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The Jade Pavilion Book II : The Rise of Li Chang

Chapter 63 Two Mysteries and an Unexpected Guest

     Chapter 63    Two Mysteries and an Unexpected Guest
    
    
     Ming-tsu shuddered in her bath at the recollection of George's brief but
portentous visit the night before.  'Think, Ming-tsu, think!' she implored
herself. 
    
     Where were the jewels?  She reviewed the events of the final minutes of the
fateful Night of the Tiger again. 
    
     When she had left the dungeon, leaving Liu in Feng's care, {Chapter 34} Liu
had still been wearing the diamond earrings and the pearl necklace.  But when
she had returned no more than ten minutes later, the dead dungeonmaster was
lying in a great pool of blood, his eyes and mouth frozen open in horrific
surprise.  A few yards away Wen-chi lay dead, still bound to his overturned
chair. Liu, who had apparently died only moments before,  was lying across Li
Chang's lap, with Feng's knife buried in her chest. Li, his legs shattered, was
still tightly bound to his chair.  It seemed inconceivable that the only
survivor of the nightmarish scene could have hidden the sparkling gems anywhere.
    
     Ming-tsu tried desperately to remember, as she had for three days,  if Liu
had still  been wearing the jewelry when she, Ming-tsu,  had returned to the
dungeon.  But in the shock of seeing the bloody carnage, she had not noticed. 
It was only after the three Scorpions had carted the bodies away that she had
remembered the jewelry, and sent the fourth Scorpion, the acne-ridden teenaged
boy, in pursuit of the others.
    
     She reviewed the possibilities again, as she had several times previously
without result.  But this time she decided, somewhat grudgingly, to try to adopt
the methods of the man she had sent to his death. It might well be that she
would, in the end, have reason to be grateful for her months with Li Chang. 
For, as befitted a young man raised by a brilliant scholar and logician like
Wen-chi, Li's thought processes were typically very methodical -- save perhaps,
she smiled naughtily to herself as her fingers strayed sensuously along the
inside of a soapy thigh, when certain matters of a non-intellectual nature took
precedence. 
    
     During their months together Li had, on several occasions, attempted to
impress upon her the importance and the benefits of rational analysis, and to
teach her the elements of applied logic, as they had been taught to him --
methods which thoughtful leaders had used, since the time of the great sages, to
analyze a problem systematically and comprehensively.   Ming-tsu remembered that
Li had told her once that a writer from the faraway New World, known for the
strange fancies of his grotesque imagination, had once written that "while the
analyst is necessarily ingenious, the ingenious man is utterly incapable of
analysis."   This, Li had said, was carrying the notion much too far.  But if
such a brilliant writer, who had been so utterly dependent on his imagination
and ingenuity, had placed such faith and such importance in analysis, surely
those without his great gifts should do so as well. 
    
     At the time she had found his musings rather tedious, but Ming-tsu wished
now that she had paid closer attention to Li's occasional discourses on
reasoning.  For the mystery of the missing jewels, certainly, was an opportunity
to test his academic theories in the demanding crucible of the real world.
    
     So, Ming-tsu thought to herself, let's begin at the beginning and see if we
can not solve the mystery of the missing jewels.
    
     Wen-chi?  The old fool could barely see and hear and he was still firmly
tied to his chair.  There didn't seem to be any possible way that he could have
hidden the jewels before his death.  Or any possible reason why he would.
    
     Could Feng have taken them from Liu and hidden them somewhere hoping to
retrieve them later?  Possibly. Perhaps Liu had grabbed his knife while he was
taking the diamonds from her.  But then, assuming Liu had cut Feng's throat --
who else could have? he surely hadn't chosen such a bizarre method of committing
suicide -- he would have had no time to hide them.  Even if he had been so
foolish as to think that he, as the only survivor of the foursome, (once Li
Chang were disposed of) would not be suspected.
    
     Could Liu have hid them? Ming-tsu wondered, as she slid the soapy loofah
across her chest, absently describing sensuous circles on each of her
ripe-nippled breasts.  She could have, of course.  But to what purpose?  Liu had
apparently cut Feng's throat and then stabbed herself only a short time later --
her body and his had been almost equally warm when the Scorpions had come to
pull them away.  But Feng's bloody throat wound had bled like a geyser,
drenching Liu's gown.  If Liu had hid the diamonds, why were there no
bloodstains marking her path to whatever hiding place she might have chosen? 
Ming-tsu had spent an hour studying every inch of the floor within a twelve-foot
radius of where Feng and Liu had fallen.  Aside from the few steps that Liu had
taken toward the chair on which Li Chang had sat, the pattern of bloodstains on
the floor around Feng appeared to be completely random -- exactly what one would
have expected from a throat wound like Feng's.
    
