Chapter 255: The Preacher Preaches
(Nascent Soul realm is the tenth realm of Qi refiners, Golden Core is the ninth realm. There was a previous error in writing, hereby clarified.)
That evening, Sun Jiashu was originally supposed to host a banquet for a certain important figure from the southeastern continent, but the young clan head changed his mind on a whim, instructing the Sun Estate in the inner city to cancel this welcome feast. Although it was highly inappropriate, to the point where the steward in charge raised an unprecedented objection, Sun Jiashu offered no explanation. In his study, he had already severed the connection between the old residence and the Sun Estate, then went to the small ancestral hall in the back.
That steward was somewhat at a loss. The Sun clan's Nascent Soul old ancestor did not wish for the Sun Estate to be put in a difficult position. This elder, who had not shown himself at the Sun Estate for a hundred years, personally went to give instructions to that steward, which finally gave the entire Sun Estate a sense of reassurance.
Afterwards, Sun Jiashu bathed and changed clothes, then stood alone in the ancestral hall. After offering incense, he remained silent, as if facing a wall in self-reflection.
Besides the ancestral tablets, the walls were also hung with portraits of successive deceased Sun clan patriarchs from past generations. Most were dressed in similarly unremarkable attire as Sun Jiashu was now. This generation's position as Sun clan head was a skip-generation inheritance from grandfather to grandson. After Sun Jiashu's grandfather stepped down as clan head, he went to travel the Central Continent. Back then, Sun Jiashu inherited such a great family fortune at the age of twenty. These years, Sun Jiashu could truly be said to have tasted both sweetness and bitterness in full measure.
Sun Jiashu gazed at those portraits. Some people had turned the tide in times of family crisis. Some had opened up new trade routes. Some had befriended and won over Fifth Realm cultivators as close friends. Some had lived their entire lives in mediocrity, dragging the Sun family's reputation down in Old Dragon City. Some had made wrong decisions, causing the Sun family to continuously cede territory in the outer city. Their ancestral property was gradually eroded and divided. Some had strayed from the right path, devoting themselves entirely to cultivation, allowing family power to fall into the hands of relatives by marriage...
Sun Jiashu very much wanted to know—when he himself was eventually hung on that wall, how would future generations view him? As the revitalizing ancestor who rose up with vigor? As the chief culprit who buried the seeds of the family's ruin? Or as a fool who missed a golden opportunity that appeared once in a thousand years?
The night grew deep. That Nascent Soul old ancestor slowly walked into the ancestral hall. After a long silence, he finally spoke to offer comfort: "Third time's the charm. Your willingness to trust that young man and bet for the fourth time is already extraordinarily difficult. Losing on the fifth attempt is no reason for such regret. That Golden Core guest elder—who has hopes of reaching Nascent Soul—was actually willing to accompany you in betting those four times. He was already inclined to stay at the Sun ancestral residence rather than be won over by Fu Donghai."
Sun Jiashu did not turn around. He still raised his head, staring fixedly at one of the portraits, and nodded: "I've already figured that out. There's not much of a knot in my heart over it. In the matter of placing bets, things haven't gotten better, nor have they gotten worse. I can accept the outcome. To take a step back, our Sun family isn't at the point where losing a future Nascent Soul cultivator would make us so desperate."
The Sun clan old ancestor seemed to want to say something but hesitated. Matters concerning Sun Jiashu's fundamental path of the Dao—even someone like him could not easily inquire. It was like the three guest elders of the Sun ancestral residence. No matter how good their personal relationship with Sun Jiashu, no matter how curious they were about that young man's realm and cultivation, they would never take the initiative to ask. They merely speculated about it as if it were an amusing diversion.
Sun Jiashu spread open one palm: "In my interactions with Chen Ping'an, from beginning to end, it was all just doing business. It's not that I don't consider Liu Baqiao a friend, but this Chen Ping'an—he's too strange. I couldn't help wanting to gamble big on him. There was no other way. I, Sun Jiashu, am a merchant. I am the patriarch of the Sun family. As it turns out, knowing too much is not a good thing either."
Sun Jiashu turned his head, raising that palm: "It was only after Chen Ping'an repelled the Morning Glow Golden Dragon for the second time, and the Fu family remained motionless, that all my schemes came to nothing and I suffered the backlash instead. Only then did I realize I had been horribly mistaken in cutting corners this time. So mistaken that I watched helplessly as I lost... an Old Dragon City."
Even an Nascent Soul old ancestor, hailed as an Earth Immortal in the world, could see nothing unusual about that young man's palm.
But the old man was absolutely certain—what Sun Jiashu saw was the ultimate truth.
