Chapter 543: Ten Thousand Youths in His Eyes
The back mountain had many exotic flowers and rare grasses, but no birds, insects, or ants.
Moreover, Chen Ping'an noticed a small detail. Earlier, when they had first entered this immortal residence, they had seen cranes circling the mountain. But after the four of them ascended the mountain, the cranes had disappeared without a trace. Whether Chen Ping'an looked up from the foot of the mountain, or surveyed the landscape from the Taoist temple at the summit, or later followed Huang Shi and Sun Daoren in their treasure hunt, all the way to the back mountain here, he never caught another glimpse of the cranes.
If there really was a transcendent expert overseeing this place, and assuming the worst-case scenario—that the master here harbored ill intentions toward all visitors—then that person was definitely a master of manipulating the human heart.
Ordinary folk, mountain woodcutters, might enter this mountain, catch a glimpse of the cranes, and think nothing more of it. They would be more awed by the subsequent white jade arched bridges, memorial archways, and plaques, seeing it all as a celestial paradise. Combined with the scattered bones and corpses everywhere, they would naturally take this place for an ownerless domain.
But for those who cultivate the Dao, what they witness with their own eyes, especially the first impression, influences their mind and temperament more deeply, silently and without their awareness.
From then on, no matter the realm, any qi practitioner would repeatedly ponder and analyze everything.
Chen Ping'an's first sight had been of green mountains, clear waters, and snow-white cranes. He was no exception. His first thought had been, "What a fine immortal residence, what a place of spiritual mountains and luminous waters."
Everything he saw afterward merely added the suffix "ruins" to the immortal residence.
The immortal residence remained an immortal residence; blessings and fortunes remained blessings and fortunes.
Clues were everywhere, extremely intricate, as if every place held hidden mechanisms. Seeing too many made one feel it was a tangled mess and too lazy to think much about it.
Chen Ping'an also didn't have many leads, but that sudden drop and rise of the strand of sword qi, combined with the possibility that the cranes were a cleverly crafted illusion, plus the inexplicable bursting of the string of bells at Sun Daoren's waist, barely allowed him to string together a thread—or rather, a worst-case scenario.
This subtle temperament of first considering the best and worst at two ends of a line was precisely the key that had allowed Chen Ping'an to walk alive out of the Ghost Valley of Skeleton Beach under the watchful eye of Gao Cheng at Jingguan City.
Worldly affairs are complex. What one sees and doesn't see, what one thinks about and doesn't think about—these constitute learning and refinement of temperament.
Of course, there are also those who stumble upon things by accident, either dying in ignorance or obtaining opportunities in a daze.
The three continued to explore the back mountain. Compared to the life-and-death struggles at the front mountain, at least on the surface, it was much more leisurely.
As for the fate of that Di Yuanfeng, Chen Ping'an felt no burden at all. The man was neither his father, mother, nor ancestor. If Di Yuanfeng had been a kind-hearted person, Chen Ping'an might have looked after him or made a fair deal.
Beside the path, there was a green bamboo that caught their attention. In the eyes of the three, it stood lonely and desolate, its shadow swaying.
The bamboo trunk was as thick as a bowl mouth, and every bamboo leaf was a vivid green, almost dripping. This wasn't just a figure of speech; it was truly as if they were about to drip. On the tips of many leaves, water droplets had condensed. When the wind blew, they seemed ready to fall. Just as the three were focusing their gaze on this bamboo, a drop of emerald-green water fell to the ground and instantly dissipated. Chen Ping'an looked closely—there was great subtlety to it. Although it wasn't like the green glazed tiles and Taoist temple green bricks that nurtured the essence of water fortune, it had still reached the exaggerated stage where spiritual energy had condensed into water.
When Sun Daoren passed by, he gently tapped the bamboo with his finger, pressed his ear against it, and let out a surprised "Oh." He said, "There's something special here."
While the two were staring at the green bamboo, Chen Ping'an turned around, took off his bundle, first retrieved the Sword-Nurturing Gourd from his Sun Treasure Pouch, held it in his hand, then slung the bundle back over his shoulder. He said with a smile, "Trouble Sun Daozhang to shake the bamboo a bit so I can collect some water from the leaf tips."
Sun Daoren, after all, was a genuine Sea-Viewing Realm cultivator and could roughly gauge the depth of things. He shook his head and laughed, "Fellow Daoist Chen, I advise you not to bother. These bamboo leaf water droplets born of spiritual energy—ordinary vessels cannot contain this dense spiritual energy. Even if you were to pick a handful of leaves with the droplets and store them carefully, once they leave this strange bamboo, they won't last."
Even as the tall, thin Daoist said this, he didn't delay in taking off his Daoist robe bundle and retrieving a blue porcelain bottle painted with a hermit under a pine tree scene.
Huang Shi was annoyed by the two dawdling and kicked the bamboo trunk hard. Water droplets fell like light rain. Sun Daoren laughed heartily, shifted his form, stepped in an astral stride, and collected the water with the plum-blue porcelain bottle.
Chen Ping'an didn't want any droplets to fall to the ground and dissipate either. Without competing with Sun Daoren, he used a "water technique" to gather many of the droplets about to hit the mud into a thread and slowly collected them into the Sword-Nurturing Gourd.
Huang Shi glanced at the black-robed elder's technique but saw no suspicious flaws, so he let it go.
Since Chen Ping'an had taken out the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, he didn't put it away again but hung it at his waist. The spiritual water droplets condensed from heaven and earth's qi totaled only about seven or eight ounces of wine, yet they carried a weighty, gloomy heft of over ten catties.
The three continued on their way.
Chen Ping'an looked back at the green bamboo.
Could it be like the bamboo grove Wei Bo had carefully planted on Qidun Mountain? If they were to trace their origins, did they all come from the Qingshen Mountain of the Bamboo Sea Paradise?
