‘Kowloon Walled City was knocked down decades ago,’ said Mr Crew Man. ‘Why is he sending you there?’
‘Teacher Tam, you mean?’ shouted Jasmine. She couldn’t hear his answer because she was somersaulting through the air with Gramps. ‘Enjoy!’ he called. ‘Because who knows? We may never fly again.’
They landed in the park, once a haven for crime and drugs. Jasmine imagined tattooed men making mysterious signs with chopped fingers, the whirr of printing presses, foul smells. Now the place was as peaceful as heaven, with pavilions and gardens. Trees swayed in a gentle breeze. Birds tweeted.
Jasmine sketched an image of the yamen. A model showed the pretty little village it used to be the heart of it. A Chinese official lived here until 1899, she read from her app. ‘Gramps, can you see the envelope anywhere?’ she said.
The sun dipped behind a cloud. It was getting late. An evening breeze ruffled Jasmine’s sketchbook. The following day, school term would begin. She never knew Hong Kong had such a fascinating history. Thanks to Teacher Tam for planning such a fantastic project for her! She ran over to Gramps and hugged him. ‘Thanks for accompanying me,’ she said.
Now where was that last envelope? She and Gramps leaned against rails looking down at two ancient boulders left where archeologists had found them while digging up the ground. ‘I see it,’ said Gramps excitedly, pointing to the one inscribed with the characters ????.
Sure enough, tucked in a crack, the envelope fluttered in the wind. Jasmine politely asked a park attendant to go down to get it for her.
The paper was folded in four. There was no clue, of course. Jasmine’s heart clenched. But on the paper someone had written the letter N.