Chapter 158: Eaten
The young girl had already begun to look forward to that day. Instead of fear, she was filled with a childlike anticipation, waiting for her little uncle to step onto his flying sword, *shuo*—like that—come from the ends of the earth to land beside her, and tell everyone he was her little uncle.
As for the murderous schemes and dangers that day might bring, Li Baoping didn't think much about them. After all, no matter how precocious the girl was, she couldn't imagine the evil of human hearts that books never described. Even if she racked her little head, she couldn't fathom those undercurrents, the cold-blooded killing intent hidden behind tall hats and flowing robes.
She was an inexperienced young girl who simply chose to trust someone wholeheartedly.
The old scholar, who had been sleeping soundly on the youth's back, had probably chosen to reveal the secrets of heaven precisely because he cherished this rare and innocent guilelessness.
Li Baoping said softly, "Little uncle, if you can't argue them down when the time comes, and you can't beat them in a fight, we can always run away."
Chen Ping'an laughed. "Of course, just don't think it's too embarrassing."
After that, Chen Ping'an took Li Baoping to browse a few general stores. He bought brand-new boots for all three children but didn't buy any for himself. It wasn't that he was stingy to that extent; he simply wasn't used to wearing them. When he tried them on, he felt completely uncomfortable, as if he couldn't even walk anymore.
Besides the boots, he also bought two sets of new clothes for each of them. Money flowed like water, and Chen Ping'an would be lying if he said he didn't feel a twinge of pain, but the money had to be spent.
Li Baoping still chose bright red clothes. It wasn't just because they looked festive. Chen Ping'an had heard the girl complain long ago: apparently, when she was little, a wandering Daoist passed through Fulu Street and calculated the fates of the three Li brothers. When he read Li Baoping's fortune, he mentioned that it would be best for the girl to wear red clothes in the future to ward off evil spirits. The Li family, no matter how much they doted on their youngest daughter, never budged on this matter. Although Li Baoping grew more frustrated as she got older, she still complied. The last time at the Red Candle Town courier station, she received three letters from home. Without exception, from her father to her two brothers, Li Xisheng and Li Baozhen, they all reminded the girl never to change to clothes of other colors just to try something new.
The girl often said to Chen Ping'an in private that when she met that stinky Daoist again, she was definitely going to give him a beating.
While browsing the stores, the old scholar was still dead drunk, so Chen Ping'an had to carry him on his back the whole time. Fortunately, he wasn't heavy—probably less than a hundred jin. Chen Ping'an really couldn't figure out how such an old gentleman could hold so much knowledge in his belly.
On the way back to the Autumn Reed Inn, Li Baoping's book chest was packed full. Having walked thousands of li along this journey, the girl had grown noticeably darker and thinner, but she was sturdy, full of strength and energy. Chen Ping'an wasn't worried that this weight would harm her.
When they reached Flowing Clouds and Running Waters Lane, the scene was as misty and wondrous as ever. Chen Ping'an had seen it many times, but he still found it incredible. The blind old Daoist had given him a painting of "Searching the Mountains" before they parted, which depicted all sorts of strange spirits and monsters, but it wasn't as shocking as actually being here.
When they reached the inn's entrance, which was flanked by two tall, painted guardian deities, the old man suddenly woke up. The moment his feet touched the ground, his traveling bag reappeared on his back, and he held a silver ingot in his hand. Looking at the two bewildered faces, the old scholar chuckled. "No feast lasts forever. I still have many places to go, and I need to keep heading westward. I can't delay here any longer."
The old man spoke slowly. "Chen Ping'an, as for that half Cui Chan, good and evil have been divided—though not completely, it's generally clear. From now on, I'm leaving him to you. Lead by example, and let actions speak louder than words. That's also why I placed him by your side."
Li Baoping frowned. "That guy named Cui Chan is a big villain. Literary Sage, why do you always protect him?"
"There's no helping it."
