Life

Shu Zi turned around in a daze. He had just glanced to the side without thinking. Had he seen someone familiar on a rooftop?

The feeling of familiarity was so distant that he had completely forgotten where he had seen that person before.

Shu Zi looked toward the rooftop again.

In the glow of the setting sun, it was already empty.

Had he imagined it? Shu Zi thought with some regret. Leaning on his cane, he shuffled away.

His back seemed to have aged several more years.

As he walked, Shu Zi thought about Xiao Hua, whom he had just seen.

There had been so many people gathered around her—so many that Shu Zi couldn't help feeling a little envious.

Because what they showed was genuine admiration.

The people who usually surrounded him, on the other hand, wore only false expressions.

He knew that Xiao Hua had watched him leave, but he couldn't turn back.

There was no going back. He admitted that he had changed. Time could change so many people; no one could remain untouched by forty years.

He was old, so he had compromised on many things and learned to let them go.

How could anyone endure the passage of time?

That was why he thought Xiao Hua was frightening.

Someone who hadn't changed her mind in forty years...

A year later, unrest gradually spread throughout the Human Race's territory. Rebellion could break out at any moment, and Shu Zi was no longer strong enough to put it down. He could barely look after himself.

All he could do was use the God Bow in his hands to keep the threat of force hanging over them and protect his family.

His body and mind had grown too feeble for him to keep chasing power.

Shu Zi surrendered most of his authority, keeping only the empty title of chief.

Half a year later, Shu Zi's life came to an end.

He lay in bed, surrounded by many people.

His wife, his many sons and daughters, his relatives, his subordinates, and a few friends whose sincerity he couldn't be sure of.

As countless faces moved back and forth before him, Shu Zi thought sadly: How many of them truly hoped he would live on?

He felt around, then slowly drew the God Bow from behind him.

The God Bow looked just as it always had. It was, after all, made by the gods, and time had not worn it down at all.

The moment the legendary weapon that had laid the foundation for the entire Human Race appeared, several people gasped.

Countless eyes fixed on the God Bow—greedy, yearning, hopeful, curious.

No one could keep looking at Shu Zi now that the God Bow had appeared.

Shu Zi sneered inwardly.

"Ying Zi, come here! Take it!"

Shu Zi managed to say.

Ying Zi had fallen out with his father over his mother before, but now, hearing that he could inherit the God Bow, he was overjoyed.

The God Bow was no mere weapon. It was a symbol of the Human Race's authority.

Whoever held the God Bow was all but guaranteed to become the next chief.

Just then, a voice came from nearby:

"Father, I won't accept this! I should be the one to wield the God Bow!"

The speaker was a towering, muscular man in his thirties, much younger and stronger than Ying Zi. He was Shu Zi's fifth son.

Ying Zi usually acted as if he didn't care for fame or fortune, but with a divine weapon at stake, he wasn't about to back down. He immediately started arguing with his fifth younger brother.

Shu Zi lay in bed, gasping. It hurt so much. Every inch of his body felt as if it were being sawed back and forth, over and over.

Several times, he had nearly passed out from the pain.

He knew he was close to death. Today, as soon as he had regained a little awareness, he'd hurriedly summoned everyone to arrange his affairs.

Shu Zi watched the people moving back and forth before him.

He was about to die, and they were still squabbling in front of him.

He had worked hard all his life, carving out a place for the entire Human Race and building a vast estate for his own family.

But what good had it done him?

The God Bow, power, children—all of it. Could any of it save him now, as he lay dying?

Ha. What a joke, Shu Zi thought as he watched them stare at the God Bow.

One day, you'll all end up like me.

No matter what you fought over while you were alive, in the end, you couldn't escape... illness, old age, death...

Shu Zi drifted into thought again. There was probably still one person whose attention the God Bow couldn't steal.

But that person... Shu Zi peered through a gap in the crowd. She hadn't come today, either.

In his long life, Shu Zi had met countless members of the tribe. But honestly, not one of them could compare to Xiao Hua.

As he stood on the threshold of death, facing his innermost feelings, Shu Zi had to admit that Xiao Hua truly possessed a stronger spirit than he did.

He couldn't understand it or accept it, but he felt a little envious of Xiao Hua.

How wonderful it would be if I could be like her... unwavering in my beliefs, never retreating, never changing, always pressing forward. That would be a happy life, too...

Shu Zi imagined it, smiled, and quietly closed his eyes.

His sons argued over the God Bow for a long time. Only when someone nearby cried out did they realize that Shu Zi had passed away.

After Shu Zi died, the Human Race fell into chaos.

The God Bow changed hands several times before finally ending up with Shu Zi's fourth son, Luan Zi.

Unfortunately, Luan Zi had strength but little prestige. He was cunning, but had no grand strategy.

He gathered a group of followers around him, but the Human Race's territory was vast, and flames of war had already erupted everywhere.

Shu Zi had been the old chief. He had won the land for them, and his reputation carried weight. While he was alive, he had commanded enough respect that no one dared rebel lightly.

Once Shu Zi died, they ran wild.

Three years later, the Human Race finally split completely into four tribes.

In the central south, occupying Fang Mountain, was the tribe led by Luan Zi. Because it possessed the God Bow, people came to call it the God Bow Tribe.

Another, somewhat larger tribe occupied the vast region between the Great Wilderness and the Si River. It was known as the Wild River Tribe.

The other two tribes were smaller: the Burning Mountain Tribe in the north, and the Giant Stone Tribe along the southern coast.

The tribes were hostile to one another, each watching the others like a hawk.

From then on, the Human Race's realm descended into war.

Meanwhile, Xiao Hua traveled through the fighting, spreading the faith of the Ancestral Deities.

With so many lives hanging in the balance, people were all the more willing to place their hopes in the unseen.

As a result, the Ancestral Deities gained even more devoted believers.

Fifteen years passed. When Xiao Hua was eighty-four, her life, too, came to an end.

Among the Human Race, she had lived to an almost unheard-of age.

She lay in a temple, a building known as the Central Temple. At the junction of the God Bow, Wild River, and Giant Stone Tribes, countless believers had built it brick by brick, braving the dangers of war.

That way, countless believers had somewhere to turn. They came from different tribes, but all worshipped the Ancestral Deities here.

A bed stood in the temple's hall, and Xiao Hua lay upon it.

She was surrounded by countless shamans and believers.

Xiao Hua had become the person they all revered most.

They looked at her with sorrowful faces, as if it were their own loved one who was about to die.

At death's door, Xiao Hua thought of Shu Zi.

"Will he blame me? When he was dying, I was across the Si River, helping the wounded in the war. I couldn't be there for him."

"Whatever happens, we'll see each other soon. After I die, I'll go to the Ancestral Deities."

"I hope he can forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye."

In the Human Race's faith, there was no concept of a soul. Still, they believed that the dead continued to exist and went to the Ancestral Deities.

The Ancestral Deities lived in the Heavenly Realm, a place far better than the world of the living.

There was no war, famine, pain, or sorrow.

Xiao Hua felt her life slipping away, but her spirit was remarkably calm.

She knew she was going to the place where she belonged.

There, besides the Ancestral Deities, there would surely be another, even greater presence.

Her entire life had been devoted to that great presence.

She had lived a life worth living.

For the last time, Xiao Hua raised her thin, frail arm, trembling, toward the sky.

"God, please don't abandon me!"

She shouted the words with all the strength she had left.

The Human Race's Great Shaman passed away in an instant.

Beside her, the sobbing grew louder, soon swelling into a chorus of grief.