Who Exactly Is the Fool?

Who Exactly Is the Fool? In the past, Jiang Man saw a young man standing nervously over a spirit colt lying on the ground, flustered and at a loss. The stable didn't hold only horses; there were other people's mounts in it too. But Jiang Man only had to let Qingyun Pavilion's handful of horses out to graze. As for the other spirit colts, he only helped look after them once in a while. The young man who had shouted for him was a cultivator from the same courtyard as Jiang Man, one he remembered being named Fang Yong. And lying at his feet was an expensive Tread-Flame colt. Its whole body a deep reddish brown, blue cold flames wound about its four hooves; it was said to leave fiery hoofprints when it ran, and once domesticated it would no longer set objects alight. Such a spirit colt was not something anyone but the wealthy could own. Only, at this moment the Tread-Flame colt lay on the ground, twitching weakly. The blue cold flames wound around its hooves were dimming little by little. From the look of it, things weren't good. Seeing Jiang Man come over, Fang Yong looked like a drowning man clutching at a straw. He immediately stepped back, jabbed a finger at him, and accused him: “Jiang Man, what did you do to the Tread-Flame colt? Why would you leave it this weak?” Jiang Man stood where he was, looking at the man before him, rather surprised. So trouble had landed on him? After a little recollection, Jiang Man remembered that this Fang Yong must have come from a fairly well-off family. He was always talking about how great his family was, how abundant its cultivation resources were, how he was friends with so-and-so. So why twist right and wrong like this so readily? Was he shouting that loudly because someone was nearby? Sure enough, a group of four came hurrying over from a distance. The instant he saw them, Fang Yong raised his voice again: “Jiang Man, and to think I trusted you as a fellow courtyard cultivator and specially asked you to look after the spirit colt. Who would have thought you would attack it in secret and leave the Tread-Flame colt this weak.” As his voice fell, the group of four had arrived. The one in front was a tall, slender man with sharply defined features, rather handsome. The three beside him stood at his side, deliberately keeping a step behind. When they came close, Fang Yong at last turned to the man in front and said: “Young Master Cheng, I'm afraid you've had to witness something embarrassing—this fellow disciple of mine let the spirit colt develop a small problem.” Cheng Moyang looked at Jiang Man in some surprise. “Was it you who left my Tread-Flame colt like this?” Jiang Man looked at him and shook his head slightly. “No.” “Looks like he's afraid of taking the blame and won't admit it,” Fang Yong said at once. “He comes from a remote village. He can't even pay next month's cultivation fee. If he admitted it, he probably couldn't pay it off even if he sold himself.” Cheng Moyang's eyes narrowed a little, and he looked at Jiang Man with a smile. “Is that so? Then let the matter drop. Maybe it ate something it shouldn't have. Don't you agree, Young Master Fang?” At that, Fang Yong was secretly delighted, and then he spoke to Jiang Man with an exasperated tone: “Aren't you going to thank Young Master Cheng?” “No need. Who doesn't hit hard times? Today Young Master Fang was the one who rode the Tread-Flame colt out, so he's the one who should see it sent back,” Cheng Moyang said, looking at Fang Yong. Fang Yong nodded at once and said he would certainly send the spirit colt back. After that, Cheng Moyang led his people away. He paused for a moment, as though something had come to him, and asked the man beside him, “By the way, what date is it today?” “Mid-August,” a short man at his side answered. Hearing that, Cheng Moyang suddenly understood. “It must be the Tread-Flame colt's weak period. Happens twice a year.” He paused again and turned to Fang Yong. “Didn't Young Master Fang say his family has spirit colts too? Have you never run into a weak period?” Fang Yong was taken aback. “I suppose I was never there when it was weak. The servants are the ones who look after them.” Cheng Moyang nodded. “That makes sense.” Then he said nothing more and led his people away. On the way out, the short man beside Cheng Moyang asked curiously, “Young Master Cheng, why didn't you take the chance to make that stable hand pay for it?” Cheng Moyang glanced at him and said with a smile, “Didn't you hear Fang Yong? He can't even pay his cultivation fee. Make someone like that pay, and what if he does something reckless out of desperation? Even if he couldn't bring himself to lay hands on us, what if he laid hands on a spirit colt? Is his life worth a single fright given to a spirit colt?” He paused, then continued in a calm voice, “He's just a wild boy from the countryside. Once he's cast out, he doesn't even count as a person. We're too close to him. There's no need to drive him to the end of his rope. And dirty our own hands. Besides, wasn't the point today just to toy with Fang Yong a little? Isn't it more entertaining to see him and a fellow courtyard cultivator go at each other like dogs?” The short man caught on at once. “Yes. If anyone's going to act, it should be someone else. No need for Young Master Cheng to be hated for it. From now on, all we have to do is tell Fang Yong that the so-called weak period was a lie, made up to save his face. After that, be colder to him, don't bring him along when we go out. I expect he'll lay the blame on that stable boy. He'll feel that if only the stable boy had owned up back then, he could have kept following us and being fawned over by the others.” Hearing that, everyone laughed. And so it would become a grudge between Fang Yong and the stable boy. Blaming each other, tearing each other apart. And no blame would come back to them. At that moment, at the edge of the stable, Jiang Man was watching Fang Yong. It seemed he understood something. Fang Yong and those men didn't seem to be the same sort. “This time you got lucky,” Fang Yong said. “If I weren't on good terms with them, you'd be driven out by tonight.” Then he found a way to take the spirit colt away. Jiang Man watched him go and didn't say a word. Only once he was completely gone did a question surface: “So just who is the fool—me, or him?” “Both fools.” The old yellow ox walked over. “You'd better start cultivating, or you won't be able to finish the hundred repetitions.” “Senior, you'd do better to worry about yourself. That immortal maiden's revenge could come at any moment,” Jiang Man kindly reminded him. The old yellow ox didn't seem to care, and said, “It's true the Tread-Flame colt has a weak period. But someone who really knows how to raise them won't let a Tread-Flame colt fall into a weak period at all.” “And you know how, Senior?” “I do.” Jiang Man was rather surprised. “How do you raise them?” “You'd better worry about yourself first. If you don't finish the hundred repetitions, you'll lose all your cultivation,” the old yellow ox said, then turned and went off to graze. Jiang Man: “...” I don't have any cultivation yet. Thinking of that, Jiang Man grew quite curious: if he simply never cultivated, would there be no consequences? But he didn't dare try. There was still that one strand of cultivation-method purple qi, after all. If the fate backlash were to eat away that strand of cultivation-method purple qi, then... Not worth it. He didn't know what use this strand of qi had, but it certainly didn't look simple. After checking the time, Jiang Man headed for the front courtyard. That was where the teacher gave his lessons. Qingyun Pavilion had three courts—front, middle, and back—corresponding to the first, second, and third years inside. Jiang Man was in his third year at Qingyun Pavilion and was now in the back courtyard. The back courtyard had seven small courtyards, and Jiang Man's was the sixth. His instructor was a middle-aged man named Zhao Yueming. Unfortunately, when Jiang Man headed for the sixth courtyard, he ran into the man himself. The moment they met, the other man said bluntly, “You have fifteen days left. If you can't make up the cultivation fee by then, you may as well start packing early.” Jiang Man thought for a moment. What had happened this morning came to mind—maybe he could stay without paying anything. After a brief hesitation, he tested the waters. “Teacher Zhao, do you know about Tread-Flame colts?”