Chapter 1032: A Digression
The young Daoist wearing a lotus flower crown hurriedly bowed to express gratitude, looking pitiful as he said, “I only beg that the Old Scholar keep his promise and be careful not to accidentally let it slip and spread it around.”
In the schoolhouse tonight, there were only these few people. Although Chen Ping’an was the Old Scholar’s closed-door disciple, his mouth was still very tight, and he never liked to gossip about others behind their backs. As for Zhao Shu Xia and Ning Ji, one had a steady personality, and the other had a good relationship with him, so it was unlikely either would use such matters as conversation topics. But what couldn’t the Old Scholar do? If he returned to the Middle Earth Confucian Temple and started beating gongs and drums, setting off firecrackers and hanging banners, or if he casually chatted a few words with friends like Yu Xuan and Sui Shan Zhou, wouldn’t that be just talk over drinks, an accidental slip? By the time it reached the Azure Mystery Heaven and was heavily embellished by the Mysterious Metropolis Temple, Lu Chen would probably gain the nickname “Lose Half.”
But the shabby old scholar in Confucian robes bowed back and said, “Not at all, not at all. Leader Lu is simply not fond of empty fame. As for me, I’ve always been clumsy with words. If I were to truly engage in an argument, even if Leader Lu gave me one hand and one leg, I could never defeat Leader Lu.”
So he had already started taking advantage of the situation while acting smug?
The Old Scholar exchanged a glance with Lu Chen, then turned to Chen Ping’an and the others, saying he needed to discuss a few private words with Leader Lu. He then hooked his arm around Lu Chen’s shoulder and dragged him out the door. The Old Scholar was short, while Lu Chen was tall and slender. Poor Leader Lu had to tilt his head and lean sideways as he was pulled out by the Old Scholar.
The good-tempered Daoist and the unruly old scholar—both seemed to be ranked fourth within their respective traditions.
Ning Ji was a bit bewildered. The name Lu Chen, along with his identity as the Chief of the Jade Capital Temple, had already been explained to the youth back in Yuxuan Kingdom’s capital by the Daoist Wu Di. Since Wu Di had used a metaphor that Ning Ji could understand, Ning Ji now roughly grasped Lu Chen’s weight in the “mountain” world. In simple terms, Lu Chen was one of the few great figures in the world. But for some reason, this Daoist elder, whose home was here, had his meditation site in Nanhua City at the Jade Capital Temple, honored as one of the Daoist sect’s leaders.
So could it be that the ancestral master they had never met seemed to consistently have the upper hand over Daoist Lu?
After Chen Ping’an had drunk the apprenticeship tea, according to seniority, this old gentleman—called “Master” by the teacher and “Old Scholar” by Leader Lu—was Ning Ji’s ancestral master.
Ning Ji lowered his voice and asked curiously, “Arguing?”
Chen Ping’an smiled and explained, “The master intentionally put it in simple and light terms. Actually, it was a formal debate. The master and Lu Chen both participated in the century-spanning three-teaching debates of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism, but not in the same session. One gave the closing speech, the other the opening, and both won convincingly. But later, as their realms and statuses rose, they stopped participating in debates by rule, so they never met in that arena.”
Ning Ji continued, “Master, what was the result of the debate between the ancestral master and Daoist Lu?”
Chen Ping’an thought for a moment and said some impartial and fair words, “It’s hard to say for sure. The outcome isn’t easy to determine. Lu Chen’s words are vast and unrestrained, best at allegories—no one surpasses him in that. His momentum is overwhelming, truly unmatched. It’s like a downpour from the heavens, where ordinary people in the wilderness can neither hide nor avoid it. Those who oppose him face a flood bursting through a levee, while those who are convinced are like suffering a long drought and suddenly meeting sweet rain, allowing fish stranded on dry land to return to the river. When the master discusses principles, his reasoning is clear, his structure stable, and his literary talent is excellent too—but not the kind of flashy beauty. It’s like paving a road ahead, where the younger generation can follow step by step.”
Ning Ji breathed a sigh of relief. He hoped the ancestral master was highly learned and a formidable debater, but he also didn’t want Daoist Lu to lose. A draw would be best—or better yet, no argument at all.
Chen Ping’an smiled. “Since ancient times, literary works have resented a smooth life. The master spent many years teaching in a humble alley, impoverished and destitute. Every time he bought books, paper, and brushes, he had to budget carefully. When Daoist Lu served as the Scribe of Lacquer Garden, he was also so poor that he couldn’t open his pot, and once borrowed grain from the local River Marquis.”
Although he said it lightly, Chen Ping’an’s earlier statement about being extremely nervous was no exaggeration at all. If the master and Lu Chen formally debated, the consequences for both worlds would be incalculable. A small chance event—the Confucian Sage and Leader Lu Lu Chen meeting by chance in a rural schoolhouse—could bring countless far-reaching “inevitabilities” to the next millennium.
Of course, Chen Ping’an didn’t want the master to have this argument with Lu Chen for his sake.
At this critical moment when the three teachings’ mountains and rivers were about to split into countless tributaries and branches, Lu Chen certainly didn’t want to debate the Confucian Sage either, because neither side could be the winner—only mutual loss.
If the Old Scholar really went all out, he could at least delay or even obstruct Lu Chen’s path to merging with the fifteenth realm. Of course, the Confucian Sage himself would also pay a terribly painful price.
Looking across the several worlds, there really weren’t many who could do this—at most one or two—and the Old Scholar was definitely among them.
