A Prophet - Chapter 27 (Part 1)

Chapter 1 - Huayue Rong and the Song of Mind and Destiny

Returning home, the three of us were filled with deep emotion.

That night, we warmed a pot of wine. The three brothers ate and chatted as we drank.

"Could this hatred really last this long? It happened decades ago, was it even worth it? Besides, when I went to pass on the message back then, Grandfather had already figured it out. Even if I hadn't said anything, Grandfather still would have killed Qian Yuelin and the others," Wang Jiaxian said.

"Heh. It's hard to say for sure. Everyone is different. Some people let things go, while others can't get over it for their entire lives. Remember that 87-year-old man who committed murder in our neighboring city the year before last?" I said.

"I remember, I remember."

"Eighty-seven years old, just because his wife was stolen by a neighbor sixty years ago, he was able to harbor that hatred for six decades, and then beat his 90-year-old fellow townsman—who had cuckolded him—to death with a walking stick. Can you imagine the sheer power of that hatred?" I said.

Sibaitou took over the conversation and said, "That old man was something else. Back then, the person who stole his wife had money and power, so he didn't dare seek revenge. He even knelt before the man and personally handed his wife over to him. After the founding of New China, he still didn't dare seek revenge because the other man had four strong, healthy sons, whereas he only had a bunch of daughters. Without sons, he had no strength and no leverage to make a move. But the thought of revenge never died. When he realized he couldn't measure up to the other man in any aspect, he simply resolved to live a good life. He figured the only way he could win in the end was by outliving him. It wasn't until last year, when all four of his enemy's sons had passed away—none of them managing to outlive these two old timers—that this old man finally picked up his walking stick and thrashed his enemy, who was already suffering from a cerebral infarction. His strength wasn't what it used to be in his youth, but after striking him over a thousand times, the flesh and skin were completely beaten off."

"Sigh, when will this cycle of retribution ever end?" I let out a heavy sigh. "Why bother? Carrying hatred for sixty years, wasn't it exhausting?"

"We really should thank Grandfather," Sibaitou said again. "He sent us to prison and let us taste the bitter fruit of our own misdeeds ahead of time. We will never make mistakes again in this lifetime. The crucial part... the crucial part is why that female swindler claimed to be Farong? I just don't get it."

None of us could figure it out. We had no idea in which dark, forgotten corner there might still be remnants of the 'Jiangxiang Sect', continuous emotional feuds, and hidden, unknown risks.

As dusk seeks the mulberry trees, the elderly mourn their fading years. We were all men in our sixties and seventies, and all we wanted was peace. I knew this matter had stirred up Sibaitou's sorrow from many years ago. He had loved Huang Farong so deeply, yet she had simply vanished into thin air, leaving no final words and no belongings, as if she had never even existed in this world.

"Fourth Brother, don't think about it too much." I patted Sibaitou's shoulder.

Sibaitou looked dazed for a moment. "Sigh, people like us... we've had hard lives."

An endless wave of melancholy washed over me: Indeed, we lost our parents early in life, then joined a criminal sect, living in a drunken, dreamlike haze. It was exhilarating for a moment, bewildering for a moment, and in the end, we had nothing. It was only after coming out of the penitentiary that we finally began living normal lives. I finally understood why Grandfather pursued a life of ordinary days; peace is a blessing, and simplicity is a blessing. The lives of those renowned and powerful warlords are nothing more than the arrogant, superficial, and sorrowful songs of youth. With the rising and falling of the tides, through several cycles of reincarnation, everything ultimately returns to tranquility. Human beings are simply suffering creatures; infancy is the happiest time, requiring no thought and no struggle, though one doesn't realize it at the time. Once we grow up, having thoughts brings suffering, and that continues all the way until death. Whenever we have thoughts, we are suffering; when we are not suffering, we are either dead or entirely ignorant.

I thought of Grandfather again. He carried so much helplessness and sorrow—who could he ever share it with? I finally understood why he would always drift off into long spells of staring blankly.

"Should we go pay a visit to Longfeng?" Sibaitou suddenly raised his head and said.

"Why?" I asked.

"To see if Zhou Yulang ever revealed any information to him. Just in case there are any inside secrets about the 'Jiangxiang Sect'?"

"Impossible. Longfeng is an honest man, and he was swindled. The blind school's oral formulas that had been hidden for years were leaked. However, I do want to hear his thoughts on the matter now."

