Chapter 234: Staying Overnight at an Ancient Temple with Demonic Qi
(Many people have been catching colds lately, so take care of yourselves. The spring chill persists, so bundle up warm~)
Chen Ping'an and his companions were forcibly kept in the County Governor's residence for three more days.
After this upheaval, Liu Gaohua seemed to have undergone a complete transformation. The listless demeanor from their first meeting was gone. He frequently sought out his father to discuss knowledge—both moral essays and matters of governing the people. He asked whatever came to mind. Prefect Liu still didn't have much patience for his son, but Liu Gaohua no longer backed down the moment his father showed irritation, nor did he lose heart. In fact, over the past couple of days, he had thoroughly annoyed Prefect Liu.
Most of the time, though, Liu Gaohua stuck close to the big-bearded man and the Daoist priest Zhang Shanfeng. He also kept a vigilant eye on that impoverished scholar Liu Chicheng, watching him like a hawk. He didn't mind this poor scholar from Baishui Kingdom marrying his elder sister, but letting him try any cheap tricks before she was carried into the family home on a sedan chair carried by eight men—that Liu Gaohua would not allow.
Since they were companions who had shared hardships, Liu Gaohua, being from a family of officials, set aside many of his usual restraints and etiquette. He treated the inner workings of the Colorful Clothes Kingdom's court and bureaucracy as appetizers to accompany their drinking, sharing them privately with Chen Ping'an and the others.
The disaster that had struck Yanzi County, affecting thousands of households, had seen the great demons and fiends either vanish without a trace, suppressed or killed, or flee into hiding. But its impact on the common folk of Yanzi County was deep and long-lasting. Fear spread everywhere. Many wealthy families had begun secretly preparing to move away from the county city to the prefectural city, or even to the capital of the Colorful Clothes Kingdom. Even if they didn't relocate their entire households, these influential and affluent families wanted to avoid putting all their eggs in one basket—this was simply common worldly wisdom.
Word had it that after receiving the news, the imperial court of the Colorful Clothes Kingdom had dispatched officials from the Ministry of Rites and the Ministry of War—all of relatively low rank—to slowly make their way from the capital to Yanzi County. They claimed it was to investigate the case and pacify the people. But Prefect Liu, who had spent half his life navigating officialdom, knew this was just the Emperor going through the motions. As for funds from the Ministry of Revenue for disaster relief, there was no hope of even a single tael of silver. The county's treasury wasn't even twenty or thirty percent full to handle this mess, and Prefect Liu wasn't the type of corrupt official who would extort taxes. So he would have to rely on his own thick face, his beard, and groveling to beg for money—relying on the promise of a good name recorded in local county annals, or inscribed on a monument for future generations to admire. Using these, he would beg for silver from the wealthy and gentry within the city. And he had to finalize the money matters before the imperial envoys from the two ministries in the capital arrived in the county city, to avoid causing any displeasure to His Majesty, and especially to avoid adding trouble for the already struggling Ministry of Revenue. Only then might he be able to keep his official post as Prefect.
Life has its ups and downs. In officialdom, commerce, and the path of cultivation, one person's fall can be another's rise.
Take Chen Ping'an and his companions this time. Whether out of righteous indignation or compassion, they seemed to have been rewarded for their good deeds. When the big-bearded blade master and the Daoist Zhang Shanfeng tallied up their gains, they had both profited handsomely.
Xu Yuanxia had obtained a new divine weapon—a short blade left behind by the eldest disciple of Old Demon Mi. Its original owner had been a genuine member of the demonic path, yet surprisingly, when unsheathed, the short blade's blade aura was bright and pure, shining with brilliance, utterly devoid of any sinister qi. Additionally, the vice general of General Ma, that armored martial artist, after two battles fought side by side, had taken an immediate liking to Xu Yuanxia. He had insisted on "reporting as lost" a top-grade military strongbow, along with five specially crafted Mo Clan arrows stored in the official residence's armory, secretly gifting them all to Xu Yuanxia.
