Chapter 8: Weeds

After returning to his courtyard, Chen Ping'an felt a twitch in his eyelids. Left eye for wealth, right eye for misfortune.

So, he sat on the doorstep and began to imagine himself at the potter's wheel. His hands floated in the air, and the grass sandal-wearing boy quickly entered a state of trance. Diligence was one aspect, but resisting hunger was also crucial, which is why Chen Ping'an had developed the habit of "throwing pots" whenever he was preoccupied. Pottery was all about fate because, before opening the kiln, no one could know if a piece's glaze and form would align with their expectations. One could only leave it to the heavens. However, before firing, shaping the clay was undoubtedly paramount. But Old Yao considered Chen Ping'an lacking in talent and mostly had him do the physical labor of kneading clay. Chen Ping'an could only carefully observe from the side, then practice kneading and shaping himself, seeking the right feel.

The sound of a wooden gate opening came from the neighboring courtyard. It was Song Jixin, returning from the academy with his maid, Zhigui. The handsome young man sprinted, easily leaping over the low wall. He crouched down and opened his palm, revealing pebbles the size of fingernails, in various colors like mutton-fat jade, celadon, and lotus root white. These worthless stones, of varying sizes, were commonly found in the town's streams. Among them, those that appeared stained with chicken blood, a vibrant red, were the most desirable. Master Qi of the academy had carved a seal for his disciple Zhao Yao from such a stone, and Song Jixin found it pleasing to the eye. He had tried several times to trade something for it, but the other boy stubbornly refused.

Song Jixin tossed a pebble, not too hard, hitting Chen Ping'an in the chest. The latter didn't react.

He threw another, this time hitting the grass sandal-wearing boy on the forehead. Chen Ping'an remained unmoved.

Song Jixin wasn't surprised. He unleashed a barrage of seven or eight pebbles, one after another. Although he intended to distract Chen Ping'an and make him flinch, he avoided directly hitting the boy's arms or fingers. Song Jixin felt that would be an unfair victory.

Having finished throwing stones, Song Jixin clapped his hands. Chen Ping'an exhaled deeply, shook his wrists, and completely ignored Song Jixin. After a moment's thought, he lowered his head, his left hand forming the shape of a carving knife.

The "skipping knife" technique wasn't unique to anyone among the old kiln workers in town, but Old Yao's skill with it was such that everyone who saw it would give a thumbs-up.

Old Yao had taken several apprentices, but none had truly satisfied him. It wasn't until Liu Xianyang that he felt he had found someone who could inherit his mantle. Whenever Liu Xianyang practiced, Chen Ping'an would squat nearby, watching intently, whenever he had the free time.

Liu Xianyang, concerned with his own reputation and knowing Chen Ping'an kept his mouth shut, often tried to impress the latter with Old Yao's secret mantras, such as, "If you want the knife's path to be steady, your hand can't be rigidly stable. Ultimately, it's about a stable heart."

But when Chen Ping'an asked what a stable heart meant, Liu Xianyang would be at a loss for words.

After watching for a while, Song Jixin found it boring and jumped down from the wall, entering the house.

The maid, Zhigui, stood by the wall. If she didn't stand on tiptoe, only the upper half of her face would be visible. Even so, it was already evident that the girl was a budding beauty.

She thought for a moment, then gently rose on the balls of her feet, her gaze falling upon the impoverished boy. Finally, she found two pebbles on the ground that she liked. One was a translucent, scarlet hue, and the other was snowy white and lustrous. Both had been discarded by her young master.

She hesitated, then lowered her voice, timidly saying, "Chen Ping'an, could you please pick up those two pebbles for me? I really like them."

Chen Ping'an slowly looked up, his hand movements not stopping, still steady. His eyes gestured for her to wait a moment.

Zhigui smiled radiantly, like the first green bud on a branch after winter. It was exceptionally beautiful.

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

Her lips curved upward, her eyes shimmering with light, as if tiny, living creatures were swimming lazily within them.

By the time Chen Ping'an stopped what he was doing and asked which two pebbles she meant, the maid Zhigui's gaze had returned to normal, as soft as spring mud after rain.

