Chapter 50: Heavenly Movement
In the night, when Chen Ping'an first fled into the deep mountains, sprinting wildly, before long he ran into a bamboo grove with unusually soft soil. The straw-sandaled youth began to deliberately stamp his feet heavily.
After about half a stick’s worth of incense, just as he was about to reach the edge of the grove, the youth suddenly grabbed hold of a bamboo stalk on his left, swung toward another bamboo stalk not far away—more like an ape than the Moving Mountain Ape of Zhengyang Mountain—and repeated this several times before finally landing lightly on the ground. He crouched down, wiped away his footprints with his hand, and turned to look back. The distance to the first bamboo stalk was about five or six zhang. Only then did the youth start running again.
In less than a stick’s worth of incense, he could faintly hear the sound of a stream. The youth, sprinting at full speed, did not stop but instead leaped high into the air, plunging his entire body into the stream. He quickly stood up—it turned out he had landed on a giant boulder. Thoroughly familiar with this patch of land, the youth strained his eyes, relying on his exceptional eyesight and remarkable memory, leaping from stone to stone in the stream, fleeing downstream. If he kept this up, he would reach the riverside at the southern edge of town—the Green Ox’s Back—then the Covered Bridge, and finally Master Ruan’s blacksmith shop.
But the youth did not get too close to the Green Ox’s Back. Instead, at the narrowest part of the stream where it left the mountains—a spot as slender as a woman’s waist—he climbed ashore on the right.
Soon he heard a woman’s soft voice: “Chen Ping’an, over here.”
Chen Ping’an quickly crouched down, panting heavily, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his hand.
The black-clad girl whispered, “Did you really manage to trick the old ape into going up the mountain?”
The youth said bitterly, “I did my best.”
It was Ning Yao, who had taken a detour from Fortune Street in town to meet up with him. She asked, “Are you hurt?”
The straw-sandaled youth shook his head. “Just a minor injury.”
The girl felt conflicted and said angrily, “Daring to play such a game—if the old ape didn’t kill you, you got damn lucky!”
Chen Ping’an grinned and said, “That old beast already broke the rules once. If you had struck just a little later, I might not have made it.”
The girl froze for a moment, then burst into delight. “Did it really work? Not bad, Chen Ping’an!”
Chen Ping’an chuckled.
Ning Yao rolled her eyes and asked, “Now what?”
The straw-sandaled youth thought for a moment. “The general direction we agreed on stays the same, but I need to tweak a few details. The old ape is too powerful.”
Ning Yao slapped him on the head and laughed. “You’re just now figuring that out?”
Chen Ping’an suddenly said, “Miss Ning, turn around. I need to apply some medicine to my back. And keep an eye on the stream side for me.”
The girl turned around without hesitation, facing upstream.
Chen Ping’an took off the outer robe that originally belonged to Liu Xianyang, removed the Wooden Mud Armor, and from a cloth pouch at his waist took out a porcelain bottle from the Yang Family Shop. He poured some thick ointment into his right palm, lifted his shirt with his left hand, and smeared the ointment onto his back.
Even the youth, who could endure great pain, broke out in cold sweat.
Without turning around, the girl asked, “Does it hurt a lot?”
The youth smiled. “This is nothing.”
The girl curled her lips. What was the point of putting on a brave face?
---
At the westernmost house in town, a woman sat on the ground wailing loudly, pounding her chest, swaying back and forth. Her thin clothes seemed ready to burst at any moment. Her two grimy young children stood beside her in bewilderment, not knowing what to do. A simple man crouched outside the house, sighing deeply, his face full of helplessness. There was a hole in the roof for no apparent reason, and the spring chill hadn’t yet faded. He could endure it himself, but how would his wife and kids get through this?
Nearby, neighbors gathered, pointing and talking. Some said they had also heard noises on their roofs earlier but assumed it was a stray cat and didn’t think much of it. Others said that the western part of town had been unsettled today—some children had seen a white-robed old immortal floating around, taking ten steps for every ordinary person’s one, even walking on walls and leaping over rooftops. No one knew if it was the Earth God running out of his shrine or the Mountain God descending from the mountain.
A young sword cultivator from Wind and Thunder Garden crouched alone, his face grim.
Liu Baqiao had been chatting with Mr. Cui at the Supervisory Office earlier. When he heard the commotion at the Li Family mansion, he caught the scent of trouble. But even as the preeminent talent of Wind and Thunder Garden, he was not so arrogant as to challenge a Moving Mountain Ape directly. Instead, he thought he might watch from a distance and, if the opportunity arose, ambush the old ape—that would be deeply satisfying. So Liu Baqiao crept onto the upturned eaves of a library in one of the mansions, overlooking the town, searching for the old ape’s movements. Soon he noticed unusual activity in Mud Vase Alley in the western part of town, and the naturally bold Liu Baqiao began to follow stealthily.
