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 sun, eyes closed, humming a tune, and patting his knees.
Chen Ping'an squatted beside him, finding it difficult to bring up the matter of collecting the debt. Instead, he quietly looked at the wide road stretching eastward, winding like a thick, yellow serpent. He habitually picked up a handful of dirt, rubbing it slowly in his hand.
He had followed Old Yao through the mountains around the town, carrying a heavy bag filled with various tools like an axe and a hoe. Under the old man's guidance, they would stop and go at various places. Chen Ping'an often had to "eat dirt," grabbing a handful and putting it in his mouth to chew, tasting it carefully. Over time, he became skilled at identifying the soil's quality just by feeling it with his fingers. Later, when he encountered shards of old kiln ceramics, he could often tell which kiln they came from and even which master had made them.
Despite Old Yao's reclusive and irritable nature, often beating and scolding Chen Ping'an, the boy never resented him. Once, Old Yao, frustrated by Chen Ping'an's perceived lack of talent, abandoned him in the wilderness and returned alone to the kiln. Chen Ping'an walked sixty miles through the mountains, arriving at the kiln late at night during a torrential downpour. For the first time since living on his own, he felt the urge to cry when he saw the distant light.
Yet, he never blamed the old man, understanding the unspoken rule that apart from parents, no one was obligated to treat you well. His parents had passed away early, leaving him to fend for himself.
Chen Ping'an patiently zoned out until the unkempt man, realizing he couldn't avoid the issue, opened his eyes and smiled, "It's just five coins. Being this stingy, you'll never amount to much."
Chen Ping'an sighed, "Aren't you the one being stingy?"
The man grinned, showing his crooked yellow teeth, and laughed, "So if you don't want to end up like me, stop worrying about the five coins."
Chen Ping'an sighed again, looking serious, "If you're short on money, let's forget about the five coins. But from now on, one letter, one coin, no more dodging payments."
The man, exuding a sour smell, turned and smiled, "Kid, with your stubborn nature, you'll suffer losses in the future. Haven't you heard the saying, 'Suffering losses is a blessing'? If you can't even take small losses..."
He glanced at the dirt in the boy's hand and added, "You'll end up working the fields."
Chen Ping'an retorted, "Didn't I just say to forget about the five coins? Isn't that taking a small loss?"
The man, somewhat flustered, waved him off, "Get lost, talking to you is exhausting."
Chen Ping'an let the dirt fall from his fingers, stood up, and said, "The tree stump is damp..."
The man looked up and cursed good-naturedly, "I don't need your advice. Young folks have strong yang energy, they can sit on a stove!"
As Chen Ping'an walked away, the man muttered under his breath, likely cursing the heavens.
---
Mr. Qi, the school teacher, unusually ended his lessons early today. Behind the school was a small courtyard with a low firewood door leading to the bamboo grove.
Song Jixin and his maid, listening to stories under the old locust tree, were called to play chess. Reluctant, Song Jixin agreed only because it was Mr. Qi's wish to see if their chess skills had improved. Despite his mixed feelings of respect and fear for Mr. Qi, Song Jixin agreed to go but only after the storyteller finished his tale. The green-robed boy who delivered the message nagged him not to be late, repeating that Mr. Qi valued punctuality and honesty.
When Song Jixin and Zhi Gui arrived at the back courtyard, they found the green-robed boy already seated on the southern bench, upright and proper. Song Jixin plopped down on the bench opposite him, facing south. Mr. Qi, as usual, sat to the west, observing silently.
Zhi Gui, not wanting to disturb the "scholars," wandered into the bamboo grove, as she always did during chess games.
In this secluded town, true scholars were rare. According to Mr. Qi's established rules, Song Jixin and the green-robed boy guessed stones to decide who played black and went first. Song Jixin, being the more talented player, had never lost a game, regardless of playing black or white. However, his interest in chess waned over time, while the green-robed boy, a student and assistant to Mr. Qi, improved significantly through constant practice and observation.
