Work Text:
The Silent Lament
“Huai’en,” Xiao Qi called, trying in vain to get his attention.
The younger man’s breathing was erratic, his pulse thready. Blood that had been flowing in rivulets earlier had been reduced to an unsteady trickle. His skin was soaked in a fine sheen of sweat and his eyes moved incessantly behind his closed lids. A deep frown creased his features, and his mouth was open in a soundless scream. Grasping his cold hand in his own, Xiao Qi wondered what fevered, tortured dream plagued his brother as he teetered on the precipice of death.
"Don't die, Huai'en," Xiao Qi whispered as he sat on the edge of the bed, hoping he could hold off Yán Wáng1 with his fervent prayers and desperate willpower.
Across from him, A’Wu sat hunched in a tight ball, her eyes staring into the distance. Based on the tight line of her lips and the frown on her face, Xiao Qi knew she was not happy.
“You’re upset,” Xiao Qi said, probing her gently.
“Does it surprise you?” A’Wu said in a voice that would have scared a lesser man. “You want to take him to Ningshuo? Him? He killed my father. My father! Xu Gu Gu. Hu Yao. Yu Xiu. All dead because of him. And you want to save him?”
“A’Wu –“
“He committed high treason, Xiao Qi!” A’Wu said in a brittle voice. “Don’t you see what is wrong?”
“High treason?” Xiao Qi said, slipping his hand from Huai’en’s weak grasp. “Who hasn’t committed high treason here in this court?”
A’Wu let out a deep huff but did not respond, making Xiao Qi mellow his voice. “A’Wu, you don’t have to like this, but please, let me do this for him.”
“Why? My father’s body hasn’t even turned cold, and you are trying to save his killer! Give me one good reason why I should let you do this?”
“Because he’s my brother!” Xiao Qi pleaded. “We’ve saved each other’s lives dozens of times on the battlefield and all I want is to save his one more time.” He leaned forward and placed a hand on A’Wu’s knee. “He begged me to take him to Ningshuo. This was his last wish. Let me fulfill the last thing he has asked of me.”
His wife crossed her arms and looked away. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears and her chin quivered.
“Look at him,” Xiao Qi said, pointing at Huai’en with his free hand, the other still resting on his wife’s knee. “He probably won’t even make it through the night, let alone go all the way to Ningshuo.”
A’Wu glared at the injured man. “I hope he doesn’t,” she spat.
“You don’t mean that.” Xiao Qi whispered.
“Don’t I?” A’Wu responded through gritted teeth. “If he lives, I will kill him myself.”
Xiao Qi opened his mouth but before he could object, Wang Su’s voice sounded from outside. “Xiao Qi, may I come in?”
The husband and wife exchanged a moment of strained silence before A’Wu stood and turned away, arms still crossed and posture taut. Sighing, Xiao Qi leaned back, returning his hand to Huai’en’s and beckoned his brother-in-law inside.
“I have started arrangements for father’s funeral,” Wang Su said as he walked in. He cast a glance at Huai’en’s bloodied form and winced. “Will he make it?”
Xiao Qi shrugged, “I don’t know. I hope he does.”
“I’ll send the imperial physician around,” Wang Su said.
“Gege!” A’Wu spun on her heels, aghast. “You too!”
“What?”
“You want to save him too?”
“I do,” Wang Su said.
“I don’t understand!” she screamed as her composure finally cracked. “Am I the only one who remembers him leading the coup? Don’t you realize the chaos he has unleashed?”
“Chaos?” Wang Su said, looking from Huai’en to A’Wu and back again. “What of the chaos that the Wang, Ma, and Xie Clans have put this country through for years? Yes, Huai’en led the coup. He was the spearhead. But who threw that spear? Father did. I did it. I knew father was manipulating him, and I…I pretended to be Huai’en’s friend and served him up to father.”
With a sigh, Wang Su sat down next to Huai’en, taking A’Wu’s recently vacated seat, and wiped the sweat from the man’s forehead. “If he dies, A’Wu, his blood will be on my hands. Just like Xu Gu Gu’s, and father’s, and all the rest are on mine, too. I share the culpability for everything that has happened today. My actions, or perhaps inaction, contributed to all this, perhaps in more ways than Huai’en did. If I hadn’t helped manipulate him, he wouldn’t have done any of those things. I need to do something.”
