Chapter 252: A Clay Bodhisattva Steps on a Sword to Cross a River
(A chapter of 11,000 words.)
After paying the toll and entering Old Dragon City through the West Gate, they walked through a seemingly endless city gate tunnel. Sun Jiashu led Chen Ping'an onto a spacious carriage. At first glance, aside from the carriage being a bit larger and the horses pulling it being more docile, there was nothing that suggested the wealth of its owner. The driver was an old man who rarely smiled. When Chen Ping'an settled into the carriage, he discovered a hidden world inside. There were four plain white meditation cushions, and the wall facing the carriage curtain was lined with bookshelves reaching up to the ceiling, filled with books. A bronze incense burner with a beautiful patina emitted curling purple smoke. Chen Ping'an and Sun Jiashu sat facing each other. Chen Ping'an was actually a bit nervous, afraid of dirtying this spotless little "study" with his straw shoes. Sun Jiashu looked at Chen Ping'an's straw shoes and smiled. "When I was very young, according to family rules, my grandfather started taking me on travels across the land. Before I turned eighteen, we moved to a different place almost every year. So I've worked as a shop assistant, a fisherman and woodcutter, a rice shop vendor, a government clerk—all sorts of odd jobs, probably a dozen different trades. I actually know how to weave straw shoes myself, but they're rough and careless, nothing like those sturdy and finely woven ones on your feet."
Sun Jiashu sat cross-legged on his cushion, not at all lazy in posture, yet he still gave off an air of ease and composure. He smiled and asked, "Chen Ping'an, do you know what farm work I was most afraid of back in the day?"
Chen Ping'an was neither a fortune-telling immortal nor a worm in Sun Jiashu's belly, so of course he couldn't guess. Besides, Sun Jiashu was a strange person; despite having only met him not long ago, the impression he left grew more and more blurred the longer they spent together.
Sun Jiashu smiled faintly. "It was picking mulberry leaves. I'd finally fill a basket full of mulberry leaves, and my grandfather would reach out and press down gently on the basket, turning it half-full. I'd fill it again, and he'd press it down once more, forcing me to spend another half-day picking. It was enough to make one despair. And every time I went up the mountain, I'd get tiny scratches from the thorns and barks. When the sun beat down and sweat came out, it would sting like fire. On the other hand, planting rice seedlings in the fields and getting bitten by leeches was actually more interesting. My grandfather liked to smoke his pipe, and one touch from the hot pipe would make them fall off."
Chen Ping'an nodded in agreement. "Back in my hometown, getting bitten by a leech in a paddy field was a real hassle. You couldn't spare the salt and vinegar, so you had to wrestle with those annoying leeches for a long time, and in the end, your leg would be streaming with blood. Luckily, there was a kind of grass by the fields that we called 'Green Lady' in our dialect. If you stuck the leaf on the wound, it would stop the bleeding quickly. After I left my hometown, I never saw that grass again."
Sun Jiashu smiled and nodded. "Those who truly come from poor families aren't so particular, and they can endure more hardship. A rich young master like me can't compare. No matter how much suffering I go through, it's hard to match you. When I first started traveling with my grandfather, I'd throw a tantrum every few days, crying to go home. Looking back now, if I ever have a grandson like I was, I definitely wouldn't have the temper and patience my grandfather had back then."
Chen Ping'an laughed. "When that day comes, maybe you'll be different. Maybe you'll have an even better temper."
Sun Jiashu was slightly surprised, then nodded. "That's entirely possible."
A man who owned an entire street outside Old Dragon City, and a youth who was said to have missed out on the entire city, chatting about these trivial, rustic matters—and both felt it was perfectly natural, without any awkwardness.
The carriage rode smoothly. Though the incense burner emitted a constant stream of purple smoke, the inside of the carriage didn't become hazy; instead, it carried a fresh, grassy scent like a spring breeze.
Chen Ping'an said, "You run such a huge business, and you came all the way to pick me up. How much money did you lose? You could have sent someone else."
Sun Jiashu shook his head. "Earning money is one thing—haggling over every copper coin, even needing to settle accounts clearly on every single one. But how to spend money once you have it depends on each person's habits. Take me, for example. I work hard to make money all year round. What for? It's so that when it comes to making friends, I don't have to be stingy and worry about money."
Chen Ping'an realized something. "That makes a lot of sense!"
He almost wanted to take out the remaining small bamboo slips from his dimensional item and engrave Sun Jiashu's reasoning on them. When he himself had money someday, and people called him a good-for-nothing softy, he could use Sun Jiashu's words to refute them.
The conversation was pleasant all the way. Sun Jiashu recounted many interesting and embarrassing stories from his travels. Chen Ping'an had always been a good listener, and from their talk, Sun Jiashu's previously blurred impression gradually became clearer. He was a very "calm and even-tempered"... rich man!
