Chapter 426: Heading South
Just as Zhu Lian felt that this ghost-catching trip probably had nothing to do with him, the gates of that manor opened, and a person walked out.
Zhu Lian couldn’t help but ask, “Young master, is that the female ghost’s lover? Quite the presence, this fellow—he looks like he’s not much worse than Xiao Luan’s White Crane River God.”
The man who walked out was tall and sturdy, clad in armor. On his arm coiled a green snake with golden eyes, and every breath he took was wreathed in white mist, thick as the incense smoke in a temple.
Chen Ping’an recognized this man. He had appeared together with Xu Ruo on the Embroidery River before. This one was most likely one of the water gods of the Embroidery River or the Jade Liquid River.
Regarding the Embroidery River, Jade Liquid River, Chess Mound Mountain, and this manor—all had their intricacies. Wei Bo had once frankly explained that these were hidden existences used to suppress the remnant fortune of the Divine Water Kingdom. Thus, even though the Embroidery and Jade Liquid River gods were also full-fledged river deities, their rank was slightly higher than Great Li water gods with similar water territories.
The Embroidery River Water God said in a deep voice, “Chen Ping’an, breaking a region’s mountains-and-rivers barrier without permission and trespassing into the Chu Manor—according to the mountain-sealing laws established by Great Li, even if you are a registered immortal master, your household registration will be revoked, your name struck from the registry, and you will be exiled a thousand miles!”
Chen Ping’an asked doubtfully, “What about Madam Chu?”
The Embroidery River Water God waved his hand. “She left the manor long ago, and this place now has a new master. Considering that you carry a Peace and Prosperity Token, and it has been recorded in the Ministry of Rites, you are permitted to leave quickly. Don’t let it happen again.”
Chen Ping’an clasped his fists and asked, “May I ask the Water God, where is Madam Chu now?”
The water god, manifesting his golden body, frowned slightly and glanced at the longsword Chen Ping’an carried on his back. “All I know is that Madam Chu went to the Lake-Viewing Academy. A scholar died there, and she wanted to collect his remains. But she definitely won’t return here anytime soon.”
Chen Ping’an sighed. It seemed this trip would be in vain. He felt a bit sorry for the two yellow paper talismans he had used. He apologized to the Water God, “This visit to Madam Chu was rash of me. I’ll be more careful next time.”
The Water God sneered, “Next time?”
Before Chen Ping’an could respond, the Water God glanced sideways at the stooped old man. “What, you think just because you’re a distant-travel martial artist, you can act with impunity?”
Zhu Lian wiped his face, turned to Chen Ping’an, and said, “Young master, I’m begging you—just let me fight this guy. His attitude is way too punchable. I’ll repay you with a gold-copper coin later, I swear.”
Chen Ping’an first gave Zhu Lian a look, signaling him not to test the situation. The bride-dress female ghost was most likely not in the manor.
Chen Ping’an said to the Water God with a smile, “We’ll leave now.”
Just then, from behind the Chu Manor, a rolling plume of black smoke surged up with great momentum. It landed and took human form—a figure in a black robe.
The Embroidery River Water God’s face was expressionless. “Estate Master Gu, aren’t you supposed to be repairing the mountain roots and water veins?”
Chen Ping’an had never expected the current estate master to be that Gu Yin God who had escorted them all the way—the father of Gu Can.
The Yin God nodded to Chen Ping’an, then smiled at the Water God in explanation, “Earlier, I sensed a cultivator breaking the barrier. Knowing that the Water God was just at the manor inspecting progress, I didn’t bother with it. But then I remembered the chaos currently erupting within Great Li territory, and worried it might be a Great Sui cultivator trying to forcibly destroy this place’s foundation. I never expected it to be an acquaintance visiting.”
The Water God squinted. “Back then, Estate Master Gu escorted Chen Ping’an to Great Sui—indeed, that counts as being well-acquainted. I wonder if Estate Master Gu intends to invite Chen Ping’an inside, set a feast, and welcome his friend?”
The Gu Yin God laughed heartily. “Now that I am the estate master, I naturally dare not neglect my duties. I’ll just exchange a few words with Chen Ping’an and then see him out of the Chu Manor territory.”
