# Chapter 455: Master and Disciple Both Pitiful in Boxing Practice
When they sat down at the table, Li Er felt a bit suspicious. This was only the second time his wife had urged him to drink more, to drink freely without restraint. The last time had been many years ago.
Seeing that Chen Ping'an was deliberately suppressing his boxing intent, and after just a few cups of wine his face had already flushed bright red, Li Er sensed something was off. What, was he planning to get drunk and fall asleep, thinking that would mean one fewer round of beatings? But that didn't seem like something Chen Ping'an would do.
Still, having someone drink joyfully with him made Li Er happy. He put one foot up on the bench, but the moment he raised his leg and hunched over to reach for a piece of winter bamboo shoot stir-fried with meat that was far away, his wife glared at him and scolded him to act like a proper elder. Li Er was caught in a dilemma and had to sit properly. In the past, she had never been so particular. When he occasionally drank a few ounces of wine, his wife never interfered. Their household had always been like that. When Li Huai was little, he liked to squat on the bench gnawing on chicken legs and pork hocks; there was no so-called family discipline. As for women not sitting at the table to eat, Li Er's family had no such rule.
Li Er glanced at the dish that had been deliberately placed close to Chen Ping'an, then noticed his wife glancing at him. He understood immediately—that plate of winter bamboo shoot stir-fried with meat was not for him.
The meat dishes and hearty fare were all on Chen Ping'an's side, while Li Er's side had only bland vegetable dishes. Li Er took a sip of wine and smiled. Actually, this scene wasn't unfamiliar to him.
In the years before Li Huai had left home to study abroad, their home had always been like this.
After Li Huai stayed at the Great Sui Academy to study and conduct research, the three of them had moved to the foot of Lion Peak on Northern Juju Continent. Even though Li Liu often came down the mountain, when the three of them gathered to eat, without Li Huai's rowdy presence, Li Er always felt something was missing. Li Er had never been biased against girls—that had nothing to do with what kind of person his daughter Li Liu was. Over the years, Li Er had only one requirement for Li Liu: handle outside matters outside, don't bring them home. Of course, a son-in-law could be an exception.
Chen Ping'an was about seventy or eighty percent drunk, but not so drunk that his teeth clattered when he spoke, and he could still walk without trouble. He left the eight-immortal table and the main room, went to Li Huai's room to rest, took off his boots, lay down gently, and closed his eyes. Then he suddenly sat up, turned the boots beside the bed so that the toes pointed inward, and then lay back down to sleep peacefully.
It turned out he was missing his hometown of Fallen Mountain and his first disciple.
Li Er was busy clearing the table. His wife was still sitting in her seat and suddenly asked, out of nowhere, "Li Er, what do you think of this child Chen Ping'an?"
Li Er smiled and said, "He's good."
Otherwise, back then, the man wouldn't have thought of privately selling the dragon basket and golden carp to Chen Ping'an. He had gotten a scolding at the Yang Family Shop for that.
His wife lowered her voice and asked, "Do you think this child has his eye on our daughter?"
Li Er stopped what he was doing and said helplessly, "This isn't really a matter of whether he has his eye on her. Chen Ping'an already has someone he likes."
His wife was greatly disappointed. "Our daughter has no fortune."
Li Er smiled but said nothing.
His wife slammed the table and said angrily, "What are you laughing at? Is Li Liu not your biological daughter? Did I give birth to some other man's child?"
Li Er shrank his neck and muttered in a muffled voice, "What nonsense are you saying."
His wife said sorrowfully, "Our daughter is lacking in common sense, her father is unambitious and doesn't care. What sin did our daughter commit in her previous life to be reborn into this family to suffer? Does Li Huai have to support his parents, support a wife, and then take care of his married sister for the rest of her life?"
Li Er asked curiously, "What about Dong Shuijing and Lin Shouyi, who studied at the same school as Li Huai? They both liked our daughter since they were young. I never saw you care about them before. And that scholar who traveled with us last time—didn't you think he looked pretty good too?"
His wife shook her head. "That's different. After looking around, I feel that Chen Ping'an is the one who most resembles Teacher Qi from the school. I can't explain the reasoning, but I'm very accurate at judging people."
Li Er didn't say anything more. He nodded and continued clearing the table.
The last time his wife had let him drink freely was when Teacher Qi had come to their home.
His wife probed, "Does our daughter really have no chance?"
Li Er felt a bit guilty. If he beat Chen Ping'an into a stupor during this round of boxing instruction, even if there had been a chance, there wouldn't be one now, right?
The next day, just before dawn, Chen Ping'an got up and helped carry water. At the well, when the neighbors asked, he said he was a distant relative of the Li family.
Then Li Er took Chen Ping'an out to Lion Peak, telling his wife they were going for a walk in the mountains. His wife beamed, grinning from ear to ear, and said nothing. Li Er was a bit confused, not understanding what scheme she might be hatching.
Li Er led Chen Ping'an straight to the Lion Peak Patriarch Hall.