"My being so rich isn't such a big deal, but I don't need to put on airs or deliberately lower myself. When I'm with friends I recognize, I treat them as equals, inside and out."
Chen Ping'an felt that this was exactly how a truly wealthy person should be.
The carriage arrived at a rural area. The road beneath the horses' hooves was a muddy path, so the ride was a bit bumpy. Seeing Chen Ping'an's curious look, Sun Jiashu lifted the carriage curtain with a smile. Outside the window was a vast expanse of lush green reeds. As the carriage moved forward, there were also golden rapeseed flowers, a delightful sight. By all rights, the rapeseed flower season should have passed long ago, but Chen Ping'an simply assumed that Old Dragon City's climate and soil were different from his hometown.
Sun Jiashu explained, "This is the ancestral land where my Sun clan's ancestors started their rise. Later generations have always tried to maintain its original appearance, for fear of damaging the feng shui and ancestral blessings, and also to commemorate our forebears. When the Sun family entertains distinguished guests—mountain immortals, emperors, and nobles—we do so at the Sun mansion in the inner city, a place of great splendor, no less than the Fu family's Old Dragon Mansion. But when we welcome true friends, we prefer to bring them here. About another ten miles ahead is the Sun family ancestral home. It's not large—a three-courtyard compound facing the water, directly across from a river where you can fish. I hope you'll like it."
Chen Ping'an beamed. "Like it? Of course I like it."
Sun Jiashu chuckled. "How about we walk the rest of the way?"
Chen Ping'an had no objection, so the two got out and walked toward the Sun ancestral home. Sun Jiashu gave a brief overview of the ancestral land. With a casual remark—"Within a hundred miles in all directions, it's all ours. There are six villages, about two thousand households. They raise silkworms and grow tea. The Sun family buys all their produce at slightly above market prices. The villagers have a decent income and live and work in peace here"—Chen Ping'an truly grasped the vastness of Old Dragon City and the extravagance of the Sun family.
When they could already see the outline of the Sun ancestral home, Chen Ping'an asked, "Are there cross-continent ferries from Old Dragon City to Inverted Mountain?"
Sun Jiashu nodded. "Yes. Old Dragon City is actually the largest commercial hub in Vase Bottle Continent. Wherever there's money to be made, people go. But getting to Sword Qi Great Wall via Inverted Mountain isn't something just anyone can do. Even the five great clans of Old Dragon City, including the Fu family and our Sun family, have to tread carefully in this business, covering all aspects."
Speaking of this, Sun Jiashu sighed with some emotion. "Over the past few thousand years, leaving aside the city lord Fu family, of the five great clans of Old Dragon City, besides our Sun clan, all have been replaced several times. Most of the failures happened near Inverted Mountain. The Sun clan itself has come close to decline several times, all related to Sword Qi Great Wall. Now, Old Dragon City has only six ferries that can travel to Inverted Mountain. The Fu family owns two of them. All six ferries are massive, capable of carrying at least two thousand people each. The Fu family's ferries include a Treasure-Swallowing Whale and a floating mountain built by a Mohist Grandmaster, known as 'Little Inverted Mountain.' With pavilions, towers, and jade palaces, the scenery is beautiful. It's the preferred ferry for mountain immortals, almost every time carrying many Golden Core and Nascent Soul realm cultivators. Our Sun family's ferry is a Mountain-Sea Turtle, captured and tamed by our ancestors. Its shell is as large as a mountain peak and can accommodate 2,400 guests, plus much more cargo. The real profit from a trip to Inverted Mountain doesn't come from the paltry passenger fares, but from various goods and specialties from Vase Bottle Continent and Reed Continent. If you can deliver them to Inverted Mountain, it's a hundredfold profit. But the journey is long and fraught with dangers. Ferries have been lost with heavy casualties, and some have lost everything. So choosing the right ferry based on the year, season, and divination signs has become a major field of study for Qi refiners."
Finally, Sun Jiashu added with a hint of self-deprecation, "I forgot to mention that the Fu family and the five great clans of Old Dragon City are all disciples of the Merchant School among the Hundred Schools of Thought. The ancestors worshipped by the main branch of each family are different from the Confucian saints in the temples. But even now, the Merchant School is still considered a lowly discipline. I heard that in the earliest days, a Confucian academy saint who was eventually enshrined in the temple and ranked quite high once said, 'Dog meat cannot be served at a feast,' which was actually a dig at our Merchant School. Comments like that are still polite. There are worse ones: 'Merchants are a base class,' 'last seat among the Hundred Schools,' 'reeking of copper,' 'merchants must have no benevolence or righteousness,' 'the decline of morals is largely the merchants' doing.' So across the nine continents of Haoran Heaven, there are many merchants, but they are never promoted as mainstream by any dynasty."
Chen Ping'an had no choice but to listen quietly when it came to such inside information about the doctrines of the Hundred Schools. He dared not make any rash judgments.
