Chapter 233: The Dust Settles
(The cold has finally healed, sorry to have kept you all waiting.)
A voice tinged with respect and awe sounded from behind, "Young Master Chen, what exactly is happening here?"
It was Prefect Liu coming back to his senses.
Regarding matters of mountain gods, spirits, and demonic entities, Prefect Liu's son Liu Gaohua could only glean fragments from literary notes and strange tales. But Prefect Liu was different—after all, he was a high-ranking official governing an entire commandery's livelihood, and Rouge Commandery was one of the premier commanderies of the Colored Garment Kingdom. He had long known many inside secrets about various dark affairs. At the very least, matters concerning the City God Pavilions of prefectures and commanderies, mountain gods, and water spirits were things Prefect Liu had to be clear about. The Ministry of Rites of the imperial court had special personnel to explain these arcane intricacies to regional high officials.
Chen Ping'an slightly stabilized his qi sea, tucked his Sword Nurturing Gourd properly into place, and turned to look at Prefect Liu. He opened his mouth as if to speak but then hesitated.
This battle he had won was truly perilous. In truth, after the fight at the City God Hall and after drawing the talisman for the little girl, his body had already been at its limits. Although he could control two flying swords of special origins without consuming what qi refiners called spiritual qi—this was true, because he was "inviting" the two little overlords from the Sword Nurturing Gourd to help him vanquish demons and exterminate evil—their minds communicated, their spirits intertwined. That was why the Scorpion Lady's trump card, her carefully concocted "Snow Blocking the Pass," was meaningless against Chen Ping'an. However, inviting Chuyi and Shiwu out still consumed Chen Ping'an's mental and spiritual energy. If that assassin from the Buyi Tower who called himself Dou had not been frightened off, Chen Ping'an would very likely have had his head taken, or they would have ended up mutually wounded. Then not only would Chen Ping'an's Long Life Bridge have been severed, but even his path as a pure martial artist would have become shattered and broken, because his physical foundation and spiritual root had been damaged.
Chen Ping'an didn't know how to explain it for the moment—too many secrets were involved. Fortunately, Prefect Liu saw that this immortal master looked troubled and refrained from pressing further. Mountain immortals walking the mortal world actually had many rules and taboos as well. Prefect Liu had enough common sense to know this. As long as he confirmed that the young sword immortal before him was "one of their own"—wasn't he his son Liu Gaohua's friend? That was enough!
After exchanging a few pleasantries with Prefect Liu, Chen Ping'an turned and walked toward the old man. He crouched down to help take the pulse of this kind-hearted qi refiner. The pulse was steady; there should be no major problem. Once the effects of that "Snow Blocking the Pass" medicine wore off, he would soon wake up. Chen Ping'an suddenly looked up and saw the little girl staring at him with big, curious eyes.
Her naturally Yin-Yang Vision eyes, under the pull of the Gold Yang Lamp Talisman, were currently flowing with a faint golden radiance.
Chen Ping'an smiled, reached out to help wipe the blood off her face, and comforted her, "It's fine now. Does it still hurt?"
The little girl's lips curved upward, and two shallow dimples appeared on her cheeks.
Chen Ping'an helped the old man up and placed him in a chair, then walked toward the door. Prefect Liu figured that staying close to this sword immortal was the safest option for now, so he followed closely behind Chen Ping'an as they crossed the threshold of the main hall. Chen Ping'an walked over to the Scorpion Lady's corpse and, from the plain white cotton pouch at her waist, found a small powder-blue ceramic brush washer. Inside it coiled a tiny white snake, no more than an inch long and extremely slender, rearing its head and frantically flicking its tongue at the sky, though it was all bluster. There was also a pitch-black scorpion lying sickly on its stomach; upon closer inspection, its body frame resembled an ink-colored pipa.
A thought stirred in Chen Ping'an's mind. Having Chuyi and Shiwu decimate a powerful enemy was wishful thinking, but having them come out to show off a bit of authority was not difficult.
Chuyi transformed into a streak of white rainbow light, shot out of the Sword Nurturing Gourd, and plunged straight into the antique brush washer, hovering above the two little creatures. The little white snake trembled in fear, its slender body pressing against the inner wall of the brush washer. The little black scorpion even made a human-like gesture of covering its head. Chuyi slowly circled inside the brush washer, like a military general patrolling his territory, full of imposing presence.
