Chapter 435: A Name in the Story
Ruan Xiu put away the "bracelet" once more. A fiery dragon, seemingly exquisite and cute, coiled around her wrist, its true form emitting faint snoring sounds. In the battle at Furong Mountain, there had been two Golden Core Earth Immortals alone, and she had also devoured a youth blessed with abundant martial fortune, leaving her somewhat overstuffed.
Ruan Xiu asked a question that caught Old Master Song off guard. "Can I take some Furong stones back to Longquan County? I want to open a shop selling seal stones and feng shui stones in the alleyways of the little town."
This Director Song of the Ministry of Rites, renowned in the Great Li court for his quick wit—once engaging in a famed courtly exchange with the emperor himself, "within the time it takes a stick of incense to burn, thirty-seven questions and answers between sovereign and minister"—now found himself struggling to keep up with Miss Ruan's train of thought. After a moment's deliberation, he smiled and said, "As long as Miss Ruan's Storage Treasure is large enough, you could even hollow out the entire Furong Mountain without issue."
Upon receiving her answer, Ruan Xiu immediately instructed Dong Gu and Xu Xiaoqiao to begin "chiseling the mountain." As the two junior disciples toiled away like old farmers tilling the land, Ruan Xiu said to the old man, "Old Mr. Song, rest assured, I won't let you make this trip for nothing. On our way back to Great Li, if we take the same route, passing through that Green Paulownia City we stopped at on Shujian Lake, I'll help you find three suitable candidates for Dao cultivation. Together, they should be about as good as one... Xu Xiaoqiao, what's his name again?"
From a distance, Xu Xiaoqiao said softly, "Han Jin."
Ruan Xiu nodded. "Right, they won't be inferior to this Han Jin. One is the grandson of the old man selling crispy cakes at the Earth God Temple in Green Paulownia City—closest to us. Another is a little girl I gave a sugar figurine to at the sweet vendor's stall near Sweet Dew Temple in the Stone Brush Kingdom—the one with two adorable red splotches on her cheeks. The last one is a local kid I met at a ferry crossing called Palanquin Stop, where I bought a big bag of yellow laurel persimmon cakes. He challenged me to an eating contest back then, but ended up with a toothache, crying all the way home to his parents."
The three Sticky Pole Agents of Great Li found it hard to believe. Was this not a joke?
Unexpectedly, Director Song nodded. "Once Mr. Dong and Miss Xu have dug enough from Furong Mountain, we'll first return to the Earth God Temple in Green Paulownia City and find that child named Tong Shan."
The Sticky Pole Agent immediately understood. Since even Director Song had remembered the child's name, it was clear that the boy was a piece of exceptional jade for Dao cultivation.
Ruan Xiu looked up toward Gongliu Island. As she made this move, the fire dragon on her wrist, which had been planning to "hibernate," opened its eyes and lifted its head, looking in the same direction.
Certain descendants of ancient true dragons had an innate fondness for cannibalizing their own kind. In the history of the ancient Shu Kingdom, such ferocious beings were often the first targets for traveling sword immortals during their training expeditions.
Xu Xiaoqiao suddenly spoke up. "Senior Sister, Master instructed us that, aside from official matters, Senior Sister is not permitted in Shujian Lake to..."
Xu Xiaoqiao paused here, glancing at the black-robed youth Dong Gu.
During this Furong Mountain expedition, it was this second senior brother of their sect who had revealed his true form to forcefully break through the formation barrier. He had been severely injured, breaking one of his fangs and losing at least forty to fifty years of cultivation.
Dong Gu, with a straight face, filled in the two words Xu Xiaoqiao dared not utter: "Do as she pleases."
Ruan Xiu looked around, somewhat regretful. "Then I'll save the rest for later."
Dong Gu and Xu Xiaoqiao both nodded simultaneously. Old Master Song also nodded in unison.
Ruan Xiu watched their synchronized movements, finding it amusing, and laughed. "What are you doing, pecking at rice like chicks?"