Along the way, they chatted idly. Regarding Zheng Dafeng's current position as gatekeeper at Fallen Mountain, Li Er thanked Chen Ping'an.
Chen Ping'an said it was nothing.
Li Er said that with Zheng Dafeng's temperament, in the past, having become a cripple in a foreign land, he would never have been willing to return to Yang Family Shop. He would have just muddled through life waiting to die, and that would have truly been the end of him. In that case, his whole life would have been sloppy—his master had never once looked at Zheng Dafeng as a true disciple, and Zheng Dafeng had never dared to think of himself as a disciple. Now, though he had fallen on hard times, master and disciple were truly master and disciple. It was entirely different.
Chen Ping'an had always felt that this Uncle Li was the kind of person who understood life the most clearly in the world.
Now it seemed that was indeed the case.
Lion Peak's mountain lord, Huang Cai, was an old immortal master with an immortal aura.
Among Nascent Soul cultivators in Northern Juju Continent, Huang Cai was renowned for his fighting ability.
Li Er didn't exchange pleasantries. He directly told this famous old Nascent Soul cultivator to seal the mountain.
Huang Cai didn't hesitate for a moment. He immediately passed down the order to seal off Lion Peak Mountain, and didn't mention when it would be opened again.
For an immortal mountain, sealing the mountain was a matter of utmost importance.
Either facing a great enemy, or the ancestor was breaking through a bottleneck in seclusion.
Li Er also handed a piece of paper to the respectfully deferential old Lion Peak mountain lord, telling Huang Cai to gather medicinal ingredients according to what was written on it.
Huang Cai still didn't ask a single question.
But his gaze toward that young foreigner became somewhat strange.
If Chen Ping'an had been a bit oblivious at the foot of the mountain, now that he was dealing with outsiders, he immediately caught on. However, he didn't offer any unnecessary explanations.
Everything could wait until Li Liu returned to Lion Peak.
Li Er took Chen Ping'an to the entrance of an ancient mansion at the summit of Lion Peak. This was the place where Lion Peak's founding ancestor had cultivated in his early years. After he passed away through sword dissolution, the gate had never been opened again. It was only after Li Liu returned to Lion Peak that the mansion gate was reopened. Inside, there was a hidden world that even Huang Cai had no right to set foot in. When Chen Ping'an entered, he found it was actually an underground river passage. Past the mountain and water restrictions at the mansion gate was a dock, where the water was a deep, eerie green. A small boat was moored at the dock. Li Er personally punted the boat forward. Inside the cave dwelling, there was neither sunlight nor moonlight, nor any immortal's luminous stones or candlelight, yet it was still bright as day.
After the small boat traveled more than ten miles, the view suddenly opened up. In the distance, there was a strange mirror as large as a lake, slightly lower than the water's surface. Water poured into it from all directions and disappeared without a trace.
Li Er explained, "This mirror is the entrance to an ancient cave heaven. Someone didn't like that cave heaven, so they built this formation to constantly pour great waters into it. The mirror's surface is extremely tough. Even ordinary 'Qi Flourishing' tenth realm punches won't work. Even when I used eighty 'Return to Truth' punches to shatter it for a moment, it still restored itself. It's said that only the final realm of the tenth realm, 'Spirit Arrival,' can completely break the mirror's surface. I still need to refine my boxing intent for a long time before I have a chance to reach the supreme realm of 'Spirit Arrival.' Only then can I break through the dead end of martial arts and walk a true path to heaven."
Chen Ping'an hesitated for a moment, then couldn't help saying, "Such a precious immortal treasure, wouldn't it be a pity to completely shatter it?"
As for the three realms of martial arts tenth realm, he had heard of them. He just needed to remember them.
Li Er laughed. "When you're at the point where you can break the mirror with your fists, then you'll have the right to talk about whether it would be a pity."
Chen Ping'an felt that until this moment, the person standing beside him was no longer Li Er.
He was a tenth realm martial artist.
The figure of Li Er had disappeared beside him, and Chen Ping'an knew something was wrong. Sure enough, without any warning, a sweeping kick came from behind.
Chen Ping'an's body seemed to collapse, his boxing intent converging. He didn't bother with any style or form, trying to lunge forward, but he was still swiftly kicked in the lower back with a leg. The sound was like a string of firecrackers exploding. Chen Ping'an, whose physical body could easily crush ordinary Golden Body Realm martial artists as if they were paper or mud, was kicked like a drawn bowstring. With a bang, under normal circumstances, Chen Ping'an would have been kicked flying dozens of feet, but Li Er's punches were far faster than Chen Ping'an's momentum. Li Er stood beside Chen Ping'an, throwing a punch downward, smashing into Chen Ping'an's chest as he fell backward.
This punch sent Chen Ping'an crashing to the ground on his back.
Li Er stretched out a foot, twisted his ankle, and casually flicked Chen Ping'an, who had landed on the back of his foot, onto the mirror's surface.
