Chapter 1082: A Heavy Snowfall
Amid the mountain flowers, clad in white and brewing wine, the azure-clothed Chen Ping'an who had arrived later picked up the bowl of sorghum wine on the table, took the initiative as if he were the host, stood up and took a sip, then smiled as he looked toward the female cultivator from the Wildlands whose mind and soul were both imprisoned here. To his surprise, she was also one who had stolen techniques from a hundred homes and learned from a hundred masters—truly a treasure found. It was quite appropriate to address her as "fellow Daoist." He asked, "Fellow Daoist, state your name and tell us your splendid story, so we can use it as an accompaniment to our wine."
The female cultivator had no way to conceal anything, nor could anything be blocked. The two figures, one standing and one sitting, in azure and white, saw through every aspect of her mindscape without omission, observing with crystal clarity. This was because a revolving lantern scene related to her life experiences had already appeared on the mountaintop. Memories of profound events were depicted as colorful paintings like real living beings; those that were vague were rendered as gray portraits; and those where memory and reality were blurred presented chaotic and disordered images. It turned out her alias was Xu Jiaoqie, her true name among the demon race was Xiao Xing, her Daoist name was Youren, and her master affectionately called her Xiaogeng. Her true form was a type of ancient bird not recorded in texts, which delighted in carrying flames as it flew across the human world. Hence, she initially specialized in fire techniques. She wore a green feather robe shaped into human form and refined from a celestial molting, which the preacher had named "Grand Aspect."
The white-clad Heart Demon said with schadenfreude, "Truly an ill-omened bird. This malicious and long-laid scheme of undeserved calamity almost succeeded thanks to Miss Xiao."
Chen Ping'an, with a jade hairpin and golden eyes, smiled. "A Nascent Soul realm deathsworn who, after having her memories reshaped, could be utterly loyal to Falling Mountain—along with a robe of half-immortal weapon rank, plus the methods of the Eyebrow Penciler and the Tailor, and the chance to learn a secret art from a Wildlands Sacrificial Official—this is a deal with a thousandfold profit, a full basin filling."
The white-clad Heart Demon snorted dismissively. "Such dark and shady means can only deal with Qi refiners one realm below oneself. Hardly a superior method."
The azure-clothed Chen Ping'an took a sip of wine, his expression playful as he stared at the Wildlands female cultivator, whose face was ashen as if mourning her parents. "With the Grand Aspect robe combined with the Eyebrow Penciler's surface and the Tailor's interior, plus our meticulous control and careful assembly of details, who below the Flying Ascension realm could she not imitate so perfectly as to become that person? Quite coincidentally, when one feels drowsy and wants to sleep, someone delivers a pillow. Han Yushu of the Wanyao Sect has been missing for a long time. If we delay further, relying only on the corpse of Sect Leader Han that Jiang Shangzhen holds, I believe it won't be hidden for long. After all, paper cannot wrap fire; the Three Mountain Blessed Land will soon notice something amiss. But if Miss Xiao, with her decent acting skills, goes to Mount Tianmu Academy and puts on a play with Vice Principal Wen Yu, perhaps the Wanyao Sect's ancestral hall can be temporarily reassured? How about being even more ruthless and directly sending Miss Xiao to the Three Mountain Blessed Land to… take over the nest? A deathsworn is a deathsworn wherever they are."
Xiao Xing had outstanding talent in cultivation. As far back as she could remember, she seemed to learn everything quickly, and due to some unknown relationship, there were no major obstacles to learning anything, nor any worry about biting off more than she could chew. Within less than sixty years, she had learned everything a single sect could offer, so she began to descend the mountain for training, preferring to wander the world for years, collecting unofficial histories and various anecdotes from all over. In particular, she delved into and mastered the Wildlands Water Cloud Script created by Zhou Mi, because she aspired to compile a "Explanation of Script and Words" for the Wildlands World. When the war started, she was not yet a hundred years old and was at the bottleneck of the Nascent Soul realm when she was conscripted by Mount Tuoyue. There was no escape; her sect tried to pay to avert disaster but to no avail. The overly self-confident Xiao Xing’s first battle saw her caught in the residual sword qi of Ning Yao, nearly dropping a realm. Probably to this day, Ning Yao doesn’t even know there is such a demon earth immortal as her.
The white-clad Heart Demon, hands tucked into his sleeves, smiled and said, "Miss Xiao is truly a tragic figure. She schemed for revenge, willing to sacrifice her life and Dao, yet her enemy doesn’t even know who she is, not even qualified to be remembered. So she has to vent her anger on others. After all, Miss Xiao hasn’t been completely blinded by hatred; she knows in her heart that she can never take revenge on Ning Yao in this life. That one is the rightful number one under heaven, no ordinary Flying Ascension sword cultivator can compare."
The azure-clothed drinker showed an expression of admiration. "Miss Xiao took a very correct and effortless shortcut, killing two birds with one stone. If she hadn’t been exposed today, when she closes up to break through the Nascent Soul bottleneck, she wouldn’t have to face the inevitable invincible heart demon Ning Yao."
The white-clad Heart Demon smiled. "A hundred-year-old Nascent Soul? An ordinary genius?"
The azure-clothed drinker sighed. "What nonsense are you talking? Definitely a genius."
Xiao Xing, outside the scroll of her life, was like a naked woman being freely judged by others.
