Chapter 494: White Jade Capital in the Sky
At daybreak, the old man in black robe had already put away his fishing rod. The silver carp naturally delighted in moonlight and feared sunlight; only under the cover of night would it leave the water's bottom and swim around foraging for food. If by chance it took the bait during the day, even if dragged ashore, the intelligent silver carp would choose mutual destruction, causing the two dragon-whiskers of the carp to lose their spiritual energy. Though it wouldn't completely become a mundane thing, its quality would inevitably plummet.
However, the group of three did not become disheartened. When fishing for big fish in lakes and marshes, it was common to wait all night without results, even for the green and grass carp that ordinary mountain fishermen longed for, let alone spiritual fish like the silver carp. After the old man put away his rod, he began to replace the fishing line and hook. The hook, in particular, became exceptionally delicate and intricate, barely the size of a thumb. The youth also started preparing new bait, spending even more money, probably intending to fish for the rarer golden spiral fish.
The youth remembered something and turned to look at the big tree, shouting, "Fellow Daoist, if you want to catch a spiral fish, it's purely a matter of luck. There are no taboos. How about we go fishing together at the lake's center? I have a bamboo raft, and we can raft fish together."
The female attendant wanted to stop him but it was already too late.
The youth took out a heavy copper coin as large as a child's palm, gently rubbed it between his palms, and conjured a miniature bamboo raft the length of a finger. He lightly exhaled on it and then tossed it into the lake. The raft suddenly expanded, causing ripples on the water.
Chen Ping'an hesitated for a moment, then nodded, jumped down from the branch, and walked toward the shore.
The woman used the technique of sound condensation into a thread to remind the old man in black that the young man was also a martial artist, and at a realm higher than hers.
He had been sleeping in the tree last night, breathing long and steady like flowing water, and his fist intent was pure and condensed—a true expert who had formally entered the halls of martial arts.
The deep sleep of a martial artist only reached the state of being half-asleep and half-awake after entering the Three Realms of Spirit Refining. At that point, fist intent flowed through the entire body as if protected by a deity.
So this young wandering swordsman was most likely a scion of a powerful clan.
The old man in black robe told the woman via the ripples of his heart lake, "I only worry about those Earth Immortal wild cultivators with dubious backgrounds. If it's a young martial artist with high skill, there's no need to worry too much. Our Three-Lang Temple is least afraid of those mountain peaks without legs. Don't worry. When fishing, I'll keep an eye on him. The young master is wearing both a dharma robe and an armor pill, capable of withstanding two full-force strikes from a Golden Core sword cultivator. There won't be any mistakes."
Chen Ping'an stepped onto the bamboo raft. The woman skillfully poled, and the raft slowly drifted toward the center of the lake. He sat on a stool that the youth proactively offered. Chen Ping'an thanked him, took out his own fishing rod from his portable object, and naturally had to borrow the special bait from the young master. The woman's eyes flickered with slight surprise—it wasn't common for a martial artist to carry a dimensional object. It confirmed that he was indeed the scion of a powerful family. The old man, however, remained unperturbed, his expression calm, and even joined his young master in chatting with the young wanderer who had taken off his bamboo hat. Both sides understood tacitly not to mention names or family backgrounds.
A martial artist wearing a dharma robe traveling the four directions meant he had indeed not yet entered the Three Realms of Spirit Refining in martial arts.
The young master, clearly from a distinguished background, seemed to have little experience traveling the world. After casting his line together with Chen Ping'an, he bluntly said, "Esteemed sir, I feel that those of us who truly love fishing rarely have bad people. What do you think? Grandpa Liu and Sister Fan are always on guard against you. I think that's not good."
The old man in black robe remained leisurely, picking up some bait from the wooden basin and casually tossing it into the lake.
But the female attendant surnamed Fan felt a bit awkward.
Chen Ping'an didn't know how to respond, so he took a moment and gave a balanced answer: "Bad people may exist, but there are certainly fewer. When traveling and training, no amount of caution is excessive."
The youth shook his head and sighed. "I know you mean well, but from my great-grandfather to my grandfather, and then to my parents, every time I leave home, they all speak and sound like this. I'm really tired of it."
Chen Ping'an didn't say anything else.
It was just a chance encounter—other people's family matters were not something he should comment on.
But this youth... wasn't he being a bit too unreserved?
What kind of family background allowed him to be so carefree?
Chen Ping'an's mind stirred slightly, but he deliberately pretended not to notice, still staring at the lake's surface.
The old man in black robe turned to look into the distance and said with a smile, "Young master, Du Wensi of the Hemp-Clad Sect is about to arrive. We lingered too long at Orchid Musk Town earlier. He probably doesn't have the right itinerary and fears we might have had an accident, so this young Golden Core master can't sit still."
The youth looked somewhat resentful. He hated these social obligations the most. If it were like-minded peers, it would be fine, but when it came to relationships between his grandparents, he really wasn't good at managing connections. The female martial artist said softly, "Young master, I heard Du Wensi has a gentle temperament and doesn't seek conflict. Back then, when he left Skeleton Beach to travel north, he passed by our home and got along well with the old master, becoming a friendship across generations. I imagine he'll get along with you too."
The youth nodded, made a funny face at the woman, and said with a smile, "Sister Fan, I still understand the etiquette of being away from home."
The woman's gaze was tender, and the corners of her mouth lifted.
Chen Ping'an glanced at them and then looked away.
Alright.
This silly boy next to him probably wouldn't understand the silent words in Sister Fan's eyes for a long time.
A cultivator in a snow-white hemp-clad robe came flying leisurely with the wind. In the distant sky, thunder boomed like winter thunder rolling.
As he neared Copper Green Lake, the Earth Immortal of the Hemp-Clad Sect slowed his sword flight. His speed wasn't slow, but the commotion was almost nonexistent, nearly silent.
He didn't land directly on the bamboo raft but chose to wait quietly on the shore without speaking, probably afraid of disturbing the fish in Copper Green Lake.
He seemed like a good-tempered person.
Chen Ping'an prepared to put away his fishing rod.
Unexpectedly, the youth said with a smile, "If you still want to fish, go ahead. I'll leave the raft for you. I might have to go to Green Furnace Town first and then come back to Copper Green Lake to catch the silver carp. You have a dimensional object after all. I can teach you a technique to collapse and expand the bamboo raft—it's very simple. When you're done, just bring it to Green Furnace Town and hand it over to any cultivator from the Hemp-Clad Sect."
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "No need. I have to travel immediately. I only boarded the raft to fish this time to clear my mind."
The youth wasn't about to force his kindness on others.
They returned to the shore together. The youth put away the bamboo raft, bowed to the young Golden Core cultivator of the Hemp-Clad Sect, and said with a bright smile, "Yuan Xuan of Three-Lang Temple pays respects to Uncle Du."
Du Wensi smiled and nodded. "I guessed you'd be fishing here at Copper Green Lake, so I originally planned to find you a bit later. But Sect Master Zhu Quan urged me, so I had to come. How is your great-grandfather's health?"
Yuan Xuan laughed. "He's still vigorous."
Du Wensi chuckled.
Chen Ping'an clasped his fists and said goodbye.
When Chen Ping'an and Du Wensi's eyes met, they both nodded to each other almost simultaneously.
