Chapter 8

Chen Pingan returned to the courtyard, and his eyelids had been twitching ever since. A twitch on the left eye foretells wealth, while a twitch on the right eye foretells disaster.

Chen Pingan sat on the threshold and began to imagine himself shaping clay, his hands suspended in the air. Soon, the young boy wearing straw shoes entered a state of deep concentration. On one hand, the boy's diligence was commendable, but more importantly, this activity could stave off hunger. Thus, Chen Pingan developed the habit of shaping clay whenever he had something on his mind. In the art of porcelain firing, the will of heaven was paramount, as no one knew before the kiln was opened whether the glaze and shape of a piece would meet expectations. It was a matter of fate. However, before firing, shaping the clay was undoubtedly the most crucial step. Unfortunately, Old Yao considered Chen Pingan's talent lacking, so he mostly did the labor-intensive work of kneading clay. Chen Pingan could only observe carefully from the side, knead his own clay, and practice shaping it to find the right feel.

The sound of a wooden gate opening came from the neighboring courtyard. It turned out that Song Jixin had returned from the school with his maid, Zhigui. The handsome young boy made a dash, easily leaped over the short wall, and squatted down. He then opened his palm, revealing pebbles of various colors, like white jade, pea green, and white lotus. These inexpensive stones, of varying sizes, could be found everywhere on the riverbank. Among them, the most favored were the bright red stones that looked as if they were soaked in chicken blood. Mr. Qi from the school had carved a seal for his disciple, Zhao Yao, using one of these stones. Song Jixin found it quite appealing and had tried several times to trade for it, but the other boy refused.

Song Jixin threw a pebble, not with much force, and it hit Chen Pingan's chest, but the latter remained unmoved.

He threw another, this time hitting the straw-shoed boy's forehead, but Chen Pingan still did not budge.

Song Jixin was not surprised by this. He threw a handful of pebbles, about seven or eight, one after another. Although he intended to distract Chen Pingan and cause him some pain, he did not aim directly at his arms or fingers, as he felt that would be unfair.

After throwing the pebbles, Song Jixin clapped his hands. Chen Pingan exhaled deeply, shook his wrists, and ignored Song Jixin. After a moment's thought, he lowered his head, and his left hand formed a grip as if holding a carving knife.

The technique of "jump-knife" was not a unique skill among the old potters in the town, but Old Yao's method of using the jump-knife was so impressive that anyone who saw it would give a thumbs up.

Old Yao had taken on several apprentices, but none of them could truly satisfy him. It was only with Liu Xianyang that he found someone he believed could carry on his legacy. Whenever Liu Xianyang practiced, Chen Pingan would squat beside him and watch intently whenever he had free time.

Liu Xianyang was very concerned about his reputation and knew that Chen Pingan was tight-lipped. He often used Old Yao's secret techniques to intimidate Chen Pingan, such as saying, "To make the knife's path steady, your hand must not be rigidly steady; ultimately, it is the steadiness of your heart that matters."

However, when Chen Pingan asked what "steadiness of the heart" meant, Liu Xianyang was at a loss.

Song Jixin watched for a while but found it boring and jumped down from the wall to enter the house.

Maid Zhigui stood by the wall. If she did not stand on tiptoe, only the upper half of her face would be visible. Even so, it was clear that she was a beautiful young girl.

She thought for a moment, then lightly stood on tiptoe, her gaze falling on the poor boy. She finally found two pebbles she liked on the ground: one was a bright red and translucent, and the other was snow-white and lustrous, both of which her young master had just thrown away.

She hesitated for a moment, then lowered her voice and timidly said, "Chen Pingan, could you pick up those two pebbles for me? I really like them."

Chen Pingan slowly raised his head, but his hands did not stop moving, still steady. He gestured for her to wait a moment.

Zhigui smiled, like the first green bud of spring, incredibly beautiful.

But the boy had already lowered his head, missing this touching scene.

Her lips curled up, and her eyes sparkled, as if tiny creatures were swimming within them.

When Chen Pingan stopped his work and asked which pebbles she wanted, Zhigui's eyes returned to their usual softness, like the mud after a spring rain.

Chen Pingan picked up the two pebbles according to her direction, walked to the wall, and placed them on the wall when she raised her hand. She picked up the two pebbles and held them tightly in her hand.

For someone who deliberately sought such things, it would be like searching for a needle in the sea, a rare find that might take a decade. But for someone with a connection, even if they were not looking, these things could be as common as trash, easily obtained, depending on their mood.

Chen Pingan smiled and asked, "Aren't you afraid the snot-nosed brat will block your door and curse for a long time?"

She did not admit that her young master had taken something from others, but she also did not deny it, just smiling without a word.

In the Mud Bottle Alley lived a mother and son, both of whom were unmatched in their cursing skills in the town. Only Song Jixin could match them. The child was particularly mischievous, always with two snot-nosed streams, enjoying catching fish and picking pebbles from the riverbank. He kept the fish in a large water tank and piled the pebbles beside it. Song Jixin liked to provoke this little troublemaker, often taking a few pebbles whenever he visited. It was not noticeable at first, but over time, the child would realize his treasures were missing and explode in anger, like a wild cat with its tail stepped on. He could curse for an hour outside the courtyard gate, and his mother never tried to stop him, instead fanning the flames by deliberately mentioning that Song Jixin was the illegitimate son of a former official, which often made Song Jixin so angry that he almost grabbed a stool to fight, but was persuaded otherwise by Maid Zhigui.

