Chapter 260: A Bright Moon Rises Over the Sea
Just as Fan Er walked out of the small alley, that young woman in a green robe had already stepped into the Dust Pharmacy.
When she entered, the flirting and competing women and young maidens instantly paled in comparison. They exchanged glances, and being in the same room as this woman, a sense of inferiority born of shame rose unbidden within their hearts.
Compared to Fan Er's polite and courteous demeanor, this woman was not so approachable. She strode straight toward the bamboo curtain, heading for the rear courtyard.
From beginning to end, none of the women in the pharmacy dared to stop her.
Zheng Dafeng sat on the steps of the main hall, smoking a pipe.
The green-robed woman looked around, raised a hand, and beckoned. A small stool from under the eaves of the side room instantly appeared behind her. She sat down and began to drink.
Zheng Dafeng naturally recognized this person. The first person he had seen upon his southward journey into Old Dragon City was this unremarkable eldest daughter of the Fan family, Fan Junmao.
The five great surnames of Old Dragon City were Fu, Sun, Fang, Hou, and Ding.
Not to mention the Earth Immortal Fu Qi and the Fu family, who held four immortal swords. The Sun family was famously profound in heritage, with a Nascent Soul Earth Immortal guarding their ancestral home.
As for the Fang family, though they lacked a Nascent Soul to intimidate the masses, they had two seventh-realm martial grandmasters and an eighth-realm Golden Core sword cultivator. In the southern mountain dynasties of Vase Continent, especially in the martial underworld, the Fang family wielded immense power. Their silver vaults, armed escort agencies, pawnshops, and inns were scattered everywhere like stars in the sky. Compared to the Fu and Sun families, the Fang family scraped together small profits, operating on the principle of accumulating many small gains into a fortune.
As for the Hou family's top combat strength, that group of middle-five-realm retainers and guests held no advantage. However, a concubine-born son who had left home many years ago had become a Worthy of View-Lake Academy. Although that Worthy had never returned home to worship his ancestors after leaving, the Hou family had indeed benefited profoundly from this. Every year, they sent people to View-Lake Academy to pay New Year's respects.
Besides the intercontinental ferry heading to Upside-Down Mountain, the Hou family also owned the most routes from Old Dragon City to North Juju Continent. Most of these routes were not long, ranging from tens of thousands of miles to three hundred thousand miles. For example, the Dragon Path at the northern end, which ended in the Comb-Water Country, the Hou family dominated half of it. Though fragmented, all together, it could not be underestimated.
The Hou family had many connections with the immortal sects in the southern part of Juju Continent. Through painstaking efforts over the last two hundred years, they had already fostered several mountain sects there.
The Ding family had almost been removed from the five great surnames, replaced by a rising surname that had been eyeing them covetously for nearly a hundred years. In particular, the Ding family had once angered Chu Yang, the foremost Golden Core cultivator of Old Dragon City—the one who built a thatched hut for cultivation at Ascending Dragon Terrace—resulting in severe damage to their vitality and a plummeting reputation.
But at that critical juncture, a young man from the southeastern continent changed everything. He first entered Old Dragon City in a very destitute state, and in the end, he failed to stir even a ripple in the city. Before leaving Old Dragon City, he was still utterly down-and-out.
Yet when the Ding family was on the verge of complete decline, that young man arrived in the nick of time, bringing both men and money to turn the tide for the Ding family. In the end, he only took a single woman away with him.
It was only then that Old Dragon City learned that the young man was a direct disciple of the largest mountain-head sect in Tongye Continent in the southeast, holding an extremely high seniority.
After that, the Ding family latched onto this connection with Tongye Continent. Over the years, their development momentum surged, and there were faint signs that they might be able to contend with the Sun family.
Only the Fan family remained lukewarm, never attracting attention.
Within the family, there was neither a tenth-realm Nascent Soul ancestor, nor a truly impressive Golden Core cultivator, nor any exceptionally talented rising stars. They always followed closely in the footsteps of the Fu family, seeking shelter under a big tree. Relying on this relationship, they barely managed to hold onto their title as one of the five great surnames.
Thus, the Hou family, which had a grudge against the Fan family, dared to claim that the Fan family was nothing more than a watchdog for City Lord Fu Qi, year after year eating leftovers, neither full nor starved, with every generation of family heads lacking ambition, just muddling along waiting for death.
Zheng Dafeng stared through the tobacco smoke at the young woman in dark green robes not far away, leisurely drinking.
Regarding this person, the old man hadn't given detailed information about her background. He only said that upon arriving at Old Dragon City, he should first find her, just for a brief meeting, and then go to discuss business with Old Dragon City's lord, Fu Qi.
