The World of Mei

Luoya City, the capital of Northern Han. It was one of the most developed cities on the Yugu Continent. It was a city where the rich made huge lucre every day to support their luxurious living. However, it was a city with the most beggars on the Yugu Continent. Beggars with disheveled hair and ragged clothes could be seen in all the streets and lanes. Rich people in smart clothes went past the beggars now and then. Some of them were in a good mood and dropped a couple of coppers, while others turned their heads in disgust, covering their noses. There were two beggars distinct from the crowd_a man in his 60s or 70s and an eleven-or-twelve-year-old girl, just like many common groups of beggars. They seemed to be an old beggar and his granddaughter. What was abnormal was that the old beggar, whose hair and beard were gray, held a roast chicken in his left hand and a wine pot in his right hand. He ate the roast chicken and drank the wine with relish. The girl with disheveled hair and mud-coated face held a cold hard steamed bread in both hands and nibbled as if she was reluctant to eat it up, or trying to find the evidence to prove its unique deliciousness. They sat in the corner of the street, laying a chipped dusty bowl in the front with a few coins in it. A large banyan tree occupied an area of about three square meters before them. A few dry and yellow leaves that remained hanging on the tree were staying toughly in the north wind, looking like it was going to fall at any time. The passersby could not help but cast the old guy looks of disdain, and the poor little girl of sympathy. The old beggar turned a deaf ear to their pointing and comments, munching on the golden shining roast chicken and swallowing wine. The wine, mixed with the grease of roast chicken and trickled down his grizzled beard and greasy dirty rags. It was quite an unpleasant sight. The little girl was used to it. Blinking her big black eyes, she nibbled on the cold steam bread carefully and took a look at the passersby once in a while. The old beggar finished his last bite of roast chicken, reluctantly threw away the bones, and raised the wine pot to take a mouthful of wine. He casually rubbed the left hand that was covered in roast chicken grease on his oily mouth and clothes to wipe off the grease on the latter two, or, nobody knew, on the former. He made a belch in satisfaction and then turned to the girl who had just finished the cold steam bread, discontented. "What the hell is the roast chicken you got! It's half-raw! Worse than the roast duck yesterday! Are you going to kill me? Go and stand in the corner for four hours! Watch your posture, or I'll break your legs!" Blowing beards and bulging eyes, he scolded her loudly. "Why stand again? You punish me to stand in such an uncomfortable posture every day... I have picked the best roast chicken for you, why are you still unsatisfied!" The little girl muttered to herself with tears in her eyes, but as soon as she saw the old beggar's staring eyes, she stopped muttering, obediently walked to the corner and began to do martial-art squat as the old beggar asked. The old beggar stretched, yawned, and dozed against the back wall in the warm winter sun, squinting eyes. Although the old beggar seemed to have fallen asleep, the little girl still did the posture he asked, squatting motionless, and did not dare to relax. Because she knew that if she pushed her luck to slack, it would immediately lead to more severe punishment. The old beggar looked like to be asleep, but he seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. If the little girl made any mistakes about her posture, he would pick up a black stick aside and hit the girl's legs and feet to correct her mistakes without warning. For a long time, the little girl did not dare to have a trace of carelessness, but could only stubbornly keep on it, enduring the pain. She no longer cried. She no longer shed tears. She no longer begged for pardon. She no longer took any chances. The only choice was to do what the old beggar asked her to do. She was clear that there were no other choices because she had been begging around with this old beggar ever since she could remember. The old beggar, however mean he was, was her only relative in the world. Everything was to be done according to the old man's orders. If she made any mistakes, even the slightest one, she would be clubbed. She would, of course, dodge when she was hurt or angry. However, she always failed. The black stick was as nimble as a snake. The old beggar never prevented her from dodging, and she gradually discovered some of these patterns as time went by. Each time she could dodge a little longer than the last time, although she would be caught inevitably by the stick at last. Nevertheless, she remembered the way and the patterns the old beggar used that stick and practiced in private. Young as she was, she swore to herself that she would successfully dodge all the hits and learn this artful method of using the stick. The little girl was squatting and pondering when an old Taoist priest in cyan garment slowly came over. The old Taoist priest dressed in cyan, holding a horsetail whisk in his hand. He was white-haired and his long and gray beard fluttered with the wind. He looked a more or less immortal. He smiled at the old beggar, who seemed to be asleep, and said, "You are punishing her again." It was about 4 hours. The old beggar didn't answer the Taoist priest but called the girl without