Fiction: Group 3

Fiction: Group 3

Fiction: Group 3

Fiction: Group 3

Hope and Betrayal Canadian International School of Hong Kong, Li, Kelly - 12, Fiction: Group 3

runch, crunch. The sound of the girl running barefoot on the frozen grass, staying strong in the icy wind. She, Lira, short for Lillian Langley, wasn’t scared of a thing. With her senses alert, she leaped over the frozen rivers and dodged the dead trees, running on and on. Her heart beat to the

words she thought in her mind, “Year 3000, the year where a new government system took over the remaining people”. When she got to her hideout, she lit the matches and turned on the radio, while deep in thought, she remembered how everything had started......

Years of war had torn the world apart; only the continents called Asia, Europe and Oceania had survived. The continents known as North, Central and South America as well as Africa had been blown to pieces by extreme nuclear bombs. A single new corrupt government had been established, but the world hadn’t changed for the better; it was worse than before.

The new governing system, one which she was quite familiar with, had destroyed her dreams, brought the world down into darkness, killed all her family but one, blamed her and many others of countless terrible things the governing system had done wrong, leading her to have to escape from being imprisoned. She escaped becoming a fugitive and started a rebellion against the new system. Since she was one of the leaders of the rebels, or as she liked to call them the freedom-fighters, she had made sure there were enough basic hideouts around the new nation just in case any of the freedom-fighters needed it.

Over the course of 5 years, she had become stronger than when she had become a fugitive. She had been 15 years old, while the others, her brother, Lucas Langley, the only other one in her family who had escaped the new government, and her friend, Tracy Heather, had been 16. They had started the freedom fighting group against the government, the Liberacy. In the first 6 months of being a fugitive, the three had been gathering recruits from around the six-month-old government system. Then, the following year-and-a-half, they separately trained their own group of 149,998 with help from the recruits with more combat experience, as well as training themselves hard. While, in that two-year-period, they had ruthlessly interrogated each and every one of the recruits, killing whoever held falseness in their tones. Then, after the training, they spread the Liberacies evenly throughout the nation of the new and corrupt government.

Their goals had been simple: disrupt the economy system of the new government and cause chaos all over the nation. Their final goal was to take out every single one of the leaders and figures that were corrupt of Potent Naci, the new nation. To do that, they had placed rebels within the midst of the system.

They had encountered problem after problem along the 5 year period. Strategic, resource, and trust problems had come up. Resource deficiency, how to infiltrate the government system of Potent Naci, who to trust in the government, where the increasing numbers of the hideouts should be placed for the surge of people wishing to join Liberacy, how to spread the message that Liberacy had started without alerting the new government system, and where to attack first were only a few. Weaponry was limited, Liberacy had to continuously ambush multiple weapon storages all over the nation. However, they had managed to overcome each and every one of these smaller problems.

The biggest issue was, who is the mysterious mastermind, code name Takoril, behind all of this, he or she had managed to bend everyone to their will. Takoril may not have been mentioned in the propaganda throughout Potent Naci, the nation. Nonetheless, Liberacy had believed that there had to be a mastermind behind this as all the names listed as leaders in the governing system of Potent Naci definitely did not have the cunningness and cleverness to make such vast amount of people to rule under them.

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After that, Liberacy had progressively freed parts of Potent Naci, the nation. But then, things took a turn for the worse. Disease had started spreading amongst the recruits of Liberacy. The scientists of Liberacy were working frantically, trying to find some sort of medicine to stop it.

Moreover, Liberacy had been discovered by the unjust leaders of Potent Naci. How? Lira believed that there was a mole from within the freedom fighting group. Lira was also convinced that the mole was quite high- ranking in Liberacy as they knew all about the most important, top secrets. She had independently traced down Takoril to the south-west corner of sector 20, once known as the Pearl River Delta, of the nation. The exact reason why she was here in her hideout right now. The problem was, she had surveyed the area for days and still had not found a thing, while Lucas and Tracy had been taking charge of everything.

“Someone high-ranking, hmm......” Lira thought, “Not many Liberacies are as high-ranking as the mole is......”

“Only six people are high-ranking enough. Lucas, Tracy, myself and our second-in-commands. My second-in-command was always with me when operations took place; she barely left my side, so it couldn’t have been her.” Lira continued talking to herself, “The only ones left are Tracy, Lucas and their second-in- commands.”

“Almost there Lira, but not quite.” Lira thought she heard someone say behind her before someone hit her head with something hard and she fell to the floor unconscious.

When Lira finally came to, she saw she was tied up with her arms behind a chair the old-fashioned way. She looked up and saw two figures standing in front of her. In the dark, she could make out that one looked to be male, the other female.

“Who are you?” Lira croaked out.

“Who are we? I am totally offended, can’t you recognise me?” the male taunted Lira. While reaching for the mask covering the other female’s face, along with the other female reaching for the mask covering the male’s face. They took the masks off each others faces and revealed the faces of two people she knew quite well underneath. They were......

“Lucas and Tracy! You two are both Takoril? So Takoril is not a single person? How could you do this Lucas? The new governing system killed our entire family?! Tracy, I thought you were my friend!” Lira shouted at the two in disgust.

“Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner! Lucas never cared for the Langleys, nor you. All we cared about was the power behind ruling a nation. Adding to that, I only pretended to be your friend. I mean, duh!” Tracy answered with glee.

“You know, we didn’t want to kill you at first, but you proved too smart for your own good. I can’t believe you couldn’t even figure out that Liberacy had been infiltrated long ago. Could you not even think that we did not actually interrogate ourselves? Soon, it will be time for you to die. But first, let us enlighten you on some history.” Lucas continued, while sharpening his knife.

“We chose this area, the Pearl River Delta, to direct Potent Naci because of its historical background and geographical advantage. The Pearl River Delta had once been a free place, a place of paradise to most. Some main cities of the Pearl River Delta were Hong Kong, Macau, and Shenzhen. Hong Kong was a shopping paradise along with its just and stable law. There were less fakes of products sold in Hong Kong than in China as well as the fact that Macau was quite a place to gamble.” Tracy said in disgust.

“Continuing on, there was less tax as well in Hong Kong and Macau. Shenzhen was unique from other cities within China. Hong Kong and Macau were special administrative regions so they were different. The economies of these cities were brilliant. Then, of course, you know the rest of how climate change

Fiction: Group 3

destroyed and somehow caused World War 3. It also changed the climate of the Pearl River Delta to being very cold all year round.” Lucas drawled on, “As you can see, a perfect place to put an end to your life the old-fashioned way. Any last words?”

“Yes, I never believed you would betray me!” Lira said with the pang of betrayal in her heart as she held up the mini pistol she always kept in her sleeve. The rope, broken to pieces by her pocket knife that once held her fell to the floor. She shot Lucas in the head and dodged the knife thrown at her by Tracy and shot Tracy as well. Then, she ran out of the place she was kept in.

She found herself out in the clearing and wondering what to do. I shall now go and end this. Giving my last orders as well, she thought before disappearing into the collecting storm of snow.

Fiction: Group 3

Secret! Keep Out! Do Not Enter! Canadian International School of Hong Kong, Parker, Carolyn - 13, Fiction: Group 3

ear Diary, Today I’m going on an airplane to China! I’m really excited. Mum and Dad helped me pack. My nanny Charlotte isn’t coming with us though, so I’ll miss her. She says that Hong Kong and

Guangdong are both very exciting places but she has to stay and look after the house. I’m a little scared about what will happen. I haven’t been alone with Mum and Dad without Charlotte since forever! What if they forget that I am with them? xoxo Lucy Dear Diary, Today Mum and I went to a Chinese temple. It was in Hong Kong, and a lot of people were kneeling. Mum said they were praying to their ancestors. There was a lot of incense in a box of sand. Mum said it was an offering, so I bought some and lit it on fire. The incense smell gave Mum a headache, so we didn’t go to another temple and instead went to an Italian restaurant for lunch. I had spaghetti bolognese and Mum had a fancy fish dish with white wine. After lunch, we went back to Guangdong. Yours Truly, Lucy Dear Diary, Wow! Guangdong is really busy! I wanted to go shopping with Mum but she said that I should stay with Dad, so we both stayed in the hotel room and watched Chinese cartoons and ordered room service. I liked the one with the pigs. They all seemed so happy to go on adventures with each other, and even when Baby Pig did something wrong, Mama and Papa Pig loved them. Baby Pig seemed so used to his parents being with him. He didn’t even have a nanny like Charlotte! I wish my family could be like them. Mum came home in a really bad mood because somebody stole her wallet. Dad got really mad, but then she said that she still had her passport so he calmed down a bit. They both are making loads of phone calls to cancel all of her cards. Mum is crying and hiccupping at the same time and Dad looks all pasty and white, like a fish. I think have they forgotten about me, but we are in the hotel room so it isn’t so bad. Love, Lucy Dear Diary, Today I went on a little boat around Hong Kong harbor. Dad says that the boat was called a sampan. It was really fun but it was really cold and my hat blew of when we were going fast. It was my favorite hat, so I wish we could have saved it, but it sank and none of us had our bathing suits on. To cheer me up, I got to sit next to the driver. He showed me how to drive the boat and even let me drive it for a minute. Once I almost fell in, but Mum pulled me back up. After that I had to sit in between Mum and Dad, which wasn’t as much fun. Afterwards I was really tired! I got sent to bed early, but was allowed to watch more of the pig family cartoon before I went to sleep because I had behaved so well. I turned the pig cartoon up extra loud so I couldn’t hear Mum and Dad arguing next door. Kisses, Lucy Dear Diary, Today Mum and I went to a famous Chinese restaurant. We ordered lots of little dishes that had different things in them. My favourite were the pork dumplings! Mum was so happy. I tried this white stuff that she said was called tofu, but I didn’t really like it. It would have taken too long to go back to Guangdong, so we stayed near the restaurant. Dad wasn’t pleased when we got back, because we hadn’t brought any back for him, but he seemed happier than he had been since we came here. Dad said his jet lag was all gone, and he spent the day in bed. Which is weird, because he has a half-eaten box of chocolates on the bedside table and Dad hates chocolate. Lots of love, Lucy

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Dear Diary Today we went shopping. I got a shirt with a panda on it. My Dad spent forever arguing with a vendor but he finally decided to get a teapot and cups. They didn’t have any paint on them and looked really rough, so I don’t get why they cost so much. Mum wanted to buy herself a Chinese dress but Dad said that it would cost too much. Mum sulked a bit but bought herself a scarf instead. I really liked today! Nobody argued too much, it isn’t too hot and nobody got pickpocketed. Hugs, Lucy Dear Diary, Today I was sick so I stayed in all day. Mum and Dad were really quiet but neither of them stayed in the same room. I think that they blame each other for me being sick. Tomorrow we are going to go shopping in a place called Mongkok! I’m bringing my diary with me so I can record everything! Yours gratefully, Lucy Dear Diary, Mum and Dad are fighting again. They’re being really loud and it’s really scary. Lots of the people on the street are staring at them. I want to go back to the hotel, but Mum and Dad are being really scary right now so I don’t want to ask them. Maybe I’ll find my own way to the hotel? Yeah! I’ll go back and when they come back they’ll be happy again and we can have dinner like the pig family in the cartoon! Goodbye for the Present, Lucy Dear Diary, I’m scared. I can’t see Mum, Dad or the hotel. It’s been hours since I saw either. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I’m really hungry and thirsty but I can’t find any vendors anywhere. I think that I’ll wait here. I miss Charlotte and my house. They were always so easy to find. I wish Charlotte were here! She could have stopped Mum and Dad from fighting! Sadly, Lucy Dear Diary, I’m so happy! I found a teashop and the owner let me have hot water for free! She said that her name was Popo. She doesn’t speak much English, but she smiles a lot so I like her! Her shop is small but cozy, and no one is currently in it. It has a lot of old posters with Chinese characters on them. Yours, Lucy Dear Diary, Popo is really nice. I told her about Mum and Dad arguing and she said that it would blow over and that I shouldn’t worry. Popo also gave me jasmine tea. It tasted kind of bitter, but it was cool and made me feel better. I think I want to live with Popo! She’s really nice. Maybe she could be my Grandma! Mine have all died before I was born, so she could be my new one! Happily, Lucy Dear Diary, I have so much to tell you! So much has happened that I didn’t have time to write in you! Even though it’s only been two days, it feels like it’s been years! So anyways, after I had my jasmine tea Popo asked my name and where I was staying, so she called up a taxi! I never got to go in one yet, Mum hates taxis and Dad loves fancy cars, so we’ve been going around in a chauffeured car, which is kind of like a limousine, but it’s just a normal car. The taxi smelt like the incense when we went to that temple a week ago, but milder. Pop and I arrived at the hotel in no time! I had enough pocket money, so Popo and I both had scones as we waited. After a while Mum and Dad came back. Both of them said that they were really worried. Dad rented an adjoining room and they both seem loads happier now. Yours Hopefully, Lucy

Fiction: Group 3

Dear Diary, Mum says they need to spend some time apart and Dad says they need to reassess their options, but I know that they’ll be friends again soon. Mum is staying in Hong Kong and Dad is flying back with me. I’ll get to visit Mum soon, she just wants to stay in Hong Kong a little longer and get in touch of her roots. I won’t really miss either of them, because I’ll see as much of Dad as I will of Mum. I’ve really missed Charlotte. I can’t wait to see her again! I think that Mum and Dad will be much happier now. Goodbye for now, Lucy

Fiction: Group 3

Priceless Canadian International School of Hong Kong, Tang, Tungsten - 12, Fiction: Group 3

, as a rich yet unsuccessful factory owner, am telling you the story of myself. Tuen Mun Hospital, Hong Kong

Under the white blanket was a pale face. The frown had dug deep into the skin that the dark shadow created an immense sense of sorrow. In the fading glimmer, the eyes were telling the history—a tragedy. Puffing weakly, the nose was broadcasting the end of the story. A pastor was smiling bitterly, reading from the Holy Bible. “…I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand…” His bold, but smooth voice echoed around the room.

On the pale face, a pleasant smile turned up in response. A familiar voice drifted into my ears like a thin layer of mist. “Son, “You know, I am going to die soon. Death is not dreadful itself, it is just painful if you die with

guilt and regret. Now I hand you this photo, find where it is, and there you’ll retrieve what I lost—” then he took a big breath, “—Please, pl...l...ease do what s...s...aid, r...r...emember, p...p...l...l...ease, p...p...l...l...ease, p...p...l...l...eas...s...e.

A photo slipped out of the blanket. It was very simple: A family of fisherman working on a small wooden boat, smiling.

The doctor stepped steadily in front of everybody. “Now, I announce heart-breaking news. Regrettably,” said him solemnly, “Maurice Tsoi had passed away due to lung cancer. May the pastor give a few final words to the family.”

I glanced at my watch. 12:30 Fifteen minutes until the lunch meeting. If I miss it, my company will miss the whole America’s

investment, and I will be a loser, forever. “…a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot…” My heart was beating like drumroll. Without another thought, I sprinted out of the ward—

everyone stared at me, including the person on the bed, my father. Yes indeed, my father was. In the deepest in his eyes, an indescribable queerness emerged. It was half of rage and half of remorse. A lightning struck my mind—I tried to close my eyes, smack my head against the wall, slap my hand harshly onto my face—the eyes are still zooming inside my mind. I busted into a long wail, and dashed out of the room. I reached my car, turned the key and stepped onto the left pedal as if crushing an Aluminium can.

12:35 The engine roars and—nothing else, I just didn’t even manage to stop in front of the lights, what I

was thinking was ‘one direction’, the front. Now, I was halfway through. 12:40 “Hey, dude, why the heck are you here? I thought you should be holding the meeting!” said a

rather jokey voice in a bold New York accent. The meeting. The meeting? The meeting! In no time, I checked my watch. 12:55 Hold on, I told myself, who would he be if he knows I am holding the meeting? Then I listened to

his accent. American. Oh, my word, he was our investor, from the US! I’ve entirely lost control of myself. “Crap! What a loser I am, I’d rather die than making such a

rubbish mistake, kill me, kill me…” “Mr. Erik Tsoi? Do calm down, I know you don’t want to miss our meeting and our investment,

but there are something more important than that, like, your family.” All of a sudden, my father’s eyes were buzzing in my brain. The fire in his eyes, the anger, the

regret… I started to tremble and scream. I raised my head and knew where I was, the meeting hall, in front of me were a row of my

company’s employees, and another row of American investors. Oops, I said to myself. That was embarrassing.

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Fiction: Group 3

New year day, the next year I’ve sworn to myself last night, I would not go back home, until I find the place in the photo my

father gave me. My father must have hidden some sort of treasure in there. Searching village by village, towns by towns, countries by countries, I tried to match the reality

with the photo. The scenery was same everywhere, there were the flat seas, a small hill behind it. But there is something that never ever matched—the eyes. They were unique, not anybody else’s, and familiar.

I couldn’t stop myself from thinking of this: Due to the hugeness of the world, I felt nothing but hopeless to find a little bay in the world according to the photo. Yet, I persuaded myself not to give up, for my father must have left the greatest present to me.

Surrounded by the dense mist, I walked forward. It was a cellar. A genie appeared in front of me, gently said, “What would you want, dearest, you can think of what ever you want. Just tell me, we have whatever Earth has stored in the basement, but it may take time to fetch them, it is far too big here.”

“I want,” I said pleasantly, “a few kilos of gold, a few massive computers to manage my factory, I want more time so I can work longer and earn more money, and I’d never have to rest so I can work nonstop, and … Hold on, so who are you?”

“I am a slaved genie, my master is Maurice Tsoi, your father.” “What?” I felt my blood freezing. Two eyes appeared in front of me, the blaze inside is burning as

if it’s going to explode, there was as if a sword poking out of his eyes, attempting to kill me … Then I fainted in fear. The eyes. They were the ones in the photo. Now they were fierce, but somehow, they were still

the same. I howled and sobbed on the bed, I thought of the past, when he…when he… Lau Fau Shan, Hong Kong “That’s it!” I couldn’t forbid myself from screaming. “But is it?” I asked myself in reverse. The landscape, nothing other than that. Everything changed. Actually it was changed. Things don’t change themselves, there’ve got to be a

reason. Big ships were going back and forth, to Macau, or up the Pearl River. A long white line was

following it, trying to brag about their speed. The oyster farmers vanished leaving the wooden sticks saluting in the middle of the sea. I

wondered, will they collapsed one day, or standing there upright till the end of the world. Where had the farmers been? They became waiters in restaurants and souvenir shopkeepers.

Behind my ears, was no longer just villagers speaking into Cantonese, but also French, Spanish, Japanese, Korean, Mandarin and more.

Looking at the water, I saw something. Something you’d thought beautiful if you hadn’t seen it. A rainbow. Yet, of grease and heavy metals.

A sense of pity floated out from the deepest of my heart. Why would the world dare to make such a sacrifice? We’ve forgotten something, indeed. We thought oyster farming doesn’t earn us enough, we left for other occupations; Seems like tourism is a better business than all others; We reckon small wooden boats were too slow, we used bigger and bigger fishes; Farming and living in small villages was thought to be unable to produce much, so we started to build factories and polluted the environment. What was polluted wasn’t just the water, yet also our hearts. Now, the world is different. Working and money were valued more than anything else. Everything else.

A teardrop landed, a ripple spread all over the water. Drop by drop, sunset came, and it was time to leave. I glanced at the sea one last time, perhaps it would not look like a sea a few years later. But I froze. There was a wooden boat. A family was sitting on it, watching the sunset, laughing loudly. The flame in my heart started to burn. I felt the blood throughtout my body heating up. Since I was born, I haven’t seen a single scene like that. I had rarely seen any smile like that. Not, especially, in my family. My father had always been a very solemn person. “Son, that was serious business,” He always said. “My company will lose the whole game if I don’t finish it now.” Moreover, we seldom talk during dinner. He must had been reading proposals, or clicking on his calculator.

That was what he lost. And I retrieved it.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Canadian International School of Hong Kong, Tse, Timothy - 12, Fiction: Group 3

was swimming around in the murky waters of Hong Kong. Noises of construction bombarded me. The constant thud-thud sound made my stomach churn. I saw thin checkers swaying above me. Uncertain, I slowed down to see what it was. I felt a sharp pain in my fins. I looked up. To my horror,

blood drifted from me into the water. I saw the blur of fishes swimming next to me frantically trying to push out of the net, but failing as the nets slashed their scales and skin, just like it had done to my flesh . The net began dragging me up, and I could feel the pain again. Before I knew it, everything was dazzling bright and I couldn’t breathe. I thrashed around, trying to get back into the sea to breathe again. I felt their tails flapping and hitting into my face. I gasped and gasped, but I could not breathe! The net was moving around and the other fish were frantically trying to slam their bodies against the net to break it, but it didn’t work. To my relief, I was placed back into the water. But something was wrong. It didn’t feel like it was an ocean. Suddenly, the water around me started swishing violently. I then realised my space was limited. The ocean that I was living in wasn't an ocean after all. It was a big blue bucket. Finally the water became still. I relaxed. I then felt an abrupt jolt, and I flew out of the blue bucket and into a glass tank caked with algae. In that split second I could see the outside world, but hazily through the dirty glass. Other fish swam around me, confused, unsure about the environment around them. Some fish around me even tried to knock their heads on the glass, trying to escape, though it was to no avail. A few days passed by quickly. I clearly remembered seeing my favourite food in the tank. It was my fifth day here, and after I saw the red worms wriggling around in the water, it made me snap out of my thinking of how to escape this gloomy place. Yes! I swirled around the tank. They became my favourite food. I quickly gobbled and fought over as many worms as I could find and eat. I devoured them! One thing that was better here was the food never ran out. Something weird happened that day, a fish disappeared from the tank! I wondered where that fish had gone… As I sat down in a near corner and returned to my thinking, a movement caught my eye. It had been a week here in this mouldy tank and this was something new! I hadn’t seen any movement yet in the tank other than fish swimming around. I swam towards the back of the hazy glass and I saw a kitchen. There were many people in the kitchen, and it seemed like they were very busy doing something. I saw fire burst out of a stove and a pan was on it. I swam above to see what was inside the pan. The chefs seemed to be focused on the pan. They added things in and they shouted at each other. Everything went in the pan. As I moved closer, I saw that inside was the fish that had disappeared! He was inside the pan with soy-sauce poured all over him.

‘Is he alive?’ I wondered. ‘How did he disappear like that? What is going to happen to him? Oh so many questions to answer! I really don’t know how he ended up here. I also don’t know how we got here from the ocean. I don’t think he is alive since he wasn’t moving. They also burnt him, so I guess the fire also killed him. Do you think the other fish in the tank will get killed as well? I hope not, or else it will get very lonely in this small tank.’ I turned around, from the tank and towards the outside. I saw many people walking around. There were a lot of business men dressed in smart suits talking on the phone or texting, as well as many construction workers working hard on drilling something near the water. Tall bamboo poles soared into the sky and the construction workers would climb up them, like how a sea snail would climb up seaweed. Some moms were sitting on a bench and talking with each other while their children chased each other around, screaming and laughing. They seemed like they were having a good time! They were all wearing many clothes, and the little kids were wearing mittens. I think it was probably cold outside. I noticed an old lady that looked out of place, her eyes were droopy and she looked very gloomy.

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She had hair that was white and grey, she wore a floral printed worn out shirt with holes bitten out by moths. Her pants were a size too big and her shoes were broken. She had a down jacket, but the fluff and feathers had mostly fallen out. I think she was very poor and didn’t have enough money to buy nice clothes. She was bent over inside a garbage can, she picked up soda bottles and cardboard and she put those into the trolley next to her. She was very hardworking, I could tell but she didn’t earn enough money. As she leaned over again, she was hunched over and began to push her trolley in the direction of our fish tank. Over the course of a few months, I noticed that this old lady would come each day to collect garbage and look at us. She always licked her lips as she stared at us, especially at me. I thought she was quite hungry! As well as this old lady visiting me, I also noticed that most of the fish were gone. I am sure that they were all cooked in the kitchen. There were only 3 fish now, and we didn’t know what to do. I guessed that we would just wait to be mysteriously scooped and cooked. This old lady would leave after having looked at us for a long time. I don’t think I was the only one that noticed her. The fat business man standing in front of the restaurant noticed her too, I think that this was the owner of the restaurant. He never said anything, he stared at her, just like we did. Another few weeks passed by. I saw many people in front of the large tower near the harbour. This was the only time the other fishes also looked at the event, most of the time they just spent sleeping or complaining with the other fishes about how their life is going to end miserably by getting eaten. As we all watched the hours passed by and more and more people arrived, creating a sea of people around the large tower. Suddenly, the people started shouting and moving around. I still remember clearly what they said: “3…2…1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!” I guess it was the start of a new year for everyone. The people were happily dancing and fireworks were set alight glittering into the night sky. After a few months, it was Chinese New Year! This was the only festival I knew since I would see many adults and children dressed up in traditional Chinese costumes, and I also saw many firecrackers and lion dances. As I was looking out the window into the kitchen and the restaurant, I saw many people sitting around the tables, happily eating and chatting. Even the owner, who was usually in a bad mood was happy and excited today. As I turned towards the outside, the Old lady that had been staring at me for a few months was here again. Then, the owner of the restaurant came out to smoke. As he saw the old lady, he smiled. He said loudly that she could choose anything she wanted on the menu and order it. The old woman entered the store, this time sitting at one of the tables, and I watched her as she eagerly pointed to a spot on the menu, smiling widely and showing her rotted, yellow teeth. The waiter returned to the kitchen, and suddenly I felt myself being lifted out of the tank. I flopped around, gasping desperately for air but to no avail, my gills weren’t working!! As I struggled around in the net, I didn’t see where they brought me. I suddenly was placed down on an oily, warm surface. And then, everything went red.

Fiction: Group 3

How Lucky Could A Man Get? Chinese International School, Fung, Liam - 13, Fiction: Group 3

30-year-old unemployed man, Tian, left his 30-square-foot flat in To Kwa Wan, walking slowly and sombrely to the bus station. He barely had enough for the bus fare, let alone the return trip, and he owed 10 months’ worth of rent.

“Get out of my office,” the boss said as Tian reached out to shake his hand. “You are useless to this company! No experience, unable to do simple tasks… You have let this generation of workers down.” The boss pointed to the door. “Out!” Tian shook his head. This was the thirty-something time he was rejected from a job, but he could not do anything about it. Sombrely, he reached for the doorknob and rushed out. Nobody could recognize his potential. Nobody could recognize that he wasn’t useless. How unlucky could a man get? Tian walked home, realizing that there was nothing he could do to comfort himself except get angry at the boss. Calling him useless, Tian snorted. He would know what useless meant if he looked in the mirror! He sat down in his chair with the hundreds upon hundreds of newspapers he had, looking for job opportunities. Suddenly something caught his eye. “Quick money! Come to Shenzhen and apply as a factory worker!” He saw the glint of an opportunity. This was his chance, to prove wrong all of those who had doubted him, to prove that he was a man who could work. * Long worked at the Factory of Good Hope for a long twenty years, slowly moving through the ranks to become a general supervisor of the packaging wing. Every day, there were people who went up to him looking for a job, and every day those people would go home heartbroken. He crossed his arms, looking at his workers. Little did he know that this would be his last day at the factory. Suddenly, the siren went off and Long was summoned to the boss’s office. The boss was sweating and seemed very pressured, with dark bags under his eyes. “We can’t do anything. This factory is going downhill and profits are shrinking by the minute.” He looked up sadly into Long’s eyes, handing him his last pay check. “This factory is going to get shut down. You should move out of here and tell your workers to leave.” This struck Long like a bullet through his brain. It had taken him twenty long years to get to this position, and in the end it just shuts down? This was very hard for him to accept, but he murmured, “Yes sir,” and walked slowly out of the office. Luckily, he had a large pension fund that had accumulated over the years. Long went back home, disappointed, and knowing that it was hard to get a job nowadays in Shenzhen without a degree, he felt hopeless. He slumped into a soft couch and thought hard. What could he do to get a job? Suddenly, a thought struck him. If he couldn’t get hired, couldn’t he hire others and give them an opportunity? He thought about some way to find people who would do their job properly. Suddenly, he had a great idea. * Tian was finally in glorious Shenzhen. He went to the address the newspaper had given him and walked up to the reception area. After a while, the interviewer shook his hand and Tian jumped out of the office, ecstatic. He had a job, finally! 1 month later… Tian, who had stayed in the factory for a whole month, was happy about his security and was sure he could continue living as he now did for a good time to come. Suddenly, he saw his wing’s manager walk up to

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him. He seemed really angry about something. “Go to the boss’s office. Someone has a message for you.” He shuddered. Although he had never had a job before this one, going to the boss’s office, no matter for what reason, was probably not a good sign. He forced a smile, thanked the manager and walked slowly and grudgingly to the boss’s office to receive the message. The boss pointed to a tape recorder on his desk. “There it is. The only thing I heard was someone asking me to pass this message to you. I have listened to it, and this is dangerous to both our credibility and yours.” Tian picked up the tape recorder and listened to the message. “This message is to Tian. Please pass the message on to him. This is your landlord. I have called the police and they have traced you to this factory. If your rent is not paid within the next year, further investigation will begin and both you and the factory will be in some deep trouble.” Tian’s heart seemed to fall out of his chest. He owed so much to the landlord, it would take him years to pay it off! He was in shock and couldn’t think straight. What could he do to make it up? The boss raised his eyebrows. “Well? Can you pay it back?” Tian shook his head. The boss looked very unhappy. “As part of company policy, you will have to leave your job and leave now.” Tian frowned. He was back to square one, or maybe even further back - he had nothing left except a few hundred RMB, and he was in trouble with the police. Tian walked out of the factory, dejected. Suddenly, he saw an advertisement on the wall: “Long’s Currency Exchange Station! Workers needed! Please go to:...” Tian waited no longer and found himself dashing to the nearest newspaper stand to buy a map. He ran all the way to the address. About 20 minutes later, Tian found himself in front of the exchange station, asking the man named “Long” for a job. After a brief exchange of words and negotiations, Long looked into Tian’s eyes. “Since you’re so sincere about it, I’ll let you try a day here and see if you do well.” Tian looked resolutely into Long’s eyes. “I won’t let you down.” Long laughed. “Let’s see what you can do.” Tian walked over to one of the stations on the side of the shop. A man walked over to him. “Please give me US dollars for this money.” Tian looked at the conversions on the wall. “USD:RMB 0.16:1” He took the 1,000 RMB, and gave the man $6,250. The man looked surprised and said, “I think you got it wrong.” Tian shook his head. “No, I’m sure this is right.” Long walked over to the stall and saw the $6,250 on the table. He shook his head, took back the money and gave the man the right amount. As soon as the man left, Tian apologized and started to leave the exchange station. Long held him back. “Where are you going? If you give up on everything, you won’t get anywhere. The only way you can learn is to try harder.” Tian turned around and looked at Long. Was this guy a saint or what? Tian had another customer, whom he served quickly. Long smiled and nodded his head. “That’s the way to do it, son.” Then, Tian had another one, which was very simple, and Long had the same reaction. Finally, after a short wait, a man came and handed Tian two different currencies, which he wanted to change into two separate types of currency. “Hurry up, I’m in a rush here!” He tapped his feet on the ground. Tian looked desperately at Long. Suddenly, what Long said popped up in his brain again: “If you give up on everything, you won’t get anywhere. The only way you can learn is to try harder.” Tian nodded and got back to work. He quickly moved his hands around the computer, accurately doing calculations, and finally, gave the exact amount to the customer, who smiled, thanked him, and left. Long saw Tian’s face and said four words that meant everything to him. “You got the job.” That meant he could live in security. Suddenly he thought of something: The rent. Tian sank onto his knees. The rent! How could he have forgotten… He scratched his head. What in the world could he do? Long saw Tian’s strange reaction. “What’s wrong?” Tian shook his head. “Nothing… It’s just that I owe someone a lot of money…” Long smiled. “That’s fine. As long as you do your job, when the time comes, I’ll give you the money so you can pay it back.” Tian was still tense. When the time comes? What on earth could that mean? “Okay…” Long nodded his head. “Good. Now get to work.” Quickly, three months passed. Tian had mostly uneventful days, but all he had on his mind was the debt he had to repay. Tian worked hard and long to get the money he needed. One day, Long walked over to him and patted his back. “Here’s your money.” Tian took the money, thanked Long and walked to the sleeping area behind the shop.

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The next morning, Tian opened the envelope. He was surprised to see a substantial amount of money and a slip of paper. He took out the paper. It said, “You’ve been working hard lately. Here is the money you need.” Tian looked up, and Long smiled through the window. Tears welled up in Tian eyes. He smiled and thought, “How lucky could a man get?”

Fiction: Group 3

The Winter Rains Chinese International School, Lai, Charlotte - 13, Fiction: Group 3

he summer sun shone brightly, warming the earth. Beneath the heavens, was the pinnacle of the

breath taking Eagle Cliff. The gem-like rocks and towering cliffs overshadowed the majestic Pearl River, winding to the east. Yet when the water reached the village of Yumin, it became inky and

murky, filled with waste. On the edge of Eagle Cliff, stood the exquisite Lo-shen, the Chinese goddess of rivers. She swayed

her bouncy, glossy hair in the wind. Shimmering in the sun, her Sapphire blue dress and her golden shawl blew gently in the summer breeze. Her diamond headpiece shone brightly. Yet her eyes were red and

swollen, with little streams pouring out of them. Drops of salty water rolled down her cheeks into the polluted, garbage-filled water below.

Crying sorrowfully, she gasped, “My river, my beautiful river. What have those horrid humans done to you?”

Wiping away her tears, Lo-shen considered what she should do. “Should I go and talk to the people? No, they won’t listen... but I’m a goddess! I can say whatever I want, and the people should listen,”

she thought to herself. “I’ll just go talk to them.” She then gathered her servants, and a gust of wind swept her off her feet, bringing her to Yumin.

In the village Lo-shen approached a man. Seeing Lo-shen, one of the most powerful goddess walking over to him, his face became pale and he trembled.

Lo-shen said to him, “I am Lo-shen, goddess of rivers. I am here to speak to your chieftain.” Heart pounding wildly, the man pointed his trembling finger at the Buddhist temple. There, she

found the chieftain sitting at a table daydreaming. “What a scruffy fellow,” she thought. Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, she saw a box full of rubbish. On the box was written, “to be dumped in river.” Lo-

shen was furious. As the chieftain looked up from his table, he saw a pair of icy, cold eyes glaring at him and nostrils

flaring. A stunning woman with her hands in fists, bent over him, scowling at him. “Chinese Ghost month has past ages ago. Get out of that costume and get back to work!” the

chieftain yelled, thinking Lo-shen was one of the commoners from the village. Lo-shen shouted impatiently, “I am Lo-shen, the goddess of rivers. Not a commoner!”

Still not believing her, the chieftain cheekily quipped, “Of course your highness, and I am the Jade Emperor, so you must bow down to me, peasant. Now enough of this drama and get back to work!”

The goddess calmly pointed her finger at the chieftain. Before he could react, he was drenched in river water from head to toe.

Realizing his mistake, he stuttered, “Oh, of course, you are our beautiful goddess. How are you this fine morning?”

Pointing at the box of garbage, she demanded, “What do you have against my river? Why are you and your people polluting my rivers? Do you have any idea how hard I work to make them flow smoothly?

Water is a valuable resource. All life depends on water for survival, including you. This rubbish you are dumping will kill all aquatic life. If polluted, my streams will be contaminated and will not be potable. Do

you understand?” The chieftain was speechless after hearing what Lo-shen said.

He slowly came back to his senses and responded respectfully, “Of course your majesty, I

completely understand.” He bowed down low to the goddess. “I will immediately inform the people.” “I would really appreciate that,” Lo-shen declared.

Swaying her golden shawl briskly, she disappeared into thin air.

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As soon as Lo-shen left, the chieftain snorted and muttered to himself, “Oh that high and mighty goddess, just barging in here and ordering us around. I don’t care what she says. Who is concerned about

her and her stupid rivers? I am not. I’m in charge around here, not her.” He then continued daydreaming.

That night, the people silently came again carrying tons of trash. Bucket by bucket, they dumped into the water reeking piles of food, shards of broken glass and used paper. Instead of flowing smoothly, the

water became choppy and turbulent. The next day, when Lo-shen went to check on the Pearl River, her eyes widened with horror as

hot steam poured out of her ears like waterfalls. Raising her voice, she declared, “That man, he lied to me! My poor, contaminated river. I will tell

Fu-Hsing.” She proceeded up alone to the Eagle Cliff where all the other gods lived and found Fu-Hsing, the

God of Happiness, resting after the whole day of making people happy. As she started telling him the whole story, tears trickled down her bright red cheeks.

He responded by jubilantly saying, “Look at the positive side. It’s only one tiny river. Not a big deal. Just relax and be happy.”

Poor Lo-shen looked to the ground and thought, “It’s pointless talking to him. He’s always so cheerful and has never quite understood how much rivers mean to me.” Tired and frustrated, she plopped

down on the cold stony ground and started wailing, while Fu-Hsing merrily kept talking. The following day when she looked down at the Pearl River, not only did she see her river piled

up with trash, she also saw fish and seagull corpses floating on the surface of the water, as the pollution had killed them. She cried and cried. As waterfalls of tears poured out of her eyes, the liquid dropped down into

the valley below, forming a river. As Lo-shen wept, the water level slowly rose more and more.

Many days passed. Gushing down the mountain was a huge cascade of water. The valley was already full of water, but Lo-Shen was still wailing. She continued crying and the river overflowed. Water

burst into the village, terrifying people who fled for their lives. Yet, the water still kept coming until everything was wet and everyone was soaked from head to toe. The news quickly reached Fu-Hsing who

went to find Lo-Shen to tell her how much damage she had done.

“Lo-Shen, you have to stop crying. You are putting people in danger,” Fu-Hsing sighed as he pointed to the flooded village.

The moment Lo-shen heard him, she stopped crying and looked towards the village.

“What! How did that happen?” she gasped in horror.

Fu-Hsing explained, “You have been crying non stop for a few days now. Your tears drizzled

down into the valley and formed a river, which overflowed and flooded the village below.”

“Oh no!” exclaimed Lo-shen.

Lo-shen went down to the village to talk to the people. Everyone was on wooden rafts and boats. It was a total disaster. When they saw Lo-shen, they started scolding her.

“This wicked lady! She caused this to happen to us,” the villagers told each other, pointing their

fingers angrily at the goddess.

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One, staring straight into Lo-shen’s eyes, snapped, “Why did you do this to us?”

“You have been polluting my river. Water is a very valuable resource and we should treasure it. I am surprised your brilliant chief did not tell you this,” Lo-shen responded sarcastically.

”Who does she think she is? She cannot criticize our chief!” the villagers muttered to one another.

“Now stop this!” Lo-shen exclaimed in anger. “I shall still help you, but you must have a

punishment!” She gazed to the sky and at a snap of her fingers, Lo-shen sent the water in the village into the sky where it became water vapour.

They now knew what Lo-shen was capable of and were too scared to pollute her rivers ever again.

The second the water was gone, they immediately went on their knees and begged Lo-shen for forgiveness. Some younger ones even started to sob.

Finally, the chief stood up and pleaded with the Goddess, “This is mainly my fault, and I am very

sorry Lo-shen. I should have listened to you. We will stop polluting the river. Please do not punish us more.”

Lo-shen pitied them, but what they did was wrong, so she softened up a bit and responded, “You

will be punished, but only once a year.”

Before anyone could argue with Lo-shen, she and her servants were gone. No one knew what the punishment was or when it would occur, so they just had to be prepared for anything.

The next winter, when the sun was shining brightly in the sky, Lo-shen decided it was time to

punish the people for polluting her river. She sent storms and typhoons to the village, trenching it with water in between the months of June and September. Even till nowadays, Lo-shen still remembers to

punish the people, sending tempestuous storms, which soak everyone and everything in the region.

Fiction: Group 3

Clifford Chinese International School, Lee, Lynn - 12, Fiction: Group 3

Pearl River Delta, where the Pearl River meets the South China Sea, is a land of stories. People from all over the world come here to pursue their dreams, and it is easy to find a stranger with a wonderful story to tell. In one of the small local inns down a quiet street, a stranger with mud brown and ragged clothing sat by a small fireplace, surrounded by other men. “You wouldn’t have recognized me a few years ago,” the stranger began, “I was a successful banker working with great people. Everyone wanted to work with me, Clifford Clyde.” the stranger bragged. “One day, I received an invitation from the President of China himself to work with him in the Pearl River Delta. Just because he is a president doesn’t mean that he doesn’t need a banker.”

A gasp of awe came from the other men sitting around the inn’s small fireplace. After a ship carrying stolen national treasures from China had sunken in the Pearl River a few years ago, those approved by the President of China were the only ones allowed to get anywhere close to the Pearl River. The President of China had been sending down a team of divers to go see if there were any other stolen items on the ship. Less than 5％ of the humans on earth had seen the Pearl River after the ship had sunken, and it was an honor to be invited to go there.

The innkeeper was the only man who didn’t gasp, but instead he had chuckled under his breath. He had heard Clifford’s story numerous times, but still stopped and listened in the middle of his work for more of the stranger’s voice that brought the listeners on an extravagant journey. He had heard it so much, that he could tell the story got more exaggerated the more times Clifford told it. The first time the innkeeper heard the story, Clifford had gone scuba diving but had wandered too far from the restricted zone and had accidentally swum into the Pearl River. The innkeeper never knew which of Clifford’s versions of the story was true, or if any of them were true, but he knew that they all followed the same storyline. His favourite version of the story was the version he first heard, and he still remembered it.

After Clifford had swum into the Pearl River, he decided to look around at the fish and the corals in the sea. The sun shone into the river, and Clifford saw a flash of gold. Humans are like magpies in stories- they are attracted to things that are shiny. Like an average human would, Clifford dove down to pick up the shiny object. “I was so concentrated on the fact that I could be rich, that I didn’t notice something crucial.” Clifford said. Swiftly, Clifford picked up the shiny object and kicked to swim up. However, he realized that he was holding his breath, and he didn’t have enough oxygen in his tank anymore. Suddenly, the surface looked so far away.

Clifford urgently kicked his feet with all his might, praying that he could get up to the surface before he had to let go of his breath. His heart pounded as he frantically moved his legs in a circular motion, pushing himself to get to the surface. Moments in his life flashed before his eyes, and he almost forgot that there once was a time when his lungs had air in them. Just when he could see the sky, he let go of his breath.

When Clifford opened his eyes, he was lying on a bed in a hospital room. Seeing the confused and curious look on his face, the doctor informed him that he was found floating on the Pearl River, and his wedding ring that had been clutched in his hand when he was rescued was in the drawer next to his bed.

Clifford didn’t know what the doctor said when he spoke of his wedding ring. He wasn’t even married. Clifford felt a sudden epiphany and realized that the shiny object he had found was a wedding ring.

Clifford was released from the hospital a few days afterwards, and was dropped off at his house by the doctor. Clifford walked towards a jewelry shop in town fingering the ring while he walked. When he finally arrived at the shop, he opened the door and walked in, the bells on the door announcing his arrival.

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The shopkeeper looked up from his computer and addressed Clifford with a smile. “How may I help you today?” He asked. Clifford set the ring down on the counter. “How much is it worth?” Clifford asked. The shopkeeper examined the ring, rotating it every now and then, and sighed. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to examine this even further, inside my office. If you care to take a seat, I will get back to you in a few minutes,” he said.

Before Clifford knew it, the police had come into the shop and handcuffed him. “Is he the man?” one of the policemen asked. The shopkeeper came out of his office, holding Clifford’s ring, and nodded yes. “This ring is one of the stolen national treasures of China. This man came into my shop with it, and I promise you, I don’t know where he got it.” The shopkeeper explained. Before Clifford knew it, he was being taken to the police department.

Clifford was released from jail 3 years later, and was given a HKD 1,000,000 fine. He was also known all over the world for being a national treasure thief, and his reputation was scarred forever, all because he accidentally wandered into the Pearl River.

Fiction: Group 3

Wrath of the Black Turtle Chinese International School, Sun, Andrew - 13, Fiction: Group 3

In the powder blue sky, the scorching golden yellow sun hung like a red lantern, discharging heat waves that struck the lone man like a rock. In the distance, he could see Mount Baiyun surrounded by luminous clouds. He was familiar with this part of the Pearl River as he had sailed past it thousands of times before. The algae water had a tinge of emerald green in it, leaving the steaming river with a turquoise colour. There on his boat he sat, gazing at the radiant sun’s reflection. As drops of sweat trickled down his back, he pondering his sad fate, for it had been many months since he had been able to catch enough fish to feed his family. Running his gnarled hands through his damp dark beard, he fervently gasped. “Ai ya! I am surely a poor fisherman for if I return empty handed, my family will starve.” Suddenly he saw a black object dart across the river leaving a trail of river spume. Startled, Bo Hai gasped in amazement. No! it couldn’t be! A fish? Throwing the net gracefully across the patch of river that was distilled by the creature, he strained eagerly over the edge of the boat. The net landed right on top of the creature. He deftly pulled back the net and gasped in amazement. Skimming above the water, its ebony black shell gleaming in the sun, was a sacred black turtle. Bo Hai’s hands trembled as he tugged in his miraculous catch and deposited it in the bottom of the boat. He then exclaimed in awe. Crawling in front of Bo Hai was the turtle of the mythical god Gong Gong, the turtle of longevity, the most gorgeous thing in the world. “My my, you are a beauty! You will bring me many riches!” remarked Bo Hai as he carefully put the turtle into a bucket of water. “The wealthy people of Beijing will pay greatly for you, for they foolishly believe that whoever possesses you, fate will not allow to die and for you will bring them immortality.” His hands trembled in glee as he rapidly pulled up the sails and pointed the boat’s nose towards home. However, not even five minutes had passed before he felt a gust of wind howling around his head, saw lightning flaring across the sky, and heard the thunder growling around his ears. Then came the rain. It wasn’t like any storm he had seen before. It was tempestuous, catastrophic, cataclysmic, and most of all frightening. It was like the storm and river were playing with him. “Oh, my how unlucky am I? I catch the grand turtle only for us both to die!” the terrified man wailed. Waves crashed down upon the boat, filling the bottom rapidly with salty river water. As the boat tipped dangerously sideways, Bo Hai grabbed a bucket and bent down to bale the water out of the boat. Suddenly, he saw his father’s reflection in the water. “Oh my God!” Bo Hai blurted out. The reflection remained silent, the eyes piercing deep into Bo Hai’s heart. “Could it be? No! It couldn’t” Bo Hai’s head shook in bewilderment. His father had been dead for fifteen years and Bo Hai didn’t believe in ghosts, not like those asinine people in the villages along the Pearl river, whox prayed to everything, including chairs. Looking back at the reflection, the shocked fisherman saw a face with beady eyes, which bored through his head like a bullet. Its beetling brows shot straight up in the air, its thick-lipped mouth scowled while the jaws clenched like a fist.

Suddenly, he remembered his father’s words to him as an apprentice fisherman. “Respect the gods especially Gong Gong as he is god of water and can decide your fate. Do not be foolish and proud my arrogant son!”

Bo Hai shook his head. Surely his imagination was getting the better of him. Had his father not been dead for fifteen years? He saw the turtle’s eyes darting back and forth from the Pearl River Delta to Bo

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Hai. Those deadly black eyes… could it be? Could his dad not have been so foolish?

Looking back at the reflection, Bo Hai could swear he saw his dad shrug and then there was nothing - just a sloshing pool of water.

Bo Hai thought quickly, “Could it be the turtle causing all this trouble? We will never have a chance to get out of the storm alive. But, if I return the turtle to to the river, I may survive.”

Bo Hai quickly made up a decision that he would throw the turtle back. Getting up, Bo Hai tried to steady himself as massive waves hit the boat. He stumbled towards the bucket where the turtle was. As the boat lurched in the waves, he slammed his head into the mast and swore. Rubbing his bruised forehead, he inched closer to the bucket until it was right beneath him- with the sacred turtle in full view. Picking the black tortoise up, he took one last glance at the creature and chucked it off the boat.

Abruptly, the clouds started to separate, allowing streams of sunlight to shine upon his boat. A light breeze brewed as the milky clouds, fluffy and soft, danced across the azure sky. The mountains in the distance appeared again lush and green. The glimmering river seemed to smile warmly at Bo Hai as he stared at the shiny ebony shell padding away towards the horizon.

Bo Hai shook his head in disbelief. Turning the mast around, he sailed back to the golden idyllic beach where he docked his boat with the other creaking barges. Listening to pebbles crunch under his buckling sandals, he shuffled towards his home empty handed but relieved. As the sun sank under the horizon of the Pearl River Delta, Bo Hai took out all his father’s belongings that he had buried under the bed when his father passed away. Quietly, he separated the statues that his dad used to bow to, from the old man’s clothes and shoes. He then carefully brushed the dust off the statues using a goose feather. Placing the statues on a wooden shelf near the window, he put the statue of the turtle in the middle. As he bowed down to them, he was sure out of the corner of his eye, he could see the turtle smile.

Fiction: Group 3

The Pearl River Delta Chinese International School, Wu, Claire - 12, Fiction: Group 3 The sun shined radiantly upon the azure sky. A row of effulgent flowers stood in the Wu’s garden as a sweet smell cut through the soft scent of the morning’s dewy grass. The tantalizing aroma then travelled into the windowpane, but due to the ambiance, it from a fragrance transformed into a stench. By the windowpane sat a young girl. She was effortlessly beautiful as her long black colored hair waved and caressed her body impeccably. Her ebony eyes were mesmerizing, enough to take over ones soul and wrap it in their heart. Yet her mood ruined it all. Her normal pleasant demeanor had vanished as her face contorted. Her fists were clenched as tears rolled uncontrollably down her flushed cheeks. She muttered and cursed, clearly infuriated. This charming yet upset lady was Lily Wu, a twelve year old, who lived in the rural area of Hong Kong near the Pearl River Delta. What infuriated Lily was her family. Well you see, Lily’s mother was an author, who drafted the most eloquent and thought-provoking novels. Lily’s father, on the other hand, was a doctor, who had cured countless of patients. Lily also had two older brothers who were both very clever. They exceeded in almost every subject and were liked by all the teachers. The Wu’s were a perfect family, at least until Lily came along. Unlike the rest of her family, Lily did not like literature, nor did she like history. She abominated science and abhorred math. The only thing that appealed to Lily was music. She loved playing the guitar and took it everywhere with her. Oh, how she adored hearing the different notes of melodies as they enveloped her, the many harmonies and the many tunes… But Lily’s family did not like music nor did they support Lily’s dreams to become a musician. As a result, Lily always felt like an outcast in her well-educated and prominent family. Lily sat by the windowpane, staring at her own reflection as she replayed the depressing scene in her mind of what happed today. She had asked her father to explain to her a math question, but no method had worked. At the end, he merely told her to go away, and called her a brainless pig. With tears streaming down her eyes, Lily ran up to her room. Yes, that was what happened, that was indeed what happened. Lily closed her eyes. She was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of trying and most of all tired of proving herself worthy to her parents. “Fitting in just wouldn’t work, no matter how hard I try,” Lily thought. Still upset, Lily took out her guitar and played her favorite song, “Let Her Go.” The sadness of the song seeped into her body as she felt a sudden rush of emotion. The normal calming effect the song had on her was broken. “I must go outside,” Lily thought “I need to calm down.” And so she did. Lily sauntered along the sidewalk, slowly and carefully. Then, she stopped. She had reached the Pearl River Delta. “Jump into the river, young girl.” A voice from nowhere echoed. Lily looked around, alarmed, yet there was nothing to be seen. “I must be dreaming!” she thought. “No, no you aren’t. Jump into the river!” Echoed the voice again, this time more certain.

Fiction: Group 3

Then, suddenly, the sky turned pitch black. The clouds were threatening and malicious. Lucy screamed in agony, as she felt a sudden force dragging her down into the river. The wind howled and the drops of rain hissed. The distant sound of thunder shook the ground. And with that, everything was back to normal. Lily felt weightless and free as she swam. She didn’t know where she was, but the place captivated her. She splashed through the line of corals and through the flocks of fish … “Lily!” A voice screeched as Lily recalled the same hissing voice that she had heard earlier. Lily turned around. In front of her was a ghost-like figure. She looked old, with lines of wrinkles on her face. She looked sad, yet at the same time fierce. “Who are you? Where am I? And why did you bring me here?” questioned Lily. “My name is HeShen and I am a spirit, The Queen of the Pearl River Delta. I have brought you into my territory, and for why you shall soon discover.” HeShen said, with a chuckle. “Follow me now.” Lily, petrified, followed her through the river. Then, right before their eyes, sat their destination- a breath taking, grand, golden castle. “This is my castle. Come in,” said HeShen. Lily suppressed a smile, and cautiously tiptoed inside the castle. While the outside of the castle was magnificent, the inside was even more splendid. The floor was made of polished stones; the chandelier was made of radiant corals; while animated fishes swam around. What captured Lily’s eye, however, were not these sights, it was instead merely a fish net. Lying on the floor was a fish net. There was something eerie about it that enraptured Lily. Cautiously, Lily picked up the fish net. Instantly, everything turned dark. Lily opened her eyes. Nothing had changed at all. She was still in that fabulous castle with HeShen, yet in front of them stood another lady, playing the guitar. She was young and pretty. She seemed jubilant and ecstatic as the melodies flooded the room. “That was me. I loved singing. Now, don’t speak, merely watch. ” HeShen whispered to Lily with nostalgia. Suddenly, the harmony that flooded the room was cut of, as soon as two adults stepped in. The young HeShen looked up, startled. “Sorry Mamma and Papa, I’ll do my homework now.” She apologized. Lily saw the same irritated face she had herself, as the young HeShen grudgingly took out her homework and not for long got stuck on a problem. The young HeShen then ran out of her room to ask her dad for a solution on the problem she was stuck on. Lily recognized the exasperated expression on HeShen’s dad when no method he had explained worked. Then, unanticipated, he slapped his young daughter. He called her an idiot and told her to leave him alone. Instantly, everything turned black. Lily opened her eyes again and the setting still had not changed. This time, however, stood a middle-aged woman in front of them. She was elegant, and looked as if she had an exquisite taste. She was, sitting on a desk, writing with immense concentration. Lily inferred that HeShen had, following her parent’s dream for her, become an author. Then out of the blue, lines of lyric for the song “Let Her Go” filled the air. It seemed to be HeShen’s favorite song. A drop of tear fell from her right eye, then another; until it accumulated into a watery puddle.

Fiction: Group 3

“I was depressed,” HeShen told Lily,“ Whenever I heard music I would shatter. I have been drenched in regret since. “ Lily nodded. “Don’t you get it, Lily? I know you are currently going through exactly what I have experienced! I am the future you, the old woman with wrinkles, the ugly spirit!” exclaimed HeShen. Then, it hit Lily. HeShen disliked school but loved music; just like her. HeShen had never been in great relations with her parents; just like her. Furthermore, HeShen had even gone through the exact same experiences as her. Everything made sense now. The Queen of the Pearl River Delta was Lily’s future. “You can change your destiny though. You don’t have to be me, that miserable old woman living in regret. You can, instead, live in your dreams and become a musician. All you have to do is to follow your passion. I chickened out at your age. Wanting to please my parents, I chose a path that I had no interest in. You can do better. “HeShen said, as if reading Lily’s mind. Lily nodded, as everything turned black. When she opened her eyes, she was back in her room. She found herself holding the guitar as notes of music escaped from her mouth. Lily smiled. “This is my future,” she thought. And from that day on, Lily worked harder than ever. Although she had faced many obstacles along the way, they had never stopped her tenacity. Ten years later, Lily Wu was in Julliard. There was her, performing her favorite song, “Let Her Go” in front of numerous crowds. Lily smiled. To her, it was more than a song. It reminded her of why she was here, today. All thanks to HeShen, The Queen of the Pearl River Delta, for giving her motivation. Lily closed her eyes as the melody graced her ears.

Fiction: Group 3

Dragon Ascent Chinese International School, Yung, William - 13, Fiction: Group 3

The incandescent sun gleamed vividly in the clear cobalt sky. Glistening in the warm sunlight, the peak of Mt Baiyun was encircled by white wispy clouds and the summit was completely shrouded in mist. Luminescent sun rays manifested hues of crimson, gold and amber which danced on the waves at the base of the cliff. Swishing gracefully, rolling waves curled onto the precipitous ebony rocks surrounding the coast. In the shallow waters of the shoreline, gnarly mangrove roots twisted and intertwined beneath the clear tranquil Pearl River. A tantalizing summer breeze blew across the water, rustling the clothing of a young fisherman sitting on a small wooden rowboat. Dressed in crimson, the young fisherman perched on the wooden helm holding out his bamboo fishing rod. His black eyes scanned the water examining the calm river for any fish. Leaning on the side of the boat, he cast his rod out towards the sea. He had been named the greatest fisherman in his town and was extremely proud of this achievement. After having devoted countless hours over many years, he was confident in the art of fishing. “What tasty treats am I going to catch today?” he said to himself. Straightening his body and crossing his legs, he patiently waited. Suddenly, a cataclysmic pull erupted from the depths of the river. The young fisherman pulled back as a surge of bewilderment and trepidation struck him. He apprehensively thought to himself, what fish could be this strong? As he furiously pulled and jerked, the row boat drifted a few meters. He paused for a moment without losing his tenacious grip. Catching his breath, he felt perspiration drip from his head. As the boat propelled forward, the fisherman staggered trying to regain balance. Another vigorous tug exploded from the river and the fisherman flipped over the side, plunging into the Pearl River. Engulfed in the piercing cold water, the fisherman held onto the rod with all the strength he can muster. Splashes discharged from every inch of the Pearl Delta river as the young fisherman was dragged, his mouth gaping open. Then the roaring water suddenly ceased, and the white froth evaporating into thin air. The fisherman struggled against the waves to get back on the boat. In one hand he clutched the edge of the boat and in the other hand he held the fishing rod with an iron grip as he pulled himself back on board. Having sat back down, he saw something that almost made him fall back off in shock. There at the end of his rod glistening in the morning sun was Shen Long, the most famed Chinese sea dragon. With the hook lodged firmly in his mouth, he vociferated tumultuously as saliva emitted from his mouth. The dragon’s extensive serpent like body was covered with satiny emerald scales. Its elongated face had two savage horns growing on his forehead and on his chin were chalky white whiskers swaying in the sunshine. Sharp intimidating teeth protruded from its mouth as its forked tongue darted in the sunlight. Shen Long tilted his head back and shrieked raucously. Suddenly dark menacing clouds hovered over the Pearl River Delta. Colossal rain droplets began to bombard the tiny boat, causing it to sway wildly from side to side. Thunder boomed in the distance. Gasping in alarm, the fisherman reached for the sails to head the boat home, only to hear a loud crack above his head. “What in the name of the Gods is that?” he gasped. “You, young man.... What do you think you are doing with my catch?” a voice reverberated. As a large ship emerged from the crest of a wave a dark figure appeared onboard, standing with hands on his hips and a sinister smile on his face. Cocking his head back to the sky, the figure belted out a minacious laugh. Staring across the five feet of ocean that separated his boat from the ominous ship, the fisherman felt his heart quake with fear. He pulled with all his might on his sails and turned the boat around hoping to flee, only to be met by massive wave that seized his boat and threw it head long into the pirate ship.

Fiction: Group 3

What happened next was a blur for the poor fisherman, but suffices to say, within less than five minutes, he was on the deck of the pirate boat with his legs bound with shackles. The fisherman groaned in pain and agony as he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes but quickly shielded his face from the intense beams piercing through the crevices between the wooden boards above. “In the name of the Gods, where am I?” The fisherman exclaimed in horror. Below his feet, he saw an emerald rug with scale like texture. Suddenly it began to move, the scales flexing in a spiral as a familiar ferocious face appeared in front of him. Trembling in fear, the fisherman tried to crawled away but he felt the tug of the shackles restricting his movements. A behemoth of a creature appeared in front of the petrified fisherman, “O the great Shen Long please have mercy!” the fisherman cried. Petrified he knelt before the dragon, praying fervently under his breath. Studying the fisherman’s intimidated eyes intently, Shen Long swayed its sinuous body. “Young mortal, do you not fear the wrath of the omnipotent Shen Long? The universe can be demolished in my wake. Have you no sense?” Shen Long snapped, his eyes flashed in fury as his tail whipped, crashing against the narrow walls. The fisherman was mesmerized by the eloquent stern voice of Shen Long. “I didn’t’t capture you. It was the pirates!” the fisherman exclaimed. “You got stuck on my rod by accident!” The fisherman paused for a moment. “We are both prisoners. See, my ankles are bound!” The clamorous metal clattered as he shook the shackles. The intense vermillion rays discharging from Shen Long’s eyes evaporated. and his muscles relaxed in an apparent sudden burst of realization. The once furiously thrashing tail slowed into a gentle sway. A wave of silence washed over Shen Long and the fisherman. The fisherman quietly whispered an audacious plan to the mighty Shen Long. “First I will attack one of the pirates as they bring us out of the ship. Then you will fly up in the air and fly away as I slow them down.” The confidence and vehemence in the fisherman's voice reverberated across the small room. Shen Long gazed at the fisherman. “Please Shen Long, believe in me. I can’t let these pirates do any harm to you,” the fisherman said ardently, clenching his fists as he talked. “I cannot let them continue with this! I will save the mighty Shen Long.” Suddenly the sound of boots clattering on the bare wooden floor. There was no time to waste. As the doors slammed open, a pirate stepped in. He opened his mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted by a blistering uppercut thrown by the fisherman. The pirate stumbled backward overwhelmed by the sudden outburst of pain. But soon two other pirates pinned the poor fisherman to the ground. “What have I got myself into?” the fisherman 3moaned, his heart palpitating rapidly. Bracing himself against the incoming pirates, the fisherman begged for mercy. But then just as the fisherman was about to give up, a pillar of scorching fire burst past him. The pirates fell back in pain and lay on the ground unable to contain their shock. A burst of light exploded in the room, as Shen Long reared up on his hind legs, roaring thunderously. Gazing in horror at Shen Long, the pirates trembled, their faces ashen as they crawled out of the room. The fisherman’s shackles quickly melted in Shen Long’s fierce flames. Soon, it was just the fisherman and Shen Long in the room. Silence fell as they looked at each other. “Well, come young mortal,” Shen Long said as he gestured to his back. The fisherman sat on Shen Long’s back, and as he placed his hands on the emerald scales which glistened in the dim light, the dragon rose off the ground and flew out of the room. In no time at all, they arrived at the beach, where the dragon dropped the fisherman off.

Fiction: Group 3

The young fisherman collapsed on the beach. Gazing at the idyllic Pearl Delta River, he watched Shen Long climb high into the whirly clouds then plunge down into the serene Pearl Delta River. As the fisherman sat up, he saw a streak of fire in the corner of his eye. “Gods do not need the help of pesky mortals.” echoed the dragon’s voice, as the creature soared over the Pearl River Delta and into the distance.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta

Christian Alliance SC Chan Memorial College, Chan, Po Yi - 13, Fiction: Group 3

nce upon a time, there was a great king named Yu Di. He was very kind and wise, he was also the most powerful god in history. Even in god’s standard, he was considered as one of the most caring gods. All his people worshipped him and looked upon him when unfair things happen. But the

thing about the gods…..Well, they live a long life, don’t they? And so they have A LOT of children, and so does Yu Di. He married two wives which are water and earth dragons and they gave birth to two beautiful daughters who are Chang and Huang, since the two daughters are both powerful and wise like Yu Di, he gave the largest river to Chang and the second largest to Huang, and since then on the rivers are known as Chang Jiang and Huang He. Chang is a water dragon and so Chang Jiang has the largest rainfall among all rivers, Huang is a earth dragon, and so Huang He’s river water is full of yellow dirt from where Huang rests, Huang Tu Gaoyuan. Surprisingly, Chang and Huang get along very well, they even called each other sisters!

The interesting thing comes a few hundred years later, when the goddess of harmony and peace gave birth to a triplet and claimed them to be Yu Di’s daughter. Chang and Huang were furious and thought to themselves: If the triplets are more beautiful and powerful than me, then dad won’t treat us as well as before! So Chang and Huang stormed in Yu Di’s palace and demanded for an explanation from him. Once they stormed in, they found themselves staring at the most stunning girls they’ve ever seen. They were shocked for a moment and quickly realized that the girls were the so called triplet daughters of Yu Di! For a moment, nobody spoke, then, Yu Di broke the awkward situation by introducing the girls, “Chang and Huang, my most beautiful daughters, here are your three new sisters, and they are Xei, Bei, and Dong. They will also be in charge of three rivers in different directions, Xei Jiang, Bei Jiang and Dong Jiang.”

Chang disliked the triplets at first sight because they are more beautiful than her and she knows that one day they are going to be the most powerful river patron goddesses in history. Huang also disliked them and so the two goddesses talked together and figured out a plan to make the triplets disappear in a “accident”. By mixing up their blood and godly powers, Chang and Huang created the most powerful monster called flood. The monster can cause water to overflow and bring diseases. Then on one sunny day while the triplets were taking a nap, they released flood and it destroyed half of China in less than a day, and most of the people die from flood’s attack. Bei was the first to wake up and called the other two sisters up, they were sorry for the people who have died and swore to have their revenge, since Chang and Huang were older and wiser than them, and there will be no way to defeat them in a single to single battle, the triplets mixed their powers up and created a place called Pearl River Delta to be their base and offered sanctuary to the people who have lost their homeland. They defeated Chang and Huang in the end by using their powers and the help from the people they have helped, and after the battle, the triplets were greatly rewarded by Yu Di by providing them a large amount of population living along the rivers, and Chang and Huang were punished by never letting them to go down to the human world again. Since then on, the great place which helped a lot of people is called Pearl River Delta.

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Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Christian Alliance SC Chan Memorial College, Leung, Kwan Ting-13,Fiction: Group 3

nce upon a time, there was a King in China called Yu Huang Da Di. He had three daughters. Their names are Jade, Agate and Pearl respectively. Yu Huang Da Di sent his three mortal daughters to be the Guardians of three rivers-Chang Jiang, Huang He and Zhu Jiang.He first gave

them powers like controlling the tide, flood, and water pollution etc. He said the best guardian among three will get the ultimate reward which is immortality. The Guardian of each river are decided by balloting. Jade, the oldest, got the longest river; Agate, the second, got Huang He; Pearl, the youngest, got the shortest, which is Zhu Jiang and was very depressed. She thought She can never do as good as her sisters. She thought her job is useless and will never be better than her sisters since Zhu Jiang is the shortest river among three. She went to Zhu Jiang in a sad mood. However, her sisters are very eager for the competition and the prize. They headed straight to the river they guarded. When Pearl arrived Zhu Jiang, she realize people live there doesn't know how to irrigate their crops. he helped them to build irrigation systems. The locals therefore like her a lot. She realized the locals are very nice and friendly. She started to like her job a lot. One day, when Pearl was patrolling in the river bank at downstream, she realize there was a Chinese White Dolphin trapped by a fishing net near the junction of South China Sea and Zhu Jiang. She wanted to save the dolphin, but it's very risky for her since she cannot control seawater and salty water may burn her skin and she may disappear in this world forever. She knew it's risky because she thought every life is worth saving. She jumped into the water but the current was against her as if telling her go back to the shore. But her mind was already made up and nothing can change it. After swimming against the strong tide, she finally reaches the dolphin and began to free it. However, she started to feel something like fire burning beneath her skin. She could hardly breathe. She was suffocating. She was almost done freeing the dolphin, but meanwhile her skin was also burning and she saw some of her skin was shining bright red and she felt extremely painful. She finally done freeing the dolphin, she tried to swim back to the shore, but it was too painful. Her head were suddenly fill with images of her deceased mother, her caring father, her dearest sisters... At the final moment, she decided to let it all go. She thought she already done a lot of good deeds. She helped the locals. It doesn't matter if they remember or worship her, as long as she thought they were all worthy of her heart. She stopped struggling and let herself finally rest.

*** After knowing her daughter's death in the Zhu Jiang Delta, her father, Yu Huang Da Di was very sad but also very proud of her daughter. He improved the water quality of the delta and renamed the Pearl River Delta to make everyone remember the brave act of Pearl and to honour her spirit of self-sacrificing forever.

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Fiction: Group 3

The Eyes Of The Dragon Creative Secondary School, Tam, Veronica - 13, Fiction: Group 3

nder the brilliant sun, the river is glimmering brightly, almost blinding me with sparkling shards of light. The day breeze blows across the surface of the water, stirring up successions of ripples. On this hot sunny day, the eagles are surfing over the high mountains in the cloudless sky. Just before

the river descends into the sea, it irrigates a huge piece of greedy land which stretches thousands of miles across South China. Different from other parts of the country, here there are no famous historical remains, no fascinating masterpieces of art nor any enchanting culture. However, the place has been the sweet homes for billions of people, who lived there peacefully for generations. Here, is Pearl River Delta, where all the mysterious tales begin …… Once upon a time, the ruler of ancient China was Emperor Heaven, who had earned unfailing support from his people because of his bravery, kindness and wisdom. He was handsome, strong and intellectual, and therefore respected by every single person in the country. His Queen, Daisy was an elegant lady with long black hair and pale, silky skin. Her voice was as sweet as that of a nightingale, her songs enchanted the audience and the melody persisted even after days. Her smile possessed an unbelievable the magical healing power. However, inside their Palace, the Emperor and the Queen were sadden by the deadly silence because no children’s laughter had ever been heard. One day Queen Daisy prayed desperately to the Goddess of Fertility, “I beg for your kindness, please give a prince or princess to my country and I will thank you in whatever way you want.” She felt asleep soon afterwards; she found herself in a foggy forest and did not know where she was. A boy whispered “Hi! Mother, please come to me, I have been waiting for you for five hundred years.” She traced the voice, opened her eyes widely and searched carefully. All of a sudden, there was a pair of green eyes glistening in front of her. She was stunned to see a small black dragon, staring back at her. The dragon looked fierce but adorable, and was about to sneeze with fireball blasting out. Queen Daisy screamed loudly and woke up from the nightmare sweating profusely with her gown soaked. Ten months passed by and the Queen gave birth to a young prince, Pearl, who had a dragon like birthmark on the left side of his chest. The Queen thought it was somewhat familiar to the dragon she had dreamt about. The whole country was filled with joy and celebration for the future King lasted for a month. Everyone was delighted and excited about this unexpected marvellous news! Times passed swiftly, and by the time Pearl was 20 years old, the Emperor Heaven had become old and frail, with tree-like patterns wrinkling his forehead. He had ruled for many years and undoubtedly, the old Emperor was very proud of the great success of the country, whose territories extended along the Yellow River, from the mountains to the sea, from west to east. On land, the Empire was the invincible super power. In the capital, there were grandiose palaces, temples and garden built of gold and high quality timber. However, the people did not have to work because captured enemies were treated as slaves; therefore, their lives were terribly luxurious and had descended into immorality. All sorts of evil crept into their minds. They became selfish, suspicious and paranoid. Peace and trust among them were gradually eroded. Blood shedding fighting and battles happened for irrational reasons. The country was a mess; full of arguments, and the people’s desires could never be satisfied. Price Pearl was just a living copy of his father. Besides being strong and energetic, he was also very scholastic, and his charisma arrested every young woman he encountered. Moreover, he had also inherited the fine characters of his mother, sympathy and compassion. On day, he hunted in the Royal garden with the old Emperor. They hid behind the bushes, holding their breath while waited for the prey to come. Suddenly, the absolute silence was broken by dogs’ bark, which had begun chasing madly after a poor little deer with brilliant golden hair. Pearl jumped onto his beloved horse- “Black Beauty” and followed quickly. After a while, he saw the deer was shivering in a circle enclosed by the dogs. “Go away! Leave the small animal alone,” Pearl shouted. The dogs retreated immediately, watching the Prince step slowly towards the deer with a smile that was friendly and comforting. “Go and find your parents little one!” The deer licked

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Fiction: Group 3

his hand, kissed his face and then ran away. Later on, Emperor Heaven came with his guards and surprised to find that the little animals had been released.” Don’t you know that the skin of this deer is the most beautiful one that I have ever seen before,” said the Emperor, irritably. Pearl did not enjoy the life of being the Prince. There were too many restrictions set by his father and he could not relate to the desires of the people. As he grew older and older, the gap between them was torn wider and wider. One day, as the Emperor Heaven showed Pearl his future domain from the top of a mountain and offered the throne to him, Pearl confessed “Father, I don’t want to be the King. I long to be an ordinary man, and have a simple and peaceful life. In fact, I have decided to leave the country.” Emperor Heaven could hardly believe his ears and bellowed at his son with explosive anger. All of a sudden, colourful clouds, red, yellow, green, purple…appeared, surrounding around the Prince, his slim figure vanished gradually. After a stunning flash, a black dragon broke through the clouds and flew up to the sky. It turned back and looked at the stunned Emperor. After a roar, it headed towards the south with a thunderous swoosh. The black dragon snaked his way between the mountains in south China, which was a desert at that time without trace of water. Land was dry and cracked on the surface and nobody lived there. However, he did not want to return to his father’s home because his true treasure was his freedom. Finally, he stopped on the highest mountain, which originated from the Plateau. The boundary of the old Empire was so grand that the dragon, exhausted all energy on his journey and laid down with the head rested at the east coast. After drinking the last sip of water from the sea, the poor dragon laid down his head and slowly died. Its body started melting and blood dripped from the heart gradually, following the along deep valley, from the west to south. Its blood cultivated the lands that it passed through. The head of the dragon turned into Guangdong, the heart of the Pearl River Delta. Its sparkling eyes are now the two famous cities, Hong Kong and Macau. Maybe due to the blessing from the black dragon, the Pearl River has been more modest and more seldom flooded than the Yellow River. For more than a thousand of years, lives in Pearl River Delta have been simple and peaceful, and with little conflicts. Most of the residents were farmers or fishermen, generation after generation. Local residents are hardworking, innovative and friendly. Nowadays the Pearl River Delta zone has developed into one of China’s leading economic regions and a major manufacturing center. Since the start of operation of the Shenzhen Metro in December 2004, Hong Kong and other cities in the Pearl River Delta Area are now even interconnected by subway and rails! The Pearl River Delta has been the most important agricultural area of China. The region had gone from strength to strength, signifying the re-birth of the young black dragon as its eyes glow once more.

Fiction: Group 3

Dark Waters of the Pearl River Delta Delia School of Canada, Panda, Swoyam - 13, Fiction: Group 3

anny had told me get back from the store immediately after fetching a few juice cartons and a yoghurt bottle. However, nothing can get a spoiled delinquent to obey instructions without some procrastination. Right after getting out of a Seven Eleven, I noticed a nearby parking lot. I pulled

out my lighter and started burning car tyres. After vandalizing a few cars, I put on a grin and decided to leave when I heard an indignant shout, followed by swearing. There were a few strangers whom I had never seen before. I went into a coma like state when one of them spotted me.

“We found another one.”

Said the bulkiest man of the four. The man advanced towards me and lifted me off the ground. I offered no resistance and just froze. Soon I was blindfolded and gagged. After a minute, I felt a sharp sting in my calf. My limbs were paralysed. I heard one of the men mention Guangzhou. That was the last thing I heard before my eyes shut. “Yong, did you spray graffiti on Mr. Zhou’s lawn ornaments? Come here right now!”

I had been caught by my nanny for another of my acts of vandalism. I had been pampered by my parents until the age of seven. My father was the owner of a cobalt mine in China. A few weeks before my eighth birthday, both my parents went on an inspection tour of a newly constructed sector of the mine. They never returned. I had spent a day in an orphanage before all of China’s tycoons began to offer large sums of money to adopt me. My nanny divorced her rich husband when his business was facing losses. She paid the orphanage big cash for me. All of my father’s property was entitled to her. However, she ended up in a worse financial position than before. My father was indebted. Since my nanny had taken ownership of the company, she had to pay off all debts by selling the mine. Her hopes of becoming a millionaire were shattered. I have been living in Jiangmen with my nanny for about eight years. The absence of my parents did not affect me, as I was happy with my computer. My nanny never bought me what I wanted, so, I amused myself by doing minor crimes. This is why a typical day in my life would always start off with a phone call and my nanny screaming. My nanny grabbed a spatula from the kitchen and started chasing me around the house. I still used to live in a mansion when I was sixteen, giving me and my nanny a lot of room for playing chase. This was one of the rare occasions when my nanny failed to catch me. After a few minutes of panting, my nanny put down her spatula and handed over a fifty Yuan bill and a piece of paper. “Go fetch me the groceries on this list. Be quick or you are sleeping on the porch for the night.” I was more than happy to comply, as she sounded like she was holding herself back from strangling me. I grabbed the money and rushed out of the house. I walked to a nearby Seven Eleven and purchased whatever my nanny had asked for. I bought a lighter with the change. I was kidnapped ten minutes after stepping out of Seven Eleven.

*** I woke up and opened my eyes to see darkness. The noise of an engine infiltrated my head and the ground seemed to be shaking below me. After a few seconds, I realized that I was in a boat. I suddenly realized that I was a captive of those men I had seen. The noise of the engine was soon replaced by fear. My brain told me to try and get out of here however, I stayed in control. The boat soon stopped and I heard people shouting in Chinese. I felt the footsteps of a person coming closer to me. Then something cold run up my cheek and my blindfold and gag fell off. My eyes

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Fiction: Group 3

took time to adjust to the unusually bright setting I was in. I looked around the room to see other boys who seemed to be just about my age. There was a man standing in front of me with a knife, who cut out my blindfold and gag, I suppose. “Get up. You don’t want to be late for your new job.” What new job? Where are my juice cartons and yogurt? I decided to keep these questions to myself. While walking up the gangplank, I realized I was in Guangzhou. My aunt did not send me to school, but she was humane enough to let me use my laptop. I found it fun to look up crimes in China and my research has shown that Guangzhou is a criminal paradise. After a five minute walk through the desolate port, me and all the boys were led to the back of a cargo truck and shoved in. The entire place was in darkness after the doors were shut. All the boys broke out in panic. I decided to stay quiet the whole time. About fifteen minutes later, we were escorted to a building that I soon realized was a factory. We were taken to a large clearing by some trigger happy men. Each time those men fired a shot into the air; I would immediately clamp my hands above my head, just in case those rifles pointed to my head. A person with a gun started yelling out orders. After about ten minutes of blurred Chinese, a man came along handing us a shovel. We walked to a place where we were greeted by a blast of hot air. What lay in front of me were piles of rock and huge furnaces. It took me less than a minute to realize that we were kidnapped for forced labour. An uncomfortable feeling wrapped me when I thought that I could be stuck here for the rest of my life. I was standing facing the pile of iron ores, when a person shot another bullet into the sky. I quickly snapped out of my thoughts and started working. Daylight lasted for a long time. While I was working, an overseer flogged a child who seemed to be much younger than me. The overseer came with a metal chain and picked him as a target. The child fell to the floor and wept for an excruciatingly long period of time. I heard a faint murmur as the overseer left. “Have fun.” Soon, I heard the engines of a truck faintly rumbling in a distance. A man came around giving us loaves of whole grain bread. The man was talking as he handed out the bread. “This’ll get you through a day. Eat sparingly.” Some of the men seemed to be unusually kind for the shady job they were involved in. I made up my mind to talk to this person after dinner. My limbs had never done this kind of strenuous job before. I would wait for the overseer to stop looking at me and I would slow down my work. At sundown, we were put into groups of twenty. An armed man took us into the factory. The factory scorched my skin even though the furnaces were shut down. We were led to a flight of stairs that led us to a hall of underground room. The room was where we were supposed to sleep. The man locked all twenty of us in the room and left. I determined I was not spending a night in this hellhole.

Sudden silence fell upon the room when some footsteps were heard. The man who gave us the food had an announcement to make.

“Anybody needs to go to the bathroom needs to come along with me now.”

I took the chance and said that I needed to go. No one else wanted to leave the room. While following the man to the bathroom, I tried to engage him in a conversation.

“What’s your name?”

“Lee.”

Fiction: Group 3

“Why have we been kept here?” “For labour. This is one the biggest illegal iron production projects in China. You will work here for the rest of your life.” “What do you mean, ‘rest of my life?’ We have to be set free someday, right?” “Don’t waste your time holding onto that hope. I have been working here since I was seventeen. I was rebellious at first. Then I realized that it was useless. The men would do anything to stop being exposed and I tell this to you by experience. A couple rebellious workers had tried to escape. They were caught in less than two days and no one saw them after that. I worked for four years when an overseer decided to promote me and make me in charge of the delivery of the kidnapped children. I convinced myself that I was only going to be driving the boat and that was not incorrect.” “What if I tell you that I have a plan to escape? Now that you are no longer seen as a child, you can escape more easily.” This made him stop for a moment. “So, what’s your plan?” Obviously, I was improvising. I had to think of something quick to tell him. “I can get you out of here if you assure me that you know the Pearl River Delta well.”

*** We walked out of the factory. There was a man guarding the entrance. He let us pass without questioning. The hair on my arm stood up when the guard glared at me. The port was a short way from the factory. We grabbed a motor bike parked just outside the factory. Luckily, the keys were still in the bike. We were not going to port without unwanted company. We skidded to a stop at the jetty. Without sparing a second, we jumped into a dingy boat. Just as we got in, we ducked down in the boat and hid under a tarp that was lying in the boat. There were people in the port and they were searching for something using powerful flashlights. All I hoped was that it wasn’t us they were looking for. The light swung over us a few times. I could see the light through the tarp. The lights soon went away and the voices dwindled. We still stayed under for a few minutes before scrambling out. I turned on the engine while Lee took the wheel. “Where are we heading?” “Jiangmen. Do you know any shortcuts?” “No, but I can make it quick.” We had barely moved when we heard a few more shouts behind us and an engine. We were being pursued. Lee increased the speed. After half an hour, the other men were out of sight, however our relief was short lived. The engine suddenly stopped. After a minute of confusion, Lee noticed that the fuel had run out. We could do nothing but wait. The other boat pulled up beside ours. A man lunged towards us, however, I could push him away. I did not know where this sudden rush of courage some from, but I certainly wasn’t going to stop. The other man on the adjacent boat tried to pull out gun on us, however, Lee threw the tarp on him before he could do so. We jumped into the other boat and threw the man overboard. It was an exhausting night. That was all I remember before I fell into a deep slumber.

Fiction: Group 3

The first thing I saw when I woke up was the ceiling in my bedroom. I was back at home. There were police along with Lee and my nanny. Lee had told the police about all the details of the illegal activity and we were soon on newspapers all over China. This incident helped me discover something about my nanny. She actually went through the trouble of calling the police to find me. After this incident, my delinquent acts ceased and my tiny family got along. All it took was a mishap and a night in the Pearl River Delta.

Fiction: Group 3

An Old Man's Life Diocesan Boys' School (Secondary Division), So, Justin - 12, Fiction: Group 3

his had been one of the coldest winters Hong Kong had seen for a long time. On Christmas Day afternoon, an old man with a crooked back was standing alone on a deserted street. Only one shop was opened: the Cha Chaan Teng located on the corner. The old man shivered in the cold,

wrapped his arms around himself, and entered the tea restaurant. The old man sat down at an empty booth. Usually buzzing with activity and customers chatting noisily, the Cha Chaan Teng was very quiet that day. Most of the seats were unoccupied, with only a few people in the restaurant. The waiters were leaning against the bar counter, with not much work to do. The oldest waiter, the one with whom the old man was friends, walked towards his table. Whipping a pen from his ear and taking out a notepad from the chest pocket of his short-sleeved white shirt, the waiter asked with a slow smile, “The usual?” Strangely, along with his smile came a hint of melancholy. The old man returned the smile and placed his veined hands on the cool glass surface of the table. “The usual.” The waiter nodded and walked back to the counter, where a lot of “Black & White” cups were piled - the traditional Cha Chaan Teng cups used for milk tea or coffee. Some cardboard boxes filled with cutlery were lined up at the back, whereas some of the labels stuck to the wall, listing out signature dishes, had already been taken off. After five minutes or so, the waiter came back with a steaming cup of yuanyang and a golden brown pineapple bun, a slab of butter peeking out from the centre. “Is the restaurant moving to another location or getting renovated?” The old man inquired. He would miss the look of the eatery- the ceiling fans revolving slowly above his head, the glass table tops with the menus sealed under them and the square linoleum floor tiles under his feet. “I am sorry, but the restaurant will be closing down tomorrow. Today is really the last day we are open to diners. The increasing rental costs forced our boss into shutting down the business. Please enjoy your last meal here.” The waiter gave the old man a hearty slap on the back- a gesture that seemed to speak a thousand words - and retreated to tidy up the kitchen. The old man stared down at his freshly baked pineapple bun in shock. Then he looked at the ragged teen sitting sullenly at the table next to him. I was twelve when I came to Hong Kong with my parents from Mainland China, from a small village along the Pearl River. We smuggled ourselves into Hong Kong territory by swimming for three days. We were completely exhausted and dripping from head to toe. Having finally settled down at the home of a friend of Father’s, Mother gave me a few coins and told me to get some food. I found a Cha Chaan Teng just a rock’s throw away, completely unaware that it was a culinary landmark of Hong Kong, and ordered the cheapest item on the menu - the pineapple bun. I was quite curious about how it would taste, and the unassuming little bun exceeded all my expectations. The bun itself was crunchy and tender, but it was the slab of butter that really was the creamy highlight of the snack. At that moment, with my stomach finally full after days of gnawing hunger, I thought this had to be what Heaven tasted like. That was sixty years ago. And to think I can never order this bun again from this place, or come back for afternoon tea. This had really been a second home. The old man glanced at the father and son a few tables from him. The father was sipping his milk tea slowly while watching his son devour a huge plate of curry. The son burped after almost licking his hand clean - but out of nowhere the waiter presented a piece of glistening Hong Kong style French toast with a flourish. The old man held back a chuckle as the boy exclaimed in greedy excitement. I was eighteen, having just received my HKCEE results that morning. Father brought me to this Cha Chaan Teng to reward me for my excellent grades. He let me order whatever I wanted. I decided on the sumptuous beef brisket curry along with the delicious French toast. The ingenious use of exotic spices paired with beef brisket braised to perfect tenderness was unforgettable. I realized I had discovered my favourite dish despite panting for a glass of water due to the aggressive chili - but that moment was all the more memorable because of Father’s proud gaze as I devoured the meal.

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Fiction: Group 3

As for the French toast, it was a sweet finish: the lovely golden-brown colour of the bread was enticing enough, but the sticky syrup was what made my day. It glued my teeth together as soon as I sank into the bread, and Father smirked at my messy efforts. This must have been one of the best meals of my life. The old man finished the last piece of his pineapple bun and licked his buttery fingers. A soft voice from the far corner of the Cha Chaan Teng distracted him from the important task of finishing up the crumbs, “Waiter, can I have a toothpick please?” The old man peeked at the woman who had just spoken. The young lady had a head of straight black hair and kind eyes. He paused, lost in his memories. Forty years ago, he had met a young lady here who looked just like this young customer, and she had completely changed his life. I was thirty when I met the love of my life, by chance. I was in a foul mood that day, having just been fired from my job for a trivial mistake. Wandering aimlessly on the streets, I walked into this Cha Chaan Teng. I flounced into a booth in a huff, only to leap up at the sight of the angel next to me. She looked like an angel - literally. She was wearing a pretty white dress, with black hair like silk tumbling down her back. It was love at first sight. She blinked shyly at me, and I fell over myself apologizing. It was the start of everything. One evening three months later, after several romantic dates, I took her back to the same Cha Chaan Teng. I proposed to her after dinner, right next to the counter, which had been decorated with red roses at my special request. I got on one knee, and handed her the plate of heart-shaped egg tarts the chef had specially prepared. I was dumb with happiness when she said yes. Smiling at this thought and at his silliness for presenting egg tarts instead of a wedding ring, the old man picked up his cup of yuanyang, and drank half of it in a single gulp. At the door, the family cheerily bade goodbye to the waiters, plastic bags of takeaway swinging from their arms. He licked his lips, savouring the unique taste of his drink-of-choice. “What’s yuanyang, Daddy?” My son asked. My daughter was beside him, looking up at me with her beautiful big eyes, curious about the drink I had ordered. This was the first time my wife and I had brought the children along with us to our special Cha Chaan Teng for lunch. The kids were not too excited about the prospect until my yuanyang arrived at our table. They liked the taste of tea and had had sips of coffee, but not once had they thought of mixing the two seemingly very different beverages together. To them, this idea was completely bizarre. “You can have a taste,” I answered, passing him the cup. He drank some, then downed the whole lot. “Yummy!” my son pronounced cheekily. My little girl was cross with her brother. “You didn’t even leave me a mouthful!” she complained. My wife burst out laughing, and ordered two more yuanyangs, one for each of the kids. It became their favourite drink - just like it had always been mine. The old man finished his drink, and stared down at the old teacup. Fully conscious that he had just had his last meal in this Cha Chaan Teng, he walked to the counter to pay. “That will be eighteen dollars, mister,” the cashier informed him. The old man handed him a twenty-dollar bill, and left the restaurant for the last time. He stared at the signboard hung above the doors of the Cha Chaan Teng. My life in Hong Kong started here. Does it all have to end now? Where will I go from here? “Goodbye, my old friend,” the old man gave it one last look, turned, and made his way home.

Fiction: Group 3

An Unwanted Honour Discovery College , Anderson, Jennifer - 12, Fiction: Group 3

un for your lives! ” Kang shouted. “The Pearl River is flooding! Everyone to your homes!” It was too late. Xue had been sitting on the shore when he was engulfed by a huge wave from the river.

“Help!” He cried. Xue felt something pulling him towards the shore. It was Zhong! Zhong had bitten the back of

Xue’s shirt and pulled him from the water. Dripping, they ran to the fortune teller’s red house with its 8 stone dragons guarding the roof. The house had a chipped fence that he and Zhong could climb. Xue let Zhong run in front of him, making sure he didn’t fall. They reached the roof, exhausted. Xue patted Zhong’s head. It was raining, but Xue and Zhong didn’t mind. They lay, staring at the stormy sky, while the villages ran back to their homes, trying to escape the flood of the Pearl River. Zhong was Xue’s best friend. He never argued, but always followed Xue. Xue had been left on a wealthy family’s doorstep as a baby. They had called him Xue, because his skin was naturally white as snow. The family took care of him, but when their own children were born, they neglected him, so Xue ran away. At the age of 14, Xue had found Zhong as a puppy, abandoned by an animal trader, because he was a runt. Xue took care of him, and after a few years, Zhong grew up to be a strong and loyal dog. That was what his name meant. Loyalty. Slowly, the exhausted duo fell asleep. “Is he alive?” Xue woke to a man’s hand poking his face. He had been carried off the roof and laid on the dusty village floor. “I’m alive! Stop poking me!” “Why were you on Sang’s roof? Why was there a dog with you? Who are you?” The man’s face started turning red. “Did you steal anything?” “Stop it Kang! Can’t you see he’s scared?” There was a young woman beside him. ”I didn’t steal anything!” “Be quiet. They are coming... ” The fortune teller was standing in the corner. His eyes clouded. He started talking in a scratchy, deep voice. “As the river of pearl storms the banks, Mortals shall distress, But there is no fear because, A flurry of snow and loyalty, Will prevail the pearl storm, And fight fire with fire ” He collapsed. “Father! Are you all right?” the woman crouched down. Kang looked at Xue. “What is your name?” “Xue” “Xue as in snow?” “Yes...” Kang exchanged glances with the woman. “Li Hua, he’s...” “What am I? ” He thought for a minute. It made sense. Zhong whimpered. “No. You people are insane! I don’t save people!” Xue sprinted away. Zhong followed. Li Hua stared at her father’s sleeping face. “What are we going to do?” Xue had run to the expanding Pearl River. The villagers had started calling it the Pearl Sea, for it really was flooding as big as a lake now. He walked along the shore. Zhong bolted in front of him, and stopped, then started to dig. When Xue caught up to him, he had unearthed an oyster shell. Xue knelt down and opened the shell. There was a huge pearl, the size of his fist. Carefully, he held the oyster shell without touching the pearl; he followed Zhong to the riverbank. Zhong jumped around in the water, and

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Fiction: Group 3

he seemed to want Xue to get in the water. Then he yelped. Xue checked his paws. There was a bloody gash where a tile from the village that had fallen in the water. “Curse the river!” Xue swore. If there was one thing he cared more about than himself, it was Zhong. Zhong nosed the oyster shell. Xue opened it again to throw the pearl in the river. “Stop!” He turned his head. It was the fortuneteller. “Don’t touch it!” It was too late. Xue and Zhong had touched the pearl at the same time. It started shining, as bright as the sun, and everything went white. Clutching the pearl, Xue looked around. He and Zhong seemed to be standing on clouds. In front of him, a hole appeared in the clouds. He could see the Pearl River, and the fortuneteller at the river. Where he and Zhong had been standing minutes before was a shining white light. It seemed to be vaporizing the Pearl River. Slowly, the flooded river was receding. The hole in the clouds disappeared. A woman appeared in front of Xue. “Greetings, young one. I am Lo Shen, goddess of rivers. You have been rewarded, , for your life of hardships. You shall be the pearl, forever more. You shall rule under my guidance. But don’t worry, loyalty, will also forever be at your side.” Xue and Zhong were back on earth. Well, more like, on water. They had been transformed. He was wearing rich, expensive robes. They were a deep blue, with fish, waves, gems, and storms embroidered on them. He had a staff in one hand. It had the same pearl in it that Zhong had found on the beach; instead it was a brilliant dark blue. Xue felt taller, cleaner and stronger. Zhong was next to him. His fur shone like it had been washed every day for years, and he wasn’t limping, with his wound healed. Xue realized that they were glowing. A soft golden glow outlined their bodies. They were standing on a huge wave, which was solid under their feet. The villagers were all at the bank of the river. They were cheering, every single one of them. The Pearl River had been shrunk to its normal size again. That was what the prophecy meant. Xue had fought the Pearl River with a pearl. Lo Shen appeared again. “Greetings again. I name you, the Xue Shui, God of The Pearl River. Your faithful friend shall forever be Zhong, the dog god of loyalty. You two shall, for the rest of time, control the Pearl River.” And the wave disappeared, and Xue Shui and Zhong fell into the river, never, to live on land again. I guess we will never know if they were happy with their destiny. Who knows, Xue Shui’s vengeance may be flooding the river again, to show that he was not happy. But I know one thing. They are angry with the gods, as all Zhong and Xue wanted was a simple, happy life with a family. Zhong is still as loyal as can be, chasing fish, creating storms, but they are only happy together. What we have done, polluting the river and building factories have only made them even angrier. They are waiting for their vengeance on the gods. Be aware my friends, the Pearl River Delta!

Fiction: Group 3

The Wizard of the Pearl River Delta Discovery College (Primary), Seo, Justin - 11, Fiction: Group 3

mos watched as the small fire resting on the sticks grew tinier. Eventually it slowly turned into black ash. His father sank down and heaved another sigh. Lighting a fire was one of the biggest problems in Emeraldwood, since they had no lighter to create it.

Back in 1973, there in Guangzhou sat a small village called Emeraldwood. Emeraldwood, since it had only a few huts there, was one of the poorest villages in Guangzhou, and it was placed at the top point of the Pearl River Delta. In one of the huts set at the edge of the river lived a four year old boy called Amos and his young father. His father worked in a toy factory not very far from their village. He would set off to the factory at sunrise, and return home at late night. However, Amos’s hardworking father always returned from work with only a few coins resting in his worn pocket. Not only was his father working keenly, but young Amos had to work in the field, harvesting the crops. But nor Amos received at least a handful of coins a day. Amos and his father were outside their hut, trying to make a fire to protect themselves from the cold stark wind. Amos stared at the ash, and concentrated on thinking about an enormous fire appearing on the pile of sticks. Grow, he thought, grow. Suddenly, there was a speck of orange, then a prodigious fire leapt up into the air. The father jumped back in astonishment, but the little boy stood gazing up at the fire in amazement. “Father!” he managed to splutter out. “In my head, I told the fire to grow, and now look!” Now Amos’s father turned his eyes onto his son. He stared at him for about a minute, then he took Amos onto their carriage and rode out of the village to the city, where the wise old man lived in a small tent. Amos’s father dragged the boy into the front of the wise man, and explained to him about how his son had lightened the fire with his mind. The old man nodded slowly, looked carefully at Amos, and finally replied, “Kid, you are a wizard. You have the ability to make anything happen through your mind. But remember, use your power well.” The news that Amos was a wizard spread through the whole village like fire. Every person who heard about it would have their mouths hung open. At first, it was all quiet. But then after a few days, men and women would rush to Amos and beg him to grow their crops or make a fire using his amazing powers. Of course, loyal Amos accepted everything. In a few weeks, Emeraldwood had become a well-living village. Eleven years passed, and now Amos was a fifteen year old boy. He no longer needed his father to accompany him all the time, so every day he would hike up mountains or even visit other villages alone. He still supported Emeraldwood with his magical powers, but he wanted to do something big, something that would make a change to Guangzhou. Then it was one day. One of the villages in the middle of the Pearl River Delta was completely silent, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Almost all the huts had no people living in it, abandoned. Confused, Amos approached a young man pushing a wheelbarrow, and questioned, “Sir, why is there so less people living in this village?” The man sighed heavily. “I have only heard that an enormous serpent, with knife-like, acute teeth, deadly black scales, and a prodigious length, is lurking around right there, in the middle of this river. You just stare right into those blood red eyes of this monster, and you are stone, then in no longer than a minute, the stone will shatter. The serpent has killed almost all the villagers here! No one would risk slaying that monster! Its teeth are poison! Don’t even think about going and killing it! It is way too risky for you!” However, Amos did not listen to the man’s last few words. He had just seen, with his incredible eyesight, a glimpse of a black, scaly tail, slowly disappearing into the blue water over in the distance. His heart started to smash against his chest. “It is there.” he whispered to the man. “I am a wizard. A wizard can handle this.” Once Amos came back to his village, he hauled a small rowboat from the water and started adding touches of magic to it through his mind. For weeks and weeks, he would not slump back to his hut, but fixing the rowboat. Amos needed a suitable boat for him to ride to the center of the river, where the serpent skulked. Finally Amos completed his rowboat and was ready to slay the serpent. On top of his patched clothes, he wore the long, emerald robe that his father had let him borrow especially for this journey. He held a sword

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Fiction: Group 3

at his side to use it to stab the serpent. All the villagers crowded around the edge of the pier and watched the boy step into his boat and row off. They cheered and shouted his name until the rowboat had disappeared into the distance. Far off in the distance, a sinful voice was whispering, “Stone, stone.” The rowboat bobbed up and down as waves gnawed at the sides of the boat. Amos’s hair slashed against his face as the wind zoomed past him. Nothing distracted the little boy. His eyes stayed alert and attentive, searching around madly for any sign of a black, scaly tail jutting out of the water. However, a fog seemed to close around him, and become thicker and thicker the further he went. In the end, he was only able to see himself and the rowboat moving slowly along the water. Then just at that moment, there was a movement so sudden that almost scared Amos half to death. Something pitch black had protruded out of the water and back into it, making a huge splashing noise. Amos stared at where ripples were spreading, with his two, brown eyes smoldering with fear and attentiveness. Suddenly, his rowboat was jerked off the water into the air, ascended towards the water, then smashed into the water. Something had hit right on the bottom of the rowboat. Now the young wizard was sinking, thinking that he had lost hope, when he remembered… Up, he thought, up I go. Suddenly, in less than a second, he was zooming upwards, out of the water, and back into his rowboat, soggy from head to toe. Then he raised his head to look at the black, scaly, deadly body of the serpent. He shut his eyes as tightly as he could. The monster was right there. He was waving his hands about blindly for his sword when he heard a shrill, sinful voice whispering, “Kill, kill the darn wizard. Stone, stone.” “No you shall not!” screamed Amos. He could smell the bloody, fishy smell of the serpent’s breath. “I will put the daylights out of your eyes, you darn thing!” Then still closing his eyes, he swung the sword at where the voice was coming from. But the sword just slashed at thin air. “Kill!” screeched the serpent, with his evil face almost touching Amos’s. Amos raised his sword at lunged it. There was a loud squelching noise and a earsplitting scream from the serpent as the sword plunged into its left eye. Amos opened his eyes, and almost at the same time pulled out the bloody sword then thrusted it at the other eye. The serpent bellowed in pain and waved his head about. Amos, who had opened his eyes at last, had never seen anything so vicious and frightening. The serpent’s scales, now splattered with blood, were so black that it stood out in the thick fog. Its eyes were no longer there, blood pouring from it down into the water, making large, red, blotches. Now no matter Amos looked into its face, he was safe. The serpent was blind. Now he will finish it off. He was just raising his sword when he felt something jab into his right shoulder and make him howl in pain. The monster had pierced his poisonous fangs into Amos. Then Amos quickly hurled the sword at the serpent’s neck. The serpent leapt back from him, gave an earsplitting shriek, then descended into the water. Amos lay in his rowboat, motionless. He had killed the serpent. But the pain was spreading from his shoulder. Amos lay there, his breathing shallow, when suddenly everything went pitch black, and he passed away. On the edge of this river stood a statue of a fifteen year old boy, with a few words carved under it: “The wizard of the Pearl River Delta”.

Fiction: Group 3

Into the Dragon's Mouth Discovery College (Primary), Swedenklef, Julia - 11, Fiction: Group 3

uddenly everything starts to shake, as the engine rumbles to life. I hold on to the side of the boat with a grip that could kill, as my mother starts the boat up. Not many people know this about me, but I really despise boats, for many reasons, one being I was stranded on a lifeboat for days after the South

Korean ferry sank. But somehow my parents got me on this boat, to go up to the Pearl River Delta to go do some trading, they said that "it will be good for me". Bang! The boat leant to one side and a giant crack forms in the bottom of the boat, I think we just hit a rock. Another bang comes, but this time it sounded more like something just hit 'us'. Although my feet feel like they are cemented to the floor, I manage to pick one foot up at a time and go find my parents, they'll know what to do. After looking absolutely everywhere around on the boat, I start to panic even more. The boat is still going full speed ahead, with no one at the wheel. I am no longer just panicked, I am terrified! I hear faint screams in the distance. Only to realize that those screams are coming from my drowning parents. I have no other choice, but to figure out how to turn the boat around and pick up my parents. I manage to slow down the boat, turn it around and park it next to them, by pressing a series of random buttons and hoping for the best. I let down a rope for my mom and dad to climb up, and then I pulled them onboard, and laid them down on the floor. After my parents recovered from being in the water, we came up with a plan to repair the boat. Basically, I would climb back into the water and use fabric from the boat interior to push into the cracks. This sounds simple right, but of course waves, cold stiff fingers and sharp barnacles made the process almost unbearable. Somehow I finished the task and I hope I will never have to do it again. Now we could get back to motoring towards our destination. We were headed for a city called Pearl River Delta. The city was a dirty place. There is rat poop on the street and drunken people everywhere, let's just say it's not a place where children like me, should be left alone in. It was a long hard journey, or at least it felt like one, but we finally made it. It took us 2 days with the minor setback, but now we are here, and so are our twenty-five different varieties of vegetables, which we will trade for supplies. I clambered off the boat and stepped on the dock where we parked, and a family of rats greeted us, the air was hazy and strangely quiet as we walked down the dock, no one was walking on the streets and all the doors are bolted shut, even the fish ball stall that we always go to isn't there. We walk a couple more meters down the empty street, and we come across and old blind man sitting on a bench in the corner. We come to him and ask why nobody is wandering the streets, and he tells us a strange story about many people getting a fortune on a Kau Cim about the great water dragon, LongWei, coming and swallowing the entire city whole. Strange. With everyone cowering in their homes, there is no one to trade with. So our vegetables will just have to wait until this whole city-eating dragon thing has blown over, or at least that's what my parents say, personally, I think we go find out what's really happening around here. To find out what happening I will have to do some investigating, alone. So while my parents are arranging the vegetables for the fourth time today, I sneak away to the river to try to find some clues about this whole dragon thing. I arrive on the dock and it suddenly just starts rocking violently, I quickly lay down and grip the edge of the dock. As soon as it stops I look into the water to see what caused the shaking and I see a giant golden

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Fiction: Group 3

snake-like figure that looks sort of sad, not what you would expect a terrorizing dragon to look like. For a second I saw directly into his eyes, and he had the some look on his face as my parents had when our food supply was desperately low. I start to head back to where I left my parents, but when I got there, no one was even remotely near the area. I figured they must have gone looking for me. But what I did notice, was that they left their vegetables, this opportunity was too good to pass up, so, I grabbed as much as my arms could carry and ran back to the spot where I last saw the dragon. He wasn't there but somehow i'm sure he will get them. I dropped the vegetable in the water and sat and waited for about an hour until I saw the surface of the water break into tiny droplets covering me from head to toe. Out comes this beautiful silky golden dragon, eating my offering feverishly. When he finished eating the food in his mouth, he started to talk! he started to tell me about a blind property developer who wants to take over the entire city of Pearl River Delta and make it into a giant incinerator site. The property developer was trying to convince the city that the dragon was going to eat Pearl River Delta and that the townspeople needed to evacuate. When the people refused he took away the dragons food source so that he would be forced to go to the city for food. The dragon told me that it was him knocking on our boat and shaking the dock, and he was just trying to get our attention, so he could warn us. Before he finished, I picked up my stuff and ran. Not because the dragon scared me, but because I needed to warn my parents about the blind man that we saw on the bench. After looking for my parents desperately, I literally ran into my parents. I just started blabbering on and on about what the dragon told me, naturally when I told my parents this, they thought I was making it up because even I wouldn't believe me. I don't know how but I finally got through to them, they only half believe me, but hopefully that will be enough to put the evil man behind bars. We go to the bench in the corner to find him because so far my luck has been good with that, and sure enough he was there. We confronted him, and obviously he denied, then I told him how I figured it all out, and like an idiot he ran. Running did nothing for his case, one being that now we know he is not blind because he avoided obstacles very well and two, the poor man was headed straight for the edge of the water where the dragon is waiting patiently. I don't even want to know what his plan was. The poor old man took a running leap into the dragon's mouth, and that was the end of him. No one saw my family's act of heroics today because they were in their home all locked up in their homes, but the dragon will always remember the day we defeated a criminal together.

Fiction: Group 3

The River Discovery College (Primary), Toor, Perlei - 13, Fiction: Group 3

he river flows continuously with the seconds, changing, forming, observing, and crying out with the rushes that meet each other for the millionth, yet very first time. I slide my foot in the edge of the river, just my toes playfully greeting the cold water. The water picks up the touch, smell, and

sight of my toes and brings it to wherever the river takes it, so that when another person walks upon this river, we will be silently joined, only the river knowing the secrets of both.

Today I thought I was coming to the same river where my mother drowned, to step in the same soil she took her last step, to feel the same water rushing over me, and the same trees coddling me with shade. I had been scared to see everything again, afraid all the memories would come back flooding over me, swallowing me in pain and fear.

I was wrong.

Nothing is the same. Everything changed, and time took my mother with her. The way she used to smell like the warm sun on grass in the morning. How she used to stroke my hand until I left my troubles in my sleep, leaving her behind in the mess of the day. The way she used to kiss me goodnight, and tell me that she’d take care of me, then turning around, walking back to our harassment. The bruises she would try to hide from me, just like she hid her worries. How she would tell me stories about what it would be like once we were safe, and father was removed from out lives. How she used to tell me how her parents married her off, and how she fought to be with her true love, her voice quivering with dejection. The river took it all as she fell deeper, surrendering to the depths of the water.

She came to my bed one night, bent down, stroked my face and told me we needed to run now, while we could. We darted of as fast as we could; the dead branches hurting as they stroked out bruises and cuts. A sudden noise startled us, and we turned to find father was suddenly behind us, a sinister smile on his vile face. We were so close to freedom, our feet already touching the river, and all we had to do was cross.

I step further into the river, the water now up to my chest. It circles around me, and I breathe in the ever-changing air one last time, conforming to the water that took my mother, and I sink into the rapidly flowing river. The water that carried my mother is now carrying me, as I hold my breath. It drags me through the path my mother took, and the river changes for me one last time. I finally become the river.

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New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Elsa High School, Dahlberg, Tyra - 13, Fiction: Group 3

he Pearl River delta is a river that goes through a lot of major cities Guangzhou, Macau, Jiang men and several more. Three major rivers the Xi Jiang, Bei jiang and Dong Jiang, form it.

When I learnt this in school I was super excited I am a huge fan of travelling and this information really attracted me and made me realize how much I wanted to travel on this river and see the cities that the river passes through. Being the adventurer that I am I realized that I really wanted to see this river and the places that it goes through and that this was not going to be opportunity that I was going to miss. I went online and booked the first best flight. A few weeks later I was ready to go I had looked up all the information that I needed to know, What I was going to wear, what the weather was going to be like, and what equipment I needed to fully enjoy the trip. The next day I went on my usual morning stroll walked through the park and by the ocean. I was really going to miss everyone but I knew that going on this trip was going to benefit me in several ways. I went pack home, double-checked that I had everything and then I took my car and started driving towards the airport to go to Hong Kong to start my journey. The next day I landed. Hong Kong is such a beautiful city that I barely ever wanted to leave it. I stayed in a small hotel in the middle of Wan Chai. I wanted to go to all the major places in Hong Kong so that I would feel satisfied with myself after the journey. The next day I took the MTR and got of in Causeway bay I went around and had a look, I then went to a small Chinese noodle shop located on the side of Causeway bay almost in Wan Chai. These noodles were nothing like I had ever tasted in America they tasted so much better now I realized why so many people had talked about the local Hong Kong food. When I went back home I noticed how safe I had been in my travels I wanted to see more exciting things that dated back many years so that I would really understand what Hong Kong is all about. I ran down to the office of the hotel and asked them about all the places that I should visit to understand more about the culture of Hong Kong. They told me that I needed to make sure to visit the Big Buddha, Lantau Island and Lamma Island. I thought that it would be really cool to visit these places so I stayed in Hong Kong for three more days to go and explore these places. So this is what I did during the first week of my trip. It was one of the most memorable moments Hong Kong is really a beautiful city and I would love to go back someday to see more. My next stop of my journey was Macau I thought since this was very close to Hong Kong I would go there. Now that I had stayed in Hong Kong for 5 days I thought it was time to go to the next place, Macau. I grabbed a taxi and went to the star ferry so that I could take the fast ferry over to Macau. Macau lies on the western side of the Pearl River Delta across from Hong Kong, It is definitely a fun place to visit. I took a taxi to the main part of Macau and checked in on a hotel that I had previously booked. I fell asleep directly, I guess I was just really tired from all travelling that I had done In the past few days however it was all worth it cause I had already seen things that I never thought I would see in my life everything that I had seen so far was truly beautiful. On my first day in Macau I went to the historic temple of Macau, I then the next day went to Macau Museum, on my last day in Macau I went to a temple called Kun Lam temple. I woke up at 6;00 am the next morning so that I would have time to go down and eat breakfast before a cab wad going to come and pick me up. I slowly dragged myself out of bed, took a shower, went down to eat breakfast and then I was ready to leave Macau for my next destination, Foshan this was my second to the last place I was going to travel to so I knew that I had to make the best out of my time there. I went to the airport and the next I know I am on the airplane on my way to China. The trip felt like it took 5 minutes all of I sudden I was in the very talked about country of China! I travelled by bus to Foshan. I chose to go to Foshan because of the history. I had heard a lot about the history and how it had existed through tons of dynasties; hence I thought that this place would be very interesting to visit. On my first day I decided to go visit the Xiqiao Mountain, which is one of the top four most famous mountains In the Guangdong Province. The altitude of the mountain is approximately 300 meters and he main peak is only about 340 meters so that is not a lot compared to some of the other mountains I have visited but it was still

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definitely worth a visit cause when I got to the top I was almost speechless I saw over the whole of Foshan and it really made me realize why I went on this trip in the first place. On the second day and also the last day I decided to go visit the Ancestors Temple, a temple that was built in the Northern Song dynasty and was mainly a place where sacrifices to g-d occurred. This temple was very interesting and really stood out. That night when I went to bed I realized that my trip was coming to an end, I only had one more place to go to and then all of this was over, no more travelling. I would suddenly have to return back to school and start studying again. This was going to be very hard for me cause I had gotten really attached to China and its culture. I slowly but surely drifted off to sleep and waited for the new day that was coming. That morning I didn’t really know what place I was going to go to I was not really the person that would plan ahead when travelling or doing anything really. In the end however I decided to go to Huizhou. I had heard a lot of good things so it was time for me to say goodbye to Foshan and start my last journey in China this time. I only had two days to explore this place so as fast as I got there I started researching to find places that would be worth visiting. On the first day I decided to visit an island called the Flower Island, when I got there I did truly understand why it was called this. It was full of colourful flowers and green plants. It was a memorizing and overall beautiful sight and was definitely one of the key moments of my trip. I explored the island for a few hours and had some lunch before I noticed how fast the time had flew by and that it was time to pack up and go back to the hotel. I packed my things so that I was fully prepared for the last day of my trip and so that I could make sure that this was going to be a fun last day in Huizhou and in China in general. On my last day I went to visit the west lake, I had packed some lunch which consisted of sandwiches and some apple juice so that I wouldn’t go hungry while walking. I wanted to really enjoy the day so that’s why I felt the need to bring lunch because I didn’t want to miss a moment of this day after all I was not going to see this place or country again in a while. As I walked by the west lake I thought of my memories throughout the trip it had been such a wonderful time of my life just being here in China and feeling free for the first time. That I when I noticed that I didn’t just want this to be a one time thing I wanted to travel more I finally understood what people meant when they said travelling changes you for the better.

Fiction: Group 3

Tales of the Pearl River Delta Elsa High School, Davidson, Tami - 14, Fiction: Group 3

pril 5th, 1994, 5:32 AM, I woke up this morning to news of a 10$ coin in Hong Kong, which really is quite irrelevant to me, considering I live in Guangzhou, yet I felt the need to wake up this early to just hear about it.

The weather today is nice. It’s been better. However, I still go on my walk and still see the man. The weird man sitting on the step of that building the kids around here seem to think is haunted. I don’t blame them really. I suppose it would be much easier and faster to go the other way past the school but everything has become so busy these days. So loud and so humid it’s almost suffocating. On a regular day he wouldn’t even look up from his empty bottle of Tsingtao. But today was not a regular day. And somehow I knew it before I even walked out the door. April 5th, 1994, 7:00 AM, I walked past the weird man sitting on the step and I sat down next to him. Looking back at it now I’m not really sure why I did it in the first place. But once I had sat down I politely said hello, but the man didn’t look up. I tried tapping him, standing in front of him, waving. Nothing. After a while I gave up trying and just sat down. Looking out into the distance I noticed how little I knew about anything here really. But what really stood out to me was the river. The river which I had seen every day the whole time I had lived here but never had I ever decided to do some research of any sort. So, I asked the man about the river. He looked up as soon as I said “Pearl River”. A smile materialized on his usually blank face. I saw him happy for the first time that day. He chuckled to himself a little bit and then looked me deeply in the eyes and told me of a legend. The legend was about a gigantic stone island located where the river flowed through Guangzhou. Years ago the island gradually eroded over time by the crash of the water. As the island eroded it became as smooth as silk and shaped like a pearl. He looked back down at his bottle, smiled, stood up and walked away. As he walked away, I stood up to follow him and fell unconscious. That was the last day I lived in oblivion. May 5th, 1995, 6:34 PM, It’s been almost a year now, since the day he told me about this island. He said it was just a legend. Funny looking back on that moment now, thinking this island would be a place where all good things happen. Some kind of paradise. Turns out it’s a place that's slowly dying and bringing me with it. Every day, the island gets hit by these ruthless waves. Every day, the is slowly eaten up by the greedy waters which surround it. My home is disappearing. Everyday being here, I see thousands of boats sailing past. Filled with boxes and people. The water is getting dirtier and more polluted everyday with all these boats going past. Dropping their waste and their garbage, like the sea is a dump. It hurts, seeing all of this happen slowly. But the worst part is that there is absolutely nothing I can do to prevent it from happening. September 11th, 2001 Seven years now. Seven years alone. Stranded. The pollution has only gotten worse. The boats bigger, and the people in them nastier. More waste is being thrown off these boats every second. When I got here the animals in the sea were healthy. They swam around with no care in the world. The water was clean and there were less boats travelling from city to city. Now, this place is slowly becoming more and more contaminated with trash ranging from cans to plastic bags. As the sea gets dirtier the waves get harsher and the island gets smaller. If this continues, I’ll have nowhere to go. The island is the source of all my food and shelter. It is what has kept me sane. February 15th, 2005 I have finally devised a plan to get off this island. I have gathered enough resources to build the boat that will get me out of here. The island has been getting worse lately, abused by the sea and trash which surrounds it. Now, more than ever, I need to find a way back.

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December 25th, 2005 2:34 PM The boat is built. I am currently gathering food for my journey and hopefully will be off later tonight. I must admit I am proud of myself to have made it this far. To survive on this island alone with no help. Looking back to when I lived in Guangzhou I know I could have never been able to survive even just one night on a camping trip. The island has taught me how to adapt. How to discard all the materialistic goods which were so important to me in my former life. Despite its flaws, my experience in this secluded world has taught me so much. December 25th, 2005 7:48 PM The boat is ready. Before I leave I almost feel like I am going to miss this place. It has been my home for the past 11 years and has kept me safe from the dangers of the outside world. Nevertheless, I know it’s the right thing to do. I need to go back to Guangzhou and raise awareness about the horrible way people are treating our beautiful river. I need to change this for our future. I am ready. February 9th, 2006 I have just arrived back in Guangzhou. However, the tough journey has prevented me from writing in my journal earlier. Every night I would wake up to the roar of a new rainstorm, and in the morning would freeze from the howling winds. After the first month I also realized I had not brought enough food and that the water was too dirty to fish in. Being back is weird. Everyone has grown up. The kids I used to see running around that old house are gone. They have all grown up and are working hard. They probably long for the days where they could relax and be scared of a stupid old house. As for the old man? He’s gone too, consumed by the hands of time. February 15th, 2006 Looking back on my days on the island, I remember the people throwing waste into the river as I sat there helplessly. Invisible. Seeing all those poor animals suffering because of the destructive and careless nature of my society. I need to make a change. That is what I’m here to do. March 18th, 2006

It has only been a little more than a month but I have managed to speak to a couple of people who will partner up with me to help clean the river. I have campaign managers who will help me advertise and reach out to more people that live their lives like I used to, oblivious to the beauty that we are destroying. I have people helping me with charity fairs to raise money. And I have people who are planning trips for me to go to schools and speak about this growing problem that is happening all around them. My goal for this project is to get the younger generation involved and to make them passionate and committed to solving this devastating problem.

Fiction: Group 3

The Pearl River Delta Elsa High School, Effron, Louis - 13, Fiction: Group 3

stared out the window. Looking out at the vast variety of sailboats on the dock, wishing I would one day get the chance to sail out on one myself. Simply the idea of getting out of Maine and exploring the world was a mere dream, and in that dream I had one partner, Lorraine Garnet Ryer. God was she

beautiful; she would appear too most as pure as the clear, ocean water under the freshly polished docks down by the bay. I had always loved her, the girl next-door, knowing she would never love me as more than a friend. Lorraine had always had a craving for adventure, knowing it would only lead to danger and sacrifice. We shared a tale, her and I, a tale of great meaning, a tale with no ending. It sounds impossible, but I can assure you it’s not. It all started on January 15th 2010. It was musky, with a few light beams gleaming through the thick clouds, empowering the sky and causing a tint of grey to cast over Stantonville. Lorraine came over that morning at precisely a quarter to six, while I was waiting until my shift at the grocery store would start. “Oliver Sahlman, might I say good morning to you and to all other 17 year old people who feel the need to force themselves up on a Sunday morning for meagre college credit.” There was an awkward pause. I slowly looked up at her after being disturbed from my reading. I said, “Wow, nice to know you’re supportive when it comes to others tackling new experiences. You should consider ‘doing’ sometime, rather than criticizing others who do.” I paused. “Regardless, I would like to ask you to accompany me to work.” Lorraine looked at me, raising one eyebrow. “Sure. Why not.” I deadpanned her for what seemed like little to no time before we both ended up bursting out with laughter. We arrived at the only grocery store in Stantonville, which was conveniently down south 2 kilometres from my house. We walked into the store, mockingly pushing each other while mumbling nicknames. “Olive oil.” She blurted. I answered saying. “Ponytail.” I started walking backwards while talking to Lorraine when I abruptly bumped into my manager. “Good morning boss.” I uttered, only to have him reply with, “Morning kid. Do me a favour and pick up some supplies down by the docks at around 7 tonight? It’ll go on your college application.” He winked and completed the gesture with a slight nudge to the shoulder. I nodded then turned around towards Lorraine, looking for justification as to whether or not she would come, only to find her fiddling with a packet of 2-ply toilet paper. I waited, just staring at her, and when she finally noticed, she quickly answered, “Sounds great!” That night, which ended up being a particularly cold, depressing night, we arrived at the bay at exactly a quarter past seven. The area was quiet and dark, like an abandoned ally in Lorraine and my favourite movie: Batman. We walked down an alley with chains forged into the brick walls on both sides of us and stains of what my over active imagination assumed to be blood covering several segments of the floor. Lorraine sprinted to one of the damaged doors and gently opened it. I whispered, “Lorraine, get back here. We don’t know if there are any people around.” “Oh come on, this is the only fascinating place in all of Stantonville and you’re telling me you’re not even slightly intrigued?” She continued, disregarding what I had said completely. The door creaked slightly and some chips of woods fell as Lorraine pushed the door open. I jumped ahead and walked in first with Lorraine behind me. It was empty. Not a single window or piece of furniture in the room. We stepped into the center, cautiously, and the second we did so, the door slammed shut. After that an even odder moment followed… Or at least I thought it had. In the corner of the room there was a silhouette of what seemed to be a man, moving cautiously but gracefully all at once. I watched it for a split second before it vanished into the empowering darkness of the room. I turned towards Lorraine and by the expression of fear on her face I had guessed she saw the man as well. I stuttered, “Lorraine, don’t panic.” Suddenly the ground started shaking. Fragments of paint from the ceiling started to fall. The next thing I knew, I had tripped. My eyes opened, adjusting to the light around me. My first thought was of Lorraine. “Lorraine!” I yelped. She replied, “Over here, Ollie.” from the other end of the room. I sighed with great relief. “Look Ollie.” She pointed to a window that hadn’t been there when we first entered the room. The most peculiar part

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was that it was daytime. We looked at each other. She smiled with exhilaration. I smiled back. “Our first real adventure.” I said with a slight smirk, followed by a wink. I rose up onto my feet and offered Lorraine a hand afterwards. We cautiously opened the door, which was no longer locked and no longer caused a creaking noise as well, which was peculiar no less. We opened the door only to find that we were in the middle of a beach. Lorraine and I just stood there, perplexed by the current situation at hand. Did I mention that I, Oliver Sahlman, have been dreaming, about sailing out into the world on my own one day? I think I did, but since it’s been my lifelong dream, it’s worth mentioning again. When Lorraine and I had first laid eyes on the beach, my eyes almost instantaneously fixated on what at first felt much like that of a mirage, but turned out to be the greatest part of this tale. It was indeed… a mint condition, acacia wood, hand crafted, cap sailboat. I recognized the model. It was difficult not to for a person with my level of knowledge on the subject of sailing. I stared at it with disbelief. Slowly, I started walking towards the boat. In the distance I heard Lorraine mutter, “Oh Oliver, probably in his dream world again.” I had reached the sailboat, lightly stroking the wooden panels as if it were an injured animal. I grinned ecstatically. I turned towards Lorraine only to find her smiling back sympathetically. “Isn’t she beautiful. The places we could go on this thing. One can only dream.” She walked over. Crouched next to me. She said, “Why dream when you have the chance to live it.” She put her hand on mine and looked me in the eyes. “Oliver, you have to do this. We always used to talk about how one day we would leave the town and everything behind and go out on our own adventure, and now is our chance.” The sun was setting. A beautiful pink and orange hue had cast over the horizon. I glanced at the boat, then at Lorraine. I kissed her, gently and quickly. When it ended I looked at her, and she at me. I held out my hand and said, “Together?” She took my hand, her fluorescent green eyes never leaving mine. “Together.” She confirmed. I pulled her back into my arms for a second kiss, this time it lasted longer. We pushed the sailboat into the sea and jumped into it. We found a parched message tucked under one of the seats, it read: Dear Reader, in my times while sailing the Southern China Sea I had realized that the only thing important in life is adventure. Assuming you seek adventure, I would suggest heading southwards on a river commonly known as: The Pearl River Delta. There are some supplies and food in the compartment below. I wish you the best of luck on your journey to who knows where. Sincerely, Matthew Moss Hawkins. Lorraine and I glanced at each other, almost in a synchronized rhythm. We smiled, no words were needed. I pulled back the tiller and we were off, sailing out into the horizon, sailing out on the Pearl River Delta. 2 days later… We were speeding, the cold, salty ocean water splashing against the depleted skin on my face, filling me with liveliness with in every drop. “Ollie, I see it.” Lorraine said with joy. She pointed to a map that was attached onto the letter. “We’re here.” I said with much exhilaration. “Our adventure begins now.”

Fiction: Group 3

Fire and Chocolate Elsa High School, Fischer, Ben - 13, Fiction: Group 3

he old book was dusty. It had a mottled, deep chocolate cover, a colour so consuming she tasted it upon her lips; a colour so deep it only complimented to the attic’s friable frame. The sunlight of the late noon shone bright

through the high upstairs window, creating an entrancing shadow which lay upon the book like a menacing arrow. It seemed strange, she wondered, for such a book to be in this state. The bare room could barely support itself; creaks were often heard in the night. The house was meant to be empty, but the petty items of the household still resided. Returning out of the deep thought the very cover of the dusty book brought her into, she gingerly reached her long, pale fingers and curled them under the cover of the precious manuscript. The pages were cracked and frail. Cautious, she flipped to the first page as she had so many times with her beloved books. As if preying upon the unopened seal of some tomb, she began to read. I was given this book by a Mongolian traveller, to record my journey with the hope it will bring me success on my mission. I am now flying over Nepal, the mountains passing before me. My precious cargo sits on my lap. Andrew is sleeping beside me.

There was a large black puddle on the page that seemed to be ink. The plane went down. It has been three days now. Andrew is dead. He survived the crash, just him and me. There were forces on the ground. I took the chest and ran. I did not look back. They are searching for me, a whole platoon. Germans, it appears. I fear they know of the chest…they are coming. I hope I can write again. The small, rocky boat made its way along the Pearl River Delta. I am the sole passenger. The navigator and captain is a shrivelled old man, but I trust nobody now. After Shanghai…I have not had the time to write again. We should be making port in Macao shortly. I wish I had the time to recount my adventures since, but time is of the essence and I must keep an eye out. I will not allow more surprises. It may be a long time until I can write, though I will try. My cargo is intact, but I will not let it out of my sight. I hope I succeed. The cannons all fired; smoke billowed out of the barrels and the cannons rolled back on their heels. The ringing in my ears would not stop, an endless pounding, a sound of drums so loud my eardrums seemed as though they would burst. Faintly, I could hear the sound of a hundred things. Gunfire, penetrating the walls, riddling them just as they did my brother’s chest. The commanding officer, shouting commands to ready the cannons once more. Horses whining as they fell to the ground, their riders crushed. The memories of these past few days still shine bright in my head. Christmas day could not grow worse. The College has been taken, the West Brigade Fallen. I am writing here as I watch my city burn. The chest I have made such an effort to deliver sits beside me. I do not have the courage to open it; for then it would be to acknowledge that I have failed. Failed my duty, my country, my city- for in the end, Hong Kong is my city-I have fought for it, and I will die for it. If this does not mean anything, nothing does. But alas, these are the desperate murmurs of a dying man. The Japanese are nearing. If they gain the contents of this chest, the war is lost. So I will hide it.

The next few pages were yellowed and torn, making the delicate and tall English handwriting undecipherable. Beyond that numerous lines and sentences were missing or inked out. Taking no time to ponder all that has been read and the excitement that lay within it, she turned to the nearest readable point and continued. It has been done. The chest… is hidden. I can only hope they will not find it. It… If they find it the battle is lost. Already we have lost. Our spirit is diminished, and that is always the first to be lost. I can only hope the next will not be more lives. I have no complaint, and I am content with my fate- It is not long now until they find me. There is fire before me, a fire that has left my heart. I am drained. I have travelled through deserts and oceans, battlefields and warzones, only to fail my mission. The contents of the box… city… Andrew died for nothing. The battle is already lost. I cannot live with the burning memories that have torn through my head like the plague of war spreading across the world. Here, now, is the Fall of Hong Kong. The world is broken, unrecognizable. We will kill ourselves for no purpose, rip the world to pieces for what gain? Nothing. Anger has filled inside of me, providing the embers of the fire that once raged inside me, but there is nothing I can do. I will die alone. Death is not a fearful thing; it never was, but the sudden clarity that has struck me is something to fear indeed. Life is but a short interval between death and birth, and

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nothing we do can change that. But the curse of humankind is that our purpose is to find a meaning. At this time, watching fire burn before me, I cannot be a man of God. I may look to the skies for prayer but all I can see is ash. If I look to the ground for peace, all I can see are bones. How can I have belief when above me is ash, beneath me are bones, and fire in between? But if there is a Creator, then there is nothing I can do but hope. Hope is the water the burning wasteland… The Japanese are approaching. The Pearl River Delta that I can see out this small window is like I have never seen before. It is all red. Everything I see is red. The blood on Andrew’s face, that red sun on a backdrop of white roses… My time has belittled. Our final effort is finishing. We are soon to surrender. I can only hope the box is safe. I have the only key. I wish there was more I could say, more things I want to pour into these pages, but I am empty. I can only say I tried. It was quite the adventure. I everything the world has been through will be for something, and the war will end… They are here. There is no time. I wish I could have filled more pages, but it will have to end short. This was all written to you, Andrew. I speak to you. I hope I will see you soon.

She finished with a large intake of breath. She sat on her knees in silence as she processed everything she had read. This was the journal of a dead man. A soldier in the Second World War, during the battle of Hong Kong. She knew it all too well; in fact, outside the very window was the infamous Stanley Fort visible. The unknown man was delivering a chest filled with something revolutionary in the war. Presumably, the man was writing this around Christmas of 1941, on what was known as the Black Christmas, where many people died at the hands of the invading Japanese. The very Peal River Delta he spoke of was right in front of her, but it was now a sea-green. In her eyes, however, she could only see red water. She wondered if this was the same window. He wrote with such as style she could visualize everything he had written perfectly in her head as if she was standing beside him. Tears began to well up in her eyes upon the knowledge of everything she had just read. Alone, in this crumbling attic, she cried over the fate of this man and the story. she rested her head on the large leather book and cried, her tears engulfed in the swirling vortex of chocolate. Perhaps this man liked chocolate. Fire and chocolate. Maybe those were his last thoughts. Biting back more tears, the stood and picked up the book. She felt something slide within it, and an object dropped to the floor. She bent down, eyes wide. The book dropped to the floor. She picked up the object, turned it around, and studied it. She could not breathe. Shining in the daylight, in her hands lay a silver key.

Fiction: Group 3

The Adventures of Scarlett Saderica Elsa High School, Hyams, Josh - 12, Fiction: Group 3

“Catch me if you can Dad,” Scarlett said. “I’m coming for you Scarlett,” Dad said. They were playing tag on the green and wet grass. They have been playing for half an hour now. Scarlett went to get the bottle of water. Scarlett reached over to the bottle. She lay down on the grass and looks up at the afternoon sky while drinking water. “Here is the water Dad, Dad, Dad!!!” Scarlett shouted. Scarlett looked all around where they were playing. It would be easy to spot someone hiding because it was an open space. Scarlett started panicking. She couldn’t find her Dad. She started running all over the place with fear but couldn’t find her Dad. She ran back home and told her Mum that she couldn’t find her Dad. “Don’t worry, Dad probably just went somewhere near and he would come back tomorrow,” Scarlett’s Mum told Scarlett. The next day came across and her Dad wasn’t there. “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Scarlett, happy birthday to you!” All her friends celebrated her 19th birthday in her house in Shenzhen. “Go on, blow the candles and make a wish!” one of her friends said. Scarlett said to herself, ‘I wish I could see my father again.’ She blew the candles out. She was reflecting back on the time where she was playing with her Dad and she was reflecting how all the agriculture had been taken away and been replaced by buildings and skyscrapers. There have been so many differences between the land then and the land now such as the whole land itself being a place full of agriculture and now it’s a place full of buildings and skyscrapers. There are more jobs and things to do now because back then there were little buildings and roads but not as much as there is now. Also the variety of food you can eat now. They also have their own kind of cuisine. Scarlett went for a walk outside with a nice breeze brushing past her face. She was taking a look at what she didn’t know was in the outside world. She wanted to explore and try new things. She was an adventurer and her Dad always use to call her that. She decided to try one of Shenzhen’s specialty foods and that is Longgong Chicken. She finished her food and went back to her house. Scarlett turned on the TV and there was breaking news. The reporter said, “There is a man whose name is Alan Spears, he is walking around with a gun in his hand and he is shooting everyone he sees. So far he has killed 21 people. Jeff, give us some more information about this horrible crime.” She recognized that person but she couldn’t remember who that person was. “Thanks Clyde, Alan Spears has for the past hour trying to look for a girl named Scarlett. We don’t know what his aim is but we now are warning whoever lives in Shenzhen, Bao’An District, lock your doors. Goodbye and this has been CBB News.” Scarlett lives on that street and her name was mentioned in the news report. She had a feeling that it was one of the members in her family. She was frightened. Someone was looking for her and he had a gun. She was thinking, ‘Who is Alan Spears?’ Suddenly there was a gunshot on the doorknob and the door opened. “Dad?” Scarlett asked confusingly. “You, you, you have no idea what in the world I have been. Where were you when I needed help? WHERE WERE YOU?” He pointed the gun at her head. “What in the world is happening? Why are you going to shoot me? What do you mean, when did you need help?” Scarlett questioned. She was terrified and confused. “You left me there, didn’t you see someone attacking me? You didn’t see me bleeding and suffering. I want you to feel the pain that I felt during that period of time.” He said threateningly. Why would you do that? I’m your daughter! “You’re not my daughter, I’m your…” He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Someone attacked him from behind. “Oh my gosh, I have no idea what in the world just happened. Thanks so much Ella.” Scarlett said. After that life-threatening moment Scarlett sat on her bed thinking who he was and why did he want to kill me. She decided that she wanted to move somewhere else and try to forget what just happened. Scarlett liked the skyscrapers and the restaurants in the Pearl River Delta so she decided that she wanted to move to Macau and that’s exactly what she did.

Fiction: Group 3

She was still terrified that the exact same thing would happen to her again. She wanted to explore the outside world of Macau. She went into one of the many famous places in Macau, The Ruins of St. Paul. She knew that Carlo Spinola built the Ruins of St. Paul and she wanted to see his work. Scarlett only wanted to have a look around The Ruins of St. Paul. Scarlett saw a free black taxi coming her way so she put her hand up to indicate that she wanted to get in the taxi. There she was, right in front of the Ruins of St. Paul. She went to have a look inside it. Scarlett was looking all around the inside of the Ruins of St. Paul until she bumped into someone and dropped her purse. “Are you OK, I’m really sorry let me help you up,” the man who bumped into her said. “It’s fine,” Scarlett replied. “Let me make it up to you and let’s walk around and explore this fine place,” he said. “I haven’t really met you as a friend but let’s see how it goes,” Scarlett replied. She knew if she said no it would be a little rude. They walked around and had a look at the Ruins of St. Paul. “You should really come over to my place, you seem like a friendly fellow,” the man who bumped into Scarlett said. “Ermmmm, OK,” she said reluctantly. They went over to Bobby’s house for a cup of tea. Bobby lived near the Pearl River Delta with the view of the beautiful water. “Do you have any parents?” Bobby asked. Um, yes, I have mother and I use to have a father until he just disappeared,” Scarlett replied. “Shame, what was his name?” Bobby questioned. “His name was Morsejo Saderica.” “Excuse me for a second, I need to get something,” Bobby said. He went to his bedroom and brought a knife into the living room where they were sitting. It seemed like Bobby was going to stab Scarlett. TO BE CONTINUED…

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Elsa High School, Razon, Ori - 12, Fiction: Group 3

y name is James Williams, I was born on February 22nd 1990 in the land of Hong Kong and grew up there for my whole life, I learn Geography and History at the University of Hong Kong and as I get older and older, I notice the differences between the Hong Kong that I was

born and the Hong Kong that my ancestors lived in. I am yet to see the beautiful Hong Kong that has been seen by my elder family members and now, my mission is to bring that Hong Kong back. January 12th 2015 “Hi Robert, how are you?” I approached my boss at the University of Hong Kong. “I’m fine thank you, how about you?” Robert asked, “I’m good, now listen. Umm, I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time but have never gotten the chance to, now I do have the chance. I hope you don’t object but I would like to fly around the whole Pearl River Delta, to learn more about their culture and how their life is now compared to their lives in the past. From there, I’ll be able to raise awareness and to bring back the beautiful Hong Kong and the rest of the beautiful Pearl River Delta.” I proclaimed. It took a few seconds of thought but Robert agreed in the end. After finishing my work at the University, I ran home to my beautiful wife and shouted, “Grace! I can finally tour around the Pearl River Delta!” “How come, we can’t afford that.” Grace said. “Ya, I know. That’s why I’ve been saving up.” I answered. “Do whatever you want, follow your dreams and don’t let anybody stop you in your way.” Grace exclaimed. “Thank you, I love you.” “I love you too.” She answered. January 13th 2015 The next morning, I was packed and ready for my trip. My wife and I said our farewells and I left to the central pier ferry. It was going to leave in exactly 2 hours and couldn’t miss that trip to Macau, and so at 4 pm I was on my way to Macau, the Las Vegas of Southern East Asia. Towards my arrival, I took pictures of the lights that the tall and high skyscrapers were excreting and in comparison to the Macau of 1970, I was amazed. The Portuguese had really shaped Macau in both positive and negative ways. However, in my opinion, we need the old Macau back. A peaceful place, when you could hear the singing of the birds and the waves of the ocean. That Macau was a beautiful one. I stayed at the Crown Towers hotel for a fortnight, taking pictures of all architectural phenomenon that captured my eyes as evidence that we have to fix the problem that we are facing. Macau is extremely polluted now days. Everybody are stuck to their phones and there is no interaction with one another whatsoever, and I noticed even more than I had before that this is a problem we have to fix. Quickly. January 27th 2015 Now, I was to arrive at Shenzhen, with no knowledge whatsoever of neither what its culture was like nor what its architecture was like. I thought I would be surprised of Shenzhen’s culture, I thought to myself that maybe we hadn’t lost Shenzhen yet, but obviously I was wrong. To my surprise, it was exactly like Hong Kong. It had the same style of Architecture, everybody was stuck to their phones, and yet again we have lost another part of the Pearl River Delta. I stayed there for three nights longer to learn more about their way of living and their culture, and to have picture evidence of the cities that we have come to. However, it seems more and more than that culture I am searching for is never going to be found. January 30th 2015 I was now on my way to my final destination, Guangzhou. I knew what it was going to be like and I wasn’t surprised at my arrival. It was just like Hong Kong if not worse than Hong Kong. Filled with skyscrapers reaching until the sky. At night, lights were scattered throughout the city lightning up the horizon. Even without streetlights, you would be able to see at night. At this time, I was shocked by the destinations that I had reached throughout this whole trip itself. I had seen things that I had never seen before. However, coming into it I thought to myself that it might not be so bad. I thought to myself that some places will have

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to have some of their old culture left in them and that we still had a chance. However, I was obviously wrong. I stayed at Guangzhou for two nights to snap a few photos and then I was on my way. February 1st 2015 That day, was the day at which I were to head back to Hong Kong. After a ferry ride of three hours, I arrived at Hong Kong. After exiting the pier, I saw my beautiful wife standing there. We greeted each other and hugged then were on our way to the house, in the car Grace asked, “How was it? Did you enjoy it?” “ I really loved learning more about these people’s culture and their way of life. However, I’m quite disappointed at their way of living. In every one of the countries and cities, everybody is stuck to their phones, and the air is extremely polluted. I expected more of these places but it’s fine, because you can’t always get what you want.” I replied. “You’ll be fine, trust me.” Grace said, “Ya you’re right, I’m being way too over dramatic. Thanks for that Grace.” “Anytime.” February 3rd 2015 I woke up, and got to work right away. Whilst working on the article, I got a call. “Hello?” I said. “Hi, it’s National Geographic. We heard from your boss Richard that you’re trying to publish an article to raise awareness of the polluted Pearl River Delta with beautiful pictures that you took, so why don’t we help you do that. If you can fly to America on a plane that we’ll pay for, we’ll publish the article in your name and you’ll get all the credit. What do you say?” “Yes!” I replied in excitement. “Thank you thank you so much!” “No problem.” National Geographic replied and hung up. In excitement, I joyfully ran to Grace and told her the news, she was extremely happy for me and directly after, I called up Richard to say thanks for all the help. He was also very happy for me and told me to never give up, as if you don’t you will be rewarded and those words I took to heart. February 22nd 2015 This was the date at which I finished my article with the huge help and support of my friends, family and National Geographic. I was extremely proud of myself and so were National Geographic. The article that I wrote was so good in their opinion that they were going to put it on the first page of their magazine. I was honoured that they chose me of all people to be on their first page. As I went back to my hotel in Washington to pack up my stuff and head back to Hong Kong, I got a phone call from Grace, “Hello?” “Hi, it’s me. I’m very proud of you for making the first page of the magazine. Sorry I can’t be there for your birthday.” “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Making the first page of National Geographic’s magazine with your help and support is the best birthday present that I can possibly have.” I said. “ I’m happy you think so. I’m awaiting your arrival at the airport.” Grace replied. “Me too. See you there.”

Fiction: Group 3

Survivors of the War Elsa High School, Zamek, Rachamim - 13, Fiction: Group 3

veryone has different story about surviving the war. Every day, one of those survivors dies and their stories of death, hardship, and hope are lost. I have collected so many stories, and I intend to hear as many as possible before they all fade like a light summer’s day disappearing into the thick fog of

night. My thoughts trailed off into the stories I have collected so far until someone woke me from a dream. I woke with a start, my dog nipping at my heels to get me up. It was then that I realized that the boat had stopped. I looked out the circular window to see the desolation the war had caused. Here, every building that had stood proudly was now nothing but rubble. The captain of the ship ran down the rusted metal stairs with a clank, clank, clank of his mechanical foot, the ship spewing steam every three seconds. “Well we’re here,” he gasped in a raspy voice that was just as full of steam. He walked with me up the stairs to the exit. “Goodbye. Thank you for the ride, how many MGB’s do I have to pay you?” I asked as I pulled out a small box barley full of little bullets each engraved with the letters MGB. “On the house for my nephew,” he whispered with concern. “But a word of warning kid, America was a level three disaster zone. Hong Kong and the Pearl River Delta, level seven. There are no rules here.” I spun the loading cylinder of my revolver with a click click. “I think I can take care of myself. Thank you uncle.” He replied simply with a smile that stretched with admiration and concern across his face. I stayed at the dock watching the old steam ship claw for speed through the harbour. Two men were sitting at the dock speaking in harsh tones about outlanders. Next to one of them was a shotgun. My dog growled at the sight of their soot-covered faces. I walked up to one of them. He barked, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE OUTLANDER!” My eyes darting from the man to the dock, I asked “I am a collector of stories and I am looking for a survivor of the war by the name of Michael Bennet.” “MICHAEL AINT NO SURIVOR. HE DIED IN THE WAR.” a new voice yelled back at me. “Ah don’t listen to them old buggers.” another new, but faceless voice yelled back. “They know nothing.” I saw the figure out of the corner of my eye. He was gesturing for me to approach. I walked over to him asking, “And you are?” “I am no one, but those men are the guards you might say,” He replied, while petting my dog. “They would say anything to make you turn around and leave.” “So why help me?” I asked. “Ah my boy, it is because you are a most interesting fellow. No one comes here unless they are searching for something, and what you are searching for is very special,” he answered. “Now, you’re looking for, someone by the name of Michael Bennet, yes?” “Yes,” I replied. “Well it will take a day to get there on foot but you can catch one of the only modes of transportation in Hong Kong. “Just take the tram to Shau Kei Wan, then find a bar by the name of This War Of Mine.” he said. “When is the next tram?” I asked. “Well now,” he said happily. I heard the sound of metal on metal, the sparking of wires, and the puffing smoke of steam. I ran after the tram, a long thin double-decker piece of machinery with open door ways at either end. I saw a hand stretch out to mine and pull me onto the tram. I looked around to see who helped me but nobody was there. I felt a sudden sharp pain of memory, letters made of fire blazed across my forearm. The pain was so bad I could not scream. The fire died and all that was left were the scars of the flame marking:

Child Of

The War

My skin felt cool to the touch I kept touching it cautiously reminding myself that the fire was long gone. During the entire tram ride I kept seeing shadowy figures out of the corner of my eye. They looked so familiar, like memories, but they also felt cold and alien, like Hong Kong. When I finally arrived it did not take me long to find the bar and to find you, Michael.

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“So now that I’ve told you my story, why don’t you, Michael Bennet survivor of the war, tell me yours,” I asked Michael. “The memories have glazed over and faded but it is still most entertaining.” he began…

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Evangel College, Chong, Cavis - 11, Fiction: Group 3

hough we can change the time in stories, it is temporarily impossible to happen in reality. We must treasure the time and try our best to conserve our “planet”. In a city, there weren’t many human beings. There were five left and they were facing 2000 weird

creatures. Looks like, there would be a battle very soon as both sides were holding weapons. ‘We shall fight until we die, attack!’ A teenager cried when running to some creatures, holding their swords. Five men ran in the crowd of creatures their weapons and slew as many opponents as they could. However, two of them died because of severe injury. After an intense battle, four teenagers were killed and their blood spilled over everywhere as the creatures fired a lot of bullets towards them with a machine gun. At the same time, the leader, an old man, escaped from the battle chaos. It seems like the creatures won the battle… Chapter 1 pollution In the year 2100, the air pollution became uncontrollable. However, everyone had just gone crazy; they do not care about the environment. Why does everyone do things like this? Chapter 2 The story ‘Huh!’ An old man sighed with sorrow and desperation. The old man had a long white beard and wore a hat which usually possessed by wizards in tales. He also held a staff and a sword. Four teenagers walked towards to the old man as they were curious with the old man’s action. ‘Ten years ago, some scientists and some high officials found a paper in a secret pathway. There were some strange words on it and a map which describes Pearl River Delta. The officials immediately told the scientist to analyse the paper as they were really curious. At first, scientists thought the map was ridiculous as human beings did not find out anything special in Pearl River Delta for 6 Centuries.’ The old man said ‘Then, after the scientists decoded the strange words in Chinese with the help of some linguists and a super computer. The paragraph told “Hidden power in the South China Sea. Find it, you may invent something extraordinary.” Everyone did not expect that their ancestors could install the power in the deep sea. However, humans were really weak creatures and they did not fight over their curiosity and greed. They sent professional scuba divers to examine whether the paragraph is real or not. Though the divers had explored for twelve hours, there was still no signal of the power. Just when they were going to give up…’ The two teenagers sat down next to the storyteller and gazed at him, hoping he would continue his story. The storyteller continued ‘A great light pillar got through rocks and went up to the surface of the sea. Therefore, the power was located. From that time on, people kept inventing new technology as to get the power and to break through the barriers that they have encountered. However, during the progress of manufacturing new technology emits a large amount of greenhouse gases which may end up polluting the environment. Until now, humans have only break through 13 levels, but the problem of the pollution is deteriorating in the Delta. Humans in the Delta may face extinction if we did not evacuate the place in 6 months. I have travelled around the delta. I appreciated the wisdom of human. I love the beauty of their traditional culture, scenic spots, monuments and the buildings. However, I still cannot stop things from happening even if I have great power.’ The old man then turned around and stared at the listeners. He said ‘Do you wish to protect our homeland? If yes, listen to my instructions, we may have a risk of death. However, we should sacrifice ourselves and protect it in my opinion’ after the old man offered the teenagers to follow him, the teenagers hesitated. ‘We cannot trust that old man though he looks like a wizard or a man who can predict the fortune!’ one of them whispered. However, the others did not agree and said together ‘Though the man is a stranger, he is still right. Our delta may be destroyed by foreign forces, especially aliens! We must take this risk to protect our homeland. We cannot sacrifice it!’ The teenager who did not want to participate in the action was successfully persuaded by the others after discussion. Chapter 3 The Demolishers

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Far from Earth, in a planet called B394894775. There were a lot of aliens and they were the demolishers. Their breed became strong after they took over others colonies. One day, their king received a message about the power in Pearl River Delta. After the king had read the whole letter, he immediately ordered three divisions to attack the delta and get the power. They brought different weapons with them. All the weapons can cause great damage. Therefore, it would be intense if they fought with the humans. Then, they got on their spaceships after everything was well-prepared. Chapter 4 Too late At last, the troop of demolishers arrived at the delta when the citizens had already realized that their land was not suitable for living, so they left the delta and sacrificed the opportunity of getting back the power. The last group of men who had not left knew that if the aliens got the power, the extinction of the human-beings would not be far away. (In fact, the last ones in the delta is the old man and the four followers). The five men stood still staring at their opponents with no fear on their face. When both sides had settled down, the five companions drew out their great sword and ran towards the aliens. The old man casted a spell and caused a lightning which killed a lot of opponents. Though the old man owned a great power, he cannot fight against 2000 demolishers. The other four companions were also injured severely as they were shot by bullets. They were captured and were slain in front of the wizard. The old man knew that he had lost the battle, so he fled. Chapter 5 Time travelling After the epic battle was finished, the demolishers immediately went to find the power hidden in the sea. Just as they were about to get the power, something really weird happened. They were back to their planet and the time was 64 years ago! In fact, when the wizard fled, he turned on the time machine in his watch to 2026. He hopes that people will treasure this opportunity to keep the beautiful delta clean…

Fiction: Group 3

Greed is the Thing with a Mask Evangel College, Lam, Vanessa Robin - 14, Fiction: Group 3

eople are born pure. people are born with innocence. Even in different times and places, this is an unchanged fact. We’re born lovable, fragile, beautiful. It never occurs to us that one day, all of this will not be the same. Our darkness surfaces as we age, even though it is sometimes hidden. Wars.

Power. Desire. In the end, it always ruins us. “August...What have I done? This isn’t what I wanted! Please be alive...we need you...the city needs you!” Gile cried, falling onto his knees. The sight in front of him was nowhere near pleasant. The city was completely destroyed, the remains of fallen buildings covered up the city entirely. The horrid-sickening smell of gun powder lingered in his nostrils. Smoke filled the air. No one was crying, no one was screaming. And next to Victory, was August’s lifeless body. The sky slowly turned dark, but nothing could be seen due to the smoke. Gile stood up and looked around while tears began spilling nonstop from his eyes. He had lost everything. He had nothing left. All the pain and suffering could never be lifted.

“I don’t want to live anymore.” * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“It’s The Chief!” someone shouted. “The Chief? What’s he doing here?” another asked. “Well, whatever the reason, it’s definitely important,” one spoke. On cue, a shadow arose from the dark, revealing a short-plump-middle-aged man. He was in a luxurious black suit and an expensive looking tie hung handsomely from his neck. Despite his strict appearance, The Chief beamed at the soldiers and put down the cigarette he was smoking with. “My dear soldiers, it is such an honour to be able to meet you all. I have an important announcement to make. Gile Reed can you please step forward?” The Chief said, resulting in a few murmurs. “Gile Reed Sir, at your service.” Gile marched forward and saluted. “So you’re the famous Gile Reed. I have to say, I’m quite impressed. Your training results are most outstanding,” The Chief stated. “Thank you Sir. It’s all thanks to my supportive teammates,” he replied humbly. “Because of your great performance, I hereby put you in charge of the entire military of Hong Kong. Starting from today, 2036, the 5th of April, you are the supreme commander. ” The Chief said, hiding a smile. His plan was proceeding smoothly. He was certain that Gile could get him what he wanted. “Thank you again Sir. I will not disappoint you,” Gile answered. When The Chief finally left the building, all the soldiers cheered. “I knew Gile was going to be promoted soon. This is great! The military will surely function well with him in charge. Now we don’t have to worry!” One of the soldiers said happily while the others nodded in agreement. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * “Gile, it’s time we declare war against Guang Zhou and Macau. We need the resources and we need to expand our territory.” The Chief told him seriously. “Excuse my rudeness, but I’m sure we have all the resources and land we need.” Gile began, “I refuse to put my men in danger for something we don’t need.” “If we don’t take action, the other cities will soon be ahead of us! We have to be the best! We need them to fear our power!” The Chief demanded, standing up from his chair. “Sir, nothing is more important than peace. Even if we did go to war, we would be using up our resources. We won’t gain a single thing.” Gile responded, still composed despite the anger of The Chief. An awkward silence filled the room. “How much do you want?” The Chief asked while lowering his voice. “Excuse me?” Gile asked, slightly offended. “I’ll give you anything you want. Money, fame, land, anything you can think of. All you have to do is lead the army.” The Chief said in a tempting way. “I’m extremely sorry Sir. That won’t work on me.” Gile said before leaving the room. “Oh, I’m sure it will.” The Chief muttered under his breath and smirked.

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Fiction: Group 3

Gile spent the rest of day arguing with himself. It was a difficult and complicated situation. “I shouldn’t...no, I shouldn’t...but if I get the money...I can retire and relax for the rest of my life! Besides, this is for my wife and daughter... They’ll definitely want to live a good life! Yeah, that’s right. I’m doing this for them. Yeah.” He had made his decision. “If you, Commander agree to go along with this, I’m sure it’s for the betterment of our city,” a soldier said. “I’m glad to have your trust.” Gile answered with a smile. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty. “I thought of a plan yesterday, but I’m not sure if it’ll work.” Gile began saying. “We should try to lure them into the centre of Pearl River Delta and we can attack from all three sides. Then we can force them out to sea.” “But Commander... the Pearl River Delta is a key trade area. There will be a lot of boats and ships passing by. We can’t risk harming people who aren’t involved in the war.” “A little sacrifice is always necessary for the benefit of our country. We need to keep our eyes on the prize,”Gile said coldly. A while later, he went to check on new weapons that had been recently completed. Every single one of them was as big and tall as a 3-storey building. “Which model is this?” he asked the technician, examining the nearest machine from head to toe. “This one’s a beauty, Victory. The Chief thinks this name best describes our next battle,” the technician explained with pride. The Victory was the most developed killing machine of Hong Kong. It was armed with every single weapon you can name. Riffles, lasers, bazookas, everything. It even had the ability to fly. And it wasn’t just any flying. It was so fast that not even a plane or rocket could catch up. In order for it to perform at its full potential, a pilot was necessary. The chosen pilot of the Victory, August Freeman was a 5-star soldier. Although he was an excellent pilot, he wasn’t very fond of wars. In fact, he hates it. When he was only a young and innocent schoolboy, the military of China discovered his hidden talent and forced him to quit school to join the military. He transferred himself to Hong Kong not long after acquiring his 5-star title to avoid further fighting. But it seemed like his years of living in peace were finally up. “I heard that we’ll be using August Freeman in the battle,” the technician said. “Yes, that’s right. He will be fighting the troops of Macau,” Gile explained. “All by himself? He’ll die!” the technician couldn’t believe his ears. “Yes. We need to deal with Guang Zhou. We can’t risk losing too much manpower before that,” Gile replied bluntly. “It will be a meaningful sacrifice.” The sound of gunfire rang through open air. People were shouting and yelling at the same time. Numerous machines burst into flames, fire spread across the city in mere seconds while sparks flickered brightly. August and his machine, Victory were battling in the sky, barely managing to dodge the attacks of the enemy’s ace. Mustering all his strength, August flew upwards and returned fire. “Why are we fighting? Why can’t we just coexist in peace?” he used to ask people. They always found him naive. No matter how much he hated wars he wanted to protect his city. Things didn’t go as well as they expected. Guang Zhou and Macau had found out their plan and formed an alliance to counterattack Hong Kong, leaving it in a bad situation. They even stole their data on Victory. Now that both parties are armed equally, the fight grew intense. Taking advantage of the Pearl River Delta’s triangular shape, they had Hong Kong surrounded. Sweat trickled down Gile’s face and he cursed himself. They were losing. The enemy was too strong. His face turned even paler as he realized that Victory had been completely destroyed. Only ashes remained in its place. The remaining fragments flew out into the sea. “August...What have I done? This isn’t what I wanted! Please be alive...we need you...The city needs you!” he shouted, not because of frustration, but fear and regret. A second later, he noticed, a body floating on the surface of the water next to Victory. Even in different times, people are full of greed. Greed is the thing with a mask. Greed can always be found within us. It is disguised. It is hidden in the deepest, darkest parts of our hearts. But Greed is always with us wherever we are. And in the end, it’s always greed that ruins us.

Fiction: Group 3

Lights of all Colours Harrow International School Hong Kong, Carew, Ella - 12, Fiction: Group 3

used to look up at the sky, when it rained, when the campfires were on, when the sun was shining on my small face, even when I was underground. I used to love fishing, taking a boat out to the shore of the river, although I never found pearls I still loved to dive, watching how the amphibians lived, how

the marine life communicated with one another. I even loved how the birds lived in so much harmony underwater, though they belonged up in the air. How when I escaped the aquatic world, even for just a breath, the air smelt like bamboo and the water reflected lights of all colours. I used to stay on the boat for hours, at midnight staring at the stars and how the constellations never failed to grab my attention. How the fireflies floated in the air, the trees whispering and laughing with one another. Causing the wind to accelerate, and the mountains to chide it’s young to sleep for the night. But I was going to face the biggest impact. One day as I walked across the shore, my salty brown hair fluttered in the air. For years now I had walked on the clammy grass, full of mud and dirt. The river by my side the whole time. It baffled me why the river would be named after a pearl though I never found any. The rice fields flattened. Ox lazily eating the grass at the top of the hill, my cousins harvesting the rice, and my brother trying to set fire to a cousins long locks. Hours passed, the day slowly turned to twilight. The sun rays fading into nothingness, and the snakes escaping their dens. All the animals were out and I, tripped over into the river shore. As I fell down a pain I had never experienced before circulated my body. The feeling of rust and oil erupted inside me. Down I fell, down into the dark abyss. Screaming and beating the water around me, slowly suffocating I saw the most gruesome, beauty. A mixture of neon colours and oil filled the water around me. My calf bleeding, the rusty metal below me terracotta with blood. My body covered in a layer of oil and sand. Shadows flashed before me, the taste of old medicine in my mouth. Then a deafening silence overwhelmed me, and someone had grabbed me by the hair, pulling me up to the surface. Once I woke up my senses were dead, but I still slaved them to work. The echoes of beeping machines filled the petite tiled room. A man talking with a short woman, her voice strained and sobs releasing from her mouth every sentence or so. “Help” I whispered, the memory came back to me. I fell down the shore, the rust and oil cutting off my blood circulation, the neon killing the krill and otters around me. Before I could stop, I attempted to get out of the bed in the claustrophobic room, only to fall down to the ground, and limbs to ache with fire. A dark blue bottle fell next to my head, the glass shattering and the liquid smelling of blood. I screamed, pushing myself off the ground, screaming for life. What was the date? Why did my fingers look so long? Why were my leaps longer, and my hair no longer brown, but a black ombré? And lastly, where was I? A lady ran up to me, her face seemed familiar, even her voice sounded familiar. Something at the back of my thoughts was telling me that I know her, the way her eyes smiled, how her hair was in a chopstick, especially how she cradled me and checked up on me. My vision was now clear, my voice wasn’t in any more agonizing pain. “What day is it, but more importantly who are you?” I asked the pathetic lady in front of me, only to receive a gasp of shock. She quickly fell down, crawling away, her eyes now bloodshot and her body shaking. As she reached the door and carried herself up she looked at me, and shook a shameful head. After the door shut all I did was cry, the sound of metal filling my eardrums and the dark memories filling my mind. All I could do was cry, without even wanting to I had flooded the floor with tears, broken glass,

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Fiction: Group 3

broken plastic tubes and most importantly – blood. I was drowning in my despair, and this time no one was there to rescue me. “Please” I begged, but there was only silence. I stood up, my body weak but my memories strong. I wanted to open the blue door in front of me, and beg for help. But I just stayed still, letting the clockworks of life function. I waited, and soon enough a young man came, his eyes full of pity and hatred. He helped me up and told me that I could leave within a few hours. The man didn’t wait for a reply, after seeing me in my condition he had fled, writing down a note saying medication: 3 hours of therapy for at least one month. I was unsure of how to respond, my voice cracked and before I knew it the young man had returned to collect me after helping me up and driven to the outskirts of my old village. Before departing the outskirts of what was left of the village, I was handed the note written only hours before. My strides were shaky, each inhale slowly becoming harder – whether from the anxiety or air, I was unsure. As I got closer to my house I could hear cars and construction, smell oil and metal machinery, but even worse… as I appeared at the remains of my house, the peace was gone. All I could see around me was tall buildings, so dense and dull I wondered how life could sustain in such a cold environment. Falling to my knees, hands covering my muffled screams. I was in a coma, they never told me what had happened to the outside world. They. Never. Told. Me. What. Had. Happened. To. The. Outside. World. They had never told me that there was pollution so thick that it covered nature but not the concrete, they never told me that the water no longer reflected lights of all colours. But I was never told that I can no longer look up at the sky, I was never told that there was no compass blue sky or that the clouds were not pearly white anymore, or the fact that the sun no longer shone on my face. I pulled myself back together and sprinted down the rice field, the once clammy grass now dry like splinters of wood. I had stopped so abruptly that the air braced itself from my impact, before my legs could think, my tongue did. Screaming out at the sky, walking up to the water and bashing my hands, cursing the river for what it had done to me, my sanity slowly drifting away. The veins on my arms throbbing and the city stilled, but I didn’t care. I never would. Slowly reaching out to my pocket on my skirt, grabbing the note written by the man, I opened it. A phone number was written in bold font underneath the advice, without even having to look at the number twice, I had memorized it. It was my brothers phone number that he had always wanted; I knew the code he had told me. If anyone is hurt we will take a job to help and never change number, racing out of the water before me, I headed towards the city. Wet and shivering, but determined to reach a phone box. I entered a phone booth and called the hotline, my brother’s voice answered, it was deeper, but still his. I didn’t even have to talk because he knew it was me and told me where his office was and that he was free to listen. So I ended the call and after hours, arrived at his office. My appearance scared those and my curiosity causing them to pity me. Knocking on the glass door, I saw a face, my brothers and as he welcomed me in, we both stood crying and accepting each other’s company. Not caring about the outside world for those few minutes I would forever cherish. Entering his office he motioned for us to sit, and I had practiced this with him when he was twelve and I only seven years old. But now was not a game, and as I answered his question, he truly knew that I was gone for. For when I look up at the sky, there are no longer lights of all colours.

Fiction: Group 3

Moon Runes Harrow International School Hong Kong, Craven, Louise - 13, Fiction: Group 3

unlight draped over Talia’s skin as she woke to the sound of birds singing their little song and the flaps of egrets flying off into the dense vegetation lying on the other side of the river. The sun was unusually high at this time, giving her warmth from the cold, wintry breeze that struck the village

every year. Her village consisted of two parts. One for the elders, leaders and very-important-looking people,

and the other for people like Talia, who worked ten times harder than those snobbish people in the “richer” part of the village.

Occasionally they would have meetings talking about politics, economy and society. However, the meetings could also be quite compelling, actually. Because of traditional values, the Hanai people chose to have meetings when the moon was at it’s highest, usually happening once a month.

Talia would stare longingly at the moon, as if it was pulling her into a kind of trance. Its brightness curtained the village with light and made her wonder who else felt the hypnotic eyes of the moon pull them towards it.

“No, no please don’t hurt me!” This was the third time I was having a dream about my death. I knew this wasn’t a good sign, that danger was coming. I could sense it, feel it even. Every night I would glimpse up at the moon and gaze at it in wonder, with the same inquisitive look on my face. It was as if the moon controlled me, like the Greek Goddess Aphrodite, who could tempt people with her beauty. Even though I was staring at something so enthralling, enchanting, captivating, I felt a strange suspicion that something wasn’t right. Then again nothing had really felt proper since last week. This must be the time to visit Gwenllian the Wise, I thought. It is said that he lives in a cave on Castle Peak in Hong Kong. It is also said that he could even predict when you were going to get sick next by looking at your fingernails.

So there I was, with my rucksack made of the finest cow-skin leather and cotton, trekking the vast landscapes and braving the scorching heat of the Hong Kong sun. After what seemed like a day and a half, I made it up to the top of Castle Peak, where I noticed signs of old, rusty and discoloured, with big, striking words in jet-black ink distinctly saying “DO NOT COME FURTHER, YOU FEAR FOR YOUR LIFE”. Not a hundred per cent paying attention to this, I trudged on with every bit of might I had left in me and tramped towards the dimly lit and soggy cave entrance. I was feeling so hopeful until now.

Two beady eyes darted from my hair to my feet, my bag then lastly to my eyes with a callous and merciless look that sent a shiver tingling down my spine. These two eyes, however, belonged to the old man of the East, or the old man of all philosophical thinking. Or easier, Gwenllian. “Whaddya want?” Gwenllian snapped. He seemed jittery and not at all what people had said he was. Beer bottles were chucked on the floor and the smell of reeking alcohol wafted through the doorway, or entrance, and bits of newspaper were scattered on the floor… But the thing that caught my eye was the imposing picture of a girl, roughly about 11 or 12, half-hung up in the middle of the room. Unlike Gwenllian, the girl had a cheeky grin on her face as she was pulling in a fresh catch of colourful fish. Gwenllian noticed me surveying the girl, when he said “Her name’s Talia.” His bold, thundering voice became a soft, hushed voice. He went on. “She went missing last year, the day after this was taken. She’s my granddaughter.” These last words struck me so suddenly yet so peacefully, that I then felt a great grieving for the man.

But then there was also another feeling too. The reason I came to see him in the first place. “Um excuse me sir, but I was wondering,” “Why you keep having unwelcoming dreams, if there’s a meaning to all this?” interrupted Gwenllian. “I can see it growing bigger in your eyes, this is the reason you came to find me, am I not correct?” “Yes sir, you’re correct.” I said. I felt uneasy, as if a hundred eyes were looking at me. “You must find the moon runes,” he said. “They are spread out in different parts of the Pearl River Delta. When you have another uncomfortable dream, don’t try to conceal it in the darkest corner of your brain. Use it to guide you to the second Rune. You were chosen out of a line of Moon Hunters to finish the task they’ve been trying to finish for hundreds of years.”

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Fiction: Group 3

“That’s why she went missing, isn’t it sir?” He didn’t seem to hear me as he walked towards a classic mahogany table sitting in a corner of his ‘den’. He turned back to me and said “Take this, you’ll need it,” as he handed me a small stone the size of my fist. “This is the first moon rune, it has a riddle concealed in it. Only a true Moon Hunter can find the hidden riddle.

The day swiftly changed to night as I crossed a bridge swaying restless on two ends of a tenebrous abyss. I let out a shriek as one plank of decaying wood plunged down into the depth bellow. It hit a jagged rock with a loud ‘snap’ as it split in two. Plucking up my courage I walked on, perturbed and anxious at the thought of what lay ahead.

“C’mon you stupid stone, tell me where the second rune is, I’ve been looking for it for days, weeks, months!” I knew talking to it wouldn’t get me far so I wandered to the river to collect some fresh water to fill my water bottle. Its cool, refreshing taste quenched my thirst as I gulped it down in one, big go. Then I sat down and took a restful afternoon nap on the side of a massive, colossal oak tree.

I was in a sunless cave nothing like Gwenllian’s or any I’ve ever been too. A dim shadow shifted towards me as a cold, wintry breeze struck the cave entrance with a great “whoosh”. The dark shadow came closer, closer and closer, that you could almost even smell it. “You seek the second moon rune,” a hushed voice said. “Use the first rune…”

I woke as a large swallow perched on a branch sang a severely irritating song that sent the blood rushing towards my head. “Go, scram!” I shouted, but the bird wouldn’t budge. I looked deep into it’s eyes. It’s soul reflected mine, agitated and weak, with a strong desire for something. I felt a spirited feeling as I reached into my pocket and found the stone glowing with distinct, lurid golden handwriting reading “The second can be found afar, up so high and in the stars, when iciness comes and warmness goes, where the light can align when the darkness goes.” The riddle perplexed me while I read it over and over again, the words like a chasm, with nowhere except a voluminous, unlighted depth down below.

Then it hit me. What if it meant that the stone was found in a cave up in a mountain (considerably Tai Mo Shan as it’s the tallest in Hong Kong) and could only be found if the moon aligned with something? Maybe the moon aligning with the Aldabaran star! That’s it I thought. The moon would align with Aldabaran on Dec 8th according to my moon chart. That’s today I remembered. I quickly gathered my trusty rucksack and headed towards Tai Mo Shan.

“Please sir, may I have some food?” Nathaniel ambled away as the man wacked the door closed in his face. “Go home and never come back!” he yelled. Looks like I just have to keep scavenging the mountain Nathaniel thought. His thoughts were interrupted as a large swallow swooped down from nowhere and perched on the rusty, discoloured gate of the house. “You’re a pretty bird,” Nathaniel exclaimed, “Very pretty indeed.” It’s pearly eyes gazed down on him as he took one cautious step towards it. The bird miraculously didn’t budge. It stood there, eyeing him warily. Then it flew to a nearby tree and started pecking at it as if it wanted Nathaniel to obtain something. “What is it little guy?” he said. He started towards the tremendous oak tree and with a rapid blow of his axe, took a low-lying branch off. Out came a beaded bag and a rugged piece of parchment with words written with a jet-black ink saying “Enclosed in this bag I leave you the first and second moon runes I’ve found. Use the riddles to find the rest.”

Fiction: Group 3

Megan Lee Harrow International School Hong Kong, Stranger, Ella - 12, Fiction: Group 3

egan looked out through the glass of the shop, the hot and moist steam calming her. The glass felt cold against her skin, and she looked out onto the empty road. The savoury aroma filled her mind: chives, soya, chicken, and the most delicious broth. The kitchen; in particular

had a lot of sun coming through. She could feel the light’s attempt to puncture the window, and fill the kitchen in warmth, but it was made in vain. Her mind at rest, she turned around and held a delicate dumpling parcel in her fingers. With no filling inside, it was basically a shell. She wasn’t very good at cooking yet, and decided to get someone who had years of skill and dedication. She called for her dad, and he completed the dumpling for her. They then had this moment of silence, and they glared at each other. “Father, what’s wrong?” Her soprano voice cut through the air. He gave Megan a crooked smile and softly uttered “Nothing. It’s just, your mother. She would’ve been so proud, Megan. You don’t have to do-“ “Yes. Yes I do.” She interrupted. “This is what you made, father. No university degree will ever mean more to me than this. This may seem like just a store, but it’s what I have, it’s what I love.” Her father looked hurt for a second, then forced through a smile. “You’re just like your dad. So stubborn.” Megan walked to the pavement of the Cotai Strip, and tried to give out pamphlets advertising the store. Huge, towering hotels crowded her, each competing for the best reviews. She placed herself at the crossroads of two hotel entrances. “It’s the home of Macau’s best dumplings! Customer satisfaction guaranteed!” she called out, proud and brightly. The people gave her threatening glances, and they quickened their pace as they passed her. They’re monsters, she thought. With their heavy briefcases, and hotel lairs. She remembered what her dad told her, about the people changing. They no longer were patient and warm, but rushed a lot. These people did not enjoy the simple things in life, but were agitated and caught up within their jobs. The sun had gone to bed, and replaced with a lazy drizzle. Megan walked past the skyscrapers and highways back to her comfortable and cosy home. She was annoyed, and she went for an afternoon nap to ease her frustration. 30 years earlier, before Megan was born: “Greetings, greetings, come in! There’s space!” Megan’s mother called, ushering the guests into the shop. They were extremely eager, as if it was a black Friday sale. Megan’s father began cooking the dumplings as best as he could. The store was packed with people and laughter. The bicycle delivering the fish arrived, and was sent to the kitchen. It was fresh from nearby waters, and he started to prepare the local delicacy. “Susan, tell the guests that dinner may take a bit longer. There’s so many tonight!” he called out. His wife agreed and told the patient people. They nodded, as if they were obedient dogs. “They are fine, John. There is time.” she replied. Dinner was served to the many excited faces. There were spring rolls, choy sum, stir-fries, chicken noodles, and their speciality: steamed dumplings. It was a hearty meal to be remembered. The comments included “divine” and “food fit for a king”, and John Lee felt the pride coming through. His shop was the most famous in Macau! After most of the customers had finished, Susan and John lead them to the door. Outside, cascading hills of rich green shone brilliantly in the moonlight. Crickets were chirping, singing a song of love. The everlasting sky continued as far as they could see, clear as crystal. It was spectacular. The people gave their thanks, and left in small cars and bikes. The couple smiled gently and stared out into the pristine horizon.

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Fiction: Group 3

Present day: “Dad. It’s just no use. They just won’t come.” Megan complained, sipping at her noodle soup. John looked up at his daughter. “Eat your wontons, Megan. Perhaps tomorrow will be better.” Megan thought her father was too optimistic. “Why so sad, Megan? I thought this is what you wanted- to run the store.” Megan sighed and muttered, “I know, of course I do. It’s just frustrating seeing this place plummeting.” John stood up to pour out the tea as his daughter continued. “It’s not even out fault, father. They just aren’t the same, the people. I remember when I was four, and Nai Nai took me to the promenade for afternoon tea. The people were polite, just like the tradition has always been. We had cream puffs, and almond cookies, and the waiters always remembered their “please” and “thank-yous”. The people were laid-back, frolicking with their families. All was well. But now, nothing seems right. I see a link, dad. The more buildings getting built, the worst the people get. It’s not fair, and I hate it!” A moment of silence was held for Megan to calm down. John studied the sadness in her expression. Her eyes were heavy, brimming with warm salty tears. He came round to her and placed his feeble hand onto her shoulder. He comforted Megan with an understanding heart. Her father’s eyes twinkled, and a flash of hope spread across his face. “You know, Megan, you should get used to all this change. It could be for the best.” Megan first rejected this idea. Yet, inside she knew it was the honest truth. Of course she never wanted it to be, not in a million years. How could she ever be successful in this new world? Her heavy heart began to understand that nothing in Macau would ever be the same again. The Pearl River delta was changing, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Fiction: Group 3

Pursuing the Star Flower Harrow International School Hong Kong, Swan, Cooper - 12, Fiction: Group 3

t was a balmy day in the middle of nowhere by the Pearl River and all you could see was lush green forest for miles and miles, fresh morning dew dripping off the leaves of trees, and bushes filled with blooming, efflorescence flowers. All you could hear was the breath taking morning bird songs, the

muffled squeals of puppies wanting their mothers and the deep growls of the older dogs going for a morning hunt. This was the home of the Lao Ying (Eagle) Tribe. “My kill!” whispered Jade as he and his hunting patrol stalked closer to a hare. Jade was a beautiful Rhodesian Ridgeback with hazelnut eyes and big floppy ears. The soft pad of their paw steps was as quiet as the hare itself. The plan was for Mace, a huge German shepherd, to prowl around one side of the clearing without disturbing the hare and for Snail, a rather large Bulldog and Jades best friend, to slink around the other side, again without disturbing the hare but both of them creeping closer and closer until Jade could make the kill. Jade would go straight through the middle with the speed of a falcon and slay the hare. If they didn’t make the kill and went home empty-handed this would be very discouraging, especially because they were experiencing a drought, and everybody needed to keep healthy. Boy oh boy would the chief of their tribe, Boulder, be mad! Boulder was a menacing Rottweiler with big yellow teeth, matted fur and paws the size of a plate. His eyes were half ice blue and half bright red! Nobody messed with Boulder! Nobody liked him either because everybody suspected him of killing the leader of the tribe before him because he was so power hungry! They closed in on the enticing hare with saliva dripping from their jaws in anticipation of the kill… Snap! That was the sound of the hare’s neck when Jade made the kill. “Nice kill.” Snail yapped happily. “Thanks,” grunted Jade through a mouthful of fur. When they got back to camp Boulder was very happy indeed because they had brought back the hare that Jade had killed, as well as a plump bird that Snail had miraculously caught with a tremendous leap into a tree and Mace had managed to snap up a couple of mice. The tribe feasted well that night but would it last? When will this drought finally end? Jade said to himself. It had been three months since the last rainfall maybe more and everybody was getting weaker and weaker and weaker. They couldn’t survive for much longer without food or fresh water. He snuggled up in his nest and went to sleep. “Wake up,” murmured a voice in his ear. Jade thought it was Snail but when he opened his eyes it was a dog he had never seen before. He immediately figured out who it was because he remembered the stories his mum told him when he was just a puppy. Just before he had been born the leader of the tribe was a gentle but stern golden retriever that everybody loved. His name was Rocky. “I have been sent by Lightning, the god of dogs, to tell you that the only way to stop this drought is to go to the great city, Hong Kong and find the star flower which is only to be found in Hong Kong. Now listen to me Jade, it will be a long journey and when you get there you will encounter things you have never seen before. There will probably be someone guarding it as well. It is very rare. When you come back you must squeeze a few drops of it on to my grave. You will then have to wait for a day or two. Only then will the drought stop.” “I’m not sure I can do this,” Jade whined. “I trust you,” Rocky said, “ Have faith in yourself that you can do it!” “OK. I’ll try,” Jade said in a more confident tone. I must remember the star flower! Jade said to himself. He turned to ask Rocky what it looked like but he had already faded away. Never mind, I’ll figure it out when I get there. And with that he went back to sleep.

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Fiction: Group 3

When he woke up he immediately started to get ready for the trip. He decided he would only tell Snail about the dream. He didn’t want a big commotion and he felt he could trust Snail not to tell anyone. After all he was his best friend. He padded over to his friends nest and shook him gently awake. “Wha… hun… who’s there?” Snail said whilst lazily swiping his paws at an imaginary attacker. “Wake up silly! It’s just me!” Jade chuckled. “Oh. Right…” he said in an embarrassed tone. “There is something really important that I have to tell you. Last night I had a dream about Rocky, the tribe leader before… before… Boulder,” Jade spat in disgust. “ Anyway he told me that I had to go all the way to Hong Kong.” “Hong Kong!” Snail exclaimed. “Shhs, keep your voice down I don’t want everybody to know about the trip. But yes, Hong Kong. And he told me to find the star flower which only exists in HK. I was wondering if you could come with me? But don’t feel obligated to come it’s just I would like someone with me.” “Are you kidding me? Of course I’ll come!” Snail said enthusiastically. “Well we better start getting ready!” And of they went chatting about the trip. One week later they were ready to go. They waited until night time to set off and from the moment they left the boundaries they were scared and excited at the things they might encounter throughout the journey. They told themselves to stop fussing and just deal with whatever came at them. For the first few weeks nothing really interesting happened and they didn’t see anything that they hadn’t seen before except for a few oddly shaped plants until one day they came across an absolutely torn apart camp. As soon as they saw it they realized there was something dangerous in this part of the forest. There was eerie silence for a few minutes. Suddenly the forest was alive with action! There were tigers everywhere running out of the mist and gloom, jumping out of trees! There were just so many! Jade and Snail sprinted off and the chase began. They were whipping past trees and jumping over logs trying desperately to shake the tigers off. They circled around and came back into the camp and hid under a torn bush and held their breaths. They could hear the panting of the tigers’ breath and the big cats growling as they stalked the camp looking for their pray. Eventually after about 10 minutes of menacingly probing around the camp the tigers disappeared. Jade and Snail knew this was their big chance. They took off in to the wilderness and the tigers were never to be seen again. Finally after two weeks of gruesome and tiring trekking through the Chinese mountains and forests they reached the city of Hong Kong. They had survived on barely anything but mice and a few drinks of water in streams. What they saw was absolutely amazing. There were huge metal teeth rising out from the ground that were so tall they disappeared into the clouds. “Stay close,” murmured Jade. They continued slinking in the shadows until they reached a huge field on a mountain. Next to that mountain was a monolithic white building that read Harrow International School Hong Kong. They thought that the people inside it could help them find the star flower. When they got to it little two legged beasts that had funny blue coats chased them off. They retreated back to the safety of the mountains. They emerged into a beautiful field with flowers of every color, shape and size. They spotted a yellow flower as bright as the sun that looked like a star. “That’s it!” whispered a voice in Jades head. It was Rocky guiding him! Jade raced over to the flower and carefully plucked it from the ground. “Finally!” Snail shouted in a relieved tone. “ We have the star flower! Let’s go.” When they got back to camp, Jade and Snail raced over to Rockys grave and squeezed the drops on to it. After that, they went back to the camp. “Where have you been?” Jades mother, Snow, exclaimed. “Saving the tribe!” Jade countered. “Well, we drove off Boulder. He was just too crazy!” Jade breathed a huge sigh of relief and went to sleep.

Fiction: Group 3

When everybody woke up in the morning the drought was gone and the streams were filled with water. There were celebrations everywhere. “We need a new leader and king and it should be Jade for his amazing journey to save us from the drought!” exclaimed the elder, Hunt. “Yes!” chanted the tribe. “ Long live the KING!”

Fiction: Group 3

Barbaric Black Harrow International School Hong Kong, Wang, Sally - 12, Fiction: Group 3

t was pitch black. Darkness surrounded him like a terrified beast crawling around with its menacing shadow.

Gradually, he opened his eyes. It was so hard to see because everything was so gloomy and sulky. The air was as dry as a scorching desert, wasps and bees were everywhere, buzzing and humming around him, like an unstoppable army. There were no living things except him and the bugs: no plants, no animals, and definitely no water. He yawned his eyes clenching together as brown, dusty air flowed in and out, in and out, through his lungs. This is Felix Lockers, a young chemist who has just spread his fame through the little town of Aldershot. He was very pale, and sat very still with a feel of intensity. Big bronze locks chained around his body, with its colours fading away. The door opened. Finally, a shaft of bright light came in, lighting the whole room up. Like a knife piercing his eyes. In front of him, stood a huge figure with a thick black moustache, an extremely “big” body with muscular arms and a black cloth wrapped around half of his face. He stood in a spine-chilling way and stared down at the chemist with his empty, vacant eyes. The chemist began to shiver, with his hand shaking frantically, and his face turning paler and paler. Poor Felix didn’t have a single clue about what was going on, his teeth clattered as he tried hard to say something. “Um, s-i—r, I, a, m, Felix Loc-ke-rs, a chemist from Aldershot. Please don’t hurt me, I didn’t do anything...” The man looked at Felix with fierceness, he then muttered, “So, you are zis Jimmy Porttown, da scientist from Al-do-shot?” Felix was confused and muddled, why does this man want him? Who is he anyway? And where am I? Why am I locked? Am I a prisoner? Questions came flooding back to him like a flowing river. “No sir, I’m not Jimmy Porttown.” Felix stated clearly. Felix knew Dr Porttown from Aldershot, he waas the most famous chemist in our state, and everybody knew him. The hairy man stared curiously at Felix, and then he walked around him several times. “I see.” He mumbled suspiciously after crunching and digesting a rather large piece of chocolate biscuit. The chemist’s stomach began to churn, like a whooshing washing machine. He looked at the food with great desire, with his jaw opened, he begged the man if he could have something to eat. Slowly, the man seemed to have understood him. He turned around, shouted something, and he unlocked the big chains that wrapped around the chemist. After some time, a tiny man came running in, his sweat running down his cheeks as he went. He carried a simple basket, made out of straws and wood. The little man bowed to the other man politely, after handing him the basket. The man then turned to me and shoved the basket into my hands. “Thank you very much.” “No need to say fanx, just eat your food la!” He said dismissively. Felix started stuffing chunks of food into his dry mouth-he hadn’t eaten for days!

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Fiction: Group 3

There were hard-boiled eggs, some biscuits with raisins, and a bowl of corns and nuts. It wasn’t that delicious of course, to an English man who would rather prefer a nice cup of tea and some fries. But to Felix, it was heaven. He has never tasted something like this in weeks, or even months. After he had finished the food, and cleaning the bits of food with his tongue. He handed the basket back to the man and thanked him again. The man made a sign to the little man to take it away and lead Felix to another room (or cave) next to the one just now. In this room, it seemed like a garage or storage room to Felix; it had ships and boats with tilted sides, and on them, they were flashy flags and some boxes of gold shining like the light of the last full moon. The man gestured him to sit down on a mat, so Felix did as he was told. A few minutes later, a girl arrived. “Good evening sir,” the girl said timidly, “I’m Yue Lin and this is my father, Ho Zun Lin. Please don’t be afraid of my father, he acts cruel, but… he’s actually quite caring. Maybe you already noticed, but we have mistaken you for another chemist, Jimmy Porttown. We um…”she stopped and suddenly looked red, almost embarrassed. “Please continue.” Felix encouraged her. She looked down, and uttered, “We were going to kidnap him you know. But we’ve accidentally kidnapped you, I’m very sorry. Uh-” The chemist was confused and angry, but he tried to calm himself down. “Why would you want to kidnap such a man like Jimmy Porttown? Just tell me why?” “I… Because we want him to make us a special kind of formula, you know, the one when you can design formidable weapons. And Dr Jimmy Porttown has just invented something like that. We are pirates on sea. There are many families of pirates, and we always battle for the winner every year, we don’t want to lose again.” Felix nodded. “So,” Yue Lin peered at him with hope, “Will you help us?” “What? To make the secret formula?” “Yes sir. My father promises to send you back when you’re finished. Please. It’s our only hope. If we lose again this year, my father’s sea business won’t last very long.” Felix pondered about the pros and cons, and if it was worth it. At last, he decided to do it, not only because he felt sorry for the girl, but also because he was excited to discover this “wonderful” place himself. “Yes, I will help you.” Her face lit up. Like the beautiful candles people use as Christmas decorations back in England. She turned around to her father, and told him excitedly. “Dr Felix! Dr Felix! Here here!” shouted Yue Lin happily. She threw a freshly collected banana onto his hands. He peeled it off, consuming it all in one bite. It was luscious. Felix has been with the Lins for three months now. During the three months, not counting the negative sides (which was the time when he nearly got bitten by a cruel crocodile), he had experienced pretty amazing things, totally the opposite from his time back in England. They trusted him greatly; even Yue Lin’s father greeted him warmly in the mornings. They showed the chemist all their ancient treasures from their ancestors: one was a pearl necklace that Yue Lin’s grandmother made for her on her 4th birthday, using fresh white pearls collected from the river. One was a big bronze plate, with powerful Chinese dragons printed onto its golden side. But Felix’s favourite one was a delicate piccolo with miniature holes on it. It was silver with black strips, and an endearing parrot drawn on its bottom. Then one day, when he finished making the formula, he was told to pack his stuff and get ready to go home. He was lead out towards the gaping mouth of the cave. In front of him, was a sea of green, decorated with red, pink, and amber sparkles. Trees were everywhere; below the meadow, over the bridge, and beneath the mango bushes. Everywhere. Over the trees, there was a path made out of pebbles and precious stones, leading to a vast lake that was surrounded by fat moss and spiky leaves. The lake itself was gorgeous, and it sparkled like pretty little diamonds.

Fiction: Group 3

“Have you heard of the myth of the Ching Win dragon?” asked Yue Lin as she was skipping through the pebble path. “No, I haven’t.” “Well, thousands of years ago, a humongous dragon with teeth as big as wine bottles lived in these cave. He is the famous Ching Win dragon. Every day, no matter if it was raining…” she carried on with her story, pointing at different places as she spoke. He knew at once that he wasn’t ready to leave. This place, the people had attracted him greatly. Four years, he spent there, exploring and discovering all the amazing things. Listening to Yue Lin’s wonderful myths, joining them with the battles on sea, victory! When he was about to return home, all the Lins surrounded him, Ho Zun Lin was giving him pats on his shoulders, Yue Lin’s mother was giving him a special necklace, and Yue Lin, she hugged the chemist tearfully, asking him to come back and visit them someday. So off the great chemist went, sailing on his boat with a tilted side…

Fiction: Group 3

Escape Harrow International School Hong Kong, Ying, Amberly - 13, Fiction: Group 3

he roof shook as thunder and lightning collided with each other. The rain pitter-pattered against the corrugated roof of the dismal factory on the outskirts of Guang Dong, over-looking the Pearl River Delta. Xian Zhong wiped the sweat off her brow, even though the weather conditions that

day were described as chilly. The factory manager that day, had barked out orders for an extra shipment of toys in time for the holiday rush, or else Xian Zhong and the other workers would be punished severely for “lack of work done”. Xian Zhong yelped at the sudden stab of pain in her left thumb. She looked down and witnessed droplets of blood slowly dripping to the floor, staining it red. She looked for the cause of pain and saw, a sewing needle lying on the floor covered in blood. Xian Zhong had been working for 6 hours that day, sewing the eyes of the teddy bear to its body. It was tiring work and only paid minimum wage, but it supported her family enough to barely afford food, let alone drink. The air was damp with sweat, the floor mussed with pee and blood from those who were new to the factory and just couldn’t hold it in, and handle the immense pressure of manufacturing the teddy bears in time for the holiday rush. The factory was said to be owned by a mysterious man, who visited every weekend, at least what they thought was a weekend, it was hard to keep track of time in that factory. He was rumoured to be a powerful drug lord in that part of the province, however, it was never proved since he never showed his face to the workers or anyone in the factory, not even the factory manager. It was once rumoured that a worker had accidently cut open one teddy bear and found, hidden in the white fluff of the teddy bear, a small air tight white brick inside. The last they remembered of that man was him being dragged, kicking and screaming from the worker’s hall, into the manager’s office. He never emerged again, except for a big black duffel bag 2 men were clutching several hours later. Xian Zhong was a curious girl for her age,(14) she always liked to discover things along the river next to her school, until she was pulled out because expenses were too high and her family just couldn’t support her, so instead, she chose to work in the factory, barely getting to go home and spend time with her family, who was the main reason she had worked in the factory anyways. Even though she was a curious girl under certain circumstances, she knew not, to snoop around in that particular factory, for fear of getting caught, or even worse, punished. As she crouched down to retrieve the cause of her pain, the bloody needle, she saw 3 men with guns, march out of the office, carrying a duffel bag full of teddy bears. “That’s odd!”, thought Xian Zhong, the teddy bears (shipments) were normally transported from the loading docks, in big trucks to who knows where? They never usually moved such a small amount of teddy bears from the factory. And then, something red and paper-like fluttered to the ground from an open crack in the bag, Xian Zhong’s heart skipped a beat. It was a 20 dollar note. Xian Zhong would’ve had to work 8 hours for a full week to earn that kind of money! Her consciousness told her not to take it, but her heart told her otherwise. She needed that money to buy medicine for her little brother who had had a high fever the other day, but her consciousness told her that it was wrong to steal money, even from such abusive and evil people. As she contemplated her dilemma, the rain continued to pound hard against the roof, little drops of water dripping on the floor. Finally, after what felt like hours but could’ve been seconds, her mind had made a final decision. She stealthily crawled her way to the spot that the note lay, and picked it up, clutching it to her chest, and crawled back to her work station. She breathed a sigh of relief when she apparently got there without being caught.

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Fiction: Group 3

Xian Zhong tucked the note into her hassled pocket, and continued to work. Several hours later, she had reached her breaking point of tiredness, and dropped the needle without realizing. When she had got her bearings again, she realized with sudden horror that the needle had caught on a thread in the teddy bear, and couldn’t be pulled out. She pulled, and pulled, and pulled but to no avail. Xian Zhong gave one final tug, when RIIIPP, the stomach of the teddy bear split open. Her voice got stuck in her throat, her blood ran cold, her feet rooted to the ground. Xian Zhong cautiously looked around and nearly sighed with relief that no one had noticed her little blunder. The girl could see a little corner of plastic sticking out of all that fluff, and tilted her head with confusion. Xian Zhong picked apart the fluff and glimpsed with horror, at a small, white, air-tight brick hidden in the mound of fluff. Xian Zhong started to panic, as she remembered what had “supposedly’ once happened to a worker who had discovered such a thing. Her first thought was to patch the teddy bear up, and continue on as she had, without ever knowing there were little bricks of cocaine smuggled in the teddy bears, but her mind got the better of her. “I should go to the police, hand in the evidence, and get the reward in a fair way!”, thought Xian Zhong. The gears in her head started to turn, and with dawning realization, she knew that she had to do the right thing, and hand in the evidence to the police. “How on earth am I going to get out?”, contemplated Xian Zhong. 4 guard dogs in the north, west, south, and east side of the compound guarded the whole area/ factory. There were always guards patrolling the compound, with AK47’s, and top of the line electric wiring/ fence system. The workers had always wondered why such a low profile factory would need to be guarded that heavily, when it was only a factory that produced teddy bears. It would be near impossible to escape un-scathed. Some people might ponder to just normally walk out when Xian Zhong’s shift ended, but little did they know, that not ONLY was the factory guarded, the workers were searched extremely thoroughly after the end of each shift. They were prodded, probed, and poked. There was no way Xian Zhong could’ve smuggled out the teddy bear. And, all of a sudden, Xian Zhong had a flash of inspiration, she could crawl under the fence and jump into the river! She would need some fence cutters, but she could just steal them from the shed. Xian Zhong whipped her head back at a sudden lash of noise. Several workers were crowded around a workstation, guards were suspiciously creeping forward, now was her chance, she didn’t care what had happened, this was her chance. She hurriedly tip toed to the exit, then burst into fresh air, well, at least fresh compared to the damp, stinky air of the factory, In fact, the air was thick with pollution and smoke, mingling with a smell of decay and fish. The river rushed white and green in the current, rapidly lapping up against the shore, slowly eroding away the dirt and rock. Xian Zhong wasn’t safe yet, she was still trapped by electrical wiring and the guards patrolling the front of the factory, the shed was to her left when, all of the sudden, she felt her feet get damp with something sticky. She chanced a glance and looked down, and to her dismay and disgust, there was slimy, white, drool dripping down her shoe, well, what was left of her shoe. Xian Zhong’s family couldn’t afford enough to buy her new shoes, and her brother had gotten sick, so of course her shoes would go to the bottom of her family’s priorities, perhaps forgotten. Xian Zhong felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, goose bumps started to prickle on her arms, her back stood ram-rod straight. There was a low growling sound emitting from the corner to her right. She turned and came face to face with a Doberman, foam gushing out of the side of its mouth. The fur on the back of its body prickled up, its body transformed into a crouching position, ready to attack.

Fiction: Group 3

By a stroke of luck, a horn blared from the front of the factory, the dog’s ears pricked up, and it ran towards the source. Xian Zhong retrieved the fence cutters, and escaped to freedom, justice, liberty and well-earned happiness.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Heep Yunn School, Lam, Kristy - 14, Fiction: Group 3

herever the river flows, the water goes. People come, people go, but gone are never the essence of hard work and perseverance along the river of prosperity and the land of fertility.

Born and raised in Macau, like many of his age, Jim gave up school after graduating from high school and worked in a Casino, simply because it had long been perceived as a rather profitable job. His work was typical, not much excitement involved ─ the shuffling decks of cards, operating of the slots machines, monitoring the customers, handling the bets ─ routine tasks. After the first year in the casino, he wondered what if he had to do it for life, say 40 more years. “I wanted a change,” he mumbled, eyes filled with determination. Perhaps, fate was in his hands. Perhaps, it would be now or never. Jim ended up quitting his casino job and started to be a chef in a traditional Chinese restaurant. He dreamt that he could pick up cooking and start a little business. However, being a cook wasn’t as easy as he thought. Originally, he imagined wearing a tall white hat, slicing meat as nicely and quickly as a machine, stylishly flipping woks with the flick of my wrists. “Isn’t that what TV cooks do?” He thought. Rosy the picture seemed, yet, in his first few weeks, he didn’t even get near the stove. As the old saying goes, “No pain no gain.” It was sad but true: For the grain comes with pain and the grain goes with the fame. Despite the fact that he wasn’t as well paid, he enjoyed challenges, learning from mistakes and the satisfaction of creating some good food from scratch. Jim was determined to overcome all of the challenges ─ to better his cooking skills, enjoy life in the kitchen, invent new recipes and conjure delicious, mouth watering dishes. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always go smooth and straight. The restaurant had to close when the land had to be cleared up for a new casino. Rent was impossible to pay and the owner was left with no option but to lay Jim off. Luckily, Jim had never forgotten his dream of his first bucket of gold: His first business that was to be set under his feet; His first trail on this piece of fertile land. This was when he made the second decision to use his savings to open up a restaurant, but not in Macau. Instead, he turned to other shimmering coast of the river. It took Jim another year to get the legal stuff and licenses done. After settling down, he quickly went out to seek a location for the restaurant. It turned out to be much harder than he thought. In the end, he found a tiny location amongst the shabby buildings of Sham Shui Po, one of the poorest districts in Hong Kong, the size was not even close to half the area of the restaurant he previously worked for. Even though the environment around him changed, the heart of fire, the young man with big dreams stayed the same, insisting on selling his favourite food ─ dim sum. However, business ran low for the first few months. That was when he finally doubted his choices. “Have I been too impulsive? Should I play safe being the same old casino worker?” These questions baffled and confused him, but there was no turning back. At that time, most of his savings were already spent on the expenses of the restaurant and he could barely afford paying his two staff. His worries never vanished especially when he was left alone as his two staff resigned. There were periods of depression and pessimistic thoughts when Jim sat in his empty restaurant in sorrow. However, when he reminisced his past, sitting on poker tables in casinos, he realized that he was already fortunate to have restaurants, be able to commit to something he truly loved. “There will never be success without trying.” Jim thought as he started to try cutting costs, lowering selling prices, handing out leaflets. He aimed at staying modest, friendly and warm, with making customers happy as his main goal. Despite the changes in the neighbourhood, his aspiration never wavered. Though Jim was greatly challenged financially and wearied physically, he never gave up. He didn’t mind waking up early,

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Fiction: Group 3

buying fresh ingredients from the markets, going back to the restaurant to prepare food, cook, serve, clean and manage the cashier during the day. He also devoted most of his leisure time to exploring different food cultures by reading cook books and inventing new recipes. He then started to cook fusion dim-sum, preserving traditional tastes, while adding in his own style, hoping to appeal to both the young and old. With his persistence, slowly and steadily, the restaurant gained some regular customers and that circle gradually built. Finally, he could balance the profit and expenses and started to earn some money. On one typical day, a western man in a nice tuxedo, neatly combed hair came in and ordered most of the dim sum. Jim rarely had foreign customers, but he still treated him as any other usual customer, being friendly and helpful, cooking with passion. The man eventually left with a generous tip on the table and a wide grin on his face. A few days later, the same man, now with a camera crew came in, expressing that he would like to interview him. “Normally, I rarely have Chinese food because it wasn’t my cup of tea. However, your dim sum completely changed my views towards Chinese cuisine. You not only offer high quality fresh food at a low price, but also stepped the game up, making your own twists in a local delicacies, combining creativity and traditional flavours, while providing good service. Everything was perfect and the food especially was to die for.” This was the point of change. Years after, Jim’s restaurant became one of the largest food chains in Hong Kong, renowned for its scrumptious food and top-class service, constantly expanding its business. On the opening day of his first restaurant in Shenzhen, a milestone of Jim’s business, Jim stood modestly on stage as he made his opening speech “People often ask me, what the key to success is? I believe that there is never a definite answer, but one thing’s for sure: We have to combine external factors with personal effort. Living in the fastest developing and most dynamic region in China, the Pearl River Delta has provided me countless opportunities as I pursue my dream. It is a place where East meets west, fostering creativity and innovation. We also need personal effort: an optimistic attitude, the willingness to attempt, the courage to battle obstacles, the determination to never give up and a modest heart – staying true, being you yourself, no matter how the world around you revolves.” As the crowd erupted into roars of applause, Jim scanned his surroundings, he saw his new seaside restaurant, the stunning view of the promenade, along the Pearl River. Waves splashed into the shore, rhythmically, one by one. The music of the sea was soothing as ever, staring at the rippling water, the unique patterns that seem to make up the sea, pieces of memories flashed back. Jim remembered daydreaming in the casino, wondering about his future while shuffling decks of cards; he recalled learning to cook in the traditional Chinese restaurant where he spent days and night polishing up his cooking skills; he thought about his hopelessness when he was alone in his small restaurants, in the middle of an unfamiliar place. All his blood and sweat, alongside the once devastated mind rushed into his mind. Yet, when a huge wave crashed into the shore, they all seem to have vanished, snapping Jim back to reality. Jim continued his speech and said ‘I hope you all can dare dream big and dare make changes too. Even me, an ordinary worker in the casino can pursue his dreams and strive towards his goal, it all comes down to faith and determination. Miracles do happen with hard work when you believe…” Continuous loud claps filled the air and this was when Jim saw the man in tuxedo nodding with approval. Jim smiled genuinely, as he declared the opening of his restaurant. We often look at a flourishing place, such as Pearl River Delta, by counting its GDP, looking at its grand infrastructure and the stock market. But it’s not only about the money, the international status, the skyscrapers. What matters has always been the stories behind: the trials and tears; the boiled blood and toiled minds. Ultimately, with countless unique stories, including that of Jim’s, yours and mine, are the pieces to the whole jigsaw puzzle. We, the people are the ones that created the prosperity of Pearl River Delta.

Fiction: Group 3

The Happy Pearl Heep Yunn School, Sum, Natalie - 14, Fiction: Group 3

ohnny groaned, kicking off his sheets and staring out of the little window. He was almost sure that he spotted the shimmering outline of the Shenzhen airport terminal. The sun was already setting; blazing lights both red purple and pink, like a rainbow. How Johnny wished after 10 years, he could forget the

past and be happy that he is now home, but then a voice brought him back to reality. It said,” Welcome back home, Mr. Tong” Johnny was scanning the crowd when an unfamiliar but stunningly attractive woman strode towards him. She was wearing a hot pink dress and a black leather jacket. All eyes turned to her as she walked in a graceful manner on her six- inch high heels towards him. “Welcome home, Johnny. I am Elaine, your father’s friend. Your father is having a meeting so he can’t pick you up but he would like to have dinner with you” Johnny stared at her, as if a blade had just pierced his body, sharp and painful, on one hand, he wondered why that she looked so much like her, his own mother, then another moment, he thought she was nothing compared to her. Biting his lip, he winced as he tried to suppress the memories. It was evening as the car sped along the broad roads of North Ring Highway. Johnny gazed as he passed the rows upon rows of buildings. In the distance he could see Pearl River with its waves shimmering under the moonlight. He couldn’t help but recall the times when he was small, when she pointed to her the tales of the Pearl River Delta, how Shen Zhen was just a small fishing village, and things were so different at that time… he felt dizzy, he rummaged in his bag and found the bottle of anti-depression pills and gulped down a generous handful, hoping the pain would subside. His father was already waiting for him as he entered the dining hall, but as he walked towards his seat at the other end of the table he saw someone sitting next to his father. It was the woman in the pink dress with shiny black hair that he instantly recognized as Elaine. It was nothing strange as his father often invited friends of his to dine. ‘Welcome home, son. This is Elaine, you stepmother’ His father stood up, introducing the lady. It felt like a bomb had just dropped on Johnny’s head, His head ached again, harder this time; the pain was like needles this time, reminding him of the past. ‘Mother?’ He thought. He opened his mouth to scream but no words came out. Gritting his teeth, he settled himself down on his chair in a stiff position along with his new family. Dinner was awful. Not that the food wasn’t delicious, but he just couldn’t pick up his fork, especially when his father and ‘mother’ were giggling and flirting at the other end. Johnny watched as his ‘mother’ made some lame joke about how Hello Kitty died since it didn’t have a mouth. His father laughed and stared as his cheeks slowly turned rosy pink. Johnny’s eyes blazed with rage. His father seemed to have forgotten everything that happened 10 years ago, and now he was laughing and flirting with this woman he met an hour ago known as his stepmother. Their laughs hit him like blades of wind, each one sharper than the last, slowly tearing him to pieces. “He was angry, no he was hurt”, he thought. He couldn’t seem to forget the only happy times in his life when his real mother had played with him, sang with him, read to him till he fell asleep. The memories seemed to have rushed back now, filling his mind like a waterfall. He couldn’t bear to see those shatter. He couldn’t forget those memories, he couldn’t let them fade. As their laughter rang through the hall, their voices were like gusts of wind, raging at him. Finally, he could bear it no longer. He raised the glass of red wine, it was a fine glass of 2006 Chateau, and brought it down with a crash, It made a terrible sound, and his ‘parents’, stunned, looked at him in surprise. Then the words came out of him,’ you traitor! She will never be my mother never!’ He felt his body boiling with heat like a bomb had just exploded inside him, but then he was clenching his fists so hard that he saw bright red drops dripping from the table, but he felt nothing only anger and hate. He could hear his parents calling him in the distance, but he ignored it and stormed out of the room. His head boiled as he slammed his bedroom door shut. He leaned on the door, letting the pain sink in, his hands now covered in bright red with little shiny bits sticking out, were nothing compared to the ache in his head and heart. He felt dizzy, painful and sad at the same time. He leaned his head back and saw the stickers which shone at night. He remembered they were given to him as a birthday present, how his mother smiled at him like an angel, protecting him from all dangers. He could never forget the pain when his mother walked out of the house, the look in her eyes, full of hate, as she pushed him down. Remembering this, Johnny’s heart jumped, His mind was a blur, the pain banged on his head. Suddenly he threw himself on the

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bed, and let the tears drown him. He cried so hard that his eyes ached badly until he could cry no more. ‘I should get a bandage’ he thought. Pushing the pain away, he fought his way to the window sill, where his first aid kit was. Clicking it open, he carefully removed the bits of shattered pieces of glass and bandaged his hand. As he was about to close the box, he noticed something at the bottom of the kit, a notebook. It was a plain red notebook with only one word on it. Xiang, his mother’s name. Though his heart ached since it reminded him of the memories, curiosity took over him and he carefully turned over the first page. It was his mother’s handwriting and it read, ’Dear Johnny’ His heart pounded at the sight of his name. His mother, the one who abandoned had something to sya to him. With shaking hands, he read on ‘My dear child, when you read this, I may be resting in another world. I am so sorry, Johnny, I never meant to hurt you or harm you, but reality gave me no choice. I was diagnosed with cancer a few months ago and the doctor said it was already incurable. Medication was the only way to reduce my pain, eventually; I will suffer from pain and die. At this point I am terrified, I had thought of your father, and of you and I could never bear to see your sad faces , watching me die, I want to remember you as the happy innocent you. Hence, I asked your father to give you a break from school, and travel with me along the Pearl, and then I shall leave you to wait for my doom. Your father opposed at first. He said he would stand with me forever, but when I begged him on behalf of you, saying and devastated you would be to see death’s true nature at such a young age, that you could never bear it. Hence, your father promised. Please do not blame him, my dear; it was because of my selfishness that he had done such a thing. And it is because of me that he is to live in agony, but when a day comes when he finds himself another woman whom he loves, do not stop him. For I shall never forgive myself if I was the one who robbed my husband of his eternal happiness. You as well, you are my pearl and I shall never let anything hurt you or, worry you trouble, Henceforth, I give you my notebook; to write down your worries and doubts each day, so you will always be a happy pearl’ Mum Johnny’s eyes were filled with tears as he finished the letter, He understood everything now. It was because of his parents’ love then his mother put herself in pain, it was for him that his mother left him, he understood now. He was the one who was bad, not his father, His father was brave, he found himself a new life. While, he was still stuck in the shadows. He stood up. He had a vision now; he had a plan for his future life. He shall carry the past with him by writing a story of his happiest trip, and he shall name it. New Tales of the Pearl River Delta.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta HKMA David Li Kwok Po College, Arunachalam, Aishwarya - 14, Fiction: Group 3

t was the 24th of November 1960. I was sitting in the bedroom while my mother was packing my belongings. These few years have been rough for us, ever since the Vietnamese War started. It had always been bombs dropping, aircraft soaring in the sky and soldiers marching. My father was one of the

soldiers. He would occasionally try to reach us or sometimes write. I’ve always seen my father as a great man. I often wished I could be like him, such bravery and confidence he held in his heart. I hope he comes home safely; I can’t wait to see him. “Bao, it’s time to go. Go put on your coat.” Mother ordered. I quickly rushed to the door with my coat on. The roads were barely passable, crowded as they were with vehicles and people. I held my mother’s hand as we reached the train station. Soldiers were loading weapons onto the cargo train. I clenched my mother’s hand tightly. We walked to the platform where the train was arriving, “Bao?” I looked at my mother’s face. Her face was dull, her lips were chapped and it wasn’t like the old Mother I knew. She had always been more joyful and carefree about everything. “Please promise me that you’ll take care of yourself and be a good boy.” I nodded. The train had arrived and it was my time to go. Mother brought me to my seat and she sat beside me. “Bao, write to me once you get there. Don’t bother your grandparents too much, and take care of them too. Your grandfather will be waiting for you once you reach the Pearl River Delta.” My mind wandered to that name. The train started to move, “Bao, take care. I’ll miss you a lot and I’m only doing this for your safety and your future. I love you, Bao.” As she spoke, tears were forming up in her eyes. “I love you too, Mother. Take care and I promise to write to you every month,” I said. Mother got off the train and kept her eyes on me until the train left the station. As houses passed by, my eyes slowly closed. I woke up with a sudden jolt; I rubbed my eyes to see a man staring at me. He was an old man wearing a sweet smile on his face and sweaters. Lots of sweaters. “Hello little boy, did you have a good nap?” he said. I stared at him with a blank face. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Here have this.” He said handing me a packet of biscuits. I kept staring at him. “C’mon have it, you must be hungry.” I took the packet and started eating. “ What’s your name little one?” “Bao” I replied. “That’s a wonderful name! Nice to meet you - I’m Tuan.” He said. “Attention all passengers, the next station is Pearl River Delta. Passengers getting off at this stop please don’t forget your belongings.” The intercom interrupted our conversation. “You’d better get ready little boy, don’t want to miss your stop eh? ” he chuckled. I gave him a strange look. The train was reaching the station and I got my luggage and sat back down. Mother’s face came into my mind. I wondered how she was doing. Did she really send me here to make my future better? The train stopped and I got up and left. As I got off the train, I quickly scanned the crowd. I was looking for a familiar face and I did. He was sitting on a bench with his back to me. I walked over to him and placed my hands on his shoulders and he turned to me with a big smile on his face. “Bao! My boy, how have you been? Is your Mother doing well? Did you eat properly during your journey?” he said. He grabbed my luggage and held my hand and we left the station. He took me to his car and we drove away. As he was driving, I looked out to the big old buildings. People walking and driving their cars with a smile on their faces. This is how it used to be before the war. Everyone was so happy and carefree. Business was going well and I used to smile all the time. The car suddenly stopped and I looked around to see housing estates. I got off the car and walked with my grandfather. “ So Bao, tell me what’s been going on,” my grandfather asked me as we got into the elevator. “It’s not good, it’s not bad either.” I replied. “ Are you excited about living with us? “ I nodded. The elevator stopped on the 5th floor. I followed my grandfather

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as he rang the doorbell. The door opened and I saw my grandmother wearing an excited smile. Her eyes landed on me and she rushed to give me a tight hug. “Bao, oh son how have you been? It’s been so long,” she said. “I’m fine, grandmother. How are you doing?” I asked. “Oh I’m doing well boy, oh my god! Where are my manners?! Please come in, Bao. Enter your new home.” My heart sank at those last words. I entered and I took a look at my surroundings. It looked like a really comfortable flat. “Do you like it?” a voice asked. I simply nodded. “Oh Bao, you must be very tired and hungry! Come eat some rice and pork stew and then you can shower and rest,” my grandmother said. I quickly did what she said and she showed me where I would be sleeping. It was a comfy bed with a view of the Pearl River. I stared in amazement at how incredible it looked. “I hope you like it here, Bao.” She said. “ The view is incredible,” was all I said. My grandmother quietly left me alone. All of a sudden I remembered that I had to write to Mother. I quickly grabbed my notebook and my pencil and started writing: ‘Dear Mother, I have arrived and the environment is quite different. It’s livelier here and it reminds me of home, how it used to be before the war. I hope you’re doing well Mother. I miss you terribly. I wish I could come back to you and be there when Father comes back from the war. I wish you were here with me, Mother. I feel strange thinking that this is my home now. It doesn’t feel like home if you and Father aren’t here. I hope you can come here to stay with me. We can all be safe here. I miss you, Mother. Please reply as soon as you get this. I love you Mother. Take care.’ I put the letter aside and crawl to the window. I see the river; it seems so peaceful and calm. Boats sailing across the harbour gently. This is home now. I have to learn to let go of my past life and move forward. I have to be brave and confident like my Father. I have to learn to love this place. I let out a huge sigh and think, “This is home.”

Fiction: Group 3

Daddy’s Girl HKMA David Li Kwok Po College, Chandra, Pooja - 14, Fiction: Group 3

n a cloudy afternoon in Chikan Town, everyone was going back home after a long day working in the fields including Qiangwei and father. Qiangwei’s father seemed to be in deep thought. “Baba, what is concerning you?” asked

Qiangwei. “Nothing, dear. You’ve become a beautiful young lady, you’re nineteen and I’ve been thinking about your marriage.” Qiangwei was dumbfounded, marriage? She was so caught up in helping her father, she never thought about getting married. “Baba, I can’t think about marriage, we’ve got the farm and we were thinking about keeping farm animals now that you’ve bought new land. Besides, we don’t have enough money to even think about me getting married,” said Qiangwei, touch of disappointment surfacing. How could Baba think she was so selfish that she wanted to get married and leave her miserable father with a farm that needed help? “Sweetheart, stop worrying about me and we will continue this discussion another time,” Baba said, entering the house and going to the backyard. Qiangwei ran to a place where she always went when she saw her father counting their expenses and their savings, when she wasn’t doing well in school, when she felt that there was no one who could understand her. And finally she stopped at the sight of her mother’s grave. There it stood alone on the land with the inscription ‘A loving wife and mother.’ “Ma, I don’t know what to do. I really wish you were here with me.” Qiangwei sobbed sitting beside her mother’s grave. After hours of solitude, Qiangwei came back home. “Qiangwei,” her father called. “Where have you been? Anyway, I’ve prepared dinner for us. Let’s eat.” Qiangwei answered “Baba I’m not hungry. Please excuse me.” Qiangwei went to her small room. She wasn’t ungrateful; it was small but yet cosy. With a small bed next to a wooden dressing table. She plopped on her bed and wondered what she could to satisfy her father’s wishes and stay true to what she believed in. Thinking throughout the night, Qiangwei finally came up with an idea. In the morning, Qiangwei decided to have a fresh start. When she woke up, she went straight to her father’s room with a big smile and said “ Good morning Baba, yesterday night I was thinking about what you said and I thought it would be right that I got married and started a family of my own.” Baba was overjoyed. He thought convincing Qiangwei to get married would be a difficult task and he never thought it would be so easy. “Qiangwei, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that. Okay I must start finding families who are-“Baba was cut off. “Baba, I said I would get married but I want to choose my husband, “Qiangwei spoke sternly. “ Very well but you have to promise me that you will think about your welfare.” “I promise Baba.” After breakfast, Qiangwei went out so she could buy groceries. On the way, she walked past a building that would always be familiar to her. She went in to find her ever-glowing friend, Chao-xing. Just like her name, Chao-xing was like the morning light and was the only person who she could talk to. Growing up, Qiangwei was a quiet girl she was always helping her father. She still remembered the day they met, on a foggy morning of 1982 when Qiangwei accidentally pushed over a basket of vegetables that belonged to an old shopkeeper. The shopkeeper was furious. Qiangwei didn’t stop crying until Chao-xing came up to her and told her that the vegetables had a lot of bugs and worms and if Qiangwei hadn’t had pushed it Chao-xing would’ve. Chao-xing beamed as she saw Qiangwei walk towards her “What brings the timid Qiangwei to Chao-xing’s one-storey house she calls a palace?” Qiangwei sighed “Nothing new really. Baba wants me to get married. I don’t want to and since I love Baba I have thought of a master plan to solve all my problems. See? It’s an everyday thing.” “Ha-ha. Funny, after sensing your sarcasm, I’ve learnt that you have come to seek help from me? And what is this master-plan? ”Chao-xing asked. “You see I haven’t exactly thought of that yet but I want to find a man who is willing to work with my father and me on the farm and it doesn’t matter if he’s poor or rich, fat or thin, if he agrees to help my father I’ll be more than glad to marry him. Chao-xing was shocked; never did she think that someone so innocent would take such drastic measures to keep her father happy. “Qiangwei, you’re a really brave girl for doing this and I’m really proud of you.” And that was all Qiangwei needed to hear. When Qiangwei returned home, she was surprised to hear laughter coming from the living room. She found a wealthy looking family, the mother wearing fine silk, father wearing expensive rings, and a

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charming boy. “Ah, Qiangwei, this is the Shan family here to see you.” her father said. “I would like to talk to the boy, Baba.” Qiangwei demanded. “Gladly, I’m Siyu by the way,” a deep husky voice spoke. “Follow me.” Qiangwei said, slightly intimidated by his voice. “I must tell you that you wouldn’t want to be my husband and you should leave.” Qiangwei hoped that she had made a point to Siyu that she wasn’t looking for marriage. “Qiangwei, I think I must be the judge to decide whether I want you as my wife or not.” Siyu spoke calmly. “Fine but ever since China’s industrial development, farmers are forgotten, the air is becoming polluted, the crops we grow are becoming toxic. And I wasn’t planning on getting married and I plan to stay here until the end. My father doesn’t know anything else but farming and I won’t leave him on his own.” Qiangwei said. Those were the words that touched Siyu the most. Those words showed the simplicity of the beautiful girl that stood in front of him, those were the words that told him “this is the girl I want to marry.” Siyu pushed these thoughts away and said “Okay, I will come by tomorrow again.” “Tomorrow?” questioned Qiangwei. “Yes, I’m a rich boy I would never say no to a challenge, I’m coming tomorrow to farm with my father-in law,” Siyu answered back. Qiangwei laughed “you think farming is as easy as putting on clothes, don’t you? We’ll see if you can keep up that attitude after tomorrow and till then farewell.” Qiangwei went back into the house while Siyu took a moment to look at the land. It was a breathtaking view, the green land that seemed never ending and a small pond with colorful flowers of every sort surrounding it. “I can do it,” The next day was a tiring day for Siyu; he had to feed the cattle and the hens; he had to climb ladders or climb up on top of grain bins, he had to harvest for 12 hours without any breaks. Never in his life had Siyu worked so hard but he was content. That evening, Qiangwei came by and asked “How are you doing ‘Mr. I’m so confident’?” Siyu smiled “I admit that I was wrong about the difficulty of farming but I don’t mind doing it for the rest of my life. Bye and see you tomorrow.” For a year, this was the daily routine of Siyu and Qiangwei. They would work all day and at night they would gather together with Father and talk. It was almost as if they were married. One night, pretty much similar to every other night, Siyu asked “Qiangwei, I have been farming for about a year and I’ve loved every part of it. And I would love to come back to a place I call home to see your embracing smile, so will you marry me?” Qiangwei didn’t know what to say she wanted to be independent but she was fond of Siyu. Suddenly a different voice called out to her, a sweet voice, a voice she thought she would never hear again, and her mother. The voice said “Darling, stop thinking about others and think about yourself. If you like this boy, take a chance. Don’t ruin your life.” The voice soon faded away. She was called back into reality. “Qiangwei? Qiangwei? ” Siyu said worriedly. “Yes. ”Answered Qiangwei powerfully. “Yes I’ll marry you, ’and she hugged Siyu like there was no tomorrow. Qiangwei realized that it was okay to think about herself and what she wanted and it was okay to be a little dependent. And as long she stayed true herself, everything would turn out right.

Fiction: Group 3

The Tale of the Golden River HKMA David Li Kwok Po College, Hikaru Fukuda, Grace - 14, Fiction: Group 3

eople of the East have heard about the ravishing fairies that protected the Golden River, about how the fairies would help bring water to humans from the river for healing, about fairies protecting and feeding the earth and trees around the river and about the Queen who created the River, the Golden

River. These were told by their ancestors but sadly, all magic, all stories related had been destroyed by Emperor Qin 500 years ago. Foolishness and greed had seeped through Emperor Qin’s heart thinking that magic would overthrow him and his power. Thinking that his people would turn away from him and take cover in Queen Pearl Ling Chui’s side. He then ordered all magic in the Golden River destroyed. Fairies were captured and burnt, the Queen’s heart was broken and she had lost power. Fortunately, the Queen and some fairies escaped the wrath and unmerciful massacre of Emperor Qin. But that was 500 years ago. Queen Pearl had come back and rebuilt the River once again with the small yet efficient fairies and talking trees. Unfortunately, after the gory massacre everyone in the East thought the Queen had died and the Golden River had been destroyed, now the Golden River was all a myth to them . It seemed like no one would ever believe it still lived especially after the Emperor ordered his guards to build walls around the River and talking trees so that no one could enter . People had tried to enter the walls but it only lead to their deaths. Yet of course, walls don’t last long and they would eventually start crumbling down. Xiaden Leung was tired of his family constantly demoralizing the fact that he was not a brave soldier unlike his brother who was the General of the Emperor’s army. Xiaden Leung felt jealous; saddening and dark thoughts enter his head, hoping a stroll around the forest would help clear his mind. Xiaden Leung hadn’t realized that he crossed the walls that surrounded the inner forest. He decided to return and apologize to his parents for leaving without a word until he heard music and water flowing. How is that possible?, he thought. He looked back and thought of the things his family had said and turned his head to the direction the sweet music came from. “I’ll find a way back.”, he whispered to himself. The forest was not a smooth journey. He had fallen twice and blood dripped from his wounds. He was desperate to find the source of where the music came from. There he found a river nothing like the ones he had seen during his trips. This river was as clear as glass and shimmered like diamonds. It was beautiful. After a few minutes of admiring the view, a sharp pain from his leg started to weaken him. The last thing he saw before he fainted was a luminous light. Xiaden Leung woke up by the sound of chattering. He screamed when he saw something flying in front of him. “Quiet!”, said the creature with blue wings. “Let him be.”, replied the creature with green wings. “Careful, he might be part of the evil guy who destroyed most our friends.”, said a creature with red wings. “Xiaoyue, we mustn’t speak of that!”, warned another creature. “What are, who are you?, he stammered struggling to find the right words to say. “We are the guardians of the Golden River and we work for the wisest, most humble…” “Beautiful!” added Xiaoyue “and kind queen, Queen Pearl” Then every little creature bowed to a woman dressed in a beautiful blue, silk gown who was walking towards them. She giggled and said, “Thank you for that lovely introduction, Guangguang.” Guangguang blushed and replied, “I only speak the truth, your majesty.” “I see you have recovered.”, said the lady. Xiaden Leung hadn’t realized that his wounds were gone.

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“Yes, but how have they gone so quickly?” “The river holds power, young man.”, the Queen acknowledged. “The river has power? Magic? But, how is that possible?”, asked Xiaden. “You people really forgot?” she sighed. “Explanations will come later. But for now let’s have fun!”, continued Queen Pearl The Queen brought Xiaden back to the River and showed him the talking trees and the delicious fruits they bore. The Queen even showed him her powers. She could control water with her hands, it was unbelievable. Xiaden enjoyed everything about the Golden River and this was something he had never seen before-something so out of this world. Magic exists. Maybe if I introduced Queen Pearl to the Emperor, I might catch the Emperor’s attention and he’ll place me in a higher position. Maybe even the Emperor’s assistant. Then, only then he could get the approval and respect from his family, Xiaden thought. “Come with me.” said Xiaden “To where?” “Show your powers to the Emperor.” “Heavens, no child. It was the reason why my River was destroyed. I cannot and will not risk it. Anybody with the blood of Qin is evil.” “No, you are mistaken. Emperor Chiu is a good person. This magic could help our people and you and my Emperor can have peace. ”, he was only half lying. “Well”, she hesitated “then I will go to your country and make peace with your Emperor.” Going back to the walls was no big deal but the rest of the journey worried Queen Pearl. She had never seen anyone so cruel that they would throw their trash into the sea. She didn’t have a good feeling about her decision. 500 years ago no one would throw their litter into the sea, the humans respected the ocean. What happened?, Queen Pearl thought. They arrived at the palace of Emperor Chiu. Queen Pearl had never been this nervous but she had to do this, she had to make peace with the Emperor so that nothing terrible like the massacre would happen again. Her people depended on her, in her decision. Queen Pearl gathered all the courage she had and walked up the stairs gracefully. Emperor Chui was selfish and powerful. It was a fine morning till a beautiful woman and a young man arrived in his kingdom. They introduced themselves. The young man was a soldier and the fair lady’s was a Queen, Queen Pearl Ling Chui. Emperor Chiu couldn’t speak for a moment. Could it be? Could this woman in front of me be the one who created the Golden River? But that’s impossible; Emperor Qin had destroyed everything that related to the Pearl River. Perhaps, it was a Queen who happened to have the same name as a myth, Emperor Chiu thought. This was it, Xiaden thought the moment when the Emperor would realize his ambitions. The Emperor descended from his throne and asked the Queen who she was. “I am the creator of the Golden River. I am the mother of the Golden River. I am the Queen of the Golden River. I am Queen Pearl. The River that was once destroyed has been resurrected and I am here to ask for peace.” “IMPOSSIBLE! It was destroyed 500 years ago. No no. Guards, seize her” “No, I just ask for peace.” the Queen trembled. “All magic should be gone by now-“ “Your highness, this magic can help people, it can build your kingdom with the guidance of the Queen”, interrupted Xiaden. He didn’t know the King would do such a thing “You, the King pointed at Xiaden, you brought her here, seize him.” The Queen was wrong; she thought this could help her kingdom but no. She was brought to a grave where she was burnt. She tried to escape from the burning flames that ate her skin but fire was her weakness. The Emperor seated on his throne looked up with pride. Emperor Qin would’ve been proud of me, this was the right thing to do, he thought.

Fiction: Group 3

When the flames ate the Queens flesh until what’s left were ashes, there was an earthquake that shook the whole East. The Golden River split into three. The rivers are part of the River delta. The Emperor thought it would be respectful to call it Pearl as a remembrance of the Queen. The small fairies and magic had disappeared, they were all gone. As for Xiaden he too was burnt. He didn’t think it would end like this. All he wanted was respect form his family and gain recognition in the Kingdom. People say the spirit of Queen still lives in the Pearl River Delta and that magic still exists.

Fiction: Group 3

The Fresh Start HKMA David Li Kwok Po College, Kaur Saran, Sarneet - 14, Fiction: Group 3

here are we going, father? You still haven’t told me yet.” Li-Hua whispered to the man walking beside her. They had been travelling for days on end, but her father still wouldn’t tell her where they were travelling to.

He looked up at her and smiled. He seemed to age a little bit more every day ever since her mother passed. The lines on his forehead had got deeper and his cheeks were sinking into his skull. He was tired. She could see it in his eyes, but he still refused to get onto the horse Li-Hua was sitting on. “We’re almost there.” He told her. Li-Hua sighed. He still wouldn’t tell her. He was a bit stubborn like that sometimes, so when he, despite her grandmother’s protests, suddenly decided to pack their bags and leave Anhui, she wasn’t entirely surprised. Li-Hua wasn’t completely sure how much time had passed, but when her father said that they had reached their destination, Li-Hua was glad. All the travelling made her feel exhausted, despite that fact that she had been sitting the entire time. “Where are we?” Li-Hua asked again, hoping that this time her father would be able to give her a satisfactory reply. He replied by picking her up from the horse in one swift motion and setting her on the ground. “Can’t you feel the ocean breeze? Can’t you smell the salt in the air?” her father said, laughing. It took Li-Hua a few seconds to figure it out, but when she did, her eyes widened in delight. “Canton?” she said, her mouth forming a smile. When her father nodded, Li-Hua squealed. Her mother was from Canton, so she had heard all about this place. She had heard about the port, filled with ships carrying cargo from places far, far away and she had heard about the fair-skinned people who owned them. She heard about the exotic spices and the finest silk that was traded here, but what excited her most was the sea. She had never seen the sea before, but from what her mother told her, it was in the most beautiful blue colour and stretched as far and as wide as her eyes could see. “What are we doing here, father?” Li-Hua asked. As excited as she was to be here, she didn’t see the point as her mother’s parents had died years ago and they had no relations here whatsoever. “I thought we needed a fresh start, didn’t you? Plus, the trade here is booming, so I brought all the tea I could harvest back in Anhui. We could be happier here, my blossom. We could have a new life.” Her father looked at her, as if he was waiting for a sign of her approval. Her father was a tea grower, and Li-Hua knew that the price he was getting for his tea back in An-Hui was barely enough to keep them going. Li-Hua smiled. “You’re right.” She said. “Mother always talked about the sea. Can we go see it?” she asked, after a short pause. Her father gave a little chuckle. “Come on, my blossom. Let’s go to the port.”

~ John Matteson was tired, but he tried not to show it as his daughter chatted enthusiastically. Months ago, he owned one of the wealthiest British merchant firms, and now, after the Jiaqing Emperor had put a ban on his most profitable trade, opium, he was at the risk of losing everything. That’s why he was now in Canton. He had arrived here a couple of hours ago, and now was walking along the Canton port with his daughter. He had a smile on his face, but he was panicking, trying to think of a way to save his company from falling into ruin. “What can I do?” John thought to himself. He rubbed his temples, hoping a solution would just come to him. He needed the money he got by selling opium to keep his company afloat, but there was no way he could do that without the Jiaqing Emperor finding out and arresting him and shutting down his firm. What would happen to his family then? What would happen to him? “Maybe, if I could get someone else to traffic the opium for me, then I would be safe and my firm wouldn’t shut down.” He thought. It was not a bad idea, but there was no way he’d be able to find someone who’d do that. No one would put themselves in danger like that, even if he paid the person handsomely. Not unless they were desperate enough… How hard could it be to find someone desperate? He looked around. He knew the harbour was full of rich traders, because after all, Canton was a thriving trading hub. However, as he looked among the crowds of people, he spotted one man in particular. The young man looked tired, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was trying so very hard to sell his tea to passers-by, but no one seemed particularly interested.

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John was very interested. Not in the man’s tea, but in the man’s desperation. Maybe there was a chance he could save his company after all.

~ It had been 6 months since Long-Wei had accepted the proposal given to him by the Englishman, John Matteson. It had been 4 since he could finally afford a real home for himself and his daughter, Li-Hua, instead of the usual dingy guesthouses they stayed in, and it had been 2 since he had stopped questioning his decision to accept the proposal. With the proposal, he also had to accept that he could be caught by the Canton authorities, and that he could be taken away from his daughter forever. At the moment, Long-Wei was happy. He was alone at his home, sipping tea and reading the newspaper. Li-Hua wasn’t home with him; she was instead with Rosa, John’s daughter, playing. Rosa and Li-Hua had become good friends ever since John and Long-Wei had started working together. Everything was peaceful, and Long-Wei was enjoying the peace. He was enjoying the silence and, he was- In a split-second, everything changed for Long-Wei. From the second he had read the words in the newspaper, he knew his fears were becoming reality. They knew. They knew what he had done-and was doing-and they would come for him. In the past few months, there had been no news relating to opium trafficking in the Canton. No news implying that the Jiaqing Emperor was aware of the trafficking he was involved in. That’s why he had stopped worrying, that’s why he thought he was safe. Suddenly, there was a knock on his door, and Long-Wei felt his heart beating faster, and his eyes watering. They were here. They would take him away, and he wouldn’t even get to say goodbye to his blossom.

~ “Father, Father, I’m home!” Li-Hua said, as she rushed through the door of her home. It was already very dark outside, so Li-Hua knew she was later than usual. “I hope you haven’t started dinner without-” Li-Hua stopped talking. Why was her home so quiet? Where was Father? Li-Hua started searching her entire home, and by the end of her search, her eyes started to water. Where could he have gone? Suddenly, Li-Hua sensed a presence behind her; she turned around to see her neighbor, an old woman called Yanyu, standing at the door. “Where’s my father?” Li-Hua asked Yanyu. “Li-Hua, your father told me to look after you.” Yanyu said, ignoring Li-Hua’s question. “Where’s my father?” Li-Hua repeated, her eyes filling with tears. The old woman took a deep breath. “Li-Hua, he’s…gone. Your father’s gone.” When she said that, Li-Hua couldn’t handle it any longer. Tears flowed on her face and she could feel herself shaking. Yanyu embraced Li-Hua. She could almost feel the little girl’s pain and confusion. “Don’t worry, Li-Hua. It’s going to be okay. It’ll all be okay.”

~ John Matteson stared at the sea. It had been a couple of days since he had left Canton, and the Pearl River Delta was now no longer visible. He looked at the solemn little girl who was standing a few feet away from him. She was also staring at the sea. She had been doing the same thing for days. When Long Wei got arrested, John Matteson immediately decided to flee, but as he was boarding his ship with his daughter, he remembered Long Wei’s little girl and guilt filled him. He was the reason her father was gone, so he felt as if it was his responsibility to make it right. Hence, he made a decision to take her in, to take her away from everything and to give her a fresh start, but now, as he stood and stared at the sea with the solemn little girl, he wondered if it was the right one.

Fiction: Group 3

How the Pearl River Delta Got Its Name HKMA David Li Kwok Po College, Limbu, Iksa - 14, Fiction: Group 3

f you go to Guangdong Province in China, you are most likely to hear about the Pearl River Delta and see its beauty. The tale of the Pearl River is long forgotten but its ambience still surrounds the place. So if you buy some steamed pork buns and a pack of jasmine tea leaves and present them to the elderly

living in the area, they may ask you to stay for a cup of tea and tell you a tale. A tale about a fight between an Emperor and a Dragon, a tale about a saddened Mother Dragon, a tale which is now known as the tale of How the Pearl River Delta got its name. Long, long ago in China, the Mother of all dragons was left alone after her husband had passed away and all her children had grown up. She was disheartened as she was lonely and had no one to look after. The river, now known as the Pearl River, which was once clear as crystal and fresh as the morning, was bitter and murky because of the Mother Dragon’s tears. This became a big problem among the villagers. They needed fresh, clean water to drink and plant their crops; without fresh, clean water they couldn’t run their households properly. One of them suggested informing the Emperor. All of the others agreed and so they went to the Palace. “Our mighty emperor! Please help us!” cried the villagers. “What is it that I may help my people with?” asked the Emperor. “It’s the Mother Dragon, Your Majesty.” answered one old woman. The Emperor grew a little worried. “What’s wrong with the Mother Dragon?” he asked curiously. “She keeps on crying! Our once fresh and clear river is now murky and bitter!” they answered one by one. The Emperor was confused and wondered why the Mother Dragon was crying. He looked at the villagers. “May I know why she is so disheartened?” A villager spoke up, “Your Highness, after her husband passed away and all her children left, she has been lonely.” The Emperor saw the opportunity and smiled. “Well then, seems like she just needs something to look after and keep busy.” He looked at one of his trusted guards and ordered, “Bring out the marvellous pearl - it’ll finally be of some use.” Out came a huge, beautiful pearl. It was so huge that it almost touched the palace ceiling and was white and smooth. All it needed was some more cleaning and it would be perfect. It wasn’t like the Emperor hadn’t tried. Once he ordered all his warriors to clean it but because of its size, it was impossible to reach the top. Only a large creature could do it, someone like the Mother Dragon. The Emperor praised himself for his plan. Once the Dragon finished taking care of the pearl, he would ask his guards to secretly steal it from her when she was asleep. The villagers, amazed by the Emperor’s kindness, bowed down to him. Little did they know of his plan. The Mother Dragon was more than pleased with the pearl. She worked hard to bring out its true beauty. Every day, she cleaned it with clear seawater, then toned it with fresh water and finally dried it and wrapped it up with seaweed. The more the pearl shone, the more the Emperor grew impatient. After years of waiting, the pearl was finally ready. Its glow radiated throughout half of China and reached the Palace windows. When the Emperor saw the light shining through his window, he knew it was time. The Emperor instructed his guards, “At night, go to the Mother Dragon and make sure she’s asleep. When you’re sure, carefully and silently steal it from her.” The guards hesitated because after all it was the Mother Dragon they were talking about. But they still followed their Majesty’s orders and went ahead. When night fell, the guards saw the Mother Dragon wrapped around the Pearl, peacefully sleeping. With much difficulty, they found a way to roll the Pearl out of the warmth of the Dragon and place it in their wagon. They took it to the Palace. The Emperor was pleased with their hard work gave them each a string of gold. When morning came, a loud cry was heard throughout China. It was the Mother Dragon “NO! IT CAN’T LEAVE ME! FIRST MY HUSBAND, THEN MY CHILDREN AND NOW THIS! WHO HAS DARED TO STEAL MY PEARL!” The Emperor heard it and got more and more worried. He asked his guards to lock the pearl up in the darkest chamber they had as he was scared that the Pearl’s glow might give the Mother Dragon hints of its whereabouts.

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But alas, the glow of the Pearl was too mighty. The Dragon followed the light. But was surprised. The closer she got to the Palace, the stronger the glow got. She understood at once, that the Emperor himself and stolen it. She went in and faced the Emperor. “May I know what exactly is glowing so brightly from inside your chambers? Is it just me or does it remind you of the glow that my precious pearl had?” The Emperor boldly told her the truth. “The Pearl was never and will never be your property. It was mine from the beginning, I just lent it to you to end your sadness and you talk with me in this way?” The Dragon roared in rage. She went right in to the chambers, breaking down the doors and took the Pearl. The Emperor ordered his guards to follow the Dragon and take it back from her. The Dragon knew she wasn’t safe with her Pearl here on Earth and decided to fly to Heaven. But while she was flying, she couldn’t carry the Pearl properly as it was too heavy and she dropped it instead in the river of Heaven. The Wiseman in Heaven decided to leave it there and make peace between the Dragon and the Emperor. Thus, the Pearl is what we see in the sky every night and is now known as the Moon. On the other hand, the Emperor didn’t know that the Dragon had run away to Heaven. Every night the river would carry the Pearl’s reflection and so the Emperor misunderstood and thought that the Pearl had fallen in the river. As the Emperor had so dearly loved the Pearl, he decided to name the place, the Pearl River. So that, folks, is the tale of how Pearl River got its name.

Fiction: Group 3

My Half-Sister and The Mystic Pearl River HKMA David Li Kwok Po College, Naidu, Ria - 13, Fiction: Group 3

stared at the test paper the teacher placed on my desk. Once again, I had failed. It was nothing out of the ordinary, I always failed. Dad would probably shout at me and Mom would just get all teary, as usual. Honestly, it wasn’t a big deal.

