Chapter 1064: A Year of Blossoms and Trees on the Mountain

Chapter 1064: A Year of Blossoms and Trees on the Mountain

Atop the desolate peak, Bai ye stood while Jun Qian sat, idly chatting about the three rivers of Red Candle Town, one of which was the Jade Liquid River.

Little Grain had already taken her leave, hopping and skipping, carrying the golden carrying pole on her shoulder, holding the green bamboo staff in her hand, and wearing her beloved cotton cloth bag slung across her body. There was no military power inside at the moment.

Bai Ye had heard some stories and said with a smile, "That Junior Brother Chen of yours is quite easy to talk to."

Jun Qian explained, "Zhu Lian once threw a punch in the Jade Liquid River, and the little junior brother also visited the Water Mansion as a guest. If Fallen Mountain kept pressing the matter, it would seem overly aggressive."

Bai Ye smiled and let it go.

Jun Qian continued, "The most critical point is that Little Grain herself would feel uneasy about it. The more Fallen Mountain did, the bigger the mess it created, and the more it became a public spectacle, the more she would fall silent when she was alone in the mountain. She has a timid heart, thinking the outside martial world is too dangerous, which makes her afraid to go out. But there’s a difference between being afraid to go out and simply being unwilling to go out—it’s a matter of state of mind. So the little junior brother actually considered many things in this matter. He had to grasp the proper measure and couldn't act too one-sidedly. You know, from the very beginning, Little Grain wanted to hide this whole storm, pretending nothing had happened. It was only by chance that Pei Qian bumped into it. In fact, Little Grain always wanted to say something, but she was afraid she wouldn’t say it well, worried that it would make Pei Qian and the others sad, so she kept it bottled up inside."

Bai Ye nodded. "That’s true. Putting oneself in another’s shoes is quite difficult."

From this, it could be seen that Bai Ye’s earlier remark that Chen Ping’an had protected her well was not wrong.

Jun Qian smiled. "Later, Zhu Lian used a metaphor for Little Grain, telling her a truth in a half-joking tone, which finally resolved Little Grain’s heart knot. It is said that after hearing it, Little Grain laughed heartily, rolled on the ground with joy, and felt that some of the old cook’s words had struck a chord deep in her heart."

Bai Ye asked curiously, "Can such a little girl’s heart knot really be untied?"

Jun Qian nodded, took out a jar of some unknown immortal vintage from his sleeve, and said slowly, "Yes. Zhu Lian first told her a story about the landscapes of his hometown to describe this storm. He said there was a woman from a prominent family in the martial world who was heartbroken by love. She made a certain heartless man’s family ruined and the man himself had a leg broken. After going through countless hardships, the man found her, his face covered with tears and snot, telling her about his miserable situation. The woman raised her willow-leaf eyebrows, gritted her teeth, and said, ‘You only have a broken leg and need a crutch, but my heart is shattered. Who is more pitiful?’ Little Grain felt her heart clench at first and asked the old cook if it was a true story. Zhu Lian said he just made it up, and only then did Little Grain feel relieved. Then Zhu Lian asked Little Grain if she was still angry. If she was, he would make that Water God Lady limp all the way to Fallen Mountain to apologize to her. Little Grain was startled and hurriedly made the old cook swear he wouldn’t do such a bad thing. Then Zhu Lian asked Little Grain: If we, Fallen Mountain, kept clinging to this matter, wouldn’t the Right Protector, who should have already moved on, keep it in her own heart forever? But she wouldn’t dare say anything, afraid of being misunderstood as ungrateful, so she simply dared not speak at all. Little Grain nodded vigorously. So Zhu Lian explained to her: When the returning Mountain Lord went to the Water Mansion to reprimand that Water God Lady for your sake, it wasn’t simply about revenge. Besides seeking the justice you deserved, he also wanted her and the entire Water Mansion to remember the lesson. That way, in the future, if there were any outsiders like Little Grain who walked through the territory of the Jade Liquid Water Mansion, no matter who they were, no matter their status or cultivation level, they would no longer be casually bullied. They would no longer dare to bully others relying on their power. So, you could say that Little Grain deserves credit. Your grievances and hardships were not in vain. If the young master hadn’t handled this matter properly, there might be many Little Grains in the Jade Liquid River region in the future. The Water Mansion would still make mistakes repeatedly. Even if they occasionally hit a hard wall, they wouldn’t think they were wrong in principle; at most, they would think their Water Mansion’s reputation wasn’t loud enough, or the Water God Lady’s fists weren’t strong enough. Little Grain, do you think that would be good? Little Grain shouted loudly: No good, no good! Zhu Lian laughed and said: So the young master taking you along to visit the Water Mansion last time had some depth to it. He neither furiously accused the Water God Lady nor lightly let it go. The young master, as it were, left one boot in the Water Mansion. Since one boot was left behind in someone else’s home, then sooner or later it would have to be retrieved. The Water God Lady and the Jade Liquid Water Mansion would have to be cautious. Last time Mountain Lord Chen didn’t lose his temper and didn’t make much of a fuss with the Water Mansion. So when he visits next time, might he settle old and new accounts together, punishing them for two crimes at once? Little Grain was full of admiration: Amazing, good Mountain Lord! A real old hand at the game, truly an old hand! Finally, Zhu Lian smiled and said: Little Grain, you’ve become a little timid now, not daring to wander outside Fallen Mountain as you used to. Do you think that Water God Lady dares to casually leave her temple and Water Mansion? Her courage isn’t even as big as a grain of rice. Besides us, I heard that her direct superior, Mountain Lord Wei, also gave her a hint, telling her not to overthink it—her crime wasn’t worthy of death. Little Grain, listen to that—isn’t it a smile hiding a knife, full of murderous intent? It scared that Water God Lady out of her wits. If the story only went this far, it wouldn’t be much. After Little Grain was happy in Zhu Lian’s yard that day, she mustered up the courage to sneak off to a small bamboo grove on Cloud-Bearing Mountain to count bamboos. As for what Little Grain talked about with Mountain Lord Wei, who hurriedly appeared, it seems they pinky-swore never to change for a hundred years—that’s a mystery."

Bai Ye laughed. "It’s hard on you to say so much in one breath. You’ve got the content, but what about the title?"

His good friend Jun Qian was not a loquacious person. In the old days when they traveled to famous mountains together, Jun Qian neither liked to talk about ancient events nor was willing to discuss much about literary pursuits.

Jun Qian said, "As long as one hasn’t reached the Fifteenth Realm, one can always have a leaf blocking the view."

Bai Ye adjusted his tiger-head hat and sighed, "The Fifteenth Realm, huh."

Jun Qian suddenly smiled. "I’ll take you to a village school. You can’t just eat melon seeds and dried fish for free—you’ll have to help little junior brother with a small favor."

Then Jun Qian shrank the earth and moved mountains, pulling Bai Ye into a clean study by a creek school. Jun Qian took out a manuscript, deftly flipped to a page. The book told a landscape story about a wandering swordsman and the big monster of Mute Lake who mistakenly entered a fairy mountain. The plot was that they met three Taoist masters, each with their own unique style, had a poetry contest with them, and won a great victory. Bai Ye looked around, guessed this was where Mountain Lord Chen taught, as Jun Qian spread the manuscript page open and told Bai Ye not to just stand there—come close and take a look.

Bai Ye walked over, glanced at it a few times, and wanted to stay out of it. But Jun Qian pressed down on his tiger-head hat and laughed angrily, "Where’s your martial world brotherhood? Get on with it! I’ll help grind the ink, so don’t even think about running away."

It turned out that the manuscript had a fairly long section about the poetry contest, but every time the young swordsman named Chen "recited a poem," the contents of all the poems on the pages were blank.

