Chapter 307: Beneath Eyes and Feet
Knowing that his master had died, the little novice wept bitterly, unable to see past it or let it go, not at all like a person who had left the householder life. But when Chen Ping'an watched that little bald head wailing loudly, vigorously shaking the old monk's arm as if trying to wake him from a dream, Chen Ping'an felt that this, right here, was only human.
Later, when he learned that after his master's complete cessation, he had actually burned out the relics spoken of in the sutras, the little novice laughed again, thinking that his master's buddhadharma was probably still somewhat formidable. The little novice still didn't resemble a person who had left the householder life.
Chen Ping'an had been helping the temple handle the old monk's funeral arrangements, bustling about busily. Privately, he spoke to the new abbot of Heart-Mind Temple, conveying the old monk's thoughts: the matter of the relics should not be hastily proclaimed to the outside world, lest at this moment it needlessly invite criticism from the marketplace, and possibly even arouse suspicion from the government. The new abbot had no objection to this. He lowered his head and pressed his palms together toward Chen Ping'an to express his thanks.
After that, Chen Ping'an no longer went to Heart-Mind Temple to sit in meditation. But he had told the new abbot that if Heart-Mind Temple had any difficulties, he could inform him at his residence, and Chen Ping'an would help as much as he could.
The middle-aged monk chanted a Buddha's name. After Chen Ping'an left, he went to the Buddha shrine in the main hall, silently lit an eternal lamp for this kind benefactor, and called over the little novice, instructing him to tend to this lotus lamp regularly.
The little novice said "Oh" and nodded in agreement. The monk, knowing the little fellow had agreed too quickly and would surely slack off, flicked his finger lightly on that little bald head, scolding him with the lesson: "Muyu, take this matter to heart." The little novice grimaced and said "Oh" again. Whether he actually remembered the matter was hard to say, but in any case, he already knew the taste of the consequences of not remembering.
After the abbot senior brother left the main hall, the little novice sighed. His senior brother used to be so kind, but after becoming abbot, he was just like Master—no regard for feelings. In the future, even if he could become abbot, he wouldn't want to, otherwise he would surely hurt his junior brother's feelings... Eh? He himself was Master's youngest disciple. Where would a junior brother come from? There wouldn't be any in the future. That was too unfair! Thinking this, the little novice whirled around and quickly ran out of the main hall, catching up to the senior brother, eagerly asking when the senior brother would take on disciples.
The abbot monk knew the little novice's little schemes and didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He made as if to use the little novice's head as a wooden fish again. After all, his dharma name was literally Muyu.
The little novice let out a mournful sigh, turned, and ran off.
Chen Ping'an, whose state of mind was tending toward tranquility, was very strange. He still had not picked up the *Fist Canon* or the *Proper Swordplay Manual* again. Instead, he continued to wander through the capital. This time, carrying a small cloth bundle on his back, he walked slowly, eating dry flatbread washed down with wine, with no fixed abode. He would just find some quiet spot to make do—under a tree's shade, on a rooftop, beside a small bridge over flowing water.
Those tall crimson walls, with greenery peeping over the high walls, the sound of swings swinging and laughter within the walls.
There were scholars and literati in tall hats and wide sashes, floating wine cups along winding streams, composing rhapsodies in this age of peace, words flowing from their mouths as if already written.
At that time, a figure in white sat silently on a tree branch, drinking wine.
There was a tavern by the water, filled to the rafters with distinguished guests, all talented youths of the Southern Garden Kingdom's capital, pointing at the nation's affairs, criticizing current politics. Scholars governing the country—it was only natural. Chen Ping'an sat on the tavern's rooftop, carefully listening to their discussions. Full of passionate blood, they hated evil as if it were their personal enemy. But Chen Ping'an felt that those governance policies they spoke of, if put into practice, would be a bit difficult. However, it was also possible that these young talents were drunk and hadn't elaborated in detail.
Two groups of local ruffians had arranged to fight each other, each side about three or four dozen men. Perhaps this was their *jianghu*—they walked the rivers and lakes, roamed the rivers and lakes. Chen Ping'an crouched on a dilapidated low wall in the distance, observing. He found that "old-timers" over twenty years old fought slickly, while the youths under twenty fought recklessly and with extreme ruthlessness. Afterwards, faces bruised and swollen, covered in blood, they slung arms around the shoulders of their brothers in hardship, already looking forward to the next *jianghu* feud.