Sun Jiashu's face was full of grief: "If it were just losing a friend who was never really a friend in Chen Ping'an, and losing an Old Dragon City, I, Sun Jiashu, could swallow my teeth and blood and endure it! Money runs away, I can earn it back. When it comes to the ability to make money, I, Sun Jiashu, am second to none!"
The old man could only remain silent, waiting for what came next.
Sun Jiashu withdrew his palm, clenched his fist, and said with a trembling voice: "But after this upheaval, I discovered something about my own way of acquiring wealth. I had always firmly believed it was upright and honorable—undoubtedly the true path of the merchant. It was most fitting for the ancestral motto of 'Brightness and Righteousness, Long and Enduring.' Yet it was proven by Chen Ping'an—whom I had known for less than a month—to be a deviant bypath. The merchant ancestors long ago left a testament: ill-gotten wealth is like flowing water, coming and going swiftly. It rises vigorously and falls just as swiftly. Therefore, it must never be pursued."
Sun Jiashu turned his head away, not letting the old ancestor see his expression.
He lowered his head slightly, as if also unwilling to let those ancestral patriarchs see his face.
The Nascent Soul old man slowly walked to Sun Jiashu's side: "Since things have come to this, are you going to become disheartened and do nothing?"
Sun Jiashu placed his hands near his mouth and gently breathed warmth onto them: "The Fu family's inexplicable lack of action means that only I, Sun Jiashu, am left in an awkward position. The crux of the problem is that I'm still not sure what kind of person Chen Ping'an considers me to be, nor what kind of person he truly is."
The old man frowned: "It's hard to say how Chen Ping'an feels about you. But haven't you thoroughly grasped his temperament?"
Sun Jiashu said helplessly: "I thought I had him figured out before. So even if he later learned the truth, I believed Chen Ping'an wouldn't take away even a fraction of what the Sun family should give him. At worst, we would become strangers, never interacting again for the rest of our lives. But now? It's hard to say. I'm not sure whether Chen Ping'an treats others and himself with complete consistency."
The old man patted Sun Jiashu on the shoulder: "Jiashu, you are very clever and talented. There's absolutely no problem with you being the Sun clan head. Even now, having stirred up such a mess, I still believe this. So today, I won't speak to you as an old ancestor, nor will I give orders to a Sun clan head. I'll just say one more thing to you as an elder to a junior. Set aside all your calculations, the honor and disgrace of the family, and the grand trends of Ripple Bottle Continent. You are still Sun Jiashu, the best friend of Liu Baqiao. And Chen Ping'an is a friend that Liu Baqiao introduced to you. Why not try getting along with him using the simple way of friendship? For now, don't worry about the family at all."
Sun Jiashu turned his head, confused: "Will that work?"
The old man smiled: "There's no harm in giving it a try. After all, things can't get any worse. And some things—you can't escape just by trying to hide. A person living in this world isn't afraid of encountering a hurdle. Just work hard and walk over it. Whether you can cross it or not is another matter, but at least you will have tried. As you said, the Sun family can still hold up."
Sun Jiashu was still a little hesitant and doubtful: "Then I'll give it a try?"
The old man looked toward the sky outside the ancestral hall: "Go on. Don't forget, today is the day the Mountain Sea Turtle sets sail."
Sun Jiashu took a deep breath, turned around, and left the ancestral hall. Though he had made up his mind, the young man's steps were not light.
"This time, Jiashu really lost badly. He lost so badly that he became afraid. Three losses in a row: losing the Guyu coins, missing out on a hundred-year guest elder who could have reached Nascent Soul. Losing to the unmoving mountain that is the Fu family. And finally losing his Dao heart—his original mind beginning to waver—that's the most fatal. If I were in his position, I would probably be even worse off. My state of mind would have already shattered, with no chance to recover."
The old man no longer gazed at Sun Jiashu's retreating back. He turned to look at the portraits again and smiled: "Having this tribulation is actually a good thing. It's better than causing a great disaster in the future and being unable to mend the fold even after losing the sheep. Being too smooth-sailing, always complacent about one's cleverness—that's not a long-term path in the end. What do you all think?"
The portraits on the wall rustled noisily, as if in agreement.
---
Within the Fu residence's inner city, Song Jixin was constantly accompanied by that Vice Academy Head of the Linlu Academy.
The dealings between Old Dragon City and Great Li had been finalized before Fu Nanhua even entered Li Pearl Cave Heaven. Song Jixin's presence here was merely a symbolic public appearance under his identity as Song Mu, the Great Li imperial prince. All of this was the strategic planning of Great Li's National Preceptor Cui Chan, and moreover, the decree of the Emperor himself. This time, Song Jixin traveled south from Dragon Fountain Commandery to Old Dragon City. The Emperor, who was recuperating in the Great Li capital, had made no demands of Song Jixin. This caused Song Jixin to develop some illusions while on the ferry: that the maidservant Zhigui was the true backbone of this journey.
