Chapter 232: Peace Year After Year
Gold City God's words carried great weight.
Even the gentlemen and worthies recognized by the Confucian academies and colleges would hardly dare to call themselves "men of virtue." The three immortalities of a scholar—establishing virtue, establishing merit, and establishing words—placed virtue first, and it was the most difficult. The vast majority of scholars spent their entire lives only to retreat to the second or even third choice.
But Chen Ping'an's current store of learning was still shallow, and he could not yet understand the deeper meaning behind Shen Wen's words spoken as a scholar rather than as a city god in the Country of Colorful Garments. As for that blue wooden box that brought him peace of mind the moment he touched it, of course Chen Ping'an liked it. Now that he knew it contained a seal personally carved by the Celestial Master of the Dragon Tiger Mountain's Seal Master, he liked it even more. Who in the world doesn't like good things? Chen Ping'an liked them a lot!
But liking something was one thing; it didn't mean he could take what others cherished. This had nothing to do with how fast Chen Ping'an could punch, how high his martial realm was, or how many flying swords he possessed. In fact, this was exactly what the Confucians advocated: restraining oneself and returning to the rites. It was just that Chen Ping'an didn't yet understand the "principle" behind it.
Shen Wen said with a smile, "Just keep the seal."
Seeing the young immortal disciple looking a bit confused, the city god Shen Wen became even more delighted. After hundreds of years of being bathed in incense and witnessing countless worshippers' various requests, demands, and ignorance, as well as their suffering, piety, and helplessness in the world, Shen Wen had transformed from a pure civil official who only knew how to serve his country with integrity into someone who understood the ways of the world more deeply. Occasionally, even a clay Bodhisattva would feel some anger—annoyed at those men and women who only burned incense and prayed to the gods without seeking to help themselves, angry at those wealthy merchants and stubborn commoners with filthy minds, and also grieving for their misfortune and frustrated at their lack of striving. With so many events and so many people surfacing in his mind just as he was about to vanish like smoke, Gold City God Shen Wen looked at the foreign young man standing outside the door, filled with mixed emotions.
Shen Wen suddenly forced a breath, stabilizing his faint and dispersing form somewhat. He said, "Shen Wen has one final request. Whether or not to do it, you can consider for yourself. Shen Wen dares not force you."
Chen Ping'an nodded and said, "City God, just say it directly."
Shen Wen asked, "If a wise and enlightened monarch ever appears in the Country of Colorful Garments in the future, could you offer some help? Even a small favor—for example, if there is a great drought or flood, and you are not far from here, could you use your divine powers to help the people of the Country of Colorful Garments safely pass through the natural disaster? Once, just once would be enough."
Chen Ping'an nodded and said, "City God, rest assured. Whether the emperor of the Country of Colorful Garments is wise or not, as long as I hear that the country is in trouble, I will definitely come on my own initiative. But let me be clear first: I will only do what is within my ability. I hope the City God understands."
Shen Wen's face was full of relief, and he murmured, "That's very good. That's already very good."
In truth, this Gold City God felt a pang of guilt in his heart, for he was calculating human nature. Shen Wen firmly believed that as long as no major mishap occurred on the path of cultivation, this young man would have a bright future ahead. The later the young man acted out of affection for the Country of Colorful Garments, the higher his realm would be, and the more beneficial it would be for the country.
Shen Wen looked at the gloomy sky outside the Earth God Temple, a bitterness in his heart. I, Shen Wen, can only do this much for the Country of Colorful Garments.
Coming back to his senses, Shen Wen smiled and said, "Earlier, about the golden body fragments, I only spoke half of it. I explained their origin and grade. As for their use, it's a bit like... a dragon-slaying skill. Extremely useful, but with a very high threshold. For ordinary people, even holding dozens or hundreds of golden body fragments would mean nothing. But if the person who has the fragments has a friend who walks the path of spirit gods, then they are a genuine priceless treasure, one of the rarest and most precious innate spiritual artifacts in the world. Or, if a ruler grants them to the mountain and river deities within his domain, it would be considered the highest favor under heaven. Setting that aside, later on, when you reach a place closer to the mountaintop, you can sell them to someone who knows their value—for example, a great cultivator at the Golden Core or Nascent Soul stage. You can ask any price you want, and no matter how high, it won't be excessive!"
