Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 195

The guard who had showed me in gripped my arm firmly as he dragged me out of the room. “C’mere now, sir.
The exit’s just o’er here.” We went back the way we came in, and the casino felt just as unwelcoming as it did
when I came in, if not more. The woman who had called out to us when we came in had disappeared, probably
back into her room for another job.
I couldn’t help but shiver as I imagine the women at the auction, sold alongside me.
…
The guard literally threw me out of the casino, lacking any of the delicacy he displayed when he had showed me
in earlier.
Where would I go now? I was the heir of Shanghai for thirty minutes before my symbol power was taken from
me (again). I am a male prostitute who escaped from his owner. I had no home.
There wasn’t anything to do about it, so I just wandered down the street, hoping to make sense of what had
happened. Walking down the brightly-lit streets of Shanghai city numbed the memories of today, and I lost
myself in the hustle of people.
As I walked, a child came sprinting down and I narrowly avoided a collision, nearly tripping over my feet in the
process. I looked down and found my laces loose and untied. Bending down, I reached to tie up my shoes - and
noticed something gold peeking out the sleeve of my suit.
“The spirits of the walls choose the heir, and the heir is presented with the circlet of Shanghai.”
It was a gold circlet of a dragon.