Lucky Coin

The role of gold coins

The morning sunlight streamed in through the window. La Pei suddenly sat up, glancing around. He didn’t see the ghost; everything felt like a dream. However, the coin clenched in his hand told him this was no dream.

La Pei got out of bed and walked around his cramped room in his slippers. His footsteps were peculiar; one foot was always in front while the other remained behind, and his toes never left the ground, primarily gliding as he moved.

This was the footwork of a swordsman. Not only was his step strange, but his breathing was also unusual—long and slow, with a warm current flowing through his body.

Different swordsmanship schools had various breathing methods. This was akin to a magician's meditation, where meditation increased magical power, while a swordsman's breathing technique enhanced specific abilities. The breathing method La Pei chose improved his speed and reaction time, and although it also enhanced his strength, endurance, and flexibility, the effects were less pronounced.

La Pei opened his palm and took another look at the coin. Its abilities exceeded his imagination; while it couldn’t instantly make him powerful, it could turn certain things into subconscious instincts. Normally, maintaining such a special breathing method as La Pei was now doing would take at least ten years of practice.

Feeling inspired, La Pei grabbed a poker from beside the fireplace and suddenly thrust it forward. With a soft sound, the poker accurately pierced the window frame.

The window frame of La Pei's house was just a thin piece of wood, and he stood about two feet away from it, making a direct hit quite difficult.

Yet, in just one night, La Pei's sword technique felt as if he had trained for over a decade. His strikes flowed instinctively. This was also related to La Pei's choice—he had selected the technique of “thrusting.”

Abandoning other variations, La Pei’s swordsmanship focused solely on thrusts—direct thrusts, diagonal thrusts, sudden thrusts, successive thrusts, forehand thrusts, backhand thrusts, side thrusts, and reverse thrusts…

In one night, La Pei learned all the techniques of thrusting. But that was not enough—far from it.

Just now, when La Pei tried to thrust, he immediately noticed that the feeling was completely different from that in his dream. His strength, speed, flexibility, and control were all lacking. To reach the level he had experienced in his dream, there were no shortcuts—only practice, endless practice.

La Pei glanced again at the lucky coin in his hand, feeling a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite articulate. He had always been unwilling to settle for mediocrity but had never had the opportunity. Now he finally had a chance, but he also bore a heavy burden. Not to mention the fates of the coin's previous owners, such as the king’s envoy who had been pierced through the throat by a sword and died instantly—that was already the most merciful death. The saintess he admired had been burned alive, and that wasn’t even the most painful way to die; several previous owners of the lucky coin had suffered through torture, and just witnessing that made him shudder.

Suddenly, La Pei opened the window and, with a forceful motion, threw the lucky coin far away.

At the moment the coin left his hand, La Pei felt a heart-wrenching pain, and he almost clenched his fist, but fortunately, he held back. After watching the coin disappear over the rooftop across the way, he let out a sigh of relief.

At that moment, La Pei heard footsteps outside the door; his mother was approaching his room.

He quickly put down the poker and returned to the bed, gathering up the stolen goods he had stuffed under his pillow. He couldn’t let his mother see them, as he wouldn’t be able to explain their origins.

The door opened, and his mother walked in. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much better; I haven’t had any nightmares since then,” La Pei replied casually.

His mother glanced at the small pot on the nightstand, which hadn’t moved at all. “Just to be safe, drink the ginger soup before you leave.”

“I will,” La Pei said. He understood his mother meant well and also wanted to avoid waste; in their household, wasting anything was absolutely forbidden.

“After you drink it, come down for breakfast. I’ve already prepared it,” his mother urged.

“Just let me change into something else, and I’ll be right down,” La Pei quickly replied. It was only after saying this that he realized he was still wearing that frilly lace shirt.

In the past, it would have been his favorite piece of clothing, but now he found it unappealing.

La Pei changed into a coarse linen shirt, layered a thick vest over it, and then put on the postal uniform before heading downstairs. The others were already seated at the dining table, where there was toasted bread and fried eggs on their plates. To his surprise, he and his father also had a glass of milk, which was definitely not a regular treat.

“Are you feeling better? If you're not well, I can help you take a day off,” his father asked with concern.

“No need,” La Pei quickly shook his head. Taking a day off would mean losing a day's pay and missing out on the attendance bonus. Although it wasn’t much, for a family like theirs, it meant a more plentiful meal on the table.

“The director probably won't come to work today; he was frightened yesterday,” his father said with a smile.

La Pei knew his father still wanted to persuade him to rest for the day. “It’s really fine; I slept well last night.” His father glanced at him and stopped insisting

After finishing breakfast, the father and son stepped out of the house. They worked at the same post office, which was about a half-hour walk from La Pei's home.

As they walked, La Pei's expression suddenly changed. He spotted a coin lying on the roadside, engraved with a rose pattern.

Pretending not to notice, he walked right past it, glancing around. What surprised him was that the other passersby seemed oblivious to the coin lying there.

When they reached the intersection and turned left, La Pei’s face turned pale. There it was again—the lucky coin—still lying a few feet ahead. He quickly turned his head to check, but the coin was no longer visible in the spot they had just passed.

“Persistent as a ghost,” La Pei muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?” his father didn’t catch his words.

“Nothing, just stepped in some dog crap,” La Pei replied angrily.

La Pei had originally thought that after benefiting from the coin, he could just toss away the misfortune it would bring. Now it seemed he had been far too optimistic. If so many legendary figures couldn’t escape their final doom, how could someone as insignificant as him hope to? His father murmured in understanding and kept walking.

Resigned, La Pei bent down, picked up the coin, and slipped it into his pocket.