Zheng Dafeng was used to the old man's obscurity and evasion—smoking was like that, and doing things was even more so. So he didn't bother to delve into the identity of this woman named Fan Junmao. When he first observed her as an eighth-realm martial artist, she seemed to be nothing more than a novice Qi practitioner who hadn't yet entered the middle five realms. But now that he had broken through to the ninth realm, sizing her up again, Zheng Dafeng realized he had been wrong before. Presently, Fan Junmao was clearly a Golden Core Qi refiner.
The woman only drank and said nothing.
Zheng Dafeng accompanied her in silence. Anyway, she was pretty, so he was the one benefiting.
Suddenly, Zheng Dafeng let out a series of clicks of admiration. "Impressive, impressive. I used to think that in Old Dragon City, I'd never see strange people and odd things more exaggerated than in that little town. Today, I've truly broadened my horizons."
It turned out that while drinking, that "Fan Junmao" had broken through to the tenth realm, the Nascent Soul realm, instantly becoming an Earth Immortal in the eyes of the mundane world.
Although she had tried her best to suppress the traces of her realm breakthrough, Zheng Dafeng still caught a hint of it, marveling inwardly.
No doubt about it.
The old man was determined to get this person.
Perhaps she was even one of the key pieces in the old man's plan all along.
Fan Junmao finally spoke her first words: "From now on in Old Dragon City, you will obey my orders."
Zheng Dafeng frowned.
The green-robed woman stood up, sneering coldly. Then she made an extremely strange motion—raising her arm as if to throw something, her face full of grim amusement. She thrust her hands lightly toward Zheng Dafeng's heart and said slowly, "Swish. Dead."
Zheng Dafeng stood up. At this moment, he was no longer the grinning pharmacy owner.
He was the Zheng Dafeng who had fought five "death-seeking" battles with Li Er, the one who had once killed dozens of gatekeepers who came to Pearl Grotto Heaven seeking opportunities outside the little town.
The woman smiled faintly. "I can't beat you right now."
But she quickly added, "Temporarily."
Her entire form turned into wispy strands of dark green mist, then shot up into the clouds, merging with the sea of clouds.
The next moment, she sat at the edge of the cloud sea, her feet dangling in the air, gently swinging back and forth, causing the entire cloud sea to ripple slightly in response, like a city girl on a swing. She drank wine and gazed out at the ocean.
A bright moon rose over the sea.
In the bright eyes of the woman watching the scene, there was also this sight.
At dawn, Chen Ping'an was already in the courtyard practicing walking the stakes. The world was still and silent, with only the morning light lazily resting on the young man's shoulders.
By the time the Golden Core sword cultivator Ma Zhi pushed open the door and walked out, Chen Ping'an had already finished his stake-walking practice and was sitting at the stone table, flipping through "The Orthodoxy of Sword Arts." During his breaks from boxing practice, Chen Ping'an had never stopped reading. He had miscellaneous books he bought along the way, landscape travelogues he had "borrowed" from the prefect's mansion study in Colorful Garment Country, and of course the Confucian introductory classic given by the old scholar. Plus, having traveled with his disciple Cui Dongshan, he had long known that the term "orthodoxy" (zhengjing) was not the colloquial "serious" but a grand designation. A book being called a "classic" (jing) was already the pinnacle of secular writing, and adding a "correct" (zheng) made it even more extraordinary.
Although Zheng Dafeng looked like a slacker, he was actually not careless about certain things.
Zheng Dafeng didn't like Chen Ping'an, and Chen Ping'an didn't exactly like this gatekeeper from the little town either.
But mutual dislike didn't mean one could only see the other's annoying traits. Mutual affection, likewise, didn't mean one could only see the good.
Just like Gu Can—young as he was, with a gloomy temperament. Chen Ping'an was afraid that with him following young master Mao of the River-Severing True Lord at Book-Scream Lake day and night, Gu Can would eventually become the kind of person he most detested in his childhood. Li Huai—when he first left home, he was the typical bully at home but cowardly outside. How was he now? Would he dare to step forward when a friend was being bullied, instead of hiding behind Chen Ping'an like he did during the trip to Great Sui? Lin Shouyi—although mature and steady, a fine jade for the Dao, single-mindedly pursuing the Dao, Chen Ping'an worried if that was good. But what if he focused only on the Dao to the point that even sworn friends like Li Baoping and Li Huai became mere hindrances? Would Lin Shouyi, in his path, disregard old bonds and drift apart from them? How would that be?
