The earth shook again in lesser rumblings, a signal it was settling down from the ferocious movement of two days ago. The walls vibrated once again and the Traveler looked up and smiled. Emboldened, Yin Su stepped closer.

The writing brush and ink stone lay untouched. The bamboo held no characters. “You do not write.” It was both a statement and a question.

The Traveler held up his hands, fingers misshapen and stuck in odd directions. “Writing has become difficult. I wait for the sun to warm and limber my fingers.”

Yin Su held up her bandaged hand. “I understand.” She had stopped the bleeding, but the smallest finger still hurt and so she had wrapped a bandage around it securing the smallest finger to the adjacent one as if they were fused. It relieved the pressure and allowed her to use the hand.

The Traveler laughed. “I see that you do understand.”

“Perhaps I can help.” Yin Su bowed and scurried to her kitchen. She retrieved a jar of previously prepared ru xiang salve and returned. “This often helps my husband when he has pain. I have also used it on my damaged hand so I may continue working.”

“You are most kind, Yin Su. Let us see if it will aid an old man.” He dipped his fingers in the jar and applied a small amount to his hands. “You know how to heal with plants?”

“I know a few. I learned some at the Great House in the capital where I grew up. And, of course, there is much to learn in the countryside.”

“You grew up in a Great House?”

“Yes. I do miss it. And my Mother. And the Teacher.” Yin Su smiled as she remembered the discussions with Teacher, Elder Brother, Younger Brother.

The Traveler turned his full attention to Yin Su. His brow furrowed and he half-smiled. “You had lessons?”

“The Great Lord was kind. He allowed me to attend with Elder Brother and Younger Brother.” Yin Su raised her head and looked the Traveler in the eyes. She felt herself being drawn into dark pools of warmth, of caring, of knowledge, of contentment. She floated. She was lighter than air.  

“That explains it.” The Traveler brought her back to reality.

“Explains what?” Yin Su blinked.

“My inability to write. You will write for me.” The Traveler kept Yin Su’s gaze.

“What?”

“You can write, I assume.”

“Um… well, yes. It has been a while.”

“Once learned, it does not leave. I will speak. You will write. It is settled.” The Traveler’s body relaxed as he let out a great sigh and smiled at Yin Su.

Yin Su’s pulse quickened. She rubbed her hands together and felt the calluses formed from working the garden, tending to the animals. She had not held a writing brush since leaving the Great House. Would she remember the characters?

The Traveler looked around and, finding no other chair, got up and retrieved a sitting mat from the eating room. “Sit.” He nodded at the chair and writing desk then at Yin Su.

“Oh no, I could not. It is not proper.”

“You will need correct posture to write well. Sit at the writing desk.”

“Let me bring you tea first.” Yin Su scurried to the kitchen area and started a fire to boil water for tea. She took the most flavorful tea leaves and prepared a bowl of steaming water. In her excitement, Yin Su stumbled when bringing the bowl to the Traveler and spilled a portion on the ground. The child inside her kicked as if to remind her to go more slowly.

Yin Su lowered her head as she approached the Traveler. “I am so clumsy. I bring you only a half filled bowl of tea. I will return to the kitchen and prepare a better one.”

“Do not despair. Half a bowl of tea tastes as well as a full bowl.” He took the bowl from her hand. “Be more like the water in the tea.”

“What? Like water? What do you mean?”

“Water. It flows. It bends. It has no shape of its own. It conforms to whatever space it is given for the moment. It flows to the lowest point. Yet water wears away rocks and creates canyons. It is patient. It wins in the end.”

Yin Su smiled. “And will that help me have a man-child to please my husband?”

“That I can not say. But it will allow you to better understand. To follow the force of nature.” He nodded in the direction of the writing desk.

Yin Su sat in the chair and prepared the writing brush. “What do I write?”

At that moment her Husband came in the door. Silence prevailed as he comprehended the scene. The Traveler on a mat on the floor: his Wife sitting at the writing desk, brush in hand.

“Wife, what are you doing?”

Yin Su gripped the writing brush tighter and said nothing.

Your wife is assisting me.” The Traveler sipped his tea.

“Assist you? How?”

“By writing.” The Traveler once again held his hands aloft.

“Oh. I did not know. Humph. Well, she can write. She does come from the Great House in the capital. That is too evident. She thinks she is above the local village women. Yet she has not yet born a son to me. Her worth is questionable.”

The Traveler cocked his head to the side and stared at the Gatekeeper as if to get a better understanding by looking at a different angle. “Yet,” he said. “The worth of your wife is quite different in my eyes. Let us discuss that at day’s end when our bellies are full and our minds are clear.”

The Gatekeeper shuffled his feel, putting his weight back and forth. “Well, a later discussion. Yes. But now, I bring news of the gate repair. Several strong boards were damaged and will need to be replaced. It will take several days to find suitable timbers and make repairs.”

“That is fortuitous. It will give us time.” The Traveler nodded.

“Time?”

“Yes, for discussion and for writing.”

“Oh. Yes. Well. Um… I return to the gate now.”

Yin Su smiled and wrote Be like water.

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