Qiang, I've never been good with words. You used to complain about it all the time, always saying I never spo…
Qiang,
I've never been good with words. You used to complain about it all the time, always saying I never spoke up.
Now that you're behind bars, there's no one left to talk to. All of a sudden I've got plenty to say, so I might as well write it all down.
Twenty years ago, the day I didn't run.It wasn't because I had honor. Those kids all had their own crews and backers, and I had none. I was afraid you'd beat me, so I just froze where I stood.
The day of the robbery, I didn't run either. Not out of honor. I'd never heard what a dying man sounds like. It scared me stiff, and I couldn't move, so I just froze there again.
The day you told me to guard the money, I still didn't run. That wasn't honor either. I thought about everything we'd been through, and about how little of a future we ever had, and the words just wouldn't come. So I froze there.
You were always trying to teach me to fight, always talking about how we'd make our way through the jianghu together. But I could never even remember the moves. I kept putting it off and making excuses.
Then you fought for me and took a life for it. We had no choice but to run. And halfway there we got robbed of every last coin we had.
That's when I knew it. One of us was reckless, the other was uselessly stuck. Two gnats in a world gone mad, trying to live and still slamming straight into a dead end.
You always said my whole life could be summed up in one word: "stuck." Fine. For the past ten years, I've stayed stuck for you.
This time, you can say it was honor.
...Look at all this. I'm rambling on and it's all for nothing anyway. You can't even read.
When this letter reaches you, I'll just say I was writing about the good old days when we were kids.