Chen Ping'an hadn't taken a few steps when Yuan Xuan caught up to him and said softly, "If you're going to Green Furnace Town, it's best to take the official road. It's a detour, but it's safe. If you want speed, you'll have to cross that barbaric miasma land infested with great demons. Each one claims territory like kings, with audacity like never before. They call themselves the Six Saints, band together for strength, and jointly resist the city lords in the central part of Ghost Valley. They're quite ferocious. The city ghosts and this group of monsters frequently fight to the death, like a battlefield. I heard there's even a great demon who specializes in collecting military manuals, studying military strategy all day. Ridiculous, isn't it?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "I'll be more careful. I wish you a successful catch—both the spiral fish and the silver carp in your bag."
Yuan Xuan nodded vigorously. Since he had already let slip earlier, he simply introduced himself, "My name is Yuan Xuan, a disciple of Three-Lang Temple."
Chen Ping'an hesitated for a moment and then said with a smile, "My name is Chen Ping'an, from Bottle Gourd Continent."
Yuan Xuan grinned. "Actually, from your accent, I could tell you're from a different continent."
Chen Ping'an laughed. "A veteran wanderer."
Yuan Xuan was taken aback. "Really?"
Chen Ping'an said, "Just a polite remark."
Yuan Xuan laughed heartily, thoroughly amused.
See? Anglers across the world are family—no bad people.
He had loved fishing since childhood, naturally brought up by his great-grandfather who was an expert at it. His great-grandfather had long said the wise delight in water, and avid fishing was especially commendable, because intelligent and sharp people find it hardest to settle their minds, and fishing demands precisely that—a settled mind.
With that, they parted ways.
Yuan Xuan of Three-Lang Temple, along with his attendants, followed Du Wensi along the official road to Green Furnace Town.
Chen Ping'an, on the other hand, headed toward Copper Crown Mountain.
He would go and meet the Mountain-Moving Ape and the Trail-Chasing Dog there, especially the former, to better understand their bronze skin and iron bones.
As for the Three-Lang Temple that Yuan Xuan belonged to, when Chen Ping'an was researching the local customs of Ju Lu Continent in Dragon Spring Commandery, he had already learned that Three-Lang Temple was the largest weapon shop in Northern Ju Lu Continent, with an excellent reputation and friends all over the world. Of course, what Three-Lang Temple cultivators were most famous for was that each one of them could fight.
No wonder.
Youth Yuan Xuan was so innocent and kind-hearted.
He was a bit like Fan Er of Old Dragon City.
And a bit like Liu Youzhou of Ai Ai Continent, who had an ape-trampling manor in Hanging Mountain.
A disciple of Three-Lang Temple that even Hemp-Clad Sect Master Zhu Quan cared about and Du Wensi personally welcomed—in his eyes, were those mountain and lake spirits of Ghost Valley really deserving of terms like "great demon" and "ferocious"?
In the end, he was just reminding Chen Ping'an kindly.
If all children from wealthy families were like this, maybe the world would be much more peaceful.
Unfortunately, there were many such sons of power and privilege: the Yellow Crane of Book-Seeing Lake, the imperial prince he met at the border inn of Tongye Continent's Great Spring Dynasty, and the other prince who failed to kill him on that snowy night and ended up dead instead. Even if you could kill them, and had killed them, there seemed to be no end to them. They would sprout like bamboo shoots after a spring rain, one batch after another, forever renewed by the spring breeze—never just the tender grass.
Was it that there were too few people like Mr. Qi in this world, or was it that people like Cui Chan had to exist?
Chen Ping'an walked along a desolate path in the wilderness, took a sip from his Sword-Nurturing Gourd, and found that it was just mountain stream water, not wine.
He looked back at his own silhouette under the sunlight.
Chen Ping'an tapped his toes and flew over the withered reeds, heading straight for Copper Crown Mountain.
The Mountain-Moving Great Sage, one of the Six Saints of Ghost Valley, originated from Copper Crown Mountain. That Mountain-Moving Ape had tempered its body to an extremely formidable level and wielded a pair of meteor hammers.
——
Over at Yuan Xuan's side, when the youth discovered that Du Wensi was a gentle and taciturn elder, he began to talk more, telling Du Wensi all his interesting experiences along the way.
At one point, Du Wensi casually turned his head and glanced once at the back of the young wanderer. This young Golden Core cultivator, equal in fame to Yang Lin of the Mural City from the Hemp-Clad Sect, seemed thoughtful. There had been some commotion at Skin Sticky City recently—it was said that a young sword immortal had heavily injured someone near Crow Ridge, and Fan Yunluo almost died under his sword. Pu Rang of White Cage City intervened to prevent further trouble. He wondered how Yuan Xuan had gotten to know this person. The man didn't seem impatient, so why was he so sharp and aggressive? He had only been in Ghost Valley for a short while and had already alarmed Pu Rang? If Pu Rang was determined to kill, no one in Ghost Valley could stop him—not the sect master, and perhaps not even that Jade Pupil realm spirit from Jingguan City.
Pu Rang was especially ruthless when it came to killing sword cultivators; he never showed mercy.
Du Wensi thought about the recent stirrings, the undercurrents flowing among the major cities, and felt some concern.
In the unseen, a storm was brewing.
Du Wensi was already the cultivator in the Hemp-Clad Sect who paid the least attention to worldly matters outside cultivation. From the sect master to his fellow disciples, they had intentionally kept him away from these affairs, letting him focus on breaking through bottlenecks. But now even he could sense the restless movements—this spoke volumes about the severity of the situation in Ghost Valley.
As for Fan Yunluo of Skin Sticky City publicly claiming him as her sworn brother, Du Wensi found it both amusing and exasperating. He admired her creativity in coming up with such an idea and let her be.
The foundation of a cultivator's path was like a mountain; worldly phenomena were just passing clouds. The withering and flourishing of mountain plants, the flowing of mountain streams—nothing needed to be held onto, so nothing needed to be worried about.
Chen Ping'an walked slowly.
His thoughts drifted far away, unable to settle his mind.
Perhaps this world wasn't as good as we imagined.
But perhaps it wasn't as bad as we imagined either.
But every "perhaps" implied accidents and possibilities.
Everyone we meet on the path of life might be someone else's beloved dream.
Chen Ping'an increasingly understood the mental paths of those who did evil.
But he still didn't understand why such people could live so well, even better than the good.
Unconsciously, Chen Ping'an's gaze turned deep and dark.
——
The haze over Chen Ping'an's heart soon dissipated. He had just felt a bit frustrated. When he arrived at Copper Crown Mountain, he didn't encounter even a single Trail-Chasing Dog, let alone the Mountain-Moving Ape.
It seemed Du Wensi's earlier wind-riding journey had been too loud, startling the spirits and ghosts here.
Chen Ping'an felt helpless.
Normally, the violent Mountain-Moving Ape, once it caught even a whiff of human scent, should have appeared willingly.
Deliberately, Chen Ping'an lingered, but after most of a day, wandering around with the cultivation of an ordinary fifth-realm martial artist, not a single fish took the bait.
He had to stop at a place with a broad view, planning to spend the night there. If nothing happened overnight, he would give up and continue his journey.
He didn't believe he wouldn't run into any of the Six Saint monsters later.