Chen Ping'an looked solemn and committed everything to memory.
Shen Wen smiled and said, "Please, extend your hand."
Somewhat bewildered, Chen Ping'an reached out his hand.
Shen Wen reached out, plunged his hand into his own chest, clenched his fist, and extended it toward Chen Ping'an. Then he opened his fist and gently placed something into Chen Ping'an's palm.
It was a golden object the size of a goose egg.
Chen Ping'an looked up and blinked.
Shen Wen laughed and said, "On ancient battlefields, countless military cultivators painstakingly seek out the vengeful spirits of the battlefield. What they are really looking for are the heroic spirits and valiant souls of martyrs and war gods. I, Shen Wen, was a scholar in life. After death, the emperor of the Country of Colorful Garments appointed me as the city god of this place. My golden body is of decent quality, though it cannot compare to the city gods in the capitals of great dynasties. But this golden body... this literary courage! It is second to none among any city god in this entire continent!"
At this moment, Shen Wen seemed to have returned to the age of twenty, studying hard by the cold window for over a decade, leaping over the dragon's gate like a carp—once a farm boy in the fields, now a scholar in the imperial court at dusk. Full of high spirits, he walked at the head of the group within the imperial palace as the top scholar. He did not do it to bring glory to one family or one surname, but for the joyful faces of hundreds of families.
After handing over that golden body literary courage, the scholar-civil official Gold City God Shen Wen seemed to be relieved of a great burden. After hundreds of years of diligently protecting the local feng shui, he could finally rest well. Chen Ping'an did not withdraw his hand for a long time. Shen Wen laughed heartily, reached out a finger, and gently tapped the literary courage, smiling, "Though without the wings of a colorful phoenix to fly, our hearts are connected like a rhinoceros horn's single line. Little immortal master, read more books from now on!"
Chen Ping'an carefully put away the golden body literary courage, along with the blue wooden box, into his cunwu storage.
The young man, as a junior scholar, bowed in respect.
Shen Wen, as a fellow scholar, returned the bow.
Chen Ping'an remembered something, took a step into the Earth God Temple, and took out the pair of mountain and river seals. He said softly, "City God, my name is Chen Ping'an, from Longquan Commandery in Great Li. A certain Mr. Qi gave me this pair of seals, saying that whenever I encounter mountains and rivers, I can stamp them on a geomantic map. Earlier, at the mass grave site, the yin energy was very heavy. I asked someone from the commandery office to get a map, and I stamped it. It seemed to reverse the mountain and river qi. Now that demons and monsters are using evil methods to cause trouble in Rouge Commandery City, will these seals still be useful? Can they suppress the demonic qi they are creating?"
Shen Wen's expression turned solemn. He asked, "May I hold them?"
Chen Ping'an nodded and said, "Of course."
Shen Wen carefully took the pair of mountain and river seals with both hands, then raised one in each hand high above his head. He looked at the seal script on the bottom and the slightly soaked vermilion ink. Shen Wen took a deep breath, lowered his arms, and asked, "Did that Mr. Qi tell you that this pair of supreme magical artifacts, whose value cannot be estimated, has a flaw? Each time you stamp them, the spiritual qi dissipates a little, until it is used up completely, and they become the most ordinary pair of seals?"
Chen Ping'an scratched his head, grinning, "Mr. Qi didn't tell me any of that."
