Chapter 37: Youth Meets Youth
Since the decision was to determine the ownership of the two worlds through some method, the qualifications of those who would deliberate were of utmost importance.
Bai Ze, of course, was qualified for the Wildlands. Although the current nominal sovereign of the Wildlands was still the sword cultivator Fei Ran.
Having Zheng Juzhong serve as this "intermediary"—the authority of this pinnacle of the demonic path was beyond doubt. However, it was inevitable that people would suspect his intentions, whether he might collude with the Haoran side in some scheme.
As for whether Chen Ping'an could decide this matter on behalf of Haoran, it seemed to carry a flavor of "bestowing the reality without granting the title."
After all, the Central Earth Confucian Temple was the true orthodox seat of Haoran, and only Li Sheng was qualified to participate in this "three-way talks."
But Chen Ping'an's deeds and identity—"opening the passage between heaven and earth" and "killing Zhou Mi"—seemed to carry enough weight to command acceptance.
In short, as long as Li Sheng did not appear today, Chen Ping'an was the Haoran representative for this battlefield.
Moreover, in the current war between Haoran and the Wildlands, it was the young Hidden Official who had first said, "Then let's fight," before Li Sheng seconded the motion, and countless Haoran heroes chose to follow.
At that moment, a Wildlands great demon, concealing its head and tail, used a secret technique to finally ask a critical question that everyone was curious about but almost no one dared to raise: "Mr. Zheng, how can you guarantee that you won't favor Haoran and secretly be partial to your homeland?"
Zheng Juzhong smiled and explained, "My allies and I have decided to establish a sect and claim the title of patriarch here in the Wildlands. Since our new dojo is here, Haoran is now our homeland."
As soon as these words were spoken, both in the sky and on the ground, the battlefield erupted in an uproar.
The great demons looked at each other in disbelief. Damn it, could it be that Zheng Juzhong had chosen to temporarily switch sides, betraying Haoran, and was now "half one of their own"?
On closer examination, wasn't this consistent with Zheng Juzhong's style? It seemed like only such an act would befit Zheng Juzhong.
They just didn't know who exactly that group of allies following Zheng Juzhong were, that they had hooked up with him so quickly. It was truly... enviable to others.
Yu Long pondered for a long time before inevitably asking via heart voice with confusion, "Grandfather, can it be understood this way—that Zheng Juzhong would prefer the Wildlands to win?"
If that were the case, then Zheng Juzhong's establishment of a sect and claim to patriarch would be truly justified. Otherwise, if Haoran occupied the Wildlands, what meaning would Zheng Juzhong's "patriarch" identity have? At best, it would be a White Emperor City with a larger dojo territory. Thus, only if the Wildlands won would Zheng Juzhong have the chance to kill two birds with one stone, "without shedding blood" to occupy the high position alone. When the snipe and the clam fight, the fisherman catches the profit—if the great cultivators of both worlds were nearly wiped out, then he, Zheng Juzhong, alone at the thirty-fourth level, wouldn't he be... an invincible existence?
Guan Xiang frowned deeply, not daring to jump to conclusions for the moment. Who could say they were certain to guess the thoughts of a figure like Zheng Juzhong?
Bai Ze didn't seem to doubt Zheng Juzhong's intentions, nor did he care about the long-term plans of this number one demonic cultivator. He just smiled and asked, "Mr. Zheng, may I ask how long the victor remaining on the battlefield can rest after one fight?"
Since he was to take the lead, Bai Ze had to ask about some rules. Within the rules, between life and death, he wanted to secure more opportunities for the Wildlands.
Zheng Juzhong said, "The victor can rest for three sticks of incense. During this time, the victor can borrow any external object from anyone outside the arena to prepare for the next challenger. Of course, the victor can also quit while ahead, which counts as an early surrender, withdraw from the battlefield, preserve their Dao body, and henceforth cultivate in peace as a pure learner of the Dao. The losing side must have a replacement within one stick of incense. Whether to help collect the corpse is entirely up to mood. The winning side has the privilege of going up to the arena later."