So the reason the Old Scholar had rushed back to the Righteous World from beyond the heavens this time was also a very tough stance against Leader Lu Chen—or more precisely, against the entire Jade Capital Temple, or perhaps the Dao Ancestor himself. He was essentially saying, “At worst, I’ll have my statue removed from the Confucian Temple again and lose my status as an accompanying sacrifice—just to protect my closed-door disciple on his mountain path before he reaches the summit.”
But since the other party was Lu Chen, who preferred to have one less matter rather than one more, the Old Scholar still handled things with great tact and timing. If you give me face, I’ll give you face—that’s how you navigate the rivers and lakes.
Just say that the Old Scholar helped Yu Xuan successfully merge with the starry river and then retrieved that river map. Whether Daoist or Daoist sect, the entire Daoist tradition owed him that favor. Ordinary ordained Daoists could disregard it—they didn’t care—but Lu Chen and his master, the Dao Ancestor, had their statuses to consider, so naturally they couldn’t be so uncouth.
A small wine table. The Old Scholar and Lu Chen sat facing each other. The Old Scholar took out two wine cups and placed them on the table, chuckling as he asked Leader Lu to produce two jars of fine wine from the Azure Mystery Heaven. Lu Chen then pulled from his sleeve two jars of immortal brew, one from the Jade Capital Temple’s Biyun Tower and the other from Difei Mountain’s Huayang Palace. They each filled their cups. The Old Scholar praised the other for having a heart of attainment, like jade hidden in a mountain. Lu Chen returned the courtesy, but instead of saying nice things about the Old Scholar, he remarked that in the room next door where Chen Ping’an was, the fragrance of books filled the space, and the flavor of texts was better than clear water raising fish.
In the past, the Secondary Sage had traveled to the Azure Mystery Heaven. Aside from negotiating the matter of Chief Leader Kou Ming “scattering the Dao” in the Righteous World, the Secondary Sage had also intended to spread teachings and establish academies in foreign lands. But at that time, the Palm Leader stationed in the Jade Capital Temple for a century was Yu Dou, who disliked handling mundane affairs, stayed long in the heavens beyond, and constantly confronted celestial demons. He simply couldn’t be bothered to meet the Secondary Sage. So several venerable Daoist officials of the Jade Capital Temple handled the secret discussions with the Secondary Sage, and the matter fell through. But in truth, if the Jade Capital Temple’s Daoists had been able to foresee back then that the three teaching ancestors would scatter the Dao, they would never have refused it. The one that benefited most now was naturally the Righteous World, where a hundred schools contended, and especially Buddhist temples and Daoist temples bloomed like flowers across the world.
The reason those several Daoist officials of the Jade Capital Temple didn’t agree with the Secondary Sage back then, besides fearing that Confucian forces would spread and become uncontrollable, was also that many great cultivators would overthink things and drift further from the truth. Perhaps if someone like River Deity Gao Niang—who had experience in officialdom and cultivation through the public gate—had been there, he might have seen through the truth at a glance. That truth was simply that because Chief Yu Dou hadn’t shown his face, the Jade Capital Temple would take that as Yu Chief’s attitude. Since Yu Dou didn’t nod, then there was no room for negotiation?
As one of the remaining two Palm Leaders of the Jade Capital Temple, Lu Chen could certainly have facilitated this matter. At worst, he could go to the heavens beyond and say a few words to his elder brother Yu Dou, then send word back to the Jade Capital Temple’s Five Cities and Twelve Towers—just an extra trip. But for some reason, Lu Chen pretended not to know about it, simply traveled around, went to the Mysterious Metropolis Temple to get scolded, or sought out great cultivators like Gao Gu and Wu Shuangjiang for free food and drink.
“No one is as carefree as Leader Lu, coming and going without a trace, doing things without passing them on.”
It seemed that after becoming the Jade Capital Temple’s Palm Leader, Lu Chen in the Azure Mystery Heaven had indeed not performed any spectacular feats in the ordinary sense, far from comparable to his two predecessors.
If any stories did circulate, they were all absurd and laughable tales.
“How could the Wen Sage ever waste a moment of time? He reads human affairs like he views mountains and rivers. Where his footprints fall, his deeds follow. One scholar can influence countless others—if that’s not a feat, what is?”
The Old Scholar scratched his head, then held his cup with one hand and stroked his beard with the other, sighing, “I do not know that old age is approaching; in an instant, my hair turns white. I am so weary.”
Lu Chen smiled. “Looking back on this life of seeking the Way, when I think carefully, it is all fortunate.”
“That kind of talk can only be said by Leader Lu; others cannot.”
“Wake up without anger, don’t scold your wife at evening. Read more of the sages’ books, meet matters with a chuckle. Cultivating the body and nature, the way of handling the world—that’s all there is to it.”
The Old Scholar was momentarily speechless.
Probably because Chen Ping’an saw that the wine table was indeed just idle chatter, he walked to the door and asked the master if he wanted some late-night snacks. The Old Scholar patted his belly, nodded repeatedly, and joked that this was a good idea—if he didn’t eat something soon, his five inner temples would revolt. Seeing that Chen Ping’an stood still and didn’t move, the Old Scholar told him to sit down and chat. If he could drink, have a little; if not, have tea. Chen Ping’an nodded and sat at the table. Zhao Shu Xia and Ning Ji went to the kitchen to busy themselves with snacks. They planned to stir-fry several dishes to go with the wine, since it looked like they were about to start a second round of drinking.
Lu Chen smiled. “You don’t need to be so nervous. The Wen Sage and I won’t argue.”
Generally speaking, if the master, the Old Scholar, said he wanted to discuss matters with Lu Chen, then as a disciple, Chen Ping’an, for public or private reasons, emotion or reason, shouldn’t interfere. It didn’t conform to the rules.
