Part I: Luck

Characters

Yao Wong - China Chun-Yan Lieng - OC Yao’s mom Lei Wong - OC Yao’s dad Dong- OC

Chapter 1: The Deep Bay

春季到来绿满窗， 大姑娘窗下绣鸳鸯。 忽然一阵无情棒， 打得鸳鸯各一旁。

Spring comes and the window fills with green A maiden sits by the window embroidering a pair of mandarin ducks Suddenly, a heartless blow Splits the ducks in two

***

August, 1957

Inhaling the cold salty air sharply, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the times when he was younger, much younger than he is now, and when he would take his rusty bike with his friends down the dirt road from his grade school to the estuary nearby that connected to this very bay he stood in front of, to the wider ocean that was unknown to him.

Hau Hoi Wan was what they called this bay - the Back Bay - and for quite some time, the man had always been envious of the fishermen on there long narrow boats on the sea, steadying themselves as they would toss a long nets made of intricately tied ropes, hauling in fish. He would rather sit on a boat all day than work in the rice fields his family owned in the small village of Jinqiu that was much further away from the coolness of the ocean and consumed by the heat of the sun.

The man was looking at the same body of water that he would stare out at as a young student- however, he stared at the dark waters in front of him with fear and dread rather than with the wonder and anticipation he would have had. He glanced ahead at the darkness that laid before him, no sight of land to be seen. The reflection of the moon could be seen rippled on the water that was far from still, and as he glanced up to the ink black night sky freckled with a few heavy clouds rolling in the distance, he wanted to remain static in this moment.

He wanted to go back home. He wanted to turn around and traverse back to Jinqiu, not caring that it would take him another week by walking to get there. He wanted to see his Mama again, even though at this point, she is nothing more than skins and bones.

Alas, he knew he had nothing left to turn back to. He had no future here, either in Jinqiu or anywhere in the province of Guangdong. His Baba was likely dead at this point, and his Mama- his poor, lovely Mama- was laying on her deathbed at home, painfully dying from pneumonia under the watchful eye of the village women.

He glanced back to the village that was a few meters away from the shore, and saw the flickering flames of the lanterns within the small stick huts die slowly, one by one.

This is the last time he would be in China. The last thing he’ll see is Shenzhen- this poor, tiny village that he watched silently. In the next four hours, he’ll either be a dead floating body in the bay, or he would have made it to the shores of Hong Kong safely.

“Yao,” a low, steady tone, drew the man’s attention away from the lanterns to the side.

He had travelled from their tiny village to the village to Shenzhen with a few other men around his age with the same goal he had- to leave China and make it Hong Kong in one piece.

Had travel not been restricted between Hong Kong and China, they would not have to resort to swimming across the Back Bay in order to get to the old British colony. It was the only way- there was no Hong Kong patrols in the bay, and it was better than attempting to be smuggled through a boat where they would be grave consequences for being caught.

The man who he knew as Dong, a close family friend who was few years older than Yao, and who had promised his mother that he would accompany Yao to Hong Kong. Dong had been planning on doing this since the first wave of soldiers marched through their village, gathering all the men who were considered to be rightist by the government standards.

Yao’s dad, Wong Lei, was one of those men. Along with Dong’s father, they rushed them into a military van, whisking them away after causing further chaos by burning the a few of the crops of land the village owned.

Chun-Yan, Yao’s mother, had begged Dong to take Yao to Hong Kong with him in order to escape the potentially devastating fate that may befell him if he continued to live in Guangdong. She specifically wanted him to go to Un Long Town, a town in the innerland that was a popular place that Chinese mainlanders aim to land according to the bandit Dong had arranged this journey with. This town was where Yao knew his aunt, his mother’s younger sister, Lieng Chun-Yi, lived with her three children, and he knew that they were the only ones he could turn to for solace.

Yao did not trust the bandit in the least, with his unkempt short hair and short beard that was unusual for young men to wear, and the sinister look in his beady eyes as he accepted the payment from Dong. Yao, however, did trust Dong, and as long as he was beside him in this journey, he knew he would be safe.

He hoped he would be safe.

