I’m pretty sure I can see a flush in his cheeks. He nods in agreement and soon curls up and sleeps. Once again, I have to fight the urge to watch him and find other things to distract myself. We switch halfway through the night, and I fall asleep easily, with no dreams this time.
When morning comes, I wake to find Li Wei gone. Panic hits me, and then I hear footfalls and see him approach through the lingering fog. Sorry, he says, seeing my expression. I just wanted to look around. You won’t believe what I found farther around the mountain.
What? I ask.
A mine entrance—an old one. It doesn’t look like it’s been used in a while.
There must have been people here then, I say, searching around as though I expect them too to appear through the mist.
At some point, he agrees. I didn’t go in, but the mine doesn’t look nearly as big as ours. Do you want to look around before we go?
I hesitate. We’re down to one meal pack, and lingering puts us farther away from getting to more food. And yet the mystery of the mine is too alluring. Who would have worked in it? Certainly no one from our village. Did workers come up from the township? Or is there some settlement here on this forested plateau?
We need more water as well, so we agree to make finding it part of our exploration. We split the last meal, and as that food disappears, I find myself thinking of the village we left behind. A full day has gone by now, and our absence will have long been discovered. What will people think of us? What will Zhang Jing think? Will my note be enough to maintain her faith in me?
A sound I’ve learned to recognize by now soon alerts me to a water source. I steer Li Wei toward it, and we find a small trickling tributary that runs through the plateau. He looks impressed, and I can’t help but feel a little pride as I fill our canteens.
I wouldn’t have found that nearly so quickly, he admits.
I hand him his canteen and tuck my own away. I guess I’m of some use after all.
He smiles at that. General, you’ve long since proved your use.
Don’t call me— My hands drop as my eye catches something in the trees beyond him. Seeing my change of expression, he turns, searching for what I noticed. Soon he sees it too: the large, looming shape of a building on the other side of the trees. Turning back to me, he meets my eyes, and I give a quick nod of agreement. We head in that direction . . .
. . . and find not one but many buildings.
We have stumbled onto a small village—much smaller than our own but clearly meant to have some permanency. The implications of this are staggering, and we both stare around wide-eyed. No one in our village has had any contact with the outside world, short of the line keeper’s notes. Entering this settlement is akin to having fallen into one of the magical lands in the old stories.
No one’s been here for a while, Li Wei says, pointing at some of the disrepair on the buildings. I see instantly what he’s referring to. The wood is worn, even rotted in some places, and the elements have long won out. We split up and walk around, and I feel a mix of both excitement and apprehension. Once again, I find myself thinking in terms of the record, how I would report on this amazing discovery. For the most part, the little houses are built similarly to ours, but I spy minute architectural differences that fascinate me. I wish I’d brought ink and paper for notes. I’ll have to rely on my own memory to share this when I get back home.
I find a house with a door hanging ajar, having rotted out of its holdings. I push it all the way open and again hear that sound doors make that I have no word for.