Chapter 53

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Protagonist:

Shaowei

Liu Qi

Jiang Fu propped one elbow on the small table, propped her chin, a touch of shallow drunkenness in her eyes, and instead of answering asked back: "Lately when practicing martial arts, have you felt it very hard to make further rapid progress, and encountered many things difficult to comprehend?"

Shaowei's heart leapt; she almost suspected Jiang Fu could eavesdrop on her thoughts — just now while chopping firewood she had been pondering this very matter; could the sound of chopping have leaked her thoughts?

Seeing Shaowei tacitly admit it, Jiang Fu then continued: "Little brat, your master thinks it's time you learned to read and write."

Shaowei almost blurted out: "I know some characters, it's enough for use!"

Jiang Fu shook her head disapprovingly: "If you want to integrate and master thoroughly, it's far from enough."

Shaowei frowned slightly: "Aren't literary and martial two different things?"

"On the surface they are indeed two different things," Jiang Fu said: "If you were merely of ordinary aptitude, you naturally wouldn't need this extra effort. But your fundamentals are solid, your comprehension extremely high; in martial arts you have already entered the hall early. If you want to advance another step, you must open apertures and add wisdom through the literary path, only then will you have a chance to cultivate the truly consummate realm."

Jiang Fu coaxed patiently: "Even leaving aside the benefit to martial arts, reading and writing is itself a tremendously good thing; you must know some principles."

Shaowei originally thought she was saying she herself was unreasonable, but Jiang Fu's next sentence was: "Only when you yourself know these principles will you not be deceived and bullied by those people full of principles."

Shaowei couldn't understand for a moment; Jiang Fu explained to her: "Fists, feet, blades, swords striking the body cause pain and bleeding; they let you know you've been bullied. But many seemingly correct principles falling on you — you may not know you've been bullied; such ignorance, how pitiable?"

The difference between a person entering the world or not is extremely great.

Just like Shaowei: the clever aspects manifest as especially clever, but the uncomprehending places are completely impenetrable, unable to distinguish right from wrong; this latter situation is not that she suddenly became stupid, but that a barrier inherently exists between the two.

Reading is the most powerful shortcut to break through this barrier.

Jiang Fu's words left Shaowei stunned for a while; in her heart they stirred up a layer of old floating dust; the dust drifted, vast and bewildered.

A moment later, Shaowei didn't know what she thought of; unconsciously she pressed her lips straight, looked up and asked Jiang Fu: "Then what if I say, I don't like reading and writing?"

The Shaowei who had asked this sentence seemed to see before her again Feng Xu's pair of helpless, compromising eyes.

Shaowei had no time to see Jiang Fu's expression clearly; she only saw Jiang Fu stand up, heading outside the hall, saying to her as she went: "Come with me."

Passing under the eaves, Jiang Fu casually pulled a thin dry branch from the firewood pile, held it in hand, and walked into the courtyard.

A thin layer of snow lay on the ground, like silver silkworm silk interwoven and spread, a full view of crystalline brilliance.

Jiang Fu used the branch in hand, stroke by stroke cutting through this ground full of "silkworm silk", writing a line of large characters.

Shaowei paid close attention, reading each character silently in her heart: 【Shaowei is the world's number one...】

These seven characters were all ones Shaowei recognized, but the remaining two characters after them Shaowei faced in silent mutual unfamiliarity — truly strangers meeting by chance, never having known each other.

Shaowei looked horizontally and vertically but couldn't guess the slightest bit; though somewhat ashamed, she could only ask Jiang Fu: "... What are the last two characters written?"

Jiang Fu smiled faintly: "Wise one."

Shaowei naturally didn't believe it; moreover she recognized the character "zhe"; Jiang Fu was clearly lying, so she said with near certainty: "Lying; you're definitely insulting me!"

Jiang Fu looked aggrieved: "Without evidence, how can you wrongly accuse your master like this?"

Shaowei suppressed her anger: "Then tell me, what are they exactly?"

"Whatever I say you probably won't believe anyway." Jiang Fu sighed, pitifully: "Look; knowing too few characters means you'll be bullied and toyed with like this."

A wisp of anger just spilled from Shaowei's eyes when she heard Jiang Fu say: "If you dare throw a tantrum, people will still laugh at you for flying into a rage out of shame."

"..." Shaowei's back teeth nearly shattered from clenching.

Jiang Fu tossed the branch aside, dusted her hands, and said: "Others' words cannot be trusted; these characters are only most reliable when you yourself recognize them; you'd better firmly memorize them first; someday there will be an answer."

Seemingly speaking of characters, yet not only speaking of characters.

Shaowei looked at those two characters, gaze like a knife, stroke by stroke tracing and engraving them in her mind.

The branch Jiang Fu discarded pressed above those two characters, just like a stick skewering two carrots; Shaowei was hung by these two evil carrots, and from then on became the donkey running wildly behind them.

Shaowei recognized characters with desperate thirst, single-mindedly wanting to ferret out those two characters as soon as possible — truly vengeance-style learning.

