#With surplus behind, one forgets to hold back; with no way forward, one thinks of turning back#
Merchants value profit and are most easily blinded by greed. My family has been in business for three generations, and what we value and fear most is the word "profit."
When this burden fell on my shoulders, it felt empty, yet incredibly heavy. The pressure was overwhelming, and besides the helplessness and anxiety, there was also the burning passion in my bones.
I was young, but ambitious. I wanted to shoulder great responsibilities and make a name for myself. My temperament was not stable, so I inevitably became impatient for quick success.
In casinos, the gamblers who are blinded by greed are often not the ones who win the most, but the ones who lose the most.
The more desolate and declining the Xie family's situation became, the more I wanted to gamble. It was as if this gamble could turn the tide, this gamble could turn defeat into victory.
Heaven was quite kind to me, and I repeatedly took risks and won by the skin
of my teeth. So I kept my eyes and ears open, waiting for the right opportunity.
Liu Li Sun is considered a trendsetter in this industry; information obtained from him is almost always accurate. What was said unintentionally was taken seriously by the listener; his henchman, drunk, let slip the information, which became an opportunity for me.
First come, first served. With the news, finding another target would be easy. I prepared my men and equipment overnight, ready to rake in a hefty sum.
"It's a fierce target," the old butler said, placing his teacup on the table and approaching. I knew he was about to ramble on about the family precepts set by my grandfather.
"And a greasy target too." I picked up the teacup, blowing away the tea leaves and steam rising from the rim. The aroma filled my nostrils, making me want to take a sip immediately.
"The betting market is still operating; there's no need to take the risk."
"The more the merrier. Nobody turns down money." I never like to compromise on small things, so I lowered my head and took a sip.
But the next sensation wasn't so pleasant. Before I could taste anything, my tongue went numb from the heat, and I quickly gasped for breath.
Back then, I was stubborn as a mule; once I made up my mind, nothing could change it. The old steward knew me well; seeing my absent-mindedness, he sighed and left.
Southern Dynasty tombs are all about feng shui, built against mountains and beside water—the scenery was beautiful, but also eerie enough.
Two layers of sealing stones, with a Tianlu (a mythical beast) to the east and a Qilin (a mythical creature) to the west, the carving delicate and exquisite, far superior to the two large lions at the museum entrance.
Unfortunately, even if these were good, we couldn't take them out, especially since better things were inside. Choosing the difficult over the easy wasn't worthwhile, even if it meant taking a risk.
I didn't believe in demons and monsters; guarding against traps was the priority. Whatever mythical beasts or ferocious creatures, no matter how ferocious, they were still just statues. Entering the tomb, I was greeted by bottles, jars, poems, calligraphy, and paintings—a veritable feast for the eyes. Economic development really makes a difference; even the tombs there are a level above the rest.
"Let's go a little further in; the real surprises are yet to come." A wolf's heart is first filled with greed, then with caution.
Just as I was basking in the joy of near success, I was doused with a bucket of cold water, soaked to the bone and chilled to the bone.
Another stone door opened, leading to a passageway. The passageway wasn't long, but it was riddled with traps; getting through or not was a completely different story.
Unfortunately, I couldn't make it that day.
I don't know what I stepped on, but I slipped and stumbled. Good heavens, before I could even regain my footing, a hail of crossbow bolts rained down. I
drew my staff and swung it a few times, managing to barely manage with some dodges and weaves, but in the chaos, I don't know what other traps I triggered.
Iron chains and hanging stones fell down, blocking the way, significantly reducing my range of movement. Unable to maneuver my staff, and without the ability to defend myself, I was practically a sitting duck.
The path ahead was blocked, turning back was too late, and there were no eyes in the back of my head; one turn and I could become a human die.
Taking risks requires seven parts courage and three parts luck. If you have enough courage, the rest depends on the blessings of the gods.
Dropping your gear and yelling "Run!", you realize the pain is nothing compared to the struggle for survival. Gritting your teeth, you can endure the agony, just crouching low and running forward.
Staggering out of the tunnel, your arms are numb. Few of your companions made it out, and all the bottles and jars are shattered. It was all for nothing, a wasted trip to your death.
When I got home, my elders gave me a good scolding, insisting I learn my lesson.
Once my injuries were about 70-80% healed, they laid out burning coals on the ground, dividing them into seven or eight sections, each longer than the last, and pointed to them, saying, "Come on, jump over them."
This was relatively easy for me.
A distance of about a meter, I could easily step over with one stride.
A little further, I'd push off the ground with my feet, jump up, and easily leap over—easier than hopscotch as a child.
Then I added a short running start, lifting my legs high, and landing steadily.
Looking back at the smoking pile of embers behind me, I felt a sense of accomplishment. Turning back to the aunts and uncles watching on either side, I felt an even stronger urge to give it my all.
Okay, let's see.
The distance was getting further and further. Holding my breath, I found the right moment to jump during my run-up, all my muscles contracting in a split second. At the highest point of my leap, my knees brought close to my chest, and I simultaneously leaned forward, doing a somersault in the air to extend the jump time and jump even further.
"Well done!"
I thought, looking at the last pile of embers on the ground, stretching seven or eight meters, and my resolve to give up began. Actually, I knew in my heart that I had used at least nine-tenths of my strength in that jump. I landed on a small piece of ember; luckily I was wearing shoes, otherwise my heel would have been burned. Now that
things had come to this, I wasn't willing to give up. Caught between a rock and a hard place, I decided to take a gamble.
I used the same old somersault method, but this time it didn't earn me any cheers. Instead, I was obediently helped back inside by several people to have medicine applied.
The old butler used a cotton swab to apply medicine to my foot. The medicine still stung painfully as it entered the wound. Although I endured it without making a sound, I was filled with regret. If I hadn't been so stubborn, I wouldn't have had to suffer like this.
The old butler rambled on and on, but with my foot hurting terribly, I didn't have the energy to listen carefully. I only caught the phrase "three steps forward, four steps back" and a story about my grandfather.
As the pain in my foot subsided, I finally turned my attention back to what the old butler had said.
"What did Grandpa say?"
"Your grandfather said that greed is human nature, but knowing when to stop is true skill."
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