Chapter 164: Those Who Touch Vermilion Are Stained Red
The pink-skirted little girl clutched a big armful of ancient books as she ran out of the pavilion. When she saw this scene, her eyes turned fearful when she looked at Chen Ping'an.
At the same time, a green-clad little boy fell from the sky, his clothes tattered and looking utterly disheveled. Beside him, a gleam of golden light flickered unsteadily, like a fierce soldier escorting a prisoner.
The green-clad little boy lay on the ground gasping for breath. He wiped the blood from his face and turned to look at that "river-crossing dragon" whose origins were unclear. The murderous intent in his eyes was hard to dispel. This was not surprising—after acting tyrannically in the great river outside the city for several hundred years, suddenly being beaten into a stray dog was naturally infuriating.
Cui Chan snapped his fingers, and the golden light returned like a swallow to its nest, flying back into his sleeve.
Seeing Chen Ping'an's confusion, Cui Chan smiled and said, "Master, do you remember outside Savage Pass, how I boasted to you about the richness of my apprenticeship gift? I mentioned this unowned lifebound flying sword, named 'Golden Autumn.' Its quality is not ordinary. It can be wielded even without a high realm, and it moves as you will."
Cui Chan grinned, quite pleased with himself. "The previous owner of this flying sword was a true sword immortal from the Central Continent, a chess fanatic. Probably had his head caught in a door, he actually wanted to change paths, switching from sword cultivation to the Way of Chess. But unfortunately his chess skills were poor. He gambled his life against me in a match, and I won this flying sword. However, to put it bluntly, he also wanted to burn his bridges and have no lingering attachments to this sword."
Chen Ping'an asked curiously, "Then could Lin Shouyi use this 'Golden Autumn'?"
Cui Chan winced as if with a toothache. "Master, you can't be so biased. Lin Shouyi could certainly use it, but for him to refine and control it would definitely be a waste of a heavenly gift. I'm willing to give it to you, Master, but I absolutely refuse to give it to an outsider like Lin Shouyi."
The pink-skirted little girl and the green-clad little boy exchanged a knowing glance, seeing shock in each other's eyes.
Central Continent. Sword immortal. Chess. Gambling life.
These words strung together were enough to be earth-shattering.
Chen Ping'an looked around, saw nothing unusual, and prepared to leave and continue on his way.
"Master, wait a moment. Let me first make the reasoning clear, so that your journey home won't encounter unnecessary trouble." Cui Chan thought for a moment, then took out the inkstone that had originally been the treasure of Fuluo Temple, and ordered the fire python and water serpent of the Huangting Kingdom: "Quickly put your true bodies into this. My patience is not good, and my rule is 'things don't pass twice.' If you delay again, don't blame me..."
Before he had even finished speaking a few words, Cui Chan's killing intent surged. He simply wanted to slap the green-clad little boy to death, to have him out of sight and out of mind. After all, according to the plans in Longquan County, being able to establish a relationship with that old flood dragon was sufficient. These fire python and water serpent had low cultivation and hadn't even completed their dragon transformation. They were far inferior to the Cold Food River water god of the Great Water Manor. In the end, catching them was just a small bonus to embellish the victory. Originally, since the treasury in his possession now couldn't be opened, he wanted to subdue these two little fellows for "his own master." Even if they weren't very useful, they could be kept around to help guard the mountain. With their special origins from the Pear Blossom Cave Heaven, it barely worked.
So Cui Chan really didn't care whether they lived or died. Now that the master was truly the master and the student was truly the student, Cui Chan was extremely clear about Chen Ping'an's personality—like a stone in a latrine, both hard and stubborn. If he didn't acknowledge you, even ten thousand fire pythons and water serpents would be useless. Now that he did acknowledge you, losing two insignificant little creatures wouldn't matter at all.
Thinking of this, Cui Chan felt a mix of emotions. Dealing with Chen Ping'an was truly exhausting, even more tiring than moving the Five Sacred Mountains. But after he had crossed the invisible threshold of scheming, he felt a very strange sensation—one that could make someone as calculating as the Great Li state preceptor feel some... peace of mind.
Seeing the golden light flowing from the white-clad youth's sleeve, the green-clad little boy quickly stood up, knelt, and kowtowed. "I beg the immortal master to spare my life. I am willing to go through fire and water for the immortals, to dash my brains out, and to die without regret!"
The pink-skirted little girl, who had read thousands of books in the Zhilan Mansion's library building, felt somewhat ashamed to be associated with him. She was not the type to speak rashly, and she stuttered nervously, not knowing what to do.
