# Chapter 237: After Minor Heat, the Spring Breeze Lingers
The demon head who looked like a young girl had a shifting expression. "Song Yushao, are you determined today to cross swords with me?"
The black-clad old man pulled out an old almanac from his bosom, flipped to a page, pressed his finger against one entry, and murmured to himself: "Suitable for fasting, suitable for seeking wealth."
The old man put away the almanac, grasped the bronze ancient sword, and sheathed it, then extended his hand toward the girl. "Allow you to lose wealth and avoid disaster."
The girl was well aware of this old eccentric's rules of the jianghu. Without a word, she pulled out a yellow jade copper coin from her sleeve. On the front was engraved "Leaving Plum Rain, Entering Dog Days," and on the back, "Thunder Strikes the Sky's Peak." This kind of jade coin, like the Snow Flower Coin, was currency used by mountain immortals for transactions. The jade coin in the girl's palm was nicknamed "Minor Heat Coin." Compared to it, the Snow Flower Coin was like copper cash compared to silver taels in the mortal world—the difference was enormous.
She lightly tossed this Minor Heat Coin to the black-clad old man. Instead of uttering harsh words, she smiled like a blooming flower. "We get to know each other through fighting. I hope that in the future, when I visit Jianshui Manor, the old master won't keep me at a distance."
The black-clad old man's expression was unreadable. He put away the Minor Heat Coin and allowed the girl to transform into a thick, dark green smoke that slowly drifted away from the temple.
This sword dao grandmaster, named Song Yushao, flicked his fingers, and wisps of gentle wind shot out like arrows, striking several acupoints on the chests of the big-bearded man and the young Daoist. The two had originally been secretly ambushed by the female demon head, who had sealed their acupoints and immobilized them—unable to speak or move. They could have eventually broken through the restriction on their own, but if the old man hadn't appeared, for a short time Chen Ping'an would have still had to face the enemy alone.
This was Zhang Shanfeng's first taste of a jianghu expert's acupoint-sealing technique. After regaining his freedom, he immediately gasped for air, still feeling somewhat unwell.
Xu Yuanxia, a pure martial artist with top-tier martial arts, had capsized in the gutter this time and couldn't help blushing. He cupped his hands toward the old man. "Thank you, Sword Saint Song, for your righteous assistance!"
The black-clad old man was eccentric in temperament. He acted as if he hadn't heard, walked straight to the campfire, sat cross-legged with his sword across his knees, and began to rest with his eyes closed.
Xu Yuanxia lowered his voice and gave Zhang Shanfeng and Chen Ping'an a rough overview of the jianghu affairs.
In the central region of Baoping Continent, especially in the dozen or so countries near Caiyi Kingdom, there were four sword dao grandmasters who had made their names known. In Caiyi Kingdom, there was a Sword God who had long since retired from the jianghu and lived in seclusion in the mountains for over thirty years. He was acclaimed as having divine sword techniques, and his sword was called Candlesun. But recently, a shocking tragedy was reported—the old Sword God had died at the hands of a vengeful enemy. This stirred up a storm in the surrounding jianghu, causing hearts to waver.
Then there was this black-clad old man before them. He was the old master of Jianshui Manor in Shushui Kingdom, with an eccentric temperament. He was a generation younger than the Caiyi Kingdom Sword God, and was honored with the title of Sword Saint. His sword was called Ironwater. He had founded Jianshui Manor, the number one jianghu sect in Shushui Kingdom. The current manor lord was Song Yushao's eldest grandson, whose sword dao skill was equally astonishingly brilliant.
In Guyu Kingdom, a renowned Sword Lord had emerged, with immense killing power but extremely poor martial virtue. He was a wandering rogue cultivator with no fixed abode and no sect to his name. Rumors said he had a good relationship with the Guyu Kingdom emperor, and his sword was called Green Pearl.
In Songxi Kingdom, there was also a rising star, the youngest of them all, who styled himself the Green Bamboo Sword Immortal.
These four sword dao grandmasters were like a cluster of brilliant stars, shining brightly over the jianghu of the dozen or so kingdoms including Caiyi Kingdom. Even the mountain immortals dared not underestimate them.
The black-clad old man suddenly opened his eyes and sneered, "Sneaking around! Show yourself!"
