Fang Huaiqing weakly cursed, "Pervert."

Liang Hecheng's critical illness notice was issued. As expected, both master and disciple were incomparably calm, as if that thin piece of paper wasn't a forecast of death, but just an ordinary morning paper.

Ji Shenyu peeled an apple, not even raising an eyebrow as he did so. Used to a carving knife, this fruit knife felt dull. Liang Hecheng lay flat, his head of withered hair like a bird's nest. He said, "Give me a haircut."

Ji Shenyu grunted in acknowledgment, his hands not stopping.

Liang Hecheng said again, "A change of clothes. I want the black satin jacket."

Ji Shenyu replied, "I'll go back and get it this afternoon."

Liang Hecheng said in a low voice, "No need to be in such a hurry. I probably won't die right away."

Ji Shenyu paused for a moment, then peeled even faster. After the skin, he carved away at the flesh, tormenting it layer by layer until it disintegrated. A change of clothes? Won't die? This was sending him to get burial clothes, hinting that it was time to prepare the funeral arrangements.

Those few words almost cut off Liang Hecheng's weak breathing. He paused for a long time. "Stop peeling. You're not going to carve a flower out of it, are you?"

Ji Shenyu's faint brows knitted. His wrist flicked back and forth, and holding the apple, he carved out a jasmine flower in mere seconds. When he was done, peel and scraps littered the floor. He finally looked up, staring blankly at Liang Hecheng.

"Master, you don't need to worry," Ji Shenyu said. "You're not an old man with no one to look after you. You have a disciple. I will prepare the funeral arrangements, and I'll make sure they are both decent and proper."

His sun was setting. The living would do their best to see him off, and after that, they would welcome the suns of the days to come.

Master and disciple were silent for a moment. Suddenly, someone appeared outside the ward—a man in black clothes with a pale face. It was Fang Huaiqing. The door was pushed open. Fang Huaiqing walked in but did not draw near. He just stood there, gazing at the old man on the bed.

Liang Hecheng's cloudy eyes opened slightly. He thought his vision was blurred. Only after a long moment did he confirm that this wasn't a dream, but his disciple with whom he had severed all ties. His gaze moved downwards, and he strained to peer into Fang Huaiqing's sleeves, desperate to know if those hands were still there.

Ji Shenyu said deliberately, "You came empty-handed."

Fang Huaiqing said, "It's not like a couple of pounds of fruit would make a difference. Besides, I have no hands to carry them with."

Those murky old eyes instantly went dark, all hope extinguished. Liang Hecheng gasped for breath, his swollen abdomen preventing him from turning over. "No hands..." he muttered, then mumbled softly, and then whispered almost inaudibly, "No hands... they're useless now."

Fang Huaiqing finally approached slowly. He had no intention of recounting his ordeal, the sins he committed, or the consequences he had borne. The old man was critically ill; he couldn't save him, but he couldn't let it go either. So he just came to take a look.

And to apologize.

Moving to the bedside, Fang Huaiqing knelt on the spot. The scent of medicine lingered in the air, and his gaze met the old man's sallow face. His lips parted and closed, a helpless, bitter smile forming. "Can I still call you that?"

Liang Hecheng pounded the bed in grief. "Then what did you come here for?! To laugh at me?!"

Color finally returned to Fang Huaiqing's pale face, gathering as a flush at the corners of his eyes before turning into two streams of tears that dripped onto the bedsheet. "Master," he said, his voice as faint as a thread. "Master, I have been unfilial."

Liang Hecheng shot him a glance filled with hatred and anger. Yesterday's betrayal was still vivid in his mind, and he was utterly heartbroken. The pain from his tumor was nothing compared to this bastard. Treachery, greed clouding the mind... if it had at least been exchanged for wealth and glory, then so be it. But what was this? A ruined reputation and the loss of a pair of hands!

The old man couldn't hit or curse; his half-dead body couldn't even withstand a towering rage. Ji Shenyu rushed over to help him breathe, spooning warm water to his lips. He struggled to sit up halfway and breathed out a single word—"Hands."

