Chapter 439: Honing the Sword When Not Practicing Swordsmanship
That day, someone from the sword house came outside Chen Ping'an's dwelling to inform him that another flying sword from a foreign land had arrived at Qingxia Island. Chen Ping'an quickly left the house.
As expected, it was Zhong Kui's reply.
Sure enough, when he reached the sword house that received flying swords bearing messages from all directions, Chen Ping'an received a confidential letter from Taiping Mountain. Unfortunately, Zhong Kui wrote in the letter that he had urgent matters recently — pulling up a radish brought up mud, and on the foothills of Tongye Continent, there were still demons and monsters causing trouble everywhere. Although the situation was not as dire as before, it was even more disgusting. Truly an endless procession of demons and monsters that could never be killed off. He couldn't get away for the time being, but as soon as he had free time, he would rush over. However, he hoped Chen Ping'an wouldn't get his hopes up; Zhong Kui was destined to be unable to leave Tongye Continent anytime soon.
Chen Ping'an was somewhat worried. After all, Zhong Kui had not only been stripped of his Gentlemen title by the Academy but had also transformed into a ghostly being. If he encountered a Nascent Soul demon, losing his Academy identity meant losing his greatest protective talisman.
After worrying, Chen Ping'an put away the confidential letter, walked out of the sword house, and began muttering to himself, inwardly cursing Zhong Kui for being uncooperative. The letter contained a long list of news similar to the Shujian Lake gazette: Yao Jinzhi entering the palace through the selection for the imperial harem, the spectacular ups and downs of the three Great Spring princes, the immense fortune of the Embankment River God's wife, the successful promotion of Breeze Wanderer Temple to Breeze Wanderer Water God Palace, and so on. He wrote all sorts of things, yet he didn't even write a single technique for summoning ghosts from the earth or invoking spirits to return to the living world.
Not long after Chen Ping'an left the sword house, Island Master Liu Zhimao arrived without any warning, causing the sword house cultivators to tremble in fear. This was an unimaginable rarity for them. Lord River-Severing had almost never set foot in this sword house. First, this Nascent Soul island master had his own top-grade immortal small sword tomb for sending and receiving flying swords, which was more secretive and convenient. Second, Liu Zhimao kept to himself on Qingxia Island. Apart from occasionally visiting Gu Can at Spring Court Residence, only his direct disciple Tian Hujun and the island masters of vassal islands had the chance to meet Liu Zhimao face to face.
Liu Zhimao clasped his hands behind his back, bent over, and stared intently at the Taiping Mountain communication flying sword still resting on a "manger" on the sword house shelf, absorbing spiritual energy. He should have been confirming the authenticity of the words "Taiping Mountain."
In Baoping Continent, every communication flying sword from major immortal sects would openly engrave their sect's name using unique secret techniques. This itself was a huge deterrent. In Baoping Continent, sects like Divine Edict Sect, Snow Wind Temple, and True Martial Mountain all did this. The same went for Wind Thunder Garden, which produced the extraordinary genius Li Tuanjing, and it was also able to command respect. Half of Wind Thunder Garden's communication flying swords even had the words "Wind Thunder" personally engraved by Li Tuanjing, the undisputed number one Nascent Soul cultivator in Baoping Continent, using the tip of his lifebound flying sword.
However, it was said that Li Tuanjing had already undergone a dissolution of his physical form and passed into legend. Wind Thunder Garden was now left to be guarded by two young men, Huang He and Liu Baqiao. Coupled with the unstoppable and rapid rise of their sworn enemy, Brightsun Mountain, even though Huang He was extremely remarkable and Liu Baqiao also had promising prospects on the Great Path, without Li Tuanjing, was Wind Thunder Garden still Wind Thunder Garden? Their reputation was certainly not what it used to be. Now, cultivators on the mountains of Baoping Continent were all guessing when Huang He, the new garden master who had caused a sensation at the Immortal Terrace of Snow Wind Temple, would truly be able to shoulder the heavy burden.
Whenever they encountered flying swords with engraved names, the small group of rogue cultivators who dared to secretly intercept flying swords would generally release them upon seeing the names, never daring to forcibly break the restrictions and bring deadly disaster upon themselves.
Other mountain immortal sects were tacitly compliant and lacked the audacity to do such things. At Dragon Spring Sword Sect, Earth Immortal Dong Gu once suggested to Ruan Qiong that since they were now a sect-level mountain gate, they could engrave characters on their communication flying swords. Ruan Qiong, who was usually stern but rarely showed ill temper to his disciples, turned livid at that moment, scaring Dong Gu into quickly retracting his words. At the time, Ruan Qiong had said self-deprecatingly, "A sect that doesn't even have a Nascent Soul cultivator — what kind of sect gate is that?"
The sword house steward mustered his courage and said in a low voice, "Island Master, this flying sword not only has the words 'Taiping Mountain' engraved, but on the other side of the blade, there are also carved characters."
Liu Zhimao hummed in acknowledgment, extended a finger, and gently flicked it. The flying sword hovering in the sword slot turned over, revealing the three characters "Founder's Hall."
Liu Zhimao narrowed his eyes and sighed inwardly. It seemed that this accountant had made the acquaintance of a very remarkable person on Tongye Continent.
Previously, Liu Zhimao had taken the initiative to set aside his pride and personally go to apologize, speaking openly and honestly with Chen Ping'an. Regarding Chen Ping'an's claim that "Great Li still owes me some things," Liu Zhimao had been somewhat skeptical. Even now, he didn't fully believe it, but he believed it a little more, and thus his suspicion diminished a little.
A communication flying sword from the Founder's Hall of Taiping Mountain, the third largest immortal sect on Tongye Continent.
In Baoping Continent, the smallest of the nine continents, this was roughly equivalent to a flying sword from the Lotus Pavilion of Divine Edict Sect, personally handled by Heavenly Lord Qi Zhen.
It was still quite intimidating.
Liu Laocheng of Palace Willow Island, who had long ceased to care much about Shujian Lake, might not be concerned, but Liu Zhimao, who struggled even to become the supreme lord of Shujian Lake, had to carefully weigh this.
Cross-continent flying swords consumed a great deal of spiritual energy on a round trip and were very expensive in terms of immortal coins.
The several steward cultivators of the Qingxia Island sword house had specifically discussed this matter. Apart from reporting the flying sword's origin from "Taiping Mountain" to Tian Hujun, they also debated whether to "casually mention" the matter of those few Lesser Heat coins. After weighing the pros and cons, they gritted their teeth and decided not to trouble Tian Hujun with such a trivial matter. In the end, the sword house staff paid for those few Lesser Heat coins out of their own pockets, sharing the burden to help Qingxia Island get through the difficult times.
Liu Zhimao withdrew his gaze and turned his head, asking, "Did Mr. Chen say anything about the immortal coins this flying sword consumed in the sword house?"
The sword house steward shook his head. "No. It seems Mr. Chen isn't very familiar with the sword house rules."
Liu Zhimao asked with a smile, "Then did you hint anything to Mr. Chen? There's no harm in explaining the rules; otherwise, the sword house will inevitably suffer losses in the future."
Startled, the steward immediately replied, "The sword house gave absolutely no hints!"
