Time passed quickly. By the time he left Wells Fargo Bank with the loan secured, dusk was falling.
The day's events made Feng Mountain feel like he was in a dream.
Shooting someone, getting a bank loan.
Frank invited Feng Mountain to a club to celebrate and show him a taste of capitalist nightlife, tempting him with the fact that the theme for the evening was a bunny girl singles party.
Feng Mountain, however, expressed zero interest.
With no other choice, Frank could only drop him off at a hotel. Feng Mountain had one request: nothing too expensive, just a place to sleep.
"Dammit, you don't act like a guy who just struck it rich at all! No parties, no women... Your life is more boring than God's."
They found a motel by car and handled the check-in.
The room was clean enough. There were no strange smells, just a TV and a private bathroom. That was all one could hope for.
"You're a multi-millionaire, how can you stay in a dump like this? Dude, you gotta enjoy life! Our time is short, so live it up while you can," Frank grumbled, looking around at the shabby room.
"Your lifestyle isn't mine. This is fine," Feng Mountain said, setting down Prince and Coca-Cola. He switched on the heat and the TV.
"Fine, fine! You win!" Frank said, making a gesture of surrender. His eyes landed on a few boxes of condoms by the TV. He casually swiped them and stuffed them into his pocket, muttering, "It's going to be another bloodbath tonight. I'll have to stop by the pharmacy for some of those little pills later."
"Two rounds in a row? You think you can handle that?" Feng Mountain asked, intrigued.
"Hey, don't underestimate me, man. I've got kidneys of steel," Frank said, lifting his chin smugly.
"Heh. Relying on those little pills?" Feng Mountain scoffed. 'I don't know what those pills are,' he thought, 'but they must be for his 'battle' tonight. All medicine has side effects. Frank has been helping me out so much these past few days; as his friend, I can't just stand by and watch him go down this path.'
"I learned a type of Witchcraft back in China," he began. "It can enhance your physical body for a period of time, and it's completely harmless..."
THUD!
Frank dropped to his knees by the bed, his eyes begging Feng Mountain.
"Brother! You're my brother! In your country, you have a saying, right? 'Brothers for fighting tigers, father and son for going to war'! Father, you can't just watch me die and do nothing!"
"!!!" Feng Mountain was utterly speechless.
'Where on earth did he learn all this nonsense?'
He sighed to himself, then stood up, grabbed a water glass from the table, and handed it to Frank.
"I need some of your blood in this glass."
What?
Frank's eyes widened. He stared at the glass, then back at Feng Mountain.
"Dude, you're not about to perform some kind of evil ritual, are you? That's a crime in the United States."
"Don't be an idiot. If I had any Cinnabar, would I need your blood? Do it or don't, I don't care," Feng Mountain replied, not bothering to argue.
Frank hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth. "How do I do it? How much do you need?"
Feng Mountain produced a small knife. "Just make a small cut. A little less than half a glass will be enough."
Taking the knife, Frank made a tiny cut on his fingertip, his face immediately twisting in pain. He squeezed the wound hard, and beads of blood fell into the glass one by one, as if he were squeezing out the last bit of toothpaste.
Feng Mountain shook his head, speechless. He pulled a strip of bear hide from his pocket—a spare piece left over from when he'd made a talisman for Tom.
He hadn't brought a calligraphy brush, so he had to make do with a piece of straw.
"Sit still and shut up. I'm about to start chanting the Spell," Feng Mountain said, his eyes wide and his expression deliberately solemn. He began to chant, "O, great Huaxia, of glorious civilization! Prosperous and flourishing, your light shines in all directions!"
'Is that the Spell?'
'I'm an American, but I can still understand Chinese.'
'That's obviously from a propaganda banner you'd see on a building back home.'
Frank wasn't as easy to fool as Tom. He clutched his bleeding finger, a look of contempt on his face.
Feng Mountain paid him no mind. He took the piece of straw, dipped it in the blood, and began to draw the Spell on the hide. A wisp of Soul Power flowed from the Witchcraft Bone Ring hidden on the sixth finger of his right hand, coalescing onto the written characters.
