Chapter 268: The Myriad Affairs of the World Are as Fine as Hairs

Chapter 268: The Myriad Affairs of the World Are as Fine as Hairs

A great mountain hung upside down between heaven and earth.
Its peak pointed toward the waters of the Southern Sea.
Chen Ping'an sat on a high branch of the ancestral osmanthus tree, staring in a daze at that breathtaking scene. Miss Ning had set out from this very place to wander the vast world of Haoran.
He had heard that Bodhisattva Continent was the nearest major continent. Would Liu Xianyang ever come here to see it one day?
From Osmanthus Island to the actual boundary of Daoxuan Mountain, there was still about half a day's voyage. The ferry boats coming and going in all directions were bizarre and varied: there were giant turtles carrying steles; translucent clam shells floating on the sea's surface; kun-ships even larger than the ones from Dajiao Mountain slowly descending; a sea of colorful clouds with countless magpies clustered beneath them; rows of cranes and bluebirds dragging a tall building. Osmanthus Island, sitting among them all, was not at all surprising.

Chen Ping'an suddenly turned around and looked down.
He saw that young woman again—willowy figure, beautiful face, hairpin in her hair, dressed in a skirt and robe, with a colorful sash around her waist...
But Chen Ping'an's scalp tingled, and he felt extremely uncomfortable. This feeling was even more direct and jarring than when he had seen Liu Chicheng wearing a pink Daoist robe in that dilapidated temple.
Because Chen Ping'an had spotted the "beauty's" Adam's apple.
It wasn't that he disliked it; he just wasn't used to it.

Chen Ping'an suddenly scratched his head and stared straight at that man who loved women's makeup. The little knot of unease in his heart vanished completely, replaced by a touch of nostalgia.
Back when he was an apprentice at the Dragon Kiln, Chen Ping'an had known a man who was ridiculed as a sissy. He was timid in nature, walked with a mincing gait, and when he spoke, he liked to cast flirtatious glances and make delicate hand gestures. Under the kiln master Yao Laotou, this man was the most discriminated against. If he managed to save up enough money to buy new shoes, they would inevitably be trampled dirty by the other kiln workers that very day. He never dared to say anything, just silently endured it. In the Dragon Kiln, logically speaking, he and Chen Ping'an—who was also unpopular—should have been fellow sufferers. But strangely, once that crybaby sissy faced Chen Ping'an, his guts immediately grew. He would constantly needle Chen Ping'an with sarcastic remarks. Chen Ping'an never paid him any attention. Several times, the sissy couldn't keep his mouth shut and accidentally got caught by Liu Xianyang, Yao Laotou's formal disciple. Liu Xianyang would slap him so hard he spun on the spot, and then he would immediately behave. Later, he would secretly slip some snacks and pastries into Liu Xianyang's room, each package wrapped in oil paper more delicately than any shop assistant could manage. That man was probably both apologizing and ingratiating himself to Liu Xianyang, the future kiln master.

The festive paper-cuts pasted on the Dragon Kiln's windows were all cut out by him alone, staying up late at night. Even the women in the alley would have to admit their inferiority when they saw them. Heaven knows, if that man had been a woman, how skilled in needlework he would have been.

At the time, Chen Ping'an certainly hated that sissy who said such nasty things, but he was afraid that if he let himself go, he would punch the man half to death. By then, Chen Ping'an had already followed the old man all over the mountains and rivers around the town, and chopping firewood and burning charcoal were routine for him. Having practiced old man Yang's breathing technique since he was very young, his strength surpassed that of a grown man.

Finally, one night when the sissy was on night watch, he caused a huge disaster: one of the Dragon Kiln's fires went out under his watch. Then he got so scared that he fled that very night. He wasn't completely without cunning—he didn't dare run toward the town, but instead bolted deep into the mountains.

If this had happened in the marketplace, it would have been a capital crime worthy of cutting off one's entire lineage. Yao Laotou, his face ashen, didn't say a word. He immediately sent several dozen strong young men to chase after that damned bastard. Chen Ping'an, who knew the mountain paths well, was naturally among them.

Two days later, the sissy was tied up and brought back to the Dragon Kiln. Yao Laotou broke his arms and legs on the spot, beating him until his flesh split and his white bones were exposed.
The ones who found him were precisely the group of men he had always fawned over the most.
No one felt any sympathy for the man who had caused such a calamity. Even if someone did, they didn't dare show it on their faces, because Yao Laotou had almost never been that angry.

