Chapter 47: Walking Alone

Chapter 47: Walking Alone

Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao parted ways at the Twelve-Foot Archway Tower. Chen Ping'an went to Mud Vase Alley and knocked on the door, calling out, "Song Jixin, are you home?"

The young girl, who had been using a gourd ladle to scoop a ladle of water in the kitchen, started hiccupping repeatedly. After drinking the water, she felt much more refreshed. She put down the ladle and sauntered out of the kitchen, then ran to open the courtyard gate. Feeling a bit puzzled, she still replied in a measured manner, "My master isn't home. Chen Ping'an, why are you knocking? Didn't you used to stand in your own courtyard and chat with us?"

Chen Ping'an, separated by the courtyard wall, said, "There's something I need to talk about."

Zhigui opened the door and teased, "A rare guest, a rare guest."

She glanced at Chen Ping'an's expression and asked, "What do you need my master for? If it's not urgent, I can pass along a message later. If it is urgent, you'll probably have to go find him at the Supervisor's Office. You saw it yourself before—my master gets along well with the new Supervisor, Sir Song."

She noticed Chen Ping'an standing rooted to the spot, unmoving, and rolled her eyes. "Why don't you come in? What are you standing there for?! Is my home a dragon's pool or a tiger's den? Or are you afraid you'll have to pay a silver tael just for a drink of water?"

At that, she covered her mouth and giggled softly. "For you, it's probably the latter that's scarier."

Chen Ping'an tugged at the corner of his mouth, forcing a strained smile, and said quietly, "Actually, I came to find you. I called out that way earlier to avoid making Song Jixin misunderstand."

Zhigui smiled knowingly and asked, "Alright, what's the matter? Let me say this first: neighbors are neighbors, and friendship is friendship, but in the end, I'm just a maidservant lodging in Mud Vase Alley. I can't carry heavy loads or do heavy lifting, so I can't help with big things. But if you, Chen Ping'an, need to borrow money—if it's a problem money can solve—you're in luck. I do have a little method."

Chen Ping'an smiled bitterly. "It's not really about money. I'll be straight with you: Liu Xianyang was badly beaten by someone at the Covered Bridge. The old shopkeeper at the Yang Family Shop went to see him but couldn't do anything."

Zhigui looked bewildered. "How come I haven't heard about this? Who did Liu Xianyang offend?"

Chen Ping'an said helplessly, "It was an outsider, from a place called Zhengyang Mountain."

Zhigui probed, "So you want to pull some strings to find a good burial plot for Liu Xianyang? That's not hard. I can ask my master to put in a word with the Supervisor, and then have someone from the office or the gatekeeper contact that old man Wei in Peach Leaf Alley to find a spot. As long as you're not trying to claim a mountain in a forbidden area, it shouldn't be difficult."

Chen Ping'an's already dark face grew even darker.

Zhigui seemed to realize she had misunderstood, and instinctively bared her shiny white teeth in a grin. Leaning against the Spring Festival couplets on the wall, she tilted her head and smiled playfully. "Chen Ping'an, are you trying to claim repayment for saving my life? But I'm just a maidservant. If the old shopkeeper at the Yang Family Shop can't do anything, what can I do?"

After an inner struggle, Chen Ping'an slowly said, "Wang Zhu, I know you're not an ordinary person. That snowy day at my doorstep, I knew you were different from us. Later, you were the first one to notice there was something unusual about the snake gallstone. Now that I think back, the way you looked at us neighbors back then—it's essentially no different from how those outsiders look at us now."

The young girl grinned. "Actually, there is a difference."

It's not just you ordinary mortals—I look down on those immortal cultivators too.

But Zhigui didn't say that out loud.

Some truths, from her perspective, were simply a matter of course, but in the eyes of others, they seemed arrogant and untamable.

Chen Ping'an asked, "I came to ask you if there's any way to save Liu Xianyang. I used a locust leaf, and at the time I could barely keep his last breath going. It wasn't much use, but it did something. So I want to ask if you have any locust leaves, especially any extras?"

The girl pointed at her own nose and asked, "Are you asking if my master Song Jixin has locust leaves, or if I, a fatherless and motherless little maidservant, have them?"

Chen Ping'an stared at her intently and said bluntly, "Even if Song Jixin has them, he won't give them to me. I'm asking you, Wang Zhu. If you have any, would you lend them to me? If you don't, do you know of any other way to save Liu Xianyang?"