Otherwise, according to the "Book of Immortals" purchased years ago from Inverted Mountain, among the many immortal bamboo varieties in the Haoran World, dozens of exotic species, none seemed as miraculous as this bamboo in condensing water fortune.
What a pity, just like the stone chess table, it couldn't be carried away.
Sun Daoren felt it wasn't enough. He reached out his hand, smiled, and said, "Bamboo is hollow and connects to the divine; it lightens the body and supplements qi. In my early cultivation, I read widely and once saw an ancient text that said boiling bamboo leaves for tea is most thirst-quenching and clears the heart. During the height of summer, just a handful of bamboo leaves, plus a few lotus seeds from the mountain, and a couple of cups of tea down, would make one feel as ethereal as an immortal."
Chen Ping'an glanced at Sun Daoren, then at the tall green bamboo, which remained motionless, not giving him any face.
Since it had come to this, some flattering words really couldn't come out of his mouth.
Sun Daoren withdrew his hand, his expression calm. "Forget it. I'll leave this opportunity for later comers."
Huang Shi poured salt on the wound. "If these bamboo leaves were refined into a life-bound object by a cultivator of water techniques in the lower five realms, they might become a priceless treasure. The treasure is right before your eyes. Be careful: if Heaven gives and you don't take, you'll suffer the consequences. Sun Daozhang, are you sure you won't pick a few? If not for tea, you could give them as gifts to the juniors at the Infant Mountain Thunder God Residence. That would be a fine present upon returning to your sect."
Sun Daoren said airily, "Cultivation concerns the foundations. How can one casually give away opportunities? I'm not a preaching master to those juniors. Gifts too heavy would actually be detrimental. Enough, enough."
Chen Ping'an murmured appreciatively, "Sun Daozhang's words are pearls of wisdom, thought-provoking."
Sun Daoren carefully tucked the blue porcelain bottle into his sleeve, walked slowly, stroked his beard, and smiled, looking inscrutable.
Huang Shi found this itinerant Daoist of Wuling Country a bit hard to take. From start to finish, ever since learning that Sun Daoren was a disciple of True Person Jingming of Thunder God Residence, he had been fawning over Sun Daoren.
Suddenly, Huang Shi, using the movement technique of the Golden Body Realm and the force of a fifth-realm fist—slightly holding back—assessed the other's physique as a qi practitioner, then without warning, punched the black-robed elder beside him. With a loud bang, the latter was sent flying, tumbling and rolling. He struggled to get up, looking dazed, and sat on the ground. Suddenly his throat moved, and he turned his head to spit out a mouthful of coagulated blood. He seemed to have just come to his senses. Standing up, he hid his hands in his sleeves—clearly he had already pinched a talisman between his fingers, and ripples of qi emanated from his cuffs. He burst out cursing, "Huang, are you looking for death?!"
Huang Shi was greatly reassured in his heart. Truly a useless fool.
Sun Daoren was so startled that he quickly leaped several zhang away, also pinching one of the offensive talismans he had just bought from Fellow Daoist Chen.
The three formed a triangular standoff.
Huang Shi didn't even look at the black-robed elder. Instead, he turned to Sun Daoren and said with a smile, "Sun Daozhang, the human heart is a demonic lair; we must be vigilant. You and I, along with Young Master Qin, are allies who know each other's backgrounds. But this man we met by chance along the way—if he's a master at feigning ignorance and is a scourge of a rogue cultivator, we'll be caught off guard. In the end, we'll lose all our treasures and opportunities, and even our lives, all for someone else's gain. Would you want that, Sun Daozhang?"
Sun Daoren communicated to Chen Ping'an through his mind's lake ripples: "Fellow Daoist Chen, what do you say? Do we fight? This Huang Shi is no good man. If things come to blows, we two are tied together. Don't hold back."
Comparatively, Sun Daoren trusted the black-robed elder more. Having gotten along with him, it had something to do with good and evil, but not entirely. More than that, he felt this Fellow Daoist Chen had shallow cultivation and posed little threat. Of course, if the black-robed elder had been shrewd, mercenary, and fickle, Sun Daoren wouldn't have been willing to cooperate sincerely, risking his life alongside him against Huang Shi.
Even as he spoke to Chen Ping'an through his mind, Sun Daoren said aloud in a muddling tone, "Fellow Daoist Chen, what Brother Huang did was a bit excessive. But the situation is unpredictable now. If we fall out among ourselves first, that would truly be playing into someone else's hands. How about this: you both give me some face. Fellow Daoist Chen, calm down. I'll have Brother Huang apologize, and we'll let this matter pass. What do you think?"
Chen Ping'an said angrily, "Not happening! I took that punch, suffered this unprovoked disaster, and suffered great damage to my vitality. If an apology is all it takes, then let Huang Shi take one of my thunder talismans, and we'll call it even!"
Huang Shi smirked, opened a corner of his bundle, took out an item, and lightly tossed it toward the black-robed elder. "If an apology isn't enough, I'll add a gift."
The black-robed elder's eyes lit up. After a moment's hesitation, he still kept one hand hidden in his sleeve with a talisman, while the other hand came out of the sleeve and reached out to catch the antique bronze mirror.
Sun Daoren's expression changed drastically. He quickly warned via mind voice, "Don't take it!"
But it was too late.
Huang Shi stamped his foot, and with his peak sixth-realm martial cultivation, instantly appeared before the black-robed elder and threw a punch.
The black-robed elder's eyes went wide, and he stood as dumb as a wooden chicken, totally rigid. Not only did he fail to catch the gifted bronze mirror, but he was also about to suffer the punch.
But Huang Shi abruptly stopped his fist. Only a burst of fist force brushed across the poor wretch's face, causing his sideburns to flutter back.
