As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, the lone traveler, with a weathered expression and a story to tell, quietly walks through the fading light. Dressed in a simple brown robe and with his hair pulled into a modest bun, he doesn’t seem to be anyone special—just an ordinary commoner, perhaps a farmer or a scholar. In this era, one could tell a lot about a person simply by their attire. Nobles and officials wore richly adorned robes with large sleeves and intricate embroidery, while the common folk typically wore plain, rough garments.

The traveler speaks, almost as though to himself, about his life, his struggles, and his memories. “You may not know my name, but you can call me Zhong,” he begins. “I don’t have a family name, nor a title. Only the powerful have titles—they either take them from their lands or their positions. As for me, I’m just a regular peasant. We don’t have titles, and our family names are passed down only from the mother’s side.”

He pauses, glancing towards the path ahead. “For example, there was a man from the State of Wei named Wei Yang, but when the King of Qin gave him land, he changed his surname to Shang. That’s how it works—titles and family names are for those in power. For us, it’s simply about survival.”

The story he shares is one of hardship, survival, and the toll of a rigid society. He talks of his life as a farmer, a life marked by hardship but also a certain kind of dignity. “I’m no stranger to hard work, though I’ve been bruised by more than just the fields. You see, I didn’t want to work on the roads—they said they were building a great wall up north. I tried to hide, to escape the forced labor. But the system in place, set up by that man, Shang Yang, means that we are all tied together. If one person falters, we all suffer.”

He continues, his voice tinged with bitterness yet tempered by acceptance. “When I was caught hiding, my neighbors didn’t hesitate to turn me in. They had no choice. If they hadn’t, they would have been punished. We may report each other, but we also help one another when we can. Life is fragile, and we tread carefully, always aware of our neighbors and their troubles.”

He recounts the hardships of forced labor, a pain that is both physical and emotional. “I was whipped fifty times, yet still, I must go and build that road, just as they ordered. My brothers—both of them—died in battle. They wrote to me once, asking if mother and I were well. I sent them money and clothes, but after that, we never heard from them again. Their letters were the last we had from them. It’s the kind of loss that lingers long after the body is gone.”

The lone traveler’s story takes a momentary shift, remembering his childhood, the warmth of his family, the simple joys of sharing a meal. “When I was young, my brothers and I would sit with our mother while she prepared meals. Life was hard, but there was a certain comfort in those moments. We ate simple things—millet, beans, and vegetables—but my mother always managed to make them taste like a feast. Sometimes, we would roast wild game that my father brought home. Those were the moments I cherished, the moments I miss the most.”

As he speaks of the past, his words soften, tinged with nostalgia for a life that seems lost to time. “I wonder if my bones will be buried in the roads I help build. They say that when workers die on the Great Wall, their bodies are buried within it, and the work continues. If I die out there, perhaps that’s how it will be. But if they can, I hope they bring my bones back home and bury them with my brothers’ letters. That would be my only wish—to be reunited with them, even in death.”

The traveler’s voice fades as he prepares to leave, his footsteps heavy with the weight of his past and uncertain future. “As I walk on, take a moment to appreciate the sunset, the warmth of home, and the simple pleasures of life. I don’t know when I’ll be back, or if I ever will.”

This poignant tale is a glimpse into the struggles of an ordinary man in ancient China—a story of resilience, hardship, and the ties that bind us together in times of hardship.