Fiction: Group 4
a start, walking away from Zhanjiang one fine fresh morning, singing farewell and merry songs as they went;
the party moved along at happy speed, telling stories as they hiked through the mountains. They walked at
good pace all day, stopping only twice for meals (which did not come quite as often as the children would
have liked, I dare say). They had now strayed far away from the main roads, and contented themselves to
tricky mountainous ones; they passed many villages with curious folk, until eventually they were buried so
deeply in the mountains that there were no people left, no inns, no villages, and the roads grew increasingly
worse. Long were the days as they rose higher and higher up the seemingly never-ending hills, constantly
glooming in the shade as they trekked through dark foliage.
Mr Chiu led the way. “We must not stray from this path,” he said one morning, as they awoke
once more to stiff necks and numb feet. “We are in need of food, as well as rest in a reasonably comfortable
place. I say! You will also need new garments. You have sweated through them as if you’d plunged headfirst
into the sea.”
They were asking him where he was making for, and he answered: “To a small tavern nearby –
they call it Fahua. The innkeeper is an old friend of mine, whom I sent a message to, and is expecting us.
We should be there by the end of the day.”
Still the party walked on, never looking back, determinedly urging themselves forward. There were
many paths upon these mountains, but most of which were merely deceptions leading to nowhere or dead
ends; also they had to be cautious about where they were walking, so as to not attract a possible ambush.
Morning passed, afternoon came; but in the resolute silence they could not hear any sound of dwelling. At
last, they arrived at a clear scrape of land, where a small building quite like Mr Chiu’s inn stood. The air
down here was somewhat warmer, with the smell of oak and pine trees dazzling the children. Their spirits
rose as they thought of the good warm dinner and comfy bed awaiting them there. Elizabeth already
pictured herself curling into a ball next to the fireplace, whose chimney she could see emit smoke. As they
drew nearer, a small, beefy man jogged out of the house, swinging his arms wildly over his head, shouting at
them. She saw Mr Chiu stop dead ahead of her, spreading his arms out to prevent the children from walking
any further. It was then that Elizabeth knew something was wrong. Though the Fahua landlord stood
several yards away, she could hear him yell as though he were beside her.
“Comrades!” he bellowed, still gesticulating wildly. “Comrades! Walk no further, for Hong Kong
has been conquered by Japan!”
The party stood frozen for several minutes. Then, they began to panic.
And that is how their adventure began.