Feeling as if his pure true qi was about to scatter, Chen Ping'an crashed heavily onto the mirror's surface, bounced a few times, then slapped the mirror with his palm, spun and stood up, still unable to stop himself from vomiting a mouthful of blood.
Li Er still stood on the small boat, both man and boat completely still. The man said slowly, "Be careful. When I throw punches, I have no sense of proportion. Back then, when Zhang Changjing and I were both at the ninth realm peak, that fight in Lizhu Cave Heaven was so satisfying that I almost accidentally beat him to death."
Chen Ping'an took a deep breath. Seeing that Li Er didn't immediately strike again, he gently rolled up his sleeves, twisted his toes slightly against the mirror's surface, and found it indeed extremely firm. It felt like walking on the muddy road of Mud Vase Alley and then stepping onto the bluestone streets of Fulu Street and Taoye Alley—a completely different feeling. This meant that getting punched by Li Er was one kind of pain, and then crashing into the mirror's surface added fuel to the fire, much worse than hitting the ground or walls of the bamboo building on Fallen Mountain.
Chen Ping'an swayed and smiled bitterly. "Uncle Li, have you been using only ninth realm punches all this time?"
Li Er shook his head. "Of course not."
Before Chen Ping'an could feel even slightly relieved, Li Er added another sentence, "There are tenth realm ones too."
Since this kid called him "Uncle Li," he couldn't let him say it for nothing.
Li Er felt that one should be honest.
Over meals and wine in Northern Juju Continent, there was recently another huge piece of gossip to talk about.
He Xiaoliang, the sect leader of Qingliang Sect, on her way back to the sect, had inexplicably gotten into a massive conflict with that lovesick fool Xu Xuan.
A man and woman who should have been a perfect pair of dao companions, instead of any sincerity moving heaven and earth, no one knew what Xu Xuan said, but He Xiaoliang actually resorted to violence. In a remote mountain wilderness in Hualing Dynasty, after both sides demarcated their territory, He Xiaoliang and Xu Xuan fought so fiercely that the landscape within a hundred miles changed color, and the spiritual qi of mountains and rivers for a thousand miles became utterly chaotic.
Xu Xuan was severely injured and fled far away, but He Xiaoliang not only killed his two close maidservants, two young golden core female cultivators who perished thus, but also seized the two swords, Ke Zhu and Fu He, and took them to Qingliang Sect. Then she casually threw those two precious treasures outside the mountain gate. This female sect leader put out word that if Xu Xuan had the ability, he could come retrieve them himself. If he lacked both skill and courage, he could have his master Bai Shang come get the swords.
After returning to his mountain, Xu Xuan went into secluded meditation to heal. It was rumored that his originally certain breakthrough to the Upper Five Realms would now be delayed by at least ten years. Thus, at the very least in terms of realm, once Liu Jinglong broke through and withstood three sword challenges from Li Cai and Dong Zhu, Xu Xuan would not only be slower than Liu Jinglong of Taihui Sword Sect by ten years, but among the ten young talents of Northern Juju Continent, Xu Xuan, who was second only to Lin Su, would also trade seats with Liu Jinglong.
The number one great sword immortal of the north, Bai Shang, therefore did not sit idly by. However, he did not rely on his identity as a sword immortal and his realm as an Immortal Realm cultivator to go to Qingliang Sect and make accusations. Bai Shang only said one sentence: as long as he, Bai Shang, remained in Northern Juju Continent, He Xiaoliang would never be able to ascend to the Ascension Realm.
The two sects, which should have had hopes of forming a marriage alliance, had thus become mortal enemies.
Many fence-sitting sects, including Qionglin Sect, began cutting ties with Qingliang Sect, and many commercial exchanges were subjected to numerous obstructions.
Various mortal secular forces, including the Hualing Dynasty's Han imperial family, began secretly reneging on their promises. Many cultivation seedlings originally intended to be sent to Qingliang Sect for training, even those who had already traveled halfway, turned back.
Many immortal mountains around Qingliang Sect also began to intentionally distance themselves from that already unstable sect, strictly forbidding their own mountain cultivators from having too much involvement with Qingliang Sect.
A direct disciple of Heavenly Lord Xie Shi personally and aggressively made a trip to Qingliang Sect, but He Xiaoliang failed to grasp the bigger picture. The two sides, originally on very good terms, parted on bad terms. After that, Qingliang Sect became increasingly isolated, with no help from any direction. Allies were no longer allies, and those who weren't allies became potential hostile forces, causing minor troubles. No one believed that a newly established sect that had thoroughly angered the great sword immortal Bai Shang could remain prosperous in Northern Juju Continent for long.
Internally, Qingliang Sect was also in turmoil.
Half of the sect's honored guests and retainers had distanced themselves from Qingliang Sect, sending secret letters one after another. Overnight, the number of seats in the patriarch hall decreased by more than five.
He Xiaoliang was also an odd one. She didn't smash or break those seats; she just moved them out of the patriarch hall and placed them under the eaves outside.
The sect, which already had few disciples, became even more desolate.