“But-“
“A’Wu,” Wang Su said, in a slow, steady voice. “I pushed him into this mess. Allow me to pull him out.”
A’Wu let out a long-suffering sigh and said, “Fine. Do it. But if he does make it through, keep him far away from me.”
And with that, A’Wu marched out of the room, leaving the three men behind.
Two days after the attempted coup, Wang Lin’s funeral was held alongside every other person who had lost their lives in the coup.
Much to everyone’s surprise, somehow, Huai’en had held on to his quivering breaths. On occasion, he would let out a loud and pained scream, but whatever tormented nightmare he was caught in would not ease its hold on him. He mumbled in his sleep, but his words were too garbled for anyone to make sense of them.
During the funerals, Xiao Qi ensured that someone maintained a vigil next to Huai’en, returning to his side as soon as he could. He did not dare leave the man unattended for even a moment. Somehow, word had spread that Song Huai’en had survived and in the wake of the coup, the sheer outpouring of hate for Song Huai’en coupled with his debilitating injuries, made him a very vulnerable target. Xiao Qi had to get him out or risk someone finding and killing him the first chance they got.
Xiao Qi settled on the chair next to the bed and picked up a cloth to wipe Huai’en’s face and hands. “Huai’en-ah, wake up. Let’s go to Ningshuo. We have to go.”
His brother remained unmoving, save for the erratic rise and fall of his chest. Even though he had been shot with quite a few arrows, the armor coupled and the silk shift underneath, had been able to lessen the damage. The problem, however, was the single spear wound to his abdomen. At Xiao Qi and Wang Su’s behest, the imperial physician had done all he could to patch Huai’en up, but Xiao Qi had seen very obviously that the man’s heart had not been in his work.
“Why did you do this? Why didn’t you talk to me?” Xiao Qi asked, cleaning out the blood from under his fingernails. He dunked the cloth in the basin of water. As he was wringing it out, a weak groan reached his ears. He whipped around and found Huai’en’s lips moving as he murmured something.
“Dàwáng,” he said in a low, tremulous voice. “Dàwáng.”
Xiao Qi bent closer, bringing his lips next to Huai’en’s ears, “I’m here. I’m here.”
He did not know if the unconscious man heard him or not for Huai’en continued to murmur, having an incomprehensible conversation with someone in his dreams. Just when Xiao Qi was about to sit up straight, Huai’en’s voice rang out the clearest that it had since his he lost his consciousness. “I’m not Xiao Qi!”
The words hit Xiao Qi like a slap to the face, making him jerk back.
Once, when he was eight or nine years old, Xiao Qi had fallen into a nearly frozen pond. Even to this day, he could remember the cold, the pain, the confusion, and fear that had enveloped him as he struggled to stay afloat until some fisherman had pulled him out.
Xiao Qi had been with Huai’en long enough to recognize the frustration and anguish in his voice, even when he was unconscious, and he recognized it now. This wasn’t the first time his brother had cried out in distress, but for some reason, Huai’en’s words just now had thrown him back into that the icy pond. Only this time, the pond he'd been plunged into was the realization that Huai'en's mind was struggling with something far greater than the pain of his physical wounds
“H-Huai’en?” Xiao Qi’s voice trembled. “Who says you are me? You are not. You are you.”
A’Wu had told him how Huai’en had declared that he would ‘have what Xiao Qi had, and also what Xiao Qi did not have,’ but somehow, her retelling had not had the same impact as those four words did coming from his half-dead brother’s lips. How long had Huai’en been comparing himself to Xiao Qi? Did he really think he wasn’t good enough? What poison had Wang Lin and those vile ministers been filling Huai’en’s head with? And why hadn’t Xiao Qi seen it in time to stop it?
Xiao Qi had known the struggle Huai’en had faced with being a lowborn living amongst the prosperity of the capital. He hadn’t confronted him or reprimanded him about the desire he had for riches. What lowborn didn’t dream of attaining that which was out of reach? But he had hoped that his gentle pushes would be enough to keep his friend from falling into that trap. Huai’en was one of the strongest men Xiao Qi knew, so why couldn’t he have stayed strong in the face of this struggle? Strong like...like Xiao Qi was…
‘I’m not Xiao Qi.’