Liu Zhimao muttered to himself, "This Mr. Chen is becoming less and less formal with us here on Qingxia Island. Hmm, that's actually a good thing."
Liu Zhimao then asked, "Did Mr. Chen send two more letters to his hometown from your place a couple of days ago?"
The steward nodded. "Both were flying sword messages to Dragon Spring Commandery, but slightly different — one went to Piyun Mountain, and the other to Luopo Mountain."
Liu Zhimao suddenly asked, "What do you think of dealing with this Mr. Chen?"
The sword house staff exchanged glances. Liu Zhimao waved his hand. "Forget it. You people would never even reach that level."
Liu Zhimao took a step and directly left the sword house, which was full of chaotic and mixed sword qi, returning to his own Ripple Wave Mansion.
Tian Hujun, who had just reported the news to him, was still standing in place. Liu Zhimao said, "Do exactly as Chen Ping'an requested. No matter how much manpower or resources it costs, treat it as the top priority on Qingxia Island recently. Remember, don't make a big show of it. Finish it quietly, and bring the person back to Qingxia Island. Chen Ping'an is smart enough, and it's not like we're dealing with Spring Court Residence, so you don't need to overcomplicate things."
Tian Hujun nodded and accepted the order without a single superfluous word. After all, her master never liked hearing that kind of talk. A basketful of flattering words was never as good as a single small accomplishment recorded in the merit ledger—that was what the master would actually read.
Liu Zhimao laughed. "Today, the sword house did a rare good deed. The steward and those three others are all fairly smart. Go to the secret archives and erase the records of their embezzlement over the past century. Consider those forty-plus Grain Rain coins they earned through unscrupulous means as extra compensation for their meritorious service, even if it's not the highest merit."
Tian Hujun nodded. According to the original strategy set by her master, after becoming the lake's ruler, there would have been a grand campaign of rewarding meritorious officials and making an example of a few, working from both ends—some openly, some covertly. But now, with the situation changing and the emergence of Liu Laocheng from Palace Willow Island, the former was no longer timely and had to be delayed until the situation became clearer. However, the restless ambitions of certain clueless individuals meant that the latter would actually be intensified. Anyone who courted trouble at this moment would face autumn settlement and harsh punishment in chaotic times—people would really die.
Tian Hujun silently left Ripple Wave Mansion.
She returned to Sulin Island, where she had established her own mansion. The place was full of beautiful women, who fawned over her, their "earthly immortal ancestor," some with a hint of sincerity but mostly with insincere flattery.
Tian Hujun felt neither pleasure nor disgust toward any of this. To make a living on Shujian Lake, if one didn't act this way, they would either be worked to death like oxen and horses their entire lives, or worse, slowly starve to death.
She first sent two trusted old followers who had moved with her to the Sulin Island mansion to inform the Fishing House of Qingxia Island—which was most experienced in handling such matters—as well as two vassal islands she had close personal ties with, to cooperate in getting that task done—the one Chen Ping'an had proposed and Liu Zhimao had approved.
She then walked alone through a secret passage several miles long, secretly arriving at the cultivation chamber she used for dedicated practice, located deep inside the island beneath the Sulin Island mansion. The further down she went, the denser the water transport crystallized from pure spiritual energy became. The so-called secret chamber was actually just a chair placed beside an underground river. The entire underground area was tinged with a faint, materialized greenish hue of water transport. Moreover, the walls above the chamber oozed strands of silvery-white radiance, which flowed into the mouths of the carved dragons on the chair.
When Tian Hujun sat down on that dilapidated old dragon throne, she took a deep breath, her face full of intoxication. Grasping the armrests, dragon aura and water transport spiritual energy constantly seeped into her palms, furiously rushing into her several lifebound qi mansions. The spiritual energy surged, refining her cultivation base.
Tian Hujun's face contorted, bearing both pain and pleasure.
She was drenched in fragrant sweat.
An hour later, Tian Hujun opened her eyes and heavily exhaled a mouthful of filthy turbid qi. With a light flick of her sleeve, the turbid qi flowed along the underground river into Shujian Lake, so as not to contaminate or erode the precious spiritual fortune of this place.
Tian Hujun was slightly fatigued, but more so content. The arduous journey of cultivation was terrifying, yet its pleasures far surpassed the romantic love between men and women. Thus, the vows and undying loyalty between the sexes were, in the eyes of middle-five-realm Qi refiners, especially earthly immortal cultivators, nothing more than an itch. However, nothing was absolute. If the Great Path itself involved that barrier of emotional entanglement, even Nascent Soul cultivators would find themselves mired in hardship, unable to bear the burden, unable to transcend it no matter what.
Regarding this matter, Li Tuanjing of Wind Thunder Garden was the best example.
With his dazzlingly brilliant cultivation talent, he should have become a swordsman of the upper five realms even earlier than Wei Jin of Snow Wind Temple.
Once he entered the Jade Purity realm and crossed that heavenly moat, even the Immortal realm could have been within Li Tuanjing's grasp.
Then who would be the true number one native cultivator of Baoping Continent?
Would a twelfth-realm sword cultivator be qualified enough?
One must know that the current leading cultivator of Baoping Continent, Daoist Heavenly Lord Qi Zhen, had only just entered the Immortal realm.
Yet it was precisely because Li Tuanjing, such a magnificent figure who commanded the sword qi fortune of an entire continent, happened to be unable to cross that barrier—one that cultivators like Tian Hujun wouldn't even care much about.
The unpredictability of the Great Path was exactly this.
Tian Hujun collected her thoughts and began to carefully consider her own future.
On the Great Path, the scenery was infinitely beautiful, but one could not just look at the splendid views of others. One should also become a landscape that others envied—that was the true way.
She thought of that little junior brother lying on his sickbed.
Tian Hujun's emotions were complex.
Standing up, she instantly shook off the sweat and grime from her dress.
She took a few steps forward, stood by the underground river, and fell into deep thought.
Between the master-disciple pair of Liu Zhimao and Gu Can, Tian Hujun's inner emotions actually leaned more toward little junior brother Gu Can than toward that master who was deeply calculating and would kill anyone for the sake of the Great Path—and would kill in such a way that people wouldn't even know why they were dying. That was the most terrifying part.
On the other hand, although Gu Can was unruly and didn't truly understand business, if she, Tian Hujun, persevered, it would be easy to put in one bit of effort and get an unexpected two bits of return. The little junior brother was still a child; he could handle the various forces that seemed intertwined but were actually superficial. But he had yet to truly understand the few fundamental veins hidden beneath the waters of Shujian Lake—those were the real rules of Shujian Lake. Gu Can didn't know how to use people, only how to kill them. He didn't know how to keep a low profile and preserve what he had, only how to forge ahead relentlessly. In the end, that was no long-term plan.
So reason told Tian Hujun that she could place a heavy bet on Gu Can, but she absolutely must not stake everything to support him. He was too fond of taking dangerous paths.
She, Tian Hujun, was far from being able to contend with Master Liu Zhimao. It was highly possible she would never see that day in this lifetime.
