Chapter 368: The Suffering of the World Cannot Be Spoken
(A 15,000-word chapter.)
After waiting for a while, Du Mao still hadn't shown himself.
Zuo You glanced toward that Ancestor Mountain and chuckled, "Still not coming out? For someone who's been to the Flying Ascension realm, that sort of face must be so thick even my flying sword couldn't pierce it, right?"
But then Zuo You suddenly noticed something unusual. At the mountainside of Ancestor Mountain, amidst a stretch of celestial pavilions and rolling immortal grounds, there was an old Jade Pu realm cultivator who seemed to be protecting a young girl with excellent bone structure. At that moment, everyone was staring at the girl with strange expressions. She was a very young Dragon Gate realm cultivator.
When she noticed Zuo You looking at her, she immediately lowered her head in fear.
Zuo You furrowed his brow.
Because many disciples of Tongye Sect, almost simultaneously, had turned their gazes toward that Ancestor Mountain's midsection, as if all looking for her.
The old Jade Pu realm cultivator beside the girl, likely her protector, was so angry his face turned ashen, but he didn't dare provoke that supremely lethal swordsman.
The girl was timid, and having suffered such a great injustice, she began to silently weep.
For a mountain sect to stand firm, even to look down on all other mountains, it was actually quite simple: you needed people who could fight.
In the past, they had them—they had built up a legacy, passed down the incense fire, possessed techniques and divine abilities that reached the Upper Five Realms, allowing them to take root deeply and then spread their branches far and wide.
In the present, they had them—they could repel anyone who came to cause trouble, and when they went to smash someone else's place, they could at least make the opponent submit verbally, providing a cool shade for their sect and protecting their juniors.
In the future, they needed to have them—no gaps between generations. Otherwise, the more arrogant and domineering they were now, when the wheel of fortune turned, what would they do then? Would the Ancestral Hall still be usable? After all, in mountain cultivation, revenge didn't follow the gentleman's rule of "ten years is not too late." They would scheme for a hundred years, several hundred years, even a thousand years.
So this reincarnated girl, whose past life was a Jade Pu realm cultivator, had taken the Tongye Sect nearly thirty years after their divination specialists pointed out the general direction—painstakingly searching for her location. Someone had gone incognito and waited for "her" for decades until she was born a few years later. After a series of battles and struggles, they finally succeeded in bringing her back to the mountain.
So this girl brought back to Tongye Sect was someone who could fight in the future.
Similar to the female Daoist Huang Ting of Taiping Mountain, except she was still far from Huang Ting's cultivation base and, more importantly, her aura—the latter being especially crucial, involving the heart of the Dao.
The old Heavenly Lord of Taiping Mountain and the sect master Song Mao must have verbally scolded Huang Ting many times for stirring up trouble and not knowing restraint, but in their hearts, they were certainly overjoyed.
The only regret for this girl, on whom Tongye Sect placed great hopes, was that although her aptitude was excellent, her temperament was just too soft. Several times she had gone down the mountain to temper her Dao heart, and the sect's evaluations were always: extraordinary talent, lively disposition, and so on, with hundreds of words of praise and appreciation. But each time, at the end, they would add a sentence or two, like "gentle nature, a bit lacking in decisive killing intent."
But due to her special identity, no one dared to say a single harsh word. The Du family, the biggest power in Tongye Sect, treated her like the apple of their eye.
The reason was simple: besides being a reincarnation of a Jade Pu realm cultivator, she had an even more important identity—she had indeed been the mother of Du Mao, the patriarch of the sect's resurgence.
Searching for reincarnated individuals to continue good karmic ties.
Generally, only sect-level mountain immortals had such depth and means.
Zuo You paused, holding his sword in one hand and scratching his head with the other. Probably not wanting to frighten an innocent little girl, he explained, "Just joking, don't take it seriously. We scholars like to use double entendres."
It would have been better if he hadn't said anything. The girl was already terrified.
After this explanation,
The pale-faced girl slowly wrinkled her little face. She had just secretly wiped away her tears, and now she struggled to hold back from showing weakness in front of this big bad man. Otherwise, according to her usual temperament, she would have already let her tears fall pitter-patter in grievance.
A dilemma for Zuo You.
But he didn't want to say much more.
Dealing with women—little Qi wasn't good at it, and that bastard Cui Chan was a bit better. As for Zuo You, he had always felt that women's thoughts were even harder to fathom than the Master's scholarship—in short, harder than studying.
As for whether Zuo You's scholarship was great or not,
Compared to Qi Jingchun's orthodoxy and Cui Chan's crooked brain, he was indeed somewhat inferior.
Since childhood, he hadn't liked studying. It was only because the old scholar forced him to that he had studied. Naturally, he still had some scholarship. Ordinary virtuous men and gentlemen of the academies weren't even qualified to discuss the Dao with Zuo You.
It should be known that Zuo You practiced the sword. Where did his sword qi come from?
From the very beginning, it came from books, from countless cliff carvings, from countless rubbings of inscriptions.
Little Qi, to ensure his smooth sword practice, had accompanied him through countless mountains and rivers back then.
Zuo You sighed softly and gazed into the distance toward the Central Plains Divine Continent.
He withdrew his gaze and noticed that beside the girl stood a young man with the innate aptitude of a sword embryo. His gaze was sharp and stubborn, staring directly at Zuo You, unwilling to turn his head even when his eyes were seared by Zuo You's sword qi.
Zuo You glanced at a certain spot on Ancestor Mountain. "Du Mao, I know what you want to do. Go ahead and try. I'll be waiting."
After that, Zuo You casually slashed with his sword, once again cutting a gate in the barrier of the great formation behind him, and turned to walk out.
At the border of Tongye Sect's territory, Zuo You hovered in midair, closing his eyes to rest. When the sun rose in the east, he began to shatter certain solidified mountain and river qi with his purest sword qi and sword intent—for example, a certain mountain peak, a stretch of river, a towering tree that might become a spirit, a pavilion suppressing yin and evil energy, or buried earth-suppressing objects.
A small amount of spiritual qi scattered and leaked out, but overall it didn't seem like much was lost.
In reality, the consequences were extremely severe.
Mountain and river qi emphasized hiding wind and gathering water. Where they were hidden and where they were gathered all had their intricacies. Who would dare to recklessly gather such chaotic qi into their own bag? Fortune and calamity were uncertain.
This swordsman simply blocked the entrance of their home, like an old farmer digging at the ground, and began to undermine Tongye Sect's foundation.
Because it was on the border, waves of spiritual qi inevitably flowed into outsiders' fields. At first, Tongye Sect didn't dare send anyone to collect the qi and return it to the sect.
