Fiction: Group 4
inside a bag. Before anything could have happened to me, I dashed to get some jackets and clothes. It
seemed to me that I would not be safe if I stayed at home, not knowing if I would be killed by any Japanese.
There was news saying that the Japanese had invaded some parts of China. Now, they were coming to us,
Foshan.
I heard guns blasting away all night. It was no doubt that the Japanese were coming. They had no mercy for
everyone. Many dead bodies were lying on the road, and I hardly found any place in the street without the
scars of bombing. Some poor villagers died even without closing their eyes. I, holding all my necessary
belongings, rushed to look for my aunt Daisy. Her noodle shop was gone, gone to nowhere. I could not
find it on the ground anymore. It was bombed to pieces, including her house adjacent to the shop. The
power of the bomb was so strong, it reduced all the houses and the market place to rubble.
My only relative, aunt Daisy was gone. Maybe she was still alive but I could not find her at her shop, and
Xiao Hong was not there too.
I did not know what to do next. Then, someone called my name.
“Zhi Ming, why are you here? Let’s go now!”
Someone hit my head, and I fell on the floor. I could not hear anything.
“Wake up, wake up, Zhi Ming,” a friend of mine called my name.
I opened my sleepy eyes. My view was blurred, and people were walking like trees. After a few seconds, I
gained my sight again. A man still kept talking to me.
“Wake up, Zhi Ming. We are in Macau now!”
I was fatigued. My whole body was too heavy to move now.
My friend told me the whole story. After I was knocked down by a Japanese soldier, the soldier was called
to go to some other place. My friend then picked me up and took me to a boat. They wanted to go to
Hong Kong but it seemed that we were destined to end up here, Macau.
V
I have been living in Macau for 20 years. After I had settled down there, I asked a painter to draw a picture
of Xiao Hung, hoping that I would not forget her. We did not make it to meet each other on 1
st
October,
1939 because of the Japanese invasion in September.
The painting, a bit aged like me, faded, is now hanging on the wall of my living room. Whenever I look at
this picture, I recall the very moment we met and how nervous I was when I bought her a necklace. She,
Xiao Hong, is not just a painting on the wall but she was and has become part of the picture in my life.
Now, I am a retired person, embracing my relaxing life style without any daily routine. I want to go back to
Foshan to see my village again. What is the use of going back there? I bet everyone I know has gone.
Today is my friend, John’s birthday. He is a big fan of cars, so I want to buy him some model cars as he is a
keen toy car collector. When I was walking in the corridor, I saw a well-dressed woman moving into the
next flat with some workers helping to move all her furniture. The furniture looked a bit old but elegant.
Then, a necklace dropped on the floor.
The necklace looked ancient, and the shiny surface had gone. It was a bit familiar to me. I think I had seen
something like it before.
“Madam, you dropped this,” I said.
“Thank you,” the woman said.
She suddenly held my hands tight and kissed them. She was Xiao Hong. She was just living next to me. It
was the first time I had cried, and I could not hold my tears back anymore.