They arrived at the modest Sun ancestral home. There were no beautiful maids or pretty servant girls, only a dozen or so elderly men and women tending the compound. Sun Jiashu invited Chen Ping'an to a meal. It was neither a feast of dragon liver and phoenix marrow nor a simple meal of coarse tea and plain rice, but seasonal vegetables, fish, shrimp, chicken, and duck from the vicinity, all very appetizing. The one hearty dish was a soup made from several kinds of seafood. Chen Ping'an, accustomed to river fish, wasn't keen on it, so Sun Jiashu didn't urge him to eat more. He could just pick whatever he liked.
After the meal, they strolled along the riverbank outside the compound. Chen Ping'an asked, "Mr. Sun, do you know a place in Old Dragon City called the Dust Medicine Shop?"
Sun Jiashu thought for a moment. "I've never heard of it, but I can find it for you quickly."
Chen Ping'an thanked him.
Sun Jiashu waved his hand with a smile, indicating that Chen Ping'an needn't be so polite. He bent down, picked up a flat pebble, and threw it sideways, skipping it across the river toward the opposite bank.
On the other side were rapeseed flower fields, stretching out as far as the eye could see, all golden.
Chen Ping'an had already placed his bundle in his room and reattached the Sword-Nurturing Gourd to his waist, his sword case still on his back. He took a sip of wine from the "Jiang Hu" gourd. The river flowed gently, like a peaceful, serene old man.
Sun Jiashu stopped walking and said, "I've roughly calculated. Of the ferries heading to Inverted Mountain, three are still available in the near future. The other three haven't returned yet. One is our Sun family's Mountain-Sea Turtle, another is the Fu family's Treasure-Swallowing Whale, and the third is the Fan family's Osmanthus Island. If you're looking for safety, I recommend taking the Treasure-Swallowing Whale. Over the past ten years, the cross-continent route to Inverted Mountain has had bad weather. The Mountain-Sea Turtle isn't as good as the Treasure-Swallowing Whale, and not even as good as the Osmanthus Island, which is built on an island. After all, no matter how docile the Mountain-Sea Turtle is, it's still a living creature. The crash of the Whale Boat of the Da Jiao Mountain in central Vase Bottle Continent is an example. The Treasure-Swallowing Whale, on the other hand, can travel far in deep seas and is the most stable. The Fu family has been plying that route for years and knows it well—how to avoid the great water demons is second nature to them. If you want to save money and be comfortable, then our Mountain-Sea Turtle is the choice. You'll be well taken care of on board. I won't say it's a life of luxury, but you'll have no worries about food or clothing, and you won't need to fret about anything..."
After hesitating for a long time, Chen Ping'an blurted out, "Either the Mountain-Sea Turtle or the Osmanthus Island. I'm definitely not taking the Treasure-Swallowing Whale."
Sun Jiashu was surprised. "Why?"
Chen Ping'an looked a bit embarrassed. "Back in my hometown, the Bead Grotto-Heaven, I almost killed the Old Dragon City young city lord Fu Nanhua. How would I dare take his family's ferry?"
Sun Jiashu couldn't help but reach out and pat Chen Ping'an on the shoulder heavily. "Chen Ping'an! I've seen many heroes and legends, but someone as bold as you—there aren't many!"
Chen Ping'an sighed, because from Sun Jiashu's tone, he knew that Fu Nanhua was really not to be trifled with.
Sun Jiashu held back for a long time, but couldn't help laughing out loud. "The young city lord of Old Dragon City—well, there's more than one. There are also several sons of the Fu family's side branches who might inherit the ancestral dragon robe. But everyone knows that Fu Nanhua is the most favored by city lord Fu Qi. One of the Fu family's ancestors, who holds a half-immortal weapon, is Fu Nanhua's teacher and has been in seclusion for the past few years, rumored to be breaking through to the Upper Five Realms. So Fu Nanhua is the most likely to become the next city lord. Chen Ping'an, you really are something! If this gets out, I guarantee you'll become famous across half the continent within a month."
Chen Ping'an said helplessly, "I'd rather not have that kind of fame."
Sun Jiashu laughed even more heartily. "Although I've dealt with Fu Nanhua quite a bit, I wouldn't even call us simple drinking buddies. Of course, Fu Nanhua can't compare to Liu Baqiao. Hearing this truth today, I just want to laugh—guess I'm not very kind. So, Chen Ping'an, take it easy when making friends with someone like me. Don't be too trusting at first. You need to observe more."
Then Chen Ping'an blurted out, "Actually, I'm not very familiar with Liu Baqiao. I've only met him twice in total."
Sun Jiashu felt a bit stifled. "Then what was Liu Baqiao talking about in his letter? He made it sound like you two had been through life and death a hundred times! He praised you to the skies, saying you were unique in the world, and threatened that if I didn't personally treat you with the utmost hospitality, he would break off our friendship and spread my nickname all over Vase Bottle Continent."
