Arimitsu Kiyoshi had made his stance clear over dinner and promised to ensure Ho Ji-Ch’ing’s safety. Ho Ji-Ch’ing didn’t put much stock in it. Indifferent, he retired to his rooms.
Arimitsu Kiyoshi came by in his car again the in the following afternoon, his mood jovial. He didn’t mention anything about bodyguards. “Mr. Ho. My brother, and me, and other people, want to take you out for dinner. You must do me a favour and come. What do you say?”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing had already gotten used to his peculiar way of speaking. Out of reflex, he wanted to refuse, but he caught himself after giving the thought a few slow turns. “My thanks.”
Arimitsu was the picture of heartless delight. “Together we go, together!”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing gave it some thought and couldn’t find anything amiss. He had nothing to say, so he stood and followed Arimitsu downstairs.
- : -
Arimitsu Kiyoshi brought Ho Ji-Ch’ing to a restaurant near Fifth Avenue. Ho Ji-Ch’ing entered a private dining room and found himself at a relatively vacant table that seated neither princes nor lamas. Only Arimitsu Tsutomu and Nikaido were present.
Ho Ji-Ch’ing’s face remained impassive even when his heart began to thump. He’d rather have a few irrelevant parties acting as comic relief, or the environment was too well-suited for intrigue.
After exchanging a round of pleasantries, they took their seats while the waiter began serving their dishes. Arimitsu Tsutomu entertained his guest with small talk and chattered away, his manners amicable. Ho Ji-Ch’ing responded cautiously, paying close attention to the other man’s every move.
Once the dishes were served, the waiter retreated and clicked the door shut. Beaming, Arimitsu Tsutomu took a sip of wine and began: “Mr. Ho, we’ve really taken to each other, which is why for us, ‘one day apart feels like years of separation’. After one day, we meet again.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing didn’t touch his wine. “Mr. Arimitsu is indeed very hospitable.”
Holding his wineglass, Arimitsu shook his head slowly. “No, Mr. Ho, you’re wrong about that. Both my brother and Mr. Nikaido here know that I’m not a sociable man.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing smiled. “So Mr. Arimitsu is giving me preferential treatment.”
“I do admire you very much, Mr. Ho,” Arimitsu said. “Or I wouldn’t be this insistent about our collaboration.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing stopped smiling.
Without the smile, he seemed to have lost every bit of his vitality. He was a porcelain statue deep within a temple, forever hidden from the light of day.
“Mr. Arimitsu—” he leaned back into his chair, “I’m very sorry, but I really have no interest in this collaboration.”
Arimitsu looked at Ho Ji-Ch’ing with a grin that deepened with every passing second.
“Will Mr. Ho tell me his reasons?”
“Mr. Arimitsu is an intelligent man. You must be able to guess.”
Arimitsu shook his head. “Mr. Ho, I think I might be rushing you too quickly into this. For this sort of matter, you’ll need some time to really think things over. In fact, Mr. Ho, why don’t you consider my offer for a few more days, take your time. It’s quite all right.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing faltered for a moment. Just when he was about to speak, Arimitsu continued: “A short stay at the hotel is fine, but it isn’t a good long term solution. I’ve found a clean and secluded residence for Mr. Ho. If you don’t mind, you’re welcome to move in and stay for as long as you like.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing declined at once: “That’s not necessary. I might not stay in Tientsin for that long.”
Arimitsu turned away and shared a look with Nikaido, then said with a smile: “don’t stand on ceremony, Mr. Ho. In fact, why don’t you move in tonight? We can send our specialists over for your protection. Doesn’t that sound perfect?”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing crossed his arms in front of him and snuck a hand towards the pistol hidden at his waist. “There’s no need to rush. I can move in once I actually decide to stay in Tientsin,” he said as he rose to his feet. “Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Arimitsu and Colonel Nikaido. I still have business to attend to so I can’t linger. Farewell.”
Smiling, Arimitsu shared another look with Nikaido, then turned to the door and yelled something in Japanese.
The door burst open before he finished speaking. Over a dozen men dressed as civilians poured into the room aggressively and filled up most of it.
Arimitsu looked equally disappointed and embarrassed by the situation. Sighing, he said kindly: “Mr. Ho, let’s be on our way. So far, I’m still very sincere. I hope you’ll make your decision with care.”
- : -
Ho Ji-Ch’ing didn’t know where the residence was, but once he stepped inside, he saw a badly frightened Feng Guo-Chung and Hsiao-Shun.
Ho Ji-Ch’ing swung around and grasped Arimitsu Tsutomu by his collar. In an instant, he felt multiple gun-barrels press against his head.
He gave them no regard and tightened his hold. “You little Jap! You’ve been planning this all along, haven’t you?”
Arimitsu’s feet were almost lifted off the ground, but his demeanor was still amicable. “Mr. Ho, calm yourself. I have no intention of harming you.”
