The Secrets of Heaven, Season 4

Chapter 14

It reluctantly turned back, stubbornly barked a few more times, and then sat back down on the floor. But the look in its eyes as it stared at the television was so fierce and cold that Xiaozhi couldn't help but tremble for a moment.

After the wolfhound calmed down, they could hear the conversation on the television again:

"Today is also your last day—want to know what day it is? I can tell you—"

Amid the middle-aged man's calm words, they heard three drawn-out Chinese characters: "Trial...day..."

These three words sent chills down the spines of everyone watching television.

"Now, I will read the final verdict: You are guilty of pride, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and lust. For each of these crimes, you are sentenced to life imprisonment, to be carried out immediately, without parole!"

The awe-inspiring verdict roared from dozens of television sets, echoing throughout the entire home appliance store. The man on screen solemnly pulled out a document and read it aloud with gracious passion. His background had transformed into a black curtain, resembling a judge's bench in a criminal court, where he sat as the Supreme Judge, delivering the final judgment on each individual.

Is this the day of judgment for the Heavenly Secrets? Ye Xiao's wounds throbbed again. Trembling, he tilted his head back, his gaze flying out of the bustling shop and onto the rain-soaked streets. In the sleeping city of night, the buildings, soaked in the rain, had lights on in almost every window; every television screen was lit; every electronics store was playing the same scene; and the verdict could be heard in every block…

Did you see it? Did you hear it? Did you feel it?

In the deep darkness, a fierce storm rages, and you are like a cold and weary bird, unable to find shelter from the wind and rain. You can only struggle to fly in the night rain, looking down at the starlit city below—not a single television set is not turned on, not a single screen is not lit, and not a single speaker is not making a sound.

The entire city was filled with that face, becoming a stage for a middle-aged man's performance; the entire valley was filled with that voice, becoming an omnipotent, sacred court; the entire rainy night was filled with trembling, becoming the final judgment of the human century!

"The end times have come!"

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8:20 PM, September 30, 2006.

"The end times have come!"

His speech was broadcast throughout the city, and even inside submarines several meters underground, it was not spared.

Qiuqiu sat staring blankly in front of the television screen, a chilling fear gripping the fifteen-year-old girl. She hadn't imagined that she could receive television signals from the outside world in this mysterious underground space, much less that she had been sentenced to "life imprisonment"!

Is the end of the world coming?

She turned to look at the elderly man with white hair and beard. The old man was sitting in the submarine's control room, in the most prominent captain's seat, his eyes also fixed on the television.

The speech on television continued; the middle-aged man, resembling a supreme judge, faced the camera with an imposing presence, radiating authority and dignified presence.

"This time was not set by me. Unfortunately, all the choices were made by yourselves—this is the fate of each of us, like a pre-programmed sequence that, once started, cannot be escaped or changed. All struggles are futile and will only make you more desperate when facing judgment. Therefore, please be grateful for my verdict, which has rescued you from hopeless illusions and brought you back to cruel reality, for this is the only rationality in the universe."

Fifteen-year-old Qiuqiu watched the television screen, terrified by the judge, and retreated step by step, as if despair had gripped her heart. She thought of her parents, of Cheng Li's tragic death in the crocodile pond, of Huang Wanran's fall to her death from the nineteen-story pagoda, of Qian Mozheng's being trampled to death by an elephant—were they also guilty? Did they have no love in their hearts? Did they die to atone for their sins?

She instinctively shook her head, slowly stepped back in front of the old man, and was embraced by a pair of old but strong hands.

"Don't be afraid, poor child."

But the old man's comforting words couldn't dispel Qiuqiu's fear. She huddled in the old man's arms and asked, "Who—who is he?"

"A friend from the past."

He stared blankly at the screen, watching the man on television and listening to those chilling words. The old man's eyes flickered subtly, and his lips twitched slightly, but he ultimately remained silent.

However, the television began answering the girl's questions.

"Now I know what your most pressing problem is—"

The man in front of the camera deliberately kept everyone in suspense, remaining silent for several minutes. Apart from the old man in the underground submarine, everyone in front of the television was uneasy, as if they were about to hear who would be the first to walk onto the gallows.

Finally, he smiled easily and said:

"who I am?"

