Nine Transformations of the True Spirit

After Chen Yuan left Li Mansion, he returned to the small courtyard, put on shabby linen clothes, put away the wooden sign indicating the identity of Baibingtang, put away the eighty coins he brought from home, and walked out of Xingyefang.

He followed the path Zhao Shan said and walked for a quarter of an hour to Wenchang Street.

This is a quite quiet street. There are several bookstores along the street, which are filled with books. Some literati, accompanied by the waiters in the stores, select books. They speak softly and the environment is quiet and elegant.

There were more than ten literati and Confucian scholars in long robes sitting on the street, sitting on short stools with a small table in front of them, with pens, ink, paper, inkstones and other items placed on it.

There were guests standing in front of a small table with several Confucian scholars, dictating something and asking them to write letters, invitations, greeting cards and the like.

But most of the Confucian scholars' small tables were empty, waiting for customers to come.

Chen Yuan slowed down and walked from the street to the end of the street, and then from the end to the street. His eyes swept over all the Confucian scholars setting up stalls. After going back and forth several times, he stopped in front of the most deserted stall.

This is an old Confucian scholar in his fifties, with a skinny build and a sallow complexion. He wears a long gown with a few conspicuous patches of coarse cloth, but it has been washed white and is very clean.

On the small table in front of him was the cheapest brush with messy bristles, the inkstone was made of an old blue brick, and the paper was rough and inferior hemp paper.

The old Confucian scholar was lowering his head and flipping through a book with interest. From the corner of his eye, he saw someone stopping in front of the stall. He quickly raised his head and said hello:

"This little brother, do you need to write letters, invitations, or invitations for me?"

Chen Yuan nodded:

"Now that I'm tired, I'd like to ask the old gentleman to write a letter for me."

A smile appeared on the old Confucian scholar's face, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes became a little more fine. He gently closed the book, put it aside, and said:

"I don't dare to take it, I don't dare to take it...a letter costs five cents and three pieces of hemp paper."

Chen Yuan took out five copper coins from his arms and placed them on the small table.

The old Confucian scholar carefully put away the copper plate and began to grind the ink. After a while, he picked up the brush and looked up at Chen Yuan:

"Brother, please tell me."

Chen Yuan thought for a while and said:

"Mom, Dad, I'm living a good life in the county, you don't have to worry..."

Chen Yuan spoke eloquently, but concealed the matter of the Hundred Soldiers Hall and the apprenticeship. He just said that after becoming an apprentice, he would not worry about food and clothing, so that his parents should not worry.

The old Confucian scholar's writing was as fast as flying. In a short time, he finished writing the letter and read it to Chen Yuan.

Chen Yuan nodded:

"That's enough, please sir."

The old Confucian scholar added the header and the ending, then dried the ink, folded it carefully, and handed it to Chen Yuan:

"Brother, I only write letters for you. You have to prepare the envelope yourself."

Chen Yuan took the letter, turned and left.

The old Confucian scholar watched Chen Yuan walk away, picked up the book, and continued reading, waiting for the next guest.

But Chen Yuan did not go far, but stopped at the corner of an alley.

This alley is extremely secluded, with very few pedestrians coming and going.

Chen Yuan's senses were astonishing. Whenever someone approached, he would retreat to an alley to avoid them.

After the others left, he poked his head out again and stared at the old Confucian scholar from afar.

…

The afternoon slowly passed, the sun went down, and the number of pedestrians on Wenchang Street became increasingly sparse.

The old scholar sighed, put away the stall, moved the short bench and table to a nearby bookstore, and walked slowly out of Wenchang Street.

Chen Yuan's eyes flashed and he started to follow.

After he left, the old Confucian scholar only had two guests in total. He spent most of his time sitting empty-handed to entertain guests, earning a meager income.

Chen Yuan followed the old Confucian scholar out of Wenchang Street and watched him buy two thick flour cakes from a street cake shop, and then walked all the way to the northeast corner of the county.

The houses here are dilapidated and it is where poor people in the county live.

The old Confucian scholar came to a small courtyard and pushed open the door.

Chen Yuan wrote down the address and turned to leave.

…

Zhao Shan came back in the evening and asked:

"Junior brother, have you finished writing your letter?"

Chen Yuan went back to his room and took out the letter and handed it to Zhao Shan.

Zhao Shan glanced casually, took out an envelope from his arms, and put the letter in:

"I'll have this letter delivered to Chen Erhua tomorrow and take it back to your parents... Is anyone in your family literate?"