Suddenly, a sharp voice rang out, "Song Jixin, Song Jixin, come quickly! Your maid is flirting with Chen Pingan! They're clearly trying to hook up! If you don't do something about your concubine, she might climb over the wall to knock on Chen Pingan's door tonight! Hurry up, tsk tsk tsk, Chen Pingan's hand is already touching that girl's face, and he's smiling in a disgusting way..."

Song Jixin did not show his face but shouted from inside the house, "What's the big deal? I saw Chen Pingan and your mother pulling at each other last night. When I caught them, Chen Pingan had to pull his hand out of your mother's collar with great effort. It's your mother's fault; she's just too impressive and full. Poor Chen Pingan was sweating all over..."

Someone in the alley kicked Song Jixin's courtyard gate hard and shouted angrily, "Song Jixin, come out for a one-on-one! If you lose, you give Zhigui to me as a maid, and she will feed me, make my bed, and wash my feet every day! If I lose, I'll give Chen Pingan to you as a servant. What do you say? Are you a coward if you don't dare?"

Song Jixin lazily replied from inside, "Go cool off! I checked the almanac, and today is not a good day to fight with a son. Gu Can, consider yourself lucky!"

The child outside pounded on the door, "Zhigui, following such a weak young master must be so frustrating. You should elope with Liu Xianyang; that big guy looks at you like he wants to eat you."

Maid Zhigui turned and walked into the house.

Inside, Song Jixin was carefully polishing a green gourd, an old object of unknown age, one of the "inheritances" left by the Song official. Initially, Song Jixin did not care much about it, but later, he discovered that during thunderstorms, the gourd would hum, but no matter how he shook it after removing the lid, nothing came out. When he poured water or sand into it, the same amount came out. Song Jixin was at a loss and, once annoyed by the sharp-tongued mother of Gu Can, who called him an illegitimate son, he tried to cut the gourd with a knife, but the blade bent, and the gourd remained unscathed, leaving no trace.

An old letter burned by Song Jixin years ago read, "The gold, silver, and copper coins moved to the small courtyard will ensure that you and your maid live without worry. In your free time, you can collect antiques that please the eye, to cultivate your temperament. The town may be small, but coarse grains can nourish the stomach, books can nourish the spirit, and the scenery can nourish the eyes. Solitude can nourish the heart. From today, do your best and leave the rest to fate. A dragon in the depths will surely bring good fortune in the future."

Although Song Jixin resented that man, he believed that money not spent would bring bad luck. In the simple town, it was hard to spend lavishly, and over the years, Song Jixin had developed a fondness for collecting junk, filling a large red-lacquered chest with odd items like the green gourd. However, Song Jixin had a mysterious intuition that among the thirty or so items in the chest, the gourd was the most valuable, followed by a rusty purple-gold bell that made no sound despite the clapper visibly hitting the inner wall, which both terrified and fascinated him. Lastly, there was an ancient, simple teapot signed "Shanxiao," which he liked but did not love at first sight.

Outside, the child Gu Can stood at the door, cursing loudly and confidently.

Not long after, the cursing stopped abruptly.

Then Chen Pingan saw the child suddenly push open his courtyard gate, looking panicked, lock the gate, and squat by the door, gesturing for Chen Pingan to join him.

Chen Pingan, not understanding, crouched beside the child and whispered, "Gu Can, what are you doing? Did you anger your mother again?"

The child sniffed and lowered his voice, "Chen Pingan, I tell you, I just met a strange man. He had a white bowl that could keep pouring water. I saw it with my own eyes, and he poured water for an hour! When he passed by the entrance of Mud Bottle Alley, he seemed to stop. Did he see me? Oh no, oh no..."

The child gestured the size of the white bowl and then patted his chest, exclaiming, "That really scared the living daylights out of Song Jixin's father."

Chen Pingan asked, "You mean the storyteller under the locust tree?"

The child nodded vigorously, "That's right. The old man doesn't have much strength, not even enough to lift me, but that broken bowl is really scary, really scary!"

The child suddenly grabbed Chen Pingan's arm, "Chen Pingan, I'm not lying this time! I swear, if I'm lying, may Song Jixin die a terrible death!"

Chen Pingan raised a finger to his lips, signaling silence.

The child immediately shut up.

Footsteps could be heard approaching and then fading away.

One thing can counteract another.

The child, who was usually fearless, sat on the ground, wiping his face, his face pale, clearly terrified.

The child suddenly asked, "Chen Pingan, did that guy go to my house? What should we do?"

Chen Pingan sighed, "I'll go with you to check?"

The child, who had been waiting for Chen Pingan to say this, suddenly stood up but then sat back down, looking miserable, "Chen Pingan, my legs are too weak to walk."