However, whenever the protagonist recited a poem, the three mountain immortals—originally wild spirits but fond of pretending to be refined—"heard" Young Master Chen’s impromptu, brilliant verses. The manuscript described in great detail how they went from initial dismissiveness to reluctantly hiding their contempt, to stroking their beards in silence, deeply shaken, to finally unable to hide their admiration, thinking him a divine being, and ultimately accepting defeat willingly... The descriptions were very thorough, not sparing words, so that Bai Ye and Jun Qian, turning the pages, could almost see the scene.

Could it be that Mountain Lord Chen had no talent for poetry at all? More than a dozen poems were left blank in the manuscript.

What’s so hard about writing a poem?

Jun Qian had already fetched an inkstone, dripping water and grinding ink on the side. Bai Ye shook his head. "I said I don’t write poems. That wasn’t a joke."

Jun Qian laughed. "Use your old poems."

Bai Ye said helplessly, "You know perfectly well that I have forgotten most of the poems I’ve written. Those I haven’t forgotten have mostly been compiled into poetry collections by busybodies and spread across the world. If I copy my own poems, what difference is there from Chen Ping’an copying my collection? He might as well copy some obscure poems from a less famous poet."

Jun Qian said, "I remember all your discarded poems. I’ll recite the content, and you just copy it down. But you’ll have to come up with the poem titles yourself."

Bai Ye flipped through a few pages of the manuscript at random, then turned to the latest chapters. He found that from beginning to end, it was all about the martial world swordsman and the big monster of Mute Lake—not Chen Ping’an writing about himself or occasionally, on a whim, imitating Vice-Leader Han of the Confucian Temple. Bai Ye recalled that earlier on the mountain, Little Grain had mentioned that the first time she went out into the martial world, she was looking for a passing scholar who owed her a story?

If not for Little Grain’s sake, Bai Ye wouldn’t want to do this. It was nonsense—no different from wearing two tiger-head hats at once, right?

Bai Ye sat down in a chair, took the brush Jun Qian handed him, pondered for a moment, and said, "I remember that during a visit to Mount Lu, I wrote two classical poems and a seven-character quatrain that were quite good."

Jun Qian reminded him, "Don’t come out with your peak poetic power right away. For the first few poems, hold back a little. For these twelve poems in total, the literary skill and power must progress gradually. Especially the final one—it has to live up to the astonishment and praise of those three immortals in the book..."

Bai Ye looked up. So much nagging—why don’t you write them yourself?

Jun Qian chuckled. "You’ve got quite a temper. If I were little junior brother, I’d be standing here holding a blue brick."

Before putting brush to paper, Bai Ye asked, "This viewing of the Dao owes Chen Ping’an a huge favor. How do we settle it?"

If Chen Ping’an had planned this all along, and he, an outsider, had jumped in first, the debt would be even greater.

Jun Qian recited an old poem, then said, "You are my good friend; he is my little junior brother. So let’s follow the old rule: I won’t take sides. You two can work it out yourselves."

Just as Bai Ye was about to write, Jun Qian suddenly said, "Senior Brother Cui once said that your cursive script has passable style—after all, your poetry reputation is there, and later calligraphers will always be willing to say some flattering insincere things. But as for that copybook of yours—whether it’s even an authentic work is questionable—Senior Brother Cui said that if he held a piece of charcoal picked up from a winnowing basket between his toes, he could write better than you. And little junior brother’s manuscript is written in a fine, delicate small regular script. Don’t embarrass yourself. If it’s really too much, let me do it? My small regular script is definitely a little better than yours."

Bai Ye was about to put down the brush. Write or not—he didn’t care to serve.

Jun Qian, imitating his own master’s trademark sigh, said, "Alright, alright, I won’t say any more. Go ahead and write your ghost-scribbling."

Bai Ye suddenly asked, "Did Cui Chan really say that?"

Jun Qian nodded with a smile. "Senior Brother Cui never exaggerates. If you don’t like hearing it, just bear it."

Bai Ye held back, but in the end, he couldn’t help it and muttered a three-word curse.

Jun Qian opened the window by himself, glanced at Bai Ye, who had finished writing one poem, and recited another old poem. He smiled, "It seems three children ran away from this school and transferred to the neighboring village school. No wonder our Little Grain said ‘how infuriating’."

Bai Ye lowered his head to "copy the poem" and asked casually, "How many children are there in this village school?"

Jun Qian smiled. "I think there are only just over ten in total. Fortunately, Ning Ji recently became a student, or else it might have been less than two hands’ worth."

Bai Ye chuckled at this.

The embarrassing things about us scholars are not worth telling outsiders.

In the mountain, the three brothers who had originally planned to just have a small private drink, but once Bai Deng finally learned who the burly man on the mountain top was, and who the young man in the tiger-head hat was...

Once this drinking started, it couldn’t be stopped.

Now the three of them had become fast friends and sworn brothers, with seniority based on Dao age: Bai Deng, Zeng Cuo, and Gao Geng.

Bai Deng talked about his clan’s glorious past three thousand years ago. Silver Deer talked about how his ancestors in the fairy city of Zhizhen in the Wildlands had been wealthy and powerful. Gao Geng also spoke of the intrigues at Qinggong Mountain—how everything seemed glorious on the surface but was full of grievances inside. He said that the position of sect master of the lower sect had been within his grasp; his master had even agreed. But his respected senior brother and beloved senior sister secretly obstructed him, preferring to give it to an outsider rather than to their junior brother... All of them talked about their own sorrows. As they drank with gusto, Gao Geng asked if they should call Chen Lingjun over to drink. The other two, already half-drunk, instantly sobered up a little and told Gao Geng to restrain himself—don’t be impulsive.

When the topic came to changing his name to "Zeng Cuo" and his courtesy name to "Ri Zhang" (Sun Bright), Gao Geng and Bai Deng were full of admiration and praise. One said that Fellow Daoist Silver Deer truly had genuine talent and learning; the other said that it was indeed the way of the gentleman to be hidden and yet grow more manifest daily—the gentleman’s profundity is deep and hard to know, but when faced with affairs, it becomes daily more evident, and he does not yield what is right...

Silver Deer looked awkward, wanting to say something but stopping. In the end, he didn’t tell his two sworn brothers the truth. Earlier, when the young Hidden Official had imprisoned him, he had to write something every day. The latter often came to inspect the content, telling Silver Deer that since he was now a half-baked family head, he should adopt the attitude of "do one line, love one line, every line can produce a champion." Every day, he was to write as many essays as possible, regardless of length; the most important thing was sincerity of heart, and every character must not be dealt with carelessly...

The green-clad boy and the pink-skirted girl lived not far from each other.

That night, having no wine to drink and no mind for cultivation, Chen Lingjun sat on the steps, dazed. Suddenly, he stood up, sneaked to pick up a pebble from the courtyard, and threw it at the other house, landing it on the roof. The pebble rolled and made a sound. Soon, the clumsy girl’s reprimanding thought-sound came: "Chen Lingjun, are you annoying or what?!" Chen Lingjun looked confused and replied with thought-sound, "Nuanshu, what’s wrong with you? You can’t just misunderstand people like that! Did we have a thief?" Nuanshu said angrily, "If you keep being so boring, I’ll tell the Mountain Lord tomorrow!" Chen Lingjun was afraid of nothing except this threat of tattling. So he had to explain himself sheepishly, "I was just flipping through a spiritual secret manual specializing in water techniques in the yard, and when I reached an insightful part, I couldn’t help but imitate it and tried a Dao technique that wasn’t fully mature yet..." Before Chen Lingjun could finish, the hot-tempered clumsy girl started scolding again: "Go ahead, keep making up stories! You’d better make up the name of the Dao book and the Dao technique content too!"

