The only good thing about his rebirth was that his limbs were now nimble, and he could jump about. Fan Xian was gratified by this realization. Those who had not suffered from his disease would probably find it difficult to feel this kind of happiness. He comforted himself by thinking that perhaps this was a gift from God.
It took him four whole years to figure out this problem. Since he had the chance to live again, why not live it to the fullest? Since God had bestowed a new life upon him, if he did not live it well, would that not be disrespecting God? For example, since he could move now, why not move more?
So all the servants in the Count's manor knew that this young master, born of a concubine, was someone who could not sit still.
"Young master, I beg of you, come down quickly."
At that moment, Fan Xian was sitting at the highest point of the artificial mountain in the courtyard, looking at the distant horizon with a smile.
But in the eyes of the servant girl, a four-year-old child had climbed to such a high place, and had such a mature smile. It was obvious that the little fellow had lost his mind.
Gradually, more and more people gathered at the foot of the artificial mountain. Seven or eight servants surrounded the mountain anxiously.
Although Count Sinan was appreciated by His Majesty, his rank was not high, and his official position was not high. He did not have much income, and even if he did, he could not possibly spend it all on his mother and illegitimate child. As a result, there were not many servants in the Count's estate.
Fan Xian looked at the anxious faces of the people at the foot of the artificial mountain and could not help but sigh. He obediently climbed down. "It's just a little exercise. What's the rush?"
The servants had long since become accustomed to their young master's strange habit of imitating the way adults speak. They took him in their arms and went to take a bath.
When Fan Xian came out, his lips red, his teeth white, his body fragrant and tender, the servant girl picked him up again. Smiling, she caressed his face and teased, "Young master, you are born like a young lady from another family. Who knows which young lady will live a good life in the future?"
Stupidly, Fan Xian didn't respond. He wasn't going to use the mouth of a four-year-old to tease a teenage servant girl. He didn't want to do such a tasteless thing. He would wait until he was six before he began this great and challenging work.
"It's time to take a nap, little ancestor."
The maid patted the little fellow's buttocks. They had always found it strange that although the young master of the count's estate was young and had begun to show signs of naughtiness, he had always maintained the self-discipline and hard work of an adult.
For example, taking a nap.
Anyone who had a normal childhood would always remember the glorious deeds of how they fought against the demons who forced them to sleep under the bright and beautiful noontime sun.
Some of the demons called him father, some called him mother, and some called him teacher.
But Young Master Fan Xian was the kind of person who never needed to be forced to take a nap. Every noon, he would put on his most adorable and innocent smile, obediently return to his bedroom, and begin to sleep. He would not make a sound in the middle of it all.
At first, Madam Dowager didn't believe it and asked the maids to keep an eye on the little fellow. She thought that he was using sleeping as an excuse to fool around on the bed. However, after watching him for half a year, she found that the child was really in a deep sleep every time. Even shouting at him was difficult to wake him up.
From then on, the maids no longer paid attention to this matter. Whenever he slept, they would usually keep watch outside.
It was summer, and the maids were naturally very tired. They tilted their bodies and gently waved the little fans in their hands. Occasionally, a firefly would dance in the wind.
…
…
Returning to his bedroom, Fan Xian climbed onto the bed and lifted the mat covering it. He carefully took out a book from a hidden compartment he had dug out from underneath.
The cover of the book was slightly yellow, and it looked a little old, but there was not a single word on it. However, there were some patterns embroidered on the corners of the book that represented some unknown meaning. Every stroke was curled up at the end, like a flowing cloud, or like the corner of a wide sleeve that had a rather ancient charm.
He gently flipped open the book to the seventh page. There was a drawing of a naked man, with some faint red lines on his body. He didn't know what kind of paint had been used to draw them, but it gave the viewer the illusion that these lines were slowly flowing in a certain direction.
Fan Shen sighed. His appearance was only that of a four-year-old, so he didn't dare reveal too much of his true nature. Fortunately, he had this book to help him pass the time of extreme boredom.
This book had been left to him by a blind youth named Wu Zhu when he was very young.
Fan Shen had always remembered that blind youth, the servant of his mother in this world.
When he had been trapped in the body of a small infant, he had spent time in the arms of that youth. They had traveled from the capital to this port by the sea. Perhaps the youth had thought that he was too young to remember anything. But Fan Shen's soul was not that of an ignorant infant. Along the way, he could tell that the blind youth's care for the infant came from his heart, and could not be faked.
But for some reason, after the blind youth had taken Fan Shen to Count Sinan's manor, he had left. No matter how much the Countess had tried to persuade him to stay, he had not.
Before he left, he had placed the book next to the infant's body.
Fan Shen had always been puzzled about this. Was the servant not afraid that he would blindly practice? When he thought about it, he realized the reason. He was a child, and there was no way he could recognize the words in the book. Naturally, he was not afraid of any problems.
But Fan Shen just so happened to recognize the words of this world. After the great changes of his rebirth, he was even convinced of ghosts and immortals. He was even more convinced that the book before him, which looked like a prop from a Hong Kong TV series, was some kind of zhenqi training method.
It was a pity that it did not have a name. Otherwise, he could go to the children on the street and ask them if this zhenqi training method was powerful or not.
Thinking of this, Fan Shen laughed foolishly. Since the wretched heavens had given him a second chance, he had to cherish it. This internal force was something that did not exist in his previous world. Even if the nameless breathing method before him was nothing special, he could not stop himself from practicing it at the age of one.
One must know that this was only a few realms lower than if one had started training in the womb.
Everyone in the world, including the great grandmasters who were worshipped as gods, could not be like Fan Shen, no matter how talented they were. They could not start practicing internal zhenqi from birth.
What was this called? The early bird catches the worm. The clumsy bird flies first.
Furthermore, he could not be more stupid than those youths who had just begun to learn martial arts, could he?
As Fan Shen thought about this, the zhenqi, which he could already feel, began to flow through his body, following the lines drawn in the book. It was a very comfortable feeling, as if a warm stream of water was cleansing every inch of his internal organs.
Gradually, he entered a meditative state and fell asleep comfortably on the bed.
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