Chapter 479: Since Ancient Times, Drinkers Are the Hardest to Intoxicate

Chapter 479: Since Ancient Times, Drinkers Are the Hardest to Intoxicate

Inside the second floor, the old man Cui Cheng was still barefoot, but today he was not sitting cross-legged. Instead, he closed his eyes and concentrated, assuming a strange fist stance that Chen Ping'an had never seen before—one palm and one fist, one high and one low. Chen Ping'an did not disturb the old man's stance practice. He took off his bamboo hat, hesitated for a moment, and even removed the Sword Immortal talisman, sitting quietly to one side.

Cui Cheng opened his eyes, maintaining his posture without changing, and said slowly, "All fist techniques in the world are nothing more than hardness and softness. My fist technique can be called ultimate hardness. In my younger days, I traveled far and wide and saw many soft fist techniques, but I never encountered any fist style that truly deserved the name 'ultimate softness.'"

Chen Ping'an thought for a moment and then said, "Aside from fist manuals and stance practices, one's temperament and nature must also align. Compared to your fist technique, Senior, it's not about which is higher or lower, or which fist intent is heavier or lighter. But if we're talking about reaching the realm of ultimate softness, it should be even more difficult. Among the Daoist disciples who cultivate on the mountains, those willing to switch to fist practice stand a greater chance. For purebred jianghu martial artists, it's extremely difficult, almost impossible. The stance builds from the bottom up, and the intent emanates from the inside out. If the heart and mind don't reach it, forget about reaching the peak."

Cui Cheng withdrew his fist stance and nodded. "That's not a bad way to put it. It seems your understanding of fist principles is at least slightly better than that brat."

Chen Ping'an was used to this. Getting a compliment from this old man was as difficult as getting more than ten words out of Old Man Yang back when Zheng Dafeng tried to chat with him.

Cui Cheng then sat down, staring intently at this young man.

After returning from Shujian Lake, following the fist practice in this building and a trip through the central part of Baoping Continent, Chen Ping'an no longer had that gaunt, hollow-cheeked, haggard look. But the eyes are the gathering place of a person's spirit, and this young man's gaze had deepened, like an ancient well—either the well had dried up, leaving only pitch darkness, or it was overflowing with water, making it even harder to see the bottom.

Cui Cheng asked, "If you were given another chance—if time could flow backward, with the same state of mind—how would you handle Gu Can? Kill him or not?"

Chen Ping'an replied, "Still not kill him."

Cui Cheng frowned. "Why not kill him? If you killed him, you would have nothing to be ashamed of before heaven and earth. That kind of bitterness from slaying a close one, even if it weighs on your heart, would most likely make your punches heavier and your sword faster in the years to come. Men are spurred to great ambitions only through great grievances. You don't want to let your heart become a dull blade, grinding away your spirit. Killing Gu Can would also stop his wrongdoings, and it would be simpler and less taxing. Afterward, you could still make amends, continue doing what you were doing before. Could Gu Can really have done better than you at the water-and-land rituals and the great Daoist ceremonies? Chen Ping'an, I ask you: Why is it that when others commit evil, they can die by your fists and sword, but Gu Can, who gave you a meal and a fist manual, cannot die?!"

The old man's tone and words grew heavier and heavier. Finally, Cui Cheng's entire aura pressed down like an immense mountain. The strangest part was that Cui Cheng clearly had no fist intent on him—he wasn't even a tenth-realm martial artist at the moment. He was more like a Confucian scholar from an academy, sitting upright in his scholar's robe.

"Not ashamed before heaven and earth? Even the Chen Ping'an from Mud Vase Alley is no more. How dare you wield your sword and travel the world, speaking for her and for heaven and earth?"

