We Are Guilty, We Are Not Guilty (Part 2)

"Even if you didn't put that shoe..." [Zhang San] wanted to comfort him.

But [Xiu Wangchou] interrupted: "I've told myself these self-comforting words many times over the past 20 years...they're useless, the facts are there."

Leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, [Xiu Wangchou] murmured: "I was so close, really, just a little bit more..."

...

...

The incense in the corner had already burned halfway.

"Can you help me?" [Xiu Wangchou] suddenly spoke.

[Zhang San] looked up and met [Xiu Wangchou]'s gaze.

[Xiu Wangchou] said: "Your lightness skill is so good, your martial arts can't be bad either. [Lin Nu]'s left arm was crippled by me, killing him should be easy for you."

In those desperate eyes, hope shone through!

Could you bear to say "no" to someone like this?

[Zhang San] looked at [Xiu Wangchou], then said solemnly: "Alright, I'll kill him."

[Zhang San] was lying.

Although it was a kind lie.

The two looked at each other for a long time.

Silence filled the room.

[Xiu Wangchou] asked: "Why...why did you lie to me?"

[Zhang San] was startled.

This was the first time someone had seen through his lies.

His acting skills seemed to suddenly fail.

[Zhang San] slowly lowered his head, acquiescing.

[Xiu Wangchou] was not angry, just puzzled: "Since you're also a survivor from back then, don't you want revenge too?"

In those desperate eyes, hope shone through!

Could you bear to say no to someone like that?

[Zhang San] looked at his hands.

Because he had treated [Xiu Wangchou]'s injuries earlier, his hands were covered in blood streaks.

[Zhang San] glanced at the half-burned incense stick in the corner and said, "You just told me about your 20 years of nightmares, so let me tell you about a recurring nightmare I've had over the past 10-odd years."

The root of [Xiu Wangchou]'s nightmare was a shoe, while [Zhang San]'s was a white-haired old man.

Over 10 years ago, a famine broke out in the northern “Ya Commandery” of the Great Wu Nation.

The central government intended to purchase relief grain from the rice-rich “Nan Commandery” in the south.

At that time, [Han Wang], the largest rice merchant in [Nan Commandery], was already over 80 years old. Perhaps because he was over 80, he no longer cared about worldly possessions. Not only did he not want official disaster relief money, he was willing to exhaust his family’s wealth to provide disaster relief to [Ya Commandery].

But before the disaster relief efforts began, [Han Wang] died. He died in an assassination, with hundreds of assassins charging into the [Han] family’s manor in one night, killing the white-haired old man.

In fact, the [Han] family had been warned beforehand, so righteous martial artists who still had conscience and integrity spontaneously came to the [Han] manor to guard it.

That night, the assassins had all been held off.

[Han Wang] could have lived.

But [Han Wang] was still killed by the youngest assassin.

Later, other rice merchants colluded with certain “men of influence” in the court. In the end, they divided up [Han Wang]’s rice shops. The central government had no choice but to spend heavily to purchase relief grain.

But was the famine in [Ya Commandery] alleviated? No. Because what was transported there was grass, tree leaves, and even soil.

Where did the actual relief grain go? It turned out the profiteering merchants knew that besides the [Ya Commandery] famine, two small neighboring countries were at war. At this time, grain could be sold for several times the normal price.

So the domestic relief grain became military provisions for foreign wars. The grain that could only be sold once was resold at an even higher price.

The rice merchants of [Nan Commandery], as well as the officials responsible for relief efforts, all made a fortune from this incident. The cost was only the death of a white-haired old man and some “lowly commoners.” The powerful people didn't care one bit.

Indeed, in this strange world, only the crafty can profit immensely.

...

...

What was that white-haired old man thinking when I killed him?

In fact, it was only after completing the mission that [Zhang San] found out what kind of person the old man was and what he intended to do.

But it was too late.

Later on, [Zhang San] passed through [Ya Commandery] with his master...

In [Zhang San]'s secret chamber. [Zhang San] lowered his head, not daring to face [Xiu Wangchou] and [Wang Xiaoer], just murmuring to himself: “Have you ever seen what it's like when people starve to death... Have you seen what it's like when walking through a village with dead bodies everywhere and not a living soul... Have you seen crows on bodies that should still be alive...”

“Master...” [Wang Xiaoer] interrupted [Zhang San]’s reminiscence.

[Zhang San] silently raised his head and looked into [Wang Xiaoer]’s clear eyes, understanding that [Wang Xiaoer] didn’t want him to continue recalling such things.

But looking at [Wang Xiaoer], [Zhang San] recalled that just this morning, he had heard from the old man in yellow that [Wang Xiaoer]’s mother had passed away, while [Wang Xiaoer] was still completely unaware.

That’s just how the world is.

[Zhang San] said to [Xiu Wangchou]: “So now you know, right? I’m a killer, not a hermit.”

[Zhang San] then asked [Wang Xiaoer]: “So Xiao Er, do you understand now why the first lesson I taught you was that as a killer, you can’t bother with concepts of good and evil? We killers are just killers, nothing more.”

Under [Xiu Wangchou]’s gaze, [Wang Xiaoer] nodded at [Zhang San] and said, “I remember Master said we have to think this way, otherwise we’d live too wearily.”

No one spoke for a while.

The incense in the corner kept burning.

[Zhang San] turned his gaze to [Xiu Wangchou] and asked, “Both you and I were lucky enough to survive, but I think our lives over the past 20 years have been very different. Your master was a righteous hero who hated evil, while mine was a killer. Of course, my master was always good to me.”

“To be honest, when I first started learning martial arts, I did think about getting revenge. But over the past 20 years, especially after that famine more than 10 years ago...I've lost heart for that.”

Being raised by a killer is a very different concept from being raised by a hero.

One life is filled with hating evil and upholding justice and chivalry.

The other makes a living in the dark corners, sinfully taking lives.

Even two people from the same place, 20 years is enough to make them completely different.

[Xiu Wangchou] silently nodded, seeming to understand why [Zhang San] no longer wanted revenge.

Actually, it wasn't that [Zhang San] didn't want revenge.

[Zhang San] said self-deprecatingly, “Actually, when you knelt before me saying you knelt for those who died unjustly in your hometown, I knew then the one you wanted to kill was also my enemy. But if I really wanted revenge, I could have killed that prefect while you were recovering over those few days, yet I didn't go.”

“Because...” At this, [Zhang San] took a deep breath.

It took courage to utter the next sentence.

[Zhang San] said, “Because I'm no different from [Lin Nu] and those bandits.”

Finally [Zhang San] looked deeply at [Xiu Wangchou], the meaning very clear.

Who am I to seek revenge?

[Lin Nu] may have killed hundreds or thousands, but how many have died by [Zhang San]’s hands?

Surely even more.

How ridiculous for one devil to kill another devil.

[Xiu Wangchou] was silent. In the end, he could only find one sentence to say.

“But even if you didn't personally kill that elderly gentleman in the end, they would still send more...” [Xiu Wangchou] wanted to console [Zhang San].

But [Zhang San] raised his head and gave [Xiu Wangchou] an ugly smile, interrupting: “I've told myself these self-comforting words many times...they're useless, the facts are there.”