Chapter 365: Whether to Listen or Not to Reason, the Sword Remains

Chapter 365: Whether to Listen or Not to Reason, the Sword Remains

Below the sea of clouds, west of the Ascending Dragon Platform, north of the ferry crossing's lonely island, the entire Old Dragon City had fallen into a state where the river of time had come to an abrupt halt.

When Fan Junmao saw that snowy-white figure like a rainbow falling to the ground, his face was filled with endless nostalgia and recollection, and in the end, hot tears welled up in his eyes. He stood up, wanted to speak but stopped, then assumed a historically profound "seated posture," sitting upright and proper upon the sea of clouds. Later generations of Confucian gentlemen, who emphasized sitting straight and solemn like a corpse or a deity, were exactly like this.

Over at the Dust Herb Apothecary, Pei Qian was wielding the Mountain Walking Staff in the alley outside the shop, madly executing her swordsmanship technique, completely oblivious to the celestial anomaly. Master Zhao's yin spirit on the threshold had become utterly motionless.

In the outer city, there was a short, wealthy old man. Just as he was about to step out, he frowned, withdrew his foot, and remained still, only moving his eyeballs as he pondered slightly. Then, in an even more concealed manner, he sent his yin spirit on a distant journey, sneaky yet as if a fish in water.

Outside the east gate of Old Dragon City, the teaching matron of the Yunlin Jiang Clan had a face flushed red. Her lifespan flying sword hummed and trembled within her acupoints, allowing her to barely make out some blurry images.

The Zhongxing Ancestor of the Tongye Sect, surnamed Du, squinted as he looked toward the breach in the city wall. His lifespan celestial treasure, the Sword-Swallowing Boat, hovered silently at his side.

Within the "doorway" that had been forcibly smashed into the city wall, a tall woman in white robes with fluttering wide sleeves sat on a pile of rubble. With gentle movements, she held in her arms a young man whose golden liquor treasure artifact was nearly shattered. He was too severely injured and had already fallen into a deathlike coma. She lowered her head and extended a finger to gently smooth the furrowed brow of the young man.

Not far away stood an old Confucian scholar in shabby blue robes, raising a hand to wipe his forehead. "You were too reckless, making such a huge commotion. Do you know that just to conceal your whereabouts, I used up every ounce of strength I had? If not for the fact that the Suishan Grand Spirit was somewhat honorable and let me jump directly to the northern part of Bottle Gourd Continent, by now the whole world would know about you. How could Chen Ping'an still cultivate in peace?"

Seeing that the woman did not respond, the old scholar grew even more uneasy. He sighed mournfully, not even looking at the second-ranked immortal of the Tongye Continent's map. He approached the edge of the wall, suppressing the anger in his heart. "What's this? Since you two are so fond of watching the spectacle, why don't you even dare to show your faces?"

To the north, an ethereal figure appeared, vaguely discernible as a middle-aged Confucian scholar. At his waist hung a golden jade pendant, inscribed with the seal-script characters: "I Nurture the Righteous Qi."

To the south was another similarly elusive Confucian scholar, but he looked to be about seventy years old, also wearing a golden jade pendant at his waist, inscribed with: "The Virtuous Have Many Allies."

The middle-aged Confucian scholar made a deep bow. "Greetings, Master."

The septuagenarian Confucian scholar actually looked at the old Literary Sage scholar as if he were unfeeling, not even twitching an eyelid.

The old scholar took a deep breath. He pointed to the Zhongxing Ancestor of the Tongye Sect and looked at the old Confucian scholar with the "The Virtuous Have Many Allies" pendant, asking, "You, who are the sage responsible for overseeing the northern part of Tongye Continent—if a tenth or eleventh realm qi refiner travels the world, you can claim that human affairs are too numerous and the countless lights of ten thousand households below are beyond your reach from the heavens. But a Flying Ascension realm qi refiner—are your eyes blind? A great lantern floating past your eyes, and you still couldn't see it?"

The septuagenarian Confucian scholar remained silent.

The middle-aged Confucian scholar sighed. He had actually been given a heads-up beforehand, that Du Mao of the Tongye Sect would descend the mountain and come to Old Dragon City in Bottle Gourd Continent, which was within his jurisdiction. It was part of the Great Li Song Clan's schemes in the north, and also involved the inner turmoil of the Fu Ji Sect and the Taiping Mountain demon tribe. So before leaving the sect, Du Mao had already filed a report and archived it with the septuagenarian Confucian scholar. But it had been too sudden, leaving no time to request a clearance permit from the academy. Thus, the middle-aged Confucian scholar had turned a blind eye.