Huang Shi actually withdrew his punch, jiggled his heavy bundle, turned, and walked away. After a few steps, he turned his head and said with a smile, "Brother Chen, I'm giving you this bronze mirror."
Sun Daoren sighed inwardly.
How had he ended up with such an unwise ally?
This was bad.
The road ahead wouldn't be easy.
Sun Daoren saw that Fellow Daoist Chen gave him an apologetic smile, then crouched down, picked up the fallen bronze mirror, and put it into a rather flat green cloth bundle.
Even though the man tried hard to hide his panic and fear, his hands were trembling lightly.
Sun Daoren watched with a headache, shook his head, and turned to follow Huang Shi. Perhaps feeling exasperated at the man's misfortune and anger at his lack of ambition, he spoke with some indignation via mind voice: "Fellow Daoist Chen! From now on, remember your position. Don't get too close to that Huang Shi. Better to keep me between you and him. If Huang Shi gets close to you, all the talismans you have will be useless. Don't you even understand such a basic principle—that a qi practitioner must not let a pure martial artist get close?!"
"Sun Daozhang, I understand the principle, but when it comes to actually fighting Huang Shi, my mind goes blank and my limbs won't obey. My speed and reflexes just can't keep up with these principles."
The man, having obtained the bronze mirror, quickly caught up to Sun Daoren, slowed his pace so he wouldn't walk abreast, and just followed closely behind. Sun Daoren sighed and said no more. At least he learned from his mistakes, not completely hopeless.
Chen Ping'an walked at the rear and lightly wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.
Ordinary martial artists walking the jianghu, if unlucky, often get beaten till their faces are covered in blood.
But Chen Ping'an had to do it to himself.
Still, thinking of that ancient bronze mirror with years of history, Chen Ping'an had no complaints.
The seal script was very small. On the front it read "Repel Weapons, None Can Stand"; on the back, "Ward Off Misfortune, Eliminate Calamity."
It was undoubtedly an evil-repelling mirror, and an archaistic one at that, because when Chen Ping'an examined it closely, he found the extremely faint words "Mansion Family Made." But that actually made it the most valuable.
Because daring to add a surname plus "made" on a bronze mirror artifact was a guarantee of rank.
That Book of Immortals had relevant records about this. Among them, archaistic mirrors like those with sea-beast grape patterns marked "Li Store Made" and Bright Light mirrors or Immortal Night Tour mirrors marked "Nalan Sanshan Made" were the most priceless. As for later copies of copies, those were often items used to cheat half-baked qi practitioners. Even if extremely exquisite and flawless, they were still big pitfalls. If someone thought they had found a bargain and resold it at a high price, that was fine. But if they eagerly refined it into a life-bound object, they would probably regret it bitterly and spit blood.
Chen Ping'an had barely stopped himself from asking Sun Daoren to touch it first, under the pretense of helping to appraise it, before he properly put it away in his bundle.
This Sun Daozhang's hands, like Sui Jingcheng's, must have been blessed, right?
Not to mention this acquisition—the small cage that was likely a Dragon King basket and bamboo whip—but that string of pagoda bells hanging at the tall, thin Daoist's waist was obviously no ordinary item.
Otherwise, outside the mountaintop Taoist temple, those pagoda bells wouldn't have shattered on their own to give a warning.
On the back mountain, buildings were far fewer than the row upon row at the front mountain. Those that could be called majestic and spectacular were even rarer—only three.
The three descended the mountain. Looking around, it was sparse and scattered.
That saved a lot of trouble.
Following the old rule, Huang Shi went to one treasure site—a nearby complex of palaces and temples. Sun Daoren went to another site—a solitary tall building. Chen Ping'an got allocated a hall near the foot of the mountain.
After parting with Sun Daoren, Chen Ping'an walked unhurriedly, as if on a leisure stroll through the mountains. He took off the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, took a sip of the spiritual water from the bamboo leaves, and felt truly refreshed and carefree.
It was just a bit bland in flavor, lacking the taste of wine.
But thinking that these green bamboo leaf tip water droplets, dense with spiritual energy, were precious and rare, far more valuable than immortal wine, he suddenly found the taste exquisite, with an endless aftertaste.
This sip wasn't just tea—it was a handful of immortal coins! How could it not be delicious?
Looking back, he saw no trace of Huang Shi or Sun Daoren. Chen Ping'an tucked away the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, arched his back, and suddenly dashed forward. In an instant, he vaulted over a high wall and landed silently.
It was as if he were in harmony with heaven and earth, allowing him to be so soundless and still, stirring no extra ripples.
---
At the foot of the front mountain, near the white jade arched bridge, a chaotic melee was underway.
To put it in the local parlance of Beiju Continent, "spilling brains and drinking them like wine is the mark of a true hero."
The battle for the bridge, a narrow encounter, was extremely brutal.
Even the Lotus Country imperial attendant, who had been treasure-hunting on the mountain, heard the commotion and had to abandon the easily obtainable opportunities to rush to the battlefield.
But this Lotus Country attendant was clever. He picked out some items he deemed valuable and hid them on a beam in a hall. The rest of the items he casually wrapped together and placed in a corner of another building. Later, when he returned with Bai Bi and the young marquis, no one would notice anything amiss. As for how to eventually smuggle the hidden treasures out of this place, he would take it one step at a time.
Gao Ling had already taken out a suit of Armor Pill, wearing a set of "Divine Man Dew-Catching Armor." Together with the marquis's family attendant, he did his best to protect Zhan Qing's safety.
Zhan Qing, a Cave Dwelling Realm qi practitioner trained under a Nascent Soul great cultivator, pretended to be panicked and flustered. His disguise as the top playboy of Northern Pavilion Country, combined with his earlier arrogant words, was very effective. Almost no one believed that this noble scion of Northern Pavilion Country was actually a solid mid-five-realm cultivator with two extremely powerful offensive treasures.
