Chapter Ninety-Three: A Character on the Wall
On a small hillside no more than ten-odd zhang high, twenty-some people stood scattered. Their clothing and ornaments followed no fixed pattern, but their expressions and eyes were as if carved from a single mold.
A burly man knelt on one knee, carefully examining two corpses with rigid bodies. He used a finger to pry open one corpse's eyelid, revealing eyeballs like pieces of ice-crack porcelain.
A short, small woman, having changed into a set of cotton clothes like a common market woman, slowly walked up the hillside. Behind her followed the sword-bearing girl and the white-faced old man.
She did not approach the two corpses. Covering her nose, she asked with a thick nasal tone, "Wang Yifu, what do you say?"
Wang Yifu sighed. "Both were killed with a single blade strike by a master. No external damage, but their meridians are shattered, and their internal organs are completely rotted."
The woman's face darkened, her expression shifting. "Such powerful martial grandmasters have appeared in our Great Li, and two of them at that. That vassal king of ours has always been in charge of border surveillance, claiming to be vigilant. Could it be that this time he failed to catch even a single clue? Or is it possible he deliberately let the fish slip through the net?"
Wang Yifu hesitated. "Your Ladyship, if I am not mistaken, it was the work of one person."
The woman suddenly narrowed her eyes, her aura fierce. "What did you say?!"
Wang Yifu pointed at the two necks, where a faint red line appeared. "Between these two victims, the flow of energy connects seamlessly. Clearly, it was a single horizontal slash from one blade."
The woman took a deep breath, struggling to suppress her anger and murderous intent from showing too clearly. She sneered, "When did Wind Snow Temple become so invincible? Some random nobody pops out, and killing people is as easy as killing chickens? Who are these two? You, Wang Yifu, may not know, but Xu Hunran does. Come, tell us, let our General Wang hear a name that thunders in his ears."
Xu Hunran's face showed embarrassment. He steeled himself and explained, "One was a martial grandmaster who had just reached the seventh martial realm, skilled in fist techniques and adept at close combat. The other was an eight-floor Qi refiner, proficient in both flying swords and Daoist talismans. In twenty years, they jointly carried out six assassinations and never failed. They were both A-rank experts under Your Ladyship's Bamboo Leaf Pavilion."
The woman was furious, but she had been suppressing it with great effort. Now she vented her anger on this number one swordsman of Great Li, shrieking, "Xu Hunran! Report their names! Even the dead have names!"
The old man felt a chill in his heart. He lowered his head slightly. "The martial artist is named Li Hou, and the Qi refiner is named Hu Yinglin. Both have risked life and limb for Your Ladyship time and again, rendering great service to our Great Li."
Only then did the woman's expression soften slightly. However, she soon looked utterly dejected, speaking feebly, "Yes, Li Hou and Hu Yinglin. Back then, Ye Qing, the pillar of your Lu dynasty's border defenses, was killed by these two. They didn't die in enemy territory, nor on the battlefield, but on our own Great Li soil."
Perhaps realizing her loss of composure would make Wang Yifu laugh at her, she took a jab at the Lu dynasty that this general had once served. "How ridiculous. At first, we thought a figure as important as Ye Qing would have several great Qi refiners secretly protecting him. To eliminate him, I even had to join forces with my uncle. Who would have thought—from infiltrating the border, sneaking in for the kill, to making a clean getaway—the Lu dynasty showed no reaction at all. That Ye Qing merely offended a few immortal sects at the border. Was he so isolated in court as well? Doesn't the Lu emperor revere the mountain immortals the most? Why, in the end, was there only one immortal sect willing to be buried with you Lu people?"
After saying this, the woman felt refreshed and much more at ease in her heart. Indeed, she could endure hardship as long as there was someone else suffering more; she could enjoy comfort, but not if someone else was enjoying more comfort than her.
This was probably the reason she was willing to entrust one of her children to National Master Cui Chan rather than to Qi Jingchun of Cliff Academy.