At the very moment when the protective Mountain Ape of Zhengyang Mountain was forced to circulate his vital energy, after Liu Baqiao was injured, his natal flying sword—which had to be moved to nurture in his Bright Hall aperture for the time being—stirred restlessly, almost unsheathing itself. In this strange world, one’s cultivation level was directly proportional to the pressure of the Heavenly Dao. According to Liu Baqiao’s estimation, the protective mountain ape was not having an easy time. Even if he could forcibly circulate and exchange his energy, and afterward use his formidable physique or supreme divine abilities to suppress the chaos in his Sea of Qi caused by the Heavenly Dao, the number of times he could "cheat" like this would not be too many. Otherwise, he would risk a catastrophic flood breaking through a dam—a thousand years of cultivation could be destroyed in an instant. Even setting that aside, every time he acted as an "immortal" outside this world, it was already a form of loss, akin to an ordinary mortal shortening their lifespan.
But when Liu Baqiao saw where the old ape landed after stomping through that roof—creating two deep pits in the ground—the Wind and Thunder Garden sword prodigy began to count himself lucky that he hadn’t acted rashly. Otherwise, he would have brought disaster upon himself. Given the richness of the vital energy the old ape had at that moment, if he hadn’t discovered the commotion at the Li Family mansion on Fortune Street and had to confirm the safety of the little girl from Zhengyang Mountain, pursuing that fox-like straw-sandaled youth might not have been a sure thing. But if he had targeted Liu Baqiao, it would have been a one-hit kill.
Of course, the old ape wasn’t blind or stupid. When Liu Baqiao’s natal flying sword was about to emerge, the protective mountain ape had certainly detected his presence.
But Liu Baqiao had brushed past the gates of hell. Though he felt a lingering fear, he wasn’t really afraid of the old ape himself. Between Wind and Thunder Garden and Zhengyang Mountain, no matter how great the disparity in strength, if one side didn’t make a move, fine. But if one side chose to attack, it would be a fight to the death. And those of lesser cultivation would never kneel and beg for mercy from their opponent—this was a fact proven over five hundred years by countless lives from these two sword dao sacred grounds of East Floating Continent.
Moreover, Liu Baqiao wasn’t without backup in this town.
Liu Baqiao slowly stood up. Instead of returning directly to the office, he walked toward the dilapidated little house at the westernmost edge. He stood outside the low earthen wall and gave a loud shout. After the man and his wife both turned to look at him, he casually tossed a golden spirit coin in their direction, throwing it to the tear-streaked woman, and said with a laugh, “Hey, big sister, please stop wailing. I’m freaked out even from this far away!”
The woman caught the golden coin, glanced at its shape—similar to a copper coin, just a different color—and was stunned for a moment. She asked softly, “Is it gold?”
Liu Baqiao laughed heartily. “No. But it’s worth a lot more than gold!”
The woman froze for a beat, then flew into a rage. She hurled the golden coin back at the young outsider, stood up, hands on her hips, and cursed, “Get lost! If it were gold, I might believe you. Worth more than gold? You think I’ve never seen the world?! I’ve handled silver myself! You’re nothing but a wet-behind-the-ears little bastard, haven’t even grown your feathers yet, and you dare play the big shot in front of me? My husband isn’t dead yet!”
As she said this, she got even angrier. She strode over, her thick waist surprisingly twisting with a certain charm, and landed a kick on her crouching, silent husband. He toppled sideways. Not only did he not fight back, he didn’t even dare talk back. He scrambled to his feet, scurried away on all fours, and crouched elsewhere, his eyes full of grievance.
The woman pointed at her man and scolded, “You worthless coward! Might as well be dead! When something happens, all you do is play dead! All day you just loaf around, catching fish and snakes like a kid in diapers—worse than your own son! At least Little Sophora knows how to steal… pick up things and bring them home. You, a father—why won’t you work at the Yang Family Shop? Think you’re too good for it? Got money coming out of your ears? All year long, you don’t do a single proper thing…”
When she got to this point, the woman, whose chest could only be described as “spectacular,” suddenly smiled. “If you weren’t still decent in bed at night, would I even bother living with you?!”
The neighbors watching burst into laughter. Some young men even whistled and made lewd jokes.
The woman finally turned her attention back to the culprit. “Still not leaving? Haven’t weaned off your mother’s milk, have you?!”
Liu Baqiao had never encountered such rustic vigor. Instead of finding it vulgar, he found it quite entertaining. He enjoyed the spectacle thoroughly. Even though the woman had cursed him pretty badly, he wasn’t angry—he even laughed. Back in his sect, Wind and Thunder Garden, after every argument, he would feel a sense of loneliness, as if he had all the martial skill in the world but no worthy opponent. Today, he finally had a chance to put his talents to use. So he grinned mischievously and said, “What if I haven’t weaned? Can you help me out, big sister?”
