Chapter 260: Not Everything Must Be Right or Wrong
Chapter 260: Not Everything Must Be Right or Wrong
Gou’er seemed dazed for a moment. But when Chen Changsheng asked how he had ascended the City Platform, Gou’er’s face clearly darkened.
It seemed like something he didn’t want to talk about.
Seeing his reluctance, Chen Changsheng said, “If you don’t wish to speak of it, let it be.”
Gou’er looked at him and said, “Actually, I never could have become the Divine Child. He gave it to me. He said that in life, debts must be repaid. I saved his life, so he had to repay me.”
“So many people died that day. He dragged me through, carving a bloody path with his own hands. He threw me onto the City Platform.”
After hearing this, Chen Changsheng asked, “What sort of person was he?”
Gou’er replied, “Him? A martial artist. Very strong. But he loved killing too much, and his words never made sense.”
Chen Changsheng said, “To walk the same path as such a person…”
“I didn’t want to,” Gou’er admitted. “He insisted on repaying the debt for saving him. He dragged me along.”
“Is this man you speak of still alive?”
“He is.”
Gou’er said, “But I don’t know where he is now.”
“Then why are you unwilling to speak of it?” Chen Changsheng asked.
“I…” Gou’er lowered his head. “Too many people died. I didn’t want to become the Divine Child. I told him I just wanted fewer people to die. Later, I told him about the City Platform.”
“He said, ‘If your heart isn’t at peace, kill whoever troubles it. Eggs hitting stones only break themselves. But stone can shatter stone. First, you must become stone.’”
“Then he dragged me straight to the City Platform in Eastern Province.”
When Gou’er was thrust into the heart of the killing, he truly felt the greed and murderous intent swirling in every heart. That chaos haunted him, flashing through his mind long after he fainted.
“I didn’t kill those people myself, but I often think of it. If I hadn’t found him in the woods that day, maybe so many wouldn’t have died because of me.”
Gou’er fell silent. To this day, it was hard for him to accept.
Chen Changsheng also grew quiet upon hearing this.
Finally, he said, “Go back now.”
Gou’er was startled and looked at him.
Chen Changsheng raised his head and said, “Think about this: might your way of thinking be too ideal?”
“Not everyone in this world holds kindness in their heart. Trying to awaken something that was never there is like doing something pointless.”
“You have some wisdom, but truly enlightened monks do not reach the Great Dao merely by avoiding killing and preaching mercy. Even those on that path need long vision, not stubborn self-righteousness, to glimpse the Great Dao.”
Chen Changsheng said no more. He waved his hand as if urging him to leave.
Seeing this, Gou’er kept his head down.
He wanted to speak several times but felt there was nothing wrong with what this man had said.
Gou’er bowed his head and murmured, “Farewell, Mr. Chen.”
He turned and walked away without looking back.
As he left, he looked lonely.
His very existence seemed ill-fitted to this world.
Upon returning to his courtyard, Gou’er shut himself away.
He questioned his choices often. Deep down, he knew all the people who had told him these things weren’t wrong. Yet he still refused to walk a path of endless killing.
He numbed himself repeatedly, burying everything he’d seen and heard within his heart, unwilling to speak of it.
He was only running away. Only afraid.
Truthfully, he had no great skill. No great persistence.
He was just terribly foolish.
Even he thought so.
……
Over the following days, Gou’er never visited Chen Changsheng’s small courtyard again.
Song Gudao sent someone to find Gou’er and brought him to the City Tower.
When Gou’er learned everything, he was lost once more.
He shook his head, unable to tell what was right or wrong here.
“How can this be…”
Standing on the City Tower that day, Gou’er asked Song Gudao, “Why must it be this way? Is there no other choice?”
Song Gudao shook his head. “In the fading years of magic, this is the only way.”
Gou’er fell silent. He had wanted to change this reality—to destroy the City Platform so fewer would die. Yet, without it, countless more would be endangered.
How could the result be like this?
Gou’er couldn’t accept it.
……
Gou’er returned to his courtyard looking utterly shattered. He glanced at the neighboring garden. Hesitated three times. But he finally went and knocked on the door.
Half a month had passed before Chen Changsheng saw him again.
Seeing Gou’er like a lost soul, Chen Changsheng likely understood.
“Come in.”
Gou’er sat down in the courtyard.
“Something happened,” he asked, almost pleading. “Can I ask for your guidance?”
Chen Changsheng replied calmly, “Ask.”
Gou’er said, “The existence of the City Platform… is it right? Or wrong? Mr. Chen, I don’t understand. I can’t tell.”
Chen Changsheng asked, “Do you think it leans towards goodness? Or wrong?”
After a long moment of thought, Gou’er gave his answer. “I… don’t know.”
Chen Changsheng said, “Not everything has to be settled by declaring right or wrong.”
“To kill one man to save thousands? To kill thousands to save one? These choices seem vastly different. Yet viewed through the lens of greater righteousness, perhaps neither is truly wrong.”
“If you cling to judging only right or wrong, you may never find the answer.”
Gou’er pressed his lips together. Softly, he asked, “Must this world really be kept alive only by endless killing?”
Chen Changsheng shook his head. “Killing isn’t the only solution. The world is tangled. It cannot be grasped in a single phrase. When I earlier told you to look further ahead, I did not mean for you to focus only on killing or not killing.”
“Look at what Song Gudao has done. On the altar of greater righteousness, he coldly calculates the deaths of tens of thousands. Yet who, truly knowing the reason, would call him wrong? Though not everyone, surely most would say he acted rightly.”
“Such choices cannot be decided by others telling you to do or not do them. They rest within yourself. For in this, no one can make the choice in your stead.”
“You need vision broad enough to guide such decisions.”
Gou’er stared at Chen Changsheng. He understood perhaps half—maybe less—but couldn’t formulate any reply.
What he did understand was this: he had sought guidance for a question without an answer.
Gou’er rose to leave. Chen Changsheng offered no more words.
His own courtyard was mere steps away.
But for Gou’er now, those steps felt like torture.
Kill thousands to save millions!
It ran counter to the way he believed in. But he could not call it wrong.
An act seemingly absurd, yet wrapped in grim logic.
Why must the world hold such torturous things?
Gou’er sank onto the step at his courtyard door.
Vaguely, he realized a very long road likely lay ahead.
A road whose end he could not yet see.