Chapter 1151: Reaching the Summit
The young Daoist sat on a small bamboo chair, with Fallen Mountain behind him—this was what it meant to have a backing! Xianwei licked his finger and turned a page. Unbeknownst to him, the snow-white paper and pitch-black words had taken on a faint rosy hue. The Daoist looked up, and sure enough, the sun was setting beyond the western hills, with blushing fiery clouds still clinging to the sky, reluctant to leave the human world.
"A book in the sleeve is true wealth; today, free of worries, a minor immortal."
"The river of time as my practice ground, I drift along with the days like a leisurely fish."
Having finished his patrol, even escorting Grandpa Sun, who had been busy all day, all the way to his doorstep, Xiaomili arrived at the foot of the mountain. She tugged at the strap of her sling bag and asked tentatively, "Daoist Xianwei?"
The Daoist Xianwei understood and nodded with a smile. "Wrapping up now. Just happened to have free time—let's have a crack."
This was a code shared only between him and Xiaomili. "Having a chat" and "cracking nuts"—both could be described with the same word.
Fallen Mountain was no ordinary peak. Visitors came and went, but not frequently. Even when they did receive guests, none were mundane. When idle, they were truly idle; when busy... well, it wasn't his concern anyway. The mountain master had been generous, directly allocating that Incense Volcano to Xianwei and his newly accepted disciple as their "founding" practice ground. Lately, Xianwei and Lin Feijing had been busy over there, shouldering hoes, carrying baskets, with hatchets at their waists, working together to build bridges and pave roads, gradually constructing rest pavilions and thatched huts... Crude as they might be, and not requiring much refinement, it was still a matter of "adding bricks and tiles to one's own home." No matter how you looked at it, it filled the heart with joy. Xianwei hadn't asked for a single tael of silver from Wei Wenlong, the accountant of Jise Peak Spring Mansion. His salary as the gatekeeper was more than enough, and besides, whenever Chief Zhou visited the mountain, would he come empty-handed? A man with a bulging moneybag stands tall. I am no longer impoverished—I know I'm a rich man!
Nuanshu had passed along the message that it was the mountain master's wish: Xianwei could spend more time at Incense Volcano in the near future, attending to important matters. The mountain gate could be left unguarded without issue. Xianwei was best at not being polite with polite people. He immediately humbly accepted the mountain master's suggestion. At Incense Volcano, during breaks from labor with his cheap disciple, they would chew on dry rations with pickles, listening to the babbling of the stream. Amid the mountain flowers, they'd share a jug of glutinous rice wine. Looking around, he felt that every day was a fine season of renewed vigor.
On Fallen Mountain, there was no one who didn't like Xiaomili. But if you asked who chatted with her the most—counting the actual word count—it was indeed the gatekeeper, Daoist Xianwei, by a wide margin. Not even Nuanshu and Chen Lingjun could compare.
Xianwei genuinely enjoyed talking with Xiaomili, always engaging with interest, never showing the slightest boredom.
Even Chen Lingjun and Bai Xuan admired him for it. It was a pity Xianwei hadn't opened a school to teach.
During her patrols, Xiaomili would also save up her spontaneous, whimsical ideas. When she reached the mountain gate, she'd take them out and share them with Daoist Xianwei.
Occasionally, a few would slip away, but she'd often pick them up again on her next patrol.
The big and the small, one topic leading to another, chatted aimlessly, like skating on watermelon rinds. One had no sorrows, the other no worries—whatever they talked about, their brows were relaxed, languid and carefree. Xianwei, like a farmer, stuck his hands into his sleeves, palms overlapping. "Our sorrows often come from yesterday, and our anxieties stem from worrying about what tomorrow might bring. Even if there were a recipe for immortality in this world, how could it solve what has already passed yesterday, or what has yet to come tomorrow? Buddhists say to remove the heart, not the thing. We common folk know the truth but find it hard to act. How can we truly let things follow the mind's lead?"
Xiaomili shook her head and said seriously, "Daoist Xianwei, you're a celestial practicing profound Daoist arts in the mountains!"
The young Daoist leaned back comfortably in his small bamboo chair, smiling. "Maybe Xiaomili has a clever plan? Please, enlighten me."
Xiaomili laughed, "Well, you've asked the right person!"