Dragon Fountain Commandery, Old Dragon City.
Zhigui, Wang Zhu as Zhu.
Song Jixin knew that these clues he had found—the traces and the thousand-mile threads yet to be fully uncovered—had already woven into a vast net. They would eventually form a situation: going south and heading north. Added to that, the Gao family of Great Sui was willing to make a major concession and form an alliance with the Song family of Great Li. In the central part of Ripple Bottle Continent, there was Heaven Sovereign Xie Shi of North Juzhou, cutting off the Guanhu Academy's tight control over the northern regions. Although the Academy's first strike was swift and fierce—stifling the war-like stirrings of over a dozen nations in the central region, including the Clothes Color Kingdom and the Comb Water Kingdom—Song Jixin could vaguely make out a path of advance for the Great Li iron cavalry. Irresistible, driving southward, galloping to the shores of the Southern Sea...
Song Jixin remained silent about all this, observing it with his eyes, storing it in his belly.
How favorable the situation in Ripple Bottle Continent was for the Song family of Great Li did not necessarily mean it was favorable for him, Song Jixin. Not to mention that he had no connections with the court's heavy ministers and pillar-of-the-state contributors. Within the Eternal Spring Palace, there was also a full-blooded younger brother, and a Consort who was devotedly partial to her youngest son. When he had gone to Eternal Spring Palace the last time—nominally, after years of separation, a son acknowledging his ancestry should take the initiative to greet his mother—no matter how heartbroken that Consort pretended to be in Eternal Spring Palace, Song Jixin found deep down that he couldn't really empathize. It was like watching a stranger grieving bitterly while he felt not a shred of compassion. Song Jixin was like a wooden man without emotions or desires. Aside from squeezing out a few tears, he had no more words for that noblewoman who had been placed in cold palace. She asked a question, he gave an answer. It was less like a mother-son reunion and more like a forced, formulaic court interview.
With his younger brother Song He standing by, crying, that meeting was probably awkward for all three—mother and sons.
Song Jixin walked alone through the corridors and pathways of the Fu residence's gardens. He said he wanted to take a stroll by himself, so the Vice Academy Head of Linlu Academy did not follow. Along the way, Song Jixin encountered many handsome men and maidservants. No one knew his identity, but the pair of Old Dragon Cloud-Playing Pendant and Old Dragon Rain-Giving Pendant at his waist were enough to let him pass through the Fu residence unimpeded.
Today, Zhigui had run off somewhere again to play. The Sword Immortal Xu Ruo was also nowhere to be found. This man—said to have a great reputation even in the Central Continent as a Mohist heroic knight—Song Jixin had always wanted to befriend and curry favor with. But he always felt that Xu Ruo, who seemed amiable to everyone, was actually the hardest person to talk to. It was difficult for both sides to really open their hearts. Perhaps one day, when he himself reached that position, things would be better? Song Jixin held back, so as not to have the opposite effect.
Walking along, Song Jixin admired the meticulously crafted landscape gardens and pavilions of the Fu residence. After seeing too much, he began to find them boring. Back in the town, when he roamed through the streets and alleys—whether his maidservant Zhigui was by his side or not—he never found the scenery so uninteresting. Song Jixin thought of Zhigui, and the gloom in his heart grew thicker and thicker.
He was very afraid that one day, she would no longer be his maidservant. That when he turned his head, her slender figure would no longer be there.
Just like now—Song Jixin turned around. The empty corridor held nothing but an oblivious parrot in a cage, speaking human language in a rough, obscure Old Dragon City dialect. Song Jixin walked to the birdcage and rapped heavily on the bamboo-woven cage: "Shut up!"
The parrot mimicked quickly and accurately, replying to Song Jixin in the refined speech of Ripple Bottle Continent: "Shut up!"
Song Jixin raised an eyebrow and said again: "Song Mu is the boss!"
That colorful parrot silently turned around, presenting its backside to Song Jixin, and then came a: "You da boss!"
Song Jixin was not angered but laughed instead. His mood improved, and he walked away with a smile.
---
The Fu residence had a Dragon-Scaling Terrace, a forbidden area in Old Dragon City. It was not within the Fu residence's inner city but on a great cliff at the easternmost edge of Old Dragon City, beside the sea. The Dragon-Scaling Terrace was dozens of zhang high—the tallest structure in Old Dragon City—but it was completely empty. A Golden Core Qi refiner had always lived there in a thatched hut, cultivating, to prevent outsiders from trespassing.
Today, Fu Qi personally led a guest up the terrace to view the scenery. Only his legitimate son Fu Nanhua accompanied them. No one else.