Later, Tongye Sect couldn't bear to lose that spiritual qi and sent an old Golden Core realm cultivator to die heroically, taking a magic treasure to capture the spiritual qi.
Unexpectedly, that swordsman didn't even glance at the "mere Golden Core" and simply landed on the surface of a great river. The fine strands of spiritual qi nurtured by the river beneath his feet instantly shattered.
Another Golden Core cultivator mustered courage and flew out from the mountain, hovering dozens of miles behind the swordsman, carefully gathering the scattered spiritual qi and trying to return it to the river, helping to sort out and stabilize the water vein channels.
After ten days, the swordsman and those frantic Earth Immortal cultivators of Tongye Continent were still fairly peaceful, each doing their own thing.
After another ten days, the sect lifted the ban, and some cultivators below the Golden Core realm in the Middle Five Realms began to secretly approach the vicinity of that swordsman, keeping thirty to fifty miles away, each with complex and extremely mixed feelings.
After another ten days, even many young cultivators in the Lower Five Realms started coming to join the excitement, to "pay homage" to this person.
And that swordsman named "Zuo You," except for occasionally glancing toward the peak of Ancestor Mountain, never paid any attention to those Tongye Sect cultivators.
After the Greater Cold solar term, the New Year was not far off.
There was a saying in the mundane world: "The year-end hurdle is hard to cross, but every year you still cross it."
Only then did the disciples of Tongye Sect, who had been swaggering across the continent for countless years, realize that their own sect could also have difficulties.
Then one day, Tongye Sect meticulously set up an ambush, mobilizing two Jade Pu realm cultivators and nearly ten Earth Immortals.
Zuo You broke it with a single sword strike.
Then he changed his route and went back near Ancestor Mountain, where he split a sealed-off mountain—originally meant to be gifted to a future Jade Pu realm cultivator as an immortal residence—from peak to base, cleaving a massive canyon.
Then he swaggered off into the distance.
After that, he continued to block their door and undermine their foundation.
With such a huge commotion, news inevitably leaked. The sect-level mountain gates and Nascent Soul Earth Immortals of Tongye Continent already knew, but since the academy hadn't stepped in to stop him, no one dared to court trouble and come watch the show.
Except for one person.
Jiang Shangzhen, a Jade Pu realm cultivator of Yugui Sect, the head of the Jiang clan whose lifebound object was a willow leaf.
This man first bowed to Zuo You with a formal apology, then stared grimly for a long time, and suddenly burst into earth-shattering laughter.
When rushing north and returning south, he deliberately flew extremely slowly, swaggering with both sleeves flapping wildly.
As a result, he was almost split in half by Zuo You's sword.
But even as he fled in disgrace, Jiang Shangzhen's laughter was still wild with joy.
One day, a girl stood timidly in the distance and asked in a trembling voice, "Why do you wantonly destroy my sect's qi?"
Zuo You had become quite familiar with Tongye Sect by now. He could clearly hear some whispers that the Tongye Sect disciples thought he couldn't hear. After thinking for a moment, he replied, "With such a wastrel, how is he a patriarch of resurgence? I'd say he's a patriarch of annihilation. So you shouldn't have given birth to Du Mao."
The delicate girl was filled with shame and anger.
The young man who accompanied her, also the hope of Tongye Sect's future millennium, had a much sharper temperament than his soft peer. He carried on his back a long sword personally bestowed by the ancestor Du Mao, his eyes filled with hatred. "One day, you will die by my sword!"
Zuo You smiled. "Since that's the case, I'll follow local customs."
The Tongye Sect sect master, a purple-robed swordsman whose injuries had not yet fully healed, descended from the sky and stood in front of the boy and girl, shielding them. He actually apologized to Zuo You, saying, "Children's words have no offense. I beg the Sword Immortal not to take it to heart."
Zuo You sat cross-legged on the edge of a cliff on a mountain peak. "I heard that your Tongye Sect has always liked to throw flying swords and hurl magic treasures at the slightest disagreement. If you can't win, you announce your name, go back to the mountain to complain to your elders, and then swarm down the mountain to kill people. Is that about right?"
The purple-robed swordsman smiled bitterly and said nothing.
Zuo You said with a smile, "Are you thinking, 'So what if it is?'"
The purple-robed swordsman's face changed drastically. He gave the young man a vicious slap across the face, shouting angrily, "Kneel and kowtow! Apologize to the Sword Immortal! Keep kowtowing until the Sword Immortal is satisfied!"
Blood seeped from the corner of the young man's mouth. "I'd rather die than kowtow!"
Zuo You smiled faintly. "For these arrogant innate sword embryos, I really have no interest in teaching them how to be human and reason. A child's misdeeds are the father's fault; lax teaching is the teacher's negligence. Since you're their elder, you can take another strike from me."
The purple-robed swordsman was pierced through the abdomen by a sword, crashing through another mountain peak behind him, and fell miserably to the ground.
Whether he had deliberately suppressed his realm to let Zuo You vent his anger with that sword strike, only heaven, earth, and the two of them knew.
Zuo You looked at the young man. "Not going to say another harsh word? Maybe Du Mao will come out to protect you."
The young man's face was deathly pale.
Zuo You said, "If you don't speak, you'll die. If you say something harsh, maybe someone will block a sword for you. What do you choose now?"
The sword-carrying young man was in a fierce internal struggle.
The girl suddenly stood in front of the young man, heartbroken, and cried out, "Stop bullying him! His sword heart will shatter! You're so powerful, why do you have to be so petty with him?!"
Zuo You smiled. "Go ask your son about that."
The girl's vision blurred with tears.
She felt that there was no one in the world more unreasonable than this man!
Zuo You stood up. "Just now, he didn't want to kowtow for the sake of face, to show off to some sect elders and leave a good impression. Now he doesn't even dare to say 'I'd rather die' because he truly values his life. This kind of innate sword embryo, tsk."
Zuo You looked northward and said self-deprecatingly, "Why is it that only after returning to this human world do I start to appreciate little junior brother's good points?"
Once, through a stroke of fortune, Zuo You had obtained that sword of his. Little Qi had once joked, "I happened upon a three-foot sword, crossing the sea to slay a giant whale. Sheathed and hung on the wall, it still rings with clanging."
After that, Zuo You left the Central Plains Divine Continent, far from the human world, and roamed over the sea. He hadn't read any more books since then.
Zuo You said to the girl, "Setting aside Du Mao and the past karma between you and him, as for this visit of mine, it has indeed implicated you and made you a laughingstock. I was at fault first. You may make one reasonable request."
The girl wiped her tears, skeptical. "Really?"
