The Plastic Piano

The surface of the dung heap was dry and hard, brittle even, but the inside remained a thick, muddy mess. The herdsmen had probably gathered and piled it up, but before they could spread it out to dry, the Huaxia regular army had evacuated them. Liu Shiheng's body had been nourished by source energy; without needing to activate his source energy apparatus, a simple burst of physical strength was enough to let him burrow right in. In fact, had he not deliberately held back, he would have punched straight through the dung heap and splattered out the other side. He had restrained himself, and now he was buried just right. "F-fuck my life..." Every sensation across his body felt vividly real yet bizarre. The slow, sluggish ooze was particularly distinct against the patches of skin untouched by clothing. Breathing, naturally, was out of the question. "Guess I'll hold my breath for a bit..." "Well, I'm already in here anyway." He thought to himself, torn between tears and laughter. Besides, outside were two individuals who very likely belonged to the Cleansing Faction, lurking about the battlefield. Liu Shiheng was beginning to feel some regret. Not because of the dung heap. Compared to his long-festering, ever-growing desire to leave Azure and keep himself alive, getting coated in cow dung wasn't even worth mentioning. "To put it bluntly, if it really guarantees I get out of here alive... I'd eat a mouthful of it without blinking." "So what if I'm a coward? What's wrong with groveling to survive? Once I get back to the bustling world with pockets full of cash, which girl is gonna care that I was once covered in cow shit?" The root of Liu Shiheng's regret lay in his sudden realization that there was a high probability quite a few operatives from the Cleansing Faction and the Self-Preservation Faction were wandering this battlefield. For an Azure soldier operating alone like him, their presence was practically fatal. If he had run into these people while still with the squad, he definitely wouldn't have slipped away. Curled into a ball inside the dung heap, Liu Shiheng quietly activated his source energy apparatus. In this kind of situation, he was probably the first person in Azure history to do so. Gripping his dead iron war blade tightly in one hand, he used the other to gingerly push open a tiny peephole. "Don't come over here. You two better pray to every god and Buddha that you don't spot me... otherwise, dead or alive, I'm blasting you with a face full of cow shit first." Crisp, rustling footsteps came from not far off, drawing steadily closer. Then came the sound of voices. One of the two spoke fluent French, while the other had a Southeast Asian accent but was doing his best to speak French as well. Liu Shiheng had met a few Frenchmen in the past and had been forced to learn some French etiquette. He had never actually studied the language, so in his jumbled state of mind, he could only pick out a few vague words: "Great Spike." "Purang?! Isn't that Squad 1777's destination?!" There was nothing strange about an Azure squad heading out to hunt Great Spikes, but were just the two of them looking for one? Were they top combat powers?! Didn't look like it. And Purang—what did Purang have to do with this? Was their squad going to Purang too? What kind of nonsense was this? Forget it. He truly lacked the energy to ponder and analyze it any further. Once the footsteps faded into the distance, he waited a little longer. Dripping with muck, Liu Shiheng pulled out his hands, then his head, his torso, and finally his legs, hauling himself out of the dung heap... and continued forward. To be honest, he had no idea whether he was actually moving forward; all he knew was that he was heading in the opposite direction of those two. About an hour later, the sound of flowing water drifted through the darkness. A stream ran beneath the grass. Crouching down, Liu Shiheng reached out to touch the water. An instant of excitement gave way to hesitation. "To be fair, walking across the open plains covered in cow dung might make me harder to spot..." "But damn it all, it attracts too many flies." He plunged right in. Water splashed as he washed himself for more than twenty minutes before finally feeling clean. When he stood up, both his clothes and his skin were soaking wet. Although the special fabric of the Azure uniform dried quickly, it was still uncomfortable. At the same time, hunger hit him. With his source energy apparatus shut off, the pangs came on fast. After exerting himself this much, the tiny bit of food he had eaten earlier didn't do a thing. "If I keep wandering blindly like this without finding a way out, I might really end up having to eat cow dung." After trekking with a rumbling stomach for another half hour or so, his clothes were nearly dry. In a twisted corner of the valley, Liu Shiheng spotted a solitary, abandoned house. It wasn't a yurt—it was an actual brick-and-mortar dwelling. "Let's see if I can scrounge up something to eat." Crouching low against the base of the wall, he listened for about ten minutes. Once reasonably sure there was no one inside, Liu Shiheng stepped in. Disappointment followed almost immediately. The interior was in utter shambles, looking as if it had been abandoned long before the recent evacuation rather than in the wake of it. It might have simply been a seasonal shelter where herdsmen stayed occasionally during grazing periods. "Nothing at all." Without turning on his flashlight, Liu Shiheng surveyed the room as best he could, casually sifting through the clutter with caution. Aside from some broken furniture, he found nothing of use. A wave of suffocating dejection washed over him, completely draining his spirits. Giving up, he slowly slid down against the wall, closing his eyes in silence to rest for a while. Then he lit a cigarette and took slow drags. In the pitch-black void of this abandoned house, the silence brought him an even deeper sense of loneliness and helplessness than wandering alone across the open plains... "Life, destiny—fuck you both." When he raised his head again, he was facing the window. Next to it stood a small table he hadn't bothered to search earlier. In the faint light filtering through the window, Liu Shiheng caught sight of something red. A red casing, flanked by black and white keys. He stood