Chapter 88: Making a Grand Entrance
Chen Ping'an glanced at the green bamboo scabbard hanging at the waist of this uninvited guest, deliberately feigning confusion, and asked, "A swordsman?"
The man held a bamboo hat in one hand and lightly tapped the hilt of his blade with the other. Smiling, he replied, "For now, I can't find a sword worthy of me, so I have to settle for this substitute to disgrace all those who use blades."
Hearing this familiar tone of voice, Chen Ping'an actually breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that Liu Baqiao should be able to be good friends with this man.
Behind Chen Ping'an and Li Baoping, the father and daughter walked slowly side by side. The young girl Zhu Lu sneered disapprovingly, "A dragon king yawns and can swallow an entire river—quite the big talk, isn't it? Dad, is this guy's brain broken?"
Zhu He saw that on the other side of the man's waist hung a silver-white gourd, palm-sized, polished to an oily sheen. It looked like an old curio that had seen many years. He whispered to his daughter, "Although I can't detect anything unusual about his qi flow—it's just a bit more prolonged than ordinary people—we still need to be cautious. I've never traveled far in my life, but I've heard many tales of the martial world from the old ancestors. They say when walking the jianghu, you need to be wary of Daoist nuns, old monks, children, and drunkards. Beyond that, the more someone doesn't look like a grandmaster, the less you should let your guard down."
The young girl acknowledged with an "oh," feeling both nervous and excited. She almost wished the unremarkable man were an assassin or killer, just so he could serve as a whetstone for her first foray into the world.
Chen Ping'an asked, "Are you looking for me?"
The man grinned and said, "I'll see you to the border of Great Sui. Until then, we'll travel together so we can look out for each other."
Chen Ping'an probed, "Do you know Master Ruan, the blacksmith?"
The man nodded. "Of course I do."
Chen Ping'an breathed another sigh of relief.
Before leaving the town, as part of their agreement, Master Ruan had promised to ensure his safety until they reached the important military stronghold of Wild Husband Pass on the border of Great Li.
Chen Ping'an believed Master Ruan wouldn't break his word, especially since this man had appeared so early—almost under Master Ruan's nose. So he probably wasn't from one of the three factions: Bright Sun Mountain, Cloud Gorge Mountain, or Old Dragon City. Moreover, the timely appearance of Zhu He and his daughter Zhu Lu gave Chen Ping'an considerable confidence.
But Chen Ping'an feared the worst.
So he asked, "How about you accompany me back to town to see Master Ruan first, and then we'll head south? As it happens, I just learned that if you go out the east gate of the town, although it's a detour, there's a post road you can take. Oxcarts and horse-drawn carriages can travel it, which is actually faster than crossing mountains and streams."
The man smiled slyly. "So cautious? Not at all like a true child of the jianghu."
Chen Ping'an didn't turn his head, keeping his eyes fixed on the man, but he said firmly, "Zhu He, can you have Zhu Lu take Baoping back to town first? There's no rush."
Zhu He quickly understood the situation. Nodding, he said, "That would be best."
Then he said to his daughter, "Lu'er, take the young lady back first. Chen Ping'an and I will keep this Brother A Liang company. Whether it's drinking or sparring, meeting is fate; neither would be excessive."
The little girl in the red cotton-padded jacket, held by Zhu Lu, didn't hesitate or cry out to stay with her little master. She simply tugged at Chen Ping'an's sleeve, softly said the two words "be careful," and then decisively followed Zhu Lu as they hurried away. Li Baoping was not one to dawdle. It was the maid, brave as a newborn calf, who was filled with disappointment, wishing she could trade places with her father.
Seeing this farewell scene, the man rolled his eyes. He took down the gourd, leaned against the white donkey, took a sip of wine, and sneered, "Just let the little girl take the kid away. In the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the three of us grown men can head to town."
Then the man raised the silver-white gourd in his hand, patted the donkey's back, and looked at Zhu He, laughing, "You're considered a decent hand in your own right, aren't you? Don't you recognize this thing?"
