After cleaning the house and eating breakfast, Ban Xia dressed, shouldered her backpack, armed herself with bow and arrows, and inserted her dagger and handgun—fully equipped.
Looking in the mirror: a light blue sleeveless dress, refreshing ponytail, handgun on her right hip, dagger on her left, longbow in hand, backpack and quiver on her back—quite the dashing armed young girl.
Awesome!
Ban Xia gave a thumbs up, winking.
“Mom, Dad, I’m heading out, I’ll be back tonight.”
Closing the door, the girl went downstairs.
Outside, the sun was scorching, and Ban Xia opened a red umbrella.
Her stored dry food was running low; she needed to gather materials to make more.
From Meihua Mountain Villa to Moon Bay Park was very close, so close she didn’t need to ride a bicycle—just around the corner after leaving home. Ban Xia retrieved a small luggage cart from behind the first-floor stairwell, with two small wheels that could stand upright or be pulled at an angle like rolling luggage. The girl hung her backpack on the small cart, its wheels rattling along the rough cement surface.
October in Nanjing was at its hottest, with heat waves rolling up from the ground where the eight or nine o’clock morning sun struck. The air carried the scent of wormwood—Ban Xia knew there was a large patch nearby, growing taller than she was.
She walked the empty streets, holding her red umbrella and pulling her small cart.
Turning from Musu Garden Street onto Moon Bay Bridge, the bridge crossed the narrow lake surface, facing a huge city gate. The girl walked along the railing, the strong wind tousling her hair and dress hem. Standing on the bridge, she could see the gray-black ancient city wall ahead, shrouded in emerald tree crowns. Below the city wall were three arched doors—this gate was called Houbiao Camp Gate. The teacher had said Moon Bay was part of ancient Nanjing’s moat, which was why the city wall and lake were together.
The girl paused on the bridge, turning to gaze at the lake’s surface.
Over these years, Moon Bay’s water area had shrunk considerably. Originally, its water formed a slender crescent shape connected to the moat, clinging to the outside of the ancient city wall. But over decades, the lake water had gradually dried up—the crescent no longer resembled a crescent. During the summer’s rainy season, the lake water was more abundant, but in winter, the water would shrink toward the center, exposing the muddy shores.
“West Lake’s water, my tears…”
Ban Xia hummed, turning right at the Houbiao Camp Gate and strolling into Moon Bay Park.
By the entrance, the park’s overview map stood in dense weeds, with only the golden characters for the “view map” remaining. The person-high sign had been cut in half, the remaining portion bearing several melted, blackened bullet holes large enough to fit a fist through—probably from armor-piercing rounds.
The entrance opened to a small plaza, densely paved with small white square tiles, and a tall, slender statue that had fallen and broken into two pieces—a brown marble column topped with a large brass bird.
The teacher had said it wasn’t a large bird.
It was a rooster.
(Actually, it was a Vermilion Bird)
Ban Xia’s dry food materials mainly came from Moon Bay. Fish could be caught in the sea, meat could be hunted from deer, but starchy foods could only be gathered from Moon Bay.
The girl walked under the city wall with her red umbrella, passing through dense tree shade, and peering through willow branches at the lake surface covered with green duckweed along the shores.
Her starch sources were the lake’s lotus seeds, lotus roots, and water chestnuts. Summer was when the lake’s lotus flowers bloomed most abundantly. Originally, Moon Bay had an ornamental lotus pond, but after it became unmanaged, the lotus flowers grew more and more numerous, more and more lush. When Ban Xia came to the lakeside in July and August, the lotus flowers competed in beauty, spreading everywhere, their basin-sized leaves overlapping until the water’s surface couldn’t be seen.
Walking a bit further along the city wall was the Night Shanghai Hotel’s banquet hall, a white-walled, red-tiled building standing by the lake, surrounded by green lotus leaves.
These were restaurants built over the lake, but their original appearance was no longer visible—only the foundation pillars driven into the lake water and the platforms above remained. The platforms were ruins, barely showing red roofs and white walls.
Ban Xia entered the water here.
She removed her shoes and socks, changed into sandals, left her equipment on shore, climbed over the iron chain railing, and with a forceful “hup!” jumped onto a large concrete block two meters from the shore. The cement block was half-submerged, half-exposed—a tiny isolated island.
This was her exclusive entry point.
Every time she went into the lake, Ban Xia crossed from there. This area was relatively shallow, the water reaching at most to her knees, and various sizes of construction debris lay sunken along the shore, providing places to climb up and rest at any time.
Ban Xia tentatively put her foot in the water, slowly sinking into the lake bottom’s silt. The lake water was very clear, only becoming murky when stirred up by the girl’s feet.
The silt could completely cover her ankles. Ban Xia stomped down hard, making sure it was stable before putting her second foot in the water. Both long legs were covered by cool lotus leaves.
Ban Xia wore a large bag across her chest for collected lotus roots or water chestnuts, and lotus pods if she found any. She tilted her head to hold the red umbrella handle with her neck—the umbrella was for shade, as such intense direct sunlight would burn her skin. Ban Xia slowly explored the lotus leaves, probing with her feet through the soft silt between the complex lotus roots and stems. If she felt what seemed to be a swollen root node of lotus root, she would bend down, slowly digging away the silt with her hands, applying force slowly and steadily to excavate the entire root from beneath the silt.
This was skilled work—the lotus root couldn’t be broken during extraction, as broken ones didn’t preserve well. Whole lotus roots can be stored for a long time. Ban Xia had to pull out the entire half-meter-long lotus root intact from the mud, and then wash it clean in the water.
At best, she could dig out one root in five minutes; the more troublesome ones could take over ten minutes. At such times, the girl would angrily break it apart, wash it clean, and chew it in frustration, letting it die in pieces.
The fresh lotus root wasn’t tasty, quite astringent actually, so the girl chewed then made a face and spat it out.
Ban Xia slowly searched among the emerald lotus leaves, carrying her bright red umbrella.
The girl’s sensitive foot tops and toes could clearly distinguish lotus roots.
“Is this one? No.”
“Is this one? No.”
“How about this… this is it, wow, this one’s it, thick and long! And hard!”
Ban Xia bent down and pulled hard, then looked at what she’d grabbed and frowned.
Wrong pull.
What was this black cylindrical thing?
Whatever it was, it wasn’t Lotus root.
The girl shook her head and casually tossed it onto the dry mud by the lake.
Moon Bay’s lake bottom silt contained a lot of garbage, which was why Ban Xia wore shoes when entering the water. Besides stones, bricks, and broken concrete, the lake bottom might contain broken glass, rusty nails, and other sharp metal fragments that could cut bare feet.
When the bag around her neck was full, she returned to the shore to unload and rest in the tree shade.
On such a scorching day, she took a big drink of water.
“Wow—! So refreshing!”
Ban Xia sat casually on the stone slabs by the lake, gazing at the green shade on the opposite shore, enjoying the breeze.
A solitary life was simple and lazy, never having anything urgently pressing. Ban Xia could do things whenever she wanted, and not do things whenever she didn’t want to. She could continue digging lotus roots this afternoon, or sit here saying “Wow,” she could count leaves on trees, crouch down to watch ants moving house, or even close her eyes to rest, letting the gentle breeze and time drift peacefully by.
That was her time alone with the whole world.