Chen Ping'an twitched the corner of his mouth, as if sneering. "In Shujian Lake, I should have killed my own kin for the greater good? Killed Gu Can and walked away? Hard? Yes. But was it harder than spending three years in Shujian Lake? No. In the end, did my choice make the world of Shujian Lake a little bit better? Yes. After Gu Can survived and made up for the evil deeds and karmic debts he owed, will he still be incorrigible and do evil again, making it still a bad thing for the future world? I'm not sure. But I'm watching. Even when I travel far to Beiju Continent, it's not just Zeng Ye and Ma Duyi who will watch—Liu Zhimao of Qingxia Island, Liu Laocheng of Gongliu Island, Guan Yiran of Chicheng City—they are all watching."

The old man was still dissatisfied with this answer, even more furious. He glared, fists on his knees, leaning slightly forward, squinting as he said heavily, "Hard or not, how to regard Gu Can—that's a matter. I'm asking about your true heart now! Does principle have distinctions of closeness and distance? If you don't kill Gu Can today, what about Pei Qian of Luopo Mountain, Zhu Lian, Zheng Dafeng, Li Baoping of the academy, Li Huai, or even me, Cui Cheng, if we commit evil? How will you handle it then, Chen Ping'an?"

Chen Ping'an remained composed: "We'll settle that when the time comes."

Cui Cheng asked, "So what is your doubt now?"

"After talking with Wei Bo, one doubt is gone."

Chen Ping'an replied, "So now I just think about how to make a martial artist the strongest, how to train to become a Sword Immortal."

Cui Cheng shook his head. "A little child carrying a big basket—not much promise."

Chen Ping'an smiled. "Then I beg you, Senior, to live another hundred or thousand years, so we can see who is right?"

Cui Cheng glanced at the door of the room, which Chen Ping'an had intentionally or unintentionally left open, and mocked, "Judging by your entrance, you don't seem like someone bold enough to speak such words."

Chen Ping'an patted his stomach. "Some big words, when the moment comes, must be said or they fester."

Cui Cheng nodded. "Still itchy for a beating."

Chen Ping'an suddenly asked, "Senior, do you think I'm a good person?"

Cui Cheng nodded. "Yes."

Beyond chivalry and righteousness, doing good without expecting repayment—that can certainly be considered a good person.

Chen Ping'an asked again, "Do you think I'm a moral saint?"

Cui Cheng glanced at the young man. "Seems like it."

Chen Ping'an turned his head to look outside the house and smiled faintly. "Then it seems there really are too many clever people in this world."

Cui Cheng let out a hearty laugh, thoroughly amused, as if he had been waiting for Chen Ping'an to say that.

Chen Ping'an spoke slowly, "The old Daoist of Guan Dao Temple in the East Sea painstakingly instilled in me the study of veins and contexts. I also delved deeply into Buddhist logic and the fundamental doctrines of several Confucian lineages. Of course, to break through the deadlock, I also considered the statecraft studies of National Teacher Cui Chan. I pondered very hard and only dared say I occasionally gained some insights, but still I only understand the surface. However, during this time, I had a very strange thought..."

At this point, Chen Ping'an casually pulled a bamboo slip from his Foot-Inch Object and placed it on the ground before him. He lightly drew a line in the middle with his finger. "If we say the entire world is a 'One,' then whether the world is good or bad—can we say it depends on the gathering of all beings' good and evil thoughts, good and evil deeds, and then the two sides tug-of-war? When one side wins completely, will everything be turned upside down and replaced by another kind of existence? Good and evil, rules, morality—all will change. Just like when the divine path collapsed, the heavenly court crumbled, countless gods shattered, and the three teachings and hundred schools rose up to stabilize the mountains and rivers, leading to today's scene. But for cultivators who attain the Dao and achieve immortality, receiving the great fortune of being as eternal as heaven and earth, they have already completely severed ties with the mortal world. The person is no longer human, and heaven and earth change. Then what does it have to do with the 'I' who has already transcended all things?"

Cui Cheng pointed at the slender bamboo slip before Chen Ping'an. "Perhaps the answer was already there. Why ask others?"

Chen Ping'an looked down. On the yellowed bamboo slip was a line he had personally carved: "Temporary victory lies in strength; eternal victory lies in principle."