The old scholar sighed with a hint of resignation, patiently explaining with a smile. "I've already lifted the restrictions on him. If you think he still deserves to be killed next time, then don't worry about what an old fool like me thinks. Do what needs to be done. The reason I'm so partial and lenient with him is, first, that his straying from the path is mostly due to my faulty teaching back then. I shouldn't have dismissed him so categorically, causing him to misunderstand that I'd made a hasty judgment."
The old man looked weary, his voice low. "Besides, at the time I really didn't have the attention to spare. I had a fight I absolutely had to win, so I didn't have time to explain the reasons to him properly or help him work things out step by step. So what happened next? In a huff, the boy simply left the sect, leaving behind a huge mess. Ma Zhan was one of them. Furthermore, as for the new path he chose, if he can walk each step steadily, it might well benefit the world for a hundred or even a thousand years. It might even add another incense offering to the legacy of our Confucian tradition... These messy accounts, both of great eternal achievements and petty nonsense, you might encounter them too when you have the chance to stand high and look far in the future. When you do, don't be like me. Think more, don't rush to decisions. Be patient, especially with those around you. Don't let the lamp darken under itself, or you'll be very sad."
Saying this, the old man's withered, thin hand patted Chen Ping'an's head and then rubbed Li Baoping's little head. "You two, don't be in such a hurry to grow up. Once you really grow up, the things you can't control will only increase. Friends seldom stay by your side forever. Clothes and boots are best when new, but friends are best when old. Yet when they grow old, they'll reach the day they die of old age."
Li Baoping asked, "Lin Shouyi said that mountain immortals like Qi Practitioners, if they achieve cultivation, can live a hundred or even a thousand years!"
The old man smiled. "And what about after a hundred years, after a thousand years?"
Li Baoping ventured, "Then I'll go first?"
The old man was amused by the girl's childlike innocence and chuckled. "If you put it that way, Little Baoping, if a truly outstanding good girl like you were no longer in this world, how sad would your friends be? I, at least, would weep bitterly, and I wouldn't even be able to drink my wine."
Li Baoping suddenly understood and nodded vigorously. "You're right, you're right! No one can die!"
The old scholar held out the silver ingot. Chen Ping'an looked at it and asked, "It's not counterfeit silver, is it? Cui Chan had one."
The old man shook his head with a laugh. "That little trinket? Only the young Cui Chan would be interested in it, thinking it amusing. The older Cui Chan wouldn't spare it a glance. This thing that looks like a silver ingot is actually a sword embryo without an owner. Compared to the one Cui Chan hid in his spatial treasure, its grade is much higher. More importantly, it has deep connections. If you ever have the chance to go to the Central Continent Divine Land in the future, you must take it to Sui Mountain. You might even get to taste some fine wine from a certain someone. Sui Mountain's flower fruit brew is unparalleled in the world!"
The old man gave a thumbs-up. "Even immortals would get drunk on it."
Chen Ping'an accepted the silver ingot.
The old man teased, "Oh, you didn't want to be my disciple earlier. I talked until my lips were worn out and you still wouldn't agree. Now you're taking it?"
Chen Ping'an said awkwardly, "I felt that rejecting your kindness again would hurt our feelings."
Li Baoping whispered, "Literary Sage, it's because this thing looks like silver. How could little uncle not like it?"
Chen Ping'an flicked her head.
Li Baoping clutched her head and dared not say another word.
The old man laughed heartily. "Little Baoping, next time we meet, don't call me Literary Sage. You're Qi Jingchun's disciple, and I'm Qi Jingchun's teacher. What should you call me?"
Li Baoping was stunned for a moment. "Grandmaster? Grand-teacher?"
The old man nodded with a smile. "That's right. Either one works. Use whichever you like."
The girl quickly bowed with a deep bend, but forgot she was still carrying a heavy book chest. Off balance, she nearly fell flat on her face. Chen Ping'an quickly helped by lifting the small chest.
The old man straightened his back, standing still, and accepted the gesture of respect.