Fang Huaiqing could no longer hold it in. His cold expression crumbled, and he began to wail. He leaned over the bed, and his empty sleeve cuff was seized by Liang Hecheng, held tightly, then abruptly released. Liang Hecheng's six fingers probed into his sleeve opening. He froze, not daring to dodge, allowing the other to touch his wrist stumps.

Rough scars. The hands that painted people, immortals, and famous mountains and great rivers were gone, leaving only rough scars!

Ji Shenyu's heart ached, and he shed tears along with the wailing. An ordinary person would find it hard to accept becoming disabled, let alone a craftsman. A pair of miraculous hands with immense skill, able to trace in gold and outline in silver, able to fire porcelain and make pottery—in the end, they were chopped off, had rotted away, and were buried.

Fang Huaiqing kowtowed in grief, admitting his wrongs before his benevolent master could die with resentment in his heart.

While Ji Shenyu was here helping Liang Hecheng fulfill his last wish, Ding Hanbai and Tong Peifan were rushing about day and night. That night, Ji Shenyu and Ding Hanbai met at a street corner, walked side by side to the main gate, and sat down together on the threshold.

Large red lanterns hung high, making even these chaotic times seem peaceful.

Ding Hanbai put an arm around Ji Shenyu's shoulder and said, "Today, Brother Tong and I went to Tong Village. We've decided to still use that old kiln, expand it a bit, and recruit workers from among the villagers."

Ji Shenyu asked, "That sounds like it went smoothly. Why do you look so worried?"

Ding Hanbai said, "Brother Tong only verbally agreed to the partnership; it hasn't been finalized in a contract yet. And that feral senior brother of yours seems unwilling. I'm afraid it will cause Brother Tong to have second thoughts."

Ji Shenyu was silent for a moment, then leaned in to coax Ding Hanbai, "It shouldn't matter whether that feral senior brother is willing or not, right? He can't hold up someone else's career and future. Dearest senior brother, when we go to Tong Village tomorrow, I'll help you ask."

Taking advantage of there being no one around, he practically threw himself onto Ding Hanbai. Ding Hanbai held him, gave him a peck, and slid a hand into his collar to knead the back of his neck. "Are you still going to learn to drive when we go back to Tong Village? Still going to have a fit and step into the river?"

The memory resurfaced, and Ji Shenyu retorted sarcastically, "If I step in the river again, will you still throw away the jacket you use to wipe my feet?"

Ding Hanbai said, "Of course I will."

After saying that, he got up and ran!

Ji Shenyu chased after him relentlessly. Throw it away? Did he think his feet were dirty? That night, he had carried his legs, let him step on his shoulders, and looked as if he wanted to suck a flower onto his very ankle. Through screen walls and long corridors, crossing houses and courtyards, this dear enemy of his used his height and long legs to disappear without a trace. The moment Ji Shenyu entered the archway, he was scooped up, swaying and laughing, enjoying a wonderful time making a ruckus in the pitch-black courtyard.

Strictly speaking, Ji Shenyu was not yet seventeen, but he had already been devoured by Ding Hanbai, flesh and bone. From head to toe, inside and out, not a single spot was spared; he was thoroughly pinned down and bullied.

Ding Hanbai didn't consider himself an upright gentleman, but when he met Ji Shenyu's eyes and encountered his delicate skin and tender flesh, he was willing to admit to being frivolous and dissolute.

After half a night of indulgence, on the way to Tong Village the next day, Ji Shenyu lay in the back seat and slept soundly the entire way. With the slightest bump, he would whine delicately for a good while.

That porcelain kiln had been tidied up and transformed. It wasn't brand new inside and out, but it was starting to look the part. After parking and turning off the engine, Ding Hanbai said, "I brought the contract. In a moment, you distract Fang Huaiqing, and I'll talk to Brother Tong alone."

Ji Shenyu slowly sat up. "I brought a bag of pistachios. At worst, I'll just crack the nuts for him."