A few civilian-clad attendants rushed forward in a flurry and extricated Arimitsu out of Ho Ji-Ch’ing grasp. He continued once he found his footing: “Mr. Ho, I won’t intrude any further. Please relax and think things over.”
- : -
Four days went by. On the fifth day, Arimitsu Tsutomu showed up.
He finally got a satisfactory answer this time.
During this meeting, Ho Ji-Ch’ing didn’t play any verbal games, nor did he rage and grapple him. He didn’t even speak—he could only lie back on the sofa and respire.
This was only natural, since his lips had touched neither food nor water in four days. It was a small miracle that he could still open his eyes.
Arimitsu took hold of his dangling hand and gave it a shake. “Mr. Ho—oh wait, I should call you Commander Ho. Ha-ha! Here’s to the start of a wonderful working relationship!”
The smell of rice gruel began to drift in the air. Its source was unclear, but the scent was strong. Ho Ji-Ch’ing eyes brightened and the hand clutched tight within Arimitsu’s grasp gave a feeble twitch.
Arimitsu seemed very pleased and couldn’t help but laugh every time he opened his mouth. “Ha-ha-ha! You know, I’m very sorry about all of this. Mr. Ho has gone through a lot of discomfort in the past few days. But I have my own reasons and pains, so I hope Commander Ho won’t hold a grudge. By the way, your uncle, Bai-san, came with me today. I think you’ll be very happy to see him. Ha-ha-ha!” He turned and said to an attendant: “bring in Bai-san,” then turned back to the barely-breathing Ho Ji-Ch’ing. “The two of you are close kin. You must have a lot to say to each other, so I won’t intrude. Good-bye, Commander Ho! Ha-ha-ha!”
Arimitsu Tsutomu ‘ha-ha-ha’ed his way out jubilantly, and Bai Su-Ch’en stalked in silently.
- : -
Ho Ji-Ch’ing lay on Bai’s thighs and drank a small cup of water out of his hand.
A bowl of warm rice gruel was served. Bai brought a small spoon to Ho Ji-Ch’ing’s lips, but he didn’t eat and murmured with half-closed eyes: “Hsiao-Shun and Feng Guo-Chung…”
Catching on, Bai said: “they’re being look after. Worry about yourself.”
- : -
Half a bowl of rice gruel later, it all began to dawn on Ho Ji-Ch’ing.
The Japanese were smart. They’d locked him up for four days to see if he would give in, and if he really fought to the end and shriveled to death, they’d only have a patch of soiled floor. Who was going to demand justice for him?
Despite his frequent complaints about not wanting to live, he valued his life above all else—it was his own life!
The Japanese had nearly starved him to death under the guise of dinner—it was practically one of the most massive failures in his life. Starvation? Never known it! All through his life, he’d never suffered for food, never endured this sort of torture! Very well then, he’d secure his own safety first. Once he reached Jehol… He’d show them what their Seventh Master of Ho was capable of!
- : -
After a long and methodical session of pondering, Ho Ji-Ch’ing finally made up his mind. He turned his eyes to Bai Su-Ch’en once the hot gruel had adequately warmed his cold insides. He was still lying in the other man’s lap, after all.
“Little Uncle, why are you here?”
Bai didn’t know how to answer that question. He couldn’t exactly tell him the truth and say something like “President Arimitsu brought me here at gunpoint.”
“I heard you were… in some trouble, so I came to check on you,” he answered.
Ho Ji-Ch’ing didn’t know how to feel about that. “Thank you for your concern.”
Bai caressed his cheek with a hand. “You’re a good boy, of course I’m concerned for you.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing shut his eyes. Bai’s hands were warm and soft. They felt inexplicably nice against his face.
“He’s working with the Japanese,” he thought to himself. “They’re conspiring against me together.”
He gave an internal sneer. “A honeypot.”
- : -
In October, Ho Ji-Ch’ing took up the post of the Jehol Garrison Army’s commander-in-chief in Chengde. All hell broke loose when the news reached out. The only son of the great hero General Ho Chih-Mei had given in to the Japanese and commanded Manchukuo troops! It was like a tiger siring a dog. He had brought shame upon his ancestors!
The Chinese were of one mind in their reproach for Commander Ho. The Japanese, however, were also very dissatisfied.
As the military advisor of the Garrison Army, Colonel Nikaido’s status was supposed to be quite distinguished, but since Commander Ho gave him little regard, the Chinese soldiers under his command followed suit. The Kwantung Army had given Ho multiple orders to move his troops out to Ji’an and aid the Japanese in their offensive, but however much he urged him, Ho merely played deaf and dallied around doing god-knows-what!
Commander Ho sat in his bright and spacious mansion. Since he had his own plans, he paid no mind to the noises outside.
Aaand the politicking continues.
