Chapter 209: Also a Wooden Sword
A Liang came and went in a hurry. Chen Ping'an not only didn't think that A Liang had been punched down to the mortal world and was no longer the fierce man in his mind, but instead felt that A Liang like this was especially cool.
However, Chen Ping'an still felt somewhat regretful that he had never personally seen A Liang draw his sword to this day.
After withdrawing his gaze, Chen Ping'an took off the sword-nurturing gourd named Jiang Hu, took a light sip of wine, and couldn't help but sigh, "After practicing a million punches, I should indeed focus on practicing the sword."
After putting away the wine gourd, Chen Ping'an no longer felt so constrained. He took a deep breath, his face full of smiles, and began to practice the sword furnace stance in a completely open manner.
The sword-riding immortals passing over the town in a mighty torrent, riding the wind through the sky, stepping on swords as they traveled far, watching the tides rise and fall; a single punch from the old senior with the surname Cui caused the earth to shake and mountains to tremble; the sword immortal of Snow Wind Temple, Wei Jin, whose sword arrived before his person, illuminating heaven and earth...
Some beautiful things, if exhibited by others, after feeling envy, then go learn. As for whether you can learn, think about it after working hard.
Such a simple matter.
Having waited long without arrival, coupled with the earlier violent tremors, caused panic among the Kun ship's occupants. Chunshui feared something might happen to the observation deck, so at the risk of offending the honored guest, she passed through the study to near the threshold. Finding that the cultivator who was friends with the Great Li Northern Mountain True God had disappeared, Chunshui couldn't help but mutter inwardly that this fellow truly came and went like a ghost.
Seeing that Chen Ping'an seemed to be cultivating, Chunshui quickly turned around silently without a word. When returning to the main hall, she deliberately lightened her footsteps.
Disturbing a Qi practitioner or a pure martial artist during their cultivation is a great taboo both on and off the mountain.
The seclusion of major Qi practitioners from various continents is always a top priority for entire sects. Dajiao Mountain itself, over a hundred years ago, stirred up a huge turmoil. A 'young' elder who had gone into seclusion to break through the bottleneck to the tenth realm was, due to Dajiao Mountain's momentary negligence or perhaps because the demon's height surpassed the Dao's, infiltrated by a mortal enemy. The enemy ruined the foundation of his Great Dao, trapping him forever in the Golden Core realm. Not long after, his heart and mind decayed until they completely collapsed. A once highly regarded senior of the sect became extremely violent, often abusing concubines and maids, even severely injuring an outstanding disciple in the Sea Observation realm, nearly severing his Longevity Bridge. Finally, the Ancestor Master of Law, who had always favored him and considered him like a son, had to personally act and imprison him in the back mountain prison.
Then the Ancestor Master of Law, who had not descended the mountain for a hundred years, made a shocking decision. She went to the ancestral hall and took the founding ancestor's sword, then went down the mountain with sword in hand, stormed into the enemy's sect, and went on a killing spree. After personally bloodily avenging the enemy, she returned heavily wounded amidst loud laughter. Within less than a year of returning to the sect, she passed away.
Regarding this matter, especially whether the Ancestor Master of Law's revenge was worth it, the disciples of Dajiao Mountain only dared to discuss privately. However, the heroic spirit of the Ancestor Master of Law was also praised by even sect immortals outside Dajiao Mountain. They felt it fully embodied the style of Dajiao Mountain's founding ancestor. Afterwards, many showed goodwill towards Dajiao Mountain, which had already been stripped of the 'Zong' character.
Manager Ma, who was in charge of all matters in the Celestial Character Room, was a plump old man with various colored jade thumb rings on his fingers. He had to personally explain to the guests in each room, emphatically telling them that the strange movements of the Kun ship were not due to an attack, but merely the Kun fish's occasional mischievous play—a rare event once in a hundred years.
As for the guests in the other rooms, Dajiao Mountain did not deign to waste saliva explaining.
Qiushi opened the door. Upon hearing that Chen Ping'an was cultivating on the observation deck, the smiling Manager Ma asked the girl to pass a message that he'd be back to meet him later, no need to worry.
Before leaving at the door, Manager Ma's gaze passed over the slender shoulders of the girl in front of him and fell on her sister Chunshui, who had a fuller figure. Standing gracefully by the table, even from the front one could see the curve of her hips. The old man reluctantly withdrew his gaze and joked, "Qiushi, you need to eat more. Look how thin you are. Being too thin isn't good for a girl. If you can't bear the expense, it's fine. Old Brother Ma has enough petty cash. Feel free to come to me. Don't be polite with your Old Brother Ma, you hear?"
