Chapter 1039: Drunk, I Trim the Lamp and Gaze at My Sword
With one table and many guests, they had to squeeze together.
Chen Ping'an sat between Little Rice and Chen Lingjun, while Chen Qingliu and Xin Ji'an shared a long bench. Jing Hao and Bai Deng sat together, and poor Silver Deer, not understanding the situation, got to have a bench all to himself.
Although Silver Deer felt extremely uncomfortable, he couldn't very well force someone to sit beside him. He could tell that the white-robed youth with the Dao name Turbulent Monarch was a Jade Perfection Realm sword immortal full of dragon qi. As for the others—Jing Hao, and especially the two late arrivals from Falling Mountain—Silver Deer couldn't gauge their depths at all. The fact that he couldn't see through their cultivation spoke volumes; Silver Deer knew his own limits well.
Seeing Silver Deer's awkward situation, Zheng Dafeng set down the tray with both hands and pulled the Daoist priest Xian Wei to sit down. Silver Deer, showing some awareness, quickly moved to the edge of the bench to let the gatekeeper with the wooden hairpin and Daoist robes sit in the middle. Little Rice looked at Good Man Mountain Lord with questioning eyes. Chen Ping'an smiled and nodded, so the black-clad little girl stood up and started bustling about. Zheng Dafeng pushed the tray toward Little Rice, and she pulled handfuls of melon seeds from her sleeve and placed them on the tray. Then she opened her cloth satchel, took out two oil-paper-wrapped packages of dried fish, and poured them into a porcelain plate. Zheng Dafeng then placed the tray in the middle of the table so everyone could reach it easily.
Not just in the Haoran world, but in the entire human realm, there weren't many who would entertain guests like this.
Xiao Mo had already persuaded Xie Gou to leave—or, to be precise, dragged the mink-hatted girl away.
Don't ever think that Bai Jing only bluffs; if a fight actually started, she'd really fight.
Chen Ping'an said to Xin Ji'an with a smile, "Mr. Mei Qin, let's have tea here first. Later we'll go up the mountain to drink, where there's more space."
Xin Ji'an picked up his tea bowl and smiled. "No problem. This is very comfortable already."
Having lived a life on horseback and by nature, Xin Ji'an never had the airs of immortals like Jing Hao.
When Jing Hao heard the address "Mr. Mei Qin," he had just raised his bowl but his hand trembled, and his heart immediately tensed.
If we're talking about scholars in the Haoran world with the style or sobriquet "Mei Qin," there were no less than a thousand—but who else could it be if not the "Mr. Mei Qin" who was traveling with Immortal Lord Chen to tour Falling Mountain?
Xin Ji'an glanced at Jing Hao, who had already guessed his identity, and said with a smile, "On the way here, my good friend and I talked about the matter of Azure Palace Mountain's ownership. I don't agree, of course. But this is your family business; as an outsider, I have no right to comment."
Chen Ping'an gave a knowing smile.
He remembered that a sage from the Confucian Temple had once evaluated Xin Ji'an with words both praise and criticism.
A true commander, sweeping through a thousand voids—but when he acted with wanton abandon, no one dared speak a word against him.
In simple terms, when he was leading troops, governing the state, or pacifying the world, others should not chatter and interrupt.
Chen Lingjun's mind wasn't on the genteel young Daoist; he was busy making eyes at Chen Qingliu. *Good buddy, let's use tea instead of wine; cheers, cheers.*
Chen Qingliu raised his wine bowl and drank the tea with the air of downing strong liquor. Chen Lingjun drained his bowl, wiped his mouth, and let out an "Ahhh"—refreshing!
Xin Ji'an picked up a dried stream fish, chewed slowly, and nodded. "Good flavor."
Little Rice scratched her cheek, smiling shyly, and pointed to the other kinds of dried stream fish on the plate. "Mr. Mei Qin, there are also belly-crawlers and yellow-spicies—they're all pretty tasty."
Xin Ji'an squinted and smiled, then indeed reached out again and picked up two more dried fish. "Alright, I'll try them all."
Little Rice also squinted and smiled.
Chen Ping'an smiled and introduced her. "Mr. Mei Qin, her name is Zhou Mili. She is the Right Guardian of our Falling Mountain."
Xin Ji'an nodded. "I heard from Qingliu. Very good—this is the kind of atmosphere a mountain sect should have. Just my personal opinion."
Earlier, Chen Qingliu had specifically reminded Xin Ji'an that his current identity was a poor scholar from Beiju Continent named Chen Qingliu, and at Falling Mountain, he shouldn't let slip anything to Daoist friend Jing Qing.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jing Hao noticed that Chen Lingjun, who had been grinning all along, was becoming harder to read. Did he not understand the weight of "Mei Qin"? Was it because he was uneducated, carefree, or did he know and simply not care? In just these few days, this green-clad child had brought Jing Hao too many surprises. Any normal person would be confused by Chen Lingjun.
