# Chapter 1192: Let the Ten Thousand Mountains Be Fences
The sword immortals' procession on the Imperial Path passed through the Thousand-Step Corridor, possessing an aura truly worthy of a vast river pouring across the mortal world.
Those sword cultivators walking on Xiao Mo and Xie Gou's side all liked to tease Chai Wu, whether it was Mi Yu telling her not to be nervous, or Jiang Shangzhen asking if she'd had a drink before leaving. Chai Wu was indeed nervous; she regretted not having downed a couple of ounces of wine before setting out.
Ning Yao squinted and looked up, glancing at the sun in the sky.
According to protocol, the Emperor would rest briefly in the hall behind what commoners called the Golden Throne Hall before attending the morning court session.
But today, Emperor Song He had arrived early at the gate that served as the boundary between the palace city and the imperial city. He intended to break court precedent and walk into that hall together with the new National Teacher.
It might be described as "streets empty of people," yet there were still lazy late-risers, woken by the earth-shaking shouts. They would turn over, pull the sheets over their heads, and mumble and grumble curses. There were also deliberately closed-off mansions, either scholars privately compiling history who couldn't find inspiration without a cup of wine, or literati without official rank who harbored grievances against the court—out of sight, out of mind, they didn't care who became National Teacher; at best, it was just another official eating the emperor's grain. And there were some foreigners of special status, gathering in small groups, sitting in silence. These undercover operatives were all preparing to withdraw from the capital's territory. The Great Li Ministry of Justice's net was already closing; it might happen today, or at the latest tomorrow or the day after.
Quite a few wandering cultivators from other continents happened to be traveling through. Previously, when journeying abroad, they wouldn't have considered Bottle Gourd Continent, let alone made it their first choice. They understood the weight of that "Roll Call" far better than the commoners of Great Li's capital. Because they knew the old histories: outside of Central Earth Divine Continent, a continent possessing two Ascension cultivators simultaneously—such as Liu Tui and Yang Qiangu of Fuyao Continent—was already enough to draw sidelong glances. Moreover, the Fire Dragon True Man of Beiju Luzhou, Liu Jubao of Aiai Continent, Qinggong Taibao Jing Hao of Liuxia Continent, Du Mao of Tongye Continent—which of those old Ascension cultivators hadn't been the pillar of their continent's mountains and rivers? And yet in Bottle Gourd Continent, in a single Great Li capital city, there were several Fourteenth Realm cultivators and several Ascension cultivators? Not to mention that the immortals and Jade Marrow cultivators of the Sword Firmament carried a completely different weight compared to those in the Haoran world.
No wonder Liu Tui had said that as long as he wasn't rebelling against the Confucian Temple, he and Tianyao Township...
Liu Tui had obtained that Trouble-Free Token, concealed his form, suppressed his aura, and was patrolling the capital's neighborhoods and private residences. He didn't care about family background or whose mansion it was—his methods were wild and uninhibited. After some consideration, he also sent out his Yang Spirit and Yin Spirit to patrol the capital's outskirts.
In a bustling market, an elderly man who had traveled from afar watched the nearly immobile flow of people on the street, still far from the Imperial Path. Having learned of the celebration from the special official gazette issued by the court to the mountain and water gods, he had immediately rushed to the capital. But he hadn't inquired at Fallen Mountain. If the new National Teacher was that kid Chen Ping'an, fine. If not, what was the point?
This old man was Song Yushao, who had long since retired from the martial world. His grandson Song Fengshan and grandson's wife Liu Qian had accompanied him to the capital. Liu Qian's original surface identity was one of the Four Killers of Shushui Kingdom, but in truth she had been a Great Li spy. Through circumstances, she was now the Mountain God of Jingling Mountain in Shushui Kingdom.
But they hadn't expected the Great Li capital to be so crowded today—a sea of people. The descriptions in books of "sleeves touching like clouds, sweat falling like rain" had always seemed exaggerated when read, but today they truly witnessed it.
Liu Qian was unwilling to let the old man have made the trip for nothing. Even knowing the possibility was slim, she steeled herself and said, "Grandfather, I have some connections with officials from the Ministry of Justice. Shall I see if we can get a better spot?"
If someone else were becoming Great Li's National Teacher, it wouldn't matter—they could just listen to the excitement. Besides, if it really was him, even if they couldn't see him today, wouldn't they meet at some future drinking party? The old man was open-minded and waved his hand with a smile. "No need."
Liu Qian still hesitated, but Song Fengshan took her hand and shook his head with a smile. There really was no need; they should listen to Grandfather.
Just then, an unremarkable-looking man slipped through the crowd without leaving a trace and spoke to her via heart-mind transmission: "Are you Liu Qian, the Mountain God of Jingling Mountain?"
Liu Qian nodded.
He first handed Liu Qian a top-grade Trouble-Free Token from the Ministry of Justice, then identified his surname and status via heart-mind transmission. Liu Qian maintained an expressionless face, but inside she was shocked—this was a top-tier Attendant of Great Li! She asked softly, "May I ask what business Attendant Zhao has with me?"
Before leaving her mountain god temple, she had gone through layers of review and inspection, ultimately obtaining a special talisman jade tablet issued by the Great Li Ministry of Rites and the Zhongyue Patrol Department, engraved with the characters "Crossing Water." There was no helping it—a water god crossing borders to climb a mountain, or a mountain god wading through water, required such tedious procedures; everything had to follow the rules. That Attendant Zhao had an excellent attitude and said in a gentle tone, "If Old Mr. Song is willing to ascend to a high place, I can lead you all up onto the city wall of the imperial city."