Chen Ping'an murmured, "But how many ordinary people at the foot of the mountain, or even cultivators on the mountain, can see this 'eternity'? Why is it so hard to be a good person? Why must one pay a price for speaking reason? Why, if this life is not good, can one only hope for the next? Why must speaking reason rely on status, power, iron cavalry, cultivation, fists, and swords?"

Cui Cheng laughed. "Can't figure it out?"

Chen Ping'an was silent.

Cui Cheng stood up and pointed upward. "If you can't figure it out, then go ask someone who might have figured it out. Like that Old Scholar—relying on his self-proclaimed 'unseasonable' knowledge, he could invite the Dao Ancestor and the Buddha to sit down. You, Chen Ping'an, have fists and a sword—why not give it a try?"

Chen Ping'an looked up.

Cui Cheng withdrew his hand and smiled. "Such big talk, and you believe it?"

Chen Ping'an smiled.

Cui Cheng asked, "What do you think of a scholar in a peaceful age who points at a warlord in a chaotic world, accusing him of slaughtering innocents even if he unifies the land, and calls him not a good thing?"

Chen Ping'an replied, "Forget about fundamental good and evil—it's just stupid and malicious. The key is that even if he acknowledges the warlord's merits, he doesn't truly recognize them in his heart. He only says it to pave the way for the second half of his statement, so he's stupid and malicious."

Cui Cheng pointed outside the house. "With this answer, that person who came to Luopo Mountain—whether to see you or not was in the balance—I reckon he's willing to see you now. The next step depends on whether you're willing to see him. How you talk when you meet is your own business. After you go out, remember to close the door."

Chen Ping'an turned to look. An old scholar in a Confucian robe—not shabby, nor noble.

Chen Ping'an stood up, walked outside, and gently closed the door. The old Confucian scholar leaned against the railing, gazing south. Chen Ping'an stood shoulder to shoulder with this former first disciple of the Sage of Literature, the Great Li Embroidery Tiger, Cui Chan.

Cui Chan went downstairs first, and Chen Ping'an followed. Together they climbed the mountain to the shrine of the mountain god at the peak.

Mountain God Song had already retreated from his golden body.

Leaving the bamboo building, they still walked side by side, ascending the stairs slowly.

Cui Chan's first sentence was entirely off-topic. "Wei Bo didn't notify you because I pressured him. You don't need to hold a grudge."

Chen Ping'an said, "Of course."

Cui Chan asked, "How did you find your trip to Shujian Lake?"

Chen Ping'an said, "To put it politely: it was okay. Even though I had a rough time, it wasn't without gains. Sometimes I actually have to thank you, since bad things are best happening early. If I were to throw harsh words: I've noted it down, and I'll collect the debt from you, National Teacher, when the opportunity arises."

Cui Chan gave a nonchalant "hmm," completely unbothered, and continued, "Fuyao Continent is starting to fall into chaos. Tongye Continent has turned misfortune into blessing—the plans of several great demons were exposed early, so it's beginning to stabilize. As for South Potala Continent, which is closest to Inverted Mountain, with Chen Chun'an there, it probably won't get chaotic no matter what. In the Central Earth Divine Continent, the Yin-Yang School's Lu clan—one of their old patriarchs exhausted all his cultivation to give the Confucian Temple a definite result: once the Sword Qi Great Wall is breached, Inverted Mountain will be taken back by the Second Dao Ancestor to the Green Abyss World. South Potala Continent and Fuyao Continent will very likely become spoils for the demons. So the demons will seize the qi fortune of those two continents. After that, there will be a brief period of calm, then they will focus on attacking the Central Earth Divine Continent. At that time, the land will be devastated, smoke and fire for thousands of miles. Countless Confucian saints and gentlemen will fall. The hundred schools of thought will also suffer severe losses. Fortunately, a scholar not belonging to any Confucian lineage left a solitary island overseas, split open a barrier of a certain secret realm with his sword, creating enough space to shelter a great number of refugees. The Confucian academy disciples of those three continents have already begun preparations for the future migration."