Chen Qingliu smiled amiably. "Jing Qing, remember I told you I have a friend surnamed Xin? I said I'd introduce you later."
Chen Lingjun, who had long since taken off his boots and sat cross-legged, looked blank. "Huh?"
*Damn it. We've drunk so many times together and talked about so much nonsense—I've long forgotten. I can't just pretend I remember. You're putting me in a spot!*
Chen Qingliu raised his sleeve, brought his two fingers together, and pointed at the white bowl on the table, as if giving a signal. He laughed. "Cup, come here!"
"If you'd said that earlier, I'd have understood. I remember—of course I remember!"
Chen Lingjun slapped his knee and burst into laughter, giving Mr. Mei Qin a thumbs up. "Brother Xin, on the drinking table, you've got the touch! This is it!"
If he weren't sitting so far away, he'd have slapped his shoulder in respect.
Xin Ji'an laughed. "Drunk talk—don't take it seriously."
Chen Lingjun doubled over with laughter, raising one hand as if pushing open a door. "Brother Chen also said you're not much of a drinker. Once you got drunk by a pine tree and tried to push it away, saying 'Go on, go on' for half the day..."
Xin Ji'an was amused.
Then the green-clad child got a slap from his own master.
Chen Lingjun sheepishly immediately suppressed his smile. "Brother Xin, I'm not making fun of you. I can't control my mouth when I drink—don't mind me. We're family, so we speak directly."
Little Rice reminded him softly, "Jing Qing, Jing Qing—you haven't even drunk yet."
Chen Lingjun imitated his master's sigh. "Ah, you just don't get it. 'River-lake children, meeting by chance, feel like old friends at first sight—like drinking fine wine.'"
Little Rice didn't want to contradict Jing Qing in public, so she just furrowed her sparse, pale yellow brows, held her bowl with both hands, and lowered her head to drink tea.
Chen Lingjun realized he'd slipped up and quickly changed the subject. He turned his head, covered his mouth, and whispered to Little Rice, "Little Rice, later I'll find you ten riddles."
Little Rice grinned and quickly lowered her head again.
Xin Ji'an glanced at the Daoist priest Xian Wei, who was just drinking his tea, then looked at Chen Ping'an.
Chen Ping'an gave a slight nod.
Jing Hao remained silent for a long time. The old Daoist had attended thousands of ceremonies and banquets in his life, but he had never encountered such a frivolous "drinking party."
Across the table was the Dragon-Slayer. Bai Deng was on high alert to the extreme and still hadn't recovered.
Sitting at the same table and drinking tea with an enemy who "hunts dragons wherever there is a dragon in the world"—this was a situation Bai Deng never dared to imagine.
And Silver Deer had no idea that the Daoist priest sitting next to him, once the vice-city lord of Immortal Hairpin City, was the true master of that city, the owner of the Daoist hairpin that had fallen into the mortal world.
After tea, they split into two groups.
Chen Ping'an and Little Rice were responsible for taking Xin Ji'an on a detour up the mountain to the Ancestral Mountain Gathering Spirit Peak for a stroll. As for Chen Qingliu, he followed Chen Lingjun to nearby Iris Peak to drink.
A white-haired boy had never joined the table; he just squatted by the mountain gate, took out a booklet, and began recording the year, month, day, and certain names.
Walking on the mountain path toward Gathering Spirit Peak, where the Ancestral Hall was located.
Xin Ji'an took the initiative to say, "This time, the Confucian Temple is enfeofling the Five Mountain Lords of Precious Bottle Continent. It's not the Sub-Sage or the Literary Sage, nor the Temple's Pope or the Academy's Libationer who are presiding over the ceremony. Instead, it's the five disciples of the Ultimate Sage who will appear. Their current stance is somewhat similar to yours. One of them appeared with me in the Barren Wasteland World; he is a beloved disciple of the Ultimate Sage, who never hides his partiality. As for the one beyond the heavens, I heard from Chen Qingliu that you previously followed the Ritual Sage to block the Barren Wasteland World—you may have already met him. In the distant past, he was the accountant for those ancient scholars, managing both profound studies and finances."
Chen Ping'an suddenly understood and nodded. "I've only met him briefly; at the time, I couldn't recognize that sage's identity."
If he had known earlier, to use Chen Lingjun's drinking-table parlance, he would have certainly exchanged a few words.