Chen Ping'an picked up the two pebbles, following the direction of her finger. He walked to the wall, and as she raised her hand, the grass sandal-wearing boy had already placed the stones on the wall.

She picked up the two pebbles and held them tightly in her hand.

For someone intentionally seeking such items, it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack, unlikely to be found even after ten years.

For someone with good fortune, even without intention, they were like worthless junk, easily obtained, depending entirely on whether they felt like picking them up.

Chen Ping'an smiled and asked, "Aren't you afraid the snot-nosed brat will block your door and curse for half a day?"

She didn't admit that her young master had stolen other people's things, but she also seemed too embarrassed to deny the fact, so she just smiled and said nothing.

A mother and son lived in Mud Bottle Lane, and their cursing skills were unmatched in the town. Only Song Jixin could hold his own against them. The boy, in particular, was naughty, always with two snotty streams hanging from his nose. He liked to fish and pick up stones in the stream, keeping the fish he caught in a large water vat, and the stones piled up next to it. Song Jixin, however, enjoyed provoking this little troublemaker, occasionally pilfering a few pebbles. One or two days wouldn't be noticeable, but Song Jixin frequently took them. Once the boy realized his treasures were missing, he would explode like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, cursing outside the courtyard gate for an hour. His mother would never try to dissuade him but would instead gleefully add fuel to the fire, deliberately bringing up the fact that Song Jixin was the illegitimate son of the former Superintendent, which had angered Song Jixin to the point of almost grabbing a bench and going out to fight. The maid Zhigui had to persuade him at length to stop him.

Suddenly, a shrill voice rang out, "Song Jixin, Song Jixin, come and catch them in the act! Your maid and Chen Ping'an are clearly flirting! If you don't manage your concubine, she might climb over the wall and knock on Chen Ping'an's door tonight! Get out here, tsk, tsk, tsk, Chen Ping'an's hand even touched that little vixen's face! You didn't see it, Chen Ping'an was smiling so disgustingly..."

Song Jixin didn't show his face, shouting from inside the house, "What's so strange about that? Last night I saw Chen Ping'an groping your mother! When I caught him, Chen Ping'an forcibly 'pulled' his claws out of your mother's collar! It's also your mother's fault, she's just too magnificent and full there! Poor Chen Ping'an was sweating profusely..."Someone was kicking Song Jixin's courtyard door in the alley, shouting furiously, "Song Jixin, come out and fight me! If you lose, you give Zhigui to me as a maid, to feed me, make my bed, and wash my feet every day! If I lose, I'll give you Chen Ping'an as a servant, a general handyman. What do you say? I'm just asking if you dare, whoever doesn't is a coward!"

Inside the house, Song Jixin drawled, "Go cool off somewhere else! Your dad checked the almanac, today isn't suitable for beating sons. Gu Can, consider yourself lucky!"

The child outside pounded the door, "Zhigui, following such a useless young master, how frustrating is that? You might as well elope with Liu Xianyang. Anyway, that big, stupid oaf looks at you like he wants to eat you."

The maid Zhigui turned and walked towards the house.

Inside, Song Jixin was carefully wiping a jade-green gourd, an old object of unknown age, and one of the "family properties" left by that Song official. Song Jixin didn't care about it at first, but later accidentally discovered that the gourd buzzed whenever it rained. But after Song Jixin removed the lid, no matter how he waved and shook it, nothing would fall out. He poured water and sand into it, and the same amount of water and sand would come out, no more, no less. Song Jixin was really at his wit's end. Plus, one time he was scolded by Gu Can's shrewish mother, called a bastard son with a mother but no father, which upset him. Song Jixin took a knife and chopped at the gourd, and the young man was dumbfounded. The blade had rolled over, but the gourd was still intact, without leaving the slightest trace.

An earlier letter that Song Jixin had burned said, "The gold, silver, and copper coins in the official residence moved to the small courtyard will ensure that you and your servant have no worries about food and clothing. In your spare time, you can collect some antiques that please you, as a way to cultivate your temperament. Although the town is small, coarse grains can nourish the stomach, books can nourish the spirit, scenery can nourish the eyes, and solitude can nourish the heart. From today onwards, do your best and leave the rest to fate. A hidden dragon in the abyss will surely have blessings in the future."

