Chapter 472: On the Matter of a Bamboo Sword Sheath

Chapter 472: On the Matter of a Bamboo Sword Sheath

Chen Ping'an arrived at the main entrance and took off his bamboo hat.

Old Senior Song was still wearing a long black gown, but he no longer carried a sword, and he had aged considerably.

This Sword Saint of the Comb Water Nation wore an expression of utter disbelief, asking with a heavy accent, "Kid?"

Chen Ping'an didn't know whether to nod or shake his head, but in the end, he nodded.

Song Yushao laughed heartily and slapped Chen Ping'an firmly on the shoulder. "Good heavens, you've shot up like a weed, I barely recognized you. Why aren't you wearing straw sandals and carrying that bamboo suitcase? I might have spotted you right away if you were."

Chen Ping'an smiled and asked, "Hotpot?"

Song Yushao didn't answer the question, instead asking, "What happened over in that town? Su Lang's sword qi suddenly snapped off—was that your doing?"

Chen Ping'an nodded. "I intercepted him and sent him back to the town. He shouldn't be troubling you anymore, Senior."

He didn't bother making up some excuse. After all, Old Senior Song was an old hand he deeply admired, not someone easily fooled.

But as the saying goes, the truth often sounds false, and lies sound true.

The old gatekeeper didn't believe it. Neither did Song Yushao's grandson, Song Fengshan, nor his wife, Liu Qian.

Only Song Yushao believed it. He grabbed Chen Ping'an by the arm and said, "Since that's settled, come on in and sit down. What's the rush for hotpot? After we finish the hotpot, settle your tab, and you're on your way, I'd be too embarrassed to stop you. Besides, I couldn't stop you even if I wanted to."

Song Fengshan and Liu Qian exchanged a glance.

The old gatekeeper swallowed hard.

Just as Chen Ping'an was about to pass the old gatekeeper, he stopped, took a step back, and said with a smile, "See? I told you I'm familiar with this estate. Don't block me next time, or I'll just climb over the wall."

The old gatekeeper laughed helplessly, cupping his fists in apology. "Young Master Chen, I was blind earlier. My apologies."

Chen Ping'an made a drinking motion, tilting his head back as if raising a cup.

The old gatekeeper caught on and gave Chen Ping'an a thumbs-up.

Song Yushao pulled Chen Ping'an along.

Song Fengshan didn't follow immediately. Lowering his voice, he asked, "Old Qi, what happened?"

The old gatekeeper recounted the earlier joke, telling the story of his own embarrassment with good humor.

Song Fengshan rubbed the space between his eyebrows with one finger.

Liu Qian smiled and said, "Isn't it fine? If this gets out, it'll be a great tale in the martial world."

The old gatekeeper laughed without restraint.

Inside the estate's main hall, they all took their seats. Liu Qian personally poured tea.

Taking a sip, Chen Ping'an asked curiously, "Chu Hao didn't die back then?"

Song Fengshan shook his head. "Dead as dead could be. Han Yuanshan just took over his identity. Han Yuanshan was always good at disguise."

Chen Ping'an understood.

The earliest Four Villains of Comb Water Nation—Wei Wei, the ghost woman of the old temple; Han Yuanshan; the demon cult figure killed by the academy's worthy man, Zhou Ju, at Sword Water Villa; and the last one, far and near, was actually Song Fengshan's wife, Liu Qian.

Liu Qian had done it for her husband, Song Fengshan, to elevate the martial reputation of Sword Water Villa.

As for the noble son of the Xiaochongshan Han clan, Han Yuanshan, he was ambitious, deep, and ruthless, wanting to use the martial world's influence to enter the political center. What he intended beyond that was impossible to guess.

That Han Yuanshan could accomplish so much, taking on Chu Hao's face and identity, now ruling both the martial and political spheres of Comb Water Nation with an iron fist, didn't surprise Chen Ping'an. But why was Sword Water Villa so helpless against him, given that Song Fengshan and Liu Qian held such a huge leverage over Han Yuanshan—that he wasn't the real Chu Hao? Wasn't Han Yuanshan afraid they'd burn the bridge and expose him?

Song Fengshan seemed to read Chen Ping'an's confusion and explained with a smile, "It's all for show, a deal. 'Chu Hao' uses this to pave the way for the Horizontal Blade Villa's submission and to unify the martial world. Han Yuanshan knows Sword Water Villa won't become the court's lackey, so he started heavily supporting Wang Yiran of Horizontal Blade Villa. We have no objections to that. The title of the number one martial sect—Wang Yiran cares about it; we don't. We just wanted to use this opportunity to find a scenic place away from worldly troubles. In exchange, Han Yuanshan, on behalf of the Comb Water Nation court, will grant us a piece of mountain land to build a new estate—a place Grandpa had long set his sights on. He'll also try to get my wife an official enfeoffment as a river god. I'll turn down all social engagements, sever all ties with the martial world, and focus on practicing the sword."

