Chapter 282: Thought Without Evil

Chapter 282: Thought Without Evil

(Sorry to keep everyone waiting~)

Chen Ping'an waited quietly at the Stork Inn. Having left the lawless place of the Sword Qi Great Wall, practicing his fists became relaxed again, and before he knew it, he had finished the last eight thousand punches.

That day, Chen Ping'an stopped at his final fist stance, sat silently by the table, and pulled out a small, lovely emerald-green bamboo slip. Unlike other bamboo slips, it wasn't engraved with enduring, elegant verses, but was instead a tool Chen Ping'an used for calculations—when he reached one hundred thousand punches, two hundred thousand, five hundred thousand—the approximate progress was marked on it.

Chen Ping'an extended his finger and gently traced the carvings on it. Occasionally, there were marks recording a thousand or even just a few hundred punches. Those were the times when Chen Ping'an's heart was most restless—for example, after parting with Mr. Qi at that ruined ancient temple, or in the early days following the catastrophe on Osmanthus Island, and so on. There were many other moments unknown to others. In short, when he practiced boxing with an unsettled mind, no matter how many punches he threw or stances he took, Chen Ping'an would not count them toward the million-punch goal.

And so, one million punches were completed.

Calmly, the Fourth Realm was still the Fourth Realm, and Chen Ping'an was still Chen Ping'an.

Chen Ping'an put away that bamboo slip. This old companion had retired from the battlefield. He selected a fresh new bamboo slip from Green Spirit Mountain, intending to carve the next million punches onto it.

Sunlight sneaked into the room through the window, like a group of children who didn't like to laugh or talk. After growing tired, they lazily sprawled across the table, the floor, and the shoulders of the youth.

Chen Ping'an sat quietly in place, thinking of nothing, or perhaps he thought of something but didn't need to remember it. That was fine too.

A familiar knock sounded at the door. Chen Ping'an immediately snapped back to attention. This time, he didn't ask who it was. He remembered everything about that gatekeeper Sword Immortal—his tone of voice, facial expressions, sword aura, bearing—over and over, Chen Ping'an had a deep memory of them. Even details as trivial as the knock on the door, Chen Ping'an hadn't overlooked. When traveling abroad, caution keeps the boat afloat for thousands of years. The importance of this vigilance was in no way inferior to his fist techniques.

Chen Ping'an didn't ask who it was this time. He got up and opened the door directly. It was indeed that Sword Immortal who liked to doze off. He entered the room, placed a soft, golden rope on the table, and said with a smile, "The Demon Binding Rope, made from the whiskers of an old flood dragon, is truly a magic treasure. I sought out a reclusive master of the Daoist Talisman Sect on Inverted Mountain. He kept two thumb-length segments of the dragon whiskers as a token of compensation. In truth, the heavenly treasures and earthly rarities he expended to make this rope far exceed that loss. Just peeling off three cloud patterns from a single Qingci memorial tablet alone was comparable to the value of those two segments. I mention this not to take credit, but to give credit where it's due. In the end, it's still because of Little Ning's face. These things pale in comparison to that."

Chen Ping'an had not sat down. He cupped his fists and bowed. "Thank you, Sword Immortal Senior."

The man who still had his sword resting on the hitching post waved his hand and pointed at the golden Demon Binding Rope. "After a rough refinement, wherever your intent goes, demon beasts within the Five Realms will find it hard to escape bondage. However, against the Golden Core and Nascent Soul realms, it won't last long. But below Golden Core, they may not be able to break free. The reason the Demon Binding Rope is famous throughout the world—especially high-quality ones—and most cherished by wandering qi refiners, is that like the Dragon King Basket, it can subdue an enemy in one move. It qualifies as a top-tier magic treasure, the kind where 'one unique trick is enough to feast on the world.'"

The man suddenly noticed Chen Ping'an's odd expression and asked, "What's wrong?"

Chen Ping'an said embarrassedly, "I don't know how to refine magic treasures."

The man laughed angrily, "Chen Ping'an, are you joking, or do you think I'm easy to fool? Those two flying swords in your Sword Nurturing Gourd—unless they're fully refined..."

The man, worthy of being one of the few Sword Immortals on the Sword Qi Great Wall, grew serious. He took an extra look at the Sword Nurturing Gourd at Chen Ping'an's waist, nodded, and didn't pursue the matter further, nor did he dig into the details. He said bluntly, "Then I'll teach you a common oral formula for refining magic treasures. Rest assured, you don't owe me a favor. This formula is as common as dirt over on the Sword Qi Great Wall. Consider it a 'buy one, get one free.' However, using this formula to refine objects has the advantage of being easy to learn. The downside is that if a Demon Binding Rope refined with this formula is forcibly taken by an Earth Immortal, he can easily strip away the restrictions you've set and claim it as his own."