Zuo You nodded. "Only one chance. It must be reasonable."
The girl mustered her courage. "Then please let him go. Don't suppress his sword heart anymore."
Zuo You nodded. "Fine."
He deliberately withdrew the sword qi that naturally leaked out.
In fact, the girl didn't know that it wasn't that Zuo You was targeting the young prodigy's sword heart, but that his sword heart was already impure to begin with.
Otherwise, just standing beside a swordsman like Zuo You was a considerable blessing—like "entering a room of orchids."
The girl broke into a smile through her tears, but then, thinking that smiling at this great enemy was no different from betraying her master and sect, she quickly put on a stern face.
Zuo You turned to leave, ready to continue severing the mountains and rivers and scattering the qi of Tongye Sect. He looked back and said, "Du Mao is really a wastrel. You'll find out soon enough."
The girl was bewildered.
Behind her, the young man trembled unsteadily, his sword heart even more unstable.
Zuo You sped away, his sword qi like a rainbow.
Over at Ancestor Mountain, the anomalies in the Wutong Lesser Paradise were becoming increasingly obvious.
Want to ascend? You'll have to ask my sword if it agrees.
---
An intercontinental ferry from Beiju Continent had already arrived above the map of Eastern Treasures Vial Continent.
It was moving extremely fast, consuming an incalculable amount of immortal coins. The passengers naturally welcomed this—who wouldn't want to reach their destination sooner?
Rumor had it that a wealthy old Nascent Soul cultivator had thrown down a huge sum of money for the ferry to do this.
A stocky man of medium height, staying in the cheapest bottom-level cabins, kept to himself.
He seemed to be a pure martial artist, but it was impossible to tell what realm he was in.
Actually, the fact that you couldn't tell was enough to make even clever Qi refineries wary.
It was said that in the legendary tenth realm of martial arts, the Stopping Realm had three layers: Qi Flourishing, Returning to Truth, and Spirit Arrival.
After Li Er left Lion Peak Mountain, his momentum kept rising, and for no apparent reason, he entered the Returning to Truth category.
Li Er thought that was good.
If you're going to tear down someone's Ancestral Hall, you need a hard fist!
---
Old Dragon City was seething with undercurrents.
The Fan family remained motionless, although in the eyes of most in the Fan Ancestral Hall, this was called waiting for death.
The Sun family also made little noise. Though they had long chosen to attach themselves to the Fu family, they hadn't hurriedly submitted any declaration of allegiance.
The Dust Mistletoe Apothecary remained that lively little place no one disturbed.
Chen Ping'an sat behind the counter. On the table lay the smallest piece of the Dragon-Slaying Platform, shaped like a ruler.
Chu Yi and Shi Wu were "sharpening their swords," zipping back and forth over the Dragon-Slaying Platform, sending sparks flying.
They were chirping with delight.
Chen Ping'an was doing his accounts.
That golden jade pendant engraved with "I Nurture the Spirit of Uprightness" could absorb spiritual qi from heaven and earth on its own. It was like a small paradise that could be hung at the waist.
Unfortunately, he couldn't wear it right now because it clashed with the formation of the Dust Mistletoe Apothecary and the yin spirit of the Zhao clan.
Once he reached a place with beautiful mountains, clear waters, and abundant spiritual qi, he could take it out.
Pei Qian liked it a lot. Earlier, by the counter, she had handled it lovingly, touching it for a long time, but in the end, she was too embarrassed to ask Chen Ping'an to borrow it for fun.
Since it couldn't solve the immediate problem, Chen Ping'an had to temporarily shelve this jade pendant.
But what troubled him most and gave him the most headaches was that yang spirit external incarnation of the Flying Ascension realm great cultivator—this was a genuine immortal corpse!
Young Cui Chan, or rather Cui Dongshan's current skin, was just like that.
But how to use this remnant corpse involved great learning. One careless move meant losing everything. Used well, it could yield a thousandfold profit.
It was even more difficult than refining a lifebound object.
First, you had to "open the door." An immortal corpse was a truly undefeatable golden body. Even a middle-five-realm swordsman's lifebound flying sword, striking with all its might, might not be able to pierce it.
Second, like Cui Dongshan's grafting and usurpation, the "soul entering the door" had to be intact and powerful enough, and the person had to be naturally strong-willed.
Otherwise, in the end, Du Mao might revive. If he seized the opportunity to return to Tongye Sect and reoccupy his yang spirit, the consequences would be unimaginable.
Third, how to nurture it. An immortal corpse, if left alone, could last for a thousand years without issue. But once it had a new master, you had to spend money.
Fourth, how would the new "Du Mao" grow? Which path of cultivation would he choose? Otherwise, it would be a waste of heavenly treasures.
In secular dynasties, when praising officials, there was a saying: "A prime minister's caliber." But there was still a long way to go, and often a need for luck, before one actually became the chief minister.
Chen Ping'an had asked the Zhao Clan yin spirit in detail about this, but the latter had been vague, as it involved many inside secrets and he dared not speak much.
He owed the Fan family, or rather Fan Junmao, fifty Grain Rain Coins.
He had only a few Gold Essence Coins left in his pouch.
Money flowed like water, and income didn't cover expenses—that was Chen Ping'an's current awkward situation.
Pei Qian's thoughts were always unconstrained. She said time was like a flying sword—whoosh, it was gone. You couldn't even see its tail.
Chen Ping'an felt that the silver in his pocket was running faster than a flying sword.
He sighed and put away the jade token. Since there were definitely no customers in the apothecary, he let Chu Yi and Shi Wu continue honing their sword edges.
For this trip, with Chu Yi and Shi Wu killing continuously, their sword edges had dulled considerably. According to the Zhao Clan yin spirit, if they kept consuming like this, once cracks appeared in the flying swords, it would be disastrous.
However, "eating" that piece of the Dragon-Slaying Platform like this could repair them.
Such a small piece of Dragon-Slaying Platform was a dream treasure for swordsmen everywhere and could sell for many Grain Rain Coins.
It wasn't without reason that ordinary swordsmen were almost all poor.
Even A Liang, when he walked the martial world of the Central Plains Divine Continent back then, before going to Hanging Mountain, owed a huge debt. Although not all of it was used to nurture his sword—mostly because every time he acted, he had to pay to repair the pitiful sects' mountains and peaks, which took up the bulk of the expense—it was still an unwritten rule that swordsmen found it hardest to save money. The reason was both simple and not simple: simply because only the sword needed money burned on it, and they didn't have to divide their attention or be greedy for other treasures. The not-so-simple part was that this one item was already harder to maintain than other Qi refiners. If a Qi refiner was short on money, at least he could sell off some of his family treasures to exchange for cash, patching one hole to mend another, raising the rank of a magic treasure suitable for current cultivation. What could a swordsman sell? His own lifebound flying sword?