Fortunately, the nine registered disciples that He Xiaoliang had gathered during her travels in Northern Juju Continent were still relatively stable; none had yet chosen to defect from Qingliang Sect. In the eyes of outsiders, it was because those fellows simply didn't understand the significance of the name Bai Shang, nor did they know the extreme danger of making enemies and tearing apart face in the mountains.
These nine first-generation disciples after Qingliang Sect's founding had been gradually brought back to the mountain by He Xiaoliang. They were mostly ordinary mortals from the secular world who had never cultivated before. Their ages were not too disparate; the oldest was only thirty, and the youngest was just a child of five or six. He Xiaoliang's method of accepting disciples was very strange. She looked at talent and aptitude, but that wasn't the most important factor. As long as they could walk the path of cultivation, that was enough. She cared more about her own affinity with them.
Today, He Xiaoliang left the small cave heaven where she cultivated alone. Qingliang Sect occupied a place with excellent feng shui, but they hadn't done much large-scale construction. They only cleared a small area halfway up the ancestral mountain, where several thatched cottages stood close together. All nine disciples lived there. The only place that looked somewhat like a wealthy household was the hall used for teaching and lecturing—similar to a wealthy family's ancestral hall in the secular world, where one could worship ancestors or invite a scholar to lecture to the clan's disciples.
When He Xiaoliang accepted disciples, she only taught them a single Daoist mantra with no high or low distinctions. After that, she didn't manage much else. However, she hired an outsider to give daily lessons to the disciples. This person was neither an honored guest nor a retainer, but he had been lecturing to the nine disciples of Qingliang Sect for several years. He was not limited to analyzing the mysteries of Daoist texts; he taught knowledge from all three teachings and hundred schools of thought. He Xiaoliang seemed to trust this "Mr. Li" very much, not worrying that his lectures would mislead the disciples or hinder their cultivation, nor that he would turn her sect—which she had declared would accept no new disciples for a hundred years—into a strange, neither-fish-nor-fowl immortal sect.
The nine disciples, who were still registered disciples, deeply respected that young Mr. Li, whose surname they only knew.
He Xiaoliang came to the window of the lecture hall.
Mr. Li was lecturing on Confucian poetry and prose. Earlier, he had discussed what was good about "a pond grows spring grass" and "bright moon shines upon the high tower," expressing admiration that such seemingly straightforward poems required the most skill, and would make later poets regret being born a thousand years too late. Then he smoothly transitioned to talking about how the temperament of a founding ancestor of a wealthy secular household or a mountain sect would influence the family's or sect's ethos, and finally told the nine disciples that if they were to become founding ancestors in the future, how they should act to make fewer mistakes and do more right things.
Someone saw the master appear and was about to stand up and bow, but He Xiaoliang pressed her hand down twice, indicating that in a place of learning, the lecturer was supreme.
Young-faced Mr. Li posed a question for the nine students to ponder, then left the schoolroom and followed He Xiaoliang.
He said, "Sect Leader He, you clearly didn't need to act this way... Never mind, I won't ask the reasons as an outsider. But I am certain that Bai Shang never goes back on his word."
Even if He Xiaoliang was the direct disciple of that Daoist patriarch, she was still separated by an entire world.
Besides, when a sword immortal of Northern Juju Continent was truly enraged, why would they care about such things?
Now Bai Shang had made it clear he wouldn't care.
It was said that in the earliest days of Northern Juju Continent, there was an ancient sword immortal who once pointed his sword tip at a student of the Supreme Sage and asked with a smile whether he thought the sword would strike or not.
The answer, of course, was that it would strike without hesitation.
But in the end, that sword immortal died on the Sword Qi Great Wall, and that Confucian sage founded Fushui Academy in Northern Juju Continent, taking care of the sword immortal's descendants during his lifetime.
He Xiaoliang smiled and said, "Mr. Li, I've only been at the Jade Cultivation realm for a few years. It will take at least several hundred years for me to reach the next Immortal Realm and encounter a bottleneck. Bai Shang can wait if he wants."
This scholar, whom He Xiaoliang respectfully called Mr. Li, said, "Earlier, that disciple of Heavenly Lord Xie Shi was quite overbearing."
He Xiaoliang said, "He received guidance from Bai Shang during his travels back then; Bai Shang had a favor of passing on teachings to him. Moreover, Qingliang Sect's establishment has squeezed out a considerable portion of the Daoist sect's qi fortune in Northern Juju Continent. Naturally, this person would tend to favor Xu Xuan and Bai Shang."
Mr. Li shook his head. "If reasoning can be applied and borrowed like this, then I think Heavenly Lord Xie Shi's transmission of the teachings is deeply problematic."
He Xiaoliang held back her laughter.
Mr. Li asked doubtfully, "Am I wrong?"
First examining one's own faults in all matters was the foundation of this scholar's scholarly work.
He Xiaoliang shook her head. "I hope Mr. Li can say that one day."
Mr. Li smiled. "If there's an opportunity, I can try. But from the way Heavenly Lord Xie and his entire sect act, it might not be well-received."