Shen Wen asked again, "Aren't you afraid that this stamping will greatly deplete the spiritual qi?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head and said, "What's there to be afraid of? It's not like I'm squandering them recklessly. Earlier, I read a travelogue published in Rouge Commandery, and I saw the phrase: 'The Yellow River is clear and the sea is calm; the seasons are harmonious and the years are bountiful.' I really liked it, so I carved it on a bamboo slip. I think this was Mr. Qi's original intention in giving me the seals. If Mr. Qi were here, he would surely do the same."
Shen Wen sighed, "It's just that this time, the demons are mostly using evil methods to bewitch people's hearts and spread plagues. Stamping these mountain and river seals is of great significance, but it is of little use in the current dangerous situation. Chen Ping'an, put the seals away. I still say this: if a wise ruler ever appears in the Country of Colorful Garments in the future, when you pass through, you can ask that emperor for a geomantic map of the capital. Stamp it, and it will benefit the country for at least a hundred years. Put them away. Remember, treasure them well. Do not show them to others lightly."
Feeling a bit disappointed, Chen Ping'an had no choice but to put the seals away again.
Watching this, Shen Wen did not know whether to laugh or cry. How could this child be so "absent-minded"? Mountain cultivators were all businessmen, pursuing profit from a small investment, or not caring about immediate gains but having long-term plans spanning thousands of miles and thousands of years. In the end, they all wanted to make a big profit.
Shen Wen's figure became even more ethereal and unstable. He said in a deep voice, "Chen Ping'an, with this demonic disturbance, as you yourself said, 'do what you can.' That is enough."
Chen Ping'an nodded, took off his gourd, and looked up at the sky outside together with the city god.
Shen Wen suddenly asked, "Great Li Longquan Commandery? Usually, prefectures and counties on the Bottle Gourd Continent don't include the character 'dragon'."
Chen Ping'an laughed and said, "My hometown used to be the Lizhu Cave Heaven. Later, the small cave heaven shattered and fell to the ground, so it was renamed Longquan Commandery."
Shen Wen was taken aback and probed, "The Mr. Qi you mentioned—could he be Mr. Qi from Shanya Academy, the most accomplished disciple of the Literary Saint?"
Chen Ping'an hummed in affirmation, his expression gloomy, "That's exactly Mr. Qi."
Shen Wen stared blankly at the young man from Great Li.
Straw sandals, a wine gourd, flying swords, seals, a childlike heart, and his name was Chen Ping'an.
Shen Wen's mouth felt dry. "Chen Ping'an, are you Mr. Qi's direct disciple?"
Chen Ping'an hesitated, then finally decided to tell the truth. "Mr. Qi was unwilling to take me as a disciple. But later, I met the Literary Saint. It seemed that Mr. Qi wanted to accept disciples on behalf of his master. However, at that time, I thought I wasn't even a scholar, so I didn't agree to become the Literary Saint's disciple. The Literary Saint wasn't angry. He was just drunk. When I carried him on my back, the old man kept patting my head and urging me to drink."
Chen Ping'an raised the gourd in his hand, grinning brightly, "So now I drink."
Scholar Shen Wen felt as if thunderbolts were crashing down on him, not just once but wave after wave.
Qi Jingchun! Qi Jingchun's junior brother! The Literary Saint! The Literary Saint's closed-door disciple!
And the young man had refused... refused...
Shen Wen stood dumbfounded.
Chen Ping'an looked blankly at the city god, wondering if he had said something wrong. He could only sneak a sip of wine to calm himself.
Shen Wen suddenly burst into laughter, a belly laugh that nearly brought tears to his eyes. He reached out and patted the young man's shoulder vigorously, "Good, good! We scholars' affairs, others certainly wouldn't understand! This is right, this is right!"
Shen Wen withdrew his hand, clasped his hands behind his back, and strode across the threshold of the Earth God Temple. "How satisfying, how satisfying! Scholars, scholars..."
He turned back and gave a thumbs-up. "Well done!"
Gold City God Shen Wen, as he stepped out the door, the last spark of divine light faded away. He laughed heartily as he vanished into the world, his entire figure shattering with a bang.