This was probably the unique privilege of a closed-door disciple.
Lu Chen himself had been a closed-door disciple for thousands of years, so he felt the same way—he had to.
Chen Ping’an said irritably, “Whether we argue or not, the initiative lies with my master. What you say, Daoist Lu, doesn’t mean a damn thing.”
The Old Scholar stroked his beard and smiled. Listen to that—wasn’t it sincere and heartwarming?
When Lu Chen heard Chen Ping’an address him as “Daoist Lu” rather than “Leader Lu,” and the content of his words showed no distance, he didn’t bother to pursue it.
The Old Scholar remembered something, felt his sleeve, but didn’t find anything. He just looked up at Leader Lu.
Lu Chen smiled, raised a finger, and brushed it across his mouth, indicating that the poor Daoist knew the rules and would keep his mouth shut.
Only then did the Old Scholar produce a copy of the river map. It was hastily made; the true meaning of mathematical calculations contained within it might not even retain one in ten.
The Old Scholar warned Chen Ping’an not to open it in a hurry, but to wait until the day he returned to the upper fifth realm to look at it. If he unrolled the scroll and read its contents now, his Dao heart would only sink deep into it.
This was only because his own closed-door disciple had achieved success in heart cultivation, and the Old Scholar trusted him. Otherwise, for an ordinary qi refiner, even if you were an immortal, you couldn’t handle even this copy of the river map. Giving it as a gift would be harming the person.
Chen Ping’an nodded and silently put it into his sleeve. On the wine table, without restraint, he made an exception and cast a spell: within his sleeve, mountains and rivers shrank the earth’s veins, leading like a single thread from the ancestral mountain, and placed it on the desk on the first floor of the bamboo building.
The Old Scholar laughed. “It’s good to be fond of studying mathematical calculations. Later, when you travel to the Middle Earth Divine Continent, you can ask for advice from those founding masters of the calculation school. They owe your eldest senior brother a considerable favor. Ask any questions you have without hesitation. If you happen to stump them, that will be a new bond of incense and affection. Little Baoping, Youqian, Ning Ji, and these children—in the future, they can also confidently go to those old gentlemen to seek knowledge.”
The Old Scholar then took out a scroll of time and light that he had temporarily intercepted. He didn’t intend to keep it for long; it was the kind of panoramic image that would be used up after one viewing, like watching flowers from a galloping horse.
Lu Chen knew the Old Scholar’s good intentions. Great cultivators in the mountains were often better heard of than seen. Since Chen Ping’an would definitely have to travel to the Azure Mystery Heaven in the future, it was better to let him see the faces and hear the words of certain Azure Mystery cultivators early on.
On the scroll, out in the heavens, the starry river was boundless, his thoughts vast and deep.
The Old Scholar squatted on top of a gourd, sighing deeply. With each sip of wine, he let out a sigh. Beside him, the host, Old True Man Yu, was a bit embarrassed.
The more the Old Scholar said nothing, the more guilty Yu Xuan felt.
When the Old Scholar raised his wine flask and, in turn, comforted Yu Xuan with a poem—“Tonight the Heavenly River has a new energy; no worry that there is no place for a leisurely body. If I think of it, I should go with you, become a Daoist in the Milky Way”—Yu Xuan found it hard to bear. That was because among those who came to congratulate Yu in the heavens tonight, Liu Qi came empty-handed, bringing no gift. Subsequently, Gu Qingsong arrived by boat to the Heavenly River and actually cursed Yu Xuan a few times. Apart from that, Master Xu came with empty sleeves, and Cheng Longzhou from the Great Blessing Academy were all scholars, so friendships between gentlemen were as pure as water. Wei She from the Aiai Continent, the master of the seventy-two peaks, a recognized big rich man of the world with an immense family fortune—probably because he was so wealthy that he didn’t care about money, so the Old Scholar, who was eagerly waiting to help collect gifts, didn’t even see a shadow of a single immortal coin, let alone a single mountain treasure.
After Wei She’s visit, there came another great cultivator from the Liuxia Continent, with the Dao name Qinggong Taibao, Jing Hao. He hurried over excitedly. As a preeminent mountain peak immortal in Liuxia Continent, having sensed the anomaly in the Heavenly River, he didn’t hesitate to use the unique method of a Flying Ascension realm great cultivator to report to the Confucian Temple, have it recorded, and then be told by the Temple that he could travel to the outer heavens—but with a limited time, not to stay beyond one hour.
But when Jing Hao saw the Old Scholar beside Yu Xuan, he almost—really almost—turned around and left.
Last time at the Confucian Temple meeting, he had only observed the commotion at Yuanyang Island from a distance. At most, a few guests in his residence, fellow Daoists on the mountain, said a few less-than-pleasant words.
Then that one named Zuo You came to his door to demand an explanation, though he only thrust out one sword, it wounded Jing Hao—renowned for having “eighty methods all climbing to the peak”—quite severely.
Such a bad temper in a scholar! Even if you, Zuo You, possessed transcendent and miraculous swordsmanship, you still couldn’t become an accompanying sacrifice sage at the Confucian Temple.
Yu Xuan pretended not to see the embarrassed fellow Daoist Jing Hao, but asked in a telepathic voice, laughing, “Old Scholar, what’s going on? I remember Jing Hao only took one sword from Zuo You, and your disciple isn’t the kind to hold grudges. Usually after a sword duel ends, the matter is closed. Why would Jing Hao be so frightened just seeing you?”
This was Yu Xuan being tactful. Given Jing Hao’s character, if there was any opportunity, he would certainly try to cozy up to the Wen Sage and also think about turning over certain matters.
