Chen Tu

At first, the folks back home couldn't wrap their heads around Chen Tu's return. To them, he had gone through so much trouble just to pass the exams and get into Mohist City. Why on earth would he go through all that only to crawl right back to this poor, backward village? "Tu, my boy, you worked so hard to get out of here. Have you lost your wits?" Old Uncle Lin was heartbroken. He was the one who had given Chen Tu three precious eggs to support his studies back in the day. "Brother Tu, I heard Mohist City is a prosperous place. You really didn't want to stay?" asked Zhang Wa, pausing his plow with a look of deep regret. Others were more hot-headed, swearing that if Chen Tu had been bullied in the city, they would risk their lives to teach those city folks a lesson. None of their guesses were right, but the more he denied them, the more the rumors spread. Like bundles of firewood being fed into a stove, the gossip brought the normally quiet village to a rolling boil. And the news that Chen Tu wanted to turn their village into "the Haven" was like dropping a massive boulder into that boiling pot, splashing scalding water everywhere. "The Haven is supposed to be up in the heavens. How could a godforsaken place like ours ever be a Haven?" "Tu, is your head feeling alright? Don't worry, your uncle will take you to see a doctor right now..." Chen Tu truly had a headache now. It wasn't that he hadn't tried to explain, but the villagers didn't understand engineering, and words just weren't enough. So he simply started working on his own. Taking out the irrigation blueprints his junior, Anshi, had once drawn for him, he began digging and moving dirt, step by step. Even if it felt as impossible as the mythical Jingwei bird trying to fill the ocean with pebbles, he kept at it. Seeing this, the villagers only thought he had gone completely mad. One day, two days, a month, two months. All by himself, with a single iron spade, Chen Tu barely managed to carve out one small channel. But according to the blueprint, there were many more channels to dig. Rubbing his aching shoulders, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of despair at the sheer scale of the task. "Move aside. You really are a city boy now." Suddenly, someone snatched the spade from his hands. Chen Tu looked up to see Zhang Wa leaning casually against the handle. "Which way?" "Which way for what?" "For that irrigation blueprint of yours. Which way do I dig?" Chen Tu snapped back to reality and quickly pointed out a direction. He looked over and saw the rest of the village walking toward him. Madam Wen, the best cook in the village, had brought a basket of food. Old Uncle Lin had gathered some eggs. Other villagers were marching over, waving hoes and rakes. One by one, their figures spread across the fields like droplets of water seeping into the thirsty earth. Chen Tu thought to himself: perhaps this was the true source of the Haven.

Chen Tu had spent his entire life crossing one hurdle after another. In the past, to join the Mohists, he had endured countless nights studying until his oil lamp burned dry. After entering the sect, he buried himself in the study of mechanics day and night. Later, when he decided to return home, the hurdles he had already crossed became entirely new challenges. But he had crossed them all in the end. All those past hardships had faded away like smoke, leaving behind only his worn Mohist disciple's robe as a quiet testament to his journey. At first, Chen Tu had planned to simply take the robe with him to the grave. But on second thought, he remembered his apprentice, that quiet, silly lad. Aside from this robe, he really had nothing else of value to leave behind for the boy. So, Chen Tu folded the robe carefully and set it aside. That kid hadn't even been to Mohist City yet. Since this robe was a relic of the city, it could serve as a keepsake. And if the boy decided he didn't want to go in the future, that was fine too. Everyone has their own hurdles to cross in life. Chen Tu was merely a guide for one short stretch of the boy's journey. Keep moving forward, kid! Perhaps one day, that silly lad would cross his own hurdles and see even more beautiful sights. Chen Tu only hoped that when that time came, this tattered disciple's robe could keep the boy company in his stead.