Together, we knocked on Longfeng's door.

"Old master..."

The moment we started speaking, the other party roared, "I don't tell fortunes, and I don't take apprentices."

Sibaitou and I were stunned. "Master, we aren't here to have our fortunes told, nor are we here to become apprentices."

"Then what are you here for?"

"We... we're here to investigate..." I said, thinking on my feet.

"Investigate? Are you policemen?"

"No... no, we are public security defense volunteers."

"Investigate what? Wasn't the case closed? I'm not Zhou Yulang's accomplice!"

I quickly said, "Old master, don't get excited. We're just making routine visits to see if you've suffered any harm, and also for the safety of you and your family."

"Oh... Harm? The harm is that I can no longer tell fortunes. The leaders of the Public Security Bureau told me not to engage in superstitious activities anymore."

"Heh, old master, don't be angry. The leaders are doing this for your own good, so you don't get mixed up in criminal cases. I heard the government gives you a monthly subsidy for lonely elderly people. Isn't it wonderful to just enjoy your retirement?"

"Sigh! I've been telling fortunes my whole life. Except for those ten years during the Cultural Revolution, I've spent all other times doing it. I wanted to earn an honest living too. You guys... come inside and sit down to talk." Longfeng finally let us in.

This was our first close-up encounter with a legendary figure in the world of blind fortune-tellers.

"Have some water." Longfeng expertly grabbed the thermos and poured two bowls of water for us.

"Thank you, thank you."

"What do you want to ask? Go ahead."

"Oh." I glanced at Sibaitou and said, "Old master, did this Zhou Yulang ever mention his background to you?"

"Sigh!" Longfeng, who was over eighty years old, let out a deep sigh. "I'm blind in my eyes, and blind in my heart as well. I just couldn't see that he was an ingrate. Back then, he knelt outside my door, begging me to take him on as an apprentice, saying he was an orphan. My heart softened, and I passed down all of my family's skills to him, never expecting him to be such a scourge. This is the second biggest mistake I've made in my life."

Sibaitou and I were startled. "The second biggest mistake?"

"Yes. You don't know, I also had an older brother. Fifty years ago, I was thirty-two years old, and my brother was thirty-three. Our family was poor back then, and as for me—because I was blind, I had followed a master to learn fortune-telling since I was a child. I suffered a lot; if I couldn't learn it, my master would hit me with a ruler. Later, after completing my apprenticeship, I started telling fortunes for people and saved up some money. At that time, my brother wanted to get married, and the bride's family wanted 200 yuan as a bride price. My parents couldn't scrape it together, so they came to me... At that time... I thought in my heart that this money was saved for myself. I was blind, but my brother wasn't. I couldn't bear to give that money to my brother, and my parents got furious with me, beating and scolding me. In a fit of anger, I burned all the money I had saved up. My brother's marriage fell through because of this. Later, unable to get over it—unable to understand why his own flesh-and-blood younger brother wouldn't help him—he couldn't find a way out, and jumped into a well..."

At this point, Longfeng choked up. Sibaitou and I let out a sigh of mixed emotions: "Every family has a difficult scripture to chant."

"Now I live with a distant nephew of mine—the nephew you saw living in my front yard. He is the descendant of my aunt. Ah, to be old and without descendants is a desolate thing. Without your own biological children by your side, nothing is convenient. People come and go during the day, chattering until my mouth is dry, and at night there isn't even someone to hand me a cup of water. And then there are the holidays; in ordinary families, whenever a major festival like the Mid-Autumn Festival arrives, sons and daughters buy things for the old folks. As for me? I still have to shell out dozens of yuan to show filial piety to my nephew so he can buy some meat to celebrate the holiday properly... Sigh... After Zhou Yulang came, I treated him like an adoptive son. I thought we were both lonely and miserable people, so I taught him all my skills, hoping he would support me in my old age and send me off when I died... Never would I have expected—never would I have expected that he was an ingrate!" Longfeng's eyes reddened as he spoke.

Hearing this, Sibaitou and I felt deeply unsettled. "Master, don't be sad."

When we tried to comfort him, it only became harder for him to bear, and his tears began to drop patter-patter.

