Chapter 553: Meeting an Old Acquaintance at the Great River’s Mouth

Chapter 553: Meeting an Old Acquaintance at the Great River’s Mouth

The commotion over at Fushui Island was rather significant.
It even required Water God Shen Lin to personally harness water movement and travel to Fushui Island.
Fortunately, the cultivators of Baijia Island and Cangran Island had been forewarned by Nanxun Water Palace that some reclusive master on Fushui Island was about to break through a bottleneck.
Two of the Water God’s trusted attendant spirit maidens—one a Lantern Officer of Nanxun Water Palace, the other an Inspector of Water Veins—were staying as guests on Baijia and Cangran Islands respectively. This was both a gesture of respect and a form of “oversight.”

Above the clouds, Zhang Shanfeng asked, “Master, it’s been so long. He’s already successfully refined his natal object, so why hasn’t Chen Ping’an snapped out of it yet?”
Fire Dragon True Man replied, “Shutting himself in to think things through—it’s that simple. When a clever person gets stuck in a dead end, it’s not easy for them to get out. Either they retrace their steps one by one, or they forcefully break through and create something new.”

Li Yuan sat cross-legged in the distance, propping his cheeks with both hands, breathing in and out like a fish blowing bubbles. For the Honored Water Lord of the Ji River to be this bored was truly something.
Fire Dragon True Man turned his head and asked, “Old Man Li, still playing around? Do you even know what you’ve missed?”
Li Yuan replied, “I didn’t miss this excitement at all. I watched the whole thing wide-eyed from start to finish.”
Fire Dragon True Man smirked, “Good thing spirits don’t have intestines.”
Li Yuan rolled his eyes. Regret something until your intestines turn green?
Fire Dragon True Man asked, “Want me to sell you a bottle of regret medicine? This offer won’t come again. Think it over carefully.”
Li Yuan’s eyes darted around quickly. This old fellow shouldn’t be messing with him for no reason, so he asked, “What’s the price?”
Fire Dragon True Man chuckled, “A bottle of top-grade Ji River Water Elixir. Not the kind you use to fool river gods.”
Li Yuan winced and shook his head. “No thanks. Old True Man, I really can’t spare a bottle of my natal water elixir. Even though I don’t manage much, I still have to give one elixir to the Water Dragon Sect every ten years.”

This decade, he gave one to Sun Jie; next decade, one to Shao Jingzhi. The northern and southern branches took turns. As for whether they used the elixir to curry favor with their ever-shrewd advisors and guest elders, or kept it for themselves or to reward their direct disciples in the Patriarch Hall, Li Yuan didn’t interfere.
What Fire Dragon True Man mentioned wasn’t just one or two Ji River Water Elixirs, but a whole bottle of rare elixirs rich in incense and refined water essence—at least nine of them.
Five hundred years ago, Li Yuan might have considered it.
But now, his own dilapidated golden body wasn’t much better off than Shen Lin, whose golden body was on the verge of collapse. For Nanxun Water Palace to shamelessly add icing to Fushui Island like this—was it really out of Shen Lin’s magnanimity? That woman managed her household frugally and was the most thrifty. Wasn’t she just clutching at straws, treating this Fire Dragon True Man like a living Bodhisattva who could save her from suffering? She was just making the best of a bad situation. She always thought that if Fire Dragon True Man put in a good word for her in front of that person, it would allow Shen Lin to survive this calamity.

Li Yuan shook his head to himself. What the world called “the ruthlessness of the Great Dao” originally referred not to the mountains, but to the heavens.
And that “Li Liu” was one of the few existences in the heavens.
To put it bluntly, Shen Lin kicking up such a fuss would cost her several more decades of her life. Had she forgotten what Fire Dragon True Man said from the very beginning? That Nanxun Water Palace only needed to stand by and do nothing.

Zhang Shanfeng looked puzzled.
Fire Dragon True Man smiled. “Forcing a cow’s head down to make it drink—that’s hard.”
Zhang Shanfeng asked softly, “Did Chen Ping’an break through?”
Fire Dragon True Man shook his head. “Still at the third realm, but he’s hit a bottleneck. For Chen Ping’an, his Willow Tendon realm can probably be called a true ‘detaining realm.’ No help for it. He experienced the embryonic forms of the three great trials—breaking the inner demon, merging with the Dao, and seeking truth—way too early. On top of that, his Bridge of Longevity is broken. It’s only right that he walks unsteadily. Otherwise, I’d suspect this kid is the reincarnation of some peak powerhouse.”
Zhang Shanfeng asked, “Isn’t it good to be the reincarnation of an immortal who died through severance? I’ve heard that many founding patriarchs of sect-level immortal families leave a backup plan before their life-and-death seclusion. They set clues in advance for their sect to find their reincarnated self, so they can continue their Dao fate and incense offerings.”
Fire Dragon True Man shook his head. “Not really. ‘I’ am not ‘me.’ It’s barely acceptable if you can’t remember past lives at all. But if you remember some and not all, that’s a huge mess.”

Of course, the exception was Li Liu, who was born knowing. For her, it was just a matter of changing skins. She had essentially never died.
Sleeping soundly through the night was just a nap; dying was the real deep sleep.
If a cultivator merely craved life and feared death, forcibly stealing heavenly secrets like a sneaky thief in the night, then reincarnating with an incomplete soul—pieced together to form a person—in the end, that half-dead person—who was who?
Still, Fire Dragon True Man could understand why some Upper Five Realm cultivators feared death and clung to life. Understand, yes, but he still didn’t quite approve.

Some demonic sects that liked to take crooked paths would even light a stick of lifetime incense for cultivators in their Patriarch Hall. In history, many cultivators merely stared at that incense stick a moment too long, and their Dao heart collapsed, leading them to complete demonic possession—they literally scared themselves to death.
Fire Dragon True Man, rarely trying to comfort his disciple, smiled and said, “Earlier, I said Chen Ping’an was walking with a limp. That was more about the muddiness in his mental path, which dragged down his entire heart’s direction. Actually, having a lower realm for a while isn’t a big deal.”
Zhang Shanfeng still looked worried. “Chen Ping’an owes so many debts. What’s he going to do? That guy is most afraid of owing favors and money.”
Fire Dragon True Man laughed. “Some great worries, Chen Ping’an isn’t afraid of. For example, on the mountain-climbing path, Chen Ping’an keeps his head down and walks slowly. Then he finds that a few steps ahead, he can bend down and pick up money. Even if it’s just one Snow Flower Coin, do you think Chen Ping’an will walk faster? Every coin he picks up reduces his burden. Over time, he naturally walks faster and faster.”

