# Chapter 249: A Riot of Purple and Crimson Blooms
(The author recommends two places: one is the "Sword Comes" circle on the Zongheng app, and the other is the Sword Comes Baidu Tieba. Often, incredible people appear there, and many posts analyzing the plot are very impressive.)
The ferry port where Chen Ping'an boarded his ship was not the same as the one heading to Yunsong Kingdom. After paying ten Snowflake Coins, receiving a wooden token, and returning the seal talisman granted by the Grand Governor's mansion, Chen Ping'an followed several dozen people toward the dock. The location turned out to be the entrance to an underground cavern. The opening was five or six zhang wide, covered with cliffside carvings from various dynasties left by immortal masters and famous figures: "Fish Scale Immortal Realm," "Long Sun and Moon Within the Pot," "Yaolin Cave Heaven." Most of the calligraphy strokes were vigorous and powerful. Once inside, the space opened up, bright and spacious. The group descended single file along the stone steps. After proceeding for the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, they entered a massive cave hall. On the eastern and western stone walls were lifelike flying apsaras murals, their wide sleeves trailing, their expressions ethereal. The women's faces were clearly visible, their figures plump yet not cumbersome.
Docked at the shore was a three-story tower ship, with dragon head and tail carvings at the bow and stern. Apart from its massive size, almost comparable to a kingdom's war lake vessel, its design seemed no different from ordinary civilian ferries. Besides Chen Ping'an's group, over three hundred people had already gathered there, bustling with activity. At the dock were various shops and stalls, mostly exquisite and delicate. They didn't hang plaques or couplets, only signboards outside the doors, selling calligraphy, paintings, pastries, fruits, and some local specialties from surrounding countries, such as small tapestries and cockfighting cups from Caiyi Kingdom, pine needle calligraphy from Songxi Kingdom, and elm leaf carvings and root-carved arhats from Guyu Kingdom.
Earlier, Chen Ping'an had paid ten Snowflake Coins to rent a single-person cabin on the second floor. The first floor would have cost only three coins, or three thousand taels of silver. Although this was an immortal ferry port and the journey was long, this price was still quite alarming compared to travel expenses in the secular world. Fortunately, Chen Ping'an had ridden on a Kun ship before, so he wasn't easily startled. At the Qingfu Workshop, he had sold the Wuyue True Form Bowl and the Lightning-Struck Ebony, gaining an additional four hundred and fifty Snowflake Coins—a decent profit. Plus, since Chen Ping'an needed to practice his boxing and walking stances every day, he had to spend this money; it wasn't something he could skimp on.
A Qi refiner at the dock sat on a small stone platform by the shore, lounging in a grand armchair, holding a tea cup covered in partridge spots. He drank countless sips, yet the tea never seemed to run out. He announced loudly to the crowd that the ferry would head south in half an hour. Before boarding, they could buy some inexpensive local specialties to take home. Then he emphasized the tapestries of Caiyi Kingdom and the potted plants of Shanlan Kingdom, exaggerating and praising them to the skies, even giving the signboard names of two shops. Sure enough, many ferry passengers were tempted and went to those two stores to spend lavishly. This left the other shop owners either glaring with white eyes or showing envy. Money makes the world go round; since they hadn't greased the wheels, this was the result.
Chen Ping'an stood silently in the crowd. He suddenly thought of Liu Gaohua, the son of the Governor of Rouge Prefecture, and the tree spirit scholar from Guyu Kingdom, along with the cockfighting cups they had carried. He had heard that elsewhere, the price of those cups doubled or tripled, so he went and bought a pair—one Snowflake Coin for two. He placed the boxwood case containing the cups into his cloth bundle, then used real gold and silver to buy some fresh fruits, carrying a big bag in his hand.
Amid the sea of people, the youth wore straw sandals, carried a sword case on his back, slung a cotton bundle diagonally across his body, and held a bag of fruits in his hand.