The leading big brother of one group, somewhat older, nearly thirty, called out to them to go drink at a tavern. They marched off noisily. The pretty-faced wine-selling woman was his wife. Seeing these familiar faces, she had to squeeze out a smile and bring out wine and food to entertain her man's brothers. Watching her man, who was holding forth in the center of the crowd, a hint of worry showed in her brows about making a living, but there was also a bright light of admiration in her eyes.
She looked at her man, while the tall youth who was her man's most capable and boldest fighter secretly looked at her.
Chen Ping'an sat in the farthest spot, ordering two jugs of wine—one poured into his Sword-Nurturing Gourd, the other to drink then and there.
The young woman gritted her teeth and quoted a higher price for the two jugs, overcharging this gentleman by thirty coppers. Luckily, the man seemed unaware of market prices and paid without hesitation. Feeling a bit guilty, she added two extra plates of appetizers she had made herself. The man stood up and smiled his thanks to her.
The woman blushed, quickly twisted her waist, and turned away, not daring to look at that handsome, clean face again.
At the crowded table over there, the nearly-thirty-year-old man, emboldened by drink, told his brothers that one day they would have a real territory in the capital. Then everyone would drink and eat meat; when they saw waist-sword-carrying yamen officials, they wouldn't need to be afraid. Those officials would surely be begging to call them brothers. And later, when they asked Scholar Ma, who looked down on them, for a few Spring Festival couplets and lucky characters, let's see if he still dared to look at them sidelong, if he had the guts to say no...
The man's tongue was tangled. The listeners were enraptured, cheering loudly, spittle flying everywhere.
Especially the hot-blooded youths—they drank, vomited, and drank again. Returning to the table, seeing brothers all around through drunken eyes, they felt that life lived like this was exhilarating, so exhilarating!
Chen Ping'an silently left the street-side tavern. After walking a distance, he couldn't help looking back once. It was like seeing his younger self, Liu Xianyang, and the snot-nosed Gu Can, all sitting back there. The kiln apprentice, dark as charcoal back then, would probably be feeling pain over the cost of the wine. Liu Xianyang, after declaring his grand ambitions, would definitely start worrying, complaining why Zhigui never liked him. Gu Can, who matured early, would probably grind his teeth and, imitating the tone of *jianghu* folk, say that to avenge a grievance, one must swiftly settle hatred, and to hell with everything else.
Chen Ping'an withdrew his gaze and continued walking.
A sharp-eyed youth joked, "That pretty boy just now stopped and stared at us for a long time. Could he be eyeing our sister-in-law?"
The already drunk man slammed the table and said, "If he has that dog's courage, I'll chop him to death! Believe it or not, even if I die tomorrow, your sister-in-law will be a widow for life and never marry anyone! Not even the Emperor! A tender-skinned pretty boy is nothing. So what if he carries a sword..."
As he spoke, his head dropped and thudded heavily onto the table, completely drunk.
The young woman lowered her head to wipe the table, secretly pursing her lips, not knowing why she smiled.
The tall youth, whose gaze often swept over the woman's graceful figure, also lowered his head now, somewhat flustered and resentful. He took a sip of wine—tasteless.
A haggard woman from the marketplace, for some unknown reason, caught a mischievous child and spanked him soundly. The child howled loudly but was actually making faces at his nearby friends. As the shabbily dressed woman spanked him, she started crying herself. The child was stunned, then genuinely began to cry.
After a torrential rainstorm, the capital finally saw the warm sun again. A group of rich, pampered youths galloped their horses down the main street, cracking whips and urging their mounts on, splashing mud everywhere. An old woman's stall by the roadside, unable to be moved in time, was covered in cheaply made knitted goods. They were splattered with mud, looking utterly ruined. Her face turned pale. At the tail end of the riders was a young woman with arrogant brows. Seeing this, she didn't stop her horse but casually tossed a money pouch onto the stall. However, since her riding skills weren't very polished and she was too focused on throwing the heavy pouch accurately, she accidentally fell off her horse in a tumble. After a good roll on the ground, she got up moaning. Her once pretty face and expensive dress were now a mess.
The woman staggered to the stopped horse, climbed back on with some difficulty, and cracked her whip away.
Covered in mud, she held her head high, and from the corner of her eye caught a swordsman in a pure white robe standing at the roadside looking at her. She couldn't help turning her head.
