Chapter 194: Subduing Demons and Exorcising Evils
Although there was no need to visit relatives, staying on the cold and desolate Fallen Mountain during the New Year was hardly ideal. So Chen Ping'an took the two little ones out of the mountains and returned to the bustling market town, which was now as lively as any prefectural capital in the Huangting Kingdom. But the Iron Lock Well was missing its iron lock, the old locust tree on Old Street was gone, and the school where Mr. Qi had taught was empty. No matter how vibrant the crowds or how strong the festive atmosphere, Chen Ping'an still felt a sense of loss.
As they neared the alley, the green-clad boy complained, "Master, if we run into any vicious-looking characters on the way to Mud Vase Alley this time—like someone who could kill me with one punch—I'm not just making threats. I swear I'll never come down the mountain to the old house again! Don't blame me for being disloyal later."
But just as they reached the entrance of Mud Vase Alley, Chen Ping'an spotted a familiar figure—slender and graceful, like a tender willow branch in a spring breeze. She was carrying a wooden bucket with both hands, apparently returning from the well at Apricot Blossom Alley. She seemed a bit strained, so she simply dropped the bucket, then bent over, panting heavily as the bucket crashed to the ground, splashing water everywhere. Yet the girl paid no attention to such minor imperfections.
It was Song Jixin's maidservant, Zhigui—or rather, Wang Zhu.
As for whose maidservant she became—his or their neighbor Song Jixin's—Chen Ping'an didn't blame the girl. As the books said, "A good bird chooses a tree to perch on."
That snowy, windy night, the girl had lain dying in the snow, mustering her last strength to weakly knock on his door.
Whether to save someone or not was Chen Ping'an's own choice. Whether others repaid kindness or not was their own matter.
But meeting again, much sooner than he had imagined, left Chen Ping'an with mixed feelings.
Zhigui also saw Chen Ping'an. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and looked at him. His straw sandals were still straw sandals, but now a hairpin was tucked into his topknot. He seemed to have grown a bit taller, and instead of walking alone and forlorn, he had two little tag-alongs.
The girl said nothing.
Chen Ping'an was about to greet her when he felt the green-clad boy grab his arm tightly, refusing to let him move forward. Not only that, but the pink-dressed girl had also hidden behind him, clutching his sleeve desperately. Both little ones were chattering their teeth, barely daring to breathe.
It was like timid mortals who feared ghosts most in life, and now they were seeing a ghost in broad daylight.
The green-clad boy was filled with regret, wishing he could slap himself in the mouth. "You and your jinxed mouth!" he cursed inwardly.
The pink-dressed girl whimpered behind Chen Ping'an, "Master, I'm scared. More scared than dying."
Chen Ping'an sighed. "Then go explore the town elsewhere. Take a look at our shop on Riding Dragon Lane and keep an eye on things there. I'll find you later."
The two little ones felt as if they had been granted amnesty and fled at top speed.
Chen Ping'an walked alone into Mud Vase Alley, just as he had done for so many years. The boy picked up the wooden bucket for the girl, and together they entered the alley.
Zhigui asked, "Those two—are they your new page boy and maid?"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Do I look like someone who'd play the master? They're just calling me that for fun."
Zhigui said, "Oh."
As they passed the old Cao family estate, the courtyard gate was wide open. The elder Cao Xi was squatting at the entrance, cracking sunflower seeds, while the younger Cao Jun was squatting on the wall, also cracking sunflower seeds.
It was obvious—they had come to watch the show.
Cao Xi said cheerfully, "Little auntie, is this your lover boy? Flirting with each other so early in the morning—makes me and Cao Jun, two grown men, quite envious."
Cao Jun, who always liked to squint when looking at people, smiled as usual. A pair of long and short swords hung at his waist. "Envious, truly envious," he said.
Zhigui snorted coldly. "Like father, like son! No wonder even the ancestral house collapsed."
