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The old man sighed and stretched his bony arms, trying to relieve the pain in his elbows as well as the numbness that had settled in his right hand. He stood up slowly from his brown leather desk chair, closed his last leather-bound book and then made his way out of the study. As he reached the tall wooden door, he looked back and sighed once again. The study had been a permanent part of his life, owned by his father and his grand-father before him, it had seen three generations of mistakes and successes. Most of the books that had been there during his childhood had been sold by his ungrateful children only to be replaced by manuals bought during the dozen college and university years that they had gone through. Thinking about his children, the old man thought that it had been a long time since he'd last seen them. He shook his head and thought that it was better like that; His son was too busy with his company while his daughter had married a Rich Baroness from the Netherlands and now lived too far away to come back home... It was at least better for him to keep telling himself that, though he knows deep in his heart that his children just never wanted to talk to their coward of a father.

After a final sigh filled with self-deprecation, he finally left the room, promising himself to never let anyone else open the doors of the study before his death. A few weeks passed by as slowly as they could, bringing the old man much solitude and sadness. The elder woke up in the middle of the night on a Monday, suddenly dreading his usual loneliness. He stood up and got dressed as quickly as his bad back and used bones could allow him. Without thinking about the snow or the cold, he ran outside of his empty home, forgetting to bring a jacket or to wear proper shoes. It had started snowing while he walked in the white streets. He looked around, trying to find a store that could still be open. After stumbling along the streets in the freezing weather for half an hour, he arrived at a store that wasn't closed and stopped dazedly. The old man strolled inside the shop and although he could not rest his poor heart, he looked around with his clouded vision; He had gone into a Bookshop! Someone Coughed from behind the front desk to get the old man's attention.

It was a handsome middle aged man. The man's long hair was tied in a low ponytail, hanging over his right shoulder. The old man thought that perhaps the bookshop had actually been closing and the younger man might tell him to leave. Before the Handsome man could speak, the elder bowed and talked quietly with difficulty. "This old man is only seeking shelter from the cold, forgive this one for asking but...is the library open?" The middle aged man smiled softly and motioned for the old man to walk up to his desk. "Esteemed customer, no need to apologize. The answer to your question is as follows : this humble man's shop is open to whoever might need it. What can this one help you with?" the younger man said with a gentle smile. The elder felt his heart beat faster as he struggled to give a coherent answer. After a few minutes of deliberation, He gave his most precious wish.

"I want to write a story I didn't get to tell in the past."

While he was speaking, the old man was led to the back of the library and sat down on a chair, his back straighter than it should be. The younger man listened to his request and thought deeply on what he could do. After deliberating with himself, the shop owner smiled once again and gave him a paper bound book. "Esteemed customer has had a long life and although this one cannot help you much, I can gift you a book. This book seems to have been used but it's pages are actually blank, waiting to be filled with thoughts and hopes. Although it is not much, it should be big enough to write a lifetime inside. Do not worry about how long it takes to start it, this shop is open all night and elder can leave once the sun is up if he wishes." The old man thanked him and opened the book on it's very first page.

The old man's eyes widened and he looked at the small writing that should not have been there. He frowned slightly and shot a look at where the Bookeeper had previously sat only to be met with an empty chair and the sounds of receding footsteps. It seems like the man had done it on purpose and thus the elder sighed. His eyes shifted back to the text, examining it with attention. The calligraphy was clean and small but had spots of ink as if the author of the text had used a traditional brush instead of a modern pencil. He decided to read the text before giving the book back to the shop owner. In slightly bigger lettering, the title was placed at the top of the yellowed page, contrasting with the smaller text below it.

" The Path of Vengeance " the ink for the name of the author had run and was now unreadable.

" Qiang Bao was a well known Blacksmith from the deepest corner of Eternal Bamboo Realm.

He was very proud of his Wife and sons, so proud that he would always compare them to the Deities of Beauty and Intelligence: Li Mei and Li Min .

These two Deities happened to be Twins Who despised Humans and liked to look down on everyone, including other Deities they would deem unworthy of them.

After years of bragging, Qiang Bao had gotten the very much unwanted attention from Li Min and Li Mei. Seeing as he was so proud of his family, Li Min hatched a plan to bring despair to the Blacksmith, resulting in the complete annihilation of his small village.

In despair, Qiang Bao vowed to reach the Heavens and exact his final revenge."

The old man was interested enough in the concept of the original Author and thus decided to not only keep the book but to finish writing it. He thought to himself with a bit of ridicule that as soon as the book would be complete, he would leave this life willingly, without fighting or making a ripple in the cosmic web of the Deities. The rest of the night passed calmly and soon the sun came up. The old man had racked his brains out trying to write a semblance of chapter, as much as his sleep deprived mind would allow. He stood up and walked to the front of the Bookshop, the book clasped tightly in his small and skeletal hands. The Bookeeper was sitting behind the front desk, reading a thick Black leather book. As the elder approached, the handsome bookeeper put down the book he was reading and smiled to him. "Has our esteemed costumer written to his heart's satisfaction?" the old man nodded. "This elder has indeed written satisfactorily. Might this one ask for the name of this young man?" The younger man nodded. "This humble shopkeeper is named Lang Zhi ." As the elder left he turned around, a smile spreading across his weathered face and stars in his eyes. "This old one is Da Fang. I believe we will meet again in the future."

