Chapter 85: The Grand Examination Ends
When Chen Ping'an woke up, he found that the oil lamp on the table had burned out, and the sky outside the window was already faintly bright.
He only remembered that the tall woman had spoken five passages to him.
"All the secrets and inside information I just told you, once you wake from the dream, you will forget completely. Don't bother trying to remember; I simply felt like talking."
"If I were to manifest in the world now, even if the various sages didn't come to suppress you and me, your current physique and soul simply couldn't bear it. It would do you more harm than good. So we set a hundred-year agreement. As long as you successfully ascend to the Tenth Floor of Qi Practitioners within these hundred years, you can return to the small town's stone arch bridge and take the iron sword."
"Having chosen you as my master, you must never become arrogant or complacent because of this, nor should you ever belittle yourself. In eight thousand years, I have witnessed too many dazzling prodigies. More recently, figures like Cao Xi, Xie Shi, and Ma Kuxuan never caught my eye. So choosing you is certainly not a desperate last resort because my time is running out."
"Although I cannot accompany you in battle for now, I still have a meeting gift. Three thousand years ago, during that great dragon-slaying war, I had nothing better to do and watched those children brawling. It was lively, and things were scattered everywhere. I picked up a piece of white jade plaque with decent material. It looked plain and pleasing, with no carvings, small and exquisite. It can be used to store objects. It's an 'Immediate Object' of some age, of higher rank than the popular 'Square Inch Armory' and 'Square Inch Sword Grave' of today. The space inside is about the size of your ancestral home in Mud Vase Alley. Moreover, you don't need to wear it openly; it can be nurtured within your acupoints. I've already bonded it with your divine will. When you touch an object, you only need to move your mind, and it will be stored in the acupoint where the jade plaque resides. Unless a Ascension Realm cultivator forcefully breaks it open, it won't suffer any damage. The bad news is that you can only use the jade plaque once you reach the Middle Five Realms."
"Mm, finally, the title 'Fairy Sister' suits me quite well, so I've placed three extremely tiny strands of sword qi on you as an extra."
Chen Ping'an sat in a daze.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
He had only wanted to return home before leaving the small town, to light the lamp and stay awake until dawn, to make up in advance for the New Year's Eve vigil he would inevitably miss this year.
Chen Ping'an's head felt as big as a bucket.
Let alone the Qi Practitioner's Middle Five Realms and Tenth Floor; his current body was leaking air from all directions, like a dilapidated thatched hut in a storm. Gathering wind and storing qi was incredibly difficult. How could he possibly practice cultivation and become an immortal? Not only was Chen Ping'an destined to be unable to cultivate, but to stay alive, he needed to nourish his physique through boxing.
Ning Yao had once casually mentioned that it was easy to ruin a person's bones and acupoints, like Cai Jinjian "guiding" Chen Ping'an by forcefully opening his apertures. But reshaping a complete physique, especially one suitable for cultivation, was harder than reaching the heavens. The logic was simple: a child hacking at a door with a cleaver only took some effort, but repairing that broken door to be as good as new was naturally very difficult.
In truth, Chen Ping'an's greatest worry was that he had promised Li Baoping to escort her to Cliff Mountain Academy. The journey would surely be long. It was hard to say if he could even return alive to his hometown. And now there was this extra hundred-year agreement? Chen Ping'an hadn't held back at the time, but the woman in white dismissed him with a single sentence: It's fine. I have no room for regret now. I've set my sights on you, Chen Ping'an, as my master. If you die, I'll just wait for death. The day that old sword strip falls into the stream, my spirit will completely dissipate. Don't worry, you don't need to feel indebted to me. If anyone's to blame, it's my own blindness—I can't complain about others.
At that time, Chen Ping'an thought: Since you put it that way, can I live with my conscience? And what do you mean "can't complain about others"? Isn't it just you and me?
Chen Ping'an had no idea what the Qi Practitioner's Tenth Floor was, nor what "Immediate Objects" and "Square Inch Objects" actually meant.
Besides this inexplicably huge burden, deep down, the boy felt a small hint of joy.
From today onward, there was one more person in this world who needed to rely on him.