Earlier, on the desolate plains where spiritual qi was thin, two people lived in adjacent thatched huts.
Before leaving the training ground, the big-bearded man found an iron sword and a tall hat, put on a scholar's robe, adjusted his hat, and grasped his sword.
Xin Ji'an gathered his three thousand "Po Zhen Zi" poems, took down a long sword from the wall, and together with his good friend, they headed into the heart of the wasteland.
Chen Ping'an asked with a smile, "Mr. Mei Qin, after we drink later, may I trouble you for a calligraphy scroll?"
Xin Ji'an shook his head. "Mountain Lord Chen, let's forget the drinking."
When they reached the white jade square outside the Ancestral Hall on Gathering Spirit Peak, the scenery was picturesque. Xin Ji'an leaned on the railing and gazed at the magnificent vista.
Little Rice noticed that Good Man Mountain Lord seemed to be waiting for something. When Mr. Mei Qin silently moved away, Good Man Mountain Lord looked a bit disappointed?
Ah, she understood. Good Man Mountain Lord wanted a poetry duel!
Hmph, Wei Mountain Lord said that Good Man Mountain Lord's doggerel was truly unique!
They followed the mountain path to Iris Peak. Chen Ping'an was too embarrassed to take Xin Ji'an to his bamboo "study." Zhu Lian stepped in to help the mountain lord entertain the rare guest.
Wind passed through the courtyard, and the iron horse under the eaves seemed to make a clanging neigh.
Xin Ji'an, who had said he wouldn't drink, frowned as soon as the old cook in an apron brought out several plates of appetizers and said, "No need for the mountain's celestial brew; just ordinary market firewater will do."
Except for Little Rice, who was cracking melon seeds, everyone drank to a slight tipsiness. Xin Ji'an asked with a smile, "For that calligraphy scroll, will it be a line from old poems found in dusty archives, or an impromptu new composition?"
Chen Ping'an was a bit embarrassed.
He thought both old and new poems were fine.
It was just a matter of taking an extra sheet of blank rice paper.
Xin Ji'an, unfamiliar with the wine shop's second manager's temperament, said on his own, "Let's go with old lines then."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Just one sentence will do."
Xin Ji'an asked doubtfully, "Which sentence?"
Chen Ping'an smiled and looked at Little Rice, making a gesture with one hand holding a cup and the other twisting his wrist, like a riddle. Little Rice thought for a moment, figured out the answer, and immediately raised her hand. "I know, I know! Good Man Mountain Lord wants Mr. Mei Qin to write down a sentence, just six characters!"
The dragon among poets, Xin Ji'an.
He had written too many excellent and memorable verses, both bold and restrained.
Little Rice cleared her throat, straightened her back, and loudly gave the answer: "Drunk, I trim the lamp and gaze at my sword!"
Xin Ji'an was silent for a moment, then laughed. "Then I'll trouble Mr. Zhu to stir-fry a couple more dishes and bring out two more jars of wine."
---
Chen Lingjun was radiant, taking his new and old friends to drink at his own residence—a rare opportunity.
Before climbing the mountain, he spoke telepathically to Zheng Dafeng, asking him to put in a good word with Wei Mountain Lord and beg for a few jars of immortal brew. The bigger the reputation, the better; price didn't matter, as he could buy them from the Mountain Lord's mansion. Brother Zheng was usually unreliable, but he was trustworthy at critical moments. He nodded in agreement and said he'd personally deliver the goods to Elder Chen later, promising they'd all be fine wines—the mountain brews that had been aged for many years in the Ritual Department of Cloak Cloud Mountain.
If not for the friends present, Chen Lingjun would have given Brother Zheng a leg massage and shoulder rub.
Walking on the mountain path, Chen Lingjun swung his sleeves with abandon.
Chen Lingjun was truly happy to see Chen Qingliu, and he kept patting Chen Qingliu's sleeve from time to time. *Tsk tsk, such solid muscles. Brother Zheng's description was perfect: young lads with fiery vitality can even bake flatbread on their butts.*
He just wondered if Brother Chen, of the same surname five hundred years ago, had found a wife yet. Probably not. With no money in his pocket and no backbone, relying only on a handsome face—he could fool young girls in the mortal world who liked scholar-beauty romances, but in the mountain world, that wasn't popular. Unless... he looked like Chief Zhou or Sword Immortal Mi? As for the old cook, he was shabby; being a bachelor was normal.
Though they were all friends, in Chen Lingjun's heart, there were clear distinctions of intimacy.
Chen Qingliu, Brother Jia, Bai Mang, that water god brother from the Imperial River, Ji Canal Dragon Marquis Li Yuan—these were all Chen Lingjun's top-tier close friends.