Less worry, less effort—not afraid that the child would grow up to be bullied and only cry for parents.
Wang Yifu's face flickered with a hint of gloom.
General Ye Qing, a loyal minister and pillar of the state. He guarded the borders for the Lu dynasty for thirty years, stubbornly holding off three major offensives by the Great Li border army. Back then, Song Changjing nearly died in battle more than once, cursing Ye Qing as an obstinate old fool countless times. But in the end, after Ye Qing's death, the Lu court squabbled over posthumous titles for a full ten days. Even so, they didn't give him a very high honorific. Consequently, the sixty thousand elite border troops, still capable of fighting, gradually lost their morale.
Song Changjing led his army across, advancing as if through empty land. The first thing he did was personally go to Ye Qing's grave to offer wine and incense. Later, when the Great Li Ministry of Rites criticized him, Song Changjing slapped them down with a single memorial: "Does only our Great Li have heroes?"
The Great Li emperor approved with three large "good" characters, laughing heartily. After his great delight, the emperor said to the eunuch beside him with a smile, "That sentence was my imperial brother's heartfelt words. As for those characters, he must have hired a ghostwriter."
The woman had been observing this fallen dynasty's fierce general's expression all along. She nodded inwardly. Though she was not completely at ease with him because of it.
If a person lost all sense of common humanity, they must surely be harboring an unyielding ambition. What else would they do besides restore the country?
Then Wang Yifu would truly be courting death.
If Wang Yifu were merely a martial artist who only knew how to fight and kill, yet could be so meticulous as to act to such a degree, then Wang Yifu did have skill.
But she was not afraid of that either.
Old swordsman Xu Hunran asked with confusion, "Your Ladyship clearly already spoke with Master Ruan and agreed not to take action within Longquan County. We also sent word to Li Hou and Hu Yinglin to lie low for now and wait until we reached the Great Li border. Logically, Master Ruan should have granted Your Ladyship this face. It's not as if Wind Snow Temple would disregard both Your Ladyship's and Master Ruan's face, is it?"
Wang Yifu asked, "Has the detailed identity of that blade-wielding man still not been found out?"
The sword-bearing girl shook her head. "No results yet. For such matters, we can't just go knocking on Master Ruan's door, and even less can we approach that group of Wind Snow Temple military cultivators. We can only rely on Great Li's own intelligence agencies to find traces. And concerning border intelligence matters, Your Ladyship cannot easily intervene..."
She stopped there and said no more.
This touched upon the undercurrents in the highest levels of Great Li's court.
Wang Yifu asked, "Could it be that the Li family retainer named Zhu He is actually concealing his true strength?"
The woman scoffed. "That fellow at the fifth martial realm isn't worth mentioning. The Li family doesn't have the guts to cause trouble under my nose."
The old swordsman sighed. "Then this is a bit troublesome."
The woman smiled charmingly. "Troublesome? Not at all. We'll return to the capital immediately! I'll go cry to His Majesty the Emperor."
After all, it was others who had first broken Great Li's rules, so His Majesty should be willing to stand up for her.
---
Li Baoping had a brand-new little book box, so the items in her backpack needed to be relocated. Taking advantage of the rest stop, the two of them, big and small, found a secluded spot away from Li Huai and the others and secretly checked their belongings, afraid of losing or damaging anything.
Chen Ping'an also took off his backpack.
An old locust wood sword. He guessed it was a gift from Mr. Qi, because at the time, Chen Ping'an had inexplicably ended up with a jade hairpin on his head. Chen Ping'an and Li Baoping both felt it must have been Mr. Qi's doing. At ordinary times, Chen Ping'an kept the locust wood sword slanted inside his backpack, and only late at night, when all was quiet, would he take it out and place it on his knees. The boy's mind would then become calm and peaceful.
A yellow snake gallstone. When exposed to sunlight, it reflected beautiful golden veins.
The other twelve small, exquisite snake gallstones had lost their original bright colors, but their texture was still fine and not ordinary.
