Chapter 7

In the apricot blossom alley, there is a well called the Iron Lock Well. A chain as thick as a young man's arm hangs year after year inside the well. No one knows when the well and the iron lock were created, or who did such a strange and pointless thing. Even the oldest man in the town cannot explain the details.

It is said that once, a curious person in the town tried to measure the length of the iron chain, ignoring the old people's warnings. There was an old rule passed down by word of mouth: "For every foot of iron chain pulled out of the well, one year of life is lost." The person didn't take it seriously and pulled the chain for the duration of a joss stick. After pulling out a large amount of chain, he still couldn't see the end. Exhausted, he left the chain coiled beside the well, saying he would come back the next day, determined not to believe in such nonsense.

That night, the person returned home and died in bed, bleeding from all seven orifices, with his eyes wide open. No matter how hard his family tried, they couldn't close his eyes. Finally, an old man who had lived near the well for generations told the family to carry the body to the well. The old man "watched" as he put the chain back into the well. When the chain was fully submerged in the water, the body finally closed its eyes.

An old man and a young boy slowly walked towards the Iron Lock Well. The boy, with snot hanging from his nose, told the story clearly and orderly, unlike a child who had only been in school for half a year. The boy looked up, his big eyes like two black grapes, and sniffed, retracting the snot. He looked at the storyteller holding a large white bowl and said, "I'm done. Now you should show me what's in your bowl, right?"

The old man laughed and said, "Don't be in a hurry. Let's sit down by the well, and I'll show you."

The boy "kindly" reminded him, "No going back on your word, or you'll die a bad death. You'll fall into the well as soon as you get there, and I won't help you. Or a thunderbolt will strike you, turning you into a piece of charcoal. Then I'll use a stone to crush you bit by bit..."

The old man, hearing the boy's rapid and varied curses, felt a headache and quickly said, "I'll definitely show you. By the way, who taught you these words?"

The boy said firmly, "My mother, of course!"

The old man sighed, "Truly a place of outstanding people and beautiful scenery."

The boy suddenly stopped and frowned, "Are you insulting me? I know some people like to say good things in a bad way, like Song Jixin!"

The old man quickly denied it and changed the subject, "Does the town often have strange things happen?"

The boy nodded.

The old man asked, "Tell me about them."

The boy pointed at the old man, seriously, "For example, you're carrying a big white bowl but won't let anyone put coins in it. Before you finished your story, my mother said you were good at telling stories, but you seemed like a swindler. So she asked me to give you some money, but you refused. What's in the bowl?"

The old man was speechless.

It turned out that after finishing his story under the old locust tree, the storyteller asked the boy to lead him to the apricot blossom alley to see the well. The boy was initially reluctant, but the old man said the white bowl had something special inside. The boy, naturally lively and mischievous, was always curious. He would follow Liu Xianyang and his friends around, but he could also be incredibly patient, like when he waited in the sun for half an hour to catch an eel or a loach.

So when the old man said what was in the bowl, the boy immediately took the bait.

Even when the old man made a strange request, asking to lift the boy to see how heavy he was, the boy agreed without hesitation. After all, being lifted a few times wouldn't hurt.

But the boy's eyes rolled when the old man, with the bowl in his left hand, tried to lift him with his right hand several times but failed. The boy glanced at the old man's thin arms and legs, thinking that Chen Ping'an, a poor guy, was much stronger than this old man. However, the boy, who seemed to have a precocious mind, held back from saying anything that would embarrass the old man. In the apricot blossom alley, when it came to arguing and speaking sarcastically, this boy could rank third, second was the scholar Song Jixin, and first was his mother.

When they reached the well, the old man didn't sit on the well's edge.

The ancient well was built with blue bricks, and the old man's breathing became heavy.

The boy walked to the well, turned his back to it, and jumped, landing on the well's edge. This made the old man break out in a cold sweat, thinking that if the boy fell in, it would be impossible to retrieve the body given the well's history.

