Chapter 268 - Advice Over Drinks (2/2)
I froze. My companions were still eating and bantering, froze too. Their hands paused as they were reaching for barbecue skewers and the entire table fell silent. The merriment suffocated immediately to be replaced by cautious and wary stares at Mu Haisong. Our conversation with Na San about Jin Qichen’s phantasmal ambition of reviving the Qing Empire was soft even amidst the noise in the busy restaurant. Yet how did he?! Lin Feng, his eyes narrowing with suspicion, voiced out the very question I was meaning to ask, “How did you know about Jin Qichen and his goal? Who told you about these?”
To our amazement, Mu Haisong merely smiled and pointed at his ear. Pseudo-old man Zhu Fengwei cackled lightly. “His ears are extraordinarily acute. Just like how all blind people are.” We stared dubiously at Mu Haisong, whose wriggling eyeballs under his eyelids seemed nothing unusual to us. He is really blind or…I gasped quietly and Mu snorted. “Ignore him,” he explained, saying, “I’m not blind. But my sight is terrible. So you can say I’m half-blind, maybe. But my hearing is good. Naturally good.”
That at least shattered the iciness that congealed about the table and everyone broke into laughter. Thank blood God that it’s just a joke… I grimaced quietly. So Mu was born with good hearing, just like how I was born with the Spirit Sight, and the rest of his companions each might have exceptional skill sets of their own.
“So, Mu, you said Jin Qichen would never give up. Why?” I asked and Mu smiled again. “It would not be easy for him to understand. People like him are stubborn. They would never listen to what you say unless the problem is shoved into their faces. Not until he feels the pain itself. It’s just like Zhang Er’ge here. He refused to listen to us no matter how painstakingly we’ve been trying to tell him. It was only after the fight that had almost claimed his life he understood. I daresay this prince is the same. For all we know he might have already realized what he is. A cannon fodder or a pawn. But he just refuses to accept it. He’s in denial. So don’t ever expect you’d be able to convince him. Remember that. This Prince Beile is like a part of the Earth. Headstrong and hard. No one will be able to change him. So we can only change ourselves.”
All around the table, nobody spoke. Simple words by a simple stranger, yet they rang so true. So true that all of us were left astounded. “Change ourselves, you say?” Big Sister spoke suddenly, “Do you mean we should help that stupid prince to rebuild his empire?”
“Hell, no,” Mu replied, his brow cocking up with interest, “Change the way you’re seeing this problem, not change your purpose and acquiesce to him. Changing your perception of this problem will lend you new angles and perspectives, allowing you other ways to solve it.” He ended with a look at Na San. Big Sister scoffed derisively again. I however mulled over Mu’s words which inspired upon me fresh insights. This was how I had always looked Jin Qichen as: an enemy. The very same role he had played in my deliberations. But Na San had changed this. He forced himself to change and plea for our help and this was how he had won our acknowledgment and respect.
So what happens if I look at things from Jin Qichen’s point of view? I wondered. He had lost both his parents since he was a boy, surrounded by slaves who bowed to his every beck and call, growing up being told endlessly that he was the heir to the line of emperors. The vision of the revival of the Qing Empire was something thrust into his arms whether he willed it or not and with time, he yielded and began to place faith into it, believing that it was his destiny to once again bring about the second coming of the Qing Dynasty. The dream that drove him to so earnestly covet the Shiyan Blade and hope with ferocious fervor that I would stand by his side. Everything looked so right and proper from his point of view. He was only pursuing his destiny. A purpose that he truly believed in that he would willingly become someone else’s pawn if it could see his dreams come true.
That thought filled me with a pang of sentimental relief as I exhaled lightly. What Mu said was indeed an inspiration to me and I have learned much after listening to him. “Good advice is rarer than rubies, they say,” I chuckled and said, “Yours is even more so, Mu. Thank you so much. I guess I understand now.” Mu merely emitted a coy smile, saying nothing. “Humph,” Big Sister snorted again and said, “What advice? As if there’s anything to be gleaned from the nonsense he just spewed! In the end, the prince is still an enemy of ours. Aside from being their stooge, he’s no different to the true villains hiding in the background.”
Mu made no attempt to reply. I rose up, hoping to assuage Mu for Big Sister’s brashness. Lifting my glass, I said, “Please forgive my big sister’s straightforwardness, Mu.” I reached over to fill his glass, but he quickly covered it with his hand. “I’m afraid I do not drink,” he muttered, raising his glass to show us its contents. It was Coke.
If he was offended, he was not showing it. He set aflame another cigarette, one of the many since he sat down with us, and took a swig. Mu might not be a drinker, but he was most definitely a voracious smoker.
He inhaled calmly and spewed a puff of smoke and gave Big Sister a fixing look, “True villains, you say? How would you differentiate who’s the villain and who’s not?”