Fortunately, Jiang Shangzhen happened to be sitting on the roof of his own mansion. He asked with a smile, "Nuanshu, Jingqing, what are you arguing about?"

Nuanshu curtsied to Chief Zhou and went back into her room. On her desk were ledgers recording trivial expenses. She had no time for that idle Chen Lingjun.

Chen Lingjun tapped his toe and floated over to Chief Zhou’s roof. A bit embarrassed, he lowered his voice and said, "Chief Zhou, girls nowadays are so fierce—how will they ever get married, right?"

Jiang Shangzhen lay back, his head resting on a jade porcelain pillow, his hands folded over his belly, smiling. "I think Nuanshu won’t have trouble finding a husband."

Chen Lingjun changed the subject. "Since the long night is endless and I have no mind for sleep, why isn’t Chief Zhou drinking?"

Jiang Shangzhen looked up at the sky with open eyes, smiling faintly. "I was thinking—the chaotic mountains high and low, the clouds hanging at their feet. It looks like a torrential rain is coming. As a sword immortal, should I take shelter under the eaves, or should I go out carrying a big bucket in one hand and a big washbasin in the other to catch the rain?"

Chen Lingjun was completely confused but wouldn’t show weakness. He started talking nonsense. "That’s easy! If rainwater could be used as money, I’d be filling every pot and pan in the yard!"

Jiang Shangzhen laughed. "Mountain Lord Wei does have some skill. If I were a mountain lord, the best divine title I could come up with would probably be ‘Spiritual Moisture’."

Actually, in Jiang Shangzhen’s view, if Wei Po of Cloud-Bearing Mountain had chosen the title "Spiritual Moisture" for himself, it wouldn’t have been a bad choice at all. In the short term, it would have brought greater gains than "Night Travel" because it fit the "Heavenly Time" that hadn’t occurred in ten thousand years. Of course, in the long run, "Night Travel" was probably more stable, bringing Dao benefits in a steady stream.

Chen Lingjun lay on the roof. Jiang Shangzhen suddenly reached out and grabbed the green-clad boy’s arm, smiling. "Jingqing, those sincere words I praised—about Longevity’s role as Law Overseer—in the drinking party, who leaked them?"

Chen Lingjun quickly sat up. He showed no guilt at all—instead, he was smug, crossing his arms and taking credit to Chief Zhou. "I had to beat around the bush and tell Little Grain, of course! Then let her, that little ear reporter, pass the message to our Law Overseer Longevity. Chief Zhou, think about it—how many years have you been single? Good looks, deep pockets—other than being a bit older, what fault can you find? No faults at all! Our Law Overseer Longevity is also single. Besides, she doesn’t seem the type to like smooth-faced immature young men. So, the two of you—man unwed, woman unmarried—why can’t you get together? For a man to chase a woman, it’s like crossing a mountain; for a woman to chase a man, it’s like a layer of gauze. I figure Chief Zhou is too shy to speak up. If by chance our Law Overseer has some interest, and she lets something slip to Little Grain, and I hear it, then I tell you... Hey, it’d be a done deal! A Law Overseer and a Chief—that’s a match made in heaven! Adding a layer of closeness!"

Even Jiang Shangzhen, who had seen great sights, was struck speechless for a long time. Trembling, he said, "Thank you very much. You’re so good at matchmaking—please, don’t do it again."

Chen Lingjun lowered his voice and asked, "What’s the matter? Is it not suitable? Or is Chief Zhou too picky, thinking our Law Overseer is too cold? Hah, that shows you don’t understand. Old Cook and Big Wind, those two lechers, both said something similar: In books, many cold-faced female warriors and aloof immortals, once their hearts are moved..."

His scalp crawling, Jiang Shangzhen quickly grabbed the green-clad boy by the neck and covered his mouth. "Please, Jingqing, I beg you, don’t say another word!"

In a nearby warm, lamplit house, Little Grain, who had come to visit, stood on a small stool, pressed against the window, ears pricked. When she could no longer hear the commotion, she turned and asked curiously, "Sister Nuanshu, is that really true?"

Nuanshu, who was flipping through account books, reached out and pressed down on her abacus, then spat in disdain.

Jiang Shangzhen released Uncle Chen’s mouth and asked, "Want a drink? I heard you’ve made a few new friends. Won’t you introduce me? Nod if yes, shake your head if no."

Chen Lingjun nodded eagerly like a chick pecking at rice. Only then did Jiang Shangzhen dare let go of him. He glanced at the nearby mansion—lights faint, behind closed doors, no finger-guessing game—could they really drink heartily?

Jiang Shangzhen laughed. "Looks like they’re drinking without you."

Chen Lingjun was stunned for a moment, then sighed. "It’s all your fault, Chief Zhou!"

Jiang Shangzhen was baffled. "How is it my fault?"

Chen Lingjun grinned. "Earlier, I accidentally mentioned money in front of those friends. Now they don’t dare to invite me for drinks anymore. If not yours, whose fault is it?"

Jiang Shangzhen smiled knowingly. "Yes, it’s really my fault."

Together, they floated down onto the bluestone road. Jiang Shangzhen clasped his hands behind his head, while Chen Lingjun swung his sleeves with a sharp snap.

Jiang Shangzhen smiled faintly. "Mandarin ducks entwining necks for a thousand years, flying side by side, happy, colorful feathers; zither and se harmonious for a hundred years, growing old together amidst mist and clouds. Those who have passed through sometimes envy you who have passed through."

Chen Lingjun didn’t tease Chief Zhou for once, and he immediately understood the different meanings of the two "passed through."

The green-clad boy said softly, "Little brother, I’ll drink a few more with you later."

Jiang Shangzhen nodded, then suddenly asked, "Brother Chen, what do you think about me voluntarily stepping down and letting Mr. Xiao Mo take over as Chief Guest?"

Chen Lingjun’s head instantly swelled to the size of a bucket. This was... a death sentence?!

I treat you as my own brother, and you want my head to buy wine?!

Where is the martial-world brotherhood in the wine bowl?!

Chen Lingjun’s eyes darted around. "Chief Zhou, I think you’re doing a fine job. Don’t step down. Being Chief Guest is not something anyone can do well."

Before Jiang Shangzhen could say anything, the green-clad boy took three steps as two, kicked open the gate of Bai Deng’s mansion, and put his hands on his hips. "Brothers! Drinking early morning wine in the dead of night? It’s a bit early, hahaha..."

At the foot of the mountain, the gatekeeper Daoist with a wooden hairpin licked his finger, using moonlight as lamplight to slowly turn a page. Late at night, few people—perfect for reading good books... forbidden books.

Sure enough, it was a "Military Science" book highly recommended by Chief Zhou. There were indeed many fights, many battlefields, all unheard-of erotic... proper combat, very well written, with a mix of reality and fiction, and occasional blank spaces with lingering aftertaste.

The warmth of the blue cotton Daoist robe, the rustle of turning pages, the wooden hairpin cherishing the water before the steps, where my heart is at ease is my home.

An unexpected pat on the shoulder nearly scared our guilty Daoist Xian Wei into sending his yin spirit on a distant escape.

Xian Wei, not caring if it worked, formed hand seals, muttered incantations, and used a Daoist technique said to stabilize the soul. He quickly turned around to find Big Wind standing behind him carrying a bamboo chair. Xian Wei complained, "What are you doing? Appearing and disappearing like a ghost—scared me half to death! You come back and take over as gatekeeper!"

Zheng Dafeng laughed, put the bamboo chair aside, and said, "You even know the Three Gates Locking Binding Method—can’t scare you to death."

