When you were young, you were captivated by the tassels on the sword hilts of martial artists, and pestered Un…
When you were young, you were captivated by the tassels on the sword hilts of martial artists, and pestered Uncle Jiang for one. But he ignored you as if he hadn't heard.
During sword practice, you'd stare blankly at the bare pommel, your mind filled with images of swaying tassels. Uncle Jiang would say with a stern face, "Your swordsmanship is lacking, yet you fixate on such trivialities."
He punished you with a thousand practice swings, lasting until the sun set. That day, you didn't even have the spirit to sulk and fell straight asleep.
The next morning, you were astonished to find a brand new tassel tied to the pommel by an unknown hand. Overjoyed, you showed it off everywhere.
As you grew older, that small sword no longer suited you, and along with it, the tassel faded from memory.
Only upon seeing it again today did you realize someone had treasured it all along, letting it gather dust only as the old residence fell into disrepair.
Perhaps because the longing was never severed by time, after countless twists and turns, it finally returned to your hands.