Chapter 454: Bright Moon in the Sky
The river flowed past the window, eternal and unhurried. Chen Ping'an had only dozed off for a moment while leaning on the windowsill, yet his spirits had already lifted somewhat. This was a rare occurrence—Chen Ping'an had not slept soundly and sweetly for far too long.
Zeng Ye and Ma Duyi had not yet returned, and Chen Ping'an was still a bit worried.
As he had expected, after meeting with Zhang Ye, who had come to tip him off, and then returning to Shujian Lake before leaving Qingxia Island, this journey from Liuxia Pass into Meiyou Country had indeed been shadowy and elusive. Someone had been trailing them from afar, a figure of extremely high cultivation and profound concealment, so much so that Chen Ping'an only occasionally sensed something in his heart. Zeng Ye and Ma Duyi were completely in the dark from beginning to end. Chen Ping'an did not expose it, sparing them the anxiety that might cause them to slip up and invite unnecessary trouble.
Even though the other party showed neither goodwill nor hostility, it still made Chen Ping'an feel like he had thorns on his back.
Previously in Shujian Lake, there were only a handful of cultivators who could achieve this. Liu Laocheng of the Jade Foundation realm disdained such actions, and the old Nascent Soul Liu Zhimao would not behave this way.
As for the Great Li Song clan, they were unwilling to create complications. Moreover, Chen Ping'an was ultimately a subject of Great Li, and people like Lu Baixiang had all been registered under Great Li's household. Even among Great Li's higher-ups outside of Cui Chan, those who might be itching to act—such as the confidant spy of that palace consort—absolutely did not dare to meddle in the Shujian Lake chess game, because it was happening right under Cui Chan's nose. And when Cui Chan acted, he valued rules above all. Of course, the rules of Great Li—from the court to the military to the mountains—were almost entirely formulated by Cui Chan himself.
Chen Ping'an was almost certain that person was one of the foreign cultivators on Gongliu Island. The top leader was unlikely, as Shujian Lake was too important; otherwise, they wouldn't have acted to suppress Liu Zhimao. That required his personal presence on Gongliu Island. So it was probably the second- or third-in-command among those "river-crossing dragons" who were tailing him, waiting for an opportunity. A silver lining in misfortune was that the other party did not intend to kill him directly; it seemed they hadn't yet come up with a foolproof plan that left no loose ends. But once they acted, it would surely be with the force of thunder.
For this, Chen Ping'an felt a bit of gratitude toward Liu Laocheng. Liu Laocheng had not only refrained from giving advice to the other party, but had not even watched from the sidelines. Instead, he had secretly warned Chen Ping'an, leaking the heavenly secret. Of course, there was another possibility: Liu Laocheng might have already told them about the jade tablet accompanying the Sage's shrine in the Confucian Temple. The foreign cultivators might also be worried about mutual destruction, which would fundamentally ruin their grand plan in Shujian Lake.
However, Chen Ping'an vaguely felt that Liu Laocheng was... an interesting person. The former possibility seemed more likely.
It was a pity that Liu Laocheng was no longer the decisive figure in Shujian Lake's developments. The painstakingly crafted chessboard, along with the formations involving Liu Zhimao, Tan Yuanyi, and Liu Laocheng himself, had all been destroyed in one fell swoop. Chen Ping'an had to admit that this chessboard was only a step away from being overturned entirely. Now, it was Great Li's commander Su Gaoshan and those foreign cultivators who were playing chess in Shujian Lake, and everyone else, including Chen Ping'an, had to step aside.
But as for all his painstaking efforts and hard work ultimately being in vain, Chen Ping'an did not think so.
Whether to resign oneself to fate required knowing one's fate first. For example, when Chen Ping'an wanted to see Su Gaoshan and received the rather arrogant reply of "get lost," he could accept it calmly. Because his trip to Shihao Country—seeing, hearing, and listening firsthand, along with the earlier compilation of reports from Liuxu Island—had given him a fair understanding of Su Gaoshan's character. Born from a humble background, having endured hardships, and basing his standing on illustrious military achievements, a person like this, in a high position, was extremely resilient and had a heart like a rock. His state of mind was akin to a great cultivator's dao-seeking heart. Even if Cui Chan and Song Changjing had to reprimand or hold him accountable when giving orders, they probably still respected Su Gaoshan deep down.
Yet, resigning to fate—after all the hard work in the fields, only to have no harvest—would still bring disappointment.
In this respect, it was no different from Zhang Ye's appearance at Huluo Mountain.
Chen Ping'an wanted to touch the Sword-Nurturing Gourd and take a drink, but then remembered he had given it to Ma Duyi to hang at her waist. So he sat back at the table, thought for a moment, and then simply took out the calligraphy scrolls of that book-crazy county magistrate. He spread the pieces one by one and admired them, liking them more and more with each look.
A single breath running through, free and unrestrained, without any constraints.
How was this different from a martial artist throwing a punch?
The spirit was captivating; the turns and advances, the retreats and variations, all in harmony with the Dao.
How was this different from a sword immortal drawing a sword?
There are always commonalities in the principles of the world.
On each scroll, there were different personal seals of that young county magistrate. Most often one seal per scroll, rarely two seals.