Zhang Shanfeng suddenly saw the light. Master really knew his stuff. He’d only met Chen Ping’an twice, and he already understood him this well?
Fire Dragon True Man suddenly said, “The dust has settled. We can head back to Fushui Island.”
Li Yuan couldn’t help but ask, “What realm is this Mr. Chen actually in?”

Li Yuan hadn’t been able to hear a single word of Fire Dragon True Man’s conversation with his disciple.
The number one fire cultivator in the world. In water techniques, he could probably rank in the top ten.
Don’t forget, Fire Dragon True Man was also an outer-surname Grand Heavenly Master of Dragon Tiger Mountain. What kind of place was the Heavenly Master Mansion of Dragon Tiger Mountain? Mountain cultivators had always revered the arts of the world, with thunder techniques holding the highest honor—the pivot of heaven and earth, commanding all methods. And the Five Thunder True Method of the Heavenly Master Mansion’s purple and yellow nobles, where “all creation is in my palm,” was the authentic thunder method of the world. Could Fire Dragon True Man’s thunder method be weak? Throughout Dragon Tiger Mountain’s history, the outer-surname Grand Heavenly Masters could, generally speaking, study all of Dragon Tiger Mountain’s techniques, except for lacking the Heavenly Master Seal and the Immortal Sword.

That was why Fire Dragon True Man could be so transcendent and unique in Northern Juzhou, where swordsmen were as common as clouds.

Fire Dragon True Man ignored Li Yuan, took Zhang Shanfeng down from the clouds, and landed at the residence on Fushui Island.
Chen Ping’an had already emerged from his secluded cultivation chamber. His spirit was inwardly gathered, his skin radiant. But because he had just refined his natal object and hadn’t yet fully stabilized his qi mansion, his spiritual energy was still fluctuating, making him seem even more ethereal and otherworldly. Once the wooden dwelling settled, this slight mastery of an immortal’s bearing could be controlled and released at will.
Fire Dragon True Man nodded in approval. “When I was in the lower five realms back then, I didn’t have this kind of presence.”
Chen Ping’an cupped his fists in thanks.
This time, Fire Dragon True Man didn’t complain about Chen Ping’an’s formalities. On the path of cultivation, when someone guards the gate and protects the formation for you, and you successfully break through, you do need to put on a bit of superficial politeness.
Fire Dragon True Man said, “Since it’s done, the kid and I won’t linger. Over at Prostrate Peak, there’s a mountain of affairs waiting.”
Zhang Shanfeng muttered, “Sleeping is sleeping, no matter where.”

Fire Dragon True Man wasn’t the least bit annoyed by his disciple’s undermining. Instead, he chuckled and explained, “Of course, dozing off in your own straw nest is more comfortable.”
There was a reason Daoists occupied famous mountains and great rivers, far from the mortal world. “Immortal” meant to move, to move into the mountains. The mundane world was full of worries, like lingering threads that couldn’t be cut. Thus, it was fitting to enter famous mountains, to purify both body and mind.
Zhang Shanfeng nodded. “I do miss those senior brothers and disciples.”
Chen Ping’an said, “I might need to trouble the old true man with one more thing.”
Zhang Shanfeng had already blurted out, “No trouble, no trouble at all.”
Fire Dragon True Man smiled but said nothing.
Zhang Shanfeng, afraid his master might think he was favoring outsiders, quickly lowered his voice and said, “Master, Chen Ping’an knows his limits. If he says it’s troublesome, it probably won’t be too bad. That means we get a free favor out of it. Before he finishes his travels in Northern Juzhou and returns to Bottle Gourd Prefecture, he’ll definitely visit our place. I’ll show him around then. There are plenty of places in the sect—like Peach Mountain or near Grand Cloud Peak—that I haven’t even been to myself. That’s not right.”

Fire Dragon True Man nodded, smiling at Chen Ping’an. “Go on.”
Chen Ping’an then stated that out of the hundred and twenty-two pieces of emerald green glazed tiles, he only wanted to keep two for himself. The rest he would trouble the old true man to sell to White Emperor City in the Central Earth Divine Continent. He only wanted six hundred Grain Rain Coins in return.
Zhang Shanfeng’s jaw dropped. He was about to speak when Chen Ping’an stopped him with a look.
Fire Dragon True Man seemed to be weighing the pros and cons, chuckling but saying nothing.
Chen Ping’an waited quietly for his response.

Distant water couldn’t quench immediate thirst.
Luo Po Mountain was in desperate need of immortal money. Everywhere, there were holes that needed patching, and none of them were small.
Upgrading the Lotus Root Paradise to a mid-grade blessed land was one matter, and the top priority at that. If he didn’t count the income from Wei Bo’s third Night Travel Banquet for mountain and water spirits, and if he could sell off those glazed tiles, he’d immediately earn six hundred Grain Rain Coins. That would not only fill all the gaps but also leave a surplus of about two hundred Grain Rain Coins. He could send half of that surplus to Zhu Lian as savings for Luo Po Mountain, so they wouldn’t be stretched thin by any small expense. Some favors, if he had no choice but to owe them, might as well be big ones. But the number of times must be few. That was far better than owing small favors to different people and not being able to repay them. That wouldn’t count as mutual favor exchanges—it would just make friends feel they’d chosen the wrong person. Favor in the world had always been about borrowing and returning, making it easy to borrow again.

Besides, constantly fleecing Wei Bo like this—the Honored Northern Mountain God of an entire prefecture, scraping the ground in his own jurisdiction—was that proper? Even a rabbit knew not to eat the grass near its own den. Think about it: I, Chen Ping’an, am at least a bundle-carrying peddler. Even if I ran far with a caisson on my back, would it be the same?
Chen Ping’an could keep a hundred Grain Rain Coins for himself to buy two or three imitation immortal swords from Hate Sword Mountain. If they were really cheap, far below his expectations, he could buy a few more and give them away as gifts, couldn’t he?