After nightfall, Chen Ping'an lit a campfire and sat through the night, practicing sword furnace stance.
Finally, he had to leave Copper Crown Mountain.
On Copper Crown Mountain, inside a secret cave that reeked of filth, a silver-backed Mountain-Moving Ape that had not chosen to transform into human form peered through a hidden window the size of a palm. Though it walked like a human, its face, body, and fur were still quite conspicuous.
It beckoned, and soon a short, weasel-faced man scurried over. The ape said hoarsely, "Go quickly to report to the Mountain-Moving Great Sage and that group of guests. Tell them that fellow really came. Confirmed—he's the one who made Skin Sticky City suffer a major loss."
The short man was about to leave through an underground passage.
The ape reminded him, "Remember to be clever. Choose a hidden route. Better to go the long way than to bump into his sword tip and die. Your death doesn't matter, but if you delay the Great Sage's important business, I'll stew your whole nest of mice, young and old."
The man flattered, "I won't mess up the important business."
The man followed the passage, emerged from a crevice in a rock face far from the cave, and lunged forward, returning to his true form—a huge black rat the size of a dog. Then he started sprinting.
Birds had bird paths, rats had rat paths.
This rat spirit, seemingly plump, was actually quite agile, crossing mountains and ridges like thunder. It dared not stop, running all the way.
After leaving the Copper Crown Mountain area, the rat suddenly burrowed into the ground, disappearing. About half an incense stick later, it emerged from under tree roots a mile away, poked its head out cautiously, and confirmed no one was following before continuing its journey.
But the rat never imagined that someone was following from afar. That someone had taken off his bamboo hat, sword immortal, and Sword-Nurturing Gourd, then covered his face with a youthful mask.
The rat had been careful enough, but the other's skill seemed even higher.
At noon, carefully crossing the border between two great demon territories, the rat finally arrived at the Mountain-Moving Great Sage's mountain peak. After reverting to human form, he was drenched in sweat, panting heavily.
Although the Six Saints were united in spirit and jointly defended against enemies, even married couples or brothers would quarrel. A little conflict or friction was nothing unusual, but it was hard on minor underlings like him, who often ended up as meals for some Great Saint. After all, devouring them was a way to increase cultivation. Especially those half-baked spirits who could barely maintain human form—their lives were worth nothing.
The mountain path opened up. On his own turf, the rat spirit regained his courage. Just as he was about to roll up his sleeves and ascend the mountain, he noticed a familiar figure coming from a side path. Hunched and staggering like an old village farmer, the rat was overjoyed and ran over, shouting, "Greetings to the Old Ancestor!"
The old man had a coarse hemp rope tied around his waist, wore straw sandals, and had unremarkable features. His eyes were squinted into slits, as if his eyesight was failing and his ears were dim. He tilted his head and bellowed, "Who are you? What did you say?"
The rat spirit took the old man's arm. "It's me, from Copper Crown Mountain. We're relatives."
The old man said, "Oh," and didn't refuse the rat's attentive support. After a few steps, he suddenly stopped, sniffed, and opened his eyes wide, revealing sharp light—no sign of decay or senility. He looked around sharply and said, "Something's wrong, something's wrong. There's a human scent, definitely a human scent! Damn, he's stealthy. Hiding so deep, he almost fooled even me."
The rat's legs trembled, and he nearly collapsed.
So that young sword immortal everyone talked about had been hanging behind him the whole way?
The old man grunted, "He ran?"
He roared at the rat, "You useless piece of trash! You didn't even know you were being tailed! If you were a spy for those filthy things and ruined our mountain and river grand formation, you couldn't compensate even with a hundred lives!"
The rat's legs gave out, and he sat on the ground, face pale. But he didn't forget his business and reported what had happened at Copper Crown Mountain.
The old man's expression shifted uncertainly.
This half-dead old man was none other than one of the Six Saints, calling himself the Immortal Demon Catcher.
As a spirit himself, he wore a demon-capturing rope around his waist. Within that rope were two dragon whiskers from the thousand-year silver carp of Copper Green Lake. It could capture ordinary monsters and ghosts with ease. Once an enemy was bound, the rope would grind their flesh and crush their bones bit by bit. The old man said that meat had chewiness, and the blood that dripped drop by drop had the flavor of wine.
The old man suddenly took off the demon-capturing rope, threw it out, and it writhed like a snake, swimming around. A moment later, it flashed back into his hand. "He really ran."
The old man summoned clouds and fog, no longer strolling on foot, and quickly flew to the cave that the Mountain-Moving Ape had built.
Dozens of miles away, Chen Ping'an, wearing the appearance of a youth, moved swiftly through the forest.
It wasn't that he had retreated in the face of difficulty, but he had changed his mind temporarily.
Earlier, following the rat spirit to the Mountain-Moving Great Sage's mountain, he had seen a group of spirits from afar. They had a living person tied up—a thin, refined young man in a blue robe. His hands and feet were bound to a bamboo pole, carried by two underlings who hadn't fully transformed. They tottered along, and the poor scholar was shaken till he was barely breathing.
At the head of the spirits was one who looked human in appearance, dressed like a Confucian scholar, pretending to be elegant. He held a white-bone folding fan with a peach blossom painted on it, slowly fanning himself.
Next to him was an old man with a goat's beard, chatting away. They had come to receive him specially. This peach-fan gentleman was a trusted and capable subordinate of the Summer-Avoiding Lady, often abducting living people from Copper Stench City to improve the lady's diet.
The old man chuckled. "Sir Gentleman, scholars are really rare these days. The taste must be excellent. How did you catch him? Tell us about it?"
The fan-wielding spirit was quite proud. "Took a lot of effort. This fool was sightseeing around Copper Stench City, so I approached him and chatted about poetry and songs. We had a good time, and I tricked him into leaving Copper Stench City's territory. No trouble for our lady at all. Even if Copper Stench City finds out later, I'm not in the wrong."
The weak scholar said tremblingly, "I am a newly appointed Jinshi of Copper Stench City. You can't eat me! You absolutely can't! If the Summer-Avoiding Lady really wants to eat people, I can help. I'll help you trick more people back—mountain woodcutters, women who admire my talent... that's fine..."
The fan-wielding spirit sneered. "Can we really trust the words of a scholar? Look, you trusted me, and what happened?"
The scholar wept silently.
——
Not far from Green Furnace Town was the very peculiar Copper Stench City, where living people and ghosts coexisted in a mixed and chaotic yet peaceful manner. Compared to other cities in Ghost Valley, Copper Stench City was the most stable. There were few fierce ghosts or evil spirits around it, and strict rules prohibited fighting within the city.
This was related to its proximity to Green Furnace Town, or more precisely, to the Immortal Master Zhu Quan of Guo Pond.
Moreover, over twenty thousand living people had taken root there for generations. In the early years, a group of refugee cultivators whose sect had been destroyed fled there, paid a large sum of immortal money to Copper Stench City, and flourished. After hundreds of years, their many descendants settled both inside and outside the city. Later, scattered cultivators gathered in Copper Stench City, similar to the commoners near immortal mountains. They coexisted with the ghosts and monsters in the city, and both sides had grown accustomed to it.
