Chapter 4

If Chen Ping'an had not visited Fulu Street or Peach Leaf Lane, he might never have realized how dark and narrow Nibing Lane was. However, the young boy in straw sandals did not feel a sense of loss; instead, he finally felt at ease. He smiled and stretched out his hands, his palms just touching the yellow mud walls on both sides, remembering that about three or four years ago, Chen Ping'an could only reach the walls with his fingertips.

When he reached the front of his house, he found the courtyard gate wide open. Thinking it had been burglarized, the young boy rushed into the yard. He saw a tall boy sitting on the threshold, leaning against the locked door, yawning out of boredom. Upon seeing Chen Ping'an, the tall boy sprang up as if his pants were on fire, ran to Chen Ping'an, grabbed his arm tightly, and pulled him toward the house, lowering his voice, "Hurry up and open the door, I have something important to tell you!"

Chen Ping'an could not break free from the boy's grip and had to be dragged to open the door. The tall boy, who was two years older than Chen Ping'an, quickly pushed him away and tiptoed to Chen Ping'an's wooden bed, pressing his ear firmly against the wall to eavesdrop on the neighbors.

Chen Ping'an asked curiously, "Liu Xianyang, what are you doing?"

The tall boy ignored Chen Ping'an's question. After about half an incense stick's time, Liu Xianyang returned to normal, sitting on the edge of the wooden bed with a complex expression, a mix of relief and regret.

Only then did Liu Xianyang notice what Chen Ping'an was doing—a strange act. He was squatting inside the door, leaning out, using a small piece of candle, no bigger than a thumb, to burn a yellow paper, with the ashes falling outside the threshold. It seemed Chen Ping'an was muttering something, but Liu Xianyang, standing a bit far away, could not hear clearly.

Liu Xianyang was the last disciple of the old potter Yao, while the dull-witted Chen Ping'an was never truly recognized as a disciple by the old man. In the local area, if a disciple did not offer tea to the master, or the master did not drink the tea, it meant there was no master-disciple relationship. Chen Ping'an and Liu Xianyang were not neighbors; their ancestral homes were quite far apart. The reason Liu Xianyang introduced Chen Ping'an to Old Yao was due to a past grudge. Liu Xianyang was once a notorious troublemaker in the small town. Before his grandfather's death, there was at least an elder to keep him in line. After his grandfather passed away, the tall boy, already as strong as a young adult at twelve or thirteen, became a headache for the neighborhood. Later, for some reason, Liu Xianyang offended a group of the Lu family's young men and was cornered in Nibing Lane, receiving a severe beating. The attackers, all in their prime, did not hold back. Liu Xianyang soon began to vomit blood. The dozen or so households in Nibing Lane, mostly low-level potters, dared not get involved.

At the time, Song Jixin was not afraid at all; instead, he squatted on the wall, enjoying the spectacle, hoping for more chaos.

In the end, only a skinny child secretly slipped out of the yard, ran to the alley entrance, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Someone's dead! Someone's dead!"

Hearing the word "dead," the Lu family's young men were suddenly alarmed. Seeing Liu Xianyang, who was covered in blood and barely alive, they felt a wave of fear. They exchanged glances and ran away from the other end of Nibing Lane.

After that, Liu Xianyang did not thank the child who saved his life; instead, he came to torment and tease him every few days. The orphan was stubborn and refused to cry, no matter how Liu Xianyang bullied him, which only made the boy more frustrated. However, one year, Liu Xianyang noticed that the little orphan surnamed Chen was struggling to survive the winter. His conscience finally pricked him, and the young boy, who had already apprenticed at the kiln, took the orphan to the kiln by the Baoxi River. It was a snowy day, and they had to walk several dozen miles of mountain roads. Liu Xianyang still couldn't understand how the small, thin boy, with legs as thin as bamboo poles, managed to walk all the way to the kiln. Although Old Yao eventually took Chen Ping'an in, he treated the two boys very differently. He beat and scolded Liu Xianyang, but even a blind person could see the good intentions behind it. For example, once when he hit Liu Xianyang too hard, causing blood to seep from his forehead, the young boy, with his thick skin, didn't feel much, but Old Yao, feeling regretful, spent the whole night pacing in his room, still worried about Liu Xianyang. In the end, he called Chen Ping'an and sent him a bottle of ointment for Liu Xianyang.