Yet Jiang Fu had her own teaching curriculum; she only started from the simple; just when Shaowei began learning some hard-to-write characters, she turned to lecturing on classics and history, always making Shaowei brush past her nemesis.

And Shaowei, day after day, slowly managed to calm her heart.

She learned things very fast; curiosity and competitiveness equally vigorous; the books contained too many things she had never heard or seen; new things naturally attracted her greatly.

Moreover she possessed extraordinarily abundant energy; Jiang Fu sighed more than once: "This hairy donkey practically pulled sparks from the millstone; me, the one pouring grain into the mill eye, am so busy my feet don't touch the ground and I can't straighten my back."

Though this praise didn't sound pleasant, Shaowei found it very gratifying.

At the same time, effort brought visible gains; gains slowly piled into a sense of achievement; this achievement began to positively feed back into that inwardly deprived child, filling her, making her increasingly full and positive.

Another spring arrived; watching that girl who had shed thick clothes for a spring robe, visibly taller by a lot, waving a broom, sweeping the courtyard upside down like wind rolling away remnant clouds, Jiang Fu held a bowl of clear tea, leaning by the hall door, sighing with emotion: "Truly inexhaustible bull strength."

But it's good to have this kind of drive.

Jiang Fu had witnessed many struggles and read many history books; therefore she was especially clear: outliving fate is one of the world's top strategies; whoever outlasts the other wins thoroughly — such an open stratagem, sounds overly simple, but wins in being truly practical.

Shaowei, who single-mindedly wanted to live a little longer, now gripped the broom, stood at the courtyard gate, facing the dappled morning light; she saw peach-red willow-green everywhere, fragrant grass fresh and beautiful, fallen petals colorful in profusion; recalling the year-plus of experiences, she suddenly felt a few points of unreality as if she had mistakenly entered the Tai Xu Huan Jing.

Days were not entirely peaceful; occasionally there were some tiny ripples of trouble.

Jiang Fu rarely went out walking, yet still attracted a few covetous gazes; even with her husband-killing reputation spread outside, there were always people unable to suppress their inner itch — peaceful stable days are certainly healthy, but licking blood on a blade's edge is also fascinating and heart-palpitating.

Otherwise why would those storybooks of scholars meeting fox spirits and dying be sought after for decade after decade?

On this day, Shaowei had just risen and finished washing, picked up the broom intending to sweep, when she heard a knocking sound at the door.

Mo Li had drawn a bucket of well water and was diligently preparing to cook.

Shaowei then consciously went to open the door.

The door opened; a man's smiling face thrust into view; Shaowei held the door frame with both hands and did not immediately let him in.

That man craned his neck to peer into the courtyard, rubbing his hands, smiling: "... Is your A Jie home? Is it convenient to say a couple words to her?"

Shaowei now understood three parts of human nature; expressionlessly she refused: "She has no leisure."

Seeing how small she was yet speaking so stiffly, the man found it rather strange and gave a "Hey," about to say something more, when a hand from behind pressed on his shoulder and shoved him to the side.

Then another person walked out from behind and appeared in Shaowei's line of sight.

Behind one utterly ordinary face was another even more ordinary face.

Yet this person was exceptionally confident, probably because the fat on his body and his fine clothes gave him assurance; he raised an eyebrow, waved a long-handled bamboo fan, lowered his gaze to look down on Shaowei, and asked with a smile in a tone as good as catching her with a hand: "So, are you free now?"

"……I'm busier than ever now." Shaowei slammed the door shut with a "Bang," nearly hitting the man's nose.

Though these two were turned away, they were not ready to give up; one climbed over the wall at night, but had only gotten halfway, and when he grabbed the top of the wall to jump down, he suddenly felt something from below the courtyard wall push him up; looking down, he found himself facing a pair of huge cow eyes—

The green ox had its two front hooves on the wall, its head lunging up and butting him, directly flipping the man back.

The man returned home clutching his thigh that wouldn't stop bleeding, lying on the bed groaning in pain for a full half month.

The one in fine clothes refused to believe in evil and also came sneaking at night, but couldn't get anywhere near the courtyard wall at all, starting to go in circles just a hundred steps away.

After circling for a good half an hour, he found himself unable to advance or retreat, with no path open; the man realized in terror—he had run into a Ghost Wall!

And thick fog rose at night; he began to cry for help, but heard a voice speak before him:

"Rebel Son! Rebel Son!"

"You've disgraced our ancestors!"

The man was so terrified he collapsed on the ground, kowtowing and crying as he apologized: "Father, Mother, I know I was wrong! Stop teasing me!"

The voice scolding him was neither male nor female, clearly a hermaphrodite; it must be his father and mother combined to teach him a lesson!

Meeting a fox spirit, he might still dare a bit of deadly flirtation, but meeting his parents' ghosts inevitably made him break down and feel ashamed.

The man kowtowed until nearly dawn before being discovered by villagers out early to work.

Shaowei watched the man possessed like that being carried away, then took Zhan Zhan back.

Zhan Zhan kept blurting out "Rebel Son"—this was something it had just learned from an old man a few days ago; it put it into practice, especially liking to use it on the green ox that wouldn't speak.