If he'd asked her how to practice immortal spells, sorry, the big water monster from Dumb Lake only knew about roaming the jianghu. But if it was about fighting unhappiness? Oh, she had some insights! The little girl in black rested her chin on her hands and blinked. High mountains, winding waters, chubby clouds, a big-bellied blue sky... She spoke from the heart without needing to rehearse: "Yesterday's worries and unhappiness are as small as rice grains, tiny as a speck. Put them in today's big happy bowl, eat them up to fill the gaps between teeth, then place the bowl on tomorrow's big table."
The young Daoist lightly clapped his hands in admiration. "Exactly, exactly! We should not use our finite lives to serve the infinite sorrows of the world."
Xiaomili handed him another handful of sunflower seeds. Xianwei took them and smiled. "I also have a bowl, but I didn't bring it with me—I left it in my ancestral home."
With a cup of wine in hand, great affairs are like mustard seeds; while cracking seeds, small matters are like the vast sky.
Xiaomili rubbed her cheeks, hesitating to speak.
Xianwei laughed heartily. "I wasn't born from a stone, you know. Of course I have a hometown and an ancestral home." Xiaomili cracked a seed and said softly, "Daoist Xianwei, Sister Pei said that back when you hadn't yet made your fortune, when the dragon was stranded in the shallows, you were captured by a bandit den to be an accountant. Sister Pei said that the female chieftain was big and strong, with brute force, and she coveted your... good looks, wanting to take you as her husband in the stronghold. Sister Pei also said that you refused to submit, used many tricks, pretended to be a provincial scholar on his way to the capital exam, promising that if you passed, you'd return to formally marry her with an eight-palanquin procession. Only then did the chieftain let you go. At parting, you wielded your brush and left a calligraphy piece for the den: 'Heaven rewards diligence.' The bandits roared in approval, shaking the skies, and the chieftain sent you down the mountain, crying like pear blossoms in the rain. Is that true? What a twisty and exciting story!"
Xianwei blushed, his head spinning. "Embarrassing, embarrassing."
Some of it had been embellished by Little Black Char back then, but some was true. For instance, the chieftain was actually spirited and beautiful. As for vows of eternal love, those didn't exist.
There was a local saying: when something is meaningless, they'd say "no hall." In wealthy homes, the main hall would have a plaque hanging.
So if a bandit den that waylaid travelers hung a plaque saying "Heaven rewards diligence" to motivate themselves daily—Daoist Xianwei, did you ever consider the feelings of the nearby villagers and passing merchants? Xianwei recalled some memories and said softly, "Calling it a bandit den, it was really just people forced into the mountains to survive. They robbed for money but never took lives. After getting money, the bandits even gave IOUs. In all my travels, that was a first. The den's biggest hauls were from officials returning home after resigning their posts, with bulging official purses. Hah, they'd hire a hundred porters and march grandly. Can you imagine? When those officials left office, they'd dismantle not just the desks and chairs in the government office, but even the windows to take home. I remember the den was always saving up, planning to repay debts and then establish a real jianghu sect, working as escort couriers. Every time they drank and talked about it, men, women, young, old—their eyes would shine."
Xiaomili cupped her chin in her hands, listening intently, hanging on every word as Xianwei recounted that past.
Glancing at the sky, Xianwei raised his sleeve, gave it a gentle shake, closed his eyes, and began to count on his fingers.
Setting up a fortune-telling stall, being able to calculate, having a golden tongue—this was a wandering Daoist's bread and butter skill.
Xiaomili asked curiously, "Daoist Xianwei, what are you doing?"
Xianwei slowly opened his eyes and said seriously, "Calculating whether there will be green pepper stir-fried ham on the table today."
Xiaomili rolled her eyes.
Xianwei patted his belly and laughed. "Food is the priority of the people—can't fool myself."
Xiaomili suddenly said, "Also calculate if there's braised bamboo shoots."
Xianwei asked, "If the Right Protector places an order, wouldn't the old chef happily give it his twelve percent effort?"
Xiaomili explained, "Zhong Diyi has no sense of propriety. Three meals a day plus a midnight snack, ordering every single time—he's already pissed off the old chef. I'm not going to add fuel to the fire."
Besides, the old chef privately gave her and Sister Nuanshu all kinds of pastries every few days, so many that she could hardly remember their names.
Xianwei nodded vigorously, inwardly grateful to that toothpick-chewing elder Zhong Qian. Without his valiant charge, Xianwei and Zheng Dafeng wouldn't have been able to have private meals every time.
