Chapter 110: All Feasts Must End
Chen Ping'an's shoulders sank, and his breath became stagnant. That strand of sword aura that had been about to leave his qi mansion was like an arrow already on the string, having to be released. But with a sudden pat on his shoulder, it was like a giant python emerging from a mountain, only to encounter a river dragon blocking its path. Its previously unstoppable momentum naturally paused, and it temporarily chose to stay its hand.
"Hold it, hold it." A straw-hatted man stood beside Chen Ping'an, arm around the boy's shoulder, grinning. "A loving family like this, fighting and killing—what kind of behavior is that?"
Chen Ping'an looked up. The straw-hatted man who had appeared out of nowhere smiled at him. "Trust me, I'm A Liang."
Chen Ping'an sighed. "I'll listen to you for now."
A Liang only glanced at Zhu He, not even bothering to look at the girl Zhu Lu. Lazily, he said, "Such a precious strand of sword aura, used to kill a Zhu He—that's a terrible waste. You'd feel bad, and I'd feel bad for you. Besides... forget it, let's not say those mood-ruining things. Anyway, my conscience wouldn't allow it. Consider this 'Eighteen Halts' method of circulating qi as compensation."
Chen Ping'an had been about to retract his two-fingered gesture, but at that moment, A Liang let go of the boy's shoulder, stepped back, and shook his head with a laugh. "That pose is totally unbecoming of a master. Let me teach you something impressive."
"Stand steady!" After a soft shout, the straw-hatted man curled his fingers, first tapping Chen Ping'an's shoulder, then moving like lightning, pressing seven or eight points on the boy's chest. At the same time, he employed an immortal technique even superior to focusing sound into a thread, directly stirring ripples on the boy's heart-lake and sending a series of thoughts: "Remember the starting point of this qi within your body, remember the names of all the qi mansions and the circulation route. Qi is like a dragon's vein stretching endlessly, starting at the Source of Ten Thousand Mountains, the foremost qi mansion for nurturing a sword in this world. This is the First Halt. Quickly pass three mountains and six passes, reaching the Fuzha Acupoint for the Second Halt. Then swiftly traverse six caves and nine mansions, arriving at the Pure Yang Mansion for the Third Halt... This is the final halt, totaling eighteen halts. These acupoints and qi mansions differ greatly from current terminology. They are the precious, hard-won wisdom of countless ancient sword cultivators who cut through thorns and brambles at great cost. Remember them well!"
A Liang finally asked, "Got it all?"
Sweat beaded on Chen Ping'an's forehead. "I remember about seventy or eighty percent."
A Liang laughed. "Good enough. If you end up banging your head bloody later, don't be afraid. It's a path every sword cultivator must walk. Once you're familiar with the route, you can try to circulate the qi slowly. That's the most interesting part of the Eighteen Halts. Well, this is a technique I, A Liang, figured out. Some people were deeply impressed and praised me, saying this alone has elevated the height of the sword path. Haha, a bit embarrassing."
Chen Ping'an suddenly felt that this so-called Eighteen Halts was probably not much better than the Mountain-Shattering Fist Manual.
As if reading the boy's mind, A Liang said seriously, "Do I look like some kind of braggart? I, A Liang, have never known what boasting is in my entire life!"
Zhu He had barely managed to pull his mind out of the mire, but his limbs were stiffer than before. One move and he would die—that was the only thought in Zhu He's mind. Such was the invisible intimidation brought by that straw-hatted man.
When that fellow with a green knife at his waist and a gourd at his side was your friend, you thought he looked nothing like an expert.
But when he became an enemy standing opposite you, Zhu He was drenched in cold sweat, utterly terrified, as if his soul were about to scatter.
In the distance, Zhu He's mind was already lost. Nearby, Zhu Lu only heard Chen Ping'an muttering to himself.
A Liang again sent a mental message to Chen Ping'an: "A light boat has passed ten thousand mountains—it's good when the qi mechanism flows a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand miles in an instant. But if you can achieve slow progress, like a mountain accumulating soil for a hundred years without any visible increase, like a sea gathering water for a thousand years without the surface rising even a little, that's even better! From now on, when circulating qi, you can focus on this path, so that even while sleeping, it will run by itself."
Chen Ping'an asked doubtfully, "How will I know if the Eighteen Halts are running while I'm asleep?"
A Liang, arms crossed, laughed. "Walk to where the water ends, and sit to watch the clouds rise. At that time, you will naturally know the answer."
A Liang sat down heavily on the bench, but no sooner had he sat than his expression turned odd.
Chen Ping'an covered his forehead.
Without changing expression, A Liang lifted his backside, brushed off the rock candy skewers stuck to his pants, moved to another spot, and sat down. He placed his hands on the railing and let out a long breath. Finally, for the first time, he looked directly at Zhu Lu. "You and your father not only need to return the True Martial Mountain's Hero's Gall and the Purple Qi Book to me, but you also need to hand over that stack of heirloom talismans from the Li family. But these talismans can only save one of you. Zhu Lu, I'll let you choose now: will you leave Pillow Post Station alive, or will your father?"
