Chapter 281

"No, no, no, that's not how it is."

The still-crying child shook his head. "They took him to the New City."

Gautama turned his head slightly:

"... New City?"

The New City is the place where, after Gautama was born, King Suddhodana forcibly moved all the poor people in the country there.

But Gautama seemed not to think much of it, and simply looked at his Teacher and said:

"Teacher, I think he's very scared. We need to send him back to his parents."

"Then let's go together."

After receiving Kavia's permission, the master and disciple went to the village where the child lived.

However, upon arriving at his destination, Gautama was once again shocked by the sight before him: simple, dilapidated thatched Hut, mud-brick dwellings—a series of tragic scenes he had never imagined or witnessed before.

"Please come in, Your Highness, welcome."

A hoarse voice came from the child's father.

Then the middle-aged man, who had suffered greatly, took out a bowl of rice with only a hundred or so grains and a certain smell from inside the house and placed it in front of the two of them.

"This is all our rations, sir. It is our greatest honor that you can partake of it."

Such rarity, such quality— Gautama could tell this was something even the palace livestock wouldn't eat, yet it was this family's entire ration... Therefore, he pursed his lips, looked at the smiling man with his hands clasped together, and asked, neither confirming nor denying:

"How can your family of five, with only this little bit of rice, possibly survive...?"

"What can be done, Your Highness...?"

The man gave a bitter smile, his hands cracked and dry. "We've been working tirelessly day and night, but the harvest isn't increasing. The Crowd's kind enough to help, but... but how much can we really help... And because of that war... their condition isn't good either..."

"... Your child told me before that the soldiers took his brother to the New City?"

Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man looked at Kavia behind Gautama. He naturally understood King Suddhodana's prohibition, so Kavia behind Gautama was naturally regarded as the king's subordinate. He dared not reveal the real reason.

"New City? No, Your Highness, he meant... he meant... yes, the 'Sick Ward.' I heard that patients receive treatment there, cared for by skilled physicians. My eldest son is ill, and we asked a relative to take him there, Your Highness..."

"I see, that's why he kept crying; he loves his brother very much."

Just as Gautama was about to get up and leave, the man called him back.

"Your Highness, you haven't eaten yet..."

Stopped in this way, Gautama, whose eyes were already red, could only sit down and stare blankly at the thin layer of rice grains.

He slowly reached out, took out a grain of rice, and examined it carefully—

"It was a delicious meal, thank you."

While Gautama was in a daze, Kavia, just like him, picked up a grain of rice, put it in her mouth without hesitation, and smiled.

This caused Gautama to be unable to stop crying, and he ate the food along with his tears.

Such quality food is essential for their survival; it's a taste even the animals kept in the Royal Palace find hard to stomach. Yet, despite this, it's incredibly rare, and such people are so numerous throughout the world that they're practically impossible to identify...

Gautama didn't know how he left afterwards. He was in a daze, following behind his Teacher until they reached the riverbank, where he finally came to his senses. Even so, the green-haired youth was still trembling all over, as if he might burst into tears at any moment.

He looked at the Teacher, who seemed to have grown accustomed to it all, his voice trembling:

"How contradictory, Teacher! Some are destitute, even lacking enough food to eat, while others are incredibly wealthy, able to offer gold to Brahmin and sacrifice livestock. Such a stark difference, why...?"

Kavia remained silent, continuing to watch Gautama in quiet contemplation.

"Teacher, we live in a palace, surrounded by luxury and fine clothes. How can we understand the plight of those living in Teacher poverty? You once said that Lord is everywhere, but if He is everywhere, how could He be... defiled by the footprints of people...?"

Everyone says that Lord created the world, so why does He allow Sorrow to fill the earth...?

The Future King of Dharma trembled and made another request to his Teacher.

"Teacher, please take me to the New City."

"Have you come to this realization, Siddhartha?"

"Have!"

The next day, the two arrived in the New City, a city that resembled a prison.

The city walls were pitch black, and a considerable number of soldiers were stationed around them.

However, the moment he entered, Gautama saw a scene no different from 'Hell'.

Countless disabled people and countless Untouchable reside there, hunched over and dragging their backs, creating a dilapidated and foul-smelling street that makes one question whether a person can even survive in it.

"The Lord is the truth."

"The Lord is the truth."

"The Lord is the truth."

"The Lord is the truth."

The people carrying the corpse shouted this.

Gautama looked around, but the people around him all looked at him with fear.

"What's wrong with these people..., Teacher...?"

"Some people always say that they are reaping the consequences of their past sins, Gautama."

"Karma? I've heard that a person's karma determines their wealth or poverty, but these people... are they also experiencing the consequences of their karma...?"

"No, Gautama, these are twisted rules, twisted indiscriminately based on Caste, not wealth or poverty. Only they will experience them, and you will not."

"... I can't? Why? Aren't I a human being too?"

"You--"

"Step on it!"

Just as Kavia and Gautama were talking, an old woman with Wrath appeared in the previously fearful crowd. She was holding a basin and dumped the burning stones inside at Gautama's feet.

"Come on, let's go up!"

Gautama was momentarily puzzled by the source of this hostility and could only stand there dumbfounded.

"Gautama Siddhartha, all our suffering is a consequence of your kindness; let us step over you now!"

"What... what mistake did I make? What crime did I commit...?"

