Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 394

Yin looked back at Ming and sealed the deal with a nod. After all, with his power and influence nowadays in Shanghai, finding a
man wouldn't be that hard, would it?
//Shanghai, 1935//
The Japanese general sat in front of Yin. The man had invited him to a conference room that day, saying that the two had some
serious business to talk about. Yin had agreed, even if reserved.
And now Yin cannot believe what the man was proposing.
The Japanese will invade Shanghai and this man, Arakawa, wanted Yin to be the president. Or in better words, their puppet to
the public.
On one hand, making an enemy out of the general of the Japanese army is really not a bright idea, but just the mere idea of
betraying his blood sends shivers down his spine. Did he want to leave his honour intact, or walk the way of a coward, and accept
the offer in fear of death?
Looking down at the offered hand, he ran over his choices one more time and came to a firm decision, and instead of
immediately shaking it as he would have a few years ago when he arrived in Shanghai, he does a daring act.
He spits on it.
A big and slimy wad of saliva dripped down onto the green leather glove, the material ruined by the sticky liquid.
Time seemed to have pass quickly in the past few minutes but the spell was broken Yin stood up abruptly as guns were drawn on
him. The Japanese general was still staring at the spot of wet on his glove in disbelief, his face growing redder by the minute.
Yin laughed. He strolled out of the door and his laughs echoed down the corridor, and it was uncertain how long it was
suspended for, but one thing was certain.
Yin had made an enemy in high places today.
//Shanghai, 1937//
So this was it. The anticipated attack.
Yin stared at the mass destruction of him. Having known of the attack, Yin had tried his best to prepare his men for the attack,
but all they had for defence was a couple of guns, nowhere near advanced compared to the ones of the Japanese.
He wondered what would have happened if he had accepted the hand that day. To be a traitor, to join his men with the Japanese,
to help them conquer China and its resources.
He would have been safe and secure, but not happy.
"Mr Long, time to go." John, his guard, said to him urgently, coaxing him out of the room and to go downstairs where they
could find shelter to get them through this invasion.
Ming had disappeared a few years ago with only a note saying goodbye, and Yin often wonders if somewhere out there, Ming is
still thinking of him and their time together.
A bang startled him and he suddenly grew more aware of his surroundings. He looked around and saw glassy eyes, people
slumped over each other, and bloody weapons lay all over the ground.