Although there were many people, only two or three steps apart from each other, compared to the noise of prefectural markets, this immortal ferry port was much quieter. Most people gathered in small groups, whispering softly; few spoke loudly. Some children who couldn't suppress their lively nature were held tightly by elders, strictly forbidden from running around.
After all, this was the legendary gathering place of immortals.
Mountain Qi refiners, when traveling abroad, would never carve their sect's name on their foreheads, nor would they reveal their true cultivation realm.
The Lower Five Realms and Middle Five Realms, totaling ten realms—these realms were fixed, but people were alive. The sages say that human nature is similar, but habits differ widely. The Great Path is long, often requiring decades or centuries of cultivation. Who knows what a Qi refiner's temperament will ultimately become? If one acts without restraint, relying solely on fists and cultivation to do as they please, they will surely be pinned down by someone else one day and taught a lesson.
However, those fortunate enough to be born into a sect-level immortal mansion, such as the Sheng'ao Sect, True Martial Mountain, Wind and Snow Temple, and especially the Lake-Viewing Academy that intimidates the entire Bottle Gourd Continent—even if not a direct disciple, they still have the right to strut across the continent, as if wearing an invisible "peace and safety" charm.
Alternatively, having a Golden Core or Nascent Soul realm master as a teacher is also a powerful protective talisman.
Grudges on the mountains could involve matters spanning several lifetimes of ordinary mortals. Therefore, enemies should be reconciled rather than entangled. Wind and Thunder Garden and Zhengyang Mountain were the best examples. How was the once-exalted immortal maiden Su Jia doing now? Her world-class Sword Nurturing Gourd had been confiscated by her sect, her sword heart and cultivation shattered together. It was said she had completely vanished without a trace. How many young Qi refiners who admired her were still grieving?
Chen Ping'an remained silent, just taking off his wine gourd and drinking, waiting for the ferry to depart south. This journey south by boat would be two hundred thousand li, taking two months. At the disembarkation dock, there would be another immortal ferry directly to Old Dragon City, and then from Old Dragon City, they would cross continents to reach Inverted Mountain and enter Sword Qi Great Wall. So, there would be no more opportunities to travel the martial world with friends. Even if he wanted to drink, he could only drink alone.
The ferry was about to set sail, and passengers began boarding one after another. Chen Ping'an found his room on the second floor. Compared to the Heaven-class room on the Kun ship he had boarded at Wutong Mountain dock, this one was extremely cramped and narrow, with only a single bed and a small balcony outside that could accommodate only two people standing.
Chen Ping'an put down the bag of fruits that cost over a dozen taels of silver, took off his sword case and cloth bundle, and sat on the neat and comfortable bed. For no reason, he thought of his ancestral home's wooden plank bed in Mud Bottle Alley. Chen Ping'an lay back. Poor people fear winter; rich people fear summer. But it seemed the wealthy had many ways to escape the heat, not to mention the miraculous mountain Qi refiners.
Chen Ping'an sat up, rolled up his sleeves and pant legs, revealing faint talisman patterns on his wrists and above his ankles. True Qi slowly circulated, as if wrapped in an invisible burden. They didn't look very noticeable, and the "Dan Shu Zhen Ji" (True Records of the Alchemy Book) given by Li Xisheng had no record of them. This was the work of Old Man Yang, known as the Eight Liang True Qi Talisman. The old man didn't elaborate, only saying it could help a pure martial artist while sleeping soundly to use True Qi circulation to temper the body. Moreover, once Chen Ping'an broke through to the True Qi Realm, these four talismans would disperse on their own. If he couldn't break through the bottleneck, he was to go to the southernmost tip of Bottle Gourd Continent, to Old Dragon City, and find a Zheng Dafeng at a dusty medicine shop, letting that former town gatekeeper help remove the bindings.
Chen Ping'an rolled down his sleeves and pant legs, walked to the ferry balcony. According to the local records of Shushui Kingdom, this underground waterway was formed when the last true dragon in the world, pursued by immortals, dove underground. It carved out this passage with its massive body, eventually emerging at the cave entrance in Shushui Kingdom, then riding the wind north to Great Dali, where the great battle ended, giving rise to the Lizhu Small Cave Heaven. Hence, this waterway was commonly called the "Dragon Path."
