It was only three weeks later when Ping found he was being used as an example of how to do things right in numerous activities. Shang seemed to be impressed with his prowess in archery, close combat and even in basic survival skills.
The difference it made was obvious, Ping blossomed under the attention. Lei and Jian commented that he was doing well, and even Chi-Fu could only find one fault; his strength. Ping was quick, agile and a fast thinker, but he was still weaker than many of the men, and he didn't have the body weight to make up the difference in areas such as pulling gear across camp, or helping to move the carts without the horses attached.
The smile that graced his face when he wasn't working helped warm others to him, and for the first time in the months he had been there, people were finally including Ping as one of them. There suspicious voice in the back of his mind that sounded oddly like his father and it warned him that the others were only including him because he was so popular with the Captain now. However, Ping had a lot of practice at ignoring what his father said, and even though ignoring this voice took more effort, he still managed.
As he sat one evening beside Chien-Po, he stared at the arrow that was still lodged into the shaft. It had been there for some time now and Ping thought about it. He needed discipline and strength to reach the arrow. Ping supposed he could reach it without the added weights, the wood was notched and uneven, finding grips to pull himself up wouldn't be too hard, but he would need some sort of sling across his back to bring the weights up too.
The answer came to him as he drifted between asleep and awake, half-dreaming of running through a forest in little but a sling. He could use a sling to help pull himself up a tree. Perhaps, in the same way he could knot the weights around the shaft and pull himself up to the top.
Would it work though? In theory, yes. But Ping knew he wasn't as strong as other men. He didn't want to fall and have Shang shout at him again.
But the thought of Shang clouded his mind. The man was always worried about him, even though he had proven himself to be capable of as much as the other men. Maybe this would help Shang accept that Ping was an able soldier now, untried in war though he was.
Slipping out of bed, Ping picked up his boots and clothing. He dressed outside the tent, hoping to leave Mushu sleeping. His guardian worried nearly as much as Shang did, ever determined to spot any problems before they arose. Ping wanted to do this alone. He wanted to prove to Shang, Mushu, Yao, and everyone else that he was good; no, better than good, or average, or acceptable. He wanted to be one of the best.
He thought of stories reaching his family, telling of his abilities. He thought of his father opening a letter and reading that Ping had been amazing, and how his father would know that Ping was no longer a sickly child, but a man; for, whatever he had been before arriving, this training camp had made him into a man, and he wanted people to know.
The weights were stored in a box inside a tent, but thankfully no one was there. He pulled them out and frowned at how heavy they were. He had forgotten. Regardless, the young man decided to move before he talked himself out of this. Wrapping the fabric into a knot, Ping took a deep breath and got into position.
It was a long way up.
He grasped the fabric tightly and lifted the weights to rest against the wood.
"One step at a time." He murmured, before setting off.
It was slow, and it was difficult. The golden circles seemed to weigh more as he got higher up, and his muscles burned with the effort.
"I'll make… them… proud." He gasped, trying not to notice the pains in his lungs, or his back, or his arms… He kept his shoulders taut and gripped the wood between his knees.
"Go on, Ping!" Came a cry from beneath him. It startled the young man, and he slipped slightly, but he was determined. Bringing his leg up again, he continued to shuffle upwards.
"Shit, yeah!" shouted someone else, and Ping recognised Jian's voice. He grinned slightly, little more than a twitch of his lips in reality but the encouragement helped lessen the struggle.
The arrow was in sight now, and Ping knew he could do it. Just this last little bit. He had to be high up, but there would be no looking down yet. The best way to get the arrow would be to sit on top of the pole and pull it out from there; to wait until he wasn't balancing on the side of a vertical drop.
It meant he had to go past the arrow; he had to pull his body back out of the way until he could get his arms on top of the pole and pull himself up the rest of the way.
For a moment, he lay flopped over the top, his belly on the weights that sat on the wood, still attached to his wrists. Everything hurt. He whimpered for a moment, then listened past the roaring in his ears. People were cheering.
