Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 93

Cheng Guang only stared at me, processing this new information, "You turned your back on your own
blood? How could you be so cruel? We should've kicked him out when I told you to, Zhang Wun."
Zhang Wun watched the situation unravel helplessly. Cheng Guang straightened, "They'll be coming
anytime soon. The least you could do is help your brother out, Zhang Ping."
I would've sneered at her condescending tone, but I knew she was right.
She ran to Zhang Wun's room, and I trailed behind, leaving Zhang Wun standing in the kitchen
hopelessly. Unlocking his drawer, she pulled out glimpses of my childhood. She threw the pictures hastily at me,
and one of them flipped on its pale backside. Words were scrawled messily at the back, notes of names and
addresses, including neighbours I recognised. I furrowed my brows and began flipping all of the photographs. I
shook my head, my mind reeling in an attempt to progress and piece together what I had just discovered.
“You lied to me all this time? I trusted you! And to think you used Ma Ma and Pa Pa to manipulate this
situation.”
All I saw was red; I had never been this livid my entire life.
He laughed bitterly, unflinching, “You are a blind fool! Can’t you see? I wanted the store to myself
because our business was failing. I was failing! I didn’t want you to see me- your older brother and your best
friend- as a failure! You think I want to watch each of my neighbours slowly become Opium addicts one by
one? I had to feed us, and keep us alive!”
I stared at him incredulously, “You wanted to keep yourself alive. You’re disgusting, giving yourself up
to the British like that. Selling drugs to our own people! You knew I would have never wanted this; you knew I
would never allow it. You knew I would sooner die! So don’t tell me this was for us because this was for you.”
He stared at me, his Adam's apple bobbing against his dark skin. There was a split-second of stillness
before he threw himself at me, a fist flying toward my face.
I fell backwards, grappled onto the hard, damp floor.
Chen Guang's voice filled the room, "Get off him, Zhang Wun! We don't have time for this childish
nonsense!"
There was a loud knock on the front door, "The guards are here! Zhang Ping, you need to sneak out
the back door with the photographs, it's the only evidence of Zhang Wun's opium dealings in this house. Head
to Zhang Wun's store, and we'll make sure the guards don't catch you."
11.
It happened so quickly I didn’t have a chance to register it. I was suddenly on the ground, with a gun to
my temple.
"You should have stopped running when we told you to, young man. You only made this more
difficult for yourself.
I heard my brother’s cry of protest as he caught up to us, running toward me as he caught sight of me.
He spoke frantically, kicking and screaming when he was suddenly restrained, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Zhan
Ping! I don't know why Chen Guang told them where you were.”
He knew why. They weren't going to give up until they found the dealers, why not place the blame on
one?
I stared at his face, blurry through my clouded tears. I didn’t need to see his face properly; I could trace
it in my sleep. The planes of his jaw, the crookedness of his nose.
It was a shame that the last thing I heard was Cheng Guang's howl of laughter.