Chapter 470: Never Seen a Half-Immortal Weapon Before?
At the first light of dawn, at the city gate of Rouge County in the Kingdom of Colorful Garments, a group of wandering martial heroes who had traveled from afar sat on horseback, waiting for the gate to open. Among them was a renowned martial elder from the Kingdom of Combing Water, seated high on his horse, idly rubbing a mutton-fat jade handle piece in his palm. With nothing else to do, he glanced around and spotted a dusty young wandering swordsman approaching from a distance. The young man looked weary, but his eyes were not dull. The old man thought the youth must be a practitioner, but judging by the depth of his footsteps, his skill wouldn't be too high. The old man let his gaze wander further, taking in some women and young girls, but mostly rustic village women with rough skin and plain features, which left him somewhat disappointed. He hoped that after entering the city, the women of Rouge County wouldn't all be like this.
The young man in blue glanced at the crowded area outside the city gate, then decisively walked toward a breakfast stall. There were no stools left to sit on, but he still ordered a piece of sugar-oil cake and a bowl of white rice porridge from the stall owner. After receiving the food, the stall owner wanted to remind him to return the bowl and chopsticks, but upon noticing the long sword on the guest's back, he swallowed his words. Jianghu people—better to be polite. The young wandering swordsman paid, then crouched by the roadside, eating the cake with the porridge to finish a simple breakfast. But he ate very slowly. By the time the sword-carrying youth returned the bowl and chopsticks to the owner, the city gate had already opened, and he stood by the roadside waiting.
The old man put away the uncarved jade handle piece and couldn't help glancing again at the younger generation's martial junior. He smiled knowingly. At this age, he himself had already made a much better living than this.
Chen Ping'an paid no attention to the old man's scrutinizing gaze. He followed the crowd, presented his travel permit, and entered the city. It wasn't that Chen Ping'an didn't want to fly back on his sword to that house; it was simply that he was utterly exhausted. The round trip from Rouge County to Hazy Mountain had drained him. If he pushed any further, it wouldn't be a case of hard training on the corpse-sitting fist stance, but rather a corpse falling from the sky. While sitting in this stance, as long as he could endure it, it would benefit the soul. But when the soul gained, the physical body suffered, damaging the vital essence. If the water was full and the vessel shattered, it would be overdoing it.
Still, using the corpse-sitting posture to travel far on the sword in the future was indeed a good method.
But doing this on Treasure Bottle Continent was one thing. Once he reached Northern Frigid Reed Continent, where sword cultivators were as numerous as clouds, it might not be feasible. Over there, if someone took a disliking to you, they only needed some seemingly absurd and ridiculous excuse to start a fight that would end with brains splattered everywhere.
Chen Ping'an didn't go directly to Old Fisherman's house. Instead, he first went to the City God's Pavilion. But upon inquiry, he learned that the City God had been replaced—no longer the Golden City God, Lord Shen. Chen Ping'an sighed. This wasn't the Kingdom of Colorful Garments' court burning the bridge after crossing the river. Rouge County was a key location in the kingdom. After Shen Wen's golden body dissipated, a new City God had to inherit the divine position to oversee the county's mountains and waters.
So Chen Ping'an didn't enter. Instead, he followed a route he had taken years ago to a still-secluded small Earth God temple. The temple was too small to have a caretaker. Even those who came to burn incense and pray brought their own. It was here that he had bid his final farewell to Rouge County's Golden City God, Shen Wen.
After a moment's thought, Chen Ping'an stepped over the threshold. Taking advantage of the empty space, he took out three sticks of incense from his Cunjian object. The fragrance was fresh, truly a mountain object. It could not only repel mosquitoes when lit but also ward off evil in the mundane world.
Back then, on the way to Lion Garden from the Water God Temple of the Kingdom of Green Luan, the person who had handed them incense had caught up to them and passed on a bamboo incense tube given by the temple keeper. Later, when he counted, there were twenty-four rare water incenses inside. This time down the mountain, he had left most of the water incenses at Fallen Mountain, but he had brought the tube with only three sticks of incense, to be prepared for unexpected needs. He hadn't expected to use them now. Offering incense to mountain and water deities had certain taboos, but in places like the City God's Pavilion or civil and martial temples, mountain and water incenses were fine.
Chen Ping'an gently twisted the incense tips, and they lit on their own without fire.
He stood firm, raised the incense above his head, and silently spoke in his heart.
Finally, he inserted the three sticks into a bronze urn, closed his eyes for a moment, then turned and left.
Returning to the house in the alley, Chen Ping'an knocked on the door ring again.
This time, it wasn't Zhao Shuxia who opened the door, but Zhao Luan. When she saw Chen Ping'an, the little girl's eyes were deep and seemed to speak as if they could talk.
Old Fisherman Wu Shuowen and Zhao Shuxia stood by the screen wall inside the courtyard.
Having spent time with Pei Qian and the pink-dressed girl, Chen Ping'an was used to rubbing heads to get by. But he suddenly remembered that Luan Luan was now a young girl in age and appearance, so he had to smile and say, "It's fine now. The cultivators at Hazy Mountain were reasonable enough. Luan Luan, from now on, just stay by your master's side and cultivate in peace."
Zhao Shuxia secretly clenched a fist in celebration.
Sure enough, Teacher Chen, who taught him boxing, was all-powerful!