And his best friend, Liu Xianyang, who had early on declared he wanted to see the highest mountains and the greatest rivers beyond his hometown, that he absolutely could not die in such a small place. Would Liu Xianyang, after growing accustomed to towering peaks and mountain scenery, simply not want to return to his hometown at all?
Chen Ping'an always had worries like these. That was why he genuinely envied Fan Er's carefree existence.
Chen Ping'an was different from his neighbors Song Jixin and Ma Kuxuan from Apricot Flower Lane. Both were favored sons of heaven destined to soar high. One, Song Jixin, if he saw something desirable he couldn't obtain, would mostly sneer and mock. The other, Ma Kuxuan, if in a bad mood, might just smash it with a fist—"If I can't have it, you won't either."
Chen Ping'an slightly reined in his thoughts and continued flipping through the sword manual that Zheng Dafeng had temporarily named "The Orthodoxy of Sword Arts."
If "orthodoxy" (zhengjing) was grand, then "sword art" (jianshu) was very small, because sword art was the martial technique learned by martial artists and swordsmen. Only sword cultivators among Qi refiners could speak of the "sword Dao." The Colorful Garment Country Sword God killed by Ma Kuxuan, the Comb-Water Country Sword Saint Song Yushao, the Ancient Elm Country Sword Venerable Lin Gushan, and the Pine Creek Country Sword Immortal Su Lang—all were martial artists from the mundane world, basically roaming the martial underworld, not regarded as peers by mountain cultivators.
That fellow wearing a bamboo hat and hanging a bamboo knife at his waist was an exception. He was the most formidable sword cultivator under heaven, yet he still liked to call himself a swordsman and enjoyed wandering the world.
This sword manual recorded only six sword techniques: two offensive, two defensive, and two for tempering the sword cultivator's body and soul. The two offensive were the Avalanche Form and the Suppress the God's Head Form; the two defensive were the Mountain Form and the Armored Form. The other two, one called Refinement and the other called Absorption of Spirit, were used not for killing but for nurturing the body. Refinement was somewhat similar to the six-step stake-walking of the Mountain-Toppling Fist Manual, while Absorption of Spirit was like the sword-furnace standing stake, one moving and one still.
Among the six techniques, Chen Ping'an especially liked the Avalanche Form. The sword momentum was extremely fast, and the person moved with the sword like a flurry of snow, dazzling to the eye.
Each of the six techniques had a corresponding illustration.
The page with the illustration was quite magical; the paper was different from the adjacent snow-white pages—it was a pale silver. The figure drawn on it practiced swordsmanship continuously, from the starting move to sheathing the sword, repeating in a cycle, meticulous and precise. Moreover, the swordsman in the picture had a golden thread of energy flowing slowly along a specific trajectory inside his body.
No matter how complicated and complex a sword technique was, in the end, it was static. A martial arts genius could imitate it seven or eight times in form after watching it several times. The crucial point lay in the path of true qi circulation when executing the move. This was the key to why superior martial arts often became the exclusive heritage of a single clan. The martial artist's true qi—where it originated in which energy chamber, which acupoints it passed through, where it finally stopped—whether during this process it surged through all the energy chambers in one go, or whether its speed varied, all were important and great knowledge. Why was there the concept of "direct disciple"? Because often, these things were not recorded on paper manuals but passed down through generations directly from master to student.
The cover had four characters: The Orthodoxy of Sword Arts.
The preface had a few dozen words, generally explaining the origin of the sword manual.
The main text gave a detailed explanation of the qi circulation methods for the six techniques.
The annotations were Zheng Dafeng's own insights and experiences.
These four sections were written by Zheng Dafeng using four different calligraphy styles: charming and delicate, dignified and elegant, bold and unrestrained, and sickly thin like willow branches.
There were thick, rich strokes, like the mature women in the Dust Pharmacy; dry, astringent strokes; and strokes of moderate thickness.
Undoubtedly, this was Zheng Dafeng showing off his calligraphy skills.
But there was no denying that this display greatly impressed Chen Ping'an. He thought, sure enough, this gatekeeper who idled about all day, drawing on the ground with tree branches, had managed to cultivate such solid calligraphy skills.
The Golden Core old man sat down slowly opposite the young man only after Chen Ping'an had closed the sword manual. "This place is already shielded by the shade of the ancestral osmanthus tree at the mountain top. As long as the commotion isn't too great, the ferry passengers outside won't notice. Chen Ping'an, I've already told you about my realm. Today is the first day of sword testing. Before that, let me say a bit more. If I mention something you've already heard, you can tell me directly and I'll skip it."