At that moment, Prefect Liu had lost all official authority and scholarly refinement. He just crouched down beside Chen Ping'an, marveling, "Truly a true sword immortal and a true immortal sword!"
Chen Ping'an stood up, holding the brush washer, and focused his gaze. Only then did he notice that around the outer bottom edge of the brush washer, there were tiny characters drifting slowly like tadpoles, as restless as a group of lively, playful children circling around. There were sixteen characters in total: Spring Flowers Autumn Moon, Spring Breeze Autumn Tree, Spring Mountain Autumn Stone, Spring Water Autumn Frost.
Chen Ping'an smiled knowingly, remembering the pair of sisters he met on the Kunpeng Ship. The older sister, Spring Water, had a steady temperament; the younger sister, Autumn Fruit, was more childish. Chen Ping'an couldn't help but look up toward the southern sky, wondering if they had reached Old Dragon City by now. If they could meet again, Chen Ping'an would really like to give this beautiful little brush washer to them. It was a pity that the brush washer had "Spring Water" but not "Autumn Fruit"—one character missing, unable to complete the pair perfectly. That would have been even better.
But Chen Ping'an didn't yet know that some pities were unavoidable imperfections, and some pities were lasting regrets.
Chen Ping'an said, "Prefect Liu, the dead should be respected. Could you help have this woman's body enshrined, and find a place to bury her when there's an opportunity? I'll cover all the expenses."
Prefect Liu smiled and said, "Such a small matter, no need for Young Master Chen to trouble himself. Leave it all to the commandery government; it will be handled properly."
Prefect Liu's smile faded as he tentatively asked, "But about this demonic disturbance, that old bastard surnamed Huang harbored malicious intentions. Might we still need Young Master Chen's flying sword to suppress the demons?"
Chen Ping'an smiled wryly and said, "I need a large bucket full of boiling hot water for now. As for medicinal herbs, I have my own. I need to soak for at least several hours to recuperate."
Prefect Liu nodded and said, "Of course, of course. I'll have the mansion servants prepare it immediately. Young Master Chen's health is of utmost importance. The safety of over a hundred thousand people in Rouge Commandery now rests on Young Master Chen alone. There must be no mistakes. I'll go make the arrangements right away..."
Prefect Liu hurried off. The implication of his words—this fourth-rank regional official of the Colored Garment Kingdom—was not at all roundabout; it was quite straightforward. Chen Ping'an, though not versed in officialdom, naturally understood. But he could neither pat his chest to guarantee anything nor back out at the last moment, so he just smiled bitterly and said nothing.
Aside from sending his sword, for everything else, Chen Ping'an had only four words: within his ability.
It was the same for Gold City God Shen Wen, and it was the same for this feudal lord governing a region.
Finally, in a quiet room, Chen Ping'an immersed himself completely in a large medicinal barrel. The herbs were those given by Wei Po before leaving Dragon Spring Commandery—enough for three uses. Wei Po could certainly have provided more, given that the Northern March God had ample silver and that the Oxhorn Mountain Burden-Sack Shop had plenty of heavenly treasures and earthly rarities. However, Wei Po hadn't prepared too much at once. At the time, he joked that providing too many would be a bad omen, as if deliberately not wishing someone well. He still hoped that Chen Ping'an, on this journey through the martial world, would have smooth sailing all the way and that he wouldn't get injured more than three times—a way to court good fortune.
Before entering this room, Chen Ping'an had asked Prefect Liu to help keep the secret and not reveal that he was a "sword immortal." Prefect Liu nodded knowingly and agreed readily, stopping just short of swearing an oath.
He also handed Prefect Liu the Spirit Movement Talisman, asking him to return it to his friend, the Daoist Zhang Shan.
During the soaking process, Chen Ping'an clearly sensed a tremendous upheaval coming from the City God Hall in Rouge Commandery City. But since he couldn't attend to it, he simply didn't dwell on it. He focused on warming his qi, combining the Eighteen Stops of Sword Qi taught by A Liang and the breathing techniques taught by Old Man Yang, concentrating in meditation inside the bucket. His hands formed the Sword Furnace Seal from the Felling Mountain Fist Manual, like a withered tree in winter quietly awaiting the spring breeze's caress.
