The cicadas had begun to sing in the streets.

In the following days, Song You often kept the door closed and taught Lady Calico to read characters inside the house.

Of course, it wasn’t all day long; that would be too tiring. Song You generally only taught her in the afternoons after lunch, and then took a nap while she practiced.

Each day, he would teach her only a dozen or so characters.

Every time she learned a new character, he would either marvel, praise her, or express disbelief, suspecting she had secretly put in extra effort. In short, every day was different.

When they got to three or four characters, he would stop promptly, reminding her that ordinary people’s energy and intelligence were limited each day. Although Lady Calico was extraordinarily talented, she was not limitless in energy and intelligence. After her strong insistence, he would teach her a bit more.

After finishing the lesson, he would remind her not to study secretly and pretend not to notice if she did.

The shop sign outside was still up. If someone came to the door to ask for help with exorcism or catching rats, they would go. If visitors saw the door closed and didn’t come in, he didn’t feel guilty for not helping; he simply felt that they were not destined to meet and enjoyed another leisurely day.

Spring gradually ended, and summer arrived.

The days grew longer, with more thunderstorms. The leaves on the willow branches became increasingly lush. The sunlight outside the window was so bright it was hard to keep one's eyes open, and people on the street wore shorter and shorter clothing.

Some of the laborers in the city doing hard, exhausting work didn't even bother wearing shirts. With just a cloth strip tied around their bony waists, they were often drenched in sweat.

It already felt like summer.

During these days, Heroine Wu continued her routine of early departures and late returns.

After collecting elm seeds, she would pick pagoda tree flowers.

Sometimes, after buying two jin of meat, she would ask him to cook it and share a meal together. Occasionally, if she came across something along the way that smelled good, she'd buy some to share with them. And when she was in a good mood, she'd seek them out, inviting them to go somewhere nearby or far away to grab an enjoyable bite of snacks.

This heroine sometimes appeared tired, sometimes relaxed, and sometimes carried a bit of a fierce, bloodthirsty aura. Song You didn’t inquire too much; as they had agreed at the beginning, they interacted casually.

He would at most ask her why she invited them to a meal again.

Heroine Wu would grin and tell him that since she chose to wander the

jianghu

, there wouldn't be much good fortune in store for her.

At present in Changjing, her life was constantly threatened in every job she did. It was exhausting and dangerous, and every day she went out not knowing if she would come back. Even if she returned safely, she found it hard to find other things to do, which was quite boring.

As for hobbies and interests, she didn’t have many.

When she was young, she hadn’t tasted much good food, and as she grew up, she didn’t gain much experience. She didn’t understand poetry, music, or tea appreciation; eating was the greatest pleasure of her life.

However, when she was younger, she had no money or ability. She couldn’t afford it, and couldn’t travel far. Now that she could afford it and travel far, she realized that eating alone was not very enjoyable.

Ordering too much meant it would go to waste, and ordering too little meant she couldn’t taste everything. Ordering just right wasn’t very interesting either.

Plus, others often looked at you when you were alone.

In the past, when she was in Changjing with no friends or acquaintances, she would come back every day and fill her stomach with whatever food was available. She would then curl up on the bed on the second floor, and stare at the dark night until she fell asleep. When she woke up, it was already the next morning.

Now, with a friend she could talk to and enjoy meals with, it was only natural that she would invite her friend for a nice meal.

Firstly, she loved to eat.

Secondly, it was a way to comfort herself for her hard work, reward herself for living another day, and celebrate the fact that she was getting closer to the goals she had set when she first came to Changjing.

No matter what, being able to share a good meal with a pleasant, easy-going friend after a day of toil and danger was a truly relaxing thing, even if the friend was quiet and just focused on eating when she was feeling down. She found it very comforting.

It was great. Song You was also quite satisfied with this lifestyle and interaction.

Being able to observe and enjoy without getting too deeply involved, to experience it without feeling tired, was indeed wonderful. He was also pleased with the friendship.

May gradually came.

***

Plums sour on the tongue,

Their tang lingers between teeth.

Bananas just starting to grow,

Green shadows dance on the screen.

Spring fades into summer's light,

Days stretch long, weariness takes flight.

Awake from a nap, boredom's sigh,

Watching children catch willow catkin as it drifts by.

The Daoist put away the brush and looked at the line of words on the paper.

The window on the second floor was still open as the gentle breeze moved the willow branches and brought in a bit of coolness, also carrying the scent of ink to his face.

The little girl leaned on the edge of the desk, stretching her neck to look. Then she looked up at the Daoist, puzzled.

“What’s written here?”

“What words do you recognize?”

“Day, long, children.”

The little girl stood on tiptoe, pointing at each word on the paper. Since the ink was still wet, she dared not touch it, and she pronounced each word slowly.

Finally, she pointed at the word in the bottom left corner and said, “Cat!”

“Lady Calico, you’re impressive.”

“Why don’t I recognize so many words?” The little girl looked up at the Daoist, her eyes wandering with some suspicion.

“Because you haven't learned them yet.”

“You didn’t teach me.”

“There are too many words in this world. Even though you have extraordinary talent, you must learn them one by one slowly, without rushing,” Song You said patiently.