The man raised his arm and gave her a thumbs up.
The woman rolled her eyes and didn't take it to heart.
Chen Ping'an traveled like this, stopping and going, observing much of the literati's romantic elegance and the marketplace's myriad states.
The farce of White River Temple lasted less than ten days before it quickly drew to a close. The imperial court had already rendered its final verdict. Hardly any monks of White River Temple remained. Apart from the few chief culprits executed by beheading, the rest were imprisoned or expelled. White River Temple's properties were all confiscated. As to who would take over this hot potato, some said it would be eminent monks from the other three major temples in the capital, others said abbots from several famous large temples in the countryside.
Obviously, the Southern Garden Kingdom had a sage advising His Majesty. The White River Temple scandal was swiftly choked off and silenced. The attention of the court and the commoners quickly shifted to another grand event. The head of Lake Mountain Sect, Yu Zhenyi, one of the world's four Grandmasters, had emerged from ten years of seclusion after a successful breakthrough. He convened a Martial Arts Convention, summoning the heroes to discuss the encirclement and suppression of the three gates of the demonic sect.
At that time, Zhong Qiu, the Southern Garden Kingdom's National Teacher, hailed as the "First Hand Under Heaven," Tong Qingqing of Mirror-Heart Studio, and Lu Fang, the master of Bird's-Eye Peak, who was said to be able to nurture sword intent within mountain mist and cloud seas, would all appear. The four Grandmasters gathering at Oxen Mountain, adjacent to the capital of the Southern Garden Kingdom, was a great phenomenon unseen in the *jianghu* for a hundred years.
These four were each the martial arts overlords of their respective nations. A single stomp of their feet could stir up monstrous waves in a country's *jianghu*. Especially the enmity between the Southern Garden Kingdom's National Teacher Zhong Qiu and Song Lai Kingdom's Yu Zhenyi, which had entangled them for a full sixty years. The two were both commoners from Song Lai Kingdom, neighbors since childhood, sworn brothers in life and death. By chance, they began walking the *jianghu* together, each encountering their own fortunes, becoming the most eye-catching pair of martial arts prodigies of the time. Eventually, for unknown reasons, they turned against each other. After a life-and-death battle witnessed by only a few people, both were severely wounded. Zhong Qiu then came to the Southern Garden Kingdom. After that, they lived and died without further contact, speaking neither of kindness nor of grudges.
In the twilight, Chen Ping'an returned to the residence near Champion Lane. Before that, there were still a bunch of people playing chess at the street corner, with a grandfather and grandson watching others play. Upon seeing Chen Ping'an's figure, the child's face went pale. He quickly stood up and invited Chen Ping'an to watch chess. Chen Ping'an approached and watched for a while. The child then said he had something to do at home and ran off. Chen Ping'an hesitated. Not really in the mood for chess, he stood there for the time it takes an incense stick to burn, then slowly walked back to the residence.
He opened the door and entered. Across the way, the child, standing on a small stool, looked through the window at Chen Ping'an and breathed a slight sigh of relief.
Chen Ping'an closed the door, took off his bundle and placed it on the bed. The little lotus figure immediately sprang up from the ground, babbling and pointing, as if extremely angry.
Chen Ping'an glanced at the stack of books on the table. Some subtle wrinkles, barely noticeable, were more numerous than when he had left the residence. He understood in his heart. He crouched down, spread his palm, and let the little thing walk onto his hand. Then he stood up and sat by the table. The little lotus figure jumped onto the table. This little thing, which didn't attract dust, lightly jumped onto the mountain of books, knelt on the title page of a sage's book, and carefully smoothed out the wrinkles with its little arms.
Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "It's okay. Books are meant to be read. They've already returned it, haven't they? No need to be angry."
The little thing, busy working, turned its head, blinked its eyes, somewhat confused.
Chen Ping'an rubbed its little head, took out the bamboo slips and carving knife, and gently placed them on the table.
In the night, Chen Ping'an quietly went to White River Temple. He had burned incense here before, so he was no stranger to it. White River Temple had a great hall that was very peculiar, enshrining three Buddha statues: one with glaring eyes, one with downcast eyes, and one in the center that sat facing backward. For a thousand years, no matter how much incense smoke had permeated it, the statue had always faced away from the door and the worshippers.