Before his arms and legs were broken, the sissy had already wet his pants in terror. When he was pressed to the ground, his whole body trembled. Then someone hit him with a club, and he screamed in agony, his face covered in snot and tears. After a flurry of random blows, the sissy was like a live fish being chopped on a chopping block. He was such a sissy that, until the very end when he passed out from the pain, he never showed a shred of masculine backbone.

The sissy didn't die from the beating. He lay in bed for half a year and stubbornly recovered.
During that time, many kiln workers and apprentices took care of him, Chen Ping'an included. Many people weren't willing to do that thankless job, so they asked Chen Ping'an to do it for them. In the end, it was Chen Ping'an—whom the sissy disliked the most—who took care of him the most. But the two of them wouldn't speak a word all day, and ultimately they never really liked each other.

Chen Ping'an simply gathered herbs and decocted medicine every day. The sissy would sometimes stare blankly at the old window paper, bleached by wind and rain, perhaps thinking that if he could get back to work someday, he would take the time to replace it with brand-new, bright red window paper.
But the sissy, who had already survived a brush with death once—that man who had gritted his teeth and crawled back from the gates of hell while lying in that sickbed—still died.
He was killed by a single sentence.
It was a careless remark from a kiln worker. At the time, Chen Ping'an was decocting medicine at the door, his back to the kiln worker and the sissy. The former laughed and said, "Hey, sissy, the other day when you got beaten, your clothes were torn to shreds and your white butt showed. You really look like a woman."
Chen Ping'an didn't think anything was wrong with that then.
The men at the Dragon Kiln cursed the sissy with far worse and more venomous words on a daily basis. The sissy almost never argued back—he didn't dare. At most, he would mutter a retort under his breath when no one was around: "You dare curse me? Believe me, your ancestors' graves for eighteen generations will explode."
But after that harmless remark, the sissy, who could already sit up on his own, talked a lot with Chen Ping'an that day. It was mostly him talking, and Chen Ping'an, who was usually taciturn, listened patiently. When the topic of window paper came up, Chen Ping'an sincerely praised his paper-cutting skills, and the sissy would smile.
Then, that night, a sissy whose courage was smaller than a needle's eye actually used a pair of scissors to pierce his own throat. He even remembered to cover himself with a blanket so that anyone entering the room wouldn't see his death-mask first.
No one even dared to carry the body out—it was too gruesome and unlucky.
Fortunately, Chen Ping'an was used to life and death around him and didn't care about such taboos. He dragged Liu Xianyang along and busied himself with the arrangements. During that time, he felt neither much sorrow nor any particular insight. Only when he was keeping vigil alone in the empty, gloomy funeral hall, without a trace of fear, did he sit by the brazier and murmur, "Since you didn't like being a man in this life, then be reborn as a woman in the next."

Actually, during that idle chat, the sissy had asked Chen Ping'an why, when he was the first to find him, he had let him go and pointed out a path deeper into the mountains.
Chen Ping'an said, "I was afraid that if you got caught, Yao Laotou would beat you to death. And with your chicken guts, even if you turned into a vengeful ghost, you wouldn't dare take revenge on anyone else—you'd only dare to take it out on me."
At that time, the sissy laughed especially happily.
Even now, when Chen Ping'an looked back, the sissy's laugh had still been pretty ugly.
But still, it was impossible to really hate him.

Beneath the osmanthus tree, that "young woman" with bright features was now furious. Being stared at so unwaveringly by someone—if only it weren't for the fear of damaging the osmanthus tree and causing unnecessary trouble, she—or more accurately, he—would have summoned his two life-bound flying swords and stabbed this dog-eyed bastard to death.

Chen Ping'an snapped out of his reverie and realized his rudeness. He cupped his fists in apology and said, "Sorry, I was spacing out."
The man narrowed his peach-blossom eyes, which seemed to hang with the allure of spring, and extended two fingers pressed together, pointing at Chen Ping'an. Then he crooked them in a gesture that was dripping with provocation.

Chen Ping'an no longer just turned his head; he turned his whole body around and patted the empty spot beside him on the high branch. "As an apology," he said with a smile, "I can promise you, with Madam Gui's permission, that you can enjoy the view of Daoxuan Mountain from here."
The man clasped his hands behind his back, raised his face—bright as a spring breeze—and said with a sly smile, "Do you like men? Or do you like anyone as long as they're good-looking?"

Chen Ping'an felt a headache coming on. He shook his head vigorously to show his innocence.
He of course only liked girls.
And only one girl.
Behind the man's hands—concealed behind his back—a wisp of golden sword-qi and a wisp of white sword-qi appeared, extremely faint, almost invisible.
Clearly, if words failed, he would kill with flying swords.