At the very end of their dream conversation, Chen Ping'an remembered sitting shoulder to shoulder with the woman in white on an extremely long, golden stone arch bridge that stretched endlessly, like a flood dragon shuttling through a sea of clouds.
Chen Ping'an took a deep breath, slumped onto the table, and finally decided that Old Man Yao's saying was the easiest to understand: "What's yours, hold on to it and don't lose it. What's not yours, don't even think about it."
Chen Ping'an packed the things he needed into a small backpack: a slingshot, fishhooks and fishing line, flint, and other odds and ends. Finally, he carefully took a small cloth bag from the bottom of a clay jar, filled with broken porcelain pieces. All together, it wasn't much, but it wasn't light either. When traveling far, like when Chen Ping'an used to go into the mountains for hundreds of miles, carrying too much weight was like a dull knife cutting flesh. He had to know how to live off the land.
Chen Ping'an slung the backpack over his shoulders, locked the door, and stood in the yard. Seeing the locust branch leaning against the wall, he thought for a moment, then reopened the door and placed it inside to keep it from weathering and rotting early.
Chen Ping'an had the two taels of silver he'd earned from gathering herbs last time. He went to Apricot Flower Alley and Dragon Riding Alley. Since it was still early, the straw-sandaled boy crouched outside the closed shops, waiting patiently. When the shopkeepers finally opened their doors with yawns, he bought incense and paper money, and from a tavern, a jug of wine called "Peach Blossom Spring Burn". Finally, he wanted to buy a pack of "Bitter Festival Cake" from the New Year's Shop. He remembered his mother had eaten it once when he was little, saying it was delicious, and she promised to buy it again for his fifth birthday. Chen Ping'an remembered it very clearly. But the shop assistant said they had stopped making that cake long ago. A master baker who knew the recipe had gone to the capital with the owner to enjoy life. So Chen Ping'an had to buy a pack of the peach blossom cake that Ruan Xiu had given to Li Baoping yesterday.
The boy left the small town, passed the small temple where he and Ning Yao had once hidden from the Mountain Moving Ape, and continued south until he reached a small hill. He climbed halfway up to a desolate field that hadn't been farmed for years, with two small grave mounds. The field and mounds were free of weeds. Chen Ping'an stood before the two mounds, slowly crouched down, took off his backpack, and carefully laid out the sacrificial items.
For a thousand years and another thousand, the small town's customs—whether originally so or changed later—dictated that regardless of wealth or status, when visiting graves, people didn't kneel or kowtow. They only needed to light three incense sticks and bow three times. The Mud Vase Alley boy, who had only been influenced by "four years of family tradition," was no exception. But before lighting the incense, as always, he grabbed a handful of dirt from nearby, added it to the mounds, and gently pressed it down.
This time, because he was in a hurry, he could only take soil from nearby. Normally, every time he went into the mountains, he would secretly collect a handful of soil from various peaks and bring it here. It had no special meaning; it just put his mind at ease. The boy always felt he had never been filial to his parents, not even a little, so he had to do something to feel better. Plus, Old Man Yao had said that the old ceramic artisans had this tradition passed down through generations, so Chen Ping'an had kept it up for all these years.
The two small graves were close together, nestled against each other.
No headstones.
Chen Ping'an lit three incense sticks, bowed three times toward the graves, and inserted them in front. Then he opened the jug of wine and gently poured it onto the ground.
Finally, he stood up, closed his eyes, and clasped his hands together, speaking silently to his parents.
He told them about his upcoming journey with the little girl in the red cotton jacket, Li Baoping, who would travel thousands or tens of thousands of miles from home.
---
A handsome young man stood in a small temple by the roadside, looking up at the wall covered with names written in charcoal. Dense, crooked, large and small.
Perhaps to the townsfolk, these childish scribbles meant nothing. But to the young man at this moment, they were like a brilliant Milky Way in the long river of history.
The Pearl of Li Cave Heaven, situated above the Da Li region of Eastern Treasured Vial Continent, was the smallest of the thirty-six minor cave heavens—only a thousand miles of mountains and rivers. Without magical restrictions, the scenery was hardly impressive to Qi Practitioners who could fly through the air. But besides the tempting treasures and artifacts left behind by the sages and patriarchs of various schools who died in battle, the people nurtured by this land were truly extraordinary, different from anywhere else.