Tian Hujun actually felt regret. She regretted that Gu Can could carve out a small kingdom in just three years, but after reaching a high position, he hadn't yet thought about how to defend it. She could have taught him bit by bit, imparting all the insights she had painstakingly gleaned over two hundred years. But Gu Can had grown too fast—so fast that even Liu Zhimao and the entire Shujian Lake were caught off guard. How could Gu Can possibly listen to the opinions of a Tian Hujun? Perhaps if Gu Can, with his excellent aptitude, temperament, and talent, were given a few decades to slowly temper his character, he might truly be able to sit as an equal with Master Liu Zhimao.
Unfortunately, Liu Laocheng had come.
In an instant, he had knocked both Gu Can and his mud eel back to their original forms.
History books say that the nobility of a feudal vassal lies in land, soldiers, and the power of life and death.
But one cannot turn a blind eye to the fact that Shujian Lake, after all, was just a corner of Baoping Continent, and it had ushered in a new pattern unseen in a millennium, with great risks and great opportunities coexisting.
Whether it was the Great Li Iron Cavalry or the Zhuying Dynasty, whoever eventually became the supreme ruler of Shujian Lake would want a "feudal prince" capable of sufficiently controlling the situation there. If that couldn't be achieved, even if someone became the lake's ruler, they would be replaced in the blink of an eye, at the whim of life and death.
Tian Hujun never felt that little junior brother Gu Can had done poorly. In fact, what Gu Can had done already made her feel both trepidation and awe. But it seemed... it wasn't enough. And the great tide did not wait for anyone.
Now the great tide was sweeping in. What to do?
Tian Hujun suddenly thought of that young accountant living at the mountain gate.
Could he slightly hold back the flood tide from submerging Shujian Lake and Qingxia Island? Could he really remedy things?
Tian Hujun shook her head.
Too difficult.
—
Chen Ping'an returned to his room, sat behind the desk. The archives that needed to be collected and organized were already in order.
The yin spirits and ghostly entities that could be collected for the time being had also been settled with Yu Gui of Moonhook Island and the Yin-Yang family cultivators of Jade Vase Island. Ma Yuanzhi of Scarlet String Mansion had not yet agreed to sell, but he had promised to gather and filter the yin entities. He would only wait for Chen Ping'an to accomplish that one task, and then Scarlet String Mansion would hand over all the prepared yin entities. At that time, it would be however many immortal coins they were worth. However, as time passed and Chen Ping'an encountered more and more rejections from Liu Chongrun of Pearl Hairpin Island, it seemed that the ghost cultivator Ma Yuanzhi was also growing somewhat discouraged, and his stance had softened. He was willing to make a concession: as long as Chen Ping'an could invite Liu Chongrun to set foot on Qingxia Island, he could first hand over half of the yin entities accumulated in his soul-summoning banner and that water well, as a down payment.
The letter Chen Ping'an had sent to Wei Bo at Piyun Mountain mainly inquired about purchasing a mountain, as well as a few minor matters he needed Wei Bo's help with.
The family letter sent to Luopo Mountain instructed Zhu Lian not to worry—Chen Ping'an was in no personal danger on Shujian Lake, so Zhu Lian didn't need to come looking for him. He also asked Zhu Lian to tell Pei Qian to stay put in Dragon Spring Commandery, but not to forget that on New Year's Eve this year, she should call on the green-clothed child and the pink-skirted girl to go to the ancestral home in Mud Vase Alley to stay up the night. If they were afraid of the cold, they could buy good charcoal from the town. Light a charcoal fire for the night vigil. After midnight, if they got too sleepy, they could just sleep, but the next day, don't forget to put up spring couplets and blessing characters. Absolutely don't spend money to buy those; the old man surnamed Cui on the second floor of the bamboo building had excellent handwriting—let him write them. There was still plenty of red paper left over from last year for writing spring couplets and blessing characters; the pink-skirted girl knew where it was stored. Finally, he urged Pei Qian that when setting off firecrackers in Mud Vase Alley on the morning of the first day of the new year, not to be too unrestrained. The courtyards in Mud Vase Alley were small, and the alleyways in front of the doors were narrow, so don't set off too many firecrackers. If she didn't feel satisfied, she could go back to Luopo Mountain to set them off; no matter how many firecrackers were piled up, it didn't matter. If she found it too troublesome to chop bamboo and make firecrackers herself, she could buy them from the shops in town. That bit of money didn't need to be overly frugal. As for the New Year's red envelopes, even though he, Chen Ping'an, wouldn't be home, there would still be some. On the first or second day of the new year, his friend, the great mountain god Wei Bo, would show up and distribute them. Everyone would get one, but when asking for red envelopes, no one was to forget to say some auspicious words. And no discourtesy toward Mr. Wei.
Chen Ping'an picked up a small awl-tip brush with a purple bamboo handle from the wooden brush rest, gently exhaled a breath, but then froze, put down the brush, and felt a headache, mostly guilt.
The brush rest on the table was homemade by Chen Ping'an. The brush was a gift from the island master of Purple Bamboo Island. At the time, Chen Ping'an had asked for three purple bamboo stalks, and the island master, going the extra mile, also gave Chen Ping'an two specially made brushes from Purple Bamboo Island. Naturally, they were top-quality purple bamboo brush handles, with a small transparent tip at the bristle end—extremely marvelous, a secret not passed on by the Purple Bamboo Island master. Even a lower-five-realm Qi refiner, by gently exhaling a breath of spiritual energy, could make it as if the brush were fully dipped in ink, writing freely with fragrant marks that could naturally resist insects for a hundred years. Hence, these "Lake Bamboo Brushes" were sold far and wide, to both the mountains and the lowlands of the Zhuying Dynasty. They were the top desk ornaments for dignitaries and nobles; even if one couldn't write, hanging it on the brush rest as decoration would make the owner happy just looking at it.
Chen Ping'an had shamelessly accepted them at the time, asking for two fine-point small regular script brushes, most suitable for writing tiny characters.
It had a similar marvelous effect to the small snow awl brush that Li Xisheng had once given him. Breathe to create ink; after one breath, if the spiritual energy was too abundant, simply set it on the brush mountain or hang it on the brush rest, and not a single drop of "ink" would fall. If it was insufficient, and the writing ran out halfway, just breathe again—very convenient. Moreover, if the lifebound acupoints were divided into the five elements, the ink marks would also have different colors, making it extremely practical. It was also a favorite among many female mountain cultivators for correspondence.
Chen Ping'an hadn't practiced boxing or refined qi for a long time. After that great battle with Liu Laocheng, his body was slowly recovering. But only until this moment did he realize that his two lifebound qi mansions had become so depleted of spiritual energy. The acupoint where his golden moral courage rested was already in ruins, shattered beyond description. Not to mention that, on that night, to grasp that sword immortal, he had done something akin to draining the pond to catch fish and burning the forest to hunt, which also caused tremendous impact on that "water mansion" where the green-clad little figures clustered. The impact was even greater than Chen Ping'an had anticipated, to the point where the water mansion's spiritual energy was, in the truest sense, not a single drop left.
Chen Ping'an stood up without hesitation, took that ordinary ferry boat that almost the entire Shujian Lake knew about, and went to Sulin Island to visit Tian Hujun.
The steward of the mansion apologized, saying that the island master was in seclusion and it was unknown when she would emerge. He dared not disturb her without authorization. But if there was truly an urgent matter, he would be willing to notify the island master even if severely punished afterward.
