Chapter 475: Blocking Water is Not as Good as Dredging

Chapter 475: Blocking Water is Not as Good as Dredging

After laughing, Chen Ping'an cupped his fists and said, "Elder Hong, we meet again."

The old man was as spirited as ever. For cultivators, a few years were truly but a snap of the fingers, and the decline in his appearance was not obvious.

Seeing the young swordsman in blue who had removed his bamboo hat, the old man named Hong Yangbo from the Qingfu Pavilion grew increasingly puzzled. The business of the Qingfu Pavilion at the Dilong Mountain Immortal Ferry was uniquely good, with people coming and going constantly. However, immortal money mostly circulated on the first floor. Few guests came up to the second floor, and even fewer sat down to do business. If it were a distinguished guest he had handled, the old man should have remembered them. Yet, looking at this young man dressed as a wandering swordsman, he seemed utterly unfamiliar. So why was he acting so familiar?

Still, a guest was a guest, and since he had called him "Elder Hong," Hong Yangbo sat and returned the greeting with cupped fists, then gestured for him to sit down. Smiling, he asked, "May I ask if the guest wishes to buy or sell?"

Chen Ping'an pulled over a antique-style red lacquered chair and sat down. This kind of task was usually the duty of the Qingfu Pavilion's guide women. Of course, they would serve tea and facilitate the transaction, and if a deal was struck, they would receive a commission. Especially if they turned a guest into a repeat customer, the Qingfu Pavilion would give them an additional bonus. Chen Ping'an remembered that the woman from back then was named Cuiying. However, this time he had no intention of buying or selling anything. Otherwise, he would have asked downstairs if Cuiying was around. Meeting again was fate, and looking back, the business they three had done with this Qingfu Pavilion back then had been mutually satisfying—a happy start that counted as a bond of incense. Cultivators all believed in such things.

Just as Chen Ping'an was about to sit down, he thought to close the door, but the old man waved his hand and said, "No need to close the door."

Chen Ping'an hesitated for a moment but still followed the old man's instruction and sat back down. He smiled and said, "I came to the Dilong Mountain Ferry this time just to drop by and see Elder Hong. Elder may not remember, but back then, I, along with a big-bearded man and a young Daoist, sold a few things in this shop of yours..."

The old man slapped the table and laughed, "I remember now! Those bamboo chopsticks—you sold them to me! Good heavens, you fulfilled a long-cherished wish of mine. I used to take them out to play with when I had nothing to do. Touching those bamboo chopsticks was like touching the green hair of Bamboo Madam from Green God Mountain..."

The old man didn't continue, probably feeling he was being a bit too familiar.

Zhang Shanjeng had sold a pair of bamboo chopsticks from Green God Mountain here back then, and the old man had bought them at a high price. Because they were his favorite, there had been a significant premium.

The old man was delighted. Remembering something, he stood up and called out, "Qingcai, quickly serve some good tea!"

Soon, a woman in a gorgeous palace brocade long dress walked gracefully from the corridor adorned with the carpet of Colorful Garment Country. She presented them both with a steaming cup of excellent tea. The woman with a graceful figure left the room but did not go far, waiting just outside the door.

The old man was a long-time employee of the Qingfu Pavilion, having spent half a century here. If he met a guest he didn't like, he often showed a bad face, indifferent to buying or selling. But for those he fancied, he was open-minded and warmly enthusiastic. Otherwise, he wouldn't have ended up making a small bet with Xu Yuanxia back then.

The old man smiled and asked, "How about that big-bearded man with the keen eye? Why didn't he come? I lost that bet we made. Buying that Five Sacred Mountains Bowl from Ancient Elm Country caused the Qingfu Pavilion to lose some money. But that doesn't matter; gains and losses are inevitable in business. Besides, I specialize in appraising bronze vessels, calligraphy and paintings, and high-quality wood. Occasionally getting it wrong on miscellaneous items is no surprise. But I owe that man a meal of wine. I can't keep owing it forever, right? When will it end? I don't like owing people; it's a small burden on my mind. How about I invite you to find a good place outside the Qingfu Pavilion for a drink? Consider it settled?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head and smiled, "That wine—let's wait until my friend comes himself to ask Elder Hong for it."