Consider this: if two great Qi Practitioners formed a perfect Dao couple, their offspring would inevitably reach the Middle Five Realms, but the chance of ascending to the Upper Five Realms was barely higher than that of children taken out of the small town from the Pearl of Li Cave Heaven. And how many people lived in that small town?
It was like a pond producing flood dragons, one or two every generation. So now that the Pearl of Li Cave Heaven was shattering and falling, the monarchs of the various dynasties on Eastern Treasured Vial Continent, if they had any sense of crisis, would surely breathe a sigh of relief. The Song Clan of Da Li had finally cut off this golden vein, which would inevitably affect the northern campaign of Da Li's iron cavalry.
Cui Chan couldn't bear to look away for a long time. A mix of emotions stirred within him. In imperial examinations, there had always been bonds of classmates, same-year graduates, and fellow townsmen.
The same applied on the path of cultivation.
Now that the dust had settled in the Pearl of Li Cave Heaven, someone had paid the price of death and Dao to achieve a decent outcome.
Every great cultivator who had left the Pearl of Li Cave Heaven would remember this karmic connection, more or less. And the four surnames and ten clans, along with the forces behind them, would feel it even more.
Unfortunately, the Song Clan of Da Li had neither gained nor lost points in this upheaval. But originally, Da Li could have acted with more "human touch." For example, when Ruan Qiong requested early entry into the Pearl of Li Cave Heaven, they shouldn't have agreed so quickly. Or when the four powers demanded the return of the sages' suppression artifacts, even if Da Li's Ministry of Rites didn't have the courage to refuse, they should have righteously delayed, saying it was against the rules. Also, the Da Li court shouldn't have used private letters to almost openly notify the four surnames and ten clans of the coming catastrophe, urging them to evacuate their seeds of hope before being implicated by Qi Jingchun's rebellious acts. The list went on.
Once the Da Li emperor realized this, or if his greed grew, Cui Chan—the chancellor who controlled half the country's government and strategized from afar—might really face accountability after the fact.
But at this moment, the chancellor Cui Chan, standing in the small temple, looked utterly relaxed, as if he didn't care at all about the Da Li emperor's wrath.
Cui Chan muttered to himself, "Hold on, hold on."
He looked around at the walls, memorized all the names, and was about to wave his sleeve to erase all traces to prevent others from using them later. But just as he moved, Ruan Qiong appeared at the temple entrance, grinning fiercely, "Good kid, you've got some nerve. How many times is this?"
Cui Chan chuckled, "I haven't done it yet, have I?"
A leisurely voice sounded near the temple: "Go ahead and fight all you want. I'll clean up the mess. I guarantee no more 'turtle overturns' or mountain severances. After you settle things, this thousand miles of mountains and rivers will suffer at most ten to twenty percent damage. Ruan Qiong, instead of being tangled up with this pest endlessly, I think you should just finish it once and for all. Better to deal with the thief than to worry about him constantly."
Cui Chan's expression didn't change. He laughed loudly, "Old Man Yang, killing without bloodshed and reaping the benefits—what a good hand."
Ruan Qiong nodded, "I think so."
Cui Chan quickly bowed and apologized, smiling as he begged for mercy, "Alright, alright. I'll just wander around the small town from now on, okay? Great Sage Ruan? And Senior Yang?"
Ruan Qiong was clearly weighing the pros and cons.
Cui Chan said casually, "Even if Senior Yang can protect ninety percent of the landscape, what if I focus all my efforts on smashing Divine Grace Mountain's Horizontal Halberd Peak?"
Before Ruan Qiong could speak, Old Man Yang's voice rang out again, "If I were him, I really couldn't take that."
Ruan Qiong said irritably, "Get back to Second Son Alley."
Cui Chan shook his head and sauntered out of the temple. As he passed Ruan Qiong, he even made a "youthful" funny face.
When Cui Chan reached the other side of the stream, Ruan Qiong turned around and saw the old man sitting on a withered bench in the temple, smoking his dry pipe.
For the first time, the old man didn't sneer. Instead, he smiled, "You really care about your daughter, huh."