The dignified land sword immortal of Southern Bodhisattva Continent, half-owner of a Sealing Tide Tower, Cao Xi was not the least bit angry. Instead, his smile grew warmer. "You're right, little auntie. I just wonder why, after all these years, our Cao family's incense spirit has never appeared. By rights, with how well I've done on Bodhisattva Continent, this place should be glowing with ancestral glory and shining at night. How did it fall into such decline?"
Zhigui didn't stop walking. She turned her head toward Cao Xi, her smile innocent. "Heaven's punishment can be forgiven; self-inflicted disaster is beyond redemption. Unless someone ate your family's incense spirit? Besides, the town's magical arts are banned. Relying on ancestral blessings to nurture an incense spirit is harder than ascending to heaven. Maybe the Cao family never had one at all. Right?"
Cao Xi laughed heartily. "Makes sense, makes sense. Walk slowly, little auntie. The alley is rough—be careful not to twist your ankle."
Zhigui turned her back to that old bastard, her face darkening.
From start to finish, Chen Ping'an said nothing.
Cao Jun asked with a smile, "Old Cao, what's going on? Over on Bodhisattva Continent, with your achievements, you should have enough incense spirits to wage war on the door lintels and plaques, right?"
Cao Xi said nonchalantly, "It's one thing that in Pendant Pearl Cave Heaven, it's hard for incense spirits to form—she wasn't lying. But considering my and Xie Shi's accomplishments, we should have at least one or two left. For instance, the Xie family on Peach Leaf Alley relied on a pair of incense spirits to maintain their family traditions for centuries, barely preserving their bloodline. Otherwise, they would have ended up like our broken-down house here—everyone dead."
Cao Jun clicked his tongue. "So she messed them up? And you're still so nice to her? Don't tell me you want to sleep with her?"
A fiery red fox leaped from the rooftop onto Cao Jun's head and giggled, "Sleep with her? Old Cao wouldn't dare. That girl is the center of everyone's attention now. Even if Old Cao were a realm higher, he wouldn't dare lay a hand on her. At most, he's just running his mouth. A silver spear with a wax head—looks good but useless."
Cao Xi turned around and laughed, "Get lost. You reek of fox stink. You're interfering with my enjoyment of my hometown's air."
The fox standing on Cao Jun's head extended one claw, pointing at the ground beneath it, and stomped its foot hard. "Come on, go ahead. Use your lifebound sword on your wrist and strike here. If you don't, Cao Xi, you're my grandson. Cut me down with all your might. If I dodge even once, I'll be your granddaughter!"
Cao Jun shook his head but couldn't shake off the fox. He said helplessly, "You two can squabble all you want, but don't drag me into it. To be fair, Old Cao only married his thirty-eighth concubine. If you really can't stand this, just skin her and make yourself a new coat. It's not like you haven't done that plenty of times. You're old hands at it. Why take it out on me?"
The fiery red fox sneered, "That old bastard only likes big hips and round rear ends. He hasn't improved at all in all these years. Disgusting."
Cao Xi sat back down on the doorstep, cracking sunflower seeds. "A thousand gold can't buy what pleases me. Oh, and you slut, have some sunflower seeds for the New Year."
Boom.
The fiery red fox exploded on Cao Jun's head, then reformed on the rooftop. Then it exploded again. This repeated over and over, from the ridge of the Cao family ancestral house to the neighbor's house, all the way out of Mud Vase Alley, before the fox finally stopped being targeted. Its eyes were dim with exhaustion. Grinding its teeth, it sat cross-legged on a protruding eave and began breathing exercises.
Cao Xi had finished his seeds. He clapped his hands, stood up, and walked back into the courtyard. He said to Cao Jun, "Don't be rash lately. The Great Li Dynasty is now a battleground that everyone wants a piece of. It's not as simple as you think."
Cao Jun said lazily, "I know."
"'I, know'?"
Cao Xi savored the words, then sneered, "Those two words aren't something you're qualified to say."
Cao Jun said flippantly, "Got it."
Cao Xi strode into the house, muttering bitterly, "A nine-realm piece of trash!"
Cao Jun remained unperturbed.
Chen Ping'an reached the courtyard next door. He handed the wooden bucket back to the girl and asked casually, "Song Jixin didn't come back?"
