Heaven’s Will Says I Must Die, So I Laugh

On my twelfth birthday, everyone in the village was waiting for me to die.

Because none of the boys in our village lived past the age of twelve.

That was our “fate,” a curse carved into our bones.

Just as I coughed up my first mouthful of black blood and thought I was about to meet the King of Hell, a scruffy old Taoist priest kicked open the broken door to my house.

“Fate? What a load of crap!”

The old Taoist shoved a pill into my mouth and roared with laughter. “Kid, if Heaven says you’ll die at midnight, does that mean you can’t live until dawn? Come with me. I’ll teach you how to poke a hole in this damned Heaven!”

Only then did I realize that the curse on our village was just the beginning.

This world is a chessboard for the gods, and all living beings are merely pieces they casually discard!

They sit high above the heavens, manipulating fate and treating us like ants.

Then I’ll start as one of those ants and fight my way up to the Ninth Heaven, step by step, sword stroke by sword stroke!

I’ll make all the gods and Buddhas in the heavens see for themselves:

Fate can be severed! My life is mine to command, not Heaven’s!