Her laugh caused that young Sticky Pole Agent, who had already developed feelings for Ruan Xiu, to become dazed and utterly captivated.
---
On Ape Cry Street in the city of Pond Water, which specialized in selling immortal artifacts, an old man in a long blue gown walked along. His appearance was plain, his demeanor ordinary, like a wealthy elder from a well-to-do family. With two fingers, he repeatedly rubbed a Snowflake Coin as he strolled, looking around but never buying anything. Fortunately, Ape Cry Street was full of strange people and odd events, so no one paid much attention to this tall, thin old man.
The old man stopped at a shop. The owner, an old shopkeeper who had been enjoying some recent success, was sipping wine. Two small dishes accompanied his drink: salted peanuts and silverfish strips, a specialty of Shujian Lake. He saw the old man in the long gown but didn't even bother to lift his eyelids.
The old man seemed somewhat regretful and asked curiously, "Shopkeeper, that big imitation Canal-Startle Sword—sold? Oh, and the painting of court ladies—sold too? Did you run into a rich fool?"
This old shopkeeper, guarding his ancestral shop, had a peculiar temperament and was never good at business. If it were an ordinary shopkeeper encountering such a blunt customer, they would have rolled their eyes or kicked him out. But this old shopkeeper did the opposite; he became interested instead. He chuckled, "As a matter of fact, it was the same customer. An outlander who knows his stuff. Not really a rich fool—one can't put a price on a true heart's desire."
The old man clicked his tongue. "Not bad, not bad. Far inferior to your great-grandfather's business acumen, but your luck is much better. To manage to sell those—I thought they'd collect dust for another hundred years or so."
The old shopkeeper eyed the stranger. "Quite the bold talk. Which island master or immortal teacher from Shujian Lake are you? Hah, if I recall correctly, any island master with even a bit of skill is currently holed up on Gongliu Island. They wouldn't have the leisure to come here and play the old immortal."
The old man said gloomily, "Several hundred people eating and shitting on Gongliu Island—it might as well be a cesspit."
The old shopkeeper found this amusing. "Those flying immortals aren't like us mortals. Gongliu Island won't turn into a latrine. Besides, who cares what that graveyard of a place becomes after the alliance meeting is over?"
The old man sighed. "I care quite a bit."
The old shopkeeper grew more intrigued. "Old brother, care for a drink?"
The old man shook his head. "Not much better than pig slop. I'll pass."
The old shopkeeper laughed and cursed good-naturedly. "Kindness repaid with ingratitude! Fine, don't drink then. But your rotten temper suits my taste. Feel free to look around the shop. If you find anything you like, I'll give you ten percent off."
The old man waved his hand and walked out of the shop.
He finished strolling through the entire Ape Cry Street. Having been away from Shujian Lake for too long, everything had changed, and he no longer saw a single familiar face. Leaving Ape Cry Street, he entered a quiet alley secluded from the noise of Pond Water City. At the end, he took out a key and opened a courtyard door, revealing a hidden world within.
No one lived there, but someone was responsible for maintaining it regularly, and they did so with extreme diligence and care. Thus, the secluded residence, with its winding corridors and deep gardens, remained spotlessly clean.
The old man entered a waterside pavilion and pushed open a window. Listening closely, he could hear the sound of spring water striking stone, a cool and crisp murmuring.
About half an hour later, a wealthy-looking old man from Pond Water City, who was otherwise unknown, arrived outside the pavilion. Bending respectfully, he said, "Junior Wang Guanfeng of Unsuccessful Lane pays respects to Old Ancestor Liu."
The old man turned around and smiled. "You're the great-great-grandson of the King Water Department of the Stone Brush Kingdom, aren't you? Come in and sit. Your Wang clan once had a kindness toward me. My personality—the successive clan heads of the Pond Water City branch of the Wang clan, who moved out from Stone Brush Kingdom, should know it better than many young people in Shujian Lake now. So there's no need to be so constrained."