“Come what may, I’ll be by your side,” Dong said, narrow eyes maintaining eye contact with Yao’s, making the latter even more uneasy than he already was. “I promised Auntie Liang to take you to your aunt safely.”

Yao simply nodded, not knowing what to say and took one last look at the village, longingly. He had accepted that there was no home to turn back to. He took a step forward, his bare feet tipping into the cold water, sending goosebumps throughout his body.

His mind blanked, the light splashing of legs running towards the water could be heard as he slowly walked forward, fear leaving his body.

“From the end of the world, to the farthest sea I searched for my heart's partner A young girl sings, while he accompanies her on the instrument Our love through the hard times is deep indeed Oh, our love through the difficult times is deep”

One of Yao’s earliest memory of his younger days was hearing this song playing on the small radio their family owned, on a warm spring day. His mother was making their afternoon meal, sitting on the floor of their kitchen as she washed the rice in a bowl, while Yao was staring out from the open door to their flat yard, his legs swaying idly to the song. He was likely waiting for his father to return from the rice fields, but the details were vague.

He knew he had loved this particular song, with the tune being oh too familiar. His mother always hummed this particular song to herself as she went about her family chores, and when she would try to lull Yao to sleep.

When he first heard the song on the radio, albeit the reception they received from their village was terribly, with the static interfering here and there, he instantly fell in love with the singer, with the way her words flowed out in a high voice, and with the beautiful erhu that accompanied her throughout the song.

“The song is called ‘The Wandering Songstress’,” Chun-Yan said after the song had finished and Yao had questioned her about it. Yao sat in front of her, staring, as she continued to shift the rice through the water. Her thick black hair was pulled back into a bun, a scarf pushing back her stray hairs, and yet, she still looked young for her age. “Zhou Xuan is the singer.”

Chun-Yan continued, her warm brown eyes glazing over as if she were looking into a far distant. “She released this song the year you were born. She was quite a doll in Street Angel! If only I had a photo of her to show you- your father and I used to watch her movies whenever we went to Guangzhi.”

Yao only half cared about the latter information, not caring much for the trivial affairs of his parents, but the name Zhou Xuan was imprinted in his mind, and the song in association. The singer was further imprinted after his mother showed him a torn photograph of the singer that she had kept for quite some time, Yao instantly falling in love with the singer’s entire being.

Even now as an adult, listening to Zhou Xuan’s voice puts his mind at ease, wrapping his body in the warmth and happiness of a lover’s want and affair. Oddily, however, hearing the song filled him with safety as well. It was the safety of his mother that he sensed in the song, who he could still sometimes hear her soft voice singing and humming the song, even though she has stopped doing ever since she fell ill.

But as he swam through the cold waters in front of him, the cold air filling his lungs causing a distinct pain and his body feeling numb, he repeated the song in his head, in his mother’s voice.

“Looking north from my mountain nest My tears fall and wet my blouse Missing him, I will not rest Only love that lasts through hard time is true”

And he kept going. 

And going.

 And going.

Mao Zedong, chairman of the Communist Party of China, formally gained power on October 1st, 1949. Not only did Yao have this memorized in head from the yearly military marches that would be broadcasted in the village leaders television and every villager would clamour around to witness the black and white images play in front of them with wide eyes, but he would constantly be reminded of this fact due to him being born on October 1st as well.

Yao was born in the year 1937, a few months after the first attack by the Japanese in Peking, preluding the Second Sino-Japanese War and allowing Japanese occupation that lasted well until the fall of 1945. These parts of history have always been drilled in Yao’s head, from his lessons at his school to what his father would vividly recount to him, even though they were relatively safe from most of the conflicts that occured. Though, as luck may have it, they were never apart of the conflict zone or targets of incidents with the Japanese army, and Yao’s life during the war was nothing more than a blur of various colourful parts of the village.

Wong Lei had always supported the Communist Party- as a farmer in a village forgotten by the state, they fought for the poor and forgotten of China. Yao remembers hiding behind the wall separating the living room to the kitchen, snippets of fuzzy discussions of support from men during the civil war, drinking from small clay cups while Chun-Yan would bring in a fresh pot of tea. Most had supported Chairman Mao and wanted the KMT gone.

