Two summers past, the unfinished Great Wall is suddenly called to defend against the invasion of Jing.
Everyone was called to protect our battered country. Some volunteered, some were forced to join the army at the
Great Wall. I arrived the place I was most familiar with again.
The war was short. We lost. Blood flooded the place. The very wall which was built upon my father’s
flesh collapsed. People fell to their deaths, or were crushed by the fallen boulders. More people died for trying
to keep the remaining intact.
I stood among the martyrs. Through this gore and violence, I redeemed my long-lost soul. I saw my
father’s mind as I plunged into the fight. I saw the value of giving up myself. I was right all along. Devotion is a
merit.
Before knowing it, I was independent from my body. I became a ghost of the Great Wall. When and how
did I die? I have no idea.”
The young boy seems not to be very satisfied with the ending. His brows are crunched together, while the
high spirit in his eyes dampens. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but decides to purse his lips again.
“
It’s funny how I never met my father or all those people whose existences are conserved through this
magnificent structure.
Perhaps my life is so mingled with this place that I am to pass my legend on. Or perhaps I am just one of
the tenants here, but by chance have never crossed the path of another.
I do miss the good old days, when the wrecked part of my wall were slowly restored, and gradually
lengthened.
Seeing the swift passing moons and solemn hard-working people tread along…”
The summer sun rises, bringing in noisy crowds. My vision blurs, as I slip into my own story. The boy,
engrossed in his own contemplation now, turns away from me and walks on quietly.
He did not tell me what he made of my story, yet his silhouette seems a little different from what it was
like before.
* * *