Now, six months later, we still have not heard from the other survivors. The ones that emigrated from the mainland have not communicated in any way with us. I supposed it was because they didn't want to mess with the government -- or the Earth Kingdom as China is now known as.
I walked into the small village square. It was the typical Chinese farm village; a stable near the front, complete with horses and hay stacks, the houses around the courtyard and the rice fields behind it all. I was one of the oldest girls so I had some pretty boring jobs, which mainly included drying the rice, washing the rice, cooking the rice -- a lot of things that have to do with rice.
Understanding my grandparents became easier with time, I suppose that's what happens when you're constantly surrounded by Chinese speaking people.
I grew bored quickly. No T.V., no radio, no phone service, and no Internet! It's almost impossible for any teenage girl to live without these. I had to find a new pastime. About three months ago I found out my uncle is a martial arts master. Hun gar kung fu to be more precise. I caught him a couple of times practicing, kicking, punching, jabbing and blocking. He mostly spent his time sparring with a large stack of hay. Being bored to death and having to walk around in leech-infested waters to collect rice, I was pretty desperate. Plus, martial arts looked cool.
"The key to Hun gar is to be rooted." He had explained. "In most martial arts your legs and feet become your weak point when they are on the ground. In Hun gar, it becomes your strongest and most stable point." He lowered into a wide and low stance. "The horse stance lowers your centre of gravity and makes you a much more stable opponent."
I took his position, arms at my side and legs far apart. "How's this?" I asked, my Cantonese slightly off.
"Good."
The lessons went on for the past few months. I've become pretty good and my uncle now has a sparring partner but I wanted to see what was outside of the village. See, we were surrounded by mountains. Lucky us, our village was in the valley of one of the only mountain ranges in Canton.
"These mountains were created by the dragons when they went to help the Emperor," my grandmother had said. "The south was always being attacked by the North Kingdom so the Emperor called upon the dragons to protect us."
I never did quite believe that story. But the mountains seemed like a gate. A gate that would never open. The only way past was to go on foot—or horse. I was hoping someone in the village knew how to ride; after all we did have a stable and five horses. So it wasn't until last month I learned to ride. It took me quite a while to find someone who knew how to ride. When I finally did, there were . . . complications.
"What do you mean 'there aren't any horses available at the moment'?" I said angrily to my mother. We were standing in the little kitchen that we had. A small fire burned in a pit at the centre of the room, a pot sitting on top of a wooden tripod.
"Your grandfather is keeping his for emergencies only. As for the other four, they belong to the other families in the village," said my mom, as she dumped some dried tea leaves into the pot.
I sighed. She was right. We weren't the only family in the village, there were four more sharing it with us. Each family had their own horse, a way of transportation when the roads were too crowded to drive on. Not that that ever happened, nor will it again.
I stood and turned to walk out. "Wait," said my mom. "Before you go, there's something you need to know." I had my hopes up once she said that, but it was quickly swiped away. "We're out of water and it's your turn to get it." She said taunting me with the empty bucket. I took it reluctantly, gave my mother a look of annoyance and left the kitchen.
The well was in the middle of the village square. It was so out of place, like a tree in a desert. I put the bucket on the crumbling grey stone and attached the rope to the handle. Just as I was going to let it drop to the cold watery depths below, a couple of men on horses came right into the square.
The horses looked worn out and the clothes the men wore were no fancier than the ones that I wore. I figured they weren't any richer than we were. They weren't what you would call big-muscled either, nor were they skinny. More skilled. They held themselves with confidence, even without weapons. I had a good feeling they were master martial artists. I heard my grandfather shuffle out of the house, along with my uncle and the other men in the village.
"Hong Mu!" rasped my grandfather. "What are you doing here?"
"Taking something that is mine." said Hong Mu.