Xu Yuanxia initially refused to accept. "Military law is as unyielding as a mountain"—that phrase might vary elsewhere in the Colorful Clothes Kingdom, but given how General Ma led his troops, it was no joke. The vice general, understanding Xu Yuanxia's concerns, laughed heartily. With personalities so well-matched, he simply revealed the secret: General Ma had already nodded his approval. At first, he himself had dared only to ask for a single arrow, but General Ma had first informed Prefect Liu, given a heads-up, and then waved his hand grandly. In the official report submitted to the Ministry of War detailing battle losses, the number of arrows was changed directly from sixteen to twenty-one.
Zhang Shanfeng had collected two spiritual tools of poor quality. One was badly damaged—a white jade wine cup as thin as a porcelain shard. It could automatically absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, condensing it into a single dewdrop full of spiritual energy every half ten-day period. When Zhang Shanfeng took it, the cup had already chipped, which would likely affect the speed of qi condensation to some extent.
The other was a pair of legendary bamboo chopsticks from Green God Mountain. One chopstick was inscribed with "Green God Mountain," and the other with "Divine Empyrean Bamboo." They at least appeared to be ancient items with considerable history, but whether they were truly sourced from Green God Mountain was unknown for now. Still, the bamboo chopsticks indeed contained abundant spiritual energy.
Regardless, these were the spiritual tools that every lower fifth-tier qi refiner dreamed of.
Chen Ping'an did not bring out the cyan wooden box or the fragments of the golden and silver golden body. Those were too significant, and fortune and misfortune were intertwined. Such items were not like back in his hometown village, where catching a river turtle or a snake-catching eagle could be shared joyfully with a friend like Liu Xianyang. Chen Ping'an only took out the charcoal-like dark wood and the white bowl inscribed with the Five Sacred Mountains True Form Diagram.
Xu Yuanxia couldn't discern the bowl's secrets, but he marveled at the heavy piece of wood, saying it was lightning-struck wood. Not just any lightning striking a tree could produce it—it had to be struck by special Five Thunder varieties imbued with heavenly might. And the tree had to survive the strike; it couldn't be dead wood, because dead wood simply couldn't retain that profound, mysterious thunder method's heavenly authority. Xu Yuanxia weighed the charcoal-like dark wood and chuckled. "Chen Ping'an, believe me or not, if you gave this to a qi refiner from the Agriculture Sect, they'd turn it back into a thriving little sapling?"
Chen Ping'an understood immediately.
It was valuable!
The County Governor's residence also symbolically gifted these "chivalrous heroes" five hundred taels of silver as a reward for their merits.
The big-bearded man refused to take it, and Daoist Zhang Shanfeng also declined. Only Chen Ping'an accepted. Zhang Shanfeng teased Chen Ping'an for being a money-grubber, and Chen Ping'an just smiled, unconcerned.
The boy from the Zhao mansion, named Zhao Shuxia, and the little girl named Luanluan had turned misfortune into fortune. They were now freed from servitude and had become disciples of the old man nicknamed "Master Fisherman." The little girl Luanluan had even become the old man's final, closed-door disciple.
Every morning, Chen Ping'an practiced walking on stakes in the courtyard of his lodging. The boy would crouch at the gate, propping his chin on his hands, watching intently.
Chen Ping'an turned a blind eye to it. This was part of the Mountain-Toppling Fist manual, and he had never considered the manual his own property. It wouldn't be right to casually teach others the fist techniques.
But the boy Zhao Shuxia was determined to "steal the art." Chen Ping'an actually didn't think it was a bad thing.
This child had a good heart.
So Chen Ping'an deliberately slowed down his six-step stake walking, repeating it over and over.
On the last day, the sun was high. Summer had arrived, and all things were growing.
In the twilight, Chen Ping'an said to the boy, "Zhao Shuxia, can you practice that stake-walking fist frame seriously for a hundred..."
Chen Ping'an quickly changed his words, "Practice it a hundred thousand times?"
The boy nodded vigorously.
Chen Ping'an instructed, "Don't seek speed. Only seek stability. And each time, you must not make any mistakes. Then, one time added to another, within three to five years, practice a hundred thousand fists. Finishing the six steps counts as one fist. Remember, if at any step you feel you've made an error, start over from the beginning. Don't allow any sloppiness."
