On the second day of the second lunar month, the dragon raises its head.

In the twilight, in a secluded place on Mingdiping Alley, a small town, there lived a frail and lonely young man. At this time, he was following custom, holding a candle in one hand and a peach branch in the other, illuminating the beams, walls, and wooden bed. He tapped rhythmically with the peach branch, trying to drive away snakes, scorpions, centipedes, etc., murmuring words as he went. It was an old saying passed down through generations in this town: "On the second day of the second lunar month, candles illuminate the beams, peaches strike the walls, and no creatures will hide among humans."

Mr. Chen, whose given name was Ping'an, was orphaned at a young age. The town's porcelain kiln was renowned throughout the land. Since the founding of the current dynasty, it had been responsible for the solemn duty of "burning and offering sacrifices to imperial ancestors". There were always officials from the court stationed there, overseeing the kiln's operations.Orphaned and alone, Mr. Chen became a potter at an early age. At first, he only did menial tasks under a surly master craftsman. After years of hardship, he had just begun to grasp the principles of pottery when fate dealt him another blow. The town suddenly lost its permit to operate the kiln. The dozens of kilns surrounding the town, which resembled slumbering dragons, were all ordered closed and extinguished overnight.

Chen Pingan put down the new peach branch and blew out the candle. After walking out of the room, he sat on the steps and looked up at the brilliant starry sky.

To this day, I still clearly remember that master craftsman surnamed Yao who only admitted to being half a disciple. Last autumn, one morning, he was found sitting on a small bamboo chair facing the kiln mouth, with his eyes closed.

However, someone like Mr. Yao who is always trying to be difficult and nitpicky will ultimately come to an end.

The town's artisans, who had for generations only made ceramics, dared not make sacrificial wares or sell their stockpiles to the common people. Forced to find other ways to survive, fourteen-year-old Chen Pingan was also kicked out and returned to his dilapidated old house in Ni Bing Alley. Even if he wanted to be a wastrel, there was nothing left for him to squander.

Having drifted around as a restless spirit for some time, Chen Ping'an found it increasingly difficult to make a living. He relied on his meager savings to barely feed himself. A few days ago, he heard that a blacksmith from out of town surnamed Ruan had arrived in Qilong Lane, a few streets away. The man claimed to be accepting seven or eight apprentices in blacksmithing, offering no wages but providing food. Chen Ping'an rushed over with hopes of luck, but the middle-aged man only glanced at him and turned him away. At that moment, Chen Ping'an wondered, could it be that blacksmithing wasn't about physical strength but facial features?

Although Chen Pingan looked frail, his strength was not to be underestimated. This came from years of practicing pottery making and molding clay. Besides that, Chen Pingan followed the old man surnamed Yao, running all over the mountains and rivers within a hundred miles of their town, tasting every kind of soil in the surroundings. He worked diligently, doing any dirty or tiring job without complaint. Unfortunately, Old Yao never liked Chen Pingan, finding him unintelligent, like a stubborn piece of wood that wouldn't open up. He was far inferior to his eldest disciple Liu Xian. This wasn't surprising, as the master leads the way in, but cultivation is ultimately up to the individual. For example, even in the tedious task of pottery making, Liu Xian's skill in just half a year was equal to Chen Pingan's three years of hard work.

Although Chen Ping'an might not need this skillset in his lifetime, he still closed his eyes as always, imagined himself standing before a stone slab and potter's wheel, and began practicing pottery. His skills were naturally developing.

About every fifteen minutes, Nian would rest for a while, shaking his wrists, and then repeat the cycle until he was completely exhausted. Only then would Chen Ping'an rise, strolling in the courtyard while slowly stretching his muscles. No one had ever taught Chen Ping'an these things; it was all his own figuring out.

The world was originally silent, but Chen Ping'an heard a sharp, sarcastic laugh. He stopped in his tracks and, as expected, saw the same-aged boy sitting on the wall, grinning with undisguised disdain.

This person is Chen Ping'an's old neighbor. It is said that he is even the illegitimate son of the former inspector general. That official, fearing criticism and impeachment from the court, ultimately returned to the capital alone to take up his post, entrusting his child to his successor, who had a close relationship with him, to care for. Now, the town has inexplicably lost its kiln manufacturing rights. The inspector general responsible for overseeing kilns for the imperial court is in trouble himself, unable to even save himself, let alone worry about his colleague's illegitimate son. He left some silver and hurried off to the capital to manage his connections.

Unknowingly, he had become a castaway in his own neighborhood. However, life continued as usual; carefree and pleasant. Tian, accompanied by his maidservant, would spend his days strolling outside the town. From year to year, he lived a life of leisure, never once worrying about money.

Every household in Mud Bottle Alley had low yellow earth walls. In fact, neighbors didn't need to raise their heels at all to see what was happening in each other's yards. But whenever Chen Pingan spoke with someone, he always liked to squat on the wall top.

