Asian Pulp

by Asian Pulp (retail) (epub)

  “Well, well, little one,” he said in a soft tone as he bent down, “you are still here. I wonder, then, if you would like a new home?” At the sound of home, the cat’s ear twitched as the one eye face looked up at him and meowed again. Jinyo laughed, scooping up the cat and carrying it in his bosom as he made his way into the city. As soon as the cat reached the warm clothing, it instantly fell asleep.

  * * *

  Walking through the city to reach his home always proved to be difficult before, yet this time there was hardly anyone around on the streets, looking for their next fix of tea. All was quiet and while it made Jinyo calm he held his guard up, for it was always the calm that came before the storm. The streets were doused with bright lights over storefronts and homes, while various tea houses, shops, and other such places welcomed passersby with enticing smells of whatever breed inside. Jinyo took a deep sniff of the air and sampled it with his tongue. A pinch of cardamom was needed at Uncle Lu’s Tea Shop in order to make their blend of tea taste more fragrant. No more rose petals at House of Flying Crane’s Teahouse. Too much gunpowder was being brewed in the Sunlight Tea Room. Jinyo grunted as he walked along; these people had no idea how to make the perfect cup of tea. All they knew to do was just dump leaves in hot water, let them stew, and then slosh them around in a dirty bowl for some poor soul to slop up. They had no idea what tea, true tea was like to experience. And they never would, he thought, as he reached the end of the city and into the forest.

  Jinyo was not his real name; in fact, he had used that name for so long that he had forgotten his real name. He abandoned his real name once he passed his Master Tea class and could now call himself Master of Tea. It was both an honour and a right to be called such after the ten years he spent learning everything there was to know about tea: how to pick the best leaves, how to let them dry accordingly, what herbs and spices worked well with what blend, and how to tell when the temperature of the water was too cold or too hot. Then there were the classes that were mostly forbidden yet he studied them anyway—how to turn a simple cup of green tea into a poison or a drug of choice and so on. People, he thought as he walked on the worn yet trustworthy path that led to his home, were capable of wanting and doing anything. Through his dealings with Dragonfly, he learned that people wanted anything they knew they shouldn’t have. To them, the teas he found all over the world were prized highly and treated more precious than gold.

  The cat stirred in his bosom yet did not awaken, causing Jinyo to chuckle quietly as he walked along. The full moon shone through the gnarled branches of the trees that raised their arms to the skies. The forest, unlike the city, remained quiet except for the occasional animal, yet Jinyo refused to disturb them since they all lived together in peace. He lightly stepped over the small babbling brook that marked where his territory “began”, then walked up the small hill to his home, where the lights were already burning for his return. In thanks to the gods that he worshipped, they made sure that his home would be free of any prowlers and carried a sense of serenity that would be befitting any human that valued such a thing. He reached his front door and slid it open, revealing a simple house styled like a tea house only without the noise and distractions. He reached for the cat, who was fast asleep, and laid him on a small cushion that lay near the door. Once the cat felt the cushion, it opened its eyes and looked around. Then, feeling satisfied that it had chosen a good owner, nestled back into its sleep. Jinyo laughed, then made his way to his resting place that was also his place to take tea.

  Slipping off his shoes at the door, he padded across the room, then knelt in front of the table with a kettle and different small bowls filled with various teas. He sniffed one, then, deciding that it was perfect for this night, scooped a small amount into the pot. He placed his hands over the kettle, then closed his eyes and began to chant. Immediately, a small fire appeared under the kettle. Jinyo sat back and allowed the tea time to simmer properly. His eyes glanced around the room, smiling as he looked at his three shelves filled with every kind of teas he had located on his travels. Of course, when locating tea for his buyers, he always saved some for himself. Each tea offered something different to him and he was glad for the experience.

