# Chapter 522: The World's Great Trends Are All Small Matters
The Jingnan Kingdom was crisscrossed with rivers, and the two riders continued traveling day and night without rest.
However, getting from the Jingnan Kingdom to the Northern Yan Kingdom was somewhat troublesome, because a series of battles had recently erupted along the border between the two countries. The Northern Yan had initiated them, sending large numbers of light cavalry—ranging from several hundred to a thousand riders—deep into the passes to raid and harass. Since the northern regions of Jingnan had virtually no cavalry worthy of the name that could engage them in open-field combat, they were forced to retreat behind city walls. As a result, all border passes between the two countries were sealed off. Under such circumstances, any wandering martial artist would become a target for arrows.
Nevertheless, the two riders decided to cross the border by selecting mountain passes.
Connecting this with the earlier infiltration of Jingnan by Wuling Kingdom scouts, Sui Jingcheng seemed to understand something.
That evening, as they rode their horses up a hillside, they saw a village built along the water. Flames were rising everywhere.
Just as Sui Jingcheng assumed that the senior would observe from a distance for a while before taking a detour, one rider charged straight down the slope, heading directly for the village. Sui Jingcheng was startled for a moment, then whipped his horse and hurried to catch up.
After entering the village, it was like a scene from a human hell. Everywhere were corpses that had been tortured and killed. Most of the women were barely clothed. Many of the young and middle-aged men had died from blood loss after spears and lances had pierced bloody holes in their limbs. They had struggled to crawl, leaving trails of blood behind them. There were also many severed limbs and dismembered bodies cut by sharp blades. The fate of many young children was especially tragic.
Sui Jingcheng dismounted, crouched on the ground, and began to dry heave.
Chen Ping'an closed his eyes and listened intently. After a moment, he said, "No survivors."
Sui Jingcheng didn't absorb the words at all; she felt like she was vomiting out her very bile.
Chen Ping'an crouched down, pinched some soil stained with blood, gently kneaded it, then dropped it on the ground. He stood up, looked around, then leaped onto the roof ridge. He observed the footprints and hoofprints around him, his gaze constantly extending into the distance. Finally, he floated back down to the ground, took off the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, handed it to Sui Jingcheng, and also passed her the reins of his horse. "We're going to follow them. We can catch up. Remember to protect yourself. It might not be safe for you to stay here alone. Try your best to keep up with me. When your horse's stamina gives out, switch mounts."
Chen Ping'an blurred away.
Sui Jingcheng mounted her horse, forced herself to overcome the dizziness, and spurred her steed into a mad gallop.
Fortunately, that azure-clad figure didn't intentionally push himself to the limit; he still considered the stamina of Sui Jingcheng's mount.
About half an hour later, they heard the sound of hoofbeats over by a shallow beach in a valley.
The senior said without stopping his steps, "We've caught up. From now on, don't worry about hurting the horses, just follow me as best you can. It's best not to let the distance exceed two hundred paces. But be careful—no one knows what unexpected things might happen."
Sui Jingcheng leaped onto the other horse's back, the Sword-Nurturing Gourd that the senior had temporarily left with her hanging at her waist. She began to charge forward at full speed.
Border army elite cavalry had strict regulations regarding washing horses' nostrils and feeding fodder.
In this valley, which was half road and half stream, that cavalry unit must have lingered for a while, having only recently set out again.
One of the soldiers at the tail end of the cavalry unit happened to turn around. Seeing that fleeting azure-clad figure whose face was indistinct, he was momentarily stunned, then roared at the top of his lungs, "Martial artist attack!"
The azure-clad figure transformed into a wisp of green smoke and arrived in an instant. A dozen or so well-trained elite cavalrymen had just begun to turn their horses, reaching for bows and crossbows, when the two standard-issue sabers at their waists inexplicably clattered out of their sheaths. In the blink of an eye, two heads flew high into the air, and two headless corpses tumbled off their horses.
That azure-clad figure never touched the ground again. Instead, he bent low, moving like a bow, constantly shifting and maneuvering atop the warhorses, wielding a saber in each hand.
In just a few breaths, more than twenty riders had been cut down, each with a single strike—either severed at the waist or split open from head to toe.
The Northern Yan elite cavalry began to scatter quickly, abandoning bows and crossbows in favor of drawing their sabers. Some also started retrieving armor from their saddlebags and donning it.
A cavalryman who appeared to be an officer came charging over, wielding a long lance. He thrust it fiercely at the azure-clad figure, who at that moment was using the tip of his saber to lightly poke the neck of a nearby soldier. He had just withdrawn his blade and was about to lean back and dart away to kill a rider behind him. The long lance happened to have calculated his trajectory perfectly.
Sui Jingcheng was about to shout a warning, but quickly shut her mouth.
The next moment, Sui Jingcheng saw the azure-clad figure somehow twist sideways in midair, stepping through the void as if walking on solid ground, and charge straight into the oncoming lance. He let the spear tip strike his chest, then surged forward. The cavalry officer roared in fury. Even though the palm of his hand was already a bloody mess, he refused to let go. But the long lance still slipped through his grip, sliding backward. Under the intense friction, bone was surely visible in his palm. Sensing trouble, the officer finally decided to abandon his family heirloom lance. But in the blink of an eye, that azure-clad figure was already standing hunched on the horse's head. The next instant, his saber pierced through the officer's neck, skewering it completely.
The man straightened up abruptly, his right hand holding the saber that had pierced the officer's neck. Not only that, but he raised his saber-wielding hand high, lifting the officer completely off the horse's back.
On the warhorse, the azure-clad figure held that Northern Yan border cavalry standard-issue saber, which had almost entirely pierced through the officer's neck, revealing a long stretch of gleaming blade. Because the strike was so fast, it hadn't even been stained with a single drop of blood.
Chen Ping'an withdrew the saber abruptly, and the officer's corpse rolled off the horse, crashing to the ground.
Taking advantage of this opportunity, the Northern Yan cavalry launched a volley of arrows and bolts.
Chen Ping'an gripped a saber in each hand. His azure robes trembled once, and all the arrows exploded in midair.