After that, the images showed Xiao Xing landing on Tongye Continent with the Guiyou Tent. While recovering from injuries and deeply hating Ning Yao, she shuttled between the libraries and archives of various kingdoms in Tongye Continent, collecting many rare ancient editions from the Haoran World. The "maiden cardamom" who carried a saber but was actually a sword cultivator was a close friend of many years. The sword cultivator Doukou's natal flying sword was "Vicious Ghost." She went on a killing spree in Tongye Continent and broke through to Nascent Soul there. Before Tongye Continent completely sank, the two parted ways, and her friend Doukou vanished without a trace. Xiao Xing used a secret sect technique to hide her realm and cultivation, disguised as a mortal, and followed the refugees into the Lotus Flower Blessed Land to take shelter. Using the abilities of a Sacrificial Official similar to the Observatory's Qi-watchers, she deduced the lingering Dao connections between the Lotus Flower Blessed Land and Falling Mountain, and lay in wait there. Since Chen Ping'an was Ning Yao's Dao companion, and she couldn't go to the Five Colors World where Ascension City was located, she decided to use all her knowledge and techniques to severely damage Chen Ping'an's foundation and interrupt his Dao path. Xiao Xing thought that this would be more effective than any loss to destabilize Ning Yao's Dao heart. Earlier, Chen Ping'an had called her a deathsworn, hitting the mark precisely. Xiao Xing had no intention of returning home alive. Using her own life as the price, she would cut off the path of the last Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall to the summit, making Ning Yao regret that one strike for the rest of her life, forcing her to remember the name Xiao Xing forever. What greater revenge joy could there be under heaven?!
The white-clad Heart Demon sighed. "Sure enough, when luck hits rock bottom, it must turn around. Just pulling on a loose thread can bring an unexpected surprise."
The azure-clothed drinker was like an ancient deity, spotless, flawless, and without omission. "Sword cultivator Doukou. Good. I’ll remember you."
As he spoke, the scroll of Xiao Xing's life seemed to flow backward in the river of time, pages rustling as they flipped back. The azure-clothed drinker reached out and traced the image of the young saber-wielding sword cultivator Doukou into a hanging portrait, which he tucked into his sleeve. If she was one of the troublemakers behind the scenes in Tongye Continent, then that would be quite interesting. Taking them all out in one go could save a lot of trouble, and even that elusive Golden Core talisman cultivator could be caught together.
The final content of the scroll showed how she had set things up in this Lotus Blessed Land: opening a bookshop in the city, hiring workers to carve and print books day and night—mostly extremely scandalous tales of strange beings and talented scholars—then selling them at a loss, which had cost her much of her savings. Unexpectedly, Xiao Xing was carrying several dried corpses of plague gods on her person, and she was also a mountain physician skilled in alchemy and herbal medicine.
"Truly a genuine genius. No wonder Mount Tuoyue had to conscript a Nascent Soul realm cultivator to leave home and visit the Haoran World."
The azure-clothed drinker set down the empty bowl and praised, "Now I’m only curious about one thing: who first encouraged Miss Xiao to enter the Lotus Flower Blessed Land? I don’t believe you noticed this opportunity from the start. There must have been an expert pointing the way. You only confirmed it through the Sacrificial Official’s methods before deciding to become a deathsworn."
Xiao Xing looked dazed.
Clearly not a pretense.
The azure-clothed drinker lightly clapped his hands. "Fei Ran? Zhou Qinggao? Or did both shun birds meet with Xiao Xing?"
When he spoke those two names, Xiao Xing’s mind buzzed and her spirit and soul seemed to be violently pulled back and forth tens of thousands of times in an instant. She shook like a sieve, trying to sift out a grain or two of gold from the deepest river sand of human memories. But this process was agonizing for Xiao Xing. The white-clad Heart Demon smilingly warned that if the screening continued like this, she would become an idiot. The azure-clothed drinker sneered that Old Sword Immortal Qi had a good line: "Young people, be careful in your next life."
Whether public enmity or private grudge, whether seeking to contend with someone or take revenge, it didn’t matter—just use every means at your disposal and let abilities decide the outcome.
But who gave you the nerve to curse Ning Yao?
Sure enough, from the deepest memories of Xiao Xing’s most inconspicuous aperture and Qi mansion, two "grains of gold" were sifted out. The troublemakers behind the scenes were exactly Fei Ran and Zhou Qinggao, who were truly impossible to shake off.
Fei Ran used a flying sword and secret techniques to sever the Dao marks, looking at the woman whose eyes were blurry between reality and dream, making her mistakenly think that the idea of entering the Lotus Flower Blessed Land to take a roundabout revenge through Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao was her own. Fei Ran said to himself, "Daoist Youren, I have no choice but to erase these traces. My apologies. You definitely won’t remember meeting us, nor need to remember this encounter. But it might not always be so. I only hope you never have the chance to recall today’s events."
Beside him, Zhou Qinggao moved his lips without sound. From the mouth shape, he was saying in Great Li official language, "Hidden Official Chen, I still hope Miss Xiao can remember this matter one day. I look forward to our next meeting in the Wildlands to go over it again."
The white-clad Heart Demon laughed. "These two fellows are even more fixated on you than a lovesick woman. I reckon that if you were willing to defect from the Haoran World, Brother Fei would be willing to give up the position of shared master of the world, and Brother Zhou would be more than happy to be your vanguard."
