Chapter 1090: Having a Good Neighbor

Chapter 1090: Having a Good Neighbor

Gu Can and that old man who served as the national preceptor, Huang Lie, had a pleasant chat. Neither put on airs, and both were sensible, so they hit it off and had plenty to talk about. They sat together on the threshold of the grand hall, with not the slightest hint of a tense, hostile atmosphere. The palace maids did indeed bring over two food boxes filled with delicacies carefully prepared by the imperial kitchen. They only dared to cast a distant glance at the scholar's robe-clad young man of unknown origin, then tiptoed silently like cats walking in the night, heads bowed, to the outside of the hall. Huang Lie took the two food boxes. Gu Can smiled and thanked them. The old man said they could leave the box that remained there; he would handle it himself. They quietly withdrew. The old man only ate one piece of pastry before stopping, saying he couldn't eat anything too sweet—it stuck to his teeth. Gu Can chewed heartily on the palace delicacies. The old man picked a flea off his body, pinched it between two fingers with a *pop*, as if every flea he plucked was a wordless complaint.

Huang Lie, who had served as the national preceptor of the Yuxuan Kingdom for decades, muttered to himself that he found it very interesting to pick fleas in front of officials. Gu Can nodded in agreement, saying it was quite elegant. The old man then asked Gu Can if he was Sect Leader Liu of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect. Gu Can smiled and shook his head, saying no, because Sect Leader Liu wasn't as easygoing as he was. Liu Xianyang always acted recklessly, going headfirst without regard for consequences. If it were him, this imperial palace would have been in chaos long ago. For instance, Liu Xianyang would have directly blocked your door and Xue Pang's door earlier.

Huang Lie became even more uncertain about the young man's identity. To speak of Sect Leader Liu with such casual familiarity? Could it be that one from Piyun Mountain? Absolutely impossible. Could it be the Great Sword Immortal Mi from Sword Qi Great Wall? He had heard that this hidden official lineage from the Summer Resort of Sword Qi Great Wall, a Jade Pellet realm sword immortal, had come to the Haoran Heaven and was now at the Immortal realm. Did that mean the soil of our Haoran Heaven wasn't much worse than Sword Qi Great Wall? Gu Can seemed to guess the old man's thoughts but still didn't rush to reveal his identity.

The Yuxuan Kingdom was a small country on Vase Bottle Continent that couldn't rise above mediocrity. Because it was one of the vassal states of the Great Li Dynasty, it lived under someone else's roof. Huang Lie's title of national preceptor was merely an empty decoration. Saying he was the national preceptor above ten thousand and below one was just the two words "Golden Core" bought by the Xue family to put on a show. This was a completely different situation from the embroidered tiger Cui Chan's role in the Great Li Dynasty. It wasn't just that their realms were vastly different—like heaven and earth—but because National Preceptor Cui Chan actively sought out trouble, while Huang Lie avoided it. Of course, Huang Lie still deeply admired that embroidered tiger. The reason was simple: in the old man's view, without the Great Li iron cavalry and National Preceptor Cui Chan, the Vase Bottle Continent, with its hundred states, would not just be a land where states ceased to be states, but where people would be worse than ghosts. After all, a guard dog in a time of peace lived more like a human than a person in chaotic times.

Perhaps feeling that sitting together in relative idleness wasn't quite right, Huang Lie found a clumsy topic and tentatively asked, "How did you, fellow Daoist, come to know Mountain Lord Chen?"

But Gu Can answered the question, "When I was young and ignorant, I once heard someone talk about a principle that I thought was big and empty at the time. He said that being an accountant who fiddles with an abacus and deals with numbers all day might not be truly interesting, but at least you can find joy in hardship. From calculating a small household's daily expenses to studying a mountain sect's or even a country's fiscal records, you could discover many hidden insights that are easily overlooked. If someone delves deeply and thoroughly enough, they can gradually see through the fog and perceive a country's spirit, the trajectory of its rise and fall, and the traceable patterns of its policies. It's like having a true ledger on the table, stripped of all embellishment and falsehood. Every thread in the ledger is a clear wheel track. When we are willing to be patient and listen intently, we can hear the thunder of how history arrives and where it is headed."

