Chapter 40: Walking the Jianghu
Wei Bo went to Qidun Mountain. The willows along the former imperial carriage path were lush and graceful, the mountain flowers in full bloom.
Lu Shen secretly left the Tiandu Peak training grounds, crossing continents to return to the Central Earth.
Another young sword-bearing Taoist made a grand visit to Piyun Mountain.
Gazing at the great mountain from afar—verdant hues lining the path, white clouds swirling like a ritual robe—the Taoist nodded to himself. No wonder it had been elevated to become a northern sacred mountain of a continent.
Wei Bo keenly sensed the other's extraordinary nature and quickly identified the Taoist's identity, much to his astonishment. Wei Bo personally went to welcome him at Piyun Mountain, making a Daoist bow: "Wei Bo of the Northern Sacred Mountain pays respects to the Celestial Master."
Zhao Tianlai, the current Celestial Master of Longhu Mountain, returned the greeting: "I apologize for disturbing the Deity."
Wei Bo asked, "Does the Celestial Master have important business on this trip? If so, Wei Bo can relay a message to either Fallen Mountain or the Great Li Song Clan."
The last time he set foot on Vase Bottle Continent, it was this Celestial Master himself who had suppressed Liu Chicheng of White Emperor City.
Ultimately, it was Grand Tutor Cui who had done something on the side, allowing Liu Chicheng, who had languished in sunless darkness for a millennium, to barely break through that grand formation.
Zhao Tianlai shook his head: "No pressing matters. Just taking a casual stroll. Lord Wei need not trouble with hospitality."
Last night, learning that the Wildlands were about to hold a challenge platform, Zhao Tianlai had quickly given instructions on relevant matters at the Celestial Master Residence and hurried down the mountain.
But shortly after leaving the mountain, he learned the situation had changed. Since he couldn't very well head straight back to Longhu Mountain, he decided to come to Vase Bottle Continent instead, treating it as a revisit to familiar grounds.
One of those matters was arranging who would succeed him as Celestial Master if he couldn't return.
At the same time, Zhao Tianlai also frankly stated that the Celestial Master Sword and Seal he had brought down the mountain might not be sent back to the Celestial Master Residence.
Wei Bo laughed: "I absolutely must accompany the Celestial Master on a tour of Piyun Mountain. Every extra word I get to exchange with the Celestial Master is a gain—I can absorb some immortal aura."
Zhao Tianlai, being a free-spirited type, replied, "Then I, the poor Taoist, will absorb some divine aura in turn."
Outside the mountain, summer heat was intense; within, the climate was cool and refreshing. Because Piyun Mountain housed the Linlu Academy, it had gradually become a summer retreat for many literati.
Wei Bo said he would be brazen enough to ask the Celestial Master for a calligraphic piece, to be used for cliff-face inscriptions.
Zhao Tianlai readily agreed, but asked, "Why travel far when there's a close neighbor, Lord?"
Piyun Mountain and Fallen Mountain were close neighbors, and Chen Ping'an had once personally compiled the Hundred Sword Immortal Seal Manual and the Two Hundred Sword Immortal Seal Manual.
Wei Bo laughed: "Chen Ping'an only dares to call himself a connoisseur of appreciation. When it comes to literati's poetry, calligraphy, painting, and seals, he only touches on seal carving."
Zhao Tianlai said, "Too modest. The character 'Ping'—the word for duckweed—that the Hidden Official carved on the city wall was filled with sword aura, strong in structure and spirit. Far from an amateur hand."
Wei Bo didn't know how to respond, thinking to himself, this hasn't even reached Fallen Mountain yet.
Zhao Tianlai was only speaking his mind, unaware of the customs of Piyun and Fallen Mountains, so how could he know about this Night Wandering Deity's "guilty conscience"?
People were used to saying "climbing" or "scaling" in official circles, where "climb" referred to the difficulty of promotion and "scale" to the slowness of advancement.
But Wei Bo's ascent in the landscape of officialdom had been astonishingly rapid—within just thirty years, he had risen from a dirt-covered local land god to the righteous deity of a continent's five sacred mountains, and had also been enfeoffed by the Confucian Temple as a Deity.
In casual conversation, one always needs a common topic. Soon they were discussing their mutual "friend"—that roguish man who fancied himself a swordsman.
Zhao Tianlai sighed emotionally: "When we met years ago in a thatched inn on a snowy night, drinking warmed wine and sharing our hearts, then suddenly spring followed winter, summer followed spring—in the blink of an eye, a hundred cycles have passed."
They also talked about that batch of True Man Yu Xuan's disciples and grand-disciples, now cultivating diligently on Huaying Peak.
Wei Bo planned to casually mention inviting the Celestial Master to go preach there.
Zhao Tianlai was surprised: "Oh? Is that so? Then I, the poor Taoist, should go take a look."
Wei Bo had originally just been throwing it out there—if it worked, it would be an unexpected delight; a polite refusal would have been entirely reasonable.
Zhao Tianlai smiled: "If I can indeed teach others to fish, pass on a few lines of true dharma, isn't that also my own karmic affinity?"
Since it was on the way, Wei Bo led the Celestial Master to visit Piyun Temple. They were received by the same old temple master. The small temple had modest incense offerings, and the temple master handled both hospitality and reception. Because Wei Bo had used a camouflage technique, and Zhao Tianlai wasn't the type to have his portrait plastered everywhere in the Haoran world—just a green jade hairpin in his bun and an ordinary Taoist robe—the presiding old temple master naturally didn't recognize them.
The old temple master asked, "Is my fellow Taoist traveling here from elsewhere on a pilgrimage?"
