Tidewatcher

Jiang Canghai's music served as the village's signal for festivities. Whenever the children heard the melodies drifting closer from the seashore, they would cheer and run toward their "Master of the Tides." Riding a nimble wooden horse and wielding a floral spear like a dragon, Jiang Canghai would puff his cheeks, blow a joyous tune, and stride toward the village where he had put down roots. Amidst his music, the people would dance, laugh, and celebrate the bountiful harvest and auspicious holidays. His myriad tricks and melodies brought boundless joy to the villagers. Yet, in his youth, Jiang Canghai had also played the dirge on two occasions. The first time was before he bid farewell to his master, Zhu Chougong. His master had spotted his talent at a glance among a group of child street performers, whisking him away to teach him martial arts. The master treated him exceedingly well, always wearing a genial smile. Still, Jiang Canghai missed the annual lantern festival in his village and the unfinished wooden pier back home. After several years passed, the master decided to let him go, asking only that the boy accompany him to a funeral. It was the funeral of an old friend of the master. It was said that the two of them had once pulled off an earth-shattering endeavor that could fool the world. Later, this friend opened an antique shop mediocre in every way. Jiang Canghai did not believe it at first. In every respect, his master seemed like nothing more than an eccentric old man; tricking children was one thing, but how could he have partaken in a capital crime? Upon arriving at the funeral, Jiang Canghai finally believed. He began to play a sorrowful elegy, only to receive a gentle smack on the head from his master. "This is a joyous occasion! You silly disciple, play something cheerful!" The "deceased" was sitting merrily before his own coffin, pulling the master into boisterous laughter, beating a basin and singing a song of transcendence. Jiang Canghai did not understand, but he played to his heart's content. So, an elegy could also become a melody of joy. He smiled too, blowing his instrument with even greater fervor, until golden stardust danced before his eyes. The master gave Jiang Canghai a substantial sum of money, then chased after his old friend, departing with a hearty laugh. Weighing the heavy coin pouch in his hand, Jiang Canghai broke into a wide, radiant smile. He thought of going to the town to buy plenty of kites and honey candies, and of helping the village repair that broken pier. The second time was when he returned to his village. The broken bridge, which should have been woven with festive garlands, was now planted with bleak white flowers; the red lanterns that should have hung high were replaced by funeral banners. Granny Sun, who had once taken him in, had gone to the tidal flats the night before and never returned. The fragmented whispers of the villagers echoed in his ears. Only then did he realize that all these years, Granny Sun had been tirelessly searching for him. The sound of the tide drifted from afar, sounding just like the old woman's worried weeping. He could not let Granny Sun depart in tears; he had to let her return to the sea with a smile. Thus, he shook the tears from his face and climbed onto his stilted wooden horse. "Ha! Hear the roar of the Yellow River!" Jiang Canghai blew the most impassioned theatrical tune. Marching with the vigorous steps of a galloping steed, he twirled his floral spear, honoring his appointment at a grand celebration. Thus, a melody of joy could also become an elegy. The villagers all wept, yet he played with even greater fervor, until the golden stardust once again danced before his eyes. Later, Jiang Canghai moved to the seaside and took up the moniker of "Tidewatcher." He guarded the tidal flats, gazing at the ocean, still dancing his steps and playing his tunes. He would still return to the village to join the festivities, bringing fresh fish and shrimp to the locals. He believed that those who watched the tide and the sunrise every day held a brighter light in their hearts than others. He would use his tricks and melodies to bring everyone more laughter, or perhaps tears. In those moments where laughter and tears danced together, he felt as though he had returned to the days of old. His master, Granny Sun, and the villagers were all gathered in one place, applauding for him.