“Repairing water veins and mountain roots is meticulous work that cannot be interrupted. I hope Estate Master Gu won’t delay too long. Otherwise, I will have no choice but to follow procedure and record a demerit in the official documents.” After dropping those words, the Water God turned and strode into the manor.
The Gu Yin God clasped his fists in thanks, then came to Chen Ping’an’s side. Before the surprised Chen Ping’an could speak, he laughed loudly, “Can’t be helped. That old assignment earned me a bit of bitter merit in the Ministry of Rites, and I got a shoddy mountain god title. Nothing goes as I wish, so I can’t invite you inside.”
Chen Ping’an smiled. “It’s fine. There will be plenty of chances later. This place isn’t far from Dragon Spring Commandery.”
The Gu Yin God suddenly bowed deeply, then said with a sorrowful expression, “Last time we traveled, I left without saying goodbye. Bound by duty, I dared not speak of personal matters. Now that I am one of Great Li’s deities, though duties tie me here, I take this opportunity to no longer hide things, and to settle a lingering concern.”
With that, the Gu Yin God smiled, activated his divine powers, and made his originally hazy and indistinct features become clearer. He laughed, “Who do I resemble?”
Chen Ping’an studied him for a moment, then said in shock, “Could it be…?”
The Gu Yin God laughed heartily and clasped his fists again. “Chen Ping’an, if it weren’t for you, Gu Can wouldn’t have obtained such a great blessing! This debt is greater than the sky—even repaying it with my life wouldn’t be too much!”
Chen Ping’an seemed unable to recover for a long time. “No wonder I always felt you were secretly staring at me back then. I even mistakenly thought you had ill intentions. Uncle Gu, you should have told me earlier!”
After that, they chatted about trivial old stories from Mud Vase Alley. Soon they arrived near the mountains-and-rivers barrier. The Gu Yin God said bitterly, “I dare not break the rules. By the way, as the Water God said, the Chu Manor was poorly managed—its mountain roots and water veins are in tatters, barely holding together. I can’t leave for long. I’ll see you off here.”
Chen Ping’an asked with a smile, “I’m returning from Old Dragon City this time. Since Bamboo Slip Lake is in central Bottle Gourd Continent and the war is raging, immortal ferry boats don’t want to risk it. I plan to go to Bamboo Slip Lake soon to see Gu Can. Do you know how Gu Can is doing now? Is that River-Truncating True Lord treating him well?”
The Gu Yin God laughed heartily. “They’re both doing very well—mother and son. Little Can has become the direct disciple of that River-Truncating True Lord. Everything is worry-free. Otherwise, how could I be at ease here?”
Chen Ping’an nodded, clasped his fists, and said, “I wish Uncle Gu a speedy promotion to a higher divine rank!”
The Gu Yin God lowered his voice and reminded, “By the way, Chen Ping’an, have you heard that many immortal forces that bought up mountain peaks back home are now selling them off cheap? You’d better hurry back. Maybe you can pick up one or two peaks at a low price. Don’t miss this chance.”
Chen Ping’an smiled. “I’ve heard. I sent a flying sword message to Cloud-Garbed Mountain and asked Wei Bo to help keep an eye out.”
The Gu Yin God waved his sleeve, and a door appeared in the mountains-and-rivers barrier. Chen Ping’an stepped through, turning his head to clasp his fists in farewell.
Walking back on the mountain path, Chen Ping’an sighed emotionally, “I never would have guessed Uncle Gu became a Yin God and the estate master of this manor. I just wonder when their family of three can be reunited.”
Zhu Lian smiled faintly. “We didn’t see that bride-dress female ghost, but the trip wasn’t in vain. Just like the Chess Mound Mountain you mentioned earlier—a place where Wei Bo, as a fallen land god, once stagnated, and yet it became the place of his rise to Great Li’s Northern Marchmount True God. Truly, the world is unpredictable.”
Chen Ping’an took a deep breath. “Let’s go. To Red Candle Town.”
The two quickened their pace slightly and headed toward Red Candle Town, where Pei Qian and Shi Rou were waiting.
They walked for several dozen li beyond the mountain range, chatting idly. Zhu Lian slowed his step and, using the martial artist technique of compressing sound into a thread, suddenly asked, “Young master, what’s the plan now?”
