Page:Frank Owen - The Wind That Tramps the World (1929).djvu/61

 Feverishly he worked. Even until late into the night he carved by the lantern-glow. And all through the night as Woo Fung worked, Lee Cheng sat beneath the willows and sang.

At the first suggestion of dawn the pendant was done. Nothing like it had ever been seen before in China, nor in all the world. Here was Jade that had light, that glistened and glowed. Here was Jade that had been carved of poetry, Jade that held song. Here was Jade that had been wrought of love.

Without pausing even for a rice-cake or a pot of tea, Woo Fung set out for the home of Mu Kao. Early as was the hour the gem-merchant was up. He sat in the Lacquer Room of his house, studying his Jades and ambers. Woo Fung said not a word. He placed the newly carved Jade on the table before Mu Kao. Mu Kao gazed at the glowing glory of it and gasped. He sprang to his feet. He crooned to it. So great was his agitation he drooled at the lips. At that moment he was a pitiful thing to gaze upon, a strong man who was subservient to a bit of stone. For the moment everything in life was forgotten, even the white Jade of old Kung Chia. Everything was shadowed by his glowing stone which he clutched to him.

"It must be mine!" he cried hoarsely. "What is your price?"

Woo Fung shrugged his shoulders. "Am I not as great as Kung Chia?" he asked. "Is not my stone even grander and rarer than his?"