Chapter 199: The Yellow Bird Departs and Returns
(This is not a major chapter; major chapters will be delayed for a few days, as they involve writing about a group of characters who have left, requiring considerable length to explain clearly. The current chapter is about drawing in a large net.)
After the New Year, several major events occurred in Bottle Gourd Continent.
First, the young but highly senior Daoist from Divine Declaration Sect, under the ardent recommendation of his senior brother and sect leader, the "Heavenly Lord" Qi Zhen, was invited by Divine Declaration Sect's superior sect, a major Daoist sect located in the Central Earth Divine Continent, to become its new Scripture-Keeper True Person, in charge of the exceptionally precious Daoist masterpiece "The Sutra of the Mysterious Cavern," a book hailed as the "Outlines of Daoist Law." This news was in no way inferior to the earlier celebration of Qi Zhen being conferred the title of Heavenly Lord.
Second, True Martial Mountain, one of the ancestral courts of the Military Strategist school, admitted a new disciple last year who broke through three realms within a single year. This caused True Martial Mountain, which had previously been slightly overshadowed in reputation by Wind Snow Temple, to surge significantly in prestige, faintly showing signs of surpassing Wind Snow Temple. It was worth noting that this was happening even after Wind Snow Temple's Wei Jin had attained the rank of Land Sword Immortal, highlighting the extraordinary talent of this youth.
Third, a rumor circulated that the Great Li Dynasty of the northern barbarians had gone mad, intending to elevate a certain mountain peak in the southern part of their territory to become the nation's Northern Sacred Mountain. This immediately sparked widespread discussion, mostly mockery and ridicule, with people saying that the bumpkin Song clan not only had shallow learning but also couldn't even tell north from south. Only the Lake View Academy strictly forbade its scholars from discussing this matter, which was worth pondering.
Several other events were not as astonishing as the first three, and most were hearsay and unverified minor rumors, their truth or falsehood temporarily uncertain. For example, at the Old Dragon City in the southernmost part of the continent, the young city lord Fu Nanhua was to marry a legitimate daughter of a powerful clan in the Southern Stream Kingdom. The woman's family was one of the few major clans in Bottle Gourd Continent, but it was said that the woman was extraordinarily ugly and an old maid of thirty.
Another example was the Great Sui in the north, which was in turmoil. Numerous grand cultivators were quietly leaving the country, choosing to "travel" southward, allegedly to avoid the edge of the Great Li's illusory White Jade Flying Sword Tower.
As for Cliff Academy, which had been stripped of its title as one of the Seventy-Two Academies, it had taken root in the Great Sui capital last year—this was not considered major news.
Additionally, the Great Sui announced that it had gained a shocking tenth-level martial artist. The southern part of Bottle Gourd Continent regarded this as a clumsy deception by the Great Sui Gao clan.
The Lantern Festival had only passed a few days ago, yet so many major events had already occurred. Eastern Bottle Gourd Continent had never seemed so lively.
Since Wei Po began visiting Fallen Mountain daily for walks and relaxation, the mountain itself became bustling. The immortal families on the three nearby mountains, who had initially regarded Fallen Mountain—reluctant to build any mansions—as a joke, now frequently traveled there, either to encounter the Northern Sacred Mountain Great God or to offer incense at the mountain god's temple on the summit.
This move was not trivial. For immortals to enter a temple and burn incense involved major rules and conventions. Immortals rarely set foot in temples and rarely burned incense, unless it was a "first incense" akin to forming an alliance. For example, if one built a mansion on a mountain with an imperially sanctioned shrine, one might burn a single stick of incense, not three, as a greeting. If the incense burned down completely, it signified the mountain and river spirit's acknowledgment. If the incense in the burner refused to ignite, it meant "the timing was not ripe." After that, whether the immortal chose to break relations or to further curry favor depended on their respective backgrounds, or rather, the thickness of the dynasty's arms and the size of its fists.