Chen Ping'an nodded and sat up straight.
The old man spoke slowly: "There's a saying in the mountains: 'A sixty-year-old is an old Qi refiner, a hundred-year-old is a young sword cultivator.' This means that a Qi refiner who enters the middle five realms at sixty is no longer considered a genius of the Dao. But a sword cultivator at the sixth realm, even if already a hundred years old when breaking through, is still considered a promising young cultivator. Why?"
Without waiting for Chen Ping'an to speak, the old man answered his own question: "Very simple. We sword cultivators have the greatest killing power under heaven. Becoming a Qi refiner is already difficult; becoming a sword cultivator requires even more talent. And then, whether one can nurture a natal flying sword is another major hurdle. Finally, after managing to nurture a flying sword, whether one can afford to sustain this 'little ancestor' that consumes gold and silver mountains is even harder. I, Ma Zhi, am two hundred and seventy years old. I broke through to the Golden Core realm eighty years ago, causing quite a stir in Old Dragon City at the time. Four of the five great surnames simultaneously offered generous terms to hire me as a retainer... A good man doesn't boast of past glories. Let's not dwell on those stale matters. Let me just say that at the beginning of my breakthrough, I understood one thing: I need never dream of reaching the Land Immortal or Nascent Soul realm. Why?"
The old man answered his own question again: "First, insufficient talent. Second, truly no money."
Having said this, the old man smiled mockingly. "If the Fan family were willing to spend half their fortune to help me refine my natal flying sword, to purchase rare treasures everywhere, and to build a sword furnace, perhaps I could have broken through the ninth-realm bottleneck. But no matter how good the Fan family is, they cannot act that way. After all, I don't bear the surname Fan."
Although the old man fully understood, he was still filled with loss, a trace of undeniable loneliness on his weathered face.
The Fan family's stance was perfectly reasonable.
The Golden Core old man seemed to be convincing himself, to ease his own heart, muttering: "Take for example the Dragon-Tiger Mountain, which stands shoulder to shoulder with the three teachings of Daoism. Even there, they distinguish between the Yellow-Purple Nobility of the Heavenly Master Mansion and 'outer-surname' Heavenly Masters. Throughout history, many outer-surname Heavenly Masters have been brilliant and extraordinary, even including Upper Five Realm immortals. In history, there have been cases where an outer-surname Heavenly Master's Dao technique surpassed that of the Grand Heavenly Master of the Heavenly Master Mansion. Yet that one Heavenly Master Seal and that one immortal sword have never fallen into the hands of an outer-surname Heavenly Master."
Chen Ping'an understood this easily, nodding. "Weapons are the instruments of state catastrophe. Those great immortal clans and powerful families are actually not much different from a country in terms of power. If a single family or country sets no rules at all, even if they achieve temporary prosperity, they are only planting the seeds of disaster. Their descendants will have to expend several times the effort to restore order in the future."
"Exactly!"
The Golden Core old man nodded in agreement. He had always mistaken the young man before him for a child of a high-class family, so Chen Ping'an's insight did not surprise him at all.
The old man then sighed. "That said, in this complex world full of emerging immortals and rampaging demons, there are still many people who act only according to their preferences, who want to smash everything with a single fist or sword. It's not that what they do is entirely wrong. To be honest, that lawless, carefree pleasure inevitably makes onlookers feel a bit envious. But such people can exist; they just cannot be universally admired. Especially if you watch the excitement too long, that day when that fist or sword inexplicably lands on your own head—truly bitter."
Obviously, the old man must have suffered such unprovoked disasters.
The old man sighed again. A Golden Core cultivator, especially a sword cultivator, could have a place even in the Central Earth Divine Continent; it was just that from being a top scholar of a country in Vase Continent, he had become a jinshi. Still, he could never become a truly carefree immortal.
Ma Zhi suppressed the ripples in his heart and said with a slight smile: "Young Master Chen is a martial artist. But since you want to practice swordsmanship, using me as a simulated enemy, you should understand the ins and outs of Qi refiners..."
Ma Zhi suddenly stopped. "I imagine Young Master already understands all this. Should I stop rambling?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "Master Ma, please continue. Good words are never too many."