However, the living people near Copper Stench City generally had short lifespans. Often reaching the age of fifty was considered advanced age and longevity. The secular women of Copper Stench City, even without any aptitude for cultivation, were born radiant and beautiful, like great beauties. But their beauty faded extremely quickly—often after the age of twenty-five, they showed signs of aging, which was a pity.
Every year, Copper Stench City selected a group of young girls around the age of twelve or thirteen, had them carefully trained by instructresses, and then sent them to other cities as concubines or maids in the mansions of powerful ghosts, as a means of currying favor.
The city lord's sister, whose fame was no less than his, had a game: on the first and fifteenth of each month, she would scatter money from the city walls. Occasionally, one or two Little Summer Coins would be mixed in.
Copper Stench City also had a Golden Throne Hall and a small court. The city lord had appointed over a hundred civil and military officials, with all six ministries complete—small but complete.
Every ten days, they held a court session with proper form.
There were also imperial examinations, though without provincial or metropolitan exams. Only the palace examination existed, since Copper Stench City was so small. Those who were literate were few and far between.
The city lord's sister had appointed herself to the official position of "Appointing Grand Councilor," personally responsible for setting examination questions and grading papers.
The fan-wielding spirit, who called himself "Gentleman," chatted with the goat-bearded old man about the lively events in the northern part of Ghost Valley.
He had gone on a long journey and heard some rumors at Copper Stench City. The content was exaggerated, but it was told with great detail.
He had originally planned to show off to the Summer-Avoiding Lady, but the mountain road was too long and dull, so he began to narrate: "It is said that there were two incredibly beautiful female cultivators from elsewhere. One was probably the Deer-Riding Goddess from Mural City. They boarded a ferry boat, reckless as could be, heading straight for Jingguan City. Their momentum was so strong that along the way, no city lord dared to stop them. Not until they neared Jingguan City did a city lord activate the city's heavy defense weapon. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—at least a hundred swords shot out."
The goat-bearded old man was shocked. "Good heavens! If it were us, we'd be riddled with holes by now."
"For someone like you? Do you know how much immortal money is consumed each time they use a volley of sword beds? That kind of treatment is only for our lady."
The fan-wielding spirit chuckled. "Anyway, back to the story. At the critical moment, an ugly flower protector who called himself Zhou Fei—true to his name, he was quite unsightly—but his skills were great. He cast a large net, said to be refined from several thousand Snow Flower Coins. In one go, he collected all those flying swords. They buzzed like a bag full of mosquitoes. The city side wasn't willing to give up, so another wave of flying swords came. What do you think happened?"
A lackey said carelessly, "They ran away, of course. What else?"
The fan-wielding spirit kicked him, sending him flying several yards. Then he continued, "That ugly man pulled out another net, identical, also built from immortal money. He said he had no other skill, but his ability to make money while lying down even frightened himself. Such a man—too bad he was ugly; otherwise, I'd want to piss on his head."
The crowd of demons was stunned.
They felt like they were hearing a celestial tale.
The goat-bearded old man asked softly, "What happened afterward? At Jingguan City, did the fighting get fiercer? It would be best if both sides fought to the death and destroyed each other!"
"Old goat, you're almost as ugly as that Zhou Fei, and yet you dream so beautifully. That's not good. You need to change."
After teasing, the fan-wielding spirit lamented, "Nothing much afterward. The vassal cities north of Jingguan City went on lockdown, and no news leaked to us in the south. That's all we have from Copper Stench City. Sigh. Those two young ladies are probably sheep in a tiger's mouth. No matter how powerful that ugly man's treasures are, can they surpass the cultivation of Jingguan City's lord?"
Chen Ping'an followed from a distance.
He was a bit puzzled. Why had Jiang Shangzhen returned to Northern Ju Lu Continent, and why would he team up with the Deer-Riding Goddess who had stepped out of the painting to storm Ghost Valley's Jingguan City?
Had the Deer-Riding Goddess, after being rebuffed at the Swaying River ferry, turned to Jiang Shangzhen as her master?
And who was the other female cultivator traveling with them?
Regardless, he couldn't do anything about it. If it really was Jiang Shangzhen's doing, tangling with Jingguan City was a true battle of immortals.
First, he would deal with this Summer-Avoiding Lady.
——
At the deep ravine halfway up Precious Mirror Mountain, Yang Chongxuan sat by the water's edge, bored, rubbing his cheeks. He had been waiting here for years, waiting for a fortune, and it was truly tedious.
Once he got his hands on the opportunity, he had to go north and fight a few good battles on that Anvil Mountain.
For years, he had stayed out of sight, and the prestige of his other alias had been overshadowed by many rising stars.
Yang Chongxuan scratched his head. In previous years, he had gotten used to being bald, but now he found it hard to adapt.
Was that prophecy even accurate? Although staying here also counted as cultivation—soaking in the water from time to time tempered the soul—it was still far inferior to tempering his body with volcanic magma in the old days. Besides, his nature had never liked being restrained. If the family hadn't given him a strict order, and his mother hadn't started invoking filial piety to pressure him, he really wouldn't have wanted to make this trip. Wouldn't it have been better to let his steady, high-realm, famous younger brother handle it? Besides, even if he obtained the Three-Mountain Mirror himself, the family would eventually give it to his brother to refine into a natal object.
He wasn't resentful of that or jealous of his younger brother's better fortune. It was just that staying on this Precious Mirror Mountain, where even birds wouldn't shit, was too boring. That was one reason the old fox of West Mountain could stay so lively—she was entertainment, a way to ease the boredom.
Yang Chongxuan grabbed casually, easily picking up a handful of stones from the white cliff. He clenched his fist, crushing them into pebbles, then lightly tossed them into the water.
He and his famous younger brother didn't see eye to eye, but they were far from being mortal enemies.
As the elder brother, he couldn't stand his younger brother being so solemn and bookish since childhood. The younger brother, in turn, had never liked his elder brother's constant troublemaking.
If their positions were swapped, there might be much less trouble.
Damn it, if he had known, back when he accidentally came out of the womb first, he would have crawled back in if he could.
Yang Chongxuan sighed mournfully, looked up to the north, and loudly complained, "My dear mother, when will this bitter life end?"
On the opposite bank, a robust young man ran out of the woods, bustling with energy, carrying a pile of wild fruit picked from other mountains. He shouted, "Brother Yang, are you missing your mother too?"
Yang Chongxuan propped his chin on his hand, too lazy to speak. Every day, his heart was so tired.
The man jumped over the deep ravine, landed beside Yang Chongxuan, and handed him a wild fruit. "Brother Yang, this thing is crunchy, really tasty."
Yang Chongxuan took the fruit, shaped like a white pear, and bit into it, mumbling, "Wei Gaowu, does your sister have a secret sweetheart?"
It turned out that this sturdy man, trying to curry favor with fruit, was the youngest son of the old fox of West Mountain. He was the brother of the umbrella-toting fox spirit Wei Taizhen. Wei Gaowu—both names, of course, were not their real names.
Wei Gaowu shook his head. "Of course not. My sister's standards are high. Look, she didn't even fancy you, Brother Yang. I reckon she's destined to be an old maid."
Yang Chongxuan stopped pressing.