However, the small Bottle Gourd Continent was ultimately not the flourishing Central Earth Divine Continent. It was said that over there, a powerful dynasty had once stood for a thousand years. Whenever the nation's fortunes waned, wise rulers and talented ministers and generals would emerge to turn the tide. That dynasty highly revered pure martial artists and once accomplished an unprecedented feat: a certain foolish ruler, nearly breaking the dynasty's legacy, enraged over a beauty, mobilized the entire nation to besiege a great sacred mountain. In addition to the magical treasures of qi refiners and flying swords of sword cultivators, countless pure martial artists used powerful bows and crossbows. Six thousand trebuchets inscribed with Daoist cloud seal talismans were deployed, along with nearly ten thousand specially made giant bed crossbows crafted by Mohist mechanism masters. They used all the dynasty's reserves; each bed crossbow bolt was as thick as a palace pillar... Ultimately, they shot that great sacred mountain into a hedgehog.
The town of Dragon Spring was still lively, but in the past two days, the western mountains had been unusually quiet and peaceful. Not only the visiting immortal families who had settled here, but even the unruly goblins and monsters dared not breathe too loudly, because the Great Li National Teacher Cui Chan had begun his mountain patrol.
It was said that this was the first time the old Confucian scholar had set foot in Dragon Spring Commandery. The old man was unsmiling and stern, accompanied by only two attendants, traveling from north to south, starting from the commandery governor's office in the north and entering the mountains.
Because the old man had not intended to travel incognito, he first informed his proud disciple, Wu Yuan, who served as the commandery governor. Thus, all the major mountain peaks had received early notice from the government, requiring them to prepare for the National Teacher's arrival in the near future. He might ascend any mountain to view the scenery at any time.
It was not that he demanded any extravagant feasts or ostentatious displays of street sweeping, but a certain level of courtesy was expected. At the very least, the person in charge should stay on the mountain and not wander off; otherwise, if the National Teacher ascended the mountain and casually asked questions only to receive three "I don't knows," that would be inappropriate.
Among these, Spirit Hidden Mountain under Ruan Qiong's name and Ox Horn Mountain, where the Bundle Shop was located, were naturally of utmost importance. Wu Yuan had to dispatch the two eldest young masters, Yuan and Cao, who respectively served as the county magistrate and kiln affairs supervisor, to stay at those locations in advance to avoid any negligence or mishaps in hospitality.
As for Cloak Cloud Mountain, it went without saying that the Emperor himself would soon visit. Sure enough, National Teacher Cui Chan stayed briefly at Cloak Cloud Mountain for two days, inspecting the Northern Sacred Mountain shrine and the site of the new academy. During this time, the appearance of one figure, accompanying the National Teacher throughout, caused an uproar. It was none other than the old vice minister of Yellow Court Kingdom, "Cheng Shuidong." This sparked numerous speculations—had the Hong clan of Yellow Court Kingdom, a vassal state of Great Sui, already broken their alliance?
Finally, Cui Chan traveled to the southernmost Fallen Mountain and ascended the mountain god's shrine. Song Yuzhang manifested his golden body. In his youth, when he studied, Song Yuzhang had held the National Teacher in the highest regard. Now, not only did he get to see his true face up close, but he could also exchange a few words on morality and learning. This filled Song Yuzhang, now a mountain and river deity, with immense excitement.
Leaving the mountain god shrine, Cui Chan instructed Song Yuzhang to go to Cloak Cloud Mountain and discuss with Wei Po the matter of demonic creatures entering the mountains. He then ordered his two attendants, Xu Ruo and Liu Yu, to return to the town and continue watching Xie Shi and Cao Xi. In the twilight, the Great Li National Teacher slowly descended the mountain alone, walking along a quiet path until he arrived before a bamboo tower. A green-clad boy and a pink-skirted girl—one training by the cliff, the other eating melon seeds and pastries under the eaves—noticed the old man. The pink-skirted girl blinked her eyes. Their master had fainted again in the herbal bath. She dared neither to hastily close the door to refuse the visitor nor to let the strange old man barge into the bamboo tower.
The green-clad boy had been diligently practicing cultivation lately, sitting in meditation day and night without rest. Apart from carrying Chen Ping'an down from the second floor, he had barely left the cliffside and ignored worldly affairs. But when he opened his eyes, he saw an old Confucian scholar with unfathomable cultivation, who looked like he had a bad temper. The green-clad boy even considered jumping off the cliff to his death. If he encountered someone who could kill him with one punch on the streets of town or on Mud Vase Alley, that was one thing. If he encountered such a person on the desolate road back to Fallen Mountain, he could endure that. But now, was he supposed to encounter someone on his own doorstep, while quietly cultivating, who could kill him with one punch?