Poor Jing Hao! The number one figure on the mountains of Liuxia Continent, hesitated in the distance, for a moment truly at a loss.
Indeed, if he had only been beaten once, Jing Hao would have just swallowed the bitterness and endured Zuo You.
The key point was that not long after Zuo You left, another big shot came whom Jing Hao had to kowtow to voluntarily. This person was also a sword cultivator, but had deep ties with the ancestral mountain of the sect, Green Palace Mountain.
If the old Shu region was this person’s place of attainment, then Green Palace Mountain was this sword cultivator’s place of cultivation.
Thus, Jing Hao’s lineage had actually occupied another’s nest, a “borrowed residence.” The true owner, since the end of the dragon-slaying campaign, had disappeared for three thousand years. Over time, within the entire sect, except for Jing Hao himself as the founding master, no one knew of this startling inside story.
The Old Scholar said with a smile, “Brother Yu, you don’t know. At the Confucian Temple that time, Zuo You had just left when Immortal Lord Chen followed right behind. It was like pouring another bucket of cold water on Jing Hao’s head. He was scared out of his wits.”
Yu Xian became even more curious. “How so? Tell me about it.”
The Old Scholar said, “The founding master of Jing Hao’s lineage has a deep Dao connection with Immortal Lord Chen. Their relationship is somewhat similar to... Gu Qingsong and Lu Chen. So if the latter came out of retirement, Jing Hao would have to give up that ancestral mountain—return it to its original owner. Even if Jing Hao went to the Confucian Temple and caused a scene, it wouldn’t help.”
Yu Xuan suddenly understood. So Green Palace Mountain had once been the cultivation site of the Dragon Slayer, Chen Qingliu?
So when the dragon slayer reappeared during the Confucian Temple meeting, the most panicked qi refiner in the world might well be Jing Hao, who felt that his virtues didn’t match his position and his skills were inferior.
Sure enough, after being approached by Chen Qingliu, Jing Hao instantly made up his mind: if you can’t offend him, avoid him. He would simply relocate the entire sect out of the Green Palace Mountain area. A short pain was better than a long one. Although the sect would inevitably suffer a great loss, it was better than living in constant fear every day.
Unexpectedly, Immortal Lord Chen, who had initially intended to “close the mountain,” seemed to change his mind at the last moment, implying that he would give Green Palace Mountain to Jing Hao.
But there was hidden meaning in his words. He made two small requests of Jing Hao. First, regarding a disciple Jing Hao had under confinement, Chen Qingliu found him agreeable, and he wanted Jing Hao to restore his position as sect leader.
At the time, Chen Qingliu said, “If you don’t want to, forget it.”
Jing Hao naturally didn’t dare refuse. His spine might have rebelled a hundred times, but the head on his shoulders had to nod.
Chen Qingliu’s second request was that there might be a mountain friend of his in the future who would travel to Liuxia Continent. If that friend happened to pass by Green Palace Mountain as a guest, he wanted Jing Hao to be attentive.
The mountain senior whom Immortal Lord Chen called his “good brother” had the Dao name “Little Dragon King of the Fallen Mountain.”
He also said that when Jing Hao met this fellow Daoist in the future, he would recognize him at a glance.
So after the fact, Jing Hao used various channels and means to have a few of his trusted inner disciples personally make a trip to Vase Bottle Continent to investigate the Fallen Mountain. But the intelligence that came back to Green Palace Mountain infuriated Jing Hao. He directly issued a decree with harsh wording nearly bordering on admonition, scolding them severely and, at the end of the secret letter, writing two words: “Investigate again!”
It turned out that on the Fallen Mountain side in Vase Bottle Continent, there was indeed a qi refiner who looked like a lad in green clothes. But according to the first intelligence report, it was a water python that had successfully transformed into a river god at the Nascent Soul realm in the North Ju Continent. Just a terrestrial immortal water python? No wonder Jing Hao flew into a rage. “You are a bunch of fools! Do you think your master is an idiot too?”
The second intelligence report was more detailed. It even dug up the true form of the one called Chen Lingjun—a little water snake. Earlier, within the territory of the Huangting Kingdom, a vassal of the Great Sui Gao clan, there was a Yu River. Chen Lingjun had a close relationship with the Water Deity and was a very lively... lad in green clothes. He later met the young Hidden Official, who had not yet risen to prominence, and was one of the earliest “founding members” to follow Chen Ping’an to the Fallen Mountain for cultivation.
This made the wily Jing Hao even more suspicious.
A dragon slayer and a Nascent Soul water python calling each other brothers—who would believe that?
But even if Jing Hao refused to believe it no matter what, what could he do? Could he really wait until he was beaten to death before believing?
In any case, regardless of the truth, he couldn’t bypass the Fallen Mountain and Chen Ping’an.
Since he couldn’t bypass Chen Ping’an, meeting the Wen Sage tonight made Jing Hao even more uneasy.
The Ritual Sage almost never gets involved in the specific affairs of the Confucian Temple. The Secondary Sage is in the Wilderness World. So the one truly managing affairs at the Confucian Temple now is this Old Scholar, who seems to be acting as temporary head.
The Old Scholar laughed. “Brother Yu, earlier when you were scolded a few times by Fellow Daoist Xiancha, you really weren’t wronged.”
Yu Xuan said helplessly, “You don’t hit a smiling face. As a registered cultivator, I often attend ceremonies and can’t refuse. I participate in all kinds of drinking parties, and with the social obligations at the table, it’s inevitable to say a few perfunctory words.”