This old man, honored with the title of "Sword Saint," drew his long sword with a clang. He casually slashed toward the temple altar, and a large swath of dazzling, clear sword qi erupted abruptly. The already dilapidated altar completely shattered with a bang, revealing behind it a delicate, weak-looking young girl. She ignored everything, covering her head with both hands, as if this would make her invisible to everyone.
When this second strange girl appeared, Zhang Shanfeng's demon-hearing bell gave a slight tremble.
All the spirit creatures, demons, and ghosts of the world, as well as yin entities, had almost no orthodox cultivation methods. As long as their dao cultivation wasn't deep and their realm wasn't high, they often had nowhere to hide under the demon-hearing bell. This was why the demon-hearing bell was second only to the Bai Ze Chart as a must-have item for qi refiners, and was highly revered. Before Xu Yuanxia had reached the fourth realm of martial arts, he too had owned a similar string of bells for self-defense and warning.
Xu Yuanxia and Zhang Shanfeng's attention was more focused on the girl.
Chen Ping'an, who had always wanted to formally learn swordsmanship but never found the way in, was instead captivated by the old man's sword strike. It seemed casual and effortless—just a random swing—but the sword qi was like a rainbow, and wherever it went, it struck like a waterfall crashing down, unstoppable.
Liu Chicheng had become unusually silent after the girl demon head made her move. He had been squatting by the campfire the whole time, not making a sound, stretching out both palms and lowering his head to warm his hands over the fire.
"A pure Buddhist sanctuary like this—how can I allow a petty demon like you to defile it?!"
The black-clad old man's face was cold and hard. He flicked his wrist, and the tip of the bronze sword trembled. In an instant, a blinding white light shot out from the sword tip, like a mountain immortal's demon-binding rope, twisting and turning. It quickly spread out in the air like a vast, magnificent net of heavenly law, descending upon the timid girl who had been judged as a yao creature.
Chen Ping'an discreetly took this scene into his eyes, his horizons greatly expanded.
So sword qi, which should be meticulous and refined, could also be so skillfully controlled and endlessly varied?
The old man held his sword with one hand, handling everything with ease!
Especially that calm bearing—that was what Chen Ping'an admired most.
The net, formed by sword qi that first condensed and then dispersed, fell upon the girl, sizzling and crackling. It caused her to writhe in agony on the ground. This burning pain that pierced her very heart had already wounded the depths of the soul of this wild mountain demon. Back when Chen Ping'an was in the bamboo tower on Luopo Mountain, he had suffered unspeakably. How much more so for this little demon who had cultivated lazily and lived in peace with the world for centuries?
After this ordeal, the girl could no longer maintain her human form. Most of her face revealed a fox's visage. Tufts of snow-white fur sprouted on the backs of her hands and her neck, and a faint, fox-like odor began to emanate.
The snow-white fox immortal, thin in dao cultivation, writhed and wailed on the ground. "I've never harmed anyone! I've never harmed a single person! I've only teased and frightened some scholars who lodged in this ancient temple! Don't kill me! Don't kill me..."
The black-clad old man seemed to have some sort of complex. Holding his long sword, sword qi glorious and rainbow light blossoming, he said harshly, "Demon is demon, devil is devil! So what if you haven't harmed anyone today? Once your cultivation is high enough, you'll naturally start slaughtering the innocent and taking pleasure in it!"
The girl, most of whose body had already transformed into a white fox, prostrated on the ground, barely breathing. "I even saved two scholars from that old woman. I gave her many of my treasured possessions to make her let them go. I won't harm anyone, I never will..."
The black-clad old man sneered. "A petty fox immortal like you—death is too good for you! I dare say that if I kill a hundred demon spirits under my sword, at most one will be wronged!"
The young fox immortal no longer had the strength to argue. Her body convulsed, her clothes torn and soaked in blood. Her originally pitch-black, exceptionally bright and watery eyes had become dim and lifeless. In her dying moments, the girl didn't resent the old man's vicious attack. She only stared blankly at the temple gate, as if waiting for a poor scholar to visit, so she could scare him again. If she succeeded, it would make her happy for months.
Liu Chicheng slowly raised his head. Golden light flowed in his deep eyes. There was a hint of cold smile at the corner of his mouth, along with a helpless sigh of someone who had seen too much of the world. He felt that even after another thousand years, life would still be this boring.
Just as Liu Chicheng was about to stand up.