Cui Chan couldn't be bothered to waste words with the water serpent whelp. He raised the inkstone. "I'll count to three."
The pink-skirted little girl hesitated briefly, then a thin, thread-like flame python shot out from between her eyebrows and flew into the inkstone. Her face turned deathly pale, and her body swayed as if about to fall.
Seeing this, the green-clad little boy could only sigh in an old-fashioned manner, muttering "Oh well, oh well, a wise man submits to circumstances." Then from his seven orifices, smoke billowed out, eventually coalescing into a dark green serpent slightly thicker than the flame python, which flew into the inkstone. The python and serpent curled up inside the inkstone, not daring to move at all.
After all, on the edge of the inkstone lay an old flood dragon coiled in slumber—that was the patriarch of their kind, perhaps even eighteen generations removed.
Cui Chan put away the inkstone that had been sent halfway by the Great Li death warriors, and sneered, "Don't be ungrateful. You've only been slightly restrained, and through this you can hone your realms. If it were dragon-kind monsters from other regions, and they had such an opportunity placed before them, they would be begging on their knees until their heads were bloodied."
The pink-skirted little girl, who had grown up in the confines of the library building, bowed in thanks.
The green-clad little boy, who had always been carefree and wild by nature, curled his lips in disdain.
Cui Chan pretended not to see this, and said with a playful smile, "You know Longquan County in Great Li, right? That place where the Pear Blossom Cave Heaven shattered and fell. My master is the local landlord there. He owns five mountain peaks and has collected many snake gallstones full of spiritual energy. These things are formed from the coagulated blood essence of the last true dragon in the world. Think about their value yourselves. So along this journey, serve my master well."
The pink-skirted little girl's eyes lit up, and she bowed deeply to Chen Ping'an, her face full of joy. "I am willing to follow the master."
The green-clad little boy was even more straightforward. With a thump, he knelt and kowtowed, the sound thudding. "Master, do you lack beautiful concubines to warm your bed? I know quite a few, including cultivators. If Master just nods, I'll go and kidnap... I mean, I'll invite them over in a grand sedan chair for Master."
Chen Ping'an rubbed his forehead and glanced at Cui Chan. Was it "birds of a feather flock together"? Why did he always attract such unruly oddballs? In contrast, the people around him—Baoping, Li Huai, and Lin Shouyi—were all very proper.
After having his soul connection severed by the Old Scholar, Cui Chan was now in the skin of a youth and was mostly youthful in temperament, but his vision, insight, and scheming remained. From that one glance, Cui Chan guessed about seven or eight parts of Chen Ping'an's thoughts, and he felt somewhat helpless. Were Li Baoping and those children normal? For that matter, were you, Chen Ping'an, normal? A broken boxing manual with broken techniques—how many people in the world would first think to practice it a million times before discussing anything else?
The green-clad little boy raised his head. "Master, there's a youngest son of Cao Hushan of Zhilan Mansion. He was on the riverbank outside the city earlier, spying on me. His realm isn't high, but his cultivation is decent, and he has pretty good talent. He also has an immortal's mansion as a backing. By now, he's probably reunited with his father. If we let him be, we'll have trouble later. Do you want me to..."
The little boy made a gesture of opening his mouth wide and swallowing.
Cui Chan laughed. "After dealing with you two, I've only told half my reasoning. Now you two just accompany the master out of the city. I'll stay behind to wrap things up."
Chen Ping'an nodded and warned, "Don't kill indiscriminately."
Cui Chan laughed heartily. "Since the master has spoken, how would the student dare disobey?"
The bamboo basket shifted slightly. Chen Ping'an turned to look. The locust wood sword was trembling slightly. The tiny, adorable golden-clad little girl followed the wooden sword and the basket up to Chen Ping'an's shoulder, waving at him. Chen Ping'an understood and tilted his head. This strange spirit, who had been dwelling in the locust wood sword all along, whispered in his ear. After listening carefully, Chen Ping'an said to Cui Chan, "It tells me that when you get to the Great Sui Academy, you should tell Mao Xiaodong two things. One: 'Heaven and man are distinct; transform nature and initiate artifice.' Two: 'Ritual fixes social order; law achieves hegemony.'"
Cui Chan sighed softly, his expression complicated.
Obviously, one sentence was a parting gift from the Old Scholar to himself, and the other was a dying message that Qi Jingchun had originally hoped to pass on through Chen Ping'an to Mao Xiaodong.
