New Tales of
the Yangtze River
The Anthology of The Hong Kong Young Writers Awards
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New Tales of
the Yangtze River
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Inspiring tales provide
a pointer to the future
The world’s most populous region is hungry for good books
By Nury Vittachi
A
N ALIEN ENTERED the room. The formless, shape-shifting blob pulsated with light as
it slowly glided through the air towards her.”
I love stories set in space, far in the future. But not everyone does. My friend Eric prefers
tales of ancient China, where monks and swordsmen travel between rural villages.
His girlfriend Ah-Yee loves dramas about families in the present day. To her, it’s important
that stories feature realistic people in realistic situations.
Stories tend to fall into natural groups, and these categories are often called genres. That’s
a French word, and you say it like this: John-Rerz. The word means “popular story-types”.
This marvelous book has a wide range of pieces of writing in it. You can see at a glance
that they vary in format – some are prose while others are poetry, and some are factual while
others are fiction. But they also vary in genre. Many of the entries we received were action
stories, while others were travel pieces and still others were comedy.
Excitement and thrills
The wonderful torrent of entries we received for the competition that “fed” this fine anthology
shows that Hong Kong and China’s young writers can deliver great writing in a range of genres.
I was particularly impressed by the fact that contestants interpreted the theme, New Tales of
the Yangtze, widely. We had creative works set in the past, the present and the future, we had
tales to make you laugh, and tales to make you cry.
If reading this volume or writing a piece for it inspires you to do more writing, what sort of
work should you do? In the book business, the top sellers are detective books, plus their close
relatives, thrillers and courtroom dramas. If you look at the list of bestselling fiction books on
any particular week, you will typically find that half the top 20, sometimes more, consist of
books involving detectives, criminals and spies, and the blurbs on the back of these volumes
promise excitement, thrills, mystery and suspense.
Why are these books so popular? Because human beings are motivated by two overriding
interests: love and death. They want to be loved as much as possible; and they want to do their
best to avoid death. Detective stories are usually tales that involve these two elements as key
plot points.
Popular genres for the young
But there are other popular genres too. In the young people’s section of the bookstore, you’ll
find these five genres, among others:
2
Foreword
1 School stories: One of the earliest classics in this area was Stalky & Co, written in 1899
by Rudyard Kipling, author of The Jungle Book. Others include the Malory Towers series,
still growing in number after more than sixty years, with a new author taking over from the
original one.
2 Fantasy stories: These are tales set in a fantastical world where magic really exists. In this
universe, wizards are real, and the bad guys may be orcs or trolls. Think of Lord of the
Rings, Harry Potter, and the Narnia books.
3 Action and adventure: What about writing a story where your hero or heroine has a great
adventure, going to an uncharted rain forest, or finding a secret land under the ground, or on
top of the clouds?
4 Ghost stories: Creepy tales about ghosts and witches are a popular genre, especially in Asia.
But don’t make them too revolting or horror-filled, or publishers may refuse to print them!
5 Science fiction: Think about setting a story on another planet, or on a spaceship in another
galaxy. The good thing about these tales is that anything can happen – the only limit is your
imagination. And that means there are no limits at all.
Now, to help you make a success of yourself, I’ll give you some INSIDE INFORMATION.
Whichever genre you chose, think about setting your story in Asia. There are already lots of
books set in the West. The majority of published tales take place in environments which look
like North America or Europe. There’s a shortage of books set in the East.
This volume of East Asian tales should prove a useful source of inspiration!
Nury Vittachi
Chairman of the judges of the Hong Kong Young Writers Award, was one of the founders of the
Man Asian Literary Prize, and is chief judge of the Scholastic Asian Book Award.
3
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Contents
Foreword
2
Winning Entries
· Thomas Fung
· Charlotte Cheuk Yee Lai
· Theodore Chow
· Alice Lee
· Ho Yan Mong
· Hazel Wong
· Lo Tsing Sum
· Katherine Ko
· Waylon Chan
· Clare Wong Yin
· Tiffany Wu
· An Gie Kong
· Ella Davidson
· Tam Wing Hei
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Fiction
· Alpha Ngai
· Audrey Wang Xin Jia
· Eleanor Cheung Hay Ching
· Graham Wong
· Janice Chen Jia Yi
· Joshua Kim
· Kwang Tsz Wun
· Kylie Chan
· Phoenix Hui Sin Hang
· Yunah Frank
· Anahita Kaman
· Ankit Kumar Misra
· Anna Wu Jia Ying
· Celeste Wu
· Charlotte Leung
· Colin Chung
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· Ethan Joshua Luk
· Isabelle Pomfret
· Jarra-Devi Sisowath
· Jessica Tang
· Justin Mak
· Ko Yuet Kiu
· Leonard Yip
· Michael Chiu Yan Kit
· Mihan Rathnide
· Robyn Lee
· Sriya Bandaru
· Timothy Yung Ngo Tin
· William Goo Sze Yin
· Zoe Grace Lowe
· Aashman Vyas
· Au Yee Ki
· Catherine Wang
· Chan Ngai Lik
· Charmaine Au Yeung
· Darren Leung Chun Tao
· Emma Kious
· Gwenyth Slaughter
· Harmony Yuen Hey Wen
· Justin Yu
· Keith Leung
· Ryan Ng
· Shannon Hu
· Taylor Payne
· Vanessa Ma Yuen Kwan
· Warrick Chung
· Wong Hiu Yue
· Anna D’Souza Melitta
· Chim Wung Cheong
· Constance Chan Yan Chuen
· Eirene Woo Kar Lam
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Contents
· Gene Lin
· Jaslyn Chiu Lon Yan
· Kelly Chan
· Kendra Cui
· Louise Yung
· Tai Wei Chen
· Christopher Lo Ting Ho
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Non-Fiction
· Nick Choi
· Bettina Tiannan Pan
· Elise Chen
· Meghana Vasantharao
· Arthur Wong Hon Sang
· Charles Leung Tik Ho
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Poetry
· Kinsey Fong
· Alantha Zhang
· Carol Lam
· Chrysanne Chow
· Hellas Lee
· Kareem Abuali
· Liam Fung
· Rory Thomas
· Ryan Mak
· Samantha Brooks
· Amy Ling Ching Man
· Caitlyn Chan
· Christopher Tse Ho Kan
· Hannah Jun Han Na
· Heloise Dunlop
· Jasmine Bootwala
· Kang Ji Min
· Karen Woo
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· Leung Hei Yiu
· Ophelie Desceliers
· Oscar Olesen
· Sabrina Yau
· Sarah Davidson
· Alexia Seroussi
· Cheng Yuet Yi
· Kenneth Lam
· Lam Tin Wai
· So Fung Ki
· Stefanie Law Yee Kiu
· Tara Jasmine Lee Boyi
· Wong Ka Ming
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Congratulations from the sponsors
· P3 & Playtimes
· Bloomberg
· City University of Hong Kong
· Bookazine
· Asia Exhibits House Limited
· Go Gourmet
· Christina Noble Foundation
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Cover Art – shortlist
· Byron Daly
· Chloe Shek
· Eric Ko Hyun Jun
· Jasmine Korng Ying Ki
· Ryan Chung
· Tsui Pak Lok
· Liam Fung
· Melissa Lai
· Tang Yik Man
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5
Winning Entries
The Young Writer of the Year 2012 & Winner of Fiction, Group 4
The Paper Boats
Thomas Fung, 17, St. Joseph’s College
A
few years ago, when I was still a freelance writer, I decided to broaden my horizons
and get some inspiration by taking a trip down the Yangtze River. It’s the third longest
river in the world, snaking its way across nine provinces. They always say that the
sheer majesty of the river is enough to make anyone gape in awe, so I decided to try it out
myself, and got myself a vacation on a scenic tour down the river.
It was on the tourist boat where I met the old man, a few hours into the journey. The old
man strolled along the deck, looking at the river and murmuring to himself. He folded up a
piece of paper into a boat then looked at it intently, deep in thought. He looked like a nice old
person who had a story to tell, so as a writer, I figured that I should go ahead and talk to him,
and get some inspiration from his story.
He seemed tremendously happy when I approached him. It was as if he was longing for
someone to listen to his stories, and before I knew it, he was telling me about his background.
“I used to live in a village near this river,” he said. “It was a nice little village, but we were
quite poor. Luckily, we still had a very small school to attend. My class had about 12 students,
give or take a few.” He twirled the paper boat around with his wrinkly and stubby fingers. “We
rarely have new students in the class, but the one time we did, it changed my life forever.”
The girl that entered the classroom gave him such a shock that it stopped him right in his
tracks. Her attire was old and dirty, much like the other students from the village. Her shoes
were muddy and worn down, seemingly ones that have been passed down for generations. It
was her eyes that caught the boy’s attention.
They were sparkling before him. It reminded him of the river, how it sparkled under the sunlight.
To him, it was as though the beauty of the river was presented to him right there in front of him.
The girl was introduced to the class, and was then assigned to a seat. To the boy’s delight,
it was right beside him. He introduced himself to his new neighbour, with a slightly shaky
voice. The girl smiled and nodded, and then turned to listen to the teacher. As for the boy, he
just couldn’t pay any attention anymore.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” I interrupted, “How old were you when all this happened?”
The old man mused over the question for a moment. “Oh, I suppose I was 15 or so,” he
said. I was surprised.
“Isn’t that a bit … well, young?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say so,” he replied. “There’s always a time for everyone. The Yangtze
River has always told dozens of love stories; I guess I wanted to be one of them.” I nodded to
show my sign of approval, but I wasn’t too sure about his decision.
“Tell me how you got to know her well, then.” The old man looked down at his paper boat
again; it was getting a bit crumpled after his constant mindless twirling.
7
The Young Writer of the Year 2012 & Winner of Fiction, Group 4
“I was just getting to that, actually. For a long time, I didn’t have the courage to tell her
what I felt about her.”
Months had passed, and the two had grown to become good friends. They would often
talk with each other, and at times they would help each other with their schoolwork. When the
weather was good and the water was calm, they would take strolls down the river.
The part of the Yangtze that was near their village was a shallow section of the river,
where the water flowed by at a relaxing and comfortable pace. At some parts, it could be as
calm as a lake. Listening to the splashing of the water as you walked by brought about a wave
of tranquillity that was unlike anything else. The water, as clear as crystal, sparkled under the
sunlight, like a million diamonds embedded in the riverbed.
The boy liked taking the strolls with her, and sometimes they would just paddle their feet
in the cool water and make big splashes. They would stay until the sun set, and they would
sometimes play games along the river.
He taught her how to throw stones that skipped on the water’s surface. She taught him
how to fold paper boats that floated peacefully down the river. Sometimes, they would just fold
paper boats all day long, and then release them onto the river. The long stretch of boats would
form a formidable squadron, flowing down the river like a fleet on a mission.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” sighed the girl, as the boats made their way down the
river. “Yes,” replied the boy. “Beautiful.”
But he wasn’t talking about the boats.
“So, after all that,” I commented, “She still didn’t know how you felt about her?”
“I supposed not,” the old man said. “We were both quite young then, and she probably
just treated me like a playmate; someone to talk to and play with after school. I didn’t have the
courage to tell her anyway.”
“Wait, so that was it? You just let her go?” I asked with utter bewilderment. That cannot be
how it ends, I thought. The old man smiled, showing the few crooked teeth he had left.
“Of course not, you silly little man,” he replied. “This is something a friend told me
about girls: they only come to you when you keep your distance.” That left me even more
confused, and I wasn’t sure what to say. The old man, observing the perplexed look on my
face, chortled, “My dear boy, you have much to learn.” He lowered his head and scratched
his scalp, as if he was trying to recall something. Then, all of a sudden, he raised his head
and continued, “Have you ever heard of the rock of Kongling Shoal? It’s just along the
river in Kongling Gorge.” I shook my head. “It’s a very intriguing rock,” he explained.
“In some seasons, when the water is low, boats often crash into the rock. You see, the
water currents in Kongling Shoal are quite enigmatic. The only way to manoeuvre your
way past the rock is to aim directly at it. Then the waters will surely guide you past the
rock. However, if you intentionally steer away from the rock, the currents will bring you
to the rock, and you will certainly crash. This is why the rock has the words ‘come to me’
written on it.”
“That’s interesting,” I remarked. “So what does this have to do with anything?” Once
again, the old man let out a little smirk, like a bad comedian who’s trying not to laugh at his
own joke.
“Well, in a way, this rock is a metaphor for girls. When you try to get close to her, you end
up driving yourself away from her. However, if you take it easy and keep your distance, she
will then try to lure you closer.”
“Of course,” he said, now grinning from ear to ear, “When this happens, I can assure you,
there’s going to be trouble.”
8
The Young Writer of the Year 2012 & Winner of Fiction, Group 4
More months passed, and for the two, the walks along the river became more and more
frequent. The paper boat releasing had become more like a custom for the two of them. Every
week, they would bring their decorated paper boats, tie a thread of string and then release them
together down the river.
“Where do you suppose the boats will reach?” she had once asked.
“That’s the beauty of it,” he had replied. “They can go anywhere they want. The most
important thing, though, is that no matter where the boats go, they never, ever separate.”
The girl smiled, and her eyes gave out that familiar sparkle. “I surely wish they don’t.”
The boy turned to look at the girl, and his smile matched hers. For him, that was the
moment that lasted forever.
“That was the happiest moment of my life, I would say,” the old man said. He was smiling
again, and I could tell he was having a good time reminiscing about his memories with the girl.
“Did you get married in the end?” I asked, and then almost instantly regretted it. The old
man’s smile had vanished with the question, and grief overcame his face. He didn’t answer the
question; instead he went on with the story.
“I’m leaving the village,” he told her. “Father said that his brother has found a job for him
in the town, and so the whole family is going to move. It’s a big town next to the river.” This
was the moment that hurt them the most. Nothing else was said for a while; nothing else was
needed to be said. Then, she broke the silence, saying, “We can still keep in contact.”
The boy said nothing. She knew that there was virtually no postage service, or telephone
lines. Nor would he ever return to the village again, he supposed. He just didn’t want to tell her
that it was not possible.
“We can remember each other,” she explained in soft and calm words. “We have the boats.
Release your paper boat down the river every week, and it may come to join mine. Then we can
always remember each other, when we release the boats.” The boy nodded silently. Together,
they walked along the river together for one last time.
“I told myself, this river will always carry a special meaning for me. Maybe I was
immature back then, maybe it was just a passing phase; but when I look at the indescribable
beauty of the Yangtze River, I will always be reminded of hers.” He gazed at the river, which
stretched into the horizon. I followed suit, trying to grasp the beauty of the river he had
repeatedly extolled with awe.
I couldn’t.
The water bore a mildly sickening green colour that slithered down the current. The river
glittered faintly with the occasional occurrence of plastic bags and tin cans. I cringed at the
sight, while thinking why I had not noticed all of this until now.
“You can’t see it now, can you?” the old man chuckled at my grimace of disgust. “That
beauty which I spoke of, how I wish it could stay. Back when I was young, this water was as
clear as crystal. You could practically see the bottom in the calmer parts of the river.” He let
out a sigh of grief and helplessness. “Those officials said they would clean up the river. They
said they’d catch those people who’re dumping chemicals into the river too; but those factory
owners are a crafty lot. They just put the sewer pipes where no one can find them.”
He went on staring at the river. “This is why I never came back.” He said. “The river may still
be here, but the memories have been erased long ago. It’s just not the same to me anymore. I don’t
release the boats anymore, either. They call it ‘littering’ now; but just for old time’s sake…” He threw
the paper boat off the ship, which drifted along the wind, finally landing peacefully on the river.
I decided that it was best to leave him be, to stay with his memories. I bid him farewell,
and walked down the deck, and hoped that the paper boat would reach its destination.
9
Winner of Fiction, Group 1
The Yangtze River – Growing Pains
Charlotte Lai Cheuk Yee, 8, St. Paul’s Co-educational College Primary School
A
long, long time ago, I was the young, playful Yangtze River. I spent my days splashing
along the sandy banks and creating gentle waves. What I enjoyed most was playing
with the friendly but energetic Yangtze River dolphins. They were my best friends,
always jumping up and down on my back and diving into my depths. One look at them made
me instantly full of playful energy and happiness.
As I flowed steadily through the green landscape, I wore a long, flowing robe with blue and
green swirly patterns, which shimmered in the sun. I started to learn about the land around me:
I smelled the pungent fragrance of the plants; I saw the rich colours of the shrubs, bamboo and
trees, rocks, boulders…
At night, the moon bathed on my chest, forming a rippling, lunar brooch. I listened to the
whispers and the lullabies of the rivers and the lakes that I passed on my journey. They talked
to me and told me that when I grew up, I would grow into a strong source and became the most
important river in the history of China…
How much I wanted to grow up!
Hundreds or thousands of years have passed – finally I grew up to be the responsible and
respectful Yangtze River. My days were spent helping the local villagers clean themselves.
Everybody who lived near me relied on me to help with daily chores. The people took my
water in buckets to water their crops. All around me was healthy harvest. Because of me, the
land was getting fertile. Because of me, the people were getting rich.
However, my heavy flow and fertile earth flooded the riverside every year. Hundreds of
acres of land were flushed by me.
Do I really want to grow up?
I also miss my dolphin friends dearly. I do not see them so much anymore. I wonder where
they have all gone. Did the whizzing sound of fishing boats scare them off?
I cannot recall when – but one day, heavy machines were placed around me and someone
started building dams within me, blocking my flow and cutting all my smaller rivers and streams.
I am getting slower and more tired every day. I am no longer the deep, rich blue I was
before. I am now a yellowish-brown mixture, with slime and slick on the surface. The villagers
are long gone. Now factories and machines surround me instead. They empty smelly oil and
diesel into me, making it difficult for me to move and breathe.
With my shallower water, I can see the corpses of my dolphin friends near the riverbank.
The dam construction and pollution from the factories have killed them!
I am no longer the young and playful Yangtze River I used to be.
I am no longer wearing a long, flowing robe with blue and green swirly patterns.
I am no longer who I used to be.
Now, I don’t want to grow up.
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Winner of Fiction, Group 2
The Yangs and the Tzes
Theodore Chow, 10, Renaissance College Hong Kong
O
nce upon a time, there was a river in China that divided two kingdoms. The Yang
camp resided on its south side while the Tze people lived on its north shore. These two
peoples had been living a peaceful life until two young emperors came to the throne.
They each thought that the river and its resources belonged to their people alone, and recently,
they had started fighting. Up above, the River God, through the mist of clouds, had been
watching them with keen eyes.
“Forward march!” shouted Emperor Yang, as the Yang soldiers advanced towards the
river. While they were marching down the slope uniformly, the sun was gently setting into the
horizon, dressing the sky in layers of orange and red. The freshness of the green grass and the
shimmering river gave them hope. The emperor had promised them that if they defeated the
Tzes, there wouldn’t be any more wars and they could all go home.
Meanwhile, in Emperor Tze’s castle, a special meeting was going on. “How dare Yang
claim that the river’s theirs! We must teach them a lesson!” Emperor Tze was furious, so was
everyone in the room.
One general suggested, “Maybe we can bomb Yang’s castle and…” But General Lin
interrupted him. “We must attack them when they’re least prepared. We need to sail across
the river at night, and take them by surprise!” “What a great idea!” said one of them. All the
generals gathered closely to detail the plan. “I’m sure it’ll work!” said another. “A marvellous
plan and a plan it shall be!” snickered Emperor Tze.
***
Night had fallen. Emperor Yang and his soldiers reached the bottom of the valley and were about
to cross the river. His men boarded the small fishing boats prepared by his people, each taking only
six to eight soldiers. And quietly, hundreds of them set sail in the dark. A Yang general asked, “What
are we going to do now, Emperor Yang?” The young emperor replied in a low voice, “Once we reach
the other shore, it will soon be dawn. We must go up to Tze’s castle and attack them at once.”
The River God had heard all their vicious plans of annihilating each other and was very
upset. He decided to teach both the Yangs and the Tzes a big lesson.
Soon after the Yang soldiers reached the north shore, they waited silently in their boats.
The Tze soldiers, wearing their armour and carrying their weapons, began to stride down to the
river as well. Each one was waiting for their commander’s order. But no one knew a powerful
but angry god would soon punish them.
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Winner of Fiction, Group 2
Seeing the Yangs and the Tzes act so foolishly, the River God said, “It’s time to show them
my power.” He began by gathering clouds, so the morning sun was now completely hidden. He
then gave the river a stir to create waves that were strong enough to rock the boats back and
forth. The Yang soldiers were startled by all these sudden changes in weather. With a wave of
his hand, the River God wrecked all the Yangs’ boats, dropping all the Yang soldiers into the
river. With another strike of the river with his hand, he made waves mountain high and washed
all the Tze soldiers, stationed nearby, into the river as well. The winds howled, and all the Yang
and Tze soldiers, including the two young emperors, were all struggling, trying to cling on to
the wooden planks of the broken boats. “What’s going on? What’s going on?” they asked. None
of them had experienced such weather before and they were scared to death.
“Help!” cried Emperor Yang. “Help!” screamed Emperor Tze. The two of them and their
soldiers swam as hard as they could, but they just couldn’t reach the shore. The waves were still
high and strong, and any minute they could all drown. In their terror, they forgot the attack,
the killing and the hatred they had for each other. They helped one another swim to the nearest
wreckage. They helped save one another from the unexpected turmoil.
Seeing that, the River God stretched out his hand and calmed the river. Everything quieted
down immediately. “Look! Look! That’s the River God!” some soldiers cried. In his watery
gown, the River God had risen from the river.
“Yang and Tze!” the River God said in the most solemn voice one could ever imagine,
“This river does not belong to any one of you. It’s a gift from Mother Nature for everyone
who lives alongside it to enjoy it.” Upon hearing that, Emperor Yang and Emperor Tze were
so ashamed that they almost submerged their heads in the water. “I’m very sorry, River God,”
said Emperor Tze regretfully. “Me too,” said Emperor Yang. “From now on, you will be friends
with each other, just like your ancestors. You will treat all people as your family and care for
all of them. You will share the river and its resources with all. And I shall not see wars again!
Do you hear me?” “Yes, River God!” said Emperor Yang and Emperor Tze together.
From then on, both kingdoms worked together. And, as commanded by the River God, the
river was named after the two peoples – Yangtze River, so as to remind them that the river that
divided them belonged to everybody. They are one big family and should always share with
each other and care for one another.
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Winner of Fiction, Group 3
The Ruin of Dimen
Alice Lee, 12, Renaissance College Hong Kong
A
chilling breeze swept through the tiny settlement of Dimen, signalling the coming of
winter. Children skipped home from school, adults trudged to and from the rice fields
and the respected elderly women, the za, walked across the bridges while carrying and
leading small children alongside them. This is Dimen, home to a Chinese ethnic group called
the Dong, where there is always the hint of a song floating through the alleys of the villages,
speeding with the breezes that attack the rice fields, and rippling along the river that passes
through the settlement, fittingly named the Dimen River.
On this particular day, a woman came running into the house of the village healer. It
wasn’t an abnormal sight, though. People ran to him all the time, weeping the whole way.
The healer, after listening to their troubles, would then calmly lead the way to the patient’s
home with the villager struggling to keep up. Like a hurt child struggling to keep up with his
laughing friends, the villager straggled behind as the healer breezily floated on ahead of him.
The healer’s diagnosis varied, but often involved anyu, traditional raw fermented fish that
were offered to the dead. The man would declare that the sick person was possessed by a ghost
who had unfinished business and that they should prepare the spirit food, the anyu and the
wine to satisfy it and stop it from haunting the patient any longer.
Songs were also a very important part of Dong culture. Every day during school, one could
hear the singing teacher teaching songs to children during school.
“Now sing after me! Dong fang hong!” the singing teacher would say.
“Dong fang hong!” the children replied.
“Now I need four children for a solo! Who wants to sing a solo?”
Most of the children’s hands shot up eagerly. “I’ll pick you, you, you and you,” the singing
teacher said after a moment of thought. Those picked glowed with pride; others that weren’t
picked hung their heads in shame.
They could only use songs to tell their stories and history as they didn’t have a written
language, so the people of the Dong minority were careful to memorize their songs well.
But if people stopped singing, where would their past go?
This is Dimen. A village dependent on songs.
***
The only person in the village who knew the entirety of Dimen’s history was an old, partially
blind za. Every day, she got up at first sight of dawn and walked to her rice field to weed and
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Winner of Fiction, Group 3
water, her singing rousing people from their homes. Early-rising children stood in their doorways,
waving to her as she walked by, carrying her farming tools and straw hat. Her clear plastic
raincoat swept behind her as she walked up the steps toward the rice paddies outside the village.
She taught the children songs when she was not in the fields and she was well-respected around
the village. The only song no one would learn was the song of Dimen’s history.
“But it’s very important! If no one learns it then who will know of our history?”
“It’s so boring! Who wants to learn 120 repetitive verses of song?”
No one would learn it, not even the singing teachers. Though they may know fragments
of the song, the old za was the only one who knew it all. But she knew that she was fast
approaching death. She was old and tired and worked all her life. The only problem was that
Dimen couldn’t imagine her dying. Lots of villagers had lived their whole lives with the za.
She was one of the most hard-working villagers in the settlement. They thought that she was
immortal, a guardian goddess of the village. Because only she knew the entirety of Dimen’s
history, the peace of Dimen rested in her hands.
The old woman let out a long sigh. Someday, they would have to do without a history if
they kept going on like this.
This is Dimen. A village forgetting their roots, albeit slowly.
***
That winter day, the children continued skipping to school and adults continued going
to the rice paddies to take care of their crops. The old women continued walking their
grandchildren across the bridges. Songs floated through the alleys of the village. Something
was amiss though. One could sense the tension just walking through the streets.
The old za was sick. And everyone was panicked.
“What do we do? How could she get sick?” exclaimed one young man.
“Everything’s going to be OK. She’s not going to die,” a mother comforted her child.
“Someone call the healer!” screeched a woman.
“Oi, move over! The healer’s here!” shouted a boy.
The healer’s usual calm facade had all but vanished as he ran into the home of the old
za. The brown pouch he was carrying was wide open and contained many herbs, berries and
grasses. They were messily organized, as though he had been skimming through them while
running through the village. A few blades of grass were hanging on the edge and some of them
had fallen out and all but disappeared, trampled into the ground by worried villagers.
“How are you, ma’am? Where does it hurt?” said the healer.
“It hurts everywhere. And I feel really cold,” mumbled the old za.
The healer muttered a prayer under his breath, then rubbed the old za’s forehead, hands
and feet. He then rummaged in his pouch and brought out a faded old text, presumably for
interpreting sicknesses, which he consulted. He then stood up and announced the verdict:
“She has been possessed by a ghost who froze to death!”
The crowd gasped.
“Someone help her and get their anyu and wine to placate the ghost!”
Villagers started running back and forth through the alleys and streets to their homes,
grabbing anything they could to help the old za. Some took blankets and tea to warm her up;
others grabbed their rice wine and anyu to placate the ghost; still others ran around to spread
the news. The village was filled with worry and grief.
For the first time in ages, not a sound of song was heard throughout the village.
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This is Dimen. A village that cannot see beyond the borders of tradition.
***
That night, the people, led by the healer, chanted blessings to the old za, while the healer
used his herbs to make medicine and villagers laid the anyu and rice wine out for the ghost. A
carefully controlled bonfire was situated in the middle of this community event; the villagers
hoped the warmth from this fire would reach the old za’s soul and warm her up again. Except
for the old za, not a single person was left at home, not even the children.
To round out the ceremony, the healer made a speech directed at the old za and her “ghost”,
wishing her well and leading the village in songs of encouragement, happiness and strength. At
the end, they sang one of her favourite songs: the Communist classic, The East is Red:
Dong fang hong, tai yang sheng, zhong guo chu le ge mao ze dong!
In the lonely little house, the old za smiled in her sleep. She knew, though, that her life
was coming to an end. The foolish healer did not know that the old za was suffering from
diphtheria, a disease with a mortality rate of 20%. And at her age, she was pretty sure she
would pass. She did worry about the village’s history with her disappearance, though.
And during the night, the old za let out a long sigh and closed her eyes for the last time.
The lonely little house was silent. So were all the others. Not a sound was made; not one
person noticed the death of their guardian. The stars above the village glinted as the village
fell asleep. They glinted as a cool wind passed through the village, chilling the people ever so
slightly. And they glinted as the old za fell into the deepest sleep possible, unaware of the chill
of the wind.
All was calm. At least for now.
***
The villagers buried her in a grave overlooking one of the most scenic views around; it
was on a hill near rice paddies, and you could see a magnificent mountain range just above the
village. It was truly the best place to be buried, though the view was blurred with tears.
It’s just that now, no one can remember their history.
Through a mask of grief, no one can remember anything.
All the villagers could remember of their history was the part about the barefoot ancestors
in the very beginning. They regretted refusing the old za’s offer when she was still alive and
healthy. Now, they have to start rebuilding their history brick by brick, plank by plank.
This is Dimen. A village with the chance to restart.
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Sam Foy and the Eternal Amulet
Ho Yan Mong, 11, Ying Wa Primary School
Chapter 1
THE TANGGULA MOUNTAINS
An archaeologist walked down the brown painted stairs, he wore rather dirty clothes, and
dark brown hair which had not been cut for almost a year, flowed down his head. The dirty
poor man walked two steps and made coffee in the kitchen. His house was surprisingly small
and full of rubbish: books about the Earth, and nature lay open on his small table.
The archaeologist looked at a sauce-covered calendar and said to himself, “A rock
mountain to climb this day.”
He was fit despite his poverty. Muscles flexed while he wore the expensive climbing gear.
He took a booklet full of weird looking words and opened the metal door in front of him.
Outside was the famous Yangtze River, not exactly the river but the source, the glaciers
of the Tanggula Mountains. The ice cracked while he stood, still looking at his booklet with
the weird words. The sparkling ice reflected the sun. High mountains stood still behind the
thinking man.
The archaeologist closed the book, and on the cover was written ‘Sam Foy’, that was his
name. Sam stopped thinking and started to climb the highest mountains of all. The mountain
was steep and sharp, every pull made Sam gasp. He climbed until he saw a cave, with ice
dangling inside; it was the most frightening cave Sam had ever seen. He checked everywhere
while gasping for his breath, collecting rocks. When he had finished, he made sure everything
was collected, and ticked his booklet. He cracked his neck and began to hike again.
After hiking for some time, he found a bigger cave on top of the cave he had just visited,
and went into it, checking stuff as usual. When everything was collected, he started hiking
back to his small house.
While opening the door, he heard a shuffling noise beneath his feet and “Bang!” a
large v-shaped snake burst out of the ground. It started curling up around Sam’s foot, his
chest then his neck, and started choking him with its long body. Sam was now helpless and
hopeless, the big force pulled him off his feet, he tried to pull his way out but the snake was
too strong for him.
As the snake was ready to deliver a lethal strike, Sam found a pocketknife between his
fingers and jabbed the venomous snake’s belly. The icy-blue snake struggled but still looked
fine, its head shot straight at Sam’s neck and started to eject venom at the poor man. A necklace
in the shape of dragons chasing a ball flew onto the floor.
While the snake bit viciously on the archaeologist’s neck, the archaeologist was trying to
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ignore the pain and starting to stab fiercely at the wound he made before. With his last strength,
he chopped the vicious snake into two.
He got to his house and wobbled through the kitchen. He tried to grab the bottle of yellow
liquor on top of a shelf, but his vision started to blur, he fell down on the wooden floor, gasping
for life and breath, but he could not give up.
His wobbly hand cracked the bottle of the yellow liquor, the liquor burst out the mouth of
the bottle and into the archaeologist’s mouth. Then he blacked out.
***
Chapter 2
A VILLIAN DECIDES TO CATCH AN AMULET
A high-pitched laugh echoed through the dark basement. A man in a purple robe turned
around. The sight of his face could scare an elephant. The man’s face was half-android, one of
his ears was gone, dry blood surrounded the metal tube; his eyes were full of red lines. A long
scar was still visible beneath the mechanical face.
He walked around the room still laughing. “Butlerbot,” he cried.
A huge armoured android marched forward.
“Yes, sir,” a deep, emotional voice said.
“Pack up my things and put them into our best ship, twenty droids are needed, and arm
yourself, we have an amulet to catch.”
The mad scientist pushed a button in his electronic arm, and a huge container ship floated
up until it was high enough to board.
Butlerbot came back with a small bag and twenty small different types of droids. The
mechanical butler opened the door for the mad scientist and got on the ship, which was heavier
than two hundred tanks, followed by twenty metal droids.
The container ship was huge even for an aircraft carrier. It was like a container ship from
the outside, but inside was like the biggest warship in the world.
The mad scientist slid into his telepathic seat and began to flip through the switches.
“Butlerbot, sail to China … Shanghai!”
A glowing screen shimmered to life in front of the half mechanical man, “Mr Avoc,
welcome onboard.”
The new-tech computer reported in a lively voice.
“All systems checked?” Avoc called out, tapping on a touch-screen keyboard.
“Yes, Mr Avoc.”
“Good, start engine.”
A humming sound vibrated loudly in the ship, and then a huge lift pushed down the
container ship until its whole body floated on the sea. They were in the middle of the Pacific
Ocean, gliding loudly on the blue sea.
After a few moments, red lights flashed on the big video screen, and then the computer
warned Avoc.
“Mr Avoc, we have two aircraft carriers blocking our way,” the computer boomed out.
“Ready our anti-ship missiles. I don’t want a war here. Ready, fire?” the mad scientist
commanded.
“Yes, Mr Avoc, fire when you want to.”
“Now.”
Three black, evil-looking missiles flew from the side of the ship. They glided smoothly
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and noisily to the visible aircraft carriers. Then there was a silent explosion, and the aircraft
carriers were gone.
“You like my upgraded version the US anti-ship missiles?” After the explosion, Avoc
asked his butler.
“It’s very good, and evil, my sir.”
“Thank you. Now stop that chit-chat, let’s go to full speed, I’m bored.”
“We’re accelerating, Mr Avoc.”
The computer replied, “Full speed now.”
“Okay,” the mad scientist commented and started humming.
Suddenly a loud bang shook the ship. Red lights alarmed them along with loud noises.
“The ship’s left engine is heavily damaged,” the computer reported strictly. “A frigate has
attacked us; they’re well-armed, return fire or escape, Mr Avoc?”
“Well, return fire with the mini missiles,” replied Avoc casually.
“Mini missiles are ready, Mr Avoc, but the frigate has already communicated with other
attack ships and five more will come.”
“Oh, good, let’s have some fun.”
After two minutes, Mr Avoc questioned, “Is the mini missile ready?”
“Yes, it’s ready.”
“Okay then, shoot them and turn to full combat mode.”
“But…Mr… “
“Now.”
“Okay, Mr Avoc.” Hesitatingly, the computer obeyed.
After a few moments of silence, the huge ship began to transform. The deck became
wider, and every metal box unfolded, and inside them were different cannons. After the
transformation, the old ship was now a shining battleship.
Meanwhile, six frigates had surrounded the battleship, firing missiles at it.
Inside the battleship, nothing bothered Avoc. He waited until the firing stopped and then
pressed a red button with a skull on it.
Millions of lightning bolts swarmed the six helpless frigates. Every corner of the ships was
covered with blue explosives, then … Boom! The whole surface of the ships turned to ashes.
All that was left on the sea was black smoke.
“Bravo, my sir, your invention was incredible, amazing,” Butlerbot said with a kind of
pleasing tone.
“You like it?” the mad scientist asked delightedly.
“Yes, indeed.”
“I really don’t want to wait. How fast are we going? It’s like, taking me a year to get to China.”
“We’re moving at 180 kilometres per hour, and besides, we’re in China now, Mr Avoc,” the
computer said automatically.
“Great, where?”
“Shanghai.”
***
Chapter 3
A LONG LOST SOUL ON GELANDANDONG PEAK
An old man wearing an animal skin watched Sam Foy with his large pupils. His white untidy
moustache swayed when the wind blew. His hands were skinny and full of bug bites.
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Beside him burned a weak fire.
Sam lay on a bamboo bed, the snake wound was purple and dry blood covered it. After a
few minutes, Sam’s eyes opened without power or focus.
“Yes! Yes! You’re alive!” the old man yelled. His voice was childish like a three-year old.
“Whuhh,” Sam muttered in confusion.
“All that carrying, it’s paid off,” the childish old man sang while jumping up and down
with happiness.
“Yeah, you know you are very heavy. It took a lot of time carrying you piggyback from the
metal house to my house. I couldn’t go and eat my snakes, and I couldn’t play with snow…”
The old man talked for so long, Sam got up, “Wait, you saved me from the snake bite?”
“Not really, I was trying to catch the snake for lunch, but I saw you. I thought it was better
to eat you. You cannot say I saved you. But …yes, you can say so...”
Along he went, Sam waited for him to stop babbling, but the old man could not stop. He
now talked about his life and then about food. Finally, Sam yelled at him.
“Stop! You’re so annoying. So you carried me here?”
“Yes.” The old man thought for a moment and continued, “But not really, that’s only halftrue. I actually pulled, and pushed you at times. So it is not an actual yes, as you know you’re
quite heavy and…”
He started talking again without reason continuously. Sam sighed. “The weirdest person I
ever met.” He began to limp towards the table with a tattered sheet of paper on it.
Suddenly, he yelled with surprise, “Wow! You are Professor Imere! All this time we
thought you were lost. So you’re actually living here?”
The man turned around slowly and sighed, “I was a famous and lucky man before but I’ve
lost all of it, because of this.” Imere pointed his crooked finger at the yellowing map, “That is
why I have lost everything – the map for the eternal amulet, I have been seeking it for so many
years, and it has fried my brain.”
“You ... you ... too want to find the amulet the emperor Qin Shi Huang wanted? The amulet
containing the medicine to make whoever eats it immortal?”
“Oh, yes. However, there is a lot you do not know. When Xu Fu the court sorcerer sailed
out to find the elixir of life the second time, he escaped to an island.”
“So you’re saying that that medicine doesn’t exist?” Sam cut in fast and with a little bit of
disappointment.
“Wait for me to finish.” The professor’s voice had suddenly become normal.
“Actually, Xu Fu had hidden in an underwater cave, which I perceive is somewhere in the
Yangtze River. Do not be mistaken, Xu Fu had really found the elixir of life. But he was too old
to control his army from getting it. At last, someone really ate it but was eventually killed by the
poison. Legend has it that only a person who is not greedy could have it, so it is true. With his
last breath, Xu Fu put the elixir of life in an amulet, and hid it somewhere that no one knows.”
Sam was now standing on the floor, waiting patiently for the old man to finish.
“So, the point is, I want to find it. But I do not know how to find it. I need your help.”
“Ok, you know what? I want to find the amulet too, that’s why I came here, I need your
help since you know so much. I can help you,” Sam agreed.
“Deal?”
“Yes.”
“And by the way, this thing lay fallen beside you when I saved you.” Imere gave Sam a
dragon shaped necklace.
“Thank you so much.”
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They shook hands for a while. Sam broke the silence by asking, “So … umm … What do
we do now?”
“I don’t know,” the professor replied childishly again. “What do you do when you’ve lost
your candy?”
“Uh, go find it?” puzzled, the archaeologist answered.
“Yes! So let’s go find it now!” the old man said joyfully.
“But uh, we don’t have any water or food … umm, shouldn’t we go get ready first?”
“Don’t worry, you will find your answer someday, okay? Let’s go.”
“Umm....” Sam hesitated but followed him.
They went out of the cave and on a journey that no one had ever had before.
***
Chapter 4
AVOC NEEDS A GIRL TO SOLVE A PROBLEM
Again, the gigantic warship transformed into a container ship to avoid being captured by
the police.
“Computer,” the mad scientist said.
“Yes?”
“Where’s our fake passport?”
There is a silent pause, and then the computer said, “We haven’t prepared it.”
“What?” frightened, Avoc yelled.
“How long do you need to make a false identity?”
“About ten minutes,” the computer tremulously replied.
“Oh no!” When he was scared, Avoc’s face twisted in weird ways. He thought for a
moment. “Everyone in the world knows about my criminal activities; the police will recognize
me without a second thought.”
“What about a decoy? Here the police aren’t very smart; they wouldn’t search our ship.”
After some quick thinking, Avoc said calmly, “Butlerbot, did you bring the decoy droid?”
“Yes, my sir,” Butlerbot replied.
“Good, I have a plan. Give it to me to make up.”
After a while, Butlerbot gave a jelly-like thing on a freezer trolley to the mad scientist. The
liquid-like thing turned to different colours in seconds, just like a fast-forwarded movie. The
freezer trolley kept the decoy droid from hardening.
“Butlerbot, make a copy of me,” commanded the mad scientist.
The bodyguard poked a few buttons on the trolley and a green beam scanned Avoc.
After a second, a globe-like shape started to form, it grew human-like hands and then a tall
faceless human body, at last details were added.
A clone of Avoc appeared in front of Butlerbot, standing still, waiting for a command.
Avoc said to his other self, “You’ll need to take me hostage in front of the police, but
do not really shoot me. When they attack you, try to fight back, but let them catch you, but
not easily.”
The other Avoc vibrated a while, and then he started walking just like the real Avoc.
“Good. Butlerbot, can you please give me the ‘mask maker’,” Avoc said to the huge robot.
“Yes sir,” it replied.
He began sliding it towards the mad scientist, and soon a large tube-like machine stood in
front of Avoc.
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“Make up whole body: Susan Lewis, a phone, T-shirt and jeans with flip-flops, and long
brown hair.” Then the mad scientist stepped into the tube, waiting.
“The make-up will begin in three seconds. Three, two, one,” a female robotic voice said
from the tube.
Avoc held his breath while a body jacket covered his body. Twirling metal brushes painted
and added the details on the body jacket. An 18-year-old girl’s naked body was now Avoc.
Then clothing was put on the body: jacket, T-shirt, jeans … just as Avoc wanted. After that, a
phone was put by a mechanical claw into girl-Avoc’s pocket. Finally, a voice changer machine
was pasted on the back of girl-Avoc’s head beneath the hair. Girl-Avoc stepped out of the tube
and a hole appeared next to her; she jumped in and re-appeared on the bridge just before a
police officer came in.
The clone-Avoc dashed out of the ship visibly for the police officer to catch. It grabbed the
young girl and seized her as a hostage with a gun in his hand.
“Stop,” it yelled. “Or she dies!”
The police officer froze for a while, and then five more police officers came and guns
pointed at clone-Avoc, sweating in fear.
Clone-Avoc started backing away from the police officer while the passengers screamed,
running away. However, unfortunately, it tripped and although it eventually held its ground,
but it was already enough time for the police officer to catch clone-Avoc. One of the policemen
grabbed its leg, and another one handcuffed it. That did not stop clone-Avoc. It opened fire
wildly at the police but failed to escape. A huge muscular body slammed at it. It staggered and
fell on its knees. The big policeman lifted up clone-Avoc onto his shoulders and walked away.
One of the policemen took care of the girl, and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m more than fine. That was so cool!” girl-Avoc cooed in delight. With the voice
changer, her voice was no different from a normal girl’s.
“Follow me; we have some questions to ask you.”
***
Chapter 5
RESCUE MISSION
Hiking slippery land in Lantern Shadow Gorge made Sam pray to the gods. Imere had not
even moaned after ten hours of hiking, Sam wondered if he was a ghost.
Sam walked for a few steps, then he couldn’t stand it – he collapsed on the slope and
blacked out.
Imere didn’t realize Sam had fainted, so he kept on walking until he saw a cliff blocking
his way. Imere thought hard, then started looking for a trunk, but no tree or grass were growing
on the land. He looked at the cliff again and then a container ship passed by just below his feet.
It honked loudly as it went.
Suddenly a big black titanium arm hit Imere in his stomach. The black figure made Imere
unconscious then threw him in a bag. The figure then jumped onto a ship with a great bang.
After that, the mysterious man took off his hat and … it was Butlerbot.
Sam woke up and found himself alone in a deep canyon. After he blacked out, he could not
find the professor.
He got up, lost on a cliff. The map had been in Imere’s hand. He was totally lost.
A dark figure sprinted by. Sam quickly asked. “Hey, do you know where I am?”
The black figure turned around, but then ran away.
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“Hey!” Sam yelled again.
He ran, following him. However quickly he ran, the black thing ran faster. However, a few
moments later, he came back with a bag on his shoulders, and then ran away before Sam could
say anything.
Hopeless, Sam crouched down on the rock. Suddenly he found an old paper, yellow and
torn. He kicked it away, frustrated, but then he realized it was Imere’s treasure map.
“But how could Imere drop this?” he thought. “It’s very important to him.”
He tried to recall. “But no, its impossible Imere had dropped the map; no one had even
walked past him.” Unless…
“The dark figure, duffel bag… he must have caught Imere, so he hid him in a bag, but
accidentally forgot the map.” He gasped with fear, and then started running towards the figure.
He passed through several mountains, and then the cliff that had stopped Imere stopped
him. He wondered, “Where did the figure go?”
He looked around, and saw a huge ship moving through the river, with the figure on it.
He quickly climbed down the cliff, and then spied on the ship, waiting for the right time to
jump on it.
The ship was now at his right, middle. Jump! He launched himself in the air.
The wind whistled by when he jumped off the cliff. His hair stood straight. He landed on
the ship with an unhappy ending. His ankle sprained in a bad way. He collapsed moaning. He
tried to stand up, but could not.
A robot thing floated towards him, Sam tried to get hold of something to help him walk,
but there was nothing for him to hold on to.
He struggled and crawled through the containers, finding some sort of a stick. The robot
was now close, he needed to be fast. A long sniper hung loose in one open container. Sam
spotted it, and then crawled faster. The archaeologist pulled it out and without thinking, shot
the robot in the middle of its eye.
The robot clicked and buckled, then fell on the ground lifeless.
Sam sighed with relief, and then started to walk with the sniper held between his shoulders.
***
Chapter 6
A ‘SHOCKING’ CURSE
The professor sat, facing Avoc with an expression that could not be read. They used to coworkers a long time ago on a science research project, but a serious chemical explosion had
blown Avoc’s head apart. Fortunately, with advanced technology he had healed himself, but
had become mad as a result.
The accident had made Avoc a mad criminal, wanting to take revenge on Imere. Avoc
hated him so much, he sent a bomb to Imere’s home. It damaged Imere’s brain, but failed to
kill him. Imere escaped to the Tanggula Mountains, hoping that Avoc would not find him.
After this, Imere had found the map to the eternal amulet, and then he had rescued Sam.
“Hello, Imere,” Avoc said with ease. “We meet again.”
“Hello, Avoc! How are you?” replied Imere, smiling.
“Good to see you too. Your brain fried?”
“Yes! How do you know?’
“I can tell from your eyes, they are gaping without focus.”
“How about you, why is your face gone?”
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“An injury from your stupid move.”
His face twisted in ways so strange it made him uglier, he was filled with hatred, sadness
and disappointment...
“Oh, that one, Poor little guy. God bless me, I got away.” The professor started to laugh.
“Now it’s my turn to laugh.” The machine and the burnt face couldn’t hide the happiness
on the mad scientist’s face. His mouth was smiling. He pressed a button on his chair slowly,
with anger and happiness.
Two handcuffs gripped Imere’s wrist, a metal helmet was placed on Imere’s head by a steel
claw and a metal suit with holes in it was put on him too. Then electrical lines were plugged
into the sockets.
“What is this? Avoc, I can’t move!” Imere cried out, panicking.
“Nothing, It’s just a video game.” Avoc was now laughing crazily.
Yellow lights ran through the power lines through the metal suit. Shocked, the poor
professor screamed with rage. He struggled, but could not move, because the metal chains held
him. He tried to get away from the suit but failed.
Electricity continuously ran through the armour, torturing Imere. Imere kept screaming,
but Avoc did not care.
The mad scientist turned a dial. On it were the words: “Torture”, “Pain”, “Worst” and “Insane”
Avoc turned the dial until the arrow pointed to “Worst”.
Sam looked around the flight deck, checking for clues about where the professor was. He
limped towards the bridge.
Sam opened the door to the bridge. He limped in, seeing if there were any guards.
Suddenly, he spotted a surveillance room; he hid behind a rubbish bin. Then he spotted a
monitor showing Avoc torturing Professor Imere in the control room.
Sam gasped with fear; he slowly walked out of the surveillance room, and then quickly
ran upstairs.
Imere bellowed in rage. His eyes poured blood. He felt more and more pain. His whole
body flexed uncomfortably. Saliva flew out of his mouth like water guns.
A crazy laugh filled the room. Avoc twisted the wheel to “Insane”, hands trembling. A red
button appeared on the chair, just beneath Avoc’s hand.
He pushed the button hard, and blue electricity ran through the power lines, and the
armour was injected by it.
Imere felt the high power electricity, he screamed for a second, then collapsed.
Repeatedly Avoc pressed the button. Every time the blue light went into the armour, the
professor trembled.
After some time, the professor’s skin was black, burnt. Eyeballs nearly popped out from
his sockets. His hair was straight, pointed to the sky, but just a few strands were left.
“One more should do it,” Avoc said finally.
He raised his hand, ready to press the button.
Sam tried to hurry up but always ended up falling to the bottom of the stairs. He decided
that using an elevator would be faster. He limped to the elevator and waited.
Ding! The elevator door swung open, but there was a droid in there.
Sam dropped down to the floor without thinking.
“What the…” the droid said.
Before the droid could react, Sam slid into the elevator and closed the door. Sam sighed
with relief; he pushed the fourth button on the elevator wall, and then waited impatiently.
Suddenly, the elevator stopped on the second floor, and without warning, the door swung opened.
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Sam tried to hide but there was no place. Another droid floated towards Sam, and then it
said with frustration, “Uh … Who are you?”
Sam replied, “You should know me.”
Then he punched it in its most important part.
During the fight, the elevator had come to the fourth floor – the control room.
He raced to the door, and yelled, “Stop!”
Sam raced to Avoc, and punched him in the face.
While Avoc flew off the chair, Sam unlocked Imere with a push of the button on the chair.
He lifted Imere, and ran towards the deck of the ship, and then he drove a powerboat off the
hanger, away from the ship.
Avoc climbed back into his chair.
Butlerbot stood still on the ground beside him. “Sir?”
“They can’t go far, let them go,” the mad scientist said.
***
Chapter 7
A DAM EATS AVOC’S SHIP
The ship sailed to the famous Three Gorges Dam in two hours. They stopped and waited for
the ship lock to lower the ship. They waited for a while, but nothing happened.
“Computer, check the ship lock,” Avoc said, annoyed.
“Mr Avoc, the security guards were playing QQ games on the computer, we cannot
download any information.”
“Stupid guards,” the mad scientist comments angrily, “Butlerbot, see how you can help
me,” continued the mad scientist.
“Yes, sir,” it replied.
Butlerbot jumped through the window and sprinted to the control tower.
After a while, Butlerbot came back and reported, “There’s no electricity in that dam now
and the guard is checking it.”
“I will not waste my time on this stupid dam!” Avoc yelled.
He pressed a few buttons on his chair and a screen floated onto the floor.
“Computer,” Avoc asked.
“Yes?” it replied.
“Is it possible to shoot through this ship lock?”
“Yes, it is possible, but it will collapse and the rocks will heavily damage our ship. Since
we are already damaged by the frigates, the rocks can sink our ship.”
“I don’t care, blast them.”
“With what, sir?”
“All of our ammunition!”
“There’s a great risk.”
“I said blast them!” Avoc commanded fiercely.
“Yes sir.” Unwillingly, the computer obeyed.
“And don’t forget, turn to battle mode, 1.2.3 … accelerate!”
The ship changed while it glided faster towards the dam.
“Shoot!” Avoc yelled.
Guns and cannons sprouted out from the deck, jets, tanks slid out from the side, just for the
weapons to fire.
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Winner of Fiction, Group 5
Millions of cannons fired at once, the noise was so loud that the glass covering the
warship cracked.
They kept firing, until the first ship lock collapsed. The huge warship tried to get away
from bigger rocks, but it was no speedboat. Rocks, scrap metal, fell on the warship, shattering
everything on the deck. A huge rock cracked the whole satellite dish on the control tower,
making screens darken.
The warship raced through the first ship lock, and then the second ship lock exploded
to pieces.
The cannons tried to blow away bigger metal or rocks before they reached the warship, but
could not. Rocks, shot from the sky like missiles, destroying everything; the whole elevator
sank in the sea.
They shot the third ship lock crazily, but the most powerful ones ran out of bullets. The
third gate had not really collapsed; it was broken into two. The two huge gates fell on the
warship, making the whole landing deck explode into flames.
Inside the ship red alarm lights blinked crazily. Avoc got hold of his seat, but an alarm
frightened him.
“The bridge is collapsing!”
Avoc quickly ran out the door, and sprinted down the stairs, crying, “Butlerbot!”
The stairs were breaking, Avoc limped down the stairs but it was too late. The stairs
started to collapse, splitting in half.
Avoc stopped; he looked around for an escape route.
Suddenly a window caught his attention. He climbed up until he could get hold of the window.
He shook the frame very hard, trying to break it, but it held strong. Suddenly, the whole
bridge fell sideways, making Avoc fly through the stairs.
He stood up, gripping a metal bar. A steel wall started to fall, and Avoc was trapped.
Nothing to do, he shut his eyes, waiting for his death.
Suddenly a black thing flew to the mad scientist, grabbing him, and jumped through the
window just before the whole bridge collapsed in the water.
It was Butlerbot. He grabbed Avoc and sprinted behind the air search radar.
“Sir, are you okay?” it cried.
Bulterbot suddenly realized the ship was nearly touching the fifth ship lock; he grabbed the
radio and cried.
“Fire!”
However, it was too late; the ship crashed into the fifth ship lock. It tried to crush it, but
the steel gate pushed back. A huge back wave pushed the ship until it touched the mountains. It
turned upside down while falling over the cliff, and the whole deck cracked into two, leaving a
huge pile of scrap metal.
Suddenly a small speedboat burst through the waves, with Butlerbot on it. It had broken an
entire arm, but it was still protecting Avoc.
It drove the speedboat in front of the Three Gorges Dam. Then it checked Avoc’s heartbeat.
It sighed with relief, not realising that a huge rock was falling onto him and the speedboat.
The rock slid down the cliff, crushing the speedboat, Avoc and Butlerbot.
***
25
Winner of Fiction, Group 5
Chapter 8
Devil’s Test
Sam drove the powerboat to a nearby cavern, and then heaved Imere’s half-dead body into it.
The archaeologist and Imere could barely get inside the cavern. He shivered.
The temperature was low. He saw a number of skulls scattered everywhere. The passage
inside the cavern was a small classic tube shape with mud covering the ground. Instead of
limestone, its walls were made of gypsum. A picture of dragons chasing a ball was carved on
the wall.
Sam shook Imere’s body, and cried, “Imere! Are you okay? Wake up!”
No response came, and he tried again. However, Imere did not even move an eyebrow.
Sam cried out loudly, full of sadness and hatred. He knelt down, and started to sob.
Although, they had just met for a short while, Imere was already like his brother, he meant
a lot to him.
Sam looked again at the dying professor, suddenly Imere said in a low voice, “Amulet…”
Sam jumped up, frightened. Nevertheless, he bent towards Imere again.
“Imere?” he asked.
Imere did not respond, but he kept saying “Amulet ... amulet …”
Sam thought very hard, “What is he trying to tell me?”
Then he figured it out.
“The amulet! The elixir of life! That could save Imere!”
The archaeologist unfolded the map; it was stained with water, making it hard to
understand. The arrows and pictures were disappearing because it was soaked, but then a
dragon sign and a horseshoe under a triangular form at the end of a line appeared. He gasped
with astonishment; he was in the cave that he was looking for.
Sam followed the path and found the triangular gypsum, and he removed the limestone.
However, instead of the amulet, there was a bunch of sparkling diamonds instead. Each of them
was as big as Sam’s fist.
Sam really wanted to take them, one of them could change his life, he could go on a trip to
the moon, he could control the whole Earth, everything would be his… Every thought pushed
him to take them, so he raised his hand, ready to do so. Suddenly, Imere’s warning flashed in
his head, “Only a person who is not greedy can take it…”
Sam woke up from his dream instantly; he pushed away the diamonds, and discovered a
notch. The notch looked like a keyhole to him. He paused for a moment, then pulled out his
pendant. The pendant was his family heirloom. He put it in the notch, the pendant fitted in the
notch perfectly. An old and rusty amulet rose up in the air. Sam grabbed it and raced to Imere,
then put the amulet onto his neck.
Imere’s burnt face slowly turned young and healthy, the wound and scar faded.
Finally Imere’s eyes opened. “Worth it,” he said.
26
Winner of Non-Fiction, Group 1
My Yangtze River Trip
Hazel Wong, 8, St. Margaret’s Co-educational English Secondary and Primary School
I
am a little raindrop. I come from the sky. One day, I fall into a strange place, it is a river.
I ask the raindrops, “Where am I?” They tell me I am in the Yangtze River in Qinghai.
Yangtze River, what is it? I am so scared. My friends then tell me many things about the
Yangtze River.
“The Yangtze River is the longest river in Asia.”
“The Yangtze River is the third longest in the world.”
“The Yangtze River is 6,418 kilometres long.”
“The Yangtze River starts in Qinghai, ends in Shanghai, and then goes into the sea.”
“Sea! I want to go to the sea.”
“Let us go together,” my friends say to me. Then I follow my friends to take a trip, a
Yangtze River trip.
During my Yangtze River trip, I pass through many deep valleys and I make friends with
many other raindrops, they come from other rivers and lakes.
“Hi! I come from Dongting Lake, which is near Hunan and Hubei. Nice to meet you!”
I don’t only meet raindrop friends; I also meet other friends during my Yangtze River trip.
Boats are also my best friends. Boats take food and clothes to other places and carry people
along the Yangtze River. Boats also take people and cars across the river. Some boats have
many rooms. People can stay for a few days. They can look around the Yangtze River.
If the people want to cross the Yangtze River, a boat is not the only way. They can cross
the river on a bridge. The Wuhan Yangtze River Bridge was the first bridge across the Yangtze
River. It is a bridge for cars and trains. It was built from 1955 to 1957. By 2005, there are 56
bridges across the Yangtze River. During my Yangtze River trip, I see different bridges at
Jiujiang, Yichang and between Nantong and Suzhou.
I have also made some new animal friends. They are the Chinese alligator, the finless
porpoise and the Chinese paddlefish. There are not many of them left, so I love them very much.
From Qinghai I flow with my friends for a long, long time along the Yangtze River trip.
I pass many cities, such as Chongqing, Jingzhou, Wuhan, Hefei and Nanjing. At last, I reach
Shanghai. I like Shanghai very much. There are many beautiful high buildings and I can see
many lights on the buildings.
Now I leave Shanghai. I go to the big sea, the East China Sea.
“Bye-bye, Yangtze River.”
27
Winner of Non-Fiction, Group 2
The History, Development and
Wildlife Status of the Yangtze River
Lo Tsing Sum, 11, St. Paul’s Co-educational College Primary School
T
he Yangtze River has long been one of the world’s most famous rivers, with an amazing
history. It shelters many precious and critically endangered animal species, like
the Chinese sturgeon, and protects many other kinds of wildlife, such as many rare
water plants, with a delicate balance of nature that is both fragile and unique. Apart from its
wonderful wildlife status, the Yangtze River has also developed swiftly, with new dams and
bridges being built constantly. More importantly, it possesses a great history: a history of
helping people thrive and farm and flourish since prehistoric times.
The Yangtze River is a mysterious, enigmatic and immense body of water with treasures
anxiously waiting to be dug out; a drawer full of secrets. The legends of the Yangtze River are
its biggest secrets, with tales of every kind, from dragon fables to mermaid lore. Ancient tales
tell us that many, many years ago, the part of the Yangtze River that ran near Yangzhou was
called ‘Yangzi Jiang’ locally. Some time later, Westerners heard the name and applied it for the
whole river. This resulted in the modern term “Yangtze River”.
Of the many interesting things about the Yangtze River, the three most important and
interesting are history, development and wildlife. All three of these have been studied for
a long time by historians, architects, scientists and many other people. The flabbergasting
courses of its history, its quick development and its precious, irreplaceable wildlife have all
been greatly treasured by most people.
Let’s start with history. Many studies reveal that the Yangtze River had contributed greatly
to the ancient Chinese, providing them with fertile soil, food and water. Human activities
were found in the Three Gorges area 27,000 years ago. Starting from the Han Dynasty, the
Yangtze River became even more important to the Chinese economy. It made agriculture very
stable and productive. By the Song Dynasty, the areas around the Yangtze River were among
the wealthiest in China. In the Qing Dynasty, certain areas along the Yangtze River already
contributed to a third to half of the nation’s revenues.
