Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4-7 2019 | Page 84

New Tales of the Ming Treasure Voayages
Harrow International School Shanghai, Shen, Brightly - 14
The silent waves pushed towards golden bay, flipping and twisting the white shells and corals like a bored child fiddling
its toy, the beach was empty with no one lying on the beach-chairs nor under the brightly colored umbrellas. Suddenly
a shimmer of red and gold was revealed under the sand, glimmering in the afternoon sun. It was a bookmark. The
waves pushed and pulled the golden bookmark, hiding and showing the red pea stone welded in it, making it turn and
spin until it was finely out of the sea’s wretch, lying still on the smooth sand.
Thud, thud, the damp sea wind blew away the distant calls of seagulls and cars driving by, but couldn’t cover the sounds
of footsteps stepping closer and closer. A clean delicate hand reached down to the bookmark…
As the waves and boats retract back to the sea and the days and nights rewind, we would peak where the red beans
grow to unfold a story untold.
A rustle of footsteps past out from a mansion shattering the silence of the gloomy rain, a man in his 40s pasted up and
down the room, his hands cluttered to a scroll behind his back, his face pale with distress “What to do! The emperor has
given the order, every family has to give a young man to join the Ming treasure voyages and our only son is not an
officer!” he muttered “Who will carry our family name if he’s dead on half way? Even a fool knows going on this
voyage is suiciding.”
“How about the exam? There’s one coming soon, as long as he passes and becomes an officer the emperor can’t do
anything.” A woman, already covered in tears suddenly quivered, her eyes told that this was the last hope.
Their worried voices past out the window, into a girl’s ear, her eyes like a pair of black pearls, hair smooth as silk, her
little nose and smooth outline make her seem as if she always gave a soft warm smile, but now with her thin brows
crossed with concern, her clean delicate hands had crunched in a fist, ignoring the crumpling book. She raised her hand
ready to knock. However, moments later not a single knock ended on the door as her hands was hold down by her
matchmaker “don’t you worry May my dear, when I find you a rich man to marry, your brother won’t need to go on
that suicide mission, all you have to do is buy him a place as an officer, and have a chubby baby boy.”
The round matchmaker smiled in pride revealing her golden teeth, yet soon her smile vanished, instead her foxlike eyes
round with fear “What on earth, are you holding!” She snatched the crumpled book away from May and stared at it in
disgust “A girl looking at papers and ink? Next I’d be expecting a dog spitting ivory! Only man spend their time on
useless symbols on paper, we woman do much more important things, learning how to make fabric and needle work
and taking after the family. Only these girls could get married.”
May snatched the book back, her face red in fury “This is not only ink and paper! Can’t you read the title ‘Three
hundred poems of Tang’?” Not waiting for the matchmakers response she thundered into the bookroom and slammed
the door. Leaving the matchmaker in the soggy rainy air and steam puffing out of her ears.
“The weathers better then yesterday aren’t it?” May smiled as she walked on the sunny street.
“Ya.” The Matchmaker murmured in response, her eyes flashing around in alert, as though expecting the passersby to
do a sudden charge at them “I still wonder what kind of a father would let his daughter touch books and pens then
allow her to go in public at the age of marriage.”
May giggled, her voice like the clear tingles of a stream, but stopped in a sudden, her eyes glowed as she stared at the
small dusty pave. The matchmaker looked over her shoulder, the pave was small and dusty but was covered in a bright
glimmer as the jewels it sold reflected the sunlight, yet what formed a huge contract to the splendor of jewels, was the
shopkeeper. The old hag stared at them with dull bored eyes and gave a warp sneer, the matchmaker narrowed her thin
eyes but May smiled back and asked “How much would that be?”
Her hands ignored the clear emerald bracelets and glittering golden rings, instead it ended on a pair of metal bookmarks
each with a red pea stone welded in it. The old hag’s sneer stiffed, she raised her brows and looked at May with query,
but soon she smiled and finished exchange in speed, as though afraid that she regrets.
“You know that the bookmark is made of metal, do you?” The matchmaker asked in disbelieve. May nodded with a
big grin as she slid the pair into her ‘Three hundred poems of Tang’ then clipped the book under her arm “the red bean
stones remind me of a poem I’ve read, it’s worth it.” She said and turned ready to head back, not noticing a piece of
golden glimmer fell out of her book.
“Hello? Is this yours?” an uncertain sound came from behind.
A hand was holding one of the red bean bookmarks. It was a young man. May recognized the uniform he was wearing.
‘A scholar.’ she thought, her sight moving to the patch on his shoulder and sleeve. ‘a poor scholar.’
“Yes, its mine.” May smiled, the young man’s face flushed.