He Xiaoliang didn't dwell on this question, afraid she might laugh out loud. At the same time, she felt some pity for that disciple of the Heavenly Lord.
She turned her head and looked toward a clear-featured youth under the thatched cottage in the distance. His name was Cui Ci, and he was a book boy who had traveled across continents with Mr. Li for many years.
Mr. Li said, "I should go down the mountain."
He Xiaoliang made a Daoist salute. "I dare not keep you any longer, sir."
Li Xisheng returned the bow as a Confucian scholar.
Even though the other party did not return the salute with a Daoist gesture, He Xiaoliang still sidestepped slightly to avoid it. But as a Jade Cultivation realm cultivator in her own sect, her movement was imperceptible. To the porcelain figure Cui Ci, the female sect leader remained standing in place and generously accepted the bow from her teacher.
The imperial study of Da Li's capital.
The small court session had ended.
National Teacher Cui Chan had rarely stayed behind.
This had never happened before.
Emperor Song He didn't ask questions, just quietly waited for the National Teacher to continue.
Cui Chan stood up from his chair, pressed two fingers together, and gently swept them. In the imperial study, a long landscape scroll appeared, showing the three continents of Vase Bottle Continent, Northern Juju Continent, and Tongye Continent.
The young emperor quickly stood up and walked to Cui Chan's side.
Cui Chan said slowly, "In the grand court session, a monarch and his civil and military officials discuss current affairs, nothing beyond a year. In the small court session, a monarch and his generals and ministers discuss long-term matters of ten years. What I discuss privately with Your Majesty today is a hundred-year plan. Your Majesty may see part of the process, but may not live to see the final result."
Song He said softly, "Like when my late father couldn't see the hooves of the Da Li iron cavalry stepping on the seaside of Old Dragon City?"
Cui Chan said bluntly, "Something like that."
Far from being disappointed, Song He was filled with joy. He smiled and said, "Teacher, I've actually been waiting for this day."
In front of this National Teacher, as long as no other ministers were present, the young emperor always maintained the attitude of a student.
He didn't need the Empress Dowager's reminder for that.
Cui Chan said, "Once the situation in Vase Bottle Continent is settled, it will inevitably be handed over to the Hanlin Academy to compile biographies of ministers from various vassal states into 'Biographies of Twice-Serving Officials' and 'Biographies of Loyal Officials.' Moreover, this absolutely cannot be concluded during Your Majesty's reign, to avoid chilling the hearts of those in court. It can only be done by the next emperor. This is a family matter of Vase Bottle Continent and the Da Li dynasty. Your Majesty can first consider it and draw up a plan. Later I'll see if there are any omissions that need to be filled. Mending people's hearts is as important as repairing old mountains and rivers."
After saying this, Cui Chan pointed to Northern Juju Continent north of Vase Bottle Continent. "Looking at such a vast Northern Juju Continent, what thoughts does Your Majesty have?"
Song He replied, "Compared to before, it is quite hollow in the middle."
A whole continent's sword cultivators had already gone to Inverted Mountain in great numbers.
Cui Chan nodded and said, "I advise Your Majesty: the Song family of Da Li should never think of encroaching on the territory of other continents. It cannot be done."
Song He felt some regret.
He had thought that this National Teacher of Da Li, his own teacher, would have greater ambitions.
Cui Chan laughed. "Great ambition but little talent is also hollow in the middle."
Song He's expression was awkward.
Cui Chan pointed to Skeleton Beach at the southernmost tip of Northern Juju Continent. "A long bridge needs to be built between Piyun Mountain and Skeleton Beach to connect the two continents. How does Your Majesty think it should be constructed?"
Song He smiled. "With immortal money."
Cui Chan nodded, but then asked, "Where does the true source of immortal money come from?"
Song He's gaze swept across the scroll, looking toward the continent farther south than Vase Bottle Continent. "Tongye Continent, which is destined to shatter?"
Cui Chan neither nodded in agreement nor shook his head in denial. He simply asked, "Fundamentally, how does one earn money and spend money?"
Song He shook his head. The question was too broad.
Cui Chan said, "Understanding how to earn money is for the sake of how to spend it. Otherwise, what's the point of keeping it in Da Li's state treasury? Can mountains of gold and silver in one family's coffers be eaten? This is precisely Da Li's Song family's self-rescue plan after taking an entire continent as its kingdom's territory."
Cui Chan raised both sleeves, pointing simultaneously at Northern Juju Continent to the north and Tongye Continent to the south of East Vase Bottle Continent, giving his answer. "How to earn money by the rules from Northern Juju Continent is to be able to reasonably remedy the shattered mountains and rivers of Tongye Continent. This inflow and outflow make Da Li seem not to profit, but in reality, it is constantly accumulating national strength and foundation. At the same time, we gain the approval of the Confucian Sage Temple. It's not that I, Cui Chan, or you, Emperor Song He, are good at interpersonal relations—it's that Da Li's national policy truly aligns with Confucian rites and rules, becoming an inevitable trend. Thus, if you, Song He, and I, Cui Chan, make certain people unhappy, even if they have the ability to make you, me, and Da Li unhappy, the Sage Temple has sages watching coldly from the sidelines, teaching them that the moment they reach out, they'll get their hands slapped."
