1 Prologue (1)
"What do you want to be?" a middle-aged man's voice sounded out.
"A scholar. I'm going to take the imperial examinations when I grow older and..." a child spoke out.
"Scholar? Well, I suppose it cannot be helped if your physique is like that." the middle-aged man sighed.
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A young man was sitting down before a low table, in rows along with other males.
"Wei Jing. Age 21. Third son of General Wei, and a nameless concubine, born in the Year 118."
A man in examiner robes rolled up the scroll of paper.
"Pass."
Wei Jing smiled a graceful smile and nodded, with much more joy in the inside.
The other man in robes smiled a respectful smile, and bowed deeply, walking over to the man sitting to the right of Wei Jing.
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"Minister Wei, please lower the taxes on the Henan Region!"
"Minister Wei, the peasants in the south are rebelling!"
"Minister Wei-!"
"Minister Wei-!"
A man, looking to be around the age of 25, sat before a table, with many papers stacked on it. Although he looked tired, his grace was impeccable. Around him crowded middle-aged and old robed men with papers, drowning out others' voices and arguing.
"Silence." he said.
The men before him kept arguing, not having heard him.
"Silence!" he said, louder.
The room instantly quieted down.
"Place your papers on the desk and leave." he directed.
The arguing men did so and, in lines, bowed before the young man, and left through the exit. Only when the last of them had all left did Wei Jing take out an inkstone and start grinding it into ink, slowly, smoothly, never losing his elegant aura. As he finished, he took out his brush and paper, and with soft strokes, began copying the Spring and Autumn Annals from his memory. Sunlight streamed in from the papered windows, lighting up the room and warming Wei Jing's body.
He wrote in a poised an elegant manner, smiling lightly as he did.
Dong Dong Dong
Fists met the doors.
"Servant Wu. I have lunch." an old voice came from behind the doors.
"Come in," said Wei Jing, not lifting his eyes from the calligraphy paper. He heard the door opening, and footsteps nearing him.
As the footsteps neared, closer and closer, Wei Jing looked up. His elderly servant, who had served him from his childhood came into his sight. He did not have lunch with him.
Composed, Wei Jing inquired. "Where is lunch?"
His servant neared closer, and Wei Jing noticed his hands behind his back.
"Old Wu? What are you doing?" he asked. The servant walked to his side and paused, taking his hands from behind his back. The sunlight hit the item, and it glinted silver. "A knife? Old Wu, what is it for?" he inquired.
The servant chuckled. Quick as a flash, he raised his arms up, plunging the knife towards him. Wei Jing's eyes widened. "Guards!" he yelled, raising his arms in front of him in defense and sliding his seat backwards, falling. Why did the guards not apprehend him, even if he was a servant? A knife hidden so blatantly behind his back...
Schlk
The knife slide cleanly into his chest and Wei Jing coughed up blood. He held his hands before his chest, gasping. "Stop... stop..."
"This is much too easy, is this really the son of General Wei? Even the guards were terrible, dying before a kitchen knife, hilarious." the servant spoke. He looked at the knife, smiling.
"Why... Old... Wu..." Wei Jing coughed out his words along with blood.
"How naive." The servant muttered. He raised his knife again, stabbing into Wei Jing's neck this time.
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Wei Jing woke up, gasping, to a throbbing pain on his forehead. What happened? Why really did the servant kill the guy who he got this memory from?
He looked around, seeing his surroundings again. It was a regular, modern room, and very clean and well-furbished. He closed his eyes, recalling how he got here.
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"Fuck! That kid's stealing food. Catch him! If you don't get him, I'll---" the man's rough voice was drowned out by the cold wind rushing past Wei Jing's face. He could feel the snow falling against his face as he dodged the grown men, reaching their arms around to catch him.
"Mmmph!" he forcefully swallowed the rest of the food stored in his cheeks and stuffed some more in his mouth. He was almost out of the alley where the gang resided. Suddenly, he felt a force pulling him back by the collar of his shirt and felt his neck being cut into. "Ggk." he choked on the food that he had just swallowed, and spit it out.
"Now, see, that wasn't so hard. If even our gopher can catch him, why can't you guys?" a man huffing and puffing, stopped before him. The rest of the people chasing slowed down. It was the boss, a tall, burly man who had chubby cheeks. "Alright, alright." he said, as the rest of the gang finally arrived. "Beat him up a little bit and kick him out."
The man who pulled him back dropped him on the ground again, and Wei Jing fell down, gacking. He looked back and glared at the man who caught him, not saying a single thing.
'If I ever see that guy again, I'm going to beat him up.' he thought.
In an enclosed alley, a bunch of men kicked a little boy around before leaving him there in the snow.
