Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 12 | Page 570

The Old Shanghai Adventure
Ying Wa Primary School, Ng, Tin Yau – 11
Y
esterday, I visited a historical museum. While I was wandering around, I saw an old picture in a dark corner.
It was glimmering like a diamond in the dark. My curiosity led me closer to it. I found that it was a map of
Shanghai from the old days. I touched it and felt dizzy. The room seemed to spin and I recognized I was being
sucked into a time tunnel. I closed my eyes tightly and my heart pounded so hard that I couldn’t breathe. I noticed
that something strange was happening to me. I asked myself, “Where am I? What am I going to be?”
After a moment, I landed in a dark corner of a street. I was frightened. My feet were trembling so much that
I couldn’t stand straight. I crawled to the end of the street and peeked out. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was on a
street in Old Shanghai as it reminded me of what I had seen in a history book about the old city wall. The leaves on
the trees fluttered and the wind was whirring. A shred of paper was blowing in the wind and I caught a glimpse of
it. It was a notice with the date on it. Oh no! I had gone back to the Ming Dynasty. I shivered with fear. I glanced at
myself. I was dressed in Hanfu. A dark shadow suddenly skittered across the edge of the street. A girl was running
towards me. She screamed, “Run for your life!” I was speechless from shock.
The girl grabbed my hand and dragged me with her. We dashed through the narrow city streets for several
minutes before turning down a side-alley and stopped to catch our breath. “We will go to the safe house first!”
yelled the girl. “There!” she said, pointing to a place at the end of a street.
We set off again, this time more cautiously. The city was in chaos. In the distance, I could hear men who
were screeching in Japanese. I had read the history books before. I knew that they were the sea pirates, the Wokou!
People were hurrying away from the invading Wokou, carrying whatever valuables they could. Occasionally, I saw
groups of Chinese militia men running in the opposite direction. The roads were only a few meters wide with
wooden houses on either side. The houses were only two or three floors high with clay tiled roofs. Most ground
floors were small shops or tea houses.
We arrived at the safe house. The safe house was a small dark windowless hut at the back of a Ming
Dynasty inn. There were several men in the room but there was one man who seemed to be in charge as he was
gruffly barking orders to the others. He was short but powerfully built. He looked up and stared at me. He asked,
“What are you doing here?”
“A girl brought me,” I replied.
“The Wokou are attacking,” he said. ”We’re organizing the local militia here. And any volunteers who want
to help?” he added, looking me in the eyes.
“I guess I’m volunteering then!” I said, sounding braver than I felt.
“Good. Go with Xiao Qian,” said the man motioning to the girl.
I went over to Xiao Qian who was busy filling a bag with supplies.
“What are we going to do?” I asked.
“Our mission is to get back our treasure map from the Wokou. The treasure map is at Wokon headquarters,
just beyond the city walls.”