Inside the pavilion, there was no excessive decoration—just a few white rush cushions laid on the floor. Wang Guanfeng, who was actually wealthier than the Fan clan, the city lords of Pond Water City, sat nervously on one of the cushions. He did not presume too much just because the old man was amiable.
The old man surnamed Liu asked about the state of Shujian Lake over the past century. Wang Guanfeng answered each question.
After hearing about the recent situation on Gongliu Island, the old man chuckled. "Even as far away as Bee Tail Ferry, I've heard of the fearsome reputations of Liu Zhimao of Green Gorge Island and his disciple Gu Can."
Wang Guanfeng carefully considered his words before replying. "Currently, the Great Li Song clan and the Zhu Ying dynasty are wrestling over Shujian Lake. We've bet on Green Gorge Island. The Zhu Ying dynasty seems to have chosen an alliance of three islands: Green Tomb, Heavenly Grandmother, and Rice Grain. The leader is a ninth-realm sword cultivator from the Zhu Ying royal family, who has some connection to Oriole Island. However, where this person is hiding now is untraceable. But within the Zhu Ying dynasty, there is disagreement over whether to recruit or kill Gu Can; no unified opinion has been reached. Hence, the earlier assassination attempt in Pond Water City—some faction within Zhu Ying—suffered a major loss. Liu Zhimao himself remains at the Nascent Soul stage, with no signs of breaking through. However, the flood dragon subordinate beside Gu Can has already reached the Nascent Soul stage and possesses astonishing combat power. Even Liu Zhimao is wary of it. It may eventually grow too big to control, and Liu and Gu may end up splitting Shujian Lake between them. But all of this is the result of the old ancestor standing by and watching."
The old man smiled and asked, "That little devil Gu Can—they say he's undefeated throughout Shujian Lake?"
Wang Guanfeng sensed some hidden meaning and cautiously asked, "Does the old ancestor want us to switch our bet to the Zhu Ying dynasty?"
The old man shook his head. "That's a separate matter. Half of Liu Zhimao's current glory comes from Gu Can and that Nascent Soul flood dragon. Let him sit on the throne of Shujian Lake's martial world for a few days. When Gu Can dies, Liu Zhimao will be crippled. Then everyone will jump on the fallen wall. Two hundred years ago, Shujian Lake belonged to whom? In another two hundred years, it will belong to the same."
The old man smiled. "When did the wild cultivators of Shujian Lake become so unafraid of death? A snot-nosed kid throwing his weight around?"
Wang Guanfeng explained, "The Zhu Ying dynasty might not be averse to the idea of recruiting Gu Can to check Liu Zhimao. Otherwise, they wouldn't allow Gu Can to act with such unchecked arrogance. But that flood dragon's growth speed—reaching the Nascent Soul stage from Earth Immortal in less than three years—is truly beyond comprehension and has indeed stunned us all."
The old man was clearly not one to harshly berate his subordinates. He nodded. "That's not your fault. I was traveling with two friends recently, and we discussed this matter. Even they, with their high cultivation and keen insight, felt the same way as you, Wang Guanfeng—essentially, 'beyond comprehension'."
"Betting on Liu Zhimao is fine. If you're not afraid I'll swindle your Wang clan's silver, then go ahead and stake everything you have."
Finally, the old man laughed. "As for that Gu Can, I'll kill him myself when the time comes. All you need to do is play deaf and dumb, watch from the sidelines, and wait to collect your money."
Wang Guanfeng swallowed hard.
The old man's expression turned indifferent. "Since we are all wild cultivators of the mountains and marshes, no one's life is worth more than another's. There is no one who can kill all the way from start to finish. At least not in Shujian Lake, and not by my standards."
Wang Guanfeng prostrated himself on the ground.
Shujian Lake did have rules. The old-timers of Shujian Lake simply didn't bring them up, and the young people didn't know.
---
The old woman serving as the gatekeeper at the ghost cultivator's mansion had recently found a bit of vitality in her existence: she looked forward every day to the young accountant's visits.