Song Fengshan was extremely surprised. It seemed Grandfather had some face after all. For ordinary people, climbing onto the imperial city wall was a pipe dream, let alone the outer city wall.
Song Yushao hesitated. Could it be that Chen Ping'an had learned of his whereabouts from somewhere and specifically asked the court to make an exception?
The old man always hated to trouble others.
Just like when Jingling Mountain had received a rare Grade A rating in the last mountain and water assessment, with excellent commentary. The old man was happy, but couldn't help wondering. In the end, he couldn't bear to ask about it, or even hint to his grandson Song Fengshan: Wasn't this really because of Chen Ping'an? In the end, it was Liu Qian and Song Fengshan who noticed the old man's worry and brought it up themselves—it really wasn't. Only then did the old man feel at ease. Of course, he had also shared some heartfelt words with them, speaking as family. At the time, the old man had had a bit to drink, slightly tipsy, and said that if they ever encountered real difficulties, he, as their grandfather, would swallow his pride and talk to Chen Ping'an about it. Aside from that, Grandfather still hoped they could maintain a gentlemanly friendship with Chen Ping'an—light as water—so they might never need to ask him for help; they could just be friends...
That Attendant Zhao was not only a top-tier Attendant of the Ministry of Justice but also a royal Attendant of the Great Li Song clan, though there was no need to flaunt that status. He smiled and said, "Old Mr. Song need not worry. The invitation for you to ascend the city wall was His Majesty's own wish. Not only did he personally circle your name, but he also added vermilion commentary. His Majesty also asked me to convey a message: today he is truly overwhelmed with affairs and has been remiss in hospitality; he hopes you will forgive him."
Song Yushao simply clasped his hands to Attendant Zhao. The old man didn't utter any polite or formal words. Attendant Zhao smiled and nodded in acknowledgment.
Liu Qian exchanged a glance with Song Fengshan. Being able to ascend the city wall to watch the celebration was already an unexpected joy beyond measure. That His Majesty would treat them so generously was even more unimaginable.
Because Attendant Zhao was a member of the imperial clan, he knew a bit more insider information—for instance, that His Majesty not only knew the name "Song Yushao" but also harbored a sense of gratitude toward this old martial arts master from Shushui Kingdom. All because the new National Teacher, in his youth as a wandering swordsman, had once spoken a single sentence while standing beside the old man during a confrontation on the battlefield.
And because of that sentence, it had greatly influenced His Majesty's decision-making at the time.
Upon ascending the city wall and walking some distance, Attendant Zhao stopped where a low table had already been set, laid with several plates of fresh fruit and pastries from the capital's shops. It had nothing to do with extravagance, but the implications of this gesture—even Song Yushao, a man of the martial world, could appreciate them deeply.
Song Yushao clasped his hands and said, "Attendant Zhao, please attend to your duties. We won't wander off."
Attendant Zhao didn't stand on ceremony and nodded. He indeed had many matters to oversee personally. Clasping his hands, he smiled and said, "I apologize for the poor hospitality, Old Mr. Song."
Song Yushao stood on the city wall, gazing toward the Imperial Path. The old man recalled many old memories, and in the end, the one that came to mind was precisely that sentence.
"Great Li's Chen Ping'an is here!"
---
The second-largest immortal inn in the capital was located in Chongde Ward of the inner city. The people who owned properties here were mostly middle-ranking officials of Great Li, or wealthy merchants of considerable means. The inn was actually an asset of Dong Shuijing, the true hidden proprietor. Within the inn, a tall building had been constructed with concealment formations, roughly as high as the family libraries of several major noble clans in the capital. It was said that the Great Li capital had not allowed private construction of tall buildings for many years.
If one could say great fortunes were brought from a past life, then Dong Shuijing must have done many good deeds in his previous life.
Liu Xianyang and Gu Can, who had come from Fuyao Continent, had arranged to meet here. They were fellow townsfolk, so Dong Half-a-City couldn't very well charge them money.
In fact, Dong Shuijing, who was in the capital, had personally received them yesterday and arranged the best rooms. When they went to restaurants or temple fairs, Dong Shuijing accompanied them the whole way. But Liu Xianyang was astonished to find that not a single person in the inn recognized Dong Shuijing. Liu Xianyang didn't begrudge the wealthy Dong Half-a-City spending money for nothing, but he regretted that if everyone knew Dong Shuijing, he could swagger through the inn as if he owned the place—like having words carved on his forehead: "The owner is my close friend!"
Gu Can said that this was precisely what made Dong Shuijing clever. Liu Xianyang couldn't be bothered to ask how it was clever or what "comparatively clever" meant.
At this moment, Liu Xianyang sat on the railing with both hands clasped behind his head, gazing at the scene on the Imperial Path from afar.
Gu Can stood quietly to one side, hands tucked in his sleeves, not being as casual about formalities as the great swordsman Liu.
Those who could appear on the corridor of this tall building were inevitably not ordinary wealthy or noble people; otherwise, they were prominent figures from the mountains of Bottle Gourd Continent.