“He is for the people,” the men would say, a slogan that stuck with the CPC in the public’s mind, and would be carried when Chairman Mao proclaimed that their nation was now the People’s Republic of China.

Until after his election, however, they started to have complex feelings about how he handled the situation in China. Closed borders and lack of resources affected the village much more than what they expected to be. Censorship was the main issue with Yao’s father, who was a man of many opinions and have the skills to sway anyone who cared to listen to him talk. And in their village, there were plenty of people willing to listen.

He could have been a scholarly man, Chun-Yan had told Yao. He could have went to university if he wanted to, with a strong personality and the willingness to learn and write of many topics, especially in politics. Yao has seen his collection of books and papers that were tucked away in the corner of the house, layered in dust due to neglect.

Yao admired his father for his opinions. He admired that he stood up for what he believed in.

His opinions caused his own downfall, alas.

It had happened so fast. The day was like any other July day, the sun high and bright, the trees swaying to the light wind as wind chimes could be heard from the distance. Yao was pulling water from the well on the outskirts of the village and was walking up the dirt path towards home when he heard distant yelling and cries.

He walked to his house to find a hanful of men in the green uniforms with guns in their hands, ready to hurt anyone who interfered.

"Wong Lei," a man who stood taller than the rest of the soldiers, with his red sash and medals that signified he was of higher rank, barked out as two soldiers held Yao's father between them, nearly dragging his legs through the dirt. "You are under arrest for cultivating a rightist movement against the government of the People's Republic of China."

Yao couldn't do anything other than sneak into his house to find his mother on the ground, sobbing and alone, but unharmed. The house was a mess, with the table being flipped over, and his father's books ripped up and splayed across the floor.

Within a blink of an eye, they left, with other men who they claimed to be rightists, and thus a threat to the government. Yao never heard from his father again.

From the rumours that surrounded this campaign the government is holding, his father would be in a camp either working as a hard labourer or dead.

For his father’s sake, Yao had hoped that he was executed. His spirit would be liberated from the shackles of this world, and he could live eternally in the peace he could not receive while alive.

NOTES:

Yao Wang -> Yao Wong Due to Yao originating from the southern province of Guangdong in China, where there are alot of native Cantonese speakers, I changed his last name to the Cantonese equivalent

The Anti-Rightist Campaign was a reaction by Mao against the Hundred Flowers Campaign (which was also controlled by Mao's government in order to encourage citizens to openly express their opinions on the government). The campaign was to arrest and persecute "rightists" (vague, but those who may favour capitalism). The first wave was in July 1957.

Jinqiu is a fictional village further from the capital city of Guangzhou, most likely near where modern Duangguan is

The Back Bay is the literal translation for the Shenzhen Bay (or Deep Bay)

Zhou Xuan She was a Chinese singer and actress during the early 1930s till her death in September 1957. Her career was mostly in Shanghai, and gained prominence by the 1940s. The first stanza at the beginning is from her song "Song of the Four Seasons", which appeared in the 1937 movie "Street Angel" where her other song mentionned, "The Wandering Songstress" also makes an appearance. Her songs and her character is a theme in this story because I think Yao in this story would idolize her.

The Continental Hotel mentioned in the summary will make an appearance in Part 2, but it was basically a lounge in Toronto's old Chinatown during the 1950s-1960s where lesbians would hang out. Since Canada had restricted Chinese immigration, Chinese male workers were mostly 'bachelors', and a lot of them would go to The Continental Hotel to basically form relationships with these women (whether sexual or platonic)

Characters

Chun-Yi Lieng- OC Yao's aunt

Jun-Min - OC

Chapter 2: The Town of Un Long

夏季到来柳丝长， 大姑娘漂泊到长江。 江南江北风光好， 怎及青纱起高粱。

Summer comes and the willow fronds grow long The maiden has been blown south of the river The scenery is lovely all over the land But how can it compare to the green gauzy sorghum at home?

The last time Yao swam in the ocean was in August of the summer after his last year in the secondary school his father had partly forced him to enrol into. Most kids when they were finished with primary would usually work in the fields alongside their parents, but both of Yao’s parents were avid about him ensuing higher education.