“LiYing! You failed, again.” Dad boomed, his face red with rage, as he looked at my test paper. I remained calm and braced myself for the scolding I was about to get. “Young man, do not look at me with that indifferent look. Tell me, how many times have you failed?” “More than a hundred times, Dad.” I replied, looking rather bored. “LiYing, I will not put up with this scornful, snooty and indifferent attitude of yours. I am sick and tired of telling you to work harder.” I knew how this was going to end, Dad would shout at me and ask me to go to my room. He was very predictable. But what my Dad said next was definitely unexpected. “I’m going to send you to Guangzhou Military School, LiYing, I’ve had enough. You’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning. The chauffeur will be here at seven in the morning to pick you up.” Military school in Guangzhou? That was too harsh! “Dad, calm down.” I said, with a nervous laugh. He couldn’t be serious. “This was the last straw. You’re going and that’s final.” He said, his voice stern and clear, before exiting the room. I didn’t want to go to military school! I had the perfect life here, we were a rich family, living in a luxurious three-storey mansion. We had everything anyone could ever ask for, and going to military school would mean I’d have to abandon all of it. There was no way I was doing that. And I knew exactly how to get myself out of it. I decided to run away from home. I didn’t know where I was going exactly, but I’d come back after a few days. Dad would be worried sick by then and he’d know the consequences of giving me such a harsh punishment. I would leave that evening. At around eight that evening, I snuck out the back door with my overnight bag and started walking to my favourite place, the Pearl River. The Pearl River brought back faint memories from when I was younger. As I got closer to the river, I saw a girl who was dressed in very dirty clothes. As I approached her, I could hear faint sobs. She was crying. “Hey. Why are you crying?” I asked her. “W-w-we don’t h-have enough money to pay the r-rent and our l-l-landlord might kick us out.” She said, and started crying again. “I wish I was rich.” She said, between sobs. “It’s my dad’s fault I’m poor.” “Why? What did your dad do?” I asked, genuinely inquisitive. “My dad was a very rich and successful man when he married Mom. We lived a great life in a beautiful three-storey mansion, when one day, he and Mom had an argument. My parents never got along very well but Mom discovered he was cheating on her with another woman, whose name was MeiXing.” She paused for a second, allowing the information to sink in. A sudden abrupt thought occurred to me, MeiXing was my mother’s name! That was strange. She continued, “Mom found out and left my dad. She took me with her as I was their only child. Mom found a job in a farm nearby and we both work and live there now. What’s more is that Mom recently told me that my dad and MeiXing have a son named LiYing, who’s living the life I’m supposed to live.” She said, angrily. I gasped. LiYing, that was me. I couldn’t believe Dad had done something like that. Dad was a good man, how could he do that? “Um, there might be something I need to tell you.” I told the girl. “What is it?” She asked. “My name is LiYing and my mother is MeiXing.” I said. The girl opened her mouth in shock. “You’re my h-h-half-brother.” She said, stuttering. I nodded. However, her shock was soon replaced with anger. She scowled at me. “I’m supposed to be living the life you’re living. You don’t need to work, and yet you’re rich. I work long hours in farm and I’m still poor! This is so unfair. I want to be you!” She screamed, angrily. “Did you hear me? I want to be you!” Her words echoed in the background. What was going on? Suddenly, I saw a slithering black creature emerging out of the river. “If you want to be him, then him you shall be.” It hissed, followed by a sinister laugh. My vision turned white, I couldn’t see anything. I screamed for help, but no one was about. Then I felt a falling sensation. My mind went blank... I woke up on a hard bed of straw. Where was I? “Good morning MaiChen.” A lady greeted me. “MaiChen? I’m LiYing.” I said, puzzled. “Ha-ha, you wish. If you’re LiYing then I must be MeiXing.” She laughed, “Anyway hurry up! Work starts at four, you only have thirty minutes!” What work? I had never worked a day in my life… A sudden thought occurred to me, did my half-sister, MaiChen, actually

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Fiction: Group 3

turn into me? And did I turn into her? Oh goodness, I was in a girl’s body! This was bad, very bad. I needed to fix this. MaiChen would probably be on her way to military school at seven, and I needed to fix this before that. I left the hut as soon as I could, and walked all the way back to our mansion. It was a very, very, very long walk and I really missed my car and my chauffeur. I wondered how MaiChen managed without a car… I finally reached the mansion after an hour. It was already five in the morning. I needed to find a way to get inside as soon as I could. I spotted an open window on the ground floor of the mansion, and I slowly climbed inside, trying not to make any noise. Once I was inside, I quickly raced up to my room to find MaiChen, sleeping peacefully. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” I said, snickering, as I lightly shook her arm. She groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Where am I?” She asked. Then she looked at me. “That’s me!” She exclaimed, pointing at me. “If you’re me, then who am I?” She wondered out loud. “MaiChen, this is urgent.” I said. “Remember how you met LiYing, your half-brother yesterday and you said you wanted to be him? Well your wish came true, we swapped bodies. Look at yourself in the mirror.” She gasped when she saw her (or rather, my) reflection. “I didn’t mean that! I only said that because I was angry! I can’t be stuck in a boy’s body!” She exclaimed, frantically. “How about we go back to the river and see what we can do?” I suggested. She nodded. Soon, we were at the Pearl River. “What do we do now?” MaiChen asked me. “Well you could try saying ‘I want to be MaiChen again!’” I suggested. “Okay.” She said. “I want to be MaiChen again!” We waited. Nothing happened, nothing emerged from the river. I was devastated. Then MaiChen said it again, this time, louder, “Did you hear me? I want to be MaiChen!” She shouted. Her words echoed in the background like before and I saw the slithering black creature emerge out of the river again. “If you want to change back, then you shall change back.” It hissed. My vision turned white, I couldn’t see anything. Then I felt like something was lifting me up. My mind went blank... Again. The next morning I woke up as LiYing again. Thank goodness. I really didn’t want to be trapped in a girl’s body. I went downstairs to eat breakfast and found Dad reading the paper. “Good morning Son, are you ready for your first day a military school? Be ready by seven.” He said. Oh no! I didn’t want to go to military school. “Dad,” I pleaded. “Please let me stay. I really don’t want to go.” Dad sighed deeply, “LiYing, you must understand that I am doing this for your own good. I don’t want my son to be a spoilt young man who lives off his father’s wealth.” He said. MaiChen’s words echoed in my head, “You don’t need to work, and yet you’re rich.” Was that really who I had become - a spoilt man who lived off his father’s wealth? Dad was right. I had to go to military school, I couldn’t be that person. I took a deep breath, before saying, “You’re right, Dad. I’ll go to military school and do you proud.”

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta HKUGA College, Leung, Brioni - 13, Fiction: Group 3

i, guys. I am Jessie and I am the boss of the world’s most famous company----- Environmental Friendly. I’m sure you have heard of this before, but do you know why I established this office? Let me tell you my secret, but don’t tell anyone else.

When I was 12 years old, I lived in Guang Zhou. It was modern but it has been polluted. When I sneezed, my pure white tempo tissue turned coal black. One day, when I left school, I walked pass a garden and saw a small box in the grassland. I picked it up and opened the box as my curiosity got the better of me. Suddenly, something was pulling me into the box. I was so scared that I closed my eyes and I felt myself sliding down really quickly. I screamed and screamed. It was even scarier than riding a roller coaster. After a few seconds, I landed on something soft. I slowly opened my eyes and found myself lying on a flowerbed. I stood up and looked around. I had never been to this place before. It was a really beautiful place, with a blue sky and birds singing merrily. Far away, I saw a woman sitting on a bench, so I ran towards her. She might know where I was. The woman seemed to be gorgeous originally, but her flowing white hair made her face seemed dull and dim. She was weeping sadly as I approached her, so I sat next to her and asked, “Madam, why are you crying?” I offered her a tissue which was tucked in my pocket. “Thank you, dear,” she sobbed. “Where are you come from? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” “I am Jessie and I am from Guang Zhou. What’s your name, madam?” I asked. “You are from Pearl River Delta. It has been seriously polluted, isn’t it?” she asked, crying even harder. “Well, it’s not really serious…” I began. “You don’t have to comfort me. I know everyone in Pearl River Delta is having a hard time. I am Pearl, the goddess of Pearl River Delta,” she interrupted. “I am so sorry… your majesty. I don’t know you are a goddess,” I said nervously, bowing to Pearl immediately. “It’s okay, sit next to me and you can call me Pearl. You made me feel much better by listening to me,” Pearl said, so I sat next to the goddess and asked her why she was crying. “Well, let me tell you what happened, my friend. My father was the god of Pearl River Delta, but he died a year ago…” she said. “Wait a moment, gods actually die?” I asked, “A lot of myths declared that gods and goddess are mortal.” “That is what they say in stories. However, in reality, gods and goddess die,” she replied calmly. “Therefore, as I am the eldest child of his, I became the goddess of Pearl River Delta. For a long time, I tried to make this place a non-polluted place. Everyone can farm and have fresh air to breathe every day.” “However, a few weeks ago, I went on a vacation. I gave my brother the authority to rule the Pearl River Delta while I was away.”

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“One day in heaven equals to ten years in your world.” “Wait… heaven? Oh! So I was dead right now?” I asked agitatedly. I can’t imagine dying so young. “How did you come here?” Pearl asked. “I found a black box in the garden and I opened the box,” I tried to remember what had happened just now. “Then the box pulled you in, am I correct? You are the rescuer!” Pearl exclaimed. “Rescuer?” I am a rescuer? IMPOSSIBLE. “There is a legend in my family. When there is a problem which we cannot solve, a human will be sent here by a black box and help us. You are the one,” Pearl said. “What?” I shouted. I am in a legend? I am so super! “Let me continue. When I came back from my vacation, a lot of years have passed in human world. I found that my brother has changed Pearl River Delta into a place that was full of factories. I was so angry. I tried a lot of ways to turn it back like before, but none of the ways can worked. Now, your life must be awful,” Pearl started crying again. “Don’t cry, Pearl. Well, have you tried to talk to your brother?” I asked, trying to be helpful. “Yes, but he said people living nowadays are happier than in the past,” Pearl said. Well indeed, mum said that people who lived in Pearl River Delta before was suffering through hard times. They were poor and sad. However, people now were happier and richer than before after Pearl River became modern. I wanted to tell Pearl, but I was scared she would cry again. “I have a plan, but can you ask your brother to come too?” I asked. “Of course!” Pearl said. She clapped her hands and a dove came. She whispered to the dove and it flew away. After several minutes, the dove came back with a young man behind. “This is my brother,” Pearl said. “Sister, don’t be angry with me. I was just trying to help. And this is…” The man looked at me. “She is Jessie, the girl in the legend. Jessie, this is Sky,” Pearl introduced. “She has a plan to solve the problem.” “Are you really the girl in the legend, Jessie?” Sky asked. “I’m not sure, but I came from a black box,” I replied. “Actually, I think both of you have your point. I understand that Pearl wants people in Pearl River Delta to have a good environment to live in and Sky wants them to live a rich and happy life. If there is no way to change Pearl River Delta back to normal, why don’t we combine both of your ideas together?” “How can we do that together? It’s two totally different ideas,” Sky said. “Well, why don’t we let people in Pearl River Delta continue their modern life while we instill the idea of being environmental friendly to them? For example, we can educate them to turn off the lights when they don’t need them and teach them not to waste things?” I offered.

Fiction: Group 3

Pearl’s face brightened. The radiant glow of her face had appeared. “Good idea!” Sky and Pearl said together. “Thank you so much for helping us solve the problem, Jessie. What do you want? Tell us anytime if you want anything,” Pearl said. “I hope both of you can successfully carrying out the plan. Also, I want to go back to my home. Oh no! How long have I stayed here? My mum will be looking for me for… years?” I asked. “Oh, we can send you back to where you came from at the time you opened the black box. Keep the box so you can come here anytime!” Pearl said. Suddenly, I felt my body floating in midair. My eyelids were as heavy as stones and I closed my eyes. When I woke up, I found myself lying next to the black box. I picked up the box and went back home. A few days later, I found out everyone was talking about the pollution problem. The plan succeeded! Now, Pearl River Delta was a really green place, with a lot of trees and a lot of grasslands and a modern futuristic city too. My adventure gave me an idea of establishing this company. This is the end of my story.

Fiction: Group 3

Tales of the Pearl River Delta HKUGA College, Tam, Fiona - 16, Fiction: Group 3

ome on grandma, tell me a story!" Chloe's grandchildren begged. It was eleven o' clock, everybody at the house were asleep, except Chloe and her grandchildren, who were way too excited about tomorrow's trip to the Pearl River Delta.

"Please, I am very tired. Can we do that tomorrow?" Chloe groaned, rubbing her eyes. She was just packing the stuff needed for the trip tomorrow, and who would story to tell a story after a day of tiring work? "No," the children smirked. Chloe sighed, those guys were troublesome! But they were just 5 years old children! It would be merciless to scold children like that. "How about 'The Tales of Pearl River Delta'? Since we will be there tomorrow…" Chloe suggested and the children applauded. The story was set in 1965, Pearl River Delta, in which Cultural Revolution took place. The situation was a mess, students began to insult their teachers, attacking their parents, and nobody wanted to learn. Their minds were being manipulated by the government. The red guards went to civilians' houses and took every valuable thing away. There was a 13 years old girl, her name is Yeung Li-Ying, her father was a landlord, in which he rented houses out. Her life was perfect, she had terrific academic results, a bunch of friends who cared for her so much, she was born in a wealthy family ----- she had everything, until the Cultural Revolution occurred. One day, she got home from an exhausting school day, what she wanted was to relax, to get her mind away from school. When she got home, she saw her house full of bags, as if her parents were preparing to leave. "Oh my lord, what disaster is this? What on earth is happening?" Li-Ying asked, she looked confused. "Go and pack your stuff, we are leaving," Madame Yeung demanded, not looking up. What? Leaving? Li-Ying was surprised and confused at the same time, they were leaving? Right now? What's going on? "Li-Ying, hurry up! We got to leave before those loathsome, disgusting, bloody red guards arrive! We need to keep all the valuables......" Before Mrs. Yeung could finish her speech, the door went open, 7 men were standing there, wearing uniform, with guns and weapons on their hands and waist. They wore the same firm, murderous expressions. "Oh god," Mr Yeung gasped. One of the men took a step forward, he grabbed Mr Yeung by the collar of his jacket, "What did you say about us?" he asked furiously. Mr Yeung tried to keep calm in front of his wife and daughter, "You disgusting scumbags deserve to get yourself slaughtered," he replied. The man leaned closer to Mr Yeung, then turned to his mates, "Take him away," he ordered, "he is accused of insulting red guards and the government." Li-Ying was shocked, she couldn't believe her father was taken away by the red guards just because he said something bad about the guards. She wanted to stop the guards but she was too afraid to do so. Li-Ying watched her father leave the house, with both of his arms on his back, standing between two red guards. Her mind was racing, her heart beat rapidly. "What's inside?" The leader of the red guards asked, pointing at one large bag. Nobody answered. The leader pointed it's gun to her mother's head, "open it," he ordered. Li-Ying started to panic, she knew her mother loved her jewellery more than anything. There were bracelets, necklaces and diamonds inside the bag, these were all her mother's favourite, there's no way her mother was going open the bag and let the guards take them away. "No." Her mother replied calmly, she made an eye contract with Li-Ying, indicating her to run away. Li-Ying took a step back, and began to run.

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Fiction: Group 3

Suddenly, she heard the sound of gun shot behind. She turned around, and saw her mother laid on the ground, surrounded by her own blood. The red guards opened the bags and took all the valuables inside away. Li-Ying knew she couldn't stay in this house anymore, the house was a disaster, everything had been taken away by the red guards, and there is nothing left in the house. She ran and ran without stopping, hoping to leave the house before the red guards could notice. She kept running until she saw a small house in front of her. There was nothing else around the house, no flowers, no trees, nothing. The entire place looked so desolated, Li-Ying wondered if anybody actually lived here. The cold wind blew in her face; she shivered and folded her arms in front of her chest to warm herself. It took Lily a while to decide whether she should go inside the house or not, since everything looked creepy here. But if she doesn't, those red guards would definitely find her. Hesitantly, she walked inside the house, to hide herself from those red guards. It was dim; no one was there in the house. It was terrifyingly quiet, except for Li-Ying's breathing. Suddenly, an old lady appeared, she has a long white hair, there were wrinkles in her face and she was wearing a long white grown. “Don't be afraid, my dear child,” the old lady said with her thick British accent calmly, approaching Li-Ying. Li-Ying had no idea what she was talking about, she barely know English, through English lessons in Elementary school. She stayed quiet, hoping everything would be okay. The old lady stopped walking, “My name is Madame Larissa, I am a British,” she introduced, “Whoever enters here must be hopeless and would like to seek help, and so what’s your name?” British! She is from the UK! UK had a serious war with China in 1839 and basically took everything away from China! The money, the lands, everything! Li-Ying thought when she finally realized that Madame Larissa was speaking to her in English. She remembered her grandparents hated British people, and even told her to stay away from them. But in this circumstance, she didn’t have much of a choice; she could only do what Madame Larissa says. “Hello, little girl?” Madame Larissa repeated, “What’s your name?” “……Yeung Li-Ying” Li-Ying answered awkwardly. “A Chinese girl,” Madame Larissa muttered, “what happened?” she asked. Li-Ying was petrified; the memory of watching her father being taken away by the red guards and her mother got killed came back. She didn’t think that Madame Larissa would be able to help her as she wasn’t a Chinese, she bended down, shook her head, refused to tell her what happened just now. “You can’t expect people to help you without telling them what happened,” Madame Larissa said, firmly. Li-Ying began to panic, of course at this stage, she would like someone to help, but she just didn’t know how to tell Madame Larissa what happened just now in English. Shyly, she tried to briefly explain what happened, “Oh I see,” Madame Larissa replied, “Let’s do something to save your father without starting a war.” Later on, Madame Larissa helped Li-Ying write a formal letter to the government, hoping the government could release her father. Madame Larissa also taught her English as she thought learning English would create a better future for Li-Ying. There seemed to be no responses from the government. However, a few days later, a bunch of red guards came to Madame Larissa’s place, claiming that Li-Ying was accused of disobeying the orders from the government. Madame Larissa didn’t think Li-Ying do anything wrong, “That is ridiculous, she didn’t do anything but just write a bloody letter!” she shouted at the guards. The guards immediately pointed a gun at her head, ready to shoot her. Madame Larissa knew something tremendously horrifying was going to happen – killing! She pulled Li-Ying’s hand, escaped, and never back to China again. “So, where is Li-Ying now?” The children asked. Chloe chuckled, “she stayed in UK with Madame Larissa, until Madame Larissa die in her sleep when Li-Ying was 27. Later than she married to an English man, and gave birth to your father. ”

Fiction: Group 3

The Seminar at the Pearl River Delta HKUGA College, Tse, Hui Yan Jodie - 13, Fiction: Group 3

hat’s taking you so long, dad?” I asked. “Just a second…Done!” Dad’s voice echoed around the room. Dad walked out of the bathroom, he looked peculiar, something was definitely

wrong. “Just trimmed my hair, do I look good?” Dad said proudly. I almost laughed, but I held back and said, “you look amazing!” He actually looked like a potato.

He never bothered cutting his hair, but we were going to a seminar, so he did something exceptional. I swung my duffel bag on my back. It felt like a ton of rubbish was piled over my back.

“What have you put inside, dad? It wasn’t so heavy when I packed it,” I groaned under the weight. “Nothing special, just a few exercise books,” Dad winked. I stumbled to the front door, unable to even respond to my dad, then I walked out. “Have you brought everything with you, Bill?” Dad asked. “Yes,” I croaked. “Are you sure?” Dad asked in suspicion. “Yes!” I yelled. Dad smiled.

It’s about time to tell you something about me, or this whole story would be meaningless. As you can see, my dad was really annoying, as if he was my mother. However, believe it or not, he was both my mum and dad. My mum died in a car accident when I was three, so I didn’t really remember her. Dad told me she had a warm smile, which was the only thing I remembered. I didn’t think I actually missed her, for my dad was as annoying as a mother, but I would like her to be here with us, if I had a choice. Anyway, my dad was an ecologist. This was probably the worst job I’ve ever heard. He went to national parks and places which had been polluted to do research. He didn’t tell me this, but I figured out his most important job was to clear rubbish. It was no different from the job of garbage cleaner, he just got a more professional title. Today, we were going to attend this seminar about pollution, and a whole bunch of ecologists from all over the world would be going to a polluted place, Pearl River Delta.

Back to where we started. We talked little during our walk to the bus stop. Dad and I just caught the bus, and we were going to the airport. I slumped into a seat and fell asleep within seconds. The next time I woke up, we were at the airport. After a scrumptious meal, we checked in our luggage and boarded the plane. I slept again, and after waking up for a delicious meal on the airplane, I slept again! My dad woke me up two hours later, pointing at the window. We arrived at our destination! How I hoped I was a koala, eating and sleeping for the whole day. Sometimes, I wondered why we humans were the intelligent species. Take koalas as an example, they know how to enjoy their time, they were smart. Anyway, we disembarked from the plane and took our luggage, and then we got on a bus and headed off to the Pearl River Delta.

The Pearl River Delta was in China, formed by three major rivers, Xi Jiang, Bei Jiang, and Dong Jiang. Pearl River Delta was actually two deltas, separated by the core branch of the Pearl River. I didn’t know why they combined these two deltas into one. I only knew that its network covered nine prefectures, Hong Kong, Guangzhou, Macau, Huizhou, Zhongshan, Jiangmen, Zhaoqing, Zhuhai and Foshan. Also, the water of Pearl River Delta flowed to the South China Sea. I usually failed my geography exams, but I knew so much about this polluted river, probably because my brain was polluted too!

When we arrived, I didn’t see why this was a polluted place. There were a lot of buildings and factories near the coast, making it like an organized place. There were even trees planted near the coast. Seriously, I would be willing to live there, so what was the problem with it? I wanted to ask my dad what this prank was all about. Suddenly, I saw something very shocking. I wanted to vomit, right into the ocean, which would be nothing compared to the greasy patch of oil in the ocean. I didn’t know how to calculate it using fractions, but I was sure the percentage of clean water was a lot less than the amount of greasy oil.

“What is this?” I asked with disgust. “This thing that looks like…” Dad was explaining when suddenly his watch’s alarm rang.

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Fiction: Group 3

“Oh no, it is time for the meeting. Let’s go to the conference room first. You can listen to what the other ecologists say,” Dad panted as he stumbled to the building at the far end of the street.

As if that would cheer me up, I thought. I’ve attended these meetings a thousand times, and it always satisfied me. I could sit comfortably at the back of the seat and sleep because ecologists were as boring as teachers. After a few years of research, I found out teachers and ecologists were born to be boring. However, ecologists were slightly more boring than teachers, which upgraded them to be the most boring creature in the world. Sleeping at the back of the conference room didn’t work after all, as my dad found out the last time and insisted that I sat beside him.

We went into the conference room, and not long after we sat down, the meeting began. I sat down, trying to keep my eyes open. It worked in the first fifteen minutes as an ecologist was able to answer the question I just asked my dad.

The ecologist said something like this, “After a few series of research, we found that this serious water pollution is caused by the factories which dump lot of harmful chemicals into Pearl River Delta nearby…” I was starting to get bored, my eyesight was getting blurry, and I fell asleep.

I woke up with a start, sweat dripped down my forehead to my bright red cheeks. I dreamed of myself swimming in Pearl River Delta, cooling down from the unbearable heat. I decided to walk around this stinky place to know more about it. Besides, I wanted to get out of this conference room. I sneaked out of the room to the exit, grabbing my bag, and ran towards the dam. I took a set of equipment out, laying them on the floor. My dad gave me this as birthday present when I was seven. I used them to measure the level of pollution of the water and the surrounding air. After analysing the water, I found that there were really a lot of harmful chemicals, for instance, heavy metals and toxic pollutants. I remembered one of the speakers with a flat nose and chubby cheeks said that not only Pearl River Delta, but 70% of China’s rivers, lakes, and even reservoirs were affected by water pollution, a major environmental problem. I looked at my watch; it was 5:45, and almost the end of the meeting! I rushed to the building, jumped three steps a time on the stairs, dashed for the door, and … I just made it! The meeting hasn’t ended, and a thin ecologist was standing in the middle of the conference room. Wait a second, my dad? He looked smart in his suit, talking about how to prevent pollution. “Protecting the environment is everyone’s responsibilities. We not only talk, we act. My son always says my job is a garbage cleaner. He’s not wrong! All of us should clean the garbage in Hong Kong, and make it an environmentally friendly city!” There was silence, suddenly, everyone was standing up, clapping their hands vigorously. I stood there in awe. Funny how people’s views changed when they thought differently. My dad’s haircut didn’t look that ugly, he looked smart and tidy.

I was standing there daydreaming, my dad saw me. “Why are you panting?” Dad asked, probably puzzled.

“I just ran back from the washroom, don’t want to miss anything interesting and meaningful. It is wonderful!” I tried to sound exciting, I was still dumbstruck by my dad’s lecture.

After a tour around Pearl River Delta, Dad and I took the bus to the airport and boarded the plane. On the plane, I told dad I would never be an ecologist, but I would like to make inventions to help reduce water pollution. “But this means you will be an ecologist. I thought you don’t want to be one?” Dad asked in a mysterious voice. “No, it’s not. Only inventors do these things, ecologists merely clean up the polluted areas. Now, don’t say anything else, or I’ll probably change my mind,” I said. Dad pretended to be annoyed when he heard that ecologists only dealt with rubbish, but I swore I saw him smile.

Fiction: Group 3

Mr. Cooper Hong Kong Academy, Chan, Sophia - 12, Fiction: Group 3

eter Reid was the type of person that likes class time more than break time. You would often spot him at the library with his nose stuck in a book, and you might notice he has no friends to talk to. He is not caught up with the popular trends and didn’t care for them either. You might think Peter

chose to be this way, but the truth is he didn’t. Perhaps it was his oddly shaped glasses or the way he corrects people’s grammar that is the reason people do no talk to him. “Peter, can I see you for a minute?” the principle asked. Peter slowly trudged into the office and sat in the small brown chair. “Am I in trouble?” Peter asked. “ I’m really sorry that my book was overdue, it’s just that I forgot!” he explained. “Oh no, it’s nothing like that,” the principle replied. “I just wanted to talk to you, you seemed a little lonely.” He went on. Peter frowned at this news, it had seemed it reached the point when he would have to spend his all of his lunches with the principle. “No thank you, but I would rather read my books and study maths if that’s alright,” Peter said. “If that’s what you want. But try to make some friends,” the principle encouraged. “I do have friends! … Mr. Cooper!” Peter argued. The principle sighed and waved Peter out of the office in disappointment. It was true, Peter’s only friend was the science teacher, Mr. Cooper. Mr. Cooper was strict, kind, cross and humorous all at the same time. He was also the only person willing to be Peter’s friend. Mr. Cooper had a handlebar moustache, great big specs and a large, ghastly nose. That evening as Peter sat at the dinner table reading his favourite book, his parents arrived. It was known throughout the school that Peter’s family was quite rich. They lived in a large mansion with the finest furniture from all over the world. Peter’s father had traveled all over the world and talked about living in Hong Kong. “Hello Peter!” his Mother said. She sat down and shot a look at Peter’s father. “Your mother and I need to talk to you,” his father said sternly. “Now Peter, this may come as a shock to you…” his mother explained. “We are moving to Hong Kong,” Peter’s mother and father said at the same time. “What?!” Peter exclaimed. Everything was going too fast. How could his mother and father be hiding this the whole time? “It’s not so far away, and you can still contact your friends,” his mother reminded. “That is if I had friends,” Peter said grumpily as he excused himself from the table. He rushed to his bedroom and dialed Mr. Cooper’s number. “Mr. Cooper!” “Peter - what’s the matter?” Mr. Cooper asked, concerned.

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Fiction: Group 3

“I’m moving! I can’t believe it!” Peter cried. Peter explained what had happened at dinner. “Perhaps this is for the best,” Mr. Cooper said calmly but with a hint of surprise. “I can’t move. I have to meet new people.” “It will be fine Peter,” Mr. Cooper said crossly. “Perhaps,” Peter said. On the moving day, Peter sat at the bottom of the staircase and stared at the ceiling. “Peter? There is someone here to see you,” his mother called. “Thank you, Mrs. Reid.” A deep voice echoed from the halls. As Mr. Cooper walked in, Peter couldn’t help but notice the bulky book sticking out from his arm. “This is for you.” Mr. Cooper handed a book to Peter. Peter stroked the cover of the book and scanned the front cover. Peter saw that it was the copy of Mr. Cooper’s favourite Astronomy book. “Why would you give this to me?” Peter questioned. “Because you are a very special student, Peter. You are the most intelligent, most observant and most stubborn person I have ever met.” Peter smiled at his old teacher and realised that his teacher had trouble standing. “Are you okay, Mr. Cooper?” Peter asked concerned. “Oh, it’s just little limp, that’s all,” Mr. Cooper said, leaning against the banister. “Come on Peter!” His father called from outside. Peter said his good-byes and watched as his old fragile teacher waved goodbye from the steps of his house. As Peter unpacked his suitcase, he pulled out the Astronomy book from the inner pocket. He stared at it and teared up. He threw the book into the back of his closet. On the first day of school, Peter was welcomed by many children just waiting to catch a glimpse of the new student. Peter was overwhelmed by the attention of all of them. “What’s your name?” one student asked. “Where do you come from?” another yelled. “You’re Peter aren’t you?” some would say. Peter was overjoyed to make so many new friends on the first day of school. He had one friend named William who was British and very much enjoyed reading. Another named Gerald who loved to play rugby. Everyone was very friendly to him and liked how intelligently he talked. As the years went by, Peter was accepted into his first choice university and graduated high school as Valedictorian. As he organized his closet to find the clothes to pack for university, his hand touched a very dusty and rather large book. As he pulled it out, he looked at the cover and began to think. In big, bold

Fiction: Group 3

letters read the word ASTRONOMY. Peter began to think about Mr. Cooper and then started to feel guilty. He had remembered how he had considered reading the book before, and then he completely forgot. “ I wonder what he’s up to right now?” Peter said to himself. He opened to the front page. In bright blue there was a message. Peter read aloud to himself. “Dear Peter, I wish to meet you again in the near future. I am very proud of you, and thank you for being the best student a teacher could hope for.” At the end of the message was Mr. Cooper’s e-mail address. Peter rushed to his computer and flipped it open. Opening his e-mail, he typed Mr. Cooper’s e-mail address. Dear Mr. Cooper, I’m not sure if you remember me, I was your old student until I moved to Hong Kong. I just wanted to thank you for everything you helped me through, and for being the best teacher. If you happen to find yourself in Hong Kong, perhaps we can meet up? Thanks, Peter Reid Peter slumped slowly into his bed covers and embraced the feeling. He thought of reconnecting with Mr. Cooper and catching up on life. Peter smiled at the thought of Mr. Cooper. As the sun crept through the slits of the curtains, Peter grumpily moved out of bed. BEEP! Peter’s computer got a notification. Could it be Mr. Cooper? He read his e-mail. Excitement rushed up Peter’s spine and throughout his whole body as he read an email from the one and only Mr. Cooper! Dear Peter, It is very nice to hear from you! I happen to be in the Hong Kong area because I retired and decided to travel the world. We should meet each other! How about near the Pearl River Delta? Thanks, Mr. Cooper Peter and Mr. Cooper e-mailed each other back and forth to make plans. Peter couldn’t wait to hear his exciting stories and tell him about graduation. Peter rushed out the door and into the convertible he was given for graduation. Driving past the speed limit, he pulled up next to the spot they planned to meet. Peter walked around kicking his feet at the grass and staring at the Pearl River as it flowed by. As Peter started making shapes out of clouds, wondering if Mr. Cooper could find his way, an elderly man sat beside him. Peter turned his head around to politely ask the man beside him to move. But, there was something about the old man that seemed familiar. “Mr. Cooper!” Peter exclaimed. “Peter! How nice it is to see you again.” Soon, an hour flew right over Peter’s head. Mr. Cooper stood up and started breathing heavily. “Are you okay?” Peter asked worried. Mr. Cooper did not answer. He started panting really heavily. Peter quickly dialed 9-1-1 and requested an ambulance. Mr. Cooper bent over onto his side and closed his eyes. “ Just hang in there, you’ll be alright,” Peter reassured. “Perhaps we will see each other in another life,” Mr. Cooper said, eyes swelling up with tears. Peter nodded slowly and said the last thing Mr. Cooper would hear. “Perhaps.” Mr. Cooper died that afternoon, looking peacefully across the Pearl River Delta.

Fiction: Group 3

The Case of The Spotty Faced Husband

Hong Kong International School, Chan, Melanie - 12, Fiction: Group 3

sat nibbling my pork chop rice as Ma cleared the table in our compact flat in Hong Kong, one of the densest cities in the Pearl River Delta. As I sneakily wrapped some of my food with my napkin, Popo’s eyes followed every single movement I made. Popo is my maternal grandmother who is visiting for a

fortnight over the Chinese New Year holiday. She is very observant of her grandchildren's behavior, but she seldom criticizes us. “Mei! Are you wasting food again?” Ma questioned. “You know we shouldn’t waste any food.” I sighed. Eating seems like such a painless task, but in truth it is like going on a mission to consume the moon. “I know, Ma. I’m genuinely filled to the brim.” “Ha! Full as a whale inflated with air. Hurry up and finish it or no screen-time.” “Has she finished yet?” My younger sister asked. “Brother and I gulped our share down.” “Do not tease your older sister, Yin. Go play with your brother, Yu,” Ma ordered. “Mei, you will end up marrying a man with a face as spotty as your bowl. Look at the rice that is dotted all over your bowl!” I groaned. Ma always says that to me when I don’t polish all the food off my bowl. I think I’ve heard that saying a trillion times by now! “You always say that! You know that won’t really happen because I would choose a handsome guy to marry,” I argued. Popo laughed. “Your Ma hasn’t told you about the curse?” “What curse? There can’t really be a story about that!” “Why, ‘The Curse of the Spotty Faced Husband’ of course!” exclaimed Popo. The room fell silent as we tried to register what Popo had just said. Finally Popo explained. “The story originated in Auhu, a small village in the Pearl River Delta where I grew up. This tale was told to me by my mother, and it was told to her by her mother.” Curse Of The Spotty Faced Husband “Long ago, in the small village of Auhu, lived a young lady named Ying Hua. She was as beautiful as the Cherry Blossom, but also spoiled because she was the village chief’s only child. She was wasteful, didn’t care about others, and was unappreciative of the luxuries that her parents gave her. She took everything for granted. On top of that, she had a bad habit of wasting food by leaving bits of rice at the bottom of her bowl. One day an old beggar came to her house to beg for food but Ying Hua turned him away, claiming that they didn’t have any food to spare. However, he saw that there were lots of half-eaten food remaining on the dining table. The beggar was furious to learn that Ying Hua would rather waste food than to share it with the hungry. He warned her about a curse that would turn the leftover rice in her bowl into the spots on her future husband’s face. Ying Hua didn’t believe that would happen to her because she was rich and beautiful . . . surely she would marry someone rich and handsome. When Ying Hua was at an age for marriage her parents selected a young and handsome gentleman from the next village to be her groom. ‘So much for that curse!’ Ying Hua thought. However, on his way to pick up his bride on the wedding day, the groom was attacked by a hive of bees and fell off his horse. Strangely, he wasn’t injured anywhere except for his face. He did not want to scare his bride, so he covered his face with a scarf and told her that he had a terrible cough, and didn’t want to pass any germs to her. It wasn’t until the day after the wedding ceremony that Ying Hua found out that her husband’s face was covered with lots of tiny spots...just like the rice that was left in her bowl. ‘The curse is true!’ Word of the curse spread like wildfire. Mothers would warn their daughters and their neighbor’s daughters of ‘The Curse Of The Spotty Faced Husband’.” Silence filled the room until finally Ma shattered it. “So much for the cock and bull story, huh?” “I still think that the story is a bit exaggerated though,” I giggled. “It can’t be that bad to marry a husband with as many spots as a leopard. Look at Ba, he doesn’t look too bad.” “It isn’t about the spots, it’s about wasting food.” Ma remarked. “That’s why you should not waste food.”

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Fiction: Group 3

Popo laughed. “I remember you did the same thing! You were just as naughty as your daughter.” We all laughed as Ma’s face turned red as a beetroot. “I would be clearing the dishes after dinner and your Ma would still be sitting there eating her rice! I had to leave her to clear her own dishes because I had to leave for my night shift work .” We all laughed again. “This is supposed to be about wasting food, not about me!” Ma complained. “If we run out of food we can buy more at the supermarket!” argued Yin. Popo’s eyes darkened and we shrunk back into our seats as Popo shared her experience with us. “Having food is a blessing and we should be thankful. Don’t take things for granted. I had never been to or seen a supermarket when I was a child. When I was your age everybody in our village was malnourished. Famine had hit China. My Third Brother had died of starvation when he was eight years old, and my Eldest Brother got very sick from eating tree bark and raw leaves because there wasn’t anything else to eat. We were lucky if we could find sweet potatoes and yam leaves to eat. We had no food. Our kitchen only had a stone fire pit for cooking, a broom, and a wok hanging on the wall.” “But why didn’t you eat the food you harvested? Your Ba was a farmer!” “It is true that we harvested crops, but the crops were given to the government and to get rice, we had to collect our rations from the communal kitchen. That’s how it goes in Communist China. We didn’t have enough food to eat and we didn’t get new clothes to wear. During that time we needed coupons to get cloth, oil, and salt. One cloth coupon would only be enough to mend our Ba’s pants for work.” “Why didn’t you go buy clothes from the department store?” I asked. Popo chuckled and replied, “There were no department stores in my village.” “Oh. I’m glad Hong Kong was never like that.” “Actually, there were many starving people in Hong Kong during that time as well,” Ma said. “Many villages in the Pearl River Delta, including Hong Kong, were farmland because it is the most fertile part of China. The soil is rich because it contains silt that has washed up from the large river network around the coast, making it the perfect farmland.” I laughed. “It is ironic that people in the fertile land of the Pearl River Delta had undergone famine.” Popo nodded. “During the Great Leap Forward people were forced to increase steel production, so fewer people farmed. Nowadays most of the land has been turned into big cities, so there are less farmlands around.” I giggled. “That’s silly.” Popo frowned. “This is not a laughing matter. Back in my day people starved to death. Did we think it was funny? I think not.” We became still and quiet after hearing that. So many lives gone, and so many could have been saved with the amount of food we waste every day. After I thought about it for a while, I decided that maybe I could improve my eating habits. Perhaps I could even support a charity that feeds the hungry. “I think you should go finish your meal now Mei,” Ma resumed. Yin and Yu laughed and rolled on the carpet. “Too late!” Yu hooted. “We fed it to Ah-Wang!” Ma, Popo, and I swirled around to see that our puppy has licked all of our bowls until they were spotless. “Well,” Ma chortles, “Ah-Wang won’t get a spotty faced husband!”

Fiction: Group 3

Meeting a Saint Immaculate Heart of Mary College, Chao, Ying Chin - 12, Fiction: Group 3

very morning is the same. The strident voice of the people on the street woke me up. I tried to grasp my alarm clock to check the time but I dropped it. I lazily and slowly got up from my cosy bed and packed my things to go to Jiangmen.

As a freelance journalist, I have faced many challenges in my life, including the job I had to do, that was to write book for an award winning TV program ’Travel around the Pearl River Delta’. I had been to many places in China before, but not Jiangmen. I knew it is somewhere in Guangdong. It was the first time for me to go there. I took a ferry from Central to Jiangmen. After three hours, I arrived at the beautiful pier of this historical place. Travelling three hours on a ferry was long enough for having my seasick. I wanted to throw up right after I had arrived in Jiangmen. I could not stand steadily, and my whole body was a bit wobbly. A woman came to hold my arms to help me. I was always a person who could stand on my own two feet but certainly not this time. "Are you okay, sir?" The woman asked me. She was about 40 years old, and she had sportswear on. "I am fine. I just need some hot water or something spicy to eat," I said. "Wait a moment, sir," she went to a kiosk at the pier to get me a cup of hot tea. "Thank you," I smiled at her and tried to give her money for the cup of tea. "No, thanks. Are you from Hong Kong, sir?" she asked. From my Cantonese accent, it was not difficult for her to figure out I was from Hong Kong or Guangdong. "Yes. I came here to write a book about Jiangmen, but I know nothing about this place, not to mention the location of the hotel I have booked into." "Let me see the address, maybe I can show you how to go there." I gave her the paper I had printed out with all the booking details on it. She then helped me to call a taxi, and went to the hotel with me. "Thank you so much," I said. "Do you need someone to show you some famous tourist spots in Jiangmen? That will be good for your writing," she said. "Do you know someone who can help me then?" She then took out a picture, showing me a photo of a man about 50 years old. "He is my elder brother, Zhang Ri Qiang. He has a car, maybe he can take you travelling around. Let me call him to come here now." "Thank you very much," I said gratefully. "Can I pay your brother for his ride?" "As you wish. He doesn't mind if he will have anything in return after helping others anyway." We kept talking for a while, and someone knocked on the door. It was her brother, Ri Qiang. Her brother was not a tall person, and he was even a bit shorter than his sister. I told Ri Qiang what I wanted to do in Jiangmen. It seemed that he was really a helpful and generous person. I suddenly felt how blessed and lucky I was once I had arrived. I should thank God for his blessings. Ri Qiang decided to take me to taste some local food first, as I had not eaten anything so far. We got in his car and he started driving. On the way to a restaurant, I knew more about his family. "What is the name of your sister?" I asked. "She is called Ri Hao. She is a nurse. She is now working at a private hospital, so she can earn more money than before." "I see." "It's not easy for me to get a job. I am the eldest son in the family, so I needed to go out to work when I graduated from primary school. There are many people like me here but luckily my sister knows someone in a travel agency, so I have a part time job there now." When he was trying to tell me more about his family, a bus at a rather high speed suddenly passed ahead of us. We were a bit frightened but something bad was just about to take place. "Oh, Ri Qiang, watch out! The bus driver was very careless! He almost hit our car!"

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Fiction: Group 3

It seems that the bus was speeding, but who would put the lives of the passengers at risk? There might be some problems on the bus. While we were trying to drive forward to take a look at the bus, the bus hit the taxi in front of us, and the poor taxi was pushed into another direction. The taxi was moving towards us. "Turn!" I yelled! Fortunately, Ri Qiang was an experienced driver. He stopped his car immediately. I got out of his car and tried to help the taxi driver and the passengers inside. Ri Qiang used his car to block the road and kept the car lights on, so people would not go this way. " Ri Qiang, you had better stay here to give a sign to the drivers who want to go this way and call the police." "Yes, sure." I rushed to see the driver and passengers in the taxi. The taxi driver’s head was bleeding, so I tried my best to carry him with me. He tried to say thank you to me. "Xie, xie (thank you)..." "Please don't say it now, you had better take a rest on the road first." After putting him on the road to rest, I went back to the taxi to see if there were any passengers inside. "Oh, a pregnant woman! Oh, my gosh! What can I do now?" I was shocked to see a pregnant woman was inside the car, and she could not move at all. I did not know what to do, so I prayed to God. Then, a very handsome man walked towards me. "Are you okay, sir?" "Please help me to take her out. Otherwise, this woman and her baby may not survive this." The man and I tried to pull the taxi door by shaking it hard. After a few minutes, we successfully tore it open. We helped the pregnant woman sit down on the road and to wait for an ambulance. "Thank you, sir," the pregnant woman said. "Don't mention it. The most important thing is you sit down here to take a rest first. Don't worry, the ambulance is coming." While I was talking, I could hear the sound of the ambulance. "Please say thank you to the man who helped tear the door open, "I pointed to that man who helped me save her. But when I looked around, I could not find him. "No, sir. Only you have saved me. I couldn't see anyone else," the woman said. The ambulance eventually arrived and took all of them to the hospital. I wanted to go with them to check their condition, but suddenly, there were so many reporters blocking my way. "Did you save their lives, sir?" "What is your name? Are you a local person?" "Can you tell us what happened?" "What did you see?" I was all of a sudden surrounded by reporters and bombarded by their endless questions. I was startled, and I did not know what to say. The next day, I was named a "Hero" and was in the headlines of the newspapers in China. Even Ri Quiang and Ri Hong had become my big fans, and some people sponsored all my expenses in Jiangmen. I became famous overnight. Now, many people want to invite me for interviews and job appointments. No matter how popular I am now, I cannot forget that man who helped me in the accident. I really wanted to find out who the man was, so I searched for some historical background of the very spot where the accident took place. Then, I found out that was a place where some Italian missionaries stayed a few centuries ago. The Italian missionaries went to this place to spread the Gospel but they were forced to leave China. At that time, the emperor of China commanded that no foreign religion was allowed. Under the ruling of that emperor, most of the missionaries left China. However, one priest insisted on staying behind to serve the Chinese Christians. This priest was later killed by a soldier at that very spot, and people believed he was buried underground somewhere though no one could find his body at all. So, that man might be the good soul of this martyr, and I saw a saint! I hope I can see him again. Every year, I go back to that place and say "Thank you" to my saint.

Fiction: Group 3

Foshan, a Place for Romance Immaculate Heart of Mary College, Cheung, Siu Hei - 13, Fiction: Group 3

ne day, my grandfather told me a love story. This story date back to Qin Dynasty, it was a well-known story in Foshan, which was passed down from generation to generation. Someone may doubt the authenticity of this story, but to me, it is not just a story.

The story started with two teenagers falling in love with each other and got married. Three years later, they had a baby called Stephen Lee. While Stephen was five years old, he was obsessed with art. He drew lots of painting, like dolphins flying in the sky, snails swimming in the sea. Although those paintings were colourful, nobody liked his works. Teachers thought he was crazy and his classmates laughed at him. He was always alone at school. Though no one liked Steven’s paintings, he never gave up drawing despite all the tease. Steven had a friend called Mary Cheung. Her eyes were glittering like shining stars in the sky, and her pointed nose enhanced her charming beauty. Steven thought Mary was the most beautiful woman in the world. Unfortunately, Mary was disabled due to an accident two years ago. Besides drawing, Steven also had another hobby which was hiking. Since he was seven years old, he found a hill and a steam behind his house. The turquoise water was clear, and there were different kinds of fish jumping up and down in the river. The trees on the hill were also very tall and big. They looked as if they were more than a few hundred years old. Steven was always inspired by the smiling flowers and chunky tall trees and produced lots of landscape paintings. His favorite mountain was called Mount Xiqiao. There was an enormous tree. Steven thought it represented life, happiness and health. Steven had a dream which was to being Mary to this beautiful place and praised the peace and silence. However, Mary’s legs could not move so Steven always gave her the paintings he drew and wished Mary could contemplate the beauty of Mount Xiqiao. One day, Steven went to a mountain with his Four Treasures of Study in order to draw a painting for Mary’s birthday. When Steven was drawing, he found that the weather was becoming foggy. Suddenly, it rained and started thundering. Luckily, he found a cave on the path of mountain so he got in. The weather became worse. Steven could not leave the cave. Water was flooding into the cave, and his life was in danger. So, he had no choice but walked further into the cave. As he moved on, he found torches inside. He could not hear the water flow anymore and the ground was dry. Finally, Steven entered a room and saw a bed in front of him. He walked towards it and found a dying man lying on the bed. Steven was very stunned and dropped his painting on the ground and asked, ‘Are you alright? When the rain stopped, I’ll take you out and save you.’ The man saw the painting and Steven, then said, ‘Don’t worry. Look at your painting. What a good artist! I am so glad to see we have this kind of artist in China. Look! Your painting brush is old. That is my favorite drawing brush in the stone. Now it is yours. Go and pick it up.’ Steven went in front of the stone. The painting brush looked choked in the stone. He turned his head back but the man had disappeared. There was a sound speaking to him, ‘This painting brush is for the best artist. You can draw the best picture. Do not give up because of others’ criticism. Work hard! I give you my magic power.’ Steven was stunned, overjoyed but frightened, so he ran as fast as he could. When he reached the mouth of the cave, the rain stopped. The view there was the most beautiful one he had ever seen. He drew the view with his old brush. When he got back home, he used the new brush and drew a portrait of Mary as her birthday present. In the picture, Mary was not disabled anymore and she could run! When Steven arrived at Mary’s home, he saw the most unbelievable thing in his life—Mary was running to him. Steven was surprised and he hugged Mary promptly. ‘When I got up, I could feel my feet. I can walk now!’ Steven thought, ‘This brush can make anything I draw become true, so fantastic!’ He told everything in the cave to Mary. Since Steven healed Mary’s leg, they started dating. Time flied, this couple got married after two years. One day, Mary went to a market and bought food for dinner, crowds were standing around a poster, ‘We are going to fight against the Qin Government. Every man must go and join the war!’ Mary was very

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frightened because she did not want to lose Steven so she ran back home immediately and told Steven what she had seen. Steven saw some of his friends had already been caught by soldiers. He was very afraid. Luckily, he saw Mary running to him. Mary told Steven everything she had just seen. Steven packed all their stuffs at once and ran away. When they left the town, they found that there were so many soldiers surrounding them. Steven used his new brush and drew a solid wall between the soldiers and them. A few hours later, Steven and Mary escaped. They went to the cave where Steven found the new painting brush. They were safe now. ‘Your brush can make anything you draw come true. Maybe you can draw a peaceful world in Foshan. I hate wars!’ Mary suggested. Steven also thought that he can pave the path for peace of the Qin Government and Foshan. Therefore, he painted a picture with children playing with one another, students studying happily and adults working in the field. After that, he caught a pigeon and tied this picture to his feet. Then, they let the pigeon out. His dream came true really. Two days later, the day before the war, Steven heard this: The Foshan Government and the Qin Government are in alliance now. They will never fight against each other forever! The spokesman said that people should thank a man called Steven Lee.’ When Steven and Mary heard it, they left the cave and the people of Foshan welcomed them. They became the heroes of Foshan! Twenty years later, Mary died of a disease. In the same year, Steven went back to the cave and put back the painting brush in the stone. After many years, a child came into the cave. He picked up the painting brush again…

Fiction: Group 3

The Memoir of My Success Immaculate Heart of Mary College, Fan, Lok Sum - 12, Fiction: Group 3

ongratulations, Angel! Good job!’

This was the compliment that the experts paid me. They all congratulated me since I had invented some wonderful and meaningful products and machines to make Foshan

people’s life more comfortable and convenient. Today is a great day to me and I am so glad to become a successful inventor!!!!

Actually, as an impatient person like me, I never thought that I could be a successful as well as an out-standing inventor when I was young. It is because to achieve a perfect project, I had to work around the clock so as to carry out a lot of experiments and exercises. It was never easy, and it was a big challenge to an impatient person like me. It took a long time during the whole process. For so many times, I wanted to give up when I failed but I tried to keep going until I could get the result. On the 21st October of 2000, my twelfth birthday, I moved to Hong Kong with my family for

studying. At that time, Hong Kong people hated the mainlanders, and they even called them “Locusts”. I was really very furious about that. Therefore, I decided to do my best and to work hard so Hongkongers will not look down upon me. However, my English was very weak and I couldn’t catch up the curriculum. Most of my classmates were not willing to help me and I felt really dismay and helpless. I had just looked like a lonely goat standing on an expanse and wilderness land and waiting the other partners to save me. My examination result was pretty poor actually. Luckily, Miss Fan saved me in the dark canyon. She taught me Integrated Science and English. She helped me to improve my learnings, especially English with some extra vocabulary lists and exercises. She also encouraged me to read more English storybooks and set a reading limit to me too. Gradually, my English level and other subjects had improved under her guidance. Besides, she made the Integrated Science lessons more interesting with her flexible and intriguing teaching skills and I love this subject very much unwittingly because I was very contented and delighted when I finished an invention.

Once upon a time in my form five Integrated Science lesson, Miss Fan asked my classmates and me to invent something that could make people’s daily life more convenient. At that moment, I felt really nervous and scared as I didn’t have any idea about that.

”Oh! I need to hand in the works after a week! But I have no idea to this,” I thought very anxiously. Abruptly, she said again,” This work will be counted into your exam results too,” I felt more worried

than before meanwhile. I had thought for a long time, even having lunch, but I still had no ideas.

Unexpectedly, I had a scheme until I saw my classmate, Lawrence who was a fat boy. He was on the class duty this week for sweeping the floor with a broom after school. He was sweating and he looked so tired too. When I saw his condition, I decided to invent a tool to mitigate his fatigue.

On my way home, I thought constantly,” What can I do? Let me try with some simple things: Towels.”

When I came back home, I took some old towels to do this experiment immediately. First, I put two towels under a pair of slippers and used a shoelace to tie them up. Then I started to test it but this method didn’t work since the towels broke easily. However, I kept trying instead of giving up because I remembered that Miss Fan had said these discourse:

She said,” Everyone must have met a lot of frustration and failure even the great inventor like Thomas Edison. But he had never surrendered to them. He still kept on trying and his perseverance made him very successful at last. Therefore, we should learn from him and keep trying when you were in troubles.”

I tried again with this attitude after a while. I changed another method when I saw the back of a duster. First I cut it into two parts and made a hole at the end of it. Then I passed through a rope which had a buckle into the hole of the duster. When I tested it, I put the foot into the hole of the duster and started racing. It worked and it was really comfortable like skating on the ice. I thought that it could solve the problem truly at that time. I thought that it could help Lawrence to keep fit and support the environmental protection because I was reusing some waste.

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The day after, I took it to Lawrence and let him try. He felt good and more convenient when he used it to sweep.

“Yeah! I am likely to be successful,” I thought that time. After a week, I handed in my work and I was praised by Miss Fan since the function of my work. She supported my work and invited me to join an inventing competition too. Everyone looked at me with another way since that moment. I felt very surprised and pleased, and I wanted to say thank you to Miss Fan.

I am so glad that I met a good teacher, Miss Fan, during my study in Hong Kong. I had learnt a lot of life principles from her. For example, I have learnt that I should never give up and keep being optimistic when I am in difficulty. I must persist until the last, so that I can be the winner. Thus, my behavior and my attitude have changed since I moved to Hong Kong. I had also learnt that I should always help others in need so I decided to be an inventor. And I eventually understand that why the inventors mind to use their valuable time to do some experiments that may have no results and conclusion. In addition, through the teaching of Miss Fan, I had improved a lot on studies. I become the best in the exam at the end of the school term and I was promoted to study Integrated Science at The Chinese University of Hong Kong. Through those years of studying, I learnt more knowledge and skills for doing scientific research. I have invented more useful things which are suitable for every Hong Kong person. I was so glad that I have this achievement and I thank my parents who supported me to do these woks and also my teachers, especially Miss Fan. “Thank you, Miss Fan!”

Fiction: Group 3

Crossing the Boundary Immaculate Heart of Mary College, Ho, Sum Yin - 14, Fiction: Group 3

urry up!” said Mum. “Coming!” I said. I was playing with my adorable, energetic younger brother, Carl.

“Hey!” Mum yelled. Ignoring her, I was still spinning my top. “Do you want me to scold at you?” her yell pierced through air even into my nostrils. “Aren’t you scolding me already?” I murmured and reluctantly went back to my room. Mum was packing our clothes and other stuff. “Sweetie, please help me to put all these things into these bags, we're leaving.” said Mum. I did not ask her any questions, because I just saw tears linger in her eyes. It was 1995. A mother, a five-year-old boy and a six-year-old girl were dashing to the train station. That six-year-old girl was me. I wouldn't forget what happened that year. They were indelible. They were just like videos being played back in my mind, every single day till the day I die. I did not know what had happened, but I knew that I would not see Dad anymore. We went on the train. “Mama, where are we going?” I asked. “Hong Kong,” Mum answered. This blew my mind. Why were we going to Hong Kong? Where was Dad? What happened? I could hardly clear up my doubt. I gazed through the nasty, fogged-up window. The night had fallen. The dazzling moon was hanging in the dark blue sky. I felt drowsy and couldn’t help falling asleep. Suddenly, Mum woke me up with a maniacal shake. Some footsteps were crunching along the floor. Mum urged us to hide under the seats. “They're not here.” There was a voice. As we arrived at the station, we sneaked away immediately. “Mama, who were they?” my doubt was still there. But she stayed silent. We arrived in Shenzhen anyway. The street was studded with pedlars. Some of them sold braised sweet potatoes, fancy costumes, fragrant chestnuts and exotic fruits. Carl and I were very much fascinated. Mum bought two sweet potatoes for us. I could feel a wave of happiness flowing through inside. Meanwhile, two strange men caught my immediate attention. They were in all black shirts and pants. One of them was heavily freckled and the other one had a spine-chilling scar on his cheek. They stared at us queerly. Carl and I leant into mum’s arms, as though it were a shelter, safe enough. ‘There they are,’ I thought I could read their lips. They abruptly dashed towards us and we had no choice but to flee instinctively, even though we were totally ignorant of why we were being hunted. I really had to thank god for the crowds in the street, which the two men could not make a way to jostle through. In a dark alley where we hid ourselves behind bunches of bamboos, we could hear one another’s heartbeats, loud like thunder. When we arrived in Hong Kong, Uncle John, who was Dad's best friend, gave a shelter to us. Uncle John was a doctor. He was intelligent and amiable. He did not only become my teacher but also my life guru. Whenever I had problems and difficulties in my studies, he would always be there to help me out. He adopted a boy called Charles. We became inseparable friends. 25-12- 2003 (After 8 years) Uncle John led us to the basement of our house where we had always been forbidden to step in. There he announced something horrible. Not until that particular moment could I realise my parents, Charles’ parents and Uncle John were all in the campaign to sabotage the government. They had been doing everything to unveil the government’s secret files. As they knew that the secret agents would soon find them, dad told mum to take us to Hong Kong. I could finally associate the two hitmen we saw in Shenzhen with the scene now. “Now the Hong Kong government has betrayed us,” a man grumbled in a furious.

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All the people in the basement were the members of this campaign. Some of them were internationally-known entrepreneurs. That had been financially supporting the campaign. “We want to save Hong Kong. We want to defend our homeland. Will you help us?” Uncle John queried and looked at Carl, Charles and me. “Of course,” we replied. One day, Charles, Carl and I were in a pub. “Why don't we just assassinate the party leader and revolt?” Charles suggested. “Of course not. If we killed him, we would become murderers. We might bring trouble to the campaign,” I said. Carl agreed with me. “How about revealing their secrets to all people? The crimes of this government can’t be unknown to the people forever,” Charles said. “Good idea!” Carl and I shouted together. In 2014 ( After 11 years ) Charles and I became doctors and a couple. Charles was the attending physician of Mr Wong, party leader of Hong Kong. Carl was the personal assistant of Wong. We vowed to revenge on Mr Wong and other people in the alliance. 19/12/2014 A man that came from the Mainland China was in Wong's office. He was the military leader. “Carl, please go out. We have something to talk,” Wong commanded. There were eavesdropping devices in the lamp, behind the bookshelf and under the desk. Carl put on a pair of headphones. “When will you start the plan?” The man asked. “8pm, 25th December. because it is Christmas, most of the people will go out to celebrate. This is the best time to arrest the rebels. Could you make sure your people are ready on the border by 24th?” Wong answered. 20/12/2014 At night, Carl sneaked into Mr Wong's office. There were important documents about the arrest in 25th December. Wong, at that unfortunate moment, came back. Carl, however, could not manage to hide himself under the desk. “Tell me, why on earth are you here,” asked Mr Wong which was blue in the face. “Your phone, put it here. NOW!” Mr Wong shouted and became insane. Carl threw his phone out of the window and pushed Wong against the wall. As the guards broke into the office, Carl jumped out of the window of the office which was on the first floor. However, Carl hit his head on a tree. He lost his conscious and was caught by the guards immediately. Mr Wong commanded the guards to search for Carl's phone. However, no one could find it. 21/12/2014 Carl was in a secret cell in the hospital where I was working in. He was in coma and I was assigned to take care of him. The next day, when I was checking Carl's blood pressure, he opened his eyes astonishingly. We were afraid that the guards near us would overhear our conversation, so I first distracted the guard. Carl blew a puff of air to the mirror. Then, he wrote on the moist surface. The mirror wrote, ‘My phone’. “What is it ?” I wondered. 22/12/2014 Charles went to Mr Wong's office to check Mr Wong's wound.

Fiction: Group 3

“What happened?” asked Charles, as if he didn’t know what had happened. “I just slipped.” Mr Wong replied. After confirming Mr Wong's wound would not worsen, Charles left. Charles strolled down the path where Carl threw his phone last night. Suddenly, a light ray was reflected into Charles eyes. Charles was very curious, so he wanted to know what that was. He saw a mobile phone on the ground behind the bushes. He was sure that phone was Carl's because of the case of the phone. Charles picked up the phone and rushed to find an experienced repairman to repair Carl's phone. 23/12/2014 The next day was the day that the people of the military leader would be ready on the borader. Some campaign members sneaked to the mainland to damage the buses which the army would use on 24th December. They used knives to stab the tyres of the buses. 24/12/2014 However, things did not go as the campaign members had expected. The army went to Hong Kong successfully. At night, the campaign members met in our basement again. “We have worked hard for many years. We want overthrow this government and defend Hong Kong. Carl's phone has been repaired. Tomorrow, we will announce their crimes to the world. Defend Hong Kong!” Uncle John vociferated. 25/12/2014 At 8:00 a.m., the hackers of our campaign hacked into all computers, television and mobile phones of all Hong Kong citizens to unveil everything about the government. All the people in Hong Kong were then informed about what the government had done before. All of them realised that Hong Kong needed a true democratic system to elect their government so that it could really serve the people in Hong Kong. In the following few months, there were massive protests across the city. At last, Chinese Government settled for it, thus a true democratic system in Hong Kong.

Fiction: Group 3

An Anecdote, My Countless Blessings Immaculate Heart of Mary College, Ko, Wai Hong - 13, Fiction: Group 3

was alone on a frosty morning. The bitter wind was so chilly that I had to close the windows. Standing by them, I eventually discovered how life could be so tranquil and peaceful. Some people were walking on the street, enjoying their daily lives, feeling happy to do what they had to do. They chatted, they

giggled, they waved goodbye to each other. They were simply happy. Could I be so happy? I wanted to remember how happy I was when I was young, trying to create my own successful story, trying to be somebody, trying to attain fame for myself and...but it was all over.

It was 1995. I worked as a financial planner in an international company called Phoenix in Dongguan. We, fresh graduates of universities, were trained to be top salesmen, men who had ambitions to work hard and to obtain money from the customers by all means. As a freshman in 1995, I was passionate and enthusiastic. I loved my job, and no one could stand in the way of my success.

The business world is not for innocent people. It is a cruel world. No mercy, no love. Only if you can grasp power and money, then you can survive in this business world. I knew this very well, and remembered this by heart.

A black suit and a nicely ironed shirt were my uniform. We were all the same, in black suits, as no one was allowed to dress in other colours from day one when you went to work there till the last day. The colour, black, actually might not be a suitable colour for me, however, we were only salespersons so we had no right to change any policy. Our shoes had to be polished too. If we did not dress well to go to work, we might receive a good lecture from the managers.

Day and night, I worked at least 14 hours at the office, swiftly running from one room to another in order to get my work done.

On my desk, files were always stacked at precarious angles on top of each other, and those were my clients’ files. My client might spend all their time earning money, forgetting many other good things in their lives, and they wanted to use their money to generate more money. Unfortunately, some of them were too aggressive and greedy. They lost every penny in the end.

This was my third year there, working as a financial planner. My office was located at the town centre, which was indeed the new part of the city. It was not difficult for me to find many old and short brick houses or even huts in Dongguan. They did not only look ancient to me, but I could also know more about the history of China here. The broken brick walls, the sand, the unpaved paths at rural side carried the scars of the wars or other events which took place in Dongguan before. Anyway, when I had free time, I liked to visit the countryside, as I could be completely removed from the stir of the busy town centre.

The management board of our company was formed by a group of wealthy businessmen. One of these directors was also a Hong Kong man. His name was Boris. He was a close friend of mine. One day, he asked me to go to his home for his birthday party. I had known him for two years but that was the first time for me to go to his house.

His house, of course, was much bigger than mine, or I should say it was a huge one. There was a big garden and a swimming pool. He got quite a number of servants, helping him keep his house clean. I would say his house was spotless, as I could hardly find any dust there.

The floor was waxed and shiny. When we had finished dinner, he talked to me seriously. "I want you to..." while he was talking, he kept pouring wine into my glass. "I don't drink wine," I said. "This is very good wine from Europe, and it is very expensive. You should try it, my dear friend. I don't

let others taste it, only you." "That's really my honour then." I did not drink too much as I was pleased to hear what he said, so I drank

the first glass of wine. "Actually, you can help me to." he kept pouring his precious wine into my glass. "I can't drink anymore, and that's pretty enough for me," I said. "I am sure you can. How can a salesperson not drink wine? You have to get used to it," he said. Boris kept pouring wine into my glass. Actually, after drinking a glass of wine, I felt a bit dizzy, and I

could not talk too much anymore. Boris was looking at me to see if I would drink the second glass of wine. "I wanted you to sign this contract. After signing this contract, you will be a boss of one of my factories in

Jiangmen, and you can enjoy bonus every year without working so hard."

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"Sign here, my best friend," he passed me his pen. When I wanted to look at it, I was drunk and fell asleep. I did not sign it.

When I woke up in the morning, I was on the sofa of my house. There was a contract on my dining table. I did not remember if I had signed it or not but my signature was there.

I knew it. It was a trap or it was a big gift from my friend. Anyway, I did not sign this contract, so I should ask my friend about it.

When I went to get my car, I saw a poor beggar asking for money. He was wearing dirty clothes, looked shabby and hungry. I was a bit touched by his poor situation, but I only had $100 in my pocket. I did not hesitate, as I could take my money from the bank later, so I gave him all I had.

When this beggar looked at the $100 banknote, he was very happy and said "Thank you" to me. "You are welcome," I replied. "You better go to solve your problem immediately," he warned me. Then, he suddenly looked at me in

my eyes. I wanted to ask him more questions but I dropped my phone. When I wanted to ask him more questions,

he was gone. Anyway, I wanted to see my friend, Boris, but I could not reach him either. "Mr. Lee. Boris quit our company last month. Don't you know?" his secretary, Jenny told me. "What?" "He resigned last month," Jenny said. "Do you know the reason?" "Sorry, Mr. Lee, I don't know. I am waiting for my new boss to come. I only overheard some people

saying that Boris might have some financial problems." "I see. Thank you." I left his office and returned to my room. I was puzzled and confused. If he had

financial problem, then why did he give me his factory? Was it a gift or a trap? While I was pondering what had happened in my room, I felt so hungry, so I went to a fast food

restaurant nearby to buy something to eat. I was so hungry that I rushed into the restaurant, but just at the time I almost stepped into the restaurant, I

saw the same beggar walking in front of me again. He smiled to me. "Here is what you need to solve your problem. Good luck, young man," he gave me a small piece of

paper with a number on it. "What is this number for?" I asked. He did not answer my question and went away. After eating something at the restaurant, I used my mobile phone to try to call that number. "Dongguan Police Station..." "Sorry, wrong number," I hung up the call. Then, I wondered why the beggar gave me this number. Did I need to call the police? What for? I remembered I had a contract with my signature on it even though I had not signed it. I really had better

report it to the police. I ran back to my office and took the contract with me to go to the police station at once. The police station was just a few blocks away, so I did not bother to drive my car.

The police put all the details I told them on record, and they made a copy of the contract. I did not return to the office after going to the police station. For what had happened was too much for me, so I would rather go home to take a rest. I turned on the TV, the news report just started.

"The workers of No. One Textile Factory in Jiangmen are still looking for their boss, Mr. Chan Hoi Man. They have been looking for their boss for three months for their salary. Some workers are going to Dongguan to find him, hoping that..."

"Chan Hoi Man? Isn't that Boris' name?" Luckily, I reported everything to the police. I wanted to give some money to the beggar who had warned

me. However, I could not find him anymore. After a few months, I quit my job and joined a charitable organisation. Now, I am a full time project

coordinator at Oxfam. I realise what I truly want in my life.

Fiction: Group 3

What Happened in the Pearl River Delta? Immaculate Heart of Mary College, Leung, Sin Lam - 12, Fiction: Group 3

ello, my name is Catherine. I am a sparrow. I have brown feathers, a pair of black little eye like sesame and a little cute beak. I live in Dongguan, a southern part in Guandong China. Last year, my parents had a serious sickness because they ate some polluted food shortly after we

settled down to this new home. We are new immigrates as we had been lived in Beijing, a place in northern part of China where it is very cold in the winter time. We decided to move far to the south because we hope that there will be more food and milder in weather. When the time we just arrived, we thought that Dongguan is a great place to be our new home. Here is a big city which acts as a centre for different kinds of industries which include garment manufacturing, foot wear manufacturing and trading etc. It is also a famous of entertainment city that stays crowd and busy at night time. you can see neon lights everywhere in the city. As we have already been in this city, we have no plan to go back to the north. Besides I have to take

well care of my parents. I tried to find out the reason why the food here makes my parent sick. One day, I flew over the city and looked around to see what the people are doing in the daytime and how they are living. Also I met some new friends when I was solving my problem in this trip, which I realized that they were facing the same problems, environmental pollution, like me. The air quality in Dongguan is not better than Beijing because there are a lot of factories. The exhausted gas emission from the factories here caused air pollution. We felt suffocated while flying over these factories, to stay long in such places will make one get sick easily.

When I started my flight, I looked up to the sky, but the sky was grey, not blue. I was really shocked about that. How can people harm the nature so seriously? I think the reason of the air pollution is firstly there are more factories in Dongguan. And the fuel which the factories used is cheap and unclean. They polluted the air so much. Then I fly into the city to look what the people usually do there were many people. I saw they were chatting and playing. But most of them work in the factories. So the people are like to build more and more factories because many people are workers. They work in the factories all day. But the air pollution won’t pollute our food so I don’t think this is not the reason why my parents are sick. So I fly to another place to find my answer.

Then I flew to the seaside near the river . I saw some trucks there unloading the rubbish into the sea! Where not far from there in the sea, I saw a few fishing boats fishing there. I can’t believe people can do this to cause sea pollution. The coastal water is floating with plastic bags, metal cans, even food. The animals in the sea are very poor, they will die by eating these toxic rubbish. At that time, I met my first friend, he is a crab calledJacky. He has the problem like me, his family has a serious sickness because they ate the plastic bags and bottles. Jacky is really worried about it. He doesn’t know how to do can save his parents. He like to join the adventure with me. We will find out the reason of our parents sick.

After I met Jacky the crab, we went to the park to see the buildings of Dongguan. The buildings there are high and they are close to each other. It is like a big screen in front of us. Jacky said, “These building, will block the wind so birds will find it hard to fly.” We rest for a while and share our live habit and family members. When we start to fly over the city, we meet another sparrow, she is called Cassidy. She says she has lived in Dongguan for a long time. Jacky and I tell her our problem. She said,’Dongguan isn’t the worst place before. After the people build high buildings and factories, the air becomes worst and worst. But now still there are some places here not having these high buildings yet, do you want me to take you there?’ I am very excited that I have met a new friend now. We fly about an hour to go there. Although it is exhausting but I think there must be a beautiful place. After we arrive, Jacky and I are amazed. High montains, river and forests. ‘Why doesn’t this place have high buildings and factories, then how do the people live?’I asked. Cassidy replied,’ It isn’t a city here, this place is a country. People live by farming and fishing, even trading. So here doesn’t have any pollution yet.’ The air in this place is really fresher. I wish I can live here but now my parents are too weak to fly. Jacky said,’ We can have some ideas to let your parents move here. I can ask my friends in the river to help know some fish friends, they are friendly. I will get a big piece of banana leaf to form a boat, then your parents can have a ride on it, our friends they are Billy and Nicole will safeguard them to make sure they will have a safety ride on the water without falling into the river. We all thought this is a great idea so we

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needed to fly back our home to prepare this journey. The next day, Cassidy and I helped my parents to fly to the pond to meet Jacky and his fish friends. Jacky had prepared a really big piece of banana leaf and put onto his friends back. My parents see all of us are working hard for their trip, they were impressed. In that afternoon, we were ready for preparing. Jacky stayed at my parents side to make them safe. Cassidy flew to the high sky to look for destination. And I lead the fish to swim. After an hour, we finally arrived. I saw my parents were feeling better after we arrived. They thanked us and enjoyed this beautiful, unpolluted land. They praised the air here was very fresh and the food was pure and delicious too! We were happy to bring my parents here. We hope they will get well soon. I thanked my friends so much because they helped a lot. At the end, Jacky, Cassidy and I become good friends. We had gone through a lot of things. We always stay together and have meal and play. We also will take care of our parents who have moved to this country place. Our parents both become friends too. They said they are happy to meet each other. We know the pollution of this place, so we always go through cites and forests to tell the animals there what happen now in their living place. We also will share our story with them to let them know the importance of the nature. They said they are worried because the human now always harm their habitat, for example, cutting trees, hunting them and take away their food. We all think the people are selfish, only do what they want but they won’t see what happen to the nature and always harm the animals. They should think of some ideas to do their things but not harm us, for example, don’t put the rubbish to the sea, don’t over-fishing or hunting and don’t pollute the air. Lastly, I hope the people can protect us, don’t let us extinct and disappear on the earth forever.

Fiction: Group 3

A Test of True Love Immaculate Heart of Mary College, Sung, Fung Man - 12, Fiction: Group 3

rue love transcends all boundaries. Only treating others with a bona fide heart, then we may learn the true meaning of love in our lives. To love someone, it takes all our strength, and there is no bottom line at all.

Zhuhai, a place where you can find fantastic scenery as well as famous amusement parks and restaurants, therefore, many Hong Kong people like paying a visit there for a day off, getting more fresh air and getting away the jittery troubles in their works. However, it maybe also a good place to start a love story… Jackson ---- a typical office staff, staying at the company all day long. Jackson came from the ‘J Family’. He and his family’s English names all started by J. His father’s name is Jack so his son is called Jackson. Is it funny? He and his friends think so. One day, he needed to go to Zhuhai for a business trip, and everything started there. Anna ---- comes from ‘A Family’. She is the sister of Amy. They were a pair of ‘enemies’. They always quarrelled with each other. Their mother would like to resolve their hatred, so she arranged a trip to Zhuhai together. Amy ---- Anna’s sister. She is very kind to one another but not to Anna, so everyone thought that she was a good girl. Everyone played with her. She always had a good time with her friends. But when she went home, the first thing that she would do was to go to her bedroom to avoid seeing Anna. So, their quarrel always happened at the dinner time and breakfast time, usually initiated by just some small matters. Today is the first day for Jackson, Anna and Amy to play together in Zhuhai. They were on the same plane, and they sat together. They started to chat with one another. ‘Hi. I am Anna,’ said Anna. ‘This is my sister Amy. What’s your name?’ ‘My name is Jackson. Why are you going to Zhuhai? I am for business, but I will also stay there for one more month to relax. I have spent too much time in my office,’ said Jackson. Amy said, ‘we go there because our……mmmmm!’ Anna covered Amy’s mouth and said, ‘Just for fun only. Not anything else.” After a while, they became friends. They found out that they stayed at the same hotel. They went there together and checked-in. ‘Amy, I feel good about him, and how about you?’ ‘Yes, I think so. He is so handsome.’ They talked about him for all day. Jackson thought that Anna and Amy were very funny. He was very happy to meet them. These days, they always met one another. Anna and Amy went to meet him all the time. They both fell in love with Jackson. They started to talk with him more and. Jackson felt very in a fog. After his job every day, Anna and Amy will have dinner with him. After a few days, Jackson felt their affection. He thought about it for a few nights, he told himself that he should think what he should do. At that moment, he only crushed on Anna but not Amy. What should he do? He couldn’t think of any idea to solve this problem, too. Can you think any idea for him? He didn’t have enough confident to tell Anna and Amy. He always avoided meeting them, Anna and Amy. Their friendship started to fracture. Anna and Amy finally couldn’t resist. They went to find Jackson themselves and told him that they like him. He told them that they all like them. It is because he didn’t want Amy to angry of him. Anna and Amy don’t trust him, so they give him some time. At this moment, they try to treat Jackson well. They had dinner at a western restaurant, watching fireworks displays and romantic films. But Jackson still love Anna, his heart had never changed. A few days later, Amy knew the truth. She started to hate Anna. Anna wasn’t happy about that. It is because she had no idea of what was happening. She tried to ask Jackson but he lied to Anna. He said that he also did not know. Because of this, Amy started to approach to Jackson. Jackson didn’t want Amy always to get too close to him, so one night he phoned Anna and told her the truth. ‘I felt so sorry that I didn’t tell you the truth at first,’ said Jackson. ‘I don’t care because you told me the truth at last, no need to sorry to me,’ replied Anna. ‘Let’s think of an idea that how to explain to Amy first. After a night, they thought of an idea that they all agree to do. They thought that Amy will be very angry so that they will not tell her. They decided to leave Zhuhai together and live in Taiwan. Unluckily, Amy was outside the door so she overheard the chat between Anna and Jackson. She was angry that she went back to

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her room to steal Amy’s passport. It was because she didn’t want Amy and Jackson to leave Zhuhai. She also wanted to steal Anna’s lover ---- Jackson. When midnight came, Anna went to the locker and wanted to pick out the passport, and she was shocked to know that it was not there anymore. Looking at the empty locker, she did not know what to do, she call Jackson and said sorry to him. They were very disappointed. Amy wanted to let Anna leave Jackson, so she lied to Anna that their mother was seriously ill and they need to go to back to Hong Kong to take care of their mother. Anna trusted in Amy’s words, and she decided to tell Amy that she lost the passport, so she needed to go to apply for a new one. Amy picked out the passport and told Anna that she helped her keep the passport last night because she worried that she would forgot to get the passport. Anna was startled because she did not know that why Amy would know about their idea. ‘Why will you know the secret between Jackson and me, Amy?’ ‘I don’t know what you are talking about. You must be joking, and let me tell you that is not funny at all,’ said Amy. Anna was very angry and she cried to Amy. ‘Why are you so selfish? Why do you think that the whole world should follow you? And, Jackson told me that he doesn’t like you. He doesn’t want you to be so angry, so he said that he loved you. I really can’t believe that you can do such selfish and silly thing!” ‘It is because I love him. I don’t want to see you and him loving each other,’ Amy said and Anna both cried. Anna liked Jackson, Amy liked Jackson, and Jackson liked Anna, but Jackson didn’t like Amy. That was really a typical love triangle. I am sure no one in this world knows how to solve these kinds of problems. After the quarrel between Anna and Amy, Jackson thought that he did something wrong. He should not like Anna or Amy. If he back home earlier, he would not see Amy cry and would not see Anna to be sad. He also thought that he broke Amy and Anna’s relationship. It made him did not felt well, so when Anna and Amy were arguing, Jackson left… After a while, their quarrel stopped. It is because they were very tired. They saw that Jackson had left already. They were in a fog that time. Amy found that Jackson dropped them a line: Sorry Anna and Amy, I broke up yours relationship. I have to leave now. I love you all. Don’t miss me. Forget me. It will be good for both of you…When Anna and Amy read the note, they hugged and cried. ‘Sorry,’ said Anna. ‘Amy, I should not take away your beloved. Sorry,’ ‘No, Anna, I shouldn’t argue with you,’ replied Amy. Since then, they knew they had to support each one another. Although they still quarrel sometimes, they understand each other more. They have learnt an important lesson in Zhuhai, and that is also their momentum to care about their family members and to love them by heart.

Fiction: Group 3

Where is Your Innocence, Pearl River Delta? Immaculate Heart of Mary College, Tung, Ka On - 13, Fiction: Group 3

am from Well-Developed-Planet (the short form is “WDP”).As what its name implies, we can know that it is a well-developed planet. The fact is all creatures on this planet can survive without water, air and food, unlike the ones on

another planet. Of course, we are the only kind here, and there is no other kind of creature at all. It seems that we are deserted from other planets; however, we enjoy our own tiny world. Two years ago, I was inspired to think more about our “existence”. My lovely pet’s livelihood isn’t as well-developed as our planet-it couldn’t survive unless it had enough water, air and food. It is a kind of whale which is in grey colour, so I called it “Seastone”, which means a grey stone in the sea. “Oh, my God! My glorious God! Are you going to kill the creature you made?” I was startled to know how the planet I am living is so cruel to my pet. In order to save nearly-dead Seastone, I searched for some suitable planets for it and I found the Earth is the most suitable one. I was still very worried. Maybe I worried about Seastone so much that I rush to the Earth as quick as I could. On the way, I felt my heart beating faster and faster, but my rocket shoes were soaring slower and slower. I knew it was my illusion. I was over nervous. I couldn’t wait for my rocket shoes to land when I saw the Earth became closer and closer. Pump! I jumped through the atmosphere and came down rapidly. Luckily, my shoes had the function of reducing counterforce. I didn’t get hurt. The God of Death had just walked past Seastone - a wide sea was in front of my eyes! I put Seastone into the water immediately. When I raised my head, a source of warm power heated me up. My intuition told me “Do not be scared. It is the temperature of sun which you have never felt on your planet.” I observed the surrounding. The Earth was really natural without any pollution like an innocent child, although it has been existing for many hundred million. However, nobody was able to predict its future, even the modern machines and high intelligence quotient of us-the upper class creature on WDP. No one would dare to prophesize the fate of this beautiful planet, or I would say, maybe no one was interested in any predictions. This was a very meaningful experience. Through the GPS linked to my multifunctional watch, I knew we were located in Amazon Rainforest where the largest part of the Earth’s lung was. No wonder a sight of verdant plant was everywhere. Suddenly, there was a cruel lion with sharp teeth, dashing toward us when I jumped into the water to flee for my life. I did not know whether I would success. It was depended on fate. What a test! This time, I became more careful and more serious on finding Seastone’s new home. A rude eager nosedived and caught a little chick from its mother. Even though the chick’s mum cried to death, the eager never showed its kindness. Why was it willing to hurt an innocent creature? A group of colourful and glistening fish was playing in a lake enjoyably, but they didn’t notice that a big danger was getting closer to them, and that was something even life threatening. All of a sudden, they lost three of their friends. As I was disappointed by this planet, I remembered that strong and warm light rose from the east, the only thread of hope I have, the silver lining. There was no other way, so we just tried to find the place where I could see the sunrise. Only a moment, China, the origin of cultures of most Asian countries was under my foot. The farmers did not worry about their harvest, but the animals did move around to survive, and the plants do have their refreshing environment as the southern China provided them with their vital resource, water. Walking along the river, you could see the wide blue sky above and the charming skyline, at the same time, you could also take a nap on the soft, green lawn and see the rippling crystal clear water. As we were appreciating this specular view, having a contemplation, a group of whales-a kind of fishes looked like Seastone were swimming toward us and they produced some sounds as if they were laughing happily.

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Seastone seemed to be happy too. Therefore, I let it play with them. It had already jumped into the river before I noticed that. When they were enjoying the water sports, I discovered that the facial expression of Seastone was unusual. Its depression and inner fear were gone while its pure joy was shown on its face. I wanted to leave it there, but it disagreed. It forced me to promise that I would visit it once a week (ten years on the Earth). I had no choice but agreed. Seastone sometimes was annoying. A decade after a decade, I grew taller and taller, Seastone became older and older, and the Earth had tremendous changes as well. It became well developed and in other words, that is modern. Also, people were not as poor as before because a lot of farmlands were turned into commercial buildings while the perfect nature had vanished. What I could see were high rising building and weird looking things called “vehicles”. Oops! How about the turquoise and clear river where Seastone lived? As what I had predicted, Seastone wasn’t found there, but only a small amount of its friends were still there. They were on the brink of death. Looking at this filthy and dusty place, the words “Pearl River Delta” was written on a big dam. Obviously, the old charming, lovely place was gone. It was changed into a rich city, no longer being a native countryside. Anxiously, I searched for the trace of Seastone over the world. I still could not have any clue but only sickness. Since I had inhaled too much fume into my body and drunk in too much polluted water, my health was indeed deteriorating. If Seastone faced this situation, would it able to take care of itself It would not recover unless Seastone was lucky and cheated death. According to their history, the development of this place was started when the creatures there attained their intelligence. As the highest ranking creature, humans, could not have any self-control, the evil deeds they had done would definitely lead to another problem, sometimes, even a disaster or a big fighting with their own kind. They called that “a war”. I was pleased to see humans having their convenient life like us on our planet. However, humans did not know how to handle the following problems. They depended too much on the well- developed information technology. We could not wipe out the contribution of science and technology, and they were not the ones who made the Earth suffer. The poor environment was a result of wasting natural resources. When will they awake from the dream of making more money? When will they think about protecting the environment of the Earth? Technology is really good while culture and environment are important too. Human, wake up! Stop the unfair trade which sacrifices your natural treasures for the old evil, money!

Fight against the evil for the innocence Earth! Having peace in your hearts can help you think of some ways to protect the beauty of this wonderful planet.

Seastone, I am so sorry that I had taken you to this terrible planet! I hope you are living well at the other places on the Earth.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta International Christian Quality Music Secondary and Primary School (ICQM),

Kau, Min Xi - 13, Fiction: Group 3

he dragon danced away in the pale blue sky. A tiny river ran under it, cutting across the barren earth. The dragon was the only one left, and he played here every day until the cruel sun went down, just to keep the loneliness away.

Zhu tossed the pearl up high, and snaked up to catch it. Hot, dry wind ruffled his jade green beard, scattering dust into his tangerine yellow scales. The pearl tumbled back onto his tongue, slipping along its curvature. Zhu landed neatly, sending up puffs of red dust. Rolling the pearl between claws, he slithered back to his lair; his short legs carried him rather quickly. Zhu circled around his den, and ducked in, azure eyes flashed in total darkness. The pearl was neatly tucked into in between the thick coils of his body. The silence of the cave lulled Zhu to boredom, then to sleep. But he wasn’t safe that yet. The dragon is sleeping, but someone is wide awake out there. Leather sandals with feet in them drummed across the sun-baked earth. Lanterns swung in the half-light. The silhouettes printed faintly against the lair walls. “Zhè shì lóng de cháoxué?” a little silhouette spoke in a language that Zhu knew. Well… they think they are in my home. And they are. They want my pearl… but see if they can get it. Zhu thought, and realized that mortals from the nation had come. Zhu rose silently, the jade green fur along his spine rippling. He listened to what the humans were saying, translating the words naturally. “Are you sure that we won’t die?” the small silhouette gave a small hoot. “Silence.” the larger silhouette growled, “The dragon can be anywhere now.” Zhu gave a toothy grin, yes, of course he could be anywhere now. And he was exactly behind the mortals. He rolled the pearl smoothly under his palm, and allowed his azure eyes flash. The smaller mortal immediately turned around, saw nothing and kept searching. It was a game of dragon and prey. Zhu let the lanterns swing some more, and Zhu tossed up the humans like they were pearls as well. The small mortal screamed and waved his arms about frantically. “The pearl!” roared the chief of the JiuZhai tribe, and began hacking away at the keratin on the dragon’s head.

The vice chief gave one look at the huge glistening ball and scurried away. He couldn’t even lift it. A set of serrated claws stamped the ground in front of him. The chief finally wrestled a way out of the horns and dropped next to his companion. “Shuí dǎngǎn dài zǒu wǒ de lóngzhū?” Zhu roared, fangs bared and stained a glowing orange in the dawn light. “We know that you want to keep your pearl.” The chief mused, “But the tribes are dying and we desperately need a lush Zhujiang. Though that would only work with your pearl.” These humans are just plain stupid… Zhu lunged forward, “Never!” Claws of dragon met the sharp blade of the swords. The battle lasted till high noon, and the unforgiving sun beat down on the two mortals. Zhu clutched his pearl tightly, hoping the sun would eventually kill the mortals. The dragon wound round and round into the eggshell blue sky, a dust storm trailing after his red and gold tail.

“Where is the dragon?” Both men squinted through the flying bits of sand and other particles. “Here he is!” snarled Zhu, famous last words. The vice chief suddenly saw a long serpentine shape sail down, and held up a sword shakily. The

shadow of the plunging dragon darkening his expression. There was a grunt of pain as the blunt sword snagged Zhu’s claws.

The pearl tumbled away, down the narrow cliffs and into the little stream. No sooner than the pearl hit the water, the dragon turned to stone and crumbled into the river as well.

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It was a miraculous sight; the Jiang swelled its banks and fed the dry riverbanks that surrounded it. Soon, it supported the whole Guangzhou. Then Hong Kong and Macau.

The Zhujiang was named after the pearl which made many dreams in the cities flourish and shine. Or, was it the name of the dragon that had died so long ago that only a myth is left?

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta International College Hong Kong (ICHK), Blain, Joe - 13, Fiction: Group 3

he silt is a gentle, dull, grey and black colour, and it fills the whole landscape to the north. Dark blue pools of tranquil water dot the flat expanse. The sky, grey and bloated with fresh rains, is decorated with sporadic flocks of cranes searching for a spot to land. Deep green forest rises to a

slight plateau, far away to the east and west. *** You stood there for a short time, but there seemed to be no limit to how long you could stay in this place. The sky arched above your head, mottled with grey clouds, and gradually curved down to meet the horizon, where the thin smog blurred the silt and sky together. Following sight, the rest of your senses came alive. A brisk wind kicked up, sending a distinct smell into your nostrils. Low rumblings and crunchings of tires crept behind your ears. The cool silt piled and sank against your boots and filtered water into your socks. Traces of tin landed on your tongue and reminded you, who you were, where you needed to be. "John! There you are." Creak. Slam. Clunk. Clunk. The truck's driver pulled on the handbrake. "John! Over here, mate." You looked over at the man stepping down from the cab. "Morning, Tim." He scratched himself, looked out at the timeless, ancient landscape. "Crackin' bit of real estate, eh?" "Nice and flat. Shoddy foundation material, though." "We're gonna dredge a load of it up, use it for concrete." He jerked his thumb to the east, where skeletal steel frames were rising through the dust and reddish smoke nearby. "And about that 'foundation' thing - how's the whole... y'know..." "Bridge?" "Yeah... what kind of budget we looking at?" You scratched your chin, producing a faint rasping. You wondered momentarily whether you could borrow a razor, before a couple dozen calculations pushed it out of the way. "Couple million?" "RMB?" "U.S." Tim stared at you, slightly disappointed, but neither unsurprised nor untrusting. He knew, subserviently, that you would be right. "...No problem. I'll get back to the council. Need a lift?" "I've got someone coming." "Right. See you later, then." Clunk. Clunk. Creak. Chatter. Slam. The truck's engine thrummed into life and crunched its way up to twenty an hour through the silt, the red star emblazoned on its side slowly fading through the growing darkness. *** The mists had crept into the forest, soaring high above the sea and the delta before it hit the land, and then falling slowly like a sheaf of paper to the ground. Near the edge of the forest, the silence and iridescence had faded slightly. Stumps appeared, and orange light threw sporadic shadows across the canopy leaves. The trees grew thinner, greyer, and much, much taller, into towers of metal scaffolds. Crouching in

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their shadows was a collection of tents. In the center was one particularly large tent, so expansive that it more resembled a stark, white, angular copy of the blooming canopy just a couple hundred meters away in all directions. It was walled and heated, and inside thick faux flooring had been laid out, with bunk beds rising to the ceiling all around. An unopened pack of playing cards lay on a folding table near the center, along with some neatly placed stools. Men wearing damp shirts and clipon ties lay in their bunks, their faces an eery blue from the slim black devices in their hands. Those waiting for their devices to return from the well-forested power strip in the corner of the canopy would sit on the edges of their bunks and make quiet, awkward conversation. However, currently the only people inside were you, Tim (the shy, eager man you had met earlier that day), and Grange. Nobody knew his first name. While most of the engineers adorned their faces with the blue glow of their electronics, Grange instead had a stack of books next to his bunk that he flipped through incessantly. Presently, a muffled snoring came from where Tim had been lying in his bunk. Grange lifted his gaze and clapped his book shut. "Well, that's the last of them." He eased himself off of his bunk and shuffled over to the table, gesturing for you to sit. You both sat at the table. The silence was filled with the quiet crackling of plastic wrapping as Grange obliviously unwrapped the cards. "You play?" "No." He contemplated you. The fine network of wrinkles across his face expanded and shifted as he squinted ever so slightly. Then, they shifted again, some of them even disappearing. He relaxed, and it was as if his whole body opened like an ancient, creaking door. "Wanna learn?" "...No." A pause. "You know, I waited for that Tim guy to get out of the way 'cus you were different." You raised an eyebrow, your interest piqued by his pseudo-compliment. "'Cus I knew you saw this place as it was." It was true. The other men seemed to be capable only of peering through an eerie mist of mosquitoes and glowing screens. Out there was a silent, watching being. Sighing collages of greens and blues, staring amusedly as you wandered beneath them. "Let's go for a walk." You were in the cooling, breathing jungle, the soothing whispers cooing quietly to you through an amalgam of tiny chitterings and creaks. The gravel extended long and straight like a road to the edge of your sight, the bright moon making its rolling surface turn into an ocean, a deep, bluish grey ocean. "Remember this place," murmured Grange. "Keep it safe in your mind, before it changes too much.” "I will," you said quietly, measuredly. *** "Remember that big clearing near the hill?" "Which hill?"

Fiction: Group 3

"The little one." "Sure, the one with the boulders up on top." "Well, the high-ups are telling us to dig out cesspits there. Save on having to clear out a space ourselves." "Sounds fine to me." "Team 17 is heading out there with a couple drills and a digger tomorrow." "I'll go with them." "Good lad." *** He had nicked his thumb on the machete earlier, but none of it mattered now. Work was over! The rice was at last lying in massive heaps in the center of the village waiting to be threshed by the grandmas, while the tattered ball of stitched leather was sailing high over the adults' heads. "Come on! Sun's setting in a couple hours!" "Lemme get my boots!" "You have boots? Lucky!" And down the trail he sped, kicking the ball over ruts, jumping stumps, enjoying the journey as much as the dream of their destination. Rounding the corner though, his best friend leaped out from behind and stole the ball, speeding up and charging full tilt down the final straight - the field was in sight! He watched his friend in admiration as he bounced the ball fluidly past obstacle after obstacle. He knew his friend was probably the best player in the village, maybe even the province! He yelled in triumph as he broke out into the clearing - The worst part isn't the screams. It's when the screams die out. He stopped short. In that silent moment, every minute detail, every tiny distraction from what had just happened leapt out at him, like a blizzard of blood-red lights. Jumping into his vision incessantly, desperately. Then the screams burst out with renewed frenzy, different screams, the screams of the witnesses. The cacophony shot out over the canopy in streaks of hot red, swirling like tears across the darkening sky. The waves of sound bled into every nook, every cranny, filling up the newly dug pit like a flash flood. And there, at the bottom, blood, fear, and sound mixed in the air near the ground like smoke, into a heady concoction of horror and guilt. ***

When you silence My soul

Lay me in my home In canopy, In stone

Once again alone.

See my blessings Ring true

Feel the wind I blew.

You fool -

I forgive you.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta

International College Hong Kong (ICHK), Ho, Clarissa - 11, Fiction: Group 3

here was a 10-year-old girl called Camilla who lived in Hong Kong. Camilla had dark brown eyes and short black hair.

Her dad was a construction worker, and her mum worked as a waitress. They couldn’t afford to buy or rent a flat in the city, because it was expensive in Hong Kong. So the family lived in a shabby little hut near the Hong Kong-Shenzhen border in the Pearl River Delta. Their hut had a few holes on the rooftop. When it rained Camilla had to put a bucket next to her bed and hear the drops of rain: dip dop, dip dop. Though her family lacked material things, Camilla was a playful person and enjoyed playing spies. She liked how they tracked down criminals with cool gadgets. Sometimes she thought of being a spy one day. One morning after finishing her homework, Camilla was bored. She knocked on her friends’ doors to ask them to play spies, but they weren’t there. So she wandered around. While she was walking on a path, she felt something under her shoe. It felt hard and small. She lifted up her shoe, and picked up the object. She could hardly believe her eyes. “It’s a gold coin!” While she examined it, she took another step and felt another piece of hard thing. It was the same exact coin! She realized that there was a whole TRAIL of them! She followed the trail and picked up the coins as she went along. Suddenly a sound alerted her to hide in a bush. Down the slope, she saw a man wearing a surgical mask. He looked suspicious. He was dragging a few brown sacks. One of them had a hole in it. Gold coins were falling out! “Maybe he is a burglar,” Camilla thought. “I must find out what he is doing.” With that thought, Camilla reached for her old Nokia phone and set it on video record. She followed the man to places in the village she had never been to before. She climbed on rocks and walked on slopes while trailing after him. He stopped by a river, with a sign that read Sham Chun River. On the other side of the river was China. Camilla’s parents said crossing the border was dangerous because people would kidnap children and sell them. However, she was filled with excitement and fear did not enter her mind. The man dragged his sacks of gold into a boat, and rowed it across the river. “Mum and Dad would get so mad if I crossed the border,” Camilla thought. At the same time she felt excited that she could have a chance to explore and spy on somebody. But there was no time for her to think because the boat was leaving. “I must go,” Camilla said to herself. Camilla stopped the video and waded into the murky water. The water went up to her waist. Her trousers were soaking wet. There were mud and leaves in her shoes. But the boat was moving away, and Camilla couldn’t catch up. She yelled, “Who are you? What are you doing?” The man looked back. He ran up to her and clamped a cloth over her mouth. Before Camilla knew what was happening, she fainted.

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By the time Camilla woke up, it was the next morning. She found her hands bound with a rope in front of her, and her back tied to a tree. She was in a different place. In the distance, she saw a fading sign: Huang Bei Ling village. There were ruined houses that had collapsed, with bricks scattered around, and huge fields covered with weeds. It seemed like a deserted village because no one was around. Camilla tried slipping off the rope but it was too tight. She screamed, “HELP!” The man appeared. He had his surgical mask off. Above his left eye was a scar. He looked creepy. “You think you can outwit me?” he laughed. “Where am I?” Camilla asked, too furious to be scared. “You are in Shenzhen,” he said. “Let me go! This instant NOW!” she yelled, straining at the ropes. In the process, she accidentally set her phone to recording. “So what? I just robbed gold worth $40 million from a bank in Hong Kong, and I won’t let some insolent child like you get away.” Then he walked away. “NO! Let me go!” Camilla shouted. But no one was there to help her. “Am I going to die?” she thought. Her eyes turned watery. Suddenly she spotted a wooden stick hidden under some weeds. She used her leg to kick it to herself. Then she tried to reach for it with her hands. “I can get this…yes!” she said as she got hold of the stick which had small thorns on it. She kept scraping the stick on the rope until it came apart. She untied the rope. “I did it! My hands are free!” she said. Camilla ran around the abandoned houses trying to search for a way to run away. She discovered a river on the other side of the village. Just when she was figuring out how to escape, she spotted a stranded sampan next to a willow tree. She sprinted towards it, pushed it into the river and jumped in it. The man went to check on Camilla. She had escaped! He rushed around and then saw her sampan moving away. He roared with rage. He jumped into the water and swam after the boat. Camilla paddled with all her might. The man was getting closer until he almost reached the boat, but it parted away from him. “NOOOO!!! Get back here!” he yelled. Camilla kept rowing the sampan until the man was just a tiny speck in the distance. Hours later, she stopped the boat when she saw houses along the side of the river because she thought that she might find help there. She left her boat, and jumped onto the grass. “Phew!” Camilla said tiredly. She saw old farmers with straw hats on paddy fields. They looked like Chinese people in the olden days, still wearing the traditional mandarin jackets and carrying baskets on their backs. Camilla followed some loud noises into an old town. Women were selling fruits and herbs. Some old people dressed in the green military uniforms similar to the Chinese communist leader, Mao Zedong, whom she saw in a history book. It looked different from Hong Kong. Camilla walked to a small stall where a man was selling newspapers. The headline read, “RUNAWAY SUSPECT OF HONG KONG’S BIGGEST GOLD ROBBERY”. Then there was a picture of a man wearing a mask. “I knew it!” she said.

Fiction: Group 3

Under that was another headline: “GIRL MISSING IN HONG KONG”. Camilla knew that it was her. She looked up at the newspaper seller and asked, “Sir, do you know where the police station is?” “It’s by the market over there.” “Thank you,” she said as she headed off. She arrived in front of the building with a sign “Gong An Ju” (police station). A policewoman came out and said, “ni hao (hello), are you reporting something?” “Yes,” Camilla said. “Follow me,” said the policewoman. They went to a room. “What you are reporting about?” “My name is Camilla. I was the girl from Hong Kong who was missing. I was caught by the man who robbed the bank.” She then played the video to the policewoman. “I know where he is,” Camilla said. “Take us there immediately before this criminal escapes!” she said. “Bring your boats too,” Camilla added. Camilla led the police officers to the river. When she saw the sign, Huang Bei Ling, she stopped the boat and climbed onto the grass. The police followed her. They found the man standing under an oak tree, packing away the sacks of gold coins. A few officers rushed out and shouted, “You’re under arrest!” They had him handcuffed, and took him back to the police station. The next day, Camilla was waiting in a Hong Kong police station. A chief superintendent walked over to her holding a newspaper with a headline: “BANK ROBBER ARRESTED IN SHENZHEN”. “Congratulations! I can’t believe that a child can go through Shenzhen and help capture a thief!” he said to Camilla. Camilla beamed. “We have contacted your parents already, so you will be going back home soon. Thank you for helping us to find the thief. We have decided to reward you with HK$50,000!” “Are you joking?” she said with her eyes wide open. “You were brave and you deserve it,” he said. Camilla couldn’t believe that she could survive in Shenzhen alone and escape from the robber. She felt proud that she did something great for her family by winning 50,000 dollars! The police handed her a paycheck and a crime prevention award certificate. “Yippee!!!” Camilla shouted. This was the best day of her life.

Fiction: Group 3

The Man, The Genie and the Prince of the Sea International College Hong Kong (ICHK), Nelson, Gabriel - 11, Fiction: Group 3

Chapter 1 : The Poor Fisherman

nce there was a very poor man who lived inside a hut near the Pearl River Delta. He was so poor that his hut was smaller than any house you have ever seen before. It was the size of a cubicle in an office. There was only a table, a chair, a broken mattress and a fishing net with tools lying in

the corner. He worked as a fisherman, every day he walked back and forth from his hut to the Pearl River Delta to fish. At noon, instead of eating lunch, he would go to the Market and sold his fish to the Hawkers or Shopkeepers, at late afternoon he would go to the market to sell his fish again. He did not eat much at all, and merely ate little amount of food until dusk before he went to sleep. With the little amount of food ate, he starved throughout the days and nights. Sometimes he would not have any meal at all since his catches were all sold to earn money to support his living. Going through such a hard life, every day at dawn, he would go beside the Pearl River Delta and pray to Buddha to help him. Chapter 2 : Telepathy Message Buddha looked down from Heaven and felt pity for this poor fisherman. He used telepathy to message to the King of The Sea to help this Fisherman but stop him fishing because it was against the Buddhist Religion. Fishing kills while all lives are equal in Buddha’s eyes. After the King of The Sea read the message, he already knew he was too old to do this job, so he dedicated such important mission to his son, the Prince of The Sea. The Prince of The Sea was quickly alerted and went straight away to his father’s room. The King of The Sea told him the story of the poor fisherman, the Prince of The Sea felt the need to help him. So one morning when the Fisherman was at the Pearl River Delta, the Prince of The Sea went to the surface to speak with him, but first was disguised as a beautiful shiny yellow fish. The Fisherman fished and fished till mid morning, when he saw the bright yellow fish. He leaned in to catch it and thought about all the money he could sell it for but then thought about the pretty fish. He decided he would keep the fish, not to eat it but to treasure it. Up in the sky Buddha smiled for he thought the Fisherman was learning to respect and treasure life of other creatures. Meanwhile at the bottom of the Pearl River Delta, a demon overlooked at this scenario and thought viciously about all the tricks he could play on the (foolish) fisherman. Chapter 3: The Bright Yellow Fish That night the Fisherman spent his food money on buying a bowl filled with water for the Bright Yellow Fish, it did not appeal to him that he did not have any food since he was used to it.

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When he went to sleep he didn’t want to leave the fish alone in the dark so he slept next to it on a broken mattress. Chapter 4 : The Water Demon The next day the Fisherman left the fish secured in the house while he went to get some food for the fish. At the same time the water demon pretended to be a beggar and waited outside his house to ask him for food. The Fisherman went back into the house immediately to search if he had even the littlest of food he could offer to the beggar. The Water Demon disguised so cunningly that he even looked as if he had been attacked with cuts on his forehead and arms. When the Fisherman turned his back, the Water Demon planned to strike him but the Prince of The Sea would not allow this, so he put a spell on the Demon to be frozen. When the Fisherman came back with a few crumbs of bread he had to spare, he was surprised to find the Frozen Beggar lying on the floor, so he picked him up and put him on the broken mattress. The Fisherman went off to the Market in search of some Hot Soup for the poor Beggar. Chapter 5 : Unwholesome and Wholesome Deeds Once the Fisherman left the hut, The Prince of The Sea unfroze the demon and said to him, “ If you do unwholesome or bad deeds in your future lives, you may become a worse soul than just a demon and may be reborn as a worse soul in Hell. If you have bad thoughts it will lead to a bad mind, so don’t be bad. If you do wholesome deeds you will be reborn as a Human, God or even an Enlightened Being.” The Demon thought about this for a minute . . . . . . And started to cry. “ I’ll tell you my story.” He said. Chapter 6 : The Demon’s Story In my previous life I was a emperor of China, you may know me as Qin Shi Huang Di, the very harsh and evil emperor of Qin Dynasty which killed lots of innocent lives, by capturing other kings and empires and executing everyone I hated. Because of that, I had lots of harsh treatments in hell after death as driven by my karma, such as being chased by iron dogs and snakes and other tortures. After all that I was reborn as a demon and put into this river about a hundred years ago. I saw these poor village people, lured them here and killed and ate them. I also lured small animals with an irresistible smell of cooked pork chop and other delicious food. Then one day I saw a monk and said to him “Joyful Master of Wisdom would you kindly like to feast with me over there by the river.” The monk must have been suspicious because of my tone, so he kindly said “No Thanks, Kind Sir.” and walked away. I tried to convince him but it just made him feel more and more agitated with me and walked away quicker. I felt very angry and tried to hit him but he disappeared in a instance and was above me. After I looked up I found out this was a Buddha called Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva who vowed to put him at the bottom of a list, where he wanted everyone to reach Enlightenment in the heavens before he did, which was a enormous vow.

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He said “Do not harm anyone else or you will be overcome by a great force to turn you to good.” I stopped harming people for a while, then I saw this fisherman pray to Buddha and thought how helpless he was, instantly I just wanted to harm him. But you stopped me. I feel really sorry for my act and bad thoughts, and find myself rather hopeless. I would like to be good again to reach Enlightenment but I don’t know how. Chapter 7: A Second Chance The Prince felt really sorry for this demon so he asked Buddha to give this man a second chance, and Buddha did. Buddha turned him into a genie so he could help the Fisherman and other people in the village with their money and food problems. Epilogue: Improvement After the Prince left, he converted the poor village into houses for people to live in and every night in the main hall the (Royal) Genie ( his new title ) gave everybody enough food to eat, but it was Vegetarian food because he converted everyone into Buddhists. Genie also taught the villagers how to farm and grow enough grains and vegetables to support their lives. Everyone lived happily for many years and the Genie stayed there for many years to help people to this day.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta International College Hong Kong (ICHK), Yue, Prisca - 11, Fiction: Group 3

long time ago, a two-year-old boy was abandoned by his parents in the forest. He was placed in a paper box, and no one ever attempted to rescue or save him because of his hidden location. He lived in the forest with a bear that fed him milk and protected him from danger. In his 10th year,

the boy had to hunt for his own food, make his own bed, and become accustomed to living alone after the bear left him. While relaxing on the top of a tree, he saw a wild pig wandering around the area and decided to chase the animal. Although the chase lasted for half an hour, the wild pig managed to escape. Tired from the chase, the boy decided to go back to his shelter before sundown. However, he went far away from his shelter during the chase and could no longer find his way back. Lost in the deep, dark woods, the boy had to make an emergency shelter. He constructed a bed from the bark of a tree, and although he rested uncomfortably, the boy thought that surviving is much more important than relaxing. The boy was very lucky as he managed to survive the night. As he climbed a tree in search for food, the boy found a beehive from which honey dripped to the ground. The scent of honey attracted a bear to the bottom of the tree. The boy stared at the bear for a short time and suddenly recognized the animal as a cub that he used to play with when he was young. They shared the “same mother” and went through sweet, funny moments together. The boy also remembered how they used to fight while the mother bear was feeding them with milk. The boy recognized the bear after seeing the patch of white fur on her back. The boy did not attack the bear and patted her back gently instead. The bear lowered her body and the boy climbed on her back. The bear brought the boy to the Pearl River, which the animal thought was a suitable home for the child. The boy excitedly dismounted from the bear and played in the water until sunset as the bear waited for him. During their stay, the boy learned that his adoptive bear mother had died and that his friend bear was now the mother of two cubs. The bear then left the boy to return to her family, and the boy sat by the water and cried. However, the bear returned to the river after three hours together with her cubs and a big piece of meat. The boy was so happy to be reunited with the bear. The bear began to feed her cubs and gave the boy some food. It was the first time that the boy felt his stomach full. The bear then slept with her body wrapped around her cubs and the boy, just like a happy family. The boy woke up the next day and found that the bear family had left him. He became very upset, but then found another big piece of meat next to him. The boy decided to save the food as he knew that his friend would not come back in a while. It was because her cubs did not like staying near the sand as the crabs pinched them. After eating his “breakfast,” the boy decided to play in the river to cool him. The boy dove into the river and relaxed in the water. Suddenly, he found a big seashell near the corals. He then brought it back to the shore, and opened the shell to find a big, shiny pearl. Thinking that more pearls could be found in the river, he left the big pearl on the shore and dove into the water again. He found more pearls that were not as big as the first one. On his way back to the shore to count his pearls, the boy heard a loud noise and saw a drowning white Chinese dolphin that was trying to swim up to catch its breath. The boy found out that the tail of the dolphin was caught in a broken fishnet with some hanging garbage because the Pearl River was polluted. The boy unhooked the tail from the fishnet and set the dolphin free. To show its gratitude, the dolphin turned back to the boy and gave him a “joy ride” on its back. Afterwards, the dolphin gestured goodbye to the boy and swam away. Unwillingly to say goodbye to the dolphin, the boy hoped that he could see it again. The boy went back to the shore and prepared to sleep as the sun went down. His day had been a very adventurous one. As he slept peacefully on his makeshift bed, the boy woke up to a loud howl. He went into the forest and found that his friend bear was stuck in a puddle of mud. The boy carried his friend back to the river and saw a girl trying to take away the largest pearl that he had found in the coral reef. As he tried to save his pearl, the girl realized that something was wrong with the boy because he did not know

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how to speak and was very skinny. She tried to bring him to her father, but the boy did not want to leave the bear and its cubs behind. Therefore, the girl brought the bear family along with them. The father, who was working as a doctor, asked the boy for his name and age, but he could not answer as he was mute. The father provided the boy with nutritious food and medicine as well as taught him how to speak and read. The boy also did not know how to put on his clothes because he never wore clothes before. He would wear his pants on his head, wear his clothes on his legs, and then wander off to the park. He even tripped over a rock as his pants blocked his eyes. Luckily, he only scraped his arm and knees. The father named the boy “Leo” and taught him how to read his name and that of his daughter, who was named “Sarah.” The father taught Leo different things every day and let him go to the nearby park to socialize with the other children. As time went by, the children became close to Leo, who they thought was very cute and sweet. The elders also liked Leo for his polite and respectful attitude. Sarah would also help Leo with his talking or reading whenever he could not make any progress in his learning. Aside from learning how to speak and read, Leo also had difficulty in adapting himself to modern life. Luckily, Sarah helped him grow accustomed to his daily life. Similarly, adapting to a new life was not very easy for the bears. The father fed them with meat or salmon three to four times a day and built a small hut for the bear family. After 10 years, Leo made great progress in his speaking and reading skills and was able to speak proper English and Chinese. One day on the beach, Leo went down on his knees and asked Sarah if she wanted to marry him. He also prepared a beautiful necklace made from the pearls that he had collected over the years as a token of love to Sarah. A few days later, Sarah married Leo, and the cubs were invited as the page boy and flower girl of the couple. The wedding was a sweet moment for the family. Leo and Sarah went to the beach every day to collect pearls for making accessories. They would then sell these accessories to make money. They also helped clean the river for the water to become clear, so that the river become a wonderful place for diving again. They also frequently visited the dolphin that had become a mother of two. Since then, Sarah, Leo, and the bear family lived happily in the estuary of the Pearl River Delta.

Fiction: Group 3

Pearl of the River ISF Academy Secondary Division, Fong, Lok Ping - 12, Fiction: Group 3

he sun beat on young Xiang's back as he worked laboriously near the Pearl River, he nonchalantly

wiped the sweat off his furrowed brow as he rested his sore arms on the decrepit sides of his boat. Xiang was breathless, tired and fatigued, but he was satisfied with todays catch. He caught a dozen

bighead carps and tilapias, a sufficient amount to feed his family. He dug through the contents of his net, grin getting bigger and bigger as he rummaged through all the fish he managed to catch. He expected a lot

of brown and maybe grey carps, but his eyes landed upon a completely green, turquoise-ish carp that was flapping its fins and tail, creating quite a ruckus on his boat. Water and seaweed sprayed all over his face as

the carp went berserk. Xiang shut his eyes and blindly reach for his knife and slit the carp right across its stomach. Xiang slowly opened his eyes and expected a gruesome sight of guts and blood smeared all over

the hull of his boat, but he saw something unbelievable. Pearls in the mouths of living shelled mollusks. For a moment, Xiang thought he struck the jackpot after finding all these pearls. He looked away, and glanced at

them again. He was flabbergasted, this had to be a trick of some kind. Xiang’s mind was clouded with thoughts, he wondered, what should he do with all of this? Xiang smiled, grin growing wider wider as he

thought of bringing them all back home, so he could be rich! . Xiang grabbed a handful of mollusks and the net of fish with him. The net cut him like a thousand devils, but he felt none of it because of how jubilant

he was. He could just imagine himself spending all of the pearls, buying extravagant amount clothing and attires.

Xiang looked at the sunset, the golden rays of the sun fading behind the mountains. Xiang knew from

experience walking in the dark could lead the regretful consequences. He quickened his pace, dragging the net and pearls with him. Xiang did not have any sort of map or guidance to help him get home, so he

scored the tree’s with serrated rocked, marking a road for him. This proved to be quite effective and Xiang always relied on them since then. Even with all these markings lighting the way for Xiang, the hike up is still strenuous and tiring. Once he got home, he found his wife waiting patiently outside his huts door, face

unmistakably filled with anxiety and worry. Xiang looked up, just realizing how late it was and bit his lip in frustration. He trudged into his living room, head beaded with perspiration from the hike up home. Xiang

ate quickly and ran up to his room to inspect the pearls, he noticed that the pearls were strange in color, slightly green, and there seemed the something inside it. Xiang narrowed his eyes and held the pearl up in

the light. Then, he saw it, that… ...thing. The thing in the pearl wiggled, and moved. Xiang Yelled in surprise and almost fell off his chair, that is not possible, there is no way that there is something living inside

the pearl. Xiang knew he did something wrong, he had to take them back to the river, and hopefully not disturb that… …thing. But, Xiang wanted to be rich and now he faced a terrible dilemma. He crawled to

his bed, mind conflicted whether he should put them back or sell them

The next day was a beautiful day. The sun is up, the birds are chirping and a soft breeze ruffled the deep red leaves of the mahogany tree’s. Xiang smiled with glee and walked along the market stalls, finding food

for tonight. His enthusiasm ended abruptly when he passed a prophet, and overheard something that sent shivers down his spine. “Pearls I say, there are some pearls… … with something alive… ...nightmare, a

terror… ... will bring doom to our village… ...Guangzhou is in danger” Xiang gulped and glanced at his pearls, he eyes widened in shock as he realized they seem to have grown larger overnight. Xiang knew he

could not wait any longer, he had to get rid of these dreadful pearls, so ran to the pearl river delta, sandals slapping the gravel, sending little pieces everywhere. He clutched the pearls against his chest as he ran faster.

The shore came to sight and Xiang anxiety lowered a little, but it sky rocketed up when he a ripple emerging from the depths of the river. A huge fin, dotted with green broke the water's surface, with a

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bubbling wake trailing behind it. A deformed head of a carp slowly rose out out of the water, sharp teeth gnashing, powerful fins pushing the carp against the current. The carp let out an earth-shaking roar,

knocking down Xiang. Xiang’s eyes were wide with terror and scrambled to his feet, and ran for his life. Xiang was haywire and headed to the village, leaping and running with surprising speed and agility (I guess

that happens when you’re running for your life) He appeared screaming his head off into the village square where everybody stopped moving and stared at Xiang. Xiang’s couldn't just stand there and let

embarrassment take over him, he had to apprise the people of GuangZhou that there is some kind of beast lurking in the waters of the Pearl River Delta. Xiang said “ Villagers! There is some sort of fish lurking in

the riv… …” Before Xiang could finish, the carp leaped over the tree line and landed right in the middle of the village. Huge amounts of water splashed and sloshed around, soaking everything. The carp roared and

smashed it’s fin onto a small hut, completely obliterating it. A small gasp emitted from the elderly woman on my right, she whispered “Nooo!!! My whole fortune is in that hut! Nooooo!” Xiang bit his lip in anger,

how could this carp destroy their village, it had no right. Xiang had to end this destruction, he needed a weapon to defend himself, so he leaped over an overturned table and snatched a harpoon lying on a

wrecked house.

Xiang gripped the harpoon tightly, face grim with determination. Many years of fishing made handling a harpoon easy, he held the hilt of the harpoon, finger twitching with anticipation as he rested it on the

trigger. He walked to an empty area where he could have a clear shot at the carp, Xiang aimed at the carps stomach, and pulled the trigger. In Xiang’s perspective, everything slowed down, he saw the spear barrage

out of the harpoon, twirling in the air as it headed right where he wanted it to. The spear slammed itself right into the carp, and remained there until the carp fell over, snapping it in half. Xiang felt a rush of

adrenaline and pumped his hands up in elation. The whole village was in tumult as they whispered about Xiang, the savior of the Pearl River Delta. Although Xiang knew he had saved the people of Guangzhou,

he had one more deed to do, he had to put the pearls back into the Pearl River Delta. He ambled towards the river and threw the pearls as far as he could into the depths of the water. Xiang looked at the sunset, and

reflected. He was foolish because he was greedy and attempted to take all the pearls at once. This act had put the lives of other people in risk, Xiang scolded himself, frustrated at what he did, Xiang vowed to never be

so foolish and headed home.

Fiction: Group 3

The Wake Up Call ISF Academy Secondary Division, Foskey, Brooke - 14, Fiction: Group 3

or countless nights, you haven’t slept over three hours. You spend your nights propped up against the pillows of your bed, hollow eyes staring endlessly at the world outside your window. You see the imperfections everywhere; from the pollution that enshrouds the city to the

murky, dirty water of the Pearl River. Your home is part of this polluted and strange environment you see every day, yet you feel you are not. You don’t belong here, or anywhere in the world for that matter, and never will. For hours you sit there, pondering the purpose of your existence. Just another person among the 7 billion people in the world, you think to yourself bitterly. Another taken space, another resource-consuming organism. Another failure at the game we call life who wastes her time being miserable. When your eyelids finally settle, you find that there is no escape from reality or comfort in your sleep. Instead, your dreams are tainted by images of your old home. They mock your un-belonging in Guangzhou and silently taunt you for the hopes and aspirations you have that will never come true. You’ll never return. You’ll never belong anywhere. Then you find yourself back in your old room, with the familiar objects that you know and miss too well. You look around you, at the bed, the bookshelf… this is too good to be true. I can’t believe it. I’m actually back! But when you turn towards the window to catch a glimpse of the view you’ve missed for so long… the dream shifts. You see an old classmate of yours who has long since moved elsewhere. Have you seen Audrey? She asks you, desperate to find her best friend despite being separated into different schools. No, you answer. Even in your subconscious state, you somehow manage to reflect bitterly, no one would be searching for me like that. More images flash before you, images from your past, taunting you for your social awkwardness and inability to find anyone, anyone at all that you can relate to. Blurred images of a double-decker bus and a middle-school classroom reminding you of your inability to abide by social customs because you were too shy, the many times you could have made up for it but you didn’t, and now…now it’s too late. The friendships you failed at, the doors you closed on the people you thought were your friends, but weren’t… Who do you have left? You ask yourself after two hours of torture-filled sleep. No one but yourself. No one, but yourself. For a while, you sit there, regretting everything until the guilt and misery almost kills you. You get up to open the window. “Is there anyone out there who understands?” You scream into the open air. Your voice is muffled by the smog that settles heavily over your home, and met with no reply, not even the scattering of birds. A reminder of how alone you are in this world. I guess I was destined to be isolated from everyone-and everything- around me. A conversation with your mother from years ago replays in the back of your mind. Mom, why does life have to be so unfair? You ask her, attempting to blink away the tears building up in your eyes. Stop wasting your time pitying yourself, she replies coldly. There are people with far worse lives than you. Is it fair that some people don’t have parents? Is it fair that some people are born extremely poor? When you have that kind of life, that’s when you know what is unfair. I know, I know, you dry your tears. But why don’t I have any friends? Her expression softens a little. Because you don’t have enough “Yuan” with the people around you. It might just be your destiny, but give it time anyway. You’re still young! Someday, you’ll find someone… Ha. See where “Yuan” got me in life. The window remains open in front of you. You extend a hand to close it, but you are suddenly conscious of a faint night breeze. It flows around you and whispers temptations into your ears.

The way out is in front of you. Just go through the window, and you’ll finally be free.

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You withdraw your hand and peer cautiously out the window. The Pearl River swirls relentlessly meters below you. If I escape now, that will be the last place I will experience consciousness in. The time is right. Go now… while you still can. You hesitate. What do you have left, anyway? No friends, no family.... you’ll die old, with no one to care for you. Why not end all this now and stop the suffering? The nightmares, the guilt, the misery… it’ll all be over. Besides, who will care about your death anyway? The offer seems so tempting, that, in the moment, you become convinced by your own hollow, deceiving words. In a trance, you climb out the window until you are left teetering on the edge of the windowsill. Above you, the smog parts just enough to reveal the full moon, emitting a soft, pearl-like, glow. You shiver in the cool night air. On the count of three. Three… your knees begin to tremble involuntarily at the sight of the murky water below you. Two… You begin to have second thoughts. What am I even doing? One...go. Your feet remain rooted to the windowsill. Go! Just go. No, you argue, tears streaming down your cheeks faster than the relentless flowing of the Pearl River. Death may be the easy way out, but it is selfish. Selfish? You’ve been selfish your whole life! The realization slaps you in the face and at once the tears stop. Well, maybe that needs to change. You lower yourself and climb back in through the window, your heart still pounding from the close encounter. As you slam the window shut, you realize that, when you were given the chance, you didn’t kill yourself. Why didn’t I take it? You wonder as you crawl back under the covers of your bed. Maybe my life wasn’t destined to be over… just yet. There must be a way to fix the mistakes I made and put what’s left of my life back together. Maybe “Yuan” will help me find a friend…eventually. With those last thoughts you drift into sleep. And for the first time in a long while, your sleep is untainted by dreams- or nightmares.

Fiction: Group 3

Treading Water ISF Academy Secondary Division, Lee, Lily - 14, Fiction: Group 3

ou wake up to a world of desolate white apartment ceilings and pollution-gray rain, short tufts of black hair and pastel earphones lying on the wooden panels beneath you. The Pearl River Delta cries downward through the metropolis outside, and cargo boats bellow in the distance, noise

muted by the sheet of fog cloaking the city. An alarm clock hammers obligations into your skull, but you kill it with a few quashes of your

index finger. You, honestly, could not be bothered. The phone calls, the text messages, the notifications – they could wait until the next morning, or next eternity for all you care. Right now, you decide, was a concept many people didn’t seem to grasp. Instead of a speed-of-light time frame it was a timeless unbroken period wherein eyes are cast to the ceiling, ensnared in a web of captivating daydreams and merciless, knifelike thoughts. A kaleidoscope bleeding reality into what-ifs and if-onlys.

A brush against the back of your hand, so soft that it could have been a dream. If you let slip of the memory, it will fade into nothing, and the secret will only die with her, too well-kept to have ever been real. But it’s all a part of this fantastical web of stories, strings pulled and threats exchanged, each smile and touch and frozen stare calculated to the point of being beyond caution. You seem to enjoy your rhetorical questions and misleading and lies-by-omission and downright lying just a little too much. At least, that’s what she tells you, in an accusatory tone. But both of you know that she’s willing play your game. Willing to shatter her dreams and weave them into your reality.

… In some ways you’re just like a river, going with the flow and helpless to change. Everyone ends up in the same place and (you’re smart, you know this) that’s why you don’t attempt to change your fate; the currents can be fast or slow but they’ll always lead to the sea, no matter what kind or how many backward paths you take out of life. You still have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, and convincing her of the same gives you some illusion of control – power over her beliefs, her mind. Because no one ever said that relationships were healthy.

Occasionally the guilt hits you and you realize that you’ve destroyed both of your lives, and then you apologize for everything and nothing and anything you can possible fault yourself for and push her away and shut down completely, for a few days or a week, and she waits because she hasn’t lost her mind, because she needs her grades and her pride/honor more than she needs you. For a while you and she are stone-cold strangers in a colorless hell of trapped spirits and broken minds and homework piling high, high, high on a pedestal of spoon-fed dreams. The resume you will write. The universities you will attend. The recipe for perfection that everyone around you strives to reproduce. It has become another standardized expectation, a prerequisite for Living, Making a Living, Getting a Life, etc. Marrying. Having Children. Things you are too young and broken to think of.

In the end, your Perfect-Pedestal will crumble to dust, and you will pay for it with your soul. Then, all of that struggle, all of that work and sacrifice and agony would be for… what?

You ask her this, desperately, with tears streaking down your cheeks (but boys don’t cry), begging her for an answer that does not exist. Calmly (though only because she needs to be sane for you), she asks if it matters at all. Am I not enough?

In the end, it’s a challenge, a question of how-perfect-must-you-be. Abide by the recipe or deviate for uniqueness? Which one will get you the Better School, the More Perfect Life that you would spend working constantly, anyway? Why graduate at all when you have Steve Jobs and school shootings and millions of Perfect-Pedestals toppled at the slightest tremor of the ground you stand on?

Well, she says. How else would you live? Not like this, you tell her. Not like this. And then you entertain her with your dreams of a Perfect

Future, your if-onlys, but-that-will-never-happens. For the heartbeat of one or two stolen moments, the two of you live in your fabricated fantasy. Then it’s back to your life flashing before your eyes, so full of debris and ugliness and flaws and running its course fastfastfast. Rushing headlong but going nowhere. Just like the river that cries outside.

Once upon a time, you were a blank canvas. Then society injected poison/garbage/propaganda/beliefs into your bloodstream, poured slag into your system, polluted the river water. They taught you how to live with their stupid, stupid education system – because how else would

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you live? – and turned you into a mindless creature trained to ferry the wellspring of China’s economy, prime and proper and purposeless.

Your futures, paraded for all eyes to see. Little figurines of graduated alumni on a conveyer belt for production. For selection. All prepped and ready for the market, for moneymaking, just like that.

In less than four years, you will become one of them, brimming with hopelessness, flooded by tears and toxins and debt and made impure by the system they call education. You will be shipped out with a mind more polluted than the river that cries outside, fated to eke out a living somewhere around there. And you’ll never see her again, because she’s destined for Greater Things, probably some job that requires her to travel all over the world and meet all sorts of people. She would find someone else, and then where would you be?

What do you have left?

Fiction: Group 3

That, of Revenge ISF Academy Secondary Division, Leung, Holly - 14, Fiction: Group 3

ou are unworthy to be my son.” He peered down into the eyes of the child as the dark of the night trampled down onto the dark alley behind the bar. “And you are unworthy to be my father.” The child matched his father’s gaze of

fury with his eyes of ice. The darkness of the moonlight shone into the Pearl River Delta, just a few metres away from the alley. The shimmering waters of the Delta formed millions of eyes in the darkness, judging silently. “Me, unworthy?! You disgrace me with your so called “disability”. You know why your mother had to die? Because she sympathized with you.” “No. That’s untrue,” the calm resolve in the child’s eye glistened, “she had to die because you were angry with her. You’re always angry at people, but never at money.” The fists rained down without mercy as the Pearl River Delta surged against the pull of the moon. The night grew darker as violence became the ultimate solution. “You’re going to die here, just like your mother. How does it feel to have your life torn from you, like how you tore it away from me?”

The child closed his eyes. “I never tore you away. You tore yourself away.” The child’s slippers faded away into the darkness of the night as the father took out a bottle of red wine, the red turning black under the shadows looming over the alley. “You scum!” The man’s face grew red as he smashed the bottle into the ground. The night dragged on as the man went back into the bar, his badges clanking on his suit as he was greeted by two young women in leotards. One echo of the laugh, and silence occupied the alley again. Dawn wasn’t coming anytime soon. The child raised his baton with his crippled left arm. Begin. Lento. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Two million from Zhang Jian’s account.” The husky voice on the other end of the speaker murmured. Chen Wei turned his gaze upon the ceiling. Not a bad deal, and with Zhang Jian’s party reputation, there would be no chance of interference. The task was way too simple. Only someone with the mind of a pig would refuse this offer. “Confirmation: event will start on the third of March, the Guang Dong military are to assist you in air and sea. Police officers will be given instructions prior to event.” Chen Wei whispered to the private line he held on his hand. Chen Wei’s first term as Chief of the Guang Dong Military Department was going to be easier than he expected. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Good morning!” the boy waved stacks of newspapers at passers-by who avoided him at all costs, “Special issue on Zhang Jian’s power-filled empire at the regions of the Pearl River Delta!” A man in a black hood with a crippled left arm took a newspaper. “Zhang’s empire?” “Yes sir! Zhang Jian, inheritor of Pearl Corporations and a noble party member!” Then, the boy began in a passive voice, “Actually, sir, I’m not very well-paid for this job, and I have a sister at home who is….”

The man with the crippled left arm hurried on. It was already 9:08:35. He would miss the spectacle that he had prepared if he delayed. 9:08:56. He picked up the baton with his left arm and took a deep breath. 9:09:09. The note of vengeance. The cymbals and the heavy splash rained down upon his audience in one clean note. He sat on a bench by the Pearl River Delta as he danced the baton around his palm. Crescendo. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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“Zhang Jian,” the vexatious voice at the other end of the phone was not a morning greeting that anyone would want to wake up to.

“What is it?” Zhang Jian barked into the phone. It was only 9:09:09 A.M. He should really hire an assistant that would not wake him up so early in the morning when they knew that he had spent the night at Dong Guan.

“A reliable source told me that you will soon be prosecuted for bribery.” The voice at the other end droned on. “I shall hand in my resignation letter tomorrow.” “Simply what do you mean? Bribery? I have never committed a crime of that sort! Why, I might have com--” Zhang Jian shut his lips abruptly and slammed down the phone. This was China, after all. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Seventh Body found in Pearl River Delta, Medical Evidence Suggests Death by Murder, Not Suicide. Guang Dong Military Plane Crashes at Pearl River Delta Latest of Pearl Tragedies: Pearl Corporations Cargo Sinks Police Cannot Prevent Suicides? Eleventh Body of Pearl Corporations Executive Found in Pearl River Delta Pearl Corporations and the “Pearl Incidents” The Crumbling of Zhang Jian’s Empire The man pulled on the hood as he continued reading the newspaper articles. 4:44:44 A.M., April 4th. He lowered the baton slowly. Diminuendo. The note of cessation was soon to come. Just then, a man in a suit sat down on the bench. A man who was formerly known as Zhang Jian, who had just had his empire wrecked by a chain of phone calls. “Hi, I am a representative of Hiroshiba. I regret to tell you that…..” “I’m sorry, but we’re pulling out. I know we’re old associates, but when it comes to business, I’ve got to leave friendship behind. I don’t want my name dragged into those bribery cases either, I’m sorry, Zhang. ” “I would like to resign….” Zhang Jian didn’t blame them. Anything associated with the Pearl River Delta carried a foul stench. Zhang Jian looked at the young man seated across from him. He looked quite pleasant, and with those Armani jeans, he was evidently quite well off. Zhang wondered what the young man was doing out here at such an hour. “Hi, it’s only 4 A.M., isn’t it? It’s unusual for young people to be up so early.” Zhang wondered if his attempt to start a conversation would go well with the young man. “Well, I am quite an unusual person, if I do say so myself.” The young man did not turn his head to Zhang while he spoke. A typical sign of unfriendliness. “So… What area are you interested in? Do you have a job?” Zhang’s curiosity drew him in as the young man finally turned his head. “I don’t need a job. I have everything I want right now.” Zhang sighed and murmured to himself, “and I have nothing.” The voice across from him gave a low-pitched chuckle. “I can’t believe it was so easy.” Zhang Jian almost jumped in fright. That familiar voice...No, it simply couldn’t be! But as people so often say, reality is cruel, and Zhang soon found himself thrown into inferno. The chuckle grew louder. “I can’t believe it was so easy to take away everything of yours! I can’t believe your everything was the money that Grandfather gave you. You haven’t changed at all, you’re still the same rapacious man you were 33 years ago, Father.” The man in the black hood unsheathed his face and took off the jacket….. The crippled left arm. Zhang Jian turned to stone as the young man walked over. A predator looming over its prey. “It was so easy, bribing the military to do the dirty work for me using money from your bank account. Shooting down cargos, creating plane crashes…. I felt God’s power transcend in my hands. And I believe it did. God transcended his power to me so that I could punish you.” Those icy eyes brought Zhang back to the night at the alley. That night of fate when he pushed away the last of his troubles. In this dreamlike trance of reality, Zhang finally came to his sense, “You… you were the one who created all the incidents? You killed eleven innocent people to punish me?”

Fiction: Group 3

“I didn’t. The bodies found in the river belonged to those who disagreed with you. Look at the stains of your hands. You thought I died, didn’t you, Father? You know who died? Mother. And all of those other people you ordered to be killed.” His emotionless voice shook the ground as his eyes of glass took their toll on the man standing in front of them. “Your selfishness took away Mother. You took away my everything!”

Zhang was kicked to the ground as a newspaper was flung down in front of him. Oh God. It was her. The woman who he onced loved, but pushed away…. He never wanted to see her again since the night when he held a knife to her throat for the final time. Oh, her eyes, those wistful eyes, telling him to accept the fruit he sowed… He fell to the ground. The weight of her accusations pained him too much…. Leave.

The young man raised his baton. Note of cessation. Bow. Silence.

Fiction: Group 3

Pinewood Battery ISF Academy Secondary Division, Hurley, Erin - 12, Fiction: Group 3

he Battery on the Peak was abandoned. Multi-coloured leaves danced in the breeze and evergreen

moss cloaked the concrete walls. Her hair fluttered in the wind while she peeked inside the dark grey bunker.

Then, history came alive. The Battery was darker than before. ‘Crunch, crunch’, the sound of boots echoed in the air, as she saw the soldiers guarding the Battery, with gleaming guns on shoulders. Chatting and shooting practice replaced the leaf coated ground; the smell of trampled leaves and metal filled her nose. She fixed her eyes on a soldier burying something. She walked towards him, his clothes were covered in mud, fingers drenched in blood, and sandy colored hair caked in dried leaves and plant roots. Her knees buckled, and she dropped onto the dirt. She stared at the boy’s face, realizing that he was quite young, as his eyes stared intensely at an object. He was digging a hole that would cover its shimmering gold surface. Suddenly, shots rang out. Panic flooded the grounds, and screams echoed all around. Japanese filled the air, and corpses lay on the grass. Small pellets flew past her eyes. Chaos was among the troops, she saw the figures darting into different directions, hiding within the shrubs. She smelled the burning bullets, glistening black cannons, loaded,aimed… She stared in horror at the soldier who was burying the shiny item, his blood spilled all over her shoes. Her curiosity got the better of her, as she penetrated the dirt masking the object near the fallen soldier’s hand. Her fingers maneuvered around the mud, until she finally touched the hard surface. She tore the object out of the mud, revealing a small gold nugget the size of a 5 dollar coin. ‘BANG’ She blinked hard. The troops disappeared. The feel of chaos was gone. No screams, no shots, no dead bodies on the hill. No more taste of metal in the wind. She looked down at her shoes, realizing that they were no

longer soaked in blood. She turned to her brother, asking: “Did you see that?” He glanced at her expression, filled with despair and astonishment. She noticed that a small hole was dug around her feet. Her eyes widened as she kneeled down. Her hands smoothed the dirt, until she found what she wanted. The gleaming, chunky surface reflected back at her. “ Are you ok?” She decided not to tell him because she thought that he might think she was crazy. After all, not everyone

has the ability to go back into time.

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Friend

ISF Academy Secondary Division, Mao, Dorothy - 12, Fiction: Group 3

ne day, I could be upgraded to a human.

This was what Ben told himself everyday, but he knew it’d never happen. After

all, he was just a robot, nothing more, nothing less. He stared at his plastic arms and

once again imagined how wonderful it’d feel to have flesh and blood.

“Hey Ben!”

Ben lifted his head and walked towards Kevin, the boy he was programmed to assist. About 34 days

and 7 hours ago, Ben was delivered to the Wong household’s door. He could still remember when he first

opened his robot eyes and the time when he was commanded to ‘become friends’ with Kevin. The child

seems much happier now. He was constantly bullied and didn’t have any human friends, the robot thought

as he walked towards the apartment’s front door, where Kevin, a black-haired boy wearing a dark blue

patterned hoodie and a pair of light brown trousers was waiting with an excited look on his face.

“Before mom and dad went to work, they told me they’re letting us go out to have fun!” Kevin

said while opening the front door. “Now that I’m thirteen, I can go out on my own without any fussy

adults! Isn’t that great, Ben?” Ben answered, “If you say so, Kevin.”

Both robot and the boy stepped out the door, went down the elevator and walked towards the

building’s entrance.

Immediately, a scan result popped up in Ben’s program.

Location: Hong Kong area, Pearl River Delta.

Time: 11:09 AM. Saturday. October 1, 2075

Kevin stuffed his hands into his pockets and said thoughtfully, “Maybe we should take the MTR

to- uh, Shenzhen? I feel like going there. Hold on- how long does it take to get there again?” Ben replied,

“About fifteen minutes. Are you allowed to go to Shenzhen today?” Kevin nodded, “Yup! As long as we

stick together, I’m allowed to go any area in the PRD, but we have to get back home before four thirty or

Mom will ground me.”

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The two took a LightBus and arrived at an MTR station. As usual, there were many people there.

Everything in the station seemed new, and Kevin couldn’t help but stare at the shiny ticket machine screens

and clean, white walls. He paid the ride fee for both Ben and himself with his OctopusNerve, went down

the vacuum elevator, and boarded the train heading towards Shenzhen. While Kevin was dozing off in his

seat, Ben counted the minutes with his internal stopwatch.

“We are now arriving at Shenzhen. Please exit from the right door,” a voice said through the

speakers in the train. Ben woke Kevin up and they exited the MTR station together.

Location: Shenzhen area, Pearl River Delta.

Time: 11:31 AM. Saturday. October 1, 2075

“Woah, I forgot how cool the buildings looked,” Kevin said, staring up in awe at the skyscrapers

that loomed over them. Several clouds were drifting across the pastel blue sky, sometimes obstructing the

hazy sunlight that shone through the gaps between buildings. The roads were busy and brightly colored cars

- many of them were Google cars - were racing past them, creating small gusts of wind. There were

several newly developed air cars floating above their heads as well. It was a good thing the BlueBots were

there to manage the traffic, since the roads and airpaths seemed rather chaotic. Tall palm trees were lined up

at the edge of the sidewalk, looking as if they were waiting in line for something. The gigantic maze of

buildings were filled with people: workers, shoppers, tourists, students, they were all there.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love this place?”

“Yes. Yes you did, Kevin.”

“I just can’t get over how shiny everything is! I mean, it’s not like Hong Kong doesn’t have shiny

buildings, but…It just seems shinier here!”

Ben laughed monotonously. He instantly remembered that he only had a fake, inhuman laugh, and

felt a robotic sadness at the same time.

“Do you want to go see anything here?” The robot asked, trying to divert his attention away from

his ‘emotions’. “Oh yeah, I think we should check out the park over there, and then… a shopping street, I

guess.” Ben nodded and said, “Sure.”

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Fiction: Group 3

Both Ben and Kevin decided that the Shenzhen Central Park was probably one of the most

beautiful parks they’ve ever been to. “There are many healthy trees and plants here. Many GreenBots are on

duty and there are exactly 99 people here,” the robot observed. Kevin sat on the lush, well-trimmed grass,

his fingers fiddling with a tiny flower. “Hm, I don’t know about the plants’ health, but I like the view of

both nature and the city.”

They stayed silent for a while, surrounded by the crisp, cool air, listening to the traffic and the

soothing sounds of rustling leaves and chirping birds. The branches above their heads were swaying gently to

the breeze, and a few leaves slowly drifted to the ground. There were several people fishing by a lake, where

the crystal clear water was glittering under the warm rays of sunlight.

Kevin broke the silence first. “Hey, you think we should see what the shopping streets looks like?”

Ben smiled robotically. “Of course.”

The robot helped Kevin up and they made their way past the loud traffic and into the closest

shopping street they saw. Almost immediately, the voices of people advertising products filled their ears.

From time to time, a slight breeze would carry the smell of freshly baked pastries and perfumed the air with

the sweet fragrance. It was also much busier than Ben had thought. People were entering and exiting shops,

carrying bags, eating fast food, and there were plenty of tourists wandering about, taking pictures. And the

advertisements were everywhere. Before Ben could feel overwhelmed by the number of ads his scanning

system was counting, Kevin ran towards a shop excitedly. “Hey look! It’s the new phone!” He stared at the

big announcement board, which said, “APPLE IPHONE 54 OUT TODAY”.

Ben walked over and examined one of the iPhones on display. “This phone has some new

features,” he started, “it can shrink and enlarge to a certain size. I suppose that explains why the iPads and

iPods aren’t going to be continued anymore.” Kevin was about to reply, but something caught his attention.

The robot looked back at Kevin and detected surprise and worry in the boy’s eyes. “What is it?” The

thirteen-year-old remained silent, and his expression grew dark. Ben directed his gaze at where his human

was staring, and understood. Kevin’s two tormentors from school were here as well, and they were coming

closer. One of them spotted Kevin and snickered, whispering something to his companion. Then he

shouted, “Hey, look, it’s the loner and his robot!” The other bully joined in. “What, can you only make

robot friends now? You truly are pathetic.” The two barged past Ben and Kevin, laughing. “Ben is a better

Fiction: Group 3

friend than any of you are,” Kevin gritted his teeth. His robot looked at him worriedly and immediately

attempted to help. “We shall leave them, Kevin, and go home now.” The young boy nodded, his eyes

distant and filled with rage. “Okay.”

___

Location: Hong Kong area, Pearl River Delta.

Time: 5:39 PM. Saturday. October 1, 2075

“Kevin?” Ben called, looking into his human’s messy room, but no one was there.

They arrived back home at around 2:40 PM. The moment they entered the apartment, Kevin said

he was going to do his homework, and locked himself in his room. Ben had no choice but to accept his

human’s decision to mope around, and went to charge his batteries. By the time Ben was 100% charged and

awake, he decided to check on Kevin again.

Must be at the balcony, then. Doesn’t he like sunsets?

Ben went to the balcony, and saw Kevin staring at the darkening sky, where deep blue was starting

to blend with shades of orange, red and yellow. “Are you alright now?” The robot asked. Kevin didn’t turn

his head around and only muttered something incomprehensible. Ben sighed and walked over to his human,

awkwardly patting him on the back. Then he played a soft, soothing melody from his speakers. Kevin

listened to the song, and couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, okay. I’m alright. Sorry.” The melody stopped,

and Ben said reassuringly, “Don’t be sorry, I’ll be here to listen to your complaints and help. After all, I am a

robot made to help you.”

Again. The truth hurts. Ben felt ‘sad’ once more.

Kevin finally faced Ben. “Thanks,” he said, his voice much brighter. “And don’t be sad about not

being human, you’re not just a robot, okay?” Ben’s ‘sadness’ disappeared after those words.

I’d love to be human, Ben thought, but I can’t deny that having robot abilities are bad. And I also

can’t deny that I love being a friend.

Fiction: Group 3

My Life in the Pearl River Delta ISF Academy Secondary Division, Saunders, Brendan - 12, Fiction: Group 3

ooking down at the beautiful tree tops from the tip of the mountain is breath taking. The leaves

sway ever so gently from side to side as the cool morning breeze rushes over them. From afar, the trees are like fluffy pillows with countless leaves covering their branches. I can feel the magical

sensation of fresh air entering my airways. As I walk through the forest I get a feeling of security. The only place where, no matter who I am or what my appearence, the forest will accept me. No expectations, no

prejudice, simply acceptance. Everybody loves the forest. I could stay in the forest for my whole life, however reality holds me back. I must start the long journey

home. As I begin my walk back down the peak the sun has already started to hover over the horizon, threatening to finally get some rest and let the moon take its shift. Once I reach the bottom of the

mountain, I say goodbye to the woods and head reluctantly back to the city. Agitated drivers repeatedly honk horns, jack hammers pound your ears and sirens of ambulances screech, reminding me of harsh reality. Arriving at the city, I am forced to choke on pollution in the air and the smoke, blown from selfish smokers,

is like fumes from a chimney. The endless traffic jams, where cars spew black exhaust from idling engines, cause pollution . The endless construction with workers digging up roads and sidewalks repeatedly without

second thoughts. And the endless stream of people looking down constantly on their phones act like drunken drivers. It is sickening to think about how we humans are destroying our Earth for our own

benefits and not considering future generations. As I finally reach home, the sun dips behind the horizon as the bright moon comes alive again to show me

the rest of the way home. The moon following me across the dark road is a comforting sitet, knowing that I always have someone looking out for me. However, that feeling is instantly shattered as a huge cloud of

dreadful pollution swallows the graceful moon in one enormous gulp. My bed looks very appealing after today’s long hike. I brush my teeth, put on my pyjamas and jump in bed.

As I place my head on my fluffy pillow, I feel my eyes weighed down. I force myself to take one last look at the hushed forest and let my natural instincts take over.

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Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta ISF Academy Secondary Division, Tam, Andrew - 13, Fiction: Group 3

p the Pearl River, there was a little village built on the sides of two colossal mountains. Fewer than five hundred lived in this arcane village and it was mired in poverty as it was isolated from the modern world. The smog-covered sun was setting as a familiar bustle of laughter and chitchat

filled the blackened air while figures appeared in the afternoon darkness. The children had just left school and stuck in big groups while they flooded into the uneven streets of the village as they all went home to their wooden huts. All of the children except one had returned home. He was a slightly taller boy aged eleven, who was surely as wide as three of his bony and deprived classmates put together. The boy was called Chang, and was infamous for being the greediest boy in the village. Each day after school, Chang would stay at the snack shop and eat until he was full to the brim. Most residents of the village suffered from the severe lack of wealth, however Chang’s family was somewhat wealthier than the rest of the population. Chang’s father, Chao, was a tradesman, who used the Pearl River to his advantage, trading goods in various other villages and cities down the river. “Here you go,” Chang reached into his tight trousers and took out a fistful of coins as he dropped them on the counter, paying for his meal. Chang then ran home, gasping for air every now and then. He trudged down the muddy street as he reached the sturdy oak door of his house. Compared to all the other little shacks, it was like a giant, towering over the others, covering them in both darkness and jealousy. It was a well built house which was located at the edge of the mountainside, right next to the Pearl River. Chang’s family had spent years of hard work building and earning enough money for this masterpiece. It was certainly worth the work. “Welcome home dear, but did you go to the snack shop again?” Chang’s mother asked him accusingly. “Of course I did not!” replied Chang as his cheeks blushed red while sweat oozed out of his scalp. “Well anyway, I have some bad news. I sense a horrible flood coming our way in a few days time, so come back home as quickly as possible okay? I don’t want any of my precious children getting lost and hurt.” Mother solemnly said as she hoped for the best. She had the gift of foresight and was able to predict events before they occurred, but her vision was sometimes obscured and unclear. The days passed but rain fell heavily. The farmers continued farming; the women stayed at home; and the children continued going to school. Then on one particular day, Chang’s life changed forever. That day was especially moody and the clouds were intangible dark sponges filling the afternoon sky. The air was even more polluted than usual and filled everybody’s lungs with filth and chemicals. The wind was strong and it had started raining. As the children piled and tumbled out of the school gates, voracious little Chang forgot what his mother had told him and did not return home as quickly as possible and instead was consumed by his own greed. The chubby and blithe eleven-year-old boy bounced all the way to the snack shop and bought himself some delicious steamy fish balls. While Chang was enjoying himself as he licked his greasy fingers, he did not notice a massive wave of polluted water coming his way. The Pearl River was extremely rough today and smashed its waves against the grubby village with its tremendous strength. Wood was sprayed everywhere and huts and stalls were smashed into smithereens as the villagers had no time to react. The flood was quick, however had been predicted. The once-developing village was no more than a ruin. All but one house survived, the one that was the tallest and sturdiest. Everything in between and on the sides of the mountains had been destroyed and wrecked. The menacing waves still continued slushing onto the remains of the village, drowning it slowly and mercilessly. Not a single house remained, as bodies floated in the sickly water of the Pearl River. Everything was silent. Nothing moved. No sound was heard. The deafening silence was miraculously broken when a short thick hand shot up from the water, grabbing the big and flat piece of wood that used to hold the snack stall together. Out of pure luck, Chang had survived. His round head popped up from the water as he desperately inhaled air. Chang tried to pull himself up, but every time he tried, he just splashed back into the oily water. It was as if the water was clinging onto him like some sort of slime. Chang continued to clutch on to the piece of wood like a baby clinging onto its mother; regretting not following his mother advice, therefore scolding himself for not doing so. The river continued to carry him

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Fiction: Group 3

downstream as he whimpered in fear and guilt. He should have gone home as quickly as possible, but it was now too late. The poor boy cried until his eyes became dry and red. His clothes were damaged and the filthy water stuck to him as if it were a second skin. As he got carried into the river further, the water got more rapid and pulled harder at his tree trunk legs. Chang’s grip slipped, causing him to panic in despair as he fell in the water. As he flailed his arms in the gunk, he did not notice the big piece of debris coming at him. It smacked into Chang’s chubby face and knocked him out unconscious. A throb of pain filled the Chinese boy’s head as a faint ringing sound filled his ears. Then his eyes malfunctioned and all he saw was darkness while his body continued down the river as he faced the sky. “Wake up little boy, you are safe now.” Said a stranger comfortingly. Chang lay lifelessly on the metal deck of a patrol ship. The boy had gone through so much and his face was pale and sickly. The stranger was a Guang Dong marine and blew air into his mouth. Luckily and abruptly, Chang sprang to life as polluted water poured out of his mouth. “Where am I, and who are you?” Chang said hoarsely “You’re on a police boat. I am Lam and I will take you to safety. We found you unconscious floating on the Pear River. You’re lucky to have survived this.” The stranger known as Lam answered. Chang did not know how to react to this. He was hundreds of miles from home while his family was guaranteed dead, however he had survived and had made his way to the famous city. He broke down and started crying tears of joy and sadness. Lam comforted him and asked Chang where he would like to go. Lam told him that upstream, there was an ashen city named Guang Zhou with many tall pipes which released pollution into the air. There were many factories producing all sorts of, cars, toys and electronics. However it was not a very cheerful place, since there was a lot of pollution. But on the other hand, there was a glamorous city downstream with flashing lights and busy people, bustling around in their fancy cars. Even their happiness could be seen through the steamy and salty air of the river. That was Hong Kong, a metropolis full of happy people who lived their lives like nobles. It was obvious which place Chang would like to go to and inferred that he would rather go to place with happier people. Chang told Lam that he would rather go to Hong Kong, so Lam shrewdly commandeered the boat. It felt like thousands of years since the boat was slow, but Chang finally found himself in the magical place. It consisted of tall buildings and humid weather. In the village, his house was the biggest of them all, however compared to the colossal titans in Hong Kong, it was nothing. The streets were new and bustling with people. His stomach growled as he prowled the streets, looking for something to eat. He saw a lively traditional noodle stall which smelled if fish balls and decided to eat there as he ambled over determinedly with the last of his strength. As he arrived, Chang vacillated a bowl of soup, so the shopkeeper asked kindly for him to pay. He reached into his wet pockets, but all he got was a handful of air. Tears welled in Chang’s eyes as the shopkeeper gave him an understanding smile and a hot bowl of soup, which helped bolster his mood. He comforted Chang and asked him what had happened. Chang sniffed and explained himself and the kind Samaritan listened, sympathetically and said,” I’m so sorry, but you are here now. This is Hong Kong and it will be your new home.” The middle aged shopkeeper adopted Chang as they quickly engendered a close relationship. At last, the boy was safe in the hands of the shopkeeper, an epitomize of a good Samaritan, affirming again that he would raise Chang like his own son.

Fiction: Group 3

The New Tales of The Pearl River Delta ISF Academy Secondary Division, Tang, Lauren - 11, Fiction: Group 3

y eyelids opened directly at my fishing rod, what a beauty! I got up tired from my old torn up, mattress; the air was intoxicated with the smell of fresh fish, which came from the direction of the hot fire where Ba-Ba was. It was a Sunday morning bright, beginning of a breezy orange

autumn in 1850. Ba-Ba and I always sit by the Pearl River Delta fishing, waiting patiently like a tortoise in the story of ‘Hare and the Tortoise’. Suddenly the door creaked open and a figure stepped out of its shadow. “Mei! Jin tian yao qu diao yu!” Ba-Ba reminded me, that we were going fishing that day. “Okay, Ba-Ba,” I replied softly, sounding like those birds twitter in the morning. I stepped out of the bedroom door gracefully, checking that my neat black locks are still in place. I grabbed my fishing rod, like it was a bow rushing out to go hunting for hares. Ba-Ba and I always lived this way ever since Ma-Ma died from pneumonia; we do our best to survive the poor life of fishermen. I skipped to my beloved father, “What’s for breakfast today, Ba-Ba?” I asked politely as I can, to please him. I think he noticed the great big smile on my face, “Red Snapper”. As we sat down on the long log with a THUMP! My breakfast flew up into the air, and I started running wildly, and then bumped violently into a boy about my age wearing a green shirt and blue thin pants, realizing it’s my best friend Kong-Xiu, with the fish splattered on his head. “Nice way of saying Zao Shang Hao (Good Morning), Mei” he smirked while putting my tasty cooked fish back on my plate. “Sorry, Kong-Xiu” I swept off the dirt on my skirt, and went off with Kong-Xiu back to Ba-Ba. After our delicious breakfast, we waved bye to Kong-Xiu, grabbed our fishing rods and headed off to the river. When we sat down at the river, Papa took one look at the river, and I had no idea what he was looking at, we stared wandering what it was. Was it another ship stocking fishes? Was it a white dolphin hopping up and down? I saw in the distance something huge and white coming closer, so I started to worry. “Ba-Ba? What is that?” I asked in a confused way. “Mei, my princess, its our customers”, Ba-Ba continued to stare at the river looking in excitement, but in a serious way. We continued to fish at the same spot like every other Sunday, the moment I happily raised my fishing rod, the huge white thing was a ship with the word written on the side ‘Henderson 44’ docked at the pier. Who would name their ship that? Apparently in China, people say if something has more 4s than it will be unlucky. As the ship stopped, a British man stomped out of the boat; he was wearing a black fitted waistcoat, arm by arm with a lady who wore an elegant long short-sleeve dress. I didn’t know what my father was thinking, he greeted the British with a hello, and they began to start talking about opium. In the early to late 1800’s the British travelled into the Pearl River Delta importing a drug called Opium, selling them to the Chinese in Canton. Ba-Ba called me over to introduce them to me; I gave them the cold shoulder. I had a bad feeling about them coming over to China, I don’t even know why. “Mei, this is Thomas Henderson the captain of this boat and his wife Margret Henderson”, He introduced me to them. “Please to meet you!” Thomas shook hands with me, but I quickly took my hand away. Ba-Ba’s face changed to embarrassment. As the days passed by, the Chinese haven’t been making as much money, the business for people overall has been slow ever since the British arrived. Then one day, Kong-Xiu ran to my house looking very worried, but what was wrong? “Mei! My father! opium!!” He panted, while trying to breathe normally. “What’s wrong?” I asked. He was so worried I invited him to have green tea at our house. “Now Kong-Xiu, tell me what’s wrong?” I asked looking puzzled. “Do you know the ship that is named ‘Henderson 44’?” Kong-Xiu was biting fingernails (He has a habit of doing that). I nodded.

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Fiction: Group 3

“Well, ever since that ship came my father has been smoking the opium and he was not in any condition to go fishing anymore. I begged him to do his work, but he always said he needed a break. He hardly does any work now, we need to stop the opium coming into China,” He declared, and I agreed. Luckily for our family, Ba-Ba doesn’t like smoking opium. He believes that we shouldn’t rely on opium and we should work hard. Over the years more and more British ships have been sailing into the Pearl River Delta dumping waste into the area where we normally fish. Ba-Ba and I had to find another estuary to go fishing. Ba-Ba always shook his head at the estuary and it reflected back at him like it had it’s own feelings. The next sunny day, Ba-Ba and I skipped along the pier where people were off sleeping on the grounds, moaning like cows. Suddenly, my eyes laid on Kong-Xiu’s father. “Ba-Ba, look there’s Kong-Xiu’s father!” I whispered to Ba-Ba who seemed quite afraid of all these men. He nodded. He was on the ground holding an opium pipe in his hands. Ba-Ba and I ran quickly as we could to him, and helped him get up onto his feet. Kong-Xiu and his mother must be worried sick, so we dragged him all the way to his house like a wheelbarrow. Once we got back to their house, he looked worse than ever before, his face was withdrawn, gaunt and his body was emaciated. It was a horrible and terrifying sight. “Ba-Ba!” Kong-Xiu ran to his father gleefully, jumping and leaping like he never been happy before. However, in return his father just started making his way to the bed, snuggled in like he wasn’t accustomed to. “What happened to him?” His wife started asking us; to my surprise she was totally oblivious to the effects of opium. I let Ba-Ba do the talking, “We found him on the streets smoking opium. We couldn’t just let him die out there, so we took him here” “Well, I appreciate you for taking him back home. Xie Xie (thank you),” she bowed. Will the whole of China be taking opium forever? Who will stop this? I wondered in my head. This whole entire opium trade was ruining China’s prosperity and my family’s fishing business, what are we going to do? “Mei! Mei!” Kong-Xiu was calling my name, I didn’t even pay attention. “W-What?” I stuttered. I followed him to his room, it was just like my torn up old mattress with a dark musty smelly room. We sat on his mattress, sitting there in complete silence. We had never been this quiet, we used to play as soldiers going into war. Now we don’t do that anymore, because the situation was getting worse, people were smoking opium, unhappiness was unfolding in households. As the British were prospering selling opium to the Chinese, the Chinese wealth was declining. “So,” I broke the silence, “Do you want to go dolphin watching?” “Okay,” Kong-Xiu sniffed, ”Let’s go to the river” For a moment we took a break from reality and jumped into freedom and ran off to the river observing the magnificent beautiful white & pink dolphins. They are the beauty of the Pearl River Delta; they’re like an imperial family. We think of them as our guardians, the ones who make our rivers special, as we watched the dolphins jump up and down in the water doing back flips. I heard a sniff from Kong-Xiu, all he had been through with his father, I feel for him... “Thanks, Mei for bringing me here,” He started to say, “I wouldn’t calm down without this or without you”. I hugged him as tight as I could, a friendly hug, or a best friend hugs. “That is what best friends are for,” I smiled, “And you are my best friend”. When the sun started slowly drifting down, we headed back home. It felt great to cheer somebody up, by taking him or her to the river watching dolphins and sunsets. What can I say? It’s my favourite place where I find solitude, peace and calmness; it’s an escape, a place where I can dream. When Ba-Ba and I walked back home, a friendly voice came along with a British accent. It was the man who Ba-Ba introduced me to Captain Henderson. “Hello how was your day? Have you seen your mates?” Thomas chirped, like he was stalking us. “Oh, fantastic!” I replied with sarcasm…

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Island School, Bindal, Vrinda - 13, Fiction: Group 3

ggie was just an ordinary girl who lived in Hong Kong. She would go to school, come home, finish homework then go for an activity. She loved swimming and it was her favourite sport. Her best subject was English and she was very good at creative writing.

One day her friend, Kelly came up to her “Aggie! I know you’re really good at creative writing, I was finishing my homework yesterday, when this ad popped up, it’s for the Hong Kong Young Writers Award this year, why don’t you enter? I got all the details here” “Thanks a lot Kelly, but I like creative writing just for fun, not for competitions” However, this set Aggie’s mind working “Wait, Kelly, is there a theme?” “Yeah, Tales of the Pearl River Delta” That night, after some research, Aggie got a paper and started writing: The Pearl River Delta is a river that flows in between Macau and Hong Kong and into the South China Sea. It is formed by three other, major rivers. The North, East and West. Now let’s go back to the 18th century, when Saint Paul’s Cathedral was still standing. A couple was going to get married. This couple lived in Hong Kong. This couple had a house in Cheung Chau, as this is where they both first met. Why had they picked to get married at Saint Paul’s Cathedral? Ashley, the bride, had heard that this cathedral was one of the largest catholic churches in Asia… “Hmm…I wonder how they got to Saint Paul’s- oh I know!!” In the 18th century, travelling by ferry wasn’t very common as it is now. Ferry prices were really expensive so only well-off people could afford it then. Ashley had never travelled by ferry unlike David, who had travelled a couple of times- all of them were during New Year’s Eve. “David, what’s it like travelling by ferry?” Ashley asked for the thousandth time that day “Ashley…just wait and see” David laughed. Finally, it was time for the wedding. The couple headed off to the pier. While on the pier, the clouds started to turn greyish “Ashley, I think it might rain” “Yeah, I think so too” The ferry finally arrived, it was going to take them to Macau via the Pearl River Delta, “Ashley, this river we are going through is called the Pearl River Delta” David said teasingly, knowing that Ashley was a history teacher, “This seems a lot like the story mom told me, about grandma...” Aggie said to herself By the time they reached Macau pier, it was raining really heavily. Luckily, David had hired a carriage for their wedding. It would drive them to the cathedral A lot of people came to the wedding ceremony, friends and family. By now the weather was terrible. Thunder and Lightning had started. Suddenly, everyone started whispering. There was a smell of smoke coming from somewhere and then the fire alarm went off. Everyone flew into a panic, screaming and shouts were heard as the roof caught on fire. David and Ashley were separated. Ashley found her parents, talking to David’s parents “Mama, Papa, where’s David” “Oh my god, Ashley is fine, stay with me, now sweetheart” her mom said “Where’s David Mama?” “We don’t know-oh, someone called Macau Broadcasting??! I’m not in the mood for this, my son could be seriously hurt!!” David’s mom yelled “I need to call grandma” Aggie declared to herself and slid off her chair to get the phone “Hello?” answered an old voice at the other end of the line “HI Grandma!!” “Oh, Aggie, how nice to hear your voice, why are you calling me so late?” ‘Oh, Grandma, I need to talk to you about your wedding, it’s for a competition, names have been changed but I need all the details” “Aggie…” “I know grandma you don’t like talking about your wedding, but please!!” Grandma finally gave in with a sigh “Which part do you want to know?” “When you found your parents” “When I found my parents, the news reporters arrived as well, and they were heading for us…”

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Fiction: Group 3

Grandma continued the story and Aggie took notes. At the end of the call, Aggie decided to continue her story the next day “Tomorrow is Saturday, I have a lot of time” she thought as she slipped into bed. The next morning… “Hi, we are the MBC N- ““Not now, my son could be seriously hurt, at this time do you really think I can answer your questions?” David’s mom screeched “Oh! Your son is missing, how old is he?” “I don’t mean to interfere, but now is not the time…Sasha” Ashley’s mom said impatiently and hurried away with Ashley and David’s mom “Ashley! CAREFUL” here mother yelled as lightning bolt struck near her. Suddenly Ashley felt some heat near her and turned around to see the entire cathedral on fire “Good morning Aggie!” “Morning Mom, what is grandma’s name?” “Cecilia, why?” “Just asking” “What’s this?” she asked picking up the paper “Oh, that, it’s a story I’m writing for a competition, the Hong Kong Young Writers Award- Oh, I have an idea” Aggie said and went back to writing “MAMA BE CAREFUL!!” Ashley yelled, “THE CATHEDRAL IS ON FIRE!” she continued. Ashley was suddenly lifted into the air by her dad “Ashley! You’re ok!” “Papa!! I can’t go home without David” “David is fine, there are cars coming in, get in one and tell the driver to drive you to grandma’s house ok?” Her dad firmly instructed “ok” Ashley agreed sadly “GRANDMA!” cried Ashley in between tears “Ashley?!” her grandma asked and welcomed her in a hug Back at the cathedral, Ashley’s family and David’s family were still looking for David. David’s mom saw two people carrying a stretcher and a body lying on it. “Let’s go there! it might be David!” She yelled, everyone started running towards the stretcher “David!” Ashley’s mom cried “Ma’am you know this person?” “He was supposed to marry my daughter today” “Sir, is he alive?” David’s mom cut in “Sorry Ma’am, but we think he might have gone already, we are taking him to the nearest hospital to confirm what we think, and if he is alive, to give to give the correct treatment needed” the other doctor said Ashley was lying on the couch sadly sipping some chicken soup when the phone rang. Ashley’s grandma picked it up and handed the phone to Ashley after a minute or so “Hello?” Ashley asked “Ashley, we found David” her mom said through the other line “REALLY!!! May I speak to him?!” She asked excitedly “Ashley...David. Um… Doctors found him. They believe he is in a coma, but expecting him to wake up in a while Ashley was speechless, and suddenly burst into tears. “Oh, Ashley, what are you going to do?” her grandma comforted her after the devastating phone call. “I-I- don’t know, the-the-the storm might have killed him and I will never find someone who will love me like him” “Dear, dear, let’s not be sill and calm down first, how about you sleep now and we talk about this is in the morning?” After breakfast the next morning, Aggie had come back to work on her piece again, “What else can I add? Ashley can wake up in the morning and sorts out what she will do with her grandma?- I know!!” Ashley woke up in the morning with her face all red and wet. She had cried herself to sleep because she was too sad about David. Her thoughts from David turned to school. “I need to call the school; I can’t find a substitute right now.” She went down to eat breakfast and she thought she might go out for a while to calm down. Just as she was heading out the door, the phone rang “Ashley, We’re at the hospital, the doctors say David might live!!” She called a friend to ask for a ride to back to Macau. Ashley felt she could re-collect her thoughts and see what damage had been done. While crossing the river again Ashley asked “Lia, do you know anything about the Pearl River Delta?” “Well, I think people want to build it into a megacity of some sort, I don’t know much. I focus on where I am going when I row, not really on the history of what I am rowing on. I believe though that the river cause bad luck though, which is why I hate rowing through it” Suddenly, Lia caught sight of St. Pauls Cathedral. “It’s all gone, but the front!!” She screamed. Ashley jerked, making the boat rock. Lia and Ashley both fell in to the water

Fiction: Group 3

3 hours later, Ashley made it to the hospital. She was too late. David had an internal bleeding somewhere in his body and the doctors weren’t quick enough to locate the bleeding. “Lia was right about her beliefs on the river. The cathedral set on fire, I lost David because I wasn’t quick enough, me and Lia fell off the boat and into the water, we had to swim back to shore because the boat sank and I was three hours late. What’s going to happen next?” Ashley wailed Aggie dotted her last sentence. “I’m done. I don’t like sad endings…hmm maybe there will be a sequel, which ends in a much happier way” and off she went, to submit her work.

Fiction: Group 3

A Nightmare of the Three Gorges Island School, Dharmawan, Athena - 13, Fiction: Group 3

une 3, 1993 was the day my nightmare began. It’s the day my family was forced out of our boat, the day which ended our lives as fishermen and a tragic time which changed the life of us, I was only 9. I’m Xiaoyang or “little sheep”, my dad gave me this nickname to prevent the spirits and demons from

harming me as I was sick a lot when I was young. Our family was poor, so as many fishermen like us. We were one of the 50 families lived along the shore of Liujiagang, Jiangsu province. We dock our boats on the Liu River all year round, and like our ancestors, we depend on the water for everything. We eat and sleep on our boats and rely on Yangtze River fishing for our livelihoods. My family had been fishermen for 3 generations. It all started with my great-grandfather whose parents were so poor that they sold him to a fisherman who had no son. After the fisherman died, my grandfather inherited the boat where we lived until that wretched day! My school was a 2 miles walk from the shore and after school I would help my dad to set out the nets. Though peaceful, it was a hard life even for a kid like me.

I remembered a few months back my parents took me to a meeting in this big town hall, my neighbours were there too. The officials on the stage were announcing a project called the "Three Gorges Dam”, they said it would be the largest construction project since the Great Wall. I had never been to the Great Wall, but my teacher taught us it’s a wall made of stones and bricks built across the historical northern borders of China to protect the Chinese Empire but I had no clue what a dam was. I asked my dad, but he was listening so intently with angst that he didn’t hear me. My mum explained to me later that it’s a barrier to obstruct the flow of water, however this dam would stretch a half miles wide, more than 600 feet high and nearly 400 miles long. The dam would submerge more than 100 towns once the water starts to rise in 2003. The government wanted us to relocate… and soon! My father and our neighbours were furious yet helpless.

On the day of evacuation, there were hundreds of police wearing white gloves and white suits surrounding the area. They were there not only to instruct the evacuation but to suppress those residents who refused to obey the order. I was helping my mum to pack while my younger brother was playing in the corner when we heard heavy footsteps on our boat followed by poundings on our cabin door. “Open!” they cried. I stared at my mother in shock; she hugged me while my father looked away and went to open the door. “You all have to leave now!” one of the policemen commanded. My father just stared at him blankly. He shouted again but my father didn’t respond he just had his hand blocking the door so the police couldn’t come in. Mother was shuffling things around while mumbling, “We’ll go, we’ll go…” Suddenly my father yelled at them, “We aren’t going anywhere! This is OUR HOME!” Every scene after that moment had since been playing in slow motion over and over again in my head, I saw my father pulled from the door by the police and was dragged to the shore, my mother was trying to stop them but she was held by 2 policemen. They kicked and beat my father non-stop until he laid there all bloody and lifeless. They left my father there and warned us to say nothing of the incident. Otherwise, we would end up like father, beaten, helpless on the ground. Our neighbours all started to leave after seeing what had happened. With the help of some, we took our father to the hospital. My father survived but ended up paralyzed shoulders down from the injury. We moved to Chongqing after my father was better. The compensation from the government was a meager 50 yuan per month, much less than what they have promised. My mother went to work in a factory, while I dropped school to take care of my brother and my father. Then my mother fell sick 2 years later, she got breast cancer, the doctor said that there was no hope since the cancer was in the advanced stages. My mother had bravely faced her disease; she continued to work until the last few months when she

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Fiction: Group 3

was in such pain that she could no longer function. My father’s heart was broken when she passed away. He told me to send a letter to our relative in Shanghai begging them to take my brother who was only 5. I was on my own since my father passed away due to heart failure. He just never recovered after my mother’s death and my brother went to Shanghai. I had started doing odd jobs until I met Lao San. Lao San has given me a sales job at his factory manufacturing baby milk formula. My job was to visit farms in dairy areas hawking "protein powder" additives, melamine. What I didn’t know was the formula could kill babies. There were loud pounding on the door again, “Open the door!” they cried, the pounding continues as well as my nightmares…..

Fiction: Group 3

The Pearl River Delta Island School, Measures, Zachary - 13, Fiction: Group 3

m a fisherman; I’ve been a fisherman for 27 years now. I’m getting old I’m 64 now and I’m planning to retire at 65. I’ve done many jobs in the past where the Pearl River Delta flows but this has been by far the best one. This is my story.

I was born on June the 16th 1950 to a rich Chinese father who had recently moved to Hong Kong, he had already made money and he was old for a man who just had a kid at age 50 years of age. So his plan was to move here to retire and fish, this is when my current passion began, I would go out every weekend with him to fish. Everything was going well apart from school I was falling behind in school, and eventually when I was ten my Father decided that he was wasting his money on sending me to a private school. So I finally, at age eleven, moved to a local school, I still wasn’t succeeding, but my Father didn’t care anymore, as he wasn’t “wasting his money on it”. I then started to notice my parents fighting a lot and this made me feel … not safe in a sense; and eventually at age 14 my parents divorced. This hurt me so much, I might’ve not shown it on the outside but on the inside I just wanted to go somewhere no one could ever find me and never come back. However with time I got over this and I felt all right, this was affecting my grades massively even more badly than before I was only getting F’s, E’s and the occasional D. When it came to my GCSE’s two years later I did just bad. I got a D in every subject, this saddened my Father so he decided to practice something that I was good at and I could make a living out of – fishing. I practiced every day for two weeks and then gave up. At this point in my life I was very depressed and I didn’t have any confidence in myself. So in an act of sadness I decided to drop out of school, at age 16. My father never wanted to see me again, so he kicked me out of the house. I considered living with my Mum, but I decided to fend for myself so I started a long trek to Shenzhen where I thought I could find work. I had finally got there after 4 days of hiking from The Peak; I had to sleep in hotel lobbies every night. I went searching for a job in the fishing industry but there were none available as fishing in Shenzhen at the time was limited. So I decided to go and work in a factory where they make sports products for Adidas, I worked there in terrible conditions until I was 21 when I had enough money to buy a very small property, (while I was working there I slept in the factory). So now that I had my own apartment I decided that I needed a “promotion” so I decided to work at a hotel in a rich area in Shenzhen, this meant that the commute to work was around an hour. I had to get up at 5:00am every morning just to get to work in time. I served some of the most famous people in the world in this hotel, such as Michael Jackson, Will Smith and the whole French national football team. I worked in the same role in the company until I was 33. Then I got a huge promotion to manager of the hotel, I was extremely proud of myself at the time, because this meant that I was making triple the amount per month; with this money I bought a place in the rich area that was massive and I ate well every night unlike before. However after a while this wasn’t satisfying me, I needed to do something that I loved and for me that thing was always fishing. So at age 37 I decided to find a job in fishing. This meant that I didn’t always eat well at night because my wages were halved but if it was for something that I love I didn’t care. After two years I thought that maybe I was too good for a job like this so I decided to set up my own company, and effectively I was putting myself back to square one, for the first three months it was just me, a boat and a fishing rod. But then some young people were looking to be in the fishing industry so I had six people fishing with me. Everything was going well as each year went by I had more and more people joining me and I was earning triple the money I was earning as a hotel manager. By the time I was 49 I started actually fishing less and managing the company more, so I decided to manage the company from Hong Kong, my hometown. Soon after moving there I met a lovely woman called Jenny and after only six months we decided to get married and have a kid. Soon after having this kid I realized that I was my father - a 50-year-old Chinese man, with a newborn baby, here to fish. This saddened me because I didn’t want to be like him at all, because he was never there for me and was a horrible father. But now 14 years down the line my son isn’t failing school, he is a very good student, and he is going to the best school in Hong Kong. His mother and I are still together and Jake and I are fishing every weekend.

I’

Fiction: Group 3

Diary Island School, Oliver, Jack - 13, Fiction: Group 3

Dear Diary:

oday I’m going to explain my life to you. Just imagine. You have just met me. I am nothing to you. I am a collection of cells with unique genes and you judge me as a book by its cover. I have a dirty appearance. I look poor, unintelligent and sad. Well, you’d be right about some of those

assumptions, and for some of them? You’d be wrong. But that’s not important. What’s important is that I’m only twelve, but I’ve heard stories about life, and I’ve heard that it’s short. So I think to myself: “Why not live it as it is?” Because all forms of life are beautiful, no mater appearance or opinion. Everyone’s different. And that’s what I’ve come to accept. Acceptance is better than rejection. And Acceptance doesn’t come to someone naturally, like most things do. It has to be superficial, artificial, even. Man-made! Something has to convince you that life is better than you think it is. Regardless if that ‘something’ is another human being, or in my case, a river. ————————————————————————————————————————— As a worker on a small field in a small unknown area in China, my best trait is that I have a smart eye. Well, at least that’s what dad calls it. Well, called it. My dad’s dead, but I live with my mum. Saul lives next to me, who is my best friend. My name’s Chan. Did I mention that? Probably not. I’m forgetful. Oh, what was I saying? Oh yeah. Every day I wake up at 6:30, or at least I assume at that time, as I don’t have a pocket watch. And I spend around four to five hours fishing. It’s not technically work, but mum makes me do it every day, so I consider it work. You know, I could vaguely make attempts to argue with my mum, and convince her to let me skip work on weekends, but to be honest, we’d starve without fish. Fish is the only food we’ve eaten for about a year and I can’t just suddenly stop supplying our food! I only catch about five fish a day, but that’s quite reasonable for four and a half hours. It’s enough for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But I wish we could eat something different once in a while. Fish gets old, and I can’t stand the static, bland taste of the salty creature. Someday I have a feeling that the whole river may become nothing but a puddle of black sludge and boned fish, if factories around here keep up pumping their leftovers into the river. Mum and dad used to tell me that the river used to be a main source of elegant pearls. It’d always make me wonder how clean the water must’ve been when they collected pearls. Dad died two years ago. I was only ten when it happened. I got home and mum was sitting on the opposite side of the table, where dad usually sat, crying. I was shocked, as I could barely take the bad news in, I wasn’t crying; just thinking about life, how it would be without a critical family member. Not only emotionally, for the first time in my life I was thinking smartly; “How will this impact us financially?”. It’s not like I would know, ha, I was a ten year old! If I ever had a smart thought in my ten year old self, it was probably “How is it possible that fish are so stupid they eat bait on hooks even though they’ve witnessed their fish friends die from it, or even they can see the hook?” But I’ve come to accept that dad has passed, and that he looks down on us every day. Once I’ve ended my work day I come home with the caught fish. I’ve learned to live with it, but the fish usually have a green layer of some sort of mould strung around them. They have some blue spots as well, some clumps of dead skin and scales piled and stuck on their skin, some sort of debris, as I imagine it. I’ve never thought about it when I eat the fish, but mum always cuts that part out, so we never eat it. The only way we get money is from the fish we sell. If I ever have any leftover I always make an attempt to sell it. This is only successful half the time, but it’s worth a try. My house is small, but it’s not like that’s a bad thing. I’ve never been claustrophobic and I enjoy being in small spaces, thinking about it now, I’m actually the opposite of claustrophobic! Fancy that! I have chores, responsibilities and education - well, you could call it that if you’re desperate. I go to a small local school that considers ‘education’ cramming fifty kids into a single classroom and attempt to explain how two plus

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two equals four. After school, I go and play with Saul just to clear my mind and relax. Usually football. A football was my last and only Christmas gift. Even when I was sad and I needed to be by myself, the river was the best place to go. Not just because it cheered me up, but probably because of what it did. Some time ago, this beauty was producing amazing pearls, we’re talking the creamiest white colour as an extremely round and smooth. However, now it’s done. It’s finished its work and is retired. Pearls don’t appear out of nowhere now. But what really matters about this river is, even though it may be filled with black sludge and green goop, once in its lifetime it did something amazing. So that’s what convinced me. Not only to live life to its fullest; but to stand out from the crowd - be productive, smart - to be what you can only bring yourself to be. So out of all of this, what’s so important? Well, just remember. If you’re like me, right now. Sitting in a room, depressed, getting yelled at by mum, dad or even your sister, failing school - don’t be me. Don’t wait for that one day to come where your life succeeds victory. Make it happen. Don’t just sit there and read, or talk. Get up. Do something. Something productive. Something amazing with your life. Doesn’t matter if it’s crazy! Or stupid! Make mistakes! Learn from them! Do something awesome! Do something that’ll make yourself proud with yourself. Achieve something. No matter whether it be producing beautiful shining pearls, or a line of chips or drinks, at least after you’ve done something that makes you feel good, you have the right to retire and live the rest of your life as it is. Because life’s too short to be paranoid about being judged. They will accept you for who you are. ————————————————————————————————————————— Because that’s what important. Acceptance. Acceptance is better than rejection. And it doesn’t come to someone naturally, like most things do. It has to be superficial, artificial, even. Something in your life has to convince you that life is better than you think it is. Regardless if that ‘something’ is another human being, an animal, an issue, ANYTHING! Or even in my case… A river. And that, is my story. Thanks, Diary. From Chan.

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Tales of Pearl River Delta Island School, Singh, Aryani - 13, Fiction: Group 3

ilence surrounded me as I lie wide awake on my bed. I stared at the ceiling. It was beginning of December, too cold for my liking. I looked out the window as the cold wind made the curtain sway, creating a ghastly figure. I could hear typing in the other room, which gave me hint that Carlos was

still awake. He’s been working really hard since we moved to Macau, which was a week ago. I didn’t want to move here, it’s just we travel way too much, and I just felt like we should settle down somewhere. But being an archaeologist doesn’t help. I got up from the bed and stroll out to the living room, where I saw Carlos typing away on his laptop. “You aren’t sleeping Adlyne?” he questioned, while putting his laptop aside. “No. What are you doing up so late?” I asked him. “Well you see. We’ve got an investigation at the Pearl River Delta Region tomorrow, and it seems like we have a lot work ahead. So you might want to get some sleep.” He told me with a sigh. “Let’s go get some sleep then.” I told him while pulling him up with me. With that we both went to bed. I tried not think too much, so I closed my eyes and let the sleep come over me. Tomorrow was going to be long day. I woke up as a cold breeze hit my face. I shuddered as cool gust of wind hit me again. I turned over to look over at Carlos. He was dozed off, he sleeps like a log, nothing ever seems to wake him up. I checked the time, it was 7:05 in the morning. We don’t have to get ready until the next two hours. I flicked Carlos nose, hoping he would get up. But he turned around facing his back towards me. Giving up I stood up and went to the bathroom to get ready. When I got ready and went out the bathroom. Carlos was in the middle of the bed snoring away. I ignored him and went downstairs. I noticed a file lying on the coffee table. The cover read “The Barren Land of Pearl River Delta Region”, so this was what Carlos was talking about last night. I took the file and opened the first page and started reading. The file was about the investigation we had to do today. The place was a beach near a forest at the Pearl River Delta. Between the file lay a picture of the place. The sky seemed seem to have been hung by gloom, and the water was pitch black. I put the picture on the table, but I couldn’t get my eyes off it. The picture was captivating. I wonder what had happened in this place. A loud yawn pulled me out of my thoughts. “So you finally decided to wake up?” I asked him, but it sounded more like a statement. He looked at me and then to the file that was lying on my lap. “Oh, so you already read that. Great because you would eventually have too.” he said. “The place, well…It seems very barren. Either the place has nothing at all or it is filled with secrets that we have to discover.” I replied. I was actually quite interested to go check this place. “Well, we leave in the next forty-five minutes, which means you better start getting ready.” I pointed. “Yeah right.” he said while sticking his tongue out at me. I rolled my eyes at him and left. “Wear something warm. I’ve heard it is freezing there in winter.” Carlos called back at me. “Yeah, okay.” I mumbled and went to change my clothes. I put on a pair of jeans, a full-sleeved shirt, a thick coat and a pair of boots and left my room. I waited for Carlos to come out. He came out carrying the bag of tools we needed for investigating. We made our way to the barren beach at the other end of Macau. We drove till the beach, where we met our guide Serena Hui. She greeted us with a hello and took us to the place that I saw in the picture. The sky was suffocating, the dark clouds pressing in as if to crush you, the sea was pitch black, it was crashing against the rocks violently as if to shatter them any second. I looked around, the near the end of the beach there was a large rock almost like a rock. The waves were clashing furiously on the little cliff like rock. I noticed a shadow like figure on the end of the rock, I looked up at the sky and and looked back at the rock. I noticed that the figure was gone. I might have just imagined it, so I turned around and walked over to Carlos, who was taking the tools out the began the work.

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Me and Carlos started looking around the shore for some rocks, to find some evidence from something from the past. I collected some rocks in a box, which I could study when I was back home. I felt a cool breeze pass me, it felt like I heard a sound, almost like a whisper calling someone. I looked around to see who the whisper belonged to. I found no one except Carlos, who was busy looking at some specific rock that he found. I start working again. But this time, I could feel the whispers get louder. I ignored it. Soon the whisper turned into an angry hiss. I felt like someone was trying to get my attention. I look around, searching for who was trying to get my attention. Then I noticed a shadowy figure on the little cliff. I strained my eyes to look carefully at it. I went a bit closer, to get a clear picture. Soon I noticed the figure was a girls figure, she beckoned me to come closer. My mind told me not to go closer, but my feet weren’t listening. I felt like being dragged towards the girl. I could hear her whispering something to me. As I got closer her voice became clearer. She wore a black sleeveless dress, her hair were brown and her eyes. Her eyes were a light hue of blue, her stare was boring into my head, sending shivers down my spine. “Join me. Feel the breeze. Feel it against your face, let it flow in your hair.” she said. I wanted to speak, say something anything, but my mouth was sealed. All I did was just stare. The girl kept talking. “You know, the world is cruel. Very cruel, they only expect, never give. They only want success. Without success you are a lizard being squashed under their feet. They break you until you cannot stand up. But we can escape this, we can be free.” She whispered to me softly. I could hear Carlos call me from the back. But his calls were mixed with the wind. All I seem to know was the girl calling me towards her and I went. I was at the edge of the cliff standing next to her. Looking deeply into her ice cold eyes. “Let’s get this over with. Let’s be free. We can escape this. Never live in fear. On the count of three.” She told me. She began the count. 1… 2… And I was pulled back by someone. I saw the girl jump, I screamed for her. I screamed for her to come back. I betrayed her. Tears were streaming down my face hysterically. Carlos’ soothing words pulled me back to reality. I grabbed onto him, still sobbing. “What’s wrong Adlyne? What happened?” he asked concerned. “S-she jumped. She’d-died. I let her die. It’s my fault.” I cried into his chest. “You didn’t do anything. You’re alright. I’m here.” He said trying to calm me down. I tightened my grip on him and whispered, “I want to go away from here. Far, far away.” I tell him. “We’ll go. We’ll go as soon as possible.” He replied. We went back to our rented house and stayed there for another week. Before we flew back to Seattle. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t forget the girl near the Pearl River Delta. I remembered her freezing stare and her distressed smile. I could never forget her, never forget her jumping of the cliff into the ocean as it swallowed her.

Fiction: Group 3

Blood Sea Kellett School, Clifford, Florence - 12, Fiction: Group 3

ar, far down below, the junk Eye of the Sea slid into the harbour as noiselessly as a panther, the red sails illuminated against the dark, brooding sky. Hidden in the black, rolling clouds above the sea the airship hovered, waiting to pounce. The red sails slipped on, the only ship on the deserted sea. Ahead

was the harbour, the other ships resting peacefully; it was empty of human life and the only sound was the gentle slapping of the waves against the hulls of the boats. The sky above grew dark and ominous, the clouds merging together into threatening shapes. The airship waited.

There was a slight rustling of trees. A light glimmered in the harbour. It moved, twisting and turning down the slipway until it crossed the harbour wall, almost touching the rolling, pitching ocean. The junk subtly altered its course, heading towards the light.

Another light crept along the harbour wall towards it. The captain of the junk frowned. He had not known that there would be a second signalman. It might attract too much attention.

The second light clambered along the wall and stopped. The two lights made a door, a frame for the junk to slip through, unnoticed into the harbour. The captain relaxed and altered his course once more.

Only the airship, the Enigma Drift, hovering in the clouds, knew that the captain had relaxed too soon.

The Eye of the Sea was coming closer into the harbour, and the helmsman could make out the familiar brass lions guarding the entrance. The formerly friendly faces of the lions were tense and angry, bristling with rage. He shivered. Something was not quite right.

High above the harbour, at the top of the mountain, the lights in the hotel began to turn off. Slowly, one by one, at regular intervals, so that anybody watching would not realise what was happening. The cars in the driveway began to drive away, but the driveway was hidden by the forest, and the junk did not see.

But nor did Enigma, waiting silently in the clouds. *** Cal sat at the control desk, his hand suspended above a lever. They were stalling, trying to figure

out what was going on below them. September stood behind him, watching the red sails creep closer and closer into the harbour, into

the area between the two lights. Those two swinging red paper lanterns were the only lights in the harbour; everything else was shrouded in darkness. She could just make out the guardian lions in the gloom and far away, in the distance, the city of Hong-Kong, surrounded on three sides by forest. She looked out to sea and glimpsed the rugged islands dotting the vast ocean, the moon reflected in the water, as calm as a mirror.

Neither of them noticed the snake of cars crawling down the mountain towards the harbour. *** Back in the hotel the bodies lay piled up on the ballroom floor. *** Underneath the airship’s cabin, something was encased within a dozen walls, each one stronger

than the last, but the trapdoor underneath it was flimsy and would give way at the touch of a button. A button only a few centimetres away from Cal’s hands.

The something was an unassuming glass sphere, levitating above the trapdoor. It would fit in a child’s palm, but the slightest touch would make a catastrophic explosion.

So if it was dropped from 1500 feet up in the air, the explosion when it hit the ground would be magnified a thousandfold.

*** The cars rolled silently down the hill and came to a halt outside the harbour. The drivers stepped

out, their deep purple livery almost as dark as the forest around them, guns at the ready, Scourge emblazoned on their sleeves, and they marched into the forest, calm and composed, but inside giddy with elation that Lion Base had been wiped out, and certain that the only danger they now faced was the junk with its precious cargo.

It never occurred to them that perhaps the only danger was in the sky, directly above them. ***

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Inside the base the exquisite marble tiles were stained with blood, and the silence was thick and claustrophobic.

*** The red sails slowly trundled on. The captain felt a prickle of unease as the ship neared the lights.

Leaving the helmsman in charge, he disappeared below deck. He walked down to the hold and he felt guilty at every footstep. He slowly creaked the door open and scanned the room. The cargo was the one thing that seemed perfectly fine.

As his footsteps receded down the hallway, one of the boxes rattled. *** It was Cal who noticed the cars. “Sep,” he cried, clutching her arm, “look at the forest!” September followed his gaze and saw the telltale flash of purple. “Oh no,” she whispered. “Oh no.” *** The captain of the Eye hadn’t seen the purple; nor had he seen the massacre in the hotel base; nor

had he seen the Enigma Drift. He thought that everything was perfectly fine, though he could not shake off the feeling that something was wrong. He was delivering the very latest of the Machines to the League’s Lion Base, and the lights on the wall were signalling him in. He had been sent word of only one signalman, but surely another one was just a mistake.

*** In the hotel the real signalman was dead. *** In the hold of the Eye, the Machines were beginning to come alive. Their brains were ticking

away and they began to shift, itching to get out of their six-inch thick containers. Six-inch metal was no match for the Machines and they knew it. The time had almost come. The

League would be horrified to know what their own robots were planning, but it had been foolhardy to attempt to outwit a Machine.

*** They were on the deck now; their containers were lying in shattered pieces on the floor of the

hold and their eyes glinted with the prospect of killing. The Mortals below them were scurrying about, pure terror etched on their faces. Their faces impassive, the Machines swung their claws at the Mortals, as blood spilled onto the deck like red paint and clouded the sea below. The bodies, gashed and bleeding, were tossed overboard, swept up in the waves and lost forever. The captain backed away, consumed with a cold fear that ate away at his heart. As the Machines turned towards him, he leapt off the boat and the blood-drenched sea tossed him onto the rocks, his final cry ricocheting around the secluded bay, as the Machines, gloating, swung the boat around.

A tremendous splintering crash. Metallic screams. The sheathing of claws. Cal and September raced outside and below them they saw the Eye, torn apart by the shark-like jaws of the rocks. The planks fell apart, ripped in two, and the metal containers of the machines fell with a clang into the ocean below.

September gasped. She was so used to death she was not frightened of it, but the sight of the Machines made her suddenly feel cold, despite the suffocating tropical heat.

Nine-foot-tall robots, their spidery legs whirring menacingly, swam to the shore. They gripped the rocks and climbed up the wall; snatching the terrified lights and snapping the sentries’ necks; marching into the forest, up the hill, into the Scourge: hundreds of robots on a killing spree.

September and Cal didn’t hesitate. Instantly the airship’s engines kicked in and it whirred away, speeding towards the forest. The spidery Machines charged, overpowering the Scourge, and soon a vicious battle was underway.

The Enigma Drift hung above them. Inside the cabin Cal felt his bravery draining away, but September stood upright, her hand hovering over the fateful button.

She turned to face him. “Ready?” she whispered. Neither the Machines nor the Scourge soldiers noticed the airship sweeping over them until it was

too late. *** Far away, the lights of Hong-Kong were beginning to come on, and the sky was turning to a

dusky grey. As the people began to wake up and the city came alive again, a tiny glass orb fell from an

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airship cloaked in clouds, a thunderous roar echoed around the archipelago and a volcano of sparks and flames erupted from the forest in the distance. Liquid fire flowed down the hill, reaching out with burning fingers and grabbing trees, turning them to ashes, and the Machines and Scourge soldiers, mangled and contorted by the flames, screamed in horror, one last time.

But the Enigma Drift had escaped unscathed, and September and Cal were floating away, rising high into the air, as the inferno blazed beneath them, swallowing tree and soldier and Machine alike.

Light flooded into the sky and the windows of the airship, and underneath them they could see the Pearl River Delta, its waters shimmering and iridescent, stretching away into eternity, and they watched until the city was hidden by the clouds.

Fiction: Group 3

Typewriters with iPhones King George V School, Qi, Sophie - 14, Fiction: Group 3

uddy “Bubs” Blackshaw took one last crude selfie before he shut down his phone and boarded the airplane. He was going to watch a few romance films, get to Zhu Hai and hit the “pool partay” in the new neon green swimming trunks he acquired through a shade game of blackjack last week

from Vegas. Bubs was on a cultural rediscovery, which in English means going across the world with the support of his parents while also ignoring all pending papers for college. Luckily for him, his parents were eager to provide him with financial aid, mainly because of his mother’s transparent biased opinion towards her home town. After all, it wasn’t every day that his son had decided to acknowledge half of his origins. And with that in mind, Bubs settled down to watch the Titanic for the 36th time, ignoring the lady with too much lipstick next to him. *** I was born in the urban outskirts of South Asia, where I spent afternoons embracing my inner agricultural heritage. By the age of 19, I was all but ready to move out. To not see the Made in Hong Kong logo from my pen pal in America. “Hey you with glasses could you get me some of the green stuff?” A random customer said, winking. Well at least I think he was winking. His eye patch made it difficult to tell. “Sorry we don’t do trade with animals” I retorted, forgetting temporarily that my job was on the line. (It was a miracle I was still here in the first place- It takes severe patience not to shove boiled water to sunken middle aged men who were convinced that the tea house was secretly a drug house.) Life Lesson: If anyone looks as if they are high on something evacuate to a one mile premise. *** Arriving off the airport, Bubs took a careful sweep to make sure that there were no dulled out drug addicts. To his surprise, there was exactly none in sight. Strange. From the tales that his mother had woven, it was as if the whole place was nothing but damaged souls. Shrugging, he followed the neon signs to collect his 15 bags, 14 of which contained enough clothes to dress half of Australia. *** But it wasn’t as if Zhu Hai was a complete drug dump. Those who had not succumbed to alcohol formed a tight knit community. They say it’s impossible to walk a yard down the river. Not because of human traffic, but because every once in a while you would be stopped by a Jane or Grace who wanted to ask how you were doing, or if Mary was still sick. The area may have been conquered with tall high rises and factory smoke, but the people like family. In a way, China was like that. You could go to the most foreign countries of Brazil and London and still be greeted into loving arms by fellow Chinese. *** Buddy strolled out of the airport with a considerable amount of razzle dazzle. “Excuse me, do you happen to know where the nearest taxi stand is?” “Sorry, can you tell me which direction is this hotel?” “Do you know if there is a currency exchange area?” But tragically, Buddy’s simple demands were greeted with either the awkward mumblings or cold silence. Thanks mom. Thought Buddy, glaring at a nearby trashcan. Which was rather rude, because the poor trash can did nothing. His mother had, on several nostalgic occasions described Zhu Hai as a large family. (Or when she was particularly tipsy a “giant steaming pot of dumplings”) But to his puzzlement, reliable statistics confirmed that 100% of people had refused to stop to help, let alone a few words of pleasantries. Perhaps they were cautious around outsiders. Or perhaps as the years flew by, time to stop and gather daisies were replaced by the busy shuffle between work and home. Perhaps the cost of 5 star buildings was a city’s spirit. *** Okay, I’ll admit a secret. Growing up, I was embarrassingly devoted to architecture. In my village, there wasn’t much. We had survived most of the bombing during the war, but that didn’t mean our village was the highlight of anything. A few years later, the big “Boom” happened. Suddenly, factories were popping up left and right.

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But that wasn’t the highlight of anything. These huge grey blocks imprisoned the men 12 hours a day, and left tonnes of wastage into the waterway. Growing up, I had this childish idea that I could somehow change the area into a rich tourist idea with top-of-the-line infrastructure and holiday houses. Silly, right? *** Buddy’s jaw dropped in awe as he glanced at the giant dolphin display that swam amongst the turquoise wavelets. Shiny beads hung from the breath of the dolphin, and he could swear he saw one of them move. Holy Mother of Doughnuts this place was beautiful. With renewed spirit, he turned to the checking line… Only to see the largest line of adults, waiting for the next available arrival station. From here, you are 1 hour away from check in! The cheerful read. Sighing, he joined the line with a face long enough to stretch across the entire terrain of the Great Wall of China. But his wasn’t down 6 hours later, when he sat with eyes wider than saucers. He watched with wonder and shock as one tight rope walker stood on top of another tight rope walker, which stood on top of another tight rope walker, which stood on top of a tight rope. Then they all collectively turned around and did backflips. He gasped with more enthusiasm than a child when he saw acrobats bent their body as if they did not understand the concept of bones. Then they lifted each other off the floor with only their big thumbs, swung each other around by the tips of their shoulders. He cheered until his throat became hoarse at the silk dancers, who hung a hundred meters above the ground suspended by only a piece of fabric. Then they took a leap into the air and jumped gracefully into the pool. And he would deny it later, but Buddy had never been more awe-struck. *** They say the grass is always greener on the other side. That’s probably true. Now that I’ve left Zhu Hai, all I can think of was the vibrant culture. And love. Yes, I’ve said it. You can now all go and stuff cotton in your ear now. I mean, what does some low level Chinese girl who never went elsewhere know about love? Probably nothing. However, I didn’t meet my future husband through “nothing.” I didn’t mother Buddy with the power of “nothing.” So call me Naïve, but to this day I still believe that the red strings of fate exist, even in the most insignificant countries. So who knows, the universe is always up for grabs. *** Buddy sat at the breakfast table, half snoring. Despite the hotel being very upmarket, its breakfast room was in short a wedding reception with yogurt. Perhaps that was the Pearl River Delta- It was developed in some ways, but in order to be a full-fledged dragon things like service needed to be sharpened to finesse. And with that pretentious conclusion Buddy took a step back and bit into his apple with relish. “Hey…Mind if I sit here?” Buddy looked up to see an attractive woman about his age. “Uh yeah…sure. It’s pretty hectic in here isn’t it?” “Oh definitely. My husband and I are so glad to actually have a place to sit.” The woman replied, smiling. “Ah-ha-ha! Well you and your husband can enjoy themselves. I’ll be off.” He replied awkwardly, edging away. Fate, it seems, had a remarkably mocking sense of humour.

Fiction: Group 3

The Dragon's Pearl King George V School, Tang, Timothy - 12, Fiction: Group 3

minutes ago, I walked out as an ordinary young man, 7 minutes later, I walk out as an adventurer, I needed to find the 7 parts of the dragon’s pearl jewel, I have a girlfriend living with me and it is hard to depart. My name is Colin Kam, I am a 30 year old, accompanied with only one friend who has

been with me since my first day at school: Antonio Li, now walking out of the Hong Kong airport world trade centre, I am ready to begin a new life. November 18th 2015 6:00pm “So they say that the first part of the dragon’s pearl is in Macau right?” whispered Antonio, “Yes and they say that it is located in a hotel.” “There are lots of hotels in Macau, how would you know where it would be?” Antonio whispered a bit loudly, reading a book I replied:” The dragon’s pearl was made in the Tang dynasty but lost by a Ming emperor, it was chopped up and scattered, a poor fishermen bought one the pieces and hid in a hill in Taipa and that is near the airport, another was hidden on top of a statue in Zhuhai and we have arrived!!” Antonio looked up and saw lights of the Macau outer harbour terminal, once on the pier, I saw a sinister looking figure wearing a liquorice colored coat. As the taxi pulled up right in front of the Macau airport hotel, a bellhop greeted us and barely noticed that we did not had luggage. “Rest now” I said to Antonio” Tomorrow we have to wake up early.” That night I could not sleep, not only there was flights taking off at macau airport when I slept, but I kept wondering about that sinister figure in that coat….. Waking up, I found myself on the mountain, I tried to speak but my mouth was tied with rope, a ninja in transparent clothes They were speaking in fast Portuguese but I recognised one word: Coloane, in less than a second i knew what they were going to do: Drown me off the shore of Cotai or kill me in Coloane. Heart weak, I knew my glad days were over so I fainted in horror. When I came to, I saw my friend Antonio, he smiled, then I realized where I was: ten thousand feet in the air in a helicopter over Grand Lisboa hotel. I asked:” Where are the thieves.” His smiled darkened: They got away but we escaped luckily.” Meanwhile on a beach in Coloane, the ninjas opened a sack with nothing in it, the boss wearing a coat then signalled for a private jet to come and land at his secret airfield….. An evil laughter echoed over the island. As the helicopter landed at Zhuhai’s heliport, a private car in black escorted us to a promenade, there I saw a piece of rock, no not rock my eyes blinked again, it was pearl. Pure as possible, without warning, a hook came out from the car, the pearl was caught and given to us. Eyes with tears I tried to thank the driver, he was gone in a blink, the car was gone too well most of it anyways, it was on fire. Antonio dived in the water and with no other option, I jumped into the murky waters. My eyes were murky, I was drowning, short breaths out of the water helped me survive, suddenly a leg pulled me up, no not a leg a hand, out of the water, I saw my friend once again, Antonio had survived, he smiled and said:” Amazing my friend, you have crossed the water from zhuhai to Zhongshan. I could have smiled if my body was not hurting like crazy, then I fainted on the ground tired of swimming. But my spirit was not safe, when I woke up I found out that my body was tied up to a tree, a gun was pointed at me, that hooded figure again, he laughed an evil laugh and putted the gun towards my throat. I had no choice, with no friends around I died bravely on the bark of the tree, unable to help anyone. Little that I knew I had saved the region from what had might been a disaster. 5 years later….

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Fiction: Group 3

2020 10:00pm Hong Kong The Astrid My dearest Juliana If you are reading this my spirit is now in heaven, my secret has been revealed, I have not been able to complete my quest and it is now up to you to find the last pieces of the dragon’s pearl.. From, Your dearest Colin 10 hours later, Juliana set out with a small backpack, walking out with a shudder, she boarded the bus to Zhongshan, she was no longer a normal citizen, she was a discoverer. She went up to a home where Dr. Sun Yat Sen was born, avoiding suspicious mainlanders, she collected the pearl from the roof, camouflaged it was, camouflaged. She took the last train to Guangzhou from Xiaolan station, told her friend with her, Xiao Mi :”Head back to Hong Kong, I need to do this alone.” Eyes all puffy filled with tears, Xiao Mi left on the midnight bus back to Hong Kong. Juliana made a bad choice, her stomach began to ache, there was no doctor around only a vet, luckily, the vet had a doctor friend and the doctor found out that she was pregnant and her baby was about to be born. After pulling for 4 hours, the baby was born and they named it Timothy or Tim Tim, but the doctor said that Juliana had to stay at a hospital for 20 years…. 19 years later….. 2039 June 15th, Timothy Kam set out to adventure, just like his mother and father, went to find the last 4 pieces of the dragon’s pearl, he took the first train from West Kowloon station, he saw a hooded figure and instantly pretended to be asleep, the figure shrugged his shoulders and went away. Timothy Kam went to the top of Canton Tower after he took a taxi from Guangzhou south station. He said to his friend who met him in Guangzhou: Amarpreet Wilkinson:” I might not make it, please wait for me at the bottom.” Amarpreet replied: “And if you do..” “I will go down the short way.” As on a short notice, Amarpreet went down. Riding the cable car on top of the tower, Timothy saw something shining, he picked it up but then bamm!, he thought the pearl was explosive, but he was safe only to see that one of the other cable cars was gone, no people were in it. He shuddered, just then a fireman came to rescue him. He fainted in the fireman’s arms, only not to know he was on the first bus with his friend Amarpeet to Dongguan. Once he woke, he saw he had 2 pieces of pearl in his hand, amarpreet smiled:” It was easy, no suspicious figures, found the 1st pieces in a Wal-mart supermarket, the second one was found in Shenzhen airport.” “And where is the last piece?” Timothy asked, Amarpreet said:” Hong Kong.” The name Hong Kong made Timothy warm inside, he remembered his foster aunt Trista and uncle Hogan, his foster sister Zaneta and foster brother Anders, the days they went to the beach and when they visited his mother in Zhongshan who had another baby called Kristy. As they crossed the Shenzhen Bay border checkpoint, tears fell from his eyes, tears of joy. Timothy walked around Hong Kong island, a soothsayer in Temple Street had told them the pearl was on the island, suddenly, he tripped. Amarpreet helped him up and they both saw the last piece, they then put the piece with the other pieces. A flash of light shimmered, the hooded figure who was behind them fell down to the ground and died. The pearl was whole again, not knowing what to do, they hurried to Tamar. Not knowing that Timothy’s mother was coming back to Hong Kong. 10 days later, Mother embraced son as the Chief Executive of Hong Kong was halfway through his speech, “ And the search which was started by his father who died-””Died?” said a voice in the ocean of darkness, the figure came closer, it was I who thought I had died but simply fell into a coma for a long time. I came and embraced my son and wife, all the people looked stunned, but just then the pearl shined again, giving everybody good thoughts. I took my family and friends and we headed for the exit, ready for another adventure.

Fiction: Group 3

One Night in Shenzhen

King George V School, Tsui, Angela - 13, Fiction: Group 3

rinking, drunk-driving, smoking, having unintentional sex, procrastinating (or what I like to call taking a break), taking a break from taking a break, oh, and participating in student protests. This would be an accurate summary of my years in university. It was a wonder to my professors and

myself that I even showed up in the finals exam and passed. Not that a measly third-rate journalism degree was something to be overjoyed about. I suppose beggars can’t be choosers though, since I honestly expected myself to spend the rest of my time floating around in the blurry world of pills, condoms, and empty glass bottles. Luckily, Japan seemed to be filled with university students like myself, which was perhaps why my employer didn’t bat an eye when I told him that I was one of the fervent leaders of student protests. In fact, none of my experiences really surprised him at all. I suppose that is to be expected from a man in charge of journalist firm- hundreds of new stories to hear every day. I was four months into my new job at the journalist firm when I was sent abroad to do my first overseas blog. I was supposed to be covering Shenzhen, China, which seemed alright to me at first. I arrived, did the usual tourist routine- drop by a hotel, grab notebook, camera, noise recorders, and embark on an enlightening ‘adventure’, as my employer liked to call it. Now, I wouldn’t call myself a generally homesick person, but what I really did was drop by a hotel and spend the rest of the day in a sushi bar sipping sake. Ask me anything about China on that same day and I probably would have replied with, ‘they have great sushi’. ‘Not the best start to my career abroad, but the next day wouldn’t as bad’ I promised myself. In fact, the next day truly wasn’t as bad. I managed to cover a few drafts on manufacturing and food and was able to snatch a quick interview with a burly looking shopkeeper about business in Shenzhen. “It’s not a bad place if you know how to appeal to the customers… namely women” he declared proudly, with a glint residing in his eye that presumably abhorred rather than appealed the customers. He was correct about one thing, however. The majority of the population in Shenzhen is of the female gender. It was dubbed the ‘paradise of women’ by some washed-up, sappy journalist. The flip side to it is that men from the neighboring areas of the Pearl River Delta- Hong Kong or Zhuhai- seem to be constantly on the prowl for prostitutes in Shenzhen. After a good day’s work since at least four years, I decided to treat myself in a nearby Chinese restaurant… or at least, what I thought was a restaurant. Now, despite what I claimed earlier, this faux ‘restaurant’ still had food, which was sufficient for my standards. It was only when I placed my order did matters begin to unveil… “I’ll take the deep-fried pork tongue with the prawn and egg platter.” I asked in clumsy (but understandable) mandarin. “Of course, sir.” replied the rather good-looking waitress wearing rather revealing clothing. “Your food will be sent over to private room number 5809” she added as she passed me a set of keys. Now, confusion and interest dawned within me as she said the words ‘private room’. I had no idea that restaurants in Shenzhen ever served food in private rooms for one, single customer. I was about to agree, seeing as I didn’t really mind, when the waitress suddenly asked, “By the way, sir, do you have any other particular orders for the night?” The way she said ‘particular’ made it discomfiting enough, but as I shook my head, she pressed on. “Perhaps you would like the all-deluxe special? Of course, you will have to pay extra, but we promise you a meal of great wonder and satisfaction…” I shook my head once more, feeling all the more confused. I didn’t see anything about an ‘all-deluxe special’. “Are you genuinely that dense?” the waitress finally snapped “I’m asking you which type of girl you wish to… you know…” Realization hit me harder than a brick. Of course this place wasn’t a proper restaurant. It was one of those in-the-dark-but-in-plain-sight brothels only locals knew about. I was about to awkwardly state my confession to the waitress when an idea awoke within my usually-stale mind. A hidden brothel disguised as a restaurant? This was perfect material to write about. “Of course,’ I swore to myself ‘Nothing explicit, Mashimoto. This is simply… intimate research.”

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Fiction: Group 3

I shot a quick ‘I really don’t mind’ at the waitress whilst grabbing the keys. There was a cozy little lift wrapped with sixties’ jazz and Chanel perfume going up twelve floors. I got off at the fifth floor and found the room provided for me with relative ease: 5809. And, without expecting anyone to be in there just yet, I walked straight in on two things and accomplished one myself: 1. A naked figure sprawled on a washed-down mattress

2. The naked figure seemed to be smoking from some 19th-century pipe

3. “What the hell are you smoking from that pipe?” I demanded

The naked figure simply gave a nonchalant snort and shrugged. “Opium” she drawled in a rural accent “It’s to reenact our gruesome history. Pretty attractive, huh?” She must have read the disbelief on my face pretty well to recede into a more normal tone, “Don’t worry. I’m not really taking it. I’m just pretending. But clients seem to find a helpless, pathetic woman on drugs increasingly attractive.” “Strange idea of attraction they have there.” I retorted “Well, you can’t really say anything better about yourself, right? You’re just the same as them. At the end of the day, you just want a woman, high or not, naked in your bed” This woman had cornered me into humiliation and was ready to pounce any second. ‘What should I say to her next?’ I pondered. “Ha. Not really. You see, I’m not looking for any… fun… tonight.” I began, my tongue slipping at the word ‘fun’. “I’m just here for some company- Intelligent company.” The woman barked out a diabolical laugh. “Intelligent company? Then why the devils did you come to a brothel? You’d have better luck finding someone with more of a brain in the drunken section of the pub rather than some of our girls here.” “I wouldn’t say that” I coaxed, recalling my own run-ins with a few notorious drunkards in the pubs back in Japan. “Besides, you seem like a fairly intelligent woman yourself” This seemed to silence her for a while. She didn’t seem particularly angry or whatnot- there was simply an eerie expression on her face. Finally, she spoke, “You said you wanted company right? “Yeah” I replied, propping myself on a stool next to the bed. And so, I began pouring my heart out. I began saying things I would never even have told my closest friend, never mind a lone, mysterious prostitute of another country. I told her about my rather dull childhood- if you didn’t count the suicide of my older brother. I told her about my university days where I presided as a drunk, sexual maniac. I think I slipped into Japanese a few time, but she didn’t seem to mind. It was as though she was hearing the theory of relativity for the first time. Her eyes flickered with interest and widened at the nasty parts. I finished my story with a lame vigour that matched my personality. At this point, fatigue had washed over me and my eyelids were beginning to cloud my view. I may have trailed off on a last sentence such as, “And that is exactly how one successfully braises an egg, with a dash of week-old eggplant…” As darkness engulfed all that was clear. The next morning rolled around too soon. I woke up with the upper part of my body on the bed and my legs perched on the stool. The woman was gone. I couldn’t even remember what she looked like… but a lingering scent stubbornly stayed in the room. Her pipe was still on the sheets- it was the only reminder that she had, in fact, been real- and not my own perverse delusion. I left Shenzhen the day after. My research has been sparse and fruitless but I couldn’t bear to stay there another minute. The woman’s scent chased after me no matter where I went. I boarded the plane with a sense of relief and barrenness- as though I was missing something I could never retrieve. I looked down from my window and saw the Pearl River delta glaring at me between suburban high-rise buildings. I sat there watching the river before noticing something remarkable: The murky shade resembled her lifeless, bitter eyes.

Fiction: Group 3

The Realistic Dream - Pearl River Delta, Hong Kong King's College, Yip, Ho Cheung - 13, Fiction: Group 3

hat’s up, guys? My name’s Kenny Foster. I’m 15 and I live in the USA, New Jersey. I love school and I enjoy surfing with my friends on public beaches. Riding the waves like a pro, enjoying the momentum while propelling over the sea like a dolphin. Man, I never had such

awesomeness while I’m surfing. In school, I have this weird interest in studying Chinese History. When I grow up, I’m gonna be a historian. Speaking of which, let me tell what change my whole life around, the dream to be a professional surfer to a Chinese History researcher. So anyway, the day after my 14th birthday, I told my parents, ‘I wanna go out with my buddies.’ In reply, my mom said ‘Okay, okay. Get yourself going.’ I immediately ran off to my room to fetch my surfboard. My heart was pumping: ‘This is gonna be freaking fantastic! I could surf all day!’ I was about to open the front door, when a voice boomed my parents’ room like it’s reading my thoughts, ‘And don’t forgot to cautious at anytime, you could get yourself drowned!’ Gosh! Mom is so irritating! I shouted back ‘Okay! I’ll be back in a while.’ Then the door went ‘Ka-chunk!’ It was a quarter pas two in the afternoon. The sun was shining with blazing heat, incinerating everything that came across its ‘death rays’. No clouds were seen within a mile. My four friends and me bounded and bounced off to a nearby beach. When the coast was clear, we jumped, launching ourselves like a volley of humanoid cannonballs into the soft, leathery, warm sand. Dust flew everywhere. When the dust parted away, we saw ourselves buried under the sand. We giggled and laughed till our bellies burst open. After all the banter, we finally started the main event, surfing. We all got to our surfboards. Minutes later, we’re on our boards, surfing like cowboys riding on backs of untamed mustangs. We rode the waves like there was no tomorrow. After a while, the hype inside us apparently left. We sat on the sand, bored, sunbathing. There was not much left to do. Then all of a sudden, thunder boomed, the color of the sky dimmed. In the far away distance, a line formed, just big enough to see with the naked eye. The water level dropped, revealing bits of coral and seaweed. I knew a little about oceanography, so I assumed a colossal tidal wave was coming. Now crowds of people were beginning to either take cover, or run to higher ground.

Without thinking, I grabbed my board. I ran to the sea at top speed. ‘What do you think you’re doing? Kenny!’ shrieked Greg, my best friend, ‘You’ll get yourself killed!’ I

shouted back, ‘No worries! I’ll handle this just fine.’ (Now come to think about it, my answer was pretty darn dumb.)

As my friends watched in horror, I plunged into the coast. Sure enough, the tidal wave came surging in on top of me. I mustered up all my courage, then I slammed into the wall of blue. The water current tried to bash me to bits, but I battled it, trying to hold up to the force coming from everywhere. Then the worst case happened. I choked. As I sank, fish swam around me curiously. I had the last glimpse of light filtering from above. Then my mind went blank.

Seemed like a millennia just passed by. I opened my eyes. Black spots still lingered. After a minute or so, I finally came to my senses. I sat up, dazed. Am I dead yet? Or am I in heaven? Then my eyes came to focus. I was (luckily) washed to shore. But where am I? There’s no way I was stranded on a deserted island. Way too big. I got up for a second, then instantly fell back down. I fainted once again.

This time I woke up in a different place. I found myself in an old shackled wood hut. I spied the area. Wood tables, chairs, an oven etc. A typically poor household. Then, something occurred to me, I was saved by someone! Just then, an odd old couple hobbled in. Their skin are a sort of pale-ish yellow, and their cheekbones are way higher than usual Americans. They whispered to each other in a foreign language. Somehow I managed to catch the word ‘white people’ in the conversation. Finally, the old man walked towards me, ‘We will give you a nice place to stay in. During your stay, you can help us with the crops and learn our culture.’ My heart pumped. ‘Come this way. They led me out into the opening.

It’s not just the plain old America lands. Farms were everywhere. It felt just like a miniature factory, but using humans to produce instead of machines.

‘Where am I?’ I murmured. The old woman explained, ‘This is Hong Kong. I am Mrs Zhu. And this is Mr Zhu.’ A thousand of questions instantly popped out of my head, ‘How did I end up in China? How can

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Fiction: Group 3

I get back?’ Mrs Zhu seemed to have read my thoughts, ‘One question at a time, young lad. But I’m sorry to say, you can’t get back to where you’re from.’

‘What-‘ My face went. ‘Don’t be frustrated,’ Mr Zhu chuckled, “Let’s learn how to farm while you’re still here!’ It was a blazing hot day. I never thought I would had the chance to farm. Due to the harsh conditions,

it was surely a challenging test. We worked, ploughed and worked all day. Finally, after 7:00 p.m, the job was done! Yesiree!

I laid on the floor, exhausted and out of breath, yet with satisfaction. Mr Zhu walked in, ‘Well, young lad. You’ve done a fine job. Tomorrow’s a big day. I’ll wake you up at five. Sleep well.’ He then went to his room. ‘What the-‘ The door slammed shut. I said to myself, ‘Well, guess I’ll dwell in this grim place forever. Sweet dreams, myself.’ After that, all I remembered was seeing myself drifting to sleep.

Another day on the farm. Mr Zhu came to the living room. (where I slept last night.) ‘We’ll be off after breakfast.’ He said. I stood up groggily. As I sat down, I saw Mrs Zhu bringing the breakfast out on the dining table. Bacon, steamed buns, fried egg… It was a totally diverse set of meal.

It’s already been exactly a day ever since my arrival. Tonight was a special one, Mr Zhu said the inspection team from the World

Farming Federation had arrived in the village this morning. They praised our crops were the best in the area. So, to celebrate this eventful occasion, we decided to have a big feast.

‘Dinnertime!’ Mrs Zhu announced. I quickly scrambled to my seat. My mouth was watering. I half-expected a big fat plump turkey steaming out of the kitchen. But surprisingly, she brought out a bowl of food. I gaped stared at the prawns. Mrs Zhu noticed my astonished look, ‘Oh, Kenny. This is a Poon Choi, originated from the Sung Dynasty. In the your language, that means “a bowl of food”.’

I thought, ‘Literally. Alright…’ Just then, the crowd in the house yelled, ‘Time to dig in!’ We gobbled and munched up the piled

stack of chicken and seafood. The feast finally came to an end, I felt a little way too full. I then asked the Zhu family whether I

can go take a little evening walk along the river. They agreed. I walked along the river bank. As the river snaked its way toward the open sea, the surface

reflected the starry night sky. It acted more lively than usual. I was remembering about my past, when I tripped over a pebble. I fell face-first into the river. The water started to swirl around me. When I knew it, I shot into a funnel.

I woke up, yet again. Now I saw my four friends. I inspected the surroundings. A TV, life-saving rings and a first-aid box. That would be the fishing hut near the beach. (Finally! No weird-looking farm and odd Chinese couples!) A voice shrieked beside my ear, ‘You’re okay!’ I chided glumly, ‘Yeah…’

We sat around the TV. I told them my story. (Actually, it was a dream after all!) And of course, no one believed in me. I was about to give up, and that’s how miracles happen. The TV showed a news flash: ‘Mr Zhu from Hong Kong just won the annual farming competition.’

My friends just basically stared at me, their mouths wide open, like ‘How the heck did that happen?’ or something along those lines.

I chuckled, ‘this ain’t just a coincidence, my friends.’

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Korean International School Secondary Section, Bezanilla-Reyes, Maria - 14,

Fiction: Group 3

his is where your father died, boy,” the lips belonging to the most beautiful face barely moved when the woman said this. “And this is where he was buried.” The boy was having a really hard time concentrating, the woman’s face was so close to

his, he was so focused on it, and he was not paying much attention to what she was saying. “Would you like to meet your father, boy?” she asked as she slowly extended her hand for him to take it. “Yes.” It came out as a rough whisper. “Then,” she stood up and beckoned for him to do the same, “Follow me.” She finished in a whisper. The boy slowly extended his hand towards hers, but right before their hands touched, a loud voice woke him from his sleep. “Boy!” His aunt’s voice came from what he could only assume as the kitchen. “It’s your turn to do the dishes. You were late for breakfast, so, too bad. You’ll do your duties wishing you could have woken up earlier to eat something.” The boy only grunted in return. He sat up and immediately wished he hadn’t. Everything was out of focus and spinning. His head hurt badly and he was aching all over. But none of that mattered to him. He had been really bothered by that dream. He had never dreamt anything like it before. Not even close... He sat there on his cot for a few more seconds before slowly standing up and going over to his pile of clothes. He picked out a pair of trousers and an old shirt that had once belonged to his older cousin. Quickly taking off his pyjamas, he put on the clean clothes and made his way to the kitchen. “Make sure you get enough water for the rest of the day and for tomorrow!” his aunt called at his retreating figure after thirteen hours of labour. “Yeah,” he called back. “I know how it works.” He muttered to himself. Because his aunt’s house was located more in the centre of the village, walking to the river was the last thing anyone would volunteer on doing. Plus, every place close to the river was eerie. None of the boys liked to stay there for long. While he walked in the direction of the river, he thought about the dream he had had hours ago. He didn’t know whether to trust what the woman had said to him. Had his father really died and been buried in the same river? Who could give him the answers to that? Whenever he asked his aunt about his parents, she would just start scolding him for not having done one of his duties, even if he had already done it. He was so lost deep within his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed a bunch of the older kids were already there, most definitely ready to throw him into the river again. “Oh, hello, boy,” the oldest of them all said mockingly. The boy just started moving along the riverside to the left, trying to get away from them, but it wasn’t that easy. They just followed him. “Would you like me to tell your aunt that you were being rude again?” the oldest asked while the others snickered. They were remembering the last incident in which the boy had completely ignored them. The boy knew that it was dangerous to mess with these boys, but he was tired of being laughed at because he didn’t have a real name. And of course, because he was the youngest of all the boys in the village, ‘only eleven’, they would tease him. But still, he gave it a shot. “Oh, sorry. I hadn’t heard you,” he said as innocently as possible. “Hello there.” He even put on a fake smile. The boy knew he shouldn’t have, but, who cares? This could be his last night on this forsaken earth. “You want to be thrown into the river again, don’t you?” asked the oldest, again. It seemed to the boy that the oldest was the only one who could talk, while the others only laughed. “No, thanks,” the boy replied, his fake smile still smeared across his face. “I already had a shower.” As good as it felt to finally talk to them like this, the boy knew he had just planned his own death. On the same spot as his dad, ironically. The oldest gave him a smile before nodding to the next two eldest, who, in seconds, had already thrown the boy into the river.

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Fiction: Group 3

The boy wasn’t scared of getting wet. It was a regular event he had gotten used to. But after the dream, it had him bolt out of the water before any of the boys could push him back in, and, ignoring the laughter behind him and the coldness of the night, he ran along the riverside as fast as he could in his damp clothes. He could hear running footsteps behind him and then someone calling, “Leave him! He’ll either get lost or come back tomorrow for more!” Still, he kept running. The boy ran until his lungs, back and legs hurt so much, he could barely move. He collapsed into the base of a large tree along the river. He stared at the water for a long time trying to catch his breath, putting his thoughts together. What in the world had made him run away like that? He rested his back against the trunk and closed his eyes. Not a minute passed before he heard the same voice from his dream. At first, he thought he was dreaming again, but he opened his eyes. Then, he saw the woman standing right in front of him, her beautiful face shining brightly under the moonlight. “Would you like to see your father now, boy?” she asked, her voice making it hard for the boy to concentrate properly. He was, however, awake enough to respond. “Who are you?” he managed to ask without stuttering. The woman certainly looked taken aback, but she composed herself fast enough. “That is not a matter of importance now, boy.” Her tone was serious. Even her smile had faded. “Now... Answer. Do you want to see your father or not?” It took a lot of effort, but he still managed it. “Not…until you…tell me…who you….are…” his face scrunched up with effort with every word he said. “Why so arrogant, boy?” she asked, frowning. “Your mother said that if raised by his aunt, there is no way he will be arrogant at all. I guess she was wrong.” The boy was really confused now. At least he could think properly. It was as if the woman had been holding on to his consciousness and prevented him from thinking or speaking the normal way. It felt as though she had finally released him. “I am never wrong.” A cold voice coming from behind the thick tree stated angrily. “I would have thought you would have learnt by now to not dare say I am wrong.” The woman in front of the boy turned pale as snow. “Now, is this the boy?” The woman nodded eagerly towards the direction in which the voice was coming from. “Yes, it’s him. He fits the description of his father.” There was a slightly long silence, followed by the cold voice, “Does he, now?” there was a trace of disappointment mixed with eagerness, almost like she had been waiting to see the same face for years. There were footsteps and in a moment, there were two women bending over the boy, clearly trying to get a better look. “He certainly does,” said the cold voice. “Do you have a name, boy?” “No,” he responded. “I do not. My mother or father never named me, and my aunt didn’t bother to.” “Yes. It is him,” stated the cold voice. “Well then, boy, I am your mother.” “How are you alive?” the boy asked, shocked. “And what happened to my father?” “Oh, I never died,” she answered as a matter of fact. “Your father didn’t only die. He was killed.” “Killed? By who?” Mother smiled cruelly. “By me. And you have received the same fate as your father.” “You’re going to kill me?” the boy asked, still confused. “What for?” “Oh, I’ve always hated your father for doing what he did to me. But killing him didn’t leave me content enough. I will feed you to the water spirits. Just as I did with your father eleven years ago.” She smiled coldly one last time before doing the promised. If you had been close to the river, you would have heard the screams of the boy without a name late into the night.

Fiction: Group 3

Pearl Korean International School Secondary Section, Caves, Beth - 12, Fiction: Group 3

ang! Bang! Bang! Pearl woke to the sound of construction. “Oh no, not again!” she exclaimed. For the past month there had been dreadful noises from dawn till dusk. She had realised it must be the construction of the Hong Kong-Zhuhai-Macau-Bridge, which she was told about by her friend

Paul. “Pearl, it’s time to go to school,” called her mum. She got out of bed and went into the kitchen to get breakfast. She ate up her fish cake and made her tuna sandwich to take to school. Pearl grabbed her lunch and school bag, then swam out the door. She saw Paul waiting outside his house and sped towards him. Paul saw her coming and waved “Hey Pearl, quick, otherwise we’ll be late for the special announcement today.” They swam as fast as they could to school and were sliding into their seats just as the bell rang. “Good morning sea creatures,” said a cheerful Mr. Squid, waving his tentacles. He took the attendance and then called for attention. “Now students, as you all know, work has been started on the Hong Kong-Zhuhai-Macau-Bridge. This means there are a lot more big boats and pollution, and you also need to be careful of falling debris from the bridge.” The students looked at each other in horror. Mr Squid continued “This could mean that the school will decide to close or your parents will say that you have to move away from the Pearl River Delta, to get away from the construction.” Then the bell to signal the end of form room rang and the class left the room. “Well,” sighed Paul, “I was hoping for a happier announcement, not one telling us that we might have to move!” They swam down the hallway in silence until they reached Pearl’s classroom. Pearl waved goodbye to Paul and went into the classroom. For the rest of the day, Pearl thought about what Mr. Squid had said and when she got home told her mum about it. She went to bed knowing that there was nothing she could do except wait and see what would happen. But the next day she was awoken by her mum calling her name. Pearl swam downstairs to the living room and found her mum lying on the sofa watching the news. “Look, Pearl!” her mum said as she gestured with her flipper for Pearl to sit down. The news said that a ferry going from Hong Kong to Macau had crashed into the construction of the bridge and was at risk of sinking. Pearl was about to say “I hope no one was hurt!” but was interrupted by the next news announcement. “Ocean World: Due to the danger the ferry is causing, school is cancelled till further notice. Please stay at home and out of danger.” ‘Yippee, now I can go back to sleep for longer’ thought Pearl, jumping up from the sofa and swimming up to her room. There was no school for days, so Pearl spent her days playing at home, calling Paul and watching TV. Each day she watched the news to see if there were any updates on the ferry crash, but there weren’t. One week later, on Sunday, Pearl sat down as usual and turned on the news. To her delight, there was an update on the crash. She listened intently as the reporter started talking. “Ocean World: Human authorities have decided to halt the construction of the bridge until next year so the ferry can be removed out of the water. So schools are open again and life will be back to normal. Thank you.” Pearl immediately swam as fast as she could to Paul’s house and they both jumped up and down with joy. They were so glad that sea life would be happy and that their pod of Chinese white dolphins could live peacefully in the future.

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Fiction: Group 3

A Day at the Delta Korean International School Secondary Section, Jancosko-King, Jadealyn - 12,

Fiction: Group 3

y name is Victoria Wei. I come from Guan Dong. My father enjoys going fishing he goes every weekend. When I was little I would ask my father if he would take me fishing with him. It just sounded like so much fun to relax as the water slowly bobbed us up and down and up and

down. My father however would always say with a smile on his face, “No Vicky, not today if you fell out of the boat you would drown as you do not yet no how to swim.” I would always laugh and say “silly papa you would rescue me if I fell out of the boat!” He always laughed and shook his head saying “I would try to rescue you but what if I were to late? I could never forgive myself if something happened to you.” Then he would go out the door and I would be left standing there thinking about how much fun it would be if he would just give me a chance and take me fishing. Finally I guess I annoyed him to much because one day when I was 6 years old, we had our normal conversation about this and at the end of it he shouted “Alright! Fine! I will take you fishing on your 12th birthday by then you would have learned how to swim fairly well! Just please stop asking me!” I smiled and gave him a huge and promised I would never ask again only give slight reminders. He sighed and went out the door leaving me to think about what it would be like when I was 12 years old sitting on the boat with my dad telling jokes as the waves bobbed us up and down up and down. “Hrraaaahhhhh…” I yawned when I woke up on my 12 birthday. I got out of bed still feeling extremely sleepy. In the back of my mind I knew I was supposed to be excited about something but what… All through breakfast I thought and thought and thought. Then I remembered! “I’m going fishing!” I shouted. My mom and dad looked up and stared at me like I was crazy then they started laughing. “What’s so funny?” I asked. They shook their heads and my mom said “Well we’ve never seen a girl so excited about going fishing.” I looked at them like they were crazy and was about to tell them that I was not just a girl I was the awesome one but my dad interrupted me by saying “Well if we’re going to go fishing you’ll have to get dressed into something somewhat warm.” I smiled and nodded I ran upstairs singing 1-2-3-4-5 once I caught a fish alive. I put on my jeans and a T-shirt and a jacket and ran downstairs. My dad was dressed and waiting for me. We left after saying goodbye to mother who told us to be safe. I asked my dad a million times where we were going but he wouldn’t tell me. Instead he decided to go over the rules of fishing as we hiked to our destination. Finally I saw a sign ‘Pearl River Delta this way’. I nearly shouted I finally new where we were going and was jumping up and down (in my head) with joy! When we finally got there my dad showed me his boat. It was magnificent! It was white with stars that my dad must have painted on it. I mean sure it was no yacht just a small wooden boat but to me it was absolutely perfect. We got in and started moving out into the water I laid down and looked at the sky everything was perfect. My dad was telling me something but it was drowned out by the sound of the water and the hum of the boats motor. We were going out further into the delta and I decided it would be fun to sit on the back of the boat so I could see more of the front then my dad (who was crouching down) could. I got up and sat on the back gripping the slippery edges tightly and watched as my dad brought me closer to fishing for the first time. When suddenly there was a bump! A big one. Then there was another bump in the water making our little boat go really high and then fall back down with a jerk. I was starting to get a bad feeling about sitting on the back but I was having so much fun I ignored it. Suddenly I saw a huge wave coming toward us I sat and waited for it to hit the boat. I was squeezing the sides of the boat so hard my knuckles where turning white. I closed my eyes and counted silently in my head. 1… 2… 3… 4.. I felt the force push me back I felt around for the sides of the boat but there were none I opened my eyes and felt a stinging sensation. I closed them again quickly and gasped for breath but only inhaled a sickly tasting liquid which I quickly spit out. Then it hit me I was under water. I quickly kicked my shoes off and swam to the surface. I breathed in and opened my eyes, I looked around for my dad but he was no where to be found I decided it would do me no good just floating here so I went to the nearest bank and got on it. I sat down and tried to think. I must have been knocked of the

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boat by the force of the wave. I sat thinking how stupid I was then realized I had no idea what happened to my dad. I thought about whether or not he had been knocked of the boat. Did he survive? What if doesn’t know I’m gone? What happens now? Then I cried I cried about my stupidity, I cried about my dad, I cried about how hungry and thirsty and scared I was. That is what I did for what seemed like 10 minutes straight. I heard a voice almost like it was sobbing “Vickkkkkkkkyyyyyyyy!” it called I looked around and saw a boat. A small white wooden boat with stars painted on it. I gasped. “Dad!!!” I shouted I saw him turn around and start moving the boat toward me. I was so happy I swam out to meet him. When I got in the boat he shouted at me “Victoria Wei how could you be so stupid sitting on the boat like that! I didn’t notice till the last moment! By then it was to late the current was pushing you back and my boat was still going forward1 why did y-!” “DAD!” I shouted “Im fine and that’s all that matters right?!” I saw the red in his face drain away as he said “Yes Im sorry I was just so worried about you” We went back to shore and went home. My mother scolded us both for being so dumb but I tried fishing again the next month. I will always remember this story as it is the first and last time I ever did so something so unbelievably stupid!

Fiction: Group 3

Ai Korean International School Secondary Section, Lee, Michelle - 12, Fiction: Group 3

m dreaming of a life I will never have.” She says. A girl, who knew how to give love without hesitation and without limitations to the ones who

did not deserve her time and patience, and yet she still gives freely because people always spoke of unconditional love, the same ones who would turn their backs in a blink of an eye to the foreign kind of love she offered. Her name was Ai. Ai was a young beautiful Chinese women, who was covered with flames of passion and despair at the same time. Ai was always alone, for her so called friends learned that the joyful girl took off her mask and there was nothing but a black shadow that always lingered behind her shell of emptiness. Ai sat down near the stunning Pearl River Delta. It was 17:40 pm and she was sitting there, all by herself. Ai always loved watching the moon, for the comforting glow of the moon was enough to fill the wound so deep, it reached the core of her heart. She stayed there, tears slowly streaming down her flawless face, the loneliness she felt every day, and the words regret plastered all over her body always bothered her. For there was no peace for Ai, she waited until sunrise. She took the time to review her past relationships and none of them gave her a clear answer of the same hole she keeps falling into. Then, it was time. She stood up, walking towards the Pearl River Delta, closer and closer she was every second. As she stared down at the reflection of her face, her messy black hair and swollen red eyes, she turned back and looked at the place she once called ‘home’. She allowed herself to fall down, into the depths of the Pearl River Delta. Ai was drowning. Her arms and wrists full of cuts and dried blood started to bleed once again. She finally felt at peace, closing her eyes for the last time. She finally allowed herself to forgive herself.

I’

Fiction: Group 3

The Defender of the Pearl Korean International School Secondary Section, Mohm, Presley - 14, Fiction: Group 3

s I lay there on the concrete, I was debating if running away from home was a good idea. If I stayed there, my father in a drunken rage would have beaten me with his clenched fists while he screamed in rage of how I was a pathetic and useless dog. It's been going on since my

mother past away. Like clockwork, every Friday he would come home wasted and starts bashing his knuckles into my slender body. One time I tried to lock my door and hide from him but when he opened the door with the master keys he was fuming and smashed a beer bottle onto my skull, knocking me unconscious. The next morning, I began devising a plan to run away and I did. I never said anything to anyone because everyone wouldn't believe me; he's kind, nice and charismatic every day except Fridays. I would've left him earlier if I didn't feel sorry for him about mum. When I run away, I will have ended all ties with him; he will never let me into the apartment again. I'll have to live the rest of my life without his help. Since I'm only 13, the only way I can get money is from begging, so most likely I would die of starvation...

I have nowhere to go, no one to help me. I will become one with the streets. I stood up and grabbed my backpack which contained a sandwich, a lighter, a letter knife and my piggy bank which contains about fifty dollars. I slept under a bridge at the flood plain of a drainage channel. Sleeping on hard ground that sloped down towards the right was not at all comfortable but I knew that if a slept out in the open I might get harassed. The next morning, I brush myself off and check my pockets to see if I still have my wallet which contains a hundred dollars. Just as I started to climb over the fence to the pavement, a voice called from behind me. 'Hey boy! You don't seem to be in good shape,' a scruffy voice shouts, 'I can help you out if you help me out.' I turn to see Chinese man in a trench coat and a bowler hat. He has a scar that stretches from his left eyebrow to his cheek. He looks to be in his thirties and mildly strong like he's been going to the gym regularly. Next to him floating on the dirty water was a traditional Chinese row boat. He and the boat seemed to have materialized from thin air when I was looking the other way. 'Keep going.' I was intrigued. If my plan is to work, I would need all the help I could get. 'I'm on a treasure hunt. I'm looking for a valuable pearl that is located in a cemetery in Guangzhou. It's been abandoned so it is technically not stealing. I need your help to get the treasure. I discovered the last time tried that one person can't do it alone. When we find the treasure, I will pay you as much money as you want me to. Then I will deliver you back here and I will leave you. We will never cross paths again.' This seems fishy but the money would be really good. If I don't take the offer I might just starve to death. 'Fine I'll help. I think you are a trustworthy bloke. Why didn't you get it last time? What was the problem' An awkward silence ensued. 'It don't matter boy. You'll see soon enough anyway. Get in the row boat, we're leaving right away.' 'How are we going to get there, you going to row us all the way there?' 'Just shut up and get in the boat.'