The old scholar adjusted the bag on his back and sighed. "The sword embryo is called 'Little Fengdu.' Keep it safely. All the karmic ties on it have been severed completely. As for how to control and use it, it's simple: be sincere. The boat will reach the bridge when it gets there. It will recognize its owner on its own. If you're not sincere, even if you hold it for ten thousand years, it won't awaken—it will be worse than a piece of scrap metal."
Chen Ping'an carefully put it away.
The old scholar nodded. "I'm off."
The old man turned and left.
Li Baoping called out in confusion, "Grand-teacher?"
The old man turned back. "What is it?"
The girl pointed to the sky. "Grand-teacher, you said you have a long way to go. Why don't you *shuo*—like that—and disappear?"
The old scholar couldn't help but smile. He nodded, and indeed, with a *shuo*, he vanished.
Chen Ping'an and Li Baoping both looked up at the sky, but the old man was already gone.
But in fact, at the end of Flowing Clouds and Running Waters Lane near the street, an old scholar turned to look back toward the Autumn Reed Inn entrance and slowly walked away.
——
Back in the courtyard, the tall woman sat on a stone bench, gazing up at the sky, a gentle smile at the corners of her lips.
In the same courtyard, right next to them, Yu Lu and Xie Xie were completely unaware of the Sword Spirit's existence from beginning to end. Whenever she appeared, she would isolate the flow of qi between them, making it so the young boy and girl couldn't see or hear her, unable to perceive her at all.
Li Baoping said her greetings and went inside to put away her things. Chen Ping'an sat beside the Sword Spirit.
The tall woman reached out horizontally, and in her hand appeared the old sword blade that had hung beneath the bridge for countless years. She got straight to the point. "Since things have changed, I'll make some adjustments too. We originally had a hundred-year agreement, which still stands. But I'll accelerate the process of tempering this sword blade now. Within sixty years, I aim to restore it to seventy or eighty percent of its original form. That means your Dragon-Slaying Platform won't be enough—far from enough."
Chen Ping'an was baffled. The small Dragon-Slaying Platform that had suddenly appeared in his own courtyard had been carried by him to the blacksmith's shop.
She smiled faintly. "Do you remember that time you were sitting on the bridge dreaming and fell into the creek with your basket? That time, I actually took the Dragon-Slaying Platform. The stone you thought was the Dragon-Slaying Platform afterward was just an ordinary stone I used as an illusion. 'Ordinary' isn't quite accurate—it was a top-quality gallstone, enough to turn a little crawler into a... big crawler? To reduce a hundred years to sixty, the price is that I need to use at least the large Dragon-Slaying Platform deep in the mountains. Maybe not the entire stone cliff, but at least most of it. But don't worry, I have my ways to hide this from heaven. If worst comes to worst, I'll just toss a few secret manuals to those Military Strategist cultivators from Snow Wind Temple's True Martial Mountain. Not only won't they think it's a bad deal, they might even weep for joy and hug each other in tears."
Chen Ping'an listened as if hearing a heavenly book, dumbfounded, unable to speak.
She stretched out her hand to the sky, and in her palm appeared the graceful white lotus leaf. "Because of that sour scholar, and the unusual nature of your sword strike, the lotus leaf won't hold up much longer. That's another reason I'm in a hurry to go back. Also, the scholar promised me that Cui Chan's affairs wouldn't implicate his master. He'll first go to the Yingyin Chen Clan to discuss matters, then head west. So, as he said, just focus on taking the children to study. With that scoundrel Cui Chan and Yu Lu, a martial artist at the sixth realm, as protection, even if you lose your sword energy, I believe you can turn misfortune into good fortune."
A trace of worry appeared in her brow. "But after you reach the Great Sui Academy, I'll need to confine myself for the next sixty years. I can't leave easily, or all my efforts might be wasted. You need to ensure you don't die and that your realm continues to grow. It will be a bit troublesome."