One particular scroll bore content of great audacity: "If you hold my script before the water's edge, fear not that each character turns into a flood dragon and flees. If you hold my script while traveling at night, it will cause ghosts and gods to find no place to hide."
Adjacent to it were two seals: "Young Dragon's Spirit" and "Lean Dragon's Lush Spirit."
Another scroll had three seals stamped in rapid succession—pa, pa, pa. The young magistrate's action had left a deep impression on Chen Ping'an at the time. His face had shone with the brilliance of a banished immortal of calligraphy, laughing heartily and belittling princes and marquises. "Met a fool who bought my immortal words with celestial brew—how exhilarating!" The seals were "Kaiyuan," "Changshu," and "Ink Pool Immortal."
Chen Ping'an carefully put them all away.
In the future, he would definitely place them as treasures in the Fallen Mountain. No matter who asked, no matter the price, he would not sell them. They would be passed down as family heirlooms!
Thinking of this, Chen Ping'an couldn't help but break into a wide smile.
He stretched lazily, tucked his hands into his sleeves, and turned to gaze at the river.
There was once a beautiful line of poetry he had copied onto a bamboo slip from a book, a small slip carrying such a vast artistic conception.
"The myriad trees shed leaves, the sky stretches far and wide; the clear river in one line, the moon bright and clear."
The magnificent river scene outside the window unknowingly broadened his own heart as well.
Mr. Qi, on the Inverted Suspension Mountain, there was something I couldn't achieve back then. But after all my efforts, I might have already done it now.
When Zeng Ye and Ma Duyi returned, Zeng Ye was in high spirits, saying he had truly met the Water God Lord of Spring Flower River. The god wore a flower-adorned garment and was especially kind. He had even made a special appearance to greet them and personally led them on a tour of the Water God Temple.
Ma Duyi, however, rolled her eyes and said that old man's gaze was unsettling—lecherous. While looking at the Sword-Nurturing Gourd at her waist, he had also taken plenty of looks at her waist itself.
Chen Ping'an couldn't say much about this.
Spring Flower River was the largest river in Meiyou Country, and Meiyou Country had always revered the Water God. As the foremost river's righteous deity, the Spring Flower River Water God was certainly no simple figure.
In fact, Chen Ping'an had already seen quite a few mountain and river gods. The earliest was Wei Po of Chess Dun Mountain; then there was the half-mountain-and-river-spirit in the form of the wedding dress ghost; later, the Embroidery River Water God martial general who appeared beside Gu Can's father; the Buried River Water God Empress on Tongye Continent; and during his northward journey through Daquan Dynasty, he encountered a pair of rival gods engaged in a conflict of mountains and rivers, shaking the land and water. Of course, there was also that White Crane River Water God Empress in the Ziyang Mansion of Huangting Country, who had given Chen Ping'an a huge headache.
He wondered how things were back at his own mountain, Fallen Mountain, between the azure-clad child and his "jianghu" friend, the Yu River Water God.
Wei Po and Zhu Lian had sent flying sword messages to Qingxia Island, mentioning this matter briefly. They didn't say much, only that the Yu River Water God of Huangting Country had obtained a "Peace and Safety Talisman" and had personally visited Longquan Commandery. The azure-clad child had hosted a welcome dinner for him at Fallen Mountain, and later in the town, they had a farewell drink for the Water God. After that, the azure-clad child rarely mentioned this loyal and righteous good brother anymore.
Chen Ping'an was a bit worried, but with only a few words in the letters, it was hard to give any specific advice to the azure-clad child.
In the eyes of outsiders, the azure-clad child's almost childish code of brotherhood was something Chen Ping'an had never disliked. In fact, in his view, it was precisely the most precious quality of the azure-clad child.
Being a bit foolish was far better than being shrewd to the point of not being wise at all.
At least on Chen Ping'an's Fallen Mountain, this point was important, even crucial.
Because this was Chen Ping'an's small world, where he set the rules. His personal likes and dislikes were like those of the old Daoist of the Observation Temple in Lotus Flower Blessed Land—he was the "Lord of Heaven."
Outside that circle, he acknowledged that there were many shrewd ways of dealing with the world and different paths that everyone hurried to follow. He didn't dislike them; in fact, he found many of them worthy. For example, Sun Jiashu, who owned an entire hundred-mile street outside Old Dragon City—this young head of the Sun family was not just shrewd but possessed unique worldly wisdom. Yet in the end, Chen Ping'an and Sun Jiashu had to part ways at the Sun family's ancestral home. However, when Chen Ping'an finally left Old Dragon City by ferry, his impression of Sun Jiashu had deepened.
The same rice nurtures more than a hundred kinds of people.
Being willing to see the good in others prevents you from being narrow-minded.
But you also need to know the differences between others and yourself to understand why others live well or poorly.
Thinking and weighing, a hundred twists and turns.
It was like those cursive scripts of the young county magistrate—so wild and mad that at first glance, Zeng Ye couldn't recognize a single character. But when you got down to the roots, weren't they still characters?
When it came to viewing calligraphy and appreciating divine traces, you could say "I don't recognize the characters, and the characters don't recognize me," just glance at the momentum, and that was fine. But when everyone is in this complex world, if you don't recognize its various rules and constraints, especially those most basic and easily overlooked ones, life will teach you a lesson. This has nothing to do with good or evil. The Dao is impartial; the seasons turn, time flows, and no one can avoid suffering and then lament, "If only I had known earlier."