Even though Mr. Chen always came and went in a hurry, never stopping long at the gate, only greeting her before leaving, and rarely exchanging even half a sentence of small talk, the old woman, named Red Crisp—neither fully human nor ghost—still felt somewhat happy.
One day, after the accountant had left, she stood at the mansion gate, leaning against the doorframe and gazing at his retreating figure, so absorbed that she didn't notice her master appearing beside her. When she suddenly realized, Master Ma, the ghost cultivator, snorted coldly. "What, still hoping a sparrow can turn into a phoenix? Hoping Chen Ping'an, a man of such high status, will notice you and take you on as a maidservant?"
She quickly curtsied to the ghost cultivator, looking pitiful. "Master jokes. This servant would never dare to harbor such delusions, which would deserve being struck by lightning."
The ghost cultivator tossed out a small bag of spirit money. "This Chen Ping'an will be visiting frequently in the near future. One Snowflake Coin a day will be enough to restore your appearance to what it was before you died, and maintain it for about ten days. I don't want him thinking that our Crimson String Mansion is a Yama's palace, unable to even afford a living gatekeeper."
She held the bag of spirit money in both hands and bowed in thanks.
Of course, she had no romantic feelings toward that young and gentle accountant. In this world, a woman, beautiful or ugly, does not necessarily fall for a man just because he is good. Nor does she necessarily fail to like him because he is not good. The Old Man under the Moon who ties the red threads between lovers must surely be an old rogue, she thought.
Red Crisp, with her hair still black but her face aged, was simply too bored guarding this gate day after day, year after year, in that lifeless mansion. Having finally seen a young man, she naturally wanted to cherish the encounter.
The ghost cultivator, who rarely spoke much, unexpectedly lingered at the gate today, gazing at the vast lake view beyond Green Gorge Island, a troubled expression on his face.
Previously, Liu Zhimao had fought fiercely with the old island master of Heavenly Grandmother Island, nearly beating his brains into a white rice porridge for a midnight snack on Gongliu Island. Although this outwardly boosted the morale of Green Gorge Island's allies, sharp-eyed observers knew that the tragedy at Furong Mountain—whether or not Liu Zhimao was behind it—had dealt a significant blow to his path toward the throne of Shujiang Lake's underworld king. He had unknowingly lost the support of many minor island masters.
Because Shujian Lake had two enduring golden rules: one was "side with kin, not with reason"; the other was "side with the weak, not the strong."
Thus, the atmosphere around Green Gorge Island had been somewhat tense lately. The number of banquets among the twelve major islands had decreased significantly.
Chen Ping'an continued to shuttle among the Crimson String Mansion, Moon Hook Island, and Jade Pot Island. Yu Gui of Moon Hook Island was the most easygoing, making business go most smoothly. The great Yin-Yang family cultivator of Jade Pot Island was also acceptable; though not warm, his straightforward merchant manner was actually easier for Chen Ping'an to accept. But Master Ma, the ghost cultivator with the lowest cultivation among them, remained adamant: unless Chen Ping'an could convince Liu Chongrun of Pearl Hairpin Island, there was no deal. So Chen Ping'an, like a matchmaker, frequently traveled to Pearl Hairpin Island. Liu Chongrun was even tougher than the ghost cultivator: if Chen Ping'an didn't mention that "rice-bearer," he was a honored guest of Pearl Hairpin Island, with good wine, fine tea, and beautiful women waiting at Treasure Pearl Pavilion. But if he came as a lobbyist for that former lowly servant of the Liu royal family, he need not even enter the island's gate.
The stubborn Chen Ping'an indeed never crossed the gate. Each time, he would say a few words to Liu Chongrun at the ferry and then row back.