On the mountain path, a young man with a face like jade slowly walked up. Xianwei was long past being surprised, but he couldn't be impolite. He and Xiaomili stood up.
Arriving at the mountain gate, the young man pointed to a peak very close to Fallen Mountain, introduced himself, and smiled. "A distant relative is not as good as a near neighbor. I come from Celestial Capital Peak. My surname is Lu, given name Shen, Daoist title 'Tianbian' (Heaven's Edge)."
Xianwei gave a Daoist salute. "A pleasure. I am Xuanxu (Mysterious Void), unworthily serving as the gatekeeper of Fallen Mountain. Greetings, Fellow Daoist Lu."
"Tianbian," eh? Not a bad title. Xuanxu—let's see whose title sounds more grand.
Xiaomili, however, was curious why the ever-diligent chronicler hadn't shown up.
Lu Shen subtly shifted his stance, expression unchanged. "Daoist Xuanxu and Fallen Mountain truly complement each other. A mountain is not famous for its height but for the immortals dwelling within; a mountain is not great for its size but for the way revealed there."
Xianwei was momentarily at a loss for words. Such effusive praise was a bit much. As Zheng Dafeng would say, watch the heat—be careful with the heat. Lu Shen came straight to the point. "Today I visit Fallen Mountain to inform you of something. I hope you can relay it to Mountain Lord Chen as soon as possible. In Apricot Flower Lane, Ma Kuxuan has a direct disciple who is both his founding and closing disciple—this person is a local from the town. As for the other disciples he took in elsewhere, they are all Ma Kuxuan's smoke screens. I cannot reveal this person's name further."
Xianwei was completely bewildered but still nodded in agreement.
Wei Bo followed closely behind Lu Shen to the mountain gate.
Lu Shen said, "Greetings, Lord Wei."
Wei Bo's expression was displeased. "I don't deserve that."
Lu Shen transmitted his voice mentally. "A few years ago, State Preceptor Cui visited Celestial Capital Peak and had a frank discussion with me."
Wei Bo frowned slightly.
With Lu Shen's cultivation and methods, if he wished to conceal his movements, the Great Li court wouldn't find any clues, even if they tried.
Of course, the premise was that Lu Shen's cross-continent journey to settle in Great Li had received State Preceptor Cui Chan's permission or tacit approval.
Celestial Capital Peak was located between Fallen Mountain and the town, closer than Jumping Fish Mountain and Fuyao Foothills, making it an almost neighboring peak.
On the surface, Immortal Capital Peak, with its great significance, was recorded in Great Li court files as belonging to a lineage roughly on par with the Yellow Millet School. Over the years, the perpetually misty Celestial Capital Peak housed only a dozen or so mountain cultivators, with no Earth Immortal stationed there. They lived in seclusion, even more so than Fallen Mountain as if sealing the mountain. Occasionally, a cultivator descended—a young one not yet in the middle five realms—to purchase basic supplies from the prefectural city. Celestial Capital Peak had never interacted with Fallen Mountain; they didn't even have a passing acquaintance.
The main peak of Celestial Capital Peak was slightly shorter than Fallen Mountain's main peak, Gathering Spirit Peak, so it didn't obstruct the view. At their mountain top, Chen Lingjun and the others could see the town panorama clearly. The Great Li court naturally had secret files on the identities of the three neighboring mountain lords. As the direct superior of the Five Mountains' main gods, Wei Bo could access those files at will. But over the years, Chen Ping'an had never been curious enough to inquire, and since he didn't ask, Wei Bo never brought it up. Later, Fuyao Foothills was secretly bought by Pei Qian with her savings, and Jumping Fish Mountain, private property of Ganyi from the Eternal Spring Palace, was also acquired by Cui Dongshan. Xie Gou had set her sights on Celestial Capital Peak, wanting to buy it as her dowry. But when she brought it up with Wei Bo, he only said it couldn't be bought with money; she'd have to wait until her mountain master became the Great Li State Preceptor.
Xie Gou wasn't the mountain master. She had already confirmed that Celestial Capital Peak indeed had no Earth Immortal, let alone any Upper Five Realm cultivator practicing there. If there were one, the slightest breath refining would have been detected by her.
