Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 65

Lin Zexu continued to fan himself with his calligraphed fan.
“Give me some time. I need some time to think.”
“Be quick with that. I will be taking my leave a few shichens later.” He nodded, eyes emotionless. I turned to look at his
face as I took my leave. For a second, that face, wrinkled and old, with a thick mysterious beard, looked so hateful I
couldn’t bear to glare at him for a heartbeat longer.
I dashed out to the woods, hoping that someone will shoot me and I’ll perhaps end back up in modern-day Shanghai. I
never felt this helpless before, but the best way to deal with these kinds of storms were to calm down and think rationally. I
strolled passed the apothecary, dismissing the thoughts of d