His mind was blank. He looked up at the trees, at the shafts of sunlight filtering through the leaves.
He raised his hand—and it blocked the sun from his face.
He gazed at it. His hand was pale. Healthy‑looking, yet utterly exhausted.
"The sun... is beautiful."
He sighed deeply and slowly closed his eyes. For a few seconds he remained like that, then clenched his fist and sprang to his feet.
Anyone watching would have thought he had made an important decision in life.
But in truth, his mind refused all thought entirely. And he also didn't want to think—he knew, without question, that he was utterly burned out.
Unaware of what lay ahead, he simply walked toward an unknown direction. Was it east? Or north? He didn't know... and frankly didn't care.
Each step he took echoed with the crunch of dry, broken leaves beneath his feet. He leaned on the trees at times, hoping they would help him walk.
"I... am I incapable of change? Or am I just a toy of my emotions? Or of Wuxi? Why does everyone want to devour me? To exploit me?"
"I... I'm exhausted! I just want to return home, to my father, my sister... is that too much? Is that too hard?"
Crack!
A drop of water fell.
Then tears streamed from his eyes, and he felt his strength evaporating. He withdrew his hand from the tree and it fell to his side.
Collapsing to his knees, exhausted, he pressed his palms to his face and began to cry.
"I don't want to go through this! Who cares about strength? Who cares about people? Who cares about power?"
"I just want to live peacefully! Why is that so hard?!"
"Why did this happen to me? I didn't ask for change... didn't ask for cruelty... didn't ask for anything!"
"Why can't I take control of my own life?"
"I lost my father, my home, my sister... and now I'm losing myself... losing myself!!"
Amid the chorus of suffering and his hoarse voice, the air around him filled with sorrow, injustice, hatred.
All the trees that heard Chang‑Yu's lament wished to comfort him, but they recognized their helplessness—they could not speak, and so they stayed silent.
Rustle.
Suddenly, Chang‑Yu stopped sobbing. His hands remained over his face, but his crying ceased.
In one burst, he turned around and shouted, "Who's there?!!"
No one answered, yet he was certain. He felt her—the gaze that pierced even the trees.
"You tried to hide... huh."
With the little strength he had left, he sprinted toward the source of the gaze, like a tiger leaping at prey.
But the irony: he was not the tiger, but the prey.
In an instant the world flipped. His arm was twisted until it broke; he didn't even register his head hitting the ground.
He couldn't scream—he was silent as cold iron constricted his throat.
He lay on the ground, a spear pressing to his neck. Chang‑Yu felt cold sweat down his spine, and warmth in his stomach. His pupils constricted—his gaze filled with fear.
His breathing sped up; he panted heavily. His heart trembled with pounding.
He looked, terrified, at the man standing above him. A young man, around his age or older. Only his eyes stood out: stone-colored, devoid of emotion.
Just one sharp gaze, watching him.
After a few breaths, the young man removed the spear. But Chang‑Yu remained frozen, too afraid to move.
He didn't touch his arm, despite the pain; his mouth remained still, unable to cry out. Then the man turned and walked away.
"I didn't expect much."
"But to be this weak... pathetic."
Chang‑Yu let out a muffled gasp, as if life had been sucked from his chest.
He felt like a thread separated him from death when the young man paused. The man seemed to pull something out.
But Chang‑Yu relaxed when he realized it was a piece of bread.
The man tossed it toward him and said, "Eat, before you die."
The departing figure left a profound impression on Chang‑Yu—he didn't focus on his arm anymore, it was beginning to hurt less.
He believed the man enacted some trick to make him suffer.
He looked calmly at the bread lying on the ground, then at his hand. "Am I really this weak?"
"I couldn't defend myself—and worse, I couldn't even perceive what was done to me."
His eyes swept over the man's footsteps, as if searching for something.
"My stomach... it hurts... I haven't eaten for so long..."
Above all, the hunger gnawed at him from inside. He resisted it—or maybe he barely felt it at first.
"Ahh!"
Suddenly his throat felt like it was burning, his abdomen aflame! Sweat poured from his pores. His stomach ached fiercely!
"The bread!"
Without thinking, he lunged at the bread on the ground.
He attacked it, scooping up dirt along with it. But who cared? He would swallow anything in front of him, even tree bark!
He bit it savagely, like a man who hadn't eaten in weeks. He felt his body slowly returning to a semblance of strength, though hunger still lingered.
He sat down, leaning against a tree, then slowly reflected on his situation.
"Just hunger made me feel like I was dying... I'm pathetic."
He smiled faintly and let out a short, sarcastic laugh.
"I thought I had grown strong and everything—but it seems Wuxi only made me slightly stronger than ordinary humans."
"I just don't understand: why did I have to suffer? Why was I chosen? Wuxi wants me to be cruel... as far as I've seen of what I've passed through."
"But I just... I can't! My feelings toward people... I simply can't forget them, or bury them deeply."