For many years, Chen Ping'an had always envied Liu Xianyang.

Not for his high talent, great strength, or good relationships. He envied Liu Xianyang's fearlessness, his carefree attitude wherever he went, and his belief that living alone was not a bad thing. Liu Xianyang could quickly become friends with anyone, drinking and playing games. Because his grandfather was ill, Liu Xianyang had to be self-reliant from a young age, becoming a leader among the children, skilled in catching snakes, fishing, and nesting birds. He could make wooden bows, fishing rods, slingshots, and bird traps. In particular, he was the best in the small town at catching loaches and eels in the fields. When Liu Xianyang dropped out of school, Mr. Qi even went to his grandfather's sickbed, offering to teach him for free, but Liu Xianyang refused, saying he only wanted to earn money, not study. Mr. Qi even offered to hire Liu Xianyang as his personal assistant, but he still refused. In fact, Liu Xianyang lived quite well. Even after Old Yao died and the kiln was shut down, he was soon hired by a blacksmith in Qilong Lane, building a hut and a furnace in the south of the town, staying very busy.

Liu Xianyang watched Chen Ping'an blow out the candle and place it on the table, then asked in a low voice, "Do you ever hear strange sounds in the morning, like...?"

Chen Ping'an sat on a long bench, waiting for him to continue.

Liu Xianyang hesitated for a moment, blushing slightly, "Like the sound of cats in spring."

Chen Ping'an asked, "Is it Song Jixin imitating a cat, or Zhigui?"

Liu Xianyang rolled his eyes, no longer bothering to explain, and propped himself up on the bed, slowly bending and straightening his elbows, lifting his buttocks off the bed and his feet off the ground. His buttocks hanging in the air, he sneered, "What Zhigui? It's clearly Wang Zhu. Song Jixin has always liked to show off. He probably saw the word 'Zhigui' somewhere and used it without considering its meaning. Wang Zhu, with such a master, must have suffered in her past life to end up with Song Jixin."

Chen Ping'an did not agree with the tall boy's opinion.

Liu Xianyang, maintaining that posture, snorted, "Do you really not understand? Why did Wang Zhu stop talking to you after you helped her carry a bucket of water? It must be that petty Song Jixin, who threatened Wang Zhu not to talk to you, or else she would be punished, her legs broken, and she would be thrown into Nibing Lane..."

Chen Ping'an couldn't bear to listen anymore and interrupted Liu Xianyang, "Song Jixin isn't bad to her."

Liu Xianyang, angry and embarrassed, retorted, "What do you know about good and bad?"

Chen Ping'an's eyes were clear as he softly said, "Sometimes when she works in the yard, Song Jixin occasionally sits on a bench, reading a county gazette. When she looks at Song Jixin, she often smiles."

Liu Xianyang's eyes were blank.

Suddenly, the thin wooden bed could not support Liu Xianyang's weight and broke in half, sending the tall boy to the ground.

Chen Ping'an squatted on the ground, holding his head, sighing, feeling a headache.

Liu Xianyang scratched his head, stood up, and without saying anything apologetic, lightly kicked Chen Ping'an, grinning, "Alright, it's just a small broken bed. I came here to bring you a huge piece of good news, which is worth more than your broken bed!"

Chen Ping'an looked up.

Liu Xianyang, proud, said, "After my master, Mr. Ruan, left the town and went to the stream in the south, he suddenly said he wanted to dig some wells. Initially, there weren't enough people, so I mentioned you, saying there's a short gourd with decent strength. Mr. Ruan agreed and told you to come over these next few days."

Chen Ping'an suddenly stood up, about to thank him.

Liu Xianyang raised a hand, "Stop, stop! Great kindness doesn't need thanks! Just remember it in your heart!"

Chen Ping'an bared his teeth and grinned.