As for a veteran Flying Immortal Realm expert skilled in concealing heavenly secrets—if such a one existed and was hiding deep—fine, but that friend had better not make a move. When Lu Shen chose to reveal himself, Wei Bo's frustration and anger stemmed here. According to his unique intelligence channels, Celestial Capital Peak did have a concealed "true master," but Wei Bo had never imagined that this person and his family were merely puppets Lu Shen pushed to the front. Thus, Wei Bo felt that his own silence had misled the usually cautious Chen Ping'an.
Damnit! This Celestial Capital Peak was right under my nose! With such a major blunder, Wei Bo shuddered to think about it.
Lu Shen, head of the Central Plains Lu Clan, titled "Tianbian" of the high Dao—others might fear and respect you, but I don't give a damn!
While Wei Bo was deeply displeased, Lu Shen was also quite frustrated. The appearance of that marten-hat-wearing girl was a huge problem. Whether out of boredom or possessing some special ability, she would occasionally split off a strand of divine consciousness, at any hour of day or night, without any pattern, sneakily inspecting Celestial Capital Peak. Her methods were underhanded and unrefined, forcing Lu Shen to remain constantly vigilant. He had to set up three miniature worlds and add dozens of secret techniques and restrictions to conceal his own qi. Spending some spiritual energy and immortal coins wasn't a big deal, but it was extremely disruptive, tying his hands and feet. Later, when Chen Ping'an and that marten-hat girl returned from beyond the heavens to the Central Plains Lu Clan as "uninvited guests," Lu Shen, who then appeared as a youth, knew all too well about Xie Gou—or rather, Bai Jing of the Wilderness. She was not only astonishing in sword techniques but also proficient in numerous Daoist arts. Even Lu Shen, who considered his own cultivation talent decent, almost suspected that Bai Jing might be akin to Ruan Xiu or Li Liu.
Lu Shen looked up at the mountain gate archway and muttered to himself, "An enemy's enemy isn't necessarily a friend, but at least there's a chance to become an ally."
"Zouzi is the mortal enemy of my great Dao. Above and below, I have never been able to rise—I've been extremely bitter."
"Since our goals align, he has his dragon-slaying skills, and I have my dragon-rearing methods. Let each display their abilities and compete."
In the pursuit of Dao, it is like rowing a boat upstream. The Dao heart must not retreat an inch; the spirit must not wane in the slightest.
Xiaomili had already sensed the tension in the air. Rarely had she seen Lord Wei so furious. She sat upright on her small bamboo chair, eyes watching her nose, nose watching her heart, while her mind wandered to the old chef's kitchen.
Xianwei also sat up straight, but from the corner of his eye, he studied the young man with the grand Daoist title. Judging by his attire, he didn't seem particularly wealthy, but since he could merit Lord Wei's personal reception, his status must be quite intimidating.
Wei Bo didn't bother beating around the bush with Lu Shen. He sneered, "May I ask, Head Lu, when did you arrive at Celestial Capital Peak to personally plan this grand scheme?"
The state has its laws, the family its rules, the village its customs. High-ranking mountain and river deities, within their jurisdictions, monitoring the activities of cultivators and immortal dwellings for the orthodox court, was their duty. Lu Shen said calmly, "According to local customs, the Winter Solstice is as important as the New Year. I arrived in Locust Yellow County on that day. After some preliminary geomancy, I chose Immortal Capital Peak as my temporary practice ground. On the second day of the new year, I saw Mountain Lord Chen for the first time."
Back then, the western mountains were bustling with construction—opening caves, building mansions, adding immortal qi to the practice grounds. Because Gathering Spirit Peak on Fallen Mountain had a mountain god shrine officially enshrined by the court, the Ministry of Works of Great Li had fixed specifications according to mountain and water ritual regulations. They didn't dare stint a single copper coin. The young mountain master had essentially gotten a ready-made setup; he didn't need to spend his own money on things like road building. As for trying to look rich to keep up appearances, there were people to see. At that time, Chen Ping'an only had Chen Lingjun and Nuanshu following him—three people on a big mountain, plus a mountain god without attendants or maids.
On that day, according to local custom, people would start paying New Year's visits and calling on relatives. Chen Ping'an naturally had no relatives to visit, so he simply took the green-clad child and pink-skirted girl into the mountains.
Lu Shen couldn't help but look complicated. He spoke slowly, "The straw-sandaled youth, whose great Dao was akin to water, gazing at the clouds from afar, carrying water and fire, a hatchet at his waist, ascended the great mountain, reached its summit, and saw the light of heaven."
