Chapter 1050: Invincible at the Drinking Table
Green mountains and lofty men, meeting as if by appointment. Outside the tower, thousands of peaks; the brush tip never retreats. White clouds born in the mirror; bright moon falls before the steps. The great sun rises from the eastern sea, and another day begins.
A little girl in black, with a cotton bundle slung diagonally, holding a green bamboo staff, carrying a golden shoulder pole across her shoulder, had finished her morning patrol duties. She was going out to roam the martial world!
A few days ago, she had agreed with the Left Guardian of Qilong Alley on the location, date, and time to meet at Huimeng Mountain. Today they were going to Huanghu Mountain together.
Running along a small path behind Jise Peak, her short little legs spun like cart wheels.
Wind passed through the mountain forest, a great gust blowing, bamboo leaves rustling, pine waves surging, listening to the sounds of nature.
As the Good Mountain Lord spent more and more time at home, the Right Guardian's courage grew day by day.
Now not only did she patrol twice daily between Jise Peak and Jiling Peak, Xiaomili occasionally even went to Huimeng Mountain, or even traveled all the way to Huanghu Mountain.
Mainly because she heard from Jingqing that at Huanghu Mountain, there was often a minor official serving as county magistrate who went fishing, named Fu Hu. He seemed to be the parent-official of Pingnan County. Somehow he had gotten to know their master.
Xiaomili wasn't really concerned about Fu Hu's catch, but rather that Magistrate Fu was a mortal who had never refined qi, while the lake contained many strange aquatic creatures of considerable strength. There were even several green fish weighing over two hundred jin. Magistrate Fu might end up being fished by the fish instead.
Huanghu Mountain was formerly the territory of Hongxia, the water dragon. A water mansion had been opened at the bottom of the lake. Chen Nuanshu and Chen Lingjun's two Dragon King baskets had been refined into a landscape grand array here.
On the mountain were several old tea trees, plus the spring water from Yuanmu Peak. Every year before Grain Rain, Old Chef would personally go up the mountain to pick tea, then return to the residence to roast and brew it. Every time Xiaomili drank the tea, she would praise it: good flavor, with a sweet aftertaste.
At a rest pavilion on the northern mountain path of Huimeng Mountain, Xiaomili met with the Left Guardian, and they ambled together toward Huanghu Mountain.
She took out pastries prepared in advance and gave half to the Left Guardian—peach blossom cakes and almond crisps from the New Year's Gift Shop in Qilong Alley.
After eating the pastries, Xiaomili clapped her hands and laughed: "Left Guardian, did you know? Not only Sister Hongxia's Huanghu Mountain, but also the guardian arrays of many of our other vassal mountains were all paid for by Chief Zhou from his own pocket. A lot of money."
The native dog nodded.
That Zhou Fei really was rich, a landed gentry who spent money without blinking an eye. They could use a few more such chief patrons—the more the merrier.
Xiaomili spoke with an air of sophistication: "That Fu Hu who likes to fish by the lake is the magistrate of Pingnan County, a genuine official. I heard from Jingqing that Magistrate Fu used to sit in the top chair at the Garrison News Office in the Great Li capital. Coming to Pingnan County as magistrate is a lateral transfer, not a promotion, but it's an important post. If we really do run into Magistrate Fu, remember to watch my expression and act accordingly. We both need to be sharp."
The native dog continued nodding. Chen Lingjun wasn't wrong—he was just a minor official, but being able to govern a county in Chuzhou of Great Li was far more promising than being idle in a clean-water yamen like the Garrison News Office. He definitely had family background. He remembered a certain Fu, named Fu Yu, who had served as Prefect of Baoxi Commandery. He was a capital shijiazi, originally working as a literary secretary handling documents and accounts for Wu Yuan. Probably related to Fu Hu.
Xiaomili looked down, puzzled: "The Left Guardian knows all this? Could Sister Nuanshu be right—can you actually open your aperture and refine your form now?"
The native dog quickly shook his head.
If Xiaomili found out the truth, not just Luopo Mountain, but even the Qingping Sword Sect on Tongye Continent would know. Actually, it didn't matter who knew—just couldn't let Pei Qian find out.
This Left Guardian of Qilong Alley had actually long had a name: Han Lu.
If not for Pei Qian, having a "true name" and having taken elixirs like candy, he would have succeeded in form refinement long ago.