Furthermore, setting up and operating the protective mountain array for Luo Po Mountain was another considerable expense.
Selecting and placing suppression objects for new peaks like Gray Mist Mountain and Turtleback Mountain was the third matter. In fact, Jiang Shangzhen had used the pretense of thanking Chen Ping’an for helping the True Mirror Sect gain an additional Sword Immortal guest elder and making up for missing two of Wei Bo’s Night Travel Banquets, and had already given three precious suppression treasures. The Dragon King’s Basket that Fire Dragon True Man had taken for repair also counted. The rest, Luo Po Mountain would have to shell out for on its own.

So Chen Ping’an only kept two pieces of emerald green glazed tiles for himself, as a memento. After all, these things were hard to come by. Keeping them at Luo Po Mountain was like hoping for good things to come in pairs.

Fire Dragon True Man laughed. “Six hundred? Half off? Chen Ping’an, this deal of yours is a huge loss.”
Chen Ping’an smiled. “It depends on the person. If it were some fat cat, I’d sell them for two thousand Grain Rain Coins without batting an eye.”

According to Fire Dragon True Man’s earlier appraisal estimate, a hundred and twenty glazed tiles could sell for twelve hundred Grain Rain Coins at White Emperor City’s Glazed Tile Pavilion.
But accounts weren’t always that simple.
Stumbling upon such a huge pile of glazed tiles was already an unexpected blessing beyond his wildest dreams.
Originally, based on Chen Ping’an’s own thinking—plus the fact that even True Man Huan Yun wasn’t sure about the tile prices—he would have followed Fire Dragon True Man’s suggestion. If he could sell even one glazed tile for a Minor Heat Coin in Northern Juzhou, Chen Ping’an would be overjoyed, and he might not even keep the last two tiles.

Selling at half price to Prostrate Peak.
This choice, first, would immediately net him an unimaginable amount of Grain Rain Coins. Second, it was a small token of thanks for Fire Dragon True Man’s guidance and guard duty. Third, it would spare him from dealing personally with White Emperor City in Central Earth and all the unexpected complications. Finally, Chen Ping’an still hoped that when he visited Prostrate Peak on his way back south to see Zhang Shanfeng, he would have a little more confidence—not just owing the old true man a mountain of huge favors and still having the nerve to freeload.

There was calculation in this, and also a lack of calculation.
Goodwill was in there, and so were some selfish thoughts. But Chen Ping’an had a clear conscience.

Fire Dragon True Man said, “First, hurry up and refine the scattered, chaotic spiritual energy in your three key qi mansions. Otherwise, it’ll return to Fushui Island and the Dragon Palace Cave Heaven. That would waste Li Yuan’s and Shen Lin’s kindness. It’s like a host kindly offering you a cup of tea, and you, the guest, take a sip or two and then walk out the door. That’s not right. That’s one.
“Second, human power has its limits. You can’t absorb all the spiritual energy. That’s inevitable, especially since you’re only at the third realm bottleneck. You can’t really drink tea until you’re stuffed to death. The host treats you sincerely, but they don’t want to end up having to collect your corpse—that would be too unlucky. So you can study those two refining formulas, the Mountain Refining and Water Refining formulas, and continue to refine the Dao intent in the temple’s blue bricks. That, too, is cultivation. Before this, you were like someone standing in a Treasure Mountain without knowing it. Did you really think these high-grade Dao formulas, which can refine all things, were just for refining objects? Think more about it yourself.
“Third, regarding these hundred and twenty glazed tiles, six hundred Grain Rain Coins—that’s the price you set. No buyer in the world is going to force a price increase. ‘Poor Daoist’—truly ‘poor’ as in ‘penniless Daoist.’ I’m famous for being broke in Northern Juzhou. However, I can borrow a few hundred Grain Rain Coins from my disciples like Peach Mountain and Profound Finger Mountain to tide me over. That’s not too hard. So I’ll take the glazed tiles first. Later, I’ll send word to Yuan Lingdian of Profound Finger Peak to deliver the money to you. He should be able to get here before you leave the Water Dragon Sect.”

With that, Fire Dragon True Man grinned. “Don’t worry. I won’t short you a single Grain Rain Coin, and I won’t give you an extra one either.”
Chen Ping’an cupped his fists in thanks again.
Zhang Shanfeng was torn.
He was torn between the realization that his master and senior brothers were so wealthy, and the fact that Chen Ping’an was inevitably losing money—a loss of six hundred Grain Rain Coins. Chen Ping’an might not mind, but Zhang Shanfeng’s heart ached. Still, since his own sect had earned six hundred Grain Rain Coins, was this what they meant by “not letting water flow to outsiders’ fields”?
So no matter what he said now, whether happy or unhappy, he’d be in the wrong.
Zhang Shanfeng felt stifled.
It was hard being human.

Fire Dragon True Man suddenly asked, “Chen Ping’an, what do you think of Zhang Shanfeng’s fist techniques?”
Chen Ping’an was caught off guard, but answered honestly, “A bit slow. Not yet perfected.”
Zhang Shanfeng was so embarrassed he nearly dug a hole to bury himself. Master, you’re not thinking that since Chen Ping’an is so talented, you need to brag about your disciple to save face, are you?
No need for that.
He knew his own strengths. Everything he learned was just superficial. If he went down the mountain to slay demons, he’d be far from ready. So Zhang Shanfeng had made up his mind: he wouldn’t go down the mountain until he was truly accomplished in the Dao.
Besides, Senior Brother Yuan Lingdian of Profound Finger Peak was the talented one. The little Dao boys at Prostrate Peak loved to guess whether this Grandmaster Yuan was actually a Golden Core immortal or not.

Fire Dragon True Man said, “Chen Ping’an, you chose martial arts first. You really didn’t make a mistake.”
Chen Ping’an smiled. “Actually, I didn’t choose it. Initially, I had no choice. If I didn’t practice fists to stay alive, I wouldn’t have survived, let alone gotten far.”
Fire Dragon True Man nodded. “No matter what, treat yourself well first, and then you can truly treat others well. This is something you must understand clearly. After that, when you do good deeds for this world, do you still need to question your own heart? Do you need to? I, Poor Daoist, don’t think so.”
Chen Ping’an thought for a moment and smiled. “I understand.”