The woman raised an eyebrow and sneered, “I’m afraid I might suffocate you. You can go find Granny Ma in Apricot Flower Lane! She’ll fill you up!”
The crowd roared with laughter.
Liu Baqiao had no idea who Granny Ma was, but from the audience’s reaction, he knew he had lost this round badly.
The young sword cultivator gave her a thumbs-up, his smile bright. “Alright, big sister, you win.”
Then he pinched the golden spirit coin between two fingers and shook it. “Sure you don’t want it?”
The woman hesitated, clearly torn.
Just then, someone shouted from a distance, helplessly, “Baqiao, Mr. Cui wants you back immediately.”
Liu Baqiao turned to look. It was Chen Songfeng from the Longtail Commandery Chen Clan. Beside him stood a tall, cold-looking woman. She carried no weapons, and her features were unremarkable, but her figure was undeniable—long legs that particularly appealed to Liu Baqiao. She was a distant relative of Chen Songfeng. Chen Songfeng had never volunteered how distant, and she always addressed him directly by name. The three had traveled together, and Liu Baqiao had never found her arrogant—just naturally cold.
Since it was Cui Minghuang’s order, Liu Baqiao dared not linger. He followed the two toward Fortune Street. But as he left, he couldn’t help glancing at the gloomy middle-aged man.
Among the lingering crowd, a scruffy man hesitated for a moment. After the neighbors gradually dispersed, he walked toward the yard alone.
The woman was about to take her children to her parents’ house—she really didn’t want to. Her in-laws were all snobs, looking down on the man she chose. Over the years, except for holidays, they had little contact. But with this disaster from the sky, the woman had no choice. She had wanted to be tough, take her son and daughter to an inn or restaurant for a few days, play the part of a wealthy wife for once. But her purse was empty—so empty it couldn’t even jingle—so she had to steel herself and go back to face their disdain. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Before leaving, she twisted her husband’s waist meat hard, twisting until his whole face contorted, before finally letting go. The two children were used to this scene. They didn’t worry about their parents fighting; they just snickered.
The woman had sharp eyes. She spotted the scruffy man skulking by the door and immediately cursed, “Hey, Zheng! Come to steal my clothes again? You’re worse than a dog! Even rabbits don’t eat the grass near their own burrows! No matter how much I hate to admit it, I’m your unlucky sister-in-law. How can you stoop to stealing?”
The scruffy man looked ready to cry. He felt like dying. “Sister-in-law, I swear by heaven and earth! I just forgot to buy candy for Little Sophora, so he deliberately said that. How could you believe him?”
The little boy had an innocent look on his face.
The woman, of course, trusted her own child more. She raised her hand to slap the man.
He quickly ducked and scurried away, shouting at the crouching man, “Big brother, aren’t you going to say something?”
The man mumbled a single sentence: “Don’t dare.”
The scruffy man sighed mournfully. “This world is no place for honest men.”
The woman, holding a child in each hand, walked toward the gate. Suddenly she turned back, threw a flirtatious glance, and said with a grin, “Zheng, next time bring more money. I’ll sell you some, only fifty coppers each. How about that?”
The scruffy man’s eyes lit up, but he said timidly, “A bit pricey, isn’t it? New clothes at Apricot Flower Lane shops, top-grade fabric, go for that much…”
The woman’s face flipped like a book. She cursed, “You actually have those dirty thoughts?! Go die! You deserve to be a bachelor forever! Worthless life! If you die outside the east gate one day, no one will even collect your corpse!”
After the woman and her children left, the scruffy man lightly jumped back and sat on the courtyard wall, fuming. “Big brother, I’m not one to criticize, but you must have been blinded by lard to pick such a shrew for a wife.”
It turned out this scruffy fellow was the gatekeeper of the town’s east gate. His surname was Zheng, and he was a bachelor.
The honest man still crouching in the yard blurted out, “I like it.”
The town gatekeeper, who collected money from outsiders, was silent for a moment, then said, “Master told you to hold back lately. Don’t start a fight.”
The gatekeeper looked up at the sorry roof and suddenly laughed. “Master also said, if you really can’t hold back, just vent your fire on your wife. Not like sis-in-law is afraid of your antics. She loves that stuff.”
The man—who wouldn’t say a word even if beaten with ten sticks—lifted his head and stared at the scruffy man on the low wall. The latter quickly changed his tune. “Fine, fine, I said that. Master never said such a thing.”
The honest man stood up. He was short and stocky, with bronze-colored skin and bulging arm muscles that strained his sleeves. He was also a bit hunched. He said crossly to the town gatekeeper, “If Master ever says more than ten words to you, I’ll take your surname.”
The gatekeeper silently recalled Master’s instructions, then counted on his fingers. It really hadn’t reached ten words! The scruffy man cursed to himself, feeling deflated and somewhat hurt. It was an unusually genuine display of emotion, and it made him look particularly pitiful.