Chen Ping'an tentatively asked, "Your nickname is 'Grandson'?"
Sun Jiashu covered his forehead with his hand and said wryly, "How did you guess that?"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "I've only met him twice, but I know Liu Baqiao's temperament. He's the most unserious person."
Sun Jiashu sighed. "My relationship with Fu Nanhua will end up like 'white hair still new'—never truly close. But you and Liu Baqiao seem like old friends at first sight."
The carriage driver appeared in the distance. Sun Jiashu looked back and said to Chen Ping'an, "I have to go to the inner city Sun mansion immediately to meet a guest—it's a prior engagement. As for the Dust Medicine Shop, someone will inform you before nightfall at the latest. Also, since you have a deadly feud with Fu Nanhua, if you need to go out anytime soon, you must let someone tell me first, and I'll arrange the itinerary. That way, for the ferry journey, we can rule out the Fu family's Treasure-Swallowing Whale. You might as well take my family's Mountain-Sea Turtle to Inverted Mountain. It departs in exactly twenty days. In the meantime, you can stay at our ancestral home. If you need anything, as long as it's available in Old Dragon City, I can have it delivered. Don't feel embarrassed. Before you ask, you can keep telling yourself, 'That Grandson is filthy rich. As friends, we share joys and hardships. Let's enjoy the good times first; when we fight side by side later, we'll suffer together. That's not a loss.'"
"Alright, I won't stand on ceremony with you."
Chen Ping'an nodded and winked. "Liu Baqiao said that, didn't he?"
Sun Jiashu gave a thumbs-up. "No wonder Liu Baqiao is so shameless about wanting to be your friend. You understand him!"
Sun Jiashu took his leave and walked away with the old coachman, whose depth Chen Ping'an couldn't gauge, gradually fading into the distance as they took the carriage to the inner city.
So Chen Ping'an, now alone, began to practice his Six-Step Stance along the river.
The calm river, the endless rapeseed flower fields, the ordinary dirt road—if not for the absence of a stone arch bridge and a Ruan family sword shop, Chen Ping'an might have thought he was back in his hometown.
He practiced his boxing for more than ten miles down the road, until he came to a small village built along the river. There were roosters crowing and dogs barking, and wisps of cooking smoke rose from chimneys. Chen Ping'an stopped his practice and looked around. Beside him was a small wooden bridge spanning the river. At that moment, he felt inexplicably as if a lifetime had passed.
Just as he was about to turn back toward the Sun ancestral home, he spotted a group of simply dressed children emerging from the rapeseed fields on the opposite bank. Most were at the age for private school, with a few younger ones trailing behind, some with runny noses. Two older boys carried wooden and bamboo swords, roughly carved by their elders, barely shaped into the rough forms of swords. They seemed to be competing in swordsmanship, walking along the ridges and slashing at the rapeseed flowers, shouting boisterously with great vigor.
The poor rapeseed flowers on the ridge were being chopped to pieces by the two children. Soon, a younger child behind them suddenly burst into tears. At first, he'd been enjoying himself, but he realized that this patch of rapeseed was his family's. If his parents found out, wouldn't he get a thrashing when he got home? But he didn't dare stop the two older "swordsmen," so he could only wail heartrendingly. Fortunately, one of the swordsmen soon realized the situation was bad and pulled out a piece of frozen rice candy his family had baked, whispering a few words to the child. The tear-streaked little boy immediately broke into a grin and swaggered after the two swordsmen, watching wide-eyed as they swoosh swoosh swung their swords, looking incredibly impressive. He thought that when he got older and stronger, he'd ask his carpenter father for a sword and chop down all the rapeseed flowers. Wouldn't that be impressive? And that little girl Cuihua from next door wouldn't just want to play with the young scholar from the back of the village anymore. She'd be sticking to him every day.
Chen Ping'an found it hilarious.
This was exactly what his own childhood was like! Liu Xianyang used to love doing annoying things like that. Not only would he chop rapeseed flowers with his wooden sword, he also liked to knock down the ridges of different heights, throw stones at the ducks in the river, and get scolded by the women every day, chased and beaten. Later, when both he and Chen Ping'an became kiln workers, Liu Xianyang did it less often, finding it boring. He preferred to run into the mountains, catch snakes and hunt pheasants. But then Gu Can came along behind Chen Ping'an, and he carried on Liu Xianyang's legacy with a vengeance. However, unlike Liu Xianyang's open mischief, the much younger and runny-nosed Gu Can was far more cunning—he was almost never caught. He had both the perseverance that Chen Ping'an admired and a precocious cunning beyond his years.
Under the blazing sun, Gu Can would squat on his haunches for half a day just to catch an eel.
Every mealtime in Mud Vase Alley, Gu Can's mother's shouts would ring out.
