Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 12 | Page 159

The New Tales of Old Shanghai
German Swiss International School, Jayaraman, Neytra - 11
J
ing watched enviously as a flock of Frigatebirds flew into the tranquil sky and over the wall separating her from
Old Shanghai. Directly below them, the farmers sowed the earth. Sticky sweat ran down their foreheads as the
bright orange fireball emitted burning rays. The farmers wore large straw hats to shield their eyes from the sun.
Inspired by the freedom of the birds, Jing cautiously unlocked the gate to her own home. She started to
jog and a light breeze rippled through her hair. Her claustrophobia dispersed momentarily before a powerful hand
grabbed her sleeve.
“Let me see the outside world!” Jing whined. She was confined to the house, her father told her. Jing
hated this caged existence. Most children her age had the chance to explore exotic new places but she was only
allowed to go as far as the weeds in her back-garden.
“Danger will come!” cried her father as usual. Jing rolled her eyes. The outskirts of Shanghai would be
interesting to her if she could actually see past the fields, or maybe even past the boundary walls into the Old City.
She cursed the paper-thin walls of their modest hut which was like an wrought-iron prison to her.
Darkness fell, covering the fields in a velvet blanket. Jing tiptoed to the window and stared longingly at
the lights twinkling in the middle of the city. Another unexpected light, however, diverted her attention. A little
flicker shone from a bag of straw. Inside was a tiny golden ball, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. She
carefully extracted it. The tiny rays shone on the ceiling, creating an image of people building a wall. A figure stole
a piece of the wall and hid it in a temple. The ball glinted for a second, then faded. Jing needed to find the missing
piece of the boundary wall. She excitedly placed the precious ball in its bag, ran through the creaking door and
clip-clopped down the wooden porch stairs. The Old City was not far and Jing stepped through the waterlogged
fields towards it.
Before long, Jing had reached the dark brick wall, which ominously loomed above her. A sharp breeze
whipped around her head and she thought she could hear the voice of her father warning of danger. Jing peered
about surreptitiously, but it was just an old fortune-teller slumped beside a hole in the wall, who repeatedly hissed
the word as if in a trance.
Old Shanghai was an ancient warren of tunnels and narrow, twisting alleys. People bustled around the
maze of markets and Jing watched children and adults emerging from their huts to partake in the evening’s activity.
People crowded around an enormous red and white temple with a towering peaked roof, draped in glittering
lights. Nervously, she looked about her before producing the ball, which again flashed an image of the thief
sneaking into the temple. As Jing made her way inside the City God Temple, she bumped shoulders with
hundreds of late-night worshippers.
Jing’s stomach sank. How she was going to find the brick? As if the ball had heard her thoughts, a vivid
purple burst from the bag. Peeking inside, she could see a painting of a door that was identical to the one beside
her. The crowd surged forward but Jing raced over to the door, ramming her whole body against the frame.
Jing tumbled inside and landed heavily in a pile of scrolls. The room was filled to the brim with rusted
metals and gold-encrusted artefacts that had a lustrous surface. Jing's sight was blurry from the impact of the fall
and the mesmerising glitter of the room’s contents. She felt exhausted and far from her warm hut on the outskirts
of the Old City. Nearby, she thought she could hear the monotone chanting of the fortune-teller, uttering
“Danger”. The room faded from eye sight as she began to nod off.
Jing came to as her head hit the stone floor. She rubbed her eyes and squinted suspiciously at the heavy
cuboid that was now mysteriously placed in her hands. The magic ball brightly flashed several times, before
dispersing into tiny specs of light. She realised then that she was holding the missing brick. She felt ecstatic.
A scrap of ancient parchment floated into Jing's quivering hands. However, her excitement dwindled and
fear took over when she saw the blank paper. She rolled her eyes. Even the magic ball had disappointed her. She
stared hard at the peculiar paper, willing it to impart a clue.