Chapter 8 (Bug Fixes)

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Wang Chan looked over and saw an old woman approaching.

It was a chilly early autumn morning; the elderly lady wore a thin cotton jacket. Her cheeks, lacking flesh, appeared somewhat sunken.

At that moment, she carried a wooden basin at her waist, filled with clusters of longan fruit.

The longans were freshly picked today, with brown branches and green leaves still glistening with dew. The yellow-skinned fruits clustered densely, filling the basin to the brim, looking clear and inviting.

"It's Aunt Cui," Zhuo Fenglian hurried over to greet her. "What wind blew you here today?"

As soon as she spoke, she paused, instinctively feeling that her words might have been inappropriate.

It would have been fine with others, but Aunt Cui’s temper—

Sure enough.

"Oh—" Aunt Cui’s eyebrows drooped, her tone dragging as she squinted at them. Though she made no other movements, even the tips of her hair betrayed her usual habit of being picky and critical.

"Look at what Fenglian said—‘No wind, and you shouldn’t come?’” The old woman sneered sarcastically. "You make it sound like I have nothing better to do than bother you!"

Zhuo Fenglian: …

She forced a smile.

"Auntie, you’re overthinking it. I just spoke too quickly—"

Wang Chan watched as, with just a few words, even her sharp-tongued cousin retreated. Instantly, she had a preliminary understanding of the new old woman’s character.

So, when the old lady asked about the injury on her head, Wang Chan nodded and then smiled softly after a moment’s thought, looking particularly well-behaved with her slender frame.

"How careless!" The old lady snapped, spitting fiercely to the side. "That scholar boy, not protecting such a fine girl! Either she crawled out of his own belly, or he just doesn’t care! So heartless!"

Then her sharp old eyes fell on the wound on Wang Chan’s head.

"Wait—"

She turned her fire toward Zhuo Congyun. "Brother Zhuo, this isn’t right. The girl’s own father is cruel, and you, as her uncle, how can you be so heartless? You just treated her yesterday, and today you won’t change the dressing? Are you really that stingy with your copper coins?"

Everyone looked at Wang Chan.

She touched her head, realizing she hadn’t applied medicine or bandaged the wound, causing her uncle to be misunderstood.

Just as she was about to speak, Zhuo Fenglian pulled her along, pushing her toward the house.

"Auntie, what nonsense are you talking about? Don’t jump to conclusions. We’re about to change Ah Chan’s dressing now. The sunlight is good for inspecting the wound!"

Zhuo Fenglian gave Wang Chan a meaningful glance.

Wang Chan blinked and suddenly understood.

Right, just now when her uncle spoke, despite the house seeming poor, the courtyard was full of millstones and stone tablets.

But their family had hidden talents.

The treasured legacy passed down from ancestors, two generations, one even a celestial secret.

She understood. She understood.

Meat must be buried under the rice when eating; no showing off wealth!

Wang Chan moved deftly; with a swift hand, no one knew how she did it, but in an instant, the two small stone carvings on the stone table were in her hands.

She covered them with wide sleeves so no one could see.

"Little Cui, you don’t know, Boy Yuan’s daughter has a celestial fate like my grandfather. She can nurture stones, hahaha!" Zhuo Congyun proudly declared.

"They say people nurture stones, stones nurture people. Ah Chan’s wound is already healing today—"

"Applying medicine and bandaging?" He waved his hand. "It’s not me being stingy as her uncle; it’s just not necessary!"

Zhuo Fenglian could hardly believe it.

Did her father really say that?

"Dad!" A surge of anger shot from her feet to the top of her head in a flash.

This time, Zhuo Fenglian shook her hand in frustration, stamping her foot hard before dissipating the gloomy energy, nearly fainting from it.

Wang Chan looked left, then right.

She was closer to her cousin, so she also stamped her foot and glared with wide eyes at Zhuo Congyun.

"Uncle!"

Yes, how could he be so unreasonable?

Disapproval filled Wang Chan’s eyes.

Zhuo Congyun was caught between laughter and tears.

He waved his hand. "There’s nothing to hide. Yan Zhi Town and its neighboring areas, all the elderly know our Zhuo family once had experts. Nurturing stones to dispel evil, ward off disasters... even finding veins and acupuncture points is our specialty."

"A stone nurturer? Does that really exist?" The old lady suddenly widened her eyes and took a few steps forward to look at the back of Wang Chan’s head.

Sure enough, it was much better.

For a moment, she was dazed, amazed, and a little dizzy.

Living so long, she had indeed seen many strange things.

"There’s no need to hide this. When I was a child, I heard your great-grandfather say that the best place to cultivate is the mundane world, and the best method is to refine the heart amidst worldly affairs. Nurturing stones is the same."