If Zheng Juzhong's proposal was indeed passed, then the heroes of both worlds would be like enemies in a narrow alley—seeing each other, eyes bloodshot, trading life for death. Either directly surrender, or win and then surrender—in any case, one must surrender to leave this "alley" alive. Or no matter how many arena matches you win, in the end, you would die in the alley.
Bai Ze looked calmly at the sky beyond the heavens.
If only Little Master could come.
Win or lose, there would be no regrets.
Back when he traveled with his maidservant through the nine provinces of Haoran, Bai Ze once heard a poem urging drinking in the marketplace, roughly meaning: ten thousand years before life, ten thousand years after death, we mortals, in the hundred years in between, what do we accomplish?
Whether it was indecision making one unfit for great responsibility, or missing opportunities inviting blame—
Infinite self-reproach and regret, his heart entangled for ten thousand years, now Bai Ze had no other thoughts. He just wanted a somewhat decent poem of exit.
Thinking of the common folk's jest in the streets—if the last emperor refused to surrender with a rope around his neck and chose to hang himself, his crime of ruining the country could be halved—then if a monarch met a strong enemy with a blade and died on the battlefield, could that be halved again?
Zheng Juzhong smiled. "I believe this arena battle can determine the outcome of both worlds, and it won't take too long."
Bai Ze withdrew his gaze and continued, "What if the opponents on the battlefield, either one party reneges and avoids fighting, or both sides tacitly agree not to fight to the death, deliberately stalling, dragging on for days, months, or even years, just putting on a show? How should that be handled?"
Zheng Juzhong turned his head and asked, "Hidden Official Chen, what do you think should be done about this problem?"
Chen Ping'an said, "Mr. Zheng can ask someone smarter for a solution. I won't bother using my brain on this."
The implication was clear.
Since Bai Ze was willing to take the lead for the Wildlands, then he, Chen Ping'an, would also fight the first battle for Haoran.
Bai Ze was momentarily dazed, then expressionlessly looked at Chen Ping'an and gently shook his head. Whether it was cold mockery or a kind-hearted warning was unclear.
Even the new throne great demons like Crimson Concubine felt complex emotions at this moment.
Even New Makeup of Tuoyue Mountain, who wished to slice Chen Ping'an into a thousand pieces, had to admit that this young Hidden Official had never been a coward.
The Sword Qi Great Wall and Chen Qingdu had indeed not misplaced their trust.
Chen Ping'an raised his wrist, pointing his sword finger at Wang Zhi. "But before I step into the arena and settle life and death with Bai Ze, I must first kill this one. Consider it a warm-up."
Wang Zhi's face changed slightly. It had thought it had escaped death by a hair. This kind of arena match with no retreat held no interest for Wang Zhi.
Having been tricked badly by the Hidden Official, its Dao power was greatly diminished. Going up on the arena would only make it a "trophy" for some Haoran mountain-top cultivator, adding a brilliant record of killing a great demon. For instance, the famous Qi Tingji—once he drew his sword, would he show mercy?
Wang Zhi only wanted to retreat to the depths of the Wildlands, observe the situation, rebuild its Dao power and gather troops, waiting for the day it could rise again. Even if it retreated ten thousand steps, the more deaths on the arena, the higher its status in the Wildlands would rise. It even had a plan already—to discuss with Fei Ran, Guan Xiang, and others. If it succeeded, then after Bai Ze died, its path of the Great Dao would be even broader, no longer some sneaky "Little Bai Ze," but openly becoming the "New Bai Ze"!
It was truly a case of "after endless mountains and rivers that leave doubt, there comes a village in the willows' shade"... But it hadn't expected to be targeted by that persistent surnamed Chen.
Wang Zhi's scalp tingled, its mind racing. How to get through this crisis?
After escaping death, one cherishes life even more.
As Wang Zhi's head ached and heart fluttered, whistles and cheers erupted both inside and outside the battlefield. After all, it was Wang Zhi dying—the Wildlands demons just took it as extra entertainment, not needing to pay to watch.
Zheng Juzhong neither agreed nor disagreed, as if recalling something. He looked around and smiled at everyone. "I have a list here, recording the names and Dao titles of all those qualified to ascend the arena. Newcomers will be added at any time, and according to the results of victory and defeat, old names will be crossed off."