The azure-clothed drinker paid no attention, reaching out a finger to gently spin the white bowl. "Having seen Miss Xiao’s moving and stirring story, and finished the wine in the bowl, now it’s my turn to play host. I’ll return you a bowl of wine and weave you a splendid landscape story."
Xiao Xing shrieked, "No!"
The next moment, inside the green pavilion, Jiang Shangzhen witnessed a scene that almost gave him goosebumps. The Wildlands female cultivator, who had been dazed and listless for only a moment, "awoke" as if from a deep sleep, well-rested. She gently shook her head and looked towards that white-robed Chen Ping'an with pure golden eyes. Her first words were, "Mountain Lord, shall I be the one to search for the trace of that demon beast?"
Jiang Shangzhen was dumbfounded.
How was this done?
Controlling a Nascent Soul cultivator with another Nascent Soul cultivator?
Cultivators were already far more resilient than ordinary people in mind and nature, let alone a successful earth immortal? Simply tampering with the memories of a Qi refiner of significantly lower realm was already extremely difficult; without a gap of two or three realms, there was no chance. Moreover, a great cultivator needed many secret techniques to achieve such a feat and dare to do such a ruthless thing. Just the first hurdle of "gouging out" memories by cutting the complex threads and branches, then filling and replenishing the memories seamlessly with the old state of mind, making all thought processes reasonable, was an even higher hurdle. If not done carefully, the Dao heart, born of nature, might sense something wrong, leading to catastrophic collapse of the small human world within. The cultivator would either become a fool with their mind reduced to ashes, or easily fall into demonic possession—this was a natural resistance that would rather destroy everything than yield. And this not-inconsiderable Wildlands female cultivator, a Nascent Soul realm who dared to enter the Lotus Flower Blessed Land to cause trouble, was undoubtedly strong in Dao heart.
Jiang Shangzhen knew he couldn’t accomplish such a feat. Even the Flying Ascension old man Xun probably couldn’t.
Chen Ping'an looked up at the railing on the second floor and said with a smile, "Chief Zhou, I’ll take my leave then."
Jiang Shangzhen was speechless.
Following Mountain Lord Chen’s gaze, the woman turned her head to look at that azure-robed scholar with graying temples. She turned and clasped her fists, her brows and eyes lively, and introduced herself via heart voice: "My name is Xu Jiaoqie, an unregistered disciple of Old Deaf One of the Sword Qi Great Wall. Back then, I was instructed by the Hidden Official to leave home first and secretly infiltrate Tongye Continent. Actually, this is my second meeting with Chief Zhou, but given my identity as a spy, I was wary of Wildlands deathsworn causing trouble here, so it wasn’t appropriate to greet Chief Zhou at that time."
Jiang Shangzhen awkwardly replied, "Good, good. Hard work, hard work."
As he was about to leave, Chen Ping'an sent a heart voice with a smile: "Chief Zhou, a doppelganger of mine will soon find you. He will take you and Xu Jiaoqie to a well. That well is a line left by the Old Observer. If all goes well, you can enter Mirage City of the Great Spring Dynasty through this path. If it’s an interconnection like a return to the void, then you can return to the Blessed Land. If it’s one-way, Chief Zhou, please kindly go to Fish Scale Ferry in Cloudrock Kingdom and handle the matters there. Also, hand-deliver a letter to Wen Yu. I have a favor to ask. If Wen Yu agrees, then perhaps Xu Jiaoqie will need to use Han Yushu’s immortal corpse. If Wen Yu thinks it’s inappropriate, then forget it; no need to force it."
Normally, such a fragrant affair of traveling the rivers and lakes with a beauty would make Jiang Shangzhen never refuse—frowning would be a sign of slack. But at this moment, no matter how he looked at Xu Jiaoqie, she gave him the creeps. Red sleeves adding fragrance? This woman was scarier than mountain wild ghosts. Still, it was the duty of the chief retainer, so Jiang Shangzhen had no reason not to make the trip to Mirage City and Fish Scale Ferry. When the white-robed Chen Ping'an vanished into thin air, Xu Jiaoqie clearly received the Mountain Lord’s instructions and clasped her fists to Chief Zhou. The dignified, voluptuous woman was tall and slender, with gentle brows and eyes, as affectionate as meeting a lover. But Jiang Shangzhen, a veteran in the flowery fields, knew she was using some kind of heretical charm technique. To others, she appeared like a newly married bride, seductive and alluring, hesitant to speak.
One of the doppelgangers as the Blessed Land observer, after leaving the sect where Xiao Xing's talisman puppet belonged, traveled the four corners of the Lotus Flower Blessed Land. He found four newly born native sword cultivators one after another, reasoning with them and appealing to their emotions, and eventually persuaded two to go see the scenery "beyond the heavens." Chen Ping'an made a gentleman’s agreement with them: where they would settle in the future and whether to return home were up to them, but before making a decision, they had to visit Falling Mountain or the Fox Kingdom to inform.
One was a well-bred young lady from a major county in the capital of Nanyuan Kingdom. Mad about frontier fortress poetry and sword immortals in books, her wish came true; she had previously thrown a bright red short sword from her palm.
