Wild Grass

Chen Ping'an returned to his yard, his eyelids twitching uncontrollably. The old saying went, "Left eye for wealth, right eye for disaster."

Sitting on the doorstep, Chen Ping'an began to imagine himself shaping clay on a potter's wheel. His hands hovered in the air as he quickly entered a state of deep concentration. This was not just a matter of diligence; it also helped him stave off hunger. Thus, whenever he had something on his mind, he would mentally simulate pottery-making. Firing porcelain was a matter of destiny; one never knew if the glaze and shape would meet expectations until the kiln was opened. However, before firing, the crucial step was shaping the clay. Chen Ping'an, considered untalented by Old Yao, was mostly given labor-intensive tasks like preparing the clay. He would observe attentively, then practice on his own, trying to get the feel of it.

Next door, the sound of a wooden gate opening revealed Song Jixin returning from school with his maid, Zhi Gui. The handsome boy made a sprint, effortlessly leaping onto the low wall. Squatting down, he opened his palm, revealing tiny stones of various colors—white as mutton fat jade, bean green, and white lotus root. These worthless stones were scattered along the town's stream banks. The most popular were the bright red stones that looked like they were filled with chicken blood. Master Qi at the school had carved a seal for his student Zhao Yao from one such stone, which Song Jixin admired and had tried unsuccessfully to trade for several times.

Song Jixin threw a stone at Chen Ping'an, hitting his chest lightly. Chen Ping'an didn't react. He threw another, this time hitting Chen Ping'an's forehead, but still, he remained motionless. Song Jixin, used to this, dumped the remaining stones, hitting Chen Ping'an with seven or eight of them. Though he wanted to make Chen Ping'an flinch, he avoided hitting his arms or fingers, feeling it would be an unfair victory.

After throwing all the stones, Song Jixin clapped his hands clean. Chen Ping'an exhaled deeply, shook his wrists, and ignored Song Jixin. He then bent his head, his left hand mimicking the grip of a carving knife.

The skill of carving patterns on pottery, known as "jumping knife," was not exclusive to any particular master among the town's old potters. Yet Old Yao's technique was universally praised. Although he had taken on several apprentices, none satisfied him until Liu Xianyang, whom he saw as a worthy successor. Whenever Liu Xianyang practiced, Chen Ping'an would watch intently if he had no tasks at hand.

Liu Xianyang, who prided himself on his skill, often shared Old Yao's secret techniques with Chen Ping'an, knowing the latter could keep a secret. He would say, "To make steady cuts, your hand must be steady, but that steadiness comes from a calm heart." However, when Chen Ping'an asked what a calm heart meant, Liu Xianyang would be at a loss.

After watching for a while, Song Jixin grew bored and jumped down from the wall to go inside. Zhi Gui, standing at the wall, had to stand on tiptoe to see over it, revealing her budding beauty. She hesitated, then spoke softly, "Chen Ping'an, can you pick up those two stones for me? I like them."

Chen Ping'an looked up slowly, his hands still steady, and signaled for her to wait a moment. Zhi Gui smiled sweetly, like the first green bud in spring, but Chen Ping'an missed the charming sight as he had already lowered his head. Her eyes sparkled, as if tiny creatures were swimming in them.

When Chen Ping'an finally stopped and asked which stones she meant, Zhi Gui's eyes returned to their usual soft, muddy brown. Following her directions, he picked up the two stones—a transparent red one and a snow-white one—and placed them on the wall for her.

She picked them up and held them tightly in her palm. For someone actively seeking such things, they might be as rare as a needle in a haystack, but for someone who stumbled upon them by chance, they could be as common as street trash, depending on one's mood.

Chen Ping'an joked, "Aren't you afraid the snot-nosed kid will curse at your door for hours?"

Zhi Gui didn't acknowledge whether her master had stolen the stones, nor did she deny it. She simply smiled in silence. In the town, a certain mother and son duo were undefeated in cursing matches, except by Song Jixin. The son, particularly mischievous, always had snot running from his nose and loved fishing in the stream and collecting stones. Song Jixin would often swipe a few, and once the boy realized his treasures were missing, he'd explode like a wildcat, cursing for an hour while his mother egged him on by mentioning Song Jixin's supposed illegitimacy. Several times, Song Jixin was so angered he almost grabbed a bench to go fight, only to be talked down by Zhi Gui.

Suddenly, a sharp voice yelled, "Song Jixin, come catch your maid flirting with Chen Ping'an! If you don't control your maid, she'll be climbing over to his place tonight! Chen Ping'an's already touching her face and smiling like a creep…"

Song Jixin didn't appear but shouted from inside, "So what? I saw Chen Ping'an groping your mother last night. She's so… well-endowed he was sweating buckets pulling his hand out…"

The boy outside kicked at Song Jixin's gate, shouting, "Come out and duel! If you lose, give me Zhi Gui as a maid to serve me. If I lose, I'll be Chen Ping'an's servant. Do you dare, or are you a coward?"

Inside, Song Jixin lazily replied, "Go cool off! Today's not a good day to beat my son, Gu Can. You're lucky!"

The boy outside pounded on the gate, "Zhi Gui, you're too good for this wimp! Run away with Liu Xianyang; he looks at you like he wants to eat you."

