Chapter 1143: Who Dares Found a Sect and Be Called Ancestor
The site where the ancient conflict between water and fire concluded.
Jiang She's figure arrived in an instant, and he threw a punch straight at Chen Ping'an's face without warning.
Chen Ping'an did not hurry to draw his sword; instead of retreating, he advanced as if going to meet a mountain and then shake it, catching Jiang She's punch with a single hand.
But the moment fist met fist, a vortex of time appeared in the sky above them. This was a phenomenon born from the collision and agitation between their fist intent and the River of Time.
Within the vortex of time, various strange scenes emerged one after another, appearing endlessly, revealing the slaughter processes of different ancient battlefields, like vivid murals.
After all, this was a punch from an eleventh-rank martial artist. Chen Ping'an's figure was sent backward, retreating again and again, stretching into a green line over ten miles long in an instant. Finally he steadied himself, his sleeves billowing and churning, like a series of muffled thunderclaps. Chen Ping'an flicked his wrist in a sword flower, the tip gleaming with flowing golden light.
"Some strength. If it were an aggressive martial artist who dared to catch this punch head-on, he'd probably be reincarnated by now."
Standing where Chen Ping'an had been, Jiang She twisted his wrist, dispersing the fist intent, showing a hint of appreciation. He smiled and said, "Compared to last time at Taiping Mountain when you took half a punch and pretended to be dead by falling down, you've improved a lot."
The five portions of martial fortune within his body, using two against three, formed a battlefield of ceaseless conflict within Jiang She's small personal world, like three bands of rebels causing chaos. This inevitably made Jiang She somewhat irritable; he had to divert his attention to suppress them, like an emperor forced to personally lead an expedition to quell a rebellion, and he was even at a numerical disadvantage.
Jiang She didn't need any words, or even the slightest use of spiritual energy. He simply beckoned. The earth fissure he had created earlier by stomping with his knee actually formed a "mountain range" grand formation, with the central area being the Ancestral Dragon Mountain, and the rest being dragon veins extending from it.
This move was like the intaglio technique of later generations for carving seals. When Jiang She issued his decree, the formation rose from the ground, mountains undulating, appearing pitch black but otherwise identical in shape to the mountain ranges of the world. The formation descended like a great mountain pressing down, smashing toward Chen Ping'an's distant mustard-seed-sized figure. It was like a mountain-shaped seal as big as the Inverted Suspension Mountain, using the earth as rice paper, stamping toward Chen Ping'an with lightning speed.
Chen Ping'an remained motionless, simply raising his long sword and making a freehand slash upward, easily shattering it.
The lofty mountains collapsed, and the infinite Dao meaning contained in the formation, lacking its central pivot, turned into a torrential downpour, splashing everywhere. Countless golden raindrops fell to the ground in a dazzling spectacle.
A suppression of the Great Way, like a heavenly tribulation.
And he cut it down with a single sword stroke.
Jiang She smiled. If that was all there was to it, how would he dare to boast about killing half of the One and then ascending to heaven again to face Zhou Mi? As those golden raindrops touched the ground, they absorbed some earth nature and transformed into golden colossal warriors. Hundreds of thousands of them, clad in armor, stood up and formed formations to besiege Chen Ping'an. Meanwhile, the not-quite-completely-shattered mountain ranges transformed in midair into imposing divine generals clad in various armors, hundreds or thousands of feet tall, wielding weapons, using various divine abilities or unleashing offensive techniques. Thousands of divine abilities and techniques piled up like a dense volley of arrows, chaotically converging on Chen Ping'an...
Chen Ping'an wore a smile, holding his long sword. With a slight stir of his mind, sword light flowed out, weaving into a bright, shining full moon.
This full moon suddenly expanded. The moon phase wrapped around the sword, enveloping the green-shirted swordsman with a jade hairpin. The sword energy was unmatched in strength; moonlight was like water, instantly flooding the entire human world.
What divine abilities? What techniques? What colossal warriors on the earth? What golden-armored gods suspended in the air? The vast, sweeping momentum of slaughter was all washed away by the sword energy, dissipating silently without a sound.
Chen Ping'an frowned slightly and looked down. He saw a short halberd with colorful treasure light thrust into his heart, somehow piercing through his heart and back.
