Chapter 450: Wait and See

Chapter 450: Wait and See

The matters of the congee shop and the medicine shop had already been resolved. Ma Duyi and Zeng Ye had initially assumed they would continue their journey as before, heading toward the border of Shihao Country. There were two male spirits, former border troops, whose unfinished business was related to this place. People could no longer return to their roots like falling leaves, but their wishes had settled on their hometown.

However, Chen Ping'an stayed another day. Until dusk on that day, he stopped at the city gate, gazing from afar as a thin, dark-skinned youth left the commandery city. He then went to see the already-closed dog meat shop in the shabby alley. On both sides of the shop's outer walls were posted the two door gods of the Great Li—Yuan and Cao, one holding a tablet and the other a mace. Only then did Chen Ping'an return to the inn.

Earlier at the city gate, Chen Ping'an had again encountered Guan Yiran, a military-attached cultivator of the Great Li. The latter deliberately dismissed his accompanying soldier guards and stood alone with Chen Ping'an at the city gate, asking softly, "Are you casting a long line to catch a big fish, temporarily letting the tiger return to the mountain in order to find this little demon's place of enlightenment and obtain some immortal artifacts or opportunities? Or is this the end, letting this little demon go far away, taking it as forming a good karmic connection?"

For mountain and river spirits to be able to transform into human form, they must possess great fortune. Either they stumbled into an abandoned immortal cave dwelling, or they swallowed a miraculous elixir like lingzhi that condensed the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. Whichever it was, the former offered a trail to follow, and the latter allowed direct refining of the spirit—both were considerable windfalls.

Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "It's the latter."

Guan Yiran said regretfully, "What a pity. If you hadn't shown up, two of my colleagues who always complain about not having enough to eat would have already set their sights on this little demon holed up in the dog meat shop. But since you intervened, I convinced them to give up. It was originally just an extra gain anyway. Besides, we still have military duties at ordinary times. Of course, if you had chosen the former, we could have done it together."

Chen Ping'an asked, "My butting in like this—doesn't it reduce your colleagues' income? Will it make it hard for you to deal with them?"

Guan Yiran smiled faintly. "Although those two friends of mine and I are cultivators, we are more members of the Great Li army. So having you say that, having this intention, is enough. When away from home, it's rare to meet a fellow countryman. We don't need to be overly polite, but some politeness is best when it exists; if it doesn't, no harm done. At worst, we can pretend not to recognize each other later, and then everything will follow the laws of Great Li and military regulations."

Chen Ping'an nodded deeply. "That's the correct principle."

Guan Yiran let out a hearty laugh. "I'm very glad to meet a capable fellow countryman like you in this place, so far from home."

Chen Ping'an clasped his fists. "For now, I cannot reveal my identity. In the future, whenever there's an opportunity, I will definitely find you, Brother Guan, for a drink."

Guan Yiran, this Military Secretary of the Great Li, raised his arm, made a fist, and tapped it lightly against the iron armor on his chest. "Then I'll take you at your word! Let me state in advance: on the battlefield, if a brother saves my life, I don't mind owing him my life. But if anyone owes me, Guan Yiran, a drink? Not even the Jade Emperor gets a pass!"

This chance encounter of fellow countrymen in a foreign land—both meeting and parting were thoroughly enjoyable.

After the young man in the blue cotton robe had left the city gate, two military-attached cultivators wearing specially crafted light armor from the Great Li arsenal slowly approached. One was a robust man, the other a slender woman.

The woman sized up Guan Yiran, who seemed still lost in thought, and asked curiously, "Yiran, the start of this year isn't exactly a good omen. You've thrown away so many immortal coins for nothing, and you're still this happy?"

Guan Yiran chuckled. "I'm happy. Gold can't buy my happiness."

The robust man said, "A young cultivator who can easily give away a Small Summer Coin, yet has no demands toward that little demon, and instead deliberately accompanies it all the way to the city gate. Plus, earlier in the city, he set up congee shops and medicine shops. According to intelligence reports, this isn't just one city or one place—it's everywhere. If it were anyone else, I wouldn't believe there could be such a compassionate cultivator from the mountains. But for this person, judging by his words and deeds, it all makes sense. I think Yiran did nothing wrong. He's a fellow countryman, and it's never a loss to have a friend worth drinking with."