Chen Ping'an felt a pang of sadness. He tucked the gourd back at his waist and murmured to the spot where the scholar from the Country of Colorful Garments had disappeared, "Shattered peace, peace year after year."
---
After the white-robed young man was killed, no one in the Zhao Estate fell into demonic possession again. The silver-bell girl Liu Gaoxin, though still nauseous, refused to retreat to the safe commandery office. She accompanied the Jianghu master surnamed Dou in searching for any remaining fish that had slipped through the net. When they reached a certain woodshed, the door was tightly shut. The knife-wielding man frowned, kicked it open, and found a boy inside, about eight or nine years old, standing in front of a pile of firewood. The knife-wielder said indifferently, "Get out of the way! Once possessed by demons, there's no saving him."
The boy pursed his lips and shook his head stubbornly.
The knife-wielder's face turned cold. He strode forward, grabbed the boy's head, and flung him back. The boy slammed into the wall. The knife-wielder used his long blade to push aside two bundles of firewood, revealing a sallow, emaciated girl tightly bound with rope. One of her eye sockets was bleeding profusely, while the other looked normal, though her lips were a bluish-black and trembling slightly.
The knife-wielder raised his blade to strike. The boy struggled to his feet, grabbed a hatchet, and rushed in front of the girl, gritting his teeth. "If you kill her, I'll kill you!"
He spoke in flawless continental standard speech. The Zhao Estate truly was the number one noble family in Rouge Commandery; even the servant children could speak the common language of the continent.
The knife-wielder sneered, "You ungrateful brat. Do you know that your pathetic mercy today might kill thousands of people?"
The boy was thin, dressed in tattered clothes, but his eyes were resolute. "I don't care! I want to protect Luan Luan!"
The knife-wielder kicked the boy holding the hatchet away, and a swift blade aura shot toward the pitiful girl.
The silver bells jingled as the blade aura shattered the spinning golden flowers. The knife-wielder paused slightly, but the blade still left a gash an inch long on the girl's forehead.
Blocked once, the knife-wielder did not get angry. Instead, he turned to stare at the girl, asking, "Liu Gaoxin, can you save her? Do you not know the severity of demonic possession, as an accomplished qi refiner? What, when it becomes irreversible, will you be the one to execute this girl?"
Liu Gaoxin's face was pale. Her lips trembled. "I can't bear it."
The knife-wielder let out a scoff. "I suppose those possessed men outside the Zhao Estate were killed by me too quickly. Miss Liu didn't get to see them feasting on the flesh and blood of common folk."
Liu Gaoxin
The boy struggled to his feet again, his whole body aching. He could barely hold the hatchet steady; the tip shook violently. He screamed at the knife-wielder, heart-wrenchingly, "Bastard! If you've got guts, kill me first!"
The knife-wielder smirked coldly. "Killing you? What kind of skill is that?"
He was about to swing his blade again.
Liu Gaoxin turned away, her eyes red, unable to bear watching.
Someone at the door said, "Wait a moment."
The knife-wielder, his back to the door, thought for a moment, then simply sheathed his sword, turned around, and cupped his hands with a smile. "Since the immortal master has spoken, I won't meddle."
It was Chen Ping'an, who had returned to the Zhao Estate. He nodded in greeting to the knife-wielder.
Chen Ping'an strode quickly into the woodshed, crouched in front of the girl, and found that she seemed to be struggling desperately against the demonic possession within her. Even though her eye socket was bleeding, causing excruciating pain, she bit her lips tightly, not making a sound. The girl tried her best to open her normal eye, and her gaze was full of pleading. If one can live, who wants to die? Especially a child her age.
Chen Ping'an looked at the stubborn little girl. He gently patted her head and said softly, "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid. If it hurts, just cry. It's okay, it's okay."
The girl looked up, half of her small face covered in blood, at the smiling stranger. She burst into tears.