The man smiled. "So, in the future, if you encounter powerful demon beasts on Hao Ran World, if it's not necessary, just run. Don't even think about pulling this thing out to repel enemies, or you'll end up as a treasure-giving boy. Alright, I can't stay long. I'll teach you the formula and some precautions through heart-mind transmission. If you don't remember it in one go, I can repeat it twice."

Chen Ping'an nodded. On the surface of his heart-lake, slight ripples stirred. The Sword Immortal's mellow voice resounded slowly in his heart, and Chen Ping'an silently memorized it.

The Sword Immortal asked, "How much did you remember?"

Chen Ping'an honestly replied, "I remembered all of it, but I beg the Senior Sword Immortal to repeat it once more."

The Sword Immortal laughed, "You're quite an unceremonious fellow."

He didn't find it troublesome at all; in fact, he rather appreciated Chen Ping'an's straightforwardness. So he recited the formula again, adding a bit more of his own insights than the first time. Naturally, these were extremely high-level understandings. Chen Ping'an couldn't comprehend them at the moment, so he could only memorize them by rote.

The man wasn't one to drag things out. After finishing the formula, he rose to leave. But just before stepping out of the room, he said to Chen Ping'an, "The talent of Little Ning's generation is simply too good—so good that every old man can laugh in their dreams. And it's not just three or five or a dozen; it's over thirty people. So that world certainly won't sit back and do nothing. That young great demon who beat me has a big reputation, but he might not necessarily be the strongest genius within a hundred years. The Sword Qi Great Wall has ushered in a rare golden age. After centuries of demon beast offensives, I've noticed something strange: even those geniuses who are just a bit inferior to Ning Yao seem to have gone into hiding. That's very unreasonable. So I'm a bit worried. I feel that the Barren Wilderness World is plotting something big. The Thirteen Battles were just a prelude."

Seeing Chen Ping'an listening attentively, the man self-deprecatingly continued, "Talking about this with you probably doesn't help. Just let it go."

Chen Ping'an insisted on seeing the Senior Sword Immortal to the entrance of the Stork Inn. At the alley outside the inn, the Sword Immortal said helplessly, "Just a moment ago, I said you were unceremonious, and now you're being polite. Fine, I'll be unceremonious too."

The Sword Immortal transformed into a rainbow light, rising from the ground toward the foot of Lone Peak Mountain. His boundless and unmatched sword qi vanished into the distance instantly.

Chen Ping'an had a bit of a headache. Sure enough, at the inn, a few guests looked at each other in bewilderment. The young innkeeper stood behind the counter, clicking away at an abacus, seemingly indifferent, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

A guest of extraordinary origins at his own inn certainly wasn't a bad thing—it brought honor and prestige.

When Chen Ping'an walked back into the inn, the few mountain gods and immortals who weren't even that outstanding on Inverted Mountain—otherwise they wouldn't have lodged at a small place like the Stork Inn—even if the inn's main hall was spacious enough, they still subconsciously made way for him. Chen Ping'an had no choice but to pretend he hadn't seen anything. He returned to his room and began to refine the Demon Binding Rope using the formula the Sword Immortal had taught him. It was like drawing talismans—he still couldn't sustain control over this top-grade magic treasure for long. Everything relied on the "one surge of energy" of the pure martial artist's true qi.

When qi is long, strength is great.

But unlike making a talisman, for Chen Ping'an, whose Longevity Bridge had collapsed, using the Demon Binding Rope was trickier. Fortunately, after entering the Fourth Realm, his breathing cycles became more subtle and faster, far quicker than in the Third Realm. So the Demon Binding Rope could be used against demon beasts in the three middle realms—Cavern, Sea Observation, and Dragon Gate—as a trump card. By catching them off guard, he could bind them and then deliver his most damaging fist technique within the shortest time.

Of course, the Demon Binding Rope worked on all qi refiners, but it was especially effective against demon beasts.

If this Demon Binding Rope could be combined with a few talismans tailored to the situation and the opponent, plus his fist techniques for killing, Chen Ping'an felt much more confident.

Chen Ping'an spent a full three hours gradually refining the Demon Binding Rope. When he succeeded, he was drenched in sweat. Fortunately, the ever-reliable Cleansing and Purifying Talisman in the room saved him a lot of trouble.

