"Well, then..."<br/><br/>Wu cleared his throat softly and recited.<br/><br/>"Chasing him through rain and storm,<br/>she tore her skirts the better to run,<br/>a broom handle taken as her sword!<br/>A dozen passes made she, yet none struck home.<br/>From her rage the old drunk danced away<br/>Leaping to rooftops he jeered and beckoned.<br/>She, tearing free of sleeves, scrambled after.<br/>Another dozen passes they fought,<br/>leaping from roof to roof.<br/>Through saloon and brothel they fought,<br/>fierce pole versus bare hand,<br/>filial devotion against emptiness.<br/>Yet never could she strike him!<br/>Through the night they battled until<br/>at dawn's first light they met again<br/>upon the temple roof.<br/>Her strength spent, her breath gave out,<br/>Yet so strong her spirit!<br/>She gave one last mighty blow<br/>and broke her broom across his head.<br/>A son's heart in a daughter's body.<br/>Filial devotion personified!"