Chen Ping’an kept a normal expression and replied via the same method, “No rush. We’ll make further plans once we reach Red Candle Town. Otherwise, Uncle Gu will be in big trouble.”
---
At the gate of the Chu Manor.
The Embroidery River Water God’s face was dark as he stared at the slowly returning estate master. “Gu Tao! I told you to stay near the manor’s main water vein and not move an inch! How dare you run out on your own?!”
The burly Water God, with the green snake coiled around his arm, gave a shake. The golden-eyed snake slithered to the ground, coiling itself into a serpent as thick as a bucket. Then it slowly crept in a large circle, enclosing its master and the estate master, before raising its head high and staring coldly at the Gu Yin God.
The Water God reached out and grabbed a refined long lance, its golden light flowing like water. He sneered, “The state preceptor has ordered that if you make any transgression, I may destroy half your soul! If you’re dissatisfied, feel free to use the Chu Manor and try to resist.”
The Gu Yin God remained motionless, his expression helpless. “I appeared only to speak that secret. It had been weighing on me for too long, and I had to get it off my chest. You came here on official orders, Water God, and you had already warned me. I accept the punishment! But before you execute it, I beg you to tell me: why can’t I even meet Chen Ping’an? I hope you can give me a clear reason. Otherwise, even if I accept the punishment, I will be resentful!”
The Embroidery River Water God stared hard at this Yin God. He wasn’t hesitating over whether to scatter half the Yin God estate master’s soul—he was deciding whether to shatter every last bit of it.
Gu Tao’s life and death hung in the balance.
Suffering was unavoidable. But for now, they did need Gu Tao to repair the Chu Manor’s fortune. After all, this place now belonged to the Northern Marchmount territory, and as the first of Great Li’s new Five Marchmounts, Wei Bo was increasingly showing the bearing of a divine sovereign. So when exactly to scatter half of Gu Tao’s soul—besides consulting the state preceptor—he also had to report to Wei Bo per Great Li’s mountains-and-waters laws.
This was the rule: the local official outweighs the distant one.
If Gu Tao hadn’t shown any sign of persuading Chen Ping’an to go to Bamboo Slip Lake—instead urging him to return home and buy mountains—then by this point, Gu Tao’s soul would have already been dispersed.
This also made sense. The rumors about Bamboo Slip Lake that Gu Tao had privately learned from Red Candle Town were precisely what Great Li’s spies wanted this estate master to know.
Without warning, the Water God hurled his lance. It pierced through the Yin God’s abdomen, slanting into the ground. The lance’s golden light blazed, burning a hole directly through Gu Tao’s body. Even though his Yin spirit had been transformed into a deity’s golden body, he still suffered a heavy blow.
Gu Tao was indeed tough; he didn’t make a sound. His face began to contort, and black smoke billowed from him.
The Water God reached out, and a scroll appeared. Within it, every scene within the Chu Manor’s mountains-and-waters territory flashed and changed according to the Water God’s will—every detail, every figure, perfectly clear.
He opened another scroll—this one of the Embroidery River’s territory.
His tone was cold and hard. “If I suspect even the slightest hint, I would rather kill you by mistake.”
Gu Tao, with the golden lance still piercing his abdomen, raged, “Are you insane?! Would the State Preceptor allow you to act so wantonly?! Do you think I don’t know that you’ve harbored feelings for Madam Chu for hundreds of years?! Now that I’ve taken over her manor, you’ve taken a dislike to me and want me dead! If you want to convict a man, you’ll never lack a charge. Fine, fine, fine—I’ve now witnessed the true magnanimity of the Embroidery River Water God!”
The Water God paid no attention to the furious Gu Tao. He only stared at the scroll showing Chen Ping’an and Zhu Lian, observing their expressions, their conversation, unwilling to miss a single detail.
As for what the State Preceptor was plotting, the Embroidery River Water God had not the slightest interest—nor did he dare delve into it. Not even a fraction.
