A Secret Map to the Kellie’s Castle Tunnels

Xiao Li loved old things. Not just old toys or old clothes, but REALLY old things – like ancient pots, dusty books, and crumbling buildings. That’s why his favourite place to visit with his Grandma, Popo, was “Kellie’s Mansion,” as everyone in their kampung called it. It wasn’t really a mansion anymore, more like a grand old ruin, half-finished and half-eaten by the jungle. But oh, the stories Popo told about it!

“This place, ah, so many secrets,” Popo would say, fanning herself with a woven mat. “The Scottish tuan who built it, he put his heart and soul into every brick. But then… poof! Gone too soon.”

Xiao Li imagined the tuan, a stern but kind man with a big moustache, overseeing hundreds of workers. He loved the idea of secrets. He’d spend hours scrambling over the moss-covered walls, peeking into dark corners, always hoping to find something amazing.

One sweltering afternoon, while Popo was napping in the shade of a big rambutan tree, Xiao Li was exploring the deepest, darkest part of the mansion – the old wine cellar. It was damp and cool, smelling of earth and time. He ran his hand along the rough stone wall, imagining barrels of fancy grape juice stored there long ago. His fingers brushed against something loose.

Tap, tap.

He pushed harder. A small, flat stone shifted inwards! Behind it was a tiny, dusty alcove. Xiao Li’s heart did a little thump-thump. He reached in and pulled out a small, rolled-up scroll, tied with a brittle, faded ribbon.

“Wah! What’s this?” he whispered, his eyes wide.

He carefully untied the ribbon. Inside was a piece of aged, brittle paper. It wasn’t a story, like he first thought. It was a map! But not a map of the mansion itself, or the kampung. It was a strange, hand-drawn sketch, with squiggly lines and odd symbols. In one corner, barely visible, were the words: “The Secret Paths of Willow Creek.”

Xiao Li gasped. Willow Creek was the name of the river that snaked around the back of the mansion!

He ran to Popo, waving the map. “Popo! Popo! Look what I found! A secret map!”

Popo, startled awake, squinted at the map through her spectacles. “Aiya, what is this, boy? More of your treasure hunting fantasies?” But as she looked closer, her eyes widened a little. “Hmm, this paper… it’s very old, lah. Where did you get this?”

Xiao Li explained about the loose stone in the wine cellar. Popo hummed thoughtfully. “The tuan was a clever man. He loved puzzles. Maybe… maybe this is real, Xiao Li.”

The next day, armed with the map, Popo’s old compass, and a small torch, Xiao Li and his best friend, Mei Lin, set off. Mei Lin was practical, always thinking things through, which was a good balance to Xiao Li’s dreaming.

“Are you sure this isn’t just a drawing, Xiao Li?” Mei Lin asked, adjusting her straw hat. “It looks like something my little brother would draw.”

“No, lah! Look at the paper! And Popo said it’s old! It says ‘Willow Creek’ and see this symbol? It looks like the big banyan tree near the river!” Xiao Li pointed excitedly.

They followed the dusty path behind the mansion, past the overgrown gardens, until they reached the riverbank. The sun dappled through the leaves, making dancing patterns on the water.

“Okay, so the map shows we start at the banyan tree,” Xiao Li said, tracing a finger over the map. “Then we follow the river for a bit, and there’s a symbol like… a snake?”

“A snake?” Mei Lin giggled. “Maybe it means a bend in the river, lah, not a real snake!”

They walked along the river, keeping an eye out for landmarks. Soon they found the big banyan tree, its roots like giant twisting snakes themselves. They followed the path shown on the map, past a cluster of bamboo, and then…

“Look!” Mei Lin exclaimed, pointing. “A small clearing! And… is that a small, overgrown hill?”

The map showed a small mound with an ‘X’ on it. This mound was covered in thick vines and thorny bushes, almost completely hidden.

“This must be it!” Xiao Li shouted, his voice echoing a little. “The ‘X’ marks the spot!”

They spent the next hour carefully pulling away vines and snapping branches. Underneath, they found a small, almost hidden opening in the side of the mound, just big enough for a child to crawl through.