Ding Hanbai didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So that was his only trick. Ji Shenyu said no more, got out of the car, and went straight to the firebox to have a look. From now on, he would fire porcelain here. He could finally make porcelain.

When Tong Peifan and Fang Huaiqing arrived, Ding Hanbai went with Tong Peifan to check on the expansion, while Ji Shenyu and Fang Huaiqing slipped into the office. The room was narrow, and the two sat across a desk from each other, still as distant as strangers.

Ji Shenyu said, "Senior Brother, this Tong kiln will be completed any day now. It's a good thing Brother Tong has a house in the village, so you two won't have to endure the bumpy journey anymore."

Fang Huaiqing said, "The completion is your senior brother's business, it has nothing to do with Tong Peifan. He hasn't signed or pressed his thumbprint on anything. Even if he did, it has nothing to do with me. We are not grasshoppers tied to the same string."

Ji Shenyu pondered for a moment, then asked, "Senior Brother, do you know a lot about stones?" Receiving a negative answer, he was a bit confused. Tong Peifan had been dealing in stones in recent years, but Fang Huaiqing knew nothing about them. That meant the two had no working relationship. With no partnership and no ability to survive on his own, why was Tong Peifan taking such meticulous care of Fang Huaiqing, and even listening to his opinions?

He said, "Senior Brother, perhaps you and Brother Tong are very close. He's taking care of you now so you have no worries, but in the future, when Brother Tong gets married, has children, and establishes his own family and career, he won't be able to look after you." He understood that Fang Huaiqing had frequented this kiln in the past, and his hands had surely produced many treasures. Now they were ruined, so he was unwilling to be hurt by the familiar scene.

"What will you do then, all by yourself?" he said. "Let Brother Tong and my senior brother partner up. You can help out here, too. At least the money you earn will allow you to live a good life."

Fang Huaiqing retorted, "Your senior brother can manage it on his own, and you're even more skilled in the art of firing porcelain. Why do you insist on clinging to us?"

Ji Shenyu replied, "To be honest, running the kiln is only part of it. What my senior brother wants to do is far more than this, and he can't focus his main energy here."

Fang Huaiqing didn't reply. He stared at Ji Shenyu motionlessly, and after a long moment, a sinister smile spread across his lips. "Junior Brother, aren't you tired, trying to persuade me while stalling for time?" He paused, his voice sounding ethereal. "Your senior brother is already getting Tong Peifan to sign the contract, isn't he? There's no need for this. Whether I'm willing or not is my business. He has hands and feet; how could he be influenced by a cripple like me?"

With a bang, the door was thrown open. Tong Peifan came in holding a contract. Party A was stamped with Ding Hanbai's seal, but Party B had not yet signed. He walked over to Fang Huaiqing and crouched down, his gaze accusatory.

"You bastard," he said. He had heard everything.

Ding Hanbai also came in, making the small office feel even more cramped. He closed the door and said, "You two are not related by blood or marriage. One flees for his life to seek refuge, and the other dares to take him in and care for him. You rescue him, provide for him, and even consult him on your future. Brother Tong, are you the reincarnation of Guanyin?"

Fang Huaiqing looked at him. "You're much more direct than this junior brother of mine. What else do you want to say?"

Ding Hanbai added, "Brother Tong, at your age, you're still not talking about marriage and don't want children. Aren't you anxious?"

These words seemed subtle, but in reality, they were a blatant hint. Ji Shenyu looked at Ding Hanbai in astonishment, then turned to look at the other two. His head swiveled back and forth like a pellet drum.

Tong Peifan said, "This bastard can't get pregnant. What can I do about it?"

His words exploded like a firecracker thrown by a child outside. Fang Huaiqing's pale cheeks flushed red, and his body couldn't help but tremble. Lying in a pool of his own blood had just been painful; this was being stripped naked for public humiliation, nailed to a pillar of shame.