Although Pei Qian couldn't endure the pain of opening tendons, pulling bones, and opening joints, she still hoped to practice martial arts—as long as it didn't involve pain, she was willing.
For example, today she was consulting with Xiao Bai about martial arts. Old Wei didn't like to talk about these things, and she annoyed him to the point where he went into his room, wrapped himself in his quilt, and snored loudly. Pei Qian was furious and poked his bedding with her walking staff, but Old Wei ignored her, his snores like thunder.
Pei Qian had to settle for the next best thing and consult with Lu Baixiang, her second-best friend.
Lu Baixiang went to the yard, thought for a moment, and began to imitate Chen Ping'an's six-step walking stance. It was quite charming, very free and easy.
As he walked, he turned to Pei Qian and said with a smile, "When teaching boxing, don't teach the steps. Teaching the steps gives the student the power to beat the teacher. This is an excellent foundation of boxing principles. Among the four of us, when it comes to form, Zhu Lian spreads the widest and closes the tightest, best embodying the idea of 'freely releasing and retracting.'"
After the six-step walking stance, he lightly punched forward, making a booming sound. Lu Baixiang continued, "With strength spreading in all eight directions, you can be half-asleep, half-awake. At the slightest movement, your hair stands on end and your fist force trembles."
Lu Baixiang performed a whip kick and landed gracefully. "The human spine is like the dragon vein of heaven and earth. Hence, in martial arts, there is the saying 'rectifying the great dragon.' It's not particularly profound, but it's extremely crucial. The spine connects joint by joint, like a flood dragon shaking its body. When force is instantly released, a stream of pure true qi suddenly circulates through the qi prefectures and meridians for hundreds, even thousands of miles, driving the entire body's skin, flesh, tendons, bones, and blood. Naturally, each strike is heavy and powerful."
Zhu Lian sat on a low stool under the eaves, reading a book about talented scholars and beautiful ladies—descriptions that were just right, neither too fat nor too lean, not greasy. When he heard Lu Baixiang's praise of himself, he laughed happily.
Lu Baixiang had great patience and asked with a smile, "Do you roughly understand? If not, I can break it down and explain in detail."
Pei Qian nodded vigorously. "I understand it all, but I don't want to learn to walk."
Lu Baixiang laughed. "If you don't learn to walk first, how will you run or fly later?"
Pei Qian glanced at the narrow saber "Stopping Snow" at Lu Baixiang's waist. "But I just want to learn the most powerful sword techniques. If that's too much, saber techniques are fine too."
Lu Baixiang turned his head toward Chen Ping'an, who had quietly sat down on a long bench, and said helplessly, "I'm out of ideas."
When Pei Qian saw Chen Ping'an, she was like a mouse seeing a cat. She immediately changed her tune and said seriously, "I'll learn to walk first then!"
Zhu Lian clicked his tongue. "Iron-boned weathercock, turning with the wind, a loss-making good-for-nothing."
Pei Qian brandished her walking staff angrily. "Just because you cook delicious food doesn't mean you're all that! Come out and fight if you dare!"
Zhu Lian said, "Oh my," closed his book, bent over and stood up. "I don't believe it! Today, I'm going to spar with you, or else you won't know that among the cooks in the Dust Mistletoe Apothecary, I'm the most formidable."
Pei Qian was undaunted. "Fine! Let's start by comparing who can copy more books!"
Zhu Lian sat back down on his low stool and continued reading.
Chen Ping'an didn't pay attention to this commotion.
In matters like these, Chen Ping'an never restrained Pei Qian.
Chen Ping'an stood up with a smile. Having some rare leisure, he lightly stepped into the center of the yard.
His complexion wasn't great, but his spirit at that moment wasn't bad.
He began to perform the six-step walking stance slowly, while his hands formed the fists of the "Divine Man Beating the Drum" posture.
The walking stance and the fist form had nothing to do with realm or cultivation.
The feeling of his fist intent was simply the word "natural."
Pei Qian felt that even just watching the same walking stance, when Chen Ping'an took it seriously, was comfortable.
Zhu Lian looked up, his face full of admiration. "The meaning is a bit heavy."
Lu Baixiang nodded. "I'm far inferior."
Chen Ping'an stopped his fists, stood still, looked around, and said with a grin, "Sui Youbian, Wei Xian, your turn."
Sui Youbian, who had been silently standing by the window, turned around and returned to the table.
Wei Xian's voice rumbled out from the room, "Unparalleled dominance."
Pei Qian squatted on the ground, holding her belly and laughing wildly. These guys still had the nerve to call her a weathercock?
Zheng Dafeng actually walked to the main door, propped himself against the doorframe, looked up at the sun, and squinted. "Finally back to life. If you'd lain any longer, you'd have gotten moldy."
Pei Qian was surprised. "Zheng Dafeng, you can walk on the ground now? Don't push yourself. If you fall flat on your face, you'll be back in bed for another ten days or half a month."
Zheng Dafeng laughed angrily. "Oh, my little ancestor, please think well of me for once!"
Pei Qian rolled her eyes. "Good intentions, but you take them for bad."
Chen Ping'an nodded to Zheng Dafeng, then sat back on the long bench. Pei Qian, very sycophantically, brought some melon seeds. The big and the small sat on the long bench, and she held out her little hand full of melon seeds, always in front of Chen Ping'an.
Zheng Dafeng walked extremely slowly, taking small steps, pacing under the eaves of the main house. He wasn't being stubborn or forcing himself to get up.
But this man kept his back hunched.
Everyone seemed not to notice this scene, each doing their own thing. Lu Baixiang took the go board and bowls to find Sui Youbian for a game. Zhu Lian turned pages. Wei Xian slept. Pei Qian accompanied Chen Ping'an eating melon seeds.
The small apothecary had a bit of New Year's flavor.
---
One day at noon, the Dust Mistletoe Apothecary actually had a visitor other than Fan Junmao and her brother.
A real customer.
It was an old man with an out-of-town accent. He bought quite a lot of medicinal herbs from the apothecary, though he grumbled that the prices were a bit high.
The Zhao Clan yin spirit could only secretly send a message to Chen Ping'an's mind, saying that he could only tell that this person was at the condensed Dragon Gate realm.
Chen Ping'an was calm. He had even fought against Du Mao, a Flying Ascension realm cultivator. Having seen great storms, he had a certain composure.
The sword spirit had conveyed some words from Old Master Wen Sheng, which helped Chen Ping'an understand some things.