He slowly pulled out the halberd, which was not a physical object, and added a bit of pressure with his fingers to lightly crush it. At the spot where the halberd had pierced his heart, there was only a mass of thick, mercury-like golden light, not a trace of blood. Hence it was not a fatal wound. Calling it an injury might even be a stretch. This was the strength of this divine body—unblemished, pure, without flaws or gaps, the Great Way circulating endlessly on its own.
Indeed, for the half of the One in the human world who could remotely contend with Zhou Mi of the Heavenly Court, once Chen Ping'an stopped hiding his true power, was he really so easy to kill?
Jiang She stood at a distance, reaching out to grasp the long spear "Break Formation," pressing one hand against his cheek, laughing in exasperation.
Just now, he had been careless. A mysterious and elusive green flying sword had pierced through his cheek. The wound healed very quickly, and Jiang She was naturally fine, but he had lost some face.
Still, the flying sword had scraped away a drop of his blood. Chen Ping'an raised his hand to tuck the flying sword Fifteen into his sleeve, rubbing that trophy between two fingers, showing some regret in his expression. It was a pity it didn't involve his original life soul; otherwise, if it were like Zheng Juzhong tracking down and killing the great demon Hu Tu, there would have been profit. Chen Ping'an flicked that drop of blood to the ground, and beside him appeared a "Jiang She" of little use.
This false image, temporarily forged by Chen Ping'an using talisman techniques, was mediocre in killing power but had other uses. It was like a rubbing used to investigate the number of grotto-heavens within a personal world, the flow of meridians, the life-bound objects refined, and so on, allowing Chen Ping'an to glimpse some of Jiang She's internal landscape.
But before Chen Ping'an could take a second look, that "Jiang She" rebelled. Somehow Jiang She had used some means to make it turn traitor on the battlefield, punching directly at Chen Ping'an's face.
Chen Ping'an simply reached out and twisted its neck. It collapsed limply, its body melting like snow, returning to a drop of blood that tried to flee into the ground. Chen Ping'an spread his palm, and a miniature formation trapped it, then he confined it inside an invisible white bowl suspended above his palm. The drop of blood spun around incessantly, bumping into walls everywhere, like the sun and moon rolling on a plate.
Jiang She suddenly released the long spear and asked, "Do you dare to have a fair and aboveboard martial arts duel?"
Chen Ping'an smiled as usual, "Do you dare to have a bright and upright contest of learning? Composing poems and odes, competing in literary talent?"
As he spoke, he gently shook his wrist. Inside the rough "bowl" suspended above his palm, the drop of blood evolved into seven characters: "Jiang She," "Original Soul," "Military Strategist," "Martial Arts," all in small regular script, as if written with red ink on the inner wall of a snow-white porcelain bowl, just waiting to be taken to the kiln for firing.
By the look of it, Chen Ping'an wanted to help this first ancestor of the military strategists forge a piece of life-bound porcelain?
That rough white bowl, though not yet fired, was already as thin as paper and crystal clear. Inside the bowl, the seven characters were arranged in a formation.
Jiang She narrowed his eyes. Was it bluffing, or was there substance? Could it be that on that battlefield outside the heavens, as a reward for jointly altering the trajectory of the Green Path and averting the tragedy of two worlds colliding—a great merit—the Master San Shan Jiu Hou had made an exception and passed this secret technique to Chen Ping'an?
Chen Ping'an grasped the bowl with one hand, lifting it high, staring at the still-blank bottom of the bowl, as if hesitating over what inscription to carve to make it appropriate.
"The Dipper is high in the sky."
Jiang She shook his head. "It turns out you're just putting on an act. You lack the 'firing skill.'"
Even if he learned from that girl Fu Kan in the Azure Mirror World and set up a Great Wall of Ziwei in Yin Province, it would be fine. After all, Chen Ping'an was half of the One, so he would be more legitimate than the ghost Xu Jun, and he could even become the formation's pivot himself. This battlefield site of the water-fire conflict did indeed retain quite a bit of the two Daos' remnants, a natural kiln. But as for this Dipper, the character "Zhu" could not be formed. Moreover, Jiang She was not a demon race, nor had his true name been carried by the young Hidden Official Yi'yi's sewing. Besides, Chen Ping'an was not a Fire Dragon True Monarch who had reached the fourteenth realm.
In peak duels, great cultivators all had a few trump cards up their sleeves. What they feared most were some tricky, unorthodox moves that could win by surprise.
Jiang She had suffered considerable losses on the path of cultivation from such strange moves, having his face dirtied and his cultivation eroded quite a bit. Of course, those who opposed him suffered even greater losses.
