He was surprised to see several groups of noisy tourists passing through the village, and followed them to
the foot of the Great Wall. Photographers were busily capturing pictures and hikers were admiring the view. His
village, with a rich history and an ideal position at the foot of the best-preserved section of the Great Wall in
China, attracted swarms of city-dwellers each day.
An Bao knew that it was generations of effort that made this area as great as it was today. He also knew
that his forefathers, in the imperial army of the Ming dynasty, had constructed this section of the Great Wall;
and that their descendants, including himself, would forever be the guardians of this magnificent dragon.
Four days passed in the blink of an eye.
Soon An Bao, with his train ticket in his pocket, was spending his last afternoon with his father.
They sat in silence, with the spring breeze caressing their cheeks. “I really do have to keep an eye on them,”
muttered Shou Cheng to himself.
“
On who?”
“
Why the tourists of course! You never know what they will do to our Great Wall!” The elderly Wang
gestured to a young man throwing a Coke can casually on the dirt road.
“
Well, tourists are not Mongols, nor foreign barbarians…what harm can they do?”
“
Well, you know that we never fought any invaders on the Great Wall,” said Shou Cheng. “All our
ancestors have done is keep the wall in good shape and store enough food for the war that never came.”
“
But father, you have fought to protect this wall, haven’t you?”
“
Ahh!” An Bao’s father beamed proudly and as his rich voice filled the air, An Bao seemed to be
transported back to the days of his childhood: he was perched on his father’s lap on a hot summer’s night,
listening in awe at the glorious tales of dragons, fairies and faraway lands. These splendid stories drove away
the summer sultriness, and seemed to bring with them a trail of magic.
“
When I was still young and strong, men from the neighboring village, the Zhangs, tried to pry the bricks
off our mighty wall to construct absolutely disgraceful things for their own benefit. I, being the head of our
village, gathered all our young men to fight for what was rightfully ours.” Here, a crescendo could be heard in
Shou Cheng’s voice. “We fought for three whole days and nights.” (His voice had now reached a forte). “We
could never, EVER let anyone tear the magnificent dragon apart and use the stone bricks for their bathrooms.
How could we let them destroy all the hard work of our ancestors? In the end we, of course, succeeded in
driving them off!”
Shou Cheng, overcome with sudden emotion, stood up and raised a fist into the air. He then fell back into
his chair, wheezing.
After a few minutes of silence, he concluded, “You can go back to Beijing now, my son. Don’t worry
about me; I’ll be fine here. When I go to my fathers, I shall not be ashamed in their mighty company. I’ve
fulfilled my duty as a guardian of the Great Wall.”
An Bao put his hand in his pocket, and was surprised to feel the remains of his return ticket. He had,
without noticing, quietly ripped it in half.
“
What will you say if I stay here?” An Bao asked.
“
And stare at me all day?”
“
No, I’m going to open a restaurant for these tourists, so we can look at them side by side.”
* * *