Thinking of that former little charcoal... the past was unbearable to recall. Even when Pei Qian had transformed into a young girl and was about to go on a journey to Beiju Luzhou, she had seemingly deliberately instructed Xiaomili: you are government colleagues, don't scheme against each other, love each other. When she wasn't home, let the Left Guardian report to you often. Don't always wander around. The martial world is dangerous. Some dog-stealing experts are very skilled at catching dogs—they don't even need meat buns, just bend down and scoop, and they can wrap a dog in a cotton robe and spirit it away, unseen and unheard. Then the Left Guardian ends up in your stew pot, and we don't even get to eat dog meat... You all eat together at Old Chef's place, don't starve the Left Guardian. Besides you, remember to remind Old Chef to throw more bones on the ground.
Not eating would be disrespectful, easily remembered by Xiaomili, and then Pei Qian would settle accounts after returning home. Eating would be degrading.
Xiaomili looked left and right. Seeing no one around, she pulled a silk cape from her cotton bag, tied it on, and flourished a mad sword technique.
Suddenly, from a rest pavilion with white walls and black tiles ahead, a figure in a green long gown emerged, with gentle eyes and a smiling expression, watching Xiaomili who was admiring herself.
Xiaomili looked embarrassed, hurriedly ran toward the Good Mountain Lord who had arrived without notice, and said shyly: "A bit childish, huh."
This dark blue cape fit Xiaomili perfectly—clearly Old Chef's handiwork.
"How is it childish? You're not getting the hang of it, that's why it feels awkward."
As he spoke, Chen Ping'an made a motion of pinching something between two fingers and flicking his wrist. "That's how female heroes in the martial world do it."
Xiaomili imitated him, reaching out to grab a corner of the cape and vigorously flicking her wrist, making a rustling sound.
Oh ho, oh ho.
So that's it!
Chen Ping'an said seriously: "Still think it's childish now?"
Xiaomili grinned: "Imposing and mighty!"
Chen Ping'an nodded to the native dog, who immediately understood and went off to play by himself.
He chatted with Xiaomili about the recent situation of the Lower Sect. He said that at the Qingping Sword Sect, they had newly established Three Prefectures, Six Departments, and Eight Bureaus, with various people appointed to positions, each managing specific matters.
Xiaomili listened in a daze, frowning her two faint, sparse eyebrows, but remembered earnestly. Was being an informant that easy?
After the big white goose became Sect Leader, things were different—she was handing out official hats like crazy.
Chen Ping'an laughed: "Sect Leader Cui is teaching me how to do things."
Xiaomili blinked.
Chen Ping'an suppressed his smile: "You haven't told Pei Qian about that hero manual, have you?"
Xiaomili shook her head vigorously: "I made an agreement with White Head, the Sword Immortal and Peak Master of Pianran Peak at Taihui Sword Sect, not to mention it."
But the small matter of White Head and the Good Mountain Lord being sworn brothers, Xiaomili had told Pei Qian in full detail.
At that time, Pei Qian had darkened her face and said, very well, noted.
Xiaomili then spoke her true feelings: White Head and the Good Mountain Lord had a really good relationship. It was obvious that although Sword Immortal White never said it out loud, deep down he really admired the Good Mountain Lord. Hmm, Old Chef had made an analogy: it was like a youth who, meeting an adult he truly respected from the bottom of his heart, worried that they wouldn't have anything to talk about, so he liked to say, "I can drink alcohol!"
Pei Qian's expression softened, and she nodded, saying that White Head becoming Sword Immortal Liu's direct disciple was actually arranged by her master. That guy had always been disrespectful—before, he never called Sword Immortal Liu "Master," just "that surnamed Liu," without any decorum.
Chen Ping'an rubbed his chin. Since it wasn't Xiaomili who leaked the news, who actually told Pei Qian?
Xiaomili scratched her face, still feeling she had to hint something to the Good Mountain Lord.
"Ha, it definitely wasn't Jingqing."
Chen Ping'an touched the little girl's head, pretending to realize: "I see. Looks like I wronged Jingqing."
Chen Ping'an let Xiaomili ride on his shoulders.
Like a father doting on his own daughter.
