Chapter 90: Chapter 089: Life is aningless
Prince Gro’s study in the Palace was vast and spacious, filled with nurous bookshelves that were cramd with books.
Anyone unfamiliar who entered the study would assu that Gro was a well-read and knowledgeable prince. But in truth, he had never read any of these books. The study wasn’t really his, for although it was nominally his property, the real master was his teacher—a Court Tutor—one of the very few people he trusted.
Gro, dressed untidily, walked into the study and saw an elderly man with silver hair who had long been sitting in the study, engrossed in reading a book so close to his nose due to poor eyesight.
The old man was so absorbed in his reading that he didn’t notice his arrival.
After a long while, the old man beca a bit thirsty, put down the book, and took a sip from a sowhat cooled cup before realizing that there was an additional person in the room. Seeing Gro just out of bed, the old man was not at all surprised, as if he had seen it all before, rely shaking his head slightly before reaching for his book, ready to continue reading.
It was then Gro couldn’t help but speak up, looking at the silver-haired old man, “Teacher.”
...
“Hmm?”
“You say…” Gro frowned and asked, “do you say that I am a failure?”
“What’s wrong?”
“You see…” Gro said, “In politics, I can’t compete with my elder brother. In other areas, I’m not outstanding either. I cannot bear hardships, nor endure suffering, so my swordsmanship is poor, my horse riding is poor, my insight is insufficient, I’m timid, and I almost have no prestige. To be honest, it might be a good thing if my brother becos the King. If it were , I certainly couldn’t do a good job, I might even throw the entire Kingdom into chaos.
Recently, I have been trying the Wizard’s ditation, but even after taking so potions, the effects are not significant. I feel like I’m truly useless, incapable of doing anything well. If I weren’t a prince, but the son of an ordinary Farr, I probably would have died a long ti ago, right? I feel there’s really no aning in living this way.”
Having said that, Gro’s face showed complete dejection, a look hoping for guidance.
The silver-haired old man spoke slowly, addressing Gro, “Not at all.”
“Huh? Teacher, do you an I am not that bad?” Gro’s eyes lit up slightly.
“No, I an, if Your Highness truly beca the son of an ordinary Farr, it doesn’t necessarily an you would die young. And Your Highness’ life, as well as many people’s lives, actually aren’t aningless because of their insignificance, but because they never had aning to begin with.”
“I…”
“Your Highness…” the silver-haired old man turned his head, squinting his eyes to look at Gro, spoke softly, “you should know, cough cough, most of this world is made up of ordinary people. Whether it’s a Farr’s son or a Noble, very few possess qualities like courage, wisdom, decisiveness, or rationality. However, the number of people who are brutal, evil, cruel, or bloodthirsty is also not high. Most people, essentially, have no substantial difference, timid and ignorant, which can be called ordinary, or they can be called diocre.
Your Highness, you’ve realized your own diocrity, which is good; you have already surpassed many people. And now, what you need to do is to accept this diocrity.”
“I…”
“What’s wrong with diocrity, after all? Why must people pursue sothing? Once a person has pursuits, has desires, that’s when the suffering begins. People, in fact, should be content with being ordinary; this is how they will experience so happiness, as the world can’t be changed by one or two individuals.
We, cough cough, we’re nothing more than insects on the earth. We’re born, we live, and then we will eventually die. Our lives, there’s no necessity to assu they have any aning, just like the fat chickens raised in the Palace kitchen. Your Highness, do you think they live with any aning? For themselves, there’s no aning, but for us, they have purpose because we eat their flesh.”
“I…”
“Cough cough… To be alive doesn’t necessarily need to have aning, Your Highness. The reason you ponder on this question is simply because you’re alive. Really, the many beasts on earth, the many people, do they truly all have a aning? Of course not.
As long as enough taxes are collected, the Lord will not care whether the Farrs on his land are happy or if their lives have aning. A hundred Farrs, and another hundred Farrs, make no difference to the Lord.
Your Highness, in my view, the entire world is chaotic and full of temptations. An ordinary person can easily get lost in it, attracted by sothing, be it love, wealth, or power, then mistakenly believe that this is so-called life’s aning and then strive and struggle for it.
Maybe you’ll catch up in the end and realize it’s all nothing much. Maybe you won’t and die with regrets. Actually… this is all just life’s deceit. Life inherently has no aning. The only difference between it and death is being alive. Your Highness, you’re fortunate to be a prince, not having to consider food and warmth like an ordinary Farr, but beyond that, not much else.
You could be a good prince or a bad one, but you’re just a prince, unable to change too many things. Even your brother—the new King— is just a King. He can’t casually do anything to change the world.
We’re all insects on the earth; we live, whether struggling or easily. Accepting our lives are utterly aningless and then calmly facing death—that’s all we can do. Do you know why I’m always reading here? Because only by reading can I forget all this and find monts of peace.”
“I…” After listening to this lengthy teaching, Gro felt completely unsettled; his already despondent, dispirited mood plunged even deeper, feeling that the whole world was a dull grey, genuinely aningless.
Everything his tutor had said seed very true; everything was without aning.
The things he pursued, the things he wanted, had no value, bringing only pain and trouble, with no benefits at all.
But deep inside, Gro vaguely felt that sothing was amiss.
Could it be that truly everything was aningless?
Why do all people live vaguely in this world; what are they truly living for? Could there be nobody who truly wishes to do sothing genuinely aningful?
Regrettably, he could not answer this question; perhaps soone could?
Gro, slumping in the wooden chair in the study, couldn’t help but recall the person he had t in the forest of Viscount Lansite’s domain at the border—the young Wizard.
Was his life also aningless? If there was aning, what would it be? Did he know the aning of life, of the world?
(End of Volu One)
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