Chen Ping'an was somewhat worried. That little Daoist boy carrying the golden Sword-Nurturing Gourd, the fire-tending child, had said he would move to another world. Didn't that mean the Lotus Flower Blessed Land would also be taken to the Azure Underworld? What about Zhong Qiu, the National Master of Nanyuan Kingdom, and Cao Qinglang? Would they have a chance to meet again? The flow of time in the blessed land was controlled by the old Daoist. Could it be that the next time Chen Ping'an managed to return to the blessed land, Zhong Qiu would already be an ancient figure with a great posthumous title in Nanyuan's history? And what about Cao Qinglang?
Chen Ping'an had always thought fondly of that kind-hearted child Cao Qinglang and never stopped missing him.
Zeng Ye and Ma Duyi sat at the table chatting, cracking melon seeds. Gradually, they noticed that Mr. Chen seemed a bit melancholy again.
But fortunately, this melancholy was different from before. It wasn't heavy—just the wistfulness of thinking of someone or something, like the green bubbles floating on the surface of wine, not the heartbreak of aged liquor.
Yet this accountant never spoke of his joys and sorrows, always enduring them alone.
This made Ma Duyi and Zeng Ye feel a bit lost inside.
A knock came at the door. This inn by the river, a celestial establishment, had delivered another edition of Meiyou Country's own celestial gazette, fresh off the press, carrying the unique long-lasting fragrance of immortal ink.
Chen Ping'an thanked them and started flipping through it. After scanning two sides, he handed it to Ma Duyi, saying helplessly, "Su Gaoshan has begun a full-scale assault on Meiyou Country. The border lines near Liuxia Pass have all been lost."
The gazette had a detailed account of this matter.
Zhou Mi, one of Meiyou Country's three water army commanders, was stationed to defend the upstream region of Spring Flower River. He had already defected to the Great Li Iron Cavalry and intended to lead a rebellion, secretly contacting Great Li. But the Meiyou Emperor, who had been aware of it in advance, dispatched several royal guest cultivators to join forces and kill him. Among the Great Li army cultivators accompanying Zhou Mi at the time, three died in battle, including one native Great Li Golden Core earth immortal. Su Gaoshan was enraged and made three of his generals sign military pledges: within one month, each must attack to one of the three key points of Meiyou Country, forming an encirclement around the stubbornly resistant Meiyou capital. He also vowed to cut off the Meiyou Emperor's head and use it as a wine flask, offering it as a toast at the graves next Qingming Festival.
Zeng Ye just watched for the excitement; he didn't understand much anyway, only marveling at how powerful and domineering the Great Li Iron Cavalry was.
Mountain cultivators often didn't have deep feelings for their homeland. The longer they cultivated, the longer they remained apart from the mundane world, the more indifferent they became.
They stood by with folded arms and looked on coldly.
Otherwise, it meant their cultivation wasn't high enough, that they hadn't truly stood at the summit, and were still swept along by the general trend, forced to descend from the mountain.
That was why the middle-aged Daoist they had encountered by the stream, who had voluntarily descended the mountain to help the needy at the foot, earned Chen Ping'an's respect. However, along the path of cultivation, once inner demons arise, the suffering and confusion are truly beyond outsiders' words. Chen Ping'an wouldn't insist that the middle-aged Daoist must stay firm in his heart and do good deeds in the mortal world to be on the right path; otherwise, it would be inferior.
Ma Duyi could see further than Zeng Ye. She asked in confusion, "Why is Su Gaoshan in such a hurry to take Meiyou Country? I don't know much about military affairs, but having traveled through Meiyou Country's roads, I know its waterways are crisscrossed and not suitable for Great Li cavalry to gallop freely."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "When we say 'Great Li Iron Cavalry,' it doesn't mean they only have cavalry. It's just that Great Li is world-famous for its cavalry, which easily makes people think their infantry is mediocre. On this southward journey, what dynasties and vassals haven't been taught a lesson? Taking Meiyou Country is an inevitable trend for Great Li. But you're right: rushing to take it will definitely cost more than breaking through the capital of Shihao Country. Both sides' military losses will be greater. The mystery here might be clear only to Su Gaoshan himself. I suspect someone is urging Su Gaoshan and Cao Ping—perhaps the real backbone of the Great Li Iron Cavalry, the vassal king Song Changjing."
Ma Duyi hesitated. "Why does it seem you don't really care about battlefield affairs? And you don't care as much about the lives of battlefield warriors as you do about ordinary people?"
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment, then drew a circle on the table with his finger. "There's a saying from my hometown: 'The earthen jar always breaks by the well, the general must die on the battlefield.' Joining the army and fighting on the battlefield means tying your life to your belt. Take that general's ghost at the Lingguan Temple—do you think he regretted dying for his country after death? And those scattered soldiers from Shihao Country who fought over food with the common people in that small county—that young soldier, even after losing so many comrades, would he really be willing to draw his blade against ordinary folk?"