I walk towards the boat. The wood of the boat is in mint condition; the black paint that covers most of the boat looks freshly painted in black, the crimson designs which decorates the hull is bright red. I step into it and the man follows. 'Close your eyes, and make sure they do not open them until I tell you to,' he demanded. I close my eyes and press my palms to my eye sockets. I hear a swish of water and felt a light breeze. 'Open your eyes now and don't go asking any questions.' I open my eyes to a completely different setting. The boat is now on a large river, the width of 30km and the length of it is longer by a hundred times. The river has many twists and turns; one side of the

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river there are multiple business buildings and malls with various people walking alongside the promenade. On the other side of the river is a wall of green trees which slightly hide what looks like a flat grassland. The man rowed the boat towards the lush green wall. 'Welcome to Guangzhou, we are currently travelling along the Pearl River. Remember no questions.' 'Understood. What's your name?' I smirked. 'Keng. That was a question but I'll let that slide. What's yours?' 'Ho Man.' I sat on the boat in silence while he rowed the boat towards land. We got off and I followed Keng through the trees and unto the green grass. There were little stone slabs flat on the ground which had writing on them. I realized this was a cemetery. He led me to a specific slab and stepped on it. The ground shook a little and then grass started falling down beneath itself, which revealed a stairwell in the ground. Keng walked down the stairwell and snapped his fingers which meant that I was to follow. Apprehensive, I followed him down. There was no other source of light except for the hole up top. The stairwell led to a pair of iron doors with traditional Chinese dragons carved into it. He looked at me, nodded, and then opened the door. In a split second, fire was blown towards Keng and me. I launched myself onto the right wall as he dashed to the left. The fire stopped after a gruelling 10 seconds. Keng grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt and threw me into the room. I stumbled and fell face down. When I looked up I nearly wet my pants. I saw something I couldn't comprehend. It had a set of large, eyes with green irises and bulging black pupils. It's snout about four feet long. Its body shared the shape of a giant snake's with the exception of two pairs of legs and the catastrophic claws of a chicken. It had a tale which had an orange fan shaped in a piece of skin. Its teeth were the size of my upper body. The whole creature was covered in golden scales. The dragon was terrifically terrifying. The dragon instinctively opened its mouth and I dove to my left. The flames missed me by an inch. That was too close. I bolted for the iron door but it slammed itself shut. Great, I ran alongside the left wall as red hot flames followed me. Of course Keng would not be here to help me out. I ran behind the dragon where it cannot spit its fire at me. Its tail swung at me at a dangerous speed and I ducked just quick enough to miss it. I need to find a way to kill this thing quick. It made an attempt to bat me again. This time I waited for it to hit my body; I hugged it with my arms and climbed onto the dragon's back. When I made it onto its neck I grabbed held on for dear life as the dragon tried to shake me off. I reached into my bag and grasped my letter knife; I uncapped it with my mouth and then drove the knife deep in its neck. The blade shattered. The dragon arched its neck upwards and spewed fire at the ceiling, the fire was reflected back onto me. The fired stroked my skin and I cried out in pain. In a fit of rage, I reached for the dragon's nostrils with one hand then used my other to stab the dragon in the eye with my broken knife. The dragon lowered its neck onto the ground, quickly making a huge thump. I rolled off the dragon and used my right hand to stab its other eye with my blade. Crimson blood leaked out of the two holes made in its eyeballs. It took four or five more deep breaths and then stopped breathing altogether. 'I'm surprised you survive Ho Man,' Kang said slyly. I wanted to kill him. He thought that leaving me, alone, to kill a dragon was a good idea. 'Did you get the pearl then?' 'Yes.’ I clenched my jaw. 'Let's go then.' As I walk through the now opened iron gates, I gripped the broken knife, using all my strength to stop myself from stabbing Kang.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Korean International School Secondary Section, Teo, Ephraim - 14, Fiction: Group 3

i! I am Lee Jong Suk, the famous Korean actor. I am pretty sure that you have watched the Korean dramas I was in. Don’t tell that you have never watched “Doctor Stranger” or “Pinocchio” before! If you didn’t, I think I am going to faint or have a heart attack. Please watch

it now, or my heart will be ripped into a million pieces to be scattered into the Pacific Ocean. A tad sensitive? Of course. I am a sensitive actor! Anyway, forget that because in the next 30 minutes of your life, you will feel shocked, amazed and surprised. It all started 2 weeks ago when my boss offered me to shoot a new drama with Park Shin Hye. Of course I accepted the job because Park Shin Hye is one of the most famous actresses in the drama industry but I had no idea that we had to fly to China to film the episodes. So I was very mad when my agent woke me up at 5 am in the morning to catch the flight and let me tell you this, I look like a monster when I do not put make up on. I am sure everyone I saw that day had nightmares when they were sleeping. I arrived in Hong Kong at around 10am, and I was greeted by thousands of fans! The whole airport was fully crowded and I had to squeeze through them to escape. But, it was useless and I was stuck there for hours. Finally, my agent decided to do something useful and she called some guy to fly a helicopter here. When the helicopter arrived, they threw down a rope and I grabbed it. Then freedom was finally mine. So for the past few weeks I had filming in different locations along the Pearl River Delta. The Pearl River Delta is an economic region located in southern China. It has many industries and factories located in this region. 4 weeks had already past and we only had to film the last episode where me Park Shin Hye and I kiss. That might have sounded easy but it’s not when you have to kiss on a boat that wobbles every 2 seconds. We stayed on the boat for five hours and we still couldn’t finish the scene; taking the job was a total a mistake. Things started to get worse. Suddenly, two boats appeared out of nowhere and masked men jumped onto our boat. They tied all of us up and blinded us with garbage bags. Then I fainted… When I woke up, I found myself in some sort of warehouse. I also saw a few masked man talking. Then, the door slowly opened and I knew it was the end of the world for me. A man that looked familiar appeared. I sensed some dark energy and evil in him. An air of melancholy surrounded his body. I realised he was the Mexican cartel that had been pursued by the FBI. “Are you Lee Jong Suk?” asked the man.

“Yes. Yes I am.” I replied. “I will give two choices; either you give me your bank account number and password so I can buy

the drugs from Mr. Fuk or I will slowly torture you.” “ I choose not to choose.” “Then suffer the pain.”

Suddenly, Park Shin Hye untied herself and performed a three sixty spin kick, knocking down all the masked man. Only the leader was left standing. Park Shin Hye dashed towards him and ferociously kicked his forehead, causing him to have some kind of seizure. I remembered, Park Shin Hye has a black belt in Tai Kwon Do! I thanked her and we freed the rest of the crew. We skedaddled to our boats and sailed back to Korea.

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Fiction: Group 3

Mad Hood Kwun Tong Maryknoll College, Yuen, Fung Man Michael - 16, Fiction: Group 3

once heard a story on the Pearl River Delta a long, long time ago, one that has intrigued me to this day. When I heard about the story, I knew it as “The Edgar Madness”, now it is commonly known as “Mad Hood”. The first sentence of the story was “Based on a true story”. I immediately thought that it

was going to be a horror/mystery story and I was spot on. After hearing about the story, I thought that it was impossible that the story was true. The story begins with a man called Rany Wayhood. He was half-American and half-Chinese who was sick of his job and wanted to have a vacation. He took his paid vacation of 7 days and thought of a place to go. “Why should I go somewhere exotic when I have somewhere I can relax right in my backyard?” He asked his wife if she wanted to go with him on the vacation but she could not go because of work. Wayhood took a train to Guangzhou, checked in at a motel and slept for the rest day. The next day, Wayhood decided to have some fun and partied hard with strangers in a club at night. He blacked out and he woke up the next morning. He did not know where he was except for the fact that he was next to a river. The club that he partied in was nowhere in sight. Wayhood walked down river and did not find any sign of civilization. He had walked for so long that he started to regret taking a vacation. Then, he found a hole in the ground. The hole looked man-made so he thought he would finally find his way back home. He looked down the hole and was surprised to see a cow in it. As he loved animals very much, he could not believe that someone could do such a thing so he helped the cow get out of the hole. The cow followed Wayhood and somehow it gave him strength to carry on walking. Wayhood named the cow Edgar as he started to grow fond of him. Wayhood did not eat for the past 7 hours straight so he decided to take shelter by the river. He left Edgar by the river to gather some resources, believing that he would not leave him. After Wayhood left, Edgar tried and dig a hole. Edgar loved to stay inside holes, he thought that it could give him protection and used it as a place to recharge his batteries. While gathering resources to start a fire, Wayhood noticed some lights flickering in the distance. He immediately ran back to Edgar. Upon arriving at the lights, Wayhood started to wonder why Edgar started to follow him. “Does he worship me? Does he think that I am his master?” He wondered. Wayhood then did something unbelievable; he cut off his left hand to see what would happen. Edgar then mooed and his hands magically regenerated. Thinking that he was immortal, Wayhood became very cocky. He carried on to the flickering lights. It turned out that the lights were from the club that Wayhood was partying in the previous night. The club was full of foreigners traveling in China. He did not notice that the first time he was here as he was too distracted partying. The party goers greeted Wayhood loudly as if he was a regular. He left Edgar outside for fear that he would be provoked by the loud environment. Wayhood regained all of his strength somehow and he looked as good as ever even though he had just walked for 7 hours straight. There was a dance competition that night and the champion would be awarded with US$20,000 sponsored by Xiaomi. Wayhood did not notice until then that his wallet and phone were stolen before he woke up. He wanted to participate in the competition but he did not have any dance moves up his sleeves. “Why the hell not? I might as well try.” Talking to himself. Surprisingly, when it was Wayhood’s turn, he burnt up the dance floor. His moves were so fancy and sleek that no one objected to him winning. Even Wayhood was surprised himself. Edgar barged into the club just as Wayhood was about to receive the US$20,000 award. He had totally forgotten about him. Suddenly, he

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Fiction: Group 3

lost it, he shrieked and he cried. He begged Edgar to have mercy on him and he would not budge when the others told him to stop begging to an animal. It seemed that Edgar had driven him crazy. The people in the club just shuffled their way out of the club, wanting to get away from Wayhood. Eventually, Wayhood stopped begging and started to get himself together. He found that the bag of money was left next to him so he used the money to build a dirt house next to the club and make Edgar a hole. He gave up on his job, he gave up on his wife, and he gave up on everything, just for a cow. He did not plan to return home even once, wanting to stay near the Pearl River forever. Wayhood’s wife reported him missing after he did not come back from the vacation. Few months passed; the authorities had not found Wayhood since the day of his disappearance. However, a traveler just so happened to pass by Wayhood’s place. The traveler’s name will be kept a secret to protect him, so he will be called Ginav. To record what he had done in his life, Ginav always had a camera with him. When Ginav met Wayhood for the first time, Wayhood looked like a normal and sane person. “My name is Rany Wayhood. Yes it is pronounced rainy.” “Mine is Ginav Feer, Pronounced Ji-narv Fear. I am from Georgia, the country in Europe. Nice to meet you.” Ginav decided to hit the sack as it was late when he arrived at. On the other hand Wayhood never slept. Ginav decided to ask Wayhood why there were no people around before going to sleep. What Ginav saw next was horrifying; Edgar was “emitting” a sort of laser beam into Wayhood’s eye, like a ritual of some sort. Ginav caught it on tape as well. When the laser beam was being emitted, Wayhood kept saying, “Edgar is the one in the hole. Obey Edgar and receive immortality.” Then Edgar slowly turned his head around to look at Ginav and let off the loudest moo any man has ever heard to intimidate Ginav. It worked, Ginav scrammed, terrified for his life. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Ginav thought he was done for. But Edgar did not go after him, Ginav was safe from danger. However, when Ginav was checking the tape for what he had shot, he found that the scene where Edgar was performing the ritual was disoriented and choppy, as if Edgar’s presence was what caused the disturbance. The laser beam that Edgar was emitting was what kept Wayhood awake and it was what helped Wayhood walk the long distance and dance so greatly. Ginav decided to return to find the club. He was sure that he would find the club as there was a large boulder shaped like an American football. However, Ginav found the boulder, but the club was not there. Wayhood, Edgar disappeared into thin air. To this day, Wayhood is still reported missing by the police. In a parallel universe Edgar teleported to, Wayhood had been ploughing on a farm next to the river for three straight days. “Moooooo!” Edgar called for Wayhood. Wayhood dropped his plough, rushing into the house to clean up Edgar’s dung. When the floor was spotless again, Wayhood gave Edgar puppy dog eyes. Edgar snorted in disgust as her eyes emitted laser beam into Wayhood’s. Wayhood’s dry mouth was hydrated, his limbs no long sore and dark circles around his eyes gone. He knelt in gratitude and got back to work on the farm. As long as the laser beam was bestowed upon him, Wayhood would continue to be mad, as a willing slave in return for immortality.

Fiction: Group 3

Trip to the Pearl River Delta

Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Chan, Amelie - 15, Fiction: Group 3

8th March to 28th March, 2035 I travelled to several different places in the Pearl River Delta. After a short flight, I arrived in Guangdong. Because of Guangdong's geographical location and it was

connected to other parts of China, the area was an important stop in the famous Silk Road as far back as the 13th century. The automatic door to the exit opened, and with a heavy heart, I stepped out of one of the largest and most grand airports in Guangdong. The Pearl River Delta was now linked to nine major cities. It was now a 100-million people mega-city, which is twenty-six times larger than London. The city was prosperous and noisy as ever. My friend who lived there, Qing Xi, was waiting for me at the door. We hoped on a bus and went sight-seeing. She smiled wryly, “The cities lying along the Pearl River Delta was packed with people, but it can only sustain 1 per cent of the population out of its own water resources. The increasing population, the powering of machinery for production of factories has put a heavy pressure on energy production and especially, the water resources here.” “The countryside where I lived in is already converted into industrial and commercial land,” Qing Xi added, “We had nowhere to go. Reclamation and deforestation is serious. Forests are disappearing.” All that the cities in Pearl River Delta has, is money. A large knowledge city in Guangzhou is created in cooperation with Singapore. Economic liberalization is adopted in the past years, and the main cities along the Pearl River Delta has become major players in the world market. All that the cities in Pearl River Delta has, is money. The most valuable thing of all, is the cultural diversity there. This element is why people from all over the world come here. Guangzhou, Hong Kong and Shenzhen culture are the three main cultures in the Pearl River Delta. “In recent years, our region has become modernized and a lot of foreign cultural influences have been flooding in.” Qing Xi added. “The true identity, our original cultures are fading away in this modern, cosmopolitan region.” Yes, globalization can enable markets in the world to gather closer together, stimulates the flow of capital and information, but it will bring about negative impacts. The true identity—the main cultures of the Pearl River Delta has been slowly dissolving and disappearing. Ten years later, I will come back. Will there be a new story? Will they stop cutting the trees and keep the forests? 2nd June to 12th June, 2045 Trip to the Pearl River Delta A decade later, I went back to the strange yet familiar region—The Pearl River Delta. My friend Qing Xi has already moved away from the region. I stepped out of the Guangdong airport again, and I looked up to the sky. However, I couldn’t see one. It was blocked and covered by skyscrapers. There were tens and hundreds of them. However, there were only a few cars on the street. Smog filled the air and everything looked grey and gloomy. No people were walking on the streets. Choking and coughing, I hailed the only taxi in sight and headed straight to my hotel. “Sorry,” the receptionist greeted me. “There are no water available.” That’s when I realize that a drought is going on here. Not much people were in the hotel. There were only a few. No electricity was available. All energy resources were used up. The government has failed to achieve a balance between environmental conservation and economic development. The countryside—the forests, the beaches once I’ve been to were nowhere to be found. What I found there, once my home, were all skyscrapers and more skyscrapers. My heart was beating fiercely. This could not happen. Who—had torn down the forests and the countryside? Who—had took away the homes to those animals who lived here? Who—had destroyed the beautiful picture of the Pearl River Delta?

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Thanks to globalization, all the original cultures in the Pearl River Delta were gone. The forests were gone, the beaches were gone, the sky—originally blue, was gone. After all those years, everything has changed. The Pearl River region has become a dead region. The nature and the original cultures are crippling away as time goes by. The air was no longer clean, forests were no longer found, energy resources are used up… The Pearl River Delta, once prosperous, once a major player in the world market, once a cosmopolitan region, once my home, is now a dead region. Everything that happened in the past few years was just a few old pictures. They were just memories and they were dead. Rest in peace, the Pearl River Delta.

Fiction: Group 3

Regretting Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Cua, Constance-13, Fiction: Group 3

ear 2014 It was just after Benny Tai announced that ‘Occupy Central’ is launched when Elvis heard gunshots. Screaming, people used different objects to protect themselves from the bullets flying

from nowhere. Everywhere, there were people ducking, escaping or even flirting with death. Regaining posture and calmness, Elvis tried in vain to find his pregnant wife, Eleanor. He gradually found his way through the crowd and there she is, trying to search for himself too. Spinning around, Eleanor saw his husband and walked towards him. Reaching out to embrace him, just as their arms met… Elvis felt his body go limp, and he saw nothing but emptiness. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but failed to do so. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his mum and memories flooded back: “Mum?” Elvis shouted in the empty house and heard nothing in return except for his echo. He just came back home from school and realized his mum is nowhere to be found. Confused and frightened, he went into his mum’s room and found stains of blood on the floor. He immediately called the police and he was told to go to the Peking University Shenzhen Hospital to see his mum. His mum was dead, but clutching on a strip of paper for dear life. Pulling the paper free, he read the note in shock: The government sent someone to kill me as I wrote essays offending them. Grant my dying wish and leave Shenzhen and go to Hong Kong instead. Try your best to aid Hong Kong to the right path of democracy. He flinched at this memory and he thought, “Mum, I’ve tried my best.” * The attackers never stopped shooting at the protestors, Elvis was shot and he fell to the hard, concrete ground. Eleanor moaned desolately at the sight of Elvis. A man wrapped up a protective gear saw an easy target and fired. As if it was in slow motion, Eleanor spun around and shrieked in terror. A bullet was going straight for her. It had always been Eleanor’s intention to save her child; she defended her stomach with her fragile limbs. Eleanor’s hands were splattered with her own blood, but she endeavored to live for her baby’s sake, for her own sake... Year 2030 Andrés flipped through the photo album that his grandfather had kept. “Mum and Dad should be in this album,” he thought. Andrés was a handsome boy at the age of 16. His parent died in ‘Occupy Central’ movement which is supposed to be peaceful, but unfortunately turned into a bloodbath. His mother lived long enough to give birth to this strong-headed man, who vowed to finish what his parents couldn’t. However, the problem of democracy is permanently solved for when the soldiers marched into Central and killed almost all of the demonstrators. Instead, it was replaced by a problem called ‘racism’. Perhaps, Hong Kong and Shenzhen were on the same boat: suffering and dealing with the pollution problem in the Pearl River Delta. However, some Hong Kong people complained about the people from Shenzhen. Andrés, who craved for a sense of belonging, joined the group of Hong Kong people who labelled themselves as ‘Fighters’. * “You want to join us?” asked a scholar, disbelievingly. “Yes, I would like to,” confirmed the 16-year-old boy. “Okay, but we won’t let you go into the war,” replied the scholar. He added hastily when he saw Andrés raised his eyebrows, “If there is a war.” The well-dressed scholar turned out to be the leader of the Fighters, Caleb. Caleb showed Andrés to his house where the Fighters use it as their base. “Our goal is to have Shenzhen people civilized and maintain peace between two cities,” explained Caleb patiently, as if speaking to a child. Andrés thought of a witty come-back, but decided to hold his tongue. “The Fighters are stronger than I imagined it would be,” he thought, awed by the fully armed soldiers lining in front of him. After that, Caleb showed him the high-tech weapons which Caleb claimed it’s only for defense.

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After touring around the house, Caleb told Andrés to call his parents, concerning about Andrés joining an association. “No, no need for that,” Andrés declined his offer. “Why not? You need to balance this with your school work. Also, they may worry if you don’t go home on time,” Caleb shot back. “My parents are dead…” “Orphanage?” interrupted Caleb, evidently feeling sorry for Andrés. “No, I live with my grandpa. Telling him about this will only worsen his heart condition,” replied Andrés evenly. “Never mind then. Being a part of the community is a great responsibility, you might want to hear the details before I confirm your status. “First, we are fighting for Hong Kong. We don’t want uncivilized people here in Hong Kong; we don’t want Hong Kong to lose its good image. “Second, we aren’t specifically targeting Shenzhen people. It’s just because we mention it a lot as it’s one of the cities in the shining Pearl River Delta.” “I understand. I would be more than glad to be a member,” said Andrés politely. “Very well then. Considering you are a student, you don’t need to help out with the business, but please remember to attend meetings on every Saturday evening. If you can’t come, call me, 96522233. I need to make sure you’re safe.” “Thank you, sir, for your kindness and passion,” thanked Andrés. “Call me Caleb,” said Caleb, winking. Andrés walked back home while processing the events just happened. He doubted the Fighter’s aim, but was still glad he became one of them. Remembering he still had homework to do, he rushed home and worked until his eyes drooped. * School was boring, as usual, and Andrés was absorbed in writing a brand new novel of his when the teacher called him for a question. “What’s is the aim of the newly formed and uprising group, the Fighters?” the teacher surveyed the room and her eyes landed on a student who was obviously not paying attention at all. “Andrés!” Andrés stood abruptly and answered smoothly, “Civilize Shenzhen and other Chinese citizens and maintain peace between Shenzhen and Hong Kong.” ‘Correct! Now stop writing and pay attention,” said the teacher, surprised that he knew the correct answer without paying attention. * Saturday arrived and Andrés set out for the ‘headquarters’. “I heard that you answered the question about us correctly at school,” beamed Caleb, the moment Andrés stepped into the house. “Yeah, that’s right,” Andrés answerwwed while Caleb was barely able to contain his grin. “By the way, how did you know that?” Andrés questioned. “Oh, Sherlock Holmes has his ways,” smirked Caleb and Andrés rolls his eyes. People began to come in and fill the empty chairs around the long table. Andrés counted the number of people, but lost count at three hundred and ninety something. When all were seated, Andrés looked around and wondered, “How can Caleb fit all these people in this tiny room?” Andrés suspected that all of them were sharing the same air right now. “We need a bigger place, we have much more people than I anticipated,” Caleb muttered worriedly to one of his assistants. The grand meeting started with first introducing different duties and persuading members to help out with all kinds of work. It moved to another topic as soon as people had gotten their jobs. Members discussed plans to help the Shenzhen citizens to be more polite and reduce the number of tourists coming to Hong Kong. By the end of the meeting, the Fighters had yet to come up with another plan: help the Shenzhen and be friendly, so that we can avoid problems. However, this idea was criticized by the people who totally despise the Shenzhen. Finally, Caleb proposed a decision which everyone agreed: “It’s late, the meeting is adjourned”. Andrés couldn’t help but admire Caleb’s leadership skills and quick thinking. *

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Months flew by; Hong Kong seemed to be in a brink of war with Shenzhen: Hong Kong people were mean; and Shenzhen people were ruthless. Every Fighter thought hard to formulate a plan to prevent the war from happening. It was Andrés who came up with a plan, “I suggest fighting them. We’ve tried the soft way, but all the Shenzhen citizens did was to stand hard on their ground and provoke us even more.” “What do you mean?” challenged someone in the back of crowd. “They want war and I think we should fight them instead of backing down,” Andrés replied indignantly, waiting for cries of outrage. Instead, cheers and claps were heard. * When the clock strikes four, When everyone is holding deadly weapons, This is where the hell has broken loose. Pain, And Hatred Should’ve melt; Kindness And Love Should’ve come earlier. I’m the one, Who caused the war, I regret. -Andrés * Disclaimer: This story doesn’t mean any controversies. It was purely for fiction and it’s just coincidence if some plots are real situations.

Fiction: Group 3

A Fish in the Pearl River Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Deng, Whitney - 13, Fiction: Group 3

eek… Closing his closet door, Dayu (means ‘big fish’ in Chinese) had just finished getting changed for the Nobel Prize banquet - his grandson, Weiyu (means ‘micro fish’ in Chinese), had won the prize for inventing a Time Traveler. He paused in front of the ancient mirror hanging beside his

closet and frowned. A memory stirred - he had once met a man with this exquisite nose…

***

After the banquet ended, Dayu retired to Nobis Stockholm Hotel for the night. He was so fatigued that he fell asleep fully dressed. In the middle of the night, he was awaken by the need to use the loo. He fumbled his way in the dark and at long last - the door handle. He rushed in, slammed the door and felt his way through the room. As soon as he realized that this was not the loo, the Traveler started to gather speed and he was thrown to the ground.

Soon after, the Traveller stopped abruptly and the door flung open.

“Welcome to Guangzhou in 1918...” boomed a cheerful voice while Dayu struggled to regain his

balance. Taking a deep breath, he stepped over the threshold that marked the borderline between the past and present. Looking back, the door he had just gone through dissolved into a pile of decayed wood. He froze on the spot upon perceiving the fact that he was stuck in the past. His grandson had placed his invention in the wrong place at the wrong time!

Dayu looked around him.

The evening sun shone on the many villagers hurrying along the narrow streets of hard soil. Dayu was overwhelmed with the scent of wonton noodles when a rickshaw raised a dust storm causing him to choke. As he walked through the streets, he continuously drew unwanted attention to himself.

“Sir, are you new in town?” a curious voice surmised. Dayu stopped abruptly in his tracks. He turned around to face a short, tanned man. “Well, I’m Enlai. My master might like to house you for a few days,” the man offered.

Dayu doubted if he could trust this guy. “Please, sir. I have to get back to my master’s house before sunset.” Dayu took one more look at

the worker’s earnest expression and decided to follow him. A while later, Dayu found himself approaching the elegant French door of the only Western style

house towering over other villages. “Where’s the master of the house?” Dayu enquired the butler at the door. “The master and mistress are at the orphanage. They have been wanting to adopt for ages,”

whispered the butler.

Meanwhile, a British man was stepping off a carriage that had just arrived, “Hello, pleasure to meet you.” Dayu stepped forward and shook hands with the master who was also wearing a tail coat, a white shirt, and a bowtie. “I’m Dayu Deng.”

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The tall gentleman took a little time to recover from the shock of meeting another ‘gentleman’ in this town.

“Well, Mr. Deng, welcome to my humble home. I am Felix Wason. May I introduce my wife,

Isadora, and my son, Xiaoyu (means ‘small fish’ or ‘小魚’ in Chinese), also a Mr. Deng!” chuckled Wason. Dayu noticed a frail-looking boy about the age of five, emerging from the lavish carriage. Dayu

peered deeply into those dark, wistful eyes, and he saw a pale face staring back at him. He could feel an uncanny connection between them…

***

The next day, Wason brought his guest and newly adopted son to his factory. Wason’s factory

produced accessories using pearl-colored shells from Pearl River Delta. At noon, Wason and his foreman had a meeting. Before Wason entered the meeting room, he enjoined Dayu to look after Xiaoyu. Dayu agreed. However, as Dayu looked around the factory, he realised that Xiaoyu had disappeared! Dayu scrambled for Xiaoyu, he finally discovered Xiaoyu struggling in the Pearl River - as he slipped into the river when was playing on the banks of the river.

Cursing his fragile legs, Dayu sped towards the river which was right next to the factory. He dived into the fierce waves that whipped the docks. Into the water he went, his eyes as sensitive as a flashlight. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a tiny figure trying to keep his head up, slashing around, reaching for air. He activated his legs and sliced through the water like a motor, drawing nearer to the fading child. He arrived just in time when the child started sinking. Dayu emerged from the water, damp and cold, cradling the motionless Xiaoyu in his arms.

After the meeting, Wason realized that both Dayu and Xiaoyu were gone. He conducted a

thorough search in the factory but was in vain. Disappointed, he returned to his mansion. His butler informed him that Dayu and an unconscious Xiaoyu returned home damp and weak. Wason limited himself to his room for the rest of the day.

After having dinner in his room, he got ready for bed and did a little reading. Isadora knew her

husband was trying to cover up his thinking for his eyes were stuck on the same line for ages. “Do tell me what’s on your mind,” cooed Isadora. “Today, I believe Dayu tried to smuggle Xiaoyu away. I suspect that they are plotting against us.

We must send both away for our safety!”

Isadora, knowing her husband’s suspicious nature, waved her hand carelessly and curled in her bed, “As you wish.”

***

That night, Dayu lay flat on his bed, unable to sleep. He thought about another man similar to the

boy. He just didn’t understand. The turn of events seemed so eerily familiar. The night melted into dawn, Dayu got dressed and went down for breakfast. Beside Xiaoyu sat

Isadora who appeared to be depressed.

Wason got up and greeted Dayu, “Mr. Deng, this might be my last ‘good morning’ to you. You see, we decided to send our son, Xiaoyu, away to seek a better education. Mr. Deng, you had been a respectable figure for me and my wife to look up to. There is no one except you whom we can trust. Please do us a favor and leave Xiaoyu to a suitable teacher faraway. Take this bag of gold and go on to live freely.”

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Wason shook the elderly’s hand and as he walked away, Dayu thought he caught Wason twitching a smile.

In the daytime, Dayu and Xiaoyu boarded the carriage and set off for Hong Kong where Dayu knew a great expert in identification of animal fur. Life was extremely slow for Dayu. However, as flu invaded him, he grew more and more fond of Xiaoyu – his final treasure as he journeyed towards the end of his life.

***

The heavens opened and rain poured down. Dayu was traveling by the banks of Pearl River Delta when one of its rusty wheels loosened and rolled off the slope leaving a tumbling carriage. Dayu shielded Xiaoyu as they were thrown out of the carriage window. Xiaoyu gazed on as the carriage submerged in the water and their belongings disappeared into the river.

“What now?” asked Xiaoyu turned his back to the river. To Xiaoyu’s horror, he found Dayu in a

pool of crimson liquid, cradling his leg which was rapidly spilling blood.

“Noooo.... I just lost my parents! I can’t lose you too!” Xiaoyu begged and fell to his knees in despair.

Dayu closed his eyes. His mind wandered back to the time when he was a fur expert’s apprentice, teased by senior apprentices and studying by the candlelight late into the night. Twenty years later, he became a wealthy factory owner. Dayu recalled erecting a monument for a man from his childhood who had saved his life. Here, he would leave this world beside a… Hold on! Animal fur? Orphanage? That’s … himself, Xiaoyu is Dayu’s past self! As the truth dawned on him, he felt coldness freezing his chest. Time was running out. Dayu opened his eyes for the final time, motioning for Xiaoyu to come closer.

“Come to me… time has arrived… for us to part....” Dayu made immense effort to pronounce each syllable.

“Dayu means big fish, so my last wish is to tie a stone to my remains and being pushed into the Pearl River. My body should not be devoured by mankind, but to nurture great nature, where I belong...” With those last words, Dayu’s body grew limp. Kneeling beside him, Xiaoyu cried like a helpless infant.

***

A century later, a weather-beaten monument stood on the shore of Pearl River Delta, which was now a waterfront. The words carved on the once smooth face read:

Dayu Deng ?-1918 died of flu and leg injury Nothing is fair or unfair in this world. No one will do you good, but you have to do others good.

***

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History Lessons or a New Pearl River Delta? Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Lau, Nicole - 14, Fiction: Group 3

ook, Mum. I didn’t want to fall asleep in my History class, but I just couldn’t help it. The teacher was talking as if she was mumbling a sleep spell of some kind. I couldn’t help but doze off.”

My mum was glaring at me with a murderous look. She hated it when teachers complained about my performances at school. “Don’t worry. I will pay attention in class in the future,” I promised as persuasively as I could. “Tell me what happened exactly,” she ordered, with the disapproval still impossible to miss on her face. “Well, the teacher was talking about Hong Kong as a British colony. And I fell asleep, just like that.” What I said was just part of the truth. In fact, that History lesson could have made onto my ‘Most Unforgettable Lesson of All Times’ list. It wasn’t the messily scribbled notes on the blackboard that interested me, of course. It was the dream that I had. It was a new tale of the Pearl River Delta. Maybe it was due to the lack of sleep the day before, or perhaps it was because of my dislike towards history, but either way, I had a hard time focusing on my work during the lesson. I started flipping through the pages in my history book, and ended up finding myself staring at a portrait of Lin Zexu, the one who destroyed opium in the war, so the book said. I started thinking in a way that would have driven my History teacher mad. I imagined what it would be like if Lin Zexu never destroyed opium. I pictured a Hong Kong that had never been under British control. I dreamed for a world without history to study. All of these seemed satisfying. And just like that, the voice of the nonstop talking of the teacher blurred into a background music that matched with the rhythm of the tick tocks of the classroom clock. And I fell asleep. In my dream, I was standing in my living room with my mum.

“Mum, can you suggest a monument in Hong Kong to visit? I have to write a review on a historical event for my History assignment.” I asked. “How about the statue dedicated to the soldiers who beat down the British armies in the Opium War and saved Hong Kong from the rules of Britain?” she suggested. I myself may not be a big fan of the history of Hong Kong, but at least I have got the common sense to know that Hong Kong was once under British rule. Hearing my mum say that, I was so bewildered that I stuttered when I talked, “I… I haven’t heard of such a thing before. You mean Hong Kong was not a British colony?” “Oh no, of course not! Don’t you pay attention in class? Now, go back to your room and start working on your homework!” she said with such certainty that I almost believed it was true. However, a part of me was sure something strange was going on. For one thing, what my mom just said made no sense at all. If I wrote that in my History exam, I would probably fail. For another, my room felt vaguely unfamiliar. There was the old blue wallpaper that peeled off at the corners. Yes, there was nothing wrong with it, but something, something had changed. I turned around and saw it. My paintings, my paintings in which I imitated the drawing styles of Van Gogh and Picasso, were gone. They had magically transformed into a huge Chinese painting. It was a picture of the view from the top of a mountain, painted only with black ink. I stared at the painting in shock. Then I noticed something even more horrifying. I used to have a white teddy bear the size of a large pillow. Used to. Now, it had become a Chinese doll. It wore a traditional Chinese dress, the ones you see rich ladies wear in old movies. It was made of a thin flowery patterned cloth and tightened at the hips. Then the terrifying fact slowly dwelled on me. My painting in western style had changed into an old Chinese painting. That gigantic teddy bear of mine had turned into a ragged Chinese doll. That means everything from the West had gone missing, replaced by Chinese objects. Adding into consideration what my mum said about Hong Kong winning the war against the British. I understood right away. The weird world that I was staying in was one in which Hong Kong had never been under British rule. That part of the Hong Kong history had been altered. This explained everything. Without the British

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rule, Hong Kong was not made a free port, nor was it an entrepot. So foreign trading was not popular, and so were the cultural exchanges between China and other countries. That was why all the things in my room were in Chinese style. Now that I knew what this world was all about, the fact seemed to weigh me down. My vision even sharpened, as if a wall of mist had just cleared up, allowing me to notice a lot more details in my room than before: I had lost my pencil bag, and instead there was a set of Chinese writing brushes of all different sizes hung on a wooden stand. Along with them, of course, were an ink stone and an ink stick. Great, just great, I thought. Great inconvenience. Another thing I noticed was that there was a faint greenish light seeping into my room through the gap under the old-fashioned curtains. I yanked them open immediately and saw a huge plain of grass. It was so large in size that I could not even see where it led to. I could not believe my eyes. I stood so still and silently that I could have heard a mosquito flying past. Seeing such a view in front of me, I could have screamed and run out of the room, I could have pinched myself in the cheek to see if I was hallucinating, but all I did was stand. Then a cow walked by the window and mooed. I lived on a farm. I let that sink in. Still, it didn’t make any sense. Then, it struck me. I recalled something my History teacher had said about the British rule in Hong Kong boosting its economic development as well as commerce industries. Without the influence of the British rule, however, Hong Kong developed at a surprisingly slow pace. Yet, what are the other parts of the Pearl River Delta like in this world?

My mind went racing. I suddenly realized that a Hong Kong without the improvements made during the British rule also affected areas around Hong Kong, the Pearl River Delta. Without the motivation from Hong Kong’s great economic development, the Pearl River Delta Special Economic Zone policy probably would not have been carried out. Also the mixture of European and Chinese culture would not have been so popular in the Pearl River Delta.

I ran out of my room to find my mum. So many questions rushed into my head that I didn’t know which one to ask first.

“Mum, how are the other parts of the Pearl River Delta nowadays?” I asked. “Oh, they are just like Hong Kong. We all farm for our living. There is no other source of food apart

from local production, you know. So we have to work very hard,” she answered. “What about their culture? Do they use things imported from other countries?” “As I have told you, Hong Kong simply reflects what it is like in other parts of China. There is not

much difference between them. We do not have many imported goods, nor do they,” she replied. “Why are you suddenly so interested in these?”

I shook my head in confusion. This must not be true. The Pearl River Delta, the one in my world, is one of the most rapidly developing areas in China. And now, it has become scarcely populated, isolated from the culture of foreign countries, and slow-paced.

I heard the teacher call my name. I woke up from my dream and blinked hard. I was still having my

History lesson. It had all been a dream, but a very real one. The teacher looked at me disapprovingly, and my face turned bright red. My classmates snickered.

My new tale of the Pearl River Delta had not been an enjoyable one. It is amazing how one single event in the past can change everything. If I were to choose, I would prefer History lessons to the world that I just dreamed of.

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That’s What Friends Are For Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Tong, Rachel - 14, Fiction: Group 3

lease Jake,” my old friend clasped his hands in front of him and pleaded.

“I…”

I stared at the job proposal he had laid in front of me. I knew his news agency couldn’t stand much longer and things were going downhill, but my wife was

expecting a baby, and the job was just too… hard.

“This job is vital to our corporation” my friend was desperate, wringing his hands as if he were strangling someone.

I sighed.

“But travelling around the Pearl River Delta…” I couldn’t say that the idea wasn’t tempting. Being an independent journalist… well, it would be an adventure.

“I know you want to go,” my friend seemed to have read my mind, and sincerely peered at me through wire-rimmed glasses.

I sighed resignedly and curled my fingers around the folder.

The middle-aged chief editor’s features lit up, the worry lines, which were oh so prominent these days, vanishing instantly.

“You’ll do it?” he asked disbelievingly.

“Yes,” I nodded to confirm, and rose from my seat. What would my wife say?

~*~

“Do you really have to go?” my wife’s eyes were watery as they followed my movements.

I clamped my suitcase shut and sighed.

“I know it’s hard for you but…” I stood it up on its wheels and looked up at her.

“I understand,” she gave me a small smile. She had seen me leave for trips so many times and even came with me on some occasions.

I gave her one last hug, kissed her eight-and-a-half-month-old baby bump and headed out of the door, unwilling to keep the house out of my sight…

I hailed a cab and watched as the house grew smaller and smaller, until we turned a corner and it was lost to view.

The cab sped along the road, the trees whipping by, and arrived at the airport. I silently boarded the plane and watched as my country faded into the clouds. I closed my eyes.

The next thing I knew was the rumbling of an engine and the bumpiness of ground. I jolted awake and followed the line of people trickling down to the exit, my mind still fixed on my to-be-born son.

Hong Kong. This was my first destination. The famous business center of the world. I had scheduled an interview with a bank manager in the famous IFC building, which was one of the infamous skyscrapers of

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Hong Kong. Standing in front of that huge building, I suddenly felt small and vulnerable. Shaking off the feeling, I stepped into it and found the Chinese restaurant we were to meet up in.

The banker was a nice clean-shaven man with sleek black hair gelled back perfectly.

“What can I say about Hong Kong,” he tapped his chin as I managed to poise my pen over my notebook. “It has a familiar business environment.”

I nodded encouragingly.

“It has world-class business services and has a cosmopolitan lifestyle,” he ticked them off with his fingers.

That sum-up was quite good, so I jotted down the points and chatted with him about banking.

After that, I toured around the famous landmarks, the Peak, the Hong Kong Museum of History and many many more. I wrote everything down in my little notebook and went straight for the train taking me to Dongguan. I had no time to spare.

After a couple of hours of reading and staring out the window engrossed in my homesickness, I arrived at the place famous for its garment trade. I visited a garment factory where I saw workers from different parts of the country, working hard to earn money for their respective families. An old woman recounted her sad story and I put it on record. Once again, my wife’s image floated into my mind. Some of them had to leave their families behind to work in foreign lands and I just barely touched the surface of their sadness. The woman came up to me and clasped one of my hands in her wrinkled and old ones, thanking me again and again though I had did nothing but gave her a couple of comforting words. The clothes they made suddenly seemed much more valuable.

After the visit, I went to the world’s largest shopping mall, the New South China Mall. Feeling excitement bubbling up my chest, I stepped inside. To my surprise and disappointment, the mall was largely empty, like the hole in my heart, the corridors were gaping holes swallowing people up. Few merchants had ever signed up and not many people went there. Heart sinking, I described its emptiness in my notebook and set off again to my next stop--Foshan.

There, I interviewed a man living in the city, who welcomed me warmly into his humble home which reminded me of someplace I yearned to go back to, and told me about the history of Foshan.

Smoothing back the barely visible white wisps of hair on his head, he smiled and started the story.

“Long long ago,” the man said through the gaps between his teeth. “Foshan was named Lihua Township. In the Jin Dynasty, a monk founded a temple on our Tapo Hill. It was left to rot and fell into disrepair. Then in the Tang Dynasty, a couple of residents found three statues of the Buddha, and then they saw lights coming from the temple. They then built a new one to hold the Buddhas. Buddha in Chinese is Fo, and Mountain is Shan. Foshan is the name for this place ever since.”

After hearing the story, we chatted about life in the city and I learnt quite a lot.

I had to head to my last destination, but it was already nightfall, so I stayed at a motel, setting off early in the morning.

My last stop was Zhongshan. I arrived at Zhongshan and headed straight to a furniture showroom. Zhongshan was famous for its furniture and I wasn’t disappointed. The place was full of different chairs, tables, sofas, and the designs were intricate. I neared a column of baby furniture and I suddenly remembered my expecting child.

I asked for the designer and we chatted about furniture for a while, then he told me that Zhongshan was named after an incredible man named Dr. Sun Yat-sen. The designer was kind enough to take me to the Sunwen Memorial park where the largest bronze sculpture of Dr. Sun Yat-sen was situated. Then he took

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me around the famous leafy parks of the place where all around me was green. We then travelled around the wide boulevards and different monuments. I felt more than pleased.

That night, when I had returned to my hotel bedroom, I pulled out my phone to see it vibrating in my palm. I must have set it to silent mode. To my surprise and fleeting joy, it was my wife.

“Jake,” her voice sounded tired and strained. “I’m going to the hospital now. The baby...”

My hands shook as I clutched the phone to my ear.

“I’ll be right there,” I said quickly.

I had to go back though I still had Guangzhou, Huizhou, Jiangmen and Zhuhai to go to. I didn’t know if the company was safe yet, but I do know that I had tried my best.

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Can’t do it? Or won’t do it? Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Young, Stephanie - 14,

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young child at the age of eight was sent to the hospital last night.’ He took off his spectacles tenderly, discreetly placing them onto his desk. He let out a muted

sigh, mildly running his fingers through his dark hair, as if trying to ease the burden that had been constantly pressured upon him. ‘Symptoms of vomiting and sudden memory loss that were speculated to be brought up by the current epidemic that had been sweeping throughout southern China was found on the child, however doctors are still not able to find out the reason behind these various symptoms, though some assume it is simply the trend of a tropical flu that would likely end in a few weeks time.’ The man glanced at the blaring radio, the only source of sound in the room that was supposed to be his ‘research room’, the only source of vigor in his tedious work life. ‘Some reason that it is the cause of contaminated food sources, but up till now scientists and doctors still cannot find a reasonable explanation to this formidable phenomenon.’ He closed his sleepless eyes for a brief moment; his exhausted mind was too fatigued to be able to continue with his work any longer. When was the last time he actually had a full night’s sleep? Was it a few days ago? Or was it a month? ‘Local news: environmentalists have been sending many proposals to the government for the past few months, claiming that the Peal River Delta is now being highly polluted by biochemical factories, however the government does not seem to take any action on this matter.’ “Lu, please get on with your work.” The man, now known as Lu, jumped up at the sudden warning coming from his superior, immediately putting on his glasses and muttering an inaudible apology before digging back into his paperwork. “I’m sure you are certain of what you need to do as a biochemical researcher, Lu.” That was how Lu’s life every day went by.

**** “When was the last time you had a break?” Lu’s eyes flew open as he gasped slightly, shocked by the sudden company that joined him. He didn’t even notice that he had been lying on his desk for the past hour, dozing off before he could even stop himself. “I’m sorry sir, I’ll get back to my work immediately…” “No, no,” the young newcomer stopped him, placing a hand on Lu’s in a friendly matter. “I’m not your superior... But, I can’t believe you’ve forgotten about me, Lu.” The radio crackled in the background, creating a tense atmosphere around the two men. The newcomer happily made himself comfortable by pulling out a chair and sitting on it. Lu made no sign of dispute. Lu looked up blearily, drinking in the ecstatic appearances of this man. His sculpted jaw lifted with a smile that seemed to radiate felicity wherever he went. And that honey-like voice…

“A

Fiction: Group 3

“Fei…?” Fei smiled heartily, his eyes flitting towards Lu’s table, piled with various documents filled with confidential information. “Do you like your work?” Lu shrugged mindlessly. “It’s… my job.” Fei sighed, letting his forehead rest against Lu’s table in a childish manner, his eyes never leaving Lu’s. “You’ve changed, Lu.” At that, Lu snapped his head up, his eyes meeting Fei’s brown orbs for the first time. His lips formed a small frown, eyes squinting at Fei, who glared back in an equal demeanor. “I’m sure you know, Lu,” the laughter had completely evaporated from his eyes, his customary warmth gone quicker than spring showers on hot sizzling earth. A strange fire seemed to be burning in those brown orbs. “Your company, your beloved job, you know how they are contaminating the Pearl River Delta waters with the waste of unlawful genetic engineering of a new hereditary product which produces waste that brings up symptoms of vomiting and sudden memory loss.” Fei was now inching closer to Lu, a subtle smirk playing at the corner of his lips in his moment of arrogant triumph. “Ring any bells?” “You don’t know what you’re saying.” “I perfectly know very well what I’m saying, but do you know what had you been doing for the past, what, ten years?” Lu had now pushed Fei to the ground, snarling at him like a wild animal. Unexpectedly, Fei looked less than surprised at Lu’s sudden act of violence, instead, he actually laughed. “Despite working in such a barbaric association, doesn’t mean you have to be senseless machines and work for such uncivilized causes. Look what you’ve become. A mindless animal.” “Shut up.” Lu raised his hand, preparing to deliver a hard blow to the petty face of his friend, but at the same time, a nagging feeling from the pit of his stomach seemed to be warning him that this wasn’t right. “Lu, I’ve been aiding the government in finding the cure for this disease, this… catastrophe for years,” Fei reasoned, “These…orders from your superiors, it’s illogical, immoral even. Lu, what happened to the memories? What happened to ‘protecting our home’?”

**** “Lu!” Fei ran through the grassy lands near Xi Jiang, a major southern river of the Pearl River Delta, his pretty hair blown from his face, but his face seemed pale, ashen even. “Lu, something wrong has happened!” The dark-haired Chinese boy who had been sitting quietly on the grass, enjoying how the sky adorned itself with brilliant shades of red and orange, how alluring swirls of color of this enticing splendor had taken his breath away, and yet this boy had to ruin such an overwhelming moment of peace.

Fiction: Group 3

“Your mother…” Lu’s attention immediately came to its full at the mention of his own mother, “she was poisoned, and the contaminated food of the River Delta…” Those words fell from Fei’s lips like vapor, but landed into Lu’s stomach as shards of glass. Before Lu could even register the blood that drained from his face, he was already running, his feet pounding on the green terrain, heart hammering in his chest, and what he saw next tore his remaining forlorn hope into crumbled shreds into despair. He couldn’t bring himself to believe the sprawled figure on his own doorstep was his own mother. “Lu… I’m sorry…” that figure said in a wistful voice, “I failed to be a responsible mother…” The icy hand that touched Lu didn’t even feel humane, freezing, like a corpse’s depleted from blood. The lifeless limb weakly caressed his face, the once rosy red lips now formed a forced cracked smile. “Promise…” her breath seemed to come in uneven gasps, “Promise me to be a good man… Protect our home, our Pearl River Del…” The hand went limp as it fell onto the body’s side, lifeless. Lu stared at the figure that was supposed to be his mother, her arms that had once brought him warmth and protection with her embraces were now scattered limply like a rag doll thrown onto the ground, her once beautiful complexion was now drained from its usual color. All these adding to the bluish lips of hers seemed unreal to Lu. Something that had once been so powerfully alive did not seem logical to disappear so quickly. The shock was too sudden, hitting Lu like waves of realization, as the poor boy dropped to his knees, his agonizing wails echoing in the house, not even noticing Fei inch closer to him, hearing the words that left his mouth at that moment of misery. “I promise.”

**** “I knew I failed her.” The atrocious memory was still clearly embodied into his mind; he remembered every detail, every emotion that racked through his frail body that day. “Every day… the same nightmare. It was as though I was seeing everything in black and white.” Fei’s brown eyes searched Lu’s dark ones, the maroon orbs swirling with a mixture of compensation and suspicion, but still, Fei smiled, once again placing his hand on Lu’s, trying to ease his suffering. “Ten years… what kind of monster had I become? Can I even become human again?” “Sometimes… it’s hard to leave what you’ve always been through… but then, sometimes it brings you things you otherwise had never dreamt of…” Lu looked back into Fei’s warm stare, his aura of felicity has returned, surrounding him, his smile mending the torn shreds of despair back into the little chunk of hope that still lies deep in that devastated broken heart of his. He gathered the pile of paperwork on his desk, handing them to Fei. And for the first time in ten years, Lu smiled. “I’m sure this information would aid in the research of the government finding the cure for the disease.” Fei gratefully took the papers and placed them against his chest, a wide smile growing on his lips, tears seemed to be glistening from his own orbs, tears of relief; tears of joy. “Some things were worth the risk after all.”

Fiction: Group 3

The Pearl of the Pearl River Delta Marymount Secondary School, Rippon, June - 12, Fiction: Group 3

Prologue

he squinted into the mist but saw nothing. However, she was sure there was something there, watching her, following her. She heard shuffling, moving closer and closer. She stepped back and pressed herself against the stone cold wall. She could hear her heart beating faster and faster. A foul

smell and strange noises filled her surroundings. She started to move along the wall, trying to get away, but she slipped on the mossy stone floor and scratched her hands and knees badly. She felt her blood trickle onto the floor. It was no use, it was over. She sat there and wept silently. Something towered over her. It’s low, gruff voice shook the chamber. “Do you give up?” it asked. The girl shivered in fear, “No, I do not. You

will never succeed, you foul beast!” She answered strongly. The voice grunted, lightning flashed, the girl let out a terrifying scream, and all was silent.

1 “Get up! It’s 5am and past your morning call.” Abigail Lin pulled the covers over her head yet again as her instructor tried to yank her out of bed. With a strong pull, she pulled Abigail out of bed. Abigail glared at her instructor and sighed, “Fine, I’ll be ready in 5 minutes.” The instructor looked at her watch, “Nope, sorry kid. I’m afraid you have only 2 minutes max. We’ll be waiting for you in the Lounge.” Abigail got ready in 3 minutes, which was a new record. She rushed down the flight of creaking stairs and raced across the grass to get to the Lounge. “…will begin.” The head instructor said, just as Abigail rushed through the doors. She wiped her hair out of her face and steadied her breath. At least 30 pairs of eyes were on her, she suddenly felt very self-conscious. “Why, may I ask, are you late?” demanded the head instructor. “Sorry sir.…” Before she could finish explaining, another girl burst through the door. The head instructor raised his eyebrows, clearly unimpressed. “Back to where we left off.” “Welcome to the Cross-strait Education Camp. This is not just any ordinary camp, everything around you is highly secret. Nobody knows of this camp’s existence in Hong Kong. We take in students from Hong Kong and Macau. Our instructors will train you to face life-threatening moments, hunt treasures and solve mysteries. Besides all that fun, we will also train you to behave with the utmost propriety and proper decorum. And so, each and every one of you will be having lessons on good ethics with me. Those who do not reach my expectations, will be asked to have more lessons. Have I made myself clear?” As everyone got up to leave, he added, “If you don’t behave yourselves, there will be heavy punishment. Just a kind reminder.” Then he left the room with a cold smile. Abigail was dreading introducing herself to people, she would much rather stay in a corner, all by herself. “Little girl,” her group’s instructor said gently, “It’s your turn. Go ahead.” Abigail stood up slowly, took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. Silently she mumbled, “Hi guys I’m Abigail Lin, I’m 15 and I’m a local resident. I’m pretty sure you have all the information necessary.” With that, she slumped back into her chair. After what seemed like forever, the last kid introduced herself as Gabby Huey from Macau. She dronedon about how her parents spoil her with all sorts of gifts because she is their ‘princess’. Abigail rolled her eyes, she hated materialistic people as she thought they were shallow. It wasn’t long before an argument broke out between the two. Abigail was queueing up for her lunch one morning when Gabby jumped the queue. Voices were raised and all eyes were on them. Without thinking, Abigail dug her hand into the bowl of mashed potatoes and chucked it at Gabby. Everyone gasped in surprise. Gabby shook her head in disbelief, “You didn’t just do that.” Abigail laughed, “Oh yes I did. For your information, I would like to do it again!” Before Abigail did anything stupid, an instructor grabbed her wrist. “Oh no,” he said, “You two are in BIG trouble.”

2 Their punishment was to clean up after the evening party. That alone was already bad enough but having to listen to Gabby’s non-stop complaining was a pure nightmare. Abigail restrained herself from saying something insulting as much as she could. While cleaning up, Abigail saw a beautiful white pearl in the grass. Stunned with amazement, she carefully put it in her pocket.

S

Fiction: Group 3

“Look!” Gabby cried suddenly, pointing at the sky. “It’s a shooting star!” Abigail gasped in delight. “Quick! Make a wish!” Both girls dropped all their cleaning tools and shut their eyes tight. When they opened them, they were blinded by bright light. They squinted into the light and saw a girl robed in white emerge gracefully. “Greetings, fellow guardians of the heart of China!” The girl said and bowed. Abigail jumped to conclusion, “She’s from an asylum. I’d better steer clear.” “What? ‘Heart of China’?” Gabby was confused. The girl’s gay laughter sounded magical. “Why, don’t you know? The Pearl River Delta of course! Haven’t you heard of it?” The two girls shook their heads in bewilderment. “Mygoodness, gracious! Let me tell you all about it then. Long ago, a wicked, cold-hearted villain wanted to conquer the world. He set his eyes on China. What better way to do it than to lay his hands on the Pearl River Delta? By destroying the Magic Pearl of the Pearl River Delta, the economy in that region will wither and China will go into a recession. To prevent that, a young girl was chosen to be the guardian angel whose mission was to guard the Magic Pearl.” Abigail was not impressed, “So… You are the guardian angel of the Magic Pearl? Good for you! What does that have to do with us?” The angel replied calmly, “Not long ago, I was hunted down by the evil villain and my powers were smothered. In order to save the region, I require assistance. You have found the Magic Pearl. Therefore, both of you are now guardians of this region.” Gabby was confused, “Wait! First, what Magic Pearl are we talking about?” Abigail sighed and showed her the pearl. Gabby smirked, “Does that mean I’m stuck with her?” She pointed at Abigail, “That is highly impossible, I assure you.” The angel frowned, “Please girls, I’m depending on you. A little more love in one small camp can make a big difference. If you excuse me, I must love you and leave you.” The dazzling girl disappeared in a flash.

3 Everything was working out great for the girls. They got along and so did others around them. As if by magic, they always seemed to be able to influence others to love and care. On a morning like any other, the two girls were walking in the woods when someone kidnapped them from behind. There was a small struggle, then everything went black. When the girls woke up, they found themselves in the head instructor’s office, sitting right opposite the instructor himself. “Girls, girls. Why did you meddle?” “Meddle in what, sir?” Abigail asked. “You know perfectly what I’m talking about. Now hand it over.” The girls stared blankly at him. “The Magic Pearl! You useless little rascals! Do you know who I am? I am the mighty villain who will destroy the world!” There was dead silence. Suddenly, the head instructor curled on the ground and started shaking violently. Black smoke was coming out of his body and started to wrap around the girls. No matter how hard the girls tried to charm the dark creature with their voices, the darkness just got thicker. Abigail glanced at Gabby, “Don’t give in!” she mouthed. Dark smoke surrounded them and a gruff voice said, “Your beloved Pearl River Delta will fall. Boo hoo…” It mimed. Gabby could stand this no longer, “You wicked creature! The Pearl River Delta was a barrier to you and will always be one! Abigail and I will never let you destroy our motherland.” White light shot from the sky and with a loud “POP”, the dark creature and its fellow “instructors” were replaced by the lovely guardian angel. She smiled warmly at the girls, “Well done my dears, you have earned my trust. Keep up the good work and spread the love to others.” Abigail sighed in relief, “Next stop, Shenzhen, then Guangzhou…” “Don’t forget Zhuhai!” Gabby chimed in, “I’m dying to try their fried scorpions!” The angel smiled, “Go ahead girls. You deserve it. I must again love you and leave you, for my time in this world is almost up. Remember, I might not be next to you to guide you, but I will always be in your hearts.”

Fiction: Group 3

Tales of the Pearl River Delta Po Leung Kuk Choi Kai Yau School, Lai, Jane-Marie - 13, Fiction: Group 3

1968, summer

ll Joanne Li-Wilson remembered doing the past months was running away from the Government. Framed for hijacking the government’s system and without sufficient evidence to prove her innocence, Joanne had to run away. With a ten thousand dollar price on her head, Joanne fled from

Tianjin to Guangdong. 1969, fall Joanne walked briskly in an alley of Guangzhou. Two women goggled at her un-ladylike attire of worn out pants and large bat like cloak, totally different from the elegant dresses of the current style. Turning to a dark alley, Joanne tucked her hood over her head, concealing her face. Her bright sapphire blue eyes glinted in the darkness. Shifting her body just in time, Joanne hid behind a post box and the patrolling policemen walked past her, not knowing that there was a wanted criminal next to them. Joanne walked into a hidden back alley and turned to see if she was being followed. Once clear, she knocked on the walls of the alley in a unique pattern of rhythm. There was a shuffling, then the walls spilt into two and allowed a gap thick enough for a slim athletic person like Joanne to slip through. “Joanne Li-Wilson.” The blue eyed girl squinted her eyes against the abnormally dim room. “Lo Zheng.” “What the hell are you doing here? You’re a wanted criminal, if anyone finds you here, I’ll get caught too! You better have a good explanation for why you’re here.” Joanne sighed, “Zheng, first, you know I didn’t hijack the government’s system, second, I’m on the run. I need a way out of this country. I need to go to Hong Kong, it’s a British colony, and I’m half British from dad’s side, I’ll be safe there.” Zheng backed away, shaking with fear, “I can’t help you, I’ll get caught.” Joanne grew angry, “Zheng, you owe me. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be here now! Please, you owe me. Help me get to Hong Kong without getting caught by the government and ensure my stay. That’s the least you can do.” Zheng sighed, “Okay, you need someone in Hong Kong to ensure your stay, who - ?” “My cousin from my dad’s side, he’s easy to find, he’s the most respected lawyer in Hong Kong – James Wilson. But I’m half British, why –?” “Umhmm…you can travel using the Pearl River, take a raft with you, something that’s not eye catching. Here – I’ll show you.” Zheng led Joanne into another room so bright that it made her black hair look brown. A flimsy yellow rubber raft and two wooden paddles were laid out in a corner. Joanne walked closer to inspect the raft. “Here.” Joanne shoved a stack of cash into Zheng’s hands. “Wha – ? “Thank you for your help. Contact my cousin. I’ll be safe in Hong Kong. Farewell.”

~~~

A

Fiction: Group 3

Two hours later, Joanne was paddling her yellow flimsy raft on the Pearl River – well it wasn’t really yellow, Joanne smudged her raft with mud and grass to camouflage it so that it would be unnoticeable. Joanne ducked her head from the open air, careful not to be seen. However, she would occasionally peek over and look at the scenery of the Pearl River to enjoy the rare landscape and also to check if she was on the right course. Houses sprawled along the river banks of the Pearl River, snaking along the edge like some giant multi-colored dragon. Trees and grassland blended with buildings and developing factories. Chatter and laughter of distant citizens could be heard even in the River. A night later, Joanne felt ravenous. She looked around her tiny raft, only to realise that she had no rations with her. After all those well done preparations, I did not bring any food with me? Joanne wanted to scream in disbelief, but she managed to swallow down her anger. Reluctantly, Joanne leaned over the edge of the raft and took a big sip from the river. She knew that drinking raw water without boiling it will cause sickness, but it was unavoidable, she had to drink in order to survive, as well as try to catch a few fishes to eat. Joanne ignored the aching of her grumbling stomach, the irritating feeling that felt like a snake twisting in her insides. Three days later, the weather became ruthless, the winds had picked up and the flimsy raft was swaying dangerously. It’s probably a typhoon; didn’t this area have loads of those? Joanne thought bitterly. I knew I should’ve checked the bloody weather forecast. But miraculously, her rickety boat was not wrecked by the winds, at least not till morning.

~~~ Joanne woke up to the burning cold icy water at dawn. The rubber raft had been flipped over by the reckless winds and she was thrown overboard. The cold pierced her skin like burning daggers. Joanne kicked and thrashed, trying not to be separated from her raft and keeping her afloat. She tried without success to flip her raft back up, but instead slipped and felt sharp rocks tear open her skin. No! Joanne swallowed in her screams of sharp pain. She mustn’t let anyone hear her. After a few more tries and getting a lot more cuts and bruises, Joanne finally got her insubstantial raft to flip back to the proper way. She hoisted herself on the raft and curled into a ball. Joanne couldn’t control her shivering. She was shaking like a leaf. She could’ve gotten hypothermia from the river for all she knew. “Stay strong, Jo. If you’re going through hell, keep going.” She muttered. Hyperthermia had taken over Joanne. Her fingers shook from the cold, she couldn’t feel her toes and she couldn’t make herself feel warm. Even though the typhoon had passed away, it kept raining. The freezing rain soaked into her clothes and leeched out all her warmth. Even worse, the cuts made from the rocks had become infected. Yellow pus leaked from her wounds, it was unbearable and horrid. It was all those nights that made Joanne lose strength and made her lose hope. Joanne lay on her raft like a corpse. Two and a half weeks had passed and there was no sign of Hong Kong. Joanne was thinking of the worst. Maybe I have already drifted out of the Pearl River delta, in to the South China Sea. It won’t matter anyway, I’m already half dead. As if mocking her, land appeared on the left of her raft. British styled buildings came out of the fogged air. Fishing boats and large ships alike cruised in front of her. The impressive sight of the mountain reaching out into the sea, British men and Chinese fishermen trading, chatting and catching up on the latest gossip delighted Joanne. Her blue eyes shone with new hope, her pale dehydrated lips broke in to a grin. A whoop of joy came out of her mouth. Newfound strength surged through her arms. Adrenaline flowed in to her blood. Her thin arms took the wooden paddle and breathlessly paddled towards the trading terminal.

Fiction: Group 3

“Hey! Hey, help me” Joanne shouted. “Wèi! Bāng wǒ la!” She didn’t care if she sounded insane, after all those days on the Pearl River, yelling at people a football pitch away don’t seem crazy at all. All Joanne knew was that she was in Hong Kong and she was safe.

~~~ Kind fishermen helped Joanne reach land. They fussed over her weakened condition and were astonished that she had survived all those harsh environments. The British guards however weren’t as sympathetic. They were suspicious of Joanne. Ignoring her proclamations of her heritage, they threw Joanne in an isolated cell until more evidence was found. Does my cousin know I’m here? Zheng, please keep your promise. Tell my cousin that I’m here… Joanne prayed. And her prayer came true. Three days later, a tall black haired man with sharp features much like her came to Joanne’s cell. “Hey, cousin. Didn’t you tell the guards that you’re half British?” “James, I was on the run, I ain’t got time for your jokes, shut up and get me out of this blasted cell.” Joanne said. The two family members laughed and embraced each other. They exchanged stories and jokes as they walked back to civilization. “They framed me for messing up the government’s system…ridiculous, insane people…” “…what a close shave!” “I almost drowned!” “You’re lucky…” The pair travelled to Hollywood Road, laughing all the way home. They had travelled a great distance, but Joanne’s grit and determination brought her even further.

Fiction: Group 3

Tales of the Pearl River Delta Po Leung Kuk Choi Kai Yau School, Lee, Joyce - 13, Fiction: Group 3

arm sunny weather, fishing boats breaking waves, towing nets, it was a perfect day for fishing in Guangzhou. The boats were scattered over the harbour, like fallen leaves on a pond. Suddenly the clouds turned grey, the murky clouds swirled in a spiral altering the wild blue yonder into a

misty shade of grey, a majestic monster of darkness. A fuzzy mist overtook the city of Guangzhou, a giant whirlpool circled the dark ocean. As the fishermen struggled to reach the shore, a bipedal monster dived out, waves violently sank the boats tied to the pier. There was complete darkness with screeches that could raise the dead. The creature towered over the fishermen’s boats, gigantic waves crashed recklessly onto the walls of their ships. Fishermen grasped on to the edge of their boats. Water splashed their injured faces as they yelled, ‘Help! A monster, a monster!’ Many fishermen were tossed into the sea. The creature had a humongous mouth, replete with frothing saliva, ‘I want food!’ it roared. It stomped violently on to the ocean floor, forming waves that slapped vigorously against the harbor. ‘The waves were like wild and uncontrollable horses,’ wailed a fisherman, ‘pounding recklessly on to our precious harbor with their foamed hooves.’ It launched itself out of the ocean and onto land. Every step it took sent shudders down the earth’s core. The streets of Guangzhou were filled with chaos, the monster destroyed everything in its path. Children and women were terrified, they had never experienced such a tragedy before. It devoured everything in sight in a beastly manner. It picked up houses like they were nothing and pulled the trees from the ground like they were toys. Guangzhou became a war zone. Courageous men fought against the hideous creature using stones, rocks, and arrows but its skin was as hard as a coat of armour, grisly crumbled and folded, gigantic scales laid on his concave skin like large rocks on a mountain. One brave soldier shot the creature right in its heart and it reeled backwards, diving back into the deep ocean. Many citizens thought that the monster was gone forever, but they were wrong… A village chief from Hong Kong wanted to stop the monster from attacking, he gathered all the villagers to the village square and made an announcement. He said seriously, ‘Perhaps we have angered the sea goddess Guanyin, she had created this horrendous monster to attack us. I know an old man from the high mountains of Tai Mo Shan, we must find him, he might be able help us to eliminate the monster. However, I need a brave person to go on this mission.’ Voices babbled inside the crowd, everyone discussed who should go on this dangerous quest. After some time, a young man fearlessly volunteered. ‘Thank you Chan Siu Ming!’ clapped the village chief, ‘However, you have to go on foot to show your sincerity to our goddess Guanyin. You must return by sundown tomorrow, or else, the monster may return and destroy our city.’ Siu Ming nodded bravely and set on his journey. During Siu Ming’s journey to the mountains, he heard a wretched cry in the woods. He went closer to find out where the sound came from. Siu Ming saw a gorgeous big bird, injured and caught in a hunter’s trap. Siu Ming kindly released the bird and helped it bind its wound. The bird having earned its freedom happily flew away.

As Siu Ming reached the peak of Tai Mo Shan, he saw a cave. As he stepped into the cave, his shadow dissolved into the surrounding darkness. A kind old man’s voice cut through the darkness asking him of his intent. Siu Ming replied nervously and it asked Siu Ming to look at the ground. A beautiful flower appeared and it was dazzling and alluring, the petals were pink and red and a sunshine yellow in the middle - a natural beauty on fire. Siu Ming held the tiny bauhinia in his palms, then challenged the man, ‘How can this puny flower help me get rid of the monster?’ The old man explained, ‘This is no ordinary flower, it is a bauhinia. When the monster arrives, simply place it into the water, there will be magic. But remember young man, this flower may only touch the ocean and your own hands, or else, its magnificent magic shall be gone.’ Siu Ming became curious and questioned him, ‘Well, then do you know the origin of the monster? Is the Guanyin mad?’ ‘Guanyin is mad because of the water pollution. After several years, the Pearl River Delta became a filthy habitat for sea creatures. Guanyin used trash and dirt from the ocean to assemble a monster as punishment. By using the bauhinia I gave you, the monster shall vanish forever. Citizens like you must clean the ocean, or else the monster might appear again.’

Siu Ming thanked the sage, and quickly returned to his village.

W

Fiction: Group 3

As the village chief had predicted, the monster arrived just as Siu Ming returned. Gigantic waves smashed ferociously onto the shore, sending sea water to flood the railways and roads. Thick clouds invaded the sky to bury the awakening sun like a great grey carpet, the sky changed from a beautiful blue to a monstrous black. Rain hammered down like a hail of bullets that overwhelmed the whole city. The monster roared, showing its teeth as sharp as daggers, and all the citizens quaked with fear. Siu Ming knew that it was his duty to save Hong Kong, he, holding the flower, dragged himself to the harbour.

The trek was difficult in the flooded city, Siu Ming became exhausted, but no one was there to help him. He tripped, ‘No!’ he thought, ‘if the bauhinia falls, its magic shall disappear, I must catch it… but I can’t!’ At this moment, a long orange beak picked up the bauhinia, it was a bird. Siu Ming looked at its familiar eyes and suddenly remembered, ‘You must be the bird that I saved yesterday.’ Tears of happiness rolled down Siu Ming’s raw cheeks.. Siu Ming patted the bird and asked, ‘If you want to thank me for saving you last time, fly me to the harbor, please?’ The bird put Siu Ming on its back and flew to the harbour.

As Siu Ming placed the bauhinia into the ocean, the flower changed from bright red to a gleaming shade of gold, the middle of the bauhinia shone with sparkling silver light, ‘This must be the magic,’ Siu Ming thought, he was stunned by the powerful magic. In a flash, the flower grew from palm size to forty-storeys high, Siu Ming was awe-struck, the scene was magnificent, he hadn’t seen such a big flower before. The bauhinia was twice the size of the monster, the monster was shocked like Siu Ming. It contracted itself into a huge ball of blackness. The bauhinia then worked like an extremely vigorous vacuum cleaner, inhaling deeply, sending dirt, shingles, and rubbish inside its mouth. The bauhinia’s inhalation lifted the enormous monster into midair, it struggled with all its might, roaring uncontrollably but it wasn’t able to escape the bauhinia’s powerful clutches. The monster disappeared into the centre of the bauhinia.

Just as the monster was consumed, the bauhinia shrank into a golden statue. A silvery daylight shone through the thick clouds, then scattered away, revealing the bright azure skies. The sun shone brightly in the brilliance of the day, burnishing the shimmering water which reflected like crystals. The sunlight filled the harbour with warm sensations, it shone into every window in the town, and the citizens gradually opened up their doors to see what was happening. The citizens were amazed when they saw the fascinating wonder, an arc of colours hung from the sky, and they cheered over the marvelous sight. A voice cut through the crowd, ‘Chan Siu Ming, we all thank you for your bravery; we shall give anything you want. What would you like?’ Siu Ming humbly replied ‘Actually, it wasn’t only just my bravery, thanks to the bauhinia, it vanquished the monster, bringing us peace! I wish to put the bauhinia statue into the village square, so that everyone can always remember it. Moreover, we must cooperate to clean the oceans, or else the monster might attack us again.’ The village chief patted Siu Ming’s back.

After that day, peace roamed the land. People in the Pearl River Delta collaborated to stop water pollution. As for the golden bauhinia stature, it stood mightily in the village square, which was afterwards named ‘Golden Bauhinia Square’. To glorify the importance of the bauhinia, the flower became Hong Kong’s city flower. The Pearl River Delta became one of the leading economic regions and the main manufacturing areas in the world, and Hong Kong was the glory of China.

Fiction: Group 3

Tales of the Pearl River Delta Po Leung Kuk Choi Kai Yau School, Lee, Rachael - 13, Fiction: Group 3

arkness and the still air hovered over me. The sound of the car engine rumbled. A long, eerie silence took my breath away from me. Inside a car boot, surrounded by a foul smell, laid a fragile young girl. Me. My heart thumped wildly. Tears streamed down my cheek. I cried desperately for

my family. But it was no use. I had been kidnapped. Days before, I had been gazing out of my school’s dusty window, and stared at the enchanting river from a great distance. It was shimmering, like thousands of diamonds, as the waves reflected the sunlight. Papa used to take me to the river, I recalled, as tears the size of gumdrops rolled down my flushed cheeks. He used to carry me on his back, and run along the side of the shining water. I would shriek as he threw me high into the air and caught me every time. My papa died when I was seven and when Lian was two. He never told anyone of his heart disease, and one day, he just died. We were devastated. Mama needed a man to work for money and food, so she married my current step-papa Zhong. “Jia! Please pay attention!” I woke up from my daydreams at a start and brushed my tears off my cheeks. I got a glimpse of the river again, which carried memories of my papa and I, flowing for thousands of miles, deep into my broken heart. “Dinner’s ready!” Mama’s voice rang out in the hollow corridor. My heart felt a pang of longing for the old days, when I sat on papa’s broad shoulders, taking in deep breaths of air, listening to the water blown by the summer wind. “ Jia! Come down for dinner please!” mama shouted in an annoyed tone. I shook the thoughts out of my head. I settled down on the rigid plastic chair and stared down at the watery, nauseous smelling liquid in my bowl. Not cabbage soup again! I scowled at the sight of it. “Jia, don’t scrunch up your eyebrows like that! If you don’t want to drink this healthy and delicious soup, go to your room and skip dinner!” My step-papa bellowed threateningly. “How dare he!” was all I could think of the lividness that boiled inside of me. Tears of frustration welled up, my fists clenched and my teeth gritted so hardly that I tasted the metallic taste of blood. I stormed into the room and shut my bedroom door with a loud bang. My family sat there open mouthed at my queer attitude, for I have never behaved in such a way before. “I loathe this family!” I sobbed as I punched my fist into my pillow. It was a typical Tuesday. I dragged my entire body from my bed. My eyes were puffy from crying and my throat was as dry as a scorched desert. My cheeks were flushed with embarrassment as I trudged into the kitchen. Mama was spreading butter on my piece of burnt toast. I muttered a thank you when she passed the plate to me. Perched on the sofa, I flicked through the television channels and the words “Pearl Delta” caught my eye. A news reporter was seated in front of the camera and she said in a pleasant voice: “Good morning! Lately there have been several kidnapping cases in the Pearl Delta province. There have been four reports on child abduction. The children kidnapped tend to be aged from three to thirteen. Please be alert around when travelling.” The piece of chewed toast in my hanging mouth dropped onto the carpet. A shiver ran up my spine. Soon dragging my backpack behind me, my sister and I kissed our parents goodbye, then we headed off to school hand in hand. Little did we know that would be our farewell kiss. Our walk to school was like any other, Lian lapsing behind me followed by my occasional chides at her dilly dallying. A sudden rustle of the bamboo leaves beside me sounded. “What was that?” I glanced nervously in the direction where the sound came from. “Calm down Jia, it’s probably just the wind.” I said reassuringly to myself. I heard a series of crunches of the long forgotten twigs and branches on the moist ground. Crunch. Rustle. Crunch. Crackle. Lian’s whining stopped abruptly. Something was definitely wrong. I spun my head around to find she had vanished into thin air. “Lian? Where are you? Lian? Come out right this instant!” I cried, as my voice started to quiver with anxiety. This was not happening. A split second later, icy hands covered my mouth, I saw flashes of black and the strong smell of alcohol. There were at least two men, one grabbing my arms and one grabbing my legs. I thrust my hands about and shrieked at the top of my feeble lungs, but it was no use. I had been taken.

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They threw me into a repugnant car boot as I kicked and hit aimlessly. I was as weak as a newborn, unable to move, laid in a cramped place. I was gasping, unable to breathe. The sound of the engine thundered like uncountable drums, the repetition of the sound making my ear drum explode. My tongue ran over my cracked lips, a mixture of bitterness and saltiness. A throbbing pain shot up in my hands, probably from the cuts and bruises. I was somehow drowsy, and the tears welled up in my eyes were blurring my sight. I inched forward to find my own sister, reclined, her breathing slow and steady. I reached out my raw hand, shaking, as I pushed her fragile body on her back. “Lian?” I stuttered. “Lian!” I repeated, this time louder as I stoked her hair softly. No response. I looked at her slender face, eyes shut, face relaxed. Like she was in a deep sleep. I may have lost her forever. “I should not have let go of her hand! This would not have happened if I made the right move! This is my fault! I’m so sorry Lian. I… I love you with all my heart, and now I’ve lost you forever.” I mumbled, breaking into a cold sweat. Her breath had stopped all at once, and she was surely to be dead. My tears fell and splattered on her pale lifeless cheeks, as I cried my eyes out. “She will be up there with papa now, in heaven.” The car’s engine died down and the car boot opened. The sunlight blinded my eyes. I had no idea how long I was stuck in this car boot, traveling miles and miles away from home. Three men stood in front of me. One was rather stout and had a potbelly. One was tall and boney. One was muscular and looked fierce, with more ink than skin on his body. They were all examining me with their beady and evil eyes. “We should throw them out.” The man with a potbelly whispered to the muscular one. “ One’s dead and the other don’t cost much. She’s not going to survive the journey from here to Foshan by boat. “Please don’t do this to me!” I mumbled as my eyes shut, letting go of all hope. Suddenly, hands grabbed me by the waist. My heart pounded as quickly as a runaway train. Forcing my eyes wide open, I saw they were heading for the Pearl. My limbs flew into action, kicking and shouting. They were running now, towards the stunning river. A loud splash filled the air. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lian, flying, mid air, and landing headfirst into the glistening water. “Lian!” I screamed, my heart shattering into millions of pieces. “Lian!” I bawled, my voice hoarse. Thrashing my limbs with the left over energy, I broke away from the men who were carrying me and ran to the side of the river. My feet pounded the ground as I heard the shouting men. I ran as swiftly as my tiny legs could carry me. I could feel my heartbeat pounding against my chest, panting as I reached the bank. “Lian!” I called one last time. There was no use. She was already gone. My knees gave way as I collapsed onto the muddy ground, my tattered clothes stained by the dirt. Approaching footsteps were getting louder by the second. I turned around and saw the three men, gaining on me. I decided to let go. I heard a splash as I plummeted into the river. I wanted to be with papa and Lian. I sank, my weight pulling me down, to the depths of the river. I sank into the depths of the Pearl River Delta, where our memories shall remain.

Fiction: Group 3

Tales of the Pearl River Delta Po Leung Kuk Choi Kai Yau School, Lo, Christy - 13, Fiction: Group 3

woke up with an eerie feeling. Everything was unusually quiet. I couldn’t hear the sound of my younger sisters arguing over unimportant things like every other morning, and the sounds of cars buzzing around. I couldn’t smell the herby scent of omelets that my mom cooked every Monday

morning, and the smell of dad’s coffee. I got up and went to the living room, only to find no one at all. I opened the doors to every room there was in my apartment, then I realised I was alone. This was all very bizarre. “Come out now, it’s not funny,” I shouted in disbelief. There was no reply. I looked around the living room, and everything looked untouched and clean. However, some things were missing. The blue inkblots put on the curtains by my sisters were gone, and the piano mom gave me for my birthday disappeared. It felt like every piece of evidence of my family ever existed was gone. Disturbingly, when I turned to look at the framed family picture that sat comfortably on the table, I saw myself and myself only, smiling at the camera. Everyone I remembered in the picture was gone. I was the only person in the photograph. I pinched myself to see if I was dreaming. Apparently not. This was all too elaborate to be a prank, and that thought was what troubled me the most. I followed my instincts. I grabbed the keys and headed out to find my family. I opened the door in the lobby and stepped out to the road, only I did not step on hard concrete, I stepped on the body of a boy. I looked down and saw four people, lying on the floor lifelessly. There was a girl about my age, a very young girl about 5 years old and two boys who looked a bit older than me. I was in shock. There were dead bodies outside the door of the lobby. The boy started coughing. I shrieked and backed away. He stood up and walked closer to me. It turned out he wasn’t dead afterall. “Wher aam I? Whot aam I doing on the street?” asked the boy with his eyes half opened. I could tell from the accent he wasn’t from here. “You’re in Hong Kong,” I replied, “Who are you?” “I’m Elliot. Aand I can’t be in Hong Kong. I aam pretty sure I’m in Shenzhen. Whot’s your name?” he asked in a laid-back tone as he fixed his messy dark hair. It seemed clear to me he didn’t really know something was wrong. “I’m Britt, and you are definitely in Hong Kong,” He walked towards me, “Now, Britt, Hong Kong caan’t be this quiet. We’re in a ghost town,” “Everyone disappeared. In fact I don’t even know if they ever existed,” “Whot do you mean by that?” “Back in the apartment everything my family gave me is gone, and in a family photo I am the only one left in the picture,” He looked too confused to say anything. “That’s really weird. Good luck finding them,” he turned his head and widened his eyes as he looked at the other boy lying on the street, “Bro! Delsin!” Elliot shook him wildly to wake him up. “Hey, why am I on the street?” said the boy who just woke from his deep sleep. “I don’t know but you’re lucky to still be here. Britt doesn’t even know where her family is. Britt, this is my brother Delsin,” Elliot introduced him to me.

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“Wherr are mom and dad?” Delsin asked. “Disappeared like everybody else. I’ll explain later,” Elliot looked down as he said that,” We woke everybody else on the floor. Now there are five of us. Elliot, Delsin, a grumpy girl called Alice, and a 5-year-old called Annie. I invited everyone to stay at my home, just because they did not have anywhere else to stay in for the night. As we started chatting we noticed we had something in common. Elliot and Delsin are from Shenzhen, Alice and Annie were from Guangzhou. We were all from the Pearl River Delta. It was clear to us that we might be the only ones left in Hong Kong, if not the whole world. “Britt! “Britt! Help!” I was woken up the next morning by the cries of Alice. I was shocked the moment I saw what was happening. Alice’s arms were transparent. I could still see them very faintly, but the colour of her arms was getting lighter and lighter by each second. “Oh my god,” I said, rushing towards her trying to grab her arm, but my hand went straight through hers. Within seconds her arms disappeared completely, and her body dissolved into the air bit by bit. “What’s happening to me?” Alice said as she panted. “It’s going to be okay,” I tried to comfort her, although I knew this whole situation was far from ‘okay’. Delsin and Elliot rushed over trying to help, while Annie just sat in the corner of the room looking at us. As we picked up Alice she was weightless. “The cells in her body must be decomposing...um...because of...matter…” Elliot said trying to provide an explanation. “English!” I shouted, desperate to know what he was trying to say. “Sorry, I like science, but I have no clue,” replied Elliot, sounding concerned. She faded away, all of her. We froze, not knowing what to do about it. We were too afraid to even talk about it afterwards. Weeks passed by and my family was still missing. I was lucky to have spent these weeks with friends, rather than spending it alone. We were alive because of a supermarket nearby, which provided us with all the food and water we needed. The main objective for us was to stay alive, instead of finding the people who we thought to have existed. A month later, we went into the apartment. The moment I closed the door, random holes appeared on the floor one by one. They were not small holes, holes more than big enough to fit a human. They looked very deep, I couldn’t see the bottom of the hole, it was engulfed by darkness. “Elliot! Britt! Get me out of here!” I heard Delsin screaming for help. We looked and saw his fingers gripping on the edge of the hole. We tried to get to him, but I tripped and slowed us down. Elliot helped me up and as he did I looked over and saw Delsin’s fingers slip one by one. We ran, but not fast enough. He fell. I heard the echoes of his screams as he fell deeper and deeper. “Delsin!” Elliot yelled down the hole with tears running down his face. He was enraged. Elliot sat on the edge of the hole, with his feet dangling down the hole, planning to jump down. I immediately pulled him back. I couldn’t lose anymore of my friends. “Are you crazy?” I shouted at Elliot. He stood up and walked away from the hole. “Britt! Elliot! Get me out!” I heard Annie’s high-pitched voice in the background. I looked up to see Annie standing on a spot with a huge gap in front of her. I wasn’t sure if she could get out alive.

Fiction: Group 3

“You have to jump!” I shouted across the living room. “I can’t!” “Think of it as hopscotch! It’ll be okay,” added Elliot. Annie was shaking. She took a few steps back, and then jumped over the huge gap that was in front of her. We ran out of the apartment and escaped. We got out and looked up to the sky. It was raining. It would’ve been better if it was raining water, but it was raining rocks. It felt like the whole world was tumbling down on us. Just in the moment we were completely baffled by this world we were in, a voice spoke. We did not know where it came from but it was loud. It wasn’t a human voice, but a robotic voice. “Simulation invaded by unknown virus. Simulation will be turned off in 10 minutes,” said the voice. “What does she mean by that?” I asked Elliot. “I think it means our world exists in a computer and this world we are living in…well…might not exist,” he replied. “Beings are aware that this is a simulation. Simulation failed to function,” “This simulation must be so advanced we didn’t know all this time. They way Alice died, the holes appearing on the floor, the disappearance of everyone, and the raining rocks must be a result of the virus,” Elliot added. “Turning off Pearl River Delta simulation,” said the robotic voice. Everything turned black. I couldn’t see Elliot and Annie. I felt myself floating, paralysed, but unafraid. I felt the calmness I hadn’t felt in a long time, and it was all that mattered.

Fiction: Group 3

Tales of the Pearl River Delta Po Leung Kuk Choi Kai Yau School, Sit, Christy - 13, Fiction: Group 3

aves of wind swept past his face, and uncountable water droplets falling down from the sky formed a translucent beaded curtain. A man stroked his soaked wet white beard. He sat there, shivering, in the cold, inhospitable Pearl River Delta…

He was the clockwork machine man. ******

“Mr. Cogwheel. This job is now yours.” That sentence was what made me work like the Titan Atlas, supporting the deadly weight of Pearl River Delta, and giving me pressure every milliseconds in my whole lifetime.

My responsibility seemed easier than ever, that was what I thought at first. All I had to do was to protect the Pearl River Delta clockwork gear machine. I was the one who had to check whether all the gears were working properly every day and night. The nonstop running of the machine meant that the cities in the delta, Hong Kong, Shenzhen and Guangzhou, were developing. Each gear was important, because if one were damaged, the whole gear machine would break down, and eventually, the Pearl River Delta would just stop and be doomed in time.

I wasn’t worried about the stopping of the gear machine. In fact, I was pleased to see that the gears were all working properly, and never believed the pace of the running gears would change. How could they? That was a question that I’ve regretted asking…

Everyday, I watched the horizon of hundreds of houses lining and stretching along the bark of the Pearl River. The river looked like a cyan blue slithering snake, and its skin shimmered in the warm sunlight. The air was fresh and pure. Green paddy fields of mustard with yellow flowers waved in the cool breeze. One by one, like the unfolding of blooming flower petals, windows of each house flung open, exposing colorful interiors and filling the streets with the exuberance of life. Young women rushed out to the little markets, as the shopkeepers opened up their linear array of shops. They would wander slowly in the markets to look at the fabulous products traded through the Silk Road.

“Hi! Mr. Cogwheel!” A child waved at me gracefully as he walked by. “Hello there, little kid!” I smiled and winked at him. Most of the people knew me. They knew that I was the protector of the clockwork machine.

White dolphins were the famous animals of the Pearl River Delta. You could often see them swimming around, streamlined. Sometimes they would leap out of the water, and wave at you with their dorsal fins. They were friendly and intelligent, like the people then in Pearl River Delta. Human on land, dolphins in water, that was the perfect combination of the delta.

During the festivals of the Teochew culture, everyone would go out to the street and celebrated together. Some would go out and watch music operas, known for their uniqueness. Joy was everywhere. And I would repaint the gears one by one, peeking at the smiling faces between the holes in each gear…

Everything was fine and in order. Until one day. “We didn’t kill…” said a skinny man. “No, we didn’t,” interrupted a well-built man. The room was filled with eerie echoes of wrongfulness. The well-built man went over to the clock

machine, and touched the metal gears, with a sardonic grin on his face. The gears felt cool, as if they didn’t welcome the strangers. “Nice and neat.”

“Make the clockwork machine go faster! We’ve got to compete with other cities!” said the scrawny man.

They looked at each other. A devious, sinister smile distorted their faces. I could hear those voices, but I couldn’t recognize them. Wake up, I told myself. I knew it had to be a dream, but my eyelids seemed to sewed shut, and

wouldn’t open at all. I tried to pinch my arm, and counted to three. Yet, when I felt the hungering cold of the ground leeching the warmth on me, I realised it was no dream. I felt dizzy, as if the world were full of gears, going round and round.

When my eyes slowly fluttered opened, I hauled myself into a sitting position. There were two men standing next to the gears, and the one who was well built was turning the gears forcefully! How did I let

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them in? What are they doing? Millions of questions popped up in my brain, but there wasn’t any time for me to think and hesitate anymore. With all my strength, I pulled myself up. A sudden pain struck the back of my neck.

“Hey, bud. Our little friend has woken,” chortled the slender man. “What are you doing?” I asked. “To make the Pearl River Delta a better place. To speed up the economic development, to transform!

Transform it into the world’s largest consumer markets,” said the thinner man. “No. No one has the rights to do that. All cities in the Pearl River Delta develop gradually. It will

eventually grow to…” “We need the cities to grow now!” shouted the stronger man. “We need this stupid machine to run

faster!” “That’s utterly selfish, greedy and stupid,” I rebutted. “Everything needs a balance. If you turn the

gears to make the machine run faster, there would be disastrous consequences! If the machine runs too fast…”

The stronger man slapped me hard on the face, and I fell onto the ground. “Stop choking and throwing up your useless words! No one now cares about that anymore. Bring him out, bud! He’s now apparently futile…we’ve still got work to do.”

“You’ll regret…” I tried to explain while I struggled to regain my composure, but I fainted, only hearing the harsh and unforgettable last words said by the stronger man, ‘In a selfish world, the selfish succeeds’…

I kept telling myself that all was a dream when I woke up. I’ve found myself lying on an unfamiliar ground. I didn’t know what the time was or even the year. All I felt was that I must have grown old.

I pulled myself up, and looked around. No, no…this could not be, I whispered to myself, as I felt the short hairs along the nape of my neck raising.

Houses and villages were all gone. The Pearl River I saw didn’t reflect little huts anymore. There were tall building blocks instead, so tall that you couldn’t see the top in the reflection. I could never imagine what those building blocks are and the uses of the blocks. And I could also never imagine that a thing could be so tall and high, as if it had already reached the clouds in the sky. I was lost for words and absolutely dumbstruck, until I found myself gawking and being stared at.

“Mum…who is that weird man over there?” an innocent looking little girl grasped her mother’s dress and kept tugging. Her mother stared at me with crossed eyebrows, and quickly grabbed her daughter’s hand, pulling her away, as if I were a hazard. I wanted to speak out for myself, but I only found myself gesturing. People continued to look at me vacantly as they walked pass. I didn’t know why…maybe I was the one who got lost in time, with the old fashioned clothes, and being the only one stopping in a fast, developing city.

Pearl River was not as beautiful as it was before. There was often heavy smog smothering along the river. Instead of a greenish blue peacock color, I found it murky and darkish green, with white patches of things lying on top and clumps of mud swamping the lake. The saddest thing of all was that white dolphins were gone. I couldn’t see them anymore. I thought dolphins and humans were friends, but now the dolphins are forced to leave.

I walked in between the building blocks and factories. I saw weird-shaped transportation and heavy industrial manufacturing factories. There were complex network of roads, and there were constructions of large-built bridges, connecting between the cities, Hong Kong and Macau Traditions and culture seemed to disappear in thin air, and joy was covered up in the grey clouds and smoke. Deep in my mind, I could imagine the gears in the clockwork machine running in an unbearable speed. I could imagine the gears rusting and would break down one day.

Everything is different and is going on too fast. I sometimes ask myself am I the one lost in time, or is it the people in the cities? Am I still dreaming, or maybe everything in the past was just a dream? But there is a thing that I am clearly certain of: human intelligence is polluted by its nature, and this pollution is rapidly spreading.

And now, I sit here, in a place that was once familiar…Pearl River Delta.

Fiction: Group 3

Tales of the Pearl River Delta Po Leung Kuk Choi Kai Yau School, To, Charlie - 12, Fiction: Group 3

an glanced at her watch. 2.47 pm, the watch face read. She scowled. Her friend Ching was late, as usual. Wiping the beads of sweat from her

face, she made a mental note to tell Ching off. Waiting in the busy, crowded streets in Mongkok was torture. She sat down on a park bench and whipped out her phone. Three o’clock. Where is Ching? She grumbled. She’s never this late. Exasperated and annoyed, she called Ching’s mobile. The call went straight to voicemail. Silently swearing under her breath, she called Ching’s home. “Hello?” A man’s voice said. Ching’s father. Yan was scared of him; he was strict. Taking a deep breath, she asked, “Sir, is Ching at home? She’s 30 minutes late.”

“I thought she was at your flat! She never came back since she left home yesterday.” She could clearly hear worry in his voice. It was the first time she had ever heard any form of emotion in his voice.

Her stomach did a flip. “Never came back?” “Yeah. We sort of had a fight… can you help look for

her? I know you’re her best friend. You know her better than we do.” “I’ll try my best.” She replied, and killed the call. Where would Ching be? She wracked her brain for ideas. She had searched for her in their secret

hiding place in the playground, the school canteen, her other friends’ homes, her favorite restaurant “Ming Kee”, even at the pier, where she liked to stare at the sea; she was lost for ideas. Closing her eyes, she tried to recall any possibilities.

The studio! She suddenly realized. Of course, her secret studio! Why didn’t I think of it earlier? Ching

had saved up her money to rent an art studio months ago. Hopping onto a bus, she soon arrived at the dark building. Running up the flights of stairs, she

thought of what to say. Where were you? What happened? Are you okay? Should I get you some food? Please, go home. Your father’s worried sick.

The door was slightly open. She pushed it open. At a huge table sat Ching, painting a breathtaking

picture of a girl lost in her dance. The huge pile of used tissues at the side suggested she had been crying. After watching for a while, Yan finally found her voice. “Ching? You okay?” Making her voice as gentle as possible, she looked at her concernedly. “What happened?”

Ching jumped. Regaining her composure, her features settled into an indifferent mask. “What? Are

you here to make me return to that hellhole? If you are, I suggest you leave. I am so not going back to that monster of a father.”

“Oh, Ching. What did he do to you?” Yan sat down on an empty chair. A mirthless laugh bubbled from her. “You know it. The usual.” Ching pushed up her sleeves, exposing angry red marks. She unraveled her scarf, took off her beanie,

lifted up her pant legs. They were covered with marks as well. Yan could only breathe a horrified “Oh…” at the disturbing sight.

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Ching lowered her head. Yan rummaged her bag for bandages, and started cleaning her wounds. Ching didn’t resist. When they were done, Ching tried to smile and thank her, but her smile was forced. Suddenly she was in tears, sobbing uncontrollably as Yan tried to comfort her. “Dad doesn’t care about my dreams at all, he wants me to be a successful businesswoman. Why can’t he let me choose my future? All I want to be is an artist, not a boring office lady!” She cried and cried like a broken, vulnerable little girl. Yan found herself crying too.

They hugged and cried. Ching clung on to Yan as if she were her only life support. After calming

down, Yan looked up at Ching. Fire was burning behind her eyes in anger for her friend’s mistreatment. “Prove to him. Prove to him that you can choose what to do for yourself, prove to him that art is your road to success.”

Ching spoke, with new strength. “Yeah. I’m totally gonna show him that I’m the boss of myself, not

him.”

Yan moved into Ching’s art studio, watching her finish her breathtakingly beautiful painting. When she finished, Yan persuaded her to enter the piece for the international art competition. Weeks passed. They waited impatiently for the results. One day, they received a letter from the judge panel, informing them of their entry into the finals. “I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” Yan was screaming and squealing. For the first time in months, Ching was beaming from ear to ear in pride. Since she was a child, all her art teachers had praised her for being “extremely talented in art, a prodigy.” Her perseverance all those years had finally paid off. Reporters and journalists interviewed her; she was elated. At night, she saw herself in the news. She was the only Chinese contestant to enter the finals. She scribbled in her diary: I’ve never felt so happy. In the finals! Gosh.

On the other hand, Ching’s father knew his daughter was safe from a call from Yan. He was informed that she wouldn’t be coming home soon. It had been weeks since he had seen her, and he was angry. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he turned on the news. “The annual International Young Artists’ Competition’s results have been announced—”

He downed the beer as if it were water. “—This year, they received 19738 entries from around the world. 10 outstanding pieces were

selected by the judges. This year, a young artist from Hong Kong has successfully entered the finals. Let’s interview her.”

Ching’s sweet smiling face entered the camera. Ching? What? “What inspired you to paint this

amazing piece?” the reporter asked. “My father never liked it when I brought up my dreams of being an artist—he wanted me to inherit

and run his company. All I wanted was to be free. I found beauty in her posture, like a bird leaning on its claws, ready to spread its wings and fly. My wish since I was a child was simply for him to change his mind, let me fly and follow my dreams…”

His eyes were rimmed with tears. All those years, he had never noticed her gifted artworks, paid no

attention to her teachers’ praise. Whenever she brought up her dream of being an artist, he yelled at her to “get real, did she think she could be successful with a job like that?”. The night she ran away, he caught her sketching. He laughed at her, calling her “a stupid little girl who knows nothing.” She told him that “he was the stupid one”, and in a fit of rage, he grabbed an umbrella and beat her until she wrenched free and ran out the door.

“Lin, I’ve screwed it all up. I can’t even be a good dad.” He said to his dead wife’s photo.

Fiction: Group 3

“Oh, Ching… I really was the stupid one. I’m sorry… Can you come back? I miss you—” A muffled sob rang from behind the door. He opened the door. Ching was standing at the door,

holding a duffel bag of her belongings, covering her mouth as she wept. She looked up in alarm. He took her in his arms. “I’m sorry, I wish I could’ve realized earlier. Go be an artist—I believe in you. Don’t give up. Your old man is here for you.” His voice softened. “That night, did it hurt? I’m so sorry…” He burst in sobs. It was the first time he cried that hard since Ching’ s mother died.

Yan dabbed at her own tears. Father and daughter reunited. Back at the studio, she started to write

Ching’s story on her blog.

This is the story of a girl who fought to follow her dreams despite her father’s disagreements…

Fiction: Group 3

Tales of the Pearl River Delta Po Leung Kuk Choi Kai Yau School, Woodward, James - 13, Fiction: Group 3

n the bank of the river delta known as the Pearl River delta, stood a boy in his early teens. He was 15, he had the muscular build of a well-rounded boy, he was handsome and smart, but he had one downfall, he had never been to school. To him, school was a waste of time, a place where so

called knowledgeable adults constantly tell you what to do, he hated and despised school, not because of the teachers or the homework, but because he thought it took away creativity, as the endless lessons welded your brain to dust, slowly and gradually you would forget about the things that really mattered. Warwick secondary school was a special type of school, it was close to the river bank and so children would come out and play beside the cool and soothing water. This school was cheap, dirty cheap. The principal was a man who was all money; he would sacrifice everything to get more of his precious money he wanted so much and because of his ruthless acts of cruelty, it would one day lead to an accident that would change his life forever. In the basement of the house six blocks away, a group of men who called themselves the Serpents were having a lively discussion. They were planning on building a bridge over the Pearl River delta that would connect both sides of the river delta. This project was to completed by a company called seid constructions, this company was funded by the Serpents 10 years ago and they have developed into a growing company with businesses. The boy, standing next to the river gushing and swallowing the sunshine it was constantly being fed, his name was Alex. Alex knew something that others did not, and the knowledge that he held was a burden, something he tried to forget every time he fell asleep. It was a normal day in March and he was busy not going to school, he was walking on the sidewalk when he heard some screams of horror coming from the schools rooftop. He frantically rushed into the school compound and raced up the stairs, he had been here before, and he was familiar with the place. The shouting had now stopped, and Alex got to the roof just in time to see the principal and another man haul a lifeless body into a storage room. Alex held his breath as they passed him and walked down the stairs, they had not even noticed him hiding behind the stairs. Alex saw his chance and he grabbed it immediately, once they were gone he slowly and silently crept towards the storage room in a hope that he would find the missing body that the principal and man had hauled inside. He tried the doorknob, it wasn’t locked, good. He walked inside and he turned on the light, what he saw astonished him, a great big pipe was set into the wall in front of him, he was scared but he had to uncover the truth and so he overcame his fears and sled down the pipe that would take him to the body. The pipe was made of hard plastic that was baby blue and looked very friendly, but once he got to the end of the ride, he knew he was in for something bad. He looked around; all he saw was cardboard boxes that had a serpentine entwined around a gun. This scared him, for he wondered if it was possible he had found the serpent headquarters. Many assassinations had occurred in the last two years and they all led to the serpentine, however nobody was able to find out what and where it was happening until now. Two men with guns walked at a fast pace towards him. Alex quickly ducked behind an enormous box that would hide him completely. The two men had passed he ran towards the security doors and hid behind a shelf next to it, he would need to get in and to do so he needed a passcode that would open the doors to the mystery. A smart looking man who was walking down the aisle now would also need a passcode, he dialled 7145 and the door opened. Alex knew what to do now, he waited until the man had passed then walked up to the door and input the keys of the code. 7145 and the doors were open. What now lay in front of him was horrific, three men were poking a child with hot irons and were forcing him to talk into a phone. Alex guessed what it was, ransom. The serpents had owned seid constructions but it was no warehouse, it was a lab that contained more than ten test subjects, some were weak and some were still struggling in the chains. Alex had to do something or these children would die and millions of dollars would be taken by the serpentine and used for many more terrible things. Then he saw the principal, he was dressed in a jet black suit with a snake mask that covered his head and a gun that had a test tube encased inside it that would do terrible things to people. Alex had waited for three hours, his legs were stiff and wobbly, and his head was getting sleepy. He was afraid of moving in case the men saw him and captured him with the rest of them. After another thirty five minutes of gruelling stillness, the men finally left and closed the door behind them, Alex moved from

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his hiding spot and walked towards the wall of chains, most were knocked out and a few of them bled. With a swift glance he edged closer towards a table and found a bundle of keys that he presumed were to unlock the chains. One by one unlocked the chains and some children instantly ran while others collapsed to the floor in fear. After a long hour he finally managed to get the children out through a secret hatch he had found in the wall and outside into the dark. He was too occupied with getting the victims to safety that he never noticed the four cameras in the corners of the room that were constantly videoing and taking pictures of Alex’s face, the serpents knew, the principal was watching. The next day, he assumed the worst was over and that he would have a peaceful night’s sleep, but at around two o’clock in the morning he was hit on the head with a hammer and was knocked out instantly. He was taken to a lab where people with the serpentine symbol worked on him. When he woke up, he found that he was in a laboratory and nobody was in the room. He tried to move his arms and legs but he couldn’t because they were strapped to the desk. On his left however, he noticed a knife with a string attached to it. He tugged on the string and the knife came loose and cut his left arm strap which allowed him to move it about freely and undo his right arm strap. After two minutes of struggling, he was finally out and free to move. As he began to explore his murky prison, he stood next to a door and heard voices, holding a gun he had found after he escaped, he slowly and carefully walked down the steps and into a room. In the room, he saw three men, one of them the principal, they were talking about how to extract the chemicals from the water in the river delta. “Hey!” he shouted. “Hands up in the air, or ill shoot,” terrified, the three men walked towards him and out the door under my command. He tried calling the police but there was no reception, He saw a window and looked out and saw a fish. I understood why the police never did find serpentine headquarters and why my phone had no signal, it was because we were in fact under the delta. I dialled again and this time I got through. I told them the good news and they overjoyed by the fact that a kid had infiltrated the serpentine. The three men were arrested as well as the other serpentines who worked for them, as the police left, the offered me a word of thanks for keeping the peace next to the pearl river delta. No. I don’t think school is a waste of time. It was only because of my terrible past experiences that I have always tried to avoid the school life solely because of this. All those reasons, they aren’t true, I think school is a wonderful place and I am glad we have one. However I can’t go into one as all the memories will come floating back to me, and this is the story of the serpentine in tales of the Pearl river delta.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Pui Kiu College, Ko, Wendy - 14, Fiction: Group 3

e walked down the river bank in precarious strides as dawn washed over the delta, there was something enthralling in the way a new world took the old in it’s embrace, preserving it in memory, eventually to fade and come back in vivid remembrance as the curse of old age lays

upon us. He shook his head in frustration. Oh how sentimentality tormented him, how passion ruled over his life. He had once made the mistake of revealing his inner turmoil to his acquaintances, chasing them away with the monstrous insanity he fought to suppress when his façade tore away.

He stepped onto a meadow, a few meters from the river. The Pearl River was notoriously polluted, the sins of society had drifted into the water, turning it a most disagreeable color. It was cruel how Karma functioned, severing fate by turning one’s deeds against him, condemning those whose vivacity stem from the listless water to suffering. But he found peace in the Pearl River Delta; he found solace in mixing with the reprehensible. He found acceptance in the arms of the delta, and the consolation it offered enslaved him, the escape from his past shackled him. He was no longer his own being, but a shadow of his soul, marred with influences that bereaved him of his nature. The immoral power of mind has stripped him of the ability to burn with his natural passions, and drove his self away until he became merely an echo of the music he has once beheld.

He knew the musing only tethered him to his misery, but the authority of his soul did not reside with him. He could only sit, stumbling over his feet. His eyes wandered over the landscape, to him, all was obscurity. There was only the solitary path on which he sat on. He was in a queer harmony with himself as a sense of desolation settled upon him. In all likelihood, he would lose himself over to lunacy soon, but the small flicker of hope still sat in whatever rationality lingers with him. The Pearl River Delta was a place of occasion, and the game of odds was played in a different manner. He sighed, as a creature – which in his state of mind he couldn’t recognize – lapped at a trickle of dew. Darkness beckoned him, and he contentedly surrendered his consciousness.

She lived in the primitive settlement; she was solecistic, partially because of the locale of her home, and also by virtue of her lack of a hukou. She had a mother and nine elder sisters, all of whom have different fathers. In the absence of a son, the eldest sister was the champion of their mother’s much coveted attention. To a novice’s eyes, Da Jie was certainly beautiful: she was graced with a long, swanlike neck, a noble bust, and a fine head of raven black hair. Her features bore an unfrowned affinity to that of her mother’s: lips like the petals of a rose, dark eyes as brilliant as diamonds, skin as fair as lilies. But the haughty manner in which Da Jie carried herself was quite unpleasant. If the eldest sister’s domineering eyes ever fell on her by chance, they would withdraw forthwith, as the sister found her rather too undistinguished to warrant even observation. Da Jie’s heart was barren, she touted a dispirited pride and vindictive antipathy, her sardonic smile wiped away all traces of superficial beauty in her countenance. Yet her mother adored her, and gave her the concession of education and affection. The others were unadorned beings, and were too plain to merit consideration. She lived, with only the Pearl River as a nurturer. The Delta was her cradle, and the melodic flow of the water her lullaby. As childhood came, the riverbank became her nursery, and all it’s creations became her playthings. The murk that adolescence brought upon was led away by the river, and its alluvium enriched her mind. A morass of green moss germinate the waterfront, rich soil layered the terrain, the very place was a harmonic consonance, a manifestation of music with a hue of passion, youth, intellect. She felt loved when she was near the Pearl River, it washed away her tears and sorrows and replaced them with a simple hope and joy. Her fear of being disadvantageously palpable by her solecism was remedied by the absence of human communication. The Pearl River Delta that she knew seemed be a safe haven, and when the corruption from the dense network of cities found its way to the river, she was despondent. The magic from her harsh but joyful childhood seemed to float away as the river and its lands decayed. Her heart strained to hear the elegant notes of the Delta once more, but alas, the last hovering pitch had faded. The landscape grew coarse, and she had become a young woman, the Pearl River Delta no longer simulated alluring whims, the days when the river soothed her essence were bygone.

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She had grown into quite a handsome young woman, with a slight figure, a jetty mass of ringlets, and a cherry mouth. She was soon to be married off and relocated. She was morose and often wept, she took frequent strolls and her attention was riveted on her memory of the delta. She felt estranged and distant from the scenery, but nonetheless took an acute pleasure in looking at her cradle. “Ma! I’m going to the river!” She cried, knowing very well there’d be no answer. Da Jie did not hold her well being in regard, and mother reposed in her room, praying for providence to sustain her longer. She embarked again on the path to the heath, which was the treasure cove of all her fondest memories. She felt akin to it and took refuge in it whenever worries plagued her mind. She speculated again at the poignant poison she felt in the ambiance, how different it was from the sweet fragrance of nonage! She trekked on for a quarter of an hour until she saw her sanctuary, delicately decorated in flowers she had learnt to name over the years. As she approached the hollow, she gasped. He saw spots dance in a balletic routine, the grains of color caressed the rim of his eyes. He blinked at the decadence of all around him, a bloom that was no more perennial than he was, an isolated hollow in a most singular location, and a girl, not at all well apparelled, lapsed into deep reverie. She looked as if she had found tranquillity after antecedent consternation. There was something penetrating in her eye, as if it could pierce through his derangement and find acumen. He felt strangely sentient to the recesses of his self, and for once didn’t from mental disquiet. “Who are you?” He said with a strained air of serenity. He heard a quaint laugh in return. What a fresh, musical laugh! It reminded him of the continuity of water flow. There was no plethora of inanity as expected of a child with such beauty in her possession. “I am the child of the Pearl River, the fruition of its raw viridity and the griever of its corrosion.” Her gentle voice was quite remarkable; it was tainted with a protruding accent, a blend of the Canton dialect and a childlike drawl. She spoke eloquently, but with a strange absence of equanimity. “And I am the slave of my own fervour, a mere observer in my own head, a spirit marooned on an isle of the past, constantly reminded of my lost Elysium.” A silhouette of apprehension crossed her delicate features. He was startled by her astute perception, as she seemed to him uneducated. “You are young but seasoned. A curious concoction in human nature indeed! Enlighten me with your tale. I have not seen the world, and have only been nourished by the sun, never scorched by it.” She seemed to him a pure sunbeam, and spoke with such exquisite wonder in her eyes. “Ah, one with such untarnished innocence as you should not have to hear the story of a man like me, but come what may, I will tell it. I am an only child, born in Huizhou, near the West Lake. My parents were not wealthy, but they loved me. I grew up like a normal child, with materialistic desires and whatnot. Then my mother vanished. Later I understood that she had taken part in some movement that deeply undermined our core beliefs. I was only a boy, and couldn’t comprehend anything other than that the greater beings have taken the one dearest to me from me. I was possessed by grief and my father by drink, it was only afterwards did I perceive that I had lost not one but both of my parents. I spent the rest of my boyhood under the auspices of my aunt and uncle; I owe a debt to their zealous charity, without a doubt. But they have never showed me spontaneous, genuine compassion. Perhaps it was because I was vengeful and procured a lust for the murder of the deities who bore the fault of denying me love. I was dancing on the edge of hysteria, my friends shunned me, and psychologists could only prescribe numbing pills to ease my agony. No therapy could heal my sense of loss, no food could fill the gaping hole in my soul.” His monotonous tone cracked with anguish. He longed to retain this novel, piquant friendship, but his past chained his feelings. He was horribly afraid of love, he was afraid of being affectionate of ephemeral beings. Instead he diverted his inclinations to nature, but that came with a toll. He became attached to the Pearl River Delta, his passion dictated his behavior, and he was more of a lunatic than he was as a bloodthirsty youth. “Where is this place then?” She said in a tender but melancholic voice. He was shocked by her sudden change of subject, and pained by her blatantly exposed emotions, but nonetheless answered, “It is near Huizhou. It’s an undeveloped rural area in the eastern part of the Pearl River Delta. There is great significance in this cardinal direction. It is said that the east was a place where God intervened on behalf of His people, bringing them salvation. The sun rises in the east, bringing new beginnings, and locking the treacherous past into memory.”

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She saw the beginnings of perturbation unfurl around him, and was frightened but determined. Communication was a wonderful thing. She had interacted with the Pearl River and had discerned love. Now, she wanted to love. She placed her little white hands on the sides of his face and pressed her lips to his forehead, straining to remove his distress and instill upon him the clear water of springtide. She felt him shiver as all tension left his body. He was frail, and his demeanor was that of a child’s. She whispered words in a soothing rhythm, as if taming a beast. The injustice Da Jie and mother had shown reduced into a fleeting memory. For the first time in her life, she was not weak, nor was she the dependent. She had taken one disgraced from humanity into her bosom. Two people had found strength in each other, and concluded their reliance on the Pearl River Delta. For in its impartial eyes, everyone is given equal opportunities. Amidst the odds, the crippled and the crude are moving towards a better world, and the Pearl River Delta is depending on them.

Fiction: Group 3

The Pearl River Delta--The Magical Old Well Regents Secondary School of Shenzhen, Lin, Elenore - 14, Fiction: Group 3

very long time ago, there was a magical old well in the Pearl River Delta; but now, all it is left is a dried-up useless well. What has happened to the well? There is indeed a tale behind this: When the Pearl River Delta had just begun to develop, people simply focused on boundless

development in their cities and industries, but they had ignored all the negative impacts they had put upon the environment. Not long after, the surroundings of Pearl River Delta was so polluted that it was totally outrageous. A few years went by like a click; people finally came to realization that they had brought forth all these pollutions to their environment and they started doing everything they could in attempt to stop or alleviate the pollution. Some of the families even needed to abandon their homes as the condition was beginning to get to a point that it was beginning to put negative health impacts to the villagers. There came a young indigenous man from a small village in the Pearl River Delta. His name was Jo. Land developers had bought his village and within a flash of time his old village was nothing like how it was. The cozy village houses were replaced by skyscrapers and most of the farming fields were turned into shopping malls and commercial centres. Jo did not like these changes at all. He wished everything could be like how they were in the past – when things were simple, but beautiful. Deep down in Jo's heart, he knew very well that these changes were inevitable if China needed to catch up with other developed countries. He thought to himself, 'I'm not a tree. If I don't like this place, I can move to elsewhere anytime!' Then he quickly went home and packed. Jo had always loved the countryside. He took his holiday off to a massive country park where it was on the edge of the Pearl River Delta and the environment was so enjoyable. Jo began to hum a cheerful tune while climbing the mountains as he felt so happy and relaxing when he got to get away from the busy cities. After hours of climbing, he finally came to the summit of the mountain. The air was so fresh and the view from the top was ridiculously beautiful and pleasing that Jo was in happy tears. Whilst enjoying the beauty of nature, Jo saw a flash of light further down the summit. 'What is that? It looks like a reflection of light from the water. I am feeling a bit thirsty anyway. I should go and have a look!' he thought. With a bit of effort, he finally managed to climb down the mountain to where the light came from. There stood an old-looking well with lots of molds and the bricks around it were beginning to fall off. Jo slowly stepped forward and took a look inside the well. It was so deep that he could not see an end to it. Regardless, he still needed the water to soothe his thirst. He used the bucket hanging on the side to get some water out of the well. The water was so clear and translucent that Jo could not help and quickly gurgle it down his throat. 'Ah! The water's so nice! I've never tasted any water as fresh as this before!' he exclaimed. He could literally feel the energy running through his body and all of his tiredness was gone. He took his water bottle out and filled it full with the well water and walked home. The very next morning, Jo woke up and was about to water his plants. Sadly, his plants were dying and wilting as there was not enough sunlight and the water he used was too poor. He took out the water bottle which was filled with well water and started watering the plants. He waited for a while but nothing happened so he went back to work with disappointment. Later that day when Jo came back from work, he could not believe his eyes. The plants were once again alive and they were so lively that they were as if waving their hands towards Jo with bright smiles. Jo was so delighted and he could not wait to spread the news to others. People to people, village to village and soon the news were spread all over the Pearl River Delta. People came from miles away to collect water from the well. The diseased were healed, the dead were raised back to life, believe or not the water did do amazing things. It was not long after the news started spreading that a property developer bought the country park and no public access was ever allowed. Jo was utterly disappointed as this was not his initial intention. He wanted people to use the well water wisely and always had an appreciation for the loveliness of this gift. He had a strong urge that he needed to talk to the developer. On arrival to the country park, Jo was too shocked to believe what he saw. There were truckers, tractors and a huge black hose connecting a water tank and the well. It was not hard anyone to foresee what was going to happen. He could not care less and rushed towards the fences and workers who were trying to stop

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him and he got to the head development officer. 'You have got to stop what you are doing! The well water is saint! We need to appreciate what was given to us by the nature. Plus, if we use the water wisely, we could save the Pearl River Delta from pollution!' Jo pleaded. The officer did not respond at first but after a minute or two, he nodded and agreed to pull over the plan of extracting the well water for commercial use. The officer commanded the workers to send the water into the Pearl Rivers and here was where the magic began. The Pearl River Delta was back to its own, with no pollution or harmful chemicals. People living in the area were constantly using the water from the well for almost any purpose. The Pearl River Delta was like a fairyland where everything was glorious and prosperous but one thing these people did not know – the well water was not endless…

Fiction: Group 3

My Queen Renaissance College, Chan, Jane - 12, Fiction: Group 3

he opened her eyes, and stared up at the no-longer-blue sky. Since the last war, she had trouble discerning fantasy from reality. If she rolled over, she’d see a city of white marble in the faraway distance. She could not stop herself from glaring with hate at the mocking city they called ‘The truly

new, New York’. Not that it was ever called New York before. The city of lights, sounds, hopes and dreams were long gone now. Campaigning against the opposing side did not result in good things for her. Sometimes, the wind would whisper to her, tell her of better times. It kept her going; kept her sane. For a day, the rivers in the city ran red with blood until they burned everything to the ground. She was there, and it wasn’t fun. When people passed by her - in the rare occasion that she’d come to the city, of course - they would smirk, and the whispers of disrelish followed her around like a dog on a leash. If they were brave, they’d yell out insults. People never assaulted her, but their words were enough to make her turn back. *** He opened his eyes, and saw flashes of red and orange. He sat up and batted them away. He examined his surroundings: rolling hills, a dirty grey sky. In the distance was a majestic city of marble. To the right was an area of charred-black trees, that went on out beyond the horizon. He looked down at the slate of grey. He scooped up some, and a charred black object was poking out. The powder was loose, so he dug it up and blew away the grey. It was black and burnt, but the spherical object was instantly recognizable. He dropped it and closed his eyes as a wave of nausea overcame him, and he started heaving what was left in his stomach: which was nothing. *** She goes through her routine, and walks over to the small river with pellucid water, sheltered by black trees, twenty paces to the left of her dwelling. She eats and drinks off it, so she returns home for a bucket, and fills it close to the brim. All the other streams and rivers were burned away, but not this one. She still remembers the stream through her eyes of childhood. It was bigger, back then. It was also very polluted, so she considers it better off after the war. It healed itself, something that she was amused by. The name was the pearl river delta, though she now calls it the river of hope. It was famous before, and the fact that it stands after the war is hope.

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It provides comfort that even they, cannot take away the river. The river was burned too, like everything else, and the result was that it had taken away most of the water. Wildlife is nonexistent after the big war, but this river is special. *** Wind blew across the plain, and ashes swirled and whirled and twirled around, like the elegant ballet dancers of the past. A searing pain rippled through his head, much like being slapped by a brick, and he collapsed into a fetal position. Ballet? How did he know that? He stayed as still as he could, poised for another memory to strike him. It never happened. *** She nudged open a big plank of metal that served as a door. The musty interior of the warehouse was dark, but the power still ran, so one single lightbulb lit up the small room she called her home. Most of the warehouse had caved in, so almost all of the space had been taken up by sheets of rusted metal, with a fine layer of ash on top. The only small pocket of space left was inhabited by her, and on top was a piece of metal sheet hanging precariously over the edge of the mess that was the warehouse. She had scavenged what was left of the products, and so a corner of the space was occupied by an ash covered bed and a tree trunk that she had cut down with her daggers, which served as a table for her and her weapons. She places her bucket next to the table, and covers it with a plastic tarp she found in the pile of warehouse-debris. The windows are drawn with charcoal and ash, depicting green forests and white wonderlands of the past. It wasn’t much, but it was her only home. *** His feet brought him to a miserable looking warehouse. His brain told him to stop, but his body kept moving. He started walking through a hole in the side, with a metal plank on the floor. Two people were there. He was examining the drawings on the walls when an excruciating pain suddenly ripped out from his body, and he wondered if he had been set on fire. ***

Fiction: Group 3

Bang. She turned around; startled, and saw the miserable excuse of a door on the ground She groaned. “My queen.” The general stood with a sadistic smile plastered onto his face. “Hello.” The girl with the raven hair and dark eyes refused to answer, and stayed motionless.. The general of the axis forces made a visit once in a while. He wanted to keep her alive so he could see her suffer. “I brought you a gift.” “No gift of yours is welcome.” Her response was quick and brisk. “Well I’m sure you’ll appreciate this one.” Footsteps struck the dusty concrete floor, and they were not either of theirs. She ears hear a gasp and something tumble to the floor. *** He relived his memories, and he decided that he liked being an amnesiac much better. His parents and memories of childhood were not too horrible; the ones after that - not so much. He remembers his close friends, Alexandra, Max. He remembers his parents, and he remembers his name. Luke. He now sees the irony. ‘The light-bringer’. More like the death-bringer. He remembers being in the Chinese army against Japan. He was on a failed naval attack mission, and he fell into the ocean. The Japanese saved his body and conducted experiments on his comrades and him with their extensive knowledge of the twenty seventies. After that, they wiped their memories. That’s his logical assumption. He thinks they did it with other soldiers in the allied forces. They let them go and they’d been celebrated like the fools they were. When they were put back to work, and his country started winning battles. But Germany surrendered, and Japan got desperate. That night, the soldiers who’d gone through the experiments killed everyone on Luke’s side. He remembers being aware of what he was doing, but unable to stop. He remembers blood. The rivers were stained pink, and bodies were strewn everywhere. He killed his parents, his friends, everyone, except Alexandra. When he walked over to her house, he looked at her sleeping form, and just walked away to where the other soldiers were. Then he and his comrades were in a building, and they stood while a whirlwind of fire

Fiction: Group 3

and smoke saw everything burned down. They stood there in an imperturbable tranquility as the image of fire seared their eyes. Then white lights, the smell of alcohol. They’d brought him back. *** Many days passed, and he neither stirred, nor awoke from his slumber. The only way she was sure he was alive was his heartbeat, and the steady breathing. She admits she is tempted to kick him out into the open, but she knew what he did was not his fault. The general explained the experiment -they put them under a mind-controlling serum, and answered her; albeit very vaguely, but nevertheless, she got her answers. It was not his fault that he killed everything she’d known. Luke-her old friend. He left for the army, and the last time she saw him was when he stood over her with a knife. He walked away. Later, the general told her he ordered him to stop because she was a queen leading the cause, and he wanted to see the queen dethroned. *** Now that the memories are gone and done, he sees black, and the darkness is suffocating. *** Her family is in heaven, or wherever dead people go, and she yearns to be with them. She is not free on Earth, and staying only causes pain for her. She’s not dying though. She is the only hope. She cries for him, for her, because neither of them deserve to live in the aftermath of WW3. She lifts her dagger, and waits. *** Time flies by his closed eyes, and he feels himself waking up. When daylight penetrates his eyelids, they miraculously open. He focuses on the graceful dagger in front of him, and smiles. He looks up at Alexandra, and sees tear-stricken face. He mouths his final words: thank you.

Fiction: Group 3

The Three Cities Renaissance College, Chow, Theodore - 13, Fiction: Group 3

nce upon a time, there were three cities - Guangzhou, Macau and Hong Kong, where their people lived harmoniously together. There was no conflict, no argument and no war among them, for they shared the great power of the Pearl, which allowed their people to have riches

beyond their wildest dreams. This precious pearl was located in a vault on a deserted island in between the three cities. Surrounding the vault was a magnificent bridge, which connected the three places. Although they had benefited from the power of the Pearl for nearly 100 years, each of these cities began to see their own problems. The Macanese gambled all the time; Guangzhou people played tricks on others in order to make more profits; and Hong Kongers were never happy with what they had. Although they got all the riches in the world, their greed had cast a spell on their land. No flowers could blossom in the land of greed. The people of Guangzhou thought that if they could have the Pearl to themselves, all their problems would be gone. But so did the other two cities. The ruling party of Guangzhou came up with a plan to steal the Pearl, at the celebration of the 100th Year of Peace. While they were planning how to steal the Pearl from the high security vault, Hong Kong was organizing a huge feast for the celebration, and Macau was preparing for a big show of fireworks. Down below, the Pearl God, in the depths of the bay, had been listening with keen ears. “Chairman Jiang, you will greet the people of Guangzhou and the other cities, while I will sneak into the vault and steal the Pearl,” explained General Xi. “It will be a perfect plan!” he added. “They will never see it coming,” exclaimed Chairman Jiang. Meanwhile, in Hong Kong, the generals were deciding what food to bring to the celebration. “What about some pudding or fruit punch?” asked Secretary Lam. “I was thinking more down the lines of glass noodles and dumplings,” replied Governor Leung. “Actually, I think that we should make deserts and pastries!” “This conversation is getting us nowhere!” exclaimed Governor Leung. “We should focus on the security of the Pearl instead of what we are going to eat!” In Macau, the fireworks were being shipped to the island, ready to set off on the eve of the celebration. Big boss Chui, from Macau, was fast asleep at his desk. He had already planned out the sequences and colors of the fireworks, and choreographed 100 brilliant dancers to perfection. His day’s work was done. On the night of the celebration of their 100th Year of Peace, the Guangzhou citizens were busy preparing the food for the big party. Suddenly, the lights flickered and went off. Fireworks flew up into the night sky and decorated the sky full of stars with a thousand shimmering colors. The Guangzhou people all clapped in awe. “This is brilliant!” whispered Governor Leung to Secretary Lam. “Yes, Chairman Chui has done it again.” After the last firework, dancers came in and filled the bridges. They spun and jumped and leaped in unison while streams of confetti tumbled down from the ceiling. Then, Chairman Jiang stepped onto the podium and greeted everyone. “Welcome! Welcome all to the celebration of our 100th Year of Peace! ... ” The citizens of Hong Kong, Macau and Guangzhou clapped in admiration. Meanwhile, at the vault, everything went exactly as General Xi had planned. The citizens of Guangzhou, Hong Kong and Macau were pre-occupied with the fireworks, the dancers, the food and Chairman Jiang’s speech. General Xi had almost finished unlocking the vault when he heard footsteps approaching. He hid behind a big pillar and watched as two Hong Kong governments officials walked past the vault. Suddenly, Secretary Lam exclaimed “Look! Three of the vault’s locks are unlocked!” “Someone must be trying to steal the Pearl!” said Governor Leung. “We must alert the guards immediately!”

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General Xi watched in disapproval while the two Hong Kong officers made their way back to the celebration. No one could stop me from getting what I want, he thought. After a few more minutes of tinkering with the locks, the door opened and General Xi stepped into the vault. He was mesmerized by what he saw. The Pearl looked even more magnificent up close. However, hearing footsteps approaching, General Xi had no choice but to pocket the Pearl and flee from the scene. When the two Guangzhou generals finally arrived at the vault with some Macau soldiers and Hong Kong officials, they found the vault door open and the pedestal where the pearl once sat, empty. While Secretary Lam realized that they did not have time to panic, Governor Leung’s mouth dropped open and he stared in disbelief. “The thief is getting away! We must find him immediately! Soldiers, make sure no one leaves this place until the Pearl is found. Block off the bridges. Do whatever you must to bring back the Pearl!” ordered Secretary Lam. The soldiers wasted no time and all headed to the one and only way to get to and from the island - the bridge. General Xi surveyed the surroundings of the bridge. Seeming that most of the guards were not taking notice of him, he made an escape towards the bridge. Once he made it onto the bridge, he turned left and started heading towards Hong Kong. Suddenly, an arrow whizzed past his ear, almost taking his ear off. General Xi turned around and saw Governor Leung placing another arrow onto the bow and getting prepared to shoot. This time, General Xi knew he would not miss. General Xi, taking his chances, jumped into the sea! Governor Leung, stunned, placed the arrow back into its quiver and ran up to the edge of the bridge to see where thief went. Just as Chairman Jiang and Big Boss Chui opened the gates of the bridge, a pillar of water shot up from the sea and a wet and seaweed-covered General Xi landed on the bridge, choking over the salt water. Suddenly, hundreds of Chinese white dolphins leaped up from the sea, soaking all four of them in freezing water, and gracefully re-entered the ocean. A human form materialized out of the mist. “Who are you to interfere?!” yelled Chairman Jiang. “Who am I?” asked the stranger. “I am the god who gave you that pearl. I am the God of Pearl!” Hearing these words, they all bowed down to the God. “Excuse me for my rudeness, God,” added Chairman Jiang. The God of Pearl held out his palm and said, “Give me back my Pearl now!” General Xi quickly got to his feet and placed the Pearl onto the God’s huge outstretched hand. “I have been watching each of you, as you develop and grow. I knew that the Pearl would be found, but I did not attempt to take it back, as I wanted to watch the development. I made this Pearl, not for you to fight over it, but for the sake of peace in your places.” With that said, the God of Pearl smashed the precious gem onto the ground. “In memory of this event, all the riches of your cities will be taken back. Your people will have to earn them back through sweat and effort. To remind greedy people of the consequences of their actions, this river will from now on be called the Pearl River, and the land surrounding it, the Pearl River Delta. People in the future must understand that acting upon greed is not acceptable.” As he said that, the bridge collapsed and the three cities were separated. From then on, despite the fact that Hong Kong, Macau and Guangzhou had to work hard to restore their cities to their previous glory, they managed to survive and were able to raise a healthy generation who understood the consequences of greed. The three cities flourished and thrived harmoniously once again.

Fiction: Group 3

Jake and Pearl Renaissance College, Jiang, Freddy - 12, Fiction: Group 3

hadows of men, brandishing bludgeons, closing in… suddenly, one grabbed a net and threw it forward. Jake struggled and squirmed, as panic overwhelmed him. He was trapped…. Jake opened his eyes slowly. Relief flooded him as he realized that it was only a dream. He

was still safe in Baiyun Park, Guangzhou. The sun peeked out from behind the green hill. Some early birds began to chirp as they glided gracefully into the pale blue sky. It was the start of a normal day. Jake was a one-year-old Kintamani dog, with snow-white fur and a bushy tail. His black, olive-shaped eyes shone and his tongue came out to lick his fur, still spiking from his nightmare. Men capturing dogs. Some of his friends had already gone missing. Something horrendous was happening around here....

A nearby bush quivered. Jake jumped around and gave a bark, as a small gray head poked out. A cat! She had huge, amber-like eyes. Her gray fur was covered with bluish black stripes that fluffed out when she saw Jake, and she let out a warning yowl. Jake lowered his body into a sitting position, to show that he was not a threat. He pressed his fur into the ground. The cat looked straight into his eyes.

‘What are you doing? You shouldn’t be out here. This isn’t a good time. What if the netters come back?’ ‘Netters?’ Jake was puzzled. ‘You know. Every day, for a couple of weeks now, netters roam around to capture dogs. You should never come out in the daylight. It might be good if you leave... you know, to find a safer place.’ ‘Um….’ But where shall I go? What are netters, anyway? Confusion clouded his gaze. ‘You can try Hong Kong. A safe place, and it’s not far from here. A dozen days of walking should do.’

That far? Jake murmured, ‘I don’t know where it is.’ ‘Take the Greenway to Shenzhen. From there, to Hong Kong! I can journey with you. Sometimes, the netters catch cats....’ ‘Oh!’ Normally, he wouldn’t so readily accept an offer that might change his life forever, but he didn’t want to be captured. The cat is serious. I can trust her.

‘Let’s go.’ Jake started padding towards a stone path. When he realized that the cat was not following, he stopped. Amusement glittered in her eyes. She meowed, ‘you’re going the wrong way.’ ‘Oh. Maybe you should lead the way. I’m Jake. What’s your name?’ ‘Pearl. Well, Jake, follow me!’ Pearl proudly cat-walked in the opposite direction, and Jake quickly scampered over and caught up with her.

* * * Pearl knew her way well. She picked a hidden trail, well protected under ancient Banyan trees. The grass was tall, so Jake and Pearl were barely noticeable from afar. They zigzagged until they reached the Greenway.

While Jake followed her, he pondered at her words. ‘Tell me about the netters,’ he finally barked. ‘There is a festival in Yulin,’ she meowed. ‘On the summer solstice, people there celebrate by eating dog meat.’ ‘What’s Yulin?’ Jake asked. ‘It’s a place. Many netters come here to capture dogs for the festival. No dog is safe!’ ‘Why come here?’ Pearl looked at him as if the answer was obvious. ‘Because there are many dogs here.’ What have happened to the dogs there? Jake mused. For a long time, Jake and Pearl walked in silence along the Greenway. It was a reddish bike lane that gently meandered through the woods. Tall bamboo trees grew in thick patches, dotted with lush bushes. Some bushes had glossy, huge fan-like leaves. Some were blooming with pink and red flowers. Although overhead the June sun was shining fiercely in an azure sky, it was shady and cool down here. They travelled peacefully for many days, sticking to the Greenway because the netters’ trucks could not get in. Occasionally, some people cycled past them, but they were never unfriendly or hostile. They

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were mostly young people, laughing and shouting as they went along, their hair flapping in the wind. At first, Jake and Pearl were frightened and would hide away in the bushes once they heard the tinkling bells. By and by they felt safer and would poke out to watch them fly by in envy.

The lane was more crowded on weekends. Families with kids were out together. Kids adored the dog-cat company. Some would even stroke them and give them food. During weekdays, though, the lane was quieter, except for early morning, when old people would stroll along, stretching, humming, chatting.

Jake and Pearl got their food mostly from the litterbins. There were some leftovers after the weekends. If lucky, they would even get some half-eaten cha siu bao. As days went by, Jake was beginning to grow attached to the place. Except for the fact that food is scarce, this place is perfect! The bushes provide cosy shelters. People are friendly. What more do I need?

The sun was sinking fast, kindling a nearby mountain and silhouetting the bamboo trees with golden linings.

I can’t believe we’ve already travelled for 10 days, Jake thought. Time flies quick.... Pearl’s meow jolted him back from his thoughts. ‘We’ll continue tomorrow,’ she stifled a yawn.

‘We might reach our destination tomorrow.’ They veered off the Greenway and curled together under a huge bush.

* * *

Rain lashed down from the dark, bulging clouds. Jake woke up, feeling cold and wet all over. Pearl was stirring in her sleep. Jake prodded her, and she sat up. ‘Ugh! How are we going to travel in this weather?’ ‘Why not? You don’t mind the rain, do you?’ ‘Of course I do!’ she grumbled. ‘Every cat dislikes rain! It makes your fur all wet and uncomfortable. I’ll have to groom my fur all day!’ Jake stared at the rain, and through the haze of translucent rain sheets, the evergreen bamboo trees; beyond that still, the distant misty mountains…. It was a vast world. Again he thought, why can’t we stay here? He was about to suggest this to Pearl, when she spoke first. ‘You know, people used to steal into Hong Kong, so I’ve heard, for a better life. They would swim across the Ng Tung River to Hong Kong. They don’t do this anymore. They have a good life here, too, now….’

They both looked at the Greenway, shimmering in the rain. Big raindrops splashed on the red lane and bounced back, forming countless crystal flowers, fresh and cool.

Perhaps someday, our life will also improve, so that cats and dogs won’t have to leave their homeland, either. Jake looked at Pearl, who seemed to read his thoughts.

‘This place is peaceful,’ Jake barked. ‘Yeah,’ Pearl meowed. ‘Peaceful and safe. Without netters.’ ‘Peaceful and safe,’ Jake echoed. ‘The Greenway reminds me of Baiyun Park. My home. And

yours.’ Pearl gave a slight nod. The thought sneaked back into his mind, and he let it flow out through his mouth. ‘Why can’t we

stay here?’ Pearl’s eyes widened. ‘Why?’ ‘Why not?’ They looked at each other for a long time, eyes unblinking as if they were in a staring contest.

Finally, Pearl looked away at the glistening Greenway before she faced him again. ‘I suppose we can,’ she whispered.

Jake nodded. Suddenly, he felt relieved. This is my new home now, he thought. The Greenway. He knew that he would be happy here. Food was still scarce, but it was enough to feed him and Pearl. He looked at Pearl’s bright eyes, and saw hope.

This is the right decision, her amber eyes seemed to say. Together, they turned up their heads in unison and looked at the clear blue sky. The rain had died out, leaving a sparkling rainbow hovering over the mountains and touching the warm summer sun.

Fiction: Group 3

The Pearl Disease Sha Tin College, Chan, Cyrus - 11, Fiction: Group 3

n 2014 a catastrophic event occurred, but no one knew who was responsible. I was one of the few survivors left from the incident. Even though I was very fortunate, it had come with some unfortunate consequences. I watched as people from my village died from this, being turned into something

uncontrollable. It was the terrible and unforgettable past lay afar, like a dream left behind in the night. This is how it happened... I was young at the time owning a splendid rice field. It was the only thing I had that I depended on other than the fishes my wife caught by the Xiangjiang River in Zhuzhou, Hunan to sell. It was a simple yet enjoyable lifestyle. The limitless sky was as blue as the Mediterranean Sea. The opulent yellow Sun shone and its radiant light seeped into the darkest of alleyways along the various streets. However, China became greedy and misused the environment. Years after years, gradually more smoke billowed out of countless factory pipes and the wasted metals in the form of sludge were thrown into the sky blue river. Slowly more and more the ultramarine river turned into a river full of sludge and poisonous toxin. By that time, Hunan was the largest rice and heavy metal producer in Pearl River Delta. One day, the Food Safety officials had come to inspect our rice. They took samples of the rice and left. I crossed my fingers in hope that it would be fine because if it weren’t, it would all be a huge waste. It was late already as the darkness was swallowing the village bit by bit. I saw a flock of birds fly past; however, they weren’t flying straight. Flying as if they were drunk; they flew with no control of themselves. They soon stopped and before they landed on the ground, they were already dead. I wondered to myself “How weird was that?” I walked back home wondering what was that all about. When I arrived home, I realized my wife wasn’t back yet. I prepared our dinner and waited patiently. When she came home she was very quiet. I found it very peculiar since she is usually quite talkative. She quickly finished and left to bed. I went to bed shortly after as well. Around midnight, I heard loud noises coming from the toilet. I cautiously got out of bed and turned on the lights. I saw someone holding a kitchen knife menacingly. It was my wife. She took a few steps in my direction holding the knife as if she wanted to kill me. I wondered to myself “What’s gotten into her?” She came very close to me and I could hear her every breath. She suddenly dropped her knife and started shaking violently. She continued convulsing so I took her to the hospital immediately. “Doctor Chan, is there anything wrong with her?” I asked worriedly. “She’s had a complicated mixture of chemicals that seemed to be controlling her movements,” He replied apprehensively, “I think it would be better if we sent her to the Hunan Research Institute of Chemical Industry to be examined since she’s the first person to suffer from an unknown disease.” Two men took her away. I decided to check on the rice. I was completely stunned that most of the rice was black. My mind pondered on the question as to why it was like this. Was this some sort of prank? Did I do something wrong? These thoughts whizzed in my mind. All of a sudden the rice trader rushed towards me saying solemnly “I’m sorry to say but your rice has been tested and is completely inedible.” I knew then something was definitely wrong. First it was the birds that flew abnormally then my wife being poisoned by a chemical that might be controlling her. “What was the cause of this” I wondered. At home I researched some information relating to my wife’s condition. I realized that a similar incident had occurred in Japan. People walked around the streets with a posture that was highly abnormal. These were the same things that happened to my wife except she seemed to be under a spell which terrified me. I decided to inform Mayor Zhang. I forced myself into the governmental offices to meet him. I hoped he would listen to a lowly farmer like me. “Mr Zhang I have an important matter to discuss with you,” I spoke nervously, “We must evacuate people from the villages near the rivers. I witnessed several abnormalities and

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Fiction: Group 3

I believe that it would be a wise move to evacuate them away from the highly chemically exposed areas. My wife was one unlucky ones to be affected.” He just shrugged as if he didn’t even care. “Nonsense! I doubt it was because of that. My people are all fine. Your wife must’ve been affected by cancer or some other sickness.” Mr Zhang said disregarding my claims. I urgently to rush back to my village to warn them since the mayor himself didn’t trust a single word I said. Soon I walked past the streets, I realised I was already too late. Residents had turned into mindless and disoriented beings like they were walking like headless chickens around the village. What I saw was far more unexpected than I thought. Believe me no one could have anticipated this happening. The thought that everyone I knew and grew up was gone in a sense was surreal. Parts of my life were disappearing before me. However, I knew this was just the beginning. Soon later the mysterious disease had affected a factory nearby already. The workers inside roamed aimlessly and mindlessly in the entire factory. Their actions were similar to those zombies from horror movies. However, their intentions were near impossible to guess and predict. It quickly spread and the news went to all of China. Hunan was known as the Zombie Province. Many journalists soon asked the general of the military to see what they would do about it. They also asked the president his opinion on this matter. “General Tse how will you solve this outbreak in Hunan?” A reporter asked. “We might have to close out the entire province of Hunan.” General Tse answered gravely. “I suppose it would be better to leave the province alone.” General Tse added. “President Xi do you know what’s happening to Hunan?” A journalist asked. “This is in fact a sign of success in China. Do not worry about it too much.” President Xi replied with a great deal of confidence. But President Xi’s thoughts on this were very wrong… Soon Hunan’s pollution began to worsen. It wasn’t that the pollution level got higher but it started to affect people amongst the provinces in the Pearl River Delta. Soon chemical filled clouds billowed out of factory pipes closing in on the other healthier provinces. The clear skies were soon filled with dark clouds creating a gloomy environment which was in Guang Zhou; the first province to develop the disease. Gradually more and more innocent civilians were affected until the entire Pearl River Delta became a no man’s land. Guards from the provinces ushered the remaining survivors. I was forced to leave my affectionate wife and my entire life in order to survive. Out of the fifty seven million people in the Pearl River Delta only one thousand had survived. One contributing factor that a few had survived was their superb immune system. We had to walk through multiple body sensors and get checked to see if we were infected. A few were and they were dragged back. The infected victims were incurable and there was no chance of recovering. Majority of them had to go through the bitterness of death and some were captured for research purposes. As for my wife I never saw again. I hoped she rests in peace despite the most dreadful tragedy in history. China also suffered from the massive loss of the Pearl River Delta. For me it was a miracle to be alive; however the costs were detrimental. 31st of January is a day that scarred me forever. It was another wonderful day in Guilin where I lived after the outbreak occurred 30 years ago and it has all been simple with tranquil rivers and fresh air. I never forgot my wife whom I value the more than anything. I wondered from time to time if it was really worth it at all. Did China know how much was enough and when they should stop. The lives of millions of people for a better economy or a better home for the people of China? People around the world saw this as a warning for them to respect the world and its resources instead of exploiting it all for the gain of their own greed. It is time we apply the value of balance between nature and our own needs.

Fiction: Group 3

The Rescue of Pearl River Delta Sha Tin College, Ho, Belle - 11, Fiction: Group 3

ood morning class, today we will be doing a project about the Pearl River Delta. You guys are going to present the research result after a week.” said Professor G.

"Molly, James and Tom are in one group. If you have no problem, class dismissed." Molly was still braiding her colourful ropes. James said, “Molly, please stop braiding your funky ropes!” “We just have different interest only. Okay, let’s discuss about the project. ” Molly said. They decided to visit Professor X who was the expert of Pearl River Delta. When they came to Professor X's house, Molly tried to knock the door but then she heard Professor X’s voice so she hissed. Professor X laughed and said “Ha, the history is going to change. I will be the first one who owns the “Blackranium”. I will then control the people in Pearl River Delta and they won’t be clever anymore.” “Em, sound like he has an evil plan” said Molly pretending to be a detective. Suddenly, a flash of light came out from the keyhole. Molly quickly opened the door. And Professor X was disappeared! “Where is Professor X? Is he blackmailed?” James asked astonishingly. “Don't touch anything, James.” Molly warned lately. James accidentally hit a bright red button on the table. They were swallowed by a big flash of light. Bang! Molly felt dizzy and fell on the floor. Silence held for a few seconds. The three shadows of them had disappeared in the room. “Ehh, So dizzy,” said Molly shaking her head. She turned around and asked, “Where are we?” James murmured and had no idea. They found some villagers but they looked differently. Their eyes and hair were black. They wore clothes with very long sleeves. Women curled up their long hair with a weird metal stick. “Excuse me? Can you tell me where are we?” Tom asked. "You are in Pearl River Delta!" An old man told them with gentle voice. He led them near the riverbank slowly. “See! The soil is black!?” Tom was very curious. He grabbed a pile of soil and put into his portable mineral detector. The data showed that some chemicals inside it didn't exist in his computer. Tom said it might be the “Blackranium”. It is very rare and fertile. It could bring crops getting good harvest. Furthermore, crops grown from this soil could make people stronger and smarter.” "This is amazing! We may be the first one who discovers this!” Tom said delightedly. But Molly worried about how to return home. She remembered that Professor X had to return to school and attended the “Best Scientist 2046 Award Ceremony" at seven o'clock.

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"Wait! It is fifteen to four now!" They started getting anxious and rushed. “We have to find him before seven!” She commanded. "Do you think he will be near the River?” Tom asked while panting for breath. They quickly ran to the river bank and saw Professor X ordering people to throw hundred bags of sand into the river. Tom realized that he wanted to block the water so he could take all “Blackranium”! He shouted, “Stop him! If he blocked the river then people couldn't be alive!” Professor X was so surprised that they were there. He murmured with vile curse. Molly asked, "Professor, why are you here? Why do you block the river?” Professor X continued the river blockage. He lied to them and would bring them back to original world. Suddenly they fell into darkness. Molly tried to escape and yelled for help but the next minute she lost her consciousness. “Ew…Where are we now?” Water dropping on James’ face and he woke up. Tom said they were in an underwater cave.” What time is it now?” “Six.” They had to get out of here soon. But their hands were tied with ropes tightly. Molly believed that it is Professor X who trapped them here. Tom said, "I think I found a way out, but first we need to get rid of the ropes." Molly quickly untied the ropes by use of her skillful braiding techniques. “How can you do that?” James was surprised..... The cave was very deep so they climbed out and swam in order to escape. “I hate swimming,” said Molly. James gave his hand to Molly “Hold on to me, I will bring you out.” Molly caught James tightly and closed her eyes nervously. They saw Professor X as they got out of the water. “Er... you nasty kids again!” Professor X looked scary with his hair messier than rubbish. Molly asked "What are you doing with the “Blackranium”?” “I am going to bring it back so people here will become stupid and I can control them!” said Professor X while getting more crazy and evil. Tom asked Molly to distract Professor X so he took some pictures for evidence. James stole Professor X's “Blackranium” and pretended he was going to drop it into the water. Turns out, Professor X was chasing the two kids for getting back the mineral. During the fighting with Professor X, James accidentally grabbed and pressed button on the watch Professor X. He then disappeared within a second. Fortunately, the time machine watch dropped on James’ hand before Professor X escaped. "Professor X has gone!" Tom quickly handed on Molly and James together and activated the watch. A sudden strong turbulence rotated and dragged them to slide somewhere. Within a second, they appeared in Professor X house. Molly was relieved because they had broken his evil plan. Otherwise, the history of Pearl River Delta is going to change! "Let's go back to school and reveal his conspiracy”! After returned to school, they found Professor X was on the stage accepting the award. Molly quickly called the police and showed them the pictures. Professor X immediately dropped his trophy and ran away from the back door. But he was blocked by police and got arrested finally! Hurray!Hurray! Hurray!

Fiction: Group 3

Ba Gua Dream Shekou International School, Kapur, Prisha - 14, Fiction: Group 3

o yao..um..yao yi..um..” stutters Bill, as he frantically scrolls through his English to Chinese dictionary. He decided to buy one at a tourist shop near the airport, along with about half a dozen traditional Chinese black ink paintings. I personally thought them to

be slightly overpriced, but that did not stop him from purchasing them. Bill continues to struggle with his order, and by now, he has attracted a crowd. Everyone sitting in the small wooden chairs lined up next to the counter have moved their gaze form their food to Bill. They smile and snicker to themselves every time Bill tries to form a sentence, with some of them being not so discreet with their amusement. A old man carrying sacks of hay stops and listens Bill. He has a hunched back and torn up clothes, but that does not stop form a smile forming on his face. And the chef, is even more amused. He has a bloated belly and wears a white apron with stains covering its front. He listens carefully and tries to understand what he can as Bill speaks his broken Chinese in the hopes to order a plate of shrimp fried rice. “Bill, would you please knock it off? Some of us are a little hungry here.” I state while gesturing towards my belly. “Wait, hang on a second son. I almost got this” he says hurriedly. Ignoring his pleas completely, I point at the picture of the delicious looking stir-fried noodles on the menu. I tilt it toward the chef, asking him to take it as my order. The chef in return, nods his head and turns around to find his ingredients. I slide myself deeper into the uncomfortable, minuscule wooden chair, and place my hands on the light wooden counter. I continue to hear Bill’s desperate attempts to get the chef’s attention, and silently laugh to myself. It is times like this that I like to observe, and look around my surroundings. I look and see the busy streets in front of me. I see old women walking around carrying tiny feathery objects with a black structure. Back home, people call them Chinese dream catchers. But Bill told me that their real name is ‘Ba Gua'. They are kept in the homes of Feng Shui practitioners, and are believed to have the power to ward off evil spirits. I see a group of men pass by, wearing identical straw hats. Not the ones they sell at airports made from plastic and glue, these are handmade. Every single piece of straw has been placed on the base and sowed together. I see a man selling noodles on what looks like a wok and stove set up on a trolly connected to a bicycle. I can see him stirring around the ‘lo mien’ with expertise. This was probably a recipe taught to him by his parents, and to his parents by their parents. This is how everything is here. Passed down through the generations, and having such tremendous meaning and long history. He has such an addictive smile on his lips, that I can’t help but form one on my lips as well. And it is times like this, times when I sit and look around, when I wonder, how on earth did I get here? How did life lead me to this small food joint in Zhaoqing, Guangdong Province, China? Looking back, it all seems lake such a blur. “Hey Greg!” shouted a voice from behind me. I turned around and found that it was Bill. ! “Hey how are you Bill?” I asked. “I’m doing okay son, how are you? Your mother doing okay?” “Yeah, they're holding up, its always hard this time of year for mom. She seems so… fragile. It’s so weird to think of her as someone who can actually…well, be hurting. She is always so good at concealing her emotions, sometimes it feels like she doesn't have any.” I said, and I meant every single word. Bill was the only one I could ever really speak to truthfully. Well, there was dad, but thats over now. “Yeah? Well, this time of year is not easy for any of us. How’s football going?” he asked. I looked down at my attire, the knee length tights, and shoulder pads covered in a murky green jersey with the number “9” written on it. “Yeah, its going great Bill, thanks for asking.”

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Fiction: Group 3

“Look, I know this must be hard for you bud, but you're gonna make it through. Tell you what, how about you come over to my office after your football practice is over. I need to discuss some thing with you. You know where my office building is?” He asked in his usual loving voice. “Yeah, I know the way. Dad used to take me there when I was younger.” “Oh yeah, of course son. Well, I guess I will see you there.” And with that, he walks off of the field. I finished with practice and took a short shower, then made my way straight towards Bill’s office building. It took some tries to get the truck started, but it eventually got going. ! I stepped into the front reception of Bechtel Corporation. “Hi, I am here to see Bill Benson.” I tried to put on my most formal voice. “And who might you be?” questioned the receptionist, even though she gave me the feel that she really didn't care. “I am well, um, I am a friend.” “All right then kiddo, make your way straight, its the first door to your right.” “Thanks.” I replied hurriedly, and walked in the directions the receptionist told me to. Soon enough, I saw a fully glass door on my right, with the letters “Bill Benson. Head of Marketing.” printed on. I knocked on the door, and Bill gestured me to come in. He was on the phone, so I just made my way toward the couch and took a seat. “Ok, ke yi. Ok, listen dude, is there anyone there who speaks english? No english? Hello? Ni hao? Wo bu speak Chinese? Hello? Can you put an English speaking person on the phone please? Oh just screw it!” he yelled frantically, his patience running out with every word from the other side. And eventually, he hug up with a frustrated groan. “What was that? it seemed like you were speaking some Korean there for a second.” I asked. “It was actually Chinese. Learned some on a business trip a few months ago. Its a great place China, but damn the language is a pain.” replied Bill. I simply nodded my head in response, while awkwardly brushing my hand on the fabric of the sofa. Bill took a big gulp. “And this actually brings me to what I wanted to ask you in the first place.” he said. “Greg, your father, he was an amazing man. He was so-“ “Yeah, yeah he was amazing. What happened to him was so very sad. Bill, I have heard this all before. From grandma, from mom, from the guy who sells hot dogs outside your office. I know exactly what you are going to say. I have heard it all a million times in the past five years. And I sit there and I listen to all of it, because I don't want to act rude. But Bill, I really do not want to do this talk with you too.” I sighed in frustration. “No, no Greg listen! I did not ask you to come here for some sympathy speech or even to make you feel better for that matter. I..um…I need to tell you something. Your father, well, he was an amazing person. He used to travel a lot, especially when you were younger. Did you know that? He was gone almost one week from the month. And he didn't just travel to different parts of America, he went all around the world. Place you would have never even heard of. Countries and cities he couldn't even pronounce the names of. But his favorite place of all, was China. He loved going there. He loved everything about China. The food, the culture, the art. He even took me a couple of times. We used to have so much fun, traveling from the peek of Tibet and all the way down to Guangdong.” He said, with the utmost fascination on his face. “And how does this ever so slightly relate to me?” I asked. “Greg, you guys never really got to travel along with your dad. Your mother won’t let you miss school, and you just never really got the time to go. But, your father once told me, that he wanted to take you there.” “Take me where?” “To China of course! To show you the busy streets of Causeway Bay in Hong Kong. Andto hike in the mountains of Guilin. He wanted to show you the world Greg. He wanted to take you with him and-” “You know what, if he really wanted to show me the world, he should have stuck around to do so himself. My father made a lot of promises back in the day, and it took me some time, but I have finally caught on and know he cannot keep any of them” I stated angrily. I did not need to hear all the broken promises my father made, not today. I I stood up from my seat and started walking towards the door. “No, Greg please listen. I know your father is never going to get the chance to get to show you those places himself, but that doesn't mean you should miss out on them.” I stopped

Fiction: Group 3

moving, but still faced the other way. I tilted my head sideways. “What are you trying to say?” “I am trying to say that I want to take you to China with me. Let me show you the sites that your father found such admiration for, the cuisine that he fell in absolute love with, and the culture he spent his life studying.” I turned around to face Bill. “Well, if I wanted to ever eat Chinese food, I could just go to that Momos place next to the motel. Isn't that enough? It has everything I need to know about China in the first place. Waiters with straw hats, and meat with a side of rice. It’s much cheaper than flying half way around the world, and probably much safer as well.” “No Greg, you don’t understand. This was your father’s dream. He used to tell me about all of the sites he was going to show you when he brought you to China. He had pin pointed all of the restaurants he was going to take you to. All of the villages you were going to visit, and all of the accessories you were going to buy. Hell, he probably even picked the exact food you were going to eat. This was your father’s dream Greg, his dream. He knew you would fall in love with the Chinese culture, just as he did.” pleaded Bill. “Ni hao, ni de miàn” says the chef, pulling me out of my trance. He slides a plate of noodles enveloped in a dark sauce towards me. I grab a pair of disposable chopsticks nearby and snap them in half. I dig straight into my noodles, with very little difficulty to my surprise. “You’re really getting the hang of those chopsticks aren't you?” says Bill, finally taking a halt from his attempt at Chinese. “Same cannot be said for your Mandarin Bill”, I chuckle. “Hey, it is a hard language to learn. And at least I try. All you do is point at things and draw pictures.” says Bill. “Yeah, and I have a plate of food in front of me, do you?” “Ahh, forget it. Hey, do you remember that time I called you into my office, and first told you about China?” Bill walks forward and takes a seat on a stool next to me. “Yeah, like it was just a few minutes ago” I say, smiling to myself. “Yeah, I suddenly got reminded of that from this place. You know, your father brought me here for the first time about ten years ago. You were no more than a baby back then.” “Hey, I was almost eight years old.” I say, while picking up another string of the fat flour noodles. “Yeah yeah, whatever. But anyway, I remember when your father first brought me here. I was so, so ignorant. All I could think of was how dirty the streets were, and how unhygienic the food might be. But your father, he was the one that showed me that there is so much more to this tiny little food joint than the flies lurking around the front of it. That there is so much more to this street than the uneven pavement you find here and there. That there is so much more to this country than what you hear on the news.” Bill says, raising his voice ever so slightly after every sentence. “I know Bill, I know.” I pause for a minute, and put down my chopsticks. “When I look back, it all seems so surreal. That I actually was that person once. Who thought that all China was was a bowl full of rice.” I take a big gulp, and continue. “You know what Bill, I think I know why dad kept on coming back to this place. I think I know why he feel in love with the language, the people and the culture. Bill this place, this place is amazing. Its so amazing. And dad saw that beauty, in every curve of the ancient cave carvings. In every slice of salt cooked chicken. And in every smile of the little village children.” I laugh at myself. “You know when I said that I was only doing this because dad would have wanted me to?” I ask, and Bill nods his head. “I think I might have to take that back. Take back what I said about this trip being a one time thing to finally get you off my back. And you better practice your Chinese when we get back home, because I might just need to come back here once more. Not for dad, not for you, but to eat those amazing dumplings again in Shenzhen.” Bill lets out a heartwarming chuckle. “What, I thought you got Momos back home next to the motel huh? Isn't that much cheaper than flying half way around the world to China?” he asks while making quotation marks with his fingers. “Yeah, that Momos place is really great. But sadly, it isn't China.”

Fiction: Group 3

The Umbrella Revolution

Singapore International School, Hong Kong (Sec), Chan, Joseph - 13, Fiction: Group 3

ow the streets are greatly rife in strife, Protesters charge and risk their precious life. To see change and universal suffrage,

For people’s rights to gain democracy. Sitting, standing, confrontation, With the riot police. Batons, pepper spray and tear gas, Unjustified violence. Do you hear the people sing? The district is in uproar. People stand in the streets for The right to choose a leader. Maybe it’s because Beijing left their word, The dragon grips the democratic bird. Maybe it’s because they’re disappointed, Rising up against the government’s words. “Standing up for universal Suffrage and votes!” The protesters stand for this, Right to choose a leader. Do you hear the people shout? “Occupy Central with Love, And Peace and the right to vote!” The message they wish to bring. Will China send over the army? Will the Basic Law be abolished? Will we no longer have a SAR? We have these worries. The people fight for a cause. The Umbrella Movement has begun. The people are discontent. They express their dissent. Do you hear the people cry? “Give us real democracy!” Their call has not been answered. The government stands adamant. But Do you hear the people sing? Do you hear the people sing? The Umbrella Movement has Begun, and answer the pleas!

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Fiction: Group 3

The Decision Singapore International School, Hong Kong (Sec), Cheung, Hoi Yu - 13,

Fiction: Group 3

hat’s all the commotion?” the boy asked. “Can’t you read?” a heavily built man snapped back while tilting his head in the direction

of the poster on the factory gate. “No.” “Dongguan City No. 1 Dye Factory is offering a job as a wastewater technician,” the man said gruffly. “But don't bother, you can't even read.” This did not bother the boy. His eyes gleamed. “This is what I need. I have to get this job for the sake of my home,” he thought, and joined the queue. After what seemed like ages, it was finally his turn. Nervously, he stepped into the office and saw a plump man sat behind a messy desk, smoking a cigarette while reading a newspaper. The man did not look up. The heavy smoke made the boy cough as he sat down slowly. “I’m Manager Li, the factory manager. Show me your identity card,” the plump man said without taking his eyes off the newspaper. The boy turned a crimson shade. His mouth felt dry. “I don’t have one,” he managed to mumble. Manager Li finally looked up. He squinted his eyes as he studied the boy. “So you are an illegal worker,” he finally said slowly. “What’s your name?” “Xin.” “Xin as in heart? You have a funny name, boy. You are an illegal worker and I can report you to the police,” he threatened. “But if you do as I say, I will give you the job and you don't have to go to prison.” Manager Li smiled, but there was something about those upturned lips that made Xin shudder. Xin found himself nodding. Manager Li then told him to return at 11 p.m. for the night shift, and that he would show him what to do then. When Xin came out of the factory, the sun was already setting. He quickly ran towards the riverbank behind the factory, and looking around to make sure nobody was near, he took off his clothes behind some bushes. He folded them neatly and hid them underneath a rock. Then he dipped quietly into the water. A shimmer appeared around his waist. The scales glimmered, reflecting the last rays of dusk from the distant horizon. He flipped his legs as they faded and a beautiful long turquoise tail appeared. Xin propelled himself underwater. Almost immediately he came up gasping for air. He coughed. “Bad water,” he thought. Then holding his breath, he swam quickly down river towards the sea. He finally came to a stop at an emerald gate. It used to sparkle dazzlingly in the old days when sunlight could still reach down that far. The merlion guard saluted, and opened the gate for him. Once inside, all the merfolks came out of their caves. They surrounded him, eager for news. “What did you find out Prince Xin?” a mermother whimpered. “My baby won’t be able to survive any more than two days if nothing is done. You are our only hope to stop this pollution.” Others murmured in agreement.

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Fiction: Group 3

“I’ve gotten a job in that factory. I’ll figure out how to stop their wastewater dumping tonight when I go back,” Xin announced, trying to reassure the crowd. Then, the merKing and merQueen came over. “Son, our lives lie in your hands,” merKing said solemnly. Xin nodded. As he prepared to head back, his mother warned him: “Remember you don't have much time left before the magic potion wears off. We don't have another potion, so you must return to water before then or you will never change back into a merboy again.” By the time Xin arrived back at the riverbank, the misty moon was already hanging high in the sky. As he heaved himself up, his tail glowed and glistened as it caught the silvery moonlight. “AHHHH!!!” a voice shrieked. Shocked, Xin spun round to the direction of the sound to see a girl, hands covering her mouth, bewildered and petrified. He quickly put his clothes on while his tail faded into legs. He stumbled across to the girl. Utterly terrified, she reeled back instinctively. “Don’t come near, you monster!” she shouted. “I am not a monster! I’m just a merboy, I mean no harm!” Xin explained defensively. There was a long pause of silence. “I thought mermaids were myths from the West! You can change into humans?” the girl asked inquisitively. “Why are you here?” “I can change because I took a magic potion,” he explained. “There is a lot of pollution in the sea this past year, so my people are dying. I must resolve this problem for them to survive.” “I can help you,” the girl beamed. It turned out that the girl, Lian, is a scientist, and is helping the police by testing water samples from the river at different time intervals to prove that the factory is indeed discharging waste dye illegally. The police never had enough proof to arrest the factory manager, even though they had searched around the factory before. Xin then talked about his job offer, and they decided that Xin should find out as much information as he could inside. Lian would wait for him by the river. When he arrived at the factory, Manager Li was waiting for him impatiently. He led Xin into a room filled with cardboard boxes. Confused, Xin watched as Manager Li shifted some boxes at the corner, which revealed a trapdoor on the floor. Lifting the trapdoor up Manager Li climbed down the hole and motioned Xin to follow. An unpleasant chemical odour surged into Xin's lungs. He coughed profusely. They landed on a dimly lit metal platform, and below them, Xin could see a large pool of dark liquid. “Your job is to press these two buttons. The red one opens up a tap, and the black one closes it. You should only open the tap for ten minutes in each hour,” Manager Li instructed as he glared at Xin. “Remember, ten minutes only.” With that, Manager Li climbed back up the ladder and left. The odour was overpowering, and Xin continued to cough. After waiting for about fifteen minutes, he slowly climbed back up the ladder and opened the trapdoor slowly. Making sure no one was around, he slipped out of the room, past a security guard who was fast asleep, and then ran to Lian and told her everything. “That's great! With my water samples and you as the witness, we can finally charge the factory manager!” Lian said with a gleam in her eyes. “We must go to the police station at once!”

Fiction: Group 3

“But I have to return to the sea!” Xin protested. “Can't you tell the police instead?” “Even if I do, you still need to be the witness. Otherwise, Manager Li would say he did not know anything about it.” Xin's heart sank. He knew Lian was right. He looked at the river, and further to the sea silently. His vision blurred as hot tears streamed down his cheeks. He knew what he had to do. “What's the matter?” Lian asked softly. “Let's go,” Xin whispered. Lian then quickly grasped his hand and led him to the street where they flagged down a taxi. At the police station, officer Zhao was aware of Lian's work. He listened fascinated with Xin's description of the secret room with the trapdoor and the secret tank with the buttons. “We have tried to catch that nasty manager for a long time. You have done us a great service. I need your identity card so we can register you as our witness,” Officer Zhao said. Xin could feel his heart thumping against his chest. He looked at Lian with wide eyes and then at the tank on Officer Zhao's desk, where a terrapin was staring back at him. “I’m an orphan. I don’t have a birth certificate, so I don’t have an identity card,” he suddenly said. Officer Zhao nodded, and they went out and drove to the factory. At the factory, Manager Li was arrested, and Xin led the way to the secret room. Officer Zhao was overjoyed, and promised Xin that he would help him get a proper identity card. “You both deserve a reward as well,” Officer Zhao decided. “Can we have your terrapin?” Lian asked. Puzzled, Officer Zhao agreed. After picking up the terrapin, Lian handed it to Xin. “There, you can release it and it can pass your message back to your family that the pollution problem has been solved,” Lian said. "You can also tell them that you are fine here with me.” “You know I can talk to it?” “I guessed it when you blurted out the excuse at the police station.” “You know I can't go back home?” “I guessed that as well.” “Can you guess what I'm thinking now?” Xin asked as he looked into Lian's bright brown eyes. Lian looked away. She tried to hide her hot cheeks with her hands. And then they both giggled.

Fiction: Group 3

Home Singapore International School, Hong Kong (Sec), Ow, Grace - 13, Fiction: Group 3

Home

here do you come from?” I have been asked this question a lot lately, by teachers and friends alike. My answer would be, “I’m from Singapore.” This is a natural answer. It has never occurred to me that there was any other place. This was where I spent my whole

life. This was-is still-my home. Recently, my English teacher asked us to research our family trees. I found out that my family was from Guangdong Province in China, in the heart of the Pearl River Delta. This is where my story begins. The Pearl River flows through Southern China, sharing a common delta with Xi Jiang (West River), Bei Jiang (North River) and Dong Jiang (East River) named the Pearl River Delta. This is where my paternal great-grandfather lived, and his parents and grandparents before that. I wonder how it was for him to leave the Pearl River Delta, the place that symbolised familiarity and comfort, for a foreign country. He and his siblings left Shunde in 1940 for a better life. They travelled southwards, some stopping in Hong Kong, others in Singapore and Indonesia. They eventually settled down in their respective countries, and the future generations-including me-were all born in these places. This was the story of many born in that generation. I am born in Singapore, and have lived there for my whole life of twelve years. These are my roots, and so are those. I am anchored in the soil of both Singapore and the Pearl River Delta. Singapore means to me what the Pearl River Delta had meant to my ancestors: memories of my homeland, familiarity and comfort-all intangible, irreplaceable things. These are my roots, where I live, my own personal past. The memories of the Pearl River Delta are my historical roots. It is the place where my family history lies. My personal roots are in Singapore. Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about where my home is. Is it Singapore, the place I have lived my whole life, or is it Hong Kong, my current place of residence? I think I have come to this conclusion: both countries are my home. Home, it is not just a place of residence, it is more than that, it has a sense of belonging, of memories, it is where you can be yourself. In a strange way, I have come back to a place not far from where my ancestors left years ago, in the Pearl River Delta. I have come full circle. I have already told you where the story began, and while writing this, I had no idea where it was going to end. Somehow, I feel that there is no end. I will keep searching for this place called home, whether it is the Pearl River Delta, or Singapore, or somewhere else. Maybe it’s not even a place. Maybe it’s a person, or inside of me. I will have to keep finding myself, my comfort zone, where and when I can be myself. This is my journey of self-discovery. And I don’t know much, but I do at least know this: there are so many places in the world where I found joy, care and respect in my life. Not too far from here, right in the heart of the Pearl River Delta, is the place where my ancestors found these things in their lives, and I have already found it here, in Hong Kong. So many people are lucky to even find one place they can call home. I have found many.

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Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta SKH Lam Woo Memorial Secondary School, Sin, Hin Kiu - 15, Fiction: Group 3

am a small water droplet in the Pearl River. My composition is very simple, simply 2 hydrogen molecules and 1 oxygen molecule, that is what you call H2O. I have existed in this world for many years. When I first existed on this planet, there was not much land. It was the world of water. After

millions and billions of years of continental movements, it has turned into how it looks like nowadays, though there are still some changes from day to day. I am evaporated and condensed into cloud and become rain. I travelled along the Pearl River Delta and had lots of great journeys. I want to share some of them with you. The most impressive thing happened in my journey is probably the 2008 Sichuan Earthquake. When I arrived Sichuan at that time, the whole Sichuan was in ruin. This was much different from the prosperous and vibrant Sichuan that I knew before. The whole city was covered by the sorrow brought by the earthquake. Corpses were dumped everywhere; houses and schools were collapsed; there were people who were crying on the street. They were trying to search for their lovers, sons, daughters, parents and students in the ruin.

I saw a little girl who was about 6 knelt down in front of a pile of tile. She held a piece of dress in her hand, probably belonged to her mother, and used her skinny hand to dig a small hole in the huge pile of tiles and was trying to find her mum, I guess. While she was digging, she wept and used her hands which were full of ashes to rub her eyes. I do not always have lots of emotion but when I saw this, I was going to cry. How could a small girl like that bear the soreness suffered from the death of her beloved mum? At that time, I wish I could be an angel and comfort her, to make her forget all her sadness and stay happy forever.

Together with the cloud, I floated to the schools. I saw teachers sacrificed their life to save their students.

In the city, I saw parents used their bodies to protect their children from being pinned under the tiles and collapsed building; I saw soldiers saving the victims; I saw doctors and nurses healing the victims… I saw the empathy of the people.

~~~~~~ I fell as rain and went back to the sea, together with the movement of water, I floated to Yunnan.

Yunnan is a beautiful city consisting both French-style building and traditional Chinese building. It had been a colony of French before. When I was there, I thought I was in France!

I was being collected by the locals in a well by a bucket. At first, I thought they were going to use me to water their crops but when I bounced and saw what was outside the bucket, I could not see the expected view of a farm, instead, I saw a lot of people carrying a bucket and spilling water on the others! Before I could understand what was going on, I was being spilled on a face of a young man. I grabbed his hair tightly and stayed on his head. He walked in the street. People spilled water on him and he did the same thing to the others. People laughed and when they saw their friends got wet and became very clumsy, they laughed at one another and spilled more water on them.

The whole atmosphere was full of joy. Everyone enjoyed it. Even the dogs joined in the war of spilling water on the others. When they got wet, they shake their body vigorously and made the people and things around them all wet. Then all the people laughed. I wish I could be one of them and the joy together!

~~~~~~

I have been to the Lijiang River many times. The most distinctive scenery is probably the Elephant Trunk Hill. It is a rock which has a shape likes an elephant. In the eyes of you, human, it is just a beautiful scenic spot but to me, a small water droplet, it is an art piece made by me and the wind! The Elephant Trunk Hill was not looked like this in the past. It was just a large piece of rock before but with the contribution of water and wind, we made it likes how it looks like today after many years.

Tell you a secret, this rock was made to memorise the mother love of a mother elephant to a baby elephant. One day, when that two elephants went to the forest to eat fruit, a tiger was lurking behind them and intending to attack the baby elephant. The mother elephant discovered the tiger’s intention and she begged the tiger to leave her child along and ate her instead. The tiger was touched by what the mother

I

Fiction: Group 3

elephant had said and let them go away. Soon, this story was spread among the society of wind and water. We decided to make a statue for them to memorise this. If you see the Elephant Trunk Hill carefully, you will notice there were two acres, one is large enough to let a boat to pass through and the other is smaller and is the entrance of a small cave, those are the foot of the elephants! The myths that you human were saying were in fact not true!

~~~~~~ I have been to Hong Kong also. This place is quite special. At the beginning of the world, it was in darkness. Hong Kong is the first place where we could see the

light, so we named it “facing the light”(i.e. “向光” in Cantonese). There was an traveller who knew our language in the past. He got lost in a forest when he was travelling in Hong Kong. To find his way out, he asked us what this place was called. We told him it is called “facing the light” (i.e. “向光” in Cantonese). I guessed he listened the name wrongly as “fragrant harbour”.(i.e. “香港” in Cantonese). When he saw a village, he told the locals that here was called “fragrant harbour”.(i.e. “香港” in Cantonese). The locals thought it was a good name and kept this name.

The development of this place makes me feel very astonished. About a century before, it was just a fishing village but it turned to an international financial city in just about 100 years. I always think it is a legend. I think human development are not bad and in fact, I like it but it is destroying the nature continuously.

Long time ago, most of the people who lived near the river that I live in was farmers. They usually take water from me and released domestic waste in me. As I have kind of mysophobia, I hate the feeling of being mixed with mud in the fields and the domestic waste they dumped in me. But since animals have existed on this planet, I did not stay clean anymore. When ape had evaluated into human a few thousand years ago, there were more and more waste throw into me. They are not organic waste, but also some could not be decomposed. Let’s talk about the agriculture waste first. Ever since you human started to use pesticides and fertilizers and pesticides, my body become much dirtier than before. Number of algae increases rapidly in the last few decades as the pesticides released to me provide them favourable condition to live in. There were several serious blooms occurred in me. Those algae scrambled the oxygen carried in me and fishes in me died one after another. I could even smell some unpleasant given out from me! I cannot bet on it. Luckily, the disgusting algae were cleaned up at the end but I do not know if they will appear again later. Since there are factories set up along the coast, toxic substances like heavy materials and toxins are thrown into me and this is a disaster. The food chain is being contaminated by those toxic substances. Fishes died quantity of marine organisms in me decreased. Do you know that there were crocodiles living with me in the Pearl River many years before? Can you imagine that there were elephants living along the coast? Due to the development of your ancestors and satisfaction of their desire of eating different kind of foods, crocodiles which lived in me before were all hunted for food, elephants lost their habitat and moved away or died. In the development of human activities, the balance between nature and economy is very important.

I am going on to a new journey now, I hope next time when I have a chance to share my story with you, we can live in a better world. Bye!

Fiction: Group 3

The Evanescent Man South Island School, Kumar, Mahira - 13, Fiction: Group 3

ROLOGUE When I was young, my grandmother used to sit on her rocking chair and tell me stories. The rocking chair was nothing special. It was that unattractive tawny wood with knocks and scrapes from

decades of abuse from children and grandchildren. Her stories, on the other hand, were something I always treasured. They ranged from stories about fairies with shimmering wings and glossy golden hair, to valiant pirates voyaging the squally seas, to furry animals and their ridiculous antics. However, noticeably, her favourite genre seemed to consist of ghostly tales from the past. Consequently, I grew up believing, somewhere in my consciousness, that there was more to the world than just what is visible to the naked eye. Now, she’s no more and with her have gone the stories of these characters that had once been so alive in my imagination.

--------- It was a tumultuous time in Hong Kong. Schools were closed due to traffic restrictions, as the student protests in Central Hong Kong were growing more and more violent. An air of expectation hung over the city as the protests gathered momentum. I had had time on my hands and decided to get into a routine of running down Tai Tam road to Stanley at seven pm every night. Contradictory to popular belief that Hong Kong is and was a jungle of steel and glass, with skyscrapers growing right out of the concrete pavements, amid the urban hustle there are several quiet parks, green spaces, beaches and mountain-top views. Not being much of a city girl myself, I enjoyed living in the slightly suburban quiet part of Hong Kong. Every night when the clock struck seven in the evening, I set off down the path towards Stanley beach. Above me the sky was ablaze with fiery colours. The sun, like a large, orange disc in the distance was partially cloaked by the cotton candy clouds, with the colours of dusty pinks, reds and even hints of purples and blues. The sun seemed to whisper "Farewell" to the world as it drowned below the horizon. In its place appeared, sequin-silver stars like the glowing embers of a dying fire. Darkness fell over me. To the left, the ferocious waves crashed aggressively against the seaside of the desolate beach. Up ahead in the distance, through the blackness of the night, on a lonely rock surrounded by the violent sea, I could make out a shadow of a man. Curiosity overcame me and I slowed my pace in order to take a better look. He seemed to be wearing a long black coat, with ebony coloured slacks. His silver hair, glistening like mercury, was put into a long braid that hung down his arched back, and his long skinny arms were clasped together behind him. As if he felt my presence, he slowly turned to reveal a faraway look in his eyes. We held stone cold eye contact for a brief second before he once again returned to his previous stance. Looking out into the sea. A million and one questions popped into my mind all at once: Who was he? How did he get onto the rock? Why was he there? Why hadn't anybody else noticed him? After a while I realised that there was no use in standing there and pondering over useless, meaningless things. So I turned around, resumed my pace and headed for home. The following nights, I ran down the beach at 7 o’clock and looked into the black seas to once again see the enigmatic man standing in the same place. However, after a few days, my curious nature got the best of me and I felt the need to share my interestingly mysterious discovery with my older sister. So, when we did reach the beach that night, I looked across at the sea and sure enough he was there just like always. “What?” spoke my sister in a slightly irritated manner due to the fact that I had dragged her out in the dark on this particularly cold night. “Don't you see him?” I replied in a slightly confused tone. “See who?” “Him! Right there on the rock? Can’t you see?” I said perplexedly. “I think you’re going mad” she stated bluntly and subsequently took off. She left whilst I stood there puzzled. How could she not see him? The days continued following the same routine, with me continuously frustrated and frankly, a little bit scared at the prospect of being the only one able to see him, for every time I looked out into the horizon I would always see him, in the same place, and staring at the same spot out in the distance.

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Fiction: Group 3

Then strangely, one night, everything changed. I looked out to the sea expecting him there as always, but this time, he was nowhere in sight. Seeing the man standing on the rock had become regular occurrence to me. Him not being there, for some reason, sparked more interest in me. Was he all right? Did something happen? Why was he absent? Throughout the following weeks, I often found myself stealing glances at the isolated rock in hopes of seeing the old man standing there, but every time I did so, I was met with nothing but the sight of a vast ocean with an unoccupied rock protruding out of it like a jagged tooth. During this time I had also resorted to, sometimes, breaking my run and sitting down at the seaside gazing out into the South China Sea whilst watching the breath taking light show that sunset presented. Then one day, while I was doing just that, I felt the presence of someone beside me. So, apprehensively, I slowly turned to be faced with a woman. Her white hair shone as the light from the drowning sun bounced off of it. Her eyes were a piercing black; so endlessly dense it was like looking into an abyss. Her thin, pink lips formed a small, but nevertheless, warm smile. Her pale skin was slightly wrinkled but she radiated elegance and beauty. She was an ocean of contradictions. The woman stood with an aura of confidence that reminded me much of my late grandmother, but I couldn’t quite place my finger on what it was exactly that made me feel that way. She took a seat beside me, and said: “You remind me a lot of her.” Her voice was silky smooth as her lips formed each and every syllable clearly. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” I replied completely ignoring her previous statement – perplexed. She smiled knowingly and replied, “I knew your grandmother. Great woman she was. Always willing to listen and help out. You look a lot like her.” For some reason, I felt this strange connection with her. Was it the fact that she knew my grandmother? Was it that she reminded me of her? Or was it because, as I look at her now, she was looking at the same exact rock that I was looking at just a few moments ago, with a knowing smile on her face? “I’m sorry, is there anything I can help you with?” I replied. She let out a small laugh, and turned to face me. “I know you see him.” My eyes widened slightly in surprise and astonishment. “You mean the man on the rock? The one with the black coat?” She smiled slightly and nodded. “He’s my father.” The silence between us hung in the air like a dense fog, ever so encapsulating and perplexing all at once. “My brother joined the army at a very young age. He was only just a young man when he was sent to fight during the Second World War as a part of the British army. My father was always very against this. He was afraid that if he left he would never come back. So ever since the day he departed, my father would come to this very spot, look out into the horizon, and wait. Wait in hope of someday seeing the grand ships of the British colonial army making their way back home. But they never did. Years later he eventually passed away. Nowadays, I often comeback to this spot, and see him standing right there, on that rock, still waiting for the return of my brother who never came back. I hoped that one day he would accept this and move on.” She looked out to that vacant rock with waves crashing against it, “and I believe he finally has.” I never saw that man again.

Fiction: Group 3

Tale of the Pearl River Delta South Island School, Kwon, Soo-Jin - 13, Fiction: Group 3

r. and Mrs. Helton were proud to say that they were living in a perfectly normal place called Jiangmen, thank you very much. They were the last people you would expect to anything out of the ordinary - the Helton’s lived a quiet, and simple life in the lush countryside in the

backcountry of the Pearl River Delta. They branded no diamonds, no butlers, no lavish expenses, but they had everything they needed, and above all, they were happy. Mr.Helton was a fisherman of the Pearl River Delta, who caught freshwater fish and shrimp. He was a big and beefy man with hardly any neck, you could say this was evidence of his, ample lifestyle. Mrs. Helton was thin and beautiful, she spent her time swimming in the crystal waters of the Delta, and the odd afternoon craning over the garden fence to admire the neighbours vegetable patch. She was rather good at this. The Heltons also had a small daughter called Annabelle and in their opinion there was no finer girl anywhere. Mr Helton relaxed in the pleasant warm evening, sat on his sofa as he did after work each day. He let out a sigh. “Life was good...” Suddenly, he recalled something Johnny said at the village party last week. Something about a Special Economic Zone? Everyone seemed to be talking about it. What is a Special Economic Zone anyway? His thoughts were immediately cut short as a ‘wouaaaaaaaaaa’ pierced the air. Mrs. Helton wrestled a screaming Annabelle into her high chair. Mr. Helton shook his head, and thought no more of the this Special Economic Zone. When Mr. and Mrs. Helton woke up on a dull, gray Tuesday, the story begins. There was nothing peculiar at this stage about the sunlit sky outside to suggest that this day would mark a dramatic change to the Helton’s lives, indeed to the lives of everyone in their sleepy village. The morning began as usual, Mr. Helton whistled as he picked out his usual boots for fishing, and Mrs. Helton hummed away happily as she wrestled a particularly difficult young Annabelle into her high chair. At half past seven, Mr. Helton picked up his fishing rods, pecked Mrs. Helton, and Mrs. Helton Junior on the cheek, and made his way to his boat ready for the day's haul. It was only a dozen or so rows from shore, when Mr Helton noticed the first sign of something peculiar - hovering above the harbour was a thick obscene smog! For a moment, he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was seeing - he jerked his head around to peer closer. What he saw shocked him. Fish were dead, floating upon a layer of an oily slick over the river water. He was startled to see such an unfamiliar sight and shook his head to put the fish out of his mind. Mr Helton was a busy man, so he put the scene out of his mind and proceeded to his favourite fishing spot, by the inside of the bend, thinking of nothing except the large basket of fish he was hoping to catch that day, his hopes remained high. But on this side of the river, the fish are driven out of his mind by something else… As he sat in his modest dinghy, he could not help but notice that vast and oddly shaped buildings surrounding the river. From them billowed a black smoke! – These were the factories that he had so blissfully ignored! It was like a forest fire, he had never seen such a smoke, so pungent, so acrid. The only thing he saw when until this day, was his wonderful river, lined with seemingly never ending cherry blossom trees. The image he was seeing now was totally different to his memories. How had he not noticed until today? These buildings could not have been built almost overnight? The river had turned a charcoal black, and was surrounded by lines of these alien factories, stretching as far as his eye could see. He was now acutely aware that something was very wrong when he realised that by days end, he had not caught schools of young supple fish, what filled his baskets instead, were plastics bottles, dead fish and decayed seaweed. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the basket again, but nothing changed. Mr. Helton

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stopped dead… He could not believe that all the fish were gone. He knew that they were swimming healthily in the freshwater only yesterday. The entire lifecycle of his river had changed before his eyes! After a disappointing haul was brought back home, and an uninspiring sunset, Mr. Helton was finding it harder to breathe, it felt like he was trying to inhale through a plastic bag. He could smell the toxic smoke with each breathe. He was surrounded by air but none of it was doing him any good. As Mr. Helton fought to get the air in his body, his throat tightened closing off his airway. He felt like there was a ten pound weight on his chest and nothing he could do could move it. “How long can they keep it up for? How long can I keep it up for?” At that time, Mrs. Helton was swimming in the river as usual. Suddenly, she heard a huge “BANG” just next to the river. After the blast, there was a flash of the whitest light she had ever seen. The light seared into her eyes like a hot camera flash, but after the heat and light had gone, she was left in the most complete blackness she had ever known. She could feel the sand still shifting between her toes, she could still hear the river trickling on its journey to the sea, she could still smell the saltiness of the coastal air. But she could not see anything at all. Despite the blind confusion and searing pain in her head, her thoughts shifted towards the river. What was going on? Annabelle was only three when she lost her dad, the humble fisherman. She was barely old enough to remember him. The family could no longer afford food and shelter. With her mother now blind from an explosion at a nearby factory, Annabelle was the only hope left to keep the household going - she was just a child. To make ends meet, Mrs. Helton found herself in a plastic factory, putting toy parts together. It was hard but they were left with no choice. It was always the same for Mrs Helton, a crushing pain on just one side of her head that came and went in a pattern. She couldn’t sit, couldn’t lie down or relax. Her eyes would water as did her nose. Annabelle hated watching her mother so unwell. It was the same as the vague memories she had of her father. He would stagger through the high-street, a hand constantly clamped to what was left of his greying hair, crying and wiping snot on his sleeve… Now it was mothers turn for the dreaded headaches to begin… ‘The manicured lawn does the job of excellently concealing the less eye pleasing mud. Thin streaky clouds of a creamy beige are reflected in the pale water of the lake. A sky of an azure blue hangs overhead...’ Mrs. Helton was recalling how the Pearl River Delta used to look. “Stop!’ cried Annabelle. “The only thing I can see is grey and brown smoke. I can't even see over the river!’ Annabelle shouted angrily. The two girls realised that this was here to say. Annabelle had to go. She left to a beautiful shores of New Zealand without her mom because the only work she could find was as a labourer in the plastic factories, breathing in the toxic fumes which killed her dad. She worried endlessly about her mom, but she knew that in order to save her, she needed to leave this forsaken place. On the plane to New Zealand, Annabelle recanted her mother's last words, “Don’t worry about me, honey. I’ll be fine, I’ll write you every week. I wont be going anywhere without a goodbye”. She started her first letter there with renewed with confidence that she would see her mum again, and get her out of this place. One day on the train home, Queenstown, Annabelle was filled with excitement as it was Wednesday, the day that mothers letters arrive. “This one must be a long one, as she hadn’t received one last week!” She could not wait to tell mother about her new promotion! As she walked to her letterbox, a dying feeling began to sink in, as she saw an empty postbox. Two more weeks passed, still, nothing. The story finds Annabelle trudging along a sooty path to a busy hospital in Jiangmen. “Susy Helton, please”, “Room 412 dear, in the chronic lung disease wing”, replied the duty nurse. Annabelle had gone to find her mom, as her letters did not arrive for months. As she found her old home sadly empty, the villagers informed Annabelle that her mother was sick, and in hospital from the toxins at her workplace. Mum had been keeping this from me! Annabelle sees her mother in a bed, alongside many others like her. She felt her heart drop.

Fiction: Group 3

Annabelle raised her voice and call her name "Susy, Susy, can you hear me? It's me, Annabelle, your lovely daughter." Mrs. Helton said nothing but tears. The warm tears from her dry eyes told everything to her. She wondered, “How long until this sickness spreads here? Like it spread through the rivers and soils of her fishing village. How long before it spreads… Everywhere?”

Fiction: Group 3

Pearl River Delta South Island School, Li, Timothy - 11, Fiction: Group 3

he landing wheels of my plane touched down on the grey worn air-strip as I arrived from the country side. Around me were the grey smog induced sky choked the dulled blue sky. Then I looked onto the earth an a grisly sight woke me up. There were people coughing and wearing

masks, some were plastered to their faces in sweat and some were torn to shreds. However I had yet to behold the most horrific sight of all, the Pearl River. The once sparkling magnificence of the Pearl River was obscured in a think grey layer of industrial mortar and oil. The dead weeds and fish were bobbing around. I was shell-shocked, the pride of Guang-Zhao, reduced to a stream of mud and junk. A little bit about myself first, my name is Timothy. I am an average environmental activist from the Guangzhou Province Environmental Caterers Committee (G.P.E.C.C.) coming to inspect the Pearl River I love the wild with a passion. As soon as the landing gates opened I went to my phone and I told G.P.E.C.C.: ”The Pearl River is in a horrific state, I require backup.” While I was waiting for a reply. I dropped my luggage on the rack in the Pearl River Hotel. Once I had settled into my room and ordered some lunch , I received a call from HQ: ”HQ to Timothy, Joe has arrived and coming to your room.” I sighed in relief as I could confide my unpleasant surprise in Joe. Joe was the man with all the equipment if I had noticed anything weird with the Pearl River. Over the last ten minutes, I was trying to convince myself that the pollution of Pearl River was not happening. A few minutes later, Joe rang the bell and I welcomed him in. He is a British man and has sky blue eyes and he shared my inflamed passion for the wild. He is my best friend who persuaded me to join G.P.E.C.C. he also had a sunny disposition which would seem to blow the clouds away. I handed him a glass of gin and said: ” The river is in a disgraceful state and we really should check it out.” So a moment later, we decided that we would have to go down to the river and check it out ourselves and whlist we were doing so the HQ sent us a permit saying that we were allowed into the Pearl River area for a series of experiments. We printed those out in to the hotel’s computer room and head down there to check on the water itself. When we got down there, we found an old stone path leading down to the riverside. The river-side looked sick too. It was bare of any vegetation and there was a smell of some sort of industrial cement or some sort of gravelly oil trickling slowly down the river side causing a thin grey streak of liquid coarsing down the Pearl River. Then if I waited for a while I might spot the odd floating dead body of a fish or two floating down the river. The water was muddy and green, the foul fumes of the river made me nauseous. Joe took his equipment down there and tested the pH of the water to check if the pH was irregular from the usual 4-5 This time, the foul smelling water was an acidic 2.4 which had me quite concerned. The other people who G.P.E.C.C. employed had not measured such low figures and this was against all records. I looked at Joe and said, almost at a loss for words: ”Keep doing tests, I-I-I’ll contact HQ with the information. They will find it most concerning. “ I dashed back onto the lawn and dug out my phone from my duffel bag. I phoned our leader on the direct line and Chan Wing, our strict leader answered and said: ”Mr. Wing here.” then I replied: ”Mr. Wing, this is Timothy reporting in. I have observed that the water is unnaturally acidic. Has this ever happened?” ”Timothy” he said. “I was waiting for you to call, acidic you say, what was the pH level?” ”2.4” I replied. Judging by how silent Chan Wing was I could tell how shocked he was. ”Go, see who is behind all this.“ he said in a forceful voice. I was shocked: ”But-but-but I’m an environmentalist

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not a police or a detective!” I protested. Chan Wing wasn’t going to take a no for an answer though: ”No, You aren’t he said, but that doesn’t means you don’t stand up for nature, you have to stand for what you believe in. After all standing for nature is what an environmentalist should do““Yes sir” I said “I’ll tell Joe” I walked down the lawn to find that Joe was engrossed in collecting and testing samples. And I asked him: ”What is the situation?” Joe looked at me miserably, “This isn’t good, This is a very very dire situation. The silt at the bottom of the river has a pH of 1.5. ”I gasped but Joe wasn’t done “I think someone is doing it. Because the chemicals in the river does not match any factory’s chemical and is too acidic to be unintentionally made.” We decided to stay for the night and observe. We stayed out and watched the sun go down whilst keeping our heads out for suspicious activity. The sunset was marvellous as reds and yellows streaked the sky as the fiery colours splashed across the vast sky. But the scene was destroyed by the vast amount of garbage difting around the Pearl River, emitting a stink worse than day-old cheese sauce covering sweaty gym shorts in a gym locker. I was reclining and just when I was almost dozed off, the two of us were alerted by the sounds of a car door slamming. I hissed to Joe and he cursed and we ducked under a stone. I heard a gruff voice that might have gleefully said: ”The Operation Conquest is almost completed. Now all we need to do is to pour all of these chemicals so the citizens of the area will be forced to leave the area in search for a more suitable spot to live, heheheheh!” I was shocked as I wondered who would want to destroy such a spectacular river. No money would be able to buy this wonder. I looked at Joe and I noticed he had his phone out and he was recording and videoing them. I was glad to have a friend like Joe to help me out. While I was panicking, Joe had gone and obtained evidence. A few hours later we were sitting in the miscellaneous room of officer Chen and we were recounting the story and the video and trying to incriminate the thugs. And by the end of our story, the officer waited for a few moments and the officer’s expression remained plain and said :”Thank you for the information.” Soon the G.P.E.C.C. sent us a task list to do after we were through with this drama. The master-mind of the operation who was a multi-billionaire (who was a company owner and tried to disassociate himself with it but failed miserably). And his goons were arrested of criminal offences. The two of us got a special thanks from the district governor after notifying the police. I mean there was still plenty of chemical waste in that river and it would be a long painful road to cleanse the river of the lasting damage. Chan Wing said that the acids would be removed in a couple of weeks and Guangzhao would need an extensive water supplies and we were happy to help. Now as I sat on the river-bank I had an everlasting sorrow for how our fellow human beings have destroyed our river and neglected the beauty of nature.

Fiction: Group 3

Morning at the Pearl River South Island School, Moore, Milly - 12, Fiction: Group 3

The faint daylight beamed through the cracks in my eyes as I rolled over on my side to look out the window. The sun was just rising over the buildings in the distance, and the clouds were painted with brilliant shades of orange and pink. The grey and blue mirror-glass skyscrapers reflected glittering rays of sunlight, and the vast river glittered with golden stars. The room was silent. I sat up straight and once again glanced out the window. I considered the nagging thought at the back of my head. Should I? Should I not? I could get caught… A loud snore erupted from Mum’s room. I grinned and slid my hoodie over my pajamas, and crept out the door as silently as possible. The gusty wind fiercely whipped my skin. I wished I had worn more clothing. I sat down cross-legged on the edge of the harbor, the beautiful golden orange glints in the river hypnotizing me. Something moved. Just a slightly unsettling movement in the corner of my eye. I stared at the streak of water where it happened until my eyes ached. And then it happened again, though closer this time. I shivered. A fin streamlined through the water about 20 meters away from where I was sitting. Oh my god! A shark! But as the fin protruded more out of the water, it appeared to be a pale, Shell pink shade with soft grey speckles. It looked like it belonged to… A dolphin emerged from the water. I gasped at its elegance. Smooth, pale skin covered its back and its pearly brown eyes shone with intelligence. I reached out a shaking hand to stroke its silky complexion, kneeling forwards on the splintery wooden pier. The creature’s everlasting smile stretched as I came in contact with its muscular body. That was when it whispered. Just a faint sound, but still audible in the faint morning breeze “Can you listen?” It said “Huh?” I questioned rudely “Can you listen? I have a story to tell.” “Umm... okay, I guess” “It all started when the waste was dumped here. In our home. All the scum and grime you don’t need, it goes here. The creatures here are like your slaves. This river used to be clean and fresh, clear and blue. But now all I see when I swim is filthy sewage, clogging up our water. Would you believe the things I’ve seen? Would you… The dolphin told me a tale of sorrow and loss, of all the mistreatment of the beautiful beasts inhabiting the river. A turtle floated through the ocean, a bulging throat of plastic. Its intricate patterns and scaly body were limp, its large eyes glassy. It was dead. A baby dolphin was blinded by the muck and dirt in the water, losing its way from its mother. Swimming in circles time after time again, it grew hungry and impatient, flailing in the water. The pure madness and disability killed it, as it drifted down to the crowded seabed. I gaped with awe as I listened, delicate tears rolling down my cheeks. When the dolphin was finished talking it added one more thing. “Tell someone. People need to know about this. If someone doesn’t do something, it will be too late. You will, won’t you?” I nodded silently. “Good” it said as it disappeared below the waves. The next day I woke up just as early, once again tiptoeing silently out the house. I waited at the harbor once again, in hope that I would catch sight of my dolphin once again. It would turn up, wouldn’t it? I waited 10 minutes. 20 minutes. Still, the dolphin did not appear. The river seemed to have lost its glint; only then I realized how polluted it was. Past the hours of the golden sunrise, the river was a scum-like grey, some areas darker than others. I could see what the dolphin meant by polluted. Once again, I scanned the water for the creature, before deciding it must have swam away for good. I trod slowly past the harbor, before

Fiction: Group 3

reaching the beach. I stopped in my tracks. One dolphin lay on the sand, its smooth skin a soft shell-pink color, its dorsal fin coated with soft grey speckles. “NO!” I screamed. Tears streamed down my face. The creature was unmoving, a trickle of dark blood bleeding into the wet sand. I had to do something. I had to tell someone. “If someone doesn’t do something, it will be too late.” My dolphin had said. And that was what I had to do.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta South Island School, The, Rue-Ching - 13, Fiction: Group 3

h, finally this day has come”, he thought with bitterness, seemingly wanting to escape the scene in front of him, unlike days when the sun radiated its coursing heat deep into our core. Trucks and workers gathered up the earthy soil as dust swooned across him, almost engulfing

his body, as construction workers lifted heavy loads with shiny metal claws that tore the earth with little mercy. Waves of sweat pulsed through the workers on such sunny days as work continued. Imagine working there, beneath the blazing sun: streams of sweat pour down their charcoaled skin and soak deep into their uniforms, as work goes on, no second wasted, to wipe sweat from brow. Manual labor, grim expressions, knotted eyebrows till the day is done, although it never is. He stood there in daze, his chocolate orbs distracted by the sight before him, yet unfocused, staring into air, unaware. His harvest slowly slid from off its shovel, all his farming come to naught. His rough hands, leathered from their farming of the earth, reached deep into the patch of greenery, the new-picked vegetables snapped up and then stacked up beside him. The plants crick-cracked, the crispy leaves made echo as the vegetation snapped beneath his feet and between his hands. His eyes dimmed as he bent down to pick the product of his labor up, the scenery of old days where he spent his childhood flashed there before him. It was back when the place was lively, loud and lyrical; where soft winds rustled through the emerald leaves in the shining sun. Squirrels hopped upon the grass, enjoyed the sapphire sky, the feather-duster clouds and chirping birds, the hover of the butterfly and humming of the bees in search of iridescent flowers. The aquamarine river flowed with flawless ease, a pair of doves cooed deep in love. Yet all this innocence and beauty, all this natural language, was slowly being tainted by the greed, ambition and the selfishness of people in the Pearl River Delta. Quite soon would all this precious, frail life fall foul of man and perish in the dust. There, the irony of water: so pure and clean, the base for life, but smeared here and there with colored chemicals that kill the plants that give us life. Looking back, Li’s farming life, where he was trapped within the outskirts of the delta, seemed now a friend. Change had scared him, fearing the wrecking ball of progress on his life. The family, village life, the paddy and tradition had moved over for a life of factories pumping chemicals into the open sea. These chemicals had viciously attacked the creatures of the sea, which was their home, but now their tomb. Viruses, diseases and disasters then ensued. Once green leaves turned ebony. Creatures cowered, hunted to extinction, while the air filled up with particles that choked the throats and lungs of those who breathed it. Little did Li know the next day would bring change to him, his village, city, country, people and the world at large. It was on a normal day, or so it seemed, with Li at work with tools within his field. As he continued, people watched him from afar in distant fields, just a blob of blue at work within a landscape painted green, an iridescent bloom of juicy fruit that nature had provided over time to feed the world of people. The sky was nice, affording just the right amount of light and rain, although the sight next door of progress – men at work on roads and buildings – was less pretty. Suddenly, a Benz drew up, the people ceased their work, not conscious of their filthy state and stood and watched the car with admiration as it passed.

“A

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It drove on past and made each peasant think about the wonder of this special day and Li, who also stood and stared felt something strange as he traced with his eyes the movement of this foreign object coming closer to his piece of land. Indeed, the black and shiny car was heading his way. Time seemed to slow for Li and then it seemed to stop. The dust blown up in clouds by crunching tires on the gravel filled his eyes, but did not make him blink in awe. Out stepped in elegance a businessman in leather shoes, sweet scented and with style unfamiliar to the eyes of men like Li. “Ni Hao” he said, in eyebrow-raising fluency for just a foreigner. “N-Ni Hao, h-how can w-we help you?” Li struggled to speak English, unused to it as a tool. He was a farmer, but also an educated young Chinese. The seeming twenty-something businessman was pleased to hear his language and continued, “Sorry for intruding at a busy time, but would you mind if I made plain the purpose of my visit? Li agreed with nonchalant expression, hiding my suspicion. “We’re here to happily suggest a project good for both our parties. Will you hear us out?” “Ah...” Li thought. “He has a proposal”. He cautiously nodded, slowly taking in the information. The bad feeling in my stomach increased to a warning and, ignoring the unfinished work, I stepped over to the side and shouted for my parents at the other end to go have a rest, leaving just us to talk in private, but of course inviting him to sit upon the bench beside the farm. “Welcome, to our humble home. I deeply apologize for not being able to get you a cup of Chinese tea”, Li responded. “Thank You, going back to where I started, I would like to propose a plan whereby you and your family can enjoy your whole life without farming. Would you sell us your part of the land within this neighborhood?” He spoke with so much confidence that he was sure he would obtain the piece of land. “He wants to what? He wants to buy our piece of land?” Li’s mind was blank for just a while, then he spoke with pride and confidence, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do that.” “What?” he shouted just a bit too loudly for my liking, the dumbfounded look upon his face breaking my professional facade as I tried to maintain my poker-face. “And why is that” he voiced in an hysteric tone. “Because this is what I enjoy. Look around you, this greenery, the aroma of the wild spices that bathe you, can you say you do not enjoy this?” he continued with confidence in English. The fun and the joy of a farmer is what business man would never understand, to learn how to be grateful and appreciate environment is what is most important, not money. Not only that, can you imagine a society without greenery and animals, only an urban city with no natural beauty in it? Can we live in grey and black, where all we do is destroy habitats, dominate the earth and snatch materials? My pride and conscience won’t allow me to do so and, by that, we’re destroying ourselves, pushing humankind right to the brim of darkness and destruction. As Li finished, his heart swelled with joy and fulfillment, finally able to truly voice his passion and opinion. The businessman, too, moved by his brilliant speech, saw within him, not only a chance to help save society, but also opportunity to explore new horizons. From there, they spend days, to weeks, months, years, even a decade stuck at their office planning, designing, surveys or even going out asking random people on the streets for their opinions and finally , execute and introduce their idea to the society. From the first step, they were meant to be stars, legend itself, as they bring a revolution to the human kind. They never felt that they wasted a day on doing this project, from that they feel proud of themselves, as people start to recognize and applause for them. Are you curious? Curious of what they did? Let me tell you, they, my friend introduced a city where nature and human live together, where earthy materials are being used as construction, houses and buildings where animals and humans can be found in, and lastly, of course a place where greenery and rural can be found within this professional, urban city. Imagine being able to see spacious, yet short houses made out of wood of different shades with flower weaving through the holes as the bee’s buzz, along with the beautiful chirps

Fiction: Group 3

of the birds creating an instrumental harmony. Next to you, is a small garden with spices and herbs grown in spectacular colours, supported by the peaceful sound of wind glazing through to tree’s “shhhhh”, “shaaa” peace finding its way to you as you work, listening to the movement of the big forest. No roads, just your normal original earth under your feet as you feel the grit of the floor as you walk, and if I may add, serves greatly as a foot massage. All energy coming from the solar panels above us on the rooftop, the sun gladly providing enough energy for our daily use of electronics, of course as well, with limitations. But if only, if only we were able to resist the temptations of the human heart, maybe, just maybe, we wouldn’t had fallen so deep into our own trap. Just as the “wound widening in the sky, God is labouring to utter his last cry.” - Report to Wordsworth by Boey Kim Cheng. (Poem Extract)

Fiction: Group 3

Tales of the Pearl River Delta South Island School, Tsoi, Tiffany - 13, Fiction: Group 3

nce upon a time, there was an extremely lonely and forlorn man, who lived in the slums of

Shenzhen. As an adolescent, when he resided in northern china at the golden age of urbanization, he had heard many enchanting tales about the Pearl River delta, the area

surrounding the mystical Pearl River that flowed into the South China Sea, containing megacities and the economic hubs of china. Young and foolish, he was desperate to escape his dull home situated high in the

mountains, seeking a much more extravagant and exuberant lifestyle. So one day, he ventured off, heading for the famous Guangzhou province. The trip was no picnic- He climbed high and low through mountains, swam through rivers, with scarce food and water. But being an ambitious and daring young man, he did not give up and arrived at his

destination after long, harsh and tedious days of travelling, exhausted and enervated. Nevertheless, he had high expectations and hopes for his new life. Immediately, he applied for job applications in Shenzhen,

anticipating to earn a steady income and settle down, but it was not as easy as he had presumed. His applications were refused and turned down, due to his lack of experience and education. Crestfallen but

determined, he continued, working hard to educate himself and applying for even more jobs, but all of his attempts, were, in the end, tragically futile. Devastated, he had no choice but to resort to living in the

disgusting, repulsive slums of the city, and sold little knick-knacks and cardboard he found on the street to make himself a little money. And now, two decades later, nothing had changed. The man himself had grown to be exceedingly bitter and

isolated, but had accepted his unfortunate fate. It just so happened the slum he lived in was located beside a luxurious, lavish and upmarket housing estate, so close he could see the inhabitants from his windowsill.

Admittedly, when he was bored, he would sit beside his filthy, battered window and watch the different families there with an air of longing and envy. As a matter of fact, he had watched them so much he could recognize the residents of different apartments and could read them off at the top of his head. There was the

woman in her early 50s, who had been married and widowed 5 times, each time to a well-known and wealthy businessman who had died under suspicious circumstances, increasing her wealth every time. And

then there was the retired singer and his nineteen-year-old son, who was spoilt rotten by his pushover father and sneaked out every night right under his dad’s unsuspecting nose only to come home in the middle

of the night, heavily intoxicated. And next to that there was a family of four, a vastly successful businessman, his celebrity wife and their two teenage children, a boy and a girl. And last but not least, there

was the young archaeologist couple that had dug up and discovered a large prehistoric site a few years ago, leaving them filthy rich. You can imagine how monotonous and routine this man’s life was. Every day, he woke up and set off to

what he called “work”, where he went to the busy central streets and picked up cardboard, dug up trash cans, and collected things that he could sell. He had grown used to the constant glances of revulsion and

disgust as if he was just a rabid animal scavenging the streets, and no longer took it to heart. Even the occasional look of pity was dismissed, as after two decades he had accepted his misfortune. Once he had sold

everything he took that day and earned the money, he went home and watched the neighboring apartment block for the rest of the day. The rent was sky high and prices for food were rocketing, but he managed,

although barely. He had become acquainted to this lifestyle and thought he would live his whole life like this, but he was woefully wrong.

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Fiction: Group 3

It was a typical summer afternoon when his life took an abrupt turn. He was staring out of the window,

watching the singer’s son walk down the apartment block accompanied by his bodyguard. A gust of wind- and a flash of gold fell from the boy’s back pocket. His bodyguard reached down to retrieve it, but the boy

waved it away impatiently, talking to the bodyguard, as if telling him to leave it and continue. They hurried away and curiosity crept into the man. What was it that he dropped? Was it of such little value that he

couldn’t care less if he dropped it or not, even if it would only take seconds to pick it up? He could not stop pondering about this event, so he went over to look. It was a lottery ticket, with its serial number printed

neatly on it, and it’s brand name inscribed on the ticket. The man vaguely recalled hearing the company name on the street, on an advert. What he did not realize was he was holding the lottery ticket from one of

the biggest lotteries of Shenzhen, but what he did realize was it cost a fortune, so he brought it home, carefully storing it, planning to sell it the next day. Little did he know his life was about to change forever. The next day, he left his slum, grasping the golden lottery ticket in his hand. As he strolled along the bustling streets, a crowd suddenly formed around him. Befuddled, he looked around, and heard shouts and

cheers of excitement. “He has it, he has the ticket!” someone yelled from the mob. The people all stared at the ticket he was holding, some looking disappointed and some thrilled. A woman shuffled forward.

“Congratulations, mister!” She said, beaming. “

Fiction: Group 3

The Step Till Heaven South Island School, Turnbull, Mia - 14, Fiction: Group 3

he sleepy yet quite romantic fishing village of Coloane, a place where land meets sea. I can’t help

but notice the monolithic representative of a god, a divine figure, staring into the horizon. “Sokka pay attention, stop daydreaming”, said Eileithyia. I turn my head towards the chalkboard, and then

to the clock ‘5mins’ till school ends’ I thought. How on earth can my sister be so drawn to such a lifeless subject? I mean religious studies, ‘Why do people believe?’ or ‘What is the meaning of life?’ such big

question that can never be answered. “Class, homework is page forty-seven to forty-nine of textbook, due next week Tuesday, all question,” said Ms. Daphne. I shoved my books into my satchel, and rushed out of

class, down the hallway. Eileithyia caught up with me. “What do you want”, I snarled. “What’s wrong grumpy pants”, she asked. I sighed. “Cats got ya tongue” she said laughing. “Go away, Eileithyia” I hissed. “Fine, just because Utu can't meet you by Mazu doesn’t mean you act like that” Mazu, the only place brother Utu and I meet up every day. Brotherhood bonded by faith and trust, not by blood. Yesterday he told me, he wouldn’t come to the statue, that he had ‘something’ important. What

could be more important than a tradition we’ve been doing since we were six? The next day would reveal the trust between man and god, and I wasn’t prepared for what was installed. A quiet Saturday morning by the coast is normally how I start the day. It was considerably foggy you can barely outline the land stretching off of Macau. I sat myself on a boulder by the water line, took out my

sketching pad and charcoal pencil out of my satchel, and started sketching a distorted image of some sort of reptile. That’s when I made out faint humming noise coming from the thick fog. My brain ignored it, but

for my human instinct of curiosity took over. I gently put down my stuff, and leaned towards the fog. ‘Creak’. I looked down. A three dimensional image of a woman’s face made out of the ripples in the water, hands made purely out of liquid reached for my face and covered my ears. I’m in this state of mind where I’m frozen, paralyzed not

from astonishment neither fear. Her lips moved, I couldn’t hear a thing nor lip-read it. In an instant I was under water, I assume my satchel fell in with me because I see my textbook sinking like an anchor into the

depths of darkness. Next to me, in the corner of my eye I see my picture slowly being engulfed by water, then suddenly stops horizontally right way up. Suddenly a sea serpent like creature came out of my drawing

swam round me then to this female like figure. I finally had control of all of my limbs and I ferociously kicked my legs, and then submerge for a breath of air. I went back down, she was gone.

T

Fiction: Group 3

For One More Time St. Joseph's College, Li, Parco - 15, Fiction: Group 3

remember waking up; it must have been early afternoon. Opening my eyes I saw above me the sky, which was painted in cerulean blue, with long strands of cirrus. It felt warm in the sunshine. Still half asleep, I turned my head and saw that I was lying on the deck of a fishing boat.

My first thought was, “What did I get up to yesterday?” The last thing I recalled was frantically steering my boat away from the storm. Angry clouds massed and the sea roiled. The sky was inky black. The wind increased frightfully in violence, raging and howling at first, and after a time sounding like one continued musketry. A ferocious gust thrust a wall of seawater against the little boat, which kneeled over and at last was smashed to smithereens. I was unable to recall any further details. Not least on account of the bad headache I was suffering from. “Are you OK?” Bent over me was a young lad with a sturdy, muscular physique. His face looked familiar, very much like someone I knew, but I couldn’t recall whom. I deduced that he had saved my life. “Thank you, I owe my life to you.” “Don’t mention it. Put some clothes on,” he said as he tossed me some clothes. It was then I came to the realisation that I was stark naked. He noticed my uneasiness and added, “you were thoroughly drenched and so were your clothes. I was afraid that you might catch a cold.” I nodded absently as I dressed. I was thinking something else. I was thinking about Mei-yee, my wife. The last time I saw her she was waving at me, shouting “come back before dusk”. I was thinking about Ka-yun, my 5-year-old daughter. The last time I saw her she was clutching my leg, entreating me not to leave the shabby but cosy little hut. I wondered how they were doing. They must be worried to death.

*** “Mama, where’s papa?” little Ka-yun sobbed. Mei-yee glanced at the cool dishes and said sanguinely, though not very confidently, “Papa’ll be home any minute now.” But he did not return. He never could.

*** “Let’s have lunch. You must be starving,” boomed the lad cheerfully, dragging me back to reality. I wasn’t at all hungry, but I followed him anyways. He led me to the dining room. On the table there were two bowls of noodles, each with a fried egg and three slices of ham. “What’s your name, by the way?” I enquired. “I’m Tsz-fung.” “Call me Dave.”

*** “Mrs Ho, glad to see you again!” said the miao zhu jovially. “Me too!” Mrs Ho replied politely. She lighted incense and burnt offerings, then ambled towards the effigy of Mazu. She was not in a hurry. She knew the routine well. After all she had been practising this for the past 50 years. In her right hand was a vintage portrait of her husband, Tsz-fung, which was drawn by herself by sole memory.

*** “Tsz-fung, just ditch the bowls at the sink,” Dave stated. “We’ll arrive in Macau in 30 minutes.” Our lunchtime chit-chat provided me with a complete picture: 1. When Dave found me I was clinging on to a piece of plank, half floating half sinking. Yet bizarrely, he

told me there were no storms nearby recently. 2. This boat was heading for Dave’s hometown, Macau, which coincidently was my hometown as well. My headache had alleviated by then, probably at the thought of seeing my wife and daughter soon. “Dave, would you please turn on the radio?” I requested. “I would like to listen to the news. I’m absolutely certain there was a storm.” “Sure.” “The Ukrainian government has lost control of its eastern territories. Although the Kremlin declared Russia has no intention in annexing east Ukraine, the United States agreed to lift economic sanctions.” – huh? Aren’t both Ukraine and Russia USSR?

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Fiction: Group 3

“Fernando Chui was proclaimed the Chief Executive of Macau today. He pledged to ‘build a better Macau’ and said that ‘with prosperous China comes prosperous Macau’.” – chief executive? I had a horrible omen. “Dave? What’s the date today?” “17th April.” “I left on 16th, so that’s one day later,” I thought. “What about the year?” I questioned charily, dreading his answer. “2014 of course! Are you OK?” I felt the blood draining from my brain, and from my face. I struggled to keep myself upright, but to no avail. The bad headache counter-attacked and trounced me, and everything went black.

*** Mei-yee felt a twinge in her chest. She let out a cry. Just before she swooned she had managed to finish her prayer. “Please bring back Tsz-fung to me. I want to see him for one more time,” murmured her barely audible voice.

*** “How could that be?” I mumbled. I was suffering from a splitting headache worse than the severest katzenjammer I had ever had. Hardly could I breathe. I felt like being pounded to a mash. “Stop thinking about it, Tsz-fung! I don’t know whether or not you can make it if you pass out the third time in a day!” Dave reproached. A fraught silence. “You’re right. Let’s get off the boat and see what we can do,” I concluded after cooling off, as Dave moored alongside a jetty. Meanwhile, Dave seemed to be fathoming out something after knowing my story. On the shore stood a familiar Mazu temple. Here is my village. In the distance I saw the hut I had left yesterday, 50 years ago. I maundered towards the hut, composing my thoughts. Dave walked behind. I didn’t notice his look of surprise when he realised I was walking towards that hut. I was too occupied. What should I say when I see them? Would they hold resentment for me? What should I do if so? My mind was spinning and whirling with questions. I pushed the door open. The nostalgic and tantalizing aromas of yesterday rushed into my nostrils. Every single thing was exactly where it used to be. The hut wasn’t musty and hadn’t fallen into disrepair as expected, instead it was neat and tidy. Apparently someone had been taking great care of it. On the bookshelf there were two picture frames. One of it held our black-and-white so-called family photo, slightly yellowed with age. The photo was an epic failure. My face was blurred because the printer malfunctioned. We couldn’t afford to take another picture and that’s my only photograph, so I left virtually no evidence of me ever existing in this world. The other one held a coloured photo of Mei-yee in her 40s with young and beautiful Ka-yun. Beside them stood a young man, whom I assume was my son-in-law. In the picture Ka-yun was cradling a baby boy in her arms. The baby took after his mother. Currents of electricity ran through my body. That baby boy was – “Grandpa, you’re my grandpa aren’t you? You’re the man grandma longed to see. You’re the man!” Dave exclaimed. “I…… I believe so……” I struggled to utter, my voice shaky with emotion. Drrrrnnn! Drrrrnnn – Dave answered his phone. “Mum? What? OK! I’m coming!” Dave yanked at my arm made a dart for the door. We dashed to the pier and hopped on a taxi. “What…… what’s the matter?” I squeaked, gulping air hysterically. “Grandma’s in hospital. She had a heart attack. Most probably fatal.” “Third Floor.” The lift doors opened and we exited. We raced along the corridor and at the very end of it we found the room with a plate saying ‘A&E department’. Dave approached the bed nearest to the window and undrew the eau-de-Nil drapes. Tears streamed down my cheeks.

Fiction: Group 3

She saw me. She was astounded. “Papa?” She saw me too. “My love,” she whispered. My eyes were blinded with scalding tears. “I’m home.” She studied my face. “You are stricken.” I shook my head. She reached out her hand and I held it tightly. “I want to be with you.” “You are.” “I love you.” “I love you too.” She smiled weakly. “Beeeeet –” The electrocardiogram went flat. Her feeble breathing ceased, her head limp on the pillow. “Noooo!!!!!” I screamed. “It shouldn’t work this way!!! I want to see you alive for one more time! No – I want another lifetime! I want to return to the past!” “Papa!” “Honey!” The setting faded. I blinked hard. It were them, my beloved wife and daughter. We were on the beach next to the jetty. The sun was setting over the horizon, and the skies were stained with faint pinks and lavenders and blues. I grasped their hands and whispered, “Let’s go home. The story has just begun.” The miao zhu stood in front of the Mazu temple, gazing at the family filled with joie de vivre in the gloaming. She smiled satisfactorily, content with her effort. She heard the plea from another soul. The story has just begun.

Fiction: Group 3

Cast Away, Cast About St. Joseph's College, Tang, Arthur - 15, Fiction: Group 3

s I embarked on my trip upon the “China Odyssey”, little did I know how disastrous it would turn out to be. A country as big as China, a region as prosperous as the Pearl River Delta, what could go wrong?

It was a fine July’s morning, as I stepped onto the firm planks boarding the “China Odyssey”, everything was perfect. My deluxe suite was clinically sterilized and fully furnished, absolutely sublime. After celebrating “Happy Independence Day” with relatives, I set off to Dongguan with my secretary and friend Felicity Fox to inspect my company’s factories there, upon finishing the task at hand the “China Odyssey” was to cruise us around the delta. The rather ostentatious cruise was home to me, Ms. Fox and another 300 one percenters of China for five days. None of the passengers aboard would be content with a room smaller than a thousand feet, none of which couldn’t afford it. The grand cruise ship’s maiden voyage seemed even more ceremonial than a rocket launch. As the engines thundered, the Odyssey parted the harbor drowning in an air of claps and laughter. Having settled in, the captain bragged all about the ship, how it was designed to be a marine fortress and such. Till then, I’d have to say his claims were well-founded. Sometimes I’d even forget I was on a boat, it was steadier than a tank. Everything was impeccable on this floating mansion. On the third day, rain started to pour from the clouds. The lofty shadows obscured the sunlit horizon, even till nightfall when the ethereal stars illuminated the distant skies, the clouds bested their effort as they shrouded the vast ocean. The colours of all were reduced to pitch darkness, silhouettes no longer differentiable. The Odyssey’s penetrating lights shone across the Pearl River estuary, the surface was as unsettled as a mourning widower. Yet I was too ecstatic to let the downpour rain on my parade, my associate Ms. Fox has agreed to dinner. It’s not a date, but dining with a ravishing young lady is the type of thing that sets sail a fine evening. Just as we were finishing the Parma ham and melon, the cruise shook violently. Something was wrong. The ship shifted to the left vigorously, the fancy chandeliers dangling towards port side. Something was definitely wrong. Thick black smoke started rising from all sides, surrounding it like a bird the ship a cage. Something was terribly wrong. Faintly visible from a distance, we should’ve been around Hong Kong’s largest island at the time. The Odyssey, the ocean fortress, was twisting like a small wooden boat in the middle of the sea. All of our instincts was to run to the life boats, but before we managed to make it out of the restaurant, the monstrous grasp of the ocean torn a hole out of the boat. “Help…” Felicity let out a desperate cry as I caught on to her hand with all my might. Yet my feeble resistance was nothing compared to the strong force of the currents, and was drawn into the depths of the swirl. ****************************************************************************** I woke to a gloomy morning. I was soaked, lying on wooden planks, staring into a grey, dull sky. I looked around me, a small crowd of Asian-looking fishermen in ragged clothes and bamboo hats gathered and was muttering their dialect. I slowly regained my orientation, I stood up and searched for Felicity in my waterlogged surroundings. No sign of her at all amidst rustic houses hovering above water and the Asians surrounding me. “Where am I? Where is Felicity?” I snapped at the people in front of me. I didn’t mean to be rude, but as you can imagine I was rather flustered. The fishermen stared at me stupefied as a young lad toddled out from the unvocal company, “Sir, this is Tai O, you are in Hong Kong. You alone drifted ashore an hour ago. Where did you come from?” “My name’s Olivier Johnson. I was a passenger on board the China Odyssey, the last thing I remember was being sucked out of the cruise with my companion, Felicity Fox…” I started to introduce myself as the boy translated. His parents handed him a newspaper article after I finished, the boy read it and was stunned. He handed me the Chinese article, I didn’t understand a single word, but the graphic photograph of a boat wreckage smack in the middle of the article gave me the picture. “That’s your boat, the China Odyssey. It says the boat sank because it was Jerry-built and that the authorities haven’t found any survivors yet…” My heart sank lower than the floor. Can it be? Is she really dead? I broke.

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Fiction: Group 3

I roamed the Senado Square meaninglessly as I waited for my boat to Shenzhen. Olivier’s phone is there, dead or alive he should be there too. As his secretary I always had to arrange transport to pick him up from hangovers. Instead of having some drunken hussy shriek over his phone when I try to call him every time, I just installed a GPS so I can send his driver to pick him up directly. I woke up on a well cushioned bed, staring at a poker card-covered ceiling. I was in the fine dress I dined in, a robe with golden-embroidery was wrapped around me. Puzzled, I was getting on my feet as a steward barged in. “Oh Ma’am you’re awake! I should telephone the captain…” “Wait a second will you, sir? Where am I?” “Ah yes I was told you might encounter such problems. You ma’am, are on board the Last Gambit.” Turns out I was spotted floating amongst the tides as the Last Gambit, a casino cruise ship bound for Macau lifted me out of water. I asked about Olivier, but none of the Gambit’s crew had knowledge of his whereabouts. I was the only one found. I was devastated, did he make it? Just then I remembered I could track his cell with mine. My phone underwent severe damage but my Cath Kidston that clung on to my shoulder prevented it from being blown to smithereens. It indicated Olivier was in Shenzhen, I tried calling but no one picked up so I decided I’d make a trip there. I was a bit haunted by cruise ships so I receded into the comfort of my duvet until we arrived Macau. I immediately booked a speed boat to Shenzhen, but nothing was available till dawn of the next day. How could I possibly sleep with Olivier missing? And so I wandered the streets of Macau. A city that truly never sleeps, the streets not deserted by the loneliness of the night, the lights not dimmed by the darkness of the night, the crowds not silenced by the serenity of the night. It’s all to my pleasing but my head had no capacity for anything but anxiety. Daybreak yielded the answers I seek. The speedboat effectively delivered me to Shenzhen under an hour, just before I arrived I checked my phone for Olivier. His phone had moved! It was originally near the Chinese Folk Culture Village, now it was located in Shenzhen’s Window of the World. He’s alive and moving! Hope and joy flooded my heart, releasing a yelp of glee. As soon as I touched ground I raced to the renowned attraction of Shenzhen. I followed the GPS signal, into “America”, past “Mount Rushmore” and ending up in front of the pyramids, where the signal indicated Olivier, or rather Olivier’s phone should be in front of me. I couldn’t see him, so I tried dialling, when some Chinese punk in front of me picked up! I was baffled, I stormed up to the juvenile delinquent and questioned him. “You’re going to tell me how this phone ended up in your possession or end up in prison!” “You’re barking up the wrong tree woman! I just picked it up from the docks two days ago! I didn’t anything!” I broke at his words. The docks… it was washed up. That means… that means Olivier…he… he’s dead. I mourned, but life goes on. I booked a plane back home from Hong Kong the next day. Nothing was left to do, I checked the Internet, Facebook, everything. No news of Olivier. He might not have been much except a playboy and an insincere philanthropist, but he was something unique, a dearest friend. I boarded the plane staring out the window in grief. The Pearl River Delta, a prosperous region with booming economy, now laid my friend unfound. I read from the papers, the government took bribes thus permitting the under-built cruise. In a rich-cultured, well-educated civilization it was in the end, human’s most rudimentary greed that killed my friend. I was drowned in sorrow, when a most intimate voice awoken me from the sea of agony. “Fe… Felicity?”

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta St. Joseph's College, Wong, Sean - 12, Fiction: Group 3

Lychee Red

he was in a scene of velvet darkness. Suddenly, she felt something hot behind her. It was starting to get warmer, as if something, something was gliding smoothly across the surface towards her. She decided to look backwards. Nothing. Nothing but a red dot glimmering in the distance. It was

getting bigger and bigger by the second. Finally, she saw it. It was a massive snake, shooting out a fiery flame, and it was getting closer to her. Closer and closer...

Lihung jumped up. What a strange dream! She saw a few lychees before her, plump and red. They were the best in the village. She laughed. She must have been daydreaming again. She picked them and proceeded to the next tree. Her dad planted the trees by Xi Jiang when she was born. She was named Lihung - Lychee Red.

She was covered with sweat. It was hard work in the villages. She looked towards where the river flowed. That was where the cities were supposed to be. No one in their village had been there, but propaganda posters that were everywhere told them that the cities were marvelous, and Lihung thought so too.

She returned to picking lychees as quickly as she could, throwing them into the basket she had behind her. As she felt the lychees, she already knew they were the sweetest and plumpest of the season. She had to pick more to sell to the fruit stall owners who were coming later that day. She hoped she could get a good price. The family needed more money to nurse her father back to health.

Suddenly, “Brr….” It was the sound of a motorbike! She had never seen one since her neighbor married! She rushed to the muddy dirt road and hoped to see it. There it was! The motorbike was shiny and sleek. It swerved and parked in the dead center of their field.

A woman stepped off the bike, signaling the driver to stand and wait. Then she walked towards the door, ignoring Lihung. She was wearing high heels and a red dress, as red as the lychees, trying to avoid stepping on the mud. Then, the woman knocked the door repeatedly. Lihung rushed forward to open it for her. She expected a thank you, but the lady just walked past, ignoring her. Then, Lihung’s mother ran forward and interrupted, “Nihao, let’s… talk inside.”

In the next few days after the woman left, mum was quiet. She said nothing, all she did was to sit by her husband’s bed. But, she also wept alone quietly in the night. Lihung didn’t know why, but she was sure that it was something to do with the awful lady she had met.

Soon, the truth revealed itself. A fortnight later, the same lady came. Then, her mother came and said to her, “Lihung, I’d like you to go with this lady. She will lead you to a factory down the river, where you will earn some money.” Before Lihung could say anything, her mother handed her a red packet. There was a dollar in it. “May you have a safe trip along the river.” Lihung realized what had happened. She had finally got her chance, her chance to go to the city!

They went to a dock by motorbike, then got on a boat, travelling down Xi River. It was daybreak when she left. The water was clear. She could see fish swimming downstream, cows grazing the grass and farmers ploughing their fields, harvesting the fruit of their work. But by the end of the day, there were no more fields and grass and flowers. She could see a dimmed sky, some three storied houses and down in the river, the fish swum slowly. And sometimes, they saw some more boats, going in the same direction as they were.

It was evening when she awoke from a nap. She could see only one thing before her. Buildings, hundreds of towering buildings, with chimneys reaching to the sky, scraping the clouds. Neon lights blinked and

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Fiction: Group 3

blinked. There were cars, driving around in hordes and a faint sound of strange music. She was astonished. It seemed as if she had travelled to the future. But as she looked downwards, she saw no fish, at least no living ones, they were all dead, white bellies to the sky.

Soon, they docked. Lihung was led off the ship and to a massive building just by the river. As she entered it, she saw a beautiful office. It was clean and tidy, unlike her village home, which never was. She walked upstairs. It was the factory. She could see people all wearing pale blue shirts and white hats, with their heads down, cutting and sewing, cutting and sewing. Still upwards, she saw a massive room. It was the dormitory. Walking from one end to the other was like hauling water from the river. It could accommodate at least a hundred workers!

In the first few days of her job, the foreman assigned her to thread cutting, with the easy job of removing all excess yarn from jeans. It was tiring, plus she could only earn 5 yuan a day. But she worked seven days a week, 30 days a month, hoping to earn some money.

The living conditions were not good, and all the windows and doors were sealed with iron bars. The foreman said it was for the safety of the girls, as the city was a dangerous place. She didn’t know why. She had never left the compound. The foreman told them not to leave and save every penny, as by Chinese New Year, he would help everyone send their money home.

One day, as they were working in the factory, Lihung heard a loud knock on the door, getting heavier and heavier. “Thump, thump, thump.” The foreman ran up, panting, “All those under 16, hide somewhere, now, quiet!”

Ten of them ran into the toilet, the only toilet they had. It was stinky, but they had to follow their orders. Then Lihung heard voices.

“You know manager, your building is in quite a bad shape, and look at all those windows and doors…” It was an unfamiliar voice. An inspector! She had heard from her co-workers about them who came once a year.

“Yes, we have been having…some financial problems lately…so…”

“I understand your concerns, but safety for all is a priority for the nation.”

“Let’s go to a restaurant, I’ve reserved a table there, let’s … discuss this there…”

It was getting stuffy in the toilet. Lihung opened the window which was so old its iron bars had worn off. She wanted to get some fresh air. But as she opened it, all she smelt was stinky, stinky smog. There was the decaying of the dead fish, the smoke of the chimneys… She slammed the windows shut.

After quite a long time, the foreman pushed open the door and told them to come out. Lihung was relieved. She was freed from the suffocating toilet. Suddenly, she thought she saw a snake breathing out fire at the corner of her eye, but she quickly dismissed it.

***

It was the night before Chinese New Year—the time when Lihung could go back to her home. And she was. She had just had dinner with her parents. Her father was getting better, their family was smiling…

She woke to the screams and cries of her fellow workers. Lihung was sleepy, but she turned to look at why they were screaming. Nothing usually frightened them. There it was. A giant snake lashing through the dormitory. The snake snapped its mouth open. Fire billowed out. Then, it stared her in the eye. It breathed its fire. Lihung jumped off her bed, and hid behind it, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, her bed had been burnt to nothingness, along with her snoring friend who slept on the lower level of the bunk bed.

Fiction: Group 3

She ran away. The door was burning, and workers were running all over, trying to avoid the menace. She had to find another way! She didn’t know what to do. Then the concrete slabs fell. One after another, they tumbled. There was an escape route! She ran towards the hole in the wall. Behind the hole was the river. Lihung hoped she could jump in it. But the snake followed her. She jumped.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. She was turning. She could see the river beneath her, but she could also see the snake right behind. It stuck its tongue out and hissed in anger. Then it pounced, a huge flame. Lihung saw it grow, powerless to stop it. The flame was soon all around her, wrapping her up like the peel of a lychee on the flesh. She felt burning pain around her.

She screamed in pain, closing her eyes.

She opened them again. A scene of velvet darkness.

Fiction: Group 3

The Worst Day Ever St. Margaret's Co-Educational English Secondary and Primary School

(Secondary Section), Wong, Judith - 12, Fiction: Group 3

thought getting fired would be the worst part of a job, but I guessed I was wrong. The grey, cloudy skies matched the drab uniform of the workers walking to work, most of their faces

buried in their masks. The toxic air only made it worse, making the people’s skin pale and sickly. With their hunched back shoulders and fatigued expression, it was obvious that they were working overtime, and I was just here, watching them pass by. Once, I was in that group of people, dragging myself towards the large factory. Now, I am unemployed, and everything in my head was a large blank. It was devastating. On the bright side, I was free from that demonic factory who had no sympathy for any of the workers. I’ve already found a job that suited me, even though I just got fired a few days ago. It was a change from what I did in my previous job. Instead of overworking in the day, I would be a night guard at night. Surprisingly, they offered such a high pay for it plus it wasn't even difficult at all. Only a day later, I received the letter from the company agreeing that they would hire me which was strange. Firstly, companies often take a few weeks to review it. I shrugged the thought off, and returned to staring at the gray horizon. I set off in work in the given uniform, and I silently pray for luck. Mainly because I am actually really superstitious and avoided walking under ladders (there was a lot of construction around the factory). This was a large toy factory producing toys for famous toy companies. Again I could see the emotionless workers, their eyes fatigued from the work. A person, wearing the same uniform as me, began speaking with a heavy Chinese accent. His voice was squeaky and small, probably because everyone thought I was a little intimidating with my height. "You're Dan Chan right?" I sighed. He said my last name wrong, I hated when people did that. I opened my mouth to tell him that, but he cut me off. "The new night security guard?" I could only nod, no longer bothered by the fact that he couldn’t pronounce anything. “I am your partner for night surveillance.” I held in a groan, as this was the best thing that could happen. At least he wasn’t those people who did friendship bracelets and braided each other’s hair and planned on being best friends forever. “Come, follow me,” said the person. I didn’t move, and instead, I asked a question. “What’s your name?” “You can call me Sam.” I followed Sam to a room with countless screens. They were extremely large, and you could see the workers, every one of them, working on those dolls that gave a slightly eerie feeling. Sam noticed me staring and said, “Those dolls are creepy, but you’ll get used to it.” He began going on about the different screens and the buttons. I was only listening half-heartedly. This job was easy, apart from the dolls with their bald heads and unblinking eyes… I don’t even know how children enjoy looking at their devilish appearance. I shook the thought away before more negative things corrupted my mind and I should focus on whatever my new job partner was trying to tell me despite his weak English.

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Fiction: Group 3

“... and this is basically everything you have to do.” Sam finished. He looked relieved when he concluded his tutorial. He then opened his mouth as if to say something, but he closed his mouth. I glanced over at him suspiciously, but he simply pointed at one of the screens. “They’re leaving.” he told me. Before I could say anything, an older woman burst into the room. She was in the same uniform as me, and I assumed she was a security guard for this factory also. Her face was caked with makeup, hair pulled back in a bun so tight, I almost thought all her hairs were going to fall off when she took her bun off. She eyed me skeptically for a second, before clearing her throat and started to talk. “I apologize for being late, I had some matters to deal with. We hired you for a special reason. One, of course, is to replace the former security guard. Two, there has been some unusual things happening around here.” I didn’t like the sound of ‘unusual things’. “It has… caused some quite unexpected casualties.” I stiffened slightly. I probably did my prayers wrong. “It has been happening for quite a while, and the previous night have all are gone mysteriously.” "Alright, I understand." I answered, trying to sound as confident as possible. After the woman left, I sat down on a chair, staring at the numerous screens. Sam did the same. "What about you, Sam? Were you employed before the other security guards?" I asked as casually as possible. "I... Well, saw what happened to them, but I never could see it clearly enough to provide evidence." he added, "It's not lucky to talk about that at times like this." I decided not to answer any more questions, and continued staring at the screen with all the dolls. The faint buzzing of static screens made it more unnerving. The long silence continued, the longer I stared at the screen, the more it seemed that the dolls were moving inch by inch. Shaking my head, I was probably simply sleepy. I looked over to my right, and Sam was sleeping. Abruptly, there was a deafening crash, coming along with a something falling - I could feel shards of glass hitting my skin. Just as I was about to reach for my flashlight, a sudden piercing sound made me drop my flashlight and cover my ears. I had my eyes open, and I swore I saw a dark shadow, rushing away from the scene. When it finally stopped, I shakily stood up and turned my flashlight on. I shone it around the room, and there was no sign of Sam, except a lot of broken glass, with a couple of large rocks. I stopped at the wall where the woman earlier stood, now was spray painted with which I recognized, a bunch of Chinese profanities. I heard a low groaning behind me, and a small shiver went down my spine. I turned around, and I was glad to see Sam. He was still in a daze. We stood there for a moment, catching our breaths. “Sam, look." I pointed my flashlight to the wall with the spray painted wall. Sam winced a little at the words written on the wall. “Today isn’t as bad as it was at least.” Sam told me. I didn’t say anything back, with the million thoughts buzzing in my mind. Oh god, what did I get myself into? The echo of rapid footsteps was coming closer, and I could feel Sam tense beside me. Gladly, it was only the woman who warned me about the strange things happening. She simply took a glance at the wall, and asked us immediately, “What happened?” I explained to her about the crash, the broken glass and the wall. “We should find somewhere else to talk about this.” Sam suggested, his eyes darting around the room looking for any signs of abnormal activity. I agreed, and so did the woman. We went to the convenience

Fiction: Group 3

store nearby. The shopkeeper seemed bored, and sleepy. He didn't even look up when we entered, so I guess he probably wouldn't eavesdrop on us. "We need to do something, before it does hurt us. According to previous events, they are trying to scare us, every night more and more worse than the previous night, and if we don't act fast, we're -" The woman imitated her neck being cut open. "We were lucky today, I think the person doing this was probably surprised." "Why don't you call the police and let them deal with it?" I asked. The police seemed like a much better idea. "That's because it's going to go on the media, and companies won't hire us to manufacture anymore, seeing that there are possibilities that their products will be damaged, and that won't work well." The woman replied. "First step of finding out the criminal - be the criminal." Sam suggested. Before he could say anything else, a man walked in, and I realized he was the CEO of the old factory I worked in, because on his shirt, was the familiar logo that I resented so much. Apparently, he didn't seem to recongize me. His name was Bob. "What are you folks doing here so late at night?" He asked, with a grin so friendly it seemed suspicious. "None of your business," I replied quickly. I didn't trust this man. If he could make your life like a nightmare, he was probably the devil himself. Sam smacked my arm. "Don't be rude, Dan." I muttered a quick apology, and Bob only laughed. "No worries. I just came in here to get some food, then go back to work." He said. My expression remained brittle until he left. "Why is he doing stuff so late at night?" I questioned the others. Did anyone even realize that? "It's not really that unusual for other workers to work overnight." The woman replied me. "Why were you so rude at him anyway?" "Nothing, I simply didn't want anyone else to interrupt us." I decided not to tell them about my old job. My head wouldn't stop thinking about Bob though. Factories hating other factories weren't uncommon; because they all were very competitive and wanted earn more money, of course. But destroying and painting graffti on the wall seem more cowardly than being competitive. "Okay, Sam, you can continue your idea." The woman said. We continued discussing about Sam's plan, even thiugh it wasn't so ideal but it was the only chance we have. After a long time, light began seeping through the windows. We agreed that the plan should happen tonight, and we were off to do our own things. And there went my first day of work. I was so exhausted from what had happened today, and once I reached home, I slept without bothering to change my clothes. It was the afternoon when I arrived, the glass was swept up but the graffti was still there. Sam already went up to the air ducts and observed - there were some dents, so it was obvious that someone had been up there. The attacker must have thrown rocks through the air ducts, probably with another person turning off the power for the lights. We loosened the grill bit of the air ducts, so when the attacker started throwing rocks, the grill would fall off and we would be able to see who it was.

