Chapter 6

Chen Ping'an arrived at the east gate and saw the man sitting cross-legged on a tree stump by the gate, lazily basking in the early spring sunshine, his eyes closed, humming a tune, and slapping his knees with both hands.

Chen Ping'an squatted beside him. For the young boy, the matter of collecting a debt was truly hard to bring up.

The boy could only quietly gaze at the wide road to the east, winding and long, like a thick yellow snake.

He habitually grabbed a handful of soil, clutched it in his palm, and slowly kneaded it.

He had once followed Old Man Yao through the mountains and hills around the town, carrying a heavy backpack filled with various items, including a machete and a hoe. Under the old man's guidance, they would walk and stop at various places. Chen Ping'an often had to "eat dirt," grabbing a handful of soil and putting it directly into his mouth, chewing it and savoring its taste. Over time, he became skilled, and Chen Ping'an could tell the texture of the soil just by rubbing it with his fingers. Later, when it came to broken porcelain shards from old kilns, Chen Ping'an could tell which kiln and even which master had made them just by handling them.

Although Old Man Yao was eccentric, unsociable, and often beat and scolded Chen Ping'an, there was once when he found Chen Ping'an to be too dull, a complete dolt, and in a fit of anger, left him in the wilderness, returning to the kiln alone. By the time the young boy had walked sixty miles of mountain paths and approached the dragon kiln, it was already late at night. That day, it was pouring rain, and when the boy, staggering through the mud, finally saw a distant light, the stubborn young boy felt the urge to cry for the first time after fending for himself.

But the young boy never blamed the old man, nor did he bear a grudge.

The young boy's family was poor, and he had never been to school, but he understood a truth beyond the books: in this world, besides one's parents, no one is obligated to be good to you.

And his parents had passed away early.

Chen Ping'an patiently daydreamed, and the unkempt man seemed to realize he couldn't get away with it, so he opened his eyes and smiled, "It's just five coins, man. If you're so petty, you won't amount to much in the future."

Chen Ping'an looked helpless, "Aren't you being petty too?"

The man grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow, crooked teeth, and said, "So, if you don't want to end up like me, a lonely old man, don't worry about those five coins."

Chen Ping'an sighed, looked up, and said seriously, "If you're short on money, I'll let you off this time, but we agreed that one coin per letter, no more excuses."

The man, who exuded a sour smell, turned his head and smiled, "Kid, with your stubborn temper, you'll easily get into trouble. Haven't you heard the old saying, 'It's a blessing to suffer a loss'? If you can't even take a small loss..."

He glanced at the soil in the boy's hand, paused, and said teasingly, "You'll end up working the land all your life."

Chen Ping'an retorted, "Didn't I just say I wouldn't take the five coins? Isn't that taking a small loss?"

The man was taken aback, looking annoyed, and waved him away, "Get lost, kid. Talking to you is exhausting."

Chen Ping'an loosened his fingers, dropped the soil, and stood up, saying, "The tree stump is damp..."

The man looked up and laughed, "Do I need you to teach me? Young men have strong yang energy, they can fry pancakes on their butts!"

The man turned his head and glanced at the young boy's back, pursing his lips and muttering something, as if cursing the heavens.

---

Mr. Qi, the tutor, had unexpectedly ended his lessons early today.

Behind the school, there was a yard with a small wooden gate to the north, leading to a bamboo grove.

While Song Jixi and his maid were listening to a story under the old locust tree, someone called him to play chess. Song Jixi was reluctant, but the person said it was Mr. Qi's wish to see how their chess skills had improved. Song Jixi had a vague feeling of respect and fear for the stern Mr. Qi, so when Mr. Qi gave the order, he had no choice but to agree, though he insisted on waiting until the story was finished before going to the school's backyard. The young man in green, who had delivered the message, returned home first, reminding Song Jixi not to be too late, emphasizing that their teacher was very particular about rules and disliked people who broke their word.

Song Jixi, digging his ear, said impatiently, "I know, I know."

When Song Jixi and Zhigui arrived at the school's backyard, a cool breeze was blowing, and the refined young man in green was already sitting on a stool to the south, sitting straight and formally.

Song Jixi plopped down opposite him, facing south.

Mr. Qi sat to the west, always silent during the game.

Zhigui, the maid, would always take a walk in the bamboo grove whenever her young master played chess, to avoid disturbing the three "scholars," and today was no exception.

In this small town, there were few so-called scholarly families, so scholars were rare.

According to Mr. Qi's old rules, Song Jixi and the young man in green had to guess the number of stones, with the one holding black going first.

Song Jixi and his peer had started learning chess almost simultaneously, but Song Jixi, being naturally talented, had made rapid progress, so Mr. Qi, who taught them both, considered him the higher-ranked player. When guessing the number of stones, Song Jixi would first take a handful of white stones from the box, keeping the number secret. The young man in green would then pick one or two black stones, and if he guessed the parity of the white stones correctly, he could go first, gaining the advantage. In the first two years of their matches, whether holding white or black, Song Jixi had never lost.

However, Song Jixi was not particularly interested in chess, often playing intermittently, while the less talented young man in green, being both a student and a book boy, spent a lot of time with Mr. Qi, even just watching him study chess patterns, which greatly benefited him. As a result, the young man in green, who initially could only occasionally win when holding black, now had a fifty-fifty chance of winning whenever he held black, showing significant improvement. Mr. Qi did not comment on this shift, merely observing.

