Chapter 1115: Writing a Book of Youth

Chapter 1115: Writing a Book of Youth

At Sword Worship Platform, beneath the eaves of a thatched hut, a row of small bamboo chairs was arranged. Among them sat a girl in a sable hat, her posture leisurely, her cheek resting on her hand in the slanting sunlight. Ever since Old Deafy had built his thatched hut and begun cultivating here, this place had become much livelier. Of course, it might also be because Bai Xuan had returned from the lower sect to the mountain. As soon as Bai Xuan came back, Chen Lingjun frequently came here to chat aimlessly. Additionally, since Old Deafy entered the mountain, Mountain Lord Chen had entrusted him with an important task—he needed to regularly interact with Xie Gou. Xie Gou, in turn, was being dragged around by the White-Haired Child and had sworn brotherhood with Guo Zhujiu, making her their alliance leader. This was probably what they called a convergence of winds and clouds, a gathering of distinguished friends. As a result, the once-deserted Sword Worship Platform had become a "village square" for exchanging information.

Today, a large crowd was packed here again, with bamboo chairs and stools barely enough to go around. Strangely enough, everyone had been given a slice of sweet watermelon. The melons had been soaked in a mountain stream for about an hour, with Xiaomili squatting by the water to keep watch. Then they were taken to Old Cook, who chopped them up with his cleaver. Zhu Lian smiled and asked where they came from, as it wasn't the season for such fruit. Xiaomili laughed and said that the good Mountain Lord had gone on a sea voyage and stolen them from the sandy fields of an island belonging to some small immortal sect's cave dwelling. He tucked one melon under each arm and ran off with them. They seemed to be common there, left unguarded, and no one even noticed the good Mountain Lord's movements.

At the time, Zhu Lian had nodded and said, "Very good."

Xiaomili grinned. The big watermelons just looked delicious.

At Fuyao Foothills, that private cultivation ground, Mountain Lord Chen—who had played the part of a petty thief—had kept a whole watermelon for himself and was eating it while sitting in the corridor.

Beside him sat Daoist Ding, who had long since achieved fasting and felt no craving for such ordinary fruits. Still, he felt that Mr. Chen was being a bit too selfish, not sharing the joy. This was unlike his usual demeanor—unusual, indeed.

Chen Ping'an ate very slowly, occasionally lost in thought.

Daoist Ding asked, "Mr. Chen, when do you plan to teach me the Ascension Method?"

Chen Ping'an snapped back to attention and smiled. "Let me finish eating first."

Upon hearing this, Daoist Ding instantly felt as if a great enemy had arrived. He steadied his dao heart, crossed his legs in meditation, placed his hands on his abdomen, and breathed deeply. Although he had been staying here for a while and Mr. Chen had never gotten to the point, Daoist Ding felt peaceful and serene in this place. Even if he had nothing to do all day, he didn't feel he was wasting time. He practiced qi refining on schedule, occasionally flipped through books, let the days drift by, closed his door in late spring to compose verses, and waited for snow to fall so he could admire the plum blossoms.

Before coming here, he had always felt he was waiting bitterly. Now that the moment was at hand, he grew nervous.

Daoist Ding couldn't help but glance at the watermelon several times. No matter how he looked at it, it was just a common summer thirst-quencher, not worth a few coins in the marketplace.

And this Mountain Lord Chen ate watermelon without spitting out the seeds. Beside him lay a pile of rinds. He patted his belly and wiped the corner of his mouth, then said with a faint smile, "In cultivation, one seeks purity without blemish; in cultivating the heart, one must constantly wipe away dust. What is called 'examining the heart' is like cleaning a room—sweep all the dark corners into a cramped space where there is no room to turn or maneuver. And you must also be able to distinguish between the broom, the dustpan, and the dirt."

After finishing the entire watermelon, Mountain Lord Chen spoke with an unhurried demeanor, his words plain and ordinary. But the more Daoist Ding listened, the more his scalp tingled, and the more uneasy he became.

Was this so-called teaching of the Ascension Method meant to be a brutal, lethal blow from Mr. Chen, who was here to protect and observe his path?!

He knew that in the scriptures, some words were deliberately spoken loudly to frighten people—like how one needed to die to obtain a lively Dao.

Or how one must seek a way of life from within death, placing oneself amidst a thousand blades and ten thousand edges, and with great perseverance and constancy, carve out a realm of one's own, finding strength in antiquity.

Before, Daoist Ding hadn't felt much about such empty platitudes, because his cultivation aptitude was good, so he had never experienced this kind of... personal pain.

Chen Ping'an smiled gently. "Daoist Ding, I'll give you a little private lesson first. Be extremely careful, pay close attention, and remember it well. Remember to 'preserve your life in a chaotic world.' Those two words, 'preserve life,' contain infinite effort. Above all, remember that 'life' does not merely mean existence."

Daoist Ding looked at the earnest Mr. Chen, who was giving him such solemn advice. He felt that in Chen Ping'an's eyes, he was already a dead man.

Chen Ping'an's expression turned kind and amiable. He chuckled and asked, "If we say that life's experiences are a book, what kind of opening would Daoist Ding like? One where the family is poor from the start, or a higher starting point? One where fortune comes early, or a little later?"

Daoist Ding stammered, unable to speak.

Chen Ping'an continued on his own, "I've already thought of a title for this book, Fellow Daoist. It's called 'Youth.'"

Daoist Ding knew something was wrong.

Chen Ping'an's gaze was playful. "Now that things have come to this, there's no escape. A retreating dao heart won't do."

Daoist Ding felt a chill run down his spine.

In an instant, with a thud, Daoist Ding fell backward and hit the ground. This sleep would last who knows how long.

As he lay unconscious, completely dead to the world, the last words he heard were full of murderous intent.

"Withdrawing troops before battle? By law, you should be executed!"

Not looking at the daoist who had been sent off to seek enlightenment.

"Finally dared to steal a watermelon to eat."

Chen Ping'an looked down at the watermelon rinds by his feet, then raised his head and gazed into the distance, muttering to himself, "Maybe what I ate was freedom."

Beyond the heavens, two old men were putting on a show.

Yu Xuan praised Fellow Daoist Chen for daring to think and act. Old Scholar said, "Not at all, not at all."

Old True Man said, "The Wen Saint lineage is truly about to flourish." Old Scholar replied, "Your Peach Talisman Mountain is thriving even more."

Gu Qingsong, whose dao name was Xiancha, had nothing better to do and was idly wandering. He piloted a small boat through the starry sea, originally intending to find the ruins of the ancient heavenly court and exchange a few pleasantries with his master's master, offering a word of gratitude.

Unfortunately, the journey was too far, and Gu Qingsong couldn't find the way, so he had to turn back. His mood was poor, and he wanted to have a few words with Yu Xuan.

But instead, he saw Old Scholar and that old man Yu happily drinking wine together, like the best of brothers.

