A few days later, Gentle Whiskers takes Fluttering Bird down the mountain. Fighter takes Baby Tofu on his back and escorts Swaying Blossoms to the village. They are going to meet Swaying Blossom's scholar friend and then bring the new apprentice to our place.
This is the first time in months that I have been completely alone. The last time was when the Princess was buried with her family.
It is strange, this silence. This emptiness. I don't have to do anything or prepare anything. Fluttering Bird and Swaying Blossoms have already prepared everything. They are so organised. I on the other hand, am pretty useless. Now that I am feeling better, I have walked to the site where the house will be built. It will be good to have another young man. Fighter can only do so much with Gentle Whiskers' help and the help of the other girls. I still like to call them my girls when in reality they are more like sisters than my maids now. They are the ones who order me around.
There are tools and wood lying around. There are rocks and rope nearby the partially dug well. The house foundations have begun to be dug. There are young saplings planted in a row. If I'm not wrong, these are young apricots. Where did these come from? It must be Fighter. Fighter is the only one who would do something like this. He must have remembered how I had mentioned sitting in the shade of an apricot tree before.
From the shallow well, I water the plants. Then I remove my socks and shoes and outer clothes to jump into the well and dig. The well is not deep enough. There was once a time when I had helped my brothers dig a well in a village. It almost feels like it was in a whole other life. Someone else's life. I dig the mud into a clay pot, and carry the pot up the steps carved into the side of the big pit. The mud is dumped to one side of the garden.
It feels good to do manual labour. When I was young and rebellious, I used to escape my mother's parlour to play and work in the field until my skin was tanned black. How I used to get scolded. Father and my brothers would let me help out until we heard my sisters or Mother call for me. Then we would all shiver and Father would send me back with a gentle pat on the shoulder. I used to run away to play in the town and pretend with my servants and maids to be merchants, buying and selling between the docks and the marketplace. There was one time where I even earned great profits selling silk and wine, and then snuck the money into my father's private moneybox. He came in and caught me, but smiled when I showed him how much money I had earned. I was punished nevertheless and did the embroidery and copying of classical texts without complaint.
I tremble with the weight of these memories, tripping and falling in the mud. My chest heaves with suppressed emotions and I find that I can't keep them hidden anymore. The tears come out and I cry. Cry for my family that I had lost. There are many things I don't remember anymore. The things I do are too much for me to hold. They tumble down all over the place, while I feel pain wrench at my heart.
Crying is good. It's the first time I have cried with meaning and purpose since I saw the blackened remains of the palace by the sea cliff. Crying will wash the old wounds clean and allow them to heal properly. Then I will hopefully not always have to be Tofu. Perhaps then I will be able to obtain a new identity that is not broken but whole.
I don't feel that I have done a lot of work after I finish crying. My eyes ache. My throat and nose aches. But my mind is a bit clearer. Just a bit clearer.
Before the others return, I make the long journey to the nearest body of flowing water. There, I wash myself and my clothes, putting on the dry clothes that I had picked up on the way past the caves. However, by the time I am ready to return back to the caves, I discover I am too tired. I have used up all my energy. Leaning against a sun-warmed rock, I fall asleep while waiting for my new family to return and find me.
After the nap, I feel a lot better, but nobody has come to fetch me. Perhaps they are still busy down at the bottom of the mountain. If they had returned and found me here, I would be in for a world of scolding. Even Baby Tofu might shake a little finger at me.
Slowly, I return to the cave. I hang up my wet clothes and collapse onto my bed. So little has been done, yet I am so tired. It's not right. I need to find a way to exercise more and do more work. Strengthen this weak body. I was strong and now I am weak. What happened to me?