The restrictions on these Flying Ascension realm grand cultivators were an iron rule established by the Ritual Sage. Over the years, there had been backlash, and some grand cultivators had even openly ridiculed the Ritual Sage, saying that he was truly benevolent. The Righteous World had raised so many demon tribes without wiping them out completely, leaving roots to foster future troubles, yet imposing strict rules on their own people. If they wanted to stretch an arm or leg, they needed the academy's approval. Look at the Qingming World, where the three Daoist lineages held sway—a Flying Ascension cultivator could stay in the White Jade Capital as long as they wished, or wander the world freely when bored. Why was it that only in the Righteous World, even sneezing required following rules?

Du Mao of the Tongye Sect was getting impatient. With one hand behind his back and the other scratching his head, he looked up at the old scholar. "So you're the Literary Sage?"

The old scholar completely ignored him from start to finish. Instead, he spoke to the two Confucian sages who were among the seventy-two attendants in the Confucian temple, seated in the heavens. "You two are both proud disciples of Old Third. You are sages. Old Third should have taught you, and you should remember: compassion is inherent in all people."

"The sense of shame and aversion to evil is inherent in all people!"

The former was directed at the middle-aged Confucian scholar stationed in the southern part of Bottle Gourd Continent.

The latter was directed at the septuagenarian Confucian scholar who had allowed Du Mao to descend the mountain and cross continents into Old Dragon City.

Those who could enter the Confucian temple and sit as attendants of the Supreme Sage and First Teacher were genuinely sages in name and substance, carrying more weight than the so-called Confucian sages who were heads of Confucian academies. Yet the Confucian orthodoxy of the Righteous World still insisted on the term "seventy-two attendants."

The old scholar continued, "Your master also said: 'Life is what I desire; righteousness is also what I desire. If the two cannot be had together, I would forsake life for righteousness.' Now it is Chen Ping'an who is teaching you how to behave! Since Old Third can't teach well, let a child who hasn't studied much teach you instead."

The septuagenarian old man's face was rigid, and he spoke coldly, "You are no longer in the Confucian temple, no longer have a sacrificial statue, and your scholarly lineage has been severed. You should refer to my master as the Second Sage."

The old scholar was so angry that his beard and hair bristled. "If I didn't call him 'Old Turtle Bastard,' I'd already be giving him immense face! Who do you think you are? You entered the temple by relying on rotten moral essays and utterly useless knowledge, just to eat cold pig's head meat."

The septuagenarian old man remained expressionless, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, as if in mockery.

The old scholar patted his chest and muttered to himself, "Must convince with reason, must convince with virtue."

The old scholar sighed. "You two know that I can't do anything to you now, so you feel emboldened, right?"

The middle-aged Confucian scholar shook his head. "I dare not, nor would I wish to."

The septuagenarian Confucian scholar sneered, "Your scholarship is like a shit-stirring stick, a stinking fly that has ruined the great millennium enterprise of our Confucian orthodoxy."

This septuagenarian Confucian scholar, wearing the golden jade pendant inscribed "The Virtuous Have Many Allies," stepped forward instead of retreating. "I say this right in front of you. What can you do?"

The old scholar was so angry he laughed. "Back when I was at my peak, did you forget how you buried yourself in studying the books of my school? If I recall correctly, you even went to Cui Chan to seek guidance. How did that turn out? Cui Chan has done few good things in his life, but he scolded you for learning nothing, only learning Old Third's sanctimoniousness. He even suggested that Confucians should create a title of 'hypocrite' to match that of 'righteous gentleman.' Truly, it hit the nail on the head."

The middle-aged Confucian scholar wore a bitter smile.

The septuagenarian Confucian scholar had remarkable composure. Even after such humiliation from the old scholar, he remained calm and collected.

The old scholar looked up at the high sky and murmured, "A gentleman can be taken advantage of by appealing to his principles—this was something you, Old Third, said yourself. I know, you wanted to add another shackle for scholars, to echo the Supreme Sage and First Teacher's words: 'Restrain yourself and return to ritual, that is benevolence.' But now look at this world—does it match your original intention? You don't need to look at others; just look at this proud disciple of yours. Because of this, even the Grand Sacrificial Officer of the Rites Academy, a disciple of the Ritual Sage, had to shamelessly go beg Bai Ze to act. And what did Bai Ze say? 'Let's see.' See what? I think there's no need to see. This age is just no good, it's going downhill, people's hearts are not what they used to be! Back when we debated scholarship, we both believed, even if our paths diverged, that 'the present generation need not be inferior to the ancients.' What a joke, what a joke!"