He patted his own head. "I forgot you just opened Li Zhu Cave Heaven—it's a wonder you'd know. No matter, no matter. We can chat slowly. We have plenty of time."
The man pointed to the old willow tree extending horizontally over the stream. "How about we go there to sit and chat?"
Chen Ping'an and Zhu He exchanged a glance, thinking this would be best—they could observe the situation calmly.
The man led his white donkey and followed behind Chen Ping'an and Zhu He to the old willow. He let go of the reins, allowing the donkey to graze freely. He walked onto the willow trunk, following the main branch out over the stream bank, and finally sat down. After putting his bamboo hat back on, he lifted the silver-white gourd and was about to tilt his head back for a drink when he turned around, offering the gourd, and asked with a smile, "Anyone want a sip? Enjoying alone isn't as good as enjoying together. Two taels of silver for two ounces of this Gui Kang Immortal Brew—it's the favorite drink of all the wealthy men of Great Sui. I've been heading northward, drinking and tasting no fewer than a hundred different wines, but this Immortal Brew is the most authentic."
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "I don't drink."
Zhu He also shook his head. "My martial arts haven't reached full maturity yet; I dare not drink."
The man shook his head along with them, looking at them with great regret. "So you're neither of you men of true temperament. Not long ago, I met a young hero—now he was truly suave and elegant..."
The man suddenly noticed Chen Ping'an and Zhu He's strange expressions. He was a bit puzzled but didn't want to lose the bearing of a master, so he took a drink to cover his confusion.
Chen Ping'an cleared his throat lightly. The man asked, "What's wrong?"
Chen Ping'an extended a finger, pointing to the very tip of the crooked old willow tree.
The man frowned, turned to look, and saw two legs blocking his view. His face instantly stiffened. He looked up sharply and saw a middle-aged man with a blank expression, weighing at least one hundred fifty or sixty pounds, standing lightly on a willow branch no thicker than a finger. This person's sudden appearance startled the hat-wearing man, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the stream, utterly disgraced.
The newcomer was none other than the military sage Ruan Qiong. As Old Man Yang had said, he had no interest in the movements within a thousand li of mountains and rivers—unless it was a rule-breaking provocation like Cui Chan's. Ruan Qiong, focused on sword casting, would only act then. Ruan Qiong didn't think anyone would dare to strike at Chen Ping'an within a hundred li—that would be slapping Ruan Qiong in the face. And the dignity of an eleventh-level military swordsman was no lighter than that of an entire dynasty. So Ruan Qiong had hardly bothered to watch over this scene. A straw-sandal boy and an innocent, cheerful little girl traveling together—how could that be worth his personal attention?
But Ruan Qiong had been drawn here by something.
When someone had flashed that object, Ruan Qiong immediately sensed the vast sword aura within it—pure, vast, and exceptionally familiar, carrying a feeling of intimacy and sorrow. Ruan Qiong had cultivated in his sect for many years and, though he had never seen it with his own eyes, he had long heard of such things. So he had rushed over from the blacksmith shop.
Now, seeing the man behaving even worse than a common scholar, Ruan Qiong, far from mocking him, grew more serious. He asked, "Are you Wei Jin of the Immortal Terrace?"
The man who had fallen into the stream flailed about, finally managing to stand upright. He picked up the gourd from the stream, took off his hat and shook it, then looked up at the perpetrator and said irritably, "My name is A Liang."
Ruan Qiong looked down at him appraisingly and asked, "Could I borrow a couple of drinks from you?"
The man tossed the gourd high toward Ruan Qiong. "What's the harm? But remember to return it."
Ruan Qiong caught the gourd, took a drink, and smiled. "It's not Five Yellow Wine?"
At this, the man's temper flared. Rolling his eyes, he said, "The price went up."
Ruan Qiong burst into laughter, tossed the gourd back, and asked, "How did you get here so quickly? I thought it would take at least ten days."