Cui Chan lowered his hands, turned his head, and stared at Song He. This sinister tiger's expression turned slightly cold. "Telling Your Majesty all this doesn't mean Your Majesty is wiser than the late emperor. It just means Your Majesty is luckier—ascending the throne later, the dragon throne is higher. But Your Majesty doesn't need to be upset. The merits and demerits of the past belong to the late emperor. The achievements from now on should belong to Your Majesty alone. When governing the country, Your Majesty has no need to compete with a dead late emperor. If you fail to recognize this, then I think my words to Your Majesty today were premature."
Song He bowed deeply and said, "Teacher's instruction, this student will remember."
Cui Chan said, "Erasing some traces of the late emperor's governance—the late emperor is dead, a new emperor has ascended. What's so difficult about that? Old foxes like Minister Guan will only laugh at Your Majesty for being petty as an emperor. You don't even need to say or do much more. Just endure a few more years, and the civil and military officials, old and young, will naturally become clever enough to leave no trace. Having become the emperor of the Song family of Da Li, with ambitions for an entire continent and seas surrounding the kingdom on all sides, this is already an unprecedented feat in the Haoran World. You must display a ruler's magnanimity to match it. When the day comes that the old court ministers remain loyal and reverent to you even without me, Cui Chan, sitting in the small court session—that will be Your Majesty's true skill. And if one day, even when I sit in that session, I dare no longer regard you as a student, then Song He will be a true eternal emperor."
Cui Chan continued, "Both things are naturally very difficult, but Your Majesty can try. The so-called inscrutability of imperial temperament is all technique. It cannot be completely absent, but it must not be paramount. Even if the Song family's dynasty eventually comes to an end, whenever future histories write of Da Li, the chapter on Song He will be the most vibrant and memorable. They won't be able to avoid it. Either the most praise or the most condemnation."
Finally, Cui Chan smiled and said, "I've discussed some cross-continent plans and existing chess pieces with Your Majesty. Ultimately, Your Majesty is still Your Majesty, and the National Teacher will only be the National Teacher."
After one particularly brutal session of boxing practice, Pei Qian was carried back to the first floor by Chen Ruchu. For the first time, she got three full days of rest, and that didn't even count the day and night she had spent unable to move while lying in bed.
Just then, she heard that Wei Bo was about to host his third Divine Night Banquet. This made Pei Qian, who had finished copying her books, overjoyed.
Zhu Lian said this was called "three days without beating someone, and they'll tear off the roof tiles."
Pei Qian was in a good mood and didn't argue with the old chef.
Besides, in the last letter her master had sent back to Fallen Mountain, he had formally agreed at the end to promote Zhou Mili to Right Guardian of Fallen Mountain. After reading the letter seventeen or eighteen times, the first time she went to the second floor to practice boxing, she puffed out her chest, stomped each step on the bamboo stairs with a loud thud, and yelled loudly for Old Man Cui to open the door and feed her some punches, warning him not to be drowsy.
Down on the first floor, Chen Lingjun watched and wondered if Pei Qian had been beaten stupid, or if she had gone into qi deviation.
Now, in Zhu Lian's courtyard, Wei Bo was playing chess with Zheng Dafeng.
Chen Ruchu was gently cracking melon seeds.
Chen Lingjun had bet that Zheng Dafeng would win and placed a large handful of snowflake coins beside Brother Zheng's chess bowl. But Zhu Lian kept muttering that now that Wei Bo was an Jade Cultivation realm immortal, his chess skill had skyrocketed, so Wei Bo's chances of winning were greater. Looking at the game's progress, Chen Lingjun then placed a small summer coin beside Wei Bo's bowl.
Pei Qian led Zhou Mili, who carried her mountain-walking staff, as they ran in circles around the stone table where everyone sat.
Pei Qian swaggered along, swinging her arms wildly, shouting, "Dong qiang dong, lang li ge qiang, lang li ge qiang, dong dong qiang... Another banquet at the village head! From one end to the other!... The gold of the Liu family, the silver of the Li family, the coins of the Han family, all obediently come sleep in my pocket."
Wei Bo rested his elbow on the table and rubbed his forehead with his fingers.
Once aboard a pirate ship, it was hard to get off.
Anyway, his reputation as the Northern March God was thoroughly ruined.
Zheng Dafeng shouted angrily, "You little money-loser! If you keep making noise and cause me to lose the game, and Brother Lingjun loses his money, you'll pay for it!"
Pei Qian kept running without stopping. "Pay for what? Are you dumb or what?"
Pei Qian continued humming her folk song.
Zhou Mili ran behind Pei Qian and asked doubtfully, "Where is that song from? I've never heard it before."
Pei Qian stopped, crossed her arms, and said, "It's a ballad from my hometown. Unfortunately, it was written too well and didn't spread."
