Startled Insects

On the second day of the second lunar month, the dragon raises its head.

In the twilight, in a secluded place called Mud Bottle Alley in the small town, there was a lonely, thin young boy. At this time, following custom, he held a candle in one hand and a peach branch in the other, shining them on the beams, walls, and wooden bed, tapping with the peach branch to try and drive away snakes, scorpions, centipedes, and the like. He muttered incantations, ancient words passed down through generations in this town: "Second day of the second month, candle shines on the beam, peach strikes the wall, no place for snakes and insects in the human world to hide."

The boy's surname was Chen, his given name Ping'an. His parents had died long ago. The town's porcelain was extremely famous. Since the founding of the current dynasty, it had borne the important responsibility of "supervising the firing of imperial tomb ritual vessels by decree," with imperial officials stationed here year-round to oversee the affairs of the official kilns. An orphan with no one to rely on, the boy became a kiln worker at a young age. At first, he could only do odd jobs and rough work, following a bad-tempered, self-taught master. After a few years of hardship, he had just begun to grasp some of the art of porcelain firing. However, fate is unpredictable. The town suddenly lost its protective charm, the official kiln workshop. Dozens of kilns, shaped like sleeping dragons around the town, were all ordered to be shut down and extinguished by the authorities overnight.

Chen Ping'an put down the peach branch he had just broken, blew out the candle, and walked out of the house. He sat on the steps, looked up, and saw the starry sky.

The young man still clearly remembered his master, who only acknowledged him as a half-disciple. His surname was Yao. In the early morning of late autumn last year, he was found sitting on a small bamboo chair, facing the kiln opening, with his eyes closed.

However, people like Old Man Yao, who were so stubborn, were ultimately few.

The town's artisans, who had only known how to fire porcelain for generations, dared not overstep and fire tribute imperial wares, nor dared they privately sell their stored porcelain to the common people. They had no choice but to seek other avenues. Fourteen-year-old Chen Ping'an was also kicked out and returned to Mud Bottle Alley, continuing to guard the dilapidated old house. It was almost a scene of utter destitution, with nothing in the house. Even if Chen Ping'an wanted to be a prodigal son, he had no way to start.

After being a wandering solitary ghost for some time, the young man truly couldn't find any way to earn money. Relying on his meager savings, he barely managed to fill his stomach. A few days ago, he heard that a blacksmith from out of town, surnamed Ruan, had come to a street a few blocks away, proclaiming he was looking for seven or eight apprentices to learn blacksmithing. He wouldn't pay wages but would provide food. Chen Ping'an hurried to try his luck. He never expected that the middle-aged man would merely glance at him and turn him away. Chen Ping'an was puzzled at the time, wondering if blacksmithing depended on one's appearance rather than the strength of one's arms.

One must know that although Chen Ping'an looked frail, his strength was not to be underestimated. This was the foundation built from years of pulling clay on the potter's wheel while firing porcelain. Besides this, Chen Ping'an had followed the old man surnamed Yao, traveling all over the mountains and waters within a hundred-mile radius of the town, tasting various soils, working diligently and without complaint, willing to do any dirty or tiring work without hesitation. Unfortunately, Old Yao never liked Chen Ping'an, disliking his lack of comprehension, calling him a blockhead who couldn't grasp things, far inferior to his eldest disciple, Liu Xianyang. This was not surprising, as the master leads the way, but the cultivation is personal. For example, the same tedious task of pulling clay, Liu Xianyang's skill in just half a year was equivalent to Chen Ping'an's hard work over three years.

Although he might never use this skill in his life, Chen Ping'an still closed his eyes as usual, imagining a bluestone slab and a potter's wheel in front of him, and began to practice pulling clay, believing that practice makes perfect.

After about every quarter of an hour, the young man would rest briefly, shake his wrists, and repeat this cycle until he was completely exhausted. Only then would Chen Ping'an get up, pace in the courtyard, and slowly stretch his muscles. No one had ever taught Chen Ping'an these things; he had figured them out himself.

The world was originally silent, but Chen Ping'an heard a harsh, mocking laugh. He stopped and, as expected, saw his peer squatting on the wall, grinning, his contempt undisguised.

This person was Chen Ping'an's old neighbor, rumored to be the illegitimate son of the former supervisor. Fearing criticism from the pure and upright or impeachment from officials, that official had returned to the capital alone to report, entrusting his child to a successor official with whom he had a close personal relationship to help look after him. Now, the town had inexplicably lost its qualification to fire imperial porcelain. The supervisor, responsible for overseeing the kilns for the court, was himself in a precarious position. How could he still care about the illegitimate son of his political colleague? He left some money and hurried to the capital to make connections.

Unknowingly reduced to an abandoned child, the neighbor boy's life continued leisurely. He spent his days wandering around the town with his personal maid, idle all year round, and never worrying about money.

