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http://scp-int.wikidot.com/la-naissance-d-un-immortel The Birth Of An Immortal

登仙

魏蜀吴三国,奋争衰汉鹿
人间淬火中,边界数重筑
云有岿阳生,少年亦和睦
云观其众徒,一一从轮辐

汤汤河水,筑室其边
久隐避乱,乐莫桃源
爰修茶道,因受翼乎古魏
然神州尽流赤,氓心浊黖
一旦取于暴,厥名今言弃
圣贤皆何若?战车碾过黄花地

其人攫锐钢,其艺坏其方
善语众随也,捐躯为国殇
忽见煤烟飘烬坠,但馀苦恨断肠泪

[ 不知其时 ]
余犹记童子首问曰:“何意神尽丧耶?”便告之曰此本天命也。
其人确为聪慧。爰递十载,余徒已少壮。为之傲,为之颔首。

协洽1之年,三月晦日
The last battle news rumble at our door. A pitiful scrap of the army went through the sect's lands, yesterday during all the rooster hour. Who knows which kingdom has suffered from disgrace, neither how many men will never come back to their homes. Meon Zhi has wanted to chase away these deserters because they shame our country. I have strictly forbidden him: our knowledge must not be used to punish some poor wretches preferring the sight of their children to the guts and crows one.

协洽之年, 四月望日
Today, Wei's men came. They wanted soldiers. We aren't soldiers.
The dean gave them the rice from the northern pond. According to Lin Tze, who manages the stock, we will have to ensure the sparing use of it to pass the year without hunger.

协洽之年,六月初七
I had a debate with my disciple this morning. We talked until the sun started setting below the river. He wanted my opinion about China and the role of our knowledge in the conflicts. I answered according to our principles, here, at the wave house. Do not influence the events, do not narrow from the tradition. He didn't agree: for him, Taoism had to restore the world order by unifying China, like at Han' era. He was still a child in his adult body, he will understand later what the word "war" really implies. I hope he won't repeat the same errors as me at my twenties, the loss of an arm would be a terrible price to pay for such a talented person.
The tea reflects thoughts. This evening, Meon Zhi's one was blurred. I lectured him with benevolence. He's a brilliant young man, he thinks a lot.

协洽之年,七月初四
The soldiers came back, then left again. They don't dare defy the wave house, the powerful Kuiyang sect's fiefdom.

协洽之年,七月廿七
The Yellow River has been angry for a week. My bedstraw must have taken root again, after soaking that much in the mud. The dikes which protected us from the last flood have collapsed one after the other, and the crop has been completely drowned.
Meon Zhi was furious the masters did nothing. I narrated to him again the story of the man who wanted to stop the sea. He retorted that, unlike the tale's man, we had the knowledge to halt the flood, and got offended. I punished him two days to having reconsidered one of our principles and raised his voice on his master.
This disaster was in the world order, we have to resign ourselves to it. Lao Tse was saying in the Dao De Jing, "We had to find the way", and not twist it by selfishness.
There is no worst thing that wanting to avoid misfortune, it only invariably brings a bigger one.

协洽之年,八月初旬
My disciple discreetly slipped away this night. He went through the old shaky plank to slip along the pilings. He lacks experience: the old Fu never lands with that drunk cow sound, even with an alcohol half-filled earthenware jar in the stomach.
I guess young Ming and Yon have the same fried carp look than him at this time.

协洽之年,聿逢重阳
There is smoke in the direction of Xi'an, at about sixty Li from here. This time, it's way closer. The rumors circulate at the wave house. A whisper stopped near my ear: "what if we had to fight ?"

协洽之年,九月二十
It has been three nightly getaway in one week. I would like this young imprudent to stop taking the study of founding texts for a nap and his writing case for a convenient way of resting his forehead. Although he is especially talented, it doesn't dispense him to be studious.
I have nailed the plank, sorry for the old Fu. Slight pain in the right foot remains, but who never hit his fingers on such a work? For an armless person, I consider myself quite skilled.

