I spent the entire day at school, which really just meant sleeping through the afternoon and then enduring a half-hour lecture. I didn't care at all; my skin is far too thick for that. Hummed some nameless little tune and strolled home with my usual arrogant swagger.
I expected my sweet, naive mother not to ask about school, as she always had before. To my surprise, she actually showed concern for my studies. Looking at her caring eyes, I couldn't bear to tell her that I wasn't really learning anything, only getting punished. If she knew I hadn't picked up a thing, this sweet woman would surely be heartbroken.
So, I hardened my heart and lied. I’ve had plenty of practice with that. I told her, "My beautiful mother, your son is naturally gifted and ambitious—a literary star descended to earth. I understand everything as soon as I see or hear it." Inwardly, I knew the truth was more like "understand it at a glance, ruin it at a touch," but she wouldn't know that.
I thought that would be the end of it, but it turned out she had a soft spot for learning and asked what characters I’d mastered. Damn it. I hadn't learned a single one. How could I make this up? I decided to just go for it: I’d teach her the Chinese Characters I knew from my past life. She couldn't read, and she couldn't even count basic numbers, so she wouldn't know the difference. I told her patiently, "Beautiful Mother, I’ll teach you how to read and write tomorrow." She insisted she couldn't do it, but I told her not to worry. "With your bright and clever son as your teacher, I guarantee you’ll learn. You have plenty of free time anyway."
The next morning, I went to school, checked in, and went back to sleep. As for being scolded, it was only half an hour. I’m fearless; the idea that I’d be afraid of a lecture is laughable. I slept when I felt like it, and when I woke up and got bored, I just went out to play.
A person’s nature is hard to change. Even after being reborn, I still loved to poke around and look at everything. Days passed like that, and every day I went home to teach my beautiful mother how to read and write. I have to say, this sweet woman actually had a real talent for it. Once I taught her a character, she remembered it. If I’d had that kind of memory in my past life, I wouldn't have ended up in such a miserable state. She learned quickly, and I taught her plenty. Within a year, she had basically learned everything I had picked up by 1989. She was just too smart. After only a year, there was nothing left for me to teach. She knew how to write every character and calculate all the math—well, she used tree branches to write on the ground, but she knew it all.
Since there was nothing left to teach, I had her learn to sing and dance. With her looks, she’d be absolutely stunning. As they say, "graceful as a startled swan, smooth as a dragon in flight."
I even copied a few songs for her. It was quite nice, watching my beautiful mother singing and dancing every day. As for my schooling, I used to go and sleep in the classroom, but after a year, I stopped going altogether.
I just wandered around, but it got too boring, so I eventually went back to the classroom. My sudden reappearance drew a lot of attention. I hadn't been there in months, and heads turned to stare. I didn't care; I just made my way to my corner. To my surprise, there was someone sitting there.
How should I put it? I felt like, in all this world, here was someone even more miserable than me. Her clothes were decent, but she had a truly wretched air about her. I’ve always been cursed with curiosity, so I ran over to strike up a conversation. "Little beauty, why are you sitting here all by yourself?" I said. In this day and age, there weren't many scoundrels like me; I scared the poor girl half to death, and she shrank into the corner. I realized my tone was off—I’d gotten too used to acting like a rogue and forgot I was still just a child. I needed to fix that. I stood tall, put on a sanctimonious expression, and asked in a gentle voice, "Little sister, why are you alone here?"
Hearing the change in my voice, she looked up timidly and said, "They say I'm a jinx and told me to stay away from them, so I have to stand here by myself."
Gossip isn't just for women; I love it too. I pressed for more details: "Why do they say you're a jinx?" She lifted her bangs to reveal a scar on her forehead. "The fortune teller said this is a mark of ill fate, a sign of misfortune."
I saw right through that nonsense—it was just a birthmark. A mischievous urge took hold. I put on a profound look and said, "Little sister, if you trust your big brother, I can help you turn this into a mark of good fortune."
Hearing that, the girl grabbed my hand as if I were a lifeline. "Can you really help me?"
"Don't worry," I said. "Your big brother knows the heavens above and the earth below; there's nothing I can't do. Go buy some brushes and cinnabar tomorrow—make sure it's red. If you have any pearls or gold, bring those too. I'll change your destiny." I had been bored lately, so I decided to give this little girl a makeover.
In the past, I’d used this very craft to win over many beauties. The next morning at school, the little girl was already waiting there with a box.
She said she had everything ready. I told her to follow me, and we went to my house. Drawing a Phoenix on her forehead was going to be tricky, and I was a bit rusty, but we made it home through all the twists and turns.
My mother was surprised to see me bring a little girl home and asked who she was.
"A classmate from school," I said. "Beautiful Mother, watch closely, your son is going to show you another trick." I opened the box and started painting on the girl’s forehead. After two hours of hard work, a lifelike Phoenix appeared there. The girl hadn't dared to open her eyes the whole time. When I told her I had blessed her with a mythical beast, she asked, "Is it really a sign of good fortune? It’s not a curse, is it?"
"I promise you, it's nothing but good fortune." She bowed to me a few times and then ran off without looking back.