The middle-aged Confucian scholar looked toward the septuagenarian Confucian scholar in the south and said softly with a smile, "How about admitting fault to the master?"

The septuagenarian Confucian scholar retorted, "What fault is there?"

The middle-aged Confucian scholar pondered for a moment. "To cut off someone's scholarly lineage and incense fire should only be done through scholarship, only through the choices of the common people themselves, not by force. A Flying Ascension realm qi refiner, under a pretext, provokes an old deity tolerated by four sages, wantonly attacks and kills a young man who 'might be a disciple of the Literary Sage'—this is unreasonable and contrary to ritual!"

The septuagenarian Confucian scholar said calmly, "I am looking at the great enterprise of a thousand years, at the longevity of literary fortune."

The middle-aged Confucian scholar shook his head slightly and said no more.

The old scholar sat down on the edge of the breach in the wall. "Whether reason is spoken or not, who speaks this reason, whether others listen or not—some reasons are always there. You don't understand."

Behind him, a clear, cool voice sounded, "Are you done talking?"

The old scholar nodded. His shoulders slumped, hands folded on his knees, somewhat dejected. "I'm done. Traveled this far, hid your aura the whole way, and now talked so much nonsense—barely any energy left. The Supreme Sage and First Teacher, the Ritual Sage, Old Third, me—so many good reasons we painstakingly worked out—I think I'll have to return them to heaven and earth unchanged."

The tall woman in white gently set down Chen Ping'an, stood up, and walked slowly to the old scholar's side. "Then it's my turn to speak my reason. I'm telling you in advance: if you dare to stop me, I'll include you..."

The old scholar shook his head. "I won't stop you. It's because this worthless old man has no ability that Xiao Qi suffered death and oblivion, and that Xiao Ping'an endured this suffering. I have failed these two disciples. If some people want to eat shit, I can't even stop that. Why would I stop you, who are arguing reason?"

Du Mao, who had been standing there watching the show, laughed. "What, another hidden sword cultivator? Immortal realm? Can't be a Flying Ascension realm who came out of Inverted Mountain, can it?"

The middle-aged Confucian scholar looked at the septuagenarian Confucian scholar in the south with a strange expression. The latter's expression was solemn and grave. Clearly, facing her brought him more pressure than facing the former Literary Sage.

The woman in white yawned, took a step forward, landed straight at the foot of the wall, and walked slowly forward.

At her waist hung an old sword strip without a sheath or hilt, covered in rust, except for a small section at the tip, which had been polished to extreme sharpness and brightness.

The septuagenarian Confucian scholar said in a deep voice, "If you dare to make a move, you will be breaking the rules of this world!"

The woman in white just walked slowly, patting her mouth with her hand, as if she had just woken up.

The old sword strip was not securely fastened, so with her steps, the tip swayed gently, and a snowy sword light flickered erratically.

Du Mao's mind raced. He withdrew his hand into his sleeve, wanting to deduce the heavenly secrets, but suddenly found that this space had been sealed off, making it impossible to calculate the true origin of this tall woman before him.

As she walked, she turned to the middle-aged Confucian scholar and said, "For saying a few sensible words, get out!"

The middle-aged Confucian scholar frowned slightly, but saw the old scholar waving at him. After a brief hesitation, he dissolved his figure and left this "small world" of the river of time's central pillar.

She shifted her gaze slightly southward, glancing sidelong at the septuagenarian Confucian scholar. "Get out."

The old scholar made no move.

The septuagenarian Confucian scholar demanded, "Do you truly intend to contend with the Great Way of this world?"

The tall woman tilted her head, extended a finger, and gently pressed down on the tip of the old sword strip. "I've only sharpened this much, but it should be enough to split Inverted Mountain. So I'll open a gateway between the Righteous World and the Desolate World."

The septuagenarian Confucian scholar's face changed drastically. "Impossible!"

She was not inclined to bother with this fellow.

She gave the old sword strip a gentle push.

It flashed and vanished.