Old Scholar quickly waved his hand and invited Brother Xiancha to join them for a drink. Gu Qingsong glanced at the silent Old Immortal Yu and waved his hand dismissively. "My realm is low, and I don't have Old Scholar's sage status. A drinking session like this, with a combined twenty-eight realms, is too high for me to reach. Even if I jumped, I couldn't reach Yu Fourteen's table."

Gu Qingsong turned his boat around and said, "I'll row my broken boat, and you drink your status wine."

The old true man, who had just earned the nickname "Yu Fourteen," was at a loss. This poor Daoist didn't dare to say a word.

After the boatman, his face sour, rowed away, Yu Xuan sighed in admiration. It was no wonder that Lord Lu didn't dare to accept this man as his direct disciple.

Old Scholar said quietly, "If it weren't for this, Gu Qingsong would worry that his master would forget an unregistered disciple even more."

Yu Xuan nodded, deeply agreeing.

Yu Xuan communicated silently, "I've guessed roughly what Fellow Daoist Chen's Ascension Method is."

Old Scholar hesitated for a moment, then said, "Regarding this matter, earlier in Old Yang's pharmacy backyard, the Dao Ancestor said a few words that were crucial."

Yu Xuan finally relaxed.

Old Scholar chuckled. "What the Dao Ancestor said wasn't really an inspiration; it was just a refined summary of an existing idea. The Dao and the path, two things in agreement."

Yu Xuan gasped again.

On Flower Shadow Peak of Tiaoyu Mountain, eight youths—four boys and four girls—held different evaluations of their various teachers.

Gantang, said to be a retainer of Fallen Mountain, taught earnestly, never straying into other subjects. He explained great principles in simple terms, showing great skill in teaching.

The daoist Liang Chaoguan spoke with a soft, rustic accent, his words concise. He never needed to consult any books, yet his lectures were vivid and engaging. Bai Feng spoke with a flat tone, putting people to sleep.

Lu Biyu's lessons lacked humor; he was even more nervous than the eight listeners. Sweat beaded on his forehead whenever he spoke.

But outside of class, when the eight asked him for advice, he transformed completely—erudite, elegant, insightful, and unrestrained. Occasionally, he would throw in some playful remarks, revealing a charm completely different from his classroom demeanor.

As for that Xie Gou, who called herself by the dao name Baijing, she had also bestowed upon herself titles like "Great Master" and "Head Instructor." What she taught, the eight couldn't quite understand or learn.

Back at Sword Worship Platform, after they had divided and eaten the watermelon, Xie Gou—who seemed particularly drowsy today—suddenly yawned, sat up straight, and issued a command. "Gan Yiban, I heard Mountain Lord mention it once. The reason you managed to rank among the peak sword immortals of the Sword Qi Great Wall seems quite unusual. Mountain Lord didn't say much; he kept it a mystery, saying something about an old wine getting more fragrant with age. Don't hold back anymore; spill it."

She always called Old Deafy "Gan Yiban" (fitting for a retainer), which showed her addiction to officialdom. Xie Gou had learned from Bai Xuan, who liked giving people nicknames, and so she gave Old Deafy this title.

Old Deafy grumbled inwardly. Mountain Lord Chen really had a big mouth. But on his wrinkled old face, a smile bloomed. "There's not much to tell. When I was young, I had a hot temper. During a battle between two armies, after three cups of wine in the tent, I didn't know who I was anymore. On top of that, some old fellow from Guan Alley goaded me with a few reckless words. So I took my sword alone and climbed onto the city wall, and I called out to... Chen, the Great Sword Immortal, for a one-on-one duel. The Great Sword Immortal agreed."

Bai Xuan was shocked. "He didn't just kill you with one sword strike?"

Chen Lingjun was even more shocked. "Great question!"

Ordinary people couldn't come up with such a uniquely angled question.

Bai Xuan said, "Oh, right. If he had killed him, Old Deafy wouldn't be here playing big shot."

Bai Xuan, being Bai Xuan, covered his mouth with his hand and whispered to Xie Gou, "Deputy Seat Xie, is Old Deafy a restless ghost?"

Xie Gou shook her head. "He's very much alive."

Bai Xuan was about to argue that Old Deafy wasn't exactly a person, but then he remembered that Xie Gou herself was of ancient wasteland demon origin. Forget it, to avoid accidental offense.

Mi Yu sneered. "His realm wasn't enough, so he made up for it with guts? He went up and stretched his neck out for the Great Sword Immortal's blade? Or did he ask the Great Sword Immortal to hold his sword forward without thrusting, while he himself charged straight onto the tip and impaled himself?"

Ignoring Mi Yu's sarcasm, Old Deafy instinctively straightened his back, loosely clenched his fists on his knees, and a look of remembrance crossed his face.

It was like drinking a jar of aged wine. The potency was so strong that even after a night, the drinker was still smacking his lips, feeling the lingering taste.

Finally, Old Deafy was willing to unseal the jar and share it with others.

During this reminiscence, he addressed the Great Sword Immortal by name.

"Chen Qingdu, who hadn't asked anyone for a sword duel in many years and hadn't been asked by anyone for even longer, raised his hand and summoned a standard longsword. He told me to use my most proud sword techniques to my heart's content."

"Over fifty exchanges, during which Chen Qingdu sent two strikes. Of course, he was going easy on me."

"Regardless, in the ten-thousand-year history of the Sword Qi Great Wall, it was a unique feat."

Even Bai Xuan and Mi Yu, who usually didn't take Old Deafy seriously, had to admit that Old Deafy wasn't bad when they heard this.

Xie Gou was probably the only one who found it boring. But since Gantang was at Flower Shadow Peak, making contributions even if not outstanding, she didn't say anything.

During the ancient times when Baijing and Xiaomo were both wandering the human world with swords, Chen Qingdu wasn't actually that strong.

Not that his sword techniques weren't formidable then, but he couldn't create a huge gap between himself and other human sword cultivators.

Moreover, it seemed Chen Qingdu had a special status. Many fellow sword cultivators tried to obscure his growth, especially by reducing the number of sword duels between Chen Qingdu and ancient daoists.

Additionally, in that same era, there was the mysterious sword champion, who represented all sword cultivators of the human world and ranked among the ten greats of the world. Hence, he was widely recognized as the number one.

And Chen Qingdu had companions like Yuan Xiang and Dragon Lord, who were all highly skilled in swordsmanship. Even if they weren't as good as Chen Qingdu, the gap wasn't obvious.

Because of the battle to ascend to heaven, Baijing acted on impulse and sustained severe injuries, forcing her to sleep for ten thousand years, causing her to miss many things.

So now, Xie Gou didn't fully understand why, ten thousand years later, the various worlds held Chen Qingdu in such high esteem, almost like a god.

Chen Lingjun couldn't stop praising, clapping his hands in applause. "Brother Longsheng, with such a glorious achievement worthy of being recorded in history, why are you so... subdued? If it were me, I'd be beating drums and gongs, shouting at the top of my lungs."