Zhao Tianlai nodded and smiled: "I've long heard of the Northern Sacred Mountain's fame. I felt I had to enter the mountain and see it myself to consider this trip worthwhile."
The old temple master thought for a moment, couldn't help but ask tentatively: "Is my fellow Taoist here for the Night Wandering Feast?"
Zhao Tianlai smiled back: "It seems Piyun Mountain hasn't recently announced plans for a Night Wandering Feast?"
The old temple master hesitated, almost speaking but stopping. He couldn't very well tell this fellow Taoist that Lord Wei and Piyun Mountain were fine, it was just the Night Wandering Feast that was problematic—not just a little disappointing. After thinking it over, he only vaguely said, "Bad timing."
Wei Bo kept a calm expression but was inwardly bitter. This was practically his own family, and they wouldn't even say something nice?
As they toured the temple together, Wei Bo only then realized how talkative the Celestial Master could be. Even though Piyun Temple's architectural style was ordinary, Zhao Tianlai's interest remained undiminished. He chatted quite warmly with the old temple master, and when the latter invited them for tea, the Celestial Master accepted without refusal. When the topic turned to Daoist traditions, Zhao Tianlai said: "Because of my family background, I was able to cultivate from childhood. Besides Daoist scriptures, I also read extensively from hundred schools of thought. From a young age, I firmly believed in what the books recorded—that one who accumulates hidden virtue will surely receive open rewards, that one who practices hidden conduct will surely gain clear fame. I was especially interested in 'performing three thousand good deeds.' However, in my youth, my understanding was shallow. Every time I went down the mountain for training, I would record my good deeds and calculate how far I was from 'completing three thousand meritorious acts.' In those days, the elders in my family just watched coldly, deliberately not pointing out the flaw, at most reminding me that outside the mountain, I must never 'dazzle with technique.'"
The old temple master nodded gently upon hearing this. From this guest's bearing, he was clearly not an ordinary Taoist. Noble without being arrogant—truly rare.
Wei Bo secretly rubbed his brow.
Zhao Tianlai continued: "Later, although I encountered no barriers in cultivation, I had a problem with the concept of 'knowing.' The elders finally had a talk with me, all in plain, everyday language. They said that when we do a good deed unknown to the world, that is hidden virtue. Or when others say you have done a good deed, but you yourself are unaware of it and seek no return—that is truly accumulating blessings. That was the first point. One must both understand the principle of 'widely practicing hidden virtue, reaching up to heaven. When sincerity reaches its utmost, inspiration connects to the divine,' yet not be trapped by the principle, causing the Dao-heart to stagnate. Later on, one only remembers 'widely practicing hidden virtue' and forgets 'reaching up to heaven.' Over years and months, with prolonged effort, believing it should be so—that is cultivation. That was the second point. Those who cultivate the Dao, whether they occupy famous mountains to establish training grounds or absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, always take from the insufficient to serve the excessive. How to reduce one's own excess to supplement the deficiencies of heaven, earth, and others—that is acting on behalf of heaven."
The old temple master stroked his beard and smiled: "Your elders have insight."
He called an acolyte to boil water and brew tea, then led the two guests into a simple but clean room.
Zhao Tianlai spotted a couplet on the table, filled with misty clouds and dripping ink, but without a signature.
The old temple master explained: "It's a piece just left by a Chen surname incense-offerer. Unfortunately, this benefactor refused to sign his name."
Wei Bo laughed in exasperation. Chen Ping'an—this fellow never spoke a true word.
The old temple master pressed on: "I earnestly ask my fellow Taoist not to be stingy with his brush and ink either?"
Zhao Tianlai focused on the couplet for a moment, then laughed: "With such a pearl of jade before me, I dare not set brush to paper."
The couplet read:
"He who studies the Dao enters the temple with the white clouds, among a thousand green bamboos, morning bells and evening drums speak of one giving birth to two, two giving birth to three, three giving birth to the myriad things, his spirit roams and knows past and present.
"He who cultivates true nature leaves the mountain with the green waters, amid the vast red dust of the world, spring breezes and autumn moons transmit earth following heaven, heaven following the Dao, the Dao following nature, in his rounds he sees himself."
---
At dawn, Pei Qian arrived at an inn in Yongtai County. They had agreed to meet at the chen hour to go together to the Four Seas Martial Arts School. She was going to recommend the two youths to Wei Li.
Hong Tao and the others had all changed into clean clothes early on. After all, today they were going to apprentice themselves, not beg at a doorstep.
Last night, upon leaving the Grand Tutor Residence, Rong Yu had given them two pouches, one filled with loose silver and the other with gold melon seeds.
Money gives a man courage. Even if the apprenticeship failed, staying in the capital city, eating and drinking freely, they could manage for over a month, and still have enough for travel expenses back home.
When they met up again and saw Pei Qian, the scrawny youth asked cautiously, "You're Zheng Qian, right?"
Pei Qian didn't deny it. She smiled and said, "Can't keep anything to yourself?"
Ma Buhai grinned and said, "Anyway, we can't fool you, so why hide it? Headman Hong is right—don't play sly tricks with smart people, or you'll just look exceptionally stupid."
The old man's emotions were complicated. Somehow, he felt like he was dreaming.
They had been inside the Grand Tutor Residence, met the Great Li Grand Tutor, and even nearly eaten a midnight snack there.
Pei Qian said, "You're lucky to have met Mr. Hong."
Hong Tao rubbed his hands vigorously, flustered: "I don't deserve that, I don't deserve that."
The term "Mister" was reserved for scholars—it had nothing to do with him.
Along the way, Ma Buhai asked about all sorts of things, mostly embellished stories about that battle in the secondary capital. Pei Qian occasionally responded.