The man who called himself A Liang came ashore dripping wet, cursing as he walked, "What's it to you? So what if you're a sage?"
Ruan Qiong asked, "Want to come to my shop for a sit? My daughter admires you greatly."
A Liang pointed at himself, grinning. "Me? Then your daughter has excellent taste."
Ruan Qiong, seemingly well-aware of this man's absurdity, asked, "Is it you, then, handling the matter of Dragon Ridge Mountain?"
A Liang waved dismissively. "Not me. Someone else."
Ruan Qiong looked at the hat-wearing man, who seemed in low spirits, and suddenly laughed. "Could it be that on your journey north, you encountered that little Daoist nun?"
A Liang's expression remained unchanged. "What are you talking about? I don't understand."
Ruan Qiong sighed inwardly, stopped probing, and said no more.
Ruan Qiong's own sect, Snow Wind Temple, had a famous swordsman, young and gifted, who rarely stayed within the sect. Even within Snow Wind Temple, there were those who didn't know his name. As a youth, he had been spotted by an old ancestor of Snow Wind Temple who was traveling down the mountain and taken as a closed-door disciple, granting him an extremely high seniority. When he first went up the mountain, he was barely of age, and many cultivators over a hundred years old had to meekly call him "grandmaster." Later, when that old founding ancestor of Snow Wind Temple failed in his breakthrough, and the lineage declined in talent, the young swordsman's relationship with Snow Wind Temple grew even more distant.
This man would wander the jianghu for seven or eight years at a time, only appearing at the sect occasionally on the anniversary of his master's death. He remained a loner, never greeting anyone even when he returned to Snow Wind Temple. It was said that he had long ago obtained a priceless Sword-nurturing Gourd, yet instead of using it to nourish flying swords, he wasted it, filling it with thousands of catties of strong wine, spending at least half the year thoroughly drunk. Thus he was known as the Drunken Sword Immortal. When drunk, he would let a white donkey carry him wherever it pleased.
Before leaving Snow Wind Temple, Ruan Qiong had heard that this man, for some unknown reason, had fallen in love at first sight with a young Daoist nun hailed as "the one whose fortune surpasses an entire continent." He had become hopelessly entangled, but unfortunately, it was one-sided. The beautiful Daoist nun had no interest in finding a Dao partner. This incident became a sensational piece of gossip among the mountains of Bottle Gourd Continent.
Ruan Qiong thought for a moment, then said, "In that case, I'll trouble you to escort them to Wild Husband Pass of Great Li."
The man nodded.
Ruan Qiong clasped his hands in farewell and vanished in a flash.
Only the willow branches swayed gently.
Zhu He asked cautiously, "Senior A Liang... are you an immortal from Snow Wind Temple?"
The man led his donkey, yawning lazily. "I'm not familiar with Snow Wind Temple."
Zhu He smiled, not at all embarrassed.
Martial artists in the world often had poor impressions of Qi refiners, but for the cultivators of Snow Wind Temple and True Martial Mountain, they still had to give a thumbs-up.
Previously, Zhu He might have thought this man had a mouth bigger than the sky and an affected demeanor. But after Sage Ruan Qiong's visit, Zhu He now looked back and saw the unremarkable hat-wearing man before him as a true hidden master, a great immortal concealed among the city market. He guessed that the long blade in the green bamboo scabbard must be a divine weapon that, once drawn, would shock the world.
A Liang took a big swig of wine to warm himself and said to Chen Ping'an, "That little girl is coming back."
Chen Ping'an turned to look. Not only were Li Baoping and Zhu Lu returning the way they came, but there were also two familiar faces and a mule with heavy bundles hanging from both sides.
Li Huai and Lin Shouyi.
Chen Ping'an jogged over. Li Baoping looked gloomy, while Zhu Lu spoke in a clear voice, "We ran into these two children on the way. They said they want to go with the young lady to study at Cliff Academy. Our old ancestor just showed up and greeted us, telling me to come back and find you."
Chen Ping'an didn't ask who Zhu Lu's "old ancestor" was. He looked at the sly Li Huai and the noble-born-looking Lin Shouyi.