The green-clad boy's expression was numb. Unafraid of death, he displayed great boldness and said to the old man, "My master is not receiving guests lately. If you're unhappy, feel free to punch me to death, but you'll have to step over my corpse first."
The old man nodded, his face cold, "You want to die, right?"
Just as the green-clad boy was about to speak, the pink-skirted girl asked in a childish voice, "Old sir, who are you looking for?"
Cui Chan turned his head and smiled, "My name is Cui Chan, National Teacher of Great Li. I'm not looking for your master; I'm looking for the person on the second floor."
The green-clad boy looked as if struck by lightning. He instantly rolled his eyes, pressing one hand to his head and waving the other blindly, "What did I just say? I don't remember. How could this happen..."
Upstairs, an old man stood by the railing and said to the pink-skirted girl, "Let him come up. Take that little water snake and go play somewhere else. Don't worry, it has nothing to do with your master Chen Ping'an."
National Teacher Cui Chan carried two chairs up to the second floor, set them down gently on the corridor, and each sat on one.
The old man asked, "What's going on?"
Cui Chan said calmly, "For the sake of my own Great Dao, I found an ancient relic of a great immortal's skin, split half my soul and placed it inside, dividing myself into two. I walked through the Li Zhu Cave Heaven in the guise of a young man. But my scheme against Qi Jingchun failed, and instead he severely damaged my realm and destabilized my soul. Later, I made a deal with a very ancient remnant criminal here, learned a secret technique, and barely managed to stabilize my mind. Then the old scholar came here. He chose the youthful incarnation of me, abandoned the me in the Great Li capital, severed the soul connection, and completely split me in two. So now there are two Cui Chans in the world..."
The old man's expression was equally cold. He clenched his fists on his knees and gazed into the distance, "Wrong. It's Cui Chan and Cui Chan."
Cui Chan made no comment on this. "I am Cui Chan. From the moment I left my hometown, that was so. As for the youth who took half my soul, he has now chosen a new name related to mountains—Cui Dongshan. I think Cui Chan would be more fitting. Cui Chan, Cui Dongshan—mountains and waters never separate, mountains and waters will meet again, and it even has a good omen."
The old man turned his head, "How did you become so old?"
Cui Chan laughed bitterly, "Left home at twenty, went to Central Earth Divine Continent at twenty-four. Over the next hundred years, I experienced great rises and falls, betrayed my sect and wandered for over thirty years, traveled the world, and after returning to Bottle Gourd Continent, I spent so many years in this Great Li Dynasty. I'm two hundred years old now. I'm not young anymore."
The old man shook his head, "This is not the Chan of my memory."
Cui Chan smiled, light and airy, "Grandfather, you know? You've always been like this, always 'I think'—as if everyone and all truths in the world revolve around you. Only when you went mad did you stop being like that. Although I don't know the details or reasons behind this, why the Cui clan didn't imprison you, I don't think this visit of yours has any meaning for either of us."
The old man shook his head again, "I'm here to find your master."
Cui Chan sneered, "The old scholar? He left Bottle Gourd Continent long ago. He went to Bodhi Continent and made a huge stir—he even stole a sun from the shoulder of the Yingyin Chen clan ancestor. Now the whole world is in an uproar. But the old scholar doesn't care about anyone now; he's quite carefree."
The old man said with a smile, "When you were young, Chan, you wouldn't have spoken like that. You would say bad things about someone, but you'd always end with a 'but'—'but that person is good to his family,' 'but that person's poetry is truly good,' 'but...'"
Cui Chan snorted coldly, "Enough! Stale old accounts, turning them over and over, all dust."
The old man laughed heartily, "No wonder I didn't recognize you at the time. The Chan in my memory is too different from you now."
Cui Chan sighed.
The old man said mockingly, "No wonder I didn't recognize you then. The Chan I remember is far too different from you now."
