Chapter 1043: Who Watches Over Us
Chen Ping'an thought he had a decent understanding of Emperor Song He's temperament, so even if the man personally came to the village school, it wasn't particularly surprising. In fact, it felt somewhat reasonable. Of course, Chen Ping'an didn't have any intention of playing hard to get, thrice refusing before accepting. He just never expected that Song He and his group would actually settle in and stay. By the looks of it, since you, Chen Ping'an, said at the dinner table that you needed to consider that matter, then we'll just wait here for your definite answer. We'll wait until you've thought it through before we talk. Isn't that just being a scoundrel?
At first, Chen Ping'an didn't know about this. Earlier, after eating, he had only seen them off at the door, assuming that Song He and the others would go to the county seat or the prefectural city of Yanzhou to find lodging.
After roughly settling into their lodgings—of course, it was Yu Mian and Yu Yu who were busy with all that—Prefect Pei Tong and General Chu Liang had already returned to their respective offices, and Vice Minister Zhao Yao had also left. Song He was left to stroll alone through the village. The old houses here, for those with meager resources, were made of yellow mud. Those a bit better off had white walls and black tiles, with skywells where rainwater gathered from all four sides. The village paths were paved with long strips of bluestone, polished extremely smooth year after year by the passage of shoes, cart wheels, and cow hooves. Under the moonlight, they shone even brighter.
The village was mostly a single clan. The old and the young were all ranked by seniority. The middle character in their names indicated their generation.
After Song He left his lodgings, he hadn't even taken many steps before being barked at by local dogs more than once. To be honest, Song He was genuinely a bit frightened, afraid of actually being bitten by a dog. He couldn't exactly get into a fight with a dog and then limp back to see people, could he? That would be mortifying.
Walking along, genuinely somewhat terrified, Song He alternated between self-mockery and looking around. Then he spotted Chen Ping'an at the village head, sitting with a few old men smoking dry tobacco. The bookish teacher in his blue gown and long coat looked completely at ease, legs crossed, revealing a cloth shoe with a thousand-layer sole. He tilted his head slightly, leaning to one side, listening to the old men chat, occasionally nodding with a smile. By the looks of it, although Chen Ping'an was an outsider, he got along well with the locals.
A bit further away were some women and girls, chatting about trivial household matters. Song He only glanced over from a distance and noticed that several of the young girls seemed quite attentive to that elegant, scholarly teacher.
Seeing Song He's figure, Chen Ping'an choked on his tobacco smoke. After all, the man was an emperor—wasn't this a bit ungracious? Was he collecting debts like someone coming to take down the strips of pork from the roof beam on New Year's Eve?
Song He saw this and suppressed a smile, silently sitting down beside Chen Ping'an. The so-called bench was just a long wooden plank placed on two stacks of blue bricks. Poor His Majesty the Emperor, half his backside was hanging off.
Chen Ping'an had no choice but to scoot over, making some room for Song He.
Song He couldn't understand the local dialect, so Chen Ping'an helped explain. It turned out they were discussing a major matter. Yesterday, an old man in the village had passed away—a peaceful death at the end of his natural life—but because the old man wasn't from the same clan as the village, according to local customs, he couldn't have a wake set up in the village ancestral hall. The old man's descendants were unhappy about this and declared that if the ancestral hall didn't open its doors tonight, they would break in. Whoever dared to stop them, they'd fight their way in.
Song He asked, "If it were you, Mr. Chen, how would you resolve this?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head and said with a smile, "On one side, there's filial piety. On the other, there's custom. There's no way to resolve a situation like this. There just isn't."
A barefoot boy came from the Black Mud Pond, which was known for its effective rain prayers. He had caught two strange fish with long barbels and enormous heads, their bodies entirely golden yellow, as long as an adult's arm, curled up in the fish basket at the boy's waist.
Passing by the village head, Chen Ping'an glanced at the fish basket, called out the boy's name, and beckoned him over.
The boy quickly walked up to Chen Ping'an and called out, "Mr. Chen."
Chen Ping'an smiled and nodded in acknowledgment, then used the bamboo stem of his tobacco pipe to poke at the fish basket. The boy glanced at Song He beside Chen Ping'an and mistakenly thought that his teacher was entertaining a guest tonight and wanted to prepare a little something, maybe a late-night snack. Without hesitation, the boy took the fish basket from his waist and offered it to Mr. Chen.
Chen Ping'an waved his hand and said something in the local dialect that Song He couldn't understand. The boy was stunned for a moment, looked at Chen Ping'an, nodded vigorously, reattached the fish basket, and ran off.
Song He asked in a low voice, "Mr. Chen, what was that about?"
Chen Ping'an didn't give an immediate answer. Instead, he raised his tobacco pipe and pointed toward a distant mountain peak, giving Song He a rough explanation about the Black Mud Pond's efficacy in rain prayers. The crucian carp, loaches, and other aquatic creatures in the mountain-top pond all had a faint golden line along their spines. Then Chen Ping'an pointed with his pipe at the mountain behind them, saying that place was the highest. The locals called it the Roaring Heavenly Dragon, a name passed down through generations.
Song He, however, was a meticulous person. When it came to strange tales and legends, as the sovereign of the Great Li dynasty, he had heard plenty and seen no less. He asked, "Is it really a case of those flood dragons demoted from the Dragon Courts of old, taking a rest at the Black Mud Pond, forced to imprison themselves there, moving clouds and dispensing rain for years to atone for their sins?"
Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "These are just stories handed down through the generations here. True or false, it's hard to say what the facts really are. If I'd known you would ask, I would have pressed Lu Chen for the details earlier and asked him to deduce it."
Song He steadied his emotions and asked softly, "The Headmaster Lu has been here?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "He just left. You could say that the Headmaster Lu left by the front door while you entered by the back."
Song He suddenly understood. The disappearance of Zhu Lu, the assistant officer of the Weaving Bureau in their entourage, was most likely connected to this Headmaster Lu of the White Jade Capital.
Song He asked curiously, "Did Mr. Chen persuade the boy to release that fish? Is it some kind of rule for cultivation on the mountains?"
Chen Ping'an smiled and explained, "This isn't really related to mountain cultivation. It's an old saying from my hometown, which does have a bit of a taboo. 'Living off the mountain, you rely on the mountain. Living off the water, you rely on the water.' You can't help but believe in it. And if you don't believe in this, what else can you believe? Many things, once you leave home, you discover the principles are more or less the same. For example, back home and here, if someone goes up the mountain along the stream to catch rock frogs, the first one they catch, they break off one of its legs and release it. They're not allowed to bring it home."
Song He said, "A kind of way to pay respect to the mountain spirit?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "Exactly. If later on the mountain you come across a three-legged rock frog, no matter whether you've been catching for half an hour or an hour, you have to turn around and go home. And today, with that boy, if he caught a big fish that looked strange, unusual, or even a bit frightening at first glance, you have to look at the fish's face. If it has a bitter expression, you can kill and eat it, no problem. But if it looks like it's smiling, it's best to let it go."
Song He was silent for a moment, then sighed for no particular reason, "In the end, whether you rely on the mountain or the water, you're relying on heaven to feed you."
Chen Ping'an remained silent, puffing on his tobacco pipe.
The local dialect of his hometown and the local dialect here also had a mysterious, inexplicable connection. Whenever they talked about the weather and seasons—whether scorching heat or bitter cold—the villagers would habitually say a phrase, using three words to either begin or end it: "This heaven."
The tone wasn't exactly complaining, at most helpless. They'd look up at the sky and sigh.
Farmers with their backs to the sky and faces to the fields, when they encountered good weather and a good harvest year, would naturally say that heaven had been kind.
Song He was clearly bothered by the thick smoke here, but he just kept enduring it.
Chen Ping'an put away his tobacco pipe, said goodbye to the old men, and took Song He for a walk outside the village.
Song He asked, "What was Mr. Chen talking about with that robust young man earlier?"
Chen Ping'an said, "That person is a very good man. He's the father of one of the children in the village school. His family is quite poor. He's a mason, with old above and young below. He's willing to do any work that earns money—carrying trees, making charcoal, raising silkworms, picking tea—he does everything. His tolerance for alcohol isn't great, but he really loves to drink. And his behavior when drunk is a bit off. I was just advising him to restrain himself a bit at the table, not to drink so fiercely. As soon as he sits down, he downs a few cups, and no one can stop him. Once he's drunk, he goes wild and says anything."