Although Song Jixin resented that man, he figured that having money and not spending it would bring down divine wrath. In the simple folk customs of the small town, it was difficult to spend lavishly. Over the years, Song Jixin had really come to like the business of collecting junk, filling a large vermilion lacquer box with all kinds of unusual things like the jade-green gourd. However, Song Jixin had a mysterious intuition that, out of the large box, with its miscellaneous thirty-odd items, this gourd was the most valuable. Then there was a rusty, violet-gold bell. When shaken, you could clearly see the clapper hitting the inner wall, which should have produced a crisp sound, but it was silent, making Song Jixin feel both frightened and amazed. Finally, there was an antique teapot with the inscription "Mountain Demon." As for the other items, Song Jixin liked them superficially, not enough to call it love at first sight.

The child named Gu Can stood outside the door, shouting insults with all his might.

Before long, the shouting stopped abruptly.

Then Chen Ping'an saw that guy suddenly push open his courtyard door, looking terrified. After bolting the door, he squatted beside it, constantly winking at him, wanting him to squat down beside him too.

Chen Ping'an didn't understand why, but he stooped down and ran to the child's side, and asked softly, "Gu Can, what are you doing? Did you make your mother angry again?"

The child sniffed hard, lowered his voice, and said, "Chen Ping'an, I'm telling you, I just ran into a weirdo. The white bowl in his hand can pour out water continuously. Look, it's just such a small bowl, but I saw with my own eyes that he poured water for an hour! That guy seemed to stop when he passed by the entrance of our Mud Bottle Alley just now. Could he have seen me? This is terrible..."

The child gestured to show the size of the white bowl, and then patted his chest, exclaiming, "That really scared Song Jixin's dad half to death."

Chen Ping'an asked, "Are you talking about the storyteller under the locust tree?"

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

The child suddenly grabbed Chen Ping'an's arm, "Chen Ping'an, I'm really not lying to you this time! I can swear, if I'm lying to you, may Song Jixin have a terrible death!"

Chen Ping'an raised a finger, making a shushing gesture.

The child immediately shut his mouth.

There was a sound of footsteps outside the door, gradually rising and falling.

One thing subdues another.

The child, who was originally fearless, sat down on the ground with a thud, wiping his face haphazardly, his face pale. Clearly, this snotty kid named Gu Can was really scared half to death.

The child suddenly asked, "Chen Ping'an, that guy wouldn't have gone to my house, would he? What should I do?"

Chen Ping'an said helplessly, "Should I go back to your house with you to take a look?"

The child was probably waiting for Chen Ping'an to say that. He suddenly stood up, then slumped down again, crying, "Chen Ping'an, my legs are too weak to walk."

Chen Ping'an stood up, bent down and grabbed the child's collar, lifted the child with one hand, opened the door bolt, and walked out of the courtyard.

The child's house wasn't far from here, only about a hundred steps away. Sure enough, Gu Can saw that the old man was in his yard, and his mother had even brought a stool for the old man.

At that moment, the child felt like the sky had fallen, so he chose to hide behind Chen Ping'an, letting the taller one take the lead.

Chen Ping'an didn't let the child down, intentionally or unintentionally protecting him.

When the brat Gu Can grabbed Chen Ping'an's sleeve, he was immediately filled with pride for no reason.

The old man didn't mind, sat on the stool, pondered for a moment, and the white bowl in his hand disappeared out of thin air.

Gu Can immediately felt his legs weaken again, hiding behind Chen Ping'an, trembling.

The old man looked at the village woman, whose expression was surprisingly calm, and then looked at the straw-sandaled boy, who was frowning. Finally, he said to the timid child, "Little one, do you know what's being raised in your family's water tank?"

The child shouted from behind Chen Ping'an, "What else could it be? The fish, shrimp, and crabs that I caught from the stream, and the loach and eel that I caught from the rice paddies! If you like them, just take them, don't be polite..."