This big, seemingly foolish simpleton was habitually bullied by the mountain spirits around Precious Mirror Mountain. Even a ghost underling who carried a flag on patrol could order him around. If he weren't so ugly, he'd probably have his ass washed every day.
But Wei Gaowu wasn't stupid.
He might even be the smartest of the three in his family.
Smart enough to guess that his sister's final fate might not be good.
He had done everything he could. He hadn't done anything he shouldn't.
Yet he still couldn't change his sister's outcome.
Yang Chongxuan was curious: when that day came, would Wei Gaowu still be able to play dumb? Would he fight to the death? Or would he swallow his pride, scrape by in Ghost Valley, struggle, and hope to take revenge one day?
This was also Yang Chongxuan's way of passing the time—thinking about these trivial matters of his own and the great tragedies of others. It was quite interesting.
Yang Chongxuan took another wild fruit, wiped it with his tattered sleeve, and asked casually, "What does Pink Boy City say?"
Wei Gaowu grinned. "Last time after the city lord chatted with Brother Yang, I met him at the ruined temple. He praised me for being lucky to know a hero like you. He even invited me to visit Pink Boy City."
Yang Chongxuan smiled. "That shows Pink Boy City's lord is easy to get along with."
Wei Gaowu grinned again. "I know. It's all because of Brother Yang's influence. Otherwise, if the city lord accidentally glanced at me, he'd think it dirtied his eyes."
Yang Chongxuan asked, "Any interesting news from other places lately?"
Wei Gaowu was just a messenger for gathering information. This fox spirit seemed more timid than the eye of a needle, probably never having lost his temper or been angry in his life. But he wasn't as timid as he seemed—nearby mountains, Pink Boy City, even Orchid Musk Town, he dared to go. But of course, Wei Gaowu only interacted with the lowest-level ghosts, spirits, and wild cultivators in Ghost Valley. Yang Chongxuan could easily imagine Wei Gaowu's humble demeanor—hunched, smiling foolishly to everyone.
Wei Gaowu nodded. "Yes. I just went to Orchid Musk Town. I heard that at Anvil Mountain, a big fight happened recently. That Liu Jinglong, who you find particularly annoying, fought with a very handsome traveling Daoist nun. They tore up Anvil Mountain."
Yang Chongxuan asked, "Liu Jinglong was willing to fight? And in a place like Anvil Mountain, so public? How many moves did Liu Jinglong use to kill her?"
Wei Gaowu said softly, "Both sides were badly injured, both on the verge of death, lying in a pool of blood for a long time without getting up. In the end, Liu Jinglong barely won, because he stood up first. The Daoist nun was a little slower."
Yang Chongxuan frowned.
That Liu Jinglong had even more fame than his younger brother.
In Northern Ju Lu Continent, where everyone wanted to be number one, both on and off the mountain, rankings were the most popular. That was also why the fights were even more brutal.
Aside from the top ten mountain experts including Daoist Heavenly Lord Xie Shi, there were also ten young talents, including Liu Jinglong. Yang Chongxuan's younger brother was ranked ninth.
Liu Jinglong was third.
This man was hailed as the land dragon of Northern Ju Lu Continent, a sure bet to be among the top ten of the continent in the future.
Yang Chongxuan disliked him because, in a private spar when they were young, he couldn't break one of his simple formations no matter what.
And Liu Jinglong was a sword cultivator, not a formation master.
What was even more irritating than his younger brother was that Liu Jinglong loved to argue reason—not those lofty, ethereal metaphysical theories, but the simplest, most grounded truths. That made Yang Chongxuan even more inwardly wounded.
Yang Chongxuan laughed. "After this battle, the Qionglin Sect must have made a lot of money."
Wei Gaowu asked curiously, "Brother Yang, what kind of sect is the Qionglin Sect?"
Yang Chongxuan said, "That Copper Stench City in your Ghost Valley? They're good at making money, right? If they saw the Qionglin Sect, they'd have to kneel and kowtow, acknowledging them as ancestors."
Wei Gaowu looked dazed, then obediently held the wild fruits, squatting beside Yang Chongxuan, staring into the distance.
Yang Chongxuan said, "There are mountains beyond mountains, skies beyond skies. But if your fists aren't strong enough, wherever you go, you'll just be Wei Gaowu of Ghost Valley. Taller than others, with 'tall' in your name, but nothing else is tall. There's nothing to look forward to out there. You might as well muddle along in Ghost Valley."
Wei Gaowu said softly, "Brother Yang."
Yang Chongxuan patted the big guy's shoulder. "Get lost."
Wei Gaowu gave a heavy sigh, gently set the fruits aside, jumped over the ravine, and left. At the edge of the dense forest on the opposite bank, the big simpleton turned to wave goodbye.
Yang Chongxuan stretched out his palm, lightly opened his mouth, and spit out a tiny, grain-sized crimson liquid. He smiled and shook his head. Not smart enough.
He didn't even know if he was a Qi cultivator or a pure martial artist, and he dared to play tricks like this?
But Wei Gaowu would never guess the truth, not even if he had two chances.
Was he a Qi cultivator?
Was he a pure martial artist?
Because Yang Chongxuan was both, and both at very high levels.
This was thanks to that battle with Liu Jinglong back then. At the time, they were the same age and half-friends.
That fight might not have mattered to Liu Jinglong, but it had changed Yang Chongxuan, who had a careless temperament.
Yang Chongxuan was an alias.
So was "Yang Jinshan," the wandering swordsman.
But no one probably cared about the name Yang Chongxuan. In the mountains of Northern Ju Lu Continent, the wanderer Yang Jinshan and his nickname Yang The Butcher were far more famous and well-known across the continent than his real name.
He was the same as his younger brother, both born with natural Dao seeds. His younger brother had a natural affinity for water, while he had a natural affinity for mountains.
So the family had sent him to Precious Mirror Mountain.
Damn it, even a shitty reason like that could be fabricated?
What about this bottomless water ravine in front of him?
Yang Chongxuan clapped his hands and lay back. Apart from the shitty reasons, there was also a mysterious claim.
His water-affiliated younger brother might encounter a life-and-death Dao struggle at Precious Mirror Mountain, which would be very dangerous.
Yang Chongxuan was baffled. In this Ghost Valley, unless the lord of Jingguan City and that old skeleton Pu went mad, what danger could his younger brother face? His brother wasn't a pushover. Slippery as an eel, adept at protecting himself and running away—ordinary Nascent Soul cultivators couldn't catch him.
Zhu Quan of the Hemp-Clad Sect wasn't stupid. She would probably help protect him to some extent. The two reclusive masters of Little Xuan Capital Temple and Great Round Moon Temple weren't troublemakers either. Especially the one from Little Xuan Capital Temple—they might even take a liking to his younger brother, becoming another minor beneficial connection.
Together with that prophecy and all these mystical claims, he found it boring.
Suddenly, Yang Chongxuan thought of that young wanderer with the bamboo hat.
He could tell they were actually the same kind of person.
But at the time, Yang Chongxuan had no intention of competing.
The opportunity was coming.
It was better to avoid trouble—this old saying was worth heeding.
Could it be this man?
Yang Chongxuan began to ponder, forming hand seals, silently deducing, trying to calculate something. Although he did it perfunctorily, he was still better than ordinary experts, thanks to his family background.