Though Wu Shuowen was full of questions, he couldn't ask in front of the two children. He just nodded to Chen Ping'an with a smile, and they walked together to the hall in the back courtyard.
This time, Zhao Shuxia and Zhao Luan still drank tea to slowly nourish their souls.
Chen Ping'an, on the other hand, took the initiative to bring out two jugs of Crow Cry Wine, one for himself and one for Old Fisherman.
Wu Shuowen said regretfully, "It's a pity Luan Luan and Shuxia are still too young to drink."
After just one sip, Wu Shuowen couldn't bear to drink more. He chuckled, "I'll save it. I'll save it for later, when the two children are older and drinking becomes reasonable. Then I'll take it out."
Chen Ping'an quickly pulled out another jug of Crow Cry Wine, stood up, and placed it in front of Wu Shuowen. He said helplessly, "Teacher Wu, your skill at tricking people into giving you wine is really something. Just drink freely—I still have more."
Wu Shuowen was not polite at all. As he drank Chen Ping'an's wine, he didn't mince his words either. "Young Master Chen, don't measure a gentleman's heart with your own petty thoughts."
Chen Ping'an smiled and raised his wine jug. Wu Shuowen did the same, a toast in silence, and they each drank.
Chen Ping'an didn't plan to go into detail about his trip to Hazy Mountain. But looking at the delighted Old Fisherman, he said softly, "Teacher Wu, the matter at Hazy Mountain is completely settled. If you're still worried, it wouldn't hurt to travel to various kingdoms first. Besides, Shuxia and Luan Luan have reached the age to broaden their horizons. Seeing more of the world outside, even just gaining some jianghu experience, is ultimately a good thing."
Wu Shuowen nodded. "Agreed."
Chen Ping'an sipped his wine slowly, a smile on his face. He chatted casually with Wu Shuowen, asking about the court and jianghu situations in the Kingdoms of Colorful Garments and Combing Water. Occasionally, he glanced at the boy, who seemed to covet the fine brew, and the little girl, who stole glances at him from time to time. Chen Ping'an's state of mind returned to peace, like a ruler falling back from its two ends to the middle.
In truth, the first time inside the house, Zhao Shuxia had been very familiar with drinking tea, without any awkwardness or unfamiliarity—clearly, he was used to it.
This was what Chen Ping'an admired most about Wu Shuowen.
Zhao Luan had talent for cultivation, which already made her worlds apart from Zhao Shuxia. Moreover, Zhao Luan's aptitude for cultivation was excellent, which meant that, according to common sense, the Zhao Luan who had once needed Zhao Shuxia's desperate protection would soon make Zhao Shuxia, who only knew how to stupidly practice boxing, unable to even see her back on the path of cultivation. Wu Shuowen was certainly aware of this, but this kind of immortal tea that cost immortal money was still shared equally—Zhao Luan drank it, and Zhao Shuxia had his share too, with no distinction between closeness or status.
This was not treating the siblings as disciples; it was raising them as his own children. To put it bluntly, even many parents in the world might not treat their biological children without such partiality.
Chen Ping'an felt that this old Confucian scholar of modest cultivation was a true gentleman of benevolence.
Precisely because of this, he dared not give too much Crow Cry Wine.
The things he had originally thought of doing were also reconsidered again and again.
For example, should he give immortal money for Zhao Luan's future cultivation path? How to give it? How much? Would Teacher Wu accept it? How to make him accept it? And even if he accepted, how to ensure Teacher Wu had no reservations in his heart?
Going back and forth like this, Chen Ping'an felt that Ma Duyi was right—he was too indecisive. But he couldn't change it overnight.
Chen Ping'an suddenly said apologetically, "Teacher Wu, there's something I need to tell you. I might teach Shuxia a few more fist stances today, but at the latest before the night curfew, I'll have to leave for the Kingdom of Combing Water. I'll be leaving in a hurry, so even if you plan to travel to Combing Water first, we still won't be able to travel together."
Wu Shuowen hummed in acknowledgment. "On the path of cultivation, one cannot be delayed too much by worldly affairs. This is not a derogatory statement; it's simply the truth."
Chen Ping'an stood up, rolled up his sleeves, and said to Zhao Shuxia, "Come to the courtyard. I'll teach you a breathing technique, a standing stance, and a fist posture. Just these three things—don't think it's too little."
Wu Shuowen, wanting to avoid suspicion—since either boxing techniques or cultivation formulas should not be casually heard even among fellow disciples—intended to take Zhao Luan away. But the usually obedient and well-behaved little girl refused to leave.
The old gentleman was puzzled.
Chen Ping'an noticed the situation inside the room and hesitated. Then he smiled and said, "It's fine. Listening in won't hurt, but allow me to add one more thing—never leak it. Only the four of us should know."
Wu Shuowen sighed, shook his head, and walked away alone.
Zhao Luan propped her cheeks with both hands, sitting on the thresholdless doorway, and said softly, "Teacher Chen, just tell my brother the formula. I won't eavesdrop. I just want to watch you two practice boxing."
Chen Ping'an was indeed worried that the formula for Eighteen Stops of Sword Qi might conflict with Zhao Luan's current cultivation method, so he used a martial artist's technique of compressing sound into a line to transmit the formula to Zhao Shuxia. He repeated it three times until Zhao Shuxia nodded that he had memorized it all. Only then did Chen Ping'an begin teaching the boy a sword furnace standing stance, a new fist posture that combined Zhong Qiu's Big Dragon with Zhu Lian's Ape Form Intent, along with a six-step walking stance—all fundamental martial arts that couldn't be over-practiced. He believed that with Teacher Wu supervising, Zhao Shuxia wouldn't harm himself by training too hard.
