50 Old Tree (1/2)

In a faraway place, where the trees were full of green leaves and there was a garden of flowers in their full blooming glory. The place was atop a small mountain, overlooking a small and desolated village that seemed to be nothing more than a few crumbling sticks and broken stones.

Right next to the village in a grass field were about thirty wooden stakes that stood erect in neat rows, among the tall grass. The wood had been hastily put down as a mark of remembrance. The stakes of which were old, with some that were slightly newer, getting replaced as soon as the wood had worn down.

There were two figures that stood among the tall grass, silently ripping out the weeds and cutting the grasses that had grown well above an adult's waist.

”How long has it been?” Feng Rong asked slightly dazed as he plucked the weeds that had nearly tangled itself among the wooden stakes, almost becoming one. Weeds were such stubborn plants that always strived hard to survive, entangling the life out of the most healthy of plants. Feng Rong pulled with all his might before the weed let go in defeat.

”Three hundred years, maybe.” Feng Yun answered as she helped him out, cutting the grasses. Making a memorial site slightly more presentable before their eyes.

Though this was not particularly on show for anyone, they still did their best. Feng Yun looked at the young boy who had on a heavy expression while he was doing the work and inwardly sighed.

”I think that these stakes are still passable.” Feng Yun says as she inspects the stakes that had already been grown over with a layer of moss, though the wood seemed old, it was still quite sturdy, not yet infested with insects.

Everything was done with the utmost care, they were always careful not to disturb the old bones that were resting below. Even if there was a chance that those old bones had long become the remenants of dust long ago.

By the time they had cleared out all the weeds and grasses, it was already dark outside, this time, without the slightest light from places nearby. The stars twinkled like bonfires one would see from a distant mountain. They were not quite tired of course, it would take more than manual labor to tire out their unique bodies.

Feng Yun looked up at the night sky. There was a slight arc on her lips. Such brightness was rare to the small village, especially when not a single lamp had been lit in centuries. While she had not seen this scene since the village was inhabited by living vessels, it was nevertheless a scene that invoked memories from long ago.

”Ah Rong, look up at the stars, it hasn't been so bright here in a long time.” She called out to Feng Rong who was still sitting in front of the field of remembrance for a great while, his eyes were closed and he was in a kneeling position. Upon hearing her voice, his eyes opened up to serenely look at the night sky. Nodding his head, he agreed and slowly got up from the place he had been kneeling, where the grass had already formed a concave indent entrenched in the earth.

He dragged his body into an old cottage that had fallen into disrepair and had been rebuilt many times, the cycle repeating itself again and again. There, he climbed onto an old wooden bed and laid there. His eyes open, staring at the thatched roof that was above.