Chen Ping'an drew a larger circle. "You may not know this, but earlier in Shihao Country, in a dog meat shop in a prefectural city, I stopped a young mountain spirit who wanted to kill someone and even gave him an... immortal coin. But if the demon race were to launch a full-scale invasion of the Righteous Qi World, if that day really comes, even if I know there might be among the demons an old fox spirit from an ancient temple or that young spirit who ultimately gave up killing, what would I do when faced with an overwhelming army marching forward, with me alone standing before them and the city and its people behind me? Would I go into their ranks and ask each demon one by one, 'Why do you want to kill? Would you be willing not to kill?'"
Chen Ping'an said calmly, "If I choose to stand there and block the way, it means I am prepared to die if necessary. Since they have fought their way there, they should be prepared as well. Military sages sit in the ruins of ancient battlefields, sitting in the heaven and earth, just as Confucian sages sit in academies and Daoist perfected lords sit in temples. Why do they have such advantages of heaven, earth, and people? This is probably part of the reason. When they are in such a position, outsiders must follow the local customs."
Chen Ping'an asked, "Can you understand what I'm saying?"
Zeng Ye honestly shook his head.
Ma Duyi asked, "I understand the general principle, but then another question arises: What if outsiders can forcefully break into the sage's heaven and earth? Doesn't that mean the original principle is wrong?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "This shows you haven't thought through why the sage can sit in the heaven and earth. That's the root, the thread's end, the starting point of the sequence. After that, you can still wonder why it can be broken by external force, by seemingly unreasonable outsiders who beat reason with fists. And why I say 'seemingly' is even more complicated. I'll explain it when we encounter a concrete situation in the future. Otherwise, you'll only think it's more and more of a mess, as if there are principles everywhere, but nobody follows reason."
Ma Duyi nodded. "Alright, I'll wait and see."
Chen Ping'an smiled, "But I hope there won't be such an opportunity."
Ma Duyi was even more perplexed.
Chen Ping'an said slowly, "We've seen with our own eyes the misfortune of Shihao Country—only the poets and heroes benefit from it. The mournful sound of a fallen kingdom, the bitter words, the civil and military officials who died for their country—these are most easily remembered by history. We've also traveled through Meiyou Country and seen more of the hardworking common folk, the grumbling poets and scholars, living fairly stable lives. Would you say Shihao Country or Meiyou Country is more fortunate?"
The answer was obvious.
To die a martyr's death is ultimately a last resort. Not regretting it doesn't mean there is no sorrow. And living well, even if not entirely comfortably, is always the simplest wish of the common people.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "We don't know many simple truths. It's hard for us to truly empathize with the suffering of others. But isn't that our fortune?"
Even the best of good people cannot truly feel the deep anguish of another's suffering.
Back in the Colorful Garment Country, in the Rouge Commandery, the young Zhao Shuxia, holding a firewood knife, protected a little girl. Why was she only willing to trust Chen Ping'an? Because children are often more sincere, more sensitive to suffering, and less able to withstand it. That little girl, nicknamed Luan Luan, sensed a common thread of joy and sorrow in Chen Ping'an's more similar circumstances. In her eyes, Chen Ping'an wasn't necessarily better than the equally kind older girl beside him at that moment.
At this point, Ma Duyi and Zeng Ye exchanged glances.
Chen Ping'an finally said with a calm expression, "But these blessings—being blessed without knowing it—where do they come from? Shouldn't we know and cherish them? When no one is willing to look into this matter deeply, and disaster comes, don't complain or cry out for mercy. The heavens probably won't listen, right? That's probably why there are Bodhisattvas sitting backwards on the altar. But I still think scholars should take up some responsibility at such a juncture. Having read more books than the common people, holding official titles, bringing glory to their families, enjoying greater blessings—they should bear more of the burden."
Chen Ping'an gently placed his hands on the armrests of his chair.
When every person sits improperly, seeking only comfort, the tenon and mortise loosen, the chair wobbles, and the world becomes unstable. That's why the Confucians emphasize self-cultivation and rectitude—one must sit upright and be cautious when alone.
After seeing Shujian Lake, he was so disappointed.
But when Chen Ping'an left Shujian Lake, traveled more roads, and thought about more things, he became less disappointed.
After a short two-day rest, they left this celestial inn and headed to the southernmost part of Meiyou Country.
On the southward journey, Chen Ping'an met a down-and-out scholar. His speech and dress revealed a background of considerable family wealth.
At that time, the Meiyou scholar had become disheartened with his official career, but being well-off, he had hired a horse-drawn carriage and servants to accompany him on sightseeing adventures through dangerous and secluded mountains. Among them, someone was tempted by the sight of money and colluded with two others to commit murder and robbery, almost pushing the talkative scholar who loved to chant poetry off a cliffside plank path. Had a kind-hearted porter not desperately stopped them, the scholar would have perished before Chen Ping'an even had a chance to intervene. Afterward, his family might not even have found his bones.
Chen Ping'an stopped them and asked the scholar how he wanted to deal with the carriages and servants. The scholar was an odd one: he gave them the wages they had earned, let them leave with the money, and said he had remembered their household registrations. If they dared to commit evil again and he learned of it, he would settle the new and old accounts together—a capital crime would be nothing. He kept only the carrying porter.
Then the scholar insisted on traveling with Chen Ping'an, changing his route to go south together.
The scholar fell in love with Ma Duyi at first sight.