In fact, the two could have had a proper conversation. They had spent nearly three hundred years wandering in Lotus Flower Blessed Land, witnessing countless matters of officialdom and royal courts. But now, Chen Ping'an didn't want to be distracted and couldn't afford to be. When the day came for him to leave Shujian Lake, he would definitely visit Pearl Hairpin Island and ask Liu Chongrun—this female cultivator who had once nearly become the first female emperor of Treasure Bottle Continent—about some doubts in his heart.
However, although he hadn't successfully obtained those yin souls from the ghost cultivator, their mutual sparring in ghostly Dao techniques was more meaningful than gossiping for two hours with the slick Yu Gui. As for the Yin-Yang family cultivator on Jade Pot Island, he was taciturn. Even if Chen Ping'an wanted to chat, he couldn't pry open his mouth. So Chen Ping'an still visited Crimson String Mansion more often. Since it was on Green Gorge Island, after dinner strolls often found him arriving at the mansion before he had even finished thinking through a matter, just by looking up.
One day, as dusk fell, Chen Ping'an had just visited the Sword Room to retrieve a secret letter sent via flying sword, and then came to Crimson String Mansion to relax.
Fan Junmao of Old Dragon City had replied, but with only four words: "No comment available."
Chen Ping'an was at a loss.
The future Southern Marchmount True Deity of Great Li, a first-rank god of the continent on par with Wei Bo—and Fan Junmao, who was far more petty than Wei Bo—was someone he couldn't afford to offend.
However, Chen Ping'an had made it very clear in the letter he sent that he was asking a favor and that they were also doing business. Fan Junmao should not have responded this way.
Today, as usual, Chen Ping'an greeted the "old woman" gatekeeper and then went to find the ghost cultivator Ma.
He didn't stop or chat more. Red Crisp, whose appearance had already been restored to that of a forty-year-old woman, didn't feel disappointed. She thought it was fine. Strangely, she felt more at ease this way.
After Chen Ping'an left Crimson String Mansion that day, he found Gu Can and the little loach standing at the end of a small path, asking if Chen Ping'an was free tonight. Gu Can said his mother had made a home-cooked meal.
Chen Ping'an said he couldn't make it tonight; he needed to visit two islands farther from Green Gorge Island. By the time he returned, it would be very late, so even a midnight snack was out of the question.
Gu Can looked disappointed.
Chen Ping'an said nothing more.
Gu Can saw Chen Ping'an to the door of the house outside the mountain gate, then suddenly asked, "Chen Ping'an, you actually have some reservations about my mother, don't you?"
Chen Ping'an rubbed his head. "Don't overthink these things. If there's really something, I'll find time and opportunity to talk with your aunt. But as far as you're concerned, I will never say anything bad about your mother."
Gu Can seemed to half-understand, then left with the little loach.
Chen Ping'an walked back into the house and buried himself in his desk work.
---
Inside the tall building in Pond Water City.
Cui Chan put down a secret letter.
He rubbed his brow, pondering deeply.
Cui Dongshan remained inside that golden lightning pool, not having moved a single step, but was currently imitating Chen Ping'an's Heaven and Earth Stance.
The trends of the world and the ebb and flow of human hearts—all have traces to follow. This had always been a subject Cui Chan studied deeply, a personal scholarship.
Cui Chan muttered to himself, "On one hand, Chen Ping'an arrived earlier than expected. This is because Gu Tao's brain, and of course Chen Ping'an's, were both better than the Water God of Embroidered River. As a result, the possibility of Ruan Xiu and Gu Can mutually harming each other in Shujian Lake was nipped in the bud. But this was part of Chen Ping'an's plan to break the deadlock. Even if you weren't here, I wouldn't have stopped it."
"On the other hand, I slightly underestimated Gu Can's composure. He didn't act rashly, didn't use that loach to provoke Ruan Xiu that night. As for Ruan Xiu's favorable impression of Chen Ping'an, which diverted her attention from the loach, and the ambition of Liu Laocheng, the master of Gongliu Island—both were greater than I imagined. These are not insignificant variables."