Li Baoping couldn't put these little trinkets down. She held the yellow snake gallstone in her palm and said, "Little Master Uncle, don't sell this one. As for the other twelve stones, even if we sell them later, we must find a buyer who knows their value. Otherwise, we'd definitely be taken advantage of."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Of course."
In the backpack was also a black long stone about a foot long. It looked very much like a Dragon-Beheading Platform, but Chen Ping'an wasn't sure. He remembered Miss Ning saying that to split a Dragon-Beheading Platform into the best whetstone in the world, not only would one need a Sword Immortal to act, but also a very valuable weapon would have to be damaged. Of course, for the boy at present, anything "very powerful" or "very precious" directly equated to being very valuable.
Just like for that girl who had returned to being a maiden, an opponent's combat power could be directly measured by how many Chen Ping'ans they were worth.
Chen Ping'an knew that this definitely wasn't something Master Ruan had given him. Did Mr. Qi send both the locust wood sword and the whetstone? Or had that white-robed, ethereal immortal woman used some supernatural technique? Or could it be a personal item secretly hidden by Miss Ruan?
Chen Ping'an had a headache.
Previously, Miss Ruan had left in Li Baoping's backpack one gold ingot, two silver ingots, and a bag of ordinary copper coins. Once, when Li Baoping accidentally opened the money bag, Chen Ping'an was horrified to discover that among them was mixed a gold essence copper coin.
This was definitely a lucky charm coin secretly left by Ruan Xiu.
Chen Ping'an was greatly startled and broke out in a cold sweat at the time. If they had been careless and never discovered the truth, and then inadvertently spent that copper coin as an ordinary one, just thinking about the consequences made Chen Ping'an want to slap himself twice.
He organized all the items, big and small, one by one, neat and proper, like a thrifty housewife tending to a small household.
Every time Li Baoping saw this, she wanted to laugh. She thought, Little Master Uncle really knows how to manage a household.
Then what kind of outstanding girl would be worthy of her Little Master Uncle in the future?
The little girl felt it was hard to find, so she was a bit sad.
A sneaky child crept over. When Li Baoping spotted him, he looked at the little book box by her feet and said to Chen Ping'an, "Chen Ping'an, if you make me a little bamboo box, bigger and nicer than Li Baoping's, I'll call you Little Master Uncle. How about it?"
Chen Ping'an glanced at him and said nothing.
Li Huai got anxious and decided to give ground. "Then as big as Li Baoping's little book box will do. That's fine, right?"
Chen Ping'an happened to notice that Li Huai's boots were already tattered, with toes poking out. He said, "I'll make you two pairs of straw sandals when we get back."
Li Huai was furious. He stomped his foot. "Who wants your lousy straw sandals? I want a book box! A book box for holding sage and classic texts! I am also Mr. Qi's disciple!"
Chen Ping'an frowned. "Go away."
Li Huai was stunned. He carefully studied Chen Ping'an's expression. After they locked eyes, Li Huai suddenly felt a bit scared and guilty. This child, who feared nothing, for the first time didn't talk back or curse. He slunk away resentfully, but after a few steps, he turned back and said matter-of-factly, "Don't forget the straw sandals. Two pairs, so I can change them."
Chen Ping'an nodded.
After Li Huai ran far away, the little girl said with admiration, "Little Master Uncle, you're amazing. You don't know this, but Li Huai, that guy—I can only beat him into submission. Arguing won't work. Even when Mr. Qi reasons with him, Li Huai doesn't like to listen."
Chen Ping'an reached out and ruffled the little girl's head. He shouldered his backpack. "Let's get moving. Two more days, and we'll see the Great Li post road."
The little girl put on her little book box.
Little girl, red cotton jacket, green bamboo box.
Actually, A Liang had been holding it in with great difficulty. He really wanted to tell this pair, big and small, that if it weren't for how cute little Baoping was, this color combination would make people die laughing.
Li Baoping suddenly said, "This Li Huai is a bit like that snot-nosed kid from your Clay Bottle Alley, Little Master Uncle."
