# Chapter 559: About to Speak Yet Words Forgotten
A ferry heading toward the Central Mountain territory of the old Zhuying Dynasty made a stop at a dock called Zhangyun Ferry.
Two men and one woman quietly disembarked.
Wei Bo stood on the observation deck atop the ferry, watching the three depart.
After approaching the Zhuying Dynasty, he had left his own mountain and entered someone else's territory. His perception of Piyun Mountain had weakened considerably. By the time he reached the new Central Mountain of Great Li, he would face even greater natural suppression. This was an unwritten rule that all mountain and water deities in the world had to obey—mountain gods crossing rivers, water gods climbing mountains, all would find themselves constrained. Even a Great Mountain Lord leaving his own jurisdiction to visit a fellow Mountain Lord could not escape this principle.
But even so, it wasn't much of a problem.
After all, Wei Bo was now the first Upper Fifth Realm Mountain Lord in the history of Bottle Gown Continent. That Central Mountain Lord who was rather lacking in courtesy, even if equivalent to Jade Purity Realm, was not truly an Upper Fifth Realm deity.
This departure from the Northern Mountain territory, whether for public or private reasons, Wei Bo had a reasonable explanation. The Great Li court, even if not entirely pleased, was willing to turn a blind eye.
Wei Bo's patron in the Great Li official halls was Xu Ruo, the Mohist wandering knight.
Back then, Wei Bo had left Chess Dun Mountain together with Xu Ruo to go to Piyun Mountain.
Zhu Lian, with his hunched figure, carried no weapons.
Lu Baixiang, tall and slender, wore the narrow saber "Stopping Snow" at his waist.
At the dock, after disembarking, Liu Zhongrun couldn't help but say to Zhu Lian walking beside him, "Mr. Zhu, finding the Water Hall and Dragon Boat is not difficult. The Water Hall is manageable—it's an ancient immortal's fully refined object. I have the method to open this immortal treasure. It can be collapsed to the size of a carriage and transported onto a ferry. But the Dragon Boat has only been lightly refined. To bring it back to Longquan County, we'd have to spend some spirit coins and sail it like a ferry, making a conspicuous journey."
Zhu Lian smiled. "No matter. The Great Li cavalry will have special people escorting us on the treasure hunt. Afterward, we'll ride the Dragon Boat back to Fallen Mountain with no obstacles."
Liu Zhongrun smiled bitterly. "Mr. Zhu, you're not joking, are you?"
Zhu Lian said with a straight face, "Island Lord Liu is a sect master and a Golden Core earth immortal who rides clouds and mists. I'm just an old codger—how would I dare be presumptuous?"
Liu Zhongrun felt they would have to take things one step at a time.
The Water Hall and Dragon Boat had long been a thorn in Liu Zhongrun's side.
Giving them away was a great art in itself. Even if she offered them, if she gave them to the wrong person, it would mean decades of turmoil for Pearl Hairpin Island, and whether the ancestral hall could be preserved was uncertain.
Before doing business with Fallen Mountain, in order to maintain her foothold in Shujian Lake without being annexed by True Mirror Sect as a vassal island, Liu Zhongrun had weighed the pros and cons and revealed the Water Hall's existence to True Mirror Sect. Pearl Hairpin Island was under someone else's roof and had to bow its head. Liu Zhongrun considered it paying money to avoid disaster. True Mirror Sect, as the subordinate sect of the Jade Token Sect—the leader of Parasol Leaf Continent—proved worthy of its reputation. They did not harbor evil intentions or stoop to murder and theft. Pearl Hairpin Island not only preserved its ancestral hall but also obtained a "Peace and No Trouble Token" issued by the Great Li Ministry of Justice for mountain-top cultivators. This was why Liu Zhongrun had not personally visited Fallen Mountain the first time, instead sending several core disciples of Pearl Hairpin Island who were somewhat familiar with Chen Ping'an.