Daoist Xian Wei was surprised. "The Daoist book I bought for a dozen copper coins from a street stall at the ferry—is it really not a scam?"

Zheng Dafeng said, "Of course it’s a scam, but it can’t scam you."

Xian Wei smiled, not taking it seriously.

Zheng Dafeng clasped his hands behind his head, crossed his legs, and slumped back in the bamboo chair. He shifted his buttocks, shivered, and muttered to himself, "Not a young, strong lad anymore—I actually feel the cold on my butt. In the old days, even on the coldest winter days, I’d lie naked in bed, warm as a stove, with a burning heart, no need for charcoal."

Xian Wei smiled. "A real man doesn’t brag about past glory. Big Wind, in this regard, you’re not as good as the old cook."

Old Mr. Zhu didn’t like to talk about his hometown affairs. According to what Little Grain had heard secondhand, Zhu Lian was known as an exiled immortal and a noble son in the martial world of Lotus Root Blessed Land.

Zheng Dafeng muttered to himself, "Full belly and warm clothes—Heaven does not fail me. No progress in learning—how can I face Heaven?"

Xian Wei smiled casually. "I imagine Heaven isn’t that stingy."

Zheng Dafeng chuckled, patted Daoist Xian Wei on the shoulder, and said, "Both of us are in the same boat—outsiders."

Xian Wei nodded, mistakenly thinking Zheng Dafeng meant he was poor at cultivating the Dao, while also mocking himself for not reaching the pinnacle of martial arts.

Zheng Dafeng glanced at the "military book" in Xian Wei’s hand. "The second volume?"

Xian Wei furtively looked toward the mountain path, and seeing no one, took another book out of his sleeve. Smiling, he asked, "Don’t want to read the first volume, just jump to the second?"

Zheng Dafeng took the book and started putting on the airs of a senior. "When reading this kind of military book about killing and fighting, the first and second volumes are pretty much the same. Your skill isn’t there yet—you’re still a bit off."

Fallen Mountain had a vassal peak called "Illumination Reading Mound."

Li Huai had his own private mansion there. Actually, he also had a private residence on Fallen Mountain, but his "maidservant" Wei Taizhen, who seemed very nervous there, looked pitiful with a pale face every day, so Li Huai simply moved here. At that time, Chen Lingjun had led the way. Along the way, the green-clad boy kept winking at him, making Li Huai quite embarrassed. He explained himself with thought-sound, but Chen Lingjun only said, "I understand, I understand." Li Huai was helpless. What the hell do you understand?

When Li Huai settled down at Illumination Reading Mound, Lin Shouyi and Dong Shuijing, along with Shi Jialei, who was temporarily staying in Peach Leaf Alley, also came to visit once. After all, everyone had a share of the mountain mansions.

But one of them was now the immensely wealthy Dong Bozhou, and the other was Lin Yupu, who considered money as dirt and mountain immortals beneath kings. Probably neither cared as much as Li Huai, who had dreamed of having his own big mansion since childhood.

The old pigtailed "petty calculator" seemed to have changed the most among the former classmates. But she was already a married woman with children, still a miser. When she heard that she also owned a mansion at Illumination Reading Mound, she made a special trip to look around, repeatedly asking how much such a big mansion was worth. According to the current market in her hometown of Huaihuang County, if she sold it to an immortal master, it would have to be priced in spirit coins, maybe even Small Heat coins. And if she didn’t live there, could she rent it out? The annual rent wouldn’t be small, right? And as the years passed, when she grew old and one day passed away, could she bequeath it to her family and children...

Listening to her babbling, Li Huai and the other two smiled, occasionally teasing Shi Jialei. But when they heard her last question, they all fell silent.

Shi Jialei stopped, looked at their expressions—these former classmates still looked so young. And sure enough, Lin the bookworm, who was handsome as a child, had grown even more elegant and refined. The usually silent Dong Shuijing had a certain masculine charm. Even Li Huai, who as a child was a sturdy, bare-bottomed boy often in tears, now had a scholarly air about him, like a proper young scholar.

The woman tucked her stray hair behind her ear and said softly, "You big men, is this proper? I’m not sad—why are you feeling melancholy for me? Tell me, were you all secretly in love with me? Lin Shouyi, Dong Shuijing, your liking for Li Huai’s sister—was that a cover? And Li Huai, your liking for Li Baoping—was that an act?"

Lin Shouyi and Dong Shuijing exchanged smiles. Rarely, they talked about Li Liu without cursing each other as cowards, like chicks pecking at each other.

Li Huai said helplessly, "Don’t talk nonsense. If Li Baoping hears you, she won’t bother with you, but I’ll have to suffer."

When they were kids, Li Huai’s underpants often got stuck in trees, and he’d crouch on the ground wailing, while the girl in the red cotton jacket had long since run away. Teacher Qi would come, probably so used to it that later he didn’t even bother asking why, and would just use a long bamboo pole to get them down. Little Baoping wasn’t old but had plenty of strength. Once, she threw Li Huai’s underpants to the very top of the tree, too high for the bamboo pole. The children gathered outside the school, heads together, offering some bad ideas. The usually reticent Dong Shuijing rarely spoke up, saying he could climb. Teacher Qi smiled and shook his head, saying, "Watch me." He picked up a stone, weighed it, rotated his arm a few times, and tossed it into the sky.

But he missed. The stone only passed through the treetops, making a rustling sound. The golden light filtering through the leaves scattered and shimmered on the ground.

The children, craning their necks, sighed. Teacher Qi had almost made it.

So Teacher Qi picked up another stone. This time, he hit the high branch, and the underpants floated down. Li Huai quickly put them on. On the way home, he was especially happy. Hah, this pair of pants today had a real adventure—like a kite. Halfway, he met his thin, not-very-pretty sister, who had come to take him home. Li Huai told her about his glorious exploit, saying he would wear these pants again tomorrow so he wouldn’t be afraid of that Little Baoping. Li Liu held her little brother’s hand, squinting and smiling, patiently listening to his bravado.

A child’s grievances always seem as big as the sky, making them cry their hearts out until their voices go hoarse.

But in a moment, the grievance disappears, like the house keys that children forever lose.

Tonight, Li Huai put down a book of sage wisdom, left his study and mansion, and walked all the way to a cliffside viewing platform, where a pavilion stood.

Recently, he had gathered some questions, wanting to ask Chen Ping’an for answers.

For instance, the saying, "The adept who has attained the Dao transforms externally but not internally." Li Huai could only understand the literal meaning.

Wei Taizhen arrived gracefully.

Li Huai, who had been lying lazily on a bench in the pavilion, immediately sat up. Wei Taizhen felt a pang of guilt—she had disturbed the master’s peace.

After sitting up, Li Huai smiled. "That Mr. Bai, who is known as the proudest man in the world, is now in Fallen Mountain. Do you want to meet him? If you do, come with me when I visit. But I can’t guarantee how many words you can exchange, or whether you’ll face the same closed door as Mountain Lord Wei."

He and Little Grain were close, and Little Grain thought Mr. Li was very impressive. Even the good Mountain Lord, who was so open-minded, seemed to have been affected by a small complaint from Mr. Li back then, so that now he "can’t get over that hurdle" and always wants everyone to think his cooking isn’t bad at all.

Sadly, apart from Little Grain and the old cook, no one on Fallen Mountain seemed willing to give a face-saving compliment.

Wei Taizhen shook her head vigorously. "Young master, I dare not meet Mr. Bai. I don’t need to meet him. Just knowing that I share the same mountain with Mr. Bai is already more than enough for this servant."

That was Mr. Bai! The only one in ten thousand years, Mr. Bai!

