A White Fox Listens to the Dao

Chapter 27: A White Fox Listens to the Dao

A speck of light sat halfway up the mountain. It was the Blue Stone.

A speck of light lay on the road connecting Lower Yan Village to Meng City. It was the Galloping Horse Stone.

A speck of light shone in the Ancestral Hall. It was the statue of the Yan ancestors.

A speck of light glimmered in Zi Bofeng's study. It was probably the abacus on which Zi Bofeng had used the Monster Raising Art.

The four specks of light varied in brightness and size, but they were undeniably glowing. The deathly aura around them had grown faint, especially near the Blue Stone, where it had been almost entirely dispelled.

Of the four specks, only the Blue Stone had truly become a monster. The others had merely received Zi Bofeng's spiritual energy. But this was, after all, the spiritual energy of the Monster Raising Art, with its own unique qualities, utterly different from other spiritual energy.

With these four specks of light shining out, the deathly aura over all of Lower Yan Village seemed to have been driven away, replaced by a surge of vitality. Looking down from above, he could see that there were far more green plants around the village than before.

The turn from spring to summer was when all things began to stir. Once the deathly aura was dispelled, living creatures immediately began to multiply.

Besides the four specks of light, there were also moving black dots. Some were faint and hard to make out; others were dark, thick strokes.

Many of the black dots were clustered in the Private School.

Were these... people?

Four dots were exceptionally dark. One was at Zi Bofeng's house—his father. One was nearby, across the way—Yan Wu Shi. One was in the Private School—Little Stone. And one was moving away from the school. To his surprise, it was Yan Lao Wu!

Zi Bofeng's heart stirred, and he immediately understood. These must represent trust or closeness toward him. His father and the others trusted him completely, but even Yan Lao Wu trusted him this much?

There was another black dot, only a little fainter than those four. Judging by its position, it was Si Gou.

That fellow really had been scared straight by Zi Bofeng. He had been subdued.

Looking closely, Zi Bofeng realized he could even see what these people were doing. His father was sawing wood, Yan Wu Shi was cooking, Si Gou was sleeping in, Yan Lao Wu was striding briskly along, and Little Stone... was making a face at him.

He tried to keep watching, but suddenly his head spun. Zi Bofeng stumbled and hurriedly grabbed the doorframe. Only then did he realize his spiritual energy had been completely drained. He hadn't had a chance to replenish it since getting up that morning.

After a moment's thought, Zi Bofeng understood why.

As the saying went, appearance sprang from the heart. In someone else's hands, this porcelain shard might have become the fabled Heavenly Vision and Earthly Hearing Technique, or perhaps a bronze mirror that showed all things under heaven, or even a painting that depicted the teeming masses. But to Zi Bofeng, none of those were as clear as the bird's-eye satellite map from the games he'd played in his previous life: high above, with all things laid bare.

But transforming the teeming masses into images one could see wasn't without cost. It consumed spiritual energy—Zi Bofeng's spiritual energy.

This was another benefit the porcelain shard had brought him. For now, it seemed to have some connection to the Monster Raising Art, though he had no idea what that connection was.

Zi Bofeng was intensely curious by nature. He had just stumbled upon a new toy, and not figuring it out would drive him crazy. But there was still a whole crowd of brats behind him waiting for him to teach them. What was he supposed to do?

Zi Bofeng's eyes rolled, and he came up with a plan. He returned to the Private School and said, "Today..."

Their comprehension had also improved. This was already a feng shui treasure of a place for Zi Bofeng to study. Now that more people had come, it seemed not only had they not hindered Uncle Blue Rock from absorbing spiritual energy, he actually seemed even more delighted. It was as though more people thinking and talking gave him more spiritual nourishment. What surprised Zi Bofeng even more was that he realized he had unconsciously begun using the Monster Raising Art while teaching.

In the past, the Monster Raising Art could only be used by writing with a brush, and it could target only one person. But now, things had changed. He could actually "preach the Dao."

Had the Monster Raising Art already advanced to...?

Away from the Private School, he gathered them in one place and taught them how to read and write.

Learning away from the Private School took some pressure off the children, and the results were quite good. Of course, they didn't know this was thanks to the Blue Stone's miraculous effect. Even Little Stone managed to sit still. Though he tried to sneak away several times, Xiao Tuozi reported him, and Zi Bofeng caught him and brought him back.

There was no way the little rascal could slip away under these circumstances. Perhaps he thought Zi Bofeng was too busy teaching so many people to pay attention to him, and was deliberately acting out to draw his attention. Zi Bofeng understood Little Stone's psychology rather well, so he deliberately praised him for learning well and quickly. Little Stone's interest immediately shifted to his lessons.

Thinking of how he used to do nothing but scold Little Stone, never knowing how to guide him according to his strengths, Zi Bofeng realized he had made Little Stone afraid of him and filled him with resistance to learning. Now, when Little Stone studied, his eyes sparkled as he stared intently at Zi Bofeng. Zi Bofeng never begrudged him an appropriate reward. To Zi Bofeng, Little Stone was like a younger brother. "Treating everyone equally" was all well and good, but if he didn't treat his own little brother well, who would he treat well?

Zi Bofeng didn't care whether Little Stone passed the imperial examinations. He only hoped the boy would learn more.

When the morning was over and Zi Bofeng announced that class was dismissed, the others still seemed reluctant to leave, as though they hadn't had their fill.

The village Private School held classes only for half a day. The children had to spend the rest of the day helping their families with chores.

"Teacher, are we having class here again tomorrow?" asked Yan Xiaoliu, Yan Lao Wu's little grandson. After just one day, he was thoroughly convinced and had even grown fond of the feeling of being in class.