The hunched man asked, “Anything else?”
The gatekeeper nodded. “Master said you need to deal with that person.”
The hunched man frowned, then habitually crouched down again, facing the damaged house, and said sullenly, “Why me?”
The gatekeeper, Zheng Dafeng, rolled his eyes. “Master ordered it. Take it or leave it.”
The man thought for a moment. “Get out of here. Next time I catch you stealing from my wife, I’ll break all three of your legs.”
The scruffy Zheng Dafeng flew into a rage. “Li Er! Say that to my face! Who the hell stole your wife’s clothes?! How can you believe such bullshit? Have you got water in your head?”
The man turned his head, looking at his furious junior brother, his face dark and silent.
Zheng Dafeng, like a wronged and resentful maiden, said bitterly, “I won’t do it again. Happy now?!”
The gatekeeper stood up, tapped his toe, and floated away like a locust leaf into the street. Once he was far enough, he dared to shout back, “Li Er, I’m going to buy your wife’s undergarments from her right now!”
The scruffy man hurled threats but ran faster than a dog.
But the honest man didn’t even bother to get up. He just said one word: “Coward.”
---
The three returned to the office. Cui Minghuang, the Confucian gentleman from Viewing Lake Academy, had been waiting for some time in the main hall. When he saw the strange woman, he stood up and nodded in greeting. She nodded back, her face still icy. As Liu Baqiao put it privately, she had a look that said “everyone in the world owes me a huge sum of money.”
After the three sat down, Cui Minghuang said to Liu Baqiao with a smile, “Lucky you restrained yourself and didn’t act. Otherwise, you would have caused a big mess. You didn’t see it, but just now, our Supervisor Song and that protective mountain ape of Zhengyang Mountain clashed three times head-on on Fortune Street. Quite the commotion. To be honest, no matter what once-in-a-lifetime opportunity you encounter from now on, I advise you not to strike. Don’t think you have an opening.”
Liu Baqiao asked curiously, “So that old beast knocked Song Changjing flat in three punches? Is Song Changjing such a useless pretty boy? They say he’s touched the threshold of the tenth realm, just half a step away from entering it.”
Cui Minghuang sighed helplessly. “We’re staying as guests in Lord Song’s house. Could you please show some respect?”
Chen Songfeng said with emotion, “Lord Song held the advantage.”
Even though this man had no real connection to the Great Li Prince, any cultivator who heard of such a feat couldn’t help but feel awestruck!
A pure martial artist, relying solely on his physical body, going toe-to-toe with a Moving Mountain Ape!
And he even gained the upper hand!
The woman sat to the side, resting with her eyes closed, her hands naturally laid flat on her knees.
At the mention of this, her fingers twitched slightly.
She had been found by Chen Songfeng in a hurry. Originally, she had planned to keep wandering around town. The only reason she didn’t insist and instead followed Chen Songfeng to find Liu Baqiao and then return to the office was simply out of courtesy.
As for whether Chen Songfeng could get any advantage from that old locust tree, or obtain some ancestral locust leaves, this woman—also surnamed Chen—didn’t really care.
But when Chen Songfeng found her, she could still clearly feel the excitement he was trying hard to suppress. He had probably gained a lot—the number of locust leaves he harvested had likely exceeded the expectations of the Longtail Commandery Chen Clan’s ancestors.
Liu Baqiao suddenly burst into laughter. “That old beast took a huge fall! Wonderful! He was led around by an ordinary kid like a dog on a leash, dragged by the nose across half the town! Haha! This huge joke is enough for me to tell for ten years at Wind and Thunder Garden! Those backwater hillbillies from Zhengyang Mountain will be in a rush to jump out and say we’re slandering them—‘Prove it if you can!’ I’ll prove it with your grandmother’s evidence! If it weren’t for the town’s ban on magic arts and the cost of breaking the rules being too high, I’d die trying to ‘carve’ this scene into a Mirror of Voice and Appearance!”
Cui Minghuang’s expression changed slightly, and he called out sharply, “Baqiao!”
The woman opened her eyes almost at the same time.
Liu Baqiao was about to ask what was up when he suddenly shut his mouth.
Soon, a man in a white robe arrived slowly. After stepping over the threshold, he smiled at Liu Baqiao and asked, “What’s so funny? Joy shared is joy doubled. Why not let me have a laugh too?”
Cui Minghuang had already stood up, intending to offer the main seat to this Great Li Prince.
Song Changjing smiled at the Viewing Lake Academy scholar and shook his head, indicating that there was no need for such formalities. He casually pulled up a chair and sat beside Liu Baqiao, facing Chen Songfeng and the woman, who were seated opposite.