White River Temple had been somewhat desolate lately. Even during the day, the door was as quiet as a deserted place. At the dead of night, it was even more lonely. Coupled with the terrifying rumors that spread through word of mouth, the usually solemn and majestic Bodhisattva and Guardian King statues now looked eerie and sinister no matter how you looked at them. A few days ago, a group of petty thieves came to try their luck. They all ran out howling, completely insane, and only calmed down after being thrown into jail. They just said that White River Temple was haunted and absolutely not to be gone to.
Before entering this side hall whose door wasn't closed, Chen Ping'an deliberately lit a Yang-Filled Lantern-Looking Talisman. There was nothing unusual. He quietly changed positions a few times within the temple grounds, and the talisman continued to burn evenly and slowly.
Chen Ping'an was about to leave White River Temple. He had just reached near the entrance of the hall when he suddenly retreated backward. With a single tap of his toes, he was next seated on a crossbeam of the great hall. He lay on his side, holding his breath and concentrating his spirit.
Three people swaggered in from outside the great hall, not looking like thieves at all, but rather like high officials and nobles enjoying the moonlight scenery.
Chen Ping'an frowned. He recognized two of them. They were the same martial arts peers from that quiet residence on Champion Lane. The old man was tall in stature, with a gaunt and handsome face. Although not a Daoist, he wore an ancient-styled silver lotus crown on his head. Compared to Chen Ping'an's distant gaze from the marketplace street that time, tonight the old man was no longer deliberately restraining his aura. When he crossed the threshold, it was like a towering mountain range forcefully crashing into this great hall of White River Temple.
The woman took off the veiled hat that concealed her face. Her features were striking. She removed the trailing cloak that enveloped her figure, revealing a gorgeous color of clothing. The most unusual thing was that she wore wooden clogs on her bare feet, white as frost and snow.
A handsome young man was a new face. His stature was slender, dressed in a wide-sleeved robe of dark blue. A string of coral prayer beads was wound around his hand, which he gently rolled as he walked.
The woman had a crisp voice, not with the capital accent of the Southern Garden Kingdom. She gave a charming glance at that young gentleman and teased, "Oh, my Flower-Crown Gentleman, since you sincerely believe in Buddhism, why don't you kneel and kowtow? When I stand in front of that Buddha statue, taking such a big advantage over you, Master Zhou, wouldn't I become famous overnight? I'd die without regret."
The young gentleman smiled without speaking, just looking up at the three statues.
The world was vast and empty. In the spacious Buddha hall, only the faint sound of the beads rolling could be heard.
The old man laughed and said, "Ya'er, stop teasing Zhou Shi. That's him being good-natured and not bothering with you. If you tear face and fight, who would pay for Zhou Shi's coffin then?"
The woman, who looked like a young girl but had the charm and temperament of a mature woman, "Ya'er," covered her mouth and laughed coquettishly. Her eyes rippled with charm, and her allure poured out, making the otherwise gloomy and frightening hall seem somewhat spring-like.
The young man named Zhou Shi, nicknamed "Flower-Crown Gentleman," smiled helplessly and said, "Old Sect Master Ding, don't bully a junior like me."
"Yu Zhenyi of Lake Mountain Sect, Zhong Qiu of this Southern Garden Kingdom, Tong Qingqing of Mirror-Heart Pavilion, Lu Fang of Bird's-Eye Peak—they are all remarkable divine beings. Tong Qingqing, that old woman, is even of the same generation as Grandmaster. Look at us—we are few and weak. Do we really want to pull this chestnut out of the fire? Even if we get the Arhat's golden body and that scripture, can we leave the Southern Garden Kingdom's capital alive?"
The woman counted on her fingers, naming each one, revealing the most heavily veiled secrets of this *jianghu*. "Although Grandmaster, you are the true number one under heaven, a good man can't fight four hands. Yu Zhenyi has so many disciples and grand-disciples. Zhong Qiu of Southern Garden Kingdom is a local snake. Tong Qingqing, that old witch, loves to seduce people. Maybe last time, Flower-Crown Gentleman returned injured, saying she beat him half to death, but actually he was bewitched by the old witch's charms, putting on a bitter-meat act with us. Especially that Lu Fang. In decades, he's only acted a handful of times. The *jianghu* says he is Grandmaster who has taken the righteous path. From that, you can see how talented he must be. After so many years of concentrated sword training, he might have already surpassed Yu Zhenyi and Zhong Qiu, right?"