That night, Rouge Commandery was still filled with continuous fighting. On one hand, the demons had successfully activated the formation, and people in various places were possessed by demonic influences. The commandery government was stretched thin dealing with it. On the other hand, it was both a good thing and a disaster. The good thing was that General Ma at the East City Gate sent a secret message: the old demon Huang, disguised as an immortal, for some reason had turned against three others at the City God Hall, fighting a chaotic battle. The disaster arose from this, as the four fought without restraint, unleashing a succession of house-protecting treasures and sinister spells. Hundreds of buildings were damaged, and civilian casualties were severe. The elite cavalry under General Ma, which had rushed from their garrison to reinforce Rouge Commandery City, couldn't very well ride through the streets, so they dismounted to fight on foot. Each wore iron armor and carried strong bows and crossbows. But against those four mountain-cultivating demon overlords, only the dozens of specially crafted arrows stored in the commandery government's arsenal posed any real threat. The other bows and crossbows either couldn't keep up with the four's rapid movements, or their arrows were scattered and brushed aside by a wave of a sleeve before they could get close. Some arrows were even caught and thrown back by the four demons during lulls in the fighting, causing over eighty more casualties among the elite troops.
It was utterly impossible even to trade wounds for kills.
General Ma indeed deserved the title of "fearless." Brave and skilled on the border battlefield, even when facing these cultivators, he led from the front. Together with his lieutenant, he found several opportunities to corner a lone demon and engage in close combat. Later, the "Old Immortal Huang" and Old Demon Mi, their eyes bloodshot from killing, temporarily ceased their own battle and jointly severely wounded General Ma and his lieutenant. If not for over a dozen personal guards intercepting with Mo-sect special arrows and several others sacrificing their lives to protect them, neither would have escaped the battlefield alive; they would have died within Rouge Commandery City that night.
In the latter half of the night, the "Old Immortal Huang," fighting one against three, was sprinkled with a handful of "white rice" on his head by Old Demon Mi. His entire body instantly hissed and emitted green smoke, his flesh and blood blurred, burned into countless bloody holes. He could only escape by burrowing into the ground. The three demons began to hunt him down, mercilessly killing any commandery constables or armored soldiers who dared block their way.
At dawn, when Chen Ping'an finished dressing and stepped out of his room, he found Liu Gaoxin sitting at the end of the corridor on a small stool, dozing off.
The girl was a light sleeper and quickly woke up. Afraid she might have drooled while sleeping, she quickly turned her head away to wipe her face.
She had actually only returned to the official residence a short while ago. She had changed into clean clothes and then came here to sit as a gatekeeper.
Chen Ping'an walked with her toward the main hall, asking and answering questions. From her, he got a general understanding of the commandery city's recent developments. Hearing about the demons' internal conflict, he found it somewhat incredible, but the fighting was undoubtedly real. Although he didn't know the twists and turns behind it, as long as it benefited Rouge Commandery, it was ultimately a good thing. However, the additional unintended casualties were something no one could control.
As Cui Chan had said, there is one thing in this world that is most formidable: those who follow it prosper, those who oppose it perish.
At the time, the drifting white-robed young National Teacher had deliberately kept a suspense, but it was like casting pearls before swine—Chen Ping'an hadn't wanted to take the bait, so young Cui Chan had to answer his own question, calling it "the Great Tide."
Thus was the Great Tide.
Cui Chan also said that the flourishing and withering of the great field of the human world depended on the direction of certain great tides.
Chen Ping'an had no interest in these arcane ramblings of Cui Chan at the time, because he completely didn't understand them. In fact, he was also afraid of falling into that guy's trap.
Although Lin Shouyi, Li Huai, and Yu Lu Xian Xie weren't particularly close to Cui Chan, deep down they all probably held considerable awe, even admiration, for this person.
Of course, the girl in the red cotton-padded jacket, Li Baoping, was definitely not among them. It was young Cui Chan who was afraid of her.
Through Liu Gaoxin's words, Chen Ping'an learned that the commandery city was engulfed in flames of war everywhere. Martial heroes and mountain cultivators, including Xu Yuanxia and Zhang Shanjing, would come back briefly for rest and wound dressing, then immediately go out again to suppress demonic influences everywhere. During this time, Xu Yuanxia and Zhang Shanjing had even faced off against a young demonic expert, probably one of the key figures in setting up the formation. The two sides fought for less than the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, with dangers at every turn. The big-bearded man had a large chunk of flesh torn from his shoulder by his bare-handed opponent. Later, Chongmiao Daoren arrived with his Brass Strongman to reinforce them, forcing the ferocious demon to retreat.