For over a century in Great Li,
Whenever the State Preceptor, who always stood in the shadow of the emperor, stepped into the light, it brought a storm of blood. Heads rolled without exception—whether powerful nobles, grand clans, or mountain immortals. Whether they were pivotal ministers in the central court, regional governors, or earth immortals,
They either vanished without a trace or ended up worse than dead.
The Water God beckoned, calling the lance back to his hand. “Return to the manor’s depths at once. Continue repairing the local fortune and await judgment. Your life or death—pray for yourself.”
Gu Tao covered his abdomen, his golden body wounded, his cultivation damaged. The Yin God was in agony. “You should know roughly where I come from. This matter is far from over!”
The Water God’s expression was indifferent. “Our Great Li’s greatest support is the law that the State Preceptor helped His Majesty establish.”
---
Along the gently flowing Embroidery River, they arrived at the still-bustling Red Candle Town.
Here, in a bookshop, Chen Ping’an had once bought Li Huai a copy of *The Great Cliff Splits the Water*.
Pei Qian and Shi Rou were staying at the same inn Chen Ping’an had used before.
Once inside the room, Pei Qian, who had been about to tell her master all the fun things about Red Candle Town, glanced at Chen Ping’an and immediately fell silent.
Zhu Lian closed the door and stood near the window. Chen Ping’an began to say nothing.
His first words cut straight to the point: “I plan not to return to Dragon Spring Commandery right away. Zhu Lian, you escort Pei Qian and Shi Rou to Fallen Mountain. There’s an immortal ferry port in the Yellow Court Kingdom. I’ll try there, see if there’s a boat to Bamboo Slip Lake. If not, I’ll walk to Bamboo Slip Lake. Once I’m at Dragon Spring Commandery, it’ll only be harder to leave.”
Zhu Lian thought for a moment, then said slowly, “This old servant knows a passable disguise technique. How about I pretend to be you, young master, and you pretend to be someone else? Then, at a suitable opportunity, you leave Red Candle Town first, and we stay a few more days. It won’t fool everyone for sure, but it’s better than nothing.”
Shi Rou was completely confused.
Pei Qian was even more bewildered.
Zhu Lian said softly, “Young master, you yourself said it: don’t rush anything. Take it slow.”
Chen Ping’an smiled. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
Zhu Lian nodded. “Still, you’re meticulous, young master. Otherwise, by the time we got to Dragon Spring Commandery, Cui Dongshan would have already won that battle of wits.”
From the moment the Embroidery River Water God appeared first, and Uncle Gu came later, Chen Ping’an had sensed something familiar.
So Chen Ping’an chose to stay silent, waiting for Uncle Gu to speak first, rather than blurting out “Uncle Gu.”
Sure enough.
Uncle Gu’s words had a hidden meaning—that “first” revelation of being Gu Can’s father.
And Chen Ping’an went along with Uncle Gu’s act.
That “kind reminder” to return to Dragon Spring Commandery and buy mountain peaks?
That “mother and son are worry-free in Bamboo Slip Lake”?
Chen Ping’an just had to take it all in reverse.
Beyond that, the two shared a tacit understanding: they would absolutely not say one extra word, not exchange a single extra glance.
Because that Embroidery River Water God was definitely spying on them from the shadows.
Next, Zhu Lian began to help refine the details. For example, tonight they would go drink at a unique Red Candle Town establishment—the boat-girl flower wine. There, with many people and eyes, it would be perfect for someone to keep watch. Chen Ping’an would remove the golden robe he had to wear to Bamboo Slip Lake, change into a blue shirt, so that later, when Zhu Lian impersonated him and headed to Fallen Mountain, the absence of the golden robe wouldn’t be too conspicuous.
Zhu Lian and Chen Ping’an went over every detail, filling in each other’s gaps.
Pei Qian sat obediently to the side, not interrupting with jokes at a time like this.
Shi Rou guarded the window.
She no longer thought that Zhu Lian’s suggestion to drink flower wine was an excuse for self-indulgence.
That night, Chen Ping’an and Zhu Lian left the inn and drank flower wine. Chen Ping’an sat upright and proper. Zhu Lian was in his element, chatting with the boat girl until she felt the bittersweet lament of “if only you were born when I was young.”
The next day, Chen Ping’an took Pei Qian around Red Candle Town, buying all sorts of odds and ends—as if, since he was near home and winter was coming, he could start preparing for the new year’s goods.