Chen Ping'an said, "A Liang once mentioned offhandedly that whether you're a martial artist or a Qi Practitioner, once you reach the third realm, you can try traveling alone through a country. If you don't seek death, it's usually fine. At the fifth or sixth realm, you can traverse half a continent's territory, provided you don't meddle in trouble, don't go to notorious lakes and dangerous places, and don't get hot-headed, thinking you can always be a chivalrous hero and slay demons. Then you'll mostly be safe. If you meet a sudden calamity and die, you can only blame your bad luck. With such terrible fate, staying home wouldn't be safe either. So whether you go out or not, the result is roughly the same."
She nodded with satisfaction. "I'm glad you think that way. That's right. If you're timid and hesitant, you'll never achieve anything in cultivation."
Suddenly, she squinted with a playful look. "Why is it that now, when I'm about to leave, you still haven't asked me how I'll help you extend your life and solve the aftermath? Since we share weal and woe, aren't you curious why I'm not repairing your Bridge of Longevity so you can smoothly walk the path of cultivation? Logically, this isn't an unreasonable request, is it?"
Chen Ping'an admitted honestly, "Last night before sleeping, I wanted to get up and ask these questions, but I held back."
The Sword Spirit asked, "Why?"
Chen Ping'an said seriously, "It's not that I'm too embarrassed to ask. For something as big as living, my face isn't that thin. But I've always believed in Old Yao—the half-master who taught me ceramics. I believe in a saying of his..."
The Sword Spirit interrupted the youth's words, nodding. "I know. In that span of flowing time you showed, I saw and heard it. A very interesting saying."
Then she seemed a bit annoyed, stood up while holding the lotus-leaf umbrella, and said, "Do you know why your human world has a concept called 'breaking the face'? It's a real thing, but for ordinary people, breaking the face is already within the logic of fate. Even changing a name is within the great rules, so it doesn't matter. But if it involves the Bridge of Longevity or changes to various energy apertures within the body, that becomes a major affair."
"Cultivation itself is a countercurrent act. To put it bluntly, it's defying the Heavenly Way. What Qi Practitioners call 'proving the Dao' is actually proving their own Great Dao, making the Heavenly Way bow its head. Heaven wants me to be born, age, get sick, and die; I insist on cultivating an immaculate golden body, prolonging life, and enjoying eternal freedom. I want the Old Man in Heaven to grit his teeth and admit my long-lasting existence. Think about how difficult that is."
"If building the Bridge of Longevity were easy, those immortal families on the mountains could have their ancestors just wave their hands and make every descendant an immortal, wouldn't they? Because human meridians, energy apertures, and bloodlines are the most profound things under heaven. The Daoist school advocates 'two heavens, inner and outer, great and small.' This 'small heaven' refers to the human body. Besides implying it's a natural cave heaven and blessed land, the Bridge of Longevity's significance is connecting these two heavens. So this matter is as hard as reaching the sky. Not that no one can do it, but the price is huge, and the requirements for the one building the road and bridge are extremely high. It's limited to great Qi Practitioners of schools like the School of Yin-Yang and the Medical School. That's one reason these schools, though not skilled in combat, still stand firm."
Seeing the disappointment in the youth's eyes, but not discouragement, the Sword Spirit felt relieved and teased, "For now, Little Peace, you should first temper your body and lay a solid foundation. That's definitely good. Otherwise, later, when I've polished the sword blade, if you can't even lift the sword, that would be too embarrassing. Don't think lifting a sword is simple. In that sour scholar's scroll painting, he gave you the 'illusion' of a tenth-realm cultivator. The physique of an ordinary ninth-realm cultivator might not compare to a fifth- or sixth-realm pure martial artist, but a tenth-realm cultivator aiming to break through the threshold is never stupid enough to neglect body tempering. Most will work even harder than pure martial artists in that realm, polishing their body and spirit bit by bit, allowing no flaws or loopholes. That's how the interesting situation came about: all tenth-realm Qi Practitioners are old turtles at the bottom of the water."