The Yangtze River has been used as the political boundary between northern and southern
China more than once on account of the difficulty of crossing the river. It has facilitated trade
between China and other countries, and has been charted by the USA in times of conflict
between the United States and France (on matters of Chinese trade). On the negative side,
it has experienced degradation, and many lakes have been cut off from the main river for
reasons like land reclamation and controlling disease vectors such as blood flukes that caused
schistosomiasis, a parasitic disease.
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Winner of Non-Fiction, Group 2
Moving on to development, being an absolutely perfect place for both building and trading,
the Yangtze River supports many dams and important bridges, and provides space for shipping
and trading between China and other countries. The famous Three Gorges Dam is one of
China’s biggest sources of electricity. Other dams, like the Gezhouba Dam and the several
unfinished dams on the upper portions of the river, have also contributed greatly to the nation.
As for the bridges, including one of the longest in the world, they help China in many ways like
attracting tourists and increasing convenience for traders, as the waters of the Yangtze provide
a good environment for shipping goods.
Last but not least comes wildlife. The Yangtze River is home to at least three critically
endangered species: the Chinese alligator, the Chinese paddlefish and the Yangtze River
dolphin. It is the only place in the world native to an alligator and paddlefish species, excluding
the United States. In 2006, the baiji, also known as the Yangtze River dolphin, was declared
functionally extinct after a six-week search failed to find any in the river. However, and also
fortunately, one was sighted soon after. In 2011, around 20 baijis have also been sighted,
although it is not sure whether those were merely a similar species or really a group of baijis.
Besides the Yangtze River dolphin, both the Chinese alligator and the Chinese paddlefish
are critically endangered. Both of these species reside only in the Yangtze River, but their
cousins – the only other kinds of alligator and paddlefish species – live in the USA. They are
both extremely scarce, with the Chinese paddlefish possibly extinct. Apart from the above, the
Chinese sturgeon is also critically endangered, and the numbers of the finless porpoises, which
are also threatened, have alarmingly declined over the past few years. All of these endangered
species have been deeply affected by water traffic, and their breeding habits have been greatly
disturbed due to the Three Gorges Dam, as it blocks the way for the fish and aquatic mammals
to swim upstream.
The Yangtze River has a wonderful history, a swift development and a rich natural
habitat that provides rare and precious species with a place to thrive. Development is good for
economy but bad for ecology. We have to learn to respect and know more about this river’s
great history, but most of all, we must try to balance development and wildlife. The future of
the Yangtze River – in all respects – is up to you.
29
Winner of Non-Fiction, Group 3
The Guizhou Road
Katherine Ko 13, Hong Kong International School
E
verything was a shade of brown; from the mountain that cradled one side of the road, to
the basin on the other that swooped in a gentle, aesthetic curve towards the dusty trees
way downhill.
I trudged, all alone, down the rocky, dust-covered road, breathing in the dusty air, listening
to the echoes of my stiff, solitary steps, and feeling nothing at all. It was as if someone had
vacuumed everything out of me, leaving me empty, like a book expunged of all its content. The
emptiness numbed my body, and froze my thoughts, so that I could only concentrate on the
vast expanse of road that lay before me, lethargically curling around the massive brown face of
the mountain.
Sitting now, I listened to the dull, rhythmic thuds of my heart, swung my legs over the
jagged edge of the road, pulled out my half drained water bottle and took a long sip. The water
had a miraculous effect: instantaneously, my mind cleared, and my body, tense and aching
from hours of hiking relaxed by a fraction.
I scanned the two ends of the road with my eyes, hoping and dreading at the same time to
see a sign of life. I knew there were people from my PEAK group in front of me and behind
me, but the feeling of anxiety did not recede. I was in Guizhou, China, a place I’d never been to
before; anything could happen.
I hadn’t always been so alone; we’d all started out together, as a group. Hours before, the
basin had echoed our excited chatter, and the sound of footfalls had bounced off the road.
However, our group had begun to spread out. People better at hiking had pushed on at the
front, leading the group, whilst those who were less proficient had lagged behind at the back. I
remained in the middle of the group, sandwiched between them.
Another hour had come and gone. Now we had begun to feel tired. Weariness had crept
over us and inundated our bodies as we walked; yet we carried on together, sure that the end
was near. After all, our PEAK trip leaders had explicitly stated that this was going to be an
‘easy’ hike, right?
However, as time passed, and we saw no sign whatsoever of the bus that was promised
to be there waiting, we had separated. Our PEAK group had spread out along the road, so
that by the end of the second hour, we were all either alone, or with only one or two other
people. I’d liked this at first, enjoying the rare chance of freedom as much as an early bird
enjoys the taste of its first worm. But as the hours went by, apprehension had begun to grip
me. Freedom turned into loneliness as I stared desperately at the desolate scene that lay
before me.
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Winner of Non-Fiction, Group 3
The road was a sea of brown, dusty rocks. These rocks stretched from one end to the other
without any pause or interference, and seemed to extend forever. I had no idea when and where
the hike would end. My PEAK leaders were wrong. This hike may have been relatively easy on
us physically, but it was hell on us mentally.
The murmuring sound of a truck’s engine pulled me out of my thoughts. I fought with the
panic growing inside of me. Suddenly, I felt more alone than ever. Fear stirred in my stiff body
as paranoia took over me.
The truck was right behind me now. I could hear music blaring out through the speakers,
and see a cigarette hanging out the window. I felt a rising urge to move, hide and get away
from this road of torture, but I couldn’t. It was as if some invisible force was holding me down,
pressing me onto the dry, cracked earth, forbidding me from getting up. I sat there, frozen with
fear, but not able to do anything at all. The truck seemed to halt, right next to me. The desolate
road seemed to be even bleaker than before.
Dread. All I could feel was dread. It trickled through me like a dark, polluted river,
washing out all the emptiness that had inhabited my body before. I stared nervously at the
truck, sure that it would stop and I would be abducted.
It didn’t. It sped on down the road as fast as before. Relief flooded through me. I managed
to drag myself to my feet, resisting the pain shooting through my body, and walk on, laughing
at the absurdity of my paranoia.
It was then that I saw the bus, parked squarely on the road directly ahead of me. I rubbed
my eyes, thinking that I was hallucinating. I wasn’t. The bus was really there. And at that
moment in time, the bus meant everything to me; it signified the end of my torture, and was
practically my heaven. Resisting the urge to run, scream and hysterically fling my exhausted
body into the bus, I walked, trembling with hope, into the air-conditioned space, as someone
informed me that I’d taken eight hours and was the ninth person to arrive.
As I settled down, cleaned myself up and waited for the others to arrive, I turned and
looked out the window. Instantly, a tingling feeling gushed through me.
The road had ended. It was truly over. But it wasn’t just the road that was over; through this
experience, I had changed too. The part of me that used to whine and complain about enduring
hardship was also over, and I knew I would never revert to my old self again. Though I had
not realized it then, I had grown much stronger in the process. In the situation that I was put
in, I could not give up. I had wanted to – multiple times – but I couldn’t. If I did, I would be
stranded in the middle of a road, all alone, without lasting supplies or any other resources. So
I got up, and kept going – until the very end. With this new realization in mind, I took one last
grateful look at the road and watched its long, winding body curl around the corner, retreating
back into its peaceful shell.
31
Winner of Non-Fiction, Group 4
The Decline of the Yangtze River
Waylon Chan, 17, St. Joseph’s College
T
he mild breeze was gently blowing southward, with the lush leaves from nearby trees
rustling softly. The picturesque landscape was a rare treat for the eyes. Barely a few
places remain where such luxurious greenery is left unspoiled and unscathed by human
presence. The misty green river was interspersed with rays of dazzling sunlight, sparkling like
polished emerald. The river was surrounded by ragged riverbanks overgrown with plantation,
with some barren cliffs and boulders distributed randomly and unevenly across the landscape,
adding to its veil of mystique and primitiveness. The sounds of flowing water, coupled with the
occasional clear, high-pitched chirps of birds, concerted a pleasant symphony of nature itself.
Swarms of fishes were swimming just barely below the water surface, moving swiftly and
deftly despite the undercurrents of the river.
This amazing, breathtaking scenery represents only a tiny section of the Yangtze River,
which spans an incredible 6,418 kilometres across China, making it one of the biggest and
longest rivers in the world. This unique river has been described as the cradle of Chinese
civilisation, and its history stretches back almost as long as its length. It has been the focus
of myths and legends, where powerful deities and spiritual beings resided inside the mighty
river. The ancient tales about the Yangtze are too numerous to be counted. It has been the
inspiration of poets, artists and philosophers alike, who in turn inspired the masses with
their works.
Described as magnificent and boundless, the Yangtze River has been at the centre of
China’s economic and cultural developments and advancements throughout its history. It made
land fertile for farming, making it possible for our ancestors 7,000 years ago to survive and
thrive. Most of the early settlements in China were located near the river, providing ample food
and water for the inhabitants to feed themselves and grow. Capitals of dynasties were often
located near the mighty Yangtze, allowing easy access to the enriching waters of the river. The
different tribes of China grew strong and expanded as a result.
As those tribes fought against each other to rule over China, the Yangtze became a
location of strategic importance. Many fierce battles occurred there, and some of the most
brilliant battles engineered by the geniuses of their era made their way into the hall of fame,
earning their permanent place in history. One of the most recounted battles was the Battle of
Red Cliff, fought close to the Yangtze in the Three Kingdoms Era. It was a fierce, large-scale
engagement, with none matching its size and importance in centuries to come. A battle of both
wit and strength, its decisive outcome shaped the course of China’s history, and many works of
classic art and literature were derived from this epic historic battle.
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Winner of Non-Fiction, Group 4
The Yangtze River also served as an important boundary separating Northern China from
Southern China, acting as a natural barrier at times. It created cultural differences between
the north and the south, diversifying the unique cultures of China. It helped mould a harmony
of various cultures in China, which continue today. At the pinnacle of China’s developments,
the Yangtze became an important source of inspiration for many great poets, philosophers
and politicians alike. Reflecting upon the majestic river’s strength and intricate beauty, lasting
pieces of literature acclaimed by modern academics were written. The Yangtze was truly an
integral part of China, leaving behind tales of greatness and glory.
But those tales of greatness and glory are, sadly, tales of the past. The snapshot of nature
at the beginning of this article is quickly fading away. Perhaps within a few decades, that place
will no longer exist in China. Since the 20th century, China has undergone a revolutionary
change. To catch up with the unprecedented pace of advancements forced upon it by the powers
of the West, China painfully underwent modernisation. In the latter part of the 20th century
and at the start of the 21st, brand new tales of the Yangtze River were being written. Those
tales were not of grandeur and brilliance, nor of breakthroughs and advancements, but were
instead woeful tales about its own imminent and impending destruction.
The once clear streams of the Yangtze River have unfortunately been turned into murky,
polluted waters. Since the opening up of China in 1979, massive reforms have taken place.
Existing systems were completely overhauled, and rapid industrialisation took place. Although
that created a lot of job opportunities and economic benefits, most ignored the industrial
pollution factories caused. In order to maximise profits, many businessmen in China ignored
or overlooked environmental regulations, which were laxly enforced, if at all. As a result,
tons of toxic pollutants are indiscriminately being dumped into the river, making the water
undrinkable for the lower streams, as well as killing the fish in the vicinity, upsetting the
marine ecosystem. The river is home to a wide variety of species, including three critically
endangered species, and a continued decrease in water quality would cause these species to
become extinct.
Currently, over 35% of the water in the Yangtze is regarded as below third class – water
that causes aquatic life to die and is unfit to drink. Experts say if the percentage increases
to 70%, the Yangtze will become a dead river without any living organisms, painting a dark
and bleak picture for the river’s future. 40% of China’s entire waste water output goes into
the Yangtze, with a staggering 80% of it untreated. As the usage of water continues to spiral
uncontrollably upwards, the problem at hand will only be exacerbated. Besides affecting
marine life, it also threatens the millions of residents in China who depend on the Yangtze to
get drinking water. 47 cities near the river, including Shanghai, currently suffer from a water
shortage crisis. Up to 170 million residents are now finding themselves short of water despite
measures to reduce water consumption. Meanwhile, to the woe of nearby residents, the Yangtze
is becoming more mercurial and volatile, with intermittent droughts and flooding, seemingly to
taunt and harass the residents with its immense power. The Yangtze, once famed for being able
to provide fresh, drinkable water to nearby inhabitants, now finds itself unable to perform the
role it has been performing for thousands of years.
The sad thing is that the decline in water quality is only one of the numerous problems
plaguing the Yangtze River. The loss of wetlands and lakes connected to the Yangtze is also
a problem we can hardly afford to ignore. Within the last few decades, we have constantly
been recklessly taking resources from the Yangtze to fulfill our own needs, without even
acknowledging its need. For better irrigation and flood control, many poorly designed dams
were built, cutting off lakes and streams from the main river. To create more living space,
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Winner of Non-Fiction, Group 4
the government authorised land reclamation projects without a second thought, substantially
reducing the size of the river. It exacerbates seasonal flooding along the river, as well as
creating potential hazards when flooding. These measures have had severe, sometimes lasting,
consequences on inhabitants living near the river.
Due to these actions, coupled with the siltation of the river caused by years of pouring
industrial pollutants into it, the Yangtze’s health is now at a critical level. Yet many are still
wantonly destroying the Yangtze, disregarding concerns over the potential damage this will
cause. What most people tend to ignore, however, is that the more damage you cause to Mother
Nature, the harder She will strike back at you.
Where the Yangtze River once brought prosperity to neighbouring areas, it now brings
death and destruction. On 11th June 2011, in Yichang County, Hubei, where the Yangtze passes
through and where the Three Gorges Dam is located, the streets were unusually quiet. An
uncomfortable silence hung in the air. There was an unnerving stillness mixed with a tinge
of sombreness. The air was clear and refreshing; a stark contrast to the days when the entire
city was covered in a thick blanket of photochemical smog. Cars were lying on the pavements,
overturned, their windows shattered. Some had their pipelines damaged, with slick oil slowly
dripping to the ground. Trees were uprooted and lay randomly all over the city. Traffic lights
and signs were nowhere to be found, knocked off by the force of the waves. Stores were closed,
and the electricity was out.
The water level of the pavements had now receded to a couple of dozen centimetres from
more than a metre high just hours before. Pedestrians were few and scattered, some wearing
military uniforms, with their clothes and belongings soaking wet. They were wading through
water, either to rescue those trapped under the rubble of less sturdy structures or to evacuate to
higher ground. Sporadic cries and wails of grieving friends and families could be faintly heard.
The flooding has led to over 30 deaths, displacing more than 450,000 residents and causing
over 1.5 billion yuan of damage in Hubei alone.
Along the Yangtze, the flooding has inundated considerable portions of nine provinces,
affecting over 31 million people. The facts are grim. Nature has had enough, and it is now
fighting back. Although the flooding cannot be blamed entirely on human interference in the
river, we cannot escape responsibility of amplifying the severity of the flooding.
In this recent decade, the Chinese government has decided to undertake one of the most
daring and ambitious projects ever attempted – the Three Gorges Dam Project. It was an effort
to wrest control of the Yangtze River and harness the powers it has to offer. The project began
work in 1994, and after 14 years of laborious effort, the dam body was completed. Although
still partially completed, with some turbines not fully operational, it is already the world’s
largest power station. It currently supplies electricity to 12 neighbouring provinces, and is
a large step taken towards curbing pollution and carbon emissions. However, blocking the
flow of the Yangtze might not be an entirely wise move. The Three Gorges Dam has made
areas downstream unstable, causing frequent major landslides. In the first few months of 2011
alone, there were 108 cases of reported major landslides. When the dam was not yet built,
there were virtually no major landslides in the vicinity. Wildlife has also been affected, as the
dam guaranteed the destruction of their habitat. With the Yangtze River being an ecologically
diverse area, serious repercussions might arise. Whether the Three Gorges Dam project is
beneficial to China in its entirety, only time will tell; but it is certainly taking a heavy toll on
the well-being of the Yangtze.
To make matters worse, the water source of the Yangtze River is now being polluted. The
Yangtze gathers most of its waters from the famous Tibetan Plateau. The waters then flow
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Winner of Non-Fiction, Group 4
eastward through Central and Eastern China to Shanghai, where the river finally converges
upon the East China Sea. The Tibetan Plateau has always been a semi-sacred area relatively
untouched by human presence, making it one of the most spectacular natural landscapes in
the world, with its high altitude, glittering ice glaciers and unique animal species. But as
modernisation barges its way onto the Tibetan Plateau, its surroundings are no longer natural.
Dozens of development projects are currently underway, with large slabs of concrete now a
common sight on the Tibetan Plateau. The ice water nearby is predictably not spared from
pollution, pushing the Yangtze one step further towards destruction.
Cries of help by the Yangtze River are being ignored by government officials and
the public. Pleas of desperation are being drowned out by the skyrocketing economic
developments. Tons of industrial pollutants from factories are still being dumped into the
river with tacit approval from local authorities. Hundreds of aquatic species living in the
Yangtze face the threat of extinction. Millions are now deprived of safe drinking water
originally taken from the Yangtze River. More are in constant threat of natural disasters,
which are, ironically, exacerbated by human acts on the river. Thousands have lost their
lives. Hundreds of millions have been forced to leave their homes. Trillions of dollars have
vanished into thin air. Yet, under these dire consequences, business owners are still given
a free hand in damaging the Yangtze. Environmental regulations are still not enforced.
Government officials are still giving the green light to land reclamation projects. And the
Yangtze is still in critical health.
Facing these accusations, some government officials have defended their actions by stating
that the factories causing the pollution provide the public with much-needed jobs to improve
the economy. They bring livelihood to impoverished citizens struggling to make ends meet,
providing brighter opportunities for those trapped helplessly in intergenerational poverty. They
argue that the additions made to the Yangtze River will improve citizens’ quality of living.
They claim that their actions are in the public’s interest. But is this the whole truth?
Factories do indeed bring money into cities, offering jobs and chances to the unfortunate.
What officials ignore is that the factories produce sizable amounts of toxic water, and with the
lack of water treatment before it flows back into the main river, it causes considerable harm to
the river. The treatment facilities will raise the cost of production considerably, making factory
owners unwilling to abide with environmental regulations. To maximise their profits, they
often approach government officials and strike a deal with them under the table. Some cities
compete with others to make their districts most appealing to potential investors, lowering
the environmental requirements and rules, sacrificing the Yangtze River for truckloads of
banknotes. However, these gains are anything but a reason to celebrate. The short-term gain of
wealth by citizens will be dwarfed by the long-term harm caused by the wrath of the Yangtze,
as more severe flooding and water-shortages are expected by experts in the near future.
Despite all this, there is still a glimmer of hope for the future of the river. The damage
done is not yet irrevocable, and we have fortunately not yet reached the point of no return.
In recent years, the government has started to realise some of its errors, and has put effort
into reconnecting lakes to the Yangtze River. Although this is a significant step taken by
the government, it remains inadequate in fully solving the problems of the Yangtze River.
Tougher laws and regulations on water pollution have to be drafted, passed and enforced by
governments. Additional projects on the Yangtze have to be vetted by experts and extensively
discussed before the go-ahead sign is given. Cleanup methods have to be proposed and enacted
by provinces to rescue the dwindling numbers of aquatic species in the Yangtze. Many efforts
will have to be exerted before the Yangtze can be healed of its numerous deep wounds.
35
Winner of Non-Fiction, Group 4
The Yangtze River has accompanied China throughout good times and bad, through
hardships and prosperity. This faithful companion witnessed the rise and decline of China’s
dynasties, silently observing the remarkable events it has been through. Defining works of arts
and literature throughout the millennia has made the Yangtze an iconic figure of China, an
embodiment of the Chinese culture. The Yangtze’s importance to China cannot be understated.
Now that the past is behind us, engraved on stones or written in obscure books hidden away, it
is time to turn a new leaf, and look to the future. With the support of the public, I am sure that
better and brighter tales of the Yangtze will be told before long, when the magnificent Yangtze
River is proudly and rightfully restored to its former glory.
36
Winner of Poetry, Group 1
A Superlative River
Clare Wong Yin, 9, St. Paul’s Co-educational College Primary School
From Shanghai to Tibet where the glaciers melt
Into me – like my sisters, the Amazon and the Nile,
I am a superlative river,
The Yangtze.
Known by many names, I have a long history.
Ships snake and slide across me,
Travelling through the Heavens River, Ten Thousand Li,
To know China you must know me,
The plate on which the sand scatters.
I used to feed the Land of Fish and Rice –
Now hydroelectricity blocks my path
But brings rapid progress,
And the five Tigers roar fiercely and
Claw
At my shores.
The earth’s spin slows as my dam turns,
I am a superlative river,
The Yangtze.
Sometimes I am tired and bitter sadness lingers in my heart,
Where dazzling emerald green water used to flow,
And the question no one will answer is:
Where did the dolphins go?
Sometimes I am teary and the golden maples try to soothe my soul,
Sometimes I am restless and I flood because I have nowhere to go.
Shanghai prospers and the Tigers grow.
I am proud to be the Yangtze on which the sand
Scatters – but where did my dolphins go?
I want my jade green water to be
Cleansed so it can flow
Freely
And I can feed the Land of Fish and Rice.
I am the heart where the rivers meet and the glaciers
Melt into a beautiful emerald green mirror,
People still come to marvel and
Ships still snake and slide across me,
I am
The mighty Yangtze.
37
Winner of Poetry, Group 2
Dear Yangtze River
Tiffany Wu, 10, St. Paul’s Co-educational College Primary School
Oh, Yangtze River, you are the one –
Long and slender, mighty and elegant,
Ancient but ever so energetic,
From West to East thy aura glimpses.
Oh, Yangtze River, you are the heart of China –
Defining yet uniting
The border from Qinghai to Shanghai,
You paint the colours of eleven provinces.
Oh, Yangtze River, you pass on splendid stories –
Of how the Three Kingdoms fought
The battle to greatness
To how the Three Gorges Dam killed
Our fear of floods.
Oh Yangtze River, you are the witness of our growth –
When the first wheat grows in spring,
And when the rocket shoots up the sky,
You sing and roar to applaud our deeds.
Oh Yangtze River, we are eternally together –
Your ever flowing water will milk our generations
As we march through centuries
Tall and strong.
38
Winner of Poetry, Group 3
The Yangtze River
An Gie Kong, 12, Sha Tin College
A glittering dragon,
China’s renowned,
From the Kunlun Mountains
To Shanghai eastbound.
Six thousand three hundred kilometres,
Spans across the nation,
All this fertile soil,
A gift, nature’s creation.
It snakes through the mountains,
Through forests deep,
To towns of rice paddies
And cities that never sleep.
Then used for irrigation,
Now for sanitation,
Steeped in history,
Worthy of preservation.
Yangtze, Chang Jiang,
An age-old legacy,
Forty-five million years,
This passage to the sea.
Enemies of the dragon mighty,
Factories, exhaust and waste,
Once beautiful; now sewage,
It is to humans this crime is traced.
Through it to Europe, Africa, and
even America
Zheng He’s Treasure Fleet, they went.
Out the mouth of the Yangtze,
The world to circumvent.
Why would we let jade waters
Morph surely into fawn,
Wouldn’t it be better
If pollution would be gone?
Every stop along the way
Has something new to add,
The hides, wool, copper and salt,
Aboard ships of nomads.
A glittering dragon,
China’s renowned,
From the Kunlun Mountains
To Shanghai eastbound.
Sichuan, passing by,
Live produce galore,
Trading silk for jinyin,
A cache of folklore.
39
Winner of Poetry, Group 4
Into the Depths
Ella Davidson, 15, Elsa High School
Soldiers march around us as they entrap us in this cave,
For a second
All is quiet
Only our pounding heartbeats,
And the rhythm of our breaths
Pierce the still air like knives
Outside we hear the eternal pulse of the river flow
As it carries the history of our people
Out to sea
The lifeblood of our nation for thousands of years
Swept away in a single wave
Vanished, erased
The shouting begins
They have found us
The river cries for our loss
It bleeds our blood
And carries us home
Behind the mountains
I can hear her
Where she screams from the depths of the ocean
I close my eyes
Float down the river one last time
And head out to sea
40
Winner of Poetry, Group 6
Killed By Humans
Tam Wing Hei, 16, Hong Kong Juvenile Care Centre Chan Nam Cheong Memorial School
My whole family was killed by humans
But they are not all fishermen
I tell you what
There is only one reason
People from places that are urban
Have come to destroy the environment
Rocks, sand, rubbish, TNT
Million friends dead in an instant
41
Fiction
Group 1
Fiction, Group 1
New Tales of the Yangtze River
Alpha Ngai, 6, Sha Tin Junior School
O
ne dreadful night, there was a storm. The storm was extraordinarily strong. The
storm was so strong that it caused flooding. The Yangtze River flooded and the flood
rose up the mountain in Yunnan. At the foot of the mountain, there was a small
village in Shigu.
That night, only young people and children were in the village. Uncle Ching and
Grandfather Ben were in the north fishing. The flood came up the mountain in the south. All
the young people were working in the field and the children were happily playing at home.
They did not notice the danger. When the flood and the storm came, the young people were
terrified but the children were still playing. Butcher Bo said, “We must go and warn them.
Otherwise, they will drown.” Butcher Bo hurried off. But it was too late because the flood was
all around them. The children were all very frightened but they could swim well. So Butcher
Bo decided to swim with the children.
When Butcher Bo was swimming, he found a treasure box under the river. Butcher Bo
carried the treasure box and swam all the way to meet Uncle Ching and Grandfather Ben.
Butcher Bo came up onto the boat with the children. The treasure box was tied up with a lot
of chains and an enormous lock. Butcher Bo could not open the treasure box. So he got an axe
and was ready to open it. But as soon as he raised up his axe, there was a gust of wind. The
wind became stronger and stronger like a cyclone. It picked up all the sand and stones on the
ground. All the people held on to the boat and covered their eyes. Butcher Bo peeked through
his hand to see what was happening. He saw a red dragon with spikes and a poisonous horn.
The dragon grabbed the treasure box. Butcher Bo wanted to fight back and save the people. But
the dragon was more powerful than Butcher Bo and snatched the treasure box and flew up into
the sky with Butcher Bo hanging on tight.
The dragon locked Butcher Bo into a dungeon of a castle. Butcher Bo shouted for help.
The dragon explained, “Don’t worry. I am a good dragon. There is a wicked genie inside the
treasure box. If you open the treasure box, he will make you his slaves. That is why I locked
you up.” Butcher Bo thanked the dragon for saving their lives.
Along the Yangtze River in Yunnan, there are layers of rock which make a steep cliff. It
is called the tiger leaping gorge. The people of the village painted the dragon on the cliff to
remember the dragon for saving their lives. From then on, the people in China believe that
dragons are good and brave.
43
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Mother Yangtze
Audrey Wang Xin Jia, 8, Shenzhen Regents Primary School
I
stayed in the frozen peak of the Tanggula Mountains for two million years. In the past
ten years, we felt hotter and hotter each year. One day, many of us turned into tiny water
droplets and rolled quickly down the mountains.
“Hurrah! We are going to get into our mother’s body for ten months. After that, we will
leave our mother’s body and be free!”
“Our mother? Isn’t the Tanggula Mountains our mother?” I asked with doubt.
“Our mother is the Yangtze River,” my sister said. “She flows for more than 6,000 kilometres
across China, drains one-fifth of China’s land area, and one-third of China’s people live around her.”
Suddenly, I felt a warm hug. I knew I was inside the body of our mother – the Yangtze
River. I looked at my mother. She was beautiful, clean and gentle. My mother smiled at us. We
cheered with joy.
We flowed south into Sichuan. My mother’s face changed. She looked uncomfortable.
“Oh my dear son, can’t you feel the soil is eroding into our bodies?” my mother roared.
“Yes, but why is it like that?”
“It’s men. They cut trees. The soil is loosened and rushes into the river. Animals lose their
home. Beautiful forests are turning into deserts…”
Sometime later, I smelled something rotten. “Where are we?” I asked.
“We are in Hubei,” my mother answered. “The river is highly polluted. The smell comes
from waste from houses, factories, farms and vehicles.”
“Our mother is home to some endangered animals, such as the Chinese alligator, the
finless porpoise and the Chinese paddlefish. They may become extinct one day if men do not
take good care of our mother,” one of my brothers added.
“Oh! How cruel are the men!” I said.
Suddenly, it started to rain heavily. The rain tasted sour also. My mother looked very
pained and angry. She roared and rolled. Water rushed in from all directions. Flooding along
the river was horrible. I could hear men crying for help.
I was really scared and cried, “Mom, this is terrible. Can you please stop it?”
However, mother couldn’t hear me, but continued to rush forward. Things were out of
control. Trees were breaking. Boats were sinking. Bridges were collapsing…
Then, I saw a big dam. “It’s the Three Gorges Dam! It is built to help control the floods!”
one of my sisters shouted out.
My mother then slowed down. We flowed through the dam. Soon, everything returned to
normal. My mother looked very tired. We were yellow and smelly.
At last, we arrived at Shanghai after ten month’s travel inside our mother’s body.
“But mom, why don’t you come with us?” I asked.
“I can’t go. It is my duty to feed all the animals in the Yangtze River. I can bear the pain,”
my mother replied.
“But…” before I could finish my words, I was in the East China Sea.
“Bye mom! We all love you!” we all waved and shouted in tears.
44
Fiction, Group 1
New Tales of the Yangtze River
Eleanor Cheung Hay Ching, 7, Marymount Primary School
O
n my seventh birthday, my mom gave me a beautiful glass bottle bought from her
Yangtze River cruise. The bottle was adorned with a vivid picture of a mermaid
playing with a baiji dolphin. The bottle was filled with water from the upper reaches
of the Yangtze River. When I opened the bottle, I could smell a natural freshness. It was so
relaxing. Imagining myself playing with the dolphin, I fell asleep.
After a while, I heard the sound of water splashing. When I opened my eyes, I couldn’t
believe I was floating in the upper reaches of the Yangtze River. The place was gorgeous with
tall snowy mountains touching the clouds and daisies scattered all around. The water was
crystal clear with lots of fishes swimming around me.
Wondering how I could float in water, I looked at myself. “I have become a mermaid!” I
screamed. “I love being a mermaid.”
I started swishing, swirling, twirling and whirling with my colourful fin. A dolphin then
came circling around me. It was the dolphin I had seen on the bottle.
“I’m the Goddess of the Yangtze River. Who are you?” the dolphin asked.
“I’m Mermaid Eleanor. Do you live in this cold place?” I replied.
“I used to live in the middle reaches of the Yangtze River but it has been ruined,” the
dolphin sighed.
“Where is your family?” I asked.
“I am the only dolphin left in Yangtze River,” the dolphin answered soberly. “Many
dolphins cannot find enough food because there are too many fishing activities in the river.
There are also too many giant ships that disturb our quiet life. Some dolphins were even killed
by the ships’ propellers. I am now living in the merqueen’s palace for shelter.”
***
Suddenly, a big fish with a thousand tails swam in front of me. “A monster,” I shrieked. The
dolphin then led me to the other side of the big fish and I found thousands of small fishes hiding
behind it. Some of these fishes had only one eye, others had none and some had curved backs.
“What happened to them?” I asked.
“Many factories discharge toxic waste into the Yangtze River every day. A lot of fishes are
poisoned and give birth to deformed baby fish,” the dolphin explained.
We then swam to the merqueen’s palace where I saw some familiar faces. “Hello sturgeon
fish and Chinese paddlefish! I’ve seen your family in Ocean Park,” I shouted excitedly.
“We want to take shelter at the merqueen’s palace,” both fishes chorused. “Please help us.”
The merqueen came to us. “Some fish species are extinct and many are endangered. Fishes
need a proper habitat to live and reproduce,” the merqueen said. “Only human beings can help.
Please teach them to respect aqua-life. We are part of the world too.”
“I have an idea and I must go home now,” I replied. I waved goodbye to my friends and
swam back to the shore.
When I woke up, I decided to write ‘New Tales of the Yangtze River’. I want everyone to
love and protect our Yangtze River.
45
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Thoughtful Yangtze River
Graham Wong, 8, St. Margaret’s Co-educational English Secondary and Primary School
I
n China, there is a river called the Yangtze. The Yangtze River is the longest river in Asia and
the third longest in the world. Long ago, there were many cities near the Yangtze River and
they were very poor. They had no money, no food and no water. The Yangtze River decided
to help the people. It gave water to them, to make their fields grow more corn and vegetables.
The Yangtze River wanted to think of some ways to make the people live more happily.
It found a magic box with some clever minerals. After the people drank from it, they would
become more clever. If they used it to water seeds, it would help the plants grow faster, so they
could make more food and make their cities stronger. The citizens wanted to thank the Yangtze
River for helping them. The people wrote some thank you notes, stuck them in front of flowers
and threw them into the river.
The Yangtze River felt very happy, but as the years went by, the people near the Yangtze
River became poor again. Over time, they did not do any hard work. Instead they just went to
the Yangtze River and shouted, “Yangtze River, you are the best of the best, you can find the
magic box and ask the clever minerals to help us make food, water, money and everything else
for us.”
But the Yangtze River thought and thought. Should it find the magic box with clever
minerals to help them? Sometimes the Yangtze thought, “They are so poor, I should help
them.” But sometimes it thought, “They do not do anything but ask me for the magic box with
clever minerals to help them all the time. I should not give it to them.”
So, the Yangtze River decided not to find the magic box for them and shouted to them, “You
should not always seek help from me, you should think of your own ways to solve problems.”
This time, all the people near the Yangtze River heard what it said and realised they were
wrong. They needed to help themselves and not just rely on the river. They should work hard
and think of their own ways to help their city and not just ask for help. They tried farming
animals and growing vegetables. They sold them to other cities to make money. They really
worked hard and then lived happily forever after.
46
Fiction, Group 1
A Story on the Yangtze River
Janice Chen Jia Yi, 8, Shenzhen Regents Primary School
O
ne day James and his parents went to the Yangtze River for a ferry tour. After
launching the Yangtze ferry, they went to the ferry restaurant for lunch. James wanted
to eat a burger but the restaurant served only noodles. James was very disappointed
and cried himself to sleep.
When he woke up, he found the ferry was very quiet. He ran around the ferry and found
that everyone was taking afternoon naps. He was bored and ran out to the slippery floor
outside, and …. Splashhh! … He fell into the river and was washed ashore by the tide.
Suddenly he saw a rock moving towards him. The rock came to James and said,
“Hello! James.”
“What! It talks!”
“Don’t be scared, James. It’s me. I am Gold, your tortoise.”
“Oh! You are!” James remembered his dead pet Gold. “Hey, but how did you learn to talk?“
“The day you put me in Victoria Harbour, I was not dead. I was just too sick to move. I
joined the other tortoises and swam all the way to the South China Sea. However, our leader
said that the South China Sea was too polluted. We all swam to the East China Sea and settled
down on an island in the middle of the sea. Later, I was sick again. My leader said I’d better
leave the sea and move to somewhere with fresh water. Then I swam to the Yangtze River.
Thanks, James! While I was with you, you used to feed me the vitamin capsules your mother
gave you. They made my brain grow fast.”
“Oh! Yes. I hated those capsules. I threw them into my pet box and told my mother that I
ate them. Hahahaha!”
“Gold, can you come home with me? I do miss you very much!”
“No, James. I cannot. I must wait for my wife here.”
“What! You have a wife?”
“Yes. We met one day while we were swimming upward the Yangtze River. My wife was
too slow and she was left behind. I am here now waiting for her.”
“Ok, Gold. However, I have to tell you some sad news. People here built a dam on the
Yangtze. Your wife cannot swim up here to meet you.”
“What!” Gold began to cry. His tears were salty and flowed into the Yangtze. Some fish
died immediately when those salty tears fell into the river.
“Help! Someone help me. Help Gold and the Yangtze fish! Help!”
“What happened to you, James!” When James opened his eyes, he saw his father looking
at him.
“Oh!” James found himself sleeping on the chair of the restaurant.
“You refused the noodles and cried yourself into sleep and shouted HELP.” said his father.
“Oh! Dad, I found Gold. He is still alive. Let me tell you what happened when I fell into
the Yangtze River.”
“Son, you slept here the whole time. It was only a dream.”
47
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Whale That Got Away
From The Sea Monster
Joshua Kim, 6, Korean International School
O
nce upon a time, there was a whale living in the Yangtze River. The whale liked to
play everyday. One day, the whale swam to the bottom of the river. Then something
dark was coming towards the whale. It was a sea monster. The sea monster caught
the whale. Then the whale called for help. But nobody could hear him, so he thought of a plan
and had a good idea. His plan was to use the booster in his pocket. When the sea monster was
asleep, he put his hand into his pocket and took out the booster. Then he put the booster on his
back and switched it on. The booster was very fast, but it was quiet. That’s why the sea monster
didn’t notice that the whale got away. When the sea monster finally woke up and noticed that
the whale was free, it was because the sea monster felt there was nothing in his hands. The
whale was very happy that his plan worked and he was freed. Then the sea monster decided
to go and search for the whale. But the sea monster could not find the whale and at the end he
decided to search for another sea animal. After that, the whale lived happily ever after.
48
Fiction, Group 1
A Farewell to My Friend
Kwang Tsz Wun, 8, St. Paul’s Co-educational College Primary School
A
s dawn broke, I jumped out of bed as a shudder of excitement ran down my spine. An
idea flashed across my mind. I decided to take a blissful stroll along the banks of the
Yangtze River.
I scrambled out of my house and started my journey to meet my friends. As I was
walking towards the Yangtze River, I caught a glimpse of the Three Gorges unfolding slowly
like a Chinese scroll. Marvelling at the breathtaking view, I suddenly heard a whistling
sound echoing through the gorges. I immediately stared at the turquoise water and spotted
a pitiful dolphin with watery eyes. When I looked at it carefully, I realized that it was the
baiji. Chinese legend has it that the baiji is a reincarnation of a beautiful princess. She
drowned herself in the river because she refused to marry a man she didn’t love. Baiji was the
“Goddess of the Yangtze”.
The dolphin was in agonizing pain. Her fin was injured severely by a fishing hook. Seeing
that her tears were trickling down her face like a never-ending river, I dived into the river
courageously and removed the piercingly sharp hook. Blood streamed down from her wound
and she cried out in pain. I bandaged her wound at lightning speed. After patting her softly, I
whispered to her, “Baiji, wait for me. I will be back soon.”
I scurried back home and got some fish for her. When I returned, the wounded Baiji had
already vanished. I was dreadfully disappointed. All of a sudden, I caught sight of my lost
friend again. She was swimming gleefully towards me. I pranced in delight and let out a joyful
cry. Baiji gazed at the food that I hurled at her. In no time, she gobbled up all the food. Baiji
popped out of the water and looked at me as if she wanted more. I made a pledge to her that I
would come back the next day.
Humming my favourite tune all the way home, I thought about how lucky I was to have
met Baiji. Just as I stepped into the house, my mum’s sobbing voice startled me. “My family
have lived here for generations. I can’t abandon my beloved hometown,” she wept.
“The Yangtze River has flooded thousands of times. This fearsome dragon needs to be
tamed. We will build a dam to control the devastating floods,” said the stranger proudly. He
continued, “Start packing now because the village will be submerged soon.” The man patted
my mum’s back and left. That night, I couldn’t sleep a wink.
Next morning, I darted to the riverbank, hoping to bid farewell to my friend. But there was
no sight of her. My heart sank. Tears began to stream down on my face. Baiji, did you leave
because the Yangtze will never be the same? If the Three Gorges region could talk, I knew that
it would plead for mercy!
49
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Secret Kingdom
Kylie Chan, 7, Kennedy School
J
udy jumped into the raging water to rescue Fang but she did not know how to swim.
”Help!” cried Judy. ”Someone, help us!” But no one heard her. Judy and Fang were
thinking they were going to be swallowed by the rapids of the Yangtze River not knowing
they were about to be saved by an enormous bubble instead.
Judy was a clever 10-year-old American Chinese girl who loved travelling with her parents
and her loyal Beauceron pet dog Fang and she enjoyed reading about mythical beasts. She was
excited about the cruise on the Yangtze River and visiting China for the first time.
Surprisingly, a small boy about the height of Judy appeared and startled her. They were all
in the bubble spiraling down deeper and deeper into the water. The boy’s name was Cai Long
(or multicolor dragon), a young prince dragon who could transform himself into anything and
had a body made up of rainbow colored scales that overlapped like the tiles of a roof.
“I will take you back to my kingdom one million years into the past, and show my fellow
dragons what I have found.” said Cai Long. Judy could hardly breathe. As the bubble spun
faster and faster, Judy saw clips of the people who lived by the river and how the floods
destroyed their towns. Then she fainted.
When Judy woke up, she found herself and Fang in a dark dungeon. Little odd looking
creatures like Bishop Fish, Hippocampus, and Remora, gathered around wanting a bite. Cai
Long unlocked the dungeon door and took them to see the King and Queen.
“Cai Long, lock these two up in the dungeon forever,” yelled the King, “so they will never
tell anyone about our kingdom.” “Of course, Dad.” said Cai Long. But seeing how Judy was
sobbing with fear, he quickly put Judy and Fang under the invisibility cloak instead. He then led
them off to the tunnel to go back to the future and said “Wear this mother-of-pearl locket. Every
time you look in it, you will see me. Let’s be friends. Promise to keep my kingdom a secret.”
Suddenly, Judy heard a loud voice saying “Please prepare for landing and fasten your
seatbelt. We hope you enjoyed flying with Pacific Airlines.” Judy woke up with a start and
looked around. She sighed happily because she realised that she was flying home with her
family. It was all a dream. But wait! Something sparkled in the corner of her eye. She felt for
the necklace around her neck. It was the locket from her dream! She was shocked and scared.
She quickly turned to her mom and asked, “Mom, where is Fang?” Perhaps it wasn’t a dream
after all. “Fang is in his cage, pumpkin. Do you like the locket Daddy got you as a souvenir?”
said Judy’s mother.
Judy was relieved but a little disappointed because the great adventure was only a dream.
50
Fiction, Group 1
Miracle Adventure
Phoenix Hui Sin Hang, 7, Marymount Primary School
I
t was the eighth century AD, a time when the Vikings were already a famous nation in
pirating and treasure hunting. Jack was an adventurous Viking child who loved to explore.
One quiet night, Jack and his friends, Lulu, Stephen and Charles, secretly set sail on his
father’s boat to a nearby island to hunt for treasures. Suddenly, a furious storm caught the little
pirates by surprise. All of their clothes were drenched by the sudden downpour. The little
pirates were terrified by the rumbling thunder that roared over their heads.
“Bang…” a flash of lightning struck them and they blacked out immediately.
The rain continuously falling on Jack’s face woke him up. He opened his eyes and glanced
around. “Hey! Wake up! Hurry!” Jack shouted anxiously.
Lulu woke up to Jack shouting, “Where are we? Why did our clothes become so strange?
Oh no! Why are we talking in this strange language?”
Before Jack could answer Lulu, Stephen pointed up to the sky and shouted, “Look! A huge
dragon is flying in the sky!” At the same moment, the huge dragon discovered them.
Jack shouted loudly, “RUN! We will be the dragon’s snack!” Stephen spotted a huge temple
and yelled, “There! We can hide there!” Without hesitation, they stretched out all the sails and
steered towards the back of the temple.
Suddenly, they heard a weak voice, “Hey…Hello…”
Lulu stammered in fright, “We were just chased by the dragon, and now we are seeing
a ghost?”
Jack grinned and replied, “It’s not a ghost! It’s a boy hiding behind the window over
there!” He walked closer to the window and asked, “Who are you? What is this place?”
The little boy answered, “My name is Xouming and I live in this village. This is the
Yangtze River.”
Jack asked, “But why is it so bleak now?”
Xouming replied, “A dragon lives here, and every few years, it comes out of its cave to find
food. When it comes out, the village floods. You guys came at a really bad time!”
Charles asked curiously, “Why are you here alone?”
Xouming replied shyly, “I was taking a nap in the temple. Everyone was gone when I
woke up.”
Lulu asked anxiously, “If the dragon discovers us here, what should we do?”
Stephen waved his sword and said proudly, “Don’t be afraid, I will use my sword to fight. It
will know how powerful I am.”
Everyone cheered for Stephen. Suddenly, a strong, smelly wind swept them off their feet.
While the little pirates were enjoying Stephen’s sword dance, the huge dragon quietly crept up
behind them. The dragon swept its enormous tail at them and they blacked out again.
When they woke up, Lulu shouted with surprise, “Why are we wearing these strange
costumes?” They looked at each other and they were all dressed in Chinese costumes. No one
spoke for a long while.
Jack turned to his friends and exclaimed, “This is an awesome adventure!”
The little pirates all cheered!
51
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
A New Tale of the Yangtze River
Yunah Frank, 9, Discovery Bay International School
L
ong ago, in ancient China, when water never existed, there lived a wise, peaceful and
brave dragon called Ping. This dragon was no ordinary dragon, though. Ping was a
very rare water breathing dragon who also talked! He had scaly, bright yellow skin,
round beady black eyes, which sparkled in the shining sun and soft, frizzy brown hair, which
bounced up and down whenever he walked.
A hundred years later, on a sunny day, Ping looked around and asked himself, “Why
didn’t I ever try to look for fresh, clean water? It’s ever so hot! I’ll just wait for a while.” A few
minutes later, Ping couldn’t take the scorching weather any longer, so he took off into the clear,
aqua sky and searched for lovely water.
Ping searched day and night until he journeyed the whole world and returned to his home,
with not much luck. On his way, he bought spell books and tried chanting strange spells,
looked for a wide range of sparkling flowers, stones and herbs, sang magic songs, danced with
all his might and created wonderful potions. Sadly, none of them worked.
Suddenly an idea popped into Ping’s head. It was a brand new idea. It was something he
had never thought of. It was marvellous, magnificent and outstanding! Ping could just shoot
water from out of his mouth and make a river! Ping realised that he had been so dumb, because
he was, after all a water breathing dragon. Anyhow, Ping didn’t get mad, or cross, or upset. He
stayed calm and relaxed. Without waiting, he flew around China searching for an appropriate
place to create the river he wanted.
After a while, Ping found the perfect place between two towering mountains. He huffed
and puffed, through days, weeks and months until he had completed his river. Ping took a step
back. “Ow!” he cried as he clutched his aching leg. He felt another sharp pain on his back. This
sudden action made Ping collapse onto the cold, earthy ground. He knew what was happening.
He was getting too old to continue his life. Ping had known that it was going to happen some
day. It was a rule that all the dragons in China knew. The rule was, ‘Whenever a dragon lies
down to rest, he will never rise again.’ Ping took one last gaze of the breathtaking landscape
and lay down. As he lay, Ping said just one word. That one word was ‘Yangtze’.
52
Fiction
Group 2
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Wish Pearl
Anahita Kaman, 9, Kellett School
I
t all started when I saw a dolphin in the Yangtze River, where I had gone for a swim.
I stared at it in wonder. I had never seen a dolphin before. Suddenly, with a flick of its
tail it started swimming away. I followed it as fast as I could without splashing much so
I wouldn’t scare it. I had been trailing it for some time when I felt some force pulling me. I
looked around and saw a whirlpool sucking me into its centre. Immediately I turned around
and tried to swim away frantically, but I was getting closer to the core. I was under so much
strain, as I was just about to surface, I blacked out.
When I gained consciousness, I found myself lying down on a bed of … seaweed? I looked
around me. There was blue all around me. I realised I was underwater! I was surprised I could
breathe. I sensed someone was watching me so I slowly looked up. Standing right in front of
me, 20 feet tall, was a majestic silver dragon.
I screamed so loud, a passing eel froze.
“Please don’t eat me!” I whimpered, hiding behind a fern in fear.
“Come out. I won’t eat you. I’m a vegetarian, actually,” he replied in a deep but friendly
voice, “I’m Yin Long.” I looked up amazed.
“You mean the one in the legend who used to be a boy but turned into a dragon?”
“Ah, you know about me,” he replied as he sat down on an enormous beanbag.
“Can I ask you something?” he said suddenly. I nodded.
“Well, in my legend the Prince Dragon gave me a pearl that would grant me every
wish, right? Well I lost it and I want it to turn myself into human again.” I gave him a
questioning look.
“You can have a wish!” he said.
“I am in!” I replied immediately.
“Good,” he smiled. “We start tomorrow.”
Yin Long woke me up at the break of dawn and we set off for the Prince Dragon’s palace.
“Getting to his palace is a one and a half day trip,” he said studying his map.
After a few hours of travelling past corals and caves, we sat down exhausted. I decided to
ask him a question that kept rising in my mind.
“After all these years here, why didn’t you find the pearl during that time?”
“The time wasn’t right,” he replied. “You have come through a whirlpool, bringing me a
friend. Certainly, that is a good omen.”
We started when I saw a Chinese man gliding past us. Somehow, I knew he was no
ordinary man. Maybe it was the fact that he was underwater, breathing effortlessly.
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Fiction, Group 2
“Yin Long…?” I said. He looked towards where I was pointing, went over to him and
brought him to me.
“Meet Qu Yuan. He says he knows a shorter route,” he stated.
“You mean the one who drowned and asked for rice, in a legend?”
“Yes,” Qu Yuan answered. I gaped at him. Being late, Yin Long suggested we settle down
for the night. We lay on the sand and I wondered what my Mother was thinking because I
hadn’t come home for the night. I was then surrounded by snoring noises from Yin Long and
Qu Yuan. I soon fell asleep.
Qu Yuan woke me up as soon as the sun rose in the sky, so we could continue our quest.
Suddenly an alligator swam in front of us with startling speed.
“A Chinese alligator!” Yin Long and Qu Yuan cried. “Hide!” I scrambled behind a rock
before it could spot me.
“Dragons are terrified of alligators too.” Yin Long whispered to me. Unfortunately,
Chinese alligators must have a good sense of hearing because it quickly turned its head
towards us spotting Yin Long’s tail. I saw Qu Yuan hunch up into a ball. Well if they weren’t
going to fight the alligator, who was? I broke off a long stick of coral and charged at the
alligator brandishing it.
I didn’t even get to fight it! As soon as I had taken a step, it backed off and swam away.
“Phew!” Yin Long said. “According to the Qu Yuan, the palace is behind that boulder in
front of us!” We scurried to the boulder and a breathtaking sight washed over us. The palace
was huge, made of glittering pearls of various colours. We dashed inside and found a majestic
Rainbow Dragon sitting on a sofa.
“Hello your majesty,” said Yin Long bowing down. “We would like the pearl of wishes.”
“For what need?” the dragon answered.
“I would like to be a boy again,” Yin Long replied.
“But you can’t,” the dragon said. “Don’t you know that now, as a dragon, you are immortal,
if you choose to become human again you will die instantly after all these years?”
“I didn’t realize that,” Yin Long murmured looking downcast. The dragon asked if Qu
Yuan and I wanted a wish. We refused. It didn’t seem fair that we would get what we wanted
and Yin Long couldn’t. We left in silence. Outside the palace, Yin Long suddenly smiled.
“There’s no point me staying sad,” he explained. Pointing at me he said, “But you must go
home. Here take this shell to remember us. Only one hour in human time has passed. I will cast
a spell to take you home. Goodbye, it was nice meeting you.”
Qu Yuan bid farewell too. I grasped the shell tight in my hand.
“Goodbye!” I called out to them as a whirlpool transported me back to the normal world.
I found myself lying on the grass of the riverbed. Could that all have been a dream? I felt
something in my hand. I opened it. Lying in my hand was a shell. I smiled to myself as I got to
my feet and raced off home for lunch.
55
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Yangtze’s Kindness
Ankit Kumar Misra, 10, Delia School of Canada
O
nce upon a time, a small boy called Lo Xiang lived with his parents near Wuhan on
the banks of the Yangtze River. They were so poor; they had to depend on the river for
their daily living. Mrs Xiang would grow some vegetables on a small patch of land,
while Mr Xiang would go fishing in the river. Lo Xiang loved to help his parents.
One day, when Lo Xiang was on a fishing trip with his father, he asked, “Papa, why can’t
we live in a city or a village, where I can have friends?”
“We have to live here because we can’t afford to live in a city, or even a village,” answered
Mr Xiang.
Lo Xiang asked, “But why can’t we go to Wuhan?”
“But even that is very expensive for us. And we can’t go and live in Wuhan because here
the Yangtze helps us, but we don’t know anything about the conditions in Wuhan,” replied
Mr Xiang.
“But if the Yangtze helps us here, why won’t it help us in Wuhan?” asked Lo Xiang.
Mr Xiang was getting impatient. “If you want to live in a city or a village, ask this river to
help you. It has helped many people, it might fulfil your wish too,” he said.
From that day on, Lo Xiang went to the river every day, and prayed, “O River, you are so
large and great. You have helped so many people. I know that you don’t flood and kill so many
people every year on purpose. Can you please help me? I would like to live in a city. I want to
go to school like other children. Please do something to help me.”
One day, they saw a young man drowning in the river. They saved the shivering man and
brought him home. Even though they had less food, they shared their food with the sick stranger.
Lo Xiang often talked and spent time with the stranger, who said his name was Fu Chang.
Mr Chang liked Lo Xiang very much. Every evening, when Lo Xiang went to talk to him, he
would find Mr Chang waiting for him.
One day, Lo Xiang told Mr Chang, “You know, I really want to go to school. I also want to
live in a city. But my parents just can’t afford it.”
“But you can go to Wuhan, right? I have heard that there are many schools there,” said
Mr Chang.
“But we can’t even afford to live there,” said Lo Xiang, sadly. “We just don’t have the money.”
After Mr Chang was fully cured, he thanked them gratefully and left.
A few days after Mr Chang had left; a messenger came to their house. “Mr Fu Chang has
invited you to visit his house in Shanghai,” he said. The messenger also told them that Mr
Chang was a rich businessman in Shanghai.
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Fiction, Group 2
Lo Xiang had often heard the people of Wuhan talking about Shanghai and what a great
place it was. He ran to the Yangtze as fast as he could.
“Thank you, O Great River. You have fulfilled my wish,” he whispered, excitedly. “Now I
can live in a city and go to school! Thank you! Thank you! THANK YOU!”
Suddenly, he slipped down the rock he was standing on and fell into the river with a big
splash! His parents heard the sound and came running towards the river.
“Oh no! Lo Xiang is drowning in the river!” cried Mrs Xiang. “Somebody help him!”
Mr Xiang dove deep into the water to save Lo Xiang. Lo Xiang was saved, but he was
found unconscious.
After Lo Xiang came back to consciousness, his parents found out that he was sick. So their
trip to Shanghai was delayed for ten days. Lo Xiang lay in his bed all day, waiting to recover.
After Lo Xiang recovered and his parents asked him what had happened, he just said that
it was the Yangtze’s way of hugging him.
Lo Xiang and his family started planning their journey to Shanghai. They decided to go
along the Yangtze River to get to Shanghai because they couldn’t afford any other means of
transportation.
“Where are we going to get food from when we are in places that are desolate?” asked
Mrs Xiang.
“We’ll eat fish from the Yangtze,” Mr Xiang said.
“That’s a nice idea!” Lo Xiang exclaimed. But they didn’t know that their journey wasn’t
going to be as easy as they thought.
After collecting everything they needed, they were ready to set off on the long journey.
“Let’s go!” said Mr Xiang.
“Come on! Let’s go!” shouted Lo Xiang, excitedly.
And so, they set off on their journey.
As they had planned, they ate food from the trees as well as fish from the Yangtze. They
had some unexpected problems like heavy rain and extreme heat on the way.
Finally, they reached Shanghai safely. Lo Xiang was delighted to be in a city for the first
time in his life.
But they didn’t know that there was a big surprise waiting for them. Just as they entered
Mr Chang’s house, he told them that he wanted them to live with him! “I will pay Lo Xiang’s
school fees. Mr and Mrs Xiang, you can work on my farm.”
Lo Xiang got a chance to go to school, a place that he had always wanted to go to. He
made new friends. The teachers were very surprised to see that a person who never went to
school was so good at maths, science and almost everything else that other students who had
gone to school all their lives asked him for help.
When Lo Xiang grew up, he became a famous businessman. He made several dams to
minimise the Yangtze’s flooding. He was very kind to both rich and poor people. Everybody
wanted to be like him.
57
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Rock of the “Waiting Wife”
at the Yangtze River
Anna Wu Jia Ying, 10, Shenzhen Regents Primary School
T
he lady who turned into ‘The Rock of the “Waiting Wife” at the Yangtze River’ was
not there waiting for her husband at all. The truth is she has been waiting for a clean
Yangtze River for thousands of years.
Thousands of years ago, there was a beautiful town along the Yangtze River. People there
cut down trees, put those tree trunks along the river and waited patiently for the next flood
to come. When the flood came, the tree trunks were washed into the Yangtze and floated
downstream. Those peasants would collect the tree trunks downstream and sell them in big
cities. Year after year, trees were cut, soil was washed into the river making the river dirty, and
living things in the river died.
The River God was worried. “I must save the Yangtze. I must teach these ignorant people!”
he thought.
One morning, a stranger came into the village. She looked very old with white hair and
skin that looked like the paper from an old book. “Who wants to live longer? Who wants to
live longer?” The strange old woman shouted. “If you don’t want to die now, listen to me, listen
to me! The river will flood tonight! Let’s run, let’s…. ”
“Shut up!” A peasant’s wife opened the door of her house and laughed at the old woman.
“What a pack of lies! How do you know the river will flood soon?” Another woman walked
out of her house and scoffed. The strange old woman said, “You will regret it if you don’t take
my words seriously. You people are destroying the Yangtze. You will be punished! Stop cutting
down the trees. God will reward you!”
“What? Stop cutting trees? Then what can we do to earn a living?” said the mayor of the
town who looked like a wise owl.
“My child,” said the strange old woman, “if you keep cutting down trees and let the soil be
washed into the river, the Yangtze will die and so will all living things that live in the Yangtze.
You will have no fish to eat. Stop and I promise that God will reward you.”
“What reward?” asked the peasants eagerly.
“Rocks under your feet will become gold,” said the strange old woman.
“Nonsense! We don’t believe you. Who are you? Where do you come from?” shouted
the peasants.
“You all need some time to learn the lesson,” sighed the strange old woman as she slowly
walked away and disappeared into the forest.
The peasants gathered together and discussed what they had seen until the sun set and the
sky got dark. They all agreed that they should not make the Yangtze dirty and cause the fish
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Fiction, Group 2
to die. However, they did not know how to make a living without cutting down trees. Then
everyone went home and closed their doors.
Less than an hour later, flood water from the Yangtze River rushed through the town with
a terrifying force! Torrents of water poured into the town and washed away everything.
“What happened?” The peasants and their families woke up from sleep and asked. In no
time, they were washed away by the flood. “Help! Help! Oooooooooh! I understand what the
strange old woman said now. God help me! I will not cut trees anymore! Help!”
The next day, when the flood was gone, people sat on the top of a hill weeping and praying
together to ask God to forgive them. Suddenly the strange old woman appeared. “I will bury
the gold deep under the ground. If you are good to the Yangtze, the gold will come up a little
bit every year. You will find the gold right under your feet when the Yangtze is clean, beautiful
and safe. I will stay beside the Yangtze and watch you people.” The strange old woman flew
slowly toward the hill and with a loud thundering sound, she stuck herself into the hill and
stayed there as still as a rock.
The peasants regretted what they had done very much. However, they did not know how to
make a living among those steep hills without farming land. They kept cutting the trees.
Not until the past few decades, have people started to know more about pollution and to
control the number of trees they cut down.
The rock the strange old woman turned into is still there. However, people forgot about
the truth and made up a story and named the rock ‘The Rock of the “Waiting Wife” at the
Yangtze River’.
I know the true story because my grandmother is a native of that town. Last year, during
Chinese New Year, I visited my grandmother. I asked her about the promise of the strange old
woman. “Do your people have gold under their feet now, granny?” I asked.
“Dear, yes. We have oil shale in the area. It’s better than gold.”
“What is oil shale?” I asked.
“Go Google it, darling,” said Grandma.
“OK, my great technical guru Grandma!” I laughed.
59
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Dragon,
the Beggar and the Baiji
Celeste Wu, 12, Diocesan Girls’ Junior School
T
errible! Humans never learn,” Yangtze grunted. The devastating news had just reached
him – land reclamation would begin 335 alligator lengths north. He roared in utmost fury.
After all, Poseidon, the god of the sea, gave Yangtze the dragon responsibility to take care
of the Yangtze River, but now… Breakers started to form as he thrashed around angrily.
