This is a reimagined version of the classic tale The Bridge To Terabithia. This Fanfic is going to be a part of my NaNoWriMo 2025 / Novel Writing November 2025.
LEONIE LANG
With hesitant steps, twenty year old Leonie descended the swirling staircase shaped and carved like a dragon's tail, leading to the living room. With shaky hands she gripped the balustrades adorned with delicate carvings of Plum Blossoms and Sakura.
She looked stunning in a tailored Cheongsam, its silk fabric shimmering with emerald green clovers and a backdrop of sapphire blue. The intricate embroidery on the bodice gilded with delicate Chrysanthemums, symbols of good fortune and longevity.
The fitted dress hugged her curves, the high collar and cap sleeves framing her heart-shaped face. A delicate silver pendant in the shape of a blooming Peony glimmered at her throat, adding a touch of elegance.
As she reached the landing near the living room the scent of freshly brewed jasmine tea and stir-fried Tofu with Kai Lan increased her hunger pangs. She had skipped breakfast this morning.
The soft hum of Guzheng music floating from the living room, always soothed her nerves which were always on the edge these days. It seemed to calm her to an extent. She was sulking all day and not up to any social visits this evening.
She took a detour and plonked herself angrily on the prized rosewood couch. The freshly polished furniture gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight which poured generously into the room from expansive windows on the west.
The walls were painted a soft, creamy white, providing a serene backdrop for the vibrant artwork and colorful tapestries that adorned the space. Every detail, from the intricately patterned rugs to the elegant bronze door handles, seemed to reflect her mother Mei's passion for beauty and tradition.
Delicate Orchids of varying colours perched on carved wooden stands, their petals and pendulous stems swaying gracefully in the light breeze making the spacious room come alive.
Nothing could cheer up Leonie who was lost in thought, glaring at everything. Her cheeks were beet-red from all anger pent up inside. The delicious aroma of freshly baked Chicken Bao wafting from the oven, mingling with the savory smell of Braised Pork Belly tempted her to have a plateful of all the goodies being prepared for the big day.
No ! I'm on a hunger strike. No amount of pacifying will work today. If they push me into a corner, I will run away and never return. I don't intend to get to know these people, not after their intentions had come to light.
****
Mei, with the help of the house cook, Jinli excitedly and expertly chopped scallions and ginger for the Mushroom and Bean Sprout Fried Rice with a ceramic knife, her hands moving with the precision of a skilled chef. She chattered away in muted tones—nineteen to the dozen.
The kitchen itself had a warm ambience with golden light spilling inside. It was buzzing with their busy but gentle pattering of feet, soft clinking of porcelain and the occasional sizzle of deep frying.
Vibrant red lanterns hung from the ceiling at the porch with the gilded woven threads dangling from the centre. It cast a festive glow over the front door and the entrance to welcome family at the Lunar New Year reunion dinner.
Leonie’s eyes scanned the rows of framed photos adorning the walls from where she was seated. They showcased her parents' childhoods in rural China and Taiwan, as well as her own milestones at school, at the arts academy and more recently her graduation from University.
A stunning Qing dynasty vase hand painted with landscapes of the far east sat atop a carved wooden cabinet, the fragile porcelain holding stalks of willow from which dangled the auspicious red packets with gold embossing. The matching planter bowls on either side flaunted flourishing Lucky Bamboo in them.
The house itself was a beautiful blend of traditional Chinese and modern elements. The exterior walls were adorned with hand painted phoenixes and dragons while the roof tiles shone a deep terracotta red. Inside, soaring ceilings and expansive windows flooded the rooms with natural light, highlighting the stunning wooden accents and the delicate beige hardwood flooring.
****
Totally restless, she fled to the backyard which was a tranquil oasis, complete with a tiny pond, a babbling fountain, and a carefully tended garden filled with Jasmine vines, Chrysanthemum shrubs , and fragrant Magnolia trees in full bloom. She picked a fallen flower and inhaled it.
A serene statue of Buddha sat nestled among the foliage, surrounded by Peach trees, his benevolent smile bestowing peace upon the surroundings. Nearby, a delicate jade pagoda rose from a bed of moss, the edges glinting soft green in the sunlight.
Thin tendrils of fragrant smoke wafted from incense sticks placed discreetly among the plants, infusing the air with the musky scent of Sandalwood and the subtle tang of Bergamot.
The pond was home to a colorful array of lucky Koi fish, their scales shimmering in shades of orange, white, and black as they glided effortlessly through the water. A winding stone path fringed by bushes of pastel pink roses invited exploration, leading to a secluded patio where Leonie's father, Raymond loved to sit and read the newspaper on lazy Sunday mornings and sip iced Red Date tea, which he relished to the last drop.