“I would rather you attend a university and have an industrial job than work in the fields with me,” his father had told him when Yao finished his primary schooling.

Truthfully, his father wanting Yao to pursue a non-agricultural job made sense- their land was going through a rapid industrial growth, and job prospects in that area had increased and expanded to academic fields in universities.

Yao was good at the lessons at school and he won’t deny that he enjoyed learning. He was happy that his parents didn’t force him to work in the rice field, and he was grateful for the opportunity as well. It was an opportunity that his father couldn’t afford to have, even if he never ended up using it to the fullest and ending in the fields to help his struggling family as soon as he finished his studies.

Truly, thought, the only thing he could think about fondly during those years was his friend, Jun-Min.

At least, that’s what he referred to Jun-Min as publicly, to his parents and to his village friends.

They had known each other from their primary years, but it wasn’t until secondary school when Yao really started to speak to and be around Jun-Min. They were the few students who had decided to continue to pursue more than a basic education, and after being seated beside each other on the first day of class, they instantly become friends.

Jun-Min came from a fishermen village, near the ocean shore, and he and Yao would bike to their school, meeting at the point where their roads crossed paths. When Yao wanted to avoid going back home, he would follow Jun-Min’s lead down the path to his village, where they would spend the rest of the evening on the shoreside.

He had learned how to swim properly due to Jun-Min, who would hold Yao afloat countless times as he attempts to kick and stroke his arms through the waters without sinking. It had taken a good summer break for Yao to get the hang of swimming, and it began to become a pass time that they both enjoyed doing after a hot day helping their parents with their work.

Yao’s memories of Jun-Min was as clear and vivid as day, as if he had seen the boy just the other day.

He could see him standing on the sandy beaches and staring out into the horizon- with his tan skin glowing golden under the setting sun, his messy black hair swaying gently with the ocean breeze, and his chest exposed, having abandoned the white uniform shirt for nothing. His muscles compact along his arms and upper body would flex slightly at certain movements he would make, while skipping a few rocks or helping someone bring their boat to shore, and Yao would look at him in admiration.

Yao loved the way Jun-Min would make him feel. Time was nonexistent whenever Yao would be with him, his stomach in a knot, and he felt as if he were in a movie, with Zhou Xuan singing of love in the background. His heart fluttered each time Jun-Min would laugh and smile at Yao’s haughty nature and his attraction only grew.

He loved his scent. He smelled like the saltiness of the ocean along, and it would cling onto Yao’s body and clothing as he would leave late in the evening to return home, far away from the sea.

He loved the creases in his body- he loved tracing his fingers along the lines as they laid down in the foliage further away, far from the eyes of adults’ suspicions. He loved his lips, the way they were always soft and knew just where to place itself on Yao’s skin, with care. He loved the way Jun-Min’s hands, long and calloused, would run through his hair, and along his legs, as Yao would loosely whisper sweet nothings into his ear, coaxing for more.

They have talked about eloping, in the ways they could only do it. They were both boys after all- who has ever heard of male lovers? It was illegal to do the things they have done, and safety came with being under the guise of being friends. They had plans in their final year for Yao to continue on to Tianjin University in order to travel away from their families and away from any sort of village suspicions that had started to from their lack of courting girls’ their age.

They could have been so perfect together.

Yao truly believed he was destined to be with Jun-Min, a dream that he yearned to have for so long from hearing the tales of the ancients and their destined love affairs.

That everlasting dream shattered one summer day, after his last year of secondary school.

Out along the shores one early afternoon, Yao knew his parents would have travelled to the town nearby in order to take care of business, and would not return until nightfall. Jun-Min had been quieter than usual that week, a stark contrast to his boisterous self, and Yao figured that it has been a while since they have been alone, and it may lighten his lover’s mood.

They silently walked up to the gates of Yao’s home, entering after casually greeting passerbys before entering Yao’s home, being sure to close the windows and the door in his small room in case of anyone attempting to peer through.

