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Description
Heroes

It was 5.02am. The air was crisp, fresh, and smelled of dew. Shuang Bing had spent the night counting the water stain blossoms and tracing the pathway of the cracks on the crumbling plaster of the off-white ceiling with her eyes. In the back of her mind, she had registered that fireworks were going off above the building. It was finally, finally the last day of the festivities of the celebration of the winning of the three year war. Stretching languidly with a loud yawn, Shuang Bing rolled off the bed and stared at it. She never could get used to sleeping on that huge, frivolously ornamented bed-

"I thought you said you wanted to be inconspicuous?!" Shuang Bing hissed at the man leeched to her arm.

A crowd had gathered around them as they walked hand-in-hand shopping for bed frames in the most expensive furniture shop in the district. Most of the people gawking probably have never seen their own General before. A large part of the attention was not directed at her, but it was still unnervingly creepy the way some of the girls threw envious looks her way. She quickly detached their linked hands.

"We spend a third of our lives in bed, " he grinned, "and more. Why shouldn't we get a good one?"

-alone in the spartan cottage.

__________

Humming tunelessly, Shuang Bing repaired the table, changed the bedsheets, scrubbed the kitchen, washed the toilet, mopped the floor. Now all that was left was simply the cleaning of the drawers.

She ended her tuneless little tune and stood by the drawer with a large, empty rucksack. Not even sparing a glance at the contents inside, she pulled the drawer out entirely and shook everything inside into the rucksack. Medallion, bracelet, belt buckle, keys, ring; -

They have returned from their first battle in triumph. Without even informing the King, wounds and blood still fresh, the blond had rushed all the way to the front of her house.

"Hey! Yoohoo~ Hey! Shuang Bing!"

Ever flamboyant, the General knelt down on one knee in a flurry of robes, hands gesticulating wildly to emphasize a little box in the right when the petite girl peeked out of the balcony window.

"I'm still alive! Now you got to marry me!"

- all useless stuff.

Before tying the ropes of the sack, Shuang Bing hesitated and fished out the ring. It might be worth something...

___________

Adjusting her robes in the mirror one last time, Shuang Bing prepared to leave the house. The place was running out of groceries and it was high time she went out for a breath of fresh air.

Tugging at the old, wooden creaking door, Shuang Bing stood shocked when presents tumbled into the house from the crack it created. Almost frantically, she dragged open the remaining of the door as presents bounced off her and rolled onto the floor.

Heaped outside the corridor were presents, bouquets, fruits. Didn't she explicitly tell the landlady that she was not to be disturbed? That should be it. It must have been the root of this avalanche of gifts outside her door in the first place.

The brackets of Shuang Bing's lips curved at when she returned her attention to her corridor. Uncontrollably, her chest convulsed, her laugher bubbling over like a simmering pot of soup.

The country would always come first.

That was his very words. They have won the stupid battle with his sacrifice. What more do they want? He was never coming back. There was nothing more. They were nothing more. Shuang Bing seemed to find that notion incredibly hilarious, and she laughed so hard that her wobbly legs folded and she slid soundlessly onto the concrete floor.

The sun was no longer visble, the stars too early to be spotted; her arms were wrapped around her knees in a death grip as her chest constricts. Off in the distance, the cheers of the citizens could be heard as they hailed their King.

Description
Heroes

It was 5.02am. The air was crisp, fresh, and smelled of dew. Shuang Bing had spent the night counting the water stain blossoms and tracing the pathway of the cracks on the crumbling plaster of the off-white ceiling with her eyes. In the back of her mind, she had registered that fireworks were going off above the building. It was finally, finally the last day of the festivities of the celebration of the winning of the three year war. Stretching languidly with a loud yawn, Shuang Bing rolled off the bed and stared at it. She never could get used to sleeping on that huge, frivolously ornamented bed-

"I thought you said you wanted to be inconspicuous?!" Shuang Bing hissed at the man leeched to her arm.

A crowd had gathered around them as they walked hand-in-hand shopping for bed frames in the most expensive furniture shop in the district. Most of the people gawking probably have never seen their own General before. A large part of the attention was not directed at her, but it was still unnervingly creepy the way some of the girls threw envious looks her way. She quickly detached their linked hands.

"We spend a third of our lives in bed, " he grinned, "and more. Why shouldn't we get a good one?"

-alone in the spartan cottage.

__________

Humming tunelessly, Shuang Bing repaired the table, changed the bedsheets, scrubbed the kitchen, washed the toilet, mopped the floor. Now all that was left was simply the cleaning of the drawers.

She ended her tuneless little tune and stood by the drawer with a large, empty rucksack. Not even sparing a glance at the contents inside, she pulled the drawer out entirely and shook everything inside into the rucksack. Medallion, bracelet, belt buckle, keys, ring; -

They have returned from their first battle in triumph. Without even informing the King, wounds and blood still fresh, the blond had rushed all the way to the front of her house.

"Hey! Yoohoo~ Hey! Shuang Bing!"

Ever flamboyant, the General knelt down on one knee in a flurry of robes, hands gesticulating wildly to emphasize a little box in the right when the petite girl peeked out of the balcony window.

"I'm still alive! Now you got to marry me!"

- all useless stuff.

Before tying the ropes of the sack, Shuang Bing hesitated and fished out the ring. It might be worth something...

___________

Adjusting her robes in the mirror one last time, Shuang Bing prepared to leave the house. The place was running out of groceries and it was high time she went out for a breath of fresh air.

Tugging at the old, wooden creaking door, Shuang Bing stood shocked when presents tumbled into the house from the crack it created. Almost frantically, she dragged open the remaining of the door as presents bounced off her and rolled onto the floor.

Heaped outside the corridor were presents, bouquets, fruits. Didn't she explicitly tell the landlady that she was not to be disturbed? That should be it. It must have been the root of this avalanche of gifts outside her door in the first place.

The brackets of Shuang Bing's lips curved at when she returned her attention to her corridor. Uncontrollably, her chest convulsed, her laugher bubbling over like a simmering pot of soup.

The country would always come first.

That was his very words. They have won the stupid battle with his sacrifice. What more do they want? He was never coming back. There was nothing more. They were nothing more. Shuang Bing seemed to find that notion incredibly hilarious, and she laughed so hard that her wobbly legs folded and she slid soundlessly onto the concrete floor.

The sun was no longer visble, the stars too early to be spotted; her arms were wrapped around her knees in a death grip as her chest constricts. Off in the distance, the cheers of the citizens could be heard as they hailed their King.