The child's voice became lower and lower, obviously lacking confidence.

The woman brushed her hair around her temples and looked at Chen Ping'an, softly saying, "Ping'an."

Chen Ping'an understood what she meant, rubbed Gu Can's head, and then turned and left.

In the depths of the woman's eyes, there was a hint of guilt hidden towards this straw-sandaled boy.

She put aside her distractions, turned to the old man, and asked, "This immortal master who has come from afar, for this opportunity, will you buy it, or will you take it by force?"The old man shook his head, chuckling, "Buy it? I can't afford it. Snatch it? I wouldn't dare."

The woman also shook her head, "That may have been true before, but not necessarily in the future."

The previously relaxed old man was struck as if by lightning upon hearing this. He abruptly waved his sleeve, his five fingers flying in rapid calculation.

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

The woman's face was cold, she sneered, "Does Immortal Master truly believe there are many good people in this town?"

The old man stood up, gazing deeply at the bewildered child, as if making a momentous decision. With a flick of his wrist, the white bowl reappeared.

The old man walked to the half-person-high water vat and quickly scooped a bowlful of water.

Though the woman feigned composure, her palms were slick with sweat.

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

The child looked at his mother. She nodded, her eyes full of encouragement.

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

The old man smiled, "Open your mouth."

At the same time, the old man casually reached out and, from an unknown place on the child's body, retrieved a locust leaf.

He held it between two fingers, not quite grasping it.

The child instinctively gasped "Ah."

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

The child froze, then realized that there seemed to be nothing amiss in his mouth.

The old man didn't give him a chance to ask, pointing to the white bowl held in his palm, "Look carefully and see what's there."

Gu Can widened his eyes, focusing intently. First, he saw an extremely tiny black dot, which gradually transformed into a slightly more noticeable black line. Finally, it slowly grew larger, seemingly turning into a small, earthy-yellow loach, frolicking in the ripples on the water's surface of the white bowl.

The child's muddled mind suddenly cleared, and he exclaimed in surprise, "I remember it! It's from Chen Ping'an's side..."

The woman slapped her son across the face, scolding angrily, "Shut up!"

The old man was not surprised by this, and said calmly: "We cultivators, in order to prove longevity, often commit acts against morality. This little contest is nothing. There's no need to be so nervous, what is destined to be your son's cannot escape him, and what is not the young man's cannot be kept."

This child named Gu Can weighed less than forty pounds.

However, the weight of his "intrinsic talent" was unbelievable.

Therefore, when this bowl-holding old man with supernatural powers previously made an exception and performed the ancestral secret technique to assess his bones and weigh his destiny, he naturally couldn't lift Gu Can.

This was his prerequisite for accepting a disciple.

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

The old man laughed freely, but his eyes were icy as he slowly said, "Of course, even if it was originally the young man's, so what? Now that I, the old man, am personally here, it will no longer be his."

The child was silent as a cicada in winter, his teeth chattering.

The woman breathed a sigh of relief.

The old man put on his kind and amiable face again, "Child, this bowl contains the entire river, and now it is also raising a small flood dragon. From now on, you are my direct disciple."

"I am a 'True Lord', only half a step away from being a 'Sect Founding' ancestor, although it is a lower sect... In short, you will naturally understand the weight of the words 'True Lord' and 'Sect Founding' in the future."

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

The child suddenly cried, "This isn't right! It belongs to Chen Ping'an!"

The woman was furious with embarrassment, raising her arm high, about to teach this muddle-headed son a lesson again.

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

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

The woman quietly glanced at the old man.

The old man smiled knowingly and nodded.

Fellow travelers on the same path, everything was understood without words.

After the child raised his head, his mother and the halfway master who had inexplicably fallen from the sky were already smiling faintly.

The child turned his head. Chen Ping'an did not forget to close the courtyard gate when he left.

The small town was like a field of crops, having a bumper harvest in a great year.

However, some people were just a blade of weeds mixed in with the rice, glanced at once and never looked at again.

Such as the grass shoe teenager walking alone in Mud Bottle Lane.