Liu Xianyang looked around, noticing a fishing rod in the corner, a slingshot on the window, and a wooden bow on the wall. He hesitated but finally held back from saying anything.

He stepped over the threshold, deliberately avoiding the ashes of the talismans.

Chen Ping'an watched the tall boy's back.

Liu Xianyang suddenly turned around, facing Chen Ping'an inside the threshold. He bent his waist, feet still on the ground, and ran a few steps, delivering a heavy punch, then straightened up, laughing loudly, "Mr. Ruan told me privately that I only need to practice this fist technique for a year to be able to kill someone!"

Liu Xianyang, still not satisfied, made a strange kicking motion, laughing, "This is called 'a good leg must enter the crotch, kicking to death a dazed donkey!'"

Finally, Liu Xianyang pointed to his chest with his thumb, proudly saying, "When Mr. Ruan taught me the fist technique, I shared some insights and ideas, like my understanding of Old Yao's unique 'jump-knife' technique. Mr. Ruan praised me as a once-in-a-century martial arts genius. In the future, just follow me, and you won't lack for good food and drink!"

Liu Xianyang, noticing the maid from the neighboring house had entered, lost his enthusiasm for playing the hero.

He casually said to Chen Ping'an, "By the way, when I passed the old locust tree, there was an old man claiming to be a storyteller setting up a stall, saying he has a belly full of interesting stories to tell. You can go check it out if you have time."

Chen Ping'an nodded.

Liu Xianyang strode out of Nibing Lane.

There were many stories about this independent and rebellious young boy in the small town. He liked to claim that his ancestors were generals who led armies, which is why his family had a precious armor passed down through generations.

When Chen Ping'an saw the armor, it was ugly, looking like warts on a person or knots on an old tree.

However, Liu Xianyang's peers did not agree. They said his ancestors were deserters who fled to the small town, married into a local family, and narrowly escaped the authorities. They spoke with certainty, as if they had personally witnessed how Liu Xianyang's ancestors fled the battlefield and wandered to the small town.

Chen Ping'an thought about it, squatted by the threshold, and blew away the ashes.

Song Jixin, standing by the wall, with his maid Zhigui, called out, "Do you want to go to the locust tree with us?"

Chen Ping'an looked up, "No, I won't go."

Song Jixin pulled at the corner of his mouth, "Boring."

He turned to his maid, smiling, "Zhigui, let's go! I'll buy you a whole jar of peach powder."

She blushed, "A small cricket jar is enough."

Song Jixin, hands behind his back, chest out, walked forward, "As a member of the Song family, we have a long history of nobility. How can we be petty? It would be a disgrace to our family!"

Chen Ping'an sat on the threshold, rubbing his forehead. This Song Jixin, when he didn't speak nonsense, wasn't actually that bad. But at times like this, if Liu Xianyang were there, he would definitely say he wanted to hit Song Jixin on the back of the head with a brick.

Chen Ping'an leaned against the door, thinking about the future. Tomorrow would be like today, and the day after tomorrow would be like tomorrow, repeating over and over. So his life would continue like this until he was like Old Yao.

People eat earth for a lifetime, and earth eats people once.

When he closed his eyes, and opened them again, it might be in the next life.

The young boy looked down at his straw sandals and suddenly laughed.

Stepping on the stone slabs felt different from stepping on the muddy ground.

——

Liu Xianyang left the alley and passed by a fortune-telling stall. The young Taoist called out, "Come, come, come! Your complexion is like a raging fire, a bad omen! But don't worry, I have a method to help you eliminate the disaster..."

Liu Xianyang was surprised. He remembered the Taoist used to read fortunes and interpret signs, but he never actively solicited customers. Perhaps now that the kiln was closed by the government, the Taoist was also in trouble and couldn't make ends meet, so he was willing to take any business. Liu Xianyang laughed and cursed, "Your method is to spend money to eliminate disaster, right? Get lost! If you want to cheat money from me, try in the next life!"

The young Taoist was not angry and loudly called to the tall boy, "Hoping for a good year, but fate brings disaster. Without disaster, one doesn't pray to the gods; to be safe, one must burn incense... You should burn inc