Chen Ping'an crouched by the river, skipping stones into the water.
The children, a long line of heads bobbing like sugar-coated hawthorn sticks on a skewer, crossed the single-plank bridge and came over. When they saw Chen Ping'an, a stranger, they weren't afraid—just gave him a few more glances before heading toward the nearby village. But one child, carrying a bamboo sword, kept turning back, his eyes fixed on the sword case on Chen Ping'an's back. Unable to contain his curiosity, he turned and ran over to Chen Ping'an, asking in proper Vase Bottle Continental standard speech, "Are you a swordsman?"
Chen Ping'an stood up, dusted off his hands, and smiled back. "Are you one too?"
The child rolled his eyes, thinking the question was childish. "I'm still missing a peerless martial arts manual," he said grumpily.
Chen Ping'an suppressed a laugh and nodded. "Me too."
The child looked down at his bamboo sword, then up at the hilt of the sword in the wooden case behind the man's back. "Can I see your sword?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "No."
The older child curled his lip, glancing at the vermilion wine gourd at Chen Ping'an's waist. "You're so stingy. You don't seem like a real wandering swordsman at all. I'll bet your gourd is filled with water, not wine—just pretending."
Chen Ping'an asked, "Have you ever seen a real swordsman?"
The child nodded vigorously.
Behind him, a little girl with rosy cheeks said timidly, "The farthest we've ever been is a market town a few dozen miles away. We've never seen any swordsmen."
Soon another honest child chimed in, "Our teacher at the school told us some poems about swordsmen. At the market, they sell expensive comic books with pictures of wandering heroes. Among them, swordsmen are the best—they always beat all the villains."
The child who'd claimed to have seen a real swordsman turned around and glared, and the two behind him fell silent immediately.
The older child with the wooden sword, who looked straightforward and honest, asked Chen Ping'an, "How good is your swordsmanship?"
That question really stumped Chen Ping'an.
He had to say, "I've seen a very impressive swordsman in person—not the ones in your comic books."
The bamboo-sword child sneered skeptically.
But the honest child with the wooden sword believed him about seventy or eighty percent and pressed further, "Did you learn swordsmanship from those heroes? If you can show us a move or two, I'll believe you're a real swordsman. And if you can, how about taking me as your disciple? I want to learn swordsmanship from you—not the kind that chops rapeseed flowers. I mean, if you could cut down the village bridge with one stroke of your sword, I'd kowtow and become your disciple right now!"
Chen Ping'an couldn't help but laugh.
Learn swordsmanship from him?
Chen Ping'an had no idea that the hundreds of miles of rustic landscape surrounding the Sun ancestral home was a famous secluded paradise in Old Dragon City. Although the common folk who lived here for generations were simple villagers, there were also several high-ranking experts secretly stationed here, watching over the feng shui of the Sun family's ancestral home to prevent outsiders from damaging it. However, the divide between the mountain and the mundane world was vast, and there were some things that the immortals knew but the common folk didn't. Besides the two elders at the Sun ancestral home, there was also a woodcutter who lived in a thatched hut in the mountains, and an old man who had branched out here with a house full of children and grandchildren. They were all true great cultivators: three Golden Cores and one Nascent Soul. Among them were branch ancestors of the Sun family who didn't bother with worldly affairs, reclusive experts who had taken refuge here, and some who had been hired by the Sun family at great expense. Money could move even immortals, after all—especially when they were paid annual salaries in Grain Rain coins.
At that moment, the four great Qi refiners were gathered in front of the woodcutter's thatched hut. Because it was one of the formation's nodes, the woodcutter, who looked like a young man, waved his hand casually. Mountain winds and mist coalesced into a painting, and the four of them followed the movement of the sword-carrying youth who was practicing boxing along the river. They began to bet on his cultivation realm. One said that since he was a friend of Sun Jiashu, he must be a gifted sword cultivator, his fist intent merely a disguise—undoubtedly a young Cave Abode realm sword cultivator. Another countered that he might not have reached the Middle Five Realms. The other two argued over whether he was a Fourth Realm or Fifth Realm martial artist. One claimed that the youth had an extremely solid foundation, suggesting Fourth Realm rather than ordinary Fifth Realm martial arts. Besides his own excellent talent, he must have had help from experts since childhood, having been raised in a vat of medicinal bath—a top-tier young master from some wealthy clan, perhaps a millennium-old family with wealth rivaling a nation.
The four immortals each held their ground, arguing until their faces were red, but they were still enjoying themselves.
---
In a small medicine shop in the inner city, the slightly disreputable man was squatting on a stool at the entrance of the alley again. Today, he wasn't carrying sunflower seeds but a miscellaneous book that some woman in the shop had bought. It was filled with high-sounding stories, mostly about the deeds and teachings of Confucian and Daoist sages—principles that soared high above the earth. The man would never have read such things before, but after squatting at the alley entrance for so long without any woman willing to talk to him, he figured he might be lacking a bit of scholarly air. Holding a book and flipping through it might bring him some unexpected luck.
