Chapter 176: 270 chapters, in another place of the water

270 chapters, in another place of the water

In another place of the water

――Liu Guozong Spring Diary, eighty-three

(a), By the water: on the solitary island where the misty waves are vague――

In the latter half of spring night, I came to a solitary island; this solitary island is in another place of the water.

On the island there is absolutely no human habitation, utterly devoid of life.

Around the island, mist and haze are vague. No stars are seen, nor sun or moon.

Is this daytime or night? Here, it is neither daytime nor night.

Is this heaven or hell? Here, it is neither heaven nor hell. Is it heaven, yet no angels are seen? Is it hell, yet why is there no trace of devils?

At this moment, I most fear seeing an angel, and I am even more afraid of encountering a devil. Seeing an angel, I know I have done little good in the world, my qualifications insufficient; encountering a devil, I fear being cast into hell by them, for I have harbored many wicked thoughts in my heart.

On the island, mist and waves remain vague; in hesitation and wandering, I seem to see a large group of children playing in the mirage. They run to and fro, with no one supervising them (except me), or rather, they fear being supervised, just like my childhood self: fond of ease and freedom, unrestrained, like a small bird freely soaring in the sky.

At this time, I stand at the edge of the island's cliff, watching for angels? watching for devils? watching for children? or watching for myself?

What exactly I am watching, even I cannot say clearly.

At this moment, my true duty should be to watch over the children; I should not say it is watching, but rather visiting.

If that child runs to the cliff edge where I stand, I will stop them and shout loudly: Whose child is this, with no discipline, only thinking of going out to work for hard money, blinded by money, not disciplining their own children, letting them run wild across the vast sky and sea—isn't that too chaotic? To only feed but not raise, isn't that worse than livestock?

Have all these damned things gone into the money-eyed?

These money‑penetrating damned things refer to myself. Therefore, I am constantly thinking day and night: money, money, money……

Or lonely, lonely, lonely……

Or wrong, wrong, wrong……

Is all this because of the evil of money and the thinness of human affection?

…………………………………?

Who am I? Dare I speak like this? Where do I come from? Where am I going? Where is my current position?

Who whispers in my ear: "The night is deep, for those whose hearts' doors are open—a wandering traveler, the god of thought, in sleep has arrived at a certain place. Do not ask me where I come from, nor where I am going; my homeland lies far away. Why do I wander, wandering in a foreign land?"

Are you because of money? Or because of fame? Or because of longing in dreams? Or do you have some other aim, because far away there is a lovely maiden?

Please do not forget: your heavenly duty is to watch.

Another voice loudly demands of me: "Where do you come from, savage, solitary soul‑wanderer, prepare to go to hell! Or wake up! Even if you go to hell, no one will be grateful to you, pity you, or remember you! Hurry awake, go back!"

(b), One must never marry Pan Jinlian……

In the latter half of spring night, birds do not sing, the night grows deeper, no moon, stars grow brighter. In a turn of the face, yesterday has passed; in another turn, youth has become worn and faded……

Or to say, after waking from a dream, I am again a new self.

Yesterday's self has already become "plump greens, thin reds".

The river water continues to rush noisily, as Master once said: "The departed flow on like this!" Yesterday's self has already run along with the river water.

Is it a pity? Do we miss it? Do we cherish it? Do we strive? The young should strive more; the old will have no regrets.

Without effort, even a mouthful of food cannot be scraped together to eat.

Yes, the most important thing is still to eat.

One is to eat, two is to wear clothes, three is to have a house, four is to find a wife—preferably pretty, somewhat cultivated, kind; absolutely avoid meeting Pan Jinlian; five is to……

This person's worst malady is only one: greed! Once greedy, then **. Of course, all animals are greedy. Pigs greedily eat and sleep; foxes greedily play slick and deceitful; even tiny insects know greed.

Regarding the greed of tiny insects, the Tang people observed it long ago and recorded it clearly: On a certain mountain, there is a tiny insect that became a big chief in the ant kingdom, considering itself the Laozi of the world. Thus it dared to greedily hoard. In the end, the wealth it amassed was truly too much; its villa was built like the Afang Palace, its wife as beautiful as Pan Jinlian, both bright and dark, with several kept lovers, riding in turns a BMW and an Audi; consequently, this greed‑bred tiny insect, the Tang people said, carried too much burden and died of exhaustion.

What a pity, the blessings were never fully enjoyed.

How boring the Tang people are! Observing the fate of a tiny insect! Why not observe society, observe people?

The Tang people are truly shameless! Just like the fox on that mountain that cannot reach the grapes, saying: "Those grapes must be sour!"