Unbidden, tears trickled down his cheeks. Had he really done the same as everyone else? Had Xiao Qi compared Huai’en to himself? Believing that he was capable of the same things Xiao Qi was? Resilient to the same temptations? But he wasn’t. He wasn’t Xiao Qi. He was Huai’en, his comrade, his brother, whose needs and struggles were different from his own, and Xiao Qi hadn’t realized that. Perhaps if he had, Huai’en would not be lying here, fighting to survive.
Tears continued to stream down Xiao Qi’s face. He cried for his fallen brethren, for the fear and sheer hopelessness that engulfed him, and for the agony in Huai’en’s heart. His brother, his best friend, a man Xiao Qi loved like his own flesh and blood, was standing at death’s door, with one foot on each side. With a sinking clarity, Xiao Qi realized that he was essentially playing tug-of-war with death and Huai’en was the rope. At that moment, it dawned on Xiao Qi that he was not ready to lose Huai’en, and if he did, he would never recover from it.
Sitting alone in the room, with only an unconscious man for company, Xiao Qi felt the walls closing in on him. He took in a deep breath and allowed it to leave him in shuddering gasps. Next to him, Huai’en continued to mutter. Xiao Qi thought he could make out the words ‘giant of a man’ amidst the gibberish, but he could not be certain. As he looked on, a tear rolled down Huai’en’s eyes. Instantly, Xiao Qi reached over and wiped it with his sleeve.
“Xiao Qi.” Wang Su’s voice broke through the miasma of grief that was surrounding him and Xiao Qi ran a hand over his face to discreetly wipe his own tears. Suppressing a groan of exhaustion, he stood up and greeted his visitor.
“Come in, Jiangxiawang.”
Each step looked heavy as Wang Su walked in with a scroll in his hand. “How is he?” He sounded just as tired as he looked.
“Alive. He’s still alive.” Xiao Qi hoped that saying it often enough would stave off the alternative.
Wang Su nodded and said, “I tried. I wanted to get a full pardon for him, but I couldn’t.”
Xiao Qi shook his head. “That would be a miracle if you did. What he did was treasonous.”
“Indeed,” Wang Su replied in a whisper. “But I did manage to wrangle an exile for him.”
Xiao Qi’s eyes widened. “You did? How?”
With a nod, he handed the scroll to him and said, “I argued that he did remove Zitan, who had committed regicide. And he killed fa… Wang Lin, someone who had caused untold misery more than once. I reminded them of all the things that he had done for the country. I…” He sighed. “Regardless, I think what swayed their minds the most is the fact that he is nearly dead. I don’t think anyone expects him to make it past the capital. But yes, you have five hours in which to get him out of the capital. And if he is ever seen anywhere near the capital, he will be killed on sight.”
Xiao Qi nodded and bowed to Wang Su, impressed by his capability to pull off what they both had thought was nearly impossible. “I cannot thank you enough.”
“There is no need. I owed him this much. Take him and leave. Get him to Ningshuo. I will send A’Wu and his child along with Pang Gui and Tang Jin. Go now.”
The carriage couldn’t move fast enough. Somehow, word had gotten around that Song Huai’en was being taken out of the capital and that had brought people out on streets. While the escorting soldiers from the Ningshuo army ensured the carriage itself was not attacked, it did not stop the people from rallying a cry, demanding the death of the one inside.
“Kill the traitor!”
“Death to the traitor!”
“Plague on Su Yi Bo!”
Some people had even taken to throwing things. Shoes, eggs, and rotten vegetables rained on the carriage. Inside the safety of the four walls, Xiao Qi sat quietly next to the wounded man who was, mercifully, unconscious. Huai’en had, opened his eyes for a brief moment when he was being transferred into the carriage. But there had been no cognition in those eyes, no focus, no sign of the brilliance Xiao Qi was used to seeing in them. Instead, they had been clouded. Somehow, the sight of his blank eyes had jarred Xiao Qi in a way he was not prepared for.
“Huai’en,” Xiao Qi said as yet another chant reached his ears. “Please don’t listen to them. Listen to me instead.” He continued to speak to his companion, trying to drown out the noise from outside. “I know you. You are the bravest man and the best warrior I have ever met. I can’t lose you. You have made mistakes, yes. Horrible ones. But I know you. I know you would not have done what you did unless you thought there was no other way. I’m sorry, Huai’en. I was not there to protect you.”