Chen Ping'an pretended to suddenly realize, as if his trick had been seen through. He indeed did not write an inscription and throw it into the dragon kiln to fire. He loosened his fingers, and the white bowl with red characters slid into his sleeve.
First, he condensed water fortune to make the bowl, then used fire fortune to refine it. This was a simulation of the water-fire conflict using the advantages of time and place, drawing on the heavenly and earthly energy. The remnant Heavenly Dao that had circulated here for ten thousand years would all regard Jiang She as a great Dao enemy that must be slain.
One link after another.
Obviously, this was returning the favor in kind. Chen Ping'an was also using military tactics.
Chen Ping'an stared straight at Jiang She with his pure golden eyes.
Every person in the world, placed in a river of time whose origin and end are unknown, is all wading through water.
There are many similarities.
On the path of cultivation, both sides had martial arts and magical techniques and divine abilities.
Jiang She was the first person in the ancient human world to personally slay a deity and shatter its golden body. For this, he received the protection of a great "human Dao" fortune.
Chen Ping'an was the first person in the town of Lizhu Cave Heaven to slay a Qi refiner. Therefore, he returned to that gambling table, and a stick of incense in the courtyard blazed with increased brightness.
Both were great transgressions, both were heretics.
Their confrontation today seemed like a kind of fate, like each being the one who collects a debt and the one who repays it.
A person's fame is like a tree's shadow.
One of the ancient world's ten greats, fourth in the human world, first ancestor of the military strategists, eleventh-rank martial artist.
Any one of these titles was enough to make a fourteenth-realm cultivator feel pressure.
Chen Ping'an had also learned a thing or two from Xiao Mo: when challenging anyone to a sword duel, don't take it too seriously. Fuck him. No matter how powerful, at best he's still just a person.
Jiang She asked, "Choosing this place as the battlefield—did you plan this ahead of time, kid?"
Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "Forgotten."
Indeed, there had been some imagined enemies, such as Wu Shuangjiang, whom he had fought on the Night Boat, Pei Qiong, one of Lu Tai's two transmitters, Bai Shang, who had conspired with Tian Wan and long planned the sword Dao fortune of Baoping Continent, and Wu Zhou, who was very likely to "ambush and seize treasures" from Chen Ping'an.
In order to imprison his own divinity, he had to choose to forget, to build a cage, to layer barrier upon barrier, to confine himself, to self-exile.
Jiang She looked at Chen Ping'an holding his long sword, showing a mocking expression. "Tsk tsk, it accepted you as master, and it created strict and insurmountable hierarchies. Why bother? It would have been better to make an equal covenant in the beginning."
In short, Chen Ping'an, now only a sword immortal at the immortal realm, had his Dao heart and realm becoming the greatest constraint on the sword wielder.
Last time they 'climbed the mountain' and met again, on the surface the sword wielder had exchanged a few strokes with Jiang She, appearing free and unrestrained. In fact, Chen Ping'an, as the master, had no killing intent at that time. To be precise, there was no intense fluctuation in his Dao heart, so the sword wielder appeared exceptionally free, just like when she killed the Armored One outside the heavens because the master Chen Ping'an was not present. Once Chen Ping'an encountered the Armored One, if he didn't have killing intent, it would be fine. But once killing intent arose, the sword wielder had to step back, had to yield the master position to Chen Ping'an, changing roles, making the latter the sword wielder.
Jiang She shook his head, his eyes full of pity, "I really feel sorry for you two doggy people, and even more embarrassed."
Otherwise, with a being as powerful as the sword wielder by his side as a thug and protector, even if Chen Ping'an were only a jade realm sword cultivator, roaming freely across the human world—would that be difficult?
Even though the sword wielder's divine status was high, she was ultimately not the ancient Heavenly Court's sovereign, and could never attain true, pure, great freedom.
Only because the other four supreme deities still could not surpass the Heavenly Dao.
Jiang She suddenly said a strange thing, "At that council by the River of Time, I believe that the moment you first saw the sword wielder, you must have been very desperate, and a little angry?"
Chen Ping'an pretended not to hear, speaking to himself, "I didn't go looking for trouble with you, but you came to me willingly."
"The key is, you even found the reason for me. I don't need to pass the heart barrier."
After a moment of silence, Chen Ping'an's expression was complicated as he murmured, "This senior brother of mine..."
He didn't know how to evaluate him, truly speechless.
