The small town was neither large nor small, boasting a little over six hundred households. Chen Ping’an knew most of the poor families’ homes, but as for the wealthy ones, their thresholds were too high for a mud-footed youth to cross. He hadn’t even set foot in some of the broad alleyways where the large families clustered. There, the streets were paved with large slabs of bluestone, ensuring that on rainy days, one’s feet wouldn’t sink into mud. These bluestones, of excellent quality, had been smoothed and polished like mirrors by the trampling hooves of horses and the wheels of carriages over centuries.

The four surnames Lu, Li, Zhao, and Song were the most prominent in this town. They had funded the village school, and owned two or three large dragon kilns outside the city. The residences of past kiln supervisors were located on the same street as these families.

Unfortunately, almost all ten letters Chen Ping’an had to deliver today were to well-known, wealthy households. This made sense; like breeds like. Those who could send letters home from afar must come from families with means; otherwise, they wouldn’t have the confidence to travel. Nine of the letters only required him to visit two locations: Fortune Deer Street and Peach Leaf Lane. When he first stepped onto the bluestone slabs as large as beds, the young man felt a little apprehensive. He slowed his pace, feeling a pang of inferiority, as if his straw sandals were dirtying the street.

The first letter Chen Ping’an delivered was to the Lu family, whose ancestor had been granted a jade Ruyi scepter by the Emperor. As the young man stood at their door, he became even more uneasy.

Wealthy families certainly had many requirements. The Lu family’s mansion was not only large, but also had two stone lions guarding the entrance, each as tall as a man, radiating an imposing air. Song Jixin said these things could ward off evil, but Chen Ping’an didn’t even know what evil was. He was merely curious about how the lions’ mouths each contained a perfectly round stone ball. How had they been carved? Chen Ping’an resisted the urge to touch the stone ball, walked up the steps, and knocked on the bronze lion knocker. A young man quickly opened the door. Upon hearing that Chen Ping’an was delivering a letter, the man’s face remained expressionless. He used two fingers to pinch a corner of the envelope, accepted the letter, and then turned and walked quickly back into the house, slamming shut the door adorned with a colorful painting of the God of Wealth.

The young man’s subsequent deliveries were equally uneventful. At a corner on Peach Leaf Lane lived a reclusive family. A kind-faced, short elderly man opened the door, accepted the letter, and said with a smile, “Young man, you’ve worked hard. Would you like to come in and rest, and have a cup of hot water?”

The young man smiled shyly, shook his head, and ran off.

The old man gently placed the letter into his sleeve, not rushing back into the courtyard. He looked up into the distance, his vision blurred.

Finally, his gaze lowered, shifting from far to near, focusing on the peach trees lining both sides of the street. The seemingly senile old man squeezed out a faint smile.

The old man turned and left.

Not long after, a small, adorable yellow bird landed on a peach branch, its beak still tender, chirping softly.

The last letter Chen Ping’an needed to deliver was to the teacher at the village school. Along the way, he passed a fortune-telling stall. A young Daoist priest in worn robes sat upright behind the table, wearing a tall hat resembling a blooming lotus.

Seeing the young man hurrying past, the young Daoist called out, “Young man, don’t miss this opportunity! Draw a lot, and I, a poor Daoist, will read your fortune and predict your luck and misfortune!”

Chen Ping’an didn’t stop, but turned his head and waved.

The Daoist, unwilling to give up, leaned forward and raised his voice, “Young man, I used to charge ten copper coins for interpreting a lot, but today I’ll make an exception and only charge you three! Of course, if you draw a lucky lot, you might want to add an extra coin for good fortune. And if you’re extremely lucky and draw the most auspicious lot, I’ll still only charge you five coins, how about it?”

In the distance, Chen Ping’an’s footsteps noticeably paused. The young Daoist quickly got up, seizing the opportunity, and shouted, “Early in the morning, young man, you’re my first customer. I might as well go all the way and do a good deed. As long as you sit down and draw a lot, I’ll be frank with you, I can write some yellow paper talismans to help you pray for your ancestors and accumulate merit. With my skills, I can’t guarantee that they’ll be reborn into great wealth, but adding one or two points of good fortune is always worth a try.”

Chen Ping’an hesitated, and turned back doubtfully. He sat on the bench in front of the stall.

A simple Daoist, a poor youth; two penniless souls sat facing each other.

The Daoist smiled and held out his hand, gesturing for the young man to pick up the lot container.

Chen Ping’an hesitated, and suddenly said, “I won’t draw a lot, can you just write a yellow paper talisman for me?”

In Chen Ping’an’s memory, this wandering Daoist priest had been in the town for at least five or six years. He hadn’t changed much in appearance and was always friendly to everyone. He usually helped people with palm reading, fortune telling, and lot drawing, and could occasionally write letters for people. Interestingly, in all these years, no one had ever drawn the most auspicious lot or the most unlucky lot from the container holding one hundred and eight bamboo lots. It seemed that every single lot was of middling fortune.

