China in English: perception is an act of translation. We also use what we cannot understand.

Old Mr Guo put on his new suit and went to the market to buy an mp3 player for his daughter, who had just gone to college.  When he reached the street with the largest electronics market, he quickly found himself surrounded by hawkers offering software, games, movies, music, mobile phones, laptops and mp3 players.  "Why not take a look?" the old man thought to himself, his attention arrested by the many players dangling from one man's hand.  As he leaned in to see, the man pulled back his hand to reveal a black canvas attaché case.  "Look in my bag," said the man in a flat manner.  Startled by the odd quality of the man's voice, Mr Guo suddenly felt himself lifted up as the man's hand grabbed the back of his jacket, throwing him headlong into the briefcase.  The bottom was soft.  In the darkness, as Mr Guo pulled himself upright and adjusted his eyes, he found he could see through the sides, the zipper a heavy black band above his head.  Now he noticed the man carrying him was a huge knobby monster with bony grey limbs and shaggy black hair, wild eyes like smoldering coals under a protruding low forehead, and two great white canines curling down out of its thickly lipped mouth.  The monster had three accomplices, all with briefcases.  As Mr Guo watched, one of the others tossed a young woman in cream capris and a pale blue blouse into its bag.  He felt something tugging on his leg.  Looking down, Mr Guo noticed what looked like a child made of clay staring dumbly up at him.  "They're going to eat you, you know," it said without moving its mouth.  Siezed by a sudden anxiety, Mr Guo realized he might never see his daughter again.  "What should I do?" he asked out loud.  "Put me in your pocket," said the child, again without moving.  Mr Guo did as he was told.  Reaching down to pick up the doll, he found it fit neatly in the palm of his hand.  As he dropped it in his pocket, it seemed no larger than a cigarette lighter.  "When the monsters stop in a back alley to break for lunch, shout loudly that you have found a better player," counseled the child.  "Otherwise, they will eat you for sure."  "Then what should I do?" asked Mr Guo.  "Then you must take me out of your pocket and put me in your ear," the child continued, "and make certain you repeat every word I say."  The monster was already moving.  Its companions had each claimed one victim, and were walking off in concert toward a courtyard behind an iron gate.  "What building is this?" wondered Mr Guo to himself, unable to remember having seen it before.  Among the crowd around him, he glimpsed occasional faces of frogs, fish, rabbits, rats, cats and pigs.  "How strange I never noticed before!" he mused.  The monsters stopped between some waste containers and parked automobiles, and began to talk among themselves.  "What did you get for lunch today?" asked one.  "A nice fat businessman," replied another.  "I'll trade you a leg for part of its belly," offered a third.  "It's my favorite."  "What kind of leg is that?" retorted the former.  "It better not be an old man like Little Brother here likes to catch.  That tough stuff's fine for you northerners, but we Cantonese can't stand it."  The monster holding Mr Guo laughed like crashing metal and opened its bag.  At once, Mr Guo tumbled out, whereupon he leapt to his feet and began shouting loudly that he already had a better mp3 player.  Four sets of burning eyes fixed on him.  "Impossible," scoffed the monsters.  "Our players can download tracks from half the heavenly planes and all but one of the hells.  How could your player be better?"  "Wait a moment," countered Mr Guo, "and I'll show you."  He removed the doll from his pocket, which clipped its little arms to his jacket as its head separated.  He then pulled out its head along with its extensible slender neck, split it in two and put each half in one of his ears.  At first, all he heard was static, then what sounded like water and the wings of a million pigeons.  When he opened his mouth, it was the child's voice that spoke.  "This is Lord Jingcha," it intoned.  "You are operating in this zone without hukou.  Your players are the property of the Twenty First Heavenly Electronics Corporation, and will be seized immediately.  Your cooperation is appreciated."  Hearing this, the monsters unleashed a stream of invectives. "Fucking Little Brother forgot to make his fucking payments!" one of them roared.  "It's just our shit-ass luck!" grunted another.  "Useless police always ready to fuck things up!  What else are you ratfucks good for, anyway?" cursed a third.  Mr Guo felt himself grow cold before their fury, when he heard the child's distant voice, and spoke again.  "If you do not enter the checkpoint immediately, we will resort to force," the voice loudly pronounced out of his mouth.  "Put the contraband on the ground and come quietly."  From one of the dumpsters came a hundred little figures with the same crudely shaped faces bearing a fixed, vaguely friendly expression, all made of clay.  The monsters grudgingly set down their wares, along with their attaché cases, and accompanied the little figures back into the waste container, the metal lid of which closed with a hissing sound and muffled thud.  Mr Guo looked down.  The doll was standing next to him again.  "Many thanks for your assistance," it said amicably.  "I'd like you to have one of these."  The doll held out a player in its roughly cut hand.  The player was so beautiful Mr Guo took it at once in spite of himself.  He suddenly wondered what had happened to the others who had been snatched in the bags.  "The remaining cases have been disposed of appropriately," the child's voice continued.  "Best wishes to your daughter in her studies."  Then the doll was gone, along with everything the monsters had left.  Mr Guo returned home to learn his daughter had died that same day in a traffic accident.  It seemed impossible.  She was gone.  After the initial disbelief had passed, he sat alone in his sadness and thought of her, wishing he could have been there when she needed him most.  "I'm just a useless old man," he thought to himself, playing with the present the doll had given him.  He put one of the speakers in his ear and pressed play, wanting to dream about what his girl could have heard if everything had been different.  To his surprise, he heard her voice.  She told him she was well and had been accepted to a heavenly institution of higher learning.  Mr Guo's heart raced in his chest.  After that time, he heard from her every day.  Once, he played some of his daughter's audio files for a friend, who is the source of this story.