"According to the deductions from the incident at Riding Dragon Lane back then, one can roughly conclude that Ruan Xiu is a being of great importance to the Old Divine Lord, even more so than Li Liu or Fan Junmao. She is very likely that one of the great primordial spirits of the divine path. Hence, she can see the karmic retribution on a person. With her present, Chen Ping'an essentially knows the exam questions in advance. The fourth difficulty, which is 'countless difficulties,' can be reduced by about half. Yet I still let Ruan Xiu, who had found numerous excuses to linger in Green Paulownia City and refuse to move, stay in Shujian Lake with proper justification, so that you would lose with conviction."
Having said this, Cui Chan smiled at Cui Dongshan.
Liu Laocheng had secretly entered the territory of Shujian Lake but still hadn't communicated through any channel with Great Li's intelligence network.
This showed that Liu Laocheng, this Upper Five Realm wild cultivator, after striking up a relationship with Old Sect Master Xun Yuan of Jade Pendant Sect, had decided to burn his bridges and bet everything he owned in Shujian Lake as a pledge of allegiance for Jade Pendant Sect to establish a branch sect here. Generally speaking, allowing Liu Zhimao of Green Gorge Island to unify Shujian Lake, Liu Laocheng, as the master of Gongliu Island and with many hidden old connections, would not lose out; he might even gain a little. The lion's share would go to Liu Zhimao and the behind-the-scenes Great Li Song clan. But as a wild cultivator born in the mountains, with a fifty-fifty chance in a great gambling game, who wouldn't bet? Let alone Liu Laocheng, the number one wild cultivator of Treasure Bottle Continent. Even if Liu Zhimao's wings were fully grown, facing the deeply entrenched Liu Laocheng, if the latter disrupted the game, the former might not be willing to risk mutual destruction.
This was the general trend.
Liu Laocheng had it.
For one man to monopolize a trend of the times—how difficult is that?
Liu Zhimao was far from that. Half his achievements depended on his disciple Gu Can and a beast. The bit of momentum he had amassed, like a woman scrimping and saving, could it compare to Liu Laocheng, a single-handed, blood-soaked old turtle? Their cultivation, temperament, and methods were not on the same level. If Liu Zhimao were given another one or two hundred years to manage his territory, accumulate connections, and break through to the Upper Five Realm, then he might compare.
Conversely, Liu Laocheng was a local hero whom even Cui Chan admired.
Cui Dongshan walked upside-down, casually saying, "If Ruan Xiu stays in Shujian Lake, you can still go with the flow. The variables caused by one or two key pieces acting on their own won't fundamentally hinder the grand strategy. They can still be turned into the trend you desire."
Cui Dongshan flipped his body, stood upright, and said with a carefree expression, "Find an excuse for that Song fellow and get them to leave Green Paulownia City quickly."
Cui Chan smiled and asked, "Why is that? It's clear you stand to gain a little. You're giving that up?"
Cui Dongshan vigorously rubbed his cheeks. "Of course, I want to gamble big! If I lose, I'll be broke. If I win, I'll leave Cliff Academy and scheme for your grand strategy south of Treasure Bottle Continent."
Now Cui Chan was truly puzzled and had to ask, "And why is that?"
Cui Dongshan shamelessly replied, "Because I like it! I just love seeing you calculate and calculate, only to find that you've calculated nothing."
Cui Chan laughed heartily. "Then you'll be disappointed."
Cui Dongshan threw a flurry of wild punches and turned the question back: "Why?"
Cui Chan said with a sly smile, "Guess."
Cui Dongshan suddenly asked, "If Liu Laocheng kills Gu Can, doesn't this whole game end anticlimactically?"
Cui Chan countered, "Who really needs to be anxious? Me? Or you?"
Cui Dongshan grinned.
Cui Chan smiled slightly. "Well then, I'll say something that spoils the mood. If Chen Ping'an begins to face those countless wronged ghosts openly, there will definitely be all sorts of interesting developments. Among them, even if only one ghost or one of its living relatives confronts Chen Ping'an and says, 'Apologize? Not needed. Compensation? Also not needed. I just want to trade life for life. Can you do that?' At that moment, how will Chen Ping'an deal with it? How will he get past this hurdle? And this is only one of the countless difficulties."
