‘Get up, sleeping pig!’
Shaozhen awoke with a start. His bleary eyes finally registered that something was flying through the air, aimed at his head.
‘Hey, watch it!’ he cried as the wicker basket bounced off his half-sitting form and clattered to the floor. ‘You’ll take someone’s eye out.’
‘Get up, layabout,’ Yangyang huffed. ‘The birds have already been awake for an hour.’
‘I’m not a bird,’ Shaozhen grumbled under his breath as he slung his feet over the side of the bed. He didn’t bother lighting the gas lamp in his room, and found his sandals in the dark, slipping them on while fumbling for a shirt. ‘What’s that for?’ He eyed the basket.
‘I weaved that with my own hands. No poles and buckets where we’re headed. Now come on, hurry up. Get dressed. We need to get going.’
‘Is Nainai even awake yet? It’s too early for field work.’
Yangyang groaned with exasperation. ‘Don’t you get it, bendan, fool? There’s no point doing any more farm work, because there’s no water.’
Shaozhen blinked in the darkness, letting her words sink in. ‘No water?’ he whispered finally.
‘Not a drop.’
The sky was just beginning to lighten when they emerged from the house. Yangyang had made wicker baskets for them both, the insides lined with plastic so they would stay watertight. They had slung them over their shoulders and secured them to their backs with thick twine straps, like they were backpacks. Yangyang hooked her thumbs beneath the straps, her back arched, head tilted high with steely determination. Meanwhile, Shaozhen dragged himself along behind her.
The birds tweeted, their songs somehow harmonising with the crunch of sand and gravel beneath Shaozhen’s feet.
‘Shaozhen. Yangyang.’ The voice came from behind. They turned towards the sound of footsteps hurrying to catch up with them.
‘Kang, what are you doing?’ Yangyang hissed. ‘You can’t come with us.’
‘Why? Where are you going?’ Kang’s eyes lit up.
‘Who died and made you the empress?’ Shaozhen scowled and turned to his best friend. ‘We’re going to get water. You can come if you want.’
‘He’s just going to slow us down. Besides, I don’t have another basket.’
Shaozhen frowned, unsure of what else to say.
‘I – I can bring a bucket,’ Kang suggested.
‘See, he can bring a bucket!’ Shaozhen beamed at his friend’s cleverness. ‘Hurry up. Go get it and you can come with us.’
They watched him scamper off. He returned minutes later, a large plastic bucket in tow. It was almost as tall as his torso.
Yangyang rolled her eyes. ‘A lot of use that’s going to be.’
‘Oh come on, lighten up,’ Shaozhen said. ‘I say he comes or none of us go.’
‘Whatever.’ Yangyang rolled her eyes again. ‘Come on, four eyes, you’d better not fall behind.’
Kang looked as though he was about to say something but then thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut. Shaozhen gave his friend a wink to try to lighten the mood. He was quite relieved to have Kang’s company; he wasn’t sure he could deal with Yangyang’s venomous nature all by himself.
The road to the mountains took them away from the township and deeper into the Henan countryside. They went past many fields, all with shrivelled and shrunken crops. About a li along, the path divided and they followed the narrower left fork into the woods, which led them to a set of rickety wooden stairs. The sun had risen now, the intense rays beating down on them as they climbed. The mountain loomed above, brown, grey and lifeless, like the great Buddha had stuck a straw in and sucked it dry.
Shaozhen used to enjoy hiking with his father when he was little. He delighted in the scent of the air and its crisp coolness against the skin, like a cloud’s breath. He loved peering up through the treetops, watching the bolts of sunlight dancing between the leaves like shimmering gold. His father had taught him to listen for signs of wildlife hidden among the canopy.
The elder Lu used to keep a pair of small birds, grey warblers, in a handsome handmade bamboo cage. Each morning, he took the birds in their cage up to the mountains. ‘This way they can see from up high, like they were flying,’ his father explained.
‘But if you let them out, they could really fly,’ the young Shaozhen had reasoned. His father had laughed and stroked him on the head. But he’d kept the birds caged and continued to take them up the mountain.
On the day after his father had left for Guangzhou, Shaozhen had taken the birds up the mountain one last time. He had opened the door and let them free.
Shaozhen shook his head to release the stinging from his eyes. He was missing Ma and Ba. The heat and the drought, the harshness of the mountain climb and the dryness of his surrounds were taking their toll on him.
‘Get a move on,’ Yangyang snapped, interrupting his thoughts. She had led them deeper into the woods, but he didn’t feel the usual coolness of the mountain air enveloping him. Instead, the air was dry and the tops of the trees were too thin to provide much shade. The forest floor was littered with dry leaves and ready-made kindling.
The trio reached the top of the stairs and had to continue the climb up the mountain unaided. Yangyang was surefooted, hopping across the rocks without hesitation, her thumbs still hooked into the straps of the basket at her back. Shaozhen followed behind, using his hands to steady himself as he tried to match her steps. Kang brought up the rear, struggling to keep up. It soon became clear why Yangyang had deemed the bucket a hindrance, as it flailed around him like an unwieldy fifth limb.
Kang and Shaozhen were panting from the effort of the climb. They came to a small clearing and took a brief rest, despite Yangyang’s protests. Shaozhen wiped the sweat from his brow and arched his aching back.
‘Hey, what’s that?’ he asked, pointing up the embankment. A small rocky path led upwards to a rundown shack built into the side of the mountain. ‘I didn’t know there were cave people here.’
‘It’s not a cave, it’s a house,’ Yangyang replied.