Cui Chan felt somewhat disheartened and pointed at the little figure on Chen Ping'an's shoulder. "This is the last surviving incense-and-fire little person from the Pear Blossom Cave Heaven. It has already formed most of its golden body, which is very rare. Your Fallen Mountain has a mountain god temple. That mountain god is trustworthy. In the future, you can raise this incense-and-fire little person in that shrine, with the incense burner as its dwelling and incense smoke as its food."
The golden-clad little girl standing on Chen Ping'an's shoulder hesitated, then took a deep breath and looked at Cui Chan. "Mr. Qi left another message. But at the time, Master said you might not have the opportunity. Now that you've acknowledged Chen Ping'an as your teacher, although you're still a bad person, I think I can tell you."
Cui Chan was stunned on the spot. His heart stirred, and he slowly became serious. "I'm all ears."
The incense-and-fire little person in golden clothes spoke in a childish voice: "The student asked, 'A crab has six legs and two pincers'—how to interpret this? Was it a typo? The teacher replied, 'A poor scholar's purse is empty too.'"
Cui Chan burst into laughter, laughing so hard that tears streamed down his face.
Everyone found it utterly baffling.
Cui Chan walked alone toward the library building, laughing without stopping. As he walked, he wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and turned his head to say, "Master, I won't see you off anymore."
Cui Chan entered the library and at the second-floor window, looking at Chen Ping'an's retreating back, he shouted loudly, "Master, if you encounter some great difficulty, you can take a detour to find that old vice minister of the Revenue Bureau. Just say you are my teacher. And if you can bring yourself to say that you and the Old Scholar have a half-teacher-half-student relationship, that would be even better!"
Chen Ping'an turned and said, "I understand. Take care of yourself."
Cui Chan waved his hand and murmured, "Arise and act. Let us encourage each other."
Cui Chan climbed all the way to the top, reaching the sixth floor, and looked into the distance from a height.
The reason he hadn't wanted to ascend this floor before wasn't that there was some mystery here, but that his youthful temperament was acting up again, reminding Cui Chan of some unpleasant memories.
Whether as the senior disciple of the Confucian Sage or the state preceptor of Great Li, everyone walked the path from youth.
When Cui Chan reached the top floor, he fell backward, casually placing the ancient inkstone aside, completely disregarding the white dust that stained his white clothes.
He turned his head and looked at the inkstone. "Since I've already started, why not do it all in one go? Capture all the remnants of the dragon spawn from the ancient Shu Kingdom and raise them all in there?"
Cui Chan looked up at the colorful caisson ceiling, carved with a majestic coiled dragon.
It was different from the library building in his memory. The light there was dim, and there wasn't such a beautiful view.
Cui Chan closed his eyes, feeling drowsy.
He still remembered that when he was young, he was exceptionally talented but unstable in temperament. His grandfather, who had high hopes for him, mercilessly "imprisoned" him in the small attic on the top floor of the library. The stairs were removed, and meals were delivered three times a day via rope and food boxes. He ate, drank, and handled all his necessities in that cramped space.
There was naturally a chamber pot, changed daily. To resist and express his anger and dissatisfaction, the child would often tear out book pages to use as toilet paper, or fold paper into little kites and birds, tossing them out through a small window to fly in the wind. Then, every time, he would hear his grandfather downstairs, leaning on his cane and cursing loudly.
At that time, the thing Cui Chan did most often was to pile up all the books in the attic, stand on the high stack, and lie prone by the window, gazing at the river outside the city. He would often just stare for hours on end.
Back then, Cui Chan wasn't called Cui Chan. He was called Cui Chanchan. The characters "瀺" meant the sound of water, and "巉" meant towering mountains and steep ridges.
His grandfather, who had named him, naturally hoped that when the grandson grew up, his moral character and scholarly cultivation would combine the beauty of great mountains and rivers, that he would be both wise and benevolent, with both water and mountain being spiritually exquisite, so that he would become a seed of learning and join the ranks of gentlemen and sages. But the child didn't appreciate it. After finally leaving the attic, he quickly left his hometown to travel far away, walking out of his home country, out of a continent, and eventually all the way to the Central Continent. He only regretted not going far enough, the further from that stubborn old man the better. He deliberately removed the character "巉," keeping only the relatively preferred "瀺," and for the long years that followed, he always called himself simply Cui Chan.
Even when Cui Chan returned to Vase Bottle Continent and became the Great Li state preceptor, he still never returned to his hometown once.
He didn't want to go back.
Cui Chan opened his eyes, wiped his face with his sleeve, and said, "What are you looking at? Never seen a grown man feeling sad before?"
An old man in scholar's robes appeared on the top floor, having traveled there via yin spirit—it was the old flood dragon. The old man stared at the inkstone, his face dark.