Ruan Qiong sighed, clearly frustrated at holding back despite Cui Chan's provocation. He sat across from Old Man Yang, leaned against the wall, and twitched his mouth, "I owe nothing to heaven or earth, not even the patriarchs anymore. But I owe her mother. She's gone. How can I repay that? I can only put what I owe her into our daughter."
Old Man Yang chuckled, "With your status and ability, plus your relationship with the Chen Clan of Yingyin, finding your wife's reincarnation isn't impossible, is it?"
Ruan Qiong shook his head, "Her previous life's talent was poor. She died before reaching the Middle Five Realms. Even if she reincarnated as a human, there's no chance she'd awaken past-life memories. In my eyes, without those memories, only a shell remains—that's not my wife anymore. What's the point of finding her? She'll live in my heart."
Old Man Yang nodded, "You've made peace with it. The Tenth Floor of the Martial Path is the hardest to break. It's no wonder you surpassed your peers."
Ruan Qiong didn't want to linger on this topic, so he asked, "Do you think that guy was bluffing?"
Old Man Yang shook his head with a smile, "That would be underestimating him. A grassroots hero might risk everything to drag an emperor off his throne. This one, I suspect, would risk everything to drag the Dao Ancestor and the Buddha off theirs. Of course, I'm only talking about his nature, not his ability."
Ruan Qiong was skeptical.
Old Man Yang pointed his pipe at the ground outside the temple entrance, where a well-trodden path lay, and said slowly, "This guy is different from us. He thinks he's walking a single-plank bridge. So when he meets someone on a narrow path, he feels he'd be letting himself down if he didn't beat them to death. If someone tries to overtake him from behind, it's also a dead end. You can't simply call him good or evil."
Ruan Qiong suddenly jumped to another question, "Chen Ping'an's parents were ordinary townsfolk born and raised. How did his father know about the mystery of the Destiny Porcelain and insist on breaking it at the cost of his life? Obviously, someone deliberately revealed the heavenly secret to make him do it."
Old Man Yang was silent for a long time, exhaling smoke after smoke, before finally saying, "At first, I thought it was just a common family dispute. By the time I realized something was wrong, it was too late. But I didn't want to get involved in that murky scheming—just something to pass the time, a little mental exercise. It was all part of the grand plan against Qi Jingchun, seemingly a minor idle move. But in the end, it turned out to be the real killing stroke. In the words of Go masters, a 'divine move.' To be precise, it wasn't just aimed at Qi Jingchun's good fortune, but at the literary luck of the Saint Wen's lineage. Now, after Qi Jingchun's dazzling final battle, everyone equates his life and death with the survival of that literary line. And that's not far off."
The old man looked at the solemn Martial Sage and said, "When you entered the Pearl of Li Cave Heaven early, I suspected you might be part of the scheme. Either Wind Snow Temple and the Chen Clan of Yingyin made a deal, forcing you to contribute for your sect, or you secretly gained great benefits from the 'worldly pure Confucian' Chen Clan of Yingyin, so you established your school here."
Ruan Qiong smiled frankly, "Senior Yang overcomplicates things."
The old man sneered, "Overcomplicating isn't the same as being wrong. The only reason you can still have a clear conscience is that you Martial Artists are good at simplifying complexity. One day, when the truth comes to light, you might realize you were just another pawn."
Ruan Qiong's resolve remained firm as a rock. He laughed loudly, "No matter. If the Chen Clan of Yingyin or any force dares to toy with me as a pawn on their chessboard, once I've secured my daughter's future, I'll fight my way there one day!"
Ruan Qiong sneered inwardly, "If that's the case, it suits me fine. One hundred years—at most a hundred—and I'll forge that sword. Where can't I go? Who can't I kill?"
Ruan Qiong withdrew his thoughts and asked curiously, "Could that Mud Vase Alley boy truly be Qi Jingchun's karmic successor?"
Old Man Yang lifted his pipe, tapped it lightly on the wooden chair, changed the tobacco from his waist pouch, and said irritably, "Who knows?"
Ruan Qiong knew that this inscrutable old man had accumulated countless secrets over the long years.