Chen Ping'an either said nothing or was long-winded. The azure-robed boy and pink-skirted girl at Fallen Mountain were probably most familiar with this trait.
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment and continued, "Practicing fists is... a very foolish thing. Zhao Shuxia, you can be smart—and indeed you are very smart, much smarter than me—but your fists must be practiced as foolishly as possible. Understand?"
The boy's gaze was resolute, his hands clenched into fists. "I understand! 'Only by enduring the bitterest of hardships can one rise above others.'"
This talented but suffering child truly understood.
Chen Ping'an was amused and asked, "Once you rise above others, what do you want to do?"
The boy answered without hesitation, "Buy Luanluan lots of good clothes that are warm to wear even in winter!"
Chen Ping'an asked again, "And what about yourself?"
The boy wiped his mouth and said with longing, "Eat my fill at every meal!"
Chen Ping'an's smile faded, and he furrowed his brow slightly. "That's it?"
The boy, coming from a poor background, was adept at reading expressions. He felt a bit embarrassed, fearing that this great benefactor might think him unambitious. But he truly had no other thoughts, and he didn't want to deceive Chen Ping'an. So he hung his head guiltily and said, "That's really it."
"How is just eating your fill enough?"
Chen Ping'an's deliberately stern expression softened considerably. He ruffled the child's head and teased, "You need to have meat with every meal!"
The boy immediately grinned foolishly.
Daoist Zhang Shanfeng, Liu Gaohua, and Liu Chicheng were squatting side by side on the porch railing.
Luanluan was held in Liu Gaohua's sister's arms, a little distance away from the three men.
Seeing this scene, they all couldn't help but smile.
This chance encounter, though fraught with twists, ended well—a rare and good parting.
At noon that day, the scholar Liu Chicheng left the county city with Chen Ping'an and the others. Liu Gaohua and his elder sister, along with Zhao Shuxia and Luanluan, and the Confucian scholar Old Master Fisherman, all came to see them off. They accompanied them to a roadside pavilion five li outside the city, where willows swayed gently.
Liu Chicheng bid a reluctant farewell to Miss Liu in the shade of a tree. No one knew what sweet words he spoke, but though the woman was sad, there was also some smile in her eyes, clearly carrying much hope and anticipation.
Chen Ping'an found Old Master Fisherman alone and handed him five hundred taels of silver notes, along with a golden talisman paper. He said these were as a gift for taking Zhao Shuxia and Luanluan as disciples, and earnestly begged the old man to accept them. The old man, being of an open-minded disposition, accepted them without any fuss. He smiled and told Chen Ping'an to rest assured, that he would treat Zhao Shuxia and Luanluan like his own children and would never let them suffer. Finally, Chen Ping'an clasped his fist and said, "Master's character is as lofty as the mountains and as enduring as the rivers."
These were Chen Ping'an's heartfelt words.
So for the first time, Chen Ping'an spoke in such a refined manner, yet felt no embarrassment at all.
The old man, holding a child in each hand, watched the four of them walk away into the distance. He said softly with a smile, "One who embodies both immortal qi and chivalrous spirit—truly a scholar of the realm."
Liu Gaohua nudged his sister's arm with his elbow and asked with a grin, "Sis, what kind of love potion did Liu Chicheng give you, that you can hold back your tears?"
The woman smiled. "Liu Lang said that once he achieves success and fame, he will definitely return to marry me. Then he will drink arm-in-arm with Father, making him call him 'worthy son-in-law' again and again at the banquet table."
Liu Gaohua made a face. "Scholars' nonsense—you actually believe that?"
The woman held her hands to her heart, staring dreamily at the back of that scholar wearing a willow crown, murmuring, "That's what it says in the books."
Liu Gaohua sighed helplessly. "A grown man, wearing a willow crown at his age—doesn't he feel ashamed? What prospects could such a poor scholar ever have?"
The woman stomped on her brother's foot angrily. "Don't talk about your future brother-in-law like that!"
Liu Gaohua winced in pain and quickly withdrew his foot, stepping further away, hands behind his head, looking carefree.
Then—smack!—someone slapped him hard on the head.