“Wow,” Mei Lin breathed. “It’s like something out of a storybook!”

Xiao Li shone his torch inside. The tunnel was dark, cool, and earthy-smelling. “Are you scared, Mei Lin?”

“A bit, lah,” she admitted, but her eyes were shining with excitement. “But more curious!”

Together, they squeezed into the tunnel. It was narrow and low at first, making them crawl on their hands and knees. Xiao Li kept the map clutched in one hand, the torch beam dancing ahead. After a few metres, the tunnel widened, and they could stand.

“It’s going down,” Mei Lin observed, her voice hushed.

The air grew cooler, and the sound of the river faded. All they could hear was their own breathing and the drip, drip, drip of water somewhere in the darkness.

“The map shows a fork here,” Xiao Li said, stopping. “One way goes straight, the other curves right. The ‘X’ is down the straight path.”

They chose the straight path. It sloped gently downwards for what felt like a long time. Suddenly, the tunnel opened into a larger chamber.

“Wah!” both children exclaimed.

It wasn’t a treasure chest filled with gold, like in pirate stories. Instead, the chamber was lined with old, rough shelves carved into the rock. On the shelves were dusty wooden boxes, broken pottery shards, and a few rusted tools. It looked like an old storage room.

“What is all this, Xiao Li?” Mei Lin asked, picking up a smooth, dark stone.

Xiao Li shone his torch on a small, wooden plaque nailed to the wall. It was covered in faded, elegant script. He tried to read it. “It’s… old English, Popo taught me a bit. It says… ‘For the Preservation of Knowledge and Memory. Let Future Seekers Understand the Past.'”

“Preservation of knowledge?” Mei Lin repeated. “So, this isn’t a treasure of money, but a treasure of stories?”

Xiao Li carefully opened one of the wooden boxes. Inside, wrapped in old cloth, was a stack of yellowed papers. They were letters, written in beautiful, flowing handwriting. He carefully unfolded one.

“It’s from the tuan!” he whispered, his eyes scanning the words. “He’s writing to his family back home. He talks about how hard it is to build the mansion, but how much he loves this land and the people here.”

Mei Lin opened another box. It contained sketches – detailed drawings of the mansion’s construction, diagrams of old machinery, and even portraits of some of the workers.

They spent hours in that secret chamber, carefully examining the artifacts. They found old newspapers, preserved from decades ago, telling of village life. They found tools used for farming and building, different from the ones used today. They even found a small, beautifully carved wooden bird, obviously a gift from someone.

“This is amazing, Mei Lin,” Xiao Li said, holding up a faded photograph of the tuan with a group of smiling local workers. “He wasn’t just building a house for himself, he was building a community.”

“Yeah,” Mei Lin agreed, tracing a finger over a drawing of a traditional fishing boat. “These things tell us about everyone who lived here, not just the rich tuan.”

As the afternoon light began to fade, they knew they had to leave. They carefully placed everything back as they found it, promising to tell Popo every single detail.

Crawling out of the tunnel, blinking in the late afternoon sun, they felt different. It wasn’t just the thrill of finding a secret place. It was the feeling of connecting with the past, of understanding the stories of the people who came before them.

When they arrived back at the mansion, Popo was waiting, sipping tea. “So, my little adventurers, what did you find? Ghosts? Gold?”

Xiao Li and Mei Lin looked at each other and grinned.

“Better than gold, Popo,” Xiao Li said, his voice full of wonder. “We found stories. We found out about the tuan, and the workers, and how they lived here. We found out why Kellie’s Mansion is so special.”

Popo smiled, a knowing twinkle in her eyes. “Ah, sometimes, the best treasure is not what you can hold in your hand, but what you can hold in your heart and mind, eh?”

Xiao Li nodded, looking back at the grand, silent ruins of Kellie’s Mansion. It wasn’t just an old building anymore. It was a living book, filled with pages waiting to be read, secrets waiting to be understood, and stories that now, thanks to him and Mei Lin, would continue to be told. And he knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning of his adventures in uncovering the past. The secret map hadn’t just led him to a tunnel; it had led him to a deeper understanding of history and the rich tapestry of his own homeland.