“But I’m very smart.”

“That’s only natural.” Song You smiled slightly and said calmly, “Now, you can write many characters, but have only used willow branches and sandboxes so far. You’ve never tried using a brush and ink. How about you try using a brush to write on paper today and see what it feels like?”

He then handed the brush to the little girl.

The little girl was indeed distracted, her eyes shifting to the paper and brush. Although her expression gave nothing away, she didn't reach out to take the brush but instead said brightly, “Paper costs money!”

“That's okay,” the Daoist said, patting the girl's head. “Perhaps it will become even more valuable because of the words you write on them.”

“I don't understand.”

“Just try.”

“Oh...” The little girl hesitated but then took the brush.

Following the Daoist's instructions, she held the brush and looked at the paper on the desk, then dipped it in ink from the ink stone. She carefully scraped off the excess and began to write.

Two large words appeared on the paper—

Lady Calico

.

Though not beautiful, they were neat and accompanied by several scattered ink splashes of various sizes.

Once finished, she quickly set the brush aside, not daring to write more.

“Very good! You’re still young and have just begun learning. Even on the first attempt, you’ve shown great promise. With time, how impressive you will become!”

“...!” The little girl didn't speak or show any expression; her face revealed nothing of her inner thoughts. But if she had a tail, it would surely be perked up.

The Daoist allowed the ink to dry and carefully stored the paper.

Indeed, not only was paper expensive, but this ink was also the rare and precious Congealed Fragrance ink of the Yidu era, seldom used even by him until today.

No matter how expensive the paper and ink were, they were mere carriers for the characters. Nothing could compare to the first line of characters written by Lady Calico.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door.

“

Knock, knock, knock

...”

The Daoist and the little girl went downstairs. When he opened the door, a young servant was standing there.

The servant, upon seeing him, quickly bowed.

“Greetings, sir.”

“No need for such formalities,” Song You responded with a bow of his own, noticing the sweat on the servant’s face. “What brings you here?”

“Do you handle exorcisms of evil spirits and demons?”

“Of course.” Song You pointed to the sign on the door.

“My master heard of your skills from others and specifically sent me to request your assistance,” the servant said. “If it’s convenient for you, could you come with me? My master will surely reward you handsomely.”

“Where does your master live?”

“At the junction of Eastern District and Western District. It’s not far away.”

“And what is the issue?”

“My master has been troubled lately, waking up in the middle of the night as if being watched. We’ve requested for the consecrated artifact from Tianhai Temple, yet it hasn’t helped,” the servant said with a look of concern. “My master is prideful, so I can’t elaborate further. If it’s convenient for you, please come and take a look.”

“Alright.” Song You looked up at the scorching sun. Though he was reluctant to go out, he agreed.

He then turned to the little girl behind him and said, “The sun is strong outside, and it’s quite hot. Since there’s no one else at home, please stay here and guard the house, making sure no idle people sneak in and steal anything. Also, Lady Calico, please be mindful of balancing work and rest. Your practice should be moderate; with your talent, you can write beautifully without needing to practice twice as much.”

“Okay!” The little girl glanced at the Daoist and agreed with her words, but in her heart, she had already decided to practice secretly.

How could she not practice more?

The so-called exceptional talent was a result of her own hard work. The Daoist didn’t know that, so he thought her talent was extraordinary. What if one day she stopped practicing and he thought her talent had suddenly declined?

That simply wouldn’t do!

The Daoist, naturally unaware of her intentions, softly said to the servant, “Please lead the way.”

“Certainly, certainly. Please follow me.” The servant, respectfully bowing, led the way.

Along the way, he spoke in a low voice about his master, as if afraid passersby might overhear.

His master was a military officer responsible for the defense of the capital, in the prime of life.

One would expect such a military officer to be adept in martial arts, immune to demons and ghosts as well as other evil entities. Yet, recently, he had been restless and often felt as though someone was watching him while he slept.

A reputable military officer, worried about ghosts in his home and evil spirits possessing his body, would likely be laughed at if he spoke of it. Hence, he was reluctant to seek out well-known experts. Instead, he had heard of a young man who had recently come to the capital and, though not widely known, seemed to have some skill. So he decided to invite him for a consultation.

Song You followed the servant into the courtyard. The courtyard was not large and was located in a modest area. Indeed, living comfortably in the capital was not easy.

Upon stepping into the courtyard, Song You looked around but did not detect any signs of dark yin qi.

Soon, the host came out to greet him.

As expected, he was a robust military officer. In summer, he dressed casually at home, and his thin clothes could hardly conceal his muscular physique. He was at an age where his qi and lifeforce was in its prime, and such a warrior would likely keep ordinary spirits at bay. Even if he couldn’t slay common demons with one strike of his sword, they would probably avoid confronting him!

This was indeed the case. Song You squinted and saw nothing unusual about the host.

That was until he entered the host’s bedroom.

On the wall hung a painting. In the painting, the figure was fully armored, tall and strong. Riding a horse and holding a long spear, the figure looked lifelike. Gazing at it, one felt its vitality, as if the figure might leap out of the painting and charge forward to skewer anyone in its path, pinning them to the door behind.

The person in the painting was none other than the military officer before him.