The girl, who had been called Wang Zhu the whole time, rubbed her chin with one hand and patted her stomach with the other. She shook her head. "None left. Truly none. I'm not lying to you. If you'd come earlier, I might have had a few locust leaves left. As for other methods, of course I don't know. I'm not an immortal. How would I know how to bring the dead back to life or grow flesh on bones? Right, Chen Ping'an? You can't force things. Sigh, I misjudged you. I thought you were different from the others, not someone who would hold a favor over someone's head."

Chen Ping'an still wouldn't give up. "Really none? Even if I can't do it, you could at least tell me."

Zhigui shook her head firmly. "I said I don't have any!"

Chen Ping'an smiled. "I understand."

The boy turned and walked away, his thin figure quickly disappearing into Mud Vase Alley.

The girl stood in the alley at her doorstep, watching his receding figure with a complex expression. There was a hint of sorrow at his misfortune and anger at his lack of struggle. She muttered indignantly, "You finally got a locust leaf, and you just wasted it like that? You might as well go die with Liu Xianyang. Dying early means reincarnating early. If you're lucky, you can be sworn brothers again in the next life. Better than those poor souls who don't even get a next life."

The girl walked back into the courtyard. As she crossed the threshold, she accidentally burped again and sneered, "A bit too full."

Suddenly, she quickened her pace and stomped hard on the ground, then slowly crouched down. Staring at the small yellow four-legged lizard with a horn on its head, she scolded, "Borrow, repay, borrow again—that's how it works. You five little beasts, if you dare to run up a tab or default, I'll skin you alive, pull your tendons, and stew you all in one pot!"

The four-legged lizard under the maidservant's foot struggled desperately, letting out faint hisses as if begging for mercy.

Chen Ping'an left Mud Vase Alley and ran all the way to the school. An old man who was cleaning the school told him that Mr. Qi had gone deep into the mountains outside the town with three outsider guests the day before, saying they wanted to explore secluded spots. The round trip would take at least three days. Chen Ping'an was filled with disappointment. As he turned to leave, the old man with the broom suddenly remembered something and called him back. "Oh, right. Before Mr. Qi left, he instructed me that if someone from Mud Vase Alley came looking for him, to tell that boy that he has already explained the principle long ago. Whether he is at the school today or not, it won't change the outcome."

It was as if Chen Ping'an had known this would be the result. His eyes were dull and lifeless.

Like stagnant water with no ripples, devoid of vitality.

But the boy still bowed to express his gratitude. "Thank you, sir."

The old man quickly stepped aside, waved his hand, and smiled. "I can't bear to be called 'sir.'"

The old man watched the boy walk away slowly. After a distance, it seemed the boy raised an arm to wipe his eyes.

The old man shook his head gently. Thinking of how the other two scholarly seeds of similar age, Song Jixin and Zhao Yao, were doing, and then looking at this boy, the contrast in life's fortunes was like heaven and earth.

Truly, some are riding high on a spring breeze, while others are weathering an autumn of troubles.

Chen Ping'an went back to Mud Vase Alley and picked up the last bag of copper coins hidden in a clay jar. Carrying three bags of coins, he walked to Fulu Street and found the Kiln Affairs Supervisor's Office.

The gatekeeper was confused when he heard the introduction. The neighbor of Song Jixin in Mud Vase Alley wanted to see Song Jixin and Supervisor Song?

Chen Ping'an secretly slipped him a gold essence copper coin he had prepared earlier, without saying a word. The gatekeeper glanced down, weighed it in his hand, and rubbed it between two fingers. He understood but didn't rush to respond. The boy quickly handed over another gold coin. The gatekeeper smiled but didn't take it. "Since you're a sensible person, I'll feel at ease recommending you. If I lose this job because of you, I'll really be the scapegoat. Keep that coin for now. If the steward agrees to let you into the office, give it to me then. If not, I can't help, and that coin is simply not meant for me. What do you think?"

Chen Ping'an nodded vigorously.

Soon, the old steward and the gatekeeper arrived together. The gatekeeper gave the boy a meaningful look, hinting that he shouldn't pull out a coin at this moment—open bribery was a serious crime. Fortunately, the boy didn't do anything foolish. He simply followed the steward into the back hall of the office.

The gatekeeper sighed, feeling a bit puzzled. Why had the steward agreed so readily when he heard it was the boy surnamed Chen from Mud Vase Alley? Since when had the office's threshold become so low?