The little girl folded her arms on the Good Mountain Lord's head, rested her round chin on her arms, squinted and smiled, telling the Good Mountain Lord about all the interesting things she had seen during patrols yesterday, the day before, and the day before that. For example, there was a big toad on the road—it walked so slowly. Near Xuxin Pavilion, some birds whose names she didn't know had built a nest. At the pavilion with the longest name, thirty-six steps away, the tea leaves were almost ready to eat. Unfortunately, the kiwis were still small. On a red lacquered pillar of Yuxia Pavilion, someone had secretly carved words. Magpies chattered, often bringing good news on the branches...
"Wow, so many new things, so interesting!"
"Of course, extremely interesting."
Great Scholar Dao Lin was in charge of the conferment ceremony for Beiyue Piyun Mountain. Zhou Guo was responsible for Zhongyue Chezi Mountain. Min Wen and Li Hou were respectively in charge of the conferment ceremonies for Dongyue Qi Mountain and Xiyue Ganzhou Mountain.
Earlier, they had only stayed briefly at Luopo Mountain. Dao Lin soon followed Wei Po to the Mountain Lord's Mansion to discuss the ceremony procedures. Among them, Li Hou took time to visit the Luopo Mountain accounts room. Wei Wenlong was so excited he couldn't speak properly.
Chen Qingliu and Xin Ji'an left Luopo Mountain together, planning to visit the still-unclaimed Autumn Wind Shrine.
Old and new friends were all leaving. Chen Lingjun was very reluctant, while Jing Hao, who couldn't avoid two rounds of drinks every day these days, pretended to be reluctant.
Jing Hao's direct disciple Gao Geng, swordsman Bai Deng, and the ghost with the Taoist name Yin Lu had already gone down the mountain earlier, openly avoiding the drinking.
Two rounds of drinks every day—each morning drinking, Chen Lingjun wouldn't bother Nuanshu, that silly girl.
Chen Lingjun escorted them all the way to the mountain gate and made an agreement with Elder Jing Hao that whenever he traveled to Liuxia Continent, he would definitely first visit Qinggong Mountain.
He gave a package to Chen Qingliu, saying it contained some pastries from the New Year's Gift Shop, dried fish he had sun-dried himself, some tea from Huanghu Mountain, honey from Xiancao Mountain, etc., to eat on the road as appetizers for drinks. Then he spoke mentally to Chen Qingliu, telling him to say fewer sarcastic and harsh words in front of Elder Jing Hao—the old man was just broad-minded and didn't bother to argue, so don't push it.
Chen Qingliu just slung the light-on-pretension package over his shoulder and left without a single word to Chen Lingjun.
This angered the green-clad boy, who had prepared polite farewell phrases like "seeing off a thousand miles must end at last." He endured and endured but couldn't hold back. He took three steps in two, leaped up, and kicked Chen Qingliu right on the butt, cursing, "Go to hell."
Jing Hao pretended not to see anything, though his eyelids twitched.
Several figures grew distant.
Suddenly, Chen Qingliu raised his arm and waved gently.
Chen Lingjun was finally satisfied. He moved to squat beside the Taoist Xian Wei.
Xian Wei, sitting on a bamboo chair sunbathing, couldn't help asking: "Jingqing, have you ever been to the Confucian Temple?"
Chen Lingjun was stunned, puzzled: "On Luopo Mountain, only my master has been to the Zhongtu Confucian Temple. Who am I? How could I go? And even if I went, could I get in?"
Xian Wei was confused by Chen Lingjun's response, and said helplessly: "I didn't mean the Zhongtu Confucian Temple. I meant those common county and commandery Confucian temples."
According to Haoran ritual, every county in the nine continents had a Confucian temple built.
Chen Lingjun looked at him with pity, patted the Taoist's shoulder. Studied himself silly.
"Isn't that obvious? Along the Yu River in Huangting Kingdom, there are so many Confucian temples of various sizes. How could I not have been there?"
Xian Wei was even more puzzled. If he had been there, why didn't he recognize those scholars? Except for some remote, poor small-county temples, ordinary commandery temples or slightly wealthier county temples would hang portraits of the Ten Philosophers of the Confucian Temple.
Chen Lingjun felt a bit guilty. To be honest, he hadn't been to many Confucian temples. He had been to some, though. "When you enter a mountain, you pay respects to the mountain lord; when you enter water, you pay respects to the water mansion. Don't you know? When you enter a temple and burn incense, sincerity is what matters most. Every time I go to a Confucian temple, I first offer incense, then go to the main hall to bow before the portraits. Outside the door, I stare hard at the portrait of the Supreme Sage, focusing without distraction. When I cross the threshold and kneel on the cushion, I kowtow to him with all my might!"