Fire Dragon True Man recalled something and chuckled. “Since you like to think so much, like to wander around Fushui Island, and you even came up with that ‘not yet perfected,’ I’ll tell you a little story. After you hear it, think whatever you like. There was a scholar and a boatman crossing a river together. The scholar was full of poetry and books; the boatman was illiterate. The scholar spouted a lot of great principles, and the boatman blushed with shame. A big wave capsized the boat, and both fell into the water. The scholar was drowning, about to die. The boatman, who had only one skill and nothing else, wondered whether to save him or not.”
Chen Ping’an said, “I’ll remember that. I’ll think more about its deeper meaning.”
Fire Dragon True Man gave a half-smile and said slowly, “Does it necessarily have to have a deep meaning? Because my cultivation and status are what they are, and I told you this, do you feel you have to listen and think extra hard?”
Chen Ping’an was about to say something.
Fire Dragon True Man waved his hand. “Poor Daoist is on the shore. I don’t need to hear the boatman’s answer.”
Finally, Fire Dragon True Man swept his large sleeve and casually stored all those emerald green glazed tiles. They flew into his sleeve one by one.

They said that for peak cultivators, the sleeve contained a vast universe, capable of holding small mountains and rivers.
Chen Ping’an was a bit envious. With this mountain divine power, being a bundle-carrying peddler would be like a fish in water.

Fire Dragon True Man headed to the shore first. The talisman boat hovered quietly at the ferry, bobbing with the water.
Zhang Shanfeng and Chen Ping’an slowed down, walking side by side.
Chen Ping’an said, “Your fist technique—I can only see a bit of its meaning. When you get to Prostrate Peak, don’t neglect this martial art alongside your cultivation.”
Zhang Shanfeng grinned. “So does that make me your half-master in fist techniques?”
Chen Ping’an rewarded him with one word: “Scram.”
Zhang Shanfeng lowered his voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll urge Senior Brother Yuan Lingdian of Profound Finger Peak to get here as soon as possible. Senior Brother Yuan might have high Dao skills, but he has a good temper.”

Up ahead, Fire Dragon True Man gave a dry chuckle.
Whether disciple Yuan Lingdian had a good temper was debatable.
In his early years, this kid was the most unruly one. He had to fight his way to each realm. Later, his master had confined him to a cave on Peach Mountain for ten years of secluded cultivation. After that, he was grounded for six decades, which finally mellowed him out quite a bit.

Chen Ping’an stood at the ferry, watching the talisman boat rise into the clouds and disappear into the sea of clouds.
He planned to visit Nanxun Water Palace in person to thank the Water Goddess.
But how to get there—he’d have to ask Li Yuan first.

Li Yuan had been waiting forever. Now that the talisman boat was finally gone, he immediately appeared on Fushui Island.
Without Fire Dragon True Man, the Dragon Palace Cave Heaven seemed amiable and lovely everywhere.
When he heard that Chen Ping’an wanted to go to Nanxun Water Palace, Li Yuan said it was simple. He used a water technique to take Chen Ping’an on a water-repelling journey.
He wasn’t so petty as to resent this Mr. Chen making a good connection with Shen Lin.

Shen Lin had diligently maintained a Summer Palace of the Ji River for so many years. Li Yuan only admitted to being a little lazy. Besides, they each had their duties; he wouldn’t step over the line. In fact, it was Li Yuan’s intentional or unintentional “social awkwardness,” deliberately keeping his distance from Water Dragon Sect Leader Sun Jie, that made the appropriately-sized private friendship between Nanxun Water Palace and the Southern Branch’s Shao Jingzhi seem especially precious. It made Shao Jingzhi grateful, and even after she broke into the Jade Pure Realm, she still treated the mere Core Formation Water God Shen Lin with the courtesy of a junior.

Arriving at the Summer Palace, they entered through a side door unimpeded.
Being the Honored Water Lord of the Ji River had its perks.
Besides, the young ladies of Nanxun Water Palace had always been on familiar terms with him, Li Yuan. Family, all family!
And in this strictly-regulated Nanxun Water Palace, Li Yuan’s slightly ribald marketplace jokes were even more popular. Quite a few of the attendant spirit maidens and ghost maids with decent aptitudes most enjoyed listening to this Water Lord, who looked like a young boy, spin tales of gifted scholars and beauties from the mortal world. When he reached the good parts, they laughed like flowers swaying in the wind. The more bashful ones would listen with red faces, mutter a coy “how annoying,” and then saunter away. Tsk tsk, those slender waists swaying were truly eye-catching.

Walking through the familiar Water Palace, Li Yuan couldn’t help but sigh—if only his golden body were still flawless, he’d be living like an immortal.

Shen Lin soon came out to greet them personally.
Li Yuan hadn’t planned to get involved. Leading Chen Ping’an to meet Shen Lin would be the end of his mission. He intended to go chat with the young ladies, ask if any of them had taken a fancy to any young talents from the Water Dragon Sect, and whether they needed him to play matchmaker, to set up some unnoticed coincidences, lucky encounters, or misunderstandings. But this Mr. Chen said he would only sit for a while before returning to Fushui Island, so Li Yuan had to reluctantly shelve those embarrassing stories he’d recently heard, keeping them in his belly. Still, over the past thousand years, Li Yuan had told no fewer than a hundred stories—some about the mountains, some about the mortal world—all embellished with his own additions. Yet it seemed the most popular one was still the romantic exploits of that bastard Jiang Shangzhen. Damn it, there was no justice.

Chen Ping’an carried a small Xuanbi tea cake in his hand. A modest gift, and its meaning wasn’t heavy either—it could even be considered shabby.
No help for it. The first time Chen Ping’an visited, he really couldn’t come up with a suitable thank-you gift.
But Shen Lin was very happy, and she didn’t pretend otherwise. Upon hearing it was the Small Xuanbi tea from the Colorful Bird Manor, she insisted on personally brewing tea for Chen Ping’an and Li Yuan in a pavilion beside the flower garden. She even told Mr. Chen not to mind, since she was using the gift to entertain her guests.