During the sweltering summer, women wore much lighter clothing. The man sat in the shade of a small tree, pretending to read, while his peripheral vision remained glued to the women's figures like sticky sweat. One particularly curvaceous mature woman caught his attention, stealing his soul away. He muttered to himself, "Wide hips beyond the shoulders, bliss like the immortals."
Unfortunately, even with a book in hand, posing as a learned man, no woman spared him a second glance.
Except for one woman, who came again. She had a waist like a bucket, a pockmarked face, and a face bigger than the man's backside. The man looked crestfallen and finally started reading his book in earnest. The young woman, who lived nearby, walked past the alley several times, her hips not so much swaying as wobbling. The man pretended to be blind. Finally, unable to bear the intense sun, she reluctantly gave her chosen "lover" one last longing look and went home satisfied.
The man flipped through the book quickly, stopping at one page. It recorded a great Daoist sage, honored with the suffix "Zi," who used a story about an "empty boat" to expound on the highest principles of the Dao. A man was rowing a small boat on a river when another boat came toward him. The man shouted three times to warn them, but they still collided. The man started cursing loudly, only to find that the other boat was empty, and he burst out laughing.
In the end, of course, there was a golden saying from the sage passed down to posterity: "Going alone and coming alone—this is called unique possession. One who possesses uniqueness is called supremely noble."
The sage also said, "Only the supreme person can move through the world as if wandering in emptiness, without needing to avoid others."
The man didn't think this was nonsense. He could even understand its true meaning. But understanding such grand, overarching principles did him no good at all.
Because he and that Daoist sage were not of the same path.
He had even secretly attended many classes at the school run by the teacher next door. He understood all the principles there too, even gaining insights into some of the more obscure and profound points, but they were completely useless for his own cultivation.
What he couldn't understand most was his senior brother, who cultivated in the same humble place. That fellow spent his days doing crude, rustic work like a village farmer, yet his realm kept rising. He'd gone to the Great Sui Imperial Palace, and now that guy was already a Tenth Realm martial artist. Their master, who loved to curse at him all year round, often said that senior brother had great comprehension.
He didn't resent his master or senior brother for it. He just couldn't figure it out, so he'd been living miserably all these years. He didn't even have the ambition to prove himself to his master, which made him even more frustrated.
That was until his master kicked him out of the small town in the north and sent him to Old Dragon City.
He had no complaints.
He was just worried about the old man staying alone in that small town. Li Er had left, so there was no one left for the old man to praise. And he himself had left, so there was no one left for the old man to curse. The old man, puffing on his pipe all day long—how boring must that be?
He, a pure martial artist who had long reached the peak of Eighth Realm, spent his days guarding a small medicine shop, cracking dirty jokes and flirting with long-legged women.
His master, who rarely said a word to him, had finally spoken a bit more, only to deliver a damning verdict: "Zheng Dafeng, don't ever hope to reach the Ninth Realm of martial arts in this lifetime."
The man closed his book, using it as a fan to fan himself vigorously.
Then his face darkened, and he deftly picked up his stool and scurried back into the alley to the medicine shop.
That woman who coveted his good looks had not given up. She had changed into a gaudy dress and was now parading up and down the street again.
Trembling with fear, he returned to the medicine shop and collapsed into the shopkeeper's chair. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. He lifted his butt and wiped the seat—oh! A beauty had secretly sat there. The seat was still warm. He couldn't waste that. He rubbed against it eagerly.
A young girl looked at him with a resentful expression, reluctantly pulled out a few copper coins, and slapped them into the palm of a woman. Then she shot a glare at the shopkeeper.
Understanding dawned on the man. He chuckled to himself. Those women were betting on whether he would be astute enough to detect the lingering warmth of the beauty's body. How mischievous.
Someone came to visit. It was a handsome young man, clearly from a wealthy family based on his clothes, but the women in the shop, being from the marketplace, couldn't tell just how wealthy. But men love to look at beautiful women, and women love to look at handsome men—what's wrong with that?
The shop's ladies perked up. The man immediately lost interest and said listlessly, "Fan boy, what is it this time?"
The young man, facing the disheveled man, seemed slightly restrained. Enduring his discomfort, he pinched a small stool and sat beside the man, speaking softly. "Mr. Zheng, my father sent me to ask when you can formally teach me boxing."
The man replied dismissively, "Fan boy, breaking from Third Realm to Fourth Realm can't be rushed."
The young man's face fell, but he didn't dare push Mr. Zheng.