协洽之年,九月二十
Lin Tze has been brought back the head covered of blood. The farmers have found him on the path, five Li away from here. He had gone to resupply us, alone like he was used to, and had run into robbers.
The region is less sure since the fights got closer. The dean has forbidden exits beyond the protective gate. But we will still have an exemption to go and sell the result of our work, without which we won't pass the season.

协洽之年,十月初八
The plank is unsealed again, and the nail box has mysteriously transformed itself in a magnificent block of veined blue jade. Impressive, a great alchemist knowledge is required to get a result like this. But this exploit won't prevent a remarkable remonstrance.

协洽之年,建子2十四
The staw hats sell out quite well at the market: numerous travelers pass through the river. Everyone starts working a little in the evening, after dinner. Masters and disciples have the hands calloused, but it's allowing us to feed ourselves, so everyone get down to it willingly. I, who have only one hand left, feel despicable to eat the result of such hard work. So, to give them strength, I sing the old times exploits.

Appeared one day under the sky
The dragons and the powers
That was the legends era
Then came the yellow emperor
So begins the Shiji's history
Listen to this tale from the times when magic ruled

协洽之年,除月廿二
Remote members of the sect asked for hospitality. What have they come to do? They are a bit strange. I think they come from Shu.
Nobody knows how long they are planning to stay.

协洽之年,除月廿七
Meon Zhi has beaten me at the game of weiqi. He is, of course, boasting all along the banks.
Despite the names of "old" and "infirm killjoy" he gives me, I feel a dash of pride. It wasn't completely the child I had been given anymore.

涒滩之年3,时维元旦
A new year begins. Something changed between the two cycles. I don't know what.

涒滩之年,正月廿一
It's been an entire moon since the visitors are under our roof. Discontentment growths among us, we don't get to eat at our fill anymore. Rumors say they were sent to weaken us. I rather think they are seeking some secrets.
The Han' old legacy never had safer guardian than the wave house. It has been centuries it is lost, and everything is better this way.

Words of this forgotten song get back into my head:
Spin the time and weave the fire
You, the legacy of the lost kingdoms
Accomplish the request from the depths of time
Death and desolation

涒滩之年,二月初三
There was a quarrel outside, during the lesson time. Shouts in the bamboos high leaves bordering the rivers. My disciple seemed worried. More exactly, he seems elsewhere since this morning. Something I don't know happened.

涒滩之年,二月初六4
Some of our community members chased away the strangers this night. At the morning, only some quickly-abandoned possessions and reddish purple splashes soiling the purity of the spirits enclosure remained. How anyone following the Way would have made themselves guilty of such an abject act? Who dared to stain the round room of blood? Who could ever have let the violence enter into the very image of the world from which we pull off our knowledge? I have never seen the dean that furious. His too numerous years hasn't allowed him to end his diatribe. Our hearts remain heavy of seeing this disaster weighting that much on the old sage's chest.
The next three cycles will be dedicated to the purification of the spirits enclosure. I don't have the right to participate since it's usually crucial rituals. From all the masters, I will be the only one to stay outside of the ceremonies. The infirmity makes me an impure being.
I will help as I can.

涒滩之年,四月十八
A salesman dropped in today. We bought him some scented resin for the rites. He told us of his journeys along the silk road, between two merchant sales-talk. The young were fascinated to learn that far, where the sun was setting, people spoke and used magic differently. I had knowledge of these strange traditions from my youth adventures, thanks to a soldier five years older than me who prayed, before every battle, for an entity which stopped living and dying by awakening itself. He had a little figurine made of painted wood and had laughed hard when I made him notice his "Buddha" seemed rather sleepy with his half-closed eyelids.
Now that I have gray hair, what I used to consider as a funny superstition seems taking a brand new sense. I am now telling myself this distant religion is the skewed interpretation of the instructions guiding Kuyiang. The Awakening wouldn't be a different way to consider immortality? The very fact that the salesman reports mages' existence proves there is an element of truth. Elsewhere, how to explain they can channel the flows without even knowing their existence?
In fifteen times four seasons, I am, of course, far from wisdom, but I have understood many things.