Zhi Gui turned to go inside. Song Jixin was polishing a green gourd, an ancient artifact left by his predecessor. Initially dismissive, he found it buzzed during storms. Despite shaking it, nothing came out. Attempts to fill it with water or sand yielded the same amount. Frustrated by being called an illegitimate child by Gu Can's mother, he tried to chop the gourd, but the blade dulled while the gourd remained unscathed.

An old letter had read, "The funds moved to the small courtyard ensure your livelihood. In leisure, collect antiques to cultivate your mind. Though the town is small, coarse grains nourish the body, books the spirit, and scenery the eyes. Patience will bring rewards."

Though Song Jixin resented the man, he enjoyed collecting oddities, filling a red lacquered box with them. Of all, the green gourd felt the most precious, followed by a rusty purple-gold bell that remained silent when shaken, despite the clapper striking the sides. This paradox intrigued him. Lastly, a teapot labeled "Mountain Goblin" also seemed valuable. The rest were just curiosities he fancied.

Outside, Gu Can continued cursing until he suddenly stopped. He burst into his yard, locked the gate, and crouched beside it, signaling Chen Ping'an to join him. Chen Ping'an, puzzled, crouched down and asked softly, "Gu Can, what's wrong? Did you anger your mother again?"

Gu Can sniffled, whispering, "Chen Ping'an, I met a weird guy with a bowl that kept pouring water endlessly. He just passed our alley. What if he saw me?"

He mimicked the bowl's size, then patted his chest, exclaiming, "It scared me to death."

Chen Ping'an asked, "You mean the storyteller under the locust tree?"

Gu Can nodded vigorously, "Yes, that weak old man couldn't even lift me, but his bowl was terrifying!"

Grabbing Chen Ping'an's arm, he swore, "I'm not lying! If I am, may Song Jixin die horribly!"

Chen Ping'an raised a finger to his lips. Footsteps approached and then faded away. The usually fearless Gu Can sat down, wiping his face, clearly scared.

"What if he went to my house?" Gu Can fretted.

Chen Ping'an sighed, "Want me to go with you to check?"

Gu Can, awaiting this offer, stood up but then sat back down, lamenting, "My legs are weak."

Chen Ping'an lifted Gu Can by his collar, opened the gate, and walked out. They only had to go a hundred steps to reach Gu Can's house, where the old man was already sitting in the yard, talking to Gu Can's mother, who had given him a stool.

Terrified, Gu Can hid behind Chen Ping'an, who shielded him. Feeling braver, Gu Can held Chen Ping'an's sleeve tightly.

The old man, unfazed, sat back, and the white bowl vanished. Gu Can, trembling, hid further behind Chen Ping'an. The old man glanced at the calm village woman, then at the frowning boy in straw sandals, and finally spoke to the cowering child, "Do you know what you're raising in your water tank?"

Gu Can stammered, "Just fish, shrimp, crabs, loaches, and eels from the creek and fields. If you like them, take them…"

His voice trailed off, lacking confidence.

The woman smoothed her hair and softly said,

"Ping'an."

Understanding her meaning, Chen Ping'an patted Gu Can's head and left. The woman looked at Chen Ping'an with a hint of guilt.

She turned to the old man, "Master, do you intend to buy or steal this opportunity?"

The old man laughed, "Buy? I can't afford it. Steal? I can't take it."

She shook her head, "It may have been so before, but not anymore."

The old man, shocked, performed a rapid sequence of hand gestures. "Why must it come to this?" he sighed.

The woman coldly replied, "Do you think anyone in this town is truly good?"

The old man stood, deeply looking at the confused child. Making a monumental decision, he made the bowl reappear, scooped a bowl of water from the tank, and returned to his seat, beckoning Gu Can, "Come look."

Gu Can glanced at his mother, who nodded encouragingly. As he approached, the old man blew gently on the water, creating ripples. "Open your mouth," he instructed, pulling a green locust leaf from somewhere on the boy and flicking it into his mouth.

Gu Can, feeling no change, looked puzzled. The old man didn't give him time to ask, pointing to the bowl. "Look closely."

Gu Can saw a tiny black dot that grew into a black line, then a small yellow loach happily wriggling in the bowl. Remembering, he exclaimed, "I know it! It's from Chen Ping'an…"

His mother slapped him, "Quiet!"

The old man, unfazed, said, "For immortality, we go against the natural order. This struggle is nothing. What's meant for your son is inevitable, and what's not meant for the other boy won't stay with him."

Gu Can weighed under forty pounds, but his "roots" were incredibly dense. When the old man had tried to lift him using ancestral techniques, he found Gu Can immovable, confirming him as a potential disciple. He chuckled, his eyes cold, "Even if it was originally the other boy's, it's not anymore with me here."

Gu Can shivered, teeth chattering, while his mother relaxed.

The old man's expression softened, "Child, this bowl holds a whole river and now a little dragon. From now on, you are my true disciple. I am a 'True Lord,' nearly a founder of a sect. You'll understand the weight of those titles later."

He laughed, "More significant than this bowl of river water."

Gu Can burst into tears, "This isn't right! It belongs to Chen Ping'an!"

His mother raised her hand to slap him again, but the old man waved it off, "Such a heart isn't all bad."

Gu Can wiped his tears and snot. His mother and new master smiled faintly at each other, understanding without words. Gu Can looked back as Chen Ping'an closed the gate behind him.

---

The town, like a field in a bumper year, was ready for harvest. Yet some, like the solitary boy in straw sandals walking through Mud Bottle Alley, were like wild grass among the crops, barely noticed by anyone.