Interrupting cultivation midway was a major taboo.
Chen Ping'an wasn't some greenhorn new to the jianghu. He quickly said to the old cultivator, whose face bore an expression of "ready to face death," that there was no urgent matter. He had visited Sulin Island several times but had never been able to sit and have a proper chat with Island Master Tian. He had caused her much trouble lately, and today he just happened to have free time to come and express his thanks. There was absolutely no need to disturb the island master's secluded cultivation.
The old steward cultivator sighed with relief. Just as Chen Ping'an was about to leave, he suddenly asked with a smile, "I've heard that the mansion treasures some Maiden Tea from Cao'e Island, occasionally brought out to entertain guests. Since I'm here, could I trouble you a little more and have a cup of tea to moisten my throat before I leave? If Island Master Tian gets angry afterward, just say I pestered you relentlessly, threatening not to leave unless I got tea, forcing you to make this expense."
The old cultivator beamed with joy and quickly led this accountant into the mansion. Soon, he served a pot of Cao'e Island Maiden Tea, naturally infused with water qi.
Chen Ping'an drank his tea and chatted casually with the old cultivator.
They had a pleasant conversation.
After Chen Ping'an took his leave, the old cultivator personally escorted him all the way to the Sulin Island ferry, vigorously waving goodbye.
On his way back to the mansion, the old cultivator strutted with pride. Even though it was the depth of winter, the old man's face was full of spring breeze.
Today, his own prestige was truly immense.
After leaving Sulin Island, Chen Ping'an did not return directly to Qingxia Island. Instead, he went to Pearl Hairpin Island.
One pot of Cao'e Island Maiden Tea was only a drop in the bucket for replenishing the water mansion's spiritual energy. He still needed to purchase some secret elixirs rich in dense water transport.
Since Tian Hujun was in seclusion, the only option was to come to Liu Chongrun.
Rumor had it that when Liu Chongrun's homeland fell, she had secretly hidden many fine objects taken from the dynasty's secret treasury. More importantly, in Shujian Lake, Chen Ping'an couldn't trust anyone.
After chatting with Ma Yuanzhi of Scarlet String Mansion and sorting through the history and relationships of Shujian Lake, Chen Ping'an found that this Liu Chongrun of Pearl Hairpin Island was the kind of cultivator who did business fairly. Over two hundred years, no misconduct had been reported.
If Liu Chongrun had been born into an imperial family and was naturally adept at hiding, to the point where she had revealed nothing in two hundred years, and if there was a behind-the-scenes figure powerful enough to calculate his sudden decision today to buy elixirs from Liu Chongrun, then Chen Ping'an would accept his fate.
Today, Liu Chongrun still did not receive him in person.
Very normal. She was probably indeed tired of this accountant's clumsy matchmaking.
Twice before, when Chen Ping'an docked and disembarked, Liu Chongrun had been too lazy to show her face, instead sending a remarkably beautiful direct disciple to "block" him at the ferry. He hadn't remembered her name. The overall conduct of Pearl Hairpin Island was relatively clean in Shujian Lake, which was no easy feat. In contrast, Cloud Rain Island, also full of female cultivators but mockingly referred to by male cultivators as "Brothel Island," had a completely different reputation. At those times, when Chen Ping'an landed there, it was only to obtain some information from Island Master Liu Chongrun. He didn't want any dealings with any other cultivators on Pearl Hairpin Island.
Naturally, this wasn't because Chen Ping'an was aloof or conceited, but because he knew that every word and action of his in Shujian Lake would bring unpredictable consequences. Even if good, they would only add icing on the cake. But if bad, they would implicate innocent bystanders and bring deadly disaster.
In life, once trapped in adversity and inevitably spiraling downward, one often lost their footing, caught between conflicting choices, and easily felt lost on all sides.
At this moment, besides carefully considering his own gains and losses and cautiously weighing the strategies to break the deadlock, if he could also consider the people around him a little more, it might not necessarily solve the problem, but at least it wouldn't make things worse or lead to a complete mistake.
Chen Ping'an explained his purpose.
The beautiful female cultivator with an extraordinary temperament asked with a smile, "Mr. Chen, this time you're really not here to be a matchmaker for that ghost cultivator?"
Chen Ping'an nodded in assurance. "Really not."
She looked somewhat annoyed, lightly stamped her foot, and complained, "Mr. Chen made me lose ten Snow Flower coins."
Chen Ping'an replied helplessly, "If I say 'serves you right,' will I still be able to see your island master master?"
The young female cultivator said reluctantly, "You can."
Chen Ping'an then said, "Serves you right."
From a distance, laughter came from many female cultivators secretly hiding in the shadows—mostly Liu Chongrun's direct disciples or some newly arrived favored daughters of heaven, mostly young, daring to be so bold.
The young female cultivator said testily, "Mr. Chen, can you go to the Precious Light Pavilion at the mountain peak by yourself?"
Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "I can."
After passing the mountain gate, she really did just leave him aside, running to the side room of the mountain gate to whisper with her junior sisters. Then, along with several other female cultivators who had bet wrong like her, she obediently took out Snow Flower coins to give to the winners.
A lucky young girl who had won so many coins she could hardly hold them in both hands poked her head out and shouted loudly at the back of the young accountant as he walked away, "Mr. Chen, thanks!"
The accountant slowly climbing the mountain didn't turn around, just raised a hand and waved, likely indicating no thanks needed.
In the side room of the mountain gate, seven or eight young female cultivators, winners and losers alike, burst into laughter.
In the Precious Light Pavilion, Chen Ping'an met Liu Chongrun, who was dressed in luxurious palace attire. The two sat facing each other. She skillfully brewed tea, every movement exuding true aristocratic bearing.
No wonder it was said that Spring Court Residence had invited Liu Chongrun twice before, but she had declined both times.
Liu Chongrun asked, "Mr. Chen, aren't you at all worried about your own physical condition?"
Chen Ping'an got straight to the point. "Of course I am. That's why I came to your Pearl Hairpin Island, hoping to buy some miraculous elixirs suitable for nourishing the water qi of the qi mansions from Island Master Liu. If I remember correctly, in the old days of Island Master Liu's homeland, there was a Water Hall and a Dragon Boat, both built under Island Master Liu's personal supervision. Both items were famous throughout central Baoping Continent."
Liu Chongrun nodded. "I not only have elixirs suitable for an earthly immortal to warm the water-attributed qi mansions and lifebound objects, but I have more than one kind. However, this is no longer a matter of price. In Shujian Lake, such rare treasures are something I dare not put up for sale. If they were to see the light of day, unless I could produce them endlessly, it would mean death. I believe with Mr. Chen's intelligence, you can understand the crux of the matter."
Chen Ping'an hummed in agreement. "If I were in your shoes, I'd find them too hot to handle. Unless I was at the end of my rope, I would never dare to exchange them for Grain Rain coins."
Liu Chongrun handed him a cup of Rainbow Drink Island's immortal tea, steam rising from it. As sunlight shone on the cup, a miniature rainbow as long as a finger appeared on its surface.
Liu Chongrun asked with a smile, "Mr. Chen, you're someone who understands reason. So, tell me yourself: why should I quote a price?"
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment. "Then, Island Master Liu, under what conditions would you be willing to name a price? Let's hear it."