And the strangest thing was that Fu Qi stopped at the foot of the Dragon-Scaling Terrace, letting only that guest ascend the high platform alone.
The Golden Core Qi refiner greeted Fu Qi respectfully, gave Fu Nanhua an extra glance, then returned to his thatched hut to continue sensing the ocean tides, using them to temper his soul.
Fu Qi said softly: "Nanhua, earlier, when you chose not to make a move against Chen Ping'an, was it because you felt that someone as clever as Sun Jiashu would only make an even cleverer move than you?"
Fu Nanhua answered honestly: "Besides that, I kept asking myself: if I were acting as the City Lord of Old Dragon City, how should I handle this matter? Would it be misusing public office for private gain, or..."
Fu Nanhua looked embarrassed and did not continue.
Fu Qi said approvingly: "From this, it seems that you truly took to heart what I told you that day. A descendant of the Fu family cannot wait until the day they become City Lord to start acting with that identity. If they lack even this field of vision and perspective, then even if they are the strongest in the family, only knowing how to fight and kill for personal desires, acting with unchecked violence—when they truly encounter a real Upper Fifth Realm Immortal, never mind the Fu family, what is an entire Old Dragon City worth?"
Fu Nanhua steeled himself and gritted his teeth: "Father, but my cultivation realm is currently too low. How can I legitimately inherit the position of City Lord in the future?"
Fu Qi chuckled: "How? Smash it with money! The Fu family of Old Dragon City—setting aside everything else—has no shortage of real money. Do you think I went from Golden Core realm to the Tenth Realm of Nascent Soul just by working hard? The heavenly treasures and earthly rarities I consumed would be enough to buy the three-hundred-mile long street owned by the Sun family outside the city. After that, how did I gradually reach the peak of the Tenth Realm? Besides relatively diligent cultivation, it was mostly bought with money. What did you think?"
Fu Nanhua was dumbfounded.
It was that simple?
Fu Qi clasped his hands behind his back, looked up at the slender figure ascending step by step, and said with a slight smile: "Besides my faith in you, her opinion—even a casual remark—is still the most important. Calling it a final word wouldn't be an exaggeration either. There are some people and matters in the Fu family of Old Dragon City that you cannot access yet, but you will come to know more and more. The true scenery at the summit of Ripple Bottle Continent will also unfold before you, one by one."
Fu Nanhua's eyes grew fervent.
Fu Qi's smile turned dark: "And then one day, you will find blood and gore all around you."
That outsider climbing the steps was a young girl. After she walked onto the Dragon-Scaling Terrace, her face was covered in bloodstains. Tears of blood continuously flowed from her golden eyes.
She stood there in solitary loneliness, her shadow single and alone, looking all around.
The Nine Grand Continents, the Four Seas, the mountains above, the world below—all were graves, all were enemies!
---
On that day, Chen Ping'an kept watch and fished as usual, then timed his practice of standing in the Sword Furnace pose. When dawn broke, he opened his eyes again and looked eastward toward the sky above the sea. But this time, Chen Ping'an did not provoke the descent of that golden airflow. Instead, he grinned, stood up, and waved in that direction, as if greeting an acquaintance.
Chen Ping'an put away his fishing rod and creel and returned to the Sun family's ancestral residence. There, he saw Sun Jiashu waiting for him by the river.
He was waiting for Chen Ping'an, but Chen Ping'an had also been waiting for him, Sun Jiashu.
Back in the inner city alleyway, Zheng Dafeng had urged him to remove that disguise mask that obscured his features. Later, a Yin Spirit had interfered with Zheng Dafeng.
Seemingly unrelated to the Sun family, these fragments of words and phrases—once Chen Ping'an chewed them over a little—he could taste the hidden lethal intent within.
Disappointment? Of course there was.
Raging fury? Not really.
Liu Baqiao had introduced Sun Jiashu to him with good intentions, no doubt about that. So coming to the Sun ancestral residence was Chen Ping'an's own choice. In the final analysis, it was his instinct to seek advantage and avoid harm. But looking back, this choice might not have been the worst, but nor was it the best.
The merchant philosophy that the Fu family and Sun family believed in—what were its principles and tenets? Sun Jiashu had actually hinted at some of it during their casual conversations.
Chen Ping'an's impression of Sun Jiashu became blurred once again, and inwardly, he was filled with vigilance and scrutiny.
A person's pure and simple nature is not at all the same as being foolish or slow. To truly be a good person, one needs to know what a bad person is. A good person being able to live well is the greatest kindness to this world.
These simple truths, Chen Ping'an didn't need books to tell him. The chickens flying and dogs jumping in the market streets, the trivialities among neighbors, the scheming among kiln apprentices—weren't they all teaching these things?