That's right, this is a question that everyone from Elena to Lin Junru to Cheng Qiuqiu and finally Ye Xiao is eager to know the answer to (please forgive me for using such a long sentence in my excitement).

Who is it?

Qiuqiu couldn't help but ask again, as if the other person could hear her voice through the television.

"Alright, I can tell you the answer now."

He had just said one sentence on TV, but then stopped talking and paused for a moment, which made the fifteen-year-old girl extremely anxious. "Oh, hurry up and say it!"

"I am God!"

That was the answer from the man on television, and the entire audience fell silent instantly. Even the heavy rain that enveloped the sleeping city seemed to pause for three seconds.

Is he a god?

Inside the submarine, several meters underground, in the control room filled with metal pipes, Qiuqiu looked back into the old man's eyes.

However, the old man replied with unusual calmness: "Whom God would destroy, He first makes mad."

Whom God would destroy, He first makes mad.

At the same time, at Nanming Hospital.

Outside the window, the rain poured down, and inside, groans echoed—Tong Jianguo felt a tearing pain in his arm, and could only grit his teeth desperately. Large beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his face turned ashen.

His gaze was fixed on the opposite wall, where a wall-mounted LCD TV screen was also playing that frantic speech.

Instantly, the television screen pierced his pupils like a sharp sword, causing him excruciating pain, just like his arm.

The emergency room was filled with the smell of disinfectant, but there was a large pool of fresh blood on the floor, and many surgical instruments were piled up, as if a patient had just been rescued.

A twisted and terrifying metal shell casing lay in an enamel tray, stained with blood.

As the speech on television continued, Tong Jianguo, in great pain, bit down on the gauze and used his right hand to bandage the wound on his left arm.

On a rainy night, after seeing Ye Xiao and Xiao Zhi off, he rested alone in the emergency room. When he felt his strength returning, he rummaged through the hospital, finding some surgical instruments in the surgery department and a bottle of Kinmen Kaoliang liquor in the director's office. He decided to operate on himself to remove the bullet that had penetrated deep into his left arm muscle—otherwise, he would have to stay there to rest, and might even lose his arm.

Back in the Golden Triangle, Tong Jianguo did the same thing—without doctors or medicine, he disinfected his wounds with alcohol and flames, then used a military dagger to cut open his flesh and remove the bullet lodged inside. If he was lucky enough, he would recover in ten days or so. If he was unlucky, the wound would become infected and could eventually kill him. Fortunately, he was always lucky, managing to escape death each time.

Anesthesia failed again. He first downed half a bottle of Kinmen Kaoliang liquor, then stuffed a towel into his mouth. After disinfecting with an alcohol lamp and iodine, he held a scalpel in his right hand and gently cut open the wound on his left arm. Blood gushed out immediately. He could only bite down on the towel tightly, trying not to make a sound. His muscles trembled, and the pain tore at his nerves. The scalpel cut deep into the muscle before finding the damned bullet. With his last bit of strength, he used clamps to grip the bullet and forcefully pulled it out of the muscle tissue—along with blood and a few nerve fragments—and threw it into the medical tray.

Although the whole process only lasted a few minutes, the pain was unimaginable; after all, a person is not made of steel but of flesh and blood. Without any anesthesia, relying only on the effects of half a bottle of sorghum liquor, he performed surgery on himself and successfully removed the bullet—if it were an ordinary person, let alone going into shock from the pain, they would have been scared to death just by looking at themselves.

Finally, he spat out the blood-stained towel, which was almost torn to shreds by his teeth. He let out a painful scream without restraint, the sound echoing throughout the dark Nanming Hospital—even nearly waking Henry in the morgue.

After the initial sharp pain subsided, he experienced continuous nerve pain. He quickly disinfected the wound with medication and promptly re-bandaged it with clean gauze. His injured arm was immobile, so he tightly wrapped it with bandages and slung it under his neck.

As he groaned against the dark window, he suddenly saw the LCD screen of the television on the opposite wall light up—

Yes, Tong Jianguo saw that face, that face representing God's pronouncement.

"I am God!"

The man on the television screen looked directly into the camera and spoke with great fervor.

The entire city of Nanming fell silent for three seconds at the sound of his voice—all things in the world were listening to his will and teachings.

