Legacy of the Blade

However, the boy never once resented the old man, let alone held a grudge against him.

Born into a poor family and never having had the chance to study, the boy understood one truth that didn't come from books: apart from one's parents, no one in the world will treat you well without expecting something in return.

And his parents had passed away long ago.

Chen Ping'an sat patiently, enduring his temperament. The scruffy man, sensing that he probably couldn't get away without paying, rolled his eyes and joked, "It's just five coins. A man so petty won't go far in life."

Chen Ping'an looked helpless. "Aren't you the one being petty?"

The man grinned, revealing uneven, yellowed teeth, and chuckled, "That's why I'm saying—if you don't want to end up as broke as me someday, don't hold onto those five coins so tightly."

Chen Ping'an sighed and looked up, speaking earnestly. "If you're truly in a pinch, let's call it even for the five coins. But we agreed before—one letter costs one coin. No more skipping payments."

The man, reeking of sourness, turned his head and smirked. "Kid, with a stubborn personality like yours, you're bound to suffer big losses in the future. Haven't you ever heard the saying, 'Suffering a loss is a blessing'? If you're not even willing to take a little loss…"

He glanced at the dirt in the boy's hands, paused briefly, then teased, "Well, it looks like your fate is to 'face the dirt and toil under the sun.'"

Chen Ping'an countered, "Didn't I just say you can keep the five coins? Doesn't that count as a small loss?"

The man looked startled, then annoyed, and waved him off. "Get lost! Talking to a kid like you is exhausting."

Chen Ping'an loosened his fingers and flicked the dirt away. Standing up, he said, "The ground under the tree is a bit too damp…"

The man glanced up and mockingly shouted, "Do I need you to teach me that? Young people like you are so full of energy, you could roast bread just by sitting!"

As the boy walked away, the man glanced at his retreating figure, smirked, and muttered something under his breath—probably a curse aimed at the heavens.

Today, Teacher Qi unexpectedly dismissed class early.

Behind the school was a courtyard with a small bamboo gate on the northern side that led into a bamboo grove.

While Song Jixin and his maid, Zhi Kui, were listening to stories under the locust tree, someone summoned him to play chess. He wasn't thrilled but couldn't refuse when he learned it was at Teacher Qi's request to assess their progress.

Song Jixin had a complicated respect for Teacher Qi—a mix of awe and reverence—so when the teacher issued such a "command," he had no choice but to agree. Still, he insisted on waiting until the storyteller finished before heading to the back courtyard.

The young messenger reminded him not to be late, rambling about how particular Teacher Qi was about punctuality and keeping promises.

Song Jixin covered his ears and reluctantly replied, "I know, I know!"

When Song Jixin and Zhi Kui arrived at the back courtyard, a cold breeze brushed through the air. The refined young man in blue robes was already seated properly on a southern bench, sitting straight with impeccable posture.

Song Jixin plopped down opposite him, facing north.

Teacher Qi sat to the west, silently observing the game.

As usual, Zhi Kui left to wander the bamboo grove, not wanting to disturb the three "scholars." This was her routine whenever her young master played chess.

In this small town, true scholars were rare, as there were no established literary traditions or prominent families.

Following Teacher Qi's rules, Song Jixin and the boy in blue took turns guessing stones to decide who would play black and take the first move.

The two boys had started learning chess together, but Song Jixin, being naturally gifted, progressed rapidly and reached a high level under Teacher Qi's guidance. His opponent, though diligent and often observing the teacher's matches, had only improved enough to occasionally win when given the first move.

Song Jixin was about to take his stones when Teacher Qi suddenly said, "Today, let's play a game of seated chess. White moves first."

Both boys were puzzled, having never heard of "seated chess."

Teacher Qi calmly explained the new rules, briefly placing two black and two white stones on the board's star points. His movements were fluid and practiced, like a graceful flow of water.

The boy in blue, usually a stickler for rules, stared at the board in shock and hesitantly asked, "Teacher, isn't this… kind of impractical?"

Song Jixin, after frowning in thought, suddenly brightened. "Oh, I see! The board layout becomes smaller, doesn't it?"

He looked up, smiling. "Is that right, Teacher Qi?"

The middle-aged scholar nodded. "Indeed."

Song Jixin smirked at his opponent and asked, "Want me to let you have two stones? Otherwise, you'll definitely lose."

The boy across from him flushed, knowing full well that his recent victories were more due to Song Jixin's growing boredom with chess than his own skills. Often, Song Jixin would deliberately take risky moves, even when he had a clear lead.

For Song Jixin, chess was just another outlet for his brilliance—one he no longer found interesting.

But for the boy in blue, every move was a matter of winning or losing.