Chen Ping'an wasn't blind, and even Zeng Ye could see it.
Moreover, the scholar's attempts to show off were rather clumsy. He would find things to talk about, deliberately engaging Chen Ping'an in lofty discussions, criticizing current affairs, or reciting poems about the spectacular scenery, lamenting his own unappreciated talent.
Ma Duyi was extremely annoyed. For the first time, she wanted Mr. Chen to put away his fox-skin paper talisman and stash her in his sleeve, so she wouldn't have to see or hear him anymore.
If the scholar hadn't at least maintained the minimum dignity of a scholar—refraining from flaunting his family background—Ma Duyi would have cursed him out and told him to put away his bellyful of resentful ink.
The scholar was clearly a member of a Meiyou aristocratic clan. Otherwise, the pride in his speech—about how he had passed the imperial examinations at the top at a young age, and after three years of training in the capital's Hanlin Academy and the Ministry of Revenue, he was sent to a local post, where he implemented various measures to reform official malpractice in his county—would not have been so evident.
He genuinely wanted to be a good official and earn a reputation as a "Great Pure Heaven" magistrate.
Unfortunately, when he left office, instead of receiving an umbrella of gratitude from the people, he got only a heap of complaints. His subordinates cursed him behind his back for being pedantic, not knowing how to secure benefits for the government, only causing them trouble. Local gentry also cursed him for not understanding practical affairs. The common people cursed him too, accusing him of seeking fame and wasting public resources.
One day, while talking about his grievances, having drunk too much wine, the scholar's eyes brimmed with tears. He no longer cared about pretending to be a literary master in front of Ma Duyi.
Chen Ping'an didn't say much.
He only gave a brief account of his own rough views on honest officials and good officials, roughly explaining the advantages of the former and the difficulties of the latter.
After listening, the scholar became heavily intoxicated and indignantly said that the "harmonious light and dust" in officialdom was already unacceptable; if one had to wallow in the mire with everyone else, then what was the point of being a scholar or an official? A true scholar should rely on genuine talent and learning, gradually advance to the central government, and then cleanse the corruption—that was self-cultivation and governance. Otherwise, it was better not to be an official at all, as it would betray the sage's principles in the books.
Chen Ping'an smiled and said that made sense.
He didn't add another word of advice.
It wasn't that Chen Ping'an thought the reasoning was unsound or that the scholar's ideas were too naive.
Rather, it was because Chen Ping'an had seen such troublesome matters for scholars with his own eyes.
Wu Yuan, bearing the title of national teacher's disciple, had faced obstacles everywhere when he first served as magistrate in Longquan. Was it that the great clans feared Cui Chan? No, they just used soft, smiling nails buried inside and outside the yamen, causing Wu Yuan headaches and a bumpy official career. Eventually, he had to "move out" of the town to make room for the legitimate sons of the Yuan and Cao families. As Longquan was upgraded from county to commandery, Wu Yuan naturally rose from magistrate to commandery governor. But Chen Ping'an dared to assert that Wu Yuan's reputation in the Great Li court had plummeted. Having a background and backing, going smoothly for a time was not hard, but it was destined not to last a lifetime. The hardships involved—whether for the wealthy or the children of the powerful—could still be distressing and miserable.
In fact, back then, Wu Yuan had once said a heartfelt word to a young friend from a capital aristocratic family, a civil secretary. He clearly explained the difference between asking them to write plaques for the civil and military temples or asking their families to break the deadlock in Longquan. The goodwill of incense-fire bonds, not just among friends but even within families, would eventually be used up—don't squander it recklessly.
If Chen Ping'an heard this story and these words today, he might sit down with Wu Yuan for a good drink. Those words alone were worth a fine pot of wine.
In Lotus Flower Blessed Land, Chen Ping'an had seen many children of high-ranking officials who, when assigned to local posts, thought they could handle it. Yet many went from glory to obscurity to complete silence. Along the way, they sometimes took shortcuts that broke the rules. After gaining temporary benefits, local officials would silently retaliate, becoming more united and sophisticated in their rejection, treating these capital-born officials like fools to be toyed with.
So, while Chen Ping'an now feared Su Gaoshan—a man who rose from a mud-legged soldier to a military general—he also did not underestimate Cao Ping, whose noble surname gave him an unparalleled advantage in the early stages of his official career.
Ma Duyi was furious. She held back as long as she could, but finally couldn't bear it anymore and wanted to speak. Chen Ping'an shook his head and motioned for her to stay silent.
Chen Ping'an could actually understand this scholar's dilemma.
It was exactly the same as his own situation in Shujian Lake.
Should he collaborate with the tiger to get its skin? Should he become an ally with Liu Zhimao, who was supposed to be a mortal enemy, someone with whom he should have an undying feud? Together, they could establish rules for Shujian Lake. If he didn't, he would save himself worry and effort. If he did, besides avoiding troubles, in the still of the night, he would have to ask himself if his conscience was shortchanged. Would he, like Gu Can, one day take a wrong step and never be able to turn back, unknowingly becoming the kind of person he had once disliked the most?
Chen Ping'an respected the scholar's choice.
Perhaps giving up on an official career was not a bad idea. With top scholar talent and family background, he could immerse himself in learning for decades, cultivate disciples across the country—wasn't that also a better way to break the deadlock?