As for Old Senior Jing Hao and Fellow Daoist Bai Deng, they'd just met, so they'd have to see how they drank at the table and how they behaved outside over time. Regardless, friends only increased with drinking.
Chen Qingliu looked sideways at Jing Hao, who was walking to Chen Lingjun's right, and said telepathically with a smile, "So we meet again."
This Jing Hao still had some brains, taking the initiative to come visit Chen Lingjun.
Jing Hao didn't dare reveal his mountain connection with Immortal Lord Chen, so he could only reply telepathically, "This junior never thought he'd meet Immortal Lord Chen again here—double the joy."
Chen Qingliu curled his lips. This guy annoyed him, so he started rubbing salt in Jing Hao's wounds. "It's one thing to admit defeat in front of those around him, but Chen Ping'an is now just a tenth-level Nascent Soul cultivator. What right does he have to act tough against a Flying Ascension Realm cultivator like you? 'Keep him at respectful distance,' huh? Not much of a realm, but quite the mouth. Can you take it?"
Jing Hao opened his mouth but hesitated.
He wanted to say something honest: *Senior, I can take it.*
With a sword that cleaved Mount Tuoyue, a man who inscribed the city walls before he was forty.
Even if Chen Ping'an dropped to Nascent Soul or lost all his cultivation, what did it matter? On his territory, listening to a few sarcastic remarks was nothing.
Chen Qingliu snorted disdainfully. "It's just that there happen to be two Flying Ascension sword cultivators of demonic origin by his side. What are you so afraid of? You haven't actively provoked Falling Mountain. Do they dare to cut you down with one sword? Do you really think the Confucian Temple's rules are just decoration? What, been lying low on the mountain too long, learned the turtle technique—when you can tuck your head in, just tuck it in?"
Jing Hao remained silent.
He feared that if he opened his mouth to say something tough, Immortal Lord Chen would immediately sell him out. Then today, he really wouldn't leave Falling Mountain alive.
Earlier, he hadn't dared to believe it, but now that Immortal Lord Chen had revealed the heavenly secret with a single word, Jing Hao's Dao heart trembled. So indeed there were two Flying Ascension cultivators, both sword immortals!
And crucially, they were from the Barren Wasteland demon race.
It was an established fact in the mountain world that Flying Ascension great demons from the Barren Wasteland could never be treated the same as Flying Ascension cultivators from other worlds.
Jing Hao glanced at the green-clad child beside him. Thanks to this one, he had gotten the opportunity to ascend the mountain.
If he couldn't participate in the Confucian Temple's deliberation in the Central Earth, at least he could drink a cup of wine at Falling Mountain. If news of this got out, the reputation of Azure Palace Mountain could be salvaged quite a bit, couldn't it?
Chen Lingjun noticed the expressions of Chen Qingliu and Jing Hao and asked suspiciously, "What are you two whispering about in secret?"
Chen Qingliu said cheerfully, "Just daring to chat a little with Senior Jing. Afraid I might say something wrong, accidentally touch the senior's reverse scales, and make him angry with me."
Jing Hao felt bitter but couldn't speak.
Only Chen Lingjun, kept in the dark, was trying to mediate. He earnestly advised, "Don't be like that. We're all friends. We haven't even started drinking yet, and you're saying hurtful things already? That's no good. Listen to me—hold it in. Wait until we've drunk, then speak freely. At the drinking table, there's no seniority."
The green-clad child also reminded Chen Qingliu telepathically, "What's wrong with you? Didn't I tell you about Senior Jing Hao's background earlier? With your realm and cultivation, don't say such blunt things in front of an old-timer like Jing Hao. These Flying Ascension great cultivators all have their tempers. Listen to me, tone down your talk."
Chen Qingliu replied telepathically, "I thought that with a mountain-top great cultivator like Jing Hao as a friend, you'd forget old friends like me who are too embarrassing to take out for a drink."
Chen Lingjun couldn't stand this. Irritated, he widened his eyes and sent a telepathic message: "Why are you so indiscriminate? You're the one with all the nonsense! Wait a bit, I'll first punish myself with three bowls, and you make sure to follow!"
Hesitating for a moment, Chen Lingjun still worried that Chen Qingliu had a bad temper, was prone to scholar's pride, couldn't control his mouth, and would get into trouble.
"It's not easy roaming the martial world alone—I know that. You have little skill, but you care most about face—I know that too!"
"So about those awkward matters, like whether you need me to arrange a place for you in the Northern Mountain area with a registered status or something—I won't even mention it. But as for spirit money, it's all external things. After we separated all these years, I've saved up quite a bit. Take it all. But I have to tell you in advance: I've divided it into two shares—one for you, and the other for Bai Mang, because he's also a good brother. Who else do I have as friends? Not many, and the only ones who have no money but still like to act like big spenders are the two of you."