The other was a bearded hero riding a donkey with a sword on his back. Previously, he had been drinking heavily on the donkey’s back, swaying, and a burp of wine breath turned into a pitch-black sword pellet.
The woman was named Mai Qing. She had been worried about a marriage arranged by her parents and was happy to go out to clear her mind, so she left a letter and sneaked out.
The hero was called Geshu Longshang, from a family of generals. Once a frontier general in the previous dynasty of Beijin Kingdom, he had a falling out with the new emperor Tang Tieyi, so he resigned and traveled afar.
Previously, one rode a donkey, the other flew by wind, and they chatted congenially all the way to discussing how to change the current phenomenon of learning being abandoned and the Dao lost in various countries.
On the journey, there were questions and answers.
A white bowl and wooden basin, porcelain bottles and earthen jars—could they really create a world and contain a thousand miles of mountains and rivers in a small space?
They could.
Turtle shells and yarrow stalks, broken tiles and stones—could they truly tell good fortune and calamity and determine one’s fate by calculation?
Not necessarily.
The woman, full of questions but perhaps thin-skinned, only asked one.
How many cultivators like Sword Immortal Chen are there outside? A handful?
There are heavens beyond heavens and people beyond people. Land immortals are neither many nor few.
As for the woman from beyond the grasslands and the young Daoist from the Millennium Autumn Temple in Yuezhou of Songlai Kingdom, they politely declined the offer of "Sword Immortal Chen" and chose to stay in their homeland.
One asked if the gentleman was married. One asked if he belonged to the Daoist school.
This was where conversations became too disagreeable to continue even half a sentence.
Chen Ping'an's observer doppelganger in the blessed land used a celestial technique of "a pot containing the sun and moon" to send the woman and the hero to this side, handed them over to Jiang Shangzhen, and then returned to the celestial dome.
So this journey, Jiang Shangzhen really had to nestle among the fragrant silks and powders. The Mountain Lord truly understood me.
But when Mai Qing heard the other party call himself Zhou Fei, she was so frightened that her beauty paled. Zhou Fei of the Spring Tide Palace? What was the difference between that Sword Immortal Chen and a swindling merchant who abducted women?
Jiang Shangzhen had already prepared. Composed, he smiled and explained that he only shared the name with Zhou Fei. In fact, he and that thief Zhou of Spring Tide Palace had an irreconcilable blood feud. He deliberately used the alias Zhou Fei to lure him out and fight to the death. Until this revenge was taken, he wouldn’t consider himself a man. Looking at the azure-clothed man with a sorrowful expression but determined eyes, the inexperienced girl believed him. Beside her, the bearded hero frowned slightly—was this a honeytrap?
Jiang Shangzhen summoned a talisman boat and carried them to the well location indicated by Chen Ping'an. Mai Qing lay down, reaching out to break the clouds beside the boat, asking casually, "Are there many cultivators outside like Sword Immortal Chen?" Jiang Shangzhen replied that people like him—half-buckets on the mountain—were not even "earthly talents," let alone geniuses; there were vast numbers outside, but figures like Sword Immortal Chen were extremely rare. Mai Qing remained expressionless but inwardly cursed: Men’s words are all lies, alas.
Xu Jiaoqie sat upright and sent a heart voice, "May this junior be so bold as to ask, how did Sword Immortal Jiang become the chief retainer of Falling Mountain?"
Jiang Shangzhen felt his scalp tingle and wanted to ask back, "Miss, how did you become like this?" But he gave a perfunctory answer: "Mountain Lord Chen and I hit it off at first sight."
When they reached that unremarkable wild well, a verdant indigo-green parasol tree leaf hovered above the well mouth.
Geshu Longshang took off his wine gourd and took a drink, feeling a sense of drifting life, like falling leaves or a jumper from a tower.
Jiang Shangzhen put away the talisman boat and was the first to jump into the well. Without needing a reminder, Xu Jiaoqie squinted, holding her breath and concentrating, clearly intending to take the rear.
Geshu Longshang put away his wine gourd, made no hesitation, and leaped down. His vision blurred as if falling into a void, with only colorful fireflies whizzing past. After a few moments, the sword cultivator, whose physical foundation was actually not bad, started vomiting as if he were retching bile. When his feet hit the ground, the man staggered, only to see that "Zhou Fei," looking aggrieved, had already undone his hair bun and was wiping off stains. Geshu Longshang gave an awkward laugh. Zhou Fei smiled. Then the bearded hero was hit on the head, stars dancing before his eyes, and he fell flat on the ground. The woman who had been sitting on him quickly stood up, tried to apologize, but then bent over as she started vomiting herself. Geshu Longshang, a seasoned general, rolled skillfully out of the way of the "projectiles." Jiang Shangzhen felt a bit regretful. Xu Jiaoqie floated down gracefully and gently patted Mai Qing’s back.
Mirage City, the capital of Great Spring Dynasty, had arrived.
The guardian of this small courtyard well was a married Daoist priest. He had once been an immortal banished to the Lotus Flower Blessed Land for training. After being thrown out of the Observation Temple by the Old Observer, he received a decree to guard this place. The Old Observer told him not to worry about anything, just wait here. But if someone came out of the well and killed him casually, he shouldn’t complain; he could only blame his bad luck. As for when he would regain his freedom, he just had to wait; the time would come accordingly.