Zhuo Congyun spoke earnestly. "I can’t teach you much, but remember one thing: accumulate virtue and do good deeds. Only then can the path of cultivation be long and broad. Hiding it away is just being miserly."

"I understand, Uncle," Wang Chan nodded solemnly.

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...

"Mother—" A woman’s voice called from outside the shop.

"Aunt Ping is calling me," Aunt Cui quickly put down the wooden basin and explained the purpose of her visit today.

"Nothing much, just came to check on the girl."

She glanced at Wang Chan and added,

"After hearing about Ah Chan yesterday, my Aunt Ping has been worried too. Early this morning, she asked me to bring some longans and two jars of pure dew, saying she wants to use them to brew medicine for Ah Chan."

The so-called pure dew was autumn dew.

In Yan Zhi Town, longans were eaten around the White Dew festival, said to be highly nourishing.

"A Ping came too?" Zhuo Fenglian was surprised and pleased. "Why didn’t she come in? I haven’t seen her for a few days."

"Why come in?" Aunt Cui spat out a mouthful of disdain.

She glanced around irritably, "There’s nothing here but a bunch of stones!"

"You know Aunt Ping’s eyes aren’t good. If she bumps into something, it’s sure to cause bleeding," she sighed, worry creasing her aged face.

The atmosphere instantly grew heavy.

Wang Chan looked at Zhuo Fenglian. "Cousin, what’s wrong with Aunt Ping’s eyes?"

"It’s not Aunt Ping," hearing Wang Chan call her Aunt Ping, Zhuo Fenglian laughed bitterly, the gloom lifting slightly.

She patiently explained,

"Aunt Ping and Cousin are of the same generation, so I can call her Aunt Ping, but Ah Chan can’t. According to rank, you have to call her ‘Aunt’."

"I understand," Wang Chan replied.

"You and Uncle stay here; I’ll help Aunt Ping inside."

With that, Zhuo Fenglian hurriedly walked toward the front shop.

Soon, voices came again, voices arriving before the people.

"Already at my door and not coming in? What would people say!"

"I can’t help it, my eyes aren’t good."

"Why didn’t you call me? You’re so distant with me!"

"…"

Wang Chan looked over.

Zhuo Fenglian extended her arm, letting the woman beside her hold it. At the steps, she hastily warned her to be careful.

Nearby, the old lady was agile despite her age, carrying a shoulder pole with two large ceramic jars swinging at the ends.

"Yesterday was White Dew, the dew condensed and turned white. I heard before that day’s dew is the best of the year! So I gathered several jars."

"A Lan, when you brew medicine for Little Chan, don’t use well water; use this dew. The wound will heal faster."

The woman had delicate eyebrows, pale and calm, with autumn-water-like eyes. When she turned slightly to speak with Zhuo Fenglian, her gaze was unfocused but still sparkling.

A beauty.

Her voice was gentle—a tender, radiant beauty.

"This is Aunt Ping? She’s so beautiful," Wang Chan stared in awe, feeling shy to call her ‘Aunt’.

It wasn’t a myth that Yan Zhi Town produced beauties; Liu Xiaoping was a standout of Zhuo Fenglian’s generation.

Slender as a willow, her beautiful autumn-water eyes carried a faint smile even without speaking. She had been beautiful since childhood, hence the character for ‘smile’ in her given name.

"That’s wonderful. Yesterday, I wanted to gather some dew too, so I went to the river early before dawn. The moisture there is richer, making it easier to collect. I even washed some clothes while I was at it. Oh, Ping, you know those in the Wu family struck by plague? They scared me to death!"

The sky was dim but brightening; mist hovered over the river, and the black canopy boats looked like ghost ships, especially with a big red lantern hanging in front.

Zhuo Fenglian was terrified. One of her eldest son’s fine clothes, a new garment prepared for his studies, had been lost after only two dips in the water.

It lay flat on the surface like a person, twisting eerily before vanishing.

Just as the shock subsided, she saw people carrying a coffin ashore like ghosts from the underworld.

Zhuo Fenglian: …

"If it weren’t for that lost garment, I wouldn’t have dared to follow after!" she said, venting her frustration.

Liu Xiaoping smiled, her eyes crescent-shaped. "Sister A Lan is still so spirited."

Meanwhile, Wang Chan was curious about those eyes.

Could she really not see?

They looked perfectly normal—black pupils and white scleras, indeed large. Because they couldn’t focus, they seemed somewhat blank but only made her appear gentler, not like a congenital defect or an injury.

Unconsciously, Wang Chan fell deep in thought.

The creamy-white stone heart slipped into her pocket, but in her palm she still held a small stone statue of a Xiezhi.

