The Sorrowmender

Chapter 80 – We listen to Mister

Cold Peak Ridge, a few miles from the deserted temple.

Under the moonlight, a bonfire crackled, swaying in the autumn night breeze.

Eight people sat around the fire, some staring at the flames, others adding wood, or lowering their heads in silence.

A scene of contrasts, one still and one moving, one rising and one sinking, forming a stark contrast.

"Boss Ma, do you think that Mister is really an immortal?" someone broke the silence, speaking first.

"I don't know, but he's really knowledgeable. I can't understand a word he says," someone quickly replied.

"As if I could understand," another chimed in.

But the leader, Boss Ma, remained silent, staring into the fire as if deep in thought.

The seven followers looked at him, momentarily losing their backbone, their eyes devoid of light, as Xu Qingzhou's words had woken them up.

Yet they didn't know what to do next. Should they continue robbing? The answer was unclear.

"Boss Ma, say something. What should we do next?"

Boss Ma snapped back to reality, scanning his followers with a serious look. "Do you think what Mister said is right?"

The group was bewildered, looking at each other, then nodding in agreement.

"I think it's right. It spoke to my heart, even though I didn't understand some of it."

"Me too, like that phrase, 'Do not impose on others what you do not desire for yourself.' I didn't get it."

Seeing everyone express their opinions, Boss Ma continued.

"Since you all think Mister is right, let's follow his advice, shall we?"

Faced with the question, the group hesitated for a moment but eventually responded.

"I have no objections."

"Neither do I."

"But if we don't rob, what else can we do?" someone weakly asked.

Only to receive a smack on the head from Boss Ma.

"Who said we're not robbing anymore?"

The seven were dumbfounded, staring at their leader. Didn't he just say to follow Mister's advice? Now he's changing his mind.

"Still robbing? Not following Mister's advice?" someone asked.

Boss Ma glared at him, frustrated, then stood up and looked at everyone.

"Why wouldn't we follow Mister's advice? Don't you remember the deepest meaning of what he said?"

The group remained puzzled, with one person muttering softly.

"I think everything Mister said was profound."

Boss Ma, however, was unfazed, his expression turning more serious. He mimicked Xu Qingzhou's tone:

"Mister said, 'The strong wield their blades against the stronger, the weak against the weaker.'"

"Mister also said, 'We are the weak, so what does Mister mean?'"

"What does he mean?"

The group shook their heads in confusion, their heads bobbing like rattles.

Boss Ma declared, "Mister means for us to become strong, to rob the rich, not the poor like us. To stand against those who oppress us, to fight them to the end. What's that phrase... rob the rich to help the poor, uphold justice, understand?"

The group suddenly realized.

"Oh! So that's what it means."

"I get it now, big brother."

"Let's go, I'll take you to join Black Wind Village. The chieftain there has always been a hero who robs the rich to help the poor. We'll follow him and surely succeed."

"Alright, we'll follow you, big brother."

"I'm coming too."

Boss Ma laughed heartily, "Not bad, as expected of my good brothers. Don't worry, we've been enlightened by someone as wise as Mister, we'll achieve great things."

The group was full of fighting spirit, shaking off their earlier gloom. Only one young bandit smiled wryly, muttering softly.

"Mister said, 'Do not impose on others what you do not desire for yourself,' and you all didn't mention it at all."

...

The stars and moon shone brightly, the Milky Way stretched across the sky, all was silent, the sound of the wind in the trees.

Outside the deserted temple, on the long steps, Jian Xiaoshu sat alone, looking up at the bright moon, holding a white handkerchief in his hand.

The handkerchief was pure white, gleaming in the moonlight, clearly of high quality, contrasting sharply with his patched scholar's robe.

However, the pair of mandarin ducks embroidered on it matched perfectly, especially with the deep longing in the scholar's eyes, adding a unique charm.

Xu Qingzhou appeared beside him at some point, softly speaking.

"Brother Jian, are you missing someone dear?"

The sudden words startled the young man, who instinctively hid the handkerchief in his palm, turning to see Xu Qingzhou at that moment.

He instinctively wanted to stand up—

"Brother Xu."

Xu Qingzhou placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling gently, watching the young man's awkward attempt to cover up, and said softly:

"Sit and chat."

With that, he sat on the stone steps, looking up at the bright moon, his face full of contentment.

Jian Xiaoshu glanced sideways at the young man, sitting up straighter, feeling a bit different from before, much more reserved.

"Looking up at the silent moon, thinking of someone unknown."

Xu Qingzhou recited calmly, looking at Jian Xiaoshu, "I wonder if Brother Jian's beloved is also looking at the moon in the sky?"

Jian Xiaoshu, his thoughts exposed, felt a bit uneasy, but Xu Qingzhou's words stirred ripples in his heart.

His mouth turned down slightly, tinged with bitterness, "Brother Xu, you're joking. But that poem you just recited is wonderful. Who wrote it? I've never read it before."

Xu Qingzhou gazed at him, asking playfully, "Why doesn't Brother Jian think that I wrote it myself?"

Hearing this, Jian Xiaoshu first put away the handkerchief, then looked at Xu Qingzhou, bowing respectfully.

"Looking up at the silent moon, thinking of someone unknown, speaks of longings and separation."

"It's not that I underestimate Brother Xu's literary talent, but Brother Xu's eyes are clear, living transparently, with a charming demeanor. I see no trace of longing sorrow."

"With such a mindset, Brother Xu surely couldn't have written such a melancholic poem."

He finished, bowing again, respectfully saying, "Of course, this is just my humble opinion. If there's anything wrong, I hope Brother Xu won't mind."

Xu Qingzhou paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, gazing at the young scholar, feeling a slight touch in his heart. He hadn't expected the scholar to be so perceptive, deducing that the poem wasn't his own.

Truly impressive.

Though his attempt to impress had failed, he wasn't discouraged at all, instead becoming more interested.

"Brother Jian truly makes me see you in a new light. Indeed, this poem isn't mine; it's borrowed. As for who wrote it, I don't remember."

"Probably someone like Brother Jian, a romantic soul."

Jian Xiaoshu smiled awkwardly, saying nothing more.

Xu Qingzhou took out a flask of wine, taking a sip.

"Ah—" The strong liquor burned his throat. He wiped his lips with his sleeve and offered it.

"Brother Jian, have a sip..."