Taking the blue and matching the white, iron bones and soft sinews. When the poetry body arrives here, ice soul and snow soul.

Li Huai joked, "It’s a good thing I already drafted some flattering words."

Actually, Li Huai always behaved sincerely and respectfully with Wei Taizhen, afraid she would misunderstand him as a frivolous, slick-tongued idler, especially worried about ruining a woman’s most precious reputation. But back in his hometown, at Fallen Mountain, he could relax a bit. At Dayan Cliff Academy, Li Huai was a Worthy Scholar, and outside the academy, he was a disciple of the Literary Sage lineage, so he had to be careful about everything.

Seeing Wei Taizhen squint her eyes into crescent moons and cover her mouth with a giggle, Li Huai asked curiously, "What are you laughing at?"

Wei Taizhen smiled. "I was just imagining the young master flattering someone—it seems very amusing."

Li Huai blushed. "Let me tell you about my school days when I was young."

Wei Taizhen’s eyes lit up, and she was overjoyed. She quickly sat up straight, hands gently folded on her knees. "Yes, please!"

"This is a long story."

Li Huai thought for a moment, cleared his throat, and said, "Let’s start from when I first met Chen Ping’an. It was in an early spring when the grass was long and the orioles were flying. If I remember correctly, I was seven, and Chen Ping’an was fourteen."

Li Huai only learned much later, from White Swan, that on his birthday, in order for him to have a good meal, Chen Ping’an, who only learned about it at the last minute, snuck out and fished all night, complaining that Cui Dongshan hadn’t told him earlier.

But the next day, Li Huai himself forgot it was his birthday. He complained about always eating fish meat and fish soup—how boring! Chen Ping’an, how can you be a cook? Can’t we have something different? Braised chicken legs, stir-fried roe deer meat, a pot of stewed, tender pork knuckles...

Wei Taizhen hesitated, then whispered, "Young master, doesn’t the phrase ‘trees adorned with various flowers, grass lush and orioles flying’ refer to late spring?"

Li Huai hid the faint sadness in his eyes and smiled. "Because that spring was different. It was as long as the story I’m about to tell."

Within Lotus Root Blessed Land, in the Fox Kingdom, inside a small garden courtyard of Pei Xiang’s.

Xie Gou asked, "Since Old Mr. Zhu has returned home with Liu Xianyang and the others, why hasn’t he come to visit us?"

Chen Ping’an smiled. "He doesn’t have the face to come. On this trip home, he has to hide his head and tail, afraid to show himself."

He owed too many debts of love. The spittle of those women could drown him.

Pei Xiang nodded in agreement.

All the men and women who lived in the same era as Zhu Lian in the martial world were unfortunate. The men couldn’t beat that martial madman.

It was said that of the women who had seen Zhu Lian’s face, nine out of ten hated him. The tenth hadn’t met him yet.

Pei Xiang had long been inside the Blessing Land. The Fox Kingdom’s sealed status didn’t constrain her as its ruler, so she often went out for relaxation. She knew that now several river and mountain spirits were very "concerned" about Zhu Lian. One of them was a female martial arts grandmaster who had died at Zhu Lian’s hands in the Battle of the Southern Garden Kingdom Capital. They were once a wisp of true spirit that didn’t dissipate, favored by heaven and earth to become female ghosts, then transformed by incense and worship into deities. These "Goddesses" with temple titles had been hoping all these years that Zhu Lian, the noble son "who took nine-tenths of the world’s romance," would also come back to life like them.

Of course, it was so they could take revenge on that heartless, faithless man. They hated Zhu Lian to the point of grinding their teeth. Just mentioning his name would make them nearly break their teeth.

On the border between the Pine Music Kingdom and the Northern Jin Kingdom, within Cai Prefecture, there was an Autumn Qi Lake. In the center of the lake was a small, emerald-green hill with a Daoist temple called Great Wood Temple.

Not long ago, the area within a hundred li of this great lake had been put under martial law, with layers of checkpoints and secret posts carefully arranged.

Several painted pleasure boats were tied up at the shore. In fact, anyone who could enter the territory of Autumn Qi Lake—whether Qi refiner, martial artist, or magical spirit—didn’t need to take a boat to reach the island. So choosing to row a boat across the lake to the island was just for elegance and leisure.

Tonight, on Autumn Qi Lake, all thirty-plus islands, large and small, were brightly lit.

Chen Ping’an suddenly stood up. In an instant, his eyes turned a pure gold, staring at a certain "someone" in the central heavens of this blessed land. But he quickly returned to normal.

Longevity let out a faint sigh, her mood complicated. For a moment, she didn’t know how to comfort the young master.

Xie Gou had wanted to make a few sarcastic remarks, but remembering that she was now the second-ranked guest of Fallen Mountain, she pretended to be indignant on behalf of her mountain lord, stomping her feet and sighing.

The sable-hatted girl glanced at the Law Overseer, who was caught off guard and could only remain silent. Then she looked at her own performance—very appropriate, she thought. Hmph, in a few days, we’ll see who is higher in rank.

Chen Ping’an sat back down and smiled. "I told you so. Fate says eight feet, you can’t get one zhang."

Longevity smiled bitterly and said through thought-sound, "Young master, although it is sewing a wedding dress for others, since that person is him, it might still be barely acceptable?"

Chen Ping’an nodded, picked up his teacup, and said with a smile, "Let’s have tea, let’s have tea. Calm down, calm down."

The old temple master’s Lotus Root Flower Blessing Land, Fallen Mountain’s Lotus Root Blessing Land. Take one character from each: "Lotus" and "Flower"—that made "Lotus Flower." This was probably what they called "without coincidences, there would be no books."

That celestial phenomenon originated from the Heart-Imagine Temple in the capital of the Southern Garden Kingdom, like a sword light arcing, a rainbow crossing the sky. In an instant, it fell upon the central heaven and earth of the blessing land. It was as if, at the moment the celestial phenomenon touched the ground, the first sword immortal appeared out of nowhere. Even though Chen Ping’an had detected this celestial phenomenon at the first moment, the change was too fast, giving his talisman clone, whose eyes were nearly sore from strain, no time to carefully "observe the Way" before it became a done deal.

Guo Zhujiu kept his eyes downcast, thinking about something.

Pei Xiang had no idea what had happened.

Chen Ping’an, after a belated realization and some thought, had a guess. He said through thought-sound with a smile, "It must have been the old temple master’s doing, deliberately preventing me from getting this huge advantage. That’s fine—it puts my mind more at ease, so I can focus on the seclusion earlier."

Longevity nodded, but her tone carried a hint of complaint. "Since he already divided the Lotus Root Flower Blessing Land into four parts, that old Daoist really stretched his hand too far."

Chen Ping’an hurriedly put down his teacup, coughed, and said urgently, "Mustn’t say that. When you drink water, remember the one who dug the well."

In the Azure Underworld, under the bright moon and brilliant stars.

The old temple master snorted and said coldly, "What a fine family tradition! One after another, they all protect their own. Outsiders would be moved to tears."

Xiao Mo was about to take his leave and go to the Azure Divine Dynasty to find that sword immortal. He asked curiously, "What do you mean? Did someone on Fallen Mountain mention you?"

Don’t let there be any misunderstanding.

The old temple master said with a smile, "It was that woman, the incarnation of the gold essence copper coin’s matrix coin, brought out of the Sword Qi Great Wall by your mountain lord—Fellow Daoist Longevity. She complained that this poor Daoist stretched his hand too long and meddles too much."

Xiao Mo didn’t bother to ask for specifics. He simply asked, "Do you still have connections in the Lotus Root Blessing Land that you haven’t mentioned?"