Li Huai stiffened his neck and said righteously, "If I don't tag along with you lot for food, am I supposed to become a beggar begging in town?"
Lin Shouyi remained cold as ever, saying, "Fortune favors the bold."
Li Baoping snorted coldly. "You two can set out from the east gate and go to the academy yourselves. Why should Little Master and I have to bring two dead weights like you?"
Li Huai fumed, "Li Baoping! At least we've survived life-and-death situations together!"
Lin Shouyi, not as shameless as Li Huai, admitted frankly, "Neither Li Huai nor I could even make it to the border of Great Li, let alone Cliff Academy."
Chen Ping'an nodded, lightly pressing his hand on Li Baoping's head to stop her from speaking, and then asked, "So Shi Chunjia and Dong Shuijing have decided not to come?"
Lin Shouyi explained, "At the New Year's Money Shop, someone will take Shi Chunjia to the capital. As for Dong Shuijing, I heard that the town's village school might reopen, so he's taking your part-time job at the blacksmith's."
Chen Ping'an looked at the three schoolchildren—Li Baoping, Li Huai, and Lin Shouyi—and smiled. "Then let's all set off together."
A Liang brought his white donkey back from the stream and, upon seeing Li Huai and Lin Shouyi, said with reluctance, "It's one thing to bring along an extra cute little girl, but what's the deal with you two little bastards?"
Li Huai cursed loudly, "Who do you think you are?! Some random green onion?!"
A Liang replied without changing expression, "I'm your long-lost father. Your real father."
Li Huai looked thunderstruck, staring fixedly at the stranger.
The man, in turn, was unnerved by the stare. Could it be that this little bastard's parents really had some unspeakable story?
Li Huai quickly changed his stunned expression, curled his lip, and gave the hat-wearing man a sidelong glance, full of disdain. He muttered, "Trying to mess with me?"
The man, having been outdone, clicked his tongue. "Huh, shallow water, plenty of little turtles."
Li Huai clasped his hands behind his head and chanted, "Not listening, not listening—old turtle's chanting."
Without any warning, Chen Ping'an asked, "A Liang, how come you speak the dialect of our town?"
The man grinned. "Go ask Ruan Qiong."
Chen Ping'an looked at him and suddenly smiled. "Never mind."
The man pointed a finger at Chen Ping'an, lecturing, "So young, yet carrying such a heavy mind—that's not good."
The man who called himself a swordsman but carried a blade, and his white donkey.
Chen Ping'an and Li Baoping, each carrying a backpack; Li Huai and Lin Shouyi, empty-handed; and behind them, the father-daughter pair, Zhu He and Zhu Lu.
Seven people of vastly different statuses, heading south together.
Because this A Liang, who came from the same place as Master Ruan, said the road here hadn't been difficult, and following the Iron Talisman River south, they would soon see the Great Li post road being built day and night.
Still, A Liang was willing to listen to Chen Ping'an's opinions on when to rest.
During a break, Li Huai ran over to the hat-wearing man, fearless, hands on his hips, and asked, "Hey! A Liang, is this donkey of yours male or female?"
The man didn't exactly dislike the kid, but he was a bit annoyed. "None of your damn business."
"Let me ride it for a bit?"
"Even I'm not willing to ride it myself. What makes you think you can? Do you really think you're my own son?"
"If you give me the donkey, I'll have my mother remarry. How about that? Of course, if my mother doesn't agree, that's not my fault. But the donkey's still mine."
"Get lost, you and your mother!"
"A Liang, I'm not saying this to criticize you, but you really need to work on your temper."
Li Huai clasped his hands behind his back, shook his head, sighed, and walked away.
Leaving behind a hat-wearing man with his eyes wide open.
---
By the stream, two people walked toward the blacksmith shop. One was Ruan Qiong, the other was a white-haired old man with a ruddy complexion. The latter was the "old ancestor" Zhu Lu had mentioned—the true pillar of the Li family, one of the four great clans of the town.