The young woman, graceful and carrying a giant sword across her back, complained, "You men are all the same. When you happen to meet someone who suits your taste, you like to slap your face to pretend to be a rich man. Is it worth it?"

Guan Yiran said seriously, "Miss Qi, when you talk about us men like that, I take offense. I'm much richer than Yu Shanfang. I don't need to slap my face to pretend. Who was it that said I, a dandy from a wealthy family, even farted with the smell of copper coins?"

"You dog's mouth can't spit out ivory!" The woman, slender as a willow in spring, punched Guan Yiran in the shoulder, causing him to stagger back several steps. She turned and walked back toward the city wall.

Guan Yiran grimaced and rubbed his shoulder. It really hurt. He smiled bitterly. The robust man named Yu Shanfang looked on with schadenfreude.

The woman was a military cultivator from the Snow Wind Temple. Compared to the True Martial Mountain cultivators who mostly served as mid-to-high-ranking officers in the Great Li Iron Cavalry, this woman surnamed Qi did have the same opportunity, but she chose a different career path. The Great Li border army wasn't surprised by this. Military cultivators from the Snow Wind Temple were mostly like this—after descending the mountain, they liked to be lone rangers. Occasionally, some like this woman would serve as close bodyguards for important generals.

Yu Shanfang put an arm around Guan Yiran's shoulder and whispered, "Yiran, in all these years, take me for instance—I've known you for at least seven or eight years, and I still only think you're a general's descendant from the capital. A family of high but not quite first-rate status. Otherwise, back then, your family wouldn't have sent you to such a rotten place, where you stayed for almost three years, always one of the lowest-ranking military-attached cultivators in the border army. You have to know, that capital accent of yours is so annoying. But Qi Qi, who's only known you for less than two years and came south with us this time, is the only one who saw through your family background. She insists you're from a powerful noble family. Why? We brothers, who've frozen our asses together in the snow and shit together, don't quite believe it. Unless you two already are..."

Yu Shanfang, after Guan Yiran broke free, pressed his thumbs together and winked at the latter.

Guan Yiran said helplessly, "Everyone knows this Qi Qi has long admired her Snow Wind Temple's branch grand-uncle master, the sword immortal Wei Jin."

Guan Yiran sighed. "And I've long had a fiancée. Not hiding it—she really is a legitimate daughter of a capital noble family. But I've never met her. Funny to think: on the day I marry, when I lift the red veil, that's when I'll finally know what my wife looks like."

Yu Shanfang asked curiously, "Which unlucky girl ended up with a rough border soldier like you?"

"Don't badmouth your own brother like that." Guan Yiran placed the palm of one hand on the hilt of his standard-issue Great Li border army saber, walking shoulder to shoulder with Yu Shanfang on a foreign street. He looked around. On both sides of the street, nearly every door bore the painted door gods Yuan and Cao of the Great Li. The number of Great Li Pillar-of-State surnames was few. The surnames Yuan and Cao were undoubtedly among the greatest. But there were actually two other Pillar-of-State surnames that could rival them: one belonged to the mountains, almost never involving itself in worldly affairs, the surname Yu. The other was only in the court, never in the border army. Its ancestral home was in Yizhou, later moved to the capital two hundred years ago. Every year, when the legitimate descendants of this family returned to their ancestral home for worship, even the Great Li Ministry of Rites had to pay attention. Even the Great Li National Teacher once joked with His Majesty that a hundred years ago, during that chaotic and brutal period when eunuchs interfered in politics, external relatives usurped power, feudal lords rebelled, and cultivators ran rampant, throwing the entire Great Li into the most disorderly and lawless age—if it hadn't been for this family turning the tide and diligently acting as the menders of the Great Li dynasty, the Great Li would have shattered beyond repair.

Yu Shanfang interlaced his fingers, stretched forward, and cracked his joints. He, a half-"wild cultivator" who had been promoted step by step from a lowliest border scout to Military Secretary, said casually, "Actually, sometimes when we old brothers drink and chat, we do feel you're a bit different from us. But we can't quite put our finger on what the difference is. No way around it—compared to those scions of generals stuffed into the army, we're all guys whose eyes have been washed by border sand every day. We don't have sharp eyesight, far less than those official sons."

Guan Yiran smiled. "I recognize friends of three kinds. On the battlefield, those who dare to die without hesitation. In officialdom, those scholars with real backbone. And finally, on the mountains... good people."