涒滩之年,五月既望
I have heard troubling things. At the usual victory of defeat rumors of one faction or another has been added a weird martial atmosphere. Among the young, above all, I hear more and more people asking themselves if our place isn't at war, like every man of the country of Wei.
More the dean stays in his sleep, more these ideas spread themselves. But will he wake up one day?

涒滩之年,七月二十
Meon Zhi announced to me his wish to fight in Wei's army if the situation continues to get worst.
He had prepared what he wanted to tell me, he seemed to be thinking about it for a long time. He told me about dignity, cowardice, and a lot of China too. The ember usually brewing in his eyes became a flame. I have never seen him being shaky, this is why his ideas make me afraid. I am seeing my former self in this young man.
Where was he the night when the strangers were chased away?

涒滩之年,八月初三
I, Huang Chenzen, Tao master at the wave house, only am a stupid winkle. Meon Zhi is misleading himself. At the rabbit hour, this morning, he turned away from my teaching, pretexting his knowledge of alchemy oversteps mine. He is right.
This young man worries me. Nobody ever has shown such skills so quickly. Can I still teach him my experience if he knows more than me?
I think he is disappointed. He has discovered people could be coward by conviction. He will have to question his worldview one day: the honor, the "people of China", I would not be ready to fight for this. There has been a time when I have thought like that too, but I stopped beguiling myself in illusions since a while.
Sorry, Little Zhi, I am not one of these heroes the Shiji is full of.
Sorry if I shame you.
What a pitiful master is the one who can't guide his disciple.

涒滩之年,八月十二
There is not a single Wu Zhu in our tills anymore.
When money lacks, it is rarely a good foretell.

涒滩之年,十月十日
Hunger has reached us. The offerings, the ceremonies all day long and the bad season which has installed itself dig a chasm in our bodies and spirits. The smallest seed in our now dusty granaries has been cherished like the last treasure of a past of abundance. Our masters have been droning, we have been excavating the soil, searching for anything eatable it could give us. Lessons don't take place any more.

作噩之年5,正月十九
The little Sen has joined his ancestors, praised be them and could their memory stay with us forever. Could the divinities and the immortals look after him through his trip to the hidden world of spirits.
We cried a lot over him. From his six years, he was the youngest among us, and we are now giving back his body to his native soil.

作噩之年,二月二十
Madness lurks into our hungriness. Several times, the dean's ration has been stolen or not even given. Nobody wants to give in their portion anymore.
I sometimes have the impression of being an animal myself, seeing how food is obsessing me.
Meon Zhi uses his control over the flows to hunt, I know it. Everybody knows, everybody does. But he is, by far, the best. Without him, we would probably be bits of skin on very thin bones already.
Disputes are numerous. Screams are thrown, and the wave house is not a home anymore, but a tight spot where avoiding others is a permanent challenge.
We are realizing, day after day, how terrifying hunger is.

作噩之年,二月晦日
An army of Wei has passed near our lands' borders. Some have followed them.
Quin Hao has left.
Lin Tze has left.
Ya Nam has left.
Ming Li has left.
Kon Chen has left.
Yu Fan has left.
Tian Wei has left.
Hou Zi has left.
Qin Yi has left.
Liang Jun has left.
Nyu En has left.

Meon Zhi has left.

I have stayed.

作噩之年,三月三十
An entire lunar cycle has passed since half of our people have gone to war. It is easier to eat your fill when there are fewer mouths to feed, and the rice the grows vigorously. Gradually, hope has come back.

作噩之年,六月十七
The harvest is in full swing. There is a cloud of thick smoke, several Li away, from the river's other side. Other fields are burning out there, but those of the Yellow River meander are prospering.

作噩之年,七月上旬
Huge battles are given, far away from here. Their echo resonates everywhere, and the countryside quakes as much from the whisperings as the sound of the wind in the rice fields.

作噩之年,九月廿五
The Shu has surrendered. Maybe the dream you had wasn't that crazy, little Zhi.

作噩之年,建子朔日
There has been a secret interview between the new dean and a man in armor yesterday. He set off again on his quick horse a bit before the tiger hour.