Chen Ping'an was taken aback. He had never thought of comparing the two. After thinking carefully, he shook his head. "No, it's not the same. If you ever get a chance to meet Gu Can, you'll understand."
The little girl said "Oh." She had only mentioned it casually anyway, and soon her mind wandered to imagining what the Great Li post road was like.
Chen Ping'an, like Li Baoping, had initially thought that snot-nosed Gu Can and Li Huai were somewhat similar. But after spending more time together, he realized there was a big difference.
Li Huai and Gu Can seemed to have similar personalities—their mouths were like a nest of centipedes and scorpions, very venomous, capable of making one furious with a single sentence. But in Chen Ping'an's eyes, they were actually very different. Both were carefree and from poor backgrounds. Gu Can seemed sly, his eyes spinning faster than anyone else's. But the shrewdness beyond his years in Gu Can was more a form of self-preservation. Li Huai, on the other hand, was purely a little hedgehog, pricking everyone he met. This was because Li Huai still had both parents, an older sister, and a relatively simple nature. Moreover, he had attended school and studied, surrounded by older classmates like Li Baoping, Lin Shouyi, and Shi Chunjia. On the whole, Li Huai had never suffered major hardships.
Gu Can was different. The mother who raised him single-handedly sometimes, it had to be said, was a burden. It made him, at a very young age, taste the coldness and warmth of human relationships. Chen Ping'an had once seen with his own eyes a drunken man staggering out of Clay Bottle Alley, cursing as he went. Seeing Gu Can returning home from play, the man said nothing, walked over, and kicked Gu Can hard in the stomach. After Gu Can fell, the man stepped on his head. The child, so small, curled up at the base of the wall, clutching his stomach, unable even to cry.
If Chen Ping'an hadn't happened to go out and see it, if he hadn't rushed over, punched the man to make him stagger back, and then carried Gu Can to the Yang Family Apothecary, who knows if any lasting damage would have been done.
Gu Can also held grudges more deeply. He had a little ledger in his heart, keeping track of every account very clearly: which woman had cursed his mother today, which shameless man had flirted with his mother with dirty talk. He remembered it all. Perhaps as he grew older, some matters and details were forgotten, but Gu Can would certainly never forget his hatred for certain individuals. As for that man who had kicked him twice, Gu Can remembered him with deadly accuracy: what his name was, which alley he lived in, who was in his family. Gu Can knew it all. When he was alone with Chen Ping'an in private, he always clamored about digging up that man's ancestral grave, and said that the man had a daughter—once she grew up, he would sleep with her and bully her to death.
Back then, the child probably had no idea what "sleeping with" meant. He only knew that many women and men liked to "joke" about his mother. The women would say "stealing a man," while the men's words often carried the word "sleep."
Chen Ping'an still remembered it vividly. The child was just over four years old, his tender little face twisted with ferocity, his eyes fierce and cruel.
Chen Ping'an was worried. Of course, he hoped that Gu Can would live better than anyone else outside. But at the same time, deep down, he didn't want Gu Can to become a transcendent figure like Cai Jinjian or Fu Nanhua.
Seeing her Little Master Uncle lost in thought, Li Baoping asked, "What's wrong?"
In the past, Chen Ping'an would have said "nothing." But now he spoke his mind directly. "I'm afraid that the next time I see Snot-Nose, I won't recognize him anymore."
Li Baoping was puzzled. "Kids grow fast. If you meet again after four, five, seven years, it's normal not to recognize each other."
Chen Ping'an grinned, more like he was giving himself encouragement. "I believe Gu Can will always be the snot-nosed kid from Clay Bottle Alley."
As for whether Gu Can would recognize him, it didn't matter. As long as that kid lived well, that was everything.
---
The riverbed of Iron Charm River had a fault cliff, dropping sharply. The downstream current suddenly swelled.
Chen Ping'an stood by the river on the stone cliff, practicing his fist techniques, going back and forth through the six-step walking stance.