Guan Yiran looked a little sad. "It's a pity that the first and third kinds don't seem to live long. The battlefield needs no elaboration—after so many years of life and death, we've buried our closest brothers, and we no longer cry our hearts out like women. As for the third kind, I once knew a young man named Yu Yin, someone my age whom I greatly admired. How good was he? So good that you'd think, no matter how bad the world is, with him ahead, speaking and acting, that's enough. You just need to watch that receding figure, and you'll feel happy. But such a good cultivator died so undeservedly. The family that had high hopes for him, and our court, chose to downplay the matter for the sake of the bigger picture. I think that's wrong. But will those big shots listen to the words of a small fry like me? No. Even if... my surname is Guan."

Yu Shanfang laughed and undercut him. "So what if you're surnamed Guan? That's not a big deal. It's not like you're from the Guan clan of Yunzai County, one of the Pillar-of-State families! Your official military roster clearly says you're from the capital. Our general, you know his character—he already dug up your background to the bottom. He told us you're from a third-rate general's family in the capital. Far from Yichi Lane, where Pillar-of-State neighbors Pillar-of-State and ministers argue with ministers over the wall. Even on Chi'er Street, where the general has a bunch of properties, your family couldn't afford a small courtyard. What, are you related to this Guan clan of Yunzai County? Because General Liu, that old comrade and rival, back then inexplicably discovered that one of his young scouts was actually a hidden second-rate general's scion from the capital, whose grandfather had served as a Grand General of the second rank and even received a mouth-watering posthumous title. Our general felt that Liu had one-upped him, and now he dreams day and night of his own subordinates hiding a top-tier general's brat. Hilarious."

Guan Yiran hesitated for a moment. "If I die one day, our general might cry, laugh, and curse me."

Yu Shanfang was shocked. "What? Are you really a disciple of the Guan clan from Yizhou?"

Guan Yiran nodded. "The Guan clan of Yunzai County in Yizhou. I'm a legitimate great-great-grandson. No way around it. Although my old ancestor wasn't a cultivator, his bones were exceptionally sturdy. At a hundred years old, he could still drink a catty of liquor and eat two catties of meat in one meal. Back then, even the National Teacher met him and found it surprising."

Yu Shanfang rolled his eyes. "I'll believe you when pigs fly! If you've seen National Teacher Cui, then I've seen His Majesty the Emperor!"

Guan Yiran let out a "Heh." "I said it, and you don't believe it. Believe it or not, not my problem."

Yu Shanfang asked suspiciously, "Really?"

Guan Yiran smiled and nodded. "Truly, I'm not lying to you. Remember the end of the year two years before last when I took leave to return to the capital? Qi Qi once said that she had followed her missionary mentor to the capital during the first month. Maybe she saw me on Yuhua Alley or Chi'er Street, when I was going door to door for New Year's visits. She caught a glimpse of me by chance. But those two places have strict rules, so Qi Qi didn't dare follow me. Of course, at that time, Qi Qi and I didn't know each other, so there was no need for her to investigate my identity."

Yu Shanfang stealthily reached out a hand, as if to touch Guan Yiran's head.

Guan Yiran dodged and said angrily, "What? Gone mad thinking about women, treating me like Qi Qi?"

Yu Shanfang rubbed his hands. "I've never touched a big shot in my life. Just want to satisfy my hands. Tsk tsk tsk, the Pillar-of-State Guan clan! Tonight, I swear I'll get you drunk and then feel you up to my heart's content. Call the old brothers, one by one."

Guan Yiran grinned mischievously. "If you can do such a wicked thing, then I'll go marry your sister, whom you've described as a fairy, and call you brother-in-law every day."

Yu Shanfang kicked Guan Yiran in the ass.

Guan Yiran took the kick and didn't dodge.

The two continued walking side by side.

Yu Shanfang suddenly sighed. "When the brothers left, you should have said something. Even if it was just a whisper to them."

Guan Yiran was silent for a moment, then shook his head. "I couldn't say it."

Yu Shanfang nodded gloomily. "I suppose so."

Guan Yiran suddenly laughed. "If I die on the battlefield one day, and the truth comes out, then it'll be something you and our general can pat your chests about and boast to other cavalry units."

Yu Shanfang shook his head. "Don't you die."

Guan Yiran shook his head too, slowly. "Just because I'm a disciple of the Guan clan of Yizhou, born into nobility, I can't die? That's not the logic of Great Li."