  “No one can truly sample every tea made under the sun,” said his master many years ago as they sat under the great tree at the school. They both had cups of the standard green tea mixed with lotus petals that created a calming effect on whomever sampled it. “And yet, that is the beauty of what we do, what we study. To learn of Tea in Her many forms and to create a link, a bond if you will, that will never be severed, even after Death.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Jinyo’s thoughts broke when he heard the kettle whistling. He reached for his favourite cup, a medium clay mug painted indigo with no handles and many chips. He blew out the fire with his “quick breath” learned from his master, then delicately poured the fragrant hot liquid into the cup and added one small sugar cube. He then walked over to his large cushion, also coloured indigo, and sampled his tea. Green with a hint of lemongrass, lotus, and rose, known as Dreamers Rest. He drank his tea in silence while listening to the forest sing her nightly song. Just then, he head the soft padding walk of the cat coming into his room. The cat saw Jinyo, then saw the cup. It walked over to it, sniffed, and then lapped at it, much to his surprise.

  “So, you like tea as well, little one?” The cat looked up at him and meowed, then placed itself next to the cushion and purred. “I see.” He took another sip of the tea, not caring that the cat had just sampled it, then said in a low voice, “I think I’ll call you Matcha.”

  Matcha began to purr. Jinyo took another sip of his tea, then looked down at the sleeping cat. He gently nudged the cat’s head, causing it to sleepily blink its eyes; before it could go back to sleep, Jinyo lowered the cup to the cat, who instantly began to drink again. After a few minutes, the cat finished the cup but did not go back to sleep; Jinyo watched in fascination as the cat began to emit a soft glow. The cat looked at Jinyo with a perplexed look as suddenly, its closed eye began to glow brighter as it slowly opened up, revealing a new eye that was as green as the finest tea leaves. The cat’s other eye, brown and muted, looked strange next to the glowing green eye. The cat’s matted and dirty fur glowed as it cleaned and fluffed itself. The cat began to purr loudly as its sides now began to fill out, hiding its ribs and emaciated look. The glow then died away and Matcha looked like a well-cared for and fat cat with two eyes. Jinyo scratched under Matcha’s neck and the cat purred even louder.

  “You are welcome,” said Jinyo in a solemn tone.

  * * *

  The day came with birds singing in the trees, pronouncing the day to be another grand and glorious one. Jinyo opened one eye followed by the other as he rolled over on his bed mat to face the day. It had rained late last night, giving the forest a soft sheen of green while the air smelled of clean water and mint. Jinyo blinked several times, then sat up and looked around. He stretched and yawned as he got up and made his way to prepare breakfast, but not before checking the front room.

  There was Matcha, sleeping soundly on his cushion. The fur still looked clean, the eye looked healthy and the well cared for appearance remained. Jinyo smiled, then made his way to his eating room. Twenty minutes later, he sat cross legged with a bowl of rice and ginger chicken with a cup of jasmine green tea by his side. Before he could take his first bite, he heard a meow and saw Matcha entering the room.

  “Good morning to you, Matcha,” said Jinyo as he pulled out a small bowl of rice and chicken for the cat, then began to eat. Matcha sniffed his bowl, then dug in with relish.

  After they finished their breakfast, Matcha went back to his cushion and resumed sleeping while Jinyo unloaded his bag of his latest tea acquisitions, then cleaned up the house. Once completed, he went outside to his small porch with a cup of simple green tea, then sat cross-legged and sipped in silence. It was these peaceful moments that gave him balance from all of the dealings with the city f
olk and others around the world.

  He closed his eyes and conjured up a memory of sitting with his master under the tree during one of their lessons. He remember how eager he was, how so badly he wanted to set out on his own and show the world just how much of a master of tea he had become. Yet, once he finally left the school and set out, he found out early on that the world was not what he had thought. The world and its inhabitants were cruel and couldn’t care less about where their precious tea came from. All they cared about was getting the best from the best and one-upping their competition in the tea houses and stores. He felt sickened and betrayed by the world, yet learned later to let go of such emotions and to fuel his passion of tea by traveling and meeting those who grew and cultivated the plant. Those were the people who could share his passion and for that, he was grateful. It made his life’s work that much better. He sipped his tea, then frowned; the taste changed from simple and delicate to almost tasting like dishwater. He frowned, then looked up as someone ran toward him in a blinding panic. Jinyo stood up and watched the being, a young boy, scramble up the small hill to his home. Once he reached the house, the young man looked as though he was about to pass out from exertion.