Before Zhu Lu could speak, Zhu He said in a deep voice, "I beg Senior A Liang to let Zhu Lu leave. I am willing to commit suicide to atone, and I won't even dirty your bamboo knife, senior."
A Liang just looked at Zhu Lu with a smile, completely ignoring Zhu He, who had already pulled out pills and yellow paper talismans. "Zhu Lu, who do you want to live?"
The girl had already become a tearful mess, only using her hand to press firmly over her mouth, not daring to sob.
Her other hand, behind her back, was clenched so tightly that her nails pierced her palm, her hand covered in blood.
Zhu He knelt heavily on the corridor in the distance, kowtowing and speaking in a trembling voice: "Senior A Liang!"
A Liang looked at Chen Ping'an and asked, "What do you think? Should I let them both go? If you're afraid Zhu He will retaliate, I can cripple his martial arts cultivation. If you're worried about accidents, I can just break Zhu He's Longevity Bridge, or Zhu Lu's as well."
The boy didn't look at Zhu He, only at Zhu Lu. "I said, you must die."
Zhu He abruptly raised his head and roared, "Chen Ping'an, Zhu Lu is still a child!"
The boy, who had been relatively calm, inexplicably turned pale with anger at these words.
The straw-sandaled boy surged forward several steps, about to punch through Zhu Lu's chest. At this moment, her qi mechanism was chaotic, not much better than an ordinary girl's weak physique. But for some reason, after throwing the punch, it involuntarily turned into a palm. Its trajectory tilted upward, and a heavy slap landed on Zhu Lu's cheek.
A Liang pressed the boy's shoulder again. "That's enough."
A Liang said softly with a smile, "Some punishments are crueler than death and an end to all troubles."
Chen Ping'an sat back down on the bench, staring blankly. After that, he had no idea how A Liang dealt with the father and daughter, how they left Pillow Post Station, or where they went and whom they would meet.
The boy suddenly looked up. "A Liang, is there any wine to drink?"
A Liang laughed. "Plenty of wine. That little gourd of mine can hold a thousand catties. But I have to tell you something: when a person is sad, they absolutely shouldn't drink, or they'll easily become a hopeless drunkard. For happy occasions, you can drink, and maybe, drink after drink, you'll become a wine immortal."
---
Outside the gates of Pillow Post Station.
Lin Shouyi stood alone on the street. For some reason, A Liang had left the boy outside, telling him to wait for a certain person to appear and decide for himself whether to cross the station's threshold.
Even though he was bored, the boy still stood like a lone pine on a mountaintop, his back straight.
Under the light of the big red lanterns hanging at the entrance of Pillow Post Station, the boy took out the Daoist scripture Cloudborne Recitation from his bosom and began to browse the difficult, obscure words—truly awkward and rough, like harsh winds and bitter rains.
But whenever he read something that struck a chord, or comprehended a bit of true meaning, it was like a clearing sky after rain, parting the clouds to see the blue heavens, filling the boy with joy. This heartfelt happiness, a boy with a cold disposition forged by a rough life, was unwilling to share with others.
The boy never shied away from using the greatest malice to speculate about people and events in this world.
From afar came a woman of ordinary appearance. Seeing the boy, the woman's eyes showed surprise, and she sighed, "Truly a good seedling for cultivation."
The woman stopped at a distance of seven or eight steps from the boy, smiled, and said, "Hello, Lin Shouyi. We've met before by the water—I was on the painted boat, you were on the shore. My true identity is the Grand Supreme Elder of the Great Li's Everlasting Spring Palace. Not to brag, but I am indeed what the common folk call a mountain immortal, genuine and true. With a wave of my sleeve, I can summon wind and rain; with a stomp of my foot, I can shake the earth. I am especially skilled in the Five Thunder Orthodox Method, able to suppress demons and evil spirits with a flip of my palm..."
At the end, the woman laughed to herself and waved her hand. "No, no, this wording is far too embarrassing. Next time, I'll have someone change it to something more plain."
But the boy nodded. "I believe you."
The woman smiled. "Although I don't know what your father said in that letter, nor what that A Liang is thinking, since he clearly knew I was following you and left you outside the station, I think I can try to convince you. Come back with me to the Great Li capital, say goodbye to your parents, and then follow me to Everlasting Spring Palace to cultivate Daoist arts."
Lin Shouyi said coldly, "My father told me to stay put in Red Candle Town, and then some expert would take me to the Great Li capital. Otherwise, if I die out here without anyone knowing, he won't collect my corpse. Because a dead man isn't worth those travel expenses. My father mentioned that prices in the Great Li capital are very high these days, and household expenses are great."
The woman sighed. "Your father's words are a bit harsh, but isn't that the truth?"
The boy's lips curled in a sarcastic smile.
