Fu Chen and the Journey to Macau - Part 3

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Days turned into weeks, and time drudged on as Fu Chen made his way down the river. It had seemed like an eternity since he had last meet the old man by the river, and yet he remembered it clearly.

He grasped the leather book in his hand, wondering what its words possessed. He hunted fish, picked berries, and slept, but more than anything he stared at the strange book.

One day he happened to doze off looking at the book. When he woke up, the sun hit his face with a strong, concentrated beam of light. He shielded his eyes, and got up on the raft. There was only one thing he had noticed the most – the natural tipping and turning of the raft had ceased.

The boat was stopped. 

Sunlight still blinding his vision, he stumbled out of the boat and upon land. Too tired to open his eyes, he motioned around towards his surroundings, feeling only sand and grass. Giving up, he motioned towards the end of his boat until something intercepted his path. Reaching around, he grasped it, felt it, and recognized it almost instantly as something he had not felt for a long time – cobblestone.

His eyes shot open.

Before him stood a crowd of temples and markets. People riding carts lead by horses, and armed guards with swords letting them pass through. It was a huge city filled with life. Chen had made it to Macau.

Noticing that his raft had hit the stone pier, he brought it back up to the small beach. He grabbed his supplies – some food and the book – and headed into the city.

Though the guards did not give him trouble, he was met at every corner with strange looks and stares. He had not showered, nor change his clothing since he had got on the boat, so he looked like any other street urchin. However, he had a job to do.

The book had no address, nor did he know the man's name. He continued looking for someone who could possibly look like the man, but his quest was in vain. He searched every alley, every public forum and every shop. There was no one who looked anything like the old man.

The stars were in the sky when he finally decided to give up. There was no sign of the brother, and everyone he asked seemed to know nothing about it. In shame, he made his way down to the port, where a wooden sign saying “MORTY'S BAR” lit up in front of him. With nothing better to do, he decided to go inside.

The bar seemed to be filled to the brim with pirates and hardened sailors that did nothing short of intimidate Chen. As he looked up to the bartender from the seat he had found at the front. The bartender simply grinned and walked away.

“Um, sir?”

The bartender turned around, looking directly at Fu Chen, “Last time I check'd, me didn't serve filthy boys. At least filthy boys without an adamant amount of coin.”

“I-I have fish...”

The bartender laughed, “Aye, and I gots a boat full of'em! Big deal, boy.”

Fu Chen lowered his head, defeated. Yet he still stayed there, silently waiting for the bartender to change his mind.

As time wore on, eventually a hooded man walked into the bar and sat besides Chen. He beckoned for the waiter to come towards him, and he did.

“Whaddya have, ser?”

“Two of the tall ones, my friend.”

The bartender had a jolly laugh, seeming to be much nicer to paying customers than the likes of 'filthy boys', “That's quite a lot for a man of your stature, my friend.”

“Only one of them's for me. The other one is for this boy here,” the hooded man pointed towards Chen.

The bartenders smile faded, but it was clear he couldn't decline his request as the hooded man already left the coins on the table.

Fu Chen was grateful for the man, and expressed his thanks, though the man gave no response. He drank the tall beverage, becoming slightly dizzy. At his level of thirst however, he continued to drink until he accidentally spilled some over the counter. The bartender gave him an angry glare. “I gotta clean 'at up, ya know!”

Chen grabbed his shirt, cleaning off the book laid in front of him hoping that it stay undamaged. What he found in place, however, was a pleasant surprise.

Slowly, words began to form at the bottom of the book where the beverage had spilled. It was an address.

“Sorry, I gotta go!” Fu Chen stood up from his seat excitedly and ran out of the bar. The bartender gave a simple sigh and began to clean off the counter with his rag.

Reading the book and following signs, he eventually found himself on the hill with a single, small house. He had somehow missed it before, but he was determined it was the right place. Walking up to it, he knocked.

No answer.

He waited awhile, before knocking again. After he still had no answer, the boy got irritated. He was attempted to leave the book there, until he heard a familiar voice.

“Trying to find me, are you?”

It was the voice of the man who Chen had found at the bar, and had given him the drink. It was the hooded man!

Chen spun around, and sure enough, he stood there with a smile on his face. “Please, come in,” He beckoned to Chen, and they both entered the house on the hill.

Inside, Chen and the man sat on a soft furnishing near a fireplace. Chen handed over the book to the old man, but not before asking his question.

“So you knew, didn't you? Why didn't you just say so at the bar!”

The hooded man, now unhooded to show a face very similar to the man Chen had met at the river, shrugged. “You were disappointed in yourself,” he began, getting out the key for the lock, “I wanted you to feel a bit better.”

The man opened the book with the key and began reading it. Before Fu Chen left, he decided to ask the man one last question.

“What's in the book, anyway?”

“It's the story of a young boy on a quest to find an old hooded man.”

Fu Chen froze in place on the couch, looking at the man. He simply closed the book in his hands, and handed it to Fu Chen.

Inside of it were all the details of the boy's trip since he had started his journey. His encounter with the old man, the countless days of him staring at the stars, and even the events of the bar.

Seeing Chen's confused expression, the man decided to explain the book for himself. “I am a seer – I find the greatest tales of the greatest legends, and bind a book to their soul. The book writes itself.”

Fu Chen, still confused, flipped to the back pages. “But half of these pages are still empty.”

“Because the story isn't over yet, of course.”

Fu Chen looked back at the man, and gave him the book. “I hope it makes a good story.”

The man nodded in agreement. Fu Chen left with his supplies, and a smile on his face.

And so ends the tale of Fu Chen and the Journey to Macau.

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