Sun Jiashu watched the sword-carrying youth approaching. He took a deep breath, said nothing first, but simply made a deep bow in apology.
Chen Ping'an sidestepped, avoiding Sun Jiashu's seemingly groundless apology.
After straightening up, Sun Jiashu was unbothered by this. With a bitter smile, he said: "Chen Ping'an, I've already arranged for you to take the Fan family's Osmanthus Island ferry. The Sun family no longer has the face to invite you aboard the Mountain Sea Turtle."
Chen Ping'an asked: "Sun Jiashu, why is this?"
Sun Jiashu hesitated for a moment, then simply crouched down, facing the river. Picking up a few pebbles by his feet, he gently tossed them into the water: "I wanted to seek wealth at great risk, to grab a big windfall. I deliberately concealed the extent of the Fu family's control over Old Dragon City. I only let you wear that mask that was insufficient to hide the full truth. Then I let you walk out of that high building that the Fu family was watching closely. I was betting that the stubborn Fu Nanhua would swallow his pride, gather his men, and come to kill you. After that, even if I had to risk half of the Sun family, I would still protect you, Chen Ping'an. Afterwards, you would safely board the ferry and head to Inverted Mountain. You would feel that you owed me, Sun Jiashu, a huge favor. I believed that one day, the Sun family's return on investment would far exceed what we lost."
Chen Ping'an still stood there, holding his fishing rod and creel. He asked a critical question: "How could you be certain you could keep me alive?"
Sun Jiashu didn't turn his head. He pointed upward with his finger: "There are some people and matters at the highest places in the world that Fu Nanhua isn't qualified to know, but I, Sun Jiashu, as the Sun family patriarch, know them. Fu Qi, the City Lord of Old Dragon City, certainly knows them even better. As for this dispute among juniors, as long as I staked everything and put on a show of being willing to perish together with the Fu family, then after giving the Sun family a thorough beating, Fu Qi would take the initiative to pull back at a certain point. You, Chen Ping'an, would naturally only experience a fright, not die. And I, Sun Jiashu, would be able to seize the opportunity to become your friend in adversity."
It was only at this moment that Chen Ping'an was filled with rage. His expression darkened. He quietly circulated his qi, pressing that fury deep into his heart lake.
Sun Jiashu tossed another pebble: "In recent years, the Sun family's momentum has been strong. On the surface, we seemed to have a strength to contend with the Fu family. But I saw a little further. Aside from the Fu family, who are wholeheartedly throwing in their lot with the Great Li dynasty—among the five great surnames, the Fan family follows closely behind the Fu family, and the other three have also found their own dependents. Some have the Guanhu Academy, some have immortal mansions in North Juzhou, some have top-tier aristocratic clans in the southeastern continent. They all found backers and escape routes. Only the Sun family has been indecisive. Because I also had my eye on the Song family of Great Li, but I couldn't find a way in. In earlier years, I sent a Golden Core family elder to the Great Li capital. Not only could he not see the Great Li Emperor, he couldn't even get through the gates of the Prince Song Changjing's residence. A trader carrying a pig's head but unable to find the temple gate—that feeling is utterly despairing."
Chen Ping'an asked a second question: "It's normal that you don't consider me, Chen Ping'an, a friend. But what about Liu Baqiao?"
All the words Sun Jiashu had prepared in his mind—thousands upon thousands of them—could not answer this question.
Sun Jiashu's face was full of bitterness as he looked at the river water.
Directly striking the heart—that's what it was.
The Sun clan old ancestor, secretly observing this conversation from the shadows, was sweating for Sun Jiashu.
Sun Jiashu lowered his head slightly, propping his cheeks with his hands. Since he had no more strategies to deal with this, this extremely clever businessman simply let his heart speak, muttering to himself: "Of course I consider him a friend. But maybe after this time, I will only have gained one more enemy in Chen Ping'an and lost one friend in Liu Baqiao."
Chen Ping'an asked a third question: "The reason you're saying all this is because you don't dare to kill me? Afraid that one day, when I return to the Bright and Righteous World, I will trample the entire Sun ancestral residence flat with one step?"
Sun Jiashu shook his head: "I don't want to kill you."
He turned his head, forcing a smile: "Chen Ping'an, do you believe this or not?"
Chen Ping'an did not answer.
Sun Jiashu stood up, as if a ten-thousand-pound burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He no longer seemed so dispirited; he had regained some of the bearing of Sun Jiashu of Old Dragon City: "What should have been said, what shouldn't have been said—I've said it all. Whatever you, Chen Ping'an, do from now on, I won't regret it. I, Sun Jiashu, have that much responsibility."