The old man slowly approached, squinted, and examined the iron chain, one end of which was tied in a knot at the bottom of the well.

"Feng Shui treasure land, the best in the region."

The old man looked around, feeling a mix of emotions, thinking, "I wonder who will end up with this great treasure?"

The old man extended his free left hand and stared at his palm.

The palm lines were intricate and complex.

But a new line appeared, slowly extending, like a crack in a porcelain vase.

A divine person could see the world in a palm.

But at the moment, the old man was only looking at himself.

The old man frowned and exclaimed, "In just half a day, it's already this bad. What about the others?"

The boy, standing on the well's edge, put his hands on his hips and pointed at the old man, shouting, "Are you going to show me the white bowl or not?!"

The old man said helplessly, "Come down, come down. I'll show you the white bowl."

The boy was skeptical but finally jumped down.

The old man hesitated for a moment, his face solemn, "Little boy, we have a connection. I can show you the mystery of this bowl, but you mustn't tell anyone, not even your mother. If you can do that, I'll show you. If not, even if you badmouth me, I won't show you a thing."

The boy blinked, "Let's start."

The old man solemnly walked to the well's edge, bent down, and found the boy sitting with his legs apart on the well's edge. The old man regretted involving this unruly child.

The old man cleared his mind, faced the well, and grabbed the bottom of the large white bowl with his five fingers, tilting his palm slightly, almost imperceptibly.

The boy felt he had waited long enough, but the white bowl showed no signs of movement, and the old man maintained his posture.

Just as the boy's snot was about to reach his mouth and his patience was wearing thin, a thin stream of water, as thick as a finger, poured out of the white bowl and fell into the well, silently.

The boy bared his teeth, ready to curse.

He suddenly closed his mouth, surprised. After a moment, his face changed from shock to confusion, then to fear. He jumped off the well and ran home.

It turned out that the amount of water the old man poured from the white bowl into the well was more than a large water tank. Yet, water kept pouring out of the bowl.

The boy thought he must have seen a ghost in broad daylight.

——

Liu Xianyang casually broke a budding branch from the roadside and started practicing sword techniques, spinning like a rolling wheel, not caring about his new boots, kicking up dust on the path.

The tall young man left the town, heading south. After crossing the covered bridge built by Lord Song, he walked for about three or four li to the blacksmith shop run by the Ruan family. Liu Xianyang, usually proud and arrogant, was deeply impressed by Master Ruan's words, "We are here to forge swords."

The idea of having a real sword one day made Liu Xianyang excited. He threw the branch away and started running and shouting wildly.

Thinking about the boxing techniques Master Ruan had taught him in private, he began practicing, looking quite impressive and powerful.

The young man got closer to the covered bridge.

At the north end of the bridge, four people were sitting on the steps: a plump and graceful woman holding a boy in a bright red robe, who held his chin high like a victorious general. On the other end of the steps, a tall old man with white hair was consoling a pouting little girl, who looked like a delicate porcelain doll, her skin so translucent in the sunlight that the veins beneath could be seen clearly.

The two children had just had an argument, the girl on the verge of tears, the boy more smug.

The old man, tall like a small mountain, ignored the apologetic look from the woman.

At the bottom of the steps stood a young man surnamed Lu, the eldest grandson of the Lu family's patriarch, named Lu Zhengchun. Perhaps the local environment had a nurturing effect, as the people born and raised in the town were generally more attractive than those from elsewhere. However, Lu Zhengchun had been drained by alcohol and women, making him even more unappealing to the four people on the steps. The Lu family owned the most and largest dragon kilns in the town, and their descendants had spread far and wide. But the once powerful Lu Zhengchun now looked nervous, pale, and tense, as if a small mistake could lead to his family's destruction.

The boy spoke in a language the townspeople couldn't understand, "Mother, is the ancestor of this Liu family really...?"

As he was about to say the name, the woman immediately covered his mouth, "Before we left, your father warned you many times not to name anyone here."