Fiction: Group 3

And so Sam and I sat at the room again, with a small laptop showing the activities of the workers. "Shouldn't you be looking at the air duct?" I asked him. "Dan, you were hired to be a night security guard and look out for any robbers. Also, the attacker would obviously realize that something was up." Sam answered in a low voice. I nodded and went back to looking at the screen. There was nothing much really, and this was also mainly why I chose to do this job. I began to feel drowsy, but I forced myself to stay awake. The attacker could come anytime soon. As I was about to close my eyes and take a 2 second nap, a sudden clattering sound made me jump to my senses. And on the floor, was a dusty, black clothed man. On his shirt, was only the too familiar logo of my old job's factory. The woman stormed into the room, glaring at the man. "I called the police already, they'll be coming here soon." The man was still in a daze, obviously confused. Me and Sam had already tied him up tightly, preventing him to escape. The man struggled to get out of the ropes, but obviously he wasn't strong enough. Grunting, he asked, "What do you want from me?" Sam opened his mouth to say something, but his face was as red as a tomato, furious. Looking out at the small window. Sirens were blaring outside. The man struggled even more, his eyes wide when he knew what was going to happen. The police rushed to the room, and arrested the man. A few days later, this was in the news - the demonic factory I used to work in was now closed, since their CEO got arrested for trying to harm other factories. Apparently we weren't the only ones being affected. Most factories along the Pearl River Delta also had been suffering from these attacks too. Other than that, my salary got a rise too. Maybe I was wrong about this being the worst after all.

Fiction: Group 3

Stone of Lies St. Margaret's Co-Educational English Secondary and Primary School

(Secondary Section), Yung, Jess - 12, Fiction: Group 3

here was no escape. He always knew that. It crept up his spine, reminding him, taunting him. It ate up his sanity, bit by bit.

He was a successful businessman, his brand of watches well-known across the world. Newspapers and magazines praised him, and people gushed over every detail. He was invited to many parties and press meetings. He smiled widely, shook hands, laughed over wine and quality food. He answered questions, and people answered his. But, every once in a while, a flicker of fear would cross his eyes, and his hands would wring themselves together. He had a secret. A dirty, rotten, secret. His watches were a fraud. The leather bands on his timepieces weren't leather, the diamonds that adorned the bezels weren't genuine. The internal parts were from other brands. All the parts were illegally shipped in. Then, they were sent to his factories for his workers to put together. They had absolutely no idea that what they were making was against the law; they were just following orders. Now, this businessman was scared. There were fakes everywhere. Recently, there was a news about Dr. Dre Beats. People were selling counterfeits at a cheap price to others. He could see greed poisoned people's hearts, and took away their conscience. They were shamed when they were found, fined by the police. He was afraid they would catch him next. The consequences frightened him. He imagined situations where he didn’t lie in the first place, where he could've become a successful businessman, without all the fibs. So he hid his lies, and for many years, he kept it that way. His smiles masked his fear, his stiff arms disguised shaking hands. He was trapped in his own dishonesty, and he saw no way out. One Sunday, to get away from everything, he decided to go for a walk by the Pearl River. He had grown up by the shore, and it held memories of a once simple life. So, he took a cab, and went off. When he arrived, however, his memories seemed like a fairytale as he scanned the contaminated river. There were no huts anymore, just rocks. Sewage pipes spewed out foamy waste waters. The place he used to know no longer existed, it was long gone. He tread slowly, still shocked by the changes. Pebbles pressed gently against his shoes. He walked for a few more minutes before spotting someone in the distance. It was a girl. She seemed to be no older than ten, and her raven black hair fell across her shoulder. She was dressed in bright pink, making her stand out from the colorless background. She was sitting with her back facing him, attending to something. He sped up his pace, and made his way to the child. When he neared the girl, he quietly slowed to a halt, afraid that he would scare her. “Little girl, what are you doing?” He asked, ‘Where are your parents? They must be very worried about you.” The girl looked back at the businessman, and he took a step back; her face was smeared with goop, and her eyes looked too big on her face. “I’m helping the duck,” she replied, “It got stuck.” She held up a full grown duck, its feathers covered in a mess of brown glop. “So I have soap,” she points at a nearly used up soap bar alongside a bristly brush, “And a scrub, so everything will be alright.” He looked at her, and sighed. “Little girl, it will take more than just soap and a brush to get rid of that.” He sat down next to the child, not caring about his suit or his pants. “They are very hard to get rid of.” He took the soap and rubbed it on the feathers of the duck. It quacked loudly, but didn’t budge. “See?” He stopped scrubbing after a minute or so, and put the soap down. “It's still there.” He smiled sadly at the girl. “You should go home,” He got up and offered his hand to the child, “Tell your parents you fell into some mud, you don’t have to tell them about this.” The girl pouted and crossed her arms. “No!” she insisted, “I’m not going.” She went back to scrubbing the duck. “Mother said to never lie. She knows I’m here, and I always get home before sunset.” The girl scrubbed harder. “Mother doesn’t have time to scrub the ducks with me now. She works at night, and sleeps during the day.” The girl put down the soap, and picked up the brush. Gently, she lifted up the wing of the duck and brushed it softly. “She would say that the stuff was lies, and that we were helping them get rid of them.”

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Fiction: Group 3

After a few more strokes, bits of the stuff began to flake and fall to the ground. “And she would always tell me a story when we cleaned the ducks.” She looked up at him, a small smile on her lips, “Do you want to hear it?” Overtaken by curiosity, the businessman nodded. “Once upon a time, there was a little rabbit,” The girl started, “Its name was XiaoTiaoPi (Little Naughty). XiaoTiaoPi would always lie to his family. He would say he was going out to find carrots, when really he was going to steal carrots from other rabbits.” She scrubbed a bit more and more of the glob flaked. “One day, while he was going off to steal carrots, an eagle swooped down. Instead of grabbing XiaoTiaoPi, he dropped a small stone into XiaoTiaoPi’s ear. From there, the stone travelled to his heart, where it grew bigger and heavier. At first, the little rabbit didn't mind. But, after every time he lied to his family, the stone would become heavier.” The little girl moved on to the next wing. “Finally, after lying to his family so many times, XiaoTiaoPi died. The stone became too heavy; his heart could not take all the extra weight.” “His family wept and buried him. They cried for three whole days. Then on the fourth day, a small stone was on top of XiaoTiaoPi’s grave. It had fine writing on it, and it was a note from XiaoTiaoPi. Dear Family, it said, this is my stone of lies. I lied to you about the many times I said I was going to find carrots. I stole them from other rabbits, I never found them. I know you may hate me for it, and you have every reason to. However, telling you this has taken away my fibs. I now know that only the truth will set me free from my dishonesty. They buried the stone next to XiaoTiaoPi. People say that if you walk by XiaoTiaoPi’s home, you will see some carrots growing in the ground. It is XiaoTiaoPi's way of saying sorry.” The little girl put down the brush, and looked at the businessman. “Did you like it?” The girl asked the businessman. “Very.” The businessman replied, “I must go now. I have something to do.” He bid goodbye to the girl, gave her money to buy more soap and brushes, and took a cab to his office. From there, he arranged a press meeting to be held the next day. At the press meeting, everyone expected he was going to introduce a new watch, or inform them about how well his business was doing. What they didn't expect was a stuttering businessman, admitting to fraud. He choked on the words, the light blinding his eyes. People were horrified. The person they looked up to wasn't who they thought he was. The businessman didn't go to jail, despite the protests. He used the money he'd earned to bail himself out, leading to a permanent downfall in his business. His factories closed down, and eventually, his company did too. A few days after his company closed, he went to visit the river again. He spotted the girl a few feet away, cleaning the ducks with a woman. Without a sound, he walked over and sat down with them. "Hello sir," The little girl chirped, "This is my mother." The woman next to her smiled, a duck in her lap, and nodded her head in greeting. "The factory I worked at closed down, so now I can clean the ducks with her. I found a job at the local market instead where I have fresh air,” the little girl's mother told the businessman, "Here, you can try." She offered him her soap and brush, and he scrubbed. Flakes fell to the ground. "No matter how dirty, you can always come clean." The woman abruptly said, "It's never too late." As if on cue, the duck in her lap spit out a stone into the businessman's hand. It was light, and clean like a pearl. He admired it for a moment, then put it in his jacket pocket. After a few hours of cleaning birds, the three said their goodbyes and left. And as he walked away, the gentle weight of the stone in his pocket reminded him to never hide in lies ever again.

Fiction: Group 3

Found St. Mary's Canossian College, Chu, Felicia - 14, Fiction: Group 3

picked up the intercom when it rang for the third time. My secretary cleared her dry throat and begun urgently, ‘Mr. Ng, I’m here to give you the updates on the workers’ strike. The workers won’t go back to their positions. They are still striking at the main gate

of Building 2. We’ve tried everything, but they said they must have their holidays during the Chinese New Year.’

A memory. I was sobbing noiselessly into my dirty sleeves. My elder brother knelt down and hugged me. He

muttered softly to my ears, ’Shush, now. Don’t cry. I’m here. I’m always here for you.’ I buried my face in his strong shoulders; feeling assured that they will shield me from anything harmful in the world.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts as I turned on the CCTV on my computer. It showed a crowd gathering in the open next to a building. The people were moving restlessly. Several guards were stopping a man from putting up banners with scrawled words, clearly written by an illiterate. Another man, his voice barely audible over the mess, was swearing into a speaker. They looked so tiny, like ants on the muddy road I used to poke branches at when I was a child living in a rural countryside. In fact, they were ants in my eyes. I could fire all of them any moment and they would have no income. Who would be banging on my doors begging for a job then?

I snickered as I shut the intercom off. I stood up and walked to the plate-glass window on the left. My office, situated on the top floors of IFC, had a full view of the Victoria Harbour. Ferries sailed on the glittering water in the dawning sun.

I couldn’t help breaking into a sneer. Who do they think they are? I dialled a number on my phone. ‘Yes, your loyal senior manager speaking,’ a breathless voice answered. I scowled at my friend’s poor sense of humour. ‘Tell them that getting all their work done should

come before their vacations. Plus, I have already paid them for extra working hours according to the law. If they still refuse to give in, we shall cut their incentive bonus.’

‘Alright, I’ll tell them right away,’ the loyal manager Charlie replied obediently. I had always pride myself on setting up a company large enough to be in the Fortune Global 500 list

with my partner, Charlie. I was born in a small village in China. Before I turned ten, my family was so poor that they sold me. Eventually I got adopted by a couple from Hong Kong. I had to share bedroom with a stepsister who ceaselessly teased me about my background. Once, when I was studying at the only table in our room, she threw me out. ’Stop pretending to be diligent, you little village git!’ She yelled after me before taking my seat and start flipping through a tabloid magazine. I had never fit in with my adopted family.

Perhaps that was why I did not understand why my workers wanted to go back to their families so badly.

Within an hour from my Hong Kong office, I was standing in the centre of my factory site. Countless concrete buildings stood neatly in the surrounding area, Shenzhen, a well-developed industrial zone. I looked on expressionlessly as police officers pushed the workers on strike into police cars. They were still shouting their lungs off with slogans. Their face flushed with fury and desperation, labour-beaten hands clenched into fists. One of the leaders in the strike recognised me from afar. His hands were tied to his back, but I could feel his agitation as his dark eyes bore into mine. His facial expression was so familiar. It merged and combined with my elder brother’s face in my muddled mind……

The large boys cornered me. I had never felt so helpless in my life. I braced myself for a blow but none came. Instead, one of the large boys landed on the ground with a loud thump. I lifted my gaze confusedly. Rage was bubbling beneath my elder brother’s coloured cheeks. His tall figure towered over the bullies, fist raised, ready to strike again.

I shivered and turned my back on the chaos behind.

A month later

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Fiction: Group 3

Brrrrrrg! Brrrrrrg! I picked up my phone and a familiar voice boomed through the speaker excitedly, ‘Sean Ng! Can you hear me?’ ‘Yes, Charlie, I’m listening. Please calm down,’ I rolled my eyes and replied. He laughed mysteriously and said, ‘Guess what? I joined a voluntary campaign last week, you remember that? I pass your home village on the way, so I walked around a bit. It’s the same you’d described to me. It’s unbelievable! Anyway, I met a pair of old couple. I recognised them right away: the old man looked exactly like you.’

I stood rooted to the spot. He continued, ’I venture upon making some inquiry and it only makes me surer that they are your

long-lost parents.’ All the air seemed to vanish from my lungs. My brain was reeling faster than ever. I went back to the days when I climbed trees in my backyard to pluck their fruits, when my brother chopped woods on the hills and crafted toy figures out of small wood chunks with his skilful hands, when civil war began and my father was enlisted, when I forced myself to swallow all my tears as I was sold to a stranger by my own mother…… I vaguely heard Charlie speaking on the other side of the phone,’ …… your elder brother …… back home too……can’t wait to meet you……’ Charlie would bring them to Guangzhou Railway Station. I remembered the cornfield that used to stretch on for miles in this area. I looked around. After forty years it had evolved into a train station, hectic with people rushing around with luggage. I had parked my Porsche near the exit. Drumming the steering wheels, I was trying to ignore the twisted feeling in my guts. I vaguely feel people’s lingering stares on my fancy car. I checked occasionally my Cartier watch, but feeling it a bit out of place, decided to tuck it under my sleeve.

The afternoon sun light danced on the rim of my sunglasses. In the crowd I spotted an indistinctly familiar guy walking towards my car. It took me a few seconds to realize he was one of the leaders who led a strike in my company. He was getting closer and closer. I got out of the car, just for the sake of finding something to do, determine not to look in his direction.

My heart made a terrible jolt as someone tapped me on my shoulder. I turned around slowly and was relieved to see Charlie’s grinning face. I moved my gaze to the two people next to him. Charlie had not exaggerated. My parents were the same from my blurred memory: my mother beaming affectionately, my father with features the same I had seen on my face for my whole life. I stepped forward and hugged them tightly. Inhaling the deep scent of medicine oil of my aging parents, I felt at home for the first time since I left them.

‘Where is my brother?’ I asked my parents with trembling voice, dreading for the worst. ‘Ahh, don’t worry. He’s taking our luggage,’ my mother assured, ’Look, here he comes!’ I followed her gaze. My smile froze on the corner of my mouth when I saw who the last person was.

His grin froze too. It was the guy who had been striking for workers’ rights for the past month in my factory. I forgot how to breathe momentarily as colour drained from my face. Charlie’s eyes swivelled between us. Perplexity was written across my parents’ face. Charlie finally broke the strained silence and asked, ‘Sean, what’s the----‘ ‘He is not my brother.’ I would not believe my elder brother had said this had I not seen his lips moved.

I could almost feel the surrounding dropping ten degrees. ‘Bro, listen. It’s not like that…’I began. ‘Don’t call me your brother.’ His glare was like drawing a sword through my thumping heart. Did my

workers felt the same way when I told them they can only have three days of holidays? I remembered them clutching the train tickets they have fought for god knows how many months. Regret pounded through my veins like corroding acid, making my insides squirmed terribly.

A hint of tears glittered on the wrinkled corner of my brother’s eyes. I hugged my brother the tightest I could and buried my face in his strong shoulders, hoping he could feel the indescribable emotions that were surging up inside me like raging currents of water rushing along a river.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta St. Mary's Canossian College, Kot, Erica - 13, Fiction: Group 3

loved the sea.

I liked to swim in the great beach and enjoying the cool waves, gently slapping me as I go. But I definitely do not like falling towards it at the speed of a bullet. I have watched enough

television to know that if you plunged from places high enough, you would crash and end up having your organs mashed up like potatoes.

How did I manage to get myself into such a mess? I dimly remembered something about…an invitation card? It was something about a competition.

Thirty seconds till impact now. I quickly did a posture --- what those divers would do if they are near surface.

Splash! I hit the water surface, loud and hard. If I ever had to make a top ten list in my finest moments, I would not add that sound in. It sounded like your normal diving noise, only ten times louder.

Frantically, I looked at my surroundings. After a lot of swimming, I found a raft. The owner of it, a boy about twelve peered at me curiously, even when he was helping me onto his

little raft. He had large round eyes and wore clothes that were ragged and drenched, meaning it wasn’t in much better shape than mine. Finally, he asked, ’Who are you? How did you get here?’

‘Err, I am Lily, and I definitely do not know where I am, why I am here, and how I got here. Who are you anyway?’

‘Okay, I’m Tim. You must be new here. Guess I’ll give a couple of pointers to you. First off, we’re in this lovely place called the Pearl River Delta. In case you don’t know where it is, you can just forget about it. Second, why we are here… well I’m not that sure. Third, I think I just got an invitation card and the second later I was here. Now you know as much as I do.’

Suddenly a loud voice pierced from nowhere. ‘Hello contestants! Welcome to the battle arena!’ The battle arena? I looked at Tim, who shook his head, meaning he didn’t understand much more than I do. The loud blaring voice continued. ‘Contestants, sail and survive through the Delta! Win, you shall be rewarded! But if you fail, you shall

linger here forever! Your mission, your place to go is…Hong Kong!’ Somewhere, a loud horn sounded.

And the battle began. We rowed. We rowed and paddled until we had energy to only sleep. One day after a nauseating day of constant rowing, I asked Tim, ‘If we won what would you like to do?’ ‘I would go to the wonderful school, which I dream about always.’ ‘Are you kidding me?’ I said. I would’ve jumped from astonishment if I had that energy to do so. He looked at me crossly ’Really? Try growing vegetables all day and suddenly you find out you can learn reading and writing. I grew up in a small village and my parents were just poor farmers, so poor sometimes we are forced to starve in the winter.’ Poor boy. No wonder he was fighting so intensely, even more than me, who is desperately trying to get out as soon as possible. He is fighting for his future. Then one day we spotted a sea serpent, but it found us before we saw him. We were trying to fix a little hole with a little duct tape I found on the waves when… Wham! A giant knocked our wooden raft over, causing it to do a double flip and land in a crash. ‘Incoming!’ Tim yelled, thrashing in the water to get back to the raft. Meanwhile, I noticed the great serpent, a huge, mottled green snake with very bad dental care was staring at us, quivering like…laughing. ‘Stop that!’ I yelled. Tim looked at me, confused. Then he looked at the snake. ‘Um, hello.’ The serpent rolled his eyes(or what I think he is doing) then said, ’Well?’ ‘Hello, my name is Lily.’ I tried for a charming smile, but my face wouldn’t budge. It was stuck like cement.

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Fiction: Group 3

The serpent studied us both and after a few minutes, he finally said, ’You want to go to Hong Kong, yes?’ ‘We want that very much.’ we said, nodding. ‘Here we go. I suppose you want advice?’ ‘Why not?’ He considered that for a moment. Then he said, ‘I could, but…’ ‘What?’ I was already very impatient at this. ‘I want food, of course. You don’t suppose anyone could chat with an empty stomach, right? Fish would do. I want two good big fishes.’ After a bit of hunting, we finally got to the main subject. ‘I am the guardian of this ocean, ‘it began ‘for five hundred years. There used to be a lot of fishes and many

different species of it too! It was a good life.’ He sighed, chomped out a big chunk of fish, and continued. ‘Then the humans came. I am still very young, but my older cousins said they had seen everything. The

humans never stopped polluting.’ Sad. I had countered pollution in many occasions. The hermit crabs hid in bottle caps. I had once

thought to discover a seashell, only to find it a shard of metal. ‘I feel for you, big guy. Now, about the information to Hong Kong…’ ‘Oh, it’s there,’ he said, pointing to a distant glimmer of light with his tail. ’But do remember: do not pollute. Well, time to say goodbye. It felt good telling that bit of story. You see, I made this survival game. ‘What!’ It seemed impossible, but at the same time, it made sense. Tim wasn’t that fortunate though; he staggered and nearly fainted. ‘But how…and why?’ ‘Well it was tough, but I had a few helpers. Plus, I had a little magic in me. As for why, I think you know. Thank you for the snack anyway, and the patience. A gift for you…’He swished his tail and two sapphires appeared in our hands. ‘So farewell my friends! I do hope you can get to the finish. After the great serpent swam away, we rowed to the great metropolis, where a man was waiting to present

us the grand prize.

Fiction: Group 3

Freedom St. Mary's Canossian College, Kwok, Mary - 13, Fiction: Group 3

miss the ocean, the ocean with endless clear blue water in whatever direction you look; the ocean where I can leap out of the water freely, doing spins and flicking my tail; where I can swim after shoals

of fish and eat what I want. I miss my home. Most importantly I miss my freedom.

I was taken from my home a week ago. Some fishermen caught me in those nasty nets that they use to catch fish. They brought me on to a ship. Just when I was about to escape, a few man came. They sedated me, so

I could not struggle or move. They lifted me into a tank of water that was barely big enough for me. They took me into a big park where there were lots of noises and lots of people. Finally they took me into a dark

room which I did not like.

I had been trapped in this tank ever since. The water was disgusting. They had never cleaned it or even bothered to change the water. It was warm and murky. I dare not swallow any of it for fear that I might die

of poisoning. People came at 12:00 every day and they threw me fish that had already gone bad. I hated this place. I also hated those stupid humans who thought that they knew everything.

Suddenly, someone came. They took my tank to a larger room where I could see a large pool with other

dolphins. Then they lifted me into the pool. I did not struggle for I know they would sedate me if I did that. I swam around the pool, exploring my new prison. I looked at the other dolphins. They had a faraway

expression on their faces as if they stared straight into blank space. I swam over to them and asked, ‘Hello, do you know why I am here?’

They looked at me and for a moment they seemed to see me, but then they all rushed past me as if I wasn’t

there and swam headfirst towards the glass wall squealing excitedly, ‘I see it, I see it. Yes, it’s there, the sea. It’s there, we’re home.’

‘Don’t they see they’re trapped here? Don’t they know where they are?’ I wondered. Then I realized they

had already lost themselves in this prison. They were mad. The longing of going back to where they belong had driven them insane. Then I started to panic. Was I going to become one of them? Mindless creatures for

display? I looked at the people pressing their ugly faces against the glass wall and I knew I could not stay here anymore. I must break free. I thought hard the whole night. Finally I came up with a plan. It was not a

very good plan, but it was the only chance.

When the man who fed us came the next morning, he saw me lying motionless at the bottom of the pool.

‘Hey!’ he yelled ‘Wake up! Here’s a nice bucket of fish for you.’ Then he poured the contents of the bucket into the pool. The other dolphins swarm around the disgusting,

slimy fish. This made me angry. But I reminded myself I must continue to play dead otherwise I would be here forever. The man who fed us seemed to think I was dead. He went away to fetch someone to help.

After a while, some divers came. They observed me for a while. ‘Do you really think it’s dead?’ one of them

asked.

I

Fiction: Group 3

‘Of course it is. How thick can you get?’ the other one replied with a mocking voice. ‘They’re animals. What can they do? Play dead in order to get out? Don’t be stupid. Now stop fooling around. Let’s just

throw its body away and get out of here. ’

They dived in and picked me up. Then I was dumped in a foam box along with other rubbish to be disposed of into the Pearl River. The smell was unbearable and I nearly threw up at the smell of it. The box

was then loaded on to a truck. A short moment later, I was on the road. Now I was out of the tank and on my way back home. I just hoped the journey would not take too long or I might die of dehydration.

I was parched by the time I arrived at the riverbank. My skin was blistered by the baking hot sun and the

stuffy air made me almost impossible to breathe. When the truck driver finally dumped me along with the rubbish into the river, I almost passed out. The river was even worse than my tank! There was a layer of oil

on the water and rubbish was everywhere. The worst thing was the water itself. Different chemicals in the water produced a disgusting mixture that burnt my skin. I swam as fast as I could towards the ocean,

ignoring my watering eyes.

After a long, long time, the water finally started to become clearer. This gave me some encouragement. I swam a little faster and my mind became clearer. At last I saw a fish speeding past me. I looked around and

saw the world that I was familiar with. There were fish everywhere. Some were silver and shimmered like mirrors and some were rainbow coloured. I swam around the ocean, savoring my freedom. I leapt out of the

water squealing in delight, doing flips in mid-air and diving back down.

At this point I realize how hungry I am. After chasing schools of fish and filling my stomach, I rest for a while. I think about those poor dolphins that are still in the pool, yearning for freedom. Although I know

there is nothing I can do to save them, I still regret leaving them to suffer. Looking at this beautiful world, I feel sorry for those humans who cannot see this. This is better than anything that humans can create. This is

true freedom.

Fiction: Group 3

The Whirlpool of Time St. Mary's Canossian College, Lee, Lauren - 13, Fiction: Group 3

don’t remember how old I was when I met him. He was a beat up fish with damaged fins and scars that were painful to look at; he reeked of some kind of chemical, and had bags under his bloodshot eyes. He also looked as if he was about to pass out when I told him my name. I

thought he was a complete psychopath when he told me that he came from the future. The whole encounter gave me an odd feeling of déjà vu.’ I told my friend as we darted left and right with the school of other fish, swimming pointlessly through the murky green water. ‘Hey, Sylvester.’ my friend whispered to me, ‘You’re so slow!’ I gave him a sideways glance. ‘It’s true,’ he remarked. ‘Okay …. Okay …’ I chuckled, ‘You’re obnoxious!’ We were still chatting when we felt a strong current behind us, intense and imminent. The silhouette swam slowly but methodically, eyes wide open with hunger as it bared its murderous knife-edged teeth. I could tell from the beaming gaze of its eyes that the giant carp hadn’t eaten for days; it was starving, and we were its next target. I swam. I swam as fast as my fins would allow me. I couldn’t see far through the contaminated water, but I realized that I was miles away from the others. I can’t possibly survive this chase without my friends. It’s a life and death matter. Now here I was, paddling alone through unknown territories with a giant carp hot on my tail. What an idiot! I closed my eyes as I flapped my fins rapidly, speeding through the water as fast as I could. I soon was exhausted, having said that I wasn’t really an athletic fish. All I was good at was eating and sleeping. I slowed down, panting, when a sudden pain shot down my spine. I wailed in agony as black spots rapidly engulfed my vision---the carp had shredded a chunk out of my tail! I took the chance as soon as I caught sight of a cave, wriggling into a small opening as I crashed onto a large piece of stone, whimpering. ‘Who on earth is he?’ ‘I haven’t the slightest idea; just get him out of here!’ ‘The poor fish is injured!’ I heard voices before my eyelids fluttered open and whatever was left of my tail started to throb. Two ostentatious prawns were floating over me with questioning looks plastered on their faces, but they darted away frantically as I woke. ‘Where am I?’ I slowly asked. ‘You’re close to Dongguan, if you wanted to know the exact location. Which stream are you from? What’s your name?’ the male prawn said. Dongguan? I had no idea where it was but it couldn’t be that far away from my school of fish, could it? ‘My name is Sylvester. Could you tell me how to get back to Foshan? I have to go back before sunset, or all of my friends would have left,’ I explained. The prawn let out a forced chuckle, ‘Foshan is miles away, kid. And the sun has already set.’ He gestured towards the mouth of the cave, where no light was present. I let myself process the information. All my life I’d been told that if I lost my school I would be on my own, and I would be the perfect prey for lurking predators. In short, I would…. die. And there was nothing I could do about it anymore. ‘I shouldn’t have lost them, I shouldn’t...’ I muttered, forcing back the stinging tears threatening to form. I thanked the prawns and swam out of the cave in a daze. ‘Hey kid.’ I heard the prawn’s voice behind me. I slowly turned around. ‘Are you separated from your friends?’ he asked. I nodded. ‘Well… Life likes to play games, you know? Make you suffer and see how you deal with situations. You don’t expect Life to just sit there watching us, do you? He’d be bored out of his mind. Things are bound to happen, but that doesn’t mean you can’t change them,’ he said with a wink. I looked blankly at him, completely flummoxed. ‘Do you think you can make a difference if you re-live the moment you lost your friends?’ he continued.

“I

Fiction: Group 3

I nodded again. ‘Let me show you something,’ the prawn said, grinning at my confusion. I followed him to a secluded stone wall behind a forest of seaweed, and it took me a second to realize that it’s the wall of a massive water dam. I gasped as I saw the large curling whirlpool towering in front of me. ‘Listen! This whirlpool goes fast enough to warp time. What you have to do is leap into the whirlpool at the moment it turns anti-clockwise; which happens once a day. Once you dive into the water, you have to count to three. Then swim back out to the open water right that second and you’ll be in the past!’ What? I couldn’t catch up! How would a whirlpool take me back in time? That wasn’t the least bit possible. “When you get to the past, you have to return before the tide lowers, or you’ll vanish into thin air!” he said with a grave look on his face. ‘What happens if I stay in the whirlpool longer than the count of three?’ I asked, puzzled. ‘Then of course you go further back in the past!’ he said as though he expected me to know. ‘Now go! It’s turning anti-clockwise!’ ‘And why should I trust you?!’ Who in the right mind would entrust their life to a stranger? Let alone when the stranger is telling you to do something absolutely impossible? ‘Kid, you either trust me or you’ll end up in the stomach of a carp! YOUR choice!’ urged the prawn as he shrugged. My heart was pounding fast in my chest as I swam closer to the whirling mass of water, hesitating. ‘Sylvester, it’s your only chance. Your only chance.’ I closed my eyes to block out my thoughts, and off I went hurling into the whirlpool. ‘One….. Two…… Three!’ I said aloud, but I couldn’t swim out of the whirlpool. It was my tail! My damaged tail made it impossible for me to accelerate. With every second I used trying to get myself to swim properly, I was probably going further back into the past! I flicked my tail with all the strength I could muster, yelling for help even if I knew none would come. I finally shot out of the whirlpool, three seconds late, and way further back in the past than I intended to go. The whole world was spinning as I tried to steady myself. I breathed in. Wow. The water smelled so fresh - even fragrant. It’s weird to describe water as fragrant, but….wow. It smelled like what a river should smell, not of garbage and sewage, but of seaweed and freshness. As soon as the water stopped spinning, I could see miles away. The water was so clear, with sunlight almost penetrating to reach the sandy river bed. Fish were everywhere, giggling, talking, so jolly and gay. It was like a dream, like someone had locked me out of heaven all my life. I just floated there, wanting to breathe in every last particle of air, take in every single drop of sunlight. I wanted to stay in the past. Who cares if the tide lowers and I cease to exist? Bad things always happened to me; I was a failure. It was when I saw a crab helping a young fish off the ground when something clicked. Was I really that unimportant? Could my friend Corey still be alive if I had not told him not to be tempted by the large silver hook? He would have gone straight for it if I hadn’t warned him. Could Billy’s dreams have been possible if I hadn’t lent him my seaweed parchment for his exam? That’s when I realized. The world needed me, and I existed for a reason. I was never a failure. I still hadn’t found my companions! The prawn told me to get back before the tide lowered and the water level was decreasing rapidly. I had approximately five minutes. I rushed back to the dam, but not before I bumped into a baby fish. ‘Sorry!’ I yelled, and swam over to check on him. Wait a minute. Had I met him before? The baby fish… he looked so familiar. ‘Where are you from, uncle?’ he asked, his innocent green eyes baring into me. ‘I’m from the future. What’s your name?’ ‘My name is Sylvester. What’s yours?’ I was startled but I forced myself to rush back into the whirlpool, bracing myself for a mad chase between a giant carp and a bunch of tiny herring.

Fiction: Group 3

The Key to Our Hearts St. Mary's Canossian College, Lo, Rosalia - 13, Fiction: Group 3

resh air rushed into my nose and trachea with my nerves becoming relaxed. I woke up from endless imagination. Even though some annoying and vile bugs went into my view, my grandmother’s hometown, Nanhai District was stunningly beautiful and looked like a picture featuring a shimmering

river joining the Pearl River flowing through the Poon’s village. Only a stone bridge crossed over it. Next to the little traditional Chinese houses covered with red tiles on the rooftops, there were diligent people planting and harvesting in the fields. Here was totally different from where I got used to live. Residing in this quiet and peaceful village was not a bad decision. However, I always felt something unexpected brewing once I stepped in. I wandered around and enjoyed being alone for some time. My limbs were exhausted as we walked all the way from town through the viscous mud after yesterday’s heavy downpour. I sat on the bridge with my legs and feet swaying in the air above the pure running river water. I saw myself clearly. “She” was staring and smiling at me. I turned around but no one was there. I was scared. I stood up straight swiftly. Unfortunately, I tripped and fell into the water though I had tried to balance my body, fluttering my hands hard. I was all wet and what I discovered was a fathomless pit at the bottom of the bridge. I slowly walked towards it uncontrollably as it attracted me a lot and I was immersed in darkness and vanished. It was cold and silent here. I could only hear my breathing sounds and heartbeats. I spotted a weak stream of light seeping through a hole without noticing my key which was a gift from grandmother tingling. Taking a peep, I finally realized the circumstance I was in. It was the Poon’s village. I glanced around the surroundings. The bridge was half finished, the ground was dry and smooth and the buildings were much newer than I thought. To my surprise, I saw my grandmother who had long hair and should only appear in the old photos. “Where am I? The hole is connected to the… to the past?” I said to myself unbelievably. My watch showed a mysterious number ‘1963’. While I was startled, she came nearer and asked, “Don’t you feel cold? All your clothes are wet. Come to my house. I’ll give you some dry clothes for change.” I was much more comfortable with a new set of outfit. She was really a thoughtful and nice woman who took care of me even though I was a stranger to her. “Where do you live?” my grandmother asked in a worried tone. “I’ve no home…” I replied in a dull voice. She took my hands gently and invited me to move in. At first, I was quite looking forward to this new life. Then I regretted. Every day, we woke up at five thirty early in the morning after the cock crowed. My Grandmother was industrious. She went to the farmlands to plow till the sun sank without grumbling and I trudged along unwillingly. The work was extremely harsh but I enjoyed the days soaking my legs in the unpolluted river water. There was always someone sneaking outside our home not far away. I noticed that that person had kept an eye on my grandmother for some time. Would there be any chance that he was my grandfather? I could not remember well if he was really the right choice for my grandmother because my impression towards my grandfather was blurred. I decided to investigate his identity. As usual, grandmother and I left the house for work. He appeared out of nowhere just like a ghost spying on us. When grandmother took a toilet break, I secretly crept beside him. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” I demanded. His face flushed bright red like a tomato, and stammered, “I-I…um…come from the…uh…the neighboring Lo’s village…” Lo’s village?! He was my grandfather. I had to witness this memorable love story! While pondering about their relationship, grandfather rushed away since my grandmother was back.

F

Fiction: Group 3

Days passed. I figured out neither the matter between my grandparents, nor the way back to where I belonged. I could only continue to stay and work in the fields, still seeing my grandfather every day. I often put aside my job and chatted with him, which gave me a heart-warming feeling since I had never seen him except in the graveyard. Sometimes I saw him stopping at his usual site, dressed in the traditional Chinese kung-fu clothes. I had to admit I had never thought about grandfather being a master of martial arts. This day was no ordinary working day. grandmother and I went downtown. The urban area was much more advanced than our village but traces caused by the civil war could still be seen. “I hope our country will continue to thrive. It seems that Hong Kong is a much better place than China.” Grandmother sighed after seeing a group of beggars entreating for food. “Well, yes. If you move to Hong Kong, you can work in a factory. Nevertheless, there will be a lot of people like you rushing to Hong Kong, causing the British government to ban immigration about 20 years later. I think Hong Kong is a really nice place! There’s a mixture of different cultures and developed technology, so if you work in Hong Kong, I bet you’ll earn a lot! Hong Kong is a part of the Pearl River Delta, thus it is very convenient to return here!” I just could not stop when my birthplace was mentioned and I had to get grandmother to move or else everything would be different! But it seemed like I had spoken too much. “O-oh, I see. Hong Kong seems quite well. But how can you know a lot about Hong Kong?” Grandmother gave me a confused look. “U-um, I’ve lived in Hong Kong before. Those are only my predictions,” I answered with a pounding heart. Then we started our journey back to the village. “STOP! Hello, two young ladies. I see you clutching quite a lot of valuables here. You won’t mind giving us some, huh?” A group of gangsters stopped us on the way back to the village. “I see you two quite delicate. Let’s go and have some fun after this, shall we?” the head of the gangsters commanded gruffly. We tried to run, but it was all in vain. They were too strong. We could only surrender. We leaned on the wall helplessly with our heads drooping. As I was thinking this was the end of us, a powerful cry came from behind. It was grandfather! Two members fell down instantly after his side kick. His speedy actions reminded me of Yip Man, a famous Nanquan warrior who was portrayed in various movies. His athletic movements with very stable, low stances and unique hand techniques impressed all of us. All of the gangsters fled as fast as they could. He was our hero. “Are you two fine?” grandfather asked worriedly. We nodded. My grandmother was stunned by his bravery and said, “Thanks a lot. Are you also returning to the village? Let’s go home together and I’ll cook you dinner to show my gratitude. And, sir, what’s your name?” He replied, “Lo-Kwok-Shing. Nice to meet you.” “Poon-Chi-Mei. Nice to meet you too!” As they grinned at each other, I knew they were going to fall into a river called love. Going back, the whole bridge was already there, and it was eventually the time for me to leave. “Hey!”I put down my chopsticks while having dinner. “I’ve to go back to my homeland. Don’t miss me. I love you two and thank you for your care,” I said. “I’ve made you a linen bag. It’s not expensive, but it represents my thankfulness. It’s under my bed. See you! ”Then I ran into the river, and found the portal… The clock hanging on the wall of grandmother’s Chinese house struck ten. I had just gone for a few minutes. Grandmother was telling us how she met grandfather. “…We were almost robbed, but Kwok-Shing saved me. I cooked dinner for him with a friend of mine, but she left us soon. She gave me a bag and left a key which I had kept till now. We moved to Hong Kong and named Ling after her….” I ran into the room and grabbed the things that I had left in the past. Suddenly, I realized the key from Granny matched the hole where all the things began.

Fiction: Group 3

Chinese Dreams

St. Paul's Co-educational College, Cheng, Chi Him Geoffrey - 13, Fiction: Group 3

he sun was glaring down on the eroded steps of the Guangzhou Train Terminal when Wen Xi, grasping her worn out suitcase, stepped into the metropolis of work, smoke and people, to fulfill her Chinese dream.

The incidents of the previous week were still constantly being replayed in her mind. Her father, the breadwinner of the family, died from an accident in the mines; the family, with four daughters to take care of, had no choice but to send Wen away for work. A myriad of incidents and twists brought her to the southern industrial city Guangdong. Wen took out a crumpled piece of newspaper with an address of her employment agency, and journeyed in cramped buses and noisy train cabins. Wen alighted at the front door of her ‘employment agency’ - the door was sealed with tape and metal chains, and covered in advertisements and graffiti. No one had been here for years. She spotted a piece of paper from the Chinese Security Council under a poster. On it was written : China Employment Agency...suspected plot: over $100,000 collected from villagers as deposit… She matched the name of the agency to the one on her newspaper over and over. There was no doubt - Wen had just sent away two-thirds of her mother’s life savings to a ploy - that money was everything she had. She wanted to call her mother, both to apologize to her and seek her mother’s comfort, but she dared not waste the precious 10 RMB she had on her card; her mother was far far away in the north. She was alone. The day was coming to an end, and Wen had nothing but 15 RMB in her pocket. She walked from house to hotel, apartments to charity centres, searching for a roof to sleep under. None of them responded to her meagre request for a shelter in the night. Some families shouted at her like she was mad; some of them simply shut the door. The sense of hopelessness grew after each refusal, the feeling of despair weighed heavier after each apathetic glance. It was almost eleven at night. Most people had already slept, and Wen was about to give up, her dreams crumbling, drifting away in the wind. “I guess I should be prepared to sleep out tonight,” Wen mumbled to herself. Wearily she stepped up to a red brick house at the end of the block, and with courage she knocked on the door. A young woman of her age answered. “Uh… Hi, hi, I’m Wen Xi and I was just hoping if you could accommodate me for the night----” In an instant the woman pulled Wen into the house. She fed her and gave her a simple bedroom and she slept there for the night. Wen woke up early before the sun had risen. There was work to do. She went to thank the generous woman, at least know her name. However, Wen could not find her at all. She had left in the night. On the rough wooden table were a hundred dollars and a career magazine. Scribbled on the newspaper was a simple message: Live your dream. Wen took up the cash and grinned. Today she would get back on her feet. Perusing the career magazine, Wen visited every factory in the vicinity throughout the morning, pausing briefly for meals, then rushing off with the magazine under her arm searching for a job. By evening she had

T

Fiction: Group 3

made a deal to work in a plastics factory. The salary was meagre (just enough for her meals), working hours were long and work was mundane, but Wen didn’t mind the exploitation - she was just happy to get a job. She returned to the house late at night with a satisfying contract and a full stomach. Wen worked hard. Every day she would wake up before dawn and cycle to the far edges of the city, passing through packed highways and twisted little paths among the giant factories that reached to the sky. Hundreds of workers would cramp inside the 100 sq. ft. quarters, waiting for the day’s torture to come. A dirty, ragged uniform would be loaned to her, and then for 10 hours in the hot and stuffy room at the factory (most days the boss was too selfish to switch on the air conditioner), she would sit on a squeaky stool, gluing lifeless Barbie heads on its body. Every day repeat, repeat and repeat, until her hands turned sore with the needlework and her neck tired from staring at countless heads on the line. She left work with excruciating pain and lethargy, but with a sense of contentment. Every day her dream came closer. For half a year had she stayed at the woman’s home, under her care and blessing. She would return to the house with the woman fast asleep, her bed clean and made. The woman left early in the mornings, leaving food and money on the table. Wen couldn’t understand why this unfamiliar woman was willing to help her. Even though they were living under the same roof, the mysterious woman felt far and away from her. Wen could not hold her curiosity anymore. She decided to follow the woman. She stayed up the whole night, waiting for the woman to wake up. At 2:00 in the morning (Wen was doubtful even if that was morning), the woman sprung up from her bed and out of the house. Slowly Wen crept after her in the shadows. The woman went on her bicycle, and rode straight on north. Wen followed her, trying to keep the creaking of the long-ungreased wheels as silent as possible. The woman left the dirty neighbourhood and rode into a small opening in the tall bamboo shoots around the isolated community, taking complicated turns to smaller and smaller paths, until the path was so narrow she had to get off the bicycle and push it along the bumpy and twisted road. Wen followed her tracks from afar. And among the weed- saddened grassland was a worn down textile factory. Whiffs of white smoke faded into the morning skies, escaping the rusty, cranky chimneys. The steel outer wall was stripped from its coating, exposing the brown tinge of rust inside. The windows were reduced to a milky white layer of thin scarred glass. Although the paths were narrow, the factory was packed with people - people ran and walked up and down the stairs, their voices loud, and each person trying to shout over the last. Wen didn’t expect her benefactor to be a humble factory worker like herself. She walked up to her. “What are you doing in this slum?” The woman jerked back in surprise. “What are you doing here following me?” She tried to sound indignant, but nonetheless there was a feeling of embarrassment in her speech. “Why are you helping me?” The question blurted from Wen. The woman’s posture relaxed. She wiped away her stern glare. “Two years ago, I left everything I loved and travelled 1500 miles from Mongolia to this city to live the Chinese dream. I arrived with no family, no friends, no one to care for myself. A pickpocket stole the only valuables I brought with me. For twenty days I roamed the streets, homeless, hopeless, desperate. That had been the hardest time of my life. I walked far away from the city, wanting to give upon myself. That’s when I found this clothing factory, and that’s where I’ve worked day and night, less for the meagre salary but more for the fulfilment of my far-fetched dream. When you knocked on the door that night, your face dirty but determined, I saw myself in you. I understood the despair. I saw your miserable life: roads of wooden stairs laden with tacks and splinters and torn-up boards; journeys of no certainty of plan, just pure determination; hands of bruises and splinters and

Fiction: Group 3

cuts. But most importantly, I saw the dim flicker of hope in your eyes, about to be reduced to ashes and smoke; I...I couldn’t watch a mirror image of myself walk the paths of pain that I did. Everyone should have the right to live their dream.” The woman eyes had no more anger or annoyance. They were overflown with tears of hope and happiness, tears that washed away the pain and sorrow. Tears gushed from Wen’s eyes - tears that washed away the loneliness and sorrow, tears that broke the wall of unfamiliarity between the two women, tears that filled their dry wells of hope and courage - they came from faraway places, but they had the same dream, the same heart. So it was, two grown women crying and hugging and laughing in the midst of the chaos and disarray. They would not surrender to the harsh reality, nor to pitiless society, nor to the unrelenting work of the day. They would go on, to live the Chinese dream.

Fiction: Group 3

Pearl River: Asylum The British International School Shanghai, Puxi Campus, Chen, Jade - 13,

Fiction: Group 3

Macau, March 1968

ight crept in soundlessly, engulfing all that stood in its way.

The Pearl River Asylum stared down upon me, a giant awakening at the dead of the night.

But everything was so sombre and quiet, as if I was blind and deaf, a vulnerable feeling I

would never forget.

“Miss Heong, the front door is this way.” A dark figure appeared in front of my face, silent and soulless.

“Yes, thank you.” I answered, trying to cover my agitation.

The nurse lead me through a maze of rooms. The Asylum was full of antique, mahogany furniture, old and

obsolete.

‘It’s okay, only a few days.’ But that’s what I’d thought.

The hallways, the floors, all groaning with each step I took to my room. Room 414, a demonic number in

Macau.

I woke up on a cloudless morning the next day feeling forlorn, and I knew the torture, and the grief, were

still to come. Below my window, lay the Pearl River Delta, but people here call it the River of Sin because

of the deaths it was responsible for in the early 1800s. 414 of them. People in this tragedy were all mentally

ill. They jumped into the river as if it was a safe haven, for the insane.

So that’s why they built this Asylum beside the river.

***

I had spent time in this asylum, and it felt like eternity.

Here, it’s a simple schedule; eat, sleep, therapy, eat again and sleep.

Strolling down this hallway was something I’d learnt to abhor on my first day here; thin strips of paint,

peeling its way off like rows of ants determined to make its way down, and lights flickering, dying, making

the ceiling a deep, black hole. It smells dead here, lifeless, a scent that brings unlimited chill down your

spine.

Places where patients were forbidden to go were the mortuary and the library. I think both places hold

secrets of the unknown.

N

Fiction: Group 3

This, a place of sorrow, of broken hearts and minds, especially at night. Ear-piercing screams of pain and

nightmares echo down the hallway. I always had multiple nightmares throughout the night, but that was

archaic here, we were never short on nightmares.

***

Macau, January 1969

This, was my first New Year alone, alone with only these books for company in the Asylum’s library.

Because everyone was in the lounge watching a movie, so I got a chance to sneak in.

I’ve been here for almost a year now and they’ve given me a number. So now, I am formally Patient 3209.

Other than that, I think I’ve adapted well, though occasional abuse and neglect does make me have suicidal

thoughts but I guess I’m quite used to that.

The silence in the library was chilling and the lights were fading, fading until the library became a black box.

That night, was quite boisterous as usual, but there was a typically sinister atmosphere that I’d never felt

before. Suddenly, lights flickered back on and the doors swung open. In popped a doctor’s head. He had

unruly, jet-black hair, an unlined, chiselled face, and brownish brows with bloodshot eyes piercing through

my soul.

“年好.”

He smiled cheerfully but it looked more liked an animal baring teeth.

“Happy New Year to you too, I don’t remember seeing a doctor like you around here.” I answered, trying

to sound amicable.

“Really? I guess because I rarely come out of my office, but I’ve been here for a long time. I am Dr. Keng

Nan but Keng is fine.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Dr. Keng, I am patient 3209. But Heong would be nice.”

I added at the end. It has been forever since someone called my name. We were all just numbers here.

“Heong then, and can you tell me why you’re here?”

And that was how the most interesting conversation I’ve had in a while begun.

***

“But Heong, didn’t you ever wonder about the Pearl River curse?”

“No, why? Its like, none of my business anyway.”

Fiction: Group 3

“I don’t believe in curses, everything is all man-made after all.” There was a darkness that dominated his

eyes for a moment when he said that.

“What do you mean? Do you know anything about the Pearl River 414 case?”

“Yes, I do actually.”

“Please tell, I would be more than pleased for a story on New Year.”

So he began.

“There once was a psychiatrist who wanted to cure the deranged all his life. After hundreds of endless,

tedious experiments, he thought he’d found the cure, so he tested it on the patients available. But, after 3

months of trial, the patients started to hallucinate. They thought that the river is where they belong, a haven

for their kind. So they suicided in the river. He wanted to prevent tragedy but it was too late, 414 patients

had already drowned in the Pearl River. For a long time, the river stank of corpses, of decay, and death.”

I felt shocked, then terror, then disgust.

“What happened afterwards?” I asked, sounding intrigued.

“The doctor felt very compunctious, so he walked to the bottom of the Pearl River on a calm and peaceful

night.” Keng seemed so tired and weary, as if he didn’t rest in years.

“Are you okay? I should get a cup of water for you.”

“That would be wonderful, thanks.”

But when I came back, he’d left. I thought I’d offended him somehow so I drained the cup and went back

to my reading.

“What’s this?” I mumbled as I pulled out a dusted, vintage book.

‘Macau’s History of Pearl River Delta-1800s’

There was a bookmark inside so I flipped onto that page. An old, sepia newspaper clipping from 1813 about

a young doctor who drowned himself in the Pearl River greeted my eyes. Though the face of the man I saw

was a bit bloated, there was no mistake in the same unruly, jet-black hair, same unlined, chiselled face, and

brownish brows with bloodshot eyes piercing through my soul.

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Fiction: Group 3

I felt the gentle, pitter-pattering rain on my skin, delicate like a mother’s kiss. The surface of the Pearl

River was tranquil, and the 414 souls of the deceased in 1813 gazed up at the moonlit sky.

The Pearl River Asylum stared down upon me, a giant awakening at the dead of the night.

Adrift in the Fragrant Harbour

The British International School Shanghai, Puxi Campus, Gawthorpe, George -13, Fiction: Group 3

Nothing. That was all he could remember. Nothing. He stared out at the huge, majestic, almost teeth-like buildings, punching through the clouds. Everything seemed so familiar, yet so distant. The clouds started to turn pink as the sun set. He saw them, but really all he was doing was searching. Searching. And searching. He searched the clouded depths of his brain for something. Anything. But there was only... Nothing. Now the darkness set in; the last glimpses of the orange sun faded away beneath the horizon. The wind howled, in a high-pitched scream, and then it stopped. Where the icy buildings had once been, there was nothing. For one moment the whole city seemed to hold its breath – nothing moved – as if it were a predator stalking its prey, ready to jump, every muscle coiled ready to spring. Waiting. Anticipating. And then leaping. One by one, each building along the landscape lit up - one, after another, after another. They chased each other in a colourful race. One building would light up, and then two more. They would catch up with each other and then spread outwards in different directions. They painted the skyline in a colourful blanket of neon light. However, the same questions kept going round in his head. “Who am I?” “Where am I?” “Why am I here?” He wracked his brain looking for something – anything – he could remember. Then it came all at once. Like an electric shock, it ran down his spine and along his arms, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Finally, it stopped. He gasped. He remembered one name. He reached for it, trying to pick the fragile antique out of the cloudy depths of his mind. But he was clumsy at this kind of thing, and the name slipped away into the abyss. It was gone. The next morning, he was tired. Cold. And hungry. He had spent the night sleeping on a bench and had his coat draped over himself. The sun had only just come up, so he knew it was pretty early too. Today the birds twittered merrily, singing to each other as they went about their business. The pine trees stood tall, like guards on duty. They creaked as their leaves and branches slowly swung, being pushed by the gentle breeze. The air felt crisp on his skin and litter was swiftly sliding over the path. He got up from the bench. Everything felt so quiet and peaceful. It had been hard to see last night – because of the dark – but now he could see that he had stumbled into some sort of park. He followed the nearest path to the edge of the park. The streets were already starting to fill up with people. Now he could see where he was, much more easily. He was on the corner of a junction; the buildings around him were, obviously, not modern. They had black-tiled roofs with stone chimneys coming out the top. The bodies of the houses were white (probably made from wood) and had tinted windows in them. The doors were all black with a lion embellished into the knocker. In short, the houses were old-fashioned. He had no idea where he was.

Fiction: Group 3

He crossed the street to the nearest place that sold food. He used spare change in his pocket from...well, he didn’t know what...and paid for the most recognizable thing there. As he sat down to eat his sandwich in the dimly-lit café, he tried to answer the three questions. “Who am I?” He could recognise his face in his wallet picture, but that’s as far as he got. And who was that girl with the bright smile and the curly, dark hair? “Where am I?” Since everyone looked Chinese, he thought somewhere in China, but he couldn’t work out where. “Why am I here?” Maybe he lived here? Maybe he lived at the address in his wallet? He just couldn’t work it out. He gathered his thoughts and sat up, ready to face whatever was thrown at him next. His sandwich was gone. All that remained were a few crumbs on the table. He must have been hungry. He stood up, the windows glinted in the sunlight, and he walked out the door.

Fiction: Group 3

After trying to hail five cabs in a row, he was overjoyed when the sixth reluctantly stopped. He showed the driver the address in his wallet and he nodded. Maybe that was where he lived. “How long you live Hong Kong?” The driver asked. Finally! An answer! Yes! “Five years,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. Maybe it was true. “Long time,” the man said, but it was obvious he didn’t mean it. He saw a broken-down building which looked very out of place. “What happened here?” The taxi driver only said one word in response. One word. That word sent shivers down his back, across his arms and made him tense all over. “Mafia.” The taxi screeched to a halt, and so did his daydreams. From the moment he saw the house, he recognised it. It was a bungalow with a slate roof; it had red brick walls and clear windows. A pathway led from the tarmac up the door, and it had a very strangely-embellished knocker. The walk to the door seemed to take ages. When he finally got there, he realised he was shaking all over. His hand reached for the door. Everything was quiet, except for his breathing. It came out in short, raspy breaths. His hand was on the handle. The metal was cold. Very. Cold. He turned it. Slowly. The door creaked open. Then everything happened at once. The bullets came from everywhere. Short, staccato stabs. Before he knew what he was doing, he had picked up the gun and reloaded it. It was as if his mind knew what to do. Or maybe he had done it before? He dived behind the cupboards, returning shots whenever he could. Four down. One to go. And then it hit him. Not a bullet. The past... Now he was walking, his back turned to the house. Now he was going to find out. The blue sky glittered overhead and the tall trees on either side of the road bristled in the crisp wind. He was going to save her. The girl with the bright smile and the curly, dark hair. Rachel. And he remembered his name. Finally. His name was John. Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed the person following closely behind him. Then... Everything went wrong.

Fiction: Group 3

Lost Vividness of the River The British International School Shanghai, Puxi Campus, Hanninen, Lydia - 12, Fiction: Group 3

y gaze was fixed on the flying creatures known as birds taking flight in the horizon. The flock flew in a mass of black spots across the orange and yellow canvas, past the white puffs of stained white and the shining red ball of fire that was unreachable to young girls like me. Even if my

parents were always complaining about me being too persistent in everything I put my mind to, I knew the difference between reality and fantasies; the difference between fact and fiction was evident in my mind. My parents were beautiful people. They cared for others like no other, they said their thanks and apologies until it got annoying, they could easily let go if there was the need to. As for me, I would be cautious about other people but not to the same level as my father and mother and I would simply mumble my thanks and apologies before getting hit in the back of the head by either of them for not showing my appreciation for everything that I had. However –the worst of my flaws- I couldn’t let go. I clung onto everything and everyone and I couldn’t bear leaving them. I hated myself for it. They didn’t like me caring too much in that sense, saying that it wouldn’t lead me anywhere good. I was snapped out of my thoughts as I heard happy clicks. Confused by where the sound had been coming, I spun my head in every direction. After a moment of confusion, I had found the source of the entrancing sound: the dolphins. I had only seen them twice out of all the times that I had sat out here, which just so you know was each and every evening. They were bewitching animals. They were leaping out of the water for air, creating a majestic scene for everyone watching. Two groups were out there. Though, my happy ecstasy was cut short. I shot up to stand once I spotted the grey calf from the nearer group struggling in the water. It was thrusting itself this way and that and spun in different directions recklessly. The other two dolphins had disappeared. My mind wasn’t working with my body and before I knew it, my feet splashed into the water of the Pearl River. It was shallow since there had only been a slight drop from the edge of the land to the water. The stray calf was drifting my way. I continued to wade my way toward it. It continued to make loud clicking noises, trying to make contact with its elders but it seemed to have no luck. Its eyes looked lost, dead. I reached toward it but my hand had stopped moving just before it came in contact with the smooth surface that belonged to the dolphin’s body. What was I doing? What would happen after I do this? It would cause so much trouble for myself! Think straight, I told myself. I decided to ignore practicality and went with my gut and conscience. I needed to save this animal. This time, I reached my hand out and latched onto the plastic wrapped around the poor dolphin. It seemed startled at first but that didn’t stop me. I continued to pull on it, coming to the realization that it wasn’t going to loosen. I suddenly remembered the Swiss knife I had, I flipped out the knife and began to cut away the tangled plastic. It felt like it had taken me months, years, decades even, to free the suffering animal. I thought that the creature would leave me right away, swim off to find its group. Yet, it stayed by my side; it just laid there. I knew that it had been risky but thanks to my persistent nature, I reached out my slender fingers. It had felt like someone behind me had been watching with hawk eyes, ready to call out my mistake for coming into contact with a wild animal. My fingertips ever so slightly brushed over the surface of the dolphin. My hand retracted immediately once I made eye contact with the dolphin. Still, my curiosity kept on trying to become greater than logic. It eventually did. I reached out again and this time –once I had placed my fingertips on its head – I put down my whole palm and began to move my hand across its long side. I continued to do this until the (male) dolphin had completely calmed down and was floating on the water with its head by my waist. However, my hand was stopped midway and I was forced to turn my head toward the house. “Ming Yun! Get inside for dinner! Why are you in the water? Get out of there right this instant!” My mother shouted at me. I hid the dolphin behind my rather small body but still managed to keep him out of sight. I turned back to the dolphin once she was out of eye- and earshot. “I have to go now but I will come back… Huang Fu. You were fortunate to have me here to rescue you. Now go.” I waved my hand to the dolphin and off he went. Huang Fu swam toward his group that had appeared out of nowhere again. I then came back to reality and picked myself up, running towards the backdoors of my household.

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Fiction: Group 3

Without exception, Huang Fu would return. I would jump in the water to join him and we would play together. I also began to steal milk from home to feed him. After school, I would take the subway back home and since my parents only returned an hour after I did, I would grab a small carton of milk and pour it in a thermos to give to Huang Fu in the evening. My parents eventually noticed that the milk was mysteriously disappearing but I gave no comment to this statement. One day Huang Fu didn’t return. He didn’t swim up to me, giddily sloshing in the water, waiting for his milk and play. I couldn’t see him jumping with the other dolphins in the horizon during the alluring sunset. This wasn’t just a one time coincidence. It kept on going like this for days on end. I began to grow immensely worried. Finally, the day that I got to go out onto the river came. I had gotten a job from my uncle (he worked in the boats that cleared floating trash from the water). I was excited because I could actually go out and see everything from the river and out, not looking in. Although the strikingly thick pollution clouds hung above our heads angrily, it was a sunny day nonetheless. The sun shone brightly against the surface of the murky water. I leaned lazily along the side of the skimmer boat as we moved further toward the middle of the river. Then I saw something that struck me in the heart. A grey shape floating just below the surface. I screamed out to my uncle to steer that way, gathering strength as to get myself ready to fight the sadness that would sweep over me, not knowing that there was no way to prepare myself for an event like this one. As we got closer, I got a clearer vision of what was under, and I didn’t like what I saw. My lips pressed into a tight line, my eyes grew wide as softballs, my breath hitched. The skimmer boat slowly came to a halt, my uncle joining me by the side of the boat. His reaction wasn’t pretty. He screeched for the other men onboard to haul the creature in. Doing as told, they brought it in. Grey little animal with fins and a tail, kind eyes that had lost their vividness and sense of life. “Huang Fu!” I thrust my body toward the animal, slinging my arms around my dear friend. I felt stupid to react this way but I had taken care of the youngling like a younger brother, a child. Seeing that Huang Fu had slipped away from here without saying his goodbyes to everything broke my heart. He had left at such a young age, he hadn’t lived. Salty, hot droplets ran down my pale face. My arms and legs shook. My breathing became ragged. He was gone and I couldn’t do anything about it. “He passed away due to contaminated milk that his mother had been feeding him. The milk was contaminated because of the pollution in the water. I’m sorry Ming Yun.” I made it my life mission to make sure that the species wouldn’t disappear from the Pearl River. I made it my duty to raise awareness on their behalf. My parents disapproved my habit, saying that it wouldn’t lead me anywhere good. Who knew that they could’ve been so wrong?

Fiction: Group 3

Like Pearls Lost in the River The British International School Shanghai, Puxi Campus, Ngai, Angelica - 13,

Fiction: Group 3

t the border between Hong Kong and Shenzhen, a massive crowd stood in the immigration hall, waiting to enter the mainland. The hall was buzzing with noise and idle chatter.

On the left, two young girls stood in line. The first girl was dressed in plain and loose clothes. She looked about eighteen, with a tall, slim frame. Yet the clothes she wore were worn and battered, the colour faded, looking as if they have been crumpled and washed for far too many times. Her fair fell past her shoulders like a silky dark waterfall, her face pale and pointed, with sharp, black eyes that seemed to notice everything. The second girl looked like the first, but much younger. She looked about ten, and she was clinging to the first girl’s arm.

They were the Cheung sisters- Ling and Ching. Ching had been diagnosed with autism since she was born. Their parents loved both girls with all their heart- but soon it became evident that the treatment Ching received required a lot of money. Because of that, the sisters’ parents have been forced to sell their house in Hong Kong and work in Shenzhen. The sisters were arranged to live with their aunt. Today, they were going over to Shenzhen to see their parents for the first time in months.

Now, as the two girls stood hand in hand, waiting to proceed to immigration, Ching suddenly began to make loud gurgling noises and started cocking her head from side to side. People began to stare at them. Ling flushed scarlet and tried to act indifferent, until the pointing and whispering finally became too much for her. Her face burning, she crouched down next to her sister and gripped the little girl firmly by her shoulders.

“Listen,” Ling whispered furiously, “If you don’t shut up now, we’ll never see Mama and Papa again, do you understand?” The words “Mama and Papa” seemed to have a magical effect on the child. She quieted abruptly and looked into her sister’s fierce black eyes.

“Ma, Pa, cans.” She said softly. As an autism patient, Ching’s favourite exercise was to stack tin cans together.

“Yes, that’s right. Ma and Pa will give you cans to build.” “Okay.” Ching then resumed staring blankly ahead and not doing anything- except this time she started

drooling. Ling sighed, exasperated, as she mopped her sister up with a towel. She loved her sister- she still does-

but ever since their parents moved away, she had become rather cold and harsh towards her. Ling felt that it was all Ching’s fault that they were where they are now- that without her, she would still have her parents, and she wouldn’t have to wear her mother’s old clothes because she can’t afford new ones. She sometimes even wishes that her sister would disappear.

Coming back to reality, Ling had finished mopping up Ching. They then crossed the border. Ling breathed a sigh of relief. Looking at the small, sickly child, her heart softened momentarily. Ching was born this way- she couldn’t help it.

Ling led her sister into the toilet. “Stay right here.” She told her sister firmly as she went into the cubicle. When she came out, Ling

expected to see Ching where she had left her. She wasn’t. Ling quickly ran outside, hoping to see the small, pale figure amongst the sea of people- but she wasn’t

there either. Panic engulfed her. “Ching! Ching! Come out!” Ling screamed. Once again, people were starting to look

at her funny, but for once she didn’t care. After a few unsuccessful attempts, she immediately told a police officer nearby about her missing sister. They asked her questions about Ching and jotted down notes. The officers contacted their parents immediately and told Ling that they were on their way. She nodded, shaking all over, and told the police she needed some fresh air. They let her out.

Ling came out from the building, remorse flooding through her like a dark river. Oh, how could she be so careless and cruel? How could she even think of Ching disappearing, much less wish for it? She had heard that there are many child traffickers in Shenzhen… what if Ching had already been kidnapped? It would be all her fault! She resisted the urge to burst into tears and collapse. She took a few deep breaths and pulled

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Fiction: Group 3

herself together. She told herself fiercely, You caused this, so you must find her! Ling stared at the colourless afternoon sky. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.

Off Ling went, showing the passer-bys a picture of Ching on her phone and asking them if they’ve seen her. They all shook their heads no. After what seemed like ages, she flopped down on a staircase, exhausted after her unfortunate adventures. Ling sighed deeply. Was she ever going to find Ching?

Ling was lost in thought, when she felt a gentle tug on her sleeve. For a moment she was sure it was Ching, who had somehow found her way back to her, and for a moment she was wild with ecstasy- but when she turned around with bated breath, there was no Ching; it was someone else. The disappointment was crushing- Ling nearly stomped away right there, until she realized it was a child. She was around seven or eight, her face smudged with dirt, her clothes tattered and coal-black. Her hair looked like a bird’s nest, tangled and oily. She was so skinny it seemed like she had no flesh at all on her arms- then Ling realized with dawning horror she had no arm at all. One of the child’s sleeves were empty, while the other looked like a brown stick. The only thing that didn’t seem lifeless was her eyes, large and dark and pleading. Ling felt her heart melt at the sight of this poor, pathetic creature. She then realized the child had been saying something to her. Ling immediately crouched down, the way she did with Ching, and asked: “What’s wrong?”

The girl looked at her with frightened eyes. “Please,” her voice barely more than a whisper, “Please take me away! Please!” Her thin body trembled pityingly.

Ling stared at her. “Sorry?” The child looked around, but before she could answer, she was rudely interrupted by a harsh voice. “Hey! What you doing with my girl?” A thickset man had come into view- a man with cruel eyes and a

thin, unpleasant mouth. His eyes burned into Ling’s as he stood there, arms crossed. Ling fired back, “Well, your little girl was just telling me to take her away- from presumably you.” The man laughed mirthlessly. “Excuse me? I’m her father! Now I need to take her back home, for she’s

been very naughty.” With that, he gripped the little girl’s arm like a vice and dragged her away. The child seemed to struggle in his meaty grasp, but couldn’t get out of it. With one last helpless glance at Ling, she and her “father” melted into the crowd.

Ling stood there, trying to process what had happened. She wished that she’d taken a picture of the child- then she could’ve helped her find her parents. She was sure that the man wasn’t the child’s father, and that he has been mistreating her very badly. The first thing she felt was anger towards the man- then the anger turned into sheer terror. What if Ching was now kidnapped by a man as cruel as that? What if she was being mistreated right this second? Ling thought of Ching, bounded and gagged, her eyes wide with fear, screaming and sobbing her heart out. The impact of the image nearly shattered her; she staggered back, feeling tears sting her eyes, but before she could pull herself together, her phone rang. Ling fumbled for it and answered.

“Is this Ms. Cheung?” A man’s voice said. “Yes, this is Ling.” “This is the police. Your sister has been found wandering around a supermarket. She was looking at tin-

cans…” The officer kept talking, but Ling could no longer hear him. She stood there, frozen with shock- and then her heart burst with wild ecstasy.

“YES!” Ling shrieked, causing the man in front of her to bang into a lamp post. “I’m coming now!” Then she hung up and sprinted the way she came, knowing that she’ll never forget this day, nor will she

ever complain about anything again.

* * *

Epilogue After the Cheungs have been reunited, Ling spent the rest of her holiday in Shenzhen taking photos of

child beggars and putting them onto her new website, which was named:

FIND YOUR CHILD TODAY After years of hard work, Ling has finally been able to reunite a number of child beggars with their

families. The memory of the little beggar-girl still haunts Ling to this day and she’s determined to find her. For she is just another pearl lost in the River, she thought grimly, Just another pearl.

Fiction: Group 3

Directed To The Pearl River Delta The British International School Shanghai, Puxi Campus, Roberts, Thomas - 11, Fiction: Group 3

Chapter 1 - A Surprise Delivery

t was 4pm, the twelfth of December 2014 and the last day of term. Hercules had endured a long day at secondary school and was tired, having stayed up most of the night marking sixty pieces of homework which he had returned to his students earlier that day. At age 46 he wondered how much longer he

could keep up with this pace. He stumbled over his doorstep, flung his coat, keys and bicycle helmet onto the stairs and slumped onto the sofa. He absently flicked through the television channels as he contemplated the holiday ahead. He caught a glimpse of a face passing by the window. A strangely familiar face. He continued to look out of the window, wondering where had he seen that face before? Was it a neighbour? Or was it just an anonymous passer-by? He was not sure. Hercules might have continued to ponder this but his thoughts were interrupted by a noise. Over the sound of the BBC newsreader on the television, Hercules distinctly heard a second and then third knock on his front door. This was followed by the clatter of his letterbox, and a slight thud on the doormat. He listened carefully. Everything was quiet, except for the television. Hercules heaved himself up from the sofa and moved towards the door. When, with what seemed like a great deal of effort, he finally reached the doormat, he carefully picked up an intriguing, square, white, envelope. He turned it over and saw his name and address typed clearly on the front: Hercules Jones 221b Farringdon Road London EC1R It had been typed with an old fashioned typewriter. He could feel the indentations of each letter with his thumb. As he peered more closely at the envelope, he realized there was no stamp. He concluded that it had been delivered by hand. Did the hand belong to the mysterious face he had glimpsed? He slowly tore open the envelope and looked curiously inside ....... Chapter 2 - Unexpected Journey Hercules slowly withdrew a small item from inside the envelope. When he brought it closer to the light he saw a labelled, silver key. He turned it over in his hand - it felt cool to his touch. Attached to the key was a small, crisp, paper tag that read simply: 0375 Kings Cross He scrutinized the tag and wondered "What was 0375?". His mind was racing. He murmured out loud "the key has been left for a reason .... a key needs a lock .... what can it unlock? .... unlock" that gave Hercules an idea "A locker at Kings Cross Station, perhaps?" He had seen rows of lockers there. He would go to the station immediately. Curiosity replaced fatigue. He picked up his coat and went outside. A black cab came into sight almost immediately and Hercules flagged it down. "Kings Cross Station" he said hurriedly. "Yes, sir!" replied the driver. As they pulled away from his home, Hercules wondered if he was crazy rushing off like this. At his destination, he jumped out of the taxi leaving a £10 note for the driver, muttering "keep the change". He dashed inside the main concourse looking all around him. As he slowed to walking pace, he caught sight of an information desk, behind which was a neat row of lockers similar to those at the school where he worked, but there was no locker number 0375. "Any other lockers here?" he asked the smiling

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lady at the desk. He showed her the tag and she directed him to another set. To his surprise the key opened a door and inside was an identical envelope to the last one. This time, he didn't hesitate. He lunged for the envelope and ripped it open. It contained a first class Heathrow express ticket and a Virgin Atlantic ticket for a flight to Hong Kong. Tonight. "That's odd!" he exclaimed, feeling excited. Hercules quickly checked his watch. The flight left in three hours. He turned, hopped into a taxi, stopped at his home, grabbed his passport and threw a few things into a bag. He leapt onto the Heathrow express train, at the airport he rushed through the priority lanes and just made it onto the plane. Chapter 3 - In The Air He settled into seat 1A, as the friendly flight attendant smiled and asked "Champagne or orange juice, sir?". He took a glass of champagne, downing it in one gulp as he wondered what was he doing here?. As he relaxed, the plane made its way across the airport and took off with a roar. He was committed to solving this mystery. Especially now, as the same attendant discreetly slipped him an envelope, the same kind as before. He decided that this envelope would not trouble him for a while. He slid it into his bag and enjoyed the rest of the extremely comfortable flight - he watched a film and slept like a log. When an attendant woke him up with breakfast, he stretched out his legs and only then reached for the envelope. As he gulped down some of his coffee, he tore the envelope open. Onto his lap fell a ticket - to 'James Galloper' film premier at the Pearl Riverside Theatre that night. He was familiar with the children's book of the same name - it had won prestigious awards, months of media attention, and students in his class didn't stop talking about it. The author of the book wrote under the pen name Simon Jarvis, and everyone had been trying to find out the true identity for months - but with no success. The Pearl River Delta had been a key setting in 'James Galloper', which was probably why 'Simon Jarvis' had chosen to hold the premier there, but why on Earth was he invited? The Captain's voice rang through the cabin announcing that the plane would be landing shortly. His finished breakfast was cleared away, and the plane began to descend. Chapter 4 - Arrival at the Pearl River Delta Once Hercules had cleared immigration, he strode into arrivals and to his surprise, he saw a tall, thin man holding a sign that read: Hercules Jones He made his way over to the man, who whisked him away and into a comfortable limousine waiting just outside. His whole journey had been planned perfectly. As the limousine made its way towards the city, he took out his iPad and did some research on 'James Galloper'. The book had just won children's book of the year, as voted for by W H Smith customers and Booker magazine and also won the Roald Dahl funny prize! As he pulled up in front of his hotel, the driver handed him a room key and said "Please go directly to room 221, change and come back down in thirty minutes. I will be waiting here for you. " "OK" replied Hercules. Hercules climbed back into the limousine, having changed into the suit and tie he had found waiting on the double bed in his room. Only three minutes later, the limousine stopped, the door was opened for him and he looked around. He had been dropped off at the theatre by a door marked 'VIP - rows 1-5'. He showed his ticket to the doorman and he was taken to his seat in the front row. To his amazement, the person sitting to his left was the director of Bloomsbury publishers and to his right the film director. He was just looking at the familiar famous faces in the rows behind him, when the lights dimmed, and on stage walked a man as a voice announced " Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Simon Jarvis". Everyone stood, clapping and cheering until he waved them silent. He slowly began to speak. "It has been an incredible 3 years since the first copy of James Galloper was sold in England. Since then, the book has been a huge success all over the world and I am very excited to share the film with you tonight." Hercules felt that he had seen this man before and was almost certain that it was the face he had seen at his window.

Fiction: Group 3

"But before we begin, I would like to thank one person. Without his encouragement, I would never have written 'James Galloper' and that is why I am dedicating this film to my former English Teacher, Hercules Jones, who inspired me to write 'James Galloper'". A huge wave of shock hit Hercules. Everyone around him was cheering, as the spotlight fell onto him briefly, he made a quick bow in acknowledgement. 'Simon Jarvis' then called out to the crowd "Mr Jones, thank you. I would also like to reveal that my real name is Austin Render!" The audience screamed even louder, as the media were frantically scribbling in their notebooks and cameras flashed excitedly. The crowd calmed down as the film began.

Hong Kong's Hero

The British International School Shanghai, Puxi Campus, Tan, Monique - 12,

Fiction: Group 3

I stood boldly as the ground crumbled away and a steady stream of water shot up defiantly. I tapped my foot impatiently as the water began to part away and a glowing figure appeared, spraying me in a shower of spring water.

“Can you turn off the waterworks please?” I grumbled, unsatisfied as the same routine played over again.

“Young warrior, as you know, you are a child of one of the Elements. These are Earth, Fire, Air or

Water.” She droned on while I started to zone out. “This happens when the two forces-” “Hey lady, get on with it! I’ve heard this before- I am Water. What is my quest?” I knelt down on

one knee as I had been told countless times to do so. “You must have patience, brave one. All areas of the world are given to the children of the

Elements. You are the Pearl River Delta.” She smiled at me somewhat worriedly and continued, “Your life is tied to the river and the places connected to it. It is your duty to make sure nothing happens to them. If anything does happen…”

“I can handle protecting some river.” I smirked then stood up and folded my arms in what I hoped

was a fearless gesture, “Just tell me where the trouble is at!” “Don’t get too confident, it may just be your... Hero’s Glitch, shall we say.” Without another

word, she had disappeared and left me on my own. Pearl River Delta… How hard could it be? I glanced back and saw that the crack in the ground that was spraying water had begun to form a stream. I was pretty sure I wasn’t standing in a river bank before but I found myself in one as I tried desperately to climb out. Too late to escape, I realised I was standing shoulder deep in water. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? It was as if it happened in a flash, as if it were magic. The water level was rising by the second. Before I had chance to consider it, I was engulfed in a surge of waves. It was as if my head was being compressed into air and I felt the blood rush through my veins. My whole body was throbbing and I shuddered involuntarily as an overwhelming sensation erupted up my spine. I could feel the current pulling at my body from every direction, its grip as strong as metal. I screamed in agony as my last breath escaped and my lungs were ready to burst. Then, I let go. If I was going to die, why die fighting? Calm down. Stop. Suddenly, it did. The current grew still and I found myself floating back to the surface. I thrashed and gasped for air, still unable to breathe. Did I do that? Then it hit me, I could only control the area I was assigned to. But, how’d I get here? There were too many questions left unanswered. This was only the beginning.

I was in Hong Kong, 21°C, a gentle wind traveling at 14 km/h. I could sense it. Another thing

that shocked me was that when I got out of the river I was dry. I didn’t understand how but I guess it came with the river and being an Element child. Not knowing where to go first, I wandered the streets like a stray puppy. I glanced up and saw the glinting sun reflecting off the Hong Kong International Commerce Centre (ICC). There were several window cleaners dressed in midnight black scaling up the each side of the

Fiction: Group 3

skyscraper. I relaxed, thankful for being tied to such a breath-taking place. I could hear the echo of laughter ringing from the playground nearby. Out of nowhere, a gunshot rang out. The once carefree laughs turned into stone cold screams as everyone scattered. Where had they come from? I had gotten too laid-back and lost sight of my duty. I couldn’t think about that now, I had to focus. I could tell the shots came from a high vantage point by the sound. I looked around, where would that be? The highest point I could see was the ICC building. Then I remembered… The window cleaners.

Turns out, they weren’t just cleaners. In fact, they were madmen who were shooting innocent

citizens. Question was; how do I take them down? I dashed towards the ICC, the tallest building in Hong Kong, and walked in. Although this might not sound as cool as climbing up a skyscraper, I decided the most practical way to get up there was the elevator. I clicked the top floor and stood there impatiently as it began to rise. When the music started chiming in, that was when I decided I couldn’t take it. Luckily, the doors opened before I began to freak out. I rushed to the open window and looked out. There were four men below me. Three more shots rang out and my heartbeat quickened. I peered around, frantically searching for ways to stop them. The fire hydrant! I wasn’t sure if it would work but Hong Kong was part of the Pearl River Delta and if my suspicions were correct, it should. I closed my eyes and willed the fire hydrant to explode. At first, nothing happened. Then the hydrant began to shudder. I opened my eyes to see the sorry excuse of what was left of my plan. It was leaking and spurting water less than an arms width high. I screamed in frustration and the men dressed in black looked up at me menacingly, moments before a rush of water met their stares. There was another round of gunshots. When I dared to look again, they were gone. I stretched upwards in victory oblivious to the striking red creeping onto my shirt. Suddenly, I crumpled to the floor as the fiery pain washed over me like a rip tide. A single bullet lay beside me, now the same colour as my clothing. Deep within me, I found the courage to smile. I was wounded but the city was safe. It was a worthy sacrifice, one even the Elements would be proud of.

Before I knew it, the sky had begun to turn dark. The bright lights of buildings stood out,

contrasting the dying daylight. A blanket of clouds hung overhead like a protective barrier. Nevertheless, Hong Kong still shone with a certain glimmer. It had a buzzing atmosphere, as if the city never slept. The leaves rustled on nearby trees as a gentle breeze flew past. Brown leaves littered the floors and there were flowers strewn everywhere like streamers after a party. The faint aroma drifted with the wind. This was my city, this was Hong Kong. I took a deep breath as unbearable pain climbed further up my back. The amplified noise of police sirens throbbed in my head but I could hardly concentrate. My eyelids grew heavy and I found it extremely hard to hold on. I felt a distant pull, as if my life was trying to escape but I was too tired to fight it. The night had grown closer and the luminous moon that usually kept the dark at bay had begun to fade away… Then, there was a blinding light thrust at my face. Faraway voices pounded in my ears but I still felt isolated and I knew I would feel the same even if I were surrounded by a sea of people.

“Hang on tight. We’ve got you. You’re Hong Kong’s hero, you know that?” The sense of

familiarity hit me like a bull. It was the woman from before, the one who told me about the Pearl River Delta. She wore a long Greek-styled dress that flowed to the floor. She had a sort of glowing aura that made me wonder if I was already in heaven. She radiated comfort and I started to let go. I could feel my life force shifting just out of grasp. I grinned yet again, happy with what I had achieved… Then, I plunged into pitch-darkness.

“No! Mum, I was in the best part!” I whined, setting down my controller in despair. I shot her a glare that dripped with irritation. She waved the plug tauntingly and laughed.

“For the third time, Joe, dinner’s ready.” She shook her head and walked towards the kitchen. I

sighed in exasperation… Guess finishing my quest at the Pearl River Delta would have to wait. But I knew the citizens would welcome me back with open arms. Treat me like their hero, their savior, their-

“Joe! Come eat dinner now!” I reluctantly got to my feet. “Okay mum…” I trudged away, as the screen gave one last flicker of life.

Fiction: Group 3

A Night In Guangzhou The British International School Shanghai, Puxi Campus, Thibaut, Pauline - 13, Fiction: Group 3

walk alongside the river, gentle ripples of water kissing the concrete. A gentle breeze ruffles the leaves and sends them dancing in the corner of my eye. I breathe out the air I kept in, leaving a trail of steam in the atmosphere. Everything here beside the river is calm, like the pink in the sky or the reflections of

city lights in the water. I look up to watch the sun disappear through the buildings on the other side of the river, casting red and orange rays of sunlight. The red triggers something in the back of my mind, something I would’ve hoped to keep hidden for the rest of my life. A flash of red against white, a drop of wine hitting the floor in a dead silent room, fingernails painted red biting into my shoulder. The sting of tears is hard to ignore and I let them fall; let them trickle down the side of my cheek. Red signifies something horrible for me. It signifies my ignorance, my fault, and my mistake. It signifies the day I lost my family. I remember every detail of that day as if it was burned into my mind. Maybe it was, and it will leave a permanent scar that will never fully heal, that will never fully disappear. My eyelids flutter shut, and the face of Dershan Li flashes. His electrifying grey gaze never detaches from mine, the crease in between his eyebrows never softens. His face haunts my dreams nightly, causing sweat-soaked sheets and screams muffled by my hands and teeth. I wake up everyday to a tangle of sheets, am greeted by sweeps of coldness through my veins, hear good morning from the echoes of the city outside my window. Every time I look in the mirror, the person staring back is hardly recognizable. My brown eyes were once lit with excitement and adventure, but now stare back at me without a trace of emotion left.

I leave the side of the river to the road, busy with cars and pedestrians. I forgot what it felt like to be at ease, to wake up in the morning with a clear head. I keep overthinking until I wave a taxi over and hop in. He pulls up and I drop him a tip, the first generous thing I’ve done today. I walk slowly, drawing in my breath. The lights had blinded me before, but now they seem dimmed. The sounds of cars and traffic had blared in my ears, but now it fades to a distant hum. My heart is running laps and my mind has lost its ground and I’m hearing that same police siren on loop. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and retell myself the story.

It was a warm day of April, with the warm air blowing across my exposed shoulders. My blonde

hair was tied back in a straight ponytail at the base of my neck and tickled its way down my bare back. My low-cut golden dress glittered under the moonlight, shone when I walked in my black high heels. My red lips were a sharp contrast against my teeth, my eyes dry and bright. I was jealous and not thinking straight after my breakup with Dershan. I wanted to show Dershan he never should have left me for Rachel, my best friend. I had told Rachel of Dershan’s dangerous and mysterious history with dealers and gamblers, but she hadn’t believed me. Fine. I’d catch him in the act, and I would save Rachel before she got involved in his business. I casted a quick look in the mirror of my taxi, and tossed the driver some money. My heels clicked against the pavement as I walked towards the casino. I walked up to the guard, and whispered into his ear. After a far-away look and a nod, the guard unhooked the entrance and let me pass. I gave myself a mental highfive.

I easily slipped through game after game, mastering the poker face and earning several death glares

from my opponents when I took their money in my hands. I continued rolling the dice, testing my luck. Seeing how far I could go. After finally having enough of gambling, I gathered my things and prepared to leave. I had just stepped outside when a black cloth obscured my view.

A big hand muffled my shout of surprise, clenching around my jaw and pressing painfully against

my mouth. The men hooked both my arms behind my back, ripping my dress slightly with the harsh movement. I cried, screamed, bit and kicked at the men until I was tossed to the ground. The cloth was taken away from my eyes and the light blinded me that I lifted my arm to cover my eyes.

“Have you been snooping around, love?”

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I knew that voice. I woke up to that voice for nearly two years. I used to find comfort in that

voice, but I only felt dread as I slowly put my arm down. Those intense grey eyes and creased forehead were inches away from mine. I yelped in horror and crawled backwards until my head hit the wall. A cold feeling that went down my spine. Dershan paced the room in front of me, muttering, his voice calm and quiet. The voice that screams trouble. I stayed silent until I found my found again.

“R-Rachel doesn’t know what you do, Dershan. You’re a dangerous man and you’re better off in prison.”

I spat right by his polished shoes, proud that my voice didn’t break. Even cowering in the corner of a room with a ripped dress and smudged lipstick, my ego would never die.

“You’re a loose string, gorgeous,” Dershan knelt down right in front of me, his face leveled with mine. His nose nearly touched mine, and I tried shrinking into the mall to put some distance between him and I. Forget the strong ego. “You know what happens to loose strings.”

I pleaded until I couldn’t plead anymore. My eyeliner ran down my face and my knees were black

with grime. He kept me in that room for hours. I stood up on my shaking knees and hammered at the walls, screaming until my voice broke. I finally gave up and sunk to the ground, and didn’t move until light rays peeked through the opening door.

“Mr. Li?” a man raised his eyebrow at me. “Yes, yes, Wang. That is Beatrice. Say hello, darling.” I glared at Dershan, knowing my voice

would betray my fear. “She isn’t very nice,” Dershan smiled at me, “since we’ve done you a very, very generous favor.”

I would’ve scoffed if I weren’t so scared. I would have flipped him off with a smart remark and a flick of my eyebrow if I had the energy left. All I could do was keep my head up while Dershan’s two bodyguards hauled me up to my feet and marched me through a back door I hadn’t even realized was there.

The night air was such a relief that I took my first deep breath. Men grabbed both my arms, tossed

me into the backseat of the car and slammed the door. “What are you going to do with me?” a line I’ve heard a thousand times in movies, but I had to

say it. I was terrified, and Dershan could see it. “Nothing, sweetheart. We’re only going to take you someplace so you can see our show. Nothing

will happen to you. We’ll let you go,” he purred. The ride didn’t take long at all. My gaze turned to the familiar sight of my favorite place in

GuangZhou, the Haiyin Bridge. The men flanked me, hooking their arms on either side and practically dragging me. No pedestrians were in sight at this time of night, except for a pair of people standing in the middle of the bridge, with men tying their wrists and ankles together.

Dershan marched in front of my view. I ran through a list of horrible things he might be up to in a

matter of seconds, but none of them came close to seeing my sister’s terrified eyes and my mother’s tears streaking her face. They were standing dangerously close to the edge. I knew what Dershan was going to do even before he ordered them off.

Now, as I look at the dark waters of the river, I wonder what would have happened if I didn’t go

out that night to the casino. They would still be alive, they wouldn’t have had to pay for a mistake I made. I walk back down the bridge, towards the main road. I feel better, my mind clearer. I remember that last week, I received the news of Dershan Li’s arrest. Rachel called in a mix of happiness and grief, joy and anger, but in the end, both of us are relieved.

Fiction: Group 3

Two Opium Pearls The British International School Shanghai, Puxi Campus, Woo, Lara - 11,

Fiction: Group 3

17th November, 1840- Hong Kong

n endless road of red banners completely dominated the crumbly buildings, black calligraphy neatly painted like swirling patterns to grant good luck. Winter had come early, and white snow dusted the ground- sharp rocks jutting out of the crisp, thin ice, the cold stone underneath in a sleeping

death. The sun was peaking out from behind the houses, orange streaks emanating like it had a heavenly glow. Hundreds of black wires spread above the city like bars of a cage, the only thing that separated the two lives from one another. A volcanic pain erupted through Mo’s body when Bei jabbed her stomach. Mo winced, feeling the pain of yesterday. She looked at the girl standing beside her who was punching the air, eyebrows furrowing in disappointment. Slowly, Mo reached for her notebook from under the bed and started reading her scruffy sketches. “I did not wake you up to hunch over your book,” demanded Bei, who now had her hands on her hips. Sighing, she ran her callused fingers through her sweaty hair in agitation. Mo showed every sign of hearing, but made no movement. The pair fought a tough battle the day before. They had failed to steal a tracking device, a crucial part of their original plan, finding the ports in China where opium was shipped from India. Mo had so many bleeding bruises she could hardly walk, and Bei had to carry the frail body back home. She only woke that morning, still uncovered, but apparently still able to get her beloved book. “Gunshots. They’ve started firing. We need to go. You’re not in the best condition, but we have no choice. We’re tracking Karl, who has opium flowers, Plan B.” As if automated, a formidable sound boomed across the small room right on cue. Shivering, the two girls hurried themselves into their outing clothes, knowing what they were against. Unfortunately, they had no weapons. Mo cringed at her body, but knew there was nothing she could do. The two girls stumbled onto the road, gagging at the thick smoke that was infused in the air. “Karl Gutzlaff- German spymaster, helps smuggle opium into parts of China, from Britain. Master of disguises,” Mo recited by memory. “He’s supposed to be here-” Before she could finish her sentence, Bei had run off. Mo followed, but her injured body screamed louder every second. When she finally caught up, she had trouble breathing and wobbly legs. “Wait for… Me…” Mo panted. “Sorry,” not sounding sorry, “I thought you were beside me. Karl was literally beside us. I almost caught him when I tripped.” “Be careful. Anyway, it could be someone else.” Bei looked offended. “Just, try spotting him. Blue dress, pigtail and moustache.” Mo scanned the crowd rapidly, her analytical brain helping her sort.

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“There, on the left! The stall there: Charsiew buns! They’re so good! Huh… I’m going to-” “NO.” Bei snapped impatiently. “No breaks. Serious business here.” Before long, Mo had recognised Karl, and they chased the famous spymaster around Hong Kong. Keeping an eye out for the Pearl River Delta as a reference, the two girls scrambled through countless alleyways, dodging people. Although Mo had trained for that, her body had forgotten everything. Staggering, Mo’s legs finally gave way to her suddenly heavy weight. All her muscles drooped and her body crumpled like a shot animal, unable to move. Bei knelt down in panic, felt her hand and frowned at the scorching heat. “When did you last drink water?” Bei asked soothingly. It was such an unexpected reaction that Mo’s eyes opened. “Go on without me.” Then she fainted. Bei never had a soft heart. She had grown up with her older brothers, all so violent. Bei was the only girl; she joined them in their games, becoming one of them. Don’t let the emotions interfere was her personal motto, and she followed it well. But now, looking at her helpless friend, Bei’s eyes welled up with tears. Just seconds ago she seemed indestructible. Now, she was a baby. At some point Bei finally looked up, finding herself staring at an oddly familiar face. Bei dismissed the thought. He was wearing a crumpled yellow shirt and damp khaki pants. No, haven’t seen him before. “My name’s Hua. A boss of an opium den nearby. I saw you two here, and thought you might want to rest inside.” Bei nodded timidly, helping Hua carry Mo to his den. Along the way, Bei learnt that Hua had increasingly better income due to the development of the Pearl River Delta, as well as the increase of opium buyers. She told him about tracking Gutzlaff in return. She avoided the reason, though. When Hua opened the door, Bei immediately started coughing and shivering, unused to the strong smell of opium and the decrease in temperature. Hua went and came back with a cold towel and a glass of warm water. When Mo woke, she looked around dazedly, taking in her surroundings silently, then fixed her gaze upon Hua. Mo quickly shifted her eyes to Bei, and smiled meekly. Hua cleared his throat urgently. “I’ll leave you two. Please feel free to continue on your quest. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go.” “We must repay you, your generosity!” Bei called. “No need, no need.” Then he was gone. Mo abruptly sat up with frantic eyes. She seemed well again, miraculously. “That’s him!” Bei shook her head. “No, that’s Hua, owner of this opium den. He just helped you recover, and you’re accusing him of being Karl?” “YES! Just chase him! What harm can it do anyways?” We’ll lose time, Bei thought. But then again, she had no better plan. Reluctantly, Bei agreed, letting Mo drag her out onto the streets once more.

Fiction: Group 3

Their hope faded after a while. Mo finally released her death grip when they stopped running. “I’m sure he-” A hand clasped over her mouth, holding both hands in position while tying them together. Mo could only scream. The man grinned, but his eyes remained cold. “Yes, I’m Karl Gutzlaff. You actually believed I was Hua? I thought you were smarter than that, but apparently not.” Bei tried to kick Karl, but he somersaulted and punched Bei hard in the jaw. Bei shrieked in agony, the pain too much. Karl quickly tied Bei up as well. Ugh. It started long ago. Since Karl Gutzlaff’s mother died, he lived on the smoky streets of London, by himself. He made invisible friends to accompany him. One lucky day, a British officer noticed Karl’s talent in disguises, and recruited him. The affection he got from that stranger made him so happy, and was willing to do anything for him. Two years later, Karl’s position was ‘spymaster’, scheduled to be shipped to China. “Walk to the river.” Bei was mutinous, swearing shamelessly. “I will catch-” “I don’t think so.” “Give me five minutes.” Bei’s gaze was like Medusa. Karl Gutzlaff chuckled. “I don’t think there’ll be a five minutes for you.” Shortly after, the three were at the end of the dock. It stretched about midway across the river, and the water was deep. Karl was positioning them side by side, the water right below their eyes. Bei kept threatening him, but they both knew she was powerless. Mo began murmuring something, her tears forming a river of her own. “We look back, we look forward. We cherish the moments we had and regret the chances we missed. We will remember those we love, as well as hate. We celebrate, mourn, laugh, cry. We frown and smile at what had happened, and we dream and hope of what will. I believe in freedom and choice.” Bei, understanding perfectly, nodded her head. She finally let the tears she held for so long run down her cheeks: those years she spent alone and unwanted when her brothers were gone, finding food in the rubbish cans. Karl was oblivious to anything that was happening. Mo thought of the day she met Bei. It was early, and Bei was sitting in a corner, watching people. Mo was walking the streets, and headed towards Bei in curiousity. “Hi” was all it took. Bei was watching Mo intensely. She had that look she had when she thought of crazy plans. For once, Mo encouraged, lips curling. They were doing it. The final jump. Mo shuffled closer to Bei, brushing fingertips against wrist. Mo looked out at the river and thanked it silently. It really was beautiful, despite its polluted water. It had looked after them, watching their growth like the parents they never had. “Together?” Mo asked. “Always.” Bei replied. Then they jumped. 1st July, 1997- Hong Kong returns to mainland China, marking the end of British rule of the colony. The opium circle comes to an end.

Fiction: Group 3

The Way of the Mind - atop Victoria Harbour

The British International School Shanghai, Puxi Campus, Yan, Natarsha - 11,

Fiction: Group 3

he ICC stood, a tall, gleaming building boasting of modern technology and power. Soft rays of sunlight bounced off its translucent silver and grey panelling and the Victoria Harbour was especially dazzling underneath its glisten. A large wooden boat straight out of a 18th century oil

painting with crimson fan- shaped sails and a proud dragon figurehead trailed across the water, leaving rippling pools in its wake. It was a rich blend of modern and ancient- a perfect re-enactment of the glorious city of Hong Kong. But the man high above, on the 100th floor of the famous ICC, third tallest building in the world, did not care for the majestic scenery around him. He only had his eyes on one thing. In the private VIP rooms of the observatory Sky100, with its large, floor-to-ceiling bullet-proof glass windows and rich, plush furniture, Dr. James A. Yen, renowned Hong Kong scientist and psychologist was presenting his new invention- a device known as Psyche. It was an invention that surpassed anything at its time. It was a device that allowed travel through the mind. A journey through a mindscape. And today the device was about to be tested for the first time. “Are you ready?” Dr. Yen asked the girl in front of him. “ Yes.” She replied, brimming with anticipation, strapped to dozens of tubes and wires. Dr. Yen smiled. And the girl closed her eyes. Grey. That was the only word to describe it. A soft mist hung over the land, shrouding the rolling mountains behind it, soft and jagged at the same time. A feeling of serenity and calm swept through the air, tiny droplets of water cascading down gently. A sliver of light up high in the horizons, bathed the grey with a sheen of light gold. She reached up, ever so slowly, and her hand passed through the mist. The mist slowly dissipated into wisps of smoke drifting across the sky. The sliver of light that had been cloaked by the mist expanded into a warm, buttery orb casting a soft halo over the land. The mountains came into view and fresh forests burst on top the before barren rocks. Flowers bloomed- cherry blossoms, lilac tulips, morning glories- a garden of vibrant colours, their sweet odours wafting through. A few birds twittered atop the trees, their voices signalling the sweet beginning. She sat on the lush green grass and she smiled at the scene around her. She liked beginnings. Nothing bad happened then. The sun was higher and it was a Xanthus amber now. A river flowed down the mountains, a clear cool crystalline blue. Blue as the azure skies, now filled with an avian of wings, with bold eagles and proud falcons and the common sparrows. Down on the vast open plains, the mighty lions shook their heavy manes and roared; the elegant antelopes and gazelles raced swiftly across the savannah; the regal jaguars sprinted with a speed out of the world and the sly red foxes snuck around the bushes. She gazed around at the animals and laughed. It was a sound of pure happiness. She was free. She was happy. She was at the top of the world. The sky began to darken. The clouds rolled in. The animals scattered from the grasslands into the shelters of their homes. The land had lost its pure happy hue. Light raindrops fell softly down. Pitter- patter. Pitter- patter. Its continuous rhythm lulled her into a dazed trance. She felt something. Something different. She felt… melancholy. The rain fell harder. They were bigger now. Huge. The wind howled and sliced through the pitch black sky. Lightning flashed. Thunder roared. Trees shook and shuddered, some wrenched out of the ground, their roots shaking wildly. The flowers fell, their fragile petals broken and destroyed, scattered across the ground. They were the colour of blood. She clutched her head, trying to block out the horrifying scene before her and the terrible, terrible noises. Ghosty phantoms screamed and wailed inside her head. Their gnarled fingers seemed to snatch and tear at her. She screamed. She felt it. Pain. Sorrow. Grief. She felt true devastation. The wind died down. The rain fell softer. The lightning stopped flashing and the thunder stopped roaring. Silence. All was quiet. The storm had stopped its relentless torture. Or had it? All across the land were mementoes from the storm before. The once beautiful landscape was now destroyed. Torn apart. Trees lay uprooted from the soil. Flowers were scattered torn and stolen of its beauty, a once joyous symbol but one of devastation now. Of the terrible aftermath. Broken animal bodies were clustered together, the remnants

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of the creatures desperate for escape. As she looked around her, she felt something build up inside her. Something powerful. Anger. The ground rumbled beneath her feet. Jagged lines cut through the ground. White- hot lava seeped through, waves of anger and power. She stood at the top of the volcano. Her arms were spread wide. She laughed. It was a cruel, mirthless sound, stolen of its joy. She felt powerful. She felt dangerous. She felt unstoppable. She was angry. She would hurt. She would harm. It was her turn. And the volcano exploded. The ground stopped its rumble. The anger was gone. She felt tired. But content. There was a soft rainbow high above, from the storm before. There were beads of dew on the glistening leaves. The air was still warm from the volcanic eruption. But now the mountain was still. There was always a rainbow after a storm. The birds twittered again. This time they were signalling the end of a cycle and the start of another one. She smiled. Life was a cycle. She opened her eyes. She was still sitting where she had been, in the heart of Hong Kong, high above the rooftops. Yet she had travelled a long way. She had travelled the way of the mind.

Fiction: Group 3

Phoenix and The Rose The Chinese Foundation Secondary School, Wong, Nicole - 12, Fiction: Group 3

he Pearl River Delta, a place where the hidden tales to be told. A mysterious tale with passion, love and friendship between to worlds and deceitful people. 1976, vexation was haunting the village. Many vehicles on the waves have crossed the seven seas,

searching of riches and to build a colony. In the village lived a middle-aged well income woman and her young graceful, elegant, exquisite and aesthetic daughter, Feng-Huang (or as we say in English, Phoenix). Every gentleman in this under-developed town had their eyes set on the prey….. Phoenix. Across the oceans two gentlemen who used to inhabit the land of Elizabeth II. One was a 40-year-old duke while the other was a 23-year-old gentleman who was valorous, intelligent, headstrong and quite charming and took the name Sir Walter Edward Augustus (or just Walter). They were on an adventure, and adventure that will take them to a whole new world. Although technology was quite usually in most parts, they were going to an isolated resort with limited access to what was then the modern world. Sir Walter and Duke Augustus set foot on Pearl River Delta, they were very elevated. Duke Augustus encountered the entrepreneur he was looking for and decided to allow Walter to roam the town on his own. Walter went to Qian Street to but some rations, but then he laid eyes of the most alluring lady he had ever perceived. He followed the lady in the pink and peach silk garment with blood red lipstick and peach pink blush. He followed the lady all the way to the lady’s back yard. In the garden there were numerous tress and flower that blossomed and bloomed. On the small bridge that lies above the small river, there, it was the lady. Walter right went up to the beautiful lady and shyly asked, “Wh..whats..you..r nn..name?”. Phoenix seemed extremely confused, then Walter tried again, he pointed at himself and said “Walter”. Phoenix then understood, she tried to speak Chinese to him but he didn’t understand, she ended up pointing at a picture of a phoenix and pointed at herself. He understood. Phoenix showed and taught him how to buy himself stuff. They fell in love. They went on for hours until Phoenix and Walter`s parents called them each home, they said their goodbyes and left. `Why on Earth are you talking to this Western folk! You are banned from talking to him ever again! ` They argued for over an hour, the final decision was no. Phoenix`s mother disagreed with the Western gentleman. Her mother decided to make an appointment with the matchmaker. A few days later, her mother told Phoenix that she is going to marry the rich dude next door in two days. Phoenix knew that she couldn’t get out of this so she went out to find Walter to inform him. A few hours later, she finally found him. She tried to tell him about the wedding but just couldn’t get Walter to understand. He thought that something was suspicious so he decided to follow her around for the next few days. Two days later, the day of were one broken heart and one heart of desire for a beautiful lady. When the matrimony ceremony was just about to begin, Phoenix cried her heart out as she was dragged outside. Then when the connection ceremony was about to begin, Walter appeared in a flash and tried to stop the wedding, but the guards pushed him back. Phoenix threw the rose in her hair to Walter and pulled out the dagger that she hid in her dress. She aimed it at her heart and before anyone could stop her, she pushed it, right into her heart. The red blood rushed out, with the red liquid squirting out. Walter was crushed; he pulled out the rose and dipped the thorns in the poison that was kept in the pocket of one of the guards. Then he pierced his finger with the thorns of the rose. The poison infected the finger as the poison flew through Walter`s veins. He fell on to the ground and froze as the poison decimated him. Both Walter`s and Phoenix`s father and mother bawled at the sight of the two corpses. Then, as fast as a flash of light, Phoenix burnt to ashes and came back to life as a Phoenix that held a rose that meant that both hearts were as one, together. Their parents understood and made a vow never to be racists and believed that love will always find a way. That is the tale of love, culture and hatred with the moral of following your heart and that you can’t force love.

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PÅNÅCEÅ The International School of Macao, Chan, Jonathan - 12, Fiction: Group 3

hey took me into the room. Injected me with their chemicals. They made me inhuman as I tried to overcome their power. They made me indestructible as I started to lose hope. They made me one of them as my last tear carried all my emotions into the river. I can’t feel anything. Can’t remember

anything. Blackout... The shining sun filled up the hovercraft with life as I slid the cover of the window open. I spotted

the famous Pearl River and the dusty city ruins. My team and I were going back to the Pearl River to decontaminate its waters. The war had left most of the man made structures in shambles and we, the Re-Foundation, were trying to restore everything to its former glory, but there was only so much we could do.

It was an odd day. It felt as if I had done this a thousand times although I had no memory of it. I was neither excited, nor scared. I wanted to feel sad, but it was a challenge. I tried to feel happy, but that was a far more difficult task. At last, we reached the Pearl River. The hovercraft began to slow down. It skidded across the river surface creating big and lively splashes of water. As a drop of water hit my mouth, a sharp pain sliced through my brain and a vision burst to life. I could not handle this kind of familiar pain. I dropped on the floor as my teammates, Thalia and Raymond, ran to me.

“Terence! Are you ok?” The sunlight attacked my eyes and I fell into the agony of unconsciousness. I had a dream about the vision I saw. It was me, but a me with less muscles, and less body weight.

Then these doctors, the doctors of the Re-Foundation, were injecting me with a chemical, as I fought to break free. As soon as the chemicals started spreading through my veins, I went into a deep slumber.

“Done,” said one of the doctors. “His heart stopped beating. He’s ready for the tank.” Two nurses grabbed me and inserted me into a cylindrical tank. They slammed the top shut while

blue fluid began to envelop me in a warm liquid coat. Then I was placed next to… next to all the other people in my team.

Reality slapped me awake. The vision was gone. I was half conscious when two doctors in front of me said, “The sample showed that the river water contains healing chemicals. A splash must have gone into his mouth and brought back some of the old memories. We must condition him again.”

“No,” said the other doctor in a hoarse voice, “The others might find out. Let him be, but no more missions to the Pearl River for him.”

I knew it was not the right time to ask questions. I pretended I was still unconscious and waited until the two doctors walked out. “Conditioning?” I thought. “What do they mean? Old memories?” Something told me that the vision I had had was not a vision. It was a memory. I ran out of the room and back to the dorm. I knew what needed to be done. I knew why all my memories seemed fake. Thalia and the other members stood up as I walked in.

“Don’t your memories seem fake?” They all nodded in agreement. “This is not us! They’ve done something! We need to be cured!” That speech shook everyone awake.

“The Re-Foundation is not the government, they’re outsiders,” Raymond said excitedly. A sharp pain seemed to hit everyone including me. Pieces of memories came back to us.

Immediately guards of the Re-Foundation ran in, guns pointed at us. “Come with us and we will not shoot. Resist and we will.”

But as wardens of The Re-Foundation, we had the same weapons they did. Raymond and I took charge. In an instant, the room turned into a war zone. Soon, the guards’ bodies were strewn all over the floor.

Sixteen hover boards laid lifelessly in the parking area. We jumped on them. Once the hover boards sensed out weight, they levitated above the ground and began to glide leaving history behind. They floated weightlessly, twisting and turning down narrow dusty streets. We rose higher and higher. Up there in the thin air, I could finally breathe. I finally felt alive. Below us, the Pearl River meandered its way through the valley.

“Let’s get down there,” said Thalia. “Terrence, you’re going to have to lead us.”

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So I did. The hover board dropped down a hundred feet then steadied itself again. In the distance, I could see hovercrafts approaching fast. The others saw them, too.

“Hurry up!” urged Francis. I formed a small bowl with my hands. Water rushed into my palms and I gulped it down

breathlessly. Throbbing headaches returned. This time I did not faint. The others followed my lead. Excruciating headaches hit them, too. Time was running out. “We gotta keep moving!” yelled Raymond. The hover boards slid seamlessly across the Pearl River. We tried to escape the hovercrafts by splitting up in different directions. At last, we lost them. When we were reunited we shared our memories. There had been no world war. In a both horrible and terrifying moment, we understood that the Re-Foundation was a terrorist group trying to take over Earth by annihilating people’s memories and forcing them to join their side. Suddenly, an overwhelming ache paralyzed me. How could I have forgotten? My family! Where were they? I had to find them and keep them safe. I was the eldest son, so I no sacrifice was too great if I could reunite my family. “I know,” said Thalia startling me from my daydream. “There is still a safe place. The Under city!” “That place is not far,” said Francis, “we can be there by midnight.” “We’ll have to split up to prevent being followed.” said Raymond, “If we don’t, we might as well just kill the million people living down there.” He was right. Back on our hover boards, we followed the maps that the Re-Foundation had inserted into our brain, and switched on our 24-hour-brain to fight sleep. Even though they had a map of the world, the terrorists did not know where the Under city was.

Soon, I arrived at our meeting point to see a big tree that had “Under the Secret” carved on it. I could not remember how I knew I was supposed to wait there, but I was grateful for the memories that the river healed. I stood and stood as hope started to lose its hold on my mind. Unexpectedly, a masked figure turned up beside me. Soon after, two more masked figures arrived running. They grabbed me and the first figure pointed a threatening device at me. It scanned me and made a beeping noise. My heart started beating as loud as a roaring lion. The first figure pinched the fabric on the left side of my waist. He took out a small chip. A tracker, of course. Finally, the figures all pulled off their masks revealing their faces. I was surprised by how similar they were, and then I realized that they were triplets. The triplets led me to an entryway disguised as a dark cave covered with leaves. One of the brothers stood up and swiped a card on the back wall of the cave, which opened to reveal another dark entryway. I walked blindly until the spark of hope lit up the end of the corridor. I stepped into the light and the vision I was met with was phenomenal. A huge city unfolded before me. The further I walked, the more astonishing it became. Some of the buildings burst out in colors, others looked like vintage postcards. The air sung all around me. People wore smiles like their best Sunday clothes. Not long after, the guards led me to an office at the far end of the city. The other wardens were already there. Behind the imposing desk, a friendly man in a light suit was sitting in a big chair. “You’re welcome to stay and become one of us. A rebel.” So, I did. Together, we were stronger. We found our cure.

Fiction: Group 3

River Spirit The International School of Macao, Gouse, Afreen - 12, Fiction: Group 3

t’s been years.

I was only seven when I got taken away, so I suppose my memory has faded a little bit since then, so all the events may or may not be so accurate.

We were at the beach. I remember that the sky was clear, and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. The sun beat down on us, and if it hadn’t been for the umbrella, I’m sure I would’ve been darker than obsidian. For me, it was the perfect day. I was sitting on a mat in the shade and my mother was chatting with my aunts. My father was playing in the sea with my older brother while I dug my toes in the hot sand and hummed nursery rhymes.

Soon it was time for lunch and my mother handed out paper plates. She spooned a serving of lettuce-and-tomato salad onto my plate, followed by a lump of mashed potatoes. My mother’s feeble attempts at western food did not taste good, so when nobody was looking, I dumped my food onto the ground and covered it with sand.

My brother handed out juice boxes. I slurped mine up and gave it to my father who tossed into the sea and ran off to stop my brother from swimming too far.

After lunch, I picked my way through the sand to the shoreline, trying not to step on any sharp rocks or seashells. I tiptoed to the tide and felt the cool water tickle my feet as the wet sand swallowed them. It was liberating. For the first time, my mother wasn’t watching me intently to make sure I didn’t dip in ‘that dirty seawater.’ She was instead talking slowly and amiably with my little cousin as she told her about preschool. My mother’s sweet younger sister was singing a lullaby to her newborn daughter - a beautiful, sleepy melody that reflected the day. My mean aunt was snoring loudly, and the umbrella that she had propped up above her had rolled off to one side leaving her exposed to the sun. I splashed the cool water onto my face. Suddenly, I had the urge to dunk myself in the foamy sea. Why not? The water felt refreshing on my scorched skin and it was definitely worth my mother’s ire. I had to keep it quiet, though, so I advanced tentatively. I took another step and watched my knees disappear under the dark water. When I put my foot down again, I felt something squishy under my toes. I nearly screamed, but was relieved to feel the fine sand under my feet. I wondered what it was, but decided not to dwell on it. I kept walking until the water was up to my shoulders. That’s it, I told myself. Just dunk your head in. Then swim to your brother, splash loudly, and come out of the water yelling, ‘Jin! You pushed me!’ and you won’t get in trouble. But it didn’t happen that way.

=== I followed the first part of my plan. I took a deep breath and let myself sink to the bottom. That’s

when I felt something wrap around my ankle. I struggled and tried to wrench it off, but in vain. I used all my energy to swim up to the surface, and managed to stay there long enough to yell, ‘Mama! Help!’ and see her stare at me, horrified, screaming, ‘Leena!’

I inhaled sharply before I got pulled back into the water. And then everything went black.

=== I woke up to feel my comfortable yellow summer blanket draped over my face and hear the

constant blub-blub-blubbing of the fish tank in my room. I yanked the blanket off my face and yelled, “Mama! I had a nightmare!” only to discover that I was still having a nightmare. The yellow summer blanket was, in fact, a fuzzy red throw.

I was in a huge transparent bubble and surrounding it was… the sea? The water was shallow and I could the see the sun hovering above me, twinkling brightly as I stood up. The blubbing sounds came from fish swimming near my bubble. Their mouths opened and closed soundlessly as they swam past.

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Fiction: Group 3

A silver doorway was opposite my bed, giving me an easy escape, but I was more interested in other things. I walked slowly to the edge of the bubble and pushed my finger through it. Nothing happened. I threw myself at the barrier and it bounced me back to the sandy floor. “Please don’t do that. The bubble’s feelings get hurt if you do,” a quiet voice rang out.

I looked at the doorway. A girl around my age stood there. Her midnight blue hair swept down to her waist. She wore a pearly pink dress that reached below her knees. Her sad eyes followed me as I walked up to her. “Hi, I’m Leena. Who are you?” I asked her. My mother insisted that I always introduce myself before saying anything. “I’m Pearl.” Her voice was sad and cold. “Hi, Pearl. Where are we?” I asked her. “Under the sea,” she replied. “Oh, umm. What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” “You’ll understand when the time is right.” “Um, I need to get out of here. I miss my family.” I really did. Even my brother. “Can you help?” “No,” she said abruptly and then walked out of the bubble.

=== I followed Pearl out into a long corridor. The metallic walls of the hallway were illuminated by bright lights. The young girl turned around and hissed at me. “It’s time.” “In there,” she pointed at a plain white wood door. When I turned to ask Pearl what was behind this door, she was gone. I walked in.

=== The door opened into a white room. Everything was stark white: the walls, the carpet, the furniture. Even the air inside had a milky quality to it. In the back of the room there was a desk. A sign on the desk told me that it belonged to Ms. Del Peri. She could have passed for Pearl’s sister in her white suit with her dark hair tied up in a bun. She was typing away on her laptop. “Yes?” Del looked at me, as if I was just another colleague passing through. “Pearl told me to come in here.” I said. “Oh, you’re the new arrival, are you? I’m Ms. Peri.” She sifted through a pile of papers on her desk. “Miss Leena Hua, hmm?” I nodded. “Daughter of Lin Hua and Dai Hua. Seven years old. What are you in for, human? Oh, here it is. Father was litteri-” She stopped and looked up at me. Her eyes blazed angrily. “Oh, very serious. I don’t understand why Jelly took you though. Come with me.” She got up and walked out the door. I followed her. She led me back to a familiar place - the bubble. I tried to follow her out again, but the silver door shut and trapped me inside. I cried myself to sleep that night in the bubble.

=== Sometimes I had dreams. Most were about my family. One time it was Pearl. She would make fun of me while I glared at her fiercely. For some reason, I get the feeling that it wasn’t a dream.

=== After what felt like a few ‘days’, but I was later to understand had been seven long years above the water, Del Peri walked into my room, grabbed my arm, and dragged me out bed. I was only half-awake and quite confused.

Del put me on a giant seashell that rose out of the water into the air. I smelled air, fresh air, not stuffy bubble-air. The seashell was like a sled. It skipped on the sea, like one of the flat stones that my brother and I used to throw into the pond.

After a while, I saw green silhouettes. Hills like huge elephants drinking at a watering hole. The shell halted abruptly near the shore with a spray of tiny drops. The bright yellow sand was glittering in the sun.

Fiction: Group 3

I jumped off the shell and splashed in the water, but gone was the delight of the former days. When I reached land, I felt the same hot sand as the day I disappeared. “Leena?” I turned around. Standing there, her mouth wide open, was my mother. She had been coming to the shore every day I was gone. “Mama!” I hugged her. I missed her the most. “What-how…?” She stared at me. I was happy after that.

Don’t take what you have for granted. Cherish it and make the most of it. But don’t worry. Not all river spirits are kidnappers.

I should know - because I am one.

Fiction: Group 3

Shimmer The International School of Macao, Sutton, Dylan - 12, Fiction: Group 3

ain. I feel so much pain. My stolen plasma gun is lying next to me smashed to pieces. I feel like I’ve just been hit by a gigantic fist. Oh wait, I just was. Everything around me is either destroyed or on fire. The air smells like smoke. My lungs refuse to breathe. Suddenly, everything around me goes

dark. Five hours earlier…

The digital sun lights up my room instantly. “Good morning, sir. How would you like your coffee today?” “Sigh. No coffee for me today, computer. Turn on the shower, download the route to work, prepare my usual breakfast and turn on the sprinklers.” “Yes, sir.” “TV, channel 1337.” “Yes, sir.” The smart TV executes my order. “This just in! The Pearl River Delta claims another victim. This once popular tourist attraction well known for its water’s high level of radioactivity claimed another life this morning. A bank robber making his getaway in a heavily modified yellow hover car crashed into the side of the road and landed in the middle of the river. Witness reports indicate that bubbling continues at the crash site. This is GLADTEC news. Stay with us. We will be back after a short break.’ GLADTEC is up to no good. Last year they built a nuclear reactor under the Pearl River Delta. Soon after, its core overloaded and started leaking toxic chemicals into the river. That put an end to all river transportation as ships began slowly to disintegrate on the water. The excited voice of the news anchor follows me around the house as I take my shower and devour my breakfast.

I take out my hover car keys, but their radioactive glow blinds me and I drop them. They disappear into a crack in the asphalt. “Great, guess I’ll just use my brain chip.” The hover car door unlocks. I get my plasma gun out of the glove box. “ Good morning, sir. Please state your destination.” “Office.” The engine starts to hum and I’m on my way to work. Warning holograms keep popping up along the road alerting me to the dangers of swimming in the river.

I park and take the capsulator up to the 145th floor. Another day at the office. Another gadget by GLADTEC. This time it’s a circlebot that hovers around and helps you live. We slowly forget how to use our bodies to do the simplest things.

From my office windows I can see the site of the accident. Hover jets are circling the area. A slight movement catches my eye. It seems to intensify. Suddenly, a huge hump rises out of the water. I gasp. The Pearl River waters are sucked into this amorphous body. They’re feeding into a yellow orb at its center, which must be the nuclear core becoming unstable. I’ve seen it happen before with mutated fish, but never this large.

The creature rises above the ground and lets out a deafening roar. I rush towards the capsulator and find myself sandwiched between office workers on the way down. We dart out of the building as the monster releases another glass shattering roar. Hover jets are blindly firing lasers and plasma orbs at it. It explodes and we yell in excitement. It’s gone. Or is it? We stare in shock, as the monster is reborn from the radioactive goop. It’s no longer bright yellow, but speckled with blue and red. That’s when we realize that it has absorbed the plasma orbs and lasers, which it now fires back at all the buildings around. Everything is on fire. Entire office towers collapse around us like cardboard boxes.

I want to get away as fast as I can, but I cannot leave my peaceful city fall prey to the horrendous monster. I have to do something. Anything. I suddenly remember that there is an anti-radiation shield at the Hong Kong airport. I quickly run to the fire exit and get to the carpark. I stop as part of the ceiling crumbles. I stare in shock as rock and dust bury my car. I am about to give up when I notice an abandoned super hover car. I’ve always wanted to drive one! I get in, but there are no keys. The entire ceiling is threatening to come crashing down. I have to act fast. I quickly check the glove box. No keys there. I check the floor. Nothing. Then I see a hidden compartment. I punch it open and find the spare keys. I quickly start up the hover car. Luckily the car assistant is offline otherwise I’d be trapped in here.

As I drive out of the car park, I am horrified by the destruction, but there’s no time to mourn. A plasma orb is heading towards me. I stomp on the accelerator. 100 mph, 200 mph, 300 mph. The homing plasma orb is still on my tail. I press the overload engine button. The hover car immediately goes to 1000

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Fiction: Group 3

mph. I leave the plasma orb in my dust just as a wall rises ahead of me. I pull up like a pilot about to crash his plane. I close my eyes as I see my death unfold.

I open my eyes again and realize the hover car is soaring towards the clouds. A billion warning flashes go off. I’m going too high. This vehicle cannot handle high altitudes and pieces of it start coming off. Suddenly, my worst nightmare is happening. The engine shuts down from overheating. I can’t even use the eject button. I’m falling out of the sky like a shot bird.

I once again stare at my doom. What a stupid mistake trying to be a hero! I close my eyes waiting for the hover car to explode as it hits the ground. THUMP! I’m floating on the gelatinous head of the monster. This is my chance to save the world after all. I try to start the engine but it just would not budge. We’re sinking into the radioactive body.

I desperately look around trying to find a way out of this mess. A familiar looking object is sticking out from under the passenger’s seat. It’s a first edition plasma gun in mint condition. Not many things have changed since then. It powers on just like one of the more recent models. As I inadvertently fire the plasma gun, it cracks the window and radioactive waters start trickling in. A blue flashing light indicates the option to repair broken devices. I point it at the hover car’s engine. “Hurry up already!” I hit the car’s power button with tremendous force. The engine makes a loud clicking sound and, finally, I hear that glorious super hover car start up sound. I slam on the accelerator. The bottom of the car is slowly disintegrating as we sink deeper into slime. The monster is struggling in pain, thrashing its body around. I finally manage to blast out of its viscous brain in search for the airport.

I don’t have much time as beeping signals indicate radioactive matter seeping into the engine. I find the landing strip and attempt to bring the hover car down. With a crashing sound, I touch down only to realize that the hover car is shedding more parts. I leave a trail of sparks as the vehicle grinds on the asphalt.

I have to abandon my dream hover car. I blast off the door with the plasma gun and jump out. In shock, I watch it crash into the air traffic control center, which collapses onto the airport building. I have to find a way to transport the anti-radiation shield. To my left, an old fashion propeller plane is droning. The pilot is watching the destruction in a daze. We load the shield onto the plane and take off.

We circle the monster looking for the best angle to hit it from. Suddenly, as the pilot checks on the state of our cargo, we realize that the loading bay is stuck and will not open to release the shield. There’s only one thing to do. We set the plane on autopilot, strap parachutes on, and jump. As we float towards the ground, our eyes follow the heavy body of the steel bird crash into the plasma. Instantly, the shield begins to absorb the radioactive substance leaving behind the river that flows back into its dry bank. With a last spasmodic effort, the monster throws a punch in our direction. Pain. I feel so much pain. My stolen plasma gun is lying next to me smashed to pieces. I feel like I’ve just been hit by a gigantic fist. Oh wait, I just was. Everything around me is either destroyed or on fire. The air smells like smoke. My lungs refuse to breathe. In the distance, the waters of the Pearl River Delta shimmer in the sun. Suddenly, everything around me goes dark.

Fiction: Group 3

Mystery of the Pearl River Delta The Lutheran Academy of Hong Kong, Sadie, Noah - 12, Fiction: Group 3

y eyes wide open as I stared at possible areas for me and my work partner, Herschel. We just acquired business approval from the Pearl River Delta Financial Corporation. We shared an apartment in Hong Kong, had a game of heads and tails to see who would go to Shenzhen to

find a workplace for our pie making company: Nyan Apple Pie And Dessert. I saw a nice area near Langham Place with decent rental price. I pulled out my trusty iPhone 5C and called Herschel. “I found a nice place with good size. The rental price is reasonable.” He replied, “Sign the cheque!” I walked over to the payment counter, gave the cheque and the property owner said we’ll be notified within a week if we got the place. Me and Herschel decided to move to Hong Kong from California because we would have better financial support due to larger infrastructure. Also our friend Dimitry lives in the PRD, is a great financial advisor and could be good for our company. I walked to a bus stop to go home, reached my apartment building and rang the doorbell. Herschel answered. My pet Persian cat trotted up to me and said “Meow!”. “Hello Copper” “Hi!” He thought. “Hello, my name is Copper, I am the pet cat. I love eating fish. I like to talk to the houseplant on the windowsill. Call him Bob.” Copper thought again. That night I heard voices in the living room, Herschel was watching a video about pie crust making on a blue iPad. I’ve never seen a blue iPad! I knew that Herschel’s is black. I can’t find my iPhone!! I shouted He replied “Sorry dude, Copper sat on your iPhone on the table, he stood up and turned your phone INTO AN IPAD!!! Copper is slightly overweight. I actually thought his weight would flatten my phone into an iPad. I instantly started panicking and was about to scold the cat when Herschel burst into a fit of laughter. He stood up, pulled out my phone and handed it to me. “Can’t believe you fell for that!!! You thought that Copper sat on your phone and turned it into an iPad!” He removed the blue case over His iPad and replaced it with the original black one. He was still laughing hysterically while I walk back into my room to get a good night’s sleep. The next day the clerk called. We got the place could set up the next day. After I hung up Dimitry called, said he was coming over to join our business as a financial manager, and we’d meet at the Shenzhen International Airport, one of the largest in the Pearl River Delta. “Why didn’t you stop by at the one in Hong Kong?” I asked in confusion. “I like the one in Shenzhen, because it’s more familiar, I visit my family there,” he responded. Me and Herschel hurried to Hung Hom station to get express train tickets to the Shenzhen Airport. We got on, sat ourselves down on two window seats on the left side of the train. About three hours later the train stopped at the airport and there was an announcement. “Hello people of this train, you must obey only me.” The driver spoke in a creepy voice. “Please kindly form two lines on both sides of the train. Thank you for travelling on Cookiedo Railways. Have a pleasant day!” He said in a friendlier tone. We got off and went to the arrival hall. We saw Dimitry pushing two carts loaded with baggage. He finally reached us and we all got on the train back to Hong Kong and by 11:30 PM we’re back home. Herschel got into the kitchen and made us some chicken a La King but he replaced the sauce with mayonnaise and it tasted horrible! He also gave us some red velvet cupcakes but I lost my appetite after the main course nightmare. Dimitry decided to risk it and they were just ordinary cupcakes. Herschel was the king of pranking, he owns a YouPipe Channel about pranking people.

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Fiction: Group 3

That night I ordered furniture and ovens for our shop. At 8 AM the next day all of us (including Copper) went to our shop. We arrived at the same time the delivery people did. We helped them set everything up and finished by 12 PM. Dimitry put down a weird purple gemstone on the countertop. “Wow what is that?” I said in amazement. “It’s a magic gemstone I got as a kid. I found it on the road and kept it.” Suddenly the shop started to shake and a cookie jar fell off the countertop but was suspended in the air before it hit the ground. Copper jumped up and perched himself on a wall out of fear. The entire room went dark. I found myself and my friends in a large room lit by torches. A creepy stone door stood in a distance waiting to be opened. I walked to it and saw it had a triangular button. I pushed it, the door slowly swung open. Then came a large, heavily lit room. In the middle stood a small platform with a three square by three square puzzle. An unfinished bridge leading from the platform to another door was behind it. I walked to the puzzle and realised I had to put three symbols together, like a memory game. The tiles flipped themselves to reveal pictures of different shapes, then flipped back to their blank stage. I touched three squares which I remembered were the same icon. The bridge started building itself. I walked to the door and it swung open violently. I looked into the room and saw a man- shaped figure. We all walked up to it. It was five feet tall, with a long slender body and slender limbs. It only had three fingers a pure white face, was eyeless and had a closed mouth. Copper hissed and ran to the doorway. I looked to see where he went. I heard strange whispering, I turned around and saw the figure with an open mouth and was slowly walking towards the three of us. My mind told me that he resembled the train driver with the creepy voice. Herschel shouted “Oh goodness what’s that thing?!” We ran towards the door but it slammed shut. Now the creature was sprinting toward us. I raced at the area where it was standing, an LED flashlight was there. I stared in wonder why in the world there was an LED flashlight. I picked it up, ran toward the creature and shone the light onto its face. It jumped back howling. I shone the light on it longer and it crumbled to a pile of ash. The ash swirled around the floor and formed a sentence. “Thank you for defeating the curse of the Pearl River Delta, it has haunted the venues of new companies and has stopped them from earning money.” We all walked back to the doorway and there was a large glass case with Copper standing in front, it had a sign that read “Type the address of your new company, this glass case will teleport you there.” Trembling, I did as told, the glass case started rotating wildly. Everything glowed blue. I felt it shake and in thirty seconds we were in our shop. I began wondering how that structure was built, but I was happy we’re back where we should be. The cookie jar that fell and froze before it hit the ground was in its normal position now, undisturbed. Herschel went out to buy the ingredients for the pies we were going to sell tomorrow. Maybe coincidence but the Pearl River Delta Financial Corporation gave us 200,000 Hong Kong dollars to support our overhead costs. Maybe the curse was indeed lifted! I said to Dimitry “I think that gemstone transported us into a location isolated from the space time continuum that is why it is still the same time as when we whirled there. Did you notice that your watch froze?” “That makes a lot of sense. It felt like an hour.” Herschel came back with the ingredients for the pies and we started making them. I thought of how successful our business would become because of my secret recipe. I use three varieties of apples: Granny Smith, Royal Gala and Fuji. They signify the three major cities of the PRD: Hong Kong, Guangzhou and Shenzhen. The apple meeting the cinnamon sauce symbolises the Pearl River meeting the South China Sea. The next day we sold out all the pies we made that night. I knew that we’re going to be very successful and might even go global. I locked the door of our shop after our first day of business thinking “Now we do not have to worry about the curse,” walked away silently with my business partners ready for our second day of selling pies.

Fiction: Group 3

Cornston Street True Light Middle School of Hong Kong, Afina, Jasmine - 14, Fiction: Group 3

trolling down Cornston Street in Wan Chai in Hong Kong, Xavier Montgomery, CEO of the Turquoise Hotel Franchise, which specialized in boutique hotels, came across an old-looking Cha Chaan Teng. He looked through the welcoming open doors. The Cha Chaan Teng was small with a

cozy atmosphere. It had cream walls and tiles with round tables. In Hong Kong to visit an old friend and to find a location candidate for possibly a new boutique hotel to expand his business, he was hoping to find a Tong Lau and possibly refurbish it. He entered the Cha Chaan Teng expecting to learn a bit about the culture and the district.

Inside the Cha Chaan Teng were two customers. Both were old men. One was thin, wearing a baggy t-shirt and blue striped shorts, with thin eyebrows, small eyes and a sharp thin nose. The other was wearing a singlet and pajama pants. This one looked slightly larger than the other despite his small eyes; his nose was large and his cheeks were slightly sagging. They were sharing the same table. The skinnier old man was drinking tea. Xavier ordered a coffee and sat in the corner of the room, farthest from the noise, and turned to the page in Mitch Albom’s The Time Keeper which he was reading.

A while later, a Caucasian couple entered the Cha Chaan Teng. The woman and man both had short blonde hair, though the woman's hair was a bit longer. The man was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt and the woman was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. They both had large backpacks. They seemed to be tourists. They ordered a milk tea for both.

The couple sat close to the two old men and greeted them politely. They had a French accent. The old men greeted back politely.

"Hello, you two must be locals, right? Do you mind if we ask some questions about this street?" The woman said to initiate a conversation.

"Oh, yes! We don't mind. We're locals, both born and raised here. He's Li and I'm Fuk, so you can call us that. You can go on and ask questions," Fuk, the skinnier old man replied. Li, the old man sitting next to him nodded.

Xavier, although at the corner of the room, was relatively close to the couple and couldn't help but overhear their conversation.

* "My name is Elise and he is Alain. We're from France," the woman said.

"My friend, said a few years back, told me to visit the stores in this street, Cornston Street, I believe. He said there were a lot of stores and that there were many interesting and traditional things but I do not see much out there." The man looked out the window for a while and pointed. "We were tired after searching so we took a break, came in, and we also wanted to know if we are in the right street. You are locals so I thought you'd know if there are any stores," Alain finished saying.

"In the past we had so many traditional stores in Cornston Street. Now there are not as many. When did you say your friend told you about this?" Fuk asked.

"About 3 years ago, I suppose, but we had just remembered about it," Alain said and sipped a bit of his milk tea.

"Ah, you see, there was a project last two years in which the government decided to rebuild and turn the supposedly old residential buildings to high-rise buildings. Many people had to move and relocate to Kowloon and the New Territories and most also owned these traditional stores selling traditional clothes and foods. There were even more projects on the other streets. More and more people and residents had to leave," Li said. Fuk then drank a bit of his tea.

"What happened to the buildings?" asked Elise. "The buildings are now being renovated. They hope to turn them to new firms and malls. Things like the Times Square. They plan to eventually knock down the old ones and replace them with new ones. To make the problem worse, people want pretty things as well, like jewelry and handbags by brands such as Louis Vuitton. Don't you think that's crazy? So they intimidated some of the store owners and they decided to just give up," Fuk said.

S

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"Oh, but what did the old Cornston Street have that is much different from today?" Elise said and continued, "I have heard therewere traditional foods. I have also heard of traditional foods like the Pineapple Buns and Egg Tarts."

"There were Put Chai Ko—they were like sticky rice puddings; mini egg puffs, wife cake and others. When I was young, me and my friends would buy these snacks every time we had a gathering," Li said.

The couple nodded and continued to drink their milk tea, "So are you still working or have you retired?" Alain asked.

"We have retired. I used to be a watchmaker and he used to be a carpenter. We followed in our parents’ footsteps. My father was a watchmaker and his father was a carpenter," Fuk replied.

"We like to keep the heritage. We may be the last generation doing these kinds of jobs," Li said. "It is really disappointing to see that nobody is interested in activities like these anymore," Alain

said. "Exactly! The generation cares about the economy more than their own heritage. They are taking

away our homes and businesses. Our community as well! Me and my friends used to be very close, but now, because of the relocating, we live in different districts and have to travel on buses to visit each other instead of just walking next door. We are not as close and we do not see each other as often anymore," Fuk said with a sigh.

"I honestly don't understand how they are so heartless towards us," Li burst out. "We have contributed to society for so long but nobody seems to appreciate us."

"How about your families. How are they?" Elise asked. The two old men looked at each other for a while, "My wife passed away a few years ago and my

son is an accountant working in Central. We haven't been that close ever since her death, so I don't know much about his situation. I don't think he cares about the heritage as much as I do. He is currently working on a project about hotels, I believe. It is all very hard on me." Fuk said.

"Yes, it is. My wife is not coping with the situation very well. She used to own a store that sold fabric such as cotton and silk. It was actually really successful until we had to move and she was forced to close down the business." Li said.

“I'm so sorry. It's sad, isn't it? That they would rather build even more new buildings instead of preserve this heritage. I mean, as tourists, we love learning about heritage and about different cultures and people. It is the reason we visit these places," said Elise.

"It's a shame," said Alain. "I hope that people do think about us once in a while and about these people who live here and grew up here," Li said.

* At that moment, Xavier realized that he had finished his coffee and the last few pages of the book.

For he had already paid, he went out the restaurant and took a little stroll. Walking down the street, he started to notice the things he hadn’t before. There were buildings

from possibly before the Second World War and they were just slightly narrower than the high-rise apartment buildings just next door. These old buildings brought significance to this place. There were people sitting in front of these buildings with their old friends. They were smiling, laughing and talking while everyone else walking on this street had their heads bowed. There he was by himself in the street, noticing little things he never would have. He looked around, saw what was around him, and realized how what the people said inside the Cha Chaan Teng was true.

The CEO of the Turquoise Hotel Franchise walked along Cornston Street, lost in a mosaic of heritage, trying hard not to remember why he was there in the first place.

Fiction: Group 3

The Key to Success of a Factory True Light Middle School of Hong Kong, Mak, Terence - 14, Fiction: Group 3

Chapter 1

t was a sunny Friday morning, a new day with a new start and also new things to do. ‘Keith?’ called Mr. Lau, the supervisor. ‘Yes, sir? What can I help you?’ asked Keith Wong, who recently graduated with a degree in

journalism from the Real Light University in England. He joined an international news company called the WON News and now stationed in Hong Kong, his hometown. This was his first full-time job.

‘For your first job, I would like you to visit this factory compound named Kailuding Factory, which is in Shenzhen, and write a feature article about its success. Here is your train ticket.’

‘Okay, sir. I’ll do my best!’

Chapter 2 The boss of Kailuding Factory was called Chung You Qian, a millionaire. The reputation of his

factory is very high and everyone in China knows how good the quality its electronic products are. Mr. Chung met Keith in a conference room in the main office building. However, as Mr. Chung was

a busy man. He made it clear to Keith that he had no more than 25 minutes for this interview. ‘What do you think is key to the success of this factory?’ ‘Definitely our devoted staff.’ ‘How many staff members…’ And while they were doing the interview, a young man suddenly rushed into the room quickly. ‘Boss! It…it’s happened again! It’s happened again! This… This is the third time! We should try to

stop them!’ When the young man finally noticed Keith, his face turned pale. He made an eye contact with Mr. Chung and quickly walked to him then whispered something more next to Mr. Chung’s ear. After that, Mr. Chung suddenly stood up, and immediately left his office with that young man. The young man looked very worried but Mr. Chung seemed really angry. ‘Excuse me, may I know what’s going on? Or maybe may I follow you two?’ Keith stopped them from going away. ‘Hmm. Okay, you may come with us. These kinds of things aren’t uncommon here. There’s no need to be shocked,’ Mr. Chung said. ‘Erm, sir, I don’t think it’s a good idea,’ the young man interrupted. ‘Yes, Ho is right. You’re a journalist. Please stay here and enjoy the refreshments,’ Mr Chung replied politely. Mr. Chung and the young man Ho left and closed the door. Keith thought, I’m sure something interesting has happened just now! It will probably help me write the new article. I need to follow them. Chapter 3

Keith followed from the distance, looking around and taking some photos without the flash on. He followed Mr. Chung and Ho and left the main building through the backdoor. There were some old factory buildings. He thought, These old wooden doors which keep making some squeaking sounds, and those steel props lying on the ground are really rusty. This section is so different from the main office building. Oh my goodness! Are those nets that wrap the buildings? Oh dear! I must take a few more photos! Keith continued following. Mr. Chung and Ho arrived at a place outside a factory building where a group of factory workers were standing in a circle. When the workers saw the boss they quickly stood aside. What Keith saw was a dead woman lying on the asphalt with a lot of blood surrounding her; her position was strange, and it seemed that her bones had broken. As a journalist, Keith tried to figure out what happened. He started asking himself questions and made a summary in his mind, Well, the situation now is that someone has died from falling, but it doesn’t seem that the police has been called. And Mr. Chung said these kinds of things aren’t uncommon…

I

Fiction: Group 3

Mr. Chung and Ho were discussing. Keith took more photos. Then, he went to interview a few workers there discreetly at the corner of the building where there were fewer people. He wanted to know why the Mr. Chung said this was common.

A worker in her 40s said in a soft voice, ’Oh... But do not talk too loud. Mr. Chung does not like us talking about this topic. Yes, these things are common. As you can see, the environment here is really bad. We always need to work for sixteen hours per day. Not everyone can take this, especially some of the new ones here who are still teenagers. But they need to take care of their poor family who can’t afford them to go to school so they must work here. Their young souls can’t take this much.’

‘The food here is also terrible. It tastes like mud. And the living quarters are filthy. So when some workers like Ah Mei can’t take this all anymore, they will find ways to end their lives.’ Another middle-aged worker joined in. ‘Yes, you are right. You know, young man, the boss is super rich. So even if the police finds out someone has committed suicide, they won’t look into the case.’ ‘By the way… Did you say the girl there is called Ah Mei?’

‘Yes. She was 16 years old only. But she needed to take care of her sick mother and the four brothers and sisters. The worst thing was that his father died two months ago. So she needed to work and take care the whole family herself.’ Keith was shocked. He learnt that this factory was a sweatshop. While Mr. Chung was still telling the workers what to do with the bloody body, Ho spotted Keith speaking with some workers. He quickly ran over and urged Keith to quickly return to the conference room. Keith pulled Ho aside and asked him why no police or ambulance crew had been called. Ho started shivering and said, ‘I’m afraid… I am a coward… I have a family… I cannot lose my job. My family depends on me…’ Then he started to cry.

‘What a pity…do you mind telling me more? I must write this down and report it so that everyone in Hong Kong or even the world can know more about things like this.’ Ho immediately knelt down before him, ‘No! No! Please don’t do that. I will lose my job!’ ‘Than what can I do for you?’ ‘Just pretend nothing had happened. You saw nothing, okay? Just quickly go back to the conference room in the main building. If you really have to write about our factory, please don’t talk about the suicide case you saw. I beg you!’ Chapter 4

When Keith returned to Hong Kong, he struggled for a long time whether he should write about everything he saw at Kailuding Factory. He discussed with Mr. Lau,

‘Sir, I do not want to betray Ho. But this is about human lives. What should I do? I hope you can help me make the right decision.’

‘This case might be too heavy for you. Maybe I will ask another journalist to write the feature article.’ ‘Sir, so will the case be reported?’ Keith asked. ‘I will need to speak to Mr. Chung myself first. I’ll give you another task to work on in a moment,’

Mr. Lau replied. ‘Sir, but, as journalists…’ Mr. Lau returned to his work and Keith walked out of his supervisor’s

office, with images he saw at the factory flashing before his eyes.

Fiction: Group 3

The Treasure in the Pearl River Delta TWGHs S C Gaw Memorial College, Chan, Ho - 15, Fiction: Group 3

n the 21st century, although the technology is very advanced there are many legends that have not been proven as to their authenticity. For example, one particular legend states that there is a huge monster living in the Pearl River which eats humans ….”

“Wait; does a river monster exist just like you say? I don’t think so. It is unrealistic,” Peter asserted. “It is just a story that I have imagined in my idle time and one that I don’t treat as a real story, so why be so serious about it?” John questioned Peter. “Of course! The monster that is living in the Pearl River is just a story. If it is real, I think it is just a disaster and we will have to find another place to live since we are living in the Pearl River Delta. Well, I also heard a story about the Pearl River when I was 6 years old,” Peter said. “What is the story about?” asked John. “The story is about the Pearl River Delta having a very valuable treasure and if anyone finds out what the treasure is that person will be very happy,” Peter said. “What is the treasure? It sounds great and I think we can find it.” “The story does not say what the treasure is, but I think it is a jewel or something beyond our thinking.” “It sounds very good. Would you use your holiday to find the treasure?” “Sure!” A week later, Peter and John began their trip along the Pearl River Delta without any clue about the treasure. They arrived in a town in the Pearl River Delta (Guangzhou) eager for some clues about it. “Excuse me, do you have any clue about the treasure in the Pearl River Delta?” Peter and John asked. “No, I have never heard anything about the treasure,” answered a passer-by. “Excuse me, would you know anything about the treasure in the Pearl River Delta?” Peter and John asked again. “What? A treasure? Are you kidding? I think the Pearl River Delta doesn’t have any treasure,” answered another passer-by. “John, should we give up? I think the Pearl River Delta doesn’t have any treasure so I think we are wasting our time,” Peter said. “Well, I agree with your view; maybe it is just a story,” John replied. While John and Peter were on their way back to the city of Guangzhou, an elderly man said, “Young man, are you looking for the treasure in the Pearl River Delta?” “Yes, we’re looking for the treasure in the Pearl River Delta. Do you know anything about it?” Peter and John answered. “Of course! Let us talk about it in my house,” the elderly man answered slowly. Then Peter and John followed the elderly man into a classic wooden house. “Please sit there,” the elderly man said and pointed to the chairs near the dining table. “Thank you,” John and Peter replied before sitting on the chairs. “Want to drink anything?” the elderly man asked. “No thanks,” John and Peter chorused. “Can you tell us something about the treasure in the Pearl River Delta? Oh, sorry I almost forget to do my self-introduction. My name is Peter,” Peter said politely. “How do you do? My name is John,” John said anxiously. “Relax, don’t be so anxious. I am not a villain. My name is Paul and you can call me Mr. Paul,” the elderly man said slowly with a warm smile. “Mr Paul, can you tell us anything about the treasure? We want to know if there exists a treasure in the Pearl River Delta,” Peter inquired. “Yes, there is a treasure in this Pearl River Delta. When I was a child, my father told me that in the Pearl River Delta there was a treasure, but when I tried to ask what the treasure was, my father just said that I

“I

Fiction: Group 3

could find out more about it when I grew to be an old man. I felt confused because I didn’t understand what he said at that time and even now I still wonder about it. Maybe you can find out what the treasure is,” suggested Mr. Paul. “You can find the treasure now but couldn’t find it in the past; what does that mean? Paul, do you know? ”John replied. “I have no idea, Mr. Paul. Do you know where the treasure is?” Peter asked. “Yes, I know. Our town is near a small river and my father said I can find the answer near the river when I am old .In other words, I can find it nowadays.” “Then why did you say you can’t find the treasure?” Peter asked. “I’ve searched many times near the river but to no avail. I wondered if my father cheated me but I am now convinced that he was telling the truth,” Mr. Paul replied. “Can you take us to the nearby river area? We want to go to that place regardless if we can or cannot find the treasure,” John asked. “Of course. Let’s go!” Mr. Paul said without a second of hesitation. So Peter, John and Mr. Paul walked along the road towards the river. “It has changed a lot,” Mr. Paul said and sighed. “What do you mean?” Peter asked. “When I was young, I could see a lot of green plants in this town, but now all the plants have changed into buildings,” Mr. Paul replied. “I see,” John said After 15 minutes, they arrived at the area near the river. The river water was transparently crystal-clear and the river was surrounded by pebbles and stones. “We have arrived at our destination,” Mr. Paul said. “It is so beautiful here!” Peter and John exclaimed. “Of course! Here is the most natural place in this town as all the other beautiful places have been replaced by buildings,” Mr. Paul sighed. “Don’t be so negative, at least the Pearl River Delta has become more prosperous, hasn’t it?” Peter volunteered. “Yes, you are right,” Mr. Paul said. “Let’s search the treasure!” John said excitedly. Then Peter and John started to look for the treasure, but without success. “We have searched for an hour but we can’t find anything,” John said. “Yes, you are right. Oh, it is noon. Sorry Mr. Paul, we have wasted your precious time.” Peter looked at his watch and apologised to Mr. Paul. “It’s ok. I live alone and I often feel bored. I want to thank you for bringing me a lot of happiness because I have relived the experience of my youth when I searched for the treasure,” Mr Paul reassured them. “I think we should have lunch. Good-bye Mr. Paul,” John said. “Goodbye Mr. Paul,” Peter said. “Good-bye, you two young men,” Mr. Paul said. Peter and John found a restaurant for lunch and during lunch, Peter asked John: “Do you want to go to that place to find out the truth of the treasure after lunch?” “Of course!” John answered enthusiastically. So, they went back to the river and searched for the treasure after lunch and they continued searching for the treasure near the river until seven p.m. At that time, the river reflected the light from the buildings, and it made a beautiful scene. “Paul, I think it is very late. Shall we go back home?” John asked. “I agree with you, but we still haven’t found any treasure,” Peter said. “Maybe the treasure does not exist at all,” suggested John. “Maybe you are right but I want to stay here for five more minutes as I want to look at the beautiful scenery for a while,” Peter said. “I agree with you; it is such a beautiful sight. Maybe prosperity is the most beautiful and valuable thing in the Pearl River Delta,” John said. Soon after, Peter and John started for home.

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“We finally cannot find the treasure and it is such a pity,” John lamented. “No, we finally found the treasure so it is not a pity,” Peter said. “Are you kidding? We couldn’t find anything,” John protested. “Actually, prosperity is the biggest and most valuable treasure in the Pearl River Delta. Since the Delta is prosperous, we can live here happily,” Peter said. “Why did Mr. Paul say he couldn’t find the treasure when he was young?” John asked. “It is because thirty to forty years before now, the Pearl River Delta had not become prosperous so Mr. Paul couldn’t find it when he was young. That’s why Mr. Paul’s father told Mr. Paul he could find the treasure near that river when he was old, I think most probably Mr. Paul’s Father wanted Mr. Paul to see the beautiful scenery as he believed that prosperity is the treasure of the Pearl River Delta,” Peter explained. “This treasure is very valuable and not easy to get so we must cherish this ‘valuable treasure’,” John concluded.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tale of the Pearl River Delta TWGHs S C Gaw Memorial College, Hau, Kwan Kwan - 15, Fiction: Group 3

I am Edwin, a nineteen-year-old university student living in a city in the Pearl River Delta, Guangzhou. But my life has suddenly and dramatically changed after two strange men brought me to an unfamiliar building. A day has passed, and now it seems I am the manager of a haunted house? No, a restaurant seems to be a haunted house. How has a restaurant been transformed into a haunted house? I cannot recall what happened. Yesterday, I…… ‘What? I have to manage the whole restaurant for two months? Why? I am not familiar with management!’ I am confused by this sudden change in my personal circumstances. ‘Do not question your new found status. You are ordered to save this restaurant and restore it to its former glory,’ said the owner with serious intent. However, a few days later, she flew to Canada on vacation. Therefore, I am bound to be here for at least two months as the manager of ‘Sparkle Restaurant’. I walked to the quiet of my office to absorb the change in my life’s direction. However, the next second, a beauty stopped right in front of me. ‘Good afternoon, I am your secretary, Amanda. This restaurant may close as the customer volume has declined and we need you to help us. I will give the information for you to understand this restaurant’s situation. If you have any questions, please ask me. I will be by your side,’ she assured me as removing a suit from her bag and handed me with a stack of documents. It included debt-creating flows and workers’ information etc. I examined it for three hours and I found that the restaurant was riddled with problems the most critical being the lack of customers. The restaurant looked shabby and unkempt, its workers were idle and the kitchen was dirty. I told my secretary to assemble all six workers and I announced: ‘I can't just stay observing anymore. Why is the restaurant so rundown? Why can’t we attract more guests? It seems that you haven’t been making a big enough effort to attract more customers.’ The staff complained in whispered tones. Undeterred, I attempted to placate them by saying: ‘I know that you dislike me but if you want me to quit this job, that decision is out of your hands. Follow my orders because I will perform a miracle very soon. Today this restaurant will be closed and all we have to do is renovate it, otherwise, you will receive a harsh punishment. Orders will be posted on the walls. My word is final.’ The staff had nothing to say as they absorbed the announcement. It was reasonable. Dan, a staff member, ran quickly to intercept me with his refutation. ‘Why do we have to temporarily close the restaurant? We have never closed it so suddenly and we will lose our integrity and our customers! Don’t you realize that?’ Dan remonstrated. ‘Yes, that’s right, but my resolve is to return the restaurant to its former glory. If we only close for a day, it will have little effect, Dan,’ I responded. The next day when I returned, I smiled with satisfaction at the work I’d done the day before. The scene before me was perfect. No haunted house, no dust but a restaurant with attractive decorations. All staff members wore uniforms and were serving guests at ten in the morning. Time had passed quickly but I remembered most of the staff’s names and could identify them. I recognised the tall girl, who was a waitress, as Helen. Everyone seems to like her because of her professionalism. She works faster than most of us but she has an irrational fear of men. If she sees a man she

Fiction: Group 3

is inclined to want to punch him. Her sister, Emma is a great support to her. Emma is friendly and is also proficient at calculations. The chef, Mr. Chan, cooks delicious food. From Amanda’s report, the situation before me has changed for the better. Mr Chan asked Amanda to check if there were any irregularities in the ingredients he was using and she had yet to respond to him. One of my duties is to supervise the chef’s ingredients. When Mr. Chan opened the refrigerator, he noticed that some ingredients were missing since the morning check. Who could be responsible? While pondering this mystery, a fat grey cat suddenly jumped down from the sink. It grabbed a fish with the swiftest of speeds. Ding! I knew he was the offender. I told Mr. Chan to either keep working or try and catch the cat. He stalked the cat and they both ended up on a step and he was amazed at what occurred next. ‘You are so annoying! It is just a fish,’ the cat spoke in a lazy voice while brushing its hair. I felt surprised that the cat could talk. ‘I don’t know who you are. Anyway, pay back the food you have taken and if you have no specific skills, stay here as a mascot,’ I ordered, before capturing it and welcoming it to its new home. Due to an increase in customers, I decided to make a promotion video. Amanda recommended a worker, Frank, to me and he said he was familiar with IT so I handed over the job to him. The next day he returned the completed video to me. Deserts, cowboys and strange aliens formed its background. The whole staff watched it with great acclaim saying it was fantastic. I endorsed their judgement wholeheartedly. Frank put the video on YouTube and it has been watched by thirty thousand people. How amazing it is! Today is the day I am supposed to leave I muse. I read Amanda’s e-mail with some perplexity. ‘Edwin! The senior executive is allowing us to continue our restaurant! We did it!’ Amanda exclaimed. When everyone heard the news, they jumped in approval as they chorused, ‘Yeah!’ I am pleased too. This is the first time I have ever been so proud of a project and so interested in my career. At the beginning of this job, the amount of work drove me crazy; but now, I am thrilled that we have saved this restaurant.’ I walked through the back door in silence. I reached home at sunset. My Mum said,’ Why are you here? Haven’t you been hired out for work?’ ‘Yes, but I resigned from it just now,’ I replied. ‘Why don’t you stay there? You are more spirited than you were before.’ I climbed the stairs to my room. I lay on my bed and reviewed my time in the restaurant. ‘Yes, I am more active and the atmosphere in the restaurant intoxicates me. I want to stay in the Sparkle Restaurant!!’ I said to myself. I dashed to the restaurant to find it deserted except for the staff, who, upon seeing me, individually took out a cracker, pulled it, and shouted, ‘Congratulations, Edwin! Welcome back.’ Tears slipped from my eyes. I was full of thanks for their dedication and support. I wiped my tears and told them: ‘I am here to be the manager until you guys are the best professional workers and our restaurant is number one in the city. Hence, I remain working in the restaurant as we ride the road to success.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta TWGHs S C Gaw Memorial College, Hui, Ka Yee - 15, Fiction: Group 3

ovely, run as fast as you can!' Bruce yelled out. In 3015, a new planet is born. Lovely is the princess of that planet. And, Bruce is her

guardian, someone who protects the princess. Lovely used to live with her parents. However, Lovely's parents were killed by some pirates, leaving her the only surviving member of her family. 'Are you ok? We need to go to another planet. Press the button.' Lovely pressed the button. Bruce looked at her and asked, 'What did you press? 'Start!' 'Are you sure?' Lovely looked over it and said quiveringly, 'Time...' 'What about your left hand?' 'Earth.' 'The aircraft is going to crash! Please get ready to escape!' 'What should I do? Bruce!' 'Pang!' 'Are you ok? Lovely?' Bruce asked. 'Yes!' 'Let's go out first.' They walked along the street, dressed oddly. The people on the street looked at them curiously. 'Who are they?' A person muttered through laughter. 'Bruce, what should I do? They...they laughed at me.' Lovely cried out. Lovely ran away. Bruce chased her. 'AH...SHHHHHH' 'It's bleeding...' Lovely whispered. When she raised her head, there was a girl next to her. 'Lovely, are you ok? Your legs are bleeding.' 'Bring her to my house first.' the girl said. 'Dad, a girl was hurt!' the girl shouted. 'Let me help you to dress... It's ok now!' 'Thanks a lot! 'Lovely said. After a period of no talking, Lovely felt that the atmosphere was tense. At that moment, a man came out and gave them two cups of water and said, 'Take a rest.' Bruce drank the water and asked, 'Who are you?' 'Ha! I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Carol and he is my father. How about you? ' 'My name is Lovely and he is my guardian, Bruce.' 'Where do you come from?' ' A planet. A new planet. And, I am the princess.' 'Oh...! Ah...' 'You are an alien,' Carol screamed. 'No! Absolutely not!' Lovely protested.

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While they were talking, Bruce said nothing. He just looked at the calendar on the wall. There were crosses from 1 to 29. On the top right hand corner of the calendar, “December” was written. At the bottom, “2014” was printed in black. 'Your Majesty, it is time to go home.' Bruce said. 'Our aircraft is broken...' Lovely murmured. 'Why don't you stay here?' 'Can I?' 'Sure.' At night, they all slept except Bruce. He borrowed Carol's laptop and searched: “STAR (planet)” but there was no record of it. 'Did I really come back to 2014?' Bruce wondered. It's time for breakfast!' Carol announced. Lovely woke up and got dressed but she looked sleepy. After eating breakfast, they had an idea... 'Do you want to go out?' 'Yes, we can go out and have a look.' How about you? Bruce?' Lovely asked. 'No, thanks. I need to repair the aircraft.' 'We will go out now. Dad, Bye!' They walked along the path, slowly. Lovely seemed very curious about the scenery. On her right, there were so many farmers planting crops on their farms. All greenish vegetables, different kinds of fruit and the livestock drew her closer to the farm. She picked up the fruit and ate it. Feeling happy, she smiled. She walked further and then turned to the left. On the other side, the view looked different. Commercial buildings and factories were built up. 'This is the difference between paradise and hell,’ Lovely murmured. Carol smiled. Because of her curiosity, she asked Carol, 'Why are the two places so extremely different?' 'As you know, we live in Guangzhou and it is one of the provinces in the Pearl River Delta. Over the past few years, the development in the Pearl River Delta has been rapid. The only way to develop the economy is to build more and more buildings and factories but they cause pollution.' 'Pollution?' 'The growth in the establishment of more industrial plants has resulted in an increase in the discharge of gases and pollutants and this has had an adverse effect on the surrounding neighbourhood. Lovely's face was expressionless. 'The...the fruit I ate was toxic...' 'No worries. It's safe.’ While they were having dinner, Dad asked Carol: 'Where did you go today?' To our village.' 'Uncle, may I borrow your laptop so that I can know more about the Pearl River Delta?' 'No problem.' After dinner, Carol and Lovely sat on the sofa and turned on the laptop. They typed in 'Pearl River Delta'. 'I don't know the Chinese word.' Lovely said. 'Guangdong can be divided into four climes, and one of the climes is the Pearl River Delta Region. Its climate is different from other places. Since the Pearl River Delta Region is a subtropical zone, it will be rainy in summer and it stays warm and wet in spring.' Carol mused. She went to her room, opened the cabinet and took out the box. She removed a piece of paper from it. It was a map. She examined it carefully before she drew a triangle on the map. The triangle contained Guangzhou, Shenzhen, Zhuhai, Dongguan, Zhongshan, Foshan, Huizhou, Jiangmen, Zhaoping, Hong Kong and Macau.

Fiction: Group 3

'What are you doing?' Lovely inquired. No response... 'Actually, this searching attracted me to go to each place and have a look, especially to Foshan and Hong Kong. Moreover, I want to know more about their culture which seem interesting. However, we don't have any money....' Carol mumbled. The next day, Lovely led Carol to a place. It was deserted except for Lovely and Carol. The northern wind blew over them. Lovely put her hands up and an odd light appeared in front of them. 'Let's go' 'Where?' 'Woo...That's amazing!' they screamed. 'Your power is wonderful.' Carol told Lovely. 'Where are we?' 'I think... this place is Foshan,' Lovely answered. 'In Foshan, Mount Xiqiao is a scenic spot. In total, there are 232 springs and 28 waterfalls includingYunyafeipu. The scenery is spectacular. Today, Mount Xiqiao can be divided into 10 major scenic spots. One of them is Nanghai Guanyin Culture Park which contains Guanyin and Baiyun Caves. Each year, they attract many visitors.' Carol said. 'Next place!' Lovely yelled. 'Wow...' 'Let me check...This place is Zhongshan, one of the places in the Pearl River Delta Region.' Lovely said. There were many shops and all the things near them were new. Finally, Lovely used her power to transport them to Hong Kong. Carol was impressed by this international city. They went to Causeway Bay by tram, an historic transport. The “Ding...Ding” sound made them sleepy. They also visited different places such as The Peak, Victoria Harbour, the Avenue of Stars, The Big Buddha...Finally, they went to Wong Tai Sin. 'Why did we come here?' asked Lovely. 'Don't you know? Visitors from other countries must go to Wong Tai Sin Temple. I have heard the people who lived in our village said this temple is a place where people come for luck, to find out more about the relationship between their family and friends, or to find love. They will pray to Wong Tai Sin, and they believe that the god blesses them.' Carol answered. Lovely and Carol bent over their body, picked up a bamboo cylinder, shook it three times, and an incense stick dropped out of it. This culture is called kou cim. The stick is used in exchange for a piece of paper, then the soothsayer will interpret the fortune on the paper. 'Oh gosh! What is the time now?' Lovely looked at her watch and said, 'Six thirty. We need to go home now.' When Lovely wanted to use her power, she felt dizzy but she didn’t care. They ran as fast as they could. Finally, they arrived home just before dinner. 'Lucky.' They laughed.

After dinner, Bruce and Lovely went to their room... 'Where did you go today?' Bruce questioned. 'I went to Foshan and Hong Kong with Carol. It's amazing....' Lovely answered happily. 'That's enough! Bruce smashed the door which they stayed in and he sat on the chair. 'Did you use your power today?' Bruce looked at her. 'NO…NO... 'Lovely answered. 'One more chance.' 'Am... Yes...' Lovely whispered.

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'How many times I have told you, don't use your power, particularly in another planet. It...it will weaken your life! Bruce cried. At this moment, Carol stood over the door, she burst into tears, slowly sat on the floor, leaned on the door. Bruce took a deep breath and said, 'That's enough, Lovely. I have repaired the aircraft. Tomorrow, we will go back to our homeland.' Lovely said nothing. The next morning, ten to six, they needed to go back to their homeland. When they embarked, Carol came out. Carol stopped in front of them, shouted, 'Lovely, thanks a lot.' She burst into tears. In the aircraft, Bruce walked to the library, opened the history book. On page13, 'Carol, born in 1996 and died in 2080' was written down...

Fiction: Group 3

Magic World TWGHs S C Gaw Memorial College, Lau, Shiu Hay Colin - 15, Fiction: Group 3

ake up! Justin, wake up!’ I was awakened from my beautiful dream. ‘What’re you doing Mum?’ I yelled, taking my clock. ‘It’s only……six o’clock!’

‘I’m sorry, but you see!’ She pointed out the window. I put on my glasses and looked. I was shocked. I saw the sea. ‘Why was there a sea on Sirius?’ I wondered. Sirius was a star in the Andromeda Galaxy. ‘Mum, why?’ I asked with a sense of trepidation. ‘I think we’ve crossed into space,’ she answered. Despite my fear, I was curious. Our house on Sirius was an automated house. But now, it was just an ordinary detached house with old furniture. When I opened the door, a stink filled my nose. While I was walking along the street, I saw a person who looked like my friend, Matthew. ‘Matthew, you have also crossed into space?’ I asked him curiously. ‘Who are you? Don’t be mad! How can I cross into space?’ he answered, walking away from me. My mind was full of questions: how can people look just like him? However, up to this moment, I still didn’t know where I was. I continued walking along the road and finally arrived downtown. There were many people mingling about. I saw a big banner, ‘New Pearl River Delta - New Life’, hanging on the exterior of a shopping mall. Therefore, I thought that the place was called Pearl River Delta. Suddenly, I saw something on the street. I took it back home. ‘Where have you been?’ asked my Mum. ‘I was just walking around the city and I have brought something back!’ ‘What is it?’ ‘I don’t know, it seems like a bill,’ I said, taking off my glasses and putting the bill under them. A while later, a hundred bills were copied by my glasses. ‘Mum! I think these will help us to tide over our economic problem,’ I said, as I gave the bills to my Mum. Several days later, I made a new friend. He was a nineteen-year-old teenager called Andrew. We always went out together. I told him about my experience in Sirius. In just a few days, we became bosom friends. I showed him the special function of my glasses. The glasses became an electro-sword, and then a speaking-gun, a bike that could change its size and a phoenix on fire. He was astonished to see those amazing ‘magic’ transformations and he wanted to learn more about them. Therefore, in the following months, I stayed in this strange city and discovered more and more strange things. The people who lived here had some bizarre habits. They ate food everyday but I did not have to as I could exist on a block of metal for a week. One day, something peculiar happened to me. At first, I wanted to go to a hardware store to buy some metal for lunch. Although the metal was disgusting, I purchased it. That was not important but after I had bought it, I saw an eccentric young man looking at me with an evil smile. I rubbed my eyes immediately. Eerily, he disappeared. That night, a dream showed me a message but I didn’t know whether it was a dream or a fact. A man told me to do something but I couldn’t remember exactly what it was. This time, I also ignored it. However, I always had this dream and each time I had it, more details were revealed to me than in the previous dream. But, I still didn’t know what it meant. One day, I found Andrew to play with me. H had been a student of ‘magic’. ‘What do we play now?’ he asked. I told him what had happened to me. ‘Don’t be worried! Sometimes you don't have to think about it too much as it will be revealed to you some time later,’ he said. That night, I also had this dream. ‘Boom!’ A sudden, big bang awoke me. Lots of houses were on fire. When I went out of my house, a big meteorite had crashed on our houses. Suddenly, my head ached. I remembered what I should do now. My job was to scout this place because this place contains lots of resources. My commander sent me here to search the area where the resources were. However, an error

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occurred during the transfer so my Mum had also been transferred here. Also, during the transfer, some of our memory was lost. ‘Mum! I remember it! I remember it!’ I ran back home and yelled. When I went back to my house, it was vacant. My Mum was missing. Meanwhile, a spacecraft was landing. I saw my commander walking out of it. ‘Justin, come here now!’ he said firmly. ‘Why didn’t you contact me? The superior said you had to go to the Electro-jail,’ he whispered to me. ‘Sorry sir, I’ve lost my memory,’ I answered. ‘I’ll try to interpret for you but now we need to destroy this place to get resources,’ he said. ‘No sir, they are only normal creatures. Please don’t hurt them!’ I said agitatedly. ‘What? Are you mad? They’re just an uncivilized species,’ he told me with astonishment. ‘I have a friend here and he is kind-hearted,’ I told him nervously. ‘I think you’re absolutely mad. You stay in the spacecraft until I come back,’ he ordered while pointing to the spacecraft directly. ‘No! No sir……’I asked him not to do it. ‘This is an order! Hey……you come here, please take good care of this gentleman going inside,’ he ordered the soldier. Fortunately, I had taught Andrew magic. When I was climbing inside the spacecraft, I used my glasses to send a message to Andrew. I was trapped in a private room. There was only a small skylight. In the meantime, the human fighter aircraft joined the war. Suddenly, a bird-man swooped down the skylight. He was Andrew! He broke through the glass and fell down at my side. ‘Come on Justin! Ride on me!’ he said. He carried me as we flew away together. He put me down in a safe place. ‘Thank you Andrew!’ ‘What should we do now?’ he asked. ‘I know the power supply is in the centre of the spacecraft. So we only need to destroy it. But the guard is strict,’ I told him helplessly. After a minute he said, ‘I have a plan. First, I stir up their awareness. You go inside and destroy it,’ he continued. ‘But you’re not strong enough to……, ‘I was shocked. ‘It’s Ok! I trust you!’ he interrupted me, with a look of trust. We put our plan into action. We went to the underbrush near the spacecraft. ‘Andrew, I will give my glasses to you and they can help you change the costume of the soldier for a short period. ‘Thanks!’ he whispered. Andrew succeeded in stirring up the soldiers’ awareness as I rushed inside the centre of the spacecraft. I cut off the nuclear power and the light turned off suddenly. I immediately left the aircraft with Andrew. I used my magic to burn the spacecraft. The war ended. However, the prosperous city in the Pearl River Delta became ruins in just one night. After this war, I hoped that the people from these two worlds could now live harmoniously. That morning, I used the space-machine to go back to my homeland. I ordered one hundred people to go to Earth to help them rebuild the city. From now on, we will be able to come and go between the two places more frequently. More importantly, Andrew and I became the leader of the Earth

and SIRIUS respectively.

Fiction: Group 3

New Tale of the Pearl River Delta TWGHs S C Gaw Memorial College, Lau, Chak - 15, Fiction: Group 3

he Pearl River Delta, located in southern China, is one of the country’s fastest developing and most dynamic regions. It is a melting pot of foreign influence and traditional Chinese culture. There is a fascinating tale from a long time ago about the Pearl River Delta region which explains why it is

such a wealthy region; the explanation being that this region was protected by a dragon which brought wealth, prosperity and healing to it. This tale began when the Dragon was patrolling along the Pearl River Delta a long time ago. He was a kind and genial dragon that always wanted to help the region’s poor people. One day, during his usual patrol in the human world, he chanced upon some poor people living along the Pearl River Delta and he soon decided he really wanted to help them. So, he split one of his scales and sprinkled its particles on each house. His scales could bring wealth and prosperity for a whole year to any place that received his scales. Therefore, everybody wanted to be blessed by him. At that time, a greedy, evil Taoist priest wanted to seize the Dragon and take all his magical scales. He looked for the dragon all over China and used his glasses which could see invisible beings (including the Dragon) to find the dragon. He was determined to never rest until he found the dragon. When the Dragon was sprinkling scales on people’s houses, the Taoist priest accidentally found the dragon flying over the top of people’s houses. The Dragon said sincerely, “I hope this family can have a better life!” Then, he fled to another house. The Taoist priest caught sight of him. He snickered and said: “Ha-ha! I have finally found you.” He followed the Dragon and noticed that the Dragon often stayed in the Pearl River Delta. The Taoist priest was determined to take this valuable opportunity to snatch his magical scales. In the evening, the Taoist priest was preparing his implements for catching the Dragon. He took his big net, arrows, bow and spear. “I must get you, Dragon!” he said determinedly. At night, the Dragon was still flying around. The Taoist priest saw the Dragon through his sorcerous glasses. “Help! Help! Please help me, Dragon!” the Taoist priest shouted. He pretended he was hurt. The Dragon heard him from a short distance away. “Someone is calling me. I must help him!” the Dragon exclaimed. Then, he fled at lightning speed and found the Taoist priest in agony on the ground and shouting: “Help! Help, dragon!” The Dragon quickly picked up one of his scales. However, the Taoist priest suddenly sprang up and shot an arrow towards the Dragon. The Dragon dodged it and shouted: “How dare you, man! Why do you want to kill me?” The Taoist priest shot another arrow and answered, “Because I want your scales. I want to be rich forever!” The Dragon dodged it again and announced angrily: “You cannot be selfish. My power is used for helping people in need! I will not give any benefit to anyone who is rapacious like you! ” Suddenly, the ground started glowing. Actually, the Taoist priest had set a magic circle on the ground to trap the Dragon. Now, the Dragon was no longer invisible .The Taoist priest chortled and said: “Ha-ha-ha! You cannot go anywhere now. You will be my slave and bring wealth to me!” “You are vile! You will be punished by divine retribution!” the Dragon exclaimed furiously. The Taoist priest cast a net over the Dragon and the Dragon hit his head and passed out. The Taoist priest laughed evilly and said: “I have finally caught the Dragon! From now on, I can be a wealthy man forever! Ha-ha-ha!” He dragged the Dragon back to his house and locked the Dragon up in a metal case. The next morning, the dragon woke up feeling feeble discovering that he was locked up in a case and was bound by an iron chain. He could not get out of this locked case. He could remember what had happened last night and he was very angry. He called the Taoist priest who appeared in front of the case. “What’s the matter?” he asked. ”Let me out! Or you will be punished by the gods,” the Dragon declared. “Well, we will see!” the Taoist priest responded.

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The Taoist priest split one of his scales and magic turned the scale into gold sticks. The Taoist priest laughed and said, “That is what I’m talking about.” He took the gold and left the house. The Dragon called for help. Luckily, shortly afterwards, a passing farmer heard the voice. He said, “Someone is crying out for help in this house. I must investigate it.” He broke into the Taoist priest’s house which was empty except for the Dragon. The farmer rushed towards him and shouted, “Oh my god! It is the holy Dragon!” “Help me please!” the Dragon cried. “But how?” the farmer questioned. “The key is in that box on the table,” the Dragon said as he pointed his finger at the table. The farmer cracked open the box with his hoe. He quickly unlocked the case and the chain. The Dragon was free. The farmer and the Dragon hurriedly ran out of the house. However, at the same time, the Taoist priest was coming back home and he realized that a man and the Dragon were escaping. He immediately chased after them. “Stop!” the Taoist priest shouted. He began chanting incantations because he so desperately wanted to catch the dragon again. There was a translucent glowing case surrounding the Dragon. “Please, save me!” said the Dragon. “I’m going to look for help! Dragon!” shouted the farmer. The Taoist priest succeeded in capturing the Dragon and it was trapped in his case again. “I must kill you this time so that you will never ever leave me again!” the Taoist priest exclaimed. He pulled out his sword from its sheath. Suddenly, there was a clamor in the distance. Soon, a crowd was rushing towards the Taoist priest and he was frightened. He could vaguely see a crowd of people holding hoes and harrows. In fact, the farmer was leading the citizens to take revenge on the Taoist priest. The Taoist priest was immediately caught by them and the magical case also disappeared. The citizens were angry at the Taoist priest because of his cruel behavior and he was severely punished by them. The Dragon appreciated the support of the citizens very much. In order to thank them, he chose the Pearl River to be his incarnation. After that, the Pearl River Delta was protected by the Dragon and he would bring wealth and prosperity to the Pearl River Delta forever. Nowadays, people believe that is why the Pearl River Delta has become one of China’s fastest developing and most dynamic regions.

Fiction: Group 3

Her Journey through the Pearl River Delta West Island School, Kumar, Sarbani - 11, Fiction: Group 3

ai Nai! Tea’s ready!” Meili called out from the kitchen from their wooden house in a village in the middle of Spain. Meili was a 16 year old girl from Guangdong who moved to Spain with her Grandmother when she was 13. She had one sister, Meixi, who stayed in

Guangdong because of her job as an artist and her Mom and Dad had been murdered in the middle of the market in China. Meili had coffee brown hair, Sparkly black eyes and lips as pink as strawberries. “Thank you, dear. Come sit,” Her grandma said, “I have to talk to you about something important,” “Yes Nai Nai?” Meili’s features tensed and she became worried. “Meixi has fallen very sick and she needs help. I want you to try sneaking onto the cargo ship that goes to Guangdong this week.” “Oh no! But who’s going to take care of you?” Meili said. “It’s Okay, I’ll handle it. You just make sure you stay safe and that Meixi is fit and well.” “Ok Nai Nai. I’ll start packing” Right then, Meili knew what she had to do. ★★★★★★ “Take care! And come back safe!” Meili’s friend called out. It was early morning and the sun was rising up soon. It was the day meili was leaving “I will!” Meili’s friend, Alfonso, offered to help her by letting her ride in his carriage. Once she got there she headed towards the M.V bravery cargo. Maybe if I try and sneak into the cargo Meili thought. She saw a man about to lock up a container so she distracted him by throwing a rock at his back and quickly ran into the container. “Well Hi there!” “Ahhhh!” Meili thought she was the only one in the container, “Oh sorry I thought I was the only one in here, hi I’m Meili and I’m going to Guangdong. Well I’m trying to” “I’m Inez and I’m going there as well! My mom said to try and sneak in so I could go pick some papers from my Dad.” Inez had twinkling blue eyes and light brown hair with bubble-gum pink lips and skin as white as snow. “I’m going to my sister’s because she has fallen sick and I need to help her. She’s an artist. We’re too poor to afford a proper ticket” “Well, I hope she gets better!” Inez and Meili quietly waited until the container stopped moving around. “I think we’re on the ship!” Meili opened the door ever so slightly so she could peek outside. She saw many red and green cargo like the one she was in. “All clear” She whispered back “Let’s go!”

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They each put a foot outside, alert, and then moved forward. They quickly found out that everything was clear. “So I guess the security isn’t that great” Inez said with a smile. They wandered around the cargo area of the ship. The ship looked very old like it had been used for at least a few years. Then they heard a purr as if a cat was on board so they looked around a bit more, and then they saw it. ★★★★★★ A small blonde-orange cat with blue eyes stared back at them. “What’s a cat doing on board?”Meili questioned as the cat curled around her like a normal cat would do to its owner. “That’s no ordinary cat! That’s a female Ojos Azules, The name of this cat means blue eyes in Spanish and this breed is really rare!” Inez says. “Wow! You must love cats!” Meili said. “Yeah My Mom is a cat researcher. What do your parents do?” Inez questioned.

“My Mom and Dad don’t exist anymore. They’ve been murdered.” Meili said. “Oh I’m so sorry!” Inez slowly hugged her as she spoke. They suddenly heard a thud as loud as a thousand elephants stomping their feet. “Quick, hide!” Meili whisper-shouted and picked the cat up as they quickly hid behind another container. “Hello? Is anybody there?” a deep voice called out. “Whatever who would sneak in anyway?” ★★★★★★ “What should we name her?” Inez said, staring down at the cat. “Hmm… What about Amber?” Meili said Then they suddenly heard a loud crash noise and the whole ship shook. Meili and Inez stumbled towards the ground. “Quick Amber! Get in my backpack!” Meili said as she stuffed Amber in Gently. “What do we do?!” Inez shouted over the gushing water that was coming in “The ship is sinking!” “We need to get out of here! Look there’s a hole.” Meili pointed out. Together they dove into the Pearl River delta. ★★★★★★

Fiction: Group 3

Meili gasped as she lunged out of the water heart beating. She rummaged through her bag and soon found what she was looking for, the medicine her grandma had given her to give to Meixi. She also found Amber snuggled up in her coat but Inez was nowhere to be seen. “Inez?” Meili called out “Where are you?” Suddenly a head popped out of the water “Inez!” Meili helped Inez get onto land “Look!” Inez was pointing out to a huge dark figure sinking into the sea. “That must be the ship and all its cargo!” “Oh no! Those poor souls” Meili uttered. “Well we have to get going, we should try and find a place to stay before sundown.” Inez suggested “Yeah good point” Meili said They turned away from the wooden shipwreck and found a path which they followed with amber on their heels. “Hey look!” Meili pointed to a sign that said ‘Qing Li's Guesthouse’ They walked through the doors and a receptionist greeted them “Hello, how may I help you?” The receptionist asked. “We were wondering if you had any more rooms left.” Inez questioned. “I’m sorry but everything’s been booked out because of the Guangdong annual parade!” The receptionist informed Meili and Inez “The Guangdong parade? Well could we please sleep on the sofas or something?” Meili asked and the receptionist replied back with an eyebrow raise. “Okay…” The receptionist said. Inez opened up her backpack and took out some fish and gave it to amber. Then they laid down and as soon as their head hit the pillow they were in a sound sleep ★★★★★★ Meili was woken up by loud Chinese drumming and cheering. Looks like the parade has started Meili thought now it’s going to be even harder to find my sister. Inez woke up with a start, Hair shrivelled, face red and she was breathing heavily. “Are you ok?” Meili asked, concerned. “Yeah I’m fine. Just a bad dream” Inez calmed down a bit “Seems like the parade has started!” “Yeah! I’m going north since that’s where my sister lives. Please tell me you are too?” Meili Hoped she wouldn’t be alone walking north.

Fiction: Group 3

“Oh I’m walking south because my dad lives near there” Inez replied back sadly. “Well, I guess this is where we part ways.” Meili look down at amber and then said “Who’s going to take amber?” “You can take her, I already have too many cats” Inez laughed. “Ok Thanks!” Meili said Then they both went out the door, said their goodbyes and parted different ways. ★★★★★★ Meili weaved through the crowd until she found a sign that said “Lishui village”. Meixi lives in Lishui village so I should head that way! Meili thought. She walked down the path until she saw a graveyard to her right and a flower shop to her left. “Ni Hao! How may I help you?” The friendly shopkeeper greeted her. “Ni Hao! May I please buy a rose bouquet of flowers please? Oh and do you sell fish?” Meili asked politely. “Of course! And yes we do, actually” The shopkeeper answered. So Meili bought some food and flowers for Amber and herself. She carried down the path for what seemed liked forever. Then she came across a village. “Excuse me, but do you know the painter Meixi? I’m her sister. Do you know where I could find her?” Meili asked a villager that was carving metal. “Yes! Yes! She lives right around the corner” He pointed out to a lane that would wrap around the corner. “Thank you!” Meili waved good bye and carried down the lane. She found a door that stood out, mainly because there was a lot of painting on it. She knocked on the door. “Come in!” A voice called from inside. “Meixi! Nice to see you again! How are you feeling?” Meili greeted. “Meili! Come in! Come in! I actually pretty sick though.” Meixi informed. “Here’s some medicine” But as Meili was taking out the medicine a note slipped out “Huh?” She open the note to find her grandmother’s curly handwriting. “The note says I can stay! As long as I get a job” “Yay!” Meixi felt so excited she couldn’t keep it in. They jumped around the room until they got so tired they fell asleep.

Fiction: Group 3

Into the Shadows West Island School, Lee, Justin - 11, Fiction: Group 3

verybody wishes to start his or her life as a rather dramatic statement, as a coolant in an apoplectic man’s heart, or rather, as the old man in the skiff who couldn’t catch a fish in eighty-four days. No matter which option is chosen, nobody would start off as an aspiring businessman whose “magic

toys” investment just had gone horribly wrong. The magic toys were popular between many circus and magic shows, with special “guns” and pig blood sacs. Most sane people would opt to read a rather long and irrelevant description of life’s facts, rather than poring over one’s possible woes, and wringing his or her hair in anguish. Various people recommend a reasonable reader to read an awkwardly cuddly-warm story filled with unicorns, than to read a story of dismal and broken ceramics.

He smoothed out his coffee-stained shirt for the tenth time, wondering if the forked collar should be held at a particular angle, rather than comprehending the distinct plunge of his investment in a particular toy business in a particular area of the Pearl River Delta, which he, as a CEO should have been thinking. His business was facing the grim truth, the mere oblivion of the “seventh stage of business”, not unlike the seventh stage of man in Shakespeare’s classic poem “All the world’s a stage”.

His employees were overladen with labors, which caused many cases of panda-like black eye rings. His company’s stock price fell palpably below their avant-garde stock-broking competitors. He was facing a middle-age financial crisis at home, where much of it was due to the “happy hour beer rush” with high amounts of dashing to the supermarkets and six-packs of “Tsingtao”. He just needed the life, the condo on “affluent lane”. His reputation had to be spotless; he needed to be a figure on the stock market. Much of his little capital was spent on buying new, useless investments. The only thing that brought some light to his gloomy, dismal life was the shows.

The shows were out of the ordinary. They were magic and rather “circus-like” shows, with always somebody to perform the card tricks, making cards appear everywhere, with somebody to mind-read with the audience, but the most compelling one was the frightful stunt to finish it off. The stunt contained the most exotic ways of killing oneself, but the magician would appear from backstage, unharmed. The shows captivated swarms of people, thus it seemed like a favorable investment at the time. He knew nobody would be harmed in the daring stunts they performed, as they used many of the products of his recent “magic toys” investment. He had much trust in the reliability of the toys, as he had visited the factory that that made those products.

His family did not approve of the idea, as they were not exactly very affectionate for the idea of one to perform exotic stunts that involved much fire and bullets, even though the stuntman wouldn’t be harmed. He often went to the shows, as they were an escape from the highly active world of finance. They ate out frequently at a particular restaurant, and the restaurant always gave complimentary fortune cookies. That night, they ate out at that restaurant. They ordered various Southern Chinese delights, accompanied by a complimentary fortune cookie as a rather bland dessert.

The young, aspiring businessman cracked his misshapen cracker open. A minute slip of paper dropped out. He flipped it over carefully with his nimble fingers, and scrutinized the words on it. They usually were nonsensical and quite humorous, for example: “No monkeys move if you don’t light candles” or “You will be hungry in one hour today”. It told him to beware a dark corner in the more murky elements of life and leaving the city would be the cookie’s recommendation.

Of course, the young businessman wouldn’t put his business into a permanent coma, and leave to some stranded island crowded with coconuts and palm trees. He would just continue clicking and clacking at his long forsaken computer. He was a surfer of the waves of finance, prancing up and down his surfboard as if to catch the small spurts of money in a vast sea of uncertainty. Nonetheless, he continued his ludicrous search for loose change and trivial banknotes.

He departed to see the show once again. He marveled at the antics of the acrobats and the actors, the contortionists and the conjurers, and the audacious person who always appeared to be put to death onstage

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and abruptly reappearing from backstage. This night, a mediocre piano stool, with a silver Smith and Wesson magnum revolver, accompanied the assistant of the last stunt of the night, in which the assistant was to insert a polished metal slug into his acting partner’s forehead. The audience was itching with anticipation of the sharp cracks as the assistant releases an array of gunfire, and the stuntman as small blemishes of fresh blood begrime his crisp shirt.

The assistant led the stunt of the night by displaying all six .357 Magnum pellets and passing them around the audience. After a while of knocking the bullets on chairs and squeezing them as if to reveal their furtive sides, all the ammunition was returned to the assistant. The assistant slowly cocked the gun and aimed at the stuntman’s head. He released a single bullet, a silver spear through an inky black night.

The stuntman fell and the audience grew silent, some timid onlookers rapidly scrambling out of the hall. Abruptly, the stuntman reappeared out of the backstage, accompanied by all the performers that displayed their astounding artistry that night. They completed the show with a small man running across the stage, yanking the heavy red drapes, which happened to obstruct the audience’s view of whatever happens onstage.

The audience abandoned the hall rapidly, as the young businessman lingered for a moment. He needed the tranquility of the silent hall, just to take a moment to collect his thoughts. The hall grew quiet. Two men nimbly shot out of nowhere, carrying a gun and a coffin. They solemnly explained the truth to him, that they could just simply kill him, put him in the coffin and seal it up with concrete or he could follow them to the backstage, and face whatever happened behind the glamorous scenes and fancy costumes.

The two men led him out a side exit, towards a series of linked Volkswagen caravans, complete with full bedrooms and kitchens. Inside, around fifteen men that looked like carbon copies of the stuntman who performed that night sat at various spaces inside the complex. Various people treated them to achieve the exact same look as each other. They were treated with much respect, as if they were going to die in the stunt.

The number of stuntmen in the caravan decreased as every show came by. The young businessman-turned stuntman double witnessed the death of many other stuntmen. Their bodies were cremated and the ashes stored in classic funerary urns. The stuntmen sometimes were shot onstage, or occasionally a more exotic way. The number of stuntmen were getting smaller, it was nearly show time.

The wind whipped across the lone caravan trail, as rain started to patter on the caravans, its soft watery droplets forming splashes of mud. Water became tears; tears became the blood that was spilt on that forlorn stage. The stuntman before him was already shot. It was show time.

Everybody wishes to come out of a difficult situation, some rather glamorously, as the title page of a fashion magazine. Or rather, some people would rather opt for a more “aloof” method, as the old man who caught a king crab whilst everyone else was catching old grimy socks. Nonetheless, this story shall not state the adventures of this young man after that last sentence, not portray the “real” ending of this hopeless story. And to think that the young man would live happily ever after and eat cake in a lovely palace, actually would be much unnecessary and would receive much displeasure and recursive headaches. However, the story has to end here, and this tale shall bid adieu to this young man.

Fiction: Group 3

Amber's World West Island School, Rizvi, Haana - 11, Fiction: Group 3

y name is Amber. I live in Hong Kong. I am 11 years old, living in a family of four. Those people are my Mom, Dad, and 8 year old sister. We also have a dog, so it’s technically 5 members in the family. Her name is Softie, and she’s really cute. My sister’s name is Opal. We

fight sometimes, like all sisters, but at the end of the day, we love each other. I go to West Island School; it’s my first year there. I am British, by the way. My best friend is an Indian girl called Samira, and she is loads of fun. Anyway, back to the point. As I said before, I live in Hong Kong. And I have decided, to write, a journal entry, about a day in Hong Kong, and how I live. It’s going to be about a Saturday. So here we go.

I woke up nice and early, at 8:00, on a bright Saturday morning, in my cosy bedroom, in South Horizons. I decided to chill in bed for a bit, and read my new Jacqueline Wilson book. At about 8:15, I got out of bed, and got ready for the day. At 8:30, I was ready, and so were my parents, but not Opal. So I finished my breakfast, and went to her room. Opal is very keen on sleeping, so you have to use a special method of waking her up. So I shook her gently, opened the window, so she could hear the birds chirping And then I whispered, “Oh, Opal”, in a gentle and drifting voice. She blinked her eyes open, and I crept out of the room. At about 9:15, when everyone was ready, I asked Mom, if I could go to Samira’s. She said ok, but she told me to be home by 11:00, as we were going to Ocean Park. Samira lives in the building next to me, so I raced off.

At Samira’s, it wasn’t so fun as usual. She was quite excited to see me, because she got a Wii, so that kept us busy for about 30 minutes. But then, in the middle of when she was playing archery, she checked her watch and squealed. In the process, she dropped her controller. She grabbed my wrist, and took me to her bedroom window, and said that this was the time that the birds came. They arrived, fed the little ones, and flew off to get more food. Samira was using her binoculars, and camera at the same time, snapping pictures crazily. But the birds, I found quite boring, so eventually I said I had to go home, which was really true, because it was 10:55. So I ran back home. Mom hugged me, and told me to pack a bag for Ocean Park. So I packed my secret stash of snacks, my favourite pair of shorts, and a t-shirt, and a camera. I don’t like birds, but I love sea animals. I took my bag out of my room, jumped into my Converse sneakers, and ran downstairs to the carpark. Dad started the car, and we were off to Ocean Park!

The problem with Ocean Park is even if you come on Monday morning, you will still have trouble with finding a parking space. So we spent 10 minutes circling the carpark, looking for a space, until Opal finally found one in the corner. By now, it was 11:20. This because, South Horizons is a quick 5-10 minute drive from Ocean Park. So once we parked, we hopped out of the car, and flew to the escalators. Mum and I got our bags checked, and then finally, we were in Ocean Park! Opal and I raced around. Aquarium, dolphin show, pictures-flash, snap. Rollercoaster, toy shop, pictures- flash, snap. And then, we got to go to the other side. There are two sides in Ocean Park. One, is the Waterfront, and the one we were going to now, was called the Summit. There are two different ways to get to the Summit, as you can’t get there by walking. The first, is the Ocean Express. It’s a cute train, it looks like a submarine. And it always has a show about sea animals, so you don’t get bored. It takes about 3 minutes. We usually go by the Ocean Express, because it’s quick and efficient. And the second, is the cable cars. The cable cars take 17 minutes, but it’s worth it because of the beautiful view. It shows the division between the Pearl River Delta, and the sea. I wanted to particularly go by the cable cars today, because I had my camera. So instead of going to the Ocean Express station, we went to the cable cars port. We waited for ages, and then FINALLY it was our turn. I hopped inside, followed by Opal, and then our parents. Opal immediately fell asleep, which I thought was just typical. But then I got my camera ready. As soon as we approached the halfway mark, I started snapping photos. I became very focused, and got beautiful photos. It was a boiling spring day, and the sea was a deep green colour. But as soon as we reached the Summit, it started pouring with rain. As I had already got my photos, we this time decided to go by Ocean Express, because it looked like there was going to be a bad storm. But it seemed like everybody had the same idea. We anyway managed to squish up, and when we reached the Waterfront, we ran back to the carpark. In we went, into our cosy, chocolate chip cookie scented car. As we were driving out, we saw many tourist buses ready to leave, so we moved quickly towards the exit. So the Ocean Park trip was a bit of a bummer, but to make up for it, our parents said we

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could eat dinner wherever we wanted. I looked at Opal. She was giving me that look too. We had already chosen.

Dad zoomed through the city, the bright night lights ready to welcome summer soon. I snapped more pictures, and would take every red light as an opportunity. The rain was calming down now, but occasionally, there were still a few drizzles, and taps of rain on our window. We arrived soon enough, and the sun had set. We were in IFC. IFC is an amazing mall, and it has 3 floors, not including the parking floors. But above the mall floors, there are many floors, for working. Dad works in those floors. We walked around, seeing their latest display, which was a huge Easter bunny, standing with the basket, which was filled with chocolate eggs. Around it there were real people dressed in Easter bunnies, and chocolate eggs, giving out real chocolate eggs! I managed to collect 3, and Opal managed to collect 7! We walked over to Starbucks, which was where we were going to eat dinner. All there meals were tasty but as a family, we liked the spinach pie the best. I loved the crunchiness of the outside, and the juicy tenderness of the inside, and how they went so well together. We gobbled it up, and went back home. I wrote about all the details that happened today, and then switched off my light. And soon, all I could hear were the crashing waves, of the sea.

Fiction: Group 3

City of Glamour West Island School, Tang, Naomi - 13, Fiction: Group 3

1990

parted from my brother two thousand years ago. I remember that time very clearly, when we still clung together. They talk of him now in loud, boisterous voices, about his wealth, his fortune, and his opportunities. Those two-legged creatures even gave him a name - “Hong Kong”. My name has a

different meaning, though. They say a young lady once stepped onto my land and walked to the top of my hill, where she ascended to heaven immediately. There, they built a temple after her, and from the temple’s name "Ma Kok", came mine - Macau. A thousand years later, here I was. Above me, I could hear cries of a fishmonger standing by the seaport. “Fresh fish for just twenty escudos!”. “Ten!” an old lady shouted. They bargained loudly back and forth until they settled on a price. Now and then, by the port, a fishing boat bobbed up close to my shore, and muscular two-leggeds began unloading straw baskets. A smiling Portuguese man in sea-green uniform - a ‘policeman’, they called him - paced slowly in the corner of the lively market, his eyes alert. Watching, watching. He fixed his attention on a few hunched figures on the sidewalk. Their bodies were bent, and their bones were clearly visible underneath their skin. Passers-by barely gave them a glance before moving on. Children pointed rudely and screamed ‘beggars!’as they passed- which, I suppose, was what the ragged humans were called. A wailing toddler threw himself against his mother, beating his fists against her body. Another, no more than three years old, gurgled happily as he played with the policeman’s shoes. His name was Lin. And I wish I had paid him more attention then. A few meters down the street, his mother, a lady who was dressed in plain clothes and holding a basket, gossiped energetically with a plumper lady behind the stalls. They laughed and waved at each other as the plain-clothed lady walked back, picked up the shrieking toddler and headed home. 1995 Fear. Dread. Horror. These are the only three words that could describe that time. I was soaked with a red pigment that smothered my soil. Searing infernos ignited, their flame swallowing my trees and flowers. The two-leggeds had ruined my land and destroyed my ports. Those hateful, despicable humans! Greed had consumed them whole and spit them back heartless and soulless. Those very men I then witnessed smashing open bank safes and firing silver pellets into others who had done them no harm. There, was the same smiling Portuguese man in uniform of five years ago, defending the safe. His forehead was creased with lines of worry. I watched as they put a bullet into him. The toddler before had become a child of eight. He now roamed the streets with a firm friend in his grade, Henrique Feliz, whose father was one of the high ranking generals in Macau. During those turbulent times, abductions happened frequently. Cries of children dragged away from their parents could be heard on the streets. How I wish I could help them! Lin’s friends disappeared on the streets one after another, taken to be sold. But he and Henrique were one of lucky ones who got away. Two-

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leggeds roamed the street with gags and rope hidden in their pockets. School for them had become dangerous, and worried parents could always be seen during lunch hours to check on their children. I kept an eye on Lin as he hurried home, constantly glancing over his shoulder. This was the world the two-leggeds had created for themselves - a world with too much fear and greed and pain. He reached home safely and ran into the arms of his worried mother. “Lin!” she cried. “Thank goodness you’re not hurt!” Out of the window, they watched together as the police crumpled under the force of the menacing two-leggeds, one by one. 1999 Finally, my wait was over. I could be reunited with my brother, or so they told me. This was the year I would be handed over to the People’s Liberation Army by the Portuguese. One morning, I was roused by loud trumpet music ringing through the city centre. It stopped abruptly, and clapping filled the air. A flag, brilliant red and green in colour, was lowered and folded neatly, then passed to a Portuguese man. He held it to his chest and saluted. A bout of clapping rung out once again. Through the thick crowd of onlookers, I spotted Lin. He was standing beside his mother. Dark shadows beneath his eyes told of many sleepless nights. What was he worried about? Almost immediately after the ceremony ended, Lin rushed to the seaport, leaving his mother behind. Just ahead, Henrique was dragging several suitcases at once. His face was drawn and weary. “Get going, boy, move faster. And if you can, try not to be the worthless fool you are!” his father hollered at him. Henrique pretended to ignore him, but a pulsing vein in his temple was a telltale sign of masked rage. I finally understood Lin’s misery: Henrique was returning to Portugal. Two months later, I watched as a man staggered drunkenly out of what was known as a ‘gambling den’. He stumbled. A few intimidating two-leggeds sneered and spit in his direction, and the man limped faster. Were those the kinds of two-leggeds you meet in a gambling den? The man turned onto several streets and finally came to a door. I recognised that door! A few moments later, he collapsed against the door handle, just as a boy inside was opening it. “You’re home!” Lin burst out, his expression showing outright disgust at the man’s state. The ragged man must have been his father. Every day for the next five years, Lin’s father stepped into the crumbling den at dawn and returned home swollen-eyed at midnight. It was almost as if he were attracted to it like a moth to light. Lin’s mother begged him to stay at home, but he’d swear to earn back the money he had lost the day before. But of course, he never did. 2014 Another fifteen years have passed, and once again, here I am. For all these years, I have begun to realise that mankind - the race of the two-legged - are easily the worst race possible. I know I’ll never fully understand their ways, and how they deceive each other with their crooked plans, instead of living together in harmony. Do you remember Lin, the little toddler I watched grow up? Lin passed his graduation exam with flying colours, but was told the unhappy news that his father had gambled all their money away, with none to spare for the university fees. Refusing to make a living out of swindling money, Lin found work in a restaurant instead of a casino, even coming to own a successful diner. His mother enrolled his father into a gambling counselling centre, and now they live together. Unhappily, but peacefully.

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For fifteen years, Henrique had lived peacefully too, but he left Portugal the moment he could and returned to Macau. His father seethed with rage at his son’s decision, but nothing could be done; Henrique had set eyes on wealth and prosperity. He now works in the Sands as a manager, cheating wealthy tourists. Little does he know his childhood friend could be found at the other end of the very same street? Every day, I see all these things happen above me. I wish our world could be filled with more people like Lin, those who refused to take the twisted - yet profitable- path, and chose a bright one instead. Through the years, I saw how the two-legged have evolved - from being humble and honest farmers and fishermen into the tricksters many of them are today. Though much, much wealthier than before, it seems that they have become increasingly discontent with their lives: only wanting more and more and more.

Fiction: Group 3

The Greeks’ Interference Yan Oi Tong Tin Ka Ping Secondary School, Lui, Jackie - 14, Fiction: Group 3

still don’t get it.” Anya was careful to keep her face neutral. She had no idea what was going on. One minute she and Sapphyre were cornered by a silver-eyed girl and her band of girls in all sizes wearing a silver hunter’s uniform at the Victoria Harbour, and the next they were sitting on

a bench outside the South China Shopping Mall. Her geography wasn’t good, but she was pretty sure that the world’s largest shopping mall was miles away from Hong Kong. This was harder than Sapphyre thought. “Okay. I will explain again, and listen carefully. “I’m immortal. Greek mythology is real. The other myths aren’t, but Greek mythology is. That silver-eyed girl was Artemis, the virgin goddess of the moon, the hunt, childbirth and archery. “She’s one of the Olympians. Olympia existed a millennium ago. I was born there, made from the essence of the fourteen gods themselves, twelve of them being Olympians: Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Apollo, Hermes, Ares, Hestia, Artemis, Aphrodite etc. But I wasn’t alone; I had a sister; a twin. We worked together to protect Olympus. “One day, the gods—mainly Zeus--deemed us too powerful. He tried to kill us, but he only got my sister. I was lucky enough to escape in one piece. I saved her essence and released it into the mortal world, so she could be born as a mortal one day, and when the time is right, I would be able to change her back into an immortal. Each time she was turned into a mortal, I saw her and visited her. “And now Olympus is doomed. You remember Ashton, the guy who flirted with you at the café?” Anya was so busy absorbing the information that she didn’t realize she was talking to her until Sapphyre gave her a poke. “Yeah.” “He’s dangerous,” Sapphyre threw this out matter-of-factly. “He’s got the weapon to bring down Olympus, and in fact, he’s heading there right now to carry it out.” “Carry it out…” Anya was processing it as quickly as possible. “You want to go after him? Why are you telling me this?” Sapphyre looked pleased that she grasped the point so quickly. But then her expression turned blank. “No. We are going to go after him and stop him before it’s too late.” “But…why me? Why are we even doing this?” “Because, Anya. You’re the sister. My sister. I’ve been your best friend for so long, why would it surprise you that I’m your actual, full-blooded sister? We’re doing this because even though the Olympians are a pain, they will be better rulers than that arrogant imbecile.” There was silence between them for a moment. Anya didn’t know how to feel. Overjoyed? Shocked? What she was feeling, she realized, was…nothing. In fact, she mentally berated herself for not seeing it sooner. All those signs of Greek monsters and the familiarity with Sapphyre when they first met. She should’ve known. Finally, she felt her lips curl upwards. “Where are the Olympians now? Greece?” “No. The entrance to the city of Olympia, also known as Olympus, is in Hong Kong’s Big Buddha.” “What?!” Anya yelped. She’d been living on Lantau Island all her life. She suddenly felt like an idiot. Sapphyre smirked at her reaction. ”Don’t worry. Mortals and magical beings alike have trouble finding it.” “That made me feel so much better,” Anya replied sarcastically. “Come on,” Sapphyre jumped up and offered Anya her hand. “If we leave now, we can make it to the Buddha before Ashy does.” Anya glanced at Sapphyre’s hand warily. “What’s with…that?” “Teleportation,” she explained. “It’ll be over in a second, but we’ll be at the right foot of the Buddha.” Anya didn’t really have much of a choice. She took Sapphyre’s hand, and suddenly, she was standing in front of an enormous gleaming golden statue. Sapphyre cocked an eyebrow at her. “Now, do you know how to use your powers?” “Powers?” Anya felt stupid. “Powers,” Sapphyre confirmed. “I suppose I should give you a short lesson.” “That would be a good idea.”

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“Magic is all about imagination. We were born immortal, so naturally, we have a magical core inside us. If we lose it, we die. The core gives us the power to do anything that is within our imagination. The powers that the 14 gods gave us only strengthened a certain part of our cores. That’s why, for example, the element of water will come easier to you than the instinct to form a, let’s say, gun in your hand out of thin air.” “So the most important key is imagination,” Anya finished. “But that means anybody could do anything. Especially Ashton.” Sapphyre smirked. “You’d be surprised at how original Ashton can be. He’s a boy, and the first thing that comes into a boy’s mind are either cheeseburgers or milkshakes.” “Oh.” Anya looked up at the Buddha and tried to find the entrance. “Who told you the entrance is on the top?” Sapphyre asked, as if reading her mind. “Come on. We’ve got to get up to the left arm. Ascendio Leritso!” Before Anya could question her, the right foot of the Buddha in front of them rumbled and moved. Anya found herself staring into a tunnel. “Come on.” Sapphyre dragged her into the tunnel and lights flickered on. As soon as they were inside, the space behind them closed and she was left alone with her sister. They went up a staircase that seemed to go up from the Buddha’s right foot to its leg, then the waist, and to its left hand. Then, there was another flight of stairs going up its arm. Huffing and puffing, Anya didn’t have the time to admire the structure of the stones. Sapphyre looked at her knowingly. “It’s because you’re still mortal,” she reassured her. “Once this is over, you can climb a million steps and you won’t have to rest once.” They arrived at the shoulder of the Big Buddha. How ironic, Anya thought, that the Greek Gods resided at the symbol of Buddhism. “You can only go to Olympus through this,” Sapphyre told her, pointing to a big red button. “Normally, you wouldn’t even reach here, so…” That just made things better. As she glanced around her, Anya didn’t see Sapphyre press the button. Within a blink of the eye, she was looking at golden double doors. Looking at her surroundings, she was in a great hall with paintings of Greek myths. She heard the door open and she tore her eyes away from the paintings to find herself staring at fourteen faces. She recognized Artemis, the goddess who was hunting them down earlier. Artemis glared at the two girls, and they glared right back. Suddenly, it hit her. The memories locked away in her mind unlocked itself and she remembered everything that happened for the past millennia. She felt old. “So the two decided to surrender themselves, I see,” Zeus mused to himself. “Right indeed.” Ashton’s rumbling voice filled the air. The girls hadn’t even seen him. Sapphyre sensed that he had the weapon, and was prepared to strike. She concentrated and felt the rock, straight from the depths of Tartarus, materialize in her pocket and at the same time, Ashton felt it disappear. “You will be stripped of your immortality,” Zeus boomed, unaware of the magical transfer. “Any objections?” There were none. The gods began chanting and Sapphyre felt her energy drain from her. But she wasn’t going down easily. Even though the gods betrayed her again and again, she was still going to save them from their demise. Perhaps one day, the gods will come to their senses. “Anya,” she whispered. “Mi hermana. My sister. I’m giving you the important job. Get rid of Ashton, and make sure they see their mistakes.” Sapphyre took the stone out of her pocket. Outraged cries filled the room as the gods recognized it. She plunged it into the floor. Immediately, a pit leading straight down to Tartarus—or, she preferred, hell—while at the same time, bursts of dark, poisonous clouds and plants appeared and burst from sidewalks and buildings around the Pearl River Delta as the dark energy collided with nature. The stone tugged Sapphyre along with it as it fell down the pit. Just like that, the hole closed up. There was no sign of its short existence, aside from a small crack on the floor, which, as the gods found out in the future, brings a curse among the Pearl River Delta and its people, and most importantly, the gods—a reminder that a girl died because of them, that they should be grateful for the sacrifice, that the girl’s twin is still out there, rage-filled.

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Because of the blindness and the selfishness of the Olympians and Hades and Hestia, millions suffered. Because of it, the real culprit is still out there. Because of a rock, a region changed. Sapphyre really shouldn’t have moved to Hong Kong.

Fiction: Group 3

Gweilo Yew Chung International School - Secondary, Tsui, Yik Ching - 14, Fiction: Group 3

Chapter one

ctober 1941 12 year-old Jamie Kershaw was almost content were it not because of his father's new job. His father was a British medic on temporary leave from the army. However, taking holiday leaves

from the army of the biggest empire in the world, the empire on which the sun never sets, was not easy. They were transported from London to a British Crown Colony in the Far East called Hong Kong. Even there, his father was technically on active duty, so the King could call him to service at any time. Jamie had fuzzy memories of his past; his father was all he had left. Father had told stories of the past to him, about how Mother was from France and how they got together. "Knowledge is power and ignorance is bliss," Father repeated countless times. However contradicting it was, he was never able to fully understand it. After some time, Jamie started to admire Hong Kong's ferry pier as much as the iconic Star Ferry, which was definitely a star on its own, superior to London's aging paddle-steamers. The ferries and Chinese junks dominated the ‘fragrant harbour’. He lived on the mountain a bit removed from the city. Every day, he had to ride the peak tram to the outside world and back home. His house overlooked the mountains of the island and the pale white dots of the mainland. Jamie's new life routinely progressed. He met various locals, some in pyramid and cone straw hats and some in Chinese robes. There were yellow faces, yellow baskets; yellow everything. Chinese signs, big and small, hung along the streets and silk banners were waved around. People crossed the streets after waiting for the cars to pass, while hooded rickshaws were manned and passengers carried around. But the strangest of all was that he heard them talking about the foreigners, including him, and pointing fingers towards him, muttering comments in their dialect. Wherever he tread, he formed an invisible circle where no-one would walk in, as if the crowd was avoiding him. Sometimes, parents or maids grabbed their children and carried them away when he came too close, or the children instinctually ran away upon first sight of him. The word they kept using was ‘Gweilo.’ Jamie had no idea what that meant. Chapter two 15 November 1941 Long ago, Jamie was brought to the hospital once, and only once, by his father. Upon entering, while looking at a room full of wounded veterans, his father said, “Look at all those suffering soldiers. No matter if they are ours or the enemy's, we should help them. That's why I became a doctor.” His father arrived home from his brief desk job in the Royal Hong Kong Regiment, interrupting Jamie’s reminiscence. He was a blond, clean-looking man who briefly served in the Royal army before becoming a medic. "Things haven’t been very good in the last few days," "What's happening?" He looked away uncomfortably and scratched his head, "Well, Japan took Guangdong last year ... and our watchmen observed more and more mobilising at the Chinese border." "So Japan wants Hong Kong?" "Seems believable, we don't have many soldiers." "Why won't Britain send more?" Jamie questioned "We -they- are already at war with Germany, and they need the best equipment in Europe," Father added, "This place isn't a huge priority for them." Jamie's diary 28 November, 1941

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Today, and for the past few weeks, I’ve been giving myself some freedom to explore the crowded city, so I have been walking around Queen's Road, with a guide to follow me wherever I go. He also pays all our transportation fees. Today, upon arriving at the tram station I went into a bakery shop. There was a young Chinese who would frequently attempt to communicate with me, this time asking me if I'm ‘from English’. I corrected him by telling him that I’m from England. He introduced himself as Michael, after which I sincerely complimented him on his surprisingly good English, because he went to a British school. Then he asked me if I'm going good in Hong Kong. I replied that I’m still trying to understand everything around me, including some of the language. Then I mentioned 'this word that people keep using for people like me'. Michael’s ears perked up at this,

“Oh! Gweilo?” He explained that it was a Chinese term and that it meant ‘ghost man.’ 'Ghost?' 'You look whiter than us, like a ghost.' Chapter three 8 December 1941 Jamie woke up in a shock. Father was shaking him up, yelling something to him. His hair looked messy and his face as shocked and confused as Jamie felt. "I need to go!" Jamie heard Father say, "There's something going on." "What?" Jamie said in confusion again. Father pulled him upright and said to him, "The Japanese are coming. There's nothing to worry about. Just keep safe and don't go anywhere, okay?" Jamie could only nod. Father ruffled his head and went away, collecting things. When Jamie went downstairs, his father was already fully dressed, fumbling nervously with his belt. "I will be back, promise," he said. "When are you coming back?" Jamie asked. Father hesitated a bit, "Tonight, if I can." Then he was gone, through the door to the horrors of war. Jamie quickly went outside and headed down the hill, contrary to his father's order. He rushed through Queen's Road towards the bakery where Michael hopefully was. The shop itself was closed, but Jamie ran to the side and went upstairs to where the actual residential flats were and pounded on the door. A minute later Michael opened the door. "Why are you up so early?" Michael blinked and Jamie explained everything. "Really?" Michael said nervously, “But they're too-" a distant explosion interrupted him and then grave silence followed. Chapter 4 10 December 1941 Jamie’s father came home every night as promised. After avoiding the topic several nights in a row, Jamie finally asked the burning question. “How is the army doing?" "Not good," he replied, wiping sweat from his brow, "Lots of casualties on our side. However, we aren't sure how much damage we’ve done back at them. We're all on the defensive anyway." "Will you be assigned to fight?" he asked. "No. Probably never. The army values doctors," he said, "because we actually care about our species. Soldiers are trained to take lives; doctors save them." "Soldiers could just be following an order to fight," Jamie said, "doctors follow their hearts to heal." "That's exactly what the differences are, my son," Father ruffled his hair again. "Wait, what's the actual progress in the battle?" Jamie asked again "Well, we're losing the Gin Drinker's Line. We're planning a general evacuation to the island tomorrow," Father said. "We're on the losing side." Father just shook his head again; his sad eyes gazed towards the north, where the battle still raged.

Fiction: Group 3

Jamie’s diary 20 December 1941 Just a few days back they began evacuation to the island. The Japanese bombings came closer as days went by. Father came home less frequently. However, I still don't know what exactly is happening out there. To everyone I asked, they were simply too scared or just uttered, “Japan.” Long ago back in London, Father told me that “curiosity kills the cat,” warning me that sometimes, a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. But I think it hardly matters now. I've lived in London with my friend during the Battle of Britain last year, which we won. I need to know what's going on in this war. Why does Japan want Hong Kong anyway? Why? Why must we all suffer the fate of war, the fragments of brutality, and live in these nightmares of cruelty? I was born in London. These people, the Chinese locals, are born here in Hong Kong. But they are still human. Even though they call us Gweilo, even though they call us ghost people, they share the same feelings too, right? Appearance shouldn't matter. I asked those questions to Father, who was leaving for the darkness once again. Father explained that Japan wants land. And for that, Japan needs resources. They have no natural sources, so they steal from others. I was about to say something but Father read my mind and said that Hong Kong's neighbours have a lot of resources. Japan is just trespassing. Father started to walk away towards the dawn sky, which was now tinted blood red. I asked where he was going, and he said he was going outside to the hospital. But it's the crack of dawn! He said it doesn't matter, similar to me. He's living up to his faith. I didn't say anything more. The truth dawned on me. Soldiers fight battles for their fatherland. Doctors heal people for faith. Empires wage wars for power. For better or worse, this is the world we live in, and we must make do with what we have.

Fiction: Group 3

The Rushing of the River Yew Chung International School - Secondary, Yuan, Lynn - 11, Fiction: Group 3

swallow soars gracefully across the beautiful morning sky. The birds are singing, the sky a crystal blue. It lands on a nearby willow tree, showing off its beautiful plumage. The Pearl River is alive as ever, water rushing on top of the rocks. Small fishing boats drifted on the river. The swallow turns

its attention to the nearby village. The people have already started their day. Some were in the fields, taking care of the plants. Others were in their houses, preparing breakfast. In one particular house, a young girl, no more than 12 years old, handed a bowl of medicine to her ill father.

“Drink this, father. It will make you feel better.”

“Thank you, Rei.” Rei’s father smiled weakly. His milky brown eyes stared up to hers. Rei had been up all night boiling the medicine. The shaman of the village, a young man in his thirties, had suggested making the medicine two times a week, but the medicine only seemed to make her father worse. Tonight, she decided, I will go visit the elders of the tribe.

After she fed her father the medicine and fixed herself breakfast, she went by the stream to wash her face. She always liked to listen to the rushing of the river. Sometimes, it’s fast and alive while other times it’s gradual and calm. She bent down and stared at her reflection. Bags rested underneath her deep brown eyes. Her usually sleek and wavy ash brown hair was matted and scraggly. She cupped some water with her hands and brought it up to her face. She then wiped her face with her sleeve and went to work in the fields.

Around noon, Rei went to check on her father. She opened the door to the house and tiptoed

inside. She saw her father lying on his bed, looking as pale as ever. Her father sighed as Rei sat down on a chair by her father’s bed.

“How are you, father?” She asked worriedly.

“Sick, and I guess quite green.” His father chuckled.

A moment of silence occurred.

“You should probably be going, now. Lunch is almost over.” Rei’s father told her.

“I guess. Well, I’ll see you later.” Rei said as she gathered her things and walked outside.

“Wait,” Rei turned around. “I just wanted to say,” Her father stammered “That your mother would’ve been proud.” Rei was surprised. Her father never liked mentioning Mingli, who was her mother. Mingli, just after Rei was born, had headed into the mountains to collect some berries and disappeared. “Th-Thanks.” She said lamely, and quickly walked outside.

Rei worked under the afternoon sun. Her friend Lin chatted with her while they worked. Before she knew it, it was time to go home.

“See you tomorrow.” Rei waved.

“See you!” Lin replied.

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Fiction: Group 3

After she went home and had dinner with her father, Rei headed towards the elder’s house. Some other tribe members were also seeking help from the elders and there was a line at the door. The elders believed that each person should have privacy when they needed help. After a while, it was finally her turn. She walked into the house and sat down in the empty chair. The elders were silent, waiting for her to speak. “Well, hello,” She said awkwardly, “My name is Rei. My father is terribly ill at the moment and he has been for many months now, so I was getting worried and decided that I will come see you elders.” “Did you see the shaman yet?” inquired a frail and aged man.

“Yes, but even he suggested that I should come see you.” Rei said.

There was a moment of silence. “He coughs if he laughs, often with blood and always has a low fever. He is also getting constant

ear infections and sometimes his eyelid will start to twitch. Do you possibly know what this means?”

“I was hoping my suspicions were not true.” Said the pale chief elder. “But the Jakarta virus is gone, is it not?” queried one of the elders. “Apparently not.” Rei paled as well. “I thought it was gone before I was born?” No one answered. “To save your father, you must hike to the top of the Pearl Mountain and pluck a petal of the Fire Lily.” The chief elder told her, “It will be a dangerous journey, a very dangerous one indeed, but you must.” Rei woke up at dawn the next morning. She packed a small bag and tiptoed to her father’s room. She found a piece of paper and wrote: Father, I’ll be gone for a while. Don’t worry about me. Rei She then left the house, and started her journey to find the legendary flower. Rei approached the Dong Jiang. It was particularly alive that day, humming an upbeat tune. She hopped to the other side and began to follow the river towards the mountain. As the sun got to the highest point of the day, she settled under the shade of a willow tree to take a break and have lunch. As she chomped hungrily on a bun, she noticed a swallow gliding in the sky. It landed nearby, chirping happily under the morning sun. She smiled as the carefree little bird hop from branch to branch, and then flew away. If only life was that simple. She sighed as she got back up and continued the journey up the mountain. By the time dusk came, Rei felt so tired that she thought she would collapse on the spot. She found an appropriate area to camp in for the night and started to cook up some dinner. After a decent dinner, She went to sleep. “Come on,” A woman chuckled, “You can do it, just one more step!”

Fiction: Group 3

Rei tentatively took a step forward. Tentatively, she took another. Suddenly, she lost her balance, falling into the woman’s arms. “Good job, Rei.” The woman said, stroking her hair, “I knew you could do it.” Rei woke up, startled by the sudden memory. That was the first memory of her mother she had ever had. Whatever it meant, Rei felt more determined than ever to find the fire lily. As the sun crawled up into the sky, Rei started hiking again. Soon, she was met by a waterfall tumbling down a cliff. Luckily, she was prepared. She reached into her backpack and pulled out a rope. Throwing one end of the rope to the top, she hoisted herself up. She knew that stepping on the wrong place would cost her life, so she was extremely careful about where she put her foot. At last, she heaved herself up and onto the peak of the Pearl Mountain. The scenery was amazingly beautiful. The sun was slowly creeping behind the hills, pouring out hot oranges and reds into the sky. Brilliant shades of blue and purple sneaked in as well. The waterfall tumbled down the rocks like the heartbeat of the world. Cicadas had started chirping a cheery tune. Rei smiled. She sat down and admired the view. Someone tapped her on the shoulder, making her jump. She turned around and saw another girl staring at her. The girl had ginger, bright green eyes and a face full of freckles. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” The girl said shyly. “No worries, I’m just surprised that someone lives up here.” “Oh, it’s not just me, my whole family live up here.” “Really?” Rei asked curiously. “Really.” The girl smiled and Rei noticed that she spoke in an accent, “I don’t even know your name yet! Mine’s Sonia.” “Mine’s Rei, nice to meet you, Sonia.” She laughed, the name curling on her tongue. “Nice to meet you, too. You seem absolutely exhausted, stay at my house for the night! Come on, my house is this way.” Sonia led Rei towards a small cottage. Sonia opened the front door and went inside, Rei following behind her.

“I am back, Mother!” Sonia called out.

“Who is that with you?” she inquired, “Oh my,” Sonia’s mother gasped when she saw Rei, “ You look absolutely exhausted! What have you been doing? Climbing the mountain?

“Yes, actually.” Rei admitted, and she told Sonia and her mother her story. “We actually have the flower you’ve described planted in our back yard.” Sonia said after Rei finished her story, “I’m sure no one will mind if you pluck a petal off of it.” “Thank you so much!” Rei said brightly. They then headed to the kitchen and Sonia’s mother served dinner. Rei met Sonia’s father, little brother and her grandparents. They are a happy family. Rei thought. Rei sat by the window, staring outside. The full moon hung in the starry sky like a great, luminous pearl. She sighed and decided to go back to sleep. Tomorrow, she thought, I will be on my way home.

Fiction: Group 3

Brilliant gold and orange hues spread across the sky as the sun rose when I said goodbye to Sonia’s family. “Bye, Rei!” Sonia waved, “Visit soon!” “I will!” Rei climbed down slowly. This has truly been an incredible journey she thought. The rushing of the river matched her heartbeat as she dashed back to the village. Her father was sat in a wooden chair. He looked up just in time to see Rei running towards him, a beautiful sunset colored petal clutched in her hand. “Father, I’m home!” She exclaimed.

Fiction: Group 3

What is Home? Ying Wa College, Ho, Tze Lok - 13, Fiction: Group 3

am swimming across the Pearl River Delta with my cub as usual. The sky is rather dim, with thick clouds blocking with the sun. It looks quite grey in the distance, so is my mood.

Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m a Chinese white dolphin, actually a grown-up one, as my skin is pale pink. Others consider me lucky, because not many of us can live for so long. But I do not think so. The living condition has become so poor that I do not want live. But for my cub, I still need to live and foster it. I can still remember what it was like when I was only a cub. The ocean was much cleaner, and it glistened under the bright sunshine. I was always playing hide-and-seek with my companions thrillingly, without any worries. But it is a world of contrast now. There are often plastic bottles and transparent bags floating on the sea like dead bodies. I quiver a little as they float near me. I continue my journey. I see a tall chimney spitting out foggy smoke, polluting the air and the ocean. The Pearl River Delta had been developing rapidly during this decade, but people never think of the drawbacks of it. Is development more important than the basic rights of animals? What is a standard living environment? People can never know our feelings since they cannot have a taste of being a dolphin, right? I swim south with my cub. Suddenly, I hear a shrieking and unpleasant sound that sounds like an engine. An orange figure is the only thing I can see at the moment, though I am pretty sure that it was a speedboat. I was right. It comes to into shape after a few seconds and it startles the calm ocean, which results in waves splattering on my skin. The waves become bigger. I have only a few seconds to escape with my cub as the boat drives straight away. The driver did not even look back. If I had escaped a second later, he might have killed me. I dive up and down in the ocean until I reach Hong Kong. Workers and machines are building a long bridge. I am living there before I wander the sea every day. The construction of the bridge has occupied my home. Mud has drifted from the construction site, making the sea as dirty as ever. All of a sudden, I feel something blocking my throat. Then I realise that it is a plastic bag. I soon find breathing difficult. Luckily, after a few times of hard work, I cough it out. However, I am sure that I cannot live here from now on. It was too risky and dangerous for me and the cub. Is it still a home? A home that I can live without worrying every day? The word “home” seems to be a stranger to me, which I do not dare to hope for. I glanced at the Pearl River Delta, saying goodbye to my last piece of childhood memory which roots here. I start swimming out of the Pearl River Delta with my cub, and into the vast ocean, seeking for a worriless life.

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Fiction: Group 3

Presence of Emptiness Ying Wa College, Ho, Yan Mong - 14, Fiction: Group 3

t was late at night and I barely caught the last train after work in Shenzhen. The train was empty, the sort of emptiness when you feel that nothing interesting would happen. I observed things around me, it was a habit of mine as a journalist. And this night, I noticed the different presences of emptiness

accompanying me. The first emptiness I could feel on the train was a hollow and unfilled atmosphere made by things

that were lacking. There was no one in the compartment with me that was unusual even in this kind of hour. There were no people talking, there were no telephone ringing, even the slightest movement would have filled this void. But there was none of these things, so the emptiness stayed with me.

The second emptiness was less obvious, the silence. There was no laughter or conversation, and all you could hear was the nonstop rumbling sound of the train. This rumbling sound was different, it did not fill the hollowness like normal sounds could. Instead, it added hollowness to it. It was an observer mocking at the first emptiness, it was a silence with a touch of criticism which added another level of vacancy in the train.

The third emptiness was not easy to perceive, I did not notice it at first, but after a while I could feel it creeping under my skin. It came from a man who took a seat opposite me a few seconds ago, he was in his twenties and he was an Asian. His face was sorrowful and empty, like all hope had already been taken away from him. The last emptiness was his, and the greatest emptiness was his, it was the emptiness of a man without hope.

The instinct of a journalist kicked in, urgeing me to reveal the story behind the man’s mask. “Hello, my name is Peter Chan, nice to meet you. It is a nicely written book, isn’t it?” I pointed at

the book clutched in his hand, The Book Thief. The man was startled, he considered and said, “Do you believe in love at first

sight?” I shook my head, confused. “Well, I do. I have loved books the first time I laid my hands on them and I told

myself that I would read all the books in the whole world. And that was my goal then. “Because of my thirst of knowledge, I successfully went into a high school, and then university. It

was not easy for me because my parents were farmers and I lived in a remote village.” He nodded and there was a moment I could see a tinge of happiness on his face, but it faded just as it appeared.

I tried to conceal my smile underneath but still I smirked. I had always hungered for good stories like this.

“I was a poet when I graduated, full of passion and enthusiasm, I was so excited about my life… I was a fool. I thought that after all the hard work I’d gone through, I would find a decent job, but no! There was nothing…”

He slid down in his seat and stared at the floor of the train, disappointed. I remained silent and waited for his response. After a while he started again,

“I wanted to be a writer but....” he smiled bitterly. There was another pause. “My friends told me to work in Guangdong, they said life would be better here. They even said

that there were many job opportunities which promised a future as bright as a shining pearl! So I moved to Shenzhen and I tried to be a librarian. I was turned down again. After that, I was slowly running out of money, I needed a job quickly. My friend told me to work in a factory called Nosco which is a major manufacturing hub in Southern China. And it is often called as a “sweatshop”.” I gasped, “A poet working in a “sweatshop”?”

“At first, I couldn’t accept this job. After all these years of studying, and all I could do is labour work? Running out of money, I had no choice. After I went in, I made a friend called Zhi Ming, and I found out that he was also a college graduate, just like me and he worked happily in Nosco. I discovered that I wasn’t the only one with the same problem out there, this changed my view of my job and I was more willing to work there.

“I was more relaxed for a short time, but then I started to think about

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Fiction: Group 3

my dream again. Is my dream gone? Should I follow my dream? I couldn’t let go of my dream, there was a part of me that still believed my dream could be fulfilled. There was a time of frustration and a lot of thinking, I didn’t know what to do then.” “What would you do if you were me?”

“My opinion?” I thought about it for a moment, “I really don’t know what to do. It’s a very tough choice.” I chuckled.

“Well, at that time everyone told me to stay, I myself wanted to leave. I still haven’t chosen yet, fate had chosen for me that time.” He sighed again.

“What happened?” I asked. “Everybody ages, it is inevitable. My parents were too old to work and they did not have enough

money to live. They needed my help. Again, what choice could I have? None! I couldn’t abandon my parents, and following my dream was far too risky, so my only choice was to work at Nosco.”

He sighed, and started whirling his book again and again, deep in his thoughts. “After I received the letter, I worked long hours and worked hard for my parents, my whole body

became a working machine, doing the same job again and again. It was the most tiring year I had.” I held my breath and waited, at the same time guilt started boiling inside me. I actually felt

delighted when he started talking about his story! All I cared about was how good the story is, why am I so selfish? The man’s face became twisted, I could see emotions fighting each other, anger, frustration, despair…he started angrily,

“Why god? What have I done wrong? Is it wrong for someone to follow his own dream?” He sobbed and buried his head in his hands.

After a while, he calmed down a bit. “I love my parents and I worked very hard for them, but why? Why did God do

this to me…?” He sniffled. “My parents died last year. After all of my hard working… and fate gave me

nothing!” “Somebody needs to know about this.” His voice was determined. “My parents died, and I was lost, I continued working mindlessly. I didn’t know where to

go, my family died. What’s the point of life? Why did I even start to follow my dream? The Pearl River Delta, the heart of China, more likely the crusher of dreams!” then he handed me a paper folder while he slowly stood up, I did not question him and he suddenly started to recite.

“I want to take another look at the ocean, behold the vastness of tears from a lifetime. I want to climb another mountain, try to call back the soul that I’ve lost. I want to touch the sky, feel that blueness so light…” Then he left the compartment, leaving a folder behind and me astounded… The next day, I got up early like any usual days and went to work on the first train. The emptiness

had gone as if what had happened last night was a dream, people were everywhere, the train were inundated with noises. I stared at the window during the whole trip with thoughts worth the weight of a thousand mountains, and at the same time admiring the immenseness of Shenzhen. The Pearl River Delta was growing rapidly, with skyscrapers sprouting like grass flourishing, but it was also a place where dreams were crushed. The Pearl River Delta was the heart of China made out of countless of broken dreams.

The fourth emptiness was the least easiest to find, if you observed closely you would feel the emptiness leaking out from the gaps between doors of a train going to the city, and you would feel it seeping out from a folder in my right hand. The emptiness came from the folder, and the emptiness was vast. In the folder, it wrote,

“But I can’t do any of this, so I’m leaving this world. Everyone who heard of me, Shouldn’t be surprised at my leaving. Even less should you sigh or grieve. I was fine when I came, and fine when I left.”

Fiction: Group 3

Time Travel in Guangzhou Ying Wa College, Jim, Man Yui - 12, Fiction: Group 3

t was a fine summer’s day in Guangzhou. The newlyweds, Bruce and Diana, were leaning upon the luxury round-the-world cruiser’s railing. They watched as the sun sank slowly over the horizons, reflecting its last rays of sunlight towards Guangzhou’s metropolitan area.

Diana breathed “Such a shame.” Bruce replied “ What is to be shamed, my dearest?” Diana said, “ The sunlight, reflected on the buildings, never comes out again, like it’s trapped in a web. Guangzhou is a nice city, but it’s too cosmopolitan for me.” Bruce says, “hmm, I agree…”

The next day, Bruce and Diana woke up late. They immediately brushed their teeth and changed. Then, they went outside of their cruiser cabin.

Outside, the cruiser was enrobed in thick smoky smog. There was no sight of anyone. Diana whispered, “ What’s happening? Where is everyone?” Bruce said “ Hmm, maybe it’s just a practical joke.” Diana said “ Not likely, by the looks of it .If this was really a joke, how did they make the smog?”

Suddenly, a distinctive moaning sound came. Both Diana and Bruce shivered. Diana asked shakingly “ W-hhatt Happp-ennd?” Bruce said adventurously “ Let’s go and find out!” Diana said, “ Okay, but you’ll need to accompany me.”

The duo slowly crept towards the place where the sound was originating. They soon found out that the noise was coming from a big, bulky thing wrapped up with a white canvas cloth. Bruce tore the cloth apart----- and saw a young girl around 14 or so tightly bound up with torn strips of cloth. Even her mouth was tightly gagged. Diana immediately started to untie her gags.

While she was doing so, the smog around them disappeared suddenly, as if drawn away by an invisible hand. The scene that awaited them was such a surprise to everybody; they couldn’t help stifling a gasp.

The ultra-modern high-rise skyscrapers had vanished. What had replaced them were ancient Tang-dynasty styled wooden pavilions, complete with carriages and all sorts of ornate bridges.

“Omigosh” exclaimed Diana, “where on earth are we?” “It seems we’ve time-traveled back to tang Dynasty,” piped Bruce. Suddenly, the young girl moaned again. Diana immediately rushed towards the girl. Diana

tenderly inquired, “ What’s your name? My name’s Diana.” The young girl, weak from her recent kidnapping experience, moaned weakly “ My name’s

Hermione.” Diana’s pupils grew as big as saucers, “ Really? Your name’s just like Harry Potter’s friend, Hermione Granger. Do you like watching those series too?”

Hermione moaned hoarsely “ Actually, I’d prefer resting now. Could I perhaps sleep on some bunk beds?”

Bruce interrupted “ No problem. Get comfy.” As Hermione trailed away, Diana pulled Bruce towards a nearby corner and hissed, “ She just

squirreled away! My sixth sense is alerting me she’s probably a ‘spy’” Bruce retorted, “Don’t be ridiculous! She’s already quite tired. Just let her rest for a while.”

After this teeny squabble, they began investigating. The cruiser was now floating peacefully on the water, but the people on the river’s banks were ogling and pointing at them. Some guards suddenly appeared from nowhere and started to swim towards the boat.

The guards soon arrived on the ship. The guards then spoke in an ancient Chinese dialect that the U.S. newlyweds couldn’t understand. Diana asked, “ What on earth are you talking about?” Since the guards couldn’t understand their language, they rudely took Diana’s hand and pulled her away. Bruce shouted “ Hey, watch what you’re doing with my fiancée!” The guards ignored him and continued carrying Diana away. They even forced Diana to swim back to the banks!

Then, the guards started to pull Bruce away from the cruiser too. The two newlyweds shrieked for help. But, not a single person could hear what they were saying (or more precisely, shrieking for help.)

They were then being towed away by the guards. At the same moment, Hermione came out of the cabin and leaned on the cruiser’s railing watching them, with a smirk on her face…

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They were locked in a crudely made wooden“ jail”. The Chinese guards rudely pushed the newlyweds inside and bolt locked it. Diana started to cry. Bruce patted her shoulder and said comfortingly “ Nah, don’t cry. All will be figured out soon. It’s fine.” As Diana sobbed, she noticed that Hermione was not with them. She asked Bruce “ Where is hermio…

As the couple were talking, the wooden “jail” tipped over. It fell into the Pearl River Delta with a humongous SPLASH. Diana and Bruce landed in the ice-cold, muddy water of the river.

As they couldn’t open the bolt, the newlyweds were trapped inside the wooden jail. Diana and Bruce could not breathe. They could not speak. Instead, they just held hands, their eyes tightly closed, and awaited for death to come.

Soon, they couldn’t feel their legs. Couldn’t feel their arms. Couldn’t feel their… The couple woke up suddenly in their luxury condo in Los Angeles. Diana muttered, her face

paling as she remembered the gruesome dream “ Bruce, maybe going to the Pearl River Delta isn’t such a good thing. Maybe Hong Kong would suffice as our honeymoon destination.” Bruce nodded “ Yes, I think Hong Kong is a better choice…”

Fiction: Group 3

Economic Crisis Ying Wa College, Lam, Chun Ting Ernest - 13, Fiction: Group 3

moke, flames, debris, corpses of unfortunate victims that had their skin seared off. Blood oozed under huge piles of rubble everywhere. The smell of burning skin and death floated around the air like the smoke cloud around the once-grand and tall Guangzhou trade center. There were three of these

majestic buildings inside the buzzing economic zone of the Pearl River Delta, where trades were done, and deals sealed. These buildings were the heart and core of the economy in China. And all of them were guarded with high-tech security: no planes were allowed to fly over them (that lesson had been learned from the Americans), every employee was checked at least five times before they could go in to work, and 250 security guards were stationed all around the building. Some joked that there was more security than in the Pentagon. And that was true, not even a fly could get in without being checked. But still every armor has a chink. And nothing lasts forever… Trevor Lee was sitting in the meeting room of 30 people, all of the highest ranking officials in the whole of China were staring dejectedly at the screen showing the live news about an explosion that blew a massive hole in the building that caused the fall of the Guangzhou trade center. All of them were silent for a moment before the whole room, exploded with conversation. “This is insane, that place has more security than the whole of China, how could this happen?” the short and stout faced secretary of defense said. “That’s not the problem.” Said the chief of economics. “The worst thing that can happen is the stock market, it’s dropping 1% every 10 minutes! And you’re still worrying about who’s done this? We have to save the market!” Still he looked on, waiting for the” Boss “of China to speak. President Chan spoke up “There is no need for panic, we must all stay calm. Mr. Fai call the other two trading centers to add extra security to the. And you Mr. Lee, shall investigate the cause of the explosion.” He pointed to Trevor. This is very important, I want a report done in twenty...” The screen suddenly went black, all of the officials stopped muttering and went silent. President Chan asked,” Is this a live feed?” A man holding a notebook sitting at the back of the room answered “Yes. It is m checking with the communication department apparently all the live feeds have the same problem.” Without warning, the screen lit up and a man was looking out of the screen. Many of the officials gasped in surprise. The man was wearing a mask made from something that looked like human skin. The man was wearing a black coat, and a black fedora. He sat on a black armchair and was holding a black cane. President Chan stiffened, he asked “Who is this?” The man spoke in English, his raspy voice was hard to discern. Trevor strained his ears to listen “Good morning everyone! Did you see our fireworks display? That was fun wasn’t it, did you enjoy it?” Many of the officials were shaking their heads in disbelief, one said “It was you who destroyed our trade center? Who are you? Who are you working for?” The man laughed, his cackling laughter echoed around the room. “Ha, Ha, Ha! We have no official name, but you can call use LEGION. We are many, we are united. And in twenty-four hours, one of your precious little trade centers will go ‘Boom’! So let’s see who’s faster. See you tomorrow!” The screen went black. The whole room exploded into chaos, officials were standing up and screaming at their phones or at each other, and pencils were flying in the air. Only Trevor and President Chan were still sitting in their seats. President Chan shouted “Silence! Calm down, this is now a matter of national security, this is a terrorist attack. I want everyone to devote all their time to this investigation. Mr. Lee, you will investigate the source of the video and find the next target, now!” Trevor ran to the Investigation Room. His assistant Josiah Chau was waiting for him. “So you got an idea about the next target?” Trevor nodded and said, “I thought I saw something in that video, it’s a clue I think.” Then ran to find the head of security. They watched the video again. This time Trevor looked closer at the man in black, was that? “Stop! Zoom in.” The IT assistants did as he told and…” Bingo!” The screen showed a blurred, but distinct Tattoo showing on the neck of the man. Trevor walked to the nearest computer and typed the name Jason Wu. “Who is that?” asked Josiah. “He was a drug dealer and robber, he was once a crime boss in Hong Kong and was caught a year ago. He broke out of prison last week. I remember his tattoo.” He always had a grudge at the judge who sentenced him to prison, and his son works in that trade center in Hong Kong. He’s probably the closest member to the trade centers, without arousing suspicion, because he’s a Hong Kong resident. All the trains and planes to Hong Kong are cancelled. So he is

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the only possible choice for a bomber.” “Whoa!” exclaimed Josiah. “You make Sherlock Holmes look like a baby.” Trevor turned and ran off to tell President Chan. Two hours later, they took a limo to the closest airport, and then took a private plane. President Chan had organized 300 military soldiers to meet them in Honk Kong, and they would stand guard in the HK trade center and protect him. “Remember, if you see the convict capture him, use any means necessary but do not kill him. The fate of China, Hong Kong and millions of traders around the world depend on you. Do not fail me.” Any rational man would be scared or nervous when hearing such news. Not many people can handle the pressure, when the world is in your hands. But Trevor was an ex-military, nothing much scared him. He tucked in and slept. They arrived at a military base 3 hours later. The military base was a hub of activity, and all personal were arming themselves with guns and body armour. “Josiah and Trevor were already dressed and ready to go. A commander walked towards them and said “Ok here’s the plan, our Intel’s told us that culprit Jason Wu, is going to meet up with the local gangs 2 hours later. So we’re going to intercept him and beat him till he tells us about the plans of the bombing. Clear?” Trevor nodded and got his gear ready. They were waiting at the drop out point in the busy streets of Mong Kok, 50 soldiers were ordered to protect them and capture Jason Wu. They were stationed in a minivan, looking at a stand that was selling electrical appliances. A few moments later, a man wearing a black coat walked out with a few dozen goons behind him. The owner of the stand stood up when he saw him, and rushed to the back of the stall and walked out carrying a big bag. The walky-talky on his belt, whirred and the voice of the military commander rang out. “Move out!” The soldiers burst out on the street. Jason stiffened and backed away as 49 guns pointed at his face. They stuffed him into the back of their minivan. “Who are you working for? What’s your next move?” Trevor screamed at his face. Jason laughed a humorless laugh “You’re finished, your little bank is going to go poof in 1 hour. You will never stop us!” Trevor raised his hand and smashed his fist against Jason’s ribs. “Tell me now!” Suddenly, the mini screen in the van glowed, a man wearing an identical costume to Jason’s in the like the last video was standing in front of the screen. “Hello, China! You know that the Chinese government is now searching for us in Hong Kong? But their fruitless attempts will be useless, we gave a false trail and now they’re in Hong Kong, but the fireworks will be in…..Fuzhou!!!!! And about the 24 hour deadline… I lied.” The laughter of both the man in the screen and Jason mingled together. The screen flicked back to the news and Trevor saw a huge airplane speeding towards the Fuzhou trade center, he saw military people setting up the anti-air weaponry and aimed, the plane spiraled through the air and….