Cui Dongshan hopped and skipped, covering his ears with both hands. "Can't hear, can't hear. The old turtle's chanting is really unpleasant."
---
At the gate of Crimson String Mansion.
That day, Chen Ping'an sat on the threshold. The woman named Red Crisp, for some reason, no longer relied on absorbing one Snowflake Coin's spiritual energy each day to maintain her appearance. She quickly reverted to the old woman's face from their first meeting.
Then, on that day, Chen Ping'an suddenly took out paper and brush, smiling as he said he wanted to ask her about some old stories. He didn't know if it was appropriate. He meant nothing else by it, and he hoped she wouldn't misunderstand.
Before answering his questions, she stood at the doorway of the dark room and smiled as she asked, "Mr. Chen, are you truly a scholar from one of the Hundred Schools?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "I'm not. But I have a friend who enjoys writing travelogues of mountains and rivers, and writes very well. I hope that some of my experiences, in the future, can be told to that friend when we reunite. Or I can jot them down and show them to him."
She smoothed her skirt, quickly walked over to Chen Ping'an, and asked, "May I sit down?"
Chen Ping'an replied helplessly, "This is your home, you know."
She smiled and sat down, still keeping some distance from Chen Ping'an.
She felt a bit embarrassed. "Mr. Chen, I should warn you in advance, I don't have many stories to tell. After you hear them, you'll probably be disappointed. Also, can my name truly appear in a book?"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Of course, as long as you don't mind. And after we finish talking, you must remind me which stories can be written and which cannot. Which people and events should be written in detail and which in brief. I'll give all due instructions to that friend."
She clasped her hands tightly on her knees, her eyes bright and spirited.
Chen Ping'an looked at her with a full smile, his gaze gentle and clear, as if looking at a fine young lady.
She quickly stood up, performed a lively and graceful curtsy, then sat down again, her smile blooming like a flower.
She began to recount her story, and surprisingly, she recalled many people and events she had thought she had long forgotten.
Chen Ping'an wrote them all down.
Occasionally, when she tired of talking, she would, without any sense of impropriety, stare directly at the pale-faced accountant as he bent his head earnestly writing.
Finally, Chen Ping'an put away his brush and paper and clasped his hands in thanks.
She covered her mouth, giggling uncontrollably, then whispered, "Mr. Chen, remember to tell your friend that it must be published as a block-printed book! If necessary, I can contribute a few Snowflake Coins."
Chen Ping'an wrinkled his face. "How could I bear to take such ill-gotten money? Don't worry, my friend has the funds. Besides, you should believe in his writing skills; surely some bookshop will be willing to buy the manuscript."
After Chen Ping'an left.
The gatekeeper "old woman" was still smiling, unable to help herself from hopping in place once.
Then she found her master, the master of Crimson String Mansion, standing beside her.
She quickly suppressed her smile.
Unexpectedly, the stern and harsh master asked a question. "When you see Chen Ping'an next, tell him that the story between me and the Grand Princess Liu Chongrun can also be written. If he is willing to write it, I will give you a Small Summer Coin as reward."
She asked timidly, "If this servant cannot persuade Mr. Chen, will Master punish me?"
Master Ma, the ghost cultivator, cursed under his breath, turned around, and strode across the threshold. "Then he is blind and deaf, nothing to do with you, you ugly wretch. Damn it! How can your trivial family matters compare to the soul-stirring grudges and romance between me and Liu Chongrun? Chen Ping'an isn't a fool..."
At this point, the ghost cultivator coughed, turned his head, and said, "When you mention this to him, talk nicely. Wear him down a bit."
She breathed a sigh of relief and nodded vigorously.
Then she felt a bit puzzled. Eh? Since when had her master become so reasonable?