They touched and made love in secrecy, quietly that all can be heard is the sound of the birds singing outside, and as they laid on Yao’s small bed in the corner, Yao finally decided to ask his lover what had him remain quiet.

“Min-Min,” Yao said smoothly, as Jun-Min snuggled into his chest, Yao’s lithe arms around him. “You’ve been quiet the entire day. What’s wrong?”

After a silence befell them shortly, Jun-Min spoke.

“I need to tell you something, Yao,” Jun-Min said, pulling himself away from the embrace to look up to Yao.

“Is it that you love to admire me?” Yao teased, a cheeky smile on his face, but the lack of response to his joke from Jun-Min made his smile falter. He leaned on his arm slightly to give him a slight leverage to sit over Jun-Min.

“I’m planning on joining the military,” Jun-Min said softly, his tone inflecting slightly, lifting a hand to run his hand through Yao’s strands of hair that fell loosely under his ear, as if to soften the meaning behind his words.

Yao blinked, confused. He knew that there was a mandatory enrollment on the military roster once one turns 18, along with the mandatory military training and service for two years , however, actually being apart of the Chinese military afterwards was completely voluntary. The army had enough young men who wanted to play a part of protecting the motherland- and they had until the age of 22 to start the service, with Yao wanting to avoid service as long as he was legally allowed to.

“Yes, and you’ll be done in 2 years,” Yao continued, his voice unsure why Jun-Min had said it. Yao knew that his lover wanted to finish the service as quickly as possible, but had decided to wait a bit until they had settled on a home base. Jun-Min had wanted to try his hand at picking up a different skill while in Tianjin, the military and fisherman life not suiting him well.

“No, I…” Jun-Min’s voice trailed off, maintaining eye contact. “No, I mean I’m enrolling to the military. Permanently. I’m going to do my mandatory service as soon as I can and continue there.”

“I don’t understand,” Yao said, panick settling starting to grown. “I thought you were coming with me to Tianjin. We agreed that-”

“Things change,” Jun-Min huffed coldly, now turning his face to look forward, as Yao shifted himself to sit up alongside him. He continued with the same low voice, “I can’t just follow you blindly. I need to actually do something with my life. Joining the military would be beneficial- they receive a steady income and it’s easier than just doing anything I could find in Tianjin.”

“You’ve always been against doing the mandatory service,” Yao interrupted in a hushed voice, trying hard to keep his voice steady as a lump grew in his throat, making it hard to breathe. “This is the first time I’ve heard of you wanting to receive a steady wage or anything of this sort. If you honestly felt this way, then why didn’t you just tell me so I didn’t have to apply to Tianjin! I could have applied to someplace close by-”

“Why does what I do matter to you?” Jin-Min grumbled, the flame of anger in Yao growing. “It’s not like we’re engaged.”

“You promised me you’d live with me!” Yao replied sharply, exhaling as he put his face in his hands, trying to breathe. He didn’t understand what was happening- everything Jun-Min was saying was sudden. “What happened to you?”

A deafening silence ensued, the sounds of their breathing filling the air.

“Min?” Yao asked weakly, waiting for a reply.

No answer.

“Jun-Mi-”

“My parents arranged for me to get married!” Jin-Min exclaimed finally in a voice that Yao has never heard him use, his fists clenching harder to the point they were shaking.

Yao closed his mouth, gritting his teeth together, the lump in his throat swelling bigger. He tried to maintain the strength in his voice, but it came out broken. “How long ago did they arrange this?”

“A week ago,” Jun-Min whispered hoarsely, not looking up. He continued solemnly, “She’s a family friend from another village along the shore. She’s only a year younger than us, and…”

His voice trailed off, and Yao didn’t say anything, trying hard to swallow, feeling the tips of his eyes suddenly wet. He had known that Jun-Min’s parents wanted for him to marry, always bringing up the topic even when Yao is around, but Yao didn’t expect them to already find an engagement this soon after they finished their studies.

“They want me to marry her in early September.” That was only two weeks away.

“And you never told me?” Yao asked, and now he could feel his face slowly flush red, tears threatening to spill.

“How was I supposed to tell you,” Jun-Min replied half-heartedly, finally looking up to Yao, his face looking just as much distressed as Yao. “I want to join the military so I would be far away from them-this is the only way Yao.”