The canopy of this central pillar world was instantly torn open with a huge hole. The flying sword shot straight toward Inverted Mountain, spanning ten thousand leagues and then another ten thousand leagues in an instant.

The old scholar didn't seem to care at all.

He was, after all, that same unruly scholar who, before becoming a sage, had gone to the firmament, stretched his neck, and yelled for the Second Dao to strike him here.

Above the vast sea between the Parasol Continent and the Tongye Continent, a sword cultivator who had been far from the world suddenly looked up.

In an instant, he saw the sea a thousand leagues ahead split in two as if cut by a flying sword. The waves rose as high as mountains and rushed toward him fiercely.

This sword cultivator naturally had no fear of the power of these waves; they would shatter within a hundred zhang of him. But the momentum of that flying sword made even him shudder inwardly.

Did such a sword cultivator exist in the Righteous World?

Had A Liang been knocked down again by the Second Dao?

But A Liang didn't have such a sword now, did he? In fact, he had never had one in his life.

Among the four worlds, the four best swords were: one in the hands of the successive Grand Celestial Masters of the Celestial Master Residence in the Central Earth Divine Continent; one at the waist of that scholar who claimed to be "of dull aptitude, unable to attain the Dao or learn," yet had split the Yellow River and opened a path to heaven; one in the hands of the Second Dao; and after A Liang left Inverted Mountain, he was said to have gone seeking the last one—the sword with "killing power beyond the heavens." But for some reason, the one most worthy of that sword, A Liang, had ended up ascending to the heavens beyond the sky empty-handed.

He did not pursue that flying sword of unmatched killing power. Instead, he was jolted awake and immediately hurried toward the southernmost part of Bottle Gourd Continent.

The septuagenarian Confucian scholar pointed at the tall woman, furious. "You've gone mad!"

She still walked slowly forward.

Du Mao swallowed hard. "Since you've thrown your sword away, do you really intend to fight me to the death?"

She seemed to have heard the funniest joke under heaven. "Fight to the death? You probably don't know something from the old calendars. Since you're young, I won't blame you."

The old scholar suddenly burst into laughter, the kind where he held his belly. "The biggest Treasure-Swallowing Whale of the ancient era—do you know who killed it? I do! But I'm just not going to tell you."

Thus, she walked straight up to a Flying Ascension realm deity, stopping at about the same distance Du Mao had stood before Zheng Dafeng earlier.

But since the woman in white was tall, she looked down at this damned old immortal, her eyes icy cold. "Why don't you try using your lifespan celestial treasure? I'll stand still. I'm not lying."

"Bitch, you're looking for death!"

Du Mao roared and shot forward.

But the Sword-Swallowing Boat instantly streaked like lightning, stabbing straight at the strange woman's head.

There were only a few steps between them, and even less space for the lifespan celestial treasure.

Yet Du Mao's heart trembled violently.

Even the septuagenarian Confucian scholar's eyelids began to twitch.

The Sword-Swallowing Boat hovered tremblingly before her eyes, filled with instinctive fear and a plaintive resentment toward its master, Du Mao.

The tall woman extended a finger and pointed downward. "Be good. Don't get in the way. Go lower."

The Sword-Swallowing Boat obediently began to descend, finally hovering at her feet. But she still kicked it away violently, saying angrily, "No memory."

Du Mao habitually extended his thumb and wiped the corner of his mouth. Anyone familiar with "that old freak of Tongye Sect" would know that when Du Mao made this gesture, he was almost ready to fight to the death.

The tall woman sighed and said to Du Mao, "You're lucky—you only lost one lifespan treasure. That sword strike was originally meant for you. But next time I show up in Tongye Continent, you won't have such good luck."

Just then, at the place where the canopy had been torn open, a large hand emerged from a blue sleeve. Two fingers clamped onto the old sword strip. The arm trembled, and the sleeve billowed.

Clearly, even temporarily controlling this old sword strip, with its sharpened tip, was no easy task.

A majestic voice came from the greater world outside into this small world. "Nonsense. Don't let it happen again."

The tall woman turned her head. "What? You want me to hold the sword and strike again? Shall I connect the Righteous World and the Qingming World?"

She beckoned, and the old sword strip instantly broke free from the hand's grip, landing in her grasp.

The owner of the arm did not reveal himself, but he flicked his wrist. A clear breeze gathered like a surging river, directly enveloping the septuagenarian Confucian scholar. He said, "Come with me to the Confucian temple and reflect in seclusion."