Shing the beggar was walking back to his old hut. Gloomy clouds started to form and he
knew it was going to be stormy. But, as he crossed the Three Gorges Dam, a claw-like wave
dragged him down to the river…
Ying the baiji suddenly heard someone fall into the river. Probably one of those selfish
humans, she thought. She zigzagged her way out, and not to her surprise, she saw a man
struggling to resurface. However, his attempts were in vain. Ying felt sorry for the man. So
she decided to give him the baiji charm (which enables creatures to breathe underwater) and
carried him to her home.
All Shing could remember, was being rescued by a baiji. It (or rather, she) gave him
something and he was able to breathe. She settled him down on a comfy chair. “Hi, I’m Ying,”
said a shy voice that was unmistakably the baiji’s. Shing’s eyes bulged out. Baijis could talk?
After that, he politely (though a bit tongue-tied) introduced himself.
Ying let Shing rest for a bit while her parents discussed what they should do about the
beggar. Ying’s mom bawled in misery, “I can’t believe we sheltered humans! We’re the WBEL
(worst baijis that ever lived)! I insist we give him to the hungry Chinese alligators.”
Her dad said, “Whoa! Darling, that’s mean-hearted! I think we should ask him for help.”
Ying’s mom’s eyes widened. “We can tell him to stop his race from polluting the world’s third
largest river,” Ying’s dad suggested.
Shing started to wake. “What were you talking about?” He lifted his head groggily.
Everyone froze. Ying filled him in on the parts he had missed. Shing shook his head sadly, “I
told you, I’m just a—” Before he could continue, he fainted and fell to the ground. Ying’s mom
proudly lifted up a rod.
“Why did you knock him out?” Ying’s dad grumbled, seemingly displeased. “I was
planning to bring him to Yangtze’s palace, and this makes it easier!”
So the three of them (towing Shing along) ploughed through the water and arrived at the
palace, standing right in front of Yangtze. Ying and her parents bowed instinctively, and Ying’s
father quickly explained what was on his mind. Yangtze nodded in agreement.
Meanwhile, Shing blinked his eyes open and almost screamed in alarm when he caught
sight of the ferocious dragon. Yangtze swam to Shing until they were three centimetres apart.
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Fiction, Group 2
He sniffed Shing and explained what Shing needed to do.
Shing started to protest, “I’m just a puny old beggar! What can I do? I’m as useless as
drifting plankton—” But he was cut off by the dragon’s threatening growl.
“You are wrong there, my friend. You see, no one is useless in this world. Everyone is
created for a reason. Even the drifting plankton, they are a crucial food source to fish and
whales. Same goes for you.” The dragon’s voice was surprisingly calm and soft.
“I don’t want to get eaten like the plankton,” whimpered Shing.
“That’s not what I meant. What I meant was that no one is useless. Everyone can make
a difference no matter how small you think you are. Have you ever heard of a man called
Nick Vujicic?”
Shing nodded vigorously and grinned, “He’s an amazing fellow; he really is. Although
he doesn’t have any limbs, he can still be optimistic and give touching speeches to the world!
Who would have thought a man without limbs could be so… useful?” He blushed at the word
he had used.
Yangtze beamed radiantly, “Exactly! That proves that no one is useless! Now, listen. Next
week, Tuesday night, I will send a nightmare to all those who live beside the river. All you
have to do is to persuade them to stop land reclamation. If they don’t listen to you, foretell them
about the ominous dream. Also, I’ll give you these running shoes. They do the walking for
you, you will never get tired and will walk at the speed of sound.”
Shing obeyed at once. He made his way to the shore. He checked the surroundings and saw
the Three Gorges Dam. Shing was in Yiling, Hubei. He started his journey.
“Haha, you’re talking complete nonsense!”
People jeered and sneered at him when he spread the news. No one believed in him. Shing
didn’t care. He continued his journey. He soon reached Hunan. The same insults, same yelling.
Shing shrugged. Next, Jiangxi, Anhui and Jiangsu were warned. Everyone thought Shing was
insane but he simply ignored these foolish men. Last but not least, Shanghai. He reached his
destination just on time – Tuesday at dusk. After Shing finished warning the people, he dozed
off by the river shore.
Everyone who lived near the Yangtze River was fast asleep when the nightmare reached
them. It started to rain heavily. Everyone woke up startled when the storm came. Lightning lit
the surroundings with random flashes.
“Flood! Run for your lives!” someone yelled. There were muffled screams. Everyone fled.
The waves were the rage of an indignant alligator, crawling nearer and pulling the people into
the depths using its strong jaws. The people were being swept away. Everyone thought they
would drown…
So it turned out that what Shing said was true. Yangtze had found Morpheus, the god of
dreams, to help him send the nightmare to everyone. The people were guilty and frightened.
They quickly contacted the government and land reclamation was stopped. Better still, people
stopped polluting the Yangtze River. Yangtze and Ying couldn’t resist smiling from ear to ear.
The Yangtze River was saved from destruction.
61
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Flying over the Yangtze River
Charlotte Leung, 10, Diocesan Girls’ Junior School
T
he small city of Fengdu (豐都) lies on the banks of the Yangtze River. This famous
“City of Ghosts” has been linked with many supernatural stories. People believe that
it is the gateway to the underworld. Ronald and his wife Jessica, successful musicians,
business persons and philanthropists, owned a beautiful villa in the outskirts of Fengdu.
Danny, their 13-year-old son, was gifted musically. The family was the envy of the whole town.
The previous summer, Danny was bitten by a bizarre-looking rabbit in a nearby woodland.
He then contracted a mysterious disease, which made him weak and caused severe nocturnal
pain. He became depressed, temperamental and unreasonable. The wonderful music from the
villa that once enchanted the villagers was replaced by bouts of screaming and sobbing.
On my way to the villa, I stopped at a shop and asked for directions from the shopkeeper.
“Are you sure you want to stay there?” asked the shopkeeper, trembling with an anxious tone.
“I’m going to be the boy’s music teacher. He’s a promising pianist, I’ve been told.”
“Poor boy, who used to be so vivacious,” the shopkeeper sighed. “The house is
UNCLEAN, my friend. Many villagers have witnessed the ‘Rabbit Demon’ wandering around
the house during the small hours, disguised as a woman, all in white. Her green eyes sparkling
like hellfire. My advice: AVOID THE HOUSE!”
Despite the shopkeeper’s dissuasion, I arrived at the villa. Ronald and Jessica greeted me
warmly, but I could tell there was sadness behind their cheerful façade.
“You must be Neila. Welcome to Fengdu,” said Ronald. Jessica turned to a boy who was
standing behind her and said, “Danny, come and meet your new teacher.” Danny remained
motionless. His stare was vacuous and his expressionless countenance made me uneasy. I tried
to approach Danny but he retreated and started to shout at me, “Go away, leave me alone.”
“The boy can be moody sometimes,” Jessica spoke with embarrassment while Danny was
running away. “I’m sure you’ll be good friends very soon.”
For the next few weeks, Danny’s temper remained volatile. A minor hiccough would
trigger a tantrum. Ronald and Jessica did their best to appease him. Danny avoided me. The
piano lesson was the only occasion when he would spend an hour or two with me.
One day, I was playing Chopin’s ‘Puppy Waltz’ during the lesson. The music fascinated
Danny. He stood up suddenly, swivelled around, just like a jolly puppy chasing its own tail.
Then he barked at me happily, three times.
I started to see light at the end of the tunnel.
It was late in the evening. I was woken by the music from the living room. My watch
showed 4am. I went downstairs and found Danny at the grand piano. He was playing Mozart’s
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Fiction, Group 2
‘Requiem’. Danny stopped when he saw me. His eyes were red and watery. “Can you play this
for my funeral, Neila?” beseeched the poor child.
Sorrow grieved my heart and I put my arms around him. “Don’t be silly, my dear. You’re
not going to die. Go to sleep, good boy, it’s late now.”
“The pain attacks me at night, I’m scared,” replied the melancholic boy.
“How about a hot drink? I’ve got a special formula from my family, which helps me to
sleep when I’m upset. Trust me, everything will be fine,” I comforted. “Sit back on the sofa and
relax. I’ll play you some light music.”
Danny was drinking my herbal tea when I started to play Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’.
When Danny had finished the tea, I whispered to him, “Let’s start our trip. Close your eyes and
I’ll bring you to a wonderful place, far beyond your imagination.”
My music mesmerized Danny. He found peace and tranquillity. “I can hear the waves,”
said Danny, “and the gentle breeze is kissing my face. The serene moonlight …”
Danny opened his eyes. “Oh! Is it a dream? A hallucination?” exclaimed Danny in
excitement. “This is great! We’re flying over the Yangtze River! Woo-hoo, let’s join Beethoven
to the moon.” The Three Gorges passed him, followed by the Great Dam. Danny could not tell
how long he had been flying. He closed his eyes once again to feel the magic.
When Danny re-opened his eyes, he found himself in the playground of an institute. The
building looked dilapidated and it was surrounded by ruins. Danny walked inside and realised
it was an orphanage for the victims of the Sichuan earthquake. From a classroom came the
lovely and joyous singing of young children. Danny reached the outside of the classroom and
peeped through the window. The children were all handicapped in different ways. Although
they had lost their parents and some of their physical abilities, their stamina remained and their
high spirits were indeed touching. Danny was emotionally overwhelmed and broke into tears.
A new vision of life came upon him.
“My suffering is nothing compared with theirs. I will complain no more. I feel ashamed of
myself,” Danny thought. “Another story must begin. From now on, I’ll do my best to help those
in need.”
When Danny woke up the next morning, he was lying in his bed. There was a letter on
his pillow:
“I’m the green-eyed rabbit that bit you the other day. It’s all my fault. I thought you were
trying to hurt my baby and I reacted without thinking. I’m terribly sorry my poisonous venom
has caused you so much misery. My herbal tea should have cured your ailment.
Be happy and live well! Goodbye!
Love, neilA
A sudden wind from nowhere blew the letter from Danny’s hands to the floor. Through the
thin paper Danny could see the signature on the blank side – “Alien”. When Danny picked up
the letter, all the words had disappeared.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
New Tales of the Yangtze River
Colin Chung, 11, HKUGA Primary School
M
any years ago, two gods named Lo Fat (male) and Man Choi (female) gave birth
to three sons. The eldest was called Chang Lai, the middle son was called Yang
Hong and the youngest one was called Hoi Lam. Hoi Lam was the most playful
of all. Chang Lai and Yang Hong always helped with the housework. Lo Fat and Man Choy
were delighted. When Hoi Lam was five, he was assigned to guard the Yangtze River. When
he came down from heaven, he was amazed at the scenery. The trees were green and the
flowers were blooming beautifully. The water was peaceful; it looked just like a mirror. He
played with the fishes and ran around Sandouping, a little town in Hubei province. As a god,
he had mystical powers. He led the water to Wuhan and Nanjing, causing terrible floods.
However, Hoi Lam did not know that floods could cause trouble. Therefore, he continued
playing with the fishes and trees. Of course, he sent more floods to the cities like Shanghai
and Chongqing.
The people in those cities were very frightened. Everyone had to get to higher ground.
Unfortunately, not everyone could do it. Some pregnant women and elderly people were killed
by the flood. Some young men died trying to protect their families or friends. The people who
got to higher ground could not grow crops, as the ground was not fertile enough. Some brave
people tried to dive in the water to find survivors but they failed. When Hoi Lam came to visit
Wuhan and saw the mess, he was very worried that his father might punish him, so he tried his
very best to give the people food and save the survivors.
***
Things got worse when it started to rain heavily. The water level increased a lot and the
people grew more terrified. Hoi Lam thought of more ideas but they were likely to fail and
make matters worse than before. Soon, the people started to pray to stop the mess, and this
time it was Hoi Lam who became upset; he lamented in despair.
***
Usually, gods only help humans if the humans are desperate and this time they were.
When Lo Fat heard their cries and prayers, he did not feel bad, but after he realised his son had
done it, he paced around furiously. Man Choi cried and cried, her tears making the Yangtze
River salty. Lo Fat sent Chang Lai and Yang Hong to settle the matter. Chang Lai and Yang
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Fiction, Group 2
Hong were astounded to see the human world and totally forgot about the mission they were
supposed to accomplish. Instead, they travelled around China, to places that were not affected
by the flood like Hong Kong, Beijing, Tianjin and Macau. The people who were affected by
the flood started to panic. Many were dead. Hoi Lam knew that his father knew the flood was
his fault, but no one came to punish him. He sighed in relief. Meanwhile, Chang Lai and Yang
Hong were visiting The Peak in Hong Kong. They passed near a school where someone was
giving a lecture about keeping your promise. Chang Lai suddenly remembered that they were
supposed to go to Sandouping to punish Hoi Lam!
Lo Fat was very annoyed and disappointed. All of his sons had failed! Man Choi was
about to jump off a cliff when Lo Fat had an idea. He stopped his wife and descended to the
human world. Hoi Lam was easy to find, but the other two were more of a challenge. Chang
Lai and Yang Hong tried to find their father to apologise, but they were lost. Lo Fat used his
powers to summon Chang Lai and Yang Hong, he told them to find a way to stop the flood or
else they would have to stay in Sandouping forever. The young gods tried not to get worried,
but they could not.
Every day, they thought of everything they could think of. Hoi Lam wanted to escape, but
Chang Lai said someone would recapture them. They thought of helping the people, but that
was not enough to stop the powerful flood. Soon, the dry season came and the flood was over.
The brothers were overjoyed. However, a terrible drought followed. There was no electricity.
The people had to travel to the sea to get water; they also had to filter the seawater to get a
drink. Their lives were hard. Yang Hong was exhausted because he had to help to take the
water from the port to Sandouping, which was a long, tiring and unpleasant trip. The ground
was starting to harden. Everything was dying, including humans and other innocent creatures.
Who knew it was all the fault of the gods? Very few people knew that. The deaths were
unpredictable. The deaths made everyone’s heart sour. Everything was lifeless, not a single
laugh could be found, only sad cries of the people.
The little gods got together and had a meeting. Something had to be done or else the
human race would become extinct. They finally decided to sacrifice themselves to make a
huge dam. They turned themselves into a dam and controlled the rushing water and generated
electricity for humans. The people thought it was a miracle that the electricity started again,
the floods stopped and the people were protected by the dam.
Lo Fat expected his sons to deal with the problem for a few years, but it seemed that his
sons had been much faster. He set off to find them, but all he could see was a big and beautiful
dam standing in the sunlight. He realised that his sons had turned into the dam and was gone
forever. Therefore, he named the dam Three Gorges Dam. The people cheered. Everything was
better. Flowers bloomed, the grass was greener than before, fish swam peacefully in the ponds
and lakes, bees and butterflies flew around and the people were happy. Man Choi did not weep
for her sons, she knew that her sons had fulfilled their purpose and she was proud as a mother
could be. Everyone lived happily ever after.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Secret of the Phantom Tomb
Ethan Joshua Luk, 9, St. Paul’s Co-educational College Primary School
A
s the sun rose from the mountains, the same old man would push his rickety carriage
along the streets of Wuhan. He would hum and whistle leisurely. As he strolled down
the pavements, a colossal wave of people would rush to his carriage with eyes full of
bewilderment and hope. Every day, the story was the same from the old cart-pusher: another
archaeologist missing after risking his fragile life at the horrific Phantom Tomb. Some would
break down and cry until their eyes were swollen, some would stare at the old cart-pusher in
disbelief and walk back to their houses disappointedly.
That was the story that my grandma always told me, which I could never understand. It
was always a mystery to me. There was only a beginning but no ending or conclusion. Every
night when I lay in bed, I looked at the sky full of glistening stars and wondered about the
ending of my grandma’s story. No matter how hard I thought, I still couldn’t find out the
missing piece of the puzzle. I always thought: why did the story have no ending? Just then, an
idea swooped into my mind as fast as lightning. I decided to explore the missing piece of the
puzzle.
The following day, I visited my grandma. I plopped down on her lap on the rocking chair,
enjoying the fresh air and green shrubs of foliage.
I curiously asked her, “Grandma, what is the Phantom Tomb like? I want to go and explore!
Like Christopher Columbus!”
She stared straight into my eyes and said fiercely, “You are prohibited to go to the tomb! It is
extremely dangerous, ghosts and evil spirits will try to murder you! People don’t dare to go near
the Yangtze River because of this malicious and sinister tomb. The tomb is right on the other
side of our village. Luckily, we have the Yangtze River to protect us, or else we will all die.”
Grandma didn’t manage to convince me. I guess she had forgotten that I was already nine
years old! So, the courageous and the gallant me – Ethan – decided to go to the Phantom Tomb
with my sidekick, Ringo the Rambunctious.
I immediately called Ringo the moment I went home. He was excited and agreed to go and
explore this Phantom Tomb with me.
We met each other at the Wuhan pier. The sun was about to set, and we were pumped up
for the amazing adventure! We got ourselves some snacks, sleeping bags, a pen and a notebook.
The tomb was just on the other side, and it took us 50 minutes to cross the Yangtze River.
We arrived at the massive mountain where the tomb was. What a stunning sight! We both
gasped in astonishment! It looked so fierce and powerful, like a lion, but our hearts started
pumping and pumping. We knew there was no turning back.
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Fiction, Group 2
We crept up the sandy, filthy stairs. Suddenly, we heard an echo. We looked around, full
of fright. We held our hands tight. We knew we had to be very cautious. We went step by step,
hoping that we would make it safe to the entrance of the tomb.
Aah, finally! We reached the top of the mountain! We panted and puffed, it was like
running a 45km marathon! We were exhausted. A door with gold and silver all over it stood
right in front of us. We looked at each other, shudders of nervousness and excitement ran
through our bodies. Both of us were thinking the same question – Would we survive? Fate
would decide.
As we opened the door, it creaked and croaked. It was full of darkness. We turned on our
flashlights and tried to make our way through. It had an eerie atmosphere. We could see figures
and shadows dangling in midair. We held our hands tight. Sweat was trickling, and we took
miniature steps. We were so scared that this was the ultimate end of our lives.
I stuttered, “Ringo, I think we won’t last long. The ghosts have found their long awaited prey.”
Ringo timidly nodded his head. He couldn’t stop sobbing. I knew I had made a
catastrophic mistake. Our lives were about to falter. We huddled together and cried.
Suddenly, we saw something drifting in the midst. A ghost! We shrieked! Now I knew
grandma was correct, I should have just listened to grandma! But I knew we couldn’t give up,
so we risked our lives by walking a few more steps…
“Oh gosh!” we gasped in amazement. There was a note on the floor. Ringo got the note
and read it aloud:
Congratulations lucky one, you have passed the test and have succeeded. You have tons of
courage, great old lad. I’ve been hiding here for many years, the secret is there are no ghosts.
The people died because they committed suicide, they thought a ghost would kill them anyway.
But you went the all the way through and never gave up. Tell the world the secret.
RTP
Our story spread all over the village, the nation and the world. After hearing the story,
people were no longer afraid of the Yangtze River and began to use the river for sanitation,
water, irrigation, transportation and lots of other things. Not long after, it became one of the
most famous rivers in the world.
Ringo and I became famous and we are always receiving star treatment! For two boys from
Wuhan, this dream is too good to be true! We also have a new nickname – The Terrific Two.
Oh sorry! I must end there. I need to go for an interview at CNN with Ringo! Bye!
And RTP stands for Rick Terence Po, who was the old cart-pusher at the beginning of
the story.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Jade Dragon
Isabelle Pomfret, 9, German Swiss International School
O
n the banks of the Yangtze River, there lived a greedy emperor called Chang. He
had a long grey moustache that reached the tip of his toes and dirty yellow curling
fingernails that clawed the air and made him look quite terrifying.
He was obsessed with every tiny detail. If his moustache had one extra hair, he would
execute the hairdresser. If as little as one grain of rice was more or less than he requested, he
would throw the cook into the dungeon for a year.
As you can see, he wasn’t a very nice person and his kingdom was completely out of
control with his people gripped by terror. Since nobody wanted to work for the emperor, he
refused to rule the kingdom at all. Thieves overran the villages and disease crept into the land.
Basically, everything was a frightful mess.
The emperor had only one servant; an intelligent girl called Li Shuang. She was very clever
and often managed to find solutions to the king’s ‘problems’. If one side of his moustache had
one whisker more than the other side, she would pull it off with her chopsticks and so on.
One day, there was a problem she couldn’t get around. A jade dragon was stalking the
palace, swearing revenge for its great treasure that had been stolen by the emperor many years
ago. It hadn’t actually been stolen by the emperor, but one of his greedy soldiers who had given
it to the emperor for a bag of gold coins. But, as far as the dragon was concerned, it was still
the emperor’s responsibility.
The emperor told Li Shuang that if she didn’t take care of the situation, he would throw her
into the dungeon for life. Li Shuang had no idea what to do. She was a servant, not a brave warrior!
She had already tried to persuade the emperor to give up the dragon’s treasure, but it just
made him more furious, so eventually, she was forced to go and find the dragon.
Through clever hunting and questioning of local peasants, she soon found the dragon’s
cave. The opening didn’t look very comforting with skulls and bones scattered across the floor,
but she bravely held on to her white jade amulet, her gold fan and her small bag of food and
water. As soon as she entered, a brain-chilling bitter frost swept over her. Her mind went blank
and she couldn’t think, so she opened up her bag and scoffed a steaming pork bun.
Her senses returned and she carefully walked forward. She was now overwhelmed with a
tremendous heat bursting from inside her. Swiftly, she reached into her bag for her gourd of icy
cold water to quench her thirst.
Fanning herself, she sat on a rock with a crack running down it and what appeared to be
a strange red glow coming from deep within. The rock seemed to move and the crack became
wider. Li Shuang looked at the rock and saw a dark oval move from left to right. She instantly
realised what she was looking at – the giant eye of the jade dragon! Shrieking, she jumped off
her ‘rock’ and backed away.
“Sorry I frightened you,” the dragon said.
Li Shuang mumbled, “Excuse me Miss Dragon, but I was wondering if you could possibly
stop attacking the emperor’s palace … please?”
Unexpectedly, the dragon burst into tears, sending scalding drops onto the ground. “Would
you like it if someone stole your treasure?” she sobbed, her jade green scales trembling across
her back.
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Fiction, Group 2
Li Shuang shook her head in agreement.
“Exactly!” exclaimed the dragon, blinking away her tears. “No one seems to like that
emperor anyway. Why don’t we just get rid of him?”
Li Shuang was stunned for a moment, but after some thought, she quite liked the idea.
“How could we even do that? And what if we fail? We’d both be sent to the dungeon for the
rest of our lives!”
The dragon sighed, “What sort of an intelligent girl are you? He doesn’t have any
bodyguards to protect him so we can ambush him and you can be empress in his place! Easy!”
At that moment, the emperor was travelling along the Yangtze on his imperial barge,
decorated with gold and silver. In the corner of his eye, he saw Li Shuang riding on what
appeared to be a green cloud. As it got closer, he realised that it was the jade dragon. “Good,”
he smiled to himself, revealing his rotting teeth.
The emperor addressed Li Shuang. “Servant, I see you have controlled the beast.
Congratulations, now you won’t have to rot underground. I want you to take this horrible
troublemaker and lock it in the deepest, darkest dungeon.”
Li Shuang smiled, “Your majesty, I’m afraid that you are being arrested for executing
the hairdresser, imprisoning the cook, ruling the kingdom unfairly and stealing this dragon’s
treasure. What do you have to say for yourself?”
The emperor’s eyes grew wider and wider as she spoke. “What!” he shouted, erupting like
a volcano and spraying yellow spit all around him.
Li Shuang burst into a fit of giggles. “Guilty, dear leader. You, yourself are to be put in the
deepest, darkest dungeon. Be off!”
69
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Flood of the Yangtze
Jarra-Devi Sisowath, 9, The French International School of Hong Kong
O
nce upon a time, many years ago, there was a small town below the plateau of China
by the source of the Yangtze River. The town was called Kali, which is also the name
of a tree that is so strong that villagers have long believed that it would not burn in fire.
Every spring, the melting of the winter snow would make the level of the river rise,
creating a flood. But the villagers were not always aware of the rising water so had no idea how
to protect themselves from the flood. Two ministers, called Mr and Mrs Reverante, who came
to the village from the border of France and Spain convinced the villagers that their huts made
of mud and straw should be rebuilt with the strong kali wood. That way, the ministers said, the
houses could withstand fires and floods. The villagers agreed because they had so many trees
around that even building a palace would not get rid of this huge amount of wood. Sadly, the
ministers died of typhus a few years after the end of construction.
In the village was a girl named Alexa. She was the daughter of the two ministers. Alexa
was very wise although she was only nine years old. Alexa had shiny blond hair and a lovely
smile. On her neck dangled a golden locket that was given to her the day her parents died, a
month after her fifth birthday. Alexa believed her locket brought her good luck. She often went
to the river to gaze at schools of silvery fish swimming or to read a book on the riverbank while
listening to the sound of the water. The sound of the river reminded her of the song her mother
used to hum when she was a baby.
During the winter, when it became too cold for Alexa to go out to the river, she stayed
inside reading one of the many books her parents left or watching her grandma knit. One cold
evening after dinner, while reading Robinson Crusoe, her favourite book, given to her by her
father, she got an idea of making a small raft with fallen branches of kali tied together with
her grandma’s special wool. Alexa asked her grandma, “Grandma, do you have spare balls of
wool that I can use?” Her grandmother quietly put her hand in her apron pocket and took out
four balls of grey wool. “Would these be enough?” Alexa’s granny asked curiously. “More than
enough,” Alexa replied with a slight smile. Alexa took some wool and tied the small branches
of the kali tree tightly together. What she made really looked like a raft, much too small to
travel to a deserted island like Robinson Crusoe perhaps but big enough to hang her arms
around to float. By the end of the winter when the spring arrived, Alexa made so many small
rafts that she thought the entire village could use them if they wanted to. But would anyone
want to? After all, Alexa’s raft was only the size of a small tray. But she was proud of her rafts
because they were a product of her activity to beat the winter boredom. Besides, she used
nothing but exactly four balls of wool and fallen branches around the house.
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Fiction, Group 2
One spring day, Alexa was coming home from the river trotting happily through the
evening breeze. She entered the house and watched her grandmother knit on a chair, when
suddenly, the ground started to shake. Alexa peeked outside through a tiny wooden window of
her granny’s house and saw a HUGE wave of water coming her way. She quickly grabbed her
grandmother’s arm and shouted, “Grandma! Grandma! FLOOD!”
Alexa and her grandmother ran out of the house as fast as they could but it was no use. The
flood outran them in less than five seconds. Alexa and her grandmother slowly sunk down into
the Yangtze, passing curious fish of silver and blue. Alexa held her locket in her hand closing
her eyes. When she slowly opened her eyes, she was facing the back of her locket. Something
was written on it. Alexa read the tiny cursive letters.
“when water comes, wood swims.”
Alexa repeated the words in her head and suddenly remembered the rafts she had made
over the winter. She swam up to the surface and saw her grandmother floating on a tiny raft.
“Everyone,” Alexa shouted, “grab the floating rafts!” Alexa and all the villagers managed to
grab a raft each. They hung their arms over the tiny rafts and held on. The rafts made of kali
wood and grandma’s grey wool floated along the Yangtze all through the night. When the sun
rose, Alexa’s floating raft stopped at the edge of the dry land. One by one, all the floating rafts
came to the shore. Alexa, her grandma and the villagers rose to their feet. They were all wet
and exhausted. Suddenly, they heard the birds singing and butterflies dancing over the green
vast valley. Alexa hugged her grandmother and clutched her locket in her hands and whispered
to herself, “Thank you mum and dad.”
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Attack on the Yangtze Tribe
Jessica Tang, 11, Singapore International School (Hong Kong)
R
oaring water crashed into steep cliffs again and again, making water droplets splatter
everywhere forming a miniature rainbow beside the big and monstrous rocky
cliffs. Then it continued its long winding journey through this cradle of one of the
oldest civilizations, cutting out a great variety of landscapes and spawning a long string of
memorable folktales.
Along both banks in the upper areas of the river were steep gigantic cliffs that stretched
so high as if they could touch the sky. Few people had the courage and stamina to scale these
cliffs; except for the natives and the mountain goats.
On top of one of these tall cliffs was a small peaceful village.
People living in that village were born tough. They had to climb the cliffs in order to do
any chores such as grow crops, gather firewood, get drinking water … even go to the toilet.
Juan was a little boy living in the village. He was muscular with dark ebony eyes and brownish
coloured skin. Juan was very popular in school and his best buddies were Ski, Feng and Shui.
For years, they had a simple and very happy life, until the Japanese invaded China.
As the war dragged on, China suffered many casualties. The government had to recruit
more people. Not even peasants living in remote or hard to reach villages were spared. One
day they marched into Juan’s village and took the males for soldiers and the females for nurses,
leaving behind only the children and elderly. Juan was devastated at that time and helplessly
watched his parents leave with the soldiers until they vanished from sight.
“Now, Juan. You are the head of the family,” his grandmother announced.
“Yes, grandmother,” replied Juan and then walked slowly back to his hut. A few days
later, a messenger came to his house with the bad news that his parents had been killed in an
enemy ambush.
Juan ran up to the cliff behind his house. A sense of grief swept over him like a huge tidal
wave. Silent tears streamed down his face. Juan wiped them away and made a promise to
himself that he would one day avenge his parents’ deaths.
As Juan walked back to his village, he saw smouldering remains of their huts. “Who did
this?” shouted Juan, as the rage ignited his bloodshot eyes, to become a volcanic red.
“Juan! It was the Japanese, I heard them saying that they’ll bring in more men to flatten
this place,” replied his grandmother.
It suddenly dawned on him there was no time to grieve. He also knew that this could be the
chance to seek revenge. Juan sprang into action and gathered all the children to form a mighty
fighting force. They called themselves the Firearms.
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Fiction, Group 2
Juan stood in front of the team and said, “All right, we are going to defend this village. We
have the advantage of the cliffs. We don’t have guns and rifles, but we can put the rocks and
stones to effective use from high above the cliffs. If the enemy soldiers climb up the cliff, they
will be tired. That’s when we start throwing rocks and they will be driven down the river!”
Everyone roared in agreement and immediately went about making the necessary preparations
for battle.
At nightfall, they made a makeshift campfire to keep them warm. They sat in a circle,
casting huge shadows, and exchanged stories.
“Juan, are you sure that we are going to win?’ Ski asked Juan.
“I’m not sure but we have got to try,” replied Juan while he slurped down his soup and then
proceeded to send his two buddies, Feng and Shui to scout the area. The two dark haired boys
nodded and ran swiftly, disappearing into the dark night.
When the scouts came back and reported to Juan that they had seen two big boats coming
in their direction. Juan nodded and said, “Prepare for battle!” Ten children quickly picked up
their own weapons and followed the two scouts.
As they got to the edge of the cliff, they heard the Japanese soldiers complaining. “Zuki,
how come you did not tell us about this steep cliff! It will take us ages to get there with all our
heavy armour,” said a Japanese soldier at the front.
“Sorry!” Zuki said.
“Enough blabbering, now climb!” the commander with a sword retorted.
They climbed up the cliff with great difficulty. In the middle, Juan could hear them panting
uncontrollably, and that was the signal he was waiting for.
“One, two, three. GO!” shouted Juan. The children threw their rocks down at the enemy soldiers.
Ping! Pang! “Ah …Oh!” Down they went, one after another until the whole contingent of
enemy soldiers fell into the Yangtze River and were never to be seen again. After that, Juan and
Ski went to the shore and picked up all the weapons left by the enemy.
From then on, the Firearms had some potent weapons to fight with. Their reputation also grew
with time, attracting a lot of praise and many more new members. Taking full advantage of the
knowledge of the cliffs, they managed to carve out a zone that was much feared by their enemies.
When the war ended, many folktales telling of their heroism circulated not only in the cliff
regions but also far beyond the Yangtze Basin.
In the decades following, the Firearms army gradually died. The Yangtze cliff people
honoured the warriors by burying them in a traditional fashion. Big holes were dug high up on
the cliff to house their coffins, which are called the Hanging Coffins. That burial method had
not been used for hundreds of years, but the cliff people owed their lives to the Firearms army.
Still to this day, there lie the bodies of some of the young heroes who defended the life and
freedom of their fellow tribesmen.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Not a Paradise
Justin Mak, 10, Bradbury School
I
n a cloud above the mountains of China, there lived a snowflake called Little White. She
lived in her cloud-city with her parents. Her biggest dream was to go down the cloudto-ground slide to explore the world. This desire had been born from her many days of
looking down at two happy children who lived in a run-down wooden house playing in the
snow. She wanted to join in the fun too!
***
“It’s not fair!” Little White shouted the next day, after her parents refused to let her go
down the slide. Little White stomped up to her room, a storm of frustration raging inside her.
When she got to her room, her place of aloneness and thinking, she collapsed on her bed and
started sobbing uncontrollably.
As tears slid down, an idea sprung up. Little White would sneak out of her house to the slide!
A long line of snowflakes were at the top of the cloud-to-ground slide. Little White
trembled with excitement as her batch neared the front. This was it!
“Remember, the slide doesn’t go all the way down to the ground, only halfway.” A
supervisor said, “Once it is no longer underneath you, you can ask the wind spirits to take you
wherever you want.
The slide let Little White and thirty-nine other snowflakes down. They could feel the
wetness of their cloud upon their faces, cold and fresh. They could see other snowflakes from
other clouds, whirling around in the whistling wind. They could hear their own laughter. They
could taste their own exhilaration, warm inside themselves.
Once the snowflakes left the slide, many of them asked the wind spirits to take them away,
but Little White and some others chose to drift down slowly behind a family’s house.
Just as they landed, a boy and girl ran out into their snow-covered backyard. Little White
smiled widely. She was finally here! The biggest dream of her life had been achieved!
The children dived into the snow, rolling around. Suddenly, the boy threw a snowball at his
sister. It hit her on the back of her head. She shouted something, and then counterattacked. A
snowball fight!
All of this, Little White watched, spellbound. She was brimming with joy.
The boy piled some snow up with Little White in it, and shaped it into a ball. The children
were building a snowman! Gusts of wind threatened to blow over the snowman, which made
Little White look behind her. For the first time, she saw a river. It stretched long, further than
her eyes could see. All the snowflakes near the river were muttering: “Yangtze, Yangtze…”
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Fiction, Group 2
The Yangtze River! Little White had heard stories about it, but she never realised it was
right under her home!
Another gust of wind blew, and the snowman toppled over – into the Yangtze River!
Luckily, most of the snowflakes landed on leaves, and didn’t melt.
Now in the Yangtze River, the few hundred snowflakes began chittering and chattering.
They drifted leisurely in the Yangtze River. At first, they only passed occasional houses, and the
landscape remained bleak: white snow on black mountains, but then tributaries began appearing.
The snowflakes, excited as ever, became even more electrified. The tributaries forked off
in different directions. Some snowflakes decided to travel on to the tributaries, saying goodbye
and being rushed off by the current in another direction. Soon only Little White and a handful
of other snowflakes remained in the Yangtze River.
The snowflakes soon saw more civilization. There were small villages with stilt houses
built with logs and branches.
Some time later, the snowflakes noticed that something felt wrong. They spread their
senses out, alert and vigilant. It was Little White who felt it first. Her stomach felt queasy, and
she was unusually cold, like she was severely ill.
“Everybody!” she rasped. Then stopped. What was wrong with her voice? Swallowing, she
continued, “Something’s horribly wrong!”
All the other snowflakes gasped at the sound of her voice. “This is bad, very bad…”
From a few metres downriver, the snowflakes heard weeping. As they drifted along the
river, they discovered the source of the noise was a fish living in the river.
“What’s the matter?” an old snowflake asked.
“It’s the pollution! Every day, it gets worse and worse. It has killed my family! The humans
are almost as bad as the River Devil!” The fish’s face hardened with anger.
“So that’s what made me feel so sick,” Little White said in the croaky voice, realisation
dawning upon her.
“Oh,” the fish said, eyeing Little White. “I’ll bring the herbs up here for you.”
True to her word, the fish brought up some seaweed and placed them into Little White’s
mouth. Surprised, Little White felt a little bit better. As the snowflakes and the fish drifted
down the river, they saw more signs of the misery created by the pollution: dead family
members and incurably sick babies. It seemed that all hope the river animals had was lost.
With the appearance of more human civilisation as the snowflakes drifted along the
Yangtze River, they noticed there were fewer plants and sea animals. The river was filled
with dirt, industrial waste from factories and discharges from ships. Nearby, buildings with
pollution smoking up were seen. The situation was going from bad to worse.
“How am I going to survive this?” Little White wondered.
All the snowflakes soon became too sick to do anything. The sun was beating down on
them harder, and harder. They were all feeling very drowsy, when they had the sensation of
floating into the air...
***
Little White’s eyelids fluttered open and found her parents gazing anxiously at her. “Where
am I?” Little White murmured blearily. Memories flooded back to her. The slide, the Yangtze
River, the weeping fish, the pollution…
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I now realise the Yangtze River isn’t a paradise.”
Then she fell back to sleep again.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Jim’s Bizarre Adventure
Ko Yuet Kiu, 10, Pui Kiu College
T
his is the story of how Jimmy, an arrogant boy, turned into a caring young gentleman.
Jimmy was learning about the Yangtze River. One day, his teacher said, “We’ve been
learning about the Yangtze River for about a month. I’m sure you’ve already memorized
the books about it because we have read them so many times. Now we are coming to the end
of this module and we are going to do a project. I’m sure you have heard about the story of
Qu Yuan, the man who drowned himself in the Yangtze River, right?” The students nodded.
The teacher then said, “Now I want you to write a new story about him for your project.” The
students instantly began grumbling. Jimmy was complaining too. He thought this task was
hard and began sulking the minute he arrived home.
His mother knew at once that something was wrong and asked, “Sweetheart, what’s the
matter? You know you can tell me anything.” “Oh, leave me alone mum. I’m not your little
baby anymore!” Jimmy groaned. “Why do mothers have to be so disturbing?” he thought.
“All right pumpkin, but if you need me I’ll be right in the kitchen.” Then his mother muttered.
“Perhaps some chocolate cake will do him good.”
Suddenly, a puff of smoke raised through the air of his bedroom, then out of the mist
appeared an old man. “Mum, is this some kind of joke? What is this old man doing in our
house? Is he our visitor?” “Can’t hear you, the chocolate cake is in the oven sweetie, don’t
want it to get burnt, do we? Wait a minute, honey. I’ll be up in a jiffy. Finish your homework!”
Jimmy, being a curious boy, asked without thinking, “Who are you?” The old man smiled and
said, “That’s for you to find out.” Jimmy thought, “This man looks like …Qu Yuan!” After
that, the furniture of Jimmy’s bedroom immediately began fading.
Not long after, he found himself next to a river – the Yangtze River! To his surprise,
the patriotic Qu Yuan was about to throw himself into the river before he was stopped by
enemy soldiers sent by the wicked emperor. Before he could flee, Jimmy was caught by
the soldiers too. Now he was on shore, Qu Yuan seemed a bit mad about the incident and
demanded, “Can’t you see that I think life is not worth living? I tried to kill myself because
the emperor won’t listen to my advice, you ruined my plan! Don’t you know that I think life
is hopeless?”
The soldiers sniggered and told Qu Yuan they were going to send him to the emperor and
get a reward. Jimmy was terrified and warned Qu Yuan that if history was changed, there
would be no Dragon Boat Festival in the future. During lunchtime, the wise poet thought of a
plan. Qu Yuan mysteriously smiled and told the stupid soldiers, “Don’t give me this awful rice
anymore! It smells disgusting!”
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“Oh yeah,” said the captain, “it was not like that before. It’s because the man who used to
take the rubbish away left his job, and nobody was willing to be the garbage man because of
the meagre income. So we have no choice but dump the rubbish in the sea, sorry about that!
But we suffer too. We have no fish to eat because they are all polluted. We only eat vegetables
now.” “You are right, the fishes are not only polluted, they suffer from food poisoning! And
yeah, the rice is cooked with the water from the river and is probably poisonous. It’s practically
inedible. Am I supposed to eat that stuff?”
The soldiers then asked, “My fellow Qu Yuan, so wise and mature, what is the solution to
this horrible problem?” Qu Yuan said, “In my memories, I once went to Hawaii. I was sailing
that day when I got lost. I saw an island ahead, so I went ashore. I didn’t know the island was
home to a wise old man, he was famous around the world for his knowledge. Since I met this
man, I asked if there was any food or potion to make the dead return to life. He said salt is both
nutritious and delicious. It feeds the dead, not only that, one in a million even returns to life.”
Meanwhile, Jimmy looked bewildered. Regenerating the river with salt was never taught
by his teacher. He was frantically taking notes, hoping this would help him with his “New
Story of the Yangtze River” essay. “I really need this for my essay. If I get this all in my
notebook, I’ll get high marks. I’ll get the newest Gundam toy as a prize. Now just do me a
favour, go on,” Jimmy muttered, “keep talking.”
The foolish soldiers, who believed every word they heard, gathered all the salt they
could find from the village and poured it into the river, hoping to rejuvenate the fish. Jimmy
and Qu Yuan escaped from their guards while they were busy gathering salt. Tragically, Qu
Yuan drowned himself again in order not to change history. The fish, already suffering from
pollution, could not bear living in a salty condition and swam away. The unlucky ones, who
weren’t fast enough, died, making the river more polluted then ever. The idiotic soldiers had to
move away because drinking water was no longer available.
Jimmy was inspired by Qu Yuan’s care for the environment and love for his country. He
put down what he learnt in his essay and got a perfect score. His teacher was surprised and
rewarded him since he appreciated his effort and creativity.
When Jimmy got home, the scent of chocolate cake was in the air, and when his mother
came he murmured, “All’s well that ends well.” “I beg your pardon,” his mother asked.
“Nothing, Mom,” Jimmy answered. “So what’s your problem my dear?” his mother asked.
“Forget about it, I was just joking,” Jimmy replied. “Then how about some chocolate cake!” his
mother asked. “Who would say no?” Jimmy praised and ate the delicious chocolate cake.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Talking Tree
Leonard Yip, 10, Singapore International School (Hong Kong)
T
here was once a poor and old fisherman. His name was Xiao Yu. He had always
limped quite badly as he walked; the bones in his leg were also visible. Xiao Yu’s
house was a shabby hut with shattered windows. He always went to the Yangtze River
to fish for food. He sailed in his old small boat hoping to catch a large fish. He was too poor
to support a family.
One sunny and bright day, the sun dazzling on the surface of the river, Xiao Yu was sailing
in search of fish. While he was looking in another direction, his boat suddenly bumped into
something hard, it made the wood crack. Xiao Yu abruptly turned around and saw a massive
tree with extremely long vines hanging from the branches, growing on a small island. The old
fisherman thought, “I don’t remember ever seeing this tree!!”
“I am a very special tree and I emerge every hundred years. I know many places where
you can find treasures but I speak in a language that nobody understands” said the tree in a
very deep voice. Xiao Yu strangely understood what he was saying. Astonished, he hopped off
the boat and went on the small island. The tree continued, “You are the only one who can hear
and understand me, you are lucky even though you are poor.” Xiao Yu almost fainted and had
to pinched himself to make sure this was not a dream. The tree spoke again in the same deep
voice, “I will tell you where you can find a treasure because you have never polluted the river
when you fish, you’ve never used a net to catch too many fish and you never feel discouraged
when you cannot catch any fish either.” The tree told him where to find the treasure, which
was very far away from Xiao Yu’s house and in the city. The tree stretched out a vine, shuffled
through its leaves and took out a map, which indicated where the treasure was. Xiao Yu
thanked the tree and set off to find the treasure.
***
The map stated that he had to sail to the end of the Yangtze River, which was about 6,418
kilometers. On the way, Xiao Yu saw hundreds of poor people living just like him, living
in old huts and living off fish. When he got to his destination, he felt exhausted. It took him
six months! Xiao Yu found the treasure where the map had indicated. He saw the crystal
shimmering in the sunlight. Xiao Yu was on cloud nine, he was dancing around the boat and
jumping in and out of the water.
On his journey home, Xiao Yu saw the same poor people holding their bellies and crying
of hunger. He felt very sorry for them and gave each of them part of the treasure in exchange
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for fish. By the time Xiao Yu returned home, he had helped so many suffering people , he
found out that he had very little treasure left but lots of fish.
Xiao Yu really wished to find the talking tree because he wanted to tell him his story, but
the tree was not there. Instead, he found a big and beautiful stilt house built exactly where the
tree had stood. There was a note on the door that said:
Xiao Yu, you have proved that you are a very compassionate and generous man. This stilt
house is for you. Living here, I am sure that you will always be grateful to the big Yangtze
River that feeds you every day. You will always remember me. – The Talking Tree
Xiao Yu felt really touched by the tree’s words and he thought, with such a big stilt house,
he could invite the other fishermen to have dinner with him every night. He would not feel
lonely anymore.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Revenge of the Yangtze Dragon
Michael Chiu Yan Kit, 11, St. Paul’s Co-educational College Primary School
A
long time ago, back when my grandfather was still a young boy, a terrible flood swept
away more than three million people in eastern China. The river that flooded was the
longest river in China – the Yangtze. Scientists are still studying that flood, even now,
and have finally decided the cause was heavy rainfall.
But, there were still some survivors, who were interviewed by scientists about the flood.
My grandfather, who is called Chen, was the first to be interviewed.
He told the scientists the scientific version, but he told me the REAL story about what
happened. Now, I’m going to tell the story. So, here it goes...
***
It was December 1939. My grandfather, who was 18, and his family lived in Yangtze
village, a place which lay unnoticed by other Chinese civilisations, even now. It was like other
Chinese villages, but with one difference, this village, which was hidden by the thick bamboo
forests, believed in an unlikely creature: the dragon.
Now, I’m not saying that other Chinese don’t believe in dragons, it’s just that the villagers’
beliefs were much stronger. My grandpa said that he and his villagers dump half of the harvest
into the Yangtze every 12 years just to please the Dragon of the Yangtze.
But there was one exception.
Cheung, who was 30, the richest man and merchant of the Yangtze village, didn’t believe
in dragons. “Made-up nonsense, dragons,” he used to say. But I digress.
One summer’s day, Cheung was on his rowboat with my Grandpa, who was his best friend,
when they saw, lying on the riverbank, two meters long, a snake-like creature with fish scales, a
big head and mouth with dagger-like teeth, and two horns. Its razor-sharp claws gleamed in the
sunlight, and it slowly breathed in and out...
“It’s...it’s...it’s the Yangtze Dragon!” my Grandpa exclaimed. “Oh, what a beauty!
But Cheung shook his head. “I don’t believe in dragons, Chen, it must be some new species
of lizard or something. In fact, this would give me a lot of money, if I could just find a way to
preserve it...”
At this point, my Grandpa got angry. “You mean kill it? You’ll bring disasters to the
village if you do that! Besides, I’m not going to help you load that dragon onto the boat...”
“I do not believe in this dragon nonsense! And get off the boat if you won’t help me,”
said Cheung.
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My grandpa jumped off the boat and ran into the forest, and as he looked back, he could
see Cheung trying to load the sleeping dragon onto the boat without waking it.
Cheung succeeded all right. He stuffed it with poison and preservatives then put it into a
glass case. Before that, he had taken the eyes out and put them in a jar. “They might give me
good luck, even if I don’t believe in this stuff,” he said to himself as he climbed into the bed.
***
But the story doesn’t end here, you know.
It was midnight. Cheung’s eyes opened. There was a faint yellow glow in the room but
Cheung was too sleepy to notice. He was just about to go get some water when he got the shock
of his life.
The dragon’s eyeballs, which used to be in a glass case next to his bed, were now on the lid
of the glass jar!
As Cheung watched, each eye slowly swivelled in his direction, so that they were now
staring at Cheung, who was white with horror.
A white mist was starting to surround the two eyes now, slowly but surely, until Cheung
was staring at a two-meter long, snakelike creature with fish scales, a big head and mouth with
dagger-like teeth, and two horns. Suddenly the dragon roared a terrifying roar, which knocked
Cheung from the bed onto the floor. “Oh ghost! Please don’t kill me! What have I done
wrong?” Cheung pleaded shakily, covering his face with his hands.
“What have you done wrong?” cried the dragon ghost angrily. “You killed the Yangtze
Dragon, son of the East Dragon king! I should have killed you earlier, you non-believer!”
“Oh please forgive me!” cried Cheung. “I’ll do whatever you say!”
“Ha ha ha!” the ghost of the Yangtze Dragon threw back his head and laughed evilly.
“You think it’s that easy? I know that deep in your heart, you still refuse to believe in dragons.
Unless you prove that you will respect me for the rest of my life, I shall make you suffer... ha ha
ha!” and then, the dragon ghost faded away, leaving the two eyeballs back in the jar.
Cheung didn’t slept a wink that night. Just a day later, he received a message that three of his
merchant ships were destroyed by a mega-hurricane, which was moving towards the Yangtze.
And then the storm came, and Cheung began to feel the dragon’s power.
The mega-hurricane brought in heavy rain. It rained and rained and rained, until the banks
of the Yangtze couldn’t hold it anymore. The water rushed in, sweeping away houses of the
lower Yangtze village.
For a year the flooding continued. The villagers in the upper parts of the village were
running low on food, and every day, the storm and the flooding worsened, till Cheung’s house
was barely left standing in the storm.
Horrified, Cheung looked at the preserved dragon, and suddenly knew what to do.
He took the preserved dragon and the eyeballs outside with him just in time to see a
giant wave ready to swallow the house. Instantly, Cheung threw the preserved dragon and the
eyeballs into the flood and prayed for forgiveness to the dragon.
There was a flash of lightning, and the wave disappeared. The water subsided, uncovering the
village. As Cheung watched, the tail of the dragon flicked out of the Yangtze, then disappeared.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Remarkable Find
in the Yangtze River
Mihan Rathninde, 9, Hong Lok Yuen International School
M
ark Blackmore and Max Richards had been good friends since primary school. They
were laughed at when they paid attention to the rocks, minerals and dinosaur names,
while other kids at their age played soccer, basketball and with toys. But Mark and
Max did not mind. Wherever there was an opportunity for them to learn about dinosaurs, their
attention and interest quickly drew them there. They knew each other so well, that they could
do things together as a team like the famous palaeontologists of history.
When Mark and Max were studying palaeontology in college in Wyoming, they both were
really interested in the finds in Asia. Parasuchus is a crocodile like creature whose fossils are
found in India, but some scientists believe Parasuchus could have lived in China too. It was
said to be about 2.5 meters long and was about 210 million years old.
When they learned about these prehistoric crocodiles in Asia, they really wanted to find
out more. So they went to India. They knew that this was a big risk, but they both knew there
would be amazing finds on the way.
The landscape today in India shows how prehistoric animals survived there. Pranhita and
Godavari rivers flow to the south of the Bay of Bengal. It is prone to flooding during monsoon
season. Flooding can cause many good results for palaeontologists. Flooding can reveal new
species and also the history of old species.
The two friends became more interested in Parasuchus the more they found out. It looked
like a crocodile, walked like a crocodile, had jaws like a crocodile and lived like a crocodile,
but it wasn’t a crocodile. Their bones, trace fossils and tracks interested the curious, young
palaeontologists. They passed the Lufeng basin in Yunan province, China. Life was not easy,
but Mark and Max were very determined.
Eighteen months passed since the start of their expedition. They were tired but knew
what they were doing. They decided to take the most difficult route along the Yangtze River
passing the beautiful Three Gorges Dam. The Yangtze River is the longest river in Asia
and it is more than 6,300km long. They had read about the Yangtze River and the problems
related to it during the past 20 years, but when they saw the situation it was really sad for
them to see how people suffered, having to leave their villages, and how animals became
extinct without their natural habitat. Cranes and Yangtze River dolphins were all gone.
Mark and Max thought there could still be hidden wonders in the river. “The climate’s
changed, the river bed, density of water everything changed. With all these, can there be a
new species in the lonely corners of the Yangtze?” They both wanted to find an answer and
decided to travel east.
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Days, weeks and months passed. Their binoculars worked day and night. The little
laboratory in the boat helped them to test the specimens of water, mud and debris. They found
nothing unusual until one gloomy morning Max discovered something in the fishing net.
They both were amazed. It looked like a crocodile egg! Of course, there are crocodiles in the
Yangtze River, but the shape, size and the colour was different. Instead of a regular oval shaped
egg this one was circular, the egg was about the size of a tennis ball and instead of a regular
white crocodile egg this one was brownish black. Max and Mark were wondering what animal
this egg could possibly belong to. They heard crashing sounds coming from the bushes, so they
quickly backed up to the boat. At night, they got special infrared gear to see. They went to
the same place where they saw the nest, and they saw a crocodile-like creature but it was a bit
smaller than an average crocodile and its jaws were more elongated.
By this time they knew there was something really fascinating coming their way with
these new findings. Mark and Max made their way to this crocodile cove every day and they
found something more every night. One dark night when only fireflies were sparkling instead
of stars, they saw one big family of these amazing creatures. Some were lying down while
the babies were frolicking around. With many days of effort, they tranquilized a sick animal
with a big gash in its limb. They treated the creature first and got its scans and x-rays, before
releasing it.
The young palaeontologists were busy in their micro lab on the boat. They were
communicating frequently with the central lab in Wyoming. They compared the skeleton,
scans and pictures with existing crocodiles, alligators and caimans, but none of them matched.
Then Max asked Mark, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Mark said with a smile, “OK,
let’s match that to Parasuchus just for the fun of it.” Then they decided to do it and surprisingly
it was a perfect match!
They couldn’t talk. They knew that this beautiful Yangtze River was hiding many secrets.
Well, they had revealed one. That was the most amazing one for the palaeontologists. Their
hard work had finally paid off. No one would ever think that they were crazy.
“Prehistoric Croc Rewrites History” The headlines appeared in every newspaper and TV
channel. Mark and Max were given a grant from China’s Yangtze River Foundation for further
experiments and new findings.
Their families and friends together with everyone who wished them success were happy
and proud of them. The Chinese government agreed to preserve and protect wildlife around the
wetlands near the Yangtze River.
Mark and Max really think that a few untouched corners and shores still might have some
exotic wildlife left. So their discoveries along this 6,300km-long river will not come to an end
just yet.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Mystery of the Yangtze
Robyn Lee, 11, The French International School of Hong Kong
T
here once was a girl named Ming who had the most beautiful voice in her village.
Everyone who heard Ming sing was captivated by the sound. Every year the Emperor
of China held auditions to discover all the new talents in his empire. In order to
qualify for the auditions you had to be 16 years of age. Anyone who was acknowledged by
the emperor to be talented was showered with gifts and wealth, and brought fame and honour
to their village. Ming grew up knowing that it was her destiny to journey to the palace. On
Ming’s 16th birthday, she went to show off her talent to the emperor and set off on her journey
to fame and fortune.
On her way to the palace, she came upon a colossal glistening river with dolphins and fish
galore! She immediately knew this was the Yangtze River. The emperor’s palace lay on the
opposite side of the river. It was evening and the sun was setting but Ming thought she would
try to get across the river.
To cross the river she had to pay a toll to the Guardian of the River, a red Chinese dragon
who guarded the only bridge across the great expanse of water. The Guardian of the River
would ask three questions and she had to answer all of them correctly before she could
continue on her journey to the emperor to show him her musical talent. She had been warned
that if she failed to answer the questions correctly she would find herself jumping into the
swirling waters and spend her life in the sea with the rare dolphins of the Yangtze River. The
guardian had seen many youngsters try to cross the river before but none of them could answer
the three questions correctly.
The first question the guardian asked was, “What colour is my river?” Ming’s immediate
thought was “blue” but she hesitated because she suddenly realised that in the different lights
of day the river would change colour. So Ming decided to watch the river for a day to see which
colour would appear the most. Ming asked the dragon for more time to answer the question
and the dragon said that he would give her 24 hours knowing that she was young and being
confident that she would get the answer wrong.
That night Ming did not dare to sleep. She noted that the river was black in the dark of
night. As the dawn broke, the sun cast a glow over the water turning the water to a bright
marigold. As the sun rose in the sky, the water turned to cyan deepening into green in the late
afternoon. As the sun started to set on the water the river turned a molten red before becoming
grey in the cool light of dusk.
Her time was up and the dragon appeared before her demanding an answer. She told
him your river is not one colour but a multitude of colours depending on the light of day. The
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dragon was bewildered at how the girl had got the question correct, but he was sure she would
find the next one more challenging and back down.
The dragon asked her the next question, which was the following riddle:
“On this path of melted ice
Many gaze with great delight
Of their dreams and future life
On this earth so very bright
What am I?”
Again, Ming asked for time to answer the question and again the dragon agreed but this
time only gave her 12 hours. Ming went down to sit beside the river to think. She was so
tired from not having slept the night before that she immediately went to sleep. As Ming was
sleeping she dreamt of her mother whose ancestors came from high up in the mountains in
eastern Tibet. In her dream her mother reminded her of the stories that she had told her when
she was a little girl, of the great river that started in her province and ran through China.
Ming woke up knowing the answer to the riddle was the Yangtze River itself. Later that day
the dragon appeared in a puff of smoke, and was astounded when Ming again answered the
question correctly.
For his third and final question, the dragon asked Ming, “Which mammal lives in a school
but learns nothing?” Again Ming asked for more time but the dragon was getting angry and
made the time shorter, giving Ming only six hours to provide an answer.
Ming sat on the riverbank to think and heard frantic splashing nearby. Looking down, she
saw a baby dolphin caught in the river’s reeds. She waded as far as she dared, in jeopardy of
her own life, to save the dolphin. Finally, Ming untangled the reeds and the dolphin was free
but just before he left he told Ming the answer to the question, since he was stuck in the reeds
he had heard her whole conversation with the dragon. The dolphin said to Ming, “The answer
to your question is ‘a dolphin’.”
Ming ran to the bridge and shouted for the dragon to come. The dragon appeared not
looking very happy, as Ming had disturbed his sleep. “What is it?” the dragon asked. Ming
replied, “The answer to your question is a dolphin”. The dragon was enraged at how Ming had
got all three questions correct! However, he had to honour his word and let her pass.
Ming carried on her journey to the palace, impressed the emperor with her musical
talents and had a life filled with fame and fortune, but she never forgot her experience at the
Yangtze River.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Riddles of the Yangtze River
Sriya Bandaru, 10, Glenealy School
M
ei Lin was late for school. “Ma, help me find my coat!” she shouted from her room
but her mum couldn’t come. Soon she found her coat and came down for breakfast.
Just as she opened the door to go, a piece of paper flew in and she read it. It said:
You have five days to answer these riddles or I will take away your house:
1. It whispers, it roars, it blows. It is untamable. What is it?
2. I am a very lazy fellow. All of our kind are. We never get out of bed. What am I?
3. I open my mouth and close my mouth, people go in and come out. What am I?
4. I wake up and come out gloriously. I shine bright, where everyone can see and I leave at
night. What am I?
5. I crawl amongst the leaves, I disguise and deceive. What am I?
Once you are done, put all the answers in a bottle and send it down the Yangtze River.
Sincerely, Xi Wang
Horror crept upon her face as she read it. Xi Wang was their house owner and they had
forgotten to pay the rent for the past few months. “Why did he ask us to send the answers down
the Yangtze River?” questioned Mei Lin. “His house is built right next to the Yangtze River,”
replied her mum. “So that explains it,” she thought. Then she sighed. “Me, Liang and Kylie will
have to answer them,” she declared. Liang and Kylie were her best friends. They all went to the
same school in Nanjing. Just then she remembered about school. She exclaimed, “Hey! I almost
forgot about school!” Then she hurriedly left for school.
At school, she met Liang and Kylie. She told them about the note. Soon after school, they
started searching. They had no clue where to begin. “Why don’t we go to the top of the hill
and think about it?” suggested Mei Lin. “Great idea, Mei Lin,” replied Liang. So they went
to the top of the hill and sat there. “Mmm... first, let’s think about the fifth one. It sounds
simple,” muttered Kylie. “I crawl amongst the leaves, I disguise and I deceive. What am I?”
read Mei Lin.
Suddenly, Liang saw something. He exclaimed “Hey! What was that? It looked like a lizard!”
“Where? I can’t see anything.” asked Kylie. Mei Lin shouted, “Maybe it’s a chameleon!”
“But why are you shouting?” inquired Liang. “Because it matches the riddle perfectly! Just
take a look. I crawl amongst the leaves means it lives on trees, I disguise and deceive means it
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camouflages itself with its surroundings and that’s exactly what chameleons do!” Then Kylie told
her to write it down. They thought that one answer that day was enough so they went back home.
The next day, their teacher announced, “Children, tomorrow we will travel to the
Yangtze River to study. All you need is a water bottle, a rain jacket and lunch.” The same
day, after they were dismissed, Mei Lin decided to go to the temple. She asked Liang and
Kylie. Kylie could come but Liang had some other work. As soon as they reached there a
priest greeted them.