Qiushi agreed with a smile.
After closing the door, she sat beside her sister and couldn't help rolling her eyes. "He's an old lecher. Having him look at you once feels like a slug crawling over the back of your hand—all slimy and disgusting. And he calls himself 'Old Brother Ma'? Sister, I really want to punch his dog eyes out."
Chunshui gently teased, "You're good-looking yourself. Can't allow others to take an extra look? You sure have a young lady's temper. Do you really think of yourself as a fairy maiden in a sect? I wonder if Fairy Qiushi is close friends with that Fairy Liu from the Huangliang Pavilion on the ship? Could you help your little maid get an introduction?"
Qiushi glared and said angrily, "Sister! How can you make fun of me like that!"
Chunshui suddenly said, "This Young Master Chen from Great Li's Dragon Spring is actually an easy person to deal with."
Qiushi blinked her watery eyes. "What, are you planning to offer yourself as a pillow? He's still a little kid. Could you really take an interest?"
Chunshui sighed helplessly. "What nonsense are you talking about?"
Qiushi grinned mischievously. "I know, I know. You like that Master Han from our Dajiao Mountain, right? Of course, the sect leader's direct disciple, good talent, good looks, and friendly to everyone. Both times he went down the mountain to temper himself, he made a great name. During the triennial Dajiao Mountain celebration, you stood far away watching him spar sword techniques... tsk tsk, truly 'spring breeze blows, snow water melts'..."
Chunshui leaned forward, inadvertently pressing her chest against the table edge forming a striking curve. She reached out and patted her sister's forehead. "You're at the Second Realm, I'm at the Second Realm. Neither of us is as high in realm as he is. He was already at the Cave Abode realm three years ago. Maybe by the time we return this trip, he'll be at the Sea Observation realm."
Qiushi laughed and grabbed her sister's hand, imitating Manager Ma's tone and expression, saying improper flirtatious words, "Oh, Miss Chunshui, this little hand is so white, truly born beautiful. Even the fairies of other families who never touch spring water all year round might not look as good as you..."
Holding her sister's hand captive with one hand, Chunshui covered her mouth with the other and giggled.
The mountain path was hard to walk, but there were still some happy moments. For example, the two sisters relied on each other, leading a largely peaceful and worry-free life since childhood. In their free time, they could secretly think about lofty people and matters.
Chen Ping'an had originally walked to the threshold connecting the study and the main hall. Seeing this scene, he didn't want to disturb their warm moment and quietly withdrew to the observation deck.
From beginning to end, he was silent and invisible. The two sisters, both at the Second Realm, didn't notice him at all.
Chen Ping'an simply started practicing the stance walking on the observation deck.
The goal he set for himself—a million punches—was not one punch per count, but one complete six-step stance walk.
If he only sought speed, even if it couldn't be achieved overnight, this southward journey, spending half a day (around six hours) daily diligently practicing walking stances, plus the accumulated count from his year-long travels in Great Sui, would take about two and a half years.
But Chen Ping'an shifted to seeking slowness. Because A Liang's teaching of "Eighteen Stops," after breaking through the Six Stops barrier, presented a completely different scene compared to the first six stops. After that, it flowed like river water—slow and deep—not allowing Chen Ping'an to rush. Moreover, the principle that haste makes waste is a lesson repeatedly appearing in books, and Chen Ping'an dared not take it lightly.
So, if nothing unexpected happened, by the time he reached Daoxuan Mountain, he would not be able to complete the goal of a million punches.
This made Chen Ping'an somewhat helpless.
He had originally thought that next time they met, he would have accomplished at least one thing.
Now, when Chen Ping'an walked the stances, it was beginning to feel natural. Even when his mind was occupied with other thoughts, it didn't hinder the tempering of his body and soul through the boxing form.
Practicing boxing is like reading.
After reading ten thousand volumes, one writes like a spirit. The principles in books are indeed the teachings of sages—they don't deceive.
During a short break, Chen Ping'an leaned on the railing, gazing into the distance at the sea of clouds. The setting sun cast a golden coat over the clouds, shimmering—a magnificent sight that lifted the spirits. Earlier, when the two girls had shown him around the house, the sea of clouds had seemed like big white cotton, divided into two layers, high and low. The Kun ship sailed through it, making it feel as though the sky was not high nor the earth far away—very interesting.
