Chapter 512: To Draw the Sword or Not
Ding Tong held onto the railing with both hands, having no idea why he was even sitting here. He asked dully, "Am I going to die?"
The white-clad scholar took out a folding fan, stretched out his arm, and tapped it against the railing all the way along.
Ding Tong turned his head and looked over. On the observation deck on the second floor of the ferry, there were Wei Bai of the Iron Fortress Manor, Fairy Qingqing of the Spring Dew Pavilion, and that ugly, fearsome old woman—all those registered immortal masters who usually didn't mind his martial artist status and were willing to drink freely with him—every one of them wore cold expressions.
Down on the first floor, some people were watching the commotion, and a few secretly smiled at him. One person even gave him a thumbs-up.
Ding Tong turned back, despairing, then numbly lowered his head to gaze at the sea of clouds beneath his feet.
The white-clad scholar raised a hand, and a golden sword light shot out from the window, then soared straight into the sky.
He laughed, "Do you know why, even though you're a useless waste and the root cause of all this, I never made a move against you? And why that old man in the Golden Body realm, who could have just stood by and done nothing, I killed instead?"
Ding Tong shook his head, his voice hoarse. "I don't quite understand."
After drawing his sword and controlling it, the white-clad scholar remained still, tilting his head to look into the distance. "The evil casually done by a Seventh Realm martial artist and the evil done with all his might by a Fifth Realm martial artist—the impact on this world is as different as heaven and earth. The smaller the territory, the more you seem like an old god wielding the power of life and death in the eyes of the weak. Besides, that paper-thin Golden Body cultivator—let's say there was no grudge, and he didn't kill anyone. His first punch already killed the 'outsider' in his mind. I could accept that, so I sincerely let him have the second and third punches. Then he started seeking his own death. As for you, you should thank that young man who called me 'Sword Immortal.' He stopped you from jumping off the observation deck and came down to spar with me in boxing. Otherwise, the one who died wouldn't have been the old man shielding you from disaster—it would have been you. To be fair, you don't deserve death. Besides, that Gao Cheng left a little suspense on purpose, trying to disgust me. It doesn't matter. I'll just take it that you're like me back then—someone cast a spell on your heart, pulling your temperament along, making you do things that are 'courting death.'"
"Reason isn't something only the weak can use to complain and cry out for justice. It's not something you have to kneel and kowtow to be allowed to speak."
Ding Tong's mind was a complete blank. He didn't absorb much of what was said. He was just thinking: should he wait for that sword to fall and then die, or should he at least muster some heroic spirit, jump off the ferry, and become an Eighth Realm martial artist flying through the wind?
The white-clad scholar said no more.
You people are just like those mounted warriors who go to the mountains to die, incidentally trampling to death a few pedestrians who just happened to be in your way. On the road of life, there are wilderness and desolate hills everywhere, perfect places to commit evil.
In the countryside, in the marketplace, in the martial world, in officialdom, on the mountains.
Countless such people exist.
Parents and teachers are like this, they themselves are like this, and their descendants will be like this too.
There's no stopping them.
Back at the Goldbell Temple in the Huaihuang Kingdom, why was that little girl so sad and disappointed?
Because at that time, the white-clad scholar Chen Ping'an, if you set aside his true identity and cultivation level, only looked at the words and actions he revealed on that path—they were exactly the same as those people going to die in the mountains.
What hurt her most wasn't the pedantic nature of that frail scholar, but his words: "If I get knocked out and someone steals my book box, will you pay for it?" That kind of talk and mentality were what truly saddened that little girl. She gave the world and others goodwill, but that person not only didn't appreciate it—he gave back malice. But the good thing about that little girl at Goldbell Temple was that even though she was so hurt, she still genuinely worried about the safety of that foolish and evil person. And what Chen Ping'an could do now was only tell himself, "Doing good or doing evil is my own business." So Chen Ping'an felt she was far better than him and should be called a good person.
The white-clad scholar was silent, both waiting for that group of Hemp-clad Sect cultivators to return and also listening to his own heart.
Gao Cheng's heart-examination trap wasn't too clever.
The open scheme, however, was somewhat impressive.
The white-clad scholar pressed the folded fan against his chest and muttered to himself, "This time I was caught off guard. What does it have to do with the Hemp-clad Sect? Even I know that venting my anger on the Hemp-clad Sect like this isn't true to my nature. So what? I'm supposed to allow some ants to use tricks I can see through, but if Gao Cheng slightly exceeds my control, I can't stand a little frustration? For a cultivator like you, practicing the Dao and cultivating the mind like this, I think you're not much better. Just obediently be your swordsman. Forget about being a Sword Immortal."