Fiction: Group 3

The Treasure Ying Wa College, Lam, Yik Ki - 12, Fiction: Group 3

he sleepiness in their eyes made them look awkward. Mark flickered his eyes. He knew that no matter what, he was still slightly hungry. For ten hours, his team has not eaten anything, because he used every nickel he had for winning the ultimate prize

of a treasure hunt named “The Adventure of The Pearl River Delta”, which was a race that scattered clues across the Pearl River Delta, waiting for the competitors to find them. The value of the prize is three times his Mum and Dad’s inheritance. For two months they have been hitchhiking around Guangzhou, Huizhou, Dongguan…You name a place around the Pearl River Delta, and they have been there. They were at their last destination: Hong Kong. Mark grunted, and slithered towards the window. He was at Ngong Ping Village, the upper part of the Ngong Ping 360. He opened his bulged bag and fished out the clue he recently received in Zhuhai. Written in ink, it read, “NgoPi x 2. No 43. Go with the green one.” In the end, he worked it out. ‘Ngo’ was half of ‘Ngong’, and ‘Pi’ was half of ‘Ping’. ‘No 43’ stood for ‘Car number 43’. As for ‘the green one’, he guessed it might be something green with a set of controls. “Hey,” Fred tapped his shoulder. “It’s time to go. The cable service will start soon.” “Do a cars count, Fred and Kathy,” Mark told them while looking into their half-opened eyes. “We need to go into car number 43.” “Aye aye, Mark,” Fred started to walk away as the sound of the conductor reverberated the whole place, announcing, “The cable car service will start soon.” Hearing the call, Mark sprinted towards the ticket counter, where a lot of people were lining up to buy their tickets. Mark waited for about five minutes. “How many people?” the conductor inside the ticket counter asked. “Six people,” Mark looked sadly at his wallet. His team was made up of four people, but the capacity of the cable car was six passengers. He could not risk letting other people get the two remaining seats. No one else should know about the clue. “Tell the worker there you will occupy the whole cable car,” the conductor said, handing out a ticket for six passengers. Clutching the ticket like a priceless treasure, he looked towards the queue for boarding the cable cars, where Kathy and Fred were counting the number of cars. This was important because two partners could assure that they could get into cable car number 43. Mark walked up to them. “Are you counting?” Mark asked them, waving the ticket. “Yeah,” Kathy replied, faster than Fred did. “How many, Kathy?” he eyed her suspiciously. Kathy opened her mouth, but stopped and looked at the queue. Then she turned back. “Lost count,” she answered sheepishly. Mark gave her a threatening look. Suddenly, the last member Joanne ran up to them. “Guys, cable car number 43 is arriving,” she spit out the words. Mark sighed heavily. “I am going to regret this,” he said, then knocked out the worker serving the passengers. The four of them jumped into the cable car number 43 that was just departing. The worker looked up in surprise, gasped, then stood up and ran for the alarm button. “Quick! Search the car!” Mark ordered, and looked under his seat. Sure enough, he found a set of controls under his seat, with red and green buttons, but everyone else had similar sets of controls. The colors of the buttons looked like what Mark has seen in the Temple of the Six Banyan Trees when he was in Guangzhou. Suddenly, without any further notice, Joanne got up and pressed the green button under Fred’s seat. “Hey…” Mark looked at Joanne astonishingly as she snatched a paper inside a container that appeared suddenly after the button was pressed. The clue was written on that piece of paper. Immediately after that, every cable car under the same cableway was stopped. Kathy leaned over. “What does the clue say?” she asked curiously. Joanne looked at the piece of paper. Mark, who was reading the back of the paper, sighed. “It tells us to jump off the cable car when it meets the first electrical tower.” Fred followed Mark’s view. “Oh,” he exclaimed. “I have not noticed there is something written at the back!”

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“Yes, but by logic, we cannot get there when the cable car is stuck in the middle between the tower and the terminal!” Kathy gulped as she saw Mark broke open a window. “Wait a second, Mark. You are not going to jump out of the window, are you?” “Yes, right on.” Mark replied with confidence. Fred followed Mark as he jumped out of the broken window, desperate to get a firm grip of the metal cord on the roof of the cable car. Kathy had no choice but to do that also. “Stand on the roof of the cable car. Let the operator see you do that,” Joanne demanded. “When he sees you, he will not dare restarting the cable cars.” “Fred,” Mark nodded at him when he was helping Kathy to get up. “Shoot a cord from here to the electrical tower so that we can slide down to the tower.” Joanne handed out a roll of cord. At the end of the cord, a pair of claws was tied to it. Fred shot the claws forward, and hooked the cord firmly to the bottom of the electrical tower. “Ready to slide down to the electrical tower,” Mark ordered. He got hold of the cord by his arms and his legs, hanging his body in the air. He gave one last look to the team, and then let himself sliding down the cord. The others followed, and also landed at the bottom of the electrical tower safely, except Fred. “Fred, go down now!” Mark yelled at Fred who was still standing on the cable car. Fred nodded. He got hold of the cord, but he was too afraid to slide down. “Close your eyes and let yourself slide down!” Joanne shouted. Fred closed his eyes and moved himself slowly down the cord. Finally, the whole team was able to reach the electrical tower, but they were still on a hill, not sure what to do next. “Here we go,” Mark gasped for breath after all the excitement. “Where is the next clue?” “Under this big rock,” Joanne pointed to a rock close to the tower. Fred touched the rock, but it was made of plastic. It was so light that the team was able to push it down the cliff. “Here is the final clue,” Fred said, picking up the small piece of paper on the ground. It was a map of Pearl River Delta, with an “X” marked in the middle of the Zhujiang River Estuary. “Are you sure we are going to dive down the sea?” Kathy asked. “Sure we are. Let’s get ourselves some diving suits,” Fred responded. They borrowed three diving suits, and board onto a motorboat and sailed to the location corresponding to the “X” mark in the Zhujiang River Estuary. Fred was staying up on the boat, while the rest of them dived into the sea. They used up much of the time to look for signs. Mark looked at his watch. His oxygen tank could only provide him with air for three more minutes. Fortunately, he discovered a glass plate on a big rock marked with an “X”. “Lift it up,” Mark ordered. Kathy gave the glass plate to him, and Mark put it aside. “Uh,” Kathy gulped. “What’s the matter?” Mark went over to have a look. “But… there is nothing!” “Yes, there is,” Joanne bent down and picked up a brown key. “This is an iron key.” “But,” Kathy stammered, “but….” “Yes, the treasure chest is here. The rock itself is the treasure chest.” Joanne searched for the key hole on the surface of the rock until she found a dent. “Here we go.” She put in the key, and turned. Suddenly, a gap appeared around the rock, and then it sprang open. Her teammates looked inside curiously. Nobody said anything, for what they found was something else. Suddenly it made sense: why did they not see the other competitors. They took a wrong route to another treasure. Probably they interpreted the clue they had gotten in Zhuhai the wrong way. What they found was the treasure of a very powerful family whose members died during a family vacation not long ago. The value of this treasure is much more than the prize of the treasure hunt! “Anyhow,” Mark said at last, “This is the most interesting day I have ever had in my life.”

Fiction: Group 3

The Future of the Pearl River Delta Ying Wa College, Leung, Tik Ching Modecai - 13, Fiction: Group 3

21 Oct 2075. It has been six months since he tasted fresh water.

ix months before, the Pearl River was gleaming. The water was pure. Now, atomic waste has laid ruins along the banks of Guangzhou. Toxic chemicals were dumped into the river gallons at a time.

Arien knelt down next to the shore. How sad, how sad … 20 Dec 2075. The pollution to the Delta region was enormous. Bryan stalked towards the gaping hole in the wall. The tanks full of plutonium have leaked themselves dry. The government has already sealed off the area in case anyone was stupid enough to hijack another cruiser and take a dip in the Pearl River. Bryan’s friends have already died off one by one due to the radiation. Arien was the only one left, and he has suffered heavy mental torment. The last Bryan heard, Arien has forgotten everything except the history of the Pearl River Delta. That was terrible. Most of the pain must have come from losing his grandpa, Isaac… 10 Apr 2025. Isaac was nervous. Real nervous. Like, as nervous as hell. He was about to depart on a sabotage mission to destroy the Daya Bay Nuclear Power Plant. He was seeking revenge on the government for destroying his hometown and burning his house down. Grrrr. He was very pissed off. But now, with the plant looming out of the dark, he was starting to have second thoughts. There were guards everywhere. With a gasp, he jumped into the water. He kicked towards the shore. By the time the guards had spotted his abandoned ship, he was deep into the bowels of the plant. Somewhere outside, he heard the unmistakable bellow of a foghorn of what could only be a navy vessel. He shuddered. Great. Now he had to walk or swim away from the plant, assuming he could even succeed on his quest. He crept towards Tank no.1. With his machete, he smashed a hole into the side of the storage tank. Uh-oh. “Take that, suckers!” With a laugh, he ran to Tank no. 2, as the alarm blared, “Warning. Leakage detected in Tank no.1.” He knocked down a canister and leapt out of the way and found himself staring at a wall of atomic waste. Shocked, he only had time to think: What the…before he was consumed by the radiation. 21 Oct 2075. How he missed the clear water! Arien decided to travel to his grandpa and stop him for his sake and the future of the Delta. He felt bad about it, but at least the seas would be blueish green once again. He also decided to send a message… 15 Dec 2014. And that is the message we have today. People of the World! Stop pollution! Save the future, for if we all work hard together, it is not too late to save Arien’s world!

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Fiction: Group 3

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Ying Wa College, Pang, Ka Wang - 12, Fiction: Group 3

050. The world in war. Millions of missiles streaking through the sky like fireworks. Thousands of military contracts and war meetings around the world. Public news reports show desperate presidents signing increasingly violent contracts with powerful third-person companies such as NucTech, which

specializes in creating micro sized nuclear devices. Once, they would have been shut down for dangerous technology. Now, the governments across the globe send out urgent pleas for new weapons to destroy enemy countries. A war started with a basic need fuel. After years of gorging, fuel has already been depleted. Humanity fighting for the last vestiges of oil and petroleum. Giant mechanical suits grappling for the borderline power generators and storage stations. The world torn as the US and China desperately lash out at each other, with neutral countries taking sides in the Great Wars that followed. The last vestiges of Chinese humanity moved underground to escape the purge above, locking themselves in a system of giant bunkers hollowed outas storage before the nuclear disaster. As the upper world was torn into a post-apocalyptic wasteland, humanity burrowed underground in a last-ditch effort. Kim, one of the last survivors, closed his computer and yawned. He took a swig of water from the purifier, which was one of the jokes that the people shared between themselves. “We live under a river, but we need to import and purify water!” The water above them was so polluted even before the Purge, that drinking it would probably give you a third eye or a tail. Still, today was no day for jokes. Today was the day of--without warning, the lights flickered out, as they had been doing for the last few years. Power was getting low in the bunkers. There had been wind of a geothermal power generator for a while, but apparently we weren’t on a “fault line” or something. And so the faults continued, until one day the “Great Break” (a play on the words of Great Britain) occurred, shutting the whole City into darkness for three days in a row. After that, the City’s Great Leader decided to return to the surface-for the first time in the thirty years after the war reached its height. After years of hiding, the City’s resources were depleted. It was time to return-and face what awaited above. As for the date, the mayor had chosen the Midsummer festival, a time of family togetherness, and a lucky day. It was today, the time of the last Break, and as Kim raced for the Great Hall, his heart raced with anticipation-and hope. The mayor, his old face further wrinkled by time and the ghastly light of the emergency torches, was conducting some sort of speech Kim couldn’t hear. At the end, he touched a banner: The City Banner, which was a square with a tree inside. He lifted it, and amongst a chorus of “oohs” and “ahs”, revealed an ancient dial with several symbols etched on it, the five elements: Fire, Gold, Wood, Water, and Earth. Pressing each of them in order, the hall began to shake. With a groan, the top of the hall rumbled, and a voice, echoing in the speakers and bathing them in the suddenly restored light, boomed, “Exit Activation in twenty parsecs. Beginning in twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen…five, four, three, two, ONE…AND ACTIVATION!” The ceiling split open, powered by hidden pistons. With a chorus of creaks and shudders the many layers of walls slid open, the variety of frames, alloys, filters, mesh, and composite that protected the denizens of the underground city retracting, people shrinking away as the last few layers of reinforced metal sliding open, revealing a dull grey sky, and lots of dust. This was earth, as Kim now saw it. Sets of ladders slid out, and Kim was one of the first on them, metal rungs that led up to the surface, and a new world. Escape from the harsh artificial light and metal walls of the bunkers. Roaming free on fields of grass. Just as the history books had described. Unfortunately, what he saw was quite disappointing. The exit was located near the sea, so had the War not came along; Kim would had been greeted with a breath-taking view of the sea, glittering blue in the morning light. As it was, he was greeted with a dry, barren, rocky stretch of land that barely seemed fit for walking on in iron boots, much less strolling leisurely on light plastic sandals. Where the sea should have been, was a giant, flat, mile of land littered with steaming chunks of iron. In the distance, the only thing they could see were smouldering buildings and the battered, dented, hull of a Cyclops Storm walker D-1720, with wires snaking out of the surface. The sky was riddled with smog and wisps of grey smoke.

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A rotting carcass of a soldier was seen, five meters before them. But even worse was the smell. Mix engine oil, tar, rotten eggs, dog poo, and lime together, multiply by a thousand, and you still wouldn’t even come CLOSE to the smell that greeted them. Before they could even say a word, a giant missile with red stripes and smoke coursing out of its vents sped towards them out of nowhere. They pulled off, and within seconds it had smashed into the mound of Cyclops Storm walker, destroying it in a massive explosion. “A stray from the Flyer Grid.” said the mayor, though his voice was still shaky. The Flyer Grid was a particularly destructive battle in which countries launched thousands of proto-nuclear missiles invisible to eyes due to advanced technologies. All local missiles had their own “Grid” which the missiles followed, resulting in a powerfully synchronized missile attack, hence the name. Unfortunately, grids overlapped and crisscrossed, the most notable being America and China. Having similar technological know-how, the missiles practically collided in mid-air, resulting in thousands of explosions which set off other missiles, resulting in tumultuous damage across hundreds of countries. Kim took a deep breath, nose wrinkling in the foul air. Then, grimly, he set off for the nearest city, hoping to scavenge some form of shelter. Sure, life underground was safe, but there was no turning back now. Rebuilding was hard, as it should have been. There were also other survivors to fight against, ghastly replicas of humans with faces tortured by radiation and more. Some they healed, others they released; not out of hate but pity. Soon, they reached a tall Justice Hall, which had fallen into disrepair but was still rock-solid. There they set up camp, and formed the nation of Pangaea, or “All Lands”. They knew that they were the last hope. As they gave birth to the new human race, they rebuilt. And one day, as Kim lay, old and shrivelled, on his deathbed, he looked out at the newly rebuilt area of the Pearl River Delta. Reservoirs of water had been found, releasing clean water into the ocean floor. And Earth would heal itself. Once, this place was a glowing cradle of commerce. People would come to trade, and to buy and sell. Now, it was still a cradle but a cradle of humanity. The new citizens of Pangaea wandered along the freshly paved streets, squealing in delight, admiring the sunset. As Kim closed his eyes for the last time, he smiled.

Fiction: Group 4

Fiction: Group 4

Unexpected Love Beijing World Youth Academy, Temutsilekhu, Dari - 14, Fiction: Group 4

armth of the moon in the water's reflection With blinded eyes and empty heart Moon roamed the world with no direction or

meaning. A hollowed voice, the words of emptiness he could not verbalize. Moon was all alone in the dark cold night, merged in the darkness. He had never tasted the warmth of love, of a smile, of feelings. He would roam the world all alone in utter darkness. The moon was empty because he did not have anyone to talk to but the childish stars, which only danced around him and only told him the stories of Earth. He had nothing to do, except dodge the bright young stars falling down from their child's play, and from the sky. He sighed, "I wonder if this is what my life is, empty stares, and saddened glares at me? When I do not warm nor shine upon anyone?" A saddened tear escaped his eye; he wanted to be something more, so badly just for someone. One day, a bright young star peeped. "I heard about a sight like no others: Sun which warms everything in the world. A glimpse of her blinds you with her beauty. The warmth of her radiates and burns. Her smile sends shivers of warmth down your spine, and her laughter makes each and everyone's heart skip a beat. Without Sun, death would reach each and every one, standing before everyone's eyes in its black shawl," the star peeped out, looking proud of her-self to have brought such information to the moon. The other stars started to laugh in unison, the jingling sound of bells echoing through the dark veil of the sky.

"How can that be?" a star laughed. "You are speaking nonsense how is that possible we never saw that Sun you are talking about?" one

smiled. "Quiet!" Moon roared. The stars stopped, staring in awe, and burst out into laughter. "Look, after all these years of silence, the big one speaks." They laughed so giddily as if it was the most

amusing thing to happen to them. Moon walked away; he was not mad at them. He was happy for them, for the first time in his life he felt his heart lighter. What if the Sun was the one that would make his ice-cold heart warm? The newfound hope warmed his heart. He needed to see her and find her. The idea captured his heart. The idea of Sun that set green plants sprouting from the ground, Sun that scintillated and radiated through the sky. He set out to look for Sun who hung in the sky in a perfect round golden circle, warming everyone's heart. He felt as if the gravity was pulling him towards her. He traveled around the Earth. He never noticed how beautiful Earth is, it seemed so much more beautiful, and it stood before him in its truest glory. He wondered why he was never able to notice the beauty of the Earth. He had watched it for so long, in pain, that his heart had created an illusion of the cold loneliness of life. He marveled at the beauty of the rolling mountains and the sweet scent of life. Perhaps it was the new found hope for a blazing future his heart ached for. He rolled across the world, the warmth of the idea mending his bitter heart. He rolled and rolled; he started noticing the same landscapes, exactly the same, and realized he was going in circles. He felt out of time. He kept on chasing, and moving and running and rolling...captivated by the idea of the Sun.

He paused to rest, he closed his eyes "I can't explain why, but I want to try," he whispered. He looked around the landscape that sent chills down his body; the stunning view which he saw was like nothing he could imagine. The world was such an amazing sight. He caught a glimpse of a tidal wave of mystery. She was River. She sustained the lives of creatures, the humans everything. A beauty, which was like no other, it flowed through the hands of those who tried to steal it. Her melodious laughter infected everything, the high, soft sound and the feeling of pure warmth. The fast paced speed, the way she was dauntless for anything. Moon had never seen anything as beautiful; sure he heard about the marvels of the world, but never of anything as beautiful as her. River was so up wrapped in her thoughts she did not notice Moon. She thought of how she wished she could soar through the sky like the birds, soaring freely across the sky. But she was tied to the earth through which she ran. She wanted something different, something exciting. She had wished for many things, sometimes it was too much for her to handle. One second she was grimmer than the death, the next she was brighter than the stars at night, and laughing, singing and dancing her way down. She knew that she did not understand herself and it annoyed her.

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Fiction: Group 4

Moon watched as River would shift, from fast to slow, from lazy to raging until it stopped to rest for a second, right underneath him. His light shone down on her body, until it glowed like the only light in the darkness. He didn't know what to say, the idea of Sun momentarily forgotten. "Hey..." was all he managed to say, more words seemed to be on the tip of his tongue but he could not verbalize them. River turned and smiled, "Hi!" her smile sent a row of goose bumps down his back. She looked so cool, and yet radiated warmth everywhere. Momentarily, Sun was forgotten, it seemed to be like nothing but a yellow circle which burned the eyes of those who gazed upon it; replaced by the strange butterflies which sang to him of River. "Why are you staring at me that way?"River smiled. She looked up at Moon. His smile lit up the world; he seemed so bright and so happy. She felt warmth spread across her body.

"You know I've never noticed the beauty of the world until a few days ago," Moon sighed breathing in the air of love, freedom and happiness. He was finally free from the melancholy days of loneliness.

"It is quite a beauty, the world amazes me. The way everything is balanced, the way everyone has their own role. And yet everything looks so beautiful," River smiled, the world seemed brighter than ever at the moment. "It amazes me how I've never seen the beauty of the world. I wish I was a human. So I would be able to climb every mountain, and every tree, "Moon said. "Yes, it would be so amazing," River imagined the way they would climb the mountain together, how amazing and sweet, and the feeling of the air rustling her hair. For the entire night they laughed together, both of them laughing at such simple things for the first time. They talked about everything; it seemed as if both of them understood each other. They knew each other; the loneliness they had experienced was the longing for each other they had felt for such a long time. "I always felt alone, but I guess I coped with it by smiling my way out. But it never hurt any less. I would hide and look at everything from the corner, where no one could see me but I could see everyone," River sighed. Moon stared; he never knew that someone could feel something so similar. He smiled remembering the now distant memories of sadness, he smiled "I tried writing these poems to let my feelings out, it always seemed to help," he blushed worried that River may laugh at him. "Are you serious? Me too, it was the only way I could ever calm down. It just seemed like the entire world stopped and it's just me and the paper," she smiled dreamily. Moon was dazed; he never knew someone could ever understand him. They talked the night away each hour seeming like nothing more than a second. River looked up at the sky; the stars were slowly vanishing one by one. As Moon felt invisible pressures push him away to the other side of the planet. "What, what's happening?" Moon panicked. He tried to push through the barrier, back to River, but could not. "You have to go now; it's the way of nature! Just go," River shouted to him. She wondered why he never knew about the way of his own life, the way he never stayed in one place. Maybe he never cared, so he never did notice. She sighed, her heart ached for him already, and she wished he could somehow break the nature's walls. But seeing him struggle and hit the wall, time after time, seeing him hurt himself, hollowing his body out with the invisible punches which left scars on his body; it hurt her even more. Moon raced across the world, but this time, it seemed like the time was stretched out, every second seemed like a decade and every minute seemed like a century. The cruelty that the sun continued to rise... The thought of being alone, without her seemed to eat his heart out. The sweet butterflies turned into cats, screeching at his heart. His pressing thoughts, reeled with the reason he was so evilly taken away. His mind racing, he felt as if he was going crazy. He needed her. Finally, he reached the point of destination, to her. As he stopped, he realized how nice it was to have a direction to go to. He came to her, River, she was quiet, the longing in her eyes visible, although she tried her best to hide it. River smiled "About time, you came." Moon looked at her. The mixture of happiness and the pressing sadness crashing down at him. He did not want this to ever end. "When I was forced to move away from you, what was that thing causing me to?"He knew he sounded ignorant asking something about his own way of life but he still did, he knew she would not judge. "Well, every time the Sun comes out, you have to leave because Sun is the day and you are the night...So, whenever Sun comes out the Moon goes away," she softly said. She knew how hard it was to accept nature's ways. But no one could fight the nature's law. She did not want him to leave her again, the warmth he gave her, the happiness he radiated when they were together. It seemed crazy but it was true.

Fiction: Group 4

Moon saw River looking distant, her eyes getting glassy; he knew she did not want him to leave. He didn't want to leave either. "Are you upset?" he whispered. River tried putting a smile on her face; she knew she had to make the best of what she had. "I'm not." she smiled at him she did not want him to feel sad because of her. The sadness was slowly forgotten and locked into a distant drawer of the mind. They talked, laughed and sang all night long until day break. Falling in love even deeper than they did the night before, they never got bored or tired of each other. They did this all night until, they had to part. Moon left his beloved yet again. This time it seemed easier, but he couldn't help but feel the nagging in his heart. He did not know what to do; he could not bear the thought of him without her for the entire day. She seemed so upset, it pained his heart. He wanted to give her something that would show her, his love and make her have a part of him for the day. He wanted something that would remind her of him for the long hours he wasn't there. He thought long and hard, his mind racing. Until his mind wandered off to the clear memory of how he met River. Until a thought struck him, he smiled, the thought warming his heart the way it warmed up when he was truly full of hope. The next night when Moon settled down again in front of River, he smiled. Moon started talking, he cleared his throat, a melon sized smile spread on his face "I thought that you might miss me. And I could not possibly stand the idea of you being all alone again. I want you to be happy." He smiled and pulled a million scintillating, shining, blazing round rocks out. They were the color of the sky, the color of the stars, the color of dusk and dawn. Each one filled with the cold colors of the warm Moon. River smiled, her smiled lighting up his heart in an instant, he knew that she loved it. Her eyes seemed to shine brighter than ever. Perhaps, they were the tears of joy "How did you make that? These are so dazzling; I've never seen anything as beautiful." she breathed out. "Well, I just mixed a bit of me and a bit of the sky and love into it." Moon smiled. "These are pearls, rocks that will always remind you of me; no matter where I am," he whispered seeing her dazzled look. His heart warmed at the sight of her happy smile. From that day on, River filled up with all the pearls you could imagine. The infinite beauty of the pearls reminding River of her loved one every day. The humans now call this river the Pearl River and her tributaries the Pearl River Delta. The tributaries were the children of the Pearl River and Moon. They wait for their father to finally arrive from a day of travel every day; and every night glow with happiness. All filled with an excess of pearls, made by the unthinkable love of the moon and the Pearl River.

Fiction: Group 4

Subject 2047 Buddhist Sin Tak College, Wong, Yuen Kei - 16, Fiction: Group 4

ello. Who’s there? ... Oh, you again. Any more ‘tales’ you want to tell me? Be quick…Yes, I’m working, since 8. So don’t worry, I’m experienced with packaging now. No accidents should… What? No! It’s perfectly legal since the government passed the law in 2040…

Please don’t pull my leg. My armclock clearly says ‘19/1/2045’…No, they didn’t pass that law in 2007 nor passed that in 2014… No, the colour doesn’t exist. They. Don’t. Exist… Alright, I’m hanging up. Bye.”

I slammed the phone back into its slot, finally breathing in some air. I was a bit startled to see Manager standing next to me. I staggered a bit and made no sound.

“Salut…tations. Great Man…nager,” I stuttered. “Her again?” Her eyes reflected the icy glimmer of the lone light bulb up the ceiling. “Yes, Manager. With the same repetitive speech.” I quicly replied. “I see that she lacks medication,” she stroked the shiny tip of her cane. “I’ll be sure to tell the doctors to

issue more potent ones.” “With much appreciation, Manager.” I bowed. “Go back to work. Now.” I ran towards my workplace through rows of white neon lights. Crisp sound

of dense footsteps echoed through the narrow hallway, yet the sharp sound of her cane is unmistakably loud, piercing through all voices into my ears, my mind. I sprinted through the aligned rows of colleagues and conveyor belts until I found the only empty spot at the edge of the room.

“Quick! Grab one of those monkeys and start checking their functionality.” One of the workers spoke in hushed tone.

I looked at the workers beside me, and quickly followed them. Test solar panels. Reboot A.I. system. Insert program. Hands covering eyes? Checked. Hands covering ears? Checked. Hands covering mouths? Also checked. Done. Test solar panels…

…Phew. Finally. The conveyor belts stopped transferring monkeys. That means I could stretch my twitching hands and move my head to the right, and with precise rhythm and angle between the gastrocnemius muscle and hamstring, hands tied behind like a lock, I marched with hundreds of others to the main entrance of the factory, where we jogged back to our homes nearby. Training you to be fit, they said, for increased agility and flexibility for examining more tedious products. I'd said too much. Or I knew too much.

Why would they be wrong? As the Dementia had said, persistently in her “speech”, constantly interrupting my rightful job. Being an exemplary factory worker was not only the desire of mine, but also the desire of others, and others to come.

And you would have this overwhelmingly elegant boulevard to jog on. Yes, I admitted there’s only one path, quite narrow, with invisible barriers to seclude us from the Outsiders. But it’s fine. I loved watching the fiery leaves spiralling down the maple tree, the crimson rose bushes along the countryside houses, with snow shimmering with cardinal tint from the oval sun. Skyscrapers erected far beyond, touching the cerise clouds, adorned by levitated vehicles. It’s when you reflected and meditated on the gracefulness of life. In this world full of wonders and factories, this, was my aspiration.

This, was my dream. And I’d achieved it. Yet that day arrived, so suddenly, so unforeseen. The day that my mother died, her death report imprinted in my dream before I awoke. I exited my cryogenic pod, stepped out mournfully, then jogged to the factory, with the flowers beside

seemingly dead and sky dimmed. I had never seen my parents, nor expected them to be dead I reported to the Manager’s Office in haste. ”…have to. There’s no choice but to…” I heard whispers in anxious tone.”…my job here to tend

to…can’t afford to stop Them this time…” I knocked. The whispers stopped. “Come in.” “Yes. Great Manager.” I marched in.

“H

Fiction: Group 4

“I assume you have seen it. On your bulletin board.” She was piling up pieces of data. The walls are filled with holograms of various work awards and clips of award-giving ceremonies.

“Yes. Manager.” “Your mother’s funeral is held in Sector ‘SAR 2’. You are going to take the Height Railway to the

sector. Understood?” “But hasn’t Sector ‘SAR 2’ been quaranti…” “Silence!” She stomped her cane in half. Her stare strangled my voice. Her pupils were the colour of

dried blood.” You are doing what I say, with no exception.” “Y…es. Great Ma…nager,” I stared blankly to her furious expression. “I wish not to enter that dreadful place…yet you have to.” I thought I glimpsed a sight of sympathy on her long-frozen face. I rushed back to my spot in the factory, grabbed my identity chip and inserted it in my veins. If I got

lost, Manager could always bring me to safety with this device. Yet I had doubts about where Manager was taking me.

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Sector ”SAR 2” had been quarantined long before I was born, unlike Region “SZ”, where I lived with peaceful workers and citizens outside the barrier. Some unknown virus had spread over the two “SAR”s, turning them to notorious locusts, which would damage our world-renowned…no, there was only one country in the world, after the Third World War …a country, a region, once renowned for agriculture, an amiable weather to the stark contrast of the dreadful north, a plethora of delicacies... So they must have been exiled, exterminated, or have expired.

They had to be. I'd said too much. Or I knew too much. But I had only had I handful of occasions being away from the factory, such as having my limb cut off

accidently by an exposed revolving saw when I was 10; luckily they had prosthetic limbs so perfect that they fit the missing space exactly, and made inserting chips much more convenient. When I was eligible for working in a factory, I left school immediately and had joined the factory ever since. So I was quite interested in what other parts of our country had to offer.

I started to notice the lack of colour, the misty atmosphere, filled with seemingly poisonous substances, which I could tell from the thickness of the outer layers of the train.

After passing through the thick walls of obsidian-like metal, the scenery was even more depressing. The skyscrapers demolished, with smokes still rising from some remnants of those buildings. I looked at Manager, who was sitting at the opposite seat. Her eyes seemed far away, back to the distant past.

“You know, Subject 2047. I wish you had a more beautiful name,” she uttered quietly. I didn’t know what she meant. I had always been Subject 2047, then, now and forever. I slept for a while. There was really not much to see except ashes. We passed through a polluted small

river with the remnants of skyscrapers trailing along it. Finally, we arrived at the terminus. The station was hollow, not even a locust appeared. “Go to the hospital beside the station. I’ll wait for you here” “Yes. Manager.” “No…Call me Lucy.” Her voice somehow softened. “Yes…Lucy” Suddenly, she held my chin up. I was frightened, but her face glowed of warmth for the first time. I

relaxed a bit. “Child, would you smile for me?” Her eyes seemed watery. Weird. But I smiled, the best I could muster. And she smiled back. Even weirder. I stepped out of the train and walked to exit. Just before the train door closed, I thought I heard something. “I’m sorry.” Everything there was dark and gloom. I had to sense my way through the surroundings. The gloom was

thick and creepy. Yet the dilapidated structures and the lack of life bring ominous thought to my mind. At last, I arrived at the hospital.

Fiction: Group 4

It was not hard to find Mother’s room as there’s only one that hadn’t been demolished to the ground. There was a body with white cloth over it, and some candles surrounding it. What was odd is that there were photos showing officials giving speeches and with a language that was

similar but somehow much more complicated than mine. Although some bits were scratched off violently, I could read out a part of the description below them.

“The government has … the timetable to … the … in 2017 in 2007. The … set limits for the 2016 … Council election and 2017 Chief Executive … on 31 … 2014. Yet, some … have doubts … the decision and … a large scale protest called … Central.”

I remembered hearing these phrases somewhere before…from a phone? I remembered these phrase were said, repeated, anxiously, trying to persuade the person on the other end to wake up for this dream.

I lifted the cloth. To discover that there was no face under it. But an amber umbrella. Amber...umbrella. Catchy. I heard steady footsteps behind me. I turned behind and screamed. “Shh…shh…It’s okay. It’s me, Daddy.” He calmed me down with his hands. He was a tall man with a red bandana, and had a wide grin. “Really? You’re my Dad?” I said with excitement. “Yeah, yeah, yeah…And you’re my girl.” He had a sweet voice. “But where’s Mommy?” I questioned. “Mommy is in heaven now, sweetheart. They buried her well to make sure she gets there.” “Now listen carefully. Daddy wants a picture of you, so that Mommy up there can see it and rest in

peace. Okay?” “Okay.” I grabbed the umbrella and held it above my head, acting cute. “Ready…” He pulled out what resembled a large and long camera from his back. “Cheese!” I did my brightest smile, like the one I showed Lucy. The last thing I saw was the red laser dot in front of me. He stared at me with dismal eyes, through the hologram projector on the desk in from of him. All of his

fury had turned to horror. He had no choice but to watch the scene as there was only darkness and unbreakable chains that held him.

“Oh, Eleftheria…my child…why has innocence made you pay the price? … we should not have strived for that pointless referend…” The stone-sharpened blade fell on a precise spot between the neck and the head, with the laser penetrating my brain, leaving nothing but a trail of red.

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Subject 2047. Harrison Bergeron Syndrome. Execution executed.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Canadian International School of Hong Kong, Sneader, Alison - 14, Fiction: Group 4

recariously perched on a wobbly chair gazing out of a small window sits a small, well-aged Man. His well-worn hands placed securely in his lap, his glassy eyes glaze over watching the cars pass by his home. Eventually he rises from his spot by the small window. Before Miguel grew small and aged, he

was a slender, ambitious young man recently arrived in Macau from Portugal.

In the 1950s Miguel and his childhood love wed, sharing dreams of adventure and exploration of a life outside of their home country. Miguel and his bride both shared a passion for education drawing on their freshly minted degrees. The young couple moved to Macau, a then Portuguese colony, to spend their new lives together. Miguel found a job as a schoolteacher, and his wife nurtured their three children until they flew the nest. He and she were in ultimate bliss, living on an Island of a few square miles that they grew to call home.

Miguel can remember the day when things started to change not only for him, but for the whole of Macau. In December of 1999, Macau was handed back to China, as was Miguel and his family – or at least that is how he saw reunification. From that point forward, Miguel became weary of his Macau. On a Monday a new building would appear, and the next day two others. It became clear that a Metropolis was being constructed while he and his old Macau were left to fade away into the embers of history.

Flanked by greed-ridden tourists rushing to Casinos to cash in on a prize, Miguel could hardly recognize his Macau. The Portuguese colony he once loved so much had seemed to transform into a Gambler’s nirvana. Beyond his home a world of change was growing, a world of prosperity, something much bigger than felt comfortable; a place far beyond his control, his humble home slipping away from him before he could fully say goodbye. Miguel was not alone in facing the consequences of change. Sixty-five kilometres and a ferry ride away from the Gambling Sanctuary, Wai-ling looked fixedly out of the acres of glass surrounding his sleek 56th floor office in the heart of Shenzhen. On his desk lay an array of sticky-notes each bearing a time and place for Wai-ling to arrive. Sitting atop the desk also lay a few pens and pencils, a large state-of-the art computer, a calendar and wooden picture frames enclosing grainy sepia toned photographs.

In the first photo, a young man in his late twenties is holding a new born baby. The man’s smile stretches from ear to ear, his eyes creasing upwards in the same manner of a child given the key to a chocolate factory. Beaming down at his young child, it seemed as if nothing in the world could make him upset in that moment. Wai-ling knows this man. For the man in the photo is none other than his father. This photo was Wai-ling’s favourite of snap of his father, Sin-Feng.

Throughout his life, Wai-Ling had listened to Sin-Feng’s tales of the old Shenzhen, before it was the metropolis that exists today. Sin-Feng lived in Shenzhen for his entire life and the years had provided ample time for him to acquire a set of stories that means there was always another anecdote up his sleeve. Wai-Ling remembers Sin-Feng telling him of his Fisherman past. In the 1970s, the main source of income was through the fishing business, he remembers his father recalling. Wai-Ling reminisces of his father’s chuckle. Indeed, a smile crosses his lips as his mind wanders to tales from a time when Shenzhen’s population was a mere 30,000 in vivid contrast to today’s 14 million.

By definition, Sin-Feng told him, Shenzhen truly was a traditional Chinese fishing village. Reed walkways connected little Reed huts into which all of the Fishermen would gather in the afternoon. What a difference from the skyscrapers that a mere 40 years later house businessmen like Wai-ling.

P

Fiction: Group 4

Shenzhen’s place in history results from its status as one of the first Special Economic Zones. It was considered a testing ground for development of a new path to the future, residing near to the quickly developing Hong Kong. Wai-ling remembers his father laughing at the very thought of Shenzhen as a major city. His youth featured much of his Father’s tales of the past. Yet he simply could not comprehend why history could amuse his Father so much.

However, as Wai-ling progressed through his youth his Father’s various comical reactions seemed to become heart-warming. The advanced and modern Shenzhen he had been raised in was a new world. It was an alien city built upon the same soil Sin-Feng had walked upon, and he found it amusing how things could change. How could this city be built in such a short time? Wai-Ling chuckled to himself, alone inside his office. His father had now been deceased for five years; but instead of sad thoughts, thoughts of love and respect rushed to his mind. Comparing his lifestyle, working in the technology frontier and his Father’s at his age, fishing in the harbour seemed a long way from the reality that now marked Wai-ling’s life. Shenzhen may have experienced the greatest physical change in all of the Pearl River Delta. But, Canton’s Fragrant Harbour sits on the Southern Coast of China and has also evolved considerably since it’s days as a trading post.

Among Hong Kong’s many stationary shops, in Wanchai stands a man at the cash desk giving change to a customer. Friendly goodbyes are exchanged as the customer leaves the shop. Smiling to himself, the shop owner looks around his small store proudly. His eyes drift down the aisle of colourful pens, the alluring fluorescent highlighters and the sharp pencils ready to pierce any page. Letting his eyes drift dreamily towards the folders, stacked in colour according to the rainbow he is in paradise. Although any customer may pick up on the white paint peeling off of the walls, or the crack in the left corner of the doorframe, no one could deny the stationary was immaculately ordered and kept. This was his craft, and although some would underestimate him by his occupation, to him there was nothing he would rather do.

Over the past twenty years, business had been good and the shop had prospered. It was without a doubt that as the city of Hong Kong became wealthier, life had changed. A rising tide does lift all boats. Now, at the ripe age of sixty he was ready to retire.

The love and passion that Fang had for his beloved store was still there. In many respects, he could

not think of letting it go. But he also felt there was unlikely to be a better time to stand aside. With the success of his shop he had been able to pay for each of his three children to receive an enviable Education, one that had enabled each of them to mature into bright and open-minded adults. He felt it was an understatement to say he was a proud father. Each child had achieved success and all three were working in the City’s financial district.

Fang believed that he had turned all of his hopes from dreams into reality and that he had won the race in the pursuit of Happiness. His stationary store to him was like Romeo to Juliet, Mark Antony to Cleopatra or Adam to Eve.

Three men, three different lives in three different parts of the Pearl River Delta: one looking back on a simpler time before change arrived in Macau; a second reminiscing about his father yet looking forward to the future in a transformed Shenzhen; a third turning the page on a career as a shop owner who has thrived in the transformation of Hong Kong into one of the world’s great financial centres.

Their stories are tales of change and progress. The Pearl River Delta continues to evolve and with it more stories will emerge. But underneath, some constants remain: a people who believe in hard work and family; a place rich in natural resources and attractive to many; an economic zone with huge potential for further growth. From Macau to Shenzhen to Hong Kong, three lives lived in the midst of great change.

Fiction: Group 4

Epidemic of "The Future God" Cheung Chuk Shan College, Lam, Ting Hin - 15, Fiction: Group 4

uturer, a kid born in China in 3000, he had yellowish skin, dark hair and glittering eyes. He was hardened and had an ambitious plan. He lived in a slum in City Number twelve along the Pearl River Delta. He was poor but positive. Although his life was being controlled, he still waited for

freedom to come. Slum City Number twelve was responsible for making weapons, it was located at the southern part of the Pearl River Delta. It also contained huge amount of guards, and escape seemed impossible. Thirteen years ago, a monster silently appeared on the delta river and began to devour it step by step. The monster was so called "God of The Future". It was as large as a giant, as mythic as a ghost and as strong as a great lion. He was three times taller and four times wider than a human. Everybody around the Pearl River Delta knew that it lived in the cave at the end of the river. He struck the surrounding countries and devoured them, turning the cities into his kingdom; He destroyed everything in the river region and just constructed twelve slums to trap the villagers. In order to maintain his energy, he had to consume one hundred villagers per day. Although everyone knew of his terror, they still treated the slums as their accommodation, even though they realized their slums weren't safe at all, nobody had the courage to break into the cave and challenge the monster as it could be in vain, until one day...... "Take your food and scram back to your prison!" The food distributor shouted. Everybody in City Number 12 queued up and silently waited for the food, including Futurer and his friends, Dolly and Porek. Futurer's parents died 15 years before because of the rubric of "The Future God", which means his parents were killed when fighting with the monster and were consumed. Before Futurer's parents' died, they said," Without changes, the future will just be the future, everything will remain the same." At the age of three, Futurer certainly couldn't understand the meaning of this phrase, but these words were still in his mind specifically, persistently and thoroughly. On the other hand, it was not just City Number twelve, other cities around the Pearl River Delta would randomly pick three persons and put them in the same prison and that's why Futurer, Dolly and Porek met. Near the river, there were enormous antiquated factories that produced bombs, tanks and missiles. The schedules of them were generally the same every day --- Making missiles, eating, sleeping had become mainly the three things they must do. Their life in City Number 12 seemed peaceful, but actually no one lived joyfully and some of the villagers, including Futurer, Dolly and Porek, weren't satisfied with the strict rules and the restrictive life, so they started to get to know one another during lunch hour. They firstly just discussed the uneasy and insensible life they had, after a few months, they discussed something totally different. "This place is just like a horrible and mythic jail," a villager shouted, "There are loyal monster soldiers everywhere, they always stay besides you and supervise your activities, making you live like a slave!" Abruptly, Futurer yelled, " I can't adapt to this living environment and come to terms with my parents' death, it's totally unacceptable." Although everyone was shocked at first, they sobered down and give the nod to Futurer. During the several weeks, they were planning to break into the monster's palace, returning everything back to normal. However, breaking into the palace was not as easy as they thought, it was the most challenging act in the world. There were plenty of towers at which over one thousand soldiers were stationed. It was not easy to get there. Inside the palace, there was a huge number of gates and there were petty methods to enter it. The fact that let them down most was the palace was constructed far away from City Number twelve, and the distance was nearly fifty kilometres.

F

Fiction: Group 4

Although things went unsatisfactory, Futurer and his friends' passion and keen determination wouldn't be easily overridden. They tried to group up all the villagers to manage the weapons and necessities they needed during working hours. After a few weeks, they finished their products swiftly and were planning to get out of City Number twelve. They planned their strategies efficiently. Finally, the big day came. Futurer turned out to be the leader and he took his vows that he must put all of his effort to encounter the difficulties and avoid any unnecessary jeopardy. Everyone felt confident in their plans, and fled from City Number twelve according to the plan without a second thought. After the escape, over ten percent of the villagers were killed by lazar guns. This fact lowered the morale of the army. When the villagers felt worried and disappointed, Futurer announced, "Everybody: the common failing of war is panic and fear, if we aspire to win, we can succeed. We should win the war and give the honor to the dead villagers, do you understand?" All the villagers and Dolly as well as Porek seemed to be spurred on. They understood their miserable plight, they made out that they couldn't go back anymore and they distinctly found out there's only one solution. It was to hunt down the "Future God". At the moment, they didn't hesitate, all they had to do was to follow Futurer's steps and carry out the assault, like an unstoppable blade. Futurer knew that his pressure and burden was huge, but he didn't shrink down. He immediately accounted for the remaining plans to his army. "In the coming path, there will be numerous towers which we had to take down. Enemies contained unpredictable number of high-tech weapons and we couldn't enter the tower in the front gate and fight......" Futurer interpreted. Suddenly, a man mumbled, "So how do we win?" Futurer continued, "Don't feel anxious, I haven't finished yet. I have a strategy without injury." Everybody was astonished, "How many missiles and bombs do we have?" Futurer asked. "Almost 200!" Porek reported. "That's good. We will use bomb attack. I guessed 20 bombs can destroy an enemy tower. We will all stay at the top of the mountain and give them a surprised attack." Futurer decided. They continued to discuss for a few hours and finally they had a common understanding. In the following few weeks, Futurer and his army took down nine towers. The process was quite smooth, the death toll was not too large, like a ship driving downstream smoothly, without obstacles. However, since they arrived the tenth tower, everything changed. It turned out to be more and more challenging. Although the shape, size and enemies in the tower were approximately similar to the previous ones, there was an iron cover above the tower: which caused their plans to fail. Without any choices, they must enter the tower at the front door and counteract the monsters. Then, a war was initiated: this time the price was so costly. Two friends of Futurer and nearly three-fourth of the villagers died. Surprisingly, without any hesitation, Futurer guided the remaining warriors, they equipped themselves and pressed on towards on the kingdom of "Future God". When they reached the battlefield, they immediately saw their target. The monster was sitting above the top of the kingdom, smirking at them, mumbled: "You are quite brave, you really have the courage to resist me. But that's ok, I will use my finger tips to pinch you off and cut you into two halves." In this case, their plan may be suitable. The monster anticipated, used a spear to strike against the villagers and they lay down one by one, they didn't have any power to hit back. This was a perfect timing for Futurer to set sticky bombs around the kingdom and entered a deeper part of the palace to smash the ruby which was the heart of the monster, Futurer placed a bomb over there and quickly got out. He confidently told the monster, "After today, everything will change, everything will start again and everything that happened now will come to an end." As soon as he finished, he pressed the button, the ruby and the kingdom smashed down, as well as the monster. Rain was falling down, then the sky went blue, the remnants and all the fences around other cities disappeared, the villagers became free...... Since then everyone around the Pearl River Delta continued to farm, fish, living in a carefree area and no one forgot this war until another epidemic emerged......

Fiction: Group 4

The Tale of Peter Peak

Cheung Chuk Shan College, Leung, Kam Yan - 15, Fiction: Group 4

t the very beginning of 2015, the people living in the Pearl River Delta region, including me, had a mutual wish. We wanted to raise our living standards in the coming New Year. The Pearl River Delta has been engaging in manufacturing and foreign trade in the past decades. On the other hand,

stressing on high-tech industry was more likely to be the trend. We were eager to have a change and enjoy another refreshed mode of life. Finally, the citizens decided to nominate one person as the leader of Pearl River Delta who was responsible for giving useful but extraordinary suggestions in order to enhance the development of Pearl River Delta. It was unbelievable that no one was willing to be the leader. Most of them worried that once they made a wrong suggestion, and once it had been implemented, the development of Pearl River Delta would be slowed down. Thus, not many people dared to apply for the job of being the leader. I am currently studying in the Art stream at college. I am good at oil painting and sketching. Unlike me, my father mainly studied science when he was an adolescent. After graduating from school, Dad became a mechanical engineer who liked taking small things into deep investigation and creating new objects. One day, he told me that his colleague, Peter, was interested in being the leader of Pearl River Delta. The news did not surprise me because I heard from Dad that Peter was an enthusiastic person who was keen on inventing machines too. He was an even more experienced engineer than Dad. A week after his application, Peter officially became the leader of this region. From then on, I could no longer call him Peter. Peter’s full name is actually Peter Peak. I think this surname suits him very well as the top of his head is sharp in shape like a mountain. The lifestyle of Mr. Peak had changed a lot since he became the leader. He was always busy working in his office which was located in the centre of the Pearl River Delta. However, we could not meet him immediately if we wanted. The only way of calling out Mr. Peak is to reserve enough solar energy. If the amount of solar power absorbed from sunlight reaches a point that it is capable of generating electricity to supply the needs of 100 families’ daily use, the office will be unlocked. I guess this is a way of letting us rely on new energy instead of burning fuels that is creating air pollution. Suddenly, Mr. Peak came up with a strange idea. He suggested building fences along and around the outline boundaries of the Pearl River Delta region. Part of the citizens and me were confused and even dissatisfied with such a decision. As building fences is not necessary and it requires a lot of woods. It would result in cutting down of trees. But the main concern was that we could not find Mr. Peak directly and ask him about the construction work. Hence, I was planning with my neighbors to install some solar panels on the roofs of all the houses, aiming at collecting enough sunlight to produce solar energy. I was being alone at home as both of my parents had gone out to watch a musical. They would not be back until midnight. I was hungry and I realized I should dine out because no one would cook the dinner for me. On my way to the restaurant from home, I met Molly, who was same age as me. We are close neighbors living near to each other. After saying ‘hello’, the first thing we talked was about building fences around The Pearl River Delta. She obviously did not support the issue. So, we discussed further on it. ‘Next to the office there is a special indicator. It is used for measuring the amount of collected sunlight for generating electricity.’ said Molly. ‘In order to meet the official, Mr. Peak, and against his decision, we will go for it! But what should we do?’ I asked. ‘We’d better buy as many solar panels as possible and invite plenty of professionals to help us.’ Molly answered.

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Molly and I cooperated with other citizens as well. Before midnight, when my parents returned, all the roofs appeared differently with a square-patterned blue broad board on it. The installation was done! I thought to myself, ‘Tomorrow must be a sunny day! I believe a whole day is enough to store tones of solar energy.’ Every one of us was looking forward to the coming of another day. One of the housewives, Mrs. Hung, said excitedly, ‘let’s wait for the morning and see what the rewards of our efforts will be!’ It was about at around noon on the next day. There were hardly any kids to be found in the park because the sun shone intensively brightly. For me, it was not uncomfortable at all. Instead, I totally felt that the sunlight was warm. I was waiting, for the solar panels to be fully ‘charged’. My phone suddenly rang. ‘Hello,’ I said. ‘Hello, Daisy. I’m Ella. I want to tell you that the indicator shown has exceeded half of the requirement! That is, the solar power can supply domestic electricity required to sustain fifty families.’ said Ella. ‘But we still need the remaining half!’ I replied. ‘Alright! The weather is very fine today. Storing energy for 100 families is not a problem.’ Ella seemed confident. Unfortunately, weather is fickle. While I was enjoying my afternoon tea and watching TV program, the sky turned grey and rain fell down continuously. The sunlight is not shiny as today’s morning. It did not seem to stop raining. We did not expect rainfall to occur either so we brought no umbrella. The outcome was that most of our citizens got drenched. However, we did not prefer deferring the day of meeting Mr. Peak because the case was urgent. We could not tolerate the act of cutting down thousands of trees to extract wood for building fences. It is of course unfriendly to our environment. Thus, we should tell Mr. Peak that building fences around the Pearl River Delta is not reasonable. ‘We are going to reject it as early as possible! How can it rain? We must get enough energy!’ I said firmly. The sky changed once more. We saw the sun again. Consequently, Ella, Molly, other citizens and I set off to the office to check the indicator. We were glad to see it touch the peak at sunset. As the same time, the door of the office opened automatically. We ran into the office at once and searched for Mr. Peak. ‘Daisy, what’s the matter why do you come to me?’ I heard a deep voice calling me. I turned around and saw a sharp-headed man. He was Mr. Peak, who we had been exactly looking for. I replied, ‘I wonder why you suggested building fences around the Pearl River Delta.’ ‘I don’t know why too. Building fences will disturb the transportation.’ Molly added. Ella wanted to say something too. ‘It will also affect foreign trade. It will make us disconnect with other cities, provinces and countries.’ I bravely spoke, ‘Mr. Peak, let me ask you. What are the fences made of?’ ‘Wood,’ he answered quickly. ‘That means you are going to cut down lots of trees?’ I continued to ask. ‘Yes,’ he said.

Fiction: Group 4

‘But trees are valuable natural resources. Sacrificing trees for fences is a kind of waste. I suggest you cut down trees to produce paper for study purposes rather than that! I really want to know what inspired you to carry out such a strange idea.’ I said. Mr. Peak explained, ‘I don’t mean to specialize and separate the region from all other places. Actually, I just think that with the addition of the fences, the local citizens can fling themselves into their lives without much external intervention. I gave a response, ‘I don’t think so. I just believe that Pearl River Delta, where we live, would be significant when seen on maps after the construction. This is the only one advantage.’ ‘Are you sure you want to carry out the construction work, Mr. Peak?’ Long being silent, Ella said something again. ‘Yes, I used to be an engineer. I’ve made use of the skills to invent ten robots for helping with the work. They’ll be ready tonight.’ answered Mr. Peak seriously. ‘Is the construction work done by your robots?’ I asked. ‘Certainly, nearly all the complicated and repeated procedures and work has been done by the robots. The more they have contributed, the more intelligent they have become. When one of the robots successfully completes a task, it gains double of skills than before inside its brain and body. Thus, it is probable that the robots will become even cleverer than humans. When I designed the robots, I didn’t pay much attention to their appearance. They are identically one meter in height and simply covered by silver layers. They look ordinary but have enormous strength. Though the robots do not contain muscles like a human, they can lift up and transfer heavy things like refrigerators, motor cars, etc. at high speed without getting hurt and tired. Robots are powerful, their skills can bring incredible convenience and efficiency to us!’ said Mr. Peak. ‘Not at all, the robots can be extremely troublesome and dangerous if you cannot control them! But have you confirmed and set what is to be done by them?’ I asked. ‘Yes, I have set them tasks. Tonight, they will start working by firstly cutting down trees. The robots will keep doing this until the mission is finished without stopping.’ Mr. Peak explained. ‘What? Then how should I stop them?’ I was puzzled. ‘By entering the password in any one of the robots’ bodies, then all the robots will stop their operation.’ answered Mr. Peak calmly. ‘Quickly tell us the password!’ I could not wait any longer. ‘Oh, I’m sorry that I’ve forgotten.’ Mr. Peak apologized. The conversation with Mr. Peak ended. I left the office with disappointment with the other citizens. ‘No matter how, we should find out where the robots is locating and stop them from working.’ I insisted. Molly said: ‘I think they are staying in the countryside, preparing for cutting trees.’ ‘You are right. Let’s go!’ I agreed. When we were at the entrance of the country park, the sky had turned darker. Another night had come. Despite any difficulties, we promised that we would not return home until we found the robots. After walking around for an hour, I discovered that a middle-sized eye-catching robot was holding an axe and was going to strongly hit and destroy the tree. Without any hesitation, I rushed desperately toward it and pushed the axe over to the ground. I saw there was a lock on the back of the robot. I remembered Mr. Peak

Fiction: Group 4

having said that the password contains five different alphabets. I was in a hurry that I could think of nothing. So I randomly inputted ‘R-O-B-O-T’ but it failed. Then I tried the converse of ‘robot’, that was ‘T-O-B-O-R’. All of a sudden, the robot gradually became inactive and finally stopped. In our excitement, we went back to the office to find Mr. Peak. We were out of happiness that we forgot that we had to regain sufficient solar power to open the office. It was almost midnight. Though we seemed to be interrupting Mr. Peak, I tried to knock the door. Unexpectedly, the door was loose and it was not locked. Mr. Peak was sleeping originally. Later he was awoken by our footsteps. Mr. Peak looked sleepy but he said a lot of things. ‘I’ve known from the computer that the robots have just been defeated and lost their function. So, the construction cannot be done. Actually, building fences around Pearl River Delta is not my suggestion. It’s just a special way to test all of your degree of awareness towards this region. Finally, the result proved you all are good citizens because all of you are willing to fight against the irrational and shoot for an ideal environment. Moreover, the condition is not real.’ ‘What condition?’ Molly asked. Mr. Peak answered with laughter, ‘In order to encourage our citizens to use renewable energy, I set the condition of meeting me to be storing enough solar energy. In fact, this office is always opened, even in the evening like now.’ Since that, we treasure every natural resource, especially trees in Pearl River Delta. We are also trying to replace fossil fuels with new and clear energy, maintaining a ‘green’ life.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Cheung Chuk Shan College, Wong, Wing Hei Carmen - 16, Fiction: Group 4

am Louis. My friends called me Chun. I moved to Shenzhen a year ago. Back in Shaanxi, my friend Bun was always blabbering about the city as he ruffled his messy hair, about how getting there is the only way to succeed. I never paid much attention to his talk of city life. I never

thought much of it, knowing it would only make me reminisce over the memories of the event that I tucked back in my mind. My parents always wanted me to take over the farmland and help with chores. Deep down, I wanted to get out of this rural town and experienced urban life, actually the life in Hong Kong, the famous city that Mr. Lam, my mentor at school, came from. But when I mentioned this idea at 15, things did not go as planned. Hair dampened with sweat from running home from school, excited and eager to share my “vision”, I barged into the door without hesitation and the detailed idea flew out of my mouth. Father was sitting at the wooden and tarnished table we dined at. Mother was dishing out the Bok Choy and Deep Fried Pig Intestine. Their smiles froze. Father glowered at me. Mother’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Frowning, her deep wrinkles became more obvious than usual. Father staggered up with barely contained anger and I still blathered on, oblivious to their response. That’s when he slapped me. My face stung from the impact, burning red. Reeling from the slap, I saw the clear picture that had all along hid right beneath my eyes. Father’s graying hair and thinning body. A simple movement required more effort than before. He was holding onto the table corner for support after his furious outburst. His eyes were creased with lines though they still shone with the same intensity and determination. Unspoken words flowed through us. And I saw the reason he hit me. He did not raise me to be a heartless layman who abandoned his origin. Most important of all, I saw his fear of losing me. Mother was frail. Her thin frame made more fragile by her thinning silver hair. The house was damp and the little furniture we had was worn and aged. The bok choy that we ate was withered and yellowish green although they came from our land. Since then, I shoved that idea aside and covered it with layers of sunken memories . I did not want my parents to feel upset. Father was old and back pain burdened him, slowing down his work at the fields. I ought to take over the land one day. They were too poor to send me away anyway. 2 years later, at the National Higher Education Entrance System, I still applied for Sun Yat-Sen University in Guangzhou, in the hope of being in the cosmopolitan Pearl River Delta and closer to the metropolitan city of Hong Kong. Even though I knew it was just a dream that would never come true. Of course I got admitted due to my good performance in the examination. Yet I knew I could never abandon my parents in this state, not if I wanted my parents to stay healthy and the farmland to be revitalized. But one day in late August, five months after my graduation from college, my mother handed me a train ticket. I took it, surprised, shocked to be precise, to see “Sun Yat-sen University Station” printed as the destination on the ticket “Go,” she said. “But the farmland …” “Your dad and I will take care of it,” She held me tight by my shoulders, discreet but visible sadness masked her wrinkled face, “Go find your life.” Worried yet eager with anticipation, I took a bumpy train ride for five hours and arrived at Guangzhou. As soon as I stepped off the train, I felt dazed. People crowded the platform, each moving about with clear aim in a quick pace. Noises swarmed my ears. What a contrast to hometown. The vibrancy stunned me. In the crowd, I spotted Bun who moved here a year ago. He looked very different from the old scruffy boy that I had known since I was a kid. He dyed his hair golden. They were sticking out in all directions. He wore oversize T-shirts and pants. A metal necklace hung around his neck and his arms were marred with tattoos. A cigarette in mouth, he smirked at me. He greeted me with a bear hug, just like we used to, then he proceeded to ruffle my hair and messed up the hairstyle that mother combed for me unexpectedly that morning. “Welcome to the city, bro!” He draped his arm over my shoulder, “Finally heeding my advice and leaving the wasteland?” He laughed like this was a secret joke.

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Fiction: Group 4

I mumbled a few words, not sure how to tell him how much I love Shaanxi. Despite my eagerness to live a city life, I will always remember my home town. I looked at him and felt a gap between us. I brushed it aside, not wanting to overreact and dwell on this. He became my roommate and my guide in this metro city buzzing with vibrancy. We did a lot of things during my first week here. School hadn’t started yet so we spent our day roaming through the city. Every nook and corner was discovered and explored. Bun bought me a skateboard so we could speed through the city maze. It was also a cheap means of transport. What astounded me the most was the feverish night life. Irritatingly bright neon signs lit up the street late at night. Pubs and bars played loud rock music and people chilled out, dancing to the beat or chatting loudly with friends and strangers alike. The openness and senselessness was so different from home where night was a quiet time when most people kept to themselves and their loved ones only. Another major difference would be the air. Here, I breathed in polluted smog. At home, it was the clean fresh smell of soil. Not because there were no cars back home but because there was not as much exhaust-emitting sources as here. When I asked Bun did he find the air smoggy and hazed, he laughed half-heartedly like I just asked something stupid, “Well, you are in ‘the world’s factory’, Chun,” he ruffled my hair playfully, “ the nearest factory is just a few kilometers away!” Somehow, the big contrast between Guangzhou and home made me feel energized and homesick at the same time. The semester started in September and I spent my day between school and the part-time waiter job that Bun found me at the Ah Kun Teochew restaurant. Mr. Chan, my boss from Chaozhou, was strict but caring. He knew I was busy with schoolwork so sometimes he let me do my revision during non-rush hours. However, I felt his wary eyes on me at times. I wondered why. A lot of my colleagues were girls. They all seemed friendly and loved talking to me. I found out they all loved shopping, especially after receiving pay. They bought loads of accessories, clothes and shoes. But I didn’t plan to use up my hard-earned salary at once. I would save up and buy a huge house for my parents to live in one day. Now that I was busy, Bun got off to hang out with some friends that all have tattoos and blonde hair. When I returned to our apartment from work, I sometimes saw them drunk, smoking and playing cards. After a few encounters, I knew some of their names but I did not want to engage with them any further. They seemed like thugs, people in gangs and triads. Even though I had my suspicions, I knew Bun. He knew right from wrong, black from white. Surely he wouldn’t be that naïve and made friends with thugs. Besides, he was kind enough to share an apartment with me, find me a job and show me around. I would be rude to confront him over his choice of friends. Spending time at school also found me a new group of friends. Hailey, from Australia was an exchange student whom I sat next to in class. Although we had different cultural backgrounds, we had fun together and quickly become good friends. Ajmal, from Pakistan, spoke fluent Cantonese. We lived and worked in the same neighborhood so we were always together. He treated me to the exotic food from his country. I think I may have a new favorite dish: Chicken Karahi! But the most interesting person I met was definitely Erin. She came from Hong Kong. She had a pixie cut, which outlined her beautiful face. Her sparkling eyes were bright as was her person. She had a witty humor. Everything seemed funny and right when it came from her mouth. I could never be in a bad mood with her around, always making me laugh. She was a calm and patient listener. As I shared my problems with her, I felt consoled by her presence. She faced obstacles too but she tried to hide them from others, masked it with her usual carefree laugh. I just wish I could comfort her the same way she comforted me and lighten her spirits the same way she lightened mine. I snapped back into reality and sighed as I bid Ajmal goodbye at the backdoor of the restaurant. I was an hour early because Professor Chiu was absent today. Mr. Chan probably wouldn’t mind. I pushed open the heavy door unexpectedly, then I saw a mob of blonde hair in front of me, all holding daggers with blades so

Fiction: Group 4

shiny that light flickered around in the restaurant. Mr. Chan was throwing up his hands and arguing with the leader of the tattooed. “What the…” I started and clamped my mouth shut. Too late. They all turned around swiftly, staring at the idiot who just barged into their business: me. That’s when I saw Bun, right behind the leader of the pack, gripping his own silvery dagger. His brown eyes set onto mine, pupils dilating. He was stunned to see me there but I doubt he would be as shell-shocked as me to witness my childhood friend about to participate in gang murder. Turned out I was the naïve one, who believed in him blindly, who thought he would make the right choices and be a righteous person. I thought I knew him. I thought he could tell right from wrong, black from white. I was wrong, naïve. We held each other’s gazes until a gruff growl zapped us back. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” “I …” “He is a friend of mine. I would take him out.” Bun interrupted. “Be quick,” the man snarled, “and next time, make better friends who don’t interrupt me in the middle of something important,” The rest of the gang chortled as Bun’s face turned to a beetroot red. He pushed his ways towards me and pulled me by the arm,” Let’s go!” he hissed at me As soon as we were out of their sight, I stopped him,” What were you doing?” I said through gritted teeth. “Taking you as far away as possible,” he replied like it’s a matter of fact. “Why were you with them?” I held him tight by his shoulders and shook him violently, “Who are you?!” “You won’t understand,” he replied passively, “Now come with me.” “That’s because you won’t tell me!” I shook out of his grip. “Chun, listen to me. I am a year older than you so just do as I say and go!” he tried to grab hold of me again. “Just tell me the truth!” I was frustrated. “Fine, I got kicked out of university last semester, but I can’t tell my parents. You weren’t here. I had no friends and I went drinking every night.” He sighed and rubbed his temple, “They helped me got through and realized life isn’t over just because I am not going to college. I owed them.” “You knew they were wrong!” I looked at him with disbelief, “yet you chose to stay with them!” I shook my head in disgust at the thought. “I can’t turn back now. I’m one of them.” He stared at me with a subtle coldness. He showed me his tattoos, “These can’t be washed away. Ever.” We stared at each other. Unspoken words would have flowed between us in past occasions but this time there was only cold silence. Being stronger and more muscular than me, he half dragged me to our block. “Go!” Bun pushed me forward. I stumbled as I headed into the lobby. He glared at me until I entered the lift. Bing! The lift doors closed and I was alone, drowned in my own thoughts. I could never pull him back. He was past the edge of the cliff. The lift came to a halt. I entered our apartment. As I stepped in, I realized I couldn’t live here anymore. Bun and I were too different. Too big a disparity to be friends anymore. Apparently we had dreams and aspirations in completely opposite directions. I could not bear to see him falling deeper and deeper into the black hole that he could accidentally drawn in. I could not stand and watch him wretched at heart and strangled breathless by this madness. I packed my belongings in a rush, not wanting to let Bun know, and called Ajmal after zipping up my luggage. “Hey, this is Louis. I need a place to stay for a while. Can I stay at your place?” “Sure. I will meet you half an hour later at your block.” I thanked him and hung up. I sat in the armchair, thinking about the past. It Seemed like last year we were running through fields, swimming in the lake, enjoying our life. We didn’t have much but we were happy, simply content with life. Everything was simple, black and white, not so many shades of gray, not so many thin lines that once crossed, can never be retraced. Relationships were sprouted from understanding and respect, not debts that can never be paid. Now in the city, loads of stimulating sensations exploding in every direction, but life is not so simple anymore. Even if Bun had not met those thugs, we would grow apart somehow. Our attitudes towards city and country life were varied. He believed living in the Pearl River Delta was energetic, real. I loved it too but home would always hold a position in my heart. The region was one with vibrancy and unlimited potential, kneaded with different cultures and races, a fusion of western

Fiction: Group 4

styles and Chinese tradition. It would be a heavenly place if people weren’t pushed over the edges and conformed by endless norms in society, if people were just simpler at mind, more easily contented. Rural life was a break from reality, an oasis in the city desert. Together, they complemented each other so that the Pearl River Delta could shine in this world. My phone rang, Ajmal called. He had arrived to give news of a the beginning of a new chapter in my life.

Fiction: Group 4

The Life of Shing Kung Cheung Chuk Shan College, Yiu, Hing Wah - 15, Fiction: Group 4

r. Kwok was a real estate tycoon who owned a large property empire. With the help of his partner, Mr. Wong, the substantial growth of his company was foreseeable. In this way he could smell the lovely, unique odor of money coming into his pocket.

‘I deserve more than these notes.’ he mumbled whilst smirking. It had been twenty years since he first started this glorious company, Shing Kung Limited. With ambition and determination, he resolutely founded the company in Shenzhen. He named it ‘Shing Kung’, hoping that success would soon knock on his door. Favored by the government’s ‘Opening-up and Reforms’ policy and his own management talents, the firm had been consistently growing in size under the nurture of Mr. Kwok. The company had come across all sorts of crises and worn so many halos, from local to international. Nowadays, this mighty-leading enterprise dominated the property market in the Pearl River Delta, so impregnable that nobody had ever thought of it to be the next doomed Titanic one day. When he was studying in high school, he had been determined to become a world-leading businessman and to make a great fortune, money always offered him a sense of confidence and security. With money and authority, he could command others to work for him; he could roar to others when he was in a temper; and more importantly, he could buy as many luxurious goods as he wanted. He couldn’t help clothing himself in decent suits and appreciating his gorgeous watches. This passion for money had governed his whole life. He regarded it as a crucial criterion of becoming a successful business giant. Wasn’t it an enjoyment when people stared at your fascinating outfit with envious peeks as you gracefully stepped out of a streamlined sports car?

For all his life, he had been wearing suits, from worthless ones gradually to priceless ones. Although he was Chinese, he had become hooked on suits from an early age. To Mr. Kwok, suit had momentous meanings to him as he won through the hardship throughout his university life with his grey suit— he constantly traveled between Hong Kong and China in a bid to dig up his first gold to set up a company. Till now, even though he thought he had arrived, the craving for wealth had never halted in his mind. How to earn even more money? This was the utmost question devoting him to ponder upon every day. Then he came up with a brilliant idea—to minimize the construction budget as much as he could! Smiling smugly at his office, he summoned his secretary, telling her he was going to hold an urgent meeting and ordering her to assemble all the top managers. ‘I am glad that you all came to this meeting.’ He slowly and aggressively exchanged glances with the eight top managers. Alright. No more than ten at the meeting. Being a big fan of Apple, he audaciously applied the management tactics of Steve Jobs. All he did was to raise the efficiency and reduce the operational costs. Surely, this would help him make more money! ‘As we all know, our company is embarking on a new project—No.24 Villa. As usual, saving on costs is always our top priority. Any suggestions?’ Mr. Kwok asked with an encouraging smile.

‘Based on the past experiences, we have been adopting the policies regarding the construction workers and materials from Mainland China, including the previous project - the Deep Water Residential Project in Sham Shui Po. Indeed, it significantly cut down one-third of our original budget. So, why don’t we adopt the same approach this time?’ Tony, the coordinator of the Deep Water Residential Project, suggested. Lower construction fee, that’s what I look for. He thought to himself and nodded his head slightly.

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‘How could this be? Didn’t you watch the recent news of the jerry-built project? The building materials are of low quality. They are hardly resistant to stress. Our company has long been having a good reputation. If any accident occurs due to the use of cost-saving yet inferior materials, it will inevitably tarnish our image and erode our credibility.’ Alex, the manager of Customer Service Department, argued. ‘Quality of service is definitely one of our concerns. Yet, our prime concern is always to push the profit to the highest. There hasn’t been any related accident so far. So we shall adhere to our principle. Let’s go for your idea, Tony.’ Mr. Kwok attempted to end this conversation up with a wide grin on his face as he can image people handing money to him in turn. Time elapsed swiftly, like the daily rotation of the earth, inconspicuous yet irreversible. Six months after the meeting, just before Christmas, the No.24 Villa Project had come to a satisfactory completion which brought a lovely spring back to Mr. Kwok’s face, making him look as if he was in his thirties, energetic and motivated. The opening ceremony of the property was held in the morning. In front of the makeshift stage, a long red carpet was rolled out for the visited guests. While he was moving at his usual stately pace with his head held high, proud and confident, everybody began clapping. While enjoying rounds of applause, Mr. Kwok saw his partner, Mr. Wong, wave his hand and mouth ‘Congratulations!’ ‘Is everything going well?’ Mr. Kwok asked the manager who rushed to him. ‘Yes, except for one thing. A group of protesters assembled outside the ceremony and accused us of compulsory land acquisition.’ He uneasily pointed at the back of Mr. Kwok and whispered. ‘Calm down! We haven’t done anything wrong. You have done very well so far. Someone will soon settle it.’ Mr. Kwok said while patting him on the shoulder. As expected, the police swiftly arrived and those cynical and irrational protesters were ejected for creating a disturbance and were charged with unlawful assembly. This scene triggered Mr. Kwok to recall a memory of having a pleasant dinner with several government officials and exchanging ideas regarding the future economic development blueprint. He could still remember clearly the smirk on their faces when receiving his cheque and stashing it inside their pockets hastily. In return, they guaranteed the success of this project. It is money, the omnipotent existence, which played an important role in empowering future success, he thought. For the sake of multiplying his wealth, he decisively entered the unpredictable stock market game, hoping that the principles of levers could amaze him with excellent result. The candy he tasted in the beginning motivated him to invest more. Since then, he was addicted to the stock market, so deep that he sold not only his posh cars and yachts, but also most of his properties. Just when Mr. Kwok rolled up his sleeves and was ready to get busy, a global financial tsunami swept through the world economy as if the grave winter had come. All at once the market experienced panic selling. As Mr. Kwok looked vacantly at the screen, his mouth slacked and he was totally dumbstruck. He collapsed and fell unconsciously. The only words in his mind were ‘My money….’ Suffering from the great economic depression, and the betrayal of Mr. Wong who absconded with the funds, Shing Kung Limited, a once proud and shiny firm, was moribund, like Mr. Kwok. To extricate the company, he tried to seek support from his previous traders but failed. Eventually and despairingly, the corporation went into liquidation and Mr. Kwok was declared bankrupt after failing to pay a one-hundred-million loan guarantee, whereas Mr. Wong gained much from lining his pockets with the firm’s accounts, leaving an awful mess for Mr. Kwok. He lost everything. He muddled along during this tragic month when he went through all the legal processes and the official receiver brought him to his house, which no longer belonged to him, to pack up his belongings and leave immediately. The security guards casted disdainful glances at him as they passed,

Fiction: Group 4

triggering the sadness and anger within his mind. His face began to turn red and he couldn’t help glaring at their back as his counterattack; he tried to defend himself yet ended up with a long sigh. They had even more money than me now, he thought. He rented a subdivided unit at Deep Water in Sham Shui Po, which was the project Tony was in charge of a year ago. He had never imagined that one day he would sell all his beloved suits solely for renting an incredibly small ‘home’. Emptiness and loneliness conquered his mind as he stood in the centre of his room: murmuring to himself and stomping up and down like a child. ‘Do I deserve this? I just made money for a living. What have I done wrong? Why should I be tortured this way?’ All of a sudden, he saw the floor crack. Hearing the crispy sound of fragments impacting on the floor, he raised his head, and found the ceiling collapsing. Desperate and without a second thought, he struggled to rush to the door… ‘Last night, a twenty-floor tall residential building collapsed. Over twenty residents were injured and five died. One of the deceased has been confirmed to be Kwok Shing Kung, the former chairman of the Shing Kung Limited. The cause of the incident is believed to be the use of poor quality materials…’

Fiction: Group 4

The Presidential Boy Chinese International School, Cheah, Yew San - 15, Fiction: Group 4

he moonlight gushed into the balcony like silver water weeping cold as sin into a vast, desolate ocean, and, as a consequence of the door being left open; the hotel room was filled with the rich scent of chrysanthemums. Inappropriately, he had flung himself on the wicker divan outside,

though it was after dark. Defiantly, he knew if his mother found out, she would surely ground him (the family was departing the hotel first thing in the morning). However, in the ecstasy of lying there and so breathlessly, on that last summer’s night, catching the winter gleam of the stars, he wrote, very romantically (for he had developed the habit during CTY): The Sheraton Hotel, Sanya, August 25--26 Dear Cecile: When I think about not being with you at freshman year prom next June, as well as all those inexhaustible, wild-lovey-dovey dances (especially Christmas) that exist only to “get in” (organized by one hierarchical arts committee or the other), I feel I should only want to draw up a bath, lie down in it, and die. My father and mother are of the more radical variety, and feel it would be best if I went to school up north in the Mainland after the summer’s over. When I think about you wooed by some other superficial, sentimental rhetoric and held tenderly in the arms of some other evening-clothes boy (someone from the Island schools? Or maybe Chinese Int.? German Swiss...?), I feel I should be there instead of him; holding you; loving you; breathing the same air and being in the same world as you; for your hushed and remarkable eyes are even more beautiful and bright than the snow-filled stars I so carelessly feed upon now - they scatter the night with a melancholy brilliance and make the day worth living. But without you, Cecile…! Without you! Oh dear…! P.S. Visit me at Badminton (the school) — IMPORTANT!! Find the address on the envelope!! Yours Faithfully,

STEPHEN CHINA

He was to spend a little more than a year at the Badminton School. With the fading scents of late-summer still whispering, Stephen had appeared at the train platform, shy but earnestly heroic, in his first tailored trousers, complemented by a fern-green tie and a “Shanghai-Tang” collar with the hems facing upright to one another, and brown brogues made more exuberant by green socks. But even more than that, the ecstasy of entering an unknown, teeming world rife with unfulfillment and ambition stirred a steadfastness in his heart; for his “abstract” interests, he formulated one of many romantic beliefs that he would have to go to a place where things “didn’t happen”, as generations of unimportant statesmen and poets had done before him. Stephen was proud of the fact that he was a man-of-letters (he decided a month into his fourteenth birthday) - rather than a mathematical or scientific genius.

Unsuccessfully, his parents had tried to temper his egotist tendencies, where he would always get in petty, verbal scrapes with the “older boys” - but only resolved to increase it; he worshipped success, fame, and to be on the vague top of the world more than anything else; therefore selfishness and a self-suspicious conscience was one of the developing Stephen’s many introspective debates — he found himself suppressing his intellect for the sake of social interests and curious skirmishes with love. This was Stephen floating about the gust and whirlwind of adolescence.

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Fiction: Group 4

With midday’s fervor imminent, Stephen stepped on the train rolling his suitcase behind him. Looking around, the lighted square where he had lunched was bright and ecstatic with the apathetic wail of largish men in striped-maroon polo shirts, and chin-tilted, snappy women in high-heels and bright jewelry, and the swelling, futile pleas of young property men in ill-fitting suits.

Taking in all this, he adjusted his collar as he handed his ticket to the attendant-man; thanking him

in assured English, it stirred a few cries of surprise from the Guangzhou populace: “what a splendid-looking boy! And he speaks English!” they cried. Stephen wondered if he really was that handsome to the Guangzhou population, for he had the inherent, fortunate tendency of self-doubt. He wondered if the language he had first learned as a young boy really could accumulate so much jealousy and admiration.

But all that didn’t matter! — Passion and Desire gleamed in the cloudless, rich skies above, and he could even see, outside, as the train engines started with a low roar, a beautiful, remarkable-looking girl laughing with the brown-irises of her eyes in full-flowered bloom.

A PENSIVE, SYMBOLIC INTERLUDE

Of the whole boarding event, his father, Mr. China, a coherent, explanatory man who had a taste for Keats and a habit in investing “in an around the pearl”, wrote in an excerpt to a conservative and aristocratic sixty-something:

“Talking about the past I can only feel loves and dreams… and the feeling of all those years being

washed away. At fifteen I fell in love with the tonic and unutterable kindness of early-morning; at fifteen-and-a-half I fell in love with the wild, effervescent beauty of the stars.”

II “SETTLED IN BADMINTON”

December of his first and only year at Badminton was a bright star in Stephen’s memory. After the lamentable failures of a highly-academic fall, in which he struggled achieving only five out of eight marks in chemistry and extended algebra, the carnival and bankruptcy of a rich and more pleasant winter -- football, dinner-dances, karaoke and movies out in the town, uninterrupted dreams late through winter mornings -- fell with glowing affection on the faces of many, like a baby laughing when she first learns to swim.

GALLANT IN IMPRESSIONABLE FORM The game with Greentown Yuhua, the state school team, was played late from five far into a snappy, emotional winter dusk of the most beautiful blend of pearl, pink, and gold, fading into the evening amidst the cries and despairs of wild, crashing boys. Stephen, at centre-forward, his red captain’s armband flapping gloriously in the December night, surging and commanding in furious exhilaration, plunging into the dirt from the bloody tackles of a thousand aching legs and Chang’s broken glasses… he had a sense that he was playing the most romantic and historical sport... flung on the elusive ball he twisted in impossible dribbles scarcely perceptible to the astonished spirit that he left in his wake, and in the heroic scenario of him strong-arming and revelling in the beating tide of a thousand cheers afar gushing, flowing, thundering, roaring, so close to him... he ran behind and fired an impossible shot into the top corner of the Yuhua net – the only goal of the game.

THE ZHUHOU OF BANTER

By time of Christmas he had completely forgotten about Cecile. The frivolous and calamitous tone of her betrayal, discovered by one of those up-to-date girls who took pride in their specialty —— Eleanor Weiley (in Hong Kong) had seen that Cecile had gone off with one sultry boy or the other at the megamall ice rink. But, however spooked from this, Stephen had secretly appeased his weird philosophical desire for a modern tragedy. He didn’t show or tell anyone, however, lest it would be judged as “cringe” (as people his age said so often nowadays). As what would be congruous with popularity, he acted bawdy and outrageously crude at even the mentioning of her name – “So what happened with Cecile… is it true that thing about Cecile…”

Fiction: Group 4

One afternoon, during a dour meal of Jinhua ham, potato French fries, and minestrone, he had received a tactful Snap from the contemptuous Cecile-suitor, whose name had come to his attention: TIPPY TAM: “Hey there, Stephen, sorry about that thing…” (indecisive keyboard emoticon) TIPPY TAM (SUCCEEDING SNAP): “Cecile told me you would be jealous.” STEPHEN: “Nah, haha - now, why on earth would I be jealous?” (A crowd of Stephen’s contemporaries are gathering around the table, each saying furiously: “Lemme see the screen,” and pushing.) TIPPY TAM: “I guess. Just thought twas’ time for her to move on and all.” TIPPY TAM (SUCCEEDING SNAP): “I mean you’ve been gone like four months.” STEPHEN: (His lips stirring unsurely): “Yeah you’re right. It only makes sense, hahaha.” STEPHEN: (SUCCEEDING SNAP) “Didn’t even like her. Just Bants.” (ended with a pair of sunglasses emoticons) (He gets up emotionally from his chair, and leaves the dining hall.) TIPPY TAM: “Haha yep, just banta. Thanks dude.” (The dining hall door slams shut from the wind).

“HAHA, NOW WHY ON EARTH WOULD I BE JEALOUS?” Stephen repeated a while later, lounging by the breezy open window in Jake Ma’s room, the wealth of early-afternoon sunshine filtering through. Jake was reclined in a large chair reading, in the original Chinese, Jin Yong’s The Duke of Mount Deer, borrowed digitally with the help of the librarian. Stephen was scrutinizing the lightness of his response to the contemptuous boy-suitor who had subtly tried to apologise:

“Well, damn!” he said after a long while, tossing a bright mandarin peel right out the window.

“Damn!”

III “BABES IN THE WOODS”

Gone were the thoughts of Cecile now, two days before Christmas eve. In these times, Badminton had about it an aristocratic indolence -- like a spring day, and so it was only appropriate for the headmaster, as inarticulate as he was in his much-too-long e-mails, to decree that there was to be a dinner-dance to celebrate. In the large ballroom, dark forms retreated into silver shadows and Stephen, yet to run into any of his friends, nervously found his place card. He had now been at Badminton since the beginning of August, having boarded, and he had found the settling-in pleasant, the people of some consequence and even “admirable” in some academic faculty or some bright, resonating personal quality or the other. On that blue evening, he had come, like many other upperclassmen, for Myra Chang, the most popular girl at school - in any school in the East. Myra Chang was a girl of the most curious mixtures of love and inwardly radiance. It was said her eyes were like a butterfly’s wings, and her steadfast and bright personage, which had filled in it countless lights that glowed and accepted all the vibrant walks of life -- served to balance this intense physical magnetism.

Seven o’clock moved into nine. The last polished plate of lasagna had been removed by the dandy, conscientious waiter, but Myra still couldn’t be found, and Stephen, and inevitably many other voracious upperclassmen, were beginning to tap their wingtips on the marble floors irritably. The air turned languid and thick and powdery. Disappointed boys began to pick up their evening coats. Click Clak! Aching heels limped out of the ballroom doors. Stephen, suddenly alone, sat a dark, empty table. When he got bored, he drifted out to the moonlit veranda.

Fiction: Group 4

Then, as the last heavy vehicles deserted the rich avenues, and silence was all there was outside the big republic of the school gates, a girl could be seen descending the steps of the vestibule balcony. Even from afar, Stephen knew she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. It was his youth’s felicity and his unwavering prejudice for romance that he knew, from the flame-like passion in his heart, that the girl his great eyes now lay on was indeed Myra Chang. As he decided on his next movement, he was reminded of a line of his own that he had written for Cecile, at the end of year nine…

Swim, and dance, with me tonight, my love For a foolish wreath is on thy head!

Stephen watched her discreetly from the veranda as she drifted to the bottom of the steps and over the trembling grass. Carefully, he turned and moved down the veranda steps. She was wearing a long white gown that outlined her slender, supple body, and a wreath of flowers adorned her forehead. Her eyes were dark and sad and lovely, and her pale hands swung gracefully by her sides. “Hello,” he cried softly. “I’m Stephen.” Hearing his voice, Myra turned around. What she saw was a boy of incomparable romance. His dramatic eyes lulled her fatigued soul into bits of paradise, and then his name finally got around to her... Stephen! Oh, Stephen…! “We’ve met,” Stephen said breathlessly. His dark eyes said: “We’re in the same year… but I don’t think you know me very well…I stayed behind, after everyone left, just to see you.”... “You might have met my older brother, Monroe China.” At the proclamation of his brother’s name, Myra’s face perceptibly brightened. “He was captain of the Football team at Archibald some years ago, but he’s since graduated.” “Oh, yes, Monroe China…” she said pensively. “So you’re his brother?”...”He’s a collegiate legend of sorts – my brother Dorian knows him, went to the same university. Real Archibald sportsman. You should be very proud.” Precipitately, a nervous jealously throbbed in Stephen’s head - not for Monroe’s success, but because of the fact that Myra respected Monroe more than himself. They were walking off the pitch, into the darkness of the nearby forest. Amidst the thick foliage, pale moonlight slipped onto the glinting leaves and through the innumerable gaps in the trees. Stephen allowed a little distance between them, for fear Myra wouldn’t like the intimacy. “I so very adore you,” she whispered very suddenly, settling herself on a smooth rock. “Men nowadays are all facile, unromantic things who lack the eternal quality of patience. You see the beauty in different things, and your mind is cool and measured, and that’s where a generation fails.” For the first time in his life, Stephen had found idealism, and the impossible quality known as physical perfection, which now sat tremulously in front of him. Advancing toward her, he placed a polished shoe on the rock, and both of his arms resting cooly across his leaning leg, he said: “I’m deeply flattered, Myra. Back south -- could I visit you sometime, give you a call?” Her eyes beamed with passion. Sitting there, she turned her wan face up to him in the moonlight, and her pale lips trembled.

“Why-yes Stephen, of course…” Precipitately, a harsh, imperious voice tolled through the night like a forlorn bell, taking with it all

the beauty of the night: “Stephen! Myra! You two come here this instant! It’s way past time!” Hearing this, she raised herself from the rock - very silently, the ends of her white blouse slipping

sadly off it. “Good-bye,” said Myra. “Good-bye,” said Stephen. Stephen watched her disappear into the blue foreground, drifting like a phantom until she was only

a scarcely perceptible dot in the distance.

Skipping away, Myra saw vaguely the large, flame-like windows of the girls’ residence, and scarcely keeping up with her rich, delightful blue streams that ran and jumped over rosebushes and turquoise growths - full of floating lilies and gleaming a silver hard as steel.

Fiction: Group 4

She heard the calling of the moon: Come away, come away … and her soul softly sighed,

conscious of the eternal hydrangeas adorning her forehead, and at that moment, she knew she was beautiful.

IV “A CHINESE DREAM”

In Christmas Stephen didn’t go skiing as many of his friends did, but instead stayed at his father’s estate in Shenzhen, golfing and drowsing over the wading-pool through indolent, late-afternoons in regretful languor. Protesting didn’t help. His father insisted they would remain in Shenzhen and go back down to Hong Kong once a week for poker and cocktail mixers. His mother wasn’t worried when her husband went off on his own, because all the women there draped themselves in face-masks and long pieces of garments and sleeves, head-to-toe, as to protect themselves from ageing in the sun.

One warm afternoon, still in Shenzhen, lounging on the sofa reading, as was his custom after a long day on the course, Stephen had realised something, given the time: he had fallen back, full of faith, into the arms of extremely generous parents, a mother and a father who had given him profusely more than he had asked. But even more than that they had given him the best upbringing – a liberal, private education, openness to deep conversation, and the time to “find himself” and to discover his true specialties and strengths. For that he was grateful.

Watching a returning buggie go by, filled with conspicuous yellow caddie helmets bobbing ecstatically along the darkening roads, anticipating their tips at the starter, an overwhelming sense of longing for Badminton crushed his heart into flakes: football, dinner-dances,, basement pool tournaments, karaoke and take-away and enchanted nights… and Myra…! Oh Myra...! Even now he could hear her footsteps, light as happiness, coming up the porch steps, and down again…

From this, he had located a newfound respect for China. Despite the old creeds and the bizarre excesses, and the rampant ugliness of its industrial steel, he was glad that it was rising, rapidly, above death, poverty, sickness... -- prevailing through the grotesque debris, as a land and as a people. But though the more exquisite caves of life were ignored - art, subtleness, poise, romantic philosophy… – it would re-discover it again, as the great Tang poets had done in their own fine days…

China was the graves of great men and women in 1911, and the heroic foot-march of weary,

nervous country boys dying in the Pingjin, their scarlet bodies languished to musical dust, hearts-in-tender-hearts, all fighting for one final cause -- to pave way for the freshness and strength of Stephen’s generation. Whatever faculty of life Stephen was to choose: arts, politics, finance – he knew it was only his duty to carry out what the old longings and devotions had fought for -- and with time Badminton had taught him this, and all the general wisdom it could think of.

Fiction: Group 4

The Pearl on the Horizon Chinese International School, Jeong, Gyu Ho Kenny - 16, Fiction: Group 4

n the last evening of that empty summer, I wandered down to the old beach in Tai Tong Wan with a case of lukewarm beer. For the first time in three weeks, the smoke in the skies had cleared, revealing a clear vermilion sunset. I was able to see the red sun and the ocean reunite on

the horizon, the crimson orb casting a clear reflection of the sun on the calm waters. Up in the heavens, the thrushes were leaving the palm trees to return to their nests in Yuen Long, where they would rest until the next morning.

Ever since the incident that we are never supposed to talk about, there is nothing down here in

Tung Ping Chau anymore. Apart from my father’s old church, no building in this village is over two stories tall. The only people who live here are the ones who desperately cling on to the image of what this place used to be a long time ago, an image that will forever remain a figment of the past; they refuse to acknowledge that the Delta has irreversibly changed, and the things we had grown to love have disappeared. Once one person realized that this village was long dead and left for Lamma, everyone was quick to follow him with their own families to pursue new lives. Since then, evenings here are quiet and uneventful, except for public holidays. On those days, the sounds of white tourists on yachts echo across the waters down to this beach, but I make sure to scream and shout back at the sea if I ever hear them.

It’s not as if I wanted to stay here. I remember packing my own suitcase for the new life ahead,

anticipating the day my father would come home in his old motor boat, bearing news that I would move. In my mind, there had been no doubt that we too would go to Lamma, just like all the other kids at school had. But that day never came. The day before my 16th birthday, he unpacked my dreams and sold the suitcase to a qigai for just a few dollars.

Much to my regret, my old man was a pastor; much of my childhood was spent devising ways to

avoid the pointless early worship services that I was dragged to every morning before school started, the endless hours dedicated to studying the memoirs of a mortal but albeit sage man who preached love for god and other humans, and the long sermons about obedience and compassion and love and obedience and compassion and love and god. To be frank, I never realized how much I hated him until my birthday, when he left alone for the city, leaving me only his old bible for a birthday present. Seeing that there were no believers left in Tung Ping Chau, he wanted to move to Hong Kong Island to preach the word of his god. That evening, I ran down to my family’s grave with a shovel and buried this cruel joke that he had the indecency to call a birthday present – and there it lies to this day, right next to my mother’s coffin.

But that blessed summery day was different from all the other days that I have lived out here in

Tung Ping Chau; as I settled into a dilapidated beach chair, I realized that there was someone other than myself on my beach.

Pacing along the coastlines was a tall slender man, dressed from head to toe in a formal suit. While

he immediately drew my attention, he didn’t look anything like the shangren that appeared in the magazines released these days in Hong Kong; the suit he was wearing was old and torn along the seams. Moreover, his face was browner than a city person’s, more like the farmers who used to live in Tung Ping Chau. Another young man driven by his ambition, only to be denied by the realities of city life. With every step he took, his shoes dabbled in and out of the cascading waves, teasing the water.

With the mellow rays of the twilight sun shining into my eyes, I shuffled forward on my seat to get

a closer look. The man strolled the length of the beach with his eyes staring into the horizon, before he finally stopped and sat down on the edge of the water. I thought to myself, maybe the man was born here. Maybe he just came back down here to see a family relative. Or perhaps it was just a man who had come down here to think, a man who wanted to forget everything and escape it all.

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I slid off my chair to approach the man who sat frozen on the beach, staring into the horizon. Step by step, I walked down to the waters, until I found myself only a few meters away from him. It was at this point the man reached into his bag with his right hand and fumbled around, until his hand finally found what it was looking for - a small black revolver.

Once he drew it out, he proceeded to play an interesting game. He pulled out the fully loaded

cartridge and picked one bullet out. I expected him to pull more out but after a minute of contemplation, he spun the cartridge, reloaded the gun, and raised the revolver until the barrel was right next to his head. I had seen many people do this on TV programs, but never with five bullets. People would gamble against fate with only one bullet. Occasionally two or three if they were feeling brave. Maybe the man felt god was on his side that night.

But for a few minutes or so, it seemed like he had lost all interest in what he was doing; he sat

there, eyes fixated on the horizon, with the loaded gun trembling right next to his head. All he had to do was move a muscle and let the gun do the work. One small movement of his index finger would shatter the silence of the beach. One small piece of metal. As the sun sunk inch by inch, I felt my heart beat accelerate in unison with his heartbeat.

Soon after, the man stood up and started saying the lord’s prayer. I thought to myself how naïve

the man must be to have so much faith in his god. But as I watched the man’s face outlined against the red horizon, I realized that something about this man was changing. Perhaps it was the way he seemed to find comfort as he went on with his prayer, the way his hands stop frantically shaking and the way the creases on his forehead relaxed with each word. But slowly and surely, the prayer came to an end and the man pulled back the hammer of the revolver.

For a second, everything in the world stood still. The sun, the wind, and the sea froze, waiting for

the bullet to leave the gun. But after he pulled the trigger, there was no sound. There was no death. There was no bullet.

The man dropped the gun from his hand. I fell onto my knees and in complete disbelief, stared at

him standing against the sun. I could feel the blood rush through my body, pulsating faster than it ever had in my entire life. Maybe the gun had jammed. Maybe the bullet was a dud. Maybe the bullet loaded in the chamber just didn’t want to leave. But none of it mattered anymore to me. There was no death. I watched the man pick up his bag and begin strolling along the coast with his feet dabbling in and out of the water, as if the past ten minutes of his life had not just occurred.

I ran down to the water to pick up the gun.

Fiction: Group 4

From Me, To You Chinese International School, Kang, Jimin - 16, Fiction: Group 4

he statistics arrived yesterday: in twenty years, my father has manufactured over three million and five hundred thousand cards. That means three million and five hundred thousand birthdays,

weddings, anniversaries, congratulations, signs of gratitude. Three million and five hundred thousand lives interconnecting with other lives, perhaps two million sealed with a kiss, perhaps a million that

traversed turbulent seas to find loved ones dozens of hours away.

A dizzying prospect, I know. How much can a card hold?

As I looked at the figures that day, tracing the abundance of zeroes with my index finger, I thought of the cards that flew out of my father’s factory to fly back to me. In retrospect, it was surprising how slight these

figures were.

One sender, one recipient, three cards in total.

But each worthy of a million on its own.

*** Dear Jia Li - I present to you a birthday card, custom dad-made! I know it isn’t your birthday, but when I saw the cat on the front I couldn’t help but think about the cat-and-mouse game we used to play back in Shantou. Remember that? Back in 1979, Peng and I were two ordinary six year olds growing up in a small village in Shantou. At

precisely ten in the morning, both our mothers would release our squirming bodies out into the labyrinth of the village streets, where we spent hours and hours playing a whole range of childish games. Although there

were several kids in the village, Peng and I preferred each other’s company above all else: we had a telepathic connection that even the village elders used to chuckle over.

Everyday our pounding feet would scatter dust throughout the village streets, our squeals echoing past the

wood-paneled windows and signs. We were quite the rascals, mind you. Our hide-and-seek strategy of hiding behind the greengrocer’s newly arrived produce would always end in complaints, while the local

Chinese medicine practitioner was never happy about how our whirlwind sprints altered the positioning of his prized deer antlers.

Our favorite game was, unsurprisingly, the one that landed us in the least amount of trouble. For lack of a better name, we called it the ‘cat-and-mouse game’. The rules were simple: one of us would be bestowed

the role of honorable cat, the other of honorable mouse. The cat would chase the mouse until the mouse was caught, or until the cat forfeited in fatigue. In both cases, the ultimate loser was punished in the same

way: the captured mouse or the exhausted cat had to consume a whole dried fish. No matter the month or the weather, the fish - bitter, sour and strangely crunchy - was never pleasant, hence explaining why our

cat-and-mouse games often lasted for hours on end.

Whenever we played, it was customary to completely immerse ourselves in the respective roles. The cat would don a pair of whiskers that were drawn slightly askew with some cosmetic or another, whilst the

mouse had to wear a headband sporting a pair of round paper ears. Each game would start with the both of

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us laughing at how ridiculous we looked, and then the chase would commence.

Whilst Peng and I played our game on one particular day in the summer of 1979, we noticed that something about our little village seemed different. Although it was only noon, the Chinese medicine

practitioner had already cleared away his collection of deer antlers and was closing his shop for the day. Other businesses followed suit; soon, Peng and I found ourselves running through quiet streets dotted with

aging footsteps with no one in sight. Once we saw the greengrocer tucking away the greens he had yet to sell - which, we realized with dismay, would discolor and wither throughout the empty afternoon - we

decided to call a truce. There was no dried fish that day; the market had closed as well.

Back then, we never fully realized what was happening in our little village. We walked home to find our parents flanked with all the other village adults. When they saw us approach, they hushed their frantic

whispers and looked at us two children, their lopsided smiles plastered half-heartedly beneath harrowed eyes.

“Ma ma, why is everyone here?”

“There’s no reason, Jia Li. We’re just talking about village affairs.”

A wrinkled man - perhaps the man who lived two blocks away from our hut - shuffled to my mother’s

side and whispered something in her ear. Her lips quivered. She nodded her head.

“Now hurry off you two, and don’t worry about us. Leave the adults to meet in peace.”

But before we were out of earshot, I heard the old man say:

“This is how it ends.”

*** Dear Jia Li - Hong Kong - wow! You’ve gone a long way, haven’t you? I hear there are some things in Hong Kong you can’t find anywhere else. Like the tram. Have you taken the tram before? Why is it called a ding-ding? Have you-

In 1985, our family said goodbye to Shantou forever.

After the government had declared the official opening of the Pearl River Delta region, no two things had

ever been the same. The neighbours we used to see meandering about town, lazing in the warm sun, now preoccupied every waking hour fantasizing about business enterprises they claimed to have always wished to

open but never did. They blamed it on the village: how small it was, how slow it was, how separate it was from the rest of the world. The Chinese medicine practitioner closed the blinds of his shop for two whole

weeks. When somebody suggested he could process his ingredients faster in a factory, his stony eyes simply clouded over as he replied: “I am an artisan, not a fool.”

In his view, everybody in our village had become a fool overnight. Within two or three years, hordes of

people had left our village in search of prosperity. They murmured about factories and economic prospects and business models. These people, who had never taken a business class in all their lives. Starry-eyed, they

walked away without a second glance back at what remained. What remained was our village, fractured, quiet and never again the haven it used to be.

Fiction: Group 4

Amidst the exodus, my dad himself hatched a dream of economic prospects.

“Jia Li, what do you think about making cards?”

He wanted to make cards, all kinds of cards. Pink cards, blue cards, rectangular cards, circular cards, birthday cards, wedding cards, the list went on and on. He had been inspired after one of our younger neighbours -

who had been one of the first to leave - had sent us a greeting card from Hong Kong.

‘You cannot imagine the reality of Hong Kong without seeing it for yourself,’ the card had read. ‘Do not lock yourself in the past: come, come and explore what is beyond.’

Whether he was truly interested in cards or whether he just wanted to leave, I never found out. After six

years of ruminating and planning at his small desk in the right-hand corner of our house, my father declared we were going to move to Hong Kong.

“I’m going to open a card-making factory in Shenzhen. I’ve got it all planned out,” he said. “we’re going

to move to the neighboring city. You’ll be able to learn English, my dear.”

Hong Kong? English? Neighboring cities? Factories? All these concepts seemed to foreign to my twelve year-old ears. I couldn’t help but harbor pangs of fear in both my mind and my chest. What about Peng? Although the gradual onset of adolescence had meant we spent less time around each other, Peng was still my best friend. The knowledge that he was constantly nearby soothed me whenever the world seemed to

spin on the wrong axis. Peng, with his ruffled hair and foolish grin, his long arms and small feet. Peng, who occasionally knocked on our door with a batch of biscuits his mother had bought for us. What would

happen if I lost Peng? If I never saw him again?

And yet there were morsels of wanderlust floating within the crevices of my body. Like dust motes illuminated by the lazy afternoon sun, each thought of Hong Kong carried with it an anticipation that could

stretch on for hours. You cannot imagine the reality of Hong Kong without seeing it for yourself. You cannot imagine the reality of Hong Kong. You cannot imagine the reality. You cannot imagine. You cannot. You.

You will change. We will all change. New faces, new sights, new beginnings. It was a threshold begging to be crossed, an entrance into a new land where I could blossom in an entirely different way.

When we finished packaging our bags that summer of 1985, I tried to retain this thought in my head. It had

been a silent day: so silent that one could hear a personal radio cackling and whispering from the dirt roads. Many people had come to say goodbye, but for me there was only one thing that mattered.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Peng sighed. We stood facing each other a few meters away from where

the adults were, exchanging final handshakes and hugs. “At least we should play a final game of cat-and-mouse?”

“Don’t be stupid,” I replied. As I attempted to smile, my cheeks felt heavy and my lips could only manage a

faint curve. “You’ll write to me, won’t you?”

“Of course, stupid,” Peng laughed before giving me a hug. “You know what, I’ll write you on your dad’s cards.”

Fiction: Group 4

“Hilarious, Peng,” I punched him on the back. “As always.”

After the goodbyes had been done and dusted, my parents and I stood at the entrance of the village, looking

back at those with whom we had spent many years of joy. It was time to walk away, starry-eyed... yet I saw no stars that day. The figure of expression only alluded to the mosaics that dotted my vision, enlarging and

blurring the contours of the world in a wet, kaleidoscopic dance of light.

“I’ll miss you!”

I never saw Peng again. ***

Dear Jia Li - I’m sorry for not having written to you for so long. Things have been messy at home. My dad’s sick and my mom might as well be - she’s so worried all the time. Don’t fret about us, though, and tell me-

It has been twenty years since I walked away from a place I had always called home.

In fact, even now as I hold the third and last episode of Peng’s handwritten cards, I cannot help but smell the waft of pungent fish we used to smell as we played our games. I cannot help but see Peng and his cheeky

grin, the bob of his hair as we ran down street after street with ridiculous appendages stuck on our heads.

I just heard from my father that he, too, is sick. Something is growing inside him - which means that he might have to go back to China sometime soon. But me? Now I am old enough to do whatever I want, yet

I don’t know what I want to do. Hong Kong is home, yet by the same logic there are millions of other homes just waiting to be found.

Hong Kong is a city of wonders, yet it will never be what Shantou was to me. Here, life never seems to

stop. Towering vehicles bustle through crowded roads, filled with faces not one of which I recognize. The buildings are chromatic, tall and unforgiving, and each Chinese medicine practitioner I see is not the one I

used to know but a foreign man, whose deer antlers never exude the aura of mysticism and magic I used to feel at home.

I am a foreigner with wings made of card. In my dreams I see myself with wings - constructed out of a

hundred paper cards - flapping as it brings me to places I’ve never been. In each place I shed a card, leaving my memory, and I know one day all my cards will have been shed and I will have to stay where I eventually

land.

And home? I don’t know what Shantou is anymore. I resigned myself to an Internet search and I didn’t recognize a thing - cold-faced buildings dotted the streets I used to know.

I do not know where Peng is, nor do I know whether or not I’ll hear from him again. I do not know

whether or not he is still in Shantou, living in the same villages we’ve always been in, or whether he too has traversed different seas into foreign lands we’ve never seen together.

Three million and five hundred thousand cards.

Dear Peng - the world is smaller than it seems.

Fiction: Group 4

The Ties That Bind

Chinese International School, Li, Sophie - 15, Fiction: Group 4

A.

ven the way she stood was loud: arms crossed, feet planted firmly on the tiled floor, shoulders set,

stubborn, strong. Mei could see her shadow, short and squat like she was, peeling away from her feet and folding over the ground. She was fighting the first war: Mama wanted to eat out for dinner

and Grandma refused to go. She said: You didn’t know what restaurants put in the food they served you and it could be gutter oil or rat meat or only fat bits and even if it was safe to eat it was always unhealthy and it

was much better, always better, to stay put and cook your own dishes. So she would stay at home and cook her own dinner. The rest of them could go out, she said, but she wouldn’t be leaving.

Mama pushed air through her nose. Chinese characters speared from her lips, bitten out between teeth, and

light hit her diamond earrings, refracted, before bouncing away to cast a million different shades of glowing white in small, vivisected panels on the living room walls. Again and again with all this trouble...! It’s a good

restaurant, Ma, it’s trustworthy.

Grandma didn’t budge. You can go if you want to, no one’s stopping you.

And Mama returned fire: Are we a family or not! Do you need to be this difficult? This is the smallest thing, Ma, can we please—

Round and round they went, horses on an infinite carousel. Mei liked watching carousels go and liked

riding one even more, watching the world around blur into a river of colours, the yellow-white of street lamps fizzling into each other against a blue-black background. The sky was blue-black, a heavy colour

pressed with grey cloud, brooding thunder clouds, they hulked like great beasts and gargoyles. On nights like this one Mei knew that the sky was old and old and old, she thought it rather looked like a battle was

being fought, something was coming,

War. The grown-ups said it. Or didn’t say it, were too afraid to say it, but their eyes and anxious hands were loud. And their worry lines said: we may not survive it.

So.

So Jie started helping in the harvest and Qin minded the house.

She stacked yams and ground corn into bowl-shaped loaves and kept the rooms stocked for the men who slept in the day and went out crouched low when darkness came. When they returned, dusty and ravenous,

Qin handed out her wares, pressed between sheafs of rice paper, watched them shovel it into their hungry mouths. She did her part.

So did Mama, who covered her face, rubbed charcoal around her eyes and tied strips of cloth

around the limbs of men who didn't come home quite right, and sometimes her own. Sometimes it was Jie who did the tying, her hands sure and fast and her mouth a thin white slash slicing across her jaw.

These men had starving eyes and flinty mouths. Qin swept the floor around their feet and flung mud back

E

Fiction: Group 4

out of the house, avoided their large gleaming eyes reddened by ash, their rough hands cracked from cold. Thank you, he said, a man with thick eyebrows and a cut opened on his temple. What’s your name?

Qin. Like qin lao.

Qin, he said, and sighed it out, a breathy syllable. Qin lao. A good name. All your life you will work hard...

(She’s too young to do this, said Jie. Mama just handed Qin more corn to grind, a pile already stacked

higher than Qin could see over.

There’s no too young. Do you think there’s a wrong age to die, in their eyes?

Jie shook her head. You sound just like—)

The war had been won. Grandma exhaled, a long, swollen breath, and went to put a coat on, and Mama put her fingers to her temples and rubbed, hard. Mei tipped herself across the back of the couch and leaned

over upside down, legs hooked over the couch and her hair falling straight down to brush the floorboards. From this angle Mama looked ancient, a statue of stone that stood impossibly still, and bent with some

impossible weight on her shoulders.

Mei please don’t do that, said Mama. She leaned down—or leaned up—and pulled a boot on—or pulled it down. Mei blinked, saw faint stars, and hastily straightened, falling back onto the couch cushions. Yes,

Mama.

Grandma came out, face as closed as stone. I’m ready.

Finally... Mama moved towards the door, her mouth a thin white line slashed across her jaw. Zou le. Let’s go.

Bodies floated. Swollen monstrous. They came bursting down the fields as the river did, carried on a strong

thick tide of water, that had brought them life once, now it killed. Now it killed and killed and killed.

Qin waded through mud, through the swaying forest of wheat half drowned in the flood. Somewhere a woman wailed. Qin wanted to, shaped a sound that snapped against the back of her teeth and couldn’t

squeeze out. She was cold all over. Under her feet the earth squelched. Qin had sludge on her fingers and raked across her cheekbones, and icy water that stuck her clothes tight against her skin.

—Come on, girl. A hand slipped into Qin’s own, thin and tough with calluses.

Jie’s eyes were dark and like the pieces of flint Baba sharpened his harvest scythe on. Hurry up. You walk

slower than a snail.

They moved, silent and like ghosts, through the light mist rising off the great arms of water, towards the river banks, looking for what they could save, and who. Who had been near the river when they broke the

dam, who had been scything wheat in the fields, who had been there to die, Baba. Who.

Houses had prostrated themselves onto the ground. Crumbled onto the people inside them. Qin stepped forward and felt something soft that squished under her shoe, she looked down and a scream took shape, put

Fiction: Group 4

itself together and oozed up her throat, it pried her mouth open...

Jie’s fingers were so tight against Qin’s fingers they hurt her. Jie wouldn’t let her stand there, tugged her forward in a sharp jerky movement and pulled her up when Qin almost tripped into the water.

More words knocked around in Qin’s mouth, smooth and wild pebbles. She said, Lan...

Jie’s mouth opened, she kept looking forward. She said, Why’re you using my first name all of a sudden?

What’s wrong with Jie? You older than me now or something? She said, We’ll fix everything together.

We will rebuild. Will.

Mei’s shiny shoes squeaked against the floorboards following in Mama’s footsteps, trying to walk just that much faster to match her small strides to Mama’s long ones, hurrying up. Grandma frowned. Remember

your daughter. You’re walking too fast for Lan.

What? Who?

What?

Mei tugged on Grandma’s coat sleeves. That’s not my name, Grandma.

Grandma blinked once, twice, slowly, deliberately, reminding Mei stronger than ever of the tortoises they watched documentaries of in school, those old and crusted animals, carrying their thick and enormous shells,

taking an age to drop their eyelids down and lift them back up again, a time the lifespan of continents. To Mei everyone was old and old, but Grandma, nearly eighty, was old old. Ancient. A whole new species of

personhood.

Did I say Lan?

Yes, Grandma.

Mama turned around with a sharp look, then paused in place and turned back again, she had a strange expression on—she turned back around. Bie luo suo le. No more fussing around, let’s go.

In the car Mei fell asleep, sliding down her seat and propped up against the door. She fell asleep to the sound

of crickets, and there were

Rumours of soldiers marching towards their village but most people didn’t believe it. They couldn’t see why soldiers would be bothered with their small village when they’d never been before, and that was in the way

of rumours, and fear mongering. Besides, if ever the soldiers did come they would likely be warned: scouts would tell them if the rumours were true and when

From her nap Mei woke up—

Qin woke up, and the sky was on fire.

Flames ate the world alive, there was screaming, there was

Fiction: Group 4

A sharp curse from Mama’s mouth, bitten off. Mei heard the wheels of the car screeching on the tarmac, making high shrill

Noises that cleaved the air apart. Qin tasted ash, settling heavy in her mouth. Mama was not home, when she should’ve been home. Mama

Swore and jerked the steering wheel sharply to one side, muttering under her breath. It was the fault of winter time, the roads were wet and slippery

Blood was slippery. Mama looked at Qin, eyes white and over bright in the darkness, framed in the doorway with night spilling around her body, blood spilling from her neck, life spilling from her. Mama’s

skin was wet against Qin’s hands when she caught her, a second mouth gaping open on her neck and leaking down her shoulders.

The noise that had chased Mama inside came roaring in now, the howling, the gunfire. Mama was heavy in

her arms. The taste of death on her tongue was heavier, shots shaking the air apart, Uncle was shaking the curtains open... Uncle was telling her to let go, Uncle was telling them they all had to go. He was herding

them out of the room, he was saying to put their hands up. Qin put her hands up, blood sliding down them.

Grandmother dozed in the front seat, bent against the dashboard. Rain ploughed into the ground in fast

silver ropes. In the distance lightning forked down and speared the encroaching hills.

In the distance houses were burning. People were screaming. Mama.

Uncle’s eyes were wild and on fire. You wanna live, girl?

In the reflection of the car window, Grandmother’s shadow was a crooked beast, a stark black shape among

bright city lights. Her head was bent, eyes unfocused, eyelids drooping. Grandmother looked like she was in another place, another time, transported.

Mei remembered a time sitting out on the porch peeling green beans in front of their knees angled over

wooden stools, the backs of their palms wet from the moisture and Grandmother’s hands turning wetter, the skin under her eyes glowing bright under the lamplight and her eyes busy bringing the past back to life. You

Fiction: Group 4

are so young, she said, voice dreamy. Work hard in school, Mei... You will work hard all your life...

The diagnosis. When Mama heard it, it turned her face, slapped her cheek around to face briefly the wall where no one could see what emotions flashed across it. When she turned back around there was nothing

there, wiped completely blank of any expression, a blank and impersonal canvas. Early-stage Alzheimer’s.

The doctor told Grandma. Mama translated. You will experience some memory loss. Ni you xie shi qing hui wang ji de. Sometimes the past and the present will melt into each other, blur together. You shi guo qu he xian zai hui rong hua yi qi de. I am sorry, but there is no cure. Mama’s throat moved. Zhe ge shi zhi bu liao de.

Who’s Lan, Grandma?

This was the truth of Qin: a crack in the stone, hands grinding corn, a weed sown in rock still growing. You

wanna live, girl?

Yes I do yes I do I do yes I do.

B.

Dogs were bloated. Tongues black and swollen. Stomachs, drum-like, hung distended, near touching the ground, scraped shallow trails in the dirt when they panted along the streets, roads turned slick and dull grey

under sheets of rain and sleet. They died in droves, lay down with a sigh and died, their bodies vanished almost as soon as they hit the ground, people were hungry and hungry, and bowls were empty.

No rats were left. There was bark. Peanut shells. Whatever Qin thought could be food she put into the big

cooking pot and stirred and stewed, anything that could be mashed between teeth, downed, digested, to live another hour, another day, two days: the bark snatched from the highest branches Qin alone was light

enough to climb to, pilfered from squabbling hands and screaming bodies all fighting for the last skin of trees not stripped naked, leaving forests peeled raw, standing skinless in the grey snow. Mama and Baba were both

an upturned patch of land slightly darker than the dirt around it and two slim stone markers. That left the two of them.

Qin’s fingers missed the texture of yams, she missed the feel of something solid between her teeth. Hunger

was a dull ache and a fickle presence. It stabbed rude and heavy just when Qin thought she’d gotten used to it. She caught Jie’s glance sliding sideways, thrown longingly at the corner where piles of yam cakes and

corn bread used to lie stacked higher than they were tall. Now little food. No food.

Food smelled good, better than good. Pickled cucumbers in small delicate dishes, peanuts roasted and salted,

lotus preserves sweet and cold arranged in perfect circles. Vegetables heated on plates and glistening, squares of tofu sitting poised and perfect. Rice was steaming and hot. Roasted pork sizzling, Mei’s mouth watering.

Mei dug in, eager and hungry, scooping up rice flavoured with meat sauce.

In her slow, deliberate fashion Grandma began to transport steaming yams to her plate, measured, methodical. Chopsticks, poised over the target for slightly over a second—then to secure the target, carefully

Fiction: Group 4

squeezing—then to bring it over the table cloth, an ocean of white, and safe into port. One more. Two more. Three. Mama looked askance at the four yams sitting snug in the porcelain, but said nothing, just

poked at her pak choi with her long hair trailing on the table. Grandma picked up a fifth yam. She put it in her pocket.

Mei spoke up. What are you doing, Grandma?

Eyes like wolves and not humans. When Qin walked home she saw them through the door, huddled and

squatting low around a stone cooking pot, children. The mother slowly stirring with a long wooden spoon, the room a smear of darkness, smoke snaking out between lid and pot and drifting up and disappearing. The

children moved closer, murmuring, asking why the food was so slow to come. Qin saw their eyes through the doorframe, they looked like they were going to eat their mother. And there were stories...

Don’t look at that man, Jie said. She moved slowly through the door, the careful tread of the starving,

turning her back on the crouched frame of a man who walked the streets, a man Qin recognised as the head of a family of five who lived a mile away from them. She poked at the coals of the fire with a metal stick,

watched the thin flame warm the bottom of the pot of thin broth Qin had slaved over for a good hour. You don’t speak to him and when you see him coming you walk away, do you understand?

Why?

Jie straightened. They say he ate the leg off his wife.

What?

Shi de. People say they had no food left, everything gone completely. One day they found her one-legged

body rotting in the woods.

As she took her sixth yam Grandma was focused solely on her task, paying no heed to anything else. Mei had to say it again. What are you doing, Grandma?

What?

Mama frowned and put her chopsticks down. She means the yams, Ma. What on earth are you doing?

Grandma blinked. These are good yams.

Well, yes, but what are you doing putting them in your pocket?

I’m bringing these for Lan, said Grandma. She doesn’t think I should call her that but I think I am old enough. She likes yams...

Mama’s cup clattered to the floor. Grandma went on, dreamy-sounding, We haven’t had yams in so long.

She is hungry, I am saving these yams for Lan.

When the soldiers came raiding again for food and for people it was a cloudless day, the sky cool and grey, the earth soft and wet under their feet pounding across it. Uncle had been right the first time, if they wanted

to live, they had to go. They ran and ran, lungs on fire, every gulp of breath rattling up a storm inside Qin, her bag drumming against her back, hitting hard and heavy.

Fiction: Group 4

Jie reached the wall first, her legs longer. For the first time there were no soldiers guarding it, they could climb over the wall and disappear forever. Live. Leave.

Leave the village forever. Qin saw Jie’s eyes move up the expanse of rock and look for gaps, footholds, small

crevices to lock their fingers into. She saw her throat moving, and Qin was afraid also.

(You thought the darkness would never end, you thought the teeth of grief would never leave your muscles. This was the colour of a sky lit up with fire: the air thick with noise, the sound of rock splitting living in

your eardrums, the road paved with bones, bones, flesh, the shape of a road that would never again lead you home.)

So, said Jie. Ready to go?

Qin was quiet.

Jie said, I bet I can climb it faster than you can. I bet you can’t beat me.

... Yes I can.

Really? said Jie. Think you can beat me, baby girl?

I bet I can, said Qin.

Bet you can’t.

Bet I can!

Then show me.

Jie hooked her fingers between the stone and put one foot against it. Show me, Jie repeated. Her eyes shone

in the darkness.

They climbed the wall.

Fiction: Group 4

Dollhouse Christian Alliance SC Chan Memorial College, Chan, Hui Tung - 15, Fiction: Group 4

mile for the picture! Be a good sister and pose with your brother, dear?” Mum chirped. I pulled a few muscles and shuffled in my chair. My brother sat still, pulling the exact same muscles I did. Dad came over and stood behind us. I couldn’t help noticing the

suffocating smell of perfume, something my mother never wore. Mum tugged the curtains so they were completely open, letting sunshine inside and basically exposing the entire house. My eyes twitched from the sudden brightness. She rushed over, her daggling jewelry with extra glamour.

The cameraman looked at us admiringly. “Picture in ten, nine, eight...” Silence accompanied the unnecessarily long countdown. From the mirror, I saw us. Everyone

was dressed up nicely, grinning. The reflection was perfect. “Three…two...” I quickly looked back into the camera, trying to enjoy the very last bit of genuine family time. “One!” Light flashed. The only time our family actually got together and did something on our own

was over. This was our tradition ever since I was born. It had been enjoyable for the first few years, but now it was just like a piece of compulsory chore that none of us liked doing. It showed how fake and weak our family bond was. I never could get over the fact that we all changed. I didn’t talk much in the family. It wouldn’t have any use. It could never go back to the way it was. My most prized possession was gone.

Almost immediately, everyone got out of their places. They left and so did their smiles. I dragged myself out of my chair, glad and sad that this was over. Dad paid the cameraman at the front porch. I could hear the cameraman complementing our family, how wonderful and perfect it was. I held the urge to burst out laughing. I paced back to my room, grabbing my swimming bag and headed off to swimming practice. I choked walking past my brother’s smoking room.

After my five-minute stroll, I stepped into the pool. With my swimming goggles on, I slipped into the cool pool. Submerging myself into the cold liquid, I felt my goosebumps on my tanned skin. I bounced off the side of the pool. I held my arms and legs straight for a few seconds. My stiff arms stretched forward, feeling water passing around me, running down the curve of my back. I still wasn't accustomed to the temperature. I shivered but continued.

I stared down at the bottom of the pool. Everything was in different shades of blue. Light blue water, sky blue tiles, navy blue fringe of my swimsuit... I couldn't help noticing the blue in my mind as well. My head bobbed up for a breath of fresh air. As I dived back down again, I found myself synchronize with the movement of water. I didn't have to move at all. The water navigate my arms and lifted my head up rhythmically. My tense body relaxed along every stroke. My eyes closed, and my mind drifted off. If it wasn't for the moving fluid, I would not have felt myself at all. I could hear the sound of water pushed away by my arms and my breath that quickened as I swam. However, it didn't feel like swimming, it was more like floating, in a dream or an infinite space. That's when I realized my legs weren't moving at all. Water carried me forward. The sense of cool liquid flowing down my thighs and cabs were additive. Everything was peaceful. I spared no attention for my teammates trying to strike up conversations with me. I didn’t care about any of them, except one.

I led out my arms as I arrived at the other side of the pool. After one last dive, I arched my back as I reached up and grabbed the rim of the pool. Half of my torso was pulled out of the water that already became warm, back remained arched. My shoulders shuddered from the fresh gentle breeze, water droplets running down my neck. My somberness had left me, at least for a split second. I stared at the boys’ team on the other side. I saw him amongst the crowd, but he never noticed me.

“Hey, Viola!” one of my teammates hit my shoulder hard while I walked home, staring at the attractive back of my crush. She lived on the same street as my crush and I did. Cursing under my breath as she had just interrupted my peaceful moment, I managed to drag my gaze for him to her.

“Doing good as usual, huh? Your life is so perfect.” She sighed dreamily. “A grand house, fabulously rich parents, hot brother…You score all straight As and you’re a whiz kid! I will give everything up for your life! You’re like…a doll! A perfect doll! Literally you…” I gave her a beginning of a smile. I meant for it to be sarcastic. I’d give everything up to get out of my life. “That’s really nice of you, but…”

“S

Fiction: Group 4

“Don’t you say you’re not that good! Everyone knows…” She went on babbling for the rest of the walk home. I held my head down. Every good

thing she said about me was like one knife after another. Her compliments were the exact opposite of the reality I lived in. The knives cut deeper and deeper wounds in me. I could’ve told her the truth, maybe she would care. But no one ever listened. They thought I was way too perfect to have things going wrong in my life. My soul burnt in turmoil. She was right about one thing, though: I was a doll. Lifeless, cold, but perfect to the outside world. It was like I only existed to be appreciated by others who didn’t realize their fortunate lives. I wasn’t allowed to feel, or to be cared for. I should remain perfect and fine forever, but I couldn’t. I might not talk much, I might live in a mansion, but that didn’t mean I was perfect. I had my own problems and feelings. This wasn’t fair.

I left for my dollhouse without saying goodbye. I never did anyways. Ignoring the feeling of being stared at, I stepped inside the barren lounge. I avoided the shattered glass pieces as I entered the kitchen. Great. This time who ever it was broke my favorite glass. This particular glass was from my only friend. She gave it to me as a sign of friendship, then died in an accident the day after. Fury rose, “As if I hadn’t suffered enough” I thought. I turned around and my eyes went straight to the giant mirror. I remembered the only time there wasn’t broken fragments of clothes, needles or silverware on the kitchen tiles. Then I heard my parents and brother yelling across the room.

“This is it.” I dumped my bag, leaving it on top of the glass pieces. I stomped into the living room and

stood right in front of my raging family abruptly. They stopped. I never intervened in affairs like these, they didn’t think I cared. I grabbed my dad’s bag and swiped his phone off the coffee table. That’s where he hid all his dirty secrets. I snatched my brother’s sledgehammer and smashed my dad’s phone along with his drug apparatus. Stepping on the fragments, I went over to the shelf and retrieved a hand gun. I smashed all the framed family pictures. I always hated these sarcastic pictures of our family. My mother screamed while the useless men backed away with their wobbly legs. I didn’t know how to shoot. With them at safe distance, I shot the chandelier and out the window. Pieces fell on me, slicing my skin, revealing red flesh, proving I was not made of stone. Nothing could vaguely compare to the pain gushing out me. I exhaled, done with my home wrecking. All was still. A draught blew inside the house through the gunshot hole. I had a new sensation of freshness and relief.

“Never thought your quiet little girl would do this, huh?” I chuckled embarrassedly. “But I’ve had enough. I’m sick of our phony house. Dad’s cheating, Kyle is doing drugs, Mum’s acting like she doesn’t know anything. Do you guys genuinely believe that I don’t sense things changing? Nobody notices when I leave the house. I swear Dad spends his time on his phone more than he looks at me in a week. What happened to the warm family when I was young? What happened to my loving parents? What happened to my supportive brother who was always there for me? Everyone thinks we’re perfect, but we’re a broken. Every praise about us is so sarcastic. Are you guys enjoying ruining a family in order to vent? What about me? There’s no one I could flirt with, nothing I could get addicted to, nothing I could do when I’m down. I hid my feelings for the sake of this family, the one thing I ever loved. And now you guys are being selfish by using my feigned innocence and destroyed my only possession. I am fed up. I’m fed up of having to be careful not to step on broken plates or vases when I get back home. I’m fed up of choking and gasping for air when I pass Kyle’s room. What is it that we can’t solve as a family? People say we are a dollhouse, but this is what really happens.”

I stood at the door. “Oh and don’t worry about the mess I made, worry about the mess you guys made. Some things can always be replaced, but some things can’t.”

I believed it was a dramatic exit. I felt the weight fall off my chest. I didn’t care how they were going to react. We could always pretend nothing ever happened, that’s what we do best. I needed some time alone. I sat down by the dock near my house and gazed into the blue sky.

“Hey.” I jumped violently, an inch from falling off into the water. He clutched my arm to keep

me balanced. Flustered, my cheeks were hot as lava. It was Finn, my neighbor who I had been shyly falling for for the past three years.

“I heard some noises from your place, is everything good?” He sat down beside me, our shoulders brushing slightly. After my weak nod, he said casually, ”I know how it’s like to be in a bad family.”

Fiction: Group 4

My head shot up, meeting his gentle gaze. I never told anyone, not a word, how did he find out? I wondered as I looked deep into his eyes. They were brown and sweet like chocolate, sparkling under the start of sunset. I could have stared forever.

“Don’t tell me you weren’t aware of someone staring at you every time you walk into your house after swimming practice.” I shot him a coy grin. It was him all along.

We ended up chatting for a while, about swimming, our families and loads of other stuff. It was so comfortable. The sun went down finally when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was my brother, Kyle. A pang of a mixture of fear, fury and curiosity hit me. I was with the boy of my dreams, but that didn’t mean I was all calm and peaceful.

“Um…Mum and Dad wanted me to ask you if we could talk…You know, about things that happened earlier…?” He scratched his head, avoiding direct eye contact. He looked at Finn, obviously not wanting to continue this conversation in front of a stranger. He hadn’t behaved in such obedience and manner ever since he started drugs. I was suspicious, but a tiny part of me was beginning to think that things just might heal, that we could fix this after all.

“Okay.” I got on my feet and was about to follow Kyle home. Suddenly, Finn reached and wrapped his hand around mine, stopping me dead in my tracks.

“Can we go to and leave swimming practice together from now on?” He studied my features as he asked carefully.

With a wide grin, I replied, “Sure.” I was anticipating life for the very first time.

Fiction: Group 4

Conquered Discovery College (Secondary), Leonard, Alix - 15, Fiction: Group 4

he war had been long.

Elizabeth Leighton stood, leaning on the edge of the forecastle, watching the grey waves hitting the bow of the ship. They had nearly arrived. She’d been able to taste the cool Asian air for

days now. They sailed in the mist, no land in sight, yet she knew that they were approaching their arrival. Her head was heavy from the weeks of sailing through the oceans. Though stopping in the Raj for several days, the swaying feeling and nausea hadn’t had time to fade away before they set back on for their journey. She was sick of the waves.

It was mid-winter 1941, and they were on their way to Hong Kong. Though they tried to hide it from her, Elizabeth was not deaf to hear all the sailors talking quietly about a Japanese invasion occurring. She was an aristocratic woman, sent away from her country due to the danger the war posed to her family. As Winston Churchill’s niece, that was expected. Her father had taken immediate action, by sending Elizabeth and three of her other siblings away from Britain. They’d stopped at the Raj, but were quickly forced to leave due to the anarchical instability. No matter where they went, shots were fired, people killed. The world had become a massive battlefield: only those who could afford to move would survive.

“Land ahead!” cried a nearby sailor – indeed, Elizabeth saw, as she strained her eyes, a shape forming in the thick mist. It looked like a rip on white paper, the edges not straight, their imperfections neat against the pale sky. As they drew nearer, minor detail formed on the initial black stretch of land. The waves lapped against a small port where they were heading, licking the sides of other small fishing boats squatting the area.

They reached the docks minutes later. Stumbling down the ramp, Elizabeth took her first step on Chinese land. She followed the troops towards the foot of the first mountain: there, a soldier stood rigidly, eyeing them with utmost respect.

“Commander Dowding, sir,” said he, with a wave of his hand resembling a salute. Sir Dowding bowed his head down slightly as a salutation.

“We are here with Sir Churchill’s nieces and nephews,” he said, vaguely gesturing at Elizabeth, as well as another girl (Anna) and two boys (John and Chris). “I was ordered to bring them here so that they can travel safely to Hong Kong.”

“Requested by whom?” “Churchill himself,” Dowding replied. “As ex military commander, the Minister has given me this

special duty. I am to drop them off here as I head to the Americas.” All four felt nervous as the Chinese soldier inspected them, then nodded curtly. “We shall request a carriage immediately,” he said, beckoning them to follow him. “They are to be accompanied by some of our men,” Dowding said loudly. The Chinese solider

turned around. “So be it,” said he, frowning slightly. “But no more than three; there is limited space in the

carriage.” Dowding picked out three of his best sailors, before bidding the four children goodbye. It was

strange to watch all of the troops turn away back to the ship; they had been their family, to some extent, in the past few months. They didn’t have to wait long before the sound of an engine echoed down one of the roads. A sizeable car drove into view just as the crew had finished re-embarking upon the ship. Elizabeth followed her brothers and cousin into the automobile, slightly cramped as they tried to fit all seven in the back of the car. She bent down, craning her neck, and saw out of the window, the ship sailing away from the docks. Seconds later, its’ sails completely vanished behind the murky fog.

* In all of the years to come, Elizabeth would never forget how she felt the first time she travelled through the Chinese countryside. At first they passed through mountainous lands, peculiar little temples, travelling along bumpy roads, gigantic steep hills, all the while overlooking forest-covered valleys far down below. Then they came to lands that became increasingly inhabited, the grounds somewhat flattening as they reached a wide respectable town named Zhanjiang. There, they found good roads, small rickety inns, and many seafood trading posts. The villagers here spoke a foreign language and sang songs quite unlike what Elizabeth

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had heard before. The poor little girl started to feel her stomach growl; it was well past teatime, and felt that it would soon be the same for dinner.

“We are expected in a small inn, just outside Zhanjiang,” said the chauffeur, with a heavy Chinese accent. Elizabeth jumped: this was the first time he’d spoken since they’d left the port.

It took a few minutes to drive through the town, as there were quite many people in such a small space (the streets were very narrow). At last they all came to the suburban inn named Huandao, and were delighted to find its doors flung open wide. This particular building looked quite like a little temple, nestled among cinnamon trees and mangroves; there were curious round lanterns hanging from the front porch, with religious ornaments decorating the walls and the roof. Slithering on top of the roof was what looked like the shape of a long, snake-like dragon. The children came into the house all for supper, seeing the beautiful things and smelling the delicious smells from a nearby room, where food was cooking. Elizabeth would gladly have stayed there for days on end, until the war was well over so she could return home; but as she was constantly reminded, they were expected in Hong Kong, and therefore forced herself to not get too comfortable.

The master of the inn was a brawny Chinese fellow (one of those people whose entire ancestry had been born and brought up here) and whose name was Ling Chiu. He was as strong as a warrior, as hotheaded as a whistling kettle, and as wise as an owl. His tavern was pleasant, warm and snug, and was perfect for those hungry voyagers who felt ravenous after a tiring day’s worth of travelling. He lived there with his wife, Mei Chiu, who, unlike her husband, was as kind as an angel. As soon as the company arrived, they were delightfully welcomed by Mrs Chiu, who put on an apron, lit fires, boiled water, and settled the guests down around a large round table. Mr Chiu appeared seconds later, and collapsed onto a short stool opposite Elizabeth. He was whistling loudly, and, after briefly introducing himself, whipped out a stained newspaper, which he read until Mrs Chiu came fussing into the room, carrying all sorts of bowls, chopsticks, and tablespoons.

“Help yourselves to some tea, sweets,” said Mrs Chiu, motioning towards a flowery tea set. “A little beer would suit me better,” Chiu said loudly, folding up his newspaper and sitting himself

upright to face the table. Elizabeth felt bewildered and bewuthered; this man had some very poor manners indeed!

“Of course, dear,” Mrs Chiu answered, rushing around the room and helping everyone serve themselves to some food. “Oh, Anna, is that right? Would you care for some xiao long bao? They are divine…”

Soon a big jug of coffee had been settled upon the hearth, most of the plates were halfway empty, and Chiu was settling on a second round of noodle soup, occasionally sipping his beer. Mrs Chiu kept bustling to and from the kitchen, all the time leaving with empty plates and coming back with filled up ones – there was a lot of food indeed, from sweet-and-sour turkey to chicken on crispy noodles to egg-fried rice. Finally, the four children, feeling satisfyingly full, lay back upon their stools and sipped tea from their china mugs. They sat in silence for a while, watching the fire crackling from the fireplace. “We will be setting for Hong Kong tomorrow,” said Chiu, breaking the silence. “You will need to rest tonight. It will be a long journey.” He paused, helping himself to another pint of beer. “We will travel by foot.” “By foot?” poor Elizabeth blurted out before she could stop herself. “I beg your pardon,” she added apologetically, “but Sir Dowding specifically sent us here so you could bring us to Hong Kong as fast as possible.” “Yes, you crude little girl,” said Chiu, in a tone that suggested irritation. “But do you even realise who you are?” But Elizabeth just stared at him, lost for words – she was feeling very hot, and red in the face, and annoyed. “Forgive us, Mr Chiu,” John amended on her behalf (he was the eldest of the four). “But we do not really realise what you mean.” “Well, is your uncle not the Prime Minister of Britain?” grumbled Mr Chiu, helping himself to a hot, pastry-looking sphere. Hear, hear! thought Elizabeth. She did not understand how this related to their walking to Hong Kong.

“Yes,” said John, slowly. Mr Chiu looked at the four children, as if expecting some kind of response on their behalf. “None of you know how much danger you are in, I suppose?” John, Chris, Anna and Elizabeth shook their heads. How strange Mr Chiu was acting!

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He took a deep breath, before adding: “All of you are running a terrible risk coming here.” John and Chris exchanged puzzled looks; Anna sat back into her seat, whimpering slightly; Elizabeth,

on the other hand, carried on staring at the man. How could they possibly be in danger? She soon got the answer to her question.

“Perhaps you might like to explain why they are so, Mr Chiu,” said Mrs Chiu darkly. “Oh! Alright!” said he impatiently, repositioning himself in his seat, finally dropping his chopsticks into

his plate, and intertwining his hands above the table. “Have any of you four ever heard of the Kylin?” “The what?’ stammered Elizabeth. Chris stamped her foot from under the table. “The kylin,” Mr Chiu continued, cringing at her impolite exclamation. “Is an animal of ancient

Chinese mythology. It resembles a deer, with horns on the head and scales over the body. Its tail is like that of an ox. The kylin,” Mr Chiu took a deep breath, “is said to have the ability to live over two thousand years. It is also said to have special powers, such as spiting fire, and roar like thunder.” Elizabeth shuddered: she was not sure she liked the kylin.

“Now, what you have to understand is that the kylin is said to convey the will of Heaven, and therefore dictate the rise and fall of a dynasty. Some folk say that he brings children to them; others just think it’s a prestigious creature, symbolising brilliant talent and intelligence.

“So you can see that the kylin has many powers, and is one of the most important and sacred creatures of Chinese culture. And I’m telling you now – the kylin exists. He, the dragon, the phoenix, and of course, the turtle, make up the Four Divine Creatures. It is believed that, once all four original creatures are captured and put together, the bearer will possess eternal power and longevity.” He swallowed. “But such capture comes to a terrible price. It is a monstrous thing, to cage these animals. Only those who have nothing to lose would commit such a crime. The capture of the Four Divine Creatures would lead you to practically eternal life, yes, but from the moment the fourth creature is in possession of the huntsman... let’s just say all hell breaks lose in the world. Demons, goblins, trolls, giants – all of the creatures from hell are released into the world, and cannot be controlled. The only person they will not slaughter is the Master of the Four.”

The four children gaped at Mr Chiu for a moment, Mrs Chiu hurrying along with the teapot and refilling empty mugs.

“But whom would be that desperate?” John wondered aloud. “Surely living a normal life, surrounded by people, would be better than this… malediction.”

“Of course,” Chiu agreed, draining his pint of beer. “Someone who has nothing to gain, and nothing to lose. That is, of course, unless you are two inches from death, or from a fatal loss, which could potentially affect the entire world!”

“But these are just legends, of course,” Elizabeth said nervously. She was feeling quite overwhelmed by this new information, and yet could not make a single connection from the kylin to their situation.

“Alas!” Mr Chiu exclaimed. “The kylin does exist, as does the phoenix, the dragon, and the turtle. And there is our problem.” Mr Chiu took a deep breath. “Someone is trying to assemble all four; someone is after eternal glory, and a prolonged lifetime. There is someone walking the Earth, who, to this very day, searches for the Four Divine Creatures.” “I do not understand,” stammered John. “What has this got to do with us?” “Everything, my boy! See here, our people believe very strongly about these old legends, and are utterly sure that Westerners are the ones trying to hunt down the four creatures. That is where you come in. There are many stories going from town to town, door to door, mouth to mouth. It is said that your dear sweet uncle is in possession of three of the Four Divine Creatures, and that he sends you to hunt down the kylin in order to win the war.” “Lies!” snarled Elizabeth, temporarily forgetting her manners. She was feeling positively flummoxed, hot on anger. “Impound and bebother these fibbers! We are here for safety, not trouble!” “We know, dearie,” said Mrs Chiu, sweeping over to her and patting her shoulder. She turned to her husband and began scolding him in a language Elizabeth could not understand. Finally, Mrs Chiu piled up the plates, and took their orders for breakfast. They all got up, and were allocated very snug bedrooms filled with made beds, chairs and sofas, before stowing away and each nestling into their bunks.

* The next morning was fresh and breezy: the sky was of a pearly white, and the jungle trees swayed in the wind. They bid farewell to Mrs Chiu and left accompanied by her husband. That is how they came to

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a start, walking away from Zhanjiang one fine fresh morning, singing farewell and merry songs as they went; the party moved along at happy speed, telling stories as they hiked through the mountains. They walked at good pace all day, stopping only twice for meals (which did not come quite as often as the children would have liked, I dare say). They had now strayed far away from the main roads, and contented themselves to tricky mountainous ones; they passed many villages with curious folk, until eventually they were buried so deeply in the mountains that there were no people left, no inns, no villages, and the roads grew increasingly worse. Long were the days as they rose higher and higher up the seemingly never-ending hills, constantly glooming in the shade as they trekked through dark foliage. Mr Chiu led the way. “We must not stray from this path,” he said one morning, as they awoke once more to stiff necks and numb feet. “We are in need of food, as well as rest in a reasonably comfortable place. I say! You will also need new garments. You have sweated through them as if you’d plunged headfirst into the sea.” They were asking him where he was making for, and he answered: “To a small tavern nearby – they call it Fahua. The innkeeper is an old friend of mine, whom I sent a message to, and is expecting us. We should be there by the end of the day.”

Still the party walked on, never looking back, determinedly urging themselves forward. There were many paths upon these mountains, but most of which were merely deceptions leading to nowhere or dead ends; also they had to be cautious about where they were walking, so as to not attract a possible ambush. Morning passed, afternoon came; but in the resolute silence they could not hear any sound of dwelling. At last, they arrived at a clear scrape of land, where a small building quite like Mr Chiu’s inn stood. The air down here was somewhat warmer, with the smell of oak and pine trees dazzling the children. Their spirits rose as they thought of the good warm dinner and comfy bed awaiting them there. Elizabeth already pictured herself curling into a ball next to the fireplace, whose chimney she could see emit smoke. As they drew nearer, a small, beefy man jogged out of the house, swinging his arms wildly over his head, shouting at them. She saw Mr Chiu stop dead ahead of her, spreading his arms out to prevent the children from walking any further. It was then that Elizabeth knew something was wrong. Though the Fahua landlord stood several yards away, she could hear him yell as though he were beside her.

“Comrades!” he bellowed, still gesticulating wildly. “Comrades! Walk no further, for Hong Kong has been conquered by Japan!”

The party stood frozen for several minutes. Then, they began to panic. And that is how their adventure began.

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New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Dulwich College Beijing, Chan, Elvis - 13, Fiction: Group 4

taring down, I am mesmerized by the receding tides that leave a glossy sheen on the beach of shingle. In an instant, the guano-splattered rocks magically morph into glistening pearls that washed up from the unforgiving depths of the ocean. The spray of the seawater distorts the lights for a moment, and

then it shimmers as it reveals a sunbow, proudly laying out its colours for all to admire. I reach my hand out in an attempt to catch the beam, but stop dead in my tracks when I hear the

deafening blare of an approaching junk. The water submerges the pebbles one again and waves ripple across the surface in an angry protest before dissipating into nothing. Leaping into the frigid water, I charge towards the approaching junk.

I have been waiting for this day my whole life! From this distance, I can faintly make out a figure frantically waving his arms around. It has to be

Pa! I rush towards the junk with renewed vigour, the steep descent forcing the water up to my shoulders. Even then, I tilt my head up and tiptoe in what I can only guess is the approximate direction of the junk. The sun hits my eyes in a blinding flash. I shut my eyes a fraction of a second too late, with the sun still dancing underneath my eyelids.

The junk is now so near that I can feel the thrum of the motors shaking me to the bone. It all feels

so familiar. After all this time that they left, I still remember the steady hum, the heavy swell, and the salty tang… I am never going to forget the tender feelings of love.

My frail frame can’t suppress the shivers that snake down my spine. It takes me a moment to

register that it isn’t the numbing seawater or the overcast skies. It is the pure thrill to see Pa again after all this time. Part of me feels like hugging him and never letting go, while another part of me feels like slapping him in the face for leaving me here for these twelve long years. I feel torn between the two extremes on the spectrum, each one tugging on me. While I puzzle over my first reunion with Pa in twelve years, the boat reaches shore. I snap back into reality and wade through the water as quickly as I can. For the first time, I have the chance to examine Pa’s features in detail.

He has grey, stormy eyes that tell stories of raging storms out at sea. He looks older than most men

of his age, but underneath his tanned and calloused skin hides a more youthful man. He wears a shaggy white beard - not in an attempt to look like a stereotypical fisherman, but just to keep his face warm on gusty, blustery mornings. It is unmistakably him.

Clutching hands, Ma and I step gingerly onto the deck and fall into Pa’s embrace. “I missed you two so much!” he mumbles. “Me too!” is all Ma can muster before breaking down and sobbing like a young girl. The mellowness of her voice feels a bit too quiet after hearing Pa’s gruff voice. They are about as

incompatible as oil and water; I stop to ponder how they came about liking each other in the first place.

“A fisherman’s first catch determines his fate. Good luck, boy!” he says in his gruff voice before slapping me on the back and handing a net over to me.

I cast my net into the water, silently mumbling prayers for a good catch. I close my eyes and

breathe in slowly. Suddenly, I feel a sudden jerk and clumsily hoist my net up. Time seems to stop.

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They turn their heads and stare expectantly at me with their breaths held. My heart pounds in my ears. It takes all my effort to pull the net up onto the deck. I feel it slipping away, its weight threatening

to pull me off board. I grimace when I feel my sweaty palms slip against the coarse rope of the net. I feel like I am going to tip over before I grasp onto the side for dear life.

They’re watching with widened eyes now. I regain balance and tug on the rope with all my might, eventually falling backwards onto the deck,

pulling the net behind me. It lands mere centimeters from my head, so close that I can feel the spray on my face. Hastily, I sit upright and my heart sinks.

The bag is full of pearls. I steal a glance at Pa, afraid to make eye contact with him. However, to my relief, he is grinning

from ear to ear like a clown, his crooked yellowed teeth showing. I furrow my eyebrows, trying to read his thoughts. But he manages to read mine first and, upon helping me to my feet, hugs me so tightly that I feel like I am choking to death. He doesn’t seem to notice at all, too overwhelmed by his surging emotions. It takes a few moments for him to get over his giddiness. “Fate is in your favour,” he finally manages to whisper.

I drag the net filled to the brim with pearls and sit cross-legged on the deck of the junk. I wipe beads of sweat from my brow, panting with exertion. I hear the most beautiful music when I pour them out: the tintinnabulation is faint as fairy bells. As I examine them one by one, I notice the individual personalities each pearl possessed. They show different eras in the history of the Pearl River Delta. Some are sentimental of the past, showing yellowed films of my ancestor rowing boats and hauling up nets full of pearls just like I had. Others are more forward-looking, showing high-resolution images of skyscrapers that disappear into the clouds.

I pick the very first pearl and the very last pearl that respectively represent the past and the future.

No matter how hard I try to put one on top of the other, they always slip apart. But if I place them gently side-by-side, they come together to form a larger, more beautiful picture. Just like Ma and Pa, as incompatible as they may seem, the future and the past can coexist alongside each other to form an interesting mix of both: skyscrapers next to junk boats, this is the present.

“It’s too heavy!” I hear Pa yelp out. He curses under his breath.

The boat sags. I thrust the pearls into the river, entrusting everything in its arms. “Didn’t you want to keep them? They are pretty special after all,” Pa asks. “Yes, but I’ll keep them at the bottom of the river where they belong, so that my descendants can

also admire their wonder and beauty!” The boat floats back up, and then speeds ahead towards the vast expanse of the ocean. I turn back,

waving my final farewell to the river. I know that the water will caress them with motherly love, pirouette alongside them with grace

and thrust a protective shield over them. Treasure these pearls, as they will be the last to appear, because the past, present and future are already in the hands of the knowing Pearl River Delta. Without me knowing, from the start to the end, the river has been connecting me with my ancestors, with my descendants, with Pa.

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Shattered: Tales of the Pearl River Delta German Swiss International Primary School, Iu, Alison - 15, Fiction: Group 4

iaojie would you like to buy the phone then?” The voice was cheerful, overenthusiastic.

She tilted her head slightly downwards in response and her eyes fell upon the worn red purse, she gripped in her hand. Those calloused, overworked, fingers desperately clinging onto a fragment of the past.

* * * Her thoughts took her back to a time long gone. She was running bare feet and without a care in the world. Her luscious black hair flowed freely in the wind as she closed her eyes, arms stretched out wide on either side, like a swallow taking flight. She felt her breath accelerating, the movement of air in her lungs getting faster and faster along with the motion of her chest, in and out, out and in. Her footsteps pattered on and on, sensing the gradual shifts in terrain along her daily path; the hard, gritty texture of the gravel pass giving way to a soft, bedding of leaves that lined the forest bed. She continued to charge on blindly with no sense of foresight. The footsteps suddenly halted at the foot of a tall banyan tree. She eyed the tree with a look of determination and started to climb. Positioning her limbs casually and without much thought, her arms started to move swiftly and adeptly of their own accord, as if she’d done this already way too many times in the past. Leaping with great ease from branch to branch she continued to push herself upwards, slight beads of perspiration gathering at the top of her forehead. If Baba knows I’m doing this he’ll really skin me alive. She chuckled softly to herself, her face breaking into a mischievous grin. There was no hint of fear in her eyes, no reservations, no insecurities. Closer, even closer, nearly there… Panting softly, her arms reached up to grab hold of the last and final branch as she propped herself up, leaning comfortably against the bark of another branch for support. Letting the coolness of the bark sink into the warmth of her flushed, pink skin she lay there, letting both feet dangle on either side of the branch, her slight frame fitting cozily into the arms of the banyan. Lifting her head up slightly, she gazed at the light hues of sapphire, pink and gold, blended into the canvas of the azure sky, the amalgamation of colours, soft yet powerful enough to draw her in, allowing her to immerse herself fully into the mystical beauty of the late afternoons at Changliu village. The place she called home. After she decided that she had rested enough she stood up on the branch and glanced back at the village. Men were now collecting what was leftover of today’s harvest in the fields in preparation for dinner and the women could be seen busily weaving wicker baskets near their homes. As usual they would be filling the air with scandalous new gossip about so and so or singing in unison while they worked, weaving rhythmically to the raw, yet heart-warming quality of hakka folk songs, the very songs they had grown up hearing their own mothers sing.

“X

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Will that be me one day? Is this all part of my destiny? These questions were left unanswered as she turned around to face forwards. She stood there frozen in time, staring unblinkingly at the blurred outlines of a collection of metallic, glassy, rectangles in the distance. Suddenly-as if being awoken from a spell, she climbed down the tree and ran back before she could be tempted by the vibrant city lights of Guangzhou, the energetic, bold, neon mixture of yellow, red, white and blue that had just been beckoning her a brief moment ago.

* * * “Xuehua, where have you been? I was worried sick! You bad girl, always making your Mama worry!” “Sorry”, she bowed her head. “I was just…just….” She blurted out nervously. I don’t want to hear excuses. Her father annunciate each word clearly, coldly. “Um…” Xuehua hesitated and stopped. “Oh come off the poor child, she’s just come home. Look at her! She’s all sweaty and tired from all that running.” Her mother intercepted. Xuehua looked her mother in the eyes and gave her a look of gratitude. “And please don’t embarrass yourself in front of your brother, he didn’t come all this way to see you give your daughter a hard time.” Ma added, giving Xuehua’s arm a comforting squeeze. “Fine. I’ll let you off this time, young lady, but next time- if there is a next time, I would really not like to be in your shoes.” Father warned. “Enough of that now, I have too many stories to tell you. Brother, you will never believe what good fortune I have come across in the city of Guangzhou in these last two decades.” Uncle leaned in, his mouth already wide open in a smile, unable to contain his excitement. “Let us eat and talk at the same time, your journey must have been tiring and you must be hungry by now. Here, have a piece of your favourite childhood hakka tofu.” Father was all smiles now as he placed a square of golden, fried tofu in uncle’s bowl. “You truly know me brother!” Uncle laughed, placing the tofu in his mouth. “Go on, go on what happened in the city? What’s it like?” Xuehua chided, impatient to find out. “I see you’ve got a curious one here. She’s just like a younger version of you, always looking for answers.” Uncle chuckled and proceeded to swallow, clearing his throat. “Me? Ha!” Father laughed, showing a slight hint of pride that he tried to conceal. “Please go on brother.” Father requested. “Alright, alright. Let’s start from a while back. Do you still recall the young, unqualified and completely clueless twenty year old I was, when I first set foot in Guangzhou? It was some time in the 1990s and the economy at that time had become way more liberal under Deng’s Open Door Policy of 1980. He mused, with the faint sign of a smile gradually appearing on his face.

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“What was the Open Door Policy?” Xuehua interrupted, face lit up with curiosity. “Basically, you see, foreigners were now allowed to set up businesses in China. The manufacturing industry also took off shortly after that and I was lucky enough to find a job in a factory on the east bank of the Pearl River Delta.” Uncle explained. Oh the Pearl River Delta…” He whispered. “It’s a true blessing, contributes to such a large amount of the GDP, wonderful economic zone.” He muttered to himself in an incoherent bundle. Pearl River Delta? I think I learnt about that in school… “As the years went by, workers’ wages kept on rising and inflating in the area of the delta and my stroke of luck finally arrived when I was recognised for my diligence and dedication. I rose from a position on the conveyor belt, to a supervisor, then manager and finally-into the office.” The intonation of his voice rose higher and higher in excitement. His eyes started to grow brighter at the remembrance of his progress but a slight glistening remained in them, a mark of the hardships and obstacles he had had to overcome. I’ll never forget those days.” Uncle’s voice quivered. “Now, today, in the year 2015, my friend and I are planning to start our own IT based private enterprise and I can’t believe I’m about be the owner of my very own company. ” Uncle exclaimed. He let out a long satisfiying sigh afterwards, one that seemed he had kept in him all along. “Guangzhou is a truly beautiful and mesmerising city…” He paused, placing his chopsticks down on his plate. “…And it’s all because of the mystical powers of the Pearl River Delta.” He finished. I want to witness those powers myself. “All of the economic growth and progress of China was and still is concentrated around the Delta and I have been dependent on this river in the last two decades. It is fair to say that without it, I wouldn’t have been able to sustain myself and I am ever grateful for its presence.” He continued. “The Pearl River Delta has been accompanying every one of my successes. To me, it is a symbol of hope, improvement and it is a window of opportunity, a chance to change my own fate and destiny.” He concluded. Change my own fate and destiny…maybe I could do that. Xuehua’s face changed, a slight glimmer of hope visible in her eyes. All eyes were on uncle. “I’m proud of you brother, it must have been hard.” Father responded, patting him on the shoulder. “When are you heading back?” Mother inquired. “Tomorrow, early morning.” Uncle replied. “Why don’t you stay longer?” She asked.

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“We want to start finalising the details of our new company as soon as-“ “Take me along with you.” Xuehua let out. A momentary period of silence descended upon the dining table as everyone looked at her with an expression of surprise, outrage, on her father’s part. Oh gosh…why did I say that? Now what? “Do you really mean that?” Father was cold, barely able to suppress his anger. “Do you want that darling?” Mother pursued, more gently. “I-I guess-I-I-Yes. I guess I do want that. I mean-I not only want, I more-than-want that.” Xuehua stammered. “You will not want that. Instead, you shall stay here in Changliu village, get married to a young man from this very village and carry on the tradition. As a woman, this is a responsibility you have to bear. It is your duty.” Father spat out, a menacing quality being found in his oddly contrasting, calm tone of voice. “Calm down dearest, we should be more understanding. She’s already been in this village for all 16 years of her life. She should have the chance to go out and explore the greater world out there if that’s what she wants.” Mother urged. “CALM? How do you expect me to calm? I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS!” Baba’s face grew bright red and he finally exploded into a fit of rage, throwing his chopsticks down on the table and stomping back to his room. “Sorry, I’ll go and talk to him.” Mama turned to Uncle. “I think I’d better be there as well.” Uncle added. They both followed Baba into the bedroom. Xuehua sat there, alone.

* * * “Do you really want that?” Ma’s voice resonated in her mind. I do. I really do. I don’t believe my life is meant to be just this. I refuse to believe that this is as far as I will ever get in life. Something greater awaits me, I’m sure of it. She placed her head on her pillow, and curled up underneath her blankets, a constant stream of thoughts circulating inside her head. Gradually, drifting…drifting…off to sleep. She awoke to someone gently shaking her. “Xuehua, Xuehua.” She rubbed her eyes and yawned. It was father. “Yes?” She answered cautiously.

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He sat down by her side and placed a torn, red purse into her hands. Xuehua sat up in bed, her mouth wide open. “So-are you saying?” She ventured, unable to conceal the excitement in her voice. “-Yes, “ He answered solemnly. “OH BABA!” Xuehua wrapped her arms around him and repeated thank you over and over again like a broken record, her voice being all muffled in his cotton shirt.

* * * “I guess this means farewell.” She whispered, stroking the bark of the banyan tree. She gave the village one long last look, clambered down and ran to join her uncle at the bus stop. The Pearl River Delta awaits.

* * * She cautiously stepped off the bus, feelings of apprehension building up inside of her as she found herself being instantaneously swept along by currents of people, given hardly any time to process what was happening around her. Her mouth soon fell wide open, as her eyes befell the towering skyscrapers in all their grandeur and majesty, their tops, piercing into the fluffy white peaks of the baby-blue sky, blue tinted glass panels glittering magically under the midday sun. She soon started to grow self conscious as she scrutinized the people around her. They were like aliens. Different. Dressed in black and white suits they walked around muttering, some shouting, eyebrows knitted and gesturing frantically, all this time clutching a metallic oblong to their ears. She wanted to be like them. She wanted one of those magical oblongs as well. She continued to walk, immersed in her thoughts. Suddenly, the honk of a loud blaring car horn to her right jolted her back to reality as a taxi driver stuck his head out of the window and spat a perfect, runny, light yellow ball onto the road, adding a few cuss words while at it. Startled, but conscious of what she needed to do she waved her arms exaggeratedly at the driver and hopped on. She showed him the address her uncle had written, on the small slip of paper she had been clenching tightly in the palm of her hand and she reclined comfortably, arms folded in front of her chest. Welcome to Guangzhou. After thirty minutes, she finally arrived in front of a squat, grey, dilapidated building. Exhausted from her day’s travels, she slowly trudged up three grey steps and knocked weakly on the door. A middle-aged man answered and helped her with her luggage. The door slammed shut.

* * * Back hunched, eyes lowered, wisps of hair dangling over her face. Xuehua sat there, unrecognisable. There were dark circles underneath her eyes and her eyes had hollowed out, sinking into her face due to extreme periods of sleep deprivation. Her skin had assumed an unhealthy pallor and the colour in her cheeks had long been gone. Her body was still, unmoving. A mere shell of what she was before. Only her fingers moved, rotating a screwdriver neatly three times as each metallic phone case flowed down the moving black belt, her actions so rehearsed that it was perfectly synchronized with the rhythmic

Fiction: Group 4

whirring of the machine. Silence. There were twelve of them in one room but no talking was allowed. No more than one toilet break was allowed per shift. No daydreaming. No fun. She felt like she was drowning under water, there was no space in her lungs and she couldn’t breathe no matter how hard she tried to. Squished. Helpless. Every day was the same. Breakfast. Shift 1. Lunch. Shift 2. Dinner. Overtime. Nighttime activities. It was a never-ending cycle, a Mobius strip of her life in Guangzhou. I’m losing hope. The Pearl River. I must see it.

* * *

She felt richer than she had ever been before. New clothes. New food. New friends. It seemed as if she had more choices in her life yet at the same time, a gnawing gut instinct told her that she didn’t. She was now sucked into a void of Guangzhou unable to escape, stripped of her decision to choose, in a lifestyle that was both monotonous and dreary. She had no power over what she did during the day and she had already lost the will to speak out. It all made no difference. I thought leaving the village would free me from the shackles of tradition, but am I truly free, or have I just entered into yet another prison? She thought of all those hours she spent repeating the same action aimlessly with no purpose in mind, the blur of days into months into years, all identical and she started to recognise her own naivety that day on the banyan tree. Appearance is not always reality. I’ve been a fool.

* * * “Xiaojie, Xiaojie?” The voice shattered her recollections in an instance. She walked away. Dazed. Not knowing why, she started to run, a wild look in her eyes. She ran continuously, never stopping until she reached the Pearl River, breathless. She stared vacantly at the glittering blue surface, seemingly serene and tranquil yet, upon closer scrutiny, she started to notice the hidden layers of murky brown created by the filth of human waste for the first time, since she arrived. What am I doing? She looked up at what used to be light hues of sapphire, pink and gold that blended into the canvas of the azure sky; but now, she could only see a shadow smothered by Deng’s Open Door Policies, suffocated with industries, engrossed with tall blinding lights that hung and hanged the people’s dreams and hopes. My dreams and hopes. Are they hung, or hanged?

Fiction: Group 4

The Dead Fish And Other Dreams Good Hope School, Chik, Eva - 15, Fiction: Group 4

ritain, 1925. I stared at the fish in the coffin. “Farewell, Pearl.” No one has ever seen Pearl. Only me. Now that I remember, him as well. The ghost fish, as the

staff in the aquarium would call it. They heard about it, its appearance and tales, but never seen it. Some of my closer friends would call me cruel; hiding such a mystic creature and praising it in front of them, but never let them see its beauty. I would always say, “I cannot show you because I made a promise.” Promises are important, I think. No matter it is a promise about getting sweets at the confectionary for your child or a promise you made about not showing a fish to anyone ever. Pearl was lowered into the ground. My memories at Pearl River surface above my head. 1911, China. I have followed my parents to a remote village next to the Pearl River. My parents never told me where exactly we went. So, my parents and I boarded the ship headed to China, carrying suitcases of research materials and a limited knowledge of Chinese, we settled down in one of those village houses. As a sensible 10 year old boy, I started looking for friends to play with. There was a boy I lived next to. He has long braided hair, skinny and wore tunic-like clothing. Whenever I say hello to him, he smiles at me but never say a word. As days passed by I cannot stand the boredom of the rustic life, so I decided befriend him. It was a bright morning. I went to play in the river. When I was walking along the river bank, I saw him washing some clothes. I bent down, and using my crummy Chinese, I said, “Hello. My name is Arthur. What is your name?” He stared at me for a moment. “H-hi. I am Cheung.” “Do you want me to help with the clothes?” “Y-yes, thank you.” We picked up the clothes and walked along the river bank. “So… How old are you?” “I’m ten. You?” “Me too! You know, this place is like, really pretty! Especially the river. When the sun shines, the light reflects and it’s like… it’s like, a movable drawing!” Cheung look at me with shining eyes. His black eyes black eyes mixed with the light, like coins in the well when light reflects. As round as pearls, his pupils went even bigger, even rounder. His lips, from two corners slowly rises, flashed a bring smile, took the clothes on my hands, bowed, and ran off. Ever since that day, we have been inseparable. We went to play in the mountains, to pick flowers in the woods. We’d collect water from the river, bring it home, and then return to the river to play with the tiny fishes. We lived in the final months of the Qing dynasty. So, when he still had his long hair, I like to tease him by putting flowers in his braid. He always flung his head vigorously so to express his distaste for it. Every time he does that it reminded me of Sally back home, always shaking the flowers out of her hair the boys have planted. It was like a tornado of petals. The year 1912 came. It was February and the Qing dynasty have collapsed. Everyone can now cut off their braids and have short hair, like modern men. Everyone was eager to cut off their braids, so does Cheung. I offered to cut his hair, and I showed him some hairstyles from the magazines my parents owned. He chose a style, I tried to cut and style it in that way. I wouldn’t say it was a good haircut, but Cheung did not say a word. His eyes went teary and start rambling. “After so many years—we Han Chinese finally got rid of the Jurchen people! So many years of dishonour—finally washed away like the dirt in the river!” He held my hands and said thank you for releasing him from humiliation. I never knew he was the patriotic type. Spring blew the worrisome winter away and the trees that are dead came back to life. So, Cheung and I took a basket, went to look at the flowers that blossomed. We went to our favourite tree, next to the river and around the deepest part of the village. That tree was huge, very suitable for climbing. Most of all, it was beautiful. We all have an eye for beauty. People in my life often spoke of boys should not look at trees and exclaim its’ beauty, but I thought that if boys cannot like things that are pretty, then what is the point of life? To live, is to enjoy, to appreciate what God has installed for us. I don’t care if society says it’s okay or not,

B

Fiction: Group 4

because all these things are created for all humans, and man or not, you have the right to enjoy it. Appreciate it. All these thoughts, while we were walking, came to my head. As we walk by, we saw the river was already filled with flower petals. All the colours you could ever imagine: ivory, pink, lavender, light blue, pale yellow… I was surprised at the beauty of this place. Can anything I have ever seen in Britain compare to this sight? I have always thought, we were English, we should do everything right and above others. But now, boy, I was wrong! In this obscure little village, was blessed with rivers and mountains that surpassed anything I have ever seen in Europe, I dare say. When we were about to reach the tree, we saw a sea of flowers already claiming its place on the grass. Cheung looks at those flowers and said to me, “Isn’t this beautiful? Look at that one,” he pointed at one that was particularly huge. “Let’s gather them!” I nodded and we start picking up flowers that have fallen. Very soon, the basket was filled with variations of white and pink flowers and petals. We left the basket next to the tree and went to the river. I wanted to get in, to swim in the sea of flowers, but Cheung warned me that I will catch a cold if I did. So, I reached my hand into the cool water and scooped up some flowers. The water, as clear as crystal, slipped slowly through my fingers drip by drip. “Like raining diamonds”, Cheung said. The season of raining diamonds went by with the summer sunshine. Leaves fell and cover the ground like a carpet. We played in the fields, picked apples and cherries from the trees. We went back to my home. While we were eating the fruits, Cheung asked me, “Hey, what’s that you wear around your neck all the time?” “Oh, it’s a cross.” “What’s a cross?” I went over to my bookshelf and picked out the Bible. “Have you ever heard of God?” “No…but…I like his work?” We both laughed like idiots. I didn’t know Cheung has this strange sense of humour. We spent the whole afternoon indoors, with me explaining Christianity to him. After a while, Cheung said that ever since the Qing fell, he wanted to have more exposure to the world. I offered to give him an English name. I named him Albert, after my best friend in Britain who moved to Poland. Al for short. But still, I like calling him Cheung better. It gives him his identity, his identity of being Chinese; of being different from anyone other nationalities in this world. Keeping his original name, I think, in a way, protects the thousand years of traditions and culture passed on in his motherland. For a few months, my parents and I left for another village to do some more research. I told Cheung I’ll be back. My parents and I travelled upwards along the river, and after spring came we went back. “But let me tell you something, the water up there definitely do not have flowers covering the surface.” I said to Cheung, pointing to the river. “Huh? Without the surrounding environment a river is just a river!” “I know!” I whined, “It’s so boring! When Spring came I thought at least I could collect some flowers, but the flowers there are not blooming!” “All I will say is that’s just sad.” “Hey, Cheung…” I said as I slowly sneak behind him. “What.” Cheung starred at me. “Do you think flowers bloom so pretty in here because of your presence?” Cheung didn’t say anything. He stared at me with a blank expression on this face. He kicked me in my shin. Ouch. A bird flew above our daydreaming heads. Cheung pointed at it and told me a song his grandmother taught him to sing when he is a little boy. It goes like “little bird, little bird, how free and pretty you look in the sky. Soar high, and if you’re ever hurt, don’t cry, don’t fret, you’re not alone, you’re coming home, home to the Pearl River where you belong…” I never forgot the words to this nursery. It was the season of raining diamonds. We can finally go into the river and play. As we were splashing water at each other, we saw this fish swimming to us from afar. It was so beautiful. Maybe it’s the sun; maybe its summer; but the fish seemed to have rainbow scales and sparkling fins. In the river shining like tiny crystals

Fiction: Group 4

would have been there instead of water, we caught the fish and put it in the basket. We got out of the water, carrying the basket and ran to Cheung’s house. He has this huge tank in his backyard. We filled the tank with water we got from the river and put the fish inside. Only now do I see how the fish really look like. It has bright scales, big sparkling eyes, and fins that looked like satin flowing under water. We both decided that this fish is so beautiful that it can only be possible under the works of Mother Nature, and only here, in the Pearl River can this fish be created. Since we caught the fish, I went to his house every day to look at the fish. We would then walk to the river, collect some water so to keep the water fresh in the tank every other day. We decided to give him the name Pearl, after all we caught it in the Pearl River. In Chinese, it also means precious and a treasure. This fish has become our most prized treasure. We promised each other to refuse showing it to anyone ever, not even our parents, solely because we are the ones who caught it. Now that I think of it, it’s kind of silly, but we were boys, silly little boys. Until now, we are the only ones who have ever seen Pearl. It was a cold winter morning when we found out a thin layer of ice started to form on the surface of the water. We were so afraid that Pearl might die, we boiled the water we collected from the river and wait for it to cool down to the temperature of the summer water. We made sure the water was exactly how it is in the river during summer and moved the tank into the house. I was quite puzzled why the water froze in the tank but not in the river, and Cheung said a small tank of water can be froze but not a river, just like a man can break one stick on his own but not a bunch of sticks. The year passed by quickly. With letters from my relatives in Britain, they told us that the European world is in a mess. Conflicts between nations has been strong as ever and a war might begin. Sometimes when I help Cheung in the field, I can’t help but think that this place, this peaceful, pretty village in contrast with my beloved home, Europe. We always say it is our burden, the “white men’s burden” to bring civilization to the world. I don’t see how that is needed. In this place, people live together peacefully. In this place, they feed on the same river and do not go to war over who owns what in the river. We do we bring to the world exactly? Only teardrops. We bring teardrops, we bring war, and we bring violence to the world. How many times do we have to fight, do we have to cry before we do it right? We together with the rest of the world, should bring calm after the storm together. But what do we really do? We blame others. We make false proclamations. We are not united. “My greatest wish,” I told Cheung, “is to see the world stop fighting with each other because of silly things. I hope that people will stop taking things that are not themselves. Stop interfering other nation’s decisions and stop trying to justify wrong doings with concepts from 1832. I hope, really do hope I can see these wishes fulfilled before I die.” “Maybe, Arthur. I do hope your noble dreams can be fulfilled. I’ll wait forever and a lifetime for that to happen as well.” I smiled. We went over to Pearl. It was still shining, heaven in its eyes. Pearl is like the sun in my eyes. So does this place, this river, everything here. Late July, 1914. The First World War has started. My hopes have been confirmed as just a dream. But dreams don’t make people scream. A few days later, my parents informed me that we are going back to Britain. Since the war stared, we have to go back and handle some issues. “Hey Cheung, I have to go back…” “I always knew this day would come…but why so fast?” “The war has started. I have to go back.” “Wait.” Cheung ran back to his house and came back with things in his hands. “Here.” Upon my departure, Cheung gave me the fish in the tank and a bottle of the Pearl River water. He bid me goodbye and said, “Please remember this place and me. The years with you as my friend have been the best years in my life.” “I will. I always will remember the river, you and everything here. In a world that’s quick to change, this place is the only place that I know of, that will always stay the same.” The day I board the ship, it’s like my last night in the world.

Fiction: Group 4

1925, Britain. The war ended ages ago, but the aftershocks live on. At a fish’s funeral, I stared at the coffin in the ground. A bird flew over my head. I thought of Cheung and his song. “Little bird, little bird, how free and pretty you look in the sky. Soar high, and if you’re ever hurt, don’t cry, don’t fret, you’re not alone, you’re coming home, home to the Pearl River where you belong…”

Fiction: Group 4

Salt Good Hope School, Filleul, Sarah - 15, Fiction: Group 4

ould you like a drink, sir?” A woman’s face shifted into vision as I slowly opened my eyes and sat up groggily in my

seat. All around me were the ambience of soft chatter and dim lights. A short chime sounded from above me as the seat belt signal lit up, and that was when I realized that I was actually on a flight flying from JFK back to Hong Kong. While having been sleeping in such an awkward position, my legs felt numb and the woman caught my attention again. The woman, who happened to be an air stewardess, glanced at me with concern as she steadied her grip on her cart while the plane changed directions. I quickly ordered a diet coke and sipped as the stewardess went off. Then, I plugged in my headphones to listen to some old jazz on the inflight radio. Wearing a suit on a 13-hour plane ride was definitely the worst idea I’ve ever made. But business is business, right? I took off my jacket and loosened my tie in distaste. About an hour later, I slowly drifted off to sleep in the low light and some slow blues again. Drink long forgotten, I suddenly smelled something much more familiar than the dry, scratchy air of the cabin. It was rather pleasing, I thought, but what could it be? Could it actually be- I blinked away the fog in my eyes as I happened to find myself standing in a small room with a low ceiling. Boxes crowded inside of the microscopic room, and the dusty wooden floor was littered with bright plastic slippers and a child’s homework book. The room was almost smaller than the bathroom in my house, and a creaky bunk bed was sided against the cramped space. The morning sun poured into the room through a peephole of a window beside the bed. I could see dust motes floating around me, and I resisted the urge to sneeze. The room looked surprisingly familiar. “Ah-Shing!” Wait, who’s calling me? “Where are you?” A child’s voice pierced through the silence as the door slammed open and its hinges screamed. A girl was standing in front of me, and she didn’t seem to notice my presence as she bounded forward and climbed up the creaking bed frame. As she threw off the sheets on the top bunk, and a sudden realisation came into my mind. The girl was my elder sister Siu-Yuet, who happened to age about 40 years backward. I caught a glimpse of a wrinkled wall calendar in the corner and saw that today was 14th of July 1977. I gaped in awe as the girl sighed in frustration and skipped through the doorway again. Apparently, she hadn't found what she was looking for. A doll, perhaps. Am I back in that shabby place in Hung Hom again? Trapped with curiosity, I tread carefully around the room just to find that I was see-through when my foot went through a tin box on the floor. Squeezing through the narrow hallway, the living room came into view, and I followed Siu-Yuet out of the house without sparing a glance at the living room.

“W

Fiction: Group 4

Before I turned eighteen, I used to live in Hong Kong, the so-called Pearl of the East, a spot in a great map called the China. Or rather, a part of the infamous Pearl River Delta. Those were the good old days, I suppose. That sort of life before high school was always taken for granted, then I went to America for the sake of my university education. The memories in this city are faded and had missed some pieces, but the salt of the Hung Hom’s sea never left my skin when I went to study in the University of California. Big city, West Coast. The oceans were always around somehow. Seeing my sister slip around the small alleyway that connected my house to the town centre, I trailed after her as she expertly glided in between the maze of bicycles parked along the shops. The warm light seeped through rails of hanging clothes and signage boards from above. Patches of light were cast on the girl as her hair caught the glow as well. Siu-Yuet was much faster than a man in his forties like me, so by the time she stopped in Dad’s textile factory in the street corner, I had already ran out of breath. I remembered Dad’s factory very well. It was cramped like a can of sardines that Mom would serve for dinner, and your ears would thrum with the the constant clink-clank of machines. It was kind of unpleasant to be there, and every day after school, Me and Siu-Yuet would race each other all the way from school to the factory. Then, we would do our homework in the small wooden table in the factory store room, then when we were done we would help with moving rolls of cloth around in the building. Sometimes, it would be squatting next to a bag of beads as we made little bracelets that sold for a cent. And on some days, we would just hang around on the rooftop of the factory with a few friends from school that we brought along. There was Chung, Ming-Zai and Mei-Ling who always brought things to play with, like limited edition stickers or a tin box filled up with grasshoppers or bugs of any kind. My favourite bug was a particularly large beetle I found in one of Mom’s plants. The funny thing was, I named it after John Lennon after listening to Mom’s records of the Beatles. She loved to tell me about how she was there when they visited Hong Kong in 1964. She was one of the ecstatic fans that attended their concert while screaming with all the air in her lungs, and I giggled as she described the scene when I I continued to follow my sister up the narrow stairs that were sandwiched by the peeling painted walls. Workers scuttled about the corridors as they carried goods to different rooms, their loud chatter accompanied with the loud hum of the textile machines. Rows of equipment along with boxes of fabric piled against the wall, and Siu-Yuet halted to a stop as she knocked on the door at the end of the corridor. That was my Dad’s office, and a “Come on in!” came faintly from behind the wooden door. That was strange. Dad never let us children into his office. Siu-Yuet turned the handle and went inside followed by an unnoticed me. Father was sitting in his office chair along with Mother, who sat in a wooden chair at the end of the cluttered room. Box files and folders filled with papers stacked on top of each other on the shelves, and family photos were seen on his desk. I moved my vision to the man sitting before me. My father looks pretty much the same His gelled up black hair matched the colour of his suit, and the familiar smoke that came out of his cigarette smelled exactly like home. With the same stern expression as always, he breathed out a cloud of grey into the air as Mother stared in disapproval. “Oh stop it, you stupid man, you’ll poison the children one day!” Mother exclaimed as the smoke turned into a wisp as it flew out the window. Siu-Yuet stifled a cough. “Where is Wai-Shing?” asked Father as he pressed the cigarette bud into an ashtray and glanced at my sister, “Didn’t I ask you to bring him over? I have news to announce.” “I couldn’t find him anywhere. He’s probably playing with Chung or Ming-Zai again,” came the reply.

Fiction: Group 4

Mother shook her head as she continued to read the newspaper while Father stood up and faced the view outside the window. “There’s no hope to that boy anymore,” he closed the blinds. “Well, you’d better tell him afterwards, then. We’re moving the factory to Guangdong in July and setting up the company there instead.” My sister stood and stared in confusion,” But why, Father? What’s wrong with Hong Kong?” “The economy’s not turning out well, you see. We’re moving for the sake of the whole company’s future, but a little girl like you would never understand this anyway. Everything will be arranged according to plan. We’ll also be staying there for a while during the summer when I inspect the company.” She pouted and sulked. “But I don’t wanna leave!” It’s already June!” “There’s not up to you to decide, you know?” Mother remained indifferent as Siu-Yuet started to snivel about leaving her friends and ran out of the door with a bang. I followed suit and walked through the door. That’s strange. I don’t remember this room in the factory. This must be our uncle’s house when we went to stay for the summer. Siu-Yuet was sitting quietly behind her desk now, and it appears that she had grown up a little. Her face had angled out, and her previously short black hair was now tied into a ponytail. She looked about fifteen, and she dangled her legs to the beat of the music from her new Walkman. I peered curiously at what she was writing from behind her shoulder. It was some exercises for simplified Chinese words, and she closed the book with a sigh. Then, she reached towards an old phone in the end of the table and dialled the circular pad. A while later, she began to speak. “Mei-Ling! It’s a while since we talked, how are you lately?” “…” My sister was four years older than Mei-Ling, but they still got along like sisters. “Oh? Really? You got a boyfriend?” “That’s hilarious, ahahah!” “I know, I really miss the old traditional Chinese, the simplified ones are such a pain! but Mother says I’ll have to learn it if I want to deal with those mainlanders.” I stood in silence as she continued to gossip on the phone with the other girl, who so happened to be my wife ten years later. Mei-Ling also moved to America to study business in uni, and that was when we got closer and finally ended up to where we are now. Who would’ve thought a childhood friend of my sister would finally become a part of our family?

Fiction: Group 4

Then, I realised that by this time, my family would have moved to a larger house in the suburbs of Guangdong already. That was when Father was never at home, always leaving for the city to work I looked at the rows of small houses outside of the window. Dusk settled over the rooftops of the houses and cast a blazing glow over the hills. “Alright then, you continue with your work and I’ll do mine.” “What? You want to speak to Wai-Shing? He seems to be busy at the moment, out catching bugs again, I presume.” Ah, yes. I was never around the house. I met a few friends during the summer and went to their houses to play. Those boys had dialects mixed in with their Cantonese, but we played like any twelve-year old boy would. The woods were our haven, and we caught little fish and creatures by the beach that was a fifteen-minute walk away from our houses. “Don’t be disappointed, silly! Go talk to your boyfriend instead!” Siu-Yuet laughed,” Alright, I’ll talk to you soon!” She put down the phone and stretched her arms, “Where on earth is he anyway?” I smiled. I was never to be found until it was time for dinner, and this time in the mainland was like an adventure, my own little expedition. I don’t remember the details, but all I could remember was missing home at times as I sat on the rooftops of the houses with the stars for company. The movement of chairs snapped me out of my trance, and my sister headed towards the door. I followed again, and this time, a different timeline awaited me. The familiar scent of the sea exploded in my nostrils as I found my sister and our childhood friends standing on the docks of Hung Hom Bay. It was the fall of 1986, and Siu-Yuet looked about twenty already, and a familiar man stood beside her. He was James, a boy she met when she went to America to study; only to become her boyfriend, then her husband three years later. She talked to him in semi-fluent English, and he understood despite the accents she kept in her words. Chung and Ming-Zai were also there, talking to the two. All hints of childish scrawniness gone, leaving only traces of the same face from before. The setting sun gleamed over the waves that were slowly disappearing by the reclamation by the bay. I found my younger leaning against one of the railings near the sea. The seabirds soared despite the loud construction noise coming from underneath. Mei-Ling stood next to me watching my sister, and she turned to me as she adjusted the hairpins in her fringe. The sea breeze ruffled her hair and she smiled weakly at me. “Guess this is the last day, isn't it?” I saw myself nod curtly and take out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes from my pocket. The sound of the sea mixed with the deafening machines. It doesn’t go well, it really doesn’t. Wai-Shing, 18 years old, offered the packet to Mei-Ling and she shook her head. “I don’t smoke,” she turned around to look at the dark waves far away,” And so should you.” “Mm.”

Fiction: Group 4

The silence continued for a while as Mei-Ling fidgeted with the ends of her hair. I lit it up and brought it to my mouth. Young me blew smoke into the air and it cascaded upwards towards the sky. I sighed, and she mimicked. James came over with my sister and all of them started talking about America. I stood on the outside, still smoking and remaining furtive until James came over and grinned at me. “So, looking forward to West Coast?” I blinked and tried to think of a way not to embarrass myself with my limited English. “Uh…yes, yes. Looking so forward to it. It is going to very exciting.” I laughed at young me. I never forgot how hard it was for me to reach the level where I would no longer struggle with speaking English. It wasn’t easy at first, but living in America for more than twenty years has done me justice. Siu-Yuet smirked and said in Cantonese, “Guess who’s now regretting the times spent sleeping in English class.” “Shut up.” The others laughed along with her, and I noticed blush coming up to my cheeks. “You guys will get used to it, no worries,” said my sister as she looked at me and Mei-Ling with a smile of reassurance, “You’ll be back by no time.” Wrong, I thought. I started to walk away from the group and myself. I found myself staring at the sea again. Soon, all of it will be gone and the construction of Whampoa will be completed. I never got to see it, and that time was the last time I looked at the remaining bits of Hung Hom Bay. I looked up and found that everyone was gone. The air changed again, and I realised that I was no longer standing on the docks of Hung Hom, but the sandy beaches of West Coast in California instead. Palm trees, sunglasses and umbrellas. The foreign sun beat down on my back and children shouted as they played along the .It was the first time I went to a proper beach with university friends. I saw myself sitting under a parasol with a few cans of beer on my side as I buried my head in English as a Second Language vol.3. My friends were all out on the beach and playing, but I was never the social type, I suppose. I looked around and spotted Mei-Ling standing and playing in the water with her new friends. Anna and Rachel, if I had remembered correctly. I marvelled at the sight of the beach, but it was only a background to her. She never really changed in her looks, I thought. I edged closer to get closer to her, only to find that my feet were getting wet. The closer I wanted to get to her, water began to wash over my body, covering my knees and eventually my chest. Mei-Ling screamed in glee as Anna flung a spray of water, then she dived into the sea with her hair flowing behind her.

Fiction: Group 4

I dived along, only to realise that I could no longer see her due to the splashes of water and bubbles surrounding her. I tasted salt on my tongue and let out a large breath without wanting to. My feet could no longer touch the bottom, and I kicked frantically as the sea soaked my shirt and covered my head and blackened my vision. The sea was calling me back. “Sir, we’ve landed already.” My eyes opened frantically as I gripped the edges of the seat. The air stewardess looked at me with concern as I came back to my senses. I looked at the empty cabin then outside of the window. “Hong Kong?” The air stewardess blinked in confusion, “Yes, sir. We’re in Hong Kong.” Ah. I gathered my luggage hastily and left the plane. While waiting for a taxi, I let out a breath of relief as I waited for one to take me home. I could almost taste the salt of the sea.

Fiction: Group 4

Eternal Effulgence Good Hope School, Law, Maggie - 15, Fiction: Group 4

stared out of the window. Everything I saw was dusty. I had begun to get used to living in this barren city but I couldn’t help longing for the life I had before. The glamour of our cosmopolitan city was now just a memory.

The entire Pearl River Delta was catastrophically polluted. Severe pollution first struck Guangzhou. It then spread to Zhuhai, Macau, Shenzhen, and eventually Hong Kong. The large number of vehicles and manufacturing factories, mostly run by Hong Kong manufacturers since 1998, filled the air with particulates, sulfur oxides, nitrogen oxides, carbon monoxide, ammonia…… It was so intense we had to wear masks outdoors. Worse still, the tap water was yellowish. Did this kill us? No. Did this drive us mad? Yes. The detrimental substances in the contaminated water and air attacked the frontal lobe of the cerebrum of the human brain. Some people went crazy, succumbing to emotional turmoil and madness. My mother was one of them. Sometimes she screamed and threw things at the wall for hours. Sometimes she curled up like a ball and hid herself under the covers. Whenever I saw her like this, needles unceasingly pricked my heart. “Maia?” A voice jerked me back to reality. “Are you alright?” asked Nathan, my best friend since I was young. His parents and my father died in a traffic accident five years ago. My mom had let him move in with us since then. I remembered us clinging to each other, bawling our eyes out.

I shove the haunting memories into the dark, silent place in my mind that was getting deeper and more crowded each day. “I’m worried about my mom,” I mumbled. He nodded with empathy. “Perhaps we could go out for a walk?” Once we stepped out the door-case, the howling wind slapped me across my pale face. My mask made me feel a bit claustrophobic. My breaths were always shorter here outside, as if my lungs were desperate for oxygen. My eyes stung a little from the dust. The swirling fog of dust enveloped me. I could barely see anything more than 5 metres away. Even sunlight couldn’t penetrate the cloud of dust. A gloomy shadow engulfed this alien city. My foot hit something. I looked down. A dead body lay with his eyes wide open and his mouth gaping.

I screamed, tumbling backward. Feeling lightheaded, I doubled over and threw up my breakfast until I dry-heaved.

Nathan took me by the elbow and gently steered me away from the grotesque scene. “There’s a ParknShop ahead. Let’s get you some water,” he tried to console me, rubbing circles on my back.

“We’re running out of food at home. We should get some,” I reminded him when we were inside the store. Since my mom got sick, we had been solely dependent on our savings so we tried to be as frugal as possible.

My throat was so acidic from my vomit that it felt like fire burning. I gulped down the water so fast that I almost choked. “I’m okay. Let’s go,” I croaked, cradling the vegetables and meat in my arms like invaluable treasures. While we were walking, my mind floated million miles away, the image of my mom tearing a blanket into sheds replaying over and over in my head like an endless cassette tape. “Let’s recite a poem, Maia,” Nathan sensed that I got carried away by my thoughts. He always did. In this insane world, we recited poems and clung to the beauty of words, keeping ourselves sane.

“Do not go gentle into that good night,” I began. “Old age should burn and rave at close of day,” he went on, smiling. This poem never failed to

give us renewed vigour to endure, even during dark era. “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” “Though wise men at their end know dark is right—” We walked side by side and immersed

ourselves in the poem. Suddenly I felt someone bumped into me. Hands gripped the groceries in my arms and pulled them away from me. Instinctively I tried to pull them back and kept a death grip on our food, our source of life.

I

Fiction: Group 4

A scorching pain shot up my shoulder. Time slowed down as tears flooded my eyes and streamed down my cheeks like beads falling off a broken necklace. I glanced down my arm. A gush of blood poured out of a gory wound. I opened my mouth to scream but no sound came out. My breaths came out in puffs and hisses. I struggled to draw air into my lungs. My brain blocked out everything except the pain, the excruciating, paralyzing pain. Black spots swam in my vision and my knees buckled. “Maia! Good grief!” I vaguely felt Nathan caught me. “Maia! Can you hear me? Oh gosh…” I floated in and out of consciousness but my mind lost the battle and I plunged into darkness.

*** My eyelids were as heavy as steel. I blinked groggily and found myself lying on my own bed. A

pale face with furrowed eyebrows was right above me. Nathan began to gabble, “Maia, are you okay? Can you talk? Are you still dizzy? Do you need

some water? Do you—” “Nathan,” I interrupted, “What happened?” “Don’t you remember? Oh gosh, you aren’t having post-traumatic amnesia, are you? Do you

remember your own name? Do you—” I caught at his sleeve. “Nathan, I’m fine. I don’t have memory loss, okay?” He remained edgy. “Tell me how many fingers I’m holding up.” “Three. I really am fine.” I lied. My left forearm throbbed with pain. I tried to move it but winced. “No, you’re not. You’re stabbed. The robber stabbed you with a knife.” “So our food is gone?” “The food doesn’t matter,” his voice faltered, “as long as you are safe.” I exhaled slowly. “Look at what the world has become. Humans now hurt others to survive. I can’t

imagine how they can bring themselves to stab someone just for food.” I paused as a shudder swept over me, “How do these people face themselves when they know they’ve done something so despicable?”

He sighed. “That’s why I’ve always hated the phrase “survival of the fittest”. People do anything to survive.”

Survival of the fittest. Charles Darwin said it was a natural process. Only the fittest would survive in this merciless world. Did it grant people the right to hurt others so as to become the fittest? Did it mean we could discard morality when it came to survival?

“Humanity is cruel,” I mumbled. Two weeks had passed before I could use my left arm again.

*** My mom had dark circles, a waxy, yellowish face and matted hair. Her condition had gotten

worse. She screeched and cried and clawed at the mattress. I could do nothing but embraced her and tried to soothe her with reassuring whispers.

One day we heard groundbreaking news on the radio. “Doctors have been receiving reports of people seeing purple and green patches in their field of

vision. After thorough investigation, it is discovered that the symptom is harmless and is a sign that their brains are producing athopacine, a rare chemical that can be used to cure those who suffer from emotional stability due to the atrocious air and water quality. A brain containing athopacine can cure up to 2000 patients with madness. The Central Government is persuading those with athopacine to donate their brains to save those tormented by insanity…”

“My mom,” I gasped. For the first time in forever, a sudden surge of hope that my mom might recover coursed through my veins.

“Maia, I don’t mean to disappoint you but do you think the people with athopacine will really sacrifice their lives to save strangers?” Nathan sounded doubtful.

Snow now replaced the warmth in my veins. “They have to… please… my mom…” I stammered, then groaned. People stabbed others to fight for their own lives, and now I expected them to sacrifice their lives to save my mom? I felt like a deflated balloon, with air being sucked out of me until there was nothing left.

*** We returned home after we went out for food. Nathan walked ahead of me as we walked towards

my mom’s bedroom. He stopped so abruptly at the doorway of the room that I bumped into him. He stood frozen,

rooted to the ground like a statue. “Nathan?” I asked, startled.

Fiction: Group 4

He spun around and grabbed my shoulders so fast I shrieked. He dragged me across the living room and pinned me to the couch.

“Nathan, what’re you doing?” He looked stunned and oddly shaken. I could feel him quivering. He stared into my eyes, “Maia, I want you to be as calm as you possibly can, okay?” “What? Why?” I managed to force out. I had never been so bewildered and flustered in my life.

My heart was beating so hard I thought it would bounce out of my mouth. He inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were darkened with

dread. “Your mom committed suicide.” I froze. My stomach sank. The ground was pulled out underneath me. “What?” I let out a shaky

breath. I must have heard him wrong. “I’m so sorry, Maia.” He must be joking. He had to be. I couldn’t breathe. Gasps and wheezes escaped my throat. “I…what…Mom!” I screamed and

wanted to dash to her room but Nathan held me in place. “Please Maia. You wouldn’t want to see that.” Nathan looked pained. “Mom!” I twisted under his grasp but he didn’t budge. I slammed my fists into the couch in frustration. Something had shattered in me. Tears cascaded

down my cheek like water surging through a broken dam. Shock, desperation and gut-wrenching grief suffocated me. My whole body trembled. I’d never

felt so stricken, so insecure, so fragile. I had an almost irresistible urge to hide in a closet and curl up in a ball. To shut off my eyes and brain and just lay there until nothing existed anymore.

Images swam within my eyelids. I saw my mom and me at Ocean Park, shrieking at the top of our lungs on the roller coaster. I heard my mom comforting me when I wept over poor grades. I felt my mom’s touch on my forehead when I was sick. I smelt my mom’s perfume, the one from Dior. I tasted my mom’s homemade cupcakes, with chocolate sprinkles on top.

My mom was gone. Life drained out of me. Reality punched me in the stomach. Bitter memories sucked out my soul,

until I was left on a barren land. The darkness around me thickened, and I gagged on anguish and sorrow, gasping to breathe.

Nathan pulled me to him, tucking my head under his chin and stroking my hair over and over again.

Since my father died, I had painstakingly bandaged the ulcerated wound in my heart. Now I felt the bandage being ripped off. Blood incessantly spouted from the raw wound.

Madness killed my mom. Humans destroyed the earth, and the earth destroyed us. We’d devoted ourselves in technology, development. Now the quest for excellence was all for nothing.

I didn’t know how long I wept. Night eventually came, and the darkness drew me under. ***

Nathan had already buried her body in the garden when I woke up the next morning. Days passed but I barely realised it. Numbness spread over my body and I seemed to be

experiencing everything through a sheet of glass. I stood before her burial site. Enormous raindrops rattled on the roof of my umbrella, forming a

continuous, fast-paced rhythm. Every now and then, raindrops splashed on my arms and legs, sending a shiver down my spine. A sudden gust of wind plastered my damp hair to my face. I quivered uncontrollably from the cold.

“Maia, you’ll catch a cold here. Get in, please,” Nathan pleaded. I followed him to the house like a zombie. “The world I knew is broken,” I winced. He looked thoughtful. “You know, John Kennedy’d said, ‘when written in Chinese, the word

‘Crisis’ is composed of two characters—one represents danger and the other represents opportunity.’ Perhaps at the end of this bleak tunnel, we will see light.”

“‘The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance, the wise grows it under his feet.’” I quoted. “‘Happiness is nothing more than a good health and a bad memory.’” These words lifted my spirits. A flicker of purple caught my eye in my peripheral vision. I whirled around but there was nothing

purple. I blinked. A flicker of green spotted my vision.

Fiction: Group 4

I clamped my hands over my mouth as the content of the radio broadcast crossed my mind. “Oh gosh, this isn’t happening,” I whimpered, “This isn’t happening.” “Maia?” I blinked rapidly. Patches of green and purple swirled in front of my eyes. “Oh gosh, it can’t be. No! Not after my mom just… No!” I squealed, “I could have saved her! I

could have!” Hysterical sobs wracked my body. “Breathe, Maia. Tell me what’s wrong.” Nathan gripped my shoulders. “I could have saved her! I see patches of green and purple.” I took a ragged breath. “My brain can

be used to cure the madness! It’s too late now. Too late…” Utter shock and flashed on Nathan’s face. “I’m so sorry, Maia.” I inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to make my breathing return to normal. It took me a few

minutes to let this sink in. I could now cure others like my mom. I could cure thousands. If I chose to die. “What should I do?” I murmured, pondering over my options. Emotions swirled in Nathan’s eyes—awe, fear, dread. “You’re saying you want to… You will…” “I don’t know…” He frantically caught me in an embrace. “Maia, please… I can’t… I’ll have nothing…” I had never felt so disoriented in my entire life. He let go of me hastily and pressed both palms into his eyes. “I…” he seemed to be lost for words,

letting out a controlled exhale. “Maia, it’s the most commendable thing to do but… Allow me to be selfish just once. Please…”

I buried my face into my hands. My mind flashed back to the distraught feeling burning inside me when I knew the madness

pushed my mom over the edge. Absolute despondency crushed me like a heavy boulder on my chest, tormented me like acid pouring down my throat, pained me like my skin being seared.

I never wanted anyone to feel the heartache that almost consumed me. I had the power to prevent 2000 people and their families from this affliction.

My mind flashed back to the robber stabbing me to steal food. Humanity indeed had a vile and contemptible side.

I had the opportunity to display the reverse side. The technology to cure was available. Only the glorious side of humanity was missing.

Then my mind achingly flashed back to Nathan, his care, his solicitude, his devotedness. Then a crystal clear fact popped up in my head. People’s lives were in my hands. I’d be inundated

with remorse if I didn’t help them. ***

I walked into the hospital with my hand in Nathan’s, with my head held high. We had five minutes before the surgery. Nathan looked as if trying to have every part of me memorized with his intense stare, as though his

mental camera snapped pictures to capture me in this moment. “You are the most honorable person I’ve ever met,” Nathan breathed. I recalled Nathan pushing me on a swing in the playground. I recalled him holding me when

distress threatened to crumble me. I recalled his smiles, his words, his amiable face. “Thank you so much for everything, Nathan. I don’t think I can tell you how grateful I am,” my

voice cracked a little and tears gathered in my eyes. He took a deep breath. “Do not go gentle into that good night.” I made a noise that sounded like half a laugh and half a sob, hugging him so tightly I was surprised

we could still breathe. “Old age should burn and rave at close of day.” My tears broke free of their restraints and spilled down my cheeks unchecked.

This poem never failed to give us renewed vigor to endure, even during dark era. “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” His eyes were misty. “This is a glorious death, Maia.

You should be proud.” He managed a smile. “Promise me, Nathan. Promise me you’ll continue to recite poems for me.” “I will.” He trembled. “I promise.” “Good bye Nathan.”

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“If there’s a life after this, Maia, let me meet you in it.” With one last smile, I turned and walked into the operation room. No fear, no regret.

*** I have a message to all mankind. It is our heart that makes us human.

Fiction: Group 4

The Feud Good Hope School, Mak, Lydia - 15, Fiction: Group 4

ne more week to go,” he mumbled, gazing into the darkness. The smell of rice dumplings and the stagnant water mingle in the air. Trees in the gale twist vigorously like criminals tortured by a whip. He shivers, unable to discern the chilliness and

his anxiety. He remembers, at the very spot he has been staring at, he was sailing in the warm breeze, waving at his supporters along the river bank. Ambitious, passionate, and confident. That was when he noticed the silhouette of a fancy speedboat, thrice the size and speed of his cramped fishing boat, heading squarely towards his direction. Its engine’s deafening roar suggested menace, as if a beast approaches its prey. Silence fell abruptly when the two ships were merely half a mile apart. Still and tense, the crowd stood in mute astonishment, while a familiar figure rose from the speedboat. It was his brother, his bitter rival, his opponent for the Pearl River Delta region representative election. Another crowd with distinctive flaming red accessories swarmed towards the bank, undoubtedly the supporters of his brother. More people emerged from the speedboat, and he recognized them all. Time was never adequate for the memory to wane, it simply cling to his mind like spider webs. There on the speedboat were his parents, his cousins, and all the family members he knows. He clenched his fists and bit his lips, yet tears were rolling down his eyes. He tucked away into the cabin of his shabby little fishing boat. He has pretended that it was only an election, not a family feud, he has treated his brother simply as another opponent for the election, and he has reminded himself not to vent his anger towards his family in the election, but the sight of his family all standing on his brother’s side was like rubbing salt in his wounds. “Forget the past! Time to change! Polish our Pearl!” rang the voice of his friend. He managed a feeble smile and took the hand his friend offered. “This is the reason why I’m here, not for taking revenge on my family,” he thought. He could see the supportive and determined countenance of his comrades; he could hear his supporters chanting “Forget the past! Time to change! Polish our Pearl!” against the backdrop of hoots from his brother’s supporters and he know that he is the more capable candidate, unless his brother cheats again. Crackling of firecrackers broke the silence. It is New Year’s Day, and he has been sitting alone along the river for more than an hour. His hatred towards his family was once again triggered. New Year had always been the days he dreaded in his childhood. He was an outcast of the family. Whenever he meets his relatives, this is what his parents tell them, “Shameful kid,” “Stupidly honest,” “None of our plans could carry on unhindered, with him snooping around,” The last bit is true; he was always the one who alert the victims whom his parents and brother planned to cheat. And all he received for New Year were red packets – with coins only. A heavy hand drops on his shoulder. He jumps, and turns around. It is his brother. A surge of fury heightens in him. The cold air inhaled has boiled into steam, rising through his trachea. His enmity is about to burst out, but it stuck in his throat. “Calm down,” his mind has been struggling to suppress his anger. The steam condenses and he swallows it. His brother breaks the awkward silence, “I’m sorry, mother and father insisted to come. It must have distressed you,” He scowls. “All I want is a fair election, for the benefit of the area,” his brother continues calmly. He stares at his brother blankly. That was the least he has expected. Abashed, his brother carries on, “Look, I’ve got a red packet for you.” He takes the red packet suspiciously. Coins, he feels it. He was right not to have high expectations on his brother. His brother must have noticed him feeling the coins inside. “You’d be surprised when you open this red packet – it is more than coins inside,” he adds, “and wish you a happy New Year and good luck for the election.” He grins and melts into the darkness.

“O

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Bewildered. Very bewildered. He glances at the red packet, then to the trees where his brother has disappeared. Has he mistaken it? He has seen a warm smile on his brother’s face for the first time in his life. He stuffs the red packet into his shirt pocket and sinks into a bench by the river. He could feel warmth gushing up into his heart. “Blood is blood,” he murmured to himself, “brothers do care about each other.” All these months, debating on forums, exchanging malicious glances, fighting for the post of region representative, maybe he has been the one being prejudicial, imagining his brother who he presupposes to be villainous was up to nothing pleasant. After all, he just heard his brother said, “All I want is a fair election,” and that is what he wants, too. The surge of warmth was definitely the best feeling he has ever experienced. Affection from family, that’s what he lacks in his miserable life. The air smells refreshing, trees in the wind twist elegantly as if they are dancing, and the sudden gale’s touch was as gentle as silk. The world is wonderful when you can feel love. Warmth diffuses in his body, yet it no longer feels pleasing. It is hot, unbearably hot, his chest is boiling. Alarmed, he pulls out the red packet from his pocket and tosses it into the bush, which catches fire instantly. He backed away. His face gets pale; his eyes dart around helplessly looking for help, yet his legs get numb and clumsy as if they are transformed into stone pillars. “Aaaaargh,” a voice from the bushes rang across the river. He shivers; this is unmistakably his brother’s shriek. The doors of the neighborhood burst open, people screams as his brother with his clothes on fire twitches and rolls on the ground in agony. Over the burning bushes, he notices a women pointing at him, hands trembling, “It’s him, it’s him… he set the fire… he’s killing his opponent… How dare he, he’s his brother…” He stood petrified, unable to respond to anything, while the red packet, containing a battery and a wire – a cleverly designed short circuit burns into ashes. This is the next day’s headline: “Albert Attempted Murdering Own Brother Alfred Elected Ipso Facto”

Fiction: Group 4

Leaving

Harrow International School Hong Kong, Caplowe, Eve - 14, Fiction: Group 4

ong Kong grew up out of the sea, spreading its roots into the saltwater and unfurling skyscrapers. The thing is, no matter how far they stray upwards from the ocean, they cannot sever that connection.

That’s what I’m thinking, anyway, as I watch the city light up, a spider’s web of neon after sundown. A few golden rays still linger, and in their wake everything glows. The sky is a soft grey that makes me think of doves and sad music. Clouds slip through its fingers, caught on a breeze that lifts my hair. I look away from that distant tangle of streets and turn to the west, squinting as the sun drowns my face in light. A fish farm squats in the sea, it’s a mess of planks bundled together with nets full of fish beneath the surface, attached by rope to the blue barrels that keep it afloat. People used to live there, you know. Shacks stand, crippled, scattered over this expanse. Their tarpaulin roofs are bleached by the sun and ripped by years of wind, the corrugated iron long rusted away. One man still lives there. Him and the fish and the cats. The dogs that used to live there have all left, but either the cats wouldn’t or couldn’t. You never can tell with cats. We swam over once, with bread wrapped in plastic bags, not quite airtight. I remember standing on a plank with my toes curled tight around the edge, terrified of falling in. At first glance, the net looked empty. The water shimmered too much to see the writhing black fish I knew were there. I ripped off a soggy crust and threw it in. The net exploded, and I felt adrenaline burst through me. The saltwater thrown up scattered and trickled down my legs. I hadn’t fallen in, but the feeling of relief flowed into my lungs as I breathed deep. Why did that memory come to me, of all the ones I have of this place? Like right now. A handful of steps away from the beach is a wild landscape of rocks yet to be beaten into sand. My first playground. Every weekend, we would run here before breakfast, a tangle of eight arms and legs, and climb as far as we could before our bare feet lost all grip. I’m alone today, though. Listening to a noise so ordinary to me it’s almost silence: the sea and the birds and the wind. Across a stretch of ocean is Dog Island, where fishermen leave their dogs before long voyages. I watch the birds of prey – black kites, I think. Their feathers lose the golden glint given by the disappearing sun as they finish they lazily purposeful loops and fly off. It’s definitely dark now. I should be getting back. I try to shift but my limbs refuse. I give up and sigh. Let them find me. I’ve been forced to dress warm – god knows why, it’s only about twelve degrees, but I’m not allowed out of the house until I’ve shrouded myself in jackets. And I admit, my hands winced when I took them out of my pockets and wheeled my suitcase to the lift. My brother looked up at me, his mouth forming a question, but my glare shut him up. I know I’m ruining this trip for everyone but I don’t care. I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care. I know my scowl deepened, because my mother shot me a freezing glare of her own. That did nothing to help my mood. I pressed the button to the ground floor so viciously I managed to draw a frown out of my father, the only one who really understood why I was so angry. We’re going on holiday. But that’s not the reason I was stubbornly, silently seething. I jammed my hands into my pockets, not caring that the lift doors were closing and my family was still outside. I needed some time by myself. I’ve been needing that a lot lately. ‘I want to be by myself,’ ‘Just leave me alone,’ ‘Get out of my room, I need to be on my own!’ My family has kept their distance, especially recently, and that makes me worse. No matter what I’d said, I felt abandoned. Anyway, we were going to Guangzhou, on the Pearl River Delta. All I knew about the Pearl River Delta before this was that pollution from it would leak into my favourite beaches. Black silt and decaying orange

H

Fiction: Group 4

peel and plastic bags. I hated it already, but this news was worse. We were going to Guangzhou to see whether… whether we could move there. I’ve been learning Chinese since I was two. Yes, Western mothers can be tiger mothers, too. I learnt traditional characters, so I could read the street signs in Hong Kong, but I can’t speak Cantonese. I wish I spoke it, but my tongue trips over the words, humiliating me. One of my first memories was standing on a stool, on my tiptoes so I could see myself in the mirror, taps running. I was putting water in my curls, pressing it into my cheeks. It was darker and straighter with the weight of the water. My mother came in. ‘What are you doing, silly?’ I looked at her like she was an idiot. ‘Making my hair normal, so I look like my friends.’ She picked me up, hugged me tight. ‘You have lovely hair, sweetheart. You don’t have to change.’ But I did. The airport smelled of kerosene. Usually, that smell made me excited, quickened my pulse, but today I felt sick. Walking through immigration, I showed my passport to the smiling man behind the counter. He looked doubtfully from me to the photo. It had been taken in Year Seven, the year when I had gone to a hairdresser that couldn’t speak English. His pasty face lit up, but I found myself wishing he’d actually tried to arrest me. Then I wouldn’t have to leave. I was born here. As I watch the contrast between the dark sky and the street lamps grow, I feel a wrenching in my gut and the weight of the truth drops. This is my last night in Hong Kong. The kerosene smell was stronger than ever. I walked down the tube connecting the plane to the airport. My trainers slapped the cheap carpeting. I felt trapped. Suddenly, there wasn’t air. Short of knocking out the cabin crew and kicking the pilot out of the aircraft – and I was almost that desperate – there was nothing I could do. An airhostess tapped my shoulder. In the spirit of Christmas, I decided not to punch her lights out, but I felt anger well up, nearly breaking the surface. I spun on my heel and looked her in eye. ‘What?’ She stepped back as if I was rabid. ‘I need to see your boarding pass.’ she stuttered. I felt bad for a second. Then I was back, mainly because my mother had grabbed my shoulder. ‘I know you’re angry about this, but there is absolutely no need to take it out on this poor woman.’ She turned to the airhostess. ‘I’m so sorry, she’s going through a phase.’ I felt a heady mix of betrayal and fury settle over me as I pulled out my boarding pass, and stalked off to the Economy seats. I sat down at the window seat, and stared at the sea. There were no black kites here. The whole place smelled like goodbye. My fingers trace the rocks I’m sitting on; spelling out the word I fear the most. I find a piece of charcoal, and write it out for all the world to see. Goodbye. ‘Sash?’ I don’t turn around. ‘Listen, I know you’re sad about leaving, honey, but this is just a test, a dry run. You might even like it there.’ I do look around then. ‘Like it? I’m sorry, have we met? I know you gave birth to me, Mum, but really? I will never like it there if this holiday lasts a lifetime! I hate it already, and I’m not leaving. I’ll find a boarding school or something, but I’m not leaving, you do know that, right?’ Heads turn, but I don’t even acknowledge them. ‘Listen, mother –‘ ‘No, you listen, Sasha,’ Uh-oh. The full name is never a good sign. ‘This isn’t final. We’re not even sure I’ll take the job. We going so we can have a look, see if it’s right for us. You are completely overreacting, and you are drawing attention to yourself,’ she hissed. It took every fibre of my being not to yell ‘Hey world, look at me!’ at the top of my lungs. But I didn’t. I held my breath and fastened my seatbelt, not looking at my mother. She sat next to me. ‘Sashie?’ I stared steadfastly out of the window. Funnily enough, ripping me away from the only place I can

Fiction: Group 4

call home cannot be fixed with a mushy nickname. ‘What?’ I spat. ‘What else is there? I’m adopted? You have cancer? My real dad is a Persian emperor?’ What bigger bombshell can she drop than that we’re leaving? ‘Sash! Where the heck are you?’ I tear my stinging eyes away from the skyline. I don’t want to talk, especially not to him. ‘Sash? Hey!’ My little brother scrambles up the rock. ‘Mum’s scared witless, Dad thinks you’ve been kidnapped by an axe murderer and I’ve been looking for you for about twenty minutes! What the hell, Sasha!’ ‘An axe murderer wouldn’t kidnap me, he’d just slice off my various body parts.’ My brother stares at me. ‘I’m just saying, I have a much better chance of being kidnapped by a kidnapper,’ I state. He tackles me into a surprisingly strong bear hug, and something breaks inside me. Besides most of my internal organs. ‘We’re just moving, sis. It’s not the end of the world,’ I look at him. I can’t even process this. ‘I know it’s not, but it’s the end of my world.’ We hung in the air in silence. Mum looked at me like I’d slapped her. The hush slipped from my fingers and broke. ‘Mum, I…’ Her head whipped around like a python’s. ‘Umm, never mind.’ I plugged my headphones in and blast music into my ears so loud I’m sure she can hear it. What I was about to say was this: I’m sorry that I was harsh, but I don’t think you understand. You moved around a lot as a kid, I know, so this probably isn’t a big deal to you, but this city is the biggest constant in my life. This means a lot to me. I really, really don’t want to leave. Please don’t make me. Suspended thousands of feet above the ground, I still felt the pull of the sea, my roots keeping me in place. Rivers are not the same. He has pulled me back to the house. I have not kicked or screamed, but my leaden silence weighs on him, and I know it. I know I hurt him, and I hate myself for it. They explode as soon as they see me. ‘Where were you?’ ‘Why didn’t you tell us where you were?’ ‘What have you been doing?’ ‘How could you do this to us?’ ‘Who do you think you are?’ The last question tore any thoughts of apology out of reach. I stand staring at the floor. I will not say one word to them. I will not. ‘Sasha?’ It was my brother. My kind, wonderful brother who hunted down the wasp that stung me, who told me I was stunning when I got my ears pierced, my lovely little brother who sang in his sleep and called me the best sister ever. ‘Yeah?’ my voice was little more than a croak. ‘I… I love you.’ My face cracks into a small smile. ‘Love you too, little brother.’ It was like my parents weren’t even there. He may be years younger than me, but he has always been my hero. We landed without speaking. My mother gripped the armrests of the chairs as the wheels brushed the ground with a rumble, knuckles turning white. My brother watched the camera fixed to the underside of the plane, pointing out the sparks. My father held my hand gently. I don’t get scared anymore, just a slight adrenaline kick at the descent when my stomach seems higher up than it should and there’s that magical moment when anything feels possible. Leaving the plane, immigration, getting into the car our hotel ordered – it blurred, one event spilling into another. All I could think of was that this is not my home. ‘Hey, Sash, let’s go see the river. You like the water, right?’ I looked at my dad like he’d sprouted wings. Sarcasm boiled in my mouth but for once I kept it shut. I like the sea, Dad, not some mucky river famous for pollution and mutant fish. Not that I don’t appreciate the thought. But I don’t – can’t – say that. Instead: ‘ Yeah, sure.’

Fiction: Group 4

We walked through winding streets. A thought hit me. Back home, I could read the words written, but couldn’t speak with anyone. Here, I could talk, but not read. Funny that. I sit on my bed, looking out of the window. I share the room with my brother, but he sleeps soundly. The skyline is darker now – it must be two or three in the morning, and I’ve been awake the whole time. After a verbal walloping from my parents, I went upstairs while the rest of my family watched a sit-com. The blaring laughter sounded like blasphemy on our last night in Hong Kong. I was saying goodbye to my home, mouthing the word over and over, gazing off at the Island as one light, then another, shuts off; thinning out the glow. Looking up, I find stars, a rarity. I sit, mapping out letters and pictures. I stay deadly still for a long time. The air was sickly sweet. Normally, the sound of lapping waves brings the briny smell of ocean, but here, there was nothing. The river was the wrong shade of green – too brown and not blue enough. The sun was setting, and the river lit up. It didn’t sparkle like the sea. The Pearl River was docile. It meandered, twisting and turning, letting the land carve its path. The sea has shaped continents, beaten rocks into sand and forced the world to its knees. It glitters in summer, softens in spring, darkens in autumn and by winter it is deadly. A mix of predictable and dangerous. That was the best thing about the sea. ‘Sash?’ My brother stirs, bleary-eyed with sleep. ‘Shush, go back to bed. It’s only a dream,’ I say, like I do so many nights. He won’t remember it tomorrow. ‘No, it’s not,’ he says to me, eyes already closing. ‘We’re really moving, you know.’ He is asleep. The sun is rising, the sea a glittering gold I’ve never seen before. And this is my send off. This is my home telling me goodbye.

Fiction: Group 4

365 Days

Harrow International School Hong Kong, Cheung, Zoe - 14, Fiction: Group 4

1960 May I live in Huizhou, a village that cowers under the looming shadow of Guangzhou city. I tell my baby brother that Guangzhou is like an owl. It sleeps in the day and comes alive at night, opening beady neon eyes that stare at us from across the Pearl River. There, the streets are packed with freshly-painted red double-decker buses, and shiny Western sports cars that whirr like hummingbirds; I know because Father always talks about those cars when he think we’re asleep – he speaks in hushed, excited whispers. I know Father would like to move to Guangzhou someday. I see him sit by the riverbank just after work, squinting over with his sad, tired eyes at those dancing neon lights … and, just for a moment, those sad, tired eyes ignite with the flicker of aspiration and desire, only to be dimmed seconds later by the dullness of reality. I like Huizhou, though. It’s quiet, simple, and isn’t any more than meets the eye –like me. Early this morning, Father and Mother headed to the pastures with wide-brimmed straw hats on their heads. I’ll have to start work soon – after all, it’s my ninth birthday today and I suppose being nine is quite old. But for today, I take my baby brother and we sit by the waterside and play with long blades of dry grass, letting them twist and slide between our fingertips. I look down into the Pearl River, with its water so clear and still that it resembles glass, and I see our reflections; we are both round-faced and innocent, with wide curious eyes. December My baby brother died today. Huizhou froze over and turned cold and blue - so did he. I am sitting by the riverbank this morning, because I don’t want to hear Mother crying anymore, or Father saying if we had moved to Guangzhou this wouldn’t have happened. In my hand is a photograph; the only photograph we ever took of my baby brother. He sits in his cot, a soft head covered by only wisps of smooth hair, and the same wide, curious eyes. Today, mine are red and brim with tears. 1961 May It’s my tenth birthday, and Mother made me her special pork buns; I was surprised that she did, because we haven’t been able to afford any meat in two months - it grows more expensive by the day. Even though it’s my birthday, I still have to sell rice and vegetables in the market, and my voice is still hoarse as I head into the house for dinner. Father isn’t home yet, so Mother and I sit down and start to eat; her voice sounds hopeful as she tells me that spring is on its way, so we should be able to make enough money to buy pork and beef. We both sneak anxious glances at the clock as the sky begins to bleed from blue to purple and eventually, a shade so dark that we can’t even see the huge banyan tree that towers just feet from our house. An unanswered question is thick in the air: where is Father? At eleven o’clock, I grow tired of waiting and retire to my room. Mother tidies the dishes, and I can hear them clanging angrily against the sink – she is usually quiet and careful, and hums to herself as she carries out her chores. I listen to her as I lie awake - my bed is narrow and hard and I am growing quickly, so I barely fit in it now, but I remember a time when it was big enough for both my baby brother and me. Hours later, there is a pounding at the door, and a slurred voice bellows from outside.

Fiction: Group 4

“Let me in…. Let me in!” A string of vulgarities follows. I am hidden by shadows, and cover my ears to try block out the sound as the screams grow increasingly furious; it is the wrong sound for a still night in Huizhou. Mother flies to the door, with a finger pressed against her lips, and flings it open as Father slumps onto the ground in front of her. His face is the shade of a ripe plum, and his muscles are slack. Mother tells him in a hushed voice that he is very, very drunk and needs to stop shouting. He tells her to shut up, that we need to move to Guangzhou right away – there is nothing for us here. Mother tries to guide him to bed, but he snaps at her. She asks him why he can’t just appreciate that we all have each other, a loving and complete family. Father spitefully reminds her that baby brother is dead, and everyone in the village is cold and starving for half the year anyway. Mother’s mouth opens in protest, but the words die before they reach her lips. I shrink into the shadows, because I can see Father’s face turn an even riper shade of plum. He is tired of Mother and her endless string of questions; tired of being tied to us and this sleepy village; tired of bending over rice paddies each morning, and coming home to a meal that leaves his stomach growling through the night; tired of gazing longingly across the river at the city of lavish in things that he can only dream of. I am ten years old, but I think a small part of me understands him. And then Father raises a shaking hand, and brings it down onto Mother’s face hard. That is something I will never understand. December I am down by the river again. It is cold – cold enough for frost, but not snow. My teeth chatter and my shoulders shake but the river is my favourite place to think and today, I have a lot to think about. I have to think about the purple bruises on Mother’s face that never seem to go away, and the way Father’s breath always smells sour. I have to think about how I hate the sound of Guangzhou now - how the purr of the exotic cars has turned into an angry roar. I also have to think about how baby brother died a year ago today. I imagine what he would be like now, a charming and bright-eyed three-year-old, and I could have taught him how to add up and read. My bare feet crunch over frosted ground as I look into the river. It is not frozen, but I know if I fall in, the cold will seep into my skin and numb me over. I squint to make out my reflection; the water is cloudy, and little fragments of debris float about in it – a plastic bottle cap, and bits of algae mar its glass-like quality – but through all the fragments, I can make out a long face and sunken cheeks, with dark eyes that are far too tired to be curious. It’s funny how much a year can change someone like me. Perhaps I am more than meets the eye after all.

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta

Fiction: Group 4

Heep Yunn School, Lam, Melissa - 15, Fiction: Group 4

The fiery ball rose and fell in the skies of Zhongshan. The wild blue yonder was as magnificent as it

could be, and so were the great rolling fields under it. The splendid sight was the pride and glory of the people there, but not to one. This particular fellow roamed the fields every day, trying to find a patch that was new to his eyes.

It was just the break of dawn, but he was already up and about. “There, Boxer, here you go.” He muttered absent-mindedly as he fed a hungry horse an apple, his humongous sleeve dangling awkwardly. “No, not my braid, Clover!” He gasped as he attempted to rescue his long braid from the jaws of another. He groaned inwardly as he surveyed the gooey saliva on his hair with distaste.

The boy knew every grass and every rock in that area of Zhongshan. He had even named all the animals that belonged to his farm, which his father and uncle owned. Traipsing through the meadow, he tugged at his stiff cheongsam, which was getting stiffer and more irritating every day. He longed to escape from the fetters of this tedious and monotonous life, where his effort was never appreciated. Lin Yixing’s eyes seemed to glaze over with a pearly sheen as he mused about how his life would become if he moved to the city, the glorious city. Then his eyes snapped into focus abruptly as he sighed, “But that will never happen.” From time to time Yixing allowed himself to be submerged into a dreamy state, he was immediately disillusioned by the fact that this family business had been run, father to son, for over ten generations — and he could never let his family down.

That morning, when Yixing sat down for breakfast, he was welcomed with the usual clamor. At the

table, there sat four families, all relatives of his. It was in their culture to live with so many people, yet Yixing didn’t like it. He felt like a chick being cooped up in a henhouse, squashed to death by rampaging roosters and hens. At the same time, there was an increasing burden on him, since in all the four families, there was not one male descendant, apart from himself. Just the night before, his hopes had been let down by the birth of a baby daughter of Aunt Xuan. If no other boy was born, he would have to inherit the family business and run it himself. He was destined to be stuck in Zhongshan for all his life.

It was then that he realized, the tumult of voices seemed unusually loud. High-pitched screams were emitted through a circle of his relatives. What could they be screaming their heads off about?

He pushed through the small crowd, only to see — a baby boy in the arms of Aunt Xuan! She had obviously told the story a few times already. “— I undressed my lovely baby boo to give him

a bath, but then I saw his private parts and shrieked! Darling came rushing over to see what the fuss was about, and amazingly, he’d changed from a girl to a boy overnight! I have two deductions about the transformations— first, that I had seen it wrongly last night due to the darkness, though quite unlikely, of course— second, because Big Xuan and I prayed to the gods last night to thank them for my baby, though I had longed for it to be a boy.”

She stopped gushing to pause for breath. The people around her cooed and exclaimed, while Yixing grinned to himself. Aunt Xuan was notorious for her bad eyesight— she had once mistaken a horse for a sheep, Boxer for Molly to be exact. Yixing was standing five yards behind her at that time, and he had accurately identified their names. It was no surprise to him that Aunt Xuan had mistaken his new cousin to be a girl.

All of a sudden, the sudden realization struck him like a horse’s hooves on a piece of rocky ground. Aunt Xuan had given birth to a possible inheritor! He had been liberated! Lin Yixing was free!

Yixing packed a tiny bag with all his belongings: his comb, his blanket, and all his earnings, which wasn’t much. He left a note on his table, explaining his dream to live in the city. When he passed the dining room, he heard his father saying, “No, Xuan, it wasn’t the gods that assisted you; it was our government!”

All of them snorted. “You and your government! Can’t you see how weak and helpless the Qing government is right now? Why should we support the government when is a sick man of the East?”

“No, I believe that the Qing government is doing everything in their power to save this country! They’re trying to save it from the Western dogs, whose ghastly blue eyes have been centered on this rich land of wheat and sweat— and our government will win someday! They’ll restore our country to a peaceful and powerful one, instead of having cities, such as Hong Kong, that opens the door to the Western dogs into our once-strong borders!” His father retorted.

Fiction: Group 4

Yixing recoiled. What would his stubborn father think about him migrating to Hong Kong and working there? Would he despise him? Would he disown him as a son? Nonetheless, not bothering about the consequences, he advanced towards the door.

“Oi! Yixing! Where’re you going?” his father grunted. “I’m… I’m going to Hong Kong for work. I wish to start a new life there. It’s always been my

dream.” Yixing mumbled, aware of everyone’s eyes on him. “Hong Kong?” his father thundered. “Of all places in China, you’re going to Hong Kong? If you dare

to take one step out of this door, Lin Yixing, I don’t ever want to see you in this house again.” Yixing, with his face burning, felt a kind of pressure that he had never felt before. An invisible force

was pulling him towards his father, yet an even stronger one was propelling him towards the door. He resisted both sides of the force with difficulty, as if he were playing a tug of war. His family, or, his dream? At last, the tension died down, and also his fear in facing his father.

As he was scampering out the door, he heard a familiar voice. “Yixing, stop!” Turning around, he embraced the sight of all his relatives, including the newborn baby but not his father, racing out the door in pursuit.

“Have you come to stop me?” Yixing inquired helplessly. “No, Yixing, we’re here to say our goodbyes to you, our dear nephew.” One of his aunts said. “We

know you’ve been yearning for a fresh breath of air in the city, and we’re glad that you can finally leave and achieve your dreams.”

“Yes! Yixing, good luck!” his young cousin chimed in. Tears began to brim in Yixing’s eyes like a pond of clear water. “Thank you, everyone” was all he

could manage to utter. Then his mother swept him into a large hug. “Yixing, remember what your name stands for. Yi stands

for your perseverance and stamina; while Xing means ‘build’. I believe that you can build yourself a home out there without our help, but you’re your persisting and extraordinary dedication. I’ll try to convince your father that you meant no disrespect— he’s in a murderous mood right now. I understand how long you’ve wanted to explore the city instead of being stuck here in Zhongshan for all your life. So, good luck, my boy.”

“Thank you, Mum.” Yixing said, his voice trailing to a whisper, hardly able to believe that this could be the last time he ever saw his family. “I love you all.” He then turned his back to the cerulean sky, the great rolling fields, the creatures he had named, and everything he had once taken root in. His gait was steady and confident, yet his heart was breaking in two, thinking of his father who had lost his only child to a city he loathed. Still, he kept going. This was going to be his new chapter in life.

Although the ship Yixing got on was a splendid one, its mere reflection in the Pearl River dampened its beauty. The Pearl River was the epitome of perfection, a silver ribbon snaking to the heavens, a picturesque and serene scene. Most essentially, the Pearl River was the pathway to his dreams. Yixing let his ecstasy get the better of him, allowing a hand to caress the river as if it were the newborn of Aunt Xuan, a gift to him from the skies. He willed the ship to go faster, and lo and behold, a voice bellowed, “Land ho!”

Hong Kong seemed to be a mirage in the sparkling mist.

Hong Kong was every bit as beautiful, and as exhilarating as what Yixing had pictured. It had even exceeded his expectations, especially the foreigners’ politeness. After listening to his father ramble on all day criticizing foreigners, Yixing had deemed them to look grotesque, or at least unappealing to the eye. What sent him jolts down his back was that every foreigner, with their hair in various shades of colour, was uniquely stunning in their own way, contrasting to the boring black that every Chinese possessed. Their golden locks radiated sunshine along with their dazzling smiles. Foreigners, Yixing decided, were too fascinating.

He wandered around aimlessly, not daring to blink in case he missed any small detail. People dashed around like hens being chased— he couldn’t believe that people could live such a hectic lifestyle. Still, this was the life he’d always dreamt of.

Yixing strolled around until he stopped at a blacksmith shop. Curiously, he poked his head inside. A well-built man was looming over a piece of steel, hammering it endlessly. It appeared that he was forging a horseshoe, which mesmerized him. “I wonder how Boxer’s doing.” he brooded. It seemed like a thousand years had passed since he had crossed the Pearl River and left home.

Fiction: Group 4

The blacksmith saw Yixing staring and chuckled. “Come on in, young man! Are you from the country?”

Yixing bowed his head shyly. The friendly blacksmith continued, “What’s your name? Mine’s Li Xiaolong. Are you interested in forging metal?”

“It does look pretty interesting. How do you manage to keep your sleeves clean? My name’s Lin Yixing by the way—I came here from Zhongshan today to pursue my dream! But quite frankly, I don’t know where to start.”

“Why don’t you start your dream here? You could first earn some savings, then start your own business! It just so happens that my boss ordered me to hire someone for him today because of the increasing workload. C’mon, I’ll teach you how to forge metal.”

And that was how Yixing became a blacksmith. During the first week of his job, he remained eager and restless, even after he met his boss, a stout and surly fellow who yelled at him every minute of the day. Hammering and humming all day, he was a satisfied and joyful blacksmith. However, fatigue and aching arms soon overwhelmed him, giving a huge blow to his strength, something that he had always took pride in. His boss was outraged. “Lin Yixing! I didn’t pay you for standing here meditating! Get your hammer out and finish ten pieces of metal by noon, or else I’ll fire you immediately!”

The boss’s fiery outburst reminded Yixing of his father’s disownment of him. A sense of melancholy rose inside him as he wondered who would play Mahjong with him, how much more work he would have to complete without Yixing’s assistance, and whether Yixing would be accepted if he ever headed back home. He would have to put up with this demon of a boss and persist until he could build a home for himself. This life was ten times more demanding and difficult than his old one, and he missed being on the carefree fields with Boxer and Clover. Still, this was the life he’d hoped for.

The days passed with the accompaniment of iron and steel. Yixing became more tough and strong with the daily exercise, and he was grateful for persevering in his job when he had had doubts. This was the path he had taken, and he had chosen the hardship along with it. Therefore, he couldn’t groan nor grumble at the job—he was the one responsible for taking this path, and he would embrace all the challenges that had been streaming towards him for the past few weeks. To everyone’s amazement, Yixing endured his job with astonishing determination, and people betting on him not being able to last a year in the job all found their wallets lighter. In fact, Yixing lasted two years in the job, and only quit because he had realization of a new dream— opening a pet store.

Now, owning pets were not quite yet the rage in Hong Kong. However, he had often seen dogs being tied on a leash by foreigners, and had found the idea refreshing as well as having the potential to start a new trend. Imagine the whole city having a dog or a cat as a partner— people would grow more intimate with nature, and learn to appreciate animals as one of their own kind. He was keen to start the business, not only because of the profit, but also for his affection towards animals. Furthermore, he had secret aspirations in mind— he wanted to be a part in overturning the corrupted government, and build a new one from scratch.

While Yixing was setting up his own business with ardour and ferventness, at the same time joining a secret organization plotting to overturn the Qing dynasty, a great catastrophe was occurring in his homeland. A wave of famine had plagued the Zhongshan residents, and had been a severe blow to the Lin family. The government performed no action whatsoever to this serious disaster, and the family had no choice but to migrate to another country. They were passing by Hong Kong two years later, haggard and barren of energy, when they suddenly recalled that Yixing was, too, staying there!

Years had passed since Yixing left Zhongshan. Embraces were exchanged, huge, sloppy kisses were planted on cheeks, and tears were wept. His family gazed at Yixing’s shop, “Aunt Xuan’s Blessing”, which had risen to popularity throughout the whole city. They gazed at his accomplishments and at the adversities he had once come across, but overcome. Every one of his relatives came close to tears when they saw how much Yixing had grown, for better or worse. Everyone, that was, except for his father, who stood there as still as a plank, never moving, never caring.

Yixing never saw his father alive again. He was found to be lying on the balcony of Yixing’s home that night, a knife plunged deep into his back. A crimson puddle blossomed underneath his mangled body, staining his blue cheongsam deep bright red. A message was written on the floor in the exact shade of red—“Turn against Qing and Qing will turn against you”. Beside the message lay a bouquet of flowers with a note inside, with the words: ‘Yixing’.

Fiction: Group 4

It was evident what had happened that night. Yixing’s father had sneaked into Yixing’s home, unable to resist the strong bond of blood between father and son. Yet out of the blue, he had been assassinated by Qing guards, in an attempt to wipe out the revolutionists.

He had never got the opportunity to reconcile with his son, nor said a word to a soul about how he had actually forgiven Yixing a long, long time ago, that he would accept his coming back at any time of any day. He had not played Mahjong for years, and he had missed having a son. Without his son by his side, he had always performed his daily routines in solitude, feeding Boxer and Clover and remembering how his son had named all the animals in their farm. Sometimes when he grumbled about people mistrusting the government, he would feel a pang in his heart, recalling the person who had left it hollow and desolate. Ironically, the government he had depended on and trusted so much had murdered him in cold blood. However, he had sacrificed himself for his only son, a last and final fatherly act.

Now Yixing missed the cerulean sky, the great rolling fields, the creatures he had named, and most of all, his father. Although he remorsefully blamed himself for all that had happened, and loathed himself for letting his father die in his place, he reminded himself again and again that this was the path he had taken, that there was no turning back.

The fiery ball in the sky maintained its never-stopping route, day and night, day and night.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta

Heep Yunn School, Leung, Juliet - 15, Fiction: Group 4

he sun lashed out its fiery tongue, leaving sunburnt marks on already scarred backs while the waves beat against the pier, equally relentlessly. The sun gloated at the lack of wind and tried to suffocate the coolies. It was a stifling noon, but the Chinese foreman, standing on the raised platform, made

them skip lunch until the infinite stacks of cargo are stowed away. From the nearby eatery, the fragrance of tea and char siu buns came wafting out, sending their stomachs into protest.

‘I am starving. How long does it take for us to grab a daibao and a sip of polei?’ hissed Ping. He eyed the foreman with murderous eyes. At nearly six feet tall, he was the strongest, and the most violent of all the coolies in this port; the precipitator of everything, mostly the troubles.

‘Exactly! We just want a bite, don’t we?’ echoed Keung.

‘That gongtao over there, who does he think he is? Not ten months ago he was slaving away like all of us. Now hesees himself a British scoundrel too,’ scoffed Ping.

‘Someone tell him he’ll kill everybody off with the way he works us. He’ll be sending poor Chi-Wo over there into a grave soon,’ said Wei-Hai as he shrugged his shoulders towards Chi-Wo, a tottering kid who could barely shoulder the cargo on his back. They sweated like fountains spewing water, and cursed the foreman violently in secret: the prospect of going up to him was far too intimidating.

In 1928 Hong Kong, ‘employee’ and ‘welfare’ were two separate ideas. The meagre wage which Wei-Hai received was all that kept his family of six from the streets. Although Wei-Hai didn’t look like it, he had already been his family’s breadwinner for four years since sixteen.

Eventually, when the sun decided to abandon its post, the foreman dismissed them without compensation for the lost lunch. A veil of black crept over the city, and Wei-Hai trudged back home feeling numb in places where he didn’t know he had muscles. A light appeared at the corner of his eye in a well of darkness, and he saw the dried seafood store lined with all manner of delicacies: dried squid, abalone, and shark fins. They always made his mouth water when he passed by every night. He remembered his impossible vow of bringing home fish maw, but the occasional addition of charsiu on the dinner table was enough for the family to relish for a week. Inside the seafood store, an old lady was setting the table for her workers' dinner, as she had done every night while Wei-Hai dragged himself home. Wei-Hai longingly imagined himself in a workplace where employers showed small acts of kindness, treat them to dinner. Then, the Chinese foreman’s fat face swam into mind, and the light that had fleetingly floated into his heart was drowned by darkness again.

Wei-Hai’s next day was equally back- breaking and he wished the scorching sun would disappear behind the clouds to provide some respite. As he stacked interminable crates of tobacco at the end of the pier, he noticed the two British managers in top hats daintily pick their way across towards the foreman’s office. The younger gentleman had a handkerchief over his nose, and Wei-Hai rolled his eyes at the sight.

Ping came over, narrowing his eyes when he saw the two top hats bobbing across the pier. ‘Look at those English dogs. I’ve had enough of this. We didn’t topple a Chinese empire for a British one!’ Ping looked as if he wanted to throw his crate towards the foreman’s office. Wei-Hai didn’t reply, but when he looked into the foreman’s office, he saw the foreman bowing ninety degrees before the two Englishmen.

Nor did it help when the sun melted away the clouds, and Wei-Hai nearly couldn’t suppress his boiling feelings towards the despicable Chinese foreman, nor his contempt for the Englishmen. But he wasn’t born to be rash like Ping, and he returned to his crates of tobacco. For four years, he had been trying to work his way up to become a foreman. It would mean a chance to help all the coolies who shared the same fate as him – terrorised by someone of the same skin colour as their own.

T

Fiction: Group 4

All of a sudden, a loud splash of water sounded at the far end of the pier. Wei-Hai looked up to see only the old Englishman left at the edge of the pier, waving his hat madly and shouting in English, which were then followed by other shouts in Chinese: the younger manager had fallen into the water.

‘Ha! Serves him right. Let him drown! Or at least let him drink his share of sea water!’ Ping showed no inclination to do anything or to commiserate.

Wei-Hai however, experienced a prescient moment of struggle. On the one hand, his life was too valuable for someone he hated with a burning passion, but it wasn’t in his bones either to let someone die in front of him. Despite Ping’s ever more vociferous protests, he ran to the edge and jumped into the water. The sputtering Englishman was dragged out of the sea, still clutching his handkerchief and struggling to free himself from Wei-Hai. The other gentleman, though much flustered, noticed Wei-Hai, and gestured for the Chinese foreman to bring him into the office. No one cared that he was still dripping like a soaked duckling.

‘So… you’re Wei-Hai, aren’t you?’ boomed the elderly gentleman in the top hat.

‘Yes. Me, Wei-Hai.’ He stuttered in halting English.

‘Someone fetch us a translator.’ The Englishman told the Chinese foreman.

‘No, ah… me know Eng… English.’

‘Oh, I like the lad’s attitude. Well, all you Chinese care about is money, don’t you, young man? How much do you think I should pay you for saving my nephew? ’

What was this about? The Englishman was speaking too fast for poor Wei-Hai to catch up.

Meanwhile, the Chinese foreman patronisingly translated for him. ‘Mr Brandon’s asking you what you want in return. Just write down the amount here.’

Wei-Hai ignored him and spoke directly to the Englishman. ‘You teach me… buy sale.’

‘Mr Brandon, I think he means that…’ The Chinese foreman attempted to explain.

‘I understand what he means, sir! I wonder how different you and that boy can be. Fancy a bet on how long this attitude of his would last?’

Wei-Hai opened his mouth again. ‘I want “buy sale”’,”

‘Yes, yes, you shall get what you want, nothing too much, really. But first, you’ll need to polish your English a bit, before we get you into this uh, “buy sale” business.’

In the following days, Wei-Hai discovered that the wind at the Queen’s Pier no longer felt oppressing, but every tepid breeze was a splash of spring water on his face. He continued to work as a coolie in the morning, but in the evening, he studied English and Accounting, subsidised by Mr Brandon. Wei-Hai felt like the gap between him and his dream of being a foreman had turned from the Pearl River into just the Victoria Harbour.

The Chinese foreman, however, became consumed with jealousy, and brooding on that platform of his, he thought of all kinds of punishment he could inflict upon Wei-Hai to make up for it. Longer working hours, he decided, was the best treatment during which he could berate Wei-Hai for the most miniscule of problems. But Wei-Hai continued to have the summer breeze on his side.