The Li family would never let their precious treasure Li Baoping be guarded only by that father-daughter pair. If Master Ruan hadn't shown up today, the Li family ancestor, who had achieved success in Qi cultivation, would have escorted her all the way to Wild Husband Pass.
The old man smiled bitterly. "Master Ruan, is this the helper you invited from Snow Wind Temple? He looks…"
Ruan Qiong cut him off bluntly. "Not like an expert at all. More like a street punk, right?"
Ruan Qiong continued slowly, "When I took the gourd to drink, I checked carefully. The natal sword aura inside that Sword-nurturing Gourd is still alive—it's definitely authentic from Snow Wind Temple. Besides, the Immortal Terrace lineage of Snow Wind Temple has always had few people. Wei Jin dislikes socializing and prefers wandering the jianghu. Having an eccentric personality is easy to explain. Although there are vile methods in the world where someone can kill and successfully seize a natal object, Wei Jin's cultivation is definitely not low. To successfully take his Sword-nurturing Gourd and that thread of sword aura from him…"
Ruan Qiong laughed. "Then even if I, Ruan Qiong, intervened today, I wouldn't be able to stop that person from doing whatever they wanted."
The old man sighed. "Don't say that. If the Three Teachings and One Family hadn't taken away the Suppression Object, and the formation was still intact, many things wouldn't be so restrictive for you, Master Ruan."
Ruan Qiong thought for a moment. "Later, I still need to meet with the people from the Giant Salam Valley lineage of Snow Wind Temple to get a better picture. They should be nearby by now. And it's convenient to talk about the matter of dividing the Dragon-Slaying Platform at Dragon Ridge Mountain without the True Martial Mountain people around. In the meantime, if there's any trouble in town, please find Xiuxiu, Old Li, and have her send a flying sword message."
Snow Wind Temple and True Martial Mountain were the two great military ancestral grounds of East Bottle Gourd Continent, one in the north and one in the south. Their relationship was neither good nor bad, generally following the principle of well water not interfering with river water. Of course, at critical moments involving major principles, they would set aside sectarian views and choose to fight together.
True Martial Mountain placed more emphasis on the development of secular dynasties below the mountains. The Great Li dynasty had many cultivators from True Martial Mountain within its borders. The fallen Lu dynasty, and under Great Sui's Gao family, there were also shadows of True Martial Mountain cultivators—mostly personal guards of battlefield generals or mid-level military officers wielding real power.
Snow Wind Temple, on the other hand, leaned toward cultivating themselves in solitude, traveling between major ancient battlefield ruins. They were somewhat like wandering knights-errant of the jianghu, possessing supreme martial arts, acting according to their own whims. When happy, they would slay demons and uphold justice; when unhappy, they would seek out someone to debate Dao techniques and swordplay. They often barged into mountain gates uninvited—whether the host agreed or not, they had to spar first before anything else. However, these eccentric fellows from Snow Wind Temple didn't fight for fame and wouldn't kill. So even if they beat someone black and blue, there was no need to worry about the family's shame being aired.
Regarding the flying sword, the old man asked doubtfully, "Master Ruan, at my estate, we also have several messenger flying swords of decent quality…"
Master Ruan waved his hand with a smile. "They're different. The gap is considerable."
The old man immediately understood and said shamefacedly, "Speaking of flying swords in front of Master Ruan, I've made a fool of myself."
Ruan Qiong suddenly murmured softly, "The tree desires stillness, but the wind will not cease."
---
A petite but curvaceous woman in palace attire walked through Mud Vase Alley.
Far behind her followed three people: a middle-aged man of sturdy build with a resolute expression; an old man with a beardless white face who seemed to have weak eyesight, always squinting; and a young woman carrying a long sword in her arms, with a string of golden tassels nestled just on her full chest.
The woman eventually stopped at the entrance of Song Jixin's courtyard, and said with a smile, "Stealing Spring Festival couplets—only Cui Chan would do something like that."