"Where is that boy?" the man demanded, his voice fracturing the morning stillness.
"Are you asking me? How many times do I have to tell you to keep him away from that wretched old man?"
As though envious of the morning sun rousing the realm beyond the mountains, the husband and wife argued with bitter ferocity within the confines of their cramped hut.
"Why can't you take some responsibility for your own kid? The whole village is starting to complain," the middle-aged man grumbled, taking another spoonful of his meal before advancing toward the door. Snatching his scythe from the threshold and hoisting it over his shoulder, his wife's relentless scolding trailed in his wake.
"What do you expect me to do, tie him to his bed? He takes after you—stubborn as a mule."
Meanwhile, a frail boy called out as he approached a dilapidated hovel at the fringe of the settlement.
"Good morning, Grandpa!"
"Welcome, little Mel."
An ancient man, his beard cascading down to his chest, greeted him with open arms. Draped in a heavily patched robe, his withered face broke into a warm smile as he sat before a structure boasting a half-collapsed roof.
"Your mother is going to be furious with you. Look, I'm perfectly fine. You don't need to bring me food every single day anymore."
"Let her be mad! If it were up to her, it's totally normal for the other kids to beat me up just because I'm not as strong as them. But you... you always teach me new things," the boy replied, puffing out his cheeks.
Suddenly, as though shedding the weight of decades in a single breath, the old man barked back.
"You foolish kid! Do you really think I teach you these things just because you take care of me? I'm just bored waiting to die, nothing more!"
"Why don't you join the village martial arts school like the other kids? If you can prove what you're worth there, you might actually build a comfortable life for yourself later on."
The old man's tone grew solemn. Resting his chin in his palm, he scrutinized the little boy from head to toe.
"Don't make fun of me. I can't even stand my ground against the normal kids in the village. They're all way bigger than me. Plus, martial arts training is super exhausting. I'd rather just wander the forest with you."
The old man slapped his knees, erupting into a roar of laughter.
"Alright, alright, there's no winning an argument with you. Come here, today I'm going to show you some plants you've never laid eyes on before!"
As the young boy skipped down the earthen path, brimming with joy, the ancient man trailed in his wake with heavy, measured strides. The sunlight warming their backs was soon ensnared within the branches of the towering trees and faded into the void.
By the descent of night, the boy who had sprinted ahead that morning returned fast asleep upon the old man's back. The exact moment he awoke, he bounded into motion.
"Grandpa, I'm going home! I'll see you tomorrow morning!" the young boy called out as he hurried away.
The boy's pure joy anchored a smile upon the old man's withered face. After observing him fade into the distance, he pivoted toward his ruined hovel. He had scarcely breached the threshold when a massive timber log crashed heavily against his skull.
"Wake up, you filthy old fool!"
Within the confines of the cramped chamber, illuminated solely by the dying embers of a kerosene lamp, five grown men loomed over the ancient man, whose hands and feet had been bound to the floorboards.
The largest among them dug his boot fiercely into the ribs of the man whose beard cascaded down to his chest, while the rest glared with fury.
"Didn't we tell you to leave this place?"
"Stay away from my kid, you piece of trash. Are you trying to turn him into a pathetic loser like yourself?"
The final words belonged to none other than Mel's father—the very man who had endured a severe scolding from his wife that morning. The middle-aged man practically foamed at the mouth, speaking through gritted teeth.
Subjected to this relentless barrage of furious questions, the ancient man maintained his silence. Judging by his serene demeanor, there was a high probability he had found himself in a similar situation prior to this.
"You all must have realized by now that this parasite isn't just going to leave on his own. I say we keep him locked up here in secret for a week, then drag him deep into the forest and leave him to his fate!"
The burly man leading the group clearly harbored sinister intentions. Even if he possessed no intent to sully his own hands, he desired to abandon the ancient man, stripped entirely of defense, to a forest crawling with savage beasts.
The first to throw his support behind this decree was Mel's father—the old man's greatest companion in the eyes of the boy. While the ancient man, his unkempt hair bound carelessly at the nape, was merely a figure the other villagers elected to ignore, for Co, he stood as a relentless thorn in his side, bringing him daily grief.
"Co, is your kid going to be able to stay quiet without causing trouble?"
The burly man hurled the inquiry toward his most unyielding supporter, hoping his answer would dispel the anxieties gripping the rest of the group.
"Don't worry about it. I'll tell him the old man abandoned him. He might cry a little and refuse to believe me at first, but after a few days, he'll think exactly what I want him to think. I'm certain of it!"
Events unfolded exactly as the man had predicted. The next morning, when Mel sprinted to visit the old man, he was confronted by a situation entirely unprecedented.
His grandpa, who welcomed him at the door every morning without fail, was nowhere to be seen. The young boy hurried into the dilapidated hovel, and upon failing to find the person he sought, he sat precisely where the old man should have been and waited until darkness descended upon the settlement.
Alas, it appeared the ancient man was not destined to return. Knowing the truth of the matter, his father shepherded Mel back home, relentlessly shattering the young boy's convictions along the way.
"No, Grandpa couldn't have just left! He wouldn't abandon me without saying a word!"
Regardless of Mel's objections, his father suppressed him ruthlessly.
"How do you know he didn't leave? Look, he didn't even say goodbye to you. Guess you weren't as important to him as you thought!"
Once they crossed their threshold, his mother took over this psychological torment. After enduring a day of agonizing suspense, the young boy could bear it no longer and lost consciousness in a corner.
Mel rushed back to the old man's hovel the next dawn, but to no avail. The person he anticipated had seemingly vanished like smoke in the wind.
Meanwhile, given only dry bread and a meager amount of water, the ancient man touched none of it. As though he had accepted the certainty of his death, he merely lingered, awaiting his appointed hour within the windowless, dust-choked chamber.
Time slipped away with agonizing slowness. The days were saturated with an eerie serenity, yet two days prior to the appointed hour, something entirely unanticipated occurred. Convinced that his grandpa—who had cared for him for three years—would never forsake him, Mel entered the forest alone in the dead of night to search for the ancient man.
His father learned of this when he went to retrieve Mel from where the boy sat weeping. Two youths returning from the martial arts school had mocked Mel, only to see him sprinting into the depths of the woods.
Mel might have been physically frail, but no one could question the courage forged within his heart. When the youths had tried to chase after him before he reached the depths of the forest, the last thing they heard was his tearful voice.
"Something bad must have happened to my grandpa. I'm going to save him!"