The Nightmare Experience of a Useless Person

The rooster crowed three times in the courtyard, and the calm sea began to ripple. On the communal bed, several energetic children began to get restless again.

The goddess shook her head. She liked vigorous vitality, but she still couldn't stand excessive noise. She couldn't help but miss Ah Liu. Ah Liu was also a child, but he never gave her a headache.

However, the expected commotion did not materialize. The children dressed themselves, folded their blankets, and each had their own small wooden cup and brush. They filled them with hot water and began to wash up in a very professional manner.

"Ah Li is an idiot. Your cup should be placed behind mine. You put it in the wrong place again."

"But I want to put it together with Xiaotao's cup."

"Then...then I'll put mine with Xiaotao's, so the three of us can put them together!"

"Ali, Xuanxuan, quickly move your desks over here!"

Tiny hands pushed the table, the table legs scraped against the ground, making an unpleasant sound. The small desks were put together to form a large table, and soon, breakfast was served.

Plain congee, pickled vegetables, steamed buns...

"Steamed buns again?" the deity muttered to himself.

Her voice was very soft, but Ali, who was beside her, still heard it. She tiptoed and whispered in the deity's ear, "Sister-in-law, it's almost Chinese New Year. Aunt Dong and my brother will save money to buy us new clothes, so we can only eat steamed buns these days."

Her eyes were clear, and her small mouth was eloquent. As if afraid that the gods hadn't understood, she added, "So you can't dislike steamed buns, okay? Aunt Dong and my brothers will be sad if they hear that."

She's very well-behaved, but why does she call me sister-in-law?

There was no time to ask questions. The food was served, and everyone had to rely on their own abilities. If it weren't for Xiao Tao and Ali taking care of him, the deity wouldn't even have been able to eat this half bowl of porridge and two spoonfuls of pickled vegetables.

Noisy, hurried, crowded, but orderly, they have adapted to this life and even enjoy it.

After breakfast, it's time for morning classes. The dining tables are moved and arranged neatly, and the small courtyard becomes the children's classroom. Now that there are students, what about the teachers?

The teacher is actually... Jiang Zhiyang? He was holding a book, swaying his head as he read, a long stick in his hand that he would occasionally poke at the ground, his legs crossed, his cloth shoes shaking as if he were bored out of his mind.

"Can this little rascal really teach students well?" The deity narrowed his eyes in disbelief.

"The east wind at night releases a thousand trees of flowers, and blows down stars like rain."

It seems the students were more motivated than the teachers; they read in unison and loudly, with two or three younger children vying to show off, their faces flushed and necks bulging, their voices rising in waves.

"Brother Zhiyang, what does this sentence mean?" Ayu, who was biting her pen, interrupted the repeated recitation.

"What does that mean? What does that mean... it means there are lots of lanterns and the fireworks are beautiful."

Such beautiful words became simple and unadorned in his mouth, but the meaning was still good.

"I also want to see the lanterns."

"Fireworks? I only saw a little bit last time. When can we go to the city to see them? I want to see big fireworks."

"Me too, the fence around the yard is too high, I can't see anything at all, I really want to..."

Jiang Zhiyang decisively interrupted any whispering in class and then began a new round of recitation.

The desk was missing a leg, the calligraphy brush was bristling, the ink dish was full of water, and the handwritten books were written in an elegant style.

And what about this courtyard? The high walls are covered with moss, which withers and forms unsightly patches, falling onto the petals of three or four chrysanthemums in the corner. The chrysanthemums don't get sunlight and are only half open, while the other half already shows signs of withering.

However, the spider lilies on one side were blooming exceptionally well, with clusters of vibrant red bursting forth from their sturdy stems, like dazzling fireworks during a festival. But upon closer inspection, the red revealed a hint of eeriness, as if it were being irrigated with the blood of others, burning away the lifespan of those around them, making it all the more exquisite.

Behind them stood a sturdy peach tree, its tall canopy extending over the wall, greedily basking in the sparse sunlight. The deity reached out and gently stroked its mottled bark. In the bleakness of late autumn, the tree had long held its breath, awaiting its season.

"Why doesn't it grow leaves or bloom?" Xiao Tao looked up, the bare branches reflected in her clear eyes, yet a wave of inexplicable sadness washed over her. "Am I going to get better too?"

"How could that be? It's just not spring yet. When the weather warms up, the trees will be full of flowers." Ali held Xiao Tao's hand tightly against her heart. "By then, Xiao Tao will be better, and we can go back to the city together. I'll buy you candy, okay?"

