WenZhou / JunZhe World

16. The Blue Jade Pendant - Part I

It was late. Not a single soul could be seen except a small figure in the middle of the yard. He was standing a few hundred meters away from a wooden log which had wooden sticks plugged into it in an attempt to make it resemble a person.

The small figure had a fan in his right hand. He seemed to be focusing his mind and setting a target. Then he threw the fan which successfully broke off the stick that symbolized the right hand of the wooden log.

He nodded, satisfied with the result, and stepped forward to pick up his fan. He returned to his original spot and focused his mind again, this time aiming for the left side of the log. He was about to raise his fan when suddenly he heard a few hurried steps, along with a boyish screaming voice.

“Let me go! Let me go!”

“Shut up!”

From afar, he saw two masked men who were holding a boy around his age. He was struggling hard, trying to release himself, but of course, comparing the boy’s strength to that of the two men, he would never win.

As the trio walked past by, the boy’s eyes caught his. He was still struggling but his eyes were sending a signal that he was asking for help. No, he wasn’t asking, he was looking at him pleadingly. He was literally begging for his help. It was only for a few seconds, but he instantly recognized the mixed emotions in the other boy’s eyes.

Confusion, fear, anxiety and panic. Those were all too familiar for him.

“Help! Help me please!” the boy managed to scream at him before he received a hard slap from one of the men.

“Shut up if you don’t want to get beaten!” the man shouted at him.

The boy was still struggling, a little bit weaker now, maybe because of the pain or maybe because he was exhausted already, but he didn’t say anything else as both men dragged him away.

Alone again, the boy in the yard let out a soft sigh, looked at the fan in his hand, and decided to retreat to his room. He couldn’t concentrate anymore. The scene before his eyes had awoken his own painful memories.

He absentmindedly walked back to his room as his mind roamed to that fateful day. How long had it been? Six years. It had been six years, yet he still couldn’t erase the pain in his heart.

It had been a fine afternoon. After playing outside at the nearby river, he had happily returned home, carefully holding a small grasshopper in his hands to show it off to his parents. But what he saw in their front yard was something that he couldn’t have imagined even in his worst nightmare. His big smile dropped; his eyes widened with shock.

There were so many people. They wore strange clothes, mostly red and black. Some were even wearing scary masks. They were all looking towards one particular spot on the ground, where two people were laying – one man, one woman. Their once light robes were now bright red. Blood.

The eight-year-old boy took a step forward. He frowned. He recognized these robes. He recognized these two people on the ground, even if their faces were covered with blood and their bodies were plastered with wounds.

He ignored the stares from those weird people as he took steps closer to the bodies. He was wondering why his parents were sleeping on the ground. He kneeled beside them. He touched his mother’s back. It was still warm, but she didn’t move. He tried to call her, but she didn’t answer. He looked at his father. He shook him a little, but he didn’t react either. Both remained silent. He waited for a moment and shook them again and still received no response.

Instead of crying, he looked up to those weird people in anger. It was them. It had to have been them who hurt his parents. He looked at them one by one, memorizing each of their faces before his eyes landed on a man who was standing not far from him.