Though Liu Baqiao gave the impression of being a carefree and lazy character, sitting this close to a martial artist who had possibly reached the legendary tenth realm—especially one with such an infamous reputation, building a skull pyramid and having a hobby of killing geniuses—was truly hair-raising. So even though when the prince wasn’t around, Liu Baqiao would casually call him Song Changjing, now he was feeling quite nervous.
Fortunately, the young sword cultivator never cared much about saving face. He smiled apologetically and said, “Grandmaster Song, I was just telling everyone about your epic confrontation with that old beast of Zhengyang Mountain! It was truly earth-shattering—so divine! Your punches were like dragons! If you hadn’t held back, that protective ape would have been dead on Fortune Street without a complete corpse. Your martial arts are so lofty, your martial virtue so fine—I can never catch up, even riding a horse!”
Song Changjing smiled but said nothing.
Cold sweat dripped from Liu Baqiao’s forehead. His back was soaked. He couldn’t say another word and finally shut up completely.
Song Changjing suddenly turned to look at the woman opposite him, his gaze thoughtful and intrigued. He asked, “Are you also from the Longtail Commandery Chen Clan?”
The woman shook her head and said slowly, “No.”
Song Changjing gave an “oh,” his expression thoughtful.
The atmosphere grew awkward.
Until Song Jixin appeared at the doorway. Seeing no empty chairs inside, he casually sat down on the threshold, looking at everyone in the room.
Song Changjing didn’t mind this at all. He said to Liu Baqiao with a smile, “Actually, the kid survived partly thanks to you.”
Because the Moving Mountain Ape had initially assumed the youth was following orders from someone else. In this town, those who dared to scheme against Zhengyang Mountain were no fools—they were all good at planning before acting. So the old ape thought the mantis stalking the cicada would have a hidden oriole behind it—a figure of high status and no weak skill. That was why he was so sloppy in Mud Vase Alley, not wanting to show any flaw.
It wasn’t until he reached the westernmost house that the old ape, sure there were no assassins lurking nearby, finally let loose a little and punched the straw-sandaled youth in the back.
Liu Baqiao laughed dryly. “Even if that’s true, I don’t want to be that kind of benefactor.”
Song Changjing dismissed it with a smile.
The woman turned her head slightly to glance at the handsome youth sitting on the threshold.
The youth smiled at her.
She turned her head back, expressionless.
The youth curled his lips and began to openly admire her long legs. She was around twenty-five or twenty-six, moderately attractive, but he thought she had a certain appeal.
The woman turned her head, her gaze cold, and said hoarsely, “Are you looking for death?”
Song Jixin pointed at himself, putting on an exaggeratedly innocent look that was just asking for a beating. “Me?”
Then he pointed at the Great Li Prince, Song Changjing, and said, “Then you’ll have to ask him first.”
The woman was about to stand up.
Song Changjing narrowed his eyes in an instant.
Within the main hall, a vast oppressive force crashed down on everyone’s heads like a torrential rain, leaving no place to hide. Everyone’s skin felt a stabbing pain as if struck by needles.
Only Song Jixin at the doorway seemed completely unaffected.
Chen Songfeng spoke with difficulty, but his tone was firm. “Your Highness, this young lady is not from our East Floating Continent. I urge you to act with caution!”
The woman smiled and stood up. “Do you dare kill me? Aren’t you afraid your Great Li will be destroyed as a nation?”
Cui Minghuang was about to stop her.
But the woman flew backward. Not only did her chair turn to dust in midair, but her tall frame slammed into the wall, embedded in it like an object.
Song Changjing appeared at the wall as if by magic, standing with his hands behind his back. He looked up slightly at the woman, whose seven orifices were bleeding, and said with a smile, “Little girl, do you think just because your father or your ancestor is powerful, you have the right to spout nonsense in front of me? What’s that word for it again?”
He turned his head to look at his nephew, who said with a grin, “Arrogant. Spouting arrogant nonsense.”
Song Changjing smiled, then turned back to the woman. Though her face was twisted in pain, her gaze was resolute, with no trace of begging for mercy. Song Changjing said, “In your next life, make sure you don’t run into me again.”
Chen Songfeng felt his liver and gall split apart. His eyes were bloodshot. He was caught in an extremely complicated state of great anger and great fear. He was about to speak.
But Cui Minghuang stepped forward first, clasped his hands in a bow, and said humbly, “Your Highness, could you grant me a favor and let this matter go?”
Song Changjing’s mouth twitched with scorn.
The woman met the Great Li Prince’s gaze, then closed her eyes, as if accepting her fate.
Just then, the youth by the threshold laughed heartily. “Uncle! Forget it. Bullying a woman—if it gets out, it’ll tarnish your reputation.”
Song Changjing’s form paused slightly, so subtle that even Cui Minghuang and Liu Baqiao felt that the god of death hadn’t moved a muscle.
Song Changjing tilted his head, extended two fingers, and flicked lightly, as if brushing dust off his shoulder.
