youfightgood:

Before the sunlight could filter through the minuscule holes in the fabric of his tent, Li Shang was awake and stretching his calves, his shoulders, his back. With each satisfying pull, he felt more and more inclined to be productive with his day, and despite the disappointed gaze he had received from Chi Fu last night and the somewhat lackluster performance of his overworked men, he was content.

They needed this break, himself included. Shang just wasn’t sure all of them deserved it.

It wasn’t as if he had been given a defunct lot of soldiers. There were strong men in his group of conscripts, men who had spent days in the fields laboring and had muscles without Shang’s instruction; and then there were boys who spent training sessions playing with one another like puppies, giggling, and these were the ones who frustrated him most.

“Zǎo ān, Ping,” he greeted the little soldier politely when he saw him, and for once he did not eye the boy critically. Ping was strange, Shang knew that, but had he been talking to himself just then? It was a little pitiful, really, that a boy could be so lonely that he would resort to having conversations with himself. Perhaps if he hadn’t been accustomed to a solitary lifestyle, he would be similar to Ping. 

Cringe. No, he was not like this hapless recruit. He was not like Ping, who had spent his first day in the army cleaning rice from between blades of grass.

Straightening and lifting his chin slightly, he regarded Ping thoughtfully.

“Where are you off to, soldier?” Shang, at least, was thankful the nearest village was a good distance and the brothel even further away. Maybe a few men - boys - would make an attempt at sneaking out to it on their free day, but the strict captain wouldn’t simply turn his face the other way if he suspected something. And anyway, Ping never liked waking up early. He stared at him, his mouth turning down at the corners. Boyish, awkward Ping, stealing away to a house of ill repute?

“Captain,” murmured Ping respectfully, inclining his head and clasping his hands together.  Okay, so maybe Ping seemed destined to fail at every physical task that was set for him, but in some things he could be a fast learner.  And one of those things was deference to the officer who was so determined to make soldiers of them if it killed him…or them…or Ping.  Most days, Ping was convinced it would take all three.  Nothing short of heavenly intervention, he was sure, could turn the men at Wu Zhong into a troop of good soldiers; but Ping put that down to his own inexperience.  If a man as strict as Li Shang hadn’t given up on them yet, who was Ping to question it?  Even if some days he was so tired he wished they’d all get sent home in disgrace?  "Zǎo'ān.

“Oh, you know,” he elaborated gruffly, looking at the captain as if discussing a secret they shared.  "Just thought I’d make the best of my day off, heh!  Can’t sit still all day playing dice or - or drinking.  Any of that stuff we men get up to.“  Ping coughed.  Sometimes, especially when Mushu was hiding in Ping’s jacket instead of trying to "help,” he thought he had the pretending to be a man thing down, and sometimes he felt like his own tongue would be the death of him.  Quickly, the young recruit moved on.  "So, uh, I thought I’d go for a walk!  Around camp.  After breakfast.  I mean I had breakfast, and now I’m walking.“  

It was no use.  Ping’s hands, which’d moved expressively as he spoke, faltered and fell to his sides as the would-be soldier tried to pretend none of the last minute or so had ever happened.  It was difficult, because even though he was staring at a patch of grass as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, Captain Shang’s shadow slanted across the grass, which reminded Ping that Shang was there and probably staring very hard at Ping in confusion.  And there was a tiny part of Ping that felt there was no point in pretending to be a man when men like Li Shang actually existed.  But that part of Ping was probably the least manly of all, and he couldn’t afford to listen to it.

And the captain was probably still there.  "Right, so, how’re you enjoying your free day?  Sir,” piped Ping.