“Su Yi Bo! Die!”
Something came hurling at the carriage, making it rock. Huai’en’s pained groan cut through Xiao Qi’s wounded heart like a knife. He scrunched his eyes, swallowing the scream that came ripping out from his very soul.
“Dàwáng, we are almost at the gate,” the soldier driving the carriage informed him.
Xiao Qi moved the curtain separating them a little and nodded, just to show that he had heard. Even if the soldier had not said anything, he would have known when they left the capital. The moment they stepped through the gate, the cries of the people baying for Huai’en’s blood dropped down to a mere murmur, and soon they were nothing more than a memory.
It was a warm day when A’wu’s carriage pulled into the grounds of Ningshuo. The air was filled with the beats of drums, welcoming their Wángfēi. Xiao Qi stood at the gates with his hands clasped behind his back. His face betrayed none of the plethora of emotions roiling within him. He was happy. Of course, he was happy. He was going to see the love of his life after almost a month. But they had not parted on the best of terms. A’Wu had not been pleased with his decision to bring Huai’en to Ningshuo. Perhaps if he had died on the way, she might have been mollified, but against all expectations, Huai’en was still alive. And A’Wu was not going to be happy about it. He would soon have to choose between the two people that mattered the most to him and it was breaking his heart.
The carriage came to a stop and Pang Gui hopped off his horse to aid A’Wu. She descended from the carriage in a picture of poise and dignity. Dressed in a black and gold gown, she looked resplendent, and Xiao Qi found his heart skipping a couple of beats. Even now, she had the power to take his breath away. Meeting her eyes, seeing her give him a small but genuine smile sent a thrill of pleasure and relief through him. It felt as though somewhere in his heart, a knot eased a little. A smile of his own bloomed on his face and his feet moved of their own accord, meeting his beloved wife midway.
“Xiao Qi,” she said and threw her arms around him, flooding him with peace. He wrapped her in a warm bear hug, chuckling a little when she let out a purring sound.
“I missed you, too,” he whispered in her ears. “Are you well?”
She took a step back and looked up at him, “I am. And you?”
“I’m fine.”
The smile on her face dropped and she asked the one question he did not know how to answer. “And him? How is he doing?”
“He’s alive.”
“I know, but that’s not what I’m asking.”
Xiao Qi sighed and said, “why don’t we go inside and talk?”
“No. I am not putting a foot inside the fort till I know what I’m getting into.”
He nodded, understanding her need to know and placed his hands on her shoulders. “He woke up about four days ago and hasn’t said a word since then. Refuses to even look at anyone. He just lays on the bed and stares at the ceiling.”
A’Wu nodded and licked her lips. “I want to see him.”
Xiao Qi’s eyes widened. This was not what he had been expecting. At all. “A’Wu?”
“Take me to him.”
Nodding, Xiao Qi clasped her hand in his and led her into the fort. The silence between them was heavy and strained as they made their way to the room where Huai’en had been staying. Four armed guards were stationed outside the room, both to keep people out as well as to keep the occupant in. Even though the soldiers at Ningshuo were not as vocal as the people in the capital, they still had anger in their hearts towards Huai’en and it was only Xiao Qi’s order that was keeping them from harming him. Giving a small knock on the door, Xiao Qi pushed it open. A’Wu’s hand tightened around his own as they walked in.
Huai’en lay on the bed as he had been since coming to Ningshuo, staring at the ceiling, unmoving. If he was aware that he had visitors, he did not show it. Once again, Xiao Qi was hit by the stark difference in his appearance.
His cheeks had sunken further, making his cheekbones stand out even more prominently. The wound to his abdomen meant that he could only eat a swill that barely provided nutrients. While he had been unconscious, Xiao Qi had ensured his grooming was taken care of by the servants, but since he had awoken, no one had wanted to come close to him. And so, his once neat beard was beginning to look unkempt, and his hair was oily. But what caught Xiao Qi’s attention the most were the deep, dark circles under his eyes. In front of him was a man who was broken in more ways than one.
“Huai’en-ah,” Xiao Qi called.
Nothing. He did not even blink.
“Huai’en?”
Still no response.
“This is how he has been since waking up. Nothing will get him to talk.”
A’Wu took a deep breath and said, “Song Huai’en.”
At that, he closed his eyes and turned his head away.