The originally one-sided battle situation slightly improved after the Lotus Country attendant joined.
Zhan Qing hated the female cultivator wearing a bamboo hat and Cloudscrape City Dharma robe the most. It was she who had been the first to cross the bridge, ruining his plan to sit back and reap the rewards.
Furthermore, this concealed female cultivator acted with great restraint during the subsequent slaughter. She neither paired off to fight the Golden Body Realm martial artist nor sat by watching others die. Every time Gao Ling was about to kill someone with a punch, she would interfere. In less than the time it takes to burn an incense stick, using two heavy defensive treasures, she had saved seven or eight people from Gao Ling and the family attendant martial artist.
That female cultivator's two defensive life-bound objects were: one, a green jade bracelet swirling with treasure light, spinning unpredictably; the other, a bright yellow embroidered cushion with five golden dragons on colored clouds. Even when Gao Ling's fist struck it, it only dented and fluttered loudly; the fist force couldn't shatter it. But after one punch, the luster of the five golden dragons would dim a bit. However, the bracelet and cushion alternated. When the cushion flew back into her key qi mansion, once soaked with spiritual qi, the golden luster quickly recovered.
The surrounding forty-plus people all attacked together with their offensive treasures in a grand display. If not for the cultivators' uncoordinated cooperation, and some fourth- and fifth-realm pure martial artists not daring to get too close for close combat—mostly using crossbows for long-range attacks or sending fist force to harass the opposite bank—the coordination would have been tighter, making it even harder for Gao Ling and his group. But once mountain and marsh rogue cultivators chose to fight desperately, even Zhan Qing, who hadn't seen much blood, let alone the military-born Gao Ling and the pampered family attendant of the marquis's household, would feel palpitations.
The marquis's family attendant had been struck by a secret treasure, which pierced his abdomen, and blood flowed endlessly. But relying on his Golden Body physique, he forced himself to keep going. In contrast, Gao Ling, skilled in battlefield combat and familiar with being surrounded by a forest of spears and halberds, managed to come through relatively safely. As for the Lotus Country imperial attendant, he was worse off. A barrage of offensive artifacts rained down on him. If not for Gao Ling's help in scattering most of them with his fist force, and Zhan Qing sacrificing the secret treasure folding fan in his hand, which conjured a celestial screen painting of a snowy night path and a riding procession, the old immortal from Lotus Country would have died on the spot.
But Gao Ling and the other Golden Body Realm martial artist were no pushovers. Even with Wu Qun of Colorful Sparrow Manor helping to defend against fist force, they still killed seven or eight people, all with grisly deaths, no exceptions—like being torn apart by five horses on an execution ground.
Therefore, the swift arrival of Bai Bi, a Golden Core earth immortal of Water Dragon Sect, was not just a luxury but a lifeline.
But just as Bai Bi sacrificed two life-bound treasures—one offensive, one defensive—the young manor lord of Colorful Sparrow Manor, Sun Qing, rose into the wind and took the initiative to fight the grand sect scion one-on-one.
Around Bai Bi, a set of eighteen "Triumph Over Evil" coins bestowed by the Water Dragon Sect's Patriarch Hall floated. Bai Bi herself was a genius cultivator naturally suited to water techniques. The seal scripts on those coins all had profound meanings, containing a trace of residual national fortune. They had once been the founding coinage items of an ancient dynasty along the Ji River, then scattered in all directions—some placed on beams of ancient Taoist temples, some buried in ancient tombs, some stored in later imperial treasuries. Water Dragon Sect had collected two sets, and after accumulating ten sets, they were awarded to Bai Bi.
In truth, even within the Water Dragon Sect's Patriarch Hall, these triumph-over-evil coins were considered good items, effective for both offense and defense.
Yet Bai Bi still sacrificed a heavy artifact from the mountain: a zither made by a master zither craftsman in Beiju Continent's history, named "Scattered Snow."
After the two Golden Core cultivators joined the fight, the battle became even fiercer.
Then that damned hoarse voice shouted loudly again, "Let's kill the young marquis first!"
Zhan Qing was furious. That guy was truly troublesome.
Each time he spoke, it had the effect of a four-ounce weight moving a thousand catties.
But the other party clearly used some secret mountain method, and with the battle's intensity and chaos, Zhan Qing's group couldn't clearly identify where he was.
The military general Gao Ling and the two attendants wouldn't and couldn't just watch themselves get battered by spells and artifacts. But if they focused too much on protecting him, they would inevitably neglect other things. A slip could affect the whole situation, easily causing Bai Bi to be distracted. Zhan Qing dared to assert that as soon as one Golden Body Realm martial artist on their side died, or if someone was severely injured and temporarily lost combat effectiveness, having to withdraw from the battlefield and return up the mountain, that bunch of red-eyed rogue cultivators and martial artists would definitely fight even more desperately.
In fact, Zhan Qing had from the beginning reminded Gao Ling and the two attendants via mind voice that every time they killed together, if possible, they should pick and choose, focusing on wiping out a small hill of three or four people clustered together. This would both have a deterrent effect and prevent the other side from becoming desperate to avenge friends. But man proposes, heaven disposes. Zhan Qing had many plans, but perhaps because he hadn't consulted the almanac before leaving, everything went wrong. As the battle dragged on, Gao Ling and the two attendants could no longer act so cautiously. They picked a target and killed, but the enemy had numbers on their side and didn't care about anything—they just threw all sorts of messy offensive treasures and insidious techniques at them first.
Only at this moment did Zhan Qing begin to regret his arrogance.
He had considered seizing all the local opportunities as easy as taking something from his pocket.
He should have proceeded step by step, breaking them one by one, instead of thinking that his group could easily kill even a Nascent Soul cultivator, so why worry about a rabble of rogue cultivators?
