they starve. Thatâs not providing. Thatâs certainly not noble. Thatâs being given no choice. Thatâs being trapped. Youâve been with the artists so long, youâve forgotten what itâs like for the rest of us.
Thatâs not fair
, I say, feeling my own anger rise.
You know the job we do is vital to the villageâs survival. And of course I know what itâs like for the miners! Thatâs the whole point of my job: observing everyone.
Observing is not the same as experiencing.
Li Wei gestures angrily to my stump.
You sit there and judge others from a safe distance every day. You assume because you watch us, you understand us. But you donât. If you did, you never would haveâ
He canât finish, so I do.
Bettered myself? Accepted a position that raised my sister and me out of that hovel and gave us a place of honor and comfort? One that allowed me to actually use my talents? What is so wrong with wanting to improve my life?
He doesnât speak for several moments. Then:
Did it, Fei? Did it improve your life?
I think back to lazy summer days, lying in the grass with him, our hands linked as we talked about the future. I only ran errands for the artists back then. It wasnât until I was offered an official apprenticeship that my status in the village changed, raising me up from a minerâs family to Elder Chenâs successor. My parents had just died, and Zhang Jing and I were living in a small, ramshackle place, given the barest of rations while waiting for the results of the testing weâd undergone at the Peacock Court in order to be accepted. The elders so coveted my talents that they took Zhang Jing on as well, though her skills were less than mine. That move gave me everything I could ever have wanted, with one exception: Artists only marry other artists.
Did it improve your life?
Li Wei asks again.
In most ways
, I say at last, hating the pain I see flash through his eyes.
But what could we do? You know I had to take the opportunity. And with it came sacrifices. Thatâs life, Li Wei. Thatâs the way itâs always been.
Maybe itâs time things change
, he shoots back. He stalks away from me just as other miners begin emerging from the main entrance for lunch. I watch him until the crowd swallows him, wondering what exactly he meant should change. The system that traps Bao and others in the mines? Or the one that has kept Li Wei and me apart? After a moment, I realize that they are one and the same.
As the miners settle down in various clusters, eating and talking, I flit about them as unobtrusively as possible, trying to watch conversations and gather all the information I canâandtrying not to think about what Li Wei said. A busy time like this one is when our observing-without-interfering mandate is most important.
When I return to my stump, I do a double take when I discover that someone has taken a knife to its surface. What was previously simply flat and weathered has now been carved up with a chrysanthemum designâa really remarkable one. Carving is not a trade cultivated very much at my school, but my artistic eye canât help but notice the skill and detail that has gone into every single petal of this king of flowersâa flower Iâve only ever seen in books. These chrysanthemums are beautiful, and the fact that theyâve been created in such a short time makes them even more amazing.
I sigh, knowing where they came from. Throughout our youth, whenever we had a dispute, Li Wei and I would apologize to each other by exchanging gifts. Mine would be in the form of drawings, crudely done with whatever natural supplies I could find. His would always be carvings. There was only one time the exchange didnât happen, the day I told him I was accepting the apprentice position and would never be able to marry him. We argued then, and after the fact, I painted chrysanthemums outside his door as a peace offering.