As the winds of the harbour passed by, so did the frost. The scorching sun lashed out at the coolies again, and Ping was muttering about how he wished the foreman would evaporate in the heat. As Wei-Hai tried

Fiction: Group 4

to tune him out in order to review account management in his head, shouts rang out somewhere far away. Wei-Hai dismissed it as just a few coolies bickering, but the shouts became impossible to ignore, and he looked up to see a mass of people gathered a few yards in front of him.

Ping had already been there and back and was bursting with news. ‘Hey, Chi-Wo is down. He must have got heatstroke!’ Wei-Hai dropped his crate and ran to where Chi-Wo had fallen. Chi-Wo’s face was black as charcoal. Wei-Hai broke out in a cold sweat. Suddenly Death himself had made his presence known among them in uncertain terms. Chi-Wo looked so small compared to the pier, so insignificant compared to the harbour stretched out in front of him; his death was so big a loss, so small a sacrifice to Wei-Hai.

Mr Brandon came to the pier flustered, desperately trying to restore some order of normality. The hysterical Chinese foreman fell down from his platform with a loud thump. A coolie had died right under his nose, and he had a lot more to lose than his job. The more he frantically tried to excuse himself, the more of his atrocities came to light and Mr Brandon’s frown was etched even deeper in his face. Wei-Hai said nothing. On the one hand he gloated over the Chinese foreman’s downfall, but then the innocent face of Chi-Wo floated into his mind, and he couldn’t help but review on the price of this downfall.

Finally Mr Brandon turned to Wei-Hai.

‘Wei-Hai, this gentleman here is evidently not competent enough for his job anymore. Would you like to take up his post?’ The Chinese foreman’s face went grey as ash as Wei-Hai’s face lit up. ‘The first task I am giving you, is to send all those outside back to work.’

Wei-Hai faced his first challenge in his new role. Outside the office block, a group of coolies, led by Ping, were demanding justice.

Wei-Hai looked at Mr. Brandon. ‘You will… will pay Chi-Wo’s family?’

Mr. Brandon scoffed. ‘My dear boy, I take that you are joking, where have all your accounting lessons gone to? If we compensate each worker for a scratch we’d be bankrupt!’

Wei-Hai remembered the seafood shop he passed by every night. He remembered the night when he saw the elderly lady hand out red packets. He remembered the thankful faces of the workers, even though he also distinctly noticed lesser shark fins hanging from the shelves. He took a deep breath and dove into the crowd and climbed onto the raised platform, now vacated by the Chinese foreman. He consoled the crowd with promise of a compensation deal for Chi-Wo’s family and not to repeat the Chinese foreman’s mistakes, conveniently forgetting to mention where the money would come from.

From that day onwards, Wei-Hai was the new foreman of the Pier, working for Brandon and Co.. Finally, a time to fulfil his vow. He couldn’t have felt more accomplished as he spent his time sorting out the perennial problems at the pier. Even the harbour itself seemed glittered a sapphire blue with his efforts.

But the company never gave Wei-Hai enough money to pay for the coolies’ extra hours, and they always gave him more than enough work. With more money on his hand because of his own pay rise, Wei-Hai tried to pay the workers back to realise his dream of a better life for all coolies. Sometimes he saw Chi-Wo smiling at him, and this pushed Wei-Hai forward in his efforts.

Nonetheless the minimal pay rise he received for himself was not enough to cover the overtime that he doled out from his own pocket. He ended up doling out promises. Promises that couldn’t be fulfilled, that sunk into the deep harbour and left no trace on the surface, but pierced deep into Wei-Hai’s heart. He began to feel that the piece of glass between him in his office and the coolies took up more space than the sapphire blue strip at the far end of the pier which stretched across the harbour towards Kowloon.

That day, after giving out the last of his own wages that he could afford to cover for three coolies’ overtime, Wei-Hai went home in a dejected state, feeling his empty pockets. There was no money for fish maw, there wasn’t even money for char siu. Out of habit, he slowed down as he passed the dried seafood shop,

Fiction: Group 4

and eventually stopped in front of it. The elderly lady saw him gaping at the delicacies, and invited him in for dinner with a sympathetic look. Wei-Hai, racked by a sudden wave of insecurity, ran into the darkness, as the light from the shop diminished behind his back.

On the following pay day, the occasional thunder tore through the silence of the crowd of coolies that huddled around the platform. A storm hung waiting over them like a funeral shroud. Wei-Hai announced that there was to be no compensation for the overtime. He went home, with the satisfying, yet guilty sound of coins in his pocket.

During the next months and years worldwide recession began to affect Brandon & Co. like a long, foreboding storm. It was 1931, and Wei-Hai, though barely twenty-three, was looking older than his years. He stared into his cheque books, marked in red here and there. He looked out and saw Ping, still muttering away while hauling the cargo. He saw Keung, still in his position one step behind Ping, acting as his echoing machine. He sought for Chi-Wo, even though he knew it was futile: He had never seen him after that gloomy pay day when the coins rang in his pocket and not the others. He slammed his cheque book shut and took two sheets of paper and a stack of coins. Before he left the office, he first stored away his share of the wages.

‘Everyone, the company can’t afford so many workers anymore. The first list announces the people who will no longer work for Brandon &Co.. The next list are workers who will have their wages reduced by 20 per cent.’ He sank the names on the list into the bottom of the harbour, shackled to his heart.

Wei-Hai, the Chinese foreman, could hardly navigate his way to the office the following morning. A grey dullness engulfed everything, the rain and the thunder struck Wei-Hai like a million arrows. He waded on into the mass of people and climbed up the platform even though the rain was close to pushing him down under again.

‘You hon gan! What did you promise us when you first became foreman? And now you bend in front of those snobs!’ shouted Ping.

‘There is a recession going on in the world, and the company has to cut costs. Gentlemen, we are all in this together, including me.’ Wei-Hai stood on the platform and tried to make himself heard over the shouts.

‘We’re not budging till we get what we deserve!’ roared Ping. ‘We won’t leave. Traitor! You betrayed us!’ the coolies raised their voices and the words ricocheted back into Wei-Hai’s ears, sending him tumbling down the platform, tumbling into his own abyss of thoughts. Wei-Hai was suddenly alone, his vision splattered with rain drops, and etched deep was the word ‘traitor’ in every drop.

Mr Brandon would have none of this nonsense. He literally threw the evening paper across the office and nearly hit Wei-Hai as he slouched into the office, the same soaking duckling he was several ages ago.

‘Look what you’ve done! I have wasted so much time and money on you, is this how you repay me? I told you to cut back on costs, not to start a strike!’

‘I’m… I’m sorry, Mr Brandon. But the workers, they just want to feed their families.’

‘And I have many more mouths to feed than you bunch of imbeciles. Now see to it that this matter is resolved, or you will find another way to feed your family,’ raged Mr Brandon.

Wei-Hai left the offices and went homeward, the rain still pouring relentlessly upon him as he trudged home into the dark streets. The dim light of the dried seafood shop caught the corner of his eye again. The elderly lady was standing by the door, handing out umbrellas to those who were going home. The remaining workers helped her barricade the doors against an expected typhoon. A small section of the shelves were already empty, and she looked a little sad, but the number of workers remained the same.

Fiction: Group 4

Wei-Hai thought of his own office. The company had always been harsh on lunch breaks, never mind treating them to decent meals. Wei-Hai himself had compensated the coolies, but the delighted faces he had once seen seemed so long ago. He then wondered whether the coolies were still at the pier. Did they have umbrellas? Would the Englishmen pay them to leave? But he was too tired to go back. Perhaps he no longer cared anymore. He certainly knew that Mr Brandon couldn’t care less even if any of them died.

Perhaps that was the difference between Chinese and Westerners, a difference that was wider than the whole of the Pearl River. The Chinese proverb of ‘every man for himself’ couldn’t be truer when crises hit Western companies. The elderly lady held her fort. She wasn’t one to let go of her comrades in arms. But what had Wei-Hai done to his own fighters? He acted out the captain’s orders: he, as the captain’s mate, threw them off the battleship without a moment’s hesitation.

Guilt seeped into the rain and Wei-Hai was enveloped in it. His thoughts sank deep into the Victoria Harbour. He tried to locate the promises he had dropped down there. He tried to find the list of names he sank into it. He tried to find his heart that he had shackled names to. He was glad to find the chain still intact. His thoughts came back to the Pier, and in that brief moment, he thought he saw Chi-Wo smiling at him again.

Fiction: Group 4

The New Tales of the Pearl River Delta HKCCCU Logos Academy, Lam, Yan Yuet - 16, Fiction: Group 4

COUNTRYSIDE, JAN., 2025

It is a beautiful river The nature named her Mother

Dare you drink the water of goddess A glimmer of hope may shine on you

‘What’s her name?’ you ask It’s always be Pearl River Delta

ua woke up from his dream, the only way to summon his father. He looked at a drawing— a man, a woman, and two kids. “The taller one is always me,” Hua remarked. While no one gave an ear to him, no one even wanted to. The drawing recalled his memory again…

6:00am. Clocks didn’t tell Hua the time—he didn’t have clocks, but the sun. Out of the bedroom, Hua stretched his legs and looked at the sky. Still got time, he thought. He decided to chill for a while. 10 years ago, his father left him. It’s common in countryside. As the Chinese government planned to save the clean water, people near the water source were forced to move. The policy broke their knees, farmers could not farm in rural area. The policy trapped their freedom. Families in farmland could only be the puppet on the string. “We’re uneducated farmers; we can blame no one.” Father once told Hua. Thus, Hua’s father had to work in the city – to buy necessities for the family. Hua became the eldest male in the family. Cleaning, cooking, looking after his siblings – he had to do all of the chores as his mom was too sick to manage them. Hua never complained. He knew his parents loved him; he knew the world was money-oriented. “No money, no life.” His father left this message before he left. He wished, one day, one day the world would change, no one had to suffer from bills, no one had to abandon their loved ones to earn the evil-smelling dough. Yet how long did he have to wait? No one knew. “I’m hungry, Hua.” “Kay I’m going to cook you breakfast.” Hua turned over, looking at the little shadow. Mae, when will you grow up? Hua thought. In 10 years? Until I left here? Sorry, I’d no choice. The fire was warm in the kitchen. The eagerness of freedom was dancing, the inspiration of dream was sparkling, while Hua was the only one could observe it. “Mother. I know you are dreaming about our mother, right?” She grinned. “Why not our dad?” “He’s a jerk, you know. Although he sends us cash, he has never visited us again for 7 years. And mom, she left us just to find him. You should admit he’s a fucking jerk!” “Mae! Who taught you swear?!” “That bitchy teacher in our school. Who else can it be?” “You know that’s not appropriate right?” “How do I know? Did dad tell me? Did mom tell me? Nope.”

H

Fiction: Group 4

“Okay, I am not going to argue with you about that. But I’ve got to remind you, don’t judge your dad, he leaves us because he loves us.” “Okay, I don’t argue with you about that. Cook me eggs and do what a brother should do.” Mae irritated Hua. “No eggs today. I didn’t have enough money to buy eggs.” “Fuck you.” “Don’t be childish, be educated!” Hua scolded her. While he knew, Mae would ignore it. She only listened to her mom. A petty argument is the last conversation with his sister. Hua regrets it. He should have told Mae he’s going to leave, not just leaving a letter to her. Although he wrote, “wait for me” in the letter, he wasn’t clear about what would happen to him, especially he’s in a weird city now.

GUANGMING, JAN.,2025

It is a beautiful river The government praises her wealth Dare you drink the water of goddess It costs you a hundred more RMB

‘What’s her name?’ you ask It’s always be Pearl River Delta

Jin reads out her poem in class, everyone claps. “A nice poem Jin. What’s your inspiration of it?” “My dad, Ms Tong.” Jin smiles with pride. Jin lived in a perfect family. Her dad, Curt, was a county head in China. Curt managed both economic and environmental issues in China; while his wife, who was talented in languages, was a famous translator in Guangming. Jin inherited her parents’ talents, becoming the youngest parody in Guangming. However, she didn’t like her parents. They always forced Jin to follow their routes, and they always had arguments behind the scene. She hated being a charming doll fed by her parents’ money; she needed a friend who would lead her to the path of rainbow.

GUANGMING MARKET, MAR., 2025 “Don’t step on my high heels, you little rug rat!” A lady with shiny, gold jacket disdained Hua. Hua stared at her. Although he didn’t understand what rug rat meant, he didn’t feel good. “Don’t stare at me like that, or else I’ll call the cops,” the lady intimidated him. Yet the message didn’t change Hua’s reaction. He even gazed offensively. “Wait mom, there’s no use to call the cops. They only bring us inconvenience and scandals. You’ve told me the only way to change a person is by educating him. Why don’t we take him to our home to guide him?” Hua noticed an elegant girl approaching the lady. Her warm smile made him have butterflies in his stomach.

Fiction: Group 4

Jin found childhood and happiness in Hua’s eyes. She wanted to know more about the outside world. JIN’S HOUSE, MAR., 2025 Hua gave Jin a portrait of his parents, while Jin found this portrait familiar. “I’ll help you to find them, trust me. My dad is good at searching people.” Jin twinkled. “It’s late now. Maybe you should have some sleep first. Marie, take him to the guest room.” After Hua left, Jin took Hua parents’ portrait and slippied into her mom’s room. No one’s there, great. Then Jin opened her mother’s drawer and read a diary. 19.1.2015 When can I leave this home? There are too many secrets I cannot bruit about. Today, Curt told me to keep an eye on Yau and gave me a picture of him. He’s a painter, a normal guy. I don’t even know why he’s a criminal, while Curt didn’t tell me. Well, Yau is handsome though. If he’s not disgraced, I would like to escape with him. 15.3.2021 Too bad, Yau’s dead like other offenders did. Dramatically, his wife came to find him and figure out the secret too. We have no choice. Howbeit, we know they have children. So we have to send remittance to his family in order to conceal the fact that he’s killed. Gosh, hope no one will question about the river again, I don’t want to see people being erased again. A picture dropped on the floor. Jin picked up and scrutinized it. She frowned. How can it be possible? “What are you looking at?” Mom raised her voice. “No, nothing mom.” Jin hid the diary, while she didn’t notice that the picture fell…

* It’s morning. Hua woke up from his dream as usual, while the sun didn’t wake him up. The room was as dark as hell, he couldn’t tell the time. Morning, afternoon, night? Hua stretched his legs and looked upon the sky. The sun was rising, yet he knew there was no time left. “It’s nice to see your liveliness.” Jin said. “You still want to find your parents?” “Of course, that’s the only reason I came here.” “But did they drop any hints about where they have gone? It’s impossible to find him in this big city…” “Ya, I know…” “Cheer up, Hua. We got time. Would you like to hang around now?” Jin’s face brightens. “Sure.” JIN STREET, MAR., 2025 “I love this market just because it has the same name as me. Well, the goods are quite cheap though.” Jin exclaimed. Hua looked around. Crowds everywhere. All those noises messed his thoughts. The fusty smell of banknotes covered his nose. Then he looked up to the sky, yet he only saw something greyish. What’s that, dust? Hua

Fiction: Group 4

never knew that dust would drift in the atmosphere. Fear was in his eyes more than curiosity. He couldn’t’t imagine what this ominous path may lead him to. “Why do you look worried? You hate it?” Jin questions. “No, I’m just… not used to it,” Hua couldn’t even hear what he was saying, the shopkeepers’ voices were as loud as a shrieking hen. Then, he espies a painter who’s selling landscaping works. Hua suddenly got an idea. “Pearl River Delta!” Hua cried out. “What?” Jin is confused. “My dad always told me he wanted to see the stunning view of Pearl River Delta.” His voice changed delightedly. Jin’s smile faded. “You’re really from the countryside. Do you know that Pearl River Delta is just a tale, it isn’t real.” “But my father painted me once!” “Okay, you don’t believe me. Let me search for you.” Jin took out her smartphone and Googled “Pearl River Delta”. “What’s this?” Hua raised his curiosity. “iPhone. You have never used it before?” Jin was surprised. “Why do you pronounce an ‘i’ before ‘phone’?” Hua was puzzled. Jin laughed, and presented him the 21st century technology. Still, she didn’t believe the gap between them being that large, not even in her imagination. SEARCH RESULT: 0 “What does it mean?” Hua questioned. “No result, that means Pearl River Delta is just a rumour, and we shouldn’t mention it.” Jin’s expression was stern. “I don’t understand.” “Stop grilling. It’s rather inappropriate than impolite.” Jin whispered with security, while Hua still didn’t get it. “It’s time for us to go home.” Jin’s pale face led more questions in Hua’s mind, but he knew he shouldn’t ask again. JIN’S HOUSE, MAY., 2025 “I think it’s time for me to go back to my town. My sister is waiting for me.” Hua murmured. “But, you haven’t met your parents though.” Jin looked desperate.

Fiction: Group 4

“Yes but I don’t have any clues now and you don’t even let me know what’s going on in Pearl River Delta.” The wary eyes of Jin told Hua that Jin was hiding something. As a friend, he didn’t understand why she had to do that. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to mistreat you.” “No, never mind. Just leave as you like.” Jin turned over, leaving Hua alone. Hua’s heart sank. Glancing at the cold door, he found all those memories flash back into his head. Jin’s smile, prettiness, elegance, charm. All these memories that fulfilled his empty soul once were now gone. He regretted it. He wanted to apologise. Tragically, Hua saw a familiar picture when he was trying to find in her Jin’s room. He scrutinized the picture, the blurred image became clearer and clearer. He frowned. He shouldn’t have looked at it. Everything was messed up. He saw his father in a picture. What’s going on? Was Jin hiding the truth about his dad?

* “Jin! Answer me. Jin!!” Hua knocked the door vigorously. “You know about my dad right? I’ve seen the picture! The picture of my dad is on the floor. What’s happening to my dad?” Jin was shocked. What could she do now? Although she hid the secret, she didn’t know how to express all the misfortune to Hua. Her hands were full of sweat. Her heart beat rapidly. “Jin!” Bang! The door was unlocked. Jin’s face crumpled and she started to cry. “Sorry, I don’t know. I saw that in my mom’s drawer but I don’t know how to tell you. My mom will blame me and I can’t ruin my father’s reputation…Sorry, I’m sorry…I just… just messed up everything.” “Wha? I don’t…” Hua tried to find the room of Jin’s mom. He opened the drawer and rummaged through all the paper and maps. He picked up a diary and read. 15.3.2021 Too bad, Yau’s dead like other offenders did. Dramatically, his wife came to find him and figure out the secret too. We have no choice. Howbeit, we know they have children. So we have to send remittance to his family in order to conceal the fact that he’s killed. Gosh, hope no one will question about the river again, I don’t want to see people being erased again. The words blurred in his eyes. What’s wrong with being a poor farmer in a countryside? What’s wrong with figuring out the truth? He didn’t understand. What kind of truth is that? A truth that was even worth it to kill people’s lives? Hua tore up the pages of the diary. He screamed as loud as he could. The anger, the fire, the eagerness of freedom, he expressed them with his deepest soul. “Wait! Where are you going?” Jin worries. Hua ignored her. He grabbed the map of Pearl River Delta, and rushed away. He tries to escape from the reality. He wanted to go back to his dream, the dream that can summon his father. He sped like a lightning until he reached the delta. It’s a beautiful tale. Hua took a deep breath, trying to face the fact. He glanced down the deepest darkness, there’s no way to return. The Nature named her Mother. Hua grinned. He could not describe what’s in front of him.

Fiction: Group 4

Dare you drink the water of goddess. A river without water, how could it be a river? A glimmer of hope may shine on you. The government was just ignoring the destruction of environment. It concealed the truth and erased the witnesses who wanted to spread the truth. ‘What’s her name?’ you ask. “Hey! Who’re you? You aren’t suppose to be here” A man cried out. It’s always be Pearl River Delta. Hua laughed. ‘We’re uneducated farmer, we can blame no one.’ He murmured. Water is always clean in his town. While down to the delta? Sewage, chemicals, all the wastes you can think of, are all in the Pearl River Delta. Pearl River Delta is always a tale, a falsehood; as when you doubt the reliability of it, seek the answer of the myth, your route may change forever. GUANGMING, MAY., 2036 I wake up from my dream, a dream that recalls my memories of my brother. He left me 11 years ago, leaving a message that he’ll bring our parents back. I wait for him, but he never comes back. Sadness, anger, guilt, hopeless…all the emotions are mashed up. Thus, I come to here and find him. However, a girl named Jin brings me a message, which I never understand:

It is a beautiful tale While no one knows the truth

Dare you seek the key of the hole The darkness of human flows on your mind

‘What’s the name of the tale?’ you ask It’s always be the New Tale of Pearl River Delta

Fiction: Group 4

The Fourth Region HKMA David Li Kwok Po College, Naeem, Shahryar - 17, Fiction: Group 4

t was just another ordinary day at school during Liberal Studies lesson with my LS teacher blabbering on about boring old China. Normally, this would be when my eyes would close signaling my brain to send me to the land where thoughts run wild. I was on the verge of falling asleep or as I would like to call it,

“hibernating” when she suddenly came to the part about the Pearl River Delta and there was something oddly peculiar about the way she was teaching which stopped me from hibernating. To my surprise, I was actually paying attention in probably the world’s most horrendous subject after math of course or as we refer to it,Mental Abuse ToHumans. She continued after a short pause, and started giving us facts about the Pearl River Delta and in an orderly fashion, the lesson progressed. Ten minutes remained till the end of the lesson and I let out a sigh of relief. My teacher then moved onto the geographical composition of the delta. She stressed the word “delta” as if there was more to the word than what met the eye and it seemed as if she wanted to tell me something very interesting. She proceeded by mentioning the delta, (once again stressing it) consists of three main regions namely, Hong Kong, Macau and Guangzhou. It occurred to me that the next sentence she was about to say would be what I was waiting for. Unfortunately, there was a knock on the door which was followed by the turning of 34 heads to see who it was. It was the principal who had decided to “drop in” for a surprise lesson inspection. How amusing. Moments later, the lesson ended. I couldn’t help but keep wondering, what was it that the teacher wanted to tell us? Whatever it was it would have to wait till Monday. Sigh! Saturday went by like a breeze. I guess I was too busy in conquering the colossal pile of homework I was given. Time sure flies even when you’re not having fun. By the time I got up, it was already dark outside and I was too tired to do anything else, so I had dinner and went straight to bed. Sunday followed shortly after Saturday and I was determined that I was not going to sit around all day doing nothing so I decided to sit around all day, in front of the computer and uncover what felt of utmost intrigue to me the other day – the way my teacher kept stressing the word “delta”. I fired up my computer, opened Google and typed in “DELTA, Pearl River Delta”. Two million, four hundred seventy-eight thousand, six hundred and thirty seven results popped up in about zero point four seconds.I searched for hours but had no luck, until I stumbled upon a mysterious link which had no “.com” and the fact that it went against everything I had learned in computer studies, compelled me to click on the link. Once again, luck was not in my favour and my computer had shut down due to a scheduled update I had it set to. I was speechless. I literally had nothing to say but my mind was preoccupied by the fact that there was something fishy about this “Pearl River Delta”. On the bright side, it was Monday tomorrow and I was, amazingly, excited to go to school. I managed to get through the day and it was once again, Liberal Studies lesson. I wasted no time when she asked if anyone remembered where we had left off, I swiftly raised my hand and replied, “You were about to tell us something interesting about the Pearl River Delta, Miss.” “Ah yes!” she replied. She continued in a high pitched voice, “Did you know the word “delta” is a Greek word?”. I was not surprised. We had learned that in Mental Abuse To Humans (Math). What she mentioned next was what mystified us. “If you list the Greek alphabets, you will find that delta is the fourth letter preceded by alpha, beta and gamma.” she said. She then asked, “have you ever realized there are only three main regions in the delta, but it isn’t called gamma but instead named, delta.” . I found this ridiculous and assessed whether she was aware of what she was saying, but then it struck me, why did the lesson end so abruptly last Friday, and why had my computer miraculously decide to update right when I clicked on the mysterious link?Coincidence? I think not. She suggested there were speculations that there was once another city in the delta, but was of Greek origin rather than Chinese. How incredibly interesting. Once I got home, I was determined to open that link and the fact it revealed the exact same thing had left me awe-struck. What made this more fascinating was the fact that Greece is right between Asia and Europe

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Fiction: Group 4

(in the outskirts of Asia and on the crossroads between the two continents to be exact), suggesting that perhaps ancient Greeks had probably inhabited this region once. I immediately made up my mind that I was going to the region between Hong Kong and Macau as mentioned by my teacher in the coming Christmas holidays. Who knows? Perhaps I’ll find a new region there. Moreover, I needed a topic for my English presentation and there simply couldn’t have been anything better. I convinced my family to go with me as they were fond of travelling but they wouldn’t believe in my hypothesis of another region existing there despite the seemingly flawless theory my teacher had given me which I had passed to them . I was determined to prove them wrong by saying that I would take a picture of any proof I see. Then they were bound to believe me! Upon our arrival, we were made acquaintances with a local tour guide there and he took us to the place as per the directions my teacher had given me. He had warned us that there was no transportation that could access that area due to its extreme remoteness. He also refused to proceed with us upon reaching a certain point and when we turned around, he vanished. We were on our own and it was getting dark. A sudden burst of energy erupted from the bushes behind where we had set camp and this mysterious light emerged. My family was fast asleep and I was the only one who had noticed and so got up to investigate with my camera in my bag. When I got closer, the light was so bright that it somehow caused me to faint. I woke up after several hours and it was daytime. I found myself in a time period different from the one I was familiar with. No one was holding a smartphone; there certainly were no cars or any means of electrical transport for that matter. In fact people were dressed in white robes and were busy constructing three enormous statues of the Greek gods, Zeus, Poseidon and Hades. It was a jaw dropping sight. The inhabitants there called the place Demaxus. They looked very surprised upon seeing my presence as they had never before seen a person like me. One of the Demaxians approached me and questioned, “Why art thou in such attire?” Another suggested I was a demi-god meaning I was probably a messenger from the three Greek god brothers of whom they were building the statues of. Nevertheless, they gave me enormous respect, catering to my every need. Days had passed and it bothered me that my family must have been looking for me and so I had decided to depart. I made up the excuse that I was being summoned by the gods and that I must leave at once. The people there heeded immediately to my commands and prepared me for my departure. Before doing so, I had asked one of them to help me take a picture and after I made sure everything was done, the time to leave had arrived. I thanked the citizens of Demaxus for their hospitality and bid them farewell. As soon as I said goodbye, I started to feel this dizziness take over me and passed out once again. It was night once I woke up and saw my family approach me. I was thinking that I would get scolded for having been missing for several days, but instead I was told to stop fooling around and go back to sleep. My mind was blank when I was told that I had only been gone for a mere 6 minutes. Then I proposed to myself that time must have been moving differently in the other realm. I took out my camera to see what had appeared in the photo that I had taken and all I could see was sand with some blurry structures in the background. I knew they were the statues but no one would believe me as they hadn’t have seen it for themselves. I came back a bit disappointed, but I was still quite excited of what I had seen. I only regretted the fact that I had no solid evidence to prove what I had seen. Two weeks later, school resumed and it was a Tuesday, meaning we had liberal studies lesson first. Upon my entrance to the classroom, I greeted my teacher and she asked me how my holidays were. I tried to tell her the story of what I had witnessed but she dismissed it saying, “You kids and your silly imagination”. I was tempted to ask her about why she had mentioned a fourth region in the Pearl River Delta in the first place but then I decided against it. Oh well, back to hibernating in class.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta

HKUGA College, Ho, Michelle - 17, Fiction: Group 4

earl River Delta, a region in China being well developed in many different aspects. However, there is always another side which you could never see… The wave was caressing the coast. The distant light of the Tsing-Ma Bridge was flickering

in the black plain sky. The breeze was freezing cold, but there’s nothing colder than what I have experienced. I was on my way home that night. It was a wintry winter. There was no one at all; the streets were so silent that I could even hear my breathing. All the industrial buildings beside me were worn out. The paint was peeled off, showing their grey-coloured body. There wasn’t any source of light. The sky was black and starless. The stars must have gone to a warmer place. The only source of light was from the distant flickering light bulb. I was almost home. A shadow flickered near me. I span around and saw nothing. My eyes were trying their best to search for any sign of moving object. I didn’t dare to move any part of my muscle. Suddenly, a figure bolted out in sight. But the figure was too fast. My eyes got blind folded. “Bang!” something crashed, and I had no idea what happened next. I woke up in a room with dim light. The paint on the walls was peeled off after clinging to the walls for years. I was lying on something soft, and my body was covered with a thin layer of silk. I looked up, there was a spot-light like object right above my head. And beside my bed, I guess, was a small tray with knives which made me shiver. This place made me feel unpleasant. I tried to look for an exit, but I didn’t see one. I attempted to get up, but soon realized that my hands were attached to the bed. I wouldn’t be going to anywhere. I had been lying there for a very long time since I couldn’t go anywhere. Eventually, I fell asleep. I was woken up by an injection. The person who poked the needle into my flesh looked familiar. I was searching through my brain for any information about this man. But my brain seemed to be tangled by strings. Panic stroked me when I saw the man holding a knife up high. The knife was gliding on the skin above my stomach. It was ticklish, but I couldn’t think of any reasonable reason for me to laugh. The force exerted on me by the knife was getting larger. I feel like the man was about to cut me into half. At the very moment when the knife was about to enter my flesh, a loud sound of glass breaking filled the room. It took me a few seconds to adapt to the brighter environment. A group of people dressed in black surrounded us. Who are they?

One of them whispered to the man, “if you have money for all of us, we will leave as if we hadn’t seen this.” The man shrugged, “I won’t be doing this if I have a lot of money…” He seemed to be in deep thought for a while, “how about 100,000 dollars, sir?” That person barked, “don’t be silly, you will need far more than this to feed us!” I was still wondering what that group of people wanted. Unexpectedly, the leader of the group took notice of me. “Kid, do you have money? We will set you free if you give us money,” he smiled greedily. I was shocked, how would they ever ask me for such a large sum of money? But I wanted to leave this place.

“Yes, of course sir.” This is the response I had finally come up with. “But I don’t have money with me now. How about I leave my contacts with you so that I could ask my parents to pay you later?” The leader of the group seemed to be considering my offer. He started to discuss with an older man. After an unbearable long time, they seemed to finally come to a conclusion. The leader said in a low and deep voice, barely audible, “we will set you free for NOW. But if you do not pay, you will be doomed. Leave your contact here. If this is a false one, we can still track you down.” He was satisfied with his threatening. He grinned afterwards, and I saw it.

Soon, they took me away from the mysterious room. It was dawn already. The great red sun was rising from the horizon, smiling at me. I was being left in a narrow backstreet in the city. The leader once again threatened me, but I was not scared this time. The sun was up and the bright side of matters should appear.

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Fiction: Group 4

When the black troop turned and left, I finally knew who they were: the police. People might think that I would be completely shocked, but I was not. I always knew that there were two sides of the same matter.

The streets were still sleeping in the early morning, but that’s what I needed. I rushed back home, packed my stuff and dashed for Hong Kong. The police was threatening me that my family would be doomed if I didn’t pay. But I didn’t have a family, so who could be doomed if they didn’t even exist?

Back to where I am now. The wave was still caressing the coast. The breeze was still freezing cold. The police couldn’t find me here, at least for now. It was night time now, who knew what would happen next?

Fiction: Group 4

Rot Hong Kong Academy, Huang, Alan - 15, Fiction: Group 4

G roggily, his eyes flickered open, bringing light into the darkness clouding his vision, and he looked around the room wearily, before his eyesight settled on one of his rather frail and wrinkled hands. He, with great effort, pushed on the side table and hoisted himself up from his bed onto his feet and walked clumsily out through the door of his room. He walked to the great living room and sat down by the dining table. He had many memories of things that went on by the table, of the times he and his family members would sit down and eat, and when they would have conversations over their meals. Just sitting down by the table rekindled such memories. He thought about his family members and other loved ones, and about how happy he had been with them. The memories drew his mind to his daily routine, yet as there was no one living with him, there was nothing to do but ruminate and consume what spare food that was stored. Today, he thought, maybe it was best to eat some. And so, he stood up from his chair and walked to his cupboard and pulled it open to eat the food stored inside. There were only a few cans left, and as there were few cans, he ate little. Some times, he could consume a whole can, but other times, he ate little chunks. Or there were times where he didn't eat at all. Once he would share some with his dog, before his dog passed away, the only loved one that had stayed with him while everyone else left, leaving him all alone. Just thinking of his dog caused him to look down at his spot beside his table, where his dog would wait for meals, and her trademark bark was always heard when she came by him. Her passing always seemed like yesterday, and sometimes, he would forget that she was dead, and think she was downstairs waiting for him to feed her. Whenever she was around, he would feel some great joy, and there was at least some noise to break the dead silence, but now she was dead and so the silence reigned. Since her passing, it was just him, all alone in the derelict empty city. He pulled out the cupboard and saw the meagre number of cans. Looking at it made him feel hungry, and when he reached for one, he had a thought. There was very few of the cans and when he ate them, they would dwindle and there was no way to find more food unless he found one whilst exploring outside, but only out of luck. And even if he did, it could poison him. No, it was better to conserve what could never be replenished, he thought, and so, put the can back into the cupboard and closed it. Then he looked at the window, and walked towards it, gazing out at it and pondering, while looking at the common sight of the barely visible light through the hazy sky. Perhaps it was time for a little walk. Yet there was always the danger of the air outside, even if he had the mask with him. At times — like he didn't eat at times — there were times he didn't go out of his home at all. But perhaps today would be worth the risk, and so, he reached for his mask and walked to the door of his home. The familiar unbearable gas in the air greeted him as he walked out of the door. Pushing shut the door once he was out, he walked down the long, lonesome road down to the pier from his home. He was about to set out but then, he had that familiar uncomfortable feeling in his throat and he coughed violently, putting out his hand to cover it. Every day, with his great age and his laboured breathing, he could feel death creeping closer to him. As soon as he regained his breath, he walked from his home down the grey dour road. As he walked, he passed those already familiar sights he usually saw when he walked down the roads: rusting, decrepit, crumbling cars beyond repair, some with wheels missing and some overturned, and looked up at the foggy sky, and could vaguely make out the shape of the derelict skyscrapers, devoid of life and empty, having been long since abandoned by their former residents, some of which he had met and known. Some had been friendly to him, whether he knew them or not. He then looked beside the road, where there was no ground, but a passage of water, filled with nothing but garbage, the fish having long since died, and the rivers now were nothing but filth. There was a time when they were not filthy, he remembered. The waters of the river once teemed with fish and were clear. Such good times those were, yet so long ago they were as well. As a child, all the way as he grew up, he and his family and friends would stride by the river and admire the beauty of the river with its fish. He and his family would occasionally fish by the river, and that time he had with his father so long ago by the shore was one of the greatest moments he had, where while he and his father sat down on a hill watching the sun set

Fiction: Group 4

down the sea, and they didn't leave until there was no more light on the horizon and night fell. It was there where his father taught him how to fish, and at times, teach him how to swim in the river. It was thanks to his father, that he would have a great love of the river. The river that he would always remember. Such that its shores would seem like a second home to him. No matter how many years had done, even long after his father had long passed, he would always remember the loving expression on his face. But as the smog came and trash collected, the fish would wither and die, and the river would lose its colour and beauty, and no longer would his family and friends walk by the river — only he would, in memory of something that once was. He had known how it had come to this. The careless activities of frequent visitors to the river who would leave their waste in the river, and the frequent outpour of people to this city, who sought profit and opportunity, and in their pursuit, ruined it all. And so, the once great beauty of the place was squandered and wasted, all thanks to their greed and apathy. And they sure paid dearly for what they did. Many who once eagerly came to settle for opportunities now desperately wanted to leave the polluted wasteland. He pitied them greatly at what their folly had done. As it was thanks to their folly, all beauty was gone. Slowly, he heaved himself up, walking back beyond the reach of the river and walked along the shore alongside the road. The road that had brought back many memories every time he walked on it. Often the times he and the ones he loved would all walk on it to and from home. He looked straight ahead, and decided to walk further. Here, the road was more winding; he didn't know how long he walked, but he could see the buildings even clearer and somehow, up close, they felt more ominous and eerie, with towering empty shells of structures, robbed of their glory, and nothing but husks with no one living in them. And so were the stores, with empty shelves, any food or anything of worth all taken away, nothing. Absolutely nothing. People would visit those stores and enter and exit the buildings all the time to do their work. The streets were at times clogged with cars and there was plenty of commotion and noise. Yet here they were, the bustling roads empty, the buildings empty shells, the clogged streets free of vehicles. He pushed open the door of one of the shops, stepping into a dark room, looking around for something of worth. Often, he would bring his children and his grandchildren into such shops, and then, their shelves were full of things to buy and the lights were bright. And not this desolate shell. He searched around. As usual, there was nothing much of worth, except for a few boxes lying about. Unsatisfied, he left. He did the same with the other stores and found nothing. There was nothing but gathered dust and empty silence, as everywhere, and the corners of the city always brought a strange feeling towards him. As he walked, he thought. Those thoughts of his were the only company to him nowadays with no one around. Sometimes he would wonder if he should have gone with his family instead of staying as he had wanted. Once again, he felt a violent guttural feeling in his throat and coughed very loud, and it echoed off the derelict structures, causing him to hear it all around. It was time to get back to his home. Pulling the mask as tight as possible over his nose and mouth, he struggled back down the road towards home. As he walked, he could not resist coughing out more. The poisonous air was getting to him, wrapping him even tighter with the veil of death. But he would not succumb, at least not so soon or today. With renewed strength, he ran. Down past the colourless and lifeless streets, passing the derelict empty towers, the run-down cars, they all felt like a blur to him when he ran. As he ran, he could also feel the venomous touch of the air, its claws closing tighter over his throat, and more guttural sounds escaped it, making his coughing worsen. Then, he staggered, allowing his weakness to take him, and collapsed on the ground, and lay, agony spiraling through his body. He sputtered more, and he even thought he might cough his lungs out. Coughing violently from the air, he mustered all the strength he could to stand up. But as he did that, he felt great pain. It was as if his whole body was burning apart, until finally, he succeeded. His mind was woozy and his body felt limp and again, he staggered, walking awkwardly. He struggled to have a proper view, and walk fast, but his body could not act. With great strength, he finally pushed himself up, yet even as he came up, his body felt unsteady and ready to fall. Then, he looked right

Fiction: Group 4

over and saw once again, the very river he had often laid eyes upon. And not only that, a bench to sit on. That dreaded loud guttural sound escaped his throat again and feeling it, he strode toward the bench with great strength. If he couldn't die at home, he would die at some place even more familiar and close. He thrust one leg onto the ground in front and trudged, each step taking every ounce of effort left in his body. Finally, with the sound escaping his throat once more, he sat down, relaxed on the bench, and laid his eyes towards the great river. Its beauty long gone, but its presence still there for him. As he continued looking, his strength faded slowly and was replaced with exhaustion, and not only that, he felt what was left of him slipping away as well. It would only be time before he would fall into the darkness again and never return, unlike other times he went into the darkness to rest, but this one, would be the last, and death's grasp would fully envelop him. When he was gone for good, nothing would be left, nothing that would somehow make his home lively ever again. Nothing at all. But he would make those moments meaningful with whatever strength he had to make do with. He thought, with memories filling his head, thinking of when his father would take him by the river and to distant places, of when his mother and father passed, and he too, became a father, and how his children would grow up into adults. Yet, when things became bad, and everyone would flee, leaving nothing but dead silence. Even his children left, leaving only him and his dog, who was loyal enough to die by his side. He always wondered what did happen to his children who tried to flee, what had fallen upon their homes and did this also fall upon the rest of the world as well. But even if they were no longer around, having succumbed despite trying hard to flee, he would be with them once more. As the darkness fell over him, he could feel their presence, and he would be with them once more.

Fiction: Group 4

A Day to Remember

Immaculate Heart of Mary College, Leung, Tsz Fung - 15, Fiction: Group 4

I

he image of walking through sleepy villages in the morning, saying good morning to everyone with a warm smile on my face, comes to my mind again. I, a Kung Fu teacher (or a master which the villagers addressed me), cannot forget the peaceful village and my small cottage in Foshan.

It was summer in 1939. The course fee I received allowed me to cover all my expenses, so I would go out to the only theatre in the village to enjoy a Chinese opera for a treat sometimes. On one ordinary evening, I passed by a tailor shop, with some money in my pocket, I could not stop myself from popping into the shop to order some new clothes. Anyway, the clever shopkeeper never gave up selling me something pricey. I hate someone who keeps talking and talking, instead of showing any interest in this rowdy man, I looked at the faded and decrepit shelves and cabinets for something surprising. Good heavens! I found some crocheted garments which looked rather fashionable and durable to me. I didn’t hover in that shop for a long time because I had made up my mind promptly. I ordered three new suits, and that’s all I wanted. A week later, it was time for me to pick up all my new clothes. I was a bit excited, and I wore my new clothes at night for my theatre visit again. Unlike some ordinary evenings, the crowd thronging at the centre of the market drew my attention. The curious crowd, mostly men, were surrounding a young lady, about 16 years old, who was kneeling down on the ground where some grotesque words were written, saying “Qing bang mang” which means “Please help”. The other words on the ground said that she was in need of money, and she was willing to be a maid at anyone’s home to in return for a bowl of rice every day. According to the words on the ground, she was called Xiao Hong. She looked pale and haggard which might have been due to having no food for at least a few days. Her face almost had no flesh, and it was so thin it could hardly hold her big watery eyes. The men standing next to me walked away one by one after reading the words. That was not surprising to me. I knew the villagers very well. No one seemed to be able to help her as I know that ordinary villagers might not have extra money for one more person to feed. Xiao Hong looked so pathetic, and she was alone like me. I knew that we were the same kind. I had four bedrooms in my house, and I had turned two of them into store rooms as I had had no visitors for all these years. As a Kung Fu teacher, I really had to be careful. I could not possibly just take her home because I wanted to give her something to eat. That was not sensible, and the most fearful thing was the villagers’ gossips. I hesitated. Then, I looked at her again. Her pitiful eyes touched me deeply in my soul, how could a girl look so desperate? I could tell from her face that she was an honest girl, and she hid no secrets. Again, the tears and sadness of her eyes pierced the bottom of my soul. I wanted to help her and I would. However, it was really impossible for a popular Kung Fu teacher like me suddenly to take a girl home. I simply couldn’t do this. It was not appropriate. A man and a young lady living in the same house would definitely cause me some trouble. I did not know how long I stood there looking at this pitiful lady. If I truly wanted to help her, then I should do something. So, I gave up pondering how I should help her. I took out a few coins from my pocket and threw them in front of her. She looked at me, as if she was asking for a bigger favor. I guessed that would be to take her home to be my maid. She almost wanted to cry and tried to hold my hands. In her dismay, I turned my back on her and walked away. I knew I had my new clothes on that day but I was not as wealthy as she thought. Maybe I was just like any villager. I walked away from any problems. I walked away like others. I did not look at her again. I kept walking faster and faster, and I dared not to turn round to see her again. I simply couldn’t take her home. After watching the opera, I went home as usual. Then, I saw a long, dim shadow in front of my house. Was it a ghost? It was a long shadow and that had to belong to someone very thin and tall. While I was walking towards the door and trying to figure out what kind of creature it was, somebody patted me on my shoulder. I was so frightened, and got ready to use my Kung Fu skills to hit that “ghost”. To protect myself, I held my fists tightly and got ready to fight. When I turned round, I saw that Xiao Hong kneeling down in front of me, begging for forgiveness as there was no doubt that I was frightened.

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Fiction: Group 4

“Why are you here, Xiao Hong? You should not follow me. I can’t let you stay with me. People will gossip, and all I have, my reputation, my career will be over.” “Wo…, wo…(I)…duibuqi (am sorry).” “What can I do for you, Xiao Hong? You can ask for anything except to ask to stay with me.” “Wo…” “As you can see, I am a single man but I don’t need any maid at home. I am used to living alone, and at this moment, I really don’t want to bother with anything else.” “Wo…” “Please leave me alone. I am sorry.” Xiao Hong cried desperately in front of me. She was still kneeling down in front of me, and I was startled. That was not my fault that she was so poor, and I was not her relative, so I had no responsibility to take care of her. She should not expect anything from me though I had my new suit on which might make me look a bit wealthy, but the fact is I am really not a rich man. We looked at each other, and I was touched by her honest and sad face again. “Okay. Let me think for a while. I have got an idea. You may live with my aunt, Daisy. She is living in the next village.” “Wo…” Xiao Hong looked grateful for my suggestion, and she was excited to hear this. “Let’s go now. Let me carry your bags.” Xiao Hong stopped crying, and tried to stand up after kneeling down on the ground for at least an hour. “What is your family name, Xiao Hong?” I asked her. “Zhou. My full name is Zhou Xiao Hong,” she replied with a delightful and clear voice. “What happened to your parents?” “They were sick and died. In my village, a plague broke out. My parents were infected and died.” Xiao Hong looked depressed again. “I see.” In order not to recall her repressed and sad memory again, I stopped asking her any questions. We did not talk to each other until we arrived at my aunt’s house. I knocked on the door. “Aunt Daisy, are you here?” I asked. “Lai, lai (coming),” she said. I could hear my aunt dashing to the door. Aunt Daisy opened the door. “What a pretty girl! Oh, Zhi Ming, you have got a girlfriend!” “Please, aunt Daisy, she is not my girlfriend. I have got a new worker for you. She is homeless, and she needs help. Please let her work and stay at your home or your shop. You know, I am a man, and …” “My dear boy, I know you can’t keep her with you. I will keep her with me. Don’t worry. She will help me at my shop.” “Thank you so much for your kind help. I better go home now. It’s late at night. Good night, aunt Daisy,” I said. Then, I started to walk away to go home. “Mr. Zhi Ming. Please wait.” Xiao Hong called me. “Li. My name is Li Zhi Ming. Maybe you can call me Mr. Li.” “Mr. Li. Thank you. I wanted to give you back your bag. You dropped your bag on the street.” Xiao Hong gave me my bag which had another two new suits inside. I might have laid them on the ground when I looked at her at the market centre. “Thank you very much. You are a good girl,” I smiled at her. Xiao Hong did not say “Thank you”. She bowed to me to show her gratitude. Xiao Hong was a bit shy and did not dare look at me in my eyes. “Good night, Xiao Hong.” She smiled coyly. She smiled at me. Her beautiful smile warmed my heart. My heart melted. It was her lovely smile I could not forget. I kept thinking about her when I was at home. “It was right for me to help her. She is honest. She gave me back my bag of new suits, and she acted demurely.” I said to myself.

Fiction: Group 4

I could not stop myself from thinking about her. My mind was bewildered by her beauty, and her childish and innocent face. II It was a brand new day. In the morning, I, as usual, taught Kung Fu but everything seemed different. Nothing was the same. I had joy in my heart. The joyful feeling was dwelling inside me so much. I kept contemplating her pitiful face, watery eyes, demure manner and her modesty. The most important thing was a young lady had appeared in my life. This is tremendous! How could I see her again? It seemed that she liked me, didn't she? It was lunchtime, and my stomach was rumbling. It was time for me to eat something. Instead of buying something to cook, my restless heart forced me to go to aunt Daisy’s noodle shop to see Xiao Hong. From a distance, I could see her helping with her apron on her tiny body, and she dressed neatly. Some male customers seemed to be interested in her; they tried to flirt with her using some dirty words. Xiao Hong did not care about what they said, and she just focused on her job. Her innocent and pure heart impressed me once more. Nobody seemed to pay attention to my presence but Xiao Hong knew I was there immediately. She asked me what I would like to eat. She looked robust and healthy, and she took my order quickly. I was surprised to see that she looked so different from before. Her face was glowing. Now, her big eyes manifested her honesty and probably her inner beauty. My daily routine was changed. After teaching Kung Fu classes every day. I could not restrain myself from going to the noodle shop to see her. Aunt Daisy noticed my change, as I seldom had been to her shop before. Instead of giving me any discount, Aunt Daisy asked Xiao Hong to take my order every day. After a month, I decided to give her a sign that I wanted to go out with her. How could I let her know I wanted to date her? I had never tried that before. I hung around at the market, then I saw something shining. There were some silver necklaces hanging up at a stall. I had no experience of buying things for ladies but the instinct of being a man told me women usually liked these kinds of things. The stall keeper immediately recognized me once I stepped forward heading to his stall. It was a bit embarrassing as it was apparent that I wanted to buy one of his necklaces, and they were for ladies, of course. Out of anxiety and the tension I had inside me, I could not spend too much time choosing one for Xiao Hong. I just picked at one which looked a bit durable and shiny. I did not care too much about the design. I paid for that necklace as fast as possible before the stall keeper could possibly ask me any unwanted questions which I did not intend to answer at all. III I put the necklace into a small paper bag with a note telling her I wanted to meet her on 1st October, 1939. I could not wait to give her this gift, so I did not go to see the opera that night. To make sure I could really date her, I went to the noodle shop to see her. Xiao Hong was rather busy at the shop, and I guessed she was a bit tired at the time I arrived there. I ordered a bowl of noodles with beef as usual but this time, I took out the gift I had prepared and put it into her hand. She was stunned and she did not know how to respond. “Xiao Hong. I hope you will like it, and I want to go out with you later. “ “Wo…” “Please tell me if you can go out with me or not tomorrow. The date can be changed.” Xiao Hong did not say anything. She smiled delightfully. Then, she went back to work. Luckily, there were not so many people eating at the shop, and the customers did not know me at all, so I felt at ease after pushing myself to make a breakthrough in our relationship. IV Things did not turn out well. I knew it. I am an unlucky person. I am forced to accept all the adversities I have in my life, including this tragic event. That night, everything was tranquil and calm. That night was like any other night, the whole village was peaceful and placid. When I was ready to sleep, having my regular contemplation about Xiao Hong, I heard a lot of loud noise like explosions in my village. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Then, I heard the noise of planes flying over my house. I did not know what to do, I tried to get all my money in the room and put it

Fiction: Group 4

inside a bag. Before anything could have happened to me, I dashed to get some jackets and clothes. It seemed to me that I would not be safe if I stayed at home, not knowing if I would be killed by any Japanese. There was news saying that the Japanese had invaded some parts of China. Now, they were coming to us, Foshan. I heard guns blasting away all night. It was no doubt that the Japanese were coming. They had no mercy for everyone. Many dead bodies were lying on the road, and I hardly found any place in the street without the scars of bombing. Some poor villagers died even without closing their eyes. I, holding all my necessary belongings, rushed to look for my aunt Daisy. Her noodle shop was gone, gone to nowhere. I could not find it on the ground anymore. It was bombed to pieces, including her house adjacent to the shop. The power of the bomb was so strong, it reduced all the houses and the market place to rubble. My only relative, aunt Daisy was gone. Maybe she was still alive but I could not find her at her shop, and Xiao Hong was not there too. I did not know what to do next. Then, someone called my name. “Zhi Ming, why are you here? Let’s go now!” Someone hit my head, and I fell on the floor. I could not hear anything. “Wake up, wake up, Zhi Ming,” a friend of mine called my name. I opened my sleepy eyes. My view was blurred, and people were walking like trees. After a few seconds, I gained my sight again. A man still kept talking to me. “Wake up, Zhi Ming. We are in Macau now!” I was fatigued. My whole body was too heavy to move now. My friend told me the whole story. After I was knocked down by a Japanese soldier, the soldier was called to go to some other place. My friend then picked me up and took me to a boat. They wanted to go to Hong Kong but it seemed that we were destined to end up here, Macau. V I have been living in Macau for 20 years. After I had settled down there, I asked a painter to draw a picture of Xiao Hung, hoping that I would not forget her. We did not make it to meet each other on 1st October, 1939 because of the Japanese invasion in September. The painting, a bit aged like me, faded, is now hanging on the wall of my living room. Whenever I look at this picture, I recall the very moment we met and how nervous I was when I bought her a necklace. She, Xiao Hong, is not just a painting on the wall but she was and has become part of the picture in my life. Now, I am a retired person, embracing my relaxing life style without any daily routine. I want to go back to Foshan to see my village again. What is the use of going back there? I bet everyone I know has gone. Today is my friend, John’s birthday. He is a big fan of cars, so I want to buy him some model cars as he is a keen toy car collector. When I was walking in the corridor, I saw a well-dressed woman moving into the next flat with some workers helping to move all her furniture. The furniture looked a bit old but elegant. Then, a necklace dropped on the floor. The necklace looked ancient, and the shiny surface had gone. It was a bit familiar to me. I think I had seen something like it before. “Madam, you dropped this,” I said. “Thank you,” the woman said. She suddenly held my hands tight and kissed them. She was Xiao Hong. She was just living next to me. It was the first time I had cried, and I could not hold my tears back anymore.

Fiction: Group 4

The Pearl Shell International College Hong Kong (ICHK), Cheung, Jennifer - 14, Fiction: Group 4

he young man sat alone in the cafe, his body rigid and tense. He looked as if he hadn’t slept for days. His eyes were dead and unfocused on his handsome face; cracks and slits of crimson red creeped up behind his black pupils. Even the bright, fractured sunlight that filtered in through the

slats of the window binds couldn’t keep the dullness out of his eyes. Sara. The name that once tasted sweet and vulnerable on his tongue now turned sour and bitter. The media had been cruel, unforgiving. But that was what they were: filthy, blood-sucking parasites that made a living out of exploiting others. They crushed her spirit and her smile. She didn’t love her job anymore, but she did it out of love for others. For those who pressured and pummeled and pushed her, yet she was still young and naive enough to trust them. She had found a way to escape into the dreamworld. Anybody would go mad with all the chaos and misconceptions and hate. But she had to put on a facade for everyone: Lara Monet. Lara Monet, the stunning, flawless model who lived a wild life of partying and drinking. Lara Monet, her gorgeous hair tumbling down over her shoulders, her black eyes piercing, her smile so effortlessly radiant. He was the only one who she could face without the mask of make up and glamor. He was the only one that saw her desperate, hysterical side that grappled to hold on to herself. He shook his head and reached into his bag. He grabbed his bottle of antidepressants and gulped a few down. He could almost laugh at how useless it was; no amount of drugs and therapy could assuage his pain. He glanced at the glass window; his unruly hair and rumpled clothes stared back at him. Taking a slug of water, he abruptly stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder, and left. Oblivious to the noise of the traffic and the bustling city of Guangzhou, the man absently made his way through the teeming street. Slowly, but chaotically, paparazzi gathered around him like a swarm of flies, their long, snouted, smooth cameras poised at him. “-heard anything from her family?” “Smile for the camera!” “… want to say for her?” “You’ve moved on to the next gal, haven’t ya?” The man ignored them and trudged along the corner, waiting. “How’d she die, Lara?” The paparazzi who asked was a short, stocky man with grubby hands that fumbled around the camera. There was an outburst of desultory clicking and the man squared his jaw. “She committed suicide, didn't she, mate?” The paparazzi pushed, video recorder rolling. The man’s fists clenched beside his thighs while a limousine came rolling up smoothly, and the man collapsed on the backseat. As the car cruised along, his eyes slid over the outline of the towering skyscrapers, the bright flashing signs and the bustling crowd, scurrying to get to their destination. But in the man’s eyes, everything had slowed down. He absorbed every single moment, feeling surreal, burying it deep in his memories. ‘You never know if it’ll be your last.’ Among the faces of the crowd he kept getting little glimpses of a beautiful, haunting girl, whose silky red hair rippled every time she moved, and a tall, lithe body that was sculpted just like a dancer’s. The limousine glided along silently until it reached a narrow alley. “Wait here for me,” the man instructed. He got out, and walked along the dark shadows formed by the tall buildings. He found the old door, splintered at the edges and scuffed at the bottom from years of opening and closing it. His hands paused, resting on the weathered and beaten door. A tiny voice protested in the back of his mind but it was soon silenced by all the muddled thoughts. He pushed the door open and went inside like he had done for so many years, the pounding music and fluorescent lights relaxing him. This was his escape. This was the place he had grown to be familiar with.

T

Fiction: Group 4

He walked over to the bar and slumped down on the stool. “Back again?” Smiled the bartender. The man nodded. “The usual, I presume.” The man nodded again. He gulped the drink down as he scanned the room. There were the dealers at one corner of the room, who looked very underdressed in their loose shirts and pants, hoodies and caps covering their faces. The rich celebrities were at another corner, clustered in groups and festooned with jewelry. Behind him, a shrill, nasally voice rang out. “Ooh! You’re back again? You were just here yesterday.” He turned around and gave the girl a half hearted smile. “Maddie,” he greeted. She was clearly wasted, her eyes murky and her body barely balancing itself in those ridiculous high heels. “Shame about Lara- I mean Sara,” she drawled. “She was so beautiful, inside and out. We were such close friends. The best of friends, I would say. I presume she said the same. It must be so hard on you, dealing with all the media and all that. They have no idea how difficult it is.” The young man narrowed his eyes. She sighed. “You know, sometimes we’d even get high together. We had the best time. A pity she took too much though. Can’t blame her. It’s is irresistible.” She leaned forward next to his ear, her breath smelling like alcohol. “I have the best stuff. There’s this guy that-” Everything in the room started blurring and spinning, the noise becoming shatteringly loud but muffled at the same time. Lights danced before his eyes and Maddie’s high pitched voice became louder, screeching in his ear. He pushed his way out of the crowd, the shifting and shuffling of feet dizzying him even further. He stopped outside the entrance, taking a moment to gather his breath before slowly walking towards the end of the alley. He stood, looking out at the Pearl River and the buildings on the opposite bank, where the bright lights reflected and vibrated on the surface of the water. He spotted a perfect, tiny, pearl colored shell on the ground and picked it up, fingering his own one in his pocket. “She would’ve liked this,” he said to himself. “Ooh! Look at how pretty those lights look! It feels so.. vibrant!” She had exclaimed, leaning out of the ferry and pointing at the buildings. The light had caught her face and hair, glowing all around her. He laughed with her. “We’ll come here as regularly as possible,” he had promised. They looked over the edge of the ferry and gazed at their reflection, their smiles so wide and shining it was hard to believe they had hardships in their picture-perfect life. “Hey, what’s that?” He asked, pointing at little objects glistening by the shore as they stepped off the ferry. “Those are pearl colored shells, found at the bottom of the River. That’s how The Pearl River got its name,” an official had explained. “We could take some for you,” he offered. Sara nodded eagerly, and the man came back with two polished shells that gave off a creamy hue color. “That’s perfect,” Sara said as she cradled them in her hands and offered one of them to him. Since then they had been collecting the precious shells, but had always kept the original ones with them. The man smiled at the memory but it quickly faded. ‘How long has it been since we’ve been here?’ He walked slowly along the bank, inhaling the Guangzhou air that he had become so accustomed to. He neared the Haizhu bridge, its incandescent lighting drawing him closer and closer. He smiled inwardly. This was always one of their favorite spots. They used to gaze out at it… how calm and still the water was, but the swirling lights all around made it feel frenzied and alive. She used to always lean out over the railing and spread her arms; to look like she was flying. He walked along the bridge, glancing down below him, at the still, lifeless water. All stretched out in front of him, a huge ribbon of blue and green murkiness that seemed to travel to the edge of earth. Fingering the smooth, pearl colored shell in his pocket, he pictured her auburn hair, how it always blew on her face, and she’d laugh and run her hands through it. It was one of the many things he wouldn’t be able to see now. How the monitor slowed down to a long beep as it waited for the disease to consume her and seep deep into her bones that lingered on her fragile frame… slowly evaporating… until she finally sank deep into the vast white sheet, her hair still a fiery color, spiraling out over the sheets. He raised his head, smiling and slowly put one foot on the railing, then the other. He leaned forward, and with a final breath, fell towards the calm water, his limbs tumbling over one another, his body twisting and smacking the water, the pearl shell in his pocket sinking down into the never ending Pearl River.

Fiction: Group 4

***

The buzz of the street felt electrifying in the sweltering heat. It bounced off of the streets and caused a mirage of wavering images. Photographers stood in masses, all pressed up together, perspiration beading their forehead, running in tiny rivulets down their faces. Their cameras were pointed at different things, but generally in the same direction. The police had dropped no hints as to which penthouse it was, and so the paparazzi took pictures of ones that the famous model might be in. They held their cameras steadily, their sweaty, oily fingers careful not to drop it. The public stood by the sides. Most came because they had heard the news, others had stopped on their way to work. Almost everywhere there were sounds of camera shutters, everyone holding out their phones to capture the moment. Teenaged girls stood in clumps scattered all over the street, some holding small bouquets of flowers in their hands. Behind the photographers were big, intimidating white vans with satellite dishes on top. Journalists were talking furiously into their microphone, and newsmen were talking rapidly to the cameras, all reporting the few facts that they knew. “…rumored to be a suicide attempt…police have not made any statements…” “…death still not confirmed..” “She came home at three in the morning…paparazzi were waiting outside.” “…could’ve been drug overdose…” “…boyfriend no where to be seen…” Between the recordings, the newsmen all tried to fan themselves to make sure their sweat did not show and their makeup did not melt off. Inside the huge towers was the apartment of Lara Monet. It was superfluously decorated, lush creamy carpets covering the entire floor, a brilliant structure of marble white with enchanting lights trailing around the entire apartment. Each room was extremely kept, and the police found it hard to believe that this was the home of the troubled girl. “Inspector, you might want to take a look at this,” called Detective Surgeon Zhao Lin Xi from one of the rooms. Zhao was a skinny, lanky man with deep-set, beady eyes. “What, did you find some-” Detective Inspector Yang Xin Dong stopped short as he walked in, staring at the scene in front him. Although the rest of the penthouse was immaculate, this room looked as if someone had raided it. Clothes, makeup and jewelry were all scattered around, and in the middle of the chaos lay the stunning girl. The flawless young woman’s face was pale, serene and peaceful. Jabbed into her am was a needle. Just all around the area was a spiderweb of tiny little purple and blue threads that weaved around her skin. She was wearing a very thin glittery dress, and whenever the light caught it it gave a disquieting impression of movement. Meanwhile, Zhao started examining the scene. He tapped the Inspector on the shoulder. “She did a couple lines of Charlie over there.” He jerked his thumb towards the cluttered table. The Inspector made his way over to the woman with practiced ease, careful not to tread on anything. He felt her neck, and a weak but sure beat pulsed on his finger. “We have to hurry. We might lose her quickly. Is the ambulance on its way?” “Yes, sir,” Zhao replied to his superior. “So. A classic case. Reckon this is a suicide attempt?” “Not sure, sir.” “We’ll just have to speak to witnesses then. She got a boyfriend?” “Yes, it is rumored she does, sir.” “Then we’ll have to interview him first.” Zhao nodded. They waited for the ambulance in silence, keeping a steady eye on the woman and checking for any more clues. At last it came, and the model was quickly rushed to the emergency department.

Fiction: Group 4

The news had soon spread like a wildfire, and the the model’s story shoved stories of conflict and diseases aside. Soon everyone knew of the woman’s upbringing; her perfect school record; her signing to a modeling agency at 17; her rise to stardom at 18; how her stage name changed to Lara Monet; her decision to get into acting; how she became a drug addict at 20 years old. Soon the news they had all been holding their breath for arrived: Lara Monet died at 9:43 am, aged 23. She had died with her friends, family and boyfriend beside her. Monet was originally found unconscious by the police at 4 am. Monet’s friend had called her repeatedly but Monet did not answer it, and so, being worried, she had called the police. The anonymous friend claimed that Monet had been going through a tough time and she was just concerned for her. Monet’s boyfriend stated that he had not seen her for the past few days since they were very busy and the police believed him, for the last few days before her death she was not photographed with him at all. The police released a statement saying that the cause of her death was an overdose, having taken four bags of heroin. The story hadn’t worn itself out for months to come, and the media continued referring to the tragic death of Lara Monet even years later. Her mysterious background, troubled personal life and her rise to fame still baffled others, leaving the public wondering who the real Lara Monet was. But still, after all the frenzied excitement bubbled down, came sudden and unexpected news: Lara Monet had, just before she died, swallowed a tiny, lightly cream colored shell.

Fiction: Group 4

Reality Check International College Hong Kong (ICHK), Cranfield, Katrina - 14, Fiction: Group 4

10PM

eality One: You couldn’t believe your eyes. Everything you had earned and worked for in the past

two months was gone. Well, most of it. At first, you were too stunned to move, simply staring at the remains of the green bag, it’s original sports bag shape, unrecognisable.

“He…He set it on fire…He set the bloody thing on fire! Are you kidding me?!” It wasn’t till you looked at the unfamiliar faces beside you, that you realized you’d just yelled it out loud.

Four strange men looked from you to the bag, just as confused as you were. What do they have to do with all this? After all, it is your money. Or should you say, was your money.

You leaned your upper body over the solid railing, the only thing keeping you from plunging into the river below to retrieve what you once knew as your bag. Your hands balled into fists around the icy metal, your warm sweat transferring onto it’s numbing surface.

‘Alright, calm down. It’s not a full loss, I mean surely, it wasn’t all the money or- Damn…It was all of it. That’s a lot of burned cash, damn him! Maybe if you just explain the situation to her, maybe she will understand, yeah maybe if… But then again, it’s Cecilia Haywood we’re talking about. Gah, damn it all to hell, you can just live with it, right?’ You desperately tried to reassure yourself, mentally of course. You let go of the railing and wiped your sweat riddled palms on the side of your baggy jeans, as if you were trying to get rid of all the stress and pain you felt at that current point in time. Reality Two: “Ah, what a night to be out, eh? The lights surely do bring characteristic to the city, especially since-” “Just keep driving, you’re turning left up here and then left again directly afterwards.” You cut off your friend, ‘Sugar’ as you called her, grumbling lightly at her constantly bright attitude. You clutched the green bag to your side, afraid of loosing it…again. If you were to loose sight of it once more, you know Celica wouldn’t be happy. After all, she did trust you, and trust is something hard to get back. You readjusted your helmet slightly, the wisps of hair poking out from it danced in the wind that rushed past, your eyes captivated by it’s quick yet smooth flow of movement. As you rounded the corner, your right hand moved from Sugar’s waist to the bike, gripping it so you don’t slide off, the bag still hugged to your side. 9PM Reality One: You urged yourself onwards, having no other choice but to chase this maniac on foot. You watched with both amusement and confusion as he sped and swerved all over the traffic-infested road, like watching a circus act for the first time. You barely managed to catch up, before he swerved to the left, onto the Pearl River road, sending rubble and ripped newspapers your way.

On the opposite side of the road you could see a group of perhaps three or four men? Wait, are they chasing the same vehicle? Who even are these men? You decided to ignore them and their yells of urgency, barely audible over the beeping horns of the traffic.

You continued your chase, your heart beat sounded loud and clear in your ears. Must. Get. My. Money. You pushed yourself further, greed and anger clouded your mind. The wrecked vehicle suddenly stopped, the front half entering a footbridge over the river, scaring a few pedestrians away in a hurry.

As you neared, you could just make out the figure ahead, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep puff of the cancer stick. You head over swiftly, anxiety building up as you approach. From the corner of your eye you see the four men advance towards the drunk as well. “Give us the bag, we need it and it’s ours, not yours. So-” The (presumed) leader of the group barked, but was soon interrupted by your outburst.

R

Fiction: Group 4

“No! That bag belongs to me; it has my money in it.” “Money? But I checked it earlier, it should only have-” The clearly pissed off leader was cut off yet again, this time by the drunk. “Wait, ya mean, er, this ‘ere bag?” The drunk slurred, cigarette dangling out his chapped lips. You watched as the drunk stared, confused, at the green bag in the back seats. “Give it here-” “No! It’s my money! Give it to me!” Both parties reached over, however, the drunk was surprisingly quick. “Ifa ya both want it that bad then yeah? Errr, I guess no one’ll get it, hm. Yeah that’ll work, ain’t it?” You could only watch in horror as vodka was doused over it aggressively, before he opened a small part of the zip, shoving his recently lit cigarette into it.

No voices were heard for a while, only the sound of the city night around them, vehicles driving past either side of the river, the crackle of fire and a harsh splashing of water, was heard. Reality Two: Finally, we lost them. You looked behind you to see the remains of the wreckage, a car and two police motorbikes smashed together in a bloody mesh of metal and flesh. You wanted to loose the cops, but maybe not their lives. I suppose it couldn’t be helped. You pondered as you rushed past the scene, weaving through traffic on the back of the sporty motorbike. “Can you pick up the pace? There’ll be more on us if we keep going like this.” You yelled out over the blaring horns, trying to at least get a message across. “What?” Sugar retorted back, having to slow right down to squeeze between lorries, trying to not get crushed. “I said, can you pick up the pace?!” You bellowed louder, leaning forward. “Does it look like I can? There’s traffic everywhere! Wait, I got an idea.” She grinned and quickly began to swerve..

‘Woah okay, changing direction. Left? Okay then. Never been here. Does these even lead anywhere? Woah, that was close, yeah yeah, sorry. Don’t mind us. Now just to loop around here. Better hold on again. Man, she sure loves to wear leather. Woah. You got this. No falling off. That’s just embarrassing. Last set of crates. Never mind. Okay, we’re through. Phew. Glad we got away from the traffic. Clear road? Eh, seen quieter. Just weave through. Nice and easy. Just another normal night.’

You stare at the lights reflecting off the water, before quickly looking away, concentrating on the task at hand. 7PM Reality One: Glancing around rapidly, you wing down a taxi, getting in clumsily, making sure the bag was out of the driver’s reach. You leaned forwards slightly, arms snaking around the bag. “Other side of the bridge- I mean river, yeah, use the Bridge hardly any one uses, and make it quick okay? I’ll even tip you come on let’s go!” You constantly looked behind you, waiting to see your boss emerge from the automatic sliding doors, fuming. The taxi driver nodded quickly, a sharp glow in his eyes after you mentioned the tip. At this point, you didn’t care; you just needed to get out of that place, and fast. It was only as you pulled out of the building, did you see what you thought was the devil. Your boss’ whole face was red with anger and embarrassment, attempting to run after you in her 5-inch heels. You simply chuckled to yourself, watching amused. ‘Now, don’t get too cocky, you still need to get it to the info broker. Cecilia. Surely, if I don’t get this to her, she’ll kill me. Nah, that isn’t going to happen, you got the money in the bag, quite literally.’ You mused for a short while, but your focus was broken when you went through a crossroad at full speed, a motorcyclist whizzed right in front of you with blaring police lights blocking your senses- And then. Everything. Stopped. Reality Two:

Fiction: Group 4

‘Damn, that car is quick. Easy now, don’t want to- And they are already after us. Man, do the police ever give us a break?’ You sighed as you watched the rear view mirror for a short while.

Your head quickly whipped around as they started screaming the sirens as well, as if the lights weren’t enough, we already know you’re chasing us damn it, that’s not going to stop us! Woah, weaving our way through, never thought you were going to rev it up that much, eh?

You held onto the petite woman driving the motorcycle, catching up to the car that held your goal. Sugar was the nickname you had given said woman. She works at this mechanics place, but owns a pretty sweet motorbike. You used to own it a few years back. One day you needed it fixed, but you had no money, so you gave it to her and in return, you could call her up anytime and get a ride. It worked for both parties, she got to get out of work and you were able to commit to…other things.

Today was one of those days when you needed her to drive you around, but as usual, you were a suspect and the police were on your tail 24/7, but to your amusement, have never actually caught you. Just like some Tom-and-Jerry cartoon, or something.

As the chase continued, you got bored, deciding to just hurry things up. “See those lights up there? At that crossroads? Well they’re about to change to red, just keep going,

we might loose them if other traffic comes from another direction.” You called out over the rushing wind. Sugar sped up, racing through the amber light, barely missing an oncoming taxi and making safely

across. Now all you have to do is get the bag from that van and- “Cecilia? Yeah? We have it, on our way back now, see you in ten minutes or so. Yeah, alright,

bye. …Oh and one more thing, would you mind making me a cup of tea? Thanks.” 6:30PM Reality One: ‘Go on, just walk up to her, you can do this. Negotiate. Yeah, just talking usually does the trick… No violence necessary. I mean, what’s suspicious about an early paycheck? Just keep things as simple as possible.’ You hesitated before walking through the doorway, the door sliding closed behind you. You fidgeted and straightened your suit, doubt building up in your mind.

Nearly there, just step, one, two, one two. There she is. She looks busy. Alright. Calm down. Just wait. I think she’s finished.

You cleared your throat, her head turning to see you, eyes narrowed like a predator on it’s prey, tight lips hanging naturally in a frown.

“Yes? Hurry up, don’t keep be waiting.” “A-Ah yes, well, you see, I’ve been having some, er, difficulties lately, yes, and I was wondering if

you would uh, let me have my paycheck early…? Maybe…? Please…?” You wanted to face-palm so hard at your appalling performance, your voice was clearly shaking and unsure.

“…” Her eyes stared sharply, burning into yours. “No.” She motioned to the bag at her heels. “I need this money for my own issues thank you very much, now get back to work before I deduct this weeks payment.”

Her long, elaborate fingernails reached down to the bag, but you knew you were quicker. You knew you could get there before her. You knew you would get fired. But, you knew it was better than facing Cecilia. You knew you could do it.

So you did. Reality Two: As you saw Sugar approach, you grinned and gave her a wave. She slowed down and let you on before speeding off, the roar of the engine breaking the evening, subtle glow. You adjusted your helmet as she drove, telling her directions every now and then. You kept to the far side of Guang Zhou, riding through the alleys on the outskirts. The quiet chill sent shivers down your spine, but you shrugged it off, keeping a sharp eye out. Then you saw it. The green bag, just how Cecilia had described it, in what you thought must the guy’s hands, and now he’s…passing it to someone else? No that’s not right. Sugar glanced to them, understanding and took an exit off the alley and pulled up next to them, a quiet service road on your right hand side.

Fiction: Group 4

“Oi.” You got off the bike, pulling your beanie further over your head, sliding off your sunglasses. “What do you think you’re doing with that money?” Both men looked at each other confused, then turned back to face you. “Money? What you on about mate? This is heading straight to the shipping docks, not some low life criminal like you.”

Your eye twitched at this comment, taking a step forward. “Give it to me now, the money is meant for Cecilia Haywood, the info broker.” “I’ll tell you one more time, this ain’t yours, or Cecilia’s money, it’s gun parts heading out of here

at 3am-” “Gou, keep your mouth shut! Remember, this isn’t any of their business!” “Sorry Tsung, but let’s just get these parts outta here before they-” You huffed, tired of their excuses and bolted forwards, intent on getting the bag from them, intent

on completing your mission just like any other day. In just a few short seconds, the bag was lobbed over your head, in a sad attempt for this ‘Gou’

person to catch it. The result? Either Gou’s too short, or the throw was too high. Either way, the bag ended up flying over his head, over his arms and landing onto a passing van’s roof top. Great.

“Come on Sugar, let’s go before we lose sight of the van.” You went over to the bike, straddling the seat, holding onto Sugar’s jacket again.

‘That timing was weird… At least it wasn’t run over. Plus they won’t be able to catch up to it in that state. Now to get away without the police- Too late…’ 4PM Reality One: You walked briskly through the evening streets of Guang Zhou. There was hardly a soul, a few rats and a dying cat. You kept your head down nonetheless. As you turned onto the service road, you heard voices. “Here, as you asked for.” “Thanks, oh, by the way, the name’s Gou Lee. It’s been a pleasure working with you.” You glanced up ahead, seeing them passing a green bag between them. “I’m Tsung Yi, I’m sure you’ve heard of my big boss, ‘Big Bao’ as he calls himself.” “Ah yes, well, tell him these parts are going to get there safely, no trouble, the cops won’t find out I promise you that.” They shook hands firmly. “I suppose I’ll see you again, oh and…” Their voices died out as you made your way deeper into the city, pushing aside this seemingly normal event. Reality Two: “Just another normal mission then?” You asked Cecilia after he blunt instructions. “Yes, and as per normal, you keep 10% of the money.” She spoke, tongue curling on every word like a snake. She spun in her chair to meet you with a smirk and an amused gaze. You raised an eyebrow, already aware that she does this every so often, her knowledge of the Pearl River Delta area greater than anyone’s. “What will be so interesting about this one then? I can tell from that expression, what’s going to happen?” You sighed softly as she simply shook her head. “That would ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?” She purred, sending you on your way. 10:30PM Reality One:

You let go of the railing and wiped your sweat riddled palms on the side of your baggy jeans, as if you were trying to get rid of all the stress and pain you felt at that current point in time.

‘I guess it’s time to make my way home now, I have nothing else to do… Damn what’s my wife going to think? What about my boss?! I’ve lost the money and my job! Tonight’s going to be a long night… Better get myself a coffee. Yeah, coffee. Coffee fixes everything.’

Fiction: Group 4

Reality Two: As you rounded the corner, your right hand moved from Sugar’s waist to the bike, gripping it so

you don’t slide off, the bag still hugged to your side. You pulled up to the building, hopping off the bike. “Thanks again, oh and sorry for all the trouble.” You grinned and scratched the back of your head,

bag securely in your other hand. “No problem, call me if you need me.” You watched as she drove off into the night, still being

able to hear the engine after she had disappeared from sight. “Took you long enough.” Cecilia said, staring out from her large window eighteen stories up. “Got caught up.” “I saw, all of it. And as I predicted…” She takes the bag from you, scanning its contents. “You

arrived with these illegal parts.” You could only stare in confusion at the gun parts. “I saw it all, how two simple tasks became so complicated, working in different people’s favors.”

She said, pointing to a sad, ragged looking man by the river bridge, a destroyed bag flowing down the river. “It clearly didn’t work in his favor.” She continued to purr. “But it did work in ours.” She mused,

pushing the bag towards you, nodding her head to her shelf, her collection. “Put it there, then we can adjust to these…changes.”

Two different sides of the city, two different people, two different lives, two different stories, two

very different realities. But when they cross over, remarkable events take place, with very different outcomes than first expected. Some are easier, some aren’t.

Now, the question is, which reality do you choose?

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta International College Hong Kong (ICHK), Wong, Ian - 14, Fiction: Group 4

Chapter: 0

preading out rough arms and blocky wingtips. Her sleek body scythes across the thick forests as she reaches forward towards the horizon, whimsically spiraling off for a roll and a spin before returning back on track.

“Arc, please refrain from aerial acrobatics during combat operations” “Come on Garnet, I’m still five minutes off TCZ” An exhausted sigh sounds through the mike “Would it kill you to give your dispatch a break?” SWARM LAUNCH DETECTED: FORTY-FIVE SECONDS TO IMPACT Bearing down from the heavens, a swarm of missiles darted and arced, slicing apart clouds with two jets menacingly gaining pace. “Contact. Two missile carriers. Probably taking runs at our guys before they saw me” “Try not to get blown out of the sky. We still need you for recovery.” “Ah Tina, always one to encourage” “I would be if you didn’t always get into trouble Geyn” “Come on, it’s not that bad. Right?” Quick flashes of light fly just above the left wing. “Focus on the targets Arc” Followed by a swift click that signaled the deactivation of the transmitter. “Now that that’s over, time to get to business.” PROXIMITY WARNING: TEN SECONDS TO IMPACT “AI, activate combat mode! Input mode, manual!” FIVE, FOUR, THREE , TWO, ONE IMPACT. Where the ship stood, a massive fireball burned bright as the two jets circled around. Without warning, three golden lances of light stabbed through the flame, two slicing off the wings and one of them blowing a ragged hole straight through the center. Within the blink of an eye, the plane was gutted through it’s metal armour, front and rear collapsing into an explosion. What stood alone where the flame once stood looked completely different from before, a humanoid, metal monster now takes it’s place. It hovers vertically in place, wings now spread out wide behind and engines full-blast.

S

Fiction: Group 4

Her old body seems to have exploded everywhere. Her sleek hull plating strapped to two metal appendages, her smooth head split apart to reveal a angular, rough face; her old metal face now placed over her ears. Cradled in it’s arms, a long, black object stands tall, smoking white in the face bright blue of the sky. It turns and locks eyes with the pilot of the last jet as it swivels to bring it’s weapon to bare. Gaining new urgency, the remaining interceptor rapidly turns until it’s chain guns point dead center; but it was too slow, it already had him in his sights. As the cockpit was ripped apart, the pilot inside was also crushed; spewing out like a mist as it tumbled into the earth below. Now spiralling silently in the sky, Geyn pants breathlessly. A familiar voice resonating through the cockpit jolts him back to attention. A TRANSMISSION ON FRIENDLY FREQUENCIES IS REQUESTING YOUR ATTENTION DO YOU WISH TO LISTEN? “Sure. Patch him through” “Attention. Please identify yourself.” “Finally! a god damn friendly around here! This is VAM fireteam Echelon. We were supposed to support an infantry division in sweeping this area. We’ve been pushed back by fierce enemy resistance.” “SVAM-41, tagname “Arc” at your service” “VAM-3-189, tagname “Blitz”. Enough chit-chat. We’ve been on the defensive for hours now. We’ll relay some critical target data to you. When you’re done blowing them sky-high, provide close support for the infantry” “Gotcha” WARNING: AA FIRE DETECTED Suddenly, bright lights flared up all across the sea of green below. In the time it took for both the jets to go down, an AA squad arrived. Through their communications and the live cockpit-cam, they saw first-hand the fate that befell the two pilots. The inexperienced units in the AA team below reeled back in disgust, some vomited; others put down their sights and began inching back in fear. However, the veterans simply grunted, wiped their weapons of any blood and began firing shots. Although caught unaware, the machine quickly responded. Cutting engines, it pointed itself towards the ground before going down full-blast. After a few milliseconds, several fingers of death reached out from the forest. Artfully dodged all of them with all the aplomb of the greatest masters of music and dance, flirting death and danger with every spin, spiral and, roll while chasing these rivers of steel all the way to their source. Suddenly, one of the rounds landed on target, impaling itself into it’s metal chest. It spiraled out of control for a few seconds before slamming itself into the midst of the source of the flak fire. The last thing most of them saw were the debris thrown up from the crater formed before they were ripped apart from their midsection, screaming in pain as their insides were spit sky-high. A few tried to run, only

Fiction: Group 4

to be smoothly executed by a well-aimed shot from behind; these ones died neatly and quietly, rifle rounds through the head. However, one of the cadets who ran early managed to abandon their unit just in time before it too was blown up. Cowering for life behind the roots of one of the trees, waiting until the the frequency of gunshots slowed down. Then and only then did cadet finally allow a sneak peak at what nearly destroyed his squad. What it was can best be described as a demon from hell. It’s skin smoking all over and even burning in some parts, the dent in it’s chest was still smoldering from the impact; soulless eyes scanned the ground, disfigured face striking fear into the deepest parts of the heart. It moves slowly yet methodically, checking every single unit for it’s pilot; giving mercy killings for those bound for death. Eventually, it moves onto the remains of the cadet’s unit. Scanning it’s surroundings, it halts with it’s head pointed directly at the hiding spot. Overcome with fear, the cadet scrambles back into cover. There was silence, suddenly followed by a stampede of metallic stomping ended with the cadet being just meters away from the mutilated metal mass. Now with increased clarity, two white words stand out. ARCHANGEL Eyes wide with fear, the cadet drops down on trembling knees and raises hands into the sky. “Please... don’t. I have a family, two lovely kids and a wife. I promise, I won’t report back. In fact, I’ll tell you everything I know! Just let me live! I beg you!” The monster stopped, as if those words hit some human part in it’s soul. Calmed by this act, he slowly began to stand up. A three shots sounded from afar. Anti-armor shells are designed to gouge gaping holes out of armored vehicles. As one can imagine, a shot from one of these things will basically kill anyone. The thing is, that isn’t an explosive shell, it would have been cleaner. Those rounds were KE or kinetic energy penetration rounds. Essentially, it’s a huge metal rod fit into a slug. The slug would rip apart metal plating while a secondary explosion ensure the rod had enough kinetic force to shred apart anyone inside. The end result isn’t exactly a pretty one. They came with no warning at all. The cadet wasn’t even aware he was going to die when before being ripped asunder. Before the crimson spray could settle over the plating of Archangel, the other two rounds had already impacted. When Geyn returned to his senses, the first feeling he had was that of intense pain all over his body. In spite of this, his training kicked in as he scanned the forest until he spotted the enemy unit fleeing. Putting the target in his sights, he lets loose a three-round burst of his own. The first two shots managed to heavily damage the chest armour. When the third shot hit, it didn’t stand a chance. It went through, leaving a one meter wide hole out the other end. The target slowed down from a sprint to a standstill as if only just aware of death. Looking down at the river of oil and blood pouring out of it’s chest, it placed a hand over the source of the bleeding. It then stopped moving, fell over and shut down.

Fiction: Group 4

Now sitting alone in his cockpit, staring at the dark red trees and metal corpses of where his enemies once stood. Hurting all over. He bent over, only to realize he was choking on a foul mixture of vomit and blood. “Arc come in! Arc, please respond! are you still operational? Arc?” Releasing his face mask, he let the foul mixture hit the metal floor. He closed his eyes, trying calm his mind. The instant his lids shut, he replayed the last moments of the soldier who tried to surrender in his head.. Shocked by this act of betrayal, he shook his head and blinked his eyes; trying to forget what happened. “Just look into my eyes and focus on my voice” “Tina? is that you? Tina?” Chapter 1: As I opened my eyes, I realized I was sitting on a sofa back home. Not the bombed-out hell hole it is now, I’m talking about my home as it was before the war. The sun was bright in the sky outside as I observed my surroundings. The tv was playing a news broadcast softly in the corner as I tried to shake of my drowsiness. “Breaking news: as of five minutes ago, war has been declared on the sta-” Bang. The door flew open as a cheery woman waltzed into the room. She was roughly as high as he was, her skin tanned a tone of dark orange that can only be found in those who work in the sun regularly. As she flung off her long sleeved shirt and pants, I saw the tell-tale white lines of a farmer’s tan. However, this also made it even easier to tell who had the bigger muscles. She sneaked across the room only to jump on me, waking me with a jump. “Hey Geyn, get your fat-ass off that sofa will ya? you know, our family has this saying: “Offer water to those who catch you fish”. You know what it means?” “Jeez Tina, I’m exhausted. Also, you and I both know how hot it is and we both know that we’re just gonna get heatstroke if we try and go fishing under this heat” “Not my fault you’re a sweaty, whiny idiot who doesn’t bring enough water” She said as suddenly flicked my nose, sprinting towards the door. When she reached the door, she blew me a kiss before taking off a top speed. “Oh it’s on” I shouted after her as I flung off my long-sleeved shirt. Eager to catch up to her, I bolted out the door. “-All citizens are to retreat to their designated civilian safe-zones. Thank you for your co-operation” As I began to tire, I noticed her. She was only ten meters ahead! WIth renewed energy, I chased her across the riverbank. With smiles on our faces, we ran until I was finally able to catch up.

Fiction: Group 4

Sensing a chance, I jumped out like a tiger, tackling her in her midsection. After rolled across the ground, I finally ended up on top. As we they stared into each others eyes, I felt a familiar warmth on my cheeks. Recognizing an opportunity, Tina playfully pecked me on the lips and when I was stunned, rolled up on top. She continued, pressing her advantage. This time, I was ready. Instead of peacefully submitting, I stuck in my tongue, capturing and playing with hers instead. Shocked by my new approach, I easily rolled back on top. Sensing a shift in mood, I began caressing her body gently. Finally unable to contain herself, she gives up and listens silently to the intimate seeds of love growing in our hearts. As I continued, those seeds of fiery desire grew strong and tall. Time around us seemed to slow and although we were outside, we didn’t really mind. Our breath quickened, our hearts beat faster as the wave passion grew taller and taller until we couldn’t hold it in anymore as it finally came down with one loud crash. The ultimate expression of love. Breathless and still panting, I looked to see her face. Although was panting just as hard, she managed to say these words “And you said you were exhausted. That sort of passion doesn’t come from a tired man” We both laughed as we collapsed into each other’s arms, content just lying together in the sun. Suddenly, a loud whistling awaken us from our nap, followed by a large explosions that threw up a plume of soil nearby. Jolting to attention, I turned to make sure Tina was alright. However, Tina was one step ahead of me and had already gotten up. “Come on Geyn! I don’t know what’s going on, but we need to go. Now!” As we ran hand-in-hand through the shrubbery, I heard the high pitched screams of many of engines as well as the gruff shouts of infantrymen along with a the unmistakable sounds of warfare. After running for a while, we finally reached a clearing where a transport with the humanitarian services emblem primed and ready for launch. “Come on Geyn! Escape is just ahead!” The squad assigned to protect the transport suddenly turn around and aim at the pair. “Don’t shoot! We’re civilians!” “That’s the last of them. Get in, pronto!” As they said that, a drone dipped out of the sky. “Strafing run, get down!” As Tina and I lain down, the man in front of us was ripped to chunks. His ballistic armor bore through his chest, his limbs dismembered where he stood. The other soldiers continued firing into the sky, eventually driving it away. My body suddenly froze, heart rate increased, breathing grew quicker. I tried to shield y eyes from the sight but my hands and legs felt heavier than lead. I lost control of my body as time slowed down to a crawl, still staring as the grisly remains tumble into the ground.

Fiction: Group 4

I wanted to move, take control of the situation. I know how to use that gun! reach out a grab it! My body wouldn’t let me. Instead, my head acted independently. I turned round to face Tina and I kept mouthing the words: “I can’t do it Tina, I can’t do it” “Geyn, you can do it! Our exit’s right in front of us, we’re gonna live!” “I can’t do it Tina. I just can’t do it” All of a sudden, Tina stood up, walked over to me and squat down. With the calm voice of an mother, she said: “Geyn, listen to me. We’ll get on that damn thing and we’ll get out of here alright? Now, focus on the sound of my voice. Just ignore everything else. Everything is going to be all right. You just need to make it out of here.” “Promise?” “Promise” Drying up my tears, I summoned all my strength and began slowly dragged my arms and legs across the final five meters. “That’s the spirit Geyn! you can make it! you’re almost there!” As I was one meter off, I allowed myself one moment of relief. Then a shout was heard: “Another drone coming in for a strafing run! This one’s got missiles! get us in the air quickly! ” As the soldier began firing at the newcomer, my body began to freeze once more. “Come on Geyn, it’s less than half a meter away now. Keep going!” “I can’t! I want to keep moving, but my body’s frozen in place!” “That’s it! I’m closing the boarding ramp!” Suddenly, I felt a strong shove on my back, flinging me up the boarding ramp of the transport. Turning back, I saw Tina standing with tears in her eyes. “Be strong Geyn, be strong” As the ramp closed, a tsunami of anger, fury and self-loathe filled my mind. Why couldn’t you move? Why didn’t you try and save her? How can you even call yourself a man after being saved by a woman like that? I just collapsed, crying into my palms as I cursed at the world.

Fiction: Group 4

As the whine of the engine grew louder, my tears suddenly stopped. I felt calm, my mind with razor sharp clarity and focus. Searching around the craft, my eyes suddenly landed on the side door. In a fit emotion, I slid the door open. “Tina! Get in, now!” “Geyn, I knew you’d find a way, I knew you’d do it somehow” “Now’s not time for us to get sentimental, run!” As she ran towards me, I opened my arms as my eyes began tearing up for the second time. Suddenly, one fist of lighting slammed through her right leg. “AUUGH!” “Hang in there TIna! hang in there!” As the craft began taking off, I ran towards her. “Tina, don’t die! Here, put your hand over my shoulder!” “GAAAAHR!” “Hang in there!” By this point, the craft was already over my legs. In a split-second, I grabbed the landing gear. Using strength I never thought I had, I pulled both myself and her onto the skids. Hanging on tight, the ship suddenly banked left, narrowly dodging missiles that flew inches across my face. “Geyn, I don’t think I’ll make it” “No Tina, listen to me: you’re going to make it ok? I’ll get you to hospital and they’ll patch you up like new ok? Just look into my eyes and focus on my voice” “Pardon? hello? are you there?” “Blitz, I’m fine. Over” “Good god. I thought you died. We need backup, now. They’re closing in and we need you to cover our arse.” He spat out the rest of the mixture in his mouth before applying his mouthpiece. “Roger that, I’m enroute. ETA one minute” Just watch me Tina, I’ll return home. I promise.

Fiction: Group 4

Mother China

Island School, Chan, Wing Kiu - 14, Fiction: Group 4

other China awakens, tired from the long month of working. She stands up and stretches and floats to the pale blue sky. The smell of the rain from yesterday seeping through her nose. She arrives at the transparent platform of the sky and walks to the wooden mahogany table that they

gather to every month. She sits down on her usual black armchair and leans back thinking of what might happen in this meeting. Her red dress flows down from her chair to the floor, as if it was a red carpet for the others to walk on. She taps the table 3 times, slowly but loudly. The hollow sound of the table rings throughout the sky and the children of the Pearl River Delta awaken. “Please gather my beautiful children of the Pearl River Delta,” Mother China calls out, her voice booming through the land, “it is the time for us to gather once again. Come, come now.” One by one, the children of Pearl River Delta awaken for their monthly meeting, rising from their land, it’s bodies floating up to the sky to meet their mother. The children begin to gather, one by one settling around the round table. They sit and begin to chatter, updating on each other about the things that have been happening in this month. However the greater ones of them came in last, Foshan, Dongguan, Macau and Hong Kong. Foshan, walked in with his chest held high, his wing chun outfit blowing in the wind. The black shirt, black pants and black kung fu shoes made him look like a shadow. He strutted his way, looking down upon people when walking. Everybody looked up to him since he was one of the mother’s favourites. Mother China smiled as she saw her proud son walk in. Next came Macau. Just like every month, he came with his beige trenchcoat and his suit. His hair was gelled back with a brown fedora on top of slick hair. His shoes were shiny and brown just like his hair. He took of his fedora as he sat down, leaning back on his chair and placing his legs apart, his head cocked back with a smug on his smile. He pulled away his cigar and smirked looking upon his siblings. He then blew air out of his mouth and white smoke came whirling out of his mouth immediately. Hong Kong walked in straight after Macau. His green polo golf t-shirt was still worn with his red and white checkered pants. He rushed in, checking his watch every minute or so, fidgeting with his round glasses all the time. Underneath his eyes were huge dark circles, could say it resembled a panda and his face was covered with wrinkles. He plopped himself down, rubbing his eyes and fiddling with his white gloves that were still worn around his hands. Lastly came in the beautiful Dongguan. She was beautiful unlike any of her siblings but she didn’t have a smile on her face. She looked, annoyed. She pushed everybody and everything out of her way and walked straight to her seat without talking or even looking at anybody. Her red qi pao with her matching red high heels as if harmonizing with her mother. Her face was full of makeup, her hair tied up in a bun. Her eyes flicked around instead of just looking at people properly. Mother China smiled as she saw all her children walk in. When everybody began to settle down, she began to stand up. Everybody immediately quieted down and looked at Mother China. She was getting old, even her movements were obvious to her children that she was beginning to age. She moved slowly, but at the same time making sure everything was gentle and elegant. “Welcome children. I am glad to see you again. It has been some time since I have last seen you but you all still look young and fresh. Now let’s see shall we begin our meeting the old fashion way? Reports first, complaints later. Now Hong Kong, my young boy begin.” Mother China said as she moved her hands around, signaling her children to listen intently.

M

Fiction: Group 4

Hong Kong stood up as Mother China began to settle down back in her seat. He fidgeted around then took a deep breath and began to speak in a very fast tone. “Well I guess not much has happened but I guess you can call that a lot has happened too, well the biggest issue is occupy central which you all probably would have heard of, but don’t worry it’s now all under control and I can assure you that next meeting this issue will be settled so don’t worry about me Mother China and just continue on with the others.” He breathed out a sigh of relief and smoothed out his golf shirt before sitting down. Mother China smiled and said in a soft and gentle voice, “Well, that’s great to hear. I trust you Hong Kong, but make sure you get that fixed. I don’t want any complaints to be coming from other parents about how us China is being unreasonable to our people don’t you agree?” Hong Kong nodded continuously until Mother China laughed. Hong Kong immediately became embarrassed and began fidgeting with his glove again, pulling on every finger as if wanting to rip it off. “Your turn my darling Macau, speak. I will listen.” Macau stood up slowly and looked around. Everybody stared back at him, waiting for him to speak up. He smirked and stared back at Mother China. He pulled his cigar out and blew out the reeking smell of smoke out of his mouth. “It’s just this and that again. I mean what do you expect would happen in just these short few days of a month.” Macau said in a slow but cocky tone. “As usual, it’s just gambling, drugs, gambling, drugs and gambling again. Told ya it would be the same didn’t I?” He bit on the cigar that was hanging between his fingers and sat back down, leaning back into his chair and moving his leg up and down. Mother China sighed and turned to Foshan. “Well, I hope your report will be slightly more… mm… positive shall I say my dear boy?” Foshan stood up immediately will pulling his black kung fu shirt straight and smiled. “Of course mother. Even though this may not be the most positive thing, but I can gladly assure you that there is nothing wrong going on, no drugs, no riots, just a normal city.” Foshan gave a reassuring smile to Mother China as he sat down. Mother China finally let out a sigh of relief and murmured to herself. “At least I have one reliable son…” She looked back up to Dongguan and her eyes lighted with a spark of light. “My beautiful daughter, would you have anything to report?” Dongguan sat there, not moving. “Dongguan? My darling? Speak. I am waiting.” Dongguan flicked her eyes to Mother China. “Speak huh. To you? About what. Do you want me to tell everybody what you did to my city?” Mother China stared at Dongguan, surprised at her attitude towards her. She frowned. “What are you talking about? I am unclear. Speak with more elegency young lady.” Dongguan laughed. “Acting innocent now huh? Don’t play games mother. I know it was you. You took away my business, took away my only dream to becoming big like brother Hong Kong. Even though it may be shameful that I’m famous for prostitution but guess what, at least I managed to make money from this! Factories, my only other source of getting money are all leaving me too! You happy now?” Her voice rose as she spoke, from speaking to shouting. Her eyes flared with anger and her breathing became heavier after every word she spoke. Mother China stood up. “Dongguan. How dare you speak to me like this! I am doing this for your own good. You should be glad and not mad. Go away, I do not want to speak away for the rest of this meeting.”

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Dongguan stood up and ran away, tears coming out of her eyes. She decided that this wasn’t going to show Mother China anything. She wanted to show Mother China what she was really capable of. She decided to take a rest, not do anything, shut down her city for a while. Make Mother China payback for what she did to her.

--- For the next couple of days, nothing seemed to happen. But soon, complaints started to come in. Companies from all around the world began to call Mother China, telling her how much their business is dropping without Dongguan’s factories to support it. At first Mother China was ok, she managed to convince companies to resolve the problems another way but soon it was out of control. Every minute or so, the telephone would ring and she would yet have to convince the company of using another way. Mother China immediately calls on her dearest sons Foshan and Hong Kong to attempt to convince Dongguan of going back to work. They immediately went to visit their sister but even with the help of her admirer Hong Kong, nothing seemed to work. She was actually beginning to enjoy her time laying back and not working. It was none of her business anyways. When the companies complain, she’s not the one receiving all the complaints, it’s all up to Mother China. It was also nice, seeing her siblings one by one come by, obviously sent by their mother to attempt to beg her to get back to work. It was funny actually, she was usually the one begging not them. She finally felt happy and her heart began to soothe from the pain she was given by Mother China. However on the other side, Mother China was struggling. None of her children were able to fulfill her requests so the only other way was another meeting. She flew up to the round table once more, and knocked on the mahogany table. The children immediately gathered once more, with Dongguan walking in last. “Dongguan. I know you are trying to seek revenge, however you are going too far. You must stop. This is not only going to ruin your future to be like brother Hong Kong, but you’re also ruining the reputation of China, do you even know how long it took us to build that?” Mother China said in a soft yet aggressive voice. Mother China took a deep breath and let out a long and gentle sigh. “I know you all think like me and believe in me. Our dream together is to make China the best country. But do you think we will be able to do that with all this? This dream will never country! We have to work together!” Everybody began to talk at once, some disagreeing, some agreeing. Mother China closed her eyes and stood still. All the children began to quiet down. She opened her eyes and in front of her stood a bundle of sticks. She passed it around and said “Let me ask you children, do you think you will be able to break these sticks by yourself?” All the children tried, but no one seemed to even break half of the sticks, not even the might Foshan. Mother China then unravelled the piece of rope tying all the sticks together and passed out one each. “There you go, now try breaking the stick.” Everybody snapped their stick in half in just seconds. Mother China smiled. “See what I mean? Individually you can’t break the sticks, but together, when you split the work, you can succeed. Dongguan, I’m sorry for taking your business away and I understand you’re upset, but you cannot just abandon us, abandon the country. Even though you may not be one of the main cities which are known when spoken of China, but you make a great impact among us. Without you we cannot succeed to fulfill our dream. United we stand, divided we fall.” Dongguan stood there, suddenly feeling a pang of guilt within her. Even though her mother took everything away from her, she now understood that she still shouldn’t have done what did. It was bad, she caused great pain towards her mother and her siblings. She kneeled down and said in a quiet voice, “Please forgive me mother. I am sorry and I will reflect upon my wrong doings.” Mother China immediately

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walked over and lifted her back up. “Don’t worry about it, but promise me that from now on, you will help us and we will fulfill our dream together.”

--- As time went by, China became stronger than ever, soon becoming one of the top 3 most powerful countries in the world. Mother China smiled upon her children as they succeeded together. United they stood, divided they fell.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Island School, Cheung, Stephanie - 14, Fiction: Group 4

loud caw echoed through the moonlit sky, once, twice, then three times. The wind howled as an eagle emerged from the pool of clouds swimming around the moon, swooping down on magnificent wings as it pulled into a steep dive. It extended its sharp and unforgiving talons towards

the night below, squawking as it rushed towards a lonely, black shadow by the shore of the Pearl River - a mottled catfish that would tonight become the eagle’s meal. Amber eyes glinted in the darkness, and the eagle made its way towards the rushing water. With a frenzy of quick movements, it sunk its talons into the squirming fish, staining the water with wisps of crimson red. When the fish was drained of whatever life it had before, the eagle dragged the carcass up towards a few nearby rocks, nosing at the still body before starting to peck contentedly at it. When it had finished its tasty meal, the eagle spread its massive wings, eyes darting quickly around the still silence before rising into the cold air and disappearing into the night. And all that was left of the presence of the eagle was a small pile of polished bones and traces of vanishing red in the water.

—————

Night slowly turned to day as the red sun rose into the calm air. The wind had calmed, and was starting to breeze through the tall pines that stood high and proud, and the weeds that grew near the muddy riverbanks started to dance along too. The white clouds looked soft and fluffy, texture rivalling those of marshmallows, drifting through the splendid blue sky to wherever the wind took them. Little animals had come out, too. The forest was basked in streams of golden sunlight, and in the corner, fluttering around a rose, was a pair of butterflies out enjoying the morning. But a nightmare had yet to come. At that exact moment, a crackling started up, and a pungent smell, a smell of fire and burning and destruction, wafted through the forest into the area around.

—————

Fifty-three trees and seven clouds away, the sky was painted a deep shade of ruby red. Streams of orange and yellow ran across, seemingly setting all the clouds on fire, and the sun, which had been hanging from the sky a few moments ago, had long gone. Down below in the forest floor, a fiery inferno hissed and licked at all the dry tree trunks and plants. Sparkling and glowing embers leaped and twirled through the air, hanging like twinkling stars before dimming and cascading back to the ground. The fire was greedy, oh-so-greedy. It was a monster which devoured everything in its path feverishly with an unquenchable thirst. It would wound around blackened trees and plants, spitting orange at them before drawing back and carrying on its path. And it was merciless too. The fire left trails of destructions behind - smouldering paths and burned plants devoid of any life, carved out by deadly, flickering flames, seemingly unstoppable. And was it unstoppable? The fire was spreading so fast, bringing down tree after tree, and it seemed as though there was no hope for the land. After all, after this was all over, if it was all over, there would be no more place to call home, and no more food inside the forest. It would years after years for everything to

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return back to the way it was. Right now, the only thing left reminiscent of the land before was the same cool, flowing river and the few jagged rocks that lay nearby.

—————

“Mother, look, what’s that?” seven-year-old Cecelia pointed into the distance at wisps of faint grey smoke rising into the air. “Look!” Her mother, a tall, dark-haired lady, gasped loudly as she caught sight of the charred landscape, hand automatically flying up to her mouth to stifle the sound. “Mother?” Cecelia tilted her head questioningly, tugging at her mother’s arm, curiosity swimming in her eyes. Her mother shook her head, quivering in fear. She drew Cecelia closer to her, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulder as she let out a shaking breath. She was so afraid, so, so afraid of the black smoke and the ruined land and the - She took large, gasping breaths in an attempt to calm her shaking nerves. “Cecelia,” the mother started softly. “T-that’s… that’s a fire, something very, very dangerous. You must promise me that you won’t go anywhere near it, alright?” Cecelia pursed her lips dutifully at her mother’s tone, but nodded nonetheless. “I promise…” Her mother breathed a sigh of relief before hugging Cecelia tightly, a gesture that, she convinced herself, would keep her daughter from any harm’s way. Caw! Caw! Both mother and child spun backgrounds in surprise at the eagle that had swooped down from the sky onto the ground a few meters away in front of them. Cecelia’s surprise soon morphed into something different, something joyous - she clapped her hands together, mouth curving upwards as small bubbles of laughter erupted from her. “Mother, mother, look!” Her mother pushed Cecelia anxiously towards the direction they had come from. “Not now, Cecelia. It isn’t safe to stay here…” Cecelia didn’t budge. She was utterly captivated by the large bird in front of her. “But… it’s an eagle. I want to play with it.” Her mother sighed, glancing around her surroundings for any sign of immediate danger. “No, Cecelia, you can’t play with wild creatures like that. It’s dangerous. What if you get hurt?” Cecelia stamped her foot against the ground stubbornly. “But I want to play!” Her mother was resolute. “No. I’m sorry to have to say this, but no, you can’t. Now, come on, the sun’s going to go down if you keep this up.” Cecelia frowned, recognising this as her mother’s strict voice, something she often used when Cecelia had been bad.

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“But, mother… please!” she continued to beg, clasping her hands together and looking up at her mother with large eyes. “The eagle looks so pretty, and… and I’ve never seen one, too!” And as if the eagle had heard the young girl’s pleas, it hopped a few steps closer, cocking its head to the side and studying both figures with intelligent eyes. Cecelia gasped in amazement. “Look, mother, it just came closer to me!” She turned to look at her mother, a smug smile making its way onto her face. “I bet it heard me and came to me to play.” “Cecelia,” her mother started in a warning tone. “Come back here. It’s time to go.” Cecelia huffed angrily, ignoring her mother’s comment as she extended an arm out, inching closer to the bird for it to hop onto. “No, Cecelia!” Her mother screeched in alarm, rushing towards Cecelia and knocking her backwards just as the eagle took a few steps forward. The sudden sound startled the eagle, and it let out a screech of its own, flapping its wings threateningly before flying off into the distance. The mother turned to Cecelia angrily. “What were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt.” Cecelia huffed, ignoring her mother’s comment. “What do you know? I was doing perfectly fine, but then you had to come and ruin it all, no thank you to you.” A flash of hurt crossed her mother’s eyes, before quickly being replaced with more anger than before. “You never know about these birds! They’re wild! They’re unpredictable! Do you want what happened to your uncle to happen to you? I love you, Cecelia, you know that. Why do you always like making me worry about you?” Cecelia kept quiet for a while before looking up at her mother timidly. “Sorry… But… what happened to uncle?” Her mother sighed. “Well, I suppose I may as well tell you. It’s about time, anyway. You should know what happened to him after all these years…”

—————

“It had been raining in the village for over weeks. I woke up every morning to the same old bleak, foggy morning, until one day, I didn’t. “It was a quiet, peaceful day. The birds were chirping, singing songs to each other, and the wind was breezing by the flowers in the garden. It was absolutely magnificent. What could possibly go wrong on such a beautiful day?” “I left the house early that day. There was this air of mystery around the village. It was magical. There were also children jumping around excitedly outside, and the adults were chatting to each other with happy twinkles in their eyes. Your grandfather… he was a very strict man, but on that one day, he was smiling too. “I was happy too. I knew that something special was going to happen to the all of us. So I asked your uncle if he wanted to come play with me in the fields, because it was a wonderful day, and he, surprisingly, said yes.

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“When we got out into the fields, he proposed that we have a competition. I’d never had one with your uncle before, so of course, I said yes. I still remember him grinning at me so mischievously. “Out of the blue, there suddenly came these butterflies. Your uncle pointed at them, and said to me, “Let’s have a butterfly catching tournament. Whoever who catches the most butterflies will have the other treat them to a meal of their choice.” And then I said, “But wait, I don’t know how to catch butterflies!” “Your uncle smiled at me, and then cupped his palms, waiting a butterfly to land in them before gently enclosing it. That was the way, I think. He taught me it. “We had so much fun in the fields that morning, but then it all began to go downhill. “Your uncle had won the competition that day, because I had killed my first butterfly. I didn’t mean to kill it, of course, but some things can’t be helped. “I think that the butterflies are meant to symbolise good luck. At least, that’s what your grandfather believed and passed on to us. If you kill one, then bad luck will be passed onto you, or a close relative of yours. And that’s what exactly happened. “When we got back to the village, it started to rain once again. Everyone was disappointed. They had all been looking forward to a day of… magic, but it had all been ruined. “Then, all of a sudden, there was a loud crash of thunder, and a bright flash of lightning that lit the entire sky white. An eagle then swooped down towards us, talons extended, and… and…” “I-it was horrible. There was blood everywhere. Your uncle was screaming so loudly, so dreadfully. Your grandfather couldn’t do anything. Every time he tried to near the bird, it would hit him away with its powerful wings, and continue at what it was doing. “I don’t know how long it was before the bird finally left. He was still screaming… I could tell that he was in so, so much pain. Your grandfather grabbed him tightly, and then took him to the village healer… I thought that they could do anything, but I guess I was wrong. “She told us that there was no saving him. The infection had already set in, and we didn’t have the proper herbs at the time. He suffered a lot, but I think he was happy when he died. After all, who ever wants to live in pain? “It was my fault that your uncle died. If… if only I didn’t kill that butterfly, perhaps it wouldn’t have happened at all. I should have been more careful. It was my fault. “When I saw that eagle just now, I was so scared. I was reminded of the past, of what happened to your uncle. I guess I just didn’t want what happened to him to happen to you. You’re still young. You have your whole life ahead of you, but that could have all been ruined if that eagle had attacked you. Don’t you see, Cecelia? I care about you, a lot more than you think.”

—————

Cecelia looked up to her mother with wide eyes. “O-oh…” She bit her lip. “S-sorry, then.” If Cecelia had known about the story beforehand, then she would have never talked back to her mother. Her mother smiled warmly. “I-it’s okay, Cecelia. The past is in the past.” Cecelia reached up to hold her mother’s hand. “Shall we go, then?”

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Her mother nodded, eyes creased ever so slightly. “Alright then… You know what, I know this lovely place where you can see other birds… I can take you there tomorrow, but only if you promise you won’t try to do what you did today again.” Cecelia hummed softly. “I promise. Is it a pretty place?” “Shall I tell you about it? Well, it’s a place where all the grass grows green and tall, and all the birds fly together and sing together to each other…”

—————

Rrrrrrr. Rrrrrrr. The eagle nested its head into the dead bass fish, pecking at its prey contentedly. It was a brand new day, and the fire had miraculously gone out. Above in the sky, the sun was rising high up into the clouds, glowing with an otherworldly light. Although the landscape was still charred and blackened, a few birds had begun to flock in the sky and chirp happily to each other. And the eagle below - it was quietly observing its surroundings while finishing off its meal. And when it had finished, it spread its impressive wings, and with a loud caw, carried itself proudly into the air, flying off into the daylight. And all that was left of the presence of the eagle was a small pile of polished bones and traces of vanishing red in the water.

Fiction: Group 4

Stories of the Pearl River Delta Island School, Cummins, Amelia - 14, Fiction: Group 4

ong Kong, dubbed ‘Asia’s World City’, is a bustling business hub situated near China. It consists of a population of 6.96 million people and is one of the most densely populated places in the world. But beneath the mile-high buildings, steady stream of expats and million dollar handbags,

there lies a sea of culture. Hong Kong was under British rule for 150 years, before being given back to China in 1998. Overtime, the city has developed its own culture, its own society and its own expectations. Hong Kong is truly one of a kind. No matter how hard you look, you will never find a place like it, not Singapore, Kuala Lumpur or Shanghai. Once the city is gone, it will be gone forever. Hong Kong is a boiling pot of western and Asian influences. For every bowl of pasta sold, a pot of rice is bought. For every taxi ride taken, a sampan leaves the bay. The spread may not be equal, but Hong Kong is where East meets West. When you first land at Chek Lap Kok, Hong Kong seems like you’ve always been told. With all of the skyscrapers and designer shops, it appears as a land for the wealthy, business folk and their spoilt expatriate children wearing Armani and carrying with them their million-dollar bank accounts. You gaze at the young Filipino women caring for the screaming babies of the cities filthy rich residents and the young professionals hustling down the road, leaving straddles in their wake. It is a looking glass, peering intensely back at you with a look of distrust and dismay. However, all is not as it seems in this city of great depths. Asia’s World City is not only home to the fortunate, the wealthy, the lucky. You walk the streets and there is a woman kneeling on the street corner, begging the bee lining penguins to spare a mere few cents, and there maybe a man that lumbers up the litter-lined roads hunchbacked over a trolley full of cardboard. These are the forgotten few, hidden under the glitz and glamour of this financial hub. But they are not sparse. They do not struggle as a mini minority. 1 in 5 Hong Kong residents live in poverty, 100,000 people live in cage homes or coffins and 1 in 4 children do not get three meals a day. Hong Kong may be one of the greatest cities, but it also has the greatest income inequality in the entire world. Just because you can’t see it, it doesn’t mean its not there, hidden beneath the jumble of extravagant parties, million dollar bills and young professionals. Hong Kong is a happy, safe, welcoming society, but thousands of people slip through the cracks every day. The people in this hectic city are not the only treasures in the sea. There are buildings, largely out of Central District, that are not coated in sparking metal and lined with golden mirrors. There are buildings that stand where they stood eighty, ninety, one hundred years ago. There are buildings in ruins of peeling paint. There are bed-spaced apartments stacked one on top of the other, caging their owners in. All 53,200 occupants. There are temples that glisten green and red, providing sanctuary for those most in need. And there are, of course, gargantuan towers, spiralling, their tips scraping the sky. 1,233 skyscrapers salute the city, placing it at the top of world rankings. IFC. Bank of China. HSBC. Each and every one of those 1,233 buildings contribute to creating the Pearl River Deltas most ravishing scene: The Hong Kong skyline. But Hong Kong is not only a vertical city. It is not only a pretty face. Hong Kong, the Victoria Sponge of Asia. Sponge. The skyline. Jam. The people. Cream. The culture. Sponge. The money. And a sprinkle of strawberries. You will never run out of things to see in Asia’s World

City.

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Morning Sun Island School, Donoghue, Charlotte - 14, Fiction: Group 4

s the light of the early morning sun reflected off the glassy bodies of the skyscrapers on the other side of the dark, murky waters, a young lady wakes to the sound of her child’s tearless cries for attention. Her motherly instincts tell her to care for the baby, but she knows that her true love will

not wait for her. She can almost be with him, forever. She tiptoes to the windowsill, letting the warmth of the light touch her palely tannish skin, and reaches for her inexpensive, tattered low quality clutch that had clearly been fetched for a low price at Sham Shui Po. It immediately crossed her mind that she deserved better, and she confirmed her actions, knowing that only her true love would give her what she needed, not this broke, beggarly, worthless excuse for a husband that would willingly spend his every penny if it meant she could live another day… Tears fell from her eyes to the rhythm of the baby’s wails of despair. Clearing the blurring tears from her vision, the glimmering golden computerised chip on her identity card came into focus. The reason she suffered in this impoverished family, all for this shiny, thin card… it was originally in her plans that she would leave when she obtained it – the key to golden opportunities in the metropolis of Hong Kong. She and her child would live a happy life together, unlike the toughness she had to go through growing up in the mainland as a girl, she wanted this little darling to have the joyful childhood she never had. But it was high time she lived a happy life herself, she thought. It was painful to leave behind her own flesh and blood, but it was worth it, wasn’t it? Meeting this new man was in her destiny, he would take care of her, he would give her what she had always wanted. He was her one true love, her morning sun, the one that would make her feel warm inside. She turned away and prepared to leave – but her gaze met the googly-eyed expression of her helpless little baby. Choking back tears, she tried to sound as comforting as she could: “Don’t be afraid, my morning sun. One day, you will shine bright.” “Good morning, sunshine.” The baby, now grown into a young girl woke up to the unfamiliar sound of her father’s voice. Her name was Sun-hei, or ‘light of the early morning sun’ in the local language Cantonese; her dad wasn’t just calling her ‘sunshine’ as a pet name. Another of her nicknames was Summer, a name that not only fit her bold, bright personality, but matched the meaning of their family name, Ha. Summer mentally questioned why her father was beside her. He was always long gone when she opened her eyes: even during the weekends he would work multiple jobs, only having a wink of sleep in-between. Sometimes she would feel upset that he never seemed to be by her side, but she understood that it was the best for the both of them – her father had always been a poor man, and he had put every cent he could find into raising her. Nothing could please her more than the fact that she finally had the chance to see him, even though she knew it was selfish to take even a fragment of his precious time… so she should enjoy every moment of it. There was no time to feel guilty. She pushed the paper-thin sheet that barely covered her away and reached out – “Daddy!” she exclaimed before he engulfed her with the warmth of a loving hug. Her father smiled wholeheartedly, though not as enthusiastically as his daughter’s ear-to ear grin that lit up her entire face. “Daddy knows it’s your birthday today, so I took a few hours off work to be here with you,” he said, placing her small hands within his sweaty palms. His eye-bags and dark circles made it seem as if he had been in a fight, he had been, in a way: fighting tiredness whilst working the night shift. “I’ll give you a gift. What do you want?” Summer shook her head, wiping liquid happiness from her eyes: “You being here is the best present in the world, Daddy.” A gecko made its way across the mouldy tiles of the cracked ground. The building was falling apart: they knew that someday, they’d fall straight through the floor. Summer held the gecko in her hands. She never quite understood why the adorable, helpful creatures that often roamed in the common space between the ‘rooms’ in her building disgusted her classmates. The gecko devours a mosquito, and both Summer and her father let out giggles of laughter. These were the golden moments of bliss that other people were too distracted by technology to notice.

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“I had a strange dream last night.” Summer abruptly whimpers. Joy becomes silence. “I saw a woman. I think it was Mummy.” Her father’s loving gaze transformed into a piercing glare. “Your mother is gone,” he said in a low voice. Soft, yet threatening. The gecko leaped onto the ground and scurried away. “I’m going to work.” Summer retreated to her wooden ‘room’ to ponder the mysteries of life on a metal frame. It was on the last day of school that Summer got the bad news. “He was a great man,” the colleagues, neighbours and old classmates whispered around her, “if only he didn’t work so hard.” They didn’t know how tragic reality was: he could watch himself and his daughter starve to death or he could work until he couldn’t move anymore just to extend her lifespan. He lived his last days in pain for her. He made the sacrifice, for her. She wailed, just like she did the final time she heard her mother’s voice. She wailed, as if the tears would wash away her sorrow, her problems, her fear. Summer closed up like a clamshell on the ferry to the home of the relatives she never knew she had. “Do you want some candy?” Auntie Yuki asked a friendly, almost childish tone. Living in Macau was no excuse for a Hongkonger to not have a peculiar name, it seemed. “No, I’m fine, thank you.” came the reply. “Do you want to play with your cousin Sebastian?” she persisted, once again trying to sound as unthreatening as she could. Summer responded with silence, almost as if she was considering to break out of her self-constructed prison – but she obviously wasn’t going to. “No. Please just leave me alone.” she eventually spat. “Do you miss your Mummy and Daddy?” her aunt pestered in a genuinely caring tone, oblivious to the fact that Summer evidently did not want to be talked to. “My mother is gone and my father is dead,” she yelled aggressively, building a castle of anger around her to disguise her teardrops. “Wow, isn’t she a lioness.” Sebastian joked. Uncle Ronald stabbed him on the shoulder with his finger and glared at him warningly. “We know, and we’re just here to help, honey.” Auntie Yuki smiled brightly, sincerely and innocently, as if the entire world was built out of rainbows. Summer wouldn’t budge from her cage of refusal, perhaps she was too used to living in confined spaces. To Summer, her aunt’s cave of 500 square feet was more like a palace. “I’m sorry if there isn’t much space…” Summer took her words as a joke. She couldn’t imagine how anyone would find this mansion small. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that most people hadn’t been living in a wooden box for over twelve years. She was in awe at the clean, cool marble beneath her feet, the crystal-clear, un-pixelated movement on the high-definition television screen, the magnificent, prismatic chandelier that hung gracefully above her head, not just a bare flickering light-bulb that dangled dangerously from the ceiling! “Wah!” Summer finally managed. “Amazing! How many jobs do you have to work to live in a place like this?” Auntie Yuki blinked. She’d never been asked a question like that before. “Well, you see, our jobs are a bit different, and my pay… well… we get paid quite a lot more than…” she lowered her voice, “all your dad’s jobs added together…” Summer stood with the same expression of disbelief on her face. “Wah,” she exclaimed again. The next day Auntie Yuki and her husband took Summer and her cousin out for a stroll down Rua do Cunha to fetch up some traditional snacks. “People give out so many free samples here,” Sebastian mumbled through a mouthful of almond cake and phoenix egg roll, “you won’t even need to have dinner tonight.” But Summer clearly didn’t feel like joking around – all the colour had been drained from her skin, and her lifeless shambling made it seem as if her soul had left her body. “Auntie Yuki, Uncle Ronald…” she began, looking up to the clear, blue sky. It was quite rare that the clouds were distinguishable from the grey puffs of pollution above the Zhu Saam Gok region – the Pearl River Delta. “What is it, sweetie?” replied the aunt, taking her hand. “Actually, you know what, never mind.” the little girl put on her best smile, though sorrow still shone through her eyes. “Are you sure you’re all right, my sunshine?” asked Uncle Ronald. And she finally snapped. “Only my father can call me that. I am his morning sun, not yours!” she barked like a mad dog, storming away towards the unknown. “Hey there, Sunny. What’ya looking at?” Summer turned around to find she was face to face with her cheeky teenage cousin. “Go away, Sebastian” she snapped through gritted teeth. “Oh alright, I’ll just leave you here and you won’t be able to find your way home, because to you, this is the middle of nowhere,

Fiction: Group 4

whereas I have an entire map of this place in my mind.” He pointed to his head playfully. “I’m not in the mood to mess with you, little boy. Do you even know how I feel?” she hid her sobs behind her assertive attitude. “For the record, I’m three years older than you, little girl.” Summer rolled her reddened eyes. “And you think I don’t understand?” Sebastian continued, unexpectedly shifting into a serious tone, “My parents have been dead for longer than you have lived.” He rolled up his sleeves, revealing a long vertical scar on his upper arm. “You wanna know how I got this? I lived in an orphanage for most of my childhood. Wasn’t lucky enough to get into one of the good ones; the conditions were worse there than anywhere you could imagine. At least you had a father to look after you. I was always suffering just because I was the weakest.” By now, tears were silently rolling down his cheeks as well. Summer turned towards him and looked at him with her puffy eyes. “I’m sorry, I never knew. I thought you had been living happily with Auntie and Uncle and were just an arrogant little rich-kid who thinks that everything in life is free.” Sebastian demolished all traces of seriousness in their conversation with his laughter; apparently Summer’s first impression of him was absolutely hilarious. When he had finally calmed down, he put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll help you get through this. Let’s go home.” The sun was going down and their dark shadows materialised on the pavement. Suddenly, a grin begins to dance across his face. “So, can I call you Sunny or not?” Summer nudged him hard in the side with her fist. “I know you’re a nice guy, but don’t cross the line. You’re well aware of what you shouldn’t say.” Another week into the holidays Sebastian brought a handful of rowdy, sweaty monkeys to join him in his addiction to pointless button-pressing on hand-held consoles. “Summer, meet Joseph, Ah Wai, Tim and Eddy.” The filthy pigs reminded her of some of her late father’s co-workers at the construction site. “Wah,” hissed one of them. “Lei tiu leng lui bein goh ley ga?” Who’s this ‘hot chick’, he blurted in slang whilst leering at Summer, who instantaneously shifted her vision in the other direction. “Don’t even think about it, she’s my cousin.” Sebastian warned, “you’re here to play video games, not to flirt.” The young men cackled in unison like a choir of farm animals. “Cousin? We’re ‘hing dai’” ‘Brothers’. “Having known you for so long we all know for a fact that you never had a cousin. More like your girlfriend, huh? Huh?” Sebastian strode out the front door and gestured for them to follow: “I don’t feel like ‘hanging out’ with you little swines anymore. I’m going for a walk with my cousin” he spoke calmly, emphasising their cousinly relationship as if he was poking fun at his self-proclaimed ‘brothers’; “Now can you please kindly get out of my house.” The situation was so amusing that Summer couldn’t resist a giggle, which lead to an unnecessary explosion of excitement amongst the family members about her finally not acting so depressed… and hostile. By the last week of the term break Summer had finally seemed to have warmed up to her once-distant relatives. Auntie Yuki had made some delicious Yeung Chow Chau Fan, a spectacular fried rice dish invented in the Qing dynasty by Yi Bingshou, who was once the regional magistrate of the eponymous region. They sat mesmerised by the moving figures on the screen before them, eating in silence save for the chattering from the speakers of the device and the constant scraping of rice from the surface of their ceramic bowls. Eventually, Summer makes the decision to speak: “Auntie Yuki, Uncle Ronald, you remember the time when we were walking down Rua do Cunha? When I wanted to ask you a question? It wouldn’t come out then, but I want to ask it now.” Auntie Yuki embraced her niece passionately. “You can share anything with us, sweetie. We’re family, remember?” Summer nodded with a small smile, small, but still slightly visible. “You know, I’ve felt happiness here with you, in all the luxury of this brand new life… but if you had all this ability, why did you never help us? Why did you never give us the assistance we needed when my father was battling poverty on the war-field of the workplace?” Summer released her fragile side once again through the tears that kept running from her eyes. Uncle Ronald opened his mouth to speak, but his wife gestured to show that it would be better if she dealt with the matter. “Sun-hei, listen, okay?” Now that she was being addressed with her birth name, Summer suddenly didn’t know what to expect. “I wasn’t always the successful woman you see today. Our childhood was also very dismal; our parents were so poor that they had to put me up for adoption, as they knew they couldn’t raise us both. I was lucky that a middle class family decided to take me home, and that’s why my life ended up so

Fiction: Group 4

much better than his. I’ve been looking for your father since… but it was just so unfortunate that the first thing I heard about my brother was the news of his death.” The woman was always so optimistic and happy; it was awfully unsettling to see her cry, and soon, the entire house was enveloped in melancholiness. Everyone was a dark cloud, and rain began falling. It wasn’t long before they were drowning in an ocean of salty eye-water. “We all feel terribly bad that you had such bad conditions throughout your childhood.” Uncle Ronald finally added, “We would do anything to make the rest of your life a happy time.” “It’s okay. You’ve all made me feel so loved, it’s almost as if you were my new parents…” Summer paused. “My mother. I wonder where she is. What she’s doing now. How she’s living life. If she’s living life.” The light of the evening sun reflected off the glassy bodies of the skyscrapers on the other side of the dark, murky waters. “Now that she isn’t part of our lives, it’s anybody’s guess. Maybe she’s found her morning sun, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’ve found ours, the one that makes us feel warm inside. Ha Sun-Hei, the light of the early morning sun in the summer, you will be the one to light up our lives.” Tomorrow is a new day. And the morning sun will shine bright.

Fiction: Group 4

The Pearl River Delta Island School, Ebrahim, Ammar - 14, Fiction: Group 4

lay back on the old cherry blossom tree. My feet lay dipped in the cold green water. I hadn’t caught a single fish for the past four hours I was starving It would be lunchtime soon. The thought of food made my stomach rumble. But the sky was a lighter shade of blue today. Something special was going to

happen. To my surprise just a few meters away from me I noticed a unusually large fish. I couldn't miss this opportunity it was potential food for the entire week! I stuffed the fish into a dusty old sack I found somewhere among the garbage and dragged the beast home. My home wasn't one of those typical Chinese homes you would imagine. To me my home was a bunch of ruins of random objects I managed to find and put together. At least it gave me shelter. I dug into the fish throwing out the inedible parts. Soon after I had the largest meal I would have for months I found myself falling into deep sleep. By the time I woke up I could tell it was already sunset. But I found my senses to be awakened. So much it started to hurt. I could hear everything from the tiny movements of worms to the huge mechanical sounds of tractors miles away. I lay there clutching my head and groaning. When I woke up again I wasn’t greeted by the scenery or the birds chirping I was normally used to. I found my hands and legs contained with aluminum. It was imperfect. But how did I know that? I lay there trying to slip out. When I noticed a large man in a lab coat. He had a military style haircut and a neatly trimmed beard. He was sweating and panting as if he had ran down fifty flights of stairs. Or maybe he had as I heard about two hundred and fifty thumps of his feet. “Hello Wing. My name is Is Mr Lee. Or you can call me Bruce.” Wait Bruce Lee isn't he supposed to be dead? And what am I doing here in the middle of nowhere with Bruce Lee? “Yes I know I am the Bruce Lee, I have been observing you ever since you ate that fish yesterday, it contains tox. a very dangerous chemical. It has baffled me about how you must have survived. The last person who I’ve encountered with tox died within two hours.” Hearing all this had me surprised. I just lay there for a few seconds letting all the information get to my brain. So I was expecting it to just be another normal day working as usual. When I suddenly found a big fish and became infected with some dangerous chemical? Come on this isn't fair! Over the next few days Mr Lee and I tested my curse to see what I could do with it as it seemed to be stuck with me for a long long time. The weather grew cold and wild and I thought this was a sign that we should give up our search. But we pursued and to my surprise we found the antidote. I had never been happier. He injected me with the serum and within a few seconds I felt calm engulf me. He was still monitoring me for a few days after the injection, in my own home as I preferred it there. Today was the day I decided that I was probably going to have this curse for my whole life. Yeah I really should stop saying that. In fact it is a gift. My gift will help me get revenge and justice for the people who live in the Pearl River Delta. So that none of them have to end up like me. And I will. This is my mission.

I

Fiction: Group 4

A Greater Treasure Island School, Gaultney, Lindie - 14, Fiction: Group 4

acts: - Since December 2004 HK and other cities found in the Pearl River Delta are interconnected through subways and rails.

- The Pearl River Delta is one of Chinas leading economic regions and major manufacturing center - By train it takes 2 hours to go from Guangzhou to Hong kong - The Pearl River Delta is becoming a more popular destination Use legend of the pearl

In the middle of the Guangzhou river sits a gigantic stone island, gradually washed and eroded by the water that the stone became slick and smooth like the shape of a pearl

Third longest river in China A Greater Treasure I had always wanted to see the shiny pearl of the river. The one my ancestors told me about. The thing that only the most successful and humble people were allowed to see. The treasure so precious that the dragon of the water curled it up every night like a new born threatening to send storms if challenged. It was my dream place. Something I had hoped for ever since I was a little child. Odd you might think, but to me it was the epitome of adventure and beauty. A key to my somewhat lost heritage. I dreamt of the salty air blowing against my long black hair, the waves silently lapping against the rock and my thin, pale teenage body resting on the very top of the pearl in the most supreme and important spot. The moon would be full and awake with light, fish dancing and playing in the dark mysterious waters. The industrial cranes have stopped their work for the day and the only people in sight are the old fishermen making their way in for the night - their paddles swooping and swaying as if singing a tune. They told me it wouldn’t be an easy journey. I would have to travel day and night by boat past the monsters of the sea. In my way stood many obstacles, that’s why I had started planning ever since I was seven. The plan started off rough and rigid as to be expected, but later began to gain depth and complexity as I learnt more about the dark secrets of the river. I learnt not only that it’s the third largest river in China, but that it is also full of legends and mysteries. One of these tales described a stone island in the Guangzhou region of the river. Legend has it that the waves washed and eroded the stone making the stone slick and smooth like the shape of a pearl. This is how the name for the river is said to have originated. That is the treasure I wish to find. I imagined the joy I would feel when I finally saw the towering structure, strong and prominent in its place. Quite large for a treasure one might think, but to me it would be a piece to the missing puzzle of my heritage, a memory that not even the most powerful man could take away from me, something I could treasure forever. This is my story. The time had come for me to go to secondary school. It was the last week of summer and I had spent it in my room huddled over my Chinese history book sucking in all the information I could get. You see the thing is I was born originally in Guangzhou in the Pearl River Delta Region. A few months after I was born I was sent away to an orphanage in which I grew up until I was four years old when my adoptive parents came for me. I was never told exactly why my parents gave me up, but rather was told an array of white lies every time the subject was brought up. Anyways this is beside the point so I was in my bedroom just minding my own business when I heard my adoptive parents arguing in the room next to mine. They kept

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Fiction: Group 4

switching languages from English to French and back, making it hard to gather what they were saying or what was causing them to get into an argument. Then I heard the words. Quiet and muffled, but unmistakable. Guangzhou. My heart started beating irregularly. Palpitating. What could this possibly mean? Would I finally get the chance to go to the place of my dreams.... What if they are sending me back? My mind raced with an endless list of possibilities making my head feel heavy and numb. Then the voices stopped and that’s when the footsteps started growing louder by the second echoing the closer they got to my door. The door opened revealing the two familiar faces of my ‘parents’, their faces showing little emotion, “We need to talk”. I fumbled my fingers nervously as they sat on the bedside. Then Charlotte (my adoptive mother) said “Pierre and I have been thinking... We think it’s time you explore your roots a bit more... get to know your past life a bit..”. “What do you mean?” is all I managed to squeeze out. “We are taking you to Guangzhou”,Pierre replied. That’s when it all became too much. My vision became spotty and the world around me seemed to give way. Thump. Darkness everywhere, but then a light appeared, one that welcomed me into its warm rays. The light woke me up. “Kim? Kim?” ,were the first words I heard spoken with fear. “Are you all right?” I mumbled as I tried to gain sense of my surroundings. Shock was the first thing that hit me. I was really going to do this; I was going to go the place I had longed to go to ever since I had left. My adventure was just about to start. That’s how I ended up here. In the Pearl River region six months later. We had just arrived to the docks where we rented a small fishing boat that would take us on our adventure along the river, an adventure that was far simpler than I had ever planned or imagined. I hoped to myself that this might be the time I see the treasure long sought after. It was a peaceful journey as we sailed into the night sky, the moon began to peek out as if to say hello. Its brilliant white beams reflected in the deep water and then... It was just as I had imagined: the fish danced happily in the water, the water was as mysterious as could be and the fishermen made their way home. All except one. From a distance you could make out it was a middle-aged women. She stood silently on her boat, paddle in hand staring at something I couldn’t quite see. It wasn’t until we got closer that I realized she was staring at the pearl. Our boats collided gently for a minute, but strong enough to make her turn. She turned and looked towards us, first to my adoptive parents then back onto me where she held her gaze for a while. Confused and slightly shocked. She whispered under the sounds of the wind and I could just make out the words “Kim”.

Fiction: Group 4

The Mysterious Traveler Island School, Herrmann, Anja-Oceane - 14, Fiction: Group 4

he mysterious traveler is what they called him. A young man sailing in his small boat down the pearl river, passing the British factories. His murky ink blue robe covering scars like stains on rugged skin. His face hidden by a straw hat. His identity: concealed.

He traveled at the dead of night when the ghostly moon lay high in a sky of unseen stars. Clouds of coal that sometimes covered the last of the luminous light like dark spirits that lurked at doorsteps. But the traveler showed no fear to ghosts nor spirits as he pushed on through the lick of mud waves upon the fragile boat. His lit lantern guided him through the long lasting gloom. On both sides of the wooden boat is the dock, where the snores of sleeping villagers would slip through locked doors. Or sometimes they’d be awake, their windows glowing like a tiny sun that surged through the drowning dark outside their walls. And at this late hour, some would read, some would gaze out to the river, where the mysterious traveler swiftly sailed. Or sometimes, not a person would lean against the glass windows, but a silver smoke that flowed out into night air, stinging your nose with its foul scent. A deadly scent. A scent that can corrupt your body, your soul, gradually put your life to sleep. Eternally. A scent, known to all that settle here and smoke it. Opium. Every man and woman smokes it. Their minds, their bodies. Slowly dying. Their soul sooner or later. Gone. Their children, only waiting for the discovery of opium. The taste, the feel. The curiosity only to grow stronger. The eagerness to be older, to reveal why all adults smoke it, to be one of them. Yet there are few who resist it. And one is the man that sails his fragile boat down the river at this late hour. The Mysterious Traveler. He is seen each night by villagers that awake and stand by the window, the candle light flickering beside them. Rumors of him rippled through the village like a stone dropped in silent water, the ripples spreading. Some say he is a ghost, a spirit. Others thought he was human, here to make business. Some stay quiet. Most feared him. It was a never ending echo, the gossips. The man began to be known as something more “A freak, A monster, A ghost….A mystery” Like those words belonged to a voice in your head telling you what you really were. He accepted it. He continued to sail through the river. But tonight will be different. A large ship is sleeping by the docks. Its vast masts, its sails tower above him. A ship, filled with a deadly substance. Opium. For the first time, the traveler stared up above him. A flag mixed with scarlet and deep dim blue, waving in the air and shining in the moonlight. Like packs of wolves that proudly howl under the celestial moon. The traveler cringed at the sight of it, bile rising at the back of his throat. He snarled in hate. Eagerness of his one addiction: Revenge. Revenge for the Opium they sold and the life of his loved one. Taken. To Eternal sleep. This he could never except. Because the people thought wrong, he is not filled with mystery.

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Fiction: Group 4

But with blood pumping bitterness, filled with fire traveling through his motivated body. Infecting him. Destroying him. His addiction, to only grow stronger. Revenge is what he is living for. On the side of the ship, voices of British sailors could be heard and the sound of boxes of opium being dropped. The fire within raged more through the traveller as he made for the hung lantern that guided him for so long through the river. Through the darkness of night. And now, he will use that tiny candle for a flame, for a fire, the same fire that was surging through him at this moment. And as his hand closed around the candle like a wounded bird. He turned to the large ship sitting next to his own boat and allowed the flame to lick the wooden edges. To let it burn. To let it drown. To let it kill. And put the lives of those sailors to sleep. Eternally. The ship soon became a roaring bonfire, as the traveller watched it burn as the scorching flames reached to the starless, naked sky. The screams of the sailors, the fear, the shock. And the mysterious traveller observed in pleasure. His menacing smile stretched across his cheeks. Oh, how he could burst out laughing as the sailors skin turned rough into sand paper, into globs, the skin, the pus, the blood oozing out. The boiled blood. Their body’s falling and the raging blaze collapsing over bodies of ash. Bodies of sailors. All of the bodies. The ship was slowly sinking down as villagers awoke from the horrifying screams. Screams of terror and shock echoing the air. And the traveller did not care. Villagers were frantic. His work was Done. Villagers running around. He accepted it. Villagers Shouting. And he continued to sail through the river. Villagers did not see the Traveller. The mysterious traveller. The freak, the monster, the ghost….the mystery” The mysterious traveller. Never to be seen again.

Fiction: Group 4

The Last Prey Island School, Karabassian, Melodie - 14, Fiction: Group 4

look up at the sky and watch the majestic Black Kite soar across the Pearl River in search for a prey. Something it can take home for its chicks to feast on. It always appears at the crack of dawn, before anyone is awake, before the machines begin their day. By the time the town has awoken, the bird has

already flown away and out of sight, making sure its presence is a mystery. Here one minute and the next you are left isolated, the bird now just a happy memory in the minds of those whom were lucky enough to watch it fly. In the murky brown water, a fish floats on the surface of the river, yet another life taken from the deadly river. For many, this river is people’s lifeblood; a place where they make an income, to feed their children, to support their family. People have built their entire lives around the river, my family being one of them. Many come and go, but we stay day and night, dealing with whatever comes our way. The way the river water would change from one colour to the next, the churning sound of factory machines radiating through the village, the sound of footsteps of the factory workers as they enter their workspace in the early morning, he loved it all. He always had a vision for the future; someday our village would join the surrounding of the area and become an urban place. As well as the other subjects any student is forced to learn, we have our cultural lessons. This is the class in which the teachers and their fellow colleagues don’t stop informing us that we are extremely fortunate to be one of many residents in the Pearl River Delta. They just tell us facts after facts hoping one of them will spring some interest in our minds. For example, if I just so happened to be in Guangzhou and had the need to go to Hong Kong, it would only take 2 hours by train or the fact that the Pearl River Delta is home to the largest shopping centre. Once one of the chemistry teachers, Ms. Lin, came in and told us she would be replacing our old teacher and was to be teaching us permanently. The way she talked about the delta with such passion fascinated me, her eyes lit up when she talked about the upcoming sea bridge being built right across the Pearl River. She mentioned that this particular bridge was going to break a record of being the largest sea bridge in the world and we only have to wait a couple years till it is opened in 2016. But after a while, her eyes started to droop a bit, her smile was gone and replaced with a frown and creases formed on her forehead, as she started talking again her voice was much quieter, like a whisper and slightly shaky. I remember her saying these exact words “The Pearl River is surrounded with amazing things we are lucky to have, but unfortunately the river itself is not as lucky.” As with any child in that classroom, I was confused. There has never been anything said claiming the river was ‘troubled’. At that moment the bell rang and the footsteps of the children leaving school could already be heard, as the children stuffed their school bags with their books in a hurry to leave, I did so very slowly until every single one was out apart from me. I walked slowly towards the teacher’s desk as she was wiping away on the chalkboard. “What do you mean by the river not being lucky?” I questioned as her back faced me. She turned around and smiled and just told me, “Some things have to be kept a secret, all for good things”. I nodded and headed to the door, but as I held out my hand to reach the handle, she called my name and handed me a folded piece of paper and left it at that. As I was folding my school uniform before I went to bed, I heard a crinkling sound from the pocket of my skirt. I reached in the pocket and took it out, sitting on my bed, I unraveled it to find that it was a newspaper article; the headlines read ‘Samples from the wastewaters of factories across the Pearl River Delta prove that water contains high level of hazardous chemicals’. The day after, Ms. Lin wasn’t teaching our cultural class and neither the day after that or any other day, no one knew why.

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Fiction: Group 4

The day before everything started, we were coming back from school, with our backpacks on our backs weighing us down. We were walking by the river on the muddy road, following the footsteps created in the mud by all residents of the area, when something flashing on the surface of the river caught the corner of my eye. I turned around to observe the object, but it was nowhere to be seen, and most likely a figment of my imagination, so I turn my head to face forward. But I can still see him looking at the river with a look of content. When I came near to our house, I could see my father through the crack of the open window, taking coat off of his exhausted body and removing his fluorescent yellow boots. He had a disappointment and troubled look on his face that began to worry me. My mother came close and asked a question with a look of worry on her face, I couldn’t tell what she said, but my dad just answered with a shake of a head and left it at that. As I entered the house, both were silent all at once and greeted us both with wide smiles. I didn’t ask them what was wrong because I didn’t want them to become upset once more. I didn’t ask because deep down I felt there was no point in asking a question that wouldn’t be answered. Everything was quiet during dinner, everybody busying themselves by consuming the food. Nothing new was brought up to converse about, just the usual “How was the school?” and “What did you learn today?”. But to me something felt different; we didn’t have nearly as much food as we usually did. Although our family never was wealthy, but the house was always rich in the smell created by whatever my mother was cooking. The dining table filled with bowls of rice and noodles and fish and dumplings. Today we only had a couple of bowls of rice and noodles from the night before. I think everyone knew it or at least felt a difference, but no one would dare speak his or her minds. I focused on the light bulb in the hopes that it would make me fall asleep, but in reality I was just listening to my parent’s conversation coming from their room. “I got nothing, not even a single small fish. The river is intoxicating every being that lives in it. It was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen, all the fish were replaced with waste coming from the new factory” “What will we do when they build the other factory right on the river?” “Well, then we might have to go, there is no way we can make a living here” The next morning was all a blur, but I can remember every haunting second of the afternoon, of when I was chasing him home, with our screams of joy reverberating through the woods, until it was just me who was yelling, which made me slow to a jog as I realized my brother is nowhere to be seen. I swing my head side to side searching for him; he was always better at me at hide and seek because of his petite figure. A body lies on the top of the water floating lifelessly; at first I think it must be another dead fish. I take a step closer and see his jacket floating on the edge of the water. A frightening thought comes to mind and panic arose in my body paralyzing me. I just stare. My mind is shrieking at me, but it comes to no use as my mind is just instructing actions to a statue. My body became one big piece of rock screaming inside to move, but whatever I did I just couldn’t move my body. I knew I had to go after him and started running, but my legs couldn’t move and neither could my arms, I opened my mouth to yell his name, but nothing came out. After a while of just staring, my body now made of rock crumpled at last and I screamed. I don’t recall when I stopped, but my whole body was shaking vigorously. I do remember seeing a fishing boat come asking me what it was, but I kept screaming and pointing to the direction the body was washed to. They sailed to the body and somehow got him out, but it was already too late. The reports said he died because he couldn’t swim, but he was always an amazing swimmer. But if the truth was told, it would say it was from the polluted water that dragged him down under to his death, he was seen trying to inhale, but a plastic bag got caught in his mouth suffocating him. A few years ago, the same thing happened to a young girl only a couple years younger than my brother, they said she drowned because she couldn’t swim and it was entirely the fault of the parents, so we believed in it all and let them fill our minds with these lies. It has been a year since he died and the loss of a child has left my parents in a limbo between continuing and going to join my brother. People came everyday in the beginning to try to soothe us and ease the pain, but every time they came they realized it had no effect, so one by one they each left and never came back. The

Fiction: Group 4

pain is so visible internally and externally. One look at my mother and you can see the pain she has been through. In her eyes, you can see a ghost of a smile, wrinkles have formed making her face look like a crinkled piece of paper, and her skin and flesh draped over her bony frame. Her actions are without emotions or feelings; she does things because she has to. Her mind is just a mechanism just giving orders to an unconscious body. My father seems much stronger, but I know he does it just for us. My father is much like a tree standing tall, secure and healthy, but the storms that have hit him have hollowed him inside with heartache, any minute you fear he will snap and fall when the winds come. My parents would spend days not eating, though we never had much to eat anyways. It has been a year and it has only brought a flow of cutbacks for our lives, which is part of the reason why we are here now… at the train station. With our suitcases packed with whatever we could fit from our lives, we stand in the line waiting to buy a set of three train tickets. Now for the government we are the perfect sized family. Every corner, every bend of the river, memories are wind back. The pain is like adding salt to an open wound. These are our tickets to a new life, some place where we have no past, somewhere in which memories don’t haunt us at every corner. To those visiting, they see our village and its inhabitants as many others, but for those living here they don’t just see an abandoned house, they see themselves and their friends peeking through the door trying to see what is inside, they see themselves playing in front of the door, they see their family dressed in their nicest gowns walking past to go to a their grandparents house for Chinese New Year, they see their loved ones and love fills their heart-warming them inside. Every building reminds me of Tin Wa riding his new bike through the alleys, when we would walk through the alleys and giggle at the sight of someone’s underwear hanging from the clothing lines above, or when he would save his pocket money to buy an egg waffle from the old man’s shop next to the factory. As the train departs, I can see the streetlights reflecting in the river creating a glistening image and the raindrops creating millions of tiny ripples on the surface of the water, I can see a middle aged man with a woven basket on his back riding his bicycle home, I can see our little village, the silence of the streets is so visible, I see our house with my brother’s bedroom light still on. I leave with these sights to another part of the Pearl River Delta, somewhere this river is all too familiar with, the city side.

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The Daughter Island School, Khan, Rafa - 14, Fiction: Group 4

ost. Nothing but trees and wildlife surrounding me, no signs of civilization, no signs of people. There is river that extended out to the sunset, showing no sign ending and seemed to go on forever. I sat down on the edge of the river, with my bare feet splashing against the water. The coldness was like

frozen daggers penetrating my skin, making me more aware of my surroundings and sending a tingling sensation down my spine. Small fish, bright blue and yellow, graze and peck at my feet. I try and hold back a laugh as to not scare off the fish, the tickling becomes too much as I let out a small giggle and the movement manages to scare of all the fish and the river becomes calm again.

I hear a splashing noise in the distance and see a long wooden fisherman’s boat in the distance. The gentle waves of the river caress the bottom of the boat like a mother holding her child for the first time. As the boat approaches the river banks I see the person manning the boat is a sixty-something year old man with so many wrinkles and smile lines around his eyes, nose and mouth, reminding me of growth rings on the bark of a tree.

The fisherman comes up to me and extends his hand, after a couple of formalities he asks me where I was headed and I begin rambling on about coming out here to open my soul to the world when he cut me off and invited me on the boat. Weighing the possibilities out, I decided that he meant no harm and went on. He offered me tea and sat me down on a cushion as he began preparing lunch.

I asked him what brought him here while he was handing me a bowl of boiling hot soup. However, he didn’t reply and instead asked how long I was in the area for and as I told him that I was only here for a day or two more before heading back to the city, he became very curious about the wet markets back at home. Whether the fish and greens there were being sold well or not. While I was telling him how there weren’t that many stalls selling seafood lately, I noticed his eyes clouded up. He let out a sigh and slowly began to tell me how his daughter stopped wiring him money a couple of months ago and he’s had to get by on his own ever since.

He was making his living from selling fish and crops but the land is no longer fertile and the water no longer fresh making it difficult to make a living. The fisherman described his story of how his daughter moved to Hong Kong and new came back with tears in his eyes and a crack in his voice. I decided to open up to him about how I, after moving out, cut most contact with my own parents save the odd birthday card or so. He stared at me for a long time, too long in fact it made the hairs on my arm prickle and stand at edge and my eyes dart from one side of the boat to the other, unable to match the fisherman’s uncomfortable gaze. He asked me whether I thought they were good parents to me as an adolescent and I confessed that they did make me happy although we weren’t awfully close. I felt a sense of nostalgia for my parents and understood how the fisherman must be feeling but I let him tell me anyway that I should talk to parents, its the least I can do considering that they did so much for me.

As night was quickly falling upon the unsuspecting sky, a heavy feeling was settling on top of me as well. I took my time answering the fisherman and instead went to the very edge of the boat and watch the different colors of the sunset. A golden-orange sun barely still above the horizon with its light skewed among the clouds, some violet, some orange, some red, all vibrant and very much alive. It was as if I was watching a ballet of calm in the sky and all my bad feelings were replaced by a much nicer feeling of calm as if nothing bad could ever come of me, as if I was invincible. I remembered the times I ran around the living room of my parent’s house, skirting through my mother and father’s legs pretending to be a superhero with a tea towel knotted on the back of my shirt acting as my cape. I resolved to keep in contact with my parents more often, maybe even move in with them for a month or two, after all they were getting old and I am the only person they have.

The boat had not drifted too far from shore and I asked the fisherman kindly yet firmly if we could go back to the river banks for if I was to make my way back to the hotel, to begin my journey home, before sunrise I would have to make a move now. Sensing the urgency in my voice, he did so without any questions or

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complaints. I felt a rush of adrenaline after the talk given to me by the fisherman about gratitude and forgiveness and I truly believed, for the first time in my life, that what goes around comes around and although everyone speaks of bad karma, good karma is what really matters and even though exploring is great and all, I can in fact open up my heart from my own childhood bedroom. So after a series of thank you’s and hugs and take cares, I set out on my way home to make things right again.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Island School, King, Amelia - 14, Fiction: Group 4

, Selim Alvarado had stood in the middle of the destroyed and bloodstained, factory territory of the Pearl River Delta. A gun in hand, and my own crimson liquid spilling out from my other shoulder down to the ground, where lay the body of a Asian man, in his late forties, a spear protruding from his

throat. I couldn’t help at cringe at the sight. The pain and torture that these innocent people had witnessed for who knows how long, there isn’t much to say but I wish I had never tried to help them. How did this all come to be? Why did this even have to happen? Of course, it’s all because I stepped foot in this very location. That I knew I couldn’t turn back to what was about to start. It was around three weeks ago when I had arrived in the Guangdong province for a small mission. I stood in a small village near by a large riverside with small wooden houses built over the waters of the river. Whilst small huts rested on the sandy beach, I scanned around the area, to see a group of what looked like villagers sitting next to the riverside, large, heavy pots in hand, well more like on head. This place was beautiful, but something felt a bit off, the water was filthy, there was dead fish floating above the waters and the crops were slightly withered. I wandered about the area for a while, walking across the side of the riverbed, dark eyes of the locals staring right through me as I passed by. It’s like they have never seen a foreigner before. Even though I had heard that this area was very popular for tourists to visit. “Was I in the wrong location? I couldn’t be. Maria said that this was the right location!” I pondered to myself, not noticing that I had bumped into a local woman. She had let out a yelp and fell back, the pot on her head falling off, and making its way down to the ground where it shattered into millions of pieces. “Sorry.” hah, sorry, how smooth Selim. That’s what I would have said, if it were not for the woman in front of me standing up and pointing her finger at my face, yelling in Cantonese. I couldn’t understand a word that she said; then again I wouldn’t want to find out. Her scolding lasted a few minutes, until I had interrupted her by holding my palm up. “I’m sorry,” I said, giving her a polite bow. Just my luck, 40 minutes in China and already a local woman who just wanted to collect water was already yelling at me. She then couldn’t help but wave a finger at me before storming off in a second. There wasn’t much that I could do to solve the problem. I let out a sigh and reached my hand into my pocket, curling my fingers around a sheet of paper, pulling it out of the pocket and unraveled it. Scanning my gaze over the un-neat scribbles that remained on the sheet of paper. “When you see a hut, much larger tan the others. Go there and knock. There should be a woman in her late fifty’s there to answer. Enter the house and TRY to be polite. This isn’t America, Selim.” ~Maria I couldn’t help but chuckle, soon shoving the paper back into my pocket and rolled my eyes. Beginning to make my small walk, a somewhat little quest to find a house and speak to an old woman. Just like one of those RPG games, where you get to go on a quest and fight monsters to get to the Oracle. I’m starting to get off topic again. Apologies. I had looked around the area for around eight minutes, matching houses by width and height, until my eyes had set upon a large hut built in the center of the little ‘town’. I was taking an obvious guess that; this was the home where I was supposed to approach. So I did.

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Stepping to the front of the building I knocked on the door, to my surprise the door swung forward and made impact with my face, causing me to stumble back. “Ouch!” I cursed underneath my breath but was shortly cut off by a high, raspy voice, which belonged to an old woman. “What do you want? Are you that visitor? Show me some ID.” I was drowned in questions by this woman, which I couldn’t exactly process since I just had a wooden door slammed against my face. This was supposed to be my mission? Travel to a different country and get yelled at by two old ladies and get my face knocked up by a door? Oh how lovely. This mission is surely going to be great. Whilst I was trying to put my head together, the old woman’s hand slipped through my left pocket of my trousers and with a quick yank she had pulled out the letter that was given to me by my partner. “Hey, you could have the manners to ask before taking things.” I said but was cut off by the woman holding a wrinkled hand in front of my face. “Selim, if I’m correct?” she asked. I slowly nodded, at the woman expecting her to allow me to step into the house. But no, she grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and yanked me into the house. For a fifty-year-old woman she’s strong. Strong enough to pull a fully-grown man into her home and cause him to stumble forward and nearly crash into the ground. Luckily I didn’t trip and fall face flat on the floor. Not like I needed anymore facial injures added to the list. The old woman shot a glare at me, folding her arms over her chest. “Do you know why you’re here, boy?” she asked. To be honest, I thought I was here to kill someone but obviously that was not the case. I had placed my hands into my pockets, cocking my head to the side. “Somewhat, I thought I was here to fill out an assassination contract, but that isn’t the case. Is it?” The old woman couldn’t help but show off a yellow-toothed smile. “Correct! You’re here for another reason, Selim.” Her tone changed into a much happier one, kind of, her raspy voice didn’t show much happy emotion when it came to speech. The old woman gripped my shoulders and pushed me into a seat. “Now listen up, my name is Ms. Lin, don’t forget that,” she said, pointing a finger at me. “You are here to infiltrate the main factory and stop its production and kill the head of this program. It’s a dire cause for us villagers who live in the Delta.” I couldn’t help but raise a brow to what she had said. “I need to sneak into a factory?” I asked. “Yes, if you’re wondering why. It’s because we are all in danger. This place is now becoming a chemical wasteland for us villagers, just because those city-goers need to manufacture fake foods and plastic. To where we can’t even drink our own water, eat fresh fish, or even grow crops!” Ms. Lin had a look of disgust written in the wrinkles of her face. I opened my mouth to speak, but she silenced me with the raise of her hand. “I’m not finished yet.” I held my tongue, crossing my arms over my chest and soon leaning back against the large, padded leather chair that I was sat in. “Those who had worked in the factory were brainwashed. They are like robots. Emotionless and have no more free will. They are trained to kill anyone who dares to stop them.” She mentioned, slouching forward and resting her elbows against the top of her knees. “You leave tonight.”

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*** 10:30pm, Tuesday, 25th January. I stood behind large garden of trees just in front of the factory, my eyes scanning the tall building, the large chimneys spewed out smoke into the air, covering the moon with its dark shade. I actually took a large whiff by accident, and on impulse I had covered my mouth with my hand, letting out a song of coughs. I had to be quiet or else the two guards standing at the gate would have shot me. Their backs straight, eyes narrowed, their faces were beyond emotionless. Like robots, they seemed very much on guard. Hah, lucky for me this isn’t the first time that I had dealt with guards like these before. I couldn’t help but smirk at my own cockiness. I had reached into a small pouch that hung on the side of my belt, fingers curling around three small pellets. I titled my body to the side, peering over to the guards. Taking in a deep breath I swung my right arm back then yanked it forward, letting the pellets go. The pellets had landed against the wall, just on top of the guards’ head’s; a bombardment of sparks emitting from each single pellet. Just in a mere second the two guards immediately spun around and scanned the area, unblinking. I had used the opportunity to dart out from the corner of the large tree. Making quick steps to the two guards I had reached my hands into the back of my trousers, pulling out two thirteen-millimeter caliber revolvers out of their holsters. Kicking myself forward to increase my speed. I crossed my arms over each other, pulling the triggers. The bullets had made their way right through their heads. Blood spurting out from their craniums like a water fountain on a spring day. They had collapsed to the ground, puddles of wine-red blood forming upon the ground. Spinning the two calibers in my palms, I tucked the lethal weapons back into their holsters. Stepping forward I kneeled down against the ground, right next to one of the guards. Reaching my hand around his belt I had pulled out a key card. “Lucky me.” I said, a smirk drawn across my lips. Taking a step to the front door, I dragged the card across the scanner, the factory doors launching a large gust of wind as it opened. Peeking my head through the door, I scanned the area, shoving the keycard into my back pocket of my trousers. It was hot inside, the lights were dim and the entire place was just metal. The smell of chemical fumes filled my nostrils, I cringed, gritting my teeth and shutting an eye. “This place is disgusting,” I said to myself, walking into the factory. But of course, nothing goes well for the one telling the story does it? I had felt the metal surface of a rifle bump against my head. “State your business here, foreigner.” It was hard, trying not to make any sudden movements so that I wouldn’t have my brains blasted out by a semi-automatic, but it was hard not to. My instincts had kicked in to where I had dropped myself to the ground and slammed my palms against the floor, pushing my lower body upwards. My feet making impact with mid air flipping myself backwards, the balls of my feet landing on the ground, the sound of footsteps ran in my ears. The guard behind me had moved himself away from my little trick. Click. The sound of the safety of a semi-automatic clicking off rang in my ears. I had made a quick turn of my body. BANG.

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A bullet flew right through my shoulder blade. I hissed when the bullet had shredded through layers of skin, muscle and finally through my bone at such a high speed. Blood had traveled down the base of my shoulder down to my arm, the crimson liquid dripping onto the ground, like small raindrops falling off the tip of a leaf. BANG. Another shot hit me, this time it flew through my side. My eyes widened as the signals from my nervous system hit. This pain was horrible; I curled my arm over my stomach and placed my hand over my side, blood streaming through my fingers. Then finally, the sound of footsteps echoed through the empty halls of the factory. There were more men coming. I didn’t have any time to battle just one man. Teeth gritted I turned tail and made a dash for the front door, letting out a grunt of pain. There was no way that I would manage to take down a crusade of trained men with just two pistols, manage to get to the head of this factory, kill them and then destroy the factory. I needed help and quickly. Kicking myself forward I grabbed onto the door’s ledge pushing myself outside and with a jerk of my arm, the door had slammed shut. Letting out a deep breath.

***

4:30pm, 30th January I sat back at Ms. Lin’s house, bandages now wrapped around my side and shoulder. Sat next to me was my other partner, a young man, around age twenty with brown hair that reached to his shoulders, blue eyes, and a small scar that ran across the side of his cheek. He was sitting beside me with a cup of tea in hand. “What do you mean you are going to start a revolution? These villagers don’t know how to fight at all, and not to mention they don’t exactly have guns.” He said, bringing the cup to his lips. I huffed; Vexus, that’s what his name was. He always one to shut down my ideas, “people want to live in good conditions right?” I said, a determined look on my face. “But with that factory making their home a wasteland they can’t do that. So if we convince them to fight with us, we can enter our way into the Factory from the distraction and then we can kill the leader and blow the place up.” Vexus raised a brow at me, that look always said that I had some big flaws in that idea. Ms. Lin sighed, and waved her hand about. “It’s the only idea that we have. I’ll call the villagers. They will only be used to distract the guards whilst you two make your way into the factory, understand?” she said, her arms crossed. The both of us nodded, standing up immediately and making our way outside.

***

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2:00pm, 1st January I was surprised when it came to Ms. Lin’s convincing skills. Around half the village had come to our aid to finally stop this entire problem once and for all. But I can’t help but feel rather uneasy about this. All of these people just to stop one simple factory from polluting their land. There must have been more to it, but if there was, obviously Ms. Lin wasn’t telling the full story to me. Mentally I slapped myself for not asking her, but this wasn’t the time to start rethinking this. Ms. Lin had turned her back on Vexus and I, holding one of my pistols in the air as she yelled out in Cantonese towards the rest of the villagers. Again, I didn’t know what she said, but judging by the crowd roaring with her, they obviously were with us. I couldn’t help but smile as I had walked towards the factory’s entrance. Whipping out the keycard that I ‘borrowed’ from the guard on the previous nights before, and dragged it across the scanner. The same gust of wind blowing in all of our faces as the doors opened. There was silence. A silence which had immediately been drowned in the cries of hundreds of villagers who charged into the factory, arms raised into the air with their fingers wrapped around their weapons. Vexus, Ms. Lin and I darted inside, the large line of guards which had been on patrol rapidly fired at the villagers, whilst they jumped at them. Slamming hammers against their heads, thrusting spears into their chest. It was a bloodbath. There was blood on the ground, the walls and on our faces. We had shot a couple of guards which had tried to ambush us, Vexus was currently limping due to the shot would on his leg, but surprisingly Ms. Lin didn’t have a scratch on her. For an old woman, she can handle herself pretty well. Her face was completely focused on making her way up the stairs and onto the top floor where the headman sat. We had busted into the room in around four minutes tops; the distraction was working perfectly fine. We had made it into the main area where a tall, man stood in front of us, a rifle in his hands. We just needed to kill this man, and then everything was going to be over with. I raised my caliber up, pointing it straight at the man’s head. “You have been targeted by Selim Alvarado, to die in my hands for your sinful doing.” I said. “Sinful?” he stated, staring right through me with dead brown eyes. “I had done nothing but tried to keep this facility running to make those in the mainland happy.” “What about the villagers here? Do you not care bout them?” Ms. Li said, pointing her own pistol at the man. He just stared, his finger pressed against the trigger. Before any of us could react two guards crashed through the side doors, pointing their guns straight to us. “Fire!” Our opponent screeched. And the sound of bullets flying through the air echoed from the walls. Then there was black.

*** I, Selim Alvarado had woken up in the middle of the room, the numbness of my right arm had surged into pain, I reached to feel for it but. It wasn’t there. I gritted my teeth, holding back tears of pain as I scanned the room. Ms. Lin, the soldiers and the headman of the facilities were on the ground, both soldiers dead and Ms. Lin as well. The man stood up, a small grin on his face. “You’ve failed.” He said, pointing his rifle at my forehead with a shaky hand. Until.

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Bang. His chest was suddenly covered in red. The white of his clothes being stained by his own blood, as he fell to his knees and collapsed to the ground, his eyes wide with shock for his sudden fate and stood behind him was his killer. Vexus. “This place is going to blow!” he shouted running towards me and curling his arm around my waist. I was too shaken up from blood loss to realize that he had carried me outside of the factory with the remaining survivors as the factory exploded like a firework in the night sky. It was over with. Everything was done. But the loss was not worth the attempt. At least, in my books that is.

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Pearl River Delta - Travel Writing Island School, Lai, Austin - 14, Fiction: Group 4

he Pearl River flows through nine major cities of Guangdong, including Hong Kong, Macau, and Shenzhen. It is formed by three rivers, namely Xi Jiang (West River), Bei Jiang (North River) and Dong Jiang (East River). It has been around since 1978, which makes it almost 40 years old. And

the cities that it passes? Well, that forms the topic of this article: the Pearl River Delta. I was there during the winter, due to a business trip. I travelled to HK, Macau and Shenzhen, and stayed in the Pearl River Delta for three days. While I was there, what I saw astonished me. I expected there to be fancy buildings and wealthy people everywhere; I definitely did NOT expect to see so many old buildings about the collapse, poor, homeless people on the streets, and so much litter on the ground; it was simply horrifying, to see that what I visioned as a rich place would be so… run-down. However, despite its flaws, the Pearl River Delta does have its uniqueness. Let’s start from HK. There, the movie Transformers: Age of Extinction was set and filmed. Also, in a little place called Causeway Bay, next to a building called Times Square (yes, exactly the same as the one in New York), there lies one of the most expensive streets in the world, with the renting prices for shops skyrocketing to as high as HK$2 million a month. Around Times Square are two other shopping malls: an older one, Sogo, and a newer one, Hysan Place. There, I saw so many things to buy, so many souvenirs to get for my friends, for my kids. I immediately grabbed the toys, video games, belts, shoes, watches, and of course, socks. Yes, socks. They’re very important, didn’t you know that? I ate lunch at the top of Hysan Place that day. There, on the 11/F, lies a huge food court, with a variety of food ranging from Chinese to Korean to Thai to Singaporean. Above the 11/F are the fancy and expensive restaurants, but since I didn’t have a meeting that day, I decided to stay at the food court and eat like a normal person. Although it was a food court, the food was still immensely satisfying. It was hot, and juicy, and tender, and… I’ll just let you try it out. However, you have to look out for one thing: seats. From 12-2pm, and 6-8pm, the place is just SO crowded. It’s like a carnival. It’ll be better if you go with someone else so you can secure seats for yourself, and not look stupid when walking around the food court with a tray of hot food trying to find a seat, only to bump into someone spilling your food and drinks all over them. After a tough first day in HK, I settled back at my hotel, Conrad in Admiralty. I know, it’s much more fancy and expensive than my lunch, but since the company was paying for this, I thought, “Hey, why not?” The next day, I went out to eat a glorious buffet breakfast, then set off to Macau. Until late 1999, Macau was still under Portuguese rule, much like HK was under British rule until 1997. However, ever since Macau was returned to China under the “one country, two systems” rule, it has been a SAR (special administrative region) ever since, much like HK. These 2 places share so much in common it’s scary sometimes. But of course, after you get to Macau, it doesn’t feel like HK anymore. From the Macau Ferry Pier located in Sheung Wan, you can easily get a ferry to, of course, Macau, which is an hour’s boat ride. Simple, considering you don’t get seasick and throw up in a plastic bag. Once I got there, I felt pretty cold, considering it was winter. Of course, once you get to a fancy hotel in Macau, the first thing you would do is either sightseeing or, this being more probable for an adult, gamble. I went to the casino, and all the lights and sounds of money being cashed in and out of machines were overwhelming. Macau is known for its casinos even more than Las Vegas is, and after those couple of hours, I knew why. After spending most of my money, I decided to go back to my room to rest a bit, then go sightseeing. In Macau, the first sight anyone should think about going to is, most definitely, the Ruins of St. Paul’s. The church was built in the 16th century, but was then burned down and rebuilt multiple times, until the third fire in 1835 left it beyond repair. The site has now been changed into a museum, with the staircases from the original building fixed, allowing us to climb onto the top and have an excellent view of the city and the little ants underneath our feet. Plus, it’s free admission. Next on the list is the City of Dreams. When I went there, I immediately bought tickets to the House of Dancing Water. The City of Dreams was extremely well-known for its live performances, and I was determined to find out why. I wasn’t disappointed. In fact, I went and watched it again afterwards. blablabla add stuff here

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Fiction: Group 4

Finally, one of the must-see sights in Macau is the Macau Tower, the tenth tallest tower in the world. 336 meters above sea level, the Tower offers breathtaking views of the city, and sometimes even some islands of HK. There is also a revolving restaurant at the top, which goes at 60 minutes per revolution. I went there with a couple friends of mine who lived in Macau, and the experience was absolutely spectacular. You could see the entire city of Macau, with cars driving like little ants for you to stomp on, getting smaller and smaller as you slowly reach the top. The restaurant at the top was even better. The food was pretty good, and the rotating of the restaurant gives you a complete 360º view of the city if you stay at the restaurant long enough. After one long day, I was ready for some sleep, peace and quiet. And the next day, I was out of the Venetian, and headed on to my final destination: Shenzhen. To get to Shenzhen, I went back to HK and took the subway there. I know, the ferry ride to Macau was a waste of money, but it was worth it. The ride to Shenzhen was smooth, and after a while, I found myself crossing the border into China. Since Shenzhen and HK were right next to each other, you might’ve thought that the buildings, excitement, and the surroundings would be similar, if not completely the same. Well, you would be delighted. With a population of 7 million, Shenzhen’s skyline mimics that of HK, and the streets aren’t as bad as you might think. They were looked after, and most of the buildings are new or refurbished. On my last day of the trip, I decided to go to two places my friends always told me to go to: the Shenzhen Safari Park and Kingkey 100. Since the Safari Park closes earlier, I decided to visit there first, before visiting the tallest tower in Shenzhen. Located in the north of Shenzhen, one can visit the Park from 8:30 - 18:30. The entrance fee, CNY 150, is a teeny bit pricey, but believe me, it’s worth it. With over 300 breeds of animals, including pandas, tigers, and flamingos, and an area of 120 hectares, the Park is one of the best zoos you will ever come across. The park is divided into four zones: the adventurous beasts’ zone, the vegetarian zone, the animal performance zone, and the Zoological Centre. The adventurous beasts’ zone contains the cheetahs, bears, tigers, lions, and other animals usually seen in the rainforests, caves and mountains. Here, you can also find the only tiglon in the world, and also some rare ligers. The vegetarian zone is inhabited by the giraffes, zebras, kangaroos, flamingos, and plenty other herbivores from around the globe. With the largest swan lake in China, visitors can float in the lake and admire the swans. It was such a nice swim… The animal performance zone is for, obviously, animal performances. This isn’t just a random animal performance from your local theme park; in this one, red orangutans from India work with parrots to work as cashiers, and the elephants are the porters. There are around ten shows a day, in four different halls, namely the Circus Hall, the Elephants and Tigers Show Hall, the Sea Lion Performance Hall and the Birds Performance Hall. A performance containing hundreds of magnificent birds can’t be seen anywhere else in the world, and the final performance containing around 300 actors and over 1000 animals, with elephants as leaders, and other animals either walking alongside them, hovering above them (birds), or following them from behind, is also a sight to behold. The Zoological Centre, located in the northwest section of the Park, contains no animals, but introduces plenty of facts and details about various animals from anywhere in the Park, and in the world. Within the Safari Park is a section called Ocean World, where visitors like you and I can see sea animals, like sea horses, sea lions, dolphins, and various types of sharks. Although it costs another CNY 60, the musical drama “Happy Ocean”, which features acrobatics in mid-air, sea animal performances and fancy high diving, is spectacular, and is definitely worth having a look at. After the Safari Park comes my final destination for my trip: the Kingkey 100, also known as KK100. At 442m above sea level, it is the tallest building in Shenzhen, and is ranked eleventh globally. The entry fee is RMB 200, but shaped like a pen, and with 100 floors in total, the top of KK100 offers a breathtaking 360º view to the rest of the city, and even a view into HK, which consists mainly of the mountains in the New Territories. It’s like being on a mountain with AC and soft, fluffy couches in case you feel tired.You can also get a drink and a snack from the cafe in the St Regis Lobby hotel area; it’s included in the ticket. The view during daytime is wonderful, but the view at night is even better still. Since Shenzhen’s skyline is like HK’s, the nighttime view is also similar, although Shenzhen has more open space than HK does. The buildings’ lights and the cars’ headlights below flashing make for an amazing view of the city, and although they may become slightly blinding after a while, it is still something marvellous to behold.

Fiction: Group 4

Here marks the end to my journey to these 3 parts of the Pearl River Delta. If I get a chance, I must visit the rest of the Pearl River Delta, for there are many other regions I didn’t cover yet. I hope your journey shall be as pleasant and delightful as mine, and I wish you have a marvellous adventure.

Fiction: Group 4

The Pearl of the Dragon King Island School, Lai, Justin - 14, Fiction: Group 4

ay your happiness be as boundless as the East Sea and your age last long like the South Mountain” was a Chinese auspicious song for longevity. Most people would not believe such landscape actually existed, but I knew where it was. The truth was that I “belonged”

there even it’s not my wish… Another day in the market past, yet again, I cannot earn money. I clenched my fists with anger.

Had it not been those selfish, uncaring businessmen, I would have been able to make a living. Sanshui was no longer making money it used to be decades ago. Many of our neighbors sold their

land and left, however that was not an option for me, since my ancestors commanded their descendants to live here– I couldn’t disobey the only hope laid upon me even I didn’t quite understand.

As people in the market were getting fewer, I picked up the fishes, stuffed them in a net, hung it

over my shoulders, and walked home.

Before the industrialization taken over Sanshui, there were common to live five generations of one family together, everyone was self-content with life. Without any tension, we tolerated each other and lived in peace and harmony. We were either fishermen or farmers with their sheds built in the valley or by the riverside, our small village was along an area called Sanshui where the three pearl rivers, which the northern-western-eastern rivers ran through and form the Pearl River Delta, met together, there was no pollution at all. There was not much else around here except an abandoned railway nearby. It was the original terminus of Canton-Sanshui railway built in 1904 during the Qing Dynasty, only a rusting old tank locomotive was left.

With the rapid economic and social development, Sanshui in the recent years has been constructing

bridges above the delta waterway; there is a great construction project to merge the Hong Kong-Zhuhai-Macau Bridge. Ever since, I have noticed my fish catch decreased, the noise disturbance and the concrete blocking reduce the fish habitat. I have also found many fishes carrying parasites. This indicates that there is heavy contamination in the water. It has made me worry about Sanshui has struck a balance between economic development and environmental protection.

I swung the door open, I felt upset but trying to act and look natural so that my wife would not

feel anything wrong. To my surprise, it was my son, Luo who greeted me. He said, “Daddy, look, I received a merit for being the best singer in my class!” My distress was immediately solved. I kneeled down and patted my son’s head. We had been practicing hard as there would be a traditional folk song competition in few days later. By that time, everyone in our village must participate regardless their ages. The winning price would be a blessing fresh egg; we all believed that whoever won would make that person’s one wish come true. Before going to bed, Ling sweetly carried me a barrel of hot water for soaking my tiring foots, while singing in such a relaxing mood, there were no words to describe how bless I was to have found Ling as my lovely wife and had Luo with us.

The next day, I woke up and found a lump under Luo’s skin. We immediately sent him to the hospital. After a series of checkups, the doctor said my son had a

kidney cancer, and it might have spread to other organs. That was the most painful night of my life. I sat by the shore and dipped my legs in the shivering

cold water. How could I be so useless! I knew the seas were polluted; how many times Ling had been nudging me to leave this place, but I still insisted to stay… I certainly was a failure as either a husband or a father. “What am I g…going to do?” I felt disheartened.

“M

Fiction: Group 4

Then suddenly I felt a gust of wind roaring in my ear from the direction of the abandoned railway. “But wait, how is this possible?” I thought. The broken train was in its full shape! Golden smoke was swirling around the train. Out of curiosity, I boarded the train, and then it zipped me through the portal.

I woke up with a shock! Next to me stood a tall and slender man, wore a uniform. I looked out of

the window and recognized the place was Sanshui. However, there were neither any overwhelming factories shooting out black smoke into the sky, overhead highways zipping through the air, nor even black, mucky oil and chemicals in the water. This was my ideal Sanshui!

“May I help you, sir?” the man asked. “Umm, can you tell me what today is and where I am?” I asked. “Are you serious? You must have taken the ride too long!” he added, “here is Sanshui and today is

the 1st of January 1904, how could you forget such an important day to witness the holy dungeon arising?” Now everything was jumbled up in my brain. “1904…Holy dungeon… What is happening?” And then I remembered my grandfather once mentioned about a holy maze in the legend. There’s

a dungeon, facing the East Sea with the South Mountain behind, only appeared once in a year; in the middle of the dungeon sat a pearl that could purify water, presided over aquatic life, and healed any illness. If this was the legendary dungeon−a place for longevity, I had to get the pearl to Luo…

As I zipped past the crowd, I took a quick glance at the humongous granite walls with carving details on pillars. Many guards were standing at the gate before the dungeon entrance. Judging by their advanced weapons such as guns and cannons, they were obviously backed up by the Westerns. After our severely weak Qing Dynasty government lost the warship, they demanded the grant over the extraction of the railway. Then I understood the reason for building the railway; they wanted to mobilize their army in order to loot the pearl from the Delta in the dungeon.

While scouting through the busy streets, still half believing what happened today, I saw a house seemingly like mine but the lock on the door was identical and so I took my key out—“click”, and door swung open. The house was pitch-black. As I tried to navigate through the darkness, I found a candle on the table and lit it up, my eyes widened, as the interiors were exactly the same as mine except the furniture… I turned back and suddenly saw a figure! My heart jumped and the next second I was pinned down with a knife on my throat.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” the man asked. “I didn't m…mean it as I mistakenly thought this was my h…house!” I choked out the words. Then he released me and said, “Fine, I trust your words, but don't come back again or I’ll kill

you.” The light from the candle started to flicker over his face, then to my surprise it looked like my

grandfather but younger. “Grandpa,” I muttered. “Nobody here is your Grandpa!” he shouted with his eyes moving onto my arm, and then asked in

disbelief, “Impossible! How did you get this tattoo? “ We sat down and started exchanging our backgrounds. I told him about coming from 2014, my

career as a fishman, and how Luo was diagnosed with cancer. When it was his turn, he spoke directly and confidently.

“The Draconis are the decedents of the Dragon King who takes charge of the sea. However one day, an evil spirit tricked the Dragon King and transferred all his power into a pearl. The pearl, having a mind of its own, sealed itself inside a dungeon and sank into the oceans where the evil spirits could never reach; but at the first day of every year, the pearl will rise up and try calling her master. The evil spirits couldn't find a way to conquer the dungeon, so they started capturing people from the Draconis tribe, hoping to find a way to get through the last chamber and obtain the pearl. What they don’t know is that only the blood of the 10th generation of the Draconis decedent will be able to open the last door leading to the pearl, and the truth is I am the 10th decedent and my name is Jin,” he continued, “also the tattoo is only belonged to the pure bloods of ancient Draconis, which means you are my great grandson!”

Fiction: Group 4

“Great-grandpa Jin, if you are the chosen one, I must cover you and send you to the pearl,” I exclaimed, “we must protect the pearl from falling into the evil spirit hands or else the world will end.”

He sat up with his legs crossed, eyed closed and said, “Every Draconis has his unique ability and

you could see through yours, let me help you.” Red aura started swirling around his body, emitting melting heat to its surroundings as if all sprites could be destroyed. He opened his eyes and a beam of light struck through my heart, and the room was dark again…

Images of different types of fighting techniques, weapons, battle tactics, and so much more started

zipping across my head. When they finally stopped, my body felt lighter and my movements were more agile. When he got up, Jin motioned me to follow him. He brought me to a basement filled with different varieties of weapons. I found none of them special except a fishing rod which seemed to lure me into it. I picked it up and felt a warm tingling in my brain. Jin was doubtful about my choosing a fishing rod for the battle, so he gave me a sword too whereas he took a large polearm with him.

That night, we sneaked past the guards and entered the dungeon… Immediately we fell…

I heard water dripping when I woke up. My eyes shot open! Jin was right next to me scouting the area. I realized I was facing a giant lake. The water was crystal blue, the air was soothing, and the grass under my feet felt refreshing. There were millions of funky plants dancing in the wind, along with glowing crystals that lit up the area. I was stunned by the beauty of the place, and was about to drift away if Jin hadn't slapped me and woken me up from the illusion. All of a sudden, something tangled my feet, and dragged me into a gigantic Venus flytrap that was about to devour me. With the speed of lightning, Jin sliced the vines off, the plant twitched a bit, then died. “P…phew, it was close!” it really freaked me out.

Then we came across a giant maze built with massive stone blocks, the maze pathways were moveable with no dead ends at all, but there were always a shimmer as if guiding their masters the right path to the way-out. Far away we heard battle screams. We dashed forwards, hoping to join in the fight; instead, we saw a bunch of ghouls like creatures with blood dripping from their mouths and a pile of dead, ripped open bodies at the corner, then we spotted a woman who was about to be attacked. We fended off the waves of ghouls and retreated from the woman unharmed. I went up to her and to my surprise, it was Ling! She, too, looked as shocked as I was. I wrapped my arms around her with tears.

We sat down and exchanged our encounters. She was looking for me and also went on the train

and somehow she was in the dungeon with many dead bodies and the ghouls... She couldn’t believe who we actually were though, however, still wanted to stay with us and I couldn’t leave her alone too.

There was a long hallway before entering the chamber; we encountered thousands of monsters,

some could fly and the rest could crawl—enormous human-eating moths, mutant spiders, giant ants, massive venomous snakes slowly sneaking across the roof.

We kept deflecting, parrying, slashing, slicing through the hordes of monster and I kept Ling following behind us during the fight.

Eventually we came across an overwhelmingly enormous trapdoor and I guessed it was the last chamber door.

“So this is it huh?” I said, “I think so,” Jin continued with his finger pointing, “all we need to do is to put some blood into

this hole right here…” Shockingly, blood started spilling from Jin’s heart… I looked with terror… Ling was holding a dagger and impaling it through As Jin collapsed to the ground, I screamed… The background immediately dropped. Skulls and skeletons shattered. The temperature dropped

dramatically to freezing cold. Ling started to emit a dark, black, aura around her. Hordes of ghouls surrounded us with bloodlust eyes.

Fiction: Group 4

“HAHAHAHAHA fools!” Ling’s voice changed to a deeper tone as if millions of creatures were talking at the same time.

Then Ling’ face shifted and turned into another woman-like-creature wearing hollow eyes and paler skin with four limbs growing from the back of her.

“I can’t believe my plan worked so well! I summoned you here from the future, attached with one of my spying mist, so you can get near to this stupid Draconis “hero” and extract the secrets of opening this door.” she continued, “all this time, stuck in this dungeon, luring armies in, eating the humans, increasing my magic powers, and still I couldn't get through this damn door! But at last, the world is mine!”

She waved her hand and I was repulsed and went limp. Then she grabbed Jin and stained his blood

on the door.

This was it! I couldn’t s…stop her. Soon I would lose Jin, my wife and son who have been waiting in the future. But shortly after my grief, I heard a screaming voice with anger from the evil, “Could anyone tell me why this damn door still shut?”, then I saw Jin wrapping her tight with his last breath and said “G…gosh I finally could catch you, the true is… it’s the 13th generation, not ME, can open this chamber, but my blazing hot blood can weaken your power so that I can protect my great grandson to reach here. You fool!”, then he shouted at me “GO…!”

The rod started to sparkle and boosted me with power. I casted my fishing rod against the

incoming ghouls and I fought through the army of ghouls, smashing down those whoever stepped in my way, and destroying every single one of them. It didn’t take long to pulverize the intimidating army and leaving the spirit facing towards me with shock.

“How dare you filthy fishman destroy my babies! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!” she shrieked and summoned a dark smoke around her. Without a second of warning, the evil-face smoke shot towards me. I sidestepped and crouched down, barely dodging the smoke.

The black-evil-face smoke turned and started to bombard me again. I ran towards her, leading the smoke, and then immediately rolled to one side, “BAM” it was a direct hit! She screamed, but her disintegrated body parts already started to reform.

Here came my chance! I grabbed my fishing rod, flung the hook at her, which acted like a snake, the fishing line coiled around the body, which bound her from moving. She tried to struggle, but the fishing line continued to tighten to the point she gave up. “Who the hell are you?” she asked, “Oh! I am just an ordinary fishman. Now, BEGONE!” I replied and then the spirit dissolved into dust.

I ran towards the lifeless Jin.

“No, you can't die!” I shouted at him. But I knew it was useless. Just when I was about to fall into despair, I cut my hand, and pouring the blood to the door. It

was flung open and in the middle sat a floating white pearl. It shot a beam of light that struck him. Slowly, the wound in his chest recovered–Jin was back!

Slowly, I limped towards the pearl and felt a surge of unlimited power flowing into my veins. So this was The Pearl of the Dragon King. “All I need to do is to bring it back to my family and

then our problem is solved.” I touched it and felt its icy surface; suddenly images started flashing into my brain.

I saw myself had taken the pearl away from the dungeon and brought it home, healed my family, but it vanished. Then I looked out of the window, I still saw the filthy, polluted sea with dead fishes and an army of dark spirits rising from the sea.

I realized what the pearl wanted to show me. If I took the pearl away from the dungeon, millions

of evil spirits would be targeting the pearl and my family would be in danger. On the other hand, if it stayed deep under the oceans, no evil spirits would be able to get near; hence all the pollution in the future would be neutralized and my family would not suffer from the pollution.

I looked at the crumbled pile of dust from the ghouls and the dead-sprites. There would always be other waves of spirits, or even humans, who would try to take the pearl, and one day, those bedrock doors would eventually fall…

Fiction: Group 4

I needed to stay here to guard the pearl from any invaders. This was the only way to protect my family, my Sanshui, and the future… “Good-bye Ling, good-bye Luo, I wish you could forgive me!” I thought. The pearl glowed and I could feel a huge power merging into my body. I lifted my snoring Jin and sent him home……

Sanshiu in 2015

“Congratulations to Luo for winning our 2015 folk-song competition! Here is your blessed egg, so make a wish……..”

Fiction: Group 4

In Arduis Fidelis Island School, Lau, Chak Kei - 14, Fiction: Group 4

he lock clicked, as the door to the vault softly hissed open. A gloved hand carefully reached into the vault, withdrawing the stacks of gold ingots that had been neatly stacked inside the vault. “Lets get out of here,” said the figure wearing a fox mask.

“Sure, Rat’s already got the van outside, we’re good to go. But hey, shouldn’t we take a look inside the bedroom?” replied a figure with a chicken mask. “Nah, too risky, they’ve got too many camera’s, Rat reckons they have some he couldn’t disable,” retorted Fox. The pair crept silently towards the front door of the house. Their plastic soles making no sound as the softly edged outside the house. To them, it was just another night, another job, it was what they had to do to keep food on the plate and clothes on their backs. The world isn’t a nice place after all. As the door clicked shut behind them, Fox stuck some sort of card on the handle; the pair then casually strolled out to the street. The pair then climbed onto a white mini-van that was parked outside the residence. With a brief nod acknowledging another figure that was already waiting in the mini-van, the pair swiftly stuffed the heavy black bag in the backseat. The mini-van drove off into the night, with three people and a total of one and a half million RMB. The local law enforcement officers wouldn’t arrive until the next morning, when the owners of the residence returned from their celebration. By then, nothing would be left besides a card with a cockroach imprinted on both sides. Jok sat inside the restaurant. A newspaper carelessly strewn across his table as he lazily slurped his daily cup of coffee. The sound of television blaring the early morning weather report could be emitted from somewhere inside the kitchen. Unfortunately, Jok just couldn’t muster up enough energy to care. He sighed as he silently surveyed the scene outside. It was a normal boring Monday for a day in Dong Guan. The birds were chirping mutedly and the city was covered in a blanket of somber silence as the citizens were preparing the start a new week. “Hey mate, fancy seeing you here! Did you hear about that robbery? Man, thirty-three kilograms of gold just gone! Like poof!” someone excitedly exclaimed from somewhere behind him. Jok sighed; he assumed it was probably the work of the “Cockroach Gang”, a new robbery gang that had recently appeared on the scene. It was no mystery that China was filled with robbery gangs, especially in the Pearl River Delta. The area was like a treasure chest for robbers, masses of moderately wealthy people that placed too much trust in security cameras and half trained guards. It was no wonder that a lot of the gangs would come around this area. Although, they’ve got to have some guts, with the police crackdowns that started in January. These gangs were getting arrested left and right. He silently wondered how many more robberies the Cockroaches could commit before they were arrested. Three probably, three sounded like a good number. Although, Jok mused, most gangs attacked sea faring vessels rather than the rich villas that resided further inland. His coffee cup empty, he stood up and went to the cashier to pay. It was time to get to work. Not that he liked it, working a typical nine to six, dead end car cleaning job was not something that adventures were made of. Sadly, he was in need for money and any job was a good job right now. He wasn’t proud of it, but a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. Jok stepped outside to a bright day. He carefully traversed down the sidewalk, easily slipping into a routine that he repeated daily. Making instinctive turns as he casually strolled down the street. His thoughts drifted. From his small and battered apartment to his sick mother, he contemplated his life wondering how he got here. He had only been a small boy once, a simple farmer’s child. Now he lived in the city, in a small run down apartment complex, barely living comfortably with the wage he was earning. His mother had fallen to cancer, chemotherapy costing him almost all that he had earned.

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Fiction: Group 4

“Jok, Jok!” Shouted an enraged woman. Her fists on her hips, she futilely attempted to rein in the toddler that was running around in the fields. A seven-year-old Jok sprinted carelessly through the lush green fields. He deftly avoided all the trenches that he knew contained muddy water from the last time that it rained. Ignoring his mother, Jok continued to stray further and further from his home. The stone and brick shack seemed smaller and smaller the farther away he got. His whoop of exhilaration briefly calmed his mother, as she stood with a small smile on her face, observing him intently from a distance. “Alright, Jok, let’s get back inside, your dad is waiting. We’ve got some great news” Jok’s mother said. Jok dutifully followed his mother back inside the little shack that they owned. The stifling indoor air buzzing with nervous energy. His mother was unusually subdued. His father sat at the dinner table, hands clasped on the table in front of him. He looked up at the sound of the door opening. A grin blossomed across his face. “Jok! Glad you’re here little buddy!” His father exclaimed. “Such a wonderful weather today no?” Continued his father. “Honey, you’re rambling, get to the point” Interjected his mother. “Of course, of course, Jok, you know how you’ve always wanted to see the city? Well, I just got a job in the city!” His father shouted gleefully, his volume rising with every word. “Oh isn’t that wonderful Jok? Just imagine us in the city. I hear they have lovely beautiful clothes there!” His mother said, sighing. A faraway look in her eyes, as if imagining how she’d look dressed in the newest dresses. Her name, Mei Lin Lee woven in the fine silk Jok couldn’t have been happier; it had always been his dream to go live in the city, where there were cool cars and cleaner places. Jok would never have imagined the tragedies that would come. Joke would never have imagined that his father would be killed in a car accident in eight years. Jok would never have imagined that his mother would fall ill with cancer in thirteen years. Jiang Sha Building, Apartment Seventeen was always full of life. People moved around, shouting at each other. There was never a dull moment in there. On this day, Shiang-Chi, the resident of the second room was currently berating Mui-Lai the resident of the third room. It was to this scene that an utterly exhausted Jok came home to. The apartment was a small run down apartment with cracks in the walls and old floorboards. It contained three rooms and a single bathroom, shared between the three occupants of the apartment. Each room was approximately a three by two metre rectangle. It provided little comfort, but it was the only thing the residents could afford. These areas were created to house those that society has turned a blind eye on. Old, small and often filled with people who just needed opportunity to get some money. If life was a race, then these places held those that had been born with no legs. Of course, it was unsurprising that in a place that had such rapid economic progression, many would be left behind by society. Although they were not hated by society, people often liked to pretend they did not exist. They didn’t like confirmation that their world was not perfect, so they often looked the other way. Jok headed towards the small bathroom, looking for a cold shower since it was almost impossible to get hot water here. He sighed at the sight of the beer bottles on the sink counter. Shiang-Chi had never gotten over his PTSD after being discharged from the American Marine Corps after his battalion had been completely killed in an ambush. Jok cleaned up the bottles and took a shower. Knowing that Mui-Lai, the designated cook, would have a small meal waiting for him afterwards. Mui-Lai cooked in the shared kitchen that was located every other floor. She couldn't cook much (they didn’t have enough money), but it was enough to keep him going. Jok got out of the shower, feeling more relaxed and cleaner than ever. Looking into the mirror he muttered to no one “At least you don’t live in Hong Kong, all those tales about cage homes and coffin homes are enough to give me nightmares, brrgghh!”

Fiction: Group 4

Jok ate his dinner in silence, the others doing whatever they did. Afterwards, he retired to his tiny room, counting the cracks on his ceiling as he fell asleep. He wondered how his mother was now, her cancer had gotten worse, and she now had to stay in the hospital just incase. Jok wondered where he would get all the money to pay for all of the medical bills. With that last depressing thought, Jok drifted off into the land of sleep. The darkness shrouded the three figures that made their way down the hallway. They reveled in the safety the darkness provided as they stealthily made their way to the master bedroom of the manor. “Fox, you have the code?” Questioned Rat. “Course I do, do you think I’m a amateur?” Replied Fox. Rat opened his mouth in an attempt to speak but was cut off swiftly by Fox “That was a rhetorical question dumbo!” Said Fox. “Enough guys, we’re on a mission.” Chicken whispered furiously, though not without a hint of amusement. The trio continued their path towards the master bedroom. Arriving at the door, Fox lightly pushed the door open with a hint of hesitance. The door creaked open, the mildly rusty hinges groaning at the movement. The three slowly entered, heading directly for the safe they knew to be hidden in a secret compartment towards the bottom of the bookcase. They methodically removed all the books in the lower stand of the bookcase, taking extra caution to record where each book once sat. Once that had been done, Rat carefully flipped a lever that sat in the bottom right corner of the bookshelf. The entire bottom row flipped open, revealing the shiny titanium of a well-kept safe. With his heart beating like a cheetah chasing his prey, Fox carefully inputted the security code they had managed to catch a glimpse at yesterday during house surveillance. The soft hissing of the alarms disarming and the locks unlocking was like music to their ears. Eagerly, Chicken threw open the door and promptly cackled at the sight of the precious jewels inside the safe. With an air of casual efficiency, the trio quickly distributed the loot evenly, ensuring that everyone had equal value. This was a security maneuver in case someone was compromised. Suddenly, a bright beam shone through the window as a loud siren pierced the night. The trio glanced at each other, eyes wide with surprise. “Okay, okay, scenario three, meet tomorrow back at base” Said Chicken. With the other two nodding in agreement, the three enacted a most daring escape. Contrary to how he looked, Fox was currently the epitome of a calm individual. He had prepared for this before, every time before a raid there would always be escape routes planned, in case something went awry. He made a mad dash for the second floor window, with his nylon bag in front of him; he jumped and crashed through the window, to land ten feet below on the soft grass floor. Executing a free-run roll he quickly got to his feet and sprinted for the garden wall. He expected two officers to be waiting for him, something he could easily handle. Grappling the top of the six feet hedge, he hoisted himself up. Surprisingly, there was only a single officer waiting for him. He nimbly leapt down from the hedge, and as the shocked officer was frozen staring at him, he took the opportunity to dash away. The officer hot on heels moments after. Fox settled back into his natural territory, executing double backs and leaping over walls of dead end alleyways in order to lose his pursuer. Evidently, his pursuer did not have much experience as Fox had left him in the dust merely five minutes into the chase. Deeming it was safe, Fox ditched his mask and made and serenely strolled back to his residence. He entered the door, giving a passing neighbor a curt nod in greeting. “Hello Jok, you’re out late” replied Shiang-Chi. Rat and Chicken were arrested during the getaway; both unfortunately have run into cop ambushes. However, both had refused to tattle on the identity of their mutual accomplice. They were eventually sentenced to five years in jail. Mrs. Lee had undergone tumor removal and after multiple sessions of chemotherapy, is now on the way to recovery. Although the doctors adopt a wait and see attitude and suggest that checkups be made weekly for the next three months, her and her son Jok are overjoyed at the prospect of leaving the hospitals vicinity.

Fiction: Group 4

Mysteriously, the Fox mask was found four days later, hanging from a pole. A card was loosely attached to it, and on it a sentence was carved into the paper. The sentence of “I have what I wanted” raised hell in the local police force, all of them wondering if another heist had been committed, when it appeared there hadn't been one, the case was dropped as a cold case. No DNA trace was ever found on the mask. Three years later at a law course in a local high school, students would be asked to give a speech about their opinions on justification. A student used the Cockroach Gang as an example and claimed that they were “scumbags of the highest possible caliber merely worthless air sacs that only knew how to steal for greed”. When questioned about the mysterious third partner she responded with “He was probably a coward and a really bad person, I would be ashamed if I had someone like that as a fan”.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Island School, Lau, Bond - 14, Fiction: Group 4

jewel against a canvas of black. A small planet that, like 1700 others in the universe, is capable of sustaining life. The earth is our home, a planet filled with various possibility, beauty and nature. But having the right circumstances is not enough. Water is a requirement for life on earth, with over

70% of the surface covered in it. A complex network of blue is stretched out on the landscape of the earth, each bestowing its life giving properties upon all that are near. Each river of the simple compound that grants life to us all has its own history, its own noble features. And the Pearl River Delta is a part of this system, a grand part of China’s geography. An area of 15,200 square miles large, the Pearl River Delta is the land surrounding the Pearl River estuary, the channel for the river to flow into the sea. With a population over 57 million, the economically dynamic region is a land still rich with wildlife and nature further inland from the coast. Away from the major cities, the banks of the water channels teem with life and motion. Water lilies float on the surface, their flowers gentle splashes of pink against a background of vivid natural colors. The predominant one is green, with every hue possible within the canopy of leaves, proof of the countless forms of plants living here. In the marshes, cranes stand rigidly still, eyes always keen for the slight nibble of a fish on their one leg in the water, with the sun above it all, gleaming as if it approves of how the nature has been preserved. The slight breeze of the wind acts upon all, adding a rather set angle to the position of the plants, the leaves fluttering along as if they wanted to be set free from its confined place on the stem. A constant gushing sound is heard, due to the motion of the water downstream, its movement and clarity casting bright sharp reflections of light back at its source. The water here does not have the crystal clarity of what it was further upstream, nor is it the polluted dirt color that it will be transformed into later on. The water, in its current state and color, seems infused with its own spirit, emanating a feeling of joy of being able to keep on moving, in the endless cycle of evaporation, condensation and precipitation. The further the current flows downstream, the color green becomes less and less predominant, being replaced with more and more man-made structures, dirtier shades of dark colors, and the occasional litter floating around in the water. The atmosphere has been changed, slowly but surely, from the beautiful bright haven of life to a field of sickness, poison and pollution. Yet death is scarce here, for there is hardly any life. This concentration of despair varies from place to place, some places having a much higher intensity of this plague than others. In such places, the air is tainted grey from the noxious fumes emanating from factory chimneys, lazily seeping into the earth’s atmosphere. The boldness of the concrete should stick out like a sore thumb next to the water, yet it seems to blend in, as the color of the water has darkened to such an extent. But some of the outlets are less clogged with filth, and still contain the faint traces of nature’s blessing. At night, everything is shrouded in darkness. Yet on most days, the only light comes from manmade sources, as no shard of moonlight is able to pierce through the stifling blanket of clouds. The rattle of machinery slices itself occasionally through the midnight air, while the stench of oil and garbage lingers in ones nostrils. Sometimes, though, the clouds do part, and the moon is once more a visible luminous body within the sky. The light that radiates off the moon is different, a gentle wash of yellow-white illumination that seems to bathe everything in liquid moonlight, making them glow with an inner aura. Perhaps the machinery seems to be a little softer, or the smell seems to change a little, from the dark, nauseous smell back to the fresh, crisp aroma of the environment upstream. But even in the soft radiance of the moon, visibility is limited, and it seems that, for just a night, we seem to hear the almost imperceptible gush of the water, and believe that the river is peaceful again. For another chance to return to its former state, a state of serene calm, pristine beauty, all tinged with the same element of hope.

A

Fiction: Group 4

Memory Island School, Law, Yue Hang - 14, Fiction: Group 4

he cold January Breeze blew across a blossom filled floor, gently blowing the flowers round the damp soil. The sun was setting, lettings its last rays of light dance across the mossy fence. By the fence, stones carved carefully placed in neat rows. A figure stood in front of one of these stones.

Bending down carefully, she placed a bunch of white flowers along with a crisp envelope. A male called her from outside the fence. Lingering for a moment, she looked at the stone, about to say something. After arguing with herself, she decided against it and spoke nothing. She kneeled down and traced the faded words on the stone with her finger. She closed her eyes, as if reliving moments from the past. Finally

stepping up, she walked away.

Without looking back.

Siu Xina (1995~2004)

Loving, Kind Sister

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rina sat under the old wooden bench, staring off in the distance. The memories still seem so fresh to her, it’s like she lost her yesterday. “Big Sis, Big Sis!” a girl cried. She choked back a sob. Is it possible? Is it possible that she came back? “Where were you? I’ve been looking for you!” an anxious girl, obviously the older sister asked. “I went off, off on my own to follow a puppy!” The younger girl blubbered back “Don’t do that anymore, what if bad people caught you and held you hostage? I’ll never see you again” “I’m sorry, Sissy! I’ll never do it again!!!! The elder sister reprimanded the crying younger sister, wiping her teary eyes on a lint covered tissue. When the last of the younger girl’s tears are gone, she gently smiled and took her younger sister’s hand. It was unbearable to see the flashbacks appear again

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sissy! Sissy! Where are you? Where did you go??? ” A crying girl sat in the police station. Her eyes were completely blurred by the big tears that have formed. Face crumpled, she kept crying, hoping that her sister

would find her. A police walked over and questionably looked at the small kid crying on the bench. “What happened, partner?” He asked. “The little girl, she wandered in saying that she lost her sister” his partner, another policeman answered. “Did you find her sister?” “Not yet, but the little girl has been here crying for almost an hour-“ “-XINA!” a voice bellowed from the doors. There she was, soaked from the bone. She had been searching for her sister all this time, the shock she had when she found when she lost her sister. Just like the little girl, she had been crying nonstop for an hour. In her hands, she held a worn down plastic sheet. “Siu Xina!” Rina choked down her own tears. “Do you know how worried I was? I WAS WORRIED SICK ABOUT YOU!”

T

Fiction: Group 4

“I, I was following the puppy along the path, and, and I lost you!!!” Xina wailed. “NEVER, NEVER go off without telling me, ever again. Never again, never-“ Rina started blubbering

The two girls, both clutching each other, were reduced to a sniveling pile of mess in front of the police station. Holding onto her sister’s hand firmly, she walked out of the police station. Using the worn sheet of

plastic, she held it over her sister’s head to shelter from the rain, not once thinking of using it on herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rina stood up and started walking. Glancing at the sky, she could see there was a bit of sun today. Rina smiled. Xina always did like a bit of sun. Looking back now, if that had not happened, will Xina be with her

today?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was partially sunny. Lying on the concrete floor of the rooftop, the two sisters looked up to the sky. The sun seemed to peek behind the grey clouds that threatened to cover the whole sky. Xina broke the silence: “Whenever there was a bit of sun, I’d imagine I was a bird, with the sun rays melting my frozen wings, so I’d be able to soar free from this misery” Surprised by her sudden outburst, Rina asked “But why don’t you want the day to be a sunny day? Won’t it be much pleasant to have a sunny day instead?” “If I get too close to the sun, you’d be burned” “Me? You’re willing to take me with you? Aren’t you afraid that I’ll drag you down with me?”

“Will you? I’ve always believed in you, why would I stop now?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I’ve always believed in you, why would I stop now?” Xina’s voice echoed in her mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She thought back to how protective Xina was to her. Inwardly, she smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ I’d like you to meet my new boyfriend, Keith!” Rina announced.

Keith was Rina and Xina’s childhood friend. Without parents, Keith took care of the two sisters, providing them with a simple shelter in a small public housing estate.

“What- he can’t be your boyfriend!” Xina exclaimed indignantly.

“Why not, Xina?” Keith asked jokingly.

“Bec- Because It would be weird, you know, you’re like our friend and stuff,” Xina spluttered, twiddling her fingers.

“Well,” Keith started.” I promise to you, if I ever, ever make your sister cry, or miserable in any sort. You

may take her away from me.”

“One mistake, fella.” Xina warned

Fiction: Group 4

“I promise”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you okay? Do you need me to come over?” Keith asked.

No, She was not okay. Xina trusted her, Xina believed in her. A rash decision, a failed part as a sister had cost her sister’s life, but what can she do now? It’s all over, she can’t come back,

“I’m fine.” “You’re not fooling me at all, Rina - “Keith started “Just stop. I’m fine, okay. I don’t need any consoling, “Rina snapped back. When she saw the shocked look on her boyfriend’s face she looked down, shame faced. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ “Save it, I know how you’re feeling now. I’m not blaming you, but don’t feel too bad about yourself, okay?” Keith said. He, like Rina is equally close to Xina, childhood friends at least. Keith has been taking care of Rina and Xina like family. “You didn’t mean for it to happen, so... Don’t blame yourself.” But he’s wrong. It was my fault. Rina thought bitterly. She could remember it like yesterday. The day her world started falling apart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was raining. Cars beside the rocky pavements whooshed pass like wild horses. The two sisters, each with a bag of groceries in hand, walked on the rocky pavements, joking about when Rina was going to get

married. Out of a sudden, a man, obviously in a hurry, ran past Rina, knocking her in the process. The bag of groceries, inside filled to the brim with Groceries goes flying up in the air, falling like a shower of rain on

the roads. Without looking up, Xina drops to her knees, picking up the food and putting it in the bag.

What happened next was unbearable to think. A loud honk, the smell of burning tires, and…

A scream

A scream embedded in Rina’s mind forever. The piercing scream that came from Xina before her body was thrown back a few meters. Rina could only stare with her eyes open, her mind already forgetting how to

think. Gathering her thoughts, she crawled over to where her bloodied sister was.

“Oh my god, Oh my god, there’s been an accident! Someone! Someone call an ambulance!” She heard someone say. She could hear the opening and closing of the car door as the driver- flustered, started to call

for the ambulance. The crowd formed around her was suffocating and unbearable to the least. The tears from her eyes started to blur around her.

“Little girl? Little girl? Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” a stranger had asked her. The words of

concern just drifted past her, not making it in her brain. All she could focus on was the bloody mess of her sister.

“Xina…Xina… Talk to me Xina!!!” She pleaded her unconscious sister to reply.

Silence dropped like an anvil.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Beep------- Beep----------- Beep-----------“The steady beep of the monitor sounded

Fiction: Group 4

over the room. Rina sat on the small, uncomfortable plastic chair. Keith stood by the door. The doctor came out a while ago, telling her with the rib fractures and the blood loss, there is only a small chance she might make it. Rina, pale and shocked just nodded and drifted over to the hospital seats and sat down. She

took in Xina’s sleeping face, hoping that she’d make it through.

“Hey, sissy?”

Rina was a little surprised, her sister was awake, and she was fine! Wasn’t she?

“Sissy, I… I don’t think I’m going to make it…”

Rina doesn’t want to hear it. Rina doesn’t want to hear it from her.

“Hush, Xina. You’re gonna make it through, just like that. Don’t say things like that again, okay?” She whispered.

Xina gulped and looked at the ceiling. “It hurt.” She said

“Huh?” She was surprised, ready to call the doctors “What hurt?”

“Being hit by that truck, it hurt so much… I was so afraid that I might die. I was more afraid that I’d never

see you again-“

“Please Xina, don’t talk about it. You’re going to be fine.”

“Sissy, can you help me get some Water? I would like to talk to Keith for a while and my throat feels kinda parched.”

“Sure,” “I’ll come back to check on you later, don’t miss me too much, kay?

“Ha-ha~ Oh, and one thing:”

“I love you”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She should’ve known when the doctors all suddenly rushed past her into the small room. Frozen in shock, she could hear the faint, dull single beep from the heartbeat monitor outside the room. The water she

brought spilt over the floor; she could care less about that. When the doctors gently placed a cloth over Xina’s head, the thread snapped. She was screaming, pounding at the doors. Tears streamed out of her eyes like two rivers. She begged and pounded on the doors for the doctors to let her in the room. Her sister was

in the room, she needed her.

That’s why. Why would she send her out of the room, Xina must’ve known all along that she wasn’t going to make it past tonight, knowing her sister won’t accept the fact that she’s not going to make past tonight.

Keith, who saw Rina slumping made his way over to Rina and hugged her tight,

When finally she was allowed in, Rina made way and caressed her sister’s cold cheeks, as warm tears made their way on her own. Even on Keith’s face, tears were threatening to spill on their own. Stroking her

sister’s hair, she could only imagine how life would be without her sister: Colorless and Empty. The thought only made her cry harder.

And that night, she cried all night long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fiction: Group 4

A few years after the burial, a figure stood in front of a gravestone. Bending down carefully, she placed a

bunch of white flowers along with a crisp envelope. A male called her from outside the fence. Lingering for a moment, she looked at the stone, about to say something. After arguing with herself, she decided against it and spoke nothing. She kneeled down and traced the faded words on the stone with her finger. She closed

her eyes, as if reliving moments from the past. Finally stepping up, she walked away.

Without looking back.

Dear Xina, Hey, it’s been a while since I visited you. Keith and I just got married; I wish you could’ve seen us. It was beautiful, but I felt really lonely without you. There were loads of people that came to our wedding, but it wasn’t the same, because you weren’t there in the audience. You know, we recently adopted a puppy and named her in your honor. Xinie has your energy, your love. It’s funny; she’s like a complete reincarnation of you. Did you come back to me as the puppy once you realized I was lonely? I really don’t know what to say now. Although I miss you loads, I guess I moved on. You wanted me to do this right? The day you made me leave the room, you didn’t want me to dwell on you passing away, right? I think I’m finally doing this, so this will be the last time I talk to you. Thank you, Xina. Thank you for all the memories.

I love you.

Love, Rina

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Island School, Lee, Yun Jung - 14, Fiction: Group 4

t is bright like the glittering starlight at the deep dark night. The strong and shiny light reflected by the river is shining on me. Brum, brum. I could hear the noisy sound of the engine. I also hear the chinese classic music that I have turned on. I am here again for my job. There is my fellow there. I could see his

expression from here. He has a same job with me. The shiny river is opaque as my future. It is impossible to see through this river.

Tic toc, tic toc. The hour hand of my shabby watch is pointing at 3. This watch is older than my son. 5 hours have past already. Nothing is inside my net except one tiny fish which looks not good enough to sell. My stomach started to tangle itself in knots and groaned with anticipation like a ravenous beast. There is nothing to eat at here except that tiny bluish fish which looks sick. But there is nothing to eat except that. I decided to grill that small fish. That fish tastes really weird! My fellow also tried. He said that this fish tastes like shampoo. I agree with his opinion. This fish tastes bitter. I just throw that away. We now decided to go back to have something to eat. I think we will not come back here before tomorrow. We should come back here tomorrow. I wish I will catch more fishes tomorrow.

I smell the burning smell of the boat. Breeze is tickling the river and me. It made the boat to surge. Shanier lights than few hours ago. Those lights are glazing at me. It makes me frown as I am just staring at the sun. There is a shade under that tree. I’m now laying down this shade. Breeze is tickling me again. It is very comfortable. It makes me feel like I am laying in the beach. But my thoughts interrupted me by feeling like I am in a paradise. What should I do now. In recent times, the river became more opaque because of the pollution here. Water pollution killed many fishes, and it changed some appearance of that fishes. The fishes don’t look fresh enough. Some just looks like it is sick. Fishes like I caught like today. Should I find a new job? Will I be able to catch more fishes tomorrow? When I was thinking with some matters, my eyelids got heavier and heavier as there is a building above my eyelids.

Stronger wind is tickling at me now. It made me to wake up. It’s dark now. No more shiny lights. The hour hand of my shabby watch is pointing at 7. Seven o’clock already! Snoring sound. I hear the snoring sound beside me. I think my fellow also slept beside me. As I thought before, we just decide to go back home today. There is nothing to do more at here. There is no guarantee that we will catch more fish if we go back fishing now. So we just went home. I made a resolution that I will catch more fishes and earn money tomorrow. I felt sorry that I did not earn any money today, but this was my only choice that I could make now.

It was 8 o’clock when I went home. It was very dark when I was going back to home. I felt the emptiness. Nobody except me was in the narrow wynd. No light. It was dark as I was in the bottom of the deep ocean. After walking for few minutes, then I was able to see my house because of the streetlight. That house is not big enough to live with my family. But there are no choices. We should just live at that old and shabby house. We cannot move to a better house because we are struggling for money. Kreeeeeen. I opened the door. It sounds like a bat crying. I went in, and I saw my wife. She looks like that she just arrived from her job. My son is in the living room, which is the only space in our home except the kitchen. We ate dinner, and we all prepared for bed. Me and my wife should go by waking up early in the morning, so we usually sleep before 12 o’clock.

Beep. Beep. Beep. I hear the alarm ringing. It is 5:30 already. Time goes fast as the speed of the light. My wife already finished preparing. She left, and I also started to prepare. It is now 6 o’clock. I also

I

Fiction: Group 4

left. I met my fellow by walking through the narrow wynd. It is shiny again like yesterday. Same pattern is repeated every day. The strong and shiny light reflected by the river shining on me. Brum, brum. Noisy sound of the engine. Chinese classic music from my radio.

Before the river got polluted, there were many healthy fishes that we could catch, so we did not had any conflicts together. But now, we have a competition each other. The amount of fishes looking healthy decreased, so it became harder to catch fresh and healthy fishes. Catching a fish is hard like getting blood from stone. Even though I catch plenty of fishes, I will not be able to earn much money. The cost of the fishes are decreasing because the quality of the fish is not good.

It is getting shinier now. 1 hour have past already. I still have nothing in my net. My fellow also have nothing. We are still waiting for the fishes. After half an hour, my fishing rod started to move. Fish! It looks better than the fish that I caught yesterday. I was glad when I catch that fish. It might be fresh enough to sell in the market.

9 have past until now. I have plenty of fishes in my net. My fellow also do. But only few looks healthy enough to sell in the market. More than half looks sick and weird. It is getting darker. We decided to go back. I could see the moon in the sky. Strong wind is tickling me. We arrived at the land now. No more sunlights glittering the river. We carried our net, we are walking to the market. The market is not in a far place. It is quite close to here.

We arrived at the market. I tried to sell all of my fishes, but I was able to sell less than 10 fishes. I have earn money, but it is not enough. I decided to bring the fishes that I didn’t sold to home for dinner. Same pattern again. Dark in the narrow wynd. When I arrived at my home, it was 10 o’clock. It was late, but we ate dinner at that time. Fishes were tasting really bad again. It have just tasted like shampoo. We slept at 12 0’clock.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Alarm sound again. Everyday is same. Same pattern every day. I feel like I am a robot. I wish I was just a robot. I feel tired everyday. Waking up early, going to fishing, fishes do not look healthy, earn little money, come home late, sleep. We need to payoff the loan, but there are no more money. It is even hard to live with the money that my wife and I earn. I got threaten that I need to payoff the loan before this week ends. There is no way to earn money. It makes me feel like I am trapped in a dark room with no light.

I went fishing again to earn money. It is not that shiny like yesterday. My fellow is not here today. I am alone. I ride the boat by myself. I feel the emptiness. I also feel the wind tickling me. The wind is a little bit more stronger than yesterday. I hear the noisy sound of the engine. 3 hours past. There is nothing in my net. It is getting harder to catch fishes now. I even did not catch any sick fishes. After 1 more hour, I catch a small fish. It is not good enough to sell, but I should try.

It is getting darker now. I feel the emptiness, and it makes me feel like I am isolated in an island. There are few fishes in my net, and I decided to go back and go to the market to sell. Brum,brum. Noisy sound of the engine again. I arrived at the land, and carried my net.

I am now in the market. Nobody is buying my fish. People who bought my fish yesterday say that it just tasted weird. They said that they felt that they were eating a soap or a shampoo. I stayed in the market

Fiction: Group 4

for a long time, but nobody is buying my fish. I have no money that I earn today, but I need to go back now. The street is darker. No lights. I even can not see through well.

Abruptly, somebody covered my mouth from the back. I did not see that man well. I just remember that he was tall and his face was covered with a mask. I guess that man was the person who I borrowed money from. I was not able to defiance. I just been taken to a remote place. That man did something to my body, and my body became paralyzed and my eyelids got closed.

When I woke up, I was in a dark place which looks like a factory surrounded by some mans. My body was tied up tight with a rope. so I was not able to move. Then, one man started to beat me. Something taste metallic taste inside my mouth. I guess it was a blood. I kept got punched, and my body got drooped down with no power like a jellyfish. As I got beaten, everything looked opaque. Now my eyelids are getting heavier as there is something heavy above.

Fiction: Group 4

The Evolution of Dongguan Island School, Li, Ethan - 14, Fiction: Group 4

s a part of Guangdong province, Dongguan is a major manufacturing hub and industrial center for

foreign companies. Besides, it is well known for its stunning Southern Chinese Cuisine, such as Yum Cha and other dishes which require top skills.

My mom is a Dongguan resident, and she came to Hong Kong in the late 1940’s, few years after World War 2 to escape from communist rule. In World War 2, her life was not really tough, even though the

foreign Allies had occupied her hometown. My mom said, they exchange canned foods for rice with the villages. The allies were nice and friendly.

From 1960’s, because of the disastrous Great Leap Forward (1958-61) and Cultural Revolution (until 1976), this city was left with little or no infrastructure. Dongguan lacked basic food supply, as well as rice

and sugar. The humanitarian situation remained harsh until early 1980. My family visited Dongguan in Mid-July 1978, 2 years after Mao’s death. It was the first time I met our

relatives in mainland. “Where are we going?” I asked my mom. “We are heading to Dongguan, our family needs help.”

We took a train to the Luo Hu border, next to Shenzhen, ready to take a bus to the city. Our costumes were quite old fashioned, as if they were out of this world. They told us that majority of foods were short in

supply, as well as basic costumes. Each person wore 3 pairs of second-hand trousers and 4 T-shirts to the Royal immigration, along with few packs of grains and bottles of oil. No doubt to say, we were like

Penguins, waddling along. Buses to Dongguan were waiting for us. The overnight bus trip was tough, unpaved and dirty roads made us sick. However, uncomfortable chairs

and atmosphere didn’t affect our sleepiness. When we woke up, it was dawn and sun is ready to be risen. We were looking forward to the day, by the

warmth of the sun. Besides, it was just less than 20 kilometers to Dongguan. We had arrived Dongguan at 7:30am. Though I had expected the city view would not be as developed as Hong Kong, it still made me shock. Buildings were basic and ragged, with some gun shots left on the wall,

probably from continuous riots in the Cultural Revolution. Lots of beggars, some of them were even naked, were begging money for their living and family. We were feared to be robbed, even in daytime.

Public transport were not trustworthy, therefore we walked to my relative’s house, it took about 20 minutes. I thought their house must be enormous and elegant, because they were really rich in the 60’s.

Sounds cool right? No, they were humiliated by those extreme communist who whipped China in Mao’s rule. Something gross sprayed to their main entrance on an almost daily basis, and they were followed on the

street frequently. My mom mentioned that his cousin was beaten by gangsters and seriously injured few years ago.

So we have arrived my relative’s house. It was a Villa, with a gorgeous garden around the house. No one would ever expect that they were in need.

“Hi, love! How are you? Is everything ok? I have brought some foods and clothes for you all!” my mom said.

“Thank you very much my dear!! The state government here has imposed limitation on our daily needs. We are in the state of hunger since then.” her sister said.

“Oh no I am sorry to hear that. Maybe let’s have some Chinese Dim Sum in a restaurant somewhere nearby? We didn’t have any breakfast and my daughters are starving.”

I could still clearly remember that Chinese Restaurant was called The Glory Restaurant. It was a grand palace, with impressive statues around the hall. However, the food quality was disappointed. Because of the

food crisis, insanely amount of baking soda were used in Chinese Buns, in order to let the dough rise as

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much as it can. Buns tasted like bubble bath, and the texture was weird. To be honest, this was absolutely unacceptable for us, but I expected this situation.

Nowadays, Dongguan has evolved into a modern metropolitan. You are able to see tall and stylish buildings everywhere, the extraordinary night view attracts millions of travellers from all over the world too.

Furthermore, Hong Kong residents love to visit Dongguan to enjoy some traditional but rare Chinese dishes, as little chefs in Hong Kong can replicate them.

A infamous town in the past has developed into a Global City.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Island School, Mak, Quentin - 14, Fiction: Group 4

he tiny light of the lantern cast its gaze around me, as if searching for something it has lost. It illuminated my surroundings, which had been previously ensconced by the dark veil of night. I see myself, looking drab and defeated in my ragged garb, and I see the sampan I was on, who also

seemed to be plagued by its own troubles, worn and looking unseaworthy. It was only us upon the river; nobody would care if we were to be swept away and never be found again. How fitting. The breeze was chilly and unforgiving, stabbing daggers into my dry and flaked skin. I shrivel up, the cold too big of an enemy to fight. Where was the sun when I needed it, when I needed its warm embrace? Did it not pity me, a poor fisherman who had a family to feed, and a sick child to save? Yet at the same time I yearn for it, I beg it not to come, to leave me in the clutches of night a little longer. I needed the harsh, bitter cold, and the merciless, jet-black darkness to keep my fellow fishermen in bed, shivering and snuggling under their covers. The wind was not light on the skin, bringing with it the thick and creamy smog that came from the factories yonder. It clung me my body like a cloak, trapping me in its fold, forcing off huge drips of perspiration. I was sweating in the cold. I went to the back of my sampan, and retrieved my fishing net. The shaft was fashioned out of thick bamboo, and the net was meshed with strong twine. I grab hold of its dented shaft, and lifted it, muscles straining and back arching. My shoulders exploded into a blazing pain, and my bones creaked and groaned from the considerable effort. The sores and aches still hadn’t faded from last night, and I had put pressure on them. After the initial lift, the pain instantly subsided into a dull ache. I was used to it, and paid it no heed as I carried the net to the side of the boat. The boat wobbled precariously to one side, and I nearly fell down face first into the dark depths below. I quickly twisted and dropped myself down, pressing my body to the floor of the sampan. The boat steadied itself, and I stood up with shaky feet. Phew, that was a close call! I wiped the sweat from my brow, and lifted the net again with a herculean effort. I felt myself shudder, not from the exertion, but from the memory of the river water I came face to face moments ago. It yearned over me, a darkness so black that it looked quite like death itself. Maybe it was – nothing good ever came out of the river. The water was murky and frothy, covered with a thin film of oil and some unknown substances. Floating around, jutting out were bits and pieces of garbage and debris, probably from the factories and cities beyond. The sight revolted me, and more than that, it pummeled at my conscience – it was so dirty and so toxic, but I still fished here, feeding poison to others, slowly killing them. Was I a murderer? But if I didn’t fish here, where else could I fish? How would I earn money to support my family and cure my child from her sickness? All these rationalizations were tormenting, tearing me apart, and I had no way to drag away the guilt. Clearing my mind, I focused on the task at hand. With a practiced motion, I swept the net into the water against the tide, and kept it there, steady, waiting, patient. My muscles burned as the water came rushing in, trying to batter my net backwards and out of my grip. I kept the net there for a while, unaware of what lay inside due to the opaqueness of the water, and lifted it out, grunting with effort. It was heavy, weighty, which must mean that I have caught quite a few fish, or God forbid, a bundle of junk and trash. My hopes were dashed, as I opened my eyes that had been sewn shut to look at what lay before me. There were a few fish scattered here and there, diamonds in the rough, but the rest of the net was filled with litter and waste that stunk to high heaven. With a sigh, I sat down. It was supposed to be winter, and most fish should have come down here to migrate. But it wasn’t so bad – at least I caught fish. Yesterday, I only caught tiny little ones that nobody wanted. In fact, nobody wanted my fish. Nobody wanted OUR fish. Not fish from this river. The businessmen knew it, and so they exploited this opportunity. They devoured us, the hungry wolves they are. We go to the market in the predawn sky, hoping to sell out the fish we caught in the morning for a day’s money while they were fresh. Almost nobody buys them and customers and sellers at other stalls stare

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at us in pity while we sit, swatting at flies. When we are about to pack up and leave, the businessmen descend upon us, a flock of blood-hungry vampires. They know that we haven’t sold much fish; they know that we are desperate for money, and they know that we will sell the fish to them. No, not sell. Give. There eyes glint and gleam as they haggle the price down, taking pleasure in our plight. We stand there, unable to do anything, hands clenching in anger and frustration but hanging uselessly by our sides. They take away all the fish, load it into their trucks, and ship it all the way to the cities, where fish was in huge demand. Where nobody knew where it came from. The toxicity of the oily water below stung my eyes as I stood staring at it. Even with the light from my lantern infiltrating the deep depths below, I could not get a glance at what lay beneath. I only saw the dark rippling surface, staring at me blankly without emotions, keeping a stone solid poker face. It revealed nothing to me, and that allured me. What lay beneath the surface? What would I find? The water, it called to me, to escape the burdens and cumbersome responsibilities of life, to escape all the pain, all the hurt, all the suffering. Oh, what it would be like to lose myself in its languid grasp. I prepare myself to plunge into the waters below, one foot on the edge of the sampan, to escape from all the hardships of life, but I stop. The river, it no longer looks so placid, so welcoming. It now leaned forward, trying to gnash at me with its gaping maw. I shiver, step back, and all the memories, all the reasons of why I still needed to live flooded into me, slamming into me like a huge riptide. My worries and lamentations were dwarfed, and I berated myself for being so stupid. How could I ever have thought of suicide? How could I ever have thought of leaving my daughter behind to fend for herself? I quiver in shame, but quickly calmed myself down. I would make it up by catching more fish today, and so the brutal, unforgiving work continued on, until the tinges of red and scarlet colored the distant horizon. Today was no different than any other. Almost nobody bought our fish, and the businessmen swallowed the rest up. It was so repetitive, so boring, that my anger and rage at my predicament had dulled to a glowing ember from its raging fire. We could no longer curse the westerners, who poisoned and polluted the river, or utter invectives to the businessmen who took advantage of us. Time had worn us down. We say our farewells, bodies tired, eyes without soul, and head off, each to their own. It was a long walk from the market to my home. We lived in a little fishing village, a ramshackle of shoddily built houses made out of rusted out steel. I make it to the front steps of my house, the smallest and most decrepit out of all. My wife glares at me as I enter, blaming me for forcing her into destitution, and my daughter lies on a straw mat, eyes glazed over, looking at nothing, sick to the core. My daughter is dying. My wife resents me. Maybe I should have thrown myself into the river. What was the point of this miserable existence? What was the point of working myself half-dead to find nobody appreciated what I did? The harsh truth of reality rammed at my heart, and it finally shattered. Tears came down in torrents, and I collapsed onto the floor a broken man.

Fiction: Group 4

Pearl River Delta Island School, Ng, Karen - 14, Fiction: Group 4

trange density – the air is thick with voices. My chest is constricted, my heart is paused in rhythm and song is stopped in sense. There is a haze, and I am confused by the dimness above the grey...

Halt! Is there a lighter way to go? My hands fumble through my skin: I have been to the casinos, the memorial hall, the skyscrapers, the villages, the farms but oh! Not one is like this. Something grey enfolds me and I am boiling in the wind. The cars are flying past.

Here some years ago I lay in the sea, floating on the water cool and catching. It shone like the earliest times of the moon: dimmed by the stars beside, and like the vague gaze admist the purple sky...What stars are there to be seen now? And the wind was aloof – unaware, unknowing, untold of what was to come. Its change! Its demise – and how soon it came! A time cannot last so long until it is changed. The air is now tainted – it is foul and sunless, and the wind blows a cheerless blight at me, and I float – too aware of what is here and what is to come.

I think I have stopped breathing, but my heart remains alive...The fish swim towards a haven, but it is afar; away from me and me and me. Through my eyelids I see the village from whence I came – the wooden houses lined in chaos, the black hairs on my sister’s head covered by dust... The lands I walked on all are faint now. The once spry and pleasant is now overcome and claimed by this strange distant density, clouding our thinking, dyeing our due wonder and herding us into the sea...

I used to lie in this sea, with unbounded wonder crossing my eyes, waiting until the rainwater had filled my wooden pails. I would heft them on a stick – a stronger stick every day from the oak I planted a flower below every day. A gift for a gift...And I gave the oak a seed this time, because there are no more flowers around the Pearl River Delta... I reach out, my fingers lacing round crumpled paper. Red words, red faces – all a blur in my eyes as my mind cries and tries to grasp a memory...But my heart remembers too much! I feel pain in this peace...There were brown doors and paths joined by grass yellow and green and almost insubstantial...

A light scent roams me now and I am quietly startled – I look at the haven. I try to see it. I can only see its outline, and I am crying under the water...It is glowing, and the trees are growing taller as I stare. My heart slows. Their roots are beating to the north...

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New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Island School, Ngan, Dylan - 14, Fiction: Group 4

h, just rub your bottom on my head. It’s fine, old man. Oh and just go and step on my seat as well. Brilliant. I hate planes and I hate people.

“Excuse me sir, I sit here.” Great. Middle seat, just when I thought I could get away with it. I smile and move. How am I ever going to get to the toilet without touching another person? And which armrest is mine? People who design planes thought: three seats, three people, so, four armrests. That seems logical. And no entertainment, how am I ever going to survive without a distraction from the horrible people sitting next to me? Teach me how to put on a seatbelt, show me the nearest exits even if I could just see them with my own eyes, read the leaflet about the emergency procedures that hasn’t been read for ten years and covered in dust, with endless instructions. Yes, tell me the weather, tell me the temperature. Please. Just. Take. Off. I think I’m being stabbed in the ears. Chew. Chew. I don’t think mastication helps. I spit the gum into a piece of tissue. They should have a pressure torture chamber for criminals. “The seatbelt signal has been turned off, food and beverages will be served shortly.” I need the toilet. I can hold it no longer. “Sorry sir, can you move to the side? I need the toilet. Sir?” He’s asleep. And so is the man to the left. I am not going to touch them. No way is my skin coming into contact with that. I take the dust-covered leaflet and I poke him in the ear. “What? Hm. Ah?” “Sorry, um, can I please get out so I can go to the toilet.” “Huh?” “Toilet.” He moves his legs to the left. Am I supposed to shuffle through that gap? That space is for ants, not enough for legs and definitely not enough for me. Move, you lazy animal. How did we ever get this far as a species? Fine. Shuffle, turn, shuffle and I squeeze out. Before I even reach the toilet, I can imagine the way back. “The local time and weather is 9:00 am and sunny.” Local time? Of course it’s the local time, you think I wanted the time of South Africa? Why say more words than you need to? I’m just glad that we are here. The last destination, the final place to be in the Pearl River Delta and I am done. Shenzhen. Pearl River Delta, what a lovely name to describe some of the worst places I have been to. It is too hot, too noisy, too lousy and miserable. Who would want to come here? People audibly crackle in the heat as they walk past you. Why would you even need to cook in a place like this? Just put a piece of meat on the side of the road and watch as it bursts into flames.

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Nothing is worse that the sound of phlegm coming out of someone’s throat. I would rather stab out my eyes than watch another yellow ball of spit fly and splatter on to the road. It’s like a minefield here. I need a place to sit down, a place to work and finally finish what I came for. “We’ve turned the coffee machine off, breakfast hours have just finished.” As if there was nothing you could do! Turn it back on then! I smile, nodding. “ You have ice chocolate?” “Yes, no problem.” “And a chicken pie. Thank you.” I sit down, finally, some peace and quiet. I rest my head on the table. I pull out a book, removing the bookmark and start reading. “Your ice chocolate and pie. Careful, it’s quite hot.” I am a grown person. I think I know how to operate a plate. “Thank you.” “What you reading for?” What I’m reading for? Wow, that’s a really deep and philosophical question. I’ve only been asked what I am reading, but never the purpose. Maybe I’m reading because I don’t want to end up being a waiter in a lousy restaurant. “Just waiting for the food.” “Enjoy your meal, sir.” I take a sip through the straw. Flavourless. Argh! I catch the side of my lip. I wash it down with another suck of the straw. It’s like licking a cold metal pole, a mixture of metallic bitterness from the blood and the coldness from the ice. I look out the window. I lift my laptop screen. I open my document and I start writing. Whose idea was it anyway to write about the Pearl River Delta? Tap, tap, tap. Pearl River Delta, a region of wealth, prosperity and a salute to humanity’s success. Shenzhen. My job is to lie, to mislead, and to persuade people to come to places and have their dreams crushed and broken. You may think it’s great; I get to travel a lot; I get to see more and experience more about the world. Try spending most of your life on a transport in the air, eating disgusting food and facing disappointing realities. I’m tired of writing like this, using fancy vocabulary and filling my reviews with words that seem glamourous but nobody understands. I wish I could write a real review for once, a real evaluation on my experiences. But the reality is, this is my job and I’m paid to deceive.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Island School, Patel, Mohini - 14, Fiction: Group 4

irt. It travelled through the river; swam through the fish and hid quietly beneath the salt. The days the sun shone, green feathers appeared through the waters. And the beautiful colour of the sun would reflect a mix of orange and pink that used to fill the dark blue sky and colour the puffy

white clouds. But today it rained. The rain like drops of dust, splattered on my head as I staggered down the hills, trying to search for my boat. I am a poor fisherman. My small hut is located two miles north of the river. It wasn’t even a proper hut; made of mud, bamboo, sand and anything else my family could find. Everyday, I feed three fish to my family; my wife, my three children and myself. But nowadays, fish have become harder and harder to find. I perched myself on my dilapidated boat and stared at my shadow, pondering over the day’s events. My boat was buoyed by the waves as I tried to fish in vain. Silence. I looked around and found myself alone on the river. Only endless blue until the horizon. I remember the water being crystal clear and I could see miniature boats proudly sailing along glass-like water catching the breeze. A few other fishermen and I would wake up everyday at five in the morning to fish. It was a daily routine, a routine that became a part of our lives, and a routine that we patiently followed. But today there were no boats around. It was just me. I decided to continue looking for fish. I had no choice; otherwise my family would go to bed hungry tonight. My heart sank. I couldn’t leave my children starving. I bent my head and looked down. Then by the grace of God, I saw something. A yellow liquid permeated the water. I touched it. I knew what it was, shampoo. Yesterday, at the market everyone was whispering about it, about how shampoo has been found in the water. I never thought it was true though. I had been fishing for my whole life, and never found a single drop of dirt, until ten years ago. As the time passed by, the sky progressively became black, seeming to look like a void. I looked up in the sky trying to search for a star. But the sky was covered by a large amount of smoke, protecting it like a veil. The wind started picking up strength and the ghostly chill it brought seemed to replace my spine with a large chunk of ice, freezing my entire body. My thin coat had given up on me, given up on the fight having being outmatched by the hard breathing of the wind. The waves were much larger now, desperately reaching for my boat. The waves seemed to be telling me that I had to leave, that I had to go home. But there was no fish. I hadn’t even caught a single one. That night I went home with no food to feed my family. As I anxiously walked home, I couldn’t bear to think that my children were going to bed on an empty stomach. Sweat trickled down my forehead as my dry hands started to fill with moisture. “There will be no dinner tonight.” Those six words escaped my mouth before I knew it. I saw my wife’s eyes widened in shock. “No dinner. Why?” her voice hoarse and trembling. So I told her. I told her everything about the river being empty, how shampoo was leaked throughout parts of the river and that no single fish was found. Trails of tears rolled down her cheek, mucus trickled down her nose and her lips quivered. I would never forget that moment, that scared look on my wife’s face, the dejection I caused. The night went like a blur. Crying, hunger and tiredness. I remember tucking my children in. I could see them holding back the tears, the tears craving for food. The next day, the market was filled with crowds of people. The market was situated ten kilometers south from the river. I would cycle there every Saturday morning. Today, the sun was shining and a slight breeze blew across my face. The market was charged with bustling, busy people running around and shouting. Fisherman flocked to the market selling their fish. Locals come here for one reason only; to buy the fish. One stall, run by a man known as Lee Ho, spilled out his fish out on the wooden table. There was so many, I couldn’t even count. But where did he find the fish rom? It was just me today in the river, and I couldn’t find any.

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I walked over to Lee Ho. He was having a debate with a costumer. “This fish is very hard to find nowadays. It is a perfectly clean fish,” Lee Ho uttered. The same question kept slipping in my mind, where did he get it? I gathered up my courage and decided to go forward and ask him. Before I could say anything, he saw me and walked away. He didn’t even greet me. Lee Ho and I have been friends since I could remember. Our fathers were good friends, and would teach us how to fish every morning, together. Lee Ho was a very quiet and kind hearted person with a calm personality. He was always respectful and obedient. But today it seemed as though something wasn’t right. I continued walking to his stall, even though he wasn’t there, and saw the numerous amounts of fish lying there silently on the table. Fish painted with different shades of silver and grey, showing no sign of stains or chemicals. Where did he get all this fish? My view was then blocked by a small, tiny map that looked as though it had been found over fifty years ago. Its colour was a dirty brown, with red lines decorating it. “This is the key to the fish,” whispered Lee Ho.