Liu Qian was no ordinary woman; both her status and intellect were exceptional.

Where there's life, there's hope.

Chen Ping'an hummed in acknowledgment. "A step back opens up the vast sky and sea. Brother Song can dedicate himself to the sword, and Sister-in-law can secure a lasting future. As for the ancestral land being chosen for a mountain temple, that's no small merit. Ancestral blessings will protect your descendants. But the only thing to watch out for is that you and Senior will need to check in from time to time. If the new mountain god's incense isn't pure, cut ties early. That's the worst-case scenario."

Song Yushao and Song Fengshan exchanged a knowing smile.

Chen Ping'an realized he might have spoken out of turn. Indeed, both Old Senior Song and Song Fengshan were well-versed in mountain matters, especially the old man, who loved roaming the world with his sword—how else could he have bought a sword for Song Fengshan at the Earth Dragon Mountain's immortal ferry?

So Chen Ping'an silently told himself not to rush. He'd be staying at the estate for a few more days.

After all, it was the Song family's own affairs, and Chen Ping'an had just arrived, so he shouldn't pry too much.

In Chen Ping'an's mind, no matter how others walked the martial world, his own world wouldn't just be about punching Su Lang back today, eating hotpot with Song Yushao tomorrow, and flying north on his sword the day after. During that time, he wouldn't think about anything else, as if the only things that mattered were the fastest punches, the fastest sword flight, drinking happily, and enjoying hotpot. Having learned martial arts and swordsmanship and achieved some success, life should be that simple, getting easier and easier.

But that shouldn't be the case.

Maybe in the unfamiliar Northern Joss Stick Continent, things would be different—he wouldn't have so many concerns.

So when they met, he had to ask about others' affairs to indirectly infer things about the Song family.

But one thing was crystal clear to Chen Ping'an: giving up the ancestral estate required no small courage, and it was no small matter.

Especially since Old Senior Song had agreed to it—that was even harder.

For old-timers in the martial world, face was everything. Old Senior Song was a true veteran. Wang Yiran could also be considered one, but Su Lang, the Azure Bamboo Sword Immortal of Pine Creek Nation, didn't quite count.

Take Su Lang's recent appearance and his sword attack in the town—it was highly improper.

According to the old rules passed down through generations in the martial world, since the Comb Water Nation's Old Sword Saint had publicly declined Su Lang's challenge without any reason or excuse, and without leaving any room for postponement, he had essentially ceded the title of the foremost swordsman. It was like a go player conceding without saying "I lost." For old-timers like Song Yushao, what they handed over willingly, besides the title, was a lifetime of accumulated fame and face—half their life, in a sense.

Song Yushao just smiled at Chen Ping'an. The little kid from back then had grown up nicely. He wondered if his tolerance for alcohol had improved, or if he could handle spicy food now. Did he still believe that drinking could cure the burn of chili? The old man was especially curious whether the girl Chen Ping'an had been so fixated on had worked out after they met. Or had his own big mouth ruined things with a casual "you're a good person"?

After hearing Song Fengshan's reasonable explanation, Chen Ping'an still had a question he couldn't help asking. "Then what about Su Lang? I saw his momentum when he was about to strike in the town—it was unmistakably aimed at a life-or-death battle with you, Senior, not just a contest of swordsmanship."

This time, Song Yushao personally explained. "The Sword God of Rainbow Garment Nation, whom I respected most back then, is probably at Su Lang's current level now. Su Lang has incredible talent. After breaking through his bottleneck, he wanted to find a whetstone for his sword to stabilize his realm. Looking across a dozen nations, I, Song Yushao, happened to use a sword, had enough fame, and was one realm below Su Lang... well, half a realm, so I was the best choice for him to test his edge."

Song Yushao wasn't really interested in tea, but these days he drank less alcohol. Only on holidays did he break the rule—his grandson and granddaughter-in-law were too strict, treating him like a thief. No choice. He drank tea as if it were the blandest wine, better than nothing.

The old man continued, "But Su Lang's fuss put me in a dilemma. If I accepted the fight, losing or dying wouldn't matter, but it would ruin our deal with Han Yuanshan."

At that, Song Yushao took a sip of tea, and Liu Qian quickly stood up to refill his cup.

Song Yushao grumbled, "Even if I drink a few catties of tea, it still has no taste of wine. Now that Chen Ping'an is here, isn't it bad to receive a guest with tea?"