The old scholar clicked his tongue. "Now you can't even eat cold pig's head meat anymore."

The man snorted, seemingly directed at the old scholar. "Old scholar, you clean up the mess from today's affair. The Confucian temple will not intervene."

The old scholar jumped up and cursed, "I won't accept this! Give me some benefit! Otherwise, I'll go to the Confucian temple, take down all the statues except the old master's, including the Ritual Sage and you—move the remaining seventy statues and throw them all out! Then I'll move mine back in! After all, the old master liked me best anyway..."

The man sighed as he tucked the septuagenarian Confucian scholar into his sleeve. "Take it."

As the words settled.

The tear in the small world's canopy had already closed, but a golden jade pendant drifted down lightly. It was not the septuagenarian's "The Virtuous Have Many Allies" pendant, but the middle-aged Confucian scholar's "I Nurture the Righteous Qi."

The old scholar caught it in his hand, finally satisfied. "This time it's somewhat fair. A little bit of good."

The man seemed annoyed by the phrase "a little bit of good." He did not immediately return to the Central Earth Divine Continent but instead left a vast, majestic righteous qi lingering outside the small world. The old scholar straightened his neck. "What, you're not satisfied either? Want me to talk to you about that Third and Fourth debate, and why I actually lost? Was it really because your scholarship was deeper than mine? If not for the fact that among my disciples were Qi Jingchun and Zuo You..."

As the old scholar seemingly "talked nonsense," he shook his sleeves, bent his knees slightly, and prepared to sit and discuss the Dao.

Only Confucian sages and Central Earth Upper Five Realm immortals could witness how that person's scholarship had once been at its zenith, how it had overwhelmed the sages of Buddhism and Daoism!

Even the teacher-betraying Great Li National Master Cui Chan, when speaking of this sealed history, had a look of passionate generosity.

The man left directly.

The old scholar stopped his threatening motion, stared wide-eyed for a long moment, saw no movement—the man had probably left—then took a bite of the golden jade pendant. "Oh, it's real. Still somewhat reasonable. All that saliva I wasted—not a loss."

This time, leaving the Lizhu Cave Heaven, the tall woman, for the first time truly wielding the old sword strip, smiled at Du Mao. "Your luck seems a bit worse than I imagined."

The old scholar laughed heartily. "Not tired of the constraints of the Flying Ascension realm? Beat him down to Jade Awareness or Nascent Soul realm, and you can go anywhere! Want to cut off my scholarly lineage? Ha, this time you've hit an iron plate—no, no, you've kicked an old sword strip. Du Mao, your luck is unique in ten thousand years. You can still brag about it when you go out..."

The tall woman turned her head, narrowed her eyes, and said sternly, "Take good care of my master!"

The old scholar shrank his neck. "Don't worry, I care about Xiao Ping'an no less than you do."

Du Mao rolled up his sleeve and said slowly, "Without the Sword-Swallowing Boat, I am still a Flying Ascension realm!"

The old scholar curled his lip and flicked his sleeve. The canopy of the small world above Du Mao's head opened, just enough to let Du Mao alone return to the Righteous World.

Du Mao finally became somewhat frantic. The reason Flying Ascension realm cultivators stayed cooped up in various cave heavens and blessed lands, besides easily causing chaos in the world's fortunes and being bound by Confucian rules, was also that they themselves dared not show their faces easily—it could easily invite the suppression of the Great Way!

The tall woman held the sword horizontally before her and said calmly, "Close it."

The old scholar nodded and indeed closed the canopy gap again.

Now Du Mao began to feel a trace of panic, but the ferocity on his face did not diminish. "Since you value that young man so much, are you really willing to exchange your cultivation base with me?"

The tall woman laughed. "Now you want to reason with me?"

A wise man submits to circumstances.

Du Mao had three goals for this northern journey: if the opportunity arose, cut off the incense fire of the Literary Sage's lineage and also test the flying sword of the sword cultivator Zuo You; second, someone wanted to test the bottom line of the old deity of Lizhu Cave Heaven; third, he came for the Tongye Sect's infiltration of half of Bottle Gourd Continent.

He had already achieved two goals. The first was now optional; he was not a Confucian disciple, so there was no need to consume his own cultivation base for this.

In mountain cultivation, strength is paramount.

At least Du Mao had always advocated this view.

Those who overcome others gain power; those who overcome themselves attain the Way.