When they reached the martial arts school, which was already bustling early in the morning, they could hear through the wall a chorus of "hems and haws" from within the courtyard—dozens of stout young men practicing on stakes, refining their bodies with boxing exercises. Interspersed was a man's scolding voice, reciting some basic boxing formulas.
Pei Qian stopped, clasped her fists, and said to the martial arts student who doubled as a gatekeeper: "My name is Zheng Qian. I am an old acquaintance of your school master. I presume to visit unannounced; there is something I wish to discuss. Please trouble you to announce me."
The gatekeeper asked suspiciously, "Which Zheng Qian?"
He quickly sized up the young woman with her hair in a topknot. His heart was uneasy—it couldn't be, could it?
Naturally, he knew "that Zheng Qian." Any martial artist who made a living in the jianghu would know "Zheng Qingming" and "Zheng the Money-Sprayer" from the battlefield of the secondary capital. It was like a mountain cultivator seeking immortality not knowing about the Wei Sword Immortal of Snow Wind Temple.
What's more, their own school master would constantly boast about the intricacies and dangers of that sparring session back in the day...
But it was like a local county clerk's door being knocked on at dawn, only for the visitor to claim the same name as some minister in the capital—wouldn't you have to ask?
Pei Qian smiled: "It's the Zheng Qian who sparred with your school master."
The stout young man had no more doubts. He hurriedly clasped his fists in return. What kind of fool would impersonate Zheng Qian and try to cheat their school master?
School Master Wei Li followed his usual routine: after getting up, he went to the main hall to offer incense. Leaving his room, he took a purple clay teapot filled with pre-Qingming tea from his second disciple. Frowning slightly, Wei Li reminded his disciple to replace the seasonal offerings with fresh ones—they weren't so poor they couldn't afford that. The proud disciple quickly noted this.
Their master was a Golden Body realm martial artist. Barely making any money running a martial arts school was a waste of talent. He should be establishing a sect out there in the jianghu.
Back then, in the secondary capital Luo Jing, their master had exchanged four punches with Zheng Qian, who was later hailed as one of the four great martial arts grandmasters of Vase Bottle Continent.
With such a golden signboard, everywhere he went, people would welcome him.
The senior brother often said privately that if their master went to some kingdom south of the Great River, he could easily land a real military position—it would be like taking candy from a baby.
But their master always said he was just a common grassroots martial artist. Playing mind games with officials would only get him used as a tool, or tricked into dying on the battlefield. With his personality, he couldn't be the kind of military officer who "dies as a soldier, but the merit goes to the general." A surge of passion, and he'd be the first to charge, bravely sacrificing himself.
The martial arts students had long gotten used to their master's habit of spouting bits of poetry and sour phrases.
Just like the senior brother couldn't speak without cursing when teaching on behalf of their master.
Still, there was no denying the Golden Body realm was genuine. He took money seriously and actually taught real skills.
When Wei Li saw Pei Qian, he hurried over. Pei Qian performed the jianghu formalities, introduced the two youths, and said straightforwardly: "They want to apprentice themselves to School Master Wei and learn martial arts."
Wei Li nodded without hesitation: "No problem. They can skip the apprenticeship tea ceremony. From this moment on, they are my personal disciples."
The two youths exchanged glances. Was this too casual, a bit perfunctory, not formal enough?
Wei Li asked carefully, "Grandmaster Zheng, are there any requirements? For example, after a few years, what realm should Ma Buhai and Hu Jin have reached?"
Pei Qian shook her head: "They are learning boxing from School Master Wei. The master leads you in, but cultivation depends on the individual. Whether they become accomplished or not is not for an outsider to decide."
Wei Li breathed a sigh of relief.
Pei Qian hesitated, then said: "A new White Cloud Escort Agency has opened in the capital. It's a small operation, just now settling in Yongtai County. May I trouble School Master Wei to secretly look after them a bit? Without violating jianghu rules, if appropriate, lend a small hand."
Wei Li was a true veteran of the jianghu. His sense of propriety in words and deeds was already at its peak. He immediately understood and knew he wouldn't mishandle this task.
Pei Qian smiled and clasped her fists in thanks. Wei Li hurriedly returned the gesture.
After the jianghu courtesies, Wei Li said he wanted a private word with Grandmaster Zheng. Pei Qian had no objection. Walking along the school's corridor, Wei Li used the technique of condensing sound into a thread and asked tentatively: "Grandmaster Zheng, have you known my background for a long time?"
He was still used to calling Pei Qian "Grandmaster Zheng."
Pei Qian nodded and asked in return: "Since you haven't been fighting in wars for years, why haven't you gone back to visit?"
Wei Li laughed bitterly: "What face would I have to go back? If I went there, I wouldn't be able to sleep."
Pei Qian didn't know what to say.
As it turned out, Wei Li was from the old White Frost Dynasty's military aristocracy. Born into a powerful clan with natural martial talent, he had excellent teachers. He understood military strategy and was a martial arts grandmaster famous from youth. His ambitions were sky-high, believing himself capable of great feats on the battlefield. But in those days, the White Frost Dynasty was at its peak, surrounded by vassal states, and they had proudly claimed no frontier poems had been written for over a century. So Wei Li never had the chance to carry his sword and bend his bow on the sandy borderlands.
Wei Li had once sparred with a Traveling Realm martial grandmaster, claiming to be indifferent to life and death. That elder had praised him highly. But when the savage monsters from the Wildlands invaded and landed on Vase Bottle Continent, Wei Li truly enlisted. Thrust into the brutal battlefield, just one experience was enough to terrify him.
On the battlefield, whether they were Great Li border troops or wildland monsters, mountain immortals or mortal soldiers, they died in vast swaths, almost all of them leaving no intact bodies.