The old man sighed helplessly, then his eyes suddenly lit up. "Last time you were in this shop, you only sold things. Actually, I have some exquisite and genuine goods that I usually don't show people. Want to feast your eyes? You don't have to buy; I'm not that kind of person. It's just rare to meet a familiar person I'd like to deal with. I'll take them out to show off a bit and let the treasures get some air. It's not like I'm hiding a beautiful woman in a golden house, unable to be seen."

Without waiting for Chen Ping'an to say anything, the old man stood up and began rummaging around. Soon, he placed three brocade boxes of different sizes on the table.

The old man carefully opened them. Inside were a piece of imperial pine-soot ink, a clay female figurine wearing a veil hat, and a cursive script calligraphy rubbing.

The old man looked very pleased. "These three items are rare even on the second floor of the Qingfu Pavilion. They are full of spiritual energy. Not to mention the clay figurine, the other two items are also heavily infused with scholarly energy. They wouldn't be considered light gifts even if given to Confucian scholars from Guanhu Academy, let alone to knowledgeable officials and nobles in the secular dynasties!"

The old man pointed to the pine-soot ink. "This piece of imperial pine-soot ink from Divine Water Country was made from a thousand-year-old ancient pine. It has a great origin—it was conferred the title 'Wood Lord' by the imperial court. The ancient pine was also called the 'Un-drunk Pine.' There is a famous anecdote about it: a great literary master, after getting drunk in the mountains, encountered 'someone' blocking his way and pushed the pine away, saying he was not drunk. Unfortunately, after Divine Water Country fell, the ancient pine was destroyed, so this piece of pine-soot ink is likely the only surviving one in the world."

The old man pointed to the clay figurine, his eyes even more fervent. "I bought this from a down-and-out rogue cultivator in my early years. It was a huge bargain; I only spent two hundred Snow Coins. Later, an elder from the third floor appraised it and revealed that this figurine was once part of a set of twelve, created by a breathtaking upper-five-realm immortal from White Emperor City in the Central Continent. They were hailed as the 'Twelve Beauties' fairy figurines. The wonderful thing is that that veil hat itself is a small and delicate magic tool. Only by triggering the mechanism can one see the true face. Unfortunately, I have yet to figure out how to unlock it, so I cannot fully verify the figurine's identity. Otherwise, this item could become the prized treasure of the entire Qingfu Pavilion—a true shop treasure! You see, in the world of collecting, completeness is hardest to achieve, so it is also most sought after."

Finally, the old man pointed to the calligraphy rubbing and said regretfully, "Compared to the first two, this is not as valuable. It was the calligraphy of a local sword immortal from the ancient Shu region before he began his cultivation. Although it is a copy, it resembles a cicada's discarded shell, almost indistinguishable from the original. It's called the 'Alas Rubbing,' from the first line of the text: 'Alas, my swordsmanship is sparse.' The calligraphy is exquisite, and the content is excellent. Unfortunately, due to its age and poor preservation in earlier times, much of its spiritual energy has dissipated. Like a hero in his twilight years, it is now frail and waning—truly hitting the mark. Alas, alas."

Chen Ping'an had only a mild interest in the imperial pine-soot ink and the veiled clay figurine. After a glance, he moved on. But this last cursive script rubbing caught his attention. He examined it carefully. Chen Ping'an had always been very enthusiastic about writing or calligraphy, though his own handwriting was similar to his chess skills—no inspiration, just mediocre and rigid. However, while his own writing was poor, he had a decent eye for judging others' calligraphy. This was thanks to the seal script on the three seals from Master Qi, the many calligraphy rubbings casually written by Cui Dongshan, a book of ancient seal impressions he had bought during his travels, and the three hundred years in the Lotus Flower Paradise, where he had seen numerous masterpieces by great calligraphers in high positions. Although they were fleeting impressions, the essence had left a deep mark on Chen Ping'an.