Chen Ping'an not only demonstrated the standing stance and fist posture himself but also explained them to Zhao Shuxia with extreme patience and meticulousness. He broke them down step by step, explained each phrase, then brought it all together, clarifying the respective principles and outlines of the fist stance and posture. Finally, he extended to various subtle and profound meanings, narrating them in a relaxed manner, advancing step by step. When Zhao Shuxia didn't understand something, Chen Ping'an would, like in boxing sparring, repeatedly elaborate on the current step.
Zhao Shuxia was certainly not stupid—much better than Zeng Ye.
Zeng Ye, that blockhead, could make even the patient Chen Ping'an want to scratch his head, tempted to learn from the old man in the bamboo building who fed punches to teach: Don't understand? One punch to enlighten! Not enough? Two punches!
Zhao Luan propped her cheeks, watching the two people in the courtyard, a smile spreading across her lips.
In truth, on the path of cultivation, whether it was herself or her brother Zhao Shuxia, their master had many worries too.
For example, she was afraid of many outsiders' eyes. She was actually very timid. For example, when her brother saw cultivators of the same age over the years, he would also feel envy and loss, though he hid it poorly. Their master would often stare blankly alone, worrying about daily expenses, frowning over family matters.
Zhao Luan felt she was no longer a little girl who knew nothing.
In the courtyard, Teacher Chen, who looked more like a scholar than before, still had his sleeves rolled up, teaching her brother boxing. When he performed the standing stance or assumed the fist posture, in her eyes, it was no less impressive than his earlier sword flight.
Yet, after their reunion, Teacher Chen still clearly treated her like a child. She was very happy about it, but also a little unhappy.
Lunch was cooked by Zhao Shuxia, and Chen Ping'an helped.
The master scolded that a gentleman should stay away from the kitchen, but he didn't skimp on the food or the wine, drinking until his face was flushed red.
In the afternoon, Teacher Chen, without any impatience, accompanied her brother in practicing boxing, demonstrating the moves over and over.
As dusk approached, Chen Ping'an glanced at the sky and smiled at Zhao Shuxia. "Alright, that's enough. Remember, don't neglect the six-step walking stance. Try to reach five hundred thousand punches. Follow the method I taught you: before throwing a punch, assume the fist posture. If you feel the intent isn't right, if there's the slightest off-ness, don't throw the punch or walk the stance. When you're tired from practicing, use the formula I taught you to practice the sword furnace standing stance during breaks. We're both slow-witted, so we'll honestly use the clumsy method to train. One day, at some moment, you'll feel a flash of inspiration. Even if that day comes late, don't be anxious."
Chen Ping'an rolled down his sleeves, smoothed them gently, and patted Zhao Shuxia on the shoulder. "Alright, that's all I have to say."
Zhao Shuxia wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Zhao Luan had already stood up.
Chen Ping'an said, "I'll go talk to Teacher Wu about something, then I'll leave."
He found Wu Shuowen practicing calligraphy in the room. Chen Ping'an sighed, intending to speak frankly. When it came down to it, the drafts he had prepared were useless. "Teacher Wu, Luan Luan is your disciple. By all rights, I shouldn't meddle. But Luan Luan is at a critical stage in her cultivation. For a Qi refiner to break into the Cavern Dwelling realm a day earlier is a great thing. So I've prepared a sum of immortal money..."
Wu Shuowen smiled and said nothing.
Chen Ping'an had no choice but to steel himself and continue, "Along with a few talismans as a farewell gift. Also, a transcribed manuscript of 'The Orthodox Sword Canon,' along with a dharma sword bought from an immortal shop named Qu Huang—a replica, of course, with not very high rank—I'll give them to Shuxia for self-defense. But regarding Shuxia's sword practice, I hope Teacher Wu will check it for me. When you think his boxing has achieved minor success, then hand over 'The Orthodox Sword Canon' and the replica Qu Huang to him. To be honest, if Teacher Wu agrees, I would like to take Shuxia as a nominal disciple. If fate allows in the future, and Shuxia is willing, and Teacher Wu doesn't object, Shuxia and I can become formal master and disciple."
Wu Shuowen gestured for Chen Ping'an to sit. After Chen Ping'an sat down, he smiled and said, "What, worried I might be too embarrassed to accept? That would be underestimating how much Shuxia and Luan Luan mean to me."
Wu Shuowen sighed emotionally, "As for Shuxia, it's fine. I don't need to do much for him; in fact, I can't do much. So your willingness to accept him as a nominal disciple and decide after a few years whether to formally take him in is certainly a great fortune for Shuxia. I have no objection. But to be honest, leading Luan Luan this girl on the path of cultivation—I'm truly stretched thin. 'A single coin can stump a hero'—that's the truth. I'm not trying to claim credit or complain, but over the years, to avoid delaying Luan Luan's cultivation, I've borrowed immortal money from mountain friends more than a few times."
The old scholar sighed deeply, then laughed heartily, "Now that I've exposed my family's shame to you, can I rest assured that you'll give us master and disciple some immortal money? Feel free to give more. I'm no good at fighting to the death anymore, but carrying some immortal money on me isn't hard."
