51 The Dawning of Journey's End
Shura arrived in front of the girl. His body cast a shadow over the girl. She looked up at him with red eyes, but they were red from crying. He couldn't see any hatred in her eyes at all.
It was unexpected. He had assumed that she would hate him with every fiber of her being and want to take revenge on him.
"Don't you hate me?" Shura spoke softly. "Don't you want to take revenge for your father and brother?"
The girl shook her head once, then twice.
After a long silence, Shura could only speak one word: "Why?"
The girl did not answer his question. To Shura, however, it was a form of reply.
Shura dropped his sword to the ground. He looked up at the ceiling. He couldn't see the sky because he was indoor.
"I won't kill you," Shura said.
Shura picked his sword up and crouched down next to the girl. He placed the sword in her hand. The girl did not resist.
Shura then guided the tip of the blade to his chest. It was only a little bit away from his skin, and his heart.
"Take your revenge," Shura said softly.
"TAKE IT!" Shura shouted.
Shura's shout frightened the girl. Her hands were shaking, but she didn't press the sword forward.
Shura waited for a long time, but the sword did not pierce him.
Shura stood up and the girl dropped the sword.
The metallic sound of his sword dropping to the ground sounded like the breaking of something. Of course, nothing had broken in reality. In Shura's mind, however, something really had shattered. It wasn't his sword, and it wasn't his will that shattered, but his hope and expectation of living a calm and normal life free from strife.
Shura had the hunch that things wouldn't turn out the way he wanted a long time ago. They were fleeting thoughts that popped up and vanished. Shura had dismissed them and did not give it much thought. He had continued to hope… to wish… for a peaceful and normal life.
His journey had begun when he was a young man who couldn't be any more normal. That young man couldn't help but yearn for the cultivators and their way of life, their wealth, their prestige, their power, security, and happiness because that was what he lacked. Their promises of eternal life and the power to subdue everything kept Shura awoke during many nights.
He had gone through much and had seen through all of these things. They were nothing but mirages to him. It was nothing but a great lie. He stretched his hands out to touch them, but he could never reach them. Were they too far away? Were they nonexistent in the first place? He had made his peace with it and all he wanted was a return to a simple life away from it all.
But even this final hope was dashed.
Being born again did not make any difference. He was born into a world that was ready to explode into the sort of fighting and killing and power struggles that he had long grown weary.
None of the memories he had made while growing up changed him on a fundamental level either. He was a tired old man in the body of a youth.
It was a mistake to expect that others or even the world would be receptive of his wishes and grant him the normal life he desired.
There was but one thing left for him to do. He would take to the wilds. Since nothing could give him that peace, he would make it himself. And if even then the people wanted to fight over the untamed wilderness and nature, he would kill and destroy anything and everyone that would get in the way of him living out the rest of his life in this final, peaceful haven.
It was at this moment that an enormous fighting spirit ignited within Shura. He was no coward. He could fight and kill, steal and destroy. The strongest in the land? The most powerful king, emperor, tyrant, saint? The strongest warrior? He could be any of them and more. Yet he didn't.
He just wanted a peaceful place to live undisturbed.
The time was near, but today would not be the day of the birth of the hermit who shunned the world. His hands were bloodied. Before he renounced the world, he had to take care of the karmas he had made. But he was only one man, there was a limit to what he could do. He knew what he had to do.
Shura smiled wryly and said to himself, "My body is youthful but my heart is already elderly."
Shura looked at the girl and said: "Since I took the life of your father and brother, I shall become like a father and a brother to you. If you ever change your mind, you're free to take revenge whenever you want."
Shura finally turned his head to look at his family. Their gazes and expressions differed, but he could tell that they were frightened and uncomfortable at what happened, at what he did.
Only his grandparents, who now had their eyes open, were looking at the bloody scene calmly, as if it was a normal thing in everyday life.
Such a scene WAS normal to Shura. He could sense that this difference between him and his family would prevent them from truly understanding and accepting one another.
That was fine. He was going to be a hermit and live in the wilds after all. To live a life of simplicity away from the turbulent world of human desires was the few things Shura still felt interested in.
"Father and Mother disagree with my way of doing things?" Shura asked them anyway and sheathed his sword.
The Qi Province Lord could not mutter any word. He was unaccustomed to the fighting and the blood. He was green in this regard, something unexpected for a man in his position.
"My son…" Lady Qi couldn't finish her sentence.
Shura blinked and smiled.
"The ruler of the land has given his implicit consent for every lord to raise their armies and do whatever they want. This piece of news isn't strange to your ears. One way or another they will be fighting and killing, if not to gain power, then to protect themselves. The common people will die like cats and dogs on the side of the road in the crossfire as well."
"If I did not kill these men, they would come and kill us one day. Our lack of ability and ruthlessness would make others think us easy target and they would come after us."
"It's fine that a great moralist hasn't been born into the world to teach morality. Whether someone views me as good or evil, I don't care. All I do, I do for survival. Those who are uncomfortable with these things are doomed to die. That is all there is to it. This is turbulent time after all."
"Aiya! It's all my fault," Grandma said. "Little Xiao had seen far too little blood. Never would I have imagined that another age of chaos would occur during my lifetime. That emperor really is a good-for-nothing emperor. If he was going to let the world burn, what was the point of uniting it in the first place?"
Grandma shook her head.
Little Xiao was what Grandma called Shura's father.
Shura had more words to say, but he felt that it was unnecessary. His grandparents weren't just elderly people who delighted in watching their grandchildren grow up. He had known from the start that they had gone through much, they weren't normal. Now that things have come this far, they would know what to do, they would probably head out themselves and lead attacks on the Tai Province and the seat of the Gu Region Lord's power.
They were capable of it too. Shura hoped that he would never have to come out of retirement like his grandparents.
Shura's high attainment in the realm of the soul and body had allowed him to know the time of his death. He would never turn seventy-one. He still had a full fifty-two years left to live. He would spend twenty-six looking after the girl. He had lived all of his life being selfish and going after what he wanted. He would spend the remaining half of his life being selfless and doing things for the wellbeing and benefits of others. And if he was still alive afterward, his remaining years would be spent in retirement in some remote corners of the wild, free from the world of people and their desires and conflicts. He didn't want to fight anymore.
Would the world be peaceful by then? Why he still need to go to the wilds? He didn't know, but he knew that his plan of action was set.
"Let's go find you a room. You need to rest. We'll think of what happens next afterward," Shura said to the girl as he led her out of the hall.