Chen Ping'an hesitated for a moment, then smiled. "You might be even more upset if I say this, but... you look very good dressed like that."
Chen Ping'an rested his hands on the tree branch, his eyes clear. "That's my honest opinion."

The man, adorned in women's makeup and clothing, frowned.
He turned and left silently, but he didn't leave the mountaintop. Instead, he stood near the railing of the viewing platform, gazing into the distance.

Chen Ping'an jumped down from the branch and called out to his back, "I'm going now. If you want to admire the view from the osmanthus tree, it's best to do it when there aren't many people around. Otherwise, Madam Gui might not be happy."
The man remained indifferent.

Not until Chen Ping'an had gone far did he turn his head to glance at the osmanthus tree. He hesitated for a long time, but in the end, he didn't go up higher to look at Daoxuan Mountain.
As for those two wisps of sword-qi, they had long since been taken back into the colorful sash at his waist.
They weren't actually sword-qi; they just looked unremarkable. They were actually two life-bound flying swords of extremely high quality, named "Needle Point" and "Wheat Tip" respectively.
He was born with them.
He was what was called an innate sword embryo.
And to be born with two life-bound flying swords was one in a million among sword cultivators—the emphasis wasn't on the "one," but on the "none."
The key was that the quality of the flying swords was so frightening that his master said he was destined to become a sword immortal of the Upper Five Realms. Otherwise, his master wouldn't have accepted him as a disciple.
But how many years it would take to reach the Jade Perfection Realm, his master didn't say, and he didn't ask. He wasn't interested in the slightest. He was far more obsessed with the art of deriving the Great Dao. Unfortunately, his master said he wouldn't go far on that path and couldn't inherit the sect's mantle. All his fellow disciples, including his master, urged him to cultivate the sword path. He knew that they didn't really expect him to reach the peak of swordsmanship; they were being malicious, wanting to see him make a fool of himself.
The reason was simple.
He had a fear of heights.
A sword cultivator with a fear of heights—what kind of nonsense was that?
These days, when he occasionally rode his flying sword on a long-distance trip, he never went more than two zhang above the ground.
He glanced at the high branch of the osmanthus tree where that guy had been sitting, and thought to himself that he was pretty dumb too.

Chen Ping'an returned to the Gui Vein Courtyard. The Golden Core sword cultivator Ma Zhi was already standing in the courtyard, welcoming him with a smile.
It turned out that Chen Ping'an had taken the initiative to go to the courtyard where Ma Zhi was recovering to ask when they could continue the sword trial. Three days later, the Gui Vein Courtyard had been restored to its original state. Ma Zhi helped Chen Ping'an with the sword trial, while Jin Su handled the daily meals. Occasionally, Madam Gui would come to the courtyard, but she wouldn't disturb them; she would just sit quietly for a while, at most brew a pot of tea for them before leaving.

During this period, Chen Ping'an took out the talisman paper where the Withered Bone Beauty Ghost was hiding. Madam Gui held it in her hand and quickly "shook" the white-clad female ghost out of the talisman. That female ghost—who had been so fierce at the City God Temple in the Colorful Garment Kingdom—saw the light of day for the first time and found herself facing a Nascent Soul-stage Madam Gui, an old ferryman who had fallen from Earth Immortal to Golden Core, a Golden Core sword cultivator Ma Zhi, and her enemy Chen Ping'an.
If she hadn't been dead already, she would have been scared into soul-flying and spirit-scattering again.
Finally, with the help of Madam Gui—a "false saint" in this small world of Osmanthus Island—the Withered Bone Beauty Ghost swore a heavy soul oath to serve Chen Ping'an for sixty years. As a reward, she could move out of the talisman paper, where her soul would gradually dissipate without spiritual energy, and "move into" the locust-wood sword case.
This was because ancient locust trees had always been considered "residences for spirits," and not just for plant spirits; ghosts and other yin entities also favored locust trees over a thousand years old.