"Don't mind my rambling, and don't be shy. It's us—we're like brothers. Our friendship has been forged through hardship. So if you're in trouble, I'll give you both shares. For Bai Mang's share, I'll just save up again from scratch. I promise I won't short him a single snowflake coin. And if the money isn't enough, I'll borrow from others. Without boasting, here at Falling Mountain, borrowing money from anyone is a word's work—no need to owe favors. Wei Mountain Lord of Cloak Cloud Mountain, the one who likes hosting night banquets—he and I are so close we're practically sworn brothers. So tell me, since my money is your money, is money even an issue? It's nothing!"
"Also, I'm just saying—if you encounter something that money can't solve, don't hide it from me today. It's not worth it. If you look down on me, just say the word. I'll leave Falling Mountain with you, even if it's to the Beiju Continent. I have countless mountain friends there, each one reliable. I used to think you had high pride—poor as a scholar, with that innate aloofness—so you might not like hearing this. That's why I didn't bother showing off these connections that sound impressive."
Having said that, Chen Lingjun gently patted his friend's arm. Hesitating a bit, he whispered, "I know that asking for help, even from a close friend, still hurts inside. Maybe the closer the relationship, the more uncomfortable it is. It's okay—when we get to the drinking table, we'll have a good drink."
Chen Lingjun thought to himself that he wasn't stupid. If Chen Qingliu, that stubborn poor scholar, hadn't really hit hard times, he wouldn't have traveled across continents to Falling Mountain to see him.
Regardless of what others thought, Chen Lingjun had always believed that the hardest thing in the world was to ask a friend for a favor, because it made the friend feel troubled.
Chen Qingliu smiled and reached out to ruffle the green-clad child's head.
Chen Lingjun slapped his hand away angrily. "I'm pouring out my heart and soul here, almost making myself emotional, and you're being disrespectful! Looking for a drink, are you?"
"How can you not be moved? I'm deeply moved too, old brother."
"Ha! Then cry one for me, quickly!"
Bai Deng, who could only follow silently behind them, was now shaking at the knees. This green-clad child really dared to talk! Did he not know how to spell the word "death"?
Chen Qingliu sensed the telepathic flow and turned to smile. "Little fellow, are you that eager to see your ancestors?"
Bai Deng was sweating profusely and speechless.
A dragon descendant, sitting at the same table drinking with a dragon-slayer.
He shouldn't have left the mountain. Indeed, he should never have left the mountain for this trip.
Pushing open the door of the house, which was never locked, Chen Lingjun led his friends to the main hall. They sat down at the table. Soon, Zheng Dafeng brought a load of wine, accompanied by a pink-skirted girl carrying a box of pastries and a bamboo basket of fruit.
Chen Nuanshu curtsied to everyone, placed the pastries and fruit on the table, and said, "Immortals, please wait a moment. The appetizers will be delivered soon."
Chen Lingjun looked very embarrassed.
Chen Nuanshu glanced at him and said softly, "Treat your guests well."
Chen Lingjun didn't even dare to look at her directly; he just nodded vigorously.
On Falling Mountain, besides the old cook, Chen Nuanshu's culinary skills were also good. She had even learned a few signature dishes from him.
Agile as ever, Chen Nuanshu went to her own kitchen and soon brought over a large food box containing seven or eight different appetizers, all fragrant and delicious.
Leaving the house, she gently closed the door.
Inside, the drinking had already begun. The green-clad child's loud voice boomed, apparently playing the finger-guessing game with his friends.
Without even looking, she knew he was standing on the bench.
Zheng Dafeng was waiting outside. He asked with a smile, "Not angry?"
Chen Nuanshu shook her head gently and smiled. "It's rare for him to be busy with something proper. Why would I be angry?"
Zheng Dafeng started gossiping. "I heard that down in the town, Chen Lingjun had several morning drinks."
Chen Nuanshu raised an eyebrow and bit her lip. "I can't be bothered with him!"
Back at the drinking table, after punishing himself with three bowls, Chen Lingjun was indeed standing on the bench, waving his hands. "Brother and I are heart to heart!"
Chen Qingliu waved his hands too and laughed. "I use my wits against my brother!"
Afraid my brother suffers hardship, I stand by when he gets beaten."
Hearing these drunken ravings, Jing Hao and Bai Deng could only stare blankly.
Chen Lingjun and Chen Qingliu started playing the finger-guessing game in the local dialect. "Two good brothers!" "Five champions!" "Six-six smooth..."