Just as Song Jixin was about to grab the stones, Mr. Qi suddenly said, "Today, you'll play a seated game with white going first."
Both boys were puzzled, not knowing what a seated game was. Mr. Qi explained the simple rules, placing black and white stones on the four star points.
Mr. Qi's deft placement of the stones was a sight to behold. The green-robed boy, usually a stickler for rules, was stunned, muttering, "This changes the whole game."
Song Jixin quickly grasped the idea, his face lighting up, "The board is smaller!"
He looked to Mr. Qi for confirmation, who nodded, "Indeed."
Song Jixin then teased his opponent, "Want me to give you a head start? Otherwise, you'll surely lose."
The green-robed boy, embarrassed, knew that his recent victories were partly due to Song Jixin's declining interest and occasional intentional blunders.
Mr. Qi said to his student, "You may go first with white."
The green-robed boy played cautiously, while Song Jixin played boldly, each move swift and decisive.
Their contrasting styles were evident.
After about eighty moves, the green-robed boy was thoroughly defeated. He bowed his head in silence, lips pressed tightly together.
Song Jixin propped his elbow on the table, tapping his cheek with his fingers, staring at the board.
Following Mr. Qi's rule, the losing player silently conceded by placing a stone.
Mr. Qi then instructed his student, "Go practice your calligraphy, write three hundred 'eternal' characters."
The green-robed boy quickly got up, bowed respectfully, and left.
After the boy was gone, Song Jixin asked softly, "Sir, are you leaving soon?"
Mr. Qi, his temples frosted with age, nodded, "Within ten days."
Song Jixin smiled, "I can still see you off then."
Mr. Qi hesitated but finally said, "No need to see me off. Remember, when you leave this town, don't be too ostentatious. I leave you three foundational books, 'The Elementary Learning,' 'The Rites and Music,' and 'The Essentials.' Read them often, for understanding comes with repeated reading. Three other books, 'The Subtle,' a mathematical treatise, 'Peach and Plum,' a chess manual, and 'Sea and Mountain Strategies,' a collection of essays, you can read in your leisure time."
Surprised, Song Jixin awkwardly joked, "It feels like you're entrusting me with a legacy, sir."
Mr. Qi smiled warmly, "It's not that dramatic. We'll meet again someday."
Mr. Qi's smile was like a warm breeze.
He then said, "Go say goodbye to Zhao You."
Song Jixin agreed cheerfully, "Sure. I'll leave the board to you, sir."
He ran off happily.
Mr. Qi began to clean up the board, picking up stones in reverse order, from the last black stone placed by Song Jixin, with perfect accuracy.
Unnoticed, Zhi Gui had returned from the bamboo grove, standing just outside the firewood door.
Without turning, Mr. Qi said sternly, "Be careful."
The girl, raised in Niping Alley, looked confused and timid.
Mr. Qi's face showed a hint of anger as he slowly turned to look at her, his gaze cold.
The girl's expression turned from innocent to cold and mocking.
She seemed to say, "What can you do to me?"
They stared at each other like two serpents ready to strike, mutual enmity in their eyes.
In the distance, Song Jixin called out, "Zhi Gui, let's go home!"
The girl immediately replied sweetly, "Coming, young master."
She ran past Mr. Qi, pausing to bow and say, "Goodbye, sir."
Long after she left, Mr. Qi sighed.
The spring breeze rustled the bamboo leaves, sounding like pages turning.
---
The young Taoist priest with the lotus crown was packing up his stall, sighing repeatedly. Familiar townsfolk asked why, but he only shook his head.
A newlywed woman who had once sought his help hesitated, then approached shyly, asking questions while her eyes lingered on his handsome face.
The priest glanced at her, noting her well-endowed figure, and swallowed hard before saying cryptically, "Today, I drew a bad lot for myself—great misfortune."