The Monkey King of the Pearl Sea

Shen sipped on the delicate jasmine tea that had been presented soundlessly to him by one of the many beautiful women who worked in the House, a rare and exquisite blend that only a refined palette could truly appreciate, it was a far cry from what these English 
people laughingly called ‘tea’, which bore the same resemblance grape juice did to a finely aged wine.
While his calm exterior hid a boiling furnace of grief-fuelled revenge, that did not mean that Shen was in any way out of control or unable to plan in methodical and excruciating detail. His agents had spread throughout the city, all looking for Madam Wei’s assailants. They had gone to ground without a trace, but they could not remain hidden for long. People vastly underestimated how many Chinese nationals were actually in London, and they largely went uncounted due to the British arrogance that meant that they all looked the same to their dull, round, nouveau-Imperial eyes. The Chinese had been building empires before the British had even thought that it would be a good idea to build with the rocks they were bashing each other over the head with!