Many stole sidelong glances at Liu Xianyang. Whether or not they recognized him, none of them said anything, let alone initiated conversation.
Gu Can recognized most of their identities—Helian Baozhu of the Invincible Fist Sect, with a graceful noble young master beside her; a sect leader of a martial arts school with a mysterious background, rumored to be as rich as a country, and there were whispers that he was a confidant of the Great Li Crown Prince; the stubbly man was Gao Jianfu of the Divine Proclamation Sect, looking dispirited and unusually disheveled. This man and He Xiaoliang had once been widely acknowledged as a golden couple of Bottle Gourd Continent, but unfortunately fate had toyed with them and they had no destiny together. A young member of the Fu clan from Old Dragon City was discussing insights from a philology work with an old scholar from the Yunlin Jiang clan.
Liu Xianyang lightly tapped the railing with his heel and clicked his tongue. "Look at all his swagger. Makes me green with envy."
Gu Can said calmly, "The summer sun is scorching, yet he treads on thin ice. What's there for you to be jealous about?"
Liu Xianyang curled his lip. "Push back thirty years, who could have imagined this? The copper coins in the three of us pockets combined—could they?"
Gu Can said slowly, "Wealth has distinction between clean and dirty, new and old; poverty also has its grades. You've never truly been poor in your life, unlike us."
Liu Xianyang laughed. "I just think that tomorrow I'll definitely have money to spend and won't starve, so I'm not afraid."
Gu Can repeated that sentence. "You're different from us."
Liu Xianyang laughed exasperatedly. "You're full of schemes, he's heavy-hearted, but my eyes aren't poor and my heart isn't poor—that's something you two money-grubbers can't learn."
Gu Can chuckled. "People who have no reason tend to sound the most reasonable when they start spouting reasons."
Liu Xianyang said, "You're very reasonable right now."
When they were children, in Gu Can's eyes, the world was full of bad people. In contrast, in Liu Xianyang's eyes, everything seemed trivial.
As for what Chen Ping'an saw and thought, it was probably that old saying: life is unpredictable.
Not far away, a young man with soft, feminine features sneered coldly, leaning on the railing, and said softly, "The court's arrangements are so tedious, from the six ministries at the center down to the local county offices, openly and secretly mobilizing so much manpower, material, and financial resources—isn't this just wasting the people's money and draining the treasury? Is it worth it? Is it really necessary?"
The elderly scholar beside him shook his head and stroked his beard. "There are two sets of accounts—one false, one true. You only speak of the real paper accounts. Your reasoning has some merit, but it's biased."
Liu Xianyang, sharp-eared, tilted his chin in their direction. Gu Can neither heard nor saw.
The young man persisted in his opinion. "The court must maintain appearances, and also intimidate petty scoundrels. Teacher, I understand the principle."
The old scholar smiled. "Whether it's right or not, outsiders' views tend to be more reasonable. Whether it's unreasonable or reasonable, you always have to be clear in your own mind for it to count."
The young man curled his lip. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm just venting. The court's military and state affairs are always decided by those in power and authority. Hey, before you resigned, Teacher, you could have had a say too."
The old man laughed silently, not refuting.
Scholars were used to seeing black characters on white paper, and their view of the world tended to see things in black and white as well.
He himself had walked this path from youthful arrogance. He'd looked around back then—how many people did he think were worth anything?
Liu Xianyang transmitted via heart-mind: "Booger, tell me, whose girl is that, talking so sharply?"
Gu Can said, "She's surnamed Xu."
Liu Xianyang said, "That's a waste of a sentence. Said nothing. There are plenty of Xus in the world, and plenty of wealthy and powerful Xus in Great Li..."
Gu Can twitched the corner of his mouth. "Great Swordsman Liu can take his time guessing."
Liu Xianyang asked curiously, "And that old gentleman, what's his identity? Doesn't look like the girl's elder. A tutor? A family advisor?"
Gu Can said, "I'm guessing too."
Liu Xianyang was puzzled. "You don't know?"
Gu Can sneered. "I left Bottle Gourd Continent years ago. How long have you been in Bottle Gourd Continent?"
Liu Xianyang twisted his rear, jumped off the railing, and strode directly to the pair—the old and the young.
Gu Can was a bit puzzled. Had Liu Xianyang already figured out the girl's identity? She was surnamed Xu, which was actually quite special. Her family was one of the Pillar of State clans of the Great Li dynasty: the Yuan clan! She had an older brother, who naturally followed the father's surname, otherwise it would be too shocking. She was called Xu Mi, the beloved heart's treasure of Yuan Chong, the head of the Yuan clan and the current head of the Great Li Censorate. It was said that this stern, imposing Pillar of State only showed a smile at home when with Xu Mi. When Xu Mi was little, she would sit on Yuan Chong's lap while the old man read, and she'd tug at his beard while playing—Yuan Chong never got angry.
Xu Mi's "Xu," of course, came from Clear Wind City's Xu clan.
Mr. and Mrs. Xu had managed the Fox Kingdom for many years, secretly gathering various kinds of luck. The immortal Xu clan had married a legitimate daughter to a concubine-born son of Great Li's Yuan clan. Even so, outsiders felt that Clear Wind City had married above its station. The young couple soon had a boy and a girl. The girl was Xu Mi. It was rumored that some officials in the capital who were skilled in physiognomy all said Xu Mi's future would be inestimably noble.