Some grievances, no matter how big or small, can only be truly understood by those who have suffered the same. Otherwise, no matter how kind and well-intentioned others may be, they might not bring true peace of mind.
Chen Ping'an untied the ropes for her, turned his back to her, crouched down, and said over his shoulder, "Come on, I'll carry you to a safe place and have someone save you."
After her two cold little hands were placed on his shoulders, Chen Ping'an said to the boy holding the hatchet, "Could you please tie us together with the rope? I'm afraid something might happen on the way, and I won't be able to take care of her. Hurry up, can you do it?"
"Yes!" The boy threw down the hatchet, roughly wiped his tears, and ran over to Chen Ping'an and the girl. With quick, nimble fingers, he tied them together.
Chen Ping'an slowly stood up and said to Liu Gaoxin and the knife-wielder surnamed Dou, "I'll take the little girl to the commandery office first. We can't delay any longer. Let's see if there's an expert there who can treat her. You two take the boy. If there are still problems in the Zhao Estate, Liu Gaoxin, you can have him wait outside the Zhao Estate gate. Is that okay?"
The knife-wielder smiled and said, "Such a small matter—let Miss Liu take him out first. I'll search the Zhao Estate alone."
Chen Ping'an turned to the boy and said, "Take care of yourself. No matter what happens, I'll come back and tell you. Alright?"
The boy raised his arm to wipe his tears and nodded vigorously.
Chen Ping'an, carrying the ice-cold little girl on his back, leaped out of the woodshed, landed on the wall, and after a few elegant, graceful bounds like a dragonfly skimming the water, he quickly reached the high wall of the commandery mansion. This time, the elite troops lying in ambush recognized Chen Ping'an's face and did not shoot arrows. They let him enter the official residence, and he hurried toward the main meeting hall.
Liu Gaoxin led the boy out of the Zhao Estate gate. The boy asked nervously, "Fairy sister, can your friend really save Luan Luan?"
It was the first time Liu Gaoxin had been called "fairy sister," and she felt a bit awkward. She forced a smile and said, "I'm no fairy sister. Don't worry—that immortal master is a true mountain immortal. He will definitely save the little girl. But... if he can't, you must not blame him, understand?"
The boy nodded, crying.
Liu Gaoxin ruffled the boy's hair and sighed softly.
When Chen Ping'an entered the main hall, besides Prefect Liu, there were two qi refiners overseeing the central hub. One was an old woman holding a long sword, with a cloth pouch hanging from her waist, its contents unknown. The other was an old man with a silver brush hanging from his belt. Both were said to be loose cultivators near Rouge Commandery, at the third realm, who had never entered a sect in their lives. They had reached this point only through luck and hard work.
Third-realm qi refiners might not even dare to breathe loudly in Longquan Commandery, but that was enough for them to dominate small countries and prefectures.
Chen Ping'an briefly explained the situation to Prefect Liu and the other two. He had already untied the rope and carefully placed the little girl in a chair. He asked, "Is there any way to save this child?"
The old woman looked displeased, but seeing that Prefect Liu said nothing, she did not overstep. She just snorted coldly, standing still with her eyes closed, choosing to ignore it.
But the old man hurried over to the chair, crouched down, and gently opened the eyelid of the girl's bleeding eye. He said in a grave tone, "This little girl has excellent talent—a pair of yin and yang eyes by nature. One eye can see the flow of spiritual qi in the world, and the other can see ghostly apparitions at night. She had the potential to embark on the path of cultivation. But the pearl was tarnished—she never met a talent scout—so she suffered this calamity. This yin eye has become a breeding ground for dense demonic obstacles, like a small mass grave full of miasma. Even a robust young man with strong yang qi would be howling in pain. Poor child."