Cui Chan paused briefly. "This is only part of the truth. The complexities here—enemy and ally, within the Haoran World itself, within Confucianism itself, and the bets placed by the hundred schools—are a complete tangle. This is far more difficult than your grasping a single thread of someone's heart's path in Shujian Lake. When human hearts are all different, you can't blame the way of heaven for being inconstant."

Chen Ping'an's expression was blank. He instinctively reached for his Sword-Nurturing Gourd to drink, but quickly stopped.

Cui Chan climbed step by step, speaking slowly, "The silver lining is that we still have time."

Cui Chan said, "In his letter, Cui Dongshan probably didn't tell you these things. He likely wanted to wait until you, his teacher, returned from Beiju Continent before bringing them up—first, so as not to distract you from your sword training; second, by then, that disciple of yours, even under the guise of Cui Dongshan, would have gained some influence in our Baoping Continent, so he could show off a bit before you. I can even roughly guess that at that time, he would say to you, 'Teacher, rest assured. As long as this disciple is here, Baoping Continent will be here.' Cui Dongshan would feel that state of mind is very reassuring to him. The fact that Cui Dongshan is now willing to do things willingly, far better than my schemes to force him into action, is something I also need to thank you for."

Chen Ping'an said nothing.

Cui Chan glanced at the jade hairpin tucked in Chen Ping'an's bun. "Chen Ping'an, how should I put it? When you are clever and cautious, you never seemed like a youth, and even now you don't seem like a young man just come of age. But when you act foolish, you also miss the obvious—with people and things alike. Why did Zhu Lian have to remind you that the partridge's call on the mountain sounds? If you were truly calm at heart, like a Buddha, as you usually are in your actions, why would you be afraid to say goodbye to a friend? In the world's grudges and loves, don't look at what is said, but what is done."

"Moreover, have you never considered that at the Battle of Old Dragon City, the one who made a move was the Ascension Realm cultivator Du Mao, with his lifebound object, the Sword-Swallowing Boat. That's why even the jade token of the Foot-Inch Object she gave you was destroyed. If it were an ordinary hairpin, could it still exist?"

Cui Chan clasped his hands behind his back and looked up. "See the whole from a single detail. Always staring at the radiant sun, your heart like a flower and tree turning toward the light—but should you also look back at the shadow behind you?"

Chen Ping'an reached up and touched the jade hairpin, then withdrew his hand and asked, "National Teacher, why are you telling me these sincere words?"

Cui Chan smiled freely. "Half of me is now your disciple. My grandfather still lives in your home. As the National Teacher of Great Li, should I or should I not distinguish between public and private matters?"

Chen Ping'an believed it, but not entirely.

Cui Chan walked to the top of the steps, turned around, and gazed into the distance.

Chen Ping'an took off his Sword-Nurturing Gourd, raised it, said "I'll have a drink," and sat down on the step.

Cui Chan asked, "Who do you think will be the new emperor of Great Li? The feudal prince Song Changjing? Song Jixin, who was raised in Lizhu Cave Heaven? Or Song He, the prince favored by the empress dowager?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head.

Cui Chan smiled. "Song Changjing chose Song Jixin. I chose my own disciple, Song He. Then we made a compromise: south of Lake-Viewing Academy, a secondary capital will be built in a certain place. Song Jixin will be enfeoffed as a prince at Old Dragon City, while also holding remote authority over the secondary capital. In all this, the empress dowager, who ate vegetarian meals in Eternal Spring Palace for several years, couldn't get a word in edgewise—she didn't dare speak, afraid of death. She probably still thinks she's dreaming, unable to believe such good fortune could really happen. Actually, the late emperor had hoped that his younger brother Song Changjing would act as regent and then ascend the throne himself. But Song Changjing refused, and in front of me, he personally burned that edict."

Chen Ping'an drank some wine, wiped his mouth, and said, "So it seems, everyone is happy."