However, Xu Mi hadn't recognized Liu Xianyang, which Gu Can found a bit strange. But upon reflection, it was unexpected yet reasonable. First, family scandals shouldn't be aired—that sword contest with Zhengyang Mountain had made Xu Mi's father suffer greatly, dropping from Jade Marrow to Nascent Soul. Second, both the Pillar of State Yuan clan and Clear Wind City's Xu clan were top-tier noble clans and first-rate immortal families who valued face; they probably didn't want the younger generation of their respective families to know too many details. Besides, the former head of Dragon Spring Sword Sect, Ruan Qiong, was still the Great Li dynasty's chief Attendant.
For instance, when Fox Kingdom's ruler Pei Xiang was among the viewing procession, would the Xu clan of Clear Wind City dare to go to Fallen Mountain demanding an explanation?
Liu Xianyang made an obeisance and said, "I am a Confucian scholar from the Chen Academy of Southern Po-suo Continent, surnamed Liu. Greetings to Mr. Yulu."
The old man whose studio name was "Yulu" was quite surprised. After returning the obeisance, he asked with a smile, "This fellow immortal recognizes this old man?"
Liu Xianyang grinned. "I have carefully read Mr. Yulu's six major works and the collection of essays several times. Each reading brings new insights."
The old man's expression was kindly. He asked with a smile, "May I ask what you felt when you first opened the books, Mr. Liu?"
Liu Xianyang said frankly, "They made me drowsy, dizzy, and irritated. Like being in a school with an old pedant who talks to himself, not caring whether the students understand. Just by flipping through, I felt the author must be a stern, inflexible scholar wearing a tall hat and an iron face. I could even imagine him sitting bolt upright, putting on a serious face while writing, lecturing the ancients. So, to be honest, when I first flipped through, I was annoyed by both the content and the author."
"Youngster" Xu Mi felt this person spoke quite interestingly—right up her alley.
The old man nodded repeatedly, beaming. "And the second time? What was your impression?"
Liu Xianyang laughed. "I read a bit more into it. The writing is genuinely good, but I still didn't like it."
Xu Mi struggled to keep a straight face to keep from laughing out loud. She wanted to give this guy a thumbs-up.
She had been spending days in the mountains with the old scholar collating ancient texts, and it had been agonizing.
The old man asked curiously, "Generally speaking, reading only serves three purposes: cultivating one's character, preparing for civil service examinations, and entertaining oneself. My old works don't seem to fit any of those. Why did Mr. Liu bother?"
Liu Xianyang said, "You can't get around them."
Xu Mi's eyes suddenly widened, as if this were an astonishing answer.
The old man was silent for a moment, then asked, "How so?"
Liu Xianyang smiled. "Although I've been studying abroad in Southern Po-suo Continent, I'm originally from Great Li."
The old man nodded.
He had lived in the mountains for many years, coming to the capital only a handful of times, and never meddled in court politics. When he came to the capital, he only visited a few old friends. But gradually, those old friends had all passed away—like Mr. Guan of the Ministry of Personnel, and the teacher of Shen Chen of the Ministry of War.
A hundred years ago, Great Li's Song clan was still one of Lu's vassals, beset by internal and external troubles. From the emperor to the officials, no one had any ambition to expand the territory, nor dared to. But just at that time, a scholar emerged in the court who excelled at both scholarship and officialdom. He claimed his learning was a minor path, but it had great use.
He single-handedly elevated an obscure field of study into a prominent discipline of the Great Li dynasty, acclaimed as the synthesizer of old frontier studies and the pioneer of new frontier studies.
In the hundred years since, the Great Li officialdom had experienced two surges of enthusiasm for frontier studies, to the point that officials who didn't discuss frontier affairs were considered out of touch. And whenever frontier affairs were discussed, they naturally couldn't get around this most insightful Mr. Yulu.
The old man laughed. "Mr. Liu, forgive my ignorance. May I ask what position you hold now?"
Liu Xianyang said, "You've been secluded in your studies with one-track mind, Old Master, so it's natural you're somewhat ignorant."
The old man laughed heartily. "I'm ashamed," he said, clasping his hands.
Xu Mi couldn't help but laugh. She finally gave this guy a thumbs-up. Surnamed Liu, you're a true hero!
Liu Xianyang said, "I have a friend who reads your works more attentively and gains more insights than I do."
The old man was curious. "I'd like to hear about it."
Liu Xianyang said, "He said that a hundred years ago, when Great Li was in constant danger of destruction, it could still produce a unique scholar in the foggy world, dedicated to developing frontier studies. His learning and insight were naturally excellent. But what he admired most lay elsewhere. He said it's hard for him to imagine how much passion for a country at its weakest a person must possess to write words willing to place the greatest hope in that country."
The old man was silent.
Xu Mi was stunned.
Gu Can turned to look at Liu Xianyang.
The old man's thoughts drifted. He remembered long ago, someone had invited him to a game of Go and told him there were two roads to take, for reference only; the choice was up to his own interests.
Either stay in court, transform from a future leader of the Qingliu faction into a lonely minister who was the emperor's confidant, easily obtain a posthumous praise-conferring title, but as time went on, his posthumous reputation might not be so good. Or dedicate himself to scholarship in his study, develop an unavoidable prominent discipline, benefit later generations, and lay a foundation for Bottle Gourd Continent.