Liu Qian, who was about to sit down, remained standing since Grandpa had spoken. She smiled and said, "Grandpa, this matter is up to Fengshan."

Song Fengshan put on a stern face. "This year for Mid-Autumn Festival, Grandpa already drank all the wine allocated for Start of Winter and Little New Year."

Song Yushao sighed and didn't insist.

Chen Ping'an was a bit pleased. It was clear that the grandfather and grandson had a much better relationship now, unlike before when they both had knots in their hearts that even immortals couldn't untie.

Song Yushao returned to the previous topic with a hint of self-mockery. "If I lose, given the current state of the Comb Water Nation's martial world, countless people will kick me while I'm down. Even after we move, it won't stop. Everyone will want to take a shot at us, or at least spit on us. If I die, Han Yuanshan might just go back on his word and let Wang Yiran swallow up Sword Water Villa. The Sword Saint of Comb Water Nation isn't worth half a penny now. It's a pity Su Lang is so sharp. He's gotten the empty title and now wants to grab something solid. It's human nature, but it doesn't fit the old rules of the martial world. But talking about old rules now is just a joke."

Song Fengshan seemed to want to say something but hesitated.

Song Yushao waved his hand and laughed. "Don't overthink it. I'm just venting in front of Chen Ping'an. You know my temper. If I really couldn't let go of these empty vanities, I wouldn't have agreed to Han Yuanshan's deal in the first place. In the end, it's because my skill isn't enough—I couldn't break through that bottleneck my whole life, and that gave Su Lang the chance to overtake me. Anyone who practices the sword wants to stand above the rest, with no one beside them, right?"

Song Yushao then said a few words to defend Su Lang, and then more for the martial world he belonged to—words that no one would hear anymore. "Back in the day, across a dozen nations, Old Sword God of Rainbow Garment Nation was the most revered. Even if Lin Gushan of Ancient Elm Nation wasn't well-liked, and even if I, Song Yushao, was unworthy of my position and liked to travel, and Su Lang was full of ambition, the martial world was still vibrant. No matter whom you followed, it was a path. Now the old Sword God is dead, Lin Gushan is dead, I'm half-dead, and only Su Lang remains. If Su Lang wants to rise to the top, as long as his swordsmanship reaches that height, no one can stop him. I'm just afraid he'll set a bad precedent. In the future, young people practicing the sword will lack that certain spirit. They'll think that once they're skilled, rules don't matter, and they can kill whoever they want. That's like... you, Chen Ping'an, or Song Fengshan, having loads of money and being the richest. You can throw money around in brothels and have the most beautiful courtesans. But that doesn't mean you can walk down the street, see a decent woman, and insult her with your money or bully her with your power..."

Chen Ping'an said helplessly, "I've never been to a brothel."

Seeing Liu Qian lower her head to drink tea with a faint smile, Song Fengshan quickly chimed in, "Neither have I! Absolutely not!"

The old fox was indeed cunning. Without hesitation, Song Yushao turned to Liu Qian with a smile and warned, "If a man truly has never been to a brothel or never had such thoughts, he wouldn't be so adamant about it. He'd just laugh it off lightly."

Liu Qian nodded softly and said gently, "That does seem to be the case."

Chen Ping'an and Song Fengshan exchanged a look, but Song Fengshan's eyes held not just grievance and resentment, but also blame—you've led me astray, Chen Ping'an!

You're blaming me? How many years have you been in the martial world, Song Fengshan, and how many years have I been? Chen Ping'an blinked and said only half of what he meant. "I really haven't been."

Song Fengshan was stunned.

This guy was sly!

Liu Qian covered her mouth and laughed.

Song Yushao burst out laughing. "Looks like you haven't wasted your years in the martial world, kid."

Song Fengshan shook his head and turned to his wife. "Better bring some wine. I'm not happy otherwise."

Liu Qian got up to fetch the wine.

Song Yushao benefited from it and raised his voice a bit.

Song Fengshan didn't drink much, and Liu Qian only had a symbolic cup.

The two jars of good wine, brewed at the estate and aged for over five years, were all consumed by Song Yushao and Chen Ping'an.

When Song Yushao heard that Chen Ping'an planned to leave the day after tomorrow, he waved his hand. "Bring two more jars! If this kid can drink me under the table, he can leave—not just the day after tomorrow, but right after he finishes!"

Liu Qian immediately got up to fetch the wine.

Chen Ping'an said helplessly, "Then I'll leave the day after that. Old Senior Song, I really have something important—I need to catch a cross-continent ferry heading to Northern Joss Stick Continent. If I miss it, I'll have to wait at least another month."