She answered evasively, "What happened to my hen and her chicks at my house?"
Chen Ping'an looked bewildered. "I don't know."
The girl studied the boy carefully, then suddenly beamed. She didn't press further, but she held up two fingers to show a height difference. "Song Mu is this much taller than you now."
Chen Ping'an said, "Oh," then turned and walked back to his own courtyard.
As soon as Chen Ping'an unlocked the door and entered, he caught sight of the inverted "Fu" character above his own door—it was gone. He flew into a rage and immediately went to the courtyard wall. "Zhigui! Where is my Fu character?!"
Then he laughed in anger. It turned out the Fu was now pasted above the door of the neighboring house.
This thief was audacious to the extreme.
The girl had just put away her bucket in the kitchen and walked out leisurely, looking innocent. "I don't know."
It was exactly the same answer Chen Ping'an had given her before.
Chen Ping'an said angrily, "Give it back!"
Zhigui widened her eyes. "Then what about me? I deliberately left that wooden figurine in the kitchen. You clearly moved it, and I didn't say anything."
Chen Ping'an was momentarily speechless. He was indeed in the wrong there.
Zhigui suddenly asked, "At Qi Jing... Mr. Qi's school, did you put up New Year couplets?"
Chen Ping'an was startled, then nodded. "Yes, I put up both couplets and the Fu character."
Chen Ping'an didn't want to keep arguing with her. He went into the house, took out the one remaining Fu character, set up a ladder, and pasted a new inverted Fu above the door.
The girl stood by the courtyard wall and reminded him, "It's crooked."
Chen Ping'an ignored her. He gently pressed the red paper and paste with his fingers.
The girl said anxiously, "Really! Why would I lie to you? Chen Ping'an, you're so ungrateful. If the Fu is pasted crooked, it's unlucky."
Chen Ping'an climbed down the ladder, looked up, and confirmed it wasn't crooked.
The girl kept chattering, "It really is crooked. If you don't believe me, ask Cao Xi or those other cultivators. They'll tell you I'm not lying. You're just a mortal with good eyesight—it's not as good as ours."
Chen Ping'an walked into the house and slammed the door shut with a bang.
About the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, the boy crept over to the door, opened it silently, and stepped over the threshold. He stared hard at the Fu character.
It wasn't crooked.
Zhigui suddenly appeared like a ghost, opening her door a crack, poking her head out, and said with a straight face, "It really is crooked."
Chen Ping'an felt a bit aggrieved. He pulled out a bench and sat in the doorway to bask in the sun. After a while, he began practicing throwing clay on the potter's wheel.
Zhigui stood by the courtyard wall, watching the boy who no longer fired ceramic. She watched for a while, found it boring, and went back inside to sleep.
She lay on the bed, swallowing hard. From the lintel of the Cao family ancestral house, only one incense spirit had been born. Its quality was high, a dazzling gold, almost flawless save for a tiny imperfection. But it still wasn't enough for her to even fill the gaps between her teeth.
---
Next door, Chen Ping'an practiced throwing clay skillfully, his heart calm as still water.
During breaks, Chen Ping'an began planning his future. Treasure Talisman Mountain, Colorful Cloud Peak, and Immortal Herb Mountain were all near Ruan Qiong's family mountain. According to their agreement, they would be leased to Ruan Qiong for free in a contiguous stretch, essentially helping him occupy the largest expanse of land in the west. In return, Ruan Qiong would help Chen Ping'an look after his five mountains, ensuring that Chen Ping'an didn't have the life or the money to spend. For this, Chen Ping'an felt grateful to Ruan Qiong.
Pearl Mountain was too small to mention. It was like having the ingredients but no means to cook—impossible to build a cave heaven or blessed land. At best, one could build a thatched hut on it. Only Chen Ping'an would be willing to waste a gold essence copper coin on such a thing.
But managing Fallen Mountain truly required care.
