The next day, Li Jing really did teach Nezha to read and write.
Nezha sat at the desk, gripping a brush, his face smeared with ink.
Li Jing stood behind him, guiding his hand as he taught him to write the character for "person."
"One stroke left, one stroke right—standing tall between heaven and earth. That's 'person.'"
Nezha tilted his head at the character, then suddenly asked,
"Father, am I a person?"
Li Jing's hand froze.
"Those people say I'm a monster."
Nezha turned around, staring straight at Li Jing.
"Father, tell me. Am I a monster?"
Li Jing crouched down until they were eye to eye.
"You're my son, not a monster."
Nezha broke into a grin, ink still on his nose, and reached up to hug Li Jing around the neck. Li Jing stiffened for a moment, then slowly wrapped his arms around that small body.
He was warm and soft, carrying the scent of milk.
Nothing like the monster Li Jing had imagined.
Not even a little.
But the gossip did not fade. Instead, it spread more fiercely than ever.
When Nezha was six, a wandering Daoist Master came to Chentang Pass. He stopped Li Jing on the street, looked him over from head to toe, and said outright,
"General, there is demonic aura within your residence."
Li Jing's expression did not change.
"Daoist Master, you must be joking."
"This poor Daoist does not joke."
The Daoist Master pointed toward the General's Mansion and continued on his own.
"That monster is no ordinary thing. If it is not eliminated, it will surely become a calamity."
"There are only my wife and child in my residence. There are no monsters."
Li Jing's face darkened.
"My affairs are none of your concern, Daoist Master."
Li Jing went around him