As the old man took her pulse, he looked up and carefully examined the bloodstained eye socket. "This little one's will to live is very strong. She urgently needs elixirs rich in yang qi... No, even if we give her the best matching top-grade elixir, swallowing it won't be able to dispel the accumulated miasma in this yin eye. It's difficult, very difficult. I only have a Spring Wind Pill on me that strengthens the foundation and consolidates the yuan. It can only temporarily help maintain her life force. What she really needs is... a talisman, and one of very high grade. It needs to draw spiritual qi from the yang eye and channel it into the yin eye, balancing yin and yang. Only then, with her own perseverance and luck, can she hope to survive. But where can we find such a talisman? Even if I give her the pill to prolong her life, time is running out."
As he spoke, the old man took a small red sandalwood box from his sleeve, opened it to reveal a fragrant green pill, and fed it to the girl without hesitation.
Crouching beside him, Chen Ping'an asked quietly, "Senior, would a Yang Qi Lamp-Lighting Talisman work?"
The old man was first surprised, then smiled bitterly, "It would work, of course it would! In this world of countless talismans, the Yang Qi Lamp-Lighting Talisman is of very high grade and is exactly one of the most suitable talismans. Its effects are immediate. But do you really have one? Not a fake? You know, there are many qi refiners with lard-covered hearts who produce countless imitations of this talisman, passing off inferior goods as superior—most often using 'Yang-Borrowing Talismans' and selling them at a hundred times the price..."
Chen Ping'an said in a deep voice, "I have one!"
He stood up. "I'll be back soon."
The old man was not surprised, but he reminded him, "Hurry."
It was natural for qi refiners not to reveal their assets in front of outsiders.
Prefect Liu bent down, glanced at the girl's pitiful condition, then quickly looked away and went back to studying the situation map at the table.
The old woman with the sword opened her eyes, shot a glance at the boy's back, and let out a snicker.
Chen Ping'an quickly found a secluded corridor, leaned against a pillar, and sat cross-legged. From his flying sword Fifteen's cunwu storage, he took out the "Wind and Snow Little Awl" that Li Xisheng had given him and a talisman made of golden material.
From the battle with Ma Kuxuan in the small alley, to the great battle in the City God Hall against the dried-bone enchanting ghost, and then the possessed Gold City God, Chen Ping'an's physical body and spirit were currently at their last gasp, just as Liu Gaoxin had thought. He was in dire need of rest and recuperation. It was like walking a mountain path: the first half was easy, but the farther you went, the more difficult and heavy it became. In the final stretch, even taking one more step might feel like carrying a mountain on your shoulders, each step arduous.
Chen Ping'an took a deep breath, bent over, and held the Wind and Snow Little Awl, which was carved with the characters "inspiration flows like writing." His vision blurred slightly, and he gently shook his head. Back in his hometown, as a dragon kiln apprentice, when making porcelain by pulling clay on the wheel, the thing he feared most was even the slightest error. A single mistake could mean that the piece in his hands would become an ornament in the imperial palace or a worthless shard of old porcelain discarded on the kiln mountain.
Chen Ping'an tried to steady his breathing and began drawing the talisman using a martial artist's true qi. A qi refiner's energy could circulate endlessly, continuously. Drawing a talisman, though requiring one uninterrupted stroke, was still much simpler for a qi refiner than for a pure martial artist. For Chen Ping'an, whose Longevity Bridge had long been shattered and broken, drawing a spiritually vibrant talisman required a great deal of mental and spiritual energy, no less than the twenty-one consecutive punches of the Divine Man Drumming style.
He drew the talisman stroke by stroke, neither too fast nor too slow.
In that secluded corridor, unknown to anyone.
The young man, holding the Wind and Snow Little Awl, bent over and drew the talisman. His brushwork was steady, but blood slowly flowed from his seven orifices.
As for whether it was worth spending a golden talisman, whose value he already roughly knew, on a little girl he had never met before, Chen Ping'an did not think about it.
Would he regret it afterward? Chen Ping'an, a bit of a miser, would surely feel some heartache. But that would be a matter for later. When the time came, he would deal with it then. At worst, he could drown his sorrows with some wine.
