When Su Yuandao first entered the sect, he was far slower than his peers at grasping the mechanics of clockwor…
When Su Yuandao first entered the sect, he was far slower than his peers at grasping the mechanics of clockwork and springs. Fearing he might bring shame upon his master, he often kept company with a lone oil lamp and a wooden eagle, toiling until the break of dawn.
These private struggles did not go unseen by his seniors. None mocked his lack of talent. Instead, they made a habit of keeping him close, ready to unravel any mysteries he encountered.
He realized then that the principles of the Mohist way were never confined to ancient scrolls. They lived and breathed through the actions of the Mohists themselves.
The Founder once said: "He who speaks with fervor yet acts with sloth shall find no audience, no matter how eloquent his plea. He who labors greatly yet boasts of his merit shall find no favor, no matter how vast his toil."
The Founder also said: "Thus, the noble-minded grow stronger each day through relentless effort. Those who surrender to ease and desire sink into complacency, while those who live with resolve flourish ever further."
Following the example of his seniors, Su Yuandao inscribed these tenets into his journals, practicing them one by one. He had never been the fastest, but every step he took was firm and unshakable.
Later, when he was tasked with overseeing the sect's discipline, his judgment in reward and reprimand was so impartial that not a single soul dared voice dissent. Order reigned supreme upon the mountain.
Even when his own master, Elder Bulbul, neglected his lectures for the sake of his research, Yuandao remained incorruptible, docking his master's stipend without exception. Yet the very next day, he would arrive at his master's door with candied kumquats, the elder's favorite treat, to offer a personal apology.
Private affection never clouded public duty, nor did duty wound their bond. Elder Bulbul accepted the penalty with grace, finding no room for resentment, and could only marvel: "In my hall stands a true gentleman; my own disciple has become the very yardstick of our Way."
When the younger disciples eventually arrived, it was by the side of their Eldest Senior Brother that they were raised. Yuandao rarely lectured or scolded, yet he carried an immense gravitas in their eyes. The Fourth Sister and Fifth Brother were stubborn souls who often clashed with their master. Yet at Yuandao's mere presence, even the most unruly party would quietly lower their heads and fall silent.
The clumsy fledgling of the past had become the sect's bedrock, leading by example and weaving the teachings of the Mohists into the hearts of the next generation.
Yet, Yuandao often reflected. His Second Brother possessed a photographic memory. His Third Sister had an iron will. His Fourth Sister carried vast erudition, and his Fifth Brother held a visionary mind. All of them possessed natural gifts far greater than his own.
However, these brilliant juniors had once stood on the brink of death amid the fires of war, nearly robbed of the chance to even come of age. In this vast world, how many more luminous talents, who ought to have blossomed like his juniors, were never granted the sanctuary to grow?
The Mohist sect was a sanctuary. But in truth, it was far too small.
"Shadows stir within the Court; the North may soon face peril."
When the scouts' reports were delivered to the Elders, the hall fell into a heavy silence. Since the Battle of Zhongdu Bridge, years of Khitan incursions had nearly decimated the disciples beyond the mountains. Only in the last two years had the sect begun to glimpse the first signs of renewal.
Standing within the hall, Su Yuandao knew that the tide of war could shift in a single heartbeat. He dared not imagine how many more children would lose their chance to grow beneath the flames of conflict.
A gentleman is no mere bell, sounding only when struck. To grind oneself from crown to heel for the benefit of all under Heaven is a duty he must fulfill.
Reining in his horse for one final glance back, he knew that by descending the mountain, he was no longer the Elders' prized disciple. He had become a renegade of the Mohists.
Yet as he gazed upon the Mohist City, a spark still burned brightly in his eyes:
Should the day come when all the world is as the Mohists... then I shall truly be home.