Yu Shanfang smiled. "You've misunderstood. I just think, the way you looked at that young man named Yu Yin back then, that's how I look at you now. In the future, when you become a high official in our Great Li court, even if you're in the capital, all dressed up, no longer wearing armor but official robes every day, and I'm still messing around in the border army, maybe we won't have anything to do with each other for the rest of our lives. But I'll still feel... at ease. Yeah, pretty at ease."

Guan Yiran nodded.

Yu Shanfang asked curiously, "I'm just wondering—why do you general's scions, big and small, all seem to like hiding your names and coming to be inconspicuous border scouts?"

Guan Yiran smiled. "On Yichi Lane and Chi'er Street, every general's scion with a shred of face wants to have been a genuine border scout in his life. Not relying on ancestors' merit, but on his own ability, cutting off enemy heads and hanging them by the saddle. Later, no matter why they return to Yichi Lane and Chi'er Street, even if it's the most down-and-out young man from Chi'er Street, once they've been a border scout, if they run into the grandsons of those ministry officials from Yichi Lane and get into a conflict, as long as it's not too unreasonable, they can just beat the other party up. Afterwards, they don't need to fear implicating their ancestors or families. Nothing will happen. From my grandfather's generation to mine, that's how it's been."

Yu Shanfang marveled. "That works?"

Guan Yiran stamped his foot and smiled. "That's why our Great Li Iron Cavalry's horses can tread here."

Yu Shanfang asked softly, "Yiran, is it possible that someday you'll become the first descendant of your Yunzai County Guan clan to receive a military posthumous commendation?"

"Jinjiyan, jinjiyan," (lit. "Borrow your auspicious words," meaning "I hope so") Guan Yiran quickly bowed in thanks. Straightening up, he joked, "Can't I get a posthumous commendation as a Patrol Envoy?"

Yu Shanfang patted Guan Yiran's shoulder. "Since you're already a Guan clan son, keep a low profile. Cut your tone down a notch. Otherwise, your capital accent is annoying enough. If you go on like this, you'll end up being felt up like a girl by me and the brothers every day."

Guan Yiran rubbed his chin. "Makes sense. Lots of sense."

—

At the summit of Sui Mountain.

The Golden Armored Deity said helplessly, "If you keep dragging this out like this, I wonder how you'll manage later. That busy Grand Sacrificial Official—how long have you been stalling him? Even if he previously admired your crooked reasoning, he'll run out of goodwill toward you."

The old scholar sat cross-legged, rubbing his ears with both hands. "If it's going to rain, let it rain; if mother wants to marry, let her marry. Let things take their course."

The Golden Armored Deity said slowly, "According to news, something is off at the Dragon Tiger Mountain Patriarch Hall. That Fire Dragon Elder from Beiju Continent—after he delivered that sword strike, it seems he did more harm than good."

The old scholar smiled. "How do you know that what looks like a great disaster in others' eyes isn't exactly the result that this Dragon Tiger Mountain non-clan Grand Heavenly Master wanted?"

The Golden Armored Deity had only mentioned it casually. Not to mention a non-clan Grand Heavenly Master, even if it were a clan Grand Heavenly Master from the Heavenly Master Mansion at Dragon Tiger Mountain, he, as the Great God of Sui Mountain, couldn't care less.

However, the three Grand Sacrificial Officials from the three branches of the Confucian school, who respectively visited Bai Ze, that smug scholar, and the old scholar, all hit dead ends. Some returned empty-handed, others couldn't even get an audience. Even the main deity of Sui Mountain Great Peak felt deeply worried.

Because the matter was simply too big, involving the most fundamental trends of the world.

The old scholar said, "My students—compared to the other major scholarly lineages—are very, very few. No way around it. My eye is picky. No one can compare..."

The Golden Armored Deity snorted. "Spouting such nonsense only for me to hear—what's the point?"

The old scholar nodded. "It's still better than saying it only to myself."

The Golden Armored Deity shut up.

The old scholar, seeing that the fellow wasn't bickering with him, felt a bit disappointed and had to continue. "The eldest, Cui Chan, has the most talent. He likes to delve into corners, which is fundamentally the best attitude for scholarship. But Cui Chan is too clever. He is pessimistic toward this world, and has been from the start."