A Yang Qi Lamp-Lighting Talisman drawn on golden talisman paper—done!
Chen Ping'an wiped away the blood, his steps unsteady as he rushed back to the main hall of the official residence. When he handed the talisman to the old man, the old man froze, then took the talisman with both hands in disbelief. The rich spiritual qi within it almost seemed to burst out of the golden paper. The old man asked uncertainly, "Shall I use it, then?"
Chen Ping'an nodded and said with a smile, "Use it!"
The old man crouched down, holding the Yang Qi Lamp-Lighting Talisman between two fingers, and called out softly, "Rise, talisman!"
The golden talisman did not move, showing no reaction at all.
Embarrassed and flushed red, the old man mobilized all the qi in his body and shouted again, "Rise!"
Only then did the golden talisman burst into flames, but it did not burn to ashes. Instead, a large mass of golden spiritual light emerged.
Prefect Liu, who did not understand the true mystery, watched in wonder. The old woman holding the sword nearly popped her eyes out.
The old man dared not relax in the slightest. He forced himself to maintain the flow of qi, raised his other hand, joined two fingers, and pointed at the thick golden light flowing like water. His lips moved slightly: "Divide yin and yang, merge water and fire, go!"
A trace of golden light went to the girl's bleeding yin eye, while the vast majority of the golden light poured into her yang eye.
Soon, it could be clearly seen that a small bridge of golden threads had formed between her eyes, with the golden light slowly flowing from the left eye to the right.
The girl was in such pain that she bit through her lips, her hands gripping the armrests of the chair tightly. Her small, thin body shook violently, her face contorted in agony. Chen Ping'an gently grabbed one of her hands and, whether she could hear him or not, kept comforting her softly: "Hold on, you can live. Living is more important than anything. Believe in yourself—if you live, you will have everything..."
Unable to contain her curiosity, the old woman walked behind the old man and Chen Ping'an, bent down, and carefully examined the flow of the golden thread across the girl's nose bridge.
She smiled and said, "So you truly are a sword immortal who has achieved great cultivation."
Her face was wrinkled like chicken skin, old and decrepit, but at this moment, her eyes were as bewitching as those of a seductive woman, full of charm.
She had already sensed the instant change in the young man carrying the box.
But she laughed heartily and leaped backward, dropping the long sword in her arms without hesitation. She stopped at the doorway, took off the cloth pouch from her waist, raised her hand, and said in a coquettish voice, "This sword immortal, do you feel that your internal qi has become stagnant? Hehe, don't be nervous. It's just a little something I specially prepared for you: 'Heavy Snow Blocking the Pass.' Odorless and tasteless. It's very easy for anyone below the Dragon Gate realm to fall for it. No shame in that! It only lasts half an incense stick—your qi sea will freeze, your qi will be uncontrollable, and your spirit will feel like it's freezing, so you won't be able to command your flying sword with your mind. Of course, if you can endure half an incense stick, you can go back to being a sword immortal."
The old man, a third-realm qi refiner, was a universe away from the middle-five-realm Dragon Gate realm and had already fallen for it. His face was as yellow as gold paper, utterly beaten. The moment the "old woman" leaped backward, his head lolled to the side, and he collapsed unconscious.
Fortunately, the matter with the little girl was already resolved. Otherwise, they might have died together. This was, of course, the result of the "old woman's" extreme caution. Her true target was the young man carrying the box.
The head of a sword immortal boy—that would earn her a Xuan-grade magical artifact from the imperial treasury of the Ancient Elm Kingdom!
A sure thing.
The old woman tore off the face covering her skin, a sticky mess, and threw it away, revealing the mature, beautiful face of a woman. Not only that, but her body twisted and returned to its normal, voluptuous form. She was a qi refiner from the Ancient Elm Kingdom, a venomous lady skilled in poisons.