At the time, the young official, not yet thirty, didn't hesitate to choose the latter as he placed his stone on the Go board.
But even then, he was curious: why "Bottle Gourd Continent" instead of "the Great Li dynasty"?
Yet until this moment, there was still something the old man couldn't figure out. Why had the Embroidery Tiger Cui Chan said those words to this scholar, who clearly belonged to the Yasheng lineage? It didn't seem to fit the Embroidery Tiger's character. In his memory, National Teacher Cui Chan did often seek out people for heart-to-heart talks, but who would dare say Cui Chan was baring his heart to anyone?
As for this scholar surnamed Liu, who claimed to be a friend of Cui Chan... since the other party dared to say to his face that he didn't recognize him and that he was indeed ignorant, the old man found nothing wrong with it. Instead, he felt this was how a true scholar should be.
---
At the gate of the National Teacher's residence, Rong Yu looked at the man named Dong Shuijing, a fellow townsman of the National Teacher. She was somewhat puzzled. She had made it clear that she would lead him in, and there was no breach of protocol. Why was Dong Shuijing insisting on waiting for Lin Shouyi to come out? Did this young money god plan to chat a bit at the door and then go home? Could the intelligence be wrong, and Dong Shuijing actually had a mediocre relationship with the National Teacher, with some unknown grievance?
Lin Shouyi, rolling a book in his hand, walked out of the gate and clicked his tongue. "As expected of Dong Half-a-City—such a big attitude. Should I set off some firecrackers to welcome you?"
Dong Shuijing laughed. "Not as big an attitude as Jade Marrow Lin, who can prepare for the imperial examinations right in the National Teacher's residence. If you don't get top scholar, it'll be hard to explain."
Lin Shouyi said to Rong Yu, "Miss Rong, you don't need to bother with us. I can handle this kind of nonsense guest."
Rong Yu smiled and took her leave.
Dong Shuijing asked, "Can we sit on these steps?"
Lin Shouyi laughed exasperatedly. "What a strange habit!"
Dong Shuijing said, "Money entering the gate of power means I'm already a head shorter. I'm here to see you, not Chen Ping'an. If I really needed to discuss matters with him, I wouldn't come here."
Lin Shouyi accompanied Dong Shuijing as he sat on the steps at the entrance. "Out with it, then."
Dong Shuijing said, "I'm going to another continent soon to do some business. In the future, if you become an official in the capital, I won't bother you. But if you become a local official, let me know in advance—what prefecture or county you're going to, and I can lend a hand."
Lin Shouyi frowned. "Well, well, open bribery right at the National Teacher's doorstep? What do you mean? Say it clearly."
In history and in the provinces, which regional officials didn't have a few moneybags for collecting wealth? But he didn't think Dong Shuijing was the kind of dirty character who "clings to officials to get rich, and officials rely on money to get promoted."
Dong Shuijing said, "Too much money, nowhere to spend it. All these years, I've wanted to do some good deeds that don't seek fame. I trust you to be a good official who can spend every copper coin on the blade."
Lin Shouyi said, "We'll see about that."
Dong Shuijing stood up. "That's all I had to say. I'll go make my money, and you go read your books."
Lin Shouyi stood up as well. "Sure you don't want to go in and take a look?"
Dong Shuijing shook his head. "There will be opportunities later."
Lin Shouyi hesitated, then transmitted via heart-mind, "The investigation has actually been going on for some time."
Dong Shuijing smiled. "That's typical Chen Ping'an. Can't out-calculate him."
Lin Shouyi waved the book in his hand. "No need to see you out."
Dong Shuijing smiled and turned to leave.
But then a "book blade" hit the back of his head. Dong Shuijing turned to look. Are you crazy?
Lin Shouyi felt refreshed, muttered "good-for-nothing," and without giving Dong Shuijing a chance to retort or retaliate, swaggered back into the National Teacher's residence.
---
At Fallen Mountain in Chuzhou, a group of unfamiliar visitors appeared on the mountain path. When they neared the mountain gate archway, Xianwei immediately rose from his small bamboo chair to welcome them, making a Daoist salute.
They each returned the greeting. Nie Cui'e had already removed two layers of concealment—after all, when visiting Fallen Mountain, guests must observe proper courtesy. She was the first to identify herself: "I am a registered disciple of Qinggong Mountain in Liuxia Continent, named Nie Cui'e, with the Daoist name Manpo. My master, with the Daoist name Qinggong Taibao, is the current Mountain Lord."
Hua Qinggong immediately followed up, though his introduction was relatively brief: "I am Hua Qinggong, originally from Guozhou."
Tian Xian said she came from the Fanzhi Princess Temple at Dragon King Hall in Ruicheng and was a sword cultivator.
Yan Houdao spoke last, with a smile: "Tian Xian and I are Dao companions."
Xianwei was known for having his ears closed to worldly affairs and his mind only on righteous books. At this moment, he felt somewhat ashamed of his ignorance. He had only heard of Qinggong Mountain thanks to Chen Lingjun's idle chatter here, who often said he was a drinking buddy with a big shot from Liuxia Continent—an old immortal with a leisurely time of Ascension realm, and the dojo called Qinggong Mountain was enormously impressive over in Liuxia Continent!