As Da Fang left his Shop, Lang Zhi sighed dejectedly. He closed shop and shed his mortal form. His appearance was that of a white Dove, untainted by humanity and yet his heart beat the same rhythm as his brethren's. His mother was one of the daughters of the Jade Emperor while his father was a mortal sheepherder. Although his parents had many children, Lang Zhi was the last one still alive to this day. His brothers and sisters all produced offsprings with normal humans and hundreds of years down the line, only his powers remained untouched by the passing of time. His parents were separated by the Jade Emperor when the God had discovered their relationship and forbade his Father from ever ascending whilst his mother was locked away in the heavens. Although the Jade emperor's decision might have seemed heartless, he was not an unfair god and agreed to grant a single wish made by the children of his Daughter once a year. As the last of His Grandchildren, Lang Zhi had yet to make a wish that year. He felt pity towards Old Man Da Fang and gave up his wish to him in the shape of that paper bound book. As long as his heart remained focused on his wish, it would be granted under certain conditions.

The Handsome Immortal was invisible to humans and as he walked in the city, he followed the scent of blood left behind by the old man. He had thought it strange at first when the stench wafted into his shop during the night, soon followed by an elder whom seemed on the verge of passing out but he still understood that Da Fang's death was near and he offered him a place to rest before it could catch up to him. He followed the smell until he arrived at an intersection in the middle of the city. The stench became unbearable as he observed the man being pushed around by a group of Delinquents. Lang Zhi's heart ached as he watched for he was not allowed to help humans in his Immortal form outside of his small shop. All he could do was pray for Da Fang to be safe all the while knowing in his heart that the old man would die here. He observed from afar, his eyes overflowing with sadness.

Da Fang was being pushed around by a group of delinquents that often hung out in this section of the city. He had been bullied quite often by this same exact gang, wondering what he was thinking when he gave them the money he'd been carrying a few months prior. When they had seen how much cash he had in his hands, they must've thought that the old man was rich and thus began to regularly extort money from him. Yet another mistake he should have avoided but ran head first in it instead. On his way back from the book shop, he had tried to avoid them by hiding in the crowd but soon enough, Da Fang was spotted and they immediately surrounded him. He tried explaining to them that he no longer had any money to spare and that he only had his house left but they would not listen to reason. It was as if they had been possessed by a devil of greed. They pushed him to each other, laughing and swearing. As he finally saw the perfect opportunity to escape, he leapt right past the leader of the small gang and ran as fast as his old body could let him. He was about to cross the Street when a truck drove up to where he was suddenly. He felt extreme pain and for an instant that seemed to last forever, he saw Lang Zhi's Immortal form looking at him with immense sadness, as well as The black auras of the Hooligans, standing there with their mouths agape. The last thing he saw was the driverless Truck that had hit him seconds ago. He finally landed six meters away from the original impact. All he could hear were the cries of the passersby, someone calling an ambulance and his own ragged breathing. His vision faded away quickly and soon he was surrounded by darkness and silence.

He tried looking around but either he couldn't move or he didn't have a physical body. Panicked, he kept repeating over and over again that he couldn't be dead, that it was a misunderstanding and that he was probably having a nightmare. Da Fang was about to repeat for the tenth time that he would wake up in the morning in his warm bed, when a loud but calm voice resounded in the emptiness. 

"What is your wish, Human?" Startled, the elder whom had been talking suddenly shut up, frightened. After a few minutes of silence, the voice repeated the same question, seemingly unperturbed. 

Da Fang tried a few times to answer but he couldn't get his voice to cooperate with his brain. The voice started to sound annoyed at him. 

"Human, if you do not wish for anything then Laozi will send you onto the reincarnation path!" 

Hearing this, the old man made up his mind, although he doubted anything would happen "My wish is to finish writing this story. Can Deity allow this?" The voice snickered "Obviously Laozi can, otherwise, why would this venerable one offer you a wish." Da Fang nodded and as he was about to say something, a brilliant white light filled his sight.

Da Fang felt suffocated as his lungs, mouth and nostrils filled with cold water. He tried swimming towards the sunlight but soon realized that he had forgotten how.  After what seemed like an eternity of suffering, he stopped struggling. His vision went dark as his nearly lifeless body floated to the surface of the lake. Da Fang couldn't help but think that the Deity had lied.

How was he supposed to write if he drowned as soon as he woke up?!