SWORD COMES

Chapter One: The Waking of Insects

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

In the dusk, in a secluded place of the small town called Niping Lane, there was a thin and lonely young boy. At this time, following the custom, he was holding a candle in one hand and a peach branch in the other, shining on the beams, walls, wooden beds, etc., and knocking here and there with the peach branch, trying to drive away snakes, scorpions, centipedes, etc. He was murmuring the old saying passed down from generation to generation in this small town: On the second day of the second month, candles shine on the beams, peach branches hit the walls, and snakes and insects have nowhere to hide on earth.

The young boy's surname is Chen and his given name is Ping'an. His parents died long ago.

The porcelain of this small town is very famous. Since the founding of this dynasty, it has taken on the important task of "supervising and firing sacrificial vessels for the Xianling Mausoleum by imperial decree". There are imperial officials stationed here all year round to supervise the affairs of the official kilns. Chen Ping'an, who had no one to rely on, became a porcelain maker very early. At first, he could only do some miscellaneous and rough work. After following a bad-tempered half-way master for several hard years, he just began to figure out some ways of porcelain firing. But things changed unexpectedly. Suddenly, the small town lost the protective charm of the official kiln production. Dozens of kilns around the small town, shaped like crouching dragons, were all ordered by the government to be closed and extinguished overnight.

Chen Ping'an put down the newly broken peach branch, blew out the candle, walked outside the house, sat on the steps, looked up, and saw the bright starry sky.

He still remembers clearly to this day that the old master who only recognized him as half an apprentice was surnamed Yao. One early morning in the late autumn of last year, Old Man Yao was found sitting on a small bamboo chair, facing the direction of the kiln head, with his eyes closed. But people as stubborn as Old Man Yao were, after all, few.

The artisans of the small town, who had only known how to make porcelain for generations, neither dared to presumptuously produce porcelain for the imperial court as tribute, nor dared to sell the porcelain stored in the warehouse to the common people privately. So they had to seek other livelihoods one after another. Fourteen-year-old Chen Ping'an was also kicked out and, after returning to Niping Lane, continued to guard this already dilapidated old house. Facing the dismal scene of almost having nothing in the house, even if he wanted to be a wastrel, there was no way to start.

After being a drifting and wandering vagabond for some time, Chen Ping'an really couldn't find any way to make money. Relying on that meager savings, he could only manage to fill his stomach. A few days ago, he heard that in Qilong Lane a few streets away, an outsider blacksmith surnamed Ruan came and announced that he would take seven or eight apprentices for iron forging. There was no wage but food was provided. Chen Ping'an hurriedly went to try his luck. Unexpectedly, the middle-aged man just gave him a sidelong glance and shut the door on him. At that time, Chen Ping'an wondered, could it be that the job of iron forging didn't depend on the strength of one's arms but on one's appearance? You should know that although Chen Ping'an looked weak, his strength should not be underestimated. This was the physical foundation he had developed over the years of drawing blanks and firing porcelain. Besides, Chen Ping'an also followed the old man surnamed Yao and traveled all over the mountains and rivers within a hundred miles of the small town, tasted the flavors of all kinds of soil around, worked hard without complaint, and was willing to do any dirty or tiring job without any hesitation. It's a pity that Old Man Yao never liked Chen Ping'an, complaining that he had no perception and was a blockhead who couldn't get enlightened, far inferior to his eldest apprentice Liu Xianyang. This couldn't be blamed on the old man's partiality. The master leads you in the door, but the practice depends on the individual. Even for the same dull and boring process of drawing blanks, Liu Xianyang's skill in just half a year was equivalent to Chen Ping'an's hard work for three years.

Although he may not have used this skill in his life, Chen Ping'an still closed his eyes as before, imagined that there were bluestone slabs and wheels in front of him, and began to practice drawing blanks. Practice makes perfect.

About every quarter of an hour, he would rest for a while, shake his wrists, and repeat this cycle until he was completely exhausted before getting up and slowly stretching his muscles and bones while walking in the yard. No one has ever taught Chen Ping'an these, which is the way he has come up by himself.

Heaven and earth were originally silent, but Chen Ping'an heard a harsh sarcasm and laughter. He stopped. Sure enough, he saw the peer squatting on the wall, grinning, and did not hide his contempt.

This person is Chen Ping'an's old neighbor, and it is said that he is the illegitimate son of the former superintendent. The adult was afraid of clear criticism and impeachment of officials. Finally, he returned to the capital alone to debrief his duties and handed over the child to the official with a lot of personal friendship to help take care of him. Now the town inexplicably lost the qualification of the official kiln firing, and the supervisor who is responsible for supervising the kiln affairs for the imperial court. It is difficult for the mud bodhisattva to cross the river. He can't take care about the illegitimate children of his colleagues in the officialdom, so he left some silver money and rushed to the capital to have some relationship.

Unconsciously, he has become a neighbor who has abandoned children, but he still lives a leisurely life. He takes his maidservant to the inside and outside of the town all day long. He is idle all year round, but he has never worried about silver.

The yellow earth courtyard walls of every family in Muiping Lane are very low. In fact, the neighbor teenager can see the scene of the yard here without tiptoe at all. But every time he talks to Chen Ping'an, he prefers to squat on the wall.

Compared with the vulgarity of Chen Ping'an's name, the neighbor's teenager is much more elegant, called Song Jishou, and even the maidservant who depends on him has a literary name - Zhigui.

Zhigui was standing on the other side of the courtyard wall at this time. She had a pair of apricot eyes, timid and weak.

On the other side of the courtyard door, a voice sounded: "Do you sell this maidservant?"

Song Jiqian was stunned and turned his head to look at the voice. He was a young man in brocade with smiling eyebrows, standing outside the yard with a completely strange face. Next to the young man in brocade stood a tall old man with a white face and a kind face. He gently squinted at the two young girls in the adjacent courtyard. The old man's eyes swept over Chen Ping'an and there was no stagnation, but on Song Jiqi and his maidservant Zhigui, there was a lot of stay, and the smile gradually became strong.

Song Jiyan glanced and said, "Sell it! Why don't you sell it!"

The young man in brocade smiled and said, "Then tell me the price."

Zhigui's eyes were big, and his face was full of strangeness, like a panicked young elk.

Song Ji turned his eyes, stretched out a finger, and shook: "10,000 taels of silver!"

The young man in brocade looked as usual and nodded, "Okay."