Liu Baqiao, the number one of the younger generation at Wind and Thunder Garden, stood dumbfounded.
Cui Minghuang breathed a sigh of relief.
Chen Songfeng was lost in a fog.
Song Changjing said to Liu Baqiao with a smile, “Kid, not bad. I’m keeping an eye on you.”
The woman opened her eyes, “pulled herself out” of the wall, and after landing, swayed slightly. She said to his back, “Today’s lesson, Chen Dui will engrave on her heart.”
Song Changjing paid her no mind. He said to Liu Baqiao, “After you leave this town, come find me in the Great Li capital. I have something for you. It depends on whether you can take it and carry it away.”
Liu Baqiao blurted out, “A talisman sword!”
All cultivators knew that a talisman sword was one of the main Daoist artifacts. But if a sword could be directly called a “talisman sword” and be known to everyone, one could imagine how stunning that sword would be.
Song Changjing and Song Jixin walked out of the courtyard. The man laughed and asked, “That bad air in your heart—blown off yet?”
Song Jixin nodded. “Pretty much.”
When it came to Chen Ping’an earlier, this guy had even set up his own nephew. Of course, Song Jixin had a belly full of resentment.
Song Jixin suddenly frowned and asked, “That woman clearly comes from huge connections. Aren’t you afraid that by hitting the small one, you’ll attract the big one, and by beating the big one, you’ll attract an old immortal? If the local gazetteers don’t lie, I know how formidable those old turtles are. Can our Great Li really handle it?”
The man shut him down with a single sentence: “You’re underestimating the name ‘Song Changjing’ too much.”
---
Inside the main hall, Cui Minghuang returned to his seat, his expression unreadable.
Liu Baqiao slumped back in his chair, still shaken. “Good heavens, is the gap between the seventh, eighth, and ninth realms really that huge?”
Wind and Thunder Garden had one seventh-realm and one eighth-realm martial artist, and Liu Baqiao had good relations with both.
Cui Minghuang shook his head. “In Go, even among ninth-rank masters, there are differences in strength. The gap can be enormous. And Song Changjing is the strongest hand within the ninth rank.”
Then Cui Minghuang turned to the woman named Chen Dui and asked with concern, “Miss Chen, are you all right?”
The woman was also a tough one. Though her face was pale, she smiled calmly. “I’m fine.”
Chen Songfeng seemed even more panicked than this distant relative of his, who was directly involved.
Cui Minghuang sighed inwardly. The Longtail Commandery Chen Clan would likely find it difficult to stand out in the coming great chaos.
Liu Baqiao clicked his tongue in amazement. “A single flick of his finger, and he could send my flying sword back into my aperture without harming my spirit at all. Truly unbelievable.”
Cui Minghuang teased, “Now you know there are mountains beyond mountains and people beyond people?”
Liu Baqiao, unable to resist mischief, leered, “People beyond people? Master Cui, that’s not very gentlemanly of you!”
Cui Minghuang didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He ignored the fool.
Liu Baqiao thought for a moment, then tried to comfort the strangely named woman, to prevent her from doing something rash out of stubbornness, like going after Song Changjing with all her might. That would drag everyone in this room into disaster. “Big sister Chen, even though saying this boosts others’ morale and diminishes our own, when you run into Song Changjing, bowing your head and taking a step back isn’t shameful.”
Chen Songfeng started to speak but stopped.
The woman hummed softly and said calmly, “Song Changjing does have that right. I’m not unconvinced—just unwilling to accept it.”
Liu Baqiao said carelessly, “You don’t even need to be unwilling. Look at me—I’m thrilled now. When I get back to Wind and Thunder Garden, I’ll have another ten years of bragging material. I actually fought against Song Changjing of Great Li! Even if it was just one move, I came out unscathed! Of course, if I really get that talisman sword from the Great Li capital, I’ll be able to brag for a hundred years!”
The woman’s thoughts drifted elsewhere.
For no reason, she thought of that youth sitting on the threshold—the one who could stop Song Changjing from killing with a single sentence.
---
The old shopkeeper of the Yang Family Shop returned to town and went straight to the courtyard behind his shop. It was modest, just enough for the three hired workers to live in.
The shopkeeper pushed open the main door of the back courtyard and saw an old man sitting in a chair, fiddling with his old dry tobacco pipe. The shopkeeper closed the door, called out “Old Yang,” and the old man quickly put down his bamboo pipe, poured a bowl of tea, and asked with a smile, “Shopkeeper, is someone in urgent need of medicine? Do I need to go up the mountain in the dark?”
The aged shopkeeper looked at this old man, who seemed about the same age, shook his head, and picked up the tea bowl. He sighed and said, “Today I treated a patient at Master Ruan’s place. A young man named Liu. He was nearly beaten to death by an outsider. It really got to me, so I thought I’d come sit with you for a while and calm down.”