Chen Ping'an slowly withdrew his gaze. The building he was in was the tallest, with the others much shorter. On the observation decks of some buildings, Qi practitioners stood scattered, also enjoying the sunset clouds. Outside the tall building, within the sturdy high railings, more people were strolling. Some children, under the watch of elders, ran around, filling the air with laughter.
Then Chen Ping'an saw a silhouette. With his current eyesight, he could clearly see that the person had a slanted bundle on his back. Under the bundle was a wooden sword. He wore an old Daoist robe, with a wooden hairpin in his bun. The young man slowly turned sideways, overlooking the land, shielding his eyes with his hand. His expression was dazed.
Although an invisible formation protected the area on the Kun fish's back, with the railings emitting faint, hard-to-notice ripples, a gentle breeze still passed through. The unremarkable young Daoist's lips were chapped; the wind blew through his temples, gently fluttering.
He too carried a wooden sword on his back.
The boy from Mud Vase Alley stood on the high observation deck, staying in a Celestial Character Room. The maids' words included stories of Jade Practice realm gods. This smallest piece of land under Haoran World might have many Qi practitioners from small sects, especially wild cultivators and wanderers struggling among mountains, rivers, and lakes—rootless duckweed drifting with the current—who could never know what the Upper Five Realms were in their lifetime.
And the young Daoist, from who knows where, stood silently at the lowest railing, starving, weighing the remaining coins in his money pouch to see if they could last until he disembarked at Nanjiang Kingdom.
Chen Ping'an stepped back a few paces and continued practicing his stances.
Leisurely and carefree, his fist intent primitive.
Chen Ping'an practiced punching and walking on the observation deck until deep night, until the moon was bright and stars sparse.
When he finally returned to the main hall, he found Qiushi dozing at the table, while Chunshui sat quietly beside her, smiling towards the study. When her eyes met Chen Ping'an's, she quickly reached out to pat her sister's shoulder. But Chen Ping'an waved his hand to indicate it was fine. Chunshui hesitated for a moment, then still woke Qiushi. The girl cleared her head and quickly turned around to wipe her mouth, so as not to appear unsightly before the guest.
The Kun ship's rules were flexible for friends of the Great Li Northern Mountain True God, but not at all lenient towards maids like them.
Chen Ping'an sat at the table, picked a fresh fruit from a celadon bowl that was emerald green and looked like an unripe citrus. When peeled, it was especially sweet. He then handed one each to the two sisters. Chunshui wanted to refuse, not willing to take it. Seeing this, Qiushi reluctantly also refused. But Chen Ping'an forcefully placed them on the table before them. They no longer insisted, because one of these Changchun oranges, a specialty of Xiancao Mountain in Juluzhou, would equal a ten-day's worth of accumulated spiritual energy from their arduous cultivation.
Cultivation has no shortcuts—that is said for talented Qi practitioners, to warn them against arrogance and impatience, to step steadily and climb step by step.
But cultivation is also full of shortcuts. This is the consensus among all wild cultivators, wanderers, and outer disciples of immortal sects with mediocre talents: as long as you have money, even eating is cultivation. With family background and talent, staying in blessed lands of abundant spiritual energy that 'come without being summoned'—even sleeping is cultivation.
For example, Chunshui and Qiushi, their hard-earned monthly salaries were either exchanged for spirit fruits like Changchun oranges or low-grade pills—each mouthful consumed with bitterness—or, with a longer view, year after year, after diligently cultivating and refining Qi, they would rack their brains, exhaust their savings, grit their teeth, and steel themselves to buy a suitable magical artifact. But it would never be a weapon that promotes slaughter, because for one thing they could never afford it, and for another it was meaningless. Instead, it would be a spirit tool capable of purifying turbid Qi, bit by bit. Talented Qi practitioners charged up the mountain in one go, breaking through realms every now and then, enviably. But they themselves climbed step by step, only ever envying others, sighing a few times, then continuing to cultivate bitterly with heads down.
But after glimpsing the truly magnificent scenery above, who would be willing to become a rich country dweller at the foot of the mountain, or a woman who manages a household well?
Of course, some Qi practitioners who are completely disheartened do descend the mountain, and some do manage to live quite well and enjoyably. This is like the 'golden juren and silver jinshi' in the secular dynasty's officialdom. Compared with the high-aspiring but low-achieving Qi practitioners on the mountain, only in terms of whether life is stressful, the former are indeed more comfortable. For example, after going down the mountain, they may be recruited by the imperial court, occupy a scenic area as local tyrants, or serve as guest retainers in big cities—all pretty good.