Earlier, one night as they neared Daoxuan Mountain, the stars were brilliant. The old ferryman suddenly came to find Chen Ping'an and took him to a dock at the foot of Osmanthus Island. When Chen Ping'an arrived, he saw a young flood dragon scrambling on the dock, its head resting on the shore and most of its body submerged in the sea. It looked at Chen Ping'an with eyes full of childish curiosity and gratitude.
The old ferryman crouched by the shore and exclaimed in wonder, "This poor little thing—if we were to compare it to a human, it would be about six or seven years old. Madam Gui didn't want to trouble this innocent little creature, so she only kept the Dragon King's basket and let it go. But it seemed to have no home to return to, so it quickly caught up to Osmanthus Island. It didn't dare come too close, just whimpered all night, circling the island without leaving. Now that we're getting closer to Daoxuan Mountain, the little thing probably knows that if it goes any further, it will surely die. It's been howling loudly even during the day. If it weren't for Madam Gui taking pity on it and helping to conceal its aura, the cultivators on the mountain who hold a grudge would have already skinned it and pulled out its sinews."
The old ferryman finally smiled and said, "Chen Ping'an, it seems to have come looking for you especially. Whether it's to repay a kindness or seek revenge, who knows? Though it's very young, flood dragons are by nature cold-blooded and cunning. Hard to say."
Chen Ping'an said nothing. He took out an ordinary snake gallstone and tossed it to the young flood dragon. It gulped it down by instinct and then looked a bit bewildered.
Chen Ping'an waved his hand, signaling it to go back.
The young dragon twisted around and returned to the sea, still whimpering softly, unwilling to leave the waters of Osmanthus Island. Chen Ping'an thought for a moment, then threw a large handful of ordinary snake gallstones into the sea.
The young flood dragon churned wildly, splashing huge waves, and swallowed each one of what were, for it, the most delicious things in the world.
Finally, standing on the dock, Chen Ping'an spoke to it: "Cultivate well from now on. You've accepted my kindness today. If you end up harming others like that old flood dragon, I'll punch you to death."
The young dragon swam back to the dock, its head rising above the shore, its eyes wide, as if trying to remember Chen Ping'an's face.
After a moment, it arched back and retreated into the sea.

The old ferryman, who had seen many storms, sighed. "You meant well, forming a good karmic connection. But things in this world are unpredictable; a good connection doesn't always lead to good fruit."
Chen Ping'an's gaze was indifferent as he stared at the sea surface, sparkling like golden and silver fragments under the starlight. He said softly, "If it becomes an evil connection, I'll cut it with a single sword."
At that time, the old ferryman was thinking about his master, who would disappear again for who knew how many centuries, and about the Golden Book left in the mortal world by an immortal that Chen Ping'an had handed over to him. He didn't pay much attention to Chen Ping'an's expression or words.

---

The Mountain Cliff Academy in Great Sui.
Those classmates and fellow disciples who had left the Great Li Pass back then, once they arrived at this East Mountain, were destined to never have the chance to spend day and night together again.
For example, Li Huai had made two new friends: one was a timid son of a high-ranking family in the capital, and the other was a bold, mischievous boy from a poor family. Both were slightly older than Li Huai. The three of them played wildly together every day, having a wonderful time.
Lin Shouyi, now obsessed with cultivation, read extensively, moving back and forth between the library, the dormitory, and the lecture hall, standing out like a crane among chickens.
Yu Lu had grown close with the Great Sui prince Gao Xuan; they had become good friends. Gao Xuan was increasingly fond of coming to the academy to fish with Yu Lu.
Xie Xie, aside from attending lectures from their teachers, spent most of his time in seclusion, willingly serving as Cui Dongshan's maid.

After Li Baoping had read her Little Uncle's latest letter last time, she seemed a bit downcast for a long time afterward.
One day, she played truant again. Like a little wildcat, nimble and quick, she climbed all the way up to the big tree at the peak of East Mountain. She sat on a branch, her back against the trunk, the homemade wooden plaque engraved with "Martial Arts Alliance Leader" hanging around her neck. Later, thinking it wasn't imposing enough, she added "Commands All Heroes," and then she went on an engraving spree. That small wooden plaque was now covered with grand, heroic maxims she had copied from storybooks—things like "This life I regret having never met a worthy opponent" and so on.

A handsome, elegant white-clad youth stood on a nearby branch, swaying slightly with the movement of the branch, and asked with a smile, "What's wrong? In a huff?"
Now that summer had arrived, the little girl had swapped her red cotton-padded jacket for a thin red dress. She said sullenly, "I'm not in a huff."

Cui Dongshan asked, "Is it that you feel Li Huai and Lin Shouyi are drifting further away from you?"
The little girl said irritably, "So what if they're far away from me? When I was at the village school, I never wanted to deal with them anyway."

Cui Dongshan smiled knowingly. "Then it must be you're feeling indignant on behalf of my master?"
The little girl was straightforward and generously nodded. "Mm."

Cui Dongshan clasped his hands behind his head and sighed. "People all grow up. When they grow up, they pick up new things and throw away old things. Then, while they're picking and throwing—whoosh—they suddenly become old."
The little girl said angrily, "Do you mean they should throw even Little Uncle away?!"
Cui Dongshan turned his head to look at the indignant little girl and said with a gentle smile, "What's there to be upset about? Besides, even if my master knew about this, he wouldn't be angry. So why are you angry? There's no need."