---
On Earth Lung Mountain, Mao Zhui seemed to be imparting Daoist teachings to Nan Qiang, the sword immortal. Beside him, the old Celestial Lord Yin Xian felt gratified.
"Daoism emphasizes the natural unfolding of one's nature, and the Dao follows nature. So you were able to steadily break through and easily become an Immortal. That is your ability."
Whether a mortal can cultivate the Dao depends on having a 'path to come.' Once in the mountains and beginning to refine qi and store spirit, whether they can ultimately attain the Dao depends on finding a 'path to go.'
"Tall mountains stand, great rivers flow—all are like human expression of emotion. But can the highest mountain pierce the heavens? Can the most mighty river find any destination other than the sea?"
"You practice swordsmanship, dedicating your life to pursuing the origin of the sword path. So cultivating on Earth Lung Mountain, finding like-minded people is difficult; you inevitably feel that 'my Dao is solitary.' Over time, as your realm rises, it's easy to become proud and aloof. Of course, you have your difficulties. Serving as the abbot of the Great Wood Temple, commanding over a hundred sword cultivators, you need to shoulder the honor and decline of the Huayang Palace sword immortal lineage. Using this convenient method to rally people is perfectly fine."
Nan Qiang giggled, "Over a hundred?"
This was clearly her picking a fight. Having just taken over as the lord of Huayang Palace, Mao Zhui was bound to be busy with official duties and not fully familiar with the specifics of a tributary lineage like Great Wood Temple—perfectly understandable.
Even though Mao Zhui had once recommended her to be the master of Earth Lung Mountain, and she should be somewhat grateful, she always felt an indescribable awkwardness in his presence.
When a cultivator with keen spiritual perception has this feeling, it cannot be ignored.
Sleeping places should be small, to nourish the spirit. Studies should be large, to gather qi. Thus, the library was very tall and spacious, while Mao Zhui's residence was tiny—just a small courtyard near the entrance. Inside, there was even a white mosquito net typical of common households.
Let alone an accomplished cultivator in the mountains, even a martial artist with some skill could use invisible true qi to expel mosquitoes and flies and intimidate wild beasts.
Thankfully, no one visited his "humble home." Otherwise, Nan Qiang would have wondered if this White Bone True Man, who had long achieved Flying Immortal perfection, was putting on an act with such a spartan, earthly lifestyle.
Mao Zhui said calmly, "The Great Wood Temple's registry of Dao officials spans six generations in the ancestral hall, totaling one hundred and five people. You've been in seclusion lately, and I know more about all their current cultivation bottlenecks than you do."
Nan Qiang asked, "It seems Gao Qiong is about to go into seclusion too. Have you met her yet, Fellow Daoist White Bone?"
She was the little girl that Gao Ancestor had brought back from her hometown a few years ago. Her talent wasn't particularly outstanding, but since the palace lord had taken her up the mountain, Nan Qiang and the Great Wood Temple naturally took great interest. Mao Zhui said, "According to the extra scripture passed down by Cuivei Palace to Gao Qiong, if she practices step by step and uses it to break through her realm in seclusion, she will definitely encounter trouble. She won't cross the Dragon Gate and will likely even lose her current realm. I've already arranged for someone to secretly teach her two sword techniques—one on 'splitting water,' and one on refining a 'mirage sword.' When she reaches a state of spiritual resonance, the Dao technique will manifest the White Emperor City's Dragon Gate and a stretch of river. Immersing her mind in it, like a water dragon swimming through the river to leap the Dragon Gate, will increase her chances considerably." Nan Qiang was surprised. So this Palace Lord Mao really did have a thorough understanding of all the sword cultivators of the Great Wood Temple? Had Elder Gao secretly instructed him, or was Mao Zhui trying to gain a foothold through Great Wood Temple? A new broom sweeps clean—if the sword immortal lineage, which had seen little improvement under Elder Gao, began to flourish under Mao Zhui, wasn't that the usual tactic in the official circles of mountains and water?
Mao Zhui said, "Lu Chen has a study. It's not in his own practice ground, Nanhua City, but built in Jade Pivot City, named the 'Thousand Swords Study.'"
Nan Qiang didn't know why Mao Zhui brought this up. Wasn't it known to everyone?
Mao Zhui said slowly, "It was prepared for me."
Nan Qiang was astonished.