Cui Chan stood up, one hand on the railing, and said, "Human hearts are like water—if they don't move, they become stagnant."
The old man slowly rose, "I can see that, aside from your swordsman, there are two other formidable figures in town. Are they targeting you? Do you need me to do anything?"
Cui Chan hesitated for a moment, half-seriously, half-jokingly asked, "Then first, I need to know if you dare to kill a Daoist Heavenly Lord from Julu Continent."
The old man laughed dryly twice.
Cui Chan turned his head to look at this old man, who looked exactly like him. In his youthful memories, the old man was also completely different—the Cui clan ancestor, leaning on a staff, old and frail, but with an elegant scholarly bearing.
The old man closed his eyes and began to seek the aura of someone in the town.
---
In Peach Leaf Alley of the town, at the Xie family's old residence.
Cao Xi came to visit.
Xie Shi was too lazy to introduce his identity, and Cao Xi was unwilling to boast about himself, so the Xie family never knew that this wealthy old gentleman was actually a Land Sword Immortal from Bodhi Continent.
Xie Shi had been waiting for definite news from the Great Li Emperor. Three people: He Xiaoliang of Divine Declaration Sect, Ma Kuxuan of True Martial Mountain, and Li Xisheng of the town—in the end, how many could be handed over?
Although they were not entirely clear about Cao Xi's background, since he was a "friend" of their ancestor Xie Shi, the Xie family dared not show any negligence.
In the main hall, Cao Xi sipped tea, glancing askance at a pair of adorable incense fire dolls hiding inside the plaque, peeking out at him.
Xie Shi was annoyed by Cao Xi's demeanor and was about to kick him out when both of them simultaneously looked toward the southwest.
Cao Xi squinted his eyes, looking somewhat gleefully malicious.
Xie Shi's expression remained calm, but inwardly he was shaken.
The aura of a ninth-level peak martial artist.
From somewhere in the southwestern mountains, someone was "patrolling" the entire town in an unrestrained manner.
Finally, they locked onto Xie Shi.
Sitting opposite him was the Sword Immortal Cao Xi, with a river as his natal flying sword tied around his wrist.
And there was another "young" swordsman who had quietly appeared in Peach Leaf Alley—the Mohist chivalrous hero Xu Ruo, with a sword behind his back, strolling leisurely.
He was not famous in Bottle Gourd Continent.
But in Central Earth Divine Continent, he was renowned. However, even in Central Earth Divine Continent, most people only knew that the Mohist hero Xu Ruo's sword emphasized defense over attack—his sword techniques were ancient, his sword qi profound, and his sword intent heavy. He was famous for his defense. But few knew that Xu Ruo's divine sword techniques were ultimately meant to kill enemies—how could they be merely for "holding a sword without losing"?
Mohist roving heroes roamed the world. Although their purpose was to help the weak and suppress the strong, whether on the rivers and lakes or on the battlefield, Mohist disciples were never weak in killing power. Thus, besides the Military Strategist school, Mohism was one of the most valued and relied-upon schools of cultivators by battlefield generals.
Now, suddenly, a pure martial artist of at least the ninth-level peak had appeared, stirring restlessly and harboring ill intentions toward Xie Shi.
Add to that the Sage Ruan Qiong, whose stance was temporarily unclear.
Xie Shi took a sip of tea and looked around.
An instant before Xie Shi set the teacup back on the table.
From the courtyard, a small yellow bird shot through the air with a whoosh. Ripples appeared in the courtyard sky and quickly subsided.
The small, cute yellow bird landed on Xie Shi's shoulder and lightly pecked at the man's clothes.
Chen Ping'an had seen this yellow bird. Qi Jingchun had seen it. In fact, many townspeople had seen it.
Cao Xi's expression showed confusion, then abruptly changed color. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his smile turned pale. He felt both awe and a trace of relief.
Xu Ruo let out a sigh and loosened the hand gripping his sword hilt. He thought that whether his sword was drawn or not, the result would be the same—it was still too slow.
Ruan Qiong only paused briefly in his forging and immediately continued burying himself in sword-making.
Only at the bamboo tower on Fallen Mountain did the old man laugh heartily, his fighting spirit surging.