Fiction: Group 4

River Spirit of the Pearl River Delta Island School, Roy, Prerna - 14, Fiction: Group 4

ve always wondered why I’ve preferred going to here of all places, everyone else was at rooftop parties whilst I sit here, staring at the stunning ripples of this river. A couple of long slabs of rocks zigzagged in every direction, the beach I arrived from just in view. My breath hitches when I

observe the area around me, the water glistens and the waves crashing are music to my ears. The Pearl River felt like home to me. I sprawled myself across the rocks and let myself think of everything. I rode my bike here. The long bike ride, the rock climbing, all just to see this gorgeous area in front of me. But there was something about this place that just had a different feeling… the saltwater smell would bother most people, but to me it smells so powerful, the way it startles your senses was something I craved. I had not been lost in my thoughts for long when I feel a shift in my peaceful atmosphere. I am no longer alone. Out in the distance I saw a patch of water that glistened more than the rest, so shiny it felt like I was blind. I peered despite the blaring light, and soon enough I saw a figure approaching me. My breathing quickened as she made her way towards me, I do not know who she is. I do not know what she is, when I first saw her she didn’t have this sort of figure, she looked like an average woman with crazy hair volume. She stopped only a few metres away from where I was sitting on the rocks, and tilted her head and examined me, and then she must have confirmed I was the one she intended to talk to. She got close enough for me to see her features. She was not human, she had no legs but instead a fish tail, and her hair was vibrant and blue, with green eyes full of worry. I noticed blotches of dark stains on her pale skin. I had no thought process as I asked her question after question. She did not answer any of them. Instead she simply took hold of my hands and pulled me into the water, and told me I will see the answers for myself. I awaited the sensation of drowning, but it never came, I was in a bubble and she guided me. She turned to me and confirmed she’s not a human, but the river spirit of the Pearl River Delta. I asked her why she bought me here, but instead she takes my hand and sets off at hyper speed deep into the waters. I hadn’t felt any change in pressure. As we went on, both of us started wheezing and coughing. My eyes burnt. The water was blackening, a blanket of oil spills and pollution, and I noticed my tanned skin has black slashes across it. We finally stopped, taking harsh deep breaths for a while. The waters all around were murky, and I could see a layer of poisoned fish and other river spirits at the bottom. My heart sunk. She told me that there were not many left of her kind; they had been killed off by the pollution that surrounded us, went into other waters. She she was hardly surviving. My heart anchored itself to this riverbed, and I promised her that I would find a way to fix this. She smiled sadly, clutched my hand and led me back to the surface. My clothes weren’t even damp when I resurfaced. She waved a goodbye, and shimmered away back into the waters. I took a second to collect my thoughts about the Pearl River Delta’s river spirit; she showed me a light into the dark future of the river if we continued polluting it. I think it was time I had a chat to the Hong Kong fishermen. I yelled out to the fishermen snoozing on the ledges of their boats, it was early in the evening. A couple came out on the docks and gave me looks of ignorance and irritation. After I had ranted about my findings, I even mentioned seeing the river spirit, they each looked at one another and laughed about how I shouldn’t be so naïve, that river spirits were an old myth that they use to tell children to put children to sleep so they

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would have something to dream of. I wasn’t a child. I was almost a fully-grown woman, at seventeen years old. If they will not stop harassing the river, then I will make them. In the absolute dark of the night, when there wasn’t a single soul awake I did the unbelievable. I had collected every large rock I could hold from one end of the beach to the other end, tied them in a sac and knotted it against a pole on the docks and jumped in. With struggle, I shoved plenty of rocks into the boat exhausts. I even stuffed a couple more for the fishermen that gave me the most attitude. When the sun was dimly lighting up the sky, I hauled myself up and noticed a shimmer in the waters again. In the blink of an eye, I was dry, warm and energetic again. I looked at the shimmer and whispered a small thank you. I ran back home and prayed for the river spirit that my plan worked. If it did not work, then it would blow my cover that I had tried my best to put up. Who knows what they would do not just to me, but also to the rest of my family? To the river? An angry knock came at the door next morning, my mother clearly offended at the lack of respect our visitor showed. Six of the fishermen came in and pointed fingers at me, while I blankly stared on, my mother argued with them. They accused me of the things that I actually had done, making their boat exhausts splutter and die, but I kept my poker face on with confidence, and my mother aided my argument as I calmly told them I had absolutely no clue what happened to their boats. When the disgruntled fishermen had finally left, I hopped upstairs with a big grin plastered on my face. When I looked out of the view of the river from my window, I saw the glistening and shimmering and heard a soft whisper of gratitude. I closed my eyes and let her know this was only the beginning of my mission to help the Pearl River Delta.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Island School, Saunders, Ethan - 14, Fiction: Group 4

soft, calming voice whistled through the trees, calling the leaves and stray petals to flutter down to the ground at the behest of the wind. Just as softly, cold fingers stretched across the fisherman's back and lay there, letting the normally harsh winter wind slowly seep into his body until he was just as

cold as the water he hunted in but far less angry. Ripples pulsed outwards from his bobbing lure like the call of his bait; summoning the tiny bounty of small fish to gather around his boat. The fisherman had long before fallen half to sleep listening to the lullabies of the water and the wind united in their fleeting romance. On such a day fishing would prove mostly fruitless and few tasty prizes would be brought home, but this did not stop the man from indulging his daily habit of waiting for the next tiny disturbance so that his rest afterwards would be all the more soothing. Today was no exception, with each tiny tug at his line he would suddenly spring to action in the blink of an eye, the snap of a finger, executing his strategy to remove the hungry fish from its home. Years of experience and times of necessity had long ago worn away his discomfort at stealing away a small creature from its river habitat so he could kill it, further adding to the almost monk-like meditative state he resided in now. Not a thing but the collapse of the sky itself would wake him from his self-invoked trance and that was exactly how he preferred to fish. Unfortunately for his calm state of mind, it lived within a mortal body of flesh and blood, both hungering for heat and the comforting token of a warm meal in a well-worn chair. A warm meal was the best he could hope for, with the winter as it was at this time, but to remain here would be an even worse situation for heat and for the continuation of his life. The next day swept away the night sky far too late, leaving the fragile man to shiver and tremble in the grasp of winter's sadistic side for longer than he would wish for; a new day meant another trip out onto the river where the slow currents could wash away his discontent and resentment of the biting cold until the next night. The cycle repeated itself each night until the New Year rolled in, with each night growing more cruel and more laborious than the last until its crescendo at the longest night of the year, the solstice. Slowly, his contempt for the starry blackness above his home began to curl up for the coming months, much the same as a flower tightening around itself in protection against the winter. His trips onto the water were increasingly long and the trophies he brought back gave more to those warm meals he enjoyed and soon the spring arrived, carrying only a slight nip of cold with it where the winter had brought a full bite. With warmer water rushing by every day, he was able to swim and to bathe in the river, provided he ignored the increasing numbers of debris and trash that would often frequent the bank as the icy dams of the winter let the jagged edges of plastic and metal that would float or drag through the riverbed. His catch grew to a steady number just an increment more than he needed for his complaining stomach, though something felt wrong, something was just not quite right. The soft voice that would greet him every morning and the hands that would rustle his hair and the branches above him had grown weak, a sickly groan rather than a vibrant hum. In many blinks of an eye, it was summer. The leaves on the trees caught hold of the sunlight and rode it up onto the tree branches once more to bathe in its hot hue. Small creatures scurried up from their burrows and onto their arborous stage where their chirps and squeaks created a strange opera of nature's charm. Odes to the coming of lovely summer rang out through every inch of the river and his line drew armies of aquatic animals to his joyful company. Peace seemed the battlecry for the inhabitants of the river; the fisherman almost forgot the sickness in the air. Fall came to the dismay of the now spindly trees around his little home, but he took a quiet pleasure in it all. Silence and stillness mixed with the stirring of the rivers waters to create a beautifying potion for the world. All seemed lovely, all seemed so perfectly combined that if not for that unnatural, undead aura that permeated the wind and water. Their passionate romance seemed to drift apart into hidden glares and resentful whispers as they grew more and more unhealthy. This unsettling despair seemed to strike everything it touched in some way, sneaking into the crevasses and pores of every bit of life that dared poke its head out of the dirt. Even the fisherman felt it, but his calm mind and still thoughts kept worries or stresses at bay; he knew they would wash away in the waters of the river just as all the others had.

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Winter brought in those angry, cruel winds once more. The lashes of wind against his frailer body brought silent screams of agony from his bones and his blood would have boiled if it had not been nearly frozen solid. Despair and illness crept through his windows as he slept, into his dreams and resting body to increase itself each day. Soon his every step elicited a scream from his body, a sentiment seemingly felt by the waters as well. When previously the inky blackness of the night sky would be seen only at night in the waters, oily sheens could now be found in the day too. The fish reacted with disgust at the decaying rivers, fleeing it to other areas or giving up suffering in the black treacle of the slow currents into the bittersweet release of death. Days would pass where the aging angler would become so incurably weak that his routine was halted by days bedridden, where lack of food made him all the weaker the next time sickness struck. The cloudless skies he would see above him became stained with the burnt offerings to some sick master upstream as did his lungs. His breaths grew more and more difficult as what were once telltale signs of something 'off' became immediate signs of time running out. The last outing was set for seventeen days after the year became another, when he knew he could sustain himself no longer. Days trickled by until the final he would experience came about. His preparations for leaving were simple and brief. A tidy home left for his spirit when it escaped. A comfortable bed made in his optimistically small fishing boat. A fishing rod to let his beloved escape guide him gently into oblivion. The sun glimmered weakly on the river's surface, not as lovely as it once had when the man and the water were young, but it fought to give that slight condolence to the lost lives of the times past. The boat bobbed off into the river that day, carrying the forever resting body of the fisherman.

Fiction: Group 4

The Peral River Delta Island School, Shetty, Disha - 14, Fiction: Group 4

ll of the villagers have nothing left to sell. We have no income. The fish do not get sold in the market anymore because we are told they still taste like shampoo. Our crops do not grow well because they are poisoned by the acidic water. Our families are starving and our children are dying.

Hunger congests our stomachs and thirst burns our throats. We have nothing. I grab my net, the rough weaves softly graze my back as I sling it over my shoulder. I watch my footsteps as I open the door bit-by-bit, hoping not to wake the children up. I step outside into the cold air, where the wind whispers secrets of the river to me as it brushes my face. I stand still for a few seconds to watch dawn seeping down from the mountains. But this paradise of mine is soon crushed. The stench of garbage has taken over the air. The sordid smog gradually swirls into the once beautiful, orange sky and takes its throne in the clouds. The sound of my feet plodding through the mud wakes a swarm of insects and sends them scattering out from their homes. I head towards my fishing boat, parked on the side of the river, the blue and red designs that my children painted are now fading away to reveal the umber woodwork underneath. I place my palms on the back of the boat and push it into the river. It rubs against the pebbles on the ground and creates a rattling sound before it splashes into the water. I throw my net on and then jump into the boat. I pull the oars out of the resting places and use it to push the boat away from the muddy shore. As I paddle, the calm water laps at the sides of the oars and the boat, pleading for life. The plants have started to rot on the sides of the river. The fish slowly float to the surface, dead. There is nothing left in this river aside from the trash that is polluting our lives. What was once a lustrous cascade of blue and green is now a liquidised landfill. Every morning I set out into the river, hoping to catch at least one dainty fish. I drop the bait in and cast out my net, but all that comes out is more dead, rotting, shampoo-tasting fish. In the lively river that used be, I can now hear nothing. No birds swooping down gracefully for breakfast. No other fishermen laughing and chatting. No smooth water slipping out of my hands. All that is left is me, waiting. My children always say to me, “Daddy, when I grow up, I want to be just like you – a fisherman” and, “When I grow up, I will catch the biggest fish for dinner every night”. But they do not know what is in store for them. They do not know how hard their lives will be. Unless we can prevent the situation from getting any worse. Unless we do something. I remember those times those people came in, wearing huge suits and carrying glass tubes. I trod over our fields and tested our waters. They claimed our water was acidic, unhealthy and over-polluted. What could we do though? We have no money to solve this. How will we fix this? These people have not helped us in any way. They just told us what we already know and then walked away. I know my children can do something about this. They can solve this. They are smart. They will bring us back our good days and they will bring us back our happiness. I don’t know how but they will.

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Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Island School, Simon, Jonathan - 14, Fiction: Group 4

t happened again. The slanted, tired eyes of a child who knows nothing better, bedridden once again. The stale stench of sickness is always thick in the air. If only my children had healthy food to eat, or fish that doesn’t constantly make their insides groan. It’s a dark time. Sickness and death being an everyday

norm. The cries and wails of a baby are heard all the time. Even the babies know the truth. They can tell that all the food is poison. Eat and become sick. Don’t eat and die. There is no choice. A life of misery, or no life at all. I live in a humble community of families who have been supporting each other for decades. We’ve been fisherman for generations. The river is our food and our life. Even as I sit here, my rod clutched steadily between my calloused palms as I perch on the edge of the bank. I wonder how life could have changed so much. I wonder if the happiness died with our food. It’s unnaturally quiet. Other than the sounds of the running river water, nothing can be heard. No birds tweeting, no chirping crickets, just this deafening silence. There were times when a whole orchestra of sounds could be heard from this spot. Sounds from the creatures living here, the animals and the insects. They’re gone now. Everything’s sick. Or dead. A brief glance at the sun shows me it’s late; I need to get back home. I start to reel my rod in, disappointed at the lack of a catch. As I slowly get up, a wave of nausea rushes over me. The world shakes, and pain sears through my body. Fishing rod thrown to the dusty ground, I fall on my hands and knees. Heavily coughing as I clutch my stomach. I grimace as I vomit out rancid dark red blood, mixed with last night’s dinner. “Not this again” I think as my insides are emptied out. It’s an ugly sight, a patch of glistening red among the fallen leaves. My hand shakes as I reach for my fishing rod and bucket, leaning on a nearby tree as I get up once again. I set off for home, turning my back to the silent and desolate river. It’s as quiet as a graveyard as I arrive outside my home; I leave my bucket and fishing rod next to the door as I dip my head under the low doorframe and head in. A wave of acrid smells hit my face as I enter the small room. The bright noon sunlight streams through a small window in the corner of the room, colliding with the small specks of dust. My family is in another corner of the packed room, near a table. I see my wife gently patting our daughter’s back as she raises her head while in a coughing fit. My wife sighs as she looks into my empty hands. “Nothing again?” she asks. I silently shake my head as I take my place at the table. Our meager lunch is neatly placed on the table. I frown at the sight and smell of the food. Strange streaks of purple and pink are evident on the side of the fish. What little food the community can catch smells of chemicals and tastes like shampoo. I hear a loud knocking on the door as I’m about to start eating. My wife gestures for me to get the door. I exhale in exasperation as I go to open the door. It’s my neighbor Chen. “Come quickly! There are people who know about the bad fish!” he pants. His eyes seem to bulge out of his face as he bends over panting. Without a word to Chen, I run back in the house and tell my wife where I’m going. Picking up my boots from their place near the wall, I hurry after Chen who has already started walking. They’re an eerie sight. Arms crossed, silently standing on the bare ground. Just in front of a row of dead leafless trees. Wearing goggles, rubber gloves and protection suits. Chen says these are Greenpeace scientists. They’re investigating the water quality of the Pearl River. As the scientists start to speak, my mood rapidly becomes darker as the truth is revealed. Arsenic. Mercury. Lead. Endless lists of metals and poisons. Death and starvation. The truth scares me. The overcast sky seems gloomier; a cold wind batters my frail body. Goosebumps form all over my arms and

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Fiction: Group 4

neck. My family is slowly but surely dying. We’re wood on fire. Burning as we die out. My body is a walking chemical factory. The poison has taken root deep within, my liver is overwhelmed. Horror floods through me as I remember my daughter, who’s been living on poison from the moment she started her horrible life. Fear is seeping out of every single pore in my body as I think about her sickness. Chen thanks the scientists, as I impatiently pace the ground. My footsteps loudly thud against the floor as I hurriedly walk home. I say goodbye to Chen as I quietly open the door. My wife has fallen asleep next to my daughter, who is also asleep. Carefully I lift my daughter’s wrist and check her pulse. It’s like a fluttering butterfly, weak and fast. I think back to her previous illnesses. They only lasted a few days. This bout of sickness has lasted for over 2 weeks. Something isn’t right. I try to convince myself that I’m wrong. All the talk of chemicals has just made me extra cautious. Skipping the noon meal and the hurried walking has exhausted me. I quietly step into the bedroom and fall on to my bed, entering a deep sleep. I feel a hand grabbing my shoulder, shaking me. I force my eyelids open, blinking the sleep out of my eyes. I immediately see a tanned, worn face directly in front of me. It’s Chen. Lines of worry crease his face as he continues to shake me, telling me to wake up. I groan as I slowly sit up. Chen starts talking, I don’t fully understand what he’s saying, my mind is still half asleep. A sentence stands out in my mind “Asleep for 2 whole days, your daughter-“ I’ve been asleep for so long. I need to check on my family, something must be wrong with my daughter. I throw myself out of the bed, scrambling out of the room. What I see will be stained in my memory forever. It’s a scene from a horror film. They’re the nightmares of a victim of war. I see my daughter, unmoving on the ground. My wife covered in scarlet red blood. I can see where it came from, a wound near her wrists. Both of them lie completely still. Lifeless. Their hearts are still, the life gone from their bodies. Leaving behind empty carcasses. “Your daughter died.” Chen says, directly behind me. His shoulders slumping and gaze downcast as he speaks. “When you wouldn’t wake up, your wife thought you had died as well. She killed herself and left a note.” The blood makes sense now. I can imagine where it must have bubbled out after she cut her wrists, watching with despaired, pained eyes as her own life ebbed away. I can’t take this. My family gone? The scientists were right. I throw the door open, running barefoot outside. Sharp stones and an assortment of other objects prick the bottom of my feet. It’s raining, the dreary weather perfectly describing my mood. Tears run down the side of my face, mixing in with the rain. I run. I run till I can’t run anymore. Heavily panting and dripping with a mixture of sweat rain and tears. A bolt of lightning briefly illuminates the dark sky. A sharp pang of hunger comes from my stomach as my body tells me I haven’t eaten in three days. I’m weak from hunger, collapsing into a muddy puddle with a loud splash. Droplets of water fly into the air, scattering around me. The sky is spinning. Why is it spinning? My head throbs and my limbs uncontrollably spasm. Rain pelts my face as I stop moving, and lay completely still. I hear rain patter onto me as I look up at the sky. Black dots appear on the edge of my vision. The world is fading from me. I’m tired; I just want to sleep. My eyelids close as I exhale for the last time. There is nothing. After all I’ve been eating poison to survive. This is expected. My last flame of life desperately tries to stay lit. But the rain is too much. The flame flickers. And goes out.

Fiction: Group 4

What I am Then and Now Island School, Sloane, Rachel - 14, Fiction: Group 4

feel dead. Though, I’m not, I still feel like it. Nothing lives here anymore. It’s all black or brown. Forgotten memories swirl through my waters like everything else bad. Lost lives, plastic bags and dead bodies of what was the remaining life in me float aimlessly down. I have been abused. I felt it even

before it started. Life. I was full of life. The rainbow-coloured fish swam in my waters, ever so happy. My waters were teeming with corals of every colour and all kinds of water plants. The water lilies and the lotus flowers were my favorite flowers, and they still are. The people who had based their livelihoods by my waters lived in peace. I felt so loved. Everyone lived in harmony by my waters. Life was plentiful and blooming. The trees, oh the trees, were just beautiful and full of fruit and flowers. The leaves were sparkling on the sunlight. Beautiful. The people did do some fishing but there were never too many people. Over fishing was never a problem. I was the most important water source in all of Southern China, I was so proud. I felt so happy and in harmony with the people and the rest of nature. The people loved me and their lives had always revolved around me, the crashing waves during storms to the calm gentle lapping of cool water during the summer’s heat. This peace seemed to live on forever as the years, decades, passed. That is all I hoped for. It would not last. I knew it couldn’t when the grey smoke appeared more and more in the sky above me. Starting. At first it was harmless because there was only one chimney. But then the pollution came from the never-ending growth of the factories. The factories started to bleed sewage into me. It was horrifying. More and more of them started to build and take up residence near me. I got so scared. Horrified, even. Fearful. Factories are horrid things! It got worse. So much worse. The early settlers left first. The air was getting very bad for them because of the smoke that was being created directly opposite from where they lived. If the air was bad, the noise was dreadful. The low rumbling, groaning and moaning of the strained machines were constantly assaulting ears of innocent humans. Every now and then there would be a high-pitched scream of the worn metal. Stop! Featureless is the best word to describe the factories. They are made from brick and concrete. The concrete goes unpainted, so it leaves the building looking like a big block of greyness. The grime, dust and dirt cling onto the walls of these factories. The big, black cloud of smog that bursts out of the chimneys goes up into the air and slowly makes its way down and back onto the factory that created it before infecting the surrounding areas, as it would creep slowly around pushed by the wind. Gone. The surrounding nature! It was once my beautiful paradise, it’s no longer. The once gorgeous tress with shining leaves, are now dead and plastered with grey. Even the embankment is grey and dying. No flowers bloomed now. The sky is a deep grey, and it is set to remain that way forever. A constant reminder of what should have, never have been allowed to happen. Forgotten. The boats are driving me mad! They are constantly going up and down, up and down to get to container ports. These big boats loaded with shipping cargo go around to different ports and it is extremely maddening! Alone. The fish, oh how I miss the fish! There are none left here. No reminder of how much I had, only of what little I have left. No fish not even dead ones are still lurking in the shadows in my currents. The once ever-so colourful corals are no-where to be seen. My water looks appalling! It mainly depends on what section you are in defines the colour you’ll see. At one point, the water was blue. No, not the clean blue or the deep-sea blue, but a very dirty polluted blue. Another part has the water looking like a charcoal milkshake

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Fiction: Group 4

with extra plastic. The most common colour, though, is a muddy brown. The waste pipes were tainted the same grimy colour as the waste is spurted out. Abused. This pollution is over-whelming me. I didn’t think that I could last this long but as long as there is water, I am still here. No one ever comes here to visit me anymore. I used to be so loved and cared for. But know, I am rejected. Uncared for. Dead.

Fiction: Group 4

The Fishing Village Island School, Tse, Tiffany - 14, Fiction: Group 4

s the morning sun slowly rose up to the sky, the people of the village started to prepare for their day. Fishing boats were being checked, loaded with baits like little pink earthworms and nets were being mended. The strong group of fishermen of the village said a quick goodbye to their families,

untied the boats from their posts and were off to their daily fishing trips. As the day went on, children started to run around the sparkling golden shore, enjoying the warmth of the sun. Women sat on their front porches; knitting clothes for the upcoming winter and watching the children play their game of tag. A fishing net hammock was stretched and tied to two trees, it swayed gently as a cool morning breeze softly cascaded the little girl’s calm face. She seemed to be deep in thought as she was oblivious to the shouting and screaming of other children. Perhaps she was thinking about how perfect the location of the village was. There was the beach with sand as smooth as silk, and they had rich fertile land not far from the beach, leading to the tallest mountains you could ever imagine. These mountains were famous for a trail called “the dragon’s back” that allowed people to walk across the top of the mountains and see not only the whole village but even nearby islands. The sight was simply magnificent. But the forest that led to that trail was not a common place for the villagers to be in, for it was said to be haunted, different tales were told about the strange creatures that dwelled within it. Everything in the village was running smoothly but that was before someone made an unexpected discovery. A group of children had found an enormous egg in the forest while exploring areas near the village. It was John who they called to investigate this egg because he was the hero of the village because he once wrestled with a bear to protect the village. The children drew a map for John, stating the description, route and the exact location of the egg. John followed a map drawn by those children and was led into the forest, he was starting to feel uneasy about exploring the foreign forest, for even he had never dared to venture into it. As he went further into the forest, it got darker and dimmer as sunlight was blocked by the tall, leafy trees. Even as the bravest man of the village, John, was starting to feeling scared, he does not know what to expect for the unknown dwelled within these gloomy shadows. He stopped for a while and prayed to God that the children's map was accurate and that he was not truly lost. And there it was, the huge brown coloured egg rested among a cluster of leaves and twigs on the ground, leaning onto an old Pine tree. The trunk of the tree was very rough and it was twisted in weird angles. There were even several holes with black slime oozing from it, indicating that it was infected. He had no idea what the egg contains, it could be either a big feast for the village or a big threat. He took the egg and returned to his home and family. News has spread in the village that John had brought back the egg and was going to figure out the origin of the egg and once again save the village. The villagers were very thankful for that as they brought all kinds of gifts like trays of dried salted fish to John’s home. After that, everything was just as normal as it usually is, nothing was out of the ordinary. The sun slowly dipped into the dark blue sea and its reflection was like a never-ending gold path to the other side of the world. The sky was a gradient of warm colours with already a bit of blue and the clouds that were hovering near the sun were splashed with colours like pink and red with even hints of purple, they were like sacred steps to heaven. John rested in his leather armchair, smoking on his pipe every now and then, creating rings of smoke. He was deep in thought when his wife came and brought him his jasmine tea, he put down his pipe, sipped on his tea and examined the egg with his wife. His wife was one of the most educated women in the village, but even she didn’t know of any creature that could lay such a big egg. They were still discussing when a loud crash was heard and bells were rung. One, two, three, four… Four bells were rung... That means death, something very bad was happening to the village. He took an oil lamp and went outside to check what was happening.

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Fiction: Group 4

The air was getting very humid and hot, smoke was arising from neighbouring houses. People were screaming and running, dogs were barking, bamboo weaved baskets littered the ground along with the day’s catch of seafood, it was a complete chaos. There was a huge gush of wind and John was almost swept off his feet, he looked above and saw a terrifying sight. There was a living, breathing fire dragon circling the village from above. It must be the mother dragon finding her egg, thought John, only a mother could be so protective over her unborn child. The dragon was dark burgundy coloured, its scales looked shiny and hard like a amour, as it reflected the light from the burning village. People tried finding the egg that was in John's house but the house had already collapse from the fire. The elders of the village were summoned to the town square and had a quick meeting. It was decided, the villagers were weak and helpless against the mighty fire breathing dragon, the village was no longer safe. They were going to leave the village in hope of finding a new home and perhaps come back to claim this land when they know that there is no longer a threat. Fishing boats were loaded with food and clothing; children, women and elderly were the only ones to go on the boats as the men stayed behind to fight the dragon. The people shared multiple hugs and lots of tears were shed but what has to be done, has to be done. As the boats slowly drifted away, the men of the village stood on the shore and waved. When they couldn't see the boats anymore, John lead the men back into the village, they had one mission to accomplish and that was to slay the intimidating dragon. After a few centuries, the story of the fishing village was long forgotten, John was probably dead. Did John succeed? Did the people of the village come back as they promised to rule the land once again and return it to its glorious days? No one knows. But we do know that a new city was born with skyscrapers blooming everywhere, the simple wooden fishing boats are taken over by fancy shiny cars and electric powered luxurious boats. People from around the world migrated to this lush land to have a new experience, to start a new life. This land is none of the ordinary, it stands out because it is special, it is full of surprises and full of life. And this land is called Hong Kong.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Island School, Vishweshwar, Vedika - 14, Fiction: Group 4

y name is Meimei Chan. I am an eighteen-year-old training to become an Olympic swimmer. This is my story.

I grew up in a small village called Tin Ha, around two hundred miles away from the epicentre of the Pearl River Delta. My background was modest; my father worked in a toothbrush factory in Zhuhai, and he managed to scrape enough money every week to send my sister and I to school. My mother passed away giving birth to my sister, so I took over the maternal duties in our house when I was ten. Every morning, I woke up at dawn to make a meagre breakfast for my family, rice mixed with scanty portions of milk, sugar if we were lucky. Then I cleaned the house with our single riddled cloth, washed our shrunken, begrimed clothes and prayed to our ancestors for good fortune to come our way. But I encountered the most difficult part of my day once I came back from school; fetching the water. The water in the river was contaminated by industrial waste and people alike; drinking it would only cause your faeces to become runny like paint. So I had no choice but to make a perilous journey across the Xi Jiang River to fetch government water from a nearby town. I hated the boat rides. On good days, I would be able to taste bile at every rock of the boat and prayed that it wouldn’t slip out of my mouth. On bad days, torrents of rain would pour down from the skies and I would feel like I was drowning, even though I wasn’t in the water. But on one such day, I was in the water, and I was drowning. Hurricane Vamei lashed out at the Pearl River Delta, trampling our village like an elephant standing on a mouse. Violent streaks of lightning illuminated the skies, accompanied by the delayed, deafening claps of thunder. I was on the boat, returning to the village with my water when the hurricane caught me off guard. It began with a dainty drizzle, intensified into a steady downpour and finally into cascades of rain that fell like spears, all in a matter of minutes. The boat quaked feverishly from side to side, the enraged river threatening to sink us at any moment. I had an iron-like grip on the boatman’s wrist and hung on for dear life, desperately hoping that my ancestors would choose to be merciful that day. Lightning struck our boat. The impact rocketed me out of the boat into the plundering waters, electrocuting every cell in my body. Spluttering and choking, I desperately tried to keep myself afloat, but despite living an hour from the river, I had never learned to swim. I felt myself swallowing mouthfuls of water, my lungs bursting for air that never came. My arms and legs thrashed wildly in the futile hope that they would find something to grab, but they only found incessant waters that slipped through my fingers. The last thing I remembered was my body failing me - energy spent, muscles unresponsive and all attempts to breathe aborted. So I closed my eyes and let the water lure me to its depths. My eyes snapped open. A familiar face leaned over me. The boatman. I lurched over to one side to release the water from my ears but the bile from my stomach was released instead. Now I could finally breathe. Ignoring the stench, I took deep, heavy breaths, cherishing every second of every inhalation. In, out, in out. Air had never felt this good. But as I lay in my pool of vomit, I had forgotten about the boatman. I glanced at him and he gratefully took the opportunity to the launch into the speech that he had obviously prepared. “You nearly died.” He exclaimed “Uhhh” I croaked. I couldn’t manage speaking yet. “But don’t worry. I save you. You sink very very deep in water but I swim very fast and pull you out. You should say thank you. I save your life. I nearly died myself but you are young girl, just like my daughter, so I save you.” “Oh.” Only then did I realise the magnitude of what had just happened. I could have died. My sister would be all alone. She would have to fetch the water by herself. She is too young to even tell their left from right. How can she be tasked with not only her survival, but my father’s as well? No, I cannot leave them. They are my

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Fiction: Group 4

responsibility. I am their mother now. I have to do whatever I can to protect them. Even if that meant learning how to swim. I first stepped back into the river a week later after the accident. Mustering the courage to venture back into the waters had been an arduous task, but I concentrated on the thought of my sister and steeled my nerves. I had to do this. I cautiously lowered myself into the cool, crystalline waters and submerged my head, but the memories came flooding back and my throat closed up in anxiety and fear. I could see the lightning again, refracting in my eyes as it ejected me from the boat. I could feel the seemingly salubrious water engulfing my lungs and the sense of panic that was accompanied by a choked windpipe. But, above all, I could feel the familiar deluge of hopelessness and surrender washing over me, habitually murmuring in my ear that I was doomed to fail. I abruptly resurfaced, taking in short, raspy breaths, trying to calm myself. I had to fight this. If I wanted to learn how to swim, I had to overcome this. I had no choice. I submerged my head again and managed to do a few awkward, ungainly strokes before resurfacing to gasp for air. I tried again and again, my following attempts always as fruitless as my last. Disheartened and dismayed, I returned home in a sour mood, but I couldn’t escape to my bed without Father’s words of supposed wisdom about perseverance. “不能一口吃成胖子” You can’t get fat on just one mouthful. So I returned to the river everyday to claim my next mouthful, determined get fat. And one day, I finally did. From one lap to the next, from one bank to the other. One lap took about THIRTY minutes, but I finally did it. I was overjoyed! Ecstatic! Euphoric! I was finally fat (as Father put it when I told him)! This was my battle, and I emerged victorious. When I returned home, according to protocol, I was congratulated by another spout of Father’s sagacity. But it was in English this time, presumably because he didn’t have enough time to ponder over Chinese equivalent. “There is no greater achievement than conquering your fears Meimei. You have done well. But don’t stop now. Don’t let the fire burn out. Continue to feed it wood until it becomes unstoppable.” In that moment, I felt an overwhelming love for my father. His everlasting support and compassion for me has been “the wood to my fire” as he would have said. I don’t know what I would have done without him. I stood up and put my arms around him. He stiffened for a moment, obviously expecting my usual monotone reply, but then reciprocated. It was a nice family moment. As always, I took Father’s advice and continue to feed my fire (ironically by immersing myself in water). I began swimming at least once a week, regardless of my school and household duties. But however much I swam, getting into the water was always the most difficult part. I would stand on the banks for ten minutes or so, assessing the weather and pondering the temperature of the water. Then I would tentatively begin to remove my clothes, shielding myself from prying eyes with banana leaves. The moment where I actually had to swim would then arise, but I would vacillate for a little longer, letting my toe linger in the water before I convinced myself to dive in. But once I was submerged, my embargoes would evaporate and I would surprisingly enjoy it. I enjoyed the touch of the cool water against my skin and the accompanied rejuvenation. I enjoyed opening my eyes underwater and observing the minute forms wildlife who were unaware of an intruder in their presence. Above all, I enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment after I’d swum from one bank to another. My heart would swell with happiness, almost as if it intended to breach the safety of my ribs and break out of my chest. A smile would inevitably play on my lips and I would occasionally even erupt in giggles. This is what made swimming so special. On my sixteenth birthday, Father gifted me a waterproof watch, so I could time my laps and calculate the distance that I’ve swum. He worked overtime for months to save up for that watch, carefully avoiding my questioning. At that moment, I realised my dream. I was as clear as Ye Shiwen on what I wanted to do. I turned to my dad, the brand new watch still glinting in my eye, and said “爸爸我相当游泳员”. I want to become a professional swimmer. Tears of joy pooled in his eyes and they swam down his cheeks as he tried to crack a smile.

Fiction: Group 4

Since then, I began training for five hours each day – two hours before school and three hours after school. My sister helped me, timing my laps and bringing me food to eat. My family is my motivation, the source of my strength. I want to become a professional swimmer so I can earn enough money to send her to college and secure my father’s retirement. I want them to have a future. When I was 17 years old, I became the district swimming champion and performed well enough to grab the attention of the national swimming coach, who promptly recruited me for the next Olympics. The qualifying time for 800m Free is 8.33.84. My best time is 8.42.53 Practice makes perfect.

Fiction: Group 4

Cat and Mouse Island School, Yik, Thomas - 14, Fiction: Group 4

he Pearl River Delta is one of the regions in China that experiences extreme economic growth. Skyscrapers have risen replacing crop fields, fancy restaurants replacing old warehouses, wealth replacing poverty.

In spite of the astonishing economic growth, two major components that fuelled the growth has become scarce; land and labour. Both are needed in the upcoming plan for a high-speed railway system, by the Government, that would link up all the cities in the Pearl River Delta together.

The Government sought solutions to reduce costs, efforts and time spent. Even so, no one would have thought that they would take it that far.

I was looking outside the window when they came. The cold touch of the window bit on my cheek, but the scene outside intrigued me.

A pair of mice were scrambling for their life, chased down the alley by a cat. The cat was more than 20 yards away from the mice but it was larger in size and easily caught up. The mice fell a tail-length short from their safe haven in the walls, dying horridly as they entered the cat’s meat grinder. They never stood a chance against the jaws of the cat.

As the cat turned away satisfied with its meal, an army of rodents raced out from the cracks in the wall. Like a pride of lions hunting an elephant, they climbed onto the cat and tearing at its fur. He jumped around in circles, making futile attempts to shake the mice off, but it was too late, overwhelmed he collapsed under their weight. Suffocating under the mountain of mice.

It was not something that happened often, but it did happen.

“Dinner’s ready, dear.” Mother called from the kitchen. I climbed down from the windowsill.

Something was wrong, we normally did not serve dinner until an hour later.

I walked into

the dining room believing my mother had a surprise for me. Everything looked normal, except for one thing. The room was empty. My attention was quickly drawn to what was on the dining table. A bowl of steaming noodles, its mesmerising scent inviting me to just take a bite. My legs walked for me, slowly and steadily, but in my head I was feeling uneasy and uncertain. Something was definitely unordinary.

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Fiction: Group 4

I suddenly noticed the shadows of a man behind me, but before I could react, a sharp pain hit the back of my head. I fell unconscious and the dark devoured me like dinner.

I woke up and found myself in a train station.

The first thing I noticed was the mass of people in the same station as me. I looked around desperately searching for my mother. I turned in circles, each second increased the surge of anxiety in my stomach. I shouted her name through the crowd, muffled by the constant chatter and noise beside me. Acting like a lost puppy, I surveyed my surroundings uncertain of who I was amongst. Children, teenagers, youth. All seemed to be on the verge of tears, all looking for someone. I spent the rest of the day walking still in search of my mother, but each step affirmed a realisation that had slowly crept into my mind. A realisation that I was alone. Lost. As the air cooled, my eyelids grew heavier. I found a secluded corner for myself. I curled into a tiny ball and drifted into sleep. I pulled my legs against my chest with my hands as hard as I was pulling the last flicker of hope that I still might see my mother tomorrow. Pushing away the dread of what tomorrow might bring. I woke up to the piercing whine of metal scratching metal. A loud roar of an engine accompanied with the shouting of men came from the other end of tunnel as a train rolled into the station. A loud voice suddenly echoed through the tunnel, likely to be amplified by speakers. A stream of information gushed through. “This is an underground prison. Your job is to build trains. A meal is earned by building ten trains. There are guards around the entrance and some patrol around the tunnel. If you disobey their orders or work too slow, they will drag you out on the side and execute the consequences. Your parents are dead.” That last sentence hung in the air for an indefinite amount of time. The sudden death proclaimation breathed in by the many hundreds or more around me. A scream broke the silence. A young boy was being beaten by three guards as they kicked and slammed their batons to his head and stomach. One of the guards pulled his gun out and leveled it at the teen’s head. Without a moment of hesitation or remorse, he pulled the trigger. Sudden fear gripped my chest, squeezing my heart making it pump faster and faster. “This is what happens if you don’t start building.” They had shown how easy it was for them to take a life, how easy it was for one of us to be next. This generation of youth from the city had never seen public execution before, never feared that their bowls might be empty for their next meal. They were accustomed to the luxuries and comfort of city life. The guards knew that and they sucked onto it greedily like a leaking wound. The others surrendered to the supression like slaves and animals. For the next several months I played along like the rest of the prisoners, doing whatever the guards asked of me. Performing acts for the guards, acts that would have been deemed taboo and illegal in society. But in my head my brain has been thinking. The guards plainly stated in their first sentence that this was a prison. They plainly stated that our parents were dead. Normally that would have resulted in a large rebellion, an angry mob charging at the guards. They crushed that glowing ember in our hearts with the simple demonstration of a boy dying. Yet they did

Fiction: Group 4

not remove the reason for us to fight, the fuel. They just put the fire out. And all you needed to start the fire again was a spark. A familiar scream, one of the many that became the soundtrack of the day, as a guard took another child for a session of public torture. The guard secured the child on a chair, preparing to perform the act of nail removal. The guard reached towards his tool belt for his weapon of torture. He hands grasped air. He gasped in surprise as a knife appeared at the edge of his throat. “Do anything I didn’t ask you to, you’re dead meat.” I whispered into his ear. Shouts came from the other guards as they realised what happened. They leveled their guns at my face but none dared to take the shot. “Put that knife down or I’ll shoot you to kingdom come, young man.” One of the guard said. “If you want.” I increased the pressure of the blade to the guard’s neck. A trickle of blood flowed down the front of his neck. The distraught expression on the guard’s face as he shook his head, not wanting his colleagues to take the risk. Ignoring the amount of guns aimed at me, I turned to face the large number of children, all in awe and disbelief to what I was doing. “You weak, stupid, pitiful, dishonourable bunch of spoilt brats!” Anger and confusion started to replace disbelief on some faces, uncertain of the sudden hatred I had for them. “What? Are you unable to fight for yourself once your mothers are gone? What an arse you have made of yourself once they didn’t show up to help you.” Some children looked like they might start charge at me and slice me into little pieces. How could I dare to speak to them like that? “Are you really going to allow these fools to govern over you for the rest of your life? Erasing the dreams you once had for your future?” I gestured to the guards around them. Their attention slowly shifted. They glanced around the tunnel, looking at the guards in the same way as how predators assess their prey. A few guards threatened me again, sensing the sudden change in atmosphere. “Look at what they have done to you for the past few months. Look at how they treat you. Do you even feel human? Do you have no honour? Do you have nothing to fight for?!” My words echoed again and again through the tunnel. It sounded like a chorus of people repeating my words. “It all starts when you learn to say ‘no’. When you learn to face death with no fear, to face a gun barrel without flinching, when you fight like you have nothing to lose!” Hence came the spark. At the end of my sentence everyone gave off a battle cry so deafening that it sounded like the voice of hell.

Fiction: Group 4

I slit the throat of my captive with no mercy. The other guards never stood a chance. They were stomped over like little ants running from a tsunami wave. But we did not stop there, we continued and ran down the tunnel. Station after station we ran, discovering other prison camps, overrunning their guards as we wrecked through. We ran and ran reaching the white light at the end of the tunnel, reaching for it was everything we stood for. We stopped immediately outside the entrance of the tunnel. Wincing at the glare of the sunlight. Gawking at the number of guns welcoming us back into civilisation. They crushed us as easily and as quickly as the fight started. The gunshots lasted for a consecutive ten seconds. As we were wasted one by one, holes torn in us leaving us inside out. I felt regretful that the end arrived like this. To die in vain seemed so wasteful. Dismissing it at first as something else, the sound of running footsteps originating from the tunnel was now more evident. Their mere presence and numbers overwhelmed other guards immediately, causing them to flee inflight. Like the pair of mice some die. Like the army of rodents the rest rise.

Fiction: Group 4

The Rivers Curse Ju Ching Chu Secondary School (Tuen Mun), Leung, Claude - 17, Fiction: Group 4

atching the sea, the calm soothing sound of the waves smashing the coast. Looking afar knowing but able to see the shadows of the desired Haven. Ho Nam the boy who was looking at the sorrowful sight had decided to escape to Hong Kong. Running through the boarder, Ho

Nam got lost and lost his parents who might be caught alive or dead. It was 1950, many things happened, Ho Nam roamed the streets of Hong Kong. Hungry, cold, and hopeless he curses the Hong Kong, sleepy he saw a man walk up to him, carrying him on his shoulder he smells like cigarette and the warmth of the man’s back made Ho Nam sleep. The next day he woke up in bed, in a heart beat he remember what happened. Then a man walked through the door, he held two bags and behind him was a bunch of tattooed man. “Here eat up, where are you from?” “I’m from from china, I came here with my family but I got separated when we crossed the river” “well, if you don’t mind kid, this will be your new home. From now on you are apart of us the Kirin Group.” Declared the man, “I am Yeung, people call me lamb chop, call out to my name when ever you are in trouble.” And from that day Ho Nam was adopted by a triad ring leader, all his life needs are carried by him and finally he turned 15. Walking down on the streets of his own area, many people who walk by greeted him in a fearful manner. He then goes up to the restaurant he watches over and had his daily meal. He left a message to the boss as the bill and walked out the street for a cigarette. Thinking of his past he then walks around a salon inspecting every inch of the door, back door and everything that has to do with the entrance of it. Ho Nam smirks as he marks down the valuable information in the notebook. That night 6 men with black mask rushed to the salon with big swords and knives, 5 minutes later a fat man with blood all over his body ran out but was instantly caught by some random man and was stabbed. Running back to the pick up truck the masked men succeeded in murdering a triad boss, one of the masked men was Ho Nam. Then they celebrated the success of the assassination of fat dinosaur. But little did they know, that it was the last night they saw their own boss Lamb chop got poisoned and smashed with a empty glass bottle. It was a win and a loose for the Kirin Group because their enemy got them back. Also it was a difficult time for them too, Ho Nam had it in his heart that this path isn’t what he wanted but he also know that he can’t back down in this type of situation because of his status in the group. He then came up with a dangerous idea that will end his life or will earn him freedom, so he decides right away before they appoint him as the next ring leader for the Group. Ho Nam got up at 4 AM in the morning for the sake of the earliest boat to Macau, because its never safe in his own area of his own people. Until he was caught by his close brother, he seems to expecting him in the docks some time around, at that time Ho Nam thought he was dead, but in the end it was actually a good bye hug. He never though he can find other close peoples other than lamb chop. He got on the boat with some money, and a hope to find new life in the other side of the ocean. Just then he remembered what he wished for when he was young, and it ended up really twisted but he didn’t let it put him off. The next day he got to Macau, but he couldn’t find a job. He went everywhere to find a job but that the time all jobs were either filled or just not employing. Sooner or later he spent all his money in his daily life uses in Macau, with only 100 HKD left he was forced to sleep in the streets. All of the things that are happening now are making it look like Déjà vu. His past story of him when he just got to Hong Kong, now its happening again with him in Macau, he had a little hope there will be a second Lamb Chop to safe him, it did happen but not quite. One day Ho Nam was only left with 50 Dollars, and he could only survive for 3 days. He came around some gambling corners and decides to double his money. So he got on the chair and with his first 2-3 rounds he won. Ended up with 250 HKD, he kept gambling until he won 500. But he remembered back then when he was the ringleader his areas had gambling corners as well people who gamble never end up with a good story, so he quickly went out to buy lunch. From that time on he was able to survive for another month with just gambling. But the wind never blows on one side forever he lost all of his money one night, that’s when he saw his dead end. He slept in the cold streets hungry waiting for the grim reaper to take his life, sleeping num by the cold surrounding a old man came to him and asked if

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Fiction: Group 4

he was his son, knowing that it was a chance to survive he said yes. The old man was crying and hugged him but when he called his name he was just scared if he might find out one day, the old man was called old man Chan, and he deceased son was named Chan Man Lok. People called him Rocky, since he liked to climb on rocks and do a lot of sports. One day he tripped when he was climbing and ended up cracking his head and lied dead. Not know of this Old Man Chan thought his son was lost since he climbed a mountain. Old Man Chan had a shop in Macau it was a small shop that serves food. It was not big enough to be called a restaurant. It was almost dead since Old Man Chan doesn’t want to cook anymore since he lost his son. But now that he found someone to take his spot he was exhilarated enough to power him up to start up the food stall again. He watched Old Man Chan cook and learned a few Macau dish, and snacks. Old Man Chan had a few dogs, they are all big dogs but one. He treated them as his own children since he was a lonely man. They are Vog, Skolver, Ash Tail, and Baby. Of course baby is the little one. Vog had reddish fur and was the aggressive one, Skolver was white, she has a calm nature, Ash Tail is black but with a grey tail. They are all loyal to the old man, since the old man treats them as his children. Some how they are quite fond of Ho Nam, then they get along well and in a month they were loyal to him too. His life was being lead to a happy ending now, he learned how to cook from the old man, and the old man even gave his shop to him. One day when Ho Nam was standing in his shop, a young lady came and ordered a dish. Ho Nam has some instinct and could tell something bad was going to happen, but when he looked at the girl he can’t believe it was accurate. The young lady wore a white dress and a hand bag, looked more like she is from a rich family. He served the lady and had a little chat with her, she looked lonely and sad somehow but she neglects it. From that forward she came often to visit Ho Nam, even the dogs are fond of her as well. Then they became friends Ho Nam then learns that her name was Scarlet. Every day was wonderful until one day like any other normal days they hung out, did what they always do and when Scarlet left some tall men who wore a suit came up to his shop. They came up and only asked if he knew the lady, obviously Ho Nam answered yes, and they knocked him out and dragged him in a car. When Ho Nam woke up he found himself tied up in a chair, everywhere was dark, but he was not scared he knew if something was going to hit him it would be karma since he used to this to people back in the days. Then a fat man in a suit biting a cigar on his mouth walked up to him and slapped him. The fat man was called Mr. Cheng, and he said his daughter was Scarlet. He then tell Ho Nam that he doesn’t want any one touching his daughter and told him to back down. But Ho Nam never intimidated by big or small he told him he won’t stand back not one inch, and that it’s the will of both of them that they are even friends. It angered Scarlet’s father and he beat Ho Nam, although tied Ho Nam could still not only defend but offense too. He used the chair to stomp his foot which made him call out to his guards. But something miracle happened when they grabbed Ho Nam to the garden, the dogs rushed to it one by one jumping over a small gate, they scared Scarlet’s father and were biting the guards with that life time chance of escape Ho Nam broke the ropes and whistled for a retreat. When they got to a safe distance, Ho Nam hugged his saviors and they went home hoping they wouldn’t find him the next day. It has been a few weeks and Scarlet didn’t show up like the usual, but one day she came up to Ho Nam at night wearing something that makes her unnoticeable, she told him that her father wants her to marry someone she doesn’t know, Ho Nam couldn’t help her but he know what to do, he decided to leave his life in Macau and go to the main land China. It was tough when he had to talk to the Old man about the truth, but surprisingly he already knew that he wasn’t his son. He said that he was happy enough that he could act like his son to let his last moments of his life bright, when Ho Nam heard it he felt like he was loosing another fatherly like person in his life again. Ho Nam closed the shop, but when he was about to leave Skolver followed, she wanted to follow Ho Nam somewhere else away from Macau, and she also had a letter in her mouth. It was from the old man, it wrote that he wanted him to really become his son and that he was a good child, and he wanted him to take Skolver away since she is the youngest one, and wanted him if by chance will ever come back to Macau, take care of the dog and the shop and that he already changed the name of the owner to him. Filling with tears Ho Nam was embraced by Scarlet, it was the first time he felt a warm feeling from a women, and from that one hug he swore he wouldn’t let anyone dear to him die or leave his side anymore even if it was fate. They took a boat back to Hong Kong. The first thing Ho Nam plan to do is visit back his group. He was prepared to get hit by his elders or brothers who didn’t know about his escape. But when he got back they all celebrated his return, since his close brother took his spot telling them that he was dead, but somehow survived and now alive. Ho Nam picked up the lie and continued it saying how a sailor picked up his floating body and had to sew him with a needle and some thread to stop the bleeding. When the

Fiction: Group 4

members saw Scarlet they all shouted that Ho Nam has finally bought a girl home, but this one is a Souvenir from Macau. Ho Nam told them he doesn’t want anything to do with triads anymore and that he wants a spot in his area for a restaurant, so they prepare a spot for him to make his living in. It was a 2 floor building, they told him that the 1st floor is a restaurant and the 2nd floor should be made into a house for Scarlet and himself. They finished opening up a restaurant in 1 month and then they opened the business with a celebration from the Kirin group, after that their business went high in the market. They lived together for 1-2 years from the day they first met, every day was a happy day, and until one day Scarlet’s father came to Hong Kong to visit their restaurant. It was not an ordinary visit, it seems more like he wants to retrieve her back to Macau. He brought some men here to destroy their business but the business was watched over the Kirin Group, and a big fight started within the fight a third came and joined the fight, but they came to kill. In the mixed fight someone random killed Scarlet, enraged Ho Nam grabbed the butcher knife and started killing the random people. In the end Scarlet’s father died in the fight too. The shop closed Ho Nam got arrested and it seems like a game over. 40 years later, Ho Nam was released. The world was not how it looked like before, he couldn’t remember how Hong Kong was like, and all he could remember was the River where it all started. He took his remaining money and walked up to the river, he built a small home near the river waiting for his days to run out, passing his days with all the people who has died. He was tired really tired, so sleepy that he fell into slumber with the picture of the river in mind.

Fiction: Group 4

Harold's Journey Korean International School Secondary Section, Lo, Christopher - 14, Fiction: Group 4

arold was a poor man in Britain during the early 1800s. Harold lived a hard life farming along with his family. Harold always dreamt of seeing the dynamic world instead of working on his farm every day.

One day in 1837, he saw a poster and it said, “The British East India Company is recruiting soldiers to escort cargo to India and the Pearl River, see your local recruiting office.” Harold rushed into the village centre hastily and signed up for the East India Company. When Harold got back, he told his parents and they weren’t really optimistic about him being a soldier. His father said “We need you for the harvests, I need you here! Our lives would be better soon.” Harold ignored his father and the day after, he left to the Military school. He entered the camp and soon encountered a strict figure that he would succumb to - Sergeant David Watterson. When his eyes gazed upon him, he felt that he entered a lion’s den and would have a hard time in this establishment. Then there was an initiation meeting regarding basic schedule, daily routines and information that he needed to know. He listened attentively and shortly, his Military training began. He was assigned to a bunk and given a bucket to do his private business, now he thought that he wouldn’t like it here. To add insult to injury, he had to wake up at 6 AM each morning and train all day and hit the sack at 10 PM. He was unfit and was not prepared for the mental stress that was going to happen in the trainings. He climbed and crawled through the training and fell on the dirt. He was given lashes for not getting up. During running he always fell and dirtied his shirt, giving him the nick name “Clumsy Harold.” He was really bad with the musket while aiming and using the bayonet. He failed to keep his hands still and this made him look timid. By the first month, there was talk of kicking Harold out of the academy. Harold was seemed to be a lost cause but then, in this crucial hour, a fellow soldier known as Matt arrived. Matt was upbeat, warming and friendly. Matt saw Harold’s struggles and he decided to help him and soon Harold improved and all talks of kicking him out were silenced. Thanks to Matt’s help, he graduated; he was given a proper uniform and was to go to a distant land. Shortly after, he and his unit were shipped off to India guarding Opium heading for Hong Kong, a port south of China. Harold was assigned to the 12th East India Battalion and in time, learned the ways of bartering and trading during his time in India. He then saw the grand beauty of the Pearl River during his journey in 1838. As he landed in Hong Kong he saw the exotic oriental culture and was amazed by its carved roofs and crafted stones. He also thought that it could be his own home to live in. “A change of scenery,” he thought to himself. But then he thought of his family, which made him divided - his family or filling his lust for adventure? This decision would haunt him for a few years. When he stumbled on port carrying opium, he saw a few people playing a card game which he was curious to see and watch how they played. He curiously saw the game and was intrigued by it, he wanted to ask the players but since they were Chinese, they only knew mandarin confusing Harold, making him feel a little bit out of place and so he walked away. During his time at port in Hong Kong for a year, he enjoyed the food, the atmosphere and the scenery but it would be the last sight, taste and pleasant noises that he’ll hear for a while and it would not be the same ever again. In 1839, when he was in India, there was a mass movement shifting towards the crude galleons. Harold was distorted and asked his colleagues, “Why are we moving to the galleons?” It was odd as only half the regiment would go on a galleon during a trade trip. Soon his friend Matt said frustratingly “Britain is going to invade Hong Kong.” Harold’s heart dumped deep down and felt that it would be a betrayal to the innocent soul of Hong Kong by invading it as Harold treated it as a sacred land. He soon ignored the idea and packed his meagre belongings and boarded the galleon which set sail for the affluent port of Hong Kong.

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Fiction: Group 4

During his time on the galleon, he was drinking some ale to calm himself down to ease down the emotions of what was going to happen, but the ideas still quizzed his mind. “What will happen to Hong Kong?” “Will its culture will be eradicated?” Suddenly, the quartermaster of the Galleon shouted “To your posts!” he cried “Chinese galleons on the Horizon!” Harold slowly got up and then clumsily, walked up the decks. During his stint, he saw a lot of fire and echoes of death from the exotic Chinese war ships, ships that went up in flames just like paper. He was shocked and his drunkenness ceased. He couldn’t believe what he saw and slowly, collapsed onto the hard wooden floor. Soon after he was awoken by his fellow comrades as he felt the sea’s wrath on his eyes enflaming it. He became quiet, short-spoken and shortly after the naval battle, he completely changed his heart. He hated the fact that his comrades were not respecting him at all invoking traitorous thoughts like, murder, sabotage and thought that he was doing this for Hong Kong. A strange spell fell upon him and he murdered a few people that disrespected him. Harold was a charmer, he covered his tracks well, craftily pointing the finger at others, watching “those traitors” receive their dire punishment. A few days later, Harold deftly poisoned the captain of the ship making him really sick. As he continued executing his vengeful plan, no suspicion fell upon him but the invasion of Hong Kong soon dawned. On the day of the invasion of Hong Kong, he was nervous, sweaty and angry that his own country was invading a city that he loved and would’ve settled. They landed in Hong Kong and were greeted by several cannons. The cannons proved little effect to the ships and the British Galleons returned fire and they were destroyed. Hong Kong Island would prove difficult to go across. The Mountains were high and low. Flat ground was nowhere in sight and the constant ambushes made his regiment’s morale plummet but suddenly, a drastic change in his mind had popped up. His traitorous thoughts still remained, but he soon felt misplaced, that he shouldn’t be in Hong Kong but his love of his city was still immense and soon those ideas about not living in Hong Kong faded away like it was just a breeze. There was a huge accident which also made his attitude change. He received a letter from his parents. The letter said that, “We're going to have to sell our farm; we had really bad harvests and we couldn’t sell, so we’ll be going off to the India to find land and work and hopefully get things going again – From Your Father” After Harold read the letter, he was stunned for a moment. In his mind he really had to choose his family or give in to the city that casted a spell upon him. Harold hesitated and felt really uneasy, he felt that he was shaking and then he fell unconscious. Soon, he was woken up by his friend Matt; he asked “Are you alright Harold?” Harold slowly got up and then told him what was going on in his mind. Matt was interested, surprised and intrigued at what Harold just told him. “That seems fun and crazy at the same time!” Matt said delightfully. Harold felt that it was a curse and thought Matt was quite crazy into believing that his misfortunes were good to have. Harold thought what to do. Stay in Hong Kong and leave his own poor family behind or give in to the magic of Hong Kong. He felt that Hong Kong touched his heart but his family felt more important than just a mere fishing village. He thought that supporting his family after the war would be the best choice for him and his family. He felt at peace knowing that his inward conflict with himself died down. Very soon all of his comrades were on deck. They were listening of what the battle plan is. The commander said that they would shell the fortress and would land and try to take it. They felt that the plan was suicidal as it was armed with a lot of Cannons, but during the course of the battle, the Chinese cannons barely punched a hole to the British ships. Once the cannons were disabled, they landed and charged forward to the fortress having no doubts. They were ready for death but luckily the enemy had ancient weapons and most of the occupants in the fortress fell to the gunfire. It seemed that they were fearless men ready to die for they’re Emperor. They took the fortress by Storm and the occupants surrendered. Orders from the General were to shoot the survivors. Harold stuttered for a second and said “There’s no point, we’d be wasting bullets and on them.” “No, we can’t risk it, they could inform the enemy.” said the General. Harold found this disgusting and refused to do the shooting of the unarmed prisoners of war.

Fiction: Group 4

The crew had orders to attack the main district of Hong Kong Harold was happy as he could embrace the sight that he saw many years ago which he had mourned to see since this war started. So they marched through the beautiful view of the harbour, simple and elegant view with the sunrise falling down. They pitched camp and chatted with his mates and comrades till midnight. The Next day they carried on to the main district now known as Central. They saw an old administrative building and local guards ran away just from the sight of the Union Jack flag. They saw the treasures that the Chinese crafted. One of his commanders said “These would fetch a fortune!” Harold decided to grab a few valuables to help his family to have an easier life. Our commander soon struck a peace agreement with the Chinese Government. The war was over; Harold thought it was a dawn of a new era for Hong Kong. He saw the old people playing the card game years ago and he was invited to sit down and play with them. Harold soon got to know one of them known a Song Lai. Song Lai said that “The British brought prosperity to Hong Kong, I salute you sir.” It made Harold proud and those statements made him stay in military service for a longer time than he had expected. Soon after a few years guarding Hong Kong, he finally retired and had several decorations during his short military career. He was going to return to India and would see his family after several years of absence. He took a ship and thought about how this journey benefitted him, he thought that he removed the influence of the city’s zeal; he saw how lucky he was seeing several people on the street homeless and starving. This journey was a lesson to him, being optimistic can bring lessons but it can also bring many fears and dangers. He was lucky to have a safe journey. He was not caught for doing those crimes but he began to feel guilty. After several years, he felt that he had to turn himself in. He went to a local court and was to be shot. During his last days, he wrote a letter to his parents, it wrote, “Dear Mother and Father Hello, this will be my last words to you; you might not understand why I turned myself in but I’ll do my best to explain what had happened during my service in my army. During my first days, I resented my commanders; they were cruel, strict and arrogant men. I hated command, that’s why I denied every promotion. I also denied any rewards from them, it was just my duty. I had a sudden lure to Hong Kong itself that I couldn’t describe in words. This sudden lure made me do things which made me feel guilty, I had poisoned a captain on the ship and I pointed fingers at innocent men and they got shot from my doing. I regretted every moment of it and I wish I had resisted the city’s lure. Otherwise I wouldn’t have written this dire letter. Your Dear Son, Harold” On the day of being shot, he had prepared his mind for death, waiting for the afterlife. He never believed in God but he felt it was time for redemption. He prayed all night and hoped for forgiveness. He thought it was the only thing left to do. He had seen the sun, several soldiers saluting him and was lead to a wooden pole. He was blindfolded and tied on the pole and then Harold, soldier of the 12th East India Battalion was shot for treason against the British Army.

Fiction: Group 4

Peace Korean International School Secondary Section, Muhammad Nurfaizi, Rasyid - 15, Fiction: Group 4

never really understood what ‘peace’ meant. It was just merely a word that I hear people use a lot. I never really got the chance to experience living in it. Our nation, our small land was always the battleground of the great nation’s war and each time, our land was land waste and the people were left

impoverished. The nations make war to protect their interest and for national gain. The land of fire (Guangzhou), the land of water (Shenzen), the land of air ( Hong Kong) have all grown too big while our nation, the land of the hidden mist ( Macau) still remained small as ever. After many wars, the great lands stabilized. And our small nation was left to bear the wounds of war. Everyone still feels the pain of loss, I’m just an ordinary man driven to seek revenge in the name of justice. But if revenge is called justice then that justice breeds yet more revenge and becomes a chain of hatred. Living with it, aware of the past, predicting the future. That is what it means to know history. The worse is still yet to come. We cannot help but know that people can never understand each other. The world we live in is ruled by hatred. I for one want to do something about that hatred. But I have no idea where to begin. Even I can tell that hatred is spreading its quite obvious really by the rules that have been carried out. These may seem hypocritical but there will be a day where people can truly understand each other! People may say time will pass and the pain will eventually heal, they’re dead wrong that’s something a fool would say. The peace that they have is the great sacrifice that our small nation has played a role in for them to achieve it. The peace that we have is something we know, something we see, something we hear. But…not something we feel. One of my greatest loss was the death of my mother and father right before my eyes. I can never wash out the memory out of my mind. It was painful, my heart skipped a beat as their body layed on the ground. Tears were running down my eyes, my body couldn’t stop producing more and more sweat every second. It was a feeling I can never forget. The nightmares still haunt me till this very moment and I shall carry that nightmare for as long as I shall live. Our suffering that was caused by the big kingdoms, all the horrible things that they have done. How can you call that peace!? I do believe that there is peace written in the stars, a million miles away. A message to the main seasons come and go but I will never change because I’m on my way. I realised the screaming pain, loud in my brain, but I’m going straight ahead with scars.

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Fiction: Group 4

The Revolution Within Korean International School Secondary Section, Teo, Benjamin - 15, Fiction: Group 4

onspiracy is one of the main factors some countries and this world is so corrupted. No one thought that the Students and the supporters would triumph over the central government, but somehow the students were able to gain a sudden push in momentum from a secret background force. With that

Hong Kong crumbled and the rest of China followed; Macau, Zhu Hai, Kai Ping the cities along the Pearl River Delta collapsed into endless chaos once word of Hong Kong fell broke out. The streets of Hong Kong no longer shimmered like they used to, they were deserted and all you could hear were the sound of crackling flames sitting in barrels everywhere. Smoke floated around and layers of smog built up by the city of Hong Kong. Half the city is now in ashes and what separates the Students from total domination is a little girl called Daisy. Daisy watched as her whole family was captured by the student army, from then on she became mute and no longer had feelings. Isolated from the rest of the world she made sure she could survive, with her intellect still intact she was able to create her old tree house on the outskirts of the city, buried by the jungle. She didn’t have a lot but she managed to grasp all the essentials she needed to go on day by day; a power generator she hung from the tree; a water purifier, a crossbow that had unbreakable arrows which she used to hunt with. She didn't expect much but that changed one day. Dreaming of the past Daisy was awoken by a faint howl, at first she thought she was still dreaming but then as it continued and faded, she realized it was real. She climbed down from her tree house and followed the sound of the faint howl. Under a fallen tree lied a Monkey wounded and howling in despair. As she approached it she began feeling something she hadn’t felt in a long time, a surge of emotion filled her body; fear, sadness, happiness all the things a normal girl could feel, she had it back. She kneeled down stroking the monkey as she inspected the bruises and cuts it had while making sure it stayed conscious. She sprinted back to her tree house grabbed her first aid kit and hauled back to where the injured monkey lied. Her first aid skills were put to the test as she cleaned and bandaged the monkey making sure that it would survive and carry on. Several days passed and the monkey was back to its original healthy state, it was really happy that it could swing on trees again and Daisy was glad she helped the monkey, she was no longer lonely. They got to know each other using a type of sign language Daisy made up. Days passed and just as Daisy hoped it would get better, it didn’t. A speaker on a drone flew around the skies of Hong Kong in rounds, broadcasting a message from the heads of the umbrella revolution. “Attention!” the speaker played “We know you’re out there little girl and either you surrender yourself or we hunt you down! Your choice?” Daisy was frozen, she had no idea they would eventually find her too but they did and now they would look for her. In her mind the two voices were at each others throats; one choosing to give up and the other not backing down without a fight. This troubled her for the remainder of the night. The next morning it was dull, the skies were grey and Hong Kong was covered in a layer of fog; not to mention the horrid rain that began to seep through the roof of the tree house. DRIP DROP DRIP DROP. It was 9 in the morning and after a sleepless night Daisy chose to confront her biggest fear, the heads of the Umbrella Revolution. It wasn't easy but she thought to herself, “What have I got to lose?” With that she packed and equipped herself with her cross-bow and the essentials she might need to survive in the city. She left a note for the monkey Bobo, it read:

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Fiction: Group 4

“Dear Friend, The last few days have been a roller coaster ride for me, you have brought back my deepest memories and emotions which I really needed. I'm sorry but I guess this is goodbye and I love you my little friend - please don't come find me and live a happy life. Goodbye!” She set off into the fog. The mountain was muddy and slippery, her journey down was dangerous and unpleasant but she carried on with one thing on her mind; to rescue her parents and end all of this. Even she had no idea. She was so stubborn but the heart she had insisted that she had to do this no matter what. She finally reached Harcourt road, the beginning of all this. She took a step forward with her eyes closed, the concrete jungle the world has seen countless times no longer exist, it took her a while to get used to the atmosphere. A sign read, 'Students World Get Lost!' She continued on the path. After awhile she realized something was wrong but couldn't quite figure out what it was. She finally reached a dome like circle carved in the middle of the road, surrounded by columns of fire, sat the head of the revolution. No guards, not one single soul except Joshua Wong himself. Daisy was baffled, confused by the scene in front of her. A protest with over ten of thousands of people but only one person sat in front of her. She walked up to Joshua Wong and asked “Where the hell is everyone?. Joshua told her everything, of how the NED forced him and the others to work for them; so they could bring down Hong Kong, so that China would fall into chaos, so that America could take over and invade China. The population of Hong Kong had been shipped to Cuba where they were placed in camps and tortured badly and he was left in Hong Kong to rot. Daisy was repressed by a cauldron of anger, she had no idea it was a lie all along and now that she finally found out, she couldn't do anything about it. She took an arrow, armed her cross-bow and shot Joshua in the heart. He bled slowly until he died as Daisy watched. Daisy was all alone once again.

Fiction: Group 4

A Letter from the Pearl River Delta

Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Wan, Gabriel - 17, Fiction: Group 4

ear Shang,

This has to be one of the hardest letters to I have ever had to write. You have no idea how I wish, after all these years, this letter would finally be one that would bring good news, one that would contain, at the very least, a shimmer of hope for the future. But please forgive me, for this is not the case. Leaving you was the greatest mistake I could ever have made, and no words can describe my ardent yearning to come home, but you have to understand that I had no choice back then; I was never given one to begin with, and I still have none to this day.

* I pause. My pen falls to my lap as I look up from my letter and stare blankly ahead, unsure of how to continue writing from there. How exactly do you put your feelings into words anyway? It is simply impossible to do so, for how can language invented by man aptly express the deepest, most heartfelt sentiments of the human soul? I close my eyes, feeling the gentle touches of a light autumn breeze softly caressing my face and trying to sooth away all my sorrows, but all is done in vain. There is a subtle whiff of smoke and dirt that has drifted from the city streets down below in the otherwise refreshing zephyr, travelling all the way up to the rooftop and attacking my senses. This is almost an exact depiction of how Shenzhen is - a mixture of beauty and destruction.

My eyes flutter open at the thought, and I drink in the magnificent view of the city from the factory's rooftop. The quietly flowing river sparkles with the luminescent reflections of the city lights, and on the other bank, ostentatious cars dash about in the streets, and the lights from glass skyscrapers outshine even the moon, illuminating the night, albeit blindingly so. A thriving city buzzing with life, and one of the most economically successful places of the Pearl River Delta. Yet today, no amount of stunning city lights is going to console me. All I can see are memories flashing before my eyes, memories lost and never to be relived again. All I can hear is the sound of forfeited youth and dreams, swishing and swirling as they drifted downstream along with the water. All I can feel is morose, with a hint of madness slowly creeping up on me, feeding on my sanity like a parasite.

I take a deep breath, and pick up my pen once more. *

You must have thought that my life is all flowers and rainbows, with the way I described my time here in Shenzhen in my previous letters, and you must have hated me for giving up on my family to seek wealth elsewhere. But you must know that if I were ever given the choice to stay behind and live a simple, peaceful life with you back in our village, I would never have left for Shenzhen. I would have stayed with you and Xiaobao, and I would have been happy and content. But with Xiaobao so young and our fields taken away - sans compensation - in the name of urbanisation, fate has taken away any sort of choice I might have in life, and I simply had no choice but to come and work in this strange, unfamiliar city of the great Pearl River Delta.

The Pearl River Delta. Such a grand, opulent name; one that speaks of opportunities, of prosperity, of hopes for a better life. But that is all it is - a name, and nothing more. True, the cities in this area has most certainly lived up to it, becoming one of the regions in China to experience the fastest economic growth since 1979, and once upon a time, this was the San Francisco to us - a land whispering promises of wealth. This illusion was what fueled me in the beginning, thinking that with my hard work, I could one day earn enough for all three of us and come home to you.

I had been thrilled about the beginning of a new life. A senior colleague of mine taught me to read and write when I got my first job at the printing factory, and she showed me around the city, which, back then, had just a handful of new factories that have moved from Hong Kong. I worked religiously around the clock, and for over seven years, I never even so much as took a single day off. I had dreamed that with hard work, I would reap the reward I rightfully deserved, and finally be able to build a new life for the whole family. We would be worrying about which university to send Xiaobao to, instead of worrying about where to get our next meal. We would be having a good life together in the city, instead of separated by the cruel

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Fiction: Group 4

hands of fate. We would finally be living, instead of simply surviving. This thought gave me hope, and kept me going.

Throughout these years, I bore witness as this miracle happened, when more and more businesses and factories took root here, and this once humble fishing village transformed into a budding megacity in just under two decades' time. But by the time I came to realise that reality is, in fact, otherwise, it was already too late for me to regret my decision. Yes, the Pearl River Delta does give promises of riches, but these promises are only meant for the large companies and the businessmen - not for us peasant workers who came all the way from the inland to these cities. And discovering this, the dream extinguished like a weak flickering flame in a hurricane.

With neither degree for completing education nor qualifications for professional skills, I could only move from factory to factory, committing to mundane, repetitive jobs like polishing the tiny components of electronic devices, or screwing on plastic caps of toothpaste tubes. We never earned much money or respect, and life gets harder by the day. They would request us to work overtime without pay, as well as threaten us into accepting jobs with the lowest pay or risk getting laid off - a cost too high for me to bear. I could barely support myself in the city, let alone Xiaobao and you.

Despite having lived here for over a decade, I can never be one of their own. Not with their condescending tones when speaking to us, and certainly not with their surly glares directed at me wherever I go anyway. To them, I have always been, and will forever remain, a lowly peasant. This is why even though I desperately wanted to have Xiaobao come live with me in the city, I never did. I might have no choice, but I did not want my son to be treated the way I have been since my arrival. He deserves better.

This Pearl River Delta that gave me so much hope and so many dreams, is the very same one that took them away. Behind its façade of wealth and affluence, are the blood, sweat and tears of people like us. Yet no matter how we feel or what we say, there is nothing we can do to change our unfortunate circumstances for apparently, no one cares enough to fight for us, and no one cares enough to stand up against the authorities for us. Our fates are written by the moguls, and sealed by the silent majority.

We never really do know how precious time is until we've got hardly any left. There's still so much I want to say to you, but time is what you have run out of. I am sorry for so many things: for leaving Xiaobao in your care when she was not your responsibility nor your burden to bear, for being so stupid as to trust that my heartless husband could turn away from gambling, and most of all, for not being the sister you deserved. I wasn't completely honest with you in my previous letters, but I hope that with this final one in which I have, at last, told you the whole truth, you would not leave blaming me for what I have done. I simply had no choice.

Farewell, my brother. I will see you again. With love from

Mei *

I put down my pen, looking up towards the cityscape. I try to look for some sort of meaning to it all, and coming up with none, I decide not to dwell upon it.

I pick up my letter and climb down from the roof, my legs moving on their own since my brain is definitely not functioning anymore, having been numbed from both pain and remorse upon learning of my brother's passing. But while my brain is nullified, my heart is still very much alive, screaming in anguish and weeping in agony, mourning for how much Shang had sacrificed for my son and I, and mourning for the fact that he is never going to see this letter, and I am never going to see him again.

Stopping by the bank, I tear up the letter into shreds, and scatter them into this nameless stream of running water, which would somehow meet with the prominent Pearl River, and, eventually, drain into the vast ocean. But by then, it matters not where the water came from.

Fiction: Group 4

Tale of a Girl Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Wong, Zenith - 16, Fiction: Group 4

he room was dark and the little girl could hear the swoosh noises of the traffic outside her home. She thought they sounded like spaceships, or some intergalactic war going on outside. Or maybe they were fairies. Peter Pan could be waiting for her. They could go on an adventure.

"Stop wriggling, Sophie," her mother muttered, holding her tighter. Oh. Mum might not let her go though. She was always so scared that Sophie would get lost or hurt herself. But Wendy went by herself, right? Though she almost got shot down by the Lost Boys. It'd be so worth it though. Sophie heard her mother's soft snores, slow and repetitive. Along with the sounds of passing cars outside, she imagined herself going on a great adventure to some place far away, some place magical because that would be a fantastic opportunity to see more. "Sophie, wake up." The young girl opened her eyes blearily and saw light peeking in from the single window of where she lived. Most of it was covered by hangers with clothes on them and Sophie thought this was clever because there wasn't a need for curtains. "Sophie, c'mon. It's your first day of school. Sophie!" Finally giving in to her mum, Sophie sat up and blinked. Her eyes felt like they were glued together and she rubbed at them, trying to get rid of the scratchy gunk on her face. Her mum pushed her hand away and used a towel to rub her face for her. Sophie sat on the edge of the bed she and her mother shared, letting her mum do everything whilst her mind drifted off back to the dream she had had last night - she hadn't gone to Neverland but Wonderland. Peter was there too, so it was her, Alice and Peter, talking to the flowers and- she lifted her arms so her mum could put her uniform on - and there were the mermaids from Neverland, too. "Button your shirt by yourself, okay?" Sophie's mum kissed the side of her face. Sophie grinned and did as she was told. Sophie was excited for school. A new adventure, that's what it was. A new school, new friends, new teachers and new things to learn. "Done?" "Mhm." Sophie looked up at her mum and nodded vigorously. "Okay, come on, quick trip to the bathroom, okay?" Her mum's hand reached down for hers and they walked out of their small flat. A long corridor was behind the door, a long winding maze that Sophie skipped through. She'd grown up here her whole life so the shadows didn't scare her. Why be scared of shadows when Peter had so desperately wanted to get his back? Sophie's mum smiled at her vivacious daughter. There was something about Sophie that would always make her mother happy and upset at the same time; a magical trait that only her daughter possessed.

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Fiction: Group 4

There were different doors along the corridors, each one of them shut. The toilet door was shut and locked and Sophie's mum tapped on the door. "Hello?" "Someone's in here!" A voice snapped. "Mummy, why are people so mean?" Sophie looked up at her mother with huge eyes. "Sometimes people are just cranky. When others misunderstand them, people think they're mean." Sophie paused in thought. "Like the Beast?" The corner of her mother's mouth twitched. "Yes. So do you think you can be like Belle and give people a chance?" The little girl nodded. At last, the door of the bathroom swung open to reveal a frowny old man, thin and bent over with age. He stared daggers at the parent and daughter but Sophie revealed her missing teeth to the man in a smile. She wouldn't admit she was a little frightened, though. "Good morning, old man!" she called. The old man squinted at her for a few seconds before tottering away without a response. "Do you remember what I told you about good manners, Sophie?" "Always say pleasethankyougoodmorning even if people don't say it back because it's a nice thing to do." The little girl felt accomplished. "That's right." Sophie felt her mother pat her on the head. Her mother shut the bathroom door behind them.

~~~ Growing up was something that everyone did. It was something feared, something kids wanted or both. It came slowly, and then it came all at once. It creeps up on people. "Sophie." The teacher pointed to the sum on the board. She didn't know how to do it. She stood up anyway, moving past the desks to the front of the classroom. Taking the piece of chalk that the teacher held out, Sophie stood in front of class. The numbers were unfamiliar aliens coming to attack her; they stood there, her quest. She wondered if Peter knew how to do math. She sure didn't. The teacher didn't mind. Her classmates were another story. "It's so easy. How can you not know how to do it?" "Why do you always talk about fairytales?" "Didn't your mum teach you how to count?" "Why does your bag have a hole in it?"

Fiction: Group 4

Why did those things matter? In her stories, they wouldn’t. Belle looked past Beast's appearance. Mulan disguised herself as a boy to fight for her country. Mum had taught her how to be nice. Didn't their mothers teach them that? But… She stared blankly at the cold tile floor. Her fairytales weren’t real. She turned and walked in the opposite direction, her steps sounding down the hall. That was the day Sophie learnt that not all mean people were misunderstood. People were mean to misunderstood people.

~~~ Money is a powerful thing. There's something strange about it - how pieces of paper or chunks of metal can be turned into value. How they have the ability to determine someone's future. Someone's status. Someone's life. Now the power was in those who had the most money and went about with their privileges and words of how the poor could not rule. They were stripped of their voice, abandoned and forgotten. Ten years is a lot of time for change. Child into teenager. Teenager into adult. That is what growing up is - years flying by quickly. So quickly, they passed before you could tell them to wait. "Hey Sophie, how come we never get to come to your place?" Sophie smiled hesitantly at her classmates. "It's messy." "I don't think we even know where you live," one of them laughed. They prodded her. She simply answered, "At home." It wasn't as if she didn't know what they said. She preferred not to know what others said of her, even if she heard it anyway. How they whispered. How they mocked her because her mum washed dishes at a restaurant and how her hand-me-down clothes were two sizes too large. How her hair was choppy because she'd cut it herself. "What's your number, Soph?" they asked. She told them her home phone. They always asked why she didn't have a mobile. She brushed things off. Turned a blind eye. Sitting cross-legged on the upper bunk in the flat where she had lived ever since she was a kid, Sophie stared at her Biology textbook. She'd been on the same page for the last ten minutes. "Sophie? What's wrong?" Her mum peered at her from below but the teenager remained stony-faced. "Nothing." The room was so small. As she grew up, the walls seemed to press in like they were trying to suffocate her. A jail cell. The dark corridors outside became never-ending mazes of claustrophobia with monsters

Fiction: Group 4

lurking in the shadows. As she grew up, her world became smaller till it disappeared, replaced by the daunting reality. The struggles, the pain, the truth. When she was younger, she wished for adventures in Neverland and to fall down the rabbit hole with Alice. Now, she wished she could just disappear to another world so she could forget or even better, escape. The square fold-up table was pushed against the wall next to the door. There was just enough space to open it so that it was wedged between the bunk bed and the wall. Clothes were hung all over the place - in front of the windows, on the bed's railings, on shelves - anywhere and everywhere. Her school things and towering stacks of books shared her bed. The day's events swirled in her head, a mess of shame, anger and humiliation. “So the quality of life in Hong Kong is clearly undermined by sub-divided flats. They’re small, cramped rooms where many families live-“ “Miss! Sophie lives in a sub-divided flat. She can tell us what it’s like!” The rising heat. The steady, pounding noise in her head that grew louder and louder, whether from fear or horror, she didn’t know. When the lesson began, Sophie had known what the teacher was about to say but she didn't know it'd take a turn for the worse. It wasn't their right to tell everyone. Sophie herself had never said anything. Rumours, gossip, lies. Reputation, reputation! "Sophie? Maybe you could share your experiences with us?" Your experiences. There was something about the way the teacher had said that made it seem like Sophie was simply trying it. Like she was on a field trip for fun. Like she was obligated to tell the class what her life was like just because she was different. "There's nothing different. Just because I don't live in a mansion doesn't mean there's any different about my home." Sophie knew. Of course there was a difference. She'd been to the homes of her classmates, their houses and apartments that could fit twenty or even more sub-divided flats. While they sported thousand square feet apartments, her home was even smaller than their bedroom. While her schoolmates attended tutoring every second day for every subject they took, she stayed at home, facing her dog-eared textbooks with their covers falling off. When they showed off their new bags and fascinating knick-knacks, she pretended not to see. A hundred thousand of the city's labourers lived like her and her mother. Families of four squashed into a forty square flat with a tiny window, where temperatures could reach up to thirty-eight degrees. Where you could hear the neighbours argue through the thin walls but you couldn't complain even if you had a test the next day. Where there was no space to move, no place to go. "May I be excused?" Sophie had glared at her teacher, cutting her off. She was the star student. The one with the highest grades, good attitude and polite smile. They didn't know how it felt. How hard she really worked so that hopefully they wouldn't notice her background, her clothes. So hopefully they would decide to forget and look past that. All her effort – worthless.

Fiction: Group 4

"Yes," the middle-aged woman turned away. There were eyes burning into her back. Their stares and their silence had been deafening. Sophie made the painful walk to the classroom door. It squeaked open. Sophie had slammed the door behind her, the last five minutes forever burned into her mind. She had heard the rumble of talk as soon as she closed the door. The teacher's impatient shooshing noises, her heart still pounding, cheeks still hot and the shuffle of the soles of her shoes on the tiled ground. Her feet brought her down the stairs to the sick room where she said she wasn't feeling well. "Mum, why do we live here?" The words came out blunt and Sophie's mother seemed to still. "Because we don't have enough money to buy a larger apartment." She turned away to chop up some vegetables for their dinner. "But then why do some people have more money?" Her mother put down the knife. It pained her to watch her daughter grow, becoming more aware of the conditions in which they lived. She could not afford better for her, for them, and for that she blamed herself. Their home was a constant reminder of her failure. "Sophie-" she sighed. "All we ever talk about in class is that the wealthier are getting wealthier and the poorer are getting poorer. That's all they ever say. They never say why." "They were-" Her little girl was so grown up now. A loud whip-like crack seemed to echo in the tiny flat as Sophie slammed her book shut. "It's not fair, Mum! It's not fair how I have to work so hard and they have everything done for them. That no matter what they'll get to go to university in some fancy place like the UK or America, all because they're loaded. What about me? What about us, Mum? What about all those kids out there who aren't going to make it just because no one cares about us?" "It's not like that, Sophie!" Her mother turned to her, eyes ablaze, glazed over and on the verge of tears. "They do care; it's just that they don't care enough. They don't-" Sophie sneered. "They don't know what's going on, that's what. They think we're some joke." Where had her fairytale loving, innocent child gone? Neither mother or daughter moved. Neither said anything. In the background, a baby screamed and a neighbour sneezed loudly. People could hear them but the teenage girl who'd spent her life in that sub-divided flat didn't care. She couldn't care. Not when there was so much more to the world. Not when her past could influence her future so greatly just because her family had gotten the short straw. "Not everyone's lucky." Sophie turned away and stared at the cover of the book. Her mother went back to her chopping and the normalness of such an action struck a chord with Sophie - how old her mother looked, woman who had supported her, taught her to be nice to others and treat them as her equal. Her mother who had aged more than ten years, hands rough from all the work. The book's wrinkled cover almost seemed like scars, the

Fiction: Group 4

book clearly battered from being jostled in bags and flipped through during last minute cramming. Pages were torn in some places, hastily put back together with tape, like her family. Torn apart and broken but still one piece. Like so many families out there with parents away doing work whilst kids stayed by themselves. Forgotten elderly, tucked away and hidden in the confines, waiting. Wealth disparity - the definition of Hong Kong. The former Pearl of the Orient. A dire problem. An issue that no one can hear, no one can see and one that no one cares about if it doesn't influence them. The petty arguments thrown through the Legislative Council. Confusing policies whilst parents worked so hard and children grew up in enclosed spaces. People felt sorry. There were television programmes, talks on the radio and on the Internet about Hong Kong's subdivided flats and cage homes. Yet there just wasn't a voice, someone to help or listen. A person who knew what it was like to suffer, to try and to be poor in a place where the difference between poor and rich was a deep, dark abyss. From the quaint fishing village it had once been, Hong Kong had grown into an international finance hub. One of the wealthiest and fastest-developing cities, yet behind the soaring skyscrapers, glamorous brands and snazzy shopping centres, there was more. So much more.

~~~ "Sophie." Sophie spun around to see her English teacher walking towards her. "Yes, Ms Leung?" "I've been meaning to ask you if you'd be interested in joining a writing competition. The school plans to send ten representatives and we'd love for you be one of them." "What's the topic?" "New Tales of the Pearl Delta River. The limit is three thousand words for your grade. Will you consider it?" Stories about Hong Kong and Guangzhou. The possibilities were endless. Maybe she could attempt a steampunk story of a post-apocalyptic future where pollution had ruined the environment in return for the region's economic success. That would be unique. Perhaps... "I'll do it." "Fantastic!" Ms Leung's face split into a grin. "I'll give you the details later in class, alright?" "That's fine," Sophie replied, her mind whirring. When she arrived home, Sophie climbed up the bunk and put down her bag. She'd write what she knew, what she'd seen and experienced. She'd write about her struggles. She wasn't a politician. She wasn't an activist. She was a kid who'd grown up in Hong Kong. One who'd grown up with a single mother in a sub-divided flat. A teenager who wanted to tell her story, for herself and for others. She wanted to stop seeing neighbours turn their backs on each other. She wanted to stop seeing kids getting left behind because they had less money than others. She wanted to say something.

Fiction: Group 4

She knew what she was going to write. A tale of a girl.

~~~

They say we escape into fantasy when we can’t face reality. Somewhere we can leave or just forget the truth. Reality is nothing like a fairytale. I found out about that as I grew up. Instead, I lived in a unfair world. It takes one person to light a spark but there must be something to catch fire. I use to think I couldn’t change anything. Not by myself, at least. People to listen, to follow and to take action. It takes a single step to start something and something else- Hope. I hope and I dream not of fairytales but of a better reality. I dream of a place where kids don’t have to hide in stories. I hope for a place where we escape to fantasy just for the sake of it and no because we are scared. This is what I hope for. A better place. A better future. A better life. Hope.

Fiction: Group 4

Only in My Memory Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Yip, Tiffany - 17, Fiction: Group 4

ing watered the flowers standing on the window ledge carefully. They were an assortment of daisies. As she closed the window, she couldn't help but look at the bridge on the river. She refrained herself from sighing, but the wrinkles on her face gave away her sadness.

She was being told during her childhood that the Guangzhu Bridge was one of the biggest achievements of the short-lived Guangdong Provincial Government. It was made of iron and steel, and the materials were said to be taken from an old bridge in London. It was the first few modern bridges in the Pearl River Delta. They said it was one of the strongest bridges in China at that time and she believed. * The visit to Grandma's place has always fascinated Gwen. Gwen's grandmother, who is a very wise lady of a ripe old age, lived in a quiet neighborhood filled with western-styled architectures and pretty roads lined up with trees on both sides. She had always wondered why someone as traditional as Grandma would live in such a fancy European street when there are many other traditional buildings in Guangzhou to choose from. She remembered when she used to come here as a little girl. Grandma lived on the south of the Pearl River, and Gwen and her parents on the north, so it had always been a very exciting experience crossing the river for Gwen. Her father would be driving, and she would look out of the window at the ships sailing quietly on the river. After she moved to Hong Kong to study in university, coming back and revisiting those childhood memories became even more exciting for her. Grandma was a very chatting old lady. Like most people of her age, she loved talking about the past so much. Every time Gwen visited her as a child, she would hear stories of fighting the Japanese, living through the establishment of the PRC, and how she survived all the instabilities and prosperities in the past years. “So there is my Gui Er, all grown-up,” that was the first sentence Grandma said when Gwen stepped into her flat. Grandma just loved to call Gwen her childhood nickname, so she is fine with it. “You look like my younger self.” “Then Grandma must have been a beauty,” Gwen joked. Grandma was extremely witty and easy-going for an old person. “Oh come, darling, and let me tell you about my youth. Many boys fell for me, you know,” Grandma chuckled. That was Grandma telling her story of meeting Gwen’s Grandpa for the tenth time, Gwen thought, but she decided she will just stick with it. * She remembered everything. It was the days of war and terror. She was eighteen, a young, innocent girl wishing onto big things in the future. Guangzhou was already a relatively big and modernized city back then. Her father was a school teacher, and her family lived quite a well-off life. She had two elder brothers and an elder sister. Her home was always filled with books and European antiques collected by her father. She remembered all of these clearly. And of course, there is a ‘he’ in her story. * “…and that is how I ended up with your Grandpa,” Grandma finished her account of their first meeting. “Are you listening, my dear?” Gwen was examining the old cardboard boxes she just found. “Of course, Grandma, but I am sorting out your old stuff for you.” She decided to help Grandma tidy up her house since she had no better things to do. Gwen thought that her grandma deserved some response, and so she asked, “Grandma, why did Grandpa and you worked out so well? You didn’t even know each other before the marriage.” “Oh, we just tried to understand each other. For example, he has always liked this flat,” Grandma looked around, smiling. “I preferred the north of the river – I grew up on that side, after all – but he would never want to sell this flat and I decided to live here for the rest of my life then.” Cheesy love stories are always lovely to listen to. “Tell me more.” *

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Fiction: Group 4

He was a boy of ideas and opinions. He was a political young man, believing in building a stronger home country. He was a soldier, serving the government. He was a friend of her father. She felt in love with him the moment she met him. Their love was young and passionate and well – revolutionary. After enduring years of war, they thought a peaceful time and a New China would come, and they would live happily ever after. They never knew how wrong they were, for another war would arrive, one that was fought between brothers and neighbors, tearing up families and couples once again. * Gwen retrieved an old sepia photo from the heaves of useless items. The two people in the photo made her take an interest in it. “Grandma, this is you… but that is not Grandpa. Am I right?” Gwen pointed at a young girl in pigtail braids and a boy of similar age in military uniform in the picture. “How long are you working in Guangzhou, my dear?” Grandma asked. “Oh, I’m not sure. I have signed a contract of two years,” Gwen replied. “No, that isn’t Grandpa. Grandpa didn’t even look like this.” “Oh shush. Why can’t young people be quiet these days?” “No, but – “ Grandma obviously chose to stay deaf for the moment. “When are you bringing me to see your little boyfriend?” Grandma asked bluntly. “Oh, he’s in Hong Kong now. He is not coming with me,” she shrugged. “You know there is this new bridge they are building? Travelling between Hong Kong and Guangzhou would be even faster in the future. If you want to go to Hong Kong, I can bring you there.” “You won’t see him for more than a year then?” “I’m not sure. His is going to Macau soon, so if I get the chance to work there, I may go and meet up with him. He is going to the States next month, so I don’t really know. I have to work. He has to work. I guess we will try squeeze some time. We now talk on the phone every day.” Grandma looked at this young girl talking about her boyfriend. Oh, young love. “Anyway, who is that boy in the picture?” Gwen definitely had no intention to let the topic drop. Grandma just kept chuckling and paid more attention to the daisies on the window ledge than she probably should. “Dad doesn’t know about it, right? If you are not telling me, I’ll ask him,” Gwen urged. Grandma was soft-hearted when it came to her only granddaughter. “Okay girl, time to keep quiet.” * She was reading a book while listening to the radio that afternoon. She wasn’t reading actually. She was too distracted by the radio. “The Communists are coming to Guangzhou.” They said. Her father was coming home from work soon, so were her brothers. “It is okay, the war is ending soon,” her sister said to her, though her smile couldn’t cover the doubts in her eyes. It was the year 1949. She wasn’t sure if she wanted the war to end or not. The ending of the war would mean the defeat of the Nationalists, but if the fighting carried on, it would mean a higher chance for him to lose his life. * “Oh Grandma, you had a past,” Gwen expressed her surprise. She suddenly realized how silent Grandma had become. The spark in Grandma’s eyes died away, replaced with creased eyebrows on that aged face. “Tell me what happened, please?” Gwen asked. * The door bell rang. “May I speak to Lady Ling?” Standing at the doorsteps was him, in his full military uniform, looking as handsome as eve. She met him at the door. Before he spoke, she could already feel the sense of urgency and danger. “We are losing.” He started off directly. “The Communists’ army is coming to town in a few hours. We have suffered too many losses and they are stronger than ever before.” Ling expected this, didn’t she? She had heard too much on the radio.

Fiction: Group 4

“You… you will win them. And if you don’t, just… just come back and do not be a soldier anymore. Even if the Communists take over, we can live together happily,” Ling half-assured. She didn’t want to believe anything or anyone in that moment. “This is not the only problem. The thing is that, you see, many of the Nationalists’ forces have retreated to Taiwan. So… if we can’t win the Communists today, the Commander-in-Chief has given us orders. I will have to bring my troops to Taiwan, at least for the moment, but I don’t know how long that would be,” he explained. Don’t go on. Please. “Bring me with you. I will go with you to Taiwan.” Ling pleased. It wasn’t very appropriate for a middle-class young lady to say, but she was hopeless. “No, it is too dangerous, darling. And even if we reach Taiwan, life would be very hard. And…” he paused. “And I can’t let your father down. He has been such a good mentor to me, and he wouldn’t want me to bring you into danger. What would you relatives and neighbors think of you? Eloping with a Kuomintang officer to Taiwan? When the Communist Party comes to power, everything will be very different. I don’t want to bring your family any trouble.” Ling was a girl with brains. She knew what was going to happen, but she just didn’t want to admit it. “I… I understand. The country is more important, isn’t it?” she looked around to see if there was anyone around, confirmed that they were alone and grabbed his hands. “Be safe and come back.” “I will.” She took off the earring on her right earlobe, and pressed the delicate crafting of a firethorn into his palms. “Take this with you. Come back and return it to me.” “I will,” the young man promised. But during the war, you cannot foresee anything, nor keep any promise you made. * Gwen’s sight traced its way to Grandma’s earlobes. On her left was a silver flower, but she had nothing on her right. * Who would actually care about rules like not running into the middle of a battle at the age of eighteen? Ling didn’t. She believed she was on the edge of losing her mind. “Back away! Back away!” The Nationalists were finally at the Guangzhu Bridge. Her eyes found him naturally among the great number of soldiers, a young lieutenant leading his troops beside the captain. He wouldn’t have noticed her, and it was best he didn’t. “Little girl, what are you doing there?” she heard the people yelling at her. Behind, people were clearing away from the streets. Shopkeepers packed away their stocks, and the people were dashing home in a panic. Ling didn’t care about dying at all. She was too consumed in her desperation. She could see the Communists coming from behind. Their eyes look like hungry wolves dying to catch their prey. They kept firing at and chasing after the Nationalist Army that was retreating via the bridge. Smoke and gunfire filled the air and irritated Ling’s eyes. She realized that she was crying. Whether they were physical or mental tears she couldn’t quite figure out. Why would there be so many wars? Why can’t they – Boom. As if on cue, a grenade exploded. She didn’t move. “Ling!” A giant hand snatched her from behind and pulled her away from the promenade. Her vision was blurred again. Her view turned into a mixture of red and black. Through the tears and smoke, her gaze was still fixed on the bridge. There were only Communists left on the bridge, hunting down their enemy. And then, there was another explosion. And another. Now she found her balance, she figured out that the explosion came from the bridge. Fire was burning brightly on the bridge, and as the tower foundations tumbled down, the fire spread and merged with the water. The sky was filled with sparks and debris, like mini fireworks. She remembered being dragged into the smaller and quieter streets. She was brought home and was being scolded harshly that night. She didn’t stop crying until the next morning.

Fiction: Group 4

In fact, she had never stopped crying inside her heart. There is no way to let it go. There is no way to reunite. It was months later that she learnt that it was the Nationalists who burnt down the bridge while retreating. It was a year later that she accepted the truth that he was gone and the battle ended. It was two years later that she was married to another man of equal qualities. It was ten years later that she learnt that he had retreated to Hong Kong then settled down in Taiwan. * Grandma closed her eyes from the nostalgia. “Would you like to meet him again, if you have the chance?” Gwen asked with concern. “Of course I do. Perhaps your grandfather is listening somewhere up there, but I do want to see him again,” Grandma admitted. “But I won’t, even if I have the chance.” * Ling was watching over the Pearl River again. It was her favorite seat in the house. The Guangzhu Bridge was being rebuilt. It was the early years of this new nation. “We are proposing the socialist movement…” the radio said. The door bell rang. Must be the postman. “I’ve got a letter for you,” said her sister. “It’s from Hong Kong.” She took her letter and read carefully. That was his handwriting. Scruffy yet aligned. In the letter he told her that he had lived in Hong Kong for all those years after his retreat, and would soon be moving to Taiwan to avoid any prosecution from the Chinese Government. Ling knew the reality. Her family has suffered enough being suspected of alliance with the Nationalists. There is no way she could meet him again. “So that’s a goodbye.” She put her head on her palm, thinking over and over the days of youth and war and love and fire. Her fingers touched her earlobe unintentionally, the piercing now replaced by a new pair of earrings given by her husband. * “Why would you not? You loved each other so much! And this stupid war just pulls everything apart. Why would you not want to meet him again?” Gwen was a little bit agitated. She felt so unfair for her grandmother. “No, my dear. Sometimes separating is the best option we have,” she said, “and so many times we have no other options.” * The family arrived at the Southern end of the Guangzhu Bridge. They put Grandma in a wheelchair so they could easily find the best spot on the bridge. “Why do we need to make a fuss out of this? It takes so much work to come here. My flat can see the fireworks alright,” Grandma mumbled. “This is the best spot to see the fireworks in Guangzhou – right on the Pearl River,” Gwen said. “And I’m leaving for Hong Kong in a week’s time, so it’s best if the whole family can come and celebrate the New Year together. I’ll stop by at Zhuhai first – my boyfriend just so happened to be there for a week. You wouldn’t believe how easy moving around is now. I can leave tomorrow evening and still have plenty of time... Oh, that’s the firework!” Gwen screamed excitedly. Red, blue, silver… the fireworks drew outlines of flowers on the dark canvas. The ships setting off the fireworks on the Pearl River were so close to the bridge Gwen felt like they were covered in orange sparks. Only this time, there were only the explosions of the fireworks, not the bridge. “Grandma, is that pair of earrings new? Last time you were wearing the flower one,” noticed Gwen. “Eh, it’s none of your business, kid,” Grandma started to get a bit grumpy. “And it was a firethorn.” Gwen took the cue and switched to another topic. “Oh well, I asked Jeff to look for that guy in the archive. I have got a copy of the news…” “Shush, young lady. I told that I am not interested anymore. Can’t you just keep your mouth shut and watch the fireworks?” Gwen decided to listen to her grandmother but she knew that there were so many words Grandma didn’t say under her ranting. *

Fiction: Group 4

It was another wintery afternoon, and Ling sat at the yard reading newspaper. “Former Colonel died aged 90.” The yard’s temperature suddenly dropped a few degrees. The trees looked barer and even more pathetic. “So long,” the old lady murmured. She closed her eyes, dwelling herself in memories and history. “Grandma? We are ready. Are you coming see the fireworks?” Gwen poked her head out from the balcony and asked. “Gui Er, I’m coming. Wait for me,” she folded her newspaper and strolled back as she slowly took off her firethorn stud earring. * Ling looked at the fireworks, and moved her sight to the river. That was her generation – drifting, ever-changing as they get carried away by the flow. The river was dark and deep. One moment it reflected the vivid colors of the fireworks, next it turned into a pure black pit. The river had nurtured the city and contained a story and a history for every generation. She sighed and let her memories drift away with the water along the Pearl River, and to the Channel, and out into the sea. The fireworks ended and people were leaving on both sides of the bridge. It was one of the strongest bridges in China, so they said.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Pui kiu College, Au, Allison - 12, Fiction: Group 4

ack yawned. He was bored to death. His history teacher, Ms.Emal was babbling about ancient weird Gods and evil creatures of whatever-place-she-just-said. He gazed out the window and saw his principal, Principal Pearl beside a river; he seemed to be doing something suspicious. Jack grinned. He

thought Principal Pearl was the coolest principal on Earth. He did all sorts of things principals weren’t supposed to do, like having a conversation with the river when you were supposed to be writing reports and making students stand in the naughty corner. Jack forced his head to turn back to Ms.Emal. Her name was written on the whiteboard. He stared at it for a few moments and thought about it. Emal. He spelt it backwards – lame. He smirked and decided Emal was an extremely suitable name for his history teacher. Jack met his friend, Simon, the next day at the bus stop. His heart sank when Simon told him they would be going to a history museum. Jack was so miserable he didn’t even bother to annoy the bus driver. They arrived at the museum. Apparently everyone was in a bad mood so no one took notice of their guide who was obviously trying very hard to catch their attention. Jack was sulking in a corner while their guide was talking about some ancient evil water creature chewing up the river God or something. He caught a glimpse of the water creature’s appearance, strange… it looked a bit like Principal Pearl. After what seemed like forever, they were allowed to return home. Simon had left all his assignments at school, so he had to go back and fetch them from his locker. Jack tagged along with him. The two friends walked in silence along the streets, heading towards darkness. Their school looked like a place they would go for Halloween at night. Jack and Simon passed the guard who was slumped on a chair napping. The school should probably fire him. They were shaking all over, partly from the cold and partly from fear. They strolled past the river where Jack had seen principal Pearl the day before. Simon glanced at the river, it seemed there was something stirring in the water, but Simon shrugged off the thought and ran ahead to join Jack. And behind them a terrifying sea monster soundlessly arose from the river and stalked them with an evil glint in its eyes. The boys were halfway through the corridors when they heard a deep hissing sound in the shadows. They stopped abruptly. They slowly turned to face the shadows. A snarl. It sounded ancient and powerful and carried a faint accent in its voice. Jack couldn’t help but think they were about to be chewed up like what the evil water creature did to the river God. He wondered if this was how the river God felt when he was about to explore someone’s stomach and felt a pang of sympathy for him. He glanced at Simon and saw he had gone pale and was trying not to scream. Jack considered that if he wanted to be a hero and get a girlfriend, he would have to stand up to the evil creature like a man. He found his voice and tried not to sound petrified as he talked.

"Come out from the shadows!" he cried. But his shout came out like a squeak. The creature must have had sensitive hearing as it responded in a sound that sounded like someone who was about to murder two nerdy students. Jack guessed the creature intended to do just that and figured the girlfriend thing could wait. He turned and fled. Simon followed and ran like Usain Bolt. They ran until they were sure they had lost the creature and stopped by the river for a rest. They were still panting after five minutes. They were about to head home when the screeching came again. The voice was just three feet away. Very slowly and cautiously, Jack turned his body to face the dreadful creature. He was face to face with the creature and gasped. Jack could now see clearly what the creature looked like. It had the teeth of the most vicious sharks, the arms of a poisonous octopus, the legs…let’s not mention the legs, and…and the head of…Principal Pearl! "Hello Jack," he said with no emotion in his deep booming voice.

J

Fiction: Group 4

"Principal Pear…Pearl?!?!?!" Jack stuttered. Simon was now also looking at his principal with disbelief in his eyes.

"What…but…how…you…weird." For the first in his life, Simon seemed to be at a loss for words. If they weren’t in such a terrible situation, Jack would have laughed at Simon’s expression. "What are you?" Jack asked. Principal Pearl sighed. He seemed rather annoyed and offended that Jack did not know what he was.

"Didn’t you listen to the guide during your time at the museum?" Once a principal, always a principal. "I am the powerful, awesome all mighty sea monster who chewed up the river dude," he explained. "Also king of the ocean."

Simon knew if he wanted to survive, he would have to distract the king of the ocean’s attention, which was a pretty hard thing to do for a geek like him. "So......um……you’re king Pearl?"

"Uh,duhh!!! " said king Pearl. While king Pearl explained how he was going to murder them, Simon and Jack were trying to think of a plan to escape. Simon said he could distract the principal while Jack sneaked up from behind and pushed him into the river. They couldn’t think of a better plan so they agreed on it. "So...um…how old…are you?" Simon asked. Principal Pearl squinted his eyes, as if sensing he was up to something.

"Well, since today is my birthday, I’m three hundred and one years old." Wow. Simon was really impressed. He didn’t even have to pretend to look surprised. "Woah…you

look good for someone who is like three hundred. So……what kind of cake did you have?" Behind the creature, Simon could tell Jack was trying hard not to laugh, he was shaking

uncontrollably. "Oh, you see my brother is the only relative I know who is alive and I just ate him for dinner. So for

dessert I’ll have you and Jack." In the end, Simon had run out of questions to ask. But Jack was somehow still climbing up the tree and wasn’t making much progress. Eventually, Principal Pearl grew tired of answering questions and seemed a lot more interested in slaughtering them. Jack had fallen off the branch and was lying unconscious on the ground. Simon had no idea how to murder the king of the oceans. Simon glanced at the ground and saw a pink hairbrush. Well, better than nothing. So he picked it up, and aimed it at the king of the ocean’s eye. Principal Pearl was so startled that he lost his balance and staggered backwards, then he was gone. Simon assumed he had fallen into the river and was doing a victory dance, but Jack was so determined not to let Simon be the hero of the story that he jumped into the river and tried to find his principal. He was so joyful when he couldn’t find the body, yet a bit afraid that the creature was still lurking out there. Two days later, Simon and Jack were sent to the police station for questioning. They told them a totally different story, one where they were saving girls from monsters and strangling them with their bare hands. 20 years later, Jack and Simon got their story published. The real one. They never found out what happened to Principal Pearl. The river was named after king Pearl, Pearl River Delta. As for delta, no one knew why Jack put that in the name of the river. If you would like to read their real story, don’t bother buying it online or in bookshops. There is only one copy in the whole wide world, and you’ve just finished reading it.

Fiction: Group 4

Bloodstream Pui Kiu College, Tse, Karen - 15, Fiction: Group 4

ran used to say, “When the robins stop singing, it won’t be long until the river stops flowing.” Or at least, I think that’s what she used to sing about all the time. Me and my brother, we just don’t have the artsy genes to interpret songs correctly.

Well, robins are not singing, but the river flows on. Al and I are sitting on the sloping, hard-packed soil—the river banks. You’d expect a “river banks” to be right next to the river, but in between us and the water is an invisible wall. “Can you believe that behind those walls, there is actual, flowing water?” Al asks. Yes, of course I can very much believe it, even though I don’t see the point of doubting its existence. Either way, we are not benefitted. Don’t get me wronged, however. Al is not only my twin brother; he is also a very sweet and charming best friend. He just gets a little touchy with, let’s say, issues. As if to prove my point, he pulls out a palm-sized wooden pot, completed with a matching lid. “Here’s your present, birthday girl.” I reach for the pot from his dry, calloused hand. Lard and, what seem like raw honey.

Yuck, I want to say. Not exactly the best-smelling thing in the world, but close enough. Close enough to-- what’s it called again? -- Lip balm.

“Nice try, brother.” With that little supply of water, I mean what I say, but it turns out sarcastic. My parents and little brother Kevin didn’t as much as each gave me a slobbery kiss, but still I am grateful. The Pearl River Delta has always been an area with rich water sources, until several decades back then when the rulers realized that despite the spilling water supply, energy is running low. Then some mustachioed guy made the decision that all water was to be collected and redistributed. Water ducts and hydroelectric dams were built. Even a tiny tributary like ours, where I believe is no wider than three foot, is condemned to such fate. We can see no further than the other side of the banks, almost as if a white wall constrict our sight, but rumor says there lives the well-offs. Well-off we are not, but what we got is peace. It is quite peaceful, listening to the soft sloshing of the river if you can ignore the slightly disturbing heat from the unseen walls that incinerates you when you get too close. Water has always been rationed since then. Now even food—mostly bread and oil was. I gouge out some of the translucent white goo of a lip balm and, very gingerly, spread it on my lips. Argh. It tastes horrible. But not without the sudden nourish did I realize how dry and chapped my lips were. We are walking towards the grey slab of concrete that is made up of multiple identical buildings when the national anthem blares out. Al stops in his tracks stiffly. His black hair—black but lighter than mine for a shade—reflects the sunlight in a golden halo. In the wind, his hair looks like bright, flowing water. I’ve been told the same, but I just cannot see how my near-grotesque hair could resemble something so beautiful. We don’t have to stop. We have few rules, while the unspoken ones are aplenty. Still, we wait patiently until the trumpet ends with a long note. A buzz lingers, and what it says couldn’t be clearer—Don’t go. We’re not done yet. A sharp whistle breaks out. The water rations are coming.

We are expected to go back to our family-unit flats before all, and wait for our daily bucketful of purified, drinking-safe water. But seeing I got neither demented nor evil family members that hide, steal or drink my portion, we don’t skitter back home hurriedly.

G

Fiction: Group 4

Purified water is another reason for rationing water. Not that the water is polluted, we were told, it is just to ensure our safety against maggots and monsters that apparently lurk the waters. Al and I take the soundlessly ascending lift together. Our building, despite its monstrous look, is strewn with little trinkets and gadgets so advanced you’d mistaken us as multi-millionaires if you hadn’t noticed our mud-caked nails first. The lift itself has a full-body glass plane, allowing us a glimpse of the brilliant burgundy sky.

“Do you remember that song gran would sing to us all the time?” “Oh, that good old song, eh?” I stare at him. “Did you just use the word “eh”?” He ignores me, and starts singing his tuneless tune. “Robins, please sing me a song.”, he swivels to looks at me. “Then?” He turns around. “I don’t want to sing that song.” I stare at him even harder. “Do come in, sweets!” The door flies open even before we could press down on the buzzer. Clearly,

dad’s been anxiously waiting for our return. Out of the very corner of my eyes, I catch a glimpse of my mother, sitting as stiffly as ever and my

baby brother dishing out whatever it is we are having gleefully. “We were just about to have a little talk! Why don’t you join us, dears?” I am starting to grow suspicious. On how he stresses on the word “little”. On how our family just

doesn’t do little talks. Argh. This is hideous. At the dining table, mom sits, sullen, with her eyes staring straight ahead and Kevin sips tea, gloating

(and no doubt enjoying the scene). “I know what you are about to tell us.” Al says loudly. Well I don’t. As mom speaks on, Kevin’s elbow slides purposefully across the table, making a very ridiculous

squelchy noise. All of a sudden I am using all my willpower to keep myself from laughing. “Kevin!” I mouth at my baby brother, wriggling my brows to show him how serious I am. He giggles menacingly. “—tan? Are you there?” Mom suddenly asks. “Um, yeah, sure.” “You made me miss a whole conversation!” I again, glare furiously at Kevin while silently screaming

the words out. “Kevin! Stop making that ridiculous noise!” Ha. “You heard what I say. Quit it. You are both just children.” It was as if something clicked, the way my brain automatically stops rambling on crazily. It must have

been something serious, to have even my brain to focus. I look at my ashen-faced brother. Al, of all people. Al, who always puts on a brave face, looks like

he’s about to be swallowing fish (a whole raw one with all the fish-slime and fish-goo on it) I want to say stupidly, did I miss something? I reach for the teapot and my cup. It’s empty. Kevin must have drunk it all. Water rations are diminishing. I knew it. My head pounds as I try to recall and digest every single little detail I had managed to question out of

my baby brother. “Man,” he kept saying, making that little hand gesture like he was genuinely helpless. But I know

better. Nobody, absolutely nobody drinks my tea and gets away with it.

Fiction: Group 4

It shocks me how ignorant I’ve been, almost like I’ve been missed out. Almost like when you’re ten and everyone’s been invited to a birthday party except for you.

It turns out that water rations are diminishing, and some weirdo decided that it was some conspiracy plotted to deprive us of the “little freedom we are left with”. Then the weirdo decided to take it one step further and rallied students to gate-crash the “barricade”, namely the electrical fence that zaps you to death if you come too close. Apparently it’s a real big thing. But what makes me want to scream and throw things and punch Kevin is that Al knew about it. He knew about it and he didn’t tell me.

Spying on Al is easier than what I had pictured. Partly because of that glowing hair of his. Largely because I make an excellent stalker.

As Al paces along a quiet strip of the river banks, I can’t help noticing how heavy the air seems to have turned. The smog outside the wall seems to be exerting a great force on the walls, ready to crush it and rush inside, engulfing us whole.

One other thing I can’t help noticing is how everyone Al met on the way and acknowledged, I don’t. And it’s not just one or two random girls. He knows an awful lot of people. At one point I even considered cutting eyeholes in newspaper to not get squinted at. His friends are horribly squinty and rude, but at least they have the good grace to not blow my cover. It’s only natural for a sister to spy on her weird twin brother, is it not?

Natural or not, being a stalker is too mentally demanding. Why do they make spying seem so fun? And why on earth is Al not movinggggg? Bored, I aim a kick at a pebble. It flies in an elegant arc, crashing straight into the unseen walls. Then comes a sizzling sound and with a loud zap, the pebble is gone.

Goodness. That was scary. “Hey,” Al speaks out of the blue. It seems that a girl with curly hair and what people would call a

“braided complexion” showed up while I busied myself trying to look unfazed. “You’re late.” He smiles that good-natured smile of his. Oooh. I didn’t see a secret love affair

coming. Guess I must have underestimated my brother. I take a deep breath and try to inhale as much love in the air as I can.

The girl laughs and I splutter. I know that voice! She tilts her head and say, “It’s you who’s been early.” It’s –what’s her name again?-- Pam. Or

something. She is the evil girl who bullied me into eating all my pickles when I was seven. Twice. What are you doing with my brother?

I cough. Better not take in too much of that poison. “So, what have you got today?” Perry asks. “Same time, same place.” Who do they think they are? Harry Potter?

“It’s outrageous, do you think?” She says lividly as he hands her a carelessly-packaged sack. I gasp. Inaudibly. What is he doing?

I waited impatiently for another fifteen minutes before the girl bounces off hurriedly. “What are you thinking?” I command. I must have made a dramatic entrance, because Al’s mouth falls

open. “What?” He did not look caught out at all. “Have you been spying on me?” He adds suspiciously. “I said, what are you doing with that ra--, girl?” “We were talking.” “You were talking?” I let out a crazy laugh that sounds very much like the type of laugh villainous

villains would laugh like in movies. “You honestly thought I had no idea what you were doing?” “Well, do you?” His face changes. “Yes!” I say defiantly. “Do you really—That’s great. How thoughtless was I to think that you only had your mind on silly,

trivial things.” “I do not!” “I’d like to ask you to join us.” He fixes me with his eyes. “Join you? You traitor! How can you sell that ugly—yes,ugly but still a family owned—necklace to

some random person, let alone make me join you! She’s right! It’s outrageous!” I exclaim, blood boiling. He stares at me. “What on earth—”

Fiction: Group 4

“Don’t what on earth me!” “Do we even have family owned things?” His eyes suddenly clear as if he just came to a ground-

breaking realization. “You have no idea, do you?” “I have every idea—” “I was right. You only had your mind on silly, trivial things.” He sighs. “What about bigger things?

What about things that concern the freedom—a right we are born with—of the people?” “What are you suggesting?” “The movements. Do you know about them?” “What, the water and river stuff?” “Get involved. Help the people to gain back freedom!” I am a little taken aback. Al chants the whole thing out like a battle cry—like he genuinely believes in

them. “But, you don’t think it’s a little…selfish? After all, they take away our river for the good of everyone

in the Pearl River delta, not just us!” “It’s you who’s being selfish!” He says accusingly. “You are just not willing to do something!” That’s it. It’s ridiculous. I am not talking to him. Besides us, perching on a pine tree, a stupid robin chirps a few high notes.

The girl was still sneaking peeks at her brother at a ten-second interval after the sky darkens from a

glowing navy colour to now as it is—an orange so vibrant that it just screams “dawn”. Soon, she knew, the sky would break into an unnaturally white colour.

It is doubtlessly her brother, for their hair bears a likeness—hers a shade lighter, but both shares a resemblance with water. Flowing water. For all I know, there could be a million reasons for why she is here. To check on him could be one of them.

He and his friends were waiting, their feet tapping on the moist ground, making ludicrous squelchy noises she’d sure laugh at the sound of if it wasn’t for the scary air around. It unsettled her just to think about what horrors her brother was up to, and she wasn’t a person easily unsettled.

In a blink of as eye their moment arrived. He pulled out a wooden club. She imagined herself bludgeoning him with that.

“Wooden,” He mouthed, more to himself than anyone in particular. She knew what he was up to before he struck the barricade with all his might. Then came a small

explosion, where sparks flew in all directions in a blinding flash of brilliant gold. “Nice,” his friends murmured as they observe the now-visible length of barbed wire fence. “I didn’t

think there would actually be a weak point before, how they used every possible mean to lodge us here…” “Prison…” Some of the words they utter were hazy.

He hit it once more and, like rain sliding off a roof, the invisible coat fell off and a opening was formed, like a gaping mouth. A gash of white smoke puffed out from the mouth, but nobody took notice.

Something was wrong, she thought. They broke down the rest of the barricade, but when they realized something was up, it all did not

matter. There was no river. All there was before their eyes was a mound of river-shaped……everything. Like the Pearl River had somehow emptied itself of water and filled it with the contents of a dumpster instead. Heaps of white foam layering between filthy black water; solid clumps of white and red and orange and blue keeps the river from flowing; algae bloomed magnificently above the trash and fifth… … A red-chested robin sits silently, eying all that was happening. They seemed to be oblivious of a fact that even the robin knew well—that it’s long since the river actually flowed. There are no rivers anymore. The fact that they are oblivious to that, living and eating well, well, they should be grateful for that.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Puikiu College, Brothers, Chloe - 12, Fiction: Group 4

he Pearl River Delta is a vast low lying area of over 35,000 square kilometres situated where the Pearl River meets the South China Sea. It is home to over 70,000,000 people working in many different jobs. One family living and working in the Pearl River Delta, is the Wong family. Mr & Mrs Wong and

their children, Ah Fung who is 14 years old and Yan Yan who is 8 years old, and their cat Milo. The Wongs all live on an old fishing boat, and make a living by going out to sea each day to catch fish and bring back to Hong Kong to sell in the markets. They are working very hard to save up to buy a new boat.

It is now in the summer and Ah Fung and Yan Yan are on school holidays and help with the daily fishing. One day they all woke up to go fishing, and Mr Wong saw on the horizon many dark clouds. He checked the weather report and it also said a very dangerous storm was approaching the Pearl River Delta, and no boats should go out to sea. But since he was saving up to buy a new boat, Mr Wong could not afford to miss out on even one days work, so he still decided to take the boat out and go fishing. He told his wife and children to put on their life vests and be ready for rough seas. Mrs Wong did not want them to go out on the seas, and told Mr Wong that she felt it was too dangerous. But Mr Wong still decided that they had to go anyway.

They went out far into the sea and started fishing. As there were not many other boats around, they seemed to be catching lots of fish and everything was ok. However it was not too long and then the clouds quickly blew in and the big storm hit them. The wind and waves were very strong and their old boat was thrown around like a toy in a bathtub. The waves were higher than the boat itself and the wind was blowing the rain almost sideways. Ah Fung and Yan Yan were very scared and completely soaked by the heavy rains.

All of a sudden, a big wave hit their boat and many things were washed overboard. Tables, chairs and fishing equipment. Mr Wong told everyone to quickly head to the deck below and hold on. But before they could go down, another big wave hit them, and this time poor Milo the cat was swept overboard. Yan Yan cried out to her father that Milo was in the water, but Mr Wong could not do anything, as it was too dangerous to try to rescue Milo.

Ah Fung and Yan Yan then rushed down to the lower deck with their mother, while Mr Wong battled to keep their boat floating and to try to save all the other family belongings from being washed away. Mrs Wong and the children huddled below the deck and listened to the howling winds and heavy rains battering their old boat. Mrs Wong was very worried about her husband and was praying that he would not be swept overboard like Milo.

Gradually the wind and rain began to stop and they could the feel the boat was rocking less and less. Mr Wong finally came down and told them it was safe to come back on deck. When they got back to the deck, they saw many broken things and a lot of mess. Mr Wong looked exhausted from fighting the storm and he had lots of scratches and bruises from being hit by many flying objects.

Mrs Wong and the children were so relieved that he was ok and that the boat was still floating. They all did their best to try to clean things up on the deck and Mr Wong went down to the engine room to try to fix the engine, which got flooded in the storm. The engine was soon fixed and they started the long sail back to Hong Kong. Suddenly Yan Yan called out “look over there, it’s Milo!”. Sure enough, Milo had managed to find a piece of a broken table and climb up on it and hold on during the storm. Mr Wong jumped into the water to get Milo and to bring him back on board. Yan Yan and Ah Fung were so happy that Milo had been found, and of course Milo was also very happy he had been found, as cats really do not like water at all.

Now they were all safely back on board, they got some soft drinks and sandwiches from the old fridge and celebrated with a snack while their boat headed back home. After arriving back in Hong Kong, they spend several hours cleaning up the mess on the boat and making some repairs. That night they all had a lovely seafood dinner and gave thanks for making it through the terrible storm and getting back home safely.

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Although they all managed to get back safely, Mrs Wong scolded Mr Wong for taking them all out on the boat and putting them in danger. She told him that even though they need to earn money to buy the new boat, it is not worth the danger to put anyone’s life at risk to do that work.

Mr Wong was very apologetic and agreed with her and promised to always put the safety of his wife and children first in future.

Ah Fung and Yan Yan now had an exciting story to tell their friends at school. The next day was bright and sunny and once again the Wongs headed out to sea for the day of

fishing!

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Puikiu College, Chan, Tze Yan - 12, Fiction: Group 4

heryl was bored. Her parents were rich, and they loved traveling. They were now in Zhu Hai. Her parents had to meet a customer, so they left her at the Pearl River Delta to study the Chinese white dolphins while they had a meeting.

She dived straight into the water, but then suddenly a vortex sucked her in… Cheryl screamed until her throat was raw. She heard a muffled BOOM, and then the vortex dumped her ungraciously in front of a Chinese White Dolphin. The dolphin chattered, “Hi, I’m Daphene, questions later, you’re going to be late! Oh, and you can breathe down there.” Cheryl stared at Daphene, and followed her underwater. They arrived at a majestic palace. As they walked, Daphene chattered on and on about the royal palace. Cheryl stopped listening very quickly. They stopped at the grand throne room. Calling it grand wasn’t enough. The roof was a giant dome, lined with pearls and jewels and precious metal, and the floor was white marble, polished so finely that it shone under her feet. Countless jewels were strewn into the walls, making them sparkle under the sunlight. When she asked Daphene whom they would be meeting, Daphene stared at her, astonished, then said, “We’re meeting the Dragon king, Louis the fourth!” Cheryl’s jaw dropped in surprise. She quickly closed it as they neared the king. “This is Cheryl?” the king commanded. Daphene bowed her head and answered, “Yes, your majesty.” The king looked at Cheryl, and sighed. “I am sorry to drag you here, but the portal that links the Mystic world to Earth is cut off, and my people cannot travel between the two worlds. Will you help us?” She nodded. “Thank you. I will send for my son. He will accompany you.” “Thank you, your majesty.” Cheryl curtsied. Daphene took her out of the throne room. Outside, a handsome boy waited. “Hi,” Cheryl stammered. “That’s the king’s son! You don't say ‘hi’! My lord, please forgive us.” Daphene whispered. The young prince smiled at them, a twinkle in his eyes. “Please call me Chris. Shall we move?” Cheryl followed him to a beautiful boat, with Daphene closely behind. As they traveled, Cheryl learnt more about the prince and the portal. Chris was the son of a human girl who somehow found her way into the court under the water that had no human men, and the king found her and fell in love with her, so Chris has two forms: dragon and human. A scientist found the portal, and the royals commanded the humans to be left alone. One day, when the portal failed to bring people back and forth, the scientist said that there might be some force blocking it, and only a Fae girl can help. Cheryl fell asleep as the gentle rocking of the waves rose and fell. She dreamt of a pair of weird looking monsters. The first monster said, “Brother, I sense the presence of a Fae girl, should we retreat?” The second monster snarled, “No, You fool! We will stand strong. That girl doesn’t even know what we are, she will be beaten easily.” Then her dream changed abruptly. A familiar looking lady appeared. Cheryl turned and saw her face, and gasped, “Aunt Tilly?” “Yes, but we do not have time to waste, come quickly!” They hurried through a garden and stopped at a courtyard. Aunt Tilly sighed, then said, “I am sorry, my child, that we hid the truth from you all along. You are the child of an angel and a devil. You are Fae. You were destined to defeat the hated daemons of the river, the ones that are blocking the river portal of the Mystic world; the ones that you saw in your dreams. Please help the

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dragons!” Cheryl was astonished, but she didn’t refuse to help, and said calmly, “I wish I’d known this earlier, but the past cannot be changed. I will help.” Aunt Tilly looked at her gratefully, and faded into the rocking waves, as Cheryl was shaken awake. “Cheryl? What happened? You were sweating and murmuring in your sleep!” Chris slowly came into focus as Cheryl woke up. “I… I had a weird dream… I saw a pair of weird daemons, talking about retreating and Fae girls, then I saw my dead aunt, telling me that I am Fae…” Chris’s face contorted as he struggled with the new information, then smoothed over as he understood what she meant. Chris finally knew what was the thing blocking the portal. Fae were once the greatest rulers of earth, but the arrival of caveman sent them back to the heavens. Also, Father had told him that his ancestors had once made a great mistake, refusing to help an old woman, therefore forcing her to hate the underwater court. She had borne a set of twins with a local river daemon, seeking revenge on the court. When she died, and the twins set off to find trouble everywhere. Now, they seek to block the portal between the two worlds, to cut off help before attacking. But they were dumb. They didn’t know that if they attack, the portal would be left undefended. Chris planned to use this to his advantage. “Also, we have Cheryl, who is Fae… she didn’t seem really Fae… but we'll have to take our chances.” Chris thought to himself. He quickly explained his thoughts to the others. They agreed with him easily. Daphene was to swim back to court as fast as possible to tell the citizens to retreat, and Chris and Cheryl would try to hold off the demons when they came back without victory. Chris handed a lightweight shortsword from the boat to Cheryl, telling her how to hold it, then picking a broadsword and a dagger for himself. Daphene set off at once, babbling about cakes and fish to eat once rewarded. “Cakes?” Cheryl asked. “Uh… I don’t know.” Chris replied. Once Chris taught Cheryl the basics of sword fighting and gave her an underwater breathing charm, they hurriedly scrambled to the underwater portal. The daemons were just leaving when they arrived. Chris tensed as he saw the ugly daemons. Suddenly, one of the daemons whipped around, stopping at their precise direction. “Oh, my dear little friends, you have come at last…” It said in a particularly sweet-as-honey-but-I’m-gonna-stab-you-to-death manner. “Where’s your little dolphin friend? I’ll have fun chasing her down…” It’s voice hardened a bit, and Chris leaned forward, wanting nothing more than hunting it down and tearing it to bits, if not for Cheryl holding him back. Cheryl whispered so quietly that the daemon couldn’t hear, “I’m going to let you go in 3 seconds. Then we are going to burst out while he’s distracted by his own talk, and beat him up into pulps.” Chris nodded determinedly. As M1, (Cheryl and Chris gave them names) kept on talking, Cheryl mouthed, “3,2,1!” and they jumped out, with Chris in dragon form, talons outstretched, and Cheryl giving her best shot at an angry look, hoisting her shortsword. M1 gave a mocking laugh, then engaged in battle with his brother daemon. Cheryl was holding her own quite well, battling the brother M2, and Chris was grabbing at M1 with his sharp talons, wounding him in several places. But even with this, the daemon brothers were still beating the duo. Cheryl and Chris were preparing to draw back and wait for help when suddenly Daphene appeared, spinning happily and yelling, “Wait! Reinforcements are coming!!!” M1’s eyes narrowed, then grabbed a crossbow and shot a bolt right to Daphene’s heart. Time seemed to have stopped. Cheryl gave a primal roar, as her ears pinned back, her canines enlonginated, senses suddenly enhanced… they all knew she had turned Fae. She unleashed a wall of raw power so harsh, it left Chris back in human form and both the daemons disintegrated. Then she shifted back and slumped down on the riverbed. Chris rushed over and asked, “Are you all right?” Cheryl answered tiredly, “Yes, I’m all right. Just… please go check on Daphene!” Chris rushed over to check on Daphene, Cheryl limping slowly as she regained her energy. “She’s not dead, but she’s on the verge of it. We’ve got to bring her back to court now!” He said seriously to Cheryl. 5 minutes later, Cheryl was sitting on dragon-Chris, holding a limp Daphene, everybody hoping that she would live.

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When they arrived court, they sent Daphene to the infirmary, then met the king. King Louis said, “Thank you for saving our people from the river daemons. I present you this pendant that allows you to travel from Earth to our river court, and we sincerely thank you for your help. You can use the pendant to travel back home now. No time will pass.” The whole court said, “All hail savior of the portal!” Cheryl touched the pendant, and she was whisked back to the shore of the river delta. She smiled to herself, and promised that one day, she would go back.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Puikiu College, Ko, Max - 12, Fiction: Group 4

he president of China was angry.

By the year 3015, China had become the head of the world. To celebrate the birthday of the president, Tom’s birthday, the authorities threw a huge party. Unfortunately, the Earth had

been so polluted that there is only a skinny strip of land from the once flourishing Pearl River Delta, which is only suitable for growing fungi. It is so tiny that only ants can live there, so humans have to move to the moon in order to survive, and the only food people can eat are pills. So when all the dancing and games are over, president Tom boomed,

“I am starving! What is for dinner tonight?!” His right hand man and best friend, Jerry, said,

“My president, the main course for tonight is… fried ants with mushrooms!!!!!!!” Tom was struggling to keep his temper under control as he asked his next question,

“My friend, isn’t there anything else to eat?” Jerry shrugged and said,

“Well, I don’t think there is anything wrong with that dish, but if you don’t want to eat that, then there is always the Rainbow Pills!!”

“What! Again! This dish might be the reason that we are the rulers of the world, but that doesn’t mean it has flavor!!! I want REAL food, not just a dish of ants or pills!! For thousand of years, the Pearl River Delta had been called the Food Heaven, and yet now we don’t have anything heavenly to eat!!!! Somebody better give me the answer to this situation in ten seconds, or else I will cut all of your salaries! Ten, nine, eight, seven … “

The officers shifted around nervously. It isn’t every day your boss wants to cut your pay. Fortunately, Jerry thought of an idea in the last second, so he said right before Tom finished shouting

“On …” “Mr. President, stop that countdown, for I have just thought of the most brilliant solution to our

problem. Our scientists have just invented a time machine. Then we can use it to go back in time. However, the drawback is that only the first 2 digits of the year can be changed.”

“Let’s go to 2015, according to the history books, the Pearl River Delta region then was modern and prosperous.”

“But Mr. President, there were unprecedented levels of pollution in 2015, as well as a lack of food supply regulations. The illicit dumping of chemical wastes caused the contamination of soil and water with acid and heavy metal. We are still enduring the consequences. There were numerous records of food scares during that era. Think of the gutter oil scandal, the melamine tainted milk, the rodent BBQ lamb, and the bleached bean sprout...”

Jerry was getting quite frustrated over the fact that their ancestors were so reckless in their ways of treating the environment, the calm manner he so often adopted was slipping away from him.

“Stop! That’s enough,” the President ordered in a steely voice. He knew his friend was stressed and sympathized with him, but he could not afford for Jerry to lose it in front of other his colleagues and friends.

“How about we try to go to one of Master Jiang’s scrumptious feasts in about 1915?” A bit of humor crept back into Jerry’s eyes, they twinkled with the playful mischief the President and him shared once upon a time, when no such food problems plagued them.

“Who is Master Jiang?” Tom was genuinely confused as he couldn’t recall such a historical figure. “He was the most famous food critic in the Pearl Delta River of all time. All Chinese celebrities,

like Sun Yat Sen, in his era enjoyed a Master Jiang banquet in his manor. All food was served from farm to table.”

“Great idea! If that works, then your jobs are safe.” A delighted smile lit up Tom’s face.

*** Tom and Jerry walked quickly towards the Lab de Tom Company, which was the largest science

base in the world. Computers hung on the walls, each with a scientist behind it, furiously typing or searching for ways to sustain the wasting land. In the middle of the room, a large ball was proudly presented

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in a glass cage, with the words “Timetwister” printed on its side. Tom figured that it must be the name of the time machine Jerry mentioned, so he signaled his right hand man to get in it with him. They typed in the setting and pressed a button. With a blinding flash it evaporated. Master Jiang was inviting guests to an amazing feast of his when the Timetwister landed right in front of his doorstep. Surprised, he crept to the side of the weird machine. Just when he got to the side of the door, it popped up and almost smacked him in the face. Confused, Master Jiang tried to look inside the alien vehicle, but then Tom and Jerry crawled out of Timetwister, desperately gasping for air after being cramped inside the time machine for so long.

Master Jiang helped them up and with a puzzled expression he asked, “Are you all right? How did you fall out of the sky? What is that thing?”

Tom wasn’t in the mood to answer questions, but in order to get food; he managed in a weak voice, “We’re not really okay. My friend and I---um---were just walking on the street next to the English base camp in Hong Kong when a soldier suddenly jumped behind us and tied us up. The next thing I knew our, um, basket was thrown into the air and it sailed around the orbit for four days until it crashed down here. Am I right Je---er, Jing?”

Jerry answered, “Err, yes, we did. Now Tom---um, I mean, Tang, and I are awfully hungry after being without food for four days! Hey, are you Master Jiang? The awesome man who hosts fantastic feasts? If you have one today, could you please invite us to it? We are starving to death right here!”

Master Jiang could never stand seeing anyone starving. Ignoring all the strangeness around him, he said, “Come in quick! Dinner is served in five minutes! You are just in time!”

They walked inside the mess hall. Platters of food lined the table. Tom started to drool. This was exactly everything he had dreamed of for his whole life. Master Jiang Snake Soup made of snake, chicken, herbs and crisps, Master Jiang Chicken, Master Jiang Tofu.... Tom couldn’t believe his eyes. With every bite of the chicken he said, “Delicious!” The tofu was creamy, and the soup was amazing, with so many different flavors mixed up together. The two friends carried a dreamlike expression on their faces. It was an experience that was both unsettling and beautiful.

Just as they were enjoying the feast, Master Jiang said, “All right everybody, now that you have stuffed yourselves; it’s time for dessert! But, before that, please line up and pay the bill. This place is guarded, so escape isn’t an option. Now go go go!”

Poor Tom and Jerry, in 3015, money wasn’t the currency as there were no trees to make paper. An idea came into Tom’s mind this time. He took out his Xiaomi 10000, the latest smartphone in the future and gave it to Master Jiang. Master Jiang asked, “What does that do?! It’s…” he paused and pressed the circle in the bottom of the phone. The screen lit up and he swiped it, but it didn’t turn into a silver tael or anything. He continued madly, “A piece of junk!!!! It doesn’t do anything but let you move its—eh—picture thing! And the picture doesn’t even change! You’d better give me something better, or else…”

He was interrupted by an American businessman with a suit labeled “Jobs”. Mr. Jobs eyed the product thoughtfully, then recognised this tiny box as something of great potential and worth. Trying to keep his excitement in check, he said, “Um, actually, I would pay one hundred silver taels to buy that so called “piece of junk”. Will you sell it to me for that amount of taels?”

“Of course I will. This stupid metal rectangular object won’t do me any good! I can’t believe someone is dumb enough to pay so much for that idiotic piece of rolling rubber-like thing. Here, take it and just give me the coins.”

While Master Jiang was busy talking to Mr. Jobs, Tom and Jerry snuck some food into their bags and left. They went back to the future and used the 4D Scan-and-Make-Like-Real Bot to make life sized real taste prototypes of the food they had stolen.

Back in the past, Master Jiang was so happy to receive such a large amount of silver taels that he forgot that Tom and Jerry hadn’t paid yet. Mr. Jobs didn’t know what to do with the device he had bought yet, as the technology then didn’t enable him to replicate the wondrous block, so he recounted the day’s events in a letter enclosed with the smartphone for his descendants. In the year 2007, his grandson Steve Jobs used the Xiaomi’s pieces to create the second smartphone in the word – the iPhone.

Finally, the president of China is no longer angry...or hungry.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta

Puikiu College, Wong, Benjamin - 12, Fiction: Group 4

ustin is standing by the window overlooking Shenzhen City. If the weather is good, he can see the Pearl River from the window. However, the sky is hazing over in light grey today, causing poor visibility. This heavy smog has been smothering the Pearl River Delta Region for the past week. “Please do clear away

by this weekend! It will be terrible going hiking without a clear blue sky.” Justin’s father is running a car factory. Business is good because the demand for cars is increasing.

Rarely can they have dinner together because working overtime is a common practice for his father. However, since this Saturday is Justin’s birthday, his father has promised to go hiking with Justin.

In the evening, when Justin is eating his simple dinner, he happens to notice something strange. A flower is missing from the flower pot in the balcony. He is quite sure that there were five when he was watering them yesterday.

“Did you eat one of them, Bo Bo? You should eat your cat food. ” “Meow!” looking innocent, the little cat complains. Actually, it is quite unlikely that Bo Bo has eaten

one of the flowers because there is no sign that the flower has been pulled out. It has just vanished as if it never existed. Even stranger, there is a special coin lying beside the flower pot with the number 2040 engraved on it.

“Oh! That’s weird,” Justin thought to himself. The next morning, woken up by the sound of Bo Bo, the strange thing happened again. “Oh! A

flower is missing again!” There are only three now left in the flower pot. “What happened? Bo Bo?” The little pussy cat keeps mewing at a big carton box at the corner of the

balcony as if she has found a mouse. But it is not a mouse, crouching behind the empty carton box is a little boy between the age of ten to twelve, more or less the same age as Justin.

“Who are you? How did you get into my house?” Justin notices that the boy is holding a glass case with two flowers inside.

“Those are my flowers! Why did you steal my flowers?” The boy is trembling like a leaf. “I’m sorry. I, I didn’t mean to steal them. I’ve put down my, my money,” the boy is pointing at the

strange coin beside the flower pot as he stammers. “Oh! Don’t fool me with your toy money. If you don’t tell me the truth, I am going to call the

police,” Justin threatens the boy. “Please don’t!” begs the little boy. “Actually, I came from the year 2040.” “Wow! You mean you come from the future!” exclaims Justin, feeling excited since reading science fiction books is his favorite pastime.

“Yes,” continues the boy. “My name is Robin. I accidentally went inside the time machine invented by my father during his experiment and then … when I came out I just found that I’m standing in front of your flowers. They are so beautiful that I just want to bring some back to keep inside our Nature Museum,” explains Robin.

“Flowers in your Nature Museum? They are just some sunflowers,” says Justin incredulously. “Oh! Don’t you know anything?” Robin has recovered from his fear already. “In the year 2040, the

pollution problem around the Pearl River Delta is so serious that many beautiful species of flowers have died out. Everyone who lives in this region must wear an oxygen-supplying face mask when going out. The blue sky can only be seen in books. It is a luxurious view to be enjoyed only in some foreign countries far away from China. Real flowers are kept inside special greenhouses in the Nature Museum.”

Suddenly, a big shining ring appears in the balcony. “Oh, I have to go now. My father must have repaired the time machine. Bye! Nice talking to you but please do something so it’s not too late to save our Earth. Save the blue sky,” Robin says as he rushes into the ring and then disappears into thin air. Justin is glued to the spot, stunned, with Robin’s last words echoing in his ears – save the blue sky!

Ever since this strange encounter, Justin has changed a lot. He starts going to school on his bicycle instead of taking the school bus. He always uses his recycling bag while shopping. He is willing to do anything to help protecting the environment.

To Justin’s surprise, the sky is clear in the morning on Saturday. “Oh! It’s a miracle.” While hiking with his dad, he tells his dad about his strange encounter. Though doubting whether it is another story of

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some science fiction, his dad has promised to shift his production line to develop electric cars which are more environmentally-friendly than those using petroleum.

“Yes, Justin. You are right! We must do something. Anything counts. No matter whether it’s just a tiny little thing, we can still make a change if we want to keep this beautiful blue sky unchanged,” his dad agrees.

Fiction: Group 4

The Lost Utopia S.K.H.Bishop Mok Sau Tseng Secondary School, Choy, Tik Man Mandy - 15,

Fiction: Group 4

here is a stir in the water. I am pulled out of my reverie as I idly stare at the moon beaming at its own reflection in amusement. Ripples in the seawater reflect the shining stars, the stars seem to be cavorting across the night sky with exuberance. I begin to remember how tumultuous life has been

in the city. The garish lights emanating from the buildings, the incessant clings and clangs of construction and the faint miasma of polluted air made me feel somewhat inebriated. I sigh despondently as my memories trail back to when the whole Pearl River Delta was mostly still a kingdom of small villages roaming with fishermen. Back when I was still a young boy immersed in the tranquility of Xunliao Bay. My eyes sprang open as I caught a whiff of smoke piercing through my nostrils like daggers. Drops of sweat trickled down my cheeks as I lay awake, sweltering in the stuffy room. The surroundings were as dark as ever and it soon struck me that my sister Ying was roving in the middle of the night again. A dim-lit candle stood at the corner, allowing my eyes to slowly pry open in the dark. The throes of snores emitting from the other deeply slumbered family members indicated that it was nowhere near morning. Still catching the scent of pungent smoke, I slipped into my sandals and tardily made my way out of the house. The soft sand beneath my feet supported my weight with reluctance, slipping through the cracks of my toes and sandals, but yet they felt warm against my skin. I squinted and spotted an orange flame beaming in the middle of the beach.

”Aren’t you supposed to be asleep brother?” my sister sneered, sensing my arrival. “Your bonfire has a rather peculiar smell.” I quipped. Hearing my sister sigh with exasperation, I trotted

over and sat next to her. “Losing sleep again?” I asked in worry as I gaped at my sisters’ once lustrous black hair now transformed

into a matt of entangled weeds. We were solemnly sitting next to the fire before my sister finally responded “I’m sick, how could I ?” she dolefully replied. I stared at her drowsy expression, remembering how father used to take us fishing back when the water

was safe to tamper with. “Maybe the development really is going to improve our lives.” I remarked optimistically. “Really? Look what it did me,” Ying seethed in hate. With another crash of the waves, she stood up and began strolling off. I watched my sisters’ feeble retreat, her lanky body slowly vanishing into the night, leaving bits of sadness behind. I heaved and tilted my head backwards, getting some shuteye next to the warmth of the orange flame. There were hums. I jostled awake, the fire seemed to have died down a bit as the sky became a tad brighter. The low murmurs continued on without concession. Who would be humming such a horrid tune at this time I wondered. I traced the source of the sound and got back into the house to inspect every room, but there was not a single movement. The indecipherable low hum was beginning to drive me crazy. Maybe it was one of those roguish boys marauding nearby again. I jogged along the coastline, only to come face to face with nothing but a deserted area lined with ubiquitous stalls and drowsy wooden houses. Empty creels and fruit baskets were the only detritus of a cramped and loud beach a few hours ago, leaving the ominous hum dancing across my eardrums. The intensity of the galling hum increased as I stepped closer to the shoreline, the source of the sound seeming to come from the sea. The sun barely rising above the veil of mist that perpetually concealed what lay beyond far ahead, the entire sea seemed quite somnolent. I couldn’t quite make out what was on the other side. Abruptly, the subsonic hum transformed into crispy whistles, leading me to insouciance. Compelled by the pleasant sound, I had the sudden urge to paddle out in search of the person or creature who hummed these tunes. Being the usual pragmatic person, I tried to figure out carefully where to head first, but there wasn’t any time left to spare as the sun crept a little higher. In the end, I came to a decision and hopped onto a random canoe parked along the shore, paddling fanatically towards the mist, heading straight for the area of enigma. Ancient folklore of our village stated that a lost island of enchanted grounds is situated at the centre of the surreal smoke, luring people in. With the canoe shimmying as the waves gently bumped the sides of it, only a single match in hand, I was aimlessly floating around, finding nowhere to land, like a speck of lost star in a misty sky. I listened raptly as

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the whispers sang to their hearts content and was about to doze off when I heard a thump and the canoe came to a stop. I could hear the constant crunching of leaves as I climbed off the canoe and traipsed into the forest. I observed the lush vegetation and towering trees looming over me. Under normal circumstances I would be frightened by this hazy unknown piece of land, but I was soothed and emboldened by the melodious whistles ringing ever so loudly in my ears. Was I on the island that was only mentioned in stories? Villagers back at home used to tell tales of how monsters and carnivorous plants lurked in the shadows of the forests on this mysterious island, which perhaps, happened to be just a lie after all as I goggled at the stunning area surrounding me. I stared up at the azure sky, the belligerent sun shining into my eyes, the mist all of a sudden cleared up. There was an alteration in the atmosphere, the whispers had ceased and I could clearly hear the winds whip past. My skin tingled with excitement as I sensed a belonging on this peaceful island. I ventured even further, glimpsing the mosses and ferns smattered across the ground, all sorts of strange flowers growing out of the crevices between rocks and watched as the unruffled birds perched on the branches above. I breathed in a gulp of fresh air and nestled myself comfortably next to a rock. However I was troubled by something deep down, I contemplated really hard and finally realized, there was a cure of all sickness located somewhere around the lost island according to folklore ; what if I was really standing on top of this sacred land ? Not only could I save my sister but also the other infected people in the village if I were to obtain it. I felt a pang of self-righteousness and therefore began my search and exploration. I hunted through myriad shrubs and ferns and yet all I found were dull grey pebbles and a few specks of petal. This whole mission was really getting tedious and banal. Just when I was about to give up and head home, there were huge movements up above the trees. I craned and stared up, thinking that even the birds took an interest in mocking me, but then a soft music perhaps, played by some sort of flute, began working their way towards my area. The trees swayed along, making the whole forest dance with vibrancy. Overwhelmed by this peculiar phenomenon, I began to tremble with nervousness. Turning around, I ran towards the way I came from, escaping all this madness. Running as fast as my heart could manage, I stampeded through the forest like a mad bull, ignoring the forest’s little stunts. After a short while the shadow of the canoe parked along the lake materialized, my heartbeat increasing dramatically and I charged towards, but then I felt a bump, At first the pain coursing through my head, then darkness. I felt a slosh of water across my face and I woke with a cough and rubbed my aching skull. A mild yellow light flickered beside me, revealing the jagged walls made of clay. There was water leaking from the ceiling above, dripping on top of my injured head and the ground, making hypnotic tips and taps. The only thing that was missing was a person, who could've put me in here. The candle next to me soothed my pounding heart a bit as I tried to recollect what had happened earlier. I recalled bumping into something invisible and passing out, but that occurred in the forest. Now I was sitting in what seemed like an ancient prison cell. Nonplussed, I shakily stood up and scanned for an exit, only to find myself confined with nowhere to run. Chills ran across my spine. "I'm not dying in here!" I mumbled to myself. I fanatically clawed the walls, hoping to find a contraption of some sort which could lead to my escape. Unfortunately, after several futile attempts, I was desperate. I dozed off for a while, thinking what to make of this situation. My family must be agitated to learn of my sudden disappearance. I lingered over thoughts of my dying sister and the cure, feeling ashamed to just run off without a message. Startled, I heard voices coming from the other side of the wall. I instantly pressed my ears against it and listened intently. The murmurs were like warbled messages, piquing my curiosity. I looked around once again for an exit, there must be a hole or a door. Finally I eyed a middle sized hole in the corner of the ceiling, where a couple of straggly vines dangled down from it. Without hesitation, I began climbing. I climbed out cautiously and swerved my head from left to right in case there was danger lurking nearby. I cautiously hopped down from the wall, once again back in the dense forest. The crickets sang their own tune and the frogs croaked, welcoming the arrival of nightfall. Most of the place was engulfed by darkness except for a few specks of light in the distance. Those lights seemed a bit like torches and the eerie murmurs became more distant. I decided to trail the glows and see where I’d end up. Filled with unease, I recalled how the villagers told me about strange people inhabiting the lost island.

They were definitely from some cult, if not monks. Draped in red or black robes, they planted their torches into the ground and formed a circle. One of those people stepped out and began delivering a speech. I listened carefully as I concealed myself in the thickets nearby.

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“The outsiders are impervious to our land. Sooner or later our forest will be completely denuded. All that will be left are the remains of city debris. We must think of a way to protect or move the forest spirits from this island,” a woman commanded in a serious tone.

“We certainly cannot move them, they are spirits of this very land; they protect what’s here not elsewhere. Besides, where can you move them? The whole Pearl River Delta is poisoned,” another man protested brusquely.

“There is nothing to worry about. The spirits have chosen a young boy for the job. The forest reacted to his presence,” an old woman with wizened skin chimed in. the crowd murmured in excitement at the news but I was dumbfounded, hoping that the others realize what a ridiculous theory the geriatric woman has proposed.”Hush! I sense that the boy is here.” Terrified, I panicked and left the scene in a flash without looking back.

Panting from all the sprinting and hiding, I sprinted away as I desperately tried to escape. Night fell and the battering of bat wings fluttered animatedly. I tripped a couple of times, leaving bruises on my arms and legs. Suddenly, the birds circling overhead let out shrill cries, like monsters ululating in darkness. I began sobbing uncontrollably, knelt down and curled into a ball.

“This is not happening” I squeaked helplessly to myself. I imagined the bestial old woman with the vulpine face coming for me. Unpleasant thoughts invaded my mind as I curled up, covering my ears. Everything came to an abrupt pause, the forest of the island returning to its tranquility and I no longer sentient of any danger. I opened my eyes, expecting to see nothing but a dark void provided by the night. But instead, I saw copious semi-glowing entities with satiny dresses floating around. With beaming tawny eyes and sheen wavy hair the color of gold, the beautiful spirit-like people lingered in mid-air and gawped at me. We stared at each other in awkward silence, checking out one another. Just when I was about to speak, a melodious voice of a young lady spoke up from the group of ghostly figures.

“Hello Xi, we’ve been expecting you.” “Uh what are you?” I stammered anxiously. “We are spirits and guardians of this island. This islet is in a grave situation and we are in need of your

help. That is why we summoned you.” “No hard feelings, but I really need to get home. I think you summoned the wrong person.” I answered

glibly. I hurriedly stood up and began walking away, but I was stopped by an invisible barrier and clunked my head on the transparent wall.

“My head!” I squealed in humiliation. “Sooner or later there will be no home to return to if you refuse to aid,” the spirits uttered.” “ Fine! What do you want me to do?” I questioned irritably. “Follow us.”

I unwillingly complied and followed those nimble figures skidding across the forest floor with ease, while I comically stumbled and tripped occasionally due to the lack of light. Very insensitive and proud creatures they must be I thought. As we trampled deeper into the forest, I spotted an iridescent pool of water surrounded by tall dragon spruce trees, like a piece of sacred land fortified by strong walls. The pool was unimaginably beautiful, the depth of the water seemed to stretch on forever, but yet contradictorily it seemed quite shallow. With crystal like walls and marine plants swaying to and fro, the whole scene was absolutely outlandish. Mesmerized by the beaming water, I had a thought that just maybe this would be the cure for all sickness everyone was talking about. I surreptitiously dipped my hand into the water, intending to feel the magic radiating from it, but then one of the spirits grabbed hold of my arm, shooting me a warning look. “If you actually believe that this is the cure, then you are certainly misled. There is no such thing as a cure for everything. There are only karmas. When we harm the world, it retaliates.” A spirit spoke in its wise sonorous voice. “Then why take me here? You’re wasting my time!” I seethed deplorably. The other spirits sighed and moaned in frustration as if I had done something unbelievably insatiable. During this sudden impasse one of the spirits spoke up, “But there are certain things you could do to rewind what man has done. This is the pool of truth and rebirth, look hard into the water and see for yourself.” I stared into the water as told and then I saw something I could never forget. There were flames eroding the forest bits by bits, the water surface was bubbling and dominated by deep shades of brown and sickening green, unknown materials were also floating aimlessly on it. I saw Ying and my parents picking up the remains of what seemed like a carcass of a trout. There in the distance, I could see

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a big concrete building with clouds of dark smoke besieging it. It felt as if I was standing in a grotesquely deformed place.

“This is what will happen if you choose ignorance.” I jolted out of the nightmare and looked blankly at the solemn expression plastered on the spirits face. “What can I possibly do then?” I asked woefully. “Well there is nothing you could do here, but in the city, something could be altered. You can be born as

a significant person and alleviate the harm caused upon your land. Isn’t that what you hoped for? To save your own people and homeland?” The spirits questioned in hope.

“Do you mean I have to give my soul away now?” I asked, shocked from head to toe. The spirits nodded. I contemplated really hard, thinking what would happen to my family and village. In a while, no sooner had I agreed to this whole ordeal, I was pushed into the water. My eyes sprang open, staring into a bright light bulb dangling on the ceiling. I was revived and doctors sprang to my aid. With new memories filling in, I could finally see how the world began to rot under the hands of the developing economy. I recollect how I kept a woebegone look during the first couple of days as the new me, constantly drifting into thoughts of my old family, furthermore getting used to all the workload filling me with ennui working in the government sector. Everyday enduring all the malodorous stench of pollution in the city. However, I am back in Xunliao Bay, standing complacently on the shore with the tide gently stroking my feet, all of this reminiscent of the place once called home. I stare at the horizon, imagining a mist unraveling the hidden island that was lost for so long its mystic vanished from the trace of the Earth, the tale of it left untold. Perhaps the spirits departed because they knew that nothing could be done when humans do not cherish the land they own. I can feel the ominous presence of the nuclear power plant nearby in Daya Bay as I sit quietly with my back hunched due to the heavy weight of old age and guilt. I see my grandson playfully jogging back from the recycling bin, humming a tune so familiar. “Grandpa! Can you tell me the story of the lost island again?”

Fiction: Group 4

Lost In Paradise Shekou International School, Li, Lily - 18, Fiction: Group 4

hen I first arrived to Shenzhen on an airplane midnight, Pearl River Delta was an

enormous glowing sphere of lights from my aerial view. I was immediately drawn to the

place with the fascination of a child; never had I seen a place were the lights still burn this

bright this late into the night from all directions. Ancient legends have it that the Pearl River Delta was

formed by two magical dragons, one silver and the other golden, transformed into the rivers that nurtured

this blessed land by a goddess. Looking at that glowing sphere of fire at the edge of night, I almost believed

that legend. Behind each of those little lights, there may be a person, may be a family, all existing in the

humming hive of the city. This was the moment when I decided that after I settled in, I will take my time

to explore this place on my own.

My chance finally came at end of summer break. I woke up extra early that morning to find the sky in the

most crisp shade of blue. Puffy clouds adorned the sky like marshmallows as I stared out my window

eagerly. Even this early in the morning, busy people already lined the streets with their bikes and umbrellas,

ready for this new day. Today can be my perfect day, I thought, all I need is to take a chance. So within an

hour, I packed myself some food, got my sundress on, and set off for a journey out of Shenzhen to other

cities in Guangdong.

Following the map, I told my driver to drop me off at a temple tourist attraction; I even traced a careful

travel route with a red marker on my map. But somewhere along the winding roads after more than two

hours of riding, a series of small villages along the riverside caught my eyes. Even though I did not have a

clue where the villages placed on the map, I felt this abrupt urge to ditch my original travel route and just

explore those villages. So, following my instinct, I got off the car in excitement and begun moving towards

those faraway houses. It wasn’t until the car was completely out of sight that I realized I had left my cell

phone in it. Panic surged through me immediately when I realized that I was in the middle of no where

without a communication tool. Normally this is never a good sign, but strange it was that on second

thought I did not regret this decision at all.

The villages looked much closer than they were in reality, but I enjoyed the long walk. Flower fields

where lavender and irises flourished stretched out in front of me like an ocean of fragrance, making it

difficult to believe it wasn’t early spring. Butterflies of different shades frolicked around me and the

sunbeams brushed across my cheeks like a gentle caress. Feeling pleased with my adventure so far, I took off

my hat and lifted my head up to the sky like I used to as a child. Bathing in the sun’s warmth, I felt relieved,

so I gradually relaxed. I began to think that perhaps losing my phone was a positive thing. Perhaps for one

day, just one day, I can be free from constant calls and text messages pulling me away from everything else I

saw. Perhaps just for one day, there will be nothing between me and the open road.

It was well into the afternoon when I finally made it out of the flower fields and in to the villages. A smile

found its way on to my lips as I surveyed the nearly empty streets signaling that this was an area untouched

W

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by mass tourism. I liked unexplored territories; there is no fun in going to a place where everyone has been.

I strolled casually along the main streets of the town while villagers casted me curious glances. Ancient

Chinese styled architecture and modern town houses with brightly colored roofs lined the streets. Suddenly,

a tall building with a cross at its top came into sight. “A church!” I gasped in surprise as I stepped back to

inspect it. This church was obviously built long ago and it wasn’t very large, but its antique beauties did not

diminish with time. Looking up at it, three pointed arches rose into the sky as swirling patterns of humans

and animals were carved into the marble walls. Filled with curiosity, I pushed open the door and slid in,

careful not to make a single noise. There was no one in there that afternoon, and though I am not religious,

something about the peace and sacredness in the halls kept me silent. I took a couple hesitant steps towards

the center of the room and looked around. All around me hung heavy velvet drapes and oil paintings, and

everywhere I looked there were more carved marble statues. It was as if time transcended and I was

suddenly taken back to the Renaissance Ages, where the grandest cathedrals were built and people prayed to

the rhythms of ancient hymns.

After a while, the church door cracked open as an old woman walked in, pulling me from my daze. With a

broad smile on her face, she proudly explained to me that this faith was brought in by groups of missionaries

who built this church even before she was born, and that her parents have both contributed to its cause.

Then she lifted her weathered hand and stroked the marble walls with affection. Not wanting to interrupt

her moment, I politely asked her where she would suggest me to go next as a tourist. “Everywhere in this

town is unique to me,” she chuckled in Chinese, “but if you cross that bridge to the right of this church and

walk straight ahead, you can go visit the riverside.” Warmed by her deep connections to this town, I

thanked her and went on my way.

Evening begun to fall when I approached the riverside and a true marvel was presented in front of my

eyes. The sun was slowly sinking from the West into the river, and it was burning like a glowing orb of fire.

Along the shore, I saw an artist who was painting alone on a wooden bridge that extended into the river, so

I dropped my backpack in delight and flew towards the bridge. The painter did not notice my presence until

I told him that I thought his blending of shades looked perfect. He laughed at the realization that I spoke

English too as he told me that he was from Britain. “All I do is travel and paint; this is what I’ve dreamed

of,” he said, “It wasn’t till I finally let go of everything I wanted before that I understand what true freedom

is.”

I took my sandals off to dip my toes into the water and pondered upon what he said. The sun set further

and the colors became more vivid. Red and orange and pink intensified all around us until it felt like we

were sitting in the center of Earth itself, right among its burning embers. The water beneath my feet turned

into the color of molten lava, and I felt life running through my veins like this flowing river. This subtle stir

started at the bottom of my heart then my spirit began to expand with the strangest sense of freedom and

renewal I ever felt, like an invisible bond just bursted and disappeared into the sunset. Wasn’t this what the

Pearl River Delta symbolized as a whole after all? Wasn’t this the place that was built up by groups of

fearless youths who sought freedom, liberty, and renewal, into thriving cities? This used to be the place

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where the land was flat across the horizon and the place where farmlands flourished upon fertile soil. But

over the last couple decades the skyline have been changed as jungles of concrete rose high up into the air,

established upon generations of hard work and creation, until the day they finally saw their ideas and dreams

come to fruition. This generation we presently see, their hopes and dreams still scrapes the sky like all those

towering buildings attempting to reach upwards. Some of them have traveled a thousand miles just to be

here, the place where they can recreate themselves and build something of their own. I’ve had dreams too,

but over the years those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over

and over again, sparkling but broken. Maybe it’s not too late to have a cleaned slate and start over, not too

late to pick up the pieces and rebuild them into something better.

The artist took out a candle and lit it up so he can continue to paint now that the night has fallen. I

watched, intrigue by the large sphere of light a single candle can bring. This reminded me of the first time

that I flew over Pearl River Delta on a plane at night when I saw all those little lights glittering. I was

behind one of those lights that night by the riverside, releasing brightness to the world. Perhaps if someone

happened to be looking from space, the whole of Pearl River Delta must have been tiny, but it must have

been sparkling like that candle. I took a seat where I can see the canvas he was painting on, and I felt as if

those warm colors were spreading across the canvas of my soul as well. I smiled to my self and felt a genuine

sense of happiness. There was something in the night air that felt different now that I drew myself a new

skyline in my heart. I didn’t know where I was, but somehow I felt safe. Just for that night, home was

wherever I laid my head. Out on that open road, I was lost but I’ve never been so alive.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta Shung Tak Catholic English College, Yeung, Michael - 17, Fiction: Group 4

he small boat slid across the surface of the river, the bow cutting through the water like a knife. The vibrant lights of the city of Canton, or Guangzhou as the locals called it, were within sight and getting closer by the minute.

‘We should be there in about fifteen minutes,’ the skipper said loudly over the rattle of the engine. There was no reply from the passenger. The skipper couldn’t help but turn and glance at the strange man, who was wearing a trench coat

with the collar turned up against his cheeks. His only passenger for the night inclined his head at him and gave a brief nod. The single fluorescent light bulb that he used as a lamp gave the man’s face an unnatural paleness, and his grey eyes appeared a ghostly silver. Eyes of a dead fish, the boatman thought with a small shudder. The skipper had always considered himself cautious and observant. He’d given the man the onceover when he approached him at the pier in Shenzhen. Tall and wiry, with close-cropped brown hair, the build of an athlete and a smooth, emotionless face that could have been carved out of marble. A cruel slash of a mouth and a tell-tale bulge under his coat. A small compact, by the looks of it, probably already loaded. He had no doubt the man was dangerous. An American mobster, here to make connections with the local gangs? What a small world it was indeed. The transaction was quick and almost completely silent. The man spoke a single word in a rasping voice that resembled a sword being drawn out of its scabbard. ‘Guangzhou.’ From that moment forth, he wanted nothing more but to get the job over with and have the man out of his boat. He could swear that he felt him staring at his back, as if contemplating how best to kill him without arousing suspicion. Then, of course, the engine let out a whine like a dying elephant and coughed out a very unpleasant cloud of black smoke. The boat sputtered to a halt. ‘Uh…’ The boatman’s voice cracked from disuse. ‘Give me a moment, I have a pair of oars. In case of emergencies.’ Apart from a slight tightening at the corners of the mouth to show his displeasure, the man said nothing. Forty-five minutes later, the little boat stopped at a small dock a quarter of a kilometre away from the Guangzhou Pearl River Cruise harbour. The man hopped off and nodded at the skipper, who looked extremely relieved as he rowed away into the night. The stench of the river was revolting. Even the stoic man wrinkled his nose slightly. Then he turned and walked into the main streets of the city, flagging down a taxi. ‘Where to?’ The cabman said in a thick Chinese accent, seeing that his client was a Westerner. ‘Zhuji Police Station.’ The driver looked at him, his clothes, his menacing face, and said incredulously, ‘Po…pow-lease stay-shun?’ The man merely stared at him with a slight frown, and the taxi driver suddenly felt a little stupid. Been watching too many Hollywood movies.

The taxi stopped right in front of the station. The man paid the driver one hundred yuan and didn’t ask for the change. Not bothered at all by the cold wintry air, he strode straight into the police station. Every gong an inside immediately stopped what they were doing and fingered their firearms. Unfazed, he spoke to the receptionist at her table. ‘Detective Richard West, Interpol, here to see Detective Winston Lee.’ Everyone in the station seemed to relax instantly. ‘Ah, Mr. West. Detective Lee was expecting you half an hour ago. I’ll show you to his office.’

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‘Thank you.’ Richard followed the receptionist up three flights of stairs. The station wasn’t kept very well. The walls and the floor were covered with white ceramic tiles, stained with nicotine and some other brown substance that he didn’t care to think about. ‘His office is number 309. Good luck on your assignment, sir.’ He nodded and walked in front of a wooden door with a bronze plaque reading ‘Winston Lee, Detective’ in English and Simplified Chinese. Richard knocked twice and it swung open. Lee was a slight man. His brown suit hung off his thin frame. A gun and badge was hooked on his belt, the latter apparently polished a few days ago. It shone like a new penny. He seemed taken aback by the tall foreigner, but he recovered quickly enough. ‘Detective West, I take it?’ Lee had a pleasant, modulated accent, tempered with a cautious edge to his voice. ‘I must say, your photograph doesn’t quite do you justice.’ The two policemen shook hands. ‘First time in China?’ Lee asked. ‘Yes.’ ‘It’s a pity that we have to tarnish your first impression of our country, ‘ Lee continued. ‘China isn’t all whores, Triads and smugglers.’ ‘I understand,’ Richard said. ‘Every big city has a seedy side.’ ‘Well, we’re going to be diving deep into that side tonight. Word from our Triad informants is that an enormous smuggling shipment is docking at the Guangzhou Harbour tonight at ten. Smuggling’s a huge problem here in the Delta, mainly because there’s too many riverside ports and too little of us to keep up with the smugglers. To make matters worse, most of them are funded by the Triads or are part of them already.’ Lee paused. ‘Are you familiar with the Chinese system of guanxi?’ Richard nodded, a sharp, hawkish motion. ‘Relationships and connections make up the basis of society. Most successful Dragon Heads have ties to corrupt officials and are basically untouchable unless they slip up. Badly.’ Lee’s glasses glinted. ‘And this is one hell of a slip-up. If we intercept this shipment…’ Richard drummed his fingers against his palm. ‘This is all well and good, but I still don’t see how an Interpol agent comes into the picture.’ ‘I’m getting to that part. You see, the ship in question isn’t local. It’s from Columbia. And if the Gong An suddenly burst onto some Columbian merchant’s ship and tore the whole place apart looking for alleged smuggling goods, well… let’s just say that our international reputation doesn’t need any more work. Which is why we need you to oversee the operation.’ ‘I see. How many men are assigned to this crackdown?’ ‘Two. One discounting the Interpol agent.’ ‘What?’ Lee laughed bitterly, while simultaneously pulling his blinds shut. The room grew darker as the lights outside were cut off. ‘You should really learn how the Chinese “Public Security Forces” work, Mr. West. The chief is practically another Dragon Head himself. And the best thing about his job? He’s right either way. If we fail and get riddled with bullets he gets to rant about civic security and gang violence, while getting paid off by the Triads for protecting their interests. If we manage to pull this off, he gets a commendation for his expert handling of the situation. That’s how authority works here in China.’ Steel entered Lee’s voice. ‘That does not, however, mean that I intend to give up. I’ll gladly put up with the chief if we manage to cut off a Triad smuggling chain. Should put a nice dent in their finances.’ ‘Admirable,’ West said dryly. ‘I suggest we come up with a more detailed plan before we proceed if we are to avoid “getting riddled with bullets”. I trust you’ve been on undercover assignments before?’ ‘I’ve been in the force for twelve years, I like to think so.’

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Two hours later, a lone Chinese man in the faded yellow overalls of a harbour maintenance worker approached the lone, green ship on the pier. The cargo ship was the size of a large ferry. There were a few men stationed outside the ship, no doubt guards in the employ of the Triad. ‘Three guards, all looking bored and sleepy. This should be relatively easy. No lights coming from the windows at all. I think it’s empty.’ Winston Lee muttered into his earpiece. ‘I’d prefer to be down there helping rather than waiting from a distance. I don’t have a long-range weapon system, I’m leaving you exposed.’ West replied from where he stood, behind a pile of shipping containers nearly a hundred feet away. He fingered the snub-nosed Beretta semi-automatic pistol at his side, squinting at the three men. West was a good shot, but he knew his limits. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Wait for the keyword, I’ll keep their attention.’ And with that, Lee staggered forward with the air of a drunken slob. The three guards stopped in their tracks and stared at the intruder, a string of guttural Cantonese expletives streaming from his mouth as he sauntered towards them. ‘…okaihumkachandiulasing… well hello my fine gentlemen how are you doing…’ Lee warbled as he swayed from side to side in front of the gangsters. ‘Oh, Christ. Go away, pig, this is private property.’ ‘Ugh… my stomach…’ Lee gagged and doubled over. ‘What-‘ ‘Get back over there, you sick little – ‘ One of the guards lashed out with his hand, pushing Lee away from him. Lee hiccupped, stumbled once, then continued in his drunken tones, ‘Say, have any of you ever been to Hawaii?’ The guard who pushed him started to say, ‘Oh for f-‘ Then West’s fist caught him squarely behind the ear. At the same time, Lee twisted and spun around with a roundhouse kick that slammed into the temple of the guard directly in front of him. Both men collapsed, unconscious. The third guard gaped, and scrabbled for his gun. West grabbed his hand, twisted it upwards clockwise, and broke his wrist with a loud snap. Before the man could scream, Richard formed his hand into a blade and struck him in the throat. The guard gasped for breath, his face turning blue, then crumpled. ‘Nice one. Jujitsu?’ ‘Krav Maga. Israeli martial art. Cheaper and dirtier than whatever stylish Kung Fu you seem to have learned in China.’ West cracked his knuckles. ‘Shall we?’ ‘This one has the key. Let’s go.’ Lee picked up a glinting copper key and unlocked the side door to the ship. ‘I’m not releasing the ramp so watch your step.’ The two detectives leapt into the ship. It was dark inside, and the air was very stuffy. ‘Listen!’ Lee hissed. They both went still and held their breath. Voices, faint as the sound of an ant’s footsteps, were coming from the small corridor out of the room they were apparently in. It was too indistinct for them to hear exactly what they were saying, so they just watched the shadows play across the light from the corridor, in the small slit of the door. The voices stopped. Barely a minute later, the light outside the door dimmed. Someone was outside. The door creaked. Richard tensed as a small rectangle of light appeared on the floor, with the outline of a man there. The figure paused, then went inside the dark room, whistling. Richard crouched, waiting for his moment. The man flicked a light switch somewhere and grunted as light flooded the room. He blinked. Quick as a shadow, Richard hammerlocked the smuggler from behind, his right arm pressing into his trachea. There was a brief struggle, then the chokehold cut off the man’s oxygen supply. His eyes rolled backwards and he passed out. Lee tugged at West’s coat. ‘Smugglers usually keep their goods below decks. We should head down. Hopefully, we won’t run into anyone else.’ It turned out that yet another crewman was heading up the stairs from the cargo hold. He ran straight into Lee, their eyes meeting in a brief, startling moment. Then Lee’s palm shot forward, connecting with the unfortunate man’s chin. He reeled backwards and tumbled down the stairs. There was a crack as his neck snapped.

Fiction: Group 4

‘Ouch,’ Lee winced. ‘This isn’t really going very well. Let’s just find the goods and be done with this whole thing.’ And so they headed down the stairs and went into the cargo hold. ‘I wanted to arrest these men, not kill them outright. Ah well. What else could go wrong?’ Lee grumbled. He was answered by the distinct clicks of several guns being cocked. ‘You just had to say it.’ West shook his head. No less than five men were waiting for them in the cargo hold. One was even clutching an Uzi sub-machinegun, leaning against a red storage container in the middle of the hold. So much for China’s strict gun restrictions. A tall, thin man with a reedy voice stepped forward. ‘Who do you think you are, waltzing in here, taking out my men and disrupting our business? We saw you on our security cameras when you took down our sentries! You think this is some Western movie where the good guy goes and – ‘ ‘We generally let bad guys finish their monologues in movies.’ West replied glibly. The leader of the smugglers smiled mirthlessly. ‘We have an entire squad of Triad hitmen on the way. You’ll never make it out of here alive, Gwailo.’ ‘You left out the maniacal laugh.’ Lee rolled his eyes. The two detectives shifted their weight slightly, with Lee picking at a spot on the wall to attract attention. A heartbeat later, a series of rapid gunshots rang out, reverberating throughout the small cargo hold. Richard clutched his right arm. One of the smuggler’s men had caught him there with a shotgun blast. Only a couple of shot pellets managed to hit, but it was still excruciating. He gritted his teeth. ‘Lee, you alright?’ The Chinese detective nodded. ‘First stroke of luck today. You?’ ‘Got a grazing wound on my arm. I’ll live.’ West flexed his arm and winced. ‘Did you hear something else back just then in the firefight? I could’ve sworn it was people. Some sounded like children.’ Lee looked at him incredulously. ‘Never mind.’ In front of them, the smugglers lay dead, ragged holes drilled into their torsos and heads, eyes wide, eternally staring. Lee shook his head. ‘Idiots. Well, let’s just relieve them of their goods and get out before the Triad hitmen get here and blow us to bits. We don’t have much time.’ West nodded at the container. It was bolted shut. ‘Maybe one of these men has a key.’ ‘Let’s not waste time trying to find it.’ Lee raised his gun again and fired a single shot. The bolt snapped in half with a loud ping. There was a muffled sound inside the container. ‘There it is again.’ Richard frowned. Puzzled, he strode over to the door and threw it open, peering inside. A dozen pairs of dark eyes peered back at him. West nearly started shooting again. ‘What in the…’ The normally cold and distant detective seemed taken aback. ‘What is it? What’s in… oh God.’ Lee’s expression turned into one of horror. More than ten people were inside the small container. The smell of urine, sweat and filth wafted out from the tiny space. These people had lived here for an indefinite period of time. A bucket, overflowing with vomit and faeces, was propped up in the corner, its contents spilling out onto the floor. Nearly half of the people inside were children. Most of them appeared to be from the Middle East, with brown complexions and large, dark eyes. They all seemed frightened out of their minds. ‘So that’s the cargo. These men were smuggling people. Afghan refugees from the looks of them. Poor bastards. Once you cast your lot with the Triad, it never ends well. Many die on the journey. Others are forced to work off their debt. Women and girls as young as nine are forced into prostitution. It’s disgusting.’ Lee spat. ‘Bloody Triads.’ Richard was silent for a moment. ‘We’re lucky we didn’t hit any of them in the fight. We need to get them – ‘ Heavy footsteps sounded on the deck. ‘They’re here! The Triad hit squad! Quick – lock the door!’ Lee rushed towards the entrance. He slammed the door shut and West slid the lock in place. ‘Damn it. We need another way out. Lee?’ ‘Smuggling ships usually have a hatch in the cargo hold for dumping merchandise, just in case. We could swim through.’

Fiction: Group 4

‘Swim? Do you swim? Rahksa?’ West asked the Afghans in Dari, their mother tongue. They nodded, but some looked apprehensive. Lee felt along the floor and pried loose a floorboard. The hatch was right there, a little trapdoor. He threw it open. ‘Women and children first!’ As the last refugees dropped into the rancid, pitch-black water, the hitmen emptied an entire clip of ammunition into the lock. ‘Come on!’ Lee pulled West with him into the water. It tasted salty and greasy, with the stench of industrial pollution. He nearly gagged. The moment they swam out from under the boat, they headed up towards the light. Lee and West surfaced, sputtering. They shook the water from their eyes and looked at the ship. Then they swam, with the refugees, to the other side of the Pearl River, where the city of Guangzhou still loomed, neon lights flashing, cold and indifferent.

‘…and we would like to commend Chief Wu Wei-Pyong for his excellent handling of-‘ Lee switched off the TV. ‘What did I tell you?’ He smirked. ‘Chief wins either way.’ West shook his head. ‘Unbelievable. You’d think they’d give you some credit, but it’s as if this fat bastard single-handedly rescued all twelve of those refugees. You’re not even mentioned!’ ‘China, my friend. You get used to it.’ West smiled and shook hands with Lee. ‘It’s been my honour, Detective Lee.’ ‘Likewise, Detective West.’ Richard West rose from his seat and tugged on his shirt. Then he set off towards the dry-cleaner’s, where his trench coat was waiting. The river’s stink had better been washed off.

Fiction: Group 4

The Little Fish SKH Lam Woo Memorial Secondary School, Choi, Tsz Yan - 16, Fiction: Group 4

taring at the scene right in front of me, I could not imagine it was the city I once knew so well—no more high-rises, no more hustle markets, no more rushing crowd. I was totally motionless, but I clearly understood everything started from years ago. Those moments came up to my mind all at

once. ‘Can you help me?’ A voice appeared, which interrupted an 8-year-old little girl walking along the third longest river in China—Pearl River. Yes, I was the little girl, searching the source of the voice. I thought it could be from the crowd behind me, or it could be from the cell phone held by the young man beside me. However, it was from neither of them. ‘I’m here…’ the voice got even weaker. I started to be anxious and worried that I understood there was someone out there asking for my help, who was certainly in an emergency. ‘Flap-flap,’ the flapping of a fishtail caught my attention. A small fish which seemed to be dried to death was lying on a stone. ‘It won’t be you, will it?’ I was so nervous to get a response. ‘It’s me. Please don’t ever pollute the river again, I beg you and …’ without finishing its words, it had already lost its breath. Terrifying by the speaking fish, I instantly ran back to my parents and hugged them tightly that I was so afraid that I would be caught by the fish family. Yet, I did not tell the story to anyone, even my dearest parents. It came to the end? Surely no—I had never thought it could influence my entire life. It was the year when I was 18. I was a grown-up—taller and more mature, but one thing that never changed was that, the dream I had every day. Every night, I dreamt of the dying little fish asking for my help. It triggered me to be more concerned at the issues of Pearl River Delta. It could be said that Pearl River Delta was a success of China. In these years, cities including Hong Kong, Guangdong and Macau had experienced a rapid economic growth thanks to the contribution of globalization. China became more open and free to the world market. Being the ‘world factory’, it was hard to avoid having more factories built in these cities. Undoubtedly, people there enjoy a much high quality of life as they live in these affluent cities. There came more job opportunities, business opportunities and life choices, therefore, people are more satisfied with everything they owned. Being a student in Hong Kong, little did I enjoy the impacts brought by the economic growth. What I could see and experience more was the downsides in these societies. They always reminded me of that little fish. I did not know whether it was true, but as days passed by, my dream got different. The little fish did not appear again, what replaced was a large family of marine animals. They seemed to be planning something with anger, and gradually I realized that, there was one family member missing at every night. The number of their members was getting fewer and fewer. ‘Juliet… Juliet!’ That was my co-worker, Jacob. We were volunteering in an environmental group, fighting for the marine ecosystem in China. ‘I had that dream again. This time, the Father Shrimp was missing.’ I gave a deep sigh.

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‘Don’t worry that much. Our organization is urging the government to deal with the water pollution problem in Pearl River Delta. There will be measures aiming at it in the coming year,’ Jacob’s comfort was always that kind. ‘I’m afraid it will be too late,’ I murmured, but I dared not letting Jacob to hear that as he would be worried and kept cheering me up. I could not deny that he was a bit annoying in this case. Sunshine fell gently on my face—it’s another fine day. Living in this city, there could be a fine day, but never a nice one. Never mind, I was going on a trip to Japan for exchanging opinions with another environmental group. I could finally breathe in some fresher and cleaner air. Before the trip, I had a walk with Jacob along the Pearl River, investigating the environment for the report to the Japanese group. I wished I had never been there. It was horribly poor. All I saw was rubbish floating on the oily and dirty water. How dare they call it was ‘PEARL river’? ‘Is our progress too slow? We have paid our whole-year effort on it! How come…’ I was astonished by the view. It wasn’t like the place I had been to years ago. ‘One year is never enough. You should know that whenever we save it for a little, there will be millions of people doing economic activities bring harms on it. We can never keep pace with these bad guys.’ Jacob explained. I rewrote my report on the aeroplane. The situation was far more serious than I had expected. I should seek more help from other environmental groups to empower ourselves. ‘There was a mysterious disaster happened in the Pearl River Delta today afternoon. No one survived the great tsunami in these cities. The whole country mourn over their deaths…’ ‘How lucky we are! We escaped from the disaster!’ all people on the plane was so excited as they were so fortunate to be absent in these cities when the disaster happened. Only me, I was the only one who experienced the mental breakdown. I was here again. There were no more high-rises, no more hustle markets, no more rushing crowds. The city was empty. They had brought away my hometown, my family and everything I owned. It was the first time that I felt so alone on Earth. I walked past the Pearl River. There were no more rubbish and dirty water anymore, but fish and shrimps swimming freely in clear water. It was like a whole new world after all. No more selfish people working on their own. No more enterprises polluting the water. No more cars emitting air pollutants harming our health.

No more marine animals groaning in my dreams. I finally understand that my dream was actually a time bomb. How ironic that people fought for a

rich society throughout their lives, but eventually it had all came to dust and ashes. I wished I could stop the next time bomb to explode again.

Fiction: Group 4

The Tale of Bai Long SKH Lam Woo Memorial Secondary School, Wong, Kai Hang Davis - 16,

Fiction: Group 4

n bygone days, River Delta was just a small, little stream. On the riverside there was an underpopulated hamlet, its population is about 100 only. Those villagers are either the weak and old, or the women and children. Inside this suburban village, there was a young fellow named Bai Long (白龍).

Bai Long was a young man with preeminent martial arts. He had been practicing martial art since childhood and has muscles of iron. Teenagers in the hamlet usually went out to work at about eighteen, but Bai Long didn’t. As he had to take care of his senile mother, he stayed at the village to keep his mother accompany. All the time he earned a living by farming and hunting in the forest. Besides, he even ridded the people of an evil. He used to climb up the high hill and walked through the forest to kill tigers and chop a venomous snake. In addition to his bravery, he was also a filial pious young boy who delivered meals to every solitary elder every evening. He has been an acknowledged hero in the hamlet long time ago. For those youngsters who had been leaving the hamlet to go out for work, they gathered together to think of some ways for making a lot of money. One of them suggested developing gold panning at the source of their mother river. Others immediately agreed with the suggestion and believed that the gold panning industries would bring them affluent lives. Soon, they exploited the land near the source of their river. But unfortunately because of the excessive exploitation, the soil around was fluffed up. A disastrous landslide was not far behind. Just within half a minute, the source of river was entirely blocked by sand and muds, together with some enormous rocks. Seeing the water flow became weaker and weaker day by day, eventually nearly no water came out from the source. Although all the youngsters tried to dig a hole for the long-absent current, none of them succeed.

A night, while all these youngsters were discussing a way to solve the problem, a skinny boy among them was being possessed by some demon. All the others were scared. To their astonishment, the boy broke silence and said “I am the God of the earth (Tudi Gong)! I am going to tell you the only way to dodge the calamity. Some must stand out to dedicate his entire life, to be the tutelary god of the village for ever and ever.” The skinny boy then felt fainted, all the others came up to support him with hands. Everyone looked confused and nervous. As they were the only “bread winner” of their families, none of them showed willingness to stand out. At this moment, Bai Long walked away silently. When he got home, he told his mother all the things just happened.

“Mother, I really want to do something for our village, this is the place where I was born, and the place I love so…” “I know what you want to say, son. Go ahead! You need not worry about me.” They hugged each other tightly without saying another words. The next day, Bai Long went to the upper river, the place where the God of the earth had mentioned before. He had prepared so well, for anything likely to happen. All of a sudden, the weather changed. The thunder was accompanied by lightning. A flash of lightning lighted up the whole village, it just liked every creation was roused from sleep. Afterwards a beam of mysterious light shined on Bai Long. Bai Long closed his eyes and spread out his arms. Things surrounding him were just like in a situation of pause.

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Fiction: Group 4

Bai Long gently rose in to the sky under the beam of light. All of a moment, he became a giant dragon and dancing in the wind. And immediately the dragon ran to the desiccated river, lying prostrate on the river bed. His long and tortuous body almost covered the original length of the river.

Miracles happened. An uninterrupted flow of water ran again from the source of the river, slowly and peacefully. At the end it covered the body of the huge dragon entirely. The initial looks of river reappeared. That was the river that everyone were familiar of. The appearance of the dragon solve the problem of drought, in the meantime it provided sufficient nutrient to downstream soil. Now plants could grow strong and sturdy, none of the villagers needed to feel worried about the problem of water shortage anymore. Perhaps on some day, kids may ask about the birth of River Delta, and parents do not need to feel troubled anymore. As there is one new story could tell the children--- The tale of Bai Long.

Fiction: Group 4

The New Tales of the Pearl River Delta St. Joseph's College, Chow, Justin - 16, Fiction: Group 4

ife is a destiny, something the Chinese people regard as unchangeable. This is a story about two brothers who meet each other four times after they have separated. Yet, these opportunities never come at the right time.

********************************************************************* Chapter 1 Beams of brilliant sunshine dazzled, as new-born birds flapped their wings and departed their parents. Wen, Lou and their mother left the cemetery. And their father, who sacrificed for the country, would rest in peace. The family pillar had passed away. The series of warlord confrontations, invasions and civil war seemed ever-lasting. For the sake of the two sons, Mother somehow thought of marrying again to the Chao’s, the best-off family in Foshan, so that she could get a share of the wealth. She once vowed to do anything in the benefit of her sons, even if it meant she would become a concubine. As a widow, she forbade her teenage sons to make money themselves as the risks would be unforeseeable. She had always wanted the easier way out. Nevertheless, her sons did not listen to her. However unyielding she convinced them, they were never moved. Wen, to his insuppressible rage, screamed at Mother, ‘Do you know how much harm this will do to our family’s reputation? It will cause a great shame on me and Lou! I know, you just want things to be within your expectation. How selfish you have become!’ Lou nodded. Mother, defeated and shoulders sloped, sighed, ‘What I do is just for your own good. But now, off you go then. There is nothing more to be said.’ Just as the brothers strode away, tears ran down her cheeks, dripping onto the photo of Lou which she was grabbing. ‘No, no, just tell me nothing has happened today. Please wipe today off my memory, please…,’ she mumbled. Chapter 2 Half a year passed. Victory had eventually come to the hands of the Communist Party of China. Wen and Lou had separated. On the very day they bade farewell in Shenzhen, which was then a barren land, they made a vow: 1. Each would pursue their own way of living; 2. They would meet as long as either one founded his own family, which would be a fulfillment of their ancestors’ expectation. Wen had always been skeptical of the Party, as communism may mean that what he earned could be confiscated at any time. As a result, he came to Hong Kong and started his tea ware business. There he made his first bucket of gold. For days and nights, he squatted at a corner on Hollywood Road and polished porcelain tea pots and tea cups under the rusted roof top. People soon came swarming to his tiny stall for the inexpensive pieces of delicate artworks. Business flourished like spring flowers. Soon, he made up his mind to expand it. He hired several workers and purchased a unit in an industrial building as production base and warehouse. Also, the stall was replaced by a shop, where more of his artifacts could be displayed. Lou, however, did not hold the same view as Wen. Some 2500 km apart from his elder brother, Lou worked in a state-owned enterprise in Guangzhou responsible for textile goods. Under the strictly planned economy, he worked diligently together with his colleagues and earned a monthly salary of 36 yuan. He could meet his basic needs, and he would ask for no more.

L

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Somehow Lou got along well with a young postman who bustled about the small town. At one occasion, the postman invited him to his cottage to meet his younger sister. Lou and she talked like old friends the first time they met. For every day off, Lou would meet her and their relationship was closer than ever. Chapter 3 For Lou, the years of calm and peace had gone. Overwhelming political campaigns came by like huge waves. Tens of red banners emerged here and there, and hundreds of crowds gathered and chanted the words of the Chairman. Lou had just been married to the young postmen’s sister, but the on-going demonstrations disrupted his life. Government officials had been marching in and out of the town, arresting bunches of illegal businessmen, creating chaos after chaos. And this time, Chairman Mao launched something new. He openly appealed people to express their views on the government freely. Lou’s wife had an uncle who was a prominent scholar in the province and had once openly criticised many government policies. Meanwhile, Wen was reserving a seat for the train to Guangzhou. This was part of the vow. Somehow he felt embarrassed for still not having a family of his own. He could imagine Lou and his new wife joking about him. After all, he was elated upon meeting his brother again after half a decade. He could not wait for the moment of reunion. He anticipated meeting Lou’s new wife. Chapter 4 Out of anyone’s expectation, Mao ordered an arrest of all those who had criticised the government, including Lou’s uncle-in-law. All his close relatives were under strict scrutiny by the government, and Lou was forced to separate with her wife for the time being. There was nothing more than fear – no one dared to voice opinions anymore. Fear had terrorised the town. Operation of the textile enterprise came to a standstill. Lou stayed in his apartment and remained in solitude for most of the time. In fact, the separation was too long that Lou’s colleagues gradually believed that he had divorced. Wen knew nothing about this. He appeared at the factory Lou was working in. He introduced himself to the staff and explained why he had come. Yet, to Wen’s immense disbelief and fury, he was told that Lou got divorced. He stamped. He sighed. He shouted. Suddenly, what he had been dreaming of during the journey shattered and vanished into thin air. The crying and yelling soon grew unbearable. More and more people approached to see what happened, and Lou was among them. Surprised by his brother’s emotions, he came close to Wen. Yet, Wen shoved him aside, and scolded him. ‘You could have a family and be worthy of our ancestors! Why do you give up the marriage?’ Lou was eager to explain, but he could not reveal the truth as it may cause him danger. He simply nodded, and muttered, and apologised. But Wen words never finished. He reprimanded his wrongdoings which seriously affected the family’s reputation. He would not let Lou have a second to speak up. Lou looked down and was beaten. Finally, Wen left without a proper farewell, but grief and dismay. As days passed, pain and sorrow slowly wore off in Lou’s heart. He could have never imagined such a misunderstanding. Putting himself into Wen’s shoes, he could comprehend why Wen was so outraged. Wen simply cared so much about continuing the family tree. It seemed too immature for him to get ‘divorced’ shortly after the marriage. Given such a chance to marry, he should have treasured it and had the next generation of Wang. Nonetheless, it would be disastrous if he exposed the truth in front of all the staff. Both choices had their own consequences, and Lou had to choose. He chose to sacrifice the sweet reunification for his safety, and for his brother’s good. Otherwise, Wen would be worried about him all the time, causing him another burden. Lou gazed outside the window. The sight of two birds perching over the same leaf drew his attention.

Fiction: Group 4

Chapter 5 As time flew by, Wen’s business was more prosperous than ever. He owned a factory of his own, and branches soon scattered throughout Hong Kong. Back then, only a handful of enterprises could grow to such a scale. Despite scolding his brother, he himself had not married. Every day he would check his mail box to see if Lou had sent him an invitation letter to his wedding. Yet it never came. At a point, he planned to further his business in Guangdong. In fact, he had chosen Dongguan as the place. He had arranged everything well. Having an agreement with the government, he was permitted to set up a manufacturing site but transfer the ownership to the government. In fact, the officials were fascinated by this plan as benefits were believed to be considerable. Soon, employees were recruited and the factory was ready. It was mid-summer when the factory began its operation. All the procedures went as Wen planned. For the first few months, Wen was extremely satisfied with the running of the new factory. When everything was settled, he made his return trip to Hong Kong. Chapter 6 Another couple of years passed, and Wen decided to go to Dongguan again to have a regular inspection on the factory. There he would stay several months and familiarise himself with the economic environment there. In less than no time, China changed dramatically. The once productive and ambitious place had suddenly been penetrated with various kinds of ridiculous slogans and marching crowds. Every day people would gather and chant hymns of Chairman Mao. Wen had no idea of what the chaos meant, but he had heard of the term ‘Cultural Revolution’ from his colleagues from Guangzhou. Students, emerging from nowhere, would parade on the streets and yell slogans ecstatically. Yet, Wen had no idea what exactly was going on. But there was one thing for sure – the entire movement did not involve him. From the newspapers he read every morning, only high-rank officials were accused and arrested for an array of treasonable crimes. Anyway, he focused on his work and was nonchalant of what was going outside. No one interrupted Wen. No Red Guards broke into the factory; except for a number of times they commanded Wen to hang the red posters. Everything went well for Wen, until the fifth month. Chapter 7 By then, the country was literally uncontrollable. Officials were arrested in tens every day and brought to the gruelling torture of the crowd. One open-minded official who allowed Wen to set up his factory in Dongguan once suggested the Party to be more lenient to foreign enterprises. The other day he was condemned of being a ‘capitalist-roader’ and beaten by the Red Guards. Next, all those with close connection with him were located, including Wen, and faced the same fate as him. Not a single soul was spared. At that time, the development of Dongguan was still at a preliminary stage. It was not considered to be ideal place for the Red Guards to perform corporal punishment on the arrested. As a result, Wen, among some of his colleagues, was sent to Guangzhou. The torture seemed forever for him. At noon he was brought onto a stage and carried out the ‘punishment methods’ invented by the Red Guards. For Wen, the one was called the ‘hanging airplane’. From dusk to dawn he would have his arms hung backwards and his feet raised in the air, until he became unconscious. Then, he would be forced to kneel on an iron nail mat. The cycle repeated for weeks. On the seventeenth day, when Lou was off duty, he took care to visit the execution spot as one of the managers of his textile enterprise was sent there as well. When he arrived at there, he simply could not believe what he had seen. The silhouette of his beloved brother caught his glimpse – Wen was the next one to stand on the stage! This Wen, now shoulders sloped and full of smears and scars on his face, never looked up once. Lou swiftly squeezed through the crowd and stood in the front. Now he was certain it was Wen standing some metres before him. ‘Next,’ the Red Guards shrieked. Wen was dragged onto the slippery

Fiction: Group 4

stage flooded with blood. Then, the routine punishment started with the ‘airplane’ posture. Obviously, he was overwhelmed by agony. His head was still hanging down, but now, on the stage, he noticed Lou’s presence. With all his might and will, he muttered, ‘Lou, here…’ and was instantly snapped by a Red Guard beside him. ‘Wait! Do you all hear?’ The Red Guard bellowed at the public. ‘He has an accomplice! A dog!’ The Guard poked his finger at Wen. ‘May I ask, what is he called?’ He tilted his head and questioned him in a soft but dangerous voice. Wen felt a surge of nervousness running through his body, mixed with hatred. A snap. ‘Answer me!’ Wen decided to remain silent. He would never give away his brother for snaps. Another snap. Blood and tears rushed down across Wen’s cheeks. He had forgotten all his fortune in Hong Kong. The pain reached a peak, as drops of liquid dripped onto the ground. A third snap. ‘Find him, everyone!’ the Guard ordered. It was ominous. Lou knew something would happen. He imagined himself being recognised and brought to the stage. He could nearly see himself being tortured in the same way Wen did. Yet, he remained dead silent. ‘Where is he?’ Then came the fourth snap. The crowd showed no response. They had not even a clue. They exchanged glimpses and stared blankly at the young Red Guard on the stage. To Lou’s relief, no one pointed at him. Snaps came like thunder and lightning to Wen. Strands of fresh blood flowed down his face swiftly like paint. Wen was at the mercy of the Guard, and it was to a point that Lou’s eyes became watery. Tears gradually formed and he was at the verge of snivelling. He tried to swallow and prevent the crowd from finding him weeping. The Guard acted like sniffing at everyone and did not have the patience of spotting the accomplice. Suddenly, Lou could not help sobbing. It broke the horrible silence of the enchanted crowd. He knew for certain this would give his identity away, but he could not stand watching the torture… ‘And you are crying for this evil?’ burst out the Red Guard. ‘Lift him up to the stage!’ He barked. Lou was emotionless – his mind was occupied by scenes of whipping and beating. They beamed in flashes. He paid no attention to the ones bringing him to stage. He had anticipated the moment when Wen and he would be executed together. The man behind him shoved his head downwards. ‘The accomplice is here!’ Lou felt a rush of adrenaline. The Guard offered him two choices, either to be punished like Wen or ‘correct’ Wen’s wrongdoings by denouncing him. Now Lou was caught in a dilemma. Thousands of voices were shouting in his mind. On the one hand, the ego-centred side whispered, ‘Just say “Defeat the evil dog! Chang Wen the traitor!” You are safe!’ On the other hand, his conscience had him retreated from the selfish thought. He hated himself now for his failure to stop weeping.

Fiction: Group 4

A gigantic palm flashed on his left cheek – the pain was unbearable. Lou had not made up his mind. The second snap was delivered. Hatred gradually took shape in Lou’s heart towards the Guard. ‘This is your last chance to speak up,’ threatened the Guard. Thousands of thoughts ran across Lou’s mind, yet he was determined not to betray his brother. Wen showed no response; he was nearly unconscious. In fact, Lou’s hesitation meant a longer duration of Wen’s torture. Finally, Lou confessed to being Wen’s accomplice. The crowd was now enthralled and went wild. Slogans stormed in the air as Lou was put to torture. ‘Bang!’ Wen passed out and fell. It was Lou’s turn. Chapter 8 Wen confessed his ‘crimes’ which he had never heard of. Everything he possessed in the Mainland was confiscated, including the factory. The Hong Kong border was closed during the Cultural Revolution, so Wen was forced to stay in the Mainland. According to the newspapers, hundreds of workers protested outside his factory in Hong Kong, each holding the Little Red Book. The managers were surrounded and made to halt the operation of the factory. The loss was beyond estimation. Within a fraction of a second, Wen’s business failed through. But this was no longer important to Wen anymore; rather, it was his own life and his beloved brother’s. For some reason, Lou had to be ‘re-educated’ through labour after the corporal punishment had ended. In fact, it was not until the end of the Cultural Revolution that Lou was released. He never saw Wen. Chapter 9 The reform and opening-up policy was officially adopted by Deng in 1978. After the decade of calamity, the economy would soon be on its way to revive. People painted the town red as factories re-opened and universities continued. This was also the time when Wen and Lou paid their final visit to Mother. They were in the hospital. It was a reunion after the brothers had abandoned her. They told her everything about how all those years came and went. Mother clutched to her son’s hands and whispered, ‘Life is full of hardships, and I know I was wrong at that time. I could not forbid you from taking your own risks and living your own life. I was truly selfish. This is what life means to us. I struggled to survive in the war and you two suffered in the political movements. This is life. Treasure it.’ Her eyes closed. Chapter 10 In the 1980s Wen emigrated to the United states, after the trauma of the Cultural Revolution. He lived on a shoestring budget in Chicago. In the blink of an eye, nine and a half years had passed. As the next reunion was round the corner, Wen went to the travel agency. When he returned home, he received a trunk call.

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Wen arrived at Guangzhou Baiyun Airport, where he was picked up by Lou’s son. Chapter 11 Somewhere tranquil in Foshan, Wen stood in front of Lou’s grave, mourning.

Fiction: Group 4

A Tale of Two Cities St. Joseph's College, Lam, Pater - 16, Fiction: Group 4

‘Let us always meet each other with a smile, for the smile is the beginning of love.’

- Mother Teresa

Aaron ‘Good evening ladies and gentlemen welcome aboard the WaterJet to Macau, please note that.…’

female voice whizzes past my ear as I take out the stashed newspaper in my bag to read. ‘Property prices remain high, citizens longing for a flat in hot water,’ the title reads. ‘God, how can we be able to purchase flats in this situation,’ I murmur.

‘You should see the price of flats in Macau,’ a female voice next to me says. ‘Well, yeah, the prices are even higher in Macau.’ I turn towards her. Her skin is tanned, her long hair is jet black. Her lips are curled up, giving a sly smile, almost mocking. ‘Luckily, they have good social welfare.’ ‘Well, it isn’t of much help. I mean how can five thousand suffice? We local residents barely scrape by with our low income,’ she shoots back, giving me a stern look. A moment later she smiles again. ‘Anyway, I don’t think I got your name.’ ‘Aaron. You?’ ‘Linda,’ she replies, stretching out her hand. I clasp my hand on hers and shake it. ‘Hard life living in the Pan River Delta, huh?’ she says. ‘W…well…,’ I stutter, amazed by her light tone. ‘Well, yeah, I…I mean the living costs are pretty high.’ ‘Yeah, I figured. Guess that’s the side effect of having rapid economic growth.’ ‘Uh huh. Lives of the locals are getting harder and tougher by day.’ ‘It’s not like we don’t benefit from it at all. I mean, I do have more people coming over to buy egg tarts at my shop near the ruins of St. Paul’s Cathedral. But the bloating costs are just…unbearable.’ She falls silent. I turn my head towards the neighboring window and see waves splattering outwards, like a flower petal, reflecting sunshine as they fly mid-air. They dazzle for a short while, then re-combine with the bluish-green sea. ‘So what are you doing in Macau?’ she asks, breaking the veil of silence. ‘Holiday.’ I think for a second. ‘Did you just say you run an egg tart shop near the ruins of St Paul’s Cathedral?’ ‘Yes I did.’ ‘Would you mind showing me your shop?’ She hesitates for a second, and says, ‘Sure.’

Linda Before we alight Aaron has already told me a lot about himself: he works in a bank in Hong Kong, he’s single, and he lives in a 400 square-foot flat. Strange how I feel at ease around him, and strange how he can trust me despite having only a brief acquaintance. We board a bus together, and I look out the window as the trees and trunks turn into a blur as the bus moves. ‘This is my stop. See you tomorrow,’ he says, as he takes his bag, and exits the bus. He disappears into a majestic lobby with gold-lined pillars and statues on either side of the entrance. Next to the lobby is a pond, where gondolas are parked. It looks Venetian, not even close to what Macau is. But I guess that’s what people like – luxury instead of local culture. It is hard to believe that this huge Y-shaped 5-star hotel could be built upon a piece of bare land which held nothing but emptiness. The next day I go to my shop at 8 am, an hour earlier than usual for Aaron. I told him that usually at 10 the plaza will be filled with tourists and Mainlanders and he won’t have the chance to appreciate the ruins. As I look outside the window from within my shop I see a brown, carved wall

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standing in the sky. The arched hollows on the wall are penetrated by the sky, painting the arches with sky blue, and an occasional splat of white. Aaron arrives in brown shorts and a white t-shirt at 9, half an hour earlier than our arrangement. ‘You’re early,’ I say. ‘It wouldn’t be nice to leave a lady waiting.’ I grin, and take out an egg tart for him. ‘Thank you.’ After he finishes, I ask, ‘Do you know the story behind the façade?’ ‘No,’ he answers, shaking his head, with his eyes on me. ‘During a typhoon in 1835 a fire started in the Cathedral, and burned down most of it. The structure was so damaged the government ordered demolition, while keeping the southern façade, the one you see now, intact as it was not completely destroyed. Later, concrete and steel were added to the façade and what’s left of the cathedral was turned into a museum.’ His eyes are fixated on mine. He says, ‘Wow, an egg-tart vendor, and a historian. Impressive.’ ‘Hey, I am part of the tourist industry of Macau; of course I need to know something about it.’ He smiles, a sweet, boyish smile, and remains silent. His head then turns towards the façade. Come on ask me to show you around, ask, ask, ask, ask, ask! ‘So…would you like me to show you around?’ I ask. My heart is up in my throat. He looks at me. His eyes are brown and electric, sending a current all over my body every time he looks at me. His hair is like leaves: short, and fluttering every time a breeze passes by. His features are strong, with a defined jaw. He opens his mouth, and says, ‘Yes, please. That’ll be nice.’

Aaron I put my bag onto the floor of my apartment, and turn on the television. ‘Earlier today the pro-government and pro-democracy protestors, also known as the blue ribbons and yellow ribbons, had yet another conflict…’ The 2 days of serenity in Macau are turning into a distant dream. But who am I kidding; there is no serenity in the Pearl River Delta. All there is is growth, growth and growth – fast-paced, intense living with the sole aim of increasing competitiveness, even with our family and friends at disposal. I sigh, and tilt my head backwards so that I can rest on the rim of the sofa. Suddenly, I see a piece white piece of paper with words scribbled on it lying on the white, glossy floor:

Linda: +853 6403 9823 Let’s chat some time

A smile spreads unconsciously over my face. Never have I seen such a strong, independent woman: the sarcasm in her voice, the conviction in her eyes, the determination in her face. I guess that is the product of progress. Nowadays females depend less and less on males, and some of them are even wealthier and more successful than males. After all, gender equality is stressed nowadays, and as one of the most developed and international regions in China, the Pearl River Delta is sure to be first to experience its effects. On the LED screen are more images of people shouting, fighting. It may be a concern in the first few days, but the continuous bombardment is getting tiresome. I long for Linda – her long black hair swaying like hula dancers in the wake of the breeze, her face that is filled with color and lights up like fireworks when she talks. I take out my phone, and dial her number. ‘Hello?’ a female voice says through the speaker. ‘Hey,’ I say in a sweet tone, smiling. ‘Who’s this?’ her pitch rising, as if soaring into the endless space above. ‘Don’t you remember me?’ ‘Should I?’ I hesitate for a moment, and say, ‘It’s… Aaron.’ ‘Oh, Aaron! I’m sorry. Guess I should’ve asked for your number too,’ she giggles.

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I laugh in return. So she hasn’t forgotten me. What a relief. ‘So, why are you calling?’ she asks. ‘Well I… I don’t know.’ ‘You don’t… know?’ ‘Yeah, maybe because I want somebody to talk to, someone smart and assured.’ Then comes a moment of silence, like a cloud covering up the bright, pale moon in the night. Darkening the sky as it does. ‘I… I am sure that there are more smart and assured guys you could talk to,’ she says swiftly, like lightning: one minute it’s there, another it’s gone. I sigh. ‘It seems that it’s of a reverse nature these days. Guys can be really indecisive.’ ‘So... what do you want to talk about?’ ‘Are you aware of the umbrella revolution in Hong Kong?’ ‘Yeah, I mean it’s all over the news. Fight for democracy, valid universal suffrage.’ ‘It’s getting tiring,’ I say with a slight sigh. ‘Why, doesn’t it concern the future of your home?’ ‘I know it does.’ It comes out a bit louder than I want to. ‘But all those conflicts, all those fights, all those accusations: it’s as if Hong Kong is being torn apart, you know? People are starting to unfriend their friends on Facebook, police are called dogs, the whole of society is resorting to violence when they think their voices are unheard. What’s the good of universal suffrage when faced with these?’ ‘I… I… Well, I don’t know what to say.’ Her tone changes. Gone are the sarcasm and fun, replaced by pity and concern. The moon is clouded once again. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you with my problems.’

After a moment, ‘Bye.’ ‘Wait!’ A voice strikes my eardrums, as if thunder. ‘Wait. It’s ok, I’m cool with your problems. It’s just that… take it this way: China is just starting to rise from the ashes. Give it time. I’m sure that it will all get better in the future. Besides, what’s success without struggle?’ Her voice is soothing, like a hand on my head, warm, comforting. ‘Well, I hope you’re right.’ Witty and empathetic. If only I could see her more.

Linda Another day of business for me. Another day not seeing Aaron. Pathetic. It’s been 2 months since he left Macau. He has been calling me every single night ever since. Well, sometimes it is me who calls. The plaza is packed with people as usual. I doubt if a single drop of water could seep through the crowd. Voices and shouting fill the air, rattling, raw, ruthless. The stairs to the façade are filled with people: some sitting, some standing, some holding cameras; most speaking Mandarin. Ever since the handover, the small, quiet city of Macau has turned into a bustling place, bursting with energy and neon lights. ‘Hey you, one egg tart!’ one shouts in Mandarin. ‘Hey, egg tart!’ another shouts in Mandarin. ‘Egg tart!’ ‘Give me an egg tart!’ ‘COME ON, HURRY UP, I WANT AN EGG TART!’ All these Mandarin shouts are dynamite, exploding inside my brain, devastating, painful, obliterating everything in their wake. ‘May I have 2 tarts, please?’ A gentle, warm voice says in Mandarin. I look up, and see a man with his girlfriend in front of me. I freeze for a moment.

The voice speaks again. ‘Are you ok?’ ‘Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.’ I wipe my hands on my apron. ‘Don’t push her, she’s been working all day,’ the girl says, smiling. ‘Take your time, we can wait.’ I take out two tarts from the oven, and give them to the man.

As he is paying I say, ‘Came to Macau with your girlfriend for a holiday?’ ‘Yeah,’ he smiles, turning his head to the girl.

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‘Well, have a great time,’ I say, grinning. ‘Thank you,’ the girl says, beaming, and they walk away, hand in hand.

I am looking at the two lovebirds overflowing with joy and glee. Then suddenly, ‘HEY, FOCUS ON YOUR WORK, GIVE ME AN EGG TART.’

I grin, fake as it is. My, my do you know who I am? I am the boss of this shop. But it doesn’t matter, soon enough my thoughts drift off to an image of Aaron and I walking, hand in hand like the two lovebirds, in the battered stone-paved streets of France, or Vienna? Doesn’t matter. My god, you have only known him for two months, Linda. You don’t even know if he likes you. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! ‘EGG TART.’

Aaron 6 months after my first visit, I return to Macau. It’s warmer now; spring is everywhere – the trees, the birds, the flowers and the sky, all singing the tune of life, of rejuvenation. But this time, the reason isn’t solely a vacation, It’s her. At 7 pm I stand in a corner opposite her shop, waiting, concealing myself, and looking at Linda: Her swift movements, her quick responses, her agile fingers: an independent woman. Over the last 6 months she and I have talked on the phone almost every day. Sometimes I called, sometimes she called. Always talking about ourselves and how we feel and what special things we have seen. Every 2 to 3 weeks she would come to Hong Kong, or I would go to Macau, to see each other and hang out. I think I am starting to like her. But no, why would she like a man like me: absorbed in work, doesn’t know how to have fun. I don’t think she would even miss me. Finally, she’s closing her shop. I walk up to her and say, ‘Need a hand?’ She turns to me, eyes widened, beaming with joy, and laughs. ‘Of course! Do you think I’m a superwoman who can do everything on her own?’ After she’s done, I say, ‘Come, let me buy you dinner.’ ‘Nah I’d actually prefer a pork chop bun.’ She smiles shyly, embarrassed. ‘Ok, pork chop bun it is.’ I take her hand, and her face glows immediately with a tinge of pale crimson. And then off we go to buy ourselves buns. We sit arm to arm on a stair in front of the façade. We look down, and see haphazard patches of golden yellow on buildings and streets. ‘Finished?’ I ask as I see her squash her paper bag into a ball. ‘Yeah.’ ‘Come on, walk to the top with me.’ And I take her hand.

Linda YES, HE HELD MY HAND, HE HELD MY HAND, HE HELD MY HAND. My mind transforms into a bird, fluttering at every step I take, willing for altitude. When we arrive at the front of the façade, he holds both of my hands. My cheeks are suddenly scorching. ‘Linda, I… want to tell you something.’ Oh please do. ‘Yes?’ I answer. I gaze into his eyes, and he gazes into mine. I can hear a train rushing by. Is it a train? Or is it my heart? Doesn’t matter. ‘I… have to leave Hong Kong.’ Wait what. ‘I have business in Europe. So it may take a while before I can return.’ I can feel a lump of spikes in my throat, I can feel the pain throbbing and magnifying. ‘So… what you mean is… you’re leaving? I can’t see you in 2 weeks’ time?’ ‘Yes.’ That’s it, the dam broke. The heat in my eyes is too overwhelming and tears start to flood out. I look at him, and I can see his eyes are wet, too. I turn away from him. ‘Linda,’ he says.

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I turn to look at him, and that’s when he kisses me.

Aaron She puts her arms around me, wrapping me tight. So after all, I am not only having a crush on her; it’s not a one-way road, but two-way.

After a period that seems like forever, we break apart, and we laugh. She sniffs and hugs me so tight I don’t think I can even breathe. But I don’t care.

When we break apart again, she says, ‘Call me when you’re there, ok? I’m going to miss you.’ And she hits me lightly with a fist.

‘Of course.’ I hesitate, and continue. ‘You know, I didn’t think you would like me.’ ‘Oh, why?’ she answers. ‘You know, you’re so independent, strong and determined. I didn’t think you would like a guy like me.’ ‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ she says, slapping me on my shoulder.

Linda ‘Hey Aaron.’ ‘Hey.’ It is nice to hear his voice, it’s like music in my ears. ‘How’s life in England?’ ‘Good.’ ‘Do you miss my egg tarts?’ ‘To be frank that’s not the thing that I miss the most.’ ‘Then what is?’ I ask. ‘You, silly.’ My cheeks are warm, and my mouth curls up unconsciously. ‘Hey, do you remember when you talked to me about the conflicts in Hong Kong?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘I know how to answer now.’ ‘Ok, tell me,’ he answers, sounding agitated. ‘That’s because nowadays people have stopped smiling at the simplest things. They want things that are bigger and better all the time without taking the time to smile at one another, and love their family and friends, especially in a fast-growing region like the Pearl River Delta. It’s like they take their relationships for granted. They focus on their phones and computers and work without realizing the importance of love in life. They stopped smiling all the time. But this, my love, can be solved with time, so don’t worry.’ ‘Wow… still the smart one, aren’t you? So, what about you? Will you stop smiling at me? Will you take me for granted?’ The answer doesn’t even need to be processed by my brain. ‘Never.’

Fiction: Group 4

Lessons and Blessings St. Margaret's Co-Educational English Secondary and Primary School

(Secondary Section), Bezant, Diana - 16, Fiction: Group 4

ooking back on how things used to be, I can’t quite believe how things are now. Everything was calm, quiet and serene; one could sit up early and watch the sun rise without obstruction. The birds used to nest near the old banyan tree and sing a beautiful song to wake me up. During the cooler part

of the day, you could see children running around and playing amid the teenagers watching over them for their parents. Such was the life back then, where I used to live, I have such fond memories of my little village. Which now I cannot recognize from the images that live on in my head from when I was a child. I grew up in a little village in Pan Yu which is now known as Guang Zhou, my father was a merchant and my mother stayed at home to mind the children. I remember when my father came home excitedly and told tales of strange people coming from lands far away, bearing medicine from the west, these foreign merchants wished to trade with us, they wanted silk and porcelain , I admit these objects have their beauty but back then I wondered why they didn’t just make them themselves. My mother and grandmother both were highly skilled in the process of making silk; they guarded it like a secret and when the time came for me to learn they bade me to keep it unknown. The foreigners wanted to know the secret of making silk so badly, many of the foreigners tried to ask us and figure out the process but none of us would give it up. The emperor too wanted to keep the knowledge of making silk among the Chinese, perhaps he could see the business opportunities that the trade brought. Now I understand that since the people from the west were demanding silk, many decided to keep them from knowing how it was made to make sure that they kept coming back for more instead of vandalizing and stealing our tradition. You can call it business if you wish, but we believed that we were protecting our history. We kept a large stack of trays in a room of our house, the trays were full of what I used to call silkies – that is, the worms that were used to make silk. They ate freshly chopped mulberry leaves at almost every hour of the day, my job as a child was to gather the leaves, and then feed them to the worms. Eight or nine days after they started spinning their cocoons, we baked them to kill the worms and then dipped the cocoons into hot water to loosen the threads. Over time, the trade of silk and other oriental goods like our finest porcelain was sought after by many from the west, they were strange people, no one could understand what they said. Soon the road on which they took to and from Pan Yu was called the great Silk Road since the main reason they kept coming back was for more silk. Of course, soon other countries found ways to make their own silk and the demand for Chinese silk came to a halt, the monopoly of silk had ended and the dependable income we earned from the foreign trade we received over the years started to fall slightly as less and less of our prized silk goods were bought by the foreigners. We were outraged, how dare they cast us off? Our silk was the best of its kind and we were first. They stole our idea! They made promises to keep business with us but we were betrayed and now they left us with nothing. Our protests and complaints fell on deaf ears of course and the Silk Road trade dropped more year after year. When dear mother passed on and the silk trade had declined, father was heartbroken and struggling, all us children had grown and father wanted us to have a more stable life, but life in our village in Pan Yu had slowed to the point where we were close to having nothing to put on the table. We had built our lives up on the Silk Road trade and we knew nothing but silk-making. Now we had nothing as many could make their own silk so it was not of much use here. Of course, I felt a lot of bitterness towards the westerners; I associated them with deceit and betrayal. They took what we had to offer and left once they had their fill. I believed that I would never have to deal with them again. My father heard of a boom in trade in Shen Zhen, we packed up and were off within days along the way we offered silks and other items made of course from silk to help keep us going as we passed from town to town. It was our first time seeing the world outside our little village, it was strange and exciting. At the same time we missed Pan Yu, I suppose you never love your home as much until you have to leave and then you realize just how great a place it was. Upon our arrival at Shen Zhen, we were instantly swept away by the vastness of the markets, full and bustling with people, many wanted our silk and it was a great feeling knowing that we were back in

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business. It thrilled my brother, sister and I since we were itching for an adventure after the long journey we had. That year however, we struggled, we could not make enough silk goods to sell in time. We were running out of options, we tried everything from increasing the price and working longer hours to make things to sell, but to no avail. Brother had to leave and work in the docks to help us out with expenses. To make things worse father was getting ill and we could not afford to go find a doctor. Times were tough, but somehow we got through. My youngest Sister started making little woven bags and filled them with rice and wrote blessings on them and touted them at the market, we did anything we could to survive. In time, father passed on and our family split up. Brother worked on the ships carrying cargo to many exotic places. My Sister and I worked in the markets, buying and selling different goods, we still kept up our sale of silk, but the quality was not as fine as the silk we made in our village. We got restless, business was sufficient but we wanted more, we wanted to be able to provide for our families instead of simply getting by. Shen Zhen was not the place for us, but we had no ties left in our village in Pan Yu, not to mention that the journey would be a long and expensive one. As fate would have it, I met a young man surnamed Zhen and we became close, he told me stories of a place called Hong Kong, there was foreign trade there, I wondered if they were the same foreign men that I had seen in my days as a child during the booming period of the silk trade. I was apprehensive; I did not want to be fooled by those foreigners again. But even with my reluctance to deal and trade with foreigners I knew that going to Hong Kong would be the best option for us, it was close and there were opportunities to improve our lives…what more could I have asked for? He offered to take me there, and I jumped at the chance and asked Sister that night. I wrote a long letter to Brother telling him of our plans, Sister was excited and helped pack our things for the move. The journey was magical, the sun would rise, the heat would dance along our skin and the wind would play with our hair. The hours merged together as we inched closer and closer past each hill, mountain and river. The young man and I talked about Hong Kong, I was intrigued by the fact that the people there were both western and native. I shared about how I came from Pan Yu and had met the foreign men before, and how the decline of trade along the Silk Road almost led us to ruin, and how then we moved to Shen Zhen, he shared great tales of the Pearl River Delta, and numerous of thieves along the Silk Road, and of traders bartering with merchants much to my amusement. Soon we saw Hong Kong, a bustling fishing village, with plenty of foreigners, all of whom were very fascinated by the hand woven silk bags, dresses and scarves Sister and I had made, of course I couldn’t have ignored the fact that they were our main source of income so I had to be polite and learn the language. Our reputation grew and we became very successful, we expanded and soon we were known amongst the foreigners. We learned that their culture was very different from ours and now of course, the west and the east coexist peacefully and the new generation has the best of both worlds, a fusion of cultures that cannot be replicated anywhere else in the world. My daughter is now being immersed in this world of diverse culture, she has learned the rich history that the Pearl River delta has to offer and she knows that every place and culture has a back story and this is just one of the many different versions. My daughter has taught me even more about this mix of culture as she takes after her father in looks, with long golden hair that I envy, and bright blue eyes that never seem to judge, but she sounds and acts like a typical Chinese girl, much to the amusement of my friends. They ask me what it is like having a ‘mixed’ family. I reply “every day is a lesson and every day is a blessing”.

Fiction: Group 4

Fate St. Margaret's Co-Educational English Secondary and Primary School

(Secondary Section), Del Mundo, Gillian - 14, Fiction: Group 4

uanzang spotted his grandson leave the school campus. “Xiaoming!” Xuanzang called out. His 9-year-old grandson took notice and his face lit

up. “Grandpa!” his grandson, Xiaoming, cried out as he ran towards his grandfather. Xuanzang embraced him tightly, happy to see his only grandson after two years. “How was school?” Xuanzang asked. “It was great! Today, we learnt about the Pearl River Delta.” “Oh?” Xuanzang could not help but reminisce about his adventures back in his halcyon days when he

first visited Macau.

Back in the late 1970s, Xuanzang always dreamt of travelling alone. Now that he was in his twenties, his parents finally decided to give him enough money to fulfill that dream.

When Xuanzang arrived at the railway station, he wondered, where to go? He looked around and saw a young lady.

“Excuse me,” Xuanzang said, and she turned at him. “May I help you?” she asked nicely. “Yes, do you have any suggestions on where to travel for Chinese New Year?” “Well, if you’d like, take this map,” the lady said. Xuanzang unfolded the map he was given and scanned it through. Then he spotted a suitable

destination, Macau. He heard about what one was able to do there, and it seemed quite interesting.

“The train has arrived,” the train station’s speakers blared out. “Come on, Grandpa!” Xiaoming said. “The train might leave soon!” He ran with haste towards the train entrance with his grandfather a few steps behind him. Xuanzang stared outside the window of the train. Nostalgic memories flowed through his mind as the

train passed the Lisboa Hotel. “Grandpa, what are you looking at?” Xiaoming asked with a quizzical expression. His grandfather

pointed at the hotel. “I was just remembering the days when that hotel wasn't replete with fancy lights or decorations.” “Really? What did it look like before?” “Well, it definitely wasn’t twelve stories high! In fact, that hotel only had three floors when it first

opened.”

Young Xuanzang arrived at his hotel of choice. With all the stories he heard from other tourists on the train, he thought the Lisboa Hotel was a good place to stay in. Once Xuanzang placed all his belongings in his room, he immediately left to go sightseeing. As he left the hotel, he took a brochure next to the counter to help lead the way.

Xuanzang took out a pen from his pocket and circled the first destination on the brochure’s map that he would go to: the Tai Pa Village.

It read: Tai Pa village preserves a large part of Tai Pa’s history with its traditional Chinese shops and colonial churches and temples.

Xuanzang and Xiaoming finally arrived at the Tai Pa Village and were greeted by Xiaoming’s parents, as well as his grandmother.

“Grandma Chuntao!” Xiaoming gasped in surprise. “Xiaoming, you have grown up so much,” Chuntao smiled. Xiaoming gave his grandmother a kiss on the cheek, then scurried away, excited to visit the shops

around the village, while his parents wearily chased after him. On the other hand, Xuanzang and Liqin decided to take a tranquil stroll down memory lane.

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Fiction: Group 4

“Look at that, Xuanzang,” Liqin said, pointing at a small restaurant called Galo. “It has not changed a bit since the first time we met!”

The village did not seem too crowded when compared to the unequivocally hectic area surrounding the hotel, but Xuanzang still felt entranced by the Macau atmosphere. With the smell of exotic cuisine escaping from several restaurants mixed with the aromatic scent from local pastry shops, Xuanzang was in a trance.

“Sorry!” a lady said as she bumped into him. When she looked at him, her eyes widened in surprise. “It’s you!” the young lady exclaimed with a grin. “I’ve never really had a chance to say thank you,” Xuanzang replied. “It was just a map, so there’s no need for thanks. Would you like some lunch? I know a good place

to eat.” The both of them headed towards a small Portuguese restaurant called Galo. The food there was a

symphony of Portuguese and Chinese dishes, and Xuanzang could not help admitting that the food there was like no other!

After their quick lunch, they decided to check out several pastry shops for desserts. The shops were lined up neatly along the cobblestone pavements like military platoons, and the noise slowly died down, leaving a peaceful atmosphere to wander around. He could not believe that a village so picturesque could even exist!

The sun has settled down, and Xuanzang and the lady were about to part ways. “Thank you for guiding me around the village,” Xuanzang said. “It was my pleasure,” she replied. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Mr.-“ “Xuanzang,” he said. They both completely forgot to introduce themselves due to their captivating

surroundings. “Mr. Xuanzang, my name is Chuntao. I hope to see you again one day.” “Perhaps we could meet again tomorrow?” Her eyebrows rose in slight surprise, but it was quickly replaced with a gentle smile. “That would be splendid.” “Happy New Year Grandpa, Grandma!” Xiaoming exclaimed as both of his grandparents exited the

house. “See you again soon!” The both of them first headed to A-Ma Temple to pay their respects before they returned to their

home in Zhuhai. “I remember coming here with you and our daughter, Chunhua, when she was just a little girl,”

Chuntao said breezily. “Yes.” was all Xuanzang could manage. How he missed those days when it was just the three of

them, but of course, he knew that one day his daughter had to grow up. “A long time ago, it used to be a very ordinary temple,” Chuntao continued. “But times are

changing; now it’s a place accessible to everyone, since it’s a heritage site.” Chuntao gestured Xuanzang to follow her as she headed towards the Prayer Room.

The room was filled with a strong scent of incense. Xuanzang could feel it travelling into his lungs with his every breath. “Let’s pray,” Chuntao told him, and Xuanzang nodded.

“I pray for the family to stay together.” Chuntao began. “No matter if time quickly passes by and if everything keeps changing, I pray that the only thing that will be kept from changing is our family.”

As Chuntao continued to pray, Xuanzang could not help but smile as he silently listened by her side. Opportunity

Simon looked out his office’s window. Today was the day he would finally retire, and pass on his position as manager of his garment company, Good Fortune.

“Mr. Chan,” his assistant said as she entered his office. “Your son is here to see you.” His son Robert Chan walked in, giving his father a polite nod and sat down on the seat opposite to

the desk.

Fiction: Group 4

“Well, Robert,” Simon said as he sat on his seat. “Have you made a decision?” “Father,” he replied with a respectful tone, “I really appreciate your offer. However, I think it

would be better if someone else would take your position.” His father nodded. Simon presciently foresaw this kind of answer. He sighed and clasped his hands tightly together.

“Very well then,” he said with a sigh. He knew that his son would decline, but he still felt quite disappointed, though he knew he would not be able to change his mind. “However, I had always wanted to tell you something.”

His son’s eyes widened with curiosity. “Although you refused to work here, I have always planned on telling you my story nonetheless.

You are my son, after all.” His father gestured his son to stand up and walk towards the wide window of his office. “What do you see?” His son looked at him with surprise and confusion. “Um…” his father could not help but chuckle at his son’s expression. It has been a while since they

had a father-to-son conversation. “I see buildings, I guess?” His father nodded to show that he was listening. “What else do you see?” His son tried his best to look at what his father seemed to be looking at, but to no avail. “Cars? Buses? I don’t really get what you’re trying to say, dad.” His father chuckled again. “You know, long before you were born, and even before I met your mother, these buildings

didn’t exist. Do you know how they came to be?” His son furrowed his brows together.

“Construction?” “Yes, but there’s more to that. Before construction, they needed a plan. Before a plan, they needed

discussion. Before discussion, they needed communication, and so on. But the very first thing they needed was inspiration.”

His son still looked perplexed as his father continued. “Have I ever told you my stories when I was your age?”

Simon graduated university as an honor student with a degree in Banking and Finance. A few years

later, he even managed to work as a management trainee in the famous HSBC. Though, to Simon, it was not a job he reveled in.

“I have to work harder,” he would say to himself. “If I want to have a better position, I have to prove to them that I am capable of it!”

After numerous months of hard work, his manager finally recognized his determination and outstanding performance.

“Mr. Chan,” his manager’s assistant called. “Mrs. Zhang wants to see you.” Mr. Chan quietly followed her to the office, where he saw Mrs. Zhang talking with a very tall

man. “Ah, Mr. Chan.” His manager said with a smile. “It’s good to see you, please take a seat.” Simon was tempted to know what was in store for him. “Am I going to be fired?” he thought. “No, it can’t be. I haven’t done anything wrong. Maybe she

just has a new task for me to do. Yeah, that’s probably it.” “Mr. Chan, would you like to have a promotion?” Mrs. Zhang asked, after pouring her glass of

water. Simon’s eyes widened as she spoke. A promotion? He was holding in the urge to just cheer in

victory. “Why, that sounds…nice.” That was all he could say due to his lingering surprise. “Well, firstly, I would like you to meet Mr. Tsang,” she gestured to the tall man who she was

talking with earlier. “He’s the manager of the Global Private Banking branch.” “It is such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Chan,” Mr. Tsang greeted. “As you see, the economy is growing at an exponential rate,” Mrs. Zhang explained. “With this

speed of growth, things will be quite heated from this time around with more competition, more job

Fiction: Group 4

openings and more demands. As such, we’re going to need all the help we could muster to maintain our company.

“That’s why Mr. Tsang and I have decided for you to be promoted to work in the Global Private Banking branch.”

Simon could not believe the words coming out of Mrs. Zhang’s mouth. Working in that branch was an extremely rare opportunity.

“I heard that you made exceptional progress as a management trainee,” Mr. Tsang said. “So how would you like to help out in Global Private Banking?”

“Yes!” Simon couldn’t help but show the excitement in his voice. Finally, he could experience more of the business world.

“After my days working in Global Private Banking, I decided to explore the economy more,” Simon faced his son, who seemed to be in awe. “That’s why I decided to start up Good Fortune. It’s a reminder of my adventure to find out what I really wanted.”

“Mr. Chan,” his assistant walked into the office the second time that day. “We must leave for the conference soon.”

Simon nodded and was about to leave. “Wait!” his son said, and Mr. Chan looked at him questioningly. “I would like to think more about the job offer, dad. Just give me more time.” Simon beamed with pleasure, then turned to leave the office, along with his assistant.

Sacrifice

Boqin lay on his hospital bed, his daughter right beside him. “Jiqin.” Her father said softly. His daughter looked at him, her eyes still red from the tears. “You must

stay strong, okay? That’s all your mother and I would ever hope for.” All his daughter could do was nod. Boqin took a deep breath. It’s almost his time. He could see death awaiting him. That was when all his memories played through his mind once again. Boqin was once a young boy, who lived in the Conghua district of Guangzhou. Throughout his

childhood, he would help his parents harvest crops in their vegetable farm, as that was what his parents did for a living. Even though they were not the richest family, they were still happy.

When Boqin reached his teenage years, his parents had enough money to send him to a small high school just nearby their home.

Honestly, to Boqin, school was the best experience he had. It was definitely better than planting vegetables, and taking out weeds in the farm. There was nothing new to farm work. But in school, Boqin could learn something new everyday. Every lesson always had different knowledge in store for him, and he never felt bored..

Boqin’s strong interest in learning eventually led him to excelling in all his classes. He was a student with great academic potential, and good student discipline. He was loved by all of his teachers and schoolmates.

Eventually, Boqin’s high school years came to an end. And that was when Boqin’s happiness began to falter.

When Boqin told his parents he wanted to be a teacher, his father was not very pleased. “This farm was passed on from generation to generation!” his father fumed. “I will not let that tradition

end by the likes of a boy who is blinded by unreasonable dreams!” “But father,” Boqin pleaded. “Knowledge is what I am fond of. Why can’t you see that being a teacher is not bad! I can take care of the farm during my free time!” “Stop that! Farming requires a lot of dedication! You have to focus on that and that only!” “How can I have dedication on something I do not love?” “Stop it! Both of you!” Boqin’s mother shouted. His father was about to yell some more, when he suddenly gasped.

“Father?” Boqin did not know what to do. He helplessly stared at his father as he fell on the ground, clutching the left side of his chest.

Fiction: Group 4

Boqin and his mother managed to carry him to a doctor who lived nearby. Unfortunately, they were

too late. The both of them sat by his father’s side, with his mother sobbing quietly. “I’m sorry, father.” Boqin whispered. He repeated the words again and again, until he finally broke

down in tears. “I will take over your farm, okay father?” he said. “I’ll do as you say!” His mother placed her hand above Boqin’s clenched fist. “Boqin, no, you must not do that.” His mother said softly. “Your father would get even more furious.” His eyes looked at her in bewilderment. “Your father,” she continued, “did not mind if you wanted to be a teacher.” Boqin was taken aback by what he had heard. “He worked very hard for you to get a good education, even though he knew that he was not in his

best condition. He knew you weren’t as fond of farming as he is. Of course, he felt upset when he heard your disinterest of farming coming from your own mouth, but at the end, your father would have accepted it. If he were here with us right now, I am sure he would say ‘Whatever, do what you want!’”

Boqin let out a chuckle. That was what his father would always say when he lost an argument. He would always say that, even if he knew that he was wrong since the very beginning. It was his way of saying that he was fine with it.

A few years later, after selling his father’s farm, Boqin graduated university with a degree in Education. He then finally reached his dreams of being a teacher, and many of his students went on to become successful in their lives. To him, the best part of being a teacher was to see that the knowledge he obtained was passed on to more people.

And every year, Boqin and his mother would visit his father’s grave and they would talk with him as if

he were still with them. With Boqin’s remaining strength, he gave his daughter his widest smile. “Take care, Jiqin.” Then his vision faded away, and the last sounds he heard were the monitor beeping and the weeping of

his daughter. Epilogue It has been two years since the death of Jiqin’s father. She couldn’t help but be saddened by the fact that

her father would not be the one to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day. “What is the matter, Jiqin?” Xuanzang asked. “Oh, it’s nothing, Uncle Xuanzang.” She replied. “I was just thinking of my father.”

Xuanzang placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a warm smile. “I am sure your father would be very happy for this day.” After the wedding, Xuanzang and his wife, Chuntao, were about to leave, when Jiqin caught up with

them. “Wait, Uncle, Aunt!” Jiqin called. The two were greeted with a tight embrace. “Thank you for coming.” The elderly couple giggled at her affectionate gesture. “I must go now. Who knows what Robert would do with his wacky group of friends?” And so, Jiqin went off, back to dancing on the ballroom floor. And this was the story of three men filled with great adventure. Little did they know that they would

somehow be connected one day. But life is full of unexpected surprises. And one day, maybe you will meet someone with great stories to tell. Who knows? That someone may be you.

Fiction: Group 4

My Cup of Tea St. Margaret's Co-Educational English Secondary and Primary School

(Secondary Section), Gambarota, Nadia - 17, Fiction: Group 4

ince I’m a girl and I can’t go to school, I work for my father in his shop. Cleaning things, delivering packages and other things.

I was just sweeping the floor, when a few westerners walk in, my father often deals with western customers and they usually buy some of my father’s cloths to ship back to their country as it is cheaper for them. My father has no difficulty conversing with them as he went to school and leant well from an English teacher. I’ve always asked my father to teach me but he refuses to so when I have time I go to the library to read more about English and western culture. My father comes over “Mei Ling, get some tea for our guests, go!” I bring the tea over to the customers, when I’m walking towards them I can see that there are 4 westerners, 2 males and 2 females. One of the ladies had long golden hair and light blue eyes, she as well as fair skin and wore a very radiant red dress. The other wore a blue dress. Then I moved over to one of the other gentlemen and offered him a cup of tea. He was wearing a white suit and he had blond hair and a smile that could charm many people but when he accepted the cup of tea he smiled at me but I didn’t like the way his eyes followed me, it looked evil and I felt a chill down my spine. Finally, I offer the last gentleman the cup of tea and when I caught a sight of him, I could tell he was different than most westerners. He had the kindest blue eyes I have ever seen, and the nicest smile, he was very interested in what kinds of cloth my father sold. He wasn’t like the other 3 foreigners, they seemed very disinterested with my father’s store. And he was holding a small book and looking at it from time to time whilst speaking to my father in very bad Chinese. He smiled at me and said “Ehhh, thanks...for tea”. I nodded at him and walked away.

Nathan

This is my first time here in this new country, it’s so different from England’s cold, wet and foggy weather, here it’s warm and sunny which is a nice change. I look at the map and try to find the silk store owned by a man named called ‘Zhou’s Fabrics’. I look over to James to see if I can get his help but he’s too busy looking at all the women around him. He always like this. I elbowed him, “Stop it.” “Stop what?” he asked innocently. “Looking at those young girls you idiot!” He answered me with a crooked smile. Sigh. Will he ever change? I look back to make sure that the girls are catching up.

S

Fiction: Group 4

“Ladies! Come on! Let’s go!” Bridgette says “Why? We were looking at those stalls, we were thinking of buying some things to bring back to England! Right, Cindy?” “Yep!” replies Cindy. I always wondered if Bridgette was bipolar, one moment she’s saying, ‘What do you think honey?’ and then another moment she’s saying ‘I don’t care! Do whatever you want!’. I know we’re supposed to keep up appearances but it’s very exhausting with her acting like that. I focus back on the map and and I look ahead and see the sign ‘Zhou’s Fabrics’. We walk in and we’re immediately greeted by the store owner, he speaks good English and he starts introducing the process of how the fabrics are made and I’m immediately fascinated by this village’s history and culture. He excuses himself and soon appears with a young woman next to him carrying a tray with cups of tea. This must be his daughter, what a pretty girl I thought. She looked at us with an emotionless expression but I could see the hint of boredom in her face. She serves Bridgette and Cindy tea and they’re both laughing about something. She then moves on to serve tea to James and I could see that he was very interested in her by the way his gaze followed her around. When she looked at him I could see the terror in her eyes. She took a long look at me and served me tea. I hastily look through my book filled with Chinese language and tried to thank her in Chinese. She nodded at me and quickly walked away.

Mei Ling

It had been a few days since I saw those westerners. I was just thinking about going to the library, when my father walks over with the nice westerner man following behind him, he smiles at me and I feel my heart quicken again. “Mei Ling, I need you to take Mr. Nathan to the library, he wants to learn more about our business so he would like to know more about our culture and see what they have in the library. I can't take him, so you will." my father says interrupting my thoughts. He gives me his typical stern ' you will do what I say young lady' look. He turns to Mr. Nathan and tells him that I will take him there. He says something to me that I can't understand so I answer with a nod.

***

I walk down the familiar path with Mr. Nathan trailing behind, he was looking at all the stalls and shops. We arrive at the library and I guided him through the endless book shelves. I point to the bookshelf filled with what’s looking for and I let him go through it by himself. I grab a seat against the wall and leave him to his exploring.

Nathan

I am greeted by Mr. Zhou and I asked “Mr. Zhou, I hope you don’t mind but I would like to know more about how your fabrics are made, is there someplace I could learn more or perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling about it yourself?” Mr. Zhou looked apologetic “I’m so sorry Mr. Nathan, I can’t leave my store unattended...why don’t I have my daughter take you to the library?”

***

Fiction: Group 4

She leads me through the library with ease, stops at a bookshelf and points at it. And then she takes a seat in one of those chairs against the wall. I must have spent hours looking through countless books, even though it was mostly in Chinese I learnt a lot through pictures. After I was satisfied with looking through the books I looked at Mr. Zhou’s daughter, Mei Ling she looked so peaceful and like an angel sleeping. I couldn’t resist, so I stood as close as I could and stared intently at her sleeping face trying to memorize every feature.

Mei Ling

I see Mr. Nathan looking at me with a look I can't depict. I must be asleep and dreaming, but I look closely and notice that it’s real and he's actually looking at me closely. I clear my throat and get up and I saw that he was holding some books so I guess he finished his research and found what he was looking for. I start walking out of the library, when I reach the exit he says something and points at the opposite direction of where my house is. I guess he’s going home by himself, I nodded at him and start to walk away, and he tapped my shoulder. I turn around and he held out his hand, and I remember that’s how they greet each other, where they’re from. I shake his hand and smiled and walked the opposite direction and my heart raced at the thought of his hand on my shoulder.