Huang Lie pondered for a moment. It was indeed a novel idea he had never heard before. The old man turned to look at the layered palace buildings and sighed, "The concept is certainly good, but easier said than done. Without great perseverance, determination, and means, this grand feat cannot be accomplished. The threshold is too high. Within a country, how many people can access those confidential archives and casually flip through the account books of the Ministry of Revenue?"

Gu Can neither agreed nor disagreed, merely smiling and letting it go.

The alley of Mud Vase Lane in the small town, Dilapidated Mountain to the west, Green Gorge Island on Letter Lake, the small tavern and Summer Resort on Sword Qi Great Wall, and now the Green Duckweed Sword Sect on Tongye Continent.

Huang Lie glanced at Gu Can's scholar's robe attire and asked with a smile, "Fellow Daoist disagrees?"

Gu Can smiled. "The First Sage said, 'A scholar aspires to the Way.' Later sages added some more practical principles. But you, senior, are doing a reverse deduction. Naturally, it becomes as difficult as ascending to heaven. This easily makes people take it too seriously, inevitably regard it as a daunting journey, and feel timid. That is adding difficulty on top of difficulty."

Huang Lie nodded. "Your words are not false. I have been taught."

Gu Can said, "Allow me to say something disrespectful. Senior, in serving as this national preceptor, it seems you haven't lived up to the title?"

Huang Lie laughed heartily. "How is that disrespectful? Even if you directly said I'm neglecting my duties and squatting in the latrine without shitting, that would still be a good word."

Gu Can said, "At the root of it, the Xue family of Yuxuan Kingdom doesn't truly know how to make the best use of people. They don't understand how to employ talent and get things done."

Huang Lie smiled slightly. "Such words aren't suitable for discussion."

Gu Can said, "No matter, the account can all be chalked up to me."

Huang Lie sighed. "As the old saying goes, 'If you're not deaf and not blind, you can't be the master of the house.'"

Gu Can nodded. "Every family has a difficult scripture to chant."

Huang Lie couldn't help but sigh emotionally. "Daoists have their methods, Buddhists have their practices, Confucians have their way of living. You Confucians must make the framework of the real world clear and explicit, so that people can use it even without learning. The literary veins and orthodox traditions pass down the torch. Each generation has its own scholarship and challenges. Each generation has its own entrusted refinement. Therefore, scholars within and outside the court are willing to consider themselves as entrusted men. I assume you, fellow Daoist, are the same?"

Gu Can smiled. "Senior, you have it wrong. I am not a proper scholar. For me, observing etiquette and following rules is entirely a matter of necessity."

Huang Lie asked, "Have you suffered losses?"

Gu Can nodded. "In this matter, I have fallen and suffered bitterness. So I learned a lesson. Someone said that the stupidest person in the world is one who suffers bitterness in vain."

Huang Lie smiled without speaking. Having lived to such an age, he could understand the implications. The "someone" Gu Can mentioned earlier and the "someone" now were undoubtedly Mountain Lord Chen.

Then Gu Can said something that left the old man puzzled. "A decisive battle between two countries is not limited to the battlefield. Those who oppose armies are not only martial artists."

Gu Can explained, "You can replace 'two countries' with good and evil, and 'two armies' with oneself and others."

Huang Lei savored that, placing his palm against his chin. "There's something to chew on."

Huang Lie asked with a smile, "Fellow Daoist, we've chatted well, haven't we? Can't you give me a hint and tell me your background?"

Gu Can closed the food box, clapped his hands, and smiled. "My name is Gu Can. I am from the same hometown as Chen Ping'an. We both live on Mud Vase Lane."