Chen Ping'an sighed: "I'll take my luggage and head to the Dust Medicine Shop in the inner city. Afterwards, I'll take the Fan family's Osmanthus Island ferry to Inverted Mountain."
Sun Jiashu nodded: "Alright."
The two walked one behind the other, silently back to the Sun ancestral residence. Chen Ping'an shouldered his bundle, then relying on his memory, walked onto that yellow earth road.
Sun Jiashu ate breakfast alone—still pickled vegetables, rice porridge, and steamed buns. The Sun clan old ancestor sat across from him. Just as the old man was about to speak, Sun Jiashu said: "I will explain the whole story to Liu Baqiao as soon as possible."
The old man asked: "Are you afraid that Chen Ping'an will beat you to the punch and report you, making things even more difficult? Or is your conscience just bothering you, and you can't rest until you spit it out?"
Sun Jiashu stopped his chopsticks and thought carefully, then said honestly: "It seems like both."
The old man tentatively asked: "Why not go all the way? Rig something on the Peach Blossom Island ferry?"
Sun Jiashu, having unknotted his heart, was much more spirited. He smiled and shook his head: "You can't use one mistake to cover up another. I no longer dare to gamble on luck."
Hearing this reply, the old man seemed even more relieved than Sun Jiashu. He smiled: "Then this bitter loss wasn't suffered for nothing by the Sun family. In the face of the grand trends, taking the lead is naturally best. But never making major mistakes is also no easy feat. Since you already have a great enterprise, you can't always think about going all-in. That won't do."
Sun Jiashu smiled: "A family with an old member is like having a treasure!"
The old man stood up: "Eat slowly. Adjust your state of mind properly. Don't let your emotions fluctuate too much in the near future."
Sun Jiashu put down his chopsticks and stood to see the old man off. Only after the old man had left the room did he sit down again and continue eating breakfast.
Bitterness hard to bear.
As for whether Sun Jiashu, if he had handled things improperly, would have been forcibly stripped of his position as clan head by the Sun clan old ancestor—both the old and the young sitting opposite each other earlier had known this in their hearts. And neither side would have found it improper.
---
Leaving the Sun ancestral residence's territory, Chen Ping'an arrived at a bustling market area. After asking for directions, he hired an ordinary carriage to the inner city. This time, the expense was normal—he no longer had to travel those three hundred li alongside the flying beasts, dragons and their kin, and fine horse-drawn carriages.
But entering the inner city from the outer city itself cost a considerable sum.
After getting on the carriage, it was actually Chen Ping'an who guided the driver.
Because inside the carriage was that Yin Spirit—the one who had appeared outside the Dust Medicine Shop. He claimed his surname was Zhao, so Chen Ping'an respectfully called him Mr. Zhao.
Arriving outside the alley, Chen Ping'an paid the fare. Today, Zheng Dafeng was not under the locust tree. Instead, he sat behind the medicine shop counter, dazed. Seeing Chen Ping'an, he didn't seem surprised. He told Chen Ping'an that the shop was small, but the area behind it was quite large. Chen Ping'an pushed aside the curtain and found that the layout was very similar to the Yang family pharmacy. There was a large courtyard paved with bluestone slabs, along with the main hall and two side rooms. The side rooms were all empty. Chen Ping'an could choose any one. He picked a room on the left side. Inside, he put down his sword case and bundle, keeping only the Nourish Sword Gourd at his waist. Zheng Dafeng, imitating Old Man Yang, sat under the eaves of the main hall. He had procured an old tobacco pipe from some antique shop and was puffing away, sitting on a stool.
But in Chen Ping'an's view, when an old man smoked a pipe, it was profound like an ancient well.
When Zheng Dafeng smoked a pipe, it was just ridiculous.
Chen Ping'an sat at the door of his own room and mentioned that he planned to take the Osmanthus Island ferry. Zheng Dafeng nodded and said it would be easy—he would make sure the Fan family treated Chen Ping'an like their own ancestral patriarch.
Then the two, who didn't get along with each other, sat there wordless. One smoked a pipe, the other drank wine.
The heads poking out from behind the curtain found this terribly dull and soon dispersed.
Zheng Dafeng smoked his pipe in utter boredom. He really couldn't understand why the old man was so fond of this—it had no flavor at all. He occasionally glanced sideways at that somber youth. The moon waxes and wanes; profit and loss follow their own cycles. As the Li Pearl Cave Heaven shattered and fell, this kid's luck wasn't too bad now. Just considering Chen Ping'an's timing in entering Old Dragon City—if not for the successive arrivals of the Great Li ferry port and the Yunlin Jiang clan, Fu Qi might not have been so accommodating.
Chen Ping'an, on the other hand, was thinking about how to deal with that five-cash matter.