Chen Ping'an memorized all these words.
The woman in white stood in the courtyard and said, "Little Peace, you must wait for me for sixty years. And don't turn into a white-haired old man by then—it would spoil the mood. I might not recognize you as my master."
Chen Ping'an stood up and was about to speak.
She walked toward him and reached out her hand, making a gesture for a high-five.
Chen Ping'an quickly raised his hand high.
But their palms missed in midair.
The woman in white had already dissipated and left.
Chen Ping'an sat back down, then suddenly slapped his forehead. He had forgotten to ask her and the Literary Sage about the locust-wood sword—about the little girl in golden clothes hiding inside!
——
Cui Chan was drinking tea in a secret room at the Autumn Reed Inn. The inn's second mistress, Liu Jiahui, renowned in the prefectural city as Lady Liu, was like a humble maidservant, carefully observing the man who had revealed himself as the Grand Scholar of Great Li.
Her Purple Sun Sect had long been a pawn of Great Li, drawn from Huangting Kingdom. This alliance had been personally approved by the rarely seen founding patriarch. Everyone in the Purple Sun Sect naturally dared not be careless. Especially someone like Liu Jiahui, who considered herself with no hope for the Great Dao, paid extra attention to symbols of secular power like the imperial court.
Although the Huangting Kingdom's Hong Emperor had always followed ancestral traditions favoring immortals, a small kingdom like Huangting could make the deeply connected Lingyun Sect loyal, but couldn't force sects like the Purple Sun Sect to pledge allegiance. The pond was too small; the dragons at the bottom wanted a larger territory.
Compared to the Crouching Dragon Temple, which only wanted a single character 'palace,' the Purple Sun Sect was more ambitious.
Liu Jiahui wasn't foolish enough to believe the handsome young man with a mole on his forehead just because he announced himself. The only reason she considered it was that the green-robed man standing beside him acted more like a servant than she would.
Liu Jiahui couldn't think of anyone in Huangting Kingdom who could make the ruthless and merciless Water God of Cold Food River willingly serve as a servant.
After casually asking about the internal situation of the Purple Sun Sect, Cui Chan suddenly asked with a smile, "Prefect Wei Li is your lover, isn't he, Lady Liu? He'll likely become a stumbling block for Great Li in the future. If I asked you to kill him with your own hands today, would you be willing?"
Liu Jiahui's mind went blank, her body tense.
Cui Chan chortled. "Look how scared you are. Am I the type to separate loving couples?"
Liu Jiahui raised her eyes slightly.
The young man in white nodded to himself with a smirk. "Yes, I am exactly that type."
Liu Jiahui was about to cry from frustration, her face pale.
The young man waved his hand, "benevolently" saying, "But asking you to kill him yourself is too cruel. Besides, since the Purple Sun Sect is now allied with Great Li, I won't make things difficult for you, who have worked hard to manage this estate. This Water God Lord behind me doesn't have a very good relationship with Prefect Wei anyway. Let him do the killing."
Liu Jiahui struggled to hold back the tears welling in her eyes, lowered her head, and said in a trembling voice, "Grand Scholar, if Wei Li really must die, I will do it myself! There's no need for the Water God Lord to act."
Cui Chan sighed as if pityingly and muttered, "If you do that, Lady Liu will surely harbor resentment against me and Great Li. How about this: after you kill your lover, I'll have the Water God Lord kill you. At least you can be a pair of mandarin ducks in death..."
The charming woman lifted her head, her peach-blossom eyes full of a murderous intent ready to destroy everything together.
The green-robed man took a small step forward and let out a light snort.
Liu Jiahui was like an ant overestimating itself in his eyes.
The woman suddenly snapped back to reality and retreated several steps.
Sitting cross-legged on the chair, Cui Chan pinched the teacup lid and gently fanned the tea steam. The fragrance was refreshing. He closed his eyes, intoxicated, sniffing it, then slowly opened his eyes, staring at the woman engaged in an inner battle. Cui Chan smiled and clicked his tongue. "All beings suffer, and love is the deepest. For the sake of this good tea, I'll spare Wei Li. Really, I'm not lying."