Ruan Qiong smiled, "To enter the small town, each person must first pay a bag of gold-and-essence copper coins to the gatekeeper. This generation's gatekeeper is that man named Zheng Dafeng. I know these precious coins don't end up in the Da Li emperor's pocket, so Senior Yang, you're the one pocketing them? What do you use them for?"
The old man countered, "Let me ask you, Ruan Qiong: how exactly are you forging that sword in your mind? Would you answer that?"
Ruan Qiong laughed heartily.
Old Man Yang said calmly, "I want to move this temple."
Ruan Qiong was taken aback but quickly replied, "As long as you don't move it outside the town, I have no objection."
The old man nodded and smiled, "Since you're so generous, I'll tell you a little secret."
Ruan Qiong nodded, indicating he was willing to listen.
The old man exhaled a thick cloud of smoke that dissipated and then wispily enshrouded the entire temple. In fact, a thin white mist had already been covering the temple; the old man had clearly strengthened the concealment out of caution. He sighed and slowly began, "Do you know what Qi Jingchun's greatest strength was?"
Ruan Qiong smiled, "Naturally, his talent, comprehension, and terrifying cultivation. Otherwise, how would those big shots up there have been willing to join forces against him?"
The old man shook his head, "Suppose Chen Ping'an truly is the one Qi Jingchun chose. Then out there, someone used Chen Ping'an as a brilliant move—seemingly idle for ten years, but carefully managed in secret. Even I was used during that time. The beauty of it is that this person plays chess outside the board. Once a piece is placed and takes root, it's no longer a rigid chess piece—it gradually develops its own qi and becomes less and less like a piece, making the killing move more and more hidden. Moreover, next to this piece, there's another key piece that seems extremely powerful: Song Jixin, on whom the Da Li emperor staked the entire Song Clan's hopes, helping to draw attention and ultimately creating a perfect situation of 'dark under the lamp.'"
Ruan Qiong's face grew heavy, "Qi Jingchun was said to be someone with the potential to establish a school and become a patriarch. Though some deliberately praised him to set him up for a fall, it wasn't entirely baseless. How could he not have noticed any clues?"
"These twists and turns, I've only figured out now. Interesting, truly interesting! If I, an observer, feel this way, what about the player?" The old man suddenly laughed, even coughing a little, slapping his thigh and tutting, "But the player saw it all early on. Qi Jingchun, that scholar, was anything but honest. Do you know what he did before he died? He deliberately went to my place. Besides giving Chen Ping'an two landscape seals full of deep meaning, he then walked part of the way with Chen Ping'an, said one sentence, and left it for Chen Ping'an. Ruan Qiong, take a guess?"
Ruan Qiong was thoroughly intrigued, but he said, "I can't guess Qi Jingchun's thoughts."
Old Man Yang sighed, "Qi Jingchun said, 'A gentleman can be deceived by what seems right.'"
Ruan Qiong thought about it, initially dismissing it. But moments later, his expression changed slightly. Finally, he clenched his fists, his face flushed, and shook his head helplessly, "I'm not his match. I have to admit defeat."
The old man nodded, his gaze distant, "The first meaning: let Chen Ping'an tell me, or everyone, that within the rules, however they dealt with Qi Jingchun—victory or defeat, life or death—he had long seen through it all."
The old man stood up and said solemnly, "The second meaning: for Chen Ping'an ten or even a hundred years later, telling him that even if he later learns the truth—that he was the very piece that truly killed Qi Jingchun—he need not blame himself, because Qi Jingchun knew everything from the beginning."
Ruan Qiong abruptly stood and strode away, "Damn it! Qi Jingchun died so pathetically. If I had his skills, I'd have stomped through Eastern Treasured Vial Continent and punched through the Bright World! So stifling—I'm going drinking!"
The old man smiled, walked out of the temple with one hand behind his back, and lightly flicked the other hand. The temple vanished into thin air, absorbed into his palm, which he gently closed.
"Da Li Chancellor Cui Chan, once the leading disciple of the Confucian Saint Wen. I think your cultivation goes beyond this too, right? I'll be watching."
---
Old Man Yang, who rarely left the small town, walked onto the stone arch bridge. His figure was more hunched and stooped, his expression solemn, silent.