Liu Chongrun's expression turned grave. "Pearl Hairpin Island wants to relocate out of Shujian Lake. What does Mr. Chen think?"
Chen Ping'an asked curiously, "Pearl Hairpin Island has never gotten involved in disputes, always remained neutral, and has almost no enemies. So the final ownership of Shujian Lake—whether it goes to Great Li's Song family or the Zhuying Dynasty—doesn't seem to have much impact on Island Master Liu. At most, Pearl Hairpin Island won't get a share of the spoils, but it won't get splashed with mud either. After that, Shujian Lake will become more orderly, with rules increasingly resembling a dynasty's vassal state—exactly the kind of rules Island Master Liu is most familiar with. So why are you so determined to relocate your foundation?"
Liu Chongrun held her tea with both hands, eyes downcast, her eyelashes adorned with a few droplets of tea steam, looking particularly moist.
Chen Ping'an held the tea cup in one palm, supporting the celadon-colored porcelain cup with the other, his gaze fixed on this Pearl Hairpin Island island master.
There was neither a hint of improper thoughts nor the slightest trace of pity.
Liu Chongrun slowly raised her head and met his eyes. After a moment, it was she who broke first, lowering her head to take a sip of tea. "I'm afraid that the Zhuying Dynasty's imperial family will end up with Shujian Lake. Some seemingly absurd and fantastical palace secrets are actually the truth."
Chen Ping'an began to sift through his memory for past events related to the Zhuying Dynasty, Pearl Hairpin Island, and Liu Chongrun's fallen homeland.
From Qingxia Island to Shujian Lake, being regarded as an accountant wasn't entirely a joking nickname.
But many of the secret histories of Shujian Lake islands quietly stored in the cabinets of the mountain gate house, and some fragmented unofficial historical accounts, were too broken and scattered. Many bits of gossip would even obscure the truth.
After much thought, Chen Ping'an couldn't piece together a coherent chain of cause and effect.
After all, this Pearl Hairpin Island was not a key "battlefield" that Chen Ping'an needed to focus on. He still knew too little.
Liu Chongrun asked a question that should never be asked in Shujian Lake. "Can I trust Mr. Chen's character?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head, then nodded. "Don't trust my character. But compared to the usual business practices of rogue cultivators here in Shujian Lake—like turning their backs on people and being fond of dirty tricks and betrayals—doing business with me, Chen Ping'an, should be a little better. Just a little."
Liu Chongrun smiled bitterly. "Just based on the fact that Mr. Chen has never used his power to bully others, and has endured so many closed doors at the ferry without ever losing his temper, I'm willing to trust Mr. Chen's character."
Chen Ping'an took a sip of tea, looking at Liu Chongrun. "Is the potential calamity facing Pearl Hairpin Island so great that it exceeds Island Master Liu's ability to bear it, forcing you to gamble on my character?"
Seeming to have her calculations seen through, Liu Chongrun looked somewhat embarrassed.
Chen Ping'an asked, "Is it because you've learned something of my background and want to relocate to the western mountains of Dragon Spring Commandery?"
Chen Ping'an continued without waiting for an answer. "Pearl Hairpin Island has few cultivators. The only earthly immortal on the surface is Island Master Liu herself. If you go to the spiritually rich Dragon Spring Commandery of Great Li, you could settle down using one or two small mountain peaks. That would count as submitting to the Song family. Not only would you extract yourself from Shujian Lake, but you'd also stay away from the war-torn central regions of Baoping Continent. Even if the Zhuying Dynasty wins the war, trying to cause trouble for Island Master Liu in Great Li would be far beyond their reach..."
At the start, Liu Chongrun listened carefully, not wanting to miss a single word. But as she listened further, a look of shame and anger crept onto her face, and she glared fiercely at Chen Ping'an.
Chen Ping'an found it strange. "What's wrong?"
Liu Chongrun looked at this young man in padded robes, staring into his eyes as if trying to find some clue in them. If she did, she would turn hostile and throw him out.
Unable to find any sign, she held back for a moment, but in the end, she couldn't contain herself. "Chen Ping'an! Have you truly never heard of the grudge and secret history between the Zhuying Dynasty and my homeland?"
Chen Ping'an frowned. "Almost everything I know about Island Master Liu comes from Ma Yuanzhi of Scarlet String Mansion. It's mostly about your early glory days. I haven't heard much about your grudge with the Zhuying Dynasty. I only know that the ghost cultivator Ma Yuanzhi harbors extreme hatred for the Zhuying Dynasty. Every time he leaves Shujian Lake, he secretly infiltrates the Zhuying Dynasty's borders, successfully assassinating several border generals. Those cases remain unsolved in the Zhuying Dynasty—all Ma Yuanzhi's work. But what exactly lies at the heart of this, I truly don't know."
Chen Ping'an asked, "Island Master Liu, are you wary of some powerful figure in the Zhuying Dynasty? And does it relate to the reason your homeland was destroyed?"
Liu Chongrun threw the cup in her hand to the ground, shattering it with a crack.
This voluptuously beautiful woman, whose life story was full of legend, took a deep breath. Seeing the young man across from her remain composed, Liu Chongrun sighed bitterly and laughed at herself. "Sorry. My cultivation of the heart is insufficient. I've lost my composure in front of Mr. Chen."
Chen Ping'an waved his hand, indicating it was fine.
Liu Chongrun spoke slowly. "There was an old, undying earthly immortal sword cultivator from the Zhuying Dynasty. Years ago, he visited my country's capital as an envoy. Can you imagine? In his foreign land, I, Liu Chongrun, was a sovereign ruler lacking only a dragon robe and a throne. He nearly broke into the palace and violated me. From the imperial guards to the court's appointed cultivators, not a single one dared to stop him. He didn't succeed, but as he slowly pulled up his pants, he deliberately wiggled his lower body and left a remark: saying I would eventually understand what it means to be 'within reach of a long whip,' and what it means to have 'a long whip between my legs that can span the capitals of two countries.' When our country was destroyed that year, this man happened to be in seclusion. Otherwise, I suspect Mr. Chen wouldn't be drinking this tea in Shujian Lake today. But now, this man has become a powerful feudal lord in the Zhuying Dynasty, a supreme ruler over a vassal state. Coincidentally, it's not far from Stone Brush Country, and even less conveniently, it borders Shujian Lake!"
Chen Ping'an remained silent.
Gritting her teeth, Liu Chongrun made up her mind. She slightly raised her hips, thrust out her chest, and said in a low voice, "If Mr. Chen agrees to help secure a mountain peak in Dragon Spring Commandery and expedite Pearl Hairpin Island's relocation, then Liu Chongrun is willing to offer herself as a bedmate. Right here, today! If you like, even right now, in this very place!"
Her gaze was frank and open.
Chen Ping'an's eyes were still and calm, like an ancient well.
Then he asked a question that was even more of a mood-killer than rejecting her. "Why didn't you approach Liu Zhimao or Liu Laocheng instead?"
Liu Chongrun's expression dimmed slightly, but then she regained her fighting spirit, sneering coldly. "If I approached Liu Zhimao, once he got tired of me, he'd definitely sell me to the Zhuying Dynasty in a heartbeat. As for Old Ancestor Liu of Palace Willow Island, I doubt I could even get an audience with him. And even if Liu Laocheng were willing to see me, if I dared to open my mouth, I'd probably be slapped into a pile of minced meat."
