小猪 (Little pig)

     My childhood nickname. How ironic it was given how emaciated our bodies were as children when we roamed from village to village. Li Wai had christened me with it after I had wolfed down a piece of dried meat like a hungry pig which, in my defense, was perfectly normal behavior given my deficit of food for days.

     Even at a young age, I had recognized that this angry-looking boy was my best means of survival. Indignant though I was at his lack of manners, I trailed behind him for days until he finally accepted that he wasn’t going to shake me off easily. My decision back then probably saved me from meeting an early death; the survival skills I picked up from him having saved my skin countless times.

     And yet with another ironic twist of fate, those same skills almost rid him of his life at my hands. If my aim had been a little more toward the right, he would not be lying in bed with me by his side now. Observing him at this close range, I noted the lines across his forehead, the bags below his eyes, the tinge of grey at the roots of his hair. Age was catching up to us, the stress of our daily lives sucking away the youth that we should have. Where had all the time slipped away to, I wonder?

     “Tch.”

     His eyes still closed, Li Wai clicked his tongue. Recognizing his old habit, I moved backwards just in time before his right arm swerved up reflexively, his hand clutching an imaginary dagger. Now fully awake, he opened his eyes, immediately taking in the fact that I was seated to the right of his bed.

     “Empre-” He jerked up from his prone position, but the pain brought on by his sudden movement caused his hand to fly to his chest.

     I motioned for him to remain at ease. “Your wounds aren’t healed yet. Rest.”

     He uttered a short sigh and leaned backwards, resting his upper body on the brick wall. He looked around. “Where are we?”

     “One of the villager’s abode. They were kind enough to take us in despite our… suspicious circumstances.” I gestured at his wounds. “How are you feeling?”

     Examining the bandages that zig-zagged around his torso and arm, he flexed his muscles slowly. Satisfied with the first aid, he gave a sharp nod. “Pretty alright. But I need to get my strength back.”

     “Good.”

     I got up and walked across the small room. In the corner was a small wooden table, above which hung an oil lamp. The dim light cast by the lamp was barely enough to illuminate the tray of food resting on the table but thanks to the rays from the rising sun streaming in through the window above, the room was adequately lit. A short huff blew out the flame, saving the kind villager’s family just a little more oil.

     With the tray in hand, I crossed back to the bed and placed it on Li Wai’s lap. “Go ahead and eat up.”

     “Thank you.” He bowed his head before digging into the meal.

     Watching him devour the plain steamed buns, I was reminded of the boy from my childhood. “You really are that angry-looking boy from back then.”

     “Yes.”

     “When did you enter the army?”

     He swallowed the last of the buns and reached for the wooden cup of water. “About two years after you entered the palace.”

     I let out a humorless chuckle. “And here I thought you were still the coward you used to be. What made you change your mind?”

     There it was. The question I longed to ask was now hanging in the air, awaiting an answer. Staring at Li Wai, I watched as he placed the cup down, the water gulped down but his eyes still not meeting mine.

     “You.”