Since Tian Xian claimed to be a sword cultivator, and Hua Qinggong also carried a sword on his back, Xianwei mistakenly thought they were a group of sword immortals from another continent who had come seeking fame, wanting to compete in swordsmanship with someone. He had to explain: "All immortals, our Fallen Mountain is currently in a period of seclusion. We cannot receive guests. Please forgive us."
Nie Cui'e glanced at Hua Qinggong and the others. You're all part of Fallen Mountain now—why are you still hiding? If they were turned away as outsiders at the mountain gate, they wouldn't mind—it could be a story to tell. But as the only actual outsider, she had her master's orders.
Tian Xian laughed. "This Daoist elder, Yan Houdao and I have just become guest elders of the Green Duckweed Sword Sect, and Hua Qinggong is even a recorded Attendant of your Dragon Elephant Sword Sect. We're not outsiders."
Xianwei was taken aback. He didn't doubt their identities—even the boldest rogue cultivator wouldn't dare impersonate a guest elder at the mountain gate. But since when was the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect part of Fallen Mountain?
Nie Cui'e was impatient. Acting on impulse, she couldn't help asking, "Daoist elder, may I ask if Patriarch Jingqing is currently cultivating in seclusion in the mountain?"
The young Daoist who was the gatekeeper seemed dazed by her question. He pointed toward the mountain on the right, Jumping Fish Mountain, and muttered, "Patriarch Jingqing... just went down the mountain, to Yingyu Peak on Jumping Fish Mountain next door. May I ask, what business does Daoist Manpo have with him?"
As soon as she asked, Nie Cui'e regretted it. She quickly made up what she thought was the safest excuse, adding a conventional mountain saying: "I have long heard of his great reputation and have great admiration for Patriarch Jingqing."
Xianwei was already a bit skeptical. When he heard for the first time that someone admired Chen Lingjun like that, he got irritated. You people put on a good act—either stunningly beautiful fairies or ethereal sword immortals. You really spared no expense! What, are you so desperate for money that you're pulling this con, targeting me? Don't you know I come from the martial world myself?
A white-haired child came flying down the mountain, flapping his sleeves. He first transmitted to Xianwei via heart-mind: "I'll guide them. Have Zheng Dafeng receive them properly—I guarantee no trouble."
As they walked and talked, the white-haired child introduced himself as the genealogy recorder of Fallen Mountain, having once been a miscellaneous disciple, a native of Bottle Gourd Continent. He was diligent in cultivation, but unfortunately his aptitude was poor. He said not to look down on the mountain because of his low realm—there were countless strange and remarkable people on this mountain... The "talk" was really just the white-haired child rambling on.
Hua Qinggong, for some reason, had a thought arise in his mind. He turned to look back at the young Daoist with the wooden hairpin, who had already sat back down on his bamboo chair and started reading.
There were some rumors on the mountain, but they were often kept mysterious. For instance, Chen Ping'an's relationship with the Daoist sect—had it always been bad because of that incident in the Pearl Dragon Cave Heaven? It was said that during several of Chen Ping'an's journeys, when passing by civil and military temples, city god temples, shrines of mountain and water spirits, or Buddhist monasteries, he would pay respects. But Daoist temples and shrines—he almost never set foot in them?
So then, why was the mountain's gatekeeper precisely a Daoist?
Xianwei seemed to sense the gaze. He looked up and smiled warmly.
Hua Qinggong nodded. Xianwei was uneasy at heart. At least the book he was holding right now was a proper one.
The seemingly manic white-haired child smiled. No wonder Wu Shuangjiang had said that strange, seemingly off-topic remark during his last visit to the mountain.
"The Daoist at the foot of the mountain shows signs of ascending the altar."
The white-haired child was broad-minded. Whether the sky accidentally fell or the ground rose as an altar, the Hidden Official Patriarch would handle it.
He performed a stance shift—White Snake Shaking Its Scales—and shook his arms. With his small arms and thin legs, he just wouldn't cause trouble or hold anyone back, just cheer for the Hidden Official Patriarch.
Tian Xian was always outspoken. She transmitted to her Dao companion: "This sounds a bit unfair to say, but I always feel this genealogy recorder isn't quite right in the head. His words and actions are very strange, don't you think?"
Yan Houdao smiled and explained, "Since ancient times, strange people have strange affairs, and unusual scholars are naturally eccentric. We just need to get used to it."
Tian Xian thought about it. "You're right."
When they reached the training ground at Yingyu Peak, Nie Cui'e and the others saw young boys and girls walking on wooden stakes and practicing boxing. Then they saw a row of figures sitting on bamboo chairs under the thatched eaves—some with crossed legs, some picking their teeth and patting their bellies, some with blank stares drifting off. Most notably, a green-clad child was standing all alone, massaging the shoulders and back of a slovenly man, using his elbow to press down, asking, Brother Dafeng, how's the strength? If it's too light or too heavy, you must tell me...
Nie Cui'e's attention naturally focused on the green-clad child. Looking at his robes, the color of his Dharma robe... could this be Patriarch Jingqing's... attendant?!
The white-haired child put his hands on his hips and shouted toward the eaves, "This fellow Daoist Manpo, Sister Nie, wants to see Patriarch Jingqing! The rest are all genuine family members—guest elders appointed by our Mountain Lord. Don't treat them poorly! Where is Patriarch Jingqing?"
The people over there stared at each other in confusion. Then the green-clad child burst out laughing, holding his belly, tears almost flying out.