The gatekeeper felt a little uneasy. In truth, when he had spoken to the steward earlier, he had subtly advised him to avoid trouble and not let the boy in. But he hadn't said it outright, trusting that the old steward, with his many years of experience in the government, would understand.

The young gatekeeper's original plan was to take one coin for nothing, without any risk, and feel good about it.

Now he only hoped that poor boy wouldn't cause any trouble.

In the main hall of the office's rear quarters, the tall man in a white robe sat in the host's seat, drinking tea.

Song Jixin sat in a guest chair on the left, toying with a bamboo folding fan, opening and closing it repeatedly, smiling as he watched the straw-sandaled boy being led in.

The dark chair and the white robe created a stark contrast.

The steward withdrew. The man in the host's seat put down his teacup and smiled at the boy. "Chen Ping'an, make yourself at home. We actually met before in Mud Vase Alley, but I didn't recognize you then. Otherwise, I should have greeted you."

Song Jixin found it amusing. Only he knew that this man said "I" with a slight trace of awkwardness.

The boy sat in the chair opposite Song Jixin.

The man got straight to the point. "Chen Ping'an, you're here about Liu Xianyang's injury?"

Chen Ping'an stood up and said, "I hope you, Supervisor, will severely punish the culprit from Zhengyang Mountain, not just expel him from the town."

The man smiled. "Actually, this town is a 'lawless place,' meaning there are no dynastic laws here. As Supervisor, I'm in an awkward position—I have no authority over local affairs. Moreover, the custom here has always been that if the people don't report it, the officials don't investigate. Whether it's a wealthy household beating a maidservant to death or a poor family brawling and injuring someone, there's no tradition of coming to this Supervisor's Office to beat the drum and demand justice. So, Chen Ping'an, you've brought your pig's head to the wrong temple and bowed to the wrong Buddha."

The man's words and demeanor were amiable, without any trace of arrogance.

Chen Ping'an took out the three bags of copper coins and placed them on a high stool beside his chair. Then, addressing the composed man, he said, "Supervisor, I know you are very powerful. I want to know if you can save Liu Xianyang. Even if you can't, can you give him justice so that the murderer doesn't just leave the town as if nothing happened?"

The man laughed heartily. "I am powerful? That black-clothed girl from your house told you, didn't she? Well, that shows she has excellent martial arts talent, even better than your friend Liu Xianyang. To tell you the truth, I only know how to kill, not how to save. Besides, why would I break a thousand-year-old custom here for a boy I've only met once?"

He pointed at the three bags of coins. "Without the Divine Armor and Sword Scripture, Liu Xianyang's life isn't worth this much money. And to buy my favor, this amount is far from enough. For Great Li to fall out with Zhengyang Mountain over three bags of coins? That's absolutely impossible. It would be a joke across the entire East Treasured Vial Continent. Chen Ping'an, you might not fully understand this now, but if you ever have the chance to travel, you'll see that I'm telling the truth."

Chen Ping'an clenched his teeth. "Supervisor, can you tell me what it would take for you to act? Even if you think I could never do it, could you at least say it?"

The man, who didn't think he had revealed any clues, showed a flash of surprise in his eyes. He smiled lightly. "Chen Ping'an, I'm not looking down on you or deliberately making things difficult for you. On the contrary, I find you interesting, which is why I'm willing to spend time calmly reasoning with you and making a deal. Understand?"

Chen Ping'an nodded.

Song Jixin sat ungracefully, cross-legged on his chair, tapping his knee with the closed fan.

He watched the fire from across the river, indifferent to the troubles of others.

Song Changjing didn't mind Song Jixin's impropriety. In this town, the commandery prince possessed intelligence second only to Qi Jingchun. He finally revealed the truth. "Chen Ping'an, you don't need to feel too guilty or mistakenly think your friend is dying because of you. Liu Xianyang was already trapped in a dead end. As long as he refuses to hand over the Sword Scripture, it can only be a stalemate, because Zhengyang Mountain will definitely want him dead. Neither Qi Jingchun nor Master Ruan can stop them. It's not that no one can defeat that old ape, but the price required is too high—it's not worth it or cost-effective."

The man took a sip of tea and said leisurely, "Chen Ping'an, have you ever wondered why you, who least deserve ancestral blessings, received a locust leaf, while Liu Xianyang, with such good talent and bones, got none? Have you ever thought about that?"

Chen Ping'an said, "I've troubled you, Supervisor."