This way, all those who shirked or avoided battle would have nowhere to hide.
As Zheng Juzhong spoke, both Haoran and the Wildlands each saw a faint moon rise, suspended high in the sky.
Could it be that Zheng Juzhong was the world's greatest mirror seller?
Zheng Dan, as the gatekeeper of White Emperor City and one of Zheng Juzhong's so-called "allies," had sparkling eyes. She once again regarded the young Hidden Official with new respect. A reputation well-deserved.
There were far too many clever people in the world who knew how to handle affairs. But "foolish" people who could both do things and dare to take responsibility—those were rare.
No matter how many beautiful sage-like principles you spouted from the sidelines, it was never as convincing as making one or two life-or-death decisions in major events.
Moreover, Chen Ping'an was no longer a barefoot wanderer, nor a hot-blooded youth acting on impulse.
Her mood was strange. She always felt that Mr. Zheng's "questioning heart" situation not only forced Bai Ze into a dead end but was actually more like a carefully set, inescapable trap aimed specifically at this young mountain lord.
Having guarded the Sword Qi Great Wall alone and fought Zhou Mi head-on... logically, he could have retired with success. Yet today, he still couldn't avoid it.
Being a "good person" was truly difficult.
Zheng Dan wanted to speak but stopped. After all, they were merely strangers who had met a few times. In the end, she didn't know what to say to the young sword cultivator.
Guan Xiang smiled. "Our Hidden Official is still as vindictive as ever."
Great danger for Daoist Da Xun.
The female Daoist Rou Ti caught the subtext. Since Chen Ping'an remembered a grudge against Wang Zhi, how could he not remember hers? Besides being the Hidden Official, he was also the new national teacher of Great Li, and he owned the unfathomable Luopo Mountain. Just the "sable-hatted girl" poking her head out on the mountain peak made Rou Ti's heart tremble, because she had keenly sensed the "a strand of sword qi" hidden in the girl's sleeve.
Rou Ti felt helpless; the situation gave her no choice. She could only send a heart message, "I am willing to act as Yu Long's guardian until she ascends to Flying Ascension."
After the battle with the young Hidden Official, Rou Ti had lost all spirit, no longer having any desire to contend with anyone. She shared the same thought as Wang Zhi—she absolutely did not want to die here. Even if she had to cultivate with her tail between her legs from now on, it was better than dying famous.
Guan Xiang clapped his hands and laughed. "It's settled then. I entrust my granddaughter to your care, Daoist."
Rou Ti glanced at this Wildlands overlord. Why did it seem like he was entrusting a child to someone?
Guan Xiang shook his sleeves. According to Zheng Juzhong's statement, those qualified to participate must be upper fifth-realm cultivators or pinnacle martial artists.
In any battle over the past ten thousand years, those who died were almost always "the nameless ones." Those fortunate enough to be recorded in history were ultimately a tiny minority.
No matter how many thousands of books exist in the world, how many names can they record? Compared to the nameless, what proportion do they occupy?
As long as one chose to enter this battlefield arranged by Zheng Juzhong, the only retreat, or rather the only way to live, was to surrender. The price was to forever distance oneself from the struggle for control of the world, forced to "imprison oneself" in one's own dojo.
Qi Tingji had made up his mind. He had to take down two Flying Ascension realm demons, send them on their way, and then sheathe his sword.
Aim for two, strive for three—extremely difficult.
If not for this, what meaning was there in practicing the sword?
Breaking through the realm would happen today.
Qi Tingji looked back towards the distant north, smiling freely. Am I right, old Sword Immortal?
Just then, from far to the south, an old man with ancient features, wearing a yellow robe, came riding clouds and mists, his purple aura soaring to the sky.
The old Daoist lifted his sleeve, gently pressing down on the cloud, hovering between heaven and earth.
This was the founding patriarch of Jade Talisman Temple, Daoist name Cloud Deep, known as Master Yan.