He crossed the stone bridge twice, both times with a light demeanor. When he stepped off and headed back to the town, his face was sad. He murmured to himself, "Is it truly that if you miss the opportunity, it won't come again? Even Ma Kuxuan, who was born with fortune, doesn't have the right to see you? Not even if he only becomes your fellow traveler, not your master? Not even that?"
"Who exactly are you waiting for, to nod your head? Not counting the five thousand years of accumulation before, the Pearl of Li Cave Heaven has existed for three thousand years alone! Three thousand years! In all that time, how many heroes and heroes have shone brightly in Eastern Treasured Vial Continent? With your help, could they not have risen several more floors? Above the eleventh and twelfth floors, even two floors more—what realm would that be?"
The stone bridge was silent.
Beneath the bridge hung the iron sword, motionless.
The old man let out a soft breath and laughed at himself, "What a saying: 'When fortune leaves, heroes are not free.' Enough. Since it's like this, live or die on your own. Save me the worry of good and bad intertwined, ruining the little karmic connection we have left. This way, it's also good—a small gamble is pleasant, and I won't have to fear losing everything."
---
Chen Ping'an, carrying his medium-sized backpack, returned from the small hill. On the way, he noticed that the temple had vanished. The boy looked around blankly, confirming he hadn't mistaken the location. The little temple where people rested had truly been moved as if someone had picked up a stone and carried it away. But by now, Chen Ping'an had seen so many strange things that he just had to get used to it.
Chen Ping'an went to the blacksmith's shop. First, he visited the mud hut where he had stored his belongings, taking what he needed and leaving what he should. Then he went out and found the little girl in the red cotton jacket, Li Baoping.
Li Baoping stood before him, her little head raised high, her face full of excitement.
The little girl was already loaded with various embroidery pouches and sachets around her—seven or eight of them—and carried a small basket covered with a rainproof bamboo hat, hiding the contents. He guessed that the girl had suggested it, and Ruan Xiu had helped pack them up.
The green-clad girl Ruan Xiu stood beside the red-jacketed girl, looking especially festive.
Chen Ping'an looked at the little girl and smiled, "Did you bring food?"
Li Baoping nodded proudly, "Most of the basket is filled with snacks Sister Ruan gave me! The rest are books—not heavy... not that heavy!"
Chen Ping'an said, "When you get tired of carrying it, tell me."
The girl puffed out her chest heroically, "How could I ever get tired!"
Ruan Xiu said softly, "The map of northern Eastern Treasured Vial Continent, the state and county maps of Da Li and Da Sui, and a few smaller maps are all in Li Baoping's basket. Once you cross the Da Li border, you'll need to ask for directions often. Fortunately, Li Baoping knows the Da Li official language and the Common Elegant Speech used throughout Eastern Treasured Vial Continent, so it shouldn't be a big problem. Also, I put some silver and copper coins inside. Compared to the gold-and-essence copper coins you gave my father, they're nothing, so Chen Ping'an, don't refuse."
Chen Ping'an smiled knowingly, "I'm not stupid. Who would refuse money?"
Ruan Xiu said indignantly, "You're not stupid?! For people who have nothing to do with you..."
But as soon as the hurtful words left her mouth, the girl regretted it terribly and quickly stopped, not finishing.
Because not far away stood the four school children who wouldn't be traveling with them.
Chen Ping'an, who had been subtly signaling her, breathed a sigh of relief and said softly, "About what I mentioned yesterday, I'll trouble you, Miss Ruan."
Ruan Xiu nodded, "Don't worry. I'll keep those keys safe and clean the house every now and then."
Chen Ping'an took a deep breath and said to Li Baoping, "Let's go."
Li Baoping said happily, "Let's go!"
One big, one small, their backpacks also one big, one small.
In everyone's sight, they walked farther and farther away.
Heading south to Da Sui.
Along the way, the little girl chattered endlessly. First, about interesting things in the small town, then finally about study tours. She said in a mature tone, "Scholars on study tours, especially the older ones, need to carry a sword for self-defense. And it shows they are skilled in both civil and military arts."
Chen Ping'an laughed, "Right, that's for you scholars. I'm not one."
The little girl was stunned. She fell silent.
It seemed this truth made her very disheartened.