Chen Ping'an asked, "Island Master Liu, have you ever had a man you liked?"
Liu Chongrun shook her head. "Never! If I had, I, Liu Chongrun, would rather face death and the destruction of my path, and let Pearl Hairpin Island be wiped out like my homeland, than ever speak such words of offering myself to a man!"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "It seems you really haven't. If you had truly liked someone before, you wouldn't have said such absurd words to me."
Liu Chongrun said angrily, "Chen Ping'an, don't go too far! A scholar can be killed but not humiliated! Though I am a woman, I am not so degraded as to be lectured and insulted by you like this!"
Chen Ping'an took a sip of tea, somewhat helpless. "What happened to 'if the deal fails, goodwill remains'?"
Liu Chongrun's anger subsided a little, but her face still burned with shame. She cursed resentfully, "Men are all worthless. Either their minds are full of filth, wanting all women to be their bed playthings, or you're this kind of hypocrite. Both are hateful!"
Chen Ping'an handed over his empty cup, indicating he wanted another. Liu Chongrun said crossly, "Don't you have hands and feet?"
Chen Ping'an had no choice but to pour himself a cup of tea, also picking up a new cup for her and pouring her a cup. He gently passed it over. Liu Chongrun took the porcelain cup and drank it all in one gulp, like a hearty drink of strong liquor.
As long as one side remained calm, even if the other side was full of rage, it wasn't easy to fan the flames.
After Liu Chongrun poured herself another cup of tea and took a slow sip, Chen Ping'an finally spoke. "Island Master Liu, do you hate Ma Yuanzhi so much just because he was a rice-carrying menial laborer back then? I don't think so. You're not that kind of person."
Liu Chongrun said slowly, "He's ugly. Even a single glance at him makes me sick. It was the same back then, and even more so now. He has these dog's eyes that always stare at women's chests and backsides. The bigger, the better. The more noble the woman, the more this rice-carrier drools over her."
Chen Ping'an decided not to speak.
Absolutely no comment.
And he planned never to get involved in this matter.
Liu Chongrun put down her teacup and sneered. "Just because a man does many things for a woman doesn't mean the woman should like him. There's no such logic in the world!"
But then Liu Chongrun sighed. "Still, he's done so many things. Of course I know, clearly. Otherwise, do you think I would have tolerated him all these years and let him hang that 'Scarlet String Mansion' plaque? But sometimes, when I think about that history, I can't help but feel some gratitude that's unrelated to romantic feelings... Then I think a little more, and I remember that face full of protruding yellow teeth, and I really can't stomach my food."
Chen Ping'an remained silent.
Liu Chongrun, however, wasn't planning to let this young accountant off. She glanced sideways at his thin, pale face. "If Mr. Chen were as ugly as a gourd, do you think I'd have been so willing to show myself at the ferry so many times? At most, I'd have seen you once or twice. Do you think common women and female cultivators in the mountains like looking at ugly people? They'd rather glance at handsome men a few more times. It's the same principle as you men not being able to keep your eyes off a beautiful woman. The only difference is whether a man can control his thoughts and his pants."
Liu Chongrun lifted her teacup, took a slow sip, and then asked with a half-smile, "Mr. Chen, have you controlled your pants? And your thoughts?"
Chen Ping'an's gaze was clear. "No need to control."
Liu Chongrun saw that he didn't seem to be faking it and understood his implication. She felt somewhat frustrated and dejected. "Are you really a clay bodhisattva? Or have I already lost my youth and beauty?"
Chen Ping'an put down his teacup. "Since Island Master Liu has already named her price, I can try to make contact with Great Li."
Liu Chongrun lowered her voice. "Grain Island island master?"
Chen Ping'an didn't play coy. He nodded gently.
Both were sharp-eyed individuals of Shujian Lake.
Liu Chongrun warned, "Let me be clear upfront, Mr. Chen. Don't botch this and end up harming Pearl Hairpin Island."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "I'll be careful. Even if I can't solve Island Master Liu's immediate problem, I certainly won't make things worse for Pearl Hairpin Island."
Liu Chongrun said with amusement, "I wonder where Mr. Chen gets the confidence to say such things."
Chen Ping'an was silent for a moment, then said bluntly, "Compared to something I'm currently doing, the relocation of Pearl Hairpin Island is just a small bonus that benefits all three parties. A very small prize."
Liu Chongrun's expression shifted unpredictably.
Chen Ping'an tucked his hands into his sleeves. "Don't believe me? Well, Pearl Hairpin Island is gambling anyway. Since you're gambling and have no more retreat, you might as well believe even if you don't. Treat me like a quack doctor for all the good it does. Who knows, it might turn out to be a pleasant surprise—better than me playing matchmaker."
Liu Chongrun suddenly put on a girlishly coy expression, as if the sun had risen in the west. "What if I back out now and pretend we just had tea? Would that still be possible?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "It's still possible. I'm not like Island Master Liu. I still believe that if the deal fails, goodwill remains."
Liu Chongrun was so angry she ground her teeth. This young man was truly impervious to all poisons, impervious to oil and salt!
Liu Chongrun raised both hands, her elbows deliberately pressing together to create a spectacular sight. She gave Chen Ping'an a beaming smile, clapped her hands, and then asked him to wait a moment.
Soon, an old, decrepit matriarch came into the courtyard holding a porcelain bottle. She respectfully handed the bottle to Liu Chongrun and then silently left the courtyard.
Chen Ping'an knew that this old woman, whose outward appearance couldn't hide a musty, decaying aura, was the very foundation that allowed Pearl Hairpin Island to stand firm.
Perhaps, back when Liu Chongrun had escaped from that insane Zhuying Dynasty earthly immortal in her own capital's imperial palace, she owed her survival to this old woman.
Liu Chongrun tossed the porcelain bottle to Chen Ping'an. "Mr. Chen, take good care of this. It's one of the best elixirs secretly stored in the Water Hall back then. It can greatly replenish the spiritual energy of the water mansion and repair water-attributed lifebound objects. If this bottle of elixir were thrown into Shujian Lake, it could raise hundred-zhang-high waves. Any Golden Core earthly immortal would covet it. This is the down payment—Pearl Hairpin Island's sincerity. Next, it's up to Mr. Chen to see if he has the miraculous ability to turn decay into wonder. If the matter succeeds, those four words I said earlier will remain valid until I leave Shujian Lake. Once I move to Dragon Spring Commandery, they'll be null and void. Use it or lose it!"
Chen Ping'an ignored the second half of her words. On the spot, he opened the porcelain bottle, poured out a green elixir, closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and gave Liu Chongrun a slight smile before tossing it directly into his mouth.
Liu Chongrun asked curiously, "Naturally, this elixir hasn't been tampered with, but how did Mr. Chen determine that so quickly?"
Chen Ping'an certainly wasn't going to tell her the truth about the green-clad water transport children dwelling in his water mansion. He said casually, "Since I've come to Shujian Lake, I'll do as the locals do—gamble big to win big."
Liu Chongrun raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything more.
