Chapter 116: Breaking Jade II (Patreon)

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He is back in Eastern Port City.

Liu Jin had been expecting to see memories from a distant past. Instead, he finds himself in his Master’s old room back at the clinic in all its overwhelming familiarity. Even the sunbeams that come in through the window evoke feelings within him. The warmth on his hands as he writes is unmistakably the warmth of Eastern Port City.

No, not his hands.

Master’s hands.

“You are hopelessly predictable.”

Liu Jin feels his lips forming the words, but it is not his voice that speaks, nor is it his mouth that moves. It is his Master’s mouth and his Master’s voice. This is nothing more than a memory he is experiencing from Master’s perspective.

However, those words just now were undoubtedly for him.

How?

“Foolish disciple of mine. No, I cannot hear you. I am nothing more than the memory of a dead man. It is impossible for us to have a conversation.”

Liu Jin blinks. At least, he thinks he does. No matter what Master says, he is clearly replying to his thoughts.

“If you think I can listen to you, that is only a sign of how predictable you are. I did not tell you in which order you should watch my memories, yet you picked the rightmost jade first. Why?”

Why?

There had not been any thought to it. Liu Jin had just grabbed it.

“You may not realize this, but you enjoy following patterns. You prize control and safety in doing things. Once someone has gotten to know you, a much harder feat than you may realize, it is easy to predict your movements,” Master says as he keeps writing.

“Allow me to make another guess. There are some who, upon receiving my memories, would not be able to help themselves. It is no exaggeration to say people have killed over my secrets, yet you surely waited an unreasonable amount of time to see this memory. At least one year has passed. Am I wrong?”

Embarrassment wells within Liu Jin. He wants to hide his face, yet he has no face to hide.

Old Jiang sighs.

“Oh, foolish disciple of mine, why do you feel embarrassed?”

Liu Jin blinks. Why wouldn’t he feel embarrassed? Surely, that had been a rebuke? It most certainly felt like one.

“If you are alive to hear my words, that means that you have found a way to push forward with all your flaws. No, in the first place, what is a flaw? Have you ever considered that?”

A flaw is a flaw. The answer comes to Liu Jin’s mind right away, but he finds it wanting.

A flaw is an undesirable conduct or habit.

That sounds better.

“A flaw is that which prevents you from reaching your goals,” Old Jiang says instead. “Or, to put it another way, a flaw is only a flaw when it prevents you from achieving something you want. Virtue is not obligated to make you rise. Vice is not fated to be your doom. If your so-called flaws do not keep you from your goals, how can they be called flaws? Fortune favors the bold, and Heaven punishes recklessness. What exactly is the difference between the two? The result. That and nothing else. “

Master, that is twisted.

Those are the words Liu Jin wants to say.

And yet, there is something in them that rings true. After all, has what Liu Jin seen of the world somehow disproven his Master?

Those who stand at the top are by no means drowning in virtue.

“If you are alive and well, that means you are doing something right, disciple of mine. Rather than being ashamed of your inadequacies, consider yourself and your goals carefully. Only then do you have the right to decide what to keep and what to discard.”

He pauses for a moment, giving Liu Jin time to absorb his words.

“But I suppose you have not come here for the musings of an old man. You came to me for knowledge of a more practical sort. Have you paid any attention to what I am writing? Do not bother answering. You have most certainly not.”

What he is writing? What does that…?

Liu Jin gasps.

At least, he tries to. It is an odd feeling, wanting to do something but lacking a body to control. Still, there is little time to ponder that. All of Liu Jin’s attention is now focused on the words his Master has been writing.

These words… this book… they are instructions.

He is writing a manual.

“Have you finally begun to understand? Perhaps, you do not remember, but this Old Jiang spent many days writing in his room while you worked in the clinic.”

Liu Jin does remember something like that, but barely. So much time has passed since then.

“Tell me something.” Old Jiang suddenly closes the book. “Where do you think I placed this book?”

It would have to be in Eastern Port City, wouldn’t it? That means it likely burned when the city did. The thought is most definitely a bitter one.

“Wrong.”

Huh?

“You have the book. Before you ask, it is not in the spatial pouch I left you. I placed it in the same place where Nine-Headed Snake God left you his little gift.”

What is he talking about? Does he mean Nine-Headed Snake God’s Veins?

“Child, originally, I came from Amaranth. It may be that I still have family there. Should you keep proving yourself to be as unexpected as you have been so far, you may find yourself meeting them. In that event, do give that to them...Should you grow strong enough, you will realize where it is. Until such a time happens, do not die.”

The words come to his mind unbidden, but he has no time to reflect on them as his Master keeps talking.

“To be honest, I am glad you started with this memory, Little Jin.” Old Jiang snorts. “Well, perhaps you are not so little now. You can be quite stubborn. Regardless, consider this your first task. Find this book. When you find it, you will also find Nine-Headed Snake God’s gift. Although I cannot speak of how much use his gift will be for you. If nothing else, you need to find it if you ever intend on delivering it.”

He takes a deep breath.

“It is an odd thing, talking to you like this. From my perspective, you are focusing on that silly tournament. From yours, how long have I been dead, I wonder? Quite morbid, isn’t it?”

Old Jiang lets out a soft laugh and closes his eyes.

“Master, who are you speaking with?”

Liu Jin's world stops.

Black hair and red eyes that are so much like his. A face that is stern, yet with kindness underneath it. A voice that never fails to warm his heart.

It is his father.

His father has just entered Old Jiang’s room

“I am merely leaving a message for your son.”

“A message?” His father blinks. “Ah, memory jades, I see.”

“Well,” Old Jiang prompts. “Is there anything you wish to say to your son years from now?”

His father smiles sadly and shakes his head. “No, I cannot think of anything.”

“Oh?” Old Jiang raises an eyebrow. “Surely, there must be something.”

“Perhaps, but… by the time he sees this memory, I will most assuredly have told him of my past. I cannot imagine my son would want advice from a man such as myself.”

No! That is not true! That is not true at all!

“But…”

“But?” Old Jiang prompts, motioning him to go on.

“If I could say something to him… I would like to tell him that I love him, that I believe in him, and that I know he will prevail over all obstacles.”

“Ho. Look at you, foolish disciple.” Old Jiang shakes his head and laughs. “It seems you have become quite the proud father.”

“The proudest.”

In his father’s voice, there is nothing but warm sincerity.

~~~

There are no sobs.

There are no words.

There are just tears which fall to the floor one after another

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