Go Duck Yourself

Choi’s plane safely landed without incident. These days, this was a miracle. Choi Yeong was beginning to get used to the strange and unusual. Unusual was the new usual.

Without incident, except for when a young stewardess became concerned. Yeong was meditating with his eyes closed, his heart barely beating, his lungs barely breathing. The stewardess tried to touch him to make sure he wasn’t dead. Sensing a presence breaking his boundaries, Choi quickly grabbed the stewardess by the wrist. Startled, the stewardess quickly apologized. Choi Yeong released her and apologized himself.

After getting his bags, Choi arranged for an Uber ride to Chinatown. The address was 1261 Stockton Street.

The Uber pulled up in front of a restaurant. Hing Lung Company, aka Go Duck Yourself. Choi grinned, seeing the familiar sign.

Gathering his bags, Yeong entered the establishment. Mostly everyone recognized him. The owner soon appeared and motioned for Yeong to follow him.

They walked into the basement, where the owner pushed a brick, which opened a hidden door in the wall. This lead into a portion of Old San Francisco, the part buried beneath the current city by an earthquake in the past.

One of the former shops down here had been refurbished into an exquisite underground safe house. Choi Yeong nodded to the owner in thanks and appreciation.

“You have served the Dragon well,” Choi affirmed. “You shall be greatly rewarded.”

Once the owner departed, Choi unpacked, then began the motions to calm himself. Soon, he was quieted and centering himself.