Chapter 12 – Blindman Fishing (1)

Before Chinese Tunic came, I only thought that the Old Blindman that Grandpa mentioned was just a regular yin yang master. As I learned more about yin yang and metaphysics, I started to think that Old Blindman was extraordinary. It was even possible that the Old Blindman who’d given Grandpa that copper pipe was the half-mad, half-demonic, and half-godly Blind Liu that Chinese Tunic had mentioned.

One day, Grandpa was wiping his treasured pipe again. I asked him about this.

Grandpa didn’t admit or deny it. He lit the pipe and started talking about Old Blindman in detail for the first time:

When Grandpa was eight years old, Great-grandma got a cough disease. When Great-grandpa went to the city to get medicine, he was captured to be a physical laborer and disappeared. The family’s pillar collapsed. Great-grandma was wrought with sickness and Great-grandpa’s disappearance broke her heart. Her condition kept declining. Before dying, she gave Grandpa to a family relative. Grandpa called that man Seventh Uncle.

Seventh Uncle was an old bachelor and had wanted Grandpa to be his heir, so he treated Grandpa well at first. But two years later, he found a wife with mental disabilities from another village. Seventh Uncle was already old, but he was still quite strong. Two years later, the poor woman gave birth to a healthy son. With his own son, his adopted one naturally became trash.

Grandpa was still a kid at the time and didn’t have much strength to work. He was just another mouth to feed. In anger, Seventh Uncle kicked Grandpa out. But Grandpa was stubborn and was able to survive by being a beggar in the nearby villages.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Ten years passed in a blink. Ten years later, a three-year drought came to Shili Village. There was no harvest at all. Add war to that and more than half of the villagers starved to death. All the strong, young men escaped. Only the elderly and young were left to wait to die.

Having grown up as a beggar, Grandpa had been weak already. He didn’t even have the strength to escape, so he could only wait to die in the village.

That day, an old blind man came to Shili. It was obvious that he was here to beg. He also had something on his back, wrapped in black fabric. It seemed big—almost as tall as the blind man himself. At that time, Grandpa had just scratched down some tree bark to gnaw on. He thought that the blind man was pitiful, so he offered half of it. The blind man sniffed it and gave it back, seemingly in disgust.

“You don’t know what’s good for you,” Grandpa said, grabbing the tree bark. “Shili’s already had drought for three years. I had to steal this bark from a whole group of people. It’s not like I want to give it to you. When you get into the village, you’re not even going to get half a piece of bark.”

“Does your village have a leader?” the blind man asked.

“No, they all escaped. Only people who can’t escape are still here.”

Old Blindman faced the village and calculated for a bit. “Is there an old well on the east side?”

“Yeah,” Grandpa said. “The ancestors left that here. People say it’s never run dry before. The drought’s been three years, right? We depended on the well for the first two years. But the third year, it was honestly too bad and it dried up. That’s why everyone gave up and fled.”

“Bring me to that well,” Blindman said.

“No way. After gnawing on this tree bark, I can last half a day without moving. If I have to walk to the east side, I’ll definitely get dizzy from hunger again.”

Old Blindman took out a steamed bun. Offering it to Grandpa, he said, “If you bring me there, this will be yours. Won’t it make you fuller than that piece of bark?”