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Rated: E · Short Story · Comedy · #1296828
Sou Yung turned to face the robed figure that was standing beside him...
         
    Sou Yung raised his aching body from the surface of the small wooden desk that he had been working at for the past hour.  Although his hand felt as though someone had stuck a thousand needles into it, he managed to wipe the few beads of sweat that trickled down his brow.  He looked down upon the piece of parchment that he had been etching upon just moments ago.  How fragile it seemed just laying there.
    “Well?” Silence had been broken.  Sou Yung turned to face the robed figure that was standing beside him.  Master Cheng had been training him for the last thirteen months; lessons on penmanship and transitions.  He knew that the moment of truth was this very moment.  Sou Yung slowly picked up the paper and held it just high enough for the Master to see.
    “What do you think, Master?”  Sou Yung read the words to himself, trying to time the effect.  He finished the last word, but could not hold in his reaction any longer.  The snicker came out ever so slightly, mainly through the nasal passages.  He turned to see a possible facial response from the one who had given him the guidance, but was puzzled to see tears forming at the edges of Master’s eyes.  “Master, what do you think?”
    Sou Yung looked back at the paper and began to question his writings.  Was there a word that was misspelled?  Was it not presented appropriately?  He looked intensely at the markings, searching for an answer that seemed not to present itself.  He moved his finger gently across the paper, going underneath each letter.  He pronounced each word silently to himself.  What was the Master seeing that he himself could not grasp?  He turned to Master, only to be taken aback.  Master Cheng was no longer standing at Sou Yung’s side; rather he was bent at the waist, holding his side.
    “Yung.” The voice came out of the elder man’s chest with a slight tremble. Now, Sou Yung really began to question his writing abilities and wondered if all the lessons that he had sat through were all in vain.
    “Yes, Master?”  He watched as Master slowly began to lift his body back up and face him once again.  However, this time, the response was very different.  There was pleasure on the face of the old man.
    “Yung, that is funniest I read ever.”
    “Then, you are pleased?” Master nodded his head, for he could not speak from the laughter that was belting from his lungs.
    “Yes!” Yung took a moment and let out joyous laughter himself.  He grabbed the hands of Master Cheng and began to jump side to side. “I knew that you would.  I worked so hard on it; pouring everything that you had taught me.  I just did not want to disappoint you.”
    “You no did.”  Master Cheng reached down to the small table and grasped the piece of parchment in his fingers.  Lifting the paper to his lips, he gave it a slight peck and began to shake his head side to side. “Try again. Eat more fortune cookie.”
    Sou Yung burst into laughter, followed once again by Master Cheng.  Yung knew that this fortune would be sent into wide distribution and placed into some lucky customer’s cookie.  He laughed even harder with the realization that the lucky someone would be rather disappointed when the fortune was not up to their specifications.
    “Oh, Yung. You just like me.  Together, we will write.”  Master Cheng placed his arm around the shoulders of Sou Yung and pulled him along side. “You,” he paused as he let out a slight chuckle of air. “You read one mine?”
Sou Yung was surprised that Master had asked such of thing of him.  Master had never shown him any of his own works that had been lucky enough to be chosen for publication.  Now, he was chosen.  He placed his hand upon his chest and took a deep breath.
    “Master, it would be an honor to read your writings.”  He walked behind Master, watching as he opened a small wooden box.  From its depths, Master pulled a small manuscript and with outstretched arm, placed it into Sou Yung’s hands.
First, Sou Yung looked at the yellow piece of paper, trying to determine just how long ago that the writings were made.  Then, the ink drew his eyes into focus.  The markings were exquisite, made with patience and grace.  However, the words that were written stated a much different conclusion.  Yung could barely hold his composure while he opened his mouth to speak the words.
    “You’re days are numbered.”  Sou Yung watched Master fold over again in laugher.  He found that he had to grab his side this time; the pain of the stomach muscles expanding and contracting from all the laughter was almost too much to bear.  How simplistic the fortune was, but also how effective.  What would the reader think when the paper was pulled from the cookie?  Would the cookie have been eaten after the reading?  Sou Yung stopped just long enough to wipe the tears from his eyes.
    “Funniest part on back.”  Master pointed to the opposite side of the paper.  Sou Yung flipped the paper over.  How genius!  Master Cheng had provided the reader with numbers on the back of the reading.  He had never thought of something like this before.  Sou Yung was very pleased at this moment to know that Master Cheng was his teacher, for he had so much more to learn. 
    “Days are numbered.  Here’s lucky numbers.”  Master Cheng pointed proudly at the paper. 
    “One day,” Sou Yung reached out for the old man’s hand. “I hope to be half as good as you are.” Master Cheng slowly shook his head and looked into Sou Yung’s eyes.
    “You already are.”
© Copyright 2007 B. Olson (sweetp7680 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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