They went to a room. The door of the room was a dragon’s mouth. They went in and
saw a statue of a dragon. Just before leaving, Kylie said, “Hey, wait a minute, I think that just
answered the third riddle. A door opens and closes like the dragon’s mouth door. It swallows
people when we enter and when we exit it lets us out.” Mei Lin shouted excitedly, “Yes, that
could be the answer!” She wrote it down. Just then the priest scolded, “Quiet down, will you?”
Then he shooed them away.
The next day she woke up early because of the field trip. She saw the sun rise. She thought
“Why, it’s so beautiful! It’s almost as if... Yes! It could be the answer of the fourth riddle, I’ll
just write it down...” After that she left for the field trip.
Mei Lin and her friends were getting bored with the lecture. Just then something caught
Liang’s attention. The teacher was still talking about the river. She was saying, “The bottom of
the river is called a river bed. It’s as if it sleeps all the time.” And then she chuckled at her own
joke. Liang thought hard to remember the riddle. It was something about a bed. He shook Mei
Lin and asked her to give him the note. She did and within seconds Liang had the answer to the
second riddle.
The next day school was cancelled as a gale hit Nanjing. Mei Lin was bored. The wind
outside went rough and suddenly went calm. Her thoughts were interrupted by a phone call
from Kylie. She had the answer to the first riddle! It was wind. It blows strongly and slowly and
it destroys stuff too. She wrote that down quickly and put the note in the bottle. After the gale,
she and her friends went to the Yangtze River to let the bottle go.
After two hours or so, Ju Long, the trickster, came in laughing his head off. Liang asked
why Ju Long was laughing. After laughing, he said, “You were so dumb to believe my trick!
Ha ha ha! That note wasn’t by Xi Wang. It was only me trying out a trick! I wanted to see how
dumb you were.” Then Mei Lin asked the question that was troubling her all along, “But how
did you get Xi Wang’s signature?” He replied” It wasn’t genuine. It was just me trying to copy
it!” The kids saw the funny side of it and started laughing too. They knew they would be made
into a laughing stock at school but they didn’t mind. “It was actually fun!” said Mei Lin and
they all went home laughing.
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The Yangtze Storm
Timothy Yung Ngo Tin, 11, Yaumati Catholic Primary School
F
lowing from Qinghai in the Tibetan Plateau to the East China Sea at Shanghai through
11 Chinese provinces is the Yangtze River. One of the most beautiful rivers in the world,
it was once like a gigantic sword slicing apart the northern and southern China. Why?
And why is it called Yangtze? The ancient story begins on a day when….
A violent thunderstorm was stamping with craze along the Yangtze River. The gale
whooshed and howled. Piney trees bent and swung, branches tore off into the air.
On the northern riverbank stood Enchanter Wu, his lengthy grey hair flying and shiny robe
flapping in the wind. He opened his palms, pointing to the sky, and thunder rumbled to pain
the eardrums. He clutched his fists, lowering his arms, and thousands of lightning stretched
down from the sombre sky as if countless lanky fingers were coming down to hook people to
the unknown heavens. On the rough waters, a dozen warships went bumping with broken masts
and torn sails. The storm was forcing them to the jagged rocky bank. Finally, the entire fleet
was sunken and vanished from sight.
From his palace on a mountain top a handsome young man in a bright gown had been
watching the enchanter. His inky short hair and his dark round eyes looked prominent on his
face. He is Tze, the king of northern China. By this time, a dove flew in and there was a faint
sound of music. With a puff of smoke, the dove turned back into the enchanter.
Tze laughed, “Wu, it is you? Did you scatter the Yang army over the extended bank as I
ordered?”
“Certainly, my good king,” said Wu in a cheerful voice like the dancing melody from a piano.
“And where is the evil Yang?” Tze demanded.
“He is disheartened over his daughter, believing her to be drowned. But she is not,”
continued Wu. “I have already used my spell to bring her here. She is on her way.”
Tze sighed, and his face wore a gloomy look.
“Twenty years ago, when I was still a child, Yang killed my father and took his place as
the southern king. My mother escaped with me on a junk cast adrift in this long river to the
sea. We were left to our destiny. Luckily, you took us ashore and helped me become the king of
northern China. I am very grateful to you. This time, I need your help to take revenge.”
***
On the clearing at the exit of the dense jungle was a young lady with silky long hair. Her
helmet was gone and fine wool uniform in tatters. She was Meili, daughter of Yang. Bewitched
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by Wu’s magic, she shuffled a long way to the clearing next to Tze’s palace. Immediately, Wu
transformed her into a heavily coloured butterfly and she flew to Tze’s chamber.
Wu broke the spell and turned her back into her human form. At the first sight of one
another, the two young people fell in love. Never ever had Tze met such a charming woman,
and the man was the most handsome Meili has ever seen. As if both had been enchanted, they
held each other’s hand with a blissful smile.
Then, Tze asked Meili about her stories. But he was puzzled when Meili said that the old
southern king was cruel to his people and only treasured money and enjoyment. Her father
General Yang killed the king for justice’s sake. Unable to find the king’s heir, he had to take the
throne. This time, the Yang army came to hunt down Enchanter Wu who the southern people
wrongly believed to be evil. Tze only replied that he was the king’s son.
***
In the jungle, Yang was desperate with thirst and hunger. He did not want to continue
because he believed that Meili was drowned. He wanted to wait to join his daughter in the
heavens. Then, a faint sound of music wafted to his ears. Without a word, he sprang to his feet,
and looked everywhere. The sound stopped and Wu appeared from a thick mist. Yang swung
his cutlass towards Wu’s face but fell into a spell when his cutlass touched the enchanter, who
was unhurt.
Some hours later, Yang’s trance was broken and he found himself in the palace’s courtyard.
Lining the courtyard was tall reddish granite walls. At this moment, he saw Wu standing at the
palace’s gate with three guards. Enraged, Yang pulled his cutlass out again and ran towards Wu
yelling.
“Father, stop!” Meili called out nervously, appearing from a tower.
Yang was greatly surprised to see her alive. Meili hurried to give him a big hug. The old
man’s eyes were filled with joyful tears.
“Yang!” a voice echoed in the courtyard. Yang saw a figure dressed like a king coming up
from afar.
“Who are you? Why did you take us here?” the trembling old man demanded at the top of
his voice.
Meili held her father by his sleeve, saying, “Calm down, father. He is Tze, the son of the
bad king.”
Yang was as elated as sorrowful to find Tze here. He apologised to Tze for killing his
father, but explained that the bad king made his people live in sadness. Tze showed his
understanding and had actually forgiven Yang when Meili unfolded everything because she
was under Wu’s spell to tell the truth.
At last, Tze married Meili and became the emperor of China. Yang was honoured as the
Grand General. To celebrate peace, Emperor Tze named the river Yangtze, making the name
Yang come first to praise his good work to the people.
As for Enchanter Wu, he was made the guardian of the Yangtze River. Today, if you are
lucky, you may still meet him along the river which is now like a healed wound marking the
power of forgiveness on the map of China.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
New Tales of the Yangtze River
William Goo Sze Yin, 9, Victoria Shanghai Academy
D
eep in a cave at the top of a mountain by a river with no name, there lived four
dragons. They were the red dragon, Nile, the blue dragon, Danube, the green dragon,
Amazon, and the yellow dragon, Yangtze. Every day they played together. One day, the
emperor flew down from the Palace of Heaven, and saw the dragons blowing out fire from their
mouths, burning trees for fun. The emperor was disappointed with the dragons’ behaviour, so
he pointed his finger at the dragons like a magician with his wand, and magically they were
thrown back into a cave and then lots of large heavy rocks closed up the cave, locking them up.
Nile cried, “Oh no! We shouldn’t have burnt the trees for fun. Now we are stuck here!”
Danube said to Nile, “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine, as soon as I find a way out of here!” With
that Danube charged at the rocks, but nothing happened. “Oh great, now we’re trapped. If
Danube can’t get us out of here, then I guess we’re all stuck here forever!” cried Amazon. Then
Yangtze, the youngest but bravest dragon, suggested, “How about we all try to move these
rocks together?”
Everyone agreed, and they all slammed into the rocks together. The rocks shook, but
only some rocks fell, which allowed some light to shine into the dark lonely cave. Amazon
complained, “We did manage to get rid of some rocks, but none of us can get out of this not-sobig hole, and we’re all tired!” As they were feeling desperate, Yangtze suddenly said, “I can get
out, I’m small!” Danube exclaimed, “You’re right! And, you’re very brave!” So they agreed to
let Yangtze go out and try to get help.
Yangtze twisted, turned and squeezed through the hole, but when he came out, he was
shocked to see that China was flooded. People were leaving their beloved land, and crops
planted were ruined. Yangtze decided to try to stop the flood first before helping his brothers
out. He flew around, wondering what he should do. “Oh no, China is flooded. What shall I do?
What shall I do? Hmm…” he thought and flew around for a few minutes, then had an idea. He
thought, “First, I’m going to move the rocks and free my brothers. Then, I will use those rocks
to stop the water by building a dam.” And so he flew around China looking for a way to move
the rocks.
When he reached a mountain and saw a man shivering and rubbing two pieces of wood,
trying to make a fire. Without thinking, Yangtze blew fire out of his mouth and made a fire for
the man to keep him warm. The man said to Yangtze, “Thank you, kind dragon. Why are you
here?” Yangtze replied, “Because my brothers are locked in a cave and China is flooded. I need
them to help build a dam.” The man said to Yangtze, “Let me ride on your back, fly to the cave
and together we’ll move the rocks.”
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Soon Nile, Danube and Amazon were free. They too were horrified to see China flooded.
Yangtze explained to them his idea, and they agreed. They moved the rocks from the cave to
the water, one by one, and soon they built a dam. But what about the humans? What happened
to them? Had they already died in the flood, and was it too late? Yangtze searched everywhere,
and soon he found out where the humans were. The humans were safe behind the dam,
rebuilding their houses and planting their crops.
Many days, weeks and months went by, the humans were still safe. But then one day, the
largest wave that Yangtze had ever seen was heading straight for the dam, and no one else
had realised it. Yangtze quickly went to find his brothers, and told them that a huge wave was
coming and not even the dam could stop it. Amazon said to Yangtze, “You must be going
mad, Yangtze. This dam is safe and strong, and nothing is able to destroy it!” Danube and Nile
agreed with Amazon, but Yangtze said, “Why don’t you look at the wave yourself?”
So Danube, Amazon and Nile looked out, and saw a large wave coming. They were
horrified by the wave. They had never seen anything quite like that. The wave was dark green
and blue, wind and a thundering storm came with it. They panicked and told the humans, who
started panicking too, and soon everyone was panicking except Yangtze. He had a sudden idea,
but it was very dangerous, and could kill him. He would tell everyone, including his brothers,
to flee and go to somewhere safe, but he would hold the dam to try to stop the wave crashing it.
When he told his brothers this idea, they all said, “Yangtze, you are very brave, but you can’t
do this. This is too dangerous for you. We should do it, but not you.” But Yangtze insisted. He
kept nagging them until they finally agreed.
Yangtze held on to the dam while Danube, Amazon and Nile told all the humans to flee
to somewhere safer. Then, when the humans had escaped to safety, the water arrived, the dam
shook and Yangtze held on to the dam very firmly, even though he could not hold it any longer.
He used all his energy and succeeded in defending the dam, but died of exhaustion. When the
water had gone, the humans returned, only to find Yangtze’s dead body by the river. They all
felt very sorry for him, even the emperor, so they named the river after Yangtze, which is now
well known as the Yangtze River. And what about the other dragons? Well, they left. Danube
went to Europe, Amazon went to South America and Nile to Africa.
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The Yangtze Angels
Zoe Grace Lowe, 11, Marymount Primary School
T
he Yangtze River has been a grave, a life saver and a source of inspiration. Great minds
spent years on its banks. They became famous later, and had magnificent lives. Their
legacies survived when they met their ends. But there’s one tale of the Yangtze River
that has never been told, its heroes never recognised. It hasn’t been written or heard. Now, I’ll
unveil this monumental story. Ladies and gentlemen, the Tale of the Yangtze Angels.
The Yangtze Angels is an organisation. Parts of our tale are missing, erased from history.
But I know that it was founded over two millennia ago, by a group of scholars threatened by
the first emperor to be buried alive. This was around the time that the emperor, obsessed with
national stability, was burning books and inflicting punishments upon the learned. The poet Qu
Yuan killed himself when the emperor refused to believe his warning of an attack. He drowned
himself in a river. This may be one of the reasons that the Yangtze Angels took the river as
their symbol. His friends hated the emperor for this. When he banned books, he only backed
up their motives to escape his harsh rule. So, they became the first angels.
These angels travelled China, saving books, disrupting the emperor’s plans. They followed
their river over all of China. It was their friend and guide. We’ve never left the water. The
banks are our home and headquarters, hence our name. We prevented the emperor from
destroying literature completely, and saved many works.
The emperor despised them. He was merciless, sending assassins and mercenaries after
them, ordering rogue warriors to kill angels on sight. But they always slipped just out of his
grasp, and he never caught them all.
He had all evidence of the angels’ existence destroyed. He didn’t want anybody to find
out about his lack of control over a bunch of mere scholars. So nobody knew except for the
descendants of the angels and the emperor himself. But then the emperor swore a few of his
most highly ranked officials to secrecy, and told them about the entire dispute. He made it
his dying wish that the angels be hunted and destroyed. He even left them a reminder: the
Terracotta Warriors. Contrary to many beliefs, they aren’t protectors of the emperor in the
afterlife; they were modelled after the faces of the Yangtze Angels, and he told his followers
that he had etched the faces of the criminals in stone so that they would know what they looked
like. So even after his death, the angels weren’t safe.
The descendants of the angels and the royal court engaged in a secret battle that spanned
centuries. Our foes’ thirst for blood can only be satisfied by revenge on the Yangtze Angels.
They no longer strived only for the fall of literacy, but also the fall of their emperor’s enemies,
and so the Yangtze Angels fought back.
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Not all scholars were faithful, though. Once, an angel became an official in the court of
the Qianlong Emperor, acting as a double agent to convince the emperor to give up his idea of
suppressing books. But he became too fascinated with imperial life. Instead, he encouraged the
slowly maddening emperor’s notions, and helped with the literary inquisition known as ‘Siku
Quanshu’. His name was Ji Xiaolan.
Other than that case, the angels were loyal. True to our founders’ wishes, we’ve always
stayed close to the Yangtze River. The water is our base and lifeline. So the descendants of the
court decided to make it the site of our downfall. One time, in the Eastern Han Dynasty, two
officials travelled along the shoreline of the Yangtze and founded Fengdu, the ghost city. In
this city was Nothing-to-be-Done Bridge. Legend says that when the virtuous walk across the
middle arch, nothing happens. When the corrupt do it, the bridge collapses.
The legend isn’t true. But this is: the two officials were foes of the Yangtze Angels, and
they built the bridge in town because they knew that the angels often passed through the area.
They rigged the middle arch so that it would fall whenever something touched it. Before they
did this, they’d have a couple of bystanders walk across the bridge safely. When the angels
came, they would make the bridge fall. This would give them an official excuse to arrest them.
But the bridge never fell. The officials couldn’t figure out how. The public decided it was a
hoax and the officials gave up. They never bothered us in our own territory again.
Our secret empire was at its prime in the period between 1861 and 1915, during which the
Empress Dowager Cixi, a top agent, unofficially ruled.
Then the Chinese empire fell. That is, it was replaced by a government. With no imperial
court, the men of the emperor no longer had the means to chase the angels. And with the
Westerners there, our heroes weren’t what they used to be. Both sides found their power
dwindling. Both sides kept a low profile. Both sides couldn’t afford to lose any more resources.
Things quieted down over the next century.
So why am I telling you this? What drastic event has forced me to publicly announce a
secret hidden for years? The last angel over 17 years old has just passed away. The only ones
left other than myself are six other children. We’re capable, but we’re young, and alone. I’m
telling you this because we need your help. The emperor’s followers will find out sooner or
later, and they’ll come after us. Once we’re out of the picture, they’ll start the revolution of
their forebears. I wish it were fiction, just an entry in a competition, like you think. It isn’t. But
those of you with heroic blood will answer the call. I don’t think I need to tell you where I am.
If you’re clever enough to be reading this, you’ll find out.
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Fiction, Group 3
The Lost King
Aashman Vyas, 11, Discovery College
Memory is merely a manifestation of one’s thoughts.
***
The weary thuds of the horses’ hooves alongside the shore flowed in a string unified
harmoniously with the tempestuous trickle of the river outside. He was different. He gazed
outside his luxurious chariot looking down at the grooves and hills that delicately composed
the world around him, contemplating the situation currently at hand. He had been in these sorts
of circumstances before, only to get banished and even rejected by his own family. Why would
my dear king send his best men to escort me to his palace? Surely it must be important if the
King needs me so much as to capture me in such harsh mannerisms to simply take me to his
castle. I could do that myself.
The chariot was travelling on the edge of the hills that loomed of the Yangtze River. The
terrain was exceedingly bumpy and this was not a comforting fact to the coachmen knowing
that they had to get to Chengdu by following the Yangtze River before nightfall and it was
raining marvelously.
The white noise created from the flowing of the river, made a surge of sleepiness come
over anyone listening to it.
Without disruption, his head swung back and he fell asleep. In his mind, he was looking
out at an ocean with leaves of sunlight shimmering in the vast blanket of water that lay before
him. Before he could do anything, he whipped to the next scene. This one was a bit different
and peculiar. A warzone. Many soldiers fighting, losing lives every second. War cries could
be heard from a mile away. Then the next scene. It was a man in red robes, being crowned. It
seemed as if this was so familiar that he could predict what would happen next.
Unnoticeably a sort of natural melody started to intrude on him, slowly and painfully
melting away his senses. Flashes of white echoed through his vision. He started to hear a faint
utterance that gave away to a ghoulish voice. Wake up. You know enough. For the first time
in his life, he was scared. “Wh-who are you?” he tried to whimper. You must wake up. With a
dark change in tone this time. You do not know.
His mind woke up back in the chariot, rocking gently to the vibration from the soft
thudding of hooves. “Where am I being taken?” As he peered across the Yangtze River from
his chariot, he saw the palace. And the answer became apparent. I am different and I am the
king. And I need to wake up. He then surrendered to the world and lay back, thinking.
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After some time, he woke to a hard knock. A head protruded through the curtains that
were keeping the rain out. “Are you alright your majesty?”
“Yes” he replied. I’m more than all right.
“If you need anything, just ask one of the coachmen.” The young guard said. The guard
took his head out of the curtains and turned to the guard sitting beside him. They were both on
an elevated stand at the back of the chariot looking over the compartment the “guest” was in.
“Does he remember anything yet?”
“No, while I was inside it seemed as if he felt quite awkward. Warrior Dao must have hit
him pretty hard.” Said the younger guard. He pulled out a half eaten apple, munched on it
briefly, and shoved it back into his pocket. “Nice weather, isn’t it?” the older guard shouted over
the heavy rain. “It’s always like this around the Yangtze River.”
The loud voices of the guards outside were a bit unsettling when mixed with the ambient
sound of the rain. The curtains protecting the passenger were soaked and water was dripping
into the padded abode of the chariot. Over the muffled voices he could make out a person
saying: “Definitely. By the way, I do think he should be lynched. A new emperor is due.” This
puzzled him. What are they talking about? Are they talking about me? As soon as that thought
occurred to him, white flashes echoed through his head. Again. Over his pain, he could make
out an angry voice “Don’t say that! Pieces of information might activate his residual memory!”
Everything came towards him. Scenes of his life drifted past him. An imperial palace.
A Battlefield. Through all this chaos, one scene stood out. He himself was fighting another
warrior. Both of them traded several blows but the warrior landed one his right shoulder. Then
the warrior fiercely went ahead to slice his head, missing, but landing a heavy blow. “Remember
my name.” What was his name? It suddenly came to him. Dao. Warrior Dao. Slowly, pieces of
information came to him. He remembered everything. He remembered several soldiers drugging
him, and taking him somewhere. He was the emperor. I am the emperor.
Coming out of his trance slowly, he started thinking about what was going on. I have been
drugged and put here. I was injured in battle by probably a powerful adversary. They must
be planning to kill me. The thought sent a cold chill down his body. He started panicking.
Looking around his chariot, he started looking around for anything to use to escape. Nothing.
The only option left became apparent. He took a deep breath and jumped out of the chariot.
As he looked back, he could see that everyone but the horses were fast asleep besides being
soaked. He landed in soft grass a bit too harshly. The chariot raced away and soon faded into
the distant mist. He got up and brushed his clothes. Stabilizing himself, he started walking in
a sound rhythm, heading towards his own castle. Walking on the great hills that surround the
Yangtze River.
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Fiction, Group 3
A Hidden Secret
of the Yangtze River
Au Yee Ki, 13, HKUGA Collage
L
ook down at Tiger Leaping Gorge, how amazing is the rumbling water, finding its
way through the rocks. There, far below and away, the water goes to a peaceful lake
reflecting every minute detail of the trees on the shore. It is absolutely amazing to look
at the quiet, pale green water while the river roars in white just below. Oh, there floats a little
black figure of a boat, swaying from side to side, gentle as a lullaby. The soft blue sky, the jade
green foliage, the stunning brownish-orange rocky mountain and the colourful water ... Yes,
you’re right! We’re at the Yangtze River.
Well, as we all know, the Yangtze River is the third longest river in the world, with a
hundred connected lakes and all other massive numbers making it legendary! But you may
not know how this miracle was formed. It all started at the top of the Tanggula Mountains,
where the God of the River, Sixiang, lived. He was generous, brave and kind to people. He was
very short compared to other gods but indeed he was the one who created the river, all 6,300
kilometres, which became the origin of the Chinese people.
Not long after the river was created, sea creatures of all kinds moved in, including some
species that only belonged to the Yangtze River; for example, the Yangtze dolphin, the Yangtze
sturgeon and the Chinese alligator. People started gathering around the river and formed
different tribes. As the population grew, the land was populated with plants and life. Sixiang
loved to watch and help his people with their daily lives.
Far down in Hell, the devils took notice of every single life form; they hated all of them.
They thought the river was the most horrible, disgusting and uncomfortable place on Earth,
because they were used to and only enjoyed their creepy, cold and dirty world in Hell. So, they
mounted a massive assault on all life. They designed a devastating plan for their next move.
They appeared around the river, and all of a sudden, the warm sunshine turned into the lonely
light of the moon, the dew drops turned into purple damp cold mist, the warm smiles on the
inhabitants’ faces turned to worry. The devils occupied the river, from the open end towards
the ocean up to Jin-Sha River. The jolly population living in their occupied area became slaves
of the devils.
Sixiang grew very angry with the devils, so he decided to fight back for his people. Sixiang
came out from his home. Firstly, he met the king of the devil’s two poisonous snakes, which
were each three metres long. They had two sharp fangs, spooky green eyes and were even taller
than Sixiang. They almost swallowed Sixiang with a swift bite. Although he was stunned for
a while, he took out his sword steadily and killed them one at a time. The two snakes were in
charge of the Yangtze upstream. After they died, their bodies lay on the same spot, extending
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
almost 4,500 kilometres, gradually this area turned into two rivers called the Mekong and
Salween. These two rivers running alongside the Jin-Sha became the first world heritage site of
the Yangtze River and was called the Three Parallel Rivers of Yunnan Protected Areas.
Sixiang was very satisfied with his first triumph. He carried on along the river until he felt
something strange. A huge mountain, about 5,000 metres high, was blocking the way of the
Yangtze River. He thought he had made sure that the river was on flat terrain when he created
it. After a while, he realised that it was the devils, and it must be the king of the devils because
only he had such powers. The king of the devils appeared with a long spiky fork sharpened for
killing Sixiang. The god battled the king of the devils for around a year; at last, Sixiang pushed
him down with all his might. At the same time, perhaps due to the force of the devil’s power,
the great mountain split with a crack 30 metres deep creating the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain
and the Haba Snow Mountain allowing water to run through. Because the crack was a bit small
for the gigantic amount of water, the flow of the water at Tiger Leaping Gorge is abnormally
strong and fast.
The death of the king was a huge relief to Sixiang, though he knew those millions of
nasty devils would never give up. So, he carried on his fight down the Yangtze River. One day,
he found the devils’ main camp, and there was no one guarding them. He thought of hiding
himself nearby and waited for them to come back. But after he looked around, he thought
of a better plan! He changed back into his initial form of god, and then he simply redrew the
straight river with a sharp turn on the mud with his little finger. Seconds later, the sharp bend
became part of the river. Late at night, the devils started to come back. Devils were evil but
they did not know how to swim and they were very small, just about the size of human beings.
Sixiang saw around ten to 15 boats of devils, all of them seemed to be lost and confused
because they had not seen this section of the river as it was supposed to be clear and straight.
Sixiang took this opportunity and exhaled a small puff of air and almost immediately, great
waves and wind started splashing and howling. Without defence and warnings, the little boats
broke apart and the devils all died. And this bend of a 180 degrees, turning from south towards
north, is the first loop from the very beginning of the Yangtze and now people call this ‘the
first turn of the Yangtze River’.
Sixiang had been fighting against the evil devils his entire life and he had almost
succeeded. Unfortunately, the creepy little devils had evolved into humans like you and me.
They have not stopped damaging the Yangtze River. Precious animals brought to the river
began to become extinct, leaving us forever. The devils all knew that animals were there to
maintain the balance of life on Earth.
And it was those devils that made the Chinese alligator, the finless porpoise and the
Chinese paddlefish critically endangered or even extinct. The Yangtze River is the only place
besides the United States of America that is home to some of these species. There are new
threats to the river such as the Three Gorges Dam. However, Sixiang had used up most of his
power and energy on fighting the devils.
We should all join in and play our own part to help Sixiang in saving the Yangtze River.
Indeed, we should extend our care for the environment to all other rivers and oceans for the
numerous lives that flourish in them.
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Free
Catherine Wang, 12, Chinese International School
T
hey say that death happens in an instant. Its unfelt wind brushes past coldly, snuffing out
the final dregs of warmth from fading light. It steals the senses, numbing the crisp tinkle
of bells or the gentle stroke of a hand, kneading all feelings into a monotonous, dumb
roar. It drowns the surroundings in dark, unknown silence, leaving the fleshy shell of man
quiet, blind and unknowing.
But for me, death did not come at once, terrifying yet ingratiating. It lingered, taunting me,
battering my mind between a world of pulsing white nightmares, perhaps of the past, and the
gritty, sharp visions of reality. I begin to doubt my eyes. Was the cage-like room truly lined
with grey or was this only the salty, tangible sorrow staining my vision? Were the strange
forms now by my side merely dreams or solidly warm bodies clutching my calloused hands,
gazing at me with steely eyes?
“Tell him a story.” A girl, who stands no taller than the squat metal machines that line the
walls, speaks. Her young face, a shade of yellow tan, is already creased with years of work,
framed by a mop of wild black hair. There is almost a liquid calm in her voice. “You remember
how much he liked telling them, listening to them. Come on, baba.”
“No.” A man this time speaks, his reply short and stoical, but his eyes are watering. The
man resembles the girl, but with a receding hairline and a mouth of crooked, canine teeth.
His shoulders droop and he shudders, his voice wavering. “He doesn’t r-remember, anyway –
right Doc?”
Another voice butts in, this time in a mellifluous, positively saccharine tone oozing with
authority. The doctor’s face is lined with a pedantic superiority as he shakes his head in my
direction. “Concussion is a tricky one. He wouldn’t be able to recall anything from around the
time of the incident. Honestly, it’s a miracle he’s alive. Damaged, but alive.” His volume drops
slightly. “He may not be for long.”
The girl turns around to face her father, her expression an indecipherable, strong mask.
“Then tell yeye about everything he’s gone through. He has to know before he goes.”
A lady beside her touches her arm lightly and draws out a tired, rattling sigh. They share
the same eyes: hollow black, lined with brims of tears. “Are you sure, sweetie?”
“Yes.” The girl by their side remains stubborn and decisive. “I’m sure. Tell him his story,
baba. Tell him now.”
Her father sighs and sits down on a rickety plastic chair, so chipped and pale it looks fit
to crack under his bulky mass. There is something about his presence that seems to trigger
something inside.
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“You are Li Qiao Long,” he begins, wringing his hands. “And you are in Sandouping,
Yiling. It is 1999, the year of the rabbit. This is your story.”
***
“You have always loved the river. It was the source of your livelihood, your voice.
There was something about the ceaseless rushing current, the hustling whisper of the water,
which made you happy and carefree. With your wife, you brought up your child by the river,
nourished by the fresh air and the tangy fish. Over time, with education, food, water and care,
your child grew up to become an engineer and had a child of his own with a lady he loved. He,
or I, did you proud.”
“But those times were not the easiest, nor were they the best. Gradually the serene boating
port that you relied on for business was blown up to massive proportions, replaced by huge
steam-churning liners and bustling markets. Industrialism, they called it. To add to that, your
wife, Ma Gui Hua, a lovely lady with an easy smile, was tormented by sudden, thumping
pains in her chest. It made broiling red fish, or cooking for that matter, near impossible, and
sometimes left her in shuddering fits. With great reluctance you took her to see the doctors.”
The silence that follows seems to solidify in the room, mixing in with the flecks of dust
outlined like slow-moving birds in the dim sunlight.
“When she died, there was nothing anyone could do. I was there with you. She simply
exhaled and passed on like the peaceful jasmine flower for which she was named. The doctors
tried to explain that cancer was something that developed over time, but you wouldn’t listen.
You let your sorrow consume you as the most important piece in your world faded away.
“The government decided that it was time to build a dam for the changjiang, to provide
hydroelectricity and protect the cities from floods. It was to be named the Three Gorges
Dam, for the three valleys of which the waves flowed through. You were furious. It felt that
the river was your freedom, your right, and it was being retained and harnessed by their
manipulative power. The design would mean that your home would be knocked down for room,
and thousands of souls relocated to the nearby, more urban areas. Despite your wisdom, your
endless petitions and arguments, they ignored you. The dam would be built, they said. It would
be the best for the people. The party always knows what’s best.
“When you found out there was a huge demand for workers, you were appalled. There was
no way that you would help construct the thing that would be constricting the very essence of
your existence. But they made you work on the dam, in the end, because there were so many
hands needed, tens of thousands of men. Oh-h-h–”
The man, my son, suddenly starts to cry, as if it was a strange action entirely new to him
and he was just discovering how. It is a while before he continues.
“Nobody knew exactly how you fell. Just one second you were on the scaffolding, and the
next you were deep in the water. Luckily, the people nearby were able to fish you out, though
you suffered serious head injuries. They were doubtful about their actions, because they were
certain that it was only a corpse that they had rescued. But they brought you here only to find
out a weak pulse still beat.
“We came and we comforted. There is nothing we can do about the dam, but you will
always love the river.”
***
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I snap out of my reverie, my ears still tingling with the sharp timbre and pace of his
voice and his tale. Is it true? Have I just heard my name, so alien and unrecognizable to my
muddled mind?
One word that I can still not place resonates in my head until I can stand it no longer. My
throat, like a key turning in a rusty lock, creakily opens.
“Free-dom,” I groan, startling my family, feeling the soft taste of the word against my lips.
Like honey, it beckons to be sung again. “I – freedom!”
The girl comes over and strokes my wrinkled face, each line running like a deep crack,
distorting my features into a vast, dry canyon. “Don’t fret, yeye,” she whispers. “Don’t be
scared. We will be here. You can be free.”
They say that death happens in an instant. Its unfelt wind brushes past coldly, snuffing
out the final dregs of warmth from fading light. It steals the senses, numbing the crisp tinkle
of bells or the gentle stroke of a hand, kneading all feelings into a monotonous, dumb roar. It
drowns the surroundings in dark, unknown silence, leaving the fleshy shell of man quiet, blind
and unknowing.
And as I close my eyes, for the first time I can remember, I tilt my head up and smile.
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Act Now!
Chan Ngai Lik, 14, Pentecostal Lam Hon Kwong School
E
verything happened due to a newspaper…
One sunny holiday, I stayed at home and wanted to enjoy a comfortable morning. While I was
reading my favourite book, How to Protect Our Environment, my wife, Isabella, suddenly called me.
“Oh my God! Kitson, come quickly! There’s big news!” I went to the bedroom quickly
and when I entered, she gave me a newspaper and said excitedly, “Look at this! A time travel
machine will be invented within 20 years!” Well, my wife was an inventor, so she was very
interested in inventions. But I am not!
“Oh dear! You called me so urgently just because of this?” I said in an impatient voice.
“What do you mean? Don’t you think this is a big surprise?” she said loudly.
“Certainly not!” I replied. While we were arguing about the time travel machine, our son,
Leo, was woken up due to our resounding voices and cried loudly.
“Oh my goodness, little Leo has woken up! He must be hungry. You sit here and read the
newspaper. Then you’ll know just how amazing the time travel machine is.” Isabella then left to
take care of Leo.
I read the newspaper and found news that was far more interesting than the time travel
machine. The title of the article was ‘Dragon Appears in the Yangtze River’.
Ah! I’ve forgotten to tell you what my job is. Actually, I am a doctor who engages in
environmental protection. I first went to the Yangtze River when I was 15 years old. At that
time, the Yangtze was very beautiful and clean because there was less pollution and fewer
people. But in recent years, many researchers have pointed out that the pollution problem of
the Yangtze River is becoming more and more serious. Waste materials and water produced by
factories are poured into the river. While people keep doing this, they are killing our ‘Mother
River’! I wanted to go to the Yangtze River again but I had too many jobs to complete. While I
was thinking about this, Isabella came back. She saw I was reading the article on the Yangtze
River and asked me, “Do you want to go there?”
“Yes, I do. But Leo has just been born. I need to take care of him,” I said sadly.
“Don’t worry! I will look after him. Just go!” Isabella said.
“Thank you, honey,” I said and then kissed her face softly.
“When will you set off? I need to pack for you,” Isabella said.
“Then pack for me now. I will buy a ticket for a flight tomorrow.” Isabella gave me a bitter
smile and then went to pack for me.
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The next day, I started my journey to the Yangtze River. At first, I was looking forward
to seeing the beautiful views and rare animals of the Yangtze. But when I arrived at the river,
I was totally disappointed. The pollution was far more serious than I’d imagined. In fact, the
river was so dirty that marine life could hardly be seen because so few could survive the dirty
environment.
I then made my way to the upper reaches of the river. I found that there were only a few
trees left there. In the eyes of human beings, trees are very useful things. Carpenters can
make lots of pretty furniture with wood from felling the trees, and after that, people can have
more space to build factories or do other economic activities. However, after doing all these
‘useful’ things, humans need to bear the consequences. After immense deforestation, the
flooding problem of the Yangtze River has become a lot more serious than in the past. Added
to this problem is the one I mentioned earlier. Factories pour filthy water and materials into
the Yangtze River, and the marine life dies or becomes poisoned due to the dirty environment.
If people eat them, they will get food poisoning. If humans continue to do this, they will kill
themselves one day! See! The Yangtze River was angry too! She was roaring … Wait a minute!
The Yangtze River could not roar… Then, what was roaring?
Suddenly, a huge creature came out from the Yangtze River. It looked just like a dragon.
Oh, I must be too tired. If not, why was my mind playing tricks on me? “Kitson, come here!”
Oh my God! I must be sick! If not, why could I hear a huge creature calling me? “Hey! Don’t
be so impolite! I am calling you and you shouldn’t go away!” Oh my God! It’s true! There was
a dragon in this world and he was calling me. What a big surprise! The dragon seemed to be
tired of calling me. He flew near me and said loudly, “Kitson, can you hear me?”
“Certainly I can hear you, Mr Dragon. Also, if you lower your voice, I will be able to hear
you more clearly and comfortably,” I said as I covered my ears.
“Oh! I’m sorry about that. Actually, I want you to help me do one easy thing. Will you help
me?” Mr Dragon said softly.
“It’s my pleasure. Tell me what I can do to help you,” I replied. I felt the dragon wasn’t as
cruel as I thought. Mr Dragon looked very happy and said, “Thank you very much, Kitson!
Then, please get into my mouth.” Well, forget my words! A dragon was the most savage animal
in this world!
“Err… Mr Dragon, if you want to eat me, you can just open your mouth and then swallow
me! You don’t need to ask me!” I said furiously.
The dragon looked troubled and answered, “Trust me! I’m not going to eat you!” The
dragon looked pitiful. Sigh! Leo, my son, you must listen to your mother, I thought. Isabella,
don’t miss me. We could see each other in paradise.
“Open your mouth and let me go inside!” I said. The dragon smiled and then opened his
mouth. I closed my eyes and then rushed into his mouth…
“Hey Dad! Dad! Wake up!” I opened my eyes and saw a young man hit me lightly and call
me Dad…Dad? Wait! Leo was just born this year. He didn’t know how to speak! I asked the
young man, “Who are you?” The young man looked troubled and said, “If I say that I’m your
son born 20 years ago and the dragon is a time travel machine, will you believe me?” The time
travel machine! It was really invented within 20 years, just as it said in the newspaper. And this
young man looked as handsome as me.
“I trust you, Leo – my son,” I said and then gave him a hug. Next I asked him, “Why have
you come to me?”
“Look outside and see the state of the Yangtze River after 20 years. Then you’ll know
the answer,” Leo said. I looked outside and saw a river which was dark in colour. There
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was no creature around or in the river. The environment was deathly silent. Was this our
‘Mother River’?
“Isn’t it terrible? This is the fault of human beings. They didn’t stop polluting the Yangtze
River so the river became dark in colour and all the marine life died. They didn’t stop
deforestation so flooding occurs more frequently and seriously. Many people have died due to
flooding. They tried to solve the problem and built many dams but this destroyed the ecosystem
as well as the cultural heritage. After all the dams were finished, many people had already
died or moved away from the river. If humans hadn’t felled the trees, flooding wouldn’t have
become so serious and far fewer people would have died,” Leo said sadly.
“I know all these things. I know one day this will happen. But it has all happened too fast,”
I said sorrowfully.
“No! It’s not fast. You still have 20 years to change these things. Please! Save the Yangtze
River and let your descendants see the original Yangtze River!” Leo said.
“I will. And I will ask all humans to do the same!”
“Err…Sorry sir. I don’t want to disturb you but it’s time to go. You need to meet your dad
in the future at seven o’clock,” the time travel machine said.
“If I arrive late, will you be angry?” Leo asked.
“Certainly I will!” We laughed together and then started to go back to our own century.
When I returned to my century, lots of reporters were waiting because they had heard that
the dragon appeared here. “Good Luck, dad!” Leo said.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll know soon.” I walked out of Mr Dragon’s mouth after that. And after a few seconds,
Leo went away and I finally understood his words when all the reporters ran towards me…
The next day, all the newspapers in China had the same front page and the headline was
“New Tale of the Yangtze River”.
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Fiction, Group 3
Ming Ming
Charmaine Au Yeung, 12, King George V School
M
ing Ming’s heart raced like thunder as she jolted up awake at midnight. As expected,
the mighty typhoon reached the small community of wooden sampans clustered near
the trading docks in the Yangtze River, waiting for the storm to pass.
Ming Ming’s deep and warm, coffee coloured eyes scanned her family’s small sampan. Her
eyes settled on the crack of two curtains that led to the front of it. Ming Ming could see small
wicker baskets her mother had laid outside filled with salted fish, “thousand year” eggs and rice –
tomorrow’s dinner. As far as she knew, their dinner would not survive the storm if they were outside.
Taking a deep breath in, Ming Ming opened the curtains.
“If mother can do this, you can do this.” Ming Ming told herself in a series of rapidly
spoken Chinese. Pacing herself, she grabbed three baskets and dashed back into the inside of
her sampan.
Ming Ming exhaled sharply as soon as she reached the comfort of her dry home. Her cloth
dress stuck to her body, the water acting as an adhesive. Her shoes had dark spots in random
places, like ink being dotted on a piece of paper. Grabbing another dress, she changed into
it, feeling the stitches scratch her body, making it itchy. Ignoring the discomfort, she slowly
braided her damp hair and tied it off with a strip of cloth.
It was one of those moments where Ming Ming wished that her father hadn’t died.
You see, Ming Ming’s father had been a wealthy merchant, selling an assortment of fish –
salted fish, cod – You name it.
But everyone’s life had to end. You see, her father was well-loved by almost everyone but when
he had died, Ming Ming and her mother had lost everything – money, food, and even respect.
It was as if her father had been a firecracker whilst everyone around them had been snails,
afraid anything as loud or as big as a battle. Once her father had “exploded”, they didn’t have to
respect any of its descendants like Ming Ming and her mother.
Ming Ming pushed her thoughts aside as she yawned loudly. It was already past two in the
morning as Ming Ming laid onto a stuffed burlap sack – her mattress. When Ming Ming finally
fell back into her slumber, nightmares came to haunt her.
***
So, there was a man running through a narrow alleyway by the sea alone at night. Hiding
among the shadows, another man quietly stalked him, tip-toeing to avoid the bamboo lying
on the ground. In the moonlight, something glinted in the man’s hand. As he stepped out of
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the shadows, you could see part of his face: cruel eyes and a mischievous smile. With his free
hand, the man grabbed the other man as he thrust the shiny object forwards.
The nightmare ended there.
***
Ming Ming’s head was throbbing with pain as her mother softly patted her awake.
Groaning, Ming Ming rubbed her temples as she stood up. After washing her face with a
bucket of water, Ming Ming sat down for breakfast: A bowl of rice. As they were eating, Ming
Ming heard the sound of heavy footsteps pounding the boat. Suddenly, a man burst into Ming
Ming’s sampan. His entire face was covered by a large cloth pouch with holes for his eyes and
in his hand, he held a knife. Ming Ming came to an agonising realisation: The man had come
onto their boat to kill someone.
As he brought down his knife, Ming Ming and her mother dodged his strike. Unfortunately
for them, the man didn’t give up as he brought out a bow and arrow. As Ming Ming crawled
into a corner, her hand brushed against a rough surface: A heavy rock. Reacting quickly, she
threw her rock just as the man reached for an arrow. Ming Ming prayed that the rock would hit
the man before he could get the chance to shoot.
Her prayers were answered.
The rock managed to hit the man on his foot. Howling with pain, the man withdrew and
limped back to the dock.
***
As midnight approached at the speed of light, Ming Ming laid down on her rough burlap
sack. She couldn’t stop thinking about how the man came on to her family’s boat armed and
ready to kill. It didn’t seem coincidental at all. Was he the man who killed my father? Ming
Ming wondered. As she laid onto her side, Ming Ming felt the urge to run off to find out about
the Mysterious Man. And since she couldn’t sleep, it seemed like an awfully good idea.
Tugging her slippers on, she grabbed a cloth shawl and headed outside.
***
Thirteen Years Later
It was half past three in the morning as Ming Ming tucked herself into a warm, soft
bed. As a Twenty-Five year old, you were easily distracted by your surroundings: Men, Silk
Garments and Money.
But Ming Ming was different. She had discovered the man that had tried to kill her and her
mother. His name was Zhang Li. He was also responsible for her father’s death. Now, he was
dead after Ming Ming told the Emperor about how she found out. In return for her services, the
Emperor had given her money and a place to live in the safety of the Forbidden City.
Ming Ming was also appointed as the Emperor’s head strategist.
***
Nowadays, her soul can be found lingering around the remains of her Sampan, touching
the pieces as they bring back memories of when she was alive.
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New Tales of the Yangtze River
Darren Leung Chun Tao, 15, St. Joseph’s College
T
his is precisely the place where the ancient poet Qu Yuan jumped into the Yangtze River
to commit suicide, as a form of protest against the corruption of the era, after learning
of the capture of his country’s capital. Since then, people eat Chinese Zongzis and hold
the dragon boat race at Mid-Autumn Festival to commemorate his death. Therefore, we can see
how loyal Qu Yuan is towards his country. I myself treat Qu Yuan as a model. To describe the
greatness of Qu Yuan in mere words would be like bottling the multitudinous sea into a jar…”
Andrew frowned at the tour guide in distaste. What a boring girl! He crossed his arms and
continued to stare into the howling waters, ignoring the constant droning of the tour guide.
History had long been his least favourite subject, and although he had heard of the myth of
Qu Yuan, he refused to believe such a ridiculous story. Surely, no one would do such a stupid
thing! Andrew began to wonder why he had followed his mother’s advice and joined this trip to
the Yangtze River.
Suddenly, something attracted Andrew’s attention. A faint green light seemed to be
gleaming under the howling waters of the Yangtze River. Andrew stared. Certainly, nothing
can withstand the mighty Yangtze River, yet the greenish light seemed so real! Then, without
knowing why he did it, Andrew tried to reach out to the light source, slipped, and fell straight
into the Yangtze River.
Andrew woke up to find himself in a comfortable but extremely humid room, dressed in
the type of old-fashioned coat only found in ancient Chinese operas. The room was small but
heavily decorated, with a bed decorated with Chinese dragon patterns and a few wooden crates
decorated with Chinese words. There was also a painting of the sea in Chinese style.
Andrew was astounded. He had no recollection of what happened after he fell into the
torrents of the Yangtze River. He wondered if he had drowned and ascended to heaven. Or, had
he been rescued by some fishermen and sent to this cosy little room?
Andrew went to the window in his room. The view certainly surprised him. Instead of
seeing a rushing stream of water and a piece of grassland, Andrew saw a huge block of water
and thousands of fishes and marine creatures swimming merrily in the water. The waterbed
was covered with stones. The whole sight was magnificent.
Andrew stood in disbelief. He was at the bottom of the Yangtze River, looking at the
creatures that lived in its depths! That was certainly impossible! Andrew hit his head. It hurt.
“Thank God! You are awake!” A voice rang behind him. Andrew turned around to see an
unhappy-looking man also dressed in old-fashioned Chinese clothes. “Who are you, and where
are we?” asked Andrew.
“Well … I suppose everyone knows me after I fell into the river … Anyway, I’m Qu Yuan,
and we are in my underwater fortress,” said the stranger.
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“Qu Yuan? I thought you died thousands of years ago! And how can you speak English?”
Andrew queried, confused at the fluent English the Chinese poet displayed.
“Well … Some foreigners who dropped by taught me English … But anyway, that’s not
the main point. Since you are here, can you please help me save the Yangtze River from being
destroyed?” said Qu Yuan.
“The Yangtze River … destroyed?” stammered Andrew.
“Yes, destroyed by Qin Shi Huang. Qin Shi Huang has been trying to destroy the river and
the world since he came down to the riverbed 2,000 years ago. Recently, he found a small cube
that is rumoured to be able to cause a great explosion, even greater than that of a nuclear bomb.
If we don’t find the cube before him, the Yangtze River and the Earth will be doomed!” said
Qu Yuan.
“What? That serious? Then how on earth can I get that cube?” asked Andrew.
“Well … Actually, I know the location of the cube, but I just chickened out. Can you help me?”
enquired Qu Yuan. Andrew agreed.
“Then, let’s go immediately!” said Qu Yuan. Before Andrew could react, Qu Yuan opened
the back door of the room, and pushed Andrew into the waters.
Andrew was amazed that he could breathe underwater. He immediately followed Qu Yuan,
fighting the fast-flowing currents of the Yangtze River. He eyed Qu Yuan with envy as he
moved through the currents with little effort.
After an hour of fighting against the currents, Andrew suddenly saw a small cube with
different colours lying on the ground and an ugly man trying to get it from the other direction.
Andrew became afraid that the person might get the cube before he did. He redoubled his
efforts to get to the cube.
Suddenly, the person spotted Andrew, and instantly sped towards Andrew with a sword in
his hand. Andrew retreated in panic, but to no avail. The person was too fast for Andrew. He
approached Andrew, his sword slashed down. Andrew closed his eyes.
A sword suddenly came out from nowhere and parried the attack. Qu Yuan had saved
Andrew from being sliced. He exchanged furious blows with the person, and then shouted,
“Let me deal with Qin Shi Huang. You get the cube!”
Andrew was surprised that the ugly man was Qin Shi Huang, but he obeyed Qu Yuan’s
order by advancing to the cube and picking it up. He then saw Qin Shi Huang lose his focus
when he was hit by Qu Yuan’s blade. Suddenly, a strong current hurled Andrew towards a piece
of metal. Andrew fell unconscious.
Andrew woke up again to find himself at the entrance hall of Qu Yuan’s fortress. Qu Yuan
was standing by his side, pointing at a door nearby and said, “We finally slew Qin Shi Huang
and saved the world from being doomed! Anyway, when Qin Shi Huang died, the energy
transformed into this portal, which will lead you back to the outer world. Or maybe it is due to
this cube…”
Andrew took a look at the cube. Each face of the cube was divided into nine grids, each
with a different colour. “That’s not a high-tech weapon! It’s only a Rubik’s Cube!” exclaimed
Andrew, as he grabbed the cube from Qu Yuan.
Andrew stepped into the portal, the cube in his hand. He heard Qu Yuan stammering,
“Rubik? Who’s Rubik?” before be became dizzy and fell unconscious again.
Andrew woke up to find himself on the riverbank of the Yangtze River. The tour guide was
still talking about Qu Yuan. Andrew grinned. Everything that happened in the depths of the
Yangtze River seemed like a dream…
Then he looked down, and in his hands was a Rubik’s Cube.
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Fiction, Group 3
The White Emperor: Leanna’s Diary
Emma Kious, 12, Zhuhai International School
Day 1
This morning, we began our cruise on the Yangtze River. My dad lent me an old manuscript.
Even though I couldn’t read it, I enjoyed the beautiful illustrations. Dad told me it was about
ancient tales of the Yangtze River.
I am really amazed by the river. Just looking at the water, one could tell a long history was
hidden under there. I would love to go on deck and lean against the railing to watch the water.
All I know is that I slipped and fell. The cold water felt like hundreds of small needles
whipping my face. I looked in panic but I couldn’t see the boat! I started to swim and got to the
bank. Once I was safe, I checked to see if my bag was still there. Thank God it was. Inside was
this diary, my iPad and my dad’s manuscript, all safe. I was cold and started to walk to try to
keep myself warm. The landscape around me was different, but I couldn’t understand how or
why. I just looked at it and finally realised it was the same landscape that was in the manuscript.
The black coat of night had started to fall over the earth. It was getting colder. I knew I
should search for shelter. I saw the lights of a village in the distance. I walked towards it. When
I got nearer, I realised the houses were so old!
As I entered the village, people began to come out of their houses, looking at me as if I
was strange. Then some of them started to run up to me and they bowed down in front of me as
if I was a kind of goddess. I didn’t know what to do or think. There I was, lost, alone in a world
so different from anything I ever knew with those people on their knees in front of me. I felt
bad but suddenly, a man in white came up to me and gestured to me to follow him. I did. We
walked quite a long time and I could feel hundreds of curious eyes following us. Neither of us
spoke a word.
The house we arrived at was magnificent. It was a huge castle made out of stones and
wood. I was now freezing. The man noticed. He shouted something and some seconds later,
a servant came holding a blanket. She put it on my back and led me to a warm room where
a very long table was set with many strange dishes on it. I couldn’t hold my questions back.
“Excuse me sir, but who are you?” I asked.
I didn’t know what to expect. How could this man understand me? But to my total surprise,
he responded, “I am General Gongsun. But let me ask you your question back, who are you?”
I didn’t understand what was happening but it was like I was in a dream so why not go on
dreaming? “My name is Leanna, sir. May I ask you where we are?” I replied.
“We are in my fort on the Yangtze River,” General Gongsun said.
“And when are we?” I questioned.
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“I beg your pardon?” General Gongsun said in a confused tone.
“I mean which year?” I asked again.
“Why, we are in 25 AD,” stated General Gongsun.
So I was having a conversation in Chinese with an ancient Chinese General! But how?
While I was eating, he did not talk but looked at me a lot. When I finished, he clapped his
hands and his servant came. I followed her in silence.
When we climbed up the stairs, I was once again amazed by the dimensions of the house.
I couldn’t help but stare in amazement. The room was beautiful! The walls were covered with
very old (I knew they were old but they looked as if they were just made) and beautiful Chinese
paintings. The bed was made of carved wood. The mattress was quite hard but I fell asleep
immediately.
***
Day 2
When I woke up this morning, I went back down to the dining room. Gongsun was there.
He looked very nice. I decided to tell him what had happened the previous day. I told him
absolutely everything. I was sure he would think I was crazy and would throw me outside
but I needed to talk to someone and as far as I knew, he was the only person I was able to
communicate with.
When I finished, he was silent. Then he talked very quietly but firmly, “Now listen,
Leanna. I believe you and I want you to believe me too. I think there is a reason, a purpose, for
your presence here. I need your help, would you provide it to me?”
I looked at him in wonder. I had just told him I came from the future and he continued to
talk to me normally. What did he want from me? I decided to be honest and asked.
He smiled sadly, “Right now, China is governed by people who only think about
themselves and I would like to change that. I know I can do something but I have to make
people believe in me. And here you are, coming from another time, so obviously different that
people think you are a goddess. And I believe you are the one sign I was looking for. How old
are you?” he asked, a little off-track, I thought.
I stared but replied, “12 years old.”
“Then you’re going to help me become an emperor for 12 years,” he explained calmly.
“What? How?” I asked, very confused. I looked at him thinking that one of us was now
totally out of our minds and wondering which person it was.
“I will tell everyone that you came from my dreams and that you urged me to be an
emperor to save China and its people,” answered General Gongsun.
I didn’t know whether to trust him or not but something inside my heart told me that I
should help him. After all, maybe he was right. Maybe such a crazy story was just a dream
and I had to dream it until its end if I wanted to get back to my reality. “I will help you if you
promise me two things,” I finally said.
He smiled again with his sad but gentle smile. “Which two things, if I may ask?” said
General Gongsun.
“First, you must promise me that if you become emperor, you will do good things for
China’s people. Not for yourself,” I warned.
“I promise,” said General Gongsun.
I continued, “Second, I need you to promise me that you are going to help me go back to
my home, time and family.”
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“I don’t know how but if I’m right about you being here for one reason, then I’m sure this
will happen when the purpose of your coming will be fulfilled,” said General Gongsun.
I would have preferred a clearer promise but he was being honest at least and I accepted.
We then discussed how we would work it all out.
He went to talk to the village people and I went out in the garden to sit under a beautiful
Banyan tree. I took out my iPad and started to work. I made a kind of movie with a white
dragon coming out of a white fog. It took me the entire afternoon but at the end, I had made
something I was proud of, some dreamy fantasy. I hoped people would believe in the magic of
it all.
***
Day 3
This morning, Gongsun offered me a beautiful white silk dress. I put it on, took my iPad with
me and went with him to the village.
People again kneeled in front of me and Gongsun smiled. He looked sure of what he was
doing. I was not afraid. I believed in him. He told them about me being his dream and I showed
them the dragon I held in my arms. For some time, the people were speechless. But suddenly,
they started to applaud and cried, “Hooray for our new emperor!”
Gongsun smiled a bright smile and bowed his head to me. Then it looked as if a fog was
coming out from my iPad. I closed my eyes. The air density changed slightly and when I
opened my eyes, I saw the deck of the boat. I ran to my cabin, changed clothes and carefully
packed the white silk dress. Then, I don’t know what but something urged me to open the
manuscript. Gongsun was there, smiling his beautiful smile, standing in a white dress. He was
the White Emperor and behind him, was a drawing of a white dragon in the fog. I had created a
new Yangtze River tale. I smiled, carefully packed the book alongside the dress and ran to my
parents. I desperately wanted to hug them.
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Was it Always a Dream?
Gwenyth Slaughter, 11, Hong Kong Academy
F
inally closing my chestnut eyes, I drift into a dream of fantasy and mysteries. I’m
different. I have dreams that always come true, but sometimes they’re black hearted.
I have been known to wake up drenched in sweat, screaming at the top of my lungs
because of a nightmare. I used to dream of fairies and mermaids in enchanted forests, but now
it is about a girl that falls in a lake basin and I have to find her before it is too late.
Who was the girl that fell in the lake basin? Was it me? Who was it?
With the lucid morning call of the nightingale I woke up. My heavy eyelids opened slowly
as I looked out the window. I saw the sun that was at the rim of the Yangtze River. The sun
reflected on the water as if it were about to explode into hot magma. As I sat up, my black hair
untangled to my hips in thick locks while I got out of my bed. My name is Shuǐjīng, which
means Crystal in English, I am 13 years old and I am the daughter of the last Emperor. We
migrated from the Forbidden City to Hunan province. I moved because the people of Beijing
hated my father being on the throne. The people are now taking over every palace we own. My
poor grandmother lived in the Summer Palace and she was sent away in her marble boat with
no food or any instrument of survival.
Father moved me here a year ago. We now live in this tiny palace that didn’t even exist
until three months ago. Before the palace that we call The Hideout, we lived with a jeweller in
his apartment above his shop. I love the jeweller with all of my heart. His name was Leo and he
was the world to me. He was an old wise man who was always ready to seek an adventure. He
always took me down to the Yangtze River and we would dig tunnels through the lake basins
and the water would come flowing in.
It was fascinating to see the happiness emerging from a free spirit of a man who once
saw death. Leo told me that his daughter fell in one of the lake basins and then never came
up. While he told that to me he mumbled something under his breath. That tragic day was on
September 11th. He said that he went there every year and mourned the death of his daughter.
I thought it was a horrible tradition. A tradition that should end. She was the daughter of his
dreams and he didn’t want anyone to touch her. She was as perfect as a moon and as warm as
the sun. She was the girl that made a wish come out of hiding and she was the one that died.
I made it down the cold marble steps. My swollen bound feet were aching so badly they
felt as if they were about to burst. My chest was burning from the itchy red silk qipao. A qipao
is a silk or satin dress that is usually tightly buttoned at the top at a 45 degree angle. I walked
into the breakfast chamber and Father was there eating his prawn congee with his tea. He was
wearing his usual yellow silk robe with the dragon on it. As he set eyes on me I made a small
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bow and he grunted as usual. That meant he was saying hello. As I sat in my chair I was served
noodle soup. Father didn’t say one word to me. I snuck out of the breakfast chamber and then
went straight to Leo’s house. Leo served me tea and we talked about how much I was like his
daughter. We told jokes and laughed nonstop.
“Crystal?” asked Leo.
“Yes,” I said.
“How are things doing at home, in The Hideout I mean?” he asked.
“Fine I guess,” I said. What was he playing at, I thought?
“What if something happens? What if the people of Beijing find you and your father? It is
not hard to find you. You live right on the Yangtze River.” He said.
“Well let’s hope for the best,” I said meekly, trying to change this foul subject. We then just
talked and laughed as usual. Leo then began to go all weird and creepy again. I felt cold and
not adored when this happened.
“Leo...” I hesitated. “What is wrong? You have been acting strange and desperate today.” I
said trying to be strong, but considerate.
“Oh ... My Crystal ... I need to tell you something.” said Leo. Oh no, I thought. What was
he about to say?
“Okay...” I said, choking on my saliva.
“I carry magical powers. I’ve been so concerned about you and Your Majesty that I’ve put
a spell on the people of Beijing to stop them looking for you,” stated Leo in one breath. I was
so shocked, thankful and spooked out... “Wow, Leo. That is some interesting, spellbinding
secret,” I said smoothly. I then said, “Thank you.”
That night I heard the thunderous sound of people screaming and doors getting yanked off
their hinges. Was it a nightmare? Who were these people? What was happening?
“Father!” I yelped at the top of the marble stairs. There were people all over the house
with weapons of every sort. “Father, where are you?” I shouted now or rather screamed. I then
saw a man that had a white cloth taped to his mouth. It was father, the last emperor. He was
getting dragged against the cold marble floor. Those barbaric people were treating him with no
respect or any sort of kindness. Were those the people of Beijing? How did they find us? What
were they doing here? All of these questions were flooding through my mystified head. What
was going on? I thought Leo promised that the people of Beijing were never going to find us. I
thought that Leo had devoted his magical powers to protecting my father and especially me.
I was on the verge of death. I had to get out of this perilous situation. The men started
to climb up the steps with sharp looking spears pointing forward. I had to act. I ran to my
room and locked the bulky door. I ran to my side window with the moon high in the sky, with
bright moonbeams reflecting on to the tranquil water. I opened the window and jumped with
no sense of thought. I hit the sharp grass that cut into my skin with a feeling of death. Blood
was trickling down my shins. That still didn’t stop me from running away. The only place
I thought to go was to Leo’s. I sprinted with all my force. My bound feet were aching on a
whole other level now. I could feel the agony of my bloodstained knees and my feet felt like
they were infected. I still ran. Even with my dry, bloody throat. I made it to Leo’s small and
poor apartment. I banged on the heavy oak door with all my force. I screamed, “Leo! Leo!”