The little girl crossed her arms in a huff.
Cui Dongshan turned his head back and looked toward the Great Sui capital city. "In the future, you might meet a very good friend, one you grow up with sharing secrets. Then one day she'll get married, and she'll love her husband more. You might meet a better teacher than Qi Jingchun, and then one day you'll think that Teacher Qi's knowledge isn't the greatest after all. You might meet... a fine young man, even better than your little uncle, and then you'll find that all your worries and sorrows now are just that—they'll go down your throat with a drink or two..."

Cui Dongshan suddenly snapped his head back, surprised. "Little Baoping, you didn't even argue with me! If you don't say anything, I'll run out of words!"
The little girl wrinkled her pretty little face. "I'm busy being sad!"
Cui Dongshan roared with laughter. He leaned back and fell, landing sideways on a slender branch. Propping his head on one hand, he stared at the little girl in red.

Maybe one day, the little girl would grow taller, her round little face would become slender, her chin delicate, and her eyes would still be so moist, clear and lively. She would still wear red clothes, would gallop by the rivers and lakes, would drink wine among the mountains and rivers, and would probably meet happy things and sad people, right?
Cui Dongshan sighed.
He was a bit worried.
If such a good girl really fell in love with his master one day, that would be very troubling.
But if one day she actually ceased to love his master the most, that would be even more regrettable.

Cui Dongshan turned on his side, closed his eyes, and began to sleep, crossing one leg over the other.
As for those chance encounters and the drifting apart of hearts—even though Cui Dongshan now had the appearance of a youth, those hardships and experiences were all stored in his heart, not a whit less than in the Great Li National Teacher Cui Chan.

He had one thing he didn't tell the little girl.
He, Cui Dongshan, as well as old Cui Chan, Zuo You, Mao Xiaodong, and even Qi Jingchun—all of them had grown up bit by bit under the shade of the old scholar's tree. But in the end, everyone wanted to walk out from under that immensely large shade. Those who walked out were better off; those who couldn't—their hearts slowly changed.

Not far away, the red-clothed girl put away her wooden plaque. She carefully pulled a scroll from her bosom. On it, a youth stood beneath an osmanthus tree, smiling at her.
The little girl's sorrow vanished in an instant. Her face lit up with joy, and she chuckled happily. "Little Uncle looks so handsome now that he knows how to drink. When I'm older, I'm definitely going to ask him to take me roaming the jianghu!"
The more she thought about it, the more excited she became. She turned her head and shouted, "Cui Dongshan, is drinking hard?"
Cui Dongshan flatly refused. "You can't drink!"
Li Baoping fumed. "Why not?!"
Cui Dongshan said resentfully, "My master wouldn't scold you even once, but he'd beat me to death directly!"
Li Baoping sighed, shook her head, and said pityingly, "How pitiful."
Cui Dongshan glanced at the smiling little girl. "Little Baoping, when you comfort people next time, please hide your smirk."
Li Baoping made a seal-stamping gesture.
Cui Dongshan groaned and muttered, "No good deed goes unpunished."

---

Between Daoxuan Mountain and the sea, there were "waterways"—like rivers of water and clouds—hanging in the air, allowing all ferry boats to ascend the mountain. Even ferries that could ride the wind had to first descend to the sea surface, not approaching Daoxuan Mountain directly.
Osmanthus Island docked briefly at one of these waterways at the bottom. They formally submitted a talisman document, similar to a travel permit, but did not pay that notoriously exorbitant toll. Then they proceeded along the upward-sloping waterway toward Daoxuan Mountain.
Daoxuan Mountain, a solitary peak in the mortal world, had a radius of a hundred li, a truly vast territory.

A tall Daoist with the face of a middle-aged man stood on a cliff. Behind him stood an emaciated old Daoist, who looked like an immortal with an otherworldly bearing, holding a horsetail whisk. The whisk's threads, in gold and silver, were all made from flood dragon whiskers. The old Daoist said softly, "Master, does your disciple need to smash Osmanthus Island?"
The tall Daoist said with a smile, "If you lose a bet, you accept it. What's there to be ashamed of? It's not like you're your grandmaster, who never knew defeat in his entire life."

As this Great Celestial Lord of Daoxuan Mountain spoke...
In the Azure Sky World.
A Daoist was punched from the heavens above the sky down into the mortal realm of the Azure Sky World.