She made her way there and munched on a ripe, juicy peach she had plucked from the tree. Absent mindedly, she picked up the newspaper left on the tea table and the piece of article which stared her in the face, read:
10 years and more: Unsolved Disappearance/ Missing Child Leslie Burke from nearby Lake Creek District.
****
Raymond Lang, a man of imposing presence, sat in his study, a space that reeked of authority and discipline. His tailored charcoal grey suit hung impeccably on his broad shoulders, the fabric smoothed down by his frequent gestures as he worked at his desk. The crisp white shirt beneath with the subtle V-shape added a touch of ruggedness to his otherwise polished appearance.
A slim, intricately woven leather belt cinched at his waist, complemented the rich tones of his handmade oxfords, which creaked softly as he shifted his weight. The shoes, customized to his fancies from his trips to Italy, gleamed with a subtle sheen, reflecting the soft light filtering through the windows.
A simple yet elegant silver watch adorned his wrist, its minimalist design a counterpoint to the complex world of international business he navigated daily. The timepiece seemed to gleam in sync with the silver threads woven into his tie, a subtle pattern of interlocking circles that added a touch of sophistication to his overall ensemble.
His cuff links, small and discreet, were crafted from gleaming jade, their green hue a nod to his cultural heritage. One cuff link featured a delicate, expertly rendered Qilin, its gentle expression and curved horns embodying prosperity and good fortune. The other cuff link depicted a majestic crane, its slender form and outstretched wings symbolizing longevity and wisdom.
As he sat in his study, surrounded by the trappings of his success, Raymond exuded an aura of confidence and authority, tempered only by the faint scent of Cedarwood that wafted from his cologne.
His eyes, a piercing brown, seemed to bore into those who dared to cross him, their intensity unnerving even the most confident of individuals. His jaw, set in a firm line, spoke of a man who brooked no opposition and expected to be obeyed without question.
And yet, beneath the surface, there lurked a temper, a volatile mix of anger and frustration that could erupt at any moment, leaving destruction in its wake. A temper that had earned him the respect, and fear, of his family, his employees, and his peers.
*****
Mei's eyes were cast downward, her shoulders shrinking as she approached her husband. She clasped her hands together in front of her, a habitual gesture of deference, as she cleared her throat to announce her presence. "Have you seen Leonie?" her voice was laced with anxiety.
Her husband leaned back in his armchair, his legs crossed, exuding an air of authority. He steepled his fingers together, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded Mei, his expression stern. "What's wrong with her now?" he asked, his voice firm, his jaw set in disapproval.
Mei hesitated, her eyes searching her husband's face, her brow furrowed in concern. She took a small step forward, her hands still clasped together, as if seeking reassurance.
Her husband's response was immediate, his body tensing, his shoulders squaring. He uncrossed his legs and planted both feet firmly on the floor, his weight shifted forward, as if ready to spring into action. His eyes seemed to bore into Mei's, his gaze expectant, demanding an answer.
Mei's eyes dropped, her shoulders sagging slightly, as she admitted, "I don't know. I was hoping you might know where she is." Her voice was barely above a whisper, her words tumbling out in a rush.
Her husband snorted, his expression unimpressed, his upper lip curling in disdain. He shook his head, his gesture sharp, dismissive. He slammed his fist on the desk, making Mei jump. "You're the one who's supposed to be in charge of the household. Don't tell me you're not even aware of what's going on under your own roof?" His voice grew louder, his words clipped.
Mei took a step back, her eyes welling up with tears, her face pale. She nodded, her movement stiff, her hands twisting together in front of her. "I was busy with the kitchen. I thought maybe she was with you..."
Her husband's gaze hardened, his eyes flashing with annoyance. He swiveled his chair around, his back to Mei, and threw a pen across the room, where it bounced off the floor with a loud clatter. "Get out," he growled, his voice low and menacing. “And take that teacup with you. It's gone cold, no thanks to you! A man can't sip hot tea in peace."
He waved his hand dismissively, his gesture brusque. "Find her and tell her I want to see her in my study after dinner. We need to have a talk about her future plans."
Mei hastily picked up the teacup, her hands trembling slightly, and turned to leave. As she hurried out of the room, she could feel her husband's disapproving gaze burning into her back. Her heart raced with fear and she pressed her fingertips on her quivering lips once outside the door.
TO BE CONTINUED....
https://www.theblogchatter.com/blogrolls/chapter-3-bridging-memories-terabithia-reclaimed
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