Moreover, her sister and brother, for some unknown reason, had supposedly left the city safely but then returned home with her master. After a closed-door discussion with their father in the study, the master took her elder sister and second brother to the back courtyard, as if something very strange had happened. It was unclear whether it was good or bad—if good, everyone would be delighted; if bad, all would be lost. In any case, her father and master didn't want the girl Liu Gaoxin involved. She was too busy running around putting out fires that night to care.
Furthermore, the little girl from the Zhao residence whom Chen Ping'an had saved, and the stubborn boy who depended on her, had been arranged to stay in the Prefectural Mansion.
As Chen Ping'an and Liu Gaoxin neared the main hall, they noticed the tense atmosphere. They quickened their pace and entered, finding the room thick with the smell of blood. An old Daoist in tattered robes was slumped in a chair, his face covered in blood, hair disheveled, blood flowing from his chest. He was covered in wounds, impossible to bandage. His breath was barely coming in—a bleak state of dying. Prefect Liu, Xu Yuanxia, the Daoist Zhang Shanjing, and an old man with a brush hanging from his waist were all gathered around the old Daoist. The old man who had previously saved the little girl was gently shaking his head at everyone, his face full of bitterness and guilt. Prefect Liu also let out a long sigh.
The dying old Daoist was none other than Chongmiao Daoren, who had first given an impression of arrogance and mercantilism.
The old man showed signs of a brief rally. His originally blurred vision gradually brightened. He raised his head and smiled at Prefect Liu, "Prefect Liu, if this time the immortal master from the Spirit Rhinoceros Sect saves Rouge Commandery and eliminates all the demons big and small, I'll have to trouble you, the parent-official, to take extra care of my dozens of family members from now on."
Prefect Liu nodded and said solemnly, "Rest assured, Daoist Chongmiao. Even if I am no longer serving in Rouge Commandery in the future, I will make sure the new commandery prefect knows about today's battle and your contributions to Rouge Commandery. In short, I will never let your family suffer any injustice."
The old Daoist struggled to clasp his hands in thanks, then turned to the young Daoist Zhang Shanjing, whose eyes were slightly red, and smiled, "Zhang Shan, if it weren't for you being stupidly reckless with your life, I probably would have been killed on the spot by that demon. Maybe he would have even escaped. I wouldn't have had the glory of killing that demon with my own hands this time..."
The old Daoist began to cough violently. Everyone urged him not to speak anymore.
The big-bearded man Xu Yuanxia asked softly, "Elder Daoist, should we call your younger family members here?"
The old Daoist nodded.
Prefect Liu then ordered servants to go notify the elder's direct family members in the commandery city.
Relying on the sudden spike of energy, the old Daoist silently calculated in his heart the time and distance for his family to rush over. After resting in silence for a moment, he looked around at everyone and slowly smiled, "I actually know that you all looked down on me before. I'm the type to take advantage of a fire to rob. But business is business. For cultivators, there's no shame in talking about trade, and it's disgraceful to be embarrassed to talk about money. There's no other way. We wilderness cultivators have no big tree to shelter under, no ancestral grace from a sect's founding master to protect us. We can only rely on ourselves to earn money, to strive for that one thread of opportunity. If not like this, how could we carry on?"
Having said this, the old Daoist fell silent again, his expression dazed, as if recalling the ups and downs of his life.
After a long while, the old Daoist withdrew his thoughts and suddenly sighed, "But business must be done. However, for cultivators, this 'person' also has to be made, right?"
The old Daoist coughed and laughed to himself, "But maybe my aptitude is too poor. I knew early on that the Great Dao was hopeless for me, so I have such naive and laughable thoughts. True mountain cultivators, where would they be covered in the stench of money? And where would they have time to care about the life and death of ordinary folk below?"
The old Daoist stared blankly toward the door, as if searching for those familiar figures. He muttered, "Called Chongmiao Daoren all my life, never changed a single character, never respectfully addressed as 'Chongmiao True Person.' A regret! A great regret!"
