The Tedious Cup—Best Man: On Lin Xiao
Review author: Too Quiet
The scenery south of the Yangtze was lovely—how could you understand? Life was far too hasty; one season of wildness was enough. On lonely nights, rain fell outside the window. All I could do was drive away boredom and hide away the shell of loneliness. I turned my gaze toward the profound starry sky, for that was the direction men pursued, their paradise.
The xiao flowed like water, while the flute spoke of love. At the peak of Kunlun, mortal life was distant; all living beings passed through reincarnation. Who could stop it? Who could comprehend it? Different worlds, different settings, different convictions created different values, while different legends spread far and wide. When the past faded and everything came to an end, only those eternal classics still burned silently. That fleeting passion ignited in the heart, vanished in an instant, yet was passed down forever.
From the opening of the story to its final conclusion, Lin Xiao had always carried one central thread: unyielding persistence and undying faith. What kind of state was that? From an unknown youth bullied by others to a full-grown man with an iron will and a forceful manner, how great a price had he paid along the way? And how many could truly understand?
Like an indestructible cockroach, he fought his way from the Human Realm into the Divine Realm, yet the faith born of love in his heart never disappeared. Even when facing an existence he could not overcome, he still dared to step forward. How much courage did that take? For someone who had spent his childhood handling medicine jars, killing had always violated a healer's professional ethics. Yet some things could only be done, never spoken of.
Between cycles of reincarnation, the past had vanished, but the face in his dreams grew ever clearer. Meanwhile, his powerful enemies became increasingly heaven-defying. The bond of this life, the bond of the next; seas turned to fields and fields to seas, and in the end they became a couple. The twists and turns, the fires of war, the backbone to fly into a rage for the sake of a beauty—all of it fully showed a man's sense of responsibility.
Lin Xiao did not possess Feng Zi's schemes and ruthlessness honed from struggling since childhood. He did not possess Yi Chen's world-turning methods and coldness, nor Long Zhan's iron-blooded slaughter. He lacked Xia's dominance and tenderness, Fang Wen's cunning born of living two lives, and Lin Ke's lofty starting point.
He had only the pursuit and storms that followed him all the way, a life of drifting through rise and fall. He struggled to survive amid filthy plots, struggled to live beneath powerful forces, and even when he knew he was outmatched, he still fought for his faith.
What was that? It was the courage born after faith had burned, the bravery of a man who persisted. Burning blood, burning faith—he pressed on without hesitation just to see Yao'er in the Divine Realm once more; for that single glance before the Buddha, for that kowtow before the mountain, for the laughter within the mountain, for the companionship that had once been so familiar.
He commanded no army of millions, nor did he wield strange troops to slaughter his foes. He possessed only the courage and persistence forged through hardship. At times, he too had been lost. He wondered why this world contained so much darkness, why life was so unfair. He was confused by strength and by the formation of his own power. In the end, he understood: this was a world where fists did the talking.
A calm state of mind was fine. A detached attitude was fine. But persistence could not be abandoned, and faith could not be cast aside. That face in his heart could not be given up. One could not remain detached in battle, nor could one's fighting spirit be detached.
Through all his experiences, Lin Xiao told us that as a man, one needed a courageous heart. Genius and talent were not the most important factors in success. What mattered was persistence, courage, and the determination and courage to smash everything before one's eyes.
Lin Xiao did not possess the grand ambition of "After ten years of melancholy, the beams of the house collapse; raging waves suddenly rise from the edge of courage. Heroic spirit pierces the sun and moon, as though a rainbow has transformed into an eagle." He had only the sentiment of "Suffering in the mortal world, painting a beautiful face. Floating clouds danced lightly. Love could not be rejected, love bound them together; I envied only mandarin ducks, not immortals." Yet in my eyes, he was the bravest man in all of Zhu Tou's books.
Once he struck, he never looked back. Yet that hand that could turn clouds and rain—who was it waiting for to save him? Waiting for whom? Waiting for himself to wake up. That was Lin Xiao's answer. Firm and resounding, beyond question. If he himself lacked confidence in victory, if he himself abandoned that trace of faith, how could he face the brothers who had followed him all the way? How could he face Yao'er's past and present lives? How could a man bear it?
What did the vast heavens ask of me? The galaxy was bleak, the great river flowed on. I did not ask for the world's pity, only to take my enemy's head. Half a lifetime of hot blood spilled across the sky, singing loudly all the way through slaughter. What was the world beneath nine thousand miles? None under heaven could compare to Xiao Yao.
Being a person was not easy.
Being a man was even less easy.
Being a good man was especially difficult.
Grudges and love, loyalty and betrayal—countless threads of karma intertwined.
Amid the boundless mortal world and the myriad worlds, one had to preserve one's original heart unchanged.
One had to keep that original heart from deliberately harming or deceiving others.
That was a good person.
And if a good person could treat one woman well for a lifetime,
that was a good man.
Without a doubt, Lin Xiao was a good man.
As for whether he was a good protagonist, that was a matter for the benevolent and the wise to judge. (To be continued)