In Chen Lingjun's view, this was worshipping the biggest mountain. For example, if you go to Beiju Luzhou and have the fortune, you must get along well with Fire Dragon True Person, who works both sides. Another example, when going to Liuxia Continent, you must first visit Qinggong Mountain and get familiar with the virtuous and broad-minded Elder Jing Hao.
Hearing this, Xian Wei understood and was deeply convinced. This was indeed something Chen Lingjun would do.
Xian Wei looked at the green-clad boy with pity and patted his shoulder: "Fellow Daoist Jingqing, you really do take an unusual path."
Chen Lingjun laughed heartily: "These are precious martial world experiences worth a thousand gold. You have a lot to learn."
The return date kept being postponed. Gao Jun, the sect leader of Hushan Sect who had been delaying repeatedly, finally was willing to leave Luopo Mountain and Piyun Mountain. She was the first to return to Lotus Root Paradise.
Zhong Qian would leave two days later than Gao Jun, reluctantly returning to his home world. This unambitious Martial Artist at Golden Body realm, if not for the fact that he was the number one martial artist in the blessed land, would probably just stay in his private residence on Jise Peak, continuing to eat green onions with sauce every day, drink a little wine, read some miscellaneous books borrowed from Dafeng Brother and Taoist Xian Wei, and when meal time came, he would go to Zhu Lian's place to wait, help bring dishes to the table, after eating, help clean up with the pink-skirted girl, and finally order a few dishes from Old Chef for the next meal. Then he had something to look forward to.
On this day, a visitor came from Niujiao Ferry, heading straight for Luopo Mountain.
The white-haired boy appeared and disappeared mysteriously. She, as the registrar, was as diligent and responsible as Xiaomili the informant.
Among the visitors, there was finally a qi refiner at the Middle Five Realms!
It was Zeng Ye, the sect leader of Five Islands Sect from Shujian Lake. He had taken a ferry from the Great Li capital to this place. The white-haired boy recorded the date and his registry identity.
Zeng Ye declined the registrar's offer to guide him. He walked himself to the bamboo house on Jise Peak. Chen Ping'an put down his brush and led Zeng Ye to a stone table by the cliff to sit.
Chen Ping'an asked with a smile: "You went to the Great Li capital?"
Zeng Ye nodded, hesitating to speak.
Chen Ping'an said: "You've already seen her?"
For no reason, Zeng Ye suddenly burst into tears.
Chen Ping'an was silent for a moment. He really didn't know how to console Zeng Ye properly, so he had to say: "When you have time, go sit with Zhu Lian. Talk to him about this."
Zeng Ye composed himself and talked with Chen Ping'an about the situation of Five Islands Sect. Chen Ping'an listened carefully and gave some suggestions, pointing out details Zeng Ye should pay attention to.
Later, Nuanshu came, standing far away on the bluestone path. She didn't disturb the Mountain Lord and Sect Leader Zeng discussing serious matters. Only when the conversation ended did she walk toward the stone table and lead Sect Leader Zeng to his residence in the mountain. At the door of the house, Zeng Ye took the key, thanked Nuanshu, entered the room, put down his luggage, hesitated for a moment, then went directly to find the old steward Zhu who was the butler of Luopo Mountain.
The door of Old Chef's residence was always left ajar, never locked. Anyone could drop by.
Zhu Lian was lying on a rattan chair, waving a palm-leaf fan. He sat up and smiled: "Sect Leader Zeng, honored to meet you."
Zeng Ye bowed: "Zeng Ye of Five Islands Sect, pays respects to Elder Zhu."
Zhu Lian held the fan and waved it: "We're family. No need to be formal. Sit down and chat."
This young man had once been an assistant in the accounts room for their young master on Qingxia Island.