"I joked with him, saying 'It's not you drinking the wine; it's the wine drinking you.' Luckily, he didn't get angry."
"I also advised him not to always talk about other people's faults and shortcomings at the dinner table. In a village, everyone is neighborly. You see each other every day. Even the whispers inside the bedcovers might be overheard through the walls. So how much more so the talk at the dinner table? There's no need to offend others with a few drunken words and hold a grudge for nothing. Over time, don't even mention the current generation—the next generation will suffer for it too."
Hearing this, Song He found it very interesting and asked with a smile, "Did he find it reasonable?"
Chen Ping'an said, "He probably took it in for the moment. I just don't know if he'll remember it the next time he's at the table."
Setting everything else aside, when it came to drinking, even Chen Ping'an himself really ought to learn from Jing Qing. At the table, he thought everyone was remarkable, every single one of them was the greatest hero in the world.
The key was sincerity.
Because what Chen Lingjun said when drunk was exactly what was on his mind.
Song He spoke a string of his own reasoning: "As the saying goes, 'The anger bred in the chamber is vented in the street.' Knowledge comes through the ears, knowing sounds; through the eyes, knowing shapes. But knowledge must await the proper functioning of the senses to classify things. Names have no fixed appropriateness; they are agreed upon and commanded. What is agreed upon and customary is called appropriate; what differs from the agreement is called inappropriate."
Chen Ping'an smiled and nodded.
Song He was praising his own teacher in a roundabout way.
Song He showed a hint of nostalgia, looking straight ahead, and said softly, "Back then, my teacher once told me that there was a very talented monk of the Vinaya school. Before he became a monk, he had two excellent sayings. He said that those with abundant virtue have a peaceful heart. They can see both the strengths and weaknesses of others and still find something to learn, so they praise many. Those with meager virtue have a harsh and proud heart. They find both the good and bad deeds of others detestable, so they despise many. My teacher concluded that the former can make the path under their feet wider and wider, while the latter will only make it narrower and narrower."
"Probably when a person reaches such a state, they can see sages all over the streets, and not a single person in the world is a bad person."
Chen Ping'an held the tobacco pipe, brought it around behind him, and lightly tapped his back. He nodded and said with a smile, "Your Majesty's reasoning is still more learned and refined."
Song He said, "These are all my teacher's teachings."
Chen Ping'an said, "Since you've taken them to heart, they've become your reasoning."
Song He, probably feeling that the atmosphere and timing of tonight's walk were right, began to speak frankly, sharing his inner thoughts. "Cultured gentlemen all like to say that mountains, rivers, wind, and moon have no permanent master. Only the idle one is the master. To be honest, on this trip south, my original intention was to stop at the Logging Institute in Yuzhang Commandery of Hongzhou. The reason I changed course to come here was a moment of impulse. I was afraid that Mr. Chen would be too disappointed in our Great Li dynasty. If I may speak frankly without fear of ridicule, I didn't even dare to remind Yu's Pei Tong or Chu's Wu Yuan—these grand officials who seem to be governing right under Mr. Chen's nose. I was afraid of causing complications, of gilding the lily. Once seen through, I worried it would only invite more ridicule. On the road here, I saw a plum tree by the bridge at the riverside. I stopped the carriage and stared for a while. I was both afraid that Mr. Chen's current state of mind would be 'If the lord is displeased, what can the emperor's power do?' But then I thought, if it were truly 'A single plum branch by an ancient stream, remote in the deep mountains, naturally elegant, waiting for the bright moon to seek me out'... that would be fine. Even if I met with a closed door at Mr. Chen's place, I would still be able to say I had a clear conscience."
Chen Ping'an didn't show the slightest sign of agreement. Instead, he pushed further, teasing half-seriously, "Oh? A clear conscience already?"
Song He was momentarily speechless.
He felt that he himself was even less worthy of Mr. Chen's patience and measured words than that village rustic with his poor drinking habits.
Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "An inch of time is an inch of gold—such a good principle. Who is it meant for? Probably, it's already good enough if a scholar can take it to heart, isn't it?"
Song He had the illusion of returning to his youth, walking through the markets and alleys of the capital with his teacher, who was serving as the State Preceptor. Whatever people or events they encountered, the teacher would explain their principles.
Earlier at the dinner table here, Chen Ping'an had heard a saying.
"Living in this world, there's no sense to it."
When the old man said this, he wasn't drunk, nor was he complaining. His tone was calm, his expression peaceful.
Song He said apologetically, "I have soft ears. Please don't take offense, Mr. Chen."
Song He was still worried that his wife had acted on her own, that the matter of the string of Lingxi beads might have displeased Chen Ping'an.
Furthermore, their decision to stay here was also Empress Song Mian's opinion. But things like this, Song He didn't mention in front of Chen Ping'an.
Chen Ping'an turned to look at Song He.
It wasn't polite talk; it was from the heart.
Ah, yes. He figured that all the intelligence from the Sword Qi Great Wall was handled personally by Senior Brother Cui Chan, without anyone else's involvement.
If His Majesty the Emperor knew even a little bit about what had happened at the Sword Qi Great Wall, he wouldn't be saying this tonight.
Ha, back then on the entire Sword Qi Great Wall, never mind the reputations of the Hidden Official of the Summer Resort Palace and the Second Shopkeeper of the Wine Shop—if you only talked about him and Ning Yao, one was a family man, the other was understanding and considerate. Which one of them wasn't given a thumbs-up? Henpecked? No such thing!
He remembered one time when he was eating hotpot with Senior Song and drinking chili with wine. The youth's face was flushed bright red.
Song had said that when a man gained power, influence, and wealth, it was inevitable that all kinds of women would like or admire him. But if he could still keep himself under control, that was true ability.
Over time, let them understand one principle: I am the man you can never have. That's what it means to be a good man.
Think back to when I was young, roaming the world. There was never a shortage of beauties around me. But I relied on a body of righteousness to disperse the air of powder and paint.
"Marry a virtuous wife."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Your Majesty is blessed."
If it weren't for a certain detail that made Chen Ping'an change his mind at the last minute, he wouldn't have cared whether it was His Majesty the Emperor, the Prefect, or the General. After tea, they could be shown the door.
He definitely wouldn't have kept Song He and his group for that meal.
And if it weren't for Empress Yu Mian offering him the bracelet, would he have let the Empress Dowager Nan Zan come to the school to try her luck? To see if Chen Ping'an would have Xiao Mo remove the sword technique restrictions?
Chen Ping'an had even deliberately left a green bamboo chopstick in the palace for that woman to use as a hairpin.
Chen Ping'an said with a faint smile, "A man, once he has a family and a life to live, must never make his wife's life difficult."
"All mother-in-law and daughter-in-law conflicts, if they ever reach an irreconcilable point, when it comes down to it, it's definitely still the man who's unreliable, has no opinions, and only stirs trouble. That's how he ends up pleasing neither side."
Song He felt that this was very reasonable, but he did feel a bit guilty hearing it.
Chen Ping'an asked, "Is Vice Minister Zhao still in the village?"
Song He shook his head. "He's already left the Yu territory. He has to handle an urgent matter. He might have to take half of the Earth Branch cultivators with him. They'll travel separately and rendezvous at the auxiliary capital, Luojing."
Chen Ping'an hesitated for a moment, then asked, "What kind of official business requires a Vice Minister of the Ministry of Justice to mobilize the Earth Branch cultivators?"
Song He didn't conceal anything. "An old man who is a key figure in overseeing the Great Li Sword Boats and Mountain Ferry Boats. This old gentleman doesn't even hold a post in the Ministry of Works. Rarely getting a break, he took a few disciples and students south for a change of scenery. In an old vassal state south of the Great River, he ran into a dispute that involved the local court and two mountain immortal mansions."
Chen Ping'an asked, "Because the argument isn't particularly solid? With some suspicion of meddling?"
Song He nodded. "If it weren't for that, on Treasure Vase Continent, north of Old Dragon City, no one would dare to stir up trouble with the Great Li dynasty. Besides, this old gentleman has a stubborn temper. When he encountered trouble, he didn't want to notify the Ministry of Justice in the capital or the auxiliary capital Luojing at all. So he's been at a standoff with them over there."