The man thought about it. He had only taught the boy a little bit of the basics, not worth much. It wasn't worth the price of this inner-city medicine shop. A mere Fifth or Sixth Realm martial artist could have taught the same. Feeling a bit guilty, he lowered his voice and spoke seriously. "Pure martial artists are different from Qi refiners. The latter like to advance by leaps and bounds—gifted ones can break through realms in a day. But martial artists can't. No matter how good your talent, you have to keep your feet on the ground, climbing step by step. Sometimes, even when you could break through, you have to suppress yourself, to peel away the impurities in your body and soul bit by bit, fixing every flaw. What you're doing now—the medicinal paste your father had made for you and the hot spring bath he built—that's cultivation. It's the cultivation you need most right now, not a hasty attempt to break into the Qi Refinement Realm."
Finally, the man laughed. "Alright, it wasn't your father who sent you—it was you being impatient."
The young man, used to a life of luxury in Old Dragon City, looked dejected and ashamed.
Breaking from Third Realm to Fourth Realm in martial arts was just too hard.
That's why it was called "a clay Bodhisattva crossing the river"—success depended almost entirely on one's own talent. Even a Seventh Realm martial arts grandmaster couldn't guide the process. An Eighth Realm Far Traveling realm grandmaster might be able to teach a shortcut, but generally, finding an Eighth Realm Qi refiner was one thing, but how many Eighth Realm martial artists were there in the entire Vase Bottle Continent? Barely a handful! And almost all of them were highly respected and favored by the great dynasties. It was said that this was also related to the ethereal concept of a nation's martial fortune—how could it fall on Old Dragon City? Even if there were such experts, the Fu family and Sun family were wealthier than his clan, so it certainly wouldn't be the Fan family's turn.
The man patted his chest and promised, "Fan boy, wait a little longer. Once you've truly polished yourself to the bottleneck of Third Realm, I'll step in. I won't let your family's silver go to waste. Then it'll be hard for you not to break through."
The young man, full of worries when he came to the shop, left the alley in high spirits.
A Golden Core realm ancestor was secretly following, protecting him the whole way.
It was said that on the day the young man was born, an Osmanthus Island ferry had already been placed under his name. When he came of age, he would be able to access the astonishing wealth that had been accumulating every year.
Once the young man was gone, the women started chattering again, asking about his background. The man extended a hand, making a grabbing motion, scanning their chests with a sleazy smile. "According to the usual rules of the shop, whichever of you is willing to pay the price, I'll tell her the young man's name, where he lives, and whether he prefers curvaceous women or petite and delicate ones..."
None of the women took the bait.
The man sighed regretfully. "You can't catch a lover without being willing to sacrifice the bait, you know. I really feel for you."
The women scattered, whispering among themselves in twos and threes, talking about the young man.
The man relaxed into his chair, muttering to himself, "My luck with women, Zheng Dafeng, is about the same as that kid Chen's early fortunes. Birds of a feather, birds of a feather..."
This shopkeeper, named Zheng Dafeng, was from the Bead Grotto-Heaven. He used to be a gatekeeper, collecting a bag of gold essence copper coins from visitors.
Not long ago, his master had sent him a letter, telling him to prepare to help Chen Ping'an disperse the four "Eight Liang True Qi Talismans."
But at the end of the secret letter, it also said that if Chen Ping'an could break through on his own, then he, Zheng Dafeng, should ensure the young man had smooth sailing in Old Dragon City.
Turning to look at the alley outside the shop, the man murmured, "A martial arts prodigy like young Fan in the eyes of the world—he could at most handle a few 'Half a Jin True Qi Talismans,' right? Any more, and his body couldn't take it. That stubborn kid surnamed Chen—how long has it been since I last saw him? And he's already this ferocious? Even if you count from the time he started learning that breathing technique, how many years has it been?"
He said with self-deprecation, "Master, you didn't wrong me. My senior brother really does have better comprehension. I wasn't very optimistic about Chen Ping'an back then."
Suddenly, a young girl stormed in, her face burning with anger. "Shopkeeper Zheng! Give me back my book!"
Zheng Dafeng coughed, pulled the book out of his bosom, and placed it on the counter.
The girl's face turned crimson. "And the other thing!"
Zheng Dafeng reluctantly reached into his bosom again and pulled out a piece of women's underwear, crumpled in his hand. He gently placed it next to the book and explained guiltily, "You left your bundle so conspicuously, with a corner of the book sticking out. I got curious. I took the book, and then I noticed the underwear was a bit dirty. Out of kindness, I thought I'd wash it for you..."
The blushing girl snatched up the underwear and stuffed it away, then grabbed the book and smacked it down on the man's face, fuming. "You pervert! You lecher!"
The man, holding the book, said with a straight face, "You misunderstand me. I'm not a gentleman. But since you're so pretty, I can forgive you for this insult. But don't betray my goodwill in offering to wash your dirty underwear!"
The medicine shop erupted in laughter, mixed with scolding and laughter from the older women and muttered complaints from the younger ones.