Chen Pingan stood up, bent down, and grabbed the back of the child's collar, lifting him up with one hand and unlocking the gate with the other, then walked out of the courtyard.

The child's house was not far, just a hundred steps away. Sure enough, Gu Can saw the old man in his courtyard, and his mother had even given the old man a stool.

At that moment, the child felt as if the sky had fallen, so he hid behind Chen Pingan, letting the taller boy take the lead.

Chen Pingan did not disappoint, standing protectively in front of the child.

When the mischievous child Gu Can held onto Chen Pingan's sleeve, he suddenly felt a surge of courage.

The old man paid no attention, sitting on the stool and thinking for a moment. The white bowl in his hand disappeared into thin air.

Gu Can immediately felt weak again, hiding behind Chen Pingan, trembling.

The old man looked at the unusually calm rural woman and then at the frowning straw-shoed boy, finally addressing the timid child, "Little one, do you know what's in your water tank?"

The child shouted from behind Chen Pingan, "What else? Fish, shrimp, crabs I caught from the river, and eels and loaches I fished from the fields! If you like them, take them, don't be shy..."

The child's voice grew weaker, clearly lacking confidence.

The woman smoothed her hair, looked at Chen Pingan, and said softly, "Pingan."

Chen Pingan understood her meaning, ruffled Gu Can's head, and then turned to leave.

In her eyes, there was a hint of guilt toward the straw-shoed boy.

She cleared her mind and turned to the old man, "Esteemed immortal, do you want to buy or take this opportunity?"

The old man shook his head and smiled, "Buy? I can't afford it. Take? I can't take it."

The woman also shook her head, "It was so before, but it may not be so in the future."

The old man, who had been relaxed, was struck as if by lightning, suddenly waving his sleeve and moving his fingers rapidly.

The old man sighed, "Why must it come to this?"

The woman's face turned cold, mocking, "Do you think there are many good people in this town?"

The old man stood up, looked deeply at the bewildered child, and seemed to make a significant decision. He flicked his wrist, and the white bowl reappeared.

The old man walked to the large water tank, quickly scooped a bowl of water with the tank's ladle.

The woman, though pretending to be calm, had sweaty palms.

The old man sat back on the stool and beckoned to Gu Can, "Little one, come and take a look."

The child looked at his mother, who nodded encouragingly.

As the child approached, the old man gently blew on the water in the bowl, creating ripples.

The old man smiled, "Open your mouth."

At the same time, the old man casually touched the child, pulling out a locust leaf from somewhere on his body.

He pinched the leaf between his fingers without actually holding it.

The child instinctively gasped.

The old man flicked his finger, and the green, vibrant locust leaf entered the child's mouth.

The child stood there, then realized there was no strange sensation in his mouth.

The old man did not give him a chance to ask, pointing to the white bowl in his palm, "Look carefully at what's inside."

The child widened his eyes, focusing intently. He first saw a tiny black dot, which gradually turned into a slightly more noticeable black line, and finally slowly grew into a small, earth-colored loach, happily wriggling in the ripples of the white bowl.

The child, whose mind was a mess, suddenly had a flash of insight and exclaimed, "I remember it! I got it from Chen Pingan..."

The woman slapped her son's face, angry, "Shut up!"

The old man was not surprised, calmly saying, "We cultivators, in pursuit of immortality, often act against the norms. A little competition is nothing. No need to be so tense. What is meant to be your son's will not escape him, and what is not meant to be the young man's cannot be kept."

The child, who weighed less than forty pounds, had a "bone structure" that was incredibly heavy.

So when the old man, who possessed supernatural abilities, used his ancestral secret technique to weigh the child's bones, he could not lift him.

This was the prerequisite for taking him as a disciple.

Otherwise, a three-year-old child carrying gold through the market would be courting disaster.

The old man smiled, his eyes cold, slowly saying, "Of course, even if it was originally the young man's, so what? Now that I am here, it is no longer his."

The child was silent, his teeth chattering.

The woman felt relieved.

The old man resumed his kind and gentle demeanor, "Child, this bowl contains the entire river, and now it has a small dragon. From now on, you are my direct disciple."

"I am a 'True Lord,' just a step away from being a 'Founder.' Though I am from a lesser sect... in the future, you will understand the weight of the titles 'True Lord' and 'Founder.'"

The old man laughed, "It will be heavier than this bowl of river water."

The child suddenly cried, "That's not right! It belongs to Chen Pingan!"

The woman, angry and embarrassed, raised her arm to scold her foolish son.

The old man waved his hand, smiled, and said lightly, "Having such feelings is not entirely bad."

The child lowered his head, wiping his tears and snot with the back of his hand.

The woman glanced at the old man.

The old man smiled understandingly and nodded.

Among fellow practitioners, everything was understood without words.

When the child looked up, his mother and his unexpected new master were both smiling faintly.

The child turned around, and Chen Pingan, as he left, did not forget to close the courtyard gate.

——

The town was like a field of crops, a year of great harvest.

But some people were like weeds mixed in with the rice, noticed once and never again.

For example, the lonely straw-shoed boy walking alone in Mud Bottle Alley.