The old temple master said, "How can I mention them? If I pull them up, I’ll leave holes. If I really did that, forget about raising the Lotus Root Flower Blessing Land to an upper-level blessing land—just to fill those big holes with landscape qi, the amount of spirit coins your Fallen Mountain would have to spend would be… not even coins, but the number itself would make some miser’s teeth ache. Just thinking about it would make his head as big as a dustpan."

Xiao Mo reached for a jar of Eternal Wine, held a white bowl in his hand, and smiled. "Why are you keeping a quarrel with our Law Overseer Longevity? We each serve our master. She is utterly devoted to our young master, so it’s inevitable that she says some less-than-comprehensive things. Consider my apology on her behalf. Stay a bit longer and drink another jar with me."

The old temple master nodded with a smile. "It’s been a long time since we met—a rare opportunity. One jar isn’t enough; let’s drink two more."

Xiao Mo looked at the little wine left on the table and smiled. "We’ve drunk enough. Let’s save it."

The old temple master said, "There’s plenty more in the cellar. Losing one or two jars is nothing."

Xiao Mo nodded. "I’m not as good as you at making wine, but I’ve never lost to you at drinking. I originally wanted to save you some face in front of your two disciples. But you asked for it."

The old temple master laughed heartily.

If Fallen Mountain’s mountain gate hospitality hadn’t been so attentive, even if Chen Ping’an had obtained one of the Lotus Root Flower Blessing Lands, well, wanting to raise it to medium or upper level? Sure, no one would stop you, the new owner, from spending money. But the spirit coin expenses would make this "Charitable Youth" miser truly see what it meant to throw down money without even hearing a splash. After finally managing to raise the blessing land’s rank, every time he visited his own blessing land, Chen Ping’an would feel a pang of heartache.

Otherwise, did Chen Ping’an really think that a landscape painting reduced to a white outline could truly be "touched with gold and color" just by spending a bit of money? No matter how many layers you brush on, the blessing land would soon peel them off like layers of red paint, and the inscriptions would quickly become illegible.

It’s like in your Mountain Lord’s hometown market: the commoners paste spring couplets on doors with rice paste. Normally, they stick for years without replacement. But these couplets on the blessing land, after just a little wind, rain, and sun, are like what strange books say: one year on the mountain is sixty years below. After just "one year" on the Lotus Root Blessing Land, the couplet will flutter off at a breath of wind.

After sixty years, the belatedly aware Mountain Lord Chen would have to either regard the willfully renamed blessing land as a chicken rib—no longer spending wasted money—or, if Chen Ping’an and Fallen Mountain wanted to truly fill that hole, no matter how many intimidating identities and titles he had gained since his mud-leg days, he would still have to come respectfully to this poor Daoist to pay homage, depending on my mood at the time. And remember to bring that green-clad boy along too. Let the little bastard first learn to speak properly, kowtow a few times, and then apologize. Finally, of course, you both would go back empty-handed.

Since you, Chen Ping’an, love to protect your people, you certainly wouldn’t want the green-clad boy to kowtow and apologize to this poor Daoist. That’s quite coincidental, because this poor Daoist holds grudges—no senior-like demeanor.

When you have a favor to ask and come to apologize, it’s your own doing. If we can’t reach an agreement, you leave disappointed. Isn’t that also your own doing?

Talk about money? Back then, the City Lord of White Emperor City personally visited Guandao Temple. The "price" he offered was high enough, but he, Zheng Juzhong, still left disappointed.

So, thanks to a few unintentional words from a certain little girl at the mountain gate, which happened to be particularly pleasant to this poor Daoist’s ears.

Thus, she invisibly saved Chen Ping’an and Fallen Mountain Spring House at least several thousand Grain Rain coins. Not only was it not a loss, but the future earnings from the blessed land would be incalculable in spirit coins.

Wang Yuanlu had really seen a great spectacle today.

Was this how you apologize? By drinking an extra jar of the host’s wine to settle a debt for someone else.

What he learned from Mr. Xiao Mo today was a lot. He would need to digest it well. He might find it useful in future journeys in the martial world.

He remembered that many years ago, the fake ancestor, Daoist Sun, had tricked him into drinking wine. Once drunk, Sun started pointing out the country’s heroes, criticizing heroes from all over. He once said that on the Bright Refinement side, there was a Cauldron Cave Master of Fallen Treasure Shoal, virtuous and highly respected, famously magnanimous and broad-minded, truly had the style of a mountain senior!

Daoist Sun was a fool. So you just had to take his words in reverse.

The old temple master said through thought-sound, "Regarding the sword immortal of Guandao Blessed Land, Bai Ye unintentionally got his hands on it."

Xiao Mo thought for a moment. "Since it’s him, it’s acceptable."

The old temple master asked, "Earlier, you only mentioned the candidate in your mind. What was Chen Ping’an thinking?"

Xiao Mo told the truth. "Me. Then Chief Zhou. Then the two disciples tied: Cao Qinglang and Guo Zhujiu."

The old temple master stroked his beard and smiled. "Just as I thought."

Xiao Mo removed the clay seal, eventually drank two jars of Eternal Wine, his face flushed red, belched drunkenly, and stood up unsteadily. He had drunk his fill of wine today. He reached out to steady himself on the table. "I’m leaving."

The old temple master stood up as well, his Daoist robe fluttering, the smell of wine completely dissipated. He smiled. "With nothing to do, it’s good to wander the mortal world with you."

What a waste! In ancient times, Taoist priests who brewed and drank wine considered it taboo to convert wine into spiritual energy—they had no wine etiquette. And then to dissipate the wine’s power right after drinking.

Xiao Mo patted the old temple master on the shoulder. "Brother Bixiao, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say for a long time. You, my friend, really have no wine etiquette."

The old temple master laughed. "Good wine friends and Dao companions are hard to find. Outside the table, how many in the world refuse a toast and take a forfeit? Xiao Mo, don’t force it. Spit it out."

Xiao Mo’s throat moved, his stomach churned, but he forced himself to swallow a big mouthful of wine.

Wang Yuanlu saw this and shivered involuntarily.

This scrawny Daoist understood again: This amiable senior Xiao Mo was stubborn and cared about face!

The old temple master showed rare signs of melancholy. He said softly, "Xiao Mo, you should have guessed that this opportunity in the Lotus Root Flower Blessing Land was originally a sword-path thread I tailored for you. In the early years, I thought it might help you take your sword path a step further. But I waited too long at Guandao Temple in the Eastern Sea, and I had to change the thread."

Xiao Mo smiled and nodded. "I guessed that long ago. As long as your intention was there, what does the outcome matter to you and me? Otherwise, do you think I forced myself to drink so much today just because the wine was good?"

The old temple master smiled. "Without one or two bosom friends, the mortal world is utterly boring."

Xiao Mo smiled. "Then next time, I’ll treat. I’ll invite you and the young master to drink together."

The old temple master turned his head and spat again.

Xiao Mo was helpless.

He rarely regretted that his sword art wasn’t high enough to hold the friend’s head down and make him drink.

The old temple master sighed. "Xiao Mo, the person you see now is not the same as the one who once existed."

Xiao Mo smiled. "I know he isn’t."

In the courtyard, Guo Zhujiu kept yawning. After asking his master’s permission, he went out alone to wander and see the scenery. Xie Gou, having hit it off with that "sister" Qiu Qing (who still had no Dao title), pulled the girl along to take a moonlit walk with Alliance Leader Guo. Luo Fumei wanted to stay a little longer, but Pei Xiang chased her away with thought-sound. Luo Fumei had to get up and follow her junior sister, accompanying the sable-hatted girl surnamed Xie out of the yard. She was full of regret, feeling that not having exchanged a single word with Mountain Lord Chen was not just a little loss—it was a huge loss!