The warhorse beneath him instantly broke its legs and collapsed. The azure-clad figure was almost imperceptible, except for two flashes of brilliant saber light that flared up everywhere—chaotic and disorderly, like the flames in that village—but each one left a dead body in its wake.
Two hundred Northern Yan elite cavalrymen. Two hundred incomplete corpses.
Chen Ping'an stood on the back of a warhorse and tossed the two sabers to the ground. He looked around and said, "You've been following us all this way. You finally found this opportunity. Still not showing yourselves?"
In the stream, where the water only reached knee height, a head emerged. It was covered with a snow-white mask. Ripples spread, and eventually a figure in black robes stood there. A smiling voice seeped out from the edges of the mask. "Fine saber technique."
At the same time, several black-robed assassins with white masks floated down from various cliffs.
One was a woman with a graceful figure. Holding a powder compact, she lightly applied rouge to her fair neck with a delicate gesture.
Another kept both hands hidden within his wide sleeves.
One crouched beside the corpse of the cavalry officer, pressing two fingers against the center of the corpse's forehead.
One was heavily built, like a small mountain, with a giant bow slung across his back.
The only one still standing on the water's surface, the black-robed man, smiled and said, "Time to work and earn our pay. Finish this quickly. Don't keep the Sword Immortal waiting to walk the Yellow Springs Road."
The assassin who had been applying rouge to her neck spoke in a coquettish voice, "I know, I know."
She tucked the powder compact back into her sleeve, then flicked her wrists, producing two gleaming short sabers densely inscribed with ancient talisman patterns.
As she began to advance slowly, two identical women appeared to her left and right. Then two more materialized out of thin air, as if the process would never end.
Over a hundred women with short sabers, blotting out the sky and covering the earth, surged from all directions toward that young man in azure.
But one of them left the battlefield. Moving like a dragonfly skimming the water, she constantly changed her trajectory, charging toward Sui Jingcheng, who was sitting on horseback. However, a flash of sword light shot out from the Sword-Nurturing Gourd and pierced through her head. With a bang, the woman's body turned into a puff of cyan smoke.
The true battlefield.
One by one, the women were shattered into cyan smoke with each punch.
But every single woman and every single short saber was incredibly sharp—they were not mere illusions. Moreover, the woman seemed to have hidden weapons all over her body, making her impossible to defend against.
If not for the fact that the man was a Golden Body Realm martial artist with thick skin and tough flesh, an ordinary Sixth Realm martial artist would have died dozens of times just from her techniques alone.
This was how immortal arts worked. Even though she was only a Sea-Viewing Realm military cultivator, she triumphed through quantity. This was an innate counter to martial artists.
The vast world was full of wonders; nothing was absolute.
The azure-clad figure suddenly vanished and reappeared before a woman at the edge of the battlefield. He punched through her chest with one blow.
All the women halted abruptly. She gave a bitter smile and asked, "How did you know I was the true body? The powder compact clearly wasn't in my sleeve..."
Chen Ping'an frowned.
The next moment, the woman laughed seductively and turned into a wisp of cyan smoke. All the other women did the same. Eventually, the smoke gathered together in a thick, rolling cloud. A woman emerged slowly, one hand behind her back. She rubbed her chest and smiled, "You found me correctly, unfortunately, unless you can kill all of me in one go, I won't die. Annoying, isn't it, Sword Immortal?"
With the hand behind her back, she made a gesture.
The man nodded. The woman's body exploded into a large cloud of cyan smoke, and once again, countless women flung themselves at the azure-clad figure.
One punch later.
Chen Ping'an stood where the woman had been. Almost all of the women had been shattered by his majestic fist force, like an iron cavalry charge breaking through a formation.
Only one woman remained, with blood constantly seeping from the gaps in her snow-white mask. She raised a finger and pressed heavily against the mask.
A short assassin who had been crouching on the ground nodded, stood up, and said, "It's done. I knew I couldn't count on you. You almost messed things up."
The woman was clearly severely injured. "If I hadn't delayed him for so long, could you have completed the formation?!"
From the Sword-Nurturing Gourd at Sui Jingcheng's waist, the flying sword Fifteen shot out.
The sword light flew straight toward the short formation master's temple.
That short assassin, whose hands had been hidden in his sleeves the whole time, had already drawn a golden talisman during his exchange with the female assassin. He smiled and said, "Since I knew you were a Sword Immortal, would I come unprepared?"
As he raised his two fingers, the talisman hovered beside him, waiting for that flying sword to throw itself into the trap.
But flying sword Fifteen abruptly turned and flew away, returning to the Sword-Nurturing Gourd.
A streak of white rainbow shot out from Chen Ping'an's brow.
The sword light flashed.
Unexpectedly, the other hand had also raised a talisman. Flying sword First became mired as if in mud, sinking into the talisman, then vanished in a flash.
That golden talisman hovered before the short assassin, quivering slightly. The man smiled and said, "Lucky I prepared an extra precious Sword-Suppressing Talisman, or I really would have died. You Sword Immortals, why are you so treacherous? You already have the greatest killing power among all mountain cultivators, and yet you're so deep and calculating. How are we Qi practitioners supposed to compete? It makes me very angry."
In fact, as soon as flying sword First was trapped by that Sword-Suppressing Talisman, a formation of flowing light appeared within five zhang of Chen Ping'an. The light rays crisscrossed like a chessboard, then began to shrink. However, the brilliance of those rays became increasingly dazzling, as if an immortal had plucked the purest essence of sun and moon.
The short assassin, who was a mountain formation master, curled his lips.
This formation had two major features. First, it stagnated the circulation of a cultivator's spiritual energy. Second, regardless of whether the trapped person was a military cultivator carrying armor pellets or a pure martial artist in the Spirit Refining Realm, no matter how tough and resilient their physique—like a mountain—they would be bound by those crisscrossing light rays, entangled without end. This torment was no longer just physical pain; it was akin to an ordinary mortal or common cultivator suffering the agony of having their soul lit like a lamp.
The formation master cursed a few more times, then pulled out a stack of yellow paper talismans, suspending them near that golden Sword-Suppressing Talisman. Spiritual light connected them, seemingly forming another small talisman formation.
The situation was settled.
The black-robed man with the snow-white mask, standing on the water's surface, glanced at the distribution of corpses on the battlefield, then began to replay the man's earlier moves in his mind.