So Chen Ping'an, who had no intention of spending money at the Qingfu Pavilion, felt a stir of interest. From Elder Hong's tone, the imperial pine-soot ink and the veiled clay figurine, full of spiritual energy, were certainly not cheap. Only this calligraphy rubbing should be relatively affordable.

Chen Ping'an asked the price. The old man raised one hand and shook it.

Five Small Summer Coins.

Back then, that pair of Green God Mountain bamboo chopsticks had cost the same.

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "Can't afford it."

It wasn't that he didn't like it; he just couldn't bear to spend five Small Summer Coins. In the secular world, that would be five hundred thousand taels of silver!

Back when he bought a large stack of cursive script rubbings from that crazy drunkard county defender in the Plum Glaze Country county office, it only cost five jugs of immortal-brewed wine. All told, that was less than one Small Summer Coin.

When it came to buying and selling, the fear was comparing goods!

If he hadn't had the experience of trading wine for rubbings with that down-and-out county defender, Chen Ping'an might have gritted his teeth and bought it, just like the old man had with the bamboo chopsticks.

The old man didn't press him, knowing the difficulty was with the price. Regardless, the fact that this sword-carrying wanderer genuinely liked this cursive script rubbing already made it worthwhile to have brought it out.

Just then, the woman in colorful clothes outside the door said softly, "Elder Hong, why not bring out the most treasured item in this room?"

The old man laughed in mock anger, "Qingcai, since you didn't bring this guest in, even if I sell something from this room, you won't get a single copper coin. What are you stirring up?"

It was clear the woman had a good relationship with the old man, and she joked, "Let me bask in the guest's good fortune and get a few more looks at the treasures. It's fine even if I don't buy."

She said to Chen Ping'an with a smile, "Young master, since you're here in this room, you must see Elder Hong's prized treasure. It's no loss to take a look."

Chen Ping'an actually had no such intention, but Hong Yangbo smiled and pointed a finger at her, "Elbow always turned outward. Better find a husband quickly, so you don't have nothing better to do every day and just come to the Qingfu Pavilion to mess with us old folks. Fine, since we've already looked at three good items, might as well add the prized treasure."

The old man finally took out a square brocade box wrapped in gold thread. When he opened it, a cool, refreshing chill immediately hit them, but without any hint of yin or baleful aura—like the grandeur of heavy snow in deep winter.

Chen Ping'an looked closely. Inside were four Ghost-Slaying Back-Facing Spirit Coins, all identical.

The old man turned each of the four large coins over one by one and smiled, "These are the Thunder Duke, Lightning Mother, Rain Master, and Fire Lord, each for capturing demons and subduing monsters. This is a set of rare treasures used for yasheng talismans. Beautiful and useful. Once, a member of the Zhu Ying dynasty's royal family wanted to buy them, but his offer was slightly lower than my expectation. I might have sold them, but that fellow was too overbearing. When he saw my prized treasure, even though he was delighted inside, he put on a fake calm demeanor. Just looking at him annoyed me. If he tried those petty tricks in the marketplace, fine, but to come before me and make a fool of himself—he truly disgraced the Zhu Ying dynasty. So I found an excuse and refused to sell."

The old man smiled, "Even if you don't buy, you can handle them. They're not like ordinary porcelain; they won't break."

Chen Ping'an picked up one of the coins, carefully examined both sides, then put it down and asked, "How much?"

The old man said, "The set of four won't be sold separately."

The old man again raised one hand and shook it.

Of course, it wasn't five Small Summer Coins, but five Grain Rain Coins.

Chen Ping'an smiled and asked, "No room for negotiation?"

The old man shook his head. "Absolutely no bargaining. Otherwise, I'd be doing a disservice to this precious set of coins that came all the way from Ao'ao Continent."

Chen Ping'an asked, "That royal family member from Zhu Ying dynasty—did he try to bargain down to four Grain Rain Coins?"