Chen Lingjun was slapped on the head by Zheng Dafeng. "Honored guests have arrived, and they're calling you out by name! Show some decency!"
Zheng Dafeng saw Nie Cui'e and couldn't take his eyes off her. His bamboo chair felt like it was burning his backside; he jumped up hastily, cleared his throat, and was about to speak when he found Chen Lingjun, who had been slapped, still laughing like an idiot. Zheng Dafeng was anxious, so he gave him a thump on the head, making Chen Lingjun clutch his head. Zheng Dafeng lowered his voice and said, "I have a feeling that whether I get to drink wedding wine depends entirely on whether you're willing to give me a hand this time!"
Chen Lingjun immediately straightened his back and stopped laughing. After all, he was about to go roaming the world with Xiaomili soon, so he'd come to ask the worldly-wise Zheng Dafeng for advice. As for Wen Zixi and Zhong Qian's experience in the martial world—better than nothing, he supposed.
For some reason, in that instant, Nie Cui'e felt a chill run down her spine.
She never would have imagined that this "green-clad child" was the Patriarch Jingqing whom her master had told her to "audience with" most carefully.
She couldn't fathom what level of cultivation, what depth of Dao power, it would take to be so free with laughter and anger, playing in the mortal world as if it were all natural, with nothing outside the heart.
Chen Lingjun used heart-mind transmission to ask the white-haired child what these people were. The white-haired child said he wasn't sure, but they seemed tough.
Chen Lingjun put his hands behind his back and pretended to ask, "May I ask, Daoist Manpo, what business do you have with me?"
Could it be that someone from the Infant Mountain Thunder God Residence in Beiju Luzhou had come to demand repayment or seek redress? But hadn't that account been settled?
He led Nie Cui'e out of the training ground, saying they could talk while walking. Mainly, he was afraid of making a fool of himself in front of Zheng Dafeng and the others.
Originally, she was supposed to first follow Hua Qinggong and the others up the mountain to lodge, then pretend to have an accidental encounter with Patriarch Jingqing, deliver her master's invitation, and invite him to Qinggong Mountain as a guest... But because of her own weak Dao heart, she had messed it up. Nie Cui'e was anxious, carefully choosing her words. She rehearsed in her mind and transmitted via heart-mind: "My master, Qinggong Taibao, returned to his mountain from your esteemed home. He misses Patriarch Jingqing greatly. But he felt that simply sending a flying sword letter with an invitation would seem too frivolous. So when I came down the mountain to train, my master instructed me to invite Patriarch Jingqing to visit Qinggong Mountain when he has leisure time..."
Chen Lingjun frowned deeply. He thought: I didn't owe Old Immortal Jing a single immortal coin. Previously on the mountain, I treated him well with food and drink—morning wine every day without fail, right? Could it be that I said something inappropriate at the wine table? But after thinking it over carefully, Chen Lingjun felt that with Old Immortal Jing's age, status, and position, he wouldn't be so petty as to go to all this effort to trick him over there. Once at Qinggong Mountain, what could he do—beat him up or scold him? And as for Jing Hao thinking highly of him, feeling an instant connection, a friendship across generations... Chen Lingjun thought that anyone with half a brain wouldn't believe that.
No wonder that poor bastard Chen Qingliu almost never drank or played finger games with Jing Hao at the table—wine character reveals true character! That meant even Chen Qingliu had seen through Jing Hao's unreliability! Of course, Old Immortal Jing never toasted Chen Qingliu either.
Chen Lingjun was terribly vexed.
If he refused, it would seem pretentious, like he really thought he was a big shot. If he accepted, going alone would be fine. But the problem was this trip he was taking with Xiaomili—less trouble was better. So he'd give a verbal promise to save face, and maybe save Old Immortal Jing a few jars of immortal wine.
Chen Lingjun said slowly, "Alright, I'll go drink at Qinggong Mountain whenever I have time."
Nie Cui'e breathed a sigh of relief. Good, this Patriarch Jingqing was willing to give her master some face after all.
Indeed, ordinary people wouldn't even catch her master's eye. And if the invitee had been someone who would show joy at the invitation, her master wouldn't have valued him so highly.
Chen Lingjun secretly made up his mind: on this journey, he would absolutely not go to Liuxia Continent. He'd die before going!
At the training ground, Zheng Dafeng rubbed his hands together and asked, "How do you think your future sister-in-law is?"
Wen Zixi opened his eyes and said, "She might be your sister-in-law instead."
Chen Lingjun might not know the Daoist name "Manpo," but how could Wen Zixi, a dashing man who had passed through hundreds of flowers, not recognize Nie Cui'e after she had removed her concealment—her beauty could bring shame to three continents!
Zheng Dafeng angrily said, "Why would we become enemies over a woman?"
Wen Zixi rubbed his chin. "I feel like the way she looked at me was familiar somehow."
Zhong Qian flicked away her toothpick, tucked her hands in her sleeves, shifted her rear, leaned sideways on her bamboo chair, and rolled her eyes. "You're all dreaming."
Wen Zixi stretched lazily, crossed one leg, and unexpectedly said, "I think the most seductive goddesses and enchanting ghosts under heaven are still the Great Dao of longevity."
