Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen: Marcus

"It seems quite complicated, doesn't it?" A bantering voice drifted from behind Luo Hanyai, as if someone had been waiting there for a long time.

Luo Hanyai set down his notebook and turned slowly, though he was taken aback. It was not at all what he had expected; he had assumed Manluo would be watching him from the shadows. But it was not Manluo who stood before him, but a strange old man. Luo Hanyai scanned the visitor from head to toe. The man was dressed in plain white linen. Despite his snowy hair, the faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth immediately established him in Luo Hanyai's mind as a "sage who held all things in his grasp." There was a composure about him, a natural, intimate smile that exuded the confidence of someone who had everything firmly under control.

And the one thing Luo Hanyai despised most was that very feeling—the feeling of being controlled. He decided to play the ruffian, spitting on the floor toward the old man. "What? Whether it's complicated or not is my business. Who are you? What does it have to do with you?"

"Oh, quite the temper, aren't we? What’s wrong? Got a grievance inside? Want me to help you vent that frustration?" The old man clearly hadn't expected such a retort, but he maintained his natural, friendly smile, shaking his head. His tone shifted, becoming somewhat cynical—or perhaps, it was just a way to out-scoundrel Luo Hanyai. The old man kept his confident demeanor, yet now he resembled an out-and-out hoodlum, emboldened and unbridled, as if he had seen through everything and had Luo Hanyai exactly where he wanted him.

Luo Hanyai’s brows knit tightly. He instinctively looked away from the old man’s gaze, furtively scanning the room, treating the old man as if he were mere air, all while searching for clues. Inside, however, he was burning with anxiety.

"Young man, might I have the honor of knowing your name?" The old man didn't seem to care about Luo Hanyai's attitude. He strolled around him leisurely, observing him from every angle, much like a lecher sizing up his prey.

"Hey! Back off, you creep, quit hovering in front of me." Luo Hanyai struggled to remain composed, but he was infuriated by the old man's provocation. He knew full well that he was at a disadvantage in this game, but he didn't believe he had lost yet. He still had a chance to turn the tables, if only he could seize the right moment...

The old man stared at Luo Hanyai’s grim face for a moment, and as if he could no longer hold it in, he clutched his stomach and erupted into exaggerated laughter.

Luo Hanyai’s expression remained dark. He said nothing, simply watching the old man in silence, waiting for what would come next.

"Oh, you’ve got a bit of backbone, haven't you, youngster? Realized where the problem lies already?" The old man nodded in satisfaction, his gaze that of a mentor looking at a mediocre protégé.

"Who exactly are you? Stop playing these mind games!" Luo Hanyai stared at him warily. Sweat had long since soaked through his clothes. It was the first time he had encountered such a situation, and the sensation was unsettling. For the first time, Luo Hanyai felt his vaunted intellect being thoroughly suppressed. The old man’s gentle gaze washed over his defenses like water, peering into all his secrets, leaving him feeling like a lamb stripped bare, waiting for the wolf to strike.

"I am who I am, a firework of a different color." The old man seemed to enjoy the sensation of teasing Luo Hanyai, his lips curling into a knowing, enigmatic smile.

"Hmph, fine. Keep your secrets. There’s no reason for me to stay here any longer. Goodbye." Luo Hanyai turned decisively, preparing to head back the way he came, seemingly intent on never seeing this old scoundrel again.

"Hey! Let's talk this through properly!" The old man shook his head helplessly, seemingly caught off guard by Luo Hanyai’s abrupt move. "You can call me Macarius."

"Macarius?" Luo Hanyai tilted his head in thought. His mind felt a bit muddled; the name sounded familiar, yet he couldn't quite place where he had heard it before.

"Heh, now that you know my name, can we have a proper conversation?"

"How should we talk? About what? What is there to talk about?" Luo Hanyai stared intently at Macarius, firing off questions like a machine gun.

"Young man, don't be so rash. Since I arrived, I haven't shown any malice. I don't know why you're so hostile toward me." Macarius asked, looking genuinely puzzled by Luo Hanyai's attitude.

"This..." Luo Hanyai paused. Thinking about it, it was true. All his hostility stemmed from a mere gut feeling, without any real justification. It was simple dislike, or perhaps, an instinctual fear—a fear of a wisdom that could master everything.

"Then you can call me Ba Ba," Luo Hanyai said, rolling his eyes and attempting the same trick again.

"Oh?" A smile lingered on Macarius's lips, and he sighed with what seemed like genuine disappointment. "Why bother? We both know these little games. I’m old enough to be your grandfather; why act like this?"

"I can't explain it, but I just feel uncomfortable." Luo Hanyai blinked and found himself involuntarily lowering his head. Gone was his previous calm and resilience; if the earlier Luo Hanyai had been like a machine of absolute coldness, he now felt like a child caught in a mistake, repenting before his elder.

"Haha, I see. So that's how it is." Macarius gave a hearty laugh. "You don't need to be like that. I only came here to tell you one thing."

"Oh? What is it?" Luo Hanyai asked, startled and confused.

"You'll understand once you see this." Macarius placed a tarot card into Luo Hanyai's hand, his expression heavy with meaning.

"You..." Luo Hanyai didn't look at the card immediately. A thought struck him, and his face drained of color. He took a deep breath. "Saint Macarius! Are you Saint Macarius?"

"A name is just a designation; it represents nothing. Besides, how do you know this is my real name? Aren't you afraid I'm just feeding you a fake one?" Macarius straightened his linen robe, looking deep into Luo Hanyai's eyes.

Luo Hanyai’s eyes brightened, as if he had grasped a truth. "Indeed, it is just a designation. I understand. Thank you for your guidance..."

"As long as you understand, that is all that matters!"

The old man calling himself Macarius waved a hand at Luo Hanyai with a look of satisfaction. His white linen robe radiated a soft light that washed over Luo Hanyai, feeling like a mother's gentle caress, causing him to close his eyes involuntarily. When he opened them again, the space was empty. The old man was nowhere to be seen.

"I still have a long way to go." Luo Hanyai shook his head, pushing the emotions stirred by the old man to the back of his mind, and turned his attention to the tarot card he had been given.