Song Yushao glared at him. "Then why not leave now? Can't you spare a day or two? Is it because I, Song Yushao, have too little face, or you, Chen Ping'an, have too much?"

Chen Ping'an muttered, "They say the best way to see one's martial ethics is at the drinking table."

Song Yushao slammed the table. "Drink your wine! Stop your whining. Unless that girl has bad eyesight, there's no way she'd like a man who dawdles over a drink like you! What, it didn't work out, did it?"

Hearing this, Chen Ping'an's mood improved greatly. His eyes sparkled, and he was full of bravado, though his words slurred a little. "Drink? Afraid of you? Old Senior, you really did a number on me that time. Your words scared me half to death, but in the end, it didn't matter... Come on, drink this bowl first. To be honest, Old Senior, your drinking capacity isn't what it used to be. A few bowls and your face is already red as rouge..."

Song Yushao's beard bristled. "If you've got the guts, don't let your hand shake when you drink! Hold it steady! Spill a single drop, and you lose a bit of martial camaraderie!"

Song Fengshan and Liu Qian chuckled. The kid was still young. The old-timer had endless tricks at the drinking table.

The old man and the young man drank until the world spun.

In the end, in Song Fengshan and Liu Qian's eyes, both had taken off their boots and sat cross-legged on their chairs.

Luckily, Song Fengshan controlled the supply and absolutely refused to give them more wine, so they didn't fully exhaust themselves. They might have kept drinking until they threw up and then started again.

Chen Ping'an stayed in the same courtyard as before, close to the landscape pavilion and the waterfall.

He collapsed onto the bed and slept.

Song Yushao wasn't much better. He stumbled back to his room and soon was snoring like thunder.

Chen Ping'an was truly drunk. He closed his eyes, barely maintaining a sliver of clarity.

Old Senior Song's spirit was off.

Otherwise, given the Comb Water Nation's Sword Saint he had first met, even if he had to agree to Han Yuanshan for the sake of his descendants, and decline Su Lang's duel due to circumstances, he wouldn't have been in this state of mind when meeting him today. He wouldn't have been so resigned to age and fate.

But Chen Ping'an didn't ask directly. Even after drinking so much, he didn't bring it up.

It wasn't that they weren't close, or that being drunk allowed reckless words.

The most casual words from the closest people can become lifelong knots.

At the end of the drinking, Song Yushao glanced at the bamboo hat on the table and then at the sword on Chen Ping'an's back. "That sword you're carrying—it's good?"

Chen Ping'an nodded. "Good."

Song Yushao smiled. "That's good."

Chen Ping'an was bewildered but didn't dwell on it. He couldn't bother, hiccupping with the smell of alcohol.

Song Fengshan and Liu Qian looked a bit melancholy, but they hid it well, fleeting.

Chen Ping'an had a headache from the drink and mumbled himself to sleep.

Today's wine for today's joy, drunk, I'm an immortal. Tomorrow's worries for tomorrow, and with more wine, all sorrows are gone.

———

Early the next morning, Chen Ping'an opened his eyes, washed up, and followed the quiet path to the waterfall.

Not to practice his punches, but to see the words he had secretly carved into the cliff years ago.

At the landscape pavilion, he saw Song Fengshan instead of Song Yushao.

Chen Ping'an walked quickly, and Song Fengshan stood to greet him.

Song Fengshan smiled. "Grandpa rarely drinks so recklessly. He's still asleep."

Chen Ping'an felt a pang of guilt. After a moment of silence, he looked around. "Moving away from here—do you not regret it?"

Song Fengshan hummed in acknowledgment. "Of course, I'll miss it. But this was Grandpa's own idea. He sent someone to approach Han Yuanshan. Actually, Liu Qian and I didn't want to agree at first. Our initial thought was to step back, at most let Wang Yiran, whom Grandpa also respects, win in a sword-versus-blade contest, and let Wang Yiran become the martial alliance leader of Comb Water Nation. Sword Water Villa would never move. After all, the estate was Grandpa's life's work. But Grandpa refused. He said the estate is dead, but people are alive. What's there to hold onto? You know his temper—it's hard to argue."

Chen Ping'an nodded. "That's just like him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have gone alone to stop the armies of Comb Water Nation back then."

Song Yushao was important to Chen Ping'an.

Some people, as long as they're in the martial world, every action they take is like holding the wine flask of that world, pouring a cup for others, filled with chivalry, letting them drink freely.

Song Fengshan smiled. "Grandpa has no more attachment to today's martial world. He always says it's hard to find a drinking companion now."

