Becoming an immortal from a canal worker

As dawn broke, the courtyard still carried the chill of the night.

Chen Ping sat cross-legged beside the stone table, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

The method of refining blood is simple: condense your qi and blood, making the blood in your body thicker and heavier. When it becomes thick enough, the heart has to endure and withstand every pump.

The blood and qi circulated heavily in the meridians, thicker than usual, each flow carrying a dull, oppressive feeling, like silt being squeezed in a pipe.

My heart clenched suddenly.

prick!

It felt like a thin needle was piercing out from inside. Chen Ping's brows furrowed sharply, and he pressed his right hand against his chest.

The stinging pain lasted only two or three breaths before dissipating, leaving behind a dull, burning sensation.

He slowly exhaled and felt the movement within his body.

My blood and qi have calmed down a bit, and I feel slightly more somber than yesterday, but the hurdle weighing on my heart is still far away.

He stood up, moved his arms and legs, and felt a little heavy in his chest, but it didn't affect his walking.

Old Liu had already entered the kitchen, and the sound of bubbling porridge wafted out, carrying the aroma of porridge mixed with the smell of pickled vegetables.

After having breakfast, I changed into clean clothes, opened the courtyard gate, and left.

At the town entrance, he flagged down a hired rickshaw. The driver was a thin old man in his fifties. When Chen Ping got on, he asked where he was going without turning his head.

"Shanyang City".

With a flick of the whip, the carriage rumbled onto the official road.

An hour later, on the south street of Shanyang City.

The last time I came here was on the night of Bai Chongshan's birthday banquet. The streetlights were just coming on, and there were seven or eight carriages parked in front of the Bai family's gate. The gatekeepers were dressed in neat indigo short shirts. Before anyone even entered the gate, the sound of string and bamboo instruments could already be heard through the walls.

The Bai family has changed its appearance.

Two large vermilion doors were open, and four or five wooden crates were piled on the stone steps in front of them. The crates were open, and two workers were squatting on the ground, stacking things inside. They put the round items wrapped in cotton cloth into the crates one by one, then stuffed them with straw and pressed them down. Their hands moved quickly, but they didn't say a word.

Chen Ping paused at the door.

Inside the doorway, an old woman with a cloth tied around her waist came out carrying folded silk. She walked quickly and almost bumped into the door frame, ducking to avoid it. She walked around the wooden box and went to the carriage by the door, put the silk into the carriage, and then turned and walked back inside.

"Brother Chen."

Bai Ming emerged from behind the screen wall, dressed in a blue robe, with the same white jade pendant at his waist. His face was as gentle as ever. He stepped aside and said, "My father is here. Come in."

The two stepped over the threshold and walked towards the main hall.

The flowerbeds in the front yard are mostly empty.

On the night of Bai Chongshan's birthday banquet, the flower garden was filled with clusters of small flowers, purple and white, blooming densely, making the whole courtyard look much more dignified.

Now the flowers are all gone, leaving only a few round pits in the ground, with the edges still covered with fresh soil turned up when the roots were pulled out, dark and drying in the sun.

The wooden frame under the eaves has been moved, leaving several empty nail holes on the wall.

Several boxes were stacked at the entrance of the main hall, and bundles of account books tied with rope were neatly stacked against the wall.

As the two entered, a servant boy of about fifteen or sixteen years old hurriedly came out with his head down, carrying a bronze sparrow ornament in his hands. He almost bumped into Chen Ping, took half a step back, bowed his head and apologized, but did not stop walking out.

Bai Chongshan sat in a chair, slowly turning the pair of walnuts in his hand.

Seeing Chen Ping enter, she looked up from the walnuts, glanced at him, and gestured for him to sit down.

Chen Ping sat down opposite him.

Bai Ming stood to the side, without taking a seat.

Bai Chongshan didn't get straight to the point. He remained silent for a moment before speaking, "I heard that Hu Qian asked you to intercede on his behalf."

It's not a question.

"Yes," Chen Ping replied.

"The Tsing Yi Society wants the granary."

Chen Ping nodded.

Bai Chongshan turned the walnut around, slowly rotating it, his gaze falling on Chen Ping's face. His voice was calm: "The bidding will begin in three days. Both the Bai Gang and the Dahe Gang have sent people to sound out the situation. You are not the first to come today, nor will you be the last."

He paused. "What can you offer?"

Chen Ping thought for a moment and then said, "The Green Robe Society has blocked the White Gang's grain transport. If the White Gang takes over the granaries, it's like the Bai family is handing the knife to the White Gang."

Bai Chongshan didn't say anything, but twirled the walnut in his hand twice.

"The Green Robe Society took over the granary without touching the grain transport." Chen Ping paused, "The Green Robe Society took all the grain stored up by the Bai family, paying in cash, not a penny less."

Bai Chongshan's lips twitched slightly, but he didn't reply immediately. He glanced at Bai Ming.

Bai Ming stood there with his hands at his sides, his expression unreadable.

"What price will Hu Qian offer?" Bai Chongshan asked.

"I don't know," Chen Ping said calmly. "I'm just here to let you know. Hu Qian can negotiate the price himself."

