Fried Dumplings

There was a thud as Yuanzheng set his axe down, the blade sinking into a stump. He drew a deep breath and glanced around, straining his eyes to make out the figure of a girl in green among the trees. Qingqing had hidden herself on the mountains, and even though he had waited patiently, she had not appeared in the village once. Physician Xu and Madame Xu had already returned, and the villagers had stopped gossiping about their quarrel; all seemed to be restored back to normal, except that Qingqing had vanished.

He gave up and sat down on a smooth rock, reaching into his tunic. This morning, his mother had fried some dumplings stuffed with bamboo sprouts, turnip, black fungus, and strips of chicken meat. They were still warm and fragrant inside the cloth he had wrapped them carefully in. He could not bring any vinegar to dip them in, but he knew Qingqing would enjoy them.

Yuanzheng laid them on the stump and watched the sun glistening on their golden sides. He wondered hopelessly what he was going to do if Qingqing did not appear. The past three days he had kept an anxious look out for her every time he went to cut wood, even though Granny Hong had tried to stop him from going to the mountains. Yuanzheng had set off each day doggedly, hoping that today would be the day Qingqing decided to show herself.

"Qingqing," he said hesitantly at first, then more boldly. After all, there was no on in the mountains. If she was really here, she would hear what he had to say to her. If she wasn't, why, no one else would be eavesdropping on him.

"I brought dumplings for you. They're still hot. You'll like them; they're crispy. Xiaohu ate five of them before Mother could stop him." He chuckled. "And he burnt his tongue too, the greedy little wretch, trying to steal one before it was cool enough."

He folded the cloth back neatly. "It's different without you. I miss seeing you tease Xiaohu. I never realized how much you made me laugh. He misses you too, even if he never says it. He kept saying he was glad you're not around so he can eat your share. But he's waiting for you so we can go fishing together."

"The spot that you like to sit in, the place where the sunlight comes in, seems so empty when the sun lights it up in the afternoons."

A pause. He dug absently in the dirt with the toe of his boot. "The strategy for defending the village is coming along really well. Brother Liang and I have organized the men into several groups, each in charge of guarding a different place. We've started digging an underground hideout where the elderly and children can hide. And I'm in charge of taking stock of whatever weapons we have."

"You helped me plan this, Qingqing. I couldn't have done it without your suggestions. You should come back to the village, if only to see how the progress is, and give your opinion. You'll have a lot of opinions to give, I know." He chuckled to himself. "Brother Liang will probably get annoyed. But you'll have good ideas, nonetheless. I always wondered how two maidens like you and Sister-in-law could be so good at fighting. I thought that maybe your father was some mysterious hero who trained you, or a retired general. But I know why now. I'm surprised I didn't guess earlier, actually."

He sat there twisting his hands in his lap idly. It was beautiful weather, with the new grass growing under his feet, and the buzz of crickets in the air.

Yuanzheng shooed away a bird that lighted on the stump and tried to peck at the dumplings. He had sat still for so long that it had not noticed him at first.

"I didn't finish telling you everything I wanted to say," he said slowly. "I've never been much of a talker. Mother says I take after my father most of the time, and then one out of five times when I get passionate about something I will take after her."

He smiled. "I hope you're well, Qingqing. I miss seeing you pull faces at me whenever I say something that annoys you." Chuckling to himself, he looked up at the clouds and closed his eyes dreamily.

"You have this way of darting quick glances over your shoulder, or from the corner of your eyes. Some people don't like it, it makes them feel uneasy because you always look so sharp, as if you're probing past their defenses and seeing right to their hearts. But to me, it reminds me of that day when I first met you. You were so straightforward and fearless to Miss Mao. There was no fear in your eyes when you looked at her, and you meant every word you said. I kept thinking about you after that. I kept wondering how a mere girl like you could be so reckless. Perhaps that's how it all started..."

With a sigh, he glanced at the dumplings. They were starting to go cold. Yuanzheng picked up a fold of the cloth and covered them. He stood up and stretched, then took his axe onto his shoulder and glanced around one last time, wistfully.

"Well, if they get eaten by animals don't blame me. I waited as long as I could. I'd better go before the sun sets."

As his footsteps gradually faded away there was a soft rustling sound and Qingqing slipped out from behind the trees. She gazed a long time where he was last seen walking off, and finally turned to the little bundle on the tree stump.

Springing over, she unfolded the cloth and smiled as she saw the dumplings huddling underneath. Qingqing picked one up and examined it thoughtfully. "Ah, they're still crispy!" she said, but she did not bite into it immediately.

Sitting down on the same spot that he had, she turned it in her hand, looking unexpectedly sober. "You big fool," she said softly to herself, but there was no vim in her voice. "Blabbering out here on the mountains like an idiot. If anyone else overheard you they'd think you were crazy. As you are. How were you so sure I would find them? If I hadn't happened to be here, what a waste that would have been."

She shook her head. "Who would have thought you could talk so much? You had such a sharp tongue, when did it become so sweet?"

Qingqing sighed and busied herself with the dumplings.