It seemed to be getting heavy, so Song Fengshan quickly switched to a teasing tone. "Chen Ping'an, don't let Grandpa's heavy drinking scare you away from visiting our new estate. Seriously, it's your fault for saying you're leaving so soon. Grandpa wouldn't really delay your business, but at the drinking table, old folks are like that. In front of the family, he can't say anything soft, so he just drags you into drinking one more cup."

Chen Ping'an smiled. "I understand."

Song Fengshan continued, "To be honest, Wei Wei sent a flying sword to Liu Qian last night, asking if you're still at the estate. It seems she'd come running if we replied. I had Liu Qian pretend she didn't receive it. After you leave, we'll reply that you were here but only drank with Grandpa."

Chen Ping'an cupped his fists in thanks.

After drinking too much last night, Chen Ping'an had roughly told them about his reunion with Wei Wei, one of the Four Villains of Comb Water Nation, but he didn't mention the mountain god matter afterward.

That was something Chen Ping'an needed to clean up himself.

For example, after reaching the Earth Dragon Mountain immortal ferry, he'd use flying sword to send a message to Wei Po of Piyun Mountain, asking about the matter's severity and the normal reactions of Great Li's stationed officials and the local court.

Wei Po was the Northern Peak true god of Great Li, far away in the middle of Vase Bottle Continent's Comb Water Nation, not under his jurisdiction. That was precisely why Chen Ping'an had struck so directly; otherwise, he might have shown mercy and used a more subtle approach.

Song Fengshan pointed toward the town. "Su Lang has already left with his sword-bearing maid. I'm sure a shocking story will soon spread across the martial world of a dozen nations: Su Lang fought a life-or-death battle with a true immortal swordsman and lost with honor."

Chen Ping'an didn't care about the rumors. He smiled. "I've never quite understood why sword attendants exist."

The palace lady from before was one, as was Azure Bamboo Sword Immortal Su Lang.

Song Fengshan looked a bit awkward.

Chen Ping'an asked, "Brother Song, do you have such thoughts too?"

Song Fengshan lowered his voice. "I only dare think about it in my heart."

Chen Ping'an rubbed his chin. It was something he couldn't understand at first, but when he put himself in Song Fengshan's shoes, he immediately got it.

As for himself, he wouldn't even think about it.

Chen Ping'an suddenly frowned. This Su Lang was being persistent to the point of annoyance.

Just then, the old steward surnamed Chu hurried over. Standing outside the small pavilion, he said with a wry smile, "The Azure Bamboo Sword Immortal Su Lang has come in secret and is at the main gate. He requests an audience with Young Master Chen, saying he dares to trouble you with a matter and will repay you handsomely in the future."

Song Fengshan thought for a moment and understood the situation. He sneered, "Twice now he's pushed his luck."

Chen Ping'an smiled and waved it off. "It's fine. I've already drunk so much of the estate's good wine after arriving."

Song Fengshan shook his head. "That's different!"

Chen Ping'an joked, "Brother Song, you can't stop me."

Song Fengshan smiled. "Ten of me couldn't stop you, but since you called me Brother Song..."

Before he could finish, Chen Ping'an said, "Let's go!"

He pressed two fingers together and lightly swept them across his sword sheath. "Remember, don't hurt anyone. But you can make a big commotion."

The sword immortal left its sheath.

It flew out of the landscape pavilion, straight into the sky, a golden thread hanging in the air.

Where the sword qi passed, thunder rumbled, and the clouds above Sword Water Villa were torn apart.

Occasionally, the golden thread would swoop close to the mountain owner, but it would quickly ascend again.

After a moment, Chen Ping'an looked up and smiled. "It's back."

The long sword, which had been like a dragon stirring up clouds and rain, plunged sharply back into its sheath.

Song Fengshan stood dumbfounded.

He knew Chen Ping'an's martial arts were terrifying now—otherwise, he couldn't have driven back Su Lang—but he never imagined it would be this terrifying.

Chen Ping'an flipped his wrist and handed over a jar of Crow Cry Wine, suppressing a grin. "After drinking the estate's good wine, try mine. I'm not like Old Senior, tricking people into thinking wine cures spice—this wine really can cure a hangover."

Song Fengshan uncorked it and sniffed. "Authentic immortal brewing—now that's good stuff."

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "This kind of wine is just good to drink. I never long for it. If I can drink, I do. If not, I don't think about it. But your Sword Water Villa's wine, Brother Song, I've missed it for years."

Song Fengshan raised the jar, and Chen Ping'an raised his Gourd Nurturing Sword. In unison, they said, "Cheers!"

Song Fengshan drank half the jar and stopped. Chen Ping'an said he wanted to check the waterfall.

Song Fengshan didn't accompany him.