It was true.
That beautiful possibility lay ahead on the scholar's path.
How could Chen Ping'an bear to say more, telling the scholar he was wrong, that he must, for the sake of the common people's welfare at a given time and place, become a scholar with a guilty conscience? On the court, one more good official would appear, but the country would lose a true teacher. The gains and losses were something Chen Ping'an dared not judge.
These thoughts, winding and turning, came from what he had read and experienced, from books and life.
Many words he had once known only as good principles, but didn't understand wherein their goodness lay—words from Mr. Qi, from Ah Liang, from Old Man Yao, from those bamboo slips, from all sorts of people—these principles left to the world became clearer and clearer, as if later generations had picked up the threads, neatly and truly.
Where there is gathering, there is parting.
Even if the scholar liked Ma Duyi immensely, even if he didn't care about her coldness and distance, he still had to return to the capital. Wandering through landscapes for pleasure was not a scholar's proper career.
When they parted, he finally revealed his family background. After all, if Mr. Chen ever wanted to find him for a drink, he needed an address.
It turned out the scholar was the legitimate grandson of the Minister of Public Works of Meiyou Country.
Meeting by chance, they drank together; parting, they could always agree to drink again. This was probably the essence of good jianghu.
Zeng Ye still didn't quite understand why Mr. Chen was willing to spend so much time with a pedantic scholar, even going a hundred extra miles of scenic routes to accompany him.
Even if the scholar was the grandson of a minister—so what? Zeng Ye didn't think Mr. Chen needed to cultivate such a relationship with a mortal figure.
It wasn't worth it.
Not to mention Mr. Chen, even Zeng Ye himself, a mountain marsh wild cultivator who hadn't yet entered the Middle Five Realms—this had nothing to do with the pride of mountain cultivators. But when Zeng Ye encountered the same kind of people and events, at most he would save them, have a drink, and then part ways.
However, since it was Mr. Chen, Zeng Ye was relieved. Wasn't it Ma Duyi who had said Mr. Chen was "not straightforward"? Zeng Ye felt that too, but differently. Zeng Ye thought this kind of Mr. Chen was just fine. Maybe in the future, when he had reached Mr. Chen's level of cultivation and state of mind, he would also talk more if he met such a scholar again?
Zeng Ye's dao-seeking heart had subtly shifted. From initially wanting to cling tightly to Mr. Chen's sleeve to survive, he now wanted to live more vividly even after leaving Mr. Chen—to live differently from the wild cultivators of Maoyue Island and even the entire Shujian Lake.
For example, being more patient with the mortal commoners down the mountain?
Zeng Ye couldn't fully understand it yet, but at least he had started thinking.
The tall youth probably didn't know that the boy from Nil Bottle Alley had once walked the same path before becoming the accountant of today.
After parting with the scholar, the three of them rode to the southernmost city of Meiyou Country, named Jingzhou. The highest official there was not the prefect, but the master of the Water Transport General's Office. The general was one of the high-ranking officials second only to the Water Transport Governor. Chen Ping'an stayed for ten days, because he found that the area was rich in spiritual energy, far surpassing ordinary towns, which would benefit Ma Duyi's and Zeng Ye's cultivation. He chose a large inn by the water and let them cultivate in peace while he wandered around the city. During this time, he heard many things. The general had an only son, mediocre in learning, with no hope of passing the imperial exams and no interest in an official career. He spent his days lingering in brothels and entertainment quarters, with a notorious reputation. However, he didn't go around bullying men or abducting women. He had one odd hobby: he liked to have his servants catch large numbers of cats, dogs, foxes, and the like, then break their legs, twist them backwards, and watch them writhe helplessly, taking pleasure in it.
Soon, a horrifying rumor spread from the general's office: the general's only son had had his own hands and feet twisted and broken, just like the cats and dogs that had suffered under him. His mouth was stuffed with cotton, and he was left on the bed. The young man, whose body had already been hollowed out by wine and women, was severely injured but not dead. The general was furious. After confirming it was the work of a demon, he spent a fortune to invite immortals from two celestial caves down the mountain to subdue the demon, and also hoped their immortal arts could heal his crippled son.
At that time, Chen Ping'an happened to be walking by the canal and saw a group of mountain immortals entering the city on a small celestial boat.
The leader standing at the bow was actually a Dragon Gate realm cultivator.
In a vassal client state like Meiyou Country, summoning a Dragon Gate realm cultivator was a great expense, indicating that the general's mansion was indeed filthy rich.
Besides facilitating Zeng Ye's and Ma Duyi's cultivation, there was another, more hidden reason for staying in Jingzhou.
According to the celestial gazette from the inn by Spring Flower River, the sudden appearance of a woman in green robes and a boy in white had once intercepted, in the skies over Jingzhou, that old Golden Core sword cultivator from Zhuyin Dynasty who was said to have "one foot already in the Nascent Soul realm." Besides this encounter, there were three more "halting" battles before and after Jingzhou. Finally, on the border between Meiyou Country and Zhuyin Dynasty, they killed that sword cultivator.