作噩之年,建子十四
Sima Zhao, who has guided the Wei, came back to his ancestors. His son, now called Wudi, has been proclaimed king. Jin is now the name of this country. This is what I know.
It takes a long time to hear what must be known, in these far regions.

作噩之年,大蜡次日
A big procession of soldiers came yesterday and stopped at the wave house. An officer, covered from the glory of his victories, requested a hearing to the Kuyang sect. In his pomp armor embellished of precious yarns, he bent over. Then, he removed the heavy helmet. Meon Zhi was back.
A child has left the wave house, he went back as a man.

He would tell later what happened. For now, it was the time to celebrate the return of a son of Kuyang. The return of my son, not from blood, but from heart and spirit.

作噩之年,除月十日
A lot of alcohol has been drunk during the last two days. Many songs, tales, laughs. We have been celebrating the return of those who had left.
We were forgetting those who weren't back.
Out of twenty, only seven had got back. The fierce fights of the Shu-Han campaign had taken five of them. The counter-attack of the Wu sages, four. One had been dead by the rot which had poisoned his blood. Another had got sick. Two had simply been missing, and it was with a big shame the remaining ones were mentioning them.
But the deaths weren't occupying the livings' spirits and the night was only jubilation and songs learned under the tents canvas and the comforting women' skirts.
The dean wasn't participating in the celebration, and I have seen him exchanging some words with some well sober masters for such an occasion. The situation had to be delicate for him: the former dean's orders being the withdrawal of our community, he obviously couldn't greet those who have clearly broken these, however glorious they may be.
Careless of all of this, the warriors, happy for getting back to their home, simply had a feast and did a big racket all night long.

作噩之年,除月十二
I woke up this night, it was a terribly frightening dream.
I usually don't get frightened by sleep omens by nature, because their sense is often hidden. Yet, if I'm so shaken that my only refuge is the characters my brush is now drawing, it is that what my eyes just showed me is the freezing reflection of what my soul showed me. And reflection is often far crueler.
There is a dye, in the outbuilding. I saw it, wet. In the twilight, blackened at a cubit size. The smell was soft, the dye was heavy. Tepid.
The odor still remains, like a lingering past smell.
I have to go back to sleep. It must be a dream again. It had to be a dream.
At the rabbit hour, the puddle will have disappeared.

作噩之年,除月十三
They have killed the little dream-filled child. They have taken the proud man's head who went greeting his family back. They have thrown him in the water with his foster brothers in arms. They have shredded their own family's blood.

They have assassinated my son.

作噩之年,除月既望
I will avenge Meon Zhi, Yu Fan, Liang Jun, Quin Yi, Lin Tze, Qin Hao.
Kuyang in not on the Way anymore since it has accepted Jin to forget its existence, in exchange of a few Wu Zhu and the head of the fearsome Taoist fighters who were so fierce during the Shu-Han attack.
Jin fears Kuyang and the wave house fears Jin.
They have betrayed everything that makes our pride. They are despicable.
The perjury of our house will never be erased.
The tiger in my chest roars anew. Unlike the little Zhi's flame, it has neither pity or illusions.
Hate, it is its name. It has been fifteen years he hasn't visited me.
He knows the wave house secrets.
Woe betides the traitors.

作噩之年,岁除之日
I will execute the ritual at the center of the spirit enclosure. Here is the world center, and the flows tie themselves. Here is Kuyang's greater terror.
I will offer my solitary arm to the cursed forces. He won't likely be useful in the future.
I will walk on the path of the mythic periods' elders, where the alchemist knowledge was still used to wage war and when never China had been united. Like them, I will spread chaos. Like theirs, my blood will draw the men' fears. Like theirs, my last breath will bring fear at the edge of the world.
Let them shiver at the forbidden knowledge sealed by the ancient Han.
They won't be able to stop me with the sharp edge of a blade.

It's the way it goes, after all.

Every immortal has died one day.

In the part of the forget coat
Where no time exists and never will
Where we have sealed his gravestone
Of the one who broke the Way
May the name be cursed a thousand times
And China forever remember
Kuyang's sacrifice to save it
There has never been darker day in our history.

May any memory of the renegade be ashes.

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