Chen Ping'an stood up instead. He gently shifted the sword case on his back and suddenly spoke. "Senior Song, if this fox immortal happens to be that one wronged demon spirit among the hundred, then what?"
The old man twitched the corner of his mouth and laughed. "Then that's perfect. It confirms that the ninety-nine before and the ninety-nine after are all definitely demons and monsters that harm the people. So my sword will only come out more swiftly."
Chen Ping'an pointed at the girl who had completely turned into a fox. "Then what about her?"
The old man patted his chest and said bluntly, "If I flip through the almanac and it says 'suitable for burial,' I'll bury her. If not suitable, then I'll let her corpse dry in the sun, hoping she'll be reborn into a better life next time. She better not be a mountain or swamp demon again. And even more, she better not run into me again."
Chen Ping'an was a bit stubborn. "Senior, it's right to kill demons when you meet them and vanquish devils when you encounter them. But you could do it more right."
The old man stared carefully at the boy carrying the sword case, then suddenly burst out laughing. "You stupid kid, are you an idiot or what? Just because you're lodging in an ancient temple, you think you're a Buddha or a bodhisattva who saves the suffering?"
Chen Ping'an hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Senior Song, what must I do for you to let this fox spirit go?"
The black-clad old man, Song Yushao, stood up and said heavily, "Since you, boy, are also someone of the jianghu who uses a sword, I'll use the sword strike I meant for the fox immortal on you instead. If you can receive it, this matter in the temple is settled. Whether this fox immortal later does good or evil, the karmic consequences will be borne by you from now on. If you can't receive it and die under my sword, blame your own lack of skill for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. What do you say?"
Xu Yuanxia and Zhang Shanfeng also stood up, on high alert.
Song Yushao laughed heartily. "It doesn't matter. If you two want to join in, I'll just use two more sword strikes. The same rule applies."
The old man's laughter was loud and full of energy, shaking the decayed beams in the ancient temple and sending down countless specks of dust.
"Agreed!"
Chen Ping'an nodded, then shook his head at Xu Yuanxia and Zhang Shanfeng, signaling them not to interfere.
"Watch yourself."
The old man wasn't one to dawdle. After giving the warning, he swung his sword down.
The distance between them was no more than three yards. The sword light and blade aura struck in front of Chen Ping'an in an instant.
A Cun Inch Ground-Spanning Talisman had already slid into Chen Ping'an's sleeve. It was made of ordinary yellow paper. He pinched it between two fingers. The moment the sword qi was upon him, Chen Ping'an's figure vanished from where he stood.
The black-clad old man gave a scoffing laugh.
So that streak of sword qi, after slashing at empty space, continued forward—right in the direction where the snow-white fox was curled up on the ground.
The Cun Inch Talisman, derived from Li Xisheng's gift of the "True Calligraphy of the Dan," was mysterious and wondrous, but it was a one-time consumable. After Chen Ping'an activated this talisman, he had already appeared on the empty ground about six yards away. But when he realized that the sword qi was still continuing toward the fox spirit, he didn't have time to pull out another talisman. He could only dig his toes in and leap forward swiftly, while at the same time reaching back to grip the hilt of the locust wood sword "Demon Vanquisher" on his shoulder, and slash at the sword qi in midair.
Although it was a sword stroke, when it came down to it, Chen Ping'an's foundation was still his fist techniques.
He followed the ferocious style of the "Iron Cavalry Charge Formation" taught by the old man surnamed Cui. But using a wooden sword instead of fist techniques, and with his physical body and soul only at the third realm of martial arts, and not being a grandmaster capable of seamlessly integrating fist techniques and sword intent—naturally, in the eyes of a true expert, this hasty strike looked quite awkward.
The locust wood sword, flowing with fist intent, struck the old man's sword qi, forcibly slowing its advance toward killing the young fox immortal.
For a moment, sword light exploded and sword qi splattered everywhere.
Chen Ping'an held the locust wood sword, settled his feet, then turned in a misstep to shield the fox demon behind him. He waved his sword wildly at the scattered sword qi—his entire swordsmanship stance was nothing but a set of "turtle punches," as someone had once teased him.
Daoist Zhang Shanfeng breathed a sigh of relief, then couldn't bear to look.
The big-bearded man covered his forehead with his hand and said helplessly, "I thought this guy's fist techniques were pretty good. Carrying a sword case for so long, he must be a hidden young swordsman..."