The woman softened and nearly collapsed. Gathering the last of her courage, she sobbed timidly, "Grand Scholar, are you really not deceiving your servant?"
Cui Chan couldn't help but laugh. "What fun would it be to deceive you?"
Liu Jiahui naturally didn't dare take it as true. A woman who was originally very sharp now looked utterly shattered.
Cui Chan said impatiently, "Alright, get out. From now on, keep a close eye on Wei Li. Don't let him do anything irredeemably stupid. Whether you become a titled lady of Great Li or Wei Li rises through the officialdom, it all depends on your abilities, Liu Jiahui."
This, Liu Jiahui understood. She couldn't keep up with the Grand Scholar's freewheeling thoughts. Fear had penetrated to her bones.
Not just fear of an unpredictable, seemingly frail young man—but fear of the invincible Great Li army, of the Grand Scholar who stood above ten thousand.
Thinking of their first friendly meeting, she felt it was a huge joke. And she had taken his two thousand taels of silver without a second thought.
That was probably the hottest silver under heaven.
Seeing her still standing there stunned, Cui Chan said coldly, "Get out."
The woman quickly excused herself.
After she left the secret room, the green-robed man asked, "Grand Scholar, are we really not killing Wei Li?"
Cui Chan gave a wicked grin. "Guess?"
The green-robed man was a bit baffled. "I really can't guess the Grand Scholar's thoughts. I'll just follow orders."
Cui Chan slurped a large mouthful of tea, then covered the cup and set it on the table, revealing the truth unhurriedly. "We won't kill him. Wei Li and the river god under your command are talents I intend to employ in Great Li's future."
This time, the green-robed man was genuinely caught off guard.
Employ Wei Li? Why? A mere fourth-rank local official from Huangting Kingdom with no family background—could he catch the eye of the Grand Scholar of Great Li?
Cui Chan ignored the puzzled Water God of Cold Food River and tapped the table with one finger. "Next, it's almost the autumn harvest. Using your old tricks, let some incidents happen in this prefecture. Create some miserable, heart-wrenching scenes. When public anger is about to boil over, give Liu Jiahui a chance to send word to Wei Li. Tell him you, the Water God Lord, are willing to help him fix those problems. He'll be suspicious, but that's fine. Just pretend to ask him for money. Demand that he request a plaque from the Ministry of Rites. That way, even if he still has doubts, for the sake of the people in his jurisdiction, he'll agree tremblingly. Then, until the Great Li army is about to march south, keep teasing Wei Li like this. When our army arrives at the city gates, at the critical moment when Wei Li is ready to die defending the prefectural city, you can spread rumors: say Wei Li has colluded with your Great Water Mansion, deliberately building a reputation to reach his high position step by step. Then I'll see how many of the nearly two hundred thousand people in the prefecture curse Wei Li as worse than a beast, and how many close to him still dare trust him."
The green-robed man asked carefully, "Is this...?"
Cui Chan rolled his eyes. "Can't you see? I want Wei Li to suffer a fate worse than death. Not to flatter you, but you're not much smarter than Liu Jiahui."
The dignified Water God of Cold Food River humbly sought instruction like a beginner schoolboy. "I beg the Grand Scholar to enlighten me."
Cui Chan lazily curled up in the chair. "Real scholars—what do you think they can't bear the most? It's not getting an official post only to meet a tyrannical ruler, having to speak out for the country and people, remonstrating unto death, and then getting beheaded. Because that clears their conscience, and they might even leave a name in history. It's not even watching the country shatter and being unable to save it, watching the homeland fall to ruin. Because even then, they could escape into Zen or write poems of grief—'the nation's misfortune is the poet's fortune.' The truly unbearable thing is..."