The boy pried her hand away, his eyes burning, and whispered, "Do they really have the treasure armor and sword manual passed down through generations?"

The woman lovingly stroked her son's head and said softly, "The Lu family guarantees with half of their family history that both items are still in that young man's home."

The boy suddenly pouted, "Mother, can we trade with the Bai family for the treasure? The armor we planned is too ugly. Think about it, Mother, if we get the sword manual, we can summon swords in our dreams to take heads, completely undetected. Isn't that much better than a turtle shell?"

Before the woman could explain, the girl from the other side angrily said, "You think you can touch our lost treasure? We are here to reclaim it rightfully, unlike some shameless people who act like bandits, thieves, or beggars!"

The boy turned and made a face, then sneered, "You said it yourself, it's a 'mountain' treasure. It's just a matter of seniority, so what?"

The boy suddenly changed his expression, stood up from the woman's lap, and looked down at the girl with pity, like a teacher scolding a naive child, "The path to immortality is about defying heaven. It's all about the word 'struggle.' If you don't understand this, how can you inherit the family business or follow the ancestral teachings? Your descendants of Zhengyang Mountain must raise the mountain at least a hundred feet every thirty years. Do you think it was easy for your grandfather and father?"

The girl lost her momentum, looking dejected, her head hanging low, not daring to look at the boy.

The tall old man with white hair said sternly, "Madam, though children speak without thinking, if my young master's Dao heart is tainted, you will bear the consequences."

The woman smiled charmingly, pulling her sullen son back into her lap, and said, "It's just children arguing. Why be so serious, Senior Ape? Don't ruin our thousand-year friendship."

The old man, with a fiery temper, retorted, "Our Zhengyang Mountain has existed for 2,600 years. We repay kindness, even after a thousand years, and we never let a grudge last overnight!"

The woman smiled, not wanting to argue.

This trip to the town was a heavy responsibility, especially for her, who had bet her life, her son's future, and her family's resources on this one gamble.

The woman, though dressed simply, had a regal demeanor, but the townspeople, lacking sophistication, couldn't see the subtleties.

From the beginning, Lu Zhengchun faced the covered bridge steps.

The first time he met these distinguished guests at the Lu family mansion, his younger brother, in a fit of youthful enthusiasm, momentarily forgot his grandfather's warning and glanced at the woman's chest, causing his grandfather to have him dragged out and beaten to death in the courtyard. The execution was so brutal that his mouth was stuffed with cotton, so Lu Zhengchun, who was still in the main hall with his grandfather, neither heard his brother's cries nor saw the gruesome scene. When the meeting was over and they went to find the Liu family boy, Lu Zhengchun stepped out of the hall and found the courtyard already cleaned of blood. The four guests, even the children, showed no reaction, as if it was a normal occurrence.

At that moment, Lu Zhengchun felt a sense of confusion.

How could a person's death be less significant than a dog's?

Especially since the person was also surnamed Lu. The night before, he and his brother had drunk together, excited about their future, dreaming of success and glory, and vowing to break free from their small-town life.

Even after leaving the Lu family mansion, Lu Zhengchun's mind was still blank.

After that, Lu Zhengchun began to feel fear. When the distinguished guests asked him questions, his voice trembled, and when he led the way, his steps were unsteady. He knew his behavior would be laughed at and disappoint his grandfather and disgrace his family, but he couldn't control his fear, as if coldness was seeping from his bones.

Last year, during the New Year, his grandfather took them to a secret room and told them that the Lu family would soon serve some distinguished guests, a great honor. They must be careful, and if they succeeded, the Lu family would use the reward to cultivate them. If the guests nodded, a bright future would await them, leading to unimaginable wealth and glory. That's when he understood why he and his brother had to learn so many strange dialects from a young age.

