What Kind of Person to Become

The war had ended so suddenly, and peace had come just as naturally. As Sian wandered aimlessly outside the Bloodhoof great tent, his head was still spinning, as though he had yet to wake from that disaster.

Watching the weary-faced people coming and going, he suddenly felt as though a lifetime had passed.

The emptiness in his heart seemed to remind him that a part of his soul had been left behind in that war forever.

He did not know whether that was good or bad, but he felt that he should have grown somehow.

The little Tauren sat dejectedly on the ground, fiddling with the withered grass and pebbles by his hooves.

This place had once been a beautiful meadow, with a sunlit hillside blanketed in tender green grass.

In the mornings, An'she always cleared away every last drop of gathered dew, leaving the whole slope warm beneath the sunlight. At night, the thick carpet of grass could hold the warmth from the day for quite a while.

So, except on rainy days, the village children loved rolling around on the ground no matter the time.

Their favorite thing was to roll all the way down from the top of the slope. Sometimes several little calves would bump into each other and tumble into an even bigger ball of fluff, their giggles trailing all the way to the foot of the hill.

When they grew tired of playing, they could catch crickets hiding in the grass. If they were lucky, they might even run into Cairne Bloodhoof. The chieftain would smile and greet the children through the window, and when he had the time, he would even play with them for a little while. The lively young bulls always begged the chieftain to play games of strength.

A group of little calves would crane their necks, their faces flushed red, excitedly using clumsy arithmetic to count how many children their chieftain could carry at once. The little heifers were somewhat more reserved. They would pick pretty flowers and tuck cute little yellow blossoms into the braids that symbolized glory for their beloved chieftain, dressing him up beautifully—well, beautifully in their eyes.

Cairne never got angry. He happily accepted those well-meaning little flowers every time. Sometimes he got so busy that he forgot to take them off, and ended up wearing them for days.

Seeing his tall, strong father wearing those silly little yellow flowers, Baine sometimes felt terribly embarrassed. But Sian thought it was rather nice. Wasn't a chieftain loved by children very cool?

Those days had always been happy, but Cairne was always busy, so there were not many such chances.

The chieftain should be busy now as well, thanking those guests who had come from afar.

Master was arranging a small banquet in the tent. Sian had originally gone to visit Baine, but Master was feeling a little unwell, so he helped her with some of the work. After all, roasting meat was one of the skills his mother had taught him best.

Under Master's praise, he shyly prepared some ingredients. The finest meat was served to the guests, while the foul-tasting innards were not wasted either. Master would pickle and dry them, then distribute them along with the rest to everyone in the village.

Sian sighed. Who would have thought that Chieftain Tangtang's home could not even produce a decent bottle of wine? If not for the gains from the hunt a few days ago, this already modest banquet would have been even more shabby.

"What are you spacing out about, little one?"

A deep, heavy voice came from nearby. Sian looked up to see Uncle Hamuul smiling at him while holding a small jar.

"Where are Tally and Carl? Why aren't you going to play with Baine and Xiao Na?"

"Mom and Dad kicked me out. They seemed to have something private to discuss and thought I was in the way, so they told me to go wherever it was cool..."

Sian pursed his lips. "I just went to visit Baine. That guy wasn't grateful at all. He was already lying in bed, yet he still kept whining and complaining that I hadn't brought Xiao Na with me. Seriously..."

Hamuul grinned. "Look at my memory. Xiao Na should be busy preparing for the Winter Veil ceremony too. Reconstruction must continue, but the teachings of the ancestors cannot be forgotten!"

Hamuul lovingly rubbed little Sian's head.

"Who would have thought everyone would be so busy worrying about everything, while our little hero ended up being the freest one?" Though he said that, there was not the slightest hint of blame in his voice.

"Since you're so bored, how about coming to a banquet with me?" Hamuul raised the jar in his hand and pointed toward the chieftain's tent.

"That wouldn't be good... It's an occasion for adults... They probably wouldn't like a little kid like me going in there and causing trouble..."

Sian awkwardly rubbed his fingers together. He actually really wanted to go in and see the excitement. After all, it was his first time seeing living, breathing Night Elves.

"Haha, it's fine, it's fine. Tamara told me that you worked hard to help out. After a tiring day, how could you not be rewarded with something delicious? Come in with me. If the guests ask, just say you're my adorable little grandson. How about it?"

Sian rolled his eyes. If I'm his little grandson, then wouldn't Bashana be the same generation as my mother? How am I supposed to hold my head up in front of my friends after that? That idiot Baine will definitely seize the chance to laugh me into nothing.

He had always thought Hamuul was slow-moving and dull. He possessed wisdom in his heart and was an elder worthy of great respect. But ever since Little Guff had been born, that image had undergone earth-shaking changes. Not only had the dullness vanished, but even the wisdom seemed to be gradually disappearing.

Still, Sian was used to this strange sense of dissonance. According to Baine's inside information, the imposing High Chieftain Cairne Bloodhoof had apparently been fanatically obsessed with rock music in his youth. He had even formed a band with another like-minded friend.

What was that band called again?