Zheng Dafeng cradled the back of his head with both hands, squinting and smiling.
---
Outside the inner city, in the secluded paradise protected by the Sun family near the wooden bridge by the village.
The four mountain immortals had already dispelled their mountain-water formation, since watching an out-of-town youth bantering with a group of countryside children wasn't very exciting.
As for whether the sword-carrying youth was a well-disguised sword cultivator or a Body Refining Realm pure martial artist, they still hadn't come to a consensus. But the four were experienced great cultivators. Old Dragon City was the most mixed place in Vase Bottle Continent. Many talented individuals from the three eastern continents passed through here, and most were willing to become guests of the Fu family and the five great clans, establishing some modest ties of goodwill. So the four Qi refiners, being high-level themselves, weren't particularly astounded by the youth.
Still, they all agreed that this guest brought to the ancestral home by Sun Jiashu himself, whether Qi refiner or pure martial artist, must be an unusually gifted young genius. Perhaps by the time he visited again, he might have become a middle-aged man who had formed a golden core—"He who forms a golden core is one of us." Or perhaps he would have broken into the Seventh Realm, able to use his martial body to resist the Heavenly Dao and embark on Far Traveling flight. At that point, he would be a distinguished guest worthy of their personal welcome, not merely a friend of Sun Jiashu.
By the river, the children, led by the two little swordsmen, were egging Chen Ping'an on to show off his swordsmanship, to prove he was a true wandering swordsman and not a swindler pretending to be a hero with a gourd of wine.
At first, Chen Ping'an was just reminiscing about his own childhood, joking and playing with the children.
Later, he realized that although the children were young, innocent, and had never seen the real Old Dragon City, let alone the jianghu and swordsmen, their feelings were genuine. For example, the bamboo-sword child, despite his taunts, still looked at Chen Ping'an with a trace of hope in his eyes—hoping that he was the kind of jianghu expert in the comic books who could defeat villains with his sword. The wooden-sword child was desperately eager to become a disciple of a master. He had even planned how to kowtow and burn incense, just waiting for the "adult" with the sword on his back to draw. The rest of the children also stared wide-eyed, waiting for Chen Ping'an to show off his skills so they could brag to their parents at dinner.
Chen Ping'an scratched his head. "How about I show you a little something?"
All the children nodded like little chicks pecking rice. The wooden-sword boy, not forgetting to use a little provocation, grumbled, "So indecisive! Can't you be more straightforward? I bet you're just a fraud, afraid of being exposed!"
Chen Ping'an burst out laughing. He was about to reach for the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, but then thought better of it and withdrew his hand. No drinking.
He turned to look across the river. The river was about four zhang wide.
Chen Ping'an turned back to face the riverbank. "Watch closely, you all."
The children stared intently, wondering what he was going to do.
Chen Ping'an jumped up and down on the spot a couple of times, shaking his legs.
Breaking from Third Realm to Fourth Realm was said to be like a clay Bodhisattva crossing a river.
At that moment, Chen Ping'an had completely forgotten about that.
He slowly raised his arm and reminded them again, "Got it?"
The children nodded in unison.
Chen Ping'an reached over his shoulder and grasped the locust wood sword in its case.
In an instant, he drew the sword and threw it toward the opposite bank, using a subtle technique of martial strength. The locust wood sword spun in the air before straightening with its tip pointing at the far bank, flying straight—but not fast.
"Here we go!"
Chen Ping'an laughed, his toes pushing off the ground, and his figure shot forward, landing one foot after the other on the wooden sword.
At first, he wobbled a bit, but after stabilizing, the youth seemed to be riding a flying sword, riding the wind and crossing the river.
Wow!
A real immortal swordsman, not a fraud!
The children stood dumbfounded, their faces filled with envy and admiration.
Chen Ping'an, having crossed the river on his sword, stepped sideways, landing on a small ridge on the opposite bank before the locust wood sword fell. Then he caught the descending sword.
Standing amidst the golden rapeseed flowers, an invisible stream of true energy shattered and dissipated around his hands and feet.
Chen Ping'an was stunned. His surprise was no less than the children's. Then he turned to the children, raised his thumb, and pointed at himself, grinning. "My name is Chen Ping'an, and I am a swordsman!"
Chen Ping'an threw the locust wood sword again, this time toward the Sun ancestral home. With all his strength behind the throw, the wooden sword shot forward fast. Chen Ping'an jumped up to chase it. This time, riding the sword and wind, he was already much more adept.
Finally, he had a bit of the air of a young sword immortal.
One person, one sword, crossing the river again.
Chen Ping'an stood on the sword, arms crossed, eyes closed, head held high, silently sensing some mysterious flow between heaven and earth.
A gentle breeze blew in his face. Light and carefree, Chen Ping'an had long since crossed the river like a clay Bodhisattva, and now he was in the Fourth Realm.