Chen Ping'an took out the manuscript of 'The Orthodox Sword Canon' from his Cunjian object, along with a Qu Huang sword, three golden talismans, and a handful of immortal money, gently placing them on the desk.
Initially, Wu Shuowen was still stroking his beard and smiling. But when he got a clear look at the immortal money, he was silent for a long time before finally asking, "Do you run a bank on the mountain? I can understand the Minor Heat coins, but why are there three Grain Rain coins?!"
Chen Ping'an looked stunned and asked, "You think this is too little? Do you really want me to sell everything I have?"
Wu Shuowen was caught between laughter and tears, not expecting Chen Ping'an to be so "shameless." He picked out the three Grain Rain coins and said firmly, "Take these back. This really isn't necessary. When Luan Luan breaks into the Cavern Dwelling realm in the future, you can give her a few more, and I won't stop you. But not now."
Chen Ping'an didn't insist.
He put away the three Grain Rain coins, which were originally his bottom-of-the-barrel assets for this trip down the mountain, and cupped his hands in farewell. "Teacher Wu, no need to see me off."
Wu Shuowen stood up. "I'll at least see you to the door. That much courtesy is necessary."
Leaving the room and entering the courtyard, Zhao Luan had already retrieved Chen Ping'an's bamboo hat.
Zhao Shuxia smiled and said, "Luan Luan and I will see Teacher Chen to the city gate."
Chen Ping'an took the bamboo hat and shook his head. "No need. I plan to travel quickly."
Zhao Shuxia scratched his head.
Zhao Luan said timidly, "Then let's see you to the house gate."
Chen Ping'an smiled and nodded.
Wu Shuowen walked back into the room, looking at the items and immortal money on the table. He shook his head with a smile, finding it all incredible. But when he saw the three golden talismans, he understood.
It was still the same person, just changed from a boy to a young man.
Wu Shuowen stroked his beard and smiled, "Thanks to Luan Luan, in this life, I've finally seen more than one Grain Rain coin."
Outside the house.
Chen Ping'an put on his bamboo hat, preparing to fly directly on his sword to the Sword Water Manor in the Kingdom of Combing Water, where he still owed a hotpot meal.
Zhao Shuxia was fine; he didn't show too much sadness at the parting.
He kept chatting with Chen Ping'an.
But the little girl said nothing.
Zhao Shuxia seemed to suddenly remember something, said he would go back first, and let Luan Luan say goodbye to Teacher Chen on her own.
Chen Ping'an was amused. Kid, aren't you misusing your cleverness?
Zhao Luan kept her head down.
It was as if not speaking would prevent the parting.
Chen Ping'an hesitated for a moment, then gently patted the little girl's head and called her name, "Luan Luan."
Zhao Luan looked up, her face slightly flushed.
Chen Ping'an wasn't stupid.
The way the little girl looked at him was different.
Sometimes, the word "like" would show in the eyes even if the mouth didn't say it.
So Chen Ping'an thought for a moment and said softly, "Luan Luan, let me tell you what's on my mind. Let's consider it a little agreement between us, okay?"
Zhao Luan was a bit flustered but also a bit expectant.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "You like me, don't you?"
Zhao Luan suddenly turned bright red.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "I like you too, but it's a bit different, because I already have a girl I like. But for now, you can still like me. I don't think that's necessarily wrong. Just go ahead and like the Chen Ping'an and Teacher Chen in your heart. But I hope that in the future, when you've grown a bit more—maybe three years, five years, or even longer, ten years—you might meet a boy or a young man you think is really nice. At that time, don't be afraid. After thinking it over carefully, if you find you truly like him, don't miss out on him, okay?"
Zhao Luan blinked.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Alright, if you don't say anything, I'll take it as agreement."
He adjusted his bamboo hat. "I'm going now."
The immortal sword unsheathed, and he flew away on his sword.
Zhao Luan looked up.
A head poked out quietly from the gate.
But the boy didn't know that someone was standing behind him. And obviously more experienced than him, the old Confucian scholar had already turned around silently.
Zhao Luan turned around and happened to see her master's back and Zhao Shuxia's head.
She lowered her head, covered her face with both hands, and quickly ran into the house.
Zhao Shuxia ran after her while declaring with conviction, "Luan Luan, I didn't hear a single word! If I did, I'll change my last name to match yours!"
A voice came from ahead, "Master truly didn't see or hear anything. As a Confucian student, one should not look at impropriety or listen to impropriety. But Shuxia—that's another story. Master saw with his own eyes that he was sticking out his butt and perking up his ears for quite a while."
Zhao Shuxia came to an abrupt halt and immediately started running toward the gate. Every time Luan Luan got angry enough to be embarrassed, she would lose control of her strength. And he couldn't hit back.
Above the clouds, Chen Ping'an wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling more exhausted than running two round trips to Hazy Mountain.
Zhu Lian really needed a beating. What use was a bamboo hat?
But after his complaint.
Sitting in a meditative pose on his immortal sword, Chen Ping'an smiled knowingly.
In the end, he had still treated Luan Luan like a little girl. When someone likes someone, it's like a child craving a candied hawthorn stick or a piece of cake. The liking is genuine, but it's not really romantic love. It's more about dependence, trust, and the shared joys and sorrows from that fateful encounter back then.
And being liked like this—pure and simple—what's wrong with that?
Even if she stops liking him in the future, when the little girl finds a man she truly loves, that's another kind of beauty.