Just as Song Jixi was about to grab the stones, Mr. Qi suddenly said, "Today, you will play a 'seated stone' game, with the one holding white going first."

Both boys were puzzled, not knowing what a "seated stone" game was.

Mr. Qi explained the rules calmly, which were not complicated, just placing a black and a white stone on each of the four star points.

The middle-aged scholar's movements were smooth and graceful, a pleasure to watch.

The young man in green, who usually adhered strictly to the rules, was stunned by this "bad news," staring at the board in a daze, and finally said cautiously, "Sir, this way, many of the usual patterns won't apply."

Song Jixi frowned in thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up, and he said, "The board layout is smaller."

He looked up and asked with a smile, "Right, Mr. Qi?"

The middle-aged scholar nodded, "Indeed."

Song Jixi raised an eyebrow at his peer and asked with a smile, "Should I let you have two stones first, otherwise this guy will definitely lose."

The young man across from him blushed, stammering, because he knew that his increasing number of victories, besides his own improvement, was mainly due to Song Jixi's growing lack of interest in chess over the past two years. Song Jixi had become increasingly distracted and even annoyed, often letting the other win or making risky moves to capture a large group of stones.

For Song Jixi, the fun and interest in chess were the most important.

For the young man in green, from the first time he placed a stone on the board, he was obsessed with winning and losing.

Mr. Qi looked at his student, "You can go first with white."

The young man in green moved slowly, cautiously, and methodically, while Song Jixi moved quickly, boldly, and ingeniously.

Their personalities were worlds apart.

After about eighty moves, the young man in green was thoroughly defeated, hanging his head in silence, his lips tightly pressed together.

Song Jixi, his elbow on the table, his chin in his hand, and his fingers holding a stone, gently tapped the stone table, staring at the board.

According to Mr. Qi's rules, one could resign by silently placing a stone, without saying "I lose."

Despite his reluctance, the young man in green slowly placed a stone.

Mr. Qi instructed his student, "Go practice your calligraphy. You don't need to clean up the board. Write three hundred 'Yong' characters."

The young man in green quickly stood up, bowed respectfully, and left.

After the young man's figure disappeared, Song Jixi asked softly, "Sir, are you leaving here too?"

The middle-aged scholar, with white hair at his temples, nodded, "I will leave within a week."

Song Jixi smiled, "That's perfect, I can see you off."

The teacher hesitated for a moment and finally said, "There's no need to see me off. Song Jixi, when you leave the town, remember not to be too showy. I have nothing else to give you, but you can take the three basic books, 'Xiao Xue,' 'Li Yue,' and 'Guan Zhi,' and review them often. Remember, reading a book a hundred times, its meaning will become clear. If you can read ten thousand books, your writing will be as if guided by a divine hand. The true meaning... you will understand in the future. As for the three miscellaneous books, 'Jing Wei' on mathematics, 'Tao Li' on chess, and 'Shan Hai Ce' on literature, you can read them in your free time for pleasure and cultivation."

Song Jixi looked surprised and a bit awkward, and said boldly, "Sir, it feels like you're 'entrusting me with a task,' which makes me uncomfortable."

Mr. Qi smiled gently, "It's not as dramatic as you think. We will meet again someday."

When the teacher smiled, it was like a warm spring breeze.

He suddenly said, "Go see Zhao You, consider it a farewell."

Song Jixi stood up and laughed, "Alright. Then I'll leave the cleanup to you, sir."

The boy ran off happily.

The middle-aged scholar bent down to clean up the stones, seemingly randomly, but in fact, he picked them up in order, starting with the last black stone placed by Song Jixi, working backward, not missing a single one.

Unbeknownst to him, the maid Zhigui had already returned from the bamboo grove and was standing by the gate, not entering the yard.

He did not turn his head, and said in a deep voice, "Take care of yourself."

The girl, who had grown up in Niping Alley, looked puzzled, gentle, and timid, pitifully.

The refined scholar's face showed a hint of anger, and he slowly turned to look at her.

His eyes were cold.

The girl still looked confused.

Innocent and pure.

The middle-aged scholar stood up, elegant and dignified, looked at the girl, and said coldly, "Wicked offspring!"

The girl slowly lost her innocent look, her eyes turning cold, a mocking smile on her lips.

It was as if she was saying, "What can you do to me?"

She stared directly at the scholar.

It was as if a pair of pythons were facing off inside and outside the courtyard.

They regarded each other as enemies.

In the distance, Song Jixi called out, "Zhigui, let's go home."

The girl immediately tiptoed and replied obediently, "Yes, Master."

She pushed open the gate, ran past the teacher, and after a few steps, turned around and gave a respectful bow, her voice sweet and pleasant, "Sir, Zhigui is leaving first."

After a long while, the scholar sighed.

The spring breeze was gentle, the bamboo leaves rustled, like the sound of turning pages.

---

The young Taoist, wearing a lotus cap, was packing up his stall, sighing. When familiar townspeople asked why, he only shook his head and did not answer.

The last woman who had once come to have her marriage fortune told, passed by, saw the young Taoist's unusual behavior, and shyly stopped, her voice soft and sweet, her eyes lingering on the young Taoist's handsome face.

The young Taoist glanced at the woman, his eyes slightly lowering to a plump landscape, then swallowed and said in a mysterious tone, "Today, I drew a bad fortune for myself, a very bad one."

---

The page ends here.