The earthen courtyard walls of every household in Mud Bottle Alley were very low. In fact, the neighbor boy didn't need to stand on tiptoe to see the scene in this courtyard. Yet, every time he spoke to Chen Ping'an, he deliberately chose to squat on the wall.

Compared to Chen Ping'an's common and unsophisticated name, the neighbor boy's was much more refined, named Song Jixin. Even the maid who depended on him had a scholarly name, Zhi Gui.

The young girl was standing by the courtyard wall at this moment. She had a pair of almond-shaped eyes and looked timid.

A voice sounded from the courtyard gate, "Are you selling this maid?"

Song Jixin paused, turned his head to follow the sound, and saw a young man in brocade clothes, standing outside the courtyard, with a completely unfamiliar face, a smile in his eyes.

Beside the young man in brocade clothes stood a tall old man with a fair complexion and a kind face, squinting slightly as he observed the young boy and girl in the neighboring courtyards.

The old man's gaze swept over Chen Ping'an without lingering, but it rested more on Song Jixin and the maid, his smile gradually deepening.

Song Jixin squinted and said, "Sell! Why wouldn't I sell!"

The young man smiled, "Then name your price."

The girl's eyes widened, her face full of disbelief, like a startled young deer.

Song Jixin rolled his eyes and held up one finger, shaking it. "Ten thousand taels of silver!"

The young man in brocade clothes' expression remained unchanged. He nodded, "Alright."

Seeing that the young man didn't seem to be joking, Song Jixin quickly changed his tune, "Ten thousand taels of gold!"

The young man in brocade clothes' lips curved up. "Just kidding."

Song Jixin's face darkened.

The young man in brocade clothes ignored Song Jixin and shifted his gaze to Chen Ping'an. "Thanks to you today, I was able to buy that carp. After buying it, I liked it more and more the more I looked at it, and I thought I must thank you in person, so I asked Grandpa Wu to bring me to find you overnight."

He threw a heavy embroidered pouch to Chen Ping'an, smiling brightly. "This is my thanks. We're even now."

Just as Chen Ping'an was about to speak, the young man in brocade clothes turned and left.

Chen Ping'an frowned.

During the day, he had inadvertently seen a middle-aged man walking down the street carrying a fish basket, having caught a golden carp about a palm's length. It was jumping vigorously in the bamboo basket. Chen Ping'an glanced at it and felt it was very auspicious, so he asked if he could buy it for ten copper coins. The middle-aged man had originally intended to treat himself to a meal, but seeing a profit, he raised the price, demanding thirty copper coins. Chen Ping'an, with his pockets empty, didn't have that much spare money, but he really couldn't bear to part with the golden carp. He followed the middle-aged man with longing eyes, trying to haggle the price down to fifteen coins, or even twenty. Just as the middle-aged man was showing signs of relenting, the young man in brocade clothes and the tall old man happened to pass by. Without a word, they bought the carp and the fish basket for fifty copper coins. Chen Ping'an could only watch them leave, helpless.

Staring intently at the receding backs of the pair, Song Jixin retracted his fierce gaze, jumped down from the wall, and as if remembering something, said to Chen Ping'an, "Do you still remember that four-legged creature from January?"

Chen Ping'an nodded.

How could he forget? It was still fresh in his memory.

According to the customs passed down for hundreds of years in this town, if a snake entered one's house, it was a good omen, and the owner should never drive it away or kill it. On the first day of the first lunar month, Song Jixin was sitting on the threshold basking in the sun. Then, a small creature, commonly known as a four-legged lizard, scurried into the house right before his eyes. Song Jixin grabbed it and threw it into the courtyard. He didn't expect that the four-legged lizard, already dizzy from the fall, would become more tenacious, repeatedly angering Song Jixin, who never believed in ghosts or gods. In a fit of rage, he threw it into Chen Ping'an's courtyard. Who would have thought that the next day, Song Jixin would find that four-legged lizard coiled up under his bed?

Song Jixin noticed the girl tugging at his sleeve.

The young man, as if telepathically connected, instinctively swallowed back the words that were about to leave his lips.

What he wanted to say was that the incredibly ugly four-legged lizard had a bulge on its forehead recently, as if it had horns growing on its head.

Song Jixin changed his words and said, "Zhi Gui and I might be leaving here next month."

Chen Ping'an sighed, "Be careful on your journey."

Song Jixin said, half-jokingly, half-seriously, "There are some things I definitely can't take with me. Don't you dare steal anything while my house is empty."

Chen Ping'an shook his head.

Song Jixin suddenly burst into laughter, pointed at Chen Ping'an with his finger, and said with a grin, "Scaredy-cat, no wonder poor families don't produce noble sons. Not only will you be bullied by everyone in this life, but you might not escape it in the next."

Chen Ping'an remained silent.

They each returned to their houses. Chen Ping'an closed the door and lay down on the hard wooden bed. The impoverished young man closed his eyes and murmured softly, "Sui Sui Ping, Sui Sui An, Sui Sui Ping An, Sui Sui Ping An..."