Chapter 485: What Was Lost

Time flowed like sand, silently slipping through the gaps of his fingers for three years.

Yu Lin had also lived in this small building in Nazareth for a full three years.

However, most of the townspeople seemed unaware that an Easterner with a strikingly different appearance had appeared among them.

It wasn't that Yu Lin deliberately hid himself; it was more like a cognitive blur, as if he naturally belonged here.

Among the few who knew of his presence naturally included Yuese, Mary, and the now eight‑year‑old Jesus.

After all, Yuese and Mary had already seen Yu Lin once back in Bethlehem, and over these three years Jesus often ran over to Yu Lin's small building, sometimes to play with him,

and sometimes, when Yuese and Mary needed to go out together to handle affairs, they would entrust Jesus to Yu Lin's care with peace of mind for a while.

In their view, this Eastern sage who was kind to Jesus was trustworthy.

However, Yu Lin gradually noticed some subtle changes in Jesus.

But he couldn't yet say exactly what the change was, so he decided to keep observing.

For example, right now.

Yu Lin, as usual, sat on the low stone steps in front of his small building, relaxed.

Even though he sat there conspicuously on the busy sidewalk, passersby seemed to never notice him, their gazes naturally sliding elsewhere.

His attention, however, was fully focused on an open space at a nearby street corner.

There, a small crowd had gathered, with two men red‑faced and spitting at the center.

One was a foreign merchant who had just delivered goods, dust‑laden and wearing exotic attire; the other was a local market vendor familiar to the area, his face showing the shrewdness of a trader.

Scattered between them were shards of pottery and overturned dried fruit, clearly from a recent physical scuffle; they had been pulled apart by their companions or onlookers, but the war of words was now heating up.

"You black‑hearted thing! Are you bullying us outsiders because we don't know the market? This grade of olive oil costs only ten copper coins a jar in Āntíā, and you dare ask for fifteen?! Has your heart been eaten by dogs?!"

The foreign merchant trembled with rage, his beard shaking as he pointed at the vendor's nose and shouted.

The local vendor showed no weakness, hands on hips, spit almost flying onto the other's face: "Nonsense! Āntíā is Āntíā, Nazareth is Nazareth!"

"Here the price is what it is! Isn't labor free? Isn't storage free? If you think it's too expensive, don't buy it! After buying, you're causing a scene here trying to welch on payment?"

"I tell you, not only here but if you asked every stall in the Nazareth market, no one would sell at your price! Don't come here pretending to be rich if you're poor!"

The foreign merchant was utterly enraged by the words "poor ghost," and his voice rose several notches:

"Who are you calling a poor ghost?! You swindler! I've traveled halfway across Rome, and this is the first time I've seen someone sell inferior goods as top quality and act so righteous about it!"

"Inferior goods? Open your dog eyes and look properly! This is all high‑quality olive…"

They traded insults, the language growing ever more vulgar and crude.

The onlookers not only refrained from intervening, they all listened with relish, some even wearing smiles as they enjoyed the show, whispering about who insulted harder and more creatively.

For this slow‑paced, entertainment‑starved town, such a free verbal spectacle was undoubtedly a fine afternoon diversion.

Just as the clamor intensified and the two men seemed about to break free from those holding them back, preparing for a "second round" of physical confrontation——

A small figure slipped nimbly through the crowd and stood between the two furious adults.

It was Jesus.

At eight years old he had grown considerably since three years ago, yet he was still much shorter than the surrounding adults.

He wore a clean old robe, his hair neatly combed, and his small face showed none of the timidity or excitement typical of children his age.

His expression was very calm, even excessively so.

He raised both hands, made a gesture to stop, and his voice rang out:

"Please stop, don't keep arguing, and don't hurt each other any further."

His gaze first turned to the local vendor, then to the foreign merchant; his tone held no blame or favor, only a calm statement of fact:

"Above all, we should be kind to one another, loving our neighbors as ourselves."