Compared to Chen Ping'an's commonplace name, his neighbor Lin Nü is much more elegant. Song Jixin, even the maid who relies on him for life, has a refined title, Zhi Gui.

At this moment, standing by the wall of the courtyard, there were a pair of almond eyes, timid and shy.

Over by the gate, a voice called out, “Are you selling this maid?”

Song Ji-xin was taken aback, turning her head to follow the sound. It was Jinnian, with a smile in his eyes, standing outside the courtyard, a completely unfamiliar face.

At the edge of Jinnian year stood a tall old man with fair complexion, kind face and slightly squinting eyes, looking at the two adjacent courtyards.

The elder's gaze swept over Chen Pingan without lingering, but lingered on Song Jixin and the maidservant, a smile gradually deepening.

Song Ji-xin squinted and said, "Sell! Why not sell!"

That year, Wei smiled and said, "Then name your price."

With wide, incredulous eyes, he looked like a startled young deer caught off guard.

Song Ji-xin rolled her eyes and held up a finger, shaking it. "Ten thousand taels of silver!"

Jin Nian's face was as usual, he nodded and said, "Good."

Song collected the salary that year and didn't seem to be joking. He quickly changed his words and said, "It's ten thousand taels of gold!"

Jin Nianjiao raised her chin and said, "Just kidding."

Song's face was grave.

Jin Nian no longer paid attention to Song Ji Xin, shifting her gaze to Chen Ping An, “Thank you so much today. Because of you, I was able to buy that carp. The more I look at it, the happier I get. I really wanted to thank you in person, so I asked Wu Ye Ye to bring me here tonight.”

He tossed a heavy embroidered pouch to Chen Ping'an, his face beaming. "This is my reward," he said. "Consider us even now."

Chen Ping'an was about to speak, but Jin Nian had already left.

Chen Ping'an frowned.

During the day, Chen Pingan happened to see a middle-aged man carrying a fish basket walking on the street. He had caught a golden carp about the length of his palm. It was jumping excitedly in the basket. Chen Pingan just glanced at it and felt very happy, so he asked if he could buy it for ten copper coins. The middle-aged man originally just wanted to treat himself, but seeing the opportunity for profit, he sat down and raised the price, demanding thirty copper coins before he would sell it. Chen Pingan didn't have that much spare money in his pocket. He couldn't bear to part with the golden carp either, so he followed the middle-aged man, trying to haggle the price down to fifteen or even twenty copper coins. Just as the middle-aged man showed signs of relenting, Jin Nian and the tall old man happened to walk by. Without a word, they bought the carp and fish basket for fifty copper coins. Chen Pingan could only watch them leave helplessly.

Staring intently at the increasingly distant figures of the grandfather and grandson, Song Jixin retracted his malevolent gaze after a moment, then jumped down from the wall. As if remembering something, he turned to Chen Ping'an and said, "Do you still remember that four-legged creature from New Year's?"

Chen Ping nodded.

How could I forget, it's still fresh in my memory.

According to the local custom passed down for hundreds of years in this town, if a snake enters one's house, it is a good omen and the owner should absolutely not drive it away or kill it. On New Year's Day, Song Jixin was sitting on the doorstep basking in the sun when a small creature commonly known as a four-legged snake slipped into his house right before his eyes. Song Jixin grabbed it and threw it into the yard. Unexpectedly, that battered and bruised four-legged snake, time and again, irritated Song Jixin, who didn't believe in ghosts or gods. In a fit of rage, he flung it into Chen Ping'an's yard. Little did he know, the next day, Song Jixin found that same coiled four-legged snake under his bed.

Song Ji-xin noticed and tugged at her sleeve.

Year and heart have a tacit understanding, subconsciously swallowing the words that had already reached the edge of my lips.

What he meant was that the extremely ugly four-legged snake recently had a bump on its forehead, like a horn growing out of its head.

Song Ji-xin uttered a sentence, "My Zhigui and I might have to leave here next month."

Chen Ping'an sighed, "Be careful on the road."

Song Ji Xinxian said half truly and half falsely, “There are some things I definitely can’t move. Don’t take advantage of my absence to run rampant with my belongings.”

Chen Ping shook his head.

Song Jixi suddenly burst into laughter, poking Chen Ping'an with his finger and said with a smirk: "You're as timid as a mouse, no wonder there are no noble descendants from poor families. Don't say you're just poor and bullied in this life, maybe even next life you can't escape it."

Chen Ping'an remained silent.

Each went back to their own room. Chen Pingan shut the door and lay on the hard wooden bed. The impoverished scholar closed his eyes and whispered softly, “Sui Sui Ping, Sui Sui An, Sui Sui Ping’an, Sui Sui Ping’an…”

(Editor in charge：novel gulliver travels)