The old man smiled and nodded.

Chen Ping'an grimaced, "Then it seems I'm no different from him."

He had also wanted to bargain down to four Grain Rain Coins, and he was also reluctant to part with them, very much wanting to take them all in one go.

Money was dead; people were alive.

After handing the sycamore leaf Sumeru Pouch to Wei Bo, before going down the mountain, Chen Ping'an had Wei Bo take out two amounts of Grain Rain Coins: one batch of five, which he carried with him, thinking that for his travels down the mountain, five Grain Rain Coins would be enough to handle any emergencies. The other batch was to be sent to Letter Writing Lake, to be given to Gu Can for organizing two Great Zhou Rituals and Water and Land Dharma Assemblies.

If he really encountered something like Lu Yong's multicolored gold stove from Green Ram Temple, which cost as much as fifty Grain Rain Coins, as long as it didn't involve the foundation of his Great Way, Chen Ping'an would consider it fate that they weren't meant to be together.

After all, these days everything was expenses. Apart from the two street shops in Riding Dragon Alley that could earn a few dozen taels of silver each month, none of the peaks, including Fallen Mountain, had any immortal money coming in yet.

He really couldn't keep spending without earning.

The old man laughed heartily, "There is some difference. I find you much more agreeable. Feel free to bargain all you want, but I won't agree anyway."

In a flash of inspiration, Chen Ping'an tentatively asked, "May I ask how much Qingfu Pavilion pays Elder Hong annually as a stipend?"

In Dragon Spring Commandery, the Ox Horn Mountain Peddler's Shack was gone, but the buildings and shops built at great expense were still there. And since Ox Horn Mountain had an immortal ferry, it was indeed suitable for doing business.

The woman at the door covered her mouth and laughed, though some sound still escaped. It showed how ridiculous Chen Ping'an's question was.

If he had bought those four talismanic treasure-grade Ghost-Slaying Back-Facing Spirit Coins, it would be one thing. But he couldn't even afford them, and he was still trying to poach from the Dilong Mountain Qingfu Pavilion? Didn't he know that the Qingfu Pavilion, as the local power at the Dilong Mountain Immortal Ferry, had been passed down through more than ten generations? Even the Peddler's Shack had run into trouble here and ultimately didn't set up a shop.

Hong Yangbo was also amused and waved his hand, "Forget about that."

The old man was about to put away the spiritual energy box wrapped in gold thread to block the cold aura of the coins. But unexpectedly, Chen Ping'an turned his wrist and placed five Grain Rain Coins on the table. "Elder Hong, I'll buy them."

The old man asked in surprise, "Really buying? No regrets? Once you leave the Qingfu Pavilion, it's settled—no returns."

Chen Ping'an nodded.

The old man stretched out one hand, just fitting one finger against each Grain Rain Coin. He touched them briefly—they were indeed genuine mountain Grain Rain Coins, full of spiritual energy, circulating in an orderly manner, impossible to fake.

The old man asked again, "Are you sure?"

Chen Ping'an glanced at the other three boxes that hadn't been put away and smiled, "Could I have a little extra?"

The woman at the door couldn't help but laugh, quickly turning her head away.

The old man said half-jokingly, "If you help pay off that wine debt, then yes. How about it?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "That won't do. Business is business."

The old man shook his head. "Then forget it. Business is business, fair price, no extras."

"Fine, no extras then. Good things come to those who wait. We'll talk later."

Chen Ping'an shifted slightly, his back blocking the view from the door, and put the gold-threaded brocade box into his Sumeru Pouch.

Finally, the old man personally saw Chen Ping'an to the door. It wasn't that he couldn't see him all the way to the main entrance of the Qingfu Pavilion on the first floor, but doing so would be taboo, attracting unnecessary speculation and prying eyes.

The old man suddenly asked, "If you had agreed to drink earlier, which item would you have chosen as the extra? The 'Alas Rubbing'?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "The veiled clay figurine."