But these seemingly glorious and impressive Qi practitioners are ultimately disappointed people. They are not much better off than scholars who failed the imperial examinations and retired into the mountains.
Chunshui gently chewed the Changchun orange, slightly dazed. Her demeanor was not inferior to the refined girls of scholarly families, unlike her sister Qiushi, who cheerfully thought, "Why not? Free food is free food; it's foolish not to take advantage."
Chen Ping'an finished eating first and noticed Qiushi staring greedily at the orange peels on the table. "Do the peels have any use?"
Qiushi answered carelessly, "Young Master Chen, when stir-frying, tear off a few pieces of orange peel and throw them in—they smell wonderful!"
Chen Ping'an's eyes lit up. He thought, I like that! My cooking skills are actually not bad. Back when I traveled in Great Sui, the lack of ingredients along the way prevented me from showing off. Otherwise, Li Baoping and the others wouldn't have been constantly yearning for that old minister's home banquet. Even when drinking fish soup, they were listless.
Chen Ping'an smiled, grabbed two oranges, and handed them to Chunshui and Qiushi. "You two eat the oranges. Remember to save the peels for me."
Chunshui and Qiushi exchanged glances, puzzled. Could this young master, who held the Celestial Character Room's jade token, be so unconventional as to like doing his own cooking? The Confucian sages' teaching that 'a gentleman stays far from the kitchen'—did he not care about that? Chen Ping'an paid no attention to others' eyes. He put away the three sets of peels into his sleeve, not daring to store them in his cun item, and urged the sisters to hurry up and eat.
Since the honored guest was so 'unrefined,' even Chunshui felt no burden eating the Changchun orange, let alone her carefree sister Qiushi.
Chen Ping'an smiled slightly.
Chunshui suddenly felt warm inside.
So that's it.
So he's a young man who warms the heart like a spring breeze.
---
Finally, with orange peels in his sleeve, Chen Ping'an went to the bedroom to sleep. The two maids would rest in the side room adjacent to the study. They only needed Chen Ping'an to ring the silver bell at the headboard, and they would come promptly. Moreover, that string of bells was no ordinary item; if any foul wind leaked into the room, the bells would ring on their own.
Only then did Chen Ping'an take off the sword box that contained the demon-subduing swords and place it on the bed against the wall, lying stiffly on the bed that was comfortable enough to make him uneasy. But he still kept one palm on the sword box. Then he consciously slowed his breathing, using the breathing method taught by Old Man Yang.
In truth, the two flying swords in the sword-nurturing gourd, Chuyi and Shiwu, had already opened their apertures and developed intelligence. Even if Chen Ping'an slept deeply, they, who needed no sleep, could still defend against danger on their own. Yet Chen Ping'an still dared not sleep too deeply. With a light sleep, he slept until dawn. When Chunshui tiptoed out of bed, dressed, and quietly opened her door, Chen Ping'an opened his eyes immediately.
Because Chen Ping'an had long noticed a subtle difference between Chunshui's and Qiushi's footsteps.
When away from home, one cannot be too cautious.
Chunshui did not come to knock on Chen Ping'an's door to wake him. Instead, she began tidying the house in an orderly manner outside.
Only when Qiushi woke up and footsteps sounded did Chen Ping'an stop his sword furnace stance, put on his straw sandals, and get out of bed. After walking a few steps, he silently retreated back to the bedside, then walked with heavier steps toward the door. When he pulled the door open, Chunshui, who had changed into a new set of clothes today, performed a curtsy. As she turned slightly, her dress hugged her voluptuous figure even more. Chen Ping'an was taken aback and blushed, but his dark skin made it less noticeable. It wasn't that he had any improper thoughts; he just felt that Miss Chunshui's outfit was beautiful, probably made of brocade silk, but it certainly showed off her figure too much...
At that moment, Chen Ping'an made a firm resolution: If he ever found a wife, she shouldn't wear such clothes when going out. It was too disadvantageous.
Chunshui instructed Qiushi to fetch the food box from the kitchen as it was about breakfast time. She then asked Chen Ping'an whether he planned to go out today, giving him a brief introduction to the ship's entertainment spots. The floating marketplace that almost every cross-continent ship had—the place for rouge and powder—she intentionally glossed over. Besides that, there were various shops, taverns and gambling dens, weapon shops, courier stations for flying sword messages, and all sorts of other things. It was a small but complete world. Chen Ping'an was astonished—it was hardly inferior to his hometown town.