There were some unique feats that Chen Lingjun wished he could show off, but they were truly "unspeakable."

After all, he was living under someone else's roof, working at Fallen Mountain. Old Deafy forced himself to say something polite: "I treasure my own things; it's not proper to talk about them."

On the city wall of the Sword Qi Great Wall, he had soloed Chen Qingdu in a sword duel.

And crucially, Chen Qingdu had agreed to this extremely uneven duel.

Chen Qingdu wasn't some goddamn bookworm who needed to boost his record to brag.

It wasn't even something that could be described as "glorious defeat." If Old Deafy hadn't possessed a pure enough sword heart, Chen Qingdu would never have given him such an enormous face.

Old Deafy could indeed be proud of this battle.

Mi Yu habitually wore a white robe and a jade belt, with a sword-nourishing gourd named "Haoliang" at his waist.

Elegant and refined, a sword immortal with style—indeed worthy of Sect Leader Cui opening a special Mirror Flower Water Moon for him. The Sword Qi Great Wall had many recognized handsome men: the still-youthful Qi Tingji, Sun Juyuan, and of course Wu Chengpei, and Mi Yu, who was said to "drunk on the clouds of dawn." Wu Chengpei and Mi Yu were also called the "Twin Jewels" by female cultivators from other lands. Among the younger generation, there were Pang Yuanji, Chen Sanqiu, and others.

The White-Haired Child, acting as the chronicler, crouched in a corner and silently recorded this.

Chen Ping'an suddenly appeared at Sword Worship Platform. He said he might need to go into true seclusion for a while.

For the time being, at Fuyao Foothills, aside from Xiaomili who would continue patrolling the mountain, everyone else shouldn't go there and face a closed door. He didn't use a flying sword or ground-shrinking art to return to Fuyao Foothills. Instead, he chose to walk down the mountain on foot, calling over the lazy sable-hat girl and the White-Haired Child, who was waving her arms and shouting, wishing the Hidden Official Ancestor a smooth seclusion and an ascent upon emergence.

Seeing this scene, and hearing the repeated cries of "Hidden Official Ancestor," Old Deafy kept a straight face, but inwardly he was deeply unsettled.

Then, a voice suddenly rang out in his heart lake—it was Senior Baijing. "I won't drink your jar of old wine for free. I'll teach you two sword techniques later. Whether you learn them or not, I don't care."

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Old Deafy stood up solemnly, said nothing, and bowed with clasped fists toward the mountain path.

Bai Xuan and Chen Lingjun exchanged glances. How had Old Deafy, usually the most obtuse, become so sensible? Had Old Immortal Jia possessed him?

Compared to Old Deafy, who had arrived at the mountain a bit later, the martial artist Zhong Qian—who had come with his good brother to join in the fun—had only been at Fallen Mountain for a few days. In terms of fighting skill, he was leagues below Old Deafy. But Zhong Qian, whose name easily made one mistake him for a woman, was the number one martial artist of Lotus Flower Blessed Land, Grandmaster Zhong. At Fallen Mountain, he felt right at home. Earlier at the dinner table, Zhong Qian had asked about the status of Retainer Gantang at Sword Worship Platform. If their realms were roughly the same, did that mean he could also become a retainer? Old Cook replied that Old Deafy was a flying ascension realm sword cultivator. After that, Zhong Qian ate two extra bowls of rice.

That day, Old Cook had rarely taken the initiative to fry a few more dishes as snacks. He pulled Zhong Qian to drink some wine and chatted idly.

Zhu Lian asked Zhong Qian if he knew his own strengths and weaknesses. Zhong Qian said he didn't have many strengths or weaknesses. Wandering the martial world was just about getting by.

Zhu Lian smiled and said that in the world, there were people who were tense as if their bodies and minds were curled up, and there were relaxed, carefree people. The atmosphere of a household—whether it had heavy rules or not—often depended on the character of the household head. That was why many sons of wealthy, powerful families, when at home, didn't even dare to breathe loudly. Walking, talking, eating, studying at the family school—everywhere they were restrained, not daring to defy their elders with even half a sentence. Once they left home, they became completely different people: perverse, reckless, unruly, cruel, and violent. To a large extent, it was a kind of venting, a kind of revenge. And a kind of unconscious compensation.

The Azure-Clad Child and Great Sword Immortal Mi were present at the time. Chen Lingjun laughed uncontrollably, slapping the table and saying that Grandmaster Zhong wouldn't understand this. Old Cook was winking at a blind man.

If Zhong Qian got angry at such words, he wouldn't be Zhong Qian. He grinned and said, "Jingqing knows me. Those who know me all stay single."

Chen Lingjun immediately wanted to settle accounts with Zhong Qian—let the brothers compete through fists.

Of course, it was finger-guessing.

But Mi Yu seemed to have a sudden realization. He decided not to keep up his deliberately lazy demeanor all year round.

Zhu Lian continued, "We may not be good talkers, and we may not be good listeners, either."

"We might understand what someone said and what they implied. But we may not know why they said what they said or did what they did."

"Passively drifting with the tide is different from actively adapting to local customs."

"Once you understand these twists and turns of world and human affairs, when you sit at your own table and lift your wine bowl—whether you drink it all in one gulp or take a big swig—that's your own way of being."

"Otherwise, you'll get a sack over your head and a silent blow. You'll always trip over the same kind of people and the same kind of things, making the same mistakes and suffering the same hardships."

Upon hearing this, Zhong Qian couldn't help but ask, "Old Cook, are you telling me to practice my fists well and not lose the title of the number one martial artist in the blessed land?"

Old Cook's intentions were truly heartfelt, treating him like a junior of his own family. So Zhong Qian actually felt warm inside, quite touched.

But then Zhu Lian held back for a long time, finally couldn't help it, and started pointing at Zhong Qian's nose and cursing, "I'm telling you to have a little insight, to be a bit more mindful, and not to treat this place like a cafeteria!"

Mi Yu, who came every day to drink his morning wine, sprayed wine on the spot. Chen Lingjun, who often came for supper, laughed with his belly in his hands, slapping the table repeatedly.

When Old Cook's cursing gaze shifted to them, they sheepishly got up and left, taking Zhong Qian with them.

At the door, Zhong Qian said, "Brothers, come back for supper tonight. Let's change it up—get me a big bowl of spicy hotpot with meat and veggies."

At that moment, a chronicler was crouched outside the door in the corner. As her duty demanded, she took out paper and pen and recorded this grudge.

On the mountain path, Chen Ping'an said, "I returned from Fuyao Continent and was reminded by True Man Yu. I passed by the East Sea Water Lord's Mansion and met the Dragon-Slayer—the one who had wanted to muster a great force."

Xie Gou laughed heartily. "With me by your side, so close, Mountain Lord can say names like Chen Qingliu and Wang Zhu even if you're talking about them."

The White-Haired Child, Fallen Mountain's first chronicler, who truly loved her job, earnestly asked, "May I ask the Hidden Official Ancestor, on which specific day and month did you two meet?"