Wei Li, knocked unconscious by a spell, was fished out of a pile of corpses by Great Li iron cavalry after the battle ended.
Those young cavalrymen, their faces still youthful, had sincere smiles. They said, "You're really lucky—you're barely hurt."
Probably they simply thought that since Wei Li had dared to fight, he wasn't weak—he was a real man. And surviving the battlefield was a good thing.
Wei Li clenched his fist and knocked on his chest: "It's stifling in here."
His nation had fallen, his family dead, yet he himself had not died. All those clansmen and battlefield brothers-in-arms—only he, craven and afraid of death, had survived alone.
Later, in the Great Li secondary capital Luo Jing, Wei Li said he was asking for a sparring match, but it was actually to beg for a beating from "Zheng Qian." Some unspeakable matters were like being tied to his internal organs; he feared that if he spoke them out loud, they would shatter his heart and guts.
A strong, healthy man with martial skills had become a ghost longing for home.
Perhaps a person's inner guilt and regret is like an executioner lying in wait, making the past unbearable to revisit.
Pei Qian hesitated but still said nothing.
Words that stab people in the heart—she had been good at those since childhood. Words of comfort—she always felt they changed flavor when spoken.
Wei Li smiled bitterly: "It's not about seeking peace of mind—I don't have that qualification. The reason I'm telling Grandmaster Zheng this today is just so I won't be suffocated alive."
Pei Qian said, "I might be taking a trip through the jianghu soon. In the former White Frost Dynasty area, do you have any relatives or friends? I can deliver messages for you."
Wei Li shook his head. "None."
After Pei Qian left the martial arts school, although the two youths hadn't performed the apprenticeship ceremony, Wei Li had gifts for them as new disciples.
The school had treasured several vermilion-sketched images of sword immortals slaying evil.
Nearby shops had soon stopped selling them, but one clever student had bought several in time. Heard the price had skyrocketed—if one wanted to sell now, it would fetch a good sum of real gold and silver. The authorities had discouraged continued sales, but didn't pursue or confiscate those that had already entered private hands.
Wei Li gave each new disciple one of the sword immortal pictures.
After sincerely thanking their master, the two youths clutched their scrolls, exchanged glances, and barely suppressed their laughter.
Wei Li was as meticulous as ever. Though he didn't understand, he didn't bother asking for the reason. He simply said sternly, "Start practicing!"
Pei Qian left the school alone and saw her master standing outside. She walked quickly to him, and they strolled together along the street, finding a nearby breakfast stall. Chen Ping'an ordered two bowls of oil-splashed noodles and a steamer basket of steaming buns. The vendor soon brought them to the table.
Chen Ping'an first drew a pair of chopsticks from the bamboo tube and handed them to Pei Qian. He smiled and asked, "Why aren't you willing to take on disciples yourself?"
He remembered when Pei Qian was still little Hei Tan—she used to constantly say that if she learned magical arts, she'd become a founding patriarch, her territory would be huge. Every time she returned to her training grounds, she'd have a sea of disciples kowtowing, the thumping of their heads louder than thunder. Or that she'd master a peerless boxing method in at most a month, become the number one jianghu grandmaster, and take on ten thousand disciples. Then when she went out to fight, it would be lively.
Just as he could never reconcile Wei Bo with the old land god from years past, could Chen Ping'an still superimpose the image of today's Pei Qian with the former little Hei Tan? It seemed he couldn't.
Pei Qian stirred the oil-splashed noodles with her chopsticks and said softly, "Afraid of disappointment."
Chen Ping'an smiled and asked, "Afraid they won't learn their skills well?"
Pei Qian shook her head. "Afraid their resolve won't be single-minded, that they can't endure hardship and will give up halfway. Also afraid that after they learn boxing, they won't be good people but will bully others with their fists."
She paused, then continued: "Even more afraid that for the sake of being 'good people,' they'll be frustrated and unhappy their whole lives. Most afraid that for the sake of 'good people,' they'll die in the jianghu."
Chen Ping'an said "Mm," rolled up some noodles with his chopsticks, and paused before taking a bite. He looked up and asked, "Is one bowl of oil-splashed noodles enough?"
Pei Qian lowered her head and wolfed down her food. Soon she looked up, cheeks bulging, and said indistinctly, "Master, do you want the truth or a lie?"
Chen Ping'an smiled, laid his chopsticks flat, wiped them across the bowl rim, put the rolled-up noodles back, and pushed the bowl toward Pei Qian. He raised his hand to order another bowl from the vendor.
The capital's natives always knew everything about the world.
A diner at the next table picked up a thin-skinned, generously-filled bun, slurped the soup, and said mysteriously: "I hear the Grand Tutor is soon going to personally serve as Vice Principal of the Spring Mountain Academy. He won't be teaching military strategy but will lecture on Neo-Confucianism instead. Hoh, now that's interesting."
Another person, puzzled, drank a bowl of soy milk, wiped his mouth, and asked: "What's so interesting about that? A Principal isn't even as good as the Imperial Academy Chancellor—it's not even an official post. Besides, that Neo-Confucianism stuff was always the specialty of Lake View Academy. They always said we Great Li folks were northern barbarians. And in the end? How did it turn out? The Grand Tutor is really going to lecture on that?"
"You don't know, do you? One of the pillars of the Second Sage lineage—the Southern Continent's Drunken Confucian Chen clan, headed by Chen Chunhua—is about to come lecture in our Great Li. If you ask me, I reckon he's going to have a big argument with the Grand Tutor at the academy. That debate between the Three and Four at the Confucian Temple back in the day is about to reach a conclusion."