"Consider the third, Qi Jingchun. His scholarship is the best, and not just the highest. Even I, his teacher, have to praise it: 'All-encompassing, a grand sight.' If he hadn't been stuck with a teacher like me, but had been in the lineage of the Ritual Saint or the Second Sage, his achievements might have been even greater. Qi Jingchun is optimistic toward this world."

"Back to the second, Zuo You. He has the most stubborn temperament, but he's actually a very good person. Especially good. Back when we were living poor in a shabby alley, I let him manage the money. He was far more useful at it than me, who couldn't hold on to a coin. Cui Chan wanted to buy chess manuals, Qi Jingchun wanted to buy books, Ah Liang wanted to drink—how could I not give them money? A skinny bamboo pole like me, I had to slap my face to pretend to be a rich man. With Zuo You in charge, I was at ease. Zuo You's aptitude, talent, natural gifts, and temperament—none are the best among my disciples, but he's the most balanced. And he has innate composure. So when he studied the sword, even though he started late, he was simply too fast. Yes, too fast. I was even a little panicked back then. Afraid he would become the first Fourteen Realm sword cultivator in the Haoran world in thousands of years. What then? Don't look at how he stays away from the human world; Zuo You is actually the one most afraid of loneliness. Although for over a hundred years he has kept away from the world, wandering on the sea, what is his true heart? It's still on me, his teacher, and on his junior brothers... A disciple like that, which teacher wouldn't like him?"

"Remember that year when a great scholar scolded me... indeed, quite malicious and mean. How could I bother arguing with him? Just a little academy sage, not even qualified for sacrificial service. If I went to argue with such a junior, it would be beneath me. So Zuo You sneaked over and beat him until he cried for his parents. Zuo You was too honest; he foolishly confessed and came back to admit his mistake to me. Admitting your mistake, admitting your mistake—admit your mother's mistake! Why didn't you just mask your face to beat him? Afterward, slip away and deny it. What can anyone do? Come hit me? Can you beat me, Zuo You? Even if you can, if Zuo You doesn't admit it, can that lineage's Deputy Leader beat you to death? If he can beat you to death, can't I beat him to death? Ah, so Zuo You is still lacking in wits. What else could I, his miserable teacher, do? After all, Xiao Qi and the others were watching. So I had to punish him, huh. I trotted over with Zuo You to apologize and make amends, doing this and that, compensating all around. What a hassle."

The Golden Armored Deity asked doubtfully, "Zuo You was willing to admit his mistake to you, but would he be willing to apologize to others?"

The old scholar rolled his eyes. "Of course, I explained the logic to Zuo You privately. 'You hit him so lightly—is that how a disciple of the Literary Saint acts? How does that avenge your teacher?' When I said that, Zuo You nodded silently, thought it was right, and said he'd pay attention next time."

The Golden Armored Deity chuckled. "I'm convinced."

The old scholar sighed. "As for the fourth, he's more complicated. He's only half a disciple. It's not that I don't recognize him—he felt his background was poor and didn't want to cause me trouble. So he doesn't recognize me. The reason is different, but the result is very similar to my secluded disciple. Besides them, the other registered disciples each have their own merits."

"Among them, Mao Xiaodong—in the matter of preaching, teaching, and resolving doubts as a teacher—is the most like me. Of course, his scholarship still isn't as high as mine, his teacher. He follows rules in everything, but he's still some distance from the so-called 'following one's heart's desires without transgressing rules' of the old gentleman. Unfortunately, things like this can't be pointed out loudly by others; one has to figure it out and see through it oneself. The Buddhist concept of the 'self-enlightened' is excellent. In this matter, the Daoists aren't as good..."

The old scholar didn't elaborate further, didn't speak of higher realms, and changed the subject. "As for me, when I argue with people, I never think I'm always right or always good. I have to know the good and bad of others. Otherwise, what's the point of arguing? I might have spoken to my heart's content, but where does all my learning land? Learning is most afraid of becoming water without roots—falling from the sky, lofty and seeming impressive, but beyond a few intellectuals praising each other, what's the meaning? If it doesn't touch the ground, doesn't nourish the land, doesn't truly benefit the common people, doesn't give them a 'big basket, small backpack' where they can place 'the myriad sufferings of life, my own place of peace to set them down,' and instead only stuffs in paper essays and makes people mistakenly believe those are words fit only for sages, then it will exhaust people to death. How can one expect the work of enlightenment?"