---
Cui Chan bought a jug of good liquor at a tavern in the small town and slowly ambled toward Second Son Alley.
When he reached the Yuan family's ancestral house, he paused for a moment while unlocking it, then still smiled and pushed the door open.
He walked in quickly, closed the door, and went to the pond. He saw the man standing under the plaque in the main hall, ethereal and shimmering. Cui Chan sat on a chair by the pond, opened the jug, sniffed it, then turned and smiled, "Even if only a wisp of remnant soul remains, gatecrashing a private residence uninvited is hardly the act of a gentleman, Qi Jingchun, Qi Junior Brother, am I right?"
The man turned around. His face was faintly discernible—it was the elegant scholar-teacher Qi Jingchun, also the master of Cliff Mountain Academy who had single-handedly defied the heavens.
Qi Jingchun smiled, "That day, you and Cui Minghuang were ostensibly putting on a show for Wu Yuan, but really for me. Was it tiring?"
Cui Chan pulled up a chair and sat down, grinning, "Oh? So what did you see?"
Qi Jingchun stood by the north side of the pond, facing Cui Chan on the south side, and asked, "Why did your cultivation drop from the Qi Practitioner's Twelfth Floor all the way down to the Tenth Floor?"
Cui Chan leaned back in his chair, shaking the jug held between two fingers, "Isn't it because of our scholarly master? Who would have thought you'd already opened a new path? So when the master's divine statue kept falling, you weren't affected—instead, your realm kept climbing. As for me, even after betraying the sect so long, I couldn't escape the influence of his school and lineage. The most despairing thing is that I realized I never in this life have the hope of surpassing or defeating the master with my own learning. What could I do? I couldn't just watch the master's burial, right? The problem is, the collapse of his divine statue had an effect like a mountain falling into a lake—the waves huge. Almost no one could dodge it except someone like you, who's already ashore. I was no exception. So I thought of a small trick. What do you think, Junior Brother?"
Qi Jingchun nodded, "Using another's stone to polish jade, breaking your own obsession."
Cui Chan's gaze sharpened, and he stopped shaking the jug.
Qi Jingchun sighed, "The best outcome would be for your learning to surpass the master and me, earning the recognition of heaven, earth, man, and gods. But unfortunately, you couldn't manage that. Second best: you wanted the master's literary lineage to end with me, so you could take it over. Even if you couldn't reach the master's high seat in the Temple of Culture, it would still be a thousand times better than being a mere Da Li chancellor. Finally, you used someone as your own shadow, then entered meditative contemplation in the Buddhist style. If that person could hold fast to their original heart, it would mean you held fast at a certain juncture, eventually becoming your opportunity to rise from the Tenth Floor to the Eleventh Floor."
Qi Jingchun shook his head, "Cui Chan, do you think this transaction of yours is guaranteed to be profitable? I know you've already prepared backup plans. Even if Chen Ping'an maintains a pure and firm state of mind, you'll still have contingencies—like magnifying the flaws of those children, constantly eroding Chen Ping'an's mind, like grinding a mirror with a stone until its surface is rough and shattered. If Chen Ping'an is the scholar I chose to pass the torch to, you can succeed and absorb all the literary luck of the master and me, far more than the third method of Buddhist contemplation."
Cui Chan's face turned ashen.
Qi Jingchun smiled, "If you're willing to let go now, I can promise you the third outcome. Though it's the worst relatively, for you, Cui Chan, it's still a great blessing. After all these years of scheming and grubbing, you'll finally get what you want."
Cui Chan stood up and sneered, "Qi Jingchun, you're about to be scattered to the winds—half human, half ghost! You dare to bargain with me?"
Qi Jingchun's expression was calm, "One last chance."
Cui Chan's face twisted hideously, "You dare to break my heart?"
Qi Jingchun's expression was sorrowful. He said softly, "Senior Brother Cui."
Cui Chan suddenly smashed his wine jug to the ground, stepped forward, and pointed at Qi Jingchun, separated by a pond below and a courtyard skylight above. He shouted fiercely, "I don't believe you, Qi Jingchun, can beat me!"
Qi Jingchun placed one hand behind his back and swept his other sleeve. The wine spilling at Cui Chan's feet slid into the pond, forming a shimmering, rippling water curtain.