Chen Ping'an asked again, "A figure this important—didn't the Ministry of Justice issue him a Peace and Tranquility Token?"
Song He explained, "I tried my best to persuade him, but the old man would only accept a lowest-grade Peace and Tranquility Token. Because he was worried about getting the people around him involved, he reluctantly showed the token."
Chen Ping'an twitched the corner of his mouth. "So the other party, upon seeing a lowest-grade Peace and Tranquility Token, got even more energetic, I suppose? Probably thinking it was a chance to 'strike the mountain to frighten the tiger'?"
Song He nodded. "Everything is exactly as Mr. Chen predicted."
Chen Ping'an narrowed his eyes.
To put it bluntly, the current Great Li dynasty, without the Embroidery Tiger Cui Chan, has lost its backbone.
This is actually a widely recognized fact on and off the mountains, and the Great Li dynasty has tacitly accepted it.
Take the recent case of the Great Li's old southern vassal states. After their restoration, why did they actively release news that they were going to destroy the summit stone steles of the immortal mansions within their territories?
It was actually a test of the Great Li Song clan.
As long as Cui Chan was still around, the entire Treasure Vase Continent, whether north or south, as Emperor Song He had said, from the southernmost tip of the continent north of Old Dragon City—who would dare to say anything?
Seeing Mr. Chen beside him lost in thought, Song He smiled and said, "Mr. Chen can rest assured. Since Zhao Yao has gone, he will definitely be able to handle it."
Chen Ping'an spoke up. "Among the qi refiners currently staying as guests on Luopo Mountain, there is a Jade Pure realm swordsman named Bai Deng. He just came out of the nearby Dragon Palace Ruins. You could consider him half a native cultivator of the Great Li. There's also a ghostly being with the Dao name Silver Deer. He was once the vice city lord of the Immortal Hairpin City in the Barren Wastes. This fellow's realm is gone, but his wits are still sharp. He can cooperate with the naturally impatient Bai Deng. Additionally, Jing Hao from Green Palace Mountain of Flowing Sunset Continent has a Jade Pure realm disciple with him named Gao Geng. I can ask the three of them to go together. Let Silver Deer acknowledge the old gentleman as a family elder of sorts. Zhao Yao and the others won't even need to show themselves. They can settle this dispute, which could be big or small. If the other side wants to make a fuss, let Silver Deer make it even bigger. Then let Fellow Daoist Gao Geng reveal his identity, saying he's from Green Palace Mountain of Flowing Sunset Continent and is also the old gentleman's family guest elder."
One way was to handle things through official channels, like Vice Minister Zhao Yao.
Another way was to settle it privately—let Silver Deer, who is idle and wandering on the mountains every day anyway, trace his roots back to the family.
Song He was dumbfounded.
This is doable?
Chen Ping'an seemed to have moved on from the matter. He had already changed the subject, pointing to a mountain ridge ahead and saying with a smile, "What a coincidence. That place is called Farewell Ridge."
Song He calmed his emotions, followed the direction of Chen Ping'an's finger, looked at the distant mountain, and smiled. "Back then, every time I talked with my teacher and sought his guidance on my studies, it would often start with me being completely confused. After he explained, I'd suddenly see the light. Then he'd throw out another question out of the blue, and I'd be confused on top of confusion."
Chen Ping'an joked, "Comparing me to Senior Brother Cui is like insulting both of us at the same time."
Song He tentatively asked, "Mr. Chen, so are we agreed?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "But I need to go on a traveling journey first. I might have to go to many places, several continents I've never set foot on. I need to take a look around. After I return, I'll go to the Great Li capital. This journey will take at least four or five years, at least two or three."
Song He's face lit up. He couldn't help himself and grabbed Chen Ping'an's arm. "It's settled, then."
Chen Ping'an patted the Emperor's arm and said with a smile, "Your Majesty, there's no need. The monk may run, but the temple stays. My Luopo Mountain doesn't have legs."
Song He turned back to look in the direction of the school, seeming to have something to say but holding back.
Chen Ping'an explained with a smile, "'It takes ten years to grow a tree, but a hundred years to nurture a man.' Teaching and educating people must show results over a long period. When I go on my travels, I will leave a talisman clone at the village school. The matter of opening the school and teaching will definitely not be abandoned halfway."
Song He stopped walking, straightened his collar, stood sideways, and bowed to Chen Ping'an in thanks.
Chen Ping'an had no choice but to stand facing him and return the bow with cupped hands.
Tonight was another round of heavy drinking.
Everyone had drunk their fill, eaten their fill, and gone back to their own homes. Chen Lingjun and his good brother Chen Zhuoliu went out for a walk together. They had agreed on the time for tomorrow morning's drinking session. 'See you then; don't leave if not drunk; don't go home if not drunk.'
What else could those tasked with accompanying Immortal Chen in his drinking do but agree?
Chen Lingjun hadn't drunk and bragged so freely in a long time.
Luopo Mountain had become like a temporary little mountain. Chen Lingjun was the host, responsible for entertaining the guests. Besides his close friend Chen Zhuoliu, there were also several new friends he had just made.
The old immortal Jing Hao, the swordsman Bai Deng, the ghost Silver Deer, and Jing Hao's direct disciple, a Jade Pure realm cultivator named Gao Geng. He had come up the mountain relatively late and was a quiet sort, not talkative at or away from the table.
Fortunately, there were plenty of empty residences on Jise Peak. This was all thanks to the generous spending of Chief Zhou, who didn't consider immortal money as money. But it wasn't just Chief Zhou's money-throwing that did it; they also had to add Old Cook, who was extremely good at spending money. The construction of buildings on the mountain was all Old Cook's work. The various residences each had their own unique features and were very presentable for hosting mountain cultivators. They definitely wouldn't lose face.
Every time after drinking, Chen Lingjun and Chen Zhuoliu would often take a walk all the way to the Jiling Peak Ancestral Hall and then turn back. The two of them were tight. When they were happy chatting, they'd sneak a couple of flasks on the road.
Anyway, he genuinely hit it off with those new friends and could talk easily. But Chen Lingjun and Chen Zhuoliu were friends who had been through thick and thin together—brothers who had faced death, truly kindred spirits.
Walking on the mountain path, Chen Lingjun rubbed his hands together, looking a bit embarrassed.
Chen Qingliu had his hands behind his back and said with a smile, "Something to discuss? Can't bring yourself to say it?"
Chen Lingjun said, "Lord of my manor happened to mention something to me. It seems that Mountain Lord Wei greatly admires Mr. Xin. He wanted to ask for two pieces of calligraphy. You know, 'good fortune comes in pairs.'"
Actually, until now, since Chen Qingliu hadn't brought it up and Chen Ping'an hadn't mentioned it, Chen Lingjun still didn't know the origins of this Mr. Xin. He also didn't bother asking about it. As long as he recognized Chen Zhuoliu as a friend, it was fine. Asking about this and that was pointless. Did he need to know that the other party lived on some big mountain to be more attentive during toasts? Treat someone with no background a little worse? There was no such ridiculous reasoning when fate brought people together at the same table.
Chen Qingliu glanced at the boy in blue and said with a smile, "A hundred Jing Qings combined wouldn't have half the scheming of Chen Ping'an. What 'good fortune comes in pairs'? He clearly intends to ask for two pieces and then secretly keep one for himself. Afterwards, Wei Po will be weeping tears of gratitude to Chen Ping'an."
If he remembered correctly, Chen Ping'an had already tricked one piece of calligraphy out of Zhu Lian. 'Good fortune comes in pairs'—well, he wasn't wrong about that.
"Don't talk nonsense. Asking for the calligraphy was my own idea. It has nothing to do with the Lord. He just casually mentioned it, and I remembered it."
Chen Lingjun complained, "Besides, even if that's the case, what's the big deal? Old brother, don't dawdle. Just tell me whether you can help with this favor or not. If it's a problem, forget I said anything. It's no big deal. You're the one with all the nonsense."
When dealing with people, you have to put yourself in their shoes. I treat all your friends as my own friends; how can you badmouth my Lord behind his back?
All these years on Luopo Mountain, Chen Lingjun felt he hadn't made any contribution, and it bothered him.
