Mausoleum

  "The heavens are dry, beware of fire." The hoarse voice echoed through the alleys of this small town, on the ancient bluestone slabs, only this night watchman came and went in the alleys, every time he shouted, he would strike a bell, then rub his hands on his tattered cotton clothes, this winter was really hard to get through.

  A small shadow appeared behind him, the watchman looked down at his feet and turned around with a big courage: "Who?!"

  Look at this little guy, the watchman burst out laughing: "What time is it now, you're still wandering outside, your dad doesn't even care about you."

  In front of him, this child was only eight years old, he tightly pursed his lips, his chest rose and fell, there was a purple mark on his forehead, he stared at the night watchman in front of him, his age was really very big, like grandfather's age, the wrinkles on his face were one after another, like mountains and rivers lying on his face, old, even his eyes became dull, must he die just because he was old?

  The child sniffled, didn't say a word, and took off running!

  The night watchman scolded: "This kid is just like a born and bred troublemaker! Who has he been fighting with now?"

  This child has a father and mother, his mother died early, there is still a father and grandfather in the family. No one knows when this family moved to Fengcheng, but everyone knows that this child is extremely brave. When he was four years old, he dared to sit on the grave mound. Other children who sat on the grave mound would have nightmares when they returned home, but this child went back home and slept soundly, with nothing out of the ordinary happening throughout the night.

  The child ran wildly along the bluestone path, his cloth shoes flying off, but he didn't care, dragging one shoe as he rushed into his own home, turning a corner to enter the west wing. Inside, a man stood stiffly beside the bed, staring at the old man on it. The child approached silently: "The pharmacy is closed and the doctor isn't answering the door."

  He said, clenching his fists, still with anger in his heart. Although he was young, he knew that the doctor was selfish and had pretended not to hear him when he saw that it was a poor family's child who came knocking on the door. He had forced his way in, but was beaten out, and the spittle spat on the ground, as well as the shout of "poor devil", hurt him deeply!

  The old man on the bed was as withered as a dry corpse, and it was clear that his time was almost up. His thin hands stroked the child's face: "The time has come, even the King of Heaven can't stop it. Grandson, remember what I'm about to say carefully."

  Although it was a dying wish, the old man on the bed did not show any sadness. He turned his head to look at the man standing beside him wearing coarse linen clothes: "Bring me the thing."

  That middle-aged man nodded and immediately left, after a while, he came back with two boxes emitting fragrance in his hands. One of them was opened, inside were four scrolls of paper, each tied with a red string. The solemn atmosphere made the boy's eyes stare at these four scrolls: "Grandpa, what is this?"

  "Your fate is sealed." The old man said: "Grandfather's days are numbered, and the things you can do for him are even fewer. I have no wealth to leave you, only to seal your fate for you."

  The father nodded, and the boy immediately unfolded the four scrolls. Although he was only eight years old, he had already recognized Chinese characters, thanks to his father's efforts. He read aloud the content on the first scroll: "A body of flesh and blood is most noble, early entered the Confucian school with a surname, but by the time he was thirty-six, why did he abandon his heart and will?"

  The boy was still young and didn't understand the meaning behind it, neither his father nor grandfather explained it to him. He immediately opened the second volume: "A beauty like an orchid, a fate as desolate as autumn, even if there is someone who understands, it's just a fleeting encounter in the mirror."

  This time, the boy somewhat understood that beauty can only be associated with a girl, and what was said should refer to a girl.

  The third one was a blank paper. The old man shook his head and said, "It's the same person, but two lives were written, one of which is blank. I really don't understand, I don't understand!"

  Seeing his grandfather's sorrow, the boy did not dare to ask, took out the fourth volume and unfolded it: "The heart is more clever than Gān by one trick, wisdom surpasses Wò Lóng by three points, when emotions and righteousness want to last long, shocking heaven and changing fate cannot be helped."

  Twenty-eight words spoken from the boy's mouth, loud and clear, with a bit of majesty. The old man on the bed hooked up the corner of his mouth, revealing a smile: "This is exactly what you said."

  "Me?" The boy was somewhat taken aback: "These few words are talking about a rather extraordinary person."

  "Grandpa's fate is never wrong." The child's father said in a low voice.

  The child had never heard of his grandfather's past, but Grandfather once said that he was afflicted with water at the age of seven. On his seventh birthday, he indeed fell into a well and nearly lost his life. Grandfather is a living god.

  "There will be many important people in your life, but only these two will affect your final outcome the most. The old man emphasized: "You must wait for them."

  The child pointed at another box and asked: "What's inside this one?"

  The father opened the box and found a scroll of painting inside. The old man said, "This painting is also for you. You must remember to keep both the box and the painting, keep them!"

  The old man suddenly took a deep breath and the man beside him exclaimed excitedly: "Dad!"

  The old man waved his hand and closed his eyes weakly: "In this life, I only did one wrong thing, not only killing your grandmother and mother, but also making you and me live in hiding. If what the fortune teller said is true, then only you can make up for my mistakes!"

  The old man's hand stretched out, but it was a grab at air. The child was extremely quick-witted and immediately grasped the grandfather's hand: "Grandpa, I'm here."

  The old man held the small hand in his palm, a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, but his head leaned weakly to one side. A tear fell from his left eye, and yet the corners of his mouth were raised, forming a smiling expression. The child felt the warmth in Grandpa's palm slowly fade away, biting his teeth tightly, not allowing himself to shed tears...

  In front of grandfather's grave, there was no tombstone, nor any burning incense. The father and son had been kneeling for an hour when the father finally pulled the child up from the ground: "Child, I have some things to tell you that you need to remember clearly in your mind, but don't mention them to anyone, got it?"

  The boy nodded heavily: "I know."

  "Your grandfather's name is Yang Sannian, and I am Yang Shijian." Father said: "You must remember these two names, but you can't mention them to others. Also, the fate book and painting left by your grandfather should be kept well, especially that painting, which has a mysterious meaning. If you understand it, this is your fate; if you don't understand it, it's also good!"

  The father saw the boy's solemn expression, and suddenly felt a pang of reluctance in his heart. However, the parting was ultimately before him. He took the child's hand: "Son, from now on, you can only move forward, not look back."

  The boy seemed to understand but didn't go against his father's wishes, and followed him as they journeyed on. In the suburbs, a troupe of actors was resting, and the leader, dressed in a long green robe with his hands clasped behind his back, looked anxious. When he saw the father and son approaching, his eyes immediately fell upon the child: "Is it him?"

  "Yes."

  "Not bad, I'll take him away." The boss grabbed the boy's hand: "You're not allowed to regret it."

  His father's face twitched: "Treat him well, I'll go first."

  The boy was very calm, as if all this was a matter of course. He just sniffled and sat down on the ground, watching his father leave. The class master found it quite strange: "Aren't you going to chase after your dad?"

  "What's good about chasing?" The boy raised an eyebrow: "If he wanted me, he wouldn't have thrown me here. Since I've come all the way here, why should I run away?"

  The boss was stunned for a moment, didn't say a word, and just patted the boy's shoulder heavily: "You little brat have some guts!"

  At that time, in 1916, this child was eight years old.