Zhu Quan told him through the ripples of her heart lake to meet in the depths of the cloud sea and use the divine ability of Dividing Heaven and Earth once more. Otherwise, the mortals on the ferry would truly have their essence drained. She said to get off the ferry and fly straight south for ten miles by sword.
Chen Ping'an stood up and took a step. A golden sword light descended from the sky and stopped precisely at his feet. Man and sword vanished in an instant.
In the cloud sea, besides Zhu Quan and the two Hemp-clad Sect ancestors, there was also an unfamiliar old Daoist wearing a Daoist robe of a style never seen before, clearly not among the three main lineages, nor a Daoist from the Heavenly Master Mansion of Dragon Tiger Mountain. As Chen Ping'an hovered on his sword, a middle-aged Daoist broke through the cloud sea, walking over from afar with large strides, shrinking the earth—a few miles of cloud sea were covered in just two steps.
The middle-aged Daoist said in a deep voice, "The formation is complete. As long as Gao Cheng dares to use the divine ability of Grasping and Viewing Mountains and Rivers to spy on us, he'll suffer a bit of a setback."
Zhu Quan looked a bit embarrassed but still said, "It's my fault that I couldn't find any traces left by Gao Cheng on that martial artist."
The old Daoist hesitated for a moment. When he saw the ancestor of the Hemp-clad Sect's Ancestral Hall, who was in charge of the sect's law, shake his head, the old Daoist didn't speak.
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "It's my own loss to Gao Cheng, being tricked by him. I can't blame anyone else."
Zhu Quan still held the little girl in black in her arms, who was now fast asleep.
Zhu Quan, as always, didn't hide anything and spoke plainly. "After we left earlier, we actually kept an eye on the ferry's movements, afraid something might happen. But what we feared came true. We heard your conversation with Gao Cheng. When Gao Cheng dispersed his lingering remnant soul, the little girl burped, and a wisp of black smoke drifted out of her mouth, exactly like that martial artist. It must have been tampered with in that turtle jelly. But this time, I can guarantee you—except for Gao Cheng staying near Jingguan City possibly using Grasping and Viewing Mountains and Rivers on us—I, Zhu Quan, can guarantee that at least on the little girl, there are no more backdoors left."
The middle-aged Daoist's tone was indifferent, but it somehow felt even more sarcastic. "For one person, you're willing to disregard the entire Skeleton Beach, even the whole southern part of Juluzhou. If you, Chen Ping'an, had weighed the pros and cons, thought it over for a long time, and then acted, I, as a bystander, wouldn't have much to say. But you did it without a moment's hesitation."
Chen Ping'an's one sentence almost made the middle-aged Daoist's heart lake stir. "Your Daoist skills aren't that profound."
The middle-aged Daoist sneered. "Since you're so sentimental, picking up a little water spirit on the road and giving away a treasure, if I were a villain running into you, it would be a tremendous stroke of luck."
The Daoist saw the white-clad scholar, wearing two dharma robes, take out his folding fan and tap it lightly on his own head. "Are you even higher in realm than Du Mao?"
The middle-aged Daoist laughed coldly. "I don't know the exact truth and inside story, but what realm are you at now? Back then you must have been even more pathetic. Facing an Ascension Realm cultivator, you Chen Ping'an survived, didn't you? That was thanks to your hidden backer, wasn't it? No wonder you dared to threaten Gao Cheng, vowing to give Jingguan City a surprise in the Ghost Valley. Shall I send a message for you by flying sword across continents?"
The white-clad scholar said with a grin, "Do you know that even my backer can't be bothered to give you a single glance? Doesn't that make you mad?"
The middle-aged Daoist's face darkened, but then he smiled freely. "Not mad. I just find you unpleasant. A half-baked sword cultivator that Gao Cheng would consider a kindred spirit—your backer is indeed powerful, and with your deep scheming at such a young age, Gao Cheng's eyesight is good; he really knows people. And you're not bad either. Being able to chat and laugh with Gao Cheng, the Lord of the Ghost Valley's Heroic Spirits—if this gets out, that someone gave Gao Cheng a pot of wine and he finished it, your name, Chen Ping'an, would spread overnight to all the mountain sects in Northern Juluzhou."
The white-clad scholar went "Oh," tapped his palm with the fan, and said, "You can shut up now. I was only being polite to you out of respect for Sect Leader Zhu. Now your quota of words with me is used up."