Chen Ping'an was exasperated. He raised his arm and held two fingers together.

The White-Haired Child shrank her neck and quickly changed course. "Forget it. Since the Hidden Official Ancestor intends to keep it modest, I won't record it."

Chen Ping'an said quietly, "Tell me the whole story of that wine feast at the New Year's Shop on Qilong Lane. See if there's anything missing."

The White-Haired Child said aggrievedly, "I swear on heaven and earth, I didn't miss a single word!" Besides, when she had reported the situation to him earlier, she had wanted to add in vivid details—how Wang Zhu had raised an eyebrow, how she had smiled charmingly, etc.—but it was the Hidden Official Ancestor himself who had gotten impatient and just said, "Cut the crap."

Baijing said with a smile, "I don't think I've heard about this. Branch Leader of the Konghou, give the General Leader a detailed account. Later, I'll put in a good word with Alliance Leader Guo and have it noted."

They had dragged Guo Zhujiu along and secretly formed a small faction. Their friendship was deep, practically like sworn sisters who had exchanged sworn oaths. In the hometown of Mountain Lord Chen and the Hidden Official Ancestor, on New Year's Eve by the small town, there was a tradition of visiting neighbors and asking about the night meal. The elderly and women would set out a table of wine and dishes, staying home to receive guests. Adults from the neighborhood would sit down and drink, while groups of children would come to the door, shouting for fruits and snacks. Last year at Qilong Lane, when Shirou and the mute girl were sitting by the fire together to ring in the New Year, they encountered Wang Zhu, who had come knocking voluntarily. Shirou had been polite and asked if Miss Zhigui wanted to sit down and have a drink. Who would have thought that Wang Zhu, now the East Sea Water Lord, actually agreed and praised Shirou's stinky mandarin fish. For some reason, Shirou always felt that Wang Zhu was in a good mood that day. Later, the White-Haired Child, who had been playing finger-guessing on a stool next door, also came to join the fun. She chatted with the East Sea Water Lord—who was meeting her for the first time and had been lucky enough to be a neighbor of the Hidden Official Ancestor for a few years—about many heartfelt things. Among them, the White-Haired Child discussed the Dragon-Slayer, Chen Qingliu. Her opinion was relatively "average," just a common view. She used a metaphor: a strong dragon can't suppress a local snake, and since Wang Zhu was a local dragon, Chen Qingliu was just a snake crossing the river—there was no need to fear him.

But Wang Zhu's response at the time was very interesting. She was blunt, roughly meaning that even if she one day reached the fourteenth realm, as long as she faced the Dragon-Slayer, if she didn't run, she would die.

This startled the White-Haired Child greatly. Compared to the maidservant Zhigui of Nilpotent Alley she remembered, this was a world of difference—too self-aware. The reason the White-Haired Child had brought up this unpleasant, taboo topic was that earlier on the night boat, Wu Shuangjiang had instructed her to try to persuade Wang Zhu to leave the Hao Ran world and join Suichu Palace. But being a strategist and a persuader was not the White-Haired Child's forte. Sure enough, Wang Zhu seemed to recognize the White-Haired Child and brought up Stork Tower. The White-Haired Child didn't dare admit it. Wang Zhu's implied meaning was a polite refusal of Suichu Palace's invitation.

Xie Gou listened to this and adjusted her sable hat, a mocking expression on her face. "Run or die? Those were Wang Zhu's exact words?"

The White-Haired Child nodded vigorously. "Word for word!"

Today was different from last time. After much hesitation, the White-Haired Child added a bit more inside information. She revealed Wu Shuangjiang's calculations and intentions, including her inner thoughts, all communicated silently to Chen Ping'an.

Chen Ping'an was not a meddlesome person. Since he had specifically called her and Baijing to accompany him down the mountain, she needed to be especially honest with the Hidden Official Ancestor.

The White-Haired Child asked guiltily, "Chen Ping'an, did my omission earlier cause trouble for you?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "Not much. Even if it did, it's not your fault."

The White-Haired Child said sullenly, "Next time, I won't leave out the beginning and end."

Chen Ping'an said, "No need."

The White-Haired Child wanted to say more.

Xie Gou smiled and comforted her, "It's no big deal. Let's move on. Don't make things awkward."

Chen Ping'an fell into deep thought. He was, of course, unaware of an even deeper secret.

As long as Wang Zhu didn't want to say it, no one could know the truth.

It turned out that Qi Jingchun had once sought out Wang Zhu and given her a prophecy about her great path: "Ascend Stork Tower, the sky is high and the earth is vast; descend Stork Tower, the source is distant and the flow is long."

Qi Jingchun had even taught her how to deal with Chen Qingliu in the future, how to escape the seemingly unavoidable "slaying" calamity.

Going to Suichu Palace, joining Wu Shuangjiang, and cultivating at Stork Tower was a promising path—perhaps her best option.

Staying in the Hao Ran world and avoiding Chen Qingliu could also be considered a middling strategy.

In short, either staying or leaving was acceptable.

But Wang Zhu refused both. She insisted on defying that white-templed scholar.

Like a mischievous child who can't stand the teachings of a stern elder, she had to be contrary. Whatever he told her to do, she did the opposite.

Qi Jingchun finally gave her a suggestion with a smile: if she ever encountered an insurmountable obstacle, she could go to his junior martial brother and tell him that this was Brother Qi's request.

Perhaps that was the lower strategy?

These two martial brothers of the Wen Saint lineage—one had helped her escape her predicament, the other had formed a contract with her.

No matter how much she didn't understand or didn't agree with their ways of handling things, and even the decisions she understood but didn't accept,

Proud as Wang Zhu was, she had to admit that they were the two most important people on the path of her life restart.

Qi Jingchun asking his junior martial brother Chen Ping'an to do something?!

Chen Ping'an asking Chen Qingliu not to draw his sword?!

That was why Wang Zhu had lost her composure in the main hall.

She would rather take that sword strike and bear the beheading calamity than have Chen Ping'an go and humbly plead with someone.

On the mountain path, the three were silent for a long time. The White-Haired Child asked curiously, "Before you came to break it up, since they had confronted each other—enemies meeting face to face—did they fight?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "They couldn't fight."

Wang Zhu had no will to contend with Chen Qingliu at all. None whatsoever.

Xie Gou didn't hide her sarcasm. "And she wants to be the fourteenth realm? What a coward."

The White-Haired Child, probably because she had gotten along well with Wang Zhu last time, rarely defended this true dragon. "When a flood dragon sees that man, it's like a sword cultivator of this age seeing Chen Qingdu. Or like an ancient sword cultivator seeing the Sword Holder."

Xie Gou rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. Wasn't her own Xiaomo like that?

Chen Ping'an said, "According to that plan, if Wang Zhu went to the Qing Ming world, she wouldn't have to share the world's water fortune with Lady Dan Dan, the Lord of Land Water Fortune, and the four sea water lords, including Li Ye Marquis. She could even undergo a second water migration. First, she would ascend Stork Tower, which would be a kind of 'legitimate' registration on the roster, announcing it to the Qing Ming world."