Afterward, Chen Ping'an took down the Sword Nurturing Gourd, placed it on the table, and stared at it blankly.

Regarding the Thirteen Battles, Ning Yao had spoken openly about them.

She had been willing to recount the details, speaking as if it were nothing.

Chen Ping'an listened to her, not daring to ask too many questions, pretending he was just listening to an inspiring story.

She had even said to him directly, "My parents are gone. I'm very sad, but killing enemies with my own hands is just revenge. I won't overthink it, and you don't need to either."

After saying that, Ning Yao tilted her head back to drink wine, one hand gently covering her heart.

In Chen Ping'an's heart, Ning Yao's sharpness at that moment was far more direct than the first time he saw her flying on a sword.

The only thing that could compare was back in his hometown's market town, when Ning Yao pressed two fingers together against her brow, as if opening a heavenly eye, threatening to unfold the world of Pearly Bead Cave Heaven. A trace of golden light seeped out, and she had nearly summoned her natal flying sword.

So Chen Ping'an decided to learn swordsmanship.

He would become a great Sword Immortal.

One day, on the southern city wall of the Sword Qi Great Wall, he would carve words.

Chen Ping'an took a deep breath, put away the Sword Nurturing Gourd, and tucked it at his waist. Lately, he hadn't been drinking at all.

Since he had decided to learn swordsmanship and already had a copy of the True Canon of Sword Arts, with the "Long Qi" that the old Sword Immortal had lent him strapped to his back, Chen Ping'an began to seriously consider this matter. It was even more solemn than when he first decided to practice one million punches of the Mountain Toppling Fist.

Chen Ping'an stood up, closed his eyes, and paced slowly around the table.

Sword cultivators use swords, and martial artists in the jianghu also use swords, but the difference between the two is vast.

Back when Wei Jin from the Snow Temple of Wind and Snow had led the donkey, he was a Jade Pure Realm Sword Immortal. The grace of his single sword strike was still fresh in Chen Ping'an's memory.

As for the Sword Saint Old Senior Song of Comb Water Nation, who had topped the jianghu of his country, or the Sword God of Colorful Garment Nation who had died at Ma Kuxuan's hands—no matter how high their sword techniques or how great their jianghu reputations, they could hardly contend with mountain qi refiners, especially sword cultivators.

Previously, Chen Ping'an had wanted to go to All Beings Continent to train because he'd heard that the sword techniques of jianghu swordsmen there were far superior to those in Vase Bottle Continent. There, swordsmen were as numerous as clouds. Even if they were pure martial artists from the mortal world, they could still hold their own against qi refiners.

To become a Sword Immortal, he first needed to become a sword cultivator, which required a Longevity Bridge. His old one couldn't be repaired, and even if it could, the achievements would be limited. So he had to build a new one. But how to start? He had to go to Parasol Leaf Continent to find the Daoist Temple of Cloud Contemplation on the East Sea, to look for an old Daoist whose name he didn't even know yet. Since that old Daoist was mentioned by the old Sword Immortal, he must be a quite remarkable old immortal. Whether he would see Chen Ping'an or not was another matter.

Chen Ping'an circled the table again and again. At one point, he unconsciously took down the Sword Nurturing Gourd and almost drank from it. Fortunately, the fragrant aroma of wine, intoxicating and heart-soothing, reminded him in time, and he quickly tucked it back at his waist.

The old Sword Immortal's "Long Qi" could point him in a general direction once he reached Parasol Leaf Continent. That was why Chen Ping'an had chosen to land in the central region of Parasol Leaf Continent, first determine north and south, and then follow the trail.

As Chen Ping'an pondered the details of his trip to Parasol Leaf Continent, a couple arrived at the Stork Inn, claiming to be old acquaintances looking for Chen Ping'an.

On Inverted Mountain, harming someone meant death. This rule was very effective. Though there were many profound secret methods that might circumvent it, once discovered, even decades or centuries-old cases, the Shidao Daoist of Inverted Mountain, or even the Flood Dragon True Lord himself, would personally intervene. Thus, Inverted Mountain remained a rare place of peace and tranquility.

The young innkeeper led the couple to the corridor outside Chen Ping'an's room, pointed the way, and didn't follow. The woman thanked him, and the young innkeeper smiled, saying it was his duty. But as he turned the corner, he inexplicably couldn't help glancing back. The couple had ordinary appearances and gentle temperaments, but the young innkeeper felt something was off. He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Restoring the Stork Inn to its ancestral glory was a long, heavy task. Every day, he had to personally attend to a host of trivial matters.