I then realised that the door was open. I ran up the steps and saw that no one was home. I
turned around and saw a calendar on the small wall. I looked at it carefully and realised it was
September 11th! Leo was at the lake basin! I quickly built up my energy and scurried down the
steps. As I ran down the hill down to the lake basin I saw a bright glow. I ran faster and faster
until I saw Leo there spinning a stick that looked like a staff.
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“Ah... Crystal, I was waiting for you,” he said without turning around.
“Leo! The people of Beijing! They found us!” I shrieked.
“I know,” said Leo sounding mysterious.
“What?” I asked back.
“You know, Crystal... You remind me a lot of my poor daughter. My poor daughter had a
horrible fate that can be fixed if I trade her for someone else.” While Leo spoke I could see an
evil look in his eye. I knew I was going to die. He was so much stronger and more powerful
than me. “I brought you here, Crystal. I was the one who brought you into this world, I was the
one that made the people of Beijing angry, I was the one who brought you here.” As he spoke I
felt uneasy. “I can trade you for my daughter, I can and I will.”
I screamed as he pushed me in the water. A whirlpool formed. I then saw a girl appear next
to Leo.
“This is the new tale of the Yangtze river.”
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The Song of the
Goddess of the Yangtze
Harmony Yuen Hey Wen, 11, Po Leung Kuk Ngan Po Ling College
O
h! Mama, are we going to granny’s home for a family new year dinner tonight?” I
shouted in excitement and rolled my eyes wide big at Mama. “Yes, my dearest Bernise.
7 o’clock sharp at granny’s house.” I grinned at Mama foolishly. “Perhaps you’re
thinking of her mysterious gift?” Mama always knows what I want and think. And she’s always
right. I have been thinking about the secret gift that granny said she’s going to give me at the
last family reunion. I wonder if it’s a cash coupon for a toy shop. (You know, I want the furry
dolphin doll badly!)
As usual, the adults were at a table and all the kids were playing. Granny loves children, so
she’s always the one to take care of all of my cousins and of course, me. Granny often tells me
that I’m her favourite granddaughter. She loves me a lot and I love her too.
Only harmony is seen on granny’s face, and that’s the reason why I like her so much.
“Attention, my darlings, granny has prepared a special gift for every one of you.” She had a
warm smile on her face, and she took out big and small gifts from her bag very slowly. “This
is for you, and this is yours…” Granny spoke softly. The girls received dolls with shiny golden
hair and the boys had robots. “What about me?” I thought with jealousy, though I hate those
dolls. All the girls and boys walked around the living room in excitement, leaving granny and
me alone at the dining table.
Granny brought me into her bedroom. Her bedroom was nice, and her duvet was of golden
dolphins and a red background made of silk. I ran my fingers over her duvet as she was taking
something out of her small drawer. Then, granny was holding a pink velvet bag. It was tiny. It
was not only that, I could see something inside…Oh! Is it a necklace or a ring?
I stopped my imagination when granny started talking, “Bernise, this is yours. It’s a
treasure. It was passed down by my grandmother. It has been passed down for thousands of
years. I was told to give it to my granddaughter at the age of 80.” I was shocked, but I didn’t
make a sound. She continued as I stroked her duvet. It was smooth. “Do keep it in good
condition. It is...it is magic.” She made the word ‘magic’ very soft. Then I couldn’t stop myself
from screaming “Magic?” Grandma covered my mouth gently and whispered to my ear, “Do
you notice that you love dolphins?” Then she giggled, “And so did my grandma and I. My gran
once said that there was a very gentle kind of dolphin called baiji. They could only be found in
the Yangtze River.” Granny opened the little velvet bag. There was a sapphire necklace attached
to a golden chain. “With this, you’ll have the special ability to communicate with the baiji when
you’re holding the necklace in your palm. But remember, the spell will be ruined if you don’t
believe in the magic. And bear in mind, the sapphire will vanish if it’s seen by other people.”
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My brain was confused. I have thought of the baiji for a long time. I wish to go to the
Yangtze one day and see them. Unluckily, I knew from my previous research that baiji’s were
endangered, possibly even extinct. I wished to meet them, but I just couldn’t believe that
there was a way. I was thinking so deeply that I didn’t know granny was calling me. She put
the sapphire in my palm and smiled. Then she said, “Go to bed earlier tonight, and hold the
necklace tight in your hand before you sleep. Have sweet dreams!” Granny left the bedroom
with a smile on her face. I ran my fingers on her duvet again and murmured, “Oh, dolphins.”
“Night night, Bernise. I don’t know what gran has given you, but you seem a bit strange.
Anyway, it’s a secret between you and gran. Sweet dreams and Mama loves you!” Mama
winked and I winked back. She turned the lights off and closed the door. I had been thinking
about granny’s necklace all night. I took the velvet bag out of my pocket and kept the necklace
in my palm. I stared at the sapphire and it was sparkling with blue light. Was it the magic?
I rubbed my eyes and it was dark again. Did I make all that up? Or was it true? I couldn’t
tell. I closed my eyes and held the necklace tight. All of a sudden, a strange bluish light was
streaming from the sapphire, and there were golden and silver sparkles all around it. I shivered
in excitement. Is this all real? Not unless it’s magic!
I opened my eyes. I wasn’t sure where I was. I was under water! I looked around, and my
eyes widened in astonishment at the sight of all the colourful fish! I tried to breathe and talk –
and I could! Oh! I could even sing, and in extremely high frequency and pitch! It must be the
voice of a dolphin! Dolphins communicate by sound frequency.
The sapphire was still in my palm. I put it on my neck and held it tight. “Bernise!” came
a tinkling voice. I twirled around to see a dolphin swimming towards me. Granny didn’t lie.
The dolphin was a baiji and I could understand what it said. It must be the magic! I was too
happy to respond. I must be in the Yangtze River! The baiji continued, “A long time ago, the
sapphire necklace was found by a woman, who was your grandma’s grandma’s grandma’s…”
The baiji sighed, “In fact, baiji’s became extinct a long time ago.” I was shocked. “The sapphire
necklace can take you back hundreds of years, and the purpose is to save the other dolphins,
my friends.” I asked without hesitating, “So what can I do? How can I bring the baiji back to
2012?” The baiji seemed to be laughing, sadly. Then it said, “Of course you can’t bring us
back! How could you!” I frowned and went quiet. It continued, “The sapphire necklace can
only work once for each keeper, like you. Each time the keeper goes back to the Yangtze
hundreds of years ago. The baiji, like me, who meets the keeper, would sing the song of the
Goddess of the Yangtze, the song of us. After the song, the magic would disappear and you
would be back to your normal life. And you will find your way to save us…” I wanted to say
something, but the baiji started to sing:
The Goddess of the Yangtze
The goddess of the river
Was the dolphin, the baiji.
Sweet and elegant, across the river.
But then a man came.
He poured in dirty water.
A few of us were killed…
Some other men came—
They threw in white and red bags, big and small.
They choked us.
They overwhelmed our home.
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Some more of us were killed!
And then, a woman was washing.
She washed the clothes with detergent.
Even more of us were killed…
Years and years and years passed.
Baiji vanished, forever.
The polluted water!
The plastic bags!
The toxic detergent!
Human, human, human
Destroying our home and ruining our lives.
Why did you do that?
We forgive. No revenge.
We just want a gift, the most precious of all:
Please, we beg—
Protect the lucky ones, who are still alive.
Stop polluting the oceans and rivers
Especially the Yangtze, our home a long time ago!
Keep it a nice place, a clean and clear river.
We beg, we beg, we beg.
The song of the baiji was still in my mind. I opened my eyes and I was lying in my bed.
The necklace was still with me. I sat up straight and turned on the computer, holding the
sapphire tightly in my hand while humming the baiji’s song. Then I searched for the website of
Friends of the Earth. I typed…
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Dragon of the Yangtze River
Justin Yu, 12, Kiangsu Chekiang College, International Section
Prologue
The Yangtze River: long, vast and mysterious. A lone Chinese fisherman sat on a tiny boat, his
basket of fish almost full. He was satisfied and ready to go home when he heard a wail echoing
through the valley. The fisherman looked up, startled. The wail started again, like a baby that
had lost its mother. The fisherman turned his tiny boat and rowed in the direction of the noise.
He stopped near a small rocky gravel beach. Again, he heard the wail, closer this time. The
man stared ahead and whispered a word in Chinese...
‘Long’ – dragon.
***
Chapter 1
The hotel receptionist sat at the reception desk of the most expensive hotel in Shanghai. Three
vans with the word PREDATOR scrawled across their doors piled up in front of the hotel.
The receptionist’s eyes widened as the doors of the vans opened and armed men poured
out. The leader pushed through the spinning doors, removed his helmet and told the startled
receptionist, “I’ve got a booking under the name of the General.”
PREDATOR was a group of special biologists, formed to protect people from creatures of
different time periods which came through rips. The rips were holes in time and space. So far,
PREDATOR was in control of 200 time rips in 25 different time zones. They had been told of
a new one and six people had disappeared in mysterious circumstances.
The General turned to a scientist in a lab coat who was tapping away on a laptop.
“Our sources say that the time rip is located to the west on the Yangtze River, about three
hours drive from here.”
“Very good General, if that is indeed your name.”
The General shifted uncomfortably. Nobody knew his real name. Only he knew what it
was. The scientist, Professor Saxon had been with PREDATOR since a smilodon rampaged
through his home in London. He had since then sworn to protect people all over the world.
***
Chapter 2
The next day, the vans drove on to a small gravel beach. The General got out of the van.
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Instantly he recognised the shady opening which was the time rip. The time rip led into a
peaceful beach located in the area between different times known as the time vacuum.
“Professor! I’ve found it!” he yelled. A man burst out from a cave so suddenly that the General
was off his guard for a second but he quickly regained control and pointed his rifle at the man.
“Stop! You can’t hurt him! He doesn’t mean any harm!” The man, a fisherman, waved his
arms and yelled at the bewildered soldiers and scientists.
“Who doesn’t mean any harm?” The man launched himself at the Professor just as the
General fired a tranquilizer dart into the man’s arm. The fisherman collapsed to the ground and
started snoring peacefully.
“Take him away,” Professor Saxon ordered grimly, “He knows something.”
The time rip shivered and something stepped out of it.
“At last,” the Professor breathed, “The future.” The figure that had stepped out of the rip
was human. But he wore green armour and a biker-like helmet. The figure opened his mouth
and spoke.
“I am looking for a dragon.”
***
Chapter 3
It turned out that the man owned a zoo in the year 6792.
“So you’re some kind of futuristic zookeeper?” the General asked.
“Indeed,” replied the man, “I would like to stay and chat but I’ve got a dragon to catch.”
“By yourself?” one of the soldiers asked, amazed.
“It is just a baby, one person is enough.”
‘But it is responsible for the disappearances, it has killed six people!”
“Unlikely,” the zookeeper replied.
“You are correct,” a voice said, “It wasn’t the dragon, it was me.” Both the zookeeper and
the PREDATORs knew what he was.
“Time Rogue.” No-one knew where the Time Rogues came from. They appeared to be
human but their travelling through the rips made them change. Time Rogues had red skin and
could breathe under water. They drew their power from the famous first elements: fire, earth,
water, air and spirit.
“I came here because the Yangtze River has so much power,” the hooded figure cackled. “This
power could fuel me so much that I could live for all eternity!” His laughing stopped abruptly.
“I can feel the dragon trying to stop me,” he hissed. A head erupted from the surface of the
water. It was a Chinese dragon. It had a face with wise eyes, deer’s antlers, a lion’s mane and
sharp teeth and it was the size of a German shepherd.
“That’s a bit of a disappointment,” the Professor sighed. The Time Rogue hissed and
conjured up an orb of pure time. The dragon coughed and summoned up a tsunami wave so
terrifying it could drown a civilisation of fleas.
“I think the dragon needs help,” the General deduced wisely. He took aim and fired at the
Time Rogue. It hit the red horror in the temple.
“You think mere darts can stop me!” he growled. He pointed at the time rip, which
swallowed up all the PREDATORs.
***
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Chapter 4
Professor Saxon woke up in a rainforest. He was alone. In front of him stood a herd of
bewildered but harmless dinosaurs.
The General woke up on a field. He was alone. Norman and Saxon soldiers were staring at
him in amazement.
Meanwhile, back in 2011, the zookeeper stared at the Time Rogue.
“Where did you send them?”
“Random places in time,” the entity cackled, “Anywhere from the Big Bang to the
destruction of planet Earth.”
“Bring them back,” the zookeeper ordered, looking around at abandoned weapons and
equipment.
“Oh I think it would be much more fun if it was just you and me, General.” The Generalzookeeper stiffened, for he was the future of the now proud and powerful General, a zookeeper.
The dragon whined, annoyed at the lack of attention.
The future General sighed. “Here boy, we’re going home.” The Time Rogue laughed as the
future General picked up the dragon and walked towards the time rip.
“So this is how it ends,” the Time Rogue cackled, “Failure! The great General accepts
failure!” The future General stopped and turned. Looking at the Time Rogue with a sad smile
on his face. The dragon in his arms yipped impatiently.
“By the way, the Three Gorges Dam is going to burst and all your power will be
drained away.”
“How do you know?” The Time Rogue asked, suspicious.
“Because I,” the future General grinned, “Am from the future.” He stepped into the time
rip just as the Time Rogue yelled in fury and disappeared. In his place sat the PREDATORs,
shocked but unhurt.
China was upset about the Three Gorges Dam bursting, but life carried on. One day the
General was offered a job in a zoo and he accepted. The Professor was the one who sealed
the last time rip and as for the future General, he was doomed to live for eternity during some
point in time and he lived this out in a nice house with his good friend, the dragon.
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Fu’s Tale
Keith Leung, 13, St. Joseph’s College
T
his is a story about an evil religion along the Yangtze River in the Ming Dynasty and
my adventure related to it. My name is Fu. I shall transfix you with my strange tale.
There was an uprising in Sichuan, where I came from. In order to get away from the civil
war, many people fled the province via the Yangtze River, with my uncle, I fled with them.
At the port, my uncle bought two places for us. He went aboard the more luxurious Shui
Tai, while I boarded the sister ship, Shui Sing. We only realised the mistake when both ships
set sail for Hangzhou, which was a long way off, and my uncle waved to me frantically. The
captain refused to stop and it was no use pleading. We would have to reunite when we reached
our destination.
I thought that as there was no use trying to stop the captain, I might as well take a look
at the other passengers. It may be worth making friends with them. I was aghast when I saw
how many people were on board. There must have been at least 1,000 people. After much
questioning, I found that most of them were weathered sea dogs. My skills as a doctor were
much needed. Although I may call myself a mediocre one, I soon became popular. Some days
passed, and there was a great storm. The wind blew furiously, rain drops splattered mercilessly
on us. Suddenly, a huge bolt of lightning pierced the sky and struck right next to us. Everyone
was much relieved. With a jolt, I remembered that the Shui Tai was beside us, right where the
bolt of lightning had struck.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as a cry of dismay rose from the passengers. The Shui
Tai had been obliterated. Only a few pieces of wood and a bone, human perhaps, were left
drifting on the surface. Oh my poor uncle! May he rest in peace!
I found that the hull of Shui Tai was much smaller than that of the Shui Sing. It was
obviously constructed not long ago, probably three years. Also, the captain, Captain Dragon,
as he was called by the sailor-passengers, made regular visits to the cabin underneath the water
level, where we passengers were strictly prohibited to go. There must be something murky and
dark going on. Once I tried to peek into it. I could only see a huge rock and lots of yellow pieces
of paper in the vast room. There were some scribbled writings on it. I recognised what it was
right away – a spell to keep evil spirits away. Were there dead people or demons in that room?
Suddenly, somebody pushed me aside roughly. It was the first mate, Hong. I immediately
apologised to him for my rudeness and under his glaring eyes, fled back to the deck where I
shared my bone-chilling discovery with my new friend, Chun. We both agreed that something
fishy was going on down there.
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At night, I tossed and turned in my bed. I couldn’t wipe the image of the yellow papers
away. Then, I heard a sobbing sound and I froze in terror. I instantly connected it to the thing
in the underwater cabin. I prayed for it to go away but instead it came closer. The third time I
heard the sobbing sound, it was directly beneath me. I had an uneasy night.
The next day, the storm was still raging. Therefore, the captain held a god-worshipping
ceremony. As it started, the crew hauled a huge statue of a strange god up. I gawked at it. It
was composed of a hawk’s head; its big, fierce, evil eyes bore down on us. It had a naked man’s
torso, an extremely muscular body and the feet of a horse. The passengers seemed to know
what it was for they clapped and cheered and they read a long passage in a language I had never
heard of and ate a large chunk of meat. The ceremony was over.
The captain sent for me as soon as the people left to go to their own bunks to chat. “Ahoy!
You that snoopy doctor! Yes, you! Captain Dragon wants to see you!” bellowed Hong.
“I heard that you are a good doctor, and a discreet one, too,” the captain said mildly. “I
hope you would spare some time and have a look at my daughter, Lin.”
“Daughter?” I was incredulous, and wanted to laugh. Captain Dragon looked like a hippo,
what would his daughter look like?
“Yes, and may I lead you to her room,” he gestured toward the room with the yellow papers.
Though I now knew that the sobbing creature down there was just a sick girl, I still felt
scared and reluctant to go, but I went in anyway.
Trying to ignore the yellow spirit-proof papers, I made my way to a bed in a corner, where
a girl was sitting. She was very pretty.
The beautiful girl looked about 16 and was very pale. I measured her pulse and found
nothing unusual. Still, she looked expectant, so I gave her some medicine which I thought
could not cure her, because there was a large pile of the same medicine in a corner and that
spoke of at least five doctors already consulted. Now I saw that the yellow papers were part of a
therapy. Therefore, the illness would not be easily cast off, that was my deduction.
A few days passed before I became the trusted right-hand man of Captain Dragon. I was
credited for curing his daughter. Actually, I know that the illness hadn’t really gone away, but I
wasn’t going to tell him.
Then one day, the captain sent for me in his private room. I knew in an instant that he was
going to tell me something important. What was his dark secret?
“Three years ago, we found a shipwreck. It belonged to a wealthy Han merchant. The ship
was loaded with goodies. We weren’t able to take much, for our ship was small, but now we’ve
got a much bigger ship, we are going to take everything. Then, everybody will be rich.”
I shared it with a small group of passengers who I trusted not to leak the news, Chun was
included in the band.
Without warning, one of them suddenly stood up and shouted, “I’m not going to be one
of those eaten!” He plunged into the water, attempting to swim to the shore. A humongous
crocodile surfaced, ate him up in one gulp. We stared at the blood in the water and thought,
“Why was he so scared? Why would we be eaten?”
Nothing but greed drove us on the following week. Finally, one of the crew said,
“Shipwreck to starboard!” We were overjoyed to have reached the treasure island and
celebrated on the ship for one whole day.
The next day, we boarded the shipwreck. We found a large room filled with gold and
jewellery. We stuffed our bags full and entered a side door, anticipating more treasure.
I felt ominous in the oddly bare room we just entered. Maybe that was only a feeling every
one of us was experiencing, but even I didn’t believe that explanation.
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We proceeded into another large room with a large pit in the middle.
I peeked into it. At least 1,000 people were in there, standing in a spiral shape. Their skin
was smooth and soft. They looked alright except that they had a dead look in their eyes that
made me understand they were dead.
“Oh no! We have to get out of here,” I said. I was really scared.
“Exactly 5,000 people, very satisfying,” Lin, daughter of Dragon, said quietly. She
transformed into a monster, which resembled the evil god I saw back on the ship. People were
horrified when they realised what was happening.
‘No, please let me go!” One of the passengers cried in terror.
From his stuttering statements moments before his death, I was able to figure out that
the evil god of Yangtze surfaced occasionally to collect people and drag them down into the
river to eat. It had also taken the shape of Dragon’s daughter to remind them to sacrifice 5,000
people in compensation for his escape three years ago. We were shipped here to be eaten.
“Too late now,” Lin the evil god said, as a maelstrom formed and ripped its way to us,
swallowing everyone but me.
“Farewell, good man,” the evil god said to me. I lost consciousness.
The next time I woke up, I was safe and sound on a beach in Hangzhou.
I have kept it a secret for 20 years, for I fear the evil god of Yangtze, but now I have
decided that the world should know about the 5,000 missing of Shui Sing.
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Dragon Warrior
Ryan Ng, 11, Dulwich College Beijing
U
nder the misty region of fluffy, pale pink clouds and a cerulean blue sky in the grand,
powerful, almighty land of China, there was a towering mountain that pierced the
clouds, that gave people their creativity, emotion and power, and a slender river that
snaked through the land, giving people their willpower, knowledge and soul. These were
the two elements that supported human life, yin and yang. If even one of them were to be
annihilated, it would bring down with it humankind and the world itself.
To help protect us from the evil that may happen, there were two dragons that one day, in a
flash of brilliant lightning, descended from the heavens to protect us. The black dragon flew to
the north, to protect the Mountain of Yin, and the white dragon flew to the south, to protect the
River of Yang. Everything was peace and quiet – for a while, anyway.
One day, an evil wizard from Japan came to this blessed land of China. Not just any evil
wizard, mind you, the Evil Wizard, who had thrown countless lands, regions and empires,
even, into hopeless peril.
The Evil Wizard cackled, “Now, what can I destroy? Hmm…Ah! I shall carry my 50
most poisonous, deathly, nasty, evil and wicked potions to destroy the dragons from Heaven
and finally destroy the yin and yang!” With an evil cackle, he slinked away to his cauldron to
concoct his ghastly brews.
In the capital of China, Xi’an, the holy oracle in the emperor’s court suddenly jolted up
and rasped, “Something disastrous is going to happen. I see … a dead dragon! Send him help
immediately!” The Emperor Tze, however, was completely lost in thought and only heard
the word ‘dragon’. Suddenly he was a different person, in a completely different era, in a
completely different place…
The emperor was 11, and he had wandered out of the palace in search of a rare mushroom.
It was there, at a small hill just north of the palace, that he met the most ferocious dragons
ever seen. They hissed smoke and spurted acid. Their once golden scales now corrupted; a
deep violet shade. They slithered down to the petrified prince, glaring at the future emperor
with a dagger-like stare. Suddenly, a sleek white dragon burst through the skies and let loose
a ferocious thunderbolt. It struck a shadow lurking in the shelter of these beasts. There was an
ear-piercing scream as the dragons, looking quite bewildered as the shimmering golden sheen
returned to them, flew off in various directions back to their homeland. The shadow, who lay
crumpled on the earth with his hand covering his face, screeched in agony.
“Curse you, dragon! I will not rest in peace until your bones are scattered across this
doomed land. I’ll take my revenge!” With that, he vanished in a flash of darkness. The young
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emperor, frightened by the sight of both the dragon and the wizard, slumped to the ground,
unconscious. This evil man was now the evil wizard plotting against the dragon. After his
defeat by the dragon, he strived to destroy the world, a feat tried by many and completed by
none. He worked relentlessly for months, years and decades and as said before, he toppled
countless empires, just to absorb their knowledge and energy for the final fight.
Meanwhile, back in court, the king had ordered two legions, 1,000 men each to strengthen
the security along the two sacred sites. His Head of War, however, totally disagreed and
suggested that the troops be used to protect the people. The emperor, with a splitting headache
pounding his temples, left the two leaders to continue their senseless bickering.
Somewhere else, the slender white dragon woke up from a quick nap under the shade of the
forest by a sudden jolt to his spine. Sensing an evil presence lurking not too far away, he shot
up into the sky to perform a patrol of the nearby areas. He thought, “Strange, this presence that
I feel now is the same when I saved the young emperor from that man. Could it … Oh no!” He
rushed off to find his twin, the black dragon, immediately.
Back at the palace, the Head of War had won the debate and was now sending troops to the
nearby towns. Emperor Tze had decided to pay his very dear friend, the dragon a visit by the
river when suddenly a messenger dashed into the hall announcing both dragons were spotted at
the Mountain Yin. This made the emperor decide to get there as soon as possible, to not leave
the river vulnerable to attacks.
Unfortunately, completely unknown to both the emperor and the white dragon, the evil
wizard was already beginning his first move. Stepping out of his secret hideout deep within
the valley, he muttered a strange incantation and a strange indigo orb descended from the sky.
It unfurled its wings and lifted his head. It was Garaunda, the bitter rival of the twin dragons.
Garaunda cocked his head and splattered the glowing slime on his wings everywhere.
Garaunda moaned, “You again? The last time I helped you, you led my entire legion of
dragons into a one-sided battle! Why should I trust you?”
The Evil Wizard brushed the dust off his robes and sneered, “Because, my friend, this time
I have prepared very well. My assistant has led the emperor completely on the wrong road and
the white dragon is very far away; all the way up in the north with his twin. Nobody, I repeat,
nobody will get in our way this time. Yin and Yang shall be ours!” His evil laugh echoed
throughout the mountains, resounding in the ears of the emperor.
Just then, the emperor rode into the valley on his mighty steed where the Evil Wizard was
and drew his golden dragon sword. “Evil Wizard, your reign in this land ends today! I shall
crush you completely!”
The Evil Wizard just grinned and said, “Oh really, your sword against my magic? And
with only one general and two soldiers? My, my, my, you’re getting over-confident, aren’t you?
Well, now it is time for your doomsday. Sajagahradihnest!” The wizard raised his hands toward
the sky and a jagged bolt of purple lightning fell out of the sky, instantly killing both soldiers
and the general. “You’re next!” grinned the Evil Wizard.
A storm began gathering over the valley. Sheet after sheet of rain began pouring down
onto the ground, causing an instantaneous flood. It swept away both the Evil Wizard and the
emperor, continuously dragging them beneath the malevolent waves. At last it spat them both
out at the River of Yang, where stood before them, towering down from the heavens, the black
and white dragons.
“Curse you!” the Evil Wizard spat, “You have intercepted my plans yet again!” Then his
face morphed into a horrible grin. “But as we speak, my lieutenant is invading the Mountain
of Yin.” Seeing the confused look on the emperor’s face, he laughed. “I have possessed your
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Head of War to do my bidding. Instead of leading the troops to protect, they’re going to
destroy the mountain!”
Suddenly the emperor launched himself toward the wizard, his sword swinging around in
a wide arc. The Evil Wizard easily stepped aside and sneered, “Bring it on!” The ground began
crumbling beneath the emperor’s feet, creating an endless abyss.
The emperor managed to grab onto a ledge and swung himself to the top, kicking the evil
wizard backwards, leaving him stumbling. Then he let out a powerful battle cry, “I am the
Dragon Warrior!” Gathering a mass of lightning with his sword, he shot it towards the wizard.
The wizard only just barely managed to put up a shield while throwing a mass of different
potions toward the emperor. A mass of fire from the twin dragons incinerated them; causing
the contents to spurt everywhere, on everyone.
The Evil Wizard, lying on the ground defeated, gave a weak grin as the emperor
approached him. “It’s too late. We’ll all die.” Just as the emperor was about to lay the final
blow, Garaunda, who until then had been hiding, flew towards the twin dragons and let loose
an acid blast against their lightning bolts. Then an explosion.
So you were wondering what happened? Well, all three dragons, the wizard and the
emperor died in the explosion, their bodies not to be found. The force of the explosion was so
big that the river turned its entire course to central China. The people of China now remember
their emperor and the black and white dragons as heroes, ‘The Warrior and His Twin Dragons’.
And of the Head of War, when he tried to destroy the Mountain of Yin, the force destroyed the
entire group of soldiers but also scattered the Mountain of Yin into five pieces, now the Five
Great Mountains of China.
Since the emperor was called Tze, as a tribute to his great sacrifice, they renamed the river
of Yang as the Yangtze River, the river of sacrifice, hope and, most importantly, courage.
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Children of the Yangtze River
Shannon Hu, 11, Yew Chung International School
T
he twins are born near the water at the Wu Gorge. Their parents will not survive much
longer. The mother was once a beautiful Mermaid of the Sea and the father a royal
Prince of the Sky, but they were changed to humans because of their children.
They died, knowing they had been changed to humans for nothing, because the twins
would die as well.
But the children survived. And this is their story.
***
Tze Yuan, the girl, wakes up from a deep sleep.
She sees her brother Yang Fei lying near the water and shakily drags him away.
As she does this, her arm dips into the water and something inside her stirs. Suddenly, she
can’t resist feeling the liquid again and the same feeling washes over her.
At this moment Yang wakes up and stretches his arms, trying to clear his thoughts. But as
he stretches he feels something well up inside him, like what Tze had felt. He is stunned.
Tze looks back at her brother and for a moment they share the same stirring feeling
inside them.
Without thinking, Tze dives into the water, marvelling at the wonderful feel.
Inspired by his sister, Yang lifts himself up and soon his feet have left the ground and he
is flying.
As Tze watches Yang twirl and dance in the sky, she suddenly feels as if the world is
spinning…
***
Tze woke up on the sand at the bottom of the river. “Look! She’s awake!” a melodic
voice murmured.
Soon many mermaids had surrounded Tze, all peeking at her curiously.
“Susie, how can she breathe down here? She’s not one of us,” one whispered. Tze tried to
concentrate on them through the filtered light of the sun.
“Take her to Mistress; I’m sure she’d be interested,” the one named Susie chirped. A
mermaid gently picked Tze up, saying, “Now, be obedient.”
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Tze was brought before Mistress, an old but powerful mermaid. “Mistress,” Susie
addressed her, “Sorry for the disruption but we thought you might be interested in this child
we found.”
“I can see you have brought a child. But what interests me is the fact this child can
breathe underwater when it’s not a mermaid...” Mistress’s spidery fingers inspected Tze.
Suddenly she gasped.
“No … it can’t be. She couldn’t have survived ... a miracle! Melanie, take it away and lock
it in a chamber. We cannot let it escape.”
Melanie and Susie took Tze out of the throne room and down a long corridor. “How is she
a miracle?” Melanie wondered.
“And why would Mistress lock her up?”
“Strange of her, don’t you think? And who did she mean when she said ‘she couldn’t
have survived’?”
There was a pause. “I think I know,” Susie whispered.
Susie was older than Melanie and more experienced.
“The girl’s mother, Rosalie … she had children with a Prince of the Sky. But Mistress was
angry she disobeyed so she banned her from returning and changed her to a human. Mistress
never expected her – or the children – to survive.”
“Here we are: Chamber H391.” The chamber was dark and small, like a dungeon.
Susie suddenly could not let go of Tze. “I can’t do this, Melanie. It’s not right.”
“We can’t disobey Mistress. You know that.”
There was a long silence. “Melanie’s right.” Tze’s tiny voice rang. “Just put me into the
chamber and forget about it. You can’t save me if it means you will get punished.”
Melanie and Susie both stared at Tze, and they made their decision.
***
“Shh!” Melanie shushed. “Try to open the door silently, Susie.”
Creak. Thump.
Suddenly there was the sound of movement nearby. The mermaids ducked into Chamber
H391 and slammed the door behind them.
“We’re dead, Melanie,” Susie whimpered.
“There’s an opening in the ceiling.” Tze whispered.
“Who is it?” a guard’s voice rambled. “I know you’re here. Don’t think you can hide
from me!”
There was the sound of Chamber H391’s door opening and someone entering. The
mermaids quickly exited out of the ceiling and found themselves back where they had
found Tze.
A force suddenly took hold of Tze and made her survey the bottom of the river.
Look at the Yangtze River. A voice crooned. See the plants, the fish, the water, and the
sand. They are happy and content, but not for long.
The Witch Goddess will take over and all creatures that refuse to swear loyalty will suffer.
Mistress is trying all she can do to destroy evil, but there is one piece missing from the puzzle.
This explains why she was overjoyed when she realized who you were.
The Witch Goddess wants you and your brother for reasons nobody knows. And if she
doesn’t have you both by the end of this season she will destroy the Yangtze.
Look, the Royals of the Sky have already taken your brother. An image appeared: Yang,
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struggling with guards of the Sky… The King of the Sky will no doubt contact Mistress and
you children will be given to the Witch Goddess as soon as possible.
We all want to give you a choice, but trust me, you can’t say no. Would you really watch
the Yangtze River be destroyed knowing you could have saved it?
The way it was put Tze could never refuse. She was just a child, after all. No more than a
year old and facing such serious problems. But Tze was not a normal girl, and neither was the
situation she faced.
The day arrived and Tze was tied to a tree near the shore where Mistress could see her
from the water.
Tze could tell time was short; the waters were already turning black and choppy.
Clouds in the sky parted and the King of the Sky descended, along with two men
carrying Yang.
That wonderful moment when Tze and Yang saw each other! They both felt much stronger
than before.
Yang was then tied next to Tze and the prosecution began.
The priest of the Sky came before Yang and Tze: “Please repeat after me,” he paused. “We,
Tze Yuan and Yang Fei, are aware that our parents have broken the law and our existence is a
mistake. To mend this mistake we will offer ourselves to the Witch Goddess as a sacrifice.”
The children repeated after the priest.
“It is time. Let us proceed,” the priest’s voice echoed.
The waters were now looking a dangerous colour, and the mermaids were looking
uncomfortable.
After this, Mistress and the King had to sign special papers and recite after the priest.
“And it is done,” the priest called.
Suddenly the waters swirled up and twisted every which way, with the Witch Goddess
on top.
“Finally, I’ve been waiting for your call a long time. Yes, it is done.”
With that, the Witch Goddess disappeared underwater, and the swirling waters lunged at
the children.
All that was left was a few broken pieces of rope, lying slack on the ground.
Yang and Tze were gone. They had combined in one, now named Yangtze, and they took
all the evil of the Yangtze River along with them.
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Yangtze Secret
Taylor Payne, 13, Canadian International School
I
n Shanghai, Ms. Jenny Xiao’s publishing office was one of the biggest buildings in town. It
was 67 floors, and the top floor, where she worked, had a breathtaking view of the Yangtze
River. Inside, there were about 70 people sitting at desks, typing away. The room smelt
of coffee and freshly printed-paper. At the biggest desk sat a woman, around the age of 30,
with jet-black hair that went down to her elbow. On her desk was a huge placard that had her
name engraved on it, “Xin Shu”. Xin Shu had a long slim nose that matched her long, slim
face. She had small brown eyes and a thin, red mouth. She was wearing a black pencil skirt,
and a tailored black jacket. Around her neck was a long thick, silver chain. She stood up, and
organised the papers on her desk. Wobbling on her high, black stilettos, Xin Shu sauntered over
to the photocopy machine.
“Xin Shu! Xin Shu! Lai, lai! Come here!” a loud, grainy voice screeched from behind
Xin Shu.
She froze and looked around. No one seemed to have heard the nasally screeches calling
out her name. This was not good. If the boss screamed at you like that, it was a good topic for
gossip. She quietly slipped through the black, metal door, making sure no one saw her. Inside
was another small office with a huge black desk and shelves stacked with books. The carpet
was scarlet red, much nicer than the dull grey one in the other office. A Bonsai tree was placed
precariously on the windowsill, and standing next to it, looking out the window was a tall,
skinny woman with a huge black bun stacked on the top of her head.
“Xin Shu, you’re fired,” the woman said flatly.
Xin Shu froze. She started to feel nauseous. Gripping the desk with one hand, she grabbed
her head with the other.
“What? Why?” Xin Shu asked in confusion.
She felt as though her knees were going to buckle under her.
“You made a mistake on one of the dates that was going to be published. I can’t have
mistakes. Especially not in this economy,” the woman explained, turning around.
She had a square shaped face and lipstick covered lips. As she walked over and sat down
on her chair she adjusted her red glasses. Around her neck, a huge jade pendant swung back
and forth, brushing against the pearl buttons of her white, silk blouse.
“But, but, Ms. Xiao, I’m a single mom! I have kids!’ Xin Shu stuttered, her hands shaking.
“Then I’ll fire your kids as well,” Ms. Xiao snapped, standing up and turning her back
to Xin Shu to file some papers. “I expect you to be packed up and out of here by 12:00 noon
today.”
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Xin Shu was shocked. She had worked here for 3 years, walking Ai Bai, and An Bao,
Ms. Xiao’s chowchows, getting her special diet green tea, taking calls, organising meetings,
and now after messing up just one of the dates, she will end up on the streets. Anger started
to build up inside her. She made a grab for the desk when she felt a piercing pain in her hand.
Wincing, she looked down to see a long line of blood on her right hand. She glanced over to
the desk and saw an ancient Chinese dagger, one of the many artefacts Ms. Xiao had in her
office. She picked it up in her hand and looked at Ms Xiao, still filing and organising with her
back to her. Just one swift movement and she would pay the price. Xin Shu’s eyes narrowed
and her breathing increased and became heavier. She gripped the dagger tighter and her anger
overflowed.
“You’re still here!” Ms. Xiao sang coldly without looking at Xin Shu.
Xin Shu slowly made her way towards Ms. Xiao, holding the dagger above her head.
“You can’t fire me. You need me!” and with that, she plunged the dagger into Ms. Xiao’s
back, and ripped it out.
Screaming, she stabbed her repeatedly. How could she do this to her? She had been loyal
for so long. And how had she repaid her? By kicking her to the curb! Ms, Xiao’s face turned
white. She fell to her knees, gasping for air. Her eyes widened as her white blouse turned
scarlet red. As she fell to the floor, her head made a loud thump.
Panting, Xin Shu dropped the dagger and kicked it under the desk. Collapsing to her knees,
she put one hand over her racing heart and the other over her pounding head.
No one could know. She had children! She couldn’t lose them! And it was not that hard to
hide. No one saw her enter Ms. Xiao office, and the doors were sound proof because Ms. Xiao
often had loud fights with her ex-husband. And the carpet was already scarlet red, so no one
would notice the stain straight away. She would have to hide the body so that no one would
see it and freak out. Tossing Ms. Xiao over her shoulder, she staggered over to a huge wooden
closet at the back of the room. She propped her up and slammed the door shut. She grabbed the
dagger and headed over to the mirror.
She straightened herself out and practiced breathing. She smiled, putting the dagger
behind her back. She looked normal, for someone who just committed murder. She got ready
and headed over to the door, then stopped in her tracks. She couldn’t just walk out of the room
in front of everyone! Someone will eventually find Ms Xiao, and she will be the first suspect.
She looked around. How was she supposed to get out? She found a small fire escape, and
clutching the dagger, raced down the stairs. She jumped into her car and sped down the street,
heading straight for the bank of the Yangtze. Taking care that no one was watching, she opened
her window and tossed the dagger into the river. It rolled and turned under the small, rippling
waves, and eventually submerging completely. How many secrets did the Yangtze hide, she
wondered, before speeding away. Now, it held hers.
She picked up Ms. Xiao’s dry cleaning and her regular tea order so that it would look like
she left the office for a reason. Then, she jumped in her car and zoomed back to the office. She
slammed the door and ran into the elevator. Nervously, she bit her nails and tapped her foot.
She counted the floors in her head. “Level 63, 64, 65, 66, and liu shi qui! 67.”
She stepped out and walked over to a young, petite intern with a short, black bob and
placed the tea down on her desk.
“Ni hao Mei Le. Hello Mei Le. Can you please drop this off to Ms. Xiao office? I need to
work on a publishing layout for her,” Xin Shu pleaded, smiling sweetly.
Mei Le gave her a fake smile and grabbed the cup.
“Sure Xin Shu!” she exclaimed through gritted teeth.
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“Thanks so much!” Xin Shu grinned, and spun around.
Mei Le rolled her eyes and trudged over to Ms. Xiao’s door. Xin Shu watched as she
banged on the door. When there was no answer, she opened it and walked through. Xin ,
Shu’s eyes fluttered from her computer and back to the open door. After about one minute,
Mei Le walked out of Ms. Xiao’s office and walked over to Xin Shu.
“Um, Ms. Xiao is not in there,” she announced, gesturing with the cup to the door
behind her.
“What do you mean ‘she’s not in there’? Did you see her leave? Ai ya, do I have to do
everything myself, la?” Xin Shu stated, getting up and strutting over to the office, with Mei Le
following behind.
Xin Shu walked into the office and looked around. She turned to Mei Le.
“Well, did you check to see if her coat was gone?” she asked, walking over to the closet.
She pulled it open and Ms. Xiao fell out. She screamed and Mei Le burst into tears.
“Someone quick! Call the police! She’s dead! Someone killed her!” Xin Shu screamed,
running out of the room.
***
Soon the place was packed with cops, questioning Xin Shu. She heard them saying things
like “she was out running errands for her and she was the one who found her in the closet.”
Soon, one of the officers approached her.
“Ms. Xin you are free to go. Xei xei ni. Thank you for your time,” he informed her.
She smiled and nodded, and headed into the elevator. When the elevator doors closed, she
grinned. She got to keep her job, but that didn’t really surprise her. After all, Ms. Xiao wasn’t
the first boss who tried to fire her, unsuccessfully.
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Sacrificial Twinning
Vanessa Ma Yuen Kwan, 14, Diocesan Girls’ School
W
ow!”
“Awesome!”
“The world’s biggest hydroelectric power station, papa!”
The tourists scattered, eyes glowing, cameras emerging, chatter buzzing in the thick
summer air. Children tugged urgently at the hems of their parents’ sweatshirts, and even the
sulkiest of teenagers turned up their grimy faces to survey this masterpiece in subdued awe.
Looming ahead of them, a silver island basking in the harsh midday sun was China’s
newest, greatest pride and joy. The “ultimate solution to flooding” on the Yangtze River: the
Three Gorges Dam, the most capacious hydroelectric enterprise in the world, and source of
electricity to nearly ten per cent of China.
Perched on a nearby cliff, the tourists ooh-ed and aah-ed as the water swelled up to the
dam, slapping against the sturdy stone structure, before returning with renewed, multiplied
adrenaline, swishing and gurgling, then bursting over the dam, hurtling down to the lowland: a
streak of burning, foaming white, leaving a fearful lion’s howl in its wake.
Piao liang de bei hou ding shi hen duo de xi sheng.
Behind beauty is always a lot of sacrifice.
So true, he thought. He had led tourists here numerous times, and while each chattering
group had been as dazzled as every other, there never seemed to have been any novelty meant
for him. Wiping his brow with a soiled handkerchief, he sighed heavily and closed his eyes.
Xiao shi hou, ma ma dui wo jiang
Da hai jiu shi wo gu xiang
Gu xiang. Homeland. How much had been given to him there, and how much more taken.
Swivelling around, he squinted downwards, and gentle waves lapping against a smooth,
weathered slab of sedimental stone came into focus.
We used to fish for prawns there, Haixiang and I. We never found any, but it was worth
rediscovering all the trash we’d accidentally discarded earlier. A magical smile spread across
his face. Remember how, the first time you met, you fell into the water? He dived into it at once
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to save you. A little voice echoed inside his head.
Yeah, he did. He remembered with utmost certainty. And I promised myself I would
always, always remember that. I promised I would one day return that sacrifice. And now I
don’t even know where he is anymore. Prickly heat spread through his body, bringing on a rush
of anger. I don’t even know whether he’s alive, or dead.
***
There are things that contribute to an unspoken pride for a dying-out village: knowing the
native tongues, playing the folk songs ... And sharing all of that with one special person.
Haixiang and I. We were the kids who went missing for one night, sitting on a nearby cliff
which we dug a tunnel to get to, laughing as the whole village set out to find us, and guffawing
even more the next day as they recounted the incident, including how abashed they were to find
us sound asleep, albeit rather muddy, in our own respective beds.
The non-biological Siamese twins. That’s what we were. We swore never to forget each
other, always to look out for one another. But that all changed.
It all started with me coming back from a trip with a few other fishermen. It was a timehonoured event, attended the generation before by my father, representing our village, and now
me. To socialise with other fishermen as an ambassador was one of the highest honours anyone
of our background could be granted. It was something memorable, exclusive and a symbol of
ultimate achievement.
Receiving the compliments of others towards our culture and accomplishments,
we ended the event by cooking over a bonfire at a nearby island, and then parted to our
respective residences.
However, something boded ill. About half an hour to my community, there were two
infamously dangerous precipices. Nearly touching, the turns were sharp, and the current strong.
Many a fisher had lost their life in this place. My family dubbed it chuan de fen wu – boat’s
cemetery. But today, I seemed to never reach it.
Realising this too late, I shivered. To my right was a looming shadow, serenely terrifying.
Something portended horribly ill. Bravely, I turned my head.
When I was little, my grandfather planted a tree on top of a cliff facing our village. I could
recognise it anywhere. But this time, I found myself face to face with the trunk of the tree. And
that could only mean one thing...
***
Flooded. All flooded. All for the purpose of this dam. He remembered seeing the tip of
the clock tower, remembered breaking into a window and seeing everything – memories wet
and sodden. He remembered the eerie silence when he yelled and howled with despair and
helplessness. He remembered when he swam back to his boat, which had drifted peacefully off,
seeing plastic-vested construction workers hard at work building this wretched structure.
He remembered the outrage.
He remembered the pain.
Family, friends, memories, home.
All gone.
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He didn’t remember how he rowed to the nearest city. He didn’t remember who picked him
up. He didn’t remember how he earned enough money to buy a train ticket. The next thing he
knew, he was in Hong Kong.
***
I recall my parents once saying that there was one city, one beautiful city in China, called Hong
Kong. They said it was once a paradise for fishing. So, when the government refused help to me, and
offered no apology as to why none of us were notified of this new project, that was where I went.
Little did I know, Hong Kong had changed. Instead of being a tranquil harbour where
chatter about seafood would be common, where the marine industry would be upheld and
honoured, it was now a financial city, with glistening skyscrapers made from bulletproof glass,
and men in suits, rushing around tapping on small, talking gadgets.
It took a while for me to settle down. Aimlessly, I travelled to Tin Shui Wai, hearing a
businessman saying it was a district full of poor people.
Tin Shui Wai at night was a very busy place. It was a time of trade, and of the convenience
store. It was dinner, hand-letters and Hong Kong culture. Many of its citizens could barely
afford the money to purchase a cart and sell cooked goods or handmade crafts. Before, it paid
much better. But ever since hawkers had been banned, we lived in constant threat and fear that
policemen would somehow outrun us and confiscate all we had.
I sold sauce. Prawn sauce, to be exact. Made from the prawns Haixiang and I wanted
so much to procure. Each time I sold a jar, each time the grubby coins were stuffed into my
sweaty palms, I would remember my promise.
To return that sacrifice.
***
He reminisced about how he managed to scrounge enough profit to find a decent secondhand suit. He thought back to spending hours and hours in the library, researching the Three
Gorges Dam, the afflicted affair which had sent the tightly knit ball of yarn which was his
life rolling, unravelling, entangling. He tasted the fervour and urgency, the anger and bitter
sweetness a rich tang on his tongue.
And one day, he remembered deciding he had had enough. He walked into a tourism
agency, advertising a tour to the Three Gorges Dam, and demanded to see the manager. Once
he was invited into the posh, leather-coated office, he gave a speech on the dam that had so
destroyed his life. He spoke with flair and with passion, and a loud silence followed the end of
his rant, as the last rings sounded off into the day.
It was impossible for the manager not to be impressed by this young lad’s extensive
information bank on this one large structure. It was even more certain that he must be
overwhelmed by the amount of unspoken emotion he had for it.
Needless to say, he got the job.
“A sunset!”
A ringing child’s voice jolted him from his reverie. He stood up and surveyed the cliff,
hoping against hope that the folk song had not been just a hallucination.
Zou pian tian ya hai jiao,
Zong zai wo di shen pang
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To the depths of the sky and the ends of the sea, you’ll always be with me. A song once
shared with the most important person he’d ever met in his life. The ending note sounded
sweetly, sorely in his ear. Reminded once again of his unfulfilled promise, he bent and masked
his tears behind a shock of matted hair.
He had lost so much: family, friends, occupation, belonging, a place to call home.
So much to sacrifice for something China had to show the world.
So much to sacrifice for beauty.
The tears came faster, hotter.
A hand rested on his shoulder, warm and inviting.
“Why are you crying?” a deep voice asked, in his native tongue.
He turned on his heels, flabbergasted. A dark face with a wide smile greeted him.
“Welcome back, twin.”
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A World of Metal
Warrick Chung, 13, The International School of Macao
P
aul Ahnksithami stood on the banks of what was once the Yangtze River. He was one
of a group of people who resided closest to the centre of the Steel Bowl. His group was
called the Resistance. This was rather apt considering his was the only group actively
opposing the Servants. This name was ironic considering that the Servants didn’t serve anyone.
In fact, they used captured humans to serve them, which was also ironic as the Servants once
used to serve the humans.
Perhaps an explanation is in order. It is the year 6010 and robots are ruling the world.
These robots are not what your mind would normally conjure upon hearing the term. They
actually look like alarm clocks until they sprout metallic clawed legs, razor blade arms, and a
whole lot of other weaponry. The ‘alarm clocks’ are the minds of the robots. They are equipped
with artificial intelligence and have an incredibly fast capacity to adapt. These Servants are
derived from a group that once served as bodyguards, hence the weapons. There used to be
many branches of Servants such as cooks, builders, butlers and others. The bodyguards wiped
out all of the other branches when they took over. Now, their main goal is to capture humans to
clean the Servants, wash them, repair them and make more of the Servants. The victims are all
placed under a mind-controlling device that renders them incapable of fighting back.
As Paul stood staring out into the deserted wasteland, all he could do was wonder how
his ancestors could have lost control of the situation so entirely. How had they been defeated
so easily by something they created? The truth was very simple. His ancestors had become fat
and lazy, so the Servants stole the instructions for making themselves from the fat old president
while he was drooling in his sleep. Paul’s group was fighting for survival. They were planning
a battle that would turn the war with the robots in their favour. All they had to do was convince
the other groups to join them, but this was no easy feat as most of the others were too terrified
of the Servants to live out in the open, much less oppose them. Others were actually interested
in the offer, but were not ready to oppose the Servants.
Paul had been chosen to help recruit the other groups because of his speaking skills, his
tender age and the effect he was supposed to have on other people. He never understood it, but
whenever he asked in a certain way, people wanted to help him. The next day was the first time
he was supposed to meet with the nearest group called Group Agriculture because they grew
plants in secret. The reason he had never been used before was because he had always refused
to participate, but now he had his own reason to help. His father Adam had been captured and
he hoped that he could rescue him after the battle. A cold fire burned in the pit of his stomach.
He was ready.
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The next day, he went to the headquarters of the Group Agriculture. They put armed
guards around him, with weapons taken from a robot that they had killed purely by accident.
A guard had been on duty when he had run into the robot. The robot had attacked him, but
only managed to slice open his water bottle. The robot had recoiled instantly and had seemed
almost afraid to approach. When the guard had thrown his bottle at the robot and a few drops
landed on it, by pure luck, a cluster of small metal nodules in the alarm clock had promptly
dissolved, leaving the robot dead. They figured how to make the robot’s weapons, and then
duplicated them.
They went into the hovercraft and flew to the Group Agriculture. He walked up onto the
platform, his guards surrounding him. He raised his arms, and the crowd quietened, puzzled
that they were being addressed by a 12-year-old boy. He lowered his arms and spoke. “People
of Agriculture, we are in desperate times, we have made a battle plan that can be used to turn
the tide of this war around, all we need are troops to command our weapons. Please help us
and we will be able to defeat the Servants.” He bowed his head and walked off the stage to
many nods and claps.
He was greeted by the Resistance commander, Wolfe. He said, “In all my life, I have never
heard someone get so many people to agree on something with so few words. You have an
amazing talent.”
Paul travelled from group to group convincing the people to join. They had finally
united all the groups against the Servants. The upcoming battle was inevitable, and everyone
anticipated it with both fear and excitement. As every group travelled to the stronghold of the
Servants, they made their own preparations. Technology, another group, had managed to hook
up the weapons that were to be used against the Servants to a small branch of a river. When all
the groups had gathered, they saw that the Servants had also made preparations. Cannons and
lasers had been mounted on the city walls. They could see the army of Servants preparing and
drilling. The battle approached.
The next day, Wolfe made the announcement they were waiting for. They would attack at
sunset. Everyone took their positions, and Paul was placed in a small group of guards. They
would infiltrate the base and try to rescue as many people as possible. Sunset approached and
the first of the weapons powered up. The weapons were hoses. The first hose unleashed its
cargo over the wall and was immediately greeted with many crackles and fizzes. The doors of
the fort burst open and out flooded the Servant army. Paul and his guards ran into a smaller
side door behind the fort. The guards blasted it open. They quickly had to find where the
prisoners were hidden.
As Paul and his guards ran through the streets, he noticed that they were alone. It seemed
that all the robots were outside, battling. They noticed a big building, like a jail in the centre
of the fort. They ran towards this prison. They blasted open the doors and were greeted with
a score of Servants. Luckily, they were all armed with high-pressure water pistols and quickly
dispatched them with alarm clock shots. The guards broke open the locks on the prison doors
and detached the mind repressors. The prisoners woke up as if they had just taken a nap. As
they kept freeing the prisoners, Paul looked for his father.
After about ten minutes, they heard a rumbling nose and lots of clanking heading their
way. They realised that this was the robots. They had to leave now or be overwhelmed by the
sheer number of Servants. The water hoses had done their job too well, and the Servants were
retreating. Paul, his guards and the freed prisoners quickly ran back to the side door and got
out before the robots managed to reach them. Paul was completely crushed that he had not
been able to rescue his father. They made their way back to the army where everyone was
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celebrating. The water cannons had worked extremely well and there were minimal casualties
and injuries.
As Paul stood once again on the banks of what was once the Yangtze River, he thought,
“Maybe this was a huge victory, and we are one step closer to defeating the Servants, and
rescuing my father.” He knew that the Servants would come back, better prepared. “Let them
come,” he thought, “I am ready.”
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Legend of the Yangtze River
Wong Hiu Yue, 14, St. Mark’s School
5000 BC, Fuyuan Village, Yangtze River
It was a brisk morning. Ping woke up especially early. A refreshing morning breeze gently
kissed her cheek.
“What a good day! Today is Shing’s birthday. I hope everything will be perfect.” Ping
crept out of the room and went to prepare for the big day. Ping and Shing were a poor, yet
well-known and virtuous couple. Shing was a fisherman and they barely managed to survive on
Shing’s slender earnings from the daily catch and Ping’s traditional Chinese needlework.
Ping really got fed up with such monotonous work, but she knew she must keep working
for a living. Ping picked out her workbox and started to work. She kept on weaving and
wondered about what she should give Shing for his birthday? Finally, she came up with an
idea. She decided to weave him a handkerchief.
“Run! Run!” Ping was shocked when she saw mothers carrying their babies in one hand
and holding their elder child’s hand tightly in another hand. She heard people shouting,
children yelling and babies crying. All of them seemed to be running for their lives! Ping
realised that something terrible must have happened, but what was it? What had happened?
The village was in total disarray; chaos. People were running for their lives. Babies were
crying and small kids were crying for their mothers too. The peace had gone, leaving nothing
behind but a cheerless and lonely street. Many of the houses collapsed; the entire village was
in ruins, destroyed. Villagers were homeless, and the crops they planted in their fields were
washed away by the deluge of water. It was the grim and disastrous torrent which brought such
devastation to the village. Fuyuan village was ruined.
2011, Museum of Yangtze River, China
Annikan got up in a hurry. He would be late if he stayed in bed. Today was Tuesday, and
he had to attend a meeting with Luke at the Museum of the Yangtze River. They had been
studying for a project based on the Yangtze River; one of the most important rivers in China.
“Why can’t you be punctual? You’re always late by just a couple of minutes! I don’t
understand you…”
“Alright, Luke! I know. Just change the topic!” said Annikan.
Annikan and Luke were the staff at the museum. Today was their holiday, but they were
very interested in studying the history of the Yangtze River, so they didn’t mind coming back
to their workplace to search for information.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this picture shows the beautiful scene of the Yangtze River…”
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Annikan and Luke listened to every word the guide said.
“Hey, Lukie, it’s fun to exchange roles. Now we are the tourists!” Annikan was waiting for
his buddy’s reply, but…
“Luke? Luke!”
He saw his friend picking up the description of an exhibit.
“Are you crazy? You’re damaging the exhibits! And you know very well what would
happen if you were spotted!” Annikan said agitatedly.
“Ann, can you read it? Why is there a space between those words? It seems that…”
Annikan gently rubbed the aged paper until he could just about make out the faint Chinese
character ‘成’.
“Shing?” Suddenly, the wind started to blow. The strong and unexpected wind made it
hard for them to keep their eyes open.
In a split second, the wind stopped. Everything went silent. Absolutely silent.
“Where are we?” asked Luke.
“How do I know? Wait, this place looks so…so familiar…I know! It’s Fuyuan
Village, the setting of the legend that I’ve just seen on the description! But how did
we get here?” At the same moment, Luke found a handkerchief on the ground. It also
had the character ‘成’ on it.
5000 BC, Fuyuan Village, Yangtze River
Ping quickly went to find Shing, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she saw two young
men dressed in strange costumes. Instead of traditional loose-fitting Chinese long gowns, they
are wearing short-sleeved shirts and denim jeans. One of them was holding the handkerchief
she made for Shing.
“Who are you? Why are you holding my husband’s handkerchief?” Ping asked.
“Don’t be afraid, young lady. We didn’t mean to startle you. Actually, we only arrived a
few moments ago, but we don’t know how we got here,” said one of the two young men.
Ping looked at them for a while and there was a few seconds of silence. “You look very
strange, but I believe you are not bad people. Would you like to come into my humble house
and have a cup of tea?”
So, they went to Ping’s house. “Oh yes, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Ping.”
“I am Luke and he’s my friend, Annikan,” Luke replied politely. Then, they started
chatting about what has been going on in the village.
“When I was about to go to work this morning, I heard people screaming and crying. Then
I noticed that something bad had happened. It’s the river monster! He used to live in the river.
Whenever the river flooded, we all knew that the monster was awake. It must be our fault. We
have done something wrong and it is punishing us. Oh please river monster, don’t take my
husband away! Forgive us…”
After hearing the story, Luke and Annikan felt sorry for Ping. They made up their minds
to try their best to help Ping and to save the villagers.
Under Ping’s guidance, they finally came to the riverside. Luke and Annikan were amazed
by the spectacular sight of the river. “I can’t believe that this beautiful river could bring such
damage!” said Annikan.
“You must give something to the monster in exchange for those you want to save. I am not
sure if this really works, but for Shing, I must give it a try. Okay, when I count to three, you
throw the rope and I will bring along the handkerchief and jump into the river. If I don’t show
up, you must leave me and go,” Ping explained briefly.
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“But Ping…”
“Don’t worry too much. Ready? I’ll go now.”
Luke and Annikan waited and waited, but they still couldn’t see the shadow of Ping.
They finally decided to leave in despair. Suddenly, they felt the rope tremble. They turned
back to look… Hurray! It was Ping, together with Shing. They had made it!
“I really don’t know what to say except thank you,” said Ping gratefully.
“We’ve only done what we could,” said Luke and Annikan.
To celebrate this good news, Ping invited Luke and Annikan to stay for the night.
“For Shing’s return. Cheers!”
As they were drinking the wine, Luke felt a bit dizzy. A strong wind blew, and soon both
of them fell asleep.
2011, Museum of Yangtze River, China
“Where are we?” asked Annikan.
“I think we’re back. Back to reality,” said Luke.
“How about Ping and Shing? Are they alright?” asked Luke.
“We will never know. Come on, buddy, let’s start working.”
They started to search for the information about the Yangtze River.
Luke took out a pile of notes. He then suddenly saw a small handkerchief between the
dusty notes. It was covered in dust too. It was a tender story about how a devoted wife saved
her husband’s life. “Hey! Annikan! Come and see! The story is so familiar! It seems that it
is…” Luke called Annikan.
“Yeah! It is exactly what happened in the Fuyuan Village!” Annikan answered.
They were both puzzled about the abrupt surprise, but they believed it was a gift from
Ping, which reminded them of this legend of the Yangtze River.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Risk-takers on an Adventure
Anna D’Souza Melitta, 16, St. Margaret’s Girls’ College, Hong Kong
O
nce upon a time, in a faraway land called China, lay a very mysterious river, the
Yangtze River. In the ancient myths, it was said that a lot of miraculous things
happened around that river.
The Yangtze River flows through a lot of provinces, one being Qinghai. In Qinghai, on one
of the highest mountains, lived the Fu family, consisting of five members, the grandmother, the
father, the mother and the twin brothers. They were very poor. However, they had always been
a happy family.
The boys had never seen the Yangtze River, as it was far and they didn’t have enough
money to take a rickshaw.
One night, Jason and Jackson asked, “Mom, could we please go to the Yangtze River
tomorrow? We’ve heard of so many interesting tales and miraculous events taking place there!
We’ve also got to go there and pray for dad, so that he may recover from pancreatic cancer.”