Huang Lie was stunned into silence, as if struck by a dull blow. He was deeply shaken. That direct disciple of Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City, the insolent Gu Can, wasn't he on another continent busy establishing his achievements?

And according to the small rumors on the mountains of Vase Bottle Continent, hadn't Chen Ping'an and Gu Can completely fallen out? It was said that they parted unhappily at Letter Lake, ending with a dismal outcome of never seeing each other again?

That was why when the Dilapidated Mountain group went to observe the ceremony at Zhengyang Mountain, Sword Immortal Liu Xianyang was present, but not Gu Can. That made sense. One was the last disciple of the Wen Sheng lineage, the other the direct disciple of a giant in the demonic path of Haoran. They couldn't possibly get along. Different paths, no common goals. Once the goodwill accumulated in youth was exhausted, they would inevitably drift apart. According to common sense, two such figures, each reaching the peak of cultivation, if they met on the path in the future and didn't regard each other as enemies, it would probably be considered cherishing the past.

Gu Can put his hands in his sleeves, squinting with a smile. "Hearing it's me, senior is quite surprised?"

The old man also imitated the gesture of putting his hands in his sleeves, but quickly withdrew them, somewhat sheepishly. "When you do it, it looks like imperial nobility. When I do it, I just look like a hick farmer."

Gu Can burst into laughter.

Gu Can said, "Huang Lie, can we discuss something?"

Huang Lie actually shivered and immediately said decisively, "A Qi refiner killing an emperor is the greatest of taboos. Now that the Confucian Temple's rules are strict, you'd be caught and sent to the academy for prison food. No, absolutely not! Besides, Emperor Xue is at least my employer. I can't do such an ungrateful deed. Gu Can, if you're set on slaughtering here, I can't change the outcome. To stake my worthless life on it, frankly, I'm not willing. So I'll just have to stiffen my neck and block you. I beg you, don't hit too hard or too lightly. That way, I can account to my position as national preceptor and my own conscience!"

Gu Can couldn't help but laugh. "Senior is certainly quick to speak his mind."

Huang Lie asked doubtfully, "Isn't that the matter?"

Gu Can said, "I'm not a fool. At my current realm, I'm far from being able to wrestle with the Confucian Temple's rules. What I want to discuss with you is... I think we've chatted well and hit it off. National Preceptor Huang Lie, rather than collecting a meager salary from the Xue family of Yuxuan Kingdom every year, why not change your cage and move to a different mountain? Get a new identity. Earn immortal money and break through in cultivation—neither will be delayed."

Huang Lie frowned. "What mountain? What identity?"

Could it be to let me, a registered Qi refiner with a clean background, go to Middle Earth's White Emperor City to earn a living? Changing his sect registration... Huang Lie felt his face wasn't thick enough for that.

Moreover, the outside world said that White Emperor City had countless extraordinary talents. Even if he, a Golden Core cultivator, entered White Emperor City with Gu Can's guidance and groundwork, would he really be able to eat well and enjoy luxury? In this Yuxuan Kingdom capital, at least he, Huang Lie, could sleep peacefully every day.

Gu Can stood up slowly. "I'm inviting you to a new sect without cumbersome formalities, to serve as a nominal honored elder. Rest assured, it's the kind with a seat in the Patriarch Hall that carries real authority. I can guarantee that if you don't want to work, you can be very idle. If you want to work, you'll be very busy. It's entirely up to you, Huang Lie. Additionally, as a meeting gift from the sect leader, there are two or three Daoist books and secret manuals that could help you reach Nascent Soul. And a path that gives you a chance to enter the Upper Five Realms in the future. As for whether you ultimately break through or even go further, cultivation is ultimately your own business. It's not child's play. No one can guarantee that you'll definitely cross one or two major steps."

Huang Lie unconsciously stood up as well. "I have to ask, fellow Daoist is so sincere—what do you see in me?"

