Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 12 | Page 268

New Tales of Old Shanghai Kennedy School, Sit, Hilary - 9 O ne early morning, there was an old man who was searching for remains of old Shanghai because he wanted to learn more about his roots. While in an antique shop he found a red hand painted wardrobe which captivated his eyes. The wardrobe was about his height, and the old man’s curiosity drew him to open its two sided doors. As he opened the wardrobe he saw sparks flying inside as if from a distance. Feeling adventurous, he walked inside when nobody was looking. As he entered the wardrobe, there was a puff of smoke. Then suddenly, another golden door magically appeared in front of him with a breeze. Shivering and getting excited, he approached the door and noticed a small sign: “Enter if you’re ready for an adventure. Return in 24 hours or else you’ll stay there forever!” As he walked through the golden door, he noticed the wrinkles on his skin fade away while he felt his body regaining its strength as if he was 20 years old. With a blink of his eyes, he now found himself inside the revolving door of the famous Cathay Hotel which we know today as the Peace Hotel. Stepping outside the revolving door, he saw a sign across the road saying “Welcome to Shanghai – Happy New Year 1922!”. He thought “This is rather strange. Why am I in 1922? ...and everyone is dressed in 1920’s costumes…?” Making it even stranger, there was a stunning Lancia Lambda waiting for him at the door. The driver came to greet him saying: “Good afternoon, Mr. James Murad!” and told him that he would drive him around Shanghai during his stay. He thought to himself “It’s very strange that the driver already knows my name without asking me” and so he replied “Good afternoon.” Although James preferred to explore the city on his own, he was too polite to reject such an offer. He said to the driver that he wanted to tour the Bund. So the driver drove him along the Bund and James took dozens of photos with his smartphone which he noticed no longer had a signal. Looking for some fresh air, James asked the driver to stop at the park on the corner. James sat on a bench observing the people of old Shanghai. A little boy passed him a postcard with an advertisement on the back, and James put it in his pocket. He was fascinated by how beautifully women were dressed in traditional qipaos while men were dressed in full three piece suits. Unlike postcards of today, the Bund that he now saw was a muddy narrow lane with tall reeds growing beside it leading the way to the Astor House Hotel across the Wusong River. Although intrigued by the scene, he continued watching the beautiful sunset then asked the driver to bring him back to the Cathay Hotel. Just as James was about to board the Lancia Lambda, he noticed flames rising from the Astor House Hotel. As the flames licked the sky he heard someone shouting: “Albert Einstein is in the Astor House Hotel. Please hurry…. save him.” Strangely, a sudden gust of wind blew a newspaper from November 14, 1922 (tomorrow’s date) onto