The middle-aged Daoist smiled. "How about a spar? Don't you think you're quite good at fighting?"
The white-clad scholar said, "Then, for the sake of the thousand-year peach syrup tea your master gave me, I'll say one more sentence to you."
The middle-aged Daoist waited for a moment.
The man just stood there silently, looking at him with pity in his eyes.
The Daoist suddenly realized—the so-called "one more sentence" really was just that one sentence.
Zhu Quan was worried.
She was truly afraid that if these two kept talking, they'd start rolling up their sleeves and fighting. Then it would be awkward for her to help either side, and staying neutral wasn't her style either. Or she could openly mediate and then land a few blows on both of them? Fighting, she was good at; mediating, not so much. Some accidental injuries would be understandable.
The old Daoist said softly, "It's fine. This will be good for both Chen Ping'an and my disciple."
Zhu Quan sighed. "Chen Ping'an, since you've already guessed, I won't bother with introductions. These two Daoist masters are from the Little Profound Capital Temple in Ghost Valley. We invited them out this time. As you know, our Hemp-clad Sect can handle fighting and killing, but dealing with ghostly tricks like Gao Cheng's requires someone like the Abbot here to keep an eye on things."
Chen Ping'an nodded, saying nothing.
This old Daoist from Little Profound Capital Temple, according to Jiang Shangzhen, should be Yang Ningxing's temporary protector.
That night by the iron chain bridge at the cliff, this Abbot, who had hopes of becoming a Heavenly Lord, kept watch all night, afraid that Chen Ping'an would directly beat Yang Ningxing to death.
As for that cup of thousand-year peach syrup tea, delivered by a golden-armored divine being—whether it was the whim of a Daoist True Lord or a form of hospitality similar to Gao Cheng's, Chen Ping'an knew too little about Little Profound Capital Temple to guess their true intentions.
Chen Ping'an glanced at the little girl in Zhu Quan's arms and said to her, "I might have to trouble you with one more matter, Sect Leader Zhu. It's not that I don't trust the Hemp-clad Sect and the Abbot, but I don't trust Gao Cheng. So please, when you send the little girl to Longquan County by cross-continent ferry, tell Wei Bo of Piyun Mountain to find me someone named Cui Dongshan. Say that I want Cui Dongshan to return to Luopo Mountain immediately and carefully examine the little girl's soul."
He trusted the Hemp-clad Sect cultivators, but this Abbot, who had taught such a disciple as Xu Song, plus his ill-tempered Nascent Soul disciple here—he really didn't trust them that much.
The middle-aged Daoist frowned.
He had heard that Wei Bo, the Northern March God of Great Li, was on the verge of immediately breaking into the Jade Pu realm. There were already faint signs of auspicious phenomena in the territory of the Great Li Northern March.
Zhu Quan was straightforward. "Is this Cui Dongshan up to the task?"
Chen Ping'an said slowly, "If he can't do it, then no one can."
The old Daoist said with a smile, "We do need to be thorough. I can only say that after doing my best, I found no irregularities on this little girl. If there's a hidden flaw, the consequences would be severe. Having another person check her is a good thing."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "The Abbot is magnanimous."
The old Daoist let it go with a smile.
Seeing that the discussion was almost over, Zhu Quan suddenly said, "Abbot, you two go ahead. I'll stay and talk to Chen Ping'an about some private matters."
The middle-aged Daoist withdrew the cloud sea formation.
Not to mention anything else, this Daoist's methods showed Chen Ping'an yet again the subtlety and ruthlessness of mountain arts.
So one could actually suffer repercussions from using Grasping and Viewing Mountains and Rivers.
The master and disciple of Little Profound Capital Temple, along with the two Hemp-clad Sect ancestors, first flew south by wind.
Zhu Quan got straight to the point. "That senior disciple of the Abbot always likes to say strange things. I've been annoyed with him for ages, but it's hard to make a move against him. However, he's very good at combat—it's said he's learned seventy or eighty percent of Little Profound Capital Temple's hidden skills. Don't bother with him for now. When you're higher in realm someday, beat him half to death."
Chen Ping'an put away his folding fan, flew his sword to Zhu Quan's side, and reached out. Zhu Quan handed the little girl to the young Sword Immortal and teased, "A big man like you knows how to hold a child? What, did you learn from Jiang Shangzhen? Plan to use that kind of unorthodox trick to deceive women in the martial world and on the mountains?"
Chen Ping'an sat cross-legged, holding the little girl in his arms. Light snoring could be heard. He smiled, a mix of laughter and a hint of sadness in his eyes. "When I was young, I used to hold children, play with them, and take care of them all day long."