Liu Gaohua turned around ready to curse, but he froze as if someone had grabbed him by the throat. His face flushed red as he struggled for a moment before muttering resentfully, "Dad."
The woman was even more nervous.
Prefect Liu, having shed his official robes for a set of blue literati attire, stood between his two children. "You and Chen Ping'an are friends?"
Liu Gaohua, unsure of his father's temperament and hidden meaning, answered cautiously, "I suppose so?"
Prefect Liu glanced at his son, gave a faint chuckle, and without another word, turned and walked toward Old Master Fisherman, chatting about moral essays as they went.
The woman secretly patted her chest in relief.
Liu Gaohua whispered, "Sis, did I say something wrong again?"
His sister said with a hint of schadenfreude, "Debts don't weigh down one who already has many. What are you afraid of?"
Liu Gaohua let out a groan of despair.
Neither of them dared to approach their father, fearing disdain or, worse, being caught unnecessarily. So they followed at a distance.
The boy Zhao Shuxia quietly slowed down and came alongside Liu Gaohua. "Brother Liu, my master praised you. He said you are filial and have a kind nature. Your father said, 'Not at all, barely managing not to disgrace the family name.'"
Liu Gaohua, a grown man who had just been secretly mocking Liu Chicheng for being unpromising, now quickly ran to the river, saying he was going to wash his face.
The group took a rare break and strolled slowly back to Yanzi County along the official road. They passed a handsome young boy.
The boy was twirling a large handful of willow twigs, with a cinnabar mark on his forehead.
He was truly beautiful.
——
Three nights later, at dusk, Chen Ping'an and his three companions were on a secluded mountain path leading to Shushui Kingdom. They stopped for the night at a dilapidated ancient temple. Prefect Liu had previously mentioned something: he had heard that at Earth Dragon Mountain in Shushui Kingdom, there was a peculiar "ferry" not recorded in official documents. It was highly likely the kind of place Chen Ping'an was looking for—a departure point where the immortals of the mountains sailed on boats through the clouds, riding the wind on distant journeys.
Xu Yuanxia would part ways with them there, heading alone to Qingluan Kingdom in the southeast of Vase Continent, to take a friend's ashes home.
Xu Yuanxia loved to travel on foot and explore mountains and rivers. He also enjoyed writing landscape travelogues, recording those strange, dangerous, and magnificent sights. So he never wanted to ride on immortal ferry boats. Liu Chicheng, meanwhile, was headed to a place in the southwestern part of Vase Continent—a place no one had ever heard of, not even the well-traveled Xu Yuanxia.
At night, the long-abandoned ancient temple was unsettling. The statues of the Four Heavenly Kings of Buddhism had all toppled over. The temple grounds were vast and empty, with gusts of eerie wind. Drafts blew through the halls and corridors, and occasionally the sudden cry of a night owl from the mountain forest made Liu Chicheng's lips tremble. Even after lighting a bonfire, he pressed close to the big-bearded man, feeling that this fellow looked the most ferocious and could surely suppress any ghostly yin beings. The young ones like Chen Ping'an and Zhang Shanfeng, he figured, were likely unreliable.
As for the "old ghost of powder and rouge" that temporarily resided in his body, Liu Chicheng never thought it was all that powerful—it had never even been a Golden Core Realm immortal. It just hid and boasted. If it were truly strong, would it have been suppressed for so many years? And would it need him, Liu Chicheng, to rescue it? So how strong could it be? Besides, which true immortal didn't have an ethereal, immortal-bearing demeanor? Who the hell would swagger around in a pink Daoist robe? Anyway, Liu Chicheng found it shameful.
Everything Liu Chicheng saw and heard was completely known to the being he had nicknamed "Old Ghost of Powder and Rouge."
But whenever the old ghost donned the pink robe and appeared in the world for extended periods, Liu Chicheng would completely lose his memory each time, until the old ghost chose to return his body.
This infuriated Liu Chicheng. In the future, if he married a stunningly beautiful wife, took in a string of gorgeous concubines, and added a variety of plump and slender chambermaids, what if he had just climbed into bed, was just holding a soft hand, and then his vision went black and he knew nothing? And then when he opened his eyes, it was broad daylight and he was already dressed and off the bed? How messed up would that be? And this unique, silent grievance—who could he complain to about it?