Shaowei ran back to the small courtyard and asked Jiang Fu, who was leaning against the door of the hall: "Why exactly was he going in circles in place?"

Jiang Fu didn't spout nonsense this time; raising an eyebrow, he said: "I casually set up a concealment array; he was just trapped inside."

Shaowei widened her eyes slightly in surprise.

Jiang Fu asked with a smile: "The art of setting arrays is my sect's secret teaching; do you want to learn or not?"

The temptation of this question was so great that Shaowei could not even pretend to refuse.

Shaowei had a bit of instinctive possessiveness toward powerful things.

But she couldn't help asking: "Does learning this also help with detoxification?"

Jiang Fu had her sit still, take medicinal baths, practice martial arts, read books, and so on, all saying it was good for strengthening her body and calming her qi, and helpful for detoxification, and he always added an annoying sentence: 【The blood drawn this way would be sweeter and more medicinally valuable.】

In these days, Shaowei had learned some principles from reading and writing; she was quite good at Jiang Fu's "integrating and comprehending" way, so now she could vaguely discern that the things Jiang Fu coaxed and pressured her to learn all had real, lasting benefits for her—

Once she could discern, she could not righteously demand things from others; at this moment she looked seriously at Jiang Fu and asked: "Why are you willing to teach me everything?"

Jiang Fu's flowing eyes were slightly stunned instead; he quietly looked at Shaowei for a moment.

In the dim morning light, those black, bright eyes were especially clear and pure, and usually naive and vigilant, but now with this question, it was as if a stubborn stone had been peeled open a scale, revealing a corner of spiritual radiance.

This glance was thus imprinted in Jiang Fu's heart, and she actually didn't know for a moment whether this was good or bad.

She suppressed that bit of stunned silence, returned to normal, and smiled to answer Shaowei's question: "Didn't you say you wanted to be a knight-errant in the future? Learn more skills to protect yourself; later make a name for yourself, and also help your master gain some fame; then I can be considered to have a successor, and won't smash this master's robe and bowl in my hands, and can rest in peace even underground."

Shaowei really didn't like hearing this, but wasn't angry; she said somewhat sullenly: "After you cure your chronic illness in the future, you'll have plenty of time and can easily take in a hundred or eighty disciples to gain fame for you."

"But not everyone has your talent." Jiang Fu seemed to consider for a moment, then smiled and suggested: "Then you just learn well; later you first make a name for your master, and only then will a hundred or eighty disciples be willing to come to your door to become apprentices—by then you can be that Senior Sister who commands a hundred responses with a single call; isn't that impressive?"

As a living signboard of an "impressive Senior Sister," she suddenly felt the responsibility on her shoulders was a bit heavy.

At this moment, looking at the smiling Jiang Fu, Shaowei secretly decided she would never put poison in the blood again—her method of poisoning was to stay angry when Jiang Fu drew blood—she remembered Jiang Fu saying that when people are angry, their blood carries poison.

Actually, Shaowei had long been unable to "poison" anymore... long before making this decision.

After that, life in the small courtyard became even more fulfilling, and no one came to disturb them easily.

But some rumors inexplicably spread, saying that although Jiang Fu was a widow, she was a kept concubine hidden outside by some wealthy family; otherwise, with her lazy appearance, how could she support three people? Others said it with nose and eyes, claiming that wealthy family often sent things over.

This was just made up from imagination, but the latter half happened to be somewhat credible by accident; it was true that people often came to send things.

Shaowei always saw new things inexplicably appear in the house; those things were neither what Jiang Fu originally brought, nor what she and Mo Li bought back from the prefecture/county town—this phenomenon had a curious similarity to Jiang Fu's money bag.

And although Jiang Fu stayed behind closed doors, she always knew everything about outside news.

One day, Jiang Fu took out an ancient book that had appeared at some unknown time; facing Shaowei's doubtful gaze, she explained a sentence, her explanation was fairly sincere, at least she no longer used the "turning stone into gold" excuse to fool Shaowei: "……I am, after all, a Head of Household; although I'm outside avoiding disaster and seeking medicine, my days can't be too frugal; having a confidant servant occasionally send some things, isn't that normal?"

Shaowei: "Then why have I never seen this servant of yours?"

Jiang Fu, with a serious face: "The servant is naturally timid and doesn't easily let people see him."

Whether this "servant" was timid or not, Shaowei didn't know, but she was certain this person's lightness skill must be exceptional.

One midnight in April, Shaowei, whose kung fu was improving day by day and whose five senses were becoming increasingly clear, finally caught a whiff of a clue; she threw off the covers and got up, quickly coming to the window lattice, and just saw a grey shadow appear in the courtyard, holding a bundle in hand.

The grey shadow's awareness was also unusually sharp; he instantly discovered he had been discovered; their eyes met, and he was stunned for a moment; he hurriedly put down the bundle, turned and leaped up, silently flipping out of the courtyard.

Shaowei had already risen from the window and dove out, flying after him, wanting to see the true face of this timid servant.