"Is the other party stupid? They dare to come? Even jianghu gang leaders negotiating peace wouldn't set the meeting in the opponent's backyard."
"Who knows? Maybe Grand Tutor put his sword to the other's neck and 'invited' that great Confucian scholar to our Great Li."
In the early days, the common people of Great Li didn't know about the connection between the Embroidery Tiger and the Literary Sage lineage. But after Chen Ping'an, the Literary Sage's last disciple, took over as Grand Tutor, the truth that Cui Chan was originally the Literary Sage's first disciple surfaced. So now, both court and society naturally favored the Literary Sage lineage.
Pei Qian glanced at her master. Was Grand Tutor really forcing someone to come to Great Li to argue by sword-point?
Chen Ping'an paid the stall owner and flicked his finger as if to rap a chestnut (or a head—a playful threat).
Back at the Grand Tutor Residence entrance, Pei Qian was startled. She saw Guo Zhujiu holding a horse's reins—it seemed to be the horse "Quhuang" that her master had ridden when he returned to his hometown that year?
The horse had been at Fallen Mountain for many years, usually cared for by Chen Lingjun and Nuanshu. Having presumably chewed some elixirs, it no longer looked old, thin, or weak. A bundle was slung over one side of the saddle, as if prepared in advance. Pei Qian scratched her head. When she was little, she had always clamored to roam the jianghu, asking her master to give her a little donkey. She had yearned for it for years while practicing boxing at Fallen Mountain. But after growing up, she had instead ceased to dream of the so-called jianghu.
Chen Ping'an took the reins from Guo Zhujiu and handed them to Pei Qian. He smiled and said, "Go walk the jianghu."
---
The peach blossoms at Xuan Du Temple bloomed luxuriantly. A young girl in a female crown—a formal headdress for Taoist nuns—strolled along the peach forest path, a peach branch dangling from her hand.
She was Wang Sun, the senior sister of former temple master Sun Huaizhong. Now she served as acting temple master.
During those years when Junior Brother Sun managed temple affairs, she had been at leisure, roaming the four directions with her sword, drifting like a watermelon rind underfoot—wherever it slid, she went. But after all, between the blue sky and yellow earth, it was hard to distinguish home from foreign lands.
She didn't like crowding into famous mountains, great rivers, or grand temples. In the marketplace, she had seen countless beautiful spring couplets, huge stone lions, lofty plaques with few characters, small incense burners in desolate temples, fine mountains, lovely waters, beautiful scenery, good wine, and fair women. Her only interest was collecting and hoarding amber, especially pieces with insects inside. When she returned to the temple, she would label each piece with the year, month, and place of collection.
Looking into the distance, she saw a tiger-head hat approaching. Occasionally it brushed against the drooping peach blossoms.
Under the comical hat was a handsome, elegant young face, his expression icy cold.
It was hard to imagine that this was the man once called the Most Proud Under Heaven in the entire Haoran world—Bai Ye.
Wang Sun stopped. When Bai Ye reached her, she turned back along the same path. Bai Ye walked beside her.
Wang Sun said, "Just like the line in your poem: 'Those who do not know me wonder what I seek.' Perhaps Junior Brother Sun is that kind of person."
Bai Ye nodded.
Wang Sun twirled the peach branch and smiled: "Don't be fooled by the crude talk he's given since becoming famous. Junior Brother Sun is actually extremely talented. I remember a senior from the mountains saying long ago that because he came from a prominent family, he had the air of a privileged son; because he cultivated successfully at Xuan Du Temple, he had immortal aura; because he often traveled the jianghu alone, he had heroic spirit; because he was deeply proficient in poetry and song, he had the flair of a gifted scholar."
Bai Ye smiled knowingly.
Wang Sun laughed: "Junior Brother claims that in his interactions with people after his initial cultivation success, he had a unique 'three-tier' secret formula—upper, middle, and lower."
Bai Ye asked, "What does that mean?"
Wang Sun said slowly: "When he goes to places of overwhelming power and wealth, or finds himself among gatherings of accomplished Taoists at grand banquets, he will certainly sit in the highest position, imposing and dominant. When co-signing memorials to the throne with Taoist officials, or adding inscriptions to paintings and calligraphy with friends, he will certainly sign his name at the very end. As for the matter of cultivation itself, he neither stands out nor lags behind. Between heaven and earth, between life and death, we fellow cultivators are fortunate to occupy the middle, and he says one should have an ordinary mind."
Bai Ye said, "That makes sense."
Wang Sun played a few tricks with the peach branch, inside and outside spins, and said: "When we first started cultivating, we snuck out and got into a group fight. We lost. We didn't dare return to the temple immediately, so we wandered around. In some capital, we encountered an old beggar woman. Junior Brother Sun gave her all the money he had. He asked her name, birthplace, hometown customs, why she was displaced. They talked for nearly half an hour. From beginning to end, I didn't see any impatience on Junior Brother's face."
Bai Ye said, "I am not as good as Senior Sun."
In the forest stream, the water was covered with floating peach petals.
Bai Ye asked a question that spoiled the mood: "Do you actually like Senior Sun or not?"
Wang Sun's brow was furrowed: "I also don't like a version of myself that doesn't like Junior Brother Sun. But I just don't like him—what can I do?"
Bai Ye looked at the winding stream of peach blossoms and sighed: "My sorrow stretches as long as this."
---
This was the first time Old Deaf had visited Huanghu Mountain. He wanted to invite Liu Cha to come to Huaying Peak and give a talk on swordsmanship—any content would do, even just going through the motions, being perfunctory. At the very least, it would lift the spirits of the younger students. Besides, it was good for them to see more of a Flying Immortal realm cultivator of formidable killing power and better understand the heights and depths of the cultivation path.