“No! You cannot go there. Do you know how many people go missing after going there?
It’s a very dangerous place. Why can’t you boys understand that?” Mary yelled. “And as for
your father, we are trying our best. We might not have the money but we are praying for him
and doing everything we can. Please boys just trust in God! He’ll help us.” Mary explained.
“Yes, mom we understand and we are really sorry.” the boys apologised. “Very well then,
you boys better go give your dad his medicine, wish everyone a goodnight, say your prayers
and go to bed,” their mom told them. Jason and Jackson did as they were told and settled down
on the floor and went to sleep.
That night, once everyone was asleep, Jackson started nudging Jason. “Jason, wake up!
Jason, wake up! I’ve got an idea!” “What Jackson ... I’m tired,” Jason said sleepily. “Please just
wake up and don’t make any noise. Everyone’s asleep. I’ve got a plan,” Jackson said quietly.
“Alright, I’m up, but this better be quick,” Jason said. The two boys went out of the house to
have a little chat where no one could hear them.
“Okay Jason, I know mom said no but we’ve got to go to the Yangtze River. We’ve
got to help our dad. It may be dangerous but we’ve got to take the risk for him.” Jackson
explained. “I guess you’re right. We can’t just let him die! Besides I don’t mind a little
adventure,” Jason agreed.
The next morning, the boys decided to tell their mom that they were going to their friends’
house for the day. They said they wanted a break to chill with their friends and to their
surprise, their mom agreed. However, “I need you boys to be back before supper,” she said.
“Sure mom, no problem. You can count on us,” the boys replied jollily.
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The boys then started packing things they thought they might need for their journey. They
packed two bottles of water, a container and a rope. “I’m so excited,” Jackson yelled with joy.
“Me too, but I still feel bad that we’re lying,” Jason said with a grin. “It’s okay! We’re doing it
for a good cause,” Jackson replied.
Jason and Jackson made their journey to the Yangtze River on foot. They left the house in
the morning. They decided to jog halfway in order to get there faster. Along the way, they got
to explore the village as well. They saw people they had never seen before and waved at and
greeted everyone, including the animals. They got lost a couple of times but they always found
people who were helpful enough to lead them back on the right track.
However, every time they asked for directions to the Yangtze River, the villagers always
gave them strange looks and warned them not to go there. After having a few villagers
repeat the same thing, the boys started getting worried, especially when the villagers said
that people who went to the Yangtze River rarely came back. However, the boys tried their
best to stay strong for each other. They were still motivated to get to their destination and
find a cure.
Finally at around three o’clock, the boys reached the river. “Oh my goodness, that is pure
beauty,” Jason said, amazed. “Yup, it’s truly beautiful, but where do we start looking for the
cure? It looks like there’s just water and grass. Nothing else,” Jackson replied. The water in the
Yangtze River was rushing down quickly. The tides were high but it didn’t seem to bother the
boys. Jason was standing on the edge of the river, trying to look for something that could lead
him to the cure needed for his father. Meanwhile, Jackson was looking around, trying to pick
up clues when, out of the blue, “Crakk, Crackk, Crackkoo!” they heard a sound, and then came
crows from nowhere and pushed Jason into the river. Jackson began yelling, “Jason, hang on!
I’m coming! Please hold on to something,” White terror had risen in Jackson’s eyes when he
saw a crocodile approaching his brother. “Jason, let go and swim! Grab something else! There’s
a crocodile!” Jackson cried.
Jackson then quickly grabbed his rope from his bag and threw it to his brother and yelled,
“Catch!” However, the crocodile caught the rope and pulled so hard that Jackson fell into the
river as well. Now both the brothers were in a life-and-death situation with the crocodile on
their tail. Jackson finally grabbed a tree branch with one hand and grabbed his brother with the
other. But the crocodile was still there. “Ahhh! Help! Help!” yelled the two boys.
Suddenly, Jason spotted a small hole in the side of the river. The water wasn’t really
flowing into it. “Jackson, we’ve got to get into that hole,” Jason yelled. “No, that’s too risky, we
don’t know where it leads to, and whether we can fit into it,” Jackson cried. “But it’s our only
option. It’s either that or we’re going to be eaten by the crocodile. C’mon, we’ve got to keep our
faith in God,” Jason cried. Both the brothers finally agreed that getting into that hole might be
their only way to escape from the crocodile.
Jackson got into the hole first and before the crocodile could grab his brother with its
mouth, he pulled his brother in as well. Once both of them were in the hole, they were no
longer wet since the water couldn’t get in. It was truly a miracle. The crocodile tried to get
into the hole as well but was unsuccessful. The water then pushed it forward and it flowed
downriver. The boys took a deep sigh of relief and once the crocodile was out of sight, they
decided to get out of the hole, but, “Jackson, I can’t get out! I think we’re stuck! There is a
weird type of shield and I can’t push through it!” yelled Jason.
Suddenly, the hole expanded and the boys fell further into the hole and like a hypnotizing
dream they were twirling and twirling, screaming and crying and finally with a loud clang they
both landed on the ground.
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When they gained consciousness, they realised they were in a place they had never seen
before. “Where are we?” cried Jackson. “I don’t know! Some sort of desert I’m guessing,” Jason
responded. “Craw! Craw!” came the sound again and they saw crows in the sky and began to
run for their lives. They ran as fast as they could until finally they saw an odd tree in the desert.
Luckily, it was a tree house. They quickly opened the door and got into the house. They shut
the door as fast as they could and took-took-took came the sounds of the crows banging against
the door. Taking large huffs and puffs, the boys finally settled down with horrified looks on
their faces.
“Well hello there, young ones,” said an old women. “Ahhh! Who are you?” the boys yelled.
“Welcome to my tree house. I’m Natalie Lee, the owner of this house.” “Where are we? And
how do we get out of here?” asked the boys. “I’m sorry but I don’t think I know the answer to
that question, young ones. I’ve been trapped here for the last five years myself and I haven’t
found a way out either. I can’t even contact my family back at the village,” she said solemnly.
“OMG … are you Natalie Lee, the one that went missing and never returned?” Jason
questioned. “I suppose that’s probably me,” she responded. “But besides me, there are several
other people here from the village who you might recognise. I would request you to live
with me for the rest of your lives because I’m sure you won’t be able to get out, and if you go
searching for clues you might come across CHERNOBOG!” she said with a scared look on
her face.
“Chernobog? Who’s he? We’ve got to get out of here. Our parents would be worried and
we promised our mom we’d be back before supper,” the boys said with worried looks on their
faces. “Chernobog is the ruler of Choimania, this place. He is pure evil. He has made the rest
of the missing villagers his slaves and the ones who do not obey him are crucified and fed to
his crocodiles and lions,” she said with fear.
“But you’re not one of his slaves, how is that so?” the boys asked. “I’ve been hiding here in
this tree house for the past five years and none of his slaves or soldiers have been able to find
me. I don’t even think they know I exist and I would really want it to remain that way, which is
why I recommend that the two of you to join me and stay here, where you guys will be safe,”
she said reassuringly.
“No way! We came all this way to look for a cure for our dad and we aren’t staying
anywhere. We are going to get that cure and return home safely to rescue our dad,” the boys
said. “You boys are crazy you’ll get yourselves killed! You’re making the wrong choice,”
Natalie said angrily. “We’re sorry Ms Natalie, but our dad has taken a lot of risks and pain
for us since birth and we’ve got to do the best we can to give him back all that he’s given us.
Besides, we can’t bear to lose our dad, have a broken family, our mom a widow,” the boys said,
in tears.
“I suppose I can understand what you boys must be going through. But, please, before you
guys leave, take my map, some tools and food. You will definitely need it on your journey,”
Natalie said. “We can’t thank you enough, Natalie,” the boys replied. They took the map and
the other stuff and got ready for their journey.
The boys headed towards the north, where the centre of Choimania was located. It was
almost dark and they started to worry about their parents and what they promised their mother.
However, they had to forget it. They had to figure out what their next step would be. They saw
slaves being bashed by weird-looking creatures that were half human and half pterodactyl,
which is a dinosaur bird. They had human faces shaped like pterodactyls, with hands and legs,
humungous wings and long tails. The boys recognised a lot of the slaves as missing people
from the village.
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But what really caught the boys’ attention was a tall mountain. It didn’t look like an
ordinary mountain. Instead of being covered in grass, it was covered in gold and there seemed
to be a water spring all the way at the top of the mountain. However, there were dozens of
those creature servants guarding the water spring. The boys were wondering why there were
so many of those slaves up there when, “Hello there…” came the voice of an ant that wasn’t
very tiny. “Whoa! You can talk...?” Jason stared at it in shock. “Well of course I can, you little
nutcracker! What you boys are staring at is the magical water spring,” the ant replied. “Oh
Jackson … that’s it! That’s what we need to heal our dad. C’mon! Let’s go get it.” Jason yelled.
“Hold on, you little tiger! It’s impossible to get there. Not with all of them there. Besides,
anyone who touches that water will be crucified,” explained the ant.
Seconds later the sound of trumpets was heard and they were unbearably loud. The boys
and the ant put their hands on their ears. “Presenting His Royal Highness Chernobog!” Just
like his slaves, he was also a hybrid. He was a mixture of a dragon and a tyrannosaurus. He
looked like the evilest thing alive. He started walking towards his throne and everyone bowed
down to him forcefully.
“We’ve got to put an end to this,” Jackson told Jason. “Agreed. We keep our faith in God,
not a monster resembling Satan,” Jason replied. “Hmmmm … but what are we gonna do?
There’s so many of them and only two of us,” Jason asked. “Make that three,” the ant said.
“Really? Thanks Mr ... ermm?” Jackson said. “Mr Ching,” the ant replied.
“Anyway, I’ve got an idea. There is a secret sword all the way south of Choimania. It’s
the one and only sword that can kill Chernobog. Legend says that a mighty wizard blessed
the sword and with that blessing, the sword can kill Chernobog. However, it is believed that
the sword can only be used once every ten years and can only be plunged into his body once.
Therefore, the aim must be accurate. Once every ten years, the sword somehow retrieves its
blessings and strength and is able to kill the demon. However, up till now no one has had
the courage to go against Chernobog. Everyone was too frightened of the consequences. I’m
proud of you, having the courage to fight this battle. However we can’t do this alone. I’ve got
some friends in the south who want to battle him as well,” Mr Ching said. “That’s great!” the
boys replied.
Immediately, the boys and Mr Ching headed towards the south, and into this cave where
the sword was kept. You could see the flaming spiritual power it had around it and once it was
lifted, the person itself could feel the power of the sword. That night, the boys met Mr Ching’s
friends and they were told all about the plan. It took a couple of days for the boys to learn how
to fight. The ants trained them.
Back at the village in Qinghai, their parents had been worried sick. Their grandma
complained to the police about her missing grandsons, as it had been a week. The mom
went up to each and every one of the boys’ friends’ houses to see if she could find them. But
wherever she went, there was no sign of them. Until they both decided to head in the direction
of the Yangtze River. Villagers told them that they had seen the boys go there. The mom and
grandma were shell-shocked. They couldn’t find the boys and the villagers guessed that they
were probably missing like the others and wouldn’t return.
In Choimania, they were prepared for the battle. The boys trained hard and were getting
the hang of kung fu. They decided to attack at night while Chernobog was sleeping. They
made special armour to protect themselves and weapons to kill the half-human and halfpterodactyl creatures.
On the ninth day, they decided to attack. They had an army of 20. They attacked quietly. It
was hard to kill the half-human and half-pterodactyl creatures. They were successful until one
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of those creatures saw them. He quickly set off the alarm and that woke the whole Choimania.
Jason had the special sword and made his way into the castle, where Chernobog was. Chernobog
woke up and so did all the slaves. The creatures were starting to rip those ants apart. The slaves
watched and were amazed by their bravery. Immediately all of them picked up some tools and
joined the remaining ants in killing. It was a complete bloodshed in Choimania by the time the
sun rose. People, ants as well as those creatures were dying. Chernobog made his way out and
started blowing fire. He then saw Jackson and tried to kill him.
Jackson quickly grabbed a rope and swung around Chernobog, trying to distract him. With
one enormous pull, Jackson lifted Jason from the back and threw him towards Chernobog,
stabbing the sword into his rib. At that moment, everyone was shocked and couldn’t move. They
just stared. However, Chernobog didn’t die. He was laughing. There wasn’t even any blood.
Jason was hanging onto the tip of the sword. “Push it through his heart!” yelled Mr Ching.
“Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!” roared Chernobog. But with one swing, Jason pushed
the sword in at a slanted angle and chok! – it went right through his heart. He began to fall and
slowly he died. Along with him, the half-human and half-pterodactyl creatures died as well and
turned into dust. The slaves rejoiced and praised the boys and the ants for their bravery.
Everyone then got containers and filled them up with the water from the water spring.
Suddenly, a porthole opened up – a porthole that led back to the village. The boys made sure
everyone got into the porthole, including Natalie Lee.
The villagers of Qinghai were overjoyed to see their loved ones return. The boys were
praised and the whole village was proud of them, including their family, and because of them,
their father was healed and their family was no longer poor.
Everyone had a happy ending except for the evil ones, of course.
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The Bard of the Yangtze
Chim Wung Cheong, 16, Shatin Tsung Tsin Secondary School
A
nightingale chirped a musical note, from afar or near no human could tell. Distinct
and close, another voice replied – all at once, the unintended unison, the undirected
orchestra. A hundred souls, a hundred throats, all at once below the benign moon’s
quiet smile.
A soft breeze blew, startling a million leaves, a deep resonating rustle of life, gradually
fading and falling, a diminuendo off the trembling strings of violins. Wind, the guide swept
invisible arcs in air and bows obliged, sliding on strings; imaginary wolves sombrely followed,
their howling mouths hollowed; birds of the night joyously chorused, the great choir of the
trees on shore. The crescent of fruit-bearing summer cast her silk cloak woven of serenity and
rapture and adorned with diamonds and stars upon mortality’s realm. The musky earth sang
and her residents also, at their own rhythms and pleasures.
The steadily beating motor of the yacht almost seemed silent under the resplendent
symphony of the unblemished lands of the Yangtze River. The slender figure of an adolescent
girl stood upon its deck, her unstyled hair flowing, carried by the tender arms of wind, her
heart fluttering at such sensational delights filling the channels of her ears. There around her
was a silver aura, so fair, so brilliant that she ceased to resemble a person under it, but a nymph
of the country.
Within the gentle strokes that caressed the white hull of her sailboat were history and
time, the river herself wizened with age and countless millennia beyond the counting fingers
of humanity. Wendy Marvell had come seeking the ancient angels that roamed these waters,
the beauteous dolphins now rumoured to be the kindest blessing to be bestowed upon any who
caught a glimpse of them.
Yet here she was, utterly mesmerized by the scene she found herself in, her objective
forgotten and abandoned. Wherever be her curious glance laid, she discovered such gifts nature
had set in her alcoves and caves, atop imposing cliffs and jagged rocks. Each second a new
surprise would come knocking on the door of her mind, shocking her … What joy! What a
sight to relish in!
“Hey, Dave! Come and check this out!” she called to her companion in an earnest voice,
but Dave was too deep down in the abyss of his slumber to hear her.
Wendy shook her head in mild disappointment and turned her dreamy gaze to the
borderless sky, shutting her hazel eyes in comfort and perfect harmony with the world that
surrounded her. My paradise, my heaven this is, she mused in blissful contentment.
Abruptly a peculiar feeling crossed her soul, sending a dreadful shiver up her spine.
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Wendy’s eyes flew wide open and saw on the cloudless expanse of black a twisting form. A
snake! A snake that materialized out of the thin air! It twitched its scaled tail, swinging back
and forth, as though it was a thin ribbon endowed with life, all alone, moving, dancing of its
own accord.
It was a dragon.
She gasped and gaped, her mouth round in a comically round circle. Astonishment had
knocked sanity out of her and her chin was still hanging off her head when the legendary beast
vanished behind a dense mist of clouds.
After several blank moments, she blinked as consciousness returned. A frightful shiver
ran through her flesh and bones, startling every last inch of her fibres. Her encounter with a
supposedly fictional creature far exceeded her anticipations, and for some uncanny reason,
despite how amazing the experience had been, it left her with more fear that this was an ill
omen than awe.
Then, she heard it, a sorrowful song that emerged from everywhere and nowhere, from the
stirring stream, from the tall, sweeping willows, from whispering leaves and even the sky’s
benevolent grin.
Oh, you elder Dragon of Yangtze,
So ancient and riddled with age,
I wonder what tragedies has his old eyes seen,
That renders him the wisest of all sages?
Instantly she beheld him, hovering on the river … oh no, he was merely sitting and singing
aloud in a tiny wooden boat, approaching her, filled with mirth and merriment, with music
bouncing off the tip of his tongue. He drew up to her yacht and ascended to the deck with such
grace not granted to men. He was donned elegantly in a set of oriental robes, brimmed pale
gold around folds against blue. The sleeves were not as obscenely long as Wendy had seen in
movies and documentaries.
“Who are you?” she asked cautiously in Chinese, immediately wary of the stranger in
odd attire.
“Call me the Bard,” he answered with a calm smile, quite unaware of her risen alert levels.
“The Bard,” repeated Wendy in a thoughtful murmur, her head bowed in thought, chewing
on each letter, pondering over the implications of the name. Doesn’t sound like the name of
some evil bandit though, she concluded finally.
“I know what you seek and trust me if you will, you’ll not find them here,” the Bard
interrupted her contemplations with an intriguing sentence. She instantly looked up to stare
at the man, her voice gruff as she attempted to bring a formidable tinge to her normally
childish timbre.
“Then what exactly is it that I seek?” she assumed the role of an interrogator and propped
herself onto a raised platform so that she could add some height to herself and her position over
her subject.
“The dolphins of Yangtze,” he replied without the slightest hint of being intimidated, “All
that filth and toxins humans have poured into the River have long driven those poor water-elves
away, from here and many other places. Surely, you can’t expect yourself to find any here.”
Wendy’s mouth fell open but then she snapped it shut firmly again: she had not known.
She could not believe the torrents under her feet were in truth overflowing with industrial
slime and grease. Desperately searching for reassurances to her theory, she spun around wildly
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and aimlessly, her eyes darting rapidly, from here, to there and there. No, all had seemed so
peaceful, so unspoiled! All at once, she dared not trust her vision, her sense of smell or her
hearing. As the delusions of emerald jades and nature’s best gemstones shattered to a thousand
fragments, what horror that filled her horizon!
There were fallen trees and trunks floating in the pungent, reeking river. The river was
defiled and discoloured to a ghastly shade of brown. Quite frequently, she spotted a hideous
patch of darkness atop the howling, rushing waters, leaked oils and corrosive chemicals. A
horrendous stench arose, the scent of a decaying world had overwhelmed her feeble senses. She
stood powerless on the brink of fainting under the fury of the truth pounding upon her mind
and soul. She swayed where she stood, strength drained from her knees and, with a horrified
yelp, she collapsed to the floor.
Just as she did, the nightmare faded, yielded to reality and once more she sat on the lap of
the generous Mother Nature, glancing up into her warm, mollifying smile, yet the agonising
revelation was upon her: Such fairness would not last long and all that she had foreseen would
come true. Mother Nature’s smile broadened to a knowing one and she nodded.
Wendy turned to the Bard, now a self-satisfied man, with imploring eyes and pleaded in
supplication, “Please, would you please take me to the dolphins before the storm takes them too?”
***
She knew not how far they had ventured down the mystic length of the river. Ever since
they climbed into the Bard’s cramped, primitive boat, they had been shooting down the foamy
rapids, hurling their lives into the hands of fate and praying one random wave would not plunge
them both into the lightless depths. Wendy was particularly mortified when she realised how
dangerous the wrath of the Yangtze actually was, because aboard her yacht, everything seemed
to split so easily before its steel hulk. She began regretting her choice of following the Bard
who, unlike her, must have gotten used to a life on turbulent waters and was now singing, yet
again, this time, a cheery tune.
Little dolphins, you lovely beasts,
How your fortune arouses envy in me!
This lady you summoned from across the sea,
Has nothing else but you to see!
The blind animosity of the river tossed them high and metres above. Bolts of water
splashed in, slicing splendid trajectories in the humid air, splattering on her cheeks. She felt
terribly vulnerable against the unreserved, unleashed might of the Yangtze, raging all around
her, threatening to engulf them, confining their skeletons eternally to its mud floor, waging its
unbearable retribution on humanity once and for all.
Wendy could almost hear its anguished growl, its accusations, “Humans! Do you recall
how I have nourished you with my own body? How I have allowed you to drink from my
fluids? How I have moistened your lips when you pathetically crawled on dry barrens? You sly
villains, how have you repaid me? You forced me to drink poison, all the wasteful debris you
have no use for! Am I nothing but your latrine in the backyard? Die, you malevolent monsters,
and suffer my vengeance!”
Suppressing a tremor, biting down on shaking animal fears, she mustered what calmness
was still within her possession and shouted over the deafening roars, “Are we there yet, Mister
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Bard? Shouldn’t I be returning to my ship? I don’t like the thought of leaving Dave behind!”
Brandishing her friend’s name as her excuse, she flung around this glamorous banner, yelling
one slogan that could not have been more apparent, “Let me go!”
Instead of any ordinary response in the human sense, the Bard lived up to his romanticized
name, uttering yet another ballad:
Come, worry not about your friend,
For the treasure lies far, near the end.
Your journey home shall be swift with ease,
In no time you shall find yourself on Safety’s knees.
Friend, if you chase the shadows of old,*
You must venture boldly into their tempest hold,
Fear not the phantoms you fearfully see,
For ancient beauties of Yangtze you soon shall see.
Wendy fell silent, sensing mockery in the Bard’s latest invention of poetry. “But why
shouldn’t I be scared?” she mumbled, disgruntled. Frankly, doubt was starting to bubble up in
her sceptical mind. She could not help but wonder: do the dolphins really live here? It did not
seem probable to her that the intelligent mammals would dwell in this hazardous region.
With no prior warning, everything ceased, halted as though by divine interference. They
had stopped in the middle of some of the deepest and most unfathomable part of the river.
There was no sound, no majestic current, and with an awkward blush, she realised she had
been pronouncing her meditations aloud. Not at all perturbed by her open inquisition of his
knowledge, the Bard dipped a hand into the still water surface, disturbing and setting off
numerous ripples.
O’ Dolphins, you adored sons of the Yangtze,
You have drifted in darkness from living eyes,
Long have you lived in fear of mortal blight.
Now hear me, hear me, and take no flight!
We mean you nothing but the benign,
Come forth from your sacred hold,
Your profound beauty let us behold.
Suddenly, gray gleaming fins erupted all over the mirror surface, swimming, tracing out a
miraculous oval. They were not the scimitar blades of sharks with bleak, lethal points, striking
insanity into the hearts of all who saw them, but tiny triangles, a dozen of them, forming a
perfect shape, slowly rotating, closing in, a soundless glissando.
Soon their glistening bodies surfaced, seamlessly smooth and capturing the silver beams
of moonlight so that they radiated brightly at night. Wendy saw genuine, undisguised delight
in the mischievously glittering eyes of dolphins, as they leapt out. The corners of their mouths
were somehow upturned in the likeness of a grin, gaily embracing all who arrived on their
doorstep. And for such atrocities we have committed on their habitat, she grieved for the
* Shadows of old: Yangtze River Dolphins are known to have swum the waters of Yangtze for millennia, thus gaining
the name “living fossils”. Here, the Bard is referring to the ancient Yangtze River Dolphins.
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endless torment these angels were jinxed with and sighed in futile guilt, they greet us like
honourable guests.
She felt a timid tickle on the back of her hand, turning towards the source, a bittersweet
smile spreading on her lips. So akin to a child trying to please his parents, a toddler dolphin
was gently nibbling at her hand, its eager eyes lit alive with innocence and affection, two lively
black dots meeting her hazel ones. If only it knew she was a member of the kin that caused
the slaughter of its race, if only it knew, it would have assaulted her in reprisal for its brethren,
however young it was. Yet, no, they knew nothing, absolutely nothing…She felt unworthy,
corrupted in their presence.
Spinning to the Bard with a surge of appreciation, she found herself staring into an
empty spot. The peculiar feeling had returned to her again but this time she did not glance
up. Oh, you elder Dragon of Yangtze, she recollected from the shrapnel of memories and with
recognition, her eyes shot up to the dragon, to the Yangtze.
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The River
Constance Chan Yan Chuen, 16, Belilios Public School
A
man rushed to the school building on a cold autumn morning. He had forgotten his
students’ work and wanted to retrieve them so he could mark their papers during the
long and cold weekend. Unaware of his partially opened briefcase, a piece of paper
slipped out.
Wind blew harshly against the people on the street. Clutching their coats tighter, they
hurried to their destination. An updraft blew the paper high into the sky. The man continued
towards the school in haste, hoping to return to his cosy home quickly.
Oblivious to the citizens in the quaint town, a foreign fighter plane zoomed above. The
pilot aimed carefully, and pulled the lever. The first bomb dropped on to the city below.
Colliding with the paper and smashing it into smithereens, the ominous object continued its
descent upon the unprepared city.
***
Kang sighed deeply as he sank into his chair. Munching on his pencil, he stared blankly at
the paper in front of him, racking his head for ideas.
The Yangtze. What kind of a topic was that? The stupid river outside wasn’t special. But
Kang never dared to say it aloud. His grandmother would rave about the history of China, how
the Yangtze protected the inlands from foreign invasion. Kang, despite all his grandmother’s
stories, couldn’t see how the river was special.
For three hours he sat as the clock ticked away. Kang tapped his pencil annoyingly on the
desk and propped his head up with his hand. He blankly gazed outside, at the subject of his
composition. Up ahead, a dark cloud loomed. Kang didn’t notice.
“The Yangtze is one of the two cradles of our civilisation. The river offers protection.”
Inspiration hit him like a freight train. In his mind, the words strung together to form sentences,
the sentences wove to form paragraphs, and the paragraphs consequently forming a beautiful essay.
Kang scribbled away furiously, as he hiked up his long linen pants to soothe an itch on his
calf. Only the scratching of pencil on paper was heard. The ten-year-old boy, with trademark
Chinese white porcelain skin and round brown eyes, immersed himself fully in his own small
world of perfection, full of bliss and laughter, only existing inside a young child with the world
waiting for his discovery.
Satisfied with his work, Kang put away his paper and went downstairs to join his family
for tea.
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His father skimmed the newspaper, while his mother and grandmother sipped their
tea daintily.
As Kang sat, his father lowered the paper and sighed. Worry graced his features and his
tired eyes turned sad. Kang’s mother poured some tea for Kang and refilled the other cups. She
noticed Father’s distressed appearance and grew worried.
“What’s the matter?” Mother addressed Father, while arranging snacks on the table. Father
shook his head with sorrow, reluctant to answer.
“A war is coming soon.”
A cry of lament escaped Grandmother. Kang grew alarmed. He knew that his country
was in turmoil and hadn’t had peace for a while. He thought himself very fortunate to not have
lived through the horrors of foreign invasions; the revolution, and the warlords. He knew there
had been peace for a while. But now there was a war. Kang couldn’t even understand how a
war started.
“It wouldn’t hold out long, it’s a matter of days.”
The adults grew quiet, understanding the situation. Kang was left in the dark, protected
from the inevitable disaster that was to come.
Miles away, a city was making preparations. Generals were busy counting supplies.
Military leaders were busy analysing the map, marking important conquests crucial to their
domination. In the airport, aircrafts were given last minute checkups while flying crews were
given a last minute rundown of the strategic invasion. The ships at dock were loaded with
weapons and machinery, the navy in a hustle to ensure that everything was organised.
***
Teacher Ming locked the door and hurried out, facing the harsh cruel wind. If he hadn’t
forgotten his students’ assignments, he would be in his cosy home, wearing comfortable clothes
and grading papers while sipping hot tea.
He rushed, in hopes for a quick return, leaving his briefcase unzipped. As he dashed
towards the school building, braving the cold wind, a slip of paper fell out of his bag. A gush
of cold breeze blew; Teacher Ming shivered and wrapped his coat more tightly around himself.
Other neighbours hunched over, walking briskly, wanting to get out of the cold.
An updraft lifted the slip up high into the sky. It flitted and fluttered, just a tiny white
speck on the horizon. But it wasn’t the only dot. Gradually, dark spots appeared, zooming at
high speed.
A fighter plane surveyed the town below, calculating his targets, aiming at important
structures. The pilot squinted, before eyeing his target. He tugged the lever and the first bomb
made its descent.
The wind blew as the paper began to flutter, meeting the dark object. The bomb smashed
the paper into smithereens.
More planes dotted the sky, each selecting its own victim before releasing the destructive
weapon. A sharp whistle broke the citizens out of their reverie. As the bomb drew closer, many
started to panic, running in all directions seeking cover.
Teacher Ming froze and looked up just as a huge impact flung him backwards. His body
flew into the air like a rag doll.
***
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Mother counted the coins carefully. They couldn’t afford to waste money during harsh
times. Food was scarce, and she was forced to watch helplessly as Grandmother slowly
withered. Mother, herself, was slowly growing weak.
Kang stood patiently by his mother, listening intently to her instructions. He knew the
importance of this trip. It secured their food for the next few weeks.
“Remember, don’t attract attention. Go quickly and quietly. Be safe and look out.”
Kang nodded, reassuring his mother. He swiped his face with coal, to divert the attention
of the Japanese from himself.
“May I go with Xiao?” He was deathly afraid to go out on his own. The rifles and swords,
boots and soldiers scared him immensely. Mother nodded. Kang smiled slightly before slipping
out the door.
Trepidation filled him as he headed towards his best friend’s house, somehow he felt
uneasy. Kang pushed the dread to the back of his mind, determined to focus on his task. He
knocked quietly on Xiao’s door and waited. She slipped out, wearing a plain shirt and pants.
“The market?” Kang asked, praying that she would go with him. Xiao thought for awhile
before nodding, taking his hand.
The two strolled down to the market, chatting softly. To their surprise, a small crowd met
their eyes, though gone was the usual din. Everyone performed their task soundlessly.
A false sense of security settled over the young children, and they visibly relaxed under the
quiet atmosphere. Flitting from stall to stall, Kang purchased food and necessities with Xiao’s
help, slipping items into his sack.
With their job nearly done, Kang decided to have a little fun, and started to tickle his
friend, just under her ribs where the ticklish spot lay. Xiao doubled with gay laughter. Her bony
hands clutched her sides as she gasped for breathe. Kang couldn’t help chuckling. He looked at
Xiao mischievously. Her eyes widened with shock and disbelief. Giving him a mock glare, she
slowly backed away, her small body colliding into a hard chest.
Xiao whirled around and met the eyes of the town chief. She gulped at the menacing glare.
The Japanese collaborator growled.
“Why, you little b–”
Without waiting for him to finish, Kang snatched his friend’s hand and hauled her behind
him as he ran weaving through the thin crowd. His worn out shoes did nothing to protect his
feet, tiny pebbles and stones dug their way into his delicate soles.
Loud cursing and heavy pounding feet trailed them, attracting attention in the market.
Kang and Xiao glanced behind them and saw the burly man running towards them, eyes
blazing and fists clenched tightly. They gulped.
Ducking and dodging as they ran past stalls and people, they gasped for breath as their
feet continuously collided with the dirt ground. The bag of food was lost during the confusion.
Their lungs burned for air, hearts pounding violently against their chests, heads spinning
delirious with fright. Xiao’s grip loosened and started slipping from Kang’s grasp.
He turned and glanced at his friend’s frighteningly gaunt frame and wondered how long
she could hold up with the chase before collapsing. They both were weak from starvation.
Glancing around frantically, he searched for a place to hide. In their rush, they had run in
the opposite direction, entering the most dangerous part of the city, where the Japanese soldiers
concentrated. The thumping of feet steadily neared and didn’t seem to lighten.
The heavy footsteps grew louder and quicker by the minute. Without another thought,
Kang yanked Xiao along with him and dashed down the street. He headed for an alley, hoping
to slip in unnoticed and wait for their pursuer to lose their tail.
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A sharp glisten of metal in the distance caught Kang’s eyes. He froze and Xiao halted
behind him, her breathing quickened, nearing hyperventilation.
Ahead, the tips of two sharp points elongated, transforming into a long spear. The bayonets
shimmered in the distance, flashing as they reflected the sun. The two Japanese soldiers
strolled down the path with a fierce synchronized march. Dark green shirts tucked smartly into
black polished belts, pants free of wrinkles and black polished boots, shimmering in the light,
casting a glow.
“Oh God,” Kang cursed beneath his breath. Xiao held his hand in a death grip, shaking
with terror. His knees weakened and buckled, trembling from fear.
“Calm down Xiao,” Kang whispered, himself trying to contain his own fright.
Xiao tried to relax to no avail. They slowed to a walk as they neared the Japanese, hoping
and praying to appear unsuspicious. The strength in their legs melted away with each step, until
they feebly ambled along. Kang’s heart rattled against his chest, the furious beating echoed
loudly in his ears.
Gravel crunched as the soldiers neared. Xiao dipped her head and bowed with Kang
following suit, their hands clammy with sweat and quivering as they stood stock still, waiting
for the soldiers to pass by.
Not daring to raise their heads until the thumping of boots became nothing but a distant
whisper, Kang quickly bolted for the alley. Diving head first into a pile of sacks, Xiao
clambered in behind him and covered themselves, listening to their surroundings. Huddling
close together, they sat in the dark. Rays of light filtered in from the cracks between the bags
offering weak light. Kang brought his legs close to his chest and hugged them tightly. He rested
his head on his knees and closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by the quiet breathing.
Bright rays flooded into the tiny hiding place. Kang blinked his eyes open and squinted,
not used to so much light. He let out a silent scream, as he noticed a tall dark shadow towering
over them. Xiao clutched his shirt, nails digging into his flesh.
All at once, terror gripped the young children, encasing their bodies pushing out every
inferior emotion until it was all they felt. The man’s big long teeth protruded, covering the
entire bottom row. His hungry stare and eerie smile was of a starved man, drinking in the sight
of a bountiful feast.
“Well, well.” The man gave a huge grin, “Food for me at last!”
Kang glared at him, “We’re flesh and blood. You wouldn’t hurt your own people.” Xiao
nodded enthusiastically in agreement.
The man pondered the boy’s words for a while, before breaking into a sinister smile. “Oh,
but I would, wouldn’t I?”
The children shrieked and sank back into the wall, wishing with all their might that it
would open and swallow them whole. The man grabbed their arms with his grimy hands,
hauling them out of their refuge and dragged them out into the street.
Xiao tripped over her feet as she tried to keep up with his pace. The man, disgusted threw
her down and she rolled to a stop, in front of a shiny pair of boots. Kang wrestled furiously,
trying to get out of the man’s grasp but his grip only tightened, until Kang was sure that bruises
would certainly form.
The Japanese soldier looked at Xiao with a calculative stare. His eyes roamed her frame.
Furrowing his brows, he stroked his bayonet.
“Too thin.”
He swung his bayonet, slicing into Xiao’s thigh. The angry red gash appearing on the dirty
flesh started to run, forming a bloody red trail. Xiao bit back a scream of pain.
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The man frowned and thrust Kang to the soldier. The Japanese dug into his pocket and
produced a few coins. The man shrugged and left without a glance.
“Koushin. March!” The soldier barked, yanking Xiao to her feet. She hobbled, putting her
weight on the good leg. He grabbed Kang, his hand forming iron shackles around his wrist.
Xiao shuddered slightly as she felt the cold metal of the rifle digging into her back, pushing her
into a forceful march.
The street was deserted. A ghost of what it was a few weeks ago. Houses were in shambles,
destroyed by the war. Rubble lay everywhere, and the buildings were reduced to skeletons. Not
a soul was on the street. No birds chirped; no insect dared to crawl out. The sky was bleak and
the trees bent their heads, resigned.
The soldier led them to the headquarters, transformed from a local police station.
Instead of entering, the soldier pushed Xiao and Kang into the ranks of other captured
victims, filing into two columns. Two guards watched them, with an intimidating glare,
daring the victims to try something. The soldier conversed with his other comrades in
what was gibberish to Kang, their words running on and on, rambling nonsense. A murmur
rippled through the crowd.
“They plan on taking us to the river.”
Kang and Xiao looked at each other, knowing they were going to die. Why else would they
be going to the river? They just hoped that they would have a quick and painless end.
A cry rose from the group, and the Japanese soldiers glared. Some cowered slightly under
the fierce gaze.
“Quiet!” A soldier barked. He raised his pistol and shot aimlessly.
The group immediately huddled together, trying to gain safety in numbers. Kang felt
Xiao’s grip loosen and her warmth slowly slip away. Alarmed, he turned to look at his friend,
only to see the life vanishing from her eyes. Blood gushed from the side of her head. She fell to
the ground with a dull thud.
The Japanese swung the butts of their rifles, like herding cattle. The captured shuffled and
marched to their destination, feat dragging on the ground. Their heads were bowed and hands
clasped together, yielding to their fate.
Kang followed silently, not daring to do anything. Shocked at his friend’s murder, he was
filled with different emotions as he arrived at the Yangtze. It wasn’t the same Yangtze he wrote
about weeks ago. The river didn’t sparkle and shimmer like diamonds, reflecting the sun’s
golden rays. It was dull brown with tinges of red reflecting in the sun.
Again, the Japanese jabbered amongst themselves, and the group grew nervous.
A lady screamed, maddened with shock. The shrill sound pierced the still air. One soldier
grew annoyed, thrusting his bayonet into her stomach, tilting it at an angle to stab her heart.
The tilt forced the lady to impale herself upon the blade, becoming a victim of her own weight.
Kang shuddered. Fear gripped him once again. He recalled his grandmother’s words.
“Click your tongue at the Yangtze river in a time of need, and help will come to you.”
He didn’t hesitate, and clicked his tongue. His eyes trained to the water, finding his saviour.
A ripple broke out on the surface of the water, but the Japanese didn’t notice. He saw a sleek
dark shadow of a dolphin, gliding beneath the water.
Fuelled by the lady’s death, the Japanese shot randomly into the crowd. Many groaned and
collapsed, while others ran for cover. Kang dashed towards the water and dove in. Grasping
tightly the fin of the dolphin, he was led away from the massacre. Looking back, he saw the
Japanese shooting those that attempted escape. One by one they fell.
The dolphin swam upstream, heading towards the forest. Feeling safe, Kang clambered out
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of the water. He knelt by the shore and stroked the snout of the dolphin with gratitude before
disappearing into the forest. The dolphin stayed, watching Kang’s retreat back.
Scared to go out in the open, Kang wandered in the forest, sleeping in trees and eating
what he could scavenge. He remained until a sense of desperation lead him back to the river.
His rustling footsteps alerted the Japanese soldiers. Kang’s eyes grew wide as he saw the
dolphin that saved him being bound together with tight ropes without resistance.
Kang wanted to protest but couldn’t form words. He stood there watching, as the two
soldiers worked.
A soldier glanced up and his eyes dilated as he looked at the young boy.
Kang’s image blurred. His dirty hair turned dark and glossy, round eyes into sleek black
irises, thin pale cheeks grew rosy and chubby. Right there, in the Chinese forest, a young
Japanese boy frolicked among the trees in front of the soldiers, as illusion willed.
Kang looked at the dolphin. Its sorrowful eyes betrayed the eternal smile of its snout. As
the two soldiers slaughtered the dolphin, he stood there and watched, unable to bring himself
to action. As they wandered off with the carcass, Kang grief-stricken, dove into the river, his
mind merging with the dark depths.
The soldier glanced back, as one lonesome tear fell.
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His Love, His Fate
Eirene Woo Kar Lam, 15, St. Mary’s Canossian College
T
he dark sky was being painted in light blue gradually. Then, the sky was marked with
a brilliant stream of sunlight. The surface of the Yangtze River reflected the clouds and
the sun directly as if it was a mirror. Meanwhile, a little carp woke up when the sunlight
broke through the surface of the river.
His eyes lit up when he saw the amazing scenery from the bottom of the watercourse.
“Wow! I’ve never seen such a beautiful view in my entire life!” he screamed excitedly. His
mum frowned, trying to cover her ears with her hands, but he continued screaming and shook
her hands, “Mum, are there any other scenes that are prettier than this one in the world?” She
attempted to ignore him, but unfortunately she failed.
“There are lots of attractive places along this river. Why don’t you simply swim along it?”
she answered him impatiently.
“Hurray! That means we can travel to thousands of lovely places when we have time, am
I correct?”
His dad rubbed his eyes gently and said, “But there are many humans living along Yangtze
River … Carpy, never believe in…” he paused, “never forget that humans are as cruel as
sharks, as powerful as whales, as harmful as Gymnotus…”
“How come travelling along the Yangtze River relates to humans?” Carpy scratched his
head and asked with a stern look.
“Because… Because…” mum hesitated, attempting to change the topic immediately,
“Sweetheart, let’s go out and find some food for Carpy…” She turned her head to Carpy, “And
you, stay here ’til we come back.” Then they both swam away swiftly.
***
Darkness started to swallow up all the brightness in the sky. Carpy looked around
anxiously. “Where are you, mum … don’t you remember that I am afraid of places without
any light? Dad, I’m starving … don’t leave me alone!” He murmured, trembling with fear
and worries.
An old carp nearby gave him a look of disgust, but he didn’t seem to realise. However, his
face lit up suddenly when he saw her, “Mum! I missed you so much! Where have you been?”
The old carp froze in astonishment when he hugged her tightly, “Stay away from me!” “What?”
“I said – stay – away – from – me!” She wiggled forcefully and roared with anger. Carpy tried
to rub away all the tears that blurred his vision. He soon realised this carp was not his mum
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and he cried hysterically. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you, but I would like to ask, have you
seen my daddy and mummy? I haven’t seen them since this morning…” “Someone told me that
many fish died at Yichang … you may go there and take a look…”
“WHAT?” He grabbed the old carp’s hand forcefully, not allowing anyone to let go of
him anymore. However, she just swung away his arms and swam as fast as she could. He froze
in astonishment; his entire body was filled with disbelief. He laughed sadly, “She must be
kidding, mustn’t she? That’s impossible…” He closed his eyes, not allowing any tears to run
down his face again. After a short while, he slept quietly, wearily, uneasily…
***
The next morning, Carpy woke up with a pair of swollen eyelids. His mind turned blank,
not eager to move until he heard some drum-like sound from his stomach. He simply put
something inside his mouth and continued to think of his parents. This situation lasted for
weeks. One day, when he glanced at the sun that had the same shape as his dad’s face through
the water, he heard his dad’s words, “Carpy, don’t look back and just go on with your own life.”
He looked around, but no one was there. Although he still felt depressed, his father’s words had
provided an abundant amount of energy to his soul.
He looked at the sun again and said, “Don’t worry, dad and mum, I will go to Yichang and
find out where you are,” he blinked back his tears, “though both of you may be dead, I will still
find your dead bodies and bury them.” His face glowed with strength.
***
He started swimming after a while, trying to look up whenever he felt exhausted.
Hundreds of trees and millions of flowers were skimming the surface of the water over his
head. He stared at the entire scenery in amusement; two tall mountains covered with grass
were standing side by side, watching strange faces across the river seriously like guards;
flowers in various colours surrounded this river like a crowd of friendly villagers who reach
out their arms to hug newcomers. He put on a smiley face gradually, feeling a bit relieved about
this wonderful beginning.
He kept swimming along the river. Soon, he saw many rock-like figures that were so tall
that they almost reached the sky along the riverside. There were holes on their smooth surfaces.
“What’re they?” he murmured.
“They are called ‘buildings’. Many human beings are living inside their ‘stomachs’,” a
hoarse, low-pitched voice answered.
“Who are you? How come you know all these things?” Carpy frowned in shock, gazing at
this fish with a pair of puffed eyes.
“I am a Catfish. I’ve been living here for more than a year. Sometimes when I chat with my
friends and neighbours, I get to know more about humans. So … who are you?” Catfish asked.
“I’m Carpy, I’m now going to Yichang to find my lost parents.” His eyes became more puffed.
Catfish was impressed by his toughness and filial piety, he cleared his voice, “Let me go
with you.” Carpy looked at him doubtfully, so he continued, “Firstly, since my wife is lost and
many fish died in Yichang, I have to find her also; secondly, as you are too small to take care of
yourself, I’ll help you.” His face turned pink.
“Thanks, Cat,” Carpy was touched beyond words. Suddenly, he found it hard to breathe;
the entire river was turning cloudy from right to left. He saw some brown liquid rushing out
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from many tiny circles. The water was blackened within a short period of time. He tried to
grab everything around him in order to take hold of Cat’s hand, but he failed. He exclaimed,
“Where’re you, Cat?” He sobbed in fear, “Don’t leave me behind!” Meanwhile, a fish held his
hand, bringing him to a clearer place. As the water became a bit clearer, he saw Cat’s face right
in front of him, his lips twisted upwards warmly.
“How come the river turned dark?” He coughed, feeling uncomfortable about the abrupt
change in the river.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s due to the drainage system,” Cat paused, “Some humans
discharge many dirty things into this river for their convenience, and those dirty things may
suffocate us. Don’t you know that humans are very selfish?”
Carpy was totally stunned by what Cat said. In the past, he had just heard of this special
term “humans” from old fairy tales, and he had always imagined humans in the most perfect
way; they were kind-hearted, talented and beautiful. Something crossed his mind suddenly,
he thought, “How come Cat is so mean in his thoughts about humans? He must be kidding!
Otherwise I must prove to him that he is wrong!”
***
Carpy remained silent as they wandered around looking for food. After a short while,
when he was still thinking of various ways to prove that Cat was wrong, his small head banged
against a pillar accidentally. He was speechless as he looked upwards. Bending backwards, he
saw an enormous eel-like creature right in front of him, trying to straighten its snowy white
body to link two invisible ends together…
“Those ten stones are as tall as hills, don’t you think so?” Carpy asked with awe, looking
at those ten white and tall “stones” that were used to support the creature’s huge body.
“This is the Shanghai Yangtze River Bridge. The ‘rocks’ under it are called ‘pillars’. There
are at least two pillars per mile. Don’t you know that there are several pillars along this bridge
built by humans?” Cat said calmly.
“Wow! Human beings are so powerful!” Carpy’s eyes sparkled with delight, “What is it
used for?”
“I am not quite sure … maybe it is used to connect different people in different places so
as to strengthen the bonds between humans…” Cat scratched his head.
“See! Humans are so united! They’re … perfect!” Carpy had finally found one point for the
debate, but Cat, who was still finding food patiently, didn’t respond to him.
***
After having plentiful food for lunch, Carpy continued the journey with Cat happily. Carpy
was still admiring the scene of this modern city while Cat was thinking of his adorable wife…
They had been swimming along the river for several months, when they arrived in Wuhan.
Though Carpy was feeling better and better, his body had become weaker and weaker because
of the polluted soil nearby. Once he saw many cube-like buildings, but much lower. He asked
curiously, “What’s that?” “You may call them ‘villas’ or ‘houses’. People live inside them.” Cat
frowned, but Carpy wasn’t aware of his strange look.
He attempted to swim nearer to see the houses more clearly. His fishtail swayed from side
to side, raising his head to enjoy that pleasurable moment with a big smile hanging on his face.
However, the shorter the distance between Carpy and this land, the faster Carpy’s heart beat.
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He didn’t realise this unusual situation until he touched the soil. He asked in a weak voice,
“Cat, I feel so uncomfortable … what’s happening…?”
Something went through Cat’s mind immediately. He swam towards Carpy and embraced
him with a pair of strong arms. He looked at the sky and murmured, “Mum, is the soil being
polluted like the previous time that spoiled your life? Tell me … please.” But no one replied.
***
Cat kept swimming along the Yangtze River as fast as he could in order to find a less
polluted place for Carpy to take a rest. After a long period of time, the scenery on the land had
changed from thousands of buildings and houses that beamed dazzling light across the river to
complete darkness with birds’ witch-like cries echoing around these two fish.
Carpy coughed with purple lips moving slowly, “Cat … I’m afraid I will die soon…” He
smiled slowly, saying a word that meant much to both of them, “Thanks…”
Cat cried hysterically since he had experienced too many separations from loved ones in
life and death. “No!” he exclaimed. He then persuaded himself to calm down; he whispered
with a trembling voice, “Carpy, just take a break and you will be fine. Just take a rest … will be
fine … just take a … rest…” Carpy closed his eyelids.
While Cat lightly touched Carpy’s forehead like a caring father, he glimpsed at the big
round moon, “Mr Moon, you represent the reunion of families, don’t you? It must be right,
my mum told me so. So please, please let Carpy become a healthy, lively fish so that he can
find his parents…” He paused. “By the way, why do the humans keep damaging this beautiful
river? Why? Don’t they know that all this construction and waste disposal is poisoning the soil,
polluting the river and taking away our lives?” he shouted with anger.
A breeze passed by, blowing his words gently along the Yangtze River.
***
The sun rose gradually, and sunlight shone on both their faces. Cat woke up and
mumbled, “Let’s continue our trip, Carp.” No one replied. “Wake up,” he ordered Carpy as
usual while stretching his body. When he was about to turn in anger and scowl at Carpy, he
realized Carpy looked … lifeless; his face was pale, his lips remained purple, and he frowned
in pain… Cat laughed nervously, “That is not fun, Carp. Come on, wake up and we’ll find
your parents together.” He slammed into Carp’s back. His strange laughter stopped. His mind
went blank while his entire body was numb with fear. “Are – are you – kidding – ME?” His
voice was faint.
After a few seconds, Cat’s expressionless emotion changed into an uncontrollable cry. He
wept for Carpy’s … death … while he was trying very hard to rub away all the tears in his
eyes, he saw… he saw Carpy’s lips curling a bit! He rubbed his eyes again to ensure it wasn’t
an illusion! Carpy’s lips trembled slightly while the purple colour on his face faded gradually…
His pair of big eyes looked around wearily. However, he couldn’t take his eyes off Cat, who
looked straight into Carpy’s eyes.
“GOOD … morning … I thought you were…”
“Stupid.” Carpy seemed to understand what Cat was trying to say…
His eyes filled with tears again since he was very glad of being called “stupid” by this little
fish. He hugged Carpy so tightly that he was almost choked to death.
“Cat, I feel much better after sleeping for a l-o-n-g time. Don’t worry.”
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***
They both stayed away from the soil after that, though there were no houses or buildings
on the land at all.
While they were moving towards their final destination, Cat asked, “Carpy, why do you
think that humans are kind?”
“Because … in the past, I’ve heard of some old fairy tales that mentioned what humans
were … Okay, let me tell you one of those stories … Once upon a time, there was a fish who’s
mouth was trapped by an octopus-tentacle-like object.”
“After that, he disappeared from the river,” Cat glanced at Carpy, “And then a human – a
human – SAVED him from the devil’s hand and put him back into this river, and he lived
happily ever after with his family.”
“That is just a fantasy,” Cat looked straight into Carpy’s eyes, “not reality.”
Carpy was a bit angry over Cat’s disbelief, “How come you never believe in humans.
They’re so…” He was shocked that he couldn’t find a good adjective to describe humans.
“… Good!”
“Let me tell you one thing. The reason why you found it hard to breathe was due to the soil
pollution caused by humans…”
“Cat, I think you’re too subjective, maybe it’s because the river is dirty…”
“The reason why the river is dirty is that humans throw too much rubbish into it!” Carpy
was speechless after listening to Cat’s words. He started to doubt his own belief…
***
After swimming for a few weeks, they arrived in Yichang.
“How come there’s no dead fish here? The old carp told me that my… my parents are here,
ain’t I correct?”
Cat didn’t say anything. He just observed everything seriously. Meanwhile, Carpy was
very impatient since he couldn’t see his parents and he was starving.
“Cat, let’s find some food to eat before you find your wife. I am S-T-A-R-V-I-N-G!”
Suddenly, his eyes glittered with hope – there were millions of earthworms! He couldn’t wait
anymore! He peered at Cat, who was staring all around him, and swam nearer to the paradise
of earthworms in order to pick the plumpest one for his meal.
He decided to eat it, and when he heard Cat shouting, “Stop!” he had already opened
his mouth and bit into the worm subconsciously. There was a pain spreading from his
chin; he tried to rub away this awful feeling, but unluckily he failed. He gazed at his chin
in astonishment – he was bleeding! Soon, he discovered that his mouth was trapped by an
octopus-tentacle-like object. He was so afraid at first, but he remembered that the fish in the
story was saved by humans afterwards and hence he screamed, “Cat, I’m now showing you the
reality that HUMANS ARE NOT BAD AT ALL!”
Before Cat could think of any solution, Carpy was pulled out of the river. All of a sudden,
Carpy saw there was a man who was using a snake-like figure to hang him up in the air!
However, the man didn’t seem to be planning to let him go back into the Yangtze River… The
man exclaimed, “Darling, let’s cook this carp tonight!” “Sure!” The female next to this man
nodded, “Oh–my–GOD!” She shouted as she pulled two carps out of the river… “Wow! We’ll
definitely have a great meal tonight, right?”
Carpy did not understand what the couple was talking about, he just shouted at those two
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carps in excitement after he saw their faces clearly, “Dad… Mum, I… I… missed… missed…”
Before he could say the last word, he felt that he couldn’t breathe anymore; his swim bladder
was going to explode; his whole body was losing energy bit by bit… He attempted to swing his
tail by using all his remaining power so as to go back into river, but he couldn’t. He tried to
shout at the humans, begging them to save his life. However, when he looked at the couple with
their evil smiles and witch-like laughter, he knew that he was… wrong…
***
His father’s words ran through his mind abruptly, “Carpy, remember not to believe in
humans, they are as cruel as sharks, as powerful as whales, as harmful as Gymnotus…”
***
“A couple is suffering from food poisoning after eating a carp that was caught from the
Yangtze River. Meanwhile, lots of chemicals were found in that carp’s body…” The reporter’s
voice was echoing around the house that was located right next to the Yangtze River…
A strong wind passed by, trying to blow away her annoying voice along the river…
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The Girl with Emerald Hair
Gene Lin, 15, Kiangsu Chekiang College, International Section
T
he odour of spring thrives pleasantly like the sweetness of fruit. The long awaited
warmth had condensed upon the earth finally. At last, winter had passed.
Yet, something is happening. As Li Xiang trails slowly down the riverside, he inspects
the emerald river closely as he agilely hops from one rock over to another. The woods appear
to be just as ordinary as they always are; the humming of cicadas echoes endlessly among the
willow trees and flowers flourish at every step he lands; even right now, he can find butterflies
fluttering their delicate wings before him, chasing each other like innocent children playing
hide and seek.
But something is wrong in the river, something unnatural; something so foul that it defies
the law of nature, a defiance that has occurred ever since Ling fell from the cliff. The river is
green. Such a simple colour change cannot possibly express the impact it has brought upon the
village, but whatever is happening, the River God is certainly not at peace with his new bride.
The Yangtze River that used to be clear as mirror had turn into an unmanageable mass
of green water, as though it had been infested by swarms of algae within a single night. The
river seems to be sick, like a wilting plant infested by pests that is dying of rot. The villagers
find the water difficult to consume, for it causes sickness and poor health. The fishes are dead;
fishermen are returning home empty handed every day. The village is dying, and no one
knows why. Li Xiang returns to the village pervaded by the taste of misery. He immediately
notices the sudden rise of noise by the shore where the fishing boats are kept. Something has
attracted the interest of the whole village, something apparently so fascinating that everyone
has abandoned their daily routine. For a brief while, Li Xiang assumes people had finally made
the first harvest in a long while, for most fishes are soon proven to be unable to survive in the
new green habitat. Or maybe it’s just the death of another child he knew, the Zhang household
had lost their newborn two days ago from the disease of the water, everyone knows it’s just a
matter of time before one more little grave appears on the village-side. However, as he moves
through the crowd and discovers the source of the attention, he finds himself utterly speechless.
At first glance, Xiang cannot believe his eyes. A girl stands motionlessly in the centre with her
scarlet wedding dress soaked with water, her body seems to show no sign of injury or harm at
all. Yet despite the fact she survived in the river for over a month, her long hair that used to be
ink-black had made a curious transition to a strange yet beautiful emerald green, just like the
river water she returns from. The emerald hair glimmers in the reflection of the sun like strings
of silk dyed by fine, valuable green paints. Ling has been returned by the River God.
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***
Xiang cannot make sense of what is happening. It was over a month ago when a flood
struck the village with tremendous destructive force. The villagers showed admirable patience,
but that had come to an end eventually. Facing reality, they listened to the village chief who
proclaimed his solution to the disaster:
The River God is angered; a bride must be sent to appease his rage.
And therefore, Ling was pushed off the cliff into the traitorous flow of certain death. She
had disappeared into oblivion along with her red dress and Xiang’s despair.
***
The day ends in the silence of constant whispering, whispers that quickly spread through
the village like disease. At one point the whole village, with the exception of Xiang, has
reached a somewhat mutual agreement that is impossible to overthrow.
The green haired girl has brought misfortune to the village. The River God is not satisfied.
She turns the river green just like her hair.
Ling is imprisoned with the other victims of disease the next day, her existence in the
village is the target of ignorant gossip. She is treated like a contagious disease, something
so foul that even making eye contact with her is dangerous. Ling, in the meantime, shows
complete unwillingness to struggle … in fact, she is unwilling to do anything at all.
Ling isn’t the same. The girl who used to smile and sing so often, had turned into an empty
shell, as though her soul has been washed away by the river. She stares into space a lot, her
mind driven away from where she is. She speaks dreamily, like a bewildered child struggling
to respond to questions beyond his intellectual ability.
While the village decides to ignore the existence of Ling, Xiang has been suffering the
painful realisation that he might be unable to restore Ling’s sanity, while simultaneously trying
everything in his power to do so.
“So, what happened after you fell?” Xiang asks.
“The River God found me.” Ling speaks clearly yet impassionedly. Although her
memories remain, she has developed a sense of coldness towards Xiang, as though an
invisible and divine boundary is drawn between them. Sometimes Xiang even wonders if he
is talking to an utter stranger.
“Yes, yes, we’ve talked about this over and over again, but what happened then?” Xiang
speaks impatiently, his frustration is difficult to conceal.
“I fell into the water, it was dark, and…” Her eyes wander off to the window outside, the
warm sunshine makes her hair shine like jadeite, making a striking contrast to her scarlet
dress. “…and I remember, something is in the river, something big … very big, it swam towards
me and … it … ate me.”
For a moment, Xiang thinks he has misheard Ling’s words.
“He … ate you?”
“He was swimming towards me… and I went into him.” Ling concludes, staring at Xiang.
“And when woke up, I was by the riverside … the water was green.”
Ling plays with her hair mindlessly as she looks at Xiang, he cannot detect the slightest
hint of sentimentality from her, her glare simply penetrates into his, Xiang feels she can look
into his mind; it is not a nice experience.
“But why is he making the river green?”
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“He has no choice, he cannot go. Humans from downstream have blocked the channel,”
(Xiang feels uncomfortable about how she refers to people as humans…) “He cannot travel
anymore and he is caged here. That’s why the algae are growing, they are growing too fast
because the River God is here, the River God should not stay at one place too long, he needs
to travel.”
Although Xiang finds the story hard to believe, the fact that the miracle before him has
survived a flood and returned with this impossible appearance makes his doubt feeble. He
stands up and when he is just about to leave, Ling speaks again.
“Xiang, the River God travels, he should not be caged … he will not be caged … not for long.”
***
Despite Xiang’s unwillingness, it seems Ling’s prediction does carry some truth in it.
Soon after she returned to the village, the Yangtze River has again revealed itself to be itching
with rage. The untameable water stirs more violently every day. Soon it is impossible for the
villagers to avoid hearing the crashing of waves against the shore even in their sleep. People
can sense the frustration, the impatience, and the wildness; the river is ready to strike again.
“The green girl brought this!” the chief claims.
“The River God is angered!” Xiang’s father exclaims.
“She needs to be sent back where she belongs!” Ling’s mother demands.
As the village discusses this at the chief’s house, Xiang is the only person excluded from
the conversation, as he is known to be in contact with the subject of their discussion.
“The River God is trapped here – there is something wrong downstream, that’s where the
problem is.”
Xiang speaks; his voice draws the attention of everyone around room. The one that speaks
to the green girl had spoken.
“Stupid child! How easily you believe the voice of the devil!” the chief scolds, followed
by the crowd’s low remarks of agreement. Xiang’s parents immediately pull him back, out of
everyone’s sight, like he is something inappropriate to present in public, something of shame.
The village decides to travel to the highland before the flood comes. The plan is to leave
the green girl in the cottage to be washed over by the flood … again.
The bride is to be returned to her husband.
