Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4-7 2019 | Page 302

Frozen stiff with fear, I felt my legs lock themselves into place. I cursed my luck, as the pirate turned to me,
grinning from ear to ear. Behind me, I heard the characteristic sound of a sword being taken out of its
scabbard, as footsteps resounded around me, as two pirates sought to take me down. Cold sweat erupted
across my forehead and I began to tremble, watching that gleaming cutlass swing down at me—I closed my
eyes and prepared to face my end—
And then I heard a bloodcurdling scream, right when a sharp pain blossomed down my leg, and I felt myself
sink towards the deck, my weight crumbling beneath me.
I gingerly pried my eyes open, before noticing that there was something warm and sticky on my face.
Lifting a finger to my face, I hesitantly wiped off some of the liquid, when a metallic smell hit my nostrils
and my split-second thinking concluded that it had been blood. My first instinct was to run for my life and
so I tried to move my legs, before the sharp pain came back, soon blossoming across my whole leg.
Incapacitated, I stared at the body in front of me, the source of the screaming, only to be greeted with the
sight of the pale boy from two years ago, who I had never imagined could look even paler. Yet now he did,
with a cutlass sticking out of his lower abdomen, his eyes tightly shut, as blood pooled on his shirt; and I
realized that if it weren’t for his timely appearance, the person lying on the floor could’ve been me instead.
But what had struck me as odd was this decision of his: the fleet was a pirate attack, after all. The most
logical thing one would do was to preserve their own life, and run for safety. Then why would this pale boy
risk his life for me? Was there anything else he viewed as important, asides from his very safety?
The pirate raised his cutlass again, the victorious grin on his face growing wider by the second. As he
prepared to strike one more time, the sound of deafening cannons cut his actions short. We all stayed there,
frozen, as the sound repeated itself again and again. Eventually, I lost count—but at the end of the day, it
were the Ming soldiers who emerged victorious, after destroying the pirate fleet, killing 5,000 of its men,
and most important of them all, capturing Chen Zuyi. Only later on did I find out that the Grand Director,
Zheng He, had secretly sent out an informant on the day they demanded surrender. That was why he knew
about the pirates’ plan, and devised a counterattack on them.
On July 19, the whole treasure fleet reached Nanjing, where the Emperor himself had appeared to welcome
the fleet. After all, this maritime project had been a great success.
Just last month, Chen was publicly executed in the town center. My broken leg prevented me from
attending, and so did Ah Jun, the pale boy who had saved me, and has been living under my roof upon our
arrival in Nanjing. He had only gotten out of the coma a few days ago, but was still bedridden.
“Why save me?” was the first thing I had asked him when he woke. Indeed, I still hadn’t figured out his
actions that day, even if I had plenty of time to look back on the incident. He simply smiled and asked me
in return, “Remember the mantou you gave me on the first day?” The unspoken words were as clear as day;
Ah Jun believed that risking his life that day was the only way he could repay me. I was in no way related to
this boy in blood, yet he was willing to die for someone completely unrelated to him?
Ah Jun might have noticed my confusion, as he soon reminded me, “Is there not an old saying that goes ‘A
drop of water given in need shall be returned with a burst of spring’? It is only natural that I repay you with
more than a mantou.” Who would have thought he had joined the voyage other than the same reason I had
in mind initially: to survive? Ah Jun taught me that there were more things to life than mindlessly struggling
for one’s own existence, that there were people out there who cared for my own wellbeing, that even in a
world like this, there was eventually somewhere out there where I could truly belong. It was mind-
blowing, for an orphan like me.
Yesterday was a crucial day for boatmen like me, as we had to attend a ceremony, which congratulated
those who had played a part in fighting against Chen Zuyi and his fleet. While standing on the stage and