The young man in white shook his head. "It's when scholars like Wei Li—true Confucians—enter the world for the sake of so-called peace, struggling in officialdom, covered in wounds, but in the end, they've given the world their greatest effort and kindness, yet receive not equivalent kindness but a flood of malice. What they truly want—not a bit, not a trace—they never get. Their family and friends abandon them. It seems they have let down the country and people, but in truth, everyone has let them down too. Hmm, I want Wei Li to taste that flavor."
The green-robed man sighed. "Putting myself in his shoes, that is indeed worse than death."
He quickly thought of the woman deeply in love. "If Wei Li knew about today's conversation in this secret room, he would probably hope that Liu Jiahui had agreed to kill him herself today."
Cui Chan covered the teacup with his hand, expressionless. "After Wei Li is in complete despair, at an appropriate time, I'll let him know. Because by then, Liu Jiahui will have 'committed suicide,' leaving a suicide note revealing all the truth: that she was a guest of the Great Water Mansion, a spy for Great Li, saying she is sorry, that she let him down, and finally... probably that she loved him dearly."
At that moment, the mountain-and-river orthodox deity nearly had his hair stand on end, a chill rising in his heart.
"Wei Li is a good seedling. He might become one of my proud disciples in the future. So don't just watch the show. If he's really determined to kill himself, you must stop him."
Cui Chan laughed as he stood up, turning to look at the stiff-faced Water God. "And why are you afraid? You have a good father."
Hearing this, the green-robed man's emotions were complex.
Cui Chan stood on tiptoes, reached up to pat his shoulder, and said with a "comforting" smile. "Deep down, you have murderous intent. You might not even know it yourself. But it doesn't matter. To me, you and your father are just slightly larger ants. Your joys, sorrows, hatreds, and respects—when I'm in a good mood, I'll take care of them, soothe them. When I'm in a bad mood... remember the ancient Shu Kingdom? There was a rare kind of flood dragon with a nature for cannibalism. I would..."
A strange golden color suddenly appeared in the handsome youth's eyes, vertical in his pupils. He whispered in a low, innocent voice, adding, "Eat you."
The green-robed man stood motionless, but his Adam's apple moved. This time, he was truly drenched in sweat.
Cui Chan lowered his heels back to the ground and said with a smile, "Look how scared you are. Go back to your Great Water Mansion. From now on, you and Wei Li are both honored guests of Great Li, top new nobles. Don't be afraid."
The green-robed man didn't move a step, didn't speak, just stood there firmly. Earlier, Liu Jiahui had been "treated" to a "Look how scared you are" and seemed to escape unscathed—but had she really?
Now he heard, "Look how scared you are." Just one word difference, no different?
Cui Chan pretended to realize and apologized. "This time, you're really overthinking."
The green-robed man only raised his arm to wipe the cold sweat off his forehead.
Cui Chan thought for a moment, turned to pick up the teacup, drank the last of the tea, pondered briefly, set the cup down, and said softly, "In the future, if you can succeed in 'eating that half' with the help of me and your father, tightly binding yourself to Great Li's national destiny, you can rest assured. You should know that in this matter, which is almost greater than the Great Dao, your father doesn't have the natural advantage you have. Neither do I. Only then will you qualify to truly sit on an equal footing with me."
The green-robed man was stunned, then bowed with cupped fists, his eyes burning hot, saying nothing—everything was understood without words.
Cui Chan waved his hand. "Get out."
The green-robed man felt as if pardoned and even pleasantly surprised. He transformed into a faint cyan water mist and vanished with a whoosh.
Cui Chan clasped his hands behind his back, closed his eyes, and paced in circles in the spacious, lavish secret room.
Finally, Cui Chan raised his head, staring straight at a wall, as if looking far into the distance. "Old man, finally gone."
Cui Chan squinted with a smile and strode out of the secret room.
——
When Cui Chan tiptoed back into the courtyard, there was a hint of smugness in his brows.
Without cultivation, so what? Wasn't he still playing those fools like puppets?