The straw-sandaled boy picked up the three bags of coins and took his leave.

Though Song Changjing didn't urge him to stay, he personally saw him to the door. Song Jixin was about to reluctantly stand, but saw his uncle shake his head slightly, so he plopped back down comfortably in his chair.

As Chen Ping'an reached the threshold, Song Changjing suddenly said without warning, "There are two things I can do but cannot do. If you accomplish one of them, I might consider helping you deal with that old ape."

The boy quickly stopped and turned around, his face serious.

The man said calmly, "One is to find a way to kidnap the little girl from Zhengyang Mountain who's with the old ape, to unsettle him and force him to stay in the town. The other is to cut down that old locust tree at night and then pull out the iron chain from the iron-locked well. You can do both or just one. If you do one, I'll help you severely wound the murderer. If you do both, I'll kill the old ape from Zhengyang Mountain for you."

Song Changjing smiled and promised, "My word is my bond. I will never break it!"

Then the powerful commandery prince of Great Li said something inexplicable: "Chen Ping'an, I believe you can sense whether a statement is true or false."

The boy left in silence.

Song Changjing, who hadn't heard the boy thump his chest and make bold claims, found that normal. Standing at the door, with his back to Song Jixin inside the room, he asked, "You know him better. Do you think he'll do it?"

Song Jixin shook his head. "Hard to say. Under normal circumstances, it would be very difficult for him to do something against his conscience. But for Liu Xianyang's sake, it might be a different story."

The man stood with his hands behind his back, looking at the sky, and asked, "Suppose the boy really surprises me. If I use this chance to intervene, whether it's to build a good relationship with Zhengyang Mountain or form an alliance with Wind Thunder Manor, I can only choose one. It might even mean making an enemy of the other. Compared to staying aloof and letting Great Li maintain a lukewarm, distant relationship with both sides, which outcome do you think is better for Great Li?"

Song Jixin stood up, tapped the folded fan against his palm, paced slowly, and after thinking, said, "In times of peace, choose the latter. In times of chaos, choose the former."

Then the boy smiled. "No matter whether the world outside this town is in peace or chaos, it seems you, Uncle, have already made your choice."

Song Changjing snorted. "What would a battlefield warrior like me do in times of peace? Act as a watchdog for scholars?"

He turned to look at the stiff-faced boy. "I can see that this boy is your true mental knot. It won't be easy for you to untie it quickly. If you leave this town with that knot unresolved, it will hinder your future cultivation. So you can watch how a simple, innocent boy becomes full of resentment and worldly-minded. Then you'll find it boring to hold a grudge against someone like that."

Song Jixin opened his mouth but didn't argue. He fell into deep thought.

The man walked back into the room, sat in the main seat, looked up, and drained his teacup in one gulp. "Most importantly, aside from making up a flimsy excuse to fish in troubled waters, I'm playing this boring little game to teach you a lesson. On the path of cultivation you're about to tread, anyone could be your enemy—including your own uncle, Song Changjing."

The boy was stunned.

Song Changjing sneered. "Because a mental knot that festers, if not uprooted, will bring endless trouble, like weeds on a prairie that grow again with the spring breeze."

He jeered contemptuously. "The soon-to-be exalted Prince of Great Li, Song Jixin, are you seething with indignation? But what can you do now? So how are you any better off than Chen Ping'an, who's being toyed with in the palm of my hand?"

Song Jixin stared fixedly at the man with a calm expression, his knuckles white as he gripped the folding fan.

The man sat upright in his chair, his gaze deep as he looked outside, almost talking to himself. "The more people you see in the future, the more you'll find one interesting thing: what they call 'good and evil reap their rewards,' 'righteous revenge,' 'a commoner's anger draws blood,' 'talented scholars and beautiful maidens,' 'lovers finally get married'—all of that is just wishful thinking concocted by the weak. So, your own fists must be strong. Rely on me? Rely on your biological parents? I advise you to abandon that idea. Otherwise, taking you away from this town will be no different from carrying your corpse to a mass grave. The imperial household is also a place where one lives or dies on their own."

The boy was drenched in sweat and slumped dejectedly into his chair.

Though the boy had hidden his smugness well after learning his true identity, behaving normally in the office, to the eyes of Commandery Prince Song Changjing, it was like holding a demon-revealing mirror, reflecting a spirit that had just taken human form. In a word or two, it could be reduced to ashes.

Song Changjing gazed into the distance, his sight seeming to reach the southernmost point of East Treasured Vial Continent, to that distant Old Dragon City.