The woman hesitated for a moment, then reached out her hand to the boy, her expression solemn and dignified. "Although you might think this is too childish, lacking in mystery, and missing many twists and turns, trials, and tribulations, I still want to tell you: Lin Shouyi, take one step forward, and you will step onto the Longevity Bridge."
The boy put away the scripture book, tucked it back into his bosom, and shook his head. "Thank you for the kind intention, Immortal Elder. I had no say in what family I was born into or what surname I bear. But I know in my heart what path I should take."
"What a pity."
The woman only sighed, not forcing the issue. "Lin Shouyi, then we shall meet again if fate allows. I hope you won't regret it by then."
The boy made a formal bow, strict and precise. "Lin Shouyi respectfully sees the Immortal Elder off."
The woman vanished in a flash.
---
The station corridor.
Chen Ping'an and A Liang were now sitting opposite each other on benches along the corridor.
Chen Ping'an asked softly, "A Liang, are you leaving?"
A Liang nodded.
He raised his little gourd and took a drink.
It was obvious at a glance that he had thought of something sad, despite his earlier claim that one shouldn't drink while sad—that was just the straw-hatted man's polite talk.
A Liang stared blankly at the boy opposite him, at those clear eyes of young Chen Ping'an. They looked exactly like a pair of eyes he had seen many, many years ago.
*"A Liang, I've made up my mind. Reading is useless, it's too annoying! I, Qi Jingchun, want to go out and roam the martial world with you. I want to revel in gratifying revenge, drink the strongest liquor, use the fastest sword, ride the finest horse. Well, I've got the money ready—over a dozen taels of silver! If that's not enough, I can borrow a bit more from my teacher. My teacher is very reasonable. He told me that if I really don't want to study, I can go out and travel. The vast mountains and rivers for thousands of miles are all knowledge."*
*The blue-robed scholar boy, with a swollen nose and bruised face, had eyes clear and determined.*
*By the academy gate, an old scholar was hiding, not daring to show himself, only poking his head out and frantically signaling to A Liang. Seeing that A Liang ignored him, he simply sidestepped a few paces, went to the threshold, rolled up his sleeves, and put on a look that said, "If you dare to abduct my student, I'll fight you to the death."*
*"Go away, go away. You're still wet behind the ears, all talk and no substance. When you've grown up, I'll take you to see the outside world."*
*"A Liang, it's a deal. I'll wait for you."*
*Finally, A Liang, with his back to the boy, held his sword hilt with one hand, slouched as he tapped his shoulder, and with the other hand raised his arm, fist clenched, waving goodbye to the boy.*
*The wanderer A Liang waved farewell to the young lad who yearned for the martial world.*
*After this parting, there would never be a reunion.*
*Finally, the man turned his head and saw that the old man had already taken the boy's hand, and the two walked back to the academy together.*
*The old and the young chatted.*
*"Jingchun, I forgot to ask earlier, who beat you up?"*
*"That guy named Zuo."*
*"Ah, him? He's so heavy-handed! I'll go talk to him later. A gentleman uses words, not fists. But why did you fight? Did he lose the argument and then get angry out of shame?"*
*"No."*
*"Hmm?"*
*"After he lost the debate, he was willing to admit defeat, but he deliberately said that no matter how much I read, I'd never have a chance to surpass you, teacher, in my lifetime. I thought that was impossible. Teacher, your knowledge is vast, but now you get sleepy as soon as you open a book, often dozing off while reading. I'm still young, and I'll always have more time than you... But he kept harping on it, saying I should have more knowledge than you by tomorrow. So I couldn't stand it and struck first. I couldn't beat him, and I accepted that. I didn't even complain to you before, right? A scholar needs that much backbone. Teacher, you're not so good in this regard. When you win an argument but lose a fight, you only talk about how profound your learning is, how that debate was unprecedented. But if you lose an argument and win a fight, you only talk about how earth-shattering the fight was..."*
*"Teacher, teacher, why are you twisting my ear? Ouch, ouch... A gentleman uses words, not hands!"*
*"What gentleman! Teacher here is a saint!"*
*The man who saw this scene finally turned around and left with ease.*
*In those long, turbulent years, sometimes the man would sit on that Great Wall, drinking mouthful by mouthful alone. Hearing those bits of news that came from faraway Daoxuan Mountain—not a single piece of good news, all damned bad news—he would regret not having taken that boy along back then. He would blame that old man for not even being able to take care of his own prized disciple.*
Now, looking at the boy before him, A Liang suddenly smiled. "Once, I said to a boy about your age, 'Trust me, you'll have more success with reading than with sword practice.' Now I think I should say to you, 'Trust me, you'll have more success with the sword than with the fist.'"
Under the straw hat, A Liang's face was crinkled with a smile, his eyes narrowed. The smile was radiant, like a warm winter sun.
But Chen Ping'an had never seen A Liang so sad.
(End of this chapter)