Besides, Wei Po might be stingy with him and truly tight-fisted, but this Mountain Lord had a genuinely good relationship with the Lord. Just taking the matter of Niujiao Ferry—that was the Piyun Mountain connecting the Great Li Song clan, which allowed his own Luopo Mountain to get a share. Chen Lingjun felt he had to take this gratitude to heart and remember it. He couldn't afford to brush it off. Whenever he thought of the Northern Sacred Mountain Piyun, he'd think of the Night Tour Banquet, and he'd think of that world-famous nickname, Wei Night Tour. Chen Lingjun couldn't help but chuckle.
Chen Qingliu nodded. "It's not a big deal."
If someone else went to ask for calligraphy, it would depend on whether Xin Ji'an would even bother. But if he himself asked, it was a different story. Even a basketful wouldn't be difficult, and it wouldn't be that kind of perfunctory, social-response stuff. Every single character had to be full of vitality and spirit.
Chen Lingjun wasn't polite either. "Then it's on you. Agreed? This isn't a boast on the dinner table. Don't stand me up. If I end up getting scolded, I won't hold back when I start cursing people."
Chen Qingliu asked with a smile, "Since you've already asked for a favor, why not ask for a few more pieces?"
Chen Lingjun tilted his head and asked, "Really? No trouble?"
Chen Qingliu nodded.
Chen Lingjun rubbed his chin and shook his head. "Better not. Two pieces of calligraphy are more than enough. Asking for more would be a bit improper. Old Cook was right. When asking a calligrapher for works, it's best to ask for few but choice, not many."
Chen Qingliu said with a faint smile, "Zhu Lian is an extremely rare and interesting person."
Chen Lingjun burst out laughing. "Old Cook's learning might be broad, but he's still a bachelor."
Chen Lingjun took two flasks of wine from his sleeve and handed one to Chen Qingliu. He naturally didn't know how rare it was for the extremely proud and aloof Chen Qingliu to give such an evaluation.
Chen Qingliu took the flask, removed the clay seal, shook it a few times as the aroma of wine filled the air. Looking at the moonlit mountain scenery, he sincerely exclaimed, "The moonlight on this mountain is enchanting, the most capable of holding one's heart."
Chen Lingjun took a swig. "Sometimes, I feel you talk a lot like Brother Jia. You can always come up with a few good phrases, like 'Two worlds within and beyond the cup,' or 'You can't argue your way to first place away from the table, but once at the table, shouldn't you fight for it?'"
Chen Qingliu smiled and said, "You often mention this Jia Sheng. I'll have to meet him sometime."
Chen Lingjun said, "Small matter. If someday the few of us brothers can all be together, drinking at the same table, that would be truly satisfying."
A drinking table with himself, the old Daoist Jia Sheng, the coachman Bai Mang, and the scholar Chen Zhuoliu.
Chen Qingliu said, "There might be a friend of Xin Ji'an coming to Treasure Vase Continent soon. If Xin Ji'an is still on Luopo Mountain at the time, this other person might visit the mountain."
Chen Lingjun patted his chest. "No big deal. Leave it to me."
Chen Qingliu said with a sly smile, "He has a significant background and a very bad temper. You'd better take it easy."
Chen Lingjun walked with a swagger, chuckling. On his own Luopo Mountain, in this Northern Sacred Mountain territory, what strange and unusual people hadn't he seen over the years? When had he ever backed down?
Never mind mentioning those three; since he couldn't talk about them anyway, let's just say Lu Chen, the Headmaster of the White Jade Capital. So what if he was a disciple of the Dao Ancestor? He had met him several times already. Hadn't he always maintained an unwavering and dignified bearing, neither humble nor arrogant? His background was big enough, wasn't it?
Chen Qingliu let it go with a laugh. As for the seniority of Xin Ji'an's good friend, it was the same as Lu Chen's on the mountains. This person was a proud disciple of the Supreme Sage. You could add the suffix "one of," or you could leave it off.
Bai Deng, who had only come out of the Dragon Palace Ruins a few days ago, had gotten to know the ghost with the Dao name Silver Deer, the Vice City Lord of Immortal Hairpin City. They were both in the same boat—unable to speak of their bitterness. They truly didn't dare to say anything. They felt that every day, aside from drinking, they were just preparing for the next round.
Bai Deng had originally wanted to learn more about the current customs of the Righteousness Continent, especially Treasure Vase Continent, through this drinking companion. But every time he asked, he drew a blank. Silver Deer had the same thoughts and feelings.
Bai Deng and Silver Deer weren't particularly close. It was just that on the mountain, they had to find someone to chat with to relieve the boredom; otherwise, it was too suffocating.
Jing Hao and his direct disciple Gao Geng lived in one of the residences. Tonight, they were both under the eaves, sitting idly in the moonlight. Gao Geng cautiously asked his master, "Master, are we just going to waste time like this?"
Always accompanying this Immortal Chen for drinks—that didn't seem right either.
Green Palace Mountain wasn't some minor sect. They had a mountain of affairs. Many of the schedules set at the end-of-year meeting of the Council Hall were already packed to the brim.
His master could still chat a bit at the table here. But poor Gao Geng, who was considered a major figure on the mountains of Flowing Sunset Continent, had to be the last seat at every meal. He had to carefully weigh not just every sentence, but every single word. Now, Gao Geng felt that after he went down the mountain and returned home, he probably wouldn't want to drink for several years.
There were too many strange people and bizarre events here.
The gatekeeper at the foot of the mountain was a false Daoist who liked reading improper banned books. That fellow who often carried a shoulder pole with wine to the residences seemed to be a pure martial artist with a very impressive martial arts realm. He was apparently a native of Bead Abyss Cave Heaven and was Luopo Mountain's former gatekeeper.
There was a female martial artist surnamed Cen who practiced her boxing and moved through her stance every day on the mountain path. Even if she saw the young Hidden Official, she never greeted him.
Every day, a little river spirit made two patrols of the mountain, morning and evening. And this little spirit was actually Luopo Mountain's Right Protector, a mountain-guarding offering of the upper sect.
And that young man in a yellow hat and green shoes, with a gentle smile, often accompanied a little girl in black. His master said that this affable Mr. Xiao Mo was definitely a Flying Ascension realm sword immortal—no doubt about it.
There was also a young female swordsman who wore a green inkstone on her waist. She was said to be a direct disciple of the young Hidden Official. Flanking her on left and right were two "hanger-on henchmen"—one was a "sable-hatted young woman" who made even his master wary, and the other was a white-haired child who, whenever he encountered Gao Geng on the path, would deliberately cackle eerily.
For a sect like this, Gao Geng simply couldn't understand it, and it was even harder for him to adapt to the customs here.
Jing Hao and this unaccomplished direct disciple sat on bamboo chairs said to have been woven by Zhu Lian, Luopo Mountain's chief steward.
Hearing this nonsense from his disciple, Jing Hao, who had been in a passable mood, immediately became gloomy. Sensing the change in his master's aura, Gao Geng immediately shut up.
Did Jing Hao want to waste time here? Not at all. He had long since decided to keep his distance from this Immortal Chen, who had shown his Green Palace Mountain "leniency." He never expected to be drinking at least two rounds a day on this Luopo Mountain. At first, every time he toasted with those two "old brothers" who were both surnamed Chen, he would have lowered his wine bowl so far it was practically under the table. This must have confused the boy in blue, and it caught the eye of Immortal Chen, who warned him using his heart voice: "Why don't you just lie on the ground and toast?"
After a long silence, Jing Hao said, "When Immortal Chen goes down the mountain, then you can follow me to bid farewell to the Hidden Official Chen."
Gao Geng nodded. There was something he just had to say, no matter what. He communicated with his heart voice: "Master, this Fellow Daoist Jing Qing is truly bold. He's a real hero."
He had roughly calculated that the boy in blue, an infant-transformation realm water flood dragon, had patted Immortal Chen on the shoulder no fewer than thirty times, curved his fingers, breathed on them, and truly dared to flick Immortal Chen right on the forehead.
Jing Hao's expression was complex. "Everyone has their own fate. It's not something to be envied."
The boy in blue parted ways with his brother after returning from Jiling Peak to Jise Peak. He vigorously shook his sleeves, hiccupped from the wine, and passed a place where he saw the courtyard gate was open. Old Cook was lying on a rattan chair, gently waving his palm-leaf fan, all alone. He looked kind of pitiful.
Chen Lingjun swayed over to Zhu Lian, plopped himself down on the bamboo chair beside him, and shook his shoulders, scooting the chair and himself over to Zhu Lian. He deliberately opened his mouth wide and breathed wine fumes at Old Cook. "Old Cook, what's up? Long night, can't sleep? Ha, thinking about girls?"