Old Deaf was worried he might not be well received, maybe even be turned away at the door. But if he didn't personally go to Huanghu Mountain and ask Liu Cha face to face, he would never be able to give up hope.
Fortunately, although Liu Cha treated this fellow tribe sword immortal as if he weren't there, he didn't chase him away. He just sat on a bamboo chair, leisurely mixing bait and casting his line, completely ignoring Old Deaf. If Liu Cha thought this soft dismissal would work, he was mistaken. Old Deaf had been at Fallen Mountain long enough to have learned some genuine skills.
Luring Liu Cha into giving a lecture was out of the question—Old Deaf had a general idea. But he wanted to take this opportunity to speak a few words of "native language" with Liu Cha.
Liu Cha naturally had nothing to talk about with Old Deaf, but he felt the other's sword strike on the rainy post-road outside Great Li's capital hadn't been bad.
Old Deaf tentatively said: "Entering and leaving mountains all have their karmic conditions. Since you've come to Fallen Mountain's territory, Mr. Liu, could you give one lecture at Huaying Peak and offer some pointers to the young ones?"
Liu Cha said calmly: "Gantang, spare me your clever words."
"Sword training is a major matter; passing down the Dao is also a major matter. If I nod today, I won't treat it sloppily."
Liu Cha snorted derisively: "You've only been here a few days and you're already fluent in officialese? If you stay a few more years, the Great Li Song Clan will have to make you their chief guest cultivator."
Old Deaf gave up hope. He didn't argue. He simply stood with his hands behind his back, hunched over by the lake, silent, unwilling to turn around and go home just yet.
I talk in roundabout ways, and you Liu Cha are not straightforward either—we're both adapting to local customs. Half-brothers in a way.
They stood in silence for a while. Liu Chao lifted his rod and asked casually, "Why not have Bai Jing lecture on the sword way?"
Old Deaf said helplessly: "How can you say she doesn't? Bai Jing is nominally the general boss and master craftswoman. She has earnestly given several talks. The problem is that both Bai Jing and the listeners are equally confused."
Liu Cha said, "I only walk one path—the killing sword. They can't learn it, and they don't need to."
Old Deaf, with his own realm and vision, recognized that Liu Cha wasn't just making excuses.
Liu Cha turned to look at Old Deaf, whose disappointment seemed genuine. Had this man become addicted to teaching?
Had Chen Ping'an fed him some delusion, or had they struck a deal?
For example, if Old Deaf trained a few Upper Five Realm disciples, could he learn a few sword techniques from Bai Jing or Xiao Mo?
Old Deaf guessed Liu Cha's thoughts, shook his head, and smiled: "Mr. Liu guessed wrong... but not entirely."
Liu Cha cast his line and frowned: "What bad habit—calling me by name directly."
Old Deaf had to change his address, calling him Liu Cha: "Unless one is on their deathbed, who would dare to truly pass on all their teachings to a disciple back home? Here, at least, there is no such wariness. Though in the marketplace there's a saying about teaching the apprentice starving the master, at least when I teach at Huaying Peak, as long as I sit on that round cushion, I teach for real. I'm not afraid of them learning everything; I'm afraid they learn too slowly or go down the wrong path."
Liu Cha made no comment.
Perhaps it was because chatting idly with a laid-back character like Liu Cha carried no burden. Old Deaf rubbed his chin and muttered to himself: "In youth I learned the art of the sword, killing bandits like cutting grass. Dismount to drink fine wine, on the battlefield a match for ten thousand. Hey, that's young Gantang I'm talking about."
Liu Cha couldn't help saying, "If you can't write poetry, don't force it."
Old Deaf looked embarrassed. He had just remembered that the rough, bearded man before him was the author of such majestic poems as "An ancient stream of water flows toward my palm" and "In a dense, forest-like aura, one thousand miles."
After a moment of awkwardness, Old Deaf's gaze grew distant: "A fleeting instant of wealth and honor, a half-lifetime of bumpy cultivation. In my youth, I also had a tragic and poignant love. Remember when I first met her—she was a hairpin-adorned lady sitting on a banana leaf, breathtakingly beautiful. I can't recall her face anymore, but her gentle and warm temperament is still engraved on my bones. Her smiles were soft and light, her tears never wailing. When she looked at people, things, and scenery, she was always so... Unfortunately, later on, when I was cultivating immortals and my early realm advancement was unprecedentedly fast, I set my mind solely on pursuing the Great Dao, abandoning thoughts of romantic love. I traveled constantly, passed ancient battlefields, mourned over mass graves where crows cawed in chaos, comprehended eternal life amid murderous energy and piles of bones. Finally, when I returned home one year, she was already nothing but a grave."
The attachments of love and desire in the hearts of accomplished Taoists are like knots.
Old Deaf's desire to trick Liu Cha into lecturing at Huaying Peak was undying. He hesitated and said, "Liu Cha, to be honest, asking you to come lecture there does have a selfish motive. I want to teach them a lesson beyond the books."
"That Liu Cha—even a Fourteen Realm sword cultivator could drop back to Flying Immortal realm. You who haven't even entered the Upper Five Realm—what right do you have to be so self-satisfied and complacent? You should cultivate diligently every day, treating your regular lessons as a battlefield of life and death."
Liu Cha gripped his fishing rod and took a deep breath.
Old Deaf was extremely nervous, afraid of angering Liu Cha, who might demand a sword duel over a disagreement. But he still said honestly, "I always treat people with sincerity."
Liu Cha rubbed his forehead. Old Deaf saw the situation was bad and was about to take his leave—if he didn't run now, he'd get struck by a sword.