Inside, Chen Ping'an was consulting Li Baoping about the construction of wealthy people's graves—what the customs were.
Because Chen Ping'an had always wanted, once he had money, to build the best possible tomb for his parents, who had not even a grave marker.
Now that they were close to Great Sui, it meant he would soon return home. The first thing would definitely be this.
Although Chen Ping'an every time he went into or out of the mountains would bring a handful of soil to add to his parents' graves—a tradition passed down from the old ceramic masters—that ritual of "thickening the earth" couldn't compare in peace of mind to building a proper grave. This long journey had taught Chen Ping'an many things he hadn't known before, such as the saying "serve the dead as if alive," which made him even more guilty.
Li Baoping didn't know much, she gave a general idea and said she would write to her eldest brother later for details.
Chen Ping'an didn't press further. As long as he had money in his pocket, everything could be arranged. The previous huge problems no longer seemed significant.
Chen Ping'an happened to think of something and asked the girl how to write the character "瀺" in Cui Chan's name.
Li Baoping knew it. She used her finger to write it stroke by stroke on the stone table.
Chen Ping'an casually remarked, "Such a hard character to write."
Not far behind him, this time it was Cui Chan's turn to sweat profusely. He had just done a little bad thing—was this karma coming too fast?
Hadn't the old scholar just rolled out? Was Chen Ping'an, this even more ruthless bastard, already starting to plan to spend money on his grave and write his epitaph?
Chen Ping'an turned his head and saw the stunned white-clothed youth standing there.
Cui Chan turned and ran, frantically finding the terrified Liu Jiahui, pulling her to a secluded spot, and saying as kindly as possible, "Lady Liu, I've just figured out a truth: we must be kind to others! As long as you are loyal to Great Li, I guarantee you and Wei Li will be happy, with children and grandchildren filling the halls!"
Cui Chan then turned contentedly and left, waving his hand without looking at the woman who collapsed to her knees in fright. He muttered, "Believe it or not! Damn it, they delight in lies but don't believe the truth. Anyway, you and Wei Li have hit the jackpot this time. Go ahead and love each other fiercely! I wish you both a long life together!"
Cui Chan slunk back to the courtyard and saw that heartless Chen Ping'an sitting alone on a stone bench, sharpening the blade of his Auspicious Talisman on the Dragon-Slaying Platform.
Cui Chan turned pale, muttering, "What, you want me to spare the Great Water Mansion too? That's too much. No, that's impossible no matter what. Things done on a whim can depend on mood, but when it comes to Great Li's hegemony, how can I change my intentions and plan..."
Chen Ping'an turned and frowned. "You've been sneaking around outside twice now. What are you doing?"
Cui Chan pointed at the narrow knife in Chen Ping'an's hand. "What are you doing? Sharpening a blade, so ominous."
Chen Ping'an said impatiently, "As long as you behave from now on, we'll stay out of each other's way."
If a person like himself said such words, Cui Chan would never believe them. But coming from Chen Ping'an's mouth, Cui Chan naturally believed deeply. Still, his steps were a bit unsteady at first, but then he walked faster and faster, lighter, finally trotting to the stone table, leaning on it, and lowering his voice, "Teacher, I just did a good deed of making a match. Absolutely true! Do you believe me?"
Chen Ping'an looked up, looked the guy in the eye seriously, and finally nodded.
At this moment, Cui Chan was almost moved to tears.
It was clear how calamitous this trip out of seclusion had been for young Cui Chan.
Cui Chan flattered, "Teacher, how about I sharpen the knife for you? As your disciple, if I'm always idle and useless, I won't be able to sleep or eat in peace."
Chen Ping'an glanced at him. "Get lost."
Cui Chan pretended to sigh heavily, straightened up, made a respectful bow, then turned and swaggered back to his room, whistling cheerfully.
Chen Ping'an watched the guy's elegant back, somewhat baffled. Had he soaked too long in that well and gotten water in his brain?
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