Zhu Lian lay still, just using his fan to disperse the wine fumes. "Went for a walk with Chen Zhuoliu again?"
Chen Lingjun was still absorbed in pouring out his heart. "Old Cook, I'm not criticizing you, but there are some things that, as men, once we reach a certain age, we really have to accept. With a little sprucing up, Brother Dafeng might still be able to trick a wife into coming home. As for looks, well, you can't be too picky. Brother Dafeng has one good point—he always says any woman will do. No requirements. It's all about chemistry. If she looks decent at first sight, fine. Turn off the lights, roll up the blanket, and the bed does the walking."
Zhu Lian gently waved his fan, smiling. "Is there anything more demanding than 'no requirements'? Brother Dafeng has high standards."
They were both fond of drinking. Generally, they'd look at the world through drunken, hazy eyes. Zheng Dafeng saw the world with a cold eye but a warm heart. Some people were purely addicted to the cup. In the human world, there were immortals of wine and ghosts of wine.
As for Chen Lingjun, he was probably a third kind.
But don't try to reason with this Lord Chen. It wasn't that it went in one ear and out the other; it just didn't register in the brain at all.
Zhu Lian asked, "Had your fill of drinking these past few days?"
Chen Lingjun shook his head. "What does 'had your fill' mean? Drink too much, throw up. After throwing up, drink again. Happy."
Earlier, reuniting with his old friend Chen Zhuoliu after a long separation, both of them were straightforward. Chen Zhuoliu didn't hold anything back. He said that on this cross-continent journey, he was just sightseeing and hadn't encountered any difficulties. But the travel expenses... well, they were a bit short.
When Chen Lingjun heard it was just such a trivial matter, he breathed a sigh of relief and was happy for his good brother. As Old Cook said, if there were no troubles today, that was a good thing.
At the same time, he felt a small regret. He had eighteen kinds of martial arts skills, but unfortunately, the hero had no place to use them. If there had really been trouble, he would have wanted to help his good brother vent his anger.
That simple girl, Nuan Shu, had done well these past few days. Delivering tea and water, cooking dishes to go with the wine, bringing fruits and vegetables... everything was in order. No slacking.
After a while, she had gotten to know Chen Lingjun's new friends. Earlier, Chen Zhuoliu had asked her, "I heard from your mountain lord that you haven't formed your golden core yet. Is there some difficulty?"
Chen Nuan Shu just shook her head with a smile.
After the girl in the pink dress left the residence, Chen Qingliu asked the boy in blue again, "She's not in a hurry. Aren't you?"
Chen Lingjun laughed heartily. Hahaha. Ha.
The boy in blue laughed and then fell silent, scratching his head.
Chen Qingliu said with a sly smile, "Little girl was originally a fire python of literary fortune. It's not easy for her to successfully transform into a dragon."
Chen Lingjun found it a bit strange at the time. His Lord had even told his own brother about something like this.
After thinking it over, Chen Lingjun finally came up with an answer. Probably, his Lord had deliberately given him face in front of his friend. Plus, since both of them were scholars, Chen Zhuoliu felt an immediate kinship with him, and they were exceptionally unguarded with each other.
If his Lord had been present, wouldn't he have had to mention three things first?
Chen Zhuoliu finally asked Chen Lingjun if, in the future when Chen Nuan Shu tried to transform into a dragon, he would need his help to protect the little girl on her path.
As for the reason, it was very Chen Zhuoliu-ish: "After all, we're both named Chen. It's fate. Besides, I can't have eaten and drunk for free these past few days."
Chen Lingjun was instantly amused. He was standing on the bench, laughing with his hands on his stomach. Laughing so hard his stomach ached, he collapsed onto the table, knocking on the tabletop with one hand and pointing at that good buddy with the other. "Just you?"
Then Chen Lingjun started toasting Old Immortal Jing and Sword Immortal Bai one after another, completely ignoring Chen Qingliu.
But he didn't know that the people he was toasting were all terrified. Their smiles were awkward. They carefully assessed Immortal Chen's expression. One of them felt like he might meet his ancestors at any moment, his teeth chattering, not daring to look at that Dragon-Slayer. These two miserable drinking buddies truly had unspeakable grievances. "Fellow Daoist Jing Qing, we're friends now, so why are you setting us up?"
"Brother Jing Qing, is there anyone you're afraid of? Do you need your brother... to help? This, hmm?"
As he spoke, Chen Qingliu raised his palm and made a chopping motion.
Chen Lingjun loved this about Chen Zhuoliu. Once he got to the table, he forgot who he was, just like himself.
If he really thought about it, on his Lord's home turf, who wasn't afraid? Over the years, how many times had Chen Lingjun suffered because of his "frank speech"? He'd lost count!
Every drink now was about remembering the bitter and savoring the sweet.
Chen Qingliu's smile was playful. "So, just say a name. A Dao name will do. Who are you most afraid of?"
Chen Lingjun instinctively looked toward Jing Hao, a Flying Ascension realm grand cultivator. Of course, he wasn't afraid of his drinking buddy Jing Hao. He was afraid of these old immortals who were full and had nothing better to do than pretend to be "passersby."
He remembered back then in the small town's blacksmith shop. The last seated sage, Blacksmith Ruan, looked just like a farmer. So Chen Lingjun, being outspoken, had caused a misunderstanding.
Jing Hao was startled.
Fellow Daoist Jing Qing, the hell are you staring at me for?!
Chen Lingjun had a look of embarrassment on his face. But then he thought of a certain someone, the one he was most afraid of.
Chen Lingjun shuddered and quickly drank some wine to calm down.
Afraid? How could he not be?
After his own transformation, especially after hearing that the other party had showed up during that Middle Earth Confucian Temple meeting, Chen Lingjun had been a nervous wreck. Now, he was constantly worried about one thing.
With his mediocre cultivation aptitude and diligent work ethic, he might just accidentally turn into a true dragon one day. Then wouldn't that Dragon-Slayer come looking for him?
But mentioning such matters was a bit embarrassing. He had thin skin and was too shy to even discuss it with his Lord.
No matter how experienced in the ways of the world, no matter how clever in dealing with people, he still couldn't withstand the accumulated authority of the Dragon-Slaying Campaign three thousand years ago.
Hence, the first page of Chen Lingjun's meticulously compiled "Collection of Passersby" was left blank.
He didn't even dare to write that person's name.
Later, he simply used paste to glue that page to the cover.
As if, by doing so, he could avoid ever crossing paths with that legendary Dragon-Slayer.
Back then at the table, the boy in blue had turned around and lectured the poor scholar Chen Zhuoliu. He said that just because he had learned some mountain immortal techniques, he shouldn't be shouting about killing and fighting all the time. That wasn't how the world worked. When they went out, they had to be kind to others, to always leave some leeway so they could meet again in the future. Didn't he know that?
Chen Lingjun was immensely proud of himself. "Old Cook, I've talked it over with my good brother. Later, he'll ask Mr. Xin to write two pieces of calligraphy for us. I'll keep one piece and give it to you. That way, I won't waste your favor. The other piece, let the Lord give to Wei Po. Hmph, I'll tell the Lord beforehand not to take credit for it. Wei Po is sentimental and cares about face. If he knew it was me who helped, he'd probably grumble to himself. Even if he got a treasure, he wouldn't be all that happy."
Zhu Lian smiled. "You're doing good deeds without wanting recognition."
Chen Lingjun crossed his arms, his expression buoyant. "Learned it from the Lord."
Zhu Lian said, "If Wei Po receives this gift, even if he knows it was your doing, he'll still be overjoyed."
Chen Lingjun was too busy being happy to catch the implication in Zhu Lian's words.
Zhu Lian knew that the people Wei Po admired in his life could be counted on one hand. Besides the swordsman A Liang, who was from the Yasheng Mansion, there was Mr. Xin, the "Dragon Among Lyricists," who was currently away from the mountains on a journey. And then there was a certain proud disciple of the Supreme Sage, whom the Sage himself had described as "more courageous than me." As one of the earliest ancient "scholars" to follow the Supreme Sage, this person had left a resounding declaration for posterity: "A gentleman would rather die than lose his hat."