The result was that after he swaggeringly blocked everyone's path, mimicking the epic tale of one man holding the pass against ten thousand, he started tasting bitter medicine.
It wasn't that Zhan Qing's earlier calculations were poor. But on the path of cultivation, when a one-in-ten-thousand "what if" actually arrives, it can turn everything into nothing.
Bai Bi suddenly realized that she, a legitimate Golden Core of Water Dragon Sect, was no match for this female cultivator hiding her face.
Bai Bi said angrily via mind voice, "Sun Qing of Colorful Sparrow Manor! Do you dare to kill me? Are you not afraid of making an enemy of Water Dragon Sect? Can your Colorful Sparrow Manor at Peach Blossom Ferry withstand a few slaps from our sect's Upper Five Realm patriarch?"
The reason Bai Bi didn't shout this aloud was because, as an official registered immortal master, she had more concerns and calculations than a lone rogue cultivator.
Sun Qing used her offensive treasure to scatter the "snowflakes" produced by the zither "Scattered Snow" strings and replied with a smile, "What are you talking about? I don't understand."
Bai Bi was furious. "Sun Qing! Are you really going to fight to the death with me?"
With those eighteen triumph-over-evil coins guarding her, Bai Bi wasn't too badly off. Moreover, this set of formation treasures was both offensive and defensive. Clearly, Bai Bi hadn't gone all out yet. Besides, the registered immortal masters of a sect-level Patriarch Hall always had one or two ultimate techniques for mutual destruction or escape. So Bai Bi's anger was more a matter of the same mindset as Zhan Qing's—losing the favorable position of monopolizing benefits and losing face as a Golden Core of a major sect. But compared to Zhan Qing, who was already in danger at the bridgehead, Bai Bi's situation was much better.
Sun Qing still didn't own up and said cheerfully, "We mountain-and-marsh rogue cultivators with nothing to lose live by the motto: 'If you die, your cock points to the sky; if you don't die, you live forever.'"
For a female cultivator to say this was really too much.
Bai Bi took a deep breath, and instantly her mind became as calm as still water, without a single stray thought. She could even completely ignore Zhan Qing's situation.
Since the rules and reasoning of a registered immortal master couldn't be discussed, and both were Golden Core peers, they would have to settle it on the basis of cultivation and combat.
Although Sun Qing looked composed—far more relaxed and indifferent than Bai Bi, who had only recently become a Golden Core—in reality, this youngest Golden Core manor lord in Colorful Sparrow Manor's history was not the least bit relaxed. Facing a young genius from a sect-level immortal clan with deep foundations, Sun Qing was waiting for an opportunity—a moment for a single fatal strike. If that didn't work, then they would sit down and talk as registered immortal masters.
If the other side's Dao was higher and killed her, Sun Qing would have no regrets.
I can kill others, and others can kill me.
That was why that sword cultivator who looked like a schoolteacher, when they traveled together back then, had said that there was no one in the world who couldn't die.
But that land dragon of Beiju Continent had actually said the second half: "But everyone in the world can be reasoned with."
Sun Qing had never really taken that second half to heart, thinking it had no merit.
But she liked him, so she didn't argue with him.
Of course, if she truly tried to debate principles with Liu Jinglong, she would only end up suffering.
She couldn't win an argument with him.
Back then, when Liu Jinglong was still a Golden Core sword cultivator, he had used nothing but his glib tongue to reason with an old Jade Purity Realm monster who was about to massacre everyone. Not only that, but the old monster became a mix of friend and foe, and even escorted them for part of their journey, seeing them safely out of the territory. Last time Sun Qing "bumped into" Liu Jinglong, after exchanging pleasantries and running out of things to say, she casually asked him about that incident. Liu Jinglong said that on a recent trip south, he had met the old senior, and they had a pleasant conversation. The old senior had told him that after returning north, he should go back to Taihui Sword Sect and go into seclusion to break through realms, without needing to make another trip to that mountain.
---
At the place Chen Ping'an was searching, there weren't many bones on the ground. He silently apologized in his heart, then crouched down and gently weighed a hand bone. It was still the same as ordinary mortal bones—unlike the bones at Skeleton Beach, which had been soaked in yin aura and showed a luminous white. The same was true at the front mountain. This meant that the local cultivators, in life, had hardly been true Dao attainment holders. At the very least, they hadn't become earth immortals. There was another oddity: at the pavilion with the stone table and carved chessboard, the two players clearly wore Dharma robes of excellent rank, which Huang Shi had stripped off. But Chen Ping'an found that those two skeletons still lacked the golden essence of Golden Core quality.
Everywhere Chen Ping'an went, the winding paths led to secluded spots, still rich in spiritual qi, with no discomfort at all.
So Chen Ping'an wasted another Yang Energy Lighting Lamp Talisman.
Chen Ping'an's harvest was meager—just a few heavily cracked mountain artifacts. He really should have traveled with Sun Daoren.
He came to a dried-up pond, withered leaves rotting.
It looked like, if filled, it would have been a spring.
Chen Ping'an had been pondering the inscriptions at the entrance to the cavern. The person who left them must have entered and exited this immortal residence.
Either it was a reclusive expert leaving clues for later generations, or it was someone afraid the fish were too stupid to bite the bait.
Chen Ping'an climbed over the railing and jumped into the pond. The withered leaves crumbled at his touch, with no mystery to them.
The water fortune spiritual qi of the back mountain was indeed densest near that green bamboo.
What Fallen Mountain needed was a good bamboo.
If it could be like that valiant bamboo ancestor on Qidun Mountain, which Wei Bo had treasured so much, year after year spreading its branches and leaves, with bamboo roots stretching underground—father giving birth to son, son to grandson—then a lush grove of tall bamboo could appear for free.
Of course, in Chen Ping'an's eyes, Fallen Mountain lacked everything.