To be honest, Wen Zixi's desires for romantic love had grown very weak now. He was just teasing Zheng Dafeng. Having arrived at Fallen Mountain, he felt like a greenhorn who had just started out, finally understanding the vastness of martial arts. He occasionally went to Huaying Peak to attend lectures and study swordsmanship and Dao techniques from Old Deaf Kid, finally learning what it meant: "a thousand volumes of false teachings, one true word passed down." Such opportunities were rare and not to be missed!
Back at Fallen Mountain, Nuan Shu was helping Xiaomili prepare travel bags. If it weren't for the capital's grand celebration—the Mountain Lord becoming the Great Li National Teacher—the Right Protector would already be roaming the world with Jingqing.
Xiaomili had a slant-worn cotton satchel containing talismans and immortal coins, along with a few booklets euphemistically called military manuals. Before the Law Enforcer Longevity had left for the capital to attend the celebration, she had planned to give Xiaomili a bag of gold-essence copper coins as a gift. The Right Protector was too polite to refuse but still only took one, storing it in her "Patriarch Hall"—oh, her forces grew stronger by the day!
There was also a slightly larger bundle containing melon seeds and dried fish, small boxes of preserved fruits and pastries, a sewing kit, and other odds and ends, along with a pouch stuffed full of gold leaves and silver fragments. Xiaomili had not moved any of her previous savings; they didn't need to accompany the commander on expedition. These were all "troops" sent by Zhong Qian, Wen Zixi, and the others, who insisted that when walking the world, money was a hero's courage. Unfortunately, they were also poor now and didn't have much to spare, so they could only do what little they could.
This face-to-face gift-giving had Xiaomili grinning from ear to ear, repeatedly clasping her hands and shaking them in thanks. Zhong Qian and Wen Zixi also clasped hands in return—the sentiment mattered more than the gift itself; the Right Protector was too polite.
That night's supper was especially sumptuous, only because Xiaomili had personally led the way to Old Chef's place. This was probably what it meant to be children of the martial world exchanging courtesies—you had to uphold appearances!
Today, Nuan Shu added a few more items to the bundle, like two pairs of newly sewn cloth shoes, slightly thinner for summer wear.
Nuan Shu asked softly, "Mili, are you sure you don't want to bring a size-reducing object?"
Xiaomili sat on a brand-new bamboo chair custom-made by Sister Pei not long ago, just tall enough for her feet to touch the ground. Her old chair had gone into retirement, and she had given it a resounding name before sealing it. The black-clad little girl shook her head, grinning widely. "I have enough belongings. They just fit. What would I want that thing for? If someone lent it to me, it would just be a useless ornament."
Xiaomili said seriously, "Sister Nuan Shu, don't frown. The good Mountain Lord said that everyone's two eyebrows are like feng shui. Don't worry—Jingqing has been as far as Beiju Luzhou. When we're outside, we'll help each other, be kind to everyone, ha, loved by all, blooming wherever we go!"
Nuan Shu was somewhat helpless. "Alright, alright, you two are old hands."
In high spirits, the green-clad child slapped his sleeves noisily and walked out of Huaying Peak, wandering to the mountain gate of Jiling Peak.
Seeing the Daoist completely absorbed in reading again, Chen Lingjun said, "Xianwei, reading again? Are you preparing for the imperial examinations?"
Xianwei was about to speak when Chen Lingjun said, "Remember Old Immortal Jing Hao from Qinggong Mountain? He invited me to his mountain for a drink."
Xianwei immediately put on a show of surprise. "Wow, such a grand honor! An old Ascension cultivator took the initiative to invite you? Jingqing, are you sure you're not blowing smoke without a draft?"
Chen Lingjun sighed in exasperation. "You've only met Old Immortal Jing briefly, so you don't know the martial world's wisdom that at the wine table, all are brothers. If I told you more, you'd believe it even less. When we played finger games, I won more than I lost. Old Immortal Jing said my finger-guessing skill was unparalleled. This time, his personal disciple came all the way across continents in person to invite me. I couldn't say no. On this journey, I definitely have to go to Liuxia Continent and have a good drinking session with the old immortal."
Xianwei played along. "That's a must!"
Chen Lingjun was immediately deflated, all his bluster gone. He passed through the archway and climbed the steps, scratching his face. What now? He had just made up his mind not to go to Liuxia Continent or Qinggong Mountain, and now he had boasted to Xianwei. To go or not to go? He worried all the way to the mountaintop, plopped down on the steps, and stared blankly.
The white-haired child had arrived earlier and was reporting to Xiaomili. The two tattletales, about the same height, were whispering to each other. What? Before even setting out, Patriarch Jingqing's name was already thundering across the Liuxia Continent's martial world? Huh? Because of a beautiful fairy sister, Wen Zixi had gotten into a fight with Master Zheng, and Zhong Qian tried to mediate but couldn't stop them? Oh? Our good Mountain Lord has become the new head of the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect?
Xiaomili suddenly stamped her foot. Got so caught up chatting with Shorty that she was late for mountain patrol!
On the sacred path, she saw Jingqing staring off into space. Xiaomili dashed over. "Jingqing, what are you thinking about?"
Chen Lingjun snapped out of it, pointed at the mountain path, and smiled. "Back then, Nuan Shu and I followed the master up this road into the mountain."
Xiaomili let out a "wah" and raised her thumb high. "Excellent!"
In the Great Li capital, Chen Ping'an walked over to Emperor Song He's side.
The young National Teacher turned his head and looked back at the road they had come from.