So, during festivals, people could accept spending ten copper coins just for a good omen. But when they truly encountered troubles, no one would be willing to come here and be taken advantage of. It would be wrong to say that this Daoist was a complete fraud. The town was small, and if he truly only knew how to deceive and swindle, he would have been driven out long ago. Therefore, this young Daoist’s skills were definitely not in fortune telling or lot interpretation. However, many people who drank a bowl of talisman water from the Daoist quickly recovered from minor illnesses, which was quite effective.

The young Daoist shook his head and said, “I conduct business with honesty and integrity. I said I would interpret the lot and write a talisman together, and that will cost you five coins.”

Chen Ping’an whispered, “It’s three coins.”

The Daoist laughed and said, “What if you draw the most auspicious lot? Then it’ll be five coins.”

Chen Ping’an made up his mind, and reached out to take the lot container, but suddenly looked up and asked, “How did Daoist know that I happen to have five copper coins on me?”

The Daoist sat upright, “I’ve always been very accurate at judging people’s luck and wealth.”

Chen Ping’an thought for a moment, and picked up the lot container.

The Daoist smiled, “Young man, don’t be nervous. What is destined to be, will be. What is not, cannot be forced. Treat impermanence with an ordinary heart, and that is the best way to be prepared.”

Chen Ping’an put the lot container back on the table, his expression solemn, and asked, “Daoist, I’ll give you all five coins, and won’t draw a lot. Can you just write that yellow paper talisman better than usual, is that okay?”

The Daoist’s smile remained unchanged. He pondered briefly, and nodded, “Alright.”

The brush, ink, and paper were already prepared on the table. After carefully asking for Chen Ping’an’s parents’ names, hometowns, and birth dates, the Daoist took out a yellow talisman paper and quickly wrote, completing it in one stroke.

Chen Ping’an had no idea what was written.

Putting down the brush, the young Daoist picked up the talisman paper and blew on the ink, “After you get home, stand inside the doorway and burn the yellow paper outside the doorway, and that’s it.”

The young man solemnly accepted the talisman paper, carefully treasured it, and didn’t forget to place the five copper coins on the table. He bowed to express his thanks.

The young Daoist waved his hand, signaling the young man to go about his business.

Chen Ping’an ran off to deliver the last letter.

The Daoist leaned lazily in his chair, glanced at the copper coins, bent down and gathered them into his arms.

Just then, a small, exquisite yellow bird swooped down from the sky to the table and pecked at one of the copper coins, quickly losing interest and flying away.

“The yellow bird wanted to carry flowers, but the peach trees in your house have not yet bloomed.”

After reciting this poem, the Daoist casually waved his sleeve and sighed, “Eight feet of fate, don’t ask for ten.”

With this wave of his sleeve, two bamboo lots slipped out and fell to the ground. The Daoist exclaimed in surprise, quickly picked them up, and then looked around furtively. After discovering that no one was paying attention, he breathed a sigh of relief and quickly hid the two bamboo lots back into his loose sleeve.

The young Daoist cleared his throat, straightened his face, and continued to wait for the next customer.

He mused, earning money from women was indeed easier.

In fact, the two bamboo lots hidden in the young Daoist’s sleeve, one was the most auspicious lot, and the other was the most unlucky lot, both used to earn big money.

This was not to be shared with outsiders.

The young man was naturally unaware of these mysteries. He walked lightly and arrived outside the village school, surrounded by lush, verdant bamboo groves.

Chen Ping’an slowed his pace. Inside, a middle-aged man’s rich voice sounded, “The sun rises with radiance, the lambskin robe is like dew.”

Then, a neat and clear childish voice echoed, “The sun rises with radiance, the lambskin robe is like dew.”

Chen Ping’an looked up. The rising sun was brilliant and majestic.

The young man was stunned.

When he came back to his senses, the young students were shaking their heads, skillfully reciting a passage according to the teacher’s instructions: “At the time of the Awakening of Insects, heaven and earth generate, and all things begin to flourish. Sleep at night and walk early, take a wide step in the courtyard, a gentleman walks slowly, in order to cultivate ambition…”

Chen Ping’an stood at the school door, hesitating.

A middle-aged scholar with temples dusted with frost turned to look, and gently walked out of the room.

Chen Ping’an handed the letter out with both hands, respectfully saying, “This is the teacher’s letter.”

The tall man in a green robe accepted the envelope and said gently, “When you have nothing to do in the future, you can come here and listen.”

Chen Ping’an was embarrassed, since he might not have the time to come here and listen to the teacher. He didn’t want to deceive him.

The man smiled, understandingly said, “It doesn’t matter, all the principles are in the books, but being a person is outside of them. Go and be busy.”

Chen Ping’an breathed a sigh of relief and said goodbye.

After running far away, the young man turned back as if compelled by a ghost.

He saw the teacher still standing at the door, his figure bathed in sunlight, looking like a god from afar.