She generously admitted her mistake, abashed. "Fellow Daoist White Bone, I judged a gentleman's heart with a petty mind. I underestimated you." Mao Zhui said, "Whoever inherits the lineage of Huayang Palace, you will have hostility toward them. You feel that no Dao official's achievements or virtues are worthy of sitting in the seat of the Ancestral Hall. Furthermore, you are a Daoist with a particularly vibrant personal world, and also a sword cultivator. So standing beside another sword cultivator, the White Bone True Man, you naturally feel a potential danger—an instinctive premonition. If I were to develop killing intent in Huayang Palace, you would be the second to detect it."
Nan Qiang asked curiously, "Who is the first, Celestial Lord Yin?"
Mao Zhui glanced at Nan Qiang, as if puzzled why she would ask such a question.
Nan Qiang then realized the truth: it was the true master of this mountain, the Grand Unity Mountain God.
Mao Zhui walked to the waterside. Perhaps the fish in the pond mistook him for their old master, as they gathered around, wagging their heads and tails. The old blind man who had gouged out his own eyes, claiming territory in the Wilderness, forcibly cutting out a region to create the Ten Thousand Mountains—using the mutual generation cycle of Wood and Metal within the Five Elements, he continuously relocated mountains, assisted by a group of golden-armored divine generals and strongmen, suppressing the surging Dao qi that nearly shot out from every qi mansion in his body, preventing his form from ascending to the heavens!
The Cave Master of the Treasure Falling Shoal, later the East Sea Observing Way Temple—how unrelenting since ancient times! If anyone dared to harm my cultivation, I would cut off your heavenly timing and earthly advantages!
Pure freedom means being able to do everything one desires, to say no to everything one dislikes, and to fully bear the consequences.
How many mundane mortals forgo the riches and honor of the human world to enter the mountains seeking immortality, only to crave longevity equal to heaven and earth.
Only Lu Chen's pursuit has never been the so-called Fifteenth Realm, nor even the perfection of the Great Dao—only to 'see the true self.'
Perhaps stirred by the scene, or perhaps inherently sentimental, Mao Zhui lowered his head to gaze at the fish in the water. Suddenly, the fish mistook his gaze for bait, rushing and jostling for a moment, but found nothing—all dispersed.
Apart from the sword art that sees through the illusions of life and death, it seemed Lu Chen had poured all his lingering attachment to the human world into a skeleton.
---
On Fallen Mountain. Chen Lingjun came staggering back from the Iron Charm River God's mansion, reeking of wine. The green-clad child's sharp eyes caught a glimpse of visitors at the mountain gate. He quickly withdrew the technique, pressed down his cloud, and drifted onto the path. Focusing his gaze—
Look again. Good, they didn't seem like the heroes listed in the "Register of Passersby." He'd go meet them. Full of food and wine, in high spirits. He hadn't seen his brothers Bai Deng, the new water god, and Zeng Cuo, who had risen to the role of planner, in a few days. He missed them. So they'd arranged to have a good meal together today. Before raising the cup, he had reminded Bai Deng to drink only a little and not neglect his duties. As for Zeng Cuo, he had basically packed his bedroll and moved to the water mansion to help his brother out, acting as a behind-the-scenes advisor, handling criminal law, finances, and instruction, skillfully managing both income and subordinates. He had clearly advised Bai Deng on the tricks of social interactions—how to deal with superiors, command subordinates, and get along with colleagues. Given the nature of his Dao foundation, Bai Deng was indeed a bit rough around the edges. Without Zeng Cuo's planning and Chen Lingjun's assistance in filling the gaps, the water god position would have been much harder to secure.
Chen Lingjun swayed his sleeves as he walked toward the mountain gate. He noticed that Wei Bo and that unfamiliar young man were looking at him with a sense of... respect?!
Strange. Wei Bo had been acting odd lately—ever since becoming the Night Wandering Lord, he'd been all prickly and unpleasant. Could the sun be rising from the west today?
He caught Xiaomili and Xianwei both giving him signals, gesturing behind him. Chen Lingjun turned around and blinked. So there was a scholar-looking man on the path.
Chen Lingjun's face lit up. He immediately turned, planted his hands on his hips, stood in the middle of the path, and laughed. "Nephew Zheng! Long time no see!"
Zheng Juzhong smiled and nodded.
Beside him, Liu Xiang was expressionless. Hmph.
He'd seen bold, seen reckless, but never someone who dared to treat Zheng Juzhong like he wasn't Zheng Juzhong.
Zheng Juzhong might as well have had his name carved on his forehead—and this green-clad child still didn't recognize him?
