#PLEASE i am not good enough at canto to figure out how to sing that myself...........

[fayewonglibrary]

THE ICE QUEEN OF CANTO (2002)

Faye Wong was known for her scalding temper as much as her singing but now she’s cool, collected and very much in control. Don’t believe the hype, she tells Vivienne Chow.

“The truth doesn’t matter any more,” intones a calm and collected Faye Wong, when she is asked whether her relationship with Cantopop star Nicholas Tse Ting-fung is on the rocks. She leans purposefully back in her comfy chair, snaps a bite out of a square of French toast and summons her assistant for another packet of Mild Seven cigarettes. It isn’t so easy to rile Faye Wong any more.

Three years ago, it would scarcely have been noteworthy had the pop diva launched herself at me across the table and jammed the toast into my eye. At a press conference at Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre in 1999, Wong lost her temper when an inquisitive journalist from Singapore submitted a question about her divorce from Beijing rock star Dou Wei. She screamed at the reporter, told her it was no one’s business but her own and stormed out in the kind of dramatic huff only stars seem able to carry off.

All I get is a cheerful, perhaps defiant smile and a puff of cigarette smoke. Wong appears only too happy to consider the question, despite the over-anxious butt-in from another assistant, who says: “Would you please cancel that question!” - intent on smothering the 32-year-old singer. Quite obviously, however, she can take care of herself.

“I’ve already answered it,” Wong cuts in. Well, actually, she hasn’t. What she has said is this: “The main function of the entertainment press is to get stories that are entertaining but sometimes the truth may not be as juicy as you imagine. Even if I answer the questions honestly, they still make up stories. They have their own ideas on how my private life should be. I have no desire to change that image so I choose not to answer. In this way they can continue to write whatever they want to.”

So she’s answered by questioning the question’s validity - that old celebrity trick - but at least that toast is staying on her side of the table. “Sometimes the entertainment news about me covers details I have never heard before,” she says. “I quite enjoy reading the stories myself. I’m just so fascinated by this. But I’m not keen to tell people who I am or explain to people what I have or haven’t done. Now I don’t really mind what has been written about me.”

That’s about as close an answer as anyone’s likely to get from Wong on the state of her relationship with Tse, who is 11 years her junior. Not that you can really blame her. Since the couple walked out of a private function, hand in hand, two years ago, they have been pursued relentlessly by the paparazzi.

And that’s hardly surprising, given Wong is the undisputed queen of Cantopop and Tse, a Cantopop star himself, is also the son of 1960s heart-throb actor Patrick Tse Yin and actress Deborah Lai. That was more than enough star quality to send even the most haggard entertainment hack into a frenzy when the couple’s romance was first revealed. Now there are rumours of a parting of ways, the gossip machine is again moving into overdrive.

But Wong has learned to be philosophical following the often fanatical media interest surrounding her marriage to Dou in 1996 and divorce three years later. “I’m more open-minded now,” she says. “At the beginning, I got upset quite often by the way I was portrayed in the newspapers and how people saw me. But since I can’t ask the entire world to change for me, I now look at these matters in a positive way.”

Until, that is, her five-year-old daughter by Dou, Ching-tung, is added to the mix. Ching-tung has been the subject of cut-throat press clamour since even before she was born. The battle to publish the first photograph of Wong pregnant resulted in a court case between rival newspapers Oriental Sunday and Apple Daily. The Oriental Sunday snapped the slightly swelling singer in the baggage lounge of Beijing Airport in October 1996 - the first confirmation that the star was expecting - and took Apple to court after it printed a spoiler story on the front page, including the picture, on the same day.

Since then, even the little girl has had to run the press gauntlet. On February 1, Chinese-language entertainment magazine Sudden Weekly published photographs of Ching-tung at the Hong Kong International School and ran an interview allegedly conducted with her on her way to the school in Repulse Bay. The interview claimed the youngster said Tse hadn’t visited her mother for some time. Wong was understandably furious. And for a moment, as she recounts the episode to me, the expression that darkens her face would, I know, have been terrifyingly familiar to the unfortunate reporter at the press conference three years ago. Wong leans forward. She’s more serious now. The interview never took place, she says. “I checked with my maid and spoke to my daughter. She has never done this kind of interview before. Sure, she might have said hello to someone but there couldn’t have been enough time for her to tell a reporter so many details.

"I understand people want to read about her and she cannot escape from being harassed because she is my daughter. It is not harmful if they make up stories about me but she is only a five-year-old child. Can’t the public sacrifice a little bit of their curiosity so the child can grow up in a healthy environment? Can’t they at least just wait till she’s older?”

Up close, it’s easy to see why Wong’s face graces so many magazine covers. She has beautiful, big round eyes. She says her tall and slender figure requires little maintenance, even after she gave birth to Ching-tung. And Wong is a trend-setter. What she wears will often become the hottest fahsion items of the season - even though she seems to be the only person able to carry off what are often quirky designs.

Born in 1969, Wong moved to Hong Kong with her family from Beijing at the end of 1987 when she was 18. Her enthusiasm for singing led her to the respected voice coach Tai Sze-chung and , at just 20, she was recommended by Tai to Cinepoly, with which she secured a record deal.

In 1989, Wong released her debut album, Shirley Wong Ching-man, a stage name she then used, which won her Commercial Radio’s Ultimate Female Newcomer(Bronze) award. In 1991, she left for the United States to study music. When she returned the next year, she released the album Coming Home, which became her first platinum record. She retrieved her real name, Wong Fei - Faye Wong - in 1994 and has so far made 22 studio albums.

In 1997, Wong announced she would make no more Cantonese albums when she left Cinepoly for global giant EMI. But she does sing the occcasional Cantonese song in addition to the records in Putonghua. “It is a marketing decision,” she says. “To sing well, one has to master the language in order to deliver the best sound. Putonghua is my native tongue so naturally I’m more confident with this language. But records are considered a commodity and we must take sales into account.”

Wong’s singing and songwriting talents, if widely recognised, are often tagged under the “alternative” label, although she has been voted best female singer on numerous occasions in Hong Kong, the mainland and Southeast Asia, and took the best alternative song composition trophy last year at the CASH Golden Sail Awards in the SAR with Han Wu Jie.

This kind of success usually brings a measure of satisfaction, so how does Wong still find herself singing songs she deosn’t particularly like? “I enjoy performing my own compositions but my taste in music is too off-mainstream and only a few people appreciate that,” says Wong, who has covered songs by Tori Amos and collaborated with Cocteau Twins. “I know what the masses like and I know they skip my compositions and listen to the commercial tracks. Hong Kong is not like Japan, where it accomodates various musical styles. I have too many business partners and I must consider their interests as well. I’m more mature now and I strike a balance between my personal interests and commercial value.”

Thus, she is promoting her new film. It is the Lunar New Year crowd-drawer Chinese Odyssey 2002, her fourth film, in which she plays opposite Tony Leung Chiu-wai. It is also a testament to her new, more-mellow attitude. When she last played opposite Leung in Chungking Express in 1994, Wong barely spoke to her co-star. This time, in a hectic two-month shoot over Christmas, she says the pair got on well. Leung told the South China Morning Post she “seemed like a different person this time. She is very cheerful and friendly.”

Wong plays the role of Princess Wu Shuang, who escapes from her palace for fun, often disguising herself as a man, only for both a man and a woman to fall for her. “Filming Chungking Express was painful for me because I had no idea what I was doing at all,” she says. “But Chinese Odyssey 2002 was an enjoyable experience - though I didn’t have time to sleep. The team spirit was fantastic.”

But it’s not just her character that changed between the two movies, she insists. Wong Kar-wai, the director of Chungking Express, and Jeff Lau Chun-wai, who wrote and directed Chinese Odyssey 2002, were two extremes. “As I am not confident and experienced with acting, I need demonstrations on how to act,” she says. “Jeff gave me very clear direction: he is willing to teach, whereas Wong Kar-wai did not want me to understand what was on his mind. I just had to perform what he told me to and some of the situations were quite embarrassing. Sometimes I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. It was good for me because there was no need for me to analyse the character. But now I want to know more about acting.”

In Wong’s 1994 song Exit, she describes herself as having a lack of patience. That’s one thing that has not changed. After 30 minutes, a clutch of cigarettes and a snack attack of toast, she gets up with an “Is that OK?” and has exited left before even her hovering assistants can pretend it was their idea.

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SOURCE: THE SOUTH CHINA MORNING POST

#2002

[saltier-than-a-pbg-in-the-ocean]

Vengeance is Bittersweet

Tw for blood and everyone dying

cadditown except for no happiness

The forest was split in half.

Two gangs of thieves divided the woods in two, warriors who killed and looted every living creature that could form complex thoughts. Strangely enough, the two groups had formed a sort of truce and occasionally traded things

Or, they were supposed to.

Murder seemed like it might be against their little deal.

The leather clothing was soaked with blood, an arrow embedded in his chest. Deep gashes lined his skin, and blood bubbled from his mouth. Eyes stared unseeingly up at seven men.

“Is he dead?”

A muscular man, heavily armored, shot the first a glare. “Is he breathing?”

The first shrunk back.

“It was an accident,” A man with a ginger beard mumbled.

The two men standing closest to him shot him weird looks and the armored man basically growled. “We are on their land and we killed their man. I think they’re not going to be happy with a sorry.”

A brown-haired man standing beside the ginger shuffled awkwardly. “They don’t have to know.” He mumbled.

“If you have an idea, speak up.”

He bit his lip. “Their well is near here. We could just…” He made a dumping motion.

A bearded man gave him a horrified look. “We can't do that!”

“It’s not like we have a better idea.” The armored man grumbled.

When the seven thieves dumped the body into the well known wishing well, Luke Sizemore was significantly less dead than they expected.

As he sank deeper, his fingers released a single coin.

“Uh, you know this is owned by us, right?”

The person-an intruder-barely acknowledged him. His blue eyes, the only part of his face not obscured by his hood or the layer of fabric pulled over his nose, flicked over the bearded man’s face. “I know.” He mused. “I expected you to be more threatening towards strangers.”

The bearded man blinked. “I-uh-we try to warn you!” His voice was exaggerated and dramatic.

“And I can’t die.”

Silence. “Uh, you’re just bluffing, right?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” The hooded man shrugged. “You know, Jirard, I wish you weren’t the one to find me-”

“How do you know my name?” Jirard gripped the hatchet at his side, possibly considering testing this man’s supposed immortality.

“-I was really hoping you were the one I could keep alive.”

Jirard’s eyes went wide. “Wait. What?!”

“I said what I meant.”

The hooded man’s hand strayed to his hip, pulling out a well-made dagger before an arrow went straight through Jirard ́s eye.

“Huh.” The sky blue eyes raised upward, taking in a man in worn leather armor, bow in hand. “Rude.”

The man slid down the trunk of the tree, bow pointed at the hooded figure.. “Thank you for the free distraction, sir. I’ll let you go for that.”

“I thought all the thieves here had a truce.”

The thief’s eyes filled with fury. “Oh, we did until they killed my husband.”

“I see.” Sliding his dagger back into his sheath, the man articulated his words slowly. “You’re after vengeance too?”

The rouge seemed surprised. “You too?” He paused. “You’re only going after them, right?” He motioned to the motionless body.”

“As I understand it, my sister was targeted by a group of seven men. Not six.”

“Oh.” The bow lowered. “Uh, the rest aren’t really as invested in the ‘murder the shit out of everyone’ idea. Care to work together?”

“I could use some company.” His voice was level, despite his trembling hands.

“What’s your name?”

“You can call me Canto.”

The thief nodded. “Nice to meet you. ‘M Caddy.”

Canto’s voice refused to stray from even. “Likewise.”

Two people could commit murders at a scarily fast pace.

Two days after they teamed up, Canto sent his dagger straight through the chest of a man Caddy hadn’t even noticed. At day five, they double-teamed a man in an absurd amount of armor, who fought back through fatal wounds and a shocking amount of arrows in the gaps of his armor. Tearing off his helmet and striking head with a forceful blow ended his misery.

And it turned out archers were incredibly useful when it came to quickly and efficiently taking people out.

Two more left. Austin and Paul.

Humans did need sleep, though.

An unrealistic expectation from a thief so focused on revenge. Caddy could watch Canto cook rabbits or squirrels or whatever they found with a method so similar to Luke’s and remain composed, watch him fight in a way that was just as extra as Luke and remain composed, but the second it was dark and there was nothing but crickets and his thoughts to listen to, he fell apart, hoping the ground muffled his sobs.

“Caddy, you aren’t asleep are you?”

He groaned into the dirt before lifting his head. “Am I that loud?”

“You’re fine.” His companion paused, now sitting up. “What was he like? Luke. Your husband.”

Caddy smiled a bittersweet smile. “Me and the guys went through so much shit and he always stayed so pure and positive and optimistic. It was amazing. He was an amazing singer. He was the best and most understanding diplomat. The truce would have fallen apart if his death had nothing to do with them just because he was so good. He was amazing. He didn’t deserve to be killed. I-I really miss him.” He sniffed. “I-You kinda remind me of him sometimes.”

“Oh.” Canto didn’t say anything more, but Caddy found it a lot easier to fall asleep.

The last two were better armored and well-armed than anyone else. Maybe it would have been a good idea to take the dead one’s armor and weapons. The two moved with extreme caution, and it took several days to form a plan.

But it worked flawlessly.

Austin didn’t notice the two hiding directly above him. His analysis of the area didn’t include looking up, it seemed, and he’d already signaled to Paul when Canto swiftly and silently dropped onto him and a steel blade tore through his jugular.

“Caddy-” His bow was pulled. His hands were shaking.

“Can it wait, Canto?”

“No! Isn’t this enough?!” Paul charged into the trees and was met with an arrow to the shoulder.

“WHAT?!” He pulled another arrow from his quiver. “You have to be joking. Canto, we are so close.”

“Do we really want to be as merciless as they were?”

Caddy spun to face the hooded man. “It doesn’t matter! This isn’t what Luke would want me to do! I’m doing this for me!”

“Caddy, please”

Caddy snarled. “Shut up.” He turned, pointing the bow at Paul.

“Caddy, please. Listen to me. I knew all their names. I knew how to navigate the area-”

Tears ran down his face. How could he? How could he? When they were so close to making Luke’s death mean something?

“-I don’t have any sisters. Canto is Spanish for ‘I sing’-”

“Don’t try to distract me!” He shouted.

“I’m not! Caddy, don’t you recognize my voice?!”

The arrow shot through the air into Paul’s forehead the second Canto tore off the fabric covering the lower half of his face.

Caddy only noticed when he turned and saw Luke. His dead husband, coughing blood onto the ground, in Canto’s cloak.

Oh god.

He sprinted over and kneeled at Luke’s side, who smiled through bloody teeth, a material similar to obsidian replacing his left cheek and a spot near his forehead, his neck bearing another patch.

“Caddy... “ Luke hacked up more blood. “They threw me in-” More coughing. Oh god, what had he done? “The well before I died. I had a coin. Wished for-” He covered his mouth with one hand for several moments. “Vengeance. It brought me back to avenge myself.”

“Luke, stop talking, I-I can figure out how to help you.” He didn’t even try to wipe away his tears. He let them spill onto Luke’s chest.

“Pointless. I got my wish. I’m gonna go back to where I was supposed to go.” He smiled. “Please move on this time.”

“Luke…” He should have listened. He could have had him if he hadn’t killed Paul.

Luke’s head fell to the ground and Caddy could feel his heartbeat stop under his fingers.

He needed to try. It probably wouldn’t work, but he needed to try.

Caddy dropped a coin into the dark pit between the stones and didn’t near it hit the bottom.

Seconds passed. His shoulders slumped, despite not knowing if it had worked or not.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Came a too familiar voice. “I don’t think you understand what you just did.”

“Luke…” Even if half his face and most of his neck were now consumed by that obsidian-like substance, he was here. It had worked.

#Asagao Academy #cadditown #tw blood #tw death #asagao caddy #asagao luke