Otherwise, she had already drafted a story. The outline was that Luo Fumei, young and ignorant, had engaged in a moonlit Dao discussion with the young Hidden Official one year, one month, and one night. She had been disrespectful and had offended Mountain Lord Chen. He had become furious and scolded her harshly. She was reprimanded, but she didn’t die—she survived!

In that way, within the Fox Kingdom, who would dare to be tough with her from now on? Forget about comparing cultivation levels—compare courage and audacity!

Pei Xiang smiled. "Mountain Lord, High Lord returned to Lake Mountain Sect this time and tried a yin spirit out-of-body travel. Compared to before, it could finally be considered a real long-distance journey. She traveled all the way to the outskirts of the Northern Jin Kingdom capital. I was actually following not far behind her yin spirit."

Cultivating a Golden Core—that is the true path. The first two earthly immortals in the history of the blessing land both came from the Pine Music Kingdom’s Lake Mountain Sect.

It was not only due to High Lord’s outstanding natural talent in Dao cultivation but also an intangible Dao reward given to Yu Zhenyi by this world.

From becoming a Qi refiner to forming a Golden Core, every step up the mountain path was a new vista.

That’s why, to this day, the Lotus Root Blessing Land had no specific cultivation level divisions.

Especially the mysterious yin spirit out-of-body travel—even Yu Zhenyi, when he reached the Nascent Soul stage, was still very cautious.

This rejuvenated enlightened man only passed on the full secrets orally to High Lord before his "ascension," leaving no written records within Lake Mountain Sect.

"I guess the reason High Lord didn’t dare to attempt yin spirit out-of-body travel earlier was that her master Yu Zhenyi hadn’t yet formed a yang spirit avatar himself, so he thought it was too risky. That master and disciple pair had no idea that yin spirit out-of-body travel for an earthly immortal is actually very simple. In the Bright Refinement realm, it’s a common thing. There’s no need to consult almanacs to pick auspicious days, and no taboo about not doing it in daytime."

Longevity said calmly, "We think it’s simple only because we have so much accumulated experience from our senior predecessors. They thought it was difficult because they started from scratch, figuring everything out by themselves. That’s genuine learning, the true family tradition passed down from founding a sect. To put it bluntly, if your Fox Kingdom didn’t have Fallen Mountain as its backing, in three or five hundred years—at most a thousand—you wouldn’t be qualified to compete with Lake Mountain Sect. At that time, even just three or five of the chair owners in Lake Mountain Sect’s Patriarch Hall, any one of them alone, could sweep the entire Fox Kingdom clean."

Pei Xiang’s face immediately turned ugly.

But since the other party was the Law Overseer Patriarch of Fallen Mountain, she could say nothing.

Chen Ping’an smiled to smooth things over. "What Fellow Daoist Longevity said is probably true, but it’s also true that your Fox Kingdom has Fallen Mountain as its backing."

Pei Xiang smiled charmingly, changing the subject to flattery. "Mountain Lord, it’s said that among the total seventy-two Blessed Lands in the mortal world, those that have reached the upper rank are precious few. And not all of them can form a Daoist embryo with the intelligence of a child. In any case, our Lotus Root Blessing Land is very fortunate. The woman formed by the convergence of mortal literary fortune earlier—was that a sign?"

Chen Ping’an nodded. "There are advantages and disadvantages. Either they oppose each other, making trouble, or they share the same goal, working together to increase and stabilize the world’s qi. But overall, even in the worst-case scenario—neighbors not getting along, unable to make money peacefully—the benefits still far outweigh the drawbacks."

Longevity smiled. "It’s definitely a good thing."

Any small blessed land, limited by its territory and the number of sentient beings, and belonging to different worlds, would not have a grand celestial phenomenon even if it were lucky enough to manifest a spirit.

In the center of the courtyard, a painting hung on a wall. It was a bird’s-eye view of the entire Autumn Lake. The lake lord, a beautiful woman, was the same one from "A Beautiful World," with long nails on her little finger.

Regarding this secret meeting that could determine the direction of a world’s situation, even the choice of venue alone sparked fierce debate. Some wanted to host it on their own mountain, to build a golden signboard and attract more Dao cultivation seeds. Others preferred to host it at another sect’s site, because they feared open conflict if talks failed. If immortals fought, the damage to their own temple’s spiritual qi and landscape fortune would take centuries to repair.

Finally, they chose Autumn Lake. As for what the self-proclaimed "Hengqiu Lake Lord," a templeless water goddess, thought—who knew?

Chen Ping’an asked with a smile, "Do you think Wei Liang will come down the mountain to greet?"

Longevity also asked, "Will High Lord leak the heavenly secret?"

Pei Xiang shook her head. "Hard to guess."

Although she was very unwilling, having gotten familiar with all sorts of people from Fallen Mountain, Pei Xiang had to begrudgingly admit one thing: guessing people’s hearts was not her strength.

Chen Ping’an placed his two fingers together, gently twisted, and "placed" the Daoist temple on the island in Autumn Lake before his eyes. He smiled. "Looks like it’s Zhu Lian’s handwriting."

Pei Xiang covered her smile with her hand. "It was carefully selected and collected characters, the painstaking work of that temple master."

Chen Ping’an clicked his tongue. "I see, I see. No wonder, no wonder."

Yet another love debt from the noble son Zhu Lian.

Pei Xiang asked cautiously, "Mountain Lord, are you worried that High Lord might use this meeting to cause the entire world to become estranged from Fallen Mountain in spirit, or even openly become our enemy?"

Chen Ping’an smiled but said nothing.

Law Overseer Longevity smiled. "Children playing house. Sand and mud are everywhere, easy to play with—they can toss things around. But toys like feather shuttlecocks, bamboo dragonflies, carrier toys, kites, tops, rattling drums, picture books, wooden swords, bamboo knives—don’t the adults have to prepare those for them?"

Pei Xiang smiled awkwardly, but inside she was terrified. For a moment, she didn’t know how to respond.

Just like the earlier awkward silence, Pei Xiang now detected an almost suffocating pressure.

The last time she had felt something similar was when she left the Fox Kingdom and first attended a Patriarch Hall meeting at Jise Peak, the moment she crossed the threshold.

Two chairs away sat that tall woman, who seemed to smile at everyone all year round. Pei Xiang always felt she was sinister. She had never felt any closeness to this Law Overseer of Jise Peak. Every time they met in the mountain or at Zhu Lian’s yard, Pei Xiang felt like… in winter, picking up a cold copper coin with her fingertips—every extra word was like clasping the coin in her palm, and that coin was destined to never warm up.

Pei Xiang glanced covertly at the man in blue beside her. Fellow Daoist Longevity was indeed the Law Overseer, but Chen Ping’an was still the sect master.

But contrary to Pei Xiang’s expectations, he neither confirmed nor denied Law Overseer Longevity’s statement.

Pei Xiang immediately averted her gaze, sighing inwardly. Only at this moment did she truly understand the principle Zhu Lian had spoken of, along with its "annotations."

Seen up close, the scenery is not spectacular. People and events are all plain.

When the mountain lord was at Fallen Mountain, it was fine. But once the mountain lord went traveling again, all of them, inside and outside the mountain, must not fail to treat the Law Overseer Longevity as the mountain’s law overseer.

So in a sense, whether Longevity existed as such depended only on whether the mountain lord was in the mountain.

But woman is woman. After her palpitations, Pei Xiang began to wonder about something: Could it be that Longevity was in love with Chen Ping’an?

Unexpectedly, Longevity narrowed her eyes with a smile, her voice as gentle and sweet as ever, and spoke to Pei Xiang alone through thought-sound: "Whether I like Chen Ping’an or not—does that have anything to do with Fellow Daoist Pei Xiang?"