This time, Shen Lin didn’t show her true face. She used a technique to conceal her cracked face.
Chen Ping’an sipped his tea and felt a little emotional. Here was a mountain and water spirit, yet she knew how to handle human relationships so well.
Shen Lin also had her own thoughts. This young man, who could make Fire Dragon True Man personally guard his seclusion—judging by his demeanor while drinking tea, he was undoubtedly either from a registered sect or a powerful clan.

Chen Ping’an then asked about the method of refining water elixirs and how to reduce waste.
Shen Lin naturally didn’t hold back. She explained many key points in detail, which gave Chen Ping’an a great harvest. This was the difference between having a wise teacher on the path of cultivation or not.
Maybe a wild cultivator could snatch opportunities from registered masters. But how well one could digest those opportunities and treasures—whether one absorbed seventy or eighty percent, or ninety to one hundred percent—the key lay in the eight characters spoken by immortal mountain peaks: “inherited in order, lineages unbroken.” Many small discrepancies, accumulated over time, could directly lead to a difference of one entire realm. Especially the distinction between Dragon Gate realm and Golden Core realm—that was a true gap between heaven and earth.

From start to finish, Shen Lin never asked a single word about Chen Ping’an’s background. She didn’t even probe.
After finishing the tea, Chen Ping’an took his leave and returned to Fushui Island.
Li Yuan personally escorted him again.

Back at his residence on Fushui Island, Chen Ping’an sat on a cushion and began to plan his next cultivation steps.
Li Yuan, meanwhile, returned the way he came to Nanxun Water Palace. He met Shen Lin at the pavilion, where the tea set hadn’t been cleared away.
Li Yuan didn’t really like tea, but since Shen Lin had already brewed another pot, he didn’t mind. Sipping tea leisurely was better than drinking plain water, wasn’t it?
Fire Dragon True Man’s arrival and departure seemed to have lightened Shen Lin’s mood considerably.

They chatted idly about recent events in the Northern Juzhou mountain world.
For instance, Ji Yue and Gu Youtong had perished together. Liu Jinglong of the Grand Illumination Sword Sect had begun secluded cultivation. The female sect leader of the Cool Breeze Sect already had a Dao partner.
When Li Yuan mentioned Lord He, he beat his chest and stamped his feet, lamenting that such a divine beauty should never be defiled by some filthy man.
Shen Lin looked at Li Yuan, her expression somewhat dazed.
She couldn’t help but envy this Water Lord’s perennial idleness, how he frolicked in the mortal world as a spirit.

Over on Fushui Island.
Chen Ping’an realized that from now on, he would have not a single free moment.
The Dao intent contained in those thirty-six blue bricks—he’d only completed the first step, barely inviting the spirit into the mountain to take root in the mountain shrine. The next step, fully refining them into the mountain’s foundation, was the true priority. Otherwise, it was just a decorative frame. But refining Dao intent was even more difficult than extracting the strands of water essence and transporting them to the Water Mansion. It would consume even more time. There was no shortcut; it required the painstaking effort of dripping water wearing through stone, stubbornly tempering them slowly. Chen Ping’an made a rough estimate: fully refining the first blue brick would take a full month, at least six hours a day. Perhaps as he went on, refining the Dao intent of the remaining thirty-five bricks would go faster, but at the fastest, it would still take two or three years of steady, meticulous work.

Moving bricks up the mountain, transporting water essence into the mansion—these were long-term projects.
Fortunately, Chen Ping’an now knew that his fist practice had been trending toward dead drilling. He could now cultivate as a qi refiner with more peace of mind.
In fact, he no longer needed to obsess over how many times he walked the stake each day. As long as his fist intent flowed without interruption, and a bottleneck was ready to break, he could let it take its natural course. As for whether he could enter the Golden Body realm as the strongest sixth realm, he wasn’t seeking it—he just wasn’t demanding it anymore. If it came, he’d accept it; if not, so be it. There was no need to drill fist stakes obsessively just to gain more martial fortune to give to Pei Qian. If even he strayed from the right path, how could he be a master to his first disciple?
When had he ever forced martial fortune? If the master didn’t force it, should the disciple necessarily have a shortcut on the martial path? There was no such logic in the world. Just because Pei Qian was your disciple, Chen Ping’an, didn’t mean she deserved such good fortune.

Moreover, Chen Ping’an had a vague feeling—after Senior Gu Youtong’s share of martial fortune dissipated and left—that this “strongest sixth realm” might be hard to come by. In fact, Senior Gu’s gift and Chen Ping’an’s own pursuit of deserved martial fortune had no necessary connection. But worldly affairs were mysterious and ineffable. Besides, martial artists across the nine prefectures were full of talents, each with their own opportunities and trials. How could Chen Ping’an claim to be the most pure?
He stopped looking too much at the scene of the Eighteen-Stop Sword Qi breaching the final barrier.
Forging the sword’s edge on the first and fifteenth of each month, eventually refining his two flying swords into natal objects—there was no need to rush for that either.

For the time being, staying on Fushui Island, he should follow the old true man’s advice and properly refine the abundant spiritual energy accumulated in his three acupoints.
It was raining again outside.
Chen Ping’an thought for a moment, stood up from his cushion, picked up an umbrella, and went out.
The landscape was still the landscape. His state of mind still had issues for self-reflection. But Chen Ping’an felt that he had one good quality: as long as he didn’t find himself in a state of utter confusion like before, once he took the first step, he could still endure hardship.

He walked slowly through the rain.
One fundamental thing, once understood, was like one Dharma leading to all Dharmas.
Scattering the clouds and mists, seeing the blue sky and bright moon.
If there were many flaws and gaps in his heart, he just had to patch them up.
For example, that saying: “Intentional kindness, though good, is not rewarded.” So what if it’s not rewarded? Doesn’t that mean the good done for others is no longer good? If his intentional kindness couldn’t truly correct more mistakes or make amends, if he couldn’t accumulate future-life merits for those wrongfully killed souls and ghosts, then he should seek other ways to correct his mistakes. All those years spent climbing mountains and crossing rivers—wasn’t every path carved by walking? You, Chen Ping’an, had always admired that “a gentleman bestows kindness without expecting repayment.” Was that just to deceive yourself and others? When it fell on your own head, you felt uncomfortable? If this kind of self-deceiving selfishness kept spreading, wouldn’t it eventually harm others? By then, the so-called principles in your bamboo basket would be many, but you’d be all the more unaware of what you didn’t understand.