Zeng Ye sat down on a bamboo chair under the eaves and told an old story from many years ago. The beginning of the story was about a boy who was brought to Qingxia Island by an benefactor named Zhang Ye. He saw a haggard-looking but bright-eyed Chen Ping'an, dressed in a cotton robe with a gentle demeanor. Zeng Ye also told how the boy was terrified of Gu Can. In the beginning of this landscape story, it had nothing to do with alcohol. Then, with Chen Ping'an living next door, the timid, cowardly boy gradually felt at ease. He encountered some people and things related to Shujian Lake but very un-Shujian Lake-like—ghosts and debts. Just as Zeng Ye was about to talk about the girl from Huangli Mountain, Zhu Lian stood up, said wait a moment, went to the wine cellar, brought over a jug of wine, removed the clay seal, and handed it to Zeng Ye. Zeng Ye drank the wine—whether man drinking wine or wine drinking man—and continued the story. He talked all the way to going to the Great Li capital, to the reunion under the bright sun. There was a girl squatting and reading a book. In the story in the book, there was a timid boy named Zeng Ye, and a girl named Su who might never have liked Zeng Ye by the end of the story, who might not have known Zeng Ye liked her, or who might have known but pretended not to.
By the end, even the wine jug was empty, but Zeng Ye still tilted his head back as if drinking.
Zhu Lian waved his fan and said softly: "The boy originally thought that if he wanted to reunite with the girl he loved, he would need to search a hundred years, a few hundred years, a thousand years. If he couldn't find her, I believe the boy could keep loving her forever. But the world is so strange—a dream come true, finally finding the girl of his heart. Logically, this is such a rare stroke of luck. He should be extremely grateful, but instead he starts to worry about gains and losses. Yet to say it's sad, it doesn't seem heart-wrenching either. He feels it shouldn't be this way, how can he be so insatiable? It shouldn't be this way. Trivial, gnawing at the heart and lungs, tangled bowels."
"This taste is not bitter, but astringent."
"Completely forgetting Miss Su and turning to love the current Miss Liu—that feels like betraying the former."
"Longingly attached to Miss Su while also loving Miss Liu—that feels like betraying the latter."
"Only because deep in your heart, you have to admit that they are ultimately not the same person anymore."
"Liking someone, not liking someone, liking someone simultaneously, not liking anyone anymore—it seems no matter what you do, it's wrong."
"And since you're not the type to pretend to be oblivious when you know the truth, knowing it's wrong, how can you truly set your heart at ease?"
Zhu Lian asked with a smile: "Zeng Ye, knowing that this would entangle your heart, do you regret meeting Miss Su back then? Do you regret going to the Great Li capital this time?"
The former boy Zeng Ye, now the sect leader of Five Islands Sect, shook his head without hesitation, vigorously: "Absolutely not!"
Zhu Lian nodded, nodded: "At least you've seen her, so you can be at ease. As for certain new regrets, keep them forever hidden in your heart. Zeng Ye, having heard this, if you ask me, 'So I do nothing?' then I'll ask you in return, 'Have you really done nothing?' Listen to me: go back to the capital one more time. Put aside the affairs of Five Islands Sect for a year or two, or three. When you're in the capital, the only thing you need to do is force yourself to do nothing, to avoid making more mistakes. Otherwise, it will be hard to settle your heart again. Find a livelihood there, like an ordinary commoner. Perhaps one day, the answer will come to your heart on its own."
Zeng Ye nodded, his voice hoarse: "I'll do as Mr. Zhu says."
Hearing so much from Mr. Zhu, Zeng Ye felt much better.
Zhu Lian smiled slightly: "Finally, I'll give you one sentence: In matters of love between man and woman, don't place too high expectations, and don't leave yourself completely without hope."
Zeng Ye grinned: "I'll remember."
Chen Ping'an had been secretly standing outside the door, ears pricked. Hearing this, he quietly left.
In the distance was a pink-skirted girl. Chen Ping'an put his finger to his lips, then smiled and nodded to her. Nuanshu performed a curtsey and went off with light steps to attend to other matters.
The Fengyuan Ferry, which had traveled the southeastern trade route of Beiju Luzhou, slowly docked at Niujiao Ferry in the twilight.
Chen Ping'an had been waiting here for a long time with Xiaomili and Chen Lingjun.
While waiting, the little girl in black lent the golden shoulder pole to the green-clad boy, and they sparred, competing in swordsmanship. Xiaomili stood still, swinging her green bamboo staff, while Chen Lingjun dodged and weaved, hopping and jumping, shouting and yelling, thoroughly enjoying himself.
Jia Sheng, respectfully called "Old Immortal Jia" or "Half-Immortal Jia" by the local townspeople, walked behind the ferry's temporary steward, the Law-Keeper and Ancestor Changming. Earlier on the ferry deck, the blind old Taoist had sniffed vigorously—ah, the mountain wind of his hometown seemed to carry the scent of wine.