The commandery prince, for some reason, recalled a saying: "The human heart is a mirror. The cleaner it is, the less dust it accumulates, and the less it can withstand scrutiny or temptation."

Song Changjing felt that though the scholars at court were long-winded and detestable, sometimes the great principles they uttered were things that we blade-wielding warriors could never think of or articulate even if we lived a thousand years.

He pulled his thoughts together and pointed southward, his finger like a spear or halberd, sharp and exposed. "Song Jixin, if you think I'm wrong today, that's fine, but keep it to yourself. Only when you get to Old Dragon City and we switch seats will I consider listening!"

The prince of Great Li, Song Jixin, had already recovered his composure and smiled. "I'll be waiting."

At the entrance of the office, the straw-sandaled boy handed the second coin to the gatekeeper as promised.

— —

At the Twelve-Foot Archway Tower, Chen Ping'an saw the black-clothed girl's figure and ran over quickly.

Ning Yao stood beneath the plaque that read "Spirit Rushing through the Bowl" and asked, "How did it go?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "I looked for all three. I saw two of them, but I couldn't see Mr. Qi. But I knew the answer from the start."

A righteous man does not save.

Mr. Qi had indeed said that before.

Ning Yao frowned and said nothing.

Chen Ping'an then warned the girl to be careful and started running away.

He first went to the Yang Family Shop. Using one gold essence copper coin, he bought a large quantity of medicine bottles, ointments, and medicinal herbs from the well-informed old shopkeeper—things used for treating bruises, fractures, and internal injuries. The boy knew well how to use and decoct these items. Working at the dragon kiln was a trade that depended on the mountain, often accompanied by various accidents. Though Old Man Yao looked down on Chen Ping'an, who was only half a disciple, he had to admit the boy was quick on his feet and had no ulterior motives. So many errands and spending tasks were left to Chen Ping'an, like buying and decocting medicine for wounded kiln workers.

Chen Ping'an returned to his ancestral home in Mud Vase Alley. After closing the door, he started decocting a prescription for internal injuries. While waiting for the fire to be just right, he spread a clean but washed-out shirt on the table and tore it into strips of bandages. The straw-sandaled boy, known for being stingy, showed no reluctance. Besides binding the knife that Ning Yao had lent him to his arm, he also wound layers of cotton strips around his calves and wrists.

Chen Ping'an took down the self-made wooden bow from the wall. After a moment's hesitation, he decided not to bring it. Instead, he retrieved the slingshot and a bag of pebbles from the windowsill.

The reason he persisted in doing things he knew were unlikely to succeed, without regret after three failures, was the boy's unique stubbornness.

If he didn't try, he would never be reconciled. It was the same as when he begged the old shopkeeper at the blacksmith's to try one last time.

First, he sought out the mysterious Zhigui, hoping to find a chance for Liu Xianyang to survive. Next, he looked for Mr. Qi, harboring a faint hope that he would uphold justice. Finally, he visited the martial arts grandmaster Ning Yao had mentioned, Supervisor Song, clearly intending to spend his entire fortune on a deal.

The boy had thought it through clearly from the start. So now, though disappointed, he didn't feel heartbroken.

In truth, Commandery Prince Song Changjing and his neighbor Song Jixin didn't understand Chen Ping'an at all.

Some things, even if you die, you still have to do. But some things, even if you die, you cannot do.

The boy crouched in a corner, quietly waiting for the medicinal decoction to be ready. This jar of medicine was unusual; its only purpose was to relieve pain. Once, a man at the dragon kiln had fallen ill with a strange disease. He had struggled in bed for half a day, half-dead, his face and limbs twisted in agony. The Yang Family Shop gave him this prescription. The man died soon after, but without pain. He even had the strength to sit up, say his last words, and, with Old Man Yao's help, take one last look at the kiln entrance.

Chen Ping'an thought he might need it too.

The boy noticed some leftover cloth scraps on the table, took off his worn straw sandals, and put on a new pair he had been reluctant to wear. He moved the clay jar and took out some broken porcelain pieces.

About half an hour later, the boy, having finished everything, opened the door and silently left Mud Vase Alley.

Close to dusk, the sunlight was no longer harsh. Layers of fiery clouds piled up at the horizon, magnificently splendid.

The straw-sandaled boy walked toward Fulu Street.

On the bluestone street, there were no other pedestrians. The boy walked alone.