The former was tangible and could be pocketed. As for the latter, in Du Mao's eyes, it was completely overblown nonsense. If you die on the Great Way, even if it's called dying for the Way, you're still dead, aren't you?

She gently grasped the old sword strip. "Earlier, when my master stood before you, did you reason with him?"

Du Mao was a true petty man. "With his current cultivation, he's nothing but a cripple. If not for wanting to lure out the sword cultivator Zuo You, he wouldn't even be worthy of me saying a single word to him. You are worth it!"

The tall woman held the sword with one hand and made a gesture with the other.

The old scholar reluctantly produced a landscape scroll. "Take it easy."

When Du Mao saw that unusual scroll, he hesitated no longer. He withdrew his useless lifespan celestial treasure back into his acupoints, simultaneously manifested his golden body dharma image, rammed his shoulder against the small world, and sped away toward the South Sea.

She did not pursue.

The old scholar smiled and casually tossed out the scroll.

The tall woman and Du Mao's golden body dharma image disappeared one after the other.

Then the scroll of mountains and rivers hovered in front of the old scholar. As for this small world of Old Dragon City, it sealed itself seamlessly. Outside Old Dragon City, except for that teaching matron who could blink slightly, everyone else remained completely still.

From the scroll came intermittent sounds of silk tearing, caused by Du Mao's golden body dharma image tearing through the scroll's space, and also by swords piercing through the void.

The old scholar watched with a pained heart.

In less than the time it takes to burn an incense stick, the old scholar was greatly relieved. He flicked his finger at a certain spot on the scroll, then tucked the scroll into his sleeve.

The tall woman walked out slowly from the void. The old sword strip hung at her waist, and the sharpened tip had dimmed somewhat.

She yawned, dragging a leg behind her.

Du Mao, the Flying Ascension realm grand cultivator of Tongye Continent, was dragged out of the scroll by her like a dead dog.

She asked, "Just this... what was his name again?"

The old scholar wiped the sweat from his brow. "Du Mao, the strongest cultivator on Tongye Continent apart from the old Daoist of the East Sea."

She gave an "oh," casually tossing the "corpse" aside. "He has some unconventional divine powers. He probably sent his yin spirit home the moment he broke through the canopy. This corpse is just the external body of his yang spirit."

The old scholar suddenly understood. "So it was just an external body. No wonder the sage stationed in the heavens agreed to let him go—it could be glossed over at the academy if not for our disturbance."

But the old scholar looked speechless. "Even so, Du Mao still has the cultivation of the twelfth realm, doesn't he?"

She sat cross-legged beside Chen Ping'an, carefully holding him in her arms again. She looked into the distance and said leisurely, "Before my sword, is there any difference between the twelfth and thirteenth?"

The old scholar asked quietly, "What about the Sword-Swallowing Boat?"

She said absently, "I lifted the innate suppression and let his yang spirit use that weapon. Then I smashed it. Otherwise, I would have come out earlier. I just wanted to know what this so-called 'celestial treasure' really is."

The old scholar wiped his forehead again. "How are you yourself?"

The tall woman looked down at the young face that had grown somewhat paler. He seemed to be having nightmares. Though the old scholar had temporarily stopped the injuries, it would still be hard to endure. She reached out a finger and gently rubbed his brow, speaking softly, "That stone cliff in the great mountain of Lizhu Cave Heaven was originally the sword intent of my former master, condensed into form. It was always mine. But so many years passed, I couldn't be bothered. Later, I made a small deal with that... Ruan whatever. He took thirty percent of that True Dragon Execution Platform."

The old scholar glanced at the tip of the old sword strip at her waist and laughed. "So these past few years, you've been using Ruan Qiong's True Dragon Execution Platform to sharpen your sword?"

She said calmly, "I used the one from True Martial Mountain. This piece from Ruan Qiong is to be left for my little Ping'an."

The old scholar was dripping with sweat.

She looked south. "This isn't over yet."

The old scholar shook his head. "No, absolutely not. It's not over, but you cannot act anymore. Let me handle it. This is for Xiao Ping'an's sake."

She nodded. "I'll go back this time and won't come out for a while. If I come out next time and find that your so-called 'good' is not good at all, I will find you. You should understand—now that you are one with the Great Way of the Righteous World, only I in this world can kill you."

The old scholar forced a dry laugh. "We're family. Why be so fierce?"