***
Xiang rushes back towards the cottage, and opens the gate to discover that Ling is still in
the barn, sitting calmly along with other vermin that are left to die. It almost appears that Ling
is not aware of what is happening; the water has risen to her waist already.
“Ling! QUICK! We have to go!”
Xiang tries to hold Ling’s hand yet hers fails to cooperate; her face is calm and
determined, completely unaware that half of her body is submerged in green water.
“LING! We need to go!” Xiang shouts to her as he shakes her shoulder as hard as possible
to wake her sanity.
“Xiang, I don’t want to go, I don’t belong here, not anymore,” she responds, her hand slips
softly through his palm, refusing to grip on to it. “I … I don’t feel human… anymore. I feel
different, the river is calling me.” For the first time, Xiang sees a sense of gladness on her face.
“Xiang, the River God is leaving!” Ling announces clearly.
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And then, all is gone.
The confined world of the cottage is completely shattered by the enormous wave of river
water striking the village unexpectedly. Xiang and Ling are instantly thrown into a world
of pure green. Xiang cannot see, he does not know which way is up or down, forward or
backward – all he sees is green.
The silence under the world of water is mesmerizing; such calmness is ridiculously
different from the world above that is in riot. Xiang kicks his legs and waves his arms, doing
anything in his power to search for the exit of this invisible cell of no escape. It feels as though
something is pressing against Xiang’s chest, crushing harder and harder, and somehow he
knows his lung will eventually be ruptured.
Suddenly, from the far distance of darkness, somewhere from the other world, a high,
magnificent, wild voice echoes in the world of the water, it is so powerful that even in such a
desperate situation, Xiang can feel a strange mixture of chilling fear and excitement running
through every cell in his body … because even though he cannot see it, he knows who the
owner of that voice is, and it is on the move.
A firm arm grabs his wrist and draws Xiang quickly towards a certain direction and plucks
him out of water. The relief of being able to breathe again is sweet and satisfying.
It is Ling – even now, she seems to be in no shock at all, in fact her face is now coloured
with unmistakable joy. She giggles at Xiang as he tries to cough out water, coming to the
realisation that they had made it out of the water.
As they swim towards the nearest visible land, Xiang still replaying what just happened in
his mind, he finds himself at the cliff again, the one that Ling was forced to jump from. Still
coughing out the water out of exhaustion, Xiang sees Ling walking towards the cliff. Her hair
looks exactly the same as the water right now – emerald green.
“Ling!”
The river has submerged the entire village, Xiang has never felt so frightened beside the
river, how easily he can be devoured by the green monster simply by making the mistake of
tripping over the moss.
“Xiang,” she turns around and speaks, smiling, looking just like how she used to be. “Stay
here and you’ll be safe. It’s going to be over soon. The River God is waiting for me.”
Ling turns to the cliff as she moves towards her desired destination. Her scarlet wedding
dress flows gently in the air, impossible to miss.
Xiang runs over as he grabs her arm and tries to pull her back. But Ling leans her face
towards Xiang and whispers in his ear,
“I’m going home.”
And so it is that Ling turns around and disappears once again into the air Xiang once
desperately tried to catch. And just like last time, he fails.
Xiang stares into the empty space just like he had done a few months ago and yet, he feels
exactly the same way as last time, the devastation does not feel any less painful on losing his
friend again.
Xiang falls to his knees and crawls towards the edge of the cliff, the water is not as high
as last time but no sight of Ling can be found. Even from such a distance, Xiang is undeniably
petrified by the power of the river he once considered a peaceful creature to live by.
And then he sees something.
The exact spot where Ling fell is starting to flutter with an unnatural pattern of wave. As it
grows stronger, the wave forms a vortex. It grows larger and larger, until a black hole appears
within it – an endless black realm with no end or beginning.
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Then, a high, magnificent, wild voice emerges from the darkness, the same voice Xiang
heard in the water, something is in the black hole, and it’s coming.
It grows larger and larger … closer and closer, until it reaches the surface and reveals its
true identity.
Xiang cannot believe what he is witnessing.
The creature appears to have a long, emerald body; its skin seems like it is made of jadeite
scales. It looks like a snake, but with the head of a beast that has sharp canine teeth, long
golden whiskers and horns. It has claws like a reptile yet it moves so gracefully that you doubt
whether it is a beast at all. The monster’s eye met Xiang’s. It’s an eye of pure black that is so
large Xiang is absolutely petrified, because he can see his own reflection within its pupil.
The creature begins to release a divine howl so powerful the earth might have been on the
verge of destruction. Xiang’s body flinches uncontrollably as he sees the beast in astonishment.
The beast’s voice seems to break the heavy clouds in the sky and releases warm sunshine that
spills upon the land like precious gold.
The River God had completely revealed himself; every patch of scale on his skin reflects
the sunlight unlike anything Xiang could ever imagine.
And then, with a slight bend of its body, the snake-like River God makes a gesture that
almost seems like a bow to Xiang. The two exchange a long stare in which Xiang finally
understands this creature knows exactly who he is.
The River God releases his last howl, declaring his departure, and glides elegantly towards
the sunshine from the great entrance in the sky. It is as though the river itself is leaving too.
The green snake grows smaller and smaller, and eventually, disappears along with the sunshine
the moment it penetrates the cloud.
As though it had never happened.
Xiang stands speechlessly by the cliff, unable to do anything but keep staring into the
point in the sky where the dragon vanishes.
Upon the small island of rock, Xiang feels something has been taken from him. With a
sense of relief, he feels peace for the very first time.
***
Years pass, Xiang is forced to leave the village after the dam downstream somewhere
called the Three Gorges causes the water to rise, submerging his village beneath it.
In the final few years of Li Xiang’s life, he returns to the river once again where his village
used to be, as his trembling hand struggles to hold on to the cane that keeps him standing
alongside the rolling bottle of oxygen that sustains his every breath. He takes something from
his bag; something that was beyond extravagant in his youth but merely valuable nowadays;
something he discovered washed ashore the day after he survived the flood.
A scarlet, Chinese wedding dress that is too small for a grown woman to wear.
Li Xiang rubs the piece of fabric against his palm, feeling it slipping through his fingers
and fall into the Yangtze River.
At last, what was once taken had finally been returned, and that is how the story ends.
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Daphne of the Yangtze River
Jaslyn Chiu Lon Yan, 15, Shatin Tsung Tsin Secondary School
I
t was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the
age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the
season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter
of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct
to heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the
present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or
for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.’
Myrtle Townsend slammed her literature book shut, glancing at the distant Three Gorges
Dam through the fading light. With its state-of-the-art large turbines, it was a historic
engineering, social and economic success for the Chinese. However, as the massive turbines
and generators spun and buzzed to life for their daily monotonous chores, the dam innocently
crushed wandering fish that had never been taught ‘curiosity killed the cat’ with its wicked and
monstrous jaws; it had smothered archaeological and cultural sites to death, infuriated nearby
slopes till they snapped and crumbled, nauseating the nearby lands who then vomited tons of
sediments every day, shaved the hair off forests and wrecked the homes of millions.
Myrtle sighed, she was no philistine; the dam was a drop-dead gorgeous piece of art
sculpted by the hands of man but it had knocked nature off its course. Now, she felt contrite,
like a toddler who had knocked over and broken all the wine bottles at a wedding party. Her
mercenary billionaire parents had showered money on building a resort hotel beside the dam,
promising the ailing Yangtze River another infection of viruses – bustling tourists who had no
sense of environmental protection and would create stagnant waste. In fact, they had brought
her along on this cruise to witness the opening ceremony of the hotel. Her parents might have
loved her but they didn’t understand her.
Myrtle stood at the tip of the deck, arms flailing out, eyes closed, rivulets of water spraying
on her cheeks, the wind whistling a symphony of cicadas and nightingales. Myrtle felt like
Rose in Titanic, with the wild wind as Jack, embracing and caressing her gently.
Suddenly, a strong gust of malicious wind knocked Myrtle off balance. Jack lost grip of
her and Myrtle found herself parachuting, without a parachute, into the river. Her desperate
screams for help were swallowed by the voracious wind as ice cold water gushed up to greet
her with pure torture. Myrtle shrieked out and put up a gallant fight against the engulfing
currents but only found herself sinking deeper and deeper, choking on bone-chilling water.
Soon, her vision of the cruiser faltered, like she was about to be awoken from a nightmare,
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only this was no ordinary dream, it was real. With sinking horror and disgust, her science
knowledge reminded her, “The waters near the dam could reach hundreds of feet in depth.” It
was like falling into an abyss, water filling up her lungs, kicking all the oxygen out. Myrtle’s
vision darkened.
“When you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you. I’m going to die … there’s no
way anyone could save me … or find my body…”
With that, she passed out.
***
A ray of light and hope blinded Myrtle.
“Where am I?” murmured Myrtle.
“You’re in Arcadia, Myrtle,” a singsong voice chirped.
With a start, Myrtle bolted upright to come face to face with a beautiful girl around her age.
“Pardon me for waking you up, Myrtle. I’m Princess Daphne, the princess of Arcadia.
Please, call me Daphne. Are you all right? My butler found you drowning near the dam. I was
so perturbed you would never regain consciousness. Oh, thank God!”
Myrtle blinked and scanned her surroundings. She had long given up on believing in
fairytale kingdoms but what greeted her eyes pushed her doubts aside. Flourished with jewelled
flowers and grasses, Myrtle had practically stepped into a children’s fairytale book. However,
much to her surprise, a creeping fog was shadowing Arcadia’s edges, withering flowers and
trees where it touched them.
Sensing her unsteadiness, Daphne smiled sadly, “Or welcome to what is left of Arcadia.
The sinister fog you might have noticed is the result of all the pollution and disruption you
human beings have brought to the Yangtze River. With each passing day, the fog is sprawling
wider and wider. Soon, the fog will smother the whole of Arcadia and Arcadia will be
destroyed. But it is under control with all the Arcadians’ combined efforts. Hopefully, Arcadia
won’t come to an end for another centenary or so.”.
Suddenly, a masculine voice broke Myrtle out of her spell. “Daphne! Daphne! Hades is
planting a Pandora’s box in…” Myrtle found her eyes locked on the boy dashing in. Tall, with
intense forget-me-not-blue eyes, a mop of curls and finely-moulded features, Myrtle felt her
heart melt for him.
“Myrtle, let me introduce you to my brother and the heir to Arcadia’s throne, Prince Apollo.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Myrtle. Forget all about that prince and heir stuff, just call me
Apollo,” Apollo flashed Myrtle a sunshine smile. “Oh. Back to business, Daphne. The Crystal
Lake showed a vision of Hades planting a Pandora’s Box near River Styx and the human world
being blown apart. I must stop her!” Apollo exclaimed indignantly.
“For Pete’s sake, Apollo. In a few years time, you’ll be crowned king. When will you grow
up and stop getting yourself killed?” Daphne sighed.
“Count me in, Apollo. I want to help you save the already damaged world in the name of all
humans from the claws of evil as a sign of apology for destroying it,” Myrtle volunteered bravely.
The atmosphere was as quiet as a graveyard for a few moments as Apollo and Myrtle
glanced at Daphne hopefully, like two toddlers begging their parents for permission to go
to Disneyland.
Either Daphne sensed that there was no point in trying to thwart the two obstinate heroes’
plans for saving the world, or she had a soft spot for Apollo’s pleading eyes, but she finally
nodded and could only say, “You have no idea what you’ve stumbled upon.”
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***
Soon, Myrtle and Apollo were whizzing at breakneck speed in a bubble.
“In a nutshell, Hades is Daphne’s doppelganger, a dead ringer for Daphne.
Unfortunately, while Daphne decided to be tolerant and forgive humans’ foolish behaviour,
Hades resorted to fighting as an eco-warrior, planning deadly revenges against humans. In
fact, their attitudes towards humans have mixed as well as oil and water. Sadly, Hades left
Arcadia for River Styx with one-third of Daphne’s male subjects to build the headquarters
for her deadly catastrophes. Hades kills anyone who gets in her way or becomes a burden to
her even her subjects. As far as I know, they have only come up with one effective weapon,
the Pandora’s Box, which explodes like a bomb and could kill every human being, except for
Arcadians and animal species,” Apollo said. “Oh! We’re almost at the Styx region.”
Styx … the river to the underworld of Hades in Greek mythology … the name gave Myrtle
the creeps.
The Styx region lived up to its name. As they passed an unfriendly gate warning people
not to trespass, the temperature dwindled to teeth-chattering cold. Under her feet, gnarled
fingers of scabrous seaweed clawed at the bubble, threatening to drag them down to join their
collection of bones. As the last nightmare of seaweed left them alone, drawing themselves
away like the red curtains to a mesmerizing drama, Myrtle could only gape in terror at
what unfolded before her eyes. The drama was a horror, set in a spooky history museum in
disarray. Everywhere, bits and pieces of bone fragments of grotesque species from a child’s
monster nightmare were strewn across the earth like a scattered jigsaw puzzle, a long-forgotten
cemetery left to rot in hell. Here and there, dissected replicas of nameless cultural sites were
buried by sand dunes, like antibodies attacking a virus.
“Hades built this living hell to indoctrinate her followers and remind them of all the ‘good
deeds’ humans have done to the Yangtze River, making precious species extinct and sinking
cultural sites. Look, there’s a baiji’s fossil,” Apollo pointed. Myrtle drew her gaze away,
expecting to see some science fiction monster. “Hey! That’s Hades’ hideout and the Styx River.
This is it, Myrtle, we’re going to save the world!” shouted Apollo.
Looking at the cave looming ahead, Myrtle gulped – she had a few doubts.
***
“How are we supposed to get in, this whole cave is a fortress!” whispered Myrtle from
their hideout behind a boulder. Four armed guards stood at the cave entrance, statue-like,
glaring at each passing speck of dust. “Beats me!” Apollo muttered feebly. “Psst … I think
I can help!” rang a voice behind them. They turned to come face to face with a girl covered
from head to toe in soot and rags. Myrtle blinked, the girl’s sea-blue eyes and fair hair seemed
awfully familiar, yet she couldn’t remember where she had seen that face. The girl fished out
a small piece of grilled lizard. “The guards love lizard meat more than their lives, they would
sacrifice their lives for it, just toss it out and they’ll be too busy fighting each other to notice
any intruders,” the girl continued.
Taking the lizard, Apollo asked, “How can we ever thank you for your help, miss? By the
way, what are you doing in Styx all alone? It’s no place for a girl to loiter around.”
Tears welled in the girl’s eyes as she forced a lopsided smile, “I’m Ella, a former slave of
Hades who was considered an eyesore and banished by her. Now I’ll spend the rest of my life
rotting here, forgotten and abandoned.” “No, you won’t. My sister can help. She has a home for
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refugees that could offer you shelter. Here, hold on tight, let me offer you a lift to her place.”
Apollo blew a bubble around the girl. In a whisk, she was out of sight.
Myrtle tossed the lizard out. Sure enough, the guards pounced on it like cats on a mouse,
kicking and biting each other. Apollo and Myrtle tiptoed into the cave.
Once inside, they shuffled along a tunnel to an opening. The two of them ducked into
an alcove as six shadows drew closer. Myrtle peeped at the approaching leader. There,
leading the small procession was Hades herself in a black cloak, giving instructions to her
subjects, “Now, I want you to take care of the ribbon and handle it carefully. The box has
been delivered and set up secretly. The opening ceremony offers us no second chance if
we screw things up. Do you hear? I’ll meet you at the hotel in half an hour. Now, I’ve got
bigger fish to fry…”
Myrtle blinked. Ribbon? Opening ceremony of a hotel? What about the plans of blowing
up Styx River?
Myrtle stole a glance at Hades’ subjects. To her surprise, they were all male and bore a
strong resemblance to the guards at the entrance, the same burly build, bald heads, smart dark
suits and sunglasses. Hades’ subjects were all men. But then what about Ella?
With mounting horror, she figured out the intricate solution. The pieces of the puzzle fit
together. They had been tricked.
“Apollo, run! This whole thing is a trick!”
No sooner had the words tumbled out than the cave shuddered and shook violently. A dull
rumble echoed the tunnel. Looking around, Myrtle saw tongues of boiling lava licking their
way out, heading straight for them.
Apollo blew a bubble just in time to carry them out to safety. Heat penetrated the bubble,
threatening to melt it and tip them off to join the fake Hades and her subjects, perishing before
their eyes as they sped away.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Myrtle rasped, “We’ve been pawns in a cat and mouse game,
Apollo. Hades was planning to finish us off first, by luring us into the cave in the form of
pathetic Ella, then go after Daphne. Worse still, she will watch the world burst into flames as
my father snips the ribbon at the opening ceremony of his hotel in half an hour.”
“We must beat her in reaching Daphne. She’s in grave danger!”
***
But it was too late. There, lying in a crumpled heap amidst a sea of pillows was Daphne’s
body. Fear, anger and sorrow stabbed Myrtle like the knife embedded in Daphne’s heart. As if
that wasn’t heartbreaking enough, the dripping blood on the blade spelt ‘GAME ON’, scoffing
at Myrtle for her foolishness. Get a grip, Myrtle! You’ve got a murderer who’s going to blow up
the world on the loose! She thought indignantly, reproaching herself.
Contrary to her expectations, Apollo didn’t shed a tear. Gingerly, he took out a pocketknife
and snipped off his sister’s long, silky hair.
“Daphne wouldn’t have wanted us to sit and mourn her while Hades’ plans are going on
flawlessly,” Apollo said, without a hint of sorrow. “She would have had urged us to hatch a plan
to save the world.” He continued, “Now, here’s my plan B, Hades must’ve gone to the ceremony
to watch the holocaust of human civilisation like a horror movie. We must catch her with
this…” he tied up Daphne’s hair into a lasso. “Daphne’s hair is the only thing in this planet
which could hold Hades. We must tie her up and incarcerate her in our ice caverns forever.”
“And stop my father from cutting the ribbon,” Myrtle piped in.
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There was no time to lose. The hotel opening ceremony was starting in five minutes. Every
ticking second on the clock was a countdown to the bomb that would end the world, not to
mention the fact that Myrtle’s father was going to cut the ribbon.
Myrtle nodded at Apollo, who blew bubbles around them until they were engulfed in a
giant bubble bath. “Bubbles, please take us to the hotel.”
In the twinkling of an eye, Myrtle and Apollo found themselves at the entrance of the
imposing hotel, two drops of water in a river of high-strung people. As the two of them weaved
their way through the flooding crowds, the MC’s resonant voice soared above the stifling
crowds, “And now, we have the honour of inviting Mr Townsend to cut the ribbon for our
opening ceremony.”
To Myrtle’s horror, she caught a glimpse of her immaculately-dressed father, picking up
the scissors, poised to cut the ribbon. With more than 20 yards to go, less than five seconds
before her father wiped every human being off the face of earth with his bare hands and the evil
mastermind swallowed by the crowds, Myrtle knew there was only one thing to do. It was the
oldest trick in the book – “Sniper! Everyone get down!” Myrtle screamed at the top of her lungs.
In a wink, Myrtle’s father was ushered away by an army of bodyguards, leaving the
scissors and ribbon behind. Wave after wave of people toppled over like dominos, all except
for one.
“That’s Hades!” shouted Apollo. “Oh no! It looks like she’s finishing her dirty work by
herself! Not so fast, you moron!”
Sure enough, Hades was galloping towards the ribbon, knife in hand. Apollo spun his lasso
and threw … but missed.
Cackling with laughter, Hades raised the knife…
“No!” Myrtle threw herself on top of Hades and kicked the knife out of her reach,
wrestling Hades onto the floor. But she was much too strong for Myrtle. Shoving her aside,
Hades scrambled up and reached for the scissors. Mustering as much strength as she could,
Myrtle stuck out her leg in Hades’ way and sent her falling, face first.
Apollo saw his chance and threw the lasso again. Luck was on his side, as the lasso looped
itself neatly around Hades.
Myrtle sighed and smiled, as Apollo blew bubbles to send the infuriated Hades to the
ice caverns.
***
At sunset, Apollo produced a heavy bag of ashes and offered it to Myrtle.
“My dear Myrtle, would you proudly accept my offer to sprinkle my sister Daphne’s ashes
all over the Yangtze River? “I’d be honoured to do so,” Myrtle replied.
As the egg-yolk-sun spilled its last contents over the Yangtze River, Myrtle and Apollo
travelled along the river in a bubble, sprinkling the ashes all along the river like Hansel and
Gretel’s breadcrumbs, sowing the seeds of hope and peace along with them.
“I guess we’ll have to say goodbye at the end of the day, Apollo. My parents must be
worried sick about me. I hope the fog in Arcadia will one day dissolve completely,” Myrtle
said, a lump in her throat.
“I’m sure it will. I’ll never forget you and your help in saving the world, Myrtle,” Apollo
avoided Myrtle’s gaze.
“Looking on the bright side, I have set up a mission for myself. My family has the
immense wealth to build resorts that destroy wildlife and endanger species but we could put
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aside our big plans to earn big bucks. Instead, we could combine money and heart to protect
and preserve the world’s nature, not just the Yangtze River, from being destroyed!” Myrtle
exclaimed enthusiastically.
“That’s a brilliant idea!” Apollo reached into his pocket and took out a locket. “Here’s
a small locket to always remind you of Arcadia and me, Myrtle. Wherever you are in the
future promoting wildlife preservation, if you ever need a helping hand, just call my name
and I’ll be there.”
“Thanks, Apollo. Look! Some Daphne seedlings are already growing!”
As the sun retreated and yawned after a tedious day of exhausting work, a shooting comet
whizzed past the Daphne seedlings.
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The Newcomer
Kelly Chan, 15, Sacred Heart Canossian College
T
he water was deadly tranquil; sunlight shined upon the sky and warmed the lifeless
river. Silently, XiaoXi sat at the bank of the river, hoping that he would come, again,
from the world that he knew nothing of…
“DR. KIM, EMERGENCY CASE! 10-year-old boy committed suicide, seriously injured in
the head, unsteady heartbeat. We need your help!” a nurse shouted. Edwin swallowed his last
spoonful of rice without chewing and dashed towards the emergency room.
To Edwin, it wasn’t aberrant seeing people at such young age committing suicide, there
were at least six to seven cases every single day. Some of them woke up saying that they were
in heaven; but others just could not make it.
“What is the meaning of life?” Edwin thought, as he was taking a break in his room,
“what if I died in a car accident, will it make any difference?” He gazed at piles of files of his
patients, buried deeply in his own thought.
Suddenly, everything around Edwin seemed to flutter, his vision gradually became vague
and fuzzy as if things were spinning vigorously around him. Before envisioning what was
happening, he had arrived in another place, a place that was thoroughly different from the one
where he belonged to.
“Where on earth am I?” Edwin asked.
Slowly and unhurriedly, Edwin realised that he was standing on top of an isolated knoll.
Ahead of him was an ancient village, walls of houses had worn down; tiny pavements between
houses seemed to have experienced lots of attrition. Large fields in between houses were
planted with grain and vegetables. Yet, what caught his attention most was the river at the
furthest north. Though part of it was blocked by those sparsely distributed houses, Edwin was
confident that he had seen that river before.
Suspiciously, he rambled towards the village.
Things weren’t as expected. Scarcely when he reached the main path of the village, people
started to investigate him with a curious look. Simultaneously, Edwin noticed that people
around were all wearing ancient Chinese costumes with loose lapels and long sleeves. It was
really awkward for him wearing a white medical gown.
Though it might have sounded capricious, the fact that Edwin had travelled back to the
ancient time was crystal clear. He hastily escaped the crowd and fled. Without complications,
he was able to find a place to settle down, which is a house located near the river. Soon, he
started to help cure people with diseases, meanwhile, hoping to find a way to go back to the
modern world.
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Every day, he met patients with similar diseases, like influenza, diarrhea, etc. He often
thought about his patients in the modern world who mostly suffered through committing
suicide or drunk-driving.
“What is the meaning of life?” he questioned himself.
Silently, he sat at the river bank, refreshing himself by the soothing scenery. Water in
the river was deep and dull; he wondered what was under it. Drip flow from trees dived deep
into the water; causing ripples appeared on the water surface. Occasionally, some petite boats
would travel along the river, carrying carts of goods for trade. Every so often, villagers would
come with a gigantic bucket and filled it with water, some of them used it to water their crops
and vegetation; others drank the water just to alleviate themselves under the blazing sun.
“This is the Yangtze River, isn’t it beautiful?” a boy appeared from nowhere muttered and
sat beside Edwin.
“The Yangtze River.” he repeated slowly, “that’s right! This is the Yangtze River.” he
gushed in enthusiasm. As he turned to the boy, he gaped in surprise with his mouth opened
– one of the boy’s eyes was all white – he knew at once that the boy had serious cataract in
that eye and at that stage, that eye has gone blind. When looking into his hollow eyes, Edwin
felt a second of sourness in his heart. Yet, despite the fact that he was half-blind, his face was
slender. He had dark mousy hair and a bulbous nose, which made Edwin thought of the boy
whom he saved after committing suicide.
“So, you are the new-comer! I am XiaoXi, nice to meet you.” XiaoXi greeted him in a
friendly way.
“Hi. Nice to meet you, too.” Edwin replied in an uneasy manner.
“Oh! Don’t worry. I can see you, there’s nothing to be afraid of!” he prattled with a
childish smile on his face. Nevertheless, XiaoXi knew exactly that there was no cure for
his eye; furthermore, the disease in his left eye was gradually spreading to his right eye.
Doubtlessly, Edwin was aware of that. He knew that ere long, the boy would be completely
blind, it was just a matter of time.
“Isn’t that amazing? The sky, the sun, the River... I like to smell things and taste things,
and sometimes sitting here all day, feeling the beauty of the River and nature. Even though I
can’t see everything clearly, I can still feel them, right?”
Edwin closed his eyes, trying to feel the nature. He took a deep breath, warm air
immediately passed through his throat and filled his lung. Perhaps it was the flowers, he could
smell a fragrant scent from the air; perhaps it was the birds in the sky, he could hear them
chirping in delight. Edwin opened his eyes full of wonderment, “this boy is different” he
thought. Again, he reminisced the scene when he received an emergency case of the 10-yearold boy.
One month passed, XiaoXi’s eyes were getting better day by day with the help of modern
methods. Everyone in the village was astounded seeing XiaoXi’s eyes recovering, as cataract at
that time could never be cured.
Every day, the two of them would meet at the bank of the River. Together, they chatted
about everything; now and then, they would just sit at the River bank and appreciated
the delectable view of nature. “The Yangtze River,” XiaoXi said “is one of the two most
important things that connect every one of us in the village. We drank from the same river,
farmed with water from the same river… ” “If the River is just one of it, what is the other
one?” Edwin thought, but didn’t ask. Until one day, XiaoXi suggested to bring him to explore
more about the village. After all, Edwin had worked for a long time without having been
truly acquainted with the place.
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It was just a ten-minute walk to the main path of the village, where population was
highly saturated. As it was in the middle of the day, men were working in the field, busy
forking over the soil and watering the crops; women were clustered in groups and started
chatting; children were playing around cheerfully without any worries in their mind. Edwin
felt as if he was in his hometown, where people interacted with each other. It was rare to
see such a scene in the modern society, everyone would be immersed in their own affairs:
neighbours didn’t greet each other, colleagues just aimed at competing with each other, and
students fought for higher grades with distinctive methods. It was nothing compared to the
love and care that was found in the village.
“It’s love.” Edwin mumbled.
As soon as he muttered those words, he disappeared out of sight.
All of a sudden, everything went back to normal. He was sitting at his office desk in his
medical gown.
“It’s love.” He answered.
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Troubled Utopia
Kendra Cui, 15, Sha Tin College
“Political language … is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to
give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.”
George Orwell
***
That day, two beings called Liu died. The dolphin named Liu, and the human named Liu.
***
Liu woke to the sound of his robot: Good morning, Mr Liu. Normally, he might have been
agitated to be so rudely woken up at this time of the morning, but today was special. It was the
first of August, the year 2050, and the first day of his new job. He was to be a junior manager
for the government’s new Yangtze River environmental program. All the pollution of the past
decades was to be completely cleaned out, and the river restored to its former natural glory –
albeit with a few modifications for human usage, of course.
He had had many jobs before this, but this one was special. This job was for the
government – the absolutely incredible government that had made such important advances
in previous years. Forty years ago, while the world was on the brink of nuclear war, the
government had pulled everything together, introduced a series of strict measures that had
re-established a world where society was perfectly balanced, and everyone was happy. No war,
economic crises or famines. Liu was determined to repay his duty to the government, maintain
that perfect balance and make the public happy – and his job on the Yangtze River was just the
first step. As a bonus treat, he would also be working with the Yangtze dolphin – an animal he
had studied for four years as a graduate marine biology student.
Liu had been told that sentiment was his weakness – he would become emotional at the
most inconvenient times – that was how he had lost his previous jobs. But not this time. He
would not allow his emotions to get in the way of him completing his job.
In the sky-transport station on his way to work, Liu bumped into Mr Maupassant, Ms
Rodriguez, Mrs Hepburn and Mr Masahiro. Although Liu lived in Chongqing, the fifth
largest metropolitan in China with a population of exactly twenty million and five, fifty
point four percent of the population was foreign – a perfect example of the absolutely perfect
globalization and population integration and control scheme carried out twenty years ago. The
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new government had controlled the size and ethnicity of each family until a perfect population
balance was reached in the world, and all races coexisted in harmony. As Liu said good
morning, his four neighbors all flashed him the same set of pearly white and very, very straight
and symmetrical teeth.
In the streets, Liu saw no beggars. The meticulously planned economic control program
had been executed to perfection. Capitalism had been abolished and replaced with strict
measures that deemed absolute economic equality. Everyone received exactly the same wages
and exactly the same pensions and paid exactly the same prices for the same products. No one
was richer than the other.
***
“The first thing you must know”, the supervisor told Liu at his orientation session, “is
that everything must be run with the utmost care and PERFECTION. No mistakes What. So.
Ever. None at all. And I do not expect any from you. You were the best, chosen from over five
million candidates, and you will live up to our expectations.”
Liu was determined not to disappoint on the first day of his job, and snapped straight as he
said, “Yes, of course, sir. Anything for my duty to contribute to a better society, sir.”
The supervisor then took Liu on a moving platform along the river. “Here, we are
reconstructing the natural environment of the Yangtze, so that biodiversity may thrive once
again. Scientists have created genetically modified plants that will absorb all toxins from the
river water. Exactly 1,437 nutrients have been added and are monitored every 23 minutes to
ensure easiest growth for river fish. Like human society, the dolphin community also requires
the strictest measures in order for it to thrive to its full potential.”
Liu smiled with familiarity as he recognised the marine preservation techniques he had
studied in graduate school. The government was doing a perfect job indeed with its conservation.
As the two men passed a chamber, Liu was suddenly struck by a wailing, screeching
sound; it was beyond pity or description, it was torturous and bloodcurdling – it was almost
beyond the human range of hearing.
As he shuddered at the torturous sound, Liu felt as if spiders were creeping up his
goosebumps, and turning his neck like a mechanical doll, he peered into the chamber to find
the source of the sound. What he saw caused his insides to twist.
A Yangtze dolphin, one of the animals he had admired so much, was pressed against
the floor of the chamber, while a long, claw-like needle repeatedly extended in and out of its
abdomen. Blood flowed out, even brighter than lava, while piercing screams echoed from the
dolphin. Yet that was not what unsettled Liu the most. The dolphin did not really look like a
Yangtze dolphin, but at the same time it did – it was just … something about the dolphin was
false and cold.
What were they doing to the dolphins? Wasn’t the program supposed to protect the
dolphins? And why did the dolphin look so unnatural? Liu’s emotions threatened to boil over
– he had loved studying the dolphin in university – but the supervisor suddenly cut Liu with
a stare so sharp that Liu immediately recoiled both internally and externally. Not now … you
were told sentiment was your weakness … don’t risk your job … you need this job … this job
that will allow you to contribute to the perfect society…
***
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Thus, Liu pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind, and carried on with his job.
Although he did not approve of this treatment of the dolphins, he did not let this get in his
way – he was repaying his duty to a perfect society, and the numerous achievements of this
governmental program far outnumbered and outweighed this one incident.
Every day, Liu monitored all 1,437 nutrients of the river every 23 minutes, he made
sure all the correct species of plants where brought in and he checked the river water for ion
concentrations. Then he surveyed the area’s geology and he checked the health of the dolphins,
with up to exactly 384 checks to be performed six times a day. He made sure there was not
one millimetre or one gram or one millilitre of error in all the measurements, working with a
mechanical and inhuman precision.
All the while, Liu had imagined his job to be much more glorious as opposed to arduous
and repetitive, but he was eager to please, and accepted his work without complaint. This
strictness and control was necessary to maintain the balance and perfection of the Yangtze
River environment, just as the same strict control was necessary to bring the world back from
the brink of nuclear war forty years ago and establish this perfect New World.
His real challenge came two weeks later.
***
What’s BZZZ going on? Will someone tell me what’s BZZZZZZ BZZZ going on? How do
I turn this off?
Sirens wailing in the control room, Liu rushed about, checking all the readings. No, he was
sure that he hadn’t made one single mistake with his measurements. All nutrients, organisms and
their health were accounted for; everything was, apparently, perfect according to –
“WHAT’S THE MEANING OF ALL THIS?” the supervisor shrieked as he burst in
the room. “You were to make no mistakes at all! I thought you were capable of maintaining
everything perfectly!” Bits of spittle flew across the room.
“I – I’ll check again.”
Liu’s hands and eyes darted frantically over the control board, searching for the tiny error
that had caused the warning system to go off. He flinched as his gaze suddenly passed over
a meter he had neglected during the past two weeks – it had seemed too insignificant at first
to give attention to. Blood pounding like drums in his ears, Liu noted the population of the
dolphins in the river: it was at four hundred and sixty-two, one more than the specified four
hundred and sixty-one.
“Who allowed that one more dolphin to be born? Who allowed two dolphins to have
sexual intercourse? WHO? Do you understand the seriousness of the implications of a surplus
population? When there is a surplus population, it means there is a lack of already strained
nutrients and resources for each individual, meaning that individuals cannot grow to their full
potential and perfection meaning that imperfect organisms are produced and the community
as a whole cannot develop! This one extra dolphin could upset the perfect balance of the whole
community – a balance you should be no stranger to, after having experienced the government
restore balance to the human race!” Liu’s face was now quite moist with saliva from the
supervisor’s mouth.
“KILL THAT SURPLUS ORGANISM!”
Liu’s heart leapt and his eyes wept as he watched from a surveillance camera a blade fly
in from the air, and lodge itself in the brain of the tiny creature, barely three months old. In his
mouth, Liu tasted regret and despair bitter as blood in the face of the murder of this baby dolphin.
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“As for you, you are a threat to the perfect balance of the dolphin’s society, and ours. Had
this mishap happened in the human world, the consequences would have been more severe:
people fighting over already limited resources and space. It would have ruined the perfect
balance. You must be rectified.”
***
Rectified? But … Liu was back in that chamber he first saw two weeks ago. Long needle,
crimson blood and screaming dolphin. The memories and feelings of disgust and sadness
threatened to drown him again. Rectified? Here?
“What’s … going to happen to me?”
“The same thing that’s happening to them. You see, the Yangtze dolphins were
incompatible with humans before the start of the New World. They were weak and imperfect.
After being resurrected from extinction, scientists replicated their DNA and spliced desired
chromosomes from desirable features of other organisms. What you are seeing is the genetic
splicing operation. These new dolphins are much more superior and can survive alongside
human industry and withstand pollution, whereas the previous dolphins could not. Now the
conservationists are happy, and the big developers are happy.”
But the dolphins aren’t happy … Liu thought. “And I am not happy – both with their
treatment and mine! This perfect society you speak of … is it really worth it to sacrifice so
many lives to create this perfect, balanced society? I’d rather we went back to the nuclear wars
where life was at least sacred!”
“No matter. You will not have an opinion after this operation. Yes, we shall remove your
flaws of stubborn sentiment and imprecision in your work. In our current society, there is no
space for imperfection. There is too much competition and pressure to maintain a perfect,
balanced society. There is no space for weeds like you. Besides…”
The soul named Liu was dying.
“… isn’t the public better off not knowing? Isn’t it better not to upset the perfect balance
the government has created? One has always known that to achieve a perfect society,
sacrifices must be made, right?
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The River’s Letter to an Orphan
Louise Yung, 15, Renaissance College Hong Kong
E
ver since I was born, I have always loved to stay by the Yangtze River all day. The rush
of water amongst the tranquillity of the mountains, the smooth waves in between the
rough gorges ... I spend all day counting the number of peaks in the region, spend all
day counting my small footsteps as I make my way up the mountains; yet try as I might, I can’t
measure how long the river is.
I wonder: where does the river stretch to? Is it trying to reach, endlessly, for its family too?
“Yang!” The lingering note of Zhu’s call, drifting along the night’s icy cold breath, breaks
through my thoughts and drags me back to reality. Zhu is an old widower in the village, and
has raised me ever since I was five. He claims to be my uncle, but I can never know for sure.
My parents aren’t here to confirm, after all.
In an attempt to shake the thought away, I quickly divert my gaze at the water, and glance
at the letter that I have preciously held in my hand. After folding my letter along its old creases
and pocketing it carefully, I begin my walk back to the village. As I walk up the path alone, I
still cast occasional backward glances at the river; it seems to have a mysterious, sad aura. One
that I feel connected to.
Eventually, I reach the house that I share with Zhu. Zhu is standing in the usual corner of
the house, stirring some spicy dinner in the old cooking pots and pans. Scratching his white,
wiry hair, he seems very tired as he leans his bad leg against an old shelf.
“Zhu,” I say as I close the door behind me, signalling to him that I am back. Zhu lets out
a weary laugh, “Yang, don’t call me Zhu. That is not a respectful way to address your uncle.
You should call me Uncle Zhu.” I turn my back to him and take off my coat. “Mama and papa
aren’t here. No one else is here to prove anything. I don’t have a family, so I don’t really know
whether you are my uncle or not.”
After pouring the spicy porridge into a bowl, Zhu slowly approaches me, creating dull sounds
on the wooden floor as he drags his bad leg across. He quietly replies, “We are your family.
Everyone in the village is. They care for you, they love you.” I merely shrug and go along with
what he has just said as I slowly eat my dinner. But my family is long gone. The instant mama
and papa’s bodies went cold, I became an orphan. An orphan is someone without a family.
Shortly after dinner, we hear sounds of laughter out on the paths from the opened
windows. Zhu hurries me out, telling me to join my ‘friends’ as the villagers gather for
entertainment. I don’t really have friends. I do have one or two classmates who tend to talk to
me, eat lunch with me, and we do play games occasionally. Yet I don’t see them as friends. I am
someone not worthy of love. I am an orphan.
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***
Before I leave the house, Zhu wraps me up in thick layers of clothing, and presses his flaky
lips to my forehead as he whispers, “Have fun, Yang. I’ll be there shortly.” Glad to approach
the river again, I quickly wipe the remaining trace of warmth off my forehead and run towards
the gathering crowd of villagers around the campfire near the river.
The children are all playing with firework sticks, all emitting their own sparkles in the
night; several villagers see me standing alone, and have thrust several sticks into my hands,
patting my head softly as they hint that I join the fun.
Of course, later in the night, more adults will gather. My classmates will all wave goodbye
to me, and turn to cuddle close to their mamas and papas, wrapping their arms around them
to keep themselves warm from the cold night wind ... slowly falling into sweet dreams as the
grown-ups crowd around the fire to chat.
During these times, I will pretend that I don’t care, and walk down as close to the river
as possible. At night, others may try to stay away from the icy waters and turn to embrace the
warm fires and hugs instead; but I am different. I don’t mind coming down here. I don’t mind
keeping the river company. It is alone, and I am too.
The river has a misty blue tint to it, and as I crouch down to reflect my emotionless face on
its currents, the same question strikes me again. Sometimes, I wonder where the river stretches
to? Look to the left, and you still see its muddy waters; look further, and you will see a thin
line of greyish blue. Look to the right, and it is the same long stretch of currents.
Is it waiting for something too? Stretching endlessly, yet still not reaching for that one
thing it desires?
Tired from constantly crouching down, I lie down on the cold grass and once again find
myself staring at the faraway cliffs on the other side of the river; those rocky surfaces with the
occasional caves, with dark holes that not even the moonlight can invade. I’ve heard stories.
Stories of our ancestors, from the Ba civilisation, who placed the dead in wooden coffins and
had them sit up on the cliffs overlooking the Yangtze River. To them, the Yangtze is their
home, no matter whether they are living or dead.
I stretch my arm towards the direction of the cave and close my palm, as if trying
to catch hold of the spirits. Yet I catch nothing except the cold air. The caves seem to be
unreachable up on the cliffs. The dead seem to lie so silently, so isolated from us, the living.
Yet I wonder if papa and mama are up there too? I wonder, if they feel lonely too? Do they
still worry about me?
I close my eyes and reach into my pocket for the letter I’ve put there earlier, a letter that
I’ve written when young ... words that I’ve crumpled up and shoved into rubbish bins countless
times, yet still never fail to retrieve. A letter written to my parents on the day they died, seven
years ago.
“Yes, that’s old Zhu’s boy. Poor kid, I am worried!” “Such a young age! Ever since his
parents left him...” “My boy says that he sometimes finds him crying silently. Let the poor
boy heal his wounds…” The voices of the seemingly faraway villagers linger in the night air.
Too bad they are all lies. My parents have not left me. Before they closed their eyes, before
their hands went cold, they promised me that they would watch over me. I do not cry silently,
either. I am a man; in fact, I am already 12. Papa’s boy would not cry so easily. Hugging myself
tightly, I rock myself to the sounds of the river, and use lies to mend my own heart.
Still unable to calm down the unease in my stirred mind, I tighten my grip on the letter,
and from the corner of my eye, notice a plastic bottle disposed nearby. I slowly pick up the
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bottle and brush away the soil on top. Papa, mama, please. Come back and tell them that
they are wrong. Tell them that I am loved, that I don’t need them to pity me. I shove my
letter into the bottle, screw the top tightly, and throw it into the river, allowing the currents
to carry it away.
I hold my hands tightly together, close my eyes and recite the letter’s content in my mind:
Dear River, are you waiting for someone too? I am, so you may understand how I feel. It
seems as though you can travel a long way; I mean, I can’t even see the end of the river from
where I am standing! If you can, do you mind looking for my parents along the way? It seems
as if they got lost. I mean, I can still see them, their bodies and such, but they are cold, hard
and smelly. I can’t even cuddle them now. The adults say that they are dead, and so I ask
them: Where do the dead go? Is it far from the village? When will they be back? The adults
won’t answer, which is really mean of them. Papa had once said that promises can’t ever be
broken, and he has promised me that I will always be loved and watched over. That means
that they’ll come back, right? Find them for me, and tell them, I am still waiting in the village.
I want to be loved. Yang.
A sudden rustle in the bushes behind me has disrupted my thoughts; a sound of a muffled
step. Yet when I turn around, there is no one there. I quickly rub my eyes and make my way
back to Zhu’s home.
***
The next morning, I have woken up early as usual, but am surprised to see Zhu up as well,
brewing something in the kitchen. Just as I am about to leave the house for school, he drapes
a large coat on me and hesitates before saying, “Today’s Parents Day at school, isn’t it? I’ll be
there shortly.” I remain silent, and just nod before leaving the house. It doesn’t really matter to
me. I am intending to skip school today.
Yet when I leave the house, I see two of my classmates standing outside. “Yang!” One of
them, Chan, smiles as he shoves a lunchbox into my hands, “Today’s going to be chilly. Mama
has told me to bring this to you. She says that you are too thin for a healthy boy!” “True,” my
other classmate, Shing, says as he jokingly punches me on the shoulder, “Hey, do you want to
play with us today after school?”
I hasten my footsteps and shake my head, “No, sorry. Zhu ... just now, he has just
asked me to do something for him. Yeah, I can’t come. Sorry.” After a moment of silence,
Shing asks softly, “Are you thinking of skipping school today?” I jokingly reply, “It’s
Parents Day. It would be pretty meaningless for me to go.” Surprisingly, the two of them
do not exchange worried looks, but merely glance at each other excitedly, “Then you will
be down by the river?”
I nod suspiciously, and wave slowly at their friendly smiles as I walk the opposite way
from where the school is. I am an orphan. An orphan without a family does not deserve any
friends either, you see. I am quite a burden to them. I bet they are forced to look after me, just
because I am a pitiful child. I don’t want them to look at me like that. I’d rather be alone.
I lie down on the grass beside the river, and find myself gazing at the distant caves up on
the cliffs again. I don’t want to look at the river, and be reminded of my stupid act from last
night. I should be old enough now to understand that it is impossible to get a response just by
throwing a letter down the river.
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After taking a long nap, I decide that it is about time to return home now. I stand up and
brush the grass away from my pants; yet as I am about to leave, I suddenly catch a glimpse of
shimmering white.
A plastic bottle is floating down by the river, but it is now slit opened with a fresh piece of
folded paper inside. I jerk my head towards the direction of the caves. Mama? Papa?
My mind is immediately blinded by the flash of white. As I race after the plastic bottle,
even treading into the mud in my feverish attempt to get closer, my knees are scraped by the
rocks. Yet I can’t stop. I can’t stop crying, and I can’t stop racing after this hint of hope. This
hint of family, of someone that cares for me.
“Careful!” A deep, male voice rings beside my ears. A scent of dust and spices, the
familiar sound of muffled footsteps. Before I realise, a warm arm wraps itself across my waist
and stops me from toppling into the river. It is Zhu.
I struggle harder as I see the bottle drifting away, but he holds me strongly. “It’s mama and
papa! It’s my only family!” I shout. Zhu holds me tighter, and I am surprised to feel droplets of
tears falling down to touch the back of my hand. He speaks in a croaky voice, “I have caught
and read your letter last night. I wrote that letter! I am your family. Everyone is your family.
Why can’t you see that?”
I stand there, feeling shocked and numbed, not only because of what Zhu has just said, but
also at the scene of more and more plastic bottles drifting along the current. A sea of plastic
white, all with letters inside. Even from this distance, I can see the scribble of pencil on all of
the papers in different handwritings. From the hand of teachers, from the hand of classmates,
from the hand of villagers ... from the hand of friends? Standing behind this scene is the large
crowd of those who have written the letters; they all wave to me with warm smiles on their
faces, like the shimmering rays amongst the waves of the river.
Shing shouts out to me with a beaming smile, “Yang! We’ve heard everything from Zhu.
Please don’t just ignore all of this; everyone has written their replies to you, all in their best
handwriting!”
It seems to me that this scene is the reply that I have gotten from the river. I turn around,
and embrace Zhu tightly. Then, Shing joins in. More and more people begin to join the group
hug, as the bottles continue to drift along the currents until they reach the sea. The sea is the
river’s home. We have all found our families.
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The Spirit of the Yangtze River
Tai Wei Chen, 16, Singapore International School (Suzhou)
A
long time ago, China was fighting against invasion by the Mongolians. The Mongolian
cavalry was strong, but ruthless. They conquered many cities of China, and they
massacred the people in all the cities they destroyed.
One day, the Mongolian troops travelled to Hubei, a city on the banks of the Yangtze
River. The scenery of the Yangtze River is marvellous; it is decorated with the great mountains
of China, and cranes gracefully flying and singing over the rainbow. It is the paradise of China,
a paradise for the Chinese people, but not when the innocence of the river turns bloody, not
when the joyous laughter of the children becomes the screaming of fear, the squealing of death,
or the mourning for others.
It was a nightmare, it truly was. Toddlers were being pierced through by the spears of
the cavalry, being lifted and tossed around, the wickedest game that inspired the creativity of
the devils. The women, who used to be kind and generous, reading stories to their children
before they went to bed, pleasing their husbands by preparing wonderful dinners after they had
finished their work on the farmland, were now being raped in the streets and being killed for
trying to refuse. It was ugly and brutal, and yes, it was what war was like, the rawness of war.
“They are coming. I can hear the horses trotting,” said the boy.
“Do not make any sound,” his dad whispered. The sound of the horses came closer and
closer. Boom! The door was kicked open and two Mongolian soldiers barged in. One was fat
and one was skinny.
“If there is anyone hiding in this house, you’d better come out now. Otherwise you will
regret it when you are found,” the fat soldier shouted in broken Chinese.
It was quiet, and the soldiers thought that it was an empty house. “Mice are quick at
running away,” said the tall soldier. Just as the two soldiers were about to leave the house,
a slight trembling sound from the closet caught their attention. The fat soldier reacted
immediately. He dashed to the closet and kicked down the door, with a speed unexpected
because of his size. At a glance, he saw an old man, with two young girls and one young boy
crowding each other in the small closet. The younger girl was trembling, as a lamb seeing a
wolf, the fear obvious on her face. She was holding back tears, the intense atmosphere not
allowing a sudden outburst of emotion. The room seemed filled with the smile of the two
Mongolian wolves, saliva flowing from their lips.
“Gosh, they are cute”, said the fat soldier, staring at the girls.
“You can take the younger one. I will take this one,” and saying that, the tall soldier
grabbed the older girl out of the closet.
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“Don’t touch her!” The young boy stood up and crashed into the tall soldier. The soldier
almost lost his balance with the unexpected strike. Enraged, he pulled his sword out of his
sheath, and pierced it through the boy’s breast, felling the boy.
The old man said, “You can’ take my daughters away, please!”
“You have no choice,” said the fat soldier.
“No! Help me, dad! Help!” shouted the younger girl.
“Dad! Please!” shouted the elder sister. The two soldiers grabbed the girls by their waists,
and strode out of the house laughing.
The old man quietly took the knife he had hidden in his pocket, and ran toward the soldiers.
By the time the tall solder reacted, the knife had already pierced his back. He screamed with pain
and went down. The old man was waiting for this moment when the soldiers might be careless,
and he made his kill on the tall soldier. The fat soldier again reacted with unexpected speed. He
jumped and rolled and leapt up again, with sword in hand, and lunged to avenge his comrade. The
old man was clearly defenceless and the sword pierced his chest. He rolled his eyes, slumped to
the floor, and died. The old man did not save his daughter, but he tried his best with his wisdom
to fight against the devil. The fat soldier escaped with his agile body, and grabbing both the girls
to him, laughed with the voice of a beast while he strode out of the house.
After a long time, the boy opened his eyes, and his ears sensed the silence. Despite the
pain in his body, he saw something that stunned him, and he was pretty sure that he was
dead, because he saw an angel, an angel with a smile on her face, and yes, it was an angel,
because there was light surrounding her, and she was so pretty, so pretty that she stole his
heart in a second.
“What is your name?” the angel asked.
“Am I dead? My name is Wei. How about you? Does an angel even have a name?”
The girl chuckled, “I am not an angel. My name is Tian Tian. I just walked past here, and I
saw you injured. How do you feel now?”
The boy looked at his breast, and saw it was well wrapped. He said, “Thank you. You
saved my life. I feel less pain now.”
“Why were you hurt so badly?” Tian Tian asked in an innocent voice.
Wei briefly told the story, and then he said, “I have to find my sisters; they are going to be
tortured, and where is my dad? Is he okay?”
The girl was silent for a moment, and said, “Your dad did not live, I am sorry. I buried him
in the backyard.”
The boy was stunned by the news, and after a few seconds he cried and screamed for the
loss of his own father. The girl did not speak, because she knew that he needed the emotional
outburst to release what he had suffered.
After a long time, the girl finally broke the silence, “So what do you think? Do you want to
save your sisters and take revenge for the death of your father?”
“I will, and I have to. My sisters are my best friends. They took care of me, so did my
father. I have to save them, and take revenge for him.”
“Yes, that sounds good, but how? There is no way you can fight against the Mongolians by
yourself alone.”
“You’re right, Tian Tian. The only way we can do this is to unify all the Chinese people to
fight against the Mongolians.”
“That’s right, Wei. See, now the Mongolians want to build an empire in China, and the
people are suffering badly. Why don’t we get all the Chinese people in one spot, and fight
against the Mongolians?”
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“All right, so we should get all the Chinese people together first, and let them understand
that if we do not fight back, we are just going to live under repression and the fear of massacre
for the rest of our lives!”
A melody was heard. “Look at the sky, look at the mountains, China was great with peace
and joy. We were united, we were tough, and China was the paradise of the earth. China
was green and bright, but now it is turning bloody and fearsome. We can get our peace and
happiness back if we stand up to the Mongolians. We can be strong again. We just need a
leader. We just need a guide, to put us back on track, to lead us to the light. We have hope, and
we will never give up. We are the Han, we are the greatest, and we will always be.”
“Wow, Tian Tian, you are quite good at singing.”
“Listen, Wei. We need you to be our leader; we need you to lead us. You are going to be
the person who brings us out of this repression.”
“Tian Tian, am I that capable?”
“Wei, so you mean you don’t want your sisters back?”
“No, I do! You’re right, Tian Tian. We should stand up and outwit the devil, to save our
people, and prove the spirit of the Han!”
It was a sunny day, the sky was bright and it was cloudless. It was silent; the only thing you
could hear was the hearts of the Chinese people pounding. They might not even know how to
fight; they might not even dare to kill someone. But the savagery of the devil turned them into
warriors; the massacres of the cities turned their joy into rage. They were now the Chinese
people who knew how to fight back. They were now the Chinese people who knew how to
defend their own country.
Wei rallied his troops. He raised his sword and shouted fearlessly, “It is time to get our
dignity back; it is time for us to kick the devil out of our country. We are the Han, and we are
the greatest! Let’s draw our swords and enjoy the taste of the blood of the invaders!”
There was no question of victory or defeat, the momentum of the soldiers proved the
answer to be the prior. There was no fear of death, but the bravery of honour.
Wei led the troops and crashed into the Mongolian cavalry, who had the reputation of being
undefeatable. Now they were being struck and knocked down with fear. They could not believe
what they were seeing. The Chinese people, whom they had played with like toys, tortured with
evilness, now, with their swords and looks of determination, were fighting back with such power.
The Mongolians were defenceless. They scattered like bees, ran with wet boots, full of
urine, but they couldn’t escape, despite how hard they tried. The rage of the great nation hunted
them down like poor dogs, and they were not wolves anymore. They were now ducking around
with such terror, and it was the end of the story of the ambition of the Mongolians. They were
crushed, and the Chinese were the ones standing till the end.
After 200 years of pain and despair, the Chinese people finally avenged their nation. They
grew from divided to united, they grew from cowards to warriors, and now, the land of China
is not bloody and nasty as before. It is green and lively with the singing of birds, with the joy of
the people.
The water of the Yangtze River is not full of blood anymore; it is now clean and limpid.
You can see the fish swimming nimbly; you can feel the love of the water. It now shines with
peace. There will be no more fighting. There will be no more killing. It is at peace.
“Tian Tian, thank you for inspiring me and letting me know how important it is to save my
people, to unify them. And thank you for letting me know what I should do to make it happen.
You got rid of the uncertainty in my heart; you pushed me to accomplish what I have done,”
Wei said with gratitude.
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Tian Tian smiled and nodded, “It is you who has done everything; it is you who did what had
to be done. You are the hero of China.” Tian Tian hugged Wei and gave him a kiss on the lips.
Wei hugged Tian Tian tightly, and kissed her again and again, and it was the best moment
of Wei’s life. Wei didn’t want to let it go.
“Wei, there is something I have to tell you.”
“There are no secrets between you and me,” Wei said with a smile on his face.
Then a strange thing happened. Tian Tian’s body started to disappear, shocking Wei.
“What is happening to you, Tian Tian. Why is your body disappearing?
There were tears flowing from Tian Tian’s face. She was trembling, and Wei hugged her
even tighter.
“Tian Tian! Tell me, what is going on with you? There are no secrets between us. Tell me,
huh?” Wei asked with an anxious face.
“Wei, listen. I am actually the spirit of the Yangtze River. The Mongolians turned the river
bloody, and there was no joy. I had to save the people, and I knew that you were the one who
was going to save the Chinese land; I knew that you were the one who was going to bring hope
to the country. I came down to the mortal world to let you know who you are, and let you know
what you had to do. Now I have finished my job and I have to go back to where I belong. Wei, I
am not a human being. I have to go…”
“No! I don’t care if you are the spirit of the Yangtze River or whoever you are, do not leave
me alone! You are the person who has made me who I am today, and you know that I love you!
Do not go, Tian Tian! Don’t leave me!” Wei choked back sobs, his eyes full of tears. He was
not ready for the separation, but it had to happen.
“Wei, I have to go. Find a girl who is better than I am. My blessings are with you for your
safety, and for your true love. Wei, goodbye. I am sorry for not telling the truth, but I will never
forget you, forget what you have done. You will always be my best friend…” Tian Tian kissed
Wei for the last time, and it was time to go. Tian Tian disappeared, leaving behind the peace of
China, the limpidity of the Yangtze River, tears, the love of Wei, and his pining.
Wei cried non-stop. He could still feel her lips, her warmth. But the truth was, Tian Tian
was gone, and it had to happen. After Wei had accomplished so much, dedicated so much to
his country, to the happiness of his people, he had lost his love, leaving him hollow, his heart
empty. But that is life. You never know what is going to happen, but when it does happen, it
might be joyful, it might be sad, but you can never know. That is life.
The Yangtze River is now as beautiful as always, decorated with the great mountains of
China, and cranes gracefully flying and singing over the rainbow. It is the paradise of China,
and the spirit of Yangtze River blesses the Chinese land, the people, and Wei, the hero of China.
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Group 5
Fiction, Group 5
The Rising of the Date
Christopher Lo Ting Ho, 11, Korean International School - Springboard
I
n 1545, a group of Japanese people known as the Date landed at the Yangtze River. Once
they landed, they pillaged the nearby villages. The Date was an aggressive clan and did
not make friends easily. At the same time, a clan called the Tokugawa was also arriving
at the Yangtze River with the idea of building a life, trading and farming in a new China. The
Tokugawa was led by a mighty, prosperous and wise man named Iesada.
When the Tokugawa heard that the Date had arrived at the Yangtze River, they armed a
fleet and set off for battle. A stand-off began that would last for many years. During this time
the Ming emperor allowed Iesada to stay in China and let him build a fortress. This opened up
trade between Japan and China.
When the leader of the Date, the evil Hindermune found out, he began a campaign of
terror, burning down Chinese villages and enslaving the citizens. Hindermune and his men had
weapons called Matchlock guns that they had got in trade with the Europeans. They arrived at
where Iesada and the Tokugawa had made their fortress on the Yangtze River and made camp
on the banks across them. The siege had begun.
The siege went on for many months and the Tokugawa became more and more desperate.
They needed provisions of food, weapons and fresh water. A Chinese man who worked in
the fortress volunteered to lead a militia to get the provisions that were needed. The man was
called Qin Sho Mi. The militia set off during the night and crossed the Yangtze and soon
arrived at the Date’s camp. They found where the weapons, food and fresh water were kept and
slaughtered every Date warrior that they encountered. Qin Sho Mi and the militia made it back
across the river back to the fortress as heroes with fresh provisions.
When Hindermune found out about the theft of his goods he was furious and ordered an
attack on the Tokugawa fortress. The siege cannons fired and took the walls down. Then the
Date warriors got out of their boats and climbed over the ruins and began battle with their
enemy. It was a bloody fight with 4,000 troops dying in the first hours. The Date had already
stormed the first level of the fortress and soon took control of the gates. Then the news came
that Iesada, the leader of the Tokugawa, had been fatally injured. It was a huge blow for the
Tokugawa, nobody was in charge to give the orders. No one until Qin Sho Mi stepped up. He
took fifty of the fiercest militia and attacked the Date from behind their lines. Many of the Date
generals lost their lives and soon the generals that were left sounded the horns of retreat. The
battle was over. When the Ming Emperor got word that his friend Iesada had been murdered in
battle, he sent his navy to destroy the Date.
The Japanese fleet was no match for the Chinese warships and were put to a watery grave.
The evil Hindermune escaped, but his army was so defeated that he never came back to the
Yangtze River again. Qin Sho Mi became the new leader of the Tokugawa and sent the body
of Iesada back to Japan to be buried in the town where he was born. The Tokugawa stayed in
China and set up home on the Yangtze River, where they remain to this day.
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Non-Fiction
Group 1
Non-Fiction, Group 1
The Yangtze River
Nick Choi, 8, Po Leung Kuk Hong Kong Taoist Association Yuen Yuen Primary School
T
he Yangtze River is the longest river in Asia, and the third longest river in the world.
It flows for 6,418 km, from the Tibetan Plateau in Qinghai eastward across southwest,
central and eastern China before emptying into the East China Sea at Shanghai. Even
its Chinese name means ‘long river’, being next only to the Nile in northeast Africa and the
Amazon in South America. The Yangtze River drains one-fifth of China’s land area and its
river basin is home to one-third of China’s population. The Yangtze River is an important
physical and cultural dividing line between north and south China.
