Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 2 -1 2019 | Page 64

New Tales of the Ming Treasure Voyage
Creative Primary School, Shi, Grace - 12
One day when I was looking at the tremendous exquisite mirror in my cozy chamber, I felt a little tired and
dizzy. My naughty sister thought that it was a good opportunity in a hundred years to prank me.
She tiptoed quietly and anxiously towards me. I would definitely notice that immediately as usual. However,
this time all I was thinking was good sleep so I didn’t pay attention to her. She was standing behind me
when I suddenly saw the reflection of my sister reaching out her hand in the mirror. I knew what she was
going to do. I quickly dodged but it was too late— my sister had already pushed me to the mirror!
I closed my eyes and prepared for an agonizing crash. Wait…I didn’t crash into the mirror! I opened my
eyes. I saw people selling noodles, dumplings and buns on the streets. I looked into the distance. I saw the
Ying Tianfu (where the Emperor lived). I walked towards one of the people and asked, “Which year is
this?”
“The person looked at me as if I was an idiot. He replied, “Ming Yongle third year, and just to remind you,
you forgot to tie your hair into a bun.”
“Wow! I travelled to the Ming Dynasty! The time when Zheng He and a fleet of ship carried cargoes of
gold and silk and other precious items for the crew to give away as gifts! I was so excited since this was my
first time travel. While I was intoxicated with excitement, a voice appeared behind me.
“Why are you wearing a weird yellow dress?”
“Her feet are so big, just like the men’s!”
All the people were talking about me. They formed a circle around me. I didn’t know what to do.
“Silence!” a team of soldiers separated the people and tied me with some ropes.
“Why?” I asked, “Why do you tie me up?”
“Yellow clothes are for our supreme emperor ONLY!”
The soldiers led me to Ying Tianfu. It was glorious! While I was looking around curiously, the soldiers
pushed me to the prison. They locked the doors as soon as I walked into the prison cell.
“Now, what shall I do?” I asked myself.
I felt something wet on my temple. I touched it with my fingers. There was gold paint on my fingers.
“Oh yes,” I thought, “I can paint!”
I have a habit of placing a painting brush on my right ear and carrying some paint in my pocket.