Cui Chan asked, "After you left Red Candle Town back then and traveled south to Shujian Lake, how did you feel?"

Chen Ping'an said, "A lot of people died."

Cui Chan gently lifted his foot and lightly pressed it down. "In this world, joys and sorrows, partings and reunions—naturally, they have no distinction of value. Even their weight doesn't differ much. But their position—there is a difference between high and low."

Cui Chan asked, "Do you know why I chose Great Li as my foothold? And why did Qi Jingchun choose to establish the Cliff Academy in Great Li? At the time, Qi Jingchun didn't lack choices—he had many, and they could all have been better."

Chen Ping'an said, "I only know it wasn't, as rumor has it, because Mr. Qi wanted to restrain you, his senior brother who betrayed the master. As for the truth, I'm not clear."

Cui Chan smiled slightly. "What Qi Jingchun loved most in his life was doing thankless tasks. He was afraid that the turmoil I stirred up in Baoping Continent would be too great, great enough to implicate the Old Scholar, who had already severed ties. So he had to personally watch what I was doing before he could rest easy. He felt responsible for the lives of an entire continent. He believed that no matter what we pursued, if a price had to be paid, we could make fewer mistakes by being more careful. And correcting mistakes and making amends—that is the responsibility of a scholar. A scholar cannot just talk about serving the country in empty words. In this regard, you and he are the same in Shujian Lake—you like to take burdens. Otherwise, where would that deadlock have died? Kill Gu Can outright, and in the future, when you become a Sword Immortal, it would be a considerable tale of virtue."

Chen Ping'an said nothing.

Cui Chan laughed. "I know you don't believe me. It doesn't matter. I tell you these things—they are personal matters, and they come with selfish intent."

Cui Chan asked, "Have you ever wondered why A Liang, who had such a good relationship with Qi Jingchun, didn't kill me back then in the Great Li capital, didn't even kill the late emperor, but only damaged that imitation Jade Capital and left the late emperor three more years of life?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "I don't know."

Cui Chan smiled gently. "Try following the vein study of that stinky Daoist—think more about the established facts you've already seen, and deduce a bit. It's actually not difficult."

Chen Ping'an said slowly, "The Great Li iron cavalry advanced south much faster than anticipated, because the Great Li emperor also had selfish motives—he wanted to see the seashore of southern Baoping Continent alongside the Great Li iron cavalry before he died."

Cui Chan pointed to a direction. "Now look at Inverted Mountain and the Sword Qi Great Wall."

Chen Ping'an frowned. "That great battle that decided the ownership of the Sword Qi Great Wall—it was A Liang who turned the tide. The Yin-Yang School's Lu clan's deductions, looking only at results, not the process, ultimately had major flaws."

Cui Chan shifted his finger. "What about Tongye Continent?"

Chen Ping'an said, "On the surface, qi fortune protected the continent, exposing the demons' plans early, allowing it to escape disaster. If we assume the demons really could breach the Great Wall, Tongye Continent wouldn't be suitable as the first direction of attack. The crisis would lean toward South Potala Continent and Fuyao Continent, especially the latter."

Cui Chan pointed to the ground. "Our Baoping Continent—how is its territory?"

Chen Ping'an took a sip of wine. "It is the smallest among the nine continents of Haoran World."

Cui Chan asked again, "Territories have sizes—do the qi fortunes of each continent have sizes?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head. No, they don't.

Cui Chan's pointing finger moved southward. "You are about to go to Beiju Continent. So, is the distance between Baoping Continent and Tongye Continent considered close?"

Chen Ping'an clenched his Sword-Nurturing Gourd and said, "Compared to the distances between other continents, it is extremely close."

Cui Chan raised his hand and pointed behind him. "Earlier, the swarm of sword cultivators from Beiju Continent, blotting out the sky, rushing to reinforce the Sword Qi Great Wall—is that what you saw with your own eyes?"

Chen Ping'an's forehead beaded with sweat. He nodded with difficulty.