There was a small matter that needed to be confirmed.
Now, it seemed they could wrap up.
Under normal circumstances, if they had encountered such a highly skilled Golden Core Sword Immortal by chance, it would have just been a matter of dying sooner or later. Escaping with one or two survivors would have counted as the opponent showing mercy.
But battles between mountain cultivators were never so simple. Realm and treasures were certainly important, but they were not absolute determining factors. And combat power in this world was never a simple one-plus-one equation.
He nodded to the assassin who had been gathering souls.
The latter stood up and began to pace in a ritualistic footwork pattern, chanting silently in his mind.
The azure-clad Sword Immortal, already trapped within the formation, suddenly stumbled, his shoulder swaying. Chen Ping'an seemed to exert great effort just to raise his right hand slightly. Looking down, he saw that the meridians in his palm were crawling with twisted black threads.
It was as if the entire arm had been immobilized.
Chen Ping'an clenched his fist and shook it, but still could not dispel those black meridians.
At the same time, the heavily built assassin unslung his giant bow and drew it to the full moon.
The black-robed man on the river smiled and said, "When entering a temple, why must one hold incense in the left hand? The right hand carries too much karma and is unsuitable for paying homage to the Buddha. This ultimate technique is not something ordinary cultivators often get to see. If I hadn't feared the unexpected, I should have used this Buddhist divine ability to target you from the start."
An arrow covered in flowing light shot through the air.
The man caught it with his left hand. The impact was tremendous. That azure-clad Sword Immortal had to turn his head to dodge the arrow tip. His left fist exploded with force, snapping the arrow in two before it fell to the ground.
Beneath his feet, the shrinking chessboard eventually transformed into countless fine threads of light, climbing up like living things, like a net of law enveloping the azure-clad figure in an instant.
The burly strongman continued to draw and shoot without pause. After six arrows—all of which were swatted away by the azure-clad figure—the black-robed man on the river remained motionless. A flash of sword light shot toward him.
He reached out with his left palm and actually caught that sharp flying sword.
Even a flying sword from a bottleneck Dragon Gate Realm sword cultivator was still a flying sword. Moreover, in terms of sheer sharpness, it was already comparable to that of an ordinary Golden Core sword cultivator.
Although the man dodged slightly while blocking and trapping the flying sword, he was still pierced through his left shoulder by an arrow. After the arrow passed through his shoulder, its momentum remained undiminished. This demonstrated the power of such immortal arrows and the extraordinary strength of the archer.
With his right hand already sealed by a divine ability, his left shoulder severely wounded, and the formation binding his body while his soul trembled, this azure-clad Sword Immortal was left with no strength to fight back.
Sui Jingcheng was in tears, pounding the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, shouting, "Go save your master! Even if just to try!"
But the gourd at her waist remained silent.
Sui Jingcheng wasn't afraid of death. It wasn't that she was unwilling to charge forward. She knew that if she went, she would only increase the danger for the senior.
She began to hate this cold calculation of hers.
Sui Jingcheng gritted her teeth, spurred her horse forward, and drew three gold hairpins. She began to charge ahead. At worst, she would die first. Perhaps that would allow him not to be distracted by her, and he could focus on killing the enemy and escaping.
Covered in blood, with his soul in torment, Chen Ping'an flicked his left hand, throwing away the flying sword he could barely control. He smiled and said, "Is that all? No more trump cards?"
The assassin who had used Buddhist divine ability to seal the azure-clad Sword Immortal's right arm said in a low voice, "Something's wrong! What living person would remain completely unaffected under such torment?!"
Chen Ping'an let his right arm hang limp, allowing the formation to envelop him.
He took one step and disappeared.
Kill the formation master first.
This was what Mao Xiaodong had repeatedly stressed after that thrilling battle in the Great Sui capital.
The short man naturally knew his own importance. He used earth escape to flee.
The black-robed man on the river and the archer both sent their flying sword and arrow shooting toward where the short formation master had been standing.
But the azure-clad figure did not appear there. Instead, he deviated by five or six paces, grabbed the woman by the neck with his left hand, and lifted her into the air. The woman died on the spot. Her soul was instantly obliterated by the torrent of overwhelming force.
He threw the corpse toward the second arrow, then stamped his foot. The earth trembled.
With a muffled grunt, the formation master burst out from the ground, appearing behind the burly strongman. Chen Ping'an casually waved his hand, shattering the Sword-Suppressing Talisman and the other yellow paper talismans together.
Then he vanished again.
One punch pierced through the chest of that burly strongman, who wore Sweet Dew Armor beneath his black robe.
The left hand that had passed through the chest just happened to grab the formation master's face. The latter's head exploded with a bang.
The black-robed man on the river sighed, withdrew his flying sword, and rapidly submerged into the water.
Only that Qi practitioner, who could seal a cultivator's arm based on the weight of their karma, remained. His body collapsed to the ground, and his soul scattered as wisps of cyan smoke fleeing in all directions.
Flying swords First and Fifteen shot out simultaneously, quickly shredding those wisps of smoke.
Chen Ping'an's right arm still hung limp. His shoulder swayed slightly, and he staggered. Yet in a step or two, he reached the stream, standing where the black-robed man had disappeared. In his hand appeared the Sword Immortal. He stabbed downward.
The entire stream's water exploded, sending countless splashes into the air.
But near the mountaintop, a figure that had been pressed against the cliff face suddenly leaped up and transformed into a rainbow, flying away.
Chen Ping'an released his grip on the Sword Immortal, which extended an extremely long golden thread as it chased after the figure.
At the same time, Chen Ping'an looked around, narrowing his eyes.
Flying swords First and Fifteen returned to Chen Ping'an's Qi Palace from their respective acupoints.
Finally, Chen Ping'an's gaze settled on a stone cliff on the opposite bank. He walked slowly toward it. "Do you really think I'm a three-year-old child? You shouldn't have unleashed that flying sword. Otherwise, you might have actually escaped."
From within the stone wall, that black-robed man with the snow-white mask burst out at incredible speed.
The two exchanged flying swords.
Chen Ping'an used his left hand to protect his heart, catching the flying sword between his fingers. The tip of the enemy's sword was only a hair's breadth from his heart.