Zhou Mili felt that something about Pei Qian's words didn't make sense, so she hugged her staff, frowned, and fell into thought.
Zhu Lian was waiting for Cui Dongshan's letter. After that, he would wait for Lu Baixiang to arrive at Fallen Mountain. Together they would attend Wei Bo's night banquet, and then go with Liu Zhongrun of Pearl Hairpin Island to search for the water palace dragon boat.
It was somewhat different from what Chen Ping'an had written in his letter. After getting Cui Dongshan's reply, Zhu Lian learned that he didn't need to worry about the Da Li iron cavalry and spies—Cui Dongshan would handle it himself. It was only proper that they take the fallen princess back to her homeland.
Nevertheless, Zhu Lian still told Liu Zhongrun about the extreme dangers of this matter, suggesting it would be better not to do it, as it could cause considerable trouble. In any case, Zhu Lian scared Liu Zhongrun with a bunch of alarmist talk.
As a result, after weighing the pros and cons, Liu Zhongrun gritted his teeth and decided not to touch the water palace dragon boat. Only then did Zhu Lian let Liu Zhongrun stew for a few days before saying that circumstances had changed—Fallen Mountain was willing to take on more risk, so the two sides could actually try it, but the profit split could no longer be fifty-fifty. Fallen Mountain had to take an extra twenty percent. After some bargaining, it became a sixty-forty split between Turtleback Island and Fallen Mountain.
Zhu Lian didn't actually intend to take that extra ten percent profit. When he and Lu Baixiang accompanied Liu Zhongrun to seek treasure, he would have his reason. He would say that the master of Fallen Mountain, who was traveling far away, had replied, instructing him, Zhu Lian, to follow the original plan of a fifty-fifty split.
By then, everything would seem to return to the original arrangement.
It wasn't that Zhu Lian had been busy for nothing.
When Piyun Mountain officially held the night banquet, Pei Qian and Zhou Mili did not attend. Pei Qian was busy copying more books so she wouldn't owe too much debt due to boxing practice.
Strangely, even Chen Lingjun didn't go to join the fun.
Instead, his friend the Yujiang Water God later made a special trip to Fallen Mountain to ask why Chen Lingjun hadn't shown up.
After that, Zhu Lian and Lu Baixiang went down the mountain to handle their business. Liu Zhongrun accompanied them, full of anxiety, feeling that the future was uncertain, with blessings and misfortunes intertwined—especially since they were digging for treasure right under the noses of the Da Li iron cavalry.
Lu Baixiang's two disciples, Yuanbao and Yuanlai, brother and sister, stayed on Fallen Mountain.
They got along fairly well with Cen Yuanji, whom Zhu Lian had brought up the mountain.
The three days of frolicking outside the bamboo building were worlds apart from the three days of boxing practice inside.
Zhou Mili carried her mountain-walking staff and stood guard on the path from the mansion to the bamboo building, forbidding any outsiders from approaching. This was an order from the chief steward Zhu Lian, and Zhou Mili didn't dare leave her post. However, whenever Chen Ruchu finished her tasks, she would come and snack on melon seeds and pastries with Zhou Mili. When it was time for her to do something, Chen Ruchu would leave.
Zhou Mili obediently squatted in the circle that Pei Qian had drawn for her.
At first, Zhou Mili felt wronged, thinking that Pei Qian's circle was too small, making her territory as the Right Guardian of Fallen Mountain seem insufficient.
Pei Qian asked her about the door gods pasted on the doors of the shops in Qilong Alley. Their territory was just a small piece of paper—was it even as big as the circle under her feet? Did those door gods ever complain or grumble? Pei Qian finally asked sternly, "Zhou Mili, is your tail getting a bit too high now that you're the Right Guardian?"
Zhou Mili quickly shook her head vigorously.
Alone in her circle, Zhou Mili moved slowly around it, inch by inch, following the invisible boundary.
Every time the black-clothed girl carrying her staff took a step or two, a little lotus figure would pop out of the ground behind her and trot a few steps to follow.
On the second floor of the bamboo building.
Cui Cheng stepped on Pei Qian's forehead, grinding his heel, and looked down, asking, "Before practicing today, you little waste, you dared to ask this old man when the boxing practice would ever end."
Cui Cheng kicked Pei Qian's temple, then turned to look at the girl curled up against the wall. "First walk to the dead end of the dead-end road before you talk."
Pei Qian slowly stretched her body, having forcibly saved up an extra breath for herself. Her face was covered in blood. She staggered to her feet, opened her mouth wide, tilted her head, and extended two fingers to wiggle a tooth, then yanked it out with force.
She carefully tucked that bloodstained tooth into her sleeve. Her master had once said that when children grow up and lose their teeth, they should throw them to the top of the bed to make a wish for safety.
Pei Qian bent over, clenched her fists, then loosened them, staring fixedly at Cui Cheng.