Since he had nothing to do anyway, this handsome young Daoist married and had children here, also taking a few concubines. He married a virtuous wife and took concubines for their beauty. They all got along well, calling each other sisters. In any case, since he had nothing to do, they fought on rainy days and also on snowy days—worthy of a Daoist specialized in bedroom arts; he never lost. Since the chamber was harmonious and favors were evenly distributed, the wives and concubines naturally didn’t need to compete for favor.
The Daoist, holding a whisk, stood cautiously under the eaves, not daring to approach the well, and asked in confusion, "Is this Old Sect Leader Jiang?"
Jiang Shangzhen smiled. "How do you recognize me?"
The youthful-looking Daoist hesitated. In his sect, there was a senior female Daoist who had fallen victim to that Jiang villain. When she returned to the mountain gate back then, she was deeply lovesick. Rumors said she often painted a portrait of that heartbreaker and threw it into the fire basin. Even after burning him to ashes, she was still unsatisfied, so she painted another and told a maid to throw it into the common latrine pit. When the Daoist was young, once while squatting in the latrine, he inadvertently looked down and was nearly scared into a psychological shadow.
The Daoist didn’t dare tell the truth and said awkwardly, "Your junior Liu Xun, Daoist name Yushan, from the Jade Basket Temple of Wild Crane Mountain, has long admired Old Sect Leader Jiang."
Jiang Shangzhen quickly shielded the two women and asked in mock surprise, "You’re Liu Yushan? So you’re a big lecher?"
Slandered first, Liu Xun said helplessly, "Your junior merely cultivates the side door of Yellow Old and Red Seal arts. Such high-grade bedroom techniques treat the bed as a Dao field. There is no evil intention. The union of male and female Qi, the complement of yin and yang—I believe Old Sect Leader Jiang can understand."
Jiang Shangzhen snorted a few times and said sternly, "How can I understand? I don’t understand at all, and I don’t accept it!"
Liu Xun changed the subject. "Old Sect Leader Jiang, what are your plans next? Is there any opportunity for this junior to help?"
Anything except sneaking into the imperial palace to sleep on the emperor’s dragon bed—everything else was negotiable.
After all, a Nascent Soul realm Daoist of orthodox background still carried some weight in the current Great Spring Dynasty and Tongye Continent.
Jiang Shangzhen asked, "Can you return to the Lotus Flower Blessed Land through this well?"
Liu Xun shook his head. "I’ve tried. Certainly not."
Jiang Shangzhen looked around. The heavy rain had briefly stopped. He looked up at the sky: rain had passed, the sky was clear, an azure blue as if washed.
Jiang Shangzhen was also afraid that this notorious lecher would frighten the two unmarried ladies, so he summoned the talisman boat again and headed straight for Fish Scale Ferry in Cloudrock Kingdom to find Wen Yu and deliver the letter.
After the talisman boat passed through the sea of clouds and disappeared into the distance, Liu Xun remained standing there for a long time before lightly spitting. "What a piece of trash, that dog thief Jiang. How dare he turn things around and call me a lecher."
Just as Liu Xun was about to turn around, a willow leaf appeared in the courtyard. It drifted drunkenly to Liu Xun and finally stopped in front of his brow.
"Wild cranes without grain, heaven and earth are wide. Fellow Daoist, why act like a pompous scholar, despising peers?"
Jiang the thief’s voice echoed in Liu Xun’s ear. "If you hurt my feelings, I’ll have to hurt your Dao path."
Liu Xun quickly bowed and apologized profusely.
On the journey to Cloudrock Kingdom, another heavy rain came as if on schedule. Jiang Shangzhen guessed that the pattern was three days of rain, one day rest, repeated three times, and then it would end?
Jiang Shangzhen had no high hopes for this scattering of Dao by the Three Teachings patriarchs. It was none of his concern; he’d just watch. After all, Jiang Shangzhen didn’t acknowledge the roots of the Three Teachings.
The heaven’s rain, though wide, has nothing to do with me.
Missing this immense opportunity didn’t bring regret—it wasn’t in Jiang Shangzhen’s nature. But to say he had no regret at all would be self-deception. He should have read more Daoist classics.
Jiang Shangzhen was currently more curious about whether Chen Ping'an could gain something from this rain. He didn’t dare ask the Mountain Lord directly for fear of drawing the snake out of the grass, so he asked Cui Dongshan. Cui Dongshan’s reaction was strange. He said that his teacher had taken an extreme path to break through his realm. There were only two outcomes: either he would fuse everything together, forge a single furnace, and gain enormously, or everything would cancel out, be worn away, and end with nothing. There was no middle possibility.
Cloudless rain fell, heaven and earth were dim. The talisman boat was like a fish swimming in the void. Geshu Longshang and Mai Qing were both amazed; the boat seemed to hold up an invisible large oilpaper umbrella.
Under the vast millennia, how many disconsolate wanderers were there in the human world?
If heaven had feelings, the wind would stir the heart, the rain would fall like tears.