Chen Lingjun, for his part, was wondering why this unnamed scholar looked a bit stooped.
At the mountain gate, Lu Shen remained still, only his eyelids twitching slightly. Chen Lingjun strode up to his brother Chen Zhuo Liu's apprentice, raised his hand to shield his mouth, and whispered, "Nephew, if you haven't found an inn in the county yet, why not stay at my mountain residence? Pick any room in the east or west wing. If you find them too small, I'll give you the main hall. We're family—no formalities. No need for guest or host airs!"
Then he thought a moment, and added, "If you prefer peace and quiet, there are a few nice houses in the mountain. I'll take you to have a look. If one catches your fancy, just say the word."
Poor scholars all care about face. He understood! And his friend was probably not well-off either—common sense!
Wei Bo had no words. He covered his forehead.
But he couldn't be bothered to explain to Chen Lingjun.
This was how it had been for years.
Zheng Juzhong said, "I appreciate the thought, but it's not necessary."
Chen Lingjun looked visibly disappointed, then clapped his fist into his palm and plastered on a bright smile. "At least let me buy you a meal before you go. I've got a great cook at home—quite skilled..."
Liu Xiang smiled to help defuse the situation. "Sorry, Brother Jingqing, we've already eaten—just had a home-cooked meal from Zhao Shuxia and Ning Ji."
Chen Lingjun didn't give up. "Then next time. Put this one on the tab." His good brother Chen Zhuo Liu was a poor scholar with shallow pockets and thin skin. That's how all scholars are. Chen Lingjun had borrowed some proper books from the old cook, sorted them by category, and set them on a table. That way, whenever they came to stay, they could flip through them at leisure.
Set up a table in the courtyard, with only empty cups on it—how could there be an empty wine jug? Plenty of wine.
Call over Bai Mang, and Old Brother Jia, who he always got along with. Invite them up the mountain to make a foursome for finger-guessing drinking games—what fun!
Every morning, whoever woke up first would just step out and shout. A single arrow—a thousand troops meet. Brothers, where's the morning booze?! Chen Lingjun remembered something and transmitted a voice message. "Nephew, to be honest, I've always had a sharp mind. I'm known for never missing the big picture. Earlier, when I sat on the steps chatting with your master, I suddenly remembered that you could even hold a conversation with the Old Man of Literature and the Great White Goose. I thought that was weird, my brain twitched, and I guessed you might be that Big Demon Zheng of White Emperor City. Pfft, child's talk, child's talk—I mean that righteous, chivalrous Elder Zheng. Hah, almost scared myself to death."
Liu Xiang and Lu Shen exchanged glances, then looked at Lord Wei. "Righteous and chivalrous Zheng Juzhong?"—who taught that on Fallen Mountain? Wei Bo shook his head helplessly. All natural talent—self-taught.
Zheng Juzhong smiled. "If I were Zheng Juzhong, then my master would be Chen Qingliu. If he were Chen Qingliu, and you could call the Dragon Slayer your brother... then from now on, what would you be afraid of?"
Wei Bo couldn't help but worry. No matter how wild Chen Lingjun's words and actions, he still had a conscience.
Liu Xiang was curious how the green-clad child would respond.
Lu Shen felt that Zheng Juzhong's words were fraught with killing intent.
But the green-clad child just tilted his head, frozen in place, his gaze neither clear nor dazed. "Huh?"
After staring blankly for a while, he vigorously shook his head, shook a finger, and said, "No, no, that's not how it works. Can't really explain why—I haven't read much."
Zheng Juzhong said, "Then let's keep it on the tab?"
Chen Lingjun burst out laughing. This was someone he could chat with—clearly a man who had read some books, but not too many.
Lu Shen felt like he was facing a formidable enemy, his nerves taut.
Why was Zheng Juzhong here?!
Even so, Lu Shen still took a respectful ancient bow toward the person beside Zheng Juzhong, holding his breath.
Liu Xiang pretended not to see it.
As they walked toward the mountain gate, the green-clad child first returned a fist-and-palm salute to the overly ceremonious young man. He seemed to have thought of something, scratched his head, and said sincerely to his "Nephew Zheng,"
"I just want to make a few true friends. High status or low, thick purse or thin, fat wallet or skinny—none of that matters. The table where we put the wine and bowls is always level." Zheng Juzhong paused, smiled knowingly, and nodded. "Uncle can drink."