Liu Cha said, "I won't go to Huaying Peak to lecture."
Old Deaf nodded. Understandable, understandable. Not getting stabbed was already a great mercy. How could he dare hope for more?
Liu Cha said, "They can come to Huanghu Mountain to learn swordsmanship."
Old Deaf's eyes lit up. He clapped his hands heavily: "That's how it should be, that's how it should be! When I get back to Huaying Peak, I'll set a rule: whether they come to learn swords or to seek the Dao at Huanghu Mountain, they cannot fly on swords, ride clouds, or use earth-shrinking techniques. They must travel back and forth on foot, so as to show a bit of their seeking-Dao resolve."
For the first time, Liu Cha turned to look at this sincere-eyed, grateful, overjoyed Old Deaf. He asked, "What are you after?"
Old Deaf also looked straight at Liu Cha for the first time. He smiled: "I'm not after anything."
If he had to say what he was after—probably like the old cook at Fallen Mountain said: if one can turn a thought around, the heavens are wide and the earth vast, and people are free. The mind gives birth to appearances—put on a fresh face.
---
Great Li capital.
Boat Colonel Zhou Gong led Yan You out of the Ministry of War office. It had only taken about the time of one tea to get everything done.
Besides Zhou Gong's appointment as the new commander of a Great Li sword boat—the hastily commissioned "Mizhou" sword boat—the general commanding it was only acting in the role. He was elderly and about to retire and return home. If the Grand Tutor hadn't ordered its emergency launch along with three other sword boats to patrol Vase Bottle Continent's mountains and rivers, that old general would likely never have had the chance to command a sword boat.
Additionally, Yan You now had an official post. As a Golden Body realm martial artist, he was joining the army with existing skills. According to Great Li border military regulations, Yan You was immediately awarded a military meritorious rank. Although it was the lowest of the eighteen ranks, the Cloud Captain, there was a world of difference between a Great Li military officer with or without such a rank.
Military merit ranks weren't directly tied to official grade. They were honorary titles. It was possible to have a high official rank but low military merit, or vice versa.
Yan You was deeply moved. The efficiency of Great Li officials was astonishing. He had only heard about it before, but today he experienced it firsthand.
Earlier, he had followed Colonel Zhou to the office. They reported their names, submitted documents, and were taken by a young official in a seventh-rank robe to see Right Vice Minister Wu Wangcheng directly. Zhou Gong explained the situation. Wu Wangcheng immediately had someone verify with the Ministry of Rites. Once complete, he obtained a sealed document from Ministry of Rites Vice Minister Dong Hu. Wu Wangcheng told them to wait, left the office, found Left Vice Minister Xu Tong, and summoned three of the main War Ministry appointment officials. When Vice Minister Wu returned to his room, he handed two documents to Zhou Gong. Copies were filed for record; the Ministry of Civil Office would conduct spot checks periodically.
With no pressing business today, Zhou Gong wasn't in a hurry to return to Mingdi Ferry. He led Yan You to visit an old comrade currently serving as a local magistrate in Jiayu County. Noticing Yan You's mood, Zhou Gong teased: "Your nerves have been wound tight all the way, barely daring to breathe. You weren't even this nervous when talking with Grand Tutor Chen earlier."
Yan You said awkwardly, "I can't figure it out myself."
Strangely enough, when he had foolishly gone to block the military ferry and loudly challenged the young Grand Tutor to a fist fight, Yan You hadn't been afraid.
But once inside the thousand-step corridor and the Ministry of War, especially when Colonel Zhou led him to meet that "Vice Minister Wu," Yan You was very nervous.
Great Li law: those with great service to the state receive nobility; those with accumulated minor merits on the battlefield are awarded ranks accordingly.
Zhou Gong laughed: "If you weren't a Golden Body realm martial artist—a minor grandmaster with martial fortune on your side—joining the battlefield would allow your comrades to benefit from intangible but real martial fortune. Otherwise, the Ministry of War would never have given you a Cloud Captain's military rank. So you weren't an exception—you followed the rules. I, on the other hand, was an exception by the Ministry of War. I was allowed to keep my sect registry status while being promoted to sword boat commander."
Yan You muttered under his breath: "The court really is mercenary."
With this official Ministry of War document, Yan You of the Golden Reed Mansion by Ziyan River now had Great Li official status and military rank. He was both Zhou Gong's personal bodyguard and could participate in military consultations.
Zhou Gong corrected him: "This is called being pragmatic."
Yan You didn't respond.
Zhou Gong said, "You may not feel this strongly now, but later you'll understand. Suppose Yan You dies one day in a mountain grudges. If the killer has killed a regular Great Li military officer, the court will pursue it to the end. If it's confirmed as a personal vendetta, the Ministry of Justice naturally won't convict, but the killer will have to think carefully: have they committed any evil deeds in this life? Because the Ministry of Justice will investigate their entire cultivation career and their ancestors for eighteen generations."
Yan You's face darkened: "Colonel Zhou, could you wish me well for once? If there's any grudge, I'm the one who'll come out alive, alright?"
Zhou Gong laughed heartily: "If you're that afraid of death, why become a military officer?"
Yan You was even more exasperated: "I didn't have a choice either. Back in the ancestor hall, Colonel Zhou, you sat grandly on that main chair. Everyone in our Golden Reed Mansion, including the ancestor, was extremely nervous. They were all waiting anxiously for me to nod so our sect could get an official post and put this messy account behind us."
"Colonel Zhou, you're a sharp person with a seven-jeweled skill. Surely you couldn't miss the looks in Ancestor Jinguan's eyes?"