Immortal Lord Chen in his blue robe looked around blankly—neither books nor swords achieved anything. He cast a hundred thousand affairs into two or three cups.
Three thousand years of leisure, a sword spanning the air, flying over the vast Dongting Lake, past ancient Shu's myriad green mountains, coming again to this place—not to slay dragons, but to seek a full drunk with a close friend, to compete in drink and determine victory!
---
On the border between Yu Prefecture and Hong Prefecture, on an official road leading to Yuzhang Commandery, three plain wagons were inconspicuous.
In the middle wagon sat Emperor Song He and Empress Song Mian, both in plain clothes, shoulder to shoulder inside the carriage. She occasionally lifted the curtain to enjoy the scenery along the way.
In the last wagon sat Zhao Yao, the Vice Minister of Justice of the Imperial Guard, and Li Baozhen, the first Director of the Yu Prefecture Weaving Bureau, a Rank 4b official.
One was a highly influential court official; the other was a local official on the margins of bureaucracy.
Li Baozhen smiled. "Thanks to your influence, I get to ride along."
Zhao Yao smiled back. "We should thank His Majesty's approachability, allowing us to dispense with all those formalities."
Li Baozhen clicked his tongue.
Zhao Yao smiled and didn't respond. Although they were close acquaintances, a few polite official phrases were still necessary.
They were genuinely old acquaintances, both from wealthy families on Fortune Street in Huaihuang County. They weren't exactly the same age, but at least they weren't separated by a generation.
Over the years, Zhao Yao and Li Baozhen had kept up a correspondence.
Li Baozhen sent a telepathic message. "I heard that in the capital's grand court assembly, led by Yuan Zhengding, there was a proposal to move the capital?"
If the Great Li truly moved the capital to the current auxiliary capital Luojing, then for a certain prince who was now in the Barren Wasteland, it would really be a "draw the fire from under the cauldron."
The first Lake Governor of Shujian Lake was Xia Fan, who originated from the Great Li court's heroic spirits, with the assistant official Wu Guanqi. The latter had once managed intelligence gathering and organization in the central part of the continent for the Great Li court, and with Li Baozhen, who was in charge of intelligence in the southeast, they were of similar rank and authority. The Great Li Song clan was recognized as having three official realms: the mortal dynasty of the capital and local areas; the second realm composed of various deities; and the third realm consisted of agencies like the Longquan Commandery Kiln Supervision Office, the Yu Prefecture Weaving Bureau, and the Hong Prefecture Lumbering Institute, whose directors were of lower rank. But every director was an undisputed "eye of the Son of Heaven."
Of course, Lin Zhengcheng of the Lumbering Institute was probably the only exception.
Zhao Yao glanced at Li Baozhen and smiled without responding.
Li Baozhen leaned his head back against the carriage wall, pointed at Zhao Yao, and said, "You, since childhood, always liked to speak in your belly."
When it came to official luck, Li Baozhen, a Rank 4b official, was far inferior to his fellow townsman Zhao Yao, who had been promoted by His Majesty out of rank to Vice Minister of Justice.
Among the younger generation who had left the town and didn't pursue immortality as mountain immortals, the highest-ranking official was still Zhao Yao.
But within Yu Prefecture alone, the highest officials were the Governor and the Yu Prefecture General, neither of whom could control the Weaving Bureau or Li Baozhen. However, Li Baozhen and the Weaving Bureau could make those two high-ranking civil and military officials lose sleep.
Because Yu Prefecture was a key military stronghold, a place where armies must fight, the Yu Prefecture General Cao Mao also concurrently managed military affairs in neighboring Hong Prefecture.
Cao Mao didn't have the privilege of riding in a carriage; he had to follow a group of accompanying cultivators on horseback as a vanguard.
When Li Baozhen took up his post at the Yu Prefecture Weaving Bureau, he brought two trusted confidants, both surnamed Zhu, a father and daughter.
At this moment, Zhu He and Zhu Lu were riding behind, following the procession at a distance.
The Empress softly asked, "What about Yu Yu?"
Song He smiled and patted her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry. Though this elder of your family seems a bit scatterbrained and talks out of turn, she's actually very clever despite her youth. How else could she have become the behind-the-scenes strategist for the Earth Branch cultivators?"
In the leading carriage sat a woman and a young girl, facing each other. The girl kept glancing at the pearl bracelet on the woman's arm.
The woman, a ranking as the Empress Dowager of the state, had a dignified demeanor and didn't mind. She raised her wrist, pale as a lotus root, and jangled the bracelet with a smile. "Do you recognize it?"
The girl shook her head and said something odd: "I must pretend not to know, even if I've seen it before."
