Sword Arrives

The child outside kept banging on the door, "Zhigui, following such a useless master, how miserable for you. Why don't you just elope with Liu Xianyang? That big fool looks at you like he wants to eat you alive."

Zhigui turned around and walked toward the house.

Inside, Song Jixin was carefully polishing a green gourd, an old relic whose origins were unclear. It was one of the "family heirlooms" left by his father. At first, Song Jixin didn't care much for it, but later, he noticed that whenever there was a thunderstorm, the gourd would buzz. However, whenever he removed the lid, no matter how he shook it, nothing would come out. Whether he filled it with water or sand, when poured out, it would always be exactly the same amount, no more, no less. Frustrated, and after being irritated by Gu Can's sharp-tongued mother outside—who kept calling him the bastard son without a father—Song Jixin decided to take a knife to the gourd. He chopped at it, expecting something to happen. To his astonishment, the blade bent, but the gourd remained perfectly intact, without even a scratch.

A letter that was burned by Song Jixin in his earlier years read: "The gold, silver, and copper coins moved to the small courtyard will ensure that you and your maid live without worry. In your leisure time, you may collect antiques that please your heart, as a way to cultivate your temperament. Though the town is small, coarse grains nourish the stomach, books nourish the spirit, scenery nourishes the eyes, and solitude nourishes the heart. From today on, do your best and leave the rest to fate. A hidden dragon will eventually emerge, and you will be rewarded in the future."

Although Song Jixin resented that man, he knew that money not spent would incur the wrath of the heavens. In the simple and unpretentious town, it was hard to live extravagantly, and over the years, Song Jixin had genuinely grown fond of the trade of collecting junk. His large lacquer box was filled to the brim with oddities, like this green gourd, which were rarely seen. However, Song Jixin had a mysterious intuition that, of all the objects in the box—more than thirty in total—the most valuable was this gourd. Next in value was a rusty purple-gold bell, which, when shaken, clearly showed the hammer striking the inner wall, but produced no sound. This eerie silence both unsettled and fascinated Song Jixin. Finally, there was an ancient teapot inscribed with "Mountain Demon," and the rest of the objects, though liked by Song Jixin, were far from love at first sight.

The boy named Gu Can stood outside the door, shouting at the top of his lungs, his voice full of energy.

Before long, the shouting abruptly stopped.

Then Chen Ping'an saw the boy suddenly burst through the gate of his courtyard, his face filled with panic. After quickly securing the door, he crouched next to it, signaling to Chen Ping'an to join him.

Confused, Chen Ping'an bent down and ran to the boy's side, squatting down and quietly asking, "Gu Can, what are you doing? Did you make your mother angry again?"

The boy sniffed hard, lowering his voice. "Chen Ping'an, I'm telling you, I just ran into a strange person. The white bowl he had in his hand—it could keep pouring water endlessly. I swear, it's just this tiny bowl, but I saw him pour water for a whole hour! That guy stopped when he passed by the entrance to our Mud Bottle Alley. Maybe he saw me? Oh no, this is bad…"

The boy gestured with his hands to show the size of the bowl, then patted his chest and sighed, "It really scared the life out of Song Jixin's dad."

Chen Ping'an asked, "You're talking about the storyteller under the locust tree?"

The boy nodded vigorously. "That's right! The old man's not strong, he couldn't even lift me, but that damn bowl—it's really creepy. It's like it's got some kind of evil power!"

Suddenly, the boy grabbed Chen Ping'an's arm. "Chen Ping'an, I swear I'm not lying this time! I swear it! If I'm lying, let Song Jixin die a horrible death!"

Chen Ping'an raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence.

The boy immediately fell silent.

Outside, the sound of footsteps gradually approached, then faded away.

One thing defeats another.

The fearless boy, who was usually bold and reckless, suddenly sat down with a thud, wiping his face in a hasty and disordered manner. His face turned pale, and it was clear that the boy, named Gu Can, had truly been scared half to death.

Suddenly, the boy asked, "Chen Ping'an, what if that guy went to my house? What do we do?"

Chen Ping'an sighed in exasperation. "Want me to go with you and check?"

It seemed the boy had been waiting for this response. He sprang to his feet, only to collapse again with a mournful expression. "Chen Ping'an, my legs are weak. I can't walk anymore."

Chen Ping'an stood up, bent down, grabbed the back of the boy's collar, and lifted him up with one hand. With the other, he opened the door and walked out of the yard.

The boy's house wasn't far—just about a hundred steps away. Sure enough, when they arrived, they saw the old man standing in the boy's courtyard. To the boy's shock, his mother had even brought a stool for the old man to sit on.

At that moment, the boy felt as if the sky had collapsed. So, he chose to hide behind Chen Ping'an, letting the taller man take the brunt of whatever was coming.

Chen Ping'an didn't let the boy down, intentionally or unintentionally shielding him with his own presence.

When the mischievous Gu Can grabbed Chen Ping'an's sleeve, he suddenly felt a surge of confidence.

The old man paid him no mind. Sitting on the stool, he pondered for a moment, then—without warning—the white bowl in his hand vanished into thin air.

Gu Can's legs immediately went weak again, and he scurried behind Chen Ping'an, trembling.

The old man glanced at the village woman, whose expression remained unusually calm, then at the frowning youngster in straw sandals. Finally, he turned to the cowering child and asked, "Little one, do you know what's in your family's water tank?"

The boy, still hiding behind Chen Ping'an, shouted, "What else would it be? The fish, shrimp, and crabs I caught from the creek, and the eels and loaches from the fields! If you like any, feel free to take them, don't be shy…"

His voice trailed off, growing increasingly faint. It was clear his confidence had vanished.

The woman brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, looking at Chen Ping'an. In a soft voice, she said, "Ping'an."

Chen Ping'an understood her meaning. He ruffled Gu Can's head, then turned and left.

In the depths of the woman's gaze, there was a trace of guilt directed at the youngster in straw sandals.

She pushed the thought aside and turned to the old man, asking, "As for this Immortal Master from afar, should we pay for the opportunity, or take it by force?"

The old man shook his head with a smile. "Pay for? I can't afford it. Take it by force? I couldn't take it, even if I wanted to."

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

The old man, who had been in a relaxed state, was struck as if by lightning upon hearing these words. He suddenly swung his sleeve, his fingers moving with lightning speed.