up, drew closer, and finally saw what it was—a children's toy, a plastic piano, roughly the length of a forearm and the width of a palm. Perhaps it was the most expensive gift a herdsman father had ever given his child, or perhaps a donation from some kindhearted stranger. In any case, it had once been a treasured possession of some plateau child, left behind for who knew what reason... maybe there hadn't been enough time? "Do... do, re, mi." With just a casual tap, the plastic piano unexpectedly produced a sound. Unconsciously, he pressed two more keys. The simple notes chimed with piercing clarity in the dark, dead silence, ringing sharp in Liu Shiheng's ears. This toy piano actually still had batteries. Liu Shiheng stood there, staring down at the little plastic instrument. As he watched it, an abrupt grin spread across his face, and for a fleeting moment, all worry and fear vanished. He set the piano straight on the tabletop, dragged over a rickety stool with an uneven leg, sat with his back ramrod straight, and placed both hands on the table. A dilapidated old house, a window framed by dim starlight, a plastic toy piano, and a lopsided stool. A soldier bearing an Azure battleblade and a source energy apparatus on his back—no, a deserter... sitting there in the formal posture of a concert pianist. "I ought to play some jazz... a dance tune." This was the very first amusing thing that had happened on this miserable day. Liu Shiheng raised his hands, his mind drifting back to luxury cruise ships and upscale Western restaurants. The moment his fingertips brushed the keys, Liu Shiheng froze. He had been sent to piano lessons when he was very young, but he had never applied himself, and whatever he knew had long since faded from memory... "Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are." That wasn't just a nursery rhyme; it was a variation from Mozart's *Twelve Variations on 'Ah vous dirai-je, Maman', K. 265*. Except that was all. Just that single line, played using a single index finger, before he pulled back his hands with the flourish of a grand maestro. A blue flash flared behind Liu Shiheng as he sprang to his feet, drew his blade, and whipped around. The edge pointed toward a heap of wooden clutter in the corner. "Who's there? Come out!" Could anyone believe it? Someone had actually clapped for him! Even if it was just a single, soft clap that broke off immediately. "Come out." Liu Shiheng switched on his flashlight, pressing the beam down as he swept it across the room. There was no answer, but wooden planks continued to clatter and creak... someone was moving over there. It seemed impossible for them to belong to the Cleansing Faction or the Self-Preservation Faction; more likely than not, they were civilians. And quite possibly a child—the owner of the plastic piano. Only now did Liu Shiheng recall and notice that there had been hardly any dust on the toy; what little there was had probably rubbed off the table. "Don't be afraid, I'm..." Liu Shiheng lowered his voice, tugging at the insignia on his chest, then his shoulder epaulet. While Azure uniforms differed from regular military attire, they still bore military hallmarks—at least enough to look the part. *Clatter, thud.* A wooden board was pushed aside, followed by a small cabinet tumbling to the floor. A tiny figure stood up. At first, she ducked her head to shield her eyes from the flashlight beam, but once adjusted, she straightened back up, standing there and looking up at him. Every now and then, she tilted her head to steal a glance at the red plastic piano resting on the table behind him. It was a little girl, perhaps seven or eight, maybe ten years old. She bore the distinct features of the plateau: a thin, weathered face with a reddish-brown complexion, double eyelids, eyes that were not particularly large, and soft, yellowish hair tied messily behind her head. Her clothes and face were covered in dirt and dust, making her appear frail and delicate in the flashlight's glow. A strand of traditional local beads hung around her neck. "You..." Liu Shiheng sheathed his blade, about to speak. *Clatter, clatter...* A flurry of sounds erupted from the corner and the inner room. Soon, seven or eight plateau children were standing before Liu Shiheng, boys and girls alike. Most were older than the scruffy girl who had stood up first, looking to be around thirteen or fourteen. Then came the adults. Four elderly people and three women hurried out from the back room or climbed over the low partition, stepping in front of the children to size Liu Shiheng up with tense, searching eyes. They seemed agitated, yet remained on guard. "Sol... Soldier Uncle?" Finally, the scruffy girl who had stood up first looked up at him, asking earnestly in a childish voice and halting Mandarin. Liu Shiheng paused for a moment, then replied, "Yes." With just that one word, joy and tears welled up in the children's eyes all at once. They excitedly babbled to one another in their local dialect, their eyes and faces brightening with radiant smiles. Beside them, the elders and women didn't seem to understand Mandarin. They leaned down to question the girl, and upon receiving her confirmation, their faces lit up with joy as well. The gazes they turned toward Liu Shiheng grew warm, trusting, relieved, and full of emotion. ... "Strange things flying in the sky." "That thing fell down, monsters came out, killed our cattle and sheep." "We were grazing." "The grown-ups couldn't beat them... died. Men on horses led them away." "We were scared, ran away, hid here." "..." Between the children's jumbled accounts, the story quickly pieced itself together. Liu Shiheng nodded. "Has no one found you all this time?" The children looked at him and shook their heads. Then one of them said, "Bad people... killing, burning... we were scared." They must have seen people from the Cleansing Faction, Liu Shiheng thought. "You are the first Soldier Uncle," the children added. An old man stepped forward from the side, holding out a small cloth bundle and carefully unwrapping it before Liu Shiheng. Inside were coarse crushed grains and a few strips of dried meat. Liu Shiheng looked at him. The old man nodded, began to speak, then stopped himself, offering a warm smile instead. Across his weathered, sun-darkened face, the crow's feet crinkled with genuine warmth.