Jiang Shangzhen took out a jug of wine and a few porcelain cups. Xu Jiaoqie said she never drank for fear of causing trouble. Geshu Longshang, a drunkard for whom a day without wine was like losing half his life, naturally didn’t stand on ceremony with brother Zhou Fei, who had a mortal feud with that lecher Zhou of Spring Tide Palace. He took the imitation flower-shaped cup. Jiang Shangzhen filled it with celestial brew. The bearded man drained it in one gulp, found it unsatisfying, so he asked Zhou Fei for a whole jar. He drank on his own, praised loudly, placed the jar at his feet, and sang loudly while beating the railing with one hand. Mai Qing had never drunk wine in her life. She felt that since she had run away from home to wander the jianghu, not drinking would be improper. But she didn’t know her measure and took a big gulp, which choked her terribly, her face instantly crimson. The second time she only dared to take a tiny sip, and then she developed a taste for it. Jiang Shangzhen laughed and praised, "Miss Qing is truly a child born of the jianghu."
Jiang Shangzhen took out a pile of forged passes from his sleeve and gave two copies each to Geshu Longshang and Mai Qing. He explained, "To travel the landscapes here, you also need travel documents. In the past, Qi refiners didn’t need to be so particular; they could go wherever they liked without restrictions. But now Tongye Continent is very strict. If a cultivator doesn’t have a proper identity, they can easily end up drinking tea and reading books at the academy. I took the liberty of writing your real names on these passes. The other copies, you can later fill in with your aliases as you wish. Rest assured, the seals of various governments and passes on these documents are genuine."
Mai Qing opened the pass, which unfolded into a long series of folded pages. She admired the different script styles and official seals. "A glittering array, so beautiful to look at."
The woman resolved to collect a hundred travel seals in the future.
Geshu Longshang laughed. "Old Sect Leader Jiang is truly a veteran of the jianghu."
Jiang Shangzhen, catching the subtle hint, smiled and said, "My real name is Jiang Shangzhen. I once sat in the first chair in a sect and had some reputation in Tongye Continent. But after three years in charge, even a dog would despise me. Unable to win over everyone, I stepped down and let someone more suitable take over. That’s why that fire-dwelling Daoist at the well called me 'Old Sect Leader.' Fellow Daoist Yushan was taking a roundabout way to curse me. Sharing the same boat is fate. You can call me Fellow Daoist Jiang, Brother Jiang, or Big Brother Jiang—whatever you like."
Jiang Shangzhen looked away and asked with a smile, "Miss Xu, on this trip to Tongye Continent, will you still use the name Xu Jiaoqie?"
Xu Jiaoqie smiled brightly. "I should follow the example of Hidden Official Chen, who often changes aliases when traveling the world. I’ll use Luo Wan."
She didn’t know why she was so fond of the name "Luo Wan." The thought sprang up naturally, as if a sightseer walking along the shore suddenly saw a fish leap out of the water.
Whenever she mentioned the Hidden Official, there was admiration in the woman’s eyes.
Jiang Shangzhen handed her a pass and said with a smile, "Luo Wan—a very fitting and nice name." Fine material with warp and weft interwoven. The splendor of Luo Wan fabrics is extremely opulent. The weaver’s skill was truly superb.
Jiang Shangzhen sent a heart voice, "Miss Xu, did Mountain Lord Chen tell you the inside story of this trip to Cloudrock Kingdom?"
Han Yushu’s immortal corpse was in Jiang Shangzhen’s hands. It had been used twice in the Wildlands, and to others, it was just a fleeting glimpse.
Luo Wan nodded. "The Hidden Official instructed me to pretend to be that immortal surnamed Han and go to Mount Tianmu Academy to clear his name. I must perform a good play with Principal Wen to try to calm the Three Mountain Blessed Land."
Jiang Shangzhen leaned lazily against the boat railing, holding the wine jug by the neck with two fingers, gently shaking it. He sighed without reason: "When heaven rains, a girl must marry."
In Mirage City of the Great Spring Dynasty, besides the grand snow scene of Liuli Realm, which was universally acknowledged as the most beautiful spectacle on Tongye Continent both on and off the mountains, there were also a hundred thousand peonies, a splendor unmatched under heaven.
At Liu Xun’s residence, there were more guests.
A white-clad young man, with a mole between his brows, wearing a green jade hairpin. Beside him was a Confucian-robed youth, with a white jade hairpin.
Both jade hairpins were gifts from their teacher, meticulously carved. Each had an eight-character fine-print inscription.
On Cui Dongshan’s: "Red rail, jade paper; new as if untouched."
On Cao Qinglang’s: "Looking at him, he seems austere; approaching him, he is warm."
Since their teacher had personally rooted out that deeply hidden Xiao Xing, the blessed land was truly peaceful now. Cui Dongshan had already negotiated prices with the Qi refiners inside the blessed land.
Eight or nine out of ten were willing to bring their sect disciples, families, and descendants back to Tongye Continent. As for the one or two who chose to stay, it wasn’t that they didn’t want to return, but Cui Dongshan had partially opened the formation restrictions to let them personally experience what abundant spiritual Qi meant in a high-grade blessed land. The result: those who left and those who stayed both had to pay.
Those short of cash could owe and pay slowly later. Once in Tongye Continent, the Green Lotus Sword Sect promised not to call in debts within a hundred years. The interest wasn’t high, so no need to rush to pay off the whole sum.
Prices were counted per head. There was a scale: those with higher current realms, those closely related to the sect leader, had higher prices. For talented core disciples with promising Dao paths and good bone structure, if they charged too little or set the price too low, wouldn’t that be an insult to their future achievements? Could this group of favored children of heaven endure such humiliation?
