Chapter 2

You think you are alive

because you breathe air?

Shame on you,

that you are alive in such a limited way.

(Jalal al-Din Rumi)

Chen Feng watched the commotion with a mocking smile on his face. The young boy had stripped off his clothes, the deafening screams of the embalmed lady, the orders thundered by the man next to her, and the guards rushed in pursuit of the young man who had just escaped.

What an exhilarating scene! Something that had shaken him, briefly, from his anxious wait for a message that was late in arriving.

He had unwillingly had to follow his father on this business trip. On his return from England, he had barely set foot on Taipa's soil when his father had put him on a plane to follow him and his sister to Istanbul.

"Now that you have finished your studies, it is well that you help your father to consolidate and strengthen his business." These were the words with which his parent had 'warmly' greeted him after four years apart.

The relationship between the two had never been the best. His mother, even if only for a short time, had been the only person who had been able to give him a minimum of human warmth. But when she was tired of her husband's constant betrayals and reproaches, she had left him, preferring to take only her younger sister with her.

It was only when she fell ill and died that Chen Xue returned. Unfortunately, this distance had irreparably damaged any chance of a relationship between them. Besides, his sister reminded him of his mother, and the fact that she received all of his father's attention made any kind of contact or communication unbearable.

Chen Feng was not interested in his father's lucrative business. He had never liked the casino environment. They were just places where a bunch of poor people, weak or hoping to make a killing, were easily fleeced by cunning croupiers, lascivious hostesses and watered-down cocktails.

He had other aspirations in life. He wanted to become a bar chef, travel the world and become an expert in the field of mixology. Although his father didn't think so.

"Why would you ever want to be a waiter?" he had asked him sarcastically one evening a few years earlier when he had told him his idea after observing the bartenders in the American Bar at the Savoy.

He had to accompany his father to a business appointment, but after only five minutes in the famous bar, the boredom and disappointment had disappeared, leaving only a young boy fascinated by the elegant and vigorous movements of those men dressed in white.

For two hours, he had sat and watched them mix, shake, taste each cocktail they made; attentive but satisfied, tense but proud, tired but happy to do what they did.

They seemed to have the whole world in their hands from behind that counter. As if the very knowledge of mankind flowed between those glasses of various sizes, those colourful bottles and those gleaming tools they kept constantly clean, above the polished counter.

That evening he had returned to the suite convinced that he had found his life's aspiration. But his father had abruptly brought him back down to earth, denigrating the noble art that had won his heart.

Over the next few evenings, he had returned to peek at those sinuous and hypnotic movements until he was discovered by a member of staff.

"Aren't you a little young to be turning to alcohol?" One of the bartenders had taken him back, fishing him out at his rather shady corner table.

The surprise of being caught had made him raise his chin, and, in his broken English, he had replied, "I can pay, so I can stay."

"Money or no money, you are clearly underage, and it being the weekend, we need all the tables, so please leave." The young man in front of him had told him casually.

"I'll spend as much as a table full of people." Chen Feng persisted, seeing that his opponent was not about to give up.

"You may spend as much as a full table, but from my colleagues and me, you won't even get a cocktail. And I don't even have juice for the kids, so please leave the place." He had asserted, making an eloquent gesture with his arm, pointing to the exit.

"I...I...My father is a guest at the hotel. You can't treat me like this." He had tried to counter, standing up.

"Ohh! I can. It's the hotel itself that has these restrictions. In fact, give me the room number. I'll see to it myself and warn your father." He replied, raising an eyebrow mockingly.

It was no use; with cold composure, the young man had shot down all his excuses without bothering him that his father was a guest at the hotel. Elegance, strength and phlegm all in one. A god in his sixteen-year-old eyes.

With his eyes downcast, he no longer dared say a word and sadly walked away from his seat, disconsolate that he would no longer be able to access it.

"Tomorrow, come at three o'clock and ask for me. My name is Nick Lloyd." Said the young man once he had his back to him. Chen Feng stood in the middle of the room for a long moment, stunned, then turned to meet Nick's amused gaze in surprise. "Tomorrow at three." He repeated.

He had spent two afternoons like that, watching the bar being prepared. Talking to Nick and his colleagues, he had learned what path he would have to take to become a good bartender. After returning home, he bought as many books as he could on spirits and mixology and studied hard on a theoretical level.

When his father sent him to the LSE in London to study, he had touched the sky with one finger. With a certain boldness, he returned to the Savoy and asked Nick to take him on as an apprentice; he would work for free if he wanted to learn as much as possible on a practical level.

He had spent four years there, working as a bar-back. Every night was a challenge; every new product selection a discovery; every taste a journey to unknown places. He had a hard time balancing the gruelling studies to avoid suspecting his parent and the long hours at the American Bar, but he had made it and, in the last year, had even managed to get a job at Singapore's renowned cocktail bar, Atlas.