Meanwhile, both the opponent's brow and heart had been pierced through by First and Fifteen.
The flying sword that Chen Ping'an held between two fingers instantly dimmed, losing all its sword energy and spirituality.
Then he threw it back with tremendous force.
The black-robed man, who still had a thread of life force but knew he was doomed, chose to kill himself. He destroyed all his key Qi Palaces, leaving no trace behind.
Chen Ping'an shot backward, floating across the stream to stand on the bank. He retrieved the two flying swords and punched once, dispersing the turbulent ripples of agitated Qi.
The Sword Immortal returned.
Chen Ping'an held it in his left hand, using it as a walking stick. He took a deep breath, turned his head, and spat out a mouthful of stagnant blood.
Sui Jingcheng spurred her horse forward, then dismounted.
Chen Ping'an turned around and said, "I'm fine."
Sui Jingcheng blinked. Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "They had no more moves left."
Only then did tears well up in Sui Jingcheng's eyes. Looking at the azure-clad Sword Immortal covered in blood, she choked out, "Didn't you say that the battlefield has its rules and the martial world has its own rules? Why did you have to meddle? If you hadn't, this great battle wouldn't have happened..."
Chen Ping'an crouched by the water, using his left hand to scoop up a handful of water to wash his face. The Sword Immortal stood upright beside him. He stared at the stream, which had returned to calm, flowing gently. He said calmly, "I told you before. Why do we talk about complex principles? To simplify our punches and our sword strikes."
Sui Jingcheng crouched beside him, cupping her face in her hands, sobbing softly.
Chen Ping'an said, "You're in luck. Search through the corpses of those assassins and the surrounding area. See if there are any immortal treasures you can pick up."
Sui Jingcheng's tears turned to laughter. She wiped her face, stood up, and hurried off to search for spoils.
About the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the two riders left the valley along the same path, heading back toward the village.
Chen Ping'an swayed slightly. His arm was slowly regaining sensation.
Sui Jingcheng's complexion had improved considerably. She asked, "Senior, why are we going back?"
Chen Ping'an said, "To give those villagers a proper burial."
Sui Jingcheng nodded vigorously.
Then she felt a pang of guilt.
Chen Ping'an said slowly, "Don't be like that. Human strength has its limits. Like your father standing by in the pavilion, that in itself is not wrong. No spectator should be harshly judged. However, for some people, even if they are not at fault, the difference in their conscience can be like heaven and earth. Sui Jingcheng, I think you can be clear of conscience. Remember, when disaster strikes, everyone has moments of helplessness. If you manage to survive, don't be too guilty afterward. Otherwise, your state of mind will eventually shatter."
Sui Jingcheng hesitated for a moment, then turned her head. "Senior, even though we gained a little, you were still heavily injured. Don't you regret it?"
Chen Ping'an raised his left hand and pointed behind him. "You should ask them that question."
Sui Jingcheng didn't follow the azure-clad Sword Immortal's gesture to look back. She just stared at him, entranced.
---
At the village.
From dusk till late night, then until dawn.
The two riders slowly departed, continuing northward.
Sui Jingcheng was silent for a long time. Only when she saw the senior take off his Sword-Nurturing Gourd and drink did she finally speak. "Senior, throughout this journey, why were you willing to teach me so much?"
Chen Ping'an's answer was not a direct one. "What do you think of Senior Wang Dun of Sweeping Manor?"
Sui Jingcheng said, "He's a very good man."
Chen Ping'an asked again, "And what do you think of the disciples Wang Dun taught?"
Sui Jingcheng replied, "I'm not familiar with their true natures, but at least on the surface, they seem good."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "Have you ever considered that with Wang Dun, Sweeping Manor didn't just gain one more master? How much influence has one man—Wang Dun—had on the martial world of Wuling Kingdom, or even on the entire Wuling Kingdom?"
He continued, "So I wanted to see what would happen in the future if the Sui clan of Wuling gained a cultivator. Even if she doesn't stay in the Sui clan often, when she replaces old Minister Sui Xinyu, or the next nominal family head, and becomes the true pillar of the Sui clan—might the Sui clan then nurture a family tradition worthy of the words 'pure and righteous'?"
Sui Jingcheng looked at him.
Chen Ping'an said as if to himself, "I think there's hope."
Finally, he smiled and said, "I have Fallen Mountain. You have the Sui clan. A person shouldn't be arrogant, but also shouldn't belittle themselves. It's hard for us to change the world all at once. But we are changing it every moment."
Sui Jingcheng hummed in agreement.
A moment later, Chen Ping'an turned his head, seeming somewhat puzzled.
Sui Jingcheng was confused. "Senior, what's wrong?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head and adjusted his Sword-Nurturing Gourd. "Earlier, when you were prepared to fight to the death, that was admirable. But I want to tell you something rather unpleasant. Choosing to live through suffering for the sake of others will only make you feel worse in the long run. That is a remarkable thing, but not everyone will understand it. Don't let that lack of understanding become your burden."
Sui Jingcheng suddenly flushed and shouted, "Senior, can I like you?!"
Chen Ping'an remained composed, his heart like still water. "Like me? That's your business. I won't like you."
Sui Jingcheng let out a sigh of relief and laughed. "That's fine!"
Chen Ping'an seemed to recall something pleasant. His face lit up with a bright smile. He didn't turn his head but extended his thumb toward Sui Jingcheng, who was riding beside him. "Good taste."
On the northern journey.
"Senior, stop drinking. You're bleeding again."
"It's fine. This is what they call the demeanor of an expert."
"Senior, why don't you like me? Is it because I'm not pretty enough? Or is my character not good enough?"
"It has nothing to do with whether you're good or not. Every good woman deserves to be liked by a good man. You should only like him, and he should only like you. That's how it should be. Of course, you're not exactly young anymore, so you're not really a girl."
"Senior!"
"Finally, let me teach you a principle that Senior Wang Dun taught me. You must be able to listen to flattering words that sound wonderful, but you must also be able to listen to unpleasant truths."
The sound of hoofbeats echoed.
Walking on, the old locust tree of home was gone.
Walking on, the beloved girl was still far away.
