Chen Changsheng was originally scheduled to finish by the end of the si hour each day, but lately the teahouse had been bustling with business. Most patrons wanted to hear more, so Chen Changsheng often stayed until around noon.
This wasn’t too troubleso. Manager Zhuang even raised his monthly pay, which was good news.
After all, the teahouse’s daily earnings had doubled, making Manager Zhuang grin widely. Clerk Cao also benefited, with a big raise in his monthly pay—all thanks to Mr. Chen.
After the busy morning, Chen Changsheng would stop at the noodle shop outside the teahouse for a bowl of noodles. On days he didn’t feel like noodles, he’d grab two buns instead.
After eating, he’d return and teach Ruyi and Ping’an to recognize characters and read.
To be fair, when it ca to studying, Ruyi worked hard and never slacked off. Ping’an, however, was less diligent but far better at morizing.
Sotis Ruyi felt very sad. “Uncle Chen, am I really that dumb?”
Hearing this, Chen Changsheng asked, “Why do you think you’re dumb?”
“Ping’an rembers things after just one glance, but it takes so long, and I often forget. He seems to know everything without even trying, but I have to struggle so hard.”
Ruyi lowered her head. At her young age, her eyes reddened with unshed tears. This might have been the first ti she’d ever felt truly discouraged.
Chen Changsheng patted her head and sighed softly.
It was undeniable—people were born with natural gifts for certain things. Such differences could overwhelm many.
“Do you feel Ping’an is better than you?” Chen Changsheng asked.
Ruyi nodded.
At least when it ca to reading and recognizing characters, that was true.
Chen Changsheng shook his head. “Just like books have different contents, people are all different too. Take you and Ping’an. His mory may be stronger than yours—he can rember many things after just one glance. But he struggles to persevere the way you do. Rember the poem I taught you the other day?”
“Which one?”
Chen Changsheng recited a line: “The edge of a sword is honed by sharpening…”
Ruyi sniffled and continued, “The fragrance of plum blossoms cos from bitter cold.”
“Exactly.”
Chen Changsheng patted her head with a smile. “Books ntion natural talent and effortless grace. But that’s okay. Books also say, ‘Heavenly Dao chou qin’ (heaven rewards hard work), and ‘Xue lixing sheng’ (perseverance nurtures accomplishnt).”
Ruyi blinked. “Uncle Chen, what does ‘Heavenly Dao chou qin’ an?”
“It ans what you’re doing right now.”
“Ruyi doesn’t understand…”
“That’s alright. You don’t need to understand yet. Just hold it in your heart.”
Word by word, the redness gradually faded from Ruyi’s eyes.
Ping’an listened as Uncle Chen spoke to his sister. Then he looked down at the characters written on the ground before him.
Truthfully, he wasn’t very interested in learning to read.
So he didn’t understand why his sister was upset.
After Ruyi returned, Ping’an went to find Chen Changsheng alone.
“Uncle Chen, Ping’an wants to learn sothing else.”
Chen Changsheng was surprised by this.
“What does Ping’an want to learn?” he asked.
Ping’an said, “I want to learn sword dancing.”
He paused, then added, “I saw it on the wall-top. My mother said I should learn skills from you, Uncle. But I don’t want to study characters. I want to grow up quickly like you, so I can protect my mother.”
Chen Changsheng realized Ping’an was more “mature” than he’d thought—not physically, but in his mind. His understanding of things seed far beyond that of a three-year-old child.
Chen Changsheng looked at him. “There are many ways to protect your mother. Why choose the sword?”
Ping’an simply shook his head. “It just seems very powerful.”
It wasn’t that Chen Changsheng didn’t want to teach him.
But Ping’an was far too young. His bones and muscles were still developing. Practicing swordsmanship or martial arts too soon could badly stunt his growth.
“I can teach you,” said Chen Changsheng. “But you must agree to one thing first.”
Hearing this, Ping’an quickly said, “Uncle Chen, don’t go back on your word!”
“I won’t.”
Chen Changsheng picked up a book beside him. “This book has over fifteen hundred characters. I want you to write every character in it flawlessly—no mistakes allowed. You only get one chance per day. When you succeed, I’ll teach you.”
Ping’an thought this sounded easy.
“Uncle Chen, Ping’an…”
“Don’t worry,” Chen Changsheng said with a reassuring look.
He drew another book from his sleeve. It looked identical to the first, but every page inside was blank.
“Write in this one.”
He then handed Ping’an a fine brush. “Use this. No ink is needed.”
“Really?” Ping’an sounded unsure.
“Of course.”
Ping’an imdiately ran to a corner, sat down, and began copying characters from the original book onto the blank pages.
The brush, though inkless, left clear, dark characters on the pages. Ping’an didn’t find this strange—likely because he was too young to understand how unusual it was.
Ruyi watched with envy as Ping’an worked with his paper and brush, but she didn’t say anything, keeping her feelings inside.
Chen Changsheng, of course, had prepared a set for her too. He handed her a blank book as well.
Ruyi hesitated at first, but Chen Changsheng insisted. So she took it and studied even harder.
anwhile, Ping’an suddenly froze.
“Oh no! I made a mistake!” he gasped.
As he spoke, the characters he had just written slowly began to fade… until the page was completely blank again.
“They… they vanished!”
Ping’an’s eyes widened in disbelief.
He tried to write again, but now the brush left no trace on the paper.
One chance per day. If you ssed up, you got no second try.
Ruyi was just as stunned. She understood much more than Ping’an.
She turned to look at Uncle Chen, sipping tea serenely in the courtyard, ready to ask a question.
But Chen Changsheng simply smiled at them both. “You cannot tell anyone about this. Only the three of us will know. Otherwise, I’ll have to take the books and brushes back.”
Ping’an and Ruyi exchanged a glance and silently nodded, committing the warning to heart.
When Wang Sanniang ca to pick them up, neither child breathed a word.
It was only as they were leaving that Ruyi leaned close to Chen Changsheng and whispered,
“Uncle Chen… are you an immortal?”
Chen Changsheng chuckled softly. “No, Ruyi. I’m a little goblin. If you don’t leave soon, I might gobble you up.”
Ruyi humd twice, confidently retorting, “Uncle Chen is just scaring ! Ruyi won’t fall for this trick!”
Chen Changsheng laughed heartily and sent her off with Wang Sanniang.
Slowly, peace returned to the courtyard.
Chen Changsheng sat back in his bamboo chair, gently rocking it.
These days, he felt almost like an ordinary person.
Perhaps this was what life in the mortal world was ant to be—eting people and doing small things.
He breathed a soft sigh of contentnt and murmured to himself, “This… is nice.”
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