act14mini

I'd rather die than––

The boy's voice cracks from how emotional he gets, and he stumbles backwards in embarrassment, nearly falling over.

His voice is immature and hoarse, the strong wind atop the mountain tugging at his cracked voice as it trails off, distorted yet still coming across resolutely.

You really are a stubborn kid... I can't convince you, and it's not like I expect you to think about me...

But, I can't let you go down the mountain today, no matter what. If you press on anyway, I'm going to throw myself headfirst off the edge of this cliff.

The hunter lowers his head. The boy seems to calm down somewhat, and though he still has more to say, he does not open his mouth again.

Fine sand splashes across the people's faces. In these desolate mountains, the wind is ever dry, even during spring.

Nobody says a word. The swordswoman quietly moves a few steps closer to the edge of the cliff.

Dad, lift your head and look at me.

(Shakes his head)

Dad, is it better for everyone if Fang Xiaoshi dies?

Yes...

'Fang Xiaoshi' should be no more.

When he was little, he used to kick pebbles off the cliff one after another, patiently waiting for the sound to come from afar.

He, and his name, are just like those small stones.

And now, he has become one with those stones.

The speed with which he plummets from the cliff is not so fast. He even has time to think of the tuskbeast he and Qiubai saw in the woods, remembering the look in its dying eyes.

Was it one of unwillingness, panic, or... relief?

Is it the wind?

The wind supports his back.

The spring breeze flows through the temple, kicking up a cloud of fine dust. The sun shines high overhead, the warmth outside contrasting with the temple's chilly interior.

The old man's hunched back quivers slightly, but he nevertheless remains seated.

The wandering monk draws two steps closer to him.

When I think back on everything that's happened over the last few days, it seems almost like a dream...

The man who went up the mountain to bury the explosives, the man who personally wrote the application letter to the government, and the man who lied to the investigator just now... Was that really me?

How nice it would be if you told me that this was all a dream.

I recall a saying I once heard: 'don't speak of dreams to fools.' Dost thou now see thyself the fool?

Ridiculous, isn't it...?

Three years ago, Fang Xiaoshi left the village after blowing up the Yishan Temple. But, I used them myself that night... the very same explosives the boy had made.

Hmm...

I remember rushing over to the hunter's house to dig out the unused portion of Fang Xiaoshi's explosives from his room. I originally intended to confiscate them for safekeeping so they would not be used for harm.

Who would've thought... that they really should've been kept from me?

Oh, it all becomes clear.

Venerable Elder, at this juncture, what does your heart now tell you?

*sigh*

I don't care if I die now. I just feel... bad for those I've wronged.

Fang Xiaoshi... Though the boy was paranoid and reckless, it's not as if he was rotten at his core. He destroyed the ancestors' temple for the sake of his father, out of a sense of filial piety.

To make matters worse... None of this had anything to do with him. He was only fifteen, so young... and we drove him to his death...

The other boy... I don't know where he came from, or what he came here to do. But, he stayed here, and did not go back. Now, his family will never hear of him, no matter how much they cry and wail...

But, even when I prayed for him before my ancestors, all I could call him was 'Fang Xiaoshi'... I didn't dare consider whether his soul would be able to rest in peace, fearing that it would forever haunt Moushan Village.

Please, don't come any closer, Shifu.

After hearing the prayer thou didst offer, I have been chanting sutras for the boy in my spare time these past few days.

A pity that my head priest never formally taught more than a few full sutras... But hopefully, my sincerity was enough.

Now, everything has come to light. Those two lives... If the mandarins decide to pursue the leads, a dozen households, a hundred people, will all be implicated because of my actions.

I know how deeply I've sinned, which is why I do not dare beg forgiveness from the ancestors. All I can do, all I can do is...

Hyaa––

Cease thine improper thoughts!

Huff––

This is the last pouch of explosives, yes?

I hid it on me, thinking you wouldn't notice.

I was planning on killing myself before you showed up, but after mulling it over some more, I couldn't even follow through with that.

Three years ago, Fang Xiaoshi was able to pull the string on the buried explosives. Looks like I don't even have the spine to match a child.