“It’s not the only way,” Yao replied lowly, but even he knew how hard it was to break an engagement. People always married for the honour of it, and breaking the engagement would only bring dishonour to Jun-Min and his family.

Yao tried to happy around Jun-Min the rest of the time they had together, but it felt as if he was drowning slowly in the waves, the pain only grower as days passed by. Yao refused to meet him near his place, and Jun-Min would go to his village, but they weren’t as close as they were that day.

That day was the last time Yao ever went swimming. It was the last time he went to the oceanside.

And it was the last time he saw Jun-Min as his.

I should have drowned.

The sky was as dark as they had left it, with the moon shifting slightly over to the west of Yao. Unless Yao was hallucinating the image in front of him due to the state of his body, unfeeling and exhausted. He took a deep painful breathe, his lungs feeling as if they were going to burst, but as soon as he felt his heart race decreased slowly to a normal pace, the cramps in his stomach tapered off slightly.

Maybe he should have drowned. But he didn’t. No, four hours of what he could equate to as the underworld, Yao found himself lying on his back on the sandy shores of assumed was the the land of his neighbours across the ocean border.

He had miraculously made it.

Dong, however, did not.

Yao had looked all across the shore, cold and hungry and tire, yet determined to find the man he would consider his elder brother. He stopped when the other men they had travelled with told him to give up.

He had to mourn Dong’s death silently, not wanting to appear weak in a time where he was the most vulnerable amongst these strangers.

The bandit that had greeted them on the shore was much kinder than the one that travelled with them to Shenzhen, however, there was still a conniving glint in his eyes- particularly when he had a good look at Yao, who was considerably smaller and slimmer than the other men. Thank the heavens he had decided to cut his hair once again before leaving- he may have been a target of unwanted attention if he had kept his longer hair.

Yao had to find his aunt, Chun-Yi. His aunt would have taken her husband’s name- likely he would have to look for Li Chun-Yi rather than Liang Chun-Yi. All he really knew about her from what his Mama had told him in a hoarse voice was that they owned a tavern, a building called The Golden Coast, much near the heart of the marketplace.

They traveled by foot, once again. A few of the older men had to stay behind to relax and catch their breath, while a few of the younger ones trudged along with Yao down the path the bandit took them on. The trees stood tall, their leafy branches almost forming a bridge over their heads, blocking out the sky and only allowing slivers of moonlight through.

Yao hugged his body tightly as they walked, the coolness of the night a curse for him this one time. He should have stayed behind and waited for his clothes to drench properly into the sand, but god knows what would have happened if he had stopped and stayed with the elder men. He was no safer now, but at least he was travelling at his destination without delay.

By the time they had left the densely packed part of the path, the sky was painted various warm shades of purple, orange, and pinks, with the sun silently peeking out from the horizon to the east. The air was much warmer as they progressed, and they soon reached a low plane filled with rice fields on both sides, the plants swaying with the wind that blew.

They reached what Yao assumed to be the town of Un Long, with it’s brick buildings taller than any Yao has ever seen in Guangdong. He could hear the distant sounds of the town life, and they neared a unguarded gate, where a few people entered and exited at will.

As the men that Yao travelled with walked in one by one, Yao noticed the bandit turning on his heels back to the path they had just taken.

“Wait,” Yao exclaimed when he saw the bandit start to trail away from the front. “I thought you agreed to take me to The Golden Coast.”

“The only thing I agreed to do was to take you folks to Un Long Town,” the bandit replied huskil, not bothering to look at Yao properly. “You’re on your own kid. Now scram before I gut your insides and sell 'em.”

A distasteful threat, and Yao frowned to show he did not want to be apart of some illegal organ donor cartel. He quickly left, walking down the dirt road that soon turned into cemented grounds, trying to avoid touching anyone that passed by.

As he looked at his new surroundings, taking in the people with their outfits Yao has rarely seen so commonly and the tall buildings with it's lights, for the first time in his life, Yao truly felt like he was alone in the world.