There were two waterways on the left and right sides of the river, allowing northbound and southbound ferries to pass each other. In the middle stood an endlessly long railing. Every ten or so li, a lantern hanging on the stone wall glowed brightly, illuminating the surrounding river channel brilliantly. But at night, the lanterns would be extinguished to allow passengers to sleep without being disturbed by the light.
The neighboring rooms on either side were somewhat noisy, apparently housing many people. At the dock, the rules for second-floor rooms were relatively loose; a room could accommodate up to five people. If there were no beds to lie on, they could just sleep on the floor. After all, ten Snowflake Coins was not a small expense. It was not easy for Qi refiners to cultivate, especially wild cultivators without roots. Making money, especially big money, was extremely risky. Without shortcuts or connections, it was no exaggeration to say that every coin was earned through blood and sweat, with their lives on the line. It was only human nature to want to split every Snowflake Coin into eight pieces.
Chen Ping'an's room faced the other side of the waterway. As the ferry began to move, he noticed that near the first-floor deck railing, many people were already holding fishing rods with empty hooks—no bait—but the hooks glowed with fluorescence as they cast them directly into the underground river, using a brute-force method of dragging fish.
Occasionally, small fish the size of a palm would bite, be hauled onto the deck, and casually tossed into a fish basket. However, if someone caught a silver shrimp as white as snow, about a finger long, the angler would be overjoyed. This creature was unique to this underground river. In Shushui Kingdom, it was simply called "River Dragon," while in the south, it was nicknamed "Silver." This thing could absorb water essence and spirit energy and was a delicacy for gourmands.
The juvenile shrimp was half an inch long. After a dozen or so years, it could grow to a finger's length. After a hundred years, it would barely reach two fingers, like a general clad in jade armor, yet exquisitely translucent. Such a century-old "River Dragon," abundant in spiritual energy and extremely delicious, could fetch an exorbitant price of half a Snowflake Coin in the south.
If a first-floor passenger could catch six large "Silvers," it would be equivalent to riding the ferry for free. Making big money while passing the time—why not? However, catching a finger-length River Dragon was easy, but getting a two-finger-long one to bite depended on fate and luck. The waterway at Shushui Kingdom dock had been excavated for a thousand years. Legend had it that someone once caught a three-foot-long River Dragon with golden shrimp whiskers, astonishing everyone. It was eventually sold to the Lord of Old Dragon City, but how much that immensely wealthy great immortal paid was unknown to the outside world.
Chen Ping'an himself had loved fishing since childhood. So, he set aside all worries for once, leaned on the railing, and watched the fishermen for a while. He thought that there should be fishing rods for sale on the ship, though he didn't know if they were expensive. If he could get one for one or two Snowflake Coins, then besides practicing boxing, he could indeed try his luck at the railing.
Returning to his room, Chen Ping'an ate the fruits, which had no spiritual energy besides being fresh, and began to plan his boxing practice. The journey of two hundred thousand li would take two months. During that time, they would stop at various countries' immortal docks for rest and resupply, totaling about four or five days. This ferry was significantly slower than a Kun ship, which was normal. A Kun ship was a cross-continent ferry operated by Dajiao Mountain, a major sect in North Juzhou, far beyond this ferry's capabilities.
Chen Ping'an roughly calculated: if he subtracted the time for eating, sleeping, and miscellaneous matters, leaving about two to three shichen, he would strive to practice boxing for nine to ten shichen each day. Plus, he had the advantage of transitioning from slow to fast punches. That meant he could perform approximately three thousand six hundred stances per day with his six-step walking stance. Over sixty days, that would be about two hundred thousand repetitions of boxing forms.