The tall woman's white sleeves fluttered in the wind. She shook her head. "Things were fine before. But because you insisted on taking him as your last disciple, today's calamity came to pass. If you weren't half a member of the family, you would be the first to die."

The old scholar glared. "Don't say such petulant words! Besides, would you dare say such nonsense in front of your master?"

She replied bluntly, "I wouldn't say it aloud. I would do it secretly. Whether Chen Ping'an recognizes me or not, I am still his master."

The old scholar was left speechless.

With a wave of her hand, she retrieved three long, narrow bluestones from the fragment of the small gift she had given Chen Ping'an long ago. These were the True Dragon Execution Platforms that sword cultivators dreamed of, varying in size—some small as a ruler, others as large as a floor tile from a palace. She handed Chen Ping'an to the old scholar. "I'll go out and take care of some small matters."

The old scholar said grudgingly, "Talk nicely, okay?"

This time, the tall woman did not walk to some place; with a single step, she appeared before someone.

It was the Nascent Soul sword cultivator's teaching matron.

The tall woman extended two fingers and forcibly pulled a lifespan flying sword out of the matron's heart cavity. She pinched both ends of the flying sword with her two fingers, increasing the pressure slightly, bending the sword into an arc.

Within this small world, the old woman's body was frozen, but her eyes were filled with pleading.

The tall woman tilted her head slightly. "Beg me? Or, like my master, speak a reasonable argument, and I'll agree not to snap this flying sword."

This was clearly being unreasonable.

After a brief pause, this teaching matron of the Yunlin Jiang Clan—how could she have the immortal realm divine power to speak a single word in this small world? So the tall woman continued to increase the pressure. The arc grew larger and larger until, with a crack, the sword snapped cleanly.

Blood gushed from the teaching matron's seven orifices, cracks appeared in her golden core, and her Nascent Soul wailed in agony.

The tall woman sneered. "Your reasons, you see, I've always rather liked them. But while my little Ping'an is still unconscious, I'll do what I need to do. I may not have such an opportunity later."

After saying this, she soared straight up like an immortal to the sea of clouds above Old Dragon City.

The green-robed woman Fan Junmao maintained that strange seated posture. She looked up, her eyes fervent and filled with awe. Fan Junmao's first words were, "I did not know beforehand that this young man was your new master!"

The tall woman, with the old sword strip hanging at her waist, stood before Fan Junmao, bent down, and asked with a smile, "Ignorance is bliss?"

Fan Junmao shook her head. "Ignorance is a great crime! I admit it!"

The tall woman rubbed her brow. "Why are you just like back then? Every day looking so pitiful? Either secretly running to the arched bridge to cry at the sea of clouds, or kneeling on the sea of clouds like today. How does that make me want to kill you?"

Fan Junmao's face lit up. "Kill me if you will! Having you here is enough!"

The tall woman gave an "oh." She lightly tapped the end of the old sword strip with her palm, making it flip up in a circle. Then she thrust the sword straight through Fan Junmao's heart and slowly lifted her into the air. "Is it enough? Don't you know how many beings like you I killed back then?"

Blood seeped from the corners of Fan Junmao's mouth, but her eyes held only exhilaration. "You haven't changed, you haven't changed. I knew it—it's been ten thousand years, and still the same. Even if another ten thousand years pass, you will never change... As long as you are willing to show this spirit, under heaven..."

The tall woman glanced back at the city wall of Old Dragon City. She descended from the sea of clouds back to the ground, withdrawing the old sword strip from Fan Junmao's heart and returning it to her waist.

Fan Junmao collapsed onto the sea of clouds, clutching her heart, and fell unconscious. But the sea of clouds began to surge wildly into her body.

At the breach in the Old Dragon City wall, Chen Ping'an had already regained consciousness, and then looked somewhat dazed.

The old scholar was nowhere to be seen.

Then he saw that familiar figure drift slowly down before him, hovering outside the breach in the wall at high altitude.

The young man, no longer the thin, impoverished boy from the Mud Bottle Alley, asked softly, "Did I do something wrong?"

She shook her head.

The young man promised, "Next time I'll be more careful. Maybe learn some deduction techniques from the Yin-Yang school. I thought I could handle it myself, but I didn't expect that cultivator's realm to be so high..."

She shook her head again.

The young man asked, "Are you disappointed in me?"

She shook her head once more.

And so.

Chen Ping'an's eyes crinkled into a smile.

So did the tall woman.