---
The Barren Wasteland World.
This was a very strange traveling party, a mix of the bizarre, the divine, and the mundane.
The Nameless One of the Barren Wasteland served as the guide, the only local, leading a group of outlanders on a sightseeing tour, introducing local customs along the way. With him guiding, they could avoid many unnecessary troubles. The party's atmosphere was quite harmonious. After all, there was no enmity between them. The Nameless One considered it a casual bond, though not necessarily useful. Perhaps someday if he went to the Azure Mirror World, he would need to rely on them, at least having a place to stay.
In the Barren Wasteland, making a friend on the mountains often meant inexplicably making a group of enemies. In this regard, it was similar to the bureaucratic world of the Haoran World.
He wondered what the Azure Mirror World, full of Dao officials, was like. The Nameless One, walking alongside Zhang Fenghai, glanced back at the party behind him and smiled. Since he was curious, he would find out when he went.
This group from the Azure Mirror World were private Daoists who had established their own sect. Their ancestral mountain was Leap Month Peak, with a very small territory—just the mountain where the ancestral hall was located and a middle section of the Weak River.
The sect master was Zhang Fenghai, a new fourteenth-realm cultivator who had taken a very earthy Dao name: "Mud Tu."
The vice sect master and chief patron was Lu Tai.
Behind Lu Tai followed a native dog he had named "Lu Chen."
From the Haoran World, there was Li Huai, a worthy from an academy. He was the most ordinary one, making him quite an anomaly in this group.
Lu Tai walked beside Li Huai, asking all sorts of questions. No matter how the topic wandered, it always ended up relating in some way to Mountain Master Chen or the Hidden Official.
The Nameless One sighed, "I'm really curious—how strong is that Lin Shi of Crow Peak?"
Zhang Fenghai said, "As for killing power, I can only say he cannot be regarded as an ordinary fourteenth-realm cultivator."
The Nameless One nodded. "For us martial artists, this is almost the highest praise one can get."
Zhang Fenghai asked doubtfully, "Senior, do you always consider yourself a martial artist at heart?"
The Nameless One smiled. "Out of personal bias. The martial path, after all, is not the same as cultivating the Dao and refining Qi. The old masters who block the crossing are fewer, so naturally the opportunity is greater."
Although Zhang Fenghai had not been with the Nameless One, an ancient great demon of the Barren Wasteland without a name, for long, he felt they got along well. In fact, the Nameless One felt the same, having to repeatedly remind himself to wait and see, so that he wouldn't impulsively join the gold and jade registry of Zhang Fenghai's sect. Fate gathers and scatters like the tide rising and falling. How quietly the tide recedes; how magnificently it rises.
The Nameless One steadied his mind and asked directly, "Friend, have you now accumulated enough cultivation and merit?"
Since the other party dared to ask such a question face to face, Zhang Fenghai was willing to answer this rather taboo question, giving a straightforward answer: "I still have one tribulation to cross. When I left the Mist and Cloud Grotto, I made a pact with the Dao Ancestor to participate in the Three Teachings Debate. One tribulation ends, another begins."
The Nameless One said, "A grand storm arises from debating the Dao. Calming the storm is also a part of cultivation."
Zhang Fenghai smiled. "Exactly."
In life, be it immortal or mortal, cultivating the Dao or not, everyone has their own tribulations and fortunes.
The "small person" follows their own destiny; the "great person" is led by heavenly fate. None are exceptions.
For example, Wang Jia of Furong Continent's As-You-Wish City, whose Dao name was Xu Jun, had said he had three blade tribulations to cross: the sinking of his continent, the destruction of his sect, and his own dissolution through the sword.
When Ning Yao left home, crossed the Inverted Suspension Mountain, and traveled the various continents of the Haoran World until she stopped at the small town of Lizhu Cave Heaven, it was the same principle.
The Nameless One cupped his hands and said, "Then allow me to be petty-minded and ask a favor. After the debate is over, I'll visit you at Leap Month Peak to see if I can use that precious place to determine the direction of my Great Dao."
Zhang Fenghai nodded. "Seeking advantage and avoiding harm is human nature. There's no need to be pretentious."
The Nameless One asked, "Then what is the Heavenly Heart?"
Zhang Fenghai smiled. "When you arrive at Leap Month Peak, I can speak of it casually, and you can listen casually."
