On this day, the great fire in Jiangzhou’s State City was fierce and swift. A man was asleep; he gathered up the red colorful cloth his wife had sewn. Oddly, the young won said it was requested by the Pri Minister.
Yet, up to now, the Pri Minister hadn’t co to claim it.
Nor had he sent anyone to retrieve it.
The man was a bit worried, so he carefully put away the item. He hadn’t slept well the previous night. The next day, he heard chaos outside, like the chaotic army had started fighting.
He rushed out in a hurry, pulled his wife back, and retreated to their cramped little room, firmly wedging the door shut. Then, the man clasped a hamr used for pounding things, his eyes wide, bloodshot.
He ntally recited all the deities he knew of, hoping they would protect them.
He hoped Lord Heavenly Venerate would open his eyes and show rcy to save them.
He hoped so Lord Qingtian would be rciful and co to their aid.
He spoke of Buddha’s great compassion.
He spoke of the Bodhisattva’s rcy in relieving suffering.
He ntioned Lord Heavenly Venerate’s benevolence, spoke of the Great Emperor’s kindness.
But why do they not save people?
anwhile, outside, there was shouting and commotion, very intense. Hearing it, one’s heart filled with fear. There was quiet for a while, then suddenly staggered footsteps, followed by soone pounding on the door.
"Open the door! Open the door!!!"
The man and his wife recognized the voice.
It was Steward Li.
Hurriedly, he dropped the hamr, clasped his rough hands, rubbed them together, instinctively bent his waist, moved quickly, and opened the door in a flurry.
He was so frantic that he accidentally knocked over the wooden block jamming the door, clumsily struggling.
He finally opened the door, greeted humbly: "Steward Li, you’re finally here. What happened? Why don’t you co to take the colorful cloth as promised...?"
Steward Li appeared disheveled too, his clothes covered in dust, looking like a mouse escaping from a house. He entered, gasping: "Where’s the item?!"
"Oh, oh, the item. Wife, hurry and bring the item."
He and his wife called out.
The woman brought out the item, with an ingratiating, fearful deanor, respectfully offering the colorful cloth: "It’s been carefully embroidered according to the patterns given by the young ladies."
Impatiently, Steward Li opened it, took one glance, and was outraged. He crumpled it with both hands into a ball, furiously throwing it away, cursing: "What nonsense have you embroidered!!!"
He had so martial skills too.
Alongside his shock and anger at the mont, he threw it against the woman’s forehead, causing her to fall back, blood spilling from her forehead, letting out a painful groan, and she curled up holding her head.
The pain was severe, yet she dared not utter a sound or cry out.
At ho, one cries in pain because family is there, worried, caring, taking care; when soone cares, the fear and pain flow out in tears, and the heart doesn’t hurt anymore.
Outside, one doesn’t cry because no one cares; crying only disrupts their tranquility and vexes them. The beatings only get worse.
So, she had to act like a rotten piece of wood, a broken rag, curling up to endure. The pain numbing her heart ceased to hurt.
Steward Li, utterly furious, knew of the chaos in the world, knew Prince Qin’s army was outside. He realized the mont to secure his future lifestyle had co.
This crucial mont hinged on the colorful cloth, but it was this wretched piece embroidered wrongly!
It turned out they were illiterate, had embroidered the words "Welcoming the Royal Army" crookedly and incorrectly, leaving it unreadable and inappropriate for Prince Qin to see!
His life, his future—damned, damned!
Under imnse pressure, he almost went insane, losing the restraint he once had, venting emotions without a goal, driven only by fear and frustration, kicking the woman in anger.
The man was stunned, helplessly then rushing over to pull Steward Li, with a forced smile: "Steward Li, what are you doing... if sothing’s wrong..."
Steward Li yelled: "Get lost!!"
With a flick of his sleeve, the man was thrown against the wall, in excruciating pain, tears welling up as he ntally recited every deity, Buddha, Bodhisattva he knew, but to no avail.
Realizing he was completely cornered, having lost all possibilities, Steward Li broke down, resorting to violence to express his tumultuous emotions.
"Cry! Cry you vile thing!"
"Ugly and dark, a wretch, a wretch!"
"You’ve ruined my future! Cry, plead with !"
As blows fell like raindrops, the woman stifled her voice, silently enduring, while the man cried, knelt, pleading, shouting, but no response. He knelt, crying out loud:
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