The old man smiled, "Good eye, but not the best. The most valuable is actually that imperial pine-soot ink from Divine Water Country. Market price is nine Small Summer Coins. By that calculation, if you had agreed to drink, the set of talismanic coins would have been effectively bargained down to four Grain Rain Coins, and I'd have made at most half a Grain Rain Coin profit. Now, I'll make one and a half Grain Rain Coins. Even after deducting the Qingfu Pavilion's commission, I'll never have to worry about buying wine for the rest of my life."

Chen Ping'an smiled, "Then next time my friend comes to Qingfu Pavilion, Elder Hong, remember to treat him to some good wine—the most expensive you can find."

The old man nodded, "Naturally."

After crossing the threshold, Chen Ping'an told the woman there was no need to see him out. Then he cupped his fists in farewell. "Elder Hong, until we meet again."

The old man nodded in farewell. "Forgive me for not seeing you off. I hope we can do business often, little by little."

Chen Ping'an went downstairs and left. Outside the Qingfu Pavilion, he walked slowly on the main street, leading his horse.

He had bought that set of coins to give to Zhong Kui at Taiping Mountain.

Earning money couldn't be rushed—it wasn't his fault.

But soon, Chen Ping'an turned around and saw the woman in the colorful dress hurrying toward him, carrying a brocade box in her arms.

Chen Ping'an stopped. The woman named Qingcai handed him the box and smiled, "Elder Hong ultimately felt uneasy and reluctantly parted with this figurine to give to you, young master. You don't know—when I took the box from him, I had to pull for a long time before I could wrench it out of his hands."

Chen Ping'an said something like, "That's really too kind," but his hands didn't hesitate at all. The woman didn't let go immediately, but with a gentle tug from Chen Ping'an, he finally got it.

Watching his retreating figure, the woman raised both hands and found them empty.

She shook her head with a smile and returned to the Qingfu Pavilion. The several women on the first floor saw her and immediately lowered their heads.

When she reached the room of Hong Yangbo on the second floor, the old man was standing respectfully at the door, smiling bitterly. "Boss, when I saw you personally serve tea earlier, it startled me."

The woman's smile was calm. "And later, when that guest tried to poach you, you were even more startled, right?"

The old man smiled wryly.

The woman walked into the room, bent down, and used a finger to play with the little green-clad figures standing on the branches of an old cypress. Hong Yangbo stood to the side, puzzled. "Boss, why did you want me to give away that veiled clay figurine?"

The woman toyed with the adorable green-clad children. "This person is very likely the young sword immortal who appeared at Sword Water Manor."

The old man looked incredulous. "Really? Even if he could pull out five Grain Rain Coins in one go and buy that set of Ghost-Slaying Back-Facing Spirit Coins that had been gathering dust for a hundred years... when I saw him back then, he was at most a third-realm pure martial artist..."

The woman said calmly, "The Bottle Gourd Continent is so vast; is it only True Martial Mountain's Ma Kuxuan?"

The old man was still skeptical, not believing that this young man was the green-clad sword immortal who had sent the Pine Creek Country's Su Lang retreating in defeat.

The woman suddenly said, "Don't forget, I am also a sword cultivator."

The old man smiled. "Boss is a prodigy. In your youth, you received the prophecy 'Earth Immortal Sword Cultivator.' Merchant arts are mere trifles."

The woman straightened up and clapped her hands. "Just now, when this person went up to the second floor of the Qingfu Pavilion, I happened to be wiping an ancient sword in the 'Cold Qi' room on the third floor. My sword heart wavered slightly—it was fleeting, but it was absolutely real."

The woman casually opened a brocade box on the table, spread out the cursive script rubbing, and traced the ink marks with her finger, twisting unpredictably. "I suspect that person had already seen through that I was no maid of the Qingfu Pavilion. That's why he didn't bother to hide the fact that he possessed a dimension pouch or a Sumeru pouch. Not only that, but when we parted on the street, I deliberately glanced at the sword on his back. At that moment..."