Didst thou believe ending thy life would form an adequate solution to all that has happened here?

Wrong! Incorrect!

No, this is thine assumption that thou couldst abandon the situation, that thou couldst avoid living with the consequences.

The time when thou knew not that I was here, the words thou didst offer to the ancestors were full of self-pity for acting on behalf of the village, mentioning nothing of the explosives or of the boy's death!

I...

That night, had the nameless boy not passed by the foot of the mountain, had the explosives dislodged naught but dirt and pebble, had the mudslide washed away only the Chidao, wouldst thou have come upon the same fate as now?

Couldst thou know if there was as well a little fowlbeast happening to fly by, stopping to preen its feathers only to be drowned in the sand and mud?

Now, what will become of the Chidao? And of this temple? And of the entire village?

Had the mudslide never come, thou ought yet repent for the rain that never should have fallen.

I, I'll explain everything to the mandarins.

*sigh*

The old man gathers the pieces of the dismantled explosives in front of him.

After kneeling for so long, he has nearly lost all sensation in his legs, and he falls to the ground again. The coldness pours into his forehead, and he feels as if he cannot stand back up, able to do nothing but prostrate himself lower and lower.

The two souls before him seem to be causing quite the uproar, but the mountain excavator does not pay them any heed.

A few pieces of mud have peeled off the eye sockets of the clay sculpture, and it is difficult to tell if its sight was fixed on the ruined beams of the temple or the desolate land just outside it.

Clear are the clouds and warm is the breeze, just in time for Chunfen.

Are you awake yet?

Your vision's a bit blurry, but you can still tell good from evil... Looks like your brain's intact.

Remember when I said before that you were at least afraid of death? Seems like you didn't hold onto that either.

So, this is the third time I've saved your life.

You really had the guts to dive off that cliff, huh? I'm not a fowlbeast after all, and nearly lost my own life going after you.

Thank... you...

Don't mention it. I was the one who brought you back, so of course I'd rather nothing happened to you. But I didn't expect you to actually jump, which slowed my reaction.

If you don't feel like talking, then don't.

You can still walk, can't you? I'm not planning to head back to the village.

If you don't know where you want to go, I suppose you can follow me around for a while.

...Alright.

You asked me about my life story before, didn't you? Maybe this would be the right time to tell you.

Back when the army broke through the river fort at Jiangqi, my father and a number of the other bandits were put to death, but I managed to escape. To the government, I am also a person without a name.

There are many, many nameless people in this land. Just like you, just like me, just like the boy who nearly became 'Fang Xiaoshi.'

A name is certainly important, but it's more important for you to understand the meaning behind that name.

If you want to stand up and fight injustice, does it really matter what you are called? Sometimes, you'll make bigger waves and accomplish more things without a name.

Only by letting go of meaningless obsessions can we truly recognize what we are meant to do.

I don't expect you to understand my words right now. I have my own things to do, so I can't take care of you forever. But, if you truly want to learn kung fu, I can teach you for now.

When you're capable enough to establish yourself, or figure things out on your own, or find something else worth living for, you're free to leave at any time.

But, know that there are many who succumb to evil and cause calamity after acquiring power. If you become a man like that, I <i>will</i> kill you.

Alright. I'll teach you another saying we have among jianghu martial artists. It pretty much means the same thing as 'there's always next time.'

Lai ri fang chang. Tomorrow is long.

Do you understand?

Yes.

Then, hurry it up.

...Alright.

<i>Infection Diary:</i>

<i>Went to the hospital today. Finally got closure. It's better to know that there </i>are<i> rocks in my body than worry about whether they're there or not.</i>

<i>I've been a hospital regular since I was little. Maybe that's why I didn't feel much when the doctor gave his prognosis.</i>

<i>What's the meaning of life? It's a question that countless films and books have explored, and a question that means nothing to me anymore.</i>

<i>In the days I have left, I want to make something that truly belongs to me.</i>

<i>I've often wondered if our vision has been limited by the environment we can see, and the land portrayed on the television screen, without us realizing it.</i>