The old man ignored her, silent, hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the statue facing away from all beings.
The woman stamped her foot, somewhat petulant.
The wooden clogs striking the stone slabs made a crisp sound.
Zhou Shi spoke to comfort the woman. "These four are not a monolithic block. When it truly comes to life or death, probably no one would be willing to sacrifice themselves for righteousness."
The woman laughed. "So among us, someone would be willing?"
Zhou Shi's expression was calm as he continued, "Actually, just my father, plus Arm Sage Cheng Yuanshan and Knife-Grinder Liu Zong, in terms of top-tier combat power, are already not inferior to the combined strength of these four Grandmasters. Our operation this time is secret, not a pitched battle on the battlefield where numbers matter most. Ya'er, you don't need to worry."
In fact, the four Grandmasters were merely a self-proclaimed designation by the righteous path in the *jianghu*, deliberately excluding the demonic sect members and underworld chieftains. It was a case of shutting the door and enjoying themselves. The truly authoritative ranking was the more substantive Top Ten Experts.
Exactly five each from the righteous and evil paths.
Each of the four Grandmasters naturally occupied one spot.
Yu Zhenyi, who had transitioned from martial arts to Daoist cultivation, was the leading figure on the righteous path. Ranked second.
Zhong Qiu, the world's foremost external arts practitioner. Ranked sixth.
Tong Qingqing, rumored to be ninety years old yet retaining her youth. It was said that after her, several so-called number-one beauties, even combined in looks and charm, couldn't compare to her alone. Ranked ninth.
Lu Fang, the swordsman living in seclusion on Bird's-Eye Peak, was the youngest of the four Grandmasters, still under fifty. Ranked tenth. However, over time, almost everyone believed that Lu Fang, who had been at the bottom of the list twenty years ago, was the most qualified to challenge and defeat the number one.
Some even believed that Lu Fang had already surpassed Zhong Qiu, the National Teacher of Southern Garden Kingdom, and entered the top five.
As for the Arm Sage Cheng Yuanshan mentioned by Flower-Crown Gentleman Zhou Shi, his martial arts were extremely high, and when facing enemies, he always decided between life and death. Thus, he wasn't recognized by the orthodox sects, who felt his martial virtue was too poor to deserve the title of Grandmaster. This man was ranked eighth.
Knife-Grinder Liu Zong was a true top-tier evil path expert. His pure love of killing made him infamous. Ranked seventh.
As for Zhou Shi's father, Zhou Fei, he was a great demon that countless righteous people dreamt of hacking into eight pieces. His martial arts were exceptionally high, his conduct extremely base. He founded Spring Tide Palace, gathering beauties from all over. Apart from his few sons, among the hundreds in Spring Tide Palace, there wasn't a single other man. Zhou Fei therefore called himself "Mountain Emperor, Land Immortal."
But despite the helplessness, Zhou Fei was ranked fourth, and was universally acknowledged as number one in external hardness arts. In his youth, Lu Fang, with his sword "Dragon Coils the Beam," had successfully pierced Zhou Fei's body three times, yet Zhou Fei remained unharmed, with almost negligible loss of combat power. Lu Fang then retreated of his own accord.
Lu Fang, who had single-handedly charged into Spring Tide Palace, paid a heavy price for his impetuousness. During a three-year journey abroad, his entire sect of six hundred people was slowly tortured to death by Zhou Fei, who showed no regard for expert conduct. It was rumored that Lu Fang's master's wife and over ten senior and junior sisters were still serving as maids in Spring Tide Palace.
As to why Lu Fang, upon returning from his travels and hearing the tragic news, did not climb the mountain again to challenge Zhou Fei, this became one of the greatest *jianghu* secrets under heaven. Along with how strong that number one great demon truly was, how beautiful Tong Qingqing of Mirror-Heart Pavilion really was, and how many years Yu Zhenyi could live, these were known as the Four Great Unsolved Mysteries under Heaven.
From the Southern Garden Kingdom's capital to Oxen Mountain outside the city, along this line, everything was shrouded in sinister intrigue.
A middle-aged man who had traveled ten thousand miles, carrying a smell of alcohol, entered the Southern Garden Kingdom's capital like a fish in water. He spent his days drinking heavily in street-side taverns, muddled and confused. Eventually, he had to pawn his sword at the tavern for five taels of silver. That was only because the landlady, seeing his muscular build, could sneak a few touches while he slept; otherwise, three taels at most.