Having secluded himself in the Dao mountain for countless years, this time he broke his habit and descended the mountain, actively plunging into the chaos. What the old Daoist sought was just two words: "seeking release."
The old Daoist glanced at the famous last Hidden Official, then at Qi Tingji who had already thrown himself into battle. Both were sword cultivators.
Master Yan smiled. "Arriving early is better than arriving on time. I, poor Daoist, will also fight a round, doing my small part for the Wildlands."
As one long burdened by Heaven's Weariness, since he was destined never to break free, it was better to come here and seek a quick release than to be gradually worn down to death by the formless Great Dao.
The Dao is not distant from man—it is both a great opportunity for those seeking enlightenment and a heavy shackle for cultivators outside the fourteenth realm.
Master Yan's appearance boosted the morale of the Wildlands side.
Zhu Yan's expression shifted uncertainly. If there really was such a childish arena battle like a street game, how could he seize the maximum benefit for himself?
It seemed difficult. This Mountain-Moving Ancestor thought it over but still had no complete plan.
The most fatal point was that once he withdrew from the arena, according to the agreement, he would have to permanently stay away from the battlefield, only able to shrink inside a turtle-shell-like dojo and cultivate with a pure heart. Wouldn't that be unbearably dull? And if he broke the agreement, he would have to face Zheng Juzhong head-on, with no room for maneuver. To be precise, it would be fighting three "Zheng Juzhongs." Even someone as arrogant as Zhu Yan would have to think carefully.
Zheng Juzhong's way of doing things was even more Wildlands than the Wildlands themselves.
New Makeup's eyes burned as she fixed her gaze on the Hidden Official, who was at his peak on the battlefield of his homeland. She hesitated for a moment, then finally sent a heart message with a resolute tone: "Crimson Concubine, as long as that surnamed Chen goes up, if he loses, naturally, no need to say more. But if he wins a match by luck and still refuses to withdraw, then I can go up and fight him to the death. As expected, I will die without a doubt. But after that, I hope you can take your turn and see if you can pick up the spoils and kill that evil fiend."
Hearing New Makeup's murderous and sincere heart message, Crimson Concubine wanted to speak but stopped. It wasn't that she doubted the truth of New Makeup's words, but going into battle too early could easily result in being a bridesmaid for others. New Makeup was willing, but Crimson Concubine didn't want that group of new throne demons like Zhu Yan to enjoy the fruits of their labor.
For Crimson Concubine, the reasoning was simple. The Wildlands must have cultivators like Zhu Yan who acted and spoke without any regard for rules. But the Wildlands could never be handed over to that small handful of great demons like Zhu Yan to manage.
Since she couldn't decide for now, Crimson Concubine had to change the subject, teasing, "He really does deserve a woman like Ning Yao."
New Makeup was silent for a moment, then smiled. "Who says he doesn't?"
If those who could fight in both worlds, as arranged by Zheng Juzhong, surrendered or died one by one on the arena—
Then wouldn't Zheng Juzhong, after successfully establishing his sect and claiming patriarch, be able to take whatever he wanted from both worlds? And who would dare say no?
Crimson Concubine was utterly puzzled. She couldn't help looking up at the sky, wondering if Little Master was looking down upon this scene.
If Bai Ze was doing this to put his mind at ease, choosing to act on emotion, even willing to die, wouldn't you, Li Sheng, do something about it?
Master Yan was, after all, a senior with a long Dao age. Precisely because he stayed away from disputes, his view of the overall situation was all the more penetrating.
As a cultivator who could address Azure Sky Cave Lord as a fellow Daoist, Master Yan had seen too many ups and downs in the world and in people's hearts throughout his long cultivation years.
Countless Dao followers bloomed and withered. The old man suddenly looked back—old friends had faded away one by one. Without realizing it, it had become a scene of ten thousand trees stripped bare.
Everyone in the world, do not underestimate our Daoist Zheng.
Zheng Juzhong put forward such an absurd proposal, seemingly standing aloof, removing himself to profit from the conflict. But that was not the case. This man wanted to "rectify the source and clarify the stream," bearing the greatest karma of both worlds.
On the surface, Zheng Juzhong was proud and arrogant, looking down on everyone, questioning the hearts of "all the mountains."