The truths of the world were always there. Some people picked them up, held them as standards, and regarded them as treasures. Others scorned them, and some even trampled on them.
It wasn't that these truths were wrong or bad.
But that people's hearts had gone wrong.
The sword spirit especially said a few more words about that ancient scholarly Confucian who guarded the northern sky of Tongye Continent, saying that his outcome wasn't too good. According to the old scholar, he might lose his qualification to enjoy the cold pork head meat.
After pondering this, Chen Ping'an couldn't help but sigh at the complexity of the struggle for the Great Dao.
Even a "Virtuous Man" of the Confucian Temple, whom the Literary Saint had to admit had "done good moral essays and had no shortage of learning," had made such an "unreasonable and discourteous" move.
But then again, hadn't this one of the seventy-two Virtuous Men of the Confucian Temple contributed to the enlightenment of the Haoran World with his truths and learning?
Naturally, he had, and not a small amount.
So was it that, for his so-called "eternal great enterprise and a ten-thousand-year flourishing of culture," his targeting of Chen Ping'an meant that he had definitely taken the wrong path on his Great Dao? That he hadn't walked high enough or far enough?
No, not necessarily.
In these days, Chen Ping'an thought about these "big principles" that he had rarely considered before, since he had nothing else to do.
Now in the apothecary, the out-of-town old man was a talkative person. While selecting herbs, he chatted with Chen Ping'an, the "shopkeeper."
When paying and settling the bill, the old man, dressed like a wealthy merchant, smiled and said, "Little shopkeeper, would you like to hear a piece of advice from someone who's been there?"
The Zhao Clan yin spirit hidden in the shadows tightened his heart.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Old sir, please go ahead."
The old man looked around and said solemnly, "Good wine needs no bush—that's right and wrong. To do good business, you need young, pretty, sweet-tongued girls to help!"
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "Forget it. A quiet business is fine. We'll just get by."
The old man laughed. "So young, yet so old-fashioned. Not good."
Chen Ping'an stopped talking.
The old man sighed. "I'm an out-of-towner, as you can tell from my accent. But I've heard about the big events in Old Dragon City. That's why I came to this shop. There's no need to hide it. Neither of us is stupid. At a time like this, the locals of Old Dragon City wouldn't dare come here to court trouble. Only someone like me... a reclusive expert, right?"
Chen Ping'an laughed and cried. "Old sir, you're a straightforward person."
The old man pointed toward the corner of the street. "I'm staying at that little inn not far from here. Don't worry, I'm not some scheming character..."
He suddenly revealed the aura of a Golden Core realm cultivator. "Can you give me a discount because I'm a Golden Core Earth Immortal?"
The Zhao Clan yin spirit in the alley was again on high alert.
It was just a matter of being extremely sensitive, like a frightened bird or a nervous animal.
It had nothing to do with Golden Core or Nascent Soul.
Then the old man made this move, and the Zhao Clan yin spirit wanted to curse.
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "I can't do that. Business doesn't involve favors. If you say you want to chat to pass the time, you're welcome here."
The old man, carrying large bags of herbs, glanced at Chen Ping'an and sighed. "You're not a pretty girl either. What's there to chat about?"
Sui Youbian stood behind the bamboo curtain. When the old man released the aura of a Golden Core realm, even if only for a moment, she had rushed over quickly. But seeing Chen Ping'an "bargaining" with him, she felt a bit annoyed.
The old man caught a blurry glimpse of Sui Youbian's face and immediately turned to Chen Ping'an, saying solemnly, "I'm actually a herb merchant. I'll come to the apothecary every day from now on. Remember to open early and close late!"
Chen Ping'an nodded with a smile.
When the old man left the apothecary, his walk was a bit floaty. Was he that happy?
Sui Youbian had already returned. Wei Xian and Zhu Lian also left. Only Lu Baixiang came to the counter and asked curiously, "Just a Golden Core?"
The Zhao Clan yin spirit appeared. "Unless it's an Immortal realm, then it's really just a Golden Core."
Lu Baixiang smiled bitterly. "How many Immortal realm cultivators are there in such a large Tongye Continent?"
In the afternoon, the old man came again, beaming, and bought a pile of herbs, earning the Dust Mistletoe Apothecary over twenty taels of silver.
When he left, he was still peeking behind the bamboo curtain.
At the dinner table, Chen Ping'an concluded, "This old gentleman must get along well with Zheng Dafeng and Zhu Lian."
Zhu Lian rubbed his fists and said, "Master, if that person comes again tomorrow, I'll probe his background. Rest assured, Master. Whether he's a kindred spirit or not, I can tell after a few casual chats."
Chen Ping'an reminded him, "Remember to handle it carefully. Don't cause any trouble."
Zhu Lian smiled. "I understand. I'll keep that in mind."
The next morning, the old man walked into the alley. Seeing that the apothecary wasn't open, he honestly squatted outside.
Although Chen Ping'an was already awake, he still opened the door on time.
While Chen Ping'an was helping the old man pick herbs, Zhu Lian quietly came over. After a moment's thought, he inexplicably said, "On the street, a beautiful woman from a wealthy family."
The old man's eyes lit up. "In the embroidered tower, a young girl recites 'The Difficulty of the Shu Road.'"
Their eyes met.
No mistake—he was a kindred spirit!
It was like meeting an old friend in a foreign land.
After that, it wasn't Chen Ping'an's business anymore. The two old men whispered seriously to each other, and in the end, the Dust Mistletoe Apothecary made a full eighty taels of silver that time.
Chen Ping'an hadn't dared to eavesdrop—it was taboo—so he asked curiously, "What did you talk about that was so congenial?"
Zhu Lian grinned. "There's a jade face in the book. I swapped some book knowledge with this old senior."
As he walked toward the bamboo curtain, he clapped his fist into his palm. "Indeed, there's always someone better. This old senior has put in real effort!"
Chen Ping'an shook his head.
Got it. They really were kindred spirits.
Add to that Zheng Dafeng, who had started walking again, and things probably wouldn't be quiet.
A couple of days earlier, Zheng Dafeng had almost been struck by Sui Youbian's sword.
The reason was that his good disciple, Fan Er, had somehow gotten someone to paint a lifelike portrait of Sui Youbian. After obtaining it, Zheng Dafeng hung it on the wall of his room, almost burning incense to it every day.
Then Pei Qian snitched.
Sui Youbian went to see—it really was her portrait!
She was smiling flirtatiously? And dressed rather lightly?
If Chen Ping'an hadn't stopped Sui Youbian, Zheng Dafeng would have definitely taken a sword strike.
