A Dream of Transmigration

Chapter 39

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Whether it was due to Chu Ying's medicinal power or her own strong resistance, Lin Feifei felt much better when she woke up the next day, and the day after that, she was walking around on the street again, full of energy.

Flags fluttered in the breeze, shops lined the streets, and vendors sold their wares. Even more remarkable were the extraordinary individuals from all corners of the land who displayed their skills, from body measurement to cockfighting and horse racing.

Lin Feifei looked around, finding everything incredibly novel. She was still dressed in men's clothing today, and walking down the street, she was in no way inferior to those spoiled young masters.

A small stall on the side of the street.

Lin Feifei had already walked several meters when she suddenly stopped.

After a while.

She slowly turned around, and after seeing what was on the stall clearly, she immediately ran back with delight.

"Oh dear, the fan!"

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Sure enough, there was a rare folding fan on the stall. The snow-white fan surface was undecorated, but the workmanship was not rough.

Lin Feifei was both happy and puzzled. In TV dramas, she often saw young noblemen and princes holding folding fans, looking elegant and refined, with bamboo or plum blossoms painted on the fans. But why had she never seen a single person holding one in all the time she had been in ancient times?

She didn't know that folding fans originated in Japan. Although they were introduced to China a long time ago, they were not as good as traditional round fans in terms of ventilation and cooling. In addition, the art of calligraphy and painting on fan surfaces only became popular in the Ming Dynasty, while this was the Southern Song Dynasty. Therefore, folding fans had no market and disappeared.

She picked it up and examined it closely. For some reason, she thought of her handsome and poetic senior brother, Lingyi. Someone like him would look even better with this folding fan.

Reading between the lines is an instinct for stall owners.

"Young master, you have an excellent eye. This fan was brought from the palace by our ancestor when he was an official in the previous dynasty. It's quite old and can be considered an antique. Look at the craftsmanship..."

Lin Feifei was delighted: "How much?"

"Not expensive," the stall owner said with a beaming smile, seeing that he had found a market for the goods. "Only ten coins."

"Ten coins!"

Lin Feifei rolled her eyes at him, saying that ten coins were enough for him to have two nice meals at the restaurant at this time.

"Young man, this is an antique. Look at this fan..."

"Alright, five coins, I'll take it or leave it."

After saying that, she was about to leave. Lin Feifei knew how to bargain, and she didn't think she was easy to fool. Why would she sell antiques here, displayed alongside these small items?

Sure enough, the stall owner was discouraged. Five coins was a good deal, but there wasn't much of a market for folding fans.

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"I'll ask someone to paint another picture when I get back, and give it to my senior brother. It will be even more elegant!" Lin Feifei thought to herself as she walked, holding the fan. She didn't mean anything by it; she was just grateful that he had taken care of her these past few days.

What should I draw?

Lin Feifei thought for a moment, then suddenly smiled broadly.

Bamboo is certainly not like him, and while plum blossoms possess a certain aloofness and loneliness, they lack a certain noble air. A person like him is unworthy of anything but the orchid, which embodies the spirit of a gentleman and the fragrance of a king.

But who should we ask to draw it...?

Just as she was thinking, a commotion interrupted her thoughts.

"Get this slovenly monk out!"

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Amid the commotion, a monk dressed in tattered clothes and waving a broken fan was pushed out of the shop.

"Don't come here again." The warning rang out.

The monk continued to bow respectfully with his palms together, seemingly not angry at all.

Lin Feifei stood there puzzled for a long time before finally remembering, and was startled: "Crazy monk!"

Hearing her call, the disheveled monk turned around, revealing a handsome and witty face with curved lips and eyes, a cheerful expression on his face.

"It really is you!" Lin Feifei was both surprised and delighted, and rushed over.

The mad monk immediately bowed again: "Young Taoist priest!"

"How did you get so disheveled in just a few days?" Lin Feifei looked him over curiously, touching his tattered clothes. "Weren't you wearing clean clothes just a few days ago? How come they're so worn out now?"

“Thanks to the young Taoist priest’s enlightenment,” the mad monk actually started singing with a grin, “My shoes are torn, my hat is torn, my cassock is torn, you laugh at me, he laughs at me, my fan is torn… Even if I wash it a thousand times, it is still this stinking skin, neither clean nor dirty, yet the cleanest.”

Lin Feifei was dumbfounded.

The mad monk clasped his hands together respectfully and said, "Master Ji Gong has already understood. He is truly a living Buddha. I am ashamed that I have been deluded for so many years."

"Wait, wait..." Lin Feifei was both annoyed and amused. "Are you imitating Ji Gong?"

The words had barely left his mouth—

"The Mad Master!"

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The two women turned around and saw an old woman carrying a small child, followed by a maidservant, running quickly towards them with a joyful expression. Upon reaching them, the two women knelt down.

"My grandson is only alive thanks to the Mad Master!" the old woman said, and was about to bow.