Chen Ping'an declared loudly, "Let's go! To higher places!"
The immortal sword beneath him suddenly plummeted sharply.
---
On a mountain path along the border between the Kingdoms of Colorful Garments and Combing Water.
A figure in blue robes walked slowly, carrying a large bamboo box on his back and holding a rough walking stick hacked from a branch. He had walked over a hundred li of mountain roads and finally entered a dilapidated ancient temple in the darkness. It was covered in cobwebs. The statues of the Four Heavenly Kings of Buddhism were still toppled on the floor, just like before. Occasionally, gusts of draft wind would blow through the temple, making it eerie and gloomy.
The young man lit a campfire, then closed his eyes, dozing off. He seemed worried about the goblins and ghosts from the books appearing, so he didn't dare fall truly asleep.
Around midnight, the sound of cheerful female laughter arose, approaching from afar.
The blue-robed scholar, who seemed to be traveling with a book satchel on his back, lowered his head, a faint smile curling at the corners of his mouth. But when he looked up to peer outside, his expression had already shifted to one of bewilderment and surprise.
The ancient temple was quite large, so the campfire was not close to the gate.
Three graceful women in colorful skirts appeared: a young girl with almond-shaped eyes and a round face, a tall woman of about twenty with her hair in a high bun, and a voluptuous matron with loose, flowing hair that looked like "blooming flowers" and smooth, glossy locks. They frolicked and played, the matron's form particularly swaying, as they laughed and drifted into the temple like colorful butterflies. When they saw the wide-eyed young man, they seemed a bit shy, halting in embarrassment. They gathered together, slowed their steps, and pushed each other gently as they approached the campfire and the scholar.
The matron seemed bolder. She crouched down, stretched out her hands to warm them by the fire, staring directly at the young man.
The tall woman stood to the side, looking down coldly, as if assessing whether this young man was a dangerous scoundrel.
The girl with almond-shaped eyes was the shyest. She stood sideways, her ten fingers interlaced, her head bowed, staring at the tips of her embroidered shoes peeking from under her skirt.
The matron suddenly paused.
Because the young scholar suddenly broke into a smile, as if he could no longer maintain his earlier "pretend seriousness."
The voluptuous matron, still crouching, directly pulled an embroidered handkerchief from her full, snow-white bosom and fanned herself lightly, her voice soft and seductive. "Young sir, are you feeling hot? Your servant suddenly feels she's wearing too many layers."
Chen Ping'an kept his hand close to the fire and smiled. "If you feel hot, why are you still warming yourself by the fire?"
The matron was at a loss for words, then threw a charming, sidelong glance and laughed so much her whole body swayed. "Young sir has quite a sense of humor. You must be a man who understands romance."
Chen Ping'an chuckled. "Then keep laughing for a while."
This made the alluring beauty laugh for a bit, but soon she couldn't laugh anymore. Not wanting to lose like this, she licked the corner of her mouth and squinted, smiling. "Young sir, you have a handsome face—pleasant to look at, and your words are pleasant to hear. I wonder if they're also useful?"
Chen Ping'an still smiled. "Auntie, you're quite funny too."
The matron's smile stiffened.
Chen Ping'an, who had deliberately come back in this guise and to this place, looked the three over again, finally fixing his gaze on the most timid girl. He opened his mouth and smiled. "Alright, I know all about you. We've dealt with each other before."
The three women: the voluptuous matron was bewildered and plaintive, covering her bosom with her handkerchief; the tall woman frowned; the girl with almond-shaped eyes ignored him, still shy and embarrassed on her own.
Chen Ping'an added another dry branch to the fire, still smiling at the girl wearing embroidered shoes. He wondered if she never learned her lesson or if she simply loved cleanliness too much—her embroidered shoes and skirt didn't have a speck of dust despite walking mountain paths. He said slowly, "Don't remember? Let me help you recall. About seven years ago, four out-of-towners were sitting in my spot here: a bearded hero, a young Daoist, a refined scholar, and a shabby boy... Hmm, later we met again at Sword Water Manor."
The girl with almond-shaped eyes stopped standing sideways. Facing Chen Ping'an, she covered her mouth and giggled. "How could I forget? That time, I suffered a great loss at your hands and that old bastard Song's. Just thinking about that miserable affair still makes my poor heart ache terribly. You stinking men, none of you know how to cherish the fairer sex. You killed my two poor maids just like that. If I'm not mistaken, you were that young man who was the most ruthless in plucking flowers back then, weren't you? Oh my, you've grown more handsome as you've aged. I wonder what brings you here this time?"
She paced half a circle around the campfire, her hands behind her back, always keeping a certain distance from Chen Ping'an. "What, could it be that you're no longer the ignorant youth of before, but have started to understand the taste of women? After savoring mortal women, you've grown tired of them, so you've come here for a fresh taste? Want to try the bedchamber skills of us beautiful ghosts?"
Chen Ping'an waved his hand. "I wouldn't dare. I know that madam likes to stir-fry hearts and livers, preferably from cultivators, because they don't have an earthy smell."
Chen Ping'an glanced toward the temple gate. "It seems that after Elder Song used you as a sacrifice for his sword back then, he killed quite a few of your enslaved ghosts and yin creatures in one go. Now you've lost the momentum you once had."
The almond-eyed girl pouted, extending an embroidered shoe to gently poke at the fire. "Go on, tell me. You lured us out this time—what do you want?"