  “M… master… Jinyo,” wheezed the boy. Jinyo narrowed his eyes; something had happened. A death.

  “Boy, speak up.” The young man, dressed in fine silk clothing, looked as though he had never ran a day in his life. His skinny frame contrasted with his chubby face. He shakily stood up and tried to brush the dirt from his clothes, yet it only caused the dirt to spread. Finally, he gave up and ran a hand through his long black hair, only to stop when he noticed the steel eyes boring holes into him.

  “Master Jinyo, I come from Dragonfly. He requests your immediate presence at his home.”

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  The boy fidgeted around, not wanting to answer the question. “Please, Master Jinyo, Dragonfly needs you immediately.” Jinyo looked into the pleading eyes and cursed under his breath, then grabbed his bag and, with a small pat on the head for Matcha, raced out and left with the boy.

  As they made their way through the forest, Jinyo asked in a low voice, “How many?” The boy almost tripped over his feet, yet Jinyo grabbed his shoulder and forced him to keep moving.

  “H-how many, Master?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me! How many died?”

  The boy gulped noisily and trembled as he walked. “H-how did—”

  “Answer my question!”

  “One, Master, just ONE!” He shouted the number, causing the birds overhead to squawk and fly around, yet Jinyo ignored their commotion.

  “What happened?”

  “We don’t know. All we know is that we found Silver—” At that moment, Jinyo stopped his fast pace and slammed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, causing him to yelp.

  “What did you say?” His face was only inches away from the boy. The boy, now truly frightened, moaned low, then blushed. Jinyo looked down and saw a thin and steaming stream running down his pant leg and to the ground. “Dear gods, boy, are you truly that frightened of me? Now, speak up! What did you say?”

  “I s-s-said Silver Needle. We found him. Dead.”

  Jinyo ducked his head and ran the rest of the way, leaving the boy in the distance. Silver Needle. It couldn’t be. Maybe the boy made a mistake. Maybe. He reached the streets of the city and flew through them, not caring if he knocked over anyone. He had to get there, find out if it was true.

  “Master Jinyo! Master Jinyo!?” He heard the boy calling his name yet paid no attention; he had to get to Dragonfly. When he reached the large purple hand carved doors that signaled Dragonfly’s house in the North corner of the city, Jinyo slammed against the door and flew through the main courtyard. The guards that stood at attention barely registered that a man now ran past them until he was beyond their catch. The guards shouted and ran after him, yet Jinyo raced through the house, then stopped and sniffed the air.

  The guards stopped behind him and watched the lone figure sniff the air. He took a deep breath, then turned to the right of the main hallway and raced down it until he reached a small door. Without waiting, he flung the door open and found a body covered in a white shroud and Dragonfly, master of the house, seated next to the body. His eyes were red rimmed and his normally well-coiffed jet black hair now looked flat and dirty as it lay limply across his head. He wore simple white pajamas and next to him sat a small cup of tea. He looked up, saw Jinyo, and then looked back at the body.

  “He wanted to go out last night, after you’d left,” said Dragonfly in a low monotone. “He admired you, but you already knew that. He loved you and was hurt when you did not recognize him. I allowed him to go out and enjoy the city, since he barely leaves my home except to work. I… take good care of him. You know that. He’s… fragile.”

  “He is dead, Dragonfly.” The red rimmed eyes looked up at him again, now laced with anger.

  “I loved him! I, Dragonfly, couldn’t stop this!” He fell against the body and began to sob loudly as Jinyo walked up to the body and lifted the sheet, revealing Silver Needle’s very feminine face, eyes closed and lips… he took a closer look. The lips, still stained with purple, now had a tinge of black green. Jinyo reached for a small piece of cloth and wrapped it around his hand, then pried open Silver Needle’s mouth. The stench that came from his mouth was so foul that Jinyo quickly clamped it shut and took several steps back just as Dragonfly looked up and scooted away from the body. Jinyo pointed solemnly at his beloved friend’s body.