Gu Can smiled. "On one hand, we hit it off, and I find you agreeable. On the other, I think your Golden Core bottleneck is not unbreakable. You just lack opportunity and resources. A Nascent Soul cultivator is quite valuable anywhere. For example, my first master, Intercepting River True Lord Liu Zhimao, served as a Nascent Soul Earth Immortal for many years. Back then at Letter Lake, he could command wind and rain, like a local emperor."

Huang Lie asked cautiously, "Fellow Daoist is planning to establish a sect?"

Gu Can nodded and spoke through divine sense, "My senior brother Fu Jin and I each take a group of people from White Emperor City. White Emperor City will soon become an empty city. We each will build a branch sect for our ancestral court."

Huang Lie said, "What if I refuse your invitation, fellow Daoist?"

Gu Can said, "Don't worry. No consequences. A forced melon isn't sweet. To be blunt, what's the point of fussing over a Golden Core nowadays? It's beneath me. After we part today, it's just each going our separate ways. But later, when that sect starts to flourish and you want to join, it'll be hard. Of course, Huang Lie can stay here, muddle through life waiting for death, and hope for a breakthrough by fate. You can live a comfortable, stable, leisurely life, like a rich man finding a place to retire. Or you can bet on the table. Fortune favors the bold. While you still have some spirit left, not worn down by the world's obstacles, you can gamble on a grand wager with a newly rising sect, pursue the true Great Way, and see if you can add another Upper Five Realm cultivator to Vase Bottle Continent."

Huang Lie's eyes sparkled. He struck his palm with his fist, staring at Gu Can's face. The old man laughed. "So I've encountered a 'once in a lifetime' opportunity? Since they say a tree moves and dies, a person moves and lives, then why not seek it?!"

Gu Can suddenly asked with a playful look, "Aren't you afraid I'm tricking you?"

Huang Lie was first startled, then smiled. "Since Sect Leader Gu is still friends with Hidden Official Chen, which differs greatly from outside rumors, I imagine he has boundaries in his actions."

Gu Can's face stiffened, and he muttered a curse in his hometown dialect.

Huang Lie, who had been somewhat apprehensive, inexplicably felt relieved at this scene. In the unseen, he felt he had made the right bet!

Huang Lie once again used the title "Sect Leader Gu" and asked curiously, "Just to ask, why didn't you go to Dilapidated Mountain instead of White Emperor City?"

Gu Can asked back, "Is there a choice?"

Huang Lie didn't know how to answer for a moment.

Gu Can smiled faintly. "A book says, 'With a good neighbor, one sees a gentleman every day.'"

The female cultivator from the Barren Wilderness, whose Dao name was Spring Night and alias Gu Lingyan, was still at the Imperial Observatory, playing her tricks and thoroughly enjoying herself.

But she also knew her own limits. She was only able to fool the three directors of the observatory because of her high realm; it wasn't necessarily that they weren't clever.

Since following Gu Can as his personal maid, logically, a rare outing like this should have given her some freedom and relaxation. But instead, she found herself constantly thinking about what was happening at the palace. Had there been a fight? Any excitement to watch? This made Gu Lingyan mock herself inwardly: *Ha! A cat and its bowl, a dog and its master.*