Nan Zan knew this girl's personality well. She seemed careless but was actually quite sneaky. So she continued, "The Yu family collection doesn't have anything like this. And it's not in the Great Li's Grade B treasury either?"
The pillar-of-state Yu family in Great Li officialdom kept a low profile. Nominally, they only managed local government-run silk and tea affairs. In their family history, there were neither famous ministers nor famous generals.
But setting aside the first-tier Yuan, Cao, and Guan families, and looking past the surface, considering only the foundation and inner substance, the Yu family was actually on par with the Tianshui Zhao family and the Zizhao Yan family. The Fufeng Qiu family and Poyang Ma family ranked lower than the Yu family. But these were truly inside stories; few Great Li officials dared claim to understand the threads and depths.
As for the Great Li court's Grade B treasury, it was a heavily guarded forbidden ground. Even for a woman of her status, entering would be impossible, and asking about it would be a violation.
Yu Yu had a complex expression and shook her head vigorously. "No way. National Teacher Cui rapped us a few times—none of us are allowed to use that item. Otherwise, even the memories of this lifetime would be erased, and we'd become idiots. According to Yuan Huajing, there was a poor soul earlier who didn't listen to advice, a veteran of the Earth Branch lineage, my senior. Because he privately found a bead, National Teacher Cui personally dealt with him, and his end was very tragic."
The girl patted the waist token inscribed with "Xu" (the eleventh Earthly Branch). "It was originally his possession. I'm just filling the vacancy. If he hadn't knowingly broken the rules, I'd probably still be learning embroidery at home."
Nan Zan pretended to hear this for the first time and smiled. "You're a military cultivator. Even if you hadn't taken over this Earth Branch position, you would have gone to True Martial Mountain or Wind Snow Temple to cultivate."
Nan Zan joked, "Now that our Great Li's National Teacher position has been vacant for years, you don't have to be so nervous. Besides, National Teacher Cui always valued you all and placed great hopes in you."
The girl sighed pitifully. "In officialdom, I understand the principle of 'a new emperor, new ministers.' But the problem is, National Teacher Cui is gone, but he still has a junior brother in the Shadow Office who returned home in glory. Empress Dowager, you don't know—we all got severely disciplined by that Shadow Office Lord in the capital. He taught us a few harsh lessons, and we were all beaten badly! It was a horrible sight! Now we all have psychological scars!"
Nan Zan's face suddenly paled. It wasn't because Yu Yu's words were treasonous or violated any official taboos, but because whenever the Empress Dowager heard that title "Shadow Office Lord," her head ached.
Yu Yu saw the trouble and immediately shut her mouth obediently.
Nan Zan unconsciously fingered the pearl bracelet on her wrist, her expression fluctuating.
Yu Yu knew that Chen Ping'an had once entered the imperial palace, but she didn't know what had happened, even as an Earth Branch cultivator.
Knowing how to pretend not to know certain things one shouldn't know was a skill in itself.
Last time, Chen Ping'an had brought Xiao Mo into the palace to meet the Great Li Empress Dowager Nan Zan, in order to ask "Lu Jiang" for the fragments of his fate porcelain.
At that time, the woman was wearing this specially made mountain bracelet. Each bead was a priceless "Lingxi Pearl." Such pearls could help one remember previous lives—one bead for one lifetime. When a qi refiner meditated and followed Daoist techniques, rubbing this pearl, they could concentrate their mind into a mustard seed, connecting with a single point of inspiration, crossing the prohibitions of time, and wandering mentally through a picture scroll recording past lives' scenes. Vividly remembered scenes from past lives would appear colorful and true; lighter memories would show faded colors; vague memories would only show outlines in pale ink.
Nan Zan sighed softly and forced a smile. But thinking that this trip out of the capital might very well allow her to encounter that arrogant bastard from Mud Vase Alley, her face darkened again.
Practically any profound sect kept such items on hand; even the Jade Capital was no exception.
This was so they could retrieve certain ancestors who had died and reincarnated, sifting through the vast sea of the mundane world to find their present reincarnation, bring them back to the mountain, and continue the Dao fate. If they could remember past-life memories, the path of cultivation would naturally be twice as effective. Jiang Zhaomo of the Jade Capital's Violet Qi Tower and Yu Xin of the Indus Leaf Sect were both cases like this.
Thus, Lingxi Pearls were always rare treasures with a price but no supply. When they appeared, cultivators would fight over them, spending a fortune at exorbitant prices, or even coming to blows. Such mountain treasures, whoever had them, would find them useful; they would never be useless. Because those immortal mansions that lacked this item in their treasuries—either unfortunate or too poor—would have to beg a sect that had Lingxi Pearls when they urgently needed one to help a certain "ancestor" awaken. This was the importance of mountain connections.