Chen Ping'an asked, "Could I ask Island Master Liu to tell me in detail the history of your homeland and the Zhuying Dynasty? It might take up quite a bit of your time. Is that all right?"
Liu Chongrun looked puzzled. "Why? Does it have anything to do with the matter you're about to plan?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "Almost nothing. I just want to know more about how someone in charge views certain... big trends. I've only observed and overheard similar scenes and questions from the sidelines before, and I didn't feel deeply about them. Now I want to know a bit more."
Liu Chongrun hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "All right. Bringing up old matters makes me uneasy, but since I've already told Mr. Chen about that sordid affair, all the other court and battlefield matters are nothing."
Chen Ping'an cupped his hands in thanks.
Liu Chongrun gave him a charming sideways glance.
Chen Ping'an pretended not to see.
For the next two full hours, Liu Chongrun narrated the grand trends of her homeland: from its rise and founding, gradual decline, a resurgence and revival, deep-seated problems, desperate efforts to maintain it, and ultimate destruction. She spoke with candor, and Chen Ping'an listened intently, silently taking notes, reaping great benefits. When she reached key points, he would take out paper and brush from his dimensional storage and write them down one by one. Whenever Liu Chongrun said something clever or something he didn't understand, Chen Ping'an would ask a question or two.
This made Liu Chongrun feel very awkward. She laughed and cried inwardly.
How did she end up like a village school teacher, here to impart wisdom and resolve doubts for a diligent student?
This was a first for her in her entire life.
When Liu Chongrun felt there was nothing more to say,
Chen Ping'an said that on his next visit to the Precious Light Pavilion, he would like to ask Island Master Liu more detailed questions about canal transport and petty officials.
Liu Chongrun laughed angrily. "Chen Ping'an, aren't you annoying?! If you want to get into my bed, why can't you just say it directly? Why go around in circles like this? Is it fun? What, you want both body and mind? Fine, you've got bigger appetites than anyone! That Zhuying earthly immortal and that rice-carrier of a lecher add up to less than you!"
Chen Ping'an's expression didn't change. He said calmly, "Island Master Liu, just now when you spoke about the great trends of mountains and rivers, you had true style, like a deposed emperor whose 'crime was not in the sovereign,' reflecting on the game board with me and pointing out the landscape. I felt genuine admiration. But now you're far off the mark. So please, in the future, stop saying these strange things. All right?"
Liu Chongrun seemed somewhat hurt. She covered her collar with one hand and bit her lip.
Chen Ping'an remained unmoved and prepared to take his leave.
Liu Chongrun suddenly called out softly, "Chen Ping'an."
Chen Ping'an had no choice but to stay put, puzzled. "Hmm?"
With lightning speed, Liu Chongrun abruptly tore open her collar.
Chen Ping'an, an old jianghu veteran who had experienced countless life-and-death battles, shut his eyes with equally lightning speed. He abruptly stood up. "One time only! Or the deal is off!"
Liu Chongrun laughed so hard her whole body shook. Watching the young man's hurried retreat, she said gleefully, "Why don't you tell that fellow at Scarlet String Mansion about this? See if he envies you?"
Chen Ping'an stopped, his back to her, and said softly, "Liu Chongrun, this isn't good."
Liu Chongrun's smile faded. She snorted coldly. "I won't see you out!"
When Chen Ping'an left the mountain peak and went to the ferry, poling his boat back to Qingxia Island.
The old matriarch walked into the courtyard and looked at Liu Chongrun, who seemed somewhat distracted, asking, "Your Highness, do you really trust an outsider who has only been in Shujian Lake for less than half a year? And someone so young at that. Even if he is meticulous and steady in his work, his youth means shallow roots—this is an eternal truth. Otherwise, that little bastard who was placed on the dragon throne by Your Highness's own hand would never have swallowed his pride and pretended to be crazy and stupid for so many years. In the end, he nearly succeeded in doing that disgusting thing that even the earthly immortal sword cultivator couldn't manage."
Liu Chongrun returned to her normal expression and said calmly, "Do you know what kind of person is most worth doing business with in this world?"
The old matriarch said, "Please enlighten me, Your Highness."
Liu Chongrun stood up. Tall and slender, she exuded great presence. Her face as calm as water, she gritted her teeth and said, "Smart, good, and having bottom lines—all three at once. In the past, if that little bastard hadn't been misled by others and deliberately acted against nature, his only skill being to oppose me, systematically killing one by one all such people in the court and the border armies, would we have lost our country?!"
The old matriarch refrained from commenting on these old events. Even though they had left that imperial palace many years ago, she still adhered to the established palace principle of not speaking recklessly or interfering in court affairs.
The old woman just said sternly, "Your Highness, forgive my presumption, but saying such words and doing such things to a snot-nosed brat is truly shameless."
Liu Chongrun actually ran over, bent down, gently took the old matriarch's arm, and acted spoiled. "It was fun, just this once. It won't happen again."
The old matriarch nodded. "Loneliness in a deep boudoir is the worry of common women. Your Highness is now a Golden Core earthly immortal. Do not act as mischievously as you did when you were a young girl. Besides, an old cow eating tender grass is not good."
Liu Chongrun's face flushed bright red. As if in a fit of pique, she let go of the old matriarch's arm and went into the Precious Light Pavilion, refusing to see anyone.
The old matriarch waited until Liu Chongrun had hidden away, then finally allowed a hint of a smile to appear on her face, only to immediately suppress it.
The old woman knew full well that it wasn't that the princess had any real thoughts about that young man, not any love at first sight. Rather, the pressure on the princess's shoulders was too great now, and she had no backbone to rely on, so it was inevitable that she would say and do some excessive things. Over the past half year, how many precious porcelain vessels had been smashed in the Precious Light Pavilion? And when a glimmer of hope appeared unexpectedly, it was even more likely to shake one's heart and soul. With sudden great sorrow and great joy, one's true nature and heart could be seen clearly. Golden Core earthly immortals were no exception.
This princess, whom she had watched grow up, had been mischievous, naughty, and unruly since childhood. In the early days, those etiquette matrons in the palace who tried to discipline the princess all ended up with heartache.
It was only she who had accompanied the princess all along, the two relying on each other, reaching this point today.
And her own Golden Core decaying and on the verge of collapse had become the last straw that nearly crushed the princess's state of mind.
Watching one's closest relative turn into a pile of white bones was a pain almost every earthly immortal cultivator had to endure.
Most of the time, it wasn't one's parents or elders, but rather master and disciple, dao partners, or one's teacher and guardian.
The closer the relationship, the greater the demon.
Just like Liu Laocheng, who had left Palace Willow Island back then.
He had to personally slay his beloved dao partner, who had fallen into demonhood.
The rumor was of unknown authenticity, but it was the number one taboo on Shujian Lake.
Yet this old matriarch believed it without a doubt.
—
Chen Ping'an returned to Qingxia Island while dusk was gathering.
He swallowed another elixir hidden in the Water Hall, picked up a purple bamboo brush, exhaled a breath, and began to write down the draft he had accumulated on Pearl Hairpin Island.
The reason he had asked Liu Chongrun about the grand trends of the two dynasties was that this was the third thread he wanted to see on Shujian Lake. The events were farthest from the present, but they might become useful soon.
