It’s the only outward indication of his surprise. Everything else about him is perfectly respectful and proper. Forgive me, apprentices, he says. I was in such a hurry to help, I’m afraid I jostled you earlier. I hope you aren’t injured.
Although he is addressing both of us, his eyes are locked on me. His gaze is so piercing, I feel as though it will knock me over. Or maybe that’s just the earlier dizziness I felt from being near him. Regardless, standing there before him, I find myself unable to move or speak.
Zhang Jing, unaware I am reeling, smiles gently. It’s okay. We’re fine.
I’m glad, he says. He starts to turn from us and then pauses, his expression both curious and hesitant. I hope you don’t think I was wrong to help that boy.
It was very kind of you, Zhang Jing says politely.
Although she has answered for us, Li Wei’s gaze lingers on me as though he hopes I will add something. But I can’t. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him, and this sudden, unexpected confrontation has caught me unprepared. After several awkward moments, Li Wei nods.
Well, then. I hope you both have a good day, he says before walking away from us.
Zhang Jing and I continue on our path, and my heart rate slowly returns to normal. You didn’t say much back there, she remarks. Do you disapprove? Do you think he should have let Sheng and his friends take their revenge?
I don’t answer right away. Zhang Jing is a year older than me, and we have been nearly inseparable our entire lives, sharing everything. But there is one secret I have kept from her. When I was six, I climbed an old rotting shed our mother had warned us about many times. The roof collapsed while I was on it, trapping me below with no one in sight. I was stuck there for two hours, frightened and certain I would be there forever.
And then he appeared.
Li Wei was only eight but had just begun working full-time in the mines. When he came to me that day, he was returning from his shift covered in fine, golden dust. As he held out his hand to help me, the late afternoon sunlight caught him just right, making him shine and glitter. Even back then, the striking and beautiful always moved my heart, and I was spellbound as he helped me out of the rubble. His easy smile and sense of humor soon helped me overcome my shyness, beginning a friendship that would span almost ten years and eventually become so much more. . . .
Fei? asks Zhang Jing, truly puzzled now. Are you okay?
I push my memories aside, shaking off the dazzling image of that golden boy. Fine, I lie. I just don’t like to see that kind of violence.
Me neither, she agrees.
We divert to a path that is much narrower than the village’s main thoroughfare but sees enough foot traffic to be well-worn and packed down. It takes us along one of the cliff’s sides, giving us spectacular views of the peaks surrounding us. It’s early enough in the morning that mist still hangs in the air, obscuring the depths below.
Zhang Jing and I come to a halt when we reach the cypress tree. It looks greener and fuller than the last time I saw it, now that summer has fully arrived. I feel a pang in my heart for not having been here more recently. The venerable cypress clings doggedly to its rocky perch, its branches spreading wide and high into the sky. See how it stands proudly, even in such inhospitable conditions? our father used to say. This is how we must always be—strong and resilient, no matter what’s around us. Our family used to go on evening walks together, and this path past the tree was one of our favorites. When our parents died, Zhang Jing and I had their ashes spread here.
She and I stand together now, saying nothing, simply gazing out at the vista before us and enjoying a faint breeze that plays among the needled branches of the tree. In my periphery, I notice her squinting, even here. As much as it hurts, I feel compelled to finally say something. Stepping forward, I turn so that she can better see my hands.