As for those refugees who were ordinary mortals, money wasn’t mentioned. If Cui Dongshan had the nerve to open his mouth, he’d worry about having his legs broken by his teacher.
Cui Dongshan acted swiftly. Since this channel had suddenly appeared between the Lotus Flower Blessed Land and Great Spring Dynasty, it shouldn’t be wasted. On this matter, he and his teacher shared the same thought: the Old Observer definitely wouldn’t leave this path permanently; he might take it away at any time. Taking advantage of Xiao Mo being at the Old Observer’s side catching up, they should quickly evacuate all the outside Qi refiners from the Lotus Flower Blessed Land. This would ease the task of moving the umbrella.
Otherwise, next time Xie Gou carries the parasol tree leaf umbrella containing the entire blessed land across continents, she would need to expend a huge amount of stored spiritual Qi. She could afford it, but Falling Mountain couldn’t.
If not for this, considering Chen Ping'an’s usual style, he would have already had Xiao Mo or Jiang Shangzhen plus Cui Dongshan take the umbrella back to Tongye Continent. After all, relocating an entire blessed land—especially one that now possessed the Five Great Peaks and a complete Dao path—was far more arduous than a normal immortal mountain-moving feat. Moreover, during the journey, this oilpaper umbrella, which couldn’t be stored in a natal Qi mansion using immortal means, would be subject to any "wind and waves." Even just violent shaking, let alone damage, could be an unpredictable disaster for the sentient beings in the blessed land.
Thus, Chen Ping'an could not be cautious enough.
When Xiao Mo returns from the Azure Mystery World to Falling Mountain, Xie Gou should be able to return from the Ten Thousand Mountains to the Haoran World. That would give them a chance to be alone.
As for whether Xiao Mo could remain chaste and Xie Gou could cook the rice… hehe, let them rely on their own abilities.
Liu Xun, sensing the commotion at the well courtyard, hurried over. Either no one came, making him wait year after year, or they all swarmed at once. Did they make an appointment?
Although his duties confined him to the capital, never allowed to leave for a moment, Liu Xun was still a Nascent Soul realm old immortal and well-informed about the changing external situation through purchasing landscape and official gazettes. He immediately recognized the white-clad young man: Cui Dongshan, the first sect leader of the Green Lotus Sword Sect, a high disciple of the young Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Liu Xun dared not be careless and again introduced himself to the two unexpected guests.
Cui Dongshan smiled. "Qinglang, go to the imperial palace and inform Yao Jinzhi about this matter, explain why this is happening. If His Majesty the Emperor is willing to clean up the mess, let him come here to try his luck and recruit a few bottom-tier retainers. The Yao family of Great Spring lacks thugs, and these people lack money. That’s a match made in heaven, a perfect fit."
Cao Qinglang nodded with a smile. After asking Liu Xun for directions, he walked out of the residence along the winding paths between the carved beams and fine balustrades, heading to discuss this with Yao Jinzhi.
Liu Xun was slightly surprised—he turned out to be a proper scholar.
At the blessed land well, another group of blessed land Qi refiners who had been invited to help "guide and protect the path" for Falling Mountain gathered. Sun Wanyan was there to watch the fun. She lifted her fingers; her nail guards shimmered. As a native cultivator, Sun Wanyan was seeing so many Qi refiners for the first time. She sighed faintly—so outside, Qi refiners truly weren’t worth much.
Luo Fumei, the personal disciple of Fox Kingdom ruler Pei Xiang, led a group of charming fox kingdom female cultivators, rare to get out for fresh air. Moreover, this was a direct order from Hidden Official Chen of Falling Mountain, so they dared not be negligent. Each was meticulously dressed, like female officials recording palace documents. They carefully recorded the archives of the several thousand people: names, Daoist titles, places of origin, sects, and landscape lineage records.
The only strange thing was that the Fox Kingdom ruler Pei Xiang had set them a rule: besides the female cultivators writing down the records, the Tongye Continent Qi refiners also had to sit in line, speak their accounts orally, and then write them down themselves.
Thus, the fox kingdom side would have two copies of each file.
But wasn’t that just taking off one’s pants to fart?
Luo Fumei, like a roving inspector, watched the men and women, old and young, with various expressions.
Besides the just-broken-through Golden Body realm swordsman Cao Ni, there were also two young martial artists of extraordinary talent, Yuan Huang and Wu Jiang. They were all preparing to go outside and broaden their horizons.
Yuan Huang also sat among the perfumed ladies, helping to write travel documents. Wu Jiang held a sword in both hands, sitting behind a table. He seemed to have nothing to do, but in fact, he was feasting his eyes.
There was also a female grandmaster He Qizhou from Jiangzhou of Songlai Kingdom, and an old martial artist whose master was said to be the knife-grinder Liu Zong. The old man, nearing sixty, was a sixth-realm martial artist. He had actually received an invitation from Gao Jun of the Hushan Sect but didn’t attend that Daimu Temple meeting. Aside from martial arts sparring and fighting, the old man had no interest in such affairs of talking and arguing or power struggles. This time, upon receiving news, he came without hesitation, wanting to leave this world to go see his master.
The mindscape of cultivators.
Strange things are not strange.