Ji Shenyu wasn't doing much better. He could never have imagined this kind of relationship between the two men, and he froze, unable to react. Ding Hanbai walked over, pulled him along, and led him out of the kiln, all the way to the riverbank.

In the office, Tong Peifan reached out and touched Fang Huaiqing's face. It was hot and delicate, and he couldn't bring himself to pull his hand back. Fang Huaiqing's eyelashes trembled, and he laughed coldly through his tears. "Even for someone who sells their ass, a client would at least grant them a loincloth for modesty. You're truly heartless."

Tong Peifan laughed along with him. "Me, heartless? I took a risk to take you in. I feed you, give you drink, dress you, and help you wash up. Me, heartless? I can do whatever I want with this crippled body of yours, but tell me, has there ever been a time you didn't feel good? Even a cat in heat can't cry out like you do!"

Fang Huaiqing weakly cursed, "Pervert."

Tong Peifan admitted, "This pervert is hung up on you and you alone." He placed the contract on Fang Huaiqing's lap. "From now on, I'll look after this kiln. If you're willing, you can come with me. If not, just wait for me to get off work at home."

Fang Huaiqing's eyes were red. "If I come, I'll have to face those two and let them laugh at me for being fucked by you?"

This was his agreement to sign. Tong Peifan took out a pen, signed, then stood up and leaned close to the other's ear, saying with satisfaction, "Ding Hanbai and that junior brother of yours are also having a secret affair. Neither of us should laugh at the other."

The two people having their own secret affair stood by the small river, letting the breeze blow over them. The ripples on the water were endless, and Ji Shenyu grew more and more flustered. Turning his head, he met Ding Hanbai's carefree expression and asked, "Why are you so happy?"

Ding Hanbai spoke frankly, "Of all the gossip in the world, tales of love, hate, and private affairs are the most fascinating. Add to that the pleasures of the boudoir, and how could it not be interesting?" Besides, a riverbank, a small wood—places like these with their suggestive atmosphere could only make him fantasize about some indecent spring scenes, so of course he was happy.

When the four of them met up again, two acted as if nothing had happened, while the other two were beet-red. It was clear at a glance who was shy and who was shameless.

The partnership was thus settled. On the eighth day of the Lunar New Year, when the holiday for working people ended, the Tong kiln also officially began operations.

But blessings do not come in pairs. Liang Hecheng's life was now hanging by a thread.

In the hospital room, Ji Shenyu brought the black satin jacket and new cotton trousers, changing Liang Hecheng into them one by one. The old man's feet were so swollen he couldn't wear shoes, so they had to be left bare. Ding Hanbai waited by the side, constantly looking toward the door. He had notified Zhang Sinian, but Zhang Sinian hadn't come.

"Master, have a bite." Ji Shenyu held a bowl of tangyuan. He knew the old man wouldn't make it to the Lantern Festival.

Liang Hecheng struggled to eat a little, then said with his withered lips, "Little Fang..." He had heard about the partnership and warned, "You must be on your guard against him. If he reverts to his old ways, don't let him hurt you."

Ji Shenyu nodded. "Master, I know."

Liang Hecheng continued, "The things at home, destroy or sell them. If you want to remember me by, keep one or two pieces, but get rid of the rest." The things he had spent a lifetime creating, he now cast aside like worn-out shoes. "What does a disciple fear most? Living in his master's shadow. Losing me isn't losing your support; it's the time for you to stand on your own two feet."

In the last moments of his life, all the master thought about was his disciple.

Ji Shenyu, who had been composed just a moment ago, felt a sting in his nose and could no longer hold back his tears.

"In all the three hundred and sixty trades, there's only so much to learn in each one. If you want to specialize and become an expert, you must continuously practice and explore on your own. You... it's only a matter of time before you achieve greatness." Liang Hecheng's strength faded, and his eyes became wooden, unmoving.

The air seemed to freeze. No one made a sound.

The seconds ticked by. The dying man and those seeing him off were locked in a stalemate.

Ding Hanbai said, "Zhenzhu, let Master Liang go in peace."