The Nameless One rubbed his chin, recalling a troubling matter. "Lord Bai might not let me pass. You could leave Mist and Cloud Grotto, but I may not be able to leave the Barren Wasteland."
Zhang Fenghai said, "This trip was originally to visit Mr. Bai to discuss a matter. Likely, the Barren Wasteland will need some kind of retreat, however insignificant. Once the general situation becomes utterly rotten, something can be preserved to continue the flame."
The Nameless One, after all, was a cultivator who had achieved the Dao, and not stupid. He immediately understood Zhang Fenghai's implication. Simply put, if the Barren Wasteland was shattered by the Haoran World, and even if Bai Ze exhausted all his strength, regardless of cost and consequences, he couldn't make up for it, then the Barren Wasteland would need one or two flames, a Dao seed, to continue shining somewhere, taking root naturally, spreading, and one day returning home... This was similar to the Flying Rise City of the Sword Qi Great Wall, Qi Tingji of the Southern Bodhisattva Continent in the Haoran World and the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect, and the protectors Cheng Quan and the old executioner Hao Su, now in the Azure Mirror World. Different paths, but the same process and careful planning.
The Nameless One said solemnly, "Regardless of whether this matter succeeds or not, I thank you in advance."
Zhang Fenghai smiled. "'Seeking advantage and avoiding harm is human nature. There's no need to be pretentious.' These words were originally said for both of us."
The Nameless One laughed heartily. If smart people were also interesting, then it was wonderful. The bonds of fate on the Dao path were truly ineffably marvelous.
Their conversation was very casual, without using telepathic communication. Li Huai had overheard some of it along the way, but only took it as celestial talk floating in the clouds, not grounded in reality.
Lu Tai asked sneakily, "Sect Master, you've smiled more today than in a whole year. What, has the matchmaker tied the red string, and the red luan star moved?"
Shi Xingyuan glanced at the Nameless One, then couldn't help but spit, finding Lu Tai's remark disgusting. "A dog's mouth can't spit out ivory!"
Lyu Bixia exclaimed in surprise, "I didn't expect the Sect Master to find a kindred spirit in this uncivilized barbaric land."
If Zhang Fenghai could really lure this great demon from the Barren Wasteland to Leap Month Peak, it would indeed be a great help. Could he serve as a... guardian of the mountain?
The Nameless One suddenly asked telepathically, "Lin Jiangxian went to your Azure Mirror World to establish a foothold. There must be a well-founded reason, right?"
Zhang Fenghai remained silent, but had a guess in his heart, clearer than when he was in Mist and Cloud Grotto, but he couldn't just blurt it out to the Nameless One, who was not yet on his sect's registry.
The White Jade Capital and Lin Jiangxian, each waiting for a "Chen"?
The White Jade Capital waited for Great Principal Kou Ming to successfully merge with the Dao.
The last ritual official of the Sword Qi Great Wall, Yan Guo, waited for the Hidden Official?
The problem was, after the latter finally arrived, what then?
---
In the forbidden land that cannot be spoken of, after seeing Zheng Juzhong, the trip was not in vain. Having confirmed that he would not attack the White Jade Capital for now, Grand Principal Lu could safely return home. A remarkable achievement!
Joy makes the spirit high. Humming a folk tune out of tune, he swung his Daoist robe sleeves higher than the Daoist crown on his head.
Lu Chen let out an "eh," stopped, spread his palm to shield his eyes, and looked into the distance. He actually spotted a figure in the distance. Lu Chen stood on tiptoe, focused his gaze, and was overjoyed. A living person! In this place, who wasn't a fellow sufferer? A fellow countryman meeting another, tears in eyes. Lu Chen tapped his toes, used a teleportation technique, and dashed toward that friend, making some noise to signal his presence so as not to be mistaken for an ill-intentioned person and unnecessarily harm the goodwill.
He saw a cultivator with a youthful face, clearly a Dao practitioner nearly at perfection, but like a withered, lifeless old tree slowly decaying here.
The cultivator sat cross-legged in the void, holding a whisk, doing breathing exercises.
With each breath, two strands of multicolored energy spurted from his nostrils, like a vast river flowing endlessly.
Just this sight alone, in any world, would make anyone exclaim, "Old immortal, truly immortal and otherworldly."
But around the cushion, ashes accumulated without dispersing, day after day, year after year, piling up in a thick layer.
Upon closer inspection, the cushion itself was made of such accumulated ashes, like the rings of an ancient tree, circle upon circle.