Not knowing what to say, I thought for a moment and said, "Old master, don't worry. If this nephew of yours doesn't take care of you in the future, we will take care of you. I have a son and a daughter, and my companion here has two sons. Pick whichever one you like and have him recognize you as an adoptive father; he wouldn't dare not show you filial piety! We mean what we say!"

Longfeng wiped away his tears. "Thank you, thank you. Hearing those words from the two of you feels comforting. But then again, the two of you and I are neither relatives nor acquaintances, so I can't possibly accept that. Sigh... Retirement or no retirement, man is like a gentle breeze and flesh like mud; when people die, emotions fade like falling blossoms. Living is suffering, and dying brings cleanliness. Once you look past it, it's no big deal..."

Hearing this, I was filled with deep emotion, and when I looked at Sibaitou, I saw he was already struck dumb with astonishment.

"What's wrong?" I softly asked Sibaitou.

Sibaitou's lips moved. He seemed not wanting Longfeng to hear, merely moving his mouth without making a sound. He repeated this a few times, but I still couldn't understand.

"What are you two doing?" Longfeng sensed it.

Sibaitou couldn't hold back any longer and finally spoke out, "Old master, just now you said, 'Man is like a gentle breeze and flesh like mud; when people die, emotions fade like falling blossoms.' Did you think of this sentence yourself, or did you read it somewhere?"

Being dim-witted by nature, I finally reacted. "Man is like a gentle breeze and flesh like mud; when people die, emotions fade like falling blossoms." This was a line from Huayue Rong's suicide note back then! No wonder Sibaitou was struck dumb with astonishment.

Sweat broke out all over me, and my heart pounded so hard my entire body trembled. We both cast our gaze toward Longfeng.

Not knowing why Sibaitou asked such a question, Longfeng blankly said, "That sentence is something my little aunt used to chatter on about back in the day."

We drew in a sharp breath. "Dare we ask who your little aunt was?"

"My little aunt used to be an opera singer whose real name was Huarong, and her stage name was Huayue Rong. Our family was extremely poor back then, and my aunt was sold to an opera troupe when she was very young. Later, after she became a star, my aunt forgave my grandparents—after all, they were her biological parents—and she frequently came home to visit them. Although she was my aunt, she was younger than me; my grandmother gave birth to seven children, and the aunt was the youngest... Later, after 1940, there was never any news of her again. Some people said she went abroad with a military officer, and others said she died of illness..."

Sibaitou and I were so shocked our whole bodies felt as though they had been electrocuted. This world truly is wondrous; the masses scurry across the earth like ants, and when they part or when they meet again seems entirely destined by heaven.

"Why are you asking about this?" Longfeng suddenly realized something was amiss.

"Good poetry, good poetry." Sibaitou raised his thumb. "We just think this verse is exceptionally well written!"

"Mm. Aunt was a talented woman, extremely smart. She loved to laugh so much; I can still remember her laughter."

"Was your aunt married back then?" I asked.

"She wasn't married. She had an illegitimate child with an actor, and later I heard she was kept by a wealthy man, seemingly the leader of some kind of gang."

We understood. Before Huayue Rong followed Grand Master Zhang Enhui, she had already given birth to a child. No one knew why she could harden her heart to leave her husband and child behind, nor could anyone deduce why she willingly became Aobao. She had stepped onto the long, winding path of the jianghu, and ultimately breathed her last amidst the painful separation and unrequited love for Xu Huaijin.

"Did she teach you all your skills?" I asked again.

Longfeng smiled. "Aunt didn't teach me fortune-telling; what did she know about fortune-telling? But she introduced me to a blind master. At that time, she was the one who persuaded my parents to let me learn fortune-telling, saying that if I mastered this skill, I would have a way to make a living for the rest of my life."

"Old master, it's getting late, and we have a somewhat presumptuous request." Sibaitou cast a glance at me.

"Please speak."

"We'd like to have a meal here with you. We can go buy some wine and food, and we can eat and chat while we do. What do you think?" Sibaitou said.

"Good! Good! People are constantly coming and going here during the day, but at night no one comes. Heh. Since you've come to my place, how could I let you spend money? I'll buy it." With that, Longfeng pulled a cloth roll from his sleeve, opened it, and felt around to pull out two ten-yuan bills.

I was amazed by his technique; with just a light touch of his fingers, he knew the exact denomination.