"Then, descending Stork Tower and going with the current into the sea, with someone fanning the flames from the side, her chances of harmonizing with the fourteenth realm would be high. By then, she could monopolize the water fortune of an entire world. This would allow her to merge with the Great Way of the Qing Ming world and gain recognition from the Jade Capital."

"During this period, the long-unused Resting Dragon Platform in Suichu Palace would serve as a pillar and finally be put to use."

"Wang Zhu could in turn protect Suichu Palace, preventing a worst-case outcome. In short, it was a fair trade. Wang Zhu wouldn't owe anyone a favor."

Xie Gou commented, "Interlocking links, a military strategist's approach."

The White-Haired Child asked tentatively, "Hidden Official Ancestor, there's a saying: may I speak or not?"

If it were normal, Chen Ping'an really wouldn't have given her the chance.

The White-Haired Child said, "Is it possible that when Wang Zhu walked into the New Year's Shop that time, she actually wanted you to help her make a decision?"

Chen Ping'an was taken aback. "Really?" Regarding Wang Zhu's voluntary visit to Qilong Lane's New Year's Shop, he had only thought of one layer: having become the East Sea Water Lord, ascended to the flying ascension realm, and restored her true dragon identity, given her usual temperament, she certainly wouldn't want to stroll in fine clothes at night—she had to show off.

That was indeed one of Wang Zhu's thoughts, but it was relatively superficial. Times had changed. With a higher realm, her horizons had broadened, and she could see further.

Xie Gou chuckled. "Mountain Lord, don't think about it. It must be so."

Women best understand women's minds.

They reached the foot of the mountain.

Just as Chen Ping'an was about to use the ground-shrinking art, Xie Gou's eyes sparkled, and she rubbed her hands together. Suddenly she asked, "Chen Qingliu's harmony with the Dao, his realm drop, and his re-harmonization—it's really fascinating! Can you tell me about it, Mountain Lord?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "Even if I have guesses about such matters, I can't speak recklessly."

Regarding Chen Qingliu's path of harmonization: he had clearly succeeded in slaying the dragon, so why did his realm drop? How did he hide his traces for three thousand years and then re-enter the fourteenth realm? Even old sword immortals of the Sword Qi Great Wall like Qi Tingji would be extremely curious. Earlier, during the discussions at the Confucian Temple, when they met Ah Liang again, they asked about this in person.

Chen Qingliu's great path roots, origin, and sword-forging process were all obscure and hazy. In the eyes of the Hao Ran world, he had risen like a comet and disappeared just as quickly. It seemed he had only done two things.

The Dragon-Slaying Battle.

Taking on Zheng Juzhong as his founding disciple.

At that time, in the Confucian Temple's discussion hall, Zheng Juzhong was present, so Ah Liang told Qi Tingji to go ask "Brother Huai Xian" of White Emperor City himself.

Actually, the two sides weren't close. Once, Ah Liang had secretly swum across the great river that pierced the Yellow River Waterfall in the middle of the night. After a lot of hard dog-paddling and repeated carp leaps, he passed the Dragon Gate...

It seemed that even Zheng Juzhong, who had seen it all, couldn't stand it anymore. At the peak of the Dragon Gate, he watched the bedraggled sword immortal and casually chatted with him for a few words.

Then, within a few days, countless landscape gazettes reported that City Lord Zheng of White Emperor City had personally invited Ah Liang into the city for a game of Go. Some said they played one game, others several, and some even said hundreds of games.

Back in the Confucian Temple, Zheng Juzhong probably wanted to avoid disrespecting the venerable and certainly didn't want to reveal the truth to outsiders. Especially Ah Liang.

Although Zheng Juzhong was widely recognized as the number one demonic cultivator, two things about him surprised the peak cultivators: one was his regard for old ties and his respect for his master.

The Iron Tree Mountain's Guo Outing was a clear example. It was precisely because of Zheng Juzhong's ascent that Guo Outing was unable to descend the mountain.

Another was that Zheng Juzhong seemed exceptionally tolerant of his troublesome junior disciple, Liu Chicheng.

When Ah Liang arrived at the Sword Qi Great Wall back then, he had the same attitude as Qi Tingji: he was quite interested in fellow sword practitioners with superb sword techniques and broad sword paths.

But he was the Great Sword Immortal's "little padded jacket"! He was practically a foster son!

Old geezers like Dong, Chen Ji, and Qi Tingji, who were too embarrassed to ask, or knew they wouldn't get an answer and so didn't ask at all.

After all, the Great Sword Immortal seemed never to speak of matters beyond the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Ah Liang was not one to be vague. If he had doubts, he would ask without shame.

Before becoming the Great Sword Immortal's little padded jacket, the first thing Ah Liang did when he crossed Daoxuan Mountain and arrived at the Sword Qi Great Wall was to swagger up onto the city wall and ask Chen Qingdu a question.

"Have you heard of the sword immortal Ah Liang of the Hao Ran world?"

At the time, Chen Qingdu glanced sideways at the short sword immortal who couldn't even stand level with Lu Zhi, and he chuckled in reply, "I know your father."

Ah Liang, being Ah Liang, laughed heartily and smacked his fist into his palm. "Old man, your temper suits me. You've got to have my back from now on."

Probably thinking that joy shared was joy doubled, and since drinking alone had no flavor, Ah Liang started asking Chen Qingdu again: "Have you heard of the most celebrated Bai Ye of the human world, or the sword art of Pei?—one of the Three Marvels of Hao Ran..."

At that time, Chen Qingdu just clasped his hands behind his back and paced along the city wall.

Ah Liang trotted along beside him, talking until his mouth was dry. He even started listing the Golden Core sword cultivators he knew, just to impress the old man.

Finally, at his wit's end, he had to pull out the ultimate move.

When it came to fighting a large group single-handedly, Ah Liang considered himself a master, a master among masters. But that Chen Qingliu seemed even stronger—it didn't make sense!

Being Ah Liang, the Great Sword Immortal eventually gave him a response, though it wasn't really an answer. It made Ah Liang gain a lot and learn a unique skill.

"Anyway, as long as you practice the sword, no one can be stronger than me. Why should I bother my head with that? Figure it out yourself."

After walking a bit more, Chen Ping'an reached out, pressed down on the sable hat on Xie Gou's head, and said with a smile, "Don't be so impulsive in the future. It's not worth it."

The White-Haired Child's eyes darted quickly. There was a story here! Knowing the Hidden Official Ancestor's usual style, this story probably didn't involve romantic intrigue. Had Xie Gou been in a fight with someone?

Xie Gou laughed heartily. "Heroes act with pleasure, sages suffer in silence. We sword cultivators are heroes unparalleled!"

On the coast of Treasure Bottle Continent, a solitary peak loomed, jutting up like a sword pointing at the sky.