A Liang had somehow appeared at the edge of the stone cliff.
Water splashed, the water roared, and mist filled the air. Fortunately, it was late spring, and the chill had already subsided, so it wasn't piercingly cold.
A Liang shouted, "Practicing this fist isn't very meaningful. This walking stance is a very basic framework, found in any martial sect. That standing stance is barely passable—at least it can help you stay alive, like a medicinal ingredient used to sustain life. Not precious, but at least it's the right remedy."
The boy heard this, smiled, and said nothing.
Because Old Man Yao had said that when practicing fist techniques, one must never let out their energy.
A Liang nodded. "But an uninteresting thing can be done in a very interesting way by an interesting person. Practicing fist techniques like this, there's no major problem. The path of martial arts is genuine 'dripping water wears through stone,' relying on steady, persistent effort."
Chen Ping'an finished his practice and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He asked, "A Liang, you're not that Immortal Terrace Wei Jin, are you?"
A Liang laughed. "Of course not. He's all about reciting poetry, one set after another. His drinking manners are atrocious. Once he's tipsy, he starts blubbering worse than Li Huai. How could I be that kind of person?"
Chen Ping'an was startled. He hadn't expected A Liang to be so straightforward. "Then the donkey and the wine gourd?"
A Liang rolled his eyes. "They naturally belong to Wei Jin. I'm not as finicky as him. I do like drinking, but riding a donkey to view the landscape and all that—I really can't do it. Too slow, it would drive me crazy."
Chen Ping'an asked cautiously, "He's not dead, is he?"
A Liang smirked. "Why would I kill him? To seize his treasure?"
Chen Ping'an looked at A Liang and shook his head. "I believe you wouldn't kill him."
A Liang took a drink from the wine gourd that should have been used to nurture a sword. "This little sword-nurturing gourd was a gift from him. I taught him a high-level swordsmanship. That kid had a sudden breakthrough and finally broke through his bottleneck, so he went into seclusion. As payment, he gave me the gourd. Don't think I took advantage. He got the better deal. I'm just helping to look after this donkey."
The Wind Snow Temple military swordsman's tenth floor is very hard to break open.
But A Liang didn't want to explain too clearly to Chen Ping'an.
The road must be walked step by step.
Chen Ping'an was a bit puzzled. "Why didn't Master Ruan recognize you?"
A Liang found a place to sit and shook the little silver-white gourd. "The natal sword qi inside the gourd is still there and intact, which means the owner still lives, with complete soul and body. Your East Treasured Vase Continent is a small place. Ruan Qiong didn't think there would be such a terrifyingly powerful expert here who could instantly kill Wei Jin without even giving Wei Jin's natal flying sword time to make contact."
Chen Ping'an was surprised. "Small place? Some people say our East Treasured Vase Continent has a thousand dynasties, and we haven't even reached the Great Li border yet."
A Liang turned his head and tossed the wine gourd to the boy standing beside him. "You said 'walked' yourself, right? Come on, have a drink. A man who can't drink is wasting his time on this earth."
"I don't drink. Zhu He said martial artists can't drink." Chen Ping'an carefully caught the wine gourd. He sat beside A Liang and handed it back. But A Liang didn't take it, so Chen Ping'an had to hold it carefully in his arms, looking at the river. He said softly, "That's true. I've seen immortals flying on swords above our town, many times."
A Liang was getting annoyed every time he heard "Zhu He" now. And this guy beside him always liked to compare him with Zhu He.
Chen Ping'an asked with a smile, "A Liang, can you really teach Wei Jin swordsmanship? Then you're even more powerful than Zhu He, right?"
Here we go again.
A Liang sighed. "I'm just good-tempered, so I won't argue with you."
Chen Ping'an was genuinely curious. He pressed on, "A lot more powerful?"
A Liang snatched the wine gourd back, took a big gulp, and said with distaste, "Get lost, get lost."