     What about Li Chang?  Impossible -- his legs were shattered and his arms
were still tightly bound when she had returned to the scene.  The most he could
have done was throw the missing jewels a few feet away, where they would have
been easily visible.
    
     An outsider?  She remembered that when she admitted the Scorpions to take
the bodies away, the underground entrance to the dungeon had been locked on the
inside. An outsider could not have escaped that way; and if an outsider had
tried to come up the circular staircase ...  she remembered George Chan telling
her once that only a handful of people in the house were even aware that the
secret staircase that led from the second floor of the Pagoda to the dungeon 
existed.  And an outsider would have had a difficult time explaining his
presence if he happened to be seen on the staircase during the period in
question, once the jewels turned up missing.  An outsider was not impossible,
but extremely unlikely.
    
     So, Ming-tsu proceeded logically, it seemed impossible that any of the four
persons in the room could have hidden the diamond and pearls.  Furthermore,  it
seemed exceedingly unlikely that an outsider had secretly entered the dungeon,
and seized the jewels.  That meant that the jewels had to have left the premises
with the bodies.
    
     She had sent the boy -- what was his name? Lin -- yes, Lin,  that was it --
after the other three Scorpions with the instructions to search the four bodies
carefully.  Was it possible that the boy had forgotten her mandate?  It seemed
very unlikely, since that was the only task he had been charged with.  So,
assuming that he had passed along her instruction to the others, what were the
possibilies?  If Liu had still been wearing the jewels, the four Scorpions could
not possibly have overlooked them.  They either removed them from her body, or
threw her into the bay while dripping with priceless gems, which would have made
no sense whatever.  If by some chance Feng or Wen-chi had pocketed them before
their deaths, surely the Scorpions would have found them with even the most
cursory of searches.  As for Li Chang -- she remembered clearly that he had been
wearing a simple shirt and trousers with no pockets -- he could not possibly
have hidden the pearls on his body.
    
     Ming-tsu, feeling better now that she was reasoning through the problem
rationally, slid the scented loofah leisurely along the outside of a shapely
thigh, and then languorously back along the inside of the same leg. 
    
     So, it seemed all but certain that either the gems were still somehow
lurking in some dark corner of the dungeon despite her meticulous search, in
which case they were probably still recoverable, or one or more of the Scorpions
had found them on Liu and had chosen not to cough them up when they returned to
the Pagoda.  It seemed unlikely that one of the foursome could have palmed the
jewels while in the presence of the others, especially given Lin's instructions
to the leader that he was to keep a close eye on his men while they searched the
bodies.
    
     She lay back in the tub, letting the steaming scented water sift through
her beautiful black hair.  When her tresses were suitably drenched she poured a
small amount of an aromatic oil into her hands as she proceeded to wash her long
hair while she continued her train of thought.
    
     What did she know of the four Scorpions?  The big one, the one the others
called the Ox, was surely too stupid to organize a conspiracy, and the boy, an
obvious newcomer to the Scorpion fold, almost certainly lacked the guts even to
conceive such an undertaking.  She knew little of Dao, the brute with the
missing teeth, and nothing at all of the fourth Scorpion, the young, rather
handsome man who seemed to have supplanted Feng as leader of that particular
squadron.  She hadn't even caught his name.  But there was a look of ruthless
intelligence in his dark eyes ... in fact his eyes reminded her of someone --
but who?  That fourth Scorpion might well be capable of planning a conspiracy to
take possession of the jewels and then to deny that they had found them.  Thus
leaving her in the dire predicament in which she found herself.
    
     Nodding to herself, Liu climbed to her feet in the ornate tub.  It really
was the only reasonable explanation -- surely she could convince Richard Chan of
the likelihood of her hypothesis.
    
     Feeling much better, she stepped out of the tub and wrapped her wet hair in
one small towel, while she dried her back with another.
    
      And then Ming-tsu proceeded to consider a second mystery, one which had
resulted from a strange interlude preceding George Chan's frightening visit on
the prior evening....
    
    
     				********
    
    
     An hour or so before George Chan had begun pounding on her door, Ming-tsu
had filled a pitcher with water and was watering the numerous houseplants which
brightened her living quarters.  She had almost finished the task when she heard
a single sharp rap at the door, followed by hurried footsteps. 
    