Obviously, he was forcing Bai Ze to die, not giving him the chance to break through to a pseudo fifteenth realm.
Master Yan felt some regret in his heart. It had been many years since he last saw his fellow Daoist Azure Sky.
He wondered if the wine-making recipe he had gifted back then had produced fine wine by now.
The Dao was binding; Azure Sky couldn't just wander the Wildlands. He himself was also not free to roam leisurely.
Similar situations applied to the old Blind Man of the Hundred Thousand Mountains back then.
Chen Qingdu of the Sword Qi Great Wall, and the Tuoyue Mountain of the Wildlands—before the great war, they all had to ascertain the attitude of this Daoist Zisi.
Even if they couldn't form an alliance with him, they had to strive for his neutrality.
Mi Yu stood with his sword, facing the army of demons.
Behind him was the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Back then, A Liang must have felt the same way.
On the mountain peak, Xie Gou stood up, rubbed her sable hat, tapped her toes lightly, and leaped onto the railing.
The "girl" squinted at the heights. The morning glow and evening glow at the horizon were both free makeup, weren't they?
Perhaps because of the saying "near ink gets black," Cao Ci subconsciously imitated someone and rolled up both sleeves.
Zhou Haijing, who had gathered the power of the twelve earthly branches of Great Li into herself, felt awkward. "What do we do? How many people do we count as?"
Magical treasures could be lent out, but the formation arts required Han Zhoujin and the others to jointly control.
Yuan Huajing and the others were also speechless.
Pei Qian sent a heart message, "Grandmaster Zhou, if you can't ascend the arena, lend me those two narrow blades."
Zhou Haijing's expression turned strange. After hesitating, she still steeled herself and said, "National Teacher Chen said that the Zhan Kan and Executioner blades can be lent to anyone, except his senior disciple. That's non-negotiable. Pei Qian, I'm not lying. National Teacher Chen was smiling when he said it, but his killing intent was very strong. If you don't believe me, ask everyone in the Earthly Branch lineage. They can vouch for me."
Pei Qian was baffled.
She didn't dwell on it. It didn't matter—besides being a martial artist, she was also a sword cultivator.
Guan Xiang exclaimed in wonder, "No matter how you look at it, we are witnessing history right now."
Rou Ti felt heavy-hearted. For the first time, she felt how small she was.
Zhu Yan's Dao heart trembled slightly. Why had Yang Zhi Daoist voluntarily given up that agreement? On the Haoran side, who had her in their sights?
At the edge of the battlefield, Zheng Juzhong suggested, "How about we walk and talk?"
Bai Ze nodded. "What does Mr. Chen say?"
In the end, he still hoped Li Sheng would appear.
Chen Ping'an said, "You go ahead a few steps. I'll go deal with Wang Zhi and catch up quickly."
Bai Ze turned to look at Zheng Juzhong.
Zheng Juzhong smiled knowingly. "Then I'll clean up Wang Zhi's mess. Consider it a reward for overseeing the battle."
Wang Zhi's heart instantly turned to ashes.
Being targeted by Zheng Juzhong—what difference was there from being hunted by Chen Ping'an?
Chen Ping'an hesitated for a moment but didn't insist on killing Wang Zhi himself.
Bai Ze and Chen Ping'an walked side by side.
Zheng Juzhong went over to Wang Zhi's side.
Wang Zhi trembled, "I implore Mr. Zheng to leave me a way to live?"
Zheng Juzhong said, "What are you afraid of? From ancient times to now, heaven never closes all doors."
Wang Zhi mistakenly thought Zheng Juzhong valued its Dao path prospects. As it relaxed a little, Zheng Juzhong reached out and pressed its head. In its dying moments, Wang Zhi only heard, "But I'm not heaven."
Ignoring the commotion over there, Bai Ze, with a dazed expression, said, "Mr. Zheng thinks I have a weak character. I admit it. Over the years, whether in Haoran or back in the Wildlands, I sometimes wonder if it's precisely because I insisted on what I thought was right... certain natural principles... that led me to bring the worst outcome to all demons."