Among the nine continents of the Righteous World, Liuxia Continent is a top-notch scenic land of mountains and rivers. Many successful cultivators on the mountains like to travel there. Countless cultivators from other continents have built detached palaces there. In particular, the couple from the Tianyu Cave Heaven are known for their hospitality. The Green God Mountain Wine Banquet in the Bamboo Sea Cave Heaven and the Sanfu Banquet in the Tianyu Cave Heaven are both very famous. Yu Xuan often travels abroad, and Jing Hao is fond of joining in the fun. They aren’t exactly friends, but they have become familiar faces. Jing Hao claims to be Yu Xuan’s friend, and Yu Xuan can’t exactly send out a special mountain-and-water gazette saying he isn’t.
Jing Hao still steeled his scalp and came over to offer Yu Xuan a few words of congratulations and apologize to the Wen Sage.
The Old Scholar didn’t put on a stern face; he just chuckled and didn’t respond.
True to his reputation as someone who had attended thousands of drinking parties large and small, Jing Hao, facing the situation, simply threw caution to the wind. He chatted cheerfully with Yu Xuan, occasionally inserting a few words about the young and promising Hidden Official Chen. In any case, he managed to chat for nearly half an hour before taking his leave.
The Old Scholar sat on the gourd, drinking on his own, feeling so awkward for both Yu Xuan and Jing Hao that he wanted to scratch his feet.
During that time, Jing Hao gathered his courage and made a roundabout remark to the Wen Sage, saying that his Green Palace Mountain welcomed Hidden Official Chen and Fellow Daoist Lingjun to visit their humble abode, but he begged them to notify him in advance so that Jing Hao could personally receive the distinguished guests at the border of Liuxia Continent.
The Old Scholar was deeply impressed. To have both realm and nerve, he had to admit that some positions really could only be sat on by people like Jing Hao.
So the Old Scholar made a double-edged remark: “After all, you’re one of the few successful cultivators at the mountaintop. You can’t spend all day ignoring the world outside. After handling your household affairs, you should also pay a bit of attention to matters outside the mountain.”
Whereupon Jing Hao’s expression turned solemn. He rose and made a deep bow, remaining bent over for a long time, and uttered a firm statement: “I shall respectfully heed the Wen Sage’s instruction!”
The “matters outside the mountain” the Wen Sage referred to were, of course, the affairs of the world.
He understood. Over in the Wilderness World, the figures from his Green Palace Mountain lineage would be indispensable. On the Confucian Temple’s book of merits, there would be names of Green Palace Mountain cultivators.
Once Jing Hao left, peace was restored.
Yu Xuan asked doubtfully, “Old Scholar, who is that Fellow Daoist Lingjun?”
Both were old foxes who had mastered the arts of worldly wisdom. Yu Xuan immediately caught the subtext in Jing Hao’s words, apparently regarding this person on the same level as Chen Ping’an.
The Old Scholar laughed. “Remarkable, truly remarkable. Earlier, when the Dao Ancestor traveled to the old site of the Pear Cave Heaven, it was this Fellow Daoist Lingjun who represented the Fallen Mountain in receiving the guest. The first time he saw the Master of the Azure Sky Cave, he generously invited the old temple master to his mountain as a guest, guaranteeing he would be well fed. When he met the Dao Ancestor, he was neither humble nor arrogant, showing his backbone, and advised the Dao Ancestor to change his name.”
Yu Xuan was astounded. “What?!”
Even though he had now entered the fourteenth realm and could see farther from a height, Yu Xuan still wouldn’t dare say he could wrestle with the Master of the Azure Sky Cave, not even in the next thousand years.
Moreover, everyone said that stinky Daoist from the Eastern Sea’s Guan Dao Temple was notoriously vengeful and loved to hold grudges.
The Dao Ancestor was probably traveling on an ox. So what did Fellow Daoist Lingjun mean by “guarantee he would be well fed”? Wasn’t that an outright provocation?
The saying “Since leaving the cave, I have had no equal; where there is room for forgiveness, I will not forgive” was no empty boast from a master. In ancient times, this Master of the Azure Sky Cave of the Luo Bao Beach had only met his match with the Dao Ancestor, suffering a great loss. But in the long ancient years, quite a few human “Daoists” had suffered at the hands of this senior.
And then advising the Dao Ancestor to change his name—what was that about?!
Was there really such a reckless... bold and heroic figure in the world?
The Old Scholar laughed. “Brother Yu, when you get a chance, why not visit the Fallen Mountain in person? You’ll see how simple and honest the atmosphere is there and how sincere they are in receiving guests.”
Yu Xuan nodded slightly. Before hearing of Fellow Daoist Lingjun’s heroic deeds, he might have gone or not to that Fallen Mountain in Vase Bottle Continent. Now he felt he absolutely had to go.
It was unimaginable. What kind of land and water could nurture such an iron-boned hero? How could it be that even compared to Gu Qingsong, this one was even more remarkable?
Cultivators in the world—some, like himself, the Old Scholar next to him, and Lu Chen, were indeed the kind to be easygoing about most things.
But there were also those like the Master of the Azure Sky Cave, Yu Dou, Zheng Juzhong, and Gao Gu, who were more rigid and liked to argue. Try joking with them to their face!
This time, Yu Xuan’s merge with the Dao was indeed quite abrupt and unexpected. Additionally, on the Righteous World side, there were numerous strict rules for cultivators who wanted to ascend to the outer heavens. Moreover, some mountaintop cultivators who had bad, poor, or mediocre relations with the Confucian Temple were unwilling to report and plead with the Middle Earth Confucian Temple over this matter. Most thought they would wait until Yu Xuan returned to his sect on the Middle Earth Divine Continent before visiting to exchange pleasantries.