He untied that knot in his heart.
His state of mind lightened, but the burden on his shoulders remained heavy.
However, Chen Ping’an didn’t think much of it. He no longer wore straw sandals, but he was still Chen Ping’an. For all the poor families in the world, the one thing they didn’t need to talk about was suffering. Only by enduring hardship could one enjoy blessings.

After making a circuit around the adjacent mountains and waters of Fushui Island, Chen Ping’an returned to his residence, sat on his cushion, and began to sit in forgetfulness, breathing and gradually refining the spiritual energy that had gathered in the wooden dwelling.
Heaven and earth’s spiritual energy was the greatest immortal money for a cultivator.
He could think of this as another way to earn money.

While waiting for Profound Finger Peak’s Yuan Lingdian to arrive at Fushui Island, Chen Ping’an, besides his unshakable six hours of qi refinement each day, of course didn’t forget to draw talismans.
He didn’t skip meals or sleep to cultivate. He practiced only six hours a day.

One day, a thin, middle-aged Daoist arrived at Fushui Island. Instead of riding a talisman boat, he parted the clouds and flew in on the wind.
The Daoist wore a smile as he looked at Chen Ping’an, who had come out to greet him.
The Daoist made a Daoist salute. “Yuan Lingdian of Profound Finger Peak. Fifth senior brother of Zhang Shanfeng. Mr. Chen may call me Yuan of Profound Finger.”
Chen Ping’an quickly cupped his fists in return. He naturally wouldn’t actually call him Yuan of Profound Finger to his face; he addressed him as Senior Yuan.
He led this immortal from Profound Finger Peak—whose face didn’t show his age, but whose years were many and whose Dao arts were profound—toward the residence.

Zhang Shanfeng didn’t know the true details of his own sect. Chen Ping’an knew more. Before his travels in Northern Juzhou, Wei Bo had generally recounted many interesting anecdotes about Prostrate Peak. Nothing too secretive—if one cared to know, one could find out. Of course, for ordinary small immortal peaks, it was still hard to find news about Prostrate Peak Daoists in the landscape gazettes. The Daoists of Prostrate Peak and those who had established their own mountain mansions were indeed not the type to flaunt themselves. The expert beside him from Profound Finger Peak was not Fire Dragon True Man’s highest-realm disciple, but he was widely recognized in Northern Juzhou as a Daoist immortal who could use a Jade Pure Realm as if it were an Immortal Realm.

Yuan Lingdian handed the six hundred Grain Rain Coins to Chen Ping’an, then invited Chen Ping’an to visit Prostrate Peak and Profound Finger Peak. After that, there was no more polite conversation.
It wasn’t that this Profound Finger Peak immortal was looking down on Chen Ping’an as a mere third-realm cultivator; it was simply that they had nothing to talk about.
So his coming was hurried, and his going was hurried.

Chen Ping’an escorted Yuan Lingdian back to the island ferry.
Yuan Lingdian smiled. “Mr. Chen, I still need to thank you for looking after Shanfeng on the journey.”
Chen Ping’an said, “Senior Yuan, you flatter me.”
“Whether it’s flattery or not, I don’t care.”
Yuan Lingdian smiled again, took a small peachwood box from his sleeve, and said, “Inside is an imitation sword forged by Hate Sword Mountain. I hope Mr. Chen won’t mind such a meager gift.”

Chen Ping’an was somewhat stunned.
But that didn’t stop him from accepting the gift.
To pretend to be polite with these immortals—who would be that foolish?

Yuan Lingdian transformed into a rainbow and departed.
Chen Ping’an stood there, holding the peachwood box.
He thought to himself that from now on, even if it cost a bit more, he would still buy two more imitation swords from Hate Sword Mountain.
With over a hundred Grain Rain Coins in his pocket now, he felt very confident.
As for debts, let Zhu Lian worry about that alone for now.

As for the remaining five hundred Grain Rain Coins, it wasn’t that Chen Ping’an didn’t trust Li Yuan to send them to Luo Po Mountain; he just didn’t want to trouble him too much. There had to be a limit to asking for favors.
He would handle it when he reached Lion’s Peak.

It was the end of winter.
Chen Ping’an left Fushui Island.
He had already written a letter to be sent to Lion’s Peak. He placed it on his desk, along with the “Three-Foot Sweet Rain” chi dragon token left by Li Liu, setting it on top of the letter.
Initially, he had intended to ask Nanxun Water Palace’s Water Goddess Shen Lin to help pass on the letter and jade token. But after consideration, he decided to ask Li Yuan for this third favor instead.
Anyway, everything—every detail, every bit of it—was written in the letter.
As for that “Steep Blue Rain Aspect,” of course he needed to return it to Li Yuan.

Li Yuan initially refused to keep the “Three-Foot Sweet Rain” jade token, spouting a long string of righteous words.
It took a lot of persuasion from Chen Ping’an to convince Li Yuan, with a promise that if Miss Li took issue, he, Chen Ping’an, would help explain everything.
Only then did Li Yuan feel slightly at ease.
He figured that since she had been willing to address this young man as “Mr. Chen,” and since Mr. Chen was willing to vouch like this, there shouldn’t be any major problems.

Chen Ping’an asked Li Yuan to say goodbye on his behalf to Nanxun Water Palace. Li Yuan had already taken on such a big problem, so this trivial matter was naturally no trouble at all.
Li Yuan insisted on seeing Chen Ping’an off to the bridge outside the Dragon Palace Cave Heaven.
Chen Ping’an returned that immortal orange wood plaque inscribed with the words “Rest and Cease,” and continued his travels along the great river.

He was simply in a blue robe, carrying a bamboo basket, holding a walking staff.
His sword immortals and the Sword-Nurturing Gourd were temporarily placed inside the bamboo basket.

Li Yuan still didn’t step off the bridge, watching the young man travel westward into the distance.
Back on Fushui Island, Li Yuan didn’t even dare touch the jade token. He only carefully and quickly pulled out the letter, sending it posthaste to Lion’s Peak.

Half a month later.
Li Liu returned to Dragon Palace Cave Heaven. When she saw the trembling, terrified Water Lord Li Yuan, for once she gave him a proper look and a smile, saying that he’d finally done something useful.
Hearing this decree, Li Yuan’s knees almost gave way. For the first time in his life, he felt his eyes welling up.