Ping shifted so that he could sit at the top and pull the arrow out. It took his breath away. They were cheering for him. He tossed the arrow to the ground, grinning as it landed less than a metre away from Chi-Fu, who had been scowling up at him.
Yao and Ling were yelling for him, punching the air with a grin on their faces. Beside them stood Chien-Po, and Ping nodded his head to his friend.
Shang was there took, clapping his hands with a wide smile on his face. As the sun erupted from the clouds behind him, Ping felt a pleasure beyond what he had imagined. This felt good.
Also, a little unnerving, he mused as the wind started to pick up. It would have been nice while he had climbed up to have a cooling breeze, but with sweat sticking to his skin, Ping just felt cold.
Turning, he rather gracelessly began his way back down again, only to be met with embraces as his feet touched the ground.
"Well done." Shang whispered into his ear as he pulled Ping to his chest. "You were brilliant."
Joy heated Ping's face and he flushed deeply as Chien-Po pulled him away from Shang and into another embrace.
"When you prepare a meal, time must be taken. If you heat meat too quickly or too close to the fire, the outside can burn while the inside remains unchanged." The large man beamed down at him. "You may have been raw to start with, but I believe you are cooked all the way through now."
"Thank you." Ping whispered, a gentle warmth filling him as he understood what the man was trying to convey, that he had come along way and done well for travelling the longer path.
Eventually, Ping managed to settle in the calm waters of the lake they had been using to wash in. The water was still cool, but even as the evening sun set, the temperature was a relief in comparison.
"Hi. Umm, hello. How are you?" Shang stood by the bank, still fully dressed. He looked strangely awkward as he shifted from one foot to the other, rubbing his neck.
"Hey. I'm… sore." Ping admitted. He could still feel his muscles, and knew the ache would only increase as time went on.
"You did really good!" Shang blurted out, and Ping frowned.
"Are you alright?" he asked, trying to match this man up with the confident commander he saw every day. "You look… nervous."
"Yeah. I just… wanted to talk. But you're undressed and this is…" he trailed off and Ping stared at him curiously.
"Then go get a towel and join me." Bemused, Ping watched as his commanding officer and friend hurried off to do that.
He sighed and looked over at Mushu, who was glaring at him from across the water.
"Yes?"
"You be careful with him. No letting him get too close when you've got nothing but your pretty face on." The dragon warned him with a sniff.
"Mushu!" Blood heated his face, but it rushed lower as well as he imagined getting close to Shang without clothing. "How am I supposed to think of anything else now?"
But the dragon didn't have time to reply as Shang returned, a towel wrapped around his waist and not a stitch on otherwise. He didn't even seem to mind his feet getting muddy. Ping averted his eyes quickly, wanting to watch the man enter the water but not knowing if he could handle it.
"I'm so pleased." Shang said softly, as he made his way over to the smaller man. "You were amazing to watch as you made your way up."
"Really?" Ping asked, breathless. He shifted in the water, but didn't back away as Shang got close.
"Yes. I'll admit you're still a bit clumsy, and watching you get off that pole and head back down was even more nerve-wreaking than coming out to find you already half way up there!"
Ping wrapped his arms around his belly as he waited, unsure where Shang was going with this.
"But, it's more than that. You're more than just your new-found abilities and your gracelessness. You're a… well, a sweet man." Shang grinned awkwardly at him, pausing in his stuttering speech.
"Oh." Ping interrupted, then stopped. He didn't know what to say to that.
"I… well, you are determined. And thoughtful. Don't think I haven't noticed you over the time we've gotten to know each other; you always try cheer me up when I'm down… When Chi-Fu is complaining about yet another thing."
Ping's heart fluttered in a way he hadn't expected, his breath caught in his throat, halting any words he might have spoken. He stood and stared as Shang leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
He stood staring as the man turned and hurried away.
He stood staring far longer than he ought to, mouth agape in the expanding darkness, his heart pounding in his chest as his mind replayed those few moments, the gentle press of soft lips surrounded by scratchy skin.
Eventually, he responded to Mushu increasingly frustrated cries and left the water, a smile on his face.