Chen Ping'an arrived at the East Gate and saw the man sitting cross-legged on a tree stump at the fence, lazily basking in the early spring sun. With his eyes closed, he hummed a little tune while patting his knees with both hands.
Chen Ping'an squatted beside him. For the young man, asking for money was quite difficult and hard to speak about.
So, he simply gazed quietly at the wide road stretching eastward, long and winding, resembling a thick yellow snake.
He habitually picked up a handful of dirt, clenched it in his palm, and slowly began to rub it.
He had once followed the old man, Yao, around the outskirts of the town, climbing mountains and crossing valleys, carrying a heavy pack filled with various tools like a machete and a hoe. They would often stop at different places, and Chen Ping'an had to "eat dirt" frequently, picking up soil and directly putting it in his mouth to chew and savor the taste. Over time, he became adept at it. Even with just his fingers, he could tell the texture of the soil. Later, when looking at broken porcelain shards from some old kilns, Chen Ping'an could tell which kiln they came from and even which master had fired them.
Although Old Man Yao was reclusive and unsociable, often scolding and beating Chen Ping'an, there was one time when Yao felt the boy's aptitude was too poor, so he threw him out into the wilderness, returning to the kiln by himself. It was only after walking sixty miles through the mountains and reaching the dragon kiln late at night, in heavy rain, that the stubborn boy, while struggling in the mud, finally saw a light in the distance. At that moment, he had the urge to cry after living alone and struggling for the first time.
However, the boy never blamed the old man or held any grudge.
Chen Ping'an came from a poor family, had never read books, but he understood a life lesson outside of books: in this world, apart from parents, no one is obligated to be kind to you.
And his parents were gone early.
Chen Ping'an endured the awkwardness and stared at the lazy man, who seemed to think that there was no way to fool him any longer. He opened his eyes and smiled, saying, "It's just five wen. A man who's so petty will never amount to much."
Chen Ping'an sighed helplessly, "Aren't you being petty?"
The man grinned, showing a row of uneven yellow teeth, and chuckled, "That's why, if you don't want to end up like me, a bachelor, don't dwell on those five wen."
Chen Ping'an sighed again, lifting his head and said seriously, "If you're really short on money, forget about the five wen, but we agreed that each letter will cost a copper coin from now on. No more defaults."
The man, with a strong sour smell, turned his head, smiling and squinting, "Kid, with your pitiful temper, you'll be easily taken advantage of in the future. Haven't you heard the old saying, 'suffering is a blessing'? If you refuse even the small losses..."
He glanced at the dirt in the boy's hand, paused, and teasingly said, "You'll end up with a life of facing the yellow earth and turning your back on the sky."
Chen Ping'an retorted, "Didn't I just say that I won't take the five wen? Isn't that a small loss?"
The man seemed a bit deflated and irritated, waving his hand to shoo him away, "Go, go, chatting with you is a hassle."
Chen Ping'an released his grip on the dirt, tossed it aside, stood up, and said, "The tree stump is damp..."
The man looked up, scolded, "Do I need you to teach me? You're young, full of vitality. You could even fry pancakes on your backside!"
The man turned his head to glance at the boy's retreating figure, curling his lips, muttering something that sounded like cursing the heavens.
The teacher, Mr. Qi, unexpectedly finished his lessons early today.
There was a small yard behind the school, with a low wooden gate on the north side that led into the bamboo forest.
While Song Jixin and his maid were listening to stories under the old locust tree, they were called to play chess. Song Jixin was reluctant, but the person said it was Mr. Qi's request and that he wanted to see if their chess skills had improved. Song Jixin had an inexplicable feeling towards the unyielding Mr. Qi—respect mixed with fear. Since Mr. Qi himself had given the order, Song Jixin had to comply, but he insisted on waiting until the storyteller finished before heading to the schoolyard. The messenger, a young man in a green robe, had to leave first, repeatedly reminding Song Jixin not to be late, rambling on about how Mr. Qi was very strict and did not like people breaking promises.
Song Jixin, picking his ears, wearily replied, "I know, I know."
When Song Jixin arrived with Zhi Gui at the back of the school, a cool breeze blew, and the young man in the green robe, as usual, was sitting on a bench to the south, sitting up straight and poised.
Song Jixin plopped down on the opposite side, facing south.
Mr. Qi sat on the west side, silently observing the game.
Every time Song Jixin played chess, Zhi Gui would walk in the bamboo forest to avoid disturbing the "scholars." Today was no different.
In this small town, there were hardly any scholarly families, so scholars were rare and precious.
According to the rules set by Mr. Qi, Song Jixin and the young man in the green robe would guess who would go first, with the black pieces starting.
Song Jixin and the young man had almost started learning chess at the same time. But Song Jixin was highly talented, progressing rapidly, so Mr. Qi, who taught both of them, regarded him as a higher level player. When it was time to guess, Song Jixin would pull out a few white pieces from the chess box without showing the number, keeping it secret. The green-robed young man would then pick one or two black pieces, and based on whether the white pieces were even or odd, the black pieces would go first, which gave the black player an advantage. In the first two years, no matter whether Song Jixin played white or black, he never lost.
However, Song Jixin wasn't very interested in chess. He played sporadically, while the green-robed young man, who was both a student and a servant, spent every day with Mr. Qi, benefiting from watching and learning. Over time, his skill improved to the point that when playing black, he was almost evenly matched with Song Jixin.
But to Mr. Qi, who simply observed without comment, the changing dynamic was natural.