They parted ways at the landscape pavilion. Song Fengshan walked back, carrying another jar of wine from Bookish Merchant Lake, which he handed to Old Steward Chu, who had come and gone. He said it was a gift from Chen Ping'an, and they'd talk again later—drink it all, don't save it. The old steward, who had a good relationship with Chen Ping'an back then, beamed and took the jar. Whether good or bad, he'd accept any wine from that boy without hesitation. The old steward said the Azure Bamboo Sword Immortal had already left. Before departing, Su Lang had made a solemn bow with his sword at the estate's gate.

Liu Qian met Song Fengshan and the old steward halfway. She called out, "Grandpa Chu," and the old man smiled and left.

The couple hadn't strolled for long before Song Yushao came over.

Seeing his grandfather, Song Fengshan smiled. "Don't worry, Grandpa. I won't say a word."

Only then did Song Yushao pat his grandson on the shoulder and continue walking toward the landscape pavilion, which was some distance from the waterfall. After sitting down, he began reminiscing. Old people in their years tend to do this—sleep late and wake early. Youngsters never understand that an old person's thoughts always revolve around old friends and old tales. Youngsters often don't want to hear them, so the old folks just think and dwell on them alone.

Inside the waterside pavilion, Chen Ping'an punched the waterfall in two, revealing the words carved on the cliff. He smiled knowingly.

Turning around, he quickly left the waterfall and headed outside the small pavilion.

Song Yushao had already left the pavilion. "Come on, let's go eat hotpot."

Chen Ping'an was taken aback. "So early? The restaurants aren't even open yet."

Song Yushao laughed. "The title of Sword Saint of Comb Water Nation may be worthless, but it should still get me a hotpot meal at my doorstep, right? Besides, you're paying, kid. If the shop curses anyone, it'll be you."

They didn't dart off like birds like before but walked leisurely—Song Yushao's idea.

Halfway there, Old Steward Chu caught up to them, carrying the bamboo hat Chen Ping'an had left in his room.

Chen Ping'an asked, "Kicking me out already?"

Song Yushao laughed. "Leave early, come back early. Can't you figure that out? Are you stupid?"

Chen Ping'an had nothing to say.

When they reached the town, there were no cooking fires yet, only a couple of roosters crowing and dogs barking, making it even quieter.

Song Yushao pounded on the restaurant door until it opened. The owner was no longer the old one Chen Ping'an knew but a middle-aged man with sleepy eyes. Seeing Old Sword Saint Song, he asked, "Old Villa Master, what brings you here?"

Song Yushao pointed at the bamboo-hatted green-robed swordsman beside him. "This fellow wants hotpot. Do us a table, if you don't mind."

The man showed no complaint, either in his face or heart. The restaurant's connection with the estate had been passed down from his father's generation. Though his father had passed away and the estate was said to be moving, the man still held the estate and the old villa master in high regard. He said, "Alright, I'll prepare it for you right away. The second floor is quiet now—no other guests."

Song Yushao took Chen Ping'an to their usual seat by the window on the second floor.

The restaurant knew Old Sword Saint Song's tastes well—both the broth and the meats and vegetables—and picked the best for him.

Soon, the table was covered with bowls and plates of all sizes, and the hotpot began to steam.

Song Yushao asked the restaurant for two jugs of wine, one each. He said to Chen Ping'an, "Today, let's take it easy. Less wine, more food."

Chen Ping'an nodded. Song Yushao glanced at the dipping sauce Chen Ping'an had mixed—quite red, a whole half-bowl of chopped chili. Good, the kid knew what was up.

Today, Chen Ping'an was even less restrained in his words than yesterday, talking more about matters on the mountains.

Among them was his journey to Misty Mountain in Rainbow Garment Nation.

Song Yushao was very measured with his drinking today, mostly taking small sips. After hearing about Chen Ping'an breaking the mountain's water array and dismantling the ancestral hall at Misty Mountain, he nodded with a smile. "That way, the ancestral hall truly loses its incense. Father and son become sworn enemies. Even if they don't fall out immediately, they'll complain to each other and pretend to be filial on the surface. That move of yours is more effective than actually tearing down their ancestral hall. Good one, kid—hit the heart without killing. Who taught you that?"

Chen Ping'an also sipped his wine. "I learned a bit from the mountains and a bit from the martial world."

He also talked about Fisherman Wu Shuowen, the boy Zhao Shu, and the girl Zhao Zhao, smiling as he mentioned that he'd told them about Sword Water Villa. They might visit someday, and he hoped the estate wouldn't embarrass him—they should be well treated, so the three wouldn't think he was just boasting about being friends with the Sword Saint of Comb Water Nation, when in reality it was just a nodding acquaintance, and he was just trying to save face.