Zhu Quan glanced at the young man. By the look of it, it seemed to be true.
Zhu Quan sat on the cloud sea, seeming hesitant to speak, which was unprecedented.
Chen Ping'an didn't look up but seemed to guess what she was thinking. He said slowly, "I've always thought you were the smartest person on Skeleton Beach, Sect Leader Zhu. You just can't be bothered to think or act."
Zhu Quan nodded. "Then I understand. I trust you."
Then Zhu Quan laughed. "But your half-truths and half-lies with Gao Cheng—even someone like me who's familiar with you would have doubts. Let alone the old Abbot, who doesn't know you well, and his senior disciple, who cultivates power but not the heart."
Chen Ping'an said, "The earlier parts were all true. I had prepared for the worst—the little girl dying on the ferry, me unable to protect her, only able to take revenge. Simple as that. The later parts aren't worth mentioning. We were probing each other, both trying to see more of the other's heart path. Gao Cheng was also worried. He watched me the whole way, but everything might have been what I intended him to see. He was afraid of losing twice, and if he lost again, he wouldn't even have the spirit to fight for that Little Fengdu sword. In the end, it was just a little tug-of-war in the state of mind."
Chen Ping'an freed one hand, gently flicked his finger against the Sword-nurturing Gourd at his waist, and the flying sword Chuyi slowly emerged, hovering quietly by his shoulder, unusually docile. Chen Ping'an said calmly, "Some of Gao Cheng's words were naturally true too. For example, he felt I was really his kind—probably thinking we both kept betting, little by little straightening our backs that were almost crushed and broken, then rising higher and higher. Just as you respect Gao Cheng, you can still kill him without hesitation. Even if it's just the loss of one soul and one spirit of Gao Cheng, you feel you owe me, Chen Ping'an, a huge favor. And I won't fail to see his various strengths just because he's my mortal enemy."
Zhu Quan grunted in agreement. "That's how it should be. Separate the matters, then do what must be done. There are many sect secrets I can't tell outsiders, but in short, this ghost Gao Cheng is not simple. For instance, if I, Zhu Quan, one day completely kill Gao Cheng and smash Jingguan City to pieces, I will definitely bring out a pot of good wine to toast the former infantryman Gao Cheng, then the current city lord of Jingguan City, and finally Gao Cheng for tempering our Hemp-clad Sect's Dao heart."
Chen Ping'an said, "I don't know why, but in this world, there are always people who think baring teeth at all evil is such a great thing. And so many people like to discuss matters when they should examine their hearts, and examine their hearts when they should discuss matters."
Zhu Quan thought for a moment, then slapped Chen Ping'an hard on the shoulder. "Bring out the wine! Two pots, better than what Gao Cheng had! After we drink, I'll tell you a few words from the bottom of my heart that are wonderfully subtle!"
Chen Ping'an took out two pots of wine and gave them both to Zhu Quan, reminding her softly, "When you drink, remember to disperse the alcohol aura, or she might wake up. Once she sees me, I'll have to coax her again to get her to go to Skeleton Beach. This little girl has been craving my wine for a long time. As for the turtle jelly matter, you can tell her directly. The little girl is actually quite brave and can't hide any bad thoughts."
Zhu Quan finished one pot in one gulp, not a drop left.
But as she tilted her head back to drink, her posture was bold and careless—at least twenty percent of the wine spilled down her chin.
Chen Ping'an said helplessly, "Sect Leader Zhu, you really need to change this drinking habit. Every time you drink, you have to offer it to heaven and earth?"
Zhu Quan laughed angrily. "You gave me the wine! What business is it of yours?"
Chen Ping'an looked into the distance and smiled. "If I could be friends with Sect Leader Zhu, that would be great. But if we went into business together, I'd be crying."
Zhu Quan's expression turned serious. "A cultivator's true strength isn't in coexisting harmoniously with the world, even if he stands out from the crowd. It's how much he changes the world beyond attaining longevity... Even to say a heartless mountain remark, regardless of whether the outcome is good or bad, regardless of the human heart's good or evil—as long as he changes the world a lot, he is strong. On this point, we have to admit it!"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "After acknowledging them as the strong, still daring to throw a punch at them—that's being truly strong."
Zhu Quan nodded, uncorked the second pot, and this time started drinking frugally, taking small sips. It wasn't that she had changed her nature, but that she had always been this way.
When wine was abundant, she drank heavily; when wine was scarce, she sipped slowly.