Ji Shenyu leaned close to Liang Hecheng's ear and, in a steady voice, recited the key principles: "The vessel must be upright, the glaze must be even..."

The old man let out a rattling breath, slowly closed his eyes, and muttered, "The vessel must be upright, the glaze must be even, the color must be true, the mark must be studied..." The skills he had devoted his life to accompanied him to its very end. His voice grew faint, then fell silent.

Ji Shenyu brought Liang Hecheng's body back to Miao'an Alley that very night, hung a white funeral banner, and arranged for the funeral. He held a wake for two days, during which some neighbors came to offer condolences, but it was only some neighbors.

The funeral procession was held early on the third day. Before the coffin was even carried out, a tricycle loaded with antique vases was moved out. Neighbors stood in the alley watching and whispering. One cart, then two... after the third cart was pulled away, their hushed gasps turned into loud exclamations of awe.

Ding Hanbai said, "There are still some left. You should keep them."

Ji Shenyu, wearing a mourning cloth, nodded. He then raised the famille-rose bowl the deceased had used for drinking water and smashed it—the ritual "invitation basin." The crowd helped carry the coffin. After they left the alley and were preparing to load it onto the hearse, a commotion arose among the onlookers.

"Excuse me, excuse me... Everyone make way!"

The crowd parted, and Zhang Sinian rushed out, clutching an old bag. His eyes immediately fixed on the ebony coffin. He walked a little closer and, in front of everyone, shouted, "Six-Fingers!"

Ji Shenyu, his hand on the coffin, said, "Master, Blind Zhang is here."

The crowd was surprised and curious, not knowing if this was a friend or a foe. Zhang Sinian glanced around, saw the three cartloads of wares, and yelled, "—Six-Fingers! You just left like this? Who am I going to compete with from now on?!"

He suddenly burst into laughter. "How many things did you make in your life? They're all fucking fakes. Since you're leaving, I'll add a few real ones for you today! You can't take them to heaven, can't stuff them into the underworld, so just listen to the sound they make!"

Zhang Sinian pulled a vase from his old bag and, before anyone could get a clear look, smashed it fiercely onto the ground. Porcelain shards flew everywhere with a loud crash. Ding Hanbai announced loudly, "A Gilt Ball Flower Vase!"

Zhang Sinian smashed another one. Ding Hanbai continued, "A Blue-and-white Octagonal Vine Bowl!"

He smashed three or four pieces in one go, scattering the ground with porcelain fragments worth hundreds of thousands. Zhang Sinian was sacrificing his treasured collection for this Six-Fingers, for his only rival whose skill was a match for his own. After smashing them, he zipped up his old bag, turned, and left.

He was like a madman on a stage, letting the surrounding fools, who didn't understand the situation, speculate as they pleased. He thought, 'I've lost out this time.' That fellow Liang had died one step ahead of him. When it was his time to depart this world, who besides his disciple would come to see him off?

No one was worthy!

The hearse moved slowly through the streets, and once it reached the end, it headed for the crematorium without looking back. Within half a day, it was ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Ji Shenyu was utterly exhausted after handling everything, and when he and Ding Hanbai got home, he collapsed onto the bed.

He crawled over to the window, pushed it open, and glanced at the sky.

Ding Hanbai stood behind him. "Master Liang's sixth finger always stuck out. It was softer than his other fingers."

Ji Shenyu asked in a daze, "You've touched it?"

Ding Hanbai said, "That night you were crying by his bed, he reached out his hand to me, and I touched it."

Hidden in that outstretched hand was a slip of paper, folded several times, the handwriting mottled. Ding Hanbai wrapped his arms around Ji Shenyu, held his hands up in front of them, and gently unfolded it. Against the sky, a last message was revealed.

—Treat my disciple well, I would be endlessly grateful.

He rode away on a white crane, departing without any lingering wishes.

The author has something to say: Liang Hecheng: That damn Zhang, even my death is an occasion for you to show off. I've lost again!