Chen Lingjun lowered his voice. "Old Cook, when it comes to actual personal experience, you're useless. But when it comes to big principles, you've got them by the dozens. Tell me, that High Sect Leader of the Lake Mountain School, why isn't she leaving? What's going on? Don't tell me she's got her eye on my Lord? If that's the case, I'm not going to indulge her. Anything's fine to discuss, but not this. I can't have it be a muddle."
Zhu Lian said, "Don't overthink it. It has nothing to do with romance. It's just a person who is particularly eager to make money, suddenly finding themselves in a mountain of gold and silver. It's dazzling, and they want to take as much home as possible."
Chen Lingjun was puzzled. "What do you mean exactly? Say it more clearly."
Zhu Lian patiently explained. "Gao Jun is now the number one person under heaven in the Blessed Land. Although it's a case of 'the title fits but the reality doesn't,' within the Lotus Root Blessed Land, she is still the leading figure on the mountain. The further she goes, the higher her realm, the more prestige she gains. And since she has this sense of responsibility that 'those in office should attend to their duties,' she worries that her virtue might not match her position. So, coming here is like a frog seeing the ocean for the first time. Everything is a novelty. She wants to learn more rules so she can plan ahead when she returns. She wants to gather as much power from the mountain forces as possible, to unite the hearts of the qi refiners into a single rope, and ultimately, to secure more... freedom for the Blessed Land from Luopo Mountain. Her heart is in the right place."
If nothing unexpected happened, after Gao Jun returned to the Blessed Land, the young master would follow her to participate in a "summit" meeting to first establish the framework of rules for an entire world.
Xiao Mo would definitely follow. Xie Dog had been eager to go ever since she heard about this. Her reason was quite sufficient: "Don't I need to support the mountain lord?"
"It's understandable. High Sect Leader Gao really does have a lot on her mind."
Chen Lingjun hummed in acknowledgment and then asked, "What about that Zhong Qian? I heard he's the first Golden Body realm martial artist from our Lotus Root Blessed Land. If he's not looking for the mountain lord to get beaten up, isn't he going to discuss things with you, a fellow townsman?"
If the High Sect Leader of the Lake Mountain School of Song Lai Kingdom, Gao Jun, was the first Golden Elixir terrestrial immortal of the blessed land in the orthodox sense, secretly blessed by "Heaven's will," then Zhong Qian, the first Golden Elixir realm martial artist, was invisibly endowed with martial fortune. He and Gao Jun were both lucky ones favored by the heavens.
But when Zhong Qian arrived on Luopo Mountain, he was the complete opposite of Gao Jun. He rarely showed his face, and it was said he spent every day dipping green onions in sauce and drinking alone in sullen silence.
Zhu Lian shook his head. "He doesn't dare to come. Even if he did, he wouldn't dare to come again after that."
In the past, the four of them from the Lotus Root Blessed Land's painting scroll were all the number one person under heaven in their respective eras. Generally speaking, they were the kind of people who were outwardly polite but secretly looked down on the other three. Their relationships were just passing, yet there was an undercurrent of tension.
Generally, mountain qi refiners, if they were older and had a longer Dao age, might have an inherent advantage. For the younger generation behind them, it would be relatively harder to stand out and excel.
But Zhu Lian felt that for pure martial artists, each generation should surpass the previous one. That was the way it should be. In the martial path, there was no need to venerate the past and disparage the present.
Take the Righteousness Continent. At the pinnacle of the martial path, there was first Zhang Tiaoxia, then Pei Bei. Now, there was Cao Ci and their own mountain lord.
Chen Lingjun clicked his tongue in admiration. "Old Cook, you're amazing! You don't even need to drink to talk big like that."
Zhu Lian said, "To use Brother Dafeng's words, how is it that a man of such little ambition as Zhong Qian can't get along with Jing Qing to share a drink?"
Zheng Dafeng did feel that Zhong Qian's fist techniques lacked weight, and Zhu Lian also felt that Zhong Qian wasn't cruel enough to himself. His current martial arts achievements were nothing but sliding on a banana peel.
Chen Lingjun immediately didn't like this. "Old Cook, that's hurtful to say."
Zhu Lian asked, "Zheng Dafeng said it. Why blame me?"
Chen Lingjun grinned. "How do I know you're not setting him up, trying to stir up trouble between me and Brother Dafeng?"
Zhu Lian looked up and out of the yard.
Chen Ping'an, in his blue gown, waved at him, signaling for Old Cook not to get up.
Chen Lingjun hurriedly got up, ready to take credit.
Zhu Lian smiled and reminded him, "Don't go patting shoulders this time."
Chen Lingjun, jogging toward the courtyard gate, turned back and asked curiously, "What do you mean?"
Zhu Lian lay back down on the rattan chair, waving his fan lazily. "Never mind. Do whatever makes you happy."
Out of a hundred matters, Zhu Lian might be qualified to teach Chen Lingjun ninety-eight principles. But on the two matters of making friends and entertaining guests, there was no need to teach him, and he couldn't be taught anyway.
At the mountain gate.
The Daoist Xian Wei was awakened by Zheng Dafeng's thunderous snoring from next door. He couldn't get back to sleep, so he simply moved a chair under the mountain gate plaque and, by the moonlight, started reading a book.
Little Millet had gone to bed late tonight. With nothing to do, she went out for a stroll. Maybe if she wasn't paying attention, she would run into Pei Qian coming home.
Since she wasn't patrolling, the little girl in black didn't bring her golden carrying pole or green bamboo staff. She just carried her cloth shoulder bag, hopping and skipping down the mountain path. Suddenly, she spotted a figure at the foot of the mountain and imitated Cen Yunnanji's boxing and stance work. As she neared the mountain gate, she finished her routine, raised her hands, took a deep breath, and called out, "Daoist Xian Wei."
Xian Wei responded, and with lightning speed, he rolled up the book and tucked it into his sleeve, then pulled out a volume of sage writings from his other sleeve.
Xian Wei turned his head. Little Millet came running down the mountain. Xian Wei was about to get up and bring a bench from the table.
Little Millet crouched down beside him, frantically waving her hands. "No need. Crouching is fine."
She asked softly, "I hope I'm not disturbing your reading, Daoist Xian Wei?"
Xian Wei smiled and said, "Of course not."
Zhu Lian and Sword Immortal Mi, especially Old Cook, still didn't know one thing. Because of a certain "absolute" exchange between them in the early days about beautiful women on the streets and girls in embroidery towers, some time ago Little Millet had relayed it to her good mountain lord when he came home. That's how they ended up agreeing to meet in the capital of the Southern Garden Kingdom for a bout of "asking each other's fists."
You were both eloquent, weren't you? You dared to speak recklessly in front of Little Millet? Completely unafraid of corrupting my Little Millet, were you?
So, earlier at the Azure Lotus Sword Sect, Sword Immortal Mi always felt that the Hidden Official looked at him with a cold smile. Mi Yu was a bit confused at the time, not knowing where he had gone wrong again. But Sword Immortal Mi didn't bother to investigate deeply. After all, he hadn't done many things right. He might as well have the attitude of "a dead pig isn't afraid of boiling water." Whether in the Spring Banners Study's accounting office or the Summer Resort Palace, wasn't he the most idle? Even more excessive was being teased by the young sword immortals as "half the credit goes to Mi Yu." As for who started it—Dong Buye or Lin Junbi, or some fair comment from Gu Changlong—it didn't matter anymore.
Little Millet asked softly, "Daoist Xian Wei, can't sleep? Are you missing your hometown?"
"'The books say, 'Not forgetting one's hometown is benevolence. Not longing for one's homeland is open-mindedness.'"
Xian Wei rolled up the book he was merely pretending to read, thought for a moment, and said with a smile, "So, according to this principle, a wanderer missing home is only human nature. But when making a living away from home, one also needs to be a bit more open-minded."
Little Millet nodded, clapping silently. "That makes sense. Daoist Xian Wei's words have hit the spot for me. Ha, such a good principle. I'm going to close the door and get along with it. Can't let it sneak away."
Xian Wei let out an "eh" and tapped his palm with the book. "Little Millet's principle seems even better. I've learned something. I've learned something."
Seeing that Daoist Xian Wei was in a good mood, Little Millet rubbed her face and asked, "Daoist Xian Wei, can you play the erhu? It sounds so good. I always think about it. When there are lots of people during the day, I'm too embarrassed to ask."