Chen Ping'an suspected that Cui Dongshan and Ruan Xiu were "fishing"—luring one or two Nascent Soul sword cultivators to leave their mountain peaks, lose the protection of their mountain-river formations, and then rush recklessly into Meiyou Country's territory to rescue that Golden Core sword cultivator, who was a pillar of the state with promising dao prospects.
Otherwise, with Cui Dongshan's Nascent Soul cultivation and his array of magical treasures, dealing with a Golden Core sword cultivator wouldn't require any trouble.
It was very likely that somewhere along the Meiyou border, either the military sage Ruan Qiong or the Mohist Xu Ruo was hiding. Even if both were there, Chen Ping'an wouldn't be surprised.
True to the reputation of a Dragon Gate realm registered immortal, after joining forces with another smaller group of colleagues, they healed the nobleman's son—though he would walk with a slight limp and would never be able to lift heavy objects again. The immortals used celestial secret treasures and a spiritual creature to follow clues, and that very night they found the demon that had dared to strike the general's mansion. A bloody battle ensued in the city. The immortals struck with increasing ferocity, while the demon kept dodging and weaving, barely escaping.
In fact, being able to torture the general's son in such a fitting manner, sneaking in and out quietly, meant it would have been easy to kill the young man. But for some reason, the demon had only injured, not killed, him.
In the night, Chen Ping'an watched from atop the city wall, hands in sleeves, standing by.
If that demon hadn't been foolish enough to choose a route unfavorable for escape, Jingzhou would certainly have seen heavy casualties that night. It wasn't that subduing demons was wrong, but that the registered immortals' every move showed no regard for consequences.
In the end, the demon still managed to escape the city.
The immortals fluttered over the city wall like butterflies and birds, leaving behind the canal transport soldiers who could only wave flags and shout. They continued the chase outside the city. The soldiers inside the city would never have imagined that the two groups of immortals, after charging out in full fury, would soon stop. Even though the demon's trail was lost, they deliberately flourished their magical artifacts, blasting and smashing an empty area in a dazzling display.
Meanwhile, the old Dragon Gate realm immortal, who had never exerted his full strength, changed direction as he left the city and quietly slipped away from the demon-catching team.
Chen Ping'an leaped down from the city wall and followed at a distance.
In the mountains more than twenty li from Jingzhou, Chen Ping'an stood on a branch of a large tree, watching as the old cultivator, after a bout of fighting, successfully bound the fox demon, which had revealed its true form, with a silver-white magical artifact, the Demon Binding Rope.
Having succeeded, the old cultivator dragged the blood-soaked white fox with the rope and came straight toward Chen Ping'an, laughing. "What, you want a piece of the pie?"
Chen Ping'an floated down to the ground and smiled. "You've done a good business, old immortal. Your disciples will go back to the general's mansion and tell a story about a stubborn great demon, hard to tame. The city folk all saw your efforts—impressive and dazzling. That high-ranking official will be restless and obediently hand over a large sum of immortal coins, begging you to continue the demon hunt. Meanwhile, you secretly caught this beast, and later you'll find some newly transformed fox spirit, hand it over to the general's mansion, and everyone's happy."
The old immortal stroked his beard and chuckled. "You've got good eyes, young man. Among my dull-witted disciples, there are a few blockheads who wouldn't understand even if you spelled it out for them. You saw through the whole scheme with just a few glances."
Chen Ping'an joked, "You're not thinking of silencing me, are you, old immortal?"
The old immortal laughed heartily. "I'm not some crazed wild cultivator who would abandon parents and master for money. Name your price. If it's reasonable, consider it a windfall you deserve. A horse doesn't get fat without night feed, eh?"
Chen Ping'an asked, "May I ask what you intend to do with this creature?"
The old immortal tugged on the rope; the demon wailed piteously. "After all, it's a spirit that has labored to the Observing Ocean realm. If I take it back to my sect, discipline it, remove its malevolent aura, and make it an honored guardian of the mountain, it wouldn't be a bad fate for it. Though I say so myself, this might be a stroke of fortune on its path to the Dao."
Chen Ping'an nodded and smiled. "Half truth, half lie—I'll let that slide. Still, I advise you to think twice before trying to capture me with that Demon Binding Rope."
The old immortal's eyes flickered darkly. "Young man, you really don't know what's good for you. Judging a gentleman's heart with a petty man's measure—aren't you afraid good fortune turns into disaster?"
Chen Ping'an tucked his hands into his sleeves and withdrew his smile. "You should actually be grateful to this demon. Otherwise, with the amount of evil you wrought in the city earlier, you'd already be half dead by now."
The Dragon Gate realm old immortal laughed as if he had heard the greatest joke under heaven. His laughter shook the leaves, which rained down.
Chen Ping'an sighed. "Having a knack for making money, and taking from the ill-gotten wealth of canal officials—I think that's fine. But to make money, disregarding the lives of commoners, and then cooperating with others, waiting for them to arrive to catch the demon and kill people, wiping out the roots—that's not very kind."
The old immortal looked at the young man, who at first glance seemed like an invalid.
The more he looked, the more uneasy he felt.
Thus, he grew more wary.
Among cultivators, once enmity is truly formed, it often ends only with the complete extinction of one side—or a century of entangled grudges.
Chen Ping'an said, "I'll pay you to buy it. What do you think?"
The old immortal hesitated.
