Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 200

Bang.
Muoli first heard it, then instinctively flung herself over Fanchone’s body to protect him. She felt the searing pain in
her stomach.
“Muoli!”
She shook her head. “Du.”
To her relief, Fanchone seemed to know the situation was dire. He heaved her to her feet and pulled her to the front
door. The Communists guarding the house saw Fanchone and merely nodded in acknowledgement.
Together, they stumbled into the villa and burst into Du’s bedroom.
Du jolted awake. “What happened to you?”
“You’re in danger,” answered Muoli, her breathing ragged. She told Du of the conversation.
Du’s brow furrowed. “Why are you doing this?” he asked Muoli.
“I know you don’t like me staying with Fanchone. But we truly love each other. And I know he loves you too.”
Muoli gasped. “So you must take Fanchone and leave Shanghai tonight. I once was like you. I believed only in
money and power. But I had never had happiness because I never had freedom. Listen to your heart. Don’t you feel
tired surrounded by bodyguards every day?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Fanchone saw in astonishment a tear glistening in the corner of Du’s eye. “Muoli is
right,” Du told Fanchone. “I thought I had everything in Shanghai, but to keep everyone safe…” he angrily wiped
away a tear.“I’ve been enmeshing racketeers and revolutionaries all these years. We must leave now,” he said,
remembering the situation.
“There here will be no freedom under Communist ruling, no doubt. There is only one place where true freedom
reigns – Hong Kong.” Fanchone answered.
“Leave now. Please,” said Muoli.