Walking on, year after year the flowers bloomed in the spring breeze on the ridge, but the most respected teacher was no longer there.
Walking on, the most admired swordsman had not been seen for a long time. Did he still wear his bamboo hat? Had he found a good sword?
Walking on, the closest friends—had they seen the tallest mountains and the mightiest rivers?
Walking on, the sniveling kid who was always bullied had become the kind of person they once despised the most.
Walking on, it had been many years since his feet had worn straw sandals.
---
Lu Zhuo, a disciple of Wang Dun at Sweeping Manor, sent out a letter.
That letter was then forwarded by the recipient—using the immortal technique of flying sword communication—to a certain mountain dweller surnamed Qi.
Lu Zhuo had once met that man by chance in the martial world. They had considered each other kindred spirits. But in truth, the friend was a true prodigy. In contrast, Lu Zhuo's martial arts talent was quite ordinary. Not to mention all the mountain cultivators, even compared to his fellow disciples Fu Loutai, Wang Jingshan, and the younger junior sister and junior brother, Lu Zhuo had the least talent. So Lu Zhuo had settled on his final position at Sweeping Manor: succeeding the aging head steward and helping Senior Brother Wang Jingshan handle some trivial matters.
Lu Zhuo loved Sweeping Manor. He loved the liveliness there, how everyone was cordial.
His master and fellow disciples took good care of him. He felt he had no real ability to take care of them, so he would take care of those he could—the old, the weak, the women, and children in the manor.
Lu Zhuo liked watching Wang Jingshan meticulously teach the junior brother sword techniques.
The junior sister was always annoyed that she was too dark-skinned, not fair and pretty enough. Moreover, her saber techniques seemed forever distant from the senior sister's level. She didn't know if she would ever catch up in her lifetime. Lu Zhuo didn't know how to comfort her, but he was willing to listen to her minor frustrations.
His master, who hadn't traveled through the martial world for several years, had left the manor again.
Lu Zhuo didn't know what kind of martial world stories his master would bring back this time.
Wang Dun had left quietly, but he went beyond the martial world to find his eldest disciple, Fu Loutai.
It was a small county city some distance from the manor. He drank a jug of wine with that ordinary man.
Fu Loutai had learned some cooking skills and personally stir-fried three dishes to go with the wine. The flavor was truly mediocre. The peanuts were too salty, the lotus root slices too bland—if only they could have been evened out. But looking at the disciple's expression and the young man's smile, Wang Dun said nothing. After all, the wine was passable—though it was a pity he had brought it himself. The manor actually still had a few jars of Thin Plum Wine hidden away.
That man was not good with words. He just drank, without a single pleasant remark. When Wang Dun talked about the big and small matters at the manor, the man would respectfully toast him each time he paused. Wang Dun would drink with him.
Fu Loutai sat quietly to the side.
One jug of wine. No matter how slowly two grown men drank it, it wouldn't last long.
Finally, Wang Dun said, "Drinking with you is in no way inferior to drinking with that Sword Immortal. If the opportunity arises in the future and that Sword Immortal visits Sweeping Manor, I will definitely delay him for a while and call you and Loutai."
The man became somewhat flustered. He quickly put down his cup and chopsticks. "No, no, that won't do. We wouldn't have anything to talk about. Sitting at the same table as that Sword Immortal, I wouldn't be able to say a single word."
Wang Dun smiled. "You'll get along. Trust me. After you've talked, I'd like to see which little brat in the manor still dares to look down on you."
The man, his face flushed, hesitated for a moment. "Loutai being with me is already a great injustice to her. It's only natural that her junior brothers and sisters aren't happy about it. And they've already been very good about it. In the end, they still want what's best for her. Understanding that, I'm actually not unhappy. I'm even a bit glad. My own wife has so many people who care about her well-being. That's a good thing."
Wang Dun picked up the wine jug, tipped it into his cup. Only a few drops came out. He gestured to Fu Loutai that she didn't need to fetch more wine. He said to the young man, "With you thinking this way, Fu Loutai being with you is not an injustice."
Wang Dun opened his bundle and took out a jug of wine. "I have no other gifts. I just brought you a good bottle of wine. I only had three bottles myself. I drank most of one. I hid one in the manor. I plan to wait until I retire from the martial world to drink it. This is the last one."
Fu Loutai, who recognized quality, asked, "Master, is this an immortal brew?"
Wang Dun smiled and nodded. "After I sparred with that Sword Immortal in fist techniques, the other party felt my martial virtue was even higher than my martial skills, so he gave me three bottles. What could I do? He insisted on giving them. There was no stopping him."
Fu Loutai laughed. "Others might not know, but I do. Master, you still have quite a bit of immortal money. It's not like you can't afford it."
Wang Dun shook his head. "It's different. There aren't many mountain people with the spirit of the martial world."
Fu Loutai was blunt. "You're still just showing off that you drank with a Sword Immortal. If I'm not mistaken, after you leave here, you're going to share that last bottle with a few old friends from the martial world, right? And while you're at it, you'll chat about your sparring with the Sword Immortal?"
The man gently tugged at her sleeve. Fu Loutai said, "It's fine, Master—"
Wang Dun gave a sheepish grin, then laughed and cursed, "A married daughter is like water poured out! I'm off, don't see me out. If you have time, come visit the manor often. It's still your home."
The couple still saw him to their doorstep. In the twilight, the setting sun lengthened the old man's silhouette.
The man gently took her hand. "I feel guilty. Being looked down upon by the manor does bother me a little. I lied to your master earlier."
She gently held his hand. "It's fine. I know. And Master knows too."
---
Du Yu didn't dare return to Ghost Axe Palace immediately. Instead, he traveled the martial world alone, keeping a low profile.
He saw many injustices in the martial world and occasional disputes among mountain cultivators. Du Yu chose to stand by and watch. These days, whenever he saw anyone, he felt they were hidden masters. He hadn't recovered from the shock yet.
He felt some chagrin. When would he ever be able to play the part of a chivalrous and righteous man?
Then one day, he stumbled upon a chase where the strength difference was enormous. A group of big shots from the underworld was pursuing a disciple of the righteous path.
With lightning speed, Du Yu knocked down those forest outlaws, then hoisted the young man onto his shoulder and ran. After running for dozens of li, he dropped the rescued person on the ground and ran off himself.
