Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020 | Page 35

Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2020
The Velvet Petal
Harrow International School Hong Kong, Jamison, Philippa – 13
The setting sun was hazy in the red sky, casting the last beams of light over the river.
In the distance stood tall, glistening skyscrapers, a contrast to the crumbling buildings that
lurked in the shadowy depths of inner Mong Kok, a place abandoned for the shining lights of
West Kowloon and bustling business hubs like Central. The narrow streets were laden with
scraps of litter that had been trodden deep into the cracks of the pavement. Tacky neon signs
glared in the dark, piled on top of each other, desperate to be seen. Posters and signs were
plastered onto every surface, torn and peeling with age. The wind whistled softly, gently
blowing the leaves up the deserted street. The only noise ever heard in this lonely place was
the quiet murmur coming from a small building in the distance. As you approached this
seemingly popular attraction, the noise grew louder. All at once, excited shrieks, groans and
general chatter filled the air. Occasionally, you’d hear the loud -ding- of the slot machines,
the -clack- of dice falling hard onto the wood, as well as the -bang- of fists hitting the table
in defeat. But only fools entered that building, people unaware of the unscrupulous behaviors
that went on behind the scenes.
The back room of the casino was a mess, with papers and forms in disorganised stacks
and piles lying around the room. Wads of money, credit cards, and other valuable items, likely
obtained by dubious means, were left on the wobbly wooden desk. In the ripped faux leather
armchair slept Heng He, the owner of the Velvet Petal casino. He lay sprawled across the
chair, his arms hanging off the sides, a cigarette still hanging out of his mouth. “Boss!” Yelled
one of his associates, as they bashed open the door to the back room. “Asleep when I have
such good news!” Heng He’s eyes flickered a bit, and opened slightly. “The patrons tonight
are rich, they are fools, but very rich.” Said Gang Feng, his associate, with a devious smile.
“Hmm, rich but idiots. Macanese for sure. We get many customers from there nowadays,
since The Greater Bay Area initiative started, the Cantonese too.” Heng He mumbled tiredly.
His blazer slid off the chair onto the wooden floor.
“Who knew trying to unite major cities would be so useful to us criminals?” Gang Feng
laughed, as he walked back out the door into the main casino. The door shut with a thud.
It was nearly dawn when everyone had finally left. Heng He spent the morning counting
the night’s earnings. Gang Feng left as soon as he could. “C’mon boys, let’s get out of here.”
He commanded, his voice low and rough sounding. He strode over the door, and the rest
followed his lead. Heng He fell asleep in his office, his head throbbed from the activities of
last night, which he couldn’t quite remember. He was so tired that he nearly didn’t notice the
envelope left on his wobbly wooden table. Someone must have come into the back room and
left it there, or given it to someone else to send. No one had told him about it. Suspicious. He
flipped the envelope over. It was addressed to Heng He, written in red ink. It didn’t say who
had sent it.
Confused, he opened the letter. The only words were “Be ready.” Scrawled in again, red
ink. He didn’t think much of it, perhaps it was a weak attempt at a threat, and he pushed it
into a messy stack of papers, trying to forget about it. He had a ‘business’ lunch today, at the
bar, with some possible ‘investors’ and intended on arriving early. He pushed open the heavy
front door, which creaked with age and lack of care. The padlock shut with a heavy ‘clunk,’
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