He hadn't competed in drinking, played drinking games, or had heart-to-heart talks with Brother Jingqing for a long time, and he felt completely out of sorts.
Chen Ping'an clasped his hands in his sleeves and smiled: "You've all worked hard."
The Law-Keeper and Ancestor of Luopo Mountain, dressed in a snow-white robe, performed a curtsey and said in a soft voice: "Master."
Actually, according to Chen Ping'an's original plan, this fellow Daoist Changming, whom he had met in the prison of the old deaf man, could serve as the accountant of Luopo Mountain, working with Wei Wenlong as one void and one solid. But later Cui Dongshan became the Law-Keeper and Ancestor.
After returning home, Chen Ping'an had privately asked Pei Qian about her impression of the Law-Keeper Changming.
Pei Qian told him truthfully: first some good words to set the stage, then finally said: "Looks creepy after a while."
Chen Ping'an was relieved.
It seemed that Changming being the Law-Keeper was the best choice, without equal.
Chen Ping'an smiled: "This Fengyuan Ferry will have a new manager: an old swordsman named Xing Yun, a new offering elder of the Qingping Sword Sect. Old Immortal Jia's position remains unchanged, still the second manager. As for the ferry, it still belongs to our Upper Sect. Changming, as the Law-Keeper and Ancestor of a sect, running a ferry business all year round—as Sect Leader Cui said, it does seem a bit improper."
Generally speaking, a cross-continent ferry was more than sufficient with a Jade Pure realm cultivator stationed on board. Besides, Xing Yun was also a swordsman from the Great Wall of Qi.
Chen Ping'an then told Jia Sheng about another matter: the Qingping Sword Sect had newly established a Yuhai Academy, with Zhong Fu as the Headmaster. They planned to invite Jia Sheng to serve as a lecturer at the academy.
Xiaomili hugged her green bamboo staff and stopped to clap silently. Chen Lingjun, carrying the golden shoulder pole, was a bit confused: Had the big white goose and Headmaster Zhong both taken Jia Old Brother's money? Otherwise, how could an academy, not a drinking table, have Jia Old Brother lecturing?
Chen Ping'an smiled: "Understanding worldly affairs is all knowledge; mastering human relations is literature. Headmaster Zhong and Sect Leader Cui both recognize Old Immortal Jia's learning beyond books, so I agreed on your behalf."
"Ah?" Old Immortal Jia was flustered. "But I've always been blunt-spoken and utterly incapable of smooth social interaction. How do I deserve such praise?"
Chen Ping'an clasped his hands in his sleeves and smiled without speaking.
Chen Lingjun rolled his eyes. Xiaomili scratched her cheek.
Old Immortal Jia stamped his foot in vexation—see, he'd said the wrong thing again! To belittle his own cultivation was one thing, but to belittle the judgment and kindness of Sect Leader Cui and Headmaster Zhong?
Chen Ping'an explained: "Cui Dongshan might joke with you, but you know what kind of person Headmaster Zhong is. For an outsider to serve as a lecturer at the academy, if Zhong Qiu doesn't nod, Cui Dongshan can't just stuff anyone in. As for the specific teaching content, the Fengyuan Ferry will go south to Tongye Continent and dock at Yulin Ferry. Then Old Immortal Jia can discuss it with Headmaster Zhong himself."
Jia Sheng rubbed his hands: "I'll brace myself and give it a try. If I'm unworthy of the position and can't handle it, I won't wait for Headmaster Zhong to kick me out—I'll pack my bedding and roll away myself."
Changming asked: "Master, I heard the five sacred mountains are about to be conferred. Do we need to prepare congratulatory gifts?"
For such a joyous event in the mountain realm as the conferment of the five sacred mountains, it was customary for all sects and major immortal mansions within a continent to send congratulations and express their respect. Usually, the sect leader or headmaster would write a personal letter and prepare a gift befitting the status of the mountain.
Chen Ping'an said: "Except for Jin Qing and Fan Junmao, we at Luopo Mountain won't stick our warm faces against the cold butts of the other mountain lords."
Old Immortal Jia immediately caught the implication—there was substance to chew on.