It sounded like a simple calculation, but when actually put into practice, Chen Ping'an, who was extremely proficient in boxing, knew it could drive a person mad. Even he, who considered his willpower acceptable, found it difficult. Previously, whether he was going to Great Sui or heading south to Shushui Kingdom, he had encountered mountains and rivers along the way, each offering its own scenery. But this time on the ship, he was confined to a tiny square space, as if facing a wall in meditation.
Most importantly, the walking stance practice was different from the ordeal of learning boxing from the old man in the bamboo building. The latter was more about enduring the "fast blade short pain" of physical and spiritual torment. The former, seemingly relaxed and leisurely, with one punch after another, became more like a slow knife cutting flesh in prolonged pain—like that snowy day when they entered Dali from the ancient plank road in Huangting Kingdom. Toward the end, every breath felt like swallowing a knife.
No wonder the old man said that a martial artist's tempering involves not only struggling against heaven and earth, bearing the mountain-like crushing pain on the body, but also struggling against one's own heart, simmering slowly to refine a single word: "steadfast."
Chen Ping'an took a deep breath, closed the balcony door, and began his walking stance. His steps were light, his punches were fast, and his fist intent flowed.
After that, it was this monotonous, unending routine day and night. Chen Ping'an didn't even go to the ferry's restaurant to eat; he just made do with dried rations and wine for all three meals.
After the start of summer, even though the underground river channel was cool, Chen Ping'an was still drenched in sweat. He walked his stance from the door to the wooden door at the edge of the balcony, then turned around and did it again. Over time, the floor of the room was covered with water stains from sweat. Every time he exhausted himself from practice, he would take a short rest. In this cramped room, unlike his previous travels where he had various concerns, he just focused on practicing boxing. In a day of twelve shichen, subtracting two shichen for sleep and several rests, he spent a full nine shichen throwing punches. He was completely oblivious to everything else, as if the world consisted only of this tiny space. No more famous mountains and great rivers, no more surging rivers, mountain breezes, or biting rain and snow. It felt as if spring, summer, autumn, winter, birth, aging, sickness, and death only existed within this square zhang.
After twenty days, the wooden door to the viewing balcony hadn't been opened once.
In the darkness, Chen Ping'an lay on the floor, his clothes soaked through, the floor wet, like a fish pulled ashore, gasping for breath.
Chen Ping'an's lips twitched. He wanted to laugh but couldn't. What if that assassination expert, the Lord of the Mailou Tower, chose this moment to ambush him?
He lowered his gaze to his Sword Nurturing Gourd. He could only rely on these two little ancestors, right?
In the next ten days, Chen Ping'an had to remove the wine gourd from his waist and even take off his straw sandals. He rolled up his sleeves and pant legs, walking the stance barefoot in the room, practicing boxing.
The fourth realm of martial arts, transitioning from body tempering to Qi refinement, seemed to need just one breath to cross the remaining foot. But that one foot was stuck deep in the mud, and no matter how hard Chen Ping'an tried, he couldn't pull it out. After a full month of boxing, the progress was still slow, only managing to extract that foot slightly from the mire.
During breaks from boxing, the outside world wasn't completely silent. The neighbors on either side, after getting used to ferry life, no longer restrained themselves. The room to the left seemed to be occupied by a group of martial heroes. Every day, they drank heavily and ate large chunks of meat, discussing grudges in the martial world. However, they mostly spoke in the official languages of other countries, occasionally bursting out with a few sentences in the refined language of Bottle Gourd Continent. When Chen Ping'an reached his extreme state of practice, he would jump out of the mysterious state of "self-forgetting." Then, even the slightest noise sounded like a spring thunderclap. Listening to their loud talks, Chen Ping'an felt somewhat irritated.
The room to the right seemed to be occupied by mountain immortal masters from a minor sect traveling down the mountain. They were relatively quiet, but their morning and evening cultivation lessons involved reciting their sect's rituals in unison. The wooden partitions didn't block sound well, and these Lower Five Realm Qi refiners used their unique breathing techniques—another annoying matter.
If these things were still tolerable, then there was one thing that happened every few days that made Chen Ping'an laugh and cry.