Chen Ping'an laughed heartily. He turned to look at the frustrated hat-wearing man, blinked, and snickered, "Actually, I know you're much stronger than Zhu He."
A Liang felt a bit better.
Chen Ping'an immediately added, with a sincere tone, "I think even two Zhu Hes might not be able to beat you."
A Liang said helplessly, "If you're going to flatter me, at least have some sincerity. At the very least, take out those 'might not' words."
Chen Ping'an was silent. The corners of his mouth lifted as he watched the majestic blue waterfall. Suddenly he said, "A Liang, thank you."
A Liang drank in mouthfuls and asked casually, "Huh? Thank me for what? I haven't taught you fist techniques or swordsmanship."
Chen Ping'an sat cross-legged, habitually interlacing his fingers at his chest, practicing the Sword Furnace fist stance. "After meeting you, I feel the outside world isn't as scary as I thought. Because I've found that there are good people out there too, not everyone with high skill bullies others at will. All the way, Li Huai and Zhu Lu have said such things about you, and you never get angry."
A Liang smiled and took a slower drink. "This compliment came out of nowhere. Let me have a drink to steady myself. But you, kid, do you even know fear? You dared to kill a young immortal in an alley, dared to confront the Mountain-Moving Ape head-on, dared to take Baoping on a long journey to Great Sui without a second thought? You've got some nerve."
Chen Ping'an said softly, "Some things are done because they have to be done. That doesn't mean I'm not afraid. I'm just a kiln apprentice who made porcelain. How brave could I be?"
A Liang nodded. "That makes sense."
The two fell silent, only the sound of water.
A Liang broke the silence first. "If, in a very famous place, you did something very impressive, and you could carve one big character that would last for thousands of generations, which character would you choose?"
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment. "It should be my surname. Both my parents are surnamed Chen. Carving the character 'Chen' would be nice."
A Liang shook his head and sighed. "Really vulgar. Not like me."
A Liang quickly explained himself, "It's normal, it's normal. A remarkable man like me is as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns. Cattle and sheep flock on the plains; the lone tiger walks deep in the mountains. Lonely."
The hat-wearing man probably moved himself with his own words, so he quickly took a big swig of wine.
The straw-sandal-wearing boy suddenly grinned, his smile so wide he couldn't close his mouth, as if he was thinking of something very happy.
This was definitely a rare occurrence.
So A Liang asked, "What are you thinking about, you goof?"
The boy blushed a little, embarrassed. "If I could carve multiple characters, then on that wall, I would write the name of the girl I love."
A Liang grimaced and clicked his tongue. "Then you'd better burn more incense and pray that your future wife's name is only two characters. If it's three characters, four characters, hah."
Chen Ping'an was taken aback. "Are there people with names of four characters? Isn't that very strange?"
A Liang patted the boy on the shoulder. "Chen Ping'an, read more books in the future."
Chen Ping'an felt a bit ashamed.
A Liang suddenly snapped to attention. "Chen Ping'an, is there a girl you like?! Who who who, tell me quickly, so I can have a good laugh!"
Chen Ping'an squinted with a smile and shook his head. "No."
A Liang pointed at the boy. "I knew from the start you weren't being honest."
Chen Ping'an asked quietly, "A Liang, are you still a bachelor now?"
A Liang: "Shut up!"
Chen Ping'an returned the favor. "I knew from the start."
A Liang stuck out his thumb and pointed at himself. "Do you know how many female warriors and immortals in other places have cried and begged to marry me, A Liang?"
Chen Ping'an replied seriously, "Of course I don't know."
A Liang, defeated, silently drank.
Chen Ping'an asked, "By the way, A Liang, what character did you carve? Can you tell me?"