In the end, despite Zheng Dafeng's desperate pleas, Chen Ping'an took the portrait and sent it to Sui Youbian for her to deal with. That settled this ridiculous incident, though the grudge between Sui Youbian and Zheng Dafeng was firmly established.
Chen Ping'an, the peacemaker, didn't fare well either. Sui Youbian didn't even tear up the portrait. She sneered and said that Chen Ping'an might as well keep it, since they were all cut from the same cloth.
After thinking it over, Chen Ping'an used Old Master Wen Sheng's theory of order, grabbed Pei Qian by the ear, and made her copy fifteen hundred characters.
Fan Er was clever—after delivering the painting, he simply never showed up again. Otherwise, Chen Ping'an would have taught him what a real "bastard's punch" was.
It was the end of the year.
They needed to buy some New Year's supplies.
Fan Junmao came by once, saying that the Fan family had made private contact with the Fu family—the latter had approached them first. Fu Qi herself had come to her. Fu Qi personally promised a huge compensation for the Dust Mistletoe Apothecary.
Pei Qian, Wei Xian, and Sui Youbian went to buy New Year's goods together.
It was Pei Qian who had begged Sui Youbian.
That old man, who came every day to sit in the alley and chat with Zhu Lian for a while, was now sitting at the corner, looking very much like a reclusive expert, with his eyes watching his nose and his nose watching his heart.
Zhu Lian had been studying more diligently these days, mostly reading brand-new books with fine engravings—all gifts from that old senior. He would read by lamplight almost every night.
That night, when Pei Qian and the others returned laden with goods, Chen Ping'an closed the apothecary, sat on the long bench, and took a sip of the small-refined medicinal wine from his Sword-Nurturing Gourd.
Pei Qian had been running around and playing wildly outside all day and had gone to bed early. Of course, she hadn't dared to skip her copying.
Lu Baixiang came and sat beside him.
He chatted about some interesting mountain stories from this world.
Lu Baixiang found them very engaging and said that the martial world of Lotus Flower Blessed Land really should learn from the methods of these sect mountains here.
For example, the vendettas between cultivators here were very clean and decisive. There were a few unwritten rules on the mountains that were widely circulated.
First: For irreconcilable enemies, uproot the entire line. Second: For those young disciples with not-so-high cultivation but strangely good luck, don't give them the chance to deliver their heads or treasures. When surrounding such a person, generally go in a team. One cultivator of similar realm or the same stage for honing the Dao. If you kill them in single combat, you might absorb their karmic fortune. A temporary protector, at least one or two realms higher than the target. A cultivator of the highest cultivation to handle unexpected situations covertly. Third: If you still suffer a great loss, when it involves the sect's survival, you can no longer care about face. Give money when money is needed, give treasures when treasures are needed. Fourth: Even if a wild cultivator is incredibly powerful, it doesn't matter if you provoke them. These bastards with no backing are walking treasure troves. Once they dare to cause trouble, killing them is all profit.
Lu Baixiang concluded with a heartfelt sigh. "Truly a different world. And the way they take disciples here is so meticulous—Lotus Flower Blessed Land can't compare at all."
Then he turned his head and smiled. "For example, the way you treat Pei Qian."
Chen Ping'an hummed in acknowledgment. "Taking a disciple is very difficult. It's not about teaching them everything you know. Pei Qian—at first, I didn't want to teach her. Later, I had the intention but didn't dare. Now, I don't know how to teach."
Chen Ping'an looked up at the night sky. "Zhu Lian joked that Pei Qian is an iron-boned weathercock. Actually, I think it's fine. Children, young people, growing up—I think there are probably three stages. The grass is weak, but its roots must be firmly planted. A little wind stirs the grass—that's nothing. The green grass sways back and forth. Then comes the wild bamboo in the mountains. Some people hate it and vow to cut down ten thousand stalks of evil bamboo, but some scholars love bamboo. In this world, there's even a Bamboo Sea Paradise with a famous Green God Mountain. After that comes the green pine, standing tall and firm."
"Once, a very, very powerful swordsman traveled with me. Looking back now, the way he saw me, in nature, was the same as how I see Pei Qian now. It was a test of the heart, a silent trial."
"At that time, I had just started practicing boxing. Couldn't he have taught me advanced sword techniques? Couldn't he have given me a sip of medicinal wine steeped with demonic cores? Couldn't he have taught me superior methods for tempering the body? Couldn't he have showered me with treasures? He could have done all of that with a casual wave of his hand, without even blinking."
"But he didn't do any of it."
"Why?"
"Before, I never thought about it. Later, I thought about it, but I didn't quite understand. Only now, with Pei Qian by my side, do I kind of get it."
"Old Master Wen Sheng said that the world we live in is always so complicated. As you walk, weeds grow, temples crumble. As you walk, willows sway, peach blossoms bloom. As you walk, barren mountains and rivers, deep night. As you walk, jade towers and jade halls, shining bright."
Chen Ping'an took the last sip of medicinal wine for the night. Instantly, his face flushed crimson. The alcohol was really strong.
Chen Ping'an rarely talked about these things with outsiders. Tonight was an exception.
Because Lu Baixiang—he felt he was also a kindred spirit. It was hard to explain, just a feeling—like Yao the old man and the sage Ruan Qiong, who absolutely refused to take Chen Ping'an as a disciple. It was about the same.
Chen Ping'an secured his Sword-Nurturing Gourd, rubbed his face with both hands, exhaled a breath, misty white, and said softly, "When I look at this world, I always want to see clearly both the good and the bad—clearer. For people and matters that aren't so black and white, I try to see the good in them. It's not that I think someone is definitely wrong just because they don't like me, Chen Ping'an, or don't think well of me, or even argue with me. In your Lotus Flower Blessed Land, there was a martial arts master called Liu Zong, the Knife Grinder. He said something very interesting: 'The road beneath our feet is wide. We each walk our own path—that's fine.' I think that's really true. But tell me, how could there be no good people and bad people in the world? Beyond the big rights and wrongs, it gets blurry. They say human life is the greatest matter—that's the big right and wrong. Take that Flying Ascension realm great cultivator, Du Mao. In his life, he must have done many bad things and also some good things. Possibly, to Tongye Sect, he was an undisputed patriarch of resurgence, and countless disciples would willingly perform what they believe to be heroic sacrifices for him."