Arimitsu Kiyoshi had made his stance clear over dinner and promised to ensure Ho Ji-Ch’ing’s safety. Ho Ji-Ch’ing didn’t put much stock in it. Indifferent, he retired to his rooms.
Arimitsu Kiyoshi came by in his car again the in the following afternoon, his mood jovial. He didn’t mention anything about bodyguards. “Mr. Ho. My brother, and me, and other people, want to take you out for dinner. You must do me a favour and come. What do you say?”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing had already gotten used to his peculiar way of speaking. Out of reflex, he wanted to refuse, but he caught himself after giving the thought a few slow turns. “My thanks.”
Arimitsu was the picture of heartless delight. “Together we go, together!”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing gave it some thought and couldn’t find anything amiss. He had nothing to say, so he stood and followed Arimitsu downstairs.
- : -
Arimitsu Kiyoshi brought Ho Ji-Ch’ing to a restaurant near Fifth Avenue. Ho Ji-Ch’ing entered a private dining room and found himself at a relatively vacant table that seated neither princes nor lamas. Only Arimitsu Tsutomu and Nikaido were present.
Ho Ji-Ch’ing’s face remained impassive even when his heart began to thump. He’d rather have a few irrelevant parties acting as comic relief, or the environment was too well-suited for intrigue.
After exchanging a round of pleasantries, they took their seats while the waiter began serving their dishes. Arimitsu Tsutomu entertained his guest with small talk and chattered away, his manners amicable. Ho Ji-Ch’ing responded cautiously, paying close attention to the other man’s every move.
Once the dishes were served, the waiter retreated and clicked the door shut. Beaming, Arimitsu Tsutomu took a sip of wine and began: “Mr. Ho, we’ve really taken to each other, which is why for us, ‘one day apart feels like years of separation’. After one day, we meet again.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing didn’t touch his wine. “Mr. Arimitsu is indeed very hospitable.”
Holding his wineglass, Arimitsu shook his head slowly. “No, Mr. Ho, you’re wrong about that. Both my brother and Mr. Nikaido here know that I’m not a sociable man.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing smiled. “So Mr. Arimitsu is giving me preferential treatment.”
“I do admire you very much, Mr. Ho,” Arimitsu said. “Or I wouldn’t be this insistent about our collaboration.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing stopped smiling.
Without the smile, he seemed to have lost every bit of his vitality. He was a porcelain statue deep within a temple, forever hidden from the light of day.
“Mr. Arimitsu—” he leaned back into his chair, “I’m very sorry, but I really have no interest in this collaboration.”
Arimitsu looked at Ho Ji-Ch’ing with a grin that deepened with every passing second.
“Will Mr. Ho tell me his reasons?”
“Mr. Arimitsu is an intelligent man. You must be able to guess.”
Arimitsu shook his head. “Mr. Ho, I think I might be rushing you too quickly into this. For this sort of matter, you’ll need some time to really think things over. In fact, Mr. Ho, why don’t you consider my offer for a few more days, take your time. It’s quite all right.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing faltered for a moment. Just when he was about to speak, Arimitsu continued: “A short stay at the hotel is fine, but it isn’t a good long term solution. I’ve found a clean and secluded residence for Mr. Ho. If you don’t mind, you’re welcome to move in and stay for as long as you like.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing declined at once: “That’s not necessary. I might not stay in Tientsin for that long.”
Arimitsu turned away and shared a look with Nikaido, then said with a smile: “don’t stand on ceremony, Mr. Ho. In fact, why don’t you move in tonight? We can send our specialists over for your protection. Doesn’t that sound perfect?”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing crossed his arms in front of him and snuck a hand towards the pistol hidden at his waist. “There’s no need to rush. I can move in once I actually decide to stay in Tientsin,” he said as he rose to his feet. “Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Arimitsu and Colonel Nikaido. I still have business to attend to so I can’t linger. Farewell.”
Smiling, Arimitsu shared another look with Nikaido, then turned to the door and yelled something in Japanese.
The door burst open before he finished speaking. Over a dozen men dressed as civilians poured into the room aggressively and filled up most of it.
Arimitsu looked equally disappointed and embarrassed by the situation. Sighing, he said kindly: “Mr. Ho, let’s be on our way. So far, I’m still very sincere. I hope you’ll make your decision with care.”
- : -
Ho Ji-Ch’ing didn’t know where the residence was, but once he stepped inside, he saw a badly frightened Feng Guo-Chung and Hsiao-Shun.
Ho Ji-Ch’ing swung around and grasped Arimitsu Tsutomu by his collar. In an instant, he felt multiple gun-barrels press against his head.
He gave them no regard and tightened his hold. “You little Jap! You’ve been planning this all along, haven’t you?”
Arimitsu’s feet were almost lifted off the ground, but his demeanor was still amicable. “Mr. Ho, calm yourself. I have no intention of harming you.”
