He cleared his throat. "Where can I find books about history?"
The vendor's eyes lit up as if this was a request he was well prepared for.
"Ah, history! The foundation of knowledge," he said. "Right this way, young master. Follow me."
The vendor led him to another section of the room, where the books looked a bit more worn, with thick covers.
Lin Mao's interest was piqued as he glanced at titles:
The Founding Scholars, Emperor Tian Zin and Battle of Grandness, Fall of Dynasty
"Here you go," the vendor said with a bow. "These are some of the finest works on history in our collection."
Lin Mao couldn't help but nod in appreciation.
"Perfect,"
With the books of his choice, he pulled one of them off the shelf and flipped through its pages.
After reading through its table of contents, Lin Mao pulled another two out. His brow's furrowed as he wondered if he had enough to pay for them.
"How much do these cost?" he asked.
The vendor bowed low with a proud smile. "Ah, these three books? Only 3 silver coins, young master."
Lin Mao's face fell. He pulled out his pockets, hoping to find something, but all he found was air.
"I forgot... I'm broke as hell."
But then his eyes lit up as a thought crossed his mind. "Wait a second... didn't they say knowledge can be used as currency here?"
He looked back at the vendor, whose smile remained unchanging.
"Um... I don't have silver coins... but perhaps I could offer some knowledge in exchange?"
The vendor blinked in surprise. "Knowledge, you say?" "Well, this is a market... and... we do trade for rare insights sometimes."
Lin Mao leaned forward, lowering his voice just slightly.
"Maybe you have something on your mind, something you're struggling with. I can offer you some advice."
The vendor hesitated and gave a long sigh. "Umm, young master... I would rather have money. My wife... she passed recently. All I have left now is this shop and the alcohol I drink with the money I earn from selling my goods."
Lin Mao paused for a moment, taking a deep breath.
Perfect.
He straightened his posture, his grin fading into a serious expression. Slowly, he crossed his hands behind his back and faced away from the vendor.
"Oh, the tragedy of life," he began. "A man stranded on the shore watches as the river of love slowly fades... What a cruel play of fate."
Lin Mao turned his head slightly to glance at the vendor. The man's face was lowered, his eyes flooded by grief and regret.
His smile returned. "It's working."
Lin Mao's voice softened, a small, knowing smile on his lips.
"Perhaps... you are just drowning in sorrow, thinking there's no way out. But all you need is a new direction. Life isn't about the hardships, but how you rise from them."
The vendor's eyes remained lowered, but he nodded slowly, as if taking in Lin Mao's words.
"Maybe you're right, young master," the vendor murmured, his voice barely audible.
Lin Mao's voice took on a more poetic tone as he continued:
"The man, embraced by loneliness, falls deeper as the river willingly drowns him. Perhaps he finds comfort in that, in the chaos of the flood, because it feels like the only thing that anchors him to something real."
Lin Mao's own gaze was distant, as if reflecting on a story from his own life.
"Perhaps he feels that it's the only way to mimic the love he once had. Perhaps… he regrets not acting sooner when he had the chance."
As the words hung in the air, a single tear dropped from the vendor's eye, slowly falling down his wrinkled cheek.
Lin Mao's grin widened, seeing the vendor's emotional reaction.
He pressed on, sensing he was making progress. "You see, my friend, regret, grief, and pain are what makes us human. They are the essence of being alive. But there is beauty in them, just as there is in happiness and pleasure."
"What is the meaning of being alive if all you have is happiness? Pain and suffering are what remind us of our fragile nature. We are allowed to make mistakes, we are allowed to grieve, we are allowed to cry, and we are allowed to regret."
"But at the end, only when you rise back up, will they have actual meaning."
Lin Mao paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the room. He took a deep breath before adding:
"Without loss, without pain, we would never truly appreciate the good moments. It's the balance that gives life its meaning."
The vendor, who had been wiping away his tears, seemed lost in thought now. The sorrow that had once clouded his eyes began to lift—slightly, but it was progress nonetheless.
Lin Mao couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He had done his part, pushing the vendor towards some kind of clarity. Now, it was time to collect the books that he had come for.