A nondescript middle-aged man slipped away from Red Candle Town unnoticed.
He didn’t take a ferry down the Embroidery River. Instead, he took a busy official road to the border. Near the pass, instead of crossing into Yellow Court Kingdom with a travel permit, he easily scaled the rugged mountains like a wilderness rogue immortal who disliked restraint, and then traveled day and night.
Travel-worn, he arrived at an immortal ferry port in Yellow Court Kingdom. The middle-aged man didn’t ask the ferry port clerks. Instead, through casual conversation, he learned that there were currently no ferries directly to Bamboo Slip Lake—that route had long ceased. So he chose a boat heading to a place called Gusu Mountain. It was said that along with a transfer at Gusu Mountain, he could reach a vassal kingdom of Zhu Ying Dynasty, and from there, he would have to walk to Bamboo Slip Lake.
The man paid a sum of spirit coins, got a private cabin, and kept a low profile.
When he reached Gusu Mountain, he heard more bad news: even the ferry to that vassal kingdom of Zhu Ying Dynasty had now stopped.
The man stayed at Gusu Mountain for a day, wandering around. Finally, he threw down an extravagant sum—far above market price—paid half up front, and directly hired a private boat that didn’t seem too keen to follow the rules. Amid the boat owner’s flattering yet obvious “I’m fleecing a fool” look, the man boarded the ferry. He was the only passenger.
Wolves surrounded him.
Whether the man was too inexperienced to notice, or bold enough to deliberately ignore them, one couldn’t tell.
When the ferry announced it needed to stop for resupply, the man finally left his cabin. He had changed into a white robe, carried a sword on his back, wore a hairpin, and had a wine gourd at his waist.
He went straight to the boat owner—an old cultivator at the Sea-Viewing realm. He tapped the vermilion wine gourd, which to most cultivators was just a gourd, and a flying sword shot out from the Sword-Nurturing Gourd. “Spirit coins are easy to earn, but if you lose your life, it’s gone.”
The old itinerant cultivator, who had indeed been planning to rob and kill, saw he had been seen through and stopped pretending. He glanced at the gourd and smiled. “You probably don’t know our business, guest. A Sword-Nurturing Gourd is worth more than my life and this boat combined. Do you really think…”
Before the old cultivator could finish, a flying sword flashed past.
The old cultivator, after all, was a wilderness rogue who had climbed to the Sea-Viewing realm. He wasn’t unfamiliar with sword immortals—one of the four most troublesome professions in the cultivation world. He even had a treasured life-bound artifact that could provide some counterbalance.
But just as he barely dodged the first sword using his life-bound artifact, a second sword from the gourd stabbed into the center of his brow.
Not enough to kill, but if it moved even a little deeper, his life would be forfeit.
As the old Sea-Viewing cultivator was shocked that a sword immortal had two life-bound flying swords,
A punch arrived.
It sent all the spiritual energy in the old man’s qi palaces roiling like boiling water.
Another punch.
The old cultivator, whose body was tempered by spiritual energy to roughly the level of a fourth-rank martial artist, was knocked down—he vomited bile, unable to rise.
Both flying swords pierced into the old man’s two life-bound qi palaces, churning and shattering them, causing the Sea-Viewing boat owner to immediately fall back to the Cave Dwelling realm, wailing in agony.
The man looked around, picked a chair, and sat down. To the others, he said, “Keep moving.”
From then on, the old cultivator sat in a corner of the not-too-spacious room, while the two flying swords slowly hovered around him.
The guest just sat there, reading books.
The old cultivator mustered his courage and asked if he could tend to his wounds on the spot, lest he lose even his Cave Dwelling realm foundation.
The man nodded, without objection.
After that, the man read one book after another, occasionally dozed off, sometimes stood up and paced slowly, and threw slow punches.
When the ferry reached the largest vassal kingdom of the Zhu Ying Dynasty, the man gave the remaining half of the spirit coins before disembarking.
He asked the dispirited old cultivator for the general direction of Bamboo Slip Lake, then took the sword from his back—sheath and all—and tossed it into the air.
He flew off on his sword toward Bamboo Slip Lake.