Outside, heavy rain began to fall.
A Shui gathered the bowls and chopsticks used for the wood ear porridge and quietly withdrew. Liu Yan got out of bed and, leaning on his cane, walked to the window. He gazed at the downpour while holding a cup of cold tea. When one is exhausted yet has no desire to sleep, they might find an unusual patience to savor the taste of a simple cup of water. He found the tea cold, its flavor faint, almost devoid of any lingering aroma.
Someone splashed in through the door, startling Liu Yan slightly—the sound was like a bucket of water being dumped on the floor. It was Fang Pingzhai, who entered carrying a large drum under each arm, thoroughly drenched, his clothes dripping. "Oh! Master, you're actually up? I thought you planned to lie there forever, not leaving that bed unless the mountains crumbled, the seas dried up, or the earth shook. A thousand years from now, people would find a skeleton on that bed, unable to move it no matter how hard they tried..."
"Are you drunk?" Liu Yan studied him. Fang Pingzhai had a wine gourd tied at his waist, and though he was soaked, Liu Yan could still detect a faint scent of alcohol. Fang Pingzhai set down the drums and sighed. "I jumped into the river and soaked for half an hour, but if you can't hold your liquor, you just can't. No matter what you do, it's impossible to hide..." His face was already flushed, so the wine's effect wasn't obvious, and his demeanor seemed normal—yet Liu Yan noticed.
"Where did you get the wine?" Liu Yan asked indifferently. Fang Pingzhai peeled off his heavy, waterlogged outer robe. "From a bad source. You'd regret it if you knew." Liu Yan almost smiled. "It doesn't matter. I'm always regretting things." Fang Pingzhai laughed. "Fair enough. Let me ask you something—answer me seriously, alright?" Liu Yan poured him a cup of cold tea. "Go on."
"Suppose you had a family estate, glorious and unparalleled in the world. Your parents loved you dearly, and not just them—your siblings, cousins, nephews, even the servants and maids, down to the janitor and the gatekeeper, all adored you, all willing to live and die for you. Then one day, your parents die, your estate is seized, and in a single day, your family is destroyed. Your eldest brother dies for no reason, your second brother betrays you, your fourth brother is left homeless. Twenty years later, you grow up, master martial arts—what would you do?" Fang Pingzhai's tone remained flippant.
Liu Yan frowned slightly. "What would I do?" Fang Pingzhai gave a bitter smile. "Yes, what would you do? Would you seek revenge? Would you take everything back?" Liu Yan replied, "I don't know." Fang Pingzhai smacked his forehead. "I knew asking you was a waste of breath. Master, your mind is a mess..." Liu Yan cut him off, speaking calmly. "But I know if it were Tang Lici, he would take everything back without question." Fang Pingzhai blinked. "Huh?" Liu Yan continued, "Would you be content to lose everything? It wasn't your fault—it was theirs. Those who do wrong must pay. Tang Lici never lets things go." He smiled faintly. "As for me... I don't know what I'd do. But if I did nothing, I wouldn't be at peace with myself.""Haha, is that so? What if one day you discover that the servants and maids who saved you were killed, and suddenly you find yourself all alone—what would you do then?" Fang Pingzhai laughed. "Once you're alone, no one will expect you to seek revenge. No one will know what you once had. The past will seem like an empty dream. If you wish, you can pretend you never had anything at all."
"That's self-deception," Liu Yan glanced at him. "Why did you choose to give up?" Fang Pingzhai wasn't bothered. Both of them knew exactly who he was really asking this question for. With a smile, he replied, "Because choosing revenge is exhausting. It means bearing heavy responsibilities, killing many people—perhaps mountains of corpses and rivers of blood. Is it necessary to slaughter thousands just for the loss of my family?" Liu Yan said indifferently, "Such a question can't be asked of others."
"Ah... what a waste of words, energy, effort, and even my emotions..." Fang Pingzhai sighed, pulling a dripping fan from his sleeve. He waved it a couple of times before slowly heading toward his room. Liu Yan watched his retreating figure and called out, "Fang Pingzhai."
This was the first time he had addressed his shamelessly persistent disciple by name. Fang Pingzhai let out an "Oh" and turned back. Liu Yan said, "Do as you wish," shaking his head slowly, "but you cannot refuse to think about it."
Fang Pingzhai stiffened slightly. After a moment, he laughed. "Master, your words are truly..." He choked up, clasping his hands behind his back, and left the sentence unfinished as he walked straight back to his room.
Liu Yan's piercing gaze remained fixed on Fang Pingzhai's door.
Fang Pingzhai was clearly facing an immense trouble, but the issue wasn't the problem itself—it was his evasion. He didn’t want to make a choice, so he came to ask him. But—
But no one could make such a decision for another. It was precisely because he always let others decide for him that he had ended up where he was now, wasn’t it?
What was Fang Pingzhai truly thinking?
What would he choose? Or would he continue to evade?
No choice could be more painful than evasion.
That night, and until the next morning, Fang Pingzhai never reappeared. When A Shui opened his room, she found it completely empty—he had vanished without a trace at some unknown hour.
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