It was a barren place without spiritual energy, so historically, no qi refiner had lived there in seclusion. The mountain was nearly untouched by human traces.

But on the peak now stood an unkempt Daoist with messy hair, barefoot, carrying an umbrella on his back.

This Daoist Ge called himself "Three Hundred Coins Daoist," with the alias Huainan. Back when the Confucian Temple canonized the Five Sacred Mountains of Treasure Bottle Continent, Daoist Ge had appeared at the Central Mountain, Chezi Mountain, and sent distant congratulations to the Mountain Lord's mansion. The true person across from him didn't recognize him, and even Mountain Lord Jin Qing failed to identify the Daoist's roots. But Chen Qingliu, who knew his stuff, found traces.

In the territory of the former Zhu Ying dynasty, the Central Mountain Chezi Mountain's ancestral peak, Diezhang Peak, was once one of Old Daoist's many alchemy sites. Later, when the old mountain lord—who chose Jin Qing as his successor—had originally worked as Old Daoist's fire-tending boy for a hundred years.

Before Old Daoist went on his wanderings, he didn't tell the young boy when he would return. He only left him an unerring prophecy: that Diezhang Peak would eventually be ruled by a sincere stone gatherer who burned incense.

Previously, Chen Qingliu had taken Old Daoist to meet his younger disciple Liu Chicheng and his grand-disciple Gu Can, introducing him as Fellow Daoist Zi Qing. According to the barefoot Daoist himself, he and Chen Qingliu could be considered half-friends.

Old Daoist, with a worried frown, was waiting here for someone. The one who had gone on a sea voyage was precisely Chen Qingliu, who said to wait a little while—he'd go and come back. But he might also never return, and this would be a farewell. So, Fellow Daoist only needed to wait half an hour.

Daoist Ge naturally knew what Chen Qingliu was going to do. It wasn't that he didn't want to stop him, but he couldn't keep him. No amount of persuasion would work.

Old Daoist looked melancholy. Old friends on the road were withering away, and farewells often turned into eternal partings. It was a pity that the spring grass bloomed anew every year in the same old places.

On the peak, beside the barefoot old Daoist, stood two people who were connected by a thread: one by a distant relationship, the other by a bit of history. This old and this young pair had recently moved here, building a thatched hut and digging a well in the solitary mountain. The old one was Daoist Ge's junior brother, the former head of the Wei family of Taoye Lane in Lizhu Cave Heaven, Wei Benyuan. Or, to be precise, the awakened and remembered Daoist Wang Pi. Like Lu Yue, who was a native of Lizhu Cave Heaven, he was one of the unregistered disciples of Master Three Mountains Nine Marquises. Back when the turmoil occurred in Lizhu Cave Heaven, it took root and descended to become a blessed land. Wei Benyuan left his hometown, chose a mountain hollow outside the Clear Wind City of the Xu clan, and lived in seclusion to refine alchemy. His main purpose was to help his maidservant Taoya, whom he regarded as his own granddaughter, to seek an opportunity in the fox kingdom—to see if she had the fortune to first become the master of the fox kingdom, and then become the new ruler of the entire fox clan. If successful, then as for Taoya's future fourteenth realm, it wasn't that he dared say she would definitely harmonize with the Dao, but at least there was a glimmer of hope.

Unfortunately, it didn't work out. Taoya did obtain a great opportunity within the fox kingdom. In principle, she could follow the prescribed order—on the path of cultivation, she would encounter various opportunities: tribulations to cross, Dao to cultivate... but not long after, the entire fox kingdom was abducted and ended up in Fallen Mountain, which was on his home turf.

Wang Pi was helpless about this. The scriptures said, "You wear out iron shoes in search of them, yet you get them without effort." Why was it that when he toiled to go to the mountain, the mountain instead grew legs and ran away?

Fortunately, Wang Pi was broad-minded. He thought this must be what they call "heaven's will in the unseen." If you stubbornly force things, you'll lose by striving too hard—this was probably missing the opportunity? Would it harm Taoya? So Wang Pi confessed his thoughts and plans to Taoya. Taoya was even more carefree. Instead of complaining, she was overjoyed and relieved. She repeatedly said it didn't matter. She comforted Uncle Wei, saying that if she could become a terrestrial immortal, which she had always dreamed of, she would be extremely happy. Any more fortune, she might not be able to handle. She was timid and didn't dare to fight or kill with anyone. That kind of inexplicable great-path struggle, treacherous and tumultuous, was too dangerous—just hearing about it scared her to death.

Daoist Ge asked with a smile, "Taoya, to be fair, without considering intentions, if we really count it, Fallen Mountain did cut off your great path. Do you have any resentment in your heart?"

Taoya was momentarily stunned.

Daoist Ge continued, "To make an imperfect analogy: you were at a gambling table betting small, hoping to win big, and someone took the entire table away."

Taoya carefully replied, "Uncle Ge, I don't like gambling."

Seemingly naive and simple, Taoya's abacus was clicking loudly in her mind. Fallen Mountain had probably already heard it. She was an orphan from Nilpotent Alley in her hometown. To have come this far, she didn't think she had the capability to lock horns with Mountain Lord Chen. Why would she gamble her life to oppose him? Besides, he hadn't targeted her intentionally. The gambling table had been removed, but the chips and winnings she had left on the table weren't taken away. She could just take what she had and quit while she was ahead.

The two Daoists exchanged smiles.

Wang Pi looked at the vast, boundless sea and asked softly, "Senior Brother Ge, this won't blow up, will it?"

Daoist Ge said, "Hard to say. Yin-Yang deduction and divination can't calculate the fourteenth realm; they'll take their own path. That Fellow Daoist is a loner. A barefoot man doesn't fear the well-shod. If he occasionally acts on impulse, he can bear the consequences alone."

Wang Pi said, "But that Fellow Daoist Qingzhu has a White Emperor City now, with disciples and grand-disciples. His tradition is passed down."

Daoist Ge chuckled bitterly. "If Fellow Daoist Qingzhu turns the world upside down, does he need to worry about his first disciple's safety?"

Wang Pi was speechless.

Daoist Ge sighed. "Let's just hope the road of the human world doesn't turn on today's 'Confrontation of Two Chens.'"

The matter was so important that Daoist Ge even asked his master if there was a way to resolve it. But Master Three Mountains Nine Marquises didn't respond to his direct disciple's inner plea.

If it could be said that flood dragons, all dragon descendants, water immortals, and qi refiners who cultivated water methods would be suppressed to varying degrees by Chen Qingliu's sword technique,

then pushing a bit further back, one would reach an even more astonishing conclusion: the waterside areas of the world were equivalent to sword immortal Chen Qingliu's Dao field?

And if one made another bold assumption—that during his three-thousand-year silence, besides honing his sword edge, could it be that the River of Time, in a broad sense, counted as a type of waterside for Chen Qingliu?

Moreover, being able to reduce a natal flying sword's name from two characters to one, and then polish it to perfection—that was the foundation and confidence of Chen Qingliu today.