The sword qi in front of him was completely shattered. Chen Ping'an finished his moves and hurriedly weighed the locust wood sword in his hand. Even though it was a light wooden sword, it was extremely tough. Against the overwhelming sword qi of that sword dao grandmaster from Shushui Kingdom, there wasn't a single nick or flaw on the entire blade. Chen Ping'an's heart was greatly reassured.
The black-clad old man smiled carelessly and said self-deprecatingly, "I never thought there would still be someone in this world who blocks one of my sword strikes with a set of turtle punches. Fine, I keep my word. You, little boy, received it, so you received it. I won't trouble that fox spirit on the ground anymore. Both of you—one human, one demon—take care of yourselves. Just know that karmic retribution is never delayed. I hope you cherish this bond, whose good or evil is still unknown for now."
The old man sheathed his sword. He had been sitting cross-legged this whole time, but now he finally stood up, turned, and left. After walking out of the temple gate, he looked up at the dark night sky and muttered, "Demons and monsters that can't be slain, evil spirits that can't be killed—when will it ever end?"
This founding ancestor of Jianshui Manor suddenly turned his head and smiled. "The four of you, if you're interested, you can come to my manor. The manor is currently electing the martial arts alliance leader of Shushui Kingdom. At least it counts as a grand jianghu event. If you arrive at the manor, I'll most likely not be there. You can go directly to the oldest steward, Steward Chu, and say that you are friends I met on the jianghu. At the very least, there'll be a few cups of thin wine."
The old man finally looked at Chen Ping'an. "Tonight, this patience of yours—'doing a good deed even more rightly and better'—I too had it, no less than you, from my youth to my middle age, until my later years. But... ah, an old man's dreary words shouldn't be spoken to a young lad. In any case, I hope you can hold on to it."
The old man in his twilight years patted the long sword at his waist and silently walked away into the night.
Chen Ping'an was lost in thought. When he came back to himself, he turned his head and widened his eyes—the young fox immortal had disappeared without a trace.
The big-bearded man pointed at his own face and teased, "Chen Ping'an, oh Chen Ping'an! A hero saves a beauty—whether the beauty will offer herself to you afterward depends on this!"
Chen Ping'an put the locust wood sword into the wooden case crafted by Wei Bo, jogged back to the fire, and stretched his hands toward the flames. He glanced casually at Liu Chicheng, who was sitting across from him yawning. The latter grinned cheekily. "What are you staring at? Finally starting to envy my handsome looks? Ah, actually, I envy you too, Chen Ping'an. If I had half your martial arts, I'd already be the dream lover of thousands of female knights and fairy maidens on the jianghu!"
Chen Ping'an rolled his eyes, took down his wine gourd, tipped his head back, and took a big gulp.
After drinking, Chen Ping'an gripped the gourd, his heart surging with emotion. He was nowhere as composed on the surface as he appeared.
The reason he hadn't called out the two little ancestors from the Sword-Nurturing Gourd to intercept Jianshui Manor's Song Yushao's sword qi, instead throwing himself into danger, was not because Chen Ping'an was acting on impulse.
Chen Ping'an sighed, stood up, and walked to the open ground. After putting away his wine gourd, he closed his eyes and carefully savored the three sword strikes of the old Sword Saint of Shushui Kingdom. The first had struck the altar, forcing the fox immortal to reveal herself. The second was the flick of his wrist that formed a net of sword qi. The third, of course, was the sword that had come straight at Chen Ping'an.
Chen Ping'an still hadn't opened his eyes, but he slowly drew the locust wood sword, imitating the old man by holding it horizontally before his chest—like a sword in its sheath, about to be drawn but not yet drawn.
For some reason, no matter how much Chen Ping'an thought about it, he felt that even if he copied the form a thousand or ten thousand times, he would never learn it—not even close in spirit, probably not even in form.
This was completely different from when he had watched Miss Ning practice the Six-Step Fist Stance back then.
So drawing a sword was, after all, different from practicing fists.
Chen Ping'an sighed again and had to put away the locust wood sword that had accompanied him on two jianghu journeys.