At the top of Oxen Mountain, a figure with the stature of a child and a pure-faced demeanor spent his idle days carefully polishing a jade-bamboo folding fan. The Southern Garden Kingdom's military officer in charge of the eight hundred Imperial Guards at the foot of the mountain, upon seeing this person, had to respectfully address him as "Venerable Yu."
At the Crown Prince's mansion, a stooped old man who had served as the head cook for many years uncovered a large vat of pickled vegetables that weren't yet ready. The sour smell assailed his nose. He muttered under his breath, "Troubled autumn, troubled autumn."
But without a doubt, the three people who entered White River Temple tonight without burning incense carried the greatest weight.
It had little to do with the woman and Flower-Crown Gentleman Zhou Shi. Because the old man's surname was Ding. For eighty years, he had stood firm in the position of number one under heaven. He killed purely based on his personal likes and moods—famous *jianghu* veterans, emperors and generals, heinous martial arts villains, even old and young commoners by the roadside. Later, he passed the position of sect master to his sole surviving disciple, whom he had killed down to one, and then disappeared.
But in the twenty-year evaluations after his departure from the *jianghu*, he was still the undisputed number one.
There was a seemingly ridiculous *jianghu* rumor. The Pavilion of Respectful Admiration, which specialized in collecting *jianghu* secrets and evaluating Grandmaster rankings, had two successive masters. Close friends had curiously asked why they didn't remove that Great Demon Ding, whose life or death was unknown. Both had said the same thing: "If he hasn't died, then I would die."
Now, in the great hall, the woman laughed and asked, "Your father only wants that Fairy Zhou as a beauty, yet he's ostensibly putting in the most effort. Such a big operation—doesn't he feel it's a loss?"
Zhou Shi smiled bitterly. "You know my father's temperament well enough. To put it nicely, he loves beauty more than the kingdom. To put it bluntly, he loses his life over lust. If Zhong Qiu weren't living right next to the Southern Garden Kingdom's palace, he'd probably go into the palace and snatch Empress Fan."
The woman rubbed her cheeks, self-pityingly. "Zhou Shuzhen, Fan Wan'er. One is the current number-one beauty, the other was the most beautiful in the world twenty years ago. Your father's standards are truly high. No wonder it's hard to catch his eye. Even when meeting them, drinking tea together, he's still polite and respectful, not looking sideways."
Zhou Shi smiled bitterly.
The woman laughed and asked, "Why doesn't your father have any thoughts about Tong Qingqing?"
Zhou Shi looked up at the majestic statue with glaring eyes glaring at the human world. His fingers kept rolling the beads. He said softly, "My father said that a delicacy that scalds the mouth isn't worth fearing. Even getting blisters is worth it. But a delicacy that is sure to burn through your stomach and intestines—no matter how much your mouth waters, don't go near it."
The old man standing with hands behind his back, upon hearing this, twitched the corners of his mouth. He looked around and said softly, "Let's go. The golden body is no longer here."
The stunning woman and Zhou Shi had no objection, nor did they dare to show any doubt. Though the woman kept calling him "Grandmaster" affectionately and intimately, she was actually terrified, afraid that if she let her guard down for a moment, the old man would smash her head. Zhou Shi was not much better. A father like Zhou Fei was at most a talisman that may or may not work, far from a true life-preserving charm.
The old man, whose every move seemed to resonate with heaven and earth, paused slightly as he stepped across the threshold.
Just this inconspicuous little action made the woman and Zhou Shi's energy and blood chaotic, their chests tight, sweat oozing from their foreheads. They halted, standing still.
The old man then slightly quickened his pace, crossed the threshold, and walked down the steps.
The two young martial arts geniuses, who had already won great fame in the *jianghu*, felt their energy and blood racing again, as if they were marionettes. They couldn't help but follow the old man's quickened pace.
The old man looked up at the moonlight and laughed. "This Southern Garden Kingdom capital is much more interesting than it was sixty years ago."
The two behind him exchanged glances, both feeling there was profound meaning in his words.
The night was cool as water.
Chen Ping'an changed from lying to sitting. First, he pressed his palms together and apologized to the three Buddha statues, asking them not to blame him for his disrespect.
That old man surnamed Ding was quite formidable.