Chen Ping'an was well aware of the bamboo tower's peculiarity. Fallen Mountain also had a mountain god temple to guard the landscape—a genuine feng shui treasure. And there was a black snake determined to become a river dragon, acting as a watchdog. Now, with two little dragon-like creatures added, Chen Ping'an thought of exchanging ordinary snake gallstones for silver with the green-clad boy. Even if he couldn't turn Fallen Mountain into a money pot, at least there might be some hope of supplementing his daily expenses in the future.
Chen Ping'an loved money because he had known from childhood how hard it was to earn. That didn't mean that once he had money, he would clutch his purse tightly.
The sword needed to be practiced, but before determining how to practice it, rushing was useless.
The Mountain-Shaking Fist certainly required diligent training, as he had promised to throw a million punches.
As for drawing talismans, since it was essentially another form of martial cultivation, with the former focusing on physical forging and the latter on internal refinement of energy cavities and acupoints, they didn't conflict but instead complemented each other. Chen Ping'an was merely allocating some time from his standing and walking practice to drawing talismans. But talismans required talisman paper, which cost real silver and gold, and that made Chen Ping'an a bit uneasy.
In the end, he still didn't earn enough money.
Besides these, the greatest regret in Chen Ping'an's heart at the moment was that he couldn't yet wield the dimensional treasure given by the sword spirit. Although he felt comfortable leaving most of his belongings at the blacksmith's shop, it was still inconvenient. The miniature and dimensional treasures of Cui Dongshan and the green-clad boy had shown Chen Ping'an how precious and practical such treasures were. No wonder not every mountain immortal had one.
Chen Ping'an looked south, wondering how Ruan Qiong's sword forging was going.
Ruan Qiong had promised Miss Ning to forge a divine weapon for her.
If one day he succeeded, she would have a suitable sword, and Chen Ping'an would have a locust wood sword.
Chen Ping'an thought it would be nice to name them "Subduing Demons" and "Exorcising Evils."
As for that sword embryo, although the literary saint had called it "Little Fengdu," Chen Ping'an felt it would be more appropriate to rename it "First Day" or "Morning," since it had first appeared in this world as a flying sword on the morning of the first day of the new year.
Just as this idea popped into Chen Ping'an's mind, the long-silent sword embryo in his qi sea immediately began to stir up trouble.
In an instant, Chen Ping'an's face turned crimson. He began to suffer.
Chen Ping'an took a deep breath. There was no time to go inside, so he had to assume the sword furnace stance to counter the sword embryo's swift retaliation.
It was excruciating.
---
At the courier station closest to the town, the Great Li Dynasty's grand preceptor, Cui Chan, had been staying there recently. He had neither made a big show of his presence nor deliberately concealed his whereabouts.
Today, the grand preceptor left the station, not even allowing the swordsman Xu Ruo to follow. He traveled alone.
Every step Cui Chan took covered three or four miles. Finally, he stopped in the middle of a narrow path, blocking an old man in tattered clothes.
The disheveled old man, barefoot, stared blankly at the grand preceptor in his scholar's robes. His vision was blurry, and he still hadn't regained his senses. Relying only on a faint glimmer of awareness, he asked a strange question, "You're not my grandson. Where is my grandson?"
Cui Chan's eyes were complex. He seemed to want to speak but hesitated.
The old man, covered in grass clippings and dirt, persisted, "Where is my grandson? I don't want to see you. I want to see my grandson."
Cui Chan clasped his hands behind his back, fingers interlaced, trembling slightly.
The deranged, barefoot old man suddenly shouted angrily, "Where is my grandson?! Where have you hidden him?! Give me back my Chan'er!"
As he said this, his momentum plummeted, and he murmured, "I want to give my grandson a new name, a better name..."
Cui Chan's expression was bleak. He said bitterly, "It feels like another life. Not just feels—it clearly is."
The ragged old man shoved Cui Chan's shoulder aside and walked straight ahead. "Move aside. Don't delay me from finding Chan'er. I need to find his teacher and ask if the new name I've chosen is good."
Cui Chan stood still, making no move to stop him.
Cui Chan looked into the distance. A stern-faced middle-aged monk was approaching slowly.
A wandering monk who measures heaven and earth with his footsteps—such is the Buddhist traveler.
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