3 A Reason to Struggle
" A pair of fine eyes you have got there , better not let them go to waste ! " was the Man's only response to His fierce glare naturally it was spoken in a manner that was as condescending as possible.
He pants intensely ; each breath of his is squeezed out painfully as if the air is full of ash and brimstone rather than the fragrance of the blossoms that are clustered around nearby.
The sky is a clear blue , the exact same hue as the forget-me-nots which twirl excitedly in response to the gentle breeze.
Even so to him it seems far more desolate than the grey shade seen during a thunderstorm which mirrors his heart.
How can the world move on after what happened ?
How can everything engage themselves in celebration when all that is left are sundered eschatological remnants ; shouldn't the earth spew hellfire and roar in rage ?
Shouldn't the sky scream and the Heavens wail ?
Shouldn't all life have withered away and be no different from walking corpses ?
Why then are they so jubilant in death ?
Why then are the so triumphant at watching his world be shattered ?
In that world he had actually meant something !
In that world he had a purpose to live !
Without them ; without their shadows that lie imprinted on his heart still what is he ?
Is he even alive ?
Can he justify his existence ?
Or be just a blunt tool as that Man had always wanted him to be ; an emotionless sword that would be forever wielded in the hands of others.
He opens his mouth in order to let out a howl that echoes the depth of his feeling which can no longer be constrained by the feeble shackles of words but all that comes out is a miserable groan.
He is now bereft of the ability to even complain .
The man looks on in a detached manner . " Get your act together ! " he says , " there's no escape from reality ! Still to think that they have affected you this much . Perhaps you even have a reason to live now !"
" How futile ! Regardless of how hard you try there's no running away . Fate catches up eventually ."
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Why do humans struggle when it would've been prudent to have suffered in silence ?
The flesh may be peeled off and the heart ripped out but there's still something that is left behind , something that is still alive even when breath has ceased and the bones have rotted away beneath the earth.
Perhaps that was the existence popularly referred to as the ' Soul' .
The mastery of the Stars Plucking Great Skill causes an unique talent to awaken that very often changes the perception of the world itself.
Ren Woxing was not the greatest genius in the history of the Three Stars Holy Cult , to be fair he could be considered an ordinary genius at best , yet it was he eventually ended up as the Cult Master and not the other proud 'Sons Of Heaven ' who had long since ended up as feed for worms .
He could chalk the reason down to his own 'foresight ' that had allowed him to keep a head calm and navigate swiftly through crises while ensuring that he wouldn't sustain too many losses.
It was perhaps because of this pragmatic nature that he possessed that he ended up with this particular talent.
A talent that served him in no way whatsoever in actual combat but offered him priceless insight instead.
Through the strange fog that obscured a person's true nature he could peer deep into the mystical inner world that was hidden from all others including themselves .
In a literary sense he could be said to be able to peer into the 'Soul' itself .
Man or beast it didn't matter as long as one was alive one possessed a certain ' Will' that served as a proof for existence and demonstrated that an indelible mark had been left behind in the world corresponding to one's existence.
But even so what was it with this tremendous Will ?
The strange sparkle that radiated from this roiling fog dwarfed anything that he had ever seen before.
It was as if this otherworldly mist was Alive !
No , it wasn't just the fog itself the land itself was emanating a raging wave that nearly overwhelmed him with it's inexorable intensity .
Here he was , finally at the border of the Abandoned Land Of The Gods and it was as if he was at the boundary of two worlds that were never meant to be so close .
The blue flower that was held by him securely suddenly stirred and before he could stop it took flight into the ether , it's petals peeling off one by one ; each merging with the mist steadily causing the intensity of the already tyrannical Will to promote by a huge extent.
When the final petal vanished tremors shook through the entire land , avalanches of rock descended from the heights and invisible thunder howled somewhere high above.
It was as if a long slumbering Giant had just woken up in response to a summons.
The sudden promotion in Will could no longer be borne by his Mortal eyes and he hurriedly shielded them from the blazing form of the Titan that rose from deep within the Misty Fathoms .
The roar of the Titan was loud enough to cause his ears to collapse from being unable to be able to bear the strain.
Even though he knew not what it's scream meant , it's immense voice was reminiscent of a very familiar activity that he had witnessed time and time again.
But the possibility was just too frightening to comprehend .
Just this mere wisp of Will of this Titan was sufficient enough to force all the beings of the Mainland to bow collectively , to whom then was it struggling to prove it's existence ?
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He eventually got over it.
There was after all no point in being indecisive any longer.
Once again the trees shed their leaves during Autumn and regained them once more at the onset of spring.
His sword has drunk to it's fill many times in this interval.
The Man is as mystical as he always was , arriving just as suddenly as he disappears remembering his existence only when it is of use.
Those old memories have long since withered away ; they have no place in this new world fashioned in rationality .
Undoubtedly this place is Real unlike the mirage that he had immersed himself in previously still why does it hurt far more than it should ?
After having being exposed to the taboo his body yearns for the impossible and receives no satisfaction from the monotony that he should prefer ideally.
Really as the saying goes , " After some things are tasted , there's no going back ! "
The Man appears on front of his eyes once more ; his inner turmoil is hidden cleverly behind the mask of stone that he has learned to put on skilfully.
The Man it seems has no spare time to pay attention to His wayward thoughts and doesn't inspect his face too closely.
Reason being the Man's brows are furrowed with an intensity that He had never witnessed before.
" This is it , they have surely come for it ," the Man mumbles ; the fact that he reveals his inward thoughts shows how agitated he is.