Chen Yuan said gratefully:

"Thank you, senior brother. No one in my family can read, but there is an old boy in the village who can read the letters for me."

Zhao Shan nodded:

"That's good. Your filial piety is not in vain."

…

The next day, after having lunch, Chen Yuan went to Wenchang Street again and carefully observed the old Confucian scholar from a distance.

The old Confucian scholar was still the same as yesterday, his business was bleak, there were only two or three customers in the afternoon, and most of them were reading.

As dusk approached, he closed the stall and went home, buying two thick flour pancakes on the way.

After three consecutive days like this, Chen Yuan saw the dilemma of the old Confucian scholar.

There are many people writing letters on Wenchang Street, many of them middle-aged people in their thirties and forties.

The old Confucian scholar was too old and decrepit, and his pen, ink, paper and inkstone were shabby. He looked very different from other Confucian scholars.

People who come here to write letters and invitations tend to prefer young Confucian scholars and stay away from older Confucian scholars.

But according to Chen Yuan's observations and comparisons over the past few days, the old Confucian scholar's handwriting looks the most comfortable and his writing speed is also the fastest.

It's just that his appearance is so poor that there are so few customers.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, Chen Yuan no longer quietly observed the old Confucian scholar from a distance, but came to his stall.

The old Confucian scholar put down the book in his hand, raised his head and greeted:

"This little brother needs to write a letter for him... Hey, it turns out it's Brother Chen. Is he writing to his parents at home this time?"

Chen Yuan smiled and said:

"I didn't expect the old gentleman to still remember my name."

The old Confucian scholar sighed softly:

"There aren't many customers these days, but I still remember Brother Chen's signature."

Chen Yuan smiled and said:

"Old sir, this time I come to you not to ask you to write a letter for me, but to have another business."

"Brother Chen, please tell me, as long as I can serve you, I will definitely not refuse."

"I would like to ask my husband to teach me how to read and write."

The old Confucian scholar was surprised and said:

"Literate and decipher? Brother Chen, aren't you kidding me?"

Chen Yuan took out a cloth bag from his arms and threw it lightly on the small table.

Wow!

The cloth bag fell on the small table, and the mouth of the bag opened, revealing the copper plates stacked together inside.

"As long as your husband agrees, I am willing to give him 300 cash per month. Among them is 50 cash, which is my first payment. I will make up the remaining 250 cash on the fifth day of next month. "

The old Confucian scholar's eyes shone brightly, and he stretched out his hand towards the bag, but stopped midway, looked up at Chen Yuan, and said hesitantly:

"Brother Chen, are you sure you want to learn calligraphy from me? I've wasted half my life and didn't even pass the boyhood examination. Three hundred words a month is enough to study in a private school. Why come to me, an old Confucian scholar who failed to enter school..."

Chen Yuan said calmly:

"I don't need to worry about that, sir. If you don't want to teach me how to read and write, then I'll just find someone else to teach you."

The old Confucian scholar smiled bitterly and said:

"Okay, I promise you, this old man can hardly afford to eat, so there is no reason to refuse door-to-door business."

Chen Yuan smiled and said:

"Thank you sir. From now on, you only need to teach me for an hour every afternoon. This should be no problem for you, right?"

The old Confucian scholar picked up the bag and smiled bitterly:

"Haha, I've been sitting here all afternoon on Wenchang Street, so it's not difficult to spare an hour."

"I'll give you the remaining 250 yuan on the fifth day of the next month. Is that okay?"

"I trust Brother Chen, and I'm not afraid of his jokes. These fifty coins are already a timely help for me... By the way, my name is Yan Xiangpei, so you don't have to be polite."

Chen Yuan looked serious:

"Since sir is willing to teach me how to read and write, he is the student's teacher. How can the student be unreasonable? Sir, just call me Erniu."

"This...hey, that's fine, I'm sorry for you. Chen Xiao...Er Niu, I'll close the stall right now, take you back to my place, and teach you how to read and write."

Afterwards, Chen Yuan helped the old Confucian scholar close the stall and followed him back to the small courtyard where he lived.

The small courtyard is very shabby, with only one main room and one side room. The old Confucian scholar introduced:

"I bought this yard a few years ago. Although it's a bit dilapidated, it still has a place to stay..."

Chen Yuan followed Lao Ru into the main room and looked at the furnishings inside.