On the third floor of the ferry lived the wealthy people. The room above Chen Ping'an's seemed to be occupied by a pair of mountain immortal lovers. They were exceptionally affectionate, often causing the bed to creak and shake. Through the floor, it reached the lower levels. That would have been fine, but the female Qi refiner seemed unable to restrain herself, often "crying out" in a soft, whining tone, clearly being "abused" by the man. Chen Ping'an just couldn't understand: if the woman was suffering so much, then don't go along with the man every time! Since they were husband and wife, why not have an open discussion and reason together?
Chen Ping'an felt helpless. He couldn't very well go knock on their door and tell the man to be gentler with his Dao companion and not to press his advantage. Matters within other people's bedrooms were not something he, as an outsider, could comment on. It would be unfeeling and certainly not reasonable. However, Chen Ping'an also noticed that he disliked the disturbance from upstairs. Those martial heroes to the left, on the other hand, loved it. Whenever the bed creaked and the woman whimpered filtered down, they would immediately stop talking, grinning slyly. From the few sentences in the Bottle Gourd Continent refined language that Chen Ping'an could understand, he learned the truth: they were actually observing as if watching a pinnacle battle between martial arts grandmasters, discussing it with great seriousness.
The mountain immortal masters to the right seemed quite attuned as well. When encountering this situation, the four of them would tactfully fall silent, but their breathing was noticeably more disordered than usual.
They seemed quite angry and annoyed too.
Fortunately, Chen Ping'an gradually began to adapt to these disturbances that hindered his boxing mindset.
One time, in broad daylight, the bed above shook so hard it seemed to rumble, and the woman wept loudly. Chen Ping'an just silently drank his wine and ate his dried rations, only hoping the floor wouldn't collapse and crash down on his head along with the bed.
The ferry made several stops at other docks along the way. Since Chen Ping'an hadn't even opened his door once, he didn't get to experience the customs of the southern countries.
Chen Ping'an calculated the time. It was now around the time of Grain in Ear. Back in his hometown, this was the busy farming season. There was a saying: "At Grain in Ear, sow millet and urgently plant grain." Even some young men who worked at the dragon kilns firing ceramics would be allowed to go home to help. In the past, Yao, the old kiln foreman at his dragon kiln, although bad-tempered and prone to scolding, was very generous with such matters. Other kilns usually only gave three days off, but Old Man Yao would give four or five. It was just tough on poor kiln workers like Liu Xianyang and Chen Ping'an, who had long lost their ancestral farmland. Since the kilns were short-handed, and the dragon kiln fire didn't care whether you were shorthanded or not, Chen Ping'an actually found this time of year more exhausting than working in the fields.
Chen Ping'an had now been practicing boxing for a full month, and he had unknowingly performed a full hundred thousand stance repetitions.
His greatest interest at the moment was to find out if any of the fishermen on the boat had caught a rare two-finger-long River Dragon.
Another day of boxing practice reached noon. Chen Ping'an suddenly noticed that there was still some wine left in his Sword Nurturing Gourd, but his dried rations weren't enough for three meals. He had no choice but to hang his gourd, put on his sword case, wear his straw sandals, and push open the door for the first time, planning to go to a restaurant at the stern to buy some easily storable food. It wasn't far. Since it was mealtime, passengers were coming and going. When Chen Ping'an walked out, the group of martial heroes from the left room was also heading out to find food. Chen Ping-an slowed his pace slightly, keeping a distance of five or six steps behind the five of them. One of them couldn't help but look back at this strange neighbor they were seeing for the first time. Soon, someone tugged at his sleeve, signaling him not to cause trouble.
That person quickly averted his gaze. A young swordsman carrying a wooden case, traveling alone in the martial world, young and looking composed and steady—it was indeed best not to provoke him. If he really was a one-in-ten-thousand sword cultivator, then their group, even if they came from respectable backgrounds and were considered prestigious martial arts sects in the mortal world, still wouldn't be able to afford offending him.
On the mountains and below, it's better to be safe than sorry. Riding this immortal ferry, "sorry" could be one in a hundred.