As soon as he said "regret," the old man's vitality seemed to collapse. His vision blurred, his breathing grew extremely weak, and his voice faded to near inaudibility. "Why aren't they here yet..."
In the end, the old man never waited for his family to arrive. He just leaned back against the chair and passed away quietly.
It wasn't that he died with his eyes open in discontent, nor did he close them peacefully. He was just like an old man squinting into the distance, wanting to see something but unable to make it out clearly.
The whole room fell silent.
Chen Ping'an walked over and helped wipe the blood off the old Daoist's face.
Not long after he finished, Chongmiao Daoren's family descendants rushed in—over a dozen people, men, women, young, and old. Prefect Liu briefly explained the process, including the promise he had made to the old Daoist, which he also publicly stated to those descendants.
The old Daoist's eldest son, a potbellied middle-aged man, was naturally grateful to the Prefect. The women mostly sobbed and choked back tears.
But a boy just over ten years old suddenly rushed out and angrily demanded of everyone, "Why is my grandfather the only one who died?"
The boy, his face full of hatred and anger, stared with eyes like a jackal and roared, "Answer me!"
The big-bearded man Xu Yuanxia frowned slightly.
The Daoist Zhang Shanjing turned to look at the pale, deceased old Daoist, sighed inwardly. Some answers, if spoken, would truly be hurtful. The old Daoist had initially wanted to claim all the merit for himself, falling into a demon's trap of feigning weakness. He acted recklessly and ventured deep. If he and Xu Daxia hadn't acted out of their sense of martial righteousness and risked their lives to save him, the outcome would have been worse than it was.
But the old Daoist had selfish motives, it was true. However, this selfishness was only human nature. From yesterday to now, fighting all the way until his glorious death, it wasn't something that could be explained away simply as "business is business." A land raises a people. If the old Daoist didn't have the most sincere feelings for Rouge Commandery's soil, he would never have fought so desperately.
Human feelings and worldly affairs are the hardest to reason with.
Because if you truly try to break them down and reason them out, it's like separating wine and water—it loses all flavor.
The furious boy pointed at everyone and shouted, "You are all murderers!"
The old Daoist's eldest son quickly had his wife pull back the deranged boy and apologized to Prefect Liu and everyone else.
Prefect Liu's expression remained unchanged. He said that children's words were harmless and that he didn't mind. He even apologized to the man in turn, saying that this time he had indeed failed as a commandery prefect, bringing shame to their family and causing them to lose a pillar. He promised to personally visit and apologize later, and so on.
But how the parent-official truly felt, and whether the bond of goodwill between Chongmiao Daoren and the commandery government would be diminished as a result, only heaven knew.
Thus, even when ancestral blessings and fortunate connections are handed down to descendants, each person still has their own fate. Some can grasp it, some cannot. Some grasp more, some less. And such matters are often completely unknown to those involved at the moment; they can only act according to their own nature.
---
In a dark alley in Rouge Commandery, a youth, though plainly dressed, had rosy lips and white teeth, a face as delicate as a young girl. He sat leaning against the wall, holding in his arms a dying man who was constantly vomiting blood. Beside them crouched another man keeping watch. The three were all shop assistants from the rice shop, disciples of Old Demon Mi. The youth was a local of Rouge Commandery, only newly accepted as a disciple by Old Demon Mi last year.
The senior brother in the youth's arms was the demonic cultivator who had exchanged lives with Chongmiao Daoren. True to being a demon, he grinned and, with his last breath, said, "Little Junior Brother, between me and your Second Senior Brother, who do you like better?"
The youth gently supported the man's chin with one hand, lowered his head, his eyes full of affection, and choked out, "You, of course."
The man reached into his bosom, pulled out a yellowed book, and tremblingly handed it to the handsome youth.
After the youth took the secret manual, the man in his arms had already died. The youth clutched the manual tightly, raised it high, called out "Second Senior Brother," and turned around.
The other man's attention was almost entirely on the manual.
The youth suddenly accelerated his turn, holding the book in one hand and thrusting the other swiftly toward the Second Senior Brother's neck—it was a sleeve blade.
Thrust in, pull out, repeated three times. The man's neck was practically shredded. The youth's handsome face was splattered with blood, a smile full of amusement on his lips.