Old Yang, whose face was as wrinkled as old locust bark, smiled. “Shopkeeper, make yourself at home. You’re not a stranger.”
The shopkeeper suddenly remembered something. “Oh, Old Yang, you helped a kid many years ago—the one from Mud Vase Alley. A poor little boy who bought medicine for his mother. Was his name Chen Ping’an?”
Old Yang was a bit surprised and nodded. “Yes, that child. His mother still passed away in the end. If I remember right, she didn’t make it through that winter. I saw the kid a few times after that, but not many. I couldn’t bear to watch, so I gave him a cheap folk remedy. What’s wrong? Did someone hurt him?”
The shopkeeper took a sip of tea and said bitterly, “I just told you, the young man was surnamed Liu. Old Yang, your memory is terrible!”
Old Yang laughed heartily, unconcerned.
The old shopkeeper ventured cautiously, “Old Yang, should we do something for him?”
Old Yang picked up his small bamboo pipe and shook his head. “Shopkeeper, just do nothing.”
The shopkeeper looked relieved. “That’s good, that’s good. Old Yang, you go ahead with your business. I’ll be off.”
Old Yang started to stand up to see him out, but the shopkeeper quickly urged, “No need, no need.”
As the shopkeeper walked down the steps, he looked back. Old Yang was about to close the door. Their eyes met, and the old man grinned. The shopkeeper quickly turned and left.
When the shopkeeper had taken over the shop in middle age, his father, on his deathbed, had left a final, strange instruction: “‘When the shop is in big trouble, find Old Yang and do as he says.’ This saying has been passed down since your great-great-grandfather’s time. When you pass the shop on to the next generation, don’t forget to tell them. Never forget!”
The shopkeeper had nodded vigorously, and only then did his father breathe his last and close his eyes in peace.
Night grew deeper.
Old Yang lit an oil lamp.
He puffed on his dry tobacco, thinking of long-past events—trivial matters that no one else would care about.
---
A house that had been passed down for generations was kept neat and tidy, not at all what one would expect from Mud Vase Alley.
A plain, honest man crouched at the courtyard gate, looking at a sweet-faced child, and asked with a smile, “Son, after the New Year, are you all grown up now?”
The child raised one hand and said cheerfully, “Dad, I’m five years old! I’m a grown-up!”
The man smiled, a little sadly. “Then from now on, when I’m not around, I’ll have to leave your mother in your care. Can you do that?”
The child immediately straightened his back. “Yes!”
The man smiled and extended a large, calloused hand. “Pinky promise.”
The child eagerly reached out his small, fair hand. “Pinky promise, a hundred years no changing!”
Father and son hooked little fingers, then pressed their thumbs together tightly.
The man let go, slowly stood up, turned to glance at the graceful figure busy in the main room, and then strode away without looking back.
Behind him, the child called out, “Dad, the candied hawthorns are delicious.”
The man’s lips trembled. He turned and forced a smile. “Got it!”
The child, sensible as he was, blinked and said, “The small ones taste better.”
The man quickly turned away, not daring to look at his son again. He walked on, muttering to himself, “Son, Dad’s leaving!”
---
At the Yang Family Shop, a child who came to buy medicine every few days was shoved out of the shop by an impatient young clerk. The clerk cursed, “How many times do I have to tell you? With these few bits of broken silver, you can’t even buy the dregs! Stop pestering! You’ve been blocking the door for half the day! This is a medicine shop—we need to do business. It’s not a temple with a Bodhisattva for you to worship! If you weren’t so young, I’d really lay a hand on you! Get lost, get lost!”
The child clutched his shriveled money pouch tightly. He wanted to cry but stubbornly refused to let out a sound. He repeated the same words he had said countless times: “My mother is still waiting for me to boil the medicine. It’s been a long time. My family really has no money left, but my mother is really sick...”
The young clerk grabbed a broom and made as if to strike.
The child, standing outside the threshold, was so scared he crouched down, covering his head with both hands, but his left hand still gripped the money pouch tightly.
After a long while, the child looked up and saw a stern-faced old man standing there, looking at him.
The young clerk had already put down the broom with a grumble and went back to his own work.
The old man extended a hand. “Buying things with money, businessmen making money—that’s only natural. How much you earn depends on your conscience. But there’s no such thing as doing business at a loss. So give me your money pouch. I’ll take those bits of silver. Today, the medicine your mother needs, I’ll give you on credit. But you have to pay it back later—not a single cent less. Do you understand, little one?”
The child blinked, half understanding, but still handed over the money pouch.
In the end, the old man had to bend over the counter with some effort just to see the child, whose head barely reached it. “Do you know how to boil the medicine?”
The child nodded like a pecking chicken. “Yes!”
The old man frowned. “Really?”
The child dared only nod slightly.
The young clerk said from a distance, “Master Liu went to Mud Vase Alley once to treat his mother and taught the kid. Later, he wasn’t at ease, so he watched the kid boil the medicine himself. Strange to say, the little runt didn’t make a single mistake. Master Liu said so himself, so it should be right.”