The old woman, her eyes brimming with tears, continued mercilessly:

"Your birth was Evil! Your prophecy that you would become Wheel-Turning King, the King of Dharma, is why your father drove us—the poor, the old, the sick—from the country, deceived us, and built this New City! It's all because of you! It's your sin! We are the victims of your father's dignity, the scapegoats..."

"To keep you from seeing the suffering of the world, we have fallen into this abyss of despair, all because of you. Do you know whose temple was built in this city? The temple of Yama, to please him and free us from suffering."

"... Human nature is so twisted, is it my birth that caused all this...?"

Siddhartha raised his head and looked at the intense Sun. For some reason, even though it was the same as before, it felt incredibly blinding to him.

So, he instinctively walked toward the area full of red-hot stones, intending to step over them as the old woman had suggested.

However--

"Gautama Siddhartha is my disciple, and I naturally bear a part of his sins. Let me take his place in overcoming them."

As soon as he finished speaking, Kavia walked up to Gautama and patted him on the shoulder.

However, Gautama remained silent, stubbornly lying on the scorching stone, allowing Kavia to step over his body.

Because Siddhartha understood that the Flesh pain he felt now was not the same as true suffering, and that there were countless people in the world who suffered because of the Dharma.

That was true, twisted pain.

Afterwards, on the way back to the capital from the New City.

"Teacher, I have something to tell you."

When did I hear that sound...? Kavia pondered.

Please suffer with me.

Under the Bodhi Tree by the Ganges, Gautama spoke these words to Kavia before him.

For those unfortunate people, there is little hope, so I can't offer any more sweet words for this option.

Because it was so hopeless for these people, they understood perfectly well that this choice would only Future to endless suffering.

That's why I want to be with you.

Such thoughts are conveyed in the words of those Savior have not yet attained enlightenment.

However, Kavia knew what Lila was.

For four centuries, no one has been able to overcome the inevitability of the Lila; even if the process differs, the outcome is ultimately predetermined.

Going back to the time of Satya Yuga, Shiva and Sati.

Then, at the Treta Yuga, Rama became the Righteous King.

Or perhaps, in the Dvapara Yuga, the numerous heroes shine like lamps, only to fade into darkness.

The silver-haired youth have seen far too many like them.

Not to mention the many impoverished people who have been regarded as inhuman by the Dharma in every era.

It was precisely because of this 'inevitability' that, for the first time, Gautama Siddhartha saw his Teacher, whom he respected so much, shed the same tears as he had.

The silver-haired youth nodded and smiled at the green-haired youth who had already departed from the path of the Wheel-Turning King, saying:

"Good."

Chapter 336 The Way of the Renunciant.

The capital of Kapilavastu still resounds with the drums of happiness, is scattered with almost endless flowers, and smiles grace the faces of everyone.

This was not the first time Siddhartha had heard such a sound, nor the first time he had seen such a sight.

Even so, he suddenly felt a sense of nostalgia. As he watched flocks of birds fly towards the mountains reddened by the setting sun, he thought of the New City he had just visited.

It was a living Purgatory, a place of ruins and many disabled people for various reasons, with only decay and stench in the streets.

Then, comparing the Royal Palace where he Director to the radiant smiles and lively atmosphere here, the thought that 'everyone is the same, yet they have become like this' filled Gautama with immense sadness.

The eaves and Great Gate are decorated with Divinity objects made of gold, and ornate chess pieces hang above them, fluttering in the air.

"... How many people could possibly survive like this...?"

Gautama suddenly realized that the air he breathed and the stones he stepped on, though real, gave him a sense of elusiveness.

It is precisely because the world is so beautiful, yet some people suffer such fates, that we feel Sorrow and fear arise spontaneously.

After taking a deep breath, the green-haired youth looked firmly at his father, King Suddhodana of Kapilavastu, and asked:

"Tell me, Your Majesty, how many secrets have you been hiding, how much have you concealed about that New City? Have you ever considered what your son will think when he grows up and discovers that because of him, people's homes have been destroyed and they have been displaced? Will he be able to forgive his sins? Will he have no regrets about being born into this world?"

Siddhartha originally wanted to speak to his father in a calm tone, but for some reason, the more he spoke, the more his body and words trembled, and even his eyes couldn't help but turn red.

Knowing that his actions had been exposed, King Suddhodana turned his back to his child, but his tone remained as cold as ever.

"To have a bright Future, one must sacrifice the present. When you ascend the throne, you will give countless people a new home and create a prosperous and glorious era. Only the fortunate people are born under the rule of a wise ruler, and I have always hoped that you will become such a wise ruler."

Siddhartha, you are destined to Wheel-Turning King, and since that great war, you are the only one who can rule the world.

You were born with a Divinity mission, so it is only natural that you must make sacrifices. You are incredibly important.

"But--"

Siddhartha sighed, "While you were cultivating a wise ruler for the people, you yourself became a tyrant. Father, you personally plunged a generation of your people into misery."

The sound of drums drifted from afar, and in contrast to the festive atmosphere, a sense of anxiety filled the room.

"Your Majesty, the King did all that so that you would not suffer from Sorrow."

Seeing the confrontation between father and son, a minister stepped forward to persuade Siddhartha.

"I am overwhelmed with grief, gentlemen. The suffering of the common people because of me fills me with unbearable shame."

Siddhartha looked around at the familiar, prosperous scene and the familiar people, and couldn't help but think of those who were suffering in the sea of misery.