Not only did the young man sit dumbfounded on the ground, but the gang of bewildered bandits in the distance also had no idea what had just happened.
---
Skeleton Shoal, Mourning Sect.
In Mural City, only one shop remained. Business was slow, but since it was the only one left, it could barely survive. Some people still came out of admiration.
Pang Lanxi, uncharacteristically free that day, came down from the mountain to help out in the shop.
Although Pang Lanxi's cultivation had become more and more demanding, and the number of times they met had actually decreased compared to previous years, the young girl's eyes were bright. She had never looked forward to her future life so much.
Even when Pang Lanxi wasn't around, she had far fewer worries.
---
Golden Crow Palace's Liu Zhiqing sat alone in meditation on the mountain peak.
Only a handful of cultivators, including the palace master of Golden Crow Palace, knew that the young grandmaster had gone into seclusion. It would be a long time, so the mountain had recently been closed.
No one was allowed to ascend.
As for why Liu Zhiqing was in seclusion sitting on the mountain peak, among those few who knew, none understood, and no one dared to ask.
---
At an immortal ferry port on the upper reaches of the Swaying River in Skeleton Shoal.
An itinerant cultivator couple, who had rarely stayed in an immortal inn for many days, finally saw the woman step out of the room after breaking through to the Cave Dwelling Realm. The man was in tears.
They went into the room together and closed the door. The woman said softly, "We still have so much Snowflake Coin left."
She wiped her tears. "I know. After giving us those skeletons from the Ghost Realm Valley, that Sword Immortal never intended to come back to the Naihe Pass market to find us. Why?"
The man smiled. "We owe it. Let it remain. Whether we have the chance to meet our benefactor again, and whether we can repay it in this lifetime—that's our matter. But whether we want to repay it—that's also our matter."
---
Under the secret machinations of Cangyun Lake's lake lord, who contributed both money and effort, the Fire God Shrine in Suijia City was rebuilt.
A new painted statue was erected.
Incense offerings flourished.
As for that City God Temple, its construction had yet to begin. The imperial court had also not yet enshrined a new City God.
In Suijia City.
Two youths from a run-down alley were cornered at both ends of the alley by a gang of adult thugs. The thugs carried clubs and approached with menacing smiles.
One of the youths, who was tall and lanky, braced his hands against the alley walls and quickly climbed to the top of the wall.
The other, a scrawny youth, tried to follow his example but was slow. One of the thugs grabbed his ankle and yanked him down, then swung a club at his head.
The scrawny youth protected his head with his arm.
The blow sent him stumbling back against the wall.
The tall youth, who had already been able to escape, leaped down lightly. But the ground was higher than expected. The agile youth stepped off the left and right alley walls a few times, landed on the ground, and managed to knock down several people with wild punches. Still, two fists couldn't defeat four hands. Soon, he was being beaten with clubs as well. Still, he struggled to protect the scrawny youth cowering against the wall behind him.
In the end, the tall youth's head was pressed to the ground. The scrawny youth was beaten until he rolled along the base of the wall.
One of the adult thugs stepped on the tall youth's head. He gestured for someone to bring over a white bowl that had been prepared earlier. The other thug, pinching his nose, quickly placed the white bowl on the ground.
"Dare to mess with our business? We need to teach you a lesson."
The man threw a string of copper coins beside the white bowl. "See? Money and food are all prepared for you. Eat what's in the bowl, and the money is yours. If you eat fast, you might even earn a piece of silver. If you don't eat, I'll break one of your legs."
The tall youth absolutely refused.
The scrawny youth let out a wail as a club struck him on the back.
Finally, the gang of thugs laughed heartily and swaggered away. Of course, they didn't forget to pick up the string of copper coins.
The tall youth crouched against the wall, vomiting.
The scrawny youth, his face swollen and bruised, sat against the wall with his legs pulled up, crying out loud.
The tall youth struggled to his feet and finally sat down beside his friend. "It's okay. One day, we'll get our revenge."
The scrawny youth was silent for a long time, then his crying stopped. He stared blankly into space. Finally, he said softly, "I want to become a person like that Sword Immortal."
He wiped his tears, not daring to look at the tall youth beside him. "Is that stupid?"
The tall youth rubbed his head. "Why not? What's wrong with that? Maybe when that Sword Immortal was our age, he wasn't even as good as us! You always like to sneak over to the school to listen to the old master's lessons. What's that saying I like best?"
The scrawny youth said, "Where there's a will, there's a way!"
Then he lowered his head. "But even if I gain power, I don't want to be like these thugs who only bully others."
The tall youth smiled. "That's fine. When we both become people like that Sword Immortal, you can focus on doing good deeds. I... won't do bad things either. I'll just focus on bullying the bad guys! Come on, let's make a pact!"
The two youths raised their palms together and slapped them heavily.
The tall youth turned to him and exhaled. "Does it smell good?"
The scrawny youth shoved him back. They went back and forth, both soon wincing in pain from their injuries, but eventually they burst out laughing.
They both looked up. The alley was narrow. It seemed like heaven and earth were vast, with only a single line of light and a way out.
But that line of light was right above the two youths' heads, and they could see it.
---
In the Shushui Kingdom, during the height of summer, Song Yushao left his manor and went to a familiar tavern in the town. He sat in his usual seat and ate a steaming hot pot.
The old man said proudly to himself, "Kid, see this? This is the real spicy food. I was going easy on your taste before. When it comes to sword techniques, you're a bit stronger. But when it comes to eating spicy food, one of me can handle several Chen Ping'ans."
In the Caiyi Kingdom, an emaciated old woman lay on her sickbed. A woman sitting by her bedside gently held her withered hand.
The old woman, who had reached the end of her strength, struggled to open her eyes and murmured, "Master, Mistress... this year's wine... hasn't been brewed yet... If Young Master Chen comes... he won't have any wine to drink..."
The woman by the bed, her eyes blurred with tears, leaned in slightly and said softly, "Don't worry, don't worry. This year's wine, I will brew it myself."