Song Yushao laughed heartily, helping to cook a slice of tripe and placing it in Chen Ping'an's bowl.

They finished all the hotpot ingredients and the jug of wine.

Song Yushao saw Chen Ping'an off to the outskirts of the town again. This time, Chen Ping'an could hold his liquor better and could handle spicy food, unlike before. That disappointed the old man a bit.

Chen Ping'an, wearing his bamboo hat, stood still and cupped his fists. "Senior, I'm off."

Song Yushao nodded and finally said, "You're not even handsome. What's the hat for?"

Chen Ping'an adjusted his hat and said seriously, "That's hard to say. A man's looks are decided by women."

Song Yushao laughed and cursed, "Bull! Pfft!"

Chen Ping'an smiled and turned to leave.

Song Yushao waited until Chen Ping'an was far away before turning around and walking back along the empty street to the estate.

The old man walked alone past the memorial archway where Su Lang had planned to challenge him.

Some words, Chen Ping'an wanted to ask but couldn't. The kid had danced around them at the table, saying seemingly unrelated things, like his exploits at Misty Mountain.

He, Song Yushao, might not be a great swordsman, but he hadn't wasted his decades in the martial world. Did he not know Chen Ping'an's character? Did he not realize that such somewhat boastful talk wasn't like Chen Ping'an at all? Why say it? Wasn't it to reassure the old man, to tell him that if there was really a problem, Chen Ping'an could be trusted to hear it out? From start to finish, Song Yushao had made it clear with every word and action that he had no worries, everything was fine—the kid was overthinking.

Song Yushao clasped his hands behind his back and looked up at the sky.

The sun was high, the sky clear. A fine day.

He hoped that on the kid's martial world journey ahead, every day would be like this.

———

Midday, the third day after Chen Ping'an had left the estate.

A girl with almond-shaped eyes, wearing embroidered shoes, arrived at Sword Water Villa in a flurry.

Seeing Liu Qian and Song Fengshan, and learning that Chen Ping'an had already left, she was full of lament, saying they were ungrateful for not persuading him to stay a few more days.

Liu Qian found it strange and asked her if something had happened on her mountain that required Chen Ping'an's help. Then Liu Qian said seriously, "If you have a grudge with the mountain god, you can speak up, and Sword Water Villa will help. But the villa absolutely will not ask Chen Ping'an to intervene."

Wei Wei's expression was odd. "That great sword immortal didn't tell you about what happened at the old temple?"

Liu Qian asked, puzzled, "He did. He said you'd gone back to your old tricks, hadn't learned your lesson after suffering at our grandfather's hands, and were back at the temple fooling men out of their yang energy. What, is there more to your meeting?"

Wei Wei chuckled. "No, nothing more. He just took a fancy to me and was too shy to say it. I was a bit moved too, so I came to ask Old Master Song to play matchmaker..."

Song Fengshan's lips curled. What nonsense. Who among them didn't know what Wei Wei really fancied? Besides, given Chen Ping'an's temper and cultivation now, if he hadn't cut her down on the spot, it was already her lucky star shining.

Liu Qian directly exposed Wei Wei's lie with a smile. "Enough of your reckless jokes. If Grandpa or Chen Ping'an hear, you'll pay for it!"

Liu Qian then glanced at the relaxed couple and frowned. "Su Lang didn't fall and die on the road, did he? Otherwise, why are you still smiling? Shouldn't you be crying every day? You wiping Song Fengshan's tears, him calling you 'wife, don't cry'..."

Song Fengshan couldn't stand the teasing from this Comb Water Nation female ghost and made an excuse to leave.

Liu Qian then gave a rough account of how Su Lang was driven back and later came to visit.

In truth, for years, she had been diligently running the estate's affairs, so she knew what to say and what not to say.

Otherwise, the grandfather and grandson wouldn't trust her so much.

Wei Wei let out an "oh" without any surprise. Noticing Liu Qian's thoughtful gaze, Wei Wei clutched her chest with an exaggerated "aiya." "So Young Master Chen's swordsmanship has already reached such a divine level! In just a few days, you have to look at him with new eyes. Scared me to death! My goodness! If I had known, I'd have volunteered my pillow at the old temple. Even if I don't like men, I'd close my eyes and get it over with."

Liu Qian tossed a handful of melon seeds at her. "Less of your shameless talk!"