The scholars of Haoran often had lofty aspirations, wanting to shelter all the poor in the world under a great roof.
He, Bai Ze, also had his own pursuit—to protect all demons in the world and grant them freedom.
Bai Ze laughed at himself. "Although I couldn't achieve it, always failed at it, I've carried this intention in my heart for over ten thousand years."
Chen Ping'an put away his long sword, splitting it into three sword lights, which dispersed into his three earliest natal qi palaces.
Whether it was their first meeting on the snowy plank road or later encounters, the impression Bai Ze gave was always that he walked very slowly. Probably because he carried too much burden, always heavy-hearted, always full of worries.
In contrast, A Liang walked the jianghu with various "beauties" big and small. He seemed to bring everyone around him a great trust: "Don't worry, I'm here. The sky won't fall."
Senior Brother Zuo You, when you looked at him, he seemed stern. He was a very serious, upright gentleman. Zuo You liked to be meticulous; there was no "out of sight, out of mind" for him.
First he studied, then practiced swordsmanship. He achieved success in both because he wanted to go and meet tomorrow's wrong people and wrong things.
Bai Ze stopped, crouched down, grabbed a handful of dust, and muttered to himself, "What to do?"
Zheng Juzhong returned quickly. Wang Zhi's form had already been put into his sleeve. He smiled, "Indeed, what to do?"
Looking around, the Wildlands—more precisely, all demons from several worlds—this was Bai Ze's exclusive "Book-Summarizing Lake."
Because Bai Ze's relation to the Wildlands demons was like Chen Ping'an's to Gu Can at Book-Summarizing Lake.
Just as Zheng Juzhong had privately said to his disciple.
"Book-Summarizing Lake can never kill Book-Summarizing Lake."
Chen Ping'an put his hands in his sleeves, looking straight ahead, and said softly, "Seeing Mr. Bai Ze, who is always troubled, makes me feel there is still hope for this world."
There still seemed to be room for... reasoning.
Bai Ze stood up, continued walking slowly, was silent for a long time, then raised his arm, rubbed his cheeks, and smiled. "You flatter me."
Even though he had self-awareness, Zheng Juzhong's earlier words still stung his heart.
After all, no matter how the demons viewed him as a sinner, at least face-to-face, they still had to call him, though undeservedly, "Lord Bai Ze."
Trembling with fear, becoming more cautious every day. In the end, he was still a cowardly waste. He could neither learn Jiang She, the First Patriarch of the Military Strategists, to be impassioned and go his own way, nor could he learn Guan Xiang and Zhu Yan to seize opportunities and engage in petty scheming.
Revered or reviled throughout the world, how many true friends did he have?
Just Little Master alone.
Bai Ze suddenly said, "Chen Ping'an, you are still young."
Having done good deeds, you can rest. Being a good person means being a good person for life. This is no easy task.
Chen Ping'an was silent.
Zheng Juzhong laughed. "At this moment, Mr. Chen should say, 'I am good at cultivating Haoran's righteous qi.'"
Chen Ping'an joked, "I was waiting for Mr. Zheng to say that for me. You can't say good things about yourself; it would make your face too thick."
Bai Ze was somewhat envious of their... ease.
Probably because they both acted with a clear conscience.
Li Sheng finally arrived.
Bai Ze felt relieved.
Zheng Juzhong, however, was quite dismissive.
Li Sheng said, "Even if we're going to fight an arena battle, you should be the last to appear, responsible for the finale."
Chen Ping'an explained, "I'm not entirely without a chance of winning."
Li Sheng said, "Against Zhou Mi, you took the lead. Against the Wildlands, you handle the finale. That's called having a beginning and an end."
Bai Ze smiled. "Little Master has read many books. It's always right to listen to him."
Li Sheng said, "Whether we meet on the battlefield or in the arena, first call Fei Ran over. Let's discuss again."
Bai Ze turned to Zheng Juzhong. "What does Mr. Zheng say?"
Zheng Juzhong smiled. "A troublemaker has no right to say no."
Li Sheng said calmly, "Creating chaos under heaven."