Will I really get better?

"Of course! We'll all be alright, look over there!" The child pointed a small finger to the distant horizon, where a barren mountain stood. "Brother Zhiyang said there's a Shrine of Longevity on that mountain. If we just bow three times in that direction, the Goddess of Longevity will bless us with good health and a long life!"

Xiao Tao believed her, and then the two girls put their hands together and bowed solemnly. It was unclear whose tears fell, but they soaked the mud at their feet.

There's nothing on that mountain...

The deity raised her head, and the soft sunlight cast a hazy halo in her pupils. Suddenly, she didn't know what to say. It was as if a gust of wind pierced her heart and chilled her limbs.

In the innocent and carefree years, we lament the passing of spring and the coming of autumn, as if those wonderful days are forever waiting, yet will never truly arrive.

It turns out that the growth of life is not so straightforward. Sufficient food is hard to come by, and suitable clothes can never keep up with the changing weather. Even if you try your best to hold on, you may still accidentally lose a piece of yourself. And if you lose just one piece, it will be difficult to grow.

"What are you doing! Let's go." Jiang Zhiyang's slightly roguish greeting came from behind, startling the deity.

But when he turned his head, the soft sunlight shone into his eyes, like a piece of fine amber, deep and crystal clear, bringing a sense of comfort, as if there really was a miraculous temple on that mountain, and as long as you believed in him and relied on him, everything would be alright.

"Where are you going?" the deity replied.

"I'll take you home. I originally planned to have Aunt Dong take you, but given your constant lies, I was afraid you'd delay Aunt Dong's business. So, I, Teacher Jiang, will personally escort you."

"But I don't have a home!"

"Here we go again. If you don't tell me, I'll just walk past each house until I find yours." Jiang Zhiyang shook his head, thinking to himself, "Such a nice girl, always talking nonsense. Once I return her to her rightful owner, I'll have to ask for a good reward."

The short donkey, having rested overnight, was now full of energy and pulled the cart forward quite steadily.

"I never thought you could be a teacher?" the deity joked.

"How about that? I do have some skills, don't I?" As if he had been praised, Jiang Zhiyang picked up a rice stalk and waved it triumphantly, sweeping it across the donkey's hindquarters.

"Can he really teach children well?" It seems like a question, but it's actually sarcastic. If those children want to learn, they'll probably have to learn his crossed legs.

"Whether they are taught well or not, as long as they know a few words, they will have more options when they grow up."

"Teacher Jiang, you taught in the morning, but not in the afternoon?"

"This afternoon, Jiang Shuo will teach you about some commonly used medicinal herbs, so that you'll have a better understanding of what's needed for minor illnesses and pains in the future."

The consideration was thorough. In a prison built on poverty, there were still two young people striving to keep going. It was not easy, and it was admirable.

"What exactly is Lok Shan Tong? Is it a clinic? A school?" This time, the deity spoke much more gently.

"This is a bit hard to explain," Jiang Zhiyang said, propping his chin up as he pondered seriously.

"About fifty years ago, the previous king visited Rongcheng and encountered several abandoned children. Upon inquiring about the cause, he learned that they had gone mad and were always crying for no reason, unable to control themselves. The king was very kind and ordered the accompanying imperial physicians to treat them, but those old foxes refused to do so. Only the youngest physician was willing to take on this mess, which was Old Jiang."

"Old Chiang?"

"Aunt Dong's husband was Jiang Shuo's father. Old Jiang built the Leshan Hall to treat sick children, but madness was difficult to cure. Old Jiang was researching and trying different methods. A few days later, the emperor passed away, but Old Jiang stayed behind."

"What happened to that Dr. Jiang more than fifty years ago?" the deity asked tentatively.

Jiang Zhiyang slapped his thigh. "He's not dead, he's doing great! He's just gotten a bit old... Later, Old Jiang married a wife in Rongcheng, had children, and spent his whole life in the small courtyard. Some of his children recovered, while others died. Day after day, people left and people came in."

He spoke frankly, especially when he mentioned the word "death." Unlike others, he showed no embarrassment or sadness. Fifty years of torment seemed to pass in an instant when he spoke of it.

"But the good times didn't last long. The king passed away, a new king took office, the royal court changed drastically, and the Lok Sin Tong was forgotten. Without the support behind it, the Lok Sin Tong's life became more and more difficult. It could only rely on Old Xue's house calls to make money and the donations from kind-hearted people to barely keep going."

Jiang Zhiyang's voice grew softer and softer, as if his confidence had been drained away when money was mentioned.