Bai Chongshan looked down at the walnut in his palm, remained silent for a moment, then looked up and said, "Okay."

Just this one word.

Chen Ping stood up, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and prepared to take his leave. Then he stopped and said, "Old Master, there is one more thing."

Bai Chongshan looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

"I've thought it through regarding the Tianyan Prefecture matter." Chen Ping paused, "I agree."

The main room fell silent for a moment.

Bai Chongshan stopped eating the walnuts in his hand.

He looked up at Chen Ping for two or three seconds, then threw his head back and burst into laughter. The laughter wasn't loud, but it was genuine. He patted the handrail, stood up, walked over, and patted Chen Ping's shoulder firmly. The shrewd calculation in his eyes had faded somewhat, leaving only the expression of an old man seeing something to his liking: "No problem!"

He patted it again, "I've been waiting for you to say that for quite some time."

Bai Ming, standing beside him, smiled slightly, but quickly suppressed it.

Bai Chongshan released his grip, sat back down in his chair, and the walnut started spinning again: "The handover of the industry will take at least two or three months, and the resettlement of personnel will take even longer. There's no rush. Just get your current tasks sorted out, and we'll all go together when the time comes."

Chen Ping nodded, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and turned to leave the main room.

Bai Ming saw him off as he walked out of the main hall, turned a corner of a covered walkway, and stopped at the entrance of a side courtyard.

"Brother Chen." He turned to the side and gestured inside, "The autumn examination is less than two months away. My father specially cleared out this side courtyard for Mr. Li to use for his studies. It's quiet here."

Chen Ping glanced inside.

The courtyard wasn't large, with an old locust tree whose shade covered half of it.

A man sat at the stone table, dressed in a blue robe, his head bowed, with several open books beside him, his pen moving across the paper without stopping.

A plate of untouched snacks rested on the corner of the table, next to a teacup. The tea had cooled considerably, but the person didn't touch it, their eyes fixed on the paper, the pen moving steadily.

It was Li Wenxiu.

Chen Ping looked at it for a moment, then looked away.

"Let's go," he said. "We won't bother him anymore."

Bai Ming nodded and led him toward the door.

As Chen Ping left the Bai family's house, the hired carriage was still tied up on the street. The driver was dozing off on the carriage shaft. Hearing footsteps, he looked up, his eyes still a little dazed.

"Back to Qingkou Town."

The driver responded, jumped onto the seat, and raised the whip.

The carriage turned and drove onto South Street, gradually leaving the Bai family's vermilion gate behind.

After seeing Chen Ping off, Bai Ming turned and walked towards the main hall.

Servants were still going in and out of the courtyard, their footsteps making a rumbling noise on the bluestone ground, but the main room was very quiet.

Bai Chongshan sat there, turning the walnuts, his eyelids half-closed, without saying a word.

Bai Ming walked in, stood to the side, and after a moment of silence, said, "Father, there's something I've heard recently."

Bai Chongshan didn't look up. "Speak."

"It seems that Prefect Qian is about to be transferred," Bai Ming said cautiously. "Moreover, I heard that after he is transferred, some sects want to get involved. It's hard to say what their intentions will be, but it may be detrimental to the Green Robe Society."

Bai Chongshan slowed down, spun the walnut in his hand twice, and then stopped.

He sat there without speaking immediately, his profile half-lit by the light streaming through the window, making his expression indistinct.

A moment later, he looked up at Bai Ming and said, "Get me paper and pen."

Bai Ming didn't ask any more questions. He turned around and went into the inner room, took out Xuan paper and a brush, and placed them on the low table in front of Bai Chongshan.

Bai Chongshan lowered his head, flattened the paper, and looked up. "Grind the ink."

Bai Ming picked up the ink stick and slowly began to grind it in the inkstone. The fragrance of ink gradually wafted out, faint and delicate.

Bai Chongshan sat there, gazing at the spread-out white paper, his hands resting on his knees, thinking quietly for a while without uttering a sound.

Bai Ming kept his head down as he ground the ink, without urging him on.

The ink in the inkstone gradually deepened.

"Alright." Bai Ming stopped and handed over the pen.

Bai Chongshan took the brush, dipped it in ink, and began to write on the paper. He wrote slowly, line by line, for five or six lines. He paused, thought for a moment, added two more lines, and then put down his brush.

He looked down at what was written on the paper, then picked it up and folded it neatly against the corner of the table.

Bai Ming stood to the side, glanced at the letter, and before he could read anything, Bai Chongshan had already pressed it into his palm.

Bai Chongshan raised his head and looked at Bai Ming: "Send this letter to Cangwu Terrace."

Bai Ming was stunned for a moment.

"So early?" He asked in a low voice.

Bai Chongshan placed the folded letter on the table, picked up the walnut again, twirled it in his palm twice, and calmly said, "Since Chen Ping has agreed, we should still help with this small favor."

Bai Ming looked at his father for a moment, then lowered his head and replied, "Your son understands."

He took the letter and turned to leave.

As he approached the door, a worker carrying a box passed by in the courtyard. Bai Ming stepped aside to let him pass, then walked out of the main room and into the sunlit courtyard.