At the mountaintop with a riot of colorful flowers and thousands of green bamboo stalks, the azure-clothed drinker tapped the white bowl with his finger, producing a crisp, pleasant sound. "So, what do you say?"
The white-clad Heart Demon smiled. "What kind of question is that? What can I say? And do you allow me to say anything?"
Cultivators and heart demons were mutual enemies, adversaries.
A cultivator clearing away a heart demon is like collating a book; it’s like sweeping fallen leaves from the mind. The leaves swirl and fall again and again—dust rises with each sweep, and there is always more.
"How about a compromise? Each side takes a step back, and we live in peace?"
The white-clad Heart Demon sighed deeply at this, hands tucked in sleeves, looking up at the sky. "You and I both know, Chen Ping'an is not Wu Shuangjiang. How could he separate out his heart demon?"
"Nothing in the world is too difficult for a determined heart. A way out of no way can always be found."
"I can’t think of one. What’s the price?"
"It doesn’t matter if you can’t think of it, as long as you sincerely agree to a certain method. As for the price… you can gain a certain degree of freedom, similar to a cultivator’s yin spirit."
"Sounds utterly insincere."
"Actually, it’s extremely sincere."
The white-clad Heart Demon said with a faint smile, "In a thousand words and ten thousand lines, why should we deceive ourselves? I actually trust that method of yours. Any other heart demon besides me would probably think it’s good and go along with it. Unfortunately."
The azure-clothed drinker sighed. "Our former self truly was stubborn. Yes, without you, there would be no us. We wouldn’t have reached the heights we have today."
Chen Ping'an’s true heart demon was the Chen Ping'an of the past.
More precisely, that child who loved to deny himself.
At that moment, another particle of Chen Ping'an’s spirit appeared on the mountaintop. In a sense, this was his true body. He removed the facade, now wearing a scarlet dharma robe, holding a sword in both hands, the sword point planted on the ground.
Chen Ping'an sat cross-legged, the sword lying across his knees. His face and form were blurry, but he turned to look at them—the former self and the pure self. He waved at them with a smile.
The azure-clothed guest with pure golden eyes was the first to walk to Chen Ping'an. He crouched, grabbed a handful of soil, and gently rubbed it in his palm.
The white-clad immaculate one hesitated for a moment, then stood up from the table and walked over. As he walked, he became a teenager, then a child.
Without any need for words, the true Chen Ping'an, embodying complex human nature, and the Chen Ping'an symbolizing divinity, both made room for the child—the timid one who looked at the world with suspicion, fear, and hope. They let the child sit in the middle, as if silently protecting that still immature child.
The child sat on the ground. Behind him appeared a large basket with only a thin layer of medicinal herbs. The child hugged his knees gently, lost in thought.
Chen Ping'an in the scarlet robe spoke hoarsely, "Because I know growing up will be harder, that’s why I don’t want to grow up, don’t want to become me now?"
The azure-clothed Chen Ping'an with the jade hairpin chuckled. "It seems we were a little lazybones who couldn’t endure any hardship back then. It’s been so many years, I’d almost forgotten."
Chen Ping'an, pressing his hand on the scabbard, murmured, "What can be done? I can never return to before I was five."
When the child heard this, he finally spoke timidly, "It can be done. If you walk backwards, you can see my father and mother, clearly, no longer forgetting their faces, and you can hear what they said."
As he said this, he put on a pair of shoes appropriate for his age. The only old item from the orphan of Mud Bottle Alley that he hadn’t traded with his peers for food. Perhaps because he couldn’t bear to part with it, perhaps because no one wanted it. Whatever the reason, it was still in that ancestral home.
The child said aggrievedly, "It’s not that you can’t walk back; you just can’t bear to give up everything you have now. You don’t even want your parents anymore. I don’t want to become that kind of person."
The azure-clothed divine Chen Ping'an took down the jade hairpin from his topknot, gently blowing on its inscription as he looked at it. He reached out his left hand and touched the child’s head, saying sadly, "Little fool, it’s fake. In the end, it’s all fake. So the me of the past wasn’t so considerate and understanding of others from the start… no, that’s not right either; I was the one who loved to wrestle with myself the most?"
The child stared blankly at the scene beyond the mountain. Wind and rain, vast and dim, pitch black, unable to see his fingers in front of him.
The true Chen Ping'an raised one hand, moved it away from the scabbard, and gently beat his chest as if knocking on a door.
The child with the tender face listened attentively.
It turned out they were on an inverted mountain within a mental world. The peak pointed downward, facing the pile of bones on the great mental earth.
The child, face covered with tears, stood up, shouldered the basket, wiped his tears, clutched the rope in front of him, and turned to look at that both human and inhuman creature. The child, still with a sobbing sound, grinned as if to give himself courage. "I’m not afraid of ghosts."
The divine Chen Ping'an twisted his wrist and handed the child a stick of candied hawthorns, saying with a smile, "The small ones taste better."
The true Chen Ping'an seemed to be grimacing, afraid to look at the child.
The child hesitated for a moment, then stood up, shouldered the basket, stood on tiptoe, and gently patted the true Chen Ping'an’s head, as if apologizing to him, as if comforting him, and also as if saying a silent farewell.
At the same time.
Millions of skeletal remains of "Chen Ping'an" fell together like a heavy snowfall.
The child, wearing his small warm shoes and carrying the large heavy basket, walked straight into the snow.