Chen Ping'an asked, "After the battle at Sword Water Manor, the original Four Evils of Combing Water suffered heavy losses. Some died, some ran away, and some... never mind, I don't need to go into that. I already knew. But on the side of the Kingdom of Colorful Garments, I heard that soon there were new Four Evils of Combing Water. Some of them were old powers that had risen to take their places?"
She crouched down and sighed. "Two of them kicked the bucket. They weren't blessed with fortune. They were casually killed by some cultivator called Wu Mishu Lang from Great Li. The one left was originally just a lackey running errands for others' amusement. He almost packed up and moved out of fright. I talked him out of it, saying moving might make life better for the living, but what's the point for a ghost? Fortunately, he took my advice and prospered. But I've regretted it ever since. In those chaotic years, his business boomed, and he gathered a large group of ferocious enslaved ghosts. He became strong and never provoked the Great Li barbarians. He lived a very comfortable life, and even got an imperial title that made me envious. Not only did he stop mentioning the title 'Four Evils of Combing Water,' he nearly kidnapped me to be his mountain stronghold wife. This world—it's hard for people to live, hard for ghosts to exist. What's going on?"
Though Chen Ping'an was staring at her, he also kept a corner of his eye on the other two female ghosts.
The one in the form of a young girl was a ghost of considerable cultivation among the ghosts of Combing Water. But to Chen Ping'an now, that didn't matter.
What mattered was that back then, when the old Sword Saint of Combing Water, Song Yushao, faced her, he had consulted the old almanac and said, "Suitable for fasting, suitable for seeking wealth." Then the ghost took out a Minor Heat coin, and Elder Song let her go.
At first, Chen Ping'an had thought it was because of the almanac—that this female ghost, notorious in Combing Water, had been lucky that night. Later, when he and Elder Song went to a small-town tavern for hotpot and chatted, he learned that among the Four Evils of Combing Water, this female ghost was the most complex in background and behavior—the kind that killing wouldn't be unjust, but not killing wouldn't necessarily be entirely bad either.
Chen Ping'an sighed. "Tell me, how many mortal men have you harmed over the years?"
She rolled her eyes. "Saying 'harmed' sounds terrible. It was mutual consent. They got the pleasures of men and women, and my sisters and I got yang qi, so we didn't have to become vengeful spirits suffering eternal damnation. Everyone was happy. Of course, when we encountered those who you cultivators wouldn't bother with and the authorities couldn't control, I wouldn't mind frying up a few plates of stir-fried hearts and livers."
Chen Ping'an didn't say anything, as if recalling some old memories.
She put her hands behind her back and clicked her tongue. "I really didn't recognize you. If you hadn't said anything, no matter what, I wouldn't have. Back then, you seemed like a pretty dark-skinned young boy. They say women change eighteen times before adulthood. What about you men?"
Chen Ping'an said jokingly, "Since you wouldn't recognize me even if I were beaten to death, I could consider not beating you to death."
She glanced at the blue robe he wore and suddenly grew angry.
She turned to glare at the tall woman. "Don't think I don't know you're still carrying on with that poor scholar! Are you thinking he'll help you escape your suffering one day? If you don't believe me, tonight I'll send you to that beast. He's now a legitimate mountain god! A mountain god taking a concubine—even if it's not as grand as taking a wife, it's not bad!"
As she spoke these words, the almond-eyed girl's eyes turned pitch black, her body exuded oppressive ghostly energy, and her barely exposed embroidered shoes glowed with a slowly shifting crimson, like blood flowing on the fabric.
The tall female ghost was terrified. She fell to her knees with a thud, trembling all over.
The voluptuous matron smirked contemptuously. Perhaps there was some jealousy mixed in that contempt.
Chen Ping'an glanced at the temple gate and waved his hand at the three female ghosts. "Leave."
A moment later.
The female ghost in the form of the almond-eyed girl frowned deeply and said in a low voice to the two remaining "maids" by her side, "You two go first! Go out the back door and return directly to the mansion..."
Just then, a dense black wind mixed with specks of golden light rolled into the temple. A burly, bare-chested man with two fangs protruding from his mouth appeared. He strode forward mightily, laughing loudly. "Leave? I think no one's leaving! I've been waiting for this day for quite a while—catch them all in one net. You little wench, you've been hard to catch. I sent people as bait several times, and you never took the bait. Why did you finally lose control today? Dare to come out of your lair? Did you really think that by picking a long-legged concubine from your side, you could satisfy my appetite? Do you know, I've always had my eye on you the most?"
When this burly, ten-foot-tall man appeared, the temple was immediately filled with a stench.
All around the temple, a clamor arose.
Clearly, this goblin who had become a mountain god was lying in wait with preparation.
Chen Ping'an sighed helplessly. "So you're the Mountain God, I presume? No need to rush to deal with me—I can't escape anyway. Feel free to catch up first. Since you're going to propose marriage and take concubines."
This former member of the Four Evils of Combing Water, who had spent a large sum of immortal money to finally obtain a mountain god title, habitually drooled from the corner of his mouth. Indeed, he no longer paid attention to this young man, who looked like a third-rate martial artist or a low-level cultivator. He turned to look at the petite, slender-waisted almond-eyed girl, then beckoned. The voluptuous beauty immediately flew to him, and he caught her. She nestled against the "forest" of his chest, giggling, not daring to look at her mistress. Instead, she glared fiercely at the shocked tall female ghost. "You ungrateful wench! How dare you refuse such a good thing?!"