The man grabbed his neck, slumped against the wall, and stared wide-eyed at the little junior brother who had suddenly attacked.
The youth first put away the manual, wiped his face, and kept wiping the blood onto the man's clothes. Then he pulled out another book from the man's bosom and giggled, "Second Senior Brother, I lied to Senior Brother just now. I actually like you a bit more. But of course, I like myself the most. Senior Brother always said that if a man doesn't look out for himself, heaven and earth will destroy him. Although that weird-tempered stinking master of ours always mocks Senior Brother for being uneducated and not knowing the true meaning of that saying, I think Senior Brother understood it pretty well. Anyway, I think so too. Besides, we're already heretics and devils from the start, so Second Senior Brother, don't blame me. At worst, just think of it as accompanying Senior Brother on the Yellow Springs Road. When you get down there, tell Senior Brother that I actually did like him a bit more..."
The man died with his eyes open in outrage.
The youth kept muttering, shaking his head, feeling around the two corpses to see if there were any missed hidden spirit artifacts, just like a boy humming a tune while picking vegetables.
But soon the youth stiffened. He stopped his hands and obediently took out two books from his bosom, placing them on his head.
A hoarse voice, familiar to the youth down to his bones, with an even more familiar tone of mockery, sounded above him. "What a promising disciple you are. Truly worthy of being my, Old Demon Mi's, outstanding apprentice. You've barely learned a few skills, but you've already acquired several pounds of the demeanor of a great demon."
The youth's teeth chattered. This time he was truly scared.
The tall, thin old man turned and spat out a mouthful of blood. When the blood hit the wall, it immediately turned into a mass of black blood mist.
This Old Demon Mi, who had been lying low in Rouge Commandery City for nearly twenty years, cursed under his breath, "Fine, you old Glass Immortal Chen Xiaoyong! Even if you escape Rouge Commandery this time, I'll still beat you like a dog in the water!"
The old man looked at the youth with disgust. "Get up. Keep those two books. Since your two senior brothers are dead, you're now the senior disciple."
The youth stood up tremblingly.
Old Demon Mi took out a small oil lamp with thick oil from his sleeve, took a deep breath, and the souls of the two disciples seemed to be extracted from their corpses, all drifting into the lamp. The disciples' faces appeared on the thick oil, twisted in agony, but quickly faded and merged into the oil.
It sent chills down the handsome youth's spine.
A man and a woman appeared at each end of the alley, slowly approaching. They were the couple who had gone to the rice shop earlier. The woman swayed her hips more exaggeratedly than willow branches in a strong wind. "Old Demon Mi, what a coincidence, meeting again."
Old Demon Mi's eyes narrowed, and he sneered, "What, going back on your word? We agreed beforehand: the Glass Lamp goes to me, and all of Old Chen's other belongings go to you."
The woman, her fingers hooked like claws, slowly scraped along the wall and smirked, "That's what was said. But now that Glass Immortal has become a tortoise burrowing into the ground, he can play dead, but my husband and I can't just wait here to die with him, can we? Old Demon Mi, how about sharing a little of the spoils? You can't let us come all this way for nothing, can you?"
Old Demon Mi's expression flickered.
The handsome youth stood by the wall, head down, eyes covertly shifting.
---
On the east city wall tower, after General Ma led his troops away from the battlements to reinforce the city, no one was guarding this spot.
A young man in a pink Daoist robe stood outside the corridor on the top floor of the tower, smiling as he looked toward the alley where Old Demon Mi was, and snickered, "A lousy little Glass Lamp—something I used to drink from back in the day, worthless—and they're fighting over it till their heads bleed? Has the Colored Garment Kingdom become so boring after a thousand years?"
He took one look and didn't want to waste more time. He turned his gaze more toward the commandery government mansion. "Dragon Tiger Mountain Celestial Master Mansion, huh. Didn't expect that, did you? That 'talisman' you added two hundred years ago, placed in Rouge Commandery City in the form of a Celestial Master's seal—the Colored Garment King, out of selfish motives, probably didn't want to properly infuse it with spiritual qi. And the appearance of the mass grave should have disrupted both sides' plans, allowing me to finally break free. Human calculations cannot match heaven's calculations after all."