Chen Ping'an rubbed some soil between his fingers, but it quickly turned to dust and scattered.
He knew quite a bit about the Ji River in Beiju Continent.
But about more great rivers' inner secrets, temple incense rise and fall, and historical changes under heaven, he knew little.
He had only heard Wei Bo mention that Liuxia Continent once had a great east-west river flowing into the sea, winding for thirty thousand li. Wherever mountains and waters met, sages and earth immortals would emerge in waves.
There was also a river in Fuyao Continent that broke a levee of a larger waterway simply called "the River," seized its estuary, and within three hundred years, the entire great river disappeared. That meant all the water gods, river lords, and river wives along that great river lost their golden bodies. The enfeoffment rituals along a great river were extremely complex, far more than a dynasty's monarch enfeoffing mountain and river deities within his territory. It was said that documents had to be submitted to the Book.
Chen Ping'an looked around. Nothing stirred. He took off the Sword-Nurturing Gourd and took a big swig, drinking all the spiritual water inside. Then, his mind sank, his thoughts as small as a mustard seed, and he toured his Water Mansion.
He saw the gate of the Water Mansion wide open, no longer closed.
At his feet, a dark green stream flowed. From all over his body, line by line, streams of water gathered, turning into this brook, slowly flowing into the pond of the Water Mansion.
Those busy little green-clad boys didn't even glance at the honored guest who was the greatest contributor. They rushed back and forth, full of joy.
This scene made Chen Ping'an a bit sad. Having him as the master, the little fellows were probably really scared of poverty.
Chen Ping'an also went to check on the Mountain Shrine. Inside the Water Mansion, an even finer stream trickled toward the key cavity of the Mountain Shrine. Since the essence of water fortune had already been intercepted in the Water Mansion, this stream was clear and colorless, no longer with that trace of dark green. This spiritual qi, dense as water, after reaching the qi mansion of the Mountain Shrine, began to seep into the ground, like sweet rain soaking the earth.
Chen Ping'an thought a bit, then withdrew his mind, no longer lingering in this treasureless mansion. With the cultivation base and pace befitting a Fellow Daoist Chen, he ran all the way, secretly returning to that green bamboo likely originating from Qingshen Mountain. He pressed his palm against the trunk, gave it a light shake, and the bamboo swayed gently. Then, holding the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, he waved his sleeve and collected the remaining half of the bamboo leaf water droplets into the gourd.
Chen Ping'an was quite proud of himself.
He was indeed an expert at finding bargains.
Then he tucked away the Sword-Nurturing Gourd and started climbing the bamboo. But to his surprise, the slender branches, which seemed like even a child could snap them, were not easy to break off.
Chen Ping'an looked toward the distant palace. Huang Shi stood on a wall, having been watching him for quite a while.
"Realizing this belatedly," Chen Ping'an grinned and waved.
Huang Shi stepped down and landed back on the ground.
What a pitiful wretch, crazy for money but with no way to earn it.
With Huang Shi gone from watching, Chen Ping'an tried bending the bamboo branches to pick leaves. With his current assumed cultivation, he could barely manage it. So he picked handful after handful, stuffing them into one of his cross-body bundles, until the once-flat bundle was bulging.
Huang Shi, the martial artist, had moved to another spot to continue watching the man hugging the bamboo. He was thoroughly impressed. If this guy was some legendary reclusive expert, he, Huang Shi, would gladly cut his own throat with Di Yuanfeng's Dharma blade.
Only after Huang Shi had truly left did Chen Ping'an begin to move. He pressed two fingers together and struck like lightning, cutting off bamboo branches of varying heights and quickly stashing them into his Sun Treasure Pouch.
In his Sun and Inch Treasures, the green glazed tiles and large green bricks really couldn't fit anymore. These slender bamboo branches were perfect for filling the gaps.
After this great success, the Sun Treasure and Inch Treasure were now truly packed to the brim.
Chen Ping'an hugged the green bamboo and just stayed there, not sliding down for a long time.
He vaguely recalled his youth, climbing trees to catch cicadas with two others.
One was his best friend who always protected him; the other was a half-relative he was used to protecting.
Back then, life was poor, but month after month, year after year, they were carefree and without worries.
Chen Ping'an sighed.
He pulled his thoughts back.
Soon, a teasing voice came from afar: "Brother Chen? What are you doing?"
Chen Ping'an turned and laughed. "It's cool up here, and the view is good."
It was Di Yuanfeng, using the alias Qin Juyuan. His face was a bit pale, clearly having taken some serious injuries.
Juyuan, Giant Ape?
The largest ape under heaven—wasn't that the Mountain-Moving Ape?
So this name was a bit asking for trouble.
Di Yuanfeng didn't look further at this waterlogged black-robed elder. Instead, he looked toward the nearest palace complex and asked, "How did Sun Daozhang and Brother Huang do?"
Chen Ping'an said with a smile, "All three of us did pretty well."
Di Yuanfeng couldn't help glancing at the old man hugging the bamboo. The two bundles slung crosswise looked like they contained tiles or bricks. What, old man, are you in a hurry to go home and build a house and get a wife?
Too bad Chen Ping'an couldn't guess what he was thinking.
Otherwise, he would have sincerely given a thumbs up and praised him as a true clairvoyant.
---
Old True Person Huan Yun had already returned with a full load. One of his talisman Sun Treasure Pouches was stuffed.
The old Cloudscrape City Dragon Gate Realm attendant was also quite satisfied, carrying a big pack and two bundles in his hands, his face barely able to hide his joy.
The two old men met and stood on the top floor of a pavilion, overlooking the battle at the mountain gate.
The old attendant laughed. "A fine dog-eat-dog fight."
Huan Yun smiled and said nothing.
On the path of cultivation, one slow step often leads to being slow at every step.
