Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 34

"I see," said Ke Rou. "Then, why are you still staying in this old town and weaving these plain old shoes? You should live
with them in the city and see Shanghai in its splendor. "
"As I study the intricate weaving patterns, I can't help but marvel at our ancestors' wisdom. Weaving is like living. You are
like a strand of straw. Whenever you cross paths with someone else or a place, your life interlaces with the others' lives or
that places' fate, just like how the strands of straw cross over each other. Therefore, they always say every knot, every twist
of a weaving carries the memories of the weaver and her ancestors, and the weaving itself is holding a part of the weavers'
soul," said the dewy-eyed shopkeeper.
"I've stayed in the old city for such a long time, that my life, like the strand of straw in a woven shoe, had become fully
entwined with this place. "
"Some even say your weaving bears memories from your past life," added Nathan whimsically.
"You're joking, right?" Ke Rou, asked, raising her eyebrow.
"You never know," replied Nathan, with a glint of amusement in his eyes.
Ke Rou rolled her eyes.
Clutching the finished shoes in their arms, the sisters thanked the old lady and left the shop. Once they stepped out on the
street, they were greeted by the hubbub of the Yu Garden Bazaar. Ke Rou couldn't help noticing the ancient Chinese
architecture. The eaves of the building were upturned, just like the wings of a swallow being spread out. Giant red lanterns
hung from the cornices of the buildings. As she looked closely, lucky cloud patterns were engraved on the pillars of the
building. Abruptly, a flurry of indigo swept past her. And when she looked into her arms again, one of her shoes was gone.
"Thief!" She hollered at the top of her lungs, and sprinted after the boy dressed in indigo shirt towards the backstreets
( longtang ) of the old city. They took twists and turns through labyrinth-like old city. When she was so close to catching
the thief at his collar, she slipped. As she fell backwards, she saw numerous poles extending out from the ancient buildings,
hung on them were clothes and blankets, billowing in the wind, stranded across the blue sky. Then, the intriguing scene
ended with a thud, and everything went dark.
"Ke Rou, wake up!"
"What?" mumbled Ke Rou.
She adjusted her gaze. She found herself sitting in the classroom, as the teacher carried on teaching the history of Shanghai
in a monotonous tone.
She then turned to chat with her neighbour. Yet, what met her eye was so astonishing that she almost let out a scream.
Every girl in the classroom was dressed in qipao , and their hair was tied up in buns.
"Why is everyone dressed in qipao?" Ke Rou asked the strange girl sitting next to her. The girl pointed towards the front.
"Huh?"
Ke Rou, turned to look toward the front. Smack! A white chalk flew right into her face, hitting her right at the centre of
her forehead.
"Zhu Ke Rou, don't sleep in class!" hollered the teacher.