Cui Chan smiled. "Before, it's no wonder you couldn't see clearly these so-called great trends of the world. Now, one of the thread ends of this line has appeared. First, let me ask you: The old abbot of Guan Dao Temple in the East Sea—is he not dead set on comparing his Daoist methods with the Dao Ancestor's?"

Chen Ping'an nodded.

Cui Chan asked again, "And do you know why people like to joke and call Daoists 'stinky Daoist with an ox nose'?"

Chen Ping'an said, "Because, according to legend, the Dao Ancestor once rode a green ox and traveled through various worlds."

Cui Chan sighed softly. "This is one of the thread ends. That old abbot—he is one of the oldest beings alive in this world. You cannot imagine how old he is."

Chen Ping'an tucked his Sword-Nurturing Gourd back in, rubbed his face with both hands—his palms were all sweat.

So that was the true identity of the old abbot of Guan Dao Temple in the East Sea.

Cui Chan smiled. "How about you think about the worst outcome that brought the best result for Tongye Continent? The young man who inadvertently exposed the great demon's plan at the Fuzong Sect—could it have been the old Daoist's handiwork? The young man himself was certainly unintentional, but the old Daoist acted with intent."

Chen Ping'an took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and used the Sword Furnace stance to settle his mind.

Chaotic thoughts swirled like falling snow.

Even if we ignore the survival of Tongye Continent, what about the people I know? What do we do?

"I'll give you one piece of advice: don't go adding legs to a snake. Believe it or not, people who wouldn't have died, who might even have turned misfortune into blessing, could become doomed if you speak up. As I said before, fortunately, we still have time."

Cui Chan clearly wasn't too concerned about this. He didn't care how Chen Ping'an would act. He just said calmly, "I once traveled the world too. One of my fundamental studies, besides the statecraft that the Old Scholar looks down on, lies in the word 'meticulous.' So before I even set foot in Baoping Continent, I was already convinced of two things: that the demons would break the Sword Qi Great Wall—inevitable! And once the demons invaded Haoran World, attacking Tongye Continent was inevitable! Once Tongye Continent fell, what could a tiny Baoping Continent amount to? What could Beiju Continent, with half its top sword cultivators drawn away, amount to?! What backbone does an Ai'ai Continent dominated by merchants have when facing a strong enemy?"

Cui Chan waved his hand grandly. "At the very least, three continents would fall into their hands in an instant! If Ai'ai Continent, after assessing the situation, chooses to surrender without a fight—or even if they choose neutrality and help neither side—who loses more? With that, the demons would have seized several continents' actual territory and qi fortune. Wouldn't that count as establishing a foothold? How many continents does Haoran World have in total? Then the demons would slowly scheme against the northwestern Liuxia Continent. Is it really as some self-proclaimed clever people think—once the demons enter, they'll only be trapped like dogs beating them at a closed door? Instead, Haoran World would have a chance to seize the momentum and occupy the Barbaric Wilderness World?"

Chen Ping'an slowly stood up. "I understand."

Not only did he understand why Cui Dongshan had asked that question back at the Cliff Academy, but he also understood why A Liang hadn't slaughtered the Great Li dynasty back then.

Cui Chan laughed loudly, looking around. "They call me Cui Chan ambitious, wanting to spread my personal knowledge across an entire continent, to be the national teacher of a country that rules a continent—that's considered great ambition?"

Cui Chan sneered, shaking his head in mockery. "Smash a mountain with one fist, kill ten thousand people with one sword—powerful? Satisfying? Under the great trend, Chen Ping'an, you can just wait and see. Count on your fingers: the Upper Five Realm cultivators of Tongye Continent—good or evil—how many will keep their mountain peaks, how many will survive as immortals? And watch the demons flooding onto the shores of Tongye Continent—will they collect fees? Will they speak reason?"

Cui Chan's mouth curled up. "Everything must be repaid."