On a rugged, uninhabited mountain range, legend had it that an ancient immortal had commanded five giants to open a road, cutting a straight path through perilous terrain with winding ranges and sword-like peaks. Later, an emperor planted ancient cypresses along the road, their shade so thick the path seemed a corridor of emerald clouds. Two thousand years passed. On a plank road clinging to steep cliffs above a raging torrent, predecessors had chiseled holes in the rock and laid timbers to build a narrow path. A boy with an ancient appearance walked along it, holding a seven-hole bone flute carved from an old crane's shinbone, with a gold slip for absolving sins hanging from his waist. At the abandoned ancient post station known as "Choubi," where history had seen five deities clear the way, the accomplished boy stopped. Outside the mountains, dynasties changed; in the world, the mundane world churned—all of it bored him. He chose to distance himself from the mortal realm. As far back as he could remember, he had been a man of great skill and attainment. Of course, he knew this was abnormal, but for two thousand years, he could only grope alone for traces in the mortal world, desperately seeking some truth, never able to break through. The boy sighed and stepped into the dilapidated old post station. As an adept in geomancy, he had already known this place held mystery, like another talisman formation ferry set up by a kindred spirit. After wandering alone for so long, he had long since discovered that this world seemed to be full of such ownerless structures everywhere. If there were pavilions on the ground for commoners to rest, then "in the mountains" this ferry seemed specially designed to help Qi refiners cross the landscape. Indeed, the next moment, ripples appeared, and the scene around him instantly changed. When the boy set foot on solid ground, this ancient immortal, who still didn't know his own name, found himself in a mountain perhaps millions of miles away. In a Daoist temple, five old men with various expressions were looking at an unfurled massive scroll. The painting had much blank space, only a yin-yang fish. Seeing the uninvited young true immortal, they wanted to compete with him in poetry. The boy chuckled softly, glanced at the yin-yang fish on the scroll, too lazy to waste a word with those pretentious mountain spirits. His body condensed into a wisp of mist and leaped into the painting. Then he found himself in a bustling marketplace. The boy seemed to be in a water town prefecture. On both banks were mostly seal-shaped courtyard houses. According to local custom, when a daughter married, she had to ride a decorated wedding boat, passing at least three bridges: Blessing and Fortune Bridge, Ten-Thousand Peace Bridge, and Longevity Bridge. The boy passed a time-honored sauce garden with sales across thousands of miles. In a vast open sunning ground, huge sauce jars were arranged in rows, at least two thousand by rough estimate. The strong aroma of sauce assailed his nostrils. The boy casually looked around, his vision penetrating walls and houses. He saw a well-matched couple living in harmony after marriage. That day, the new bride spread paper and ground ink, while her husband was painting a three-foot small picture. The inscription had five or six hundred characters. Next door, a noble house had a gate full of mixed flowers, with a crape myrtle in the courtyard. The locals didn't know its value, but in the young immortal's eyes, it seemed about to become a spirit. Inside that old residence, a pile of loan slips and IOUs was stacked on the study desk. An old man, whose lifespan seemed about to end, was throwing those slips into a brazier. Outside the door, his unworthy descendants watched helplessly, gritting their teeth, eyes wide and bloodshot, filled with reluctance and resentment, but not daring to show it. Seeing this, the young immortal sighed and walked into a small alley. There, a sturdy young man was running a scam stall, squatting by the roadside, hands in his sleeves, yawning.

The boy hadn't paid much attention at first. In his many journeys through the mortal world, he had long been accustomed to such shoddy tricks. They were all based on endgame chess puzzles, sure wins with no losses. But today, the boy's expression turned serious. This stall offered Go problems. The boy sat opposite the man, who perked up and smiled. They played out a game that resulted in a *san-ren-ju* (triple ko), rarer than a draw in Go. The man smiled, apologizing for being one move short and failing to create a *shi-ren-ju* (quadruple ko). "That would have required you, fellow Daoist, to go just a little further." The man raised a hand, pointing to the mouth of the alley. The boy walked to the alley entrance, stopped, and turned. "What is my name?" The man seemed to speak in riddles, pointing to himself. Seeing the boy's confusion, the man had to laugh. "I only know you're surnamed Yu."

The boy surnamed Yu walked out of the alley mouth and instantly arrived at a small county known for its thriving imperial examinations. There was a decrepit old man who specialized in collecting waste paper. In this place rich in literary atmosphere, almost every household had a small bamboo basket for paper. Whether it was practice calligraphy for pleasure or studying the official script for the exams, any paper with writing on it was not casually discarded. It was gathered and put into this bamboo basket, which was wrapped in white paper with a vertical strip of red paper as wide as a palm, bearing four bold regular-script characters: "Respect and Cherish Written Words."