The woman raised her head, hands behind her back. "How to put it? In that instant, he was as still as a clay Bodhisattva on a shrine. To a person like that, what does it matter if the Qingfu Pavilion sends out a clay figurine worth a few Small Summer Coins? If he was willing to accept it and acknowledge this favor, the Qingfu Pavilion should be burning tall incense."

Saying this, she extended a finger and drew it downward from top to bottom, thinking that if she carefully compared his attitude toward her and toward Hong Yangbo, they were completely different.

The old man wiped the sweat from his forehead. Had he almost missed out on a tremendous blessing back then? He had insisted on that wine before granting an extra.

The woman suddenly asked, "Do you think that person didn't agree to drink because, as a mountaintop sword immortal, he disdains drinking at the same table as you, Hong Yangbo? Or does he truly hope his friend will drink with you himself?"

The old man answered without hesitation, "Naturally, the former."

The woman laughed. "The commission on that set of Ghost-Slaying Back-Facing Spirit Coins—the Qingfu Pavilion will forgo it today. Hong Yangbo, next time you invite someone to drink, invite them to expensive places. Yes, 'the most expensive you can find.'"

The old man beamed. "That's wonderful!"

---

Chen Ping'an led his horse along. After paying, he still had a couple of hours, so he waited patiently at the ferry for the departure of the boat. Looking up, he saw ferry boats rising and descending, bustling with activity.

This ferry seemed even more profitable than back then. If Ox Horn Mountain could one day achieve half of this bustle, it would surely make a fortune.

Whether it was worldly gold and silver or immortal money, the fear was that it wouldn't move. Money likes to circulate, not to stay still.

That was a casual remark Cui Dongshan had made back then, which Chen Ping'an hadn't felt anything about at the time. Now, he could savor the aftertaste, endlessly.

After Cui Dongshan left that letter and visited his grandfather Cui Cheng, he left Fallen Mountain and vanished without a trace, like a clay ox sinking into the sea.

The letter, aside from the flattering words that could be ignored, also mentioned three major matters. One was about the general situation of the Bottle Gourd Continent, involving the refining of the new mountain's five-colored soil as a life-bound object.

Another was about Li Xisheng and the Li family of Fortune Street. Cui Dongshan hoped that his master Chen Ping'an would continue to care for Little Baoping, but didn't need to feel too indebted to the Li family. It would be best to maintain a nodding acquaintance and not add unnecessary kindness.

The last matter was vague and sketchy, only saying to let Master wait a little longer. To shake something massive and firm, one must proceed slowly.

But Chen Ping'an knew what Cui Dongshan was talking about.

It was about his destiny porcelain.

Chen Ping'an's thoughts drifted far away. It was late autumn, with mournful winds swirling around the trees, the world desolate.

Suddenly, someone came quickly from behind, nearly bumping into Chen Ping'an. Chen Ping'an subtly sidestepped, and the person seemed caught off guard, paused, then hurried forward without looking back.

Chen Ping'an didn't pursue it. It must have been because, after leaving the Qingfu Pavilion, the woman had publicly given him a brocade box, drawing the covetous eyes of others.

Rogue cultivators sought wealth without any regard for Jianghu principles.

In the mountains south of Letter Writing Lake, Chen Ping'an had killed more middle-five-realm evil and ghost cultivators than he could count on both hands. Finally, he had fought and exchanged injuries with a golden core rogue cultivator, but they hadn't become mortal enemies. After that, both sides left each other alone. Neither Chen Ping'an sought revenge, nor did the other persist, using terrain and allies to start an ambush hunt.

Chen Ping'an turned his head and saw two grimy boys and girls, thin and sallow, short in stature, standing timidly not far away, looking up at Chen Ping'an leading his horse, their eyes full of hope. Each child held an open wooden box, selling small mountain items like porcelain bottles, small bronze statues, and picture cards. They had little spiritual energy, but they would be decent as scholarly desk ornaments for wealthy families. Most items cost one or two Snow Coins, but compared to prices in street shops, they were still quite expensive. They were probably the smallest peddlers in the world, but children like these often had a local power behind them, and the kids were just seeking food and warmth.