Outside Chen Ping'an's door, the man complained, "Why not just appear directly in this kid's room? Wouldn't that be simpler?"

The woman glared at him. "Where are your manners? Your daughter is already that kind of temperament. If you're like that too, and I follow suit, do you think Chen Ping'an is a clay Buddha that anyone can bully? Just because our daughter was lucky enough to find such a good boy, do you think everything is owed to you?"

The man grumbled, "You're the one who favors him the most! He found our precious daughter—isn't he the lucky one? If we had an ancestral hall, he should be burning a hundred sticks of high-quality incense and still not be grateful enough."

The woman was stubborn. Hearing this, she stopped her motion to knock and decided to argue it out with her husband properly, to prevent him from saying nonsense inside the room and making things worse. On Hao Ran World, people were not accustomed to the life-and-death culture of the Sword Qi Great Wall. Outside Inverted Mountain, words could wound, especially careless ones.

Her husband was rough and didn't care about such things, but she, as a woman, couldn't be indifferent.

The man quickly admitted fault, "Fine, fine, whatever you say."

The woman shot him a fierce glare. The man said helplessly, "I really know I'm wrong now."

Only then did she knock softly on the door and ask gently, "Chen Ping'an?"

Inside the room, Chen Ping'an immediately stopped pacing, nervous beyond measure, with sweat beading on his forehead. He quickly called out, "Wait a moment! I'll be right out."

A moment later, the youth opened the door.

He had changed clothes, putting on the golden dharma robe that, to those below Earth Immortal, appeared as a white robe.

He had finally taken off his unchanging straw sandals and replaced them with a new pair of white boots.

The "Long Qi" he had been carrying was now placed on the table, and the Sword Nurturing Gourd, along with the "Jiang Gourd" wine vessel, were nowhere to be seen—the youth had hidden them.

The woman and the man exchanged a glance and smiled.

It seemed he had guessed their true identities.

The couple stepped through the threshold. Chen Ping'an gently closed the door, then asked, "Would you like some tea?"

The woman sat down, smiled, and shook her head. Then she pointed to a stool and said, "Chen Ping'an, you sit too. Earlier at the Sword Worship Pavilion, we had to conceal our appearance out of necessity. Inverted Mountain isn't the Sword Qi Great Wall; it has its own rules. I hope you understand."

Chen Ping'an sat upright across the table, fists clenched on his knees, nodding vigorously.

The man looked askance at the extremely nervous youth. The more he looked, the more annoyed he became. So unrefined, so unsophisticated—how could this boy be worthy of his daughter?

Just then, the woman gave the man a sharp stomp on the foot. He had no choice but to fix his gaze on his nose and nose on his heart, leaving everything to the woman.

After the woman removed her illusion, the man did the same, revealing their true appearances.

The woman was stunningly beautiful; the man was handsome.

This was what a true immortal couple must look like.

Only then could they have a daughter as moving as Ning Yao.

The woman seemed to make a superfluous self-introduction. "You should already know—I'm Ning Yao's mother. He's her father. The two of us actually died in battle south of the Sword Qi Great Wall long ago, but our remnants of soul were preserved by the Great Old Sword Immortal. Though it goes against the customs of the Sword Qi Great Wall, since we're already dead, who cares about such things? We fought and killed our whole lives. To 'live' for ourselves once after death shouldn't be too much to ask, especially since Ning Yao was still young then..."

At this point, the woman couldn't continue.

The man had to take over her words. "The first time Ning Yao ran away from home, when she came back, we knew something was wrong..."

The woman gave a light cough.

The man had to change his wording. "We learned about you. At that time, our daughter hadn't figured things out yet. Later, when she knew you were coming to deliver a sword to Inverted Mountain, she would wait for you, every now and then."

Alone, sitting on that Dragon Beheading Platform.

It pained the man's heart to see.

The man hesitated, his expression far from warm. "Can you truly not let Ning Yao down? You should know that Ning Yao is very different from ordinary women, in every way."

Chen Ping'an, though sweating with nervousness, said seriously, "I've thought about it. The worst outcome is that Ning Yao might regret it later and come to like someone else. If that person treats her better than I do, I won't see Ning Yao again. But if Ning Yao always likes me, I will work hard. The next time we meet, I won't be a burden to her like this time. Whether she's in the northern cities, on the city walls of the Sword Qi Great Wall, or on battlefields further south, I will be by her side, doing my best to protect her."