Cui Chan didn't get up. He waved his sleeve and brushed the inkstone toward the old man. "Your three hundred years of cultivation have been struck down. The matter from last time is considered settled. Now you don't need to rush to Longquan County. Help me capture the remaining spawn of the dragon kind, young and old, big and small—imprison them all in the inkstone. My master left behind many snake gallstones of the finest quality, but he didn't bring them out of his hometown. It's a good thing he didn't take them out, or with his nature, who knows if he'd have squandered them all early on like a charity-giving child. Now it's just right; we can make the best use of them in the future."
Cui Chan sat up and casually shook the dust from his shoulders.
The old flood dragon put away the inkstone and clearly perceived the change in the youth's aura. The anger in his heart instantly vanished like smoke, replaced by helplessness and admiration. "The state preceptor is indeed the state preceptor."
Cui Chan sighed. "From nothing to three, from three to five—not worth making a fuss over. On this small Vase Bottle Continent, it's rare, but if you were in the Central Continent, you wouldn't need to stay there a thousand years. In just a hundred years, you'd find countless dazzling geniuses rising swiftly, then falling in an instant. It would even make you dizzy from watching. In the end, you'd discover that only those who grow old without dying and grow old without decay are truly formidable."
The old man in scholar's robes—the founding ancestor of Ziyang Mansion and the father of the Cold Food River water god, nominally a retired vice minister of the Huangting Kingdom—shook his head and smiled. "That's a place where we can't stay. If discovered, ten to one, we'd be caught by those major dynasties and skinned alive."
Cui Chan still sat on the ground, his expression wooden. "Things have changed again. In the Great Li capital, some people think that you serving as the head of the new academy at Piyun Mountain is not convincing. I opposed it, but His Majesty the Emperor has already decided to let you serve only as the vice-head. And you might not even secure the second seat firmly. This is my miscalculation first. So if you want to back out, I have no objection."
The old man smiled frankly. "A vice-head sitting in the back? I think it's quite good. I won't be the first bird to be shot."
Cui Chan turned his head and frowned. "Now you're being polite with me. If you go back on your word later, I won't be so easy to deal with."
The old man shook his head. "That's not a polite remark."
Cui Chan's eccentric temperament surfaced again. Instead of being relieved, he sneered, "No wonder you've lived so long."
The old man didn't take offense at this. He sighed emotionally, "Now I only hope to live even longer."
Cui Chan stood up. Without any movement, all the dust on his white clothes fell away and floated off. "Next, I'll trouble you to send me to Great Sui. After that, you come back here, settle the matters of Zhilan Mansion, and you can take the opportunity to win over that water god outside the city."
The old man's expression turned strange.
Cui Chan walked up to the old man and said with a chuckle, "What's the matter? Not used to having someone ride on your neck? Nothing to be embarrassed about. In ancient times, immortals rode dragons just like wealthy folks today ride horses or donkeys. It's perfectly normal."
The old man in scholar's robes gave a bitter smile and resignedly said, "Then shall I wait for you outside the building?"
Cui Chan nodded, and the old man's figure vanished in a flash.
Above the city wall of this prefectural city, the wind suddenly stirred and clouds surged. A great canopy of clouds descended, almost touching the top of the library building.
Outside the city, the river god in human form stood by the water's edge, looking up with awe.
The three deities of the City God Tower and the Civil and Martial Temples did the same.
Cui Chan flicked his toe, floated out of the top-floor window, passed through the sea of clouds, and landed on the head of an old flood dragon. He sat cross-legged. The old dragon flicked its tail and flew forward on the wind.
A white-clad youth with a mole between his eyebrows rode like a legendary god riding a heavenly dragon.
Cui Chan smiled knowingly. He closed his eyes, formed hand seals, and began idly practicing the sword furnace stance.
Those who touch vermilion are stained red.
---
At the city gate, Chen Ping'an turned to look. The sea of clouds in the sky was churning.
He was flanked by the two children dressed like page boys.
As soon as the green-clad little boy walked out of the city gate, he felt like a fierce tiger returning to the mountain or a flood dragon entering the sea. He swaggered and said, "Master, that guy was really vicious."
The pink-skirted little girl glanced at her sworn enemy who always shot off his mouth, then pursed her lips tightly, determined not to speak.
Chen Ping'an reached out a hand and gently placed it on the green-clad little boy's head. "He is my student."
The green-clad little boy was so frightened he quickly ran away.
Chen Ping'an continued walking.
Was this "those who touch ink are stained black"?