So besides Gu Qingsong and thick-skinned cultivators like Jing Hao, almost none of Yu Xuan’s mountain friends of similar realm showed up today.
The Old Scholar’s merge took place across the lands of Tongye, Posuo, and Fuyao continents. Even from beyond the heavens, it wasn’t hard to summon people.
But the mountains and rivers of those three continents were riddled with devastation. In particular, great cultivators at the Flying Ascension and Immortal realms had already withered away by seventy or eighty percent.
Yu Xuan tentatively asked the Old Scholar politely, “Otherwise, how about I inform a few of my close friends on the Middle Earth Divine Continent?”
The Old Scholar looked hesitant. “Would that be a bit inappropriate?”
In the world, how could you take the initiative to ask people for congratulatory gifts?
How was that any different from Fire Dragon True Person’s attitude: “You don’t have to come to Padi Peak in person, but your red envelopes must arrive. Even if the red envelope is thin, it’s still a token of your feelings”?
Yu Xuan then went with the flow and nodded, changing his tune: “It is a bit inappropriate.”
The Old Scholar immediately changed his tune too: “Actually, it’s not that bad. After all, this is such a great occasion, only once in a lifetime—more precious than becoming a groom.”
Yu Xuan was speechless for a moment.
Was your closed-door disciple really that poor now?
If he remembered correctly, earlier in the outer heavens, he and Bai Jing had made quite a bit of money.
Even setting that aside, if he really had no money, would Chen Ping’an have dared to initiate the digging of the great river on Tongye Continent?
Yu Xuan felt a bit helpless. This whole thing was starting to feel more and more twisted thanks to the Old Scholar.
The Old Scholar craned his neck to look into the distance and laughed. “Oh my, someone from the Azure Mystery Heaven has arrived. Brother Yu, I envy you. You really have many friends.”
Yu Xuan glanced into the distance and smiled. “They’re all people I’ve never met before. How can they be considered friends?”
The Old Scholar sat cross-legged and tapped his knee with his wine flask. “This time, the latest Ten People of the Azure Mystery Heaven have quite a large number of candidates?”
Yu Xuan nodded. “Twenty-one in total.”
Even before successfully merging with the starry river, Yu Xuan still had a panoramic view of the world.
In particular, certain qi refiners who cultivated by pulling celestial bodies all had to use various secret techniques to “pay respects to the mountain” with Yu Xuan. So the Old Scholar’s remark hit the mark.
Among them, the Jade Capital Temple had three Daoist officials who made it onto the candidate list. Of course, if you added the Execution Officer Hao Su, who had just entered the Shenxiao City, that made four.
The first Azure Mystery Daoist to arrive was an elderly temple official from the Jade Capital Temple. He had long eyebrows and broad shoulders, white brows covering his cheekbones, and a lean, clear appearance—at first glance, a true old immortal.
The old Daoist had an extremely long Dao age. His two snow-white long brows were natural: long eyebrows often signify longevity. Especially for those with “long ears,” it is a classic sign of wealth, honor, and long life.
Among the qi refiners of the three teachings and hundred schools, Daoists are universally acknowledged to live the longest.
But when he saw the Wen Sage, whose age was only a fraction of his own, the old True Man from the Jade Capital Temple’s Biyun Tower also smiled and greeted him as “Old Scholar.”
This was probably the unique prestige of the Wen Sage.
Just like earlier, when Liu Qi came here to congratulate Yu Xuan, but because the Wen Sage was present, he had to mention the “Wen Sage” before Yu Xuan in his opening remarks.
This could be considered a fine point in the officialdom of mountains and waters, an indispensable part of human relations, and certainly a heartfelt recognition of the Wen Sage’s scholarship.
The Old Scholar stood up, bowed in return, and said with a beaming smile, “Greetings to Old Immortal Huang.”
Huang Jieshou, whose Dao name on the Jade Capital Temple’s golden jade register was “Quanheng,” and because his surname was Huang, and the Dao Ancestor had once bestowed a “Xuan” character on the plaque of Huang Jieshou’s library, the old True Man had always called himself “Xuan Huang.”
He was the second-to-last master of Biyun Tower. The two subsequent masters were both disciples of this old True Man’s dharma lineage. When Huang Jieshou voluntarily stepped down as tower master, the old True Man only went to guard the Zhenyue Palace, which was actually watching over the Yanxia Cave, used by the Jade Capital Temple to imprison criminals.
The Old Scholar smiled and asked, “Old Immortal, how is it that you have the leisure to come here?”
Huang Jieshou pointed at the sparse keys still hanging from his waist and laughed. “To be honest with the Wen Sage, I am now free of all burdens.”
It turned out that not long ago, the old True Man had also handed over his remaining identity as a Daoist official, the master of Zhenyue Palace.
Huang Jieshou of Biyun Tower was of the same generation as Pang Ding, the city lord of Lingbao City, whose Dao name was “Xucan”—an unquestionable elder of the Jade Capital Temple.
Among the living Jade Capital Temple Daoist officials—excluding those who had undergone dissolution and reincarnation to return to the Jade Capital Temple and renew their Dao fate—in terms of seniority and generation, the old True Man was second only to Chief Leader Kou Ming, ahead of Second Chief Yu Dou.
Legend has it that when the old True Man was a youth, not long after entering the Jade Capital Temple to cultivate, he had the fortune to travel with the Dao Ancestor and Chief Kou Ming to the outer heavens. Back then, as a youth, he had already sighed, “Waiting for the Yellow River to clear—how long is a human life?”