As Lu Zhengchun watched the approaching Liu Xianyang, he suddenly felt an intense hatred for this person. This poor guy, whom he and his friends had once cornered in an alley, lay on the ground like a dead dog. If not for a little brat shouting "dead man" at the alley's entrance, he and his friends would have already stripped and urinated on the ungrateful youth. Lu Zhengchun still didn't understand why these high-ranking guests looked favorably upon Liu Xianyang. As for the so-called treasure armor, sword manual, Zhengyang Mountain, and the path to immortality, Lu Zhengchun thought he understood but didn't really.

But one thing Lu Zhengchun was sure of was that he desperately wanted Liu Xianyang to die here.

As for the real reason, Lu Zhengchun didn't dare to admit it or think too deeply.

Deep down, Lu Zhengchun absolutely did not want the lowly Liu Xianyang to see him, the well-fed Lu family heir, reduced to the same level as a Liu.

It would be the ultimate humiliation.

The beautiful woman looked at the approaching Liu Xianyang and murmured, "He's here."

The tall young man came, punching as he went, his movements becoming faster and more fierce, his form almost staggering.

To the experts, the initial form of his boxing technique already showed a blend of hardness and softness, a sign of great mastery.

In martial arts, there is a saying: "Without understanding the true meaning of boxing, one remains an outsider for a hundred years. Once the true meaning is understood, one can defeat ghosts and gods in ten years."

The beautiful woman felt relieved. Indeed, this Liu family boy was the one they were looking for, with exceptional talent. Even in their immortal residences, his physical and spiritual qualities were noteworthy.

Of course, in the vast world of the beautiful woman and the tall white-haired old man, such people were the most numerous.

The beautiful woman stood up and instructed Lu Zhengchun, "Go tell that young man what he wants in exchange for the armor and the book."

Lu Zhengchun turned, already bowing, and replied in a dialect the townspeople couldn't understand, "Yes, Madam."

The woman said calmly, "Remember, when you speak to the young man, be gentle and measured."

The boy pointed down, sternly, "If you ruin this, I'll skin you alive, extract your tendons, and use your soul as a lamp wick, making you suffer until the light goes out!"

Lu Zhengchun shuddered, bowing deeper, and said fearfully, "I won't fail!"

The little girl finally felt a sense of victory and sneered, "You're so intimidating in front of these commoners, but on the way here, you were called a bastard by a fellow practitioner and didn't dare to retaliate."

The tall old man, who had a poor impression of the snobbish mother and son from the start, added, "Miss, you're wrong. It's not that he didn't dare to retaliate, but that he didn't dare to speak."

The boy in the bright red robe, gritting his teeth, stared at the girl with a sinister look but didn't say anything harsh. Instead, he smiled brightly.

The woman kept her gaze on the road ahead, her expression calm, and it was unknown if she harbored any resentment.

The little girl huffed and ran down the steps, squatting by the stream, looking at the fish in the water.

Occasionally, schools of carp swam past, varying in number, with both red and blue ones.

Some old people in the town, chatting under the old locust tree, often said that during thunderstorms, they had seen a golden carp swim under the covered bridge.

But some said the golden carp was only as long as a palm, while others said it was at least half a person's height, almost a spirit.

The old people argued, and the children listening to the stories didn't believe any of it.

Now, the little girl stared at the clear stream, her hands supporting her cheeks, lost in thought.

The white-haired old man squatted beside her and said softly, "Miss, if the Lu family didn't lie, this great opportunity has already fallen into someone else's hands."

The little girl turned, grinning, "Grandpa Ape, maybe there are two!"

She showed her missing front tooth in a comical way.

The little girl quickly realized this and covered her mouth.

The old man held back a laugh and explained, "Dragons that haven't reached the river are very territorial and don't allow others of their kind to approach. So..."

The little girl said, "What if there are?"

The old man, who had always been kind to the little girl, showed a stern expression for the first time, gently pressing her head and saying, "Miss, remember, the word 'what if' is our greatest enemy. You must never be complacent! Though you are a precious princess..."

The little girl pulled her hand away, waving it, "I know, I know, Grand