If Shen Zhenze's two direct disciples hadn't had him as a guardian and had entered this place first—arriving later than the young marquis of Northern Pavilion Country and his group—they would have had to risk their lives down there as well.
But Huan Yun had a keen eye. He immediately saw traces of the two major cultivators of Colorful Sparrow Manor—most likely Immortal Sun Qing and the Law Enforcement Patriarch Wu Qun.
As for the young female cultivator flying in the air with an ancient zither, the zither, combined with her technique, was clearly the "Scattered Snow" zither.
That zither had once been the life-bound object of a Water Dragon Sect Nascent Soul female cultivator, who had fought a spectacular battle by the water. Using the zither and her geographical advantage, she had nearly suffocated an old Nascent Soul of the same realm.
In the hands of this current Water Dragon Sect Golden Core female cultivator, it was only displaying fifty or sixty percent of its unique power.
The old attendant asked quietly, "Should we take a detour to that caisson ceiling and leave quietly? Or go take a look at the back mountain?"
Huan Yun smiled. "We are guardians. Let those two children decide. We only need to hide our forms and not wade into troubled waters. This trip should be worry-free."
Huan Yun glanced at the sky above, then lowered his gaze to the distant border of this small world.
The anomaly Bai Bi had noticed, this old True Person had confirmed much earlier.
But at the entrance caisson ceiling, he had secretly buried a hidden talisman underground. As long as the talisman was fine, the retreat route was still there.
Moreover, although this place was full of secrets, the aura seemed without any filth or evil, not a trace of baleful energy. This relieved the old True Person greatly.
The mountain and water of a place—their qi images—are the hardest to fake.
No matter if it was a Nascent Soul mountain demon creating a dazzling illusory immortal secret realm, in the eyes of Huan Yun, who was skilled in the talisman craft, clues could be found and detected early.
The Daoist sects of the Haoran world had many factions in early times, a glorious scene of a hundred flowers blooming.
But now, many once-prosperous branches have withered, become insignificant, or even gradually lost to history.
For example, the once most flourishing lineage of Zhongtu Daoist Sword Immortals—that was true grandness. At that time, in Beiju Continent, even though there were sword immortals as thick as clouds, they still dared not claim to occupy eighty percent of the world's sword qi fortune. And among the early "Four Hard-to-Deal-With Ghosts" of the mountains, Daoist Sword Immortals held a place, alongside sword cultivators and credit lenders. Back then, there was no mention of the Master Talisman Chamber. The Daoist Sword Immortal lineage never considered themselves sword cultivators.
Huan Yun sighed over the changes in the Daoist sects. As he watched the flesh and blood flying at the foot of the mountain, he felt a wave of melancholy.
In the eyes of this old True Person, those fighting desperately for opportunities at the mountain gate were all juniors, no older than children.
Huan Yun suddenly thought of a line from a poetry sage: "In his eyes, ten thousand youths, their intentions all treacherous."
Later poets, reading this line, had annotated: "Treacherous is the opposite of gallant. Thus, this phrase reveals the unfathomable human heart—the treacherous paths of the human mind are far more perilous than the rugged roads of a thousand-mile mountain."
Huan Yun also recalled his own flicker of greed and murderous intent earlier, and he felt helpless.
In the eyes of the Three Religions' sages, who among them is not a youth in their eyes?
Huan Yun suddenly said, "You go protect them as they seek opportunities further in. I'll go to the mountain foot and try to mediate, so fewer people die."
The old attendant wanted to speak but stopped.
His mind raced. After weighing the pros and cons, he understood the old True Person's good intentions and nodded.
Unless their Cloudscrape City group left immediately, when the mess at the mountain foot—especially if that Water Dragon Sect heir accidentally died—the thunderous fury of an Upper Five Realm cultivator from Water Dragon Sect would descend, covering Northern Pavilion Country and Lotus Country. Colorful Sparrow Manor, Cloudscrape City—none would escape. Perhaps, the more one gained today, the heavier the burden later. Moreover, if the old True Person could help extricate both sides from the deadlock and make them negotiate an acceptable solution, this would be a deed of goodwill earned solely by Huan Yun. Water Dragon Sect, Colorful Sparrow Manor, and the Northern Pavilion Country Marquisate would all acknowledge it.
Huan Yun handed a talisman to the old Cloudscrape City attendant and said with a smile, "If trouble arises, activate the talisman, and I'll come immediately."
The Dragon Gate Realm old attendant put away the talisman and vanished in a flash.
Huan Yun's mind was not at ease. "Going to stir up mud and play the nice guy—I hope I don't bungle it and become a shitstick detested by both sides."
---
After Huan Yun appeared and made his move.
He didn't help either side, yet he helped both. He activated talismans one after another, doing his best to stop the two groups from continuing their slaughter.
At the same time, he appealed to their emotions and reason. He said there were many opportunities on the mountain. If they could trust him, Huan Yun, they could all ascend the mountain and hunt for treasures together. Why kill each other here to both sides' detriment?
The chaotic battle, which had been like a surging river, suddenly changed course into a large lake, and soon calmed down.
In particular, Huan Yun called five people into a secret discussion.
Among them were the Northern Pavilion Country young marquis Zhan Qing, Colorful Sparrow Manor's Sun Qing, Water Dragon Sect's Bai Bi, and the two most dominant leaders among the many mountain-and-marsh rogue cultivators.
Thus, they negotiated a framework for both sides to step back from the bridge. Of course, Zhan Qing and Bai Bi's side gave more ground. The reason was simple: if they fought to the end, the only one on their side who might survive would be Bai Bi, forced to flee far away. As for the other side, few would survive—at most ten, maybe only a handful if unlucky.
So Huan Yun's appearance was a great relief for both sides.
Otherwise, everyone was in the awkward position of riding a tiger and unable to dismount. They could only stop after smashing the other side's head.