Li Liu collected the chi dragon jade token and casually tossed it back to Li Yuan, telling this Honored Water Lord of the Ji River to place it in the shrine for worship, to help condense the essence of incense offerings.
Li Yuan prostrated himself on the ground, his voice trembling as he thanked her for her grace.
But Li Liu had already gone to Nanxun Water Palace.

When Shen Lin saw her, she prostrated herself and wept uncontrollably.
Li Liu reached out and pulled out this Water Goddess’s golden body, then pressed her hand on its head. In an instant, the millions of fine cracks on the golden body closed one by one.
With a slight flick of her wrist, Li Liu slammed the golden body back into Shen Lin’s mortal shell lying on the ground.

Li Liu sat on a long bench in the pavilion.
Shen Lin remained prostrate, not daring to raise her head.
Li Liu said, “You’ve worked hard. If there are no major surprises, you will be the Duke of the Source of the Ji River from now on.”
Shen Lin’s voice trembled. “Your servant would never dare to entertain such a hope! To be able to continue serving Nanxun Water Palace for a thousand years is already more than enough for your servant.”
Li Liu frowned. “Mm?”
Shen Lin did not dare to defy her again. She immediately knocked her head heavily on the ground. “Accepting your decree!”

Li Liu stood up and vanished in an instant.
Shen Lin remained prostrate in full ritual posture for a long time, motionless.
It wasn’t until Li Yuan swaggered into the Summer Palace and reached the pavilion that Shen Lin slowly rose, feeling as if a lifetime had passed.

Li Yuan wore that “Three-Foot Sweet Rain” jade token at his waist, his chest puffed out, walking with a swagger. Entering the pavilion, he winked at the dazed Water Goddess, tapping the jade token at his waist.
Take a look—what’s this?
Shen Lin ignored Li Yuan’s display. She hesitated for a moment, then plopped down on the bench, still dazed, and murmured, “Li Yuan, I might become the Duke of the Source of the Ji River. Do you believe it?”

Li Yuan looked as if he’d been struck by a Five Thunder Strike from Fire Dragon True Man. He stood dumbfounded for a long time, then suddenly clutched his head and wailed, falling backward to the ground. Lying there, he flailed his arms and legs. “Why isn’t it me? The Duke of the Source, vacant for thousands of years, a river spirit marquis—why isn’t it me, the ever-diligent Li Yuan?”

Although Shen Lin had been off guard and let it slip, she didn’t regret revealing this heavenly secret. Water Lord Li Yuan would have to know sooner or later. It was better to be straightforward and tell him early than to keep it hidden, which would only make Li Yuan more devastated later and create a bigger rift between them.

Li Yuan lay stiff as a corpse, motionless.
Shen Lin felt helpless.
Li Yuan sniffled, and finally some signs of life returned to his face. He said gloomily, “Congratulations, Lady Shen, on ascending to the position of Duke of the Source.”
Shen Lin smiled. “Next time you come to Nanxun Water Palace, stop teasing the attendant female officials here.”
Li Yuan started kicking his legs again and shouted, “No way! Absolutely not!”

Eventually, Li Yuan quieted down completely, looking pitiful. “I’m going to beg the old true man to sell me a big jar of regret medicine. I’ll eat myself to death.”
Shen Lin said softly, with a smile, “The Ji River enfeoffment hasn’t been finalized yet.”
Li Yuan turned his head, rubbed his face against the ground, and looked dazed. “Go ahead, pour salt all over my wounds.”

Shen Lin stared blankly into space, grateful to Fire Dragon True Man and also grateful to that courteous, well-mannered young man.
Li Yuan suddenly jumped to his feet. He tore open the canopy of the Dragon Palace Cave Heaven and plunged into the waters of the great river, chasing after that heartless Mr. Chen.

Beside the great river.
Chen Ping’an was cupping water to wash his face.
Suddenly, a head popped out of the water. Since it came so silently, Chen Ping’an almost threw a punch.
Seeing it was Li Yuan, he restrained the flood of fist intent that had suddenly surged through him and smiled, “What brings you here?”
Li Yuan emerged onto the bank and grinned, “Tired, Mr. Chen? Want me to carry your bamboo basket? Rub your shoulders, tap your back?”
Chen Ping’an felt a shiver run down his spine. He smiled wryly, “What’s going on?”
Li Yuan crouched down, hugged Chen Ping’an’s leg, and wailed, “Mr. Chen, do you need any water elixirs? I have two bottles here. They’re just dead weight to me…”

Damn it, why should Old Man Li care about face? Not today!
Let Shen Lin be the Duke of the Source. According to the regulations of the Ji River, there could still be one Dragon Pavilion Marquis. Although the rank was a bit lower, in truth, the Dragon Pavilion Marquis was not under the jurisdiction of the first spirit, the Duke of the Source. The Dragon Pavilion Marquis simply governed a smaller water domain, slightly inferior to the Duke of the Source. They were like well water and river water—they didn’t interfere. One in the east, one in the west, jointly managing the Ji River.

Chen Ping’an had to crouch down and said helplessly, “If you keep this up, I’m leaving.”
Li Yuan let go, sat on the ground, and asked softly, “Mr. Chen, do you really know who she is?”
Chen Ping’an smiled. “You know I don’t. I only know that Miss Li is from the same hometown as me, and she’s the sister of some little troublemaker.”

In truth, Chen Ping’an still hadn’t guessed Li Yuan’s identity.
As for the status of Nanxun Water Palace within the Dragon Palace Cave Heaven, Chen Ping’an wasn’t inclined to dig too deeply. He only vaguely guessed that Lady Shen, who managed a “Water Palace,” had a special position among the many water spirits of the Dragon Palace Cave Heaven.

Li Yuan didn’t dare say more.
He didn’t want to try to steal a chicken only to lose the rice—even the chi dragon jade token, which he had already enshrined in his shrine, might be taken from him.

Li Yuan was deeply melancholy.
Chen Ping’an had no choice but to sit with him on the ground, leaning against his bamboo basket. He said softly, “Can I help with anything? Just say it. If it’s something I can promise, I won’t be vague.”