Cui Chan extended a palm, slicing downward like a knife. "Back in the Great Li capital, A Liang didn't say a word to me about this. But I was even more certain then that A Liang believed the worst outcome would come—just like Qi Jingchun believed. It had nothing to do with whether they approved of me, Cui Chan, as a person. So I want the scholars of all Haoran World—and those beasts of the Barbaric Wilderness World—to see clearly how I, Cui Chan, will single-handedly convert the resources of an entire continent into the power of one nation, using Old Dragon City as a pivot point, and forge a wall of bronze and iron along the entire southern coast of Baoping Continent!"

Cui Chan flicked his sleeve, and the wind and clouds shifted.

Atop Luopo Mountain, mist began to gather.

The world turned pitch black, so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. At the same time, Chen Ping'an noticed that beneath his feet, pieces of the territory of the land gradually emerged, dotted like the lights of a thousand homes in a city.

South Potala Continent. Southwestern Fuyao Continent. Eastern Baoping Continent. Southeastern Tongye Continent. The continent that had stolen the prefix 'Bei'—Ju Continent (Beiju). The due-north Ai'ai Continent. Western Jinjia Continent. Northwestern Liuxia Continent.

Finally, the Central Earth Divine Continent, surrounded like a constellation of stars around the moon.

The sky was round and the earth square.

This was not surprising, because Haoran World itself was one of the 'fragments'—as were the Daoist-governed Green Abyss World and the Barbaric Wilderness World.

Chen Ping'an seemed about to speak but stopped, ultimately not asking the question, because he already had the answer.

Why didn't you, Cui Chan, announce this to the world?

If you speak, no one will listen. If they listen, they may not believe.

And once revealed, the demons would naturally adapt.

Cui Chan changed the subject, smiling slightly. "There was once an ancient prophecy, not widely circulated. I imagine few people believe it anymore. When I was young and happened to flip through a book, I stumbled upon that line and felt that I truly owed that person a cup of wine. The prophecy said: 'The Art of Calculation shall win the world.' Not the branch of yin-yang diviners known as 'artists,' but the humblest of the hundred schools—the study of arithmetic and calculation. Even looked down upon more than the despised merchant school. The benefit of its core teachings? Ridiculed as merely a merchant's abacus..."

Cui Chan continued, "Among all the teachings of our three religions and hundred schools, do you know where the flaw lies? It is that they cannot be measured, they do not discuss veins and contexts, they lean more toward questioning the heart, they prefer to seek the Great Dao in the lofty and empty, unwilling to precisely measure the road beneath their feet. Hence, when later generations practice these teachings and begin to walk, problems arise. And the sages—they are not skilled at, nor do they wish to, explain in detail. The Dao Ancestor left three thousand words and already thought that was too many. The Buddha simply refused to set down any words. Our supreme sage-Confucius's fundamental teachings were also compiled into classics by his seventy-two disciples summarizing his instructions."

Cui Chan turned his head to look at the dazzled Chen Ping'an. "You suffered so much hardship in Shujian Lake, Chen Ping'an. Why? Did you lack knowledge of principles? Did you lack experience with people and events? Was the Old Scholar's sequence theory lacking? I think not."

Chen Ping'an was unwilling to discuss this matter further.

Instead, he asked, "Why are you revealing heavenly secrets to me?"

Cui Chan smiled faintly. "Before the chess game of Shujian Lake began, I made a pact with myself: if you won, I would tell you these things, as a way to settle accounts with you and Qi Jingchun together."

Chen Ping'an asked, "Won? Are you telling a joke?"

Cui Chan nodded. "It is a joke."

Cui Chan shook his sleeve, and the map of the land instantly vanished. He sneered, "You, Qi Jingchun, A Liang, the Old Scholar, and in the future, Chen Qingdu, Chen Chun'an—the things you do, in the eyes of so many self-satisfied clever people, aren't they all jokes, one after another?"

Cui Chan turned his head, looking at this young man with his green robe, jade hairpin, and Sword-Nurturing Gourd—a swordsman, a wandering knight, a scholar?