The Xiezhi’s pointed horn slightly pressed against her palm. Ahead, Zhuo Fenglian led Liu Xiaoping into the courtyard, chatting warmly. The yard was scattered with stones of various sizes, autumn sunshine pouring down, casting shadows from the eaves.

Suddenly, Wang Chan’s world changed.

It was a subtle sensation, as if the original world and the realm within the stones had a boundary—like a door, yet seeming empty. Those without talent could not see it; those with some ability saw it like a mirage in the desert—close yet far away.

Now, Wang Chan stood at this boundary, and once she crossed, nothing could stop her.

She looked around.

Light and shadow intertwined; everything merged into an aura, like rising, delicate mist or threads of starlight and moonbeams... they tangled seemingly chaotic yet followed their own order.

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Wang Chan knew this was the world inside the stone.

Its colors varied, thickness uneven, because the courtyard contained different kinds of stones.

See, she did have talent.

Before Wang Chan could rejoice and share this with her uncle, she felt something itching her palm.

Looking down, she saw the little Xiezhi statue had transformed.

It stood upright, its pointed horn facing in the direction of Zhuo Fenglian.

No—

More precisely, it faced Liu Xiaoping beside Zhuo Fenglian.

Wang Chan was stunned.

The Xiezhi stood up and sat down repeatedly, spinning like a lucky charm in her palm. Its tail flicked, stirring the stone’s natural colors—green with yellow flecks.

Wang Chan’s eyes widened.

She swore by her father, who was about to marry, that she just saw this stone lion glare at her—its eyes bright and black, exactly like when her uncle glared at her insubordinate cousin!

Wang Chan: …

The Xiezhi’s pointed horn faced Liu Xiaoping, gathering a bright light like lightning in the night sky.

Yet, contrary to expectation, the light flickered weakly, sparking a few times before fading, disappointing all hopes.

The Xiezhi looked crestfallen, crouched again in Wang Chan’s palm, its tail drooping.

Wang Chan studied the light on its horn a few times, looked around, and reached into the sunlight, grabbing what felt like threads.

"Is this what you want?" She directed the gathered qi to the Xiezhi’s horn.

One handful enough?

If not, she’d gather more.

The Xiezhi was stunned.

In the next moment, as if finally recovering from the unexpected feeding, it stood again, the light converging on its horn.

"Roar—"

A gust of wind rose from nowhere.

Everyone in the courtyard, except the sightless Liu Xiaoping, was shocked.

Under their gazes, Wang Chan tapped the little statue. At once, a mighty roar echoed.

Then, within the turquoise stone statue appeared a massive beast’s shadow, its gaze solemn and just, with wings on its back. Neither sheep nor deer, the carving revealed no grandeur.

It reared up, gathering wind and clouds, the light from its pointed horn rushing toward Liu Xiaoping.

All this happened in an instant.

"Ping, Ping, are you alright?" Zhuo Fenglian snapped back to reality, frantic.

"I'm fine. What was that sound just now? Was there a wild boar?" Liu Xiaoping was startled, her legs trembling.

Tears began to slip from her eyes.

At first black, then clarifying, she crouched, unable to open her eyes. "Ah, it’s so bright, so dazzling."

Bright?

Dazzling?

Everyone was shocked, then overjoyed.

"Ping, you can see now?" Aunt Cui was so excited her cheeks twitched.

She rushed forward, tripping and spilling one jar of dew, which shattered loudly.

No one cared about that now.

Zhuo Fenglian and the old woman were overwhelmed with joy for Liu Xiaoping, who had not yet recovered, blinking as tears washed over her now clearer, brighter autumn-water eyes.

"Ah Chan, good, good girl!" Zhuo Congyun was also emotional, his words rushed.

A stone nurturer.

People nurturing stones, stones nurturing people, dispelling disasters, warding off evil... In the hands of those with celestial fate, this world was so magnificent.

At that moment, Zhuo Congyun understood the ancestors’ melancholy and frustration, even their final resentment and regret.

Who could not be enchanted by such a world? And because of that enchantment, unable to attain it, they regretted never having seen it.

"Ah Chan, what’s going on?" Zhuo Fenglian asked confusedly. "Ping’s eyes are healed, right?"

The light in Wang Chan’s eyes faded, and the misty, azure world receded.

She looked down at the turquoise stone statue in her hand, feeling the nurturing energy it conveyed, and said,

"This stone’s qi field naturally forms the shape of a Xiezhi, whose greatest skill is discerning right from wrong, truth from falsehood."

"Aunt Ping’s eyes were harmed by someone."

Because it was evil, the stone nurtures the person, and the Xiezhi breaks the evil.

…