We refused, but he insisted on stuffing the money into our hands. "Go on, go on, buy some wine and food. When a guest arrives, follow the host's convenience."

Unable to win against him, I took the money and went out, turning back to give Sibaitou a look. Sibaitou nodded.

When I returned, Sibaitou motioned for me to look at the corner of the bed; he had already taken out another twenty yuan and tucked it onto the head of Longfeng's bed.

Longfeng quickly felt around in the cupboard for three cups, and I poured the wine into the flagon, filling everyone's cup.

"Master has been in this profession for decades, hasn't he?" I asked.

"Sigh, a whole lifetime."

"Come, let's toast the master." Sibaitou and I raised our cups.

Longfeng picked up his wine and downed it in one gulp.

I pushed the plate closer to Longfeng, fearing he wouldn't be able to pick up the food. He smiled and said, "Don't mind me. I know in my heart how big and wide this table is. You don't need to worry about me, just eat your food."

"Having practiced fortune-telling for so many years, master, what are your thoughts on it?" I asked again.

"Thoughts... I have too many thoughts. The chaotic affairs of this mortal world are just four walls of fame, fortune, and wealth. My place is simply a place where people come to air their grievances; I've seen all kinds of people and all kinds of matters."

"Then what is your biggest takeaway?"

"Having a good destiny is not as good as having a good heart."

Sibaitou nodded. "What the old master says is profoundly true. Having a good destiny is not as good as having a good heart."

Longfeng drank another cup alone, and then leisurely chanted a verse from the Song of Mind and Destiny:

If the heart is good and destiny is too, wealth and honor last until old age.

If the heart is good but destiny is bad, heaven and earth will eventually protect you.

If destiny is good but the heart is bad, you will perish midway.

If both heart and destiny are bad, your life will be shortened and plagued with worries.

This Song of Mind and Destiny is the crystallization of the collective wisdom of the Chinese divinatory arts circle. Generation after generation of fortune-tellers eventually witnessed and understood this truth. This is the dialectic between fate and one's moral disposition, and a magical treasure for clearing away the fog of destiny. Grandfather had also quoted this poem in Yin-Yang Guidance Records, and summarized it by citing the original words of the modern eminent monk Master Yinguang: "This poem expounds the two meanings of mind and destiny thoroughly. If one can truly act according to it, then destiny is self-created, blessings are self-sought, and the power of creation no longer belongs to heaven, earth, ghosts, or gods."

These are words of wisdom to awaken the world, giving a sharp blow to those obsessed with fortune-telling. In just a few words, they point out the true meaning of destiny: it doesn't matter whether your so-called destiny is good or bad; the kindness of your heart and your personal cultivation are fundamental.

If your destiny is good and your heart is also good, such a person can enjoy wealth and honor for a lifetime; a person with a kind heart, even if their so-called innate destiny is poor, will still receive the protection of the heavens and live in peace until old age. Those who think their destiny is wonderful, sitting back to reap rewards without effort and acting recklessly, such people often earn money but have no life to spend it—they die, and the money goes unspent. The most terrifying ones are the last group: those who originally feel their destiny is bad, and instead of striving to improve themselves, give up and let themselves rot. Such people are not tolerated by heaven and earth, live a life of poverty, and die young.

The Song of Mind and Destiny has always been revered by countless numerologists. This is also what conscientious fortune-tellers must tell those seeking divination: a single good heart can outweigh all charms, feng shui, and titles. Just as Master Huineng, the Sixth Patriarch, said: "One's own mind constantly gives rise to wisdom, never parting from one's true nature, and that is a field of blessings."

The field of the heart is the field of blessings, and one's state of mind is one's feng shui. Grandfather cried out loudly in his book: "Adjusting your feng shui ten times is not as good as doing a single good deed!" This is the truth, and it is not spoken in vain. It precisely echoes the original words in the Book of Changes: "A family that accumulates goodness is bound to have abundant blessings, while a family that accumulates non-goodness is bound to have abundant misfortune."

After listening to Longfeng's Song of Mind and Destiny, I hesitated a few times before finally asking that question: "Old master, I've heard that your blind school has a formula called 'Falling Horses and Slanted Lu', which can directly determine a person's life and death. Is that true?"

