Legacy of the Blade

Chapter 3: Chap 3



Liu Yangjian, a local like Chen Ping'an, dismissed the name Daxue Shi Fang as nonsense, mocking, "We've been calling it the Banyard Pillar for centuries. Who cares about some ridiculous title like Daxue Shi Fang?" He even teased Tong Jixin, asking, "So, how big is this 'Grand Academician's' official hat? Is it larger than the well's opening?" This left Tong Jixin red-faced with frustration.

At this moment, Chen Ping'an strolled around the twelve-legged pillar, inspecting each side. Each surface bore four large, ancient-looking characters: "Let no one shirk their duty," "Be natural in your words," "Do not seek outside yourself," and "Courage as mighty as an ox." According to Tong Jixin, these were the original inscriptions, though three other stone plaques had been defaced over time. Chen Ping'an, clueless about their deeper meaning, never pondered further. After all, he didn't even know what the Local County Chronicles Tong Jixin often mentioned actually were.

Beyond the pillar, a massive locust tree loomed with sprawling branches. Beneath it lay a makeshift bench—a thick tree trunk flattened at both ends and propped up by two stones. In summer, villagers often gathered there to cool off, and wealthier families would pull up chilled melons and fruits from their wells to share. The children, bellies full, would form little groups and play games in the shade.

Chen Ping'an, used to walking long distances, soon reached the yellowed gate standing alone near the outer fence. Despite his brisk pace, he was calm and steady, showing no signs of exhaustion.

The small town rarely saw outsiders, and with the kilns now officially closed by imperial decree, one would expect even fewer visitors. Yet to his surprise, a group of seven or eight strangers, a mix of men, women, and children, was waiting at the eastern gate.

Chen Ping'an observed them through the wooden fence. They appeared to be travelers from different groups, not one unified party. Most looked at him indifferently, though a few glanced past him as if assessing the distant town.

One man stood out: a tall, slim youth with an unusual high hat and a jade pendant at his waist. Seemingly impatient, he stepped forward as if to push the unlatched gate. But just before his hand touched the wooden barrier, he hesitated, withdrawing his hand and clasping it behind his back. He turned to Chen Ping'an, offering only a faint, enigmatic smile.

From the corners of his eyes, Chen Ping'an noticed subtle reactions among the other strangers. Some appeared disappointed, others amused, and a few seemed contemplative or even mocking.

At that moment, a disheveled middle-aged man stormed out, yelling at Chen Ping'an, "You little brat, do you only have money on your mind? Up at the crack of dawn to nag me like a ghost haunting my house—are you rushing to meet your dead parents or what?!"

Chen Ping'an rolled his eyes, unfazed by the man's sharp tongue. Insults were common in rural life, and only a fool would take them to heart. This man, often the subject of town gossip and mockery, was particularly colorful. He liked to boast, often claiming things like, "Back in my day, I single-handedly fought off six bandits at this very gate, leaving them sprawled in pools of blood!" His exaggerated tales only added to the ridicule he endured.

The man opened the gate, grudgingly accepting small pouches of coins from each group of outsiders. After pocketing the money, he waved them in one by one.

The travelers entered, splitting into five distinct groups. Among them was the tall youth with the jade pendant, a noble-looking woman leading a boy in a red cloak, and a girl with rosy cheeks who resembled a porcelain doll.

The boy, shorter than Chen Ping'an, passed close by and silently mouthed something, his expression taunting. Though no sound escaped his lips, his intent was clear.

The noblewoman gave a small cough, and the boy reluctantly reined in his behavior.

Behind them, the little girl, holding hands with an elderly man with silver hair, spoke animatedly. Though Chen Ping'an couldn't understand her words, her gestures suggested she was tattling about the boy's antics.

The elderly man glanced briefly at Chen Ping'an.

That fleeting look made Chen Ping'an instinctively take a step back, like a mouse retreating from a cat.

Witnessing this reaction, the lively little girl abruptly stopped talking. She didn't look at Chen Ping'an again, as if sparing him further attention would sully her own dignity.


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