He had only returned to Macau to collect a few things before heading to Singapore, but his father had unwittingly changed his plans. So there he was, anxious and impatient in the lounge of that hotel, waiting to leave.

"What's going on?" His father's stentorian voice came from the lift shaft on the other side of the lobby.

The man, who until a few moments before had been busy throwing orders left and right, turned in his direction.

"It's nothing serious, Mr Chen. My son wanted to go for a walk around the city without the help of the guards. I ordered my men to bring him back immediately." Said the man in a strange, imperturbable tone.

"These modern young men." His father commented affectedly. "They have too much on their minds and don't care in the least about the efforts and sacrifices we make for them." He concluded, giving him a disapproving look.

It was clear that his father disapproved of the look he had chosen for the day. When he had told him the night before that he would be attending a crucial business meeting, Chen Feng had decided that he would show up dressed casually to let his parent know that he didn't care about everything he did.

"''Well! It seems useless to waste precious time. Why don't we start our meeting while waiting for Yin Chu to return?" His father proposed as he approached the other man. "Chen Xue and Zhing Yi are waiting for us in the conference room." His father concluded before turning to him, "Xiao Feng, come up with us."

Chen Feng stood up from his seat, staring bored at the other two people who had turned to observe him, disgust in his gaze.

"That boy... is he with you?" the woman asked in shock, squaring him from head to toe.

"Yes. He is my eldest son, Chen Feng. Although he doesn't look like it, he will be accompanying me in running the business from now on. Xiao Feng, let me introduce you to Mr and Mrs Xin."

Chen Feng bowed his head slightly in front of the two strange specimens. All in all, they didn't look bad, their neat clothes and hairstyles accentuating the classic beauty of both of them. But the woman's unpleasant expression and the man's smug air made them disliked at first glance.

After the introductions, they all got into the lift. Chen Feng was trembling, nervously glancing at his smartphone screen, but Nick still didn't answer him. He had warned his friend about the 'setback' that had delayed his departure and hoped that his friend could intercede on his behalf, even though he knew that this would not go down well with his new bosses. He would have been content to wash glasses for a month as long as he kept that job.

That summer job was only the second step towards his goal. He intended to tour as many cocktail bars as possible and then one day finally open his own, where he would prepare the blends he had researched and invented.

Lost in his worries, he followed the group in front of him until he reached a huge room in the centre of which stood an oblong glass table surrounded by several black leather armchairs. On one of them, Chen Xue was already sitting. Her long black hair was pulled back into a high bun, and her slender physique was elegantly dressed in a French suit. She sat stiffly, her eyes downcast, and her hands resting nervously on her knees. After all, she was only seventeen years old, and she was already facing adult work.

"Chen Xue," her father's powerful voice roused the young girl from her stupor. "I want you to meet Mr and Mrs Xin, Yin Chu's parents."

Her sister nervously rose from her seat and professed a deep bow to the newcomers.

"Delicious." The woman who was at her side at that moment commented with relief.

"Yes, yes. You may go." Said the other man. "I was beginning to think the worst." He added, giving him a contemptuous look.

Chen Feng couldn't understand what was going on. Why were the two of them looking at his sister like she was a head of cattle for sale?

"''Very well. Then I will proceed with the negotiations." His father hastened to say, visibly pleased, motioning his guests to the table.

"As I have already anticipated. Yin Chu is going to study in the United States in a few weeks. Upon his return in four years, we will arrange the wedding."

Wedding? Chen Feng was stunned for a moment by this news. His father was planning Chen Xue's wedding? Then he, why was he there?

"Very well. But we will have to start the project immediately. This opportunity is too good to be delayed by so much." Explained his father, rather nervous.

"True. But I'm not used to haste. I've heard a lot of good things about your project, but as I'm not in the business, I need to do all the necessary checks and find a few more backers."

"I thought you would be the only backer, Mr Chen."

"Don't be silly. I'll need some front men so I can move with confidence. Only then can we conclude."

"But that will take a long time." His father objected angrily.

"Well, yes, but I wouldn't make a big deal out of it. After all, the revenue we'll achieve is well worth a few years of waiting."

"Perhaps we have misunderstood each other, Mr Chen. The project must absolutely start in a few weeks. Otherwise, the available land will be given to someone else."

Che Feng looked quizzically at that rather heated exchange of banter, not understanding what the topic was. Just as the tones became even more heated, his mobile phone vibrated.

[I've tried the impossible, man. But if you're not there in the morning, the position will be given to another guy they already have on probation at the moment].

With panic in his eyes, Chen Feng frantically searched for a flight that would get him to his destination on time. He looked at the time and, to his relief, saw that he had time to gather his things and rush to the airport to board the flight that would take him to Singapore the next morning.

He was about to get up from his seat when the sudden commotion in the room brought him back to reality. He saw Mr and Mrs Xin looking in terror at a spot on the floor. His sister and Zhing Yi were crouching nearby. He also looked down at the spot and, to his horror, saw his father lying on the ground with a blank expression on his face and his chest unmoving.