I slump back against the wall of the warehouse behind me. I’m the most senior man here now. It’s my responsibility to call it in. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I search through my contacts, which are all written in Chinese even though it’s not my first language. I wasn’t born to Chinese parents—my family was of European descent. Each symbol represents a person and the way I see them. The person I’m looking for is represented by the word ‘King’. I locate his number and make the call.
“Hello,” Gaozu, the leader of the Yi Shu mafia, answers after the third ring. His short greeting is terse, and I can tell he’s already been informed that a fight was taking place. “Jaxon, give me an update,” he orders.
“The Jīn Long started a fire in the warehouse. We managed to put it out with minimum damage to the stock. However, it wasn’t without cost. I’m sorry, sir.”
The other end of the line goes silent for a moment,
“My brother?” Gaozu finally asks, and I look down at the headless body of our leader’s sibling.
“I’m sorry, sir. He put up a brave fight, but it was a trap set for him. He didn’t stand a chance.”
“I want his body brought back here.”
“I’ll make sure it happens, and he’s treated with all the dignity he deserves.”
We never wanted this war. Our aim has always been to support those who’ve come over from China and are trying to fit into a society with a very different set of beliefs. I embraced the Chinese way of life when I joined the Yi Shu, but it’s vastly different from the American way. Respect is key within Chinese culture. Our focus should be on helping our people rather than fighting a war over land with a rival faction, whose sole aim is to make money for those higher up within their society.
“What about other casualties?” Gaozu eventually questions, his voice sounding tired.
I let out a long sigh before I answer, my body flooding with exhaustion as the adrenaline finally leaves me.
“There are a few, sir. Good, loyal men. I’ll ensure they are returned to their families with honor.”
“Thank you,” Gaozu praises me. “Jaxon, I’ll need you to take over my brother’s role. You must look after our people and keep them safe while my family mourns.”
“Of course, sir.”
Gaozu pauses on the other end of the phone.
“I need you to do something else for me. I’ve been putting this off for a while, but I think it might be our only chance to stop the Jīn Long. In order to increase our fighting force, we need to invoke the one male per family rule. Many of our men have been given their freedom, but it’s time to call them back into service. We face a threat we can’t beat without numbers, and so numbers is what we will get.”
“It’s so exciting, Lia. I can’t believe that today you could meet the man you might marry and spend the rest of your life with. I wish I were old enough. I still have to wait four more years.”
I wish I shared my sister’s enthusiasm for the day’s events. I turned twenty-one a few weeks ago, and tonight I’ll attend a debutante ball so I can meet potential suitors from our area of San Francisco. I’ve been dreading this day. I don’t have any interest in changing my way of life at the moment. I’d much rather stay at home and help my mother and father as they get older and need more help. My sister is welcome to take my place at the ball, but I know it’ll never happen. So instead, I plaster a forced smile on my face and fake happiness to placate her.
“It will be exciting. I’ll make sure I tell you all the details when I return.” I take her hand and squeeze it in reassurance.
“It’ll be late by the time we get home,” my mother interjects as she brings the brush through my waist length, black hair.
She starts to separate out some of the strands to put up into an elaborate style. I adore my hair when it’s down and refuse to have it all up, pulling on my features like a weird version of a face lift. I certainly don’t need one yet, and hopefully, I never will.
“Then I’ll tell you everything tomorrow,” I confirm to my sister who seems happy with the suggestion.
“Lán, can you fetch the decorated box off my dressing table please?” my mother asks my sister who happily skips out of the room. “It’ll be all right. You’ll have fun tonight, I promise. I did at my ball and was blessed to meet your father at the same time. There’s plenty of men out there to choose from, Lia. You’ll find yours. He’ll be getting ready at the moment and feeling just as nervous,” my mother offers her words of encouragement in my sister’s absence. She obviously wasn’t fooled by my fake smile.
“I know. I’m sorry. I understand this is a blessing, and we owe our lives to the Yi Shu, but I just don’t think I’ll make a good wife. I’m too restless.”
“It will pass.” My mother twists the separated strands of hair into a rounded knot on the top of my head. “I was just as nervous as you. My family has been in America a lot longer than your father’s, but we still owe everything to those who brought us over here. I didn’t want to be a wife, but I knew it was the right thing to do, and I’ve since been blessed with a wonderful husband and two beautiful daughters. I’ve been lucky. I don’t want for anything. We have food in our bellies and a warm house, and I don’t have to work my fingers to the bone in the rice fields for a master who cares little for our welfare. Becoming a wife is your way of showing gratitude to the Yi Shu for providing us with a life in a vibrant city where everything is plentiful. You have to look at it that way, Lia.”
“I do, Mama. I adore it here. I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.”
I don’t want to upset my mother, so I concede my point to her. She’s right—we do have all we need. Life could be a lot worse. Even here in San Francisco, there’s a problem with homelessness. I’ve seen it for myself. I’m blessed to have a home and food, and I know I’ll still have it even when I marry.
“I’ve got it,” my sister announces as she runs back into the room, carrying an ornate box.
It’s been handed down through the generations on my mother’s side of the family. It will come to me when my mother dies, but I refuse to think about that. She’ll live forever, I’m sure. My sister opens it and places it down on the dressing table where I’m sitting. Inside are jewels, some of them centuries old. My mother pulls out a clip made of jade—it’s from the city where her family originated in China. She gives it a quick wipe down and then pushes it into my hair.
“Beautiful, Lia. It matches your eyes.” My mum helps me to my feet and leads me over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.
I’ve already seen my hair and the traditional make-up I’m wearing, but not my complete attire. I have on a cheongsam, which is a formfitting, heavily embroidered dress in red and gold colors with a high collar, and frog buttons. The modern version is short, but this is traditional, so it reaches my feet. As I stand before the reflecting glass, I’m stunned. I look different, older, ready to be a woman, but deep down inside, my body is screaming at me to run in the opposite direction. This isn’t me. The person staring back at me is a stranger. She’s someone I don’t know. I shiver, knowing no good will come from this. I’ll bring shame upon my family because I can’t be the person they need me to be.