My grandmother told me two stories I hadn’t heard until yesterday. I’m not sure how much truth there is in them, although it’s difficult to imagine my grandmother embellishing anything.
My father was supposed to meet my grandmother for lunch one school day when he was about 15. He never showed up, but called her instead, half an hour past the meeting time. It turns out that three guys had approached him on his way to see her, demanding that he give them his ring, his watch, and his necklace. When he refused, they dragged him to a garage to beat him. Having practiced Shaolin Kung Fu with a private master for years, he fought all three and won.
Around the age of 17, my father and his friends were out having a late night snack at a restaurant where people cook their own food on skewers. In the middle of the meal, a few triad members came to the table, and knowing that they were too young to smoke, asked for cigarettes as an excuse to cause trouble. When they couldn’t provide any, the triad members told everyone to give them their money and jewellery. Everyone complied, and put their belongings on the table. At the right opportunity, my father grabbed one of the gang members arms and held him in a prone position, with a skewer to his chest. My father told his friends to get their stuff from the table, and demanded that the gang members give his friends taxi fare home. When my grandmother found out, she sent my dad to study in Canada, worried that the gang members would take revenge.