As the three ate a hearty breakfast, Chen Ping'an still had no intention of going out. He thought that after practicing his stances, he could stay in the study and read.
Chunshui and Qiushi naturally had no objections. However, Qiushi felt a bit regretful. Actually, if the room guests shopped on the Kun ship, the maids would receive commissions. In the commercial history of Dajiao Mountain's Kun ship, there had once been an astonishing feat. A maid became rich overnight. The guest she was attending was staying in the lowest-class room, yet she served him wholeheartedly, meticulous and attentive, without any neglect. Unexpectedly, that unremarkable young man turned out to be the sole heir of a top-tier immortal aristocratic family out for training. The day before disembarking, he took the maid past all the shops without even entering, and in one breath bought all the goods from every shop on that first-class Kun ship, without blinking an eye. Just the commission share alone was an astronomical fortune.
This is probably the unpredictability of life, yet green mountains are everywhere.
Chen Ping'an's life continued in such a monotonous manner. Chunshui remained as usual, while Qiushi found it somewhat boring. That young master was truly dull. Every day, either he was on the observation deck practicing strange boxing stances, back and forth, slow and easy, with no momentum at all—watching him made her drowsy—or he stood there staring at the distant clouds, or sunrise and sunset, motionless for a full hour without moving.
At most, he would read and practice calligraphy in the study. At first, Qiushi helped grind ink, but after a while, looking at his rigid, formal characters, she lost interest. Only her sister Chunshui always stood beside the boy, occasionally when her feet were sore, she would sit not far from the desk. Qiushi had privately teased her sister, saying this was "adding fragrance sleeves and grinding ink with jade hands." In scholar-beauty stories, after a few such exchanges, they would fall in love and get into bed together. Her sister Chunshui had laughed and given her a hard pinch.
Every day at meals, Chen Ping'an would ask which dynasty's territory the Kun ship was currently flying over, and would ask Chunshui and Qiushi to describe the local customs and traditions. After listening to their detailed explanations, he learned that although Baopingzhou was the smallest of the nine continents in Haoran World, it still had numerous nations. The surnames of emperors alone covered every surname in the Hundred Family Names.
Nanjiang Kingdom was located in central Baopingzhou, not far from Guanhu Academy, one of the seventy-two Confucian academies.
Speaking of Confucian academies, Chen Ping'an curiously asked why Baopingzhou only had two, counting Shanya Academy.
Qiushi burst into laughter, holding her stomach, pointing at the naive boy with one hand, and revealed the truth, "Because your Baopingzhou is just too small! Our Juluzhou alone has six, let alone the vast Central Plains."
Chunshui quietly glared at her sister, but Qiushi couldn't stop laughing. "Young Master Chen's question really is funny, isn't it?"
Chen Ping'an sat behind the desk scratching his head.
So Haoran World was this big.
One day, after finishing his stance practice on the observation deck, Chen Ping'an absentmindedly watched the clouds roll and unfurl. He saw again that young Daoist carrying a wooden sword.
Chunshui came to Chen Ping'an's side, following his gaze, and said softly, "Judging by the style of the Daoist robe, he should be a Longhu Mountain Zhang family Daoist from the Zhongtu Shenzhou (Central Earth Divine Continent). But that Daoist at the railing must be an outer disciple, otherwise he wouldn't be dressed like that."
Chunshui wanted to say "otherwise he wouldn't be so shabby and down-and-out," but the words couldn't leave her mouth.
During this ten-day period of living together, this honored guest Young Master Chen of the Celestial Character Room was also quite shabby. And Chunshui could be sure that the boy came from a genuine poor background, not one of those wealthy children who "travel incognito and roam the world" in disguise. The aura of wealth and nobility is absorbed through upbringing. Besides, the boy never pretended to be wealthy. For this prematurely mature maid, she showed nothing on her face, but deep inside there was indeed an indescribable loss.
She continued, "There is a well-known saying that spreads throughout Haoran World, both on and off the mountains: 'Wherever demons make trouble, there will surely be a peachwood Zhang Heavenly Master.'"
Chen Ping'an hummed in acknowledgment.
As if by some ghostly impulse, the down-and-out Daoist carrying the peachwood sword turned his head.
Looking at the scenery from above, the young Daoist with shallow cultivation vaguely saw the boy with a wooden sword and the charming maid beside him. He was somewhat dazed.
Poor. Hungry.