He clenched his jaws, pain flickering across his face.
"I... I don't understand... Does this world only offer two paths? Being weak but with my heart... or being strong by turning it to ashes?"
"For my position..."
"Which one... do I choose...?"
After some time, he exhaled deeply. He looked weary of thought, utterly drained. He picked up the remaining crumbs of bread and ate them, then looked down toward the path the other man had taken, then upward at the sky.
Something was born just now—not confusion, not fear. Something deeper—a small idea.
And though this idea was small and trivial, it set Chang‑Yu's path several steps forward, however few.
He took a breath and closed his eyes. Then let his breath out slowly and reopened them. This time they were different.
"Since I didn't choose this fate myself, I'll toy with it until it leaves me alone!"
"I'll show Wuxi that I am Chang‑Yu. I'm not weak, and my emotions are not a hindrance to the path of strength!"
"I will live because I want to, because I refuse to die!"
"And my starting point... begins with that man!"
---
The moon lit an entire sky, seeming proud of this accomplishment.
It appeared massive this time—perhaps not wanting to appear weaker than the sun.
Its white light was a lullaby, to which the creatures answered.
Preparing for sleep, a deer approached a pond. This place was colder than elsewhere and peaceful too.
It thought no one would come, that it would enjoy a peaceful night under a beautiful moon.
By the pond, the deer quickly drifted into sleep.
As an ordinary creature, it didn't notice the gaze watching it since it entered the pond.
The gaze waited patiently until the deer fell fully asleep—it did not hurry.
Directly toward the deer's head, a shadow lunged swiftly as if returning incense.
"Maah!!"
The deer cried out in panic, causing the shadow to pause momentarily. That moment was enough for the deer to flee.
"Damn, it's leaping away!"
The shadow changed posture, then threw a sharpened stone at the fleeing deer.
The deer looked at the stone in terror—blood spurted from its eye.
It felt death approaching, and in a final effort it ran madly toward the shadow.
It was an unforgettable sight: a victim walking toward its killer, fueled by blood. Walking toward its fate, not running from it.
The deer showed incomparable courage—but in the shadow's eyes, it was sheer foolishness.
A mere mouse running in its cage. From the start, there had never been hope for this deer.
When the shadow got close, it leapt high onto the deer and, with a graceful swing, severed its head from its body.
It did not fall—but went flying like a rag in the wind, carrying a shiver of fear and shock.
Blood spouted like a small fountain, staining the cold earth with warm red.
The still pond became a bloody basin. She (the gaze) knew, knew the killer was before her, washing its victim's body in her water. But what could she do? Her only choice was to hold her breath and obey.
On the water's surface, the massive moon was reflected—and beside it appeared something blurred: a familiar face. It was Chang‑Yu, eyes different from how they used to be.
After killing the deer, it was time to clean it. It had been a long while since he had eaten—he was indeed starving.
His hands, though trembling, moved with steadiness. He left no effort undone, swiftly finishing the cleaning. Then he lit a fire and placed the meat on it.
He sat beside the flames, watching and listening to the crackle of burning wood.
The fire's reflection danced in Chang‑Yu's eyes as it flared—but he paid it no mind; his mind was busy.
"Now... how am I supposed to find him? I followed his tracks, but they vanished after a stretch of walking."
"Maybe I should give up searching and head east, as Wuxi said?"
"But I don't know where east is..."
"If... I'll keep searching for that person for a few days. If I don't find him, I'll head wherever and ask anyone I meet."
After finishing that thread of thought, he continued staring at the fire—it continued reflecting in his eyes. As if two fires were meeting: wood fire and heart fire.
"I miss my home..."
"No! Forget that longing, Chang‑Yu. You will exert every effort to find your sister, and you will never relent. Do not let emotions drag you down again—you will never forget them, but you will never let them control you!"
When he felt he was about to drown in sorrow, he extended his finger and placed it into the flames.
The fire felt his finger—and the flame lashed out, burning it. But Chang‑Yu pulled it back instantly! Then he immersed it in the pond's water.
He felt as if his finger might melt—it was painful and scaldingly sharp indeed.
Only when the pain subsided did he breathe out and say, "Pain truly is a good friend—it always banishes my feelings for me."
"Speaking of pain... what did you feel then? Did you want to kill him? Or did you yearn to become him...?"
Crack!
Chang‑Yu turned his head instantly toward the fire. It was about to burn the wood holding the meat!
He ran toward it and tried to extinguish it with dirt; thankfully, the meat did not burn.
But it was now completely grilled—so Chang‑Yu didn't feel too bad about it. He grabbed the meat and bit into it; he flinched for an instant, then kept going—this time tearing at it savagely!
As if a beggar who hadn't eaten for a month, Chang‑Yu continued his meal with ferocious urgency.
When he finished eating, he finally felt some relief. Then he looked at the hand that had killed the deer and said, "Will this hand... continue killing just to let me live...?"