Chen Ping'an turned his head and smiled at Zhu Quan. "Actually, one of my students once said something similar to what you just said. He said that a country's true strength isn't the ability to cover up mistakes, but the ability to correct them."
Zhu Quan laughed. "Matters of the mortal world don't concern me. Dealing with one Ghost Valley and one Gao Cheng in this lifetime is already enough for me. But in the future, Du Wensi and Pang Lanxi of the Hemp-clad Sect will definitely do better than me. You can wait and see."
Zhu Quan exhaled heavily. "I'll ask anyway, even if it makes people uncomfortable. It's better to get it out than to keep it bottled up. If I'm uncomfortable, I might as well make you uncomfortable too. Otherwise, no amount of wine will help. You said you could give Jingguan City a surprise. That was true at the beginning. I can't guess how you'll do it, and I don't care. Anyway, aside from anything else, you're steady in your actions. You're ruthless to others, but the most ruthless to yourself. That being said, you really can't blame that Daoist from Little Profound Capital Temple for worrying that you might become a second Gao Cheng, or ally with Gao Cheng."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "I can understand that seemingly natural way of thinking, but I don't accept it."
Zhu Quan asked directly, "Then when Gao Cheng used the turtle jelly matter to blackmail you into giving him that flying sword on your shoulder, were you really fooled by him?"
Chen Ping'an nodded without hesitation. "Yes. So in the future, I'll think more about the techniques and divine abilities outside of killing when dealing with a Jade Pu realm cultivator."
Zhu Quan pressed on. "So between Chuyi and the little girl, in that single thought, you made your decision—to give up Chuyi and save the little girl?"
Chen Ping'an nodded again. "Otherwise? If the little girl died, where would I find her again? Chuyi? Even if Gao Cheng wasn't tricking me and really had the ability to take the flying sword on the spot and throw it to Jingguan City, so what?"
Chen Ping'an narrowed his eyes, a strange smile on his face. "Do you know how much I hoped Gao Cheng would take the flying sword? So I could do something I've never done in all my years of life and death, not once—but something that the mountains and the mortal world both love and consider utterly justified!"
Chen Ping'an raised a hand to press against his brow. After relaxing his frown, he moved gently, handed the little girl in his arms back to Zhu Quan, stood up slowly, flicked his wrists, and rolled up his sleeves.
Chen Ping'an stood on the sword and in the misty cloud sea.
His eyes burned. "Gao Cheng used every trick. If he really took the flying sword Chuyi, then I, Chen Ping'an, would have no choice left. That would be an extremely interesting thing. Sect Leader Zhu, guess what I would do?"
Zhu Quan held the little girl, stood up, and laughed. "I can't guess."
The white-clad scholar said unhurriedly, "I would first have a man named Li Er, a Tenth Realm martial artist, repay a favor to me by going to Skeleton Beach. I would have my student disciple, who is currently only at the Nascent Soul realm, come across continents to Skeleton Beach to resolve his teacher's worries. I would go and beg someone—the first time I, Chen Ping'an, have begged in so many years! I would beg that old man, also at the peak of the Tenth Realm martial arts, to leave his bamboo tower and throw one punch for his half-disciple Chen Ping'an. Since I'm already begging, I wouldn't hold back anymore. Finally, I would beg a sword cultivator named Zuo You—'Little junior brother is in mortal danger; I implore the senior brother to draw his sword!' Then we would just fight until heaven and earth turn upside down!"
Zhu Quan, the dignified Sect Leader of the Hemp-clad Sect who dared to swing her blade unceasingly at Gao Cheng, actually felt a trace of... fear.
There was a pure momentum on that young man, unrelated to good or evil.
The man raised one hand high, stamped his foot, and drove the half-immortal weapon sword straight down. He said calmly, "If even then Gao Cheng doesn't die, or even some one or two Ascension Realm backers pop out, it doesn't matter. I won't have to beg anyone anymore. I won't beg anyone."
Zhu Quan saw the man burst into loud laughter, and finally spoke softly, as if whispering to someone, "I have one sword, traveling with me."
That half-immortal weapon sword, which had been about to fly back, didn't dare come close at all anymore, hovering far away at the edge of the cloud sea.
But in the end, Zhu Quan saw the man lower his head, looking at his rolled-up sleeves, silently crying. Then he slowly raised his left hand, gripping one sleeve tightly, and choked out, "Mr. Qi died because of me. The person in the world who should least let him down isn't me, Chen Ping'an? How could I do this? Anyone can, but the Chen Ping'an of Mud Vase Lane—he can't."