"Anger and quarreling bring no benefit; they only harden the heart, break relationships, and breed hatred."

The local vendor clearly knew Jesus—the famed "good child" of Nazareth, the quiet, helpful son of carpenter Yuese who occasionally uttered "deep" words.

His impression of Jesus was not bad; he even felt some affection, for who wouldn't like a well‑behaved, trouble‑free child?

Seeing Jesus step forward, the vendor's anger eased a little, but he was still irritated, waving his hand impatiently:

"Jesus, this isn't your concern; this outsider doesn't know the rules and wants to wriggle out—I'll make him learn how business is done in Nazareth today! Go play aside, don't get hurt."

The foreign merchant was in the midst of his tirade when a small child interrupted him, making him even more annoyed; he was about to include Jesus in his scolding, but Jesus' ensuing calm gaze left him inexplicably choked up.

That child's gaze… was so clear, so clear it seemed able to reflect his own ugly state at that moment!

The vulgar word he had been about to utter got stuck in his throat.

Jesus paid no heed to the vendor's telling him to leave, nor was he affected by the merchant's momentary loss of words.

He simply continued in that steady tone:

"The price difference comes from the distance traveled, the merchant's labor, and varying local demand."

"One side feels it unfair, the other feels it reasonable; this is not an irreconcilable contradiction."

"Why not sit down and discuss calmly? Perhaps we can find a number both sides can accept."

"The Lord teaches us to be tolerant and seek harmony; for a few copper coins, is it worth filling our spirits with anger?"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the surrounding onlookers:

"The laughter and chatter of the spectators cannot quell your anger; they may even fuel it. True wisdom lies in resolving disputes, not in merely watching or even provoking them."

These words, spoken by an eight‑year‑old, startled everyone nearby; even the two men who had been shouting the loudest momentarily forgot to continue their insults.

Is this something an eight‑year‑old could say?

At that age they were still running all over the streets, rolling on the ground!

The local vendor opened his mouth to retort, "What does a child know about business?" but looking into Jesus' eyes, he inexplicably felt uneasy and couldn't get the words out.

The foreign merchant furrowed his brows, seeming to chew over the meaning of Jesus' words, then finally shook his head with a light laugh:

"What does a little kid like you know?"

"This is business! This is the livelihood we need to support our families!"

"Hey, you there, come over. Don't argue in front of the child; today I'll have a proper talk with you.........."

The two turned and walked away.

Yu Lin, sitting not far away, took it all in.

He squinted slightly.

Something was off.

Three years ago, the five‑year‑old Jesus, though precocious and kind, would intervene in fights and say "the main thing is that we love the world," but at that time his mediation carried a childlike, tentative effort; his eyes showed unease about conflict, a subtle attention to others' reactions, and even after being knocked down he would still worry about the person who pushed him.

A kindness that was warm, imbued with human feeling and interaction.

But now Jesus…

His mediation remains reasonable, even more logically structured.

His words still point toward love and peace.

But his demeanor, tone, gaze… are too "calm."

Calm as a mirror, merely reflecting the chaos before it and then rationally pointing out its fallacies and what ought to be.

He cares whether principles can be followed, whether disputes can be resolved, whether the Lord's teachings can be put into practice, yet it seems… he lacks empathy for the specific emotions of those involved.

It's as if… one who gradually sheds mundane emotions and human entanglements, and begins to comprehend and practice goodness and love in a way that aligns more closely with the rules or the ideals themselves.

He still does good deeds and urges others toward virtue, but what drives him no longer seems to be merely the childlike heart of "Nazareth carpenter's son Jesus," which can rejoice, be confused, and be hurt, but something…

"Divinity…"

In Yu Lin's mind, those two characters slowly surfaced.

Jesus's humanity is gradually being lost.

He thought, "This isn't good… My best friend is the Holy 'person' who makes me pity the world."