Lin Page 16

lanterns and candles, faces seem young, and the fruit on the carts seem as heavy as stones, as if a single peach could feed you for months. Master Lau ushers grapes into his mouth and flicks his cane as he walks, spitted seeds marking his progress, and the mud from the ground adheres to the would-be warrior's robes. Cheap material, the master laughs. If you were rich, your robes would be unblemished all day. And with that, his cane flicks mud at him, again and again, and it occurs to the would-be warrior that he is walking side-by-side with a particularly naughty child.

Watch it, move it! The carriage driver's whip knows no discrimination, and it leaps out left and right at bystanders as the carriage bangs through the crowded walkways. Within the


carriage, the local magistrate, the local wine merchant, the local pimp - he is all of these things - glares out. His wide-brimmed hat seethes with disdain. He does not even need to say a word, for his eyes look at you as if you are as incon-
sequential as the ground you walk upon, and those eyes fix on the would-be warrior, who instinctively avoids the carriage as it bounds past, but the carriage driver's whip strikes Master Lau full in the face, and he crumples to the ground. Damn you! the would-be warrior hisses, his hand already tight around his sword, but with surprising alacrity Master Lau is back on his feet, his hand locked on the young man's forearm, freezing him in place. No need, he says.

Such a lack of courtesy and decency demands -