He placed one hand on the railing and formed a hand seal with the other. Starting from Rouge Commandery, he deduced the national fortunes of the Colored Garment Kingdom from five hundred years ago to the present. Suddenly he smiled, looking northward—not just north of the Colored Garment Kingdom, but all the way to the northernmost part of Vase Continent. He clicked his tongue, "A master, a master. The Colored Garment Kingdom has lost an ancient national treasure that protected it for generations. The Spirit Rhinoceros Sect, which sheltered the kingdom, is also severely weakened—their sect-protecting Colored Garment Immortal Robe was stolen. Will the three neighboring countries, including Ancient Elm Kingdom, sit idly by? Strike while the enemy is down—a simple principle. Plus, near the Colored Garment Kingdom's capital, due to the king's long years of neglect in governance, there have been growing complaints from court and commoners. Just let a natural disaster occur, and popular resentment will boil over. There's bound to be upheaval and chaos. And this chaos will be a multi-country war."
The pink-robed "Liu Chicheng" nodded and said, "Since the Great Tide is like this, I should also take on a few disciples."
He stepped out, his figure flickering and vanishing instantly.
The next moment, he emerged from that narrow, dark alley.
Old Demon Mi and the couple, who had been about to fight to the death, were frozen stiff in fear.
That kind of overwhelming aura was like a few small shrimp and crabs, in an originally slow-flowing silent river, suddenly encountering a flood dragon whose body could fill the entire riverbed.
The pink-robed man didn't waste a word. He casually flicked his sleeve, and the couple in the alley vanished into thin air on the spot—not even a speck of ash remained. Any spirit artifacts, magical instruments, or snow money they had naturally disappeared along with them from heaven and earth.
The intertwined pink lotus flowers on his robe were not lifeless things; they swayed gracefully on the Daoist robe, emitting waves of fragrance.
The robe itself was more like a lotus pond.
Old Demon Mi, who had seen all kinds of storms, was still dripping with sweat. He asked, "Immortal Master, why didn't you kill me as well?"
"Liu Chicheng" smiled. "Just because I wear a Daoist robe, do I have to eliminate demons and uphold the Way? Can't it be that I only wear it because I think it looks good?"
Old Demon Mi was speechless.
Damn it, this was absolutely a giant of the demonic path, the kind at the very peak of legendary mountains.
"Liu Chicheng" flicked his finger, sending Old Demon Mi flying from the middle of the alley all the way out the other end. "Stop being an eyesore and get lost. Also, I'm taking this disciple of yours."
He walked up to the youth, hands clasped behind his back, looked down, and asked with a grin, "Little one, what's your name?"
The handsome youth slowly looked up, swallowed, and said timidly, "Reporting to Immortal Master, my name is Yuan Tiandi."
"Hmm?"
He was slightly puzzled. "'Tiandi' as in 'Heaven and Earth'?"
The youth shook his head, his face pale, afraid that his head would be crushed the next moment, but also afraid to lie, so he answered honestly, "When my mother was pregnant with me, our family was poor. When she was nine months pregnant, she was still working in the fields, and she accidentally had a premature birth and gave birth to me there. My father named me 'Tiandi.'"
"Liu Chicheng" beamed, gently patted the youth's shoulder, and said, "Then your name is really not bad. I like it. From now on, you are my disciple. First, your master will give you a sect initiation gift."
The youth then saw this inexplicable master raise his hand and snap his fingers. From all directions, crimson miasma came surging in, strand by strand, converging into a huge red sphere. The "young" cheap master in the pink Daoist robe merely twisted two fingers together, and the miasma sphere, as big as a water vat, condensed into a fist-sized ball.
"Liu Chicheng" lightly patted the ball against the youth's forehead and laughed, "Forgot to tell you, to be my disciple, you have to stay alive. If you can successfully hold out until dawn, you'll be the... second big shot of our great sect."
The youth slammed into the wall, in excruciating pain beyond words, as if his forehead were splitting open.
"Liu Chicheng" showed no concern. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them and looked far to the west, muttering to himself, "But the scent of your White Emperor City is much better, Senior Brother."