Just as Song Jixin was about to grab a piece, Mr. Qi suddenly said, "Today, you two will play a game of 'Seat Chess,' with white going first."
Both boys were puzzled and didn't know what "Seat Chess" was.
Mr. Qi explained the rules calmly and carefully, but simply, placing a black and a white piece on the four-star positions on the board.
The middle-aged man's movements were skillful and fluid, like flowing water, pleasing to the eye.
The usually meticulous green-robed young man, upon hearing this "bad news," stared blankly at the board, eventually saying cautiously, "Sir, it seems that many established patterns won't work now."
Song Jixin furrowed his brow in thought for a moment, then his eyes brightened as he relaxed and said, "The board's layout is smaller."
He then smiled and proudly asked, "Right, Mr. Qi?"
The middle-aged scholar nodded, "Indeed."
Song Jixin raised an eyebrow at the young man across from him, grinning, "Want me to give you two moves to start? Otherwise, you're definitely going to lose."
The young man blushed and fidgeted, knowing full well that his increased wins over the past two years were more due to Song Jixin becoming less focused on chess and even letting him win occasionally. Sometimes, even when Song Jixin had an advantage, he would intentionally play risky moves just to have fun.
For Song Jixin, the fun of chess was more important than winning.
For the green-robed young man, from the very first piece he placed, it was all about winning.
Mr. Qi turned to his student, "You may go first with the white pieces."
The green-robed young man played slowly, cautiously, making careful moves, while Song Jixin played quickly and boldly.
The difference in their personalities was clear.
After more than eighty moves, the green-robed young man lost miserably, lowering his head, lips tight.
Song Jixin rested his elbow on the table, supporting his chin, and with two fingers, gently tapped the stone table as he observed the game.
According to Mr. Qi's rules, when a game ended, the loser simply placed his pieces down without saying, "I lost."
Despite his unwillingness, the green-robed young man slowly conceded.
Mr. Qi told his student, "Go practice writing. No need to clean up the board. Write three hundred 'Yong' characters."
The young man hurriedly stood, respectfully bowing before leaving.
After the boy's figure disappeared, Song Jixin softly asked, "Is Mr. Qi also leaving soon?"
The white-haired scholar nodded, "In about ten days, I will be leaving."
Song Jixin smiled, "In that case, I can send you off."
The teacher hesitated for a moment but then said, "No need to send me off. Song Jixin, when you leave the town, remember not to be too conspicuous. I have nothing but three books on elementary learning: 'Xiaoxue,' 'Liyue,' and 'Guan Zhi.' You can take them and review them often. You should know that reading a book a hundred times reveals its meaning. If you can read tens of thousands of books, you will write with divine inspiration. The true meaning here... you will understand in time."
Song Jixin was surprised and a little embarrassed. Gathering his courage, he said, "It feels like you're entrusting me with something, and I'm not sure how to take it."
Mr. Qi smiled gently, "It's not as dramatic as you think. In life, we will meet again one day."
When he smiled, his warmth was like spring breezes.
He suddenly said, "Go see Zhao Yao. It's a way to say goodbye in advance."
Song Jixin stood up and smiled, "Alright, then I'll leave the game to you, Teacher."
The boy joyfully ran off.
The middle-aged scholar bent down to tidy up the chess pieces. At first glance, the pieces seemed scattered, here a black one, there a white one, disorderly, but in reality, he started picking up the pieces from the last black one Song Jixin had placed, following a reverse order, one by one, without missing a single piece.
At some point, the maid Zhi Gui had already returned from the bamboo forest. She stood outside the little gate but did not step inside the yard.
He did not turn around and spoke in a low voice, "Take care."
The girl, who had grown up in the Mud Bottle Alley, now had a confused expression on her face. She looked delicate and shy, with a pitiful, helpless air.
The refined scholar faintly showed a trace of anger. Slowly, he turned and looked at her.
His gaze was cold.
The girl still appeared to be in a daze.
Innocent and pure.
The middle-aged scholar stood up, like a jade tree in the wind, gazing at the girl. He sneered and said, "Unworthy bastard!"
The girl slowly retracted the innocent look on her face. Her expression turned colder, and a mocking smile appeared on her lips.
It seemed like she was saying, What can you do to me?
She stared directly at the scholar.
It felt as though there were two serpents facing off inside and outside the little courtyard.
They eyed each other like enemies.
In the distance, Song Jixin called out, "Zhi Gui, time to go home!"
The girl immediately stood on tiptoe and replied obediently, "Yes, Young Master."
She pushed open the little gate and ran past the teacher. After running a few steps, she did not forget to turn around and give a respectful bow to the scholar's back. She spoke softly, her voice sweet and gentle, "Teacher, Zhi Gui is leaving now."
After a long pause, the scholar sighed.
The spring breeze was gentle, the bamboo leaves swayed, like the sound of turning pages.
The young Taoist, wearing a lotus crown, was packing up his stall, sighing. The familiar townsfolk who passed by asked him the reason, but he only shook his head and didn't answer.
The last woman who had once consulted him about matchmaking, now a newlywed, happened to pass by. Seeing the young Taoist acting so unusually, she stopped shyly. Her voice was soft and sweet, but her eyes, which spoke volumes, lingered on the young Taoist's handsome face.
The Taoist glanced at the woman without showing any emotion. His gaze fell slightly downward, where a rather suggestive sight could be seen. He swallowed and muttered some mystical-sounding words, "Today, I drew a divination for myself. It's a bad omen, a great misfortune."