Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 12 | Page 572

Hongdu
Ying Wa Primary School, Song, Yiding – 11
A
single figure stood in the glooming moonlight, fiddling in his pockets. He pulled out something black,
L-shaped. He raised the thing and pointed at the empty space in front of himself. A single “click”, a small
move, a big jerk of the man’s hand, then absolute silence. The man slowly shoved the black thing back into his
pocket and walked away.
The man was holding a gun. He was called Lesley Zhang. The person he had just killed was a spy.
*
*
*
The next morning, a man lay dead near the General Post Office Building in Shanghai, which was a
spectacular piece of Classical style architecture four storeys high. Despite the wondrous side, one’s attention would
have been focused on the dead man. There was a hole in his heart left by the bullet that hit him. But there was no
blood.
Meanwhile, Lesley was back at his home, enjoying the aftermath of his evil work. He found an anonymous
letter on the table. Grinning slyly, he picked it up. “Kill the boy on the pavement, you’ll receive your money,” it
read, the words had robot-like handwriting.
A boy stepped onto the stone-made pavement near the Shanghai city walls, not aware of Lesley trailing
behind him, smoking. The boy walked towards the post office. He saw the dead man and stopped abruptly in his
tracks. He screamed.
Just then, the dead man opened his eyes. “I’m a robot,” he croaked, “I’m from the future.” The boy gasped.
“Look behind you, boy!” the robot pointing. “I came to Old Shanghai to teach the man behind you a lesson, he’s
called Lesley. He once tried to kill me with a gun, but I deflected the blow easily. Now, I’m arranging a time
paradox for you two to meet.”
The boy turned around, only to find Lesley pointing a gun at him. “I’ll finish you first, then I’ll deal with
what is ever behind you,” Lesley rasped.
Lesley was about to fire when the boy suddenly said, “I’m called Lesley, too. My name’s Lesley Zhang. Please
don’t kill me.”
The adult Lesley’s finger froze on the trigger, something went ‘click’ at the back of his mind. Maybe it was
the calmness of the boy that reminded him of himself, or is it the name, the face? Suddenly, time stopped.
“Go!” the robot whispered. “I can’t stop time for too long.” The boy Lesley took off running and
disappeared into the early morn. Soon, time started to flow again, but the robot was gone. The other Lesley
turned his back, a look of astonishment on his face. “Where’s the boy and the thing behind him?” he muttered to
himself.
*
*
*
Adult Lesley entered a nightclub— ‘Shanghai The Paramount’, typical for old Shanghainese mobsters. He
saw one of his friends and sat down beside him. “What’s up?” his friend asked.
“I’ve got a large wad of money coming,” Lesley replied. “Thirteen hand-guns and some Opium. What d’ya
think?”
“Do it!”
“Yeah,” Lesley sighed. He shook his head and looked up. There he saw a police detective, known to the
gangsters as ‘The Killer’.
A second later, Lesley fell to the floor. He was thrown backward and he landed on the ground with a loud
‘boom’. His friend sprang up and kicked the detective in the stomach, but it was blocked easily with a wooden
table. Using the distraction, Lesley called for help. The detective reacted by summoning more police with his
whistle.