Exactly like Cui Chan had done before.
True to their former brotherhood.
Every gesture was filled with the elegance of scholars.
In the water curtain appeared the boy with his backpack and the little girl.
The little girl in the red cotton jacket was walking sideways, looking up at the boy, asking endless questions.
The straw-sandaled boy smiled and patiently answered her wild, imaginative questions. When he didn't know something, he simply said he didn't.
The boy wasn't embarrassed, and the girl didn't find it boring.
Qi Jingchun asked, "Cui Chan, you still don't understand?"
Cui Chan stared at the image, his face pale, his lips trembling, murmuring, "This is impossible!"
Then he looked up. The handsome young chancellor, with a mole on his forehead, had a face twisted into something terrifying. "Qi Jingchun, you chose a woman as your sole legitimate disciple?!"
Qi Jingchun looked at that unfamiliar young face and smiled in return, "What's wrong with that?!"
Cui Chan took a deep breath, a smirk curling at his lips, "But the boy's nature remains unchanged. At worst, I'll withdraw all my plans and instead help him find whetstones along the way. I can still win! Just a smaller victory. What, Qi Jingchun? Are you going to harm Chen Ping'an just to block my path?"
Cui Chan's face was manic, triumphant. "Haha! My fate is bound to that Mud Vase Alley boy! Qi Jingchun, how can you fight me?!"
Qi Jingchun said flatly, "I advise you to sever this connection now. It's not too late to stop. At worst, you'll fall from the Tenth Floor to the Sixth Floor, still in the Middle Five Realms."
Cui Chan's face darkened, "Qi Jingchun, have you lost your mind?"
Qi Jingchun glanced at Cui Chan, sighed, raised two fingers, and gently flicked.
The straw-sandaled boy and the red-jacketed girl in the image were unaware, but Cui Chan watched in horror as a jade hairpin suddenly appeared in the boy's bun, quietly tucked in.
Cui Chan stood frozen, struck dumb with shock and fear. He stretched out a trembling hand, pointing at Qi Jingchun, "Qi Jing..."
He couldn't even force out the last word, "Chun."
In an instant.
Cui Chan's Dao heart nearly shattered, and blood flowed from his seven orifices.
He collapsed back into the chair, hurriedly forming a Treasure Vessel seal with his hands in front of his chest, hoarsely whispering, "Settle soul, stabilize spirit!"
Qi Jingchun looked up at the skylight, not looking at Cui Chan, who was a miserable sight. He said, "Remember this lesson. Within sixty years, if you dare to secretly trip him again, I'll have ways to drop you from the Fifth Floor of Qi Practitioners down to an ordinary mortal. Of course, with your stubborn nature—you won't believe it until you hit the wall and break through it—it's up to you. The first time I told you not to lose faith in the master, you didn't believe, and you fell in realm. Before I came to the Pearl of Li Cave Heaven, I told you not to strike at Cliff Mountain Academy. You didn't believe that either. So this time, the choice is yours."
Qi Jingchun left the Yuan ancestral house in Second Son Alley, walking the human world for the last time. He went first to the schoolhouse, then to the stone arch bridge, then to his junior brother Ma Zhan's grave. Finally, he also went to the heavens.
At the very end.
Qi Jingchun returned to the ground, silently walking beside the straw-sandaled boy and the red-jacketed girl, keeping pace with them.
But they didn't know.
With each step they took, Teacher Qi's figure dissipated a little.
He finally stopped, watching the two figures heading south. This scholar felt worry, regret, reluctance, comfort, and pride.
He gently waved his hand, a silent farewell.
That's that.
It's fine.
---
"Hey! When did you get a jade hairpin tucked in your hair?!"
"Huh? I don't know!"
"When did that happen? Chen Ping'an! Are you actually rich?"
"Not really. At least not anymore. My rich days only lasted a few days."
"Fine. Then how about that wooden sword sticking out of your basket?"
"I don't know that either."
"Chen Ping'an! If you keep this up, I really won't like you today!"
"Honestly, I really don't know..."
"Forget it. I'll just stop liking you tomorrow instead."
"..."
Amid green mountains and clear waters, a young boy walked with a little girl by his side.