She rose on her toes, leaped into the air, stepped heavily on the bamboo wall behind her, shot forward like an arrow, then suddenly dropped, twisted her ankle, slid a few steps sideways, and adopted a cavalry charge formation. Her fist frame opened wide, and she threw a punch—the "Divine Man Beats Drum" style.
Pei Qian probably didn't know that the Divine Man Beats Drum style was the fist frame her master used least when confronting Cui Cheng.
Because he knew it was the most useless.
But Pei Qian was the exact opposite—this punch was the one she used most often against this old man.
Time and again she failed; time and again she threw the punch again.
The old man punched Pei Qian's head. Unexpectedly, as Pei Qian's body flew backward, she kicked out viciously.
Clearly, she had thought from the start: you hit me, and I'll kick you back.
Unfortunately, Cui Cheng caught her ankle, lifted her high, and slammed her hard to the ground. Pei Qian's body curled up again. Her breathing changed between fast and slow in an instant, flowing naturally.
Cui Cheng sneered, "A little waste like you, even inferior to Chen Ping'an—if I were that big waste, I'd think you're just wasting your meals and squandering Fallen Mountain's resources! And you think you can touch even a corner of this old man's clothes? Do you take me for that drowsy Cen Yuanji? Try again! Don't play dead. If you can so much as graze my clothes, I'll take your surname."
Pei Qian slammed her elbow heavily against the ground, leaped into the air, and stood swaying. She said haltingly and indistinctly, "No need to take my surname... take my master's surname instead... but you need to see if my master agrees."
Cui Cheng stepped right in front of Pei Qian in one stride, one hand behind his back, the other five fingers gripping Pei Qian's face. He stepped again, smashing Pei Qian's whole body against the wall.
Her hands and feet hung limply downward.
Cui Cheng released his grip. Pei Qian slumped to the ground, her back against the wall, a large smear of blood trailing from her head on the wall above.
Cui Cheng sneered, "Only a cowardly waste like Chen Ping'an, who fears death and clings to life, would raise a cowardly waste like you. You master and disciple should have stayed in Mud Vase Alley forever, picking up chicken and dog droppings every day! Chen Ping'an was truly blind to choose you, Pei Qian, as his so-called first disciple. You're destined to be a miserable worm hiding behind him forever. You deserve to be called 'disciple'? You deserve to talk about 'opening a mountain'?"
Pei Qian's fingers twitched slightly. Finally, with difficulty, she raised her head and moved her lips.
But the old man stepped on her forehead again, bent over, and said, "Little waste, what are you mumbling? This old man asks you to speak louder! Are you saying this old man is right? You and Chen Ping'an should have spent your lives in Mud Vase Alley dealing with chicken and dog droppings? What, you use your staff to pick up the droppings while Chen Ping'an holds a basket? Perfect. Then you won't need to practice boxing too long. When Chen Ping'an rolls back to Fallen Mountain, you two wastes, big and small, can go back to Mud Vase Alley."
Pei Qian, still sitting on the ground, slowly raised her hand and threw a punch at Cui Cheng's foot.
The old man withdrew his foot. After the punch missed, he switched feet and stomped hard on Pei Qian's head.
After a moment, Pei Qian changed hands and raised her arm to punch again.
Only then did the old man step back a few paces, clicking his tongue. "With this skill, you can go with that waste Chen Ping'an to Fulu Street or Taoye Alley to polish the boots of those rich masters for a living. Chen Ping'an polishes their boots clean, and you, as his disciple, can smile, bow, and say, 'Welcome, sir, please come again.'"
Pei Qian pressed her hands and back firmly against the wall, standing up inch by inch. She strained to open her eyes and moved her mouth, but ultimately couldn't make a sound.
The old man smiled, knowing exactly what this little thing was cursing him in her mind.
Pei Qian bent over, breathing softly, her vision blurred, unable to see anything clearly.
The old man turned and walked toward the bamboo door. He looked back and said with a smile, "This old man will open the door now. You can write to Chen Ping'an and say that you, as a disciple, can finally share your master's worries. You've come up with a good way for master and disciple to earn money? Since Chen Ping'an is a mud-legged commoner, saddled with a worthless disciple like you, earning such lowly money—it's shameful, but what can he do? I don't think there's anything he can do!"
In an instant.
Cui Cheng stopped in his tracks and narrowed his eyes.
Pei Qian, who was almost unconscious, instinctively opened her eyes wide. She swayed, took one step forward, then swayed even more with the next step. After a few steps, she vanished.
Her foot swept sideways, suddenly came to a halt, leaped high, and pounced forward. She threw a punch straight down at Cui Cheng's head.
Just like that year in the small town, when the straw-sandal youth swooped like an eagle over the stream.
Cui Cheng hesitated for a moment, then still shifted his shoulder to dodge Pei Qian's punch. But the old man didn't strike back this time. He just turned to look. The girl was crouching near the doorway, having already lost consciousness.
Probably she was blocking his way, preventing him, Cui Cheng, from opening the door?
Cui Cheng walked over to the girl, sat cross-legged, and gently pressed his hand on her blood-soaked little head. He nodded and smiled. "Very good."