Chapter 505: Choice and Mission

Night fell, and the little village of Nazareth returned to quiet.

John's family decided to stay at Jesus's house tonight and set out again early tomorrow.

John was naturally assigned to share a room with Jesus.

The room was small and sparsely furnished. Jesus slept on the original bed, while John slept on a simple wooden cot that Joseph had temporarily moved in.

A small earthen oil lamp sat on a low cabinet in the corner, its tiny flame flickering and dispelling a patch of darkness, casting the two men's wavering, enlarged shadows on the wall.

John felt no sleepiness.

He sat on the hard wooden plank bed, eyes wide open, staring at the window and the Starry Sky, while his mind replayed a scene.

After dinner, he watched Yu Lin depart with his own eyes, the relaxed figure blending into Nazareth's streets and finally vanishing at dusk, like a drop of water merging into the sea, leaving no trace.

He withdrew his gaze from the window, turned his head, and looked toward Jesus on the other side of the room.

Jesus also had not yet fallen asleep.

He leaned his back against the wall, bathed in the lamp's weak light, quietly reading an ancient Jewish scripture.

The parchment scroll unfolded slowly in his hands, his expression focused, as if none of the day's conversations and interludes had ever occurred.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the occasional faint crackle of the lamp and the subtle rustle of Jesus turning the scroll.

Finally, John could no longer hold back.

He sat up, his gaze burning as he looked at Jesus's side profile outlined by the lamp's glow, and said in a low voice:

"Jesus, do you really believe him like that?"

The "him" here is obvious.

Jesus's fingers paused briefly as he turned a page, but he did not look up, merely giving a soft "mm" as a reply.

The tone was flat yet certain, without any hesitation.

"Why?" John pressed, his brows knit.

He could not understand why someone bearing such a holy mission, marked by revelation, would place such unconditional trust in an unknown, erratic outsider who might even disrupt the divine plan.

Why?

When John asked that, Jesus himself was slightly taken aback.

He truly had never examined the question closely.

After pondering, he still didn't know why, but suddenly the memory of the photo Yu Lin had shown him—of Yu Lin with him as an infant—surfaced in his mind.

At that thought, a warm smile naturally appeared on Jesus's face; he turned his head toward John:

"Perhaps because… he once held me, fed me milk back then."

John: "........"

He opened his mouth, momentarily at a loss for how to respond.

"What… what reason is that?"

His tone was full of confusion and incomprehension, even a hint of frustration.

Who says early acquaintance automatically warrants trust?

John had witnessed too many betrayals, brother‑against‑brother… In the face of profit, such bonds are as fragile as bubbles.

Jesus gave no further explanation, merely smiled, picked the scroll up again, his smile bearing a softness John could not grasp.

Seeing his unwillingness to delve deeper, John inhaled sharply and chose a different angle.

He sat upright, his tone becoming more solemn:

"Jesus, you must understand, you were born to be the King of the Jews."

"The gates of the Kingdom of Heaven will open because of you, the lost lambs will be found through you, and humanity's sins will be forgiven because of you."

"This is your predetermined path."

A fierce light reignited in his eyes: "Any deviation, any hesitation, may bring unforeseeable consequences."

This time, Jesus did not answer immediately.

He was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the dancing flame, his voice light yet unusually clear:

"I know."

He paused, then added, "This is also what the Father told me."

John felt a sigh of relief, thinking he had been heard.

Yet Jesus's next words lifted John's heart once more:

"But," Jesus raised his head, his gaze calmly meeting John's burning stare:

"I also cannot, because of this 'predetermined road,' hurt those I love and who love me."

John was stunned.

He had imagined Jesus might doubt the mission or his own ability, but did not expect the hesitation to stem from such… worldly emotional ties?

Think of John, who knew his mission since childhood.

For his own mission.

He shunned materialism, freed himself from worldly cravings, subsisting on locusts and wild honey, clothed in camel‑hair garments.

He chose to dwell in the wilderness, away from bustling towns and crowds, untouched by corrupt religious elites or the blind worship of ordinary folk.

He felt he was ready, but Jesus…

"Then what will you do?" John couldn't help but ask.

"Mission and emotion often cannot both be satisfied; you must always make a choice."

Jesus looked at John's anxious expression and instead gave a soothing smile:

"In a few days, you will know."

Again, the same!

I won't say! Nothing to say!

John felt a deep sense of helplessness.

He felt that this cousin before him was like a mist wrapped in soft light, appearing clear but actually elusive.

He possessed the purest divine intuition, yet was bound by the most mundane human emotions; he knew the grandest mission, yet hesitated at the details.

After a moment, John let out a long breath.

He lay back down on the bed, his voice sounding somewhat weary in the dim light:

"If that's the case... I understand. Then, when you feel ready, you can come find me by the Jordan River."

He paused, looking toward Jesus:

"Or... I will come find you."

Jesus merely gave a slight nod, his gaze returning to the scroll in his hand, and said softly:

"Hmm."

After the brief reply, the room was once again filled with silence.

The oil lamp's flame gradually weakened, and the night outside grew ever darker.

Two young people bearing different missions and possessing different temperaments, sharing the same room, yet as if separated by an invisible curtain.

The night deepened gradually.

Until the next day.

John's family had a simple breakfast, then bade farewell and left.

The conversation between those two young men in the room last night, only they knew.

Not long after seeing off the guests, the tranquility of the courtyard was broken by familiar footsteps.

Yu Lin sauntered in, and at a glance saw Jesus again in that corner, launching an "attack" at the piece of wood that had already taken a rough human shape.

Wood shavings piled up at his feet; he was focused, as if everything outside had nothing to do with him.

"Jesus."

Jesus' chisel in his hand steadied; he turned his head, looking toward Yu Lin.

"What's up?"

"I'm going to be away for a while."

Since the last time Yu Lin left, he was gone for four years without a word, and upon returning he has stayed until now.

Now, he's leaving again? How long will this be?

He set down his tools, turned his body, facing Yu Lin directly, his eyes full of inquiry:

"Where are you going this time? How long will you be gone?"

Yu Lin, following his question, raised his hand and casually pointed toward the Han dynasty.

"Oh, it's the New Dynasty now."

He wore a smile, as if sharing an interesting tidbit:

"I'm going to watch a fight; who knows, I might be back then."

"What?" Jesus blinked, obviously not expecting that answer.

"Fighting? Yu Lin deliberately left just to go watch people fight?"

"Two bouts." Yu Lin extended two fingers, gesturing enthusiastically:

"One in the heavens, featuring a monkey quite adept at causing trouble, who got beaten down."

"The other underground,"

He pointed his finger downward: "My first disciple, the dynasty he established, is about to revive again."

"The heavenly brawling monkey? The underground dynasty's revival?"

Jesus blinked, but he did not pursue further details.

After a moment of silence, he slowly nodded:

"Hmm, I understand."

"Safe travels."