Liu Chicheng squatted on his haunches, warming his hands by the fire, his face full of worry. What a worry indeed.
Under the shroud of night, the ancient temple seemed even more frightening. Liu Chicheng looked up and around, feeling increasingly creeped out. Fortunately, Xu Yuanxia was drinking, and Little Daoist Zhang was off to the side drawing his peachwood sword to practice his swordsmanship, which gave Liu Chicheng some peace of mind. Chen Ping'an had gone further away to gather firewood and dry branches for cooking. Liu Chicheng truly admired this young man named Chen—he seemed fearless, and he was especially single-minded. Every day, he would practice those two fist stances over and over, unwavering. Liu Chicheng felt that if he had studied his books with even half the diligence Chen Ping'an applied to his fist practice, he would have been a prime student at Guanhu Academy long ago.
Liu Chicheng soon saw Chen Ping'an jogging back. Besides a large bundle of dry branches, he had also brought back a tall, ancient-looking object. Liu Chicheng asked what it was and whether it was valuable. Liu Chicheng rolled his eyes and said dismissively, "It's just a tall stand for an oil lamp. Poor households only have short stands, nothing so refined. According to some unofficial historical records, in ancient times, Buddhist forest temples were the wealthiest in many Vase Continent dynasties—richer than even the Emperor himself. That was like turning the world upside down, so they launched several campaigns to suppress Buddhism. This tall stand you're holding—if it were new, it might be worth something. But now it's just scrap metal, worth a few coppers at most."
Chen Ping'an was a bit disappointed. After putting down the branches, he dutifully carried the tall stand back to its original place.
Liu Chicheng rubbed his forehead, feeling that traveling through the martial world with such a hick was quite embarrassing.
After the meal was cooked and eaten, Liu Chicheng fussily finished dinner and started laying out his bedding, ready to dream away.
The big-bearded man, having drunk his fill, fell backward and began snoring thunderously.
Tonight, Daoist Zhang Shanfeng was on watch for the first half of the night, and Chen Ping'an for the second half.
Chen Ping'an first gathered the broken statues of the Bodhisattvas and Heavenly Kings, stacking them in a corner sheltered from wind and rain. When that was done, he began practicing his stake walking on the uneven open ground.
Now, according to Liu Chicheng, Chen Ping'an's fists were so slow that one could finish a full nap before he completed a single set.
But later in his practice tonight, Chen Ping'an suddenly sped up, eventually becoming as fast as a thunderclap, with wind whistling around him. After a moment, he slowed down again.
Zhang Shanfeng walked over and watched for a while, smiling. "What's the matter? A bit troubled?"
Chen Ping'an stopped and retracted his fist stance, looking a bit frustrated. "I've touched the threshold, but I just can't cross it. I'm stuck in between, and it feels really unpleasant."
Zhang Shanfeng laughed. "You, kid, are about to break through to a new realm. A fourth-tier martial artist under twenty—even in the martial world of our Northern Jambu Continent, that's pretty fierce."
Chen Ping'an sighed. "Before I left, someone told me that before I reach Old Dragon City, it would be best if I could reach the Qi Gathering stage of a pure martial artist."
Suddenly.
In the distance, the demon-hearing bell that Zhang Shanfeng had placed on top of his luggage began to vibrate violently, ringing loudly.
Zhang Shanfeng's heart tightened. "Demonic qi is approaching the temple!"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "Put away the demon-hearing bell first, so as not to startle the snake."
The big-bearded man sat up quickly and laughed loudly. "Business is booming for us three! Fortune has arrived, and we can't stop it!"
After laughing, Xu Yuanxia stroked his beard, his hands resting on the hilts of his long and short blades at his waist. He said solemnly, "But remember, when slaying demons and vanquishing evil, staying alive comes first."
Chen Ping'an and Zhang Shanfeng exchanged a smile. The young Daoist chuckled, "I still have one Divine Travel Talisman."
Chen Ping'an was silent for a moment, then said flatly, "I can run fast!"