Then, he continued on television: "The world is currently engaged in an invisible war. Of course, the visible wars are far from over either, in Iraq, in Afghanistan, in Palestine. The killing has never stopped for a single day. There are no just wars in the world. There are no evil wars. There are no moral standards. The so-called victory of justice over evil is always history written by the victors, nothing more than self-deception. The reason for everything lies in interests. Because this is war—politicians, for the sake of national and private interests, drive their own cannon fodder to eliminate the enemy's cannon fodder. From this perspective, there is no essential difference between victors and vanquished, between the strong and the weak. This is natural selection, and war is a shortcut to natural selection. In fact, it is also a kind of human selection."

Tong Jianguo, who had personally participated in the war, felt that these words were not without reason. Only those who had experienced the cruelty of war could be so desperate and so clear-headed.

"War is our judgment. And the prosecutors and judges are ourselves—in this sense, humanity is judging itself. You don't realize that in this invisible war, you have become cannon fodder. There are never any victors, because war itself is humanity's defeat."

As the verdict was read further, the face on the television screen became even more vivid and clear. On a rainy night in the sleeping city, in the emergency room of Nanming Hospital, Tong Jianguo, his chin in a sling, rested his chin on his right hand, coldly watching the man on television—

Yes, it's him!

Many years have passed, and although the years have etched deep marks on his face, he will never be mistaken.

His eyes suddenly welled up with tears, and Tong Jianguo felt a surge of inexplicable emotion. He looked up and let out a long sigh.

At that moment, the man on the television announced again—

Tonight is Judgment Day!

Tonight is Judgment Day!

At the same time, the sleeping villa, the last stronghold.

Outside the window, dark clouds loomed over the city, and torrential rain poured down, accompanied by a constant, loud rustling sound from the bamboo leaves.

Inside the window, Sun Zichu was dying.

In the bedroom on the second floor, Lin Junru, Elena, and Dingding were still intently watching the television, listening to the man in front of the camera reading the judgment. He had been talking non-stop for a long time, and his voice filled the entire Nanming City.

"No, I don't believe it!" Ding Xiang stood up angrily. "Who are you? Who exactly are you?"

This too is a secret, but it is about to be revealed.

The person on TV paused for a few seconds, then suddenly recited a string of English words—

"God's right hand is gentle, but terrible is his left hand."

Because his English was so fluent, no one could understand him at first. Only Elena, an American, could understand him clearly, and she immediately translated it into Chinese: "God's right hand is loving, but his left hand is terrible."

God’s right hand is loving, but his left hand is terrible.

Dingding frowned. "Where have I heard this before?"

"This is a poem: God's right hand is gentle, but terrible is his left hand—from Tagore's Stray Birds."

Elena was once a big fan of Tagore, and in high school she could recite many of the poems in "Stray Birds," including this one.

Everyone's eyes remained fixed on the screen, but the man inside remained lost in thought for a long time, as if he were still immersed in Tagore's poem.

Just as the women in front of the television were getting anxious, the screen suddenly shook and flickered violently a few times before turning into static.

"Ah! What happened?"

Lin Junru panicked and nervously pressed the remote control, but no matter which channel she switched to, it was filled with static and she could no longer see any signal.

No! Don't!

They seem to be addicted to the trials on TV; they feel sad when they can't hear the person speaking.

Elena was the first to run downstairs and turn on the large TV in the living room, but she still couldn't get a signal; no matter how she adjusted the settings, it was all static.

At this moment, all the televisions in the entire Nanming City returned to darkness and silence, leaving only the unrestrained torrential rain, which could not wash away the sins of the past.

Inside the sleeping villa, the three women huddled together in the living room, fearful, as if the trial they had just endured was about to begin. A gust of wind blew in through the kitchen window, and fine raindrops pelted their faces. Elena and Lin Junru wept bitterly, embracing each other.

Suddenly, Dingding faintly heard some sound outside, which pierced his eardrums amidst the sound of heavy rain.

"Someone is knocking on the iron gate!"

She grabbed a broken umbrella and opened the door, ready to rush out.

"No!" Elena grabbed her arm, trembling. "It's very dangerous outside. Maybe the trial is about to begin?"

"Then let the judge stand before me and pronounce the verdict!"

Dingding suddenly opened her umbrella, rushed into the pouring rain, and struggled to open the iron gate of the small courtyard.