Cui Chan raised a finger and pointed at his own head. "The chess game of Shujian Lake is over. But life is not a game of chess—you can't always have a new board. Good and bad are still here with you. If you continue along your current state of mind and path, your achievements might not be low. But you are destined to disappoint some people and please others. And both the disappointed and the pleased—they have nothing to do with good and evil. However, I'm certain that you would be unwilling to know that answer—unwilling to know who is on each side."

Chen Ping'an looked at this Great Li National Teacher.

Indeed, he was very similar to the young Cui Dongshan, but he was already clearly a different person.

Cui Chan seemed struck by emotion and finally spoke two sentences unrelated to the greater picture.

"In a noble mansion, a hundred-foot tower can hold up a round of moonlight. In the market alleys, one who carries water home can also bring back two bright moons."

"Since ancient times, drinkers are the hardest to get drunk."

Chen Ping'an sat back down on the steps, took off his Sword-Nurturing Gourd, but raised his hand several times without drinking.

Cui Chan said, "In your heart, Qi Jingchun as a scholar and A Liang as a swordsman are like the sun and moon in the sky, showing you the way, helping you travel day and night. Now that I've told you this—you already know Qi Jingchun's fate, and you know how A Liang wielded his sword, whether it was satisfying or not. So here's the question, Chen Ping'an: have you truly thought about how you will walk from now on?"

Chen Ping'an remained silent.

And then Cui Chan left.

Because he wasn't actually interested in the answer.

Chen Ping'an lay back, putting the Sword-Nurturing Gourd beside him, and closed his eyes.

For no reason, he recalled the line carved on the wall of the Yellow Millet Tavern at Inverted Mountain, the crooked characters like crawling earthworms.

It was written by A Liang for Mr. Qi.

"The jianghu isn't that great; it just has decent wine."

Chen Ping'an suddenly opened his eyes, stood up, and silently recited in his heart.

A golden long line shot out from the bamboo building of Luopo Mountain, arriving at the peak. Chen Ping'an grasped it in his palm, the sword tip pointing downward, gently hooked the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, finally extended his arm holding the sword forward, and smiled faintly. "As long as there's wine, that's more than enough."

Chen Ping'an went down the mountain with his sword, drinking frequently. After drinking freely, he was truly drunk, staggering. Passing by the courtyard of Zhu Lian and the others, he happened to see Cen Yuanji practicing fists under the moonlight.

When she noticed his reek of alcohol, her gaze shrank, and she stopped her fist stance, breaking her fist intent.

Chen Ping'an passed by with a smile. After stumbling far away, he didn't stop walking. On the forest path, he turned his head and said, "Cen Yuanji, your fistwork really isn't up to par."

Cen Yuanji closed one eye, raised a finger, as if about to speak.

With a bang.

Chen Ping'an fell flat on the ground.

Cen Yuanji sighed inwardly. Putting on airs as a master and talking big—what was that about?

The young mountain lord quickly picked up his Sword Immortal talisman and Sword-Nurturing Gourd, moving much faster.

Look at that—he was clearly faking being drunk earlier.

Cen Yuanji turned to glance at Old Immortal Zhu's residence, feeling indignant. To have such a reckless mountain lord—truly, she had boarded a pirate ship.

By the cliff, Chen Ping'an lay slumped on the stone table, his hot cheek pressed against the cool surface, staring into the distance.

He blinked, shook his head, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him.

In Longquan Prefecture, who would dare to fly about so hurriedly like that?

Far in the distance, a white rainbow streaked across the sky, its momentum astonishing. It must have alarmed many cultivators on the various peaks.

Chen Ping'an closed his eyes and ignored it.

On Luopo Mountain, what was there to fear?

And so he fell asleep.

That night, a white-robed youth with a mole between his eyebrows, enchanted by the thought of seeing his teacher, used all his divine abilities and treasures, hurriedly returning north—only to be destined to hurry south again.

He gently lifted the slumbering green-robed young man onto his back, walked softly toward the bamboo building, and murmured lowly, "Teacher."

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