“Looking away will not solve the problem,” A’Wu said brusquely. “You will have to face what you have done. You will have to face me.”
When he continued to keep his face averted, Xiao Qi felt his wife tremble in obvious rage. She drew herself to her full height. “Look at me! I know you can hear me, so look at me! The Song Huai’en I know is not a coward!”
At that, a coughing, racketing laugh emitted from his lips. Very slowly, and with a small groan, Huai’en began to sit up. Xiao Qi took a step forward to help him but A’Wu tugged him back, just as Huai’en held up a hand and shook his head.
“Don’t touch me,” he said in a voice that sounded even more hoarse than usual. Xiao Qi stood back and watched as he struggled to sit up before looking at A’Wu, keeping his eyes averted from Xiao Qi. “The Song Huai’en you know? The Song Huai’en you knew would have bowed down to you both. But I won’t. The Song Huai’en you knew would not have rebelled. I did. The Song Huai’en you knew is dead.”
A’Wu scoffed, “Really? You seem pretty alive to me.”
“Breathing, Yuzhang Wángfēi. I’m breathing,” he said. “It’s not the same.”
“Just so you know, it was my brother and Xiao Qi who saved you. The very Xiao Qi you rebelled against. The one from whom you wanted to take everything.”
“I know,” he whispered.
Realizing that she was not going get the response she wanted from him, she changed her tactic. Crossing her arms against her chest she said, “You are here, in Ningshuo. Against my wishes. Remember that. You are here simply because of Xiao Qi’s goodwill. You will stay in this room. At all times. You will never be a part of the family here. You are nothing but a glorified prisoner, Su Yi Bo.”
At the mention of that name, Huai’en gave a small jerk. “Su Yi Bo,” he whispered but said no more.
Having said her piece, A’Wu turned on her heels and marched out of the room. At the door, however, she paused, not looking back, and said, “Oh and just so you know, Yu Xiu’s son is with me.”
Without waiting to hear his response, she left. Huai’en sat on the bed, his head bowed, hand draped over his knee. With a sigh, Xiao Qi turned to leave, but stopped when he heard a voice behind him. “Why did you save me?”
Xiao Qi turned around, frowning. “Because you asked me to. It was your last wish to me before you fell unconscious.”
Huai’en let out a slow breath and said, “then you are a bigger fool than I can describe.”
“Song Huai’en!” Xiao Qi reprimanded.
“I’m not your subordinate anymore, Xiao Qi,” he responded in a low voice. “Nor am I Su Yi Bo. I am, as Yuzhang Wángfēi so kindly reminded me, a glorified prisoner. I don’t owe you any respect or formality. I am not going to censor words. Not any longer.”
Xiao Qi sat down at the foot of the bed. “So you have a lot to say, hmm? I’m listening. Speak. Explain yourself.”
“Explain?” Huai’en said sounding incredulous. “What is there to explain? I’m the villain. The traitor. The taint of your life. Brand me as that and discard me.”
“If I wanted to discard you, I would have done so long ago. I didn’t want to. I still don’t want to.”
Huai’en sighed. “After a point, kindness becomes cruelty. And what you did to me is extremely kind.”
“You’re angry.”
“Angry? Yes, I am angry. I should have died. But you decided to save me, once again proving just how great you are and how petty I am. Yes, Xiao Qi, you have defeated me. Thoroughly. And you have punished me justly. You didn’t let me die. No. Instead you condemned me to a fate worse than death.”
Huai’en was overcome by a fit of coughs. His entire body shook, and his face contorted in obvious pain. Even though every fiber of his being urged him to do so, Xiao Qi knew that he couldn’t offer him the support he so desperately wanted to, because Huai’en would no longer welcome his touch. Instead, he held out a cup of water, which was ignored. Once the coughing died down, Huai’en brushed a glob of blood from his lips.
“See?” he croaked. “A broken body, a fallen reputation, drenched in the blood of friends and foes alike… I have to live with this weight. I–“
His words tapered away as yet another, smaller bout of coughs racked his body.
“You’re mistaken, Huai’en,” Xiao Qi said once the younger man gained control of his breathing again. “I was not looking to defeat you or punish you. I truly thought you were going to die. I was merely granting a brother’s dying wish.”
“Brother? You…still think of me…as a brother?” His voice sounded as though every word hurt. And not just physically.
