Against My Wishes

In the final years of the Great Yong dynasty, the realm fell into chaos, and all rites and music were cast aside. The righteous army of Longxi once swore with fiery conviction: “Once we’ve won peace for the realm, we’ll all go home, farm the land, build houses, and find wives.” But fate eventually led every one of them down a different path. The mightiest God of War of the Northern Frontier had the tendons in his hands severed and was bound in the mud, humiliated until warhorses dragged him to his death like a lump of filth; The proudest and most brilliant military strategist knelt in the pouring rain to save his comrades, kowtowing and begging through tears of blood, only to fall at last into the deadly trap he had laid himself; The young healer who feared pain more than anyone endured a thousand cuts, her body convulsing in agony, yet she never betrayed a single person before she died; The counselor who excelled at scheming plotted against the whole world, but failed to account for the wind, and watched with his own eyes as poisonous flames devoured the entire army; The old soldier who kept saying, “When the war’s over, I’m going home to buy some land,” fell on the eve of the ceasefire signing, still clutching a rattle for his son. And the deserter, burdened by guilt and longing only for death, had both legs crushed and one eye blinded. He became the only survivor of that chaotic age. Many years later, the youngest brother in the army stood before gravestones stretching across the hills. He stroked each one in turn and wept as he said: “Second Brother, I’m taller than you now. Third Sister, I’m older than all of you now…”