If you're unlucky, even drinking cold water can get stuck in your teeth. If you truly hit that one-in-one-hundred-and-ten bad luck, what then? Quarrel with a mountain Qi refiner?
This martial artist had once been fortunate enough to witness a sword cultivator in action from a distance. That young sword immortal was barely twenty, but after his natal flying sword left its sheath, his sword aura was like a rainbow, invincible. Facing several renowned martial world overlords—sword sect masters who spat sword aura, and fist technique grandmasters with diamond-like bodies impervious to blades—poke, poke, poke, thud, thud, thud—they all ended up with holes in their heads courtesy of the mountain sword immortal.
Ordinary Qi refiners were still manageable, as not all were adept at offense. But contending with mountain sword cultivators, especially sword immortals who had nurtured a natal flying sword, was like an old man eating arsenic—he was tired of living.
The journey was uneventful. In the crowded restaurant, Chen Ping'an bought several catties of dry flatbread from a waiter, paid the money, and returned to his room. After closing the door, he opened the balcony's wooden door, stood on the balcony, and gnawed on the flatbread, holding the Sword Nurturing Gourd to drink. Down on the first-floor deck railing, there were still a few sparse fishermen. But Chen Ping'an chewed slowly and drank in small sips, watching for two quarters of an hour. They only caught ordinary fish, not even a single juvenile Silver.
Chen Ping'an suddenly remembered something. Once, on a mountain peak, the young Cui Can had listlessly followed him in practicing the sword furnace standing stance and mentioned that there was an exceptional blessed land in the world, very special, connected to a cave heaven. The two were completely different from all other cave heavens and blessed lands. The Sheng'ao Sect in Nanjian Kingdom on Bottle Gourd Continent occupied a single blessed land called Qingtan Blessed Land. A blessed land was somewhat like a vassal state, but with a larger territory, self-contained, with varying sizes and levels of heavenly principles. They often produced abundant resources that could be continuously extracted by major immortal sects. The resulting pattern inevitably led to larger sects becoming even larger, and higher peaks reaching even higher. For example, Lizhu Cave Heaven was one of the thirty-six small cave heavens in Haoran World. Back then, the two siblings who turned the tide and extended the Song dynasty's reign—the "Twin Gems of Dali"—were prodigies who walked out of Lizhu Cave Heaven and were snatched up by the Dali Dynasty because of their proximity.
Heaven and earth are vast. Chen Ping'an, despite his two journeys, had yet to leave Bottle Gourd Continent, but he had already experienced something of this. And what Old Man Yang said about the town being unimaginably large—Chen Ping'an had also witnessed some of it.
However, on this southward journey, Chen Ping'an had missed many places. Some he couldn't reach in time because they would require a long detour—for example, the Green Gorge Island on the Letter-Swept Lake where Gu Can and his mother lived. Chen Ping'an hoped they were doing well, not being bullied. But he also hoped that Gu Can, after becoming a Qi refiner, wouldn't turn around and bully others, eventually becoming an immortal master like Fu Nanhua, the young lord of Old Dragon City.
Some places were temporarily unsuitable to visit—for instance, Zhengyang Mountain where the Moving Mountain Ape resided, the city of Breeze ruled by the Xu clan, and True Martial Mountain where Ma Kuxuan was.
Going there, he couldn't reason with them, couldn't beat them with his fists, and wasn't in Lizhu Cave Heaven anymore. Without the restraints of Master Qi and Master Ruan, he would just be crushed underfoot. Chen Ping'an was self-aware enough to know this.
Chen Ping'an drank his wine. At the restaurant, he had learned that tomorrow, the ferry would stop for half a day at Gaoyu Dock. Passengers could disembark to enjoy the scenery. Near the dock was a famous scenic spot called Taiye Pool. This season, the mountain flowers were in full bloom. By simply walking out of the dock and heading to the nearest hilltop, one would be surrounded by the sounds of birds and the fragrance of flowers. If lucky, one could even catch a flower spirit known as "Fragrant Grass Maiden." They naturally emitted a delicate, elegant fragrance, making them the best living sachets, loved by female Qi refiners and wealthy ladies.