”I do. For me, you are and always will be my brother-in-arms.”
Huia’en’s breath was labored, and he was drenched in sweat. His face was ashen, and his body swayed slightly as he sat upright, through sheer will. His words were slurred as he said, “If…if you truly mean wh…what you’re saying, then…do me a favor. One last thing.”
Xiao Qi let his silence do the talking.
“M… My son… He’s innocent. Don’t… don’t… let… my shadow fall on him,” he swayed, his eyes rolling back in his head for a moment before he pulled himself together again. “Take care of him. T-tell him… tell him…his mother was…the bravest… sweetest…most wonderful…person.”
“I will.” Xiao Qi promised. He set the cup on the table by the bed. “Rest now, Huai’en. You are in no condition to talk. I will come later.” And with that, Xiao Qi stood up and turned to leave.
Just before he reached the door, he heard Huai’en croak, “Th…Thank you… Dàwáng.”
That night, Huai’en fled from Ningshuo.
Xiao Yu Bin skipped along the plains of Ningshuo as he sang a ditty. He was tall for his age, with a lithe built and a remarkable face. Silken strands of hair fluttered in the wind. A long stick sat at the back of his neck, resting on his shoulders while his hands were draped on the ends. A couple of rabbit carcasses hung from the stick while a knife was tucked in his belt. He chewed on a blade of grass as he sang tonelessly. His happy song suddenly came to a halt when he spotted a man a few steps ahead of him. This man was walking slowly, bent over a walking stick. He had a tattered straw hat on his head, which as far as the nine-year-old boy could see, offered no protection whatsoever.
Yu Bin twirled the blade in his mouth and watched keenly. There was something about the man that was not quite right. He had seen soldiers all his life and he knew that they had an exactness in their movements that regular people just did not possess. Even though he could only see his back, Yu Bin could tell the man had that same exactness in his movements. Yes, his clothes were ragged, his form slightly bent, and his walking slow, but Yu Bin was convinced in a way only a child could be, that the man was a soldier. Unable to contain his curiosity, the boy ran over to the man.
“Ah, Lǎo rén 2 –“
“Get lost!” the man wheezed, not even looking at him.
Up close, Yu Bin thought the man looked dirty. His shoulder-length black and grey hair was unwashed, and his beard was long and clumpy. He was thin, the clothes on his back seeming to weigh more than him, and yet there was something about him that made Yu Bin think of a man in black armor. Ignoring the man’s attempt at shooing him away, the child continued.
“Lǎo rén, who are you? I have never seen you here before. Where did you come from? Where are you going? Where is your family? What’s your name?”
The man gave a sigh that Yu Bin had seen grownups give from time to time. The one where they closed their eyes and let out a huff from their mouths, their shoulders moving with the breath. But unlike the other grown ups in Yu Bin’s life, this man did not stop to talk to him. Instead, he continued to walk. Unfazed by the snub, Yu Bin continued to walk next to the man.
“Lǎo rén, you know, I think you–“
The man paused and keeping his eyes on the ground, said, “child, has no one ever told you not to talk to strangers?”
Yu Bin thought for a moment and said, “yes, but…I don’t think you’re a stranger.”
“I thought you said you have never seen me before?” the man replied dryly.
“I haven’t, but I have seen a lot of people like you.”
A puzzled frown creased the man’s brow and he looked at Yu Bin. “What does that…” He paused mid-sentence and looked at Yu Bin, his eyes widening slowly. “Wh-who are you?”
Yu Bin grinned, showing off the gap where his pre-molar had fallen out. “Xiao Yu Bin.”
The tall man bent down to come to Yu Bin’s level and said, “X-Xiao Yu Bin?”
Yu Bin nodded. He was proud of his name and he loved explaining what his name meant. He would tell it to anyone who would listen. “Xiao is the family name of my adoptive father. Yu meaning to take, was taken from my mother – the bravest, sweetest, and most wonderful person there ever was. Bin, as in the best man, is what my adoptive father says my real father was. Xiao Yu Bin!”
The man was looking at him with his mouth hanging open. Yu Bin put down the stick from off his shoulder and looked at the man, confused.
“Lǎo rén, are you feeling alright? Lǎo rén?” Yu Bin waved a hand in front of the man’s face.
“Huh?”
