Legacy of the Blade

During festivals and holidays, people in the small town were willing to spend ten coins for a bit of good luck, treating it as a tradition. But when faced with real troubles, no one would carelessly throw their money away by coming here. It wasn't fair to call the young Taoist priest a fraud; after all, the town was small, and a con artist wouldn't have lasted this long without being chased out. His abilities clearly didn't lie solely in fortune-telling or interpreting divinations. For minor illnesses or small misfortunes, many locals had tried his talismans and found them surprisingly effective.

The young Taoist shook his head and said, "I've set my price—five coins for the reading and the talisman, no exceptions."

Chen Ping'an muttered softly, "You said it was three coins."

The priest laughed. "If you draw the highest fortune card, it's still just five coins."

Chen Ping'an hesitated but then reached for the bamboo tube holding the divination sticks. Suddenly, he looked up and asked, "How did you know I only had five coins on me?"

The Taoist straightened his posture and replied, "I can see a person's fortune and wealth just by looking at them. I'm always spot-on."

After a moment of thought, Chen Ping'an picked up the tube.

The Taoist smiled. "Don't worry, young man. What's meant to be will be, and what's not meant to be cannot be forced. Approach the unknown with a calm heart, and you'll be safe from harm."

But instead of drawing a stick, Chen Ping'an put the tube back on the table and said solemnly, "If I give you all five coins, can you make the talisman extra special for me without the fortune reading?"

The Taoist paused, then nodded with a smile. "That can be arranged."

He took out a yellow talisman paper and, after asking for Chen Ping'an's full name, birthdate, and family details, began writing with a flowing brush. The symbols and characters were incomprehensible to Chen Ping'an.

After finishing, the priest handed over the talisman and said, "Take it home, stand inside your door, and burn this outside. That will do."

Chen Ping'an carefully accepted the talisman, placed five coins on the table, and bowed deeply before leaving.

The priest lazily leaned back on his chair, idly playing with the coins as a tiny sparrow landed on the table, pecked at the coins, and quickly flew off.

Reciting a couplet softly, the Taoist sighed dramatically, "Destiny grants you eight feet; how can you hope for ten?"

With a theatrical flick of his sleeve, two bamboo sticks accidentally fell out of his wide sleeve onto the ground. Flustered, he quickly picked them up and glanced around to ensure no one had noticed. Once satisfied, he discreetly hid the sticks back in his sleeve.

One of the sticks bore the highest fortune, while the other held the lowest. These were his secret tools for making a windfall when needed. But, of course, that was a secret he'd never share.

Meanwhile, oblivious to such schemes, Chen Ping'an walked lightly toward the town schoolhouse to deliver his last letter. Nearby, the sound of rustling bamboo in the breeze created a tranquil atmosphere. Inside the school, a deep and steady voice recited, "As the sun rises, light and warmth fill the land."

A chorus of children repeated the phrase in unison, their young voices bright and eager.

As Chen Ping'an reached the door, he hesitated but was greeted warmly by the teacher, a tall man in simple scholar's robes. Accepting the letter with a smile, the teacher said, "Feel free to stop by and listen whenever you have time."

Chen Ping'an, uncertain he could spare the time, nodded awkwardly, unwilling to lie. The teacher chuckled and added, "Don't worry. The lessons are all in books, but the principles of life are learned outside of them. Go on with your day."

Relieved, Chen Ping'an bowed and left, glancing back once as he walked away. The teacher stood at the door, bathed in sunlight, his figure noble and serene, like a sage out of legend.

When Chen Ping'an finally returned home, he found his courtyard gate wide open. Panicking, he rushed in, only to see Liu Tienyang, a burly boy two years older than him, lounging against his locked bedroom door, looking thoroughly bored.

The moment he spotted Chen Ping'an, Liu Tienyang leaped up and dragged him toward the door, whispering urgently, "Hurry, open it! I need to tell you something important!"

Unable to resist, Chen Ping'an unlocked the door and was promptly shoved aside as Liu Tienyang scrambled inside. The older boy pressed his ear against the shared wall, listening intently.

"What are you doing?" Chen Ping'an asked curiously.

Liu Tienyang ignored him, focusing on whatever he thought he might hear. After some time, he finally relaxed, sitting on the edge of Chen Ping'an's bed with a mix of relief and disappointment.

Meanwhile, Chen Ping'an knelt near the door with a short candle stub in hand, carefully burning the yellow talisman outside. Ashes fluttered down to the ground as he muttered something under his breath.