Lu Baixiang placed his hands gently on his knees and smiled. "Do you think everyone is willing, like you, to seek out hardship for themselves? To go around and around in your heart, tangled up in right and wrong? Why bother? After practicing martial arts, learning swordsmanship, and becoming an immortal, many people just want to please themselves. Being chivalrous, for the sake of friendship, killing the entire family of someone you don't know—this is seen by the martial world as heroic. How do you calculate that? For the sake of a father, breaking open a prison cart, slaughtering soldiers, cutting through them all the way, and then becoming a high official, going down in history as a great filial act, a heroic temperament—how do you calculate that? 'All under heaven wrong me, so I wrong all under heaven'—there are so many people like that. Some actually do it, others just can't but think it."
Lu Baixiang lightly patted his knees. "On the road of life, some people see a flower in the desolation. Seeing it gives them hope. Some people can't stand others' good fortune, can't stand others being right, so they can only see shit everywhere. They eat a mouthful of shit and think it tastes pretty good, and they can't stand the sight of others not eating shit. After all... you can get full on shit too."
Chen Ping'an couldn't help but ruin the mood and asked, "How do you know?"
Then he quickly said, "Forget it. I didn't ask."
Lu Baixiang gave an answer Chen Ping'an would never have guessed, "I've eaten it."
Chen Ping'an was silent.
Lu Baixiang's expression was natural. He smiled. "Wei Xian and I had similar backgrounds. Mine was actually a bit worse. I was orphaned very early. My hometown wasn't what you'd call a simple place. When I was fourteen, a local bully threw me into a cesspit. They left two people guarding it. Every time I surfaced, they'd knock me back down with bamboo poles. I had no choice. I ate my fill. After that, I sharpened a knife."
Chen Ping'an asked, "Did you stab them all?"
Lu Baixiang shook his head. "No. I bided my time. I caught the first one, who was dead drunk. After I stabbed him in the belly, my legs gave out. In the end, I was thrown into the county jail. After that, I couldn't stay in my hometown. I went out to roam the martial world—though 'martial world' was just a fancy term for scrounging a meal. Then one day, I started having one lucky encounter after another. I ate some millennium-old spiritual herb, obtained a divine martial arts manual, met many confidantes. I guess I was insecure. I had a fixation on making myself seem like a child from a prestigious family, like a scholar. I loved the word 'romantic.' But I'm pretty smart. I learn everything fast and can draw inferences. And I always want to be the best at everything I do. The only good thing is, if I can't be the best, I don't really care. I can let it go."
Chen Ping'an sighed. "I know that Zhu Lian comes from a wealthy noble family—a true bell-and-tripod clan. Sui Youbian is a bit lower, but still top-tier military stock. Through chance, they became direct disciples of the largest sect in Lotus Flower Blessed Land back then. It's hard to imagine that you're the founding patriarch of the demonic sect in Lotus Flower Blessed Land."
Lu Baixiang smiled knowingly. "The martial world. In the days when I looked down on kings and princes, whether righteous or evil, everyone in the martial world liked to give themselves a nice name. I thought, what's so special about that? If you're going to name it, just call it the Demonic Sect directly. Then do things more righteous than the righteous sects—that would be impressive. Oh, and you don't need to tell me, Chen Ping'an. I know what the Demonic Sect turned into later. I've read too many history books. History always goes around in circles—the court, the martial world, it's all the same. Occasionally, a moral sage or a martial arts genius appears, and then it steps out a bit, makes the circle bigger, and later people just go around the circle again."
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment. "Sometimes it twists and turns, with no edge."
Lu Baixiang nodded. "That's the atmosphere of a chaotic era. People are like chickens and dogs; life is like grass and mustard."
They were both silent for a long time.
Lu Baixiang asked, "By the way, I'm very curious. Why are you so obsessed with reading books and reasoning?"
"Inferiority."
"How so?"
"Lack what you want."
"Hmm?"
"Your parents leave or pass away. You live alone. It's hard to get a curse, hard to get a compliment. You just want to do things right, so the neighbors don't point fingers at you, cursing you and then cursing your parents. And you're so poor that even your pockets don't jingle. You're scared of being poor. So you like listening to people talk sense, and you like money. I don't like owing money to others, but I also don't like others owing me money."
Lu Baixiang was speechless for a long moment before saying, "That's... very down to earth."
While the two were chatting, Zhu Lian moved a low stool under the eaves to read. As the former number one of Lotus Flower Blessed Land, he had that much discernment.
Sui Youbian stood with her hands behind her back at the door.
When she heard Chen Ping'an's remark about "owing money,"
She snorted coldly and went back to her room.
Zhu Lian chuckled and continued reading.
Lu Baixiang took his leave, standing up and cupping his fists. "I'm enlightened."
Chen Ping'an waved his hand and said with a smile, "Oh, cut it out."
Suddenly, he remembered something.
Why not try a desperate remedy? Tomorrow, he'd try teaching Pei Qian the "Eighteen Stops of Sword Qi"?
But then he hesitated.
After careful thought, he decided to wait and see.
---
In that nameless little inn, the out-of-town old man who called himself a reclusive expert bathed, changed his clothes, and sat upright at the table.
He took out a large pile of scrolls—there must have been twenty-three of them.
And bowls of varying depths and shallows.
And a whole bunch of other miscellaneous items.
All of them were vessels that carried the "Mirror Flower, Water Moon" divine ability of mountain immortal sects.
If Chen Ping'an had been there, he would have recognized that, many years ago on a snowy night, the little boy in green had carefully brought out a bowl of water, then drooled as he watched the immortal Su Jia's flying sword and immortal bearing.
If that little boy in green had met this old man, he would likely have cried and called him the founding ancestor.
In fact, the little boy in green had given himself the nickname "Little Lord of the River," inspired by a certain senior. That senior, known as "Jade-Faced Little Lord," and a famous mountain guest who called himself "One-Foot Lance" were the top two figures on "their mountain"—absolute old-timers and leaders, highly respected! These two old men were bursting with heroism. Their first confrontation was over who was the number one immortal maiden in the Vial Continent: Su Jia of Zhengyang Mountain, or He Xiaoliang of Shengao Sect, who rarely showed herself. The Jade-Faced Little Lord said Su Jia—she had plenty of both immortal aura and human spirit. He Xiaoliang was beautiful, but she lacked a bit of human touch, so she wasn't perfect. One-Foot Lance angrily refuted him. Then they started throwing Lesser Heat Coins into the "white bowl of water" just to say a word and refute the other.
After the Minor Refinement stage, Spirit Snow Coins could also be thrown into various Mirror Flower, Water Moon vessels, but they lacked sufficient spiritual qi to transmit words.
They would then become the mountain and river spiritual qi of the immortal maidens' sects. Don't underestimate these individual Spirit Snow Coins. Many small sect peaks, because of a beautiful immortal maiden and her skill at attracting patrons, had seen their mountain and river spiritual qi greatly increase.