But after a moment, Yang Chongxuan lay back and closed his eyes to sleep. "None of my business. I sleep even when the sun is high, not caring about the myriad worries of the world."
Yang Chongxuan murmured, "I still envy that Fire Dragon True Person—awake, he cultivates; asleep, he cultivates. I wonder if there's a similar immortal technique in the world. If there is, I must steal and learn it."
A mellow voice sounded beside Yang Chongxuan. "There are, naturally. One is in Flowing Cloud Continent. He can comprehend the Dao in his sleep, so his cultivation path is twice as effective. Now he has come to Northern Ju Lu Continent. If this poor Daoist hasn't miscalculated, he is the one who obtained the Gazing Inkstone Goddess painting from Mural City."
"As for the other, his cause and effect are somewhat related to an ancestor of this old Daoist's lineage. I know he hails from the Pearl Bead Cave Heaven of Bottle Gourd Continent. But now he is in Southern Whisk Continent, practicing swordsmanship in daylight dreams. If he doesn't die prematurely, his Dao path is promising. However, there will inevitably be a Dao struggle between these two sooner or later."
Yang Chongxuan didn't open his eyes. He smiled and said, "So it's the Temple Master himself who has come. What, are you here to compete with a junior for the opportunity? That's not right, is it? It's just a bright mirror that illuminates the true forms of monsters. Is it worthy of the old Temple Master's attention?"
An old Daoist sat cross-legged near Yang Chongxuan. Without using any spiritual energy, just a thought, the mist over the deep ravine coalesced into a cattail mat.
It was the old Temple Master of Little Xuan Capital Temple.
The old Daoist didn't answer Yang Chongxuan's somewhat impolite question. He just gazed at the deep ravine and sighed. "Looking at this water again, I still feel the infinite wonder of creation, so incredible."
Yang Chongxuan sat up and sighed. "I never thought I'd have to rely on my family background one day to be slightly at ease."
The old Daoist laughed. "Your parents' abilities are your skill at reincarnation. That's nothing to be ashamed of. Why worry so much, little friend?"
Yang Chongxuan grinned. "Temple Master, let's agree beforehand. I just ask that you don't contend with me for this Precious Mirror opportunity. As for teaching the Dao or forming a good connection—my younger brother might welcome it, but as for me, don't bother. I won't accept it."
The old Daoist laughed heartily. "I think you're even more interesting than your younger brother."
Yang Chongxuan put his hands behind his head. "I'll take that as a compliment."
The largest dynasty in central Northern Ju Lu Continent had established an office called the Supreme Mystery Bureau, which managed the teachings of many views in the capital, the accounts of Daoists, and ceremonies. It also handled temple registers and all monks.
The head of the Supreme Mystery Bureau was surnamed Yang. He was both a national preceptor and the owner of the Cloud Sky Palace. His ancestors had produced three upper-five-realm cultivators, but all had passed away via martial liberation.
Cloud Sky Palace was a Daoist temple from a descendant forest, similar to the Heavenly Master's Mansion of Dragon-Tiger Mountain.
The power and depth of heritage were unimaginable.
Among the younger generation, two young talents were twin brothers. Since childhood, they were both hailed as natural Dao seeds.
One was chosen by Heavenly Lord Xie Shi. Since Xie Shi couldn't take on apprentices, the young man couldn't formally become his disciple, but Xie Shi still taught him Dao techniques. The other, though the elder brother, loved wandering the world since youth, appearing and disappearing unpredictably. It was said he had double pupils, a rare omen that gave him an advantage over his younger brother. He should have been the legitimate future head of the family, but his temperament was too lax. The family tried to persuade him to no avail and finally let him go his own way.
As time passed, the former vaguely became the inevitable next robed minister of the Supreme Mystery Bureau. The latter was overshadowed by his younger brother's immense reputation, becoming increasingly obscure.
The old Daoist looked up into the distance, probably toward the entrance archway of Ghost Valley, then shifted his gaze toward Orchid Musk Town. He smiled slightly. "The reason I've come is to tell you that the opportunity is here."
Yang Chongxuan remained unmoved. "Why would the Temple Master come to tell me this?"
The old Daoist's expression turned serious. Slowly, he said, "This old Daoist performed a divination earlier. The hexagram showed that killing brings great fortune. But fortune and misfortune rely on each other, and it made me somewhat unsettled. A flaw appeared between my original heart and my Dao path. In the end, I let someone else make the choice. Now, I feel both relieved—since I've guarded my original heart—and lost, as if I've brushed past an opportunity."
Yang Chongxuan sneered. "You mean to say, Temple Master, you want to kill someone by proxy? Stay clean yourself and let me be the vanguard, the sucker? If even the Temple Master hesitates to kill someone, even if I can do it, the cost—with my thin arms and slender legs—can I bear it?"
The old Daoist shook his head. "You are a natural Dao seed not among the three lineages of the Azure Firmament. How rare you are! That's why I left Little Xuan Capital Temple to tell you this."
The old Daoist stood up. "Take care of yourself."
Yang Chongxuan suddenly asked, "I have a question. I hope the Temple Master can resolve my doubt."
The old Daoist nodded. "Speak freely."
Yang Chongxuan asked, "Those who most need to understand reason are exactly those who listen to it the least. Those willing to listen to reason don't really need it. What to do?"
The old Daoist laughed. "That's a question for the Confucian scholars to ponder endlessly. As for you, even thinking about it one more time is a burden. Why trouble yourself? The world is full of mediocrities who trouble themselves needlessly, and they enjoy it. Why would you wake them from their beautiful dreams? If you call them noisy, that's already good-tempered of them. Narrow-minded ones would regard you as an enemy. In that case, who is foolish—them or us?"
Yang Chongxuan gave a silent laugh, stood up, and very solemnly shook his sleeves. For the first time, he made a proper Daoist bow. "Thank you, Temple Master, for resolving my doubt."
Then Yang Chongxuan blurted out a heartfelt remark: "The practice of the Great Dao is only the pursuit of truth."
The old Daoist showed a look of admiration, nodded lightly, and vanished in a flash.
After coming to his senses, Yang Chongxuan spread his hands and clenched his fists. "The strong make the way, hacking through thorns and brambles. The weak blindly follow and go with the flow."
He rubbed his chin with his palm. After a moment, he held back a laugh, struggling slightly.
That question—when did he ever care about it? It was Liu Jinglong's most difficult knot in recent years.
But the answer from the old Daoist of Little Xuan Capital Temple was unexpected, indeed worthy of his bow.
——
Returning to the peach grove, the old Daoist didn't rush back into the temple.
He walked under the peach trees, always looking up at the sky.
No matter why that young wanderer had declined to enter the temple for tea, it wasn't over yet.
That was why the old Daoist had asked his old friend the monk whether he needed to keep that cup of thousand-year peach syrup tea.
In fact, for such a matter, Little Xuan Capital Temple didn't need a decision from an outsider like the monk.
And the monk had only said four words: "Brevity is the soul of wit."
This made the old Daoist realize something and immediately become alert.
