After Twenty Years Guarding the Frontier, the Empress Sentenced Me to Death

When the blade came down, I didn't hear the sound of bones breaking. I heard the wind. The wind atop the Great Wall. I had listened to it for twenty-three years. It blew in through the mountain pass to the north and struck the battlements, making a sound like someone weeping against the wall. It was loudest on winter nights. Even through two layers of cotton curtains, it wormed its way into my ears. There was no wind on the execution platform. In the third month, the capital was stifling. The sun beat down on the bluestone paving outside the Meridian Gate, making the backs of people's necks burn. Three rows of spectators crowded around. At the front was a vegetable seller, still clutching a handful of unsold scallions. I knelt