Pei Xiang, caught out, was so embarrassed she wished she could dig a hole and crawl into it. Would the other party hold a grudge, put it on the books? It seemed quite a few people at Fallen Mountain had that tradition!

Chen Ping’an snapped out of his thoughts. "Were you two just using thought-sound to talk about me?"

It turned out that a moment ago, ripples appeared on Chen Ping’an’s lake-like mind, a series of plops, but not any specific words. It was like a fish taking the hook after a bite. The hook was a name; the bait was the words of a cultivator related to him. As long as he lifted the fishing rod, he could see the true form of that fish, or a string of text.

He hadn’t intended to ask. But the two beside him—Law Overseer Longevity and Fox Kingdom Pei Xiang—had both very rarely called him by his full name. So Chen Ping’an couldn’t help but ask curiously.

Longevity leaned forward, then turned to look at the Fox Kingdom ruler. Smiling, she said, "Fellow Daoist Pei Xiang thinks High Lord of Lake Mountain Sect might like the young master. I think it’s unlikely, right?"

Pei Xiang quickly nodded in agreement.

Chen Ping’an laughed angrily. "What nonsense is this?"

Longevity smiled. "Who says it isn’t?"

Pei Xiang was bitter inside. What could she explain?

After all, according to Zhu Lian’s logic, if she traced that thread a little, she could easily come to a more startling conclusion.

When Chen Ping’an was home, Law Overseer Longevity retreated behind the scenes, obscure and invisible, the post of law overseer virtually nonexistent.

But when Chen Ping’an went traveling, she was the sole representative of the entire Fallen Mountain.

Our Mountain Lord is incredibly shrewd—he sensed the tension between Law Overseer Longevity and Pei Xiang, a bit of a dagger-drawn atmosphere. Since his cultivation level was temporarily insufficient for outsiders’ words to manifest into characters that lasted long, those two "fish" had already slipped the hook. By the time he lifted the rod again to chase them, Chen Ping’an suddenly understood. So that’s what they were talking about. What was there to hide?

On Fallen Mountain, besides himself as the master, who else could Pei Qian fear? Only Law Overseer Longevity.

So Chen Ping’an smiled and said, "Pei Xiang, your observation is not wrong."

Pei Xiang first felt as if struck by lightning, then quickly understood. Her expression was complex. Oh, Mountain Lord, what are you even saying?

Longevity’s face instantly flushed crimson. Tonight, though only drinking tea, it was like fine wine—like the scenery on the road here: a peach tree leaning on the east wind, cheeks turning light red, then deep red.

Fortunately, Mountain Lord Chen suddenly remembered something, which was no small matter. He turned his head and began asking Pei Xiang about a secret matter of the Fox Kingdom. But he didn’t directly explain why; instead, he beat around the bush, asking about the birth dates of Qiu Qing, Luo Fumei, and some young fox spirits. He only asked about those with good Dao endowment, or those born with some peculiar omen or good fortune, or those with deep blessings on the path. Though Pei Xiang didn’t understand, she answered truthfully one by one. As she watched the Mountain Lord extend his hand from his sleeve and make a fortune-telling gesture, Pei Xiang was curious. When did the mountain lord learn to read faces, tell fortunes, and calculate birth dates?

Law Overseer Longevity explained via thought-sound: "Pei Xiang. Some things are not exactly what you think."

Pei Xiang immediately replied with thought-sound: "From this moment on, I have heard nothing and know nothing!"

Law Overseer Longevity smiled. "That’s fine. No need to swear—I trust you."

Pei Xiang’s back went cold. Better to swear a poisonous oath. This was truly terrifying!

She decided that from now on, she would stay far from this Law Overseer, just to have peace of mind—if you have no guilty conscience, you don’t fear a knock at the door.

As long as she kept a respectful distance from this Law Overseer Patriarch, she should be fine. And when the mountain lord was not at Fallen Mountain, she would just stay in the Fox Kingdom.

Besides, she was the Fox Kingdom’s ruler; she had a seat in Jise Peak’s Patriarch Hall. This Law Overseer couldn’t possibly settle a private score, could she?

Chen Ping’an stood up. "I’m going to find Liu Xianyang and Gu Can. None of you need to follow, not even Xie Gou. I’ll be back within an hour, at most, and return to the Fox Kingdom quickly."

In an instant, his blue figure turned into dozens of condensed, thread-like sword lights, rising from the ground, cutting through the night sky, and disappearing in a flash.

Finally, at the canopy, it merged with the talisman clone, which no longer needed to observe the Way. The figure looked down at the mortal world, then tilted in a line toward the earth. During the descent, the blue shadow and sword light coalesced and scattered unpredictably.

When Chen Ping’an landed, he was once again a man in blue, appearing on a bustling capital street as if entering an empty realm. A person appeared out of thin air on the street, but passersby were completely oblivious.

Coming up behind the two men who were surrounded by high towers and vermilion sleeves, with the scent of face powder stronger than wine, Chen Ping’an clicked his tongue. "What cowards! Just going for some wine and pleasure."

Gu Can turned to look at Chen Ping’an, then sneered, jerking his chin toward Liu Xianyang beside him. "I don’t care. Someone’s got three legs and all of them are scared."

Seeing Chen Ping’an, Liu Xianyang’s eyes lit up, and instantly he became heroic. If he got caught later, Gu Can probably wouldn’t help, but wasn’t Chen Ping’an famously reliable for such things? Liu Xianyang first hooked an arm around Gu Can’s neck, then grabbed Chen Ping’an, holding one arm over each of these "brave" ones. He strode forward, laughing heartily. "Come on, let’s drink! Gu Can is paying, and Chen Ping’an is keeping us company. Poor me, so righteous, but today I’m done for. The two of them dragged me by force, threatening that if I didn’t drink, we wouldn’t be friends anymore. Truly, I have no choice but to go..."

Gu Can, head bowed, glanced at the equally compromised Chen Ping’an. Chen Ping’an gave him a look: Don’t rush—just wait and see. Him? Even if they lent him three pairs of balls, he wouldn’t dare go in.

Sure enough, after being "pulled" to the "tavern" door by his two friends, Liu Xianyang walked slower and slower, then stopped, stomped his foot, let go, turned around, and walked away. His back looked lonely and pitiful.

Chen Ping’an smiled and followed. Gu Can sprinted, leaped, and kicked Liu Xianyang square in the ass, cursing with a laugh, "With that cowardice, you still pretend to be a big shot with me?!"

Liu Xianyang staggered, brushed off his butt, turned around, and jerked his chin toward the grinning man with his hands in his sleeves. Before he could defend himself, Chen Ping’an nodded vigorously. "Right, right, yes, yes. If not for considering me, you would have gone in long ago. You’d be nestled among the red sleeves, drunk and unwilling to stop, sitting in the flower midst full of righteousness. But actually, you’d be on pins and needles. Finally, when the party ends, you’d walk out, stand on the street, look back, and tell yourself, ‘I came, at least.’"

Gu Can pretended to be surprised. "No way! Doesn’t Master Liu at least stay for the night?"

Liu Xianyang was already walking away with big strides, raising both hands and giving two middle fingers.

Chen Ping’an suppressed his laughter, and at almost the same time, he and Gu Can said, "I’ll find a place." / "I’ll pay."

Liu Xianyang turned his head and grumbled, "Why are you walking so slowly? Chen Mute, Little Snotty, why don’t you walk with three legs?"

The three, from the same hometown though of different ages, no matter what kind of people they had become, whether or not they were what they once thought themselves, they were still as close and sincere as in the old days.