The Foot of Great Wall
Bianca Chan, Group 3: Fiction, Maryknoll Convent School Secondary Section
High up on the watchtowers Sheng’s breath fogged and hung in the crisp October air. He carefully
scanned the treacherous terrain and looked for signs of irregularity. The day had merely broken,
bringing about gleams of pale sunlight but the birds had already begun their chorus of twittering and
chattering. He listened to the hum of the gentle breeze and the soft rustling of the bushes amongst the
lush green trees. Safeguarding the country had become a rudimentary routine for these frontline
soldiers. Tensions were running high against the Mongols and the troops all knew they were on the
brink of war.
“ ’
bout time for another trip to the action fields.” Ming said in a near whisper at breakfast. He was one of
the few companions that Sheng had managed to acquire in camp. Days of backbreaking labour and exhausting
drudgery had made him look well beyond his years. However, the mischievous glint in his eyes would give
away his tender age of 16.
“
How ‘bout a trip to the vendors?” Sheng replied, as he handed Ming a small bowl of rice. Rations were
poor and food was scarce. A pitiful amount of rice was their entire meal for the day. Young soldiers like them
would have to smuggle food bought from vendors at the foot of Great Wall during their much needed break
between shifts.
With a shrug of Ming’s shoulder, they set out for the valley floor below during sunset.
Sheng’s eyes travelled from one to another, the usual smudgy faces, the usual steamed hot buns and the
usual street cries. There weren’t much in the way of edibles from which to choose. Only a few stalls were
propped up mostly by impoverished farmers from nearby towns.
His stare came to a stop at an unfamiliar figure. It belonged to a woman in her early twenties. Hovering at
a corner, she was brittle, as if a gust of wind would blow her over. Her long dingy hair covered part of her face,
yet that did not hide the pouty full lips and her dazzling black eyes. Set in front of her, were ornamental crickets,
delicately made from rattan.
It reminded Sheng of the place where he had come from, a place where he used to spend many warm
summer evenings, enjoying the pleasant sounds of crickets chirping.
A bitter smile crept onto Sheng’s weathered face and he laughed silently to himself. Had it been five – or
was it six – years since he had been forcefully recruited to station in the remote border of the country? Had it
been years of chronic fatigue, demanding drills and strict orders? He didn’t have a clue, for days melted into
months, and months into years, and eventually the soldier himself had lost count.
“
Would you like to buy a rattan cricket?” A timid voice brought Sheng back to reality. It was Iike music
to his ears, clear as the running waters, and Sheng found himself fishing for two copper coins with which to pay.
2.
Jie woke up in near dark, when the stars still shone in the deep sky and the light of the moon leaked
through the door of the brush house. The lines of toil and tears on her face had smoothed and virtually
disappeared, and her heaving chest was the only sound of the night.
She had been on a desperate flight from home for some time, before finally deciding to settle in this rural
and rustic town near the Great Wall. Life on the run was far from the posh life she used to leading. Gradually
her clothes became tattered and torn, her physique gaunt and emaciated. Backwards and naïve in every sense of
the word, the villagers here all knew nothing about her. She was the only surviving offspring of the Wu ancestry,
one of the most affluent noble families of the time, until being accused of treason and conspiring against the
emperor. But unlike her parents, she had managed to escape unscathed.
Winter was drawing close and the small, abandoned farmland that provided her crops for the past few
months would be of no use when the first snow fell. Jie knew she needed a reliable income to sustain life
through the cold weather. Having stumbled across a rattan forest near the terrains, she began weaving the stems
into toy crickets, like how she distinctly remembered from the olden days when her nanny used to teach her.
With a slight weary sigh, Jie set out for the market at the foot of Great Wall. It was where all hawkers
meet to sell or barter wares, conducted mostly by local farmers. Today was her first time being there, and Jie
was nervous.
It was noisy, with occasional sounds of price bargaining, offering items ranging from flour dolls to fresh
produce. In sharp contrast, Jie seemed significantly out of place. She picked an inconspicuous corner to sell her
crickets, and waited for her first buyer.
Hours went by, yet nobody gave Jie a second glance - some were even completely oblivious to her
1.