Chapter 6: The Arsenal in the Rain

Shuyi folded the crumpled sheet small and hid it in her sleeve.

She told herself the reasons on the way back to bed.

A widow might practice her husband's hand to feel close to him.

A widow might have to answer his unfinished letters.

None of the reasons explained the dot, the tail, and the hurry in the lines, and she lay awake until the window went grey.

At breakfast Lanxin would not look at her.

She ate two rice cakes standing at the window, then turned and said, "You have not left the study in six days."

"The letters..."

"The letters will keep an hour."

"Come."

She led Shuyi through the back gate into the training yard.

It was a wide dirt square under a low sky, with straw targets and a row of spear racks.

About two hundred soldiers in padded jackets were going through their drills.

They all saw Lanxin at the same moment.

The drill sergeants did not shout, but the men straightened, and a low murmur ran down the ranks.

General.

General Ye.

A big sergeant with a leather patch over one eye jogged over and bowed.

"General, the new recruits asked if they might hear a letter again at the festival."

"Ask Lieutenant Tan," Lanxin said.

"Yes, General."

The sergeant's single eye turned to Shuyi, and he grinned.

"You're the little brush from Willow Lane!"

"I am," Shuyi said.

"Hold on."

He opened his jacket and pulled a thick folded square out of an inner pocket.

It was a scrap of grey army paper, worn at the edges, with a line of faded characters across it.

Keep them fighting.

"Copied it myself, after the wall," he said.

"I can't read much."

"I traced it, one stroke at a time, like you do for a child's name."

"At Frostgate I had a frozen foot and a bad arrow wound and I wanted to lie down in the snow."

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