Zheng Dafeng suddenly spoke: "Just a casual question. If Mr. Qi had told you, Chen Ping'an, that you would never be able to break through to the Fourth Realm in your entire life, what would you have done?"
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment: "Then I probably would have accepted my fate."
Zheng Dafeng seemed a little surprised, then rolled his eyes, finding it even more boring.
So this guy could be his preacher? On this matter, wasn't Chen Ping'an exactly the same as him?
Zheng Dafeng wasn't willing to give up: "After accepting your fate, what then?"
This kind of thing didn't hurt or itch, so Chen Ping'an answered casually: "Then of course I would keep practicing boxing. What else could I do? At that time, I needed to practice boxing to keep myself alive. Besides, practicing boxing isn't just about breaking through realms. It strengthens the body and increases strength—that's always a good thing."
Zheng Dafeng squinted and asked with a smile: "But what if you inadvertently reached the bottleneck of the Third Realm and saw hope for the Fourth? What would you do then?"
Chen Ping'an turned to look at this man, almost blurting out the old sword saint of Comb Water Kingdom's pet phrase: "Are you a fool?" Practicing boxing is good. Breaking through realms is even better. Since you've already reached a bottleneck, of course you'll think about how to break through.
Zheng Dafeng clicked his tongue: "Wouldn't you think of Mr. Qi's final verdict—that you couldn't reach the Fourth Realm?"
Chen Ping'an's eyes widened. He felt that this Zheng Dafeng must have had his head slammed in a door. How could a peak Eighth Realm martial grandmaster be so inexplicable? Chen Ping'an took a sip of wine: "Mr. Qi's knowledge is certainly vast. But Mr. Qi's original intention must have been for my good. If breaking through a realm were a bad thing, I would hold back. If it were a good thing, but Mr. Qi had guessed wrong in the first place, wouldn't I just refuse to break through?"
Speaking of this, Chen Ping'an murmured in his heart: "If that were the case, then Mr. Qi would be disappointed."
Zheng Dafeng's expression grew more and more serious. He had already forgotten about his tobacco pipe: "How could Mr. Qi be wrong?!"
Chen Ping'an said seriously: "If I... were still able to stand before Mr. Qi and ask him if he could make mistakes, how do you think Mr. Qi would answer?"
Zheng Dafeng was struck as if by lightning. His face was full of pain. He threw down his pipe and scratched his head frantically.
Zheng Dafeng's eyes were bloodshot. Staring blankly at Chen Ping'an, he shouted: "Chen Ping'an! Did Mr. Qi have any message for you to pass on to me?! Speak, say it directly! If you do, I will gladly become your guardian! Ten years, a hundred years—I don't care!"
Chen Ping'an shook his head: "No."
Zheng Dafeng suddenly jumped up, like an ant on a hot pan, spinning wildly in the yard. His footsteps were chaotic—even worse than a Third Realm martial artist.
Chen Ping'an murmured: "He couldn't be going into qi deviation, could he?"
That Yin Spirit materialized beside him. He had already veiled the small world of this courtyard—no sound or movement would penetrate that curtain.
Zheng Dafeng crashed around everywhere: "Mr. Qi, I have heard your teachings many times. You must have hidden profound truths within them, meant for me to hear. But I didn't grasp them back then. Think, think carefully. Zheng Dafeng, don't panic, don't panic..."
In the small yard, strands of chaotic gales appeared on the ground. They condensed like real sword blades and knife edges. Fortunately, the Yin Spirit suppressed them carefully from the side, preventing them from shattering the bluestone slabs or smashing the pillars and doors.
Chen Ping'an silently drank his wine, carefully observing Zheng Dafeng and those strange phenomena.
Finally, Zheng Dafeng, his face covered in tears, stopped his steps but still looked up at Chen Ping'an: "Mr. Qi must have taught you some principles, Chen Ping'an! Quickly tell me—anything at all! Whether it's the sacred path of the Three Immortalities of a scholar, or the way of handling oneself in the world and cultivating the family—just tell me..."
Chen Ping'an, cradling the Nourish Sword Gourd, asked expressionlessly: "On what grounds?"
Zheng Dafeng almost howled: "You are my preacher! Chen Ping'an, you are my preacher!"
The Yin Spirit softly reminded: "Chen Ping'an, this is not good. If Zheng Dafeng continues like this, he could very well become a martial madman with his soul separated from his body. Even if he wakes up, he will truly have no hope of reaching the Summit Realm for his entire life. And I may not be able to suppress him. This entire medicine shop, along with this alley and the neighboring streets, will probably be smashed to pieces by Zheng Dafeng. Countless people will die or be injured."