This was also the great-path gift from the successful Dragon-Slaying Battle. Three thousand years ago, there were countless flood dragons in the world. The palaces under the sea and on land rivers multiplied. The Confucian Temple had to open a separate book for them. The flood dragons remained stubborn, dividing territories as kings, delighting in hoarding treasures to satisfy their selfish desires. The dragon sons and grandsons rested on their laurels. They were unruly, refusing to be governed by mountain and water spirits, clashing with various sword immortals, stirring up waves and causing misery. Eventually, they became estranged from the Confucian Temple.

They had unknowingly fallen into a state of "heavenly disgust."

It must be known that the earliest ancient sword immortals—for example, in ancient Shu territory—didn't originally go to hunt for treasures. They simply couldn't stand it anymore.

It seemed that Lu Chen, who said, "If the Way doesn't prevail, I'll float on the sea on a raft," had once advised the most ancient dragon kings with the highest divine status: "You should restrain yourselves and clean up your act, or your incense offerings will be cut off."

They didn't believe him.

Or perhaps the accumulated evils were too deep, the chronic ills too hard to cure. The dragon kings who had experienced the Battle of Ascending to Heaven, even if they wanted to do something, were ultimately powerless to turn the tide.

Wang Pi said worriedly, "They are all sword cultivators. One is an old fourteenth realm, the other a young sword immortal with strong personal strength and background. If they confront each other, it's very easy for a single disagreement to lead to a falling out."

Although he had recovered his realm and memories from his previous life, he still subconsciously regarded himself as a native of Lizhu Cave Heaven.

And Chen Ping'an was the most outstanding figure among the younger generation of his hometown. Wang Pi didn't want such a young man to have his path blocked and fade into obscurity.

Similar to a certain great cultivator from Aiai Continent falling into a similar situation.

Daoist Ge laughed. "From the tone, it sounds like you're biased toward Chen Ping'an."

Wang Pi showed a hint of pride. He said with a smile, "I'm not familiar with Fellow Daoist Qingzhu. I've never even seen him. But back in the small town, I recognized Chen Ping'an's potential very early. Maybe I was one of the earliest? One of them?"

Daoist Ge nodded and smiled. "If Mountain Lord Chen saw this unknown Daoist, he would at most greet me as 'Senior' or 'Immortal Lord Ge' out of politeness. But if he met you again, he would sincerely call you 'Grandpa Wei.'"

Outside the small town, there was a patch of Immortal Graves. The deed was still in the hands of the Wei family.

Even at the peak of the dynasty—when one state was a continent—the Great Li Song family had not troubled the Wei family of Taoye Lane over this matter, forcing them to transfer the deed or buy it under duress.

Only because the specific layout of the dragon-trapping method in Lizhu Cave Heaven was designed by the previous self, Wang Pi. Therefore, the area of the Immortal Graves was the reward that the later self, Wei Benyuan, should have received.

At that time, a Dharma edict was issued by his master, instructing him to go and receive his junior brother—the Wei Benyuan of Taoye Lane, a Daoist who had committed the greatest sin by discussing Yin-Yang and the Five Elements with Zouzi.

Actually, the previous self, Wang Pi, was not a direct disciple. He was only an unregistered disciple of Master Three Mountains Nine Marquises.

And this exactly was Wang Pi's mental knot. He wanted too much to prove himself—that he was worthy of being a direct disciple.

Xie Gou didn't think much of the Daoists in the current age. She felt that the qi refiners of today didn't have a firm enough heart for seeking the Dao.

But it wasn't entirely true. There were always exceptions. Because Senior Brother Ge had revealed the truth, Wang Pi complained, "What was True Man Yu thinking? Why did he have to drag Chen Ping'an into this muddy water? A wealthy man who never worried about money in his life—he just lent a bit of money, and now he's unhappy?"

Daoist Ge teased, "Junior Brother, that's easy for you to say standing up. Try lending that much money out."

Wang Pi laughed loudly. "If I had a few hundred or a thousand gold essence copper coins, I would have lent them long ago."

Daoist Ge asked, "Do you have them, Junior Brother?"

Wang Pi said, "I don't, so I can say that. Easy to claim."

Daoist Ge stretched out a hand. "Coincidentally, I happen to have five hundred gold essence copper coins on hand. I'll lend them to you first, and you lend them to Chen Ping'an. We'll negotiate the interest first, and then you negotiate the interest with Chen Ping'an. Profit or loss—we brothers each rely on our own skills?"

Wang Pi tried to push his senior brother's arm back, but couldn't budge it. They were deadlocked.

Daoist Ge smiled. "Over at True Martial Mountain, they've already made their gesture. Junior Brother, as a hometown elder who was the first to see Mountain Lord Chen's potential, won't you show a little something?"

Wang Pi smiled bitterly. "Better to keep my distance."

Daoist Ge withdrew his hand. "Then let's compromise: the Wei family can return that patch of Immortal Graves to the Great Li Song family."

Wang Pi nodded. "I'll write a letter immediately and send it to the ancestral home at Taoye Lane."

Daoist Ge muttered to himself, "Chen Qingliu is close to Fallen Mountain—that's a fact."

Otherwise, he wouldn't have drunk so many times with Chen Lingjun.

That Azure-Clad Child, a water snake from the Yellow Court Kingdom's Imperial River, now an aquatic dragon of the infant soul realm after a successful river rampage, was a retainer of Fallen Mountain. Even the first blank page of that collection of passerby profiles dared not write his name.

If we also count the blind Daoist Jia Sheng, whom Chen Qingliu first attached himself to, plus the two from Northern Juzhou Continent—the coachman Bai Mang and the Confucian scholar Chen Turbid Flow—they could fill a table.

They were all Chen Lingjun's closest friends from his own circle.

Every time Daoist Ge thought about this scenario, he felt... speechless.

Above the sea, a blue light suddenly flashed.

Daoist Ge's dao heart shook. He took a deep breath.

Wang Pi, understanding the gravity of the situation, was even more nervous.

Chen Qingliu appeared on the mountain peak in an instant. He flicked his sleeves and said jokingly, "You two Daoists, so worried about worldly affairs?"

Daoist Ge asked, "Did you see Mountain Lord Chen?"

Chen Qingliu nodded. "I did."

Wang Pi asked, "What happened?"

Chen Qingliu asked back with a smile, "If I remember correctly, my relationship with Immortal Lord Ge is half-cooked, like a pot of barely cooked rice. And am I very familiar with Fellow Daoist Wang? Am I, as a man of rank, forgetting old friends?"

Wang Pi smiled and clasped his fists in apology to this sword immortal, whose dao name was Qingzhu.

Chen Qingliu nodded. "Low in cultivation, big in tolerance. Just the opposite of Zouzi."

Wang Pi was extremely embarrassed and didn't dare to pick up that thread.

Daoist Ge said, "Fellow Daoist Qingzhu, don't keep us in suspense."

Chen Qingliu brushed his sleeve; remnants of sword qi seemed to linger, intertwined with electric sparks, crackling. Daoist Ge's eyelids twitched.

Chen Qingliu said, "Regardless, since I owe Mr. Qi a huge favor, I have to give his junior junior brother an equally huge face."

The first person to see through "Jia Sheng" was the scholar Qi Jingchun.

Qi Jingchun had even taken the initiative to invite out Chen Qingliu's true body. They had a pleasant chat over wine. Later, because Qi Jingchun took on the burden of three thousand years of accumulated karma and all the heavenly backlash from Lizhu Cave Heaven, and since Wang Zhu had not yet restored her true dragon identity, Qi Jingchun effectively took on that sword strike for him. He let Chen Qingliu, who was still at the flying ascension realm at the time, bear the counterattack from the surging true dragon qi. Chen Qingliu never liked owing anyone anything, so he certainly had to repay it.

Earlier at the East Sea Water Spirit Palace, that very clever young man had known not to call for Old Scholar or Li Saint as reinforcements. Instead, he brought up Mr. Qi, who hadn't been called 'Brother Qi'—Qi Jingchun.

That forced Chen Qingliu to repay the favor earlier than planned.

Chen Qingliu laughed. "Don't worry. An orphan from Nilpotent Alley, a pitiful child raised by the whole village, becoming the famous Mountain Lord Chen today—there's a reason for it."

Daoist Ge pondered in silence.

Wang Pi couldn't help but ask again, "Did Mountain Lord Chen call the Wen Saint?"

Daoist Ge shook his head. The thinking was too simple.

Unlike his junior brother Wang Pi, Daoist Ge had been watching the sky. It wasn't Yu Xuan's figure—it was Li Saint!

Chen Qingliu burst into laughter. "Calling Old Scholar would have stopped me? With the human path approach to the fourteenth realm, merely harmonizing with Fuyao, Treasure Bottle, and Tongye continents."

Wang Pi clicked his tongue in amazement.

Chen Qingliu said calmly, "When I resolve to draw my sword, no amount of face can stop me."

In the sea, at the water spirit palace, even if Old Scholar had appeared in person, he couldn't have stopped Chen Qingliu from delivering a beheading strike. That was why Chen Qingdu had suggested that Chen Ping'an should also call in Li Saint.

If Li Saint was willing to return from beyond the heavens to Hao Ran, Chen Qingdu would be unable to kill Wang Zhu for the time being.

But then, you people of the Central Earth Confucian Temple would have to guard against a thief every day for a thousand days.

Li Saint was outstanding in combat—Chen Qingliu certainly admitted that. But to say he could imprison him in the Golden Horizon Monastery—still impossible.

Unless Li Saint was first willing to strip Wang Zhu of her true dragon identity, then Chen Qingliu would accept either dropping his realm or eating prison food in the Golden Horizon Monastery.

The problem was that Li Saint couldn't bring himself to do such a thing.

So if that young man, relying on his many backers—an immortal realm sword immortal—dared to be ignorant of the danger and think he could single-handedly stop him with a few harsh words, once Chen Qingliu was truly angered, he would first kill the true dragon Wang Zhu, and then kill Chen Ping'an as well.

That kid certainly had a few life-saving tricks up his sleeve.

Maybe he would become a ghost.

But unfortunately, the path of ghosts had been taken by someone else. To harmonize with the fourteenth realm through that was now hopeless.

"Sorry, besides being a fourteenth realm sword immortal, I also have a good disciple."

"As a master, I never know what Zheng Huaixian really wants to do. And I'm not sure if he'll get involved in this."

"The question is, can your Confucian Temple be sure of Zheng Juzhong's true intentions?"

"Then don't gamble."

Daoist Ge glanced at the sword qi on his sleeve and asked curiously, "What happened?"

Chen Qingliu laughed. "Out of nowhere, a girl in a sable hat jumped out. She said she wanted to see with her own eyes whether my sword technique was worthy of the fourteenth realm."

Daoist Ge asked, "Was it the flying ascension realm perfect Baijing?"

Chen Qingliu nodded. "It was her."

That sword duel was stopped before it went too far. No harm was done to their friendship.

The main thing was that Baijing's actions were strange, as if she deliberately took a wound.

Daoist Ge understood.

That made sense. Very reasonable.

"Xiaomo" would at most ask Little Master for a sword duel.

But Baijing was someone who dared to stealthily rain down a torrent of sword techniques on the heads of an ancient scholar's convoy.

Daoist Ge asked, "How was her sword technique?"

Chen Qingliu didn't seem inclined to answer that question.

Daoist Ge waited patiently, as if determined to get a fair assessment from Chen Qingliu.

For example, in the current worlds, were there any sword cultivators comparable to her in sword technique height or killing power?

How did the unregistered disciple Lu Yue, now the flying ascension realm sword immortal Bai Shang, compare? How big was the gap?

Or whether Baijing showed any signs of harmonizing with the Dao recently. In this great year, this good era within the next hundred years, did she have a chance to harmonize?

Chen Qingliu seemed to give a non-answer. "That's a sword cultivator."

Sword immortal Baijing was, in his view, what a true sword cultivator should be.

Daoist Ge said, "I'm planning to go to the Western Buddhist Kingdom. Fellow Daoist Qingzhu, are you interested in traveling together?"

Chen Qingliu thought for a moment and nodded. "I can go take a look there."

Wang Pi's feelings were mixed.

He had forgotten who had once given a strange, profound assessment.

"Sword cultivators of the human world are martyrs."

Suppressing the strange feeling in his heart, Wang Pi asked, "Fellow Daoist Qingzhu, you are an old fourteenth realm cultivator. What do you think of the new fourteenth realms?"

Chen Qingliu laughed. "Think? I don't even look."

Wang Pi was speechless again.

Daoist Ge understood the reason. It wasn't that Chen Qingliu was too arrogant. First, old-timer fourteenth realm cultivators could accumulate Dao strength and broaden their paths, turning a so-called single-log bridge into something incredibly wide, deepening their realm foundations. Especially someone like Chen Qingliu, who could further hone his sword edge using the results of the Dragon-Slaying Battle, taking a huge step forward. Second, those new fourteenth realms who benefited from that torrential rain—some were pushed by external forces, some were dragged by others, and some were of the lowest grade—had taken certain shortcuts of heterodox methods. They were far inferior to the self-created paths of Old Blind Man and Chen Qingliu, who essentially created their own destiny, forced their way through the door, harmonized with heaven and earth through their own strength, and then enjoyed vast freedom.

Chen Qingliu clasped his hands behind his back, his expression indifferent.

Those who don't know me call me arrogant. Those who know me call me principled.

What is true freedom? I only bow to myself.

――――

Note 1, Chapter 854 "A Caged Sparrow"
Note 2, Chapter 950 "Future Matters"
Note 3, Chapter 790 "Preparations for Battle"
Note 4, Chapter 1079 "Half a Book of the Human World"
Note 5, Chapter 32 "Taoye Leaves"