Someone laughed. "Chen Ping'an, your wooden sword is too light, so the flavor will never be right. 'Handling a heavy object as if it's light' is a high realm in the sword dao. You're a beginner, not some prodigy in swordsmanship, so of course everything feels off. Don't talk about reaching the summit; just talking about entering the gate—for fist practice, having a moderately famous master to guide you is enough. But for learning the sword, you still need an enlightened teacher to lead the way. You really should have sincerely asked Song Yushao about the sword dao. This man's martial arts realm isn't high, but he has already walked out his own sword path. That's not easy."
Chen Ping'an turned his head to look.
This insightful opinion hadn't come from the big-bearded man, nor even from Zhang Shanfeng, who could fly on his peach wood sword. Instead, it came from Liu Chicheng, the scholar who seemed least connected to the jianghu. When he spoke these words, Liu Chicheng was standing beside the blazing fire, which had been fed with many dry branches. The firelight cast his tall, slender shadow, which swayed slowly with the flames.
Zhang Shanfeng was consulting Xu Yuanxia about the techniques of jianghu acupoint-sealing, answering questions and asking others, very focused, so he didn't pay much attention to Liu Chicheng's words.
Or rather, the two of them hadn't even heard Liu Chicheng's words at all.
Because from beginning to end, Liu Chicheng had never spoken aloud. Yet Chen Ping'an had clearly heard Liu Chicheng's voice.
Chen Ping'an asked a strange question. "Was it you? In Yanjuan City, Prefect Liu told me privately that you were actually a Golden Core realm immortal, because you had displayed a divine power outside the city."
Liu Chicheng waved his hand, slowly walked around the fire to Chen Ping'an's side, and said cheerfully, "Alright, let's stop scheming against each other. You already know I'm a great demon, and I already know that the sword you carry on your back has great origins. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been unable to suppress itself just now, spontaneously vibrating when it sensed my aura. You calmed it down quickly, but I'm not blind or deaf, so now we both know the truth. Chen Ping'an, can you tell me—who forged this sword? And when you deliver it to Daoxuan Mountain, whose hands is it going to?"
Chen Ping'an's expression was grave. "Are you going to steal the sword?"
"Liu Chicheng" narrowed his eyes, as if he had heard an extremely funny joke. He clasped his hands behind his back and shook his head with a smile. "The sword is a good sword, but I truly have no interest in it. I know you don't believe that, but it doesn't matter. I'm far stronger than you. All you need to do is watch what I do. By the way, have you ever heard the saying: 'The finest things in the world are never sturdy; colorful clouds scatter easily, and colored glass is fragile'?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "I've seen it in poems."
Liu Chicheng flicked his sleeve. A hazy smoke and mist, clouds and fog, shrouded the scene. When looking from the campfire side, everything seemed normal—"Liu Chicheng" was chatting amiably with Chen Ping'an. In reality, this scholar from Baishui Kingdom, wearing a pink Daoist robe, stood tall and elegant. The scene was utterly bizarre.
Liu Chicheng continued. "'Colorful clouds scatter easily' refers to the Colorful Cloud Pavilion in Baidi City, where clouds and rays gather and scatter like flying smoke, a magnificent scenery."
"'Colored glass is fragile' refers to a great demon who once came from the demonic lineage of Baidi City. He had a dispute with his senior brother over a seemingly insignificant little demon spirit, just like tonight's conflict. One fought for the greater trend of the world, the other for a small point of reason. The senior and junior brothers broke ties over it. Looking back now, it's ridiculous and laughable, like children throwing a tantrum. Anyway, in a fit of rage, I smashed an entire glass pavilion in Baidi City's Colorful Cloud Pavilion, leaving only a few small glass wine cups. I then left Baidi City and wandered the world. Without my sect's protection, I was pursued and intercepted for thousands of miles by self-righteous righteous leaders. Eventually, I was thrown into a prison and suppressed for a thousand years. My senior brother, from beginning to end, just stood by and watched."
Chen Ping'an frowned. "Why are you telling me all this?"
Liu Chicheng smiled faintly, flicked his hands, shook the wide sleeves of his pink Daoist robe, folded his hands over his abdomen, and exuded a stern aura. "Because I've recently had the idea of taking on a disciple. I think you, Chen Ping'an, are quite suitable. I can teach you the most supreme swordsmanship in the world. Although I am a native demon of the Haoran World, like my senior brother who is a leader of the demonic sect yet is more like an immortal than the immortals themselves, many cultivators of orthodox schools are willing to bow and worship him. So the swordsmanship I teach you will also be an orthodox method that can help you reach the summit of the great path. When the opportunity comes, you have hope of directly reaching the Upper Five Realms. Remember, the word 'orthodox' in 'orthodox method' is not a word to be used lightly. Figures like Song Yushao, though they have found their own true sword path, are limited pure martial artists with average talent. Their martial arts peak at most can help you reach a position similar to a Mid Five Realm sword cultivator. Chen Ping'an, what do you think? Are you willing to follow me and cultivate the great path as my disciple?"
