My name is Jingjie — Keep-Watch. General Beng gave it to me. Master says a name is an assignment: whatever you're called, that's what you do.
My post is the easternmost one, staring straight at the Scorched Ridge. My arm was broken last month by a yao that came down from there; Master chased it twenty li for me. The arm healed, and I haven't missed a single watch since. Days I read the smoke, nights I read the lights, and in wind I listen. Master taught me: a sentry's skill isn't the eyes — it's the not-blinking.
The mountain says I'm too tense for my age. Nonsense. Master is old, Grandpa Marshal Ma is old — somewhere on that line there has to be a pair of young eyes. I sleep with one eye open. That's not boasting. It's the truth.