Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Winners 2020 | Page 3

Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2020
excitement, with the familiar touch that I had yearned for years. He took one more look at
me and slowly turned around. That was the last time I ever saw Tian Xiang.
***
1997 Sha Tau Kok Village, New Territories
Ninety-nine years felt like an eternity, but flew by in the blink of an eye. The once
barren village of Sha Tau Kok had turned into a bustling street of shops. They call it Chung
Ying Street. Every day, I watched shop owners and street vendors chatting and hustling. One
thing that had not changed were the gray stones that split the street in half. And people on
either side of the street never crossed those stones. I remembered Tian Xiang’s father calling
them “border stones”. I had been standing on one side of the street and my brother on the
other. Every day, I would strain to grow a bit taller, a bit wider, a bit closer to my brother.
It took time, but I was sure that one day, we would touch.
One bright Tuesday morning, I woke up to a gentle breeze fluttering my leaves. I saw a red
flag with five white bauhinia petals waving in the blue sky. People cheered joyfully. Children
shouted jubilantly. Two soldiers that I had seen every day on my side of the line solemnly
removed a silver badge from their caps and carefully replaced them with a colorful one, with a
flower identical to the one on the flag. They put the cap back on and smiled at the soldiers on
my brother’s side. Although I wasn’t sure what was going on, I felt a warm burst of happiness.
Just then, I felt a tingling in my top branches. I glanced up, and for the first time, my
branches had touched my brother’s. My heart filled with pride.
“Look! We have grown so big that our branches are touching.”
My brother replied with a gentle stretch of his branches to intertwine with mine.
***
2036 Sha Tau Kok City, Greater Bay Area
As the warmth of the sunlight wrapped around me, I took a deep breath of the fresh
air. The green grass in the park shimmered in the sunlight. At the gates of the park, a shiny
bronze sign bore the words “Greater Bay Area Central Park”. Birds tweeted in the distance.
Children ran about, giggling as the sun shone on their faces. Adults sat on benches, sipping
their coffee and watching their children laugh and play.
“Mommy! Look!” a boy cried excitedly as he pointed in my direction. “These two trees
are perfect for a hammock!” he said to his mother.
Soon, a hammock was tied on us. The child plunged into the hammock and lay comfortably
under the breezy shade of our crisp, green leaves. My brother and I smiled at each other as we felt
the tug from the boy tossing and turning in the hammock. As he lay there, he put his hand gently
on my bark. He reminded me of Tian Xiang, how Tian Xiang touched me for the last time.
“I love these trees!” the boy said softly. His mother looked at him lovingly.
“They are called banyan trees. Did you know that your great-great-great-grandfather
planted two banyan trees before?” The boy’s eyes widened.
“Really? Do you think he planted these?” He pointed towards us.
His mother laughed, “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Suddenly, I felt a tickle in my roots. To my surprise, my roots had spanned and connected
with my brother’s. I smiled at my brother and he smiled back at me. We knew that this land,
where we are deeply rooted, will be embarking on new adventures.
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