Zheng Juzhong said, "A good opportunity is fleeting. If we don't seek change, it will truly become stagnant. In the next ten thousand years, even without the court ruins above and Zhou Mi, the world might still be the same as the past ten thousand years, perhaps even worse."
Li Sheng looked at Chen Ping'an and said, "Forget about this place. Go and meet Mr. Lu on the way?"
Chen Ping'an was stunned for a moment, then realized he meant Lu Chen.
Li Sheng smiled. "Hesitating to move—are you afraid I'll steal your thunder?"
Chen Ping'an turned back and exchanged a few words with the people of Luopo Mountain. After withdrawing his gaze, he said, "I'll trouble you, Li Sheng."
Li Sheng nodded.
Meet Lu Chen.
On the vast, boundless desolate earth, there stood a towering, majestic Dharma form that was both sky-supporting and trapped in place.
Chen Ping'an sat cross-legged, fists resting on his knees, looking up at the Daoist wearing a golden lotus crown.
In this strange, magical realm, the emptiness made it feel as if only "you and I" remained in the world.
The Daoist's face was chaotic, without distinct features, more like a ceaselessly circulating pattern of yin and yang fish.
Although "everywhere in life is Book-Summarizing Lake,"
"From ancient times, youth meets youth."
Lu Chen spoke first, his voice rumbling like thunder, with a hint of laughter of an old friend reunited: "We can reminisce, but no need to save me."
Chen Ping'an said irritably, "No outsiders here. Stop playing the hero."
Lu Chen laughed. "If you really save poor Daoist, and I get out to take charge of the White Jade Capital, then how can you freely challenge Jade Capital Mountain later? Don't trouble yourself with unnecessary worries. It's better to just chat about hometown matters like this, rather than meeting on a narrow path one day and fighting to the death."
Chen Ping'an said, "If we assume that Lu Chen's allegorical Dao arts will inevitably split the world..."
Lu Chen understood and took over, "The pessimists believe it will definitely shatter into pieces, with fundamentals and branches drifting further apart. People like Lu Chen and Zouzi are such figures."
"The optimists think future generations can trace back to the source, or that different paths lead to the same destination. People like Qi Jingchun of the Grotto-Heaven of Li Zhu and Chen Ping'an of Mud Vase Alley are such figures."
"The mediators are Cui Chan, Yu Dou, Zheng Juzhong, and the like."
"None of them are necessarily entirely correct, but without any of them, it's definitely wrong."
Lu Chen laughed freely. "Perhaps because I see the ways of the world too clearly, I find it hard to bear probing into people's hearts any further."
The Daoist looked up at the sky. "Like a mortal gazing at the sun—stare too long directly, and it makes your eyes water."
The Daoist covered his face with one hand, fumbling as if he couldn't see his own fingers, muttering to himself, "When the sky darkens, you can see those especially bright things, burning the eyes."
He lowered his hand and looked around. "In this bright world, the thing called 'people's hearts'—how brilliant and splendid it is."
The Daoist gave a soft "heh." "My body wanders, searching up and down, a cup of turbid wine."
Don't think too much about things outside the cup. Settle your mind before the storm settles.
Where's the wine?
The "Daoist" suddenly erupted in anger, staring intently at Chen Ping'an. "Confucian scholar! To wear this robe without practicing this Dao—your crime is death!"
Chen Ping'an rested his chin on one hand, pulling the corner of his mouth, not hiding his mockery, letting the "Daoist" possessed by external heavens demons threaten him.
Nothing more.
Heaven and earth were desolate as the Daoist lamented, "Alone stands a man, standing in Confucian robes, asked about state affairs, enduring a thousand changes without end."
No one knew how long passed before Lu Chen regained control of his Dao body. "All feasts must end. Don't stay here too long."
Lu Chen saw that the fellow wasn't moving and laughed angrily. "Don't try to be tough and eat 'them' for me. Such rebellious quenching of thirst by drinking poison will only bring more loss than gain."
Chen Ping'an stood up and said, "Next time we meet, I'll definitely bring wine."
Lu Chen laughed loudly. "The drinker is invincible. Do not doubt me!"