"Hahahaha." He laughed looking up at the sky. "The only one who can directly determine life and death is King Yama. 'Falling Horses and Slanted Lu' is nothing more than applying the rules of prosperity and decline from the 'Table of Prosperity, Vow, Death, and Extinction of the Ten Heavenly Stems'. How could it be as miraculous as the jianghu legends make it out to be?"

Grandfather had taught us the "Table of Prosperity, Vow, Death, and Extinction of the Ten Heavenly Stems" back then. It was a description of the waxing and waning changes of the ten heavenly stems across the twelve months. It wasn't superstitious in itself; it was merely the ancients' explanation of the regular patterns of the five elements flowing through the four seasons.

The five elements are gold, wood, water, fire, and earth.

These five elements wax and wane throughout the four seasons, much like a child growing from infancy to old age, undergoing a process where their personal energy strengthens and weakens. It is divided into twelve stages: birth (chang-sheng), bathing (mu-yu), capping (guan-dai), official holding (lin-guan), flourishing (di-wang), decline (shuai), sickness (bing), death (si), grave (mu), extinction (jue), conception (tai), and nourishing (yang).

For example, Jia wood is towering tree wood. In the tenth lunar month (Hai month), Hai belongs to water among the twelve earthly branches, and water generates wood, so Jia wood's state in this month is "birth", just like a newborn child.

By the eleventh month, Zi month, the water force is even greater, and Jia wood's state at this time is "bathing", akin to a child playing in the water and washing away impurities from its body.

By the twelfth month, Chou month, Chou is damp earth, and damp earth nourishes wood. Jia wood begins to grow, and its state at this time is "capping", much like a person gradually reaching adulthood and undergoing the capping ceremony.

By extension, in the first month, Yin month, spring has arrived, and wood energy begins to flourish. At this time, Jia wood enters the "official holding" state, much like a person entering officialdom and beginning to accomplish something.

Then comes the second month, Mao month; this is the time when trees are lush and all grasses are thriving. Jia wood enters its optimal state of "flourishing", much like a person becoming an emperor and reaching the peak of life.

Then, as the weather warms up and midsummer and the golden autumn arrive, Jia wood must also follow the yin-yang law that extreme prosperity leads to decline, gradually entering the states of decline, sickness, death, grave, extinction, conception, and nourishing, year after year, repeating in a cycle.

The reasoning for the other nine heavenly stems is the same. This is the "Table of Prosperity, Vow, Death, and Extinction of the Ten Heavenly Stems" that has been mythologized in the divinatory arts world. The entire table is as follows:

This table is a detailed description by the ancients of the energy changes of the five elements across the four seasons, and a summary of natural laws. It contains no superstitious elements in itself, but once it fell into the hands of fortune-tellers, it became linked with human life and death. Terrifying prognostications such as "the old fear flourishing while the youth fear decline, and middle age most dreads death, extinction, and conception" rolled right off their tongues, easily scaring the ignorant half to death.

Blind fortune-telling is nothing more than applying these regular patterns of the five elements' waxing and waning. It's just that they are better at summarizing formulas, and because the formulas rhyme, they are easy for blind people to memorize. That is the fundamental truth. As for casually determining life and death, it is nothing more than a myth born of groundless hearsay.

Hearing Mr. Longfeng's words was better than reading ten years of misguided books.

Mr. Longfeng had told fortunes all his life, yet in the end, he only revered the Song of Mind and Destiny. This shows that sages ancient and modern ultimately realize the exact same truth. No wonder the old gentleman Yuan Shushan of the Republic era finally washed his hands in a golden basin.

In the middle of the night, the wind picked up. Sibaitou and I bid farewell to old Mr. Longfeng, walking drunkenly down the country path. The cold was piercing, but our hearts were exceptionally warm.

Looking up at the starry sky, we shouted at the top of our lungs, "Ah—ah—"

We didn't know why we were shouting, nor did we know what we wanted to shout out; we only felt that the half-century of congestion in our hearts had suddenly unlocked on this clear-winded and bright-mooned night.

We shouted with all our might, facing the moon, facing the Milky Way, facing the boundless vault of heaven.

As we shouted, we wept, and hugged each other tightly...

"Dad, is that you?" My daughter's voice drifted over. My wife had been worried at home and brought our son and daughter along with a flashlight to look for us.

Fourth Sister-in-law and the nephews had come too.

"What on earth are you two doing? It's so late and you still aren't home, shouting and screaming out here, what are you up to?" Fourth Sister-in-law said angrily.