Xian Wei smiled and nodded, immediately getting up. "Wait a moment. I'll go get the erhu."
Having an appreciative audience, why not?
On his own Luopo Mountain, who didn't like Little Millet?
In the years when he roamed the world alone, forced by circumstance, Xian Wei—the false Daoist whose real name was Year Scene—had learned quite a few skills. Playing gambling chess with people to earn money was just one of them.
He had learned the erhu very early on. But on Luopo Mountain, the Daoist Xian Wei hadn't thought about, and hadn't had the chance to, restart his old trade. It was only once, in Zhu Lian's courtyard, when he heard Old Cook play it while sitting on a bench, that Xian Wei was utterly captivated. He thought it was otherworldly. He humbly consulted Zhu Lian a few times, and Zhu Lian gave him that erhu. In fact, the multi-talented Old Cook was astonishingly skilled not only with the erhu but also with the pipa, which was usually played by women. Unfortunately, it was said that Zhu Lian had his own rules. Often, only when Little Millet and Chen Nuan Shu were present, without any outsiders, and the two girls said they wanted to hear it, would he bother with these "trifling skills" he considered beneath mention.
Xian Wei always felt that if the young Master Zhu had been a bit better-looking, not even handsome, just decent, he would probably have had countless confidantes.
He had once overheard a conversation. Fellow Daoist Jing Qing asked Zhu Lian, "Old Cook, is there anything you can't do?"
Actually, this was a question many on Luopo Mountain had wanted to ask for a long time.
Zhu Lian had laughed and cursed, "Bullshit, of course there is."
Chen Lingjun didn't believe it. "Like?"
The old gentleman had smiled. "Giving birth."
In the moonlit night, the Daoist Xian Wei hurried back to his room to get the erhu. He sat on the bamboo chair, coughed a few times to clear his throat, and humbly tuned the strings a few times.
The Daoist plucked the strings and sang faintly. The mountain grew quieter with the Daoist's song.
When Xian Wei closed his eyes, slightly tilted his head, and with a smile sang that line in a style said to be an old male opera voice, "I had wished to set my heart solely upon the bright moon, but alas, the bright moon only shines upon the ditch."
Even though Little Millet had heard it several times before, she still felt that at this moment, Daoist Xian Wei's singing was... beautiful to look at.
Regarding this phrasing, Pei Qian had once teased Little Millet about it. Back then, only Old Cook had said that her way of putting it was quite learned.
On the mountain path, the boy in blue raised his arm and shouted, "Bravo!" Chen Ping'an directly gave him a rap on the head.
Xian Wei quickly stopped playing the erhu, looking embarrassed. Little Millet turned her head, raised her finger to her lips, signaling Jing Qing not to disturb Daoist Xian Wei.
Chen Ping'an only chatted for a while with Xian Wei at the gate. He glanced in the direction of the small town and quickly led Chen Lingjun back up the mountain.
On the mountain, Xiao Mo had already taken Xie Dog to the Sword Worship Platform.
Xiao Mo gave his reasons without any concealment. Although Xie Dog was reluctant, thinking about Alliance Lord Guo being there, she pinched her nose and went to the Sword Worship Platform.
While flying through the wind, she was still complaining about the mountain lord who was making a mountain out of a molehill. Didn't he know about her friendship recorded in some old almanac? She had a great relationship with two of the upcoming guests.
Xiao Mo, however, knew her inside out. He immediately exposed Xie Dog's lie, saying with a smile, "Great relationship? 'Great' is fine, but 'relationship'? Not really. That year when you full of murderous intent challenged those two scholars to a sword duel, how good could that relationship be?"
As long as Xiao Mo was with her, she wouldn't argue with Chen Ping'an.
Xie Dog held onto her sable hat, finding something to say. "Xiao Mo, is there anyone you're afraid of?"
Xiao Mo said, "Not many. Little Master definitely counts as one."
In that ancient era, the swordsman Xiao Mo and Bai Jing were both well-known troublemakers. They had few friends and many enemies.
Xie Dog made a bitter face, a bit aggrieved. "I can't beat Ritual Sage. I can't get my revenge."
Xiao Mo smiled. "No need to get revenge for that kind of thing."
Xie Dog said, "Next time I go to the Lotus Root Blessed Land, I'm coming along."
Xiao Mo hesitated for a moment, then said, "I'll let the young master know."
Xie Dog hopped and skipped on the sea of clouds. Her sable hat bobbed, her clothes fluttered.
Xiao Mo walked alongside her with a smile. As for the sable-hatted girl's childish behavior, Xiao Mo naturally couldn't do that. He just followed and watched.
At the border of Sui'an County, Yanzhou Prefecture, by the bank of the Xi Mei River, the White-Clothed Yuan Tianfeng, a guest official of the Great Li Astrological Observatory, was traveling with a mountain senior named Liu Xiang, styled Zijun, also known as Jujun.
The latter had a youthful appearance and an intense aura of scholarly learning that he couldn't conceal even if he tried. So he had to use a divine and unusual method that isolated heaven and earth but didn't hinder the connection of the "river water" and "well water" of the two rivers of time.
This situation was somewhat similar to Zuo You's journey across the sea to seek immortals.
When walking, Liu Xiang had a habit of hunching over, unable to straighten his back.
To the eyes of ordinary people in the marketplace, he might look like a young man with a good appearance, but he was already stooped so young.
Earlier, Yuan Tianfeng had looked at the feng shui and suggested that a local squire from a scholarly family build a Kuixing Pavilion to gather purple qi. He also left three prophecies: "The second-place scholar leads the way, the top scholar follows." "One family produces two successful candidates, a hundred miles yields three top scholars." "Purple qi comes from the east, Kuixing shines in all directions."
From start to finish, Liu Xiang just smiled and stood by, watching, not saying a word.
Yuan Tianfeng asked, "Mr. Zijun, do you think it's inappropriate for me to borrow the purple qi with words from the Dao Ancestor?"
Liu Xiang smiled and shook his head. "Nothing inappropriate. It's quite good. Mr. Yuan is a person of great skill."
Yuan Tianfeng said helplessly, "It's one thing for others to call me a great person. But when you say it, it always feels like you're mocking me for not being skilled enough in my craft."
Liu Xiang said, "Then you're overthinking it, Mr. Yuan."
Yuan Tianfeng changed the subject. "Why does Mr. Liu like to call himself a collector of unofficial histories?"
Liu Xiang replied, "It's the kind of learning that has been cast aside. As time goes on, it becomes harder and harder to be accepted in refined circles. It's the times and fate."
Yuan Tianfeng said, "From ancient times onwards, later scholars shouldn't have gone to such extremes."
Liu Xiang said with a carefree smile, "The praises of the past were beyond my capacity to enjoy back then. The condemnations of later generations, I couldn't bear either. The result is what I am now."
For example, from a small nation's official language to a continent's refined speech, the Confucian Temple had once, and only once, decreed an era name to be used throughout the entire Nine Righteousness Continents: the Initial First Year.
Yuan Tianfeng sighed. There was a question he was extremely curious about but wasn't appropriate to ask.
It was said that when the Righteousness Continent was first established, someone had stood against the Supreme Sage, their ways differing, and they parted ways.
As if guessing Yuan Tianfeng's thoughts, Liu Xiang said, "Whether I am that person or not, it doesn't hinder our meeting."
Yuan Tianfeng asked a slightly less taboo question. "Did Mr. Zijun once spend some time in Bead Abyss Cave Heaven?"
Liu Xiang nodded. "Yes. At the invitation of the Youth Heavenly Lord, there was indeed a period of 'observing the Dao' and... it could barely be considered a form of protecting the Dao. But I didn't stay long. I left soon after."
Yuan Tianfeng sighed, finally getting this confirmation. Some previously puzzling connections now made sense.
"It's nothing. Over the past ten thousand years, I've traveled to many places using different identities. Those few years in Bead Abyss Cave Heaven were but a snap of the fingers."
Liu Xiang smiled. "Headmaster Lu's 'Chapter on Heaven's Cycle' says, 'When the dormant insects begin to stir, I startle them with thunder.' We who are fond of good wine drink the fine brew as if awakened from slumber. Come on, let's find a small eatery or a night stall and have a drink."
In the night, the group quietly arrived at Huaihuang County.