Chen Ping'an thought it would be nice to go out for a walk, to clear his mind and get some air. A whole month of staying cooped up inside was making him feel like he was going moldy.
Having made up his mind, Chen Ping'an turned and left the balcony, closed the door, and continued his boxing stance practice.
At dawn the next day, the ferry docked at the shore. The cavern hall was small and exquisite, filled with fragrance, offering a different charm from the spacious grandeur of Shushui Kingdom.
The ferry shook slightly. Chen Ping'an, who had slept less than two shichen, opened his eyes and began to pack his belongings. He had to take everything with him, not daring to leave anything in the room. Perhaps because Taiye Pool was famous and indeed a good place, Chen Ping'an noticed that almost all of the four hundred-plus passengers were getting off to see the sights.
Mixed in the flow of people, Chen Ping'an disembarked. A group of extraordinary men and women was beside him. The auras of two elderly men were particularly prolonged, like the slow flow of a river. Their footsteps were light and agile. Even if they weren't Middle Five Realm mountain immortals, they probably weren't far off. Chen Ping'an wasn't one to eavesdrop, but having been stuck in his room practicing boxing, he had no choice. Hearing them converse in Bottle Gourd Continent refined language, he subconsciously pricked up his ears.
They talked about the lay of the land from north to south of the continent, the latest movements of various major immortal mansions, and some anecdotes about famous figures from various dynasties and kingdoms.
Most of the conversation was light and casual. The two old men spoke the most. The young juniors beside them listened respectfully, rarely interjecting. When they did ask questions, it was always with the utmost deference, very different from some people in Chen Ping'an's memory—for instance, Liu Baqiao, the sword cultivator from Wind and Thunder Garden; Cao Jun, the Suo'e Continent sword cultivator from the Cao family ancestral home on Mud Bottle Alley; and more recently, Zhou Ju from the Lake-Viewing Academy. None of them seemed so reserved.
Finally, one old man, who had a small ink jade seal hanging from his waist, talked about the Kun ship from Dajiao Mountain crashing, causing heavy casualties. He was very angry. When speaking of the Dao Lord Heavenly Lord of Juzhou, although he admitted that the man's Dao magic was unrivaled and even Bottle Gourd Continent's own Dao Lord Qi Zhen might not have a sure victory, he nonetheless expressed disapproval of the Heavenly Lord's domineering behavior.
Another old man looked worried and said that although the Kun ship's crash was indeed caused by an eruption of sword qi that destroyed it, why would a central kingdom in Bottle Gourd Continent, with its many sword cultivators, go out of its way to shoot down a ferry from North Juzhou? What benefit was there? At that time, the only force capable of gathering so much sword qi would be the court of that great kingdom. But the emperor had personally gone to the Sheng'ao Sect, swearing it was no such thing. Subsequently, accompanied by Qi Zhen, he personally met with the Juzhou Continent Dao Lord Xie Shi, who only said that all matters would be investigated by Juzhou cultivators.
Near the cave entrance, Chen Ping'an suddenly stopped, then quickly quickened his pace. He cupped his fists toward the two old men and asked, "Two immortal masters, may I be so bold as to ask—what happened to the passengers on that Kun ship?"
One old man ignored him completely, not even glancing at the northern-accented youth carrying a sword on his back, and continued walking.
The old man with the seal, however, paused and patiently replied, "Almost none of the Lower Five Realm passengers survived. Even many Upper Five Realm Qi refiners died. At that time, countless streaks of sword qi surged from a mountain peak into the sky, no less than the full-force strike of an Upper Five Realm sword immortal. Imagine the power!"
Seeing the slight change in the youth's expression, the old man sighed and continued on his way.
Chen Ping'an stood still, jostled by the bustling crowd several times, completely oblivious. When he finally came to his senses, he found that almost everyone had already walked out of the cave entrance and gone to Taiye Pool to enjoy the scenery.
