Fiction: Group 4
“ Zhiguoung! I just found out that I had lost my Home Return Permit. What should I do?” I tried
desperately to recover my composure and kept on a façade of dignity.
“Miss Wong, I am terribly sorry for your loss! You may want to try calling the Immigration Department
and ask. I am sorry for not being of much help. You see, I don’t really have much experience on this
front…” The rest of his words were white noise as I had my phone whipped out and was punching
numbers on my touch screen, eager to have a solution to my current predicament.
“… Please get down to our office at once so we can help you with…” My arms were already flailing
around trying to flag down a cab and I was diving in the cab before it had screeched to a halt. “Our office is
on Mingzhu Road. You should find us with considerable ease once you got here.” The officer’s soothing
voice was doing nothing for my nerves and I only managed to utter a terse “Thank you.” before I hung up.
I relayed the address to the taxi driver and sat limply like a ragged doll, wanting the day to be over with.
The receptionist stood up when I pushed the door open. I was directed into a room with an officer
already waiting and a vacant seat for me. Half an hour later, I was standing outside on the pavement with a
promise of getting a temporary visa on the day after tomorrow. “And for now?” I asked the officer. “For
now, please find a place to stay until we can issue you your temporary visa.” She was trying to be reassuring.
I guess I just couldn’t get anything through my head now.
My head was hanging low and my eye lids were threatening to shut on themselves. I could barely hold
out my hand to get a taxi. My whole body weighed a ton with my head filled with bricks and my limbs
made of jelly. I might very well fall apart from exhaustion any moment now. A taxi stopped abruptly.
“Please get to the nearest hotel.” Even my voice sounded weak in my own ears. Pathetic. I dosed off.
Not five minutes later, I was awaken by the taxi driver. I stepped off the taxi and looked up. Two rows of
palm trees swayed on the sides of a shallow rectangular pond. Artful blue vases were placed strategically on
the banks, casting a rich blue hue over the water with the brightly lit grand hotel behind. This was a hotel
build to impress. It was ostentatious.
Wobbling slightly, I struggled to the reception and was immediately helped by a smartly dressed staff
member. I got a room within ten minutes and was led there by a bellboy. Upon closing the room door, I
had to drag myself to the bed and I was oblivious to the world within seconds.
I woke up with sunlight dancing behind my eyelids and a tingling warm sensation flowing from my
fingertips to my toes. Sitting up, I realised two things. One, I hadn’t taken a bath or brushed my teeth or
eaten anything last night. Two, I was in a luxurious room that I had not looked around yet in yesterday’s
haze.
I acted on the first one instinctively. I cleaned myself in the bathroom and took time to check out the
tasteful décor. I hunted food down in the kitchen and got myself hydrated. Then, I carefully inspected the
rooms. The Victorian bedframe, the Parisian rug, the chandeliers… Even the wallpaper was picked with
care—it was pearl white with swirling patterns, not loud at all and perfect as the background for the more
detailed pieces like the abstract picture of a boat sailing into the sunset from 18
th
century on the wall. The
painting was filled with bright colours—red, yellow, orange, blue, black and white… It was truly alluring
and angelic.
However, the most mesmerizing part of the room is not even in the room. Walking out on the balcony,
Baiyun Shan, meaning the White Cloud Mountain, was just lying in front of the hotel. From what I saw,
white wisps were swirling around the mountain top, and the mountain was covered in emerald. As I looked
on, the white wisps gathered, becoming small patches of clouds and were dancing around the sides of the
mountain—sometimes they seemed to be melting right against the sea of greenery, sometimes they seemed
to be so far-apart and mists leaked from the clouds floated back to the embrace of the mountain. The clouds
were magical, so pure and delicate, down right untouchable. White against green, the contrast was stark yet
they existed harmoniously, one complimenting the other, taking this scenery to the next level.