The Law-Keeper Changming smiled: "Earlier in Beiju Luzhou, we encountered several high-ranking individuals. Manager Jia chatted with them, answering questions fluently and very appropriately."
Old Immortal Jia said shamefacedly: "Wine caused trouble. I couldn't control my mouth. Wine caused trouble."
Chen Lingjun slapped Jia Sheng on the arm: "Jia Old Brother, impressive! Another great achievement!"
Everyone knew that the Law-Keeper Changming rarely praised anyone.
Jia Sheng said helplessly: "It's nothing, nothing. Not a great achievement. Now that I think back, I'm still scared, with lingering fear. I'm afraid I might have said something wrong at the drinking table, damaging those scholars' impression of our Luopo Mountain."
In official circles, whether on the mountain or off, it was the same: afraid of both not speaking or acting and being wrong, and even more afraid of speaking or acting incorrectly.
Chen Lingjun laughed heartily: "What's there to fear? As long as it's at a drinking table, Jia Old Brother, you and that Liu Wine Immortal are both invincible!"
Jia Sheng had a headache. How could he dare compare himself to Sword Immortal Liu.
Chen Ping'an was curious: "Oh? How so? Who did you meet, what did you talk about? Tell me in detail."
Changming then narrated the entire process of that drinking party in detail. Chen Ping'an listened intently.
It turned out that at an immortal ferry port in Beiju Luzhou, Old Immortal Jia had accompanied Law-Keeper Changming to negotiate a business deal with a local immortal mansion. Nearby was a tavern that sold a kind of immortal brew called "Double Spring Wine." Knowing Jia Sheng was fond of drink and the business had been settled, Law-Keeper Changming naturally had no objection. It just so happened they ran into a group already seated and drinking in the tavern. Compared to the last time at Qilong Alley, there was one fewer—the old man from the Chen family of Chunsuo of Posuo Continent—and two more—elderly scholars in Confucian robes with gaunt features, and a simple-looking old man who seemed like a servant. Among the familiar faces were Pang Chao, the Luoyang woodcarver who had once visited Qilong Alley, and the female cultivator Qin Buyi.
Qin Buyi was generous and spontaneously invited Law-Keeper Changming and Jia Sheng to join them for a drink.
The three old gentlemen appeared to embody one wealthy, one noble, and one poor in demeanor.
Among them, Huang Zhenshu claimed to be a lecturer at the Xishui Zhitai Academy.
Another, named Zeng Xinxu, said he had once been a compiler in a small country and was now free from official duties, accompanying two old friends who had rare leisure time to travel the great mountains and rivers.
The last, named Fan Cheng, didn't talk much.
At first, Jia Sheng was a bit constrained. But once the wine—a few cups of fragrant immortal brew—went down, his courage swelled. Although the old Taoist was very measured and absolutely dared not get drunk, that slightly tipsy state was truly wonderful. Plus, Huang Zhenshu was quite talkative and skilled at toasting and urging others to drink. After a while, Old Immortal Jia's floodgates opened.
They chatted all the way to Luopo Mountain, Chen Ping'an, moral and scholarly knowledge... endlessly. Old Immortal Jia's words seemed unrestrained, but were actually measured to perfection.
When it came to Huang Zhenshu, who was most congenial over drinks (drinking like water), they talked about Master Nanfeng. Jia Sheng drained his cup and said: "Master Nanfeng's essays are unique in the world, like the Yangtze and Han rivers to water, stars to the sky."
The Law-Keeper Changming keenly noticed that when the old scholar named Zeng Xinxu heard this, he smiled and shook his head.
Huang Zhenshu asked with a smile: "Does that young mountain lord admire popular essays like 'Daoshan Pavilion' and 'Ink Pool Record'?"
This old scholar seemed to be waiting at the drinking table for the blind Taoist to utter those clichéd praises.
Jia Sheng laughed heartily and shook his head repeatedly: "Our mountain lord's admiration for Master Nanfeng is not merely for his strict rhetoric and righteous principles, but for his arrangement. Our mountain lord frankly said that if it were limited to that, there are thousands of brilliant essays in the world, shining like stars. Master Nanfeng is just one of them. Essays like 'Daoshan Pavilion' and 'Ink Pool Record' are certainly good, but just good. What our mountain lord truly admires most is not some of Master Nanfeng's most famous works and how beautifully they are written, but rather those controversial essays like 'Record of Lord Zhao's Disaster Relief in Yuezhou' and 'Record of Yihuang County School'—those are what he most recognizes! Even more, it's Master Nanfeng's consistency of word and deed, his ability to apply learning to practice, his focus on practical statecraft, his genuine concern for the people's suffering, never empty talk on paper! To be honest, our mountain lord likes to copy books, reading and noting as he goes. But essays he copies in full..."