Chen Ping'an carefully selected a few items. After some bargaining, he bought three small things for twelve Snow Coins: a tile end inkstone inscribed with "Eternal Blessing," a pair of old pit yellow seal stones with pleasing vermilion hues, and a shallow bowl with a smooth, translucent red color. He planned to give them to Pei Qian when he returned to Fallen Mountain. That girl didn't really care about the price of things; she just wanted as many as possible.

Chen Ping'an took out Snow Coins from his sleeve and put the three items back inside.

The two children thanked him and ran off, probably afraid that this sucker would change his mind.

They walked lightly, overjoyed, and only slowed down once they were far away, whispering to each other.

Watching their young silhouettes from afar, full of hope.

Chen Ping'an smiled knowingly.

Back in the Pearl Shell Cave Heaven, every extra trip he made to deliver a letter, he could get an extra copper coin from Zheng Dafeng. He imagined that back then, his footsteps on Fortune Street and Peach Leaf Lane were even more hurried than these children's.

Glancing at the sky, Chen Ping'an went to a tavern near the ferry and bought a jug of Dragon Sinew Wine. He didn't go inside but sat by the roadside. Compared to the osmanthus brew of Old Dragon City and the Crow Cry Wine of Letter Writing Lake, it was much inferior, and the price was lower too. It was said the wine was made from water from a famous spring on the mountainside of Dilong Mountain. The source of all the spiritual energy on Dilong Mountain was rumored to be a section of dragon sinew that a great sword immortal had sliced off after a true dragon emerged from an underground dragon path, merging into the mountain and causing the spiritual energy to gush forth like a spring.

Chen Ping'an drank the wine sip by sip, rarely so leisurely. This trip south to revisit old places had been all about rushing, always counting the days for the return trip. He rarely had such a relaxed state of mind.

That horse, even without a tether, stood obediently in place, occasionally lifting a hoof and tapping lightly on the stone slabs.

Chen Ping'an had been keeping an eye on it, not giving it any chance to cause trouble.

He would take it back to Fallen Mountain to keep company the horse he had named Quhuang.

The pedestrians at the ferry, besides cultivators, were mostly wealthy or noble. Chen Ping'an drank his wine, quietly observing their words and actions, but only skimming the surface, his gaze fleeting.

Time passed leisurely.

Chen Ping'an put down his wine bowl, took his horse, and headed to the ferry.

After boarding, he settled the horse and began practicing his six-step stake standing in the cabin. He couldn't let himself fall behind Zhao Shuxia, whom he had taught boxing.

It seemed that every time he took a ferry, it was fist practice after fist practice.

One quiet night, Chen Ping'an went to the bow of the ship and sat on the railing. The full moon hung in the sky. Books said the moon is brighter in one's hometown, but none of the books in the Hao Ran World seemed to say that in another world, on the city wall, looking up, one would see the strange sight of three moons hanging in the sky. An outsider only needed to see it once to remember it for a lifetime.

Not far away, a pair of young men and women in splendid clothes walked by, whispering sweet nothings.

Chen Ping'an took off the Sword-Nurturing Gourd and took a sip of wine. Drinking now didn't have the same feeling as before. He could drink when worried or not, but there was no addiction—it was as natural as drinking water when he was young.

The young couple were thin-skinned. They hadn't expected such a large lantern hanging on the railing at this late hour, so they had to take a detour to a farther place to pour out their feelings. The man's hands kept making small moves, and the woman blushed shyly, occasionally glancing at that bothersome lantern. Seeing that the person seemed oblivious, she relaxed and let her lover have his way. Since this sect's trip down the mountain often had them sharing a room, it was rare to have time alone like this. They had agreed on the time and sneaked out of their rooms early.