Lu Chen saw that the other party paid him no attention, so he had to cup his hand and say, "Friend, friend, can we have a word?"
The cultivator slowly opened his eyes. A patch of ash fell from the back of his hand. He sighed faintly, gently exhaling, and the ash drifted onto a ring of the cushion.
"Friend, what brings you here?" The cultivator spoke hoarsely in a language Lu Chen was familiar with—an ancient elegant dialect from a certain place. He remembered: it was the Chanzhou Daoist temple of Uncle Bixiao?
Lu Chen felt a pang of sympathy. Most likely, this was a friend who had angered Uncle Bixiao, and being unable to find a safe hiding place anywhere, had to come here for refuge.
Daring to provoke Uncle Bixiao, his cultivation level couldn't be too low.
Lu Chen properly performed a Daoist salute. "This lesser Daoist is Lu Chen, come specially to pay respects to senior."
The cultivator's eyes were deep, scanning the young Daoist's attire. He was silent for a moment, then asked, "That fellow nicknamed the Chanzhou Daoist, the master of Bixiao Grotto—how is he? Has he reached the fifteenth realm?"
Seeing the other's tone was energetic, and his appearance full of vigor, it seemed he was a newcomer who had arrived not long ago.
Those staying here, regardless of their origin or Dao lineage, mostly came to avoid tribulation, but had to endure the grinding of heaven.
Lu Chen nodded. "He's reached the fifteenth realm. Just a few years after returning to the Azure Mirror World, he broke through. A great event for all to celebrate. Even the White Jade Capital took the initiative to go congratulate him."
Upon hearing this, the cultivator's Dao heart trembled. Uncontrollably, fear appeared on his face.
He could no longer care about anything. He shook his sleeves, quickly raised his hand, and began to calculate.
As the old cultivator calculated and deduced, light flowed between his fingers, halos rippling layer by layer, revealing many indescribable phenomena. The cultivator's face gradually darkened as he stared intently at this young Daoist who was full of lies. "Deliberately deceiving me, wasting my energy—was it fun?"
Lu Chen sat cross-legged not far away and asked with a smile, "Senior, wouldn't it be better to also calculate the fortune of 'Lu Chen'?"
The cultivator's face alternated between dark and bright, finally settling into helplessness. He looked utterly exhausted, increasingly lifeless. "Who you are, what realm you are, what identity you have—what does it matter to me?"
Lu Chen nodded. "Makes sense."
The cultivator was rather surprised. "I didn't expect the Daoist to be skilled in martial arts as well?"
Lu Chen was also surprised. He smiled sheepishly. "Skilled? Not at all. I know a little bit. Can't be helped. I've been traveling all over for years, earning a hard day's pay with my feet, eating out in the wilderness. If I didn't know some boxing and footwork, if I didn't have some martial arts to rely on, what would I do if I encountered bandits on the road, or thieves blocking the path? Big brother, don't you think so?"
The cultivator nodded. "The Daoist speaks sense. When traveling, reason can only be spoken to those who listen to reason, but fists are a solid reason that everyone can understand."
As for earning money through physical labor, he just let it be. Not counting the years he had aged here, he had cultivated for three thousand years, traversing clouds and rivers, meeting all kinds of people with all kinds of temperaments. One like this "young" Daoist was rare indeed.
The cultivator preferred quiet, so he issued a politely worded dismissal, asking tentatively, "Since this is just a chance encounter, after the Daoist rests a while, where is he headed?"
Lu Chen said firmly, "If I feel hungry, I'll go home and eat."
---
On the Down and Out Mountain, he accompanied the Right Guardian on a patrol of the mountain. The white-haired child tucked a booklet under his arm and raised one arm, shouting, "Follow the Hidden Official Patriarch! Eat nine meals a day, get promoted, and get rich!"
After inspecting the back mountain of Gathering Spirit Peak, they parted ways. The white-haired child said he wanted to go to the Sword Worshipping Platform to supervise his beloved disciple's sword practice. He and Mi Li each cupped their hands and said, "See you in the rivers and lakes."
His "esteemed disciple" Yao Xiaoyan, haha, was the same height as the master!
The Hidden Official had silently praised the white-haired child as a "walking arsenal." He had already taught Yao Xiaoyan three sword techniques, corresponding to three life-bound flying swords.
The white-haired child didn't hurry to fly to the Sword Worshipping Platform. He walked alone on the mountain path, licked his finger, and flipped through the booklet. It was a sub-volume of a sub-volume, recording in detail the trivial matters and grudges in the mountain.
For instance, that Wen Zixi was daring enough to slander the Hidden Official Patriarch at Zheng Dafeng's place, saying that some landscape gazettes had complaints questioning why the Hidden Official didn't go to the Barren Wasteland.
Thinking of this, the white-haired child closed the booklet and muttered, "So infuriating, so infuriating!"
At that moment, a voice sounded in his heart: "There's a reason for not going."
The white-haired child felt like he had been hit with a dull blow, his heart tightening. He stood still, not moving, as if cast under a spell of immobilization.
A golden light shot from between his eyebrows. Wu Shuangjiang manifested his form and walked straight ahead. "Follow me."
The white-haired child hung his head, listlessly following. He was scared.
Given Chen Ping'an's personality, since he had promised Wu Shuangjiang to take care of the white-haired child, he would do his utmost, without any slack.
In fact, Chen Ping'an probably knew the general outcome of Wu Shuangjiang's group's inquiry at the White Jade Capital even earlier than the mountain-top cultivators of the Azure Mirror World. For example, when the compiler of the Down and Out Mountain registry had fallen to a realm close to "no realm," it was the time when this Konghou friend's body and soul were weakest. Chen Ping'an knew full well at that time that Wu Shuangjiang had certainly "died in body and Dao" in the territory of the White Jade Capital.
By reason and sentiment, in public and private, the Down and Out Mountain should immediately arrange a protector for the white-haired child. For instance, Xie Gou, or the Old Deaf Man. At least it should be a flying-ascension realm cultivator.
But since Chen Ping'an didn't do so, that itself was an answer. This answer didn't require Wu Shuangjiang, who had been to the Night Boat, the Barren Wasteland, and the Five Colors World, to tell Chen Ping'an.
With Wu Shuangjiang's talent, he naturally had a secret technique to open a "heavenly road" unknown to others, so that even the White Jade Capital and the Confucian Temple couldn't immediately detect his whereabouts.
Exchange realms.
Of course, if the Confucian Temple and the White Jade Capital were attentive, assuming such a possibility existed—that Wu Shuangjiang could "resurrect through a borrowed corpse" and then deduce the truth and process—they could watch the Down and Out Mountain and probably find clues. But the problem was that the Saint of Rites had gone to the Great Li Capital, and several of the Saint's proud students had visited the Down and Out Mountain due to the matter of the sealing... Since they said nothing, the Confucian Temple's attitude toward this matter was quite intriguing.
Earlier, when the sword wielder appeared in the Azure Mirror World, it was not some kind of demonstration by Chen Ping'an against the White Jade Capital, but a reminder to Wu Shuangjiang.
As agreed, it was time to act.
---
Liu Xiang knelt and kowtowed. After rising, he thought briefly, then took a step across continents, arriving at Parasol Leaf Continent.
Soon, a fellow Daoist "Parasol Leaf" with a wooden expression appeared beside Liu Xiang.
He wore a green jade crown, had a pair of golden eyes, and wore a jade pendant at his waist. He had an ancient appearance, with the air of a prince.
But his face was covered in scabs, and his attire kept changing: sometimes a green robe with a jade belt, sometimes plain white mourning clothes, sometimes clad in armor.
This was the result of the fortune flowing through Parasol Leaf Continent merging with the Dao, or rather, manifestation.
Liu Xiang said, "The Confucian Temple sages are full of worry for Snowy Continent, so I will favor it a bit. The Northern Parasol Continent is the most unruly, so I look upon it with favor. Your Parasol Leaf Continent has always been the most closed off, so I allowed you to manifest. In the future, when he goes to the Barren Wasteland battlefield, regardless of identity, you will follow him, as if returning the courtesy to the Barren Wasteland together."
---
For some reason, Jiang She felt that Chen Ping'an had become unfamiliar in his eyes. Stirred within this first ancestor of the military strategists, for no reason, was a killing intent born of a struggle for the Great Dao, as well as pressure.
Chen Ping'an muttered to himself, "I finally remember. The three founders of the teachings have already scattered their Daos. A change unprecedented in ten thousand years. Everyone struggles to cross over; the one who attains the Dao becomes the One. So Senior Brother Cui had already calculated it."
"Let the little junior brother lead the military strategists."
"Let Chen Ping'an found a sect and be called the ancestor."