"Let me tell you, when I became a Golden Body realm martial artist, the old ancestor only took me to the ancestor hall to burn incense, encouraged me with a few words, and bestowed one treasure. But when Colonel Zhou you held a trial in our ancestor hall, Ancestor Jinguan was practically eager to make me hold the ancestral tablets. If I had dared to say no, it would have been Yan You shaming all the past ancestors. What could I do? The Golden Reed Mansion has treated me well. And besides, this storm started because of me. Even if I had to join the army or walk through a sea of fire and mountain of blades, I couldn't frown."
Zhou Gong rubbed his chin: "That makes sense."
Yan You touched the sleeve hiding the official document: "Besides, the woman I love is watching me. How could I bear to make her sad?"
Zhou Gong laughed and asked, "Does she love Yan You the person, or your martial realm?"
Yan You didn't know how to answer.
Zhou Gong somewhat regretted asking. He said, "The court has allowed me to select some cultivation seedlings for the Snow Wind Temple's Great Ni Valley to take back to the mountains for training. The Ministry of War also allows you to bring a few like-minded fellow disciples into the border army. Of course, the Ministry will carefully verify their backgrounds. In any case, handle it yourself. Observe carefully and decide cautiously."
Yan You nodded, then asked curiously, "What is Colonel Zhou's military rank?"
Zhou Gong couldn't hide his pride: "Fifth rank: Zanniao Captain."
Apart from the six lower ranks, the middle and upper twelve ranks could only be awarded for military achievements. Even if you were the Minister or Vice Minister of War, without genuine battlefield achievements, you could at most get a Swift Cavalry Captain. Vice Minister Xu Tong was like that, and Minister Shen Chen as well. Only Wu Wangcheng, a genuine border military officer, had entered the capital's Ministry of War with a fourth-rank military rank.
Yan You pressed: "How did you get it?"
Zhou Gong said, "Back at the secondary capital battlefield, a heavy crossbow on our ferry boat skewered a severely wounded Jade Pool realm monster."
Zhou Gong's brows flew upward. He pointed with his arm, indicating: "From the head to the spine to the tail, a row of bolts pinned it dead on the battlefield. I did it myself—accurate!"
Then he restrained his smile. His eyes grew distant, and he said softly, "If the border troops hadn't fought to the death, our ferry boat wouldn't have had that lucky chance."
His mind was elsewhere, as if returning to that grand battlefield. On the earth, countless lives and deaths. Those who survived were haunted by it.
Zhou Gong muttered to himself, "Almost all the old border soldiers have gone to the Wildlands."
Yan You couldn't really understand those thoughts of Zhou Gong's.
Zhou Gong said, "The Grand Tutor carries a kind of killing aura."
Yan You asked doubtfully, "Why can't I sense it?"
Zhou Gong said, "That's why your challenge seemed like child's play to the Grand Tutor."
Yan You was still unconvinced on this point.
Zhou Gong laughed: "One day in the future, you're welcome to prove that I'm wrong, that the Grand Tutor is wrong. Do you dare?"
Yan You murmured, "What are you saying..."
If some people in the Northern Office felt disappointed in recent years and wanted to return home, thinking Great Li was no different from anywhere else, then Zhou Gong, after feeling deep disappointment, precisely because he was a millennia-old cultivation man, still chose to remain on that ferry boat, holding on to a little hope. He neither returned to Snow Wind Temple to be the second-in-command of the Discipline lineage nor went to local prefectures to be an official. But now, Zhou Gong and others like him all felt that tomorrow's Great Li Dynasty would surely be stronger.
At the very least, it was something to look forward to.
---
Amid the green hills and blue waters growing distant from home, one large and two small figures meandered along. The little boy in blue robes whispered slyly: "The mountain master said that for a martial artist walking the jianghu, you need a hero's heart. Little Millet, we're not martial artists. If we meet bandits who've turned to robbery and waylaying travelers, are we craven or not? Scared or not?!"
The little girl in black clothes shouted in her loud voice: "Craven and scared!"
"Just being scared won't help. Use that clever head of yours—what should we do?!"
"Run!"
Chen Lingjun rolled his eyes, hopped up, wiggled his bottom: "I wouldn't say a word—I'd just go up and give them a Dragon Tail Swing and teach them how to behave."
Zhong Qian, carrying a bundle, walked behind lazily: "Me? I'd thump to my knees and yell, 'Spare me, good sir!'"
Chen Lingjun put his hand to his mouth and whispered to the little girl: "See? I told you Zhong Number One isn't reliable. When trouble comes, watch me..."
Zhong Qian kicked the little boy in blue right on the bottom.
---
In the Lotus Root Blessed Land, the Qingqiu Fox Lord had personally seen the Fox Kingdom and felt reassured. She said she wanted to visit other places. Zhu Lian found some excuse not to travel with her. The Qingqiu Fox Lord gave a bewitching smile, didn't insist, and drifted away.
In the homeland's mountains and rivers, a small boat like a leaf encountered a sudden storm, emerging and submerging amid the wind and waves. There was no canopy or cabin to avoid it. The torrential rain poured down like waterfalls and mountain streams, crashing against shoulders and back. An old man in appearance, Zhu Lian sat silently at the bow for some reason, not using his thick true qi to block the rain. Alone, one man and one boat, they emerged and submerged in the wind and waves.
The Qingqiu Fox Lord actually concealed her tracks on the shore. She stood there for a long time, watching in a daze. Did he steer the boat like a spirit? Was he accepting the unavoidable and being at peace with it as fate?
---
At the Grand Tutor Residence, Chen Ping'an finished handling official business. While waiting for news from the Confucian Temple, he personally wrote a letter to consult Liu Qi about the matter of the Retain Person Realm.