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1. The End (First chapter of Master, This Poor Disciple Died Again Today)
🕑 Added 2021-10-11 22:26:36 +0000 UTCBam!
The blue sedan slammed into a tree. The cinderblocks sitting in the front seat flew through the front windshield and tumbled down a cliff, vanishing into the night. Engine still revved by the brick on the gas pedal, the car growled, fighting the tree.
He jogged over and upended a tank over the car. Gas rushed out and coated the car, splashing through the open driver’s side window. Throwing the gas left and right, he ensured every inch of the car was covered.
At last, the tank ran dry. Drops of gas tumbled onto the car, joining the growing puddle over the trunk. He tossed the plastic tank aside and drew a knife, holding it over his wrist. Tensing, he closed his eyes.
This is the only way.
Blood splattered over the driver’s seat, the steering wheel, the shattered windshield. Finished, he quickly wrapped his wrist with a bandage, then leaned through the window and pulled the brick off the gas pedal.
The car finally quieted, idling against the tree.
With a sigh, he dropped the brick over the cliff. Finally, I can start over. Start over, with none of the debt collectors on my ass. None of their incessant phone calls and late night harassment visits. No death threats, no one stealing my paycheck, no suffering and struggling to pay back what my idiot father owes.
At long last, my planning pays off. This tiny, secluded highway, full of hairpin turns… people die here all the time, and it’s not uncommon for bodies to vanish, either. No one will suspect a thing. Everyone will think I’m dead, while I escape to another country to start over. Goodbye, old life! From here on out, it’s a blank slate! I can live like a human being once more!
He tossed his cell phone into the car, then drew a lighter from his pocket. Flicking it on, he threw it at the car.
Whoosh!
A fireball engulfed the sedan. Paint crisped and burned. Upholstery lit up like old newspaper. He sighed out, pleased with himself, then turned and walked away. A quiet old highway like this? It could be hours before another car comes by. All the more time to get away from this place.
Walking to the next tree over, he threw aside a makeshift cover of branches to reveal an electric motorbike. Eyes lit up with joy, he wheeled it out onto the road. Here I come, new life!
Two brilliant lights blazed down on him. A truck barreled around the corner, blasting along at easily twenty over the speed limit. It crossed the lines to make the turn, and flew at him, tons and tons bearing down on him and his tiny motorbike. He stared up and saw the driver’s eyes, wide as could be.
Oh shit—
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“Xiao Hui! Xiao Hui! Wake up! Hurry, hurry! Today’s the day!”
He furrowed his brows and flailed, slowly blinking awake. “W…what? The day for…?”
His voice came out high and clear, the voice of a young boy. Startled, he clasped his hands over his mouth, only to find chubby cheeks awaiting his soft palms. He drew his hands back and stared at them. Instead of long, calloused fingers, he was greeted by fat palms and stubby little fingers.
He stared. I’m… a kid?
A woman smiled down at him. “Hurry! The cultivators won’t be here forever!”
Rubbing his eyes, he sat up. Xiao Hui? My name isn’t Xiao Hui, it’s… His brow furrowed. I… I can’t remember?
Images flashed through his head. His sad, lonely life. His father, beating him whenever he bothered to come home, on the rare days he wasn’t so drunk he fell over in the entryway. When his father finally died, only to be replaced by the debt collectors, hounding him for his father’s gambling losses. An empty adult life working ten hours a day, unpaid overtime, only to slog home and have his check stolen from his hands before he even passed the threshold. His only joy, webnovels, desperately read off a cracked smartphone in his few moments of free time.
He peered around him, taking his surroundings in. A wooden hut, a wooden floor. He laid on a thin blanket, and the ceiling closed off above him, not a single electric light to be seen. The only light spilled in through the windows, the early rays of dawn illuminating their hut.
He jumped up and raced out the door. No way.
“Where are you going so early? Xiao Hui! Hey, come back!”
Around him, men and women in traditional clothes wandered along the village path, carrying loads or tools to their daily jobs. Huts spread out from the main road, a few small shops putting up their signs for the day, readying to beckon in travelers.
He breathed in a deep breath and tasted fresh air, untainted by pollution. Birds and insects chirped around him, singing in the early morning.
Overhead, a trio of people on swords flew by, white robes rippling in the wind, hands clasped behind their backs. They circled high overhead and descended into the town square, where families, leading small children, jumped to be the first to grab their attention.
Hui’s eyes glittered. I really did cross over into another world.
Hello, new life!