"Take this! Now shout 'Fucking awesome!' fifty times! Quick!"
'That's it? It's done?'
Frank took the bear hide, his face a mask of disbelief. But then he immediately felt a warm current spreading through his body, seeming to originate from his kidneys.
'It's actually working???'
"Hurry and shout! Louder!" Feng Mountain urged.
Whether Frank believed it or not was irrelevant; his body's reaction was all the proof he needed. He immediately tilted his head back and began to shout, "Fucking awesome! Fucking awesome! Fucking awesome..."
The walls in the motel were paper-thin to begin with, so the slightest noise carried right next door. A moment later, the guest in the adjacent room slammed a fist against the wall and yelled.
"Fuck! Goddamn faggots, can't you motherfuckers get a hotel room?!"
"You make another sound and I'll blow both your assholes out with my shotgun!"
Fortunately, Frank shouted quickly. Once he finished his fifty repetitions, he felt his body surging with power, as if he were twenty years old again.
"Get out of here! That Spell only lasts for half a month, so make it count!" Feng Mountain, mortified by the yelling from next door, pulled the door open and shooed Frank out.
"Thanks, brother! I'll report back with good news!" Frank grinned slyly, puffed out his chest, and strode out of the room.
'He's going to die in bed one of these days,' Feng Mountain cursed inwardly.
He closed the door and got ready to call Hu Zi and the others. 'With the time difference, it must be the middle of the night back in China. I wonder if they're asleep. We agreed I'd call around this time... how could I forget about the time difference?'
Just as he picked up his phone, there was a frantic knock at the door.
'Who now?'
With a sigh, Feng Mountain got up and opened the door to find Frank standing there, looking furtive.
"Didn't you just leave?"
"Man, I was worried about you. Take this. Fairbanks isn't safe at night, so try not to go out alone if you can help it."
As he spoke, Frank pulled out a handgun. Its black frame seemed to absorb the surrounding darkness.
"Thanks."
He took the handgun, and after some brief instructions from Frank, he understood how to operate it.
He closed the door again.
Placing the gun on the nightstand, Feng Mountain picked up his phone and dialed.
After a few rings, someone picked up.
"Bro?" Xiaohua's faint voice came through the line.
Feng Mountain chuckled. "What's wrong? Did Hu Zi not feed you dinner? You sound like you have no energy."
Hu Zi's indignant voice came over the phone.
"I wouldn't dare! Xiaohua is like the Empress Dowager around here."
"Bro, we got the money," Xiaohua said. "But it's way too much. We just talked it over. After we pay off our debts, we're going to wire the rest back to you. We have everything we need here, but you're all alone in a foreign country and will have a lot more expenses."
"Don't try to save money for me. Go buy a decent house. How long would it take for Hu Zi to afford one on a security guard's salary? Xiaohua, you should open a convenience store and be your own boss. And Black Hide, you buy a taxi license."
"Oh, right. Black Hide, go to the people who manage the lighthouse. When I left, I painted the glass of the lantern pink. That wasn't the right thing to do. Pay for the damages and apologize properly."
"That's settled then. Just do as I say. I'll come back to China for a visit soon, and I'll bring back some cool stuff for you all."
"And get this—I shot a black bear with a rifle. It weighed over a thousand pounds! I made some smoked meat and bear sausage from it. It's a shame I don't know how to ship it, but once I figure it out, I'll bring some back for you guys to try."
Separated by thousands of miles, they caught up over the phone, sharing their concerns and recent stories. They only hung up, reluctantly, when Feng Mountain's phone finally ran out of battery.
As for the cost of the long-distance call...
...he could certainly afford it now.
Prince and Coca-Cola were cuddled together, curled up under the covers and fast asleep.
Feng Mountain was starting to feel tired himself. He had just crawled under the covers.
Suddenly...
A blood-curdling scream echoed from outside the room.
...