Oh, right—The Tauren Chieftains.

According to Baine, when he heard that bizarre revelation, his mouth had hung open wide enough to fit an entire pineapple.

What else could anyone say? Everyone had been young once, hadn't they?

Sian stared at Hamuul for quite a while without figuring out how to respond. But Hamuul misunderstood. He thought little Sian was staring at the jar, so he smiled and explained.

"We can't let the guests laugh at us. They came all this way to help, only to not even get a sip of wine. Besides, Xiao Na is still so young. Once food becomes plentiful again, I'll brew some more. It should still be ready in time for the wedding..."

So the chieftain had gone to Hamuul to borrow wine. Without a second word, Hamuul had brought out this old wine, which he had never considered touching even during the famine. The wax seal on the jar looked like it had been there for quite some time. Hamuul held the jar to his nose and took a deep breath.

"Mmm, it smells good. I don't think even the pickiest guest could refuse it. Still, it's a little hard to part with. I had originally planned to keep it hidden until the day my daughter got married..."

Hamuul spoke reluctantly, as though the jar carried incredibly precious memories.

"Ah, when you get old, you start thinking about all sorts of nonsense... They're both little calves who haven't even started growing yet!" Hamuul suddenly slapped his forehead, then chuckled. "Sorry, little one. I originally wanted to let you have a taste too, but you're not old enough to drink. You can't pick up the bad habit of drinking too much while you're still so young."

"Father let me try a little before. Weak wine is bitter, and strong wine is spicy. It doesn't taste good at all, nowhere near as good as corn juice. I really don't know why adults like that kind of drink." Sian shook his head.

Hamuul sighed meaningfully. "Well... I think Carl has told you too. You'll understand the taste of wine when you grow up."

"Tch..." Sian stuck out his tongue in disdain. He had heard that line for two lifetimes.

Hamuul smiled and rubbed little Sian's head. "What's wrong, little one? Is something bothering you? Can you tell me about it?"

Sian suddenly froze. After thinking carefully, he realized that if Uncle Hamuul had not reminded him, he might never have noticed the trouble in his heart. He had always thought it was trauma from the war, but it was not that serious. It was merely the pent-up unhappiness of a child.

It was a worry that had troubled him ever since the Night Elves appeared. Those elves who had come to help had arrived too late, resolving everything like gods descending to the world only when it was nearly over. Sian could not stop himself from imagining that if they had appeared just a little earlier, perhaps there would have been fewer casualties in the war, perhaps his mother might have had a chance to survive.

Reason constantly condemned him, telling him how despicable such thoughts were. Yet his fragile emotions always told him—this was only human nature. There was nothing wrong with what he thought.

So he carefully confided his true feelings to Hamuul.

"I was thinking... if they could have appeared just a little earlier... If only they had come a little earlier..."

Little Sian closed his eyes. He had expected Hamuul to rebuke him, but Hamuul neither scolded nor despised him. He merely set the wine jar aside gently, then sat down beside Sian.

"The High Priestess was right. You really are a kind, good child."

Hamuul patted little Sian on the back and smiled. "Hold your head high. If even you cannot proudly hold your head high, then how will those people you saved face the ancestors?"

"The fact that you can ask me this question proves that you already have the answer in your heart."

Hamuul nodded, gently poking the little one's forehead as he smiled. "What is right, what is wrong, what is justice, what is evil, what is glory... You have long had the answers to all of these in your heart."

Sian shook his head. "I don't know, Uncle Hamuul... I'm so confused. My head tells me I should treat all of this kindly, but my heart shamefully wants more. I... I don't know which one I should listen to. I'm afraid I'll become a petty person, someone shameful!"

Hamuul smiled and shook his head. "Silly child, how could you be someone shameful? Let me ask you this—would you doubt someone's motives simply because they showed you unprovoked kindness?"

Sian shook his head and answered without hesitation, "Of course not. She helped me, and that kindness is enough reason for me to be grateful. That reason does not need anything mixed into it. It is pure! Baseless suspicion would only demean it!"

"See? I told you that you already had the answer in your heart!"

Hearing Sian say that, Hamuul burst into laughter, so delighted that his beard trembled nonstop.

"Don't worry about those little misgivings. Just as every Shu'halo hopes tomorrow will be bright and sunny, tomorrow may in fact be cloudy, windy, or even rainy. But we do not hate those little flaws just because they represent imperfection. Everyone still lives happily every day, don't they?"

Sian suddenly understood. He hurriedly stood up and bowed to Hamuul.

"Thank you for your guidance, Uncle Hamuul. I will remember your words in my heart and never forget them for the rest of my life!"

Hamuul smiled and shook his head. "I did not help you with anything. The most important thing was that you chose what kind of person you wanted to become."

He stood up, swished his tail, dusted the dirt from his backside, and extended a hand toward Sian.

"Come on, little one. Let's go to the banquet. I need to hurry and deliver this jar of wine to Cairne, or the chieftain's image will be completely ruined!"

Hamuul shook his head with a smile. "Tsk, tsk. Going door to door begging for wine—what kind of hopeless chieftain would do something like that..."