Curious, Shaozhen followed the path for a few metres. It was slightly overgrown, but the trampled weeds told Shaozhen it was still in use. ‘I didn’t know anyone lived up this way.’ But the dwelling seemed abandoned, no tell-tale smoke or signs of residence that he could see from his position. He went a little further along the path. Nainai had told him that the mountains used to be full of houses but the inhabitants had all moved down to the valleys and villages a long time ago. Yet there were still stories of Shaolin monks and hidden temples tucked into the corners, a secret from society.
‘Shaozhen! Come on, you’re wasting time!’ Yangyang shouted. ‘We need to get water, not muck around looking at old houses.’
Shaozhen cast one more look at the ragtag dwelling before hurrying back down the path to re-join the pair.
They continued climbing. Sweat clung to Shaozhen’s back and the basket felt like a ton of bricks. His mouth was parched and he longed for a sip of water. He could hear the thunk thunk thunk of Kang’s bucket slamming against the cliff face as they climbed.
Eventually the path levelled out and they could walk in a steady line. But moving forwards was no easier. The cliff face was narrow and they had to cling to the wall as they inched along. At one point, Shaozhen peered over the side and immediately regretted it. It was at least an 800-metre drop into the pointy branches of the barren trees. He sucked in a deep breath and tried not to think about going over. Instead, he focused on the path ahead.
‘We had better not be carrying him back,’ Yangyang grumbled, peering over Shaozhen’s shoulder to Kang. Shaozhen pivoted his head just enough to see what she was whining about.
Kang was plastered against the cliff wall, his left hand shaking as it clutched the handle of the bucket. His glasses were practically falling off his nose and Shaozhen could see he was biting his lip to keep himself from crying.
‘Kang, it’s okay,’ he called. He made his way back to his terrified friend. ‘Take my hand, come on.’
Kang’s fingers felt clammy as they closed around his.
‘Deep breaths. It’s going to be fine.’ Shaozhen hoped his voice sounded reassuring. He reached out and took Kang’s bucket.
Shaozhen turned back to the cliff edge and focused on placing one foot in front of the other. Kang gripped his hand so tightly he started to lose feeling in it, but Shaozhen didn’t let go. Eventually, they turned a corner and the path widened. They were back among the trees again. The cover was thicker on this side of the mountain, the leaves greener, and the air deliciously cool. It felt much more like the mountains that he remembered from the days of hiking with his father.
‘Almost there.’ Yangyang’s face was grim, but Shaozhen could see a bubble of excitement in her eyes.
‘About time,’ Shaozhen replied.
They walked down a gentle slope and came to another cliff face. Shaozhen heard Kang stifling a whimper.
But instead of going down the narrow ledge, Yangyang veered left so suddenly that Shaozhen nearly didn’t see her turn. The boys followed and saw what they would have missed: Yangyang had led them to the mouth of a small cave.
‘Come on.’ Yangyang dropped onto all fours and crawled in through the tight entrance. Shaozhen and Kang did the same.
The opening was small but once they were past it, the cavern opened out and they could stand up. It took a while for Shaozhen’s eyes to adjust to the darkness, with the only light coming from the mouth of the cave. He listened to Yangyang moving about and then he registered something else: a gentle babbling.
It was the sound of trickling water. He felt his heart leap upwards and into his mouth.
‘A spring,’ Kang said, full of awe. ‘How did you find it, Yangyang?’
‘What do you think we did in Sichuan?’ she scoffed. ‘Henan isn’t the only province to have a drought, you know. I was the best at finding water back home. We all would have died if it weren’t for my cunning.’
Usually, Shaozhen would have found himself annoyed by Yangyang’s boasting, but right now he was exceptionally impressed.
Yangyang knelt beside a pool of water. ‘The mountains are the best source of clean, fresh water. You just have to know where to look.’ She took a long, loud slurp.
Shaozhen dipped a hand into the water. It was warm, and the pool was shallower than he had first thought, but even in the dim light, he could tell the water was crystal clear. He cupped his palm, brought his hand to his lips and took a sip.
Maybe it was the long walk they’d taken or maybe it was the rancid water he’d become used to drinking from the village stream, but Shaozhen was sure he had never tasted anything so amazing.
‘Come on, we’ve wasted enough time.’ Yangyang was opening her basket. ‘If we hurry back, we can make one more trip before it’s too dark.’
They filled their baskets up and Yangyang took Kang’s bucket from Shaozhen and filled it halfway. Kang looked relieved when she didn’t give it back to him but took claim of it as she wriggled back outside.
Despite the water they were carrying, they travelled faster on the way back, though the journey felt more treacherous. The water sloshing in their baskets constantly threw them off balance. Shaozhen felt short of breath as they picked their way down the steep rocks. His heart did flip-flops in his chest, but he was careful to stay as upright as he could, so as not to tip his precious cargo onto the dirt. Kang followed behind, muttering quiet prayers to the ancestors.
It was past lunch by the time they reached home and Shaozhen’s stomach was grumbling. Yangyang went straight inside to store the water, muttering something about preparing cold noodles.
‘Here’s your water, Kang,’ Shaozhen said as he handed his friend the bucket that Yangyang had left on the ground. Miraculously, most of the water was still in it. ‘We’ll make you a basket for next time. Then you can carry it more easily.’
Kang shook his head. ‘I’m no good with labour work. Gung is right. I’m useless in the village.’
‘But you’re so smart and clever!’ Shaozhen punched his friend in the arm to cheer him up.
Kang winced. ‘I’d better go.’ And with that, Kang headed home, holding the handle with both hands, the bucket banging against his knees and water sloshing up the sides.