They split into two groups. Xin Ji'an took his friend to see the Dragon-Well Lock, then went into an alley and said with a smile, "Brother Duanzheng, this is the Riding Dragon Alley."
The burly man Xin Ji'an called "Duanzheng" had an iron sword at his waist. Although he wore a scholar's robe, he looked more like a wanderer in the world.
This was the scholar the Middle Earth Confucian Temple had arranged to preside over the Northern Sacred Mountain Lord's Enfeoffment Ceremony.
The other three scholars, all of very high seniority, stopped at a place the locals of the small town commonly called the Crab Workshop.
One of them was from beyond the heavens. He had met the last Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall before. He was the accountant among that early group of scholars, the one who specialized in managing the money bag.
He was extremely adept at making money, so he was an oddity among the ancient scholars.
The two beside him were one with a wooden expression, a gourd hanging from his waist. The other had barely spoken the entire journey.
The scholar with the gourd at his waist sighed softly. "My heart is willing, but my strength is not. If Duanzheng hadn't been in the Barren Wastes back then, he definitely would have come here to lend Qi Jingshun a hand."
The other scholar looked up at one of the plaques. "'Not shirking responsibilities when they arise'—that's nothing more than this. 'Seeking benevolence and attaining it'—that is the true nature of a scholar."
Then he glanced at the canopy of heaven and murmured, "There are gods three feet above our heads."
Unless he spoke, his words always hit the mark.
The three of them had just walked through Apricot Flower Lane and Mud Vial Lane.
What they had seen and heard differed from their other two senior and junior brothers. Besides seeing some past deeds of a simple-minded youth, a straw-shoe youth, and a snot-nosed kid, all related to the character "filial piety,"
He had also heard a certain murmur from the Sword Immortal Cao Xi inside his ancestral home.
He turned to the accountant and said with a smile, "You're different from all of us. You had an avatar in the Azure Underworld for so long. Did you gain anything?"
The accountant said with a smile, "It was a bit constrained."
Besides being good at managing money, this man could also be considered one of the foremost strategists in the world.
"When should we go to Luopo Mountain for a visit?"
The accountant asked and answered himself, "Let's wait until Duanzheng makes a move. I heard there are two old friends on that mountain. We need to be good mediators."
Earlier today, Zheng Dafeng had gone down the mountain to the small town and visited the Yang Family Pharmacy. Who knows what he had put in his hair—it was shiny and slick.
Zheng Dafeng sauntered into the shop. "Where's that girl Yan Zhi?"
The shopkeeper, Shi Lingshan, said impatiently, "So you remember you have a fellow disciple? You've been back for so long and only just now come. The senior sister has gone on a long journey."
Zheng Dafeng leaned against the counter. "You don't know when she'll be back?"
Shi Lingshan wore a sour expression. This nominal senior brother was always so frivolous and liked to bring up whatever was least welcome. "Shake your head over a pot, and you could stir-fry a dish. You wouldn't need to buy half an ounce of oil all year round."
This was a brat from Peach Leaf Lane, and he was already speaking so pleasantly.
Zheng Dafeng had seen all kinds of wind and waves in his life. Such weird talk was no different from scratching an itch. "No respect. Is that how you talk to your senior brother?"
In truth, Zheng Dafeng had already guessed that his junior sister Su Dian, following their master's orders, had gone to the Azure Underworld to find another senior brother, "Xie Xin'en."
Zheng Dafeng chatted with Shi Lingshan for a bit in the pharmacy. He walked out, raised his hand to block the sun, and looked up at the sun.
He hesitated, walked out of the small town, crossed the stone arch bridge, and came to a small hill adjacent to the high western mountain. Beneath his feet were patch after patch of terraced fields.
Zheng Dafeng sat on the ridge of the field. Behind him was a small, unmarked grave, solitary, built of piled stones, very inconspicuous.
From here, he could see the Dragon Beard River.
The grave behind him belonged to that effeminate kiln worker. He had lived a miserable life, with no place to stand, and after death, he hadn't taken up much space.
His niece was Su Dian, whose childhood name was Yan Zhi.
Zheng Dafeng believed that before Su Dian left the Righteousness Continent, she must have come here to talk to her only relative, her uncle, heart to heart.
Zheng Dafeng stood up, took out a flask of wine, crouched by the grave, and poured it onto the ground. He did this three times until the flask was empty. He stood up again and casually tossed the empty flask far into the river.
He sat back down on the ridge, took a deep breath, and called out with his heart voice, "Lu Chen, I know you can hear me. Come sit for a while."
A moment later, a young Daoist wearing a lotus crown appeared at the foot of the mountain. He ran up the mountain as fast as his legs could carry him, sweating profusely, and plopped down beside Zheng Dafeng.
Headmaster Lu raised his hand, fanning himself vigorously, panting. "Worn out."
Zheng Dafeng gave Headmaster Lu a thumbs-up.
You can teleport here in an instant, and yet you don't know to travel by shrinking the earth to get to your buddy's side?
Lu Chen asked with a smile, "Brother Dafeng, what guidance do you have for your little brother? But let's set one thing straight: if it's too big a matter, your little brother has thin arms and spindly legs—maybe he can't carry it or lift it."
Zheng Dafeng said, "Nothing major. I just want to see what Yan Zhi said before she left on her long journey."
Lu Chen sucked in a cold breath. "I could do this thing, but it's not quite right, is it?"
Zheng Dafeng reached out and pressed on Headmaster Lu's shoulder, chuckling. "Sure enough, after a few days apart, we've grown distant. Remember when the two of us used to go eavesdropping..."
"Stop, stop, stop. Let bygones be bygones."
Lu Chen tried to brush away Zheng Dafeng's hand, but it wouldn't budge. He had to concede. "Alright, alright. Your little brother will put in his utmost effort and use some mountain magic."
Zheng Dafeng finally withdrew his hand. A moment later, ripples formed. A young woman, after hanging paper money on the grave, sat down not far from them, her hands propped on the ridge.
Before Su Dian left her hometown, this was indeed the last hometown scenery she saw. After speaking her heart to her uncle, she began humming an ancient, obscure folk song. Even the old people who had grown up in this small town might not understand it.
It sounded a bit like a prayer for rain.
"A rainbow rises in the west, by morning it will rain..."
"Its rain, its rain, but the sun comes out bright..."
It must have been that effeminate man named Su Han who often hummed this tune when no one was around. Su Dian heard it often and learned it along the way.
Lu Chen suddenly frowned. Zheng Dafeng said in a low voice, "Lu Chen, consider this a favor from me."
Lu Chen sighed and nodded. "Don't mention favors. Just consider it a debt of a flask of wine."
A moment later, Su Dian held a heavy treasure. Her figure flickered, and she was already far away in the Azure Underworld. But within this scroll of time, a hunchbacked young man in a scholar's robe appeared very abruptly, hands behind his back, slowly walking up the mountain to Su Dian and the grave. He looked up at the blazing sun and cloudless sky and murmured to himself, "'With dampness on the path, why not travel at dawn or night? The dew on the path is heavy.' Isn't it because one fears the dampness of the dew? This is a metaphor for acting against propriety, which will surely bring disgrace."
"One who manages, one who watches the gate—is it so?"
Finally, he smiled and said, waving his hand, "When the lacquered cart suddenly meets rain, please explain for the students."
Headmaster Lu's learning needed no elaboration. Even Zheng Dafeng, back when he was in the talent-rich Bead Abyss Cave Heaven, could be described as "inwardly brilliant and profoundly learned." It wasn't an exaggeration.
So, whether it was the content of Su Dian's rain prayer or the words of that strange scholar later, they both understood. As for the deeper meaning, they were even more clear in their hearts.
Once a woman, she was named Su Han. The rain master tended the fire—how pitiful. The rain master prayed for rain, yet even that was denied.
Life often has its bitterness, making one want to cry but having no tears. Instead, one can only laugh and pretend not to care, speaking lightly of certain hardships.
This was a man who was utterly disappointed with the world. Yet, in the end, his last wish was for the dozing heavens to open their eyes, so that a certain youth, who had no relation to him, would always be safe and sound. That good people would have good fortune.
After a long silence, Zheng Dafeng and Headmaster Lu spoke three words in unison.
Crouching by the field ridge, the young Daoist wearing the lotus crown held his head in his hands, chewing on a blade of grass, his gaze upward at the sky. He said with a smile:
"This heaven."