The mountain monster's laughter shook the sky. "After tonight, we'll all be family. Sisters in bed and out—don't let a few words hurt your feelings. You two each have your merits. I'll cherish both of you."
He wiped his mouth, then casually smeared it on the woman's chest. "From now on, I won't treat you three like those weak women down the mountain. Besides, they can't handle the roughhousing. It's a pity they can't become ghosts after dying; otherwise, you'd have a few more sisters. How lively my mountain god shrine would be!"
Finally, he put away the embroidered handkerchief he had taken from the female ghost. It was through this that he had been able to "catch the wind" and trap the cunning little wench here. If he had attacked her mansion, even if he succeeded, it would have been at great cost, and he might have ended up losing both. He was now extremely ambitious, aiming to become one of the Five Sacred Mountain Gods of Combing Water. Even if Colorful Garments had become a vassal kingdom of Great Li's Song Clan, and the status of the Five Sacred Mountain Gods had diminished, a leaner camel is still bigger than a horse. In this land of Combing Water, not only village girls and beautiful ghosts, but even the river matrons and higher-ranked female water gods he had never dared to imagine—what were they? Just a crook of his finger.
Chen Ping'an added another piece of wood to the fire. Even though he did it gently, it still made some noise.
The mountain god clearly wasn't as rough and reckless as he appeared. He immediately fixed his gaze on the unfamiliar young traveler.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Sorry, please continue."
The newly appointed mountain god, born from mountain spirits, suppressed his strange suspicions for the moment and said to the almond-eyed girl, "Wei Wei, just give in to me, how about it? I won't mistreat you. You'll have your title. I guarantee it will be at the scale of a mountain god's wedding—a grand sedan chair to welcome you to the mountain. I'll even have the county city god clear the way and the earth god carry the sedan chair if you ask. I'll make it happen!"
The female ghost named Wei Wei lifted one foot high and wiggled her embroidered shoe. "See how clean it is? Why don't you take a piss and look at yourself in the reflection?"
The mountain monster shoved the beauty in his arms away, reached into his crotch, and chuckled darkly. "I love your attitude. Looks like I have no choice but to use my mountain god powers to forcefully take you and handle the wedding later. Don't blame me. You brought this on yourself. I like your attitude, but when we're in bed, I'll have to break you in properly; otherwise, how can we live together?!"
Wei Wei patted her chest. "Oh, you've scared me."
The tall female ghost beside her, after an inner struggle, took a step forward. "I'm willing to be your concubine. Can you spare my mistress?"
Wei Wei's expression turned displeased. With a flick of her sleeve, she sent the female ghost flying sideways, crashing into the wall. Given the force and momentum, she would have broken through it.
The burly mountain god twitched his mouth and stomped his foot. The mountain and water elements flowed rapidly.
The tall female ghost struck an invisible wall as solid as bronze and iron, crashing heavily to the ground. The beautiful colorful dress she had conjured with illusionary magic fluttered, some of the ashes scattering. She curled up in the corner, covering the exposed parts of her body.
The mountain god sneered, "Wei Wei, times have changed. You still haven't accepted your fate? Do you really think I'm still the same fool who let you laugh at me back then? Do you know, every time you mocked me, I marked a whip strike for you, you little wench, in my heart! I'm going to make you understand what they mean by 'spare the rod, spoil the child'!"
He raised his hand, and a supple, long whip like thick liquid mercury materialized. A thin thread of gold on it, as fine as a hair, revealed his legitimate status as a mountain god.
Wei Wei didn't turn around. She just pointed at the blue-robed scholar behind her. "You dirty beast who hasn't even shed all your fur—look closely. This is the lover I was just about to take into my tent. Today, this single ghost will die for love in an ancient temple with a scholar. Not a loss!"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Don't drag me down with you before you die. Being a ghost without integrity—no wonder you've met this calamity tonight."
Wei Wei sneered coldly and no longer paid attention to the poor bastard behind her who was as good as dead.
On this mountain, what a mountain god meant went without saying.
That slap earlier was already a kindness to that foolish maid who was all legs and no brain. To say something stupid like, "I, Wei Wei, am willing to go with that beast; just let the maid go," was absolutely impossible. She, Wei Wei, was no bodhisattva. As for the young man who was about to die, who had come to her doorstep and caused her to end up like this, she didn't care about him either. He deserved to die here with her tonight. Die for love? Die for love, my ass. She had enjoyed hundreds of years of glory, and now it was all gone. If that beast didn't kill him, she would have wanted to slap him to death herself, just to save him from being flayed and disemboweled by the mountain goblins. At least she would have given him a quick death.
Chen Ping'an suddenly asked, "Mountain God, did you get your title as mountain god through the connections of some stationed civil official from the Great Li Iron Cavalry, or did the officials of Combing Water take your silver and help smooth things over?"
The mountain monster grinned sinisterly. "If you manage to become a ghost after you die, I'll tell you then."
Wei Wei laughed heartily. "Him, dare to approach the Great Li barbarians? I bet just hearing the words 'Great Li' makes his three legs go weak."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "I see."
The mountain monster said fiercely, "Wei Wei, just you wait! Within ten days, I'll make sure you give up that pitiful hobby of polishing mirrors!"
The tall female ghost in the corner and the voluptuous beauty both had strange, uncomfortable expressions.