After making his final decision, the old Daoist returned to his flawless, water-calm state of mind. But the more he deduced, the more something felt off. With his current cultivation, even if the lord of Jingguan City in Ghost Valley came for a life-and-death battle, it wouldn't disturb his Dao heart in the slightest. So the old Daoist employed his unique life-bound divine ability—the most unique in the world, he dared say—and spent a great deal of true qi, destroying sixty years of cultivation, to execute the ancient spirit's technique of looking up and down to observe heaven and earth. At last, he found some clues.
One line connected two ends: one end was He Xiaoliang in Jingguan City, the other was that young man.
That was already strange enough, but what was even more horrifying was another line. With He Xiaoliang as the starting point, the line left Skeleton Beach and Ghost Valley, went straight to the firmament of Northern Ju Lu Continent, as if connected to someone in another world!
Even the old Daoist, who already had a flawless body, broke out in a cold sweat after retracting his divine ability.
He raged inwardly.
Who was He Xiaoliang's master? How could a female cultivator from Bottle Gourd Continent rise so quickly in Northern Ju Lu Continent and successfully establish her own sect with the full support of Heavenly Lord Xie Shi? Those truly at the mountain peaks in Northern Ju Lu Continent knew it well!
The old Daoist looked up angrily, wanting nothing more than to immediately go to that other world, to White Jade Capital, and demand an explanation from that Sect Leader.
If he killed according to the hexagram, the blessing might not be false.
But did Lu Chen take me for a puppet on strings? A dog begging at someone else's door?!
——
Azure Firmament World.
White Jade Capital.
A young Daoist sat lazily on a white jade railing. Beneath his feet were layers of clouds at different heights, all formed by vast spiritual energy coalescing into seas. He smiled and said, "Big and Little Xuan Capital Temple—both have good methods."
Earlier, he had been tilting his head with two fingers twirling an invisible string, listening intently. The sound was intermittent and faint, not clear.
This string was something he himself was reluctant to touch.
Now he sat up straight, flicked his finger, and casually snapped the string.
It was just a small trick of following the vine to find the melon. It really wasn't his intent to do harm. Whether that kid was alive or dead, blessed or cursed—he wouldn't wade into those muddy waters anymore. It was that He Xiaoliang who had done something on her own, and not very cleanly. She was sloppy, and didn't even realize the consequences. That little ox-nose of Little Xuan Capital Temple was really wronged on his behalf. He Lu Chen would chalk up this debt to Xuan Capital Temple in his own world. Later, he would go there and throw a tantrum. If he didn't get justice in one day, he'd curse them for a day.
Lu Chen rubbed his chin and muttered to himself, "But this little disciple of mine really has great blessings. Before I even made a real move, she almost killed that kid without meaning to."
A youth, whose Daoist robe and crown didn't belong to the three original lineages of the Dao Ancestor, came to Lu Chen's side and asked, "Third Senior Brother, any fresh news?"
Lu Chen turned around and ruffled the youth's hair. "Little Junior Brother, you need to work hard. Don't let this little senior brother lose to that surname Qi again. This little senior brother holds a grudge the most, understand?"
The youth's smile stiffened. Seeing Lu Chen's playful expression, he immediately turned and ran.
But in this world, in this White Jade Capital, where could the youth run?
Sure enough, it was as if a hand grabbed the back of his collar and threw him straight out of White Jade Capital into the sea of clouds. Not only that, but that little senior brother had sealed all his spiritual energy.
Several immortals immediately flew out from all corners of White Jade Capital, trying to catch this newly appointed, honored little master.
Lu Chen slapped each one away, sending the immortals flying.
The youth fell rapidly.
A Flying Ascension realm cultivator, temporarily serving as the youth's guardian, gritted his teeth and steeled himself to fly and save him. Could he really watch the youth fall to the ground?
Relying solely on the physical body, even a Jade Pupil realm cultivator would turn into a pool of flesh.
Those clouds were no ordinary things.
The Dao Ancestor Lord could naturally revive this closed-door disciple, and Lu Sect Leader could too, but wouldn't he, the guardian, become a laughingstock of the entire world?
Lu Chen glanced coldly at that Flying Ascension cultivator.
The latter's Dao heart immediately wavered, and he quickly stood still, steadying his mind.
Just as the youth was about to hit the ground, two large holes simultaneously tore open in the firmament, roaring with momentum, startling the world.
Then two beams of rainbow light shot toward White Jade Capital.
Although the two holes quickly repaired themselves.
In that instant, several shadows swiftly slipped into the Azure Firmament World, deliberately avoiding White Jade Capital, trying to hide.
Lu Chen's expression was blank. He pointed a few times.
In the directions where the shadows were frantically fleeing, golden-armored gods thousands of feet tall appeared out of thin air, smashing the shadows to pieces.
Lu Chen leaped lightly and in an instant was at the foot of White Jade Capital.
The youth hovered in the air a foot from the ground, his limbs stiff, his mind blank.
Lu Chen crouched down and said slowly, "The guardian is an external thing. The identity of the Dao Ancestor's disciple is an external thing. Even your own life and death are external things."
The youth, sweat beading on his forehead, nodded.
Lu Chen pressed down on the youth's head lightly. In an instant, the living Dao Ancestor's closed-door disciple turned into a pool of flesh and blood.
Lu Chen smiled. "If you don't truly die once, how can you truly... know the Dao?"
A tall, middle-aged Daoist appeared beside Lu Chen. With a wave of his sleeve, he collected all of the youth's soul into it, then frowned. "Is this how you treat your junior brother?"
Lu Chen laughed. "Better than you were in your day, at least."
The tall Daoist shook his head, stomped his foot, and shot up into the air, heading to the highest point of White Jade Capital.
Suddenly, someone wrapped an arm around Lu Chen's neck. The disheveled fellow was probably shorter; he had to stand on tiptoe slightly. He was completely familiar with Lu Sect Leader, grinning as he asked, "How was that punch of mine? Sharp angle, wasn't it? Dao Number Two's balls must still hurt."
Lu Chen nodded. "Your style is still the same."
The man tightened his arm, making Lu Chen lean back slightly. The man squinted. "Let's settle an old score, shall we?"
Lu Chen smiled. "Beyond the heavens, I'm not going. If we fight here, you have no sword, so you can't hurt me. Besides, right now, how many fairies in White Jade Capital are watching us?"
The man finally released his arm. Lu Chen patted his sleeves, a bit helpless.
The man faced the heights of White Jade Capital, squinting to see. Suddenly, he lowered his head, spat a mouthful of saliva into his palm, rubbed his hands together, then raised them high. He smoothed his hair back from front to back with great effort.
He felt that if he had a mirror right now, it would probably shatter on the spot.
He coughed a few times, cleared his throat, and was about to speak.
Lu Chen said helplessly, "No need to introduce yourself. Every corner of White Jade Capital knows your name is A Liang."
The man still introduced himself to the fairies of White Jade Capital with a straight face: "The 'good' as in kindhearted."
Lu Chen chuckled and asked, "Since you insist you're a swordsman, where's your sword?"
The man countered, "Does a swordsman have to have a sword?"
He answered his own question: "I think not."
Lu Chen nodded. "Where there's chivalrous spirit in heaven and earth, there's a satisfying draw of the sword. I know what you're thinking. If it works, it'll be spectacular."
The man, short and not exactly handsome in appearance, also stomped his foot and shot into the sky. But he didn't go to White Jade Capital to find Dao Number Two. Instead, he punched open the firmament and returned to beyond the heavens.