The old man waved his hand at the child. “Go on.”
The child, overjoyed, picked up a large bundle of medicine wrapped in oil paper and ran back to Mud Vase Alley as fast as he could.
His mother lay on a wooden bed. When the child tiptoed into the room, he found her still sleeping. He touched her forehead—it wasn’t hot. Relieved, he quietly moved her hand back under the quilt.
The child went to the small kitchen outside and began to boil the medicine in an earthen pot. In the meantime, he started cooking a meal.
He had to stand on a small stool.
He flipped the spatula with all his might, coughing from the steam, but he kept muttering, “It has to taste good! It has to! Otherwise, Mom won’t have an appetite again...”
---
A child, only five years old, carried a basket almost as big as himself and headed into the mountains outside town.
This was the child’s second time going into the mountains. The first time, Old Yang from the Yang Family Shop had taken him, walking slowly to accommodate the child’s weak legs. The old man had only taught him which herbs to pick, and he carried the basket himself. That trip had been relatively easy. Today was different. Under the blazing sun, carrying the basket on his back, the child felt a burning pain.
He walked and cried, gritting his teeth and pressing forward.
That day, he didn’t return to the Yang Family Shop until dark. The basket held only a thin layer of herbs.
Old Yang was furious.
The child said tearfully that he was the only one at home with his mother and was afraid she might be hungry—otherwise, he would have brought back more herbs. He could get up early the next day to go into the mountains.
The old man said nothing, turned and walked away, only telling him he’d give him one more chance.
In less than two months, the child’s hands and feet were covered in calluses.
---
One day, a sudden torrential rain trapped the child, who had forgotten the time while gathering herbs, on the far side of a stream.
Facing the raging floodwaters, the child wailed in the pouring rain.
Finally, when he couldn’t take it anymore and was about to jump into the stream, Old Yang suddenly appeared on the opposite bank. He stepped across the stream in one stride, and with another, he picked up the child and returned.
The raindrops, as big as soybeans, pelted his body. But on the way down the mountain, the child kept laughing happily.
After they left the mountains, the old man said, “Little Peace, make me a tobacco pipe, and I’ll teach you a little trick so that climbing the mountain won’t tire you out.”
The child wiped the rain from his face with his hand and grinned. “Sure!”
---
The child skipped back to Mud Vase Alley. Today, he had found a rare and valuable herb, so the Yang Family Shop had given him extra medicine for his mother.
Having not eaten all day, the child suddenly felt a sharp pain in his stomach.
At that moment, he knew he had eaten something bad in the mountains.
The pain started in his stomach, spread to his limbs, and finally to his head.
First, the child carefully crouched down, took off the basket, and took deep breaths, trying to suppress the pain.
But then came burning heat, then icy cold shivers. In the end, the pain was so great that he writhed on the ground in the alley.
From beginning to end, the child dared not make a sound.
No matter how much his head banged against the alley wall, he didn’t cry out.
He was too close to home.
He was afraid his mother, lying in bed, would worry.
During that ordeal, his mind clouded, he could only hear the beating of his own heart, like a drum pounding right next to his ear, thundering.
---
In Apricot Flower Lane, a child crouched not far from a candied hawthorn stall. Every time, he would stay for a short while, never long, but the stall owner remembered that dark little face.
Finally, one day, the man selling hawthorns took one off the stick and said with a smile, “Here, for you. No charge.”
The child quickly stood up, shook his head, smiled shyly, and ran off.
After that, the stall owner never saw the child again.
---
That winter.
The woman on the sickbed was nothing but skin and bones, her face withered and ugly.
The child, having just returned from praying before a broken statue, fetched water from the Iron Lock Well in Apricot Flower Lane, came to the bedside, sat on a small stool, and saw that his mother was awake. He asked softly, “Mom, feeling better?”
The woman smiled with difficulty. “Much better. It doesn’t hurt at all anymore.”
The child was overjoyed. “Mom, praying to the Bodhisattvas really works!”
The woman nodded, tremblingly extended a hand, and the child quickly took it.
With great difficulty and pain, she turned on her side, gazing at her child’s face. Despite all her suffering, a light of happiness radiated from her. She murmured, “How can there be such a good child in all the world? And how is it that he happens to be my son?”
---
That winter, the woman ultimately could not survive the year’s end. She didn’t live to see her son put up the Spring Festival couplets and door gods. She died.
Just before she closed her eyes, snow began to fall on the town. She told her son to go outside and look at the snow.
Listening to her son’s footsteps as he ran out of the house, she closed her eyes and silently recited: “Peace upon peace, peace upon peace, my little Peace, year after year, year after year, safe and sound...”
From that day on, Chen Ping’an became an orphan.
It was just that a child had turned into a youth.