Awakening

In the winter of Chongzhen’s second year, the Ji-Si Incident. Hong Taiji went around through Mongolia, breached the Great Wall, and brought his army to the gates of the capital. Yuan Chonghuan was imprisoned, Zu Dashou fled in disarray, and all four eastern suburbs of the capital fell. Beyond Shanhai Pass, heavy snow blocked the roads.

Shen Yanqiu crawled out of a snowdrift with his mind blank. He couldn’t remember where he came from. He only remembered three words: Nameless Mountain, Nameless Lake, Nameless Village.

Que’er, a twelve-year-old hunter’s daughter with uncanny marksmanship. Her braid clung to her scalp, and after firing her musket, her hands would tremble. All she wanted to know was, “Who taught you to shoot?” Hitching Post, an old soldier from Guangning, lame and always muttering “damned Tartars.” When he got anxious, he rubbed his nose until a faint red mark appeared. The cook had spent seven years making meals for the Tartars. He was afraid to die, yet had never run away, and brought people joy. He Chunsheng had spent seven years tending the Tartars’ horses. Barefoot in the snow, his toes curled as he bragged. When he threw a “Ten-Thousand-Man Slayer,” he miscounted and nearly blew himself up. Wang Fu, a farming soldier, had shaking hands and kept half a wooden club tucked against his chest. Sheepskin had spent seven years carrying things for the Tartars. His right hand was always reaching for the empty ring at his waist, until the blade sank into a Tartar’s lower back. Only then did his hand stop reaching.

A band of defeated soldiers with no food, no pay, and no way out. They had muskets, ammunition, and Shen Yanqiu. With skills beyond his era, a seemingly endless run of lucky breaks, and the inscrutable origins of Nameless Village, he would travel from beyond the pass through the provinces and on to the imperial palace.

At first, he was simply trying to stay alive. His mind was blank, but his hands were steady. He didn’t know why he did any of it; he just did it. Then, standing atop the city wall and looking at the people who had followed him up, he suddenly came to understand. Awakening wasn’t about figuring things out. It was the moment a lamp lit inside him, illuminating himself, the people by his side, and the things he had to do. From that day on, he no longer lived for himself.