Chen Ping'an asked back, "To become a demon head?"
Liu Chicheng smiled. "In my view, the great path is rugged and difficult. Only those who are tenacious and unyielding can walk to the end, and even have hope of going farther and higher than those brilliant, gifted children of heaven. You, Chen Ping'an, are of the same kind as me. I have already taken in a senior brother for you. Don't worry, you are my last disciple. Within at most a hundred years, the three of us, master and disciples, will surely become famous throughout the world, return to Baidi City, and carve out a place for ourselves there."
Liu Chicheng gazed into Chen Ping'an's eyes and smiled. "The sect where my senior brother and I originally belonged was very interesting. My senior brother was human who cultivated demonic arts. I am a demon who cultivates human divine abilities. The tenet established by our master was precisely the four words 'teaching without discrimination.' This is very similar to the invincible second disciple under the Dao Ancestor. Besides Baidi City, there are several major lineages in the demonic world, each with immense power and intricate connections. Even orthodox immortal sects with the word 'sect' in their names have to yield to their edge. So as long as your fists are hard enough and your realm is high enough, all this talk of demonic and orthodox paths is nonsense. It doesn't matter at all."
Chen Ping'an grinned. "Whether I acknowledge you as my master or not, I have to ask first."
Sweat had long ago beaded on his forehead, but at this moment, the boy carrying the sword case had a composed expression, not a trace of fear.
"Oh?"
Liu Chicheng's eyes lit up. "I knew you, kid, must have a decent master. No matter. Tell me about it. In the end, it's not shameful to assess the situation and choose a good tree to perch in. I won't force you, and I certainly won't try to scare you with words. As long as your master is above me, I absolutely won't insist on this master-disciple relationship."
The old scholar of the Literary Saint Sect had, as expected, already left Baoping Continent long ago. Where could Chen Ping'an find him?
And Mr. Qi had passed away, so there was no way to rely on him.
But Chen Ping'an absolutely didn't want to follow this person to cultivate any so-called heavenly path.
Chen Ping'an took a deep breath. Then he would gamble once.
Win or lose, it all came down to this moment.
If it really didn't work, he would just have to fight with his life on the line. If that didn't work either, then as A Liang said, the sky is big, the earth is vast, and living is the most important thing. He would acknowledge "Liu Chicheng" as his master. No matter what, he had to deliver the sword to Daoxuan Mountain first and personally hand it to Miss Ning before thinking about anything else!
No one knew that, on his first journey escorting Li Baoping and the others to Great Sui, and later following the young Cui Chan back to Huangting Kingdom, why did Chen Ping'an, every single time, at the top of high mountains and beside great rivers, insist on practicing the standing sword furnace stance? And even after finishing his practice, he would stand there for a long time.
Even on this solitary jianghu journey, just like last time in Yanjuan City when he watched Liu Gaoxin depart, Chen Ping'an still sat alone on the high rooftop, in this year's last spring breeze, drinking wine and murmuring to himself.
And in those moments that no one ever pondered deeply, the spring breeze would linger around his sleeves.
Deep in his heart, Chen Ping'an knew that person had certainly passed away. But that person had also once said.
When in doubt, ask the spring breeze.
Then, Liu Chicheng couldn't help but laugh, delighted, because he found it amusing.
He saw the young boy before him, copying him—shaking his wrist, lifting his sleeves.
But Liu Chicheng soon stopped smiling.
Between the boy's raised hands, wisps of spring breeze joyfully coiled around his sleeves, like green dragons swimming through a sea of clouds.
Chen Ping'an asked softly, "Mr. Qi?"
Liu Chicheng's heart shook violently. At this moment, it was almost like the great battle a thousand years ago, when he faced that Heavenly Master Zhang, who held a celestial sword in one hand and a dharma seal in the other!
A warm, mellow voice sounded beside Chen Ping'an. "I am here."