Wealthy families placed this bamboo basket next to the incense table in the ancestral hall. Common families didn't dare neglect it either, often keeping it in a clean corner of the main hall. When the paper basket was full, the old man who specialized in collecting paper would come. He often carried a large bamboo basket on his back, visiting house to house. He collected the written paper, loaded it into the basket, and carried it to a remote small temple, where he was responsible for burning the paper. Inside the temple, there were no clay statues. Apart from the curling smoke from burning paper, there was no other incense all year round. On the north wall hung a vertical scroll with only text: "Shrine of Emperor Wenchang."

The boy followed the old man with the basket to the temple. The old man, squatting at the temple entrance burning paper, smiled and came straight to the point. "In this current identity, are you comfortable, Fellow Daoist Yu?"

Yu Shiwu liked to say he rarely came down the mountain. Was this trip enough to fill him up?

Yu Shiwu asked directly, "How did you manage to erase my memories?"

The old man laughed freely. "Since we can write words and draw pictures on paper, naturally we can erase words and wipe out images on paper."

Yu Shiwu asked solemnly, "With such scheming and meticulous planning, what are you seeking?"

Chen Ping'an smiled. "Reading old books yields extra flavor; practicing my Way requires effort to achieve merit."

Outside the ancestral hall, seeing that Chen Ping'an was unwilling to fight as a sword immortal, Ma Kuxian seemed regretful. "I did learn some of the secular fist techniques. But compared to you and Cao Ci, they're not worth mentioning, so I set them aside."

Thinking back to that year at the battle at Divine Tomb in their hometown, the two youths had fought with fists and feet.

"Many times, I do envy you sword immortals. So over the years, I've spent a lot of effort looking for a path to become a 'proper' sword immortal. But I just couldn't find it. Even when I settled for the next best, secretly rifling through many forbidden ancient texts and secret manuals, trying to find a shortcut like official hereditary privileges, it still didn't work. As for buying imitation swords from Northern Reed Continent's Hate Sword Mountain and pretending to be a sword immortal—I couldn't do it. I don't have the face for that kind of thing."

After all, only a Jade Pellet realm sword immortal could claim to fight an Immortal realm cultivator without fear.

In fact, the reason sword immortals were considered the most troublesome among the top four on the mountains was that in the Lower Five Realms, their combat power matured fastest and was most unreasonable. A flying sword, like a divinely granted innate ability, caused Qi refiners endless headaches. Qi refiners in the Lower Five Realms had weak bodies and their many spells were not yet refined. When a sword immortal faced them in a mortal grudge, they would just sacrifice their innate flying sword without a second thought. *Whoosh!* Victory or defeat was clear, life or death decided. What was there to reason about?

As a fellow townsman and peer, from the time they first met, Ma Kuxian seemed to have this quirk: when fighting, he talked a lot. Like a drunkard spilling the truth after drinking?

In their two previous encounters, Ma Kuxian had been confident of victory, so he had been calm. But this time, what was going on? Dying words, handing down affairs—unable to hold back?

Ma Kuxian's expression was complex, whether self-deprecating or sarcastic. "A belly full of truth, hard to tell common people. I don't know why, but every time I see you, I can't help but want to chat more."

Seeing that Ma Kuxian still showed no sign of stopping, Chen Ping'an wasn't in a hurry anyway, so he dropped his fist stance and strolled slowly, stretching his limbs.

"Chen Ping'an, believe it or not, back in our hometown, when you were on Mud Vase Lane and I was on Apricot Flower Lane, I already regarded you as a kindred spirit. Mm, kindred spirit—that's a literary way of saying it. Simply put, we are the same kind of people. Very similar. We can endure, bear hardships, keep our eyes open, hide things in our hearts. When looking at this world, we like to trace things back to their origins. Neither of us wants to be manipulated by others, even if that 'other' is so-called Heaven. No, it's the same. Don't deny it. To a large extent, I understand you better than many people on Dilapidated Mountain. People who cool themselves in the shade of a tree can never see its full shape. Your followers and mine, no matter how many or few, ultimately live in our shadows. How can they recognize our true faces?"

