Empty Crown | Published

A little one

In the heart of the lush forest, a tranquil clearing revealed a woman donning straw hat and plain clothes diligently tending to her vegetable garden. Her fondness for potatoes had prompted her to start cultivating them, and she carefully cut some potatoes into smaller pieces, delicately placing them in freshly dug holes with a tender touch, as if caring for a precious child.

Taking a moment, she whispered a small prayer, expressing her gratitude to the earth for its bounty, and then gently pushed the soil back in place, lovingly covering the seeds she had sowed.

"Grow up well, like the ones before," said the woman as she stared at the leafy stems that were growing out from the tiled soil beside. She continued throughout the morning, planting and weeding along the way as dirt smudged her face and hands as she tended to them. Some even got onto her clothes but she didn't care. It was just another day, another ordinary day.

The sun was almost at the top of her head, casting a blazing brilliance over the landscape, and she could feel the fatigue setting in. Her body yearned for a break, but there was just one more patch of the garden left to tend before she could call it complete.

Determination pushed her forward, "I need to get this done or else I wouldn't get the time. Later, I have to go help out in the village. They are having a feast and need extra hands," said the woman.

Suddenly she sensed a slight movement in the bush behind her. The woman gripped onto the hoe beside her and thought, "A wild boar? Deer?"

She closed in on the bush. Inching closely at a slow pace, while gripping tightly onto her garden hoe.

And just like that, a young little boy tumbled out from the bush.

Of course, she shrieked. But when she calmed down, she tried to check on the boy. Dressed in rags, dirty, with a foul smell emitting across his whole body, he seemed to be a beggar and not a particularly good one. There were wounds, injuries, but nothing fatal.

"The injury on his leg is a bit worse but it can be treated. He wouldn't die," thought the woman.

Suddenly, the boy stirred.

"What is your name?"

"No."

"Your name is 'No'?"

"No, I am not, 'No'," replied the boy.

Her laughter echoed through the serene forest as his stomach growled loudly, betraying his hunger. Amusement danced in her eyes as she observed the little boy. "This small creature is at most five or seven years of age," she mused to herself, finding his innocent antics endearing amidst the vastness of the wilderness.

"So, what is your name little one?" asked the woman with a smile.

"No name."

The woman stared at the boy's face. It appeared listless, the exhaustion and weariness evident in his features. Gently, she reached out to rub off the grime from his face, her fingers moving with tenderness and care.

The boy offered little resistance, his strength waning from his ordeal. As she wiped away the dirt, his features slowly emerged - round eyes, a little nose, and pale, cracked lips. The woman's heart softened at the sight, knowing that this young soul had endured more than he should.

From her woven basket beside her, she retrieved a small bamboo bottle filled with water. Holding it to his lips, she poured a little water, ensuring it trickled gently into his mouth without aggravating the cuts and sores.

He pushed the bottle away before any water reached his lips.

"What are you doing?"

"No. I want to die," said the small skinny boy.

"You can't," replied the woman.

"I want."

"No! Your life is precious."

"No," he kept repeating.

"Since I saved you. Your life is mine. I wouldn't let it go to waste, and I don't think you really want to die."

"I want," said the little boy. His body was sore. The world had treated him badly and he no longer wanted anything to do with the world, yet his stomach growled again. The kindness he knew of was only fake kindness. He doesn't believe that there was any kindness in the world.

Luring him, baiting him, lying to him, cheating his feelings, manipulating him to do the other person's bidding. Kindness, he realized, had become a mere tool, used by others and in this woman, he saw a reflection of that same manipulation.

"Your body wants to live," stated the woman. "Here—drink this." She dripped some of the water into his mouth. The cold water passed through his throat, giving him a sense of relief.

"I will bring you to a place with lots of food. Then you will think twice about dying."

"No," said the little boy.

Unfazed by his refusal, HeHuan gently lifted ShiWu onto her back, cradling him with utmost care.

Together, they began their descent down the mountain, the soft rustling of leaves and the distant sound of crickets creating a soothing melody in the twilight as they made their way through the mountains. His fatigue and the lingering weight of caution began to wane, and a sense of comfort enveloped him. The little boy, feeling the gentle sway of her movements, gradually succumbed to the lull of the journey, his eyelids growing heavy with each passing minute.

Wrapped in the comforting embrace of HeHuan's presence, he drifted into slumber as they made their way into the village.