In addition to tables, chairs, bed cabinets, there are two huge bookshelves in the house, filled with all kinds of books.

The old Confucian scholar murmured:

"I have no other hobbies, I just love reading. Over the past few decades, I have spent a lot of money to buy hundreds of volumes of ancient books. I know astronomy and geography. Unfortunately, I have also delayed my study of imperial examinations and literature, and I have not even taken the examination as a child. , and finally ended up in this situation, down and out..."

Chen Yuan said calmly:

"Sir, don't worry. Since I chose you, I can trust your knowledge."

A trace of embarrassment flashed across the old Confucian scholar's face:

"Ahem, I am not just boasting. I have extensive knowledge and have read a lot of books. I can not only teach you how to read and digit, but also teach you poetry, poetry, classics, and Taoist classics..."

Chen Yuan glanced at the old Confucian scholar with a half-smile:

"Sir, don't worry. What I want to learn is not just as simple as reading and writing. If your husband is really involved in a wide range of topics, I will naturally continue to study with him. As for the three hundred words per month, I will not miss him." "

When the old Confucian scholar heard this, he couldn't help but smile:

"I will definitely try my best!"

He quickly returned to the room, took out a book with an old cover, pen, ink, paper and inkstone, put them on the table, and began to teach Chen Yuan how to read:

"This is the "Thousand Character Classic" for young children's enlightenment. Let's start with the first volume today..."

…

About an hour later, the dry-mouthed old Confucian scholar stopped, looked Chen Yuan up and down, and marveled:

"I have lived for decades, and today I really opened my eyes. I didn't expect that there are people in this world who have a photographic memory!"

On the pieces of hemp paper in front of Chen Yuan, more than thirty complex words were densely written, but not a single word was erased.

Chen Yuan looked at the result of studying for an hour and smiled with satisfaction:

"It's because my husband taught me well that I can learn so quickly."

As long as the old Confucian scholar explains it once, he can remember it and write it down accurately.

It's just that the characters in this world are too complicated and have many strokes.

Each character has several meanings, as well as Chinese characters.

The old Confucian scholar needed to explain them one by one, which was very time-consuming, so Chen Yuancai only learned more than thirty characters.

The old Confucian scholar said:

"I don't dare to take credit. You have a photographic memory, and it doesn't matter whoever teaches you...but do you really not want to go to a private school? With your talent, as long as you study diligently, you will be able to pick out talented people. !”

Chen Yuan smiled:

"Sir, don't persuade me anymore. I am not interested in this, and I have no choice. It is not easy to learn from you."

The old scholar sighed:

"What a waste of talent, what a waste of talent!"

He felt sorry for Chen Yuan's choice, but he didn't ask any more questions.

This is also what Chen Yuan is most satisfied with the old scholar.

He spent 300 coins every month to find a poor scholar to learn from. It was unreasonable.

But the old scholar never explored the reason behind it, and was not surprised at Chen Yuan's maturity at a young age. He just focused on teaching characters, which saved him a lot of trouble.

"It's time today. I'm leaving first. I'll come to learn from you tomorrow afternoon."

Chen Yuan stood up and said goodbye, and the old scholar sent him out of the courtyard.

Chen Yuan walked around the county town, secretly observing behind him, and made sure that the old scholar did not follow him, so he was relieved and returned to the small courtyard of Xingyefang.

One must be on guard against others, and since Manager Li did not allow Zhao Shan to learn to read, Chen Yuan dared not reveal that he was learning to read, lest his image collapse and cause Manager Li to be suspicious.

Only by being cautious and keeping things secret enough can one avoid disaster.

…

In the following days, Chen Yuan practiced martial arts in the morning and evening, and went to the old scholar to learn writing in the afternoon. His life was extremely fulfilling.

On the fifth day of September, Chen Yuan received a monthly salary of one or two taels of silver.

This was a common practice for yellow-clothed apprentices. Even if Chen Yuan did nothing, he could still receive this money.

He took out two hundred and fifty coins and gave them to the old scholar. The old scholar was completely relieved and taught Chen Yuan writing more diligently.

During this period, Zhao Shan had not returned for two consecutive days.

After Chen Yuan asked, he learned that he led the guard team to escort the convoy carrying ironware to the neighboring county.

This made Chen Yuan feel more at ease to infuse his body with starlight, and his physical body continued to strengthen. The progress of Fu Hu Jin became more gratifying, and his physical energy continued to grow.