The Man hesitates for a long drawn moment as if his thoughts are bickering with each other in an arena that lies deep inside.
At last the Man pulls out an unassuming scroll which is tightly sealed and ceremoniously places in His hand .
" Here , If I don't return at daybreak head as far as you can before you open the seal . All shall be revealed then ."
He accepts the scroll calmly and stares unblinkingly at the Man ; his eyes are just as lifeless as before .
The Man searches for a trace of an emotion in His face ; when he sees none he heaves a sigh full of disappointment.
Momentarily however the Man's status is restored and both of them have returned to their usual selves.
It is going to be a long night this time .
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The meal wasn't as delicious as he expected.
From a distance the viridescent grass that resembled Jade coated with some fresh dew had appeared to be appetising .
Unfortunately though looks can be deceptive as it was in this case ; when he frantically chewed the pieces of grass , the foul taste exploding in his mouth nearly caused him to puke.
As it was his mouth opened up involuntarily and the remaining unprocessed grass still with their slimy coating of fresh saliva spilled out into the ground.
His hand did it's best to reach the next piece but somehow it never could manage to.
His stomach rumbled and growled in response and sweat poured down in torrents wetting his kasaya .
His inner self was agitated and his conviction wavered ; with great difficulty he had chosen to head on this path where his ideals were steadfast , if his senses fell to the assault of hunger the continued journey along this path would be impossible.
Think of something else . Anything else !
He desperately shoved blades of grass into his mouth before it could respond and did his best to distract his mind away from the rancid taste that spread like poison deep inside him.
His line of thought went towards the cryptic message that had prompted him to set off on this absurd journey on the first place ; he had been a youth bubbling with enthusiasm then thinking that the vast world out there was waiting there for him !
On retrospect the him of the past should have been beaten till that misconception was forced out .
An idealist ever since he had begun to walk and talk ; he believed that the world revolved around the teachings of the Dharma , be it his fellow monks in the monastery or the honoured Abbot they who were well versed in the Dharma were surely the paragons of virtue !
Imagine his shock when on that fateful night he saw something he was never supposed to have seen and that naive lad had just to go and blab his mouth .
After that very predictably the world collapsed around him.
He was left burdened with a cross that he had never been ready to bear with only a hazy way that seemed to offer 'salvation' at the end.
And now he had no choice but to head on that path , with the past having crumbled up behind him the only way he could continue to justify his existence was by moving forward until he eventually reaches the end or falls of a cliff or perhaps both.
He fervently shoved the vegetation in his mouth till the earth in front of him was naught but a pit of dirt . He let out a low roar that resembled that of a beast and continued on , uncaring of the sensation of pain that his stomach transmitted to his brain.
Even now the mystical phrase that was the sole purpose of his continued struggle was running around in his head.
In his last moments , the legendary monk Xuanzang was set to have left a message that hadn't been understood till now or perhaps no one had taken the time to decipher it engrossed as they were in 'accumulating virtuous merit' .
"Deep within the Western Paradise , a River flows Swift
Across the other shore lies an Unparalleled Gift ! "
He wouldn't have taken them seriously as well until a coincidental discovery revealed that once upon a time the Abandoned Land Of the Gods was also known as the 'Western Paradise ' that and the fact that the characters for Across the Other Shore could also be read as 'Paramita' , a legendary state of enlightenment of the Dharma was enough for him to gain a sense of direction in his aimless ramblings .
As for what he going to do when he reached ?
He had no idea .
Perhaps seek for a river ?
At this stage there was no use thinking so forward ; all that was important to know is that he had a sense of purpose that allowed him to repose his faith in his beliefs as he had once long ago .
He was allowed to exist !
That was all that he needed to know.
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A tranquil world of snow.
Gentle winds buffeted past and the sullen overcast dome high above was just as distant as it always had been .
A rabbit with fur the same colour as the snow over which it pranced , darted about here and there perhaps in an attempt to forage some food .
Suddenly the peace was abruptly shattered as the earth churned and a mound of snow erupted outwards splattering in every direction.
The terrified rabbit hid behind a protruding rock and observed the strange scene unfolding before it with rapt attention.
A solitary hand stained with the same white as the snow around it quivered for a moment in the air as if it possessed a life of its own .
Bang !
Suddenly the earth surrounding it erupted once more and this time the rest of the body climbed out as well ; dusted with frost and with exposed skin and lips of a bluish hue , the man resembled a frost giant spoken of in the tales of yore.
After his entire body had clambered high above the man turned his head still layered in frost towards the grim sky of which he got a fleeting glance through the drifting veil of mist that obscured it .
Jing Ke clenched and opened his fist till he was sure that the blood was flowing properly and he was in no danger of frostbite .
He reached inside and pulled out a box that had frosted shut , his trembling fingers prised upon the stiff cover in a gauche manner .
As he had thought while the box itself had long fallen prey to the relentless cold the Blue Flower was just as glittering with life as it had been before with no observable change to be seen at all.
There was no way that the 'admission pass' for a mystical land like the Abandoned Land Of The Gods was going to be as simple as carrying a flimsy Blue Flower to the entrance.
No doubt it was the culprit for what happened earlier.
Still there was no harm done ; instead his heart felt more stronger than ever before after a brief period of tempering.
His focus was more sharper than it had been before like a peerless sword that had been sharpened to the point that a mere touch could draw blood.
He was more resolute than ever .
Come what may he was going to grasp his life in his own hand !