"So I even made a hypothesis long ago: when I make it big, I would take you with me. I would sincerely give you the most benefits. Use riches and honors that a boy from Mud Vase Lane wouldn't dare dream of—real benefits—to gradually grind away your desire for revenge, making us true friends. Then one day, when I establish a mountain sect, you would be my right hand. I could leave everything to you to manage. I believe you would do it better than anyone. That's why I said earlier that among the younger generation in our town, the two of us were enough. A sect with two Fourteen Realm cultivators sitting on the mountain—isn't that enough? Otherwise, why do you think I went to the creek to pick snake gallbladder stones back then? They were all meant for you, as your initial capital for embarking on the path of cultivation. It's just that I never expected you would meet Ning Yao from Sword Qi Great Wall and have so many connections with her. And under Blacksmith Ruan's instruction, you went to the western mountains, used those three bags of gold essence copper coins to buy a bunch of mountain peaks, and became a local landlord. From that moment on, I knew a conclusion like today's meeting was inevitable. The only difference was sooner or later, and who kills whom."

Having said this, Ma Kuxian paused briefly and asked tentatively, "This time you chose the time, so can I choose the place?"

Chen Ping'an nodded. "Fine."

Ma Kuxian said, "Since you're so good at arranging scenery and creating geography, I won't stand on ceremony. How about we set the battlefield at Sword Qi Great Wall? I've never been there, and it's a bit of a regret, big or small."

In an instant, Ma Kuxian got his wish. The ground beneath their feet turned into a section of the city wall. Ma Kuxian looked up. In the sky was the strange sight of three moons hanging together. But the season seemed different, as if after a heavy snowfall. On the ground, it was impossible to tell moonlight from snow.

Ma Kuxian took a few steps. His boots crunched in the thick snow. He grabbed a handful of snow from the crenellations and put it in his mouth, chewing carefully. He nodded. "It really feels quite real. How did you manage that? Generally, illusions that can fool the eyesight of Upper Five Realm cultivators are already quite difficult. But you even fooled the sense of touch and taste? How? Supporting the reality of such an illusion must consume a lot of qi, right? Why go to such trouble for those worthless Ma family youths? Isn't that like using a cleaver to kill a chicken?"

Chen Ping'an stood on the other side of the city wall, silent the whole time.

His striking bright red robe seemed somewhat incongruous against the white snow and moonlight.

Ma Kuxian sighed. "Right. You've had that nature since childhood. Careful, cautious, mature, steady. You even consider yourself a potential enemy. That's what I admire most about you. 'Not startled by constant scolding, not afraid of constant beating.' Is that what the books call 'having calm in the face of great events'?"

Ma Kuxian turned to look at the scene inside the city and quickly located the Summer Resort. "Discussing tactics outside the game, teeth and cheeks full of ice and frost."

Chen Ping'an smiled. "You flatter me."

"I remember when I was little, I always heard my grandmother repeat a saying: everyone has their own fate. Whether it's good or bad is determined by heaven. A person's previous life decides the destiny of this life. What kind of womb you're born into, what kind of person you become, what words you speak—it's all prearranged, almost certain. Outsiders say you're lucky, too lucky. Otherwise, there's no explaining how an orphan from a run-down alley could have such fortune."

"After all, it's not simply a poor child jumping through the dragon gate to become the top scholar. Or a destitute poor man striking it rich. Even Lin Shouyi or Dong Shuijing—outsiders could barely understand them. But with you, common sense can't explain it. It seems like there's no other reason except extraordinary luck. Chen Ping'an, what do you think of that?"

Chen Ping'an smiled faintly. "I follow the crowd."