A Liang instantly lit up, proud and smug. "Ah, that's something. Not only did I write that character with strokes like iron hooks and silver daggers, unmatched in the world, but the character itself is full of flavor! It rolls off the tongue, majestic as a rainbow. So much better than things like surnames, 'Haoran,' or 'Leichi.' You don't know—to stop me from carving that character, several old turtles' faces turned black with anger. But there's no helping it when you compare—some of those old fellows with high seniority were so mad they huffed and puffed, nearly rolling up their sleeves to fight me. I couldn't be bothered. You guys ganging up on me shamelessly? Should I not run? Am I stupid, right? Of course, I ran after I finished carving."
Chen Ping'an regretted asking.
A Liang wore a look that screamed, "Quick, ask me which character it is!"
Chen Ping'an gently turned his head back toward the river and resolutely refused to speak.
A Liang stood dumbfounded.
The hat-wearing man carefully stoppered the fragrant wine gourd, clearly having lost all interest in drinking.
Just then, Chen Ping'an's eyes suddenly went wide as he spotted five or six people walking hand in hand on the river surface downstream of Iron Charm River. There was a white-haired old man in a straw rain cape singing loudly, "Famous mountains await the sage since ancient times." There was a seductive woman in colorful clothes, tittering. And there was a little boy in Daoist robes holding a bamboo staff, putting on an air of maturity.
Chen Ping'an's eyes widened. He murmured, "Immortals?"
A Liang didn't even spare them a glance.
Zhu He, holding a string of red bells that jingled urgently, ran toward Chen Ping'an and A Liang. His face was heavy. "This is a demon-alert bell left to me by my ancestor. Once any demon or mountain spirit comes within a hundred feet of the bell, it will ring without wind. Senior A Liang, Chen Ping'an, we should be careful. Let's leave this stone cliff by the river to avoid unnecessary conflict."
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment and was about to stand up.
A Liang paid no attention to the strange scene on the river. He pulled out the gourd stopper, shook it at the two of them, and said with a smile, "I'll leave after this sip. It'll be quick."
Zhu He was anxious. "Senior A Liang, our Great Li court has always been very lenient with mountain wild spirits. As long as there are no deaths, they generally never interfere..."
A Liang went "Ah," said "Is that so," and quickly stood up to leave the stone cliff with them, making way for the unexpected arrivals.
But on the river surface, the five extraordinary beings displayed their distinct levels of cultivation. The highest in Dao, the straw-caped old man, was the first to stop as if struck by lightning on the forehead, frozen in place. The remaining four followed suit. Then, the ethereal old man once again led the way, turning and sprinting away. This time, he couldn't care less about immortal grace; he wished he could use both hands and feet. The other four did the same.
A Liang wore an expression of overly feigned suspicion, mixed with a mischievous smile.
Zhu He swallowed hard.
The bell in his hand had already fallen silent.
He tested the waters. "Senior A Liang, is this..."
A Liang fastened the little silver gourd and rubbed his chin. "Could it be my killing intent is too strong?"
Chen Ping'an asked in a low voice, "A Liang, did those fellows recognize your sword-nurturing gourd?"
A Liang roared with laughter, throwing an arm around the boy's shoulder as they walked down the stone cliff. "Could be, could be. There's a big secret inside the sword-nurturing gourd. I don't tell just anyone."
A Liang suddenly let go, letting Chen Ping'an go back first.
The straw-sandal boy trotted away.
A Liang, still arm in arm with Zhu He, asked in a low voice, "Zhu He, you're at the fifth martial realm, right? How did you subtly make Chen Ping'an think you're an expert? Why don't you teach me? Otherwise, I've put in all this effort, putting on all those expert airs for nothing, and that kid still can't see it."
Zhu He's body stiffened. He said uneasily, "Senior A Liang, I really don't know."
A Liang was angry. "That's no fun."
Zhu He said tearfully, "Senior A Liang, I really don't know."
Up ahead, the boy turned around and jogged backward, facing A Liang, and called out with a laugh, "A Liang, what exactly is that character?"
A Liang instantly lit up with spirit. He coughed, adjusted his hat with one hand, and raised his thumb high with the other. "Ferocious!"
The boy was struck like those five on the river. He silently turned around and sprinted away, muttering, "Son of a bitch!"