Fiction: Group 4
New Tales of the Pearl River Delta
St. Mary's Canossian College, Ng, Annette - 15, Fiction: Group 4
he afternoon in June was cooler than usual; the sun hid behind the thick clouds and cold breeze
flitted through the village. Ah Man walked into the paddy fields and bent down once she pulled up
her sleeves and trousers; her hand dived into the water and almost unable to reach the soil. Her
friend, Ah Xi came towards her and said,
“What are you doing here?”
“Too much water,” said Ah Man bleakly. “Looks like we won’t be able to have a lavish feast this winter.”
“The rainstorm has just stopped and Pearl River has overthrown and begun to flood the fields. It’s no use
crying over spilt milk. I have been selling things but it is still not enough—”
There was a light whistle and they turned around, a tan-skinned boy passed by and Ah Man yelled,
“Ah Ming!”
“Ah Man,” said the boy in response as he spotted them and began walking towards them.
“Where are you going?”
“To the Chief’s place, he has called us for an assembly outside his hut.”
“Isn’t it an hour later?”
“Males assemble first and figure out plans to solve the flooding. You know how hard it is for us to survive.
It takes me three days to get a hare into my trap.”
“I have forgotten how meat tastes like,” said Ah Xi. “The only food I have for days is cornmeal.”
“That’s because you are a girl and cannot help bringing game back to the family.”
“I am selling my sewing at the market.”
“That’s barely enough to buy anything,” said Ah Ming while squinting his eyes, gazing at the hut at the far
end. “Anyway, I have to go now. You girls go back and do some sewing to make contribution to your
families. Stopping idling and doing nothing.”
“We didn’t—”
He hurried off, leaving the girls behind. Though Ah Man wanted to go back home, Ah Xi was filled with
curiosity. She pulled her friend and they followed him to the Chief’s home. As they knew they were not
supposed to be here, they hid behind the bushes, peeping through.
“I’m warning you,” said Ah Man. “Curiosity kills.”
“Actions are always the key.”
The boys assembled first. Since the fields were flooded, they were excused from working the fields. At first,
they gathered quietly for a while, but as more boys arrived, they broke into uproarious play, and their talk
was still of jokes and games. The smaller ones stood aside, playing cat’s cradle or clutching the hands of their
older brother tightly.
More men arrived, standing beside their sons while speaking of the flood and what they did to make a
living. Their frown stayed on their foreheads and their conversation was low-spirited, whenever they heard
of jokes, they would put on a wry smile rather than chuckled. The conversation did not cease until the
Chief came out from his dwelling, with his son Wei propping him. Children stopped chatting and gazed
respectfully at the elder. A teenage boy immediately placed a chair behind the Chief and the Chief sat down.
“Everyone knows the flood has affected our harvest this year,” began the Chief. “And most likely, we won’t
be able to have enough grains to survive through the winter solstice.”
There were murmurs and gasps rising from the crowd and the Chief raised his hand, continued his speech as
soon as the clamour faded out.
“I understand your worries, all of us here have mouths to feed back home. Though the females can earn a
living by sewing, it is not enough and we have to think of a solution.”
“Chief,” said a man standing at the back. “I have an idea.”
“Zhang San, please tell.”
“Everyone knows that we have Dragon Kings ruling Four Seas, and they manipulate weather and bring
rainfalls,” said Zhang San and a few villagers nodded. “Earlier on, our shrine for Dragon King of the South
Sea was damaged but we did not repair it at once. And now he is punishing us with flood.”
“What can we do to calm his anger?” asked another villager.
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