The first thread was Gu Can and the people around him—the most complex and difficult to unravel.
The second was the father and daughter reunited in Cloud Tower City—relatively the simplest and clearest.
The full story from beginning to end.
Threads.
This was the biggest conclusion Chen Ping'an had drawn from privately reviewing his trip to Lotus Flower Blessed Land: when encountering all people and matters, he would only go straight to the point, temporarily setting aside all good and evil, and only delve deeply into the question of why this person said this, did this, and had this thought.
Once he did that, even if everyone was like a fool's sword,
they could still be used by him.
But in this lengthy process, which consumed a great deal of mental energy, he, Chen Ping'an, had to think more than before and walk more slowly!
Chen Ping'an temporarily stopped writing, picked up the Sword-Nurturing Gourd at his side, took a sip of wine, and set it down.
His complexion was even more haggard, his cheeks sunken, and there was even some stubble on his face. Yet at this moment, as he held the brush, his eyes shone brightly.
—
Atop the most majestic mountain in the Central Earth.
An impoverished old Confucian scholar was pinching his fingers in deduction while stroking his beard with a grimace, muttering and complaining, "This really isn't good."
A burly golden-armored god sat not far away, looking down at his vast domain. "Since the situation is unfavorable and you can't see the specific details, why don't you just sneak over there? After all, no one would be surprised by that kind of behavior from you. And you've got thick skin—even if the juniors at the Wen Temple scold you to your face, you wouldn't care."
The old scholar rolled his eyes. "Shut up. Talking to you is like talking to that old guy from the Eastern Sea—it's casting pearls before swine."
The golden-armored god was unbothered.
If any cultivator below the Fly Ascension realm dared to tell this "chief" of the tens of thousands of mountain gods in the Central Earth to shut up on Mount Sui, they'd probably be struck half-dead.
As for Fly Ascension cultivators—what difficulty was there in cutting out of Mount Sui's territory with a single sword?
The old scholar casually tossed a handful of pebbles on the ground and muttered, "Did you think that stinky Daoist from Observation Dao Temple gave away that Tongye umbrella for free? That three-hundred-year River of Time was shown to my closed-door disciple for nothing? It was all malicious, full of evil intentions."
The golden-armored god sneered, "Aren't you just asking for trouble?"
The old scholar cursed, "You've got nothing but brute strength. What do you know?"
The golden-armored god replied, "Oh? Then why don't you leave Mount Sui? Didn't the Second Holy One send someone to summon you to the Wen Temple for a heart-to-heart talk?"
The old scholar shook his shoulders, smug and proud. "Hey, no, no, I'll just wait a while longer. What can they do to me?"
The golden-armored god glanced at the old scholar, hesitated, and asked, "That silver ingot sword embryo—did you know about its prior cause and effect long ago?"
The old scholar's expression sobered. He nodded. "Just a small matter."
The golden-armored god smiled. "You're quite open-minded."
The old scholar sneered. "If I weren't open-minded, could I accommodate so many fake scholars in this Haoran Heaven?"
The golden-armored god asked, "Since Qi Jingchun is completely gone, aren't you afraid that closed-door disciple of yours—who doesn't even acknowledge you as his master—will go astray?"
The old scholar leaped to his feet, strode over to the cross-legged golden-armored god, and since one was standing and the other sitting, he was able to tap the god's head with his finger, poking repeatedly. "You can insult my learning and my cultivation, but you cannot insult my judgment in taking disciples!"
The golden-armored god was poked a dozen times on his helmet. He said calmly, "Try poking me one more time."
The old scholar did indeed poke him one more time, then immediately hopped backward and said with a straight face, "You said it yourself. Don't blame me."
The golden-armored god sighed, turned his head, and rare as it was, pleaded, "I beg you, can you please get the hell off my Mount Sui?"
The old scholar inexplicably flew into a rage. "If begging worked, would I need to hide in your home? Huh? I would have knelt and kowtowed to that old man long ago, bowed to Ritual Sage! Would it have worked?"
The golden-armored god turned back. "If you have anger, don't take it out on me."
The old scholar rubbed his hands and chuckled. "If I don't use you as a punching bag, should I really go throw a tantrum at that old man and Ritual Sage? I'm not stupid."
The golden-armored god had reached his limit. He slowly rose, a great sword appearing in his hand. Unexpectedly, the old scholar had already lain down on the ground, pretending to sleep. "Oh dear, the path of deduction is so mentally exhausting. It's killing me. I'll take a nap. If I snore, just bear with it."
The golden-armored god took a deep breath and sat back down in his original spot. After a long silence, he asked, "Are you really going to leave that Grand Tutor cooling his heels outside the gates of Mount Sui?"
The old scholar, his back to the mountain god, was snoring loudly, his fingers continuously making calculations. Without forgetting to remind the big fellow, "I'm already asleep, so if you ask me questions and I don't answer, it's understandable."
—
A vast sea of clouds.
Possibly vaster and more boundless than any sky in Haoran Heaven, or even any of the four worlds.
A tall woman, one hand holding a Tongye oil-paper umbrella, stood on a golden bridge, her other hand resting on a sword planted on the bridge.
The long sword pressed against the railing of the golden bridge, and from the tip of the blade, dazzling light like the sun's radiance spurted forth.
It was as if she had been honing the sword's edge all along.
It wasn't that she couldn't leave.
But a few years ago, a dying man had stood on this same golden arch bridge and spoken to her from the heart.
"The best whetstone in the world is not the Dragon-Slaying Terrace."
"For the pure and good, it is the many evil thoughts in the purest part of the human heart. Conversely, the same—both can sharpen the purest sword heart. The thousands of sword cultivators at the Sword Qi Great Wall, good and evil uncertain, yet their sword qi still like a rainbow—that is the proof."
"Before Chen Ping'an grows up, at most, you can draw your sword only once. One time, with the right measure. And I hope this one time is as late as possible—preferably after he forms his golden core but before he reaches Jade Purity. Any later, and it will be wasted."
"If there is a second time, it won't be some Grand Tutor from a school or a Vice Head of the Wen Temple, or the Second Holy One returning to Haoran Heaven."
That Confucian scholar with graying temples had pointed to the sky back then. "Ritual Sage's rules are the greatest and most stable. Once he shows up..."
"Fear and worthiness are not the same. So I implore you, Senior, to think more carefully, and think again."
After these words, there were more.
One sentence moved her the most.
"Back then, Senior had neither dislike nor liking for Chen Ping'an, yet chose him as a new master. Naturally, it was only because I, Qi Jingchun, convinced you to gamble on that one-in-ten-thousand chance. But doesn't Senior truly wish to confirm for yourself whether Chen Ping'an is worth entrusting all your hopes to? So that in the future, even after a hundred years, a thousand years, or ten thousand years, you will never be disappointed?!"
The following two sentences touched her heart and stirred her emotions.
"At that time, Senior probably didn't want to. But you must know that deep in Chen Ping'an's heart, he hopes more than anyone to prove that he has never let me, Qi Jingchun, nor you, be disappointed."
"Even at a time when Chen Ping'an had already lost faith in himself."
Thinking of this,
The tall woman pressed down lightly on the long sword in her hand. The tip of the sword, along with a large section of the blade, was directly driven into the railing of that golden arch bridge.