Chen Ping'an suddenly lay on his side again. Soon, two figures drifted in like faint smoke, arriving in a flash.
What a pair of golden boy and jade girl. At this moment, the woman's beauty and bearing were even superior to the woman wearing wooden clogs.
The man was a little over thirty, elegant and refined, dressed in ancient-style robes and a crown, exuding the noble air of imperial royalty.
He spoke in pure capital accent, laughing, "Fairy Fan, as you said earlier, that old demon Ding's temperament is indeed strange. He clearly spotted us two just now, yet he didn't even make a move."
The ethereal and otherworldly woman was like an orchid growing wild in the mountains. Her beauty was unreasonably outstanding. An average beauty seeing her for the first time would probably feel ashamed of her own appearance. An average man wouldn't even dare to feel desire; he would need self-awareness.
Upon hearing the man's words, she said, "This old sect master simply disdains to make a move against us."
The man laughed. "Couldn't I not even block one move? That's unlikely. My master is at least among the small group closest behind those ten. When I spar with my master now, I already have a two or three-tenths chance of winning."
The woman shook her head. "Your Highness the Crown Prince is naturally extremely talented. But the life-and-death fights between *jianghu* Grandmasters are as different as heaven and earth from martial arts sparring. Your Highness, never underestimate this *jianghu*. Even when facing a second-rate expert, don't let your guard down until the very last moment."
The man felt genuine joy that this fairy was worried about him. But being born into an imperial family, he had long cultivated the habit of not showing joy or anger on his face. He nodded slightly and said with a smile, "I'll remember that. In the future, before fighting anyone, I'll ponder your words well and not make a move too hastily."
The woman named Fan smiled faintly, not commenting on that.
She saw through the man's subtle flirting, but having walked the *jianghu* independently for six years, she wouldn't pay it any mind, and certainly wouldn't be moved.
She suddenly said coldly, "Come out!"
The man's expression changed slightly. His heart lake rippled. To be able to hide until now without being discovered meant at least a person of equal strength to them.
Together with the woman, he scanned every corner of the hall.
After a moment, Fairy Fan relaxed and laughed. "I've made a fool of myself before Your Highness. Walking the *jianghu*, one must always be cautious—it's the safe way that lasts ten thousand years."
The man was relieved and couldn't help laughing. He slightly turned his body and, imitating a *jianghu* person, cupped his fist and saluted. "Fairy's instruction, this young student is taught."
The woman laughed as well.
Afterward, the two groped around the three Buddha statues, looking for hidden mechanisms, but found nothing. Their efforts were in vain, so like the three before them, they left White River Temple.
On a crossbeam, ripples rippled layer by layer, gradually revealing a patch of white. It was Chen Ping'an's Golden Nectar Daoist Robe, which had expanded greatly, allowing him to curl up inside. It was a kind of unrefined eye-concealing technique that Chen Ping'an had figured out on his own. Quite useful against *jianghu* people, just not very expert-like or immortal-style.
Chen Ping'an sat on the crossbeam and was about to take a drink from his Sword-Nurturing Gourd, but then remembered this was a temple hall. He withdrew his hand, drifted silently down, and was about to leave White River Temple.
As soon as he reached the threshold of the hall, he saw that beautiful woman surnamed Fan in the distance, looking at him coldly.
Chen Ping'an stopped.
The woman neither spoke nor attacked, just stared at Chen Ping'an.
Chen Ping'an was a bit exasperated.
Miss, what are you staring at? I already have a girl I like.
She is prettier than you! At least, that's what I, Chen Ping'an, think.
But Chen Ping'an grinned. Actually, this young lady in front of him was quite good-looking.
But miss, you being pretty is your own business. That's no reason for you to stare at me stupidly, right?
Chen Ping'an didn't want to waste time with her anymore. Fearing that flying over rooftops might not make it easy to escape, he simply used a Square-Inch Talisman to leave White River Temple directly.
The woman's mouth fell open slightly. Her face was full of shock. Could he be some senior Grandmaster from the *jianghu* who had been living in seclusion?
Not long after Chen Ping'an left White River Temple, his gaze was caught by a lively street lined with a cascade of colorful lanterns. The aroma was strong, so he went to find a stall and ate something that was spicy, numbing, and hot.
Then Chen Ping'an found himself standing next to a stunningly beautiful young woman with an expression of utter shock.