The old woman mumbled on, her voice now as faint as a mosquito's buzz. "And Young Master Chen likes the bamboo shoot stir-fry with meat the most. Mistress, remember to give him a big white bowl for wine, not a small cup... These trivial tasks should have been this servant's duty... I can only trouble our Mistress now... Don't forget, Mistress... don't forget..."
---
When Cui Dongshan left Guanhu Academy back then, Zhou Ju felt he was an interesting fellow.
Not long after Cui Dongshan left, changes occurred in both Guanhu Academy and the Great Sui Cliff Academy to the north.
Starting from the academy's Saint Mountain Master down to the various Vice Mountain Masters, all gentlemen and worthies now had to spend enough time each year giving lectures at the academies and Imperial Colleges of various dynasties.
No longer would the Saints teach gentlemen, gentlemen teach worthies, and worthies teach academy scholars.
Within all territories of Great Li, excluding private schools, all town and rural schools—regardless of whether they were run by vassal courts or government offices—had to increase the pay for their teachers. The amount would be determined locally based on circumstances. Those who had been teaching for more than twenty years would receive a one-time bonus. Thereafter, every ten years of service would bring an additional reward.
On that day, the idle white-robed young man finally finished watching the entire spectacle from start to finish. He appeared and landed lightly inside a wealthy mansion where all the residents were dead.
Finally, he sat side by side on a railing with a young maidservant.
The maidservant had been implicated by her mistress, who had been caught in an affair. The mistress's husband and his righteous sworn brother had fought their way to the back courtyard. The maidservant happened to pass by and was stabbed to death with a dagger.
The mistress fared even worse. The enraged master of the house had her flayed alive.
At the time, the sworn brother who had exposed his sister-in-law's affair with the other man had a burning look in his eyes. The hand holding the dagger trembled slightly.
The first time he saw his sister-in-law, she had smiled like a flower. After greeting him, she had gracefully walked toward the inner courtyard. As she lifted the curtain and stepped over the threshold, her embroidered shoe caught on the door and slipped off. The woman stopped but didn't turn around. She used her toes to flip the shoe back on, stepped over the threshold, and walked away slowly.
After that, he had always restrained himself and endured in silence. But he couldn't help stealing glances at her. And that was how he had been able to witness that ugly affair.
Cui Dongshan placed his hands on his knees, as if chatting idly with the pitiable maidservant beside him—though she was long dead. "The world in the future might be better. It might be worse. Who knows?"
---
A mixed-blood youth, carrying a huge sword rack on his back—each broken sword spreading out like a peacock's tail—walked slowly with his master toward that Sword Qi Great Wall.
Earlier, his master had taken him to the most forbidden place in the world. There, thrones hung empty, some high, some low.
His master had taken him to stand on the spot that belonged to his master.
"Master, between that Old Sword Immortal and your friend A Liang, whose sword is faster?"
"Hard to say."
"Master, why did you choose me as your disciple? I've never been able to figure it out. Before today, I didn't even dare to think about it."
"Because you are the one in our Barren Wasteland who has the hope of drawing a sword the fastest. You might not become the swordsman who stands at the very front of the battlefield, but in the future, you will surely become the swordsman who holds the line at the very end."
The youth said fearfully, "How can I compare to Master?"
The man grabbed the youth's neck and slowly lifted him up. "You can question yourself for being a slow-witted waste, for being a mixed-blood with a bad background. But you cannot question my judgment."
The man, holding the youth by the neck with one hand, pointed with the other, explaining whose positions those empty thrones were.
Finally, he released his grip, his expression blank. "What you need to achieve is this: if one day you take a disliking to them, you just need to use one fewer sword strike than your master."
"The moment I determine that you will never be able to do that in your lifetime, you can die. Not everyone with your same talent gets such an opportunity. So cherish every moment you have now."
---
A young Daoist wearing a lotus crown and a young Daoist without a crown began to travel the world together.
They both changed into Daoist robes that made their lineage unrecognizable.
The former had only one requirement for the latter: do as you please. In all actions, just follow your heart. Don't worry about the consequences.
But there was a prerequisite: know your limits. Don't go looking for death.
The young Daoist hesitated and asked a question. "Can I indiscriminately kill the innocent?"
The young Daoist smiled and nodded, replying, "Of course." He paused, then added four words. "That would be best."
The young Daoist nodded.
Then the young Daoist asked, "Do you know what 'innocent' means? Do you know what 'indiscriminately kill' means?"
The young Daoist fell into deep thought.
The young Daoist shook his head. "You used to know, even if it was a bit superficial. But now you don't know at all. So it seems it's not good for a person to be too clever. I once had a similar question, and the answer I got was far better than yours. Much better."
The youth's face turned pale.
Because this little senior brother...
He was the sect leader, Lu Chen. The current master of the White Jade Capital.
Even though the youth was the Dao Ancestor's final disciple.
Face to face with this little senior brother, who could slap him into a pulp of flesh and blood, the youth felt a deep reverence.
When they first left the White Jade Capital, Lu Chen had said with a smile, "You've tasted the small sufferings of struggling at the bottom. You've enjoyed the great blessings of being an immortal at the White Jade Capital. You've died once. Now it's time to learn how to live well. It's time to walk the middle path between the mountains and the mortal world."
At the time, he had asked Lu Chen, "Little senior brother, will it take many years?"
Lu Chen replied at the time, "If you learn quickly, a few decades will be enough. If slowly, a few hundred or a thousand years is normal."
Finally, Lu Chen had said with a grin, "Don't worry. If you die, your little senior brother's Dao arts are not bad. I can save you one more time."
In truth, after the young Daoist was resurrected, this physical shell was simply a naturally born Dao bone, rare in the world. His cultivation advanced by leaps and bounds. He was "born" at the Cave Dwelling Realm.
Moreover, in three of his natal acupoints, three immortal weapons lay quietly, waiting for him to slowly refine them.
According to Lu Chen, they were gifts prepared long ago by three senior brothers. He should accept them with peace of mind.
In addition, the lowest-grade possession the young Daoist owned was a semi-immortal Daoist robe called "Lotus Seed."
Its grade was relatively the lowest, but now, in the entire Azure World, aside from a handful of accomplished immortals, probably no one knew the origin of this robe.
Simply put, wearing this Daoist robe, even if the young Daoist went to the other three worlds and entered the most dangerous places, the higher the realm of the person in charge, the safer the young Daoist would be.