     She opened the outer door to find no one there.  She glanced up and down
the street, which was filled, as with most urban streets, with a fair number of
passersby, but nothing out of the ordinary.  She was just about to step back
inside when the noticed an envelope lying at her feet, on the little mat outside
her doorstep. 
    
     She stooped down, picked up the envelope and took it back inside and
proceeded to open it with the gold-plated letter-opener that George Chan was
later to find on the table.  She was startled to find a large stack of currency
inside the envelope, and a note indicating that the sender was interested in
buying her night club.  In recent months the club had been a bit of a sore spot
with Li Chang, who had asked her on several occasions if she were going to
dispose of it. Li  had not been entirely comfortable with the revealing garments
she wore as hostess there, nor with her provocative behavior with the male
customers.  The Night of the Forty Lashes had quenched his immediate anger, but
had not put an end to his concerns.
    
     Accordingly, a few weeks earlier Ming-tsu had let it be known to a number
of successful merchants in the commercial district of Shanghai that she was
considering the possibility of selling the thriving club.  The envelope
contained the first such offer -- an offer which stated that the enclosed funds
were a good faith deposit toward the purchase of the business. The letter went
on to ask Ming-tsu's pardon for conducting business in such an unconventional
manner, explaining that its author was about to leave for Singapore on business,
and that he wanted to make sure that Ming-tsu did not sell the property to
another before he returned. The earnest money would insure, the author hoped,
that he would be afforded the opportunity of making a counter-offer to any rival
proposal before Ming-tsu concluded the sale to another. Ming-tsu arched a pretty
eyebrow appraisingly when she read the signature on the letter; it was signed
'Sung Lo', one of the wealthy businessmen of the central district. 
    
      Ming-tsu knew Sung Lo slightly.  He was a fat, forty-ish, oleaginous
merchant who had had the good fortune of being born into a wealthy family. To
his credit, though, he had had the business acumen - or was it the rapacious
avarice? -  necessary to expand upon his inheritance.  His riches had won him a
charming young wife some years ago, and she had in good time presented him with
two precocious daughters.  The girls, now about fourteen and twelve, whom
Ming-tsu  had met at a wedding once, had both the arrogance of their wealthy
father and the lovely features of their mother.  They would be beauties in a few
years, without doubt.
    
     Ming-tsu had counted the money carefully -- it was a handsome sum indeed
for a deposit -- nearly a third of the entire asking price she had had in mind.  
She had pondered the curious nature of the proposal briefly, before secreting
the envelope containing the money in a beautiful inlaid dresser in her
bed-chamber.
    
     Half an hour later George Chan's menacing appearance on her doorstep  and
his subsequent threats had temporarily wiped the offer from her mind.
    
    
     				********
    
     Ming-tsu toweled her perfect body dry as she considered the pros and cons
of Sung Lo's curiously-broached proposal.  Despite its unorthodox nature she
could see no reason not to honor his wishes and defer the sale of the club until
his return.  Sung Lo, of all men, could well afford to pay top dollar for the
business.
    
     She spent some time drying her long black hair, and then brushing it into a
lustrous silky mane while she sat nude in front of a mirrored dressing table. 
When her coiffure was done she poured a healthy dollop of a moisturizing lotion
into one cupped palm and then rubbed her hands together and began applying the
oil to her legs, first coating her sensuous limbs with the slick, scented
compound and then massaging it deep into her flesh.
    
      When her legs were glistening in the mirror, Ming-tsu stood up and began
on her mid-section, polishing her loins, her rounded buttocks, her swelling hips
and her flat tummy with the gleaming liquid.  Then she dripped a goodly drop of
the youth-giving oil on each of her breasts, and smoothed it into her lovely
lust-mounds, wincing a bit as she did so, remarking on the fact that they were
still quite tender  from Li Chang's rough handling {Chapter 17} a few nights
earlier, and George Chan's brutality the night before. 
    
     As her hands slid gently over her chocolate-tipped nipples, she felt her
sensitive love-nuggets spring to life.  She continued to stroke her breasts with
one hand, teasing her ardent nipples with her well-manicured fingernails, while
her other lotion-slick hand slipped between her thighs, to fondle her aroused
clitoris.  Her fingers slid through her well-oiled nether-lips easily as she
pleasured herself; she had not had a man since her rendezvous with George Chan
in his den a few days ago, and in her long months with Li Chang it had been a
rare day indeed when they had not made love.
    
