CG Chapter 146: Sleep, little soldier
Life is in and of itself just suffering; to live is to choose to continue going through pain.
To some people, this choice of continuing to go through this cruel fate is one of the dumbest and most irrational decisions a human can make.
Blessed be those who suffer, for life is but the grand joke of fate…
As Aretius passed through the town's streets, he outwardly looked like any other old man you wouldn't give a second glance to. Internally, his mind was racing, analyzing, and trying to grasp the cause and effect of how and why the Xiao Xian Butcher became a butcher.
The first question that came to his mind was, 'Why only children?'
'Was it out of benefits? No, that wouldn't make sense, since he only targeted children with no wealth to speak of, and robbing stores would have been a much easier job.'
The chain of incidents had consecutively taken place in lower-area districts with an overall poorer population.
A second question came to his mind. He thought that since there were no obvious material benefits other than the odd missing hearts, it might not be an act of reason but rather emotion.
A thought crossed his mind, and sure enough, at the end of the booklet, Qi Hao had included a page on the overall situation of the town, and a part of it talked about the Butcher, his victim choices, and even a drawing of one of the children.
After Aretius gave that drawing a deeper look, he noticed that despite the twisted chest area where the heart was missing, the face and other parts of the child were almost untouched.
Seeing this, he let a subtle smile appear on his face for a second before it disappeared.
'I can't be sure just yet, but it's still worth giving it a shot.'
The day shifted. The sun rose and returned to slumber again as Aretius made his preparations.
In the heart of the red-light district, behind one of the many brothels that fill this town, news spread of a certain child slave being beaten nearly to death by his owner, with both of his legs broken.
However, it wasn't the beating that truly made the eyes of the people shift but the fact that the owner of that brothel was known to be a kind old lady who treated most of her girls in a relatively good manner. At least, as good as such people can get.
In the darkness of the abandoned back alleys of one such brothel, Pang Fu, with his plump, chubby cheeks and once smooth skin, now bruised and bloody, lay sprawled.
The warmth of his bruises against the cold ground gave the boy a feeling of the indifference of the world.
He didn't know what mistake he had made.
Still, his kindhearted owner's personality had shifted without any good reason.
She kicked him out for simply breaking one of her cheap vases, but what made him feel even more resentful was that it wasn't his fault but the fault of an old man who bumped into him.
The old man only paid a single silver coin for the vase, but the boy seemed to take even more of the blame.
So, with no other choice, the boy cried. What is even more painful than crying is knowing that no one can hear your cries of pain. No, there was something worse. It was believing that even if they heard your cries, your pain, and your sorrows, they wouldn't care.
However, the child's tears didn't go unheard, and despite how much he wanted someone to hear, the person in particular was more of a curse than a blessing.
Aretius sat indifferent to the sight in front of him, unmoving, as he patiently waited for the show to start and the bloodshed to begin.
He stayed silent, becoming akin to the oriole, waiting until the mantis had its fill of the cicada and until its mind became dull from the hunt.
Time passed, and the boy thought that he would stay here until his final hour, but he wasn't the only one waiting, because in the shadows, Aretius furrowed his brows, wondering if his idea was wrong.
Still, he didn't regret it, as he had only wasted a couple of worthless silver coins and a single night.
Even after thinking that the mantis wouldn't come for its prey, he still decided to watch this act until the end.
Tick-Tock!
Tick-Tock!
Tick-Tock!
Time passed, and the long, quiet alley felt more suffocating than ever, as if even the air had grown still.
By this time, even the boy's cries had become quiet, as he was too numb from all the pain.
Yet, when the moon reached its zenith, the sound of a sad and dark lullaby played in the lonely night.
"Oh, young boy, oh, little man, hush now,
May Old Meng's soup warm your lonely soul.
Sleep, little soldier,
Sleep, little soldier,
Night has come; be still now, my child.
Let your tired mind find eternal bliss.
Oh, little man, may your suffering be forgotten.
Hush, little one, and march joyously through the Yellow Springs."
The middle-aged man stood before the boy, looking at him from above with pity, with his shadow becoming part of the alley.
"Sigh! We wake into this world while suffering; our bodies tell us from the very first second we see this corrupt world that we should not have been born. Yet, what do we do? Do we listen? No. We continue to live a sad and pathetic life, only to return to the very first time, lonely, scared, and crying in fear of leaving this world."