“What happened to you? You look like you’re about to fall sick.”
“It’s just…you…look a lot like someone I knew.”
“Really?
He nodded. “What…what did you mean when…you said you have seen people like me?”
“Soldiers. I have grown up around soldiers and I know one when I see one,” Yu bin said, nodding.
The man raised his eyebrows and gave a small, twisted smile, “Soldier? And what do I fight with? This walking stick? Or do I block the arrows with this straw hat?”
Yu Bin sniggered. “No, Lǎo rén. What I mean is, you are not a soldier now, obviously. But you were a soldier.”
The man gave a snort of a laughter and said, “Not any longer.”
“But you were, right?”
“Yes, I was,” he said, nodding slowly. “A long time ago.”
“I knew it!”
The man patted his head just as Yu Bin asked, “what’s your name, Lǎo rén?”
“Wu Ming3,” the man said, running his fingers through Yu Bin’s hair, while his eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
“Wu Ming? Nameless?”
“Nameless,” the man agreed.
“How can you be nameless? You must have a name!”
Wu Ming tucked a strand of hair behind Yu Bin’s ear and said, “Long ago, I did have a name. But I gave it up. Today, people call me Wu Ming.”
“Gave up your name? Why?”
“That is a story for another time,” Wu Ming said, “Where do you live?”
“I live in Ningshuo Fort,” Yu Bin answered.
At that, whatever color was left on Wu Ming’s face, drained away. His eyes roamed all over Yu Bin’s face, his lips trembling. Wu Ming let out a sob as he grasped Yu Bin’s shoulders and arms. For reasons he could not quite understand, he felt completely safe in Wu Ming’s presence. His touch was familiar. Reassuring.
“Y-y- you… Yu Bin…wh…what’s your mother’s name?”
“Xiao Yu Xiu,” Yu Bin replied promptly. “She was my adoptive father’s sister.”
The man let out a gasp that was very obviously mixed with tears. “Yu Bin. Yu Bin.”
Before Yu Bin could understand what was happening, Wu Ming wrapped his arms around him. Without knowing what prompted him to do it, or why, Yu Bin hugged the man back as Wu Ming wept.
The children were especially noisy today. As Xiao Qi walked out on to the yard, he heard Yu Bin’s excitable chatter as he was describing something to the others.
“What is happening?” Xiao Qi asked, walking to the gaggle of children.
“Yu Bin met a man with no name,” Su Chen said, laughing. “A nameless man!”
“What?” Xiao Qi said as he sat down. “Yu Bin? What is Su Chen saying?”
“Really! I met a man while I was out hunting and –“
Xiao Qi’s lips thinned. “Yu Bin, you know you shouldn’t talk to strangers.”
“I know, diē,” Yu Bin said, pouting. “Wu Ming said the same thing.”
“Wu Ming? Are you sure that’s his name?”
“Yes. Wu Ming. Nameless. Listen, diē,” Yu Bin said as he settled down next to Xiao Qi. “This man, Wu Ming, you know, he walked a lot like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yes,” the excited child spoke rapidly, clearly enthralled by this new man he had met. Xiao Qi, however, was wary. He needed to know who Wu Ming was and why he had taken an interest in Yu Bin. He paid close attention to the words of the boy. “I mean he was walking with a stick and he had dirty hair and a messy beard and everything, but still, he walked like a soldier. You know? Like you. And…and you know diē, he said I look like someone he knew.”
A sudden, wild thought made Xiao Qi catch his breath. “He said what?”
“That I look like someone he knew. He asked me where I lived and what my mother’s name is. And when I told him, he hugged me and cried. He cried so much, diē.”
“H-he cried?”
“Yes, diē. A lot.”
Xiao Qi did not need to hear more to know who Wu Ming was. His heart thudded wildly in his heart as he muttered some excuse to pull away from the children. Through sheer will, he kept his strides measured and his posture erect till he reached a secluded spot. Alone, his shoulders crumpled, and his steps faltered. Xiao Qi leaned against a wall, feeling a tremor run through him.
He’s alive. He’s here. I will find him and bring him back.
Unbidden, a name he had not uttered in years, slipped from his mouth. “Huai’en.”
- Yán Wáng - God of Death in Chinese Mythology.
- Lǎo rén - Old person/old man
- Wu Ming -No name/anonymous