Chen Ping'an slowly walked to the cave entrance. Outside, the sunlight was bright. In the distance, he could see a large, gently sloping hilltop covered with a riot of brilliant flowers in full bloom.
After killing that snake-hearted woman in Rouge Prefecture, Chen Ping'an had actually obtained a treasure. But he hadn't put it up for sale at the Qingfu Workshop in Shushui Kingdom. It was a brush washer. Around the bottom edge of the brush washer were sixteen characters: Spring Flowers and Autumn Moon, Spring Wind and Autumn Tree, Spring Mountain and Autumn Stone, Spring Water and Autumn Frost. The characters were tiny, slowly rotating like tadpoles. Chen Ping'an liked the characters "Spring," and because on the Kun ship, there had been a pair of servant sisters whose names matched those characters. At that time, he had lamented why there was only Spring Water and not Autumn Fruit. He thought that if he ever had the chance to see them again—for instance, boarding the Dajiao Mountain Kun ship again at Wutong Mountain dock—he would definitely take out this brush washer to show them, so they would know that such a coincidental and interesting thing existed in the world.
Chen Ping'an stood at the cave entrance. There was no grief on his face, just a dazed look as he stared into the distance at the beautiful scenery.
Then, Chen Ping'an turned and walked back toward the ferry.
Behind him, a riot of purple and crimson blooms. The youth didn't look.
He boarded the ferry, returned to his second-floor room, closed the door, and continued his boxing practice.
Another month passed slowly. There were only two days left until disembarkation.
Late one night, Chen Ping'an had unknowingly completed two hundred thousand repetitions of his boxing stance.
He changed into clean clothes, barefoot, and opened the wooden door to the balcony. The ferry was unusually quiet. Seeing no one around, Chen Ping'an lightly leaped onto the railing and sat down. Facing the adjacent, quietly flowing waterway, he began to drink. He didn't think about anything. He just drank and drank until he finally realized the wine gourd was empty.
Inside his Sword Nurturing Gourd, there had been over ten catties of fine wine brewed at Sword Water Manor. Before boarding, the big-bearded man and the young Daoist had drunk some. Because he had been very restrained in his drinking over the past two months, it had lasted until now.
Chen Ping'an shook the gourd vigorously, the base of which was inscribed with "Jiang Hu." It was truly empty.
But unwilling to give up, he raised the gourd high, tilted his neck back, hoping for even a few drops.
Not a single drop remained. It was truly gone.
On a nearby waterway, a four-story ferry was approaching from the opposite direction. A passenger in a top-floor room, also sitting on the balcony railing, stared blankly at the youth who was vigorously shaking a Sword Nurturing Gourd, trying to get a drink. Finally, he resignedly lowered his arm, hugged the fine-looking Sword Nurturing Gourd with both hands, and rested his chin on the gourd's opening.
She thought this youth must have drunk himself silly.
Feeling playful, she lifted the emerald wine gourd in her hand, put her other hand to her mouth, and called out, "Over here, over here, little drunkard! I've got wine here—come and get it if you want!"
Chen Ping'an remained in his original posture. He glanced sideways at her.
A young woman in a dark green robe. Seeing his lack of reaction, she simply tossed her wine gourd in an arc. It drew a beautiful curve in the air, landing two zhang in front of Chen Ping'an, then whooshed back into her hand. The girl laughed uncontrollably, thoroughly amused.
The two ferries passed by each other.
Chen Ping'an's expression remained blank. His heart lake was utterly still. He just thought, *Is she some kind of fool?*
He secured his Sword Nurturing Gourd, flipped backward off the railing onto the balcony, closed the wooden door, and continued his boxing practice.
If the wine is gone, you can buy more. But if a person is gone? Chen Ping'an didn't know.
This was the first time Chen Ping'an stopped in the middle of his boxing practice, then, late at night, ran to the restaurant to buy wine. The restaurant had already closed for the night, its doors tightly shut. He had no choice but to return to his room and just keep practicing.