Chen Ping'an simply lay back, crossed his legs, and held the Sword-Nurturing Gourd with both hands.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young man standing in the distance, looking dejected. His appearance was plain—indeed, not as good as the man who was now entangled with the woman.

Chen Ping'an didn't look further.

After the disappointed man left, an old woman stormed out onto the deck angrily. The couple instantly separated.

The bold man took a step back and lowered his head. The bashful woman, on the other hand, stepped forward and met the elder's gaze.

After a harsh scolding, the old woman flicked her sleeves and left.

The woman covered her face and sobbed, while the man comforted her with kind words.

From fragments of the old woman's words, Chen Ping'an learned that this group of Pine Creek Country immortal cultivators was heading to Cloud Mist Mountain to attend a ceremony. Someone there had just broken through to become a golden core earth immortal. As an elder of the sect's patriarch hall, the old woman was furious and forbade the woman from ascending the mountain, only allowing her to wait at the foot of Cloud Mist Mountain. In her words, the old woman showed clear favoritism toward the man. If not for an outsider present, the old woman would have called her a "seductress" and left it at that.

Once the old woman left, the smooth-talking man quickly made the woman laugh through her tears. Her tear-streaked smile was like the sky clearing after rain—the most infatuating and moving.

Chen Ping'an sighed softly. He never shifted his gaze, just staring at the sky with the bright moon and sparse stars.

After the couple returned to their respective rooms, another person came near the ship railing, looking utterly lost. He had secretly reported to the sect elder. Whether from guilt or a guilty conscience, he leaned on the railing, staring blankly at the night sky.

That person suddenly turned his head. "I advise you not to say anything."

The river of time flowed endlessly, and life was full of passing travelers.

Chen Ping'an completely ignored the young cultivator's threat.

The man flew into a rage. "Are you deaf?!"

Chen Ping'an nodded slightly. "Yes, I'm deaf."

The man was taken aback, then said menacingly, "Are you looking for death?!"

Chen Ping'an said slowly, "Talking to a deaf person—are you stupid?"

The man was so furious that smoke seemed to come from his seven orifices. He strode forward, but halfway there, he abruptly stopped. Remembering his sect's teachings and the rumors of the jianghu, he gave up on acting on impulse.

But this made him look like a paper tiger. The young cultivator hesitated, unsure whether to continue with verbal provocations or just leave, out of sight, out of mind.

Chen Ping'an asked, "If you really succeed in breaking up that couple, do you think you'll win the lady's heart? Or do you think that even if you take a step back and just win the beauty, that's enough?"

The young cultivator was silent.

Chen Ping'an sat up and turned to smile. "She's your senior sister, isn't she? The man your senior sister likes and the man who likes her—neither seems to be a good person. Don't you think that such a woman is miserable? Or are you willing to wait until the day your senior sister is betrayed and heartbroken, then seize the opportunity? Once you succeed, you'll discard her like a worn-out shoe as your revenge?"

The young cultivator clenched his fists, veins bulging.

Chen Ping'an smiled. "When you scrutinize the human heart, it's truly dreary. No wonder you mountain cultivators often examine your hearts—if you don't plant crops, you'll grow weeds."

The young cultivator's expression shifted slightly.

By this tone, this person wasn't a cultivator?

Just a jianghu swordsman, then?

Then, under that person's glance, for an instant, it felt like a bucket of cold water being poured over him. It was bizarre.

The young cultivator fled in panic, no longer caring about face or dignity. After all, this parting meant they would never meet again.

Chen Ping'an took a deep breath. After Letter Writing Lake, the solution he had thought up still wasn't very effective. Cui Cheng had once revealed the truth: the demon in one's heart has no distinction between good and evil—that is what makes it most terrifying. And even more terrifying, in Cui Cheng's words, was that Chen Ping'an had too good a memory and was too accustomed to scrutinizing details. Whatever advantage he had gained in the past, he would have to pay for in the future.

Blocking water is not as good as dredging.

He really needed to go to the North Juzhou Continent soon.

First, set a small goal, like remembering for 1 second: bookguest mobile version reading URL: