Free Chinese Cinderella and the Secret Dragon Society by Adeline Yen Mah Page B

broad-brimmed hat, his face was completely blank. I wondered what he had done to arouse the policeman’s suspicion, and began to sweat fiercely despite the chilly morning air. I felt scared even though I hardlyknew what I had done wrong. Was I leading a double life?
    I was so relieved to reach the academy safely that I almost fell on Grandma Wu when she opened the door and helped me take my bag inside.
    ‘Come in quickly!’ she said. ‘I’ve been waiting for you. Did you find it?’
    ‘Yes!’
    ‘Excellent! Come with me!’
    In the security of her bedroom, I handed her the envelope from Big Aunt’s safe. She took a fresh piece of paper and copied a few numbers down.
    ‘Please ask David to come here,’ she said. ‘I need him to run an errand. I have some letters to send off by pigeon post and have no time for anything else this morning.’
    I found David alone in his room playing his flute. ‘Grandma Wu wants you,’ I said. ‘Where are the others?’
    ‘They left a few minutes ago. Grandma Wu gave us money to buy breakfast from the street vendor today. I’ve been waiting for you to come back. Let’s join them there after we see Grandma Wu.’
    Back in her bedroom, Grandma Wu handed David the paper with the code numbers she had just copied and said solemnly, ‘Please pass this to 0211 at once. Say nothing. Be careful! ’
    So just when I thought I was safe, we wereback outside among the crowds, with a cold wind whipping up leaves and rubbish. I pulled my thick cardigan more firmly about my shoulders. Marat and Sam were joking with the noodle vendor on the corner.
    ‘This guy’s always here at the crack of dawn,’ David said to me. ‘When I’m up early, I see him walking past with his portable kitchen dangling from a bamboo pole perched on his shoulder.’
    The bamboo pole was now on the ground. A stove with a boiler on top was bubbling away at one end. At the other end was a wooden cupboard with a dozen small drawers filled to the brim with noodles, rice, flour, dumpling skins, ground pork, diced shrimp, herbs, spices, chopped vegetables, bean curd, bamboo shoots and various condiments. My stomach rumbled in anticipation.
    ‘Five large flatbreads with deep-fried dough-sticks and five cups of soya milk, please,’ said Marat.
    The noodle vendor nodded quickly and placed five sticks of twisted dough into the bubbling hot oil. The delicious smell of frying dough filled the air. He ladled hot soya milk into Marat’s thermos flask, then wrapped a large flatbread around each doughstick, securing the sandwiches with toothpicks, and packing the whole lot into five large sheets of newspaper.
    ‘There you are! Nice and hot! Fifty cents! Run home and eat your breakfast!’
    ‘It’s my treat!’ David interrupted, just as Marat was about to pay. David took some money out of his pocket and gave it to the noodle vendor.
    While we walked away we heard his sing-song voice: ‘Large flatbreads! Deep-fried doughsticks! Hot soya milk!’
    We were almost inside the academy when I remembered Grandma Wu’s instructions. ‘Didn’t you forget something, David?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘That sheet of paper for Agent 0211!’
    ‘I know. It’s done!’
    ‘Done? I didn’t see you give it to anyone!’
    ‘Of course not. She said to pass the paper secretly!’
    The truth finally dawned. ‘You mean Agent 0211 is the noodle seller?’
    ‘That’s right!’
    ‘Who is he?’
    ‘I don’t know and I don’t want to know!’ David replied.
    Grandma Wu poured the steaming soya milk into bowls, and we dunked the large flatbread-and-doughstick sandwiches into the milk before devouring them in large bites.
    ‘I’ve never had food like this before,’ I said between mouthfuls, as the five of us sat around the table in the kitchen. ‘Delicious!’
    ‘It’s peasants’ food, tested and true,’ Grandma Wu answered. ‘One can eat very well in Shanghai courtesy of the street vendors. But hurry and finish now because it’s almost