Even if he stretched his neck out for someone to kill, they would have to hold their nose and respectfully escort him out of their territory.
One day, with nothing to do, Lu Chen was playing a game of Go alone above the clouds. The young Daoist sat cross-legged beside him.
Lu Chen smiled and said, "Qi Jingchun played one final game of Go in his life. Black and white stones, crisscrossing patterns. Strict rules. It had already reached the endgame where the outcome was decided. When he decided to make the first, and only, irrational move in his life that broke the rules... then he never placed another stone. But he saw on the Go board a radiant light, a seven-colored crystal."
The young man asked curiously, "Little senior brother, did you see that yourself? Did you deduce it?"
Lu Chen shook his head. "No. Our master told me. And it was Qi Jingchun who told our master."
The young man was speechless.
Lu Chen squinted, smiled, reached out a hand, and gently placed it on the head of the youth, his little junior brother. "Qi Jingchun dared to give such great hope to a barefoot boy! What about you? And me?"
After a long journey through the mortal world, the youth had grown increasingly mature. Inspired, he blurted out, "That has nothing to do with me."
Lu Chen withdrew his hand and laughed heartily.
The two master-brothers continued their travels through this Azure World.
One day, the youth asked, "Little senior brother, by accompanying me on this aimless wandering and leaving the White Jade Capital, aren't you delaying important matters?"
The young Daoist shook his head and smiled. "In this world, there are never any big matters."
---
At the bamboo building on Fallen Mountain.
Cui Cheng had seldom left the second floor, but now he had come out.
Zhu Lian, Zheng Dafeng, and Wei Bo had all gathered.
In Wei Bo's hand was the parasol made of parasol tree leaves that Chen Ping'an had brought out from Lotus Flower Paradise back then.
Cui Cheng nodded, then said, "Bring Pei Qian over. We'll go in together. Since we've divided Lotus Flower Paradise into four, and we occupy one part, let Zhu Lian and Pei Qian go take a look first."
Wei Bo activated his innate divine ability. The charcoal-black girl, who had been practicing the Crazy Demon Sword Art in the backyard of Qilong Alley, suddenly found herself airborne, then landing outside the bamboo building. She was furious. "What the heck! I still have to copy books after I finish practicing my sword technique!"
Wei Bo said solemnly, "You and Zhu Lian are going to the Nanyuan Kingdom in Lotus Flower Paradise."
Pei Qian was dumbfounded.
Wei Bo opened the parasol, then let go of his hand.
Light treasure rays continuously flowed and cascaded down from the umbrella's surface.
Zhu Lian took Pei Qian's hand and walked into the light.
The next moment, Zhu Lian and Pei Qian stepped into the capital of Nanyuan Kingdom. Pei Qian rubbed her eyes. It was that street she knew so well. That alley was not far away.
It was drizzling.
Pei Qian brandished her walking stick wildly, laughing heartily.
An old Confucian scholar in azure robes flew through the air and landed.
The Nanyuan Kingdom's state preceptor, Zhong Qiu.
Zhu Lian glanced at him. "Yo, an expert."
Zhong Qiu didn't seem puzzled by the appearance of two "banished immortals" in the Nanyuan capital. Instead, he smiled and asked, "Where's Chen Ping'an?"
Pei Qian raised an eyebrow, puffed out her chest, and said with an air of seniority, "My master doesn't have time. He sent me, his first disciple, to come see you first!"
Then Pei Qian looked as if she had been struck by lightning. All her arrogance vanished.
She even felt cold in her hands and feet.
After that, she was in a daze until she left Lotus Flower Paradise. Only then did she somewhat recover.
Wei Bo and Zheng Dafeng both thought it was strange.
Zhu Lian shook his head, indicating they shouldn't ask.
That day, Pei Qian, for the first time in her life, took the initiative to climb to the second floor of the bamboo building. She announced her presence, and after receiving permission, she took off her boots, neatly placed them outside the threshold, and even leaned her walking stick against the outer wall instead of bringing it inside. She closed the door, sat cross-legged, and faced the barefoot old man.
The old man asked, "Looking for me about something? Or do you want to learn fist techniques from me?"
For some reason, the charcoal-black girl who hadn't grown up in all these years nodded vigorously. "I want to learn fist techniques!"
The old man asked, "Not afraid of hardship?"
Pei Qian's gaze was resolute. "Not even afraid of death!"
The old man scoffed. "Big talk. When the time comes, you'll be wailing and crying. There's no Chen Ping'an here on Fallen Mountain to protect you now. Once you decide to learn fist techniques from me, there's no turning back."
Pei Qian said solemnly, "I've thought it over. Even if I cry and regret it when the time comes, you have to beat me until I don't dare to cry or regret it!"
The old man seemed somewhat surprised by this answer. He laughed heartily. Finally, looking into the little girl's eyes, he said, "One last question. Why do you want to learn fist techniques?"
Pei Qian clenched her fists tightly. After a long silence, she finally spoke. "I, Pei Qian, can afford to lose to anyone. But there's one person I absolutely cannot lose to! Absolutely not!"
The old man gave an "Oh?" He said, "Alright. From today onward, you are my, Cui Cheng's, final personal disciple. Don't worry, there's no need for some damn master-disciple title."
Pei Qian raised her hand and wiped away her tears. She nodded heavily, stood up, and bowed to the old man in gratitude.
The barefoot old man, who had never stood on ceremony with Chen Ping'an, actually stood up. He clasped his hands behind his back and solemnly accepted this bow.
Pei Qian planted one foot forward and one foot back, opening a fist posture. "Come!"
Cui Cheng flickered and appeared right before her. With one hand, he pressed the charcoal-black little girl's head against the wall. Pei Qian's entire skeleton creaked. Blood flowed from her seven orifices.
The old man smiled and asked, "Still want to learn?!"
Pei Qian roared, "I'll learn even if I die!"
The old man nodded. "Very good."
---
Back then, in the alley of the Nanyuan Kingdom's capital, a young man in azure robes had walked out, holding an oil-paper umbrella. His smile was gentle as he looked at Pei Qian. After a slight look of surprise, he said in a warm voice, "Pei Qian, long time no see."