Wei Wei then said, "I was supposed to be here yesterday. Sigh, us ghosts struggling to ride the wind just can't compare to a sword immortal flying at lightning speed. Never mind. I've cultivated for centuries, and it amounts to less than a man's ten years of sightseeing. Heartbreaking. Qian, I was a day late because I went to the state capital to plan a major matter concerning the foundation of my path. I won't go into details—you'll find out sooner or later. But on the way, I spotted figures from Horizontal Blade Villa. That little wretch Wang Coral, she's really strutting around now. I could smell her perfume from miles away."

"It must be that after Su Lang suffered a loss here, Han Yuanshan's spies in the town sent a flying sword message, so Horizontal Blade Villa acted immediately."

Wei Wei rubbed her chest, putting on a sorrowful look. "You two better be prepared. If my beloved Chen Ping'an were still at the estate, it wouldn't matter. But now that heartless man has run off. If Han Yuanshan comes, I won't side with you. At best, I'll stay neutral. Sisterhood is sisterhood, but if Han Yuanshan really goes after you, I'll just have to weep in secret."

In truth, Wei Wei was puzzled why Han Yuanshan was so ruthless, forcing Song Yushao to move and building a mountain temple on his estate. The mountain monster Chen Ping'an had killed with one sword had been dreaming of becoming the new mountain god here. As for the big matter she hadn't mentioned, it was her own plan to take the beast's mountain god seat. She had always been in a quiet competition with Liu Qian. That was how sisters were—they were close, but they also compared who was doing better in life. Wei Wei and Liu Qian had both been among the Four Villains of Comb Water Nation. If Liu Qian, a mountain spirit, could become the young mistress of Sword Water Villa, why couldn't she, Wei Wei, become a mountain god and look down on her instead?

The deal between Sword Water Villa and Han Yuanshan was very secret. Liu Qian naturally wouldn't tell Wei Wei anything.

Words from the heart—she spoke them sparingly and only to the right person.

Otherwise, once the heart was bared, it couldn't be put back.

After some thought, Liu Qian carefully chose her words. "It shouldn't be anything bad. Chen Ping'an's intervention likely made Han Yuanshan cautious. Given his nature, he probably won't come in person. He'll just send Wang Yiran, his puppet, to smooth things over with the villa, so the three parties don't fall out completely."

Wei Wei thought it over. That was likely it.

———

On the battlefield where, years ago, an old man and a boy had faced an army, a green-robed swordsman wearing a bamboo hat lingered. He hadn't left for the Earth Dragon Mountain immortal ferry after departing the town. Instead, he had asked a nearby mountain god, who was about to be "promoted," and finally learned something Song Yushao, Song Fengshan, and Liu Qian didn't want to speak of.

Why Song Yushao had lost that spirit of a sword path grandmaster and pure martial artist.

It was a secret few at Sword Water Villa knew.

Only this mountain god, who was highly regarded by the Comb Water Nation court, had known because he governed the local qi and had used his innate abilities.

The matter was trivial—no one had died.

But was it trivial?

No.

A martial artist from the Central Earth had come to Sword Water Villa, demanding a bamboo sword sheath from Song Yushao.

At first, he offered to buy it with plenty of immortal money.

Song Yushao refused.

The reason was simple: he was saving the sheath for a friend and wouldn't sell.

Then that outsider, whose martial realm was unimaginably high, said to give Song Yushao three days to think. After three days, he wouldn't be buying.

As he left, the man glanced at Song Fengshan and Liu Qian with the cold sneer of a mountaintop dweller looking at ants. He changed his words to Song Yushao: two lives—still buying.

Song Yushao was silent for three days.

Song Fengshan and Liu Qian were determined. They urged their grandfather not to sell, no matter what.

But on the last day, Song Yushao handed over the bamboo sheath. He didn't take the immortal money.

After that, the old man had truly aged.

But he sought out his grandson and granddaughter-in-law, drank with them, and even offered a toast to Liu Qian. He said that his grandson was blessed to have her as his wife—it was the accumulated virtue of the Song ancestors. He had wronged her in the past, underestimated her. Liu Qian drank the wine cup with tears in her eyes. Finally, the old man comforted the two juniors, saying it was fine, truly fine. They shouldn't dwell on it. It was just a bamboo sword sheath. He had never mentioned it to Chen Ping'an anyway, so they should just pretend nothing happened.

At that moment, a grand convoy slowly approached the green-robed swordsman.

Chen Ping'an gathered his thoughts. After meeting the local mountain god, he had told him not to mention the meeting to the estate.

The mountain god naturally dared not disobey, but sitting atop the mountain drinking with the young sword immortal was an honor he felt proud of.

The reason Chen Ping'an hadn't left immediately, nor returned to Sword Water Villa, was that he felt uncomfortable and didn't know what to do.

So he had been wandering here, thinking alone.

And then he had run into an acquaintance.