[As the years went by, I learned from the old man, whom I eventually came to recognize as a respectable person. Flawed, of course, but someone who always did his best to improve.]
[I learned a lot while spending time with him, with Weiis, with Sass, with Longg… with everyone in general.]
[The things I learned are not something I believe I have the time to encapsulate within these pages. It's not that I don't want to—it's just that I truly don't think I have the ability to write that fast.]
"Cale! There's half an hour left before we leave, come down and say goodbye to Mr. Fu!" my mother shouted from downstairs.
[Well, it seems I really don't have time to write down what I learned, but I can assure that I'll apply it someday—and when I do, I'll definitely write about it.]
«flap»
As I closed the book, I felt a sense of fulfillment. There was no real reason why writing information about the kwamis would be a good idea, and I would probably have to burn this "diary" as soon as I could.
But I suppose I truly needed this. I needed some proof that the time I spent with them was as wonderful as I remember it being—though it might simply be nostalgia shaping the way I see the past.
I took a few seconds to contemplate my room, or rather, what would soon become my old room. I still remember when I damaged the wall while practicing with a sword… we had to cover it up with a penguin poster.
Moments like that are awful when you're living them, but incredibly endearing when you remember them later… much later.
Maybe I could repeat that moment when I'm over there… no, that's not something I should do. That was my mistake—one I promised I would never repeat, and I can't break that promise for something so selfish.
"Cale! Twenty-five minutes left!"
Well, it seems those "seconds" ended up stretching longer than planned. Still, considering the history I had in this room, it deserved those minutes. But I had already wasted enough time and couldn't afford to lose any more.
With that in mind, I grabbed my suitcases and my backpack and headed downstairs to help with the Tetris-like game of fitting everything into the car—something I consider myself quite skilled at.
I went down the stairs and carefully made my way to the door without bumping into anything, only to find it already open, all the suitcases packed, and my parents talking with Master Fu.
"Thank you for helping us organize everything, Mr. Fu. You're impressive at this."
"These are things you learn with experience. When I was younger, I traveled to many places."
"Is there any you'd recommend?"
"I advise visiting Xi'an. Its wonders are things best seen in person."
"Oh, Cale, you finally came down. Hand me the suitcases," my father said before snatching them from my hands and heading toward the car. "I'll put them away while you say goodbye to Mr. Fu."
I would probably regret letting him pack my luggage, but there were more important things to focus on.
"Young Cale, it's time for you to explore your own path, live your own adventures, and make your own mistakes."
"But none too big."
"But… none too big," Master Fu acknowledged. "That's why I prepared this for you," he said as he offered me a rectangular black box with red lines.
"Master… are you sure I'm ready for this?"
"Well, I don't believe this is something I'll regret," he said as he took my hand and placed the box in it. "And I hope you won't regret becoming my disciple either."
"I would never do something like that."
At my response, the master simply smiled and said goodbye as my parents called out that everything was ready.
"I hope to see you again, Master."
"And I hope it will be on good terms."
"It will be."
With that, I got into the car and we began the journey to what would be my home for the next few years: the People's Republic of China, or simply China.
To be honest, I've lost a large part of my enthusiasm for this work, but I have a promise—and I will keep it. This fanfic will end with the great restructuring of reality and will have a maximum of around 140 chapters. I wanted to say more, but time won't allow it, so I'll leave it here.