Lu Chen stood with his hands behind his back, looking up, unwilling to look away for a long time.
There were always some people, whether friend or foe, who could elicit admiration from others.
In this regard, this A Liang had actually done better than both him and Qi Jingchun.
Suddenly, Lu Chen remembered something and smiled knowingly.
Perhaps the wife of Green God Mountain in the Bamboo Sea Cave Heaven might not think so.
———
The Summer-Avoiding Lady's cave dwelling was built on a mountain called Peel-Off Mountain. The mountain wasn't tall, and the geomantic omens weren't particularly good.
She was the weakest of the Six Saints. Yet no one knew why Peel-Off Mountain had always stood firm in Ghost Valley.
In contrast, the Mountain-Moving Great Sage had strong soldiers and stout horses under his command, and his cultivation was far superior.
The Mountain-Moving Great Sage was a Mountain-Moving Ape of impure bloodline. Though only five hundred years old, with his naturally tough physique, he loved close combat with ghosts or Qi cultivators. He had also purchased a high-grade Amor Armor for protection and wielded a pair of meteor hammers with great killing power—like wings added to a tiger.
Peel-Off Mountain's security was lax and sparse. Scattered spirits gathered in groups, preoccupied with gambling, utterly focused.
However, Peel-Off Mountain had three extremely clever mountain-and-river prohibition formations in sequence. While not a full mountain-guarding array, they were easy to trigger for an outsider sneaking in, alarming the entire mountain.
The dwelling displayed a plaque reading "Cold Moon Hall." It was built lavishly, far from cold—very festive and wealthy, clearly costing a lot of immortal money. Moreover, many osmanthus trees were planted inside and out, but none were rare or exotic species.
In the backyard, a woman with a graceful figure but a pitted face stood on the steps. She wore an elegant palace robe. When she saw the scholar hanging on the bamboo pole, her eyes lit up, her cheeks bulging and deflating. She wiped the drool from her mouth, laughing so much that her whole body shook. Before the fan-wielding spirit could even speak a word of praise, she drove him and all the other annoying underlings away.
The bamboo pole was placed on the ground. The scholar lay in an awkward position, his wrists bruised from the bindings. He spoke with difficulty, his voice trembling. "Summer-Avoiding Lady?"
The woman crouched down and reached out to stroke the weak scholar's face. Her eyes were hazy. "It's been so long since I've seen such a handsome man. How wonderful. Little brother, relax. I'm a woman who knows how to care. Don't listen to wild rumors outside—things like how the Summer-Avoiding Lady likes stir-frying and doesn't like steaming. Nonsense. My method of eating people is the most exquisite. Men love it to death. My Peel-Off Mountain is no dragon's pool or tiger's den. It's truly a blessed land of pleasure for you men."
As she spoke, the woman became overwhelmed with emotion, sticking out an extremely long and wide, peculiar tongue. Drool dripped from the corner of her mouth onto the scholar's face.
The scholar was speechless with tears.
He seemed scared stupid, just staring at her blankly.
The Summer-Avoiding Lady said seductively, "What are you looking at? Don't be so impatient. Once I untie you, we'll go to the lovebird bed together. I'll let you see everything."
The scholar said slowly, "This toad of yours didn't boast falsely. You really are from the Moon Palace seed. It was worth the trip."
The woman froze.
In an instant, black smoke billowed, and baleful energy surged to the heavens, enveloping the Summer-Avoiding Lady. A series of urgent, miserable screams came from within, then quickly fell silent. Only a large pool of blood blossomed on the ground like a flower.
A moment later, the scholar was crouching, while the Summer-Avoiding Lady lay on the ground, reduced to a pile of bones.
The scholar's mouth was full of blood. He didn't wipe it, just burped. He reached out and dipped his finger in some blood, then turned to look at the top of the wall. He smiled and asked, "Seen enough of the show?"
Even Chen Ping'an was greatly surprised.
It wasn't rare for spirits and ghosts to harm people, nor for fox spirits to seduce scholars.
But a "scholar" eating a demon—that was a first for Chen Ping'an.
Chen Ping'an crouched on the wall. He had already rehung the Sword-Nurturing Gourd at his waist. He asked, "This Summer-Avoiding Lady is mediocre in cultivation. She obviously has a powerful backer, and it's not one of the other great demons. Aren't you afraid at all?"
The scholar smiled. "Isn't it convenient that you're here to be the scapegoat?"
Chen Ping'an also smiled. "Can't we stick to a bit of Jianghu code of honor?"
The First-Fifteen in the Sword-Nurturing Gourd flashed out like lightning. Instead of engaging the scholar, they dove straight into the ground.
Once bitten, twice shy. Fan Yunluo's chariot burrowing into the ground had left a deep impression on Chen Ping'an.
Both sides fell silent.
The scholar was likely wary of whether the young sword immortal's sword would be faster than his unique escape art.
Chen Ping'an, for his part, was afraid the scholar would flee too fast and disappear, making it impossible to settle the score.
As for being framed by this fellow, it didn't really matter. Whatever troubles came, he would face them. This was a training trip after all. Too much ease wouldn't suit him. If it became too much, he could use the golden-material ground-contracting talisman combined with the sword immortal to temporarily escape Ghost Valley. After figuring out the opponent's general situation, he could re-enter Ghost Valley, using the clumsy method of a dull knife cutting meat—slowly grinding. It depended on who had better patience. If he couldn't win, he'd run; if he ran, he'd come again.
Chen Ping'an and the scholar spoke almost simultaneously, then stopped at the same time.
The scholar wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. "You go first. Sword immortals, I respect them the most."
Chen Ping'an said, "You go first. You scholars are more precious."
The scholar looked astonished. "Are we just going to keep at a standoff like this?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "Whatever makes you happy."
The scholar watched as the other guy took out a long sword, sat down on the ground, and flicked his sleeves, gathering all the blood into a spherical orb that orbited slowly around him. Then he asked tentatively, "Since you talk about Jianghu code, how about I talk about making money peacefully?"
Chen Ping'an asked, "How do we make money?"
The scholar pointed beyond the high wall, speaking righteously, "Aren't there still five demon beasts? Unlike this poor Summer-Avoiding Lady, the others are every one of them wealthy. Brothers united can cut through metal. Let's go eradicate the evils together!"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "Alright."
The scholar suddenly burst into curses. "Alright my ass! Your murderous intent is well hidden, but your sword almost has a mouth, shouting to kill me!"
Chen Ping'an squinted.
The scholar slowly stood up, his expression indifferent.
This was his first encounter with this young wanderer, whose deeds had already spread throughout southern Ghost Valley.
So he wouldn't know that at this moment, Chen Ping'an would be unfamiliar to everyone who knew him, friend or foe.
But the scholar knew one thing.
This guy had an extremely heavy killing intent.
It outweighed even the sword qi of his sword!
The scholar thought it was fine. It was better to let loose and fight.
Killing people and seizing treasures—fortune favors the bold. He had never lost with his gambling luck in this life!
Chen Ping'an took a deep breath, shook his head, then raised his hand and patted his chest. With a brilliant smile, he said, "Sorry, I have a thing about seeing blood. It makes me dizzy."