Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 246

Broken Promise
Singapore International School, Cheng, Nancy Nanqi - 15
L
u Yuanhuan hummed Debussy’s famous piano piece Clair De Lune while he drove past The Bund and the
city’s early birds. Back then in West Point, there were only males in the school; everyone was formal,
cautious, as the school rules allowed absolutely no sloppy behavior. Shanghai was definitely much different. As
Yuanhuan kept driving, he saw housewives chit-chatting while purchasing raw materials for lunch; he saw
rickshaw men devouring down a whole bow of sweet soya bean milk at the street-side food stand; and he saw
ships full of cargos getting ready to sail. Indubitably, people were all moving at their own comfortable paces.
Nobody came to push them, nor did they themselves looked in haste.
“How pleasant to be a common man,” Yuanhuan pitied himself, pulling the car key out of the keyhole after
firmly parking the car. He could only walk for the remaining five hundred meters because he had reached the
old uptown – where most longtangs were located.
Growing up in a family with military background at the time provided Yuanhuan a comfortable living
environment. He had been overprotected until his father brought him to the house he once lived in, which was
a small attic in one of the longtangs. Ever since then, Yuanhuan formed his habit of having breakfast uptown
several times in a week. The habit had been obtruded for four years, thus, he was eager to gain it back.
“Lu xi sang? Long time no see!” A hawker cried out while Yuanhuan’s tall, erect figure sauntered towards his
stall.
Showing his perfect porcelain-like teeth, Yuanhuan answered, “Of course it’s me. Long time no see Zhang
bebe. Same as before, one bow of soya bean milk, ten xio long meitou.”
Mr. Zhang replied in a gleeful voice, and then ran to start working. Despite sitting outdoor, Yuanhuan could still
smell the fragrance of freshly grinded beans suffusing through the air. In deep nostalgia, he took a mouthful
breath of that comforting odor.
“Lu xi sang, your soya bean milk is here. Please enjoy.” A girl who was about the same age as Yuanhuan gently
left the pottery bow in front of him. She was very petite; with almond-shaped watery eyes, narrow nose, and
thin pink lips. She was not unbelievably beautiful, but she gave Yuanhuan an ineffable palpitation.
“Xia xia nong. I haven’t seen you before, are you helping out for Zhang bebe?” Yuanhuan asked due to his own
curiosity, but the words were full of respects.
The girl paused all her actions abruptly. She had never expected someone like him to ask about her matters so
politely. She stared into Yuanhuan’s amber eyes, and then slowly shifted her vision to his military uniform. This
man was truly a gentleman; nothing like those nouveau riches.
“I… I’m his daughter. My name is Xiaolu.” Xiaolu said it in an unbelievable soft volume. She knew her cheeks
turned super rosy, as she could feel that obvious sense of burning on her face.
“Xiaolu,” whispered Yuanhuan to himself, “what a lovely name!”
Xiaolu’s blush spread to the nape of her ears after hearing those words. She briskly escaped from Yuanhuan,
leaving the young sergeant behind confused, then scuttled back to her room upstairs in the old flat. Xiaolu burst