     As the speed of her self-stroking mounted, Ming-tsu reached for the inlaid
box on the dressing table that contained "Jumbo", her beautifully-carved ivory
phallus.  She gasped with pleasure as she steered the ivory shaft between her
well-oiled labia, and then pressed it still deeper inside her, filling herself
with its massive hardness, while she plucked her well-oiled nipples until they
leapt outward from her crinkly aureoles with a stiff, proud elan.
    
     Ming-tsu's brown eyes studied the reactions of her face and body in the
mirror as she pleasured herself, noting the flush that encrimsoned her face and
upper torso as her excitement mounted.  The whites of her eyes seemed to sparkle
with passion even as her pupils seemed to darken as if shamed by her lust.  
With each slightly deeper plunge of the smooth ivory phallus, Ming-tsu felt an
all-enveloping sexual warmth radiating outward from her seat of pleasure. 
"Mmmmm," she moaned softly as she abandoned herself to Jumbo's insistent thrusts
until she came in a shuddering convulsion of woman-pleasure.
    
     She sat there on the dressing-table chair for a long moment, her legs
widely parted, her splendid breasts heaving with passion until her breathing
returned to normal.  She removed Jumbo, slick with her female juices, from her
love-tunnel, and then, knowing that she would be seeing George Chan in a short
time, she opened the top drawer of the dressing table and removed a jewel box. 
Inside the jewel box she found two familiar pairs of gleaming balls.  After
rising to her feet,  she took the smaller, golden pair and deftly pressed the
two ben-wa balls deep into her anal cavity.
    
     When the outermost of the golden spheres had been buried metacarpal-deep in
her rectum, Ming-tsu reached into the jewel box again and  look the slightly
larger silver pair and carefully inserted the metallic orbs into her vagina one
at a time.  Once the four balls were safely ensconced in her two
pleasure-channels, she took a few steps to make sure that the ben-wa balls were
securely in place;  George Chan had peppered her tender pussy with a dozen
stinging blows with a riding crop once, when one of the balls had come loose at
an inopportune moment, and then had assaulted her inflamed love grotto with a
ferocity unusual even for him. Ming-tsu was not anxious for a re-occurrence of
that painful experience, especially when the younger Chan was so clearly already
in a foul mood.
    
     Ming-tsu had just finished these precautionary measures when she was
interrupted by a muted sound at her door.
    
     'What now?' she wondered, with some exasperation.  It was important that
she prepare herself well for her meeting with the Chans.  She sensed that it
could well be the most important hour of her life.
    
     The hand at the door tapped again.  Surely it was not George Chan again. 
His knock last night had shaken the walls of her house. 
    
     Still nude, Ming-tsu stepped softly to the window and pulled back the
drapery an inch and peeked out to see a young man, apparently in his early
twenties, on her doorstep. He stood with his back to her and the door, as if he
were trying to melt into the shadows of the doorway. He seemed to be anxiously
scrutinizing the passersby. 
    
     Suddenly the young man turned slightly and Ming-tsu recognized him -- it
was Luk Yee, the friend of Li Chang.  For whom, she had heard, the Chans had
initiated a city-wide search.
    
     Ming-tsu's native ambition quickly surged to the forefront of her
consciousness, thrusting the qualms of doubt, regret and guilt that had plagued
her of late deep into the recesses of her psyche, at least for the moment.  The
fates, it seemed, had cast Luk Yee in the role of her talisman, her emblem of
good fortune.  If she were to unmask Li Chang's most trusted associate to the
Chans ...
    
     Flushed with excitement at the prospect of arranging the downfall of Luk
Yee, and thus surely solidifying her place in the Chans' hierarchy, she stepped
hurriedly into a brief undergarment and pulled it up to her waist and then
slipped into a low-cut ebony chemise whose flimsy silkiness clung to her
gleaming well-oiled curves like a second skin.  She took a quick glance in the
mirror, brushed a few stray hairs into place and threw on her favorite emerald
green dressing gown, belting it very loosely at the waist.
    
     She had noticed the way Luk Yee had looked at her when he had come to tell
her that Li Chang had fled the city {Chapter 43}. If there was one thing in this
world that Ming-tsu knew, it was men, and there was something not quite right in
his young marriage, she felt sure. She had seen in Luk Yee's troubled eyes that
night a hunger that she had rarely seen in the eyes of a newlywed.  The hunger
of a man for a woman. 
    
Surely, she thought to herself as she started toward the door to greet her
guest, by offering to satisfy that appetite, she could wrap him around her
fingers as easily as she had Li Chang ....



Review This Story || Author: Boccaccio
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