Old Immortal Jia put down his cup, extended both hands, and turned them over: "At most twenty essays. In terms of quantity, Master Nanfeng stands alone at the top—four essays alone!"
"Ask yourselves, how many beautiful essays are there in the world? The sea of books is boundless. Is it easy to pick out twenty pearls?"
The old Taoist didn't lie. Mountain Lord Chen Ping'an indeed highly esteemed Master Nanfeng.
But to say that Chen Ping'an had said such "exaggerated praise" to Jia Sheng—really, it wasn't that extreme, far from what the old Taoist claimed.
At that time, it was just a casual chat while sitting in Old Chef's courtyard, cracking melon seeds. The content of Chen Ping'an's words was still quite plain.
Zhu Lian had added a few words, and now Old Immortal Jia had brought all that to the drinking table.
"Of course, our mountain lord also said that this is just his personal view and preference. Those pearl-like essays and those not selected—the quality of scholarship, good or bad, high or low—has some relationship but not an absolute one. After all, everyone has their own aesthetics and interests."
"Scholars who just curse heaven, earth, and people—is that interesting? Interesting. Is it meaningful? I, this poor Taoist, think not necessarily."
"Good scholarship, for the world, must not only be destructive. It must also have the ability to repair and construct. Push down, then rebuild. Can't just pat your butt and leave. Stop writing there."
"Scholars say that writing carries the Way and passes the torch. So the true gain or loss of an essay cannot lie only in literary brilliance, ornate decorations. How can it not be tied to governance and order?"
"Able to raise questions—good. Able to solve problems—even better."
Huang Zhenshu and Zeng Xinxu, the two old scholars, exchanged glances and smiled knowingly. They then simultaneously looked toward the silent, expressionless old man.
Doesn't this quite resemble the style of Old Scholar Wen's reasoning and your Lord Shao's lecturing on the classics?
Liking and being skilled at a layered, interlocking progression—not easily denying, yet not easily affirming either. True goodness often lies in higher places.
"I, this poor Taoist, am shallow in learning and low in insight. Originally no different from ordinary people, I greatly admired Duke Zeng Wen's elegant writing. Only after chatting with our mountain lord did I realize that what makes this scholar most different from those literary giants who have left their names in history is precisely the most formidable aspect. Our mountain lord said that in dealing with people, one must both emulate the virtuous and seek originality, not only avoid being vulgar but also possess unique elegance. But in writing and in character, to neither speak strange words nor behave absurdly, nor deliberately attract readers with bizarre style and obscure content, yet still be different—that is as difficult as reaching heaven."
Pang Chao had long been baffled by the blind old Taoist's continuous sincere speeches.
Before drinking, he was somewhat restrained, acting kindly and politely. But after drinking, it was as if he had divine assistance.
Pang Chao hadn't read many books, but Qin Buyi, who was from the same hometown and era as Bai Ye, knew the weight of these praises.
In simple terms, if this old Taoist wasn't spouting nonsense, it meant that in Chen Ping'an's mind, this Master Nanfeng, whom he had never met, was fully comparable to the most accomplished Bai Ye and Haoran's Su Shi. Even surpassing them?
If it was last-minute cramming, the old Taoist could never have produced such "instant essays."
Huang Zhenshu mentally asked with a smile: "Has this Taoist already recognized our identities?"
Qin Buyi wasn't sure.
There were many wonders on Luopo Mountain.
The simplest, most wooden old scholar shook his head slightly, giving the answer.
Zeng Xinxu asked with a smile: "May I ask, Daoist Jia, what does your mountain lord think of the essays written by a few of Master Su's proud disciples? For example, Huang of Su-Huang?"
Jia Sheng hesitated, drained his cup, took courage from the wine: "At Luopo Mountain, we always treat others with empathy and sincerity. Our mountain lord has indeed mentioned this Master Chonghe. He said that if he were lucky enough to meet the talented Old Master Huang, they could drink heartily and talk about life, but they absolutely should not discuss trivial worldly matters—