This time, Li Yuan couldn’t bring himself to ask.
In fact, this trip, breaking the rule of leaving the Water Dragon Sect’s territory, was just because he felt awful inside.
It wasn’t really that he had to be enfeoffed as the Dragon Pavilion Marquis of the Ji River. Because Li Yuan knew full well: on the path of life, you can catch up to those who pass you by, but you can never reclaim what’s been missed.

Still, Li Yuan’s ambitions wouldn’t die. He felt he could still struggle a bit, so he blinked, trying to make his smile as sincere as possible, and asked, “Mr. Chen, if I give you two bottles of water elixir, will you take them?”
Chen Ping’an smiled and shook his head.
Li Yuan’s face fell. “I knew it.”

Chen Ping’an took out two flasks of wine—one a Third Watch Wine bought from the bridge, one a glutinous rice wine.
Buying immortal wines wherever he went was an old habit of Chen Ping’an.
Li Yuan took the flask of Third Watch Wine and chugged it noisily.
Chen Ping’an hadn’t been drinking at all on this leg of the journey. He sipped his hometown rice wine in small mouthfuls, saying nothing.

Li Yuan remembered something. He’d already done half of it earlier but had thought it would be too sentimental, so he hadn’t done the other half.
It was that “Rest and Cease” wooden plaque. He’d asked the Water Dragon Sect for it, but had been too embarrassed to give it to Chen Ping’an, afraid it might seem like he had ulterior motives.
Now, having drunk the man’s Third Watch Wine, he tossed it to Chen Ping’an and laughed. “Consider this payment for the wine.”
Chen Ping’an caught the wooden plaque and smiled. “Thanks.”

Li Yuan seemed to have finally given up and figured it out. He stood up. “I’m off. Going home to cry.”
Chen Ping’an stood up as well and cupped his fists. “The mountains are high and the rivers long. We’ll meet again.”
Li Yuan paused, nodded, sniffled, and lamented, “The road home is full of confusion; countless mountains and waters beat against the sky.”
Chen Ping’an paused too. Was this a poetry duel? He, Chen Ping’an, couldn’t write poetry himself, but he could borrow from books and chat with Li Yuan for a whole day and night without a problem.

Li Yuan said pitifully, “What are you staring at?”
Chen Ping’an took a sip of wine. He was probably overthinking.

Li Yuan leaped into the great river. But instead of sinking to the bottom and repelling the water, he skimmed across the surface, twisting and turning on his way back. Every now and then, a big fish would be kicked a few zhang high out of the Ji River by Li Yuan, then fall dizzily back into the water.

Chen Ping’an withdrew his gaze, finding it amusing. He began to look forward to Chen Lingjun’s future journey along the great river. He and this Li Yuan would probably get along very well.

Chen Ping’an’s subsequent journey along the river was uneventful, with occasional small sights along the way.
Once, a large boat moored at a ferry at night. Someone lit a lamp on the second floor, and Chen Ping’an saw an official’s wife remove her own head, place it on the table, and gently comb her black hair with an ivory comb.
Seeming to sense Chen Ping’an’s gaze, she tilted her body, letting her head look out the window. Spotting the man in blue, she appeared shy. She put down the comb, put her head back on her neck, and, not daring to meet his eyes directly, performed a curtsy, her hairpin askew, her figure graceful.
Chen Ping’an smiled.
The woman heard a baby crying and immediately walked quickly toward the next room.
Chen Ping’an continued on his way.

That official’s boat didn’t have the gloomy aura of a haunting at all. On the contrary, there seemed to be a wisp of literary fortune lingering around it.

Passing a village by the water, Chen Ping’an saw a foolish village boy. He gently patted his back. In the countryside villages of the world, there always seemed to be one such pitiable person.
Then, under cover of night, Chen Ping’an quietly went to the village ancestral hall to offer incense. He stood by the courtyard well all night, listening to certain “village gossip,” doing small deeds, and left at dawn.

Another winter passed, and spring arrived.
Without realizing it, Chen Ping’an had reached the end of the great river, where it emptied into the sea.
On the previous New Year’s Eve, he had still slept out in the open.

At the river mouth was a large city. Chen Ping’an stood in front of a shop in the city. A customer was asking the shopkeeper if the oranges were sweet. The shopkeeper chuckled. “If I tell you they’re not sweet and you buy them, then they’re not sweet.”
Chen Ping’an felt that this was the true way to be a bundle-carrying peddler with backbone. So he bought an extra catty of oranges from the shopkeeper, keeping only one for himself. He put the rest in his bamboo basket and walked through the streets and alleys. He planned to leave the city, take in the scenery at the great river’s mouth, then go to the immortal ferry at Baby Mountain’s Thunder God Dwelling and take a ferry to Lion’s Peak.

Holding the orange, he walked slowly down the street. Suddenly, he stopped and turned to look at an alley.
In the alley were a female Daoist and a young man.
They were close in age, but different in status. One was a sect master, the other was the direct disciple of the sect’s chief guest elder.
The man had been wondering why the sect master had suddenly changed their route to come to this mortal city full of marketplace atmosphere. Now he knew the answer.
She was waiting for someone.
A shabby, down-on-his-luck traveling scholar?

Chen Ping’an didn’t turn away and continue walking. Instead, he walked straight toward the alley.
He Xiaoliang remained composed and smiled. “Long time no see, Chen Ping’an.”
Chen Ping’an stopped at the mouth of the alley and smiled back. “If it were even longer, that would be even better.”

The man standing one step behind his sect master narrowed his eyes. Though he didn’t say a word, a flicker of killing intent flashed by.
Chen Ping’an asked, “Did you come looking for me again?”
He Xiaoliang’s expression was complex as she shook her head. “Not specifically. I just happened to run into you, so I came to see you.”

The man’s Dao heart was on the verge of shattering. Where had his killing intent gone?
In his mind, the sect master He Xiaoliang, who was like a deity to him, seemed only one step away but was separated by an impassable chasm. He couldn’t even harbor improper thoughts. Even Xu Xuan had been met with indifference. When had she ever treated any man in the world with such special regard?

He Xiaoliang looked at the young man in blue before her. For the first time, she felt a little dazed.
In her memory, it seemed he should have forever been that dark-skinned youth in straw sandals, with a bright, clear gaze.
Not this person before her.