The Whispering Wall
James Goh, Group 2: Fiction, German Swiss International School
utianyu is a small village nestled amongst the pines in the mountains north of Beijing, and sits
below the majestic Great Wall of China which curls and slithered silently towards the distant
horizon. Ming was a small boy for his age. His eyes were hazelnut brown and his hair was jet
black. His skin was smooth but already tanned by the powerful sun. He was a good boy with a
great sense of humour and a clever little brain. He had good manners and always remembered to
say “please” and “thank you.”
Ming lived in a little thatched hut constructed of twigs, mud and straw. It was round and had a soft bamboo
floor. One day as Ming sat carving a snake out of wood, a loud thump on his humble wooden door made him
drop his carving tool. Carefully, Ming opened the door to find his father carrying heavy bags of fresh grain.
Ming was happy and surprised because his father was home earlier than usual from harvesting his crops.
M
Ming’s father sat down on some straw and Ming crouched next to him.
“
Ming,” said his father.
“
Yes?” replied Ming.
“
I have a rather good surprise for you!” his father said in a soft, low voice and a twinkle in his eye.
“
I have noticed your interest in the Great Wall and now that you are strong enough to climb the steps, we
will spend tomorrow, your birthday, walking along part of the wall! We will take food and water so we can stay
the whole day and I’ll tell you lots of stories about Great Wall!” continued his father with bright, wide eyes.
Ming was overjoyed. He had wanted to explore the wall for as long as he could remember but was always told
that he must wait until he was old enough! Now his dream was going to come true!
That night, Ming was far too excited to sleep so he lay awake thinking about the next day’s trip. Just as he
was finally drifting off, he thought he heard some soft whispering in the distance but he could not make out the
words. In the morning, his father woke Ming up early so that they could watch the sunrise from on top of the
wall.
As they walked up through narrow streets, shopkeepers preparing their market stalls waved and sang out to
them.
“
Happy birthday, Ming!”
“
Enjoy the Wall, Ming!”.
Finally they stood at the large, granite gateway, and Ming felt joy and delight running through him. After a
long, exhausting climb up hundreds of steep, rough steps, they stumbled at last onto the gigantic, historical
artefact, just as the golden sun rose from behind lush, green mountains in the distance.
As he and his father walked along the wall, Ming listened to amazing stories about the blood, sweat and
tears that had gone into its construction. He felt sad for the thousands of people who had died but he was happy
to hear that the wall had put a stop to the deadly war with the Mongolians. Ming was very impressed by and
proud to be an ancestor of the people who had built this structure.
The wall seemed to have no end as it stretched on into the distance. He loved the golden yellow of the stone
that shone in the sun, and the great height he looked down from at a turret’s edge. The top was crenelated on
each side and looked like a row of giant jagged teeth. The wall was dotted with watchtowers evenly spaced all
along the way. The colossal size of the wall made Ming feel tiny and unimportant.
By the end of the day, Ming and his father had walked a total of twenty miles. They arrived home late that
evening, weary but happy and Ming recounted to his mother excitedly his new experience.
That night, Ming could not fall asleep again. His bed was hot and scratchy and the air smelled of dry mud.
There were rustling noises outside and he could hear scuttling of beetles and cockroaches. There it was again,
that soft whispering noise drifting inside as it had the night before. Curiously, Ming opened the door but he
could not see a soul. There, not so far in the shadowy distance, a voice slow, low and soft like an old man’s.
Ming caught a few words only: “I have seen many lives lost in battle. I have felt pain and sorrow and looked for
a better way. Now I am at peace and I will continue to protect China”. It was if the wall was talking to him.
Ming sat up in his bed. Had it all been a dream? Then the most peculiar thing happened. He heard the voice
calling his name! He ran to wake his father and mother, but they could not hear anything and scolded him back
to bed.
Ming realised that only a few could hear the Great Wall speak and he was one of the special ones.
* * *