As for a single Lesser Heat Coin, it was enough to support a spender to say a few words.
In that argument between One-Foot Lance and the Jade-Faced Little Lord, they had each thrown seventy or eighty Lesser Heat Coins! That meant each had thrown seven or eight Grain Rain Coins!
They became famous in a single battle.
Countless immortal maidens of small sects hoped that these two old gods would "grace their humble abodes" and spend a fortune.
But One-Foot Lance generally said little, just silently threw money. In contrast, the Jade-Faced Little Lord was loud, and he most loved throwing money and then speaking in a loud voice. He enjoyed the enthusiastic flattery of the immortal maidens.
The old man looked at the table for a long time, then finally picked out a scroll. He opened it, and after a moment, mountain and river mist rose and spread. A modestly decorated room appeared. A young immortal maiden walked out slowly, holding a pipa, followed by a servant girl with a wooden face who silently followed, finally standing obediently in the corner.
The immortal maiden played a pipa melody. Not a single person's voice rang out in the room.
That meant no patron had thrown down a Lesser Heat Coin, or if they had, they hadn't spoken—though the latter was extremely unlikely.
The immortal maiden forced a smile and said some dry words. She wasn't a courtesan of the mundane world after all, and having just been ordered by her sect to do this kind of thing, she was still constrained.
Just then, someone suddenly asked with a laugh, "Little Lord, are you there?"
Almost instantly, someone replied coldly, "Not here."
The immortal maiden was overjoyed. She quickly stood up and performed a curtsy toward the front. "Greetings to the two immortal seniors, Little Flying Ascension and Martial Tenth Realm."
These were the aliases of One-Foot Lance and the Jade-Faced Little Lord...
The immortal maiden steadied herself after hooking two big fish. She sat back down and prepared to play a pipa song with all her heart to reward these two big spenders, who had thrown money in such an earth-shattering manner.
Her peripheral vision caught the servant girl, who was like a wooden puppet. Her eyes turned slightly cold, but she said with a smile, "Shiqiu, won't you quickly thank the two old immortals?"
The servant girl performed a curtsy.
After the immortal maiden finished playing a song, the old man in the inn threw in a Lesser Heat Coin and asked, "Little Lord, I've arrived in Old Dragon City. I'll come find you later, and we brothers will have a few good drinks."
The Little Lord's reply was quite concise: "Get lost."
The old man threw in another Lesser Heat Coin. "Why are you like this? I'll come to visit you. You don't even have to move. It won't take up a few days of your time."
Little Lord: "No time."
The old man grew anxious. "Come on! Surely you have time for a meal?"
Little Lord: "No."
The old man in the inn said angrily, "Martial Tenth Realm! You're a Qi refiner. Do you really think you're a tenth-realm martial artist?"
Little Lord: "And you call yourself Little Flying Ascension. Why don't you fly up to heaven to take a shit and piss? If you had that ability, I'd definitely be at your mountain peak, opening my mouth to catch it."
The old man in the inn changed strategy. "Little Lord, you, such a heroic man, can you bear to let me travel ten thousand miles for nothing?"
The Little Lord was silent for a moment. The old man nervously waited for an answer. Finally, the Little Lord said blandly, "Then get your ass over here."
The old man, not caring about losing face in front of the immortal maiden, said joyfully, "Thanks, thanks! Then it's settled. When I get to the gate of your gang's mountain, I'll give you the signal."
Little Lord: "Shut up."
The old man was very happy. "As you command! When we meet, we'll have a good chat, us brothers."
If any disciple of Yugui Sect, the second largest immortal sect in Tongye Continent, had seen their old sect master being so shameless and fawning, they would have probably popped their eyes out, and if they fell on the ground, they wouldn't have been able to pick them up.
---
In a few days, it would be New Year's Eve.
That night, after dinner, Pei Qian helped Zhu Lian clear the table, finished copying her books, and went to the front shop to find Chen Ping'an.
Chen Ping'an had already poured the wine that Fan Junmao had "staked" into his Sword-Nurturing Gourd. He could only drink two or three sips a day at most—more than that would harm his body and spirit.
Everything in the world was like this: too much is as bad as too little. Cherishing fortune and coveting fortune—it's all in a single thought.
Chen Ping'an had just taken a sip of the small-refined wine. His face was slightly red. Pei Qian, on the other side of the counter, stood on tiptoe, silent all the while, staring wide-eyed as Chen Ping'an drank.
Chen Ping'an put down the Sword-Nurturing Gourd and asked casually, "Do you miss Lotus Flower Blessed Land?"
Pei Qian shook her head.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Don't you miss your parents?"
Pei Qian hesitated, then still shook her head.
She asked, "Are you angry?"
Chen Ping'an didn't give a yes or no but asked instead, "Why don't you want to think about them?"
Pei Qian's expression was serene. She pouted. "I just don't feel like thinking about them."
Seeing that Chen Ping'an still didn't seem angry,
The skinny little girl leaned on the counter, slapped that talisman onto her forehead, and was silent for a long time before she slowly began to speak. "When our hometown fell into disaster, we fled. My mother starved to death on the road. My father brought me to the outskirts of the capital of Nanyuan Kingdom. All along the way, my father forced my mother to go find other men, just to trade a few bites of food. At first, my mother didn't want to, so my father grabbed her by the hair and beat her half to death. Back then, I only knew how to cry. I tried to stop him once, and he knocked me to the ground too. He was a man, strong. Later, my mother would bring back food. My father ate the most, my mother less, and I the least. Once, I woke up in the middle of the night and saw my mother sneaking out, her back to me, eating a blackened steamed bun by herself. I went back to sleep. Later, my mother seemed to get sick. My father didn't care. At first, he carried her while we walked. Then one day, he told me that my mother had starved to death. After that, my father found someone, but he couldn't sell me. He told me to steal from others. I got beaten several times. He called me stupid. So we just kept walking, walking, until we reached the outskirts of the capital. My father was a bit lucky: outside the city, the rich had set up a porridge stall, and there were big white steamed buns. My father ate fast—however it happened, it seemed he ate too much and choked to death. I just watched him. For some reason, I only had one thought: I wondered if down there, my father would catch up to my mother, if they could keep each other company."
Chen Ping'an leaned forward, reached out, and touched the little girl's head. "Get some sleep."
Pei Qian smiled. "Okay." She hopped off to bed, shouting nonsense like, "I have a talisman! Demons and monsters, begone!"
Chen Ping'an sat there alone.
After that day, Chen Ping'an became stricter and stricter with Pei Qian. He even sat beside her every day, watching her copy characters one by one.