Wei Wei, however, was completely unconcerned. She began pondering how to turn her losing battle into a deadlock where both sides were destroyed together.
Chen Ping'an slowly stood up and brushed off his clothes.
That was about enough.
Lucky—another of the Four Evils of Combing Water had come to him on his own.
But judging by the earlier black wind's momentum and the thread of gold on the whip, his golden body was probably unstable due to insufficient incense offerings.
Chen Ping'an bent down to reach into his bookshelf.
The mountain monster frowned.
Wei Wei couldn't help but retreat a few steps before turning her head to see what that fellow, who had once carried a bamboo box up the mountain into the temple, was trying to do.
She saw him trying to strap the long sword, which had been lying on the bookshelf, onto his back.
When he saw Wei Wei's inquiring gaze, Chen Ping'an smiled. "A half-immortal weapon. Never seen one before? Traveling over mountains and rivers without some treasure to rely on—how could I manage?"
Wei Wei laughed at his brazenness, smiling as she nodded. "Seen plenty, dozens or hundreds of half-immortal weapons."
The mountain god relaxed. A true Daoist cultivator wouldn't need to put on an act like this.
Chen Ping'an looked around. "This Buddhist place of purity—the monks' sutras are gone, but perhaps the Buddhist dharma lingers. That's why the fox spirit from back then, due to her kindness, got a great karmic opportunity and followed that 'Liu Chicheng' to travel the world. And you?"
Seeing the mocking smile on the sword-carrying youth's face.
Wei Wei felt an inexplicable panic.
Chen Ping'an flicked his wrist, and the bamboo box disappeared, absorbed into his Cunkun object.
Another flick of his wrist produced a bamboo hat, which he placed on his head and adjusted.
For some reason, the divine being who had been recognized in the kingdom's mountain-and-water registry suddenly found his knees turning weak—a complete loss of control, as if suppressed by some supreme immortal dharma. His innate divine powers ceased to function.
Compared to his time in the mountains south of Book-Splashing Lake, after practicing boxing in the bamboo building of Fallen Mountain, Chen Ping'an had begun to contain his divine intent.
Though not yet able to release and retract it freely, at least he no longer let it leak out carelessly without knowing it.
Otherwise, this trip to the ancient temple would never have allowed him to see Wei Wei and her two maids.
The next moment.
The female ghost Wei Wei widened her beautiful almond-shaped eyes.
At some point, the young man in blue had already stood outside the range of the burly mountain god's sword—exactly one sword's length away.
Because somehow, he had already drawn his sword, the tip pointing upward, piercing into the mountain ogre's chin, lifting him off the ground.
The golden body of a mountain god began to crack into countless thin fissures on the spot.
Chen Ping'an looked up slightly. "Back then, when I killed an eel river demon that had been causing havoc, there was karmic retribution. So killing a legitimate mountain-and-water god should be even more."
For the first time, Wei Wei was at a loss.
It felt as if heaven and earth were silent, with only the voice of the green-robed swordsman echoing leisurely.
"It's okay. I'll take this karma."
---
The female ghost Wei Wei didn't even know when he left. After a long time, she slowly came to her senses enough to think, but then began to blank out again, wondering why he hadn't killed her.
In the end, she still didn't know whether that sword was really a half-immortal weapon.
Inside the ancient temple, the voluptuous female ghost started kowtowing frantically, begging for mercy.
The tall female ghost, terrified, came to Wei Wei's side and said tremblingly, "Master was deep in thought. That immortal master called out but you didn't respond. He asked me to tell you that from now on, you shouldn't come to this ancient temple anymore. If you can accumulate more yin virtue, it wouldn't be a bad thing. Perhaps the Bodhisattva in this temple is watching."
Wei Wei also sensed her strange state, forcibly circulating her techniques as if pulling her feet out of mud. Only then did she regain mental clarity, gasping for air. Even as a ghost, she was drenched in cold sweat. Her dress and embroidered shoes were not like those of her maids—they were not made with crude illusions.
Wei Wei glanced at the empty ground where the mountain ogre's body should have been; there wasn't even blood. She frowned and asked, "Where is that person?"
The tall female ghost shook her head. "He said his piece and left."
Wei Wei was about to kick the kowtowing wretch into oblivion, but suddenly withdrew her embroidered shoe and said angrily, "I'll spare your life! Return to the mansion for punishment!"
She waved her hand grandly. "Let's go! Hurry!"
But before leaving the dilapidated temple, she paused at the threshold, turned around, pressed her palms together—this female ghost, who had never believed in Buddha, actually lowered her head and murmured, "Bodhisattva protect, Bodhisattva protect..."
Finally, Wei Wei glanced at the still-burning campfire, a ball of light.
Then they fled, heading back home.
After the three female ghosts departed.
Not long after, a blue-robed figure returned to the ancient temple. He took off his bamboo hat, sat down by the fire as before, occasionally adding dead branches, as if keeping vigil.
Once, he stood up and stopped at a spot inside the temple. Closing his eyes, holding his sword as if grasping it, he gently swung forward once.
At the first light of dawn.
He walked out of the temple gate, came to a cliff edge, and slowly performed the walking stance.
After finishing his punches, he stood still and turned to smile.
Chen Ping'an withdrew his gaze and looked far into the distance.
The sky was high and the earth vast; the scenery was picturesque.
He believed that next spring, there would again be red peach blossoms, white plum blossoms, and yellow rapeseed flowers.