***

It had been a few days since I last saw him and all I could think about him and being with him. I needed to clear my head. I let my feet guide me and my thoughts take a hold of me and when I finally snap out of it, I find myself in a courtyard with a beautiful fountain and lanterns hanging above and glowing under the starry sky. I walk slowly to the fountain, soaking up the lovely atmosphere, there were some small children playing and laughing together, an old woman sitting on a rocking chair and sewing up a tunic and a man playing a wonderful tune on his Pi-Pa. I slowly start to relax and sway with the sound of the instrument and the smell of peach blossoms in the night air. I take a seat on the side of the fountain and I feel at peace. I hear someone's voice and my eyes snap open and I see Nathan! What is he doing here? Is he following me? My heart races at the prospect that he followed me around like he was interested in someone like me. “The moon is very shining.” he says. -Did he just speak Chinese but before I could register what language he spoke, I laughed out loud at his broken Chinese. He looked surprised and first then chuckled. “I got it wrong huh?” he said in English, I understood him and answered in my broken English, “You...Chinese...yes...wrong”. Then he laughed and I laughed with him. Once our laughter died down we sat side by side and enjoyed the peaceful night and beautiful moon. I noticed that he was looking at me again, and I squirm under his gaze and suddenly felt very self-conscious. He stood up and held out his hand, I thought he was asking for a ‘handshake’ again. But instead he took both my hands and put them around his neck. And he started humming and swaying before I could even realize what he was doing, we were just in each other’s arms, dancing. The man with the instrument started changing the tune to a much slower and gentler mood. We must have danced for a long time because I could feel my legs start aching but that was registered far in the back of my mind. Because all I could focus on was how blue and beautiful his eyes were and that they were so clear I could see the reflection of myself. He pulled me closer and I could feel my cheeks burning up. Before I could even react, he pressed his lips hard onto mine. I couldn’t believe what was happening, he pulled me even closer and I could feel my body flush against his. He pulled away, smiled at me and gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked away and left me there in shock and awe.

Fiction: Group 4

Nathan

I couldn’t control myself anymore, she was such a sweet and kind young woman and she wasn’t like all those other woman I’ve always been with. I pressed my lips to hers and held it there for moment. She was surprised to say the least, I then gave her a kiss on the cheek and left. As I was walking away, I regret not saying anything or staying longer. But the longer I stay with her or get close to her the harder it will be for me to leave her. I arrive back at the holiday house late at night, its dark. And once I enter, I see Bridgette standing there with her arms crossed “You were with her, weren’t you?” she questioned. “Why do you care?” I said. “Because I’m your fiancé!” she screamed. “Yes you are my fiancé but until we’re married I can do as I please, like you have, ever since we were engaged.” I said calmly. “Humph” she pouted, “That’s not fair-” “You know what’s not fair? You cheating on me with another man and me still being here engaged to you!” I shot back. “Nothing to say, huh?” I walked away.

Mei Ling I fell asleep remembering the feel of his lips on mine, I was in the shop trying to focus on the chores but to no avail. I hear the bell of the door and I can hear my father calling for me. I go to him and I come to a halt at the sight of Nathan, I suddenly am overwhelmed with feelings from that night and suddenly feel very conscious. Nathan says something to my father and leaves but not before he gives me an all-knowing wink. My father comes to me and puts and hand on my shoulder and says “Mr. Nathan invited us to his holiday house for dinner tonight.” “Dinner at his house? Why father?” I acquired with a frown on my face. “Because he was very happy with you helping him out at the library and very satisfied with the products I sold to him.” “Father-” “You will go! End of discussion! And you will dress accordingly and behave! Do you understand?” “Yes father.”

***

I am standing in front of his very big mansion house dressed in the fanciest clothing I own which just a simple black silk dress with flowers along with my parents. We ring the doorbell, and one of the young woman from who visited the shop last week answered the door. She was wearing a very beautiful green dress with a plunging neckline. We all went to the dining room. Nathan pulled out a chair for me, no doubt because of his western upbringing. I blushed at his gesture and sat down. He then took a seat right across from me and the woman in green whose name turned out to be Bridgette sat on the left of Nathan. I felt a small pang of jealousy at the sight of them so close but it faded away when he smiled at me.

Fiction: Group 4

I kept my eyes on Nathan because looking at him was the only way I could get through this. I looked at him and Bridgette and I noticed that they were very close, and that they were holding hands. Then I noticed a large diamond ring on her finger and a ring on his. And I went through all my knowledge of westerners that I got from the library and remembered that a man and a woman that wears a ring on their fourth finger on their left hand meant that they were engaged. All of the sudden I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. He caught sight of my face and leaned over and said something to my father, and glanced at me with worried eyes. My father asked me in our language “Are you feeling alright, Mei Ling?” “Umm...could I go to the ladies room please? I’m not feeling too well.” I said. He said something to Nathan and he beckoned a servant to follow her to the ladies room. Once I went inside, I closed the door and slid down to the ground and started crying. How could I have been so stupid? To fall for one of them. He never loved me. He was just with me for fun. I must have sat there and bawled my eyes out for a very long time, I knew I should have just went out and pretend that nothing happened but I couldn’t bring myself to do so.

Nathan I excused myself and went upstairs to check on Mei Ling because she didn’t look too good. As I neared the top of the stairs however, I saw Bridgette standing in the doorway with James, a shocked expression on her face. James had his arm around her waist. “I-I-didn’t-mean to…” she stuttered “Save your words” I said. She was about to look at me with hopeful eyes and smile until I said “I can’t do this anymore. We’re through”.

***

I am going to go back to England to cancel my engagement with Bridgette. I do not know if I’ll go smoothly, or if I’ll ever be able to come back here to see Mei Ling and to be with her. So, with what little time I had, I wrote her a small letter in Chinese with the help of her father. I was at the docks ready to go back when Mei Ling and her family came to say goodbye. “Nathan, thank you so much for taking care of my daughter.” said Mr. Zhou. Mrs. Zhou gave me a hug and thanked me in Chinese, then Mei Ling came over and she handed me a Chinese book. “For you.” she said. “Thank you.” I replied. I am going to miss her, I wished she would come with me. I heard the ship make the final horning noise to inform passengers to get on the ship. She bowed and then started walking away. I turned her around and gave her a kiss, then handed her a letter, and said “For you.”

Mei Ling

It’s been a few weeks since the whole ordeal with James. Nathan went back to England to go take care of things with his fiancé. Before he left for England he left me a letter written in horrible Chinese writing, saying that he was going back to England, he was sorry for not telling me about his ‘fiancé’ but said that they don’t love each other. In the letter he said that he was sorry that he couldn’t tell me that he was still engaged at the time we had met. At the end of the letter he wrote me something I will never forget, “I will find my way back to you no matter what, Mei Ling.”

Fiction: Group 4

Solar Orb St. Margaret's Co-Educational English Secondary and Primary School

(Secondary Section), Jacinto, Aaron - 16, Fiction: Group 4

alcifer!!” I screamed. I stared in horror as flames began ravaging the man behind me. The flames began to feast on the décor in the grand hall.

A maniacal laughter filled the giant hall. The man sitting on a throne smiled wickedly in extreme delight. It made my blood boil. I wanted to rip that smile off his face. “Oh, Howl.” Sighed the maniacal man. “You sure did amuse me for a while but I guess your crusade has finally come to an end.” “It’s not over yet, Varric. I’m going to end this madness.” I declared while tightening my grip on the orb. “I think not.” Varric laughed. “Your prophecy is false and your friends nowhere to be seen and the most useless of the lot thinks that he can overthrow me?” I took a deep breath and bolted towards the throne. The maniacal man clicked his fingers and simultaneously the floor began to collapse revealing a giant crevice and a sea of flames found at the bottom. I ran. Paintings fell, artifacts crashed, the glassed roof collapsed. I made it on the stairway that led to the throne. I leapt through the flight of stairs and came face to face with the devil himself. I was about to show him a piece of my mind but, with a smile of impure and satanic glee, Varric kicked me off the stairs towards the crevice that caught up near the stairs. I plummeted towards the molten lava and lost all hope…. You know when you’re about to die and you see your whole entire life begins to flash before you? Well, that didn’t happen. Disappointed, I decided to figure out what went wrong with this forsaken life. I smirked. Nope, nothing. I’m absolutely perfect. Well, except for going on this noble quest of grand danger and unseen sceneries. While, I’m falling of this terribly long distance to my fiery doom, I might as well recollect my memories before burning alive. It all began…. With me unconscious and beaten up on a dirt road in the rain in the most dangerous part of Hong Kong. Rain poured on my fabulously beaten up face, waking me up to the ever gloomy polluted skies. My head hurt like hell and made me feel like being sick all over the place. But, I do have standards. I am royalty, after all. As I searched for the most appropriate and not-almost-collapsing hostel, I watched as people of this district were all begging me for coin, stealing whatever they can get their hands on even underwear from broken windows and people breaking into houses and robbing them. “That’s to be expected from the low classed district” I thought. “History books showed how marvelous of a city Hong Kong was; now it’s just a living waste dump.” I found an acceptable hostel of an inn and entered it. I looked around the place. The inn was filled thugs of all shape and sizes, all drinking their bottles of water and darting looks at me. A bulky man approached me. He towered over me and shoved me to a side. “Is there a problem, good sir?” I asked calmly. “Why, yes pretty boy. You’re going to hand me all your money right now, or else.” He threatened. “Or else, what? You’re going to pummel me? Hit me? Kick me? By all means, go ahead.”I offered. He was about to give me a right hook to the face but I interrupted him. “But you wouldn’t want Gospel guards to find me all beaten up, now would you?” I challenged while putting my hand on his shoulder. “I can take a couple of guards, all by myself!” He shouted while flexing his muscles. “Don’t you see what I’m wearing? Only royals like me can afford ruby embedded coats like these and wear scarves made of the finest silk in all of China.” I asked while presenting him my clothes. I tiptoed to get close to his ear.

“C

Fiction: Group 4

“You know what they could do, if they see a royal like me all beaten up like now.” I whispered. ‘They’d ruin this entire district within minutes just like what they did to Macau.” “Now, be a good law abiding citizen, KNOW your place and sit your butt down, you peasant.” I ordered, pointing to his stool. He gave a gruff and backed off instantaneously and went back to his seat. I smiled towards everyone else and they all looked away powerless. I headed towards the barkeep that was just a little boy and was shuddering in fear of my presence. I smiled. “Give me your finest.” I ordered. “What brings you here, s-sir,” he stammered as he made and poured some green tea. I could faintly remember a fist meeting its mark on my gorgeous face and how my delicate hands were tied on a chair. Everything else was just a blur. “Nothing much just showing the town my elegance…” I started when a sudden burst of the door interrupted. I stared in shock when a girl donned in jewels, a dress both of cultural and royal meaning and a crown donned on her head. Instantly, I recognized the attire was obviously not of this part of China. The girl continued to amaze me as she threw a bag of gold right on table in front of her. “I need escorts to help me reach Gospel’s headquarters! I will be willing to play a hefty reward as you can see here.” She boomed in her royal voice as she pointed at the bags of gold. The men in the bar looked at the girl and back to the gold. “Where are you from, little girl?” A man grinned. “I am Princess Sophie of Zhuhai.” She replied confidently. My heart sank. Zhuhai wasn’t part of Gospel as they were able conserve fresh water for themselves which meant… “Good…” The man said evilly. “I’m guessing the royal guards won’t be protecting this one, boys.” I gestured the boy to pass me the bottle. He gave it nervously. “My sister isn’t going to like this.” He murmured. One by one they all stood up to steal whatever she had on her. I picked up the bottle next to me and threw it at the wall purposely missing the man closest to her by an inch. I ducked immediately and the boy at the bar immediately pointed towards where I was, which in reality pointed at another man. And so, an ensemble of fists rained in perfect unison as I, Howl Xiang had conducted and orchestrated a forte of mass chaos or in commoner’s tongue, a bar fight. I made haste to get the girl out of harm’s way. Who knows she may pay me for being her gallant knight in shining armor. “Thank you for saving me.” She thanked as we scurried out of the bodily mass of the men of the bar. I kicked a table over to act as our cover against the clamor. “Would you mind telling me why would a princess of Zhuhai be all the way east in merry old Hong Kong?” I asked. “You don’t really look like the type to wonder in dangerous parts.” “Like I said I need someone to escort me to Gospel’s headquarters.” She explained. A chair flew over us and crashed just a few centimeters away. “But I’m going to have to find the Solar Stand first for this,” She continued as she grabbed a glowing orb of crimson. It seemed to glow and it had this warm aura to it as if a little flame was ignited. “What is that?” I asked while my eyes mesmerized by the bright orb. “That is called Solar Orb which needs to sit upon the Solar Stand. Solar Stand located here in this bar. 20 meters below ground,” A squeaky voice suddenly squeaked. It sounded like nothing human but almost mechanical. “Okay, either the green tea had some alcohol in it or I must have been beaten up really hard to give me hallucinations.” I said as I scratched my head. The girl presented me with a doll that looks like a bunny. “This is Crow.” She smiled. Now, that I looked at it more carefully it was an animatronic. It had a shape of a bunny doll but the frame was too big for any ordinary doll. I was the size of my arm’s length and a few gears were protruding from it. The mouth seemed capable to move hence the hinges.

Fiction: Group 4

“It’s a standard Component Reactive Overture Wirer, isn’t it? Made in the 2050s, stopped its production after 20 years due to its incompatibility with the basic upgrade modules” I observed. Sophie blinked not comprehending what I had just said. “Anyways, this orb has the power to produce fresh and clean water.” Sophie said. I raised an eyebrow. Not fully convinced with what this princess had said. “We have no time for more conversation. We must make haste for the stand, Princess Sophie.” The bunny stood up and warned. “We still need to find someone who can help us in this quest.” “I can help out with this endeavor, Princess Sophie.” I offered. “And I don’t mind helping myself with your gold too,” I thought. “Oh, you have my deepest gratitude. It’s for the sake of my city and to not fall in to Gospel’s monopoly.” She said. “I never got your name by the way.” “Howl, Howl Xiang at your service,” I introduced All of a sudden, a loud bang echoed through the bar, louder than all the chaos. Followed by the bar doors flying towards the ceilings. The whole bar went silent. “Who the hell, did this to my BAR??!!!!” A lady screamed with rage. I poked my head out of the table but the men that were fighting were too big to see the commotion. “Lin, we can explain--,” a man tried to say but was flown a few feet into the air. “I m going to count to 3, and if the person who caused all this doesn’t come out, this bar is going to blow up to kingdom come.” Lin ordered. “One…” she counted as I heard a cork was popped. “Remember the last time she set this place on fire,” I heard one of the men say nervously. “Two…” she continued as I heard a match lit. All the bar men began taking cover with tables not taking a chance to escape from the door in fearing that they’ll get pummeled by the aggravated Lin. “Oh God, she was about to set the whole place in flames.” I realized. “Three—“ “WAIT” I shouted. I raised both my arms up in surrender. “I started it,” I admitted. “Me too,” Sophie said which surprised me. Lin smiled as she blew out the match and placed the cork back to the alcohol. “YOU TWO, STAY! Everyone else, get the hell out of my bar.” Lin screamed. “I see we have a couple of royalties in my bar.” She said sweetly. I was about to say something to soothe her temper but in a flash I was carried off the ground with my back against the wall. Lin was carrying both me and the princess with each of us in one her hands by the collar. “Now, tell me royals. How are you going to pay off all the damages you’ve caused to my bar?” She asked in a deadly tone. “We’ll pay it off with the gold over…” I started as I saw all the gold was stolen by the men who were here a moment ago. “Over where?” She asked. I looked nervously at the princess. “I believe we can have a compromise here,” Crow advised. “An animatronics’?” Lin was caught off by surprised. The rabbit signaled to bring us down. “Once both the orbs had been placed successfully. Legend has it the power of the moon on the eclipsed night which is tomorrow night, will be able to cleanse the water of all impurities and give all of China fresh water for all.” Crow explained. “And how can this help me, doll?” Lin asked inconspicuously. “Well, as saviors’ of China if we successfully do place the orbs. We would probably be thanked by the people of China and be rewarded for our assistance.” Crow explained. At that exact moment, I swear I could see Lin had dollar signs in her eyes. “But this is just a legend, isn’t’ it? What if it doesn’t work?” Lin asked. “Its our only way to pay you back for all these damages so what have you got to lose?” I challenged.

Fiction: Group 4

“Apart from my precious time and leaving my bar in charge of my little brother, I guess having a little vacation once in a while wouldn’t be bad. By vacation, I mean watching over both of you “Royals, to prevent you from running away from paying off my debt.” Lin said. “Okay, first things first, let’s place the solar orb upon the solar stand first. I assume you have a wine cellar here?” Princess Sophie assumed. Lin nodded and led us down to her wine cellar. It was barely lit and cobwebs were hanging from the wall. But a stand wasn’t in sight anywhere. “Where is it, Crow?” Sophie asked. Crow jumped off the arms of Princess Sophie and walked around the wine cellar for a while and located a hidden lever which revealed a stand made of ruby and gold engravings. A ring stood on top of the stand waiting purposely for something to hold. “I didn’t know we had a secret room,” Lin admitted. We walked towards the marvel slowly mesmerized by it. Princess Sophie took out the solar orb from her bag and placed it on top of the ring. A beam of red and crimson light emitted from the orb towards the sky. At that exact same moment, The Lunar stand glowed black as a starless night. Varric, representative of Gospel in China yawned as he stretched his legs. “Finally, some entertainment. ROYAL GAURDS!” Varric bellowed. And at his word, screens showing men in white battle armor saluting. “Bring me the people who had the decency to try to ruin this empire. This is their coordinates. Fools, don’t even know that their animatronic has been chipped.” Varric smiled. “Sir, yes, Sir” they saluted. Just as we were about to set foot out for Gospel, literally the first foot that went out of the bar, we were bagged with sacks, knocked out and thrown indiscriminately into a car. The car began hovering off the ground and flew. Beams of light shone on my face. I woke up to the smell of rotting flesh. “God, what’s that smell?’ I complained. “You’ll get used to it. Nothing much else to this cell, other than the occasional guest such as yourself.” A deep voice answered. I squinted my eyes to get a good look of this place as this cell wasn’t really lit well. A skeleton waved as if to say hello. “Oh, just a skeleton,” I thought in relief. Suddenly I jumped, causing my head to meet its mark on this cell’s ceiling. “OUCH” I squealed in pain. “Yea, they always do jump up in fear, bummer.” The skeleton figure said sadly. “What? Who? Where? Just…how?” I tried to ask the right question but they were all just fumbled up. “I am a person with feelings just like anyone. Name’s Calcifer and currently we’re in a prison cell underneath the headquarters of Gospel. Honestly, I’m guessing it’s due to the heavily polluted Pearl River Delta that made me this way. Water from that poisoned channel made me this way, probably.” Calcifer answered. “But I don’t want to be a skeleton.” I gasped. “Oh, quit your yapping, Howl!” Lin’s voice shouted. “Trying to think of a way to get out of here.” “But there’s a skeleton that wants to kill me,” I complained. “Just calm down, and give us a hand. Calcifer isn’t as bad as he looks.” Sophie suggested. The skeleton took of his hand and proffered me to hand it to Sophie. “Pass it to the girl.” Clacifer asked. “The keys to the cells are just above the young girl’s cell.” I reluctantly took his hand and just barely gave it to Princess Sophie. She was able to get the keys and unlocked everyone out. Now, we’ll be able to escape. “The leader of Gospel must have the Lunar Orb.” Princess Sophie said. Calcifer shook his head as he procured an orb of Black. It had the cool night air emitting from it. “I have it. I tried to place it on the lunar stand but I was captured and was probably completely forgotten.” He explained as he put his hand back in to place.

Fiction: Group 4

The Factory St. Margaret's Co-Educational English Secondary and Primary School

(Secondary Section), Lam, Doris - 17, Fiction: Group 4

watched the water do mini cartwheels, as if each and every little movement it did was a show of art. It danced around me, in front of me, behind me. My mind drifted in and out of darkness, hearing only the whispers the water murmured to itself and the sound of nighttime with the overlooking moon.

The moon seemed to peer at us, wondering what the two of us were doing here so late at night. But it had always been like this for the last few weeks. The moon shone loudly yet dully, as if bored with our presence and wishing to see anything but us. The moon mocked the night sky for its shyness, and illuminated with a blinding grin of evil after absorbing the sky’s uncertainty. I blinked. And that was all the time the sky needed to gain back the power the moon had taken. The night sky roared and the stars twinkled like silver sparkles mixed with joyful laughter of a child’s, excited for the fight between the two brothers of the night. Perhaps all of this was in my head, but the fight seemed to have hushed the world and frozen the water. Perhaps all of this was in my head, but the water seemed to have frozen in fear and the cartwheels froze the air. Perhaps all of this was in my head, but the sky roared, sending shaky white lines down to the ground, silencing the moon from its wicked wishes and silencing my father from all his dreams. My father fell into a coma soon after that. The doctors told us that all hope was lost and that we shouldn’t expect him to wake up soon. He didn’t respond to us when mom was shaking him or when aunt was yelling for him to wake up. Maybe he won't ever wake up. My father named me Yuan Wang, which means “wish” in Chinese. He had a lot of dreams in life, and I was his biggest wish. Why else would he name me Yuan Wang? His second biggest wish was to travel the entire Pearl River Delta. I didn’t want to since it’s such a big area, so we settled to travel through the Pearl River instead. I did not blame my father for wanting to travel through Pearl River or myself for not jumping up to save him. Blaming could not solve anything and I much rather fulfill my father’s last wish and fulfill his legacy. After bringing father back home, I immediately went back to where father and I were. I refused to grieve. It was nighttime again, and I looked up to see the moon glowing dully at me, as if ashamed of itself. I looked at the sky as it darkened as if acknowledging the wrong that they had done. I looked at the wooden boat I sat in and the empty spot next to me that was once my father’s. I looked at the water and they seemed to be doing a sorrowful ballet dance instead of the energizing cartwheels. It was as if nature was grieving for the accident they have made and grieving for my part as well. The sky sighed, and droplets of water fell in a comforting pace, the sky wept for forgiveness. But I still refused to grieve. Instead, I closed my eyes and hoped that the rain would wash the memory away. When I opened my eyes again, the sun’s fury gaze was burning my skin. I began to paddle forward and imagined myself reaching the end to the Pearl River by nighttime. I saw something on the corner of my eye and before I could even look at it closely, it jumped towards me, arms outreached, clawing for the flesh of my neck. Terrified, my body reacted before I could even think. I decided to jump into the water. Warm water welcomed me and slowly soaked into my clothes, dragging me down. I struggled to keep my face above the water. The devil seeped down my throat and choked me violently. It was as if it took over my body and stopped it from fighting, accepting its fate to sink deep down into the water. The sun sparkled with joy and the sky was the same blue as the colored papers we used to use for crafts during art class at school. I stared at the beauty of the Earth above me, and I watched it become lighter and lighter in color, slowly being replaced by little black dots appearing right in front of my eyes.

*** It seemed like so much happened when I closed my eyes, but when I did open them again, I found myself aching all over my body, as if went to a deep tissue body massage the day before. As my senses slowly started coming back to me, I realized I was on a bottom bunk bed with rotting metal headboard above me. I was surprised to find my clothes dry and wondered how long had I been in that place. I sat up and examined my surroundings closely, and saw that metal bars were installed behind the windows. The room walls in the room seemed to come closer and closer towards me as the seconds tick by, its original

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Fiction: Group 4

green paint was peeling off and tinted with a bit of yellow. The cheap wooden door looked beaten up, the only thing that looked new in the room were the bars on the window and the large shiny lock on the door. I walked towards the door and tried opening it, but it wouldn’t budge at all. Suddenly, I remembered the technique that my father had taught me long ago when I was a child. He did something like a twist and a pull and a little twirl on the lock. And I unlocked it! I peeked out and saw a long cement corridor, the same color as the floor inside. I walked tiptoed out the room and prayed to every God there was to protect me. Suddenly, I felt a strong grip on my shoulder. Without thinking twice, I swung my fist so hard that I was sure I could have broken a wall and made my father proud. But my happiness was short lived because my fist didn’t hit anyone at all. Instead, I found my fist being caught by a tall, large man whose head shone from the flickering lights above us. He was dressed in a green uniform with a familiar logo stapled on the front pocket of his shirt. “Follow me,” he grunted. As he led me down the corridor with his hand around my wrist, we passed by an elevator. Although I didn’t know where that elevator could have led me, a flicker of hope was lit inside me once again. The man must have noticed because he yanked me harder and led me to the most polished door at the end of the corridor. There, he stopped, straightened his shirt and stood up straighter. He looked down at me without expression, and I immediately started fixing my clothes as well without knowing why. I gulped, fearing of what lies behind the closed door. He opened the door and a rush of cool air hit my face. The room was furnished in a Western style but the man who sat behind the beautifully crafted wooden table was indeed a Chinese man. He was smiling warmly yet I had a strange feeling being in the same room as he. He raised his eyebrow and without a word, he motioned me to sit on the cushioned pale chairs in front of him. We kept eye contact for a good few minutes when my curiosity was screaming to be answered. But instead, I asked, “Do you have any food?” The man laughed loudly, and then answered in his deep, throaty voice, “Of course!” He then motioned the man who brought me here and within a minute, I was greeted with a plate of mouthwatering food. I dug in. The felt the two men staring at me while I ate. Suddenly, the man behind the table spoke. “I’m Mr. K… and you’re in our debt now.” My head shot up from the plate of goodies, “Is it because of the food? I could pay you back-“He shook his head and said, “No, you cannot pay us back with your money. It does not have any meaning to us.” I stared at him, not comprehending what he just said. He continued, “You must stay here and work as a worker to pay back the debt. After all, we did save you from drowning and we just gave you a full meal.” I stared back at the plate of food and suddenly it wasn’t as appetizing as it as anymore. Not distracted by my hunger anymore, it was only then when I realized all the food on the plate were dim sum. “Where am I?” I asked Mr. K. “Guangzhou,” he replied, all niceness seemed to have wiped off of face. He looked behind me and said, “Ray, would you please show this gentleman to our factory now?” The strong arms once again held my wrist and dragged me up from my seat in response. I had heard about these factories. They took in homeless and lost people. I knew that by trying to fight, I would probably be beaten up and left for dead. If I kept my head down I could maybe find a way out before the end of the week. He walked fast, pulling me behind and took me to the elevator that I was staring at not long ago. Soon, we were whisked into a large, gray area, with many people in the same green uniform standing side by side doing the same action over and over again. “What-“ but my question was not even heard and the same green uniform was thrown into my hands. And Ray left. I changed into the uniform and stepped into the line of workers who seemed to be putting two parts of a phone together before they threw it into the machine again. As I stepped into the line, no one even bothered looking up to see what was going on. That night, I was put into the same room and bed as I woke up at. But this time, the other three beds were not empty. “Hey!” I tried greeting the guy on the bunk above me. “Stop bothering me, I have a long day of work ahead of me tomorrow- and so do you, so you better go to sleep now.” Defeated, I saw that the other two roommates had gotten into bed already. “Alright…” I trailed off, not noticing that the guy was still talking “…like the guy before you,” I frowned in confusion, “Sorry? What did you say?” In the darkness, the voice above me sighed and said, “ I said, you wouldn’t want to be like the guy before you.” Right after that, the guy started snoring before I could even ask more. And life continued like that for several weeks. There was no escape, and no matter what objections I made, I was ignored. Over time, I made friends with the three men in my room, ShuiYi, XiaoPi and LiRen. But one day, ShuiYi, my bunk mate wouldn’t leave his bed in the morning. In the afternoon, he was sent to the

Fiction: Group 4

emergency room. At night, his bed was taken over by another man. But at that point, I was too tired from the daily labor work that I had to do and barely gave it a second thought before I fell asleep. In my dream, I dreamed of ShuiYi. “Why are you here?” I asked him. I heard his voice all around me, “I’m gone now. My body was too exhausted to continue. Please leave the factory soon, Yuan Wang, I don’t want you to end up like me and the many ones before me. Go when you’re released from your debt.” I woke up after that, my thin shirt clung onto my skin from the sweat. I looked out from the caged window and felt like a prisoner. The moon was shining with mischief but dimmed as it saw me staring. Who could help me? Help us? The moon studied me and a majestic voice suddenly surrounded me. “I could help you. I owe you.” I looked around but found no one. I peered at the moon and felt goose bumps on my skin “Yes, I am the moon. And I can help you. You’re released from your debt tomorrow, but you must continue your journey.” I blinked in disbelief, “How do I do that?” I asked. “Remember your father’s dream to travel through the Pearl River? All you have to do is travel through it. When your journey is complete, your father will be healed.” I nodded, “Is it that simple? Are you sure?” But no one replied. I woke up the next day wondering if I had dreamt of everything. But I was free. As I walked out and turned back, I finally saw what the factory looked like from the outside. It was as white as the clouds on sunny day, striped with a rich golden caramel color. It radiated joy and fun… if only people knew. I bought a sturdy little ship and headed to the Guangzhou Bridge, this time, I was confident and determined. To stop the increasing number of factories appearing in Guangzhou, I must finish my father’s dream. I set off, not knowing what would lie ahead of me, only hoping that I could go back home and go for Chinese tea with my family. I lost track of time, but what seemed like weeks passed in a blink of an eye. I had passed through so many bridges such as the Haizhu Bridge, Huanan Bridge and Renmin Bridge… I stopped counting after the fifth of sixth. But what I did notice was that every time when I passed through the bridge, a little dance of some sort seemed to dance within me, warming me all over. It may have been days, weeks, months or even years when I heard the grumpy moon speak again. “You’re almost there, Yuan Wang, you’re almost there.” I passed through the last bridge the nighttime after that, and I felt my soul swarm with a heartwarming sensation that made me chuckle with joy. Suddenly, my phone rang. “Hello?” I said. Mom’s sharp Eagle voice greeted me from the other side. “Yuan Wang! Where have you been? Father has woken up from his long slumber just now and he wouldn’t stop smiling! He asked to see you and told me say ‘well done’ to you. Do you think he’s gone nuts after being asleep for so long?” I quietly smiled and looked up, ignoring mom’s loud chatter. “Thank you.” I whispered towards the dark sky. And maybe it was only my imagination, but I swear for a split second I saw millions of diamonds twinkle back at me before the dark cloak hid them once again, as if nothing had happened.

Fiction: Group 4

His Memories, My Present St. Margaret's Co-Educational English Secondary and Primary School

(Secondary Section), Lam, Mimi - 17, Fiction: Group 4

will never forget those days. It was like the memory itself became scorching hot metal that burned in my mind, leaving a mark that can never be erased.

The days I shared my body with a ghost. I still remember how he and I met. It was a trip to Shen Zhen 60 years ago. I was 25, a freelance photographer and it was not my first trip to Shen Zhen, but it was my first trip there for my job. I was going there to take pictures of whatever view that inspired me. I love photography. There I met him, all in his translucent grace, staring at a specific spot on the ground with sorrowful eyes. In such a busy place his stillness stood out from everyone’s fast paced life. I was going to snap a picture of that beautiful stillness in this city but I realized I couldn’t see him through the camera lens. I looked up from the camera screen and found him standing on the exactly same spot, with no sign of movement. It was like…he’s a ghost. As if he could hear my thoughts with a loud speaker, he turned his head towards me. His dark hair and those dark eyes that had no end to them, it portrayed the infinite sadness he was feeling. When our eyes met, it was like we were attracted to each other and he was somehow sucked into my body and we’ve been sharing my body ever since. Now this is not an unusual occurrence for me. I have always been vulnerable to ghosts or any non-corporeal beings. I could see ghosts and spirits can easily possess my body, with or without my consent. Most days I would land myself into the hospital or police station, where I would have no idea what happened during the period where I was possessed. The supernatural being would just use my body as a vector to do what they want, and I would have no memories of what happened. This is definitely different, most times I would be possessed fully, and this time I am sharing my body, where I have perfect control of my body and my mind is conscious of what is happening. Whether I would forget these memories when Hak leaves my body, I don’t know, but I’ll worry about that when the time comes. Hak was a smuggler who traveled around China along the Pearl River Delta. For what reason? That, I’d like to know too, but Hak kind of lost most of his memories when he died by stepping onto a landmine over half a century ago which caused his immediate death, right where I found him staring at. ‘Sei’, his deep voice rang out in my mind. “What? Did you remember something again?” I responded. ‘Hm. More about her.’ I nodded to myself. Hak had a lover back when he was still alive, he promised her they would be back but he died halfway through his journey back where he lived. I’m pretty sure that she’s either dead or she has forgotten about him. Hak died when he was 25, same age as myself now, but she would be around 80 or 90 now, it would be lucky if she’s still alive and healthy. ‘I remember how we used to stroll around the port near our houses, I think we were childhood friends who grew up together… We would always wonder what treasures would the merchants find when they leave

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Fiction: Group 4

home for business.’ Hak said with a hint of nostalgia in his voice. I could tell that he really missed her when he said that. For a few times, he had spoken about his past with a nostalgic voice, and a faint hint of pain. So I decided. I am going to help Hak find this girl, just so he would get out of my body. I took some time off to travel along the Pearl River Delta, in hope to help Hak regain the memories that he had lost, maybe he could remember something by looking at a view that was familiar to him. ‘Sei. You don’t have to do this for me. I may remember, just not immediately, it’ll definitely take time.’ Hak said when I told him my decision of helping him. Even though he said that, I know deep inside, Hak really wanted to see her. So in return, I told him a little white lie, “Don’t worry. Helping you regain your memories is just something that we’re going to do along the way. I’m travelling just so I could take pictures for my portfolio, to make it look better when I’m looking for a job.” ‘It’s also because I want you out of my body.’ I added silently. It’s not really a lie, but it’s not entirely true either. ‘Fine, if you say so.’ Hak responded simply after hearing my reasoning. I decided to travel via ships along the Pearl River Delta, as Hak said he used to walk around the port with his lover, maybe he would remember where it was when we pass by that area. Our first stop was ShenZhen, to where I found Hak. I stood on the spot where I found Hak standing on. ‘Sei…I think, I remember…’ Without finishing the line, I slowly got sucked in Hak’s memory. “Be Careful!”, somebody yelled, “There are a lot of landmines here, one wrong step and you’ll-” The voice continued to warn, but it was too late. A huge orange flame had erupted from the place Hak had stepped on. An explosion. Just as Hak said. He died stepping on a landmine. I watched from the side as Hak muttered something just before he stopped breathing. “I’m…sorry..J-” The memories surged out of my mind as fast as it came, and it the process, it gave me a massive headache, as if I could feel what Hak had felt, but maybe 100 times less, as I would’ve died, if I had felt what he had felt when he stepped on the landmine. But what interested me was what Hak couldn’t finish saying, ‘J-’, a name? Maybe. Second destination was GuangZhou. However, unlike the first destination, ShenZhen, Hak couldn’t feel anything. He didn’t react to anything at all. Maybe it’s because GuangZhou has changed so much he could recognize it at all. So, we kept on travelling. We have travelled to most places that was connected by the Pearl River Delta, Hak is starting to lose hope in searching for his lover. ‘Sei…Maybe, we should just give up… Maybe the place in my memories doesn’t exist anymore.’ His voice was filled with loneliness. “Hak.” I said sternly. “We are not giving up, plus it’s a bonus for me. I get to see the beauty of China.” A knowledgeable silence filled the air as we continued to travel. Halfway through the trip, getting closer to our final destination, Zhuhai. Hak had started to react. Along with him, as if I could feel the pain of memories surging into his mind, my head had started to hurt as well. … “Hak!” A girl aged around 18 with shoulder length onyx hair that fluttered as she walked ran towards a 20 year old Hak. “Look! The ships are back! I wonder what they brought back this time.” Her big smile has influenced Hak to chuckle along with her, “We should go check it out shouldn’t we, Jun?” The younger girl nodded enthusiastically as the ran towards the crowded port filled with ships and crates of all sizes.

Fiction: Group 4

… ‘Jun…Her name was Jun. JUN.’ Hak’s voice grew louder as he expressed his new discovery, His voice was full of gentleness and longing as he repeated her name all over and over again. ‘Jun…Jun…Jun…’ I chucked as he continued to repeat her name. “Jun…”, like Hak, I let her name roll of my tongue, it indeed is a simple yet beautiful name. Jun, meaning of pure… When we reached the Zhuhai Port, I could feel a buzz flowing in my mind. ‘It’s the same…’I heard Hak say before my conscious drifted down the memory lane of Hak. … My mind flashed as the memories flashed from one to another, it was like watching a movie with all the scene changes. In the port, ships parked around the surrounding area. Families, friends and lovers of smugglers had all gathered around the port. Tears, bitter smiles, encouragements, farewells are heard all over in the crowd. “Hak…Stay safe…okay? Choosing this path has it perks but it’s also very dangerous. I’m…sure, that we’ll meet again one day…”Jun said to Hak when he’s queuing up to get onto the boat. Her eyes were shining, clear salty droplets tempted to fall out of where she was holding it back in, she held most in, but one stray pearl rolled off as she smiled bitterly at Hak. Her eyes were telling him not to go, but her voice is saying the exactly opposite. Hak turned his strong, broad back towards her as he stepped ahead, nodding and sadly smiling to himself, clouds of tears raining from his eyes. He didn’t dare to look back on Jun’s face. He didn’t. Another flash of bright light and I was pushed out of Hak’s memories. I wiped the tears from my eyes as I got of the ship of memories. The port mirrored the one from Hak’s memories. Though I could not experience what Hak felt in his memories, the place was more than what I had expected. Right next to the port was a wet market bustling with life, children and adults of all ages scrambling around, loud cheery slogans repeated every few seconds, occasional screeches of wild cat fights… The breeze from the sea slowly brushed against my face, as if it was a mother caressing her long lost child’s cheeks. The gentleness of the wind not only bought me the feeling of home, it brought the refreshing scent of the salty seas, that made me want to dive in and let the waves embrace me with it’s warmth. ‘It’s…here.’ I could hear Hak whispering into my mind, his happiness of finding his hometown, and the sadness of not knowing whether Jun is alive or not, is surging right up my mind. I could feel his emotions affecting me directly as my eyes became watery, I tried to look up to prevent the tears from falling, but it didn’t work. Fat droplets rolled down my cheeks as Hak silently cried. I wiped my tears and started searching for anyone that might know Jun. I asked around the market to see if anyone knew Jun, and almost immediately a woman of around her early 40s grabbed me by the arm, wearing a simple brownish purple set of clothes, that didn’t look new but carefully handled. Her dark long hair was in an old fashioned braid that sat gracefully on top of her left shoulder, she looked like the typical Chinese women seen in the TV dramas. “What do you want with my mother?” The lady asked curiously. “Your mother?” I asked back in shock. “Yes, my mother. There’s no other Jun around in this town. So why are you looking for her?” She replied with no hesitation. “Uhhh…I’m not sure how should I tell you this, but I know someone who wants to meet her desperately.” I tried to explain.

Fiction: Group 4

The woman poised her chin on the back of the palm, mimicking ‘The Thinker’s’ pose, when suddenly her eyes flashed with a hint of nostalgia, as if she remembered something from the past…a story that her mother might’ve told her. “Come with me.” She said a minute later and takes us to a medium sized brick house, the traditional ones that have a small courtyard in the front garden. I followed her to a series of corridors when we finally reached a door that had simple white paper over the fragile and fancy carvings of the door. I felt like I was in a movie set, everything seemed so surreal, I felt like I had travelled back to the past. “Mother?” The lady rapped on the wooden parts of the door gently, as if she was afraid that if she knocked any hard the door would have fallen due to old age. Instead of replying, soft sighs of peaceful breathing could be heard from the paper thin door. So the lady opened the door silently to let us in. The view of an old woman sleeping on a wooden bed. Silver hair, that seemed almost white had scattered all on her pillow around her head, like a halo hovering. She looked like an angel that had been sleeping for ages. Her face smooth with hints of wrinkles, especially around her eyes, she must have smiled a lot. As I paced towards her bed, and closer to her, her eyes opened slowly, just like sleeping beauty finally awake after a hundred year sleep. Her eyes were misty and glazed, but when she turned her head towards me, her eyes widened and clear colored tears rolled down her pale cheeks. Just like the old woman, the moment she opened her eyes, tears started spilling from my eyes. Maybe it was me crying, maybe it was Hak crying. I don’t know, but all I know is that I could feel the longing and the pain that Hak had locked inside his heart, the feelings for her had leaked out from my eyes and when it came in contact with the air, the emotion had liquefied into tears and conveyed the sensation of what Hak had felt when he died, full of regrets. The old woman, incredibly graceful for her age, had reached out from her bed with her soft yet wrinkled hands and slowly wiped my tear stained cheeks. She smiled softly at us as she said “Welcome back, Hak. I knew you’d be back, because…you promised you’d be back.” Her voice was hoarse, as if she hadn’t spoke for days and it was her first time speaking in days, but within that hoarse voice, we could feel the warmth and the love she had for Hak. With my voice, Hak said “I’m back, Jun. Sorry I’m so late. I missed you so much.” Our voice husky from the tears and my sobbing. Their touching reunion was filled with warmth that filled my heart to the brim with their love. Jun smiled painfully as her eyes started to tear up as she said “I’m nearing my end, I…Let’s go to..together?” Her voice was getting more and more breathless as her hand is starting to slip from my face, her warmth slowly leaving her as she smiled one last time before saying “Thank…you, Sei. For…for bringing…H-Hak to me…” With her last breath, she choked out her last words and her body started to grow colder. I grabbed her hands immediately, in hope to call her back. I squeezed her chilly hand tightly, but it didn’t grasp back. I cried in to her hands as I felt my body grow light and my vision dimming. … “Sei.” A familiar voice called out, “Sei.” “Wh-what…let me sleep.” I said groggily, but opened my eyes unwillingly anyways. A white room. Blank with just infinite whiteness. Standing in front of me was Hak. “Hak? But you… aren’t you in my body?” I stuttered out in shock. Then I heard a giggle. Besides Hak was a girl, around 22, who looked exactly like the girl in Hak’s memories. Their hands where locked into a tight grasp.

Fiction: Group 4

“Jun? But…Didn’t you die?”I questioned again as Hak spoke out “Sei, thanks to you, I have finally returned to Jun. And now I have no more regrets.” I stared at the lovers blankly, “Are you leaving me…now?” Hak chuckled as he looked at his shoes, when he gazed back up he simply said “Yes.” I smiled, I guess I helped them out. “Well then… I guess it’s good bye. You’re probably going onto another journey again.” The two smiled at me gratefully as they turned their back towards me. Hand in hand, they started to fade to the never ending blankness of the white room. I felt myself slowly regaining my consciousness as I heard the last words of Hak. “Thank you, I can never thank you enough…” I woke up to someone shaking my body, “sei…Sei…Sei! SEI!” I opened my eyes and the familiar scenery of Jun’s room flew into my room. I was still holding Jun’s hand, with tears in my eyes. I smiled staring at her body, while thinking of the two’s long waited reunion. I let go of her hand as I slowly left the room. Time to continue the photo taking. … It has been 60 years since then, I’ve married a wonderful woman I fell in love at first sight at and I have grandchildren now. Thanks to my job, I’ve been to lots of places, beautiful cities like Paris, London, Dubai… But nothing beats the first trip, the short trip to Shen Zhen and the adventure that led me to see the beauty of China through The Pearl River Delta. The moment Hak had left my body, I could never see anything strange, but photography never looked any better, everything was peaceful. I had the adventure of my life already. Here I am, on my bed…as my life flashes through my eyes… The world is getting dimmer… But I could still hear the sobbing of my children as they sob next to my bed. My love has gone, but I’m going to meet her soon, along with my old friends. I breathed out my last breath as I heard the warm and familiar voice of Hak calling out to me… “Welcome, Sei.” Another adventure awaits me as I stepped into the white room of infinite, slowly fading into the pureness.

Fiction: Group 4

The Teahouse by the River St. Margaret's Co-Educational English Secondary and Primary School

(Secondary Section), Temang, Tenshi - 17, Fiction: Group 4

he smell of sun dried fish, shells and wet moss engulfed me as I exited my cabin. The scene was akin to the Chinese painting my husband had brought back from his first visit. I believe it was from the neighbouring island of Hong Kong. He spoke quite fondly of that place although I never quite

understood why. I made my way down the stairs of the ship, successfully getting shoved twice and nearly tripping over a toddler. Cruises were are joy and I’ve always loved the ocean but the gruelling hours on-board with one too many people was something else. The crowd gradually began to thin out and now you couldn’t tell the passengers from the locals except for their clothing choice of course, or more specifically their shoes. “Pretty lady!” I turned towards the speaker, unsure whether he was talking to me or not. The people around here tend to do that quite often, yet surprisingly they seem to know just when they are being called. Instinctively realizing when “Pretty lady” was being directed at them or to the other “Pretty lady” in that vicinity. Realizing my attention was on him, he quickly swiped out a card from his breast pocket and thrust it into my hand. “Owner of the Blue Jade Teahouse, the finest service and food you can find in the Pearl River Delta, complete with resting room and bath house.” Gesturing to a grand-looking three-story building. “Please follow me, madam. Your husband tell me a lot about your lives in England. I say, your tea drinking tradition is most wonderful, just like what w…” The rest of it was drowned out by the bustling of the noise of the people bargaining for fish and the goods from England that had been shipped here a week before. Sadly from the reports, a number of the glass goods had been damaged. I frowned, I’ll have to talk to David about it. I caught a glimpse of some silk carpets and I made a note of them. Third stall from the rickshaw circle. Hopefully, they have patterns that included dragons. After all, I was born in the year of the dragon (1940, 1952, 1964, 1976,) according to the Chinese calendar. I guess those mythological aspects of the Chinese culture were somewhat interesting and entertaining. At least a bit more so than stories about haunted Victorian dolls and rundown churches and demons. Never liked spooky tales that relate to the darker side of religion. Didn’t sit quite well with me, especially not when you actually have faith. I fanned myself, becoming more conscious of the humidity that made my dress stick closer to my body and my coiffure go limp. I sighed. Why did I even bother? The man turned back. “And you madam?” his accent made the question seem more like a statement and dear lord, I hadn’t been listening at all. “Which tea do you like?” he continued. I smiled in relief. Don’t want to seem rude now do we? “I quite like Darjeeling” Not wanting to stall any longer. “But I also like the blooming tea, its beautiful both in taste and appearance. But I never did grasp how those dried balls of magic were made. Perhaps you could enlighten me?” He takes a moment to process what I had asked him a slowly smiles a secretive smile. “That, madam, is a Yunnan speciality and they have a special way of sewing the tealeaves and flowers.” “That’s interesting.” Even though the answer was vague and uninformative. We stopped at the front stairs of the teahouse. It looked grander and bigger than from afar. The vivid red pillars supporting the balcony above was elegantly symmetrical along with the latticework that filtered anything that could’ve been seen had it been a normal window. Little rays of light escaped through the carvings. Looking closer, I began to see the low tables and the customers and workers mingling about. “Welcome to my humble teahouse, madam” I could hear his pride as two girls clad in a ‘Cheongsam’ embroidered with flowers of green, gold and red, held the door open for us, bowing and eyes averted ever so slightly. They didn’t see the smile I tried to direct at them. Well then. The gateway like doors were open wide, yet its size seemed small when compared to the interior it lead to. Most tables were taken, predominantly by traders, travellers and foreigners like myself, few were taken by families or couples and one only one table would be occupied by a sole diner. Yes, unfortunately, that sole diner would be me. My zealous host left with my luggage to prepare my room as soon as he sat me down at a table that was meant to accommodate single customers. There was a single flower at the small table’s

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Fiction: Group 4

centre, to keep me company perhaps. I cringed at my lonesome thoughts. Maybe it’s the fatigue finally setting in. “Pretty lady?” I looked up and I saw a petite waitress dressed in traditional grabs that was more layered and well-endowed than that of the girls at the door, holding a teapot with an impossibly long spout at one hand and a fancy towel draped over her right forearm. Her eyes were thickly lined with a dark shade of brown and her lips painted bright red. I couldn’t judge her age properly behind the make up yet I had a feeling she was far too young to be working here. She twirled the pot around her sleek frame twice and over her shoulder tilting it over the table, poring the brew into my china. I noticed faint marks under her sleeves as she stretched forward and then back, only exposing it for a second. But I saw it, marks too old to be recent but new enough to not have faded back. I thanked her and quickly drank the tea, willing her to pour some more. She looked surprised, probably because the tea was hot enough to burn a bit but complied just as quickly. I saw them again. I then proceeded to repeat the process again till the pot was empty. Poor girl looked quite flustered due to her confusion and her little teapot tricks but looked more pleased. I smiled and asked her to lead me to the restroom which only succeeded in making her even more confused. “Che shuoo?” My sorry attempt at making her understand. Her face slowly brightened with realization and she nodded vigorously, turning so that she could lead me. We slipped into the back of the room and we crossed the empty courtyard. The mini trees were more than exotic but sadly weren’t natural and had to be trimmed quite often. The smell of incense grew stronger as we reached the rear corridor. The multiple doors along it were shut tight. The only light coming from the filtered light that entered for the window at the end of the corridor. The petit girl shuffled forward and I followed her to the end of the corridor and into our destination. We returned to my table and she disappeared back into the courtyard much to my discomfort. Now I had to wait alone for my husband who’s always busy running around with clients. I learnt long ago to never expect him early so I waited. But I was pleased that I was wrong and that I didn’t have to wait entirely alone. -- “Sandra!” I looked up from my tea and I tried to refrain myself from looking too upset. “David. It’s nice of you to finally drop by.” I looked around the teahouse. There were just as many customers as there were when I had arrived earlier yet the faces had changed and the lanterns were lit. The atmosphere had gradually shifted into something akin to that of a pub back home, stuffier and a bit dimmer. I sighed. “Just sit down.” He did so without complaint, as if to avoid further dispute that may occur between a husband and wife should the husband make a wrong move. With the soft glow of the lanterns hitting his face at the right angles, he was oddly charismatic as he tried to apologize and I forgave him before he even uttered the words. He suddenly looked as if he had an epiphany and excused himself to the restroom. Seeing the young waitress form earlier, I called out to her. “MeiLing! Could you get some sweet buns and two cups of tea?” She paused and realizing our barrier, I used hand motions to pick up a round, imaginary bun and proceeded to stuff it into my mouth. Then I picked up my empty china and took sips out of it. Some of my neighbours looked at me oddly. Her expression brightened like it did so often during our previous interactions and she nodded, her looped braids swaying with her actions. She turned and swiftly made her way to the kitchen. Soon after, David came back looking quite relieved- no pun intended. We sat in comfortable silence, I was about to tell him about the damaged cargos until some ol’ friend interrupted me. “I thought I saw you, ol’ friend! Greetings mam’.” Tipping his hat, Calvin or Kelvin or whatever he called himself slowly dragged David away to the other side of the teahouse where another ol’ friend was sitting at. On second thought I think it was Alvin. I was slightly too irked to mind this ol’ friend’s name. Having nothing better to do, I started prodding the ornamental flower, a few bruises was already visible from my earlier meddling. I frowned. Flowers were pretty, fragile things, something that deserved to be treated with caution and utmost care yet here I am shamelessly tormenting it. “Miss, tea and bun!” MeiLing gracefully twirled the plate of buns and placed it on the table. She then proceeded to do her teapot trick. It seemed as if her little tricks got more and more complicated and the performance even grander each time she served me tea. I noticed she only did so with me and I admittedly felt special and warm. That might have shown on my face because she flashed me a toothy smile while pouring the tea and at that moment she looked more her age. A thought that struck a chord in my heart. During our previous conversations, she had mentioned that she was twelve. Pride was oozing out of her

Fiction: Group 4

when she stated she was nearly thirteen. “One-tree!” “One-three, Thirteen?” I had questioned whilst subtlety trying to teach her. “Thir-tean!” She caught on. I smiled and softly clapped. “That was absolutely wonderful! Maili! Hun Haao!” Throwing out all of the positive adjectives in my existing range of Chinese. “And thank you for the tea and buns.” I gestured to both the items respectively and nodded a bit trying to show my gratefulness. “Yu ar welcome, pretty lady.” In good humour, she did a short grand bow and I laughed at both the ‘pretty lady’ and her playful gesture. And again, she slipped back to the kitchen. I glanced at my husband and found him still with his group of friends, low murmurs and laughs about god knows what. Focusing back at the plate of buns, I picked up one of the no longer imaginary bun and stuffed it into my mouth. I chewed slowly, contemplating on the strange taste. There was meat in this one, the taste of the bread was still oddly sweet and the stuff inside tasted like vegetable flavoured meat… Well, I think I enjoyed the previous bun that I had earlier that day. A sweet bun that oozed with warm yellow paste and then I realized she gave me yet another type of bun to try instead of the one I asked for. I guess it was her way of trying to expose me to their different flavoured buns. I shrugged, it wasn’t awfully bad nor life threatening like how some people believed trying new food to be. I snorted grabbing another bun, my husband was one of those people. Speaking of my husband, he was making his way back to our small table, looking content. I’m not sure I could say the same about myself. Seems like I never get to speak to him properly anymore. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” I smiled back recalling all the times I’ve waited for him. “When have you ever.” I was just that patient. Or I at least learnt to become. After all the nights, days, and months I’ve waited for him. And when I had first developed emotions towards this man- the owner of a small glass shop at that time, I had also waited for him to make a move. It took him a good two years. God forbid if he had taken any longer, I would’ve snapped. I nudged the plate towards him and he cringed. I smacked his arm. “At least try it before rejecting it!” He reluctantly took a nibble, not even big enough to reach the stuffing of the bun. I sighed. “David.” He sighed and took another bigger bite. For a moment, I almost regretted forcing him to try it for he looked sick and his eyes stared to water. He excused himself again and retreated to the restroom. I let him go without any quarrels, feeling quite guilty. I reached for the last bun and began to devour it. Finishing it, I sadly looked at the bun on the ground which David had dropped in his haste. It was such a waste. My mind had begun to wander back to the silk carpets when MeiLing came up to the table to fetch the empty plate. Such an attentive little girl she was, almost as if she had eyes all over the place. She looked at the fallen bun in confusion, then distress and then expressed her concerns. “Bao no good?” I laughed “No, no! It was delicious- it was good! But my- David! Are you okay?” He came up behind MeiLing, still looking a bit queasy. He smiled nonetheless. “Yes dear, I got it out of my system.” “Good, good. I’m awfully sorry for forcing that on you, didn’t think you’d react so badly,” I frowned. “It’s alright. I’m still alive” He laughed. And I’m glad David wasn’t like most men who’d react quite absurdly to my pushy nature. I suddenly brightened. “I would like to introduce you to someone who had given me her company the majority of the day. Isn’t she such a doll?” I gestured to MeiLing. But he looked confused and then laughed, “I would tell you but I need to actually see that person first Sandra!” It was my turn to be confused. “But David, she’s standing right in front of you.” “What are you talking about Sandra?” He suddenly turned serious. “There’s no one there.” My breath got caught in my throat. I wanted to cry, to shout, and to tell him that she was there, her back to me. She was there, looking at David. I started shaking. “Sandra? You’re shaking, are you alright?” I couldn’t answer him. I was stuck. I couldn’t look away from her back. I couldn’t breathe. She was there. -“Pretty lady?”

Fiction: Group 4

If Not Now, When? St. Margaret's Co-Educational English Secondary and Primary School

(Secondary Section), Von Pflug, Delia - 16, Fiction: Group 4

he streets are rather deserted, not surprisingly, since it is just past lunchtime. Here and there you can see some young secretaries struggling to rush back to their offices in their high heels, clacking against the slick pavement.

“It’s centrally located” I said turning back to my colleagues. “Huizhou’s population and industrial growth are two or three years behind its property development, there’s an oversupply of homes, it’s a dead-end” “We should just sell the project” adds another person. “I believe the bubble will deflate gently” I say as I stand up, gesturing that it was time to leave. I wait for the room to be cleared then turn back to the window. The view from the conference room is intriguing. I can see the activities on the street, fruit sellers hurriedly preparing for their busy flow of customers in the afternoon, nannies walking relaxingly, most likely making their way to a preschool or nursery. Most surrounding buildings have posters on them; my attention is caught by a rather large one which is directly opposite me. There is a woman on the poster, clad in a smart office suit, smiling proudly as if she won a promotion. I turn back around, pack up my things and make my way back down to the 30th floor. Sitting down, I switch open my laptop and start typing out the minutes from the corporate meeting, when my concentration is interrupted by a loud ringing. “Hi this is Argo Real Estate Limited, Polly Cho speaking” “Hey Pol its mum” “Mum? Hey you haven’t called in a while, everything okay?” “Yeah I’m okay honey it’s not me...” “What are you trying to say?” “Well…you know your Aunt Mei.” I have a sudden image of my aunt, a dashingly beautiful and successful businesswoman, I’ve always looked up to her. When I was young she seemed like the ultimate superwoman. A successful woman, never married, she never relied on anyone. In many ways, my role model. “She had a stroke today.” My heart skipped a beat, “But will she be alright?” My mother assured me that she should be fine. I end the conversation by promising I’d try my best to make some time to go and visit her and tell my mum to convey my wishes to her. After I hang up, I’m left with silence and four blank walls staring at me. Poor Mei, no son or daughter to care and look after her. Her success certainly came with compromises. The next day, I’m on the inter-city through train heading to Huizhou. One night here, then I’m due in Macau to meet an old friend. As I stroll into the restaurant car, I see a family of 4 sitting and eating their lunch. The two sisters are playing with each other’s hair. They notice their mother looking out the window, introspectively. One takes the mother’s hand while the other goes and pushes the father against the mother. The parents laugh at the children’s thoughtfulness and soon all four of them burst out in smiles and laughter. The mother catches my eye and gives a warm nod. Only now do I see her bright, still youthful visage despite a light dusting of grey hair. She couldn’t have been any older than me. Mr Lim, the supervisor of the project shakes my hand, “Thank you for coming all the way Mrs-“ “It’s Miss, Miss Cho” I immediately intercepted. “Oh, I’m sorry, I mean Miss Cho, really, your presentation really helped us visualize the project and put it into perspective. Thank you for coming all the way, its hard to find someone so committed nowadays,” I hope he doesn’t notice the blush that has coloured my face. “Well, it is my pleasure Mr Xi, till next time.”

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Fiction: Group 4

We parted ways, I make mine back to the hotel. Instead of taking the normal route back to the hotel, I

opted for the longer route. It is more scenic, you get to walk along a flowing lake, with a lot of trees and

nature surrounding it. I walk under the cover as I feel a trickle of rain on my head. There are also exquisitely

decorated pavilions lining the path. The rain gets stronger so I seek shelter in one of the pavilions. There is a

newspaper on the marble bench. As I could see no other way to pass the time, I pick up and begin reading

it. I skim through an article about a new infrastructure project linking Hong Kong to Zhuhai when I see the

title of another article. “Family-friendly policies are still rare in corporate cities, new survey finds” As I go

through this article, the only thought formed in my mind is “go figure”. The sky did not seem like it would

clear anytime soon, so I decide to just bolt to the hotel and try not to get my best Ermenegildo Zegna dress

too wet.

Back in my room, I take out my laptop, some time for myself now, I think, let’s put away the work. I log on to Facebook and scroll down the newsfeed. A new chat pops up, I click it open. Peculiarly, it’s my former classmate from high school, Andrew, or Andy as I used to call him. He tells me he is contacting me about real estate, since he heard from a friend that I am in the business. “Yes of course, Andy! We have a few on the high-end side in Huizhou too if you are looking for that” I respond quickly, and somewhat desperately. “Yes that’s exactly what I need, I’m looking for a bigger space. I go back and forth from Hong Kong to the mainland for my work so the location is perfect.” Wow, a wife and kids? I sure haven’t been in contact with Andy for a while. “Perfect, I can show you the houses in a few days!” With that I exhale a sigh of relief and begin packing my things to prepare for the trip to Macau. As a child, everything about Macau was the Portuguese egg tarts, Formula 1 grand prix and historical monuments. Coming out from the ferry, you’d soon see the racing track. If you’re lucky to be in the right place and the right time, a racecar would whizz past you with all its vigor and its smell of diesel and speed, leaving you dazed and longing for more. Now, it’s all about the casinos and the spending. Can’t complain I guess, since this is what got me where I am. I unlock my screen and dial Richard’s number. I sit at the famous Restaurante Porto Interior, eyeing the plates of African chicken and Bacalao the waiters serve as I wait for Richard. The restaurant is a microcosm of Macau, a seamless blend of Portuguese and Macanese, affordable yet satisfying. “Polly , I do apologize for being late!” said Richard as he gives me a greeting on my cheek. “That’s perfectly fine Richard, you know I love my own company - no pun intended!” “Same old, same old,” he replied with a laugh “Let me get straight to it, I have a great house in Huizhou, newly-built, 2 stories, centrally located, riverfront, everything you need.” “Well, that seems like a big house, not really suitable for me,” Richard says while uneasily smoothing his bare ring finger with his left hand. He catches my eye, “All that glitters is not gold” he replies wearily. This is when I notice the dark circles that encompass his kind eyes. Richard was the first of my friends to settle down. He was always charming and adventurous – a guy who seemed like he was a master of all trades, that’s why we were all taken aback when he decided to get married. Did I mention he was also a tireless worker? He put his job over everything; it was his pride and joy. Unfortunately it seemed, this made his family life difficult. “But tell you what, I have a colleague that may just be interested, wife with 2 kids, they need all that” We talked all through the night, through dipping the freshly- baked bread into our piping hot curries and between breaths after eating the spicy clams. The next morning I call the number Richard gave to me and clinch a deal. I sift through my folders in my briefcase until I find the one titled “Huizhou.” I put a tick on one of the pictures - just 2 more to sell! I glanced at my watch, 1 pm. Perfect I think. I can catch the 2 o’clock ferry straight to HuiZhou. I arrive at the port in Huizhou and I feel immediately at ease. It’s just over 3 o’clock and the sun still lingers, the rays warm my face and the winds breeze through my hair. As I wait for a taxi, I spy a poster on one of the tour group coaches parked on the right. A couple stand together hand-in hand with their luggage, young and anxious for the wonderful journey that awaits them. A taxi arrives and I give him the address to ‘‘La Mia Casa”.

Fiction: Group 4

The estate is undeniably as grand as it sounds. All the houses have a pale exterior, the architecture a fine blend of traditions, culture and innovation. Spacious yet convivial. 10 beautiful houses face the West Lake. I walk to the house located at the end of the lane; I unlock the door but not before smoothing my hand against fine robust Mahogany. I make my way to the master bedroom on the second floor. I look out and see the calm water with an occasional ripple. Surrounding the lake is a beautiful plethora of trees. I see a few houses peeking out here and there. A couple of people on the peddle-paddle boats travel past. The trees on the far side of the lake were mirrored on the lake, with it being fall, the leaves were in full color, and as the lake ripple, and they seem to dance with a life of their own. The silent buzzing of my phone draws me out of my thoughts. Andy is calling to tell me he has arrived. I quickly walk down the stairs and leave the house to meet him. Just as I walk out, I see a powerful Jaguar pulling driving in to the estate and parking. Andy comes out of the car and to my surprise, opens the back door where 2 beautiful little girls jump out. A lady who I assume is his wife comes out of the car. She is dressed modestly and classically, and motherly. She goes around the car and takes the hands of the little girls. How enchanting, I think as I admire them. I don’t notice Andy walking to me until he calls out my name. “Polly!” “Oh how nice to see you, Andrew, it has really been a while” I say as I embrace him. “Don’t be so formal now, you can switch off your professional features.” “Well, I am here to sell you this house so I guess I’m working now” “Come on now, we’re old buddies! Now, show me this gorgeous residence you’ve been on about.” He introduces me to his family as we make our way to the house located near the gate. Not long after we start walking his two little cherubs run up and start eyeing me with their curiosity. They twirl around in their petite dresses and play around with their neat plaits. I open the door for them, Andy steps in first with his wife. They seemed impressed and allured. I bring the two little girls in the house, they immediately spring from my hand when they spot a large sofa covered in white suede. “Wow”, exclaims Andy’s wife. She face is beaming just as brightly as her little girls, which gives me a twinge of pride. I show them the kitchen which is fully equipped with the best appliances. Then, the 2nd floor bedrooms with the sensational view of the West Lake. We make our way back downstairs where the two little ones are still rolling around. I see their parents exchange a glance that seem to say “Oh what treasures” The girls notice us and follow us as we walk to view the garden and the pool. “Hey Polly, could you take care of Annie and Grace while I discuss with my wife?” asks Richard Sensing a successful deal about to be closed, I turn around to find the two little girls. Would you like to see your bedrooms?” I ask the girls. Their angelic little faces lit up like I had just baked them a big cake. I gesture to the staircase in the house and they immediately dash in the house and run up the stairs. Their two rooms stand together side by sand. We enter the room on the left first. The kids gasped as they saw the pale pink wallpaper and the bed in the middle of the room. “It is soooooo pretty!” uttered the younger one who I assume is Annie. Grace is usually the older one’s name according to the countless TV dramas I’ve watched. Grace quickly proclaimed the room hers and goes from corner to corner to canvass the room. I watch as she tries to push with all her might to sit up on the window ledge. A smile blossoms on her face as she finally makes it on the ledge and observes the view outside the window. Annie tugs on my skirt and urges me to take her to the other room. I call out to Grace and tell her to come along when the impatient little Annie laces her delicate fingers through mines and drags me to the other room. “Waaaaaaaoh” says Annie, once again delighted and excited at the magnificence of the room. No doubt summoned by her curiosity, Grace walks in the room. Her eyes light up, half because of she is amazed and half because she may have realized that she made too rash a decision. Perhaps it is their charming innocence or perhaps their adorable relationship that makes me smile. My heart just warms and a smile erupts on my face. Annie takes notice of this and begins bursting into laughter. Soon the room is a house of giggling, red-faced girls. I hear footsteps on the staircase and see Andy coming up with his wife, grinning, arm-in-arm. She bends down and reaches for Annie and Grace’s hands. “Kids, you like the rooms? Well you better, because these are going to be your new rooms,” says Andy’s wife. With that, the house became a candy store, filled with thrill and cheerfulness. Andy comes to me and says that he’ll visit my office the next few days for the paperwork. “Thank you for all your help Polly, it’s really a great place, I’m certain now that my family has a wonderful home” “I must thank you Andy, you just saved my company!” I say.

Fiction: Group 4

We all leave the house and exchange goodbyes; they get in the car but not before Annie and Grace come to me. I expect a warm hug but they both jump on me and plant kisses on my face. I am taken by surprise by their affection, their mother smiles from a distance and jokingly tells her children not to pester me anymore. “You need a ride? We have space for one more in here,” says Andy as he drives up to the gate. “No, I’m okay. I can call a taxi, we aren’t going the same place anyway.” I reply, as I thank him for his consideration. “Okay, but I’ll be seeing you soon!” says Andy, driving off. I wave to the kids as they smile to me from the windows of the car. I watch as his car zooms off and I am left on my own, a momentary loneliness flitting through my mind. I straighten my suit and brush the feeling off. The sun is setting nonchalantly, the sky turns a gentle hue of orange. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out and see that it is my boss calling. “Hey Polly, I’m calling to see how the houses are doing, any progress?” “Yes actually! I’ve sold one to the casino owner’s son from Macau and another to a TV producer just now.” “Ah, well, not bad, but we really need to get the last one sold.” I detect the note of disappointment in his sentence. Just as I was about to give him the standard reply, A truck comes driving past. As it comes closer, I see that it is an ice cream truck. An ice cream truck? In October? The truck is bursting with colors and patterns, red, blue, pink everything in the spectrum. Stars, stripes, floral, everything you can think of. The closer it comes, the more I notice the picture on the truck. The parents and a child. The child is smiling brightly with her hand holding her mother’s. A family. A happy family, much like Andy’s. I look at the house at the end of the lane one more time and fiddle with the keys in my pocket. Maybe they could be my keys. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Annie and Grace’s kisses linger on my cheeks. Anytime means no time. And if not now, when? I open my eyes and am greeted by the blue irises that grow along the driveway. “You know what, the house has just been sold. A buyer made a decision just this moment.” With that, I end the call. I was always told to not put all my eggs in one basket, but now I think it’s time for me to break some eggs and make my omelette. I’m ready for my new tale.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta St. Mary's Canossian College, Ng, Annette - 15, Fiction: Group 4

he afternoon in June was cooler than usual; the sun hid behind the thick clouds and cold breeze flitted through the village. Ah Man walked into the paddy fields and bent down once she pulled up her sleeves and trousers; her hand dived into the water and almost unable to reach the soil. Her

friend, Ah Xi came towards her and said, “What are you doing here?” “Too much water,” said Ah Man bleakly. “Looks like we won’t be able to have a lavish feast this winter.” “The rainstorm has just stopped and Pearl River has overthrown and begun to flood the fields. It’s no use crying over spilt milk. I have been selling things but it is still not enough—” There was a light whistle and they turned around, a tan-skinned boy passed by and Ah Man yelled, “Ah Ming!” “Ah Man,” said the boy in response as he spotted them and began walking towards them. “Where are you going?” “To the Chief’s place, he has called us for an assembly outside his hut.” “Isn’t it an hour later?” “Males assemble first and figure out plans to solve the flooding. You know how hard it is for us to survive. It takes me three days to get a hare into my trap.” “I have forgotten how meat tastes like,” said Ah Xi. “The only food I have for days is cornmeal.” “That’s because you are a girl and cannot help bringing game back to the family.” “I am selling my sewing at the market.” “That’s barely enough to buy anything,” said Ah Ming while squinting his eyes, gazing at the hut at the far end. “Anyway, I have to go now. You girls go back and do some sewing to make contribution to your families. Stopping idling and doing nothing.” “We didn’t—” He hurried off, leaving the girls behind. Though Ah Man wanted to go back home, Ah Xi was filled with curiosity. She pulled her friend and they followed him to the Chief’s home. As they knew they were not supposed to be here, they hid behind the bushes, peeping through. “I’m warning you,” said Ah Man. “Curiosity kills.” “Actions are always the key.” The boys assembled first. Since the fields were flooded, they were excused from working the fields. At first, they gathered quietly for a while, but as more boys arrived, they broke into uproarious play, and their talk was still of jokes and games. The smaller ones stood aside, playing cat’s cradle or clutching the hands of their older brother tightly. More men arrived, standing beside their sons while speaking of the flood and what they did to make a living. Their frown stayed on their foreheads and their conversation was low-spirited, whenever they heard of jokes, they would put on a wry smile rather than chuckled. The conversation did not cease until the Chief came out from his dwelling, with his son Wei propping him. Children stopped chatting and gazed respectfully at the elder. A teenage boy immediately placed a chair behind the Chief and the Chief sat down. “Everyone knows the flood has affected our harvest this year,” began the Chief. “And most likely, we won’t be able to have enough grains to survive through the winter solstice.” There were murmurs and gasps rising from the crowd and the Chief raised his hand, continued his speech as soon as the clamour faded out. “I understand your worries, all of us here have mouths to feed back home. Though the females can earn a living by sewing, it is not enough and we have to think of a solution.” “Chief,” said a man standing at the back. “I have an idea.” “Zhang San, please tell.” “Everyone knows that we have Dragon Kings ruling Four Seas, and they manipulate weather and bring rainfalls,” said Zhang San and a few villagers nodded. “Earlier on, our shrine for Dragon King of the South Sea was damaged but we did not repair it at once. And now he is punishing us with flood.” “What can we do to calm his anger?” asked another villager.

T

Fiction: Group 4

“All of us must have heard of Hebo, the Lord of Rivers. People worship him by throwing valuable things into the river. But I don’t think it is enough to soothe the Dragon King’s anger. We may need a living thing.” “But the only one in our village who keeps animals is Little Li.” “I only have an ox for plowing,” piped the little man standing at the front. “If I throw it into the river, we will have to plow the fields laboriously for days!” “Little Li is right, we cannot sacrifice the ox!” “Then perhaps we will have to sacrifice one of us,” said the Chief. The crowd went muted. Men glanced at each other nervously, though the boys did not understand much, telling from their fathers’ faces, they knew something was not quite right. “Our sons are precious; we cannot throw them into the river!” “Yeah, who is going to take care of us when we get old?” “If not us, then the women!” Ah Man gasped but quickly her mouth was covered by Ah Xi’s palm. Then they heard the Chief saying, “We can offer a virgin girl as a bride to the Dragon King. This is the only way to cease the flood. Everyone go home and fetch your girls; we will have a raffle once everyone come back. Hurry up!” The crowd scattered back to their huts and made the females assemble in front of the Chief’s house. The females all looked startled and shuffled their legs uneasily; the wives greeted each other while the girls stay beside their family members closely, not making any sound. Ah Man went to join her mother, who was asking her husband the details of the men’s assembly. Cold wind pierced the children’s faces and it bellowed without a steady beat. The sudden algidity made Ah Man stared at the grey clouds that had saggy pouches down underneath. “There is a storm in the air,” said Ah Man gloomily to Ah Xi. “I hope our houses will not be flooded.” “This will happen, especially when they claim that the Dragon King is furious.” “Anyway, who do you think will most likely be the bride?” “I don’t have any idea. Let’s cross our fingers that the chance will land in someone else’s hand.” Wei came out from the hut with his father again, with Little Li holding a box with shreds of parchment inside. The villagers stopped their talks and focused on the Chief. The Chief cleared his throat and said, “Virgins please come forward and draw lots. The one who picks the shred with a black blob will be our saviour and bride today. Don’t unfold it until everyone has taken one.” One by one, the girls picked up their lots and returned to their families, clinching and staring at their bit of parchment. “I sure hope my little girl is not going to be the bride,” muttered a mother while looking at her seven-year-old daughter, who had just came back with the lot in her palm. “She is still so young.” “Age does not matter,” snapped her husband. “As long as she can ease Dragon King’s fury.” “But she is still so little—” “Don’t be ignorant. Age does not matter at all as long as she is a virgin.” Swiftly, the girls finished picking their lots, and the Chief started giving instructions. “Ah Man, help me hold my slip, I need to clean my shoes,” said Ah Xi once she gave Ah Man her slip, then crouched down and brushed off the dirt on her shoes. Ah Man looked at Ah Xi, who was busying cleaning her shoes. Her fingers unfolded her paper and took a quick; she immediately folded it back, unable to take the truth. If that was the case, then she would have to… “I am done, thank you,” said Ah Xi. Ah Man handed back the slip. “Girls, unfold your paper,” ordered the Chief. For the next moment, no one moved, and then all girls opened the slips simultaneously. Suddenly, all the men and women began asking at once, “Who gets it?” “Is it Little Li’s daughter?” “Is it Ah Xing’s sister?” Then the voices began to say, “It’s Ah Xi.” Little Li dashed through the crowd to Ah Xi and forced the slip out of her hand. It had a rich shiny black blob on it, the ink mark that the Chief had made not long ago. Little Li held it up, showing the slip. “Alright, everyone,” said Wei. “Let’s do it.” “Papa, save me!” “Shut up,” snapped her father, not moving at all. “You can finally make good use of yourself and make contribution to our village.” “But I don’t want to and it is not fair—”

Fiction: Group 4

“Play fair, Ah Xi,” said Ah Ming and other nodded in unison. “All the girls took the same chance. You are our saviour and you should be proud of it.” “But I—” People went upon her and wrapped her with a long piece of red cloth. Then they carried her to the river bank. Despite Ah Xi yelling Ah Man’s name, Ah Man was not moved. She watched her friend being thrown into the river and her voice sank as the body disappeared into the flowing water, the piece of red cloth surged onto the surface and followed the water current, floating further and further away from the village…

Fiction: Group 4

The Raffle St. Mary's Canossian College, Chan, Chloe - 15, Fiction: Group 4

he afternoon in June was cooler than usual; the sun hid behind the thick clouds and cold breeze flitted through the village. Ah Man walked into the paddy fields and bent down once she pulled up her sleeves and trousers; her hand dived into the water and almost unable to reach the soil. Her

friend, Ah Xi came towards her and said, “What are you doing here?” “Too much water,” said Ah Man bleakly. “Looks like we won’t be able to have a lavish feast this winter.” “The rainstorm has just stopped and Pearl River has overthrown and begun to flood the fields. It’s no use crying over spilt milk. I have been selling things but it is still not enough—” There was a light whistle and they turned around, a tan-skinned boy passed by and Ah Man yelled, “Ah Ming!” “Ah Man,” said the boy in response as he spotted them and began walking towards them. “Where are you going?” “To the Chief’s place, he has called us for an assembly outside his hut.” “Isn’t it an hour later?” “Males assemble first and figure out plans to solve the flooding. You know how hard it is for us to survive. It takes me three days to get a hare into my trap.” “I have forgotten how meat tastes like,” said Ah Xi. “The only food I have for days is cornmeal.” “That’s because you are a girl and cannot help bringing game back to the family.” “I am selling my sewing at the market.” “That’s barely enough to buy anything,” said Ah Ming while squinting his eyes, gazing at the hut at the far end. “Anyway, I have to go now. You girls go back and do some sewing to make contribution to your families. Stopping idling and doing nothing.” “We didn’t—” He hurried off, leaving the girls behind. Though Ah Man wanted to go back home, Ah Xi was filled with curiosity. She pulled her friend and they followed him to the Chief’s home. As they knew they were not supposed to be here, they hid behind the bushes, peeping through. “I’m warning you,” said Ah Man. “Curiosity kills.” “Actions are always the key.” The boys assembled first. Since the fields were flooded, they were excused from working the fields. At first, they gathered quietly for a while, but as more boys arrived, they broke into uproarious play, and their talk was still of jokes and games. The smaller ones stood aside, playing cat’s cradle or clutching the hands of their older brother tightly. More men arrived, standing beside their sons while speaking of the flood and what they did to make a living. Their frown stayed on their foreheads and their conversation was low-spirited, whenever they heard of jokes, they would put on a wry smile rather than chuckled. The conversation did not cease until the Chief came out from his dwelling, with his son Wei propping him. Children stopped chatting and gazed respectfully at the elder. A teenage boy immediately placed a chair behind the Chief and the Chief sat down. “Everyone knows the flood has affected our harvest this year,” began the Chief. “And most likely, we won’t be able to have enough grains to survive through the winter solstice.” There were murmurs and gasps rising from the crowd and the Chief raised his hand, continued his speech as soon as the clamour faded out. “I understand your worries, all of us here have mouths to feed back home. Though the females can earn a living by sewing, it is not enough and we have to think of a solution.” “Chief,” said a man standing at the back. “I have an idea.” “Zhang San, please tell.” “Everyone knows that we have Dragon Kings ruling Four Seas, and they manipulate weather and bring rainfalls,” said Zhang San and a few villagers nodded. “Earlier on, our shrine for Dragon King of the South Sea was damaged but we did not repair it at once. And now he is punishing us with flood.” “What can we do to calm his anger?” asked another villager.

T

Fiction: Group 4

“All of us must have heard of Hebo, the Lord of Rivers. People worship him by throwing valuable things into the river. But I don’t think it is enough to soothe the Dragon King’s anger. We may need a living thing.” “But the only one in our village who keeps animals is Little Li.” “I only have an ox for plowing,” piped the little man standing at the front. “If I throw it into the river, we will have to plow the fields laboriously for days!” “Little Li is right, we cannot sacrifice the ox!” “Then perhaps we will have to sacrifice one of us,” said the Chief. The crowd went muted. Men glanced at each other nervously, though the boys did not understand much, telling from their fathers’ faces, they knew something was not quite right. “Our sons are precious; we cannot throw them into the river!” “Yeah, who is going to take care of us when we get old?” “If not us, then the women!” Ah Man gasped but quickly her mouth was covered by Ah Xi’s palm. Then they heard the Chief saying, “We can offer a virgin girl as a bride to the Dragon King. This is the only way to cease the flood. Everyone go home and fetch your girls; we will have a raffle once everyone come back. Hurry up!” The crowd scattered back to their huts and made the females assemble in front of the Chief’s house. The females all looked startled and shuffled their legs uneasily; the wives greeted each other while the girls stay beside their family members closely, not making any sound. Ah Man went to join her mother, who was asking her husband the details of the men’s assembly. Cold wind pierced the children’s faces and it bellowed without a steady beat. The sudden algidity made Ah Man stared at the grey clouds that had saggy pouches down underneath. “There is a storm in the air,” said Ah Man gloomily to Ah Xi. “I hope our houses will not be flooded.” “This will happen, especially when they claim that the Dragon King is furious.” “Anyway, who do you think will most likely be the bride?” “I don’t have any idea. Let’s cross our fingers that the chance will land in someone else’s hand.” Wei came out from the hut with his father again, with Little Li holding a box with shreds of parchment inside. The villagers stopped their talks and focused on the Chief. The Chief cleared his throat and said, “Virgins please come forward and draw lots. The one who picks the shred with a black blob will be our saviour and bride today. Don’t unfold it until everyone has taken one.” One by one, the girls picked up their lots and returned to their families, clinching and staring at their bit of parchment. “I sure hope my little girl is not going to be the bride,” muttered a mother while looking at her seven-year-old daughter, who had just came back with the lot in her palm. “She is still so young.” “Age does not matter,” snapped her husband. “As long as she can ease Dragon King’s fury.” “But she is still so little—” “Don’t be ignorant. Age does not matter at all as long as she is a virgin.” Swiftly, the girls finished picking their lots, and the Chief started giving instructions. “Ah Man, help me hold my slip, I need to clean my shoes,” said Ah Xi once she gave Ah Man her slip, then crouched down and brushed off the dirt on her shoes. Ah Man looked at Ah Xi, who was busying cleaning her shoes. Her fingers unfolded her paper and took a quick; she immediately folded it back, unable to take the truth. If that was the case, then she would have to… “I am done, thank you,” said Ah Xi. Ah Man handed back the slip. “Girls, unfold your paper,” ordered the Chief. For the next moment, no one moved, and then all girls opened the slips simultaneously. Suddenly, all the men and women began asking at once, “Who gets it?” “Is it Little Li’s daughter?” “Is it Ah Xing’s sister?” Then the voices began to say, “It’s Ah Xi.” Little Li dashed through the crowd to Ah Xi and forced the slip out of her hand. It had a rich shiny black blob on it, the ink mark that the Chief had made not long ago. Little Li held it up, showing the slip. “Alright, everyone,” said Wei. “Let’s do it.” “Papa, save me!” “Shut up,” snapped her father, not moving at all. “You can finally make good use of yourself and make contribution to our village.” “But I don’t want to and it is not fair—”

Fiction: Group 4

“Play fair, Ah Xi,” said Ah Ming and other nodded in unison. “All the girls took the same chance. You are our saviour and you should be proud of it.” “But I—” People went upon her and wrapped her with a long piece of red cloth. Then they carried her to the river bank. Despite Ah Xi yelling Ah Man’s name, Ah Man was not moved. She watched her friend being thrown into the river and her voice sank as the body disappeared into the flowing water, the piece of red cloth surged onto the surface and followed the water current, floating further and further away from the village…

Fiction: Group 4

Reminiscence St. Mary's Canossian College, Ng, Katie - 16, Fiction: Group 4

young man’s reflection was glaring back at a young girl by the pond; suspicion etched into his round-edged face, and the same alertness was present in both pairs of caramel brown eyes. He probably thought she doubted if he was manly enough. Indeed, she was.

The girl turned sideways, and so did he. She observed carefully but there was no trace of femininity there, not with her flat chest. She then looked at her feet where she was wearing a pair of shoes far too big for her and difficult to walk in. It was a hand-me-down from her great grandfather her uncle. It kept rubbing against her feet and formed annoying blisters. The girl quickly stuffed her hair into a top hat which she found in her uncle’s wardrobe. Her fringe kept on getting in her way and stuck on her lips. Unlike the other men, she didn’t shave the front half of her head as she was a girl. Fortunately, her uncle’s hat was too huge to sit on her tiny skull but enough to cover that fatal difference set upon her. She took a last glance at the young man’s warm tone in his brown eyes, and continued going on her way. Despite of the mist obscuring most of the street in Zhongshan, she was able to know the way where she was going. She has passed by this place ever since she was able to walk as a toddler, looking at it full of admiration and respect. This is a place she was forbidden, by law, to enter. And today, she would infiltrate this sacred place that she has kept long in her heart. In front of her now were two large oak door, and two guards standing next to them. Over the door hung a blazing red banner, proclaiming, in block black letters, “The Ministry of Examination”. Her throat was dry and her heart skipped a beat. She took a quick glance towards the guards. What if they recognize me? What if they found out I am a girl? And for a short moment, she wanted to just give up and go back home. But it was then her mother’s voice rang in her head. “Ah Qing, ” her mother murmured when she was trying to get the little girl to sleep, “ don’t ever let anything get in your way, my darling. You will be able to achieve anything you want.” “Is it true mother?” the little girl said while yawning, “ I can do whatever I want?” “Yes my sweetheart” her mother chuckled, “ Just follow your heart. You are so brave and special my darling girl.” Calm down, Ah Qing. She told herself. You are on a mission for all womenkind. If you should fail, hundreds will follow your footsteps. She took a deep breath, removed the fringe of hair stuck on her lips and walk into the examination centre. The rest of the process is quite easy in comparison. She found a seat, registered and took out her brush pen. She always wondered why her brush pen has a dragon sign inscribed. Her mother said her father picked it up from somewhere and gave it to her before he disappeared. She hoped one day she can reunite with her father with the brush pen. She finished the papers early, believed she would pass with flying colours, and walked out the centre. At that exact moment, while she was trying to walk without rubbing the blisters, she slipped. Her feet turned outwards, before she knew it, she was on her back. Everyone was deadly quiet as they turned to stare at her. The examiners, the candidates, the guards, and even the man sweeping the floor, all stared at her with open mouths. Then she realized. Her hat fell off, revealing her jet black hair and unshaved forehead.

A

Fiction: Group 4

She tried to run and find a place to hide. But her shoes were too large that hindered her speed. She even dropped one of her shoes and she needed to go back and pick it up so as to not leaving a trail. Her hair kept on blocking her sight and stuck on her lips that made her very uncomfortable. All these added onto her physique, the guards quickly caught up with her and arrested her. Her trial was postponed as she had to be transported to Guangzhou. Her act of disguising as a man to take the Civil Service Examination caused an uproar in the country and therefore the Emperor Daoguang was forced to have an open trial while he was visiting Guangzhou. Her trial attracted lots of attention from the nearby towns. Emperor Daoguang asked, “Are you well aware this is a first degree felony? You would be put to death.” The girl answered, “Yes, I am.” “Are you pleading guilty?” he asked, with his brown eyes piercing into hers. “Yes, your majesty.” “Tell me young girl, why do you need to pull such an act? Are you trying to challenge the crown?” he grunted. “No, your majesty. I am just trying to overthrow the suppression of womanhood.” The politicians beside him all kneeled and exclaimed, “What the girl did was a shame to the throne. She must be persecuted for our country’s stability and future!” The emperor looked into her eyes. He has a same shade of chestnut brown as her. For a moment, she saw a flash of pitifulness and hesitance but it was quickly masked by a sense of authority and solemnity. He cleared his throat and spoke with calmness, “ I hereby announce the execution of Ah Qing from Zhongshan, being guilty of disrupting social order, with the sentence of death.” Her heart told her to scream and shout, to let everyone know what a terrible mistake they made, to let them know how the society was in the wrong. But instead, she did nothing of that sort. She accepted her punishment with dignity . She did not put up a fight or any struggle when carried out by the guard. As she knew very well the minute she step out of her house that morning, the fight for women’s right came with a consequence. Ah Qing’s trial was scheduled two days later. She was to be beheaded in the central square of Foshan. It was a windy day and her hair blocked her face and stuck on her lips. When the time came, her life flashed in front of her eyes. All she remembered was her mother whispered in her sleep, “Ah Qing, you are special. Never forget that.” Her lips lifted upwards, prepared to accept her fate with grace. A messenger on a horse suddenly arrived at the execution site, shouting, “Stop!”. People gave way to the messenger and were curious about the intruder’s identity. However, the executioner ignored the men and continued with the beheadal. The sparkle in Ah Qing’s eyes went off. The messenger was enraged. He grabbed the collar of the executioner and shoved him forward, “You should have waited!” The executioner grinned, “She is merely a girl with no dignity and value . She is a worthless girl believing in women’s right - as if they were smart enough to be in charge of the country. I don’t see any need to hold up the execution for her.” The messenger uttered, “Is a princess worthy enough to hold up the execution then? She is the lost princess that the emperor has been searching for! A lead just came back stating Ah Qing was her daughter!” The executioner couldn’t believe what a huge mistake he made. Instantly, he fled with his family and found a place to hide in Hong Kong. Emperor Daoguang regretted acting impulsively and that he cared too much about the power and his throne. Every year since 1832, he mourned for his daughter’s death on 9 February by using the brush pen.

Fiction: Group 4

This tale was told in every household before the Cultural Revolution so as to commemorate the brave act of Ah Qing who sacrificed herself for the welfare and rights of women. In honour of Ah Qing, therefore in 1994, General Secretary of the Communist Party of China decided to set the cities and nearby areas the incident involved as Pearl River Delta Special Economic Zone, including Zhongshan - where Ah Qing was born, Guangzhou - where the trial was held, Foshan - where she was executed and Hong Kong - where the executioner fled to.

Fiction: Group 4

The River's Soul St. Mary's Canossian College, Wong, Kylie - 15, Fiction: Group 4

he merciless sun eats the essence of the river away, leaving him with an empty soul. The fierce wind brings him into his way,

to the place where all the glory and fame are only pieces of memories to be blown away. The once shimmering golden carpet rolled out by the farmers has turned to grey concrete roads. The warm welcoming beats of the folk songs are covered by the hounds of cars and the remorse complaints of the workers. Together they create a repulsive symphony that sends chill to creatures underneath the river’s foggy mask Glittering the river was. Worshipped with fear and respect, he was once the center of the villages’ lives and they are all he has. Until the black liquor flows alone his face, he threw a tantrum in dismay, swallowing every children’s reflections to break the people’s heart as they may. Gone are the days of the empire he built. Negligence and heart breaks are in exchange. Millions of years have he waited for them to have guilt. All it gets is a cold, heartless glance. Darkness falls and brings the sorrow back. It’s time for him to take a rest. One more final breath, his soul floats away with the last drop of clean water the people have.

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Fiction: Group 4

Behind The Prosperity of the City St. Mary's Canossian College, Yeung, Natalie - 16, Fiction: Group 4

n the quickly developing cities in the Pearl River Delta, huge buildings and skyscrapers stood, the lights shining through the glass windows into the black and starless night. Now and then, planes and ships loaded with cargos were seen. The traffic on the road was jammed, filled with the beeping sounds of

impatient vehicles. Prosperity engulfed the cities. But there was something else just around the corner. There he was, in the narrow alley. Having half of his face covered in shadow, the giant eye bags could still be easily seen. He was whispering to someone on the phone. Some minutes later, he ended the call and put his phone securely into one of his pockets. He turned to leave… But got his way blocked by two muscular men. “Don’t think we don’t know what you’re up to, Inspector. Our boss will personally make sure that you don’t have a very happy ending,” one of them spat in the inspector’s face, while the other took hold of the inspector’s shirt and lifted him off the ground. There was no fear in the inspector’s eyes, as though he has been waiting for them. “Keep your nose out of other people’s business and you’ll be fine,” continues the other. “We can’t help it if you choose to follow your late father’s footsteps.” The inspector was thrown mercilessly to the ground and got beaten by the two men. He only used his arms to shield his face, knowing that he could not take down two of them at once. Minutes passed felt like hours. Finally, the two men left with a cold laugh, “This is only the appetizer.” The inspector struggled to his feet. His muscles covered in bruises were screaming in agony. Well, at least none of my bones were broken, he thought ironically. Compared to my father, this was really nothing. His heart stung a bit at the thought of his father. His father was such a respected and noble police. Unafraid of pretty much everything, he dug deep into the case of the billionaire Mr. Huang. He was certain that some illegal trading has been going on for some time. After months of secret investigation, he had got the most important evidence to Huang’s wrongdoings. Then, he disappeared. No note, no nothing, he was gone. It was clear that the henchmen of Huang hunt him down to prevent him from spilling their secrets to the world and tarnishing Huang’s reputation. The inspector was overwhelmed. How could someone want money and fame so badly that he must kill those who point out that he is wrong? Is there nothing he valued except these two things? After performing so many good deeds like donation in front of millions of audience on a television show, it turned out that these are all done so as to cover up for that he did wrong. After getting buckets of money that he could not spend all, it turned out he had sacrificed his conscience. After delivering condolence of kindness to the poor and ill-fortunated, it turned out that he was putting people to their suffering and deaths. And still, why was he still walking as a free man in society? Even influencing on others’ lives? He deserved to be punished for all his acts, but where was justice? How could the world be so unfair? Therefore, the young inspector now was determined to capture Huang, bring back justice and revenge for his father. He has been collecting evidence of Huang’s illegal trading through spies working in Huang’s company for some time now. He has got something, but not enough to charge him. Just one more, one more, and then Huang would be put in jail for good. Thinking of the work he needed to do, the inspector walked back to his house slowly despite of the pain. A few months later, the bruises had finally gone and the inspector had discovered a new piece of evidence. The man that he talked on his phone the night in the alley, was in fact one of his spies. The document obtained clearly shown the illegal trading between Huang’s company and several overseas companies which were also famous. This was such a huge discovery! All secret trading in the black market shall be revealed! The inspector would bring glory to his father and uphold justice. The inspector immediately called all reporters in the city for a press conference, prepared to reveal Huang’s secrets to the world. But he was also aware of his dangerous position. “This is only the appetizer.” The phrase was well remembered. What would be Huang’s next move if he knew he got all his information? Death like his father ? The inspector copied all data into his computer and a USB, hoping that even if he was unfortunate enough to die, Huang’s secret would still be revealed and he would not die in vain… Seeing all reporters coming in the hall for the conference, the inspector held his speech in his hands, getting ready to give out his findings. He walked on the platform to the stage…

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Fiction: Group 4

“Bam!” came a sound that stopped all breathing and paused the time. The inspector looked down at his chest: a sticky red substance was already infiltrating his white shirt. He looked over at the far end of the hall, and saw two familiar men, one holding a gun, fleeing. Next, he felt a sudden pain and found his breathing more difficult by the second. Everything turned into a blur. Camera lights, crowds of people were rotating around him. He dropped to the floor. Knowing what has just happened, he quickly drew out the USB and thrust it into the hands of the nearest reporter next to him, before closing his eyes and seeing nothing but absolute blackness.

** It was a week after the sudden attack. The inspector found that he was lying in a white bed, surrounded by white walls and a white ceiling. He saw a newspaper lying next to him, with some familiar pictures. He immediately held it up and read: “Secret of Huang Revealed. Hero Inspector Still Unconscious in Hospital” “The gun-shooting incident happened a week ago has had a new twist. It turned out that Mr. Huang, the billionaire who had done a lot of charity, has also carried out the act of money laundering for eight years. Thanks to the inspector who was deep in a coma after being shot, the police have been able to discover Huang’s evidence in the black market so efficiently and caught Huang at the last minute when he was at the Hong Kong borders. Huang is now under charges of money laundering and murdering of the inspector’s late father. A hearing will be scheduled in May… A smile came across the inspector’s face for the first time after his father died.

Fiction: Group 4

The Girl in Rugged Clothing St. Paul's Co-educational College, Wang, Wei Tong Phoebe - 15, Fiction: Group 4

ollution problem is serious in the Pearl River Delta. I urge you all to take part in environmental protection. Thank you."

I bowed, leaving the stage under the accompaniment of the loud applause and flashes of cameras. Today was an important day. Today was the day I was officially elected as the governor of Guangdong province, though it is quite unusual for a man of my age to be successfully elected as a high-ranking official. Reducing pollution was one of the vital factors that led me to my success. "Mr. Zeng, the hotel has provided us a suite. Would you like to have a rest first?" I nodded and followed my secretary. The moment I entered the suite, I took off my suit and sat on the couch. I turned to my secretary, Yang, and asked, "So, what is my schedule for tomorrow?" "First, we will set off for different cities and towns in Guangdong. Then, we will go to Yuancheng District to meet with the secretaries and governors of provincials nearby. The matter that would be discussed is the percentage and distribution of money among different provinces after the construction of several factories." "Okay. Go back to your room and rest." After Yang left the room, I took a comfortable bath and went to bed early. There was fog everywhere, causing me unable to locate myself in this murky place. Squinting my eyes hoping to gain a better view of the surroundings, I saw a faint image of a tall building not far ahead. I moved towards it slowly and cautiously. Suddenly, a strong gust of freezing wind blew by, it was so cold that it felt like thousands of needles were prickling my skin. “Zeng, come here. Come here.” A deep voice echoed. I opened my eyes wide and gasped for air greedily. When I saw the roof above me, I realised everything I encountered previously was just an unrealistic dream. Feeling weary, I took a quick glance at the clock, picked up the phone and dialled Yang’s number. Yang arrived shortly after I called. Having changed into proper attire already, I said, “Let’s go.” “Yes, Mr. Zeng.” After a few hours’ drive and fascinating visits, we finally arrived at the Central Building in Yuancheng District. A man dressed in a tight suit welcomed us and showed us the way to the conference room. “Dong River, the eastern tributary of the Pearl River, runs through Yuancheng District. It is visible from our building.” As we were walking along the corridor of the building, the man pointed out of the window and spoke. I gazed out of the window and saw the river glittering under the sunlight. All of a sudden, a sharp pain shot through my brain. I lost consciousness, feeling as if I was falling into an endless abyss. As I came round, I found myself lying under thick mist once again. I tried standing up, just to feel my body as light as a fluttering feather. The haze started fading away, revealing a dreadful view.

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Fiction: Group 4

It was a vast, lifeless and inert piece of land. Nothing other than scattered rubble and piles of debris can be seen. It was like a living infernal. The whole land was devoured and engulfed in darkness, and the warmth of the sun was never seen or felt again. “Zeng, you finally came.” I recognised instantly that the one speaking was the mysterious voice I heard in my dream. “What do you want from me? Where is this place? Take me back to my original country!” I yelled at the top of my voice desperately. I could not see any signs of living creature, nor the owner of the voice. “You shall not return until you have gained. The time will eventually come.” The voice said once again. “Take me away from this place! Please!” But there was no reply. I was all alone once again, standing on this piece of deserted land. This was the first time I ever felt despair. I started wandering around to ease the hopelessness overflowing my heart. I realised that I was in Yuancheng District immediately after I saw the Dong River. It no longer gleamed, but was dull in colour and contaminated. “Clang!” Full of alert, I turned around to search for the source of the sound. To my surprise, I spotted a young girl dressed in torn and ragged clothing. Her face was covered in dust, however, her eyes glowed as she stared through me. I noticed her picking up tiny pieces of rubble from the collapsed infrastructures. Just as I was about to ask her about what was happening, she darted away from the site in a hurry. Confused, I followed her. As we reached a building, I halted to observe it. It was the Central Building, however demolished. As I made my way into the destroyed ruin, my intuition guided me to the staircase leading to the basement of the building. I heard voices. Many furious voices. Quickening my steps, I saw two men arguing, while the rest of the small group sat at the corner of the room. They all had hollow eyes and were emotionless, as if they did not care what was happening. Among them was the young girl whom I followed into the building, who was using her own battered shirt to wipe the dirt off an old lady’s face. She stroked her hair and whispered words into her ear, comforting her. “Why should we waste our resources on someone who is on the verge of dying? We don’t even have enough clean water for ourselves!” One of the men said. He was taller than the other man and had a strong build. “No matter how harsh and forlorn the situation is, we should never give up any lives! It is immoral to watch someone die without doing anything! That is just like killing someone indirectly! You are going to be a murderer!” The other said, full of rage. “What about being a murderer? Nobody is going to arrest you. Laws don’t exist here anymore. Moreover, you can’t even keep yourself alive. How are you going to save others?” The tall man sneered. “At least I haven’t turned into a heartless and selfish beast yet.” “How dare you!” The tall man grabbed the other man’s shirt and clenched his fist.

Fiction: Group 4

As the quarrel was turning into a fierce and intense fight, I tried to interfere. “Excuse me, would anyone of you…” The tall man punched the other man on the face brutally, without mercy. But what frightened me most, was that his fist passed through my body. All the puzzles and bewilderment in my brain started to unravel. The people never responded to me because they could not see me. To them, I was invisible, unreachable, and did not exist. “Chen, Li, stop this!” The young girl I met earlier stood up and said. “Lin, stay out of this. I’ve wanted to teach this egoistic man a lesson since long ago!” “Chen, calm down. Now is not the time to fight. We should never fall apart in a dreadful situation like this.” Lin said. “Stop interfering with adult businesses! Be a good girl and step aside. I’ve also got to give this man who called me a beast a beating.” Li mocked. “Please, just listen to me for once, Chen, Li! The world has been in this state for at least fifty years already, but some of us still managed to survive till now. This proves that some resources might still remain out there. As long as we are determined to live and pull ourselves together. All of us will be able to survive!” Fifty years! I could not believe what I heard, but the undeniable, hideous truth was placed right in front of me. I had either travelled fifty years ahead of time, or everything that was happening was just a dream. World destruction was a term that did not exist in the world I belonged in. It seemed distant from us, something that would never happen. Despite the fact that Chen and Li did not stop arguing, Lin still stood silently beside them. As I stared into her eyes, I saw the unwavering determination and courage in her soul. The others either quarrelled with each other or simply gave up, but Lin was the only one whose eyes were lit by the flame of resolve to change the future. She was also kind-hearted and sympathetic, caring for the weaker party who needed more help than any other people. It was the eyes of a capable leader. I left the basement and stood outside of the building. As I looked up at the gloomy sky, I saw the clouds swirling. Rain started falling. I reached out, feeling the tiny droplets on my hand. "Ouch!" Without delay, I withdrew my hand as I felt tingling pain on my palm. Red spots appeared on the surface of my hand. I retreated into the building for shelter, just to hear sizzling sounds. The rain was acidic, and it was dissolving the building and remains. The hissing sound seemed to go on forever. As the sound stopped, I peered out to confirm whether the acid rain had completely ended, and set off for my journey. I really wanted to help those who were staying at the basement. They did not deserve to live in misery, suffering from torments and nightmares. They were just victims, harmed by the past generations – including me. I felt that I had the obligation to put an end to their sorrow and pain.

Fiction: Group 4

Aimlessly, I walked out of the building and entered almost every single wrecked infrastructure I came across. I was stunned. All of the infrastructures were industrial buildings, and the total amount was massive. Was it because of the pollution? Did the factories emit so much greenhouse gas and pollutants that exceeded the capacity of the earth itself? I returned to the spot where I landed and sat whilst looking around this quiet and spiritless land. What can I do to help them? “Zeng, the time has come.” I sprung up. It was the voice! “Do you still wish to return?” “Yes, I do.” “Then, return. I believe that you have gained enough. Whether what action you would like to take… that is all up to you.” “But…” “Now, return.” “Wait…” I felt the ground I was stepping on starting to deform and distort. Not being able to stand still, I started sinking into an unending void. The feeling was very familiar, and I knew I was being sent back to my own place. After a while, my back hit a rigid, solid ground and ache crawled up my spine. “Mr. Zeng, are you alright?” As I opened my eyes slowly, I saw Yang and the man in suit kneeling beside me, patting my shoulder with a worried look. Paying no attention to them, I dashed towards the window, where I saw Dong River shimmering. “Mr. Zeng, where are you…” I dashed out of the building, got onto my car and drove at the speed of a rocket, ignoring traffic lights whenever I encountered them. I reached the Dong River shortly, and as I got out of the car, tears trickled down my cheeks. I was mesmerised. The Dong River was clear and pure, sparkling peacefully and gracefully just like a crystal. Children were playing beside the rocky banks, having fun while their parents stood aside, smiling at them gently. It was entirely unlike the world I recalled. Was it an illusion? Or was it reality? I lifted my arm and took a good look of it, just to see red spots. Gazing steadily at the cloudless sky, I dug into my pocket and took my phone out. “Yang? Cancel the meeting. I will not accept any more bribery, nor fully the development of industrialisation in the Pearl River Delta solely for my own interest. Pass my words to the provincial leaders.” I got on my car once again and headed for the suite.

Fiction: Group 4

“Come in!” I took off my glasses as Yang entered the hotel room. “Mr. Zeng, I have cancelled the meeting, but the provincial leaders, especially the Secretary of the Guangdong Province, are very displeased.” “Never mind that, come over here and help me.” He stepped forward and picked up my bank statements from the table. “This is…” “As you can see, my bank statements.” I leaned back on my armchair. “I know this sounds insane, but I’d like to set up a fund for reducing pollution.” “But Mr. Zeng, I thought that was only a trick so that you would be elected as the governor of Guangdong Province.” “Indeed, it used to be a trick. But now, I’m serious. Will you join me?” I paused. “It won’t be easy.” “I understand. You’ve always gone for the more challenging path.” “So…?” He smiled. “Okay, I’m in.” I let out a chuckle and said, “Glad you chose me! I’ve wasted too much time before, so work starts immediately. Send me the best environmentalists in China. I would like to call a meeting regarding the pollution problem now in Pearl River Delta, and draw up a future plan.” “Understood.” Wealth, fame, power. When did I learn to give up the three things I have been desiring and seeking for so long without reluctance? Six years later. “Welcome to the Guangdong Environmental Protection Conference. It is definitely my greatest honour to be standing here, presenting the policies and scientific developments undertaken to restrict further pollution in Pearl River Delta. Please feel free to ask me questions.” There I was, with Yang and other environmentalists. We held a press conference to announce the details of the policies we had planned for the past few years. “Mr. Zeng, many people have been criticising you because you forcefully took the position of the secretary of the Guangdong Province. Will you give any explanations to this matter?” “Firstly, it is not reasonable to spread groundless rumours. Secondly, today is an Environmental Protection Conference, please ask questions related to the conference.” Yang said firmly. “Yang, why are you defending me? You know I purposely snatched the position.” I whispered. “Yes, you are ambitious. But the reason behind was not because of your personal benefits.” I grinned and turned towards the reporters. “Are there any more questions?”

Fiction: Group 4

“Mr. Zeng, it is known by many that you have been resisting the orders of the Central Government by rejecting industrial development in Guangdong Province. You have also been threatened many times because of this. Developing industries can help provide income and job opportunities, despite the fact that it is very polluting. Do you think the harms outweigh the benefits? Why would you go so far just to reduce pollution in Pearl River Delta?” “Industries can surely benefit our people, but project developers have to come up with better environmental protection proposals before implementing their projects here in Pearl River Delta. I must say I have done all these because I want to protect the world for our future generations. You never won’t be able to imagine how ghastly the future will turn into if we do not take action. But before I bomb you with pollution data and reports, I’d like to start…” With the new tales of Pearl River Delta.

Fiction: Group 4

Tranquility St. Paul's Co-educational College, Wong, Tsz Ling Michelle - 16, Fiction: Group 4

he slow hum of a motor ascended to a deafening bawl as the train took off the station. Blocks upon blocks of dense building flew by, a dull grey plastered on the window. I should probably be patiently mixing colour on my palette, deciding which shade of grey would be the most apt on a

canvas, being an artist and all that. Instead, I was crouching in my seat with my spine bending in strange angles. I was trying to get some sleep in the packed compartment. I rested my head on the glass panel and gently closed my eyes… “Ah Ming! You are supposed to call me ten minutes ago! Where have you been?” A man roared from his seat two rows down, instantly pulling me back from my drifting conscious. It was only twenty minutes later did the roaring along with the agitated crowd died down. I shifted and was resolved to relax against the headrest when an obnoxious wailing of a baby pierced through the stuffy air. The loud whisperings of everyone ricocheted in the compartment once again. I groaned, agitated. Sleep had constantly evade me for the past months and I hadn’t have a good nights’ rest in almost two weeks. The bags under my eyes were turning purplish and slacking despite my best effort of concealment. It was plain to see—I was exhausted. Yet, I was still sitting in the most uncomfortable seat you could ever imagine, heading towards Guangzhou.

Our company’s production line had moved to Guangzhou more than two decades ago and I was bestowed the honour to check on the production lines once per week, with the promise of a raise and a better job title. I needed the money for my amateur artistic ventures. I relented.

It was only when I started to travel from Hong Kong to Guangzhou on every Thursday, toasting and

turning for four hours on the insufferable train rides to and fro did I realised this job was more than I could handle. I was constantly on the move, my brain was being sucked dry by all the drilling in the conference room and my body scarcely got a rest. Worst of all, my muse and creativity had escaped from my overused brain and I hadn’t picked up a brush for over three months now. My energy was dissipating. I felt like a walking dead that was constantly on edge and ready to jump.

The train gave a jolt and reverberated from the whistle, signalling the nearing of the station. Everyone on

board stood up and shuffled along with their respective luggage screeching behind them. Wearily, I shouldered my overstuffed handbag, filled to the beam with tedious paperwork, and marched forward.

Get off the train. Leave the station. Hail a taxi. Get off in front of the factory. Walk in with head held

high, feigning the air of an authority expecting to be impressed. Walk around, closely inspecting the quality of cloth, the colour precision, the stock and the rundown of each line. Check all the items on my checklist. Plaster a smile on my face and praise all the workers, especially the manager. Leave with everyone happy. Hail a taxi. Get to the train station. Get on the train. Get home. This was routine. This was mechanical. This was quick and easy. I should be able to get back to sleep under four hours.

At least that was the plan until I was hailing a taxi outside the factory and realised my Home Return

Permit was missing from my wallet. How… Oh! I knew I had dropped something when I was getting off the train! I thought I was just tired and heard someone dropped something. I just didn’t realised that someone was me.

Stupid! Stupid! I was near to banging my head on the lamppost like Dobbie the house elf when I realised

the manager was still standing at the door, patiently waiting to see me out. How convenient.

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Fiction: Group 4

“ Zhiguoung! I just found out that I had lost my Home Return Permit. What should I do?” I tried desperately to recover my composure and kept on a façade of dignity.

“Miss Wong, I am terribly sorry for your loss! You may want to try calling the Immigration Department

and ask. I am sorry for not being of much help. You see, I don’t really have much experience on this front…” The rest of his words were white noise as I had my phone whipped out and was punching numbers on my touch screen, eager to have a solution to my current predicament.

“… Please get down to our office at once so we can help you with…” My arms were already flailing around trying to flag down a cab and I was diving in the cab before it had screeched to a halt. “Our office is on Mingzhu Road. You should find us with considerable ease once you got here.” The officer’s soothing voice was doing nothing for my nerves and I only managed to utter a terse “Thank you.” before I hung up. I relayed the address to the taxi driver and sat limply like a ragged doll, wanting the day to be over with.

The receptionist stood up when I pushed the door open. I was directed into a room with an officer

already waiting and a vacant seat for me. Half an hour later, I was standing outside on the pavement with a promise of getting a temporary visa on the day after tomorrow. “And for now?” I asked the officer. “For now, please find a place to stay until we can issue you your temporary visa.” She was trying to be reassuring. I guess I just couldn’t get anything through my head now.

My head was hanging low and my eye lids were threatening to shut on themselves. I could barely hold

out my hand to get a taxi. My whole body weighed a ton with my head filled with bricks and my limbs made of jelly. I might very well fall apart from exhaustion any moment now. A taxi stopped abruptly. “Please get to the nearest hotel.” Even my voice sounded weak in my own ears. Pathetic. I dosed off.

Not five minutes later, I was awaken by the taxi driver. I stepped off the taxi and looked up. Two rows of

palm trees swayed on the sides of a shallow rectangular pond. Artful blue vases were placed strategically on the banks, casting a rich blue hue over the water with the brightly lit grand hotel behind. This was a hotel build to impress. It was ostentatious.

Wobbling slightly, I struggled to the reception and was immediately helped by a smartly dressed staff

member. I got a room within ten minutes and was led there by a bellboy. Upon closing the room door, I had to drag myself to the bed and I was oblivious to the world within seconds. I woke up with sunlight dancing behind my eyelids and a tingling warm sensation flowing from my fingertips to my toes. Sitting up, I realised two things. One, I hadn’t taken a bath or brushed my teeth or eaten anything last night. Two, I was in a luxurious room that I had not looked around yet in yesterday’s haze. I acted on the first one instinctively. I cleaned myself in the bathroom and took time to check out the tasteful décor. I hunted food down in the kitchen and got myself hydrated. Then, I carefully inspected the rooms. The Victorian bedframe, the Parisian rug, the chandeliers… Even the wallpaper was picked with care—it was pearl white with swirling patterns, not loud at all and perfect as the background for the more detailed pieces like the abstract picture of a boat sailing into the sunset from 18th century on the wall. The painting was filled with bright colours—red, yellow, orange, blue, black and white… It was truly alluring and angelic. However, the most mesmerizing part of the room is not even in the room. Walking out on the balcony, Baiyun Shan, meaning the White Cloud Mountain, was just lying in front of the hotel. From what I saw, white wisps were swirling around the mountain top, and the mountain was covered in emerald. As I looked on, the white wisps gathered, becoming small patches of clouds and were dancing around the sides of the mountain—sometimes they seemed to be melting right against the sea of greenery, sometimes they seemed to be so far-apart and mists leaked from the clouds floated back to the embrace of the mountain. The clouds were magical, so pure and delicate, down right untouchable. White against green, the contrast was stark yet they existed harmoniously, one complimenting the other, taking this scenery to the next level.

Fiction: Group 4

Something about Baiyun Shan was just so disarming. Its attractiveness was undeniable, but the energy that poured out from the mountain… It lifted your spirit and awaken your soul. It breathed the breath of life on you and it filled your heart with such joy that it seeped through your lung tissues and pleural membrane, passed straight through the intercostal muscles and out of your skin. It lighted up your eyes and gave you that healthy glow on your skin. Perhaps it was the nature. Back home in Hong Kong, most of our limited land was used for commercial and residential land use. The busy roads and all our transportations emitted so much pollutants that could not dissipate, trapped by the canyon effect of all the wall-like buildings. Hong Kong had more mountains than you could have imagined, yet they never gave out this peculiar vibe. They were either removed to give way to buildings or looking greyish with all the binge eating of carbon dioxide causing indigestions. It was rare seeing a patch of clear blue sky or pure white, fluffy clouds, let alone fragile wisps that wrapped around mountain tops in such elaborate and elegant manner. I supposed Guangzhou was rapidly developing as well, but at least some parts of nature was left unscarred. I shuddered thinking of the possibility of losing this… Baiyun Shan was making my fingers tinkle, itching to have a paint bush in hand to paint the ever-changing clouds on canvases, painstakingly noting down every minute detail of the way they coiled around the mountain, the way they lingered even when they were drifting way, the way they became one with the greenery… the list could go on and on without ever coming to an end. Try as I might, there would simply not be a way to capture the interactions between the clouds and the mountain on paper unless I started drawing moving paintings. This was truly exquisite. With ample time on hand, I decided to go and test my luck, wanting to buy paint brushes, paint, a palette and blank canvases. I strolled down the streets and saw a myriad of small stores. There was one for tea leaves, one for drinks and snacks, one for women’s clothing, one for rice and… yes! One for art tools! I got what I needed in record time and rushed back to the hotel room, giddy like a child. I had to stifle a yelp of excitement when I set up the canvas and picked up a paint bush. It had been three months! Three months! This was like giving a man who had wandered in the blistering desert for days a bowl of clear water. I was positively humming with energy right now, standing here preparing to fully immerge into the fine art of painting. I stared at the mountain and the cloud for a while, just observing and taking notes of the shades of colour. Awestruck, I had decided, was a great way to stimulate my aesthetic part of cerebrum. I dabbed a speckle of white and started mixing paints to get the exact hue that I wanted. As the work went on, the excitement seeped away, and in its place a deep tranquillity and satisfaction lied. As I alternated between looking at the scenery and my canvas, I found myself immersing more deeply into the picture. In my attempt to capture the essence, I was lured further into the embrace of Mother Nature. As the sun set over Baiyun Mountain, I put down my bush and reclined my chair, just appreciating the view. This was bliss. How I wish I could stay in this moment forever! By morning, I was all packed and ready to go. With my dried canvas tucked under my arm, I checked out of my room and walked leisurely to the Immigration Office two blocks down. When I was handed my temporary visa, I thanked the officer earnestly this time. I was standing on the platform, humming softly to myself, watching the train slowed down to a stop in front of me when realisation hit me—I no longer thought of the train journeys to and fro home and Guangzhou a tiresome chore. I no longer considered the trips to the production line a dreadful job that needed to be fulfilled. Instead, now as I looked at it, I was rather keen to return. Why? The unexpected day-off, that must be it! Or was it the mountain and the clouds? It was painting. It was doing what I enjoy every once in a while. It helped to release the tension and divert me attention. It stimulated my brain and poured spirit and soul into me, preventing me from reverting to that worn-out shadow of myself. It gave me time to think things through, a time for contemplation and reflection. It was necessary, and just as equally important as eating and sleeping.

Fiction: Group 4

I stepped on the train and walked down the aisle. Slipping into a window-side seat, I relaxed into the chair and put my painting on my knees. I looked out the window as the train was leaving the station. I thought I caught a glimpse of emerald green with a white hat as the train rushed by.

Fiction: Group 4

1 2 3 Based on the true events of the ‘1-2-3 Riot’ of 1966.

The British International School Shanghai, Puxi Campus, Hughes, Sarah - 15,

Fiction: Group 4

apá?” I step out the tobacco shop, my eyes dry and crisp from the darkness of the basement

that even the subtle radiance of the setting sun blinds me. Oddly enough, the main street appears to be desolated, stripped of people, leaving only the shadow of destruction behind. Opposite of me lining the once quaint city of Macau are windows of boutiques and butchers, they stand tightly packed, side by side now only beaten and forlorn, their windows shattered, brimming the pavements with jagged shards of glass. Window shutters hang desperately clinging on to the last nail, doors forced open, beaten down, nail marks trailing along the painted wood -clawing.

However it isn’t the dismal details of the shops or the decaying sense of civilisation that brings an aching rush of alarm. What frightens me the most is what is right in front of me, painted across the stretch of the bank and the butcher’s shop, sloppy and large, in Chinese characters, in bold red. And even though I cannot read the foreign language I know what this is.

It’s the cries of a revolution. I almost seem compelled to the political graffiti, cautiously crossing the now brutally conditioned

road -bare-footed. And despite the searing pain of the glass slicing my flesh, I still stumble on, my watery eyes fixating on the angered words. I’m close now, close enough for my fingertips to touch the sticky scarlet paint, close enough to see how real this is. But reality has never been this unkind, it has never scarred my home, riddled me with threats scribbled across the streets I live in. Reality has never felt this unsafe.

“Papá,” I say, although I know I am alone, “Why did you let this happen?” My eyes begin to search frantically, except I don’t know what I’m looking for. But I don’t see

anyone – all I can see is red. Red everywhere. The red of the messages smothered along the street. The red of the splintered banners, the red of burning flags. The red of my shredded soles, the red of my bloody footprints crossing the road. The red of savagery.

“Papá!” this time I scream, to a point where my throat feels like gravel and my body throbs

fiercely, “You told me you wouldn’t let this happen! You promised!” I shout viciously, cursing, screaming until my throat is raw and tears blur my vision. All my buried

rage and explosive exasperation now crumbles, my anguish withering, leaving me feeling helpless, vulnerable. I can’t do anything; I have no power, no voice. No matter how loud I scream or cry, it won’t make a difference.

I’m just a weak child, too naïve to see the world as it is. My home was always in risk of self-

ruination but it is only now I choose to see it. And because of all these little things, because I trusted my father too much with useless promises, because I refused to accept what was happening I will always have remorse and guilt hanging over me.

Because I know I let my only friend die today. On December the 3rd, 1966.

“P

Fiction: Group 4

18 days ago I have never seen Senado Square in such enlightening spirits, every inch of the intricate tiled

ground covered with a crowd of cheering people, applauding in awe and merriment as the acrobats and dancers perform. Young children climb the statue of Colonel Nicolau, venturing on the tips of their toes just to catch a glimpse of the imaginative leaps, flips and twirls.

As the hours near midday, food stalls, markets and neighboring restaurants begin to thrive. The rich

aroma of coconut milk and cinnamon waft through the crowd, and collides with the savory scent of turmeric and bacalhau. Spices linger in the air, the distinctive fragrances of nutmeg and ginger weaving through flocks of families and friends as bakeries open their windows.

Framing the town square are saffron arches and the chalk cathedral with emerald shutters, along

with local restaurants painted cream with gold frames. Behind the cobalt-carpeted stage, stands our church. And despite its small figure it seems to be looking over us, basking the square in warmth and bliss.

“Catia, my mother is about to come on.” Tomás nudges me.

I spin around to tell my father that Xiao Ling is about to perform for it was the act we had all been waiting for in the mild chill of autumn. However a stranger who applauds vigorously stands before me instead of Papá. A mild rush of panic soars through me as I search the densely packed herd, squinting through the thick rays of sunlight. “Where is he?” I murmur, “Tomás, where is my father?” He glances around carelessly, but before he can respond I slither through the old couple behind us, in search of my father. Despite the congested state of the crowd, I manage to jam my way in the direction of St. Domingo Church, behind the stage. “Catia!” Tomás calls after me, struggling to weave through for his frame is wider. I ignore the sound of his voice for I know the clearing is only a metre away. “Catia, he’s not here!” Finally, I push past the last layer of tangled bodies and the air is no longer stale and sweaty. “He left to Taipa Island…” Tomás follows, out of breath.

“Taipa Island?” “There’s a situation there, my father… he left too,” his attempt to reassure me only arises more

questions. And almost as if it were on cue, the faint hum of police sirens interrupt the melodious beat of the

performance behind us. And I imagine the route they follow to Taipa Island as the wailing of the sirens fade. “What situation? Is it about the school they were going to build? Was there an accident? Did…

something collapse, did someone die?” I hear myself getting louder, higher-pitched so I pause and take a breath, “What happened?”

Fiction: Group 4

“Could you just calm down?” Tomás says quietly for people begin to look in my direction, “Most of the department headed over to Taipa, so there’s nothing to worry about, I’m sure they have it under control.”

My father has never been called out for duty in an emergency circumstance. Merely because Macau

is an unusually small city, it doesn’t require much attention in terms of homicides, there are rarely any violent incidents and brutality is scarce. Not once did my father have to use his gun whilst on field, it just isn’t dangerous – no one needs to get hurt. In fact, my father’s career is mostly formed with petty crimes, unimportant lawsuits, and minor burglaries. Therefore no matter what Tomás says or what my father will say it isn’t okay.

The sky is now a dusty aubergine colour, the lampposts flicker copper inefficiently and the air is

still sweet and sticky – just like every evening. The soft chatter, intricately sewn of Cantonese, Chinese and Portuguese, slowly evaporates so the only sounds filling our tired streets is the distant exuberance of neon lit casinos filled with the drunken thrill of gambling.

Tomás and I carry paper bags of stale bread and rejected pastries the bakeries offer before they close

for the night. And despite the dryness of the dough and the flakiness of the custard tarts, they smell promising, honeyed and greasy. But I also carry the anxiety for my father, hidden within, and I hope when I return home that he’s waiting for me – unharmed and safe.

In some attempt to comfort me Tomás tells me of other conflicts, ones much worse than what

Macau can endure, ones that Macau will never have to encounter. He tells me tales of where his mother is from, on the other side of the Pearl River Delta. Stories of a great revolution, happening as we speak, only it doesn’t lighten the nation, but a brings a new sense of darkness.

“It’s horrible, my granddad, he was forcibly displaced then imprisoned for no particular reason...

People are being tortured, seized of property, repeatedly harassed…” His words aren’t fueled with fury; there is a hint of despair in his tone.

“But this will never happen here, this revolution will never manage to get here, not when we’re

under the Portuguese.” I almost appear to be reassuring myself. Tomás just shrugs “See you at mass tomorrow.” We split ways and head down our dimly lit streets, with only uncertainty cradling our consciences.

At the end of the violet-shadowed street I see the silhouette of a man at my door, and I run, the thudding of my feet echoing into the soundless night, praying that it’s my father – and it is.

“Papá!” I rush to hug him but stop mid-step when I see his face, “Are you okay?” A thick stroke of red across his cheek, smeared along his jawline, but it’s crusty and dry, like rust

flaking. The bridge of his nose matches the purple of the sky, and it swells. Despite my concern he continues to jam the key into the door, and I see his knuckles freshly worn, so the flesh is pink and trickles scarlet.

“What happened to you?” I whisper, my voice shaking a little. He exhales slowly but doesn’t turn to look at me, he then silently goes to the kitchen, rinsing the

red from his hands, digging dried blood from under his nails. He doesn’t look up, he doesn’t utter a word, he doesn’t acknowledge me – he is tranquil. And as his hands become cleaner, the water becomes more pink and the quieter he becomes.

“Papá, you’re bleeding.” I murmur while my fingertips begin to tremble.

Fiction: Group 4

“It’s not my blood.” “What?” my voice is so quiet that I’m not sure he hears my disbelief. He then dampens the kitchen towel and roughly scrubs the blood off his face, leaving the grey

cloth streaked crimson. The intensity of his charcoal eyes scare me, I have never seen them so clouded and steely.

“Papá…” my throat feels thick and I nearly choke on my words, “You’ve never hurt anyone, you

can’t… you’re incapable of it…” “Listen to yourself Catia…” his words are tired and gravely, “Stop seeing what you want to see and

take a good look around you.” “You don’t have to do this, I’m sure whatever this is… nobody needs to get hurt.” My voice rises

unstably. “This isn’t your decision, or a discussion we can have. This is my job, and there are bad people,

and it is my job to stop them.” I can tell he’s trying not to raise his voice; he’s trying to remain calm. “You’re not stopping them, no, you’re hitting them, beating them.” I spit my words viciously, and

the agitation seems to flood my mind. “Because I had to, Catia.” He says through gritted teeth, “They were bad people.” “They were just building a school on Taipa Island- “With no permits, with no permission.” He cuts me off, his thunderous voice filling our dreary

house. There is a brief moment of silence where my father lowers his head as if regretting raising his voice

at me; he keeps staring at the bleached, tiled floor. And although my words are fierce with determination, my lip quivers and my legs begin to weaken. I have never so defiantly spoken up to my father – a man who I’ve idolised and looked up to. But it doesn’t feel empowering or gratifying. It feels wrong.

“You have to understand that I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he looks up, his dark eyes glossy,

“Beating them… it is awful, it is not right and you know that… because your heart is so kind.” “If you don’t want to, then don’t.” there is a pleading sense to my tone. “I’ll try.” He says, his voice incredibly low. “Promise me Papá…” “I promise.” The streets are quiet when we go to mass; the morning is still and hushed, the sky a pale

marmalade. I walk along the cobbled roads, wearing my finest frock, a creamy shade of daffodils, and my caramel curls tamed into tight plaits. My father walks beside me, but his new hat doesn’t hide his weathered face, it only casts a shadow, emphasising the blue of his bruises. And as other families, neighbors and friends gather outside St. Domingo Church, I notice hidden scratches and black eyes. I see the colours of brutality amongst my town, hues of black, indigo, purple, red. And all I can think is: this is my father’s doing.

“Catia!” I hear a whisper around the corner of the church.

Fiction: Group 4

Before I can take a step closer or even respond, a dry, rough hand grips my wrist and drags me

around. It’s Tomás, “Are you skipping mass?” I ask irritated. “When I woke my parents were gone,” he says in a surprisingly calm manner, “My mother left a

note, saying she went to stop her brother from going to the Governor’s house.” “So you are skipping mass.” I roll my eyes and turn, before the church doors close, but his reflexes

are faster and he pulls me back. “Catia, my uncle is a supporter of this revolution that I was telling you about, he supports the

chairman, and there are many more like him in Macau,” he speaks rapidly, as if there is too much to process, “And I think they are angry… because of the Portuguese police brutality.”

“Did your father tell you what they did? That they beat the people on Taipa?” I say quietly,

because even though we’re alone I’m afraid someone will hear. “Yes,” he pauses to glance around quickly, “Lots of people, not just the construction workers…

reporters… and other residents too.” “We should go to the Governor’s house, tell them that they meant no harm, stop the uprising. We

can calm them down, stop the revolution from getting here- “Don’t you see? The police did mean harm, and the revolution is already here,” distress colours

Tomás’ voice, “It isn’t safe… that’s why I’m going back to Portugal.” I hesitate to respond, for there are no words to be said. I take a proper look at him, his eyes are a

soft hazel but they are no longer warm, his pupils now fiery, they almost seem to scream. His face suddenly feels harsh, defensive – afraid. But he shouldn’t be, Macau isn’t a threat- it is our home.

And as the church doors click shut, and the ominous echo of the priest begins, the streets nearly

look frozen. There is no movement, no gale, it is just the Latin chorus of mass, and Tomás and I standing on a bare street. In this moment where time is still, I beg Tomás not to leave to Portugal, I plead, I need him to know there is nothing to be fearful of, that this is home, and this is where he belongs and needs to stay.

“I’m not like you,” he says finally, “Because I am not fully Portuguese, because my mother has ties

and connections to people who worship this new chairman. I’ll be a threat; I could be arrested or worse. You may be safe here, but I’m not.”

“So you’re not going to stay?” he can hear the hint of disappointment in my voice because he

lowers his head, to think. “No, I’ll stay,” he takes my hand lightly, “but the second this situation worsens I’ll make sure we

both get out of here.” As the days drag into nights, mild threats drag into protests. The newspapers are coated in stories of

rebellions, television immersing into controversial footage, the media plunging into politics. Sometimes in the starless nights, we can hear the faint chanting of Chinese revolutionary songs, and in the somber days the quotations of the Chinese chairman crawl through our streets.

The silence of the authorities is almost daunting; I wait for them to rise, for the startling ring of my

father’s pager, to see countless men in navy blue – armed. But as weeks past, that day doesn’t come because I am right, there is no danger, there is no conflict to fear.

Not until December the third.

Fiction: Group 4

That winter morning I wake to see my father standing outside our house dressed in his crisp

uniform, but he doesn’t wear it with honor or pride, he nearly looks disgusted as he swings a large gun over his back. Clipped to his belt, is a smaller gun, which nestles in a holster, a baton and a pair of numb chucks. He is dressed with such barbarity.

“Why do you have so many weapons?” He doesn’t realise I followed him outside, “Catia… I need you to go to your grandfather’s tobacco shop, I need you to go to the basement.” “Why?” his tone scares me. “We need to make some arrests, it may go out of hand and I need to know that you’re safe.” His voice is firm yet somewhat uneasy. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt anyone,” he catches my gaze drifting to the rifle, resting on his back.

“I need you to stay in the basement, until everything is quiet and you are sure there is no one outside.” He says, looking directly in my eyes, “Catia, I need you to do this… Go, now.”

I nod idly; he then kisses my forehead and sets off. I feel paralysed, standing in my nightgown, my

feet bare, cold against the cobbles. My conscience automatically urges me to go inside, to get shoes, my heart warns me that Tomás is in danger, that I should bring him with me to the tobacco shop. But my mind is ringing with my father’s orders: Go, now.

And I run: my chest tight, my lungs burning. And I pray: that my father will keep his promise, that Tomás is safe. And in the darkness of the basement one thought flickers: I should have let him go.

Fiction: Group 4

Umbrella Movement in Hong Kong The Chinese Foundation Secondary School, Chong, Li Yen - 16, Fiction: Group 4

was naïve enough to believe that things would change after what had happened. I was there when the tear gas rained down. A canister flew in the air with the shape of parabola. It struck the floor 10 meters away from where I was standing and it exploded into a

cloud of gas. The fumes struck me and others in the vicinity. I felt my throat and eyes were burning, the scorching

made me cough and cry. The crowd screamed and ran away from the smoke. I sprinted with the crowd towards safety and used the water to wash my eyes.

The water cooled down my burning eyes, I could see clearer, people were raising their umbrella to block the pepper spray, some picked up the gas canister and threw it back at the police. While some held the smartphones to record the situation. I called my mum on the phone, and said, “Hello mom, I am fine, don’t worry about me. I don’t know why I got caught into the middle of the protest! I was just going home on the bus after I finished my tutorial class in Sheung Wan. Then there was traffic and I had to walk to Wan Chai Station as Admiralty Station was closed.” She answered, “I am very worried about you. The police are armed with shotguns and plastic bullets! They are pointing at the protesters! Be careful!” I was shocked about what the police was doing, how could the law enforcement threaten the lives of the protesters in order to disperse and clear the demonstrators? Despite of the danger, I stayed to witness the historical event. The police stood in a rows, preventing protesters from crossing the police line. As officers threw tear gas directly to the crowd. People yelled, ”Get out!”. They retreated to avoid breathing in the irritating fumes. Then, the police move forward to drive the protesters away. It was chaotic! We shouted, ”Students are not guilty! Students are innocent!” and “Police are shameless! Police are shameless!” But the police still continued to fire tear gas at the protesters and dispersed the demonstrators. The protesters took precautions and covered their mouth with towels and cling wrap. They also wore safety goggles and even gas masks. Reporters held their cameras and camcorders positioning themselves between the protesters and the police to capture the moment. It grew dark and the conflict continued. The clash between the protesters and police caused many injuries. They sought help in the Red Cross Headquarters at Harcourt Road. Red Cross nurses helped the wounded to check and perform first aid to those in need. Some were sent to the hospital for further inspection and treatment. By midnight, I was sweaty, fatigue and smelly. I was filled with the stink of the tear gas, and I had to go to school on the next day. Therefore I decided to go home to rest and prepare for tomorrow’s school. The next day, even though, the Education Bureau announced that schools in Wan Chai District, Central and Western District were suspended. I still went as my school was not in the affected districts.

When I got to school, there were students handing out yellow ribbons, masks and leaflets. I took those things and read the flyer, which wrote,” Wear the yellow ribbons and masks. Then participate in the student’s boycott in the playground.”

I went to my classroom to drop off my bag. My classmates called me and we went down to the playground and took part in the sit-in. There were many student participants, mostly seniors.

Suddenly, a teacher stood up and announced,” We teachers have discussed with the school principal, and we have decided to move the boycott to the hall.”

He continued,” However, students who participate in this boycott will be marked. Teachers will call your parents about this event. Parents are required to write a parent letter to inform the school that they know their child had partaken in the boycott.”

After hearing this, some students left including two from our class because they were afraid that their parents would not approve of them joining the strike. Faced with political suppression from the school, I kept on with my dogged determination.

I

Fiction: Group 4

Later, the remaining students moved to the hall and sat on the floor. A student stood on the stage and introduced us to the current political systems of Hong Kong, the details on the Standing Committee of the NPC decision on electoral reform. Students who were in the protest share their experience and feelings about the protest and the tear gas. I felt depress when they talked about the tear gas, because I was there when the tear gas rained down. I was there when I felt the intolerable burning sensation.

We also watched the protest live through the Apple Daily website, luckily there were no tear gas, no police using violence. It was just a peaceful demonstration in Admiralty, Causeway Bay and Mong Kok.

Nearing the end of the day, we sang "Glorious Years" and "Boundless Oceans, Vast Skies". Everybody sang, emotions were intense, uniting a common goal of true universal suffrage. That day was educational and emotional. We learnt many things about the current political situations in HK, about other country’s elections, unfairness in the decision of NPC. Also, student shared their thoughts so we could know more the different perspectives and viewpoints of other students.

However, when I got home, trouble came..... "Mum, I'm home." I said as I opened the door. "Why did you joined the boycott! You know that your grades is always the first priority! " My mum

said furiously. “Why would you waste your time for some stupid dream of true universal suffrage? Why don’t you

just concentrate on your studies and get a decent job when you grow up!” She continued. “I don’t think that getting a good, high paying job is important when we cannot have the right to

elect our Chief Executive!” I answered. “Didn’t NPC allow us to elect our Chief Executive?” She asked “Yes, but it is not fair to us when the candidates are preselected by 1200 people!” I said. “Well at least you got what you want! You and those protesters shouldn’t be insatiable. Don’t push

the NPC, you know they won’t give in easily!” She spoke crossly. “But……” I tried to reply but my mom stopped me. “Enough, I don’t want to talk about you and the protester’s aspiration anymore! You should be

grateful when the NPC made its decision.” She kept on going. “Don’t you know how much damage the movement caused economically? Do you know that the

movement cause a lot of trouble to the resident? Do you know there are traffic jams because of the occupy movement?” She continued for 5 more minutes, but I wasn’t listening.

"Hey! Are you listening? Answer me!" She yelled. I didn't answer. "Fine! Then you are grounded until the movement is finished!" She yanked me inside my room and

closed the door. I didn't understand why she was so angry. It was just one day of boycott. It won't last for a whole year.

Missing one day of lesson won't cause a huge impact to my study. Due to the fact that I was grounded, I wasn’t able to go to the Umbrella Movement. Therefore, I watched the news, YouTube and the briefing from the police at 4 o’clock daily to get the updated information about the happenings that day. I watched in the news about six policemen who arrested a protester and brought him to a dark corner. They kicked and beat him for over three minutes. Although TVB featured the beating in their news report, they deleted the narration on the next day’s news. Making me think that this channel is in favour of the government. This incident was trending all over the place in the internet and social media. Everyone was commenting about it, mostly people felt sympathetic with the protester and thought that the police used too much force. While some thought that the police did the right thing. Some thought TVB have self-censorship and it affect the freedom of press. There were also many videos showing clashes between the protesters and anti-protesters. Some of the anti-protesters brought knife to remove the barrier and some even sexually harassed women demonstrators verbally and physically. I just hoped that people with conflicting ideas could keep calm and maintain peace and discuss the issue sensibly and rationally. Also, they would not use violence as a means to express opinions and oppose other people

Fiction: Group 4

A few days later, I found a golden opportunity to go to the occupied areas. I was supposed to have

after school tutorial at school. But the teacher was absent, so me and some classmates decided to pay a visit to the occupied region in Admiralty.

We walked down to Connaught Road from the MTR station to reach the occupied zone. The road was filled with tents of different colors. It was like colorful flowers in bloom

We walked along the road. It was like having a peaceful community, in the middle of the road. There were tents for first-aid with volunteer nurses. People constructed wooden desks for students to study, students concentrated on reading textbooks or doing home works.

There was even a small library where bookcases were placed in the occupied area for people to borrow and read when they are bored. People were disciplined as they would return the books after they are finished.

Protesters handed out yellow ribbons, stickers to the supporters. While leaflets were given out to passers-by to promote and introduce the Umbrella Movement to the public. At the same time educate the public about democracy and universal suffrage.

Some good-hearted supporters even gave out free lunch boxes for the protesters when dusk came. This shows how kind and sympathetic Hong Kong people can be.

We walked up the stairs, people were writing on Post-it and stuck them on the wall on the Central Government Complex called “Lennon Wall”. Those multi-colored Post-it formed a wonderful mosaic art.

We read some of the Post-it: “Hong Kong! Don’t give up!” “We want true universal suffrage!” “Let’s support Umbrella Revolution!” These slogans and comments gave the protesters hope. These aspiration was what kept them going and

not gave up. It also allow tourist from different countries to know more about the Movement. As we walked towards Tamar Park, there were many art work along the road. There were drawings

about Umbrella Movement posted along the walls. A statue holding an umbrella stood in the road and a gigantic yellow umbrella were displayed reminding the protesters about the day when the first tear gas was launched.

There were also many sarcastic posters and arts about the Chief Executive, current events and infamous people. For example, they draw a wolf as a symbol of the Chief Executive, an orange rubbish bin as Lau Kong-wah.

Art was everywhere in the occupied areas, every corner you turned, you could find art. This shows how creative Hong Kong people are when it comes to ironic art works towards the government.

On 21st October, Hong Kong Federation of Students had a talk with the government to discuss about

the electoral reform and constitutional development with 5 representatives on each sides. I and everybody watched the meeting live on TV. Everyone was excited about the meeting and the outcome.

During the heated dialogue, both parties voiced out their opinions to find common ground. HKFS were enthusiastic to say what they had on their mind, while only three representatives out of 5 from Hong Kong government spoke.

Luckily, the two hours discussion were peaceful, no one stormed out the room or use inappropriate attitude towards the opposite party.

However, the conclusion of the meeting was questioned by the general public as the response of the government is impractical and useless. And the protesters didn’t accept the response of the government and they decided to keep occupying major roads in Hong Kong. But the door was still open for another talk, there could be a chance for them to reach consensus.

During the next few weeks, things kept evolving. HKFS tried to go to Beijing to talk to Li Keqiang,

but their journey ended before they could get on the airplane. This was expected by many because anti-government student had been denied entry to mainland China before

Furthermore, some protesters tried to rush into the legislative council and glass broke. This lead to distrust of the general public towards the protesters as they promised to be peaceful and non-violent. However, those are just only a fraction of the protesters and not many demonstrators agreed to their action.

Fiction: Group 4

Mong Kok occupied area was cleared, but the resident still cannot have a good night sleep. Since people went to Mong Kok for ‘shopping’ in response to the encouragement of the Chief Executive CY Leung late at night. This cause noises and annoyance to the resident as they sang and shout slogan.

Also, leaders of occupy central turned themselves in to the police but they were released after they completed the form. Some of the netizen thought that their surrender failed, but the police need time to investigate the crime.

The day before the ultimate clearance of Admiralty I was able to go to the occupied zone. The

number of tents have decreased from my last visit as some occupiers had already packed their belongings and left.

Protesters hung new banners with ‘We’ll be back!’ to remind the government and Hong Kong people that the fight for democracy continues after the clearance of occupied areas.

People were throwing paper plane with thoughts written on the paper into the Central Government Complex to express their need for universal suffrage.

Some of the protesters missed the atmosphere of the occupied areas. After spending several weeks together struggling, fighting and united with a common goal, neighbours became more than friend, more like families.

During the clearance the next day, some protesters accepted the fact that everything must come to an end. They willingly packed up and left the area peacefully. Some radical once decided to stand their grounds sitting or lying down on the ground until the police came and carried them away to arrest them.

The police clear the site peacefully, there were not conflict between the protesters and the police. And the Umbrella revolution in Admiralty had finally finished.

After the police cleared the road, the blockade disappeared, traffic resumed. The scene of tents and art work were replaced by bustling cars and buses. Everything went back to normal

Watching the clearance on TV that day, I was glad but at the same time sad. Hong Kong people did

not have to live with a heavy heart living in chaos and disorder. But, I felt sad because the movement had ended without the fulfilment of the protester’s demand of true universal suffrage.

I hope that during this event, the demand of true universal suffrage was planted into the hearts of everyone.

Fiction: Group 4

New Tales of the Pearl River Delta The Chinese Foundation Secondary School, Lam, Si Yan Grace - 16, Fiction: Group 4

an’t believe we’re in Macau! I’m so excited!” I had always wanted to go to Macau, and the excitement of having the opportunity to come here made me stay awake the whole night. “I know! This year’s class field trip is gonna be a blast!” said Sharon.

“Students, gather around here please!” Squeaked Ms. Poon as she raised her arm up high to catch our attention. “Now, remember, remember, remember—never, ever leave this group, unless with permission. By that I mean permission from me, not from your friends or yourself. If you’re lost, don’t panic. Stay right where you are, and we’ll come to get you. Lastly, don’t talk or follow any strangers. Understand?” “Yes, Ms. Poon.” The whole class replied in unison. “Lovely! Let’s get started then! Firstly we will be going to visit Ruins of St. Paul’s, one of Macau’s best-known landmarks. Everyone get on the bus now! Follow me!” All of us quickened our pace to keep up with Ms. Poon. As we got off the bus, everyone was amazed by the sights and sounds in Macau. “Students, we’re gonna walk up this street and Ruins of St. Paul’s will just be up top. Stay close, guys! There are a lot of people here!” We stopped at a food stall after walking for a while and Ms. Poon allowed us to try some of Macau’s renowned food—pork chop bun, Portuguese egg tarts, etc. As I took out my wallet to pay for my food, a 20-Patacas coin slipped between my fingers and started rolling down the street.

“Crap!” I gave a small shriek and started chasing the coin. I managed to keep my eye on the coin and ran through the crowds at the same time. The coin seemed to have legs as it still hadn’t stopped “running”. When I was almost exhausted from chasing the coin, it finally stopped at a person’s foot. “Whew!” Right before I was about to bend down, that person already picked up the coin for me. “Here you go.” She was quite tall, and good looking too—blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a beautiful smile. “Thank you.” Said I as I was still trying to catch my breath. “You seemed… exhausted.” “Yeah. I just ran down the street chasing this coin.” I said. “Wait, you speak Cantonese? I thought you’re American.” “Well, I am American, but I’ve worked here for over four years—as a tour guide. I got a day off today and I’m just wandering around.” “Really? That’s cool! You speak Cantonese really well. Um, it’s nice to meet you, and thank you for stopping this coin. But I’d better go back to my group.” I pointed towards my back and took a look. Then, my jaws dropped. “Where are they? Oh no! I must’ve run too far away! What should I do? I’d really better go look for them now. Bye!” “Wait!” She stopped me. “You’re a tourist, right? Do you know the roads well? I can take you back to your group if you want.” She suggested. “Umm, I guess you’re right. Yeah, I would love that! But would it cause any trouble to you? I don’t want to take your time away from your break.” “Of course not! I don’t have anything to do at the moment anyway. I would be glad to help you.” “Oh, thank you so much! You are so nice. I’m Kris. And you are…?” “Alice.” She said. “Well, we had better get going before they are too far away from us.” “Yup. Let’s go then. I don’t know exactly where they are now, but I do know they’ll be going to Ruins of St. Paul’s.” “Oooh. Ruins of St. Paul’s. A beautiful place. Come with me.”

“Sweet pork jerky! Yummy sweet pork jerky! They’re on big sale! Come try one!” A salesperson yelled as he held a plate with sweet pork jerky cut into bite-sized ones.

“They’re always on big sales. Not a day off.” Alice said sarcastically as she giggled. “Have you tried sweet pork jerky before? They’re really good. And they’re free.”

“C

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“Sure, why not? They’re free after all.” I reached out my hand to get a sample and ate it right away. “Wow. It’s delicious! I love it! Alice, are these expensive? I want to eat more!”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. If you want some more, you’ll have plenty of chances on our way.” As she finished her sentence, another plate of sweet pork jerky was placed before me. “Want to try some samples of sweet pork jerky?” A salesman asked with a huge smile.

“Yeah, thanks!” I took another piece of sweet pork jerky with joy. As I carefully looked around, there were numerous stores with salespersons standing outside, holding plates of different food samples. Each time a salesperson held out some samples, I gladly took one and was surprised how enthusiastic they were in giving out free samples.

“There are a lot of bakeries selling food souvenirs on this street. This bakery is very well known. It has been established for over 80 years. That bakery…” I kept putting samples in my mouth as she talked about the bakeries there. However, after eating sweet pork jerky samples for at least twenty times, I started feeling sick eating them and stopped accepting the samples. No wonder not once did Alice try any of the food samples. She must’ve eaten them for like a million times.

“Look, Kris! There’s Ruin’s of St. Paul’s!” Alice pointed to a majestic yet, of course, ruined building. “Come on, let’s go up to the top!” Stairs had always been a nightmare to me as I got to walk up six floors of stairs every single day at school. However, never had I been so excited in walking up stairs. Shockingly, I made my way up there in less than a minute. “Hey, how come it’s ruined?”

“Well, let me tell you some history about it.” “Awesome! You can be my tour guide for the day then.” Alice smiled and started explaining.

“Ruin’s of St. Paul’s was actually a Catholic church built by the Jesuits...” “Oh… Wow. You really know a lot about this building. You’re an amazing tour guide.” I said as I

looked down on the street from Ruin’s of St. Paul’s. “Wait, is that Sharon? Look! There’s my group! Alice, thank you so much! I learned a lot and had so much fun today! But I’m gonna go meet them now! Bye!”

“See ya! Have fun!” I waved and started running down the stairs. “Kris! Where have you been! We’ve been looking for

you everywhere!” “Sorry, I dropped a coin and ran a bit far away as I was chasing it. But I met a girl called Alice! She

was so nice! She was the one that took me back here.” “You talked to a girl? Remember what Ms. Poon said today?” My memories started to recall what

Ms. Poon said in the morning: never leave the group, stay right where I was if I got lost, and don’t talk to or follow any strangers. Whoops. Well Alice wasn’t a stranger anymore so at least that didn’t count.

“Kris Chan! Come over here! Now!” Ms. Poon yelled with fury written all over her face. “Where did you go? Didn’t I tell you NOT to leave the group? We were all so worried! Who knows what could have happened to you…” I didn’t have the gut to look at Ms. Poon as she scolded me for nearly half an hour.

“Anyway, I’m glad that you’re safe. But we will need to do a report on Ruins’ of St. Paul’s and

you totally missed Ms. Lee’s presentation as we’re touring it!” said Sharon. “Don’t worry. I know Ruin’s of St. Paul’s. It was originally a Catholic church but was destroyed

by a fire in 1835, right?” “Uh… Yeah. How did you know?” She asked curiously. I gave her a mischievous smile and said,

“It was a lucky guess.”

Fiction: Group 4

The Porcelain Locket The Chinese Foundation Secondary School, Tang, Yan Chuen Grace - 16,

Fiction: Group 4

veryone you lost, will definitely leave a mark behind.

Staring at the starry Victoria Harbour, I couldn’t help stop thinking about you, the moments we had been spending together and the promise you had made before you left. At

that time, if it hadn't been you, I wouldn’t be sitting here peacefully. 2 months ago, on a freezing Saturday night, I was sitting on the same bench, thinking of my new

chemistry teacher, Ms Cheung, who was going to take over Ms Chuang’s place. There was no any early notice before Ms Chuang told us today was her last day working at the school. This new teacher was so deficient in explaining her ideas to us. I missed Ms Chuang a lot!

I rose my head to watch the laser beam as they flew across the dark sky. Yet, there was something unusual tonight. In a flash, I saw a big neon green triangle formed in the sky by the laser beams and was presented in an eerie way. Despite the fact that this triangle seemed familiar to me, I couldn’t remember when had I seen it before. Maybe, grief brought by the sudden leave of Ms Chuang had made my mind went crazy. Ring! Ring! Ring!...

I heavily picked up my phone, a picture of Joyce smiling sweetly, was shown on the screen. “Hi.” I answered. “Hi, Grace! Long time no see since last summer. Wanna hang out tomorrow?” It was always Joyce

who lightened my days up whenever I was down. There was no one in this world who would always be there for me anytime anywhere. She was like a guardian angel of mine, watching me and supporting me.

“ Okay, but where? ” “Shek O Beach? I’ve been longing to go there for a long time. ” “So, as usual, ten o’clock at Chai Wan MTR station? ” “ Sure, see you then,” “ Bye. ” The next morning, I was woke by Joyce’s call. She had never given me a silent morning each time

we hanged out. I quickly put my headphones on and rushed to the train station. On the way to the beach, Joyce was speaking non-stoply about her different dialects she had learned from her new friend, Harold. “ Harold is really an awesome guy, yet a bit mysterious. He has just come to our class last week. No one knows where he comes from even though we have asked him many times.”

“ Grace, I’ve invited him to come, would you mind? ” “What? Who? ” “Harold! No worries, he is so nice and cute.” Joyce looked at me like she did every time begging

me for something. Well, even if I objected, she had already asked him, what could I say? On the beach, the sky was quite clear. Sunlight gently kissed my pale skin, making golden sand glows. The sea was shimmering until the end of the horizon. The sand was just so soft that made me feel like stepping on my blanket.

“ There he was. Harold, over here! ” Joyce waved at a tall boy leaning against a giant rock. He was a head taller than me. His chocolate brown skin lied on his muscular body. I couldn’t tell why, he seemed to be a person that I knew a long time ago, but I wonder where had I met him? “Hi Joyce! Hi Grace! What a nice day, isn’t it? ” Harold was wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. But wait! How did he know me? Urh! Joyce must have told him. I knew her.

For the entire morning, Joyce and Harold had been playing by the sea. Nonetheless, I would rather enjoy the summer breeze, the warmth of the soft sand and the symphony of the waves. These were all the presents that Mother Nature gave us. Why not took her offer on this relaxing day?

“Hey sweetie!” Joyce ran to me like a little puppy just had come out of the pool. “ I am going to get you two some drinks. Maybe you can spend some time with him. It won’t last

too long.” She blinked at me before I rejected her.

E

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After Joyce had left, Harold walked towards me. My hands were sweating as if they had just been soaked in the sea water. I was sure that I couldn’t stand more than 3 minutes with him.

“Grace, would you like to join me for a little walk down the coast? “ Harold asked me with a charming smile.

“ Em… Me? Em… I mean…O..Okay.” How stupid was I, I was trying really hard to act normally, but things had just gone out in a wrong way.

The sea was so pretty. I had never seen this magnificent scene before. Works at school had been taking up a lot of time, Head prefects, student council, English society and exams… It was nearly an impossible task for me to take a little walk down here. As a city focusing a lot on the knowledge-based economy and high competitiveness from neighboring cities, students in Hong Kong were always under a tensed environment. Also, as a major trading port opened to the world, modern sky scrappers and roads were built everywhere, forests and beaches had been closed or cut for these architects. The gentle breeze blew all my worries away.

“ Isn’t it so pretty? ” Finally, Harold broke the silence. “ Oh! Yes. So pretty. I hope this moment can exist forever. The rapid development has just ripped away this precious piece of gift from God.” It was amazing! I had never spoken more than one sentence to any of the boys, except my father. Was there really magic lying within the nature?

While we were enjoying the picturesque sea view, something was shining on the sand a few inches away. Well, curiosity killed a cat. Immediately, I went to find out what was that. It was a necklace with a porcelain charm.

"Grace, what's that?" Harold followed me. I gave him the necklace. “Huh? This porcelain charm was from my homeland. How come it appears here?" Harold said.

"How do you know it's from your homeland?" I asked. "This kind of porcelain products are unique in my homeland, Foshan. But only my family knows

how to make this kind of locket. But why was it here?" He answered. Sweeping away the sand on the locket, I opened it.

Suddenly, everything around us disappeared, the beach was gone, an eerie green triangle appeared in front of us. But after a few minutes, it vanished, and everything returns normally. It looked so familiar as if I had just seen it. Oh! The green triangle that appeared in the sky yesterday! What on earth was happening?

"So, the prophecy is true. The Day has come." Harold said. To my observation, I had never seen him being so serious, he had given me a shining character like he was not going to worry about anything.

"Harold! What is going on? What prophecy are you talking about?" "Look, Grace. I do not have a lot of time to explain everything in details. The Pearl River Delta is

in severe danger now. The green triangle you've seen, means the Pearl River Delta region. There was a prophecy in my clan saying that one day when Dark Lord and her army polluted the Pearl River Delta, a girl who releases the green triangle will save us from them. Grace, you are the girl." Harold looked at me. What... Me? What a joke! I was not a 3-year-old girl who would believe in nonsense fairytales or the Harry Potter series to be true. Harold seemed to know how to read through my mind and my confusion, " Yes, you. I know it's a bit complicated. But there's no any other way. You are the chosen one, and you are going to save us. But hakuna matata. I will always be with you, and we'll get through it together, save the Pearl River Delta." His words were so comforting to me. Maybe I should trust him. Although I was still confused at this moment, I was relieved.

“So, what should we do now?" Having no idea, all I could do now was to wait for Harold to tell me what to do.

“I have no idea. Maybe, we can pay a little visit to the Pearl River to see what's going on." He replied.

“How?" "Fly! Now, I need you to trust me that I can help you fly. Look at my eyes and don't think

anything." I looked into his brown eyes. I saw my reflection in his pupils. It felt so great. His iris was like the seed of a longan.

“Grace?" I realized I was just so embarrassing. "Yes?" My cheeks turned rosy red. “You are flying! And we are going to Jiangmen which is the second largest river port in Guangdong province. I know that

Fiction: Group 4

the government there is developing their heavy industries like petrochemical industry. I believe that there's something to do with the Dark Lord's pollution."

According to the pictures, that my geography teacher showed me, Jiangmen should be a very beautiful city lying on the Xijiang. But what I could see a few miles away, was dirty sewage and all the people lying on pavements. Children were not laughing. Adults were not talking. Brown smog was everywhere that me and Harold couldn't see things further, so he helped me landed in front of an old-fashioned shop. It just shocked me. Was that all the Dark Lord had caused?!

In front of the shop, there was an old man sobbing. I approached him to see if I could help him. “It’s the Dark Lord and her army. They hypnotized the government and made them to build the

factories of the heavy industries at the river mouth. Those factories dump the sewage to the Xijiang and polluted the water. The crops died, fish tasted like chemicals. A few days ago, my granddaughter... she... she was just 3-year-old, was poisoned by the water. It's all because of the Dark Lord! Poor us! We have nothing to do with it, but watching her destroying our sweet home parts by parts!" The old man cried.

" No worries, Mister, I swear to help you, fight against the Dark Lord, get back your freedom, take your grand-daughter's revenge on her!" I was raged by the things that the Dark Lord had done. There was no more mercy for her. As the chosen one, I must fulfill my mission.

"No, you can't. He was too strong to be defeated." The old man said desperately. "Why not? I am the..." Before the remaining words slipped out from my lips, Harold poked

slightly on my back, telling me not to continue. He whispered, "no one can be trusted. There may be the Dark Lord's eye nearby. She's not as simple as you think. "I swallowed my words. Although I was supposed to defeat the Dark Lord as the prophecy said, I was shivering and breathless as if I had just got out of the ice water. I was just a normal 16-year-old Hong Kong girl. The Dark Lord's defeat was far beyond my reach. Was I ready for that? Or maybe, I was not the girl the prophecy said, what if Harold had made a mistake?

"Okay, thank you so much, mister. Take care." Harold pulled me aside. I was still short of breath. "Can you see the green triangle on the old man's forehead?" He asked. I eyed at the old man. There was the eerie green triangle on his head like the one I had seen on the beach. I looked at Harold to ask for why.

"People who got poisoned by the Dark Lord's power will get that symbol on their forehead. If that person is poisoned, they will become her slaves. Like zombies."

"So, maybe some of the Dark Lord's power is leaked accidentally and released into the Pearl River. When the old man drank the polluted water from the Pearl River, he got poisoned..." No... It shouldn't be like this. The Dark Lord should be capable enough to withhold his power. " Or maybe... purposely." I said. Harold suddenly looked at me surprisingly. " the factory!" We both shouted. Luckily, no one heard us. Without hesitating, we headed directly to the Jiangmen Factory.

On the way to the factory, the environment was unbearable. The sky was grey, the air was stuffy, the trees were dying. The closer we got to factory, the more people were being marked with that green triangle. They were like the walking deads that I saw on TV. It was horrifying! Harold took my hand and held me closer. He whispered into my ears, " Hakuna matata, no matter where you are, I'll always be there for you."

Finally, we had arrived the Jiangmen factory. At first sight, I thought those were grey clouds surrounding the top of the factory. But then, I realized those were the smoke emitted from the chimneys. Every step we took was as heavy as if we had put on shoes made of metals. As we walked closer to the factory, we saw the polluted sewage were being released to the Pearl River water! The sewage was of dark green color with a choking odor which made me felt extremely nauseous. A snowy white pigeon intended to land on the water, but by the moment it touched the water surface, it died. Suddenly, I felt sorry and guilty to the old man, his grand-daughter and the poisoned people. And I was raged by the Dark Lord! My heart was sunken to the bottom of the valley. I thought of how the Dark Lord destroyed all the gifts that our Mother Nature gave us. Yet, I could only stand here and wept and did nothing.

"How dare you destroy the Mother Nature and the people's living environment! You! Dark Lord! I know you are in there. I am here to tell you that, today I am here to stop you from getting what you want!" All of theses are unacceptable. I shouted towards the factory.

"Oh, we have guests today, welcome to the cradle of the Dark Age! Grace, the legendary hero. " A woman wearing a red cloak appeared in front of the gate of the factory. Her face was covered that I couldn't see her clearly. However, one thing for sure, her voice was so familiar that I must know her.

Fiction: Group 4

" Couldn't you stop all these destructive measures! You are killing everyone!" The image of the old man's grand-daughter lying deadly in his embrace appeared in my mind.

" Hey, Grace, think about it. If we become allies, we'll definitely make a lot of money and build a stronger army. Who cares about the useless people there? Losers!" Dark Lord said.

"No! You're wrong. You're the sole loser! You destroyed our ecosystem! See the pigeon, it is killed due to your pollution! You polluted the air, the water, lands and even the joyful lives of the people!" I cried.

"I see... So you're not allying with me. In other words, you're my enemy. And I must kill you!" As the Dark Lord finished her say, she rose her hand and was about to kill me in one shot! I was so afraid and couldn't run away! I didn't want my life to end! Is this the end of my life? I closed my eyes and was waiting for the attack. However, nothing happened. I opened my eyes, and saw Harold lying weakly in front of me. “No! Harold! You're going to be alright!" He had sacrificed himself to protect me! “Grace, I am so glad that I can meet you. I am confident with our clan's prophecy, as you're the chosen one. Just believe in your feelings... The Dark Lord... has no mercy. By the way, Hakuna matata means no worries for the rest of your days and I promised to be with you like the stars following the moon..." I hold tight to his hand, trying to wake him up again, but he was as dead as a doornail. There was no more mercy for the Dark Lord. She had killed the person that changed my life! Then, all of a sudden, Harold had reminded me of the prophecy! "The girl who released the green triangle would defeat the Dark Lord."

I stood up, with courage this time. I took out the locket. " What... What are you doing!" The Dark Lord seemed to be frightened. As I opened the locket, the green triangle appeared in the air again and released a strong beam that killed the Dark Lord.

Phew! I collapsed. I went to the Dark Lord's lifeless body and uncover her cloak. It was Ms Chuang! She was the Dark Lord! Oh my God! I had killed my Chemistry teacher! By the time I uncover her cloak, things around me started to swirl that brought me up the sky. Among the clouds, I could see the Pearl River Delta was back to normal. But Harold was still lying deadly there. A teardrop fell on my cheek. In my heart, I whispered, " Harold, Hakuna Matata."

Now, looking at the sky, I couldn't help thinking of Harold, who saved me. Although he had left me, he had given me the courage and motivation to live on and the best adventure of my life.

Fiction: Group 4

A New Tale of the Pearl River Delta The Mission Covenant Church Holm Glad College, Ho, Tak Kin - 16,

Fiction: Group 4

nd, this is the time machine, or the probabilistic time travel device to be technical.

Remember, time travel won’t be comfortable, but it’s always enjoyable. Now Jake, are you ready for the journey?”

“All ready, Professor Cheung. I’ll see you once I’ve got my project finished!”

There goes Jake, a fresh 19-and-a-half-year old boy who has just finished his first semester at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, for the technologically advanced of the year 2314. With time travel

being a piece of highly developed technology, Professor Cheung, the person-in-charge for this first project, says every student joining the University may travel in time, allowing Jake to travel to the past as his method

of first-hand information collection. Jake lands in a spare room of the dormitory in the University, as if it is intended or scheduled.

Feeling nauseous and dizzy, Jake can barely take a glance on the calendar, on which “3rd February, 2017” is printed. Beside Jake is his portable computer, which can supply all his needs required for the project –

ranging from taking photographs, recording voice to organizing PowerPoint. Jake picks up the computer, stands up, turns the doorknob and walks out of the dimly lit, confined room, with the best hopes of

collecting useful resources for his project, entitled “The History of the Pearl River Delta”. Jake is fascinated by whatever that is in front of his eyes – a sparkling blue sky with fluffy white

clouds as the background of the scenery, luscious tress and the silhouette of a row of patrolling eagles decorating the campus. This is a rare sight from where Jake is from, at which environmental protection is

overridden by economic development, at which the sky is a dark grey with only the skyline of towering commercial structures barely visible through the blinding smog, at which birds are only seen in zoos.

Without anyone in sight, Jake takes a brief walk in the campus, snapping a number of photographs on his way at whatever he sees.

A poster catches Take’s attention when he walks past the Student Union Notice Board, on which details about an upcoming camping trip to Sai Kung are written. Jake stands there, thinking for a while, then

takes a bus to Sai Kung. With little but adequate equipment, Jake goes hiking in Sai Kung Country Park. When the sky turns dark, Jake returns to Sai Kung Town Centre in search for accommodation, with tons of

images of the wildlife in his portable computer. While dining in a seafood restaurant, Jake sees a piece of news on the television screen, entitled “Sun Yat-sen Statue demolished for Future Commercial Zone”. Jake

quickly notes it down in his digital schedule book. Early on the next day, Jake takes an express bus to Zhongshan. On route the bus traverses through

central business districts, industrial zones and densely packed residential buildings. Upon arrival at the construction site, the Statue is already half-shattered, with the parts below its waist intact but the rest in

pieces. Stunned by the scene, Jake stands motionless for a while, then leaves with, as usual, a few photos. Jake also visits a number of museums before eventually returning to the University, to that spare room that

he has landed in. “This should be enough for my project. Let me return to the future for further organization.”

Saying that, Jake jumps back into the wormhole that has been open since the very first moment he arrived. The hole closes in a blink and Jake is back to the future.

While Jake is skimming through the pictures and the scribbled notes he took in his room, Professor Cheung knocks on his door. Jake saves his documents, and opens the door.

“A

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Jake, I’ve received those voice samples you sent me previously. But even our linguistic experts are having trouble translating the dialect. Could you elaborate on the language more?” questioned Professor

Cheung. “The Chaozhou dialect? It used to be spoken widely throughout the Delta, but has become extinct

since the last speaker passed away 40 years ago, at the age of 94. I’ll explain more in my project, but in short, over a millennium back in time, the Chaozhou people from the north migrated to Guangdong, along with

other cultural groups like the Hakka. They, together, brought to the Delta a broad range of different yet harmonically coexisting cultures, in a state names cultural diversity." explained Jake.

“Hmm, this is a part of the matter we’re concerned about. Aside from the disappearing cultures, the environmental damage is also a consequence caused by irretrievable decisions people made in the past.

Although we sustain our reputation as the World’s Factory with our secondary industry and simultaneously developing tertiary industry under the influence of globalization, we’ve sacrificed a lot, culturally and

environmentally, to pay the price of the economic success nowadays… Hold on.” An incoming call breaks Professor Cheung's speech. After the brief conversation with several other

professors in the city, he continues. "Jake, may I assign you with a special task?"

"What kind of task, may I ask?" Jake is puzzled, but intrigued. "We've come to a consensus that someone has to change our history. It's a tough decision, but I'll

let you go, Jake. You may choose to travel back to the past to prevent these tragedies from happening. Don't worry, we've got everything backed up in case anything goes wrong. It's just an additional chance for

you to explore a little more." explains Professor Cheung. "Do you really mean that? I'm so excited that I have an opportunity to shine like a star in the night

sky! When shall I set off?" exclaims Jake. "Why not right now?" says Professor Cheung, starting up the probabilistic time travel device. With

a blinding bright flash of light Jake travels back to the past once again. "Let's hope this little kid does his best. We're all looking forward to your returning with success, Jake…" mumbles Professor Cheung.

Jake lands in that very same room in the dormitory, only feeling a little peculiar. He looks up at the same calendar, which is displaying "3rd February, 2016".

"Weird. Is it due to the probabilistic nature of the device that I end up one year before my last visit? Nevertheless, whatever that stands in my way cannot extinguish my ambition of bringing to our

descendants a brighter future!" Jake opens the door, only to see a crowd discussing. Driven by curiosity, Jake comes forward and listens closely.

"The Sun Yat-sen Statue… The Future Commercial Zone… Don't they sound familiar? Oh! That's what I've heard on the news and witnessed last time!" Jake runs off to the express bus station and zips

through the land to Zhongshan, except, he sees a completely different image. The Statue is left there unharmed from head to toe. Jake quickly searches on the Net and finds the governmental document related

to the demolition. He scrolls a little further, and comes across a notice entitled "Say No to Overdevelopment - Join Us Now!" Jake clicks the link.

"And this is a group of people against betting our culture and environment on economy like me? Perhaps I should have a talk with them?" Jake asks himself. He wires up a conversation with the Say No to

Overdevelopment Federation, who posted the notice. "Are you planning a protest? I think I can help…" For the following week, Jake and the Federation sit together discussing about their action. Jake and

Mr. Lee, leader of the Federation, decide to start the protest on the 12th of the month. Since then, protesters spread the message across the whole Delta like a wildfire, while Jake is among them shouting

slogans and waving banners. On the fourth day since the protests started, Jake receives a message from Professor Cheung. "The

wormhole with the destination time 3-2-2016 will expire within 24 hours. To avoid being trapped in the past, you must return as soon as possible. -- Professor Cheung." Jake, in the midst of the protests he

Fiction: Group 4

initiated, tells Mr. Lee about his impending return. "Don't worry. We'll finish it up and not disappoint anyone!" replies Mr. Lee.

Jake heads straight back to the wormhole and safely lands in the year 2314. Upon his returning, Professor Cheung grabs Jake's hands tightly. "Come, Jake. I've got something to show you." The two rush

towards the outdoor playground. When Jake sees the scenery in front of his eyes, he is left standing still, speechless as he hardly believes his eyes - a clear blue sky, an array of trees waving in a gentle breeze, and

two sparrows dancing on his head. "Jake, this is what you've done. If it weren't you that sparked the protests to abort the Central Government's controversial policies and urge it to agree not to damage our precious

environment, we wouldn't have this fabulous scenery…" says Professor Cheung, with a wide grin. "That's great, bur… what about the Statue?"

"The Sun Yat-sen Statue? It's experienced countless changes, but is still standing firm amid the flow of time…"

Suddenly, two men rush towards Jake and Professor Cheung. "We're figured out what those voice samples say!" exclaim them. Following it is a great flow of Jake's classmates cheering for his achievement.

One of the many shows Jake a video clip. "A historical hero that changed the fate of the Pearl River Delta… A fearless man that stood up

against a global disaster… A teenage boy with insurmountable bravery… His name… is Jake, the future human from the 24th century."

"Stop that! It's making me feel embarrassed!" says Jake, blushing and laughing, while newspaper articles and more records of the events are showing up in the crowd.

"Now isn't that an enjoyable scene to watch a young boy being praised for saving our precious Delta from its environmental and cultural crisis…" says Professor Cheung, laughing and watching beside the

crowd.

Fiction: Group 4

The Search of the Night Pearl True Light Middle School of Hong Kong, Lee, Yuen Kiu Michelle - 15,

Fiction: Group 4

Ch. 1

t was another peaceful and quiet night. Lights were scattered along Victoria Harbour. The light silver iFC building right across the harbour seemed to show its nobility among all skyscrapers with lights blooming from the building. The gorgeous scenery and the salty breeze of the

nighttime summer sea seemed to attract love birds to share their time near the shore. The warm night embraces residential apartments under Lion Rock with warm conversations between family members. People were listening and sharing thoughts to each other, and so did people in this house in To Kwa Wan. “Tales are spread throughout all places, but only the true stories will stay in people’s minds and hearts forever.” A lady with her face full of wrinkles was looking out the window, ready to tell a bedtime story to her favourite 5-year-old granddaughter. The little girl lied down on her own little bed, holding her teddy bear ready to get to sleep. The grandmother sat at the side of the bed, looking at her adorable granddaughter, and slowly started to tell the story, “Taizu Emperor was a beloved emperor in Song Dynasty. He loved his people and always thought and took care of their needs. The Pearl River Delta then was not developed, and people lived a simple and poor life. Most were not that happy back then. Though the emperor always stayed at the capital Linan, he sent many secret agents around the country to report the living conditions and standards of his people. After knowing about the complaints of his people, he decided that he had to do something to help his beloved citizens. He had a precious pearl which was said to be blessed by a powerful monk. The pearl would give out pale green lights when it’s put in the dark, and rumours were spread throughout the country saying that it contained the eyeballs of the dead emperor, Tang Taizong. I hope you don’t find it scary, honey. But the pearl healed the sick queen who nearly died after being stabbed, and she later on gave birth to the only king in history with green eyes. Taizu Emperor had the pearl put into the river surrounded by these poor villages, hoping that the pearl would let out magic powers to guard and help the people there. Now, these places along the Pearl River became modern and well-developed. Many people still attribute this to the Night Pearl, the emperor’s blessings. However, some say that the Night Pearl was already stolen away when the Japanese came to invade our country. No one knows the whereabouts of the pearl now, but we still believe that the Night Pearl is still guarding us, and the blessings of Taizu Emperor will never end.” The dark brown eyes of the little girl sparkled with confusion and mistrust. She crossed her arms, showing her dissatisfactionwith the story, “But who knows if it is true? It might have been made up by someone, or someone may have just misheard it.” The old lady let out a slight laugh. This girl was mature as compared to other children of the same age, “Well, as I have said, honey. Tales are spread throughout all places, but only the true stories will stay in people’s minds and hearts forever. The existence of the pearl only depends on your belief. If you really want to know more about it, just find it out yourself. Nothing beats seeing it with your own eyes.” The old woman replied while gently patting her head. The girl’s eyes suddenly glowed in the night. They were filled with excitement and the thirst to find out the truth. “I will find it out myself, I will!” The little girl silently made a promise to herself. The grandmother gave the young girl a kiss on the forehead and left her bedroom. Ch. 2 Beep! Beep! Beep! A white slender arm stretched out of the pink-and-yellow comforter and swept the alarm onto the ground, hitting the library books on Song Dynasty laying across the bedroom floor. Sunshine shed through the apertures of the curtains, putting a golden cover on the comforter and the black long hair scattered on the pillow. The person buried in the bed seemed to have no intention to get up or even wake up, until a woman burst into the room and ruined the rare silence in the morning. “Oh, come on, please, you’re still sleeping? Come on, get up now or you’ll be late for school!” The growl of the woman was as loud as thunder, yet it did not seem to bother the silhouette on the nice warm soft bed. The woman did not seem to be surprised this time. She took out a spray bottle from her back and

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sprayed water all over the heavy sleeper’s face. Bang! The body moved too vigorously and fell off the bed. “OK, mom, I’ll wake up now.” Quickly, Krystal cleaned herself up and rushed to school. Sunshine was beaming from the classroom window, giving the boy next to it a shining halo. The warm colour made a great match to his golden-bronze skin, and his slightly wet hair added a sense of sexiness to him. This is Henry, the boy who sat next to Krystal in class, also her best friend. After Krystal sat down, he suddenly came close to her ears and whispered with his deep voice, Krystal could smell that he had just had a shower after his morning athletic practice. “Hey, Krystal, do you know that two wells from the Song Dynasty was found in To Kwa Wan yesterday?” Henry interrupted Krystal’s thoughts, and then saw her eyes went wide open, shining with the desire to know more. Noticing that Krystal’s attention had been fully grabbed, Henry started telling her everything he knew, “The wells may be built between Song and Yuan Dynasty, yet mostly it was built in Song. These wells were believed to be built by farmers for easier watering of their crops. However, a remarkable point about the location was that it was located near to the Song Wong Toi, the place where the last Song emperor lost his life, announcing the end of the Song Dynasty…” Krystal was enchanted by Henry’s words, when Henry interrupted her imaginations. “Hey, ground control to Krystal. Hello?” Henry, smiling, tapped on her head gently. Krystal finally pulled herself back to reality before she got carried away by her thoughts again, “So, do you want to look at the wells with me today, girl obsessed with the Night Pearl?” “You’re teasing me again! You’re just as fascinated by the pearl as I am!” Krystal blushed. But she also quickly accepted Henry’s invitation. Even the simplest tool, like farming utilities and even the bricks for building houses in Song Dynasty could still steal away all her attention. Song Dynasty always seemed to be hypnotic to her, she just couldn’t stop herself from being obsessed with knowing more about the period. After school, Krystal and Henry went to the site together. They went close to the wells but many barricades were surrounding them, blocking their views and nothing could be seen through the thick protection walls. A bright orange tent was set right next to the site, and people carrying professional gadgets were walking in and out of it. “So they must be the archaeologists for this project,” Krystal thought to herself. Ch. 3 Suddenly, Krystal noticed that one of them wearing a blue jumpsuit, probably the leading archaeologist shown by his different suit, holding a pile of white paper and walked out of the tent. His footsteps were staggering as he was holding so many documents in his hands. A policeman saw them, “Hey! What are the two of you doing here? Get out!” He was running towards Krystal and Henry. As they tried to run away, the bumped into the man in the blue jumpsuit and everything he was holding was flying everywhere. Noticing the chaos over there, Henry and Krystal rushed over to help him. Both of them tried to gather the scattering paper, and Krystal gave the whole pile she got to Henry before she went to gather the digging tools. When Henry was holding the paper for the archaeologist, he quickly scanned through the documents, and saw that all the information was about – the Night Pearl! “Hey! You guys shouldn’t be here! The historical research we are doing is very important. GET OUT NOW!” yelled the policeman. Henry ignored the man but continued to read the documents until they were snatched them away from Henry’s hands by the archaeologist. Krystal quickly picked up the paper and return it to the archaeologist before she and Henry were escorted away by the policeman. Disappointedly, Henry walked Krystal home. They didn’t talk because thousands of thoughts were popping in their heads, and most of them related to the depression caused by not being able to see the wells. Krystal’s eyes were full of sadness, and tears were starting to form in those beautiful brown eyes. Henry noticed them and gave her a hug in the street. The two shadows were reflected along the path with the accompaniment of the beautiful sunset, and Henry suddenly made a decision.

Fiction: Group 4

Before Krystal entered her building, Henry suddenly spoke up, “Do you think we can find the Night Pearl by ourselves?” Krystal stopped and her eyes now glittered with unbelievable rays. “What… What are you talking about?” “Just trust me, okay?” Krystal had many a time dreamt of finding the Night Pearl with Henry, and had never been able to decide in her mind whether it would be a timeless adventure with romantic scenes or a chick flick with an adventurous plot. Did he just suggest actually making her dream a reality? Henry said bye, trying not to show that he was also captivated by the story of the magical pearl. Krystal barely slept at night, overwhelmed by the news that she could find the pearl, not by herself but with Henry. Ch.4 The next day was Saturday, Krystal and Henry woke up early in the morning and went to a coffee shop nearby to discuss their following plans. Henry took out a pile of paper from his backpack and showed them to Krystal. Krystal had a familiar feeling about the documents, as if they were… the research of the archaeologist they met yesterday! “Are you crazy? How could you steal the research of the historians?” Krystal burst with surprise, and all the customers in the coffee shop were looking at them. “Sh… can you speak a little softer? I did this only for you, Krystal. I know that you’ve been dying to know where the Night Pearl is! We will never be able to find the Night Pearl without these materials. Well, I wasn’t able to put all the documents into my bag quick enough but at least we’re closer to the pearl than we ever was!” Henry whispered. Krystal’s face was written with unwillingness, yet she did not oppose to the plan again. Krystal started flipping through the paper that she did not read last time, and you could tell how fascinated she was by her expressions. Henry focused on searching for information about the wells in To Kwa Wan, as something the connection between the Night Pearl and the wells were still rather blurry. Both of them made many suggestions and hypothesis about the connections, and none of them seemed to be the real reason. “Hey! Think about this!’ Henry’s hopeful voice startled Krystal, who looked up from the rim of the documents. “Before the death of the last emperor in Song Dynasty, he came to Hong Kong for refuge, right? Well, the last prime minister decided to commit suicide with the young king, and there ended the Song Dynasty.” “Well, yes. We all know this part of the history. What’s your point?” “Now, here this document says that one of the loyal guards who followed them said that he saw them going to a small farming village and left a particular something there. Well, the guard did not mention what it was, but looked what I’ve found…” Henry turned the computer to Krystal showing a map of To Kwa Wan and Song Wong Toi. These two places were just 950 meters away, which means that the king and the prime minister could have gone to the village of where the wells were! This prediction immediately formed in Krystal’s mind, and her eyes were dazzling with determination. “We WILL find the lost Night Pearl!” Krystal promised Henry, and herself. Early next morning at 2, Krystal and Henry met outside the coffee shop. The moon seemed to be hiding, making the street dark and extra creepy. Gentle wind blew across the street, and fallen leaves were revolving the trees nearby. There was no one to be seen on the street, the whole world seemed to be asleep. The two crossed the police cordon and secretly tip toed into the site. There was no police or historian. A guard near the wells was dozing off. It was as if nobody knew about the pearl.

They knocked on the bricks on the well the top of the two wells, looking for the special one they were looking for. From the documents, and most probably there should be a hidden part inside the specific well. The bricks surrounding the well seemed like a reasonable place to hide a click to them. Up till this stage, they had to try anything they can. Suddenly, Krystal knocked on a brick and it let out a noise extraordinarily loud compared to others. Henry quickly went over and they took out the brick together. A small wooden click then appeared in front of them, and Henry gently pushed it. A door appeared near the bottom of the well. “Bingo!” Henry whispered, and the two of them abseiled down the well.

Fiction: Group 4

Ch.5 Opening the hidden door, they arrived at a chamber with tunnels at many different directions. It would be too time-consuming if they searched it one by one so they decided to search the tunnels separately. Krystal could feel her hands sweating like a tap. Her body was trembling due to her excitement and the feeling of unpacking a mysterious gift. With her torch on, she entered the first tunnel, then the second, and all the way onwards. Yet, nothing was found. She sadly went out of the last tunnel and went back to the main chamber. She saw Henry standing there and he seemed to be quite disappointed too. “Have you found anything?” Henry asked, his eyes were filled with hope but it went out when he saw the same expression on Krystal’s face. “It’s okay. At least we tried our best,” Henry tried to comfort Krystal, giving her a squeeze on her sweaty hands. Krystal and Henry climbed up the well, neither speaking a word. “We were so close to finding it!” said Krystal, “I’m sure it’s somewhere inside, but… I…” Krystal had never been so upset before. She could always find a way to make herself happy when she was facing challenges and obstacles before, but this time, she just couldn’t. “It’s okay,” Henry responded, “We worked so hard together and we learned a lot while doing the research. This is already enough for me. Besides, I don’t actually think Night Pearl has the power that makes the Pearl River Delta region it is today. I believe it’s the people in the region who work hard that make the Pearl River Delta region as we know it.” Krystal remained silent for a while, “Maybe you’re right.” She finally replied, “At least I did learn a lot. I guess having the pearl or not at last do not really matter then.” It was near sunrise. The two friends chatted as Henry walked Krystal home again. Krystal dragged weary body into her bed. Covering herself with the pink-and-yellow comforter blocking the rays from the rising sun, she started asking herself whether what she experienced just now had only been one of those many adventure-romance dreams starring her and Henry she had dreamt. As Krystal’s thoughts slowly took her into sleep, a particular pearl glimmered and ghostly pale green light gleamed out of Henry’s backpack.

Fiction: Group 4

Memories Returned by Moonlight West Island School, Chen, Serena - 14, Fiction: Group 4

he was about a year old when we found her, stranded, and alone in the moonlit night. It feels so long since then, but I still remember the first feature that caught my attention when I saw her, her eyes. They were crystal blue, almost an indigo shade, and lined with deep silver. Her coat, though covered

in dirt and grime, was a beautiful shade of white, almost illuminating the dark night. I remember my grandmother tugging at my sleeve, telling me that we needed to go, but there was something about her. Maybe it was her eyes, watching me curiously, insistently, which made me want to stay. Stray dogs were a common sight in my village, victims of people who didn’t have the heart to look after them any more. But even though, I didn’t believe I had ever seen this stray before. However, there was something oddly familiar about her flawless white fur as it flowed in the soft evening breeze. “Hailey,” grandmother’s voice called me back to reality. Sighing, I followed her towards the road home. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of white. The movement was so graceful it seemed she was flying, before vanishing into the night. ‘Mom’ and ‘dad’ are two words that haven’t passed my lips for many years. For as long as I let my memory take me, my grandparents have been the ones who had raised me, took care of me, and gave me the love closest to parenthood. I was never told much about my parents. Only that they were both killed in a car accident when I was still young. Grandfather worries about me sometimes. I’ve never been very social, a home-schooled child who spends most of her time alone. But loneliness has never bothered me too much. It has become a big part of me, a part where love and trust used to be. When I’m alone, I get more time to think. Reading has always been a hobby of mine. The stories captured so delicately in hundreds of pages are fascinating to me. I've read about characters with lifestyles so different from my own, where the people have real families, and friends, and of course, the happy ending that I never had. When I was younger, my grandfather used to tell me many captivating stories and legends of a sacred river. Tales of mythical creatures once believed to have roamed these lands, but I can’t imagine them taking place now. Our little town sits at the very edge of Zhujiang Delta in the Guangdong province of China. Small, and so left unmarked on most maps. However, size has never held our province behind. Over the years, I’ve seen change, even in my little village. People say that foreign influence is developing rapidly and will continue to expand. Nevertheless, our traditional legends never change. I’ve always heard stories about the mysterious secrets the Pearl River might hold, and though we live near, I have never actually travelled close myself. Grandfather never saw much point in taking me. ‘A muddy, old river,’ he described it as. As of being a good, traditional family girl, I never speak by to my elders. But deep inside, I felt he was wrong. Through my bedroom window I could see the luminous waters in the distance, sparkling and flashing in the mid-day sun, as if threaded with silver beads. Travellers, tourists and fisherman have crowded the shores with boats. A few were docked just slightly further in the tides, the waves crashing lightly on their wooden decks. Pearl River Delta is mass in size and stretches far into the north and east. An incredible sum of the three smaller rivers it is made up of. The stories always said that a time at Pearl River might help you discover yourself. Its tides can capture your memories and lead you in the direction you’re supposed to go. Magical, and though they are only myths, I often find myself dreaming about going there when I feel lost. Instead, in those lonely times, I would hide in my bed and let myself cry, hugging a small pillow that my mother had once made for me. Sadly, it’s the last thing I have left of her. I didn’t know my parents for long before they died, but it still hurts. It’s left a wound that can’t be seen, only felt, and it’s a wound that never healed. The night I first saw the stray, I lay awake in my bed for hours. But listening to the quiet tick-tick of the clock only made me more restless. I thought about the way she had stared at me, the curious look in her eyes had made her look strong yet vulnerable at the same time. Strangely, it felt like I had seen her before, but I was sure that I never had. The clocked kept ticking and the minutes flickered by. Eventually, I let the sound soothe me. Soon, my eyes closed as I fell into light, shallow sleep. At first, I thought I was dreaming, but I must have been woken a scratching noise outside my window. A moment later, I passed it off as rain falling on my windowpane. Nevertheless, something wasn’t right. The noise continued, and I finally sat up in my bed, squinting in the darkness. Outside my window, everything was still dim, only lit by streetlights and the gleaming light from the moon. The river looked mystical under the clear, bright moon, areas that were lighted seemed to glisten like silver pearls. Suddenly, a large figure

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emerged from the shadows. I couldn’t tell what or who it was, but its sharp eyes seemed to glow in night. They searched until they found my window, cutting through the glass, until finally locking their sight on me. I froze. Someone, or something was watching me. My heart was thumping in my ears. Its eyes didn’t move away from my face, and I was forced to stare back. I braced myself, expecting to see a menacing reaction, but it never came. Instead, I found myself staring into crystal blue, a deep but soft gaze. I exhaled. It was the stray dog I had seen earlier that evening. She must have followed me home. I don’t know why I felt a sudden sigh of relief. Street dogs could also be dangerous, if not handled properly. But this one was different. I could feel it. My regular village room, like many others, was road-level, and so left me exposed. Somehow I wasn’t worried. The wooden floor felt cold under my bare feet as I walked towards the window. This was crazy and I knew it. Cautiously, I pushed the window open. Wind blew strands of hair into my face, but I didn’t care. I stared at the stray, and she stared back, neither one of us moving. Above our heads, the brilliant white moon shone, its light reflecting against the dog’s flawless coat, just as it did on Pearl River Delta. She looked almost ghostly. Her eyes were wide and insistent. Beautiful. In that moment, she got her name. Named in honour of the bright, breath-taking moon and the great Pearl River of China; Yue. Winning a stray animal’s trust is never an easy task, but I was patient. We worked together for hours, days. I tempted her with food. Sometimes we would get close, but still never touched. My window was the barrier between us, protecting me, protecting her. Something that surprised me was that, through it all, she chose to stay. Yue never roamed far, usually only wandering off to a nearby fountain or stream for water. She slept under my window and ate on my lawn. I was careful to keep her out of my grandparents’ sight. Their scolding and punishments for me if they found out were something I was less prepared for than Yue’s training. Grandmother would never approve. She despises animals, saying they were filthy and wild. Luckily, she and grandfather were out in the market that day. Yue improved fast, and I was glad she seemed to like me. She was still wary, but came when I called and seemed happy to see me in the morning. Maybe it was time she learned she didn’t have to fear me. For the first time, I reached outside the glass wall that split us apart and called to her. Hesitantly, she approached me. For a while, we just stared at each other, like we always did. I spoke softly to her, not knowing if she understood my words. “I won’t hurt you,” I told her gently. Instead of coming closer, she took a few steps back. I sighed and drew my hand back in. Without warning, I saw a flash of white fly through my window. I stumbled back, shocked and horrified. Yue scanned my room with her blue eyes. She didn’t look afraid anymore, but happy and well in control. A part of me was stunned and speechless, but another part felt a surge of excitement and pride. A huge grin broke onto my face. I let myself laugh, because it’s been too long. Yue nudged me with her shoulder, pushing me back, towards my bookshelf. She looked annoyed, as if she was trying to shove herself into a space that was too small for her. My regular village room was not made for a giant dog to play in. “Yue,” I grumbled. “Cut it out.” But she didn’t stop. She pushed me again, and I finally lost my balance. I tried to grab the bookshelf for support but my hand landed on an old book instead, pulling it down with me. A pile of books came tumbling down after that, old novels and hardbacks that I haven’t touched in years, all covered in dust and grime. “Now look what you’ve done,” I said angrily, dusting myself off. Yue stared at me calmly before touching one of the books with her nose. Curiously, I bent down to pick it up. As I did, something fell out of it. It was an old photo. I grabbed it and sat on my bed. My eyes closed, I didn’t have to look at it to know what it was. A warm tear slid down my cheek. I didn’t let myself remember the day my family took that photo. It was the last photo I ever took with my parents. My eyes opened. Yue sat beside me. “How did you know?” I whispered. She watched me with soft, understanding eyes. Then, a question formed in my mind; so obvious I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it earlier. I reached over to pet Yue’s head, and she leaned into my palm. “Where did you come from?” I asked her softly, though I knew the answer. She had no family, no house, no place to call home. As if she knew, she stared at me gently, her eyes wide and aware. Maybe her parents died too. Maybe she knew about mine. I smiled. We could be each other’s family. We understood each other. We were the same. Since that day, Yue and I stayed close. I built her a small shed behind our house so she could keep warm on windy days, but covered it when she wasn’t using it. Our relationship stayed secret, because I knew that it grandmother ever found out she would never let me keep her. Each day, I would wake early to see Yue and feed her. One morning, grandfather caught me before I bolted out the door. “Where are you going in such a hurry?” he asked in his husky voice. “I-uh got something to do,” I stuttered.

Fiction: Group 4

“You’ve been running out a lot lately,” grandmother called from the dining room, frowning. “I’ve just been busy okay?” I said impatiently. “We are in charge of you Hailey, we have the right to know where you’re going,” her fist hit the table. “You’re parents would not have let us raise you to be reckless and irresponsible.” “I am not reckless, and leave my parents out of this!” I shouted. I felt tears in my eyes but I didn’t know why they were there. “You have no idea what I’ve been going through these past few years. You never asked. You never cared!” “Hailey! Of course we care, but you never let us help. Its been so long since the last time we’ve acted like a true family,” grandfather said. He spoke quietly, but I would rather have heard him yell. I didn’t want to hear anymore, I didn’t want to remember when the last time was. Without responding, I ran out the door and didn’t look back. Yue caught up with me soon after, knowing I was upset, and it didn’t take me long to realize she was leading me somewhere. The blocks and traffic lights seemed to race by. As we approached a clearing, sweat trickled down my neck and I heard a roar of moving water. Struggling to catch my breath, I looked up. A small creak sat in front of me, clear water running smoothly down to the massive river around the clearing. Yue had taken me to a part of Pearl River Delta. I was exhausted, but Yue seemed full of energy as she continued to run down a lane of small rocks. She was beautiful, graceful, and free. Stunning, was the word to describe the view. I could have never imagined Pearl River to be so big, its waters so deep, and its surface to be so enchanting. People walked along the coast, calm and happy. I wish I could feel the way they did. A narrow road linked a few of the docks together. Grandmother would have been worried. I wouldn’t blame her if she were mad at me. I must have sat there for hours, watching Yue play, thinking about going home, feeling lost and confused. Suddenly, a fisherman hauling a huge bags of ice in a cart passed by. His cart hit a rock and toppled over, the bags tumbled onto the road. Quickly, I ran over to help him tidy up. The bags were wet and cold, my arms felt sore as the last bag was heaved back onto the cart. Yue had returned to my side by then. She didn’t seem nervous around the fisherman, as she usually did with strangers. “Thank you,” the man said gratefully. “And that’s a beautiful dog you have there.” I nodded. “Wait,” he called as I turned to walk away. “I recognize you, you’re Zhuli and David’s daughter aren’t you?” I stopped. I spun back, shocked. “I’m sorry,” the fisherman continued, “You’re parents’ were good friends of mine. Your father was my best customer. He was very fond of my family’s ricecakes.” He sat down on one of the rocks and patted the one next to him. I sat next to him. “Yeah, he was,” I winced at the memory. Yue pressed her large head on my shoulder, her fur tickling my collarbone. She was warm. I let her comfort me. “It must be hard,” the fisherman said sympathetically. I said nothing. “I’ll tell you a secret.” I looked at him, puzzled. “See this creek?” he pointed at the calm waters. “It may be only the smallest fragment of so many larger tides, but its small waves travel in great in numbers, and make up a great river.” I was still confused. The fisherman smiled and explained, “every day we may see things that remind us of things we’ve lost, things we’ve loved, and things we think are gone. It will always be hard, but remember this; Our memories are only reminding us that they’re not gone, that they are still connected to us, just as so many smaller streams are connected to Pearl River Delta.” I understood now, and smiled back. “Thank you,” I said. “Think openly about your surroundings Hailey. They may hold more than you think,” he winked. “There are reasons behind the legends of Pearl River.” He placed his hand on Yue’s head briefly. “Goodbye Yue. Take good care of your friend.” I wondered how he knew Yue’s name, I was sure I hadn’t mentioned it. But before I could ask, he spoke again. “Remember Hailey, you will need your friends and family to help fill the blanks that your parents’ had left. There are some battles that you don’t have to fight alone.” With that, he walked away. Under my feet, the soft, cool ripples sprayed my ankles as I stared into crystal waters. The fisherman was right. I’m not alone. I have my grandparents and old friends I had once blocked out of my life. And now, I have Yue. The man was also right about the river. It is clever, with the waves locked in an everlasting cycle: Stream to river to ocean, up the mountain and back to the stream again. The water adapts but never forgets, and at the time when it’s ready again, it will flow home. As will I.

Fiction: Group 4

The Unsung Hero of the Pearl River Delta West Island School, Ng, Debbie - 15, Fiction: Group 4

Chapter 1 Guangzhou, 2014

he was like the wind – strong and steadfast in her resolve but delicate and intricate at heart. Nonetheless, she was as stubborn as a bull and when she came to a conclusion, she would stick to it. I guess that’s one of the things that I both loved and hated about her. It’s also one of her

oddities that allowed million others and my life to be saved. We owe the world, the stars, and our prospective children to her. A eulogy is hardly going to do her justice but in this fleeting moment, it’s all I can do to honor her existence. My name is Yan, and I am proud to say that Scarlett was my sister.”

Chapter 2

Hong Kong, 2013 Scarlett giggled to herself as she deftly scaled the walls of the alleyway, the hazel strands of her hair cascading behind her. “There’s no way that Yan can find me from all the way up here.” She thought to herself. Content with the distance she had covered, she carefully perched onto the side of the wall, swinging her feet to and fro. A slight breeze could be felt; the bristle of tree leaves creating a placid-like tempo. From her vantage point Scarlett could discern the typical houses - mortar bricks with the traditional gabled roof - of the Tai Tseng village and the intricate passages snaking in & out throughout the whole district. She could faintly make out the tiny figures of children playing badminton, along with the exuberant screams and cackles of laughter. An inviting whiff of Grandma’s renowned dumpling recipe wafted into her nose, causing her stomach to growl. That was the only indication she needed to know she should be heading back. Taking a last wavering look at the ancestral kingdom that she called home, she started to set back with the soothing hum of the city alongside her. Hong Kong had never felt better. “Where’d you go? I was trying to find you for 10 minutes!” Asked Yan, spotting Scarlett and running up to her. Both Yan and Scarlett were orphans – their parents had died in a car crash. Grandma Wei had therefore taken them in as sisters; they found consolation in meeting each other and bonded almost instantly. At the ripe age of nineteen, both Scarlett and Yan were maturing into responsible individuals. As the elders liked to say, they were attached at the hip, making even the most resemblant of twins look mediocre in comparison. “You’re just incredibly bad at hide and seek… Plus, you won the last time we played so it’s a fair win. But man, who knew a round of hide and seek could actually fare as exercise – I’m starving!” Scarlett grimaced as her stomach rumbled once more, sending bouts of emptiness up her body. “You can smell the dumplings too, can’t you? Come on, let’s go. Wouldn’t want Grandma Wei to start reprimanding us about the Chinese protocols for dinner would we? Oh god, even thinking about it makes me want to doze off. The Chinese Gods will strike down on us? Pfft, what a load of malarkey!” Hand in hand, Yan and Scarlett headed towards their house and down the footpath they had grown so accustomed to as kids. By the time they arrived home Grandma Wei was already setting out the customary Chinese plates, with engravings of exquisitely meticulous flower patterns etched onto them. Sunlight showered the room; accentuating the harsh lines of her forehead and her grey, silver even, tendrils of hair. “It’s about time you arrived! The jiaozi (Chinese dumplings) were getting cold. You know how much I hate tardiness. Both of you go fetch the dumplings, I expect you to carry your weight in this family.” “Mmm…. This has got to be the best batch of dumplings you’ve ever made.” Scarlett licked her lips, savoring the delectable flavor of the vinaigrette, a perfect mixture of sweet and sour. Sitting across from her on their round, wooden table, Yan nodded her agreement, too engrossed with the soap opera playing on the

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Fiction: Group 4

television to respond. Suddenly, without warning, the television screen cut from the shot of a woman sobbing to a ‘Breaking News’ newsreel. The familiar introduction of the ‘TVB News Company’ could be seen followed by a somber looking news reporter staring grimly into the camera. Scarlett looked around the table, first at Grandma Wei then at Yan, baffled as to what was so serious it required the delay of a regular TV show. “A rare parasitic virus has hit the very heart of Macau, situated on the west side of the Pearl River Delta. The examination of this virus is still ongoing but victims have suffered internal bleeding along with the slow impairment of the kidney. Almost 200,000 people have been infected with 200 already dead. Scientists are doing the best they can to figure out a cure but this virus is a malignant one, and has contaminated us out of nowhere; they predict that it will spread very quickly, most likely through the air of Macau. Although Macau’s neighboring city, Hong Kong, has shown no signs of this epidemic, it is advised that everyone stay home for the next few days as a safety precaution. Mary-Jane Ng, reporting for TVB News.” Scarlett and Yan’s eyes broke away from the television as they heard the sound of porcelain plates being shattered into smithereens. Grandma Wei’s face had turned a sickly pale and her lips were now quivering in apprehensiveness. “What is it Grandma? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Scarlett had a look of concern stamped across her face. “I… I don’t know if I should say. It would kill you.” “Just say it for gods sake, it’s not like we’ll be leaving any time soon.” Stated Yan. “Scarlett, when you and Yan came to my door it was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I could finally become a mother, and I just want you to know that I wouldn’t change anything. I love both of you girls with all my heart and I know you won’t want to talk to me after this but,” Grandma Wei paused, on the brink of stopping but deciding not to. “Scarlett? You’re not an orphan. Your parents didn’t die in a car accident like Yan’s. They’re still alive – they live in Macau. Your mum is Xi-Jiang Long and your dad Wei-Tse Long.” Scarlett’s line of sight wavered for a brief moment, the room spinning in a blur of emotions. Angry, heartbroken, sad, happy, the list went on and Scarlett was at loss for what to feel, how to comprehend the situation. “Please don’t beat yourself up about it. I can’t imagine anyone who’d want to leave you, they’re just incredibly stupid and don’t know a jewel when they see one. I just wanted you to know because of the epidemic that’s hit Macau. If they were to die before you knew about them, I’d feel terribly guilty. It’s your right to know who they are.” Yan put her arms around Scarlett, in an attempt to give her solace, while Scarlett ran her fingers through her hair, trying to hold up the weight that had been dropped upon her shoulders. “Thank you for telling me Grandma Wei. I know you mean the best but if it’s alright with you, may I be excused?” Grandma Wei nodded, knowing that words were superfluous and Scarlett needed all the space she could get. “Should I go see them? Are they alright? What if the virus has already gotten to them and they’re already dead? What if they don’t want to see me?” Questions raced through Scarlett’s mind as she lay on her bed, staring up at the vacant ceiling. It was questions like these, which finally caused her to doze off, a land away from her troubles. “Scarlett… Scarlet… Scarlet…” A sonorous voice resonated throughout the room, causing Scarlett to wake in a frenzy. She shrieked. At the front of her bed was a cloud-like figure with a wrinkled face of a Chinese deity. His eyes were perfectly round and the most prominent feature on his face was his long and wispy moustache. “You have to go. Now. While the lives of Macau can be saved, including your parents. This may be the only chance you can get to see them.” He was the perfectly chiseled notion of a God, floating upon what seemed to be a cloud with the outline of his body somewhat obscure. “Hold up. Who are you? How do you know so much about me? Why do you want me to do this job? It’s not like I have super powers or anything.” “Can’t you tell? I’m a Chinese God. There’ve been generations of rubbish Chinese myths about me, so I won’t bother with my name. All you need to know is that you’ve been chosen to do this whole saving the

Fiction: Group 4

earth thing. No particular reason, just that you were there at the right time and you just so happen to have a very valid reason to – to meet your parents. Better to have some kid with willpower and purpose do the job than some random kid off the streets, right?” “That’s some pretty strong conviction. How do you know I won’t just turn you down? And how do you expect me to stop a virus that even professionals haven’t found the cure to?” “All you have to do is go to the Pearl River and collect the pearls there; they have a special healing power when ingested. It isn’t hard at all. And I know you won’t turn down the job - it’s not in you.” “How will I know where to find the pearls? The Pearl River’s massive.” “Just remember, looks fade but in the essence of it all, character remains.” Before Scarlett could respond to the seemingly futile phrase, the deity disappeared in a flurry of smoke. Although the concept of rejection didn’t appeal to her, Scarlett knew turning down the job would be a waste of a perfect opportunity to meet her parents. Making her mind up, she started to pack everything she’d need into her satchel. She wouldn’t need much – the Pearl River was only a 20-minute trek away and Macau a mere 30 minutes on ferry. Scarlett knew Grandma Wei would do everything in her power to stop her from going so she left her a note instead and went in to Yan’s room to explain everything. “Yan! Yan, wake up!” She shook her awake as Yan started to groan. “What? Go back to bed, I’m tired.” “I’m going to see my parents.” Yan’s eyes widened in disbelief and her jaw dropped in awe. Before she could say anything, Scarlett started to explain everything from scratch. “How do you even know that wasn’t just a dream?” “Well, it’s better than doing nothing. What’s the worse that could happen?” “Uh, you catch the virus yourself? You’re walking yourself straight to your deathbed! You can’t go. I won’t let you.” “You know me well enough to know that nothing you say or do can stop me.” “Fine. But get a pearl or whatever it is for yourself too – I don’t want you dying on me.” Exchanging their goodbyes, both sisters hugged each other and Scarlett set off. Even at night, the Pearl River was teeming with life, the crickets chirping concomitantly and the birds tweeting transcendently amongst each other. Everything was at odds to how Scarlett felt. Standing on the shore of the river, she let the granules of sand seep through the cracks of her toes. How could the world be so tranquil, so calm, whilst her whole life was in turmoil? She scanned the horizons, noting the distinguishable skyline of Macau, but to no avail, the pearls that the God had deemed ‘easy’ to find were nowhere to be seen. “Looks fade but in the essence of it all, character remains.” The phrase incessantly crossed Scarlett’s mind but gave her no indication as to where the pearls were. “Ugh! Why did I even come here? This is stupid, there’s no such thing as pearls with healing powers.” Blind with rage, she kicked a shell against the trunk of a tree, expecting it to bounce right back. To her bewilderment, the shell cracked in half, allowing a miniature-sized ball no bigger than a pollen grain to slide out. Light coruscated off of it, its sparkle scintillating into the jet-black night. Scarlett yelped in astonishment. Suddenly, it hit her. “Looks fade but character remains. The God was referring to the shell!” From the outside, the shell looked nondescript with hues of greyish undertones but encased within it was the jewel of the sea. Wading into the river, Scarlett peered through the water catching a glimpse of the seabed, covered with a cornucopia of shells. Acting swiftly, she picked up three pearls and conjured up a plan to notify the officials of Macau. Scarlett took a deep breath and looked towards the glistening lights of Macau, preparing herself for the journey ahead.

Chapter 3 Macau, 2013 Upon stepping off of the ferry and entering Macau, Scarlett could already feel something amiss. It was still dark out and the atmosphere could only be described as melancholic. The air was heavy with sorrow and the clinical scent of anesthetics. She hurried along, shielding her face with a mask so as not to breathe in the air. ’52 Shanghai Street, Building 1A’ read the scrap of paper which the God had given her. After a lengthy

Fiction: Group 4

amount of time locating the street, she found the building and cautiously prowled into the apartment. It was like any other apartment, elegantly furnished with wood. But this was of no significance to Scarlett. Instead, treading carefully, she headed into what looked like her parent’s bedroom. Both were asleep and her immediate reaction was one of revelation. Lying side by side, she could see that her mother was significantly smaller-boned just like herself. The resemblance was uncanny. Her hair was a tint of hazel albeit she had wavier hair and her eyes were shockingly brown just like Scarlett’s. Though Scarlett had her mother’s eyes, her facial features could only be attributable to her father. His strong cheekbones accentuated the chiseled structure of his face, and his eyelashes were reminiscent of that of a giraffe’s. They looked so peaceful that Scarlett was unsure as to whether she should rouse them from their slumber. “What should I say? I don’t even know what I should call them. They did dump me onto the streets, so why would they want to see me? I don’t want them to feel indebted to me after I save their lives; I want to earn their love.” Oblivious of her surroundings, Scarlett choked when she realized the Chinese God had manifested himself out of nowhere. “Scarlett. I lied. The success of this job is contingent on one paramount phenomenon.” “And what is that, o mighty God?” Scarlett suppressed a laugh; surprised she was able to come up with such a snide remark. “A phenomenon where, you must die whilst ingesting the pearl. The pearl’s healing powers will only work when one sacrifices themselves for the greater good.” The response that he was expecting didn’t come. Scarlett had grown so accustomed to his far-fetched ideals that she no longer processed what he said. “What? Are you crazy? I’m not going to die for you.” “It’s not for me. It’s for your parents, for the preservation of your humanity. Today, you may choose to ignore my message, to go on and live your own life. I assure you, nothing bad will come of your decision. But if you do go on to save your parents, the lives of your fellow citizens, your name will be the unsung hero of this generation. Your sacrifice won’t be known in all corners of the world, but you Scarlett Long, you will be leading this procreation of humans into an era of luminosity, whether people acknowledge it or not. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. I only hope that you heed my words and choose what you think is right.” Scarlett trembled under her knees. Everything was coming at her at incredible speed and all she could do was allow the God’s words to roll over her, every syllable shaping her into a newfound individual. While she was aware that her life was certainly irrelevant in the whole scheme of things, she was hesitant about leaving her whole life behind. How would Grandma Wei and Yan cope without her? Was she really willing to sacrifice her existence? It was at this moment that Scarlett noticed her parents stirring. Her eyes scanned over the humans that had heartlessly dumped her onto the streets – rage started to build inside her. How dare they lose faith in her, how dare they lose sight of hope, how dare they turn their backs on her. Turning her back on them would simply mean that she’d be destined to repeat their mistakes; Scarlett wouldn’t let that happen. Her compassion would allow her to rise above that threshold and come out as a better, and stronger person. It was then, that a blinding radiance of light filtered into all corners of the room; light, that is, which overcame the darkness.

Chapter 4 Guangzhou, 2014 “Countless generations of humans have encountered champions, but it is the unsung heroes that challenge our boundaries and act upon altruism who are truly champions. So I urge you, go find your compassion, your humanity, your inner unsung hero – Scarlett was just one of the Pearl River Delta. Let us raise our glasses to Scarlett Long and may she eternally rest in peace.”

Fiction: Group 4

A Shadow's Dance YMCA of Hong Kong Christian College, Harling, Ryan - 15, Fiction: Group 4

heng rounded a corner. “Why is he always doing this?” Thought Tai “Why is going to the playground never as straightforward as it sounds?”

Tai stood huddled against the wall, elevated on the doorstep of a shop to avoid the flood of people going by. He seemed rather out of place as a young boy in school uniform without a maid or mother by his side on the busy streets of Mongkok during the day. Although no one gave him a second glance, all the while Zheng was gone he worried someone might ask him why he was there and not at school, for he wasn't too sure himself. Tai observed the familiar street, and the more he observed the more he disliked it. The people going by all seemed to have faces made of porcelain, unchanging as if he was inspecting a conveyor belt. The shops all sold the same meaningless overpriced wares as well. Not to mention that around here it smelt of sewers. After ten minutes of increasing apprehension, heightened with the constant craze of activity surrounding him, Tai caught sight of his face and almost sighed in relief. But as he approached with a quickened pace, Tai noticed he seemed to have a very serious look on his face. Anxiety instinctively wriggled in his stomach. Something was not right. Zheng came, mumbled something, then carried on walking past Tai. Happy to finally leave that place but annoyed yet again for the lack of explanation, Tai hurried on behind his brother. What on earth was going on? This still wasn't even the right way to the playground. Dodging the people that continually arrived not two inches in front of his face, Tai eventually caught up with Zheng. “Hey, what’s going on? And where are we going? You know this isn’t the way to the playground right?” Tai realised he had asked too many questions and to confirm it, Zheng looked at him the way he does. Tai then remained quiet but grieved over how he didn't take the opportunity to ask to stop for a snack. It was past one and he hadn’t eaten still. The small amount of lunch money was somewhere on Zheng as well of course. Not long after realising they were heading back home, Tai stopped thinking. It was less confusing that way, and he enjoyed the peace and quiet, even if it was only in his head. The door soon clanged harshly behind Tai and he followed his brother up the shabby stairway, quickly checking the rusty mailbox as he hurried by, in case there was somehow news of absence from the school. There was none however, so he kept on climbing, up, up, up to the seventh floor. The familiar musky odour that played on the two’s senses always caused a sudden slump in their energy, as if once they were above the street, nothing could trespass through the ancient doors of home. Zheng didn't have to knock; his mother wouldn't be home until much later, and it wasn’t very likely his father would be back anytime soon. He unlocked the door with a loud clack and pushed it on its peeling frame to reveal the tiny interior, which somehow, perhaps miraculously, housed three people. Together they automatically, almost simultaneously, stripped off their bags and collapsed onto the black, plastic sofa in one fluid motion. Tai then turned his head to finally ask what had happened back then, but Zheng was busy handling his wallet. He looked at Tai with piercing eyes and showed him the contents. One or two thousand dollars in hundreds stood out in startling contrast to the dilapidated furnishing of the house. It was more money than Tai could ever remember seeing in this place. He gulped nervously. “Zheng… where did you get this money from?” His eyes continued drilling through the resistance of Tai’s, searching intently for opinion. He breathed in deeply. “I pick pocketed a phone and pawned it on Fa Yuen Street.” Tai sat there stunned, the words creating a vacuum, a black hole in his head, violently sucking out all thoughts and feelings. Leaning in he pressed “Tai, What do you think?” But words would not come, “And those eyes,” he thought, “inspecting me like I’m just some object of interest. Why did he even bring me out today, does he think he possesses me? Did he think I’d want him to

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steal?” And suddenly, as if a dam had broken, anger flooded his mouth and he let it spew out onto his brother. “What were you thinking? What would mother do if she heard about it? You're an idiot, a careless, thoughtless, idiot!” Zheng’s face remained set as stone; the stare seemed to be chiselled on, becoming just another facial feature. Tai found himself worrying if he had been too harsh for a second until he spoke again. “You think I am an idiot for earning money, while you use up all of mother’s? She won’t be home for another seven hours because she’s busy working to afford to feed us, to keep a roof over our heads when we sleep. And yet you do nothing to help out. I don't even see you doing housework. Why not do yourself a favour and think for once?” Tai looked at him, horrified. Could it be true? Have I been such a burden on this family and not even realised, let alone acted on it? A terrible weight bore down on all sides of his head; it felt as if he was underwater, hundreds of feet under the sea without light or breath. “I’m saving up the money until I figure out the best way to help her out. Are you going to help or give me another scolding?” Tai just looked at him and shook his head solemnly. “I’m scared,” he replied “but I’m also your brother.” As the years added up, so did the money. Like a ladder, each crime creating a rung to escape the clutches of impoverishment. Zheng climbed this ladder with ease; however time manifested itself in a different form for Tai. Each of these crimes was like a tide, bearing relentless attrition onto the shoreline of his soul, and by the day that there was enough money saved up to move into their own apartment, as Zheng claimed, “to let mother slow down”, Tai’s faith in his brother had cracked and fractured his heavy carapace of loyalty so much so since childhood, it now clung to him as a burden, a useless weight disabling him to climb any further up the rungs of crime. Zheng slipped on his second shoe and persisted “Tai, come on, we have to go!” Tai lay back on his bed in the room, staring at the ceiling. “Can we not go another night?” Zheng stopped, looked up and walked into the room. “What?” “I don't know. I just have a bad feeling about this one.” His brow furrowed, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” “Well, you know I’ve been thinking, why risk it at all?” Tai sat up and looked at Zheng, “We have enough money as it is. Why do we need to go tonight? What’s stopping us from just getting an ordinary day job like every other person by the end of the week?” “Ha! Since when did you become so righteous and high and mighty? What we do is a profession. It’s just less recognized than some. Besides how much of a burden could it be on your conscience? All you need to do is sit in the car and drive. Now get ready and stop playing Justice Bao, we have a job to do.”With that he turned on his heel and walked out. Tai sighed resignedly and followed his orders. Tai drove them through the night and after some time, they had reached their destination. A house in the country lay isolated down a narrow path lined with woods on the side of the road, tactfully illuminated to avert the eyes of thieves, searching tirelessly for the undefended homes of wealthy families on holidays. Zheng collected all the equipment from the back seat and opened the door. He stepped out onto the curb with a heave and was about to close it wordlessly when he heard Tai mutter, “Good luck.” He looked back and noticed a strange tinge in his eye. “I’ll be back in a minute. Just keep the car running, okay?” He said, a hint of uncertainty betraying his steely confidence. He then turned and closed the door behind him before beginning to strut down the dark, lonesome path. Tai watched him approach the tall row of white, wooden fencing that guarded the house, blissfully unaware, toss the bag over and proceed to mount it. As he reached the top, he glanced back at Tai, waved cheerfully, and then fell into the criminal unknown.

Fiction: Group 4

Simultaneously, a pair of light beams burst into existence further down the path on either side. Both beams seemed to be levitating wholly on their own until the shadows of men were outlined in the faint orange glow cast out through the windows of the house, shown to be progressing silently and steadily towards Zhengs unknowing fate. “So here they are,” Tai thought grimly “right on schedule.” All this occurred in intense, complete silence and as Tai spectated, it was as if he were looking through the window of a space shuttle, the world outside alien, unforgiving and terrifying as one might realize that safety and certain death are separated only by a few inches of metal. Once Tai had witnessed enough, he cranked the car back into drive and drifted slowly back through the night towards home, experiencing a nauseating combination of disbelief and relief. His leaden feet retraced their steps until he was lying back on his bed, eyes returned to its state of unseeing and his heart returned to its state of unfeeling. He expected the police to visit eventually, sometime soon most likely, but when he searched for the courage to begin the second leg of his life at this point, he just couldn’t find it. He lay in a daze for a while, until after a period of time, he was suddenly aware of a knocking on the door. Quite distant at first, like the ominous sound of a foghorn to a ship lost at sea, but then its growth was so unnatural, it came to a point where it seemed to be violently shaking his entire being, threatening to capsize and spill all its contents into the chaotic vortex of water that surrounded him. “BANG, BANG, BANG.” The door vibrating wildly, surely about to implode. Tai’s heart began to race, how could they have come so quickly, it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours since the incident? On his first attempt to stand, his legs slumped beneath him and he fell back onto the bed. “BANG, BANG, BANG.” The door threatening to bring the entire house down on him now. He scrambled as best as he could towards the door and with the support of trembling legs, he looked through the key hole. What he saw made his heart stop. For a moment suspended in time, he paused, uncertain, and then instinctively opened the door. A blur flew through the crack instantly, slamming Tai to the ground and screaming like a beast, pounding his face with a rage of fists before he realized he had fallen, let alone could comprehend acting against it. Pinned down underneath, blow after blow shattered across his face, each one creating a firework of agony to be set off behind his eyelids, and every explosion was accompanied with a piercing, tortured scream. Tai struggled so frantically as to appear to convulse under him, until suddenly there was a break in the relentless flood of pain and screams. Tai found him through a filter of blood, the knife being flicked out from its leather sheath and a manic smile grotesquely consuming his face. “Always remember that you did this to yourself, little brother.” Zheng grabbed his jaw and yanked it apart as he slowly raised the other arm. It reached its apex, and Tai saw a glint of steel come swooping down from above whilst frozen in his fear, then suddenly, he was gargling on his own copper tasting blood. A limitless red river poured out from his mouth and collected in a reservoir that grew and insidiously spread across the cold tiled floor as his wailing shook the frames of the house, experiencing a pain unlike ever before, with times only purpose being to serve suffering, the bliss of unconsciousness eluded him for an eternity and the only graspable, translatable thought was the disbelief that even after so much blood, he was still not dead. Through a worm-hole of comatose, Tai became aware of a burningly bright, fluorescently lit space beyond the thin screening of his eyelids, smelling definitively of sanitation and antibiotics. Tai opened his eyes for the first time and confirmed his suspicions that, be it by miracle or tragedy, he had been delivered to a hospital. He was about to call out for a nurse, but then he remembered and a flood of emotions overwhelmed him. Suddenly he didn’t feel like talking to anyone anymore, which he supposed was quite convenient. His deep well of despair quickly evaporated upon realizing, perhaps the doctors were able to reattach his tongue. So in the silence he experimented, sending commands timidly and reservedly, however soon he could swear that there was sensation in his mouth. He let a grain of hope implant itself into his heart, yet when he opened his mouth to speak only to hear a monotonous, incomprehensible moan, it instantly transformed into a wrenching wail, signalling complete defeat, and he felt the seed wither, leaving a rot in his heart.

Fiction: Group 4

The following months, Zheng’s final words drenched his soul in a cold cover of desolation. He knew them to be untrue, and that is what made them so haunting. Zheng was in prison now, stationed at Shek Pik, the highest security prison on Lantau. He had shot at the police officers coming after him, then run back through brush and wild seeking vengeance, intent only on destroying what he thought had destroyed him. He would prove to Zheng he did not destroy Tai. He had made Tai. But even so, with his doing he found that ordinary things like enjoying conversation, eating comfortably in public, had now become a thing of the past. He dreaded these chores essential for survival and constantly sought an answer to his grievances. A bus journey from Tai O to any town on Lantau required a drive past both the sublimely beautiful and idyllic Shek Pik reservoir, but also down below at the base of the dam wall situated the prison, and in the grace of nature its greyness and lifelessness was amplified immensely, the rows of fencing and towering cement walls constantly and agonizingly reminded him of the distance between them, not only physically, but also as supposed family. The situation insidiously grew in Tai’s mind until one day, passing over the hill before the reservoir and prison; he began to feel as though his mouth were filling slowly up with the thick, foul tasting texture of blood. It grew in volume and vividness as the bus neared the top of the hill, it felt as if he were drowning, and if he opened his mouth, he’d paint the entire interior of the bus red. Panic sensed his vulnerability, and it slithered up his wind pipe, and squeezed gently, testing the resistance it seemed. When the bus shuddered to a halt at a derelict bus stop, isolated by its distance to a location of any use, he could hardly breathe through only his nostrils any longer. The door opened accompanied with a frantic beeping and he hurried out, covering his mouth as he jumped down from the bus to ground. The moment he felt his feet touch earth; he let his insides spew onto an unfortunate bush. As he purged himself of the panic, he noticed it was not blood he was heaving, but thankfully he noted, only vomit. He felt the hot breath of the bus engine blow heavily on his back in goodbye while he was wiping his mouth clean with a sleeve. He turned and stared as the bus drove down the hill and turn a corner, listening until the loud grumbling of the engine faded away and was replaced with the chirping of birds and the rustling of wind as it was sieved through the trees. He noticed a feeling of being watched suddenly, and quickly turned his head around to see a monk in light grey and wooden brown robes. He was looking at Tai affectionately, which considering the circumstances, came as a shock to him. He had a kind face, inviting and warm, with intelligent eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, spoken in a voice imbued without any expectation. Tai thought for a moment and shook his head . “Would you like to come up to my monastery for tea?” “Yes” Tai thought, “I would like that very much.” He nodded and smiled for the first time in a long while. He had missed that feeling. Tai followed the monk through a tranquil path, surrounded by a pleasant air of nature that settled on him comfortably. They walked silently, enjoying each other’s presence simply by being together. Tai could not help but feeling he had discovered some sort of home in this secluded part of the life, where it would always guarantee him true peace. Perhaps one day he would show Zheng this path, and they would once again walk together as brothers towards their home in the mountains.

Fiction: Group 5

Fiction: Group 5

My big day out Korean International Springboard Programme, Ching, Matthew - 13, Fiction: Group 5

eople holding up banners and signs, Tear gas and umbrellas define the lines. People waving chanting and singing,

Barriers and barricades, pulling and pushing. Feeling tired and lying on the road, Buses got stuck and the traffic was slowed. Goggles and cling wrap on my face, Have faith and hope for the better days.

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Fiction: Group 5

Swimming to Macau Korean International Springboard Programme, Lin, Adrian - 9, Fiction: Group 5

ne day over the Easter holidays, a boy called Adrian had to go to Macau for his friend, Ella’s dress-up birthday Party. On Good Friday, Adrian, mum and dad went to the pier in Sheung Wan and bought three Hong Kong-to-Macau tickets. They took the 12 o’clock ferry. While they

were eating plain rice with fried chicken and vegetables on the boat, a big black shark came along and bit the boat into pieces. Everybody on the boat was frightened and fell into the ocean. Adrian and family decided to swim all the way to Macau. It took them one hour to get there. When they finally arrived, they went to check in at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. Adrian quickly took a shower and changed into an Elsa and Anna t-shirt. Adrian’s mum wore a white Elsa dress and his dad wore a superman suit. After dressing up, they went to the birthday party in the restaurant at the hotel. Ella had a birthday cake with Anna, Elsa and Olaf from ‘Frozen’ on it. After that, Adrian felt very tired because it had been a very long day. He went back to the hotel room and quickly went to bed with his mummy and daddy. The next day, they took the 12 o’clock PM ferry back to Hong Kong. Luckily, there were no sharks this time!

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Fiction: Group 5

From the Gobi to the Delta Korean International Springboard Programme, Longid, Katana - 13, Fiction: Group 5

ts 3:00 in the morning and the first thing I hear is “WOOF, WOOF, WOOF!” I knew there was trouble in the back porch. There’s this figure that’s been haunting where I lived since I lived in the Gobi desert. I moved to Beijing for half a year, then, I moved here. It followed me all the

way through. I now live in a medium-sized detached house in Hong Kong. Suddenly, I heard it talk: “Haru. Haru Carrier.” It knows my name. It always did. Since I first saw it walking towards my old house in the Gobi Desert it did. It does extraordinary things. Only yesterday I was going to the bathroom to find water shooting out of the toilet in slow motion for 20 seconds. Also, I have this painting on the wall of a white pigeon and he makes it move. It is perched on a power line, but sometimes, I see it twist, bend and sometimes fly. A while ago, in the storage room it played about 30 seconds of Fast Car on the electric guitar that was plugged into an amp. I went inside and I smelt smoke (luckily, I keep the windows in the store room a little bit open 24/7). The amp was on, but it wasn’t plugged in to the wall! When I turned it off, I felt static electricity. The figure seems to be able to generate its own electricity. When I walked out I noticed that the ceiling fan was moving at a constant slow speed (about 1 RPM). The wall regulator was off so I thought it was simply spinning down but when I came back there a minute later, it was still going- this time, in reverse direction, like how people set them when they want some circulation, but not a draft. To tell you now, my ceiling fans don’t have that little switch that does that. It was 4:00pm and the boys would come at 7, so I had three whole hours to myself. There were shops across the road being remodeled, and I couldn’t bear the noise, so the balcony doors were shut tight. Instead, the bedroom windows were open at a full 90 degrees and the ceiling fan in the bedroom was on and it stayed on, thankfully. The house was so quiet that you could hear the clocks ticking and the refrigerators turning on and off, the silent whirr of the fans and the occasional stir of garbage in the kitchen bin, recycling bins and the compost machine. The “Grey figure” loves doing that, for whatever reason. Not to mention the silent remodeling noise that managed to make its way through the doors.

“RING RING!” The home phone rang. This phone is really old and has acoustic bells. It is quite loud, but I’m used to it. It’s been passed on from my grandparents to my parents, but they found it just too loud, and it often acts up. Whether it has anything to do with the Figure, I don’t know. I answered it. It turned out to be Martin, who once helped me find out whether the figure that was creepily following me around wherever I move, was man-eating or not. I’ve been on the news three times because of the darn ghost and Martin just told me that there was a bit of chaos in the jewelry and precious items shop that was behind my house. They say that a couple of items have been moved and found in all sorts of places. Martin turned out to be at the store and I could hear the store owner saying “HOW, in the name of God, has THIS ended up HERE?!?” and stuff like that, and the sounds of people constantly walking by and jewelry being tossed carelessly in all directions. Martin, sounding restless and tired sighed, “Please come down here, before the whole of Hong Kong starts to blame you…” “OK, I’m coming,” I replied. I also noticed that the sound of rustling garbage has stopped. When I arrived at the store, it was a mess. Necklaces and rings were all over the floor and the store owner was on the verge of calling 999. The storeowner, with hands full of jewelry and various items, including a hammer approached me with a half-angry, half-scared face and told me how it started. “The lights started flickering and I went out to find things in different places. This necklace that is around my wrist right now was hanging from the ceiling fan blade.” I looked towards the center of the room and saw a large brass CEILING FAN with four flower lights and four blades with cane insert. Not at all was I surprised. I have no idea why, but this mysterious figure seems to be fixated with these beautiful, often necessary air-moving overhead fixtures. First, it was the new kindergarten down the road, where the fans all turned off at once, and then it was an old Chinese medicine store, where they turned from off to high, and now this? This was outrageous. The Grey Figure was interrupting everyday life, and then it all goes down to me, the main victim. If there were no ceiling fans, the tables would tip or the doors would slam. I had to fix this.

I

Fiction: Group 5

When the store was finally tidied up, I picked up a green jade and bought it. I have no idea why, but a friend told me it helps with the “ghost”. I only call it a ghost, but it is possibly more. It could be an alien, or a demon, or anything else. Whatever it was, it’s the reason why this jewelry and precious items store is now closed and filled up with Bloomberg news reporters. I was tired of the mischief caused by the figure. Martin followed me back to my house, and I put the jade from the store by the fan controls in the living space. Martin sat down and I went to the kitchen to cook dinner. I thought I heard the words “Haru the Fool” distinctly. “Martin, did you just call me a…” I asked, trying not to be stern. “I didn’t say anything, but I heard someone say ‘Haru the Fool!’ next to the fan controls loudly. Whatever that is, it must be angry that you’re trying to get rid of it,” replied Martin. He looked at the wrought iron front door outside. I looked too. It was open. “Wait a minute,” I told Martin, as I walked out the balcony (the doors were open as the drilling has stopped) and closed the door and locked it. This, by the way was the only house on the street. The street was full of stores, and it was miraculous to find a vacant house in the middle of the city in Hong Kong. It had only vacated a few days after I moved here, so I didn’t spend that long at Vega Suites. We ate dinner together. I am single, so I am usually on my own when I eat. Martin noticed the small China Flag under the painting of the white pigeon. It fell to the floor. We approached it. I carefully picked it up by the plastic pole. I picked up this charming decoration many times, when I bought it, when I got it out from the car, when I was deciding where to put it and I moved it to one side many times. When I was cleaning the wooden shelf it was on. This time, it felt cold. It started to vibrate, the way an appliance would when it was connected to AC power. “Haru!” Martin yelped. “Haru there’s…” I looked to my right to see a door- identical to most of the other doors in the house- cherry with an antique brass finish knob. It was getting hot. When I looked up, I noticed that the ceiling fan above me was gone. The others were still hanging, spinning merrily. Now, I just saw wires coming from the junction box that luckily weren’t touching, as this would cause short-circuit. I looked over to the controls, and luckily, the control to the fan that was here was turned off before that darn thing took it down. I also noticed that the jade I put next to the controls was gone. Martin and I postponed the dinner and walked through the door which led us to a large river. I saw buildings behind me and on the other side of the river. I asked Martin if he was seeing the same thing. He said yes and that we were at the edge of the Pearl River. We were in Guangzhou. Far away in the distance, I saw a bridge, and behind that, there were more buildings. I had absolutely no idea why we were here in the first place- I live in the delta of the river, but I don’t know why that figure decided to bring us here. I was getting impatient. We decided to walk a good 100 meters or so to try and find the fan that was somehow brought to this place. We didn’t find it. What we did find however was a door. We saw many doors on the way, but this door, once again was just like my door, and it was standing by itself, not attached to any building or so. It was weird, but no one noticed us, or the door. Martin turned the brass knob… We went in and found ourselves in the same place, but this time, there were no people. The cars and buses, too, were gone. I held Martin’s hand and felt that it was cold. I asked him if my hand was also cold, and he said, “Yes, you are on.” “I don’t get it,” I replied. Martin made whirring sounds and moved his hands up and down, like the vane of an air-conditioner. “I still don’t get it,” I replied. Martin showed me a picture of a Carrier air-conditioner on his phone, which was one of the ones in my house. This guy is always prepared to make fun of me, in a nice way though. “OK, let’s be serious now,” I laughed. Ceiling fans and air-conditioners have one thing in common- they both cool people. I wondered if that’s why the figure suddenly became obsessed with these appliances, if it knew my last name from the beginning. For whatever reason, while we were walking side by side, admiring the elegance of the Pearl River and the buildings of the delta on both sides, and how so many cities can fit into one delta, the images of all sorts of ceiling fans came to my mind. Modern ones, classic ones, industrial ones, like the ones that I have. I saw every single detail. I saw the unique-looking blades and sleek lights of modern ceiling fans, the curved aluminum or steel blades of the powerful industrial ceiling fans and the wood blades, often with cane

Fiction: Group 5

insert (known as cane blades) or stencil (known as stencil blades) and the beautiful fancy lights of the classic ones. Some had one, some had three, and some had even five lights! Suddenly, I saw the Delta II fan by Casablanca, and the word ‘delta’ in the fan’s name told me immediately that the figure was controlling my thoughts. We continued to walk. It was so peaceful, that I nearly forgot about the missing ceiling fan and Martin decided to remind me. He would also “abuse” the ghost every day until he had had it and would leave. I turned around to see a man dressed in grey clothing walking beside me. I KNEW who he was. In his right hand, he was holding my ceiling fan, and on his left hand, a tool box. I kept my cool, but my heart was racing and I was gasping, as if I was an electric fan myself. I was on medium speed. “Haru Carrier,” it said to me. I turned from medium speed to high speed. “What is…? What is your name?!” I stuttered. “Ura,” the man replied. “You mean, you’re my…” “I am who you think I am,” replied Ura. “I am your great great grandfather, and you are Haru, my little great great granddaughter, now grown up, right? I was already dead when you were born. I had a heart attack at the age of 37, remember.” “Yeah- I,” I stuttered. I looked over to Martin, who was now staring with amazement. “You know why I pretended to be a mischievous ghost?” Asked Ura. He later explained that my name was his name spelled backward with an ‘H’ added at the start. ‘Haru’ coincidentally turned out to be a real Japanese female name. “Why?” Asked Martin. “You never believed in ghosts until you moved to the Gobi Desert. I saw you and you were freaked out so much that you moved out a year and a half later. I was testing you. When you moved to Beijing for less than a year, I noticed that you brought your appliances with you. I pretended to be obsessed with your ceiling fans, just to give you a little problem to solve. When you moved to Hong Kong, I pretended to be extremely mischievous and decided to fake being obsessed with all electric fans, particularly focusing on ceiling fans. I tipped over furniture in different places, and I messed up the jewelry and precious stones store. I just wanted to see how you would react, and I’m sorry. A lot of things I did were quite wrong, like the kindergarten incident and stuff.” “OK, I do forgive you,” I replied, excited. “You know, I spent quite a lot of time working in different factories in different cities in the Pearl River Delta,” Ura added. “One did make ceiling fans. Let’s go back now and I will stop being mischievous. I will also put this big boy back!” He lifted his right arm slightly to emphasize the big white fan. Later, we were surrounded by white light, and we were back in my house. Ura was by my side and Martin on the other. “I will fix my mistakes,” said Ura. The first thing he did was re-install the ceiling fan back to its proper place. A few days later, we were on the news again. There was a picture of Ura, Martin, Me and another friend called Roger on newspapers around the world. Now everyone knows how Ura tried to test my fear and was really very nice. The headline on one of the articles said, “‘Man-Eating’ Figure’s Real personality is Revealed!” This will probably be an urban legend centuries from now, and I’m ready to be famous!

Fiction: Group 5

A Different Occupation Korean International Springboard Programme, Mak, Arthur - 12, Fiction: Group 5

was born in 1925. I was 16 years old when Hong Kong fell to the Japanese, there had been 18 fierce days of fighting and many people were killed during the invasion. The Japanese won and begun their occupation of Hong Kong. There was not enough food to go round so there was starvation and great

suffering. My father died because he didn’t have enough food and lack of medical care. I was always in hunger. I sometimes went to a relative's home for dinner. This relative worked for the Japanese and had food. We had to walk 2 hours from Sai Ying Pun to Happy Valley and walk 2 hours back afterwards. It was good to have food but it was also very horrible to eat there. This relative lived in the place where the Japanese soldiers had their prison cells and I could hear prisoners screaming from beating and torture while I ate my dinner. I was scared that they would get me. The Japanese wanted people to leave and the allowed people to move out of H.K. I took this chance and went to the mainland to join up with the Chinese army. I ended up working as a liaison officer helping with the American soldiers sent to fight in China. My mother, five brothers and one sister all stayed behind in Hong Kong. They were always in my thoughts. 1329 days after Japan took over Hong Kong, they surrendered. I carried on working in the mainland for three more months. Then I returned home to Hong Kong, except it wasn’t home anymore. Everything had changed and it was not the same place as before the Japanese came. Slowly life got back to normal. Food was scarce and we were very poor. My younger sister even had to be married off to a farmer to lessen the family's burden. Hopefully nothing like this will ever happen again.

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Fiction: Group 5

Hedgehogs in Macau Korean International Springboard Programme, Wai, Kaden - 9, Fiction: Group 5

n the 6th of March, six hedgehogs named Sonic, Blaze, Shadow, Knuckles, Tails and Stella wanted to go to the Macau Grand Prix to watch the annual Formula 1 race. They decided to take a jet ski to Macau. Sonic drove the jet-ski very, very fast and the other hedgehogs enjoyed looking at the

coral reef and many other sea creatures in the ocean. They got there in just 30 minutes! After watching the race, they found a colourful house nearby. They went inside and found that there were many animals playing bowling together. The hedgehogs joined in the bowling game and had a good time. Later at night, the hedgehogs invited the other animals in the house for dinner. They drove 5 Lamborghinis to a restaurant and ate yummy seafood like fried fish and steamed crab. The hedgehogs had a good time in Macau.

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Fiction: Group 6

Fiction: Group 6

What is so great about a Typhoon?

Korean International Springboard Programme, Lee, Joshua - 14, Fiction: Group 6

he year was 1937 and I was living in Hong Kong. I was working as a doctor. I had been through many typhoons and seen the damage that they had done. On this day the weather had started raining and big grey clouds were in the sky. I turned on the Radio and I heard the news. It said that

a typhoon had blown through the Philippines and destroyed houses and killed many people. I felt scared. The Hong Kong Government had sent a warning on the radio telling us to stay in doors. I could see people outside I shouted to them to get inside, but they didn't listen and said they had to carry on with their work. My house was safe, but I worried about the people in the houses made out of wood and bits of metal. I sat in my house listening to the wind and the radio. The wind was blowing hard and the rain was lashing down. Suddenly a window smashed, then another. Soon all my windows were broken and glass lay in pieces on my floor. The noise was unbearable, the sound of the wind and broken glass with metal and wood hitting houses. Then I heard a cry for help. It was a mother and her small child. I bravely ran outside and the wind hit me and knocked me over, I got up and had to dodge old signs which were blowing around. I saw the woman and her daughter and grabbed them and dragged them back into my house. The wind calmed and the woman thought it was over, but I had been in too many typhoons to be fooled. This was the eye of the storm and soon we would have the second part. Outside I could see some bodies on the floor. They were not moving. Some people were crying and I shouted for them to come in to my house. Luckily I had medical equipment with me and I could put bandages on the people's cuts. The wind and rain started again and we huddled on the floor of my bedroom praying for the typhoon to end. After three hours of waiting for the typhoon to stop the wind died down and it was safe to leave my house. The typhoon had devastated Hong Kong. In the harbor there were many sunken boats that had crashed together. The streets were flooded and littered with rubbish and also dead bodies. Altogether 11,000 people lost their life to the typhoon. On the radio they called it the Great Hong Kong typhoon. I always thought this was strange because it didn't seem so great to me.

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Fiction: Group 6

Up the Peak

Korean International Springboard Programme, Leung, Nicholas - 15, Fiction: Group 6

he year was 1888 and I was living in Hong Kong. I was working as a builder on the new tram that went from Murray Barracks to the top of the peak. It had not been easy to build the train tracks and some people had died. The day had arrived for the opening of the tram. So I went to the station

with my family. There were lots of people in and around the tram station. Everybody had come to see the new tram. People were waving flags and cheering. Then came Sir William Des Voeux who gave a speech and everyone cheered again. Finally the tram set off slowly up the mountain. I wished I could be on the tram. It was made of wood. It was run by coal. I felt sad when it was going up. I looked in the distance as it got smaller and smaller. It was carrying thirty people, why couldn’t it take me? I looked at the sedan chairs waiting outside the station. The sedan chair could only take one person at a time. We don't need the sedan chairs to go up anymore. I felt sorry for the sedan chair workers and wondered how they felt about the tram. I witnessed a new page in Hong Kong.

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Fiction: Group 6

Occupied Korean International Springboard Programme, Mak, Chun Yin - 15, Fiction: Group 6

am a police officer in Hong Kong. Occupy Central began on the 28th of September, 2014. A Lot of people went to Central and Admiralty. They blocked the roads. I put on a helmet and held a shield in front of me. Some police officers were angry at the protesters. We worked very hard and felt very tired

at the end of each day. One day I went to Central to stop the protest. We were told to arrest the protesters. The protesters were angry. Some of them were lying down on the floor. After 79 days, the streets were finally cleared and traffic was opened again. After we cleared the streets we felt very tired, I rested on the floor right away.

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Fiction: Group 6

P3 accepts no responsibility for the language and content of the material printed in this anthology. All works in the anthology are unedited and printed as received.