In recent years, the Yangtze River has suffered from industrial pollution, agricultural runoff, and the loss of wetland and lakes, which exacerbates seasonal flooding. It feeds the great
Chinese nation, so it is considered to be the ‘Mother River’ of China. For over two centuries
the Yangtze River has served as a transportation highway and commercial thoroughfare. The
Yangtze River is also used for sightseeing.
Every year the Yangtze River deposits massive amounts of silt that helps make up the
Jiangsu Province, a large plain used to grow rice. For thousands of years, man has used the
river for water, irrigation, sanitation, transportation, industry, boundary marking and war.
The Yangtze River is near the Huang He River. The Yangtze River is also home to some rare
and endangered fish species. The climate ranges from 96 degrees in the summer to cold, brisk
temperatures in the winter. Precipitation is high due to the height of the mountains.
In 1995, construction began on the Three Gorges Dam near Yichang and was completed
in 2008. It is about 600 feet high and about 1.5 miles long. The dam is expected to help control
the flooding of the Yangtze River Valley. The Yangtze River is revered for its role in providing
sustenance to those who inhabit its banks. For thousands of years, these people have tilled its
fertile plains, fished its deep pools and navigated its channels, reaping its benefits as a conduit
of trade. It is no wonder the river is considered ‘China’s lifeline’.
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Non-Fiction
Group 2
Non-Fiction, Group 2
An Amazing Encounter
by the Yangtze River
Bettina Tiannan Pan, 11, Lingnan University Hong Kong Alumni D.S.S. Primary School
Research station by the river bank
I cannot forget what I witnessed by the river bank a few summers ago. We went to a vegetable
research station for a special assignment with my dad and some visiting scientists. It was
located up-stream of the Yangtze River.
It was a sunny day with a friendly breeze dancing through the trees and flowers. My sister
and I did not have much to do while my dad was working on his projects in the greenhouse. So
we went to the dock to fish in the late afternoon.
Incredible catch
After a long wait and lots of chitchat with my mum and my sister, the fishing line suddenly had
a very strong pull! I almost lost the rod and luckily my mum was there to help. However, the
pull was so strong that she also had difficulty hanging on!
Suddenly, there was an old nervous worried voice pleading, “Please help…!” We were
very surprised and terrified to hear the voice from the bottom of the dock without being able to
see who it was.
Mum quickly asked, “Who are you and where are you? What happened?”
“I am Esther, queen of the Chinese sturgeons. My little naughty grandson is trapped on
your fishing hook. Please release him and do not eat him! Little Junior is only a baby although
he weighs more than 30 pounds.” We were all stunned to hear a giant talking fish.
Esther continued, “We have been living and evolving in this mighty river for more than
100 million years. We are the largest ancient fish here, living on earthworms and river clams.
We can live for 50 to 60 years and grow to reach 5 metres long, weighing up to 1,000 pounds.
Please release my grandson and I will tell you about what has happened to our kingdom.”
We quickly promised to release little Junior as the great sturgeon is harmless, and we
continued to talk to Esther.
Kingdom of the Chinese sturgeon
We learned that the Chinese sturgeon fry grow up after hatching, swimming down-stream
towards the river mouth of the Yangtze River. After reaching maturity they will migrate about
3,200 km upstream to lay eggs in clean waters. Year after year, generation after generation, the
cycle continues, and the Sturgeon kingdom has lived happily in this abundant river for millions
of years.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Silence killing
“Until recently, when the human race began catching us for their big dinner. This ancient cycle
has been blocked by the Gezhouba dam and other subsequent dams,” continued Esther. “All the
relatives and families were separated by dams and now we never get to see each other. These
dams caused great hurdles in our upstream path for egg-laying in a suitable environment,
therefore putting the future of the species into serious trouble.”
She told us that heavy shipping traffic, over-fishing, and water pollution from nearby
factories have also plagued the Yangtze River waters, which is bringing down the great
sturgeon population tremendously.
Making a difference
In a very deep voice, Esther said, “If mankind and the environment continue to threaten us as it
is now, we will become extinct very soon.”
We asked, “Why do you tell us your sad story and what can we do to help?”
Esther replied, “We know that this is a research station with lots of kind-hearted scientists
and they very much value nature and life. We believe that you are also kind-hearted and
willing to help in our survival.”
We felt very sad hearing the story of Esther and her kingdom and promised her that we
would tell the story to more people so that they can join the effort to help in the survival of this
great talking fish.
To the rescue
Over dinner that night we shared this encounter with my dad and other great scientists of the
country. They were all very touched by the story of the Chinese sturgeon going extinct. They
all promised to help preserve the lives of the sturgeon in the Yangtze.
Many more visiting scientists every year passed by this station and many more people
heard of the story and some even met with Esther and heard from her.
Many of the scientists had promised to help and talked to lots of politicians and businessmen,
then came up with many programs and policies to protect the Chinese sturgeon. The programs
include setting up conservational educational aquariums for the sturgeon; pollution reduction at
factories; genetic breeding programs in up-stream areas and dams of the Yangtze.
As for me, I will continue to tell more people about the story of my encounter with Esther
and be more careful of what I eat and appreciate nature more.
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Non-Fiction, Group 2
The Heart of China
Elise Chen, 11, Yew Chung International School
W
ater is very important and precious to humans, from drinking to washing. However,
nowadays if you ask children, “Where does water come from?” they will probably
answer, “From a tap!” I am not saying that this answer is wrong, but why can’t
you think further? … I am sure that this story starts from a river. If you travel back to ancient
Egypt, people there needed the Nile for their existence, as they grew crops and they drank
from it. Even now, though technology is much more advanced, the Nile is still the main source
of drinking and fresh water. The Nile also helps Egyptians earn money through tourism.
How about the largest river in China and the third longest river in the world? From the
mountains on the Tibetan border, the Yangtze River flows 3,988 miles over the countryside
and cities before meeting the East China Sea. The Chinese people believe that China’s four
great rivers were formed by dragons. Before that, there was only the East China Sea, and
there wasn’t any rain for days. The four dragons helped the people to get water, but God was
not happy about this, so he punished them by trapping them with four big, heavy mountains.
Imprisoned as they were, they never regretted their actions. Determined to do good for the
people forever, they turned themselves into four rivers. From this legend, you can see that water
is priceless. If we don’t take care of it, we will not have enough for our needs. And this is the
case right now.
Pollution is the big enemy of our rivers and seas. Environmental experts fear that pollution
from untreated agricultural and industrial waste could turn the Yangtze River into a “dead
river” within five years. Pollution is mainly caused by toxic waste from factories, overfishing,
the huge population of China, and the poor arrangement of the waste management system in
the country. All of these will make flooding worse, which is definitely not a good thing.
On the other hand, building a reservoir is a problem itself. This is because the dam stops
any of this material being washed out to sea. Water quality in the Yangtze has become much
worse since construction of the dam began. The Yangtze River often overflows its banks
and fills huge plains with large amounts of water, causing terrible flooding. There are floods
every year during the June-September rainy season. On average, at least several hundred
people are killed in Yangtze River floods every year. Some years there are shocking floods.
The Yangtze is responsible for 70-75 percent of China’s floods, and that’s why we need to
control the pollution.
It also affects the life inside the river, like the Yangtze River dolphins, which can result in
tragedy. In 1979, the baiji was classified as endangered. In August 2007, it was officially declared
extinct. Why didn’t the government take action earlier? Allowing a beautiful large mammal that
has evolved over millions of years to disappear forever is such a waste of God’s creation.
It was over 100,000 years ago that human beings first lived in the Yangtze drainage area
– Lantian man, Changyang man and Yunxian man are all prehistoric Chinese ancestors. The
ancient human remains and skeletons of the Old and New Stone Ages have been discovered
along the river. People have been living there a long time, so we must save the river and give
our future generations a safe and peaceful place to grow up in. Let us not forget the four
dragons that helped us…
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Yangtze River
Meghana Vasantharao, 10, Singapore International School (Shanghai)
T
he Yangtze River is located in China. It is the third longest river in the world and the
longest in Asia. It flows for 6,418 kilometres from the Tibetan Plateau. There are many
states along the river, for example Qinghai, Tibet, Yunnan, Sichuan, Chongqing, Hubei,
Hunan, Jiangxi, Anhui and Jiangsu.
The Yangtze River is used in various ways. Here are some of them: for hydroelectric
power, fishing, transportation, watering crops, drinking and for washing clothes. These are
only a few of the many ways to use this river.
This river also provides an ideal habitat for species like the Chinese alligator, the finless
porpoise and the Chinese paddlefish. Many species become extinct in the Yangtze River and
the dire situation has raised some concern for environmentalists. The finless porpoise were
counted in 2010 and scientists found that there were only about 1,000 left. Contributing factors
for the extinction are tourists and pollution. In December 2006, the Chinese river dolphin was
declared extinct; fortunately, one was sighted soon after.
The Yangtze River has also caused trouble for the people along the riverside in the form
of floods. This caused a lot of damage and injuries to the people. As a preventive measure, the
Three Gorges Dam was built in order to minimize floods.
The three gorges are tall in height. They each have a name. The first one is called the
Qutang Gorge. It is 8 kilometres in length. The next one is called the Wu Gorge. It is 45
kilometres in length. The last one is called the Xiling Gorge. It is 66 kilometres in length. It
took a very long time to build the dam over these gorges. It is also the largest hydro-electric
power station in the world!
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Non-Fiction
Group 3
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Three Gorges
Arthur Wong Hon Sang, 15, St. Joseph’s College
S
ome say we can see the Great Wall of China from space, but we all know that isn’t really
possible. On the other hand, can you spot me?
I am the rapids of the Himalayan foothills; I am the steep gorges below the hilly terrain;
I am not the Yellow River, I am the Yangtze River, the third longest river in the world! For
decades, my body has toiled to bring people and goods back and forth. My backbone has been
supporting the neighbouring cities. My hands have been nurturing the agricultural land. My
spirit has been bringing prosperity to the entire region.
Judging by its Chinese name, ‘Yangtze River’ is read as ‘Long River’. It is long, really
long. It is a 6,418 kilometre stretch of constantly flowing, rushing water. Putting it into
perspective, it is the longest river in Asia and the third longest in the whole world, over 120
times the width of Hong Kong! Isn’t that amazing?
Where did the name ‘Yangtze’ come from? Actually, this river is named after one
of its cities along the lower part of the river, called Yangzhou. Yangzhou is one of the
riverbank cities that has been benefiting from the abundant offerings of the Yangtze River.
Throughout the years, Yangtze River has been the place for trade, transport and spiritual
pilgrimage, it has symbolised the development of China, from sustenance to affluence. For
thousands of years, the people of China have been reaping benefits from this conduit that is
‘China’s lifeline’.
In 1994, China embarked on the damming of the Yangtze under a 15-year project that
would result in the world’s largest dam and hydroelectric power plant. The construction of
the Three Gorges Dam reminded people of the building of the Great Wall of China in the
Qin Dynasty. The mighty ‘wall of defence’ marked the early stages of Chinese development.
Thousands of workers lost their lives in the process – a colossal task, built with wisdom,
dedication, blood, sweat and tears. The dam is the greatest engineering challenge since the
construction of the Great Wall. Like the Great Wall, the Three Gorges Dam stands for the
same unbeatable willpower in the face of bitter conditions. The spirit that shaped the Chinese
people continues to drive modern China today.
“The river is no longer seen as an unstoppable force but as a dragon which can be tamed
with science.”
PBS, ‘Great Wall Across the Yangtze’
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Non-Fiction, Group 3
The construction of the Three Gorges Dam has not been popular amongst civilians. Locals
have even referring to it as the most socially and environmentally destructive project of all
time. The building of the Three Gorges Dam marked the aims of modern China to become a
civilised, competent and technologically advanced country in the world. Is it true? That is the
controversial question.
The Three Gorges Dam of the Yangtze River aimed to provide around one-ninth of the total
electricity for consumption of China, having a great effect on energy supply. It promised to propel
the nation’s economy into the 21st century. The significant power generation with improved
flood control would bring immense benefit to the region. While the plan sounded attractive and
construction was carried out with the help of professionals, the consequences of building large
dams across rivers are largely irreversible. They deeply affect the ecology of the whole river,
the food chain of regional and endangered animals, and even interrupt the exchange within the
ecosystem. The outcome has not been limited to animals, but has represented a ‘ground zero’
largest peacetime evacuation in world history. Over a million people have been relocated, over a
thousand archaeological sites were submerged beneath the reservoir, and endangered species have
been driven to extinction. The monumental dam has been called the ‘New Great Wall of China’.
But now, has the powerful flow of Yangtze River been stopped by the flow of development?
China’s leaders and officials are optimistic that the operation of the Three Gorges
Dam will unleash the potential of undeveloped areas, boost trading and modernise China,
as engineers believe the power generated from the dam will be equivalent to 15 nuclear
electricity generating plants and the price is worth paying. These expectations are yet to be
met, but the enormous social and environmental costs have already been paid. Nevertheless,
many people in China believe that the building of the Three Gorges Dam has been a great
undertaking, that it will be a symbol of national pride, a stepping stone for China to evolve
into a country of international recognition, a modern, developed and advanced place, and a
leader in global economy.
Emerging from the glaciers and snow of the Himalayas, sculpting gorgeous gorges on
the way, the Yangtze River has served locals in the region for thousands of years, providing
them with fertile plains, deep fishing pools and extraordinary scenery. And now, paying an
enormous price, it has continued as a medium of trade, development and become a world focus.
This is a new chapter for the Yangtze River, a new era for ‘China’s lifeline’.
The Yangtze River moved on from being a strip of raging ribbon connecting the East and
the West to a significant development of national pride and a chance to gain ground over other
countries. Once again, it told the story of remarkable sacrifice and technological advancement
in the face of modernisation and globalisation.
“This equilibrium is the great root from which grow all the human acting in the world, and
this harmony is the universal path which they all should pursue.”
Confucius, Doctrine of the Mean
Every single day, the new story of Yangtze weaves on: building versus nature; heritage
versus modernisation; change versus conservation; a complex string of contending forces are
striving to co-exist. We need the foresight and courage to confront problems that are brought
about by the wheel of changes. We shall take heed of what we destroy in the process of what
we achieve. The Yangtze River is a pivot between environment and industry. We ought to make
use of our wisdom in the act of progress. This is the ‘New Tale of Yangtze River’ – to preserve,
to progress and to balance.
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Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Yangtze River
Charles Leung Tik Ho, 13, Yew Chung International School
F
or thousands of years, the Chinese civilization has depended heavily on the Yangtze
River. Although now not very significant in culture, the Yangtze was one river the
Chinese could not live without. Along with the Yellow River, the Yangtze can proudly
assert that it is the most important river in the history and culture of China.
If you are Chinese or are of Chinese descent, you can be sure that you would not exist if it
were not for this river. Allow me to show you the enormous cultural impact on your lives the
river has, which you may not even know about.
Human activity dating to about 27,000 years ago was found near the Yangtze River, long
before the ancient Chinese civilization. Those humans were the ancestors of all Chinese
people. After a few thousand years they began to spread to all parts of ancient China, bringing
their diverse culture, which would be known as one of the earliest civilizations in history.
Many of the settlers used the Yangtze River as a transportation method to move to places in
China that their descendants are still living today.
By about 3,000 years ago many people had settled into cities. They set up a dynasty ruled
by an emperor. They could stay in one city and depend on their major source of food and
water: the Yangtze.
A large portion of the ancient Chinese civilization depended on the Yangtze’s irrigation
system for farming. Because the Yellow River frequently has severe floods, most farmers
chose to use the Yangtze. As a result, nearly all food was produced in this region. Agriculture
was very productive and China became wealthy, and the area close to the Yangtze was
especially rich.
It has been recorded in the Qing Dynasty that the Yangtze area generated nearly half of
China’s annual revenues, proving its significance in China’s economy.
There is an ancient Chinese proverb that says: “In the Yangtze River, waves push other
waves ahead; as in life new people constantly replace the old ones.” And indeed this is true,
even for the entire Chinese civilization. The Yangtze has undeniably pushed the Chinese
civilization from a primitive settlement to a huge, budding civilization with a diverse culture
that survives to this present day.
Today, the Yangtze is the home to two huge hydroelectric dams, and one of them, the
Three Gorges Dam, is the largest in the world, and there are more being constructed. The dams
generate about five per cent of China’s total electricity. Here, we have another great use for our
river – a green energy source. This dam, and also the river, has a great responsibility – it also
serves as a backup in case of power plant failure.
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Non-Fiction, Group 3
The Yangtze is also home to some unique species of animals such as the Chinese alligator
and the now extinct Chinese river dolphin.
The Yangtze brought us here. However, we are destroying it with our industry. Every year,
thousands of tonnes of pollution and chemicals are pumped into the Yangtze, and if that wasn’t
enough, the Yangtze is a major shipping channel. As a result, the Chinese river dolphin is
extinct – and other unique species critically endangered.
I am not asking you, dear reader, to personally save the Yangtze, though I would
kindly ask that you, now aware of the significance and importance of the Yangtze, use your
knowledge and utmost ability to tell others about it. Ask them to spread the word and perhaps
one day many people will realise that the Yangtze is very important, not only economically
and industrially, but it is home to some of the world’s most exotic and unique animals. That
being said, I wish that the Yangtze and its inhabitants will have a promising future that will be
preserved by the efforts of all China.
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Poetry
Group 1
Poetry, Group 1
You Are the Yangtze
Kinsey Fong, 7, Kingston International School
You are a magician,
Who makes people’s lives amazing
Endless war days end,
Constant development begins.
People shout, “Hooray!”
You are a fighter,
Who pushes the boats,
Sail along the narrow river,
Rush down the mountains,
Without fear.
People exclaim, “Bravo!”
You are a kind mother,
Who feeds the needy,
Who cares for the sick,
Who protects the weak,
People say, “Thanks!”
You are a friendly dragon,
Welcoming all the friends
Who arrive here every second.
People cheer, “Yeah! Have fun!”
207
Poetry
Group 2
Poetry, Group 2
The Mighty Yangtze River
Alantha Zhang, 10, Clearwater Bay School
The mighty Yangtze River as long as can be,
Is an amazing sight for everyone to see.
Rowing down the river you hear monkeys shouting,
Wonderful peaks make you stop pouting.
The Goddess Peak shines as the tallest peak,
And there sits a dam called Three Gorges Dam.
Flowing through China and through the emerald peaks,
It is a marvellous dragon.
As the boat motors rumble on,
The dragon sounds like it’s trying to speak.
Do you know that poets in the past,
Were motivated by this nature’s wonder?
Do you know that Chinese heroes,
Have had kingdoms here to conquer?
Do you know that the Yangtze River,
Is as long as China’s history?
Now all the glory has been washed away,
As we humans have our way.
Dumping all sorts of rubbish in.
Dolphins and fish are already dead.
Polluting, polluting and polluting,
Won’t there be an ending?
Stop pouring waste into the river,
Stop being mean to the environment,
Or our water will lose its charm,
Nor will we hear the monkeys shout.
Try keeping the Yangtze River clean,
So one can enjoy it crystal clear!
209
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Melody of the Yangtze River
Carol Lam, 9, Bradbury School
I stand on the weathered, grassy banks of the Yangtze River.
It is dawn and the trees around me quiver.
The tuneful melody of water bubbling
And rhythmically sloshing
Fills my ears and makes me remember
Mama’s told-to-me childhood memory on a starry night in December.
“During the floods I had to carry the rice.
It was none but heavy and not very nice.
Ming and Sing, your uncles, carried spice.
Those floods were terrible, and they happened twice.
I was only five and seven those two times,
But those floods destroyed my trees of lime.
Three years later, the biggest blow came,
Nothing from then on would ever be the same.
A dam was going to be built.
The inaudible shock could be felt.
We would have to move home,
Move everything, even our combs.”
Now two different melodies greet my ears.
One is the splashing on the great white dam that was here
When I came. The other a soft melody that is just ... different.
Accompanying that is a sweet, musky scent.
Suddenly an alto voice sings.
I look around but see nothing.
The voice continues loud and clear,
It’s very pleasing to my ears.
210
Poetry, Group 2
“Ohhhhhhh ... I’m the Yangtze River!
When it’s winter my cold waters make you shiver.
I start at the top of a tall mountain,
And my water runs faster than that of a fountain.
I span 6,300 kilometres from Qinghai
To the coastal city of Shanghai.
And then I flow into the East China Sea.
For me it’s as easy as you can see!
But when it rained, I meant, really poured!
I could flood ... bolted your doors!
And when it didn’t rain
It’d be a drought ... I’d cause a pain!
That was in the past.
Technology develops fast.
Some people made a dam
But not in this an expert I am!”
The singing stops as suddenly as it came
I think of it as ‘the sound with no name’
But then another melody comes quick and fast.
This one is more rhythmic than the last.
This is bass-low and loud
This is quick-witted and proud.
“(Thump thump) Oh ho ... I’m the Three Gorges Dam!
Oh yes ... I am!
I’m in Hubei Province.
And I make the water dance.
I was made of concrete and stone.
Working so hard made the workers lie prone.
22,500 megawatts is my capacity.
I light up many cities.
I don’t just do that, you know,
I control flooding, message to floods: no, no, no!
Apart from flood control I also facilitate irrigation
I’m especially useful for watering rice plantations.
I can also be used for navigation, there are water locks.
And so that big boats can pass safely, there are no rocks.
But many a village had to be flooded for building me
It was a big sacrifice for them, you see.
Now I am here and working hard.
(Thump thump thump thump)”
211
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
“Darling, what leads you here?”
My mother’s voice rings loud and clear.
I say, “You lived here once, mother?”
She replies, “Yes, but now we live yonder.
We live in a big city
That’s ever so pretty.
But I will never forget my past.
Dusk is coming, let’s get to our boat fast.
We spent a whole day here, did you know?”
I shake my head. “The river talked to me, during its flow.”
As we leave I hear the bubbles, sloshes,
And the pounding splashes.
I hear the melody of the Yangtze River.
Yes, I hear the melody of the Yangtze River.
212
Poetry, Group 2
A Tale of Woe from
a Yangtze River Dolphin
Chrysanne Chow, 11, St. Paul’s Convent School
The first time I set my eyes on the waterways,
I thought the picturesque landscape was really ace.
To the multiple tributaries, over ten provinces cling,
From Qinghai to Shanghai, then Chongqing to Nanjing.
No ordinary dolphins were we, baiji of the Yangtze!
Once a princess, but drowned and reborn to be free.
Along the river we upheld love, peace and prosperity.
We then became a sign of charity – ‘Goddesses of Yangtze’!
Despite our legendary fame, our fate was the same.
Day in and day out, we played the most dangerous game.
To avoid the wicked hooks and motor blades that sting,
Dads and moms endeavored to train each precious offspring.
I treasured my many friends and a cousin called Annette.
One day we travelled miles from home, Hubei to Tibet.
While swimming upstream we came upon an engulfing net,
Everyone escaped in cold sweat, but no sign of Annette!
The disappearance of Jack and Jill, Phoebe and Phil,
Forever and always gave me indescribable chills.
Then came the day when Dad and Mom did not appear,
Then I knew dolphins had to be orphans in sad fear.
Amid the fisherman oars and engine roars we fought.
Over the deaths of partners we were distraught.
With little available prey we could barely stay.
Miserably the pack was forced towards doomsday!
In spite of our title as ‘national treasure’,
Humans were too greedy to take any measures.
Then came the sweet care when we became so rare.
Woe to baiji who had never lived a life that’s fair!
Looking now from heaven down to Earth,
A distance of six kilometres is the place of my birth.
We could only admire Yangtze standing out in clear relief,
A mighty river with no dolphins is the reason for our grief.
213
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Trekking Alongside
the Wonders of the Yangtze River
Hellas Lee, 10, Beacon Hill School
Trekking through the elevated plateau,
In Qinghai, Tibet.
Sensing an elongated, exquisite river nearby
Bringing country to city,
Plateau to the South China Sea.
From Qinghai to faraway Shanghai.
On the twisting bank I pace,
Leaving the country-styled plateau,
With antelopes leaping high above.
On to astonishing Sichuan,
A major agriculture production base,
That has survived a devastating earthquake.
While the river streams through eleven provinces,
In six thousand, four hundred and eighteen kilometres,
I cherish the experiences of the crystalline river water.
Travelling through all the provinces,
Experiencing the unique traditions,
Tasting the historical, cultural and economic developments.
Following the river on and on,
Until I approached a city leaving the waves behind,
It was Chongqing, a major city of southwest China,
One of the direct controlled municipalities,
And one of the national cities of China,
With the bustling sounds of people.
214
Poetry, Group 2
Not a long way afterwards,
I arrived at the Three Gorges Dam,
Recording all the history behind it.
The difficulties from floods caused by the river,
All minimised by the dam,
The destruction, injury and death prevented.
Finally at Shanghai,
The mouth of the river to the South China Sea,
Waves splashing near the city.
From the mouth, I see the distance I have come,
Memorizing the calmness and the agitated sounds
Of my journey alongside the Yangtze River.
215
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Time’s River
Kareem Abuali, 10, Kellett School
It flows through history in the East of China,
Its water sheds immaculate drops of time,
Glistening blue in the length of rhyme.
The rhyme runs forceful from the streams of Qinghai,
A journey of 6,300 kilometres to try.
Man was born and brought a change.
His needs gushing, using the river and all its ability.
How it suffered, but it is still standing,
And standing so powerfully.
In droughts, the river feels cursed by the sky,
No cloud would sprinkle its delicacies.
So man feeds it more,
Until the sky decides to pour.
The swollen river threatens the life of farms,
But no soul or body it harms.
It is anxious to be innocent and good,
Because the country has given it
Love.
The Three Gorges, in the midst of Chongqing and Yichang,
Is not known to be good or known to be bad.
Cultured temples along the banks eye streams swaying swiftly,
While some rest under its gentle surface.
The journey seeks another world,
It leaves a long path of discovery behind.
Every handful of water blessed by nature,
And only nature knows why,
Then the Yangtze River meets the sea at the edge of Shanghai.
216
Poetry, Group 2
The Life Force of China
Liam Fung, 10, Chinese International School
Oh, oh, oh, old Yangtze,
Your blue sparkling waters flow down the Tibetan mountains,
As you pass through countless towns and cities.
You meander gently through valleys and gorges.
Indeed, you change the lives of myriads of people.
Oh, oh, oh, old Yangtze,
You carve your way through dry, flat land,
And flood the plains.
You provide a life source for the Dongting and Poyang lakes.
You are our guardian.
Oh, oh, oh, old Yangtze,
Your waters snake through complicated crossings and canals,
As you weave through the waterways.
You start in Hukou and seek the estuary.
You make your way to the farmlands.
Oh, oh, oh, old Yangtze,
Your silt floods the farmlands with rich soil,
And your waters crash against the rocky cliffs.
You bring life to the soil.
You help the farmers place rice on their tables.
Oh, oh, oh, old Yangtze,
You reach as far as the East China Sea,
And unite the whole of China.
You stretch so far, as far as Shanghai, Nanking and Chungking.
You are our life.
China’s life.
217
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
A Yangtze Raindrop
Rory Thomas, 8, The French International School of Hong Kong
I’m a little raindrop falling through the air
A thousand friends are with me, it’s really quite a scare
Getting faster and faster, a hundred miles an hour
The wind howling all around us getting louder and louder
Splash! I’ve landed – I don’t know where I am
A river, I think, but which one I’ll have to wait and see.
Snowy mountains with tree-less slopes, it is really cold
The water is so icy, but here’s the sun blazing like gold
It’s getting warmer now and the mountains have become flat
Now I see people in small huts and animals too
Yaks, sheep and ponies eating in grassy fields
The mountains are in the distance now, reaching for the sky.
I’m moving at speed, and have travelled over 500 miles from the start
The air is warm, the river’s wide, I must be at its heart.
People cross the river in skin coracle boats
Herdsmen’s black wool tents line the banks, with sheep grazing around
Whilst many types of water birds look after their young and nests
Onward, through pine forests meadows and fields.
Faster and faster I go, foam rising from the bed
The sides of the river narrow, look out ahead!
Passing through gorges, I bounce from rock to rock
I’m scared, crushed and bashed against the sides
This way, that way, upside down, round and round
Miles and miles of rapids and rocks, when will it ever end?
218
Poetry, Group 2
It’s now so calm as I enter a lake
Moving along slowly, how long will it take?
Man-made dams have changed the landscape, it’s really quite unnatural
Stone, cement and concrete block my way
The waters dark here, changed by mud and silt
Big fish join me now, carp and sturgeon, look! A dolphin too.
Flowing steadily now I enter the land of fish and rice
Mulberry trees and stone bridges, it’s really quite nice.
Towns and villages spring up all around
Here the river is wide and deep by many, many feet.
Big boats from the ocean go back and forth all day
Freshwater crab play and shrimp dance all around.
Fifty plus miles wide at its mouth the river is right now
3,988 miles I’ve travelled, I don’t quite know how
The end is near; the Yellow Sea is now in sight
This journey has been my best so far, a shame it’s at its end
I’ve travelled the length of the mighty Yangtze River
China’s longest, widest, biggest and best.
219
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Life of the Yangtze
Ryan Mak, 12, Diocesan Boys’ School
Drop, drop – we are brave, beautiful raindrops
Fall from the sky into the Yangtze River
Join friends from the Tibetan Plateau top
March towards the sea with all our power.
Move, move – we pass Tibet, Sichuan, Yunnan
To Hunan, Anhui, Jiangsu and Shanghai
Bring good harvests to the fishermen
Provide fertile land so farmers’ yields are high.
Race, race – we race with the Yellow River
Bring prosperity to the Chinese economy
With luck we win as the longest river
Help to improve transportation swiftly.
Cry, cry – for the river is polluted
We will be angry and cause a great flood
Please do not make us contaminated
Since we will wash away the heavy mud.
Fall, fall – people enjoy the waterfall
For it is really grand and impressive
When the river pours from a place that’s tall
Creating a huge force that is massive.
Build, build – engineers build the Three Gorges Dam
Use the force for power to generate
To minimize floods that people condemn
And help large ocean liners navigate.
Flow, flow – we flow into the East China Sea
Slowly become relaxed under the sun
To turn into vapour that is once again free
High into the sky to become as one.
Drop, drop – we drop back into the Yangtze River
When the air cools us down in the bright sky
Again, our life cycle repeats over
And we start again our amazing ride.
220
Poetry, Group 2
The Dolphin That Rode on the Wind
Samantha Brooks, 10, Bradbury School
An air of sand on a mountain breeze,
A golden river twisting through the trees.
Old dolphins leap and dance and play,
While the Yangtze weaves on through the day.
Full of ancient history,
To us, the river’s a magic mystery.
After many years the splashing stopped,
The baiji dolphins no longer hopped.
Things had happened to make it change.
People came.
They came through day,
They came through night.
And the last baiji dolphin
Struggled to fight.
The people brought oil
The people brought ships.
Money was the word,
On everyone’s lips.
They came from places all over the world
And they had danger and death in their wake.
221
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Pollution wrapped the river
In her blanket of grey,
And the last of the sunlight
Drained out of the day.
They did not help it
They just watched it fall.
And the last baiji dolphin,
Was no more.
And to this very day today,
The dolphin on the wind has something to say.
People, if you’re listening now,
Hear this sad and tragic sound.
It comes deep from the depths of time
From when the forest of the Yangtze
Smelled of lemon and lime.
It happened centuries ago,
When the golden river was in full flow.
Pollution took what mattered most,
The weakened river was her host.
Gone was the wind
Gone was the sun.
Gone was the happiness and fun.
The Yangtze River had a tale to tell,
And I hope that I have told it well.
222
Poetry
Group 3
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
A Cloud I Am
Amy Ling Ching Man, 13, Po Leung Kuk No.1 W.H. Cheung College
A cloud I am, floating in the sky.
I don’t know how long I can fly.
I would so much love to see the world
Before I have to say goodbye.
Then it’s Wuchang by the Yangtze River;
I go to the Yellow Crane Tower.
I’m touched when thinking about the poem
Written by the great Tang Dynasty poet.
I start at the source of the Yangtze River,
That’s the Qinghai Tanggula glaciers.
The ice of the glaciers competes to glitter;
I will never forget its splendour.
The Oriental Pearl Tower catches my attention;
It’s shining under the sun.
Shanghai is a prosperous city;
Everybody is on the run!
‘A tiger is leaping across the rocks’;
He’s got a lot of energy to show off!
The tides surge rapidly over the rocks;
The flow and the foam they never stop.
The setting sun gets rounder and rounder;
The sky and the river have joined together.
A bird soars across the sky with its partner –
It’s the best place for couples to saunter.
I fly to the Golden Sands River to see –
I see children riding log flumes.
I hope to form a team to adventure,
To explore the deepest gorge just for pleasure.
Time shall go and never come back;
I try to freeze the picture but I fail.
But still I am very happy,
As I’ll die with no regret.
Children dream when sleeping on the lawn;
Farmers sing when there’s a bumper crop.
At the first turn of the Yangtze River,
At Shigu in Yunnan Province.
I’m proud to have travelled the Yangtze River;
I’m proud of the splendour of the river.
Although I know I’ll soon disappear,
The beauty of the river I’ll always remember.
I go ahead and stay at Fengdu;
The little temples are arranged like steps.
In this town are a lot of hungry ghosts;
Each night they play their horror shows.
224
Poetry, Group 3
The Mother River
Caitlyn Chan, 12, Island School
On a brilliant, cloudless day,
Across the robust land and nation,
The Mother River lay.
She extended her body around,
The great China towns
And the borders that she surrounds.
The wide river channel meanders and weaves,
Through grasslands, mountains and leaves,
Flowing for 6,418 kilometers and flashing the nature in its glory.
Where civilisation was discovered 27 thousand years ago,
Now flows the wild-rapids of the Three Gorges Dam,
The almighty sons of the powerful river banks.
When the Mother River is in anger and rises furiously,
Her strong currents swallow up villages, houses and people injuriously.
But the bold, courageous Gorges Dam helps to protect them expeditiously.
Workers and farmers awake
To bathe and wash in the lake,
From the blessed waters of the Mother River.
Why is she blessed?
From the water reflection we could divest,
The history and wonders of her crest.
For thousands of years, she has generated careers,
For men who trade, convey, travel and unravel
The treasures and the secrets of the unknown.
225
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Habitat to endangered species,
We are united as allies,
By the great Mother river.
At night, when the world rests,
And the stars glisten from the west,
The river hushes and hums a lullaby, drifting the birds to sleep in their nests.
With the river’s long years of help and assistance,
Fame, wealth and power had become China’s significance.
And gradually, other countries were outdistanced.
226
Poetry, Group 3
Change
Christopher Tse Ho Kan, 12, Bishop Hall Jubilee School
As fierce as a warlord’s heart
As cold as an assassin’s art
As wild as a Songjiang market,
It roared.
I stood on the bank,
Watching this moment,
Where the world turned around,
And everything changed in just one moment.
The stormclouds rushed to the shore,
Like a crowd of determined athletes,
Like the flocks of birds that came before it.
It streamed toward the dense city centre.
It stole from everyone in Old Shencheng that night,
Reminding us all at once of destruction, of time passing.
And it made us gasp in wonder:
In Shanghai, you get used to being the centre of power.
227
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
A Life So Much Like a River
Hannah Jun Han Na, 13, Xi’an International School
It is beautiful, it is powerful,
I can feel its flow.
It is wonderful, it is graceful,
I can see the ups and lows.
’Tis the Yangtze River.
It is lonely, it is weak,
I can feel the painfulness.
It is hateful, it has no mercy,
I can see the madness.
’Tis my life.
I stand still and feel,
The wind wraps around me
And lifts me up to the clouds.
I float and look around and oh, what a sight I see!
I see myself racing along the banks of the Yangtze.
It is endless, it is like my life,
The life I am running now,
The life I almost gave up in strife.
I realize that if I give up the race now
I will miss all of the wonderful views
And I know I will regret
If I do not correctly choose.
I run and run and feel
The strong flow of the river beside me.
I want to give up, it seems so hopeless,
I cannot believe in me.
228
Poetry, Group 3
But I stand still and close my eyes.
I listen and the wind whispers to me,
‘Don’t ever give up, lift your face, Child.
Let your spirit free.’
I open my eyes and lift my face.
I make a promise that I am determined not to break.
I will keep on racing with all my heart,
Even through all the aches.
It is all right if I take it slow,
I will be able to see
Everything more clearly, even the smallest things.
I just have to believe in me.
I let the wind carry me back to reality
And I see the world differently.
No longer will I be in darkness,
I will reveal the real me.
Every step I take is new,
Every breath I take is precious.
I will make my life worth it,
I will set it in focus.
A short time, I have learned many things,
The things that may be the most important in life.
Thank you, Yangtze,
For teaching me the great lessons of life.
And I look up to the sky,
Take in the fresh air,
And whisper,
‘This is a new start, I will not fail.
Thank you, my dear Yangtze
Thank you, forever and for all.’
229
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Hope, Despair, of the Yangtze River
Heloise Dunlop, 12, The French International School of Hong Kong
Hope, despair,
Of the Yangtze River.
Serpent of life,
Coiling through gorges,
Cleaving mountains.
Scenery changes,
She moves on,
Unchanged.
Famine, earthquake,
On either side,
The boundary of peoples,
She passes by, unmoved.
A ladder into the clouds,
The source of plenty
Since time immemorial.
Untamed,
Violent,
She is merciful,
The life of her nation.
Tamed,
Disrespected,
Turned to man’s uses,
She became a destroyer.
Respect the great river.
230
Poetry, Group 3
Ode to the Yangtze
Jasmine Bootwala, 13, HKUGA College
Majestically your waters flow
Down the long and winding gorge,
I see the sunlight dance on the river
And hear the sound of laughing water.
Through mountains and valleys, off they go;
Chiming and roaring their happiness shows.
The water glowed – as if lit from within
On the banks of golden streams.
You witnessed the change of this glorious landscape,
Yet now your glory is tarnished
Because of the thoughtlessness of the human race;
Who pollute your waters with chemical waste.
Not showing any sympathy for the loss of your grace,
As your pure beauty fades gradually.
They chop your brown limbs on your banks without any mercy.
They leave you in a devastated state.
But now let’s say this once and for all.
We won’t let your position fall!
We’ll take action and help save your beauty
So we can see your unique dignity.
We’ll protect you because you’re a part of our family
And pass it on through decades and centuries.
Let us shout from mountaintops
That we will take action and never stop.
So you’ll stay glorious forever and always
For people to admire, cherish and praise.
231
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Finless Porpoise
Kang Ji Min, 13, South Island School
Swimming through the boundless splash
Hidden and grey, yet alive
With a ferocity as passionate as the river
The porpoise continues to thrive.
“Nothing is as great as the Yangtze River”
Say the ones who live at its sides
Meanwhile, under, deep in the depths
The porpoise continues to glide.
It swerves and ducks, twirls and rolls
Amongst others of its own kind
The finless porpoise, native to the river
Continues to swim, intertwined
With nature itself, of the great Yangtze,
And the life at the heart of its soul
With the chrysanthemums, pandas and many fish
The porpoise continues to roll.
At the sides, the energetic porpoise could see
Residents washing their clothes
They beat them against the weather-worn rocks
While the porpoise continues to flow.
Like a kaleidoscope, the water shines
Shimmering in the golden sun
The porpoise looks up, smiles and proceeds
To bask in its wonderful fun.
And later, when the moon comes out
Illuminating the great Yangtze
The porpoise stops to settle down
Happy, healthy and free,
Deep in the water, under the stars
The porpoise slows down to rest
Grateful for the Yangtze River –
Its home, its shelter, its nest.
232
Poetry, Group 3
The Woman from the Gods
Karen Woo, 12, Sha Tin College
Behold the Yangtze River, the woman from the gods.
So special and precious, even the king applauds!
Cartwheeling at the joy of being alive,
She destroyed many houses, half did not survive.
The gods thought, oh no! What have we done!
This was supposed to be a miracle not a burden.
They punished her by freezing her still,
Only summer may break the will.
She lay down across the land,
From the Tibetan mountains to Shanghai sand.
Her rippling waves of skin, used to be smooth and fair.
Now tanned and wrinkled by the sun’s harsh glare.
Long silky hair now all gone!
Replaced with rock collected over an eon.
Clever nimble hands,
Erode the soil next to the croplands.
Her long thin legs kick and struggle,
Splashing the water on the people with a drizzle.
Why are you doing this Lady River?
Revenge! Revenge on the gods who have doomed their daughter.
I shall take my anger out on you sorry people,
Drench you with my flooding special.
233
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Over the years came flood and tragedy,
No mercy was given, not even any.
After centuries of razing,
Yangtze quieted down and started thinking.
She saw a little girl under a slab of rock,
Crying in pain, she could not move under the block.
Trapped inside the wicked gap,
Struggling to move within the trap.
Another rock came from above,
Smashing her flat, with a power never dreamed of.
Then something struck in Yangtze’s head,
She saw herself in that little girl, struggling with dread.
She regretted causing the fear, the pain and the deaths,
She repented for taking their last breaths.
In order to atone for her crime,
She helped people reach their prime.
Bringing them water day and night,
For growing crops in the moonlight.
She helped them travel from high open moors,
To low sandy shores.
She caught fish for the people to devour,
And soothed them to sleep at the late hour.
The gods were astonished at her action,
So astounded! They even offered freedom from her prison.
“No!” she said without wavering,
No fear was shown, and she said it without blinking.
The gods honoured her wishes,
Lady Yangtze would continue to nurse the people with hugs and kisses.
234
Poetry, Group 3
A Song of a River
Leung Hei Yiu, 13, Diocesan Girls’ School
The river of Yangtze is a blood vessel
Transporting life to different parts of China
For centuries and centuries
To millions and millions of people
Like a heart, pumping blood
To different parts of a body
The river of Yangtze is a symbol of history
Representing one of the four ancient civilizations
For centuries and centuries
Of millions and millions of people
Like a ribbon, remaining the connection
Between the past and now
But the river of Yangtze
Has been seriously polluted
For years and years
By millions and millions of people
Like a conveyor belt, taking away trash
That we do not wish to own
Is that the end of a river
Once so beautiful and elegant
For centuries and centuries
Appreciated by millions and millions of people?
Or are we able to write
Some new pages,
The new tales of the Yangtze River?
235
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
I Live by the Yangtze River
Ophelie Desceliers, 12, American International School
I live by the Yangtze River
In winter it’s so cold I could shiver
I wish to move away from it
But we can’t even afford a candle to light
Every day, all I heard was unbroken flowing water
For I was the youngest daughter
Who didn’t go to school yet.
Every afternoon I’d play in the water and get wet,
I’d come back home with a smile not a shiver
As I grow up, I started to like the river.
Its current is ever so smooth
During the monsoons it grows from a child to its youth
The river flows with all its prideAnd that is why I’d enjoy a ride
With the flowing water underneath
Sharp rocks are covered with water as if in a sheath
I still live by the river as I grow old
The stories of the Baiji dolphins are told
The river keeps flowing like silver
And that’s the story of me and the Yangtze River
236
Poetry, Group 3
The Great River
Oscar Olesen, 14, International College Hong Kong
Roar O’ Glorious River,
May none surpass your flow,
You behold helpless beings coming hither,
From ford to inlet they row,
Roar O’ Glittering River,
Sparkling brightly from afar,
Each glint a flickering beacon,
Every one a brand new star,
Roar O’ Righteous River,
Wash foulness from your banks,
Though humans scuttle to and fro,
Spreading evil ‘pon your flanks,
Roar O’ Sorrowful River,
Both glory and glitter the cost,
Of the humans’ blasphemous actions,
Now both humans and rivers are lost.
237
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Yangtze River Needs
Your Help! : A Haiku
Sabrina Yau, 12, Sha Tin College
The Yangtze River,
Is polluted and needs help,
Help clean up or else,
The Yangtze River,
Will perish without a doubt,
There will be a drought,
And many people,
Will die or have an illness,
So help us clean up,
The Yangtze River,
So everyone can live a
Long and happy life.
238
Poetry, Group 3
The River Flows On
Sarah Davidson, 15, Elsa High School
A child laughs
A mother kisses her baby goodnight
A bird sings a lullaby
And the river flows on
The thunder roars
The water kills
Deafening cries pierce the night
But the river flows on
The soldiers charge
The guns explode
The enemy falls in bloody heaps
But the river flows on
As the days roll into night
And darkness turns to light
Peasants live and die
And the river always flows on
239
Poetry
Group 4
Poetry, Group 4
By The River
Alexia Seroussi, 14, Elsa High School
By the Yangtze River she stood
All the memories were left for good,
The days she would walk by,
Coming home with such a sigh,
With beautiful sparkles in her eyes,
No one ever seemed to see her cries,
Every day, she would remember his reflection,
And to her, that was perfection.
She would look at the Kong Ling Shoal,
And she knew now she would no longer go on strolls
The mystery of her father will never be told,
It is a secret she can no longer hold,
It was the last time she went by the river,
She remembered it whilst she would shiver
She was taught that, the river would never stop flowing,
And she would never stop glowing.
241
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
The Listening
Cheng Yuet Yi, 16, St. Paul’s Co-educational College
Listen
To the sounds of the tides
Go
Down by the riverside
In you
The Yangtze shall confide
They have sung the song for a lifetime
But nobody ever believed in the rhyme
For the river was full of dirt and grime
And though the capital called it tamed
To the people it was just the same
She was different, however
Always a fine listener
This solitary peasant maiden
By the world was she torn and beaten
But she was always with the Yangtze
Her visits to the river never ceased
She lay by the water
Serene and silent
To the breaths and ballads of the river she listened
They all called her mad:
What she should do was to find a decent lad
Not to stare at the river with such consternation
Well she didn’t care what they all said
The river was her only consolation
She loved the Yangtze with an elation
242
Poetry, Group 4
One fine day the Yangtze realised her promise –
The promise she made in that rhyme sung by generations
The girl was again sitting by the water
Everything was as ordinary as ever
Out of the blue
She was overcome with visions
Of gold and silver and lavishness and splendour
Of kings and queens and marching bands
They were all on floating flats profuse and grand …
She was back when the river was at its golden glory
How much she wished that these were true!
The glamour of the river’s memories
Was beyond this naïve girl from the country
So every day after she was shown these imageries
She slacked from her work at the fuming factory
And kept begging the Yangtze for those dreams of finest delicacy
Again and again the river fulfilled her fantasies
You have every right to condemn her avarice
But she was simply a child of no harm or malice
She just wanted to see the world beyond her own
Unlike the crumbling burrow she had back home
Unluckily the story doesn’t end here
The cunning river was tired of the girl’s over-indulgence
She was no longer a companion of sincerity and innocence
The maiden began to receive mirages of dread and fears
The dark side of truth brought her to tears
But she still kept all these inside her head
She wanted nobody else to share her intimacy with the river
Although holding on to disasters
Wouldn’t make her any better
243
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Fortunately for the girl driven half mad
A fine fellow had some kind of premonition
He came to her sanity’s reclamation
Down by the water he held her hand in recognition
He treated the crazed maiden without any discrimination
Eventually he was let into her twisted mind
Yes, peculiar memories of the Yangtze did he find
But he ensured her everything was fine
He said, “Now the scars are also mine.”
She looked at him with starry eyes
Finally from the abyss of avidity did she arise
She bade her lust for the river’s memories goodbye
But before that the fellow had one last piece of advice:
“I don’t want to have your sorrows reprised
But to give your demons a final defeat
Tell the world about the Yangtze and her song –
That would have been an ultimate feat.”
Now,
We could see the two going round the place
Verifying the age-old rhyme about the river
Saying that with all our hearts should we appreciate its allure
Because one day by the Yangtze in your daze
The dazzle of the old times may you face …
244
Poetry, Group 4
Cry Me a River
Kenneth Lam, 15, HKICC Lee Shau Kee School of Creativity
The little girl living near the river is crying
Because her mother is scolding her for lying
She walks along the riverside
Watching the birds flying in the sky
The surface of the river is glittering brightly
In the water, the fishes are swimming freely
A turtle is creeping under the sun
Stretching out its long neck to hunt
Suddenly, a thunderstorm is approaching
All animals are rushing madly
Frightened by the horrible scream of the girl
A python curls into a swirl
“Mama, Mama, where are you?”
Not far away, a woman holding an umbrella is coming
“Don’t cry, don’t cry,
Mama will take you home,
If you don’t tell lies!”
“Mama, I promise you, I won’t tell lies again!
Please don’t leave me in the rain.”
After that, they went out for a walk
They played, they laughed and they talked
They became closer and closer
The years went by
The woman was getting old
Watching her daughter grow
One day, the girl went to the port
Sailing from city to city to find a job
“Whatever you do,
Please, send me a letter when you find a job.”
“Mum, please don’t worry about me.
I will work hard like a bee.
I will come home to visit you when I am free,
Take care of yourself when I am not here.
If you have any needs, please call me!”
Years went by before she returned,
The woman was dead
The girl was so sad,
“Mum, don’t leave me by the river, I won’t tell lies again!”
245
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Shall We Visit?
Lam Tin Wai, 16, Heep Yunn School
Shall we visit this picturesque scenery some day?
Wriggling, crawling like a weary earthworm
Reluctantly writhing from the sea of indigo and turquoise
And eventually reaching the edge of this enormous dragon in the Far East.
Yes dear, we shall.
Shall we visit this venerable sight some day?
Behind the panoramic view of nature
This worm has seen countless people
With their grins and beams and tears and sobs on their faces
Through centuries, quietly it lays.
Yes dear, we shall.
Shall we visit this magnificent civilisation some day?
From providing water for irrigation to farmers
Who travail and leave baskets of sweat in fields
To offering merchants a path of trading and doing business.
Yes dear, we shall.
My dear, shall we visit the Yangtze River?
Yes, yes, some day we shall.
246
Poetry, Group 4
It’s My Life
So Fung Ki, 16, Heep Yunn School
I lived in the Yangtze River,
A peaceful place with fish everywhere.
But something happened that changed my life forever.
I am now a loner suffering immensely, saying my last prayer.
THEY constructed a dam for the good of them,
THEY neglected our rights when they made this plan.
Navigation and exploration never end.
Our river is polluted by dyes, chemicals and steel plants.
Sewage chokes us, we suffer and gasp.
There came the horrible hunters with metal rods,
“Bang!” We were scared and got caught.
Fishermen came with Zeus’s thunderbolt,
“Buzz!” the fish were shocked.
The only way out was blocked!
My friends were strangled and they squawked.
The fishermen laughed loudly and continued their talk.
They cast the nets and my food was withdrawn.
The water is now poisoned and unclean.
The gorgeous gorges can no longer be seen.
The dam is like a killing machine,
“Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!”
It exterminates fish and baby dolphins.
Cruel dam and callous fishermen,
Why did you slaughter my friends?
THEY disrupt our life again and again.
Unwillingly our fate is in their hands.
There is no way for us to defend.
Alas! When will the tragedy of the river end?
247
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Who Am I, Exactly?
Stefanie Law Yee Kiu, 15, Diocesan Girls’ School
Yearned to be famous;
Desired to be known.
When I was just a child,
I was a dreamer.
After some hard work,
Success
Had arrived.
I was a star.
Naturally, photos
And songs of me
Can be found.
I was a legend.
Growing older,
Fame became important.
In that international competition,
I was a third-place winner.
Teased by my friends, animosity aroused.
My anger was a red, red flame.
I cried, I screamed, I yelled.
I was a destructor.
Zinc, iron, aluminium
And waste.
Thrown to express their anger.
I was a trash-collector.
248
Poetry, Group 4
Even as they did that, I continued to cry.
To control my emotions,
They agreed to grant me a crown that cost billions.
I was royalty.
Receiving a crown meant paying a price.
Millions of my family members left and resettled in other places,
Many of my old friends went to heaven.
I was a loner.
I missed my friends, whom I treated as my family.
Sickness followed.
I stank and my conditions continue to worsen.
I was a patient.
Visualizing my past,
I started to understand how selfish and foolish I was.
With the help of the magic crown, I learned to control my tears.
I was a student.
Each of us needs to learn to be satisfied.
I am the third longest in the world.
Yet, I am already the longest in my country.
I am a river.
Rejoice with what we already have,
Why bother chasing to be the best?
I am already one in a million.
I am the Yangtze River.
249
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Death of the Yangtze River Dolphin
Tara Jasmine Lee Boyi, 17, Diocesan Girls’ School
Floating slowly by, she drifts garlanded
With plastic bags like subtle jellyfish,
That softly smother the dolphin’s pale head.
Those shiny bottle caps are her coronet.
Her veil, which sheds a shadow sheer as skin,
Is a fine entangled nylon net.
Long faint lines slide down her spine –
Faint scars from fishing net fiascos.
Her skin is tainted by chemical filled brine.
A creature once so lively in that element
Is forever lost to litter – what a crime
For us to lament.
250
Poetry
Group 6
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Oh! My Great Yangtze River!
Wong Ka Ming, 16, Hong Kong Juvenile Care Centre Chan Nam Cheong Memorial School
Oh! My great Yangtze River!
I’m proud of you.
Your water gives lives to millions of human beings.
Countless histories are recorded along you
Which bedeck our Chinese culture.
Oh! My great Yangtze River!
I’m proud of you.
Your fluid nurtures agriculture.
Crops, vegetables, fruits are grown beside you
Which bring a substantial amount of wealth to our country.
Oh! My great Yangtze River!
I’m proud of you.
252
Congratulations
from the sponsors
Sponsor, P3 & Playtimes
The team at P3 congratulates all of the young writers who participated in this year’s contest
and whose work is featured in this anthology. We continue to be overwhelmed and impressed
by the number of entries and by the talent those entries reflect. This year we received nearly
600 entries from 90 schools across the territory! As difficult as it was, we narrowed those down
to the winning pieces you’ll find printed here.
I’m delighted to be part of the Young Writers Awards again and to celebrate the achievements
of all of the students who participated. So many reports and news stories seem to focus on the
decline of writing skills among today’s kids – they’re too busy texting and playing video games
to live up to the high standards of our day, we’re told. But, this anthology is proof that today’s
kids are just as creative and engaged in writing and storytelling as they’ve ever been.
The students who have entered this contest are well on their way to developing the passion and
skills they’ll need to become the professional storytellers and journalists of tomorrow. I am
incredibly proud to play a small part in this process, encouraging them in their pursuits and
celebrating their success.
Congratulations!
David Tait
Publisher & Managing Director
254
Tracey Starr,
Playtimes Editor-in-Chief
Sponsor, Bloomberg
Bloomberg congratulates all of the young writers who participated in this year’s contest and
whose work is featured in this anthology. As a news agency and media company, Bloomberg
strives for excellence in accuracy, timeliness and relevance of information. We encourage and
continuously seek creative writing talent and we passionately believe that such talent should
be encouraged to flourish at a young age. We have been impressed by the calibre of writing
presented in this year’s competition.
Congratulations to all the winners!
Rebecca Sanda
Head of Marketing Bloomberg Asia Pacific
255
Sponsor, City University of Hong Kong
An event like the Young Writers Award attests to the creativity and literary talent of Hong
Kong students. In a city that never stops, it’s a pleasure to witness what happens when we
do ask our young students to pause a while and think of a specific topic, approaching it
armed with some books and their imaginations. We learn that stories were created in the
past, become ours in the present, and can be rewritten for the future. The stories, essays, and
poems about the Yangtze River in this collection not only reimagine an millennial place,
but also harness the legends around that place to make it meaningful to young people today.
Through the stories, therefore, the place becomes theirs, ours, everyone’s. The energy in these
new tales demonstrates the kind of creative liveliness we want to encourage in today’s young
people. The event becomes a success when the results exceed our expectations. This is what
has happened today.
On behalf of the Department of English at City University of Hong Kong, I would like to
congratulate the winners of the competition. But also, I would like to congratulate all the
participants. By imagining, by writing, you have been able to transcend your own world,
entering another for a while, making that world alive, making it yours. This is already the best
prize of all.
With all best wishes,
Rocio G. Davis
Acting Head of the Department of English
City University of Hong Kong
256
Sponsor, Bookazine
Do not put statements in the negative form.
And don’t start sentences with a conjunction.
If you reread your work, you will find on rereading that a
great deal of repetition can be avoided by rereading and editing.
Never use a long word when a diminutive one will do.
Unqualified superlatives are the worst of all.
De-accession euphemisms.
If any word is improper at the end of a sentence, a linking verb is.
Avoid trendy locutions that sound flaky.
Last, but not least, avoid cliches like the plague.”
William Safire, “Great Rules of Writing”
257
Sponsor, Asia Exhibits House Limited
On behalf of Asia Exhibits House, it gives us great pleasure to be the event manager of this
meaningful occasion and to encourage and honour the success of our next generation. This
contest offers a great opportunity for young writers to think outside of their usual classroom
setting, and showcase their creative talents through words and drawings. We are amazed to see
the level of imagination put into writing these beautiful pieces!
Asia Exhibits House would like to congratulate all the winners of the Hong Kong Young
Writers Awards, as well as all those who have submitted their entries. Our very best wishes for
all your future endeavours, keep up the good work!
Whyment Lee
Director, Asia Exhibits House Limited
258
Sponsor, Go Gourmet
Congratulations to all the talented participants in the Hong Kong Young Writers Awards
competition from the entire Go Gourmet Group including Sprinkles Cupcakes, Pasta Mio and
Magnolia! Once again, the diverse community of Hong Kong and China students has amazed
us with their literary skills and their ability to express themselves so creatively. This year’s
entries have all shown a great level of imagination, enthusiasm and passion from their young
writers and we are proud to be a part of an event that nurtures such incredibly talented youth.
Well done to you all and keep up the great work!
Lori Granito
Managing Director, Go Gourmet
259
Charity, The Christina Noble Children’s Foundation
The Christina Noble Children’s Foundation (CNCF) is delighted to once again be the official
charity of the Hong Kong Young Writers Awards. This year’s theme, New Tales of the Yangtze
River is particularly meaningful due to the life lessons that children will absorb as they
contemplate the power of one of the most beautiful rivers in the world. The Yangtze’s historical
impact on its surroundings - at times the source of flourishing civilizations, at times a force of
devastating calamity - serves to reinforce the reality that life is full of challenges but that these
challenges can be turned into opportunities for positive development.
At CNCF we too strive to teach the children under our care that no matter what hardships they
have endured there is always hope for a better life, a better future. Our programmes in Vietnam
and Mongolia seek to show at-risk children that they are special, they are loved and cherished,
they are unique, they are important, and that they can and they should have dreams. A
significant part of our efforts to promote positivity and progress include providing educational
opportunities that foster creative thinking and expression.
We congratulate the HKYWA for continuing to encourage and celebrate creative pursuits
among the children of greater Hong Kong and China. Most importantly we commend the
Awards for striving to build awareness in the greater Hong Kong community about less
fortunate children in the region. With growing awareness will come understanding and
empathy – the next generation of Hong Kong’s youth will certainly benefit from these qualities.
Thank you for giving us the opportunity to be involved in this worthy pursuit.
Mai Ling Turner
Director of Development
On behalf of the CNCF Hong Kong Team
260
Cover Art
Shortlist
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Top left:
Byron Daly, 10
Glenealy School
Top:
Chloe Shek, 7
HKUGA Primary School
Left:
Kevin Zi Hao Xue, 9
Shenzhen Regents Primary School
262
Cover Art
Top left:
Melissa Lai, 7
HKUGA Primary School
Top:
Ryan Chung, 7
HKUGA Primary School
Left:
Tsui Pak Lok, 10
Renaissance College Hong Kong
263
Hong Kong Young Writers Awards 2012
Liam Fung, 10
Chinese International School
Jasmine Korng Ying Ki, 10
Renaissance College Hong Kong
Tang Yik Man, 6
St. Margaret’s Co-educational
English Secondary and Primary
School
264
to register
for the 2013 awards, please email
Jo Allum at [email protected]
Organiser
www.hkywa.com
New Tales of
the Yangtze River
M
ove over, Harry Potter. Young people in Hong Kong are feeling creative. There are too
many books in the bookstore filled with writing from the other side of the world, designed
for readers on the other side of the world. But this is the latest in a series of anthologies of
works by young authors right here on the coast of the South China Sea. These tales, all with a spin on
the theme of the Yangtze River, will transport readers onto the banks of that venerable channel flowing
through the mainland. The tales are powered by bright, new, creative ideas, and are told with lively,
fresh voices. These stories are a selection of the best works submitted to the Hong Kong Young Writers
Awards. Dive in and enjoy.
ISBN 978-988-8151-35-6
Cover Art by Pui Pui Chan, 8, ISF Academy
Winner of the Cover Art Award
9 789888 151356