Ma Zhi smiled faintly. "The middle five realms of Qi refiners are: Cave Abode, Sea-Viewing, Dragon Gate, Golden Core, and Nascent Soul. At the Golden Core realm, which I am at, one can condense the entire qi sea into a single golden pill. As for the quality, size, and imagery of the golden core, it varies from person to person. Generally speaking, from the quality of one's 'pill chamber' during the Dragon Gate realm, one can roughly predict the quality of the golden core. In my case, my pill chamber was crude, and I barely managed to form a core, so my golden core's quality was naturally poor. That's how I knew I had no hope for Nascent Soul. If it weren't so, why would I, Ma Zhi, a Golden Core sword cultivator, still be unable to overcome Chu Yang, who cultivates at Ascending Dragon Terrace? Over the years in Old Dragon City, I don't know how many Golden Core peers and those middle-five-realm youngsters have mocked me behind my back for this. Over time, a saying spread: 'Clever as a child, not so great as an adult—that's Ma Zhi for you!'"
Speaking of this embarrassing matter, Ma Zhi laughed heartily, clearly without any lingering trauma.
Chen Ping'an suddenly asked: "Master Ma, may I ask a question about your cultivation realm?"
Ma Zhi nodded. "Of course."
Chen Ping'an asked cautiously: "At what age did Master Ma enter the Dragon Gate realm, and how many images and scenes were there in your pill chamber?"
Ma Zhi's heart suddenly understood.
Sure enough, this was a scion from the finest immortal families. Someone else could never have asked such a question.
Those wild, mountain-fringe cultivators who stumbled into the middle five realms might never know in their entire lives that the pill chamber of the Dragon Gate realm could contain more than one painting. True Dao prodigies could have two pill chamber "murals." Among the senior cultivators Ma Zhi had encountered in his life, several Nascent Soul Earth Immortals all had two. One Jade Pure Realm immortal had three—truly astonishing.
Ma Zhi stroked his beard and smiled, not hiding anything, speaking frankly: "As I mentioned earlier, I broke through to the ninth realm Golden Core at the age of one hundred and ninety. As for the Dragon Gate realm, that was a very long time ago—over one hundred and twenty years old. I started cultivating relatively late; otherwise, I could have leaped through the Dragon Gate before a hundred without much trouble."
Chen Ping'an looked shocked, swallowing his saliva.
Ma Zhi thought the young man was surprised by his own cultivation talent, so the old man's smile held a bit more pride.
Little did he know, Chen Ping'an asked this question because he remembered a time in his ancestral home on Mud Vase Lane, when a girl muttered to herself with frustration and discontent. Chen Ping'an had pricked up his ears and caught every word: "I only reached the Dragon Gate realm," "In my pill chamber, there were six mansion patterns," "Haven't yet dotted the eyes on the dragon, haven't yet had a celestial maiden flying to heaven..."
Chen Ping'an silently took off his Sword-Nurturing Gourd, took a sip of the fragrant osmanthus brew, to calm himself down. He took two more sips, to steady his nerves.
Ma Zhi, none the wiser, instead smiled and comforted the young man: "Young Master Chen, given your outstanding aptitude, even if you walk the martial path, your future achievements will only surpass mine. As long as you keep your feet on the ground, the Great Dao is promising! Let's start with you getting used to my sword aura today."
Chen Ping'an smiled awkwardly and nodded. "Okay!"
Ma Zhi stood up, his expression serious. "The three martial qi refining realms are soul, spirit, and courage. Among these, the three souls are the Ethereal Soul, the Active Soul, and the Substantive Soul. I will use three different types of sword aura to wash, rush, and hone your three souls respectively. I will naturally be careful not to damage your vital energy. During this time, you can also practice the four offensive and defensive techniques from that sword manual—if you can manage it..."
The old man gave a meaningful smile.
Although he didn't know why the young man already had the rudiments of a complete soul, spirit, and courage, being invaded by the sword aura of a Golden Core sword cultivator, sweeping through his three souls—that experience would be far from pleasant. Forget gritting one's teeth to practice sword techniques; just standing steady would be a challenge. That said, if Chen Ping'an could indeed do it, even just for a short while, the four sword techniques recorded in the manual would surely progress rapidly.
"Young Master Chen, be careful. I'll start with one-tenth of my sword intent to test the thickness of your three souls."
Ma Zhi smiled. A natal flying sword shot out from the old man's chest and hovered between the two of them. "I named this sword 'Cool Shade.' It was born under the shade of a giant tree and has accompanied me for over two hundred years. It's not particularly sharp, but when facing an enemy, it's quite good at quietly damaging their spirit and soul."
Chen Ping'an adjusted the Sword-Nurturing Gourd at his waist and patted it twice firmly, signaling to the flying swords "First Dawn" and "Fifteen" inside to calm down and not come out to show off to a colleague.
Then Chen Ping'an furrowed his brows slightly, standing motionless, his breathing and exhalation exactly as usual.
As for the old man, he was inwardly deeply shocked.