But subsequent developments exceeded imagination. For some reason, True Mirror Sect actually gave up claiming the Water Hall. Not only that, they did not take back the Peace and No Trouble Token. Liu Zhongrun, fearful and anxious, made a trip to Palisade Willow Island. Of course, she couldn't see that elusive Sect Leader Jiang, only the chief offering master of True Mirror Sect, Liu Laocheng. Liu Laocheng said it was the sect leader's intention and told Liu Zhongrun not to worry—the token wouldn't burn her hands. With a few words, he sent her away.
Leaving Palisade Willow Island, worried? Liu Zhongrun was anything but reassured.
But she was helpless. She couldn't force True Mirror Sect to accept the Water Hall.
So Liu Zhongrun finally decided to relocate to Longquan County and visit Fallen Mountain in person. She chose Tortoise Shell Back as her site. When she revealed the secret matter to Fallen Mountain, she did not hide that True Mirror Sect knew about the Water Hall and Dragon Boat, and even told them about True Mirror Sect's decision. The chief steward Zhu Lian had smiled oddly at the time and also told Island Lord Liu to rest assured. Zhu Lian even promised that even if Fallen Mountain didn't excavate the treasure, at the very least, this information would never be leaked to anyone, so that Pearl Hairpin Island cultivators wouldn't invite disaster by carrying a priceless treasure.
Liu Zhongrun still couldn't relax.
Now, actually embarking on the treasure hunt in her homeland, Liu Zhongrun was overwhelmed with emotions. If not for the Water Hall and Dragon Boat's reemergence, she would never have set foot on this land of heartbreak again.
Regarding the decision on the Water Hall and Dragon Boat, Liu Zhongrun had no hesitation.
The Water Hall was a sect's foundation—a natural immortal cave that combined ancestral hall, earth immortal cultivation site, and mountain-water formation all in one. In the water-rich Shujian Lake, even earth immortal cultivators would covet it. It could support an Infant Soul realm cultivator's practice. So when True Mirror Sect had immediately traded her a priceless Peace and No Trouble Token, that was sincerity.
The enormous Dragon Boat, though not capable of crossing continents, could carry large amounts of goods across an entire continent. For a small sect like Pearl Hairpin Island, it was a chicken bone—tasteless but a pity to discard. For the ambitious Fallen Mountain, however, it was exactly what they urgently needed.
While Liu Zhongrun was lost in thought, Lu Baixiang was speaking secretly with Zhu Lian using the martial technique of concentrating sound into a thread. Lu Baixiang asked with a smile, "Even if you successfully retrieve the Dragon Boat, you'll still have to travel around. Won't that interfere with your cultivation? Becoming the face of Fallen Mountain means you can no longer be the untamed martial madman. Won't that make you unhappy every day?"
Zhu Lian answered with a smile, "Busy every day—I'm perfectly happy."
Lu Baixiang said, "If you, Zhu Lian, have any schemes, and they are exposed, even if Chen Ping'an forgives you out of old friendship, I will kill you with my own hands."
Zhu Lian said, "You won't have that opportunity."
Lu Baixiang asked, "Do you mean that you're destined to be beyond my ability to kill, or that you're genuinely behaving yourself at Fallen Mountain?"
Zhu Lian countered, "Lord Lu, with such grand talent and vision—in the history of the Lotus Flower Blessed Land, Lu Baixiang was always decisive in killing. How have you become so long-winded?"
Lu Baixiang said no more.
In that world, Lu Baixiang was from an earlier generation; Zhu Lian was from a later one.
Zhu Lian smiled. "Indeed, only my young master truly understands me. Cui Dongshan only understands half. As for you three fellow townsmen, even less."
Lu Baixiang smiled dismissively, gently stroking the hilt of his narrow saber.
Zhu Lian glanced at Lu Baixiang's small gesture. "Do you believe that right now, you can't even draw your saber from its sheath?"
Lu Baixiang smiled. "Not quite."
Zhu Lian said, "Find an opportunity to spar with you?"
Lu Baixiang shook his head. "Let's save it for now. We'll talk in a few years."
Zhu Lian laughed. "I'm just afraid that Lord Lu, all alone with the emperor far away, has gotten too comfortable in this remote corner. The easy life might make you forget your place."
Lu Baixiang turned to look at Zhu Lian.
Zhu Lian met his gaze. "Lu Baixiang, coming