---
This disaster struck without warning, catching everyone off guard, but it also ended quickly, leaving people incredulous. The entire commandery government and General Ma's elite troops in the city all mistakenly believed that the great demons might have even more ferocious follow-up plans. But as the sun rose, with radiant rays in all directions, the commandery city began to return to normal. The number of people possessed by demonic influences dropped sharply on its own. Everyone waited anxiously for the immortal master of the Spirit Rhinoceros Sect to arrive on a colored luan bird to stabilize morale. But they "failed to show up." From midday until evening, not a shadow was seen. Then Prefect Liu "fell ill in bed." Fortunately, after the hour of midnight passed, there were no more tragic incidents of demonic mischief in Rouge Commandery City. There were only a few petty thugs taking advantage of the chaos to rob houses, but they were suppressed by General Ma's troops on the spot. Two resisters who used weapons were killed on the spot. In fact, those two poor souls had only instinctively grabbed a couple of wooden sticks.
Another night passed. Rouge Commandery remained quiet and peaceful, but still no one dared to relax. Large numbers of armored soldiers, day and night, patrolled and guarded the city in teams.
Then, on that morning, no colored luan bird appeared over the commandery city. Instead, an old and a young sword immortal arrived, flying through the air on their swords. Chen Ping'an and the others recognized one of them—the round-faced girl surnamed Fu. The other was a supreme elder of the Spirit Rhinoceros Sect. They landed at the commandery government mansion, and Prefect Liu's illness immediately recovered. The supreme elder, after taking a seat in the official residence, though his demeanor was refined and his speech elegant, could not hide the worry between his brows. He didn't sit long. After confirming that Rouge Commandery had been cleared of miasma, he soon took his leave with the round-faced girl, riding the wind away, hurrying back to the Spirit Rhinoceros Sect's mountain gate.
It turned out that while traveling south to reinforce Rouge Commandery, they had suddenly received a flying sword message from their sect: the thousand-year-old sect-protecting treasure had mysteriously vanished!
But such a critical secret concerning a sect's survival was not something the old man from the Spirit Rhinoceros Sect would share with outsiders.
In fact, if not for the sake of face—mainly to avoid leaving a bad impression on the girl from the Divine Declaration Sect—this middle-fifth-realm sword cultivator and supreme elder would not have bothered to make this trip to Rouge Commandery at all. The safety of a single commandery in the Colored Garment Kingdom was nothing compared to that Colored Luan Garment? That was the very foundation of the sect!
After that, another great stroke of fortune befell the commandery government: the girl sword immortal, said to be from the Divine Declaration Sect, took a liking to Prefect Liu's youngest daughter, Liu Gaoxin. She offered to personally recommend her for entry into the Divine Declaration Sect's outer sect, with a very good chance of becoming a direct disciple of one of the sect's founding ancestors in the inner sect.
Everyone was overjoyed.
Only the girl herself was unhappy. She was then scolded by her parents, her elder sister and brother, and even by her master, the old adviser to the commandery government.
Although the round-faced girl held an extraordinarily high seniority in the Divine Declaration Sect, the orthodox lineage of the entire continent, and had been cold-faced toward the old Daoist Zhao Liu and the ghost Yang Huang, she was easygoing with Liu Gaoxin. She laughed heartily, chatted cheerfully, and even took Liu Gaoxin shopping around the commandery city for feminine items.
Unlike last year, when spring came very late and summer arrived very late.
This year, spring arrived, late spring left, and tomorrow was immediately the Start of Summer. So this year's entire spring was now over.
At dawn that day, the girl Liu Gaoxin left the commandery city. There were no tearful farewells. She left a stack of letters in her room. With reddened eyes, she and that Sister Fu from the immortal sect each rode a snow-white horse. The horses' hooves clattered on the bluestone slabs, taking them farther and farther from home and family.
But as the girl on her white horse passed through a sparsely populated street, she suddenly, as if by intuition, turned her head sharply. She saw a young man carrying a sword case standing on a distant rooftop, gently waving goodbye to her.
The girl pursed her lips, abruptly turned her head back, her face full of teardrops, each falling like shattered flower petals.
Liu Gaoxin's mood suddenly brightened. She held her head high, facing away from the one secretly seeing her off, and laughed happily.
The round-faced girl surnamed Fu glanced sideways and found the young man on the distant rooftop vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place him, so she didn't bother thinking about it further.
After seeing Liu Gaoxin off, Chen Ping'an sat alone on the rooftop. He took down the wine gourd from his waist and drank one gulp at a time.
The young man drank slowly, reminiscing about Teacher Qi, and a spring breeze swirled around his sleeve.