Nan Zan's bracelet had as many as twelve Lingxi Pearls. Apart from a few she had used, most of the pearls that once contained memories had been worn down by Chen Ping'an's attendant with the Dao name "Mo Sheng," using sharp sword light, turning them into... waste.
But Nan Zan wasn't sure about one thing: two of the Lingxi Pearls, though their radiance was also dim, might have just been sealed by a sword technique from that "Mo Sheng"?
Using one pearl, one could remember only part of the people and events from a previous life—those that were most unforgettable and clearly pictured. If one had been an enlightened being in a past life, the cultivation obstacles encountered and overcome would naturally not be forgotten with the help of a Lingxi Pearl. Thus, this practice became a shortcut up the mountain with no side effects.
The old coachman who had driven the Great Li Empress Dowager for years sent a telepathic warning: "You need to be careful about the inner demons at the Nascent Soul bottleneck. If it is indeed that Chen, you can forget about stepping into the Jade Perfection Realm this lifetime."
The old man's true identity was an ancient deity, the head of the Thunder Ministry's Judgment Office.
He continued, "When the mind arises, all demons arise. When the mind ceases, all demons cease."
Nan Zan's eyes lit up, and she smiled. "Thank you for the reminder, senior."
The old man said, "It's nothing. It's a sentence from a book of myths and monsters. I saw it and thought it had some logic. It sold well in the market back in the day, and it was cheap. Sales were no less than those mountain-water travelogues featuring Chen Ping'an as the protagonist."
Nan Zan suppressed the urge to curse.
Yu Yu returned to her simple, silly expression.
Sensing the heavy atmosphere in the carriage, Nan Zan composed her complicated emotions and asked casually, "Yu Yu, all of you select suitable treasures from the Grade B Secret Treasury. If I recall correctly, those Ministry of Justice offering cultivators with 'no-duty tokens' can exchange military merits for equivalent treasures, but they choose from the Grade C Treasury, which is piled with all kinds of heavenly treasures but of lower quality?"
Logically, there must be a deeper, more hidden "Grade A" treasury.
Yu Yu's expression turned playful as she looked at the Empress Dowager.
Nan Zan knew she had misspoken. "Pretend I didn't ask."
Yu Yu grinned. "Empress Dowager, there's nothing wrong with discussing this matter. It doesn't violate any taboos. National Teacher Cui once told me that if someone asks about it face-to-face in the future, I should give them the answer."
Nan Zan's face turned deathly pale; luckily her skin was already fair, so it wasn't too obvious.
Yu Yu pointed at herself, then at the woman, and gave the answer: "The Great Li dynasty's Grade A treasury is me, it is you, it is all the Earth Branch cultivators, it is the members of the Great Li Song clan to which the Empress Dowager belongs, it is all the registered mountain immortals, the various mountain and river deities..."
She paused for a moment, her eyes firm, and said solemnly: "It is every household register that records the Great Li dynasty's population and land registration in detail, every ordinary citizen of the Great Li dynasty. It is every land register that records the cadastral maps in detail, every inch of the Great Li dynasty's mountains and rivers and territory."
Nan Zan was silent.
Yu Yu smiled, breathed out lightly, and began to rest with her eyes closed.
Ha, just imitating National Teacher Cui Chan's speech was exhausting enough!
---
Cloak Cloud Mountain. In a reading spot shaded by dense pine trees, Mountain Lord Wei Bai closed a very heavy booklet. He propped his chin on one hand and lightly tapped the golden earring on his ear with his thumb, hesitating over the matter of self-selecting a divine title.
One of Falling Mountain's subsidiary peaks, the Sword Worship Platform. Xiao Mo felt a bit relieved. Xie Gou was whispering with the white-haired boy who served as the compiler, and with Guo Zhujiu, whom they revered as their alliance leader. They seemed to be conspiring about something important. As for the provocation at the mountain gate, Xie Gou had completely forgotten about it, acting as if nothing had happened. Xiao Mo's heart stirred slightly, and he moved away.
In the Great Li capital, a young cultivator named Zeng Yi, the young leader of the Five Islands Sect, planned to follow the instructions in Mr. Chen's letter. First, he would stay at an immortal's inn that was said to charge no fee when his name was mentioned, then go to an alley outside the Ren Yun Yi Yun Tower to find a master and apprentice named Liu Jia and Zhao Duanming.
At the old cook's residence, after drinking, Chen Ping'an swayed slightly. Taking only Xiao Mo with him, he quietly left Falling Mountain and went to the ancestral house in Mud Vase Alley in the town.