  “Dear gods, what was that stench?” asked Dragonfly.

  “It came from Silver Needle’s mouth. Come, look at this.”

  Dragonfly looked at where Jinyo pointed and gasped. “How could I have not seen that? What would have caused such a reaction?”

  “I don’t know.” Jinyo removed the cloth from his hand, then looked around the room. “When did he arrive home?”

  “He never did. One of the guards at Madame Chamomile’s found him in a room, dead.”

  “Was he there by himself?”

  “No, he…” Dragonfly looked away, then back into Jinyo’s blank face. “He was found with another person. Older man. Just as dead. Both were naked and locked in some… embrace.”

  “Why tell me this?”

  “Only that you need to know that my precious Silver Needle was not so precious! Damn the gods for this!” He slammed one meaty fist into his other hand and wailed. “Why?”

  Jinyo had blocked out his sobs and instead began to remove the shroud, revealing more of the body. So very pale, he thought as he looked at the body. No bruises, no marks, nothing that would suggest a brutal death. Yet, here was the body and only a black green tinge to his mouth. Jinyo rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then asked, “Why did you call me here, Dragonfly?”

  The large man lifted his head once more and seemed to have regained some of his composure. “I called you here because not only was he a friend of yours, but he was found in a well known and established teahouse. In all of my years, I have never heard of anyone dying there or any kind of foul play being committed there.” Of all of the tea houses and shops in the city, Madame Chamomile’s was the one place that anyone could visit and not worry about any kind of danger there. The Madame ran a tight ship and allowed no kind of disagreements in her establishment. She was also a mistress of tea and had the same teacher as Jinyo, only ten years before. Not only was she stunningly beautiful, but also a deadly woman who was a force to be reckoned with. Jinyo closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to the gods of Death, hoping that Silver Needle would have a safe journey to the land of the dead.

  “I need to go there.” The steel in Jinyo’s voice made Dragonfly shiver for a moment. Throughout his dealings with the master of tea, Jinyo had always been calm and blank, hard to read and straight to the point. Yet, the tone he used was beyond anything Dragonfly had ever heard from him. For the first time in his life, Dragonfly was terrified of Jinyo. Jinyo placed the shrou
d over Silver Needle’s body again and left without another word.

  * * *

  People milled around in the streets, each with their own destination or plan of action, yet they were merely in Jinyo’s way as he made his way to the teahouse. The normally warm air that circulated through the streets was now tinged with a bitter cold, yet no one seemed to notice it. Jinyo pulled his cloak tighter around him, making sure that no one tried to pickpocket him. His quiet moment with tea and breakfast with Matcha seemed so far away as he tried to figure out the cause of Silver Needle’s death. Was he poisoned and if so, who had done it? Why would someone want to poison him? True, Silver Needle had been like a little brother to Jinyo and even when he last saw him alive dressed like some geisha with Dragonfly, he still felt some sort of tenderness for him.

  At last, he reached Madame Chamomile’s and walked in. Instantly, the sour smells of the city were replaced with hints of vanilla and warm linen. He had visited the establishment every so often and found it to be quite nice and a safe haven from the rest of the city. There were several people drinking tea at several tables while a lone woman stood on stage to the right and played a sorrowful and haunting song on her violin. Jinyo stopped to listen to the woman; she wore a simple black dress that fell to the floor and covered her feet. Her black hair was pulled into a tight ponytail that wrapped around her neck and as she played, she kept her eyes closed. She feels the music, he thought. She is connected, as I am to my tea.

  “I knew you would be coming sooner or later,” said a soft voice behind him. Jinyo had known she watched him enter her establishment without a hint of doing so. He turned around to see a woman about his height dressed in a simple pale yellow silk dress that accentuated her hazel eyes, a rarity in the city. Her long black hair fell loose around her like a precious fan and her red lips smiled as she said, “Please, Master Jinyo, come with me.”