A few civilian-clad attendants rushed forward in a flurry and extricated Arimitsu out of Ho Ji-Ch’ing grasp. He continued once he found his footing: “Mr. Ho, I won’t intrude any further. Please relax and think things over.”
- : -
Four days went by. On the fifth day, Arimitsu Tsutomu showed up.
He finally got a satisfactory answer this time.
During this meeting, Ho Ji-Ch’ing didn’t play any verbal games, nor did he rage and grapple him. He didn’t even speak—he could only lie back on the sofa and respire.
This was only natural, since his lips had touched neither food nor water in four days. It was a small miracle that he could still open his eyes.
Arimitsu took hold of his dangling hand and gave it a shake. “Mr. Ho—oh wait, I should call you Commander Ho. Ha-ha! Here’s to the start of a wonderful working relationship!”
The smell of rice gruel began to drift in the air. Its source was unclear, but the scent was strong. Ho Ji-Ch’ing eyes brightened and the hand clutched tight within Arimitsu’s grasp gave a feeble twitch.
Arimitsu seemed very pleased and couldn’t help but laugh every time he opened his mouth. “Ha-ha-ha! You know, I’m very sorry about all of this. Mr. Ho has gone through a lot of discomfort in the past few days. But I have my own reasons and pains, so I hope Commander Ho won’t hold a grudge. By the way, your uncle, Bai-san, came with me today. I think you’ll be very happy to see him. Ha-ha-ha!” He turned and said to an attendant: “bring in Bai-san,” then turned back to the barely-breathing Ho Ji-Ch’ing. “The two of you are close kin. You must have a lot to say to each other, so I won’t intrude. Good-bye, Commander Ho! Ha-ha-ha!”
Arimitsu Tsutomu ‘ha-ha-ha’ed his way out jubilantly, and Bai Su-Ch’en stalked in silently.
- : -
Ho Ji-Ch’ing lay on Bai’s thighs and drank a small cup of water out of his hand.
A bowl of warm rice gruel was served. Bai brought a small spoon to Ho Ji-Ch’ing’s lips, but he didn’t eat and murmured with half-closed eyes: “Hsiao-Shun and Feng Guo-Chung…”
Catching on, Bai said: “they’re being look after. Worry about yourself.”
- : -
Half a bowl of rice gruel later, it all began to dawn on Ho Ji-Ch’ing.
The Japanese were smart. They’d locked him up for four days to see if he would give in, and if he really fought to the end and shriveled to death, they’d only have a patch of soiled floor. Who was going to demand justice for him?
Despite his frequent complaints about not wanting to live, he valued his life above all else—it was his own life!
The Japanese had nearly starved him to death under the guise of dinner—it was practically one of the most massive failures in his life. Starvation? Never known it! All through his life, he’d never suffered for food, never endured this sort of torture! Very well then, he’d secure his own safety first. Once he reached Jehol… He’d show them what their Seventh Master of Ho was capable of!
- : -
After a long and methodical session of pondering, Ho Ji-Ch’ing finally made up his mind. He turned his eyes to Bai Su-Ch’en once the hot gruel had adequately warmed his cold insides. He was still lying in the other man’s lap, after all.
“Little Uncle, why are you here?”
Bai didn’t know how to answer that question. He couldn’t exactly tell him the truth and say something like “President Arimitsu brought me here at gunpoint.”
“I heard you were… in some trouble, so I came to check on you,” he answered.
Ho Ji-Ch’ing didn’t know how to feel about that. “Thank you for your concern.”
Bai caressed his cheek with a hand. “You’re a good boy, of course I’m concerned for you.”
Ho Ji-Ch’ing shut his eyes. Bai’s hands were warm and soft. They felt inexplicably nice against his face.
“He’s working with the Japanese,” he thought to himself. “They’re conspiring against me together.”
He gave an internal sneer. “A honeypot.”
- : -
In October, Ho Ji-Ch’ing took up the post of the Jehol Garrison Army’s commander-in-chief in Chengde. All hell broke loose when the news reached out. The only son of the great hero General Ho Chih-Mei had given in to the Japanese and commanded Manchukuo troops! It was like a tiger siring a dog. He had brought shame upon his ancestors!
The Chinese were of one mind in their reproach for Commander Ho. The Japanese, however, were also very dissatisfied.
As the military advisor of the Garrison Army, Colonel Nikaido’s status was supposed to be quite distinguished, but since Commander Ho gave him little regard, the Chinese soldiers under his command followed suit. The Kwantung Army had given Ho multiple orders to move his troops out to Ji’an and aid the Japanese in their offensive, but however much he urged him, Ho merely played deaf and dallied around doing god-knows-what!
Commander Ho sat in his bright and spacious mansion. Since he had his own plans, he paid no mind to the noises outside.
Aaand the politicking continues.