Chen Ping'an tossed out a jade token.
Top distinguished guest of Qingxia Island.
The old immortal dared not reach out to catch it—cultivator secret arts were strange and varied; who would let their guard down?
Chen Ping'an didn't immediately retrieve the jade token. He let it hover in the air, allowing the Dragon Gate realm old immortal to examine it closely. Then he tossed out a Grain Rain coin. "Now that Qingxia Island is in a bit of turmoil and not as prestigious as before, and since you're a fairly well-known registered immortal in Meiyou Country, you're still alive. Otherwise, you'd be dead by now, and this Demon Binding Rope would be in my possession. Take the money and quiet down. Otherwise, you and your disciples should stay obediently on your mountain and cultivate in peace."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Of course, one Grain Rain coin isn't exactly a fair price. But if the price were fair, would it be worthy of this jade token? Right, old immortal?"
Chen Ping'an slapped his Sword-Nurturing Gourd.
Two flying swords shot out, coming and going in a flash.
The old immortal's eyelids twitched violently. He waved his sleeve, pushing the jade token back to the young "sword immortal" in the blue cotton coat, then pocketed the Grain Rain coin. He made a bow of the hand and laughed. "No battle, no acquaintance. If you trust me, you can visit Dragon Coil Mountain someday."
Chen Ping'an put away the jade token as the First and Fifteenth swords flashed back into the gourd. He smiled faintly. "With such sharp business sense, I wouldn't dare come knocking to give you money."
The old immortal laughed heartily, shook the rope, and let the white fox fall to the ground. He put away his magical artifact and said some rather tough words: "As long as Qingxia Island stands firm in Shujian Lake, this little Dragon Coil Mountain will only send money, not accept gifts—too hot for the hands. But if Qingxia Island falls one day, I hope we don't meet again. It would damage our goodwill."
The old immortal didn't mince words. Having said his piece, he left immediately.
Chen Ping'an leaped to a branch and waited a moment before floating down. He was truly gone.
The white fox, curled up on the ground, was healing itself while staring wide-eyed at the young cultivator.
Was he really a sword cultivator?
She hadn't dared to make a spectacle of herself since descending the mountain, and had met few cultivators. So this was her first time seeing a sword cultivator.
Chen Ping'an waved his hand. "Go. Don't pretend to be weak anymore. I know you can't fight, but you can walk without trouble. Remember not to appear in Jingzhou again for a while."
She blinked.
Chen Ping'an joked, "What, do you blame me for ruining your dao fortune at Dragon Coil Mountain?"
She spoke in a clear, crisp voice. "Dragon Coil Mountain keeps a very terrifying evil python, a true mountain guardian that likes to devour spirits. That old villain was lying to you. You must be careful in the future."
Chen Ping'an nodded, indicating he would keep it in mind. Then, instead of walking forward, he crouched down on the spot. "Are you surprised that I, a wild cultivator from Shujian Lake, saved you?"
She quickly shut her mouth, saying nothing.
Chen Ping'an smiled and tossed out a small porcelain bottle, which rolled to rest in front of the white fox. "If you're worried, you can keep it without eating for now."
She finally couldn't help but ask, "What does the young master seek?"
Chen Ping'an smiled faintly. "Then let me ask you: when you nearly got caught in the city to avoid harming the innocent, what did you seek?"
She squinted her eyes—a fox doing that looked especially funny, like a human woman. She said in a coquettish voice, "Young master, are we kindred spirits?"
But soon she looked distressed, a bit apologetic.
She felt that saying so might be a disservice to her benefactor.
Because among those fortunate enough to be born human, one of the worst insults was "worse than a beast."
Chen Ping'an didn't confirm or deny. He waved his hand. "Go on, go on. The human heart is a treacherous whirlpool, very frightening. Don't rely on your cultivation to play games in the mortal world. You've already won once against heaven and earth to gain this cultivation—cherish it. But when you contend with humans, you're no match for those wild cultivators and registered immortals. Go. Even if you can't resist coming down to the human world again, be careful when wandering the marketplaces. And don't ever think you'll always meet someone like me. How do you know that today's good person won't become a villain tomorrow?"
She gently raised a paw to cover its mouth and laughed. "Someone who can say that—how could they ever become a villain? I don't believe it."
Chen Ping'an remained crouched, hands in sleeves, and smiled. "Believe it or not, it's up to you. But let me warn you: that old villain from Dragon Coil Mountain might change his mind. After meeting up with the other immortals, he might come back to catch you and feed you to that evil python."
The white fox hesitated for a moment, then quickly picked up the porcelain bottle and dashed off with a whoosh. But after running a dozen or so paces, she turned around, stood on her hind legs, and made a bow like a human parting.
The young man just sat there crouched, but he didn't forget to wave back.
After that little creature had gone far, Chen Ping'an stood up and slowly walked back toward Jingzhou City, as if taking a night stroll through the mountain forest.
Thinking about how he was another Grain Rain coin poorer, he sighed and told himself he couldn't be so wasteful next time.
But this accountant probably forgot that when he had given away a Lesser Heat coin at that dog meat shop, he had said the same thing.
Chen Ping'an completely forgot about that. As he strolled, he looked up at the bright moon hanging in the sky—so pure that it made one forget the mundane.
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