As for why the Old Scholar was so polite, it was not because of the other’s Dao age or status, but according to a certain statement by Daoist Master Sun of the Mysterious Metropolis Temple: Huang Jieshou was one of the few “good birds” of the Jade Capital Temple. He rarely participated in the Jade Capital Temple’s deliberations. On that rare occasion when he showed up, he left behind a dissenting opinion that caused a considerable stir within the Jade Capital Temple. The old True Man’s general meaning was, “What harm is there in letting the scholar Qi Jingchun have a great road?”
At that time, Daoist Master Sun was silent for a moment, then said to the Old Scholar with a smile, “That’s just the rumor on the outside. In fact, Huang Jieshou’s words were even more blunt.”
“We Daoists merely have longer years of cultivation. Why should we block a young upstart from carving out his own path to heaven based on his ability?”
At the time, one old Daoist of equivalent status to Huang Jieshou countered, “If Qi Jingchun can ascend to heaven, how can we stop him?”
But this latter sentence, though Daoist Master Sun was on bad terms with the Jade Capital Temple, he intentionally concealed from the Old Scholar and did not say it.
Because he deeply understood the enmity between the Wen Sage’s lineage and the Jade Capital Temple, Huang Jieshou, on this trip, did not utter any polite phrases like “please visit Biyun Tower.”
After Huang Jieshou, a refined man who looked like a noble youth arrived from the Azure Mystery Heaven. He was the leading cultivator on Ruzhou Mountain, with the Dao name “Green Duckweed,” a most elegant and interesting person.
He and Daoist Master Sun of the Mysterious Metropolis Temple—one was a firm eleventh in the world, the other an unshakable fifth.
But this time, he failed to hold on to his eleventh-place seat.
There were as many as nine female cultivators among the Azure Mystery Heaven candidates.
Tonight, four of them came to the outer heavens, seemingly having arranged to come together.
Lei Yu, originally of the demon race, her true form a viper, and one of the few female cultivators who still had no Dao name.
In the Kongshan Lake, known as the “Little Four Prefectures,” she was one of the two lake lords, occupying the largest island, with a territory not inferior to Yong Province.
Her ancestral mountain was called Fuchuan Mountain, with the main peak named Gechuangjian.
Also among them was the female Daoist Yang Qing. Her Dao name was “Shenlou” (Mirage Tower). It was said she excelled in the Taiyi Divine Numerology, recognized as the best in the world.
Yang Qing hailed from the Hongnong Yang clan of You Province, and she was also the owner of the Haiyi Xian Guan (Marine Mountain Immortal Hall) of the Shoushan Pavillion.
This female Daoist of noble birth, though she had a very long Dao age, had the appearance of a young maiden—graceful and slender, appearing sixteen or seventeen, with a face like a flower, bright red, and eyes like lacquer.
There were also two female cultivators, almost carved from the same mold, with only a slight difference: both had a beauty mark at the corner of their mouths, one on the left and one on the right.
These twin sisters were named Xu Mian and Xu Yingning. Of them, Xu Yingning did not match the rumors of ugliness that circulated outside.
Besides being the respective mistresses of the Qingni Cave Heaven and Tianrang Blessed Land, they were also the founding masters of two Daoist factions, the Shuzhuang (Dressing Table) Female Officers and the Juanlian (Rolling Screens) Soft Red Hands.
A millennium ago, they were still at the Immortal realm, and then, after receiving guidance from a master, they sealed their mountains and hid from the world.
Now, the sisters had not only entered the Flying Ascension realm but also been listed among the ten candidates.
When they saw this Old Scholar, who was relatively young but full of legend, they made a Daoist bow and respectfully called him “Wen Sheng, Sir.”
Although they were from two separate worlds, there were never any secrets at the mountain peaks.
The eldest disciple, Tapestry Tiger Cui Chan, and the early closed-door disciple Qi Jingchun—there was no need to speak of them.
Zuo You—it was said he started sword practice very late, but he cultivated until he became the number one swordsman in the Righteous World, turning the “genius” of the Middle Earth Divine Continent directly into a derogatory term.
Liu Shiliu—he had once, with a young boy wearing a tiger-head hat, thrown a punch at the Jade Capital Temple. After one punch, he dragged the delicate boy and ran away.
That True Invincible was in the Jade Capital Temple at the time, and surprisingly, he didn’t fight back.
Each of them had their own curiosities and questions.
Obviously, congratulating Yu Xuan was secondary; the real point was to chat a few more words with the Wen Sage.
The female cultivator Lei Yu was powerfully built, her muscles clearly defined, but it didn’t give her a rough appearance; instead, it gave her a rare kind of beauty.
She was the first to speak, asking with a laugh, “Wen Sheng, Sir, your student Liu Shiliu once threw a punch at the Jade Capital Temple, causing quite a stir. At the time, there was a young boy wearing a strange hat beside him. Was that really the most proud person in the world?”
The whole world knew: Bai Ye is peerless in poetry, and his swordsmanship is even more outstanding.
If Bai Ye weren’t a pure sword cultivator, I’m afraid countless admirers from every world would blindly believe that, if Bai Ye were willing to go to the Sword Qi Great Wall, he could certainly determine who was superior with Chen Qingdu.
The Old Scholar looked clueless. “Huh?”
Last time they parted at the Mysterious Metropolis Temple, he remembered Bai Ye as a beautifully delicate child wearing a tiger-head hat.
Yang Qing smiled knowingly.
Earlier, Liu Shiliu and Bai Ye had visited the Shou Shan Pavillion and rested briefly at her Marine Peak Immortal Villa.
But such matters were not to be spread outside.