turning back, "Oh, come, look at your shabbily-treated look! Go and beg some food. It's time for supper." The girl seemed to be very interested in begging and beamed, "Okay, I' going." She said to herself, "I'd rather beg alone than stay by your side, you mean old guy!" The old beggar watched the little girl skipping away, still paying no attention to the old Taoist priest. He leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and began to sleep again. The old Taoist priest did not care about this. He stood aside, leisurely looking at the passers-by. The sun was about to set. The old Taoist priest spoke unhurriedly, "Her time is running out, old guy. Why do you bother so much? It would be better to let her enjoy her last days!" The old beggar rolled his eyes at him and complained, "Don't talk nonsense, old dog! What makes you think she will die young? You always said that she would die before she reached twelve, but she is twelve now, very much alive and kicking!" As soon as he stopped, something came up to him. The old beggar asked anxiously, "Is it December 16th today? Dear me, today is her twelfth birthday. How long is it till five p.m.?" Before the old Taoist priest could answer him, the old beggar sprang to his feet and ran after the little girl in the same direction... The old Taoist priest immediately understood and followed... On the busy street of Luoya City, an old beggar ran at full speed and an old Taoist priest ran after him, which made a unique scene that bewildered passers-by. They didn't know what happened and wondered if the old beggar was fending off debt or had stolen something valuable from the old Taoist priest hot on his heels. Passers-by talked about it with great curiosity. The two old men ran forward with anxiety, regardless of what others are talking about. They had gone past two streets. The old beggar seemed to be very familiar with the girl's begging route, running without any hesitation. He thought with anxiety, "You must be safe, girl! I don't believe in what the Taoist priest said. You will live past twelve. Nothing's gonna happen as long as today goes by!" When the old beggar and the old Taoist priest ran into Luoyun Avenue, one of the busiest streets in Luoya City, they saw a crowd of people gathering in front of a grand antique restaurant. A sense of foreboding immediately came over him. The old beggar speeded up and deftly edged his way into the crowd. The little girl, face covered with blood, lay on the ground faintly. The old beggar felt a sharp pain in his heart. Regardless of what had happened, he reached the little girl as fast as possible, pressed a few acupoints on her, picked her up, and ran away. The old Taoist priest followed him and witnessed the worries and pain of the old beggar who hadn't been this nervous in decades, and said, "You have said my prediction was nonsense, but you do believe it. You love her but treat her with a vicious attitude. It looks like you can never change your stubbornness and eccentricity." The old Taoist priest tread on the heels of the old beggar. Running didn't keep him from talking. After leaving Luoyun Avenue, the worried old beggar used the art of lightness and headed north, neglecting onlookers' startled eyes. He leapt over the wall and ran on the roof at an alarming rate as if treading on flat ground. The old beggar had only one idea in his mind. He must see the doctor Ye Bufan as fast as he could and perhaps there was still a chance of survival for the little girl. He got out of Luoya City, crossed the moat, and ran into the lofty and majestic mountain northward. On the steep mountain road, the old beggar still galloped fast, without stopping. Perhaps it was because of bumping or terminal lucidity, the little girl gradually regained consciousness. She felt that she was in a very familiar and warm embrace. Although the smell was unpleasant, she felt very friendly as a beggar, so she slowly opened her eyes with great effort. Her long eyelashes and big and bright eyes were more vivid and transparent among mud and blood. She saw the old beggar again, he was familiar as well as strange to her. From the time she could talk, the old man was adamant that she should not call him Grandpa. She felt him familiar because they have been living together for so long a time, and strange because she had never seen such expression on his face since she could remember things. Incredibly, tears coursed down his cheeks, covering his worries and pain. "It turns out that he cherishes me!" "He cares about me!" The little girl smiled with joy. She intended to call the old beggar, but she failed to open her mouth or make a sound. The old beggar was in such a hurry that he did not notice it. When he arrived at a simple straw hut halfway up the hill with the little girl, he met Doctor Ye who had just come back from gathering herbs in the mountain. Ye Bufan was a thin-faced, vigorous old man. His eyes looked bright and lively, not like ordinary old men's. "Save my little girl, old fellow! She was badly injured!" Said the old beggar eagerly. Without demur, Doctor Ye put down his pack basket and other tools, took over the little girl, and gently laid her on the bed. The old beggar was a bit solaced by Doctor Ye's quickly and methodically clean up and treatment. He had confidence in Ye Bufan's medical skills. It was said that as long as the patient could breathe, he could save him or her no matter what the patient was suffering from. After a while, the old Taoist priest also arrived.