Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 3 2018 | Page 52

Zhu grinned jovially. “I would walk to the ends of the earth to find you!” Sun smiled, melancholy. After the robbery, police forces had captured and interrogated one of the culprits, but all they’d been able to find was that the thieves were headed to India on another crime spree before going into hiding. To retrieve the manuscript, Sun, Zhu and Xuan had been sent as a group to pursue them; during the six months to India, Zhu had often groaned about how tired he was. But now, Zhu’s face grew solemn. “Brother, why did you leave? We were sent on a mission, and we failed. There is nothing to be ashamed of.” Sun paused, head tilted at an odd angle. “It’s just--that manuscript was the last of its kind. It was valuable. Think of how many lives it changed, how many people it impacted. We failed.” “There are other copies,” Xuan reminded him. “The story isn’t lost forever.” “I know, but this was the last real manuscript… and it was stolen! And it was my fault!” Sun’s eyes welled up as he spoke. “If I hadn’t abandoned the team and run away, I could have helped you capture them. One of the Four Great Classical Novels! We were the last hope to retrieve it, but now the original tale is lost… because of me .” Sun looked down, his fear clenching in his gut, a knot of despair and self-doubt. Xuan reached out a bony hand and gently comforted Sun as the boy wept quietly into his shoulder. “Sun, it’s okay,” Xuan coaxed as he patted Sun on the back. “We tried and we failed--but the effort is what counts.” “That’s… such an… old saying,” Sun choked in between sobs. “You’re… just trying… to make me… feel better.” “It’s an old saying because it’s true. If we truly tried our best to retrieve the manuscript of ‘Journeys to the West’, and we couldn’t do it, what shame is there in that?” “Besides, it isn’t the prize that matters. It’s what was gained over the course of the journey. Isn’t that right, Xuanzang?” Sun heard Zhu’s deep voice say. “It seems you have picked up some lessons, Zhu, because that is exactly right.” Xuan agreed. “What did we gain during the journey?” Sun asked curiously. “What was there to be gained besides the manuscript?” Zhu rolled his eyes, as if it was obvious. “Our friendships, brother! Isn’t that what all the fairytales and folk stories say?” “The lessons. The hardships. The struggles and their resolutions.” Xuan listed. Sun felt his eyes welling up more with each reminder of their arduous journey; but not with tears of sadness. Tears of joy, and of remembrance. “With every problem faced and solved… with every moment spent together…” Xuan said quietly. “We became more knowledgeable, more enlightened; more mature, more competent.” “Some pep talk,” grumbled Zhu from the sidelines, gnawing on an apple that he had somehow pulled out of nowhere. “Ask yourself: what is a journey?” Xuan prompted. “I dunno… a process from point A to point B?” Sun shrugged, unsure of where he was headed. But noticing Xuan’s disappointed look, Sun tried to think of another answer. “Maybe... something more?”