He could see that people were actually awake and walking along the sidelines, and a few were in front of the stores to pull up the metallic storefront gates, and he walked around them, his feet still bare.

After aimlessly looking around for a while, Yao came to the point where he truly had no idea where he was. He became overwhelmed by the sudden sounds of the rickshaw’s wheels rolling down the street, along with the squeaking of the buses stopping here and there along the sidelines, and the sounds of people yelling and talking in a dialect that was both familiar and unfamiliar to Yao. The business of the town made him uncomfortable and he needed to find his way to the tavern before he faints from exhaustion.

“Excuse me, sir," he asked a man who was quickly walking down the row, muttering something under his breathe. The man had a permanent frown on his face, and snapped when Yao stopped him.

“What is it kid?”

Yao was taken aback from the aggressiveness in the stranger’s voice, and how he looked like he wanted to leave quickly- a contrast to how slow paced were where he lived. “Can you tell me where The Golden Coast is? It’s a tavern owned by my aunt and-”

“It’s on the western side of the Shan Pui River,” the man said gruffly, gesturing towards the other side, before turning his back towards Yao to go about his business, leaving Yao at a loss of words.

This is how Hongkongers are, I guess, Yao thought absentmindedly, a bit annoyed with how blunt the man was, and he followed the direction where the man had gestured, only to reach what he assumed was the Shan Pui River. It was more of a stream than a river at this point, being thin and flowing downstream peacefully. Further up the river was a bridge connecting to the western portion of the town, and Yao hastily walked over the bridge, attempting to ignore how heavy his legs have become and the looks from passersby.

As he entered a path in the between the buildings, he was immediately hit with the scent of foods. There was a bakery closeby, and Yao looked through the glass to see platters of treats lined upwards to face out to seduce passerby into entering the shop. He held his stomach with his hand that made a low rumble, having not eaten since he had started his traverse into this new land, and quickened his pace.

The sun was poking through the sky quickly, and the air was turning hot. Yao desperately wanted to sit down and drink water, but he couldn’t afford to buy anything even if he had the time.

Then he saw it.

A sign hung outwards from a particularly wide wooden-like building, the red Chinese letters going downwards in a familiar fashion to Yao. He read the letter quickly, and relief washed over him.

The Golden Coast.

He had made it.

A newfound burst of energy coursed through Yao’s body and he sped up to the front of the building, barging through the front door without a second thought, the bell hanging over the door ringing loudly.

The room he had entered was empty, with it’s wooden tables and chairs scattering around the room. There was a woman who appeared to be behind the short bar across the room, scribbling something quickly on a notepad with her black charcoal pen. She looked up, not expecting someone to enter so suddenly, and Yao felt an overwhelming amount of clashing emotion swell inside him.

The woman almost looked like his mother, and Yao had to blink a few times to make sure he was looking at Chun-Yi and not Chun-Yan. Her black hair was twisted and pulled back into the back of her head to give the allusion she had short hair, and the pink cheongsam, while not made of the finest cloth, still gave her the air of someone who was well off- something his mother, who stayed behind in the village, was not.

“Ayi,” Yao said meekly, stumbling forward and knocking over a chair, and the woman’s thin eyes widened, her round rouge lips gaping, as she exited the bar to walk towards him. The adrenaline in his body had left and exhaustion replaced it, and he felt his legs buckling underneath him.

“Yao? Is that you?” The women exclaimed as Yao fell forward into the women’s outstretched arms.

He felt his vision blur, darkness slowly closing in as he looked up to the face above him. He wanted to speak, but his voice felt stuck in his throat, and he managed to whisper ‘Ayi’ once more. His eyelids drooped unconsciously, and he tried to open them, but to no avail- his body was giving in to the drowsiness that fell over him.

“Yao? Yao! Siu-Keung! Siu-Keung! Come here quickly! Call for Mr. Hui!”

The voices sounded distant as Yao felt his body being lifted as his conscious left, floating in a never ending darkness.

Notes:

The first stanza is from Zhou Xuan's song 'The Song of Four Seasons'

Un Long Town is the old name for modern day Yuen Long Town

Ayi is the Cantonese word for aunt (mother's younger sister)