In truth, Chen Ping'an's state of mind was far from as calm as his expression suggested. But what was all this crazy talk about a preacher? He had just barely broken into the Fourth Realm, and now he was supposed to guide an Eighth Realm peak grandmaster? Chen Ping'an looked at the increasing gales in the yard. Many had converged from rivulets into rivers, forming land-based cyclones seven or eight feet tall. Wherever they passed, the bluestone slabs shattered.
Chen Ping'an hurriedly controlled the flying sword Fifteen in his sword-nurturing gourd, taking out the small bamboo slips carved with his principles. He could only use them as a last resort, reciting the contents to Zheng Dafeng one by one. But Zheng Dafeng just shook his head in pain, saying it was wrong, all wrong. Zheng Dafeng's feet had already left the ground, floating like a kite with a broken string. Blood flowed from his seven orifices—horrible to behold.
Even when Chen Ping'an recalled as many beautiful poems and elegant passages that Li Xisheng had written on the walls of the bamboo building as possible and shouted them out, Zheng Dafeng still shook his head. This far-traveling realm martial artist could no longer utter another word. He could only stagger through the air, throwing punches, trying to maintain the last shred of lucidity in his mind.
Between the Eighth and Ninth Realms of the martial summit—compared to the Third and Fourth, or the Sixth and Seventh—the scenery was even more magnificent, but also even more perilous.
This was called the Heart-Crossing Pass.
As for the pass between the Ninth and Tenth, it was even more terrifying, known as the Gate-Ramming Pass. The difficulty of taking that step was unimaginable.
Zheng Dafeng knew all this, which was why he envied his perpetual layabout senior brother Li Er, and why he was jealous of Song Changjing, who had broken into the Tenth Realm after a single life-or-death battle!
When he and Li Er sparred in private, he had nearly been beaten to death more times than he could count on one hand!
Why could a man around forty like Song Changjing do it, but not him, Zheng Dafeng—who had climbed all the way to the Eighth Realm like a bamboo shoot?
Why did the old man still have to say that he would never see the Ninth Realm in this lifetime? Adding insult to injury on his already overburdened heart barrier?
Why, even after he had turned the page on that chapter "Essence of Sincerity," seen the Preacher's two punches repel the great heavenly opportunity, and comprehended the meaning of utter sincerity, was his bottleneck still only loosened, but he couldn't cross it no matter what?
The Yin Spirit unconsciously clenched his fist, staring intently at Zheng Dafeng, who was on the verge of mental collapse. This Yin Spirit seemed to be hesitating—should he strike out decisively or not?
But he still didn't dare act rashly. If he stopped Zheng Dafeng's rampage now, Zheng Dafeng's martial future would truly be ruined.
Suddenly, Zheng Dafeng's figure came to a halt. He floated in midair, covered in blood. His bloody face was indistinct. With grief greater than the death of his heart, he said: "Master, I can't do it. I really can't. I'm sorry..."
Looking at the blood-soaked Zheng Dafeng, Chen Ping'an, who had been at a loss, inexplicably thought of a little girl. Throughout the year, she wore a red cotton-padded jacket, bouncing and lively, innocent and carefree.
He remembered Li Huai once saying that the little girl would often ask questions that even her teacher couldn't answer. And Mr. Qi never thought this was wrong.
It was as if a divine insight struck Chen Ping'an. He murmured softly: "A disciple need not be inferior to his teacher."
A whisper as faint as a mosquito.
But to Zheng Dafeng's ears, it crashed like a great tide battering Old Dragon City.
Zheng Dafeng looked down in a daze at that old tobacco pipe.
He vaguely remembered that the old man, who had never been willing to say much to him, would glare coldly at him through the smoke. At times like that, Zheng Dafeng—proud and lofty as he was—couldn't even muster the courage to meet his gaze.
Before today, Zheng Dafeng had never thought there was anything wrong with this. The world didn't know the old man's origins and identity, but he, Zheng Dafeng, did. The world didn't know the old man's vast supernatural powers, but he knew them better than anyone. The world didn't know the old man's glorious deeds, but he, Zheng Dafeng, still knew them. So how could he, as a disciple, with only an Eighth Realm martial artist's cultivation, be qualified to look that old man in the eye?
Zheng Dafeng raised his head, took a deep breath, wiped the blood from his face, and said softly: "So that's how it is."
Zheng Dafeng did not utter grandiloquent words, nor did he laugh heartily. He simply stepped forward, one step at a time, into the sky above the courtyard, silently saying to himself: "Master, you are already at the highest place. It doesn't matter. Your disciple Zheng Dafeng will come to meet you, one step at a time."
On that day, someone stepped up into the heavens, directly breaking through that sea of clouds, treading high above the clouds. That person climbed high and looked toward an even higher place.
In Old Dragon City, a great wind arose, and clouds soared.