Fiction: Group 3
A Fish in the Pearl River
Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Deng, Whitney - 13, Fiction: Group 3
eek… Closing his closet door, Dayu (means ‘big fish’ in Chinese) had just finished getting changed
for the Nobel Prize banquet - his grandson, Weiyu (means ‘micro fish’ in Chinese), had won the
prize for inventing a Time Traveler. He paused in front of the ancient mirror hanging beside his
closet and frowned. A memory stirred - he had once met a man with this exquisite nose…
***
After the banquet ended, Dayu retired to Nobis Stockholm Hotel for the night. He was so fatigued
that he fell asleep fully dressed. In the middle of the night, he was awaken by the need to use the loo.
He
fumbled his way in the dark and at long last - the door handle. He rushed in, slammed the door and felt his
way through the room. As soon as he realized that this was not the loo, the Traveler started to gather speed
and he was thrown to the ground.
Soon after, the Traveller stopped abruptly and the door flung open.
“Welcome to Guangzhou in 1918...” boomed a cheerful voice while Dayu struggled to regain his
balance. Taking a deep breath, he stepped over the threshold that marked the borderline between the past
and present. Looking back, the door he had just gone through dissolved into a pile of decayed wood. He
froze on the spot upon perceiving the fact that he was stuck in the past. His grandson had placed his
invention in the wrong place at the wrong time!
Dayu looked around him.
The evening sun shone on the many villagers hurrying along the narrow streets of hard soil.
Dayu
was overwhelmed with the scent of wonton noodles when a rickshaw raised a dust storm causing him to
choke. As he walked through the streets, he continuously drew unwanted attention to himself.
“Sir, are you new in town?” a curious voice surmised.
Dayu stopped abruptly in his tracks. He turned around to face a short, tanned man.
“Well, I’m Enlai. My master might like to house you for a few days,” the man offered.
Dayu doubted if he could trust this guy.
“Please, sir. I have to get back to my master’s house before sunset.” Dayu took one more look at
the worker’s earnest expression and decided to follow him.
A while later, Dayu found himself approaching the elegant French door of the only Western style
house towering over other villages.
“Where’s the master of the house?” Dayu enquired the butler at the door.
“The master and mistress are at the orphanage. They have been wanting to adopt for ages,”
whispered the butler.
Meanwhile, a British man was stepping off a carriage that had just arrived, “Hello, pleasure to meet
you.” Dayu stepped forward and shook hands with the master who was also wearing a tail coat, a white
shirt, and a bowtie. “I’m Dayu Deng.”
E
