Chapter Twenty-Five: The Test

(Today I returned late from a wedding banquet… and there’s more tonight… If you like the story, please support it, many thanks from Southern Dynasty!)

“Master, I sense the righteous energy in your writing is growing weaker...”

That night, after supper, Chen Jianchen retreated to his study to practice calligraphy. This time, he silently transcribed a poem:

“From the depths of the mountains, hammered and chiseled a thousand times,
Burned by fierce fire as if it were nothing;
Shattered and broken, I do not fear—
I wish only to leave my purity in this world!”

His brushwork flowed elegantly, capturing the essence of the poem. Suddenly, Yingning, who had been hiding atop the bookshelf, poked her head out and handed him a slip of paper with these words.

Chen Jianchen was startled—he had only enlisted Yingning’s help to conduct an experiment, testing the effectiveness of the Evil-Repelling Brush. He hadn’t expected this result.

The little white fox dared to show herself and face the calligraphy directly, which spoke volumes.

So where did the problem lie?

Was it something within himself? Was it because of the characters? Or had Yingning developed some resistance?

Chen Jianchen sat upright in deep thought. To get to the bottom of it, he wrote out three more pieces. Unexpectedly, matters worsened—the righteous energy in the ink diminished with each attempt, and in the end, Yingning could approach within three feet without the slightest fear.

This was not good!

Chen Jianchen inwardly exclaimed and stopped at once—by now, he had surmised the crux of the issue. It seemed the righteous energy obtained through the Evil-Repelling Brush was not limitless. If the brush could be likened to a vessel, it contained a fixed quantity of righteous energy, which, for certain reasons, would gradually decrease with use, and if never replenished, would eventually be depleted.

This was troublesome.

After all, a gun without bullets is no better than scrap iron.

He tapped his fingers on the table and recalled that whenever he wrote with the Evil-Repelling Brush, the righteous energy would infuse the ink, though rarely triggered; yet its loss was undeniable. Between writing couplets for others, practicing calligraphy, and so forth, the brush had surely produced several hundred, perhaps a thousand characters.

So, had the brush’s righteous energy nearly run out?

The more he thought, the closer he came to the answer. He remembered: only when the righteous energy in the ink was activated, creating a tangible effect, would the brush’s bristles undergo transformation—becoming crystal clear and pure white.

Yes, that explained all the phenomena.

Having reasoned it through, Chen Jianchen regretted his previous reckless overuse of the Evil-Repelling Brush.

“What’s wrong with me? Why am I suddenly so anxious?”

He was shocked—ever since he had uncovered the brush’s secret, his state of mind had subtly changed, no longer as composed as before.

This was not a good sign.

Appearance follows the heart; when the mind is chaotic and anxious, one may make poor decisions—whose consequences, great or small, light or heavy, are often avoidable.

He took a deep breath, picked up another brush, and swiftly wrote a single character over and over:

“Calm!”

As the ink flowed onto the paper, his agitation seemed to bleed away, and his mood settled.

These characters held no righteous energy, so Yingning could approach and observe without concern. She tilted her head, contemplating the dozen “Calm” characters, thinking perhaps the master’s mood was unstable, which had greatly weakened the energy in his writing.

“Master, don’t worry...”

Yingning wrote her own characters and pushed them before Chen Jianchen.

He smiled and said, “I know my limits.”

The night passed in silence.

In the following days, many arrived to hunt the wolf, but there was no news of the black wolf. It seemed the evil creature sensed danger and quietly disappeared.

What a cunning beast!

Some skilled yet dissatisfied hunters formed teams, venturing into the depths of Maple Mountain. They managed to kill two wolves, but both were small with grey fur. When they brought the carcasses to the wealthy Wang family to claim their reward, they were not acknowledged.

Everyone knew the menace was a giant black wolf.

During these days, Yingning stayed in Chen Jianchen’s study, meditating to heal her internal injuries, slowly recovering. She drank only clear water, never feeling hungry. It wasn’t true fasting, but as her cultivation deepened, her need for food diminished greatly.

Once she had healed, Yingning announced she would return to Maple Mountain to gather information.

Chen Jianchen did not object. Given Yingning’s current abilities, she might not defeat the wolf demon, but she could protect herself. So that night, when all was quiet, Yingning bade farewell and slipped out the window.

Agile and clever, she avoided the ground, traveling across rooftops. Occasionally, she roused the guard dogs, who barked a few times, but soon lost her scent and returned to their kennels, dejected.

Watching Yingning vanish into the night, Chen Jianchen gently closed the window, leaving a narrow crack.

Tonight, there was no snow. The faint, chill moonlight filtered through the gap, illuminating Chen Jianchen’s upright figure. He stood for a while, then paced back to the desk, sat down, and picked up the Evil-Repelling Brush—though he held the brush for a long time without writing.

Knock, knock!

A moment later, Abao entered, carrying a steaming bowl of porridge—Chen Jianchen’s late-night snack. Since Abao had joined the household, she’d made porridge every evening for him.

Without doubt, Chen Jianchen’s household had grown more prosperous since he became a scholar; their meals had improved significantly.

His appetite was enormous—three large bowls each meal, plus snacks. In earlier days, such a diet would have bankrupted the family, no matter how tirelessly Mo Third Mother wove cloth. But poor nutrition would have harmed him as well.

Thus, Chen Jianchen sought ways to earn more to help support the family and ease their burdens.

The saying goes, “A scholar is useless”—before passing the provincial exam, unable to carry loads or lift anything, full of empty classical phrases and hollow scholarship.

Chen Jianchen refused to be such a scholar; his vision was broader, and he sought innovation—training his body on one hand, and exploring the secrets of righteous energy on the other. Realizing that the brush’s energy would dwindle and eventually vanish with use gave him a sense of crisis—relying solely on external tools was unsustainable.

Ultimately, one must depend on their own abilities.

Principles are grand, but they must be demonstrated through skill; otherwise, they are rootless trees and water without source—empty talk that convinces no one.

As Chen Jianchen drank his porridge in great gulps, Abao sat nearby, content to watch. When he finished, she quickly cleared the bowl and utensils and took them away to wash.

Afterward, feeling invigorated, Chen Jianchen spread fresh paper and resumed practicing calligraphy. He did not use the Evil-Repelling Brush, but an ordinary one—

The best steel should be used on the sharpest blade; the Evil-Repelling Brush was reserved for confronting the wolf demon. Especially now, he couldn’t afford to waste it. He believed that once Yingning returned, this matter would reach its conclusion.