The old scholar stood up, his figure hunched, gazing into the distance, murmuring, "Innate goodness—is it wrong? Very right. But there's a very awkward problem here: if human nature is inherently good, why is the world so complicated? What has the Confucian work of enlightenment enlightened? Teaching people toward evil? Then what? The old gentleman and the Ritual Saint are waiting. And finally, they waited for me. I said: human nature is evil. Within one school, let them mutually encourage, discuss, and correct. The key is that I can also stand firm—my reasoning is sound. So I became the Literary Saint. But then an even more awkward problem arises. From your outsider's perspective, do you think the theory of innate evil can be one of the Confucian lineages? Sure. But can it truly become our main Confucian lineage?"

The old scholar asked and answered himself: "Absolutely not."

The old scholar raised his thumb, pointing at his own heart. "Even I think so."

Silence for a long time.

The Golden Armored Deity sighed rarely, with a hint of regret.

The old scholar didn't put down his thumb, suddenly sighing emotionally. "Thinking of it this way, I really have both sage and hero qualities. Impressive, impressive."

The Golden Armored Deity didn't say a single word.

The old scholar turned his head and said helplessly, "Why don't you retort a bit? Then I can convince you with reason."

The Golden Armored Deity said indifferently, "I won't give you that chance at all."

The old scholar made an "Oh" sound and said with relief, "Then it seems I've already convinced you with virtue."

The Golden Armored Deity took a deep breath.

Otherwise?

The old scholar suddenly became serious. "Don't rush to chase me away. I'm going to do the same as Bai Ze and that most disappointed scholar—wait a little longer. Although I don't know what they're thinking, I also want to wait and see."

The Golden Armored Deity asked, "What if, in the end, you're wrong? No regrets?"

The old scholar put his hands behind his back, squinting with a cold smile. "Regrets? From me, the teacher, to these formal disciples, no matter how they choose their great paths—regrets? None!"

—

On the golden arched bridge.

The sword had been thrust into the bridge railing. The tip and a small section of the blade had sunk into it, sparks flying everywhere, utterly brilliant.

The woman sitting nearby had placed the Tongye Umbrella across her knees. She stood up, opened the seemingly ordinary oil-paper umbrella, looked up, and in a flash—only the Tongye Umbrella remained suspended in place.

She took a step and arrived in a Blessed Land, right at the mouth of a well.

That "casually given" Tongye Umbrella was naturally full of deep meaning. But the original owner had given it; the new owner might not live to discover the truth.

But what did that have to do with the original owner? It was both calculation and not calculation. The Way can be spoken, but it cannot be spoken of.

Almost instantly, a tall, elderly Daoist appeared beside her, smiling. "Long time no see."

She paid him no attention, looked around, and nodded. "For the present time, this is considered a considerable undertaking."

The old Daoist smiled. "Otherwise, how could I go debate the Dao with the Dao Ancestor?"

She glanced at him.

The old Daoist was composed.

She gazed at a certain place in this Lotus Flower Blessed Land, as if suddenly understanding, and sneered, "You never forget your roots."

The old Daoist laughed heartily, very pleased. "Ride the momentum, a mere lift of the hand. Overturn heaven and earth, one continent sinks."

She frowned.

The old Daoist sighed. "But now is not the same as the old days."

She shook her head. "It's just that the owner has changed."

The old Daoist said nothing.

This matter—even he was not comfortable commenting.

She asked, "Just this small piece of territory?"

The old Daoist smiled. "Truly cannot give any more."

She seemed to lose interest, disappointed, and returned. Her form vanished, and she went back to her own world, putting away the Tongye Umbrella.

The old Daoist stood by the well, looking down into the dark, deep water.

He withdrew his gaze and looked up at the sky. "This is my gift for returning to the Qingming World—how is it?"

In the Lotus Flower Small Cave Heaven connected to the Lotus Flower Blessed Land, an old man was still watching a drop of water. Watching it fall from lotus leaf to lotus leaf, leaves of uneven heights. The water drop was the size of an ordinary raindrop, but many leaves were as large as mountains and peaks, and even larger ones were as vast as a province of a worldly dynasty. Thus, the vein of a lotus leaf could be tens or hundreds of miles long. So, the trajectory of a tiny water drop, where it ultimately fell, waiting for that result to emerge, would inevitably be an extremely long process.

The old man wasn't the least bit anxious.

Time passed, long and leisurely.

But as the greatest rule in heaven and earth, even the majestic River of Time had to divert itself when flowing past the old man.