The Sudden Disappearance [1]
...
Fang Xiao woke up to the smell of spoiled hay.
He got up from his straw bed, assuming today would be like any other: a long, hard day under the scorching sun, followed by a bitter herb dinner before collapsing from exhaustion. But something felt different.
Silence.
An absolute silence that had no place in their bustling village. No vendors shouting in the market, no children's laughter by the river, not even the sound of Old Fu's snoring, which could be heard every night like a giant rat.
He stepped outside his small hut, his eyes widening in disbelief. The village was deserted. The doors were wide open, the stoves still warm, and some tables had half-eaten food on them. It was as if everyone had disappeared overnight.
"You fools! Where are you hiding?" he shouted at the top of his lungs, but the only answer was an eerie echo.
He ran toward the rice fields, where everyone should have been at this time of day. But the vast fields were empty. Tools were scattered on the ground as if the farmers had vanished in the middle of their work.
Then, he noticed something even more terrifying.
The golden rice fields, which required daily "Chi" maintenance to stay alive, were still thriving. In fact, they seemed more alive than he'd ever seen before. It was as if... as if they were finally free.
Fang Xiao stood in the middle of the field, his hands trembling. This wasn't normal. These rice fields needed the care of dozens of farmers every day, the "Chi" energy they gave with their blood and sweat. How could they still be thriving without them?
He stepped back, his breath shallow, his eyes darting between the gleaming stalks that swayed gently in a breeze he couldn't feel. The air was thick... not like the usual mountain air, but laden with something else. Something invisible, yet present.
He tried to calm himself. Maybe they all left for some reason, maybe they were taken somewhere else, maybe it was some spiritual experience, or a prank by the village elders... But he didn't believe any of it.
"Damn it! What am I supposed to do?" he whispered to himself as he stepped back.
Amidst the shock and terror, Fang Xiao decided to search for any clue that could lead him to the villagers. He began checking the houses one by one, but all he found were the remnants of life that had stopped suddenly: scattered clothes, half-washed dishes, even a child's toy left by the door.
In Old Fu's house, Fang Xiao found a small book open on a wooden table.
"Martial Arts Records..."
Fang Xiao rubbed his eyes and stared at the open book on the table. It was very old, the cover worn, and the pages yellowed to the point of crumbling with the slightest touch.
The characters etched on the first page were hard to read due to time's passing, but the words he could make out were familiar. "Martial Arts Records."
He took the book into his hands, flipping through the pages quickly, his eyes scanning the lines. The book contained advanced techniques and reports of ancient battles.
"Didn't martial arts nearly vanish because of the farmers? Why is there still one?"
While martial arts had nearly disappeared, with most villagers engaged in farming, the techniques found in this book were beyond what he knew.
There were illustrations showing strange combat techniques, some resembling the ancient styles he'd learned in his distant youth, but others were completely new.
They were fast, complex movements that integrated body and "mind" in ways he had never imagined.
"Well, I'll deal with this later. The priority now is to find the villagers."
Fang Xiao decided to continue his search for the villagers. The book might prove useful, but the real answers lay somewhere else, somewhere unexpected.
He continued his search through the deserted village, sensing a mysterious aura in every corner. The hour was approaching noon, but the atmosphere felt as if time had stopped. No movement, no sounds—just the oppressive silence that weighed heavily on his chest, as if the world had vanished.
He passed by the abandoned homes, avoiding looking at the dark windows that silently watched him, until he reached the edge of the village, where the rugged road met the dense forest.
"Do they want to kill me? What the hell!" Fang Xiao muttered angrily as he looked at the thick forest before him.
To leave the village, there were two paths: one led into the forest, the other to the great river. In both cases, if he chose either path, he was dead.
Ugh, what a dilemma!
After a moment of hesitation, Fang Xiao decided not to choose either path. Instead, he retraced his steps to the center of the village.
"Thinking about it... if everyone disappeared, why am I still here?" Fang Xiao whispered to himself as he stopped in the middle of the road, staring at the cracked earth beneath his feet.
"After three days..."
Fang Xiao stood alone on top of a hill overlooking the golden rice fields stretching out to the horizon. The wind tugged at his black hair, but it carried no familiar sound—no laughter, no sound of plowing, not even the whispers of the winds he'd grown used to.
It had been three days since everyone disappeared.
At first, he thought he had lost his mind. Maybe this was a punishment from the heavens for stealing that handful of spirit grains a week ago. Or maybe it was a test from the village elders. But now he was sure: they were gone.
Even the spirit beasts that used to threaten the village had vanished. The sky was no longer blue, but a pale gray.
"Is this punishment?" he whispered as he stared at the unbearable gray sky. He wasn't in the right mental state to think this could be a punishment for stealing the grains.
Fang Xiao knelt in the middle of the golden rice fields, his hands sinking into the warm soil. The grains glimmered under the faint sunlight, almost as if they were laughing at him.
"No... this isn't punishment."
His voice trembled as he realized the truth.
"If it were punishment, I would have disappeared with them. But I'm the only one left."
"I have to leave quickly!"
After confirming he was the only one left in the village, Fang Xiao decided to take advantage of the situation.
"If everyone's gone... then everything here is mine now!"
Fang Xiao rushed through the village like the wind:
He snatched bags of grain stored in Old Fu's house.
He looted daggers and sharp tools from the blacksmith's house.
He took a magical mirror he found in the old fortune-teller's hut, but he dared not touch it.
He took everything that might be useful to him—food and weapons.
But the real treasure was the "Martial Arts Records."
He sat in the middle of the deserted village, surrounded by his spoils, and opened the strange book.
"Alright, let's see what you've got..."
He began attempting to mimic the illustrated movements:
Falling Shadow Kick: He stumbled and fell flat on his face.
Viper Strike: He almost dislocated his shoulder.
Sleeping Dragon Breath: He had a severe coughing fit.
"Damn it! Is this a joke?!"
Fang Xiao tossed the book aside in frustration, panting and trying to regain his balance. He felt as though his body was being put through a brutal test by martial arts techniques he didn't yet understand, but he didn't completely give up.
"There's no escaping this. I must learn these techniques, no matter what."
He hesitated to get up, then returned to the book. He knew that these arts might be the key to his survival, especially after everyone had vanished around him.
He decided to start again, this time slowly, trying to understand the movements before executing them. He took a deep breath and focused his heart and mind. His body still ached from the failed attempts, but his will remained strong.
Falling Shadow Kick, let me understand it properly first.
Slowly, he began to mimic the movements illustrated on the page, tightening every muscle in his body with precision. His foot moved slowly across the ground, then lifted slightly, attempting to execute the kick the way it was shown in the book. This time, the result was less disastrous, though he felt a strain in his leg.
"This is a little better..."
Days passed like years.
Fang Xiao no longer kept track of the sunrises and sunsets. All he knew was that he had to train, to grow stronger.
In the morning:
He repeated the Falling Shadow Kick hundreds of times until his feet were swollen.
He trained the Viper Strike until blood poured from his shoulders.
He forced himself to practice the Sleeping Dragon Breath until he almost choked.
In the evening:
He studied the book carefully, trying to understand the strange illustrations.
He ate from the supplies he had looted.
He tried not to think about the fact that he might be alone.
Weeks passed, each day blending into the last. But Fang Xiao started to feel something new. The pain in his body became less intense, and the movements that had once frustrated him were becoming smoother. His legs had grown accustomed to the kick, and his shoulder no longer ached as it had before.
Months passed, and Fang Xiao was no longer the weak young man he once was.
"He's gotten a little stronger... yes, just a little."