Sword Arrives

When Chen Ping'an returned to his courtyard, his eyelids began twitching—left eye twitching for fortune, and right for disaster.

So, he sat down on the doorstep and began to imagine himself shaping clay, his hands suspended in the air. Before long, the youngster in the straw sandals slipped into a state of deep focus. His diligence was one thing, but this routine also helped stave off hunger. As a result, Chen Ping'an had developed the habit of shaping clay whenever something weighed on his mind. Firing porcelain was deeply reliant on fate, for before the kiln was opened, no one could know whether the glaze or the shape of a piece would match their intentions. It was all left to destiny. But before the firing process, shaping the clay was undoubtedly the most critical step. Yet, due to his perceived lack of talent, Old Yao thought of Chen Ping'an mostly as someone suited for physical labor—tasks like kneading the clay. All Chen Ping'an could do was observe attentively, practicing by himself, shaping the clay, and finding the right touch.

The sound of a gate creaking open from the neighboring yard reached him. It was Song Jixin, returning from the school with his maid, Zhigui. The handsome young man sprinted forward and easily leaped over the low wall, crouching down afterward. He opened his hand to reveal a handful of small stones, no bigger than fingernails. They were of various colors, like sheep's fat, bean green, and white lotus root, among others. These inexpensive stones, scattered in varying sizes, were common sights along the creek beds in the town. Of all the stones, there was one in particular—bright red, as though soaked in chicken's blood—that was most sought after. Mr. Qi from the school had once carved a seal for his student, Zhao Yao, from one of these stones. Song Jixin found it particularly appealing and had tried to trade with Zhao Yao for it several times, but the latter had stubbornly refused to part with it.

Song Jixin tossed one of the stones lightly. It landed on Chen Ping'an's chest with little force, but the youngster remained unmoved.

Another stone flew through the air, hitting Chen Ping'an squarely on the forehead, yet he still did not react.

Song Jixin was unfazed by this. With a series of light flicks, he tossed seven or eight stones one after another. Though his aim was to distract Chen Ping'an with a little pain, he still refrained from directly hitting his arms or fingers, thinking that would be dishonorable.

After tossing the stones, Song Jixin clapped his hands together. Chen Ping'an let out a long sigh, shook his wrist, and completely ignored Song Jixin. After a moment's thought, he lowered his head, his left hand forming a fist as though holding a carving knife.

The "Jumping Knife" technique wasn't a unique skill among the old kiln masters in the town, but old Yao's version of it, whenever seen by anyone, always earned a thumbs up.

Old Yao had taken in a few apprentices, but none had truly satisfied him. It wasn't until Liu Xianyang came along that he felt he had found someone worthy of inheriting the craft. When Liu Xianyang practiced, if Chen Ping'an had no other tasks, he would squat nearby and watch closely.

Liu Xianyang was very proud, and he knew that Chen Ping'an was tight-lipped, so he often used old Yao's secret teachings to intimidate him, saying things like, "To make sure the knife's path is steady, your hand must not be rigidly steady. In the end, it's all about having a steady heart."

But when Chen Ping'an asked what a "steady heart" meant, Liu Xianyang was at a loss.

Song Jixin watched for a while, found it boring, and then jumped off the wall to enter the house.

Zhigui, the maid, stood by the wall. If she didn't tiptoe, only the upper half of her face would be visible. Even so, it was clear she had the makings of a beauty.

She thought for a moment, then lightly rose onto the balls of her feet. Her gaze swept around the poor young man, and eventually, she spotted two stones that caught her eye. One was a translucent crimson, the other pure white and glossy—both had been discarded by her young master just moments before.

After a brief hesitation, she lowered her voice and timidly said, "Chen Ping'an, could you help me pick up those two stones? I really like them."

Chen Ping'an slowly raised his head, but his hands didn't stop moving. His actions remained steady, and he gestured for her to wait a moment.

Zhigui smiled, like the first green sprout after spring, exceptionally beautiful.

But the youngster had already lowered his head, missing the captivating scene.

Her lips curled upward, and her eyes sparkled with an almost imperceptible gleam, as if tiny living creatures were gently swimming within them.

When Chen Ping'an finally paused and asked which two stones she meant, Zhigui's gaze returned to its usual softness, like fresh mud after the rain.

Following her direction, Chen Ping'an picked up the two stones and walked over to the wall. As soon as she raised her hand, the boy in straw sandals had already placed the stones on the wall.

She picked them up and held them tightly in her palm.

For those who truly sought such a thing, finding it would be like searching for a needle in the haystack—rare, perhaps even once in a decade.

A person destined for something, even if they don't actively seek it, seems to find it as easily as picking up discarded junk from the street—available at a whim, depending on whether they feel like taking it.

Chen Ping'an smiled and asked, "Aren't you worried that the snot-nosed brat will block your door and yell at you for half the day?"

She didn't admit that her young master had stolen someone else's things, but it seemed she didn't have the nerve to deny it either. Instead, she just smiled and remained silent.

In Mud Bottle Alley, there lived a mother and her son, and their ability to argue was unmatched in the town. Only Song Jixin could occasionally spar with them. The boy, especially mischievous, always had two streams of snot hanging from his nose. He loved to go down to the creek to catch fish, pick up stones, and keep the fish in a large water jar while stacking the stones beside it. Song Jixin, for some reason, enjoyed provoking this little troublemaker. Every few days, he would casually steal a few stones. It wasn't noticeable at first, but since Song Jixin often took them, once the boy noticed his precious stones were missing, he would fly into a rage. Like a kitten whose tail had been stepped on, he would yell for an entire hour in front of the gate. His mother never stopped him; in fact, she would fan the flames, purposely bringing up the fact that Song Jixin was the illegitimate son of the former supervisor. This always made Song Jixin so furious that his teeth would ache, almost ready to grab a stool and head out to fight. Only after much persuasion from the maid Zhigui would he be calmed down.

Suddenly, a sharp voice rang out, "Song Jixin, Song Jixin, come here and catch your maid in the act! Your maid is clearly having a flirtation with Chen Ping'an! If you don't stop her, tonight she might even climb over the wall and knock on Chen Ping'an's door! Hurry up and come out, tsk tsk, I saw Chen Ping'an's hand on that little girl's face, and you should have seen it! He was smiling like a sleazy, disgusting creep..."

Song Jixin didn't appear. Instead, he shouted from inside, "What's the big deal? Last night, I saw Chen Ping'an pulling on your mother's clothes, and when I caught them, Chen Ping'an had to yank his hand out of her collar with all his strength. Honestly, it's not really his fault. Your mother's... well, it's so magnificent and full, it's no wonder poor Chen Ping'an was sweating all over!"

In the alley, someone kicked the gate to Song Jixin's courtyard, shouting angrily, "Song Jixin, come out and fight me one-on-one! If you lose, you'll give Zhigui to me as a maid, and she'll feed me, make my bed, and wash my feet every day! If I lose, I'll make Chen Ping'an your servant, your errand boy. How about it? I dare you! If you don't, you're just a turtle hiding in its shell!"

Inside the house, Song Jixin lazily responded, "Go cool off somewhere! I've checked the almanac, and today's not a good day for beating kids. Gu Can, you're lucky today!"