Father loves to listen to operas, so naturally he knows many mysterious stories from the operas. Therefore, many times, Father can act as a storyteller. The stories he remembers are very attractive to me, who had nothing entertaining at that time. Among Father's collection of "storybooks," I particularly love the story of the Impermanence Lord. Father said:
"Black represents evil, white represents good. The division between good and evil is the constant of impermanence.
The names of the two soul-retrieving messengers are derived from this." Therefore, I have always believed that everything can be clearly divided into good and evil, each controlled by the two messengers. I am quite proud of this because when I say these words, I feel like a philosopher.
But this concept is ultimately naive and cannot withstand the test of reality.
Since I can remember, I have always lived in Chixian County, so the things I see, hear, and feel are limited to within the walls of Chixian County. In this sense, I am a person with narrow vision and shallow knowledge. However, even so, a considerable part of what I have seen, heard, and felt in this county can be considered as extraordinary stories.
In order to make a living, it is inevitable for people to leave their hometowns. Although Chixian County can be considered abundant in resources, it is still difficult to avoid this. However, the people in the county have some criticisms about this behavior. Although the majority of people are making a living, there are also people who look down on the narrow-mindedness of Chixian County and leave to seek pleasure. So from this perspective, some criticism is understandable. But when this criticism becomes extremely harsh and biting, I suddenly feel a sense of fear as if death is approaching.
Father has a friend from the opera, who makes a living by rowing boats. I have seen him a few times: he is in his sixties or seventies, not tall, but very thin. People with such an appearance are usually private tutors, not hardworking laborers like him, so he left a deep impression on me. However, in this deep impression, more than half of it is not good. He is very feudal and has a sharp tongue, always finding harsh words to ridicule others, even his own son is not spared. Every time he returns home, he cannot escape being scolded as an unfilial descendant who has forgotten his ancestors. I despise him on one hand, but on the other hand, I am curious about why Father is friends with such a person. But Father seems to not care, he just says it's like-mindedness, that he has found a kindred spirit.
One year in January, someone in Huanzhen Town ate something evil and a lung disease spread. He usually travels around, but unexpectedly, he also contracted this evil disease. The doctor left a few prescriptions and hurriedly left without explaining anything. His wife was very worried, afraid that something bad would happen to him. But he had something more important than seeking treatment--
The play on the second day of the second lunar month.
However, the illness worsened day by day. The town's Qingtian Grand Lord inexplicably lost his black hat. Although we common people dare not comment on politics, we all understand that this matter is related to the lung disease. So everyone felt threatened, and those who made a living in the town rushed back to the county for refuge. The people in the county, who already had some criticisms, now seemed to have encountered a rare opportunity and began to speak ill of their fellow countrymen seeking refuge. In this resistance, the boatman seemed to be at the forefront, revealing his cruelty and venom, because in his eyes, these people had forgotten their ancestors and deserved criticism. More importantly, they might prevent him from enjoying the play, which was unacceptable.
The boatman's son naturally became a scapegoat again, but this time, he was not the only target. But in fact, although the boatman's son had earned a lot of wealth in the town, he did not show off or live extravagantly. On the contrary, he often helped the people in the village. When the county was building embankments, he donated a lot of stones. Therefore, the people in the county collectively benefited from his kindness, but now they turned their backs on him, which was truly despicable.
The county's clinic quickly became crowded with people seeking treatment, whether they were wealthy gentry or laborers in short coats, each with an anxious expression, waiting for the doctor to prescribe them miraculous medicine. Although the old boatman was stubborn, he was still afraid of death. So he joined the group of anxious people. But he seemed to be the most anxious one. Seeing that the line seemed endless, he ran to the front in three or two steps, forcing the doctor to diagnose him first. The doctor naturally refused, so he started punching and kicking. Even though he was already old, his punches were still fierce. I felt angry and looked at Father, who just shook his head and sighed, saying indifferently, "Don't meddle in other people's business." I looked at the several gentry who usually talked about benevolence and morality, but they just stood there with their hands behind their backs, continuing their conversation as if they hadn't seen anything.
In the end, the boatman won and left with the prescription. When he passed by me and Father, he suddenly stopped, and I felt his gaze on me. But I could only lower my head and look away, not daring to speak.
"As a token of our friendship, I'll let you copy a prescription. So that your son won't die young."
He suddenly said these words. Father didn't refuse, just thanked him. Although I remained silent, my heart was in turmoil. In that instant, I couldn't distinguish whether he was good or evil.
Because Father had the prescription, our whole family stayed at home, brewing medicine to prevent illness and rarely went out. The resistance of the people in the county continued. Every night, there were annoying barks and heart-wrenching cries. I couldn't sleep all night, tossing and turning, thinking about the stories of the Black and White Impermanence. Father once said:
"White Impermanence governs good, bringing good luck to those who are grateful and respectful to the gods; Black Impermanence governs evil, showing no mercy to those who violate the law."
I pondered over and over again, isn't this world divided into good and evil? Yet I have witnessed contradictory things. This plunged me into long-lasting sadness. If one day the Black and White Impermanence came to retrieve souls, who would control the fate of the boatman, the gentry, and the spectators who kill with words? I believe the two messengers from the underworld would be as troubled as me because of the complexity of the mortal world!
After more than a month, the play that Father had been looking forward to since the Lunar New Year finally began. As usual, he went to discuss the matter of taking a boat with his old friend. However, when he entered, he saw the family dressed in mourning clothes. Upon asking, he learned that the boatman had died from his lung disease. Father wasn't very sad, just worried that he wouldn't have a boat to take. However, the boatman's son said he would return in glory, take care of his mother, and take over his father's job.
Father had another young friend.
Perhaps my naive belief is not wrong,
the world is indeed divided into good and evil,
but how can people only see things in black and white?
If one firmly believes in black or white,
then all that is seen will be darkness.