Sibaitou and I burst into loud laughter and patted each other's shoulders. "Let's go! Back home."

The days that followed were spent helping Seventh Brother reunite with his wife. After some effort, we finally managed to make the elderly couple reconcile on the eve of the Little New Year.

Seventh Brother never ended up having a son, but he was still happy nonetheless. Having lived through so many storms, he cherished his wife and daughter even more. True to expectations, his younger daughter did not disappoint; relying on her father's clever genes, she was admitted to Peking University a few years later with the top score in the entire city, becoming the local female top scholar in the national college entrance examination.

When the time came to fill out college application choices, my daughter and son held the university directory and pondered undecidedly.

"Dad, I don't even know what major I should apply for," my daughter said, pouting.

I smiled and said, "Apply for whatever you want; my daughter is a talent of all-around excellence."

"Dad, I want to go to a military academy," my son said.

"A military academy? Can you handle that kind of hardship?"

"You always look down on me," my son said with displeasure.

"Then apply for a military academy, as long as you get accepted..."

"Dad, didn't Uncle Shangguanyue, who came to our house last time, encourage me to take the military academy exams? He said a man has to serve in the military, and a man who serves in the military is a real man."

I curled my lip. "I've never served in the military my whole life, so I'm not a man?"

My son's face turned red. "You haven't served in the military, but you served as Fifth Master..."

My wife rushed over and fiercely poked my son on the head. "Are you looking for a beating again?"

My son let out a mischievous laugh and ran off.

"Dad, never mind your brother, come help me look at this." My daughter said, holding the university directory.

I put on my reading glasses, flipped through it page by page, and after a long while said, "Study law."

"Law?"

"Right, punish the wicked and promote the good. Are you willing?"

"I... I'm willing. Actually, what I want to study most is medicine. Mom and Dad are getting older, and your health is getting worse and worse. If I study medicine, I can treat your illnesses..."

"Listen to that!" I turned to my wife and said, "Listen, that's my daughter!"

My wife let out a soft laugh, and a sense of happiness overflowed from her expression.

The children really had grown up. Growing up meant leaving; they had to have their own lives, step into society, get married, and start their own families. My wife and I would also walk to the end of our lives and eventually leave our children behind. Life is simply a gathering of people; when people gather there is laughter, and when the gathering ends everyone goes their separate ways.

I couldn't bear the thought of my children traveling far away. My daughter had always been the apple of my wife's and my eye, and though our son was mischievous, once he left, my heart would still feel empty.

On the day the two of them went off to university, my wife and I saw them onto the train, smiling and waving goodbye. After the train started moving, the moment I turned back, the tears came down.

My wife stood beside me, linking her arm through mine, and said, "What are you crying for? It's not like they aren't coming back." As she finished speaking, she began to cry too.

With the children gone, the house suddenly felt desolate. I returned to that feeling of desolation the Jiangxiang Sect had experienced after Grandfather left back then; that sense of loneliness was hard to bear. At night, my wife brewed a pot of tea for me.

I sat there blankly, then suddenly asked, "How many days has it been since our son and daughter left?"

"They just left yesterday. I think you've lost your mind," my wife said with a smile. "Drink your tea quickly before it gets cold."

"Why does it feel like they've been gone for ages?"

Four years later, both my daughter and son graduated. Our son, proclaiming grand ambitions, insisted on staying in Beijing and refused to return. Our daughter, understanding my wife's and my feelings, obediently came back to our city and took up a position in the respiratory department of the Municipal People's Hospital.

I was already sixty-five years old, my eyes were dim, and my hearing was failing. Sibaitou's physical condition was even worse; he couldn't walk anywhere without a walking stick. Old Seventh was still holding up okay; he frequently traveled to Beijing because his youngest daughter had married a Beijing local. The young couple treated Seventh and his wife very well, and every time he came back, Seventh would bring a few roast ducks, and then the three of us would have another round of heavy drinking.

Whenever we drank, we would think of the past, and we would think of Grandfather. The events of decades ago seemed as though they had just happened yesterday. Every time we drank too much, we would cry, and our wives didn't know what to do with us either. They all knew this was our life; if we wanted to cry, we should cry—how much longer could we even cry for? We were all people with one foot already in the yellow dirt, so go ahead and cry.