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Stolen Inheritance - A True Story of Oil, Army and Murder

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LHandLG

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“It is my way—it has always been my way—to become captivated by other people’s charisma and madness and wildness and beauty. To disappear into their stories and become hypnotized by their existence. To become lost in a trance of themness and to forget who I am, what I am, and where I stand.”

“No one in the world knows the real you; that you were good, that you were innocent. They do not know that you were troubled by the rain to save little earthworms, that you were filled with smiles for blooming lotuses. Everyone in the world resents you for being cold-blooded, but they don’t know that you once shyly scratched your head and said, 'I… I don’t have much ability. If I have some spare money in the future, I should build more houses and settle down with people who live in the same condition as I was before.' Everyone hates you for killing and slaughtering, but they don’t know that you had told me before, 'Shizun, I want a holy weapon that is like Tianwen. It can distinguish between black and white, and can save lives.' Everyone was cursing you, they want to punish you. I know the truth, but I can’t give you back your dignity.”

“In that moment, even if his chest were to be torn open, and his heart ripped out, veins, flesh, and all, it could not hurt as much as this. He saw Chu Wanning’s hands—raw and bloody from crawling up more than three thousand steps carrying him when he was still alive, he saw those hands slowly feeling along the table. On that table sat flour, seasoning, and mincemeat filling. And next to the table was a pot heating up water. The water was already boiling, but Chu Wanning, the dummy, didn’t even know to lower the flames a little, and the thick covering of steam made everything look hazy and blurry… (...) Mo Ran wished he could cut open his own chest and give him his heart, just to hear his heartbeat again. He wished he could drain his own blood to fill his veins, just to see color on his face again.”

“Ever since, holding onto the resentment he felt that grew by the day, he'd kept provoking Chu Wanning in attempts to get his attention, his praise, his astonishment. During that time, if Shi Mei had praised him with "well done", he would've flown into the sky with happiness. But if Chu Wanning had been willing to give him a "not bad", he would've gladly given his life.”