She turned her head and said with a smile, "Brother Dou, it's your turn. I'm weak, not like you, the Lord of the Maidu Tower, with your robust constitution. Even if a sword immortal's flying sword stabs you twice, you can withstand it. But even though this sword immortal is now just an ordinary person, he might still have some hidden trump card. I can't afford to take the hit."
The Jianghu master surnamed Dou slowly stepped to the threshold.
The knife-wielder looked at the young man standing up with a box on his back, his expression emotionless. "Chen Ping'an, I'm sorry. Our national prelate wants your head. If we had met on the martial world's road, you and I might have shared a drink. But not now. Along with you, all three people in this room must die."
Chen Ping'an looked at the man and woman at the door, twitched the corner of his mouth, and said nothing.
It was as if he were saying: You yourself told me that mountain people have no ethics, that they are used to treating life like grass. But you people of the mundane world—are you any better?
The man laughed it off, drew his blade, and strode across the threshold. "The wine in your gourd—I'll drink it for you later."
Prefect Liu was completely bewildered.
What was happening now?
Chen Ping'an remained standing where he was.
Earlier, one assassin from the Ancient Elm Kingdom had been killed by Ma Kuxuan's master, the Zhenwu Mountain sword cultivator. Now two had come at once. He just didn't know if there was a fourth.
Chen Ping'an spoke: "Since you've already seen my hand..."
He paused, then suddenly smiled. "Chuyi, Shiwu, this time we need to make an entrance. Let's look good."
The poisonous-hearted woman from the Ancient Elm Kingdom clicked her tongue. "Oh, sword immortal, still struggling? Don't you know that our Lord of the Maidu Tower, known for his thousand faces, is most adept at dealing with mountain immortals of the middle five realms? Usually, he might not get the upper hand, but today, within half an incense stick, twisting your neck off will be no trouble at all."
Chen Ping'an ignored the woman's sarcastic tone and quietly regulated his qi.
A brilliant white rainbow and an emerald green glow shot out of the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, hovering near his left and right shoulders.
The woman was horrified, her voice trembling. "Impossible! How can you still summon your flying swords!"
Even the knife-wielder, who had seen many storms, had to stop and switch from a one-handed grip on his blade to a two-handed hold.
Chen Ping'an looked at his two flying swords and asked with a smile, "Shall we go together? Kill the one who talks the most first. I'll handle the one who talks less."
The Lord of the Maidu Tower, famous for assassinations across several kingdoms, did not dare rush forward.
Chen Ping'an had already begun to move forward. With one step, the ground shattered beneath him.
At the same time, a white and an emerald streak shot across the air of the main hall, instantly passing the knife-wielder.
The woman screamed, spun on her toe, and leaped into the air, ready to flee far away. She never wanted to see that monster in the form of a young man again.
The woman's graceful figure in the air paused twice, once before and once after. Then she fell heavily to the ground.
At her heart and at her forehead, blood slowly seeped out in droplets.
The knife-wielder roared, gripping his blade with both hands. The man, whose aura had peaked, did not advance but retreated. The calves of his legs suddenly flashed with spiritual light. He leaned back and flew backward, his body crashing straight through the screen wall outside the door, blasting through a wall. Covered in dust, the top assassin's palm gleamed with talismanic enhancements. He slammed the ground heavily, and his form vanished instantly.
Chen Ping'an slowed down, walked to the threshold, looked around, and finally pointed in a distant direction. "There."
Flying low, Chuyi and Shiwu almost simultaneously shot toward the direction Chen Ping'an had pointed.
The hard blue brick floor seemed to ripple like waves for a moment, then finally returned to calm.
Only then did Chen Ping'an cover his mouth with his hand, leaning his shoulder against the threshold, swallowing the blood that surged to his throat. He took off the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, and the two flying swords flew back into it. He took a light sip of wine—it was the eight-copper-per-catty local spirit. The taste was really not bad. He just wondered what the ten-silver-per-catty specialty wine of Rouge Commandery tasted like.