Chen Ping'an's sweat blurred his vision. He quickly wiped it away and continued, "When it's not about fighting, just the two of us being together—if you like someone, you might think everything about them is good. But when you're together later, you have to learn to like their flaws. I understand this principle. When I was very young, my parents also quarreled, but they never did it in front of me. After an argument, my father would sulk in the yard, but by the next day, they'd be fine. Though I've always thought my parents were the best people in the world, no one in the world is truly perfect in every way. That can't be. But I will try to know what is right and wrong, what is good and bad, and then leave the best for Ning Yao."

The man was dumbfounded.

You've said it all, kid. What's left for me to say?

And how old are you, Chen Ping'an? How do you know all these principles?

The woman raised a hand, wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, and then said softly with a smile, "Chen Ping'an, your childhood was very hard, wasn't it?"

Chen Ping'an hesitated, then nodded, saying nothing.

But he held it in, held it for a long time, then his face crumpled again, the corners of his mouth pressing down. His voice trembled. "When my mother left, it was so bitter. I was too young then. There was so little I could do, and my mother still left."

Gathering herbs in the mountains, pawning things from home, cooking meals, carrying water, decocting medicine, secretly praying at the Immortal's Grave, putting a handful of wild fruit in the backpack, tucking her blanket in late at night, asking if she felt better today...

None of it worked. None of it.

But Chen Ping'an only said that one sentence, then said nothing more.

It was a verdict that negated himself.

Too young. Did too little.

The woman lowered her head, raised her sleeve again.

The man sighed.

Hardship—how many were there in the world? What was so special about it?

What child with a rough background lacked this?

But the strange thing was the word "enduring hardship"—how one endured it.

The sufferings of the world need not be spoken. They cannot be spoken.

The woman breathed out gently, lifted her head, and forced a smile. "Chen Ping'an, from now on, Ning Yao is in your care. If she does something wrong, you're the man; you must be forgiving."

Chen Ping'an's voice trembled. "Are you leaving now? If you leave, what will Ning Yao do alone?"

The woman stood up, smiled, and said, "Ning Yao knows. She knows everything. So you don't need to worry about this. I'm not saying this because I'm Ning Yao's mother, but because the girl you like, Chen Ping'an, is really a good person."

Chen Ping'an could only nod.

The woman turned to the man, who had also stood up. "Do you have something to say?"

The man nodded.

The woman understandingly said, "Then I'll wait for you outside?"

The man grunted in agreement. The woman walked out of the room and stood at the corner of the corridor.

The man looked at the youth and said solemnly, "Chen Ping'an!"

The man, who had been lukewarm toward Chen Ping'an until now, suddenly broke into a smile. He walked around the table, placed his broad palm heavily on the youth's shoulder, then withdrew his hand and stepped back. Still raising his palm, he faced it toward Chen Ping'an.

Chen Ping'an was startled for a moment, then quickly extended his hand. Their palms clapped together.

The man firmly grasped the youth's hand. "Chen Ping'an, from now on, my daughter, Ning Yao, is in your care! Can you take good care of her?"

Chen Ping'an choked out loudly, "Even if it kills me!"

The man released his hand and laughed. "What's this about death? Both of you live well."

The man looked Chen Ping'an up and down, satisfied. "Mm, worthy of my daughter."

He turned and strode toward the door. Chen Ping'an wanted to see him off, but the man raised a hand, signaling him not to follow.

The man never turned around. As he walked slowly to the door, he said with a smile, "Next time you're at the Sword Qi Great Wall, have Ning Yao take you to our graves. Offer us a toast and tell us you're safe."

After crossing the threshold, the man suddenly turned his head and laughed, "What's wrong with drinking? Why hide the wine gourd? The most carefree Sword Immortals in the world all love to drink."

The man thrust out his fist, thumb pointing at himself. "Like your father-in-law here!"

Chen Ping'an stood rooted to the spot.

At the Incense Tower ferry, one Treasure-Swallowing Whale ferry to Parasol Leaf Continent would depart today.

Before heading to the ferry, Chen Ping'an first went to the foot of Lone Peak Mountain. Since he didn't have an Inverted Mountain entry jade token, he only looked at that gate from afar outside the railing. His lips moved slightly, as if talking to himself.

The sword-carrying man sitting on the hitching post was still dozing in broad daylight, but he murmured three words again. Compared to the first time, he had changed the word "near" to "far."

When the youth approached this gate, he was sword qi near.

When the youth left Inverted Mountain, he was sword qi far.

Today, the youth from Mud Vase Alley was clad in a robe of purest white, a longsword on his back, a Sword Nurturing Gourd at his waist, with an elegant bearing.

The youth, pure of heart, was the most moving of all.