At the same time, under Huan Yun's lead, they roughly agreed on compensation for those who had died in battle.
During a private conversation via mind lake ripples between Huan Yun and Bai Bi, Bai Bi even immediately produced a sum of immortal coins, handed them to three people on the other side, and let them decide how to distribute the compensation.
On Bai Bi and Zhan Qing's side of five, one marquis family attendant had died, Gao Ling was severely injured, his Ganshu Armor on the verge of shattering, and the Lotus Country imperial attendant wasn't much better.
Zhan Qing himself had even lost that secret treasure folding fan, which he hadn't refined as a life-bound object. Heaven knows if it fell into the river or was secretly pocketed by some black-hearted bastard.
This white-robed young marquis was disheveled, his Dharma robe torn to shreds, not a trace of a dashing nobleman's demeanor left.
But his family had lost a public pillar—a seventh-realm martial artist.
Zhan Qing didn't complain to Bai Bi at all. Instead, he remained calm, said nothing, and handed all decision-making power to Bai Bi.
This pleased Bai Bi greatly.
During this time, Sun Qing took the initiative to communicate via mind voice with Bai Bi, who had been at a disadvantage during the battle: "Regarding this place's ownership, I, Colorful Sparrow Manor, am willing to help you hold out until Water Dragon Sect's seniors arrive. I'll do my best to prevent Cloudscrape City from tipping off other sects. But if Shen Zhenze of Cloudscrape City arrives first with a great cultivator from another sect, don't blame us Colorful Sparrow Manor cultivators for withdrawing."
Just this one sentence changed Bai Bi's impression of this Colorful Sparrow Manor manor lord significantly.
Both sides had been holding back in the earlier fight. Perhaps only old True Person Huan Yun could see it. So after they established a verbal pact, Bai Bi began to consider building some personal ties with Colorful Sparrow Manor in the future.
Huan Yun, seeing that both sides had roughly come to terms, felt relieved.
Being a peacemaker is easy, but doing it well is hard. It's not just about the mediator's realm being high enough; the subtle grasp of human hearts is the key.
At the mountaintop Taoist temple ruins, a tall old man materialized out of thin air. He glanced at the heaps of temple debris, clicked his tongue and shook his head, then slowly walked toward the top of the steps. He sneered, "Children, you think that's it? Do you think money is that easy to get in this world? Humans kill the most—that's the nature of the human heart. Otherwise, what fun would it be to watch children brawl?"
He lightly stomped his foot.
When he reached the steps, he looked down at the ceasefire at the foot of the mountain. After a single glance, the strand of sword qi instantly shredded his ethereal form.
But at the foot of the mountain, the dark green river had already begun to show strange signs. First, ripples appeared, then it started to boil like water.
Huan Yun was the first to notice the anomaly. His sleeves billowed as talisman after talisman flew out like flowing water.
But instantly, the river beneath the bridge fell still and motionless. Then, from both sides of the white jade arched bridge, two azure-clad gods, each fifteen zhang tall, emerged. One god held a silver spear, the other a iron mace. Each stepped ashore and took their positions.
At the same time, mist and clouds swirled around the white jade arched bridge, finally coalescing into a white-robed goddess. She had golden eyes, an expressionless face, and held a scroll that resembled a Daoist sacred declaration.
She floated into the air, unrolled the scroll, and spoke in a voice like heavenly music, slowly uttering words.
Even the experienced old True Person Huan Yun found the white-robed goddess's words absurd after hearing them, yet he had no choice but to take them somewhat seriously.
The general meaning was that this place was where an ancient True Person had achieved the Dao and ascended. It had once been ranked as the Thirty-Sixth Paradise and the Seventy-First Blessed Land—a pure, tranquil realm. Their group's reckless intrusion into this residence was both an opportunity and a transgression. Before ascending, that True Person had left a Dharma decree with the three of them, promising later cultivators that according to the amount of treasures obtained, the size of the opportunity would be determined. In the end, only five would remain. Not only could they keep all the heavenly materials, earthly treasures, and immortal scriptures they had already obtained, but the one at the top would receive the identity of the ascended True Person's direct disciple. The rest would be temporarily listed as registered disciples, and a Dao method directly pointing to immortality would be imparted.
Within the next ten days, only five could survive. Otherwise, everything would be void. Not only would they lose all opportunities, but a heavenly tribulation would be invoked to strike them dead on the spot. As direct and registered disciples, if they could not cleanse the filth for their master, they were unworthy of this Dao fate.
The unrolled scroll suddenly became as large as a waterfall curtain, falling from the sky to the ground.
On the scroll were painted five portraits.
They were precisely the five with the most treasures and the deepest fortune.
In addition to this water curtain, smaller water curtains hung in the air wherever there were people—at certain spots on the front mountain and back mountain.
The white-robed goddess's voice was not loud, but it resounded through the heavens and earth. Everyone in the secret realm heard it clearly.
A young male cultivator carrying the white jade brush tube from Shen Zhenze's Sun Treasure Pouch was dumbfounded. He was on the list, and ranked second.
The female cultivator beside him was half-worried, half-pleased.
The last one was a young man wearing a saber.
Di Yuanfeng.
This handsome young man, whose face was still pale, was dumbstruck.
Ranking fourth was a slovenly man standing before a stele in a palace, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
Ranking third was a tall, thin Daoist who appeared to be using his Daoist robe as a bundle.
It was Sun Daoren, who claimed to be a registered immortal master of Thunder God Residence.
By now, sweat was pouring down his face.
The first one.
A black-robed elder who was currently hugging a bamboo and hovering off the ground.
Chen Ping'an.
Everyone saw that on the painting, the fellow still didn't want to come down. He stretched out one hand and scratched his head vigorously, then, facing the landscape scroll hovering in the air beside him, said with a sincere expression, "Hey, what's all this? There's been a mistake, a real mistake."