Otherwise, she might have been as baffled as Lei Yu. How could a divine figure like Bai Ye, whether in the form of a child or a youth, wear such a ridiculous tiger-head hat?
But their relationship was indeed good.
Just that when they rose to leave, Liu Shiliu even helped that... Bai Ye adjust his tiger-head hat as he went out the door.
Even now, she still found it amusing.
Lei Yu said generously, “Wen Sheng, Sir, you are welcome to visit my Gechuangjian on Kongshan Lake as a guest. We have plenty of wine, more than enough food and drink! We also have some books. Sir, just take whatever catches your eye!”
She had heard that this renowned Wen Sheng’s “wine-seeking” skill was number one in the world. Coincidentally, the wine brewed in her own Kongshan Lake was no worse than any immortal brew in the Azure Mystery Heaven.
The Old Scholar chuckled. “I want to go, of course I do. I’ve been longing for Kongshan Lake, dreaming of it for a long time. But your Chief Yu might not welcome me.”
She grinned. “Sir, just go. The Jade Capital Temple has no authority over our Little Four Prefectures.”
Whether the rumors on the mountains were true or not, for thousands of years, that True Invincible had indeed never set foot on Kongshan Lake even once. It seemed there really was some kind of restriction.
The Old Scholar then thanked this female lake lord.
Xu Mian said softly, “Wen Sheng, Sir, over on our Azure Mystery Heaven side nowadays, there are many—countless, in fact—who sincerely admire Hidden Official Chen.”
This was truly not a perfunctory remark. These Azure Mystery cultivators, who were not sparing in their praise of the young Hidden Official, had one thing in common: the vast majority of them were at odds with the Jade Capital Temple.
Take her Qingni Cave Heaven, for example. The number of qi refiners there was not large. Due to the mountain sealing for a thousand years, only occasionally did cultivators of the upper five realms go out to travel the fourteen prefectures, select cultivation seeds, and bring them back to the cave heaven. As for her sister Xu Yingning’s blessed land, it was a similar situation, though they were still fairly well-informed about major events happening outside, having made an effort to stay updated.
Xu Yingning laughed. “Unlike my sister, among the younger generation, I still prefer Cao Ci a bit more.”
The Old Scholar nodded and smiled. “Cao Ci is a young man who deserves any praise.”
Indeed, Cao Ci is the typical person who doesn’t vie with the world, and the world can’t compete with him for anything.
So for someone like Cao Ci, others probably don’t even feel jealousy.
Besides, if the world thinks highly of Cao Ci, isn’t that just thinking highly of his own closed-door disciple?
Xu Mian hesitated for a moment, then said in a telepathic voice, “Wen Sheng, Sir, could I ask Hidden Official Chen for a few seal stamps and a folding fan on behalf of a friend? If it’s possible, I’ll be brazen and also ask for two more collections of seal impressions.”
The Old Scholar stroked his beard and smiled. If it was a “creating something out of nothing” case, where a friend was fabricated from thin air, then he as the master really didn’t dare to rashly take on everything.
Last time at the inn in the Great Li capital, his closed-door disciple had gotten angry with his master for making a mess of things, hadn’t he?
That was Chen Ping’an. If it had been Zuo You or Jun Qian, just try it—they’d knock your head until it swelled.
Xu Mian was sharp and understanding. She immediately smiled. “If it’s too much trouble for the Wen Sheng, forget it.”
The Old Scholar said, “I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll mention it to my student later. I think it should be fine.”
Xu Mian thanked the Old Scholar, performing a graceful curtsy.
Then a few more Daoists from outside the Jade Capital Temple came to congratulate Yu Xuan.
The Old Scholar waved his hand, gently dispersing a scroll of the river of time and light that was fading in color.
Chen Ping’an silently recorded the varied words and actions of those Azure Mystery cultivators.
Lu Chen said a digression for no apparent reason: “To use the unbalanced to balance, that very balance becomes unbalanced.”
Chen Ping’an nodded, then shook his head, his expression complex. “That’s the principle, but things aren’t that simple.”
Lu Chen smiled. “After all, it’s a problem Tapestry Tiger gave you. There really isn’t such a simple answer.”
Later, the three of them ate supper together. Zhao Shu Xia and Ning Ji weren’t hungry, so they didn’t sit at the table. They intentionally vacated the wine table for the seniors. Since they had nothing to do, they stayed by the side of the sunning ground, one watching the mountains, the other listening to the water.
Zhao Shu Xia was still thinking about draining the marsh to catch the fish. Ning Ji was thinking about a certain question Daoist Lu had asked him: what was the youth’s vision after becoming Zheng Ping’an’s disciple and becoming a scholar?
Ning Ji, of course, had no answer.
The Daoist asked the scholar, “Studying books and learning swordsmanship—what will it bring?”
Coincidentally, at that time, Chen Ping’an was lying in a rattan chair under the moon, cooling himself with a palm-leaf fan, and he said a few words about his reading experience to his closed-door disciple in fist arts, Zhao Shu Xia.
It seemed that the wisdom of this life was acquired through reading in a past life, and reading in this life seemed to be for the sake of a future life.
At that time, Ning Ji was thoughtful, as if he understood something.
Lu Chen just smiled and told the youth, who was about to have a clear master-disciple lineage, to think some more, think hard. When he had an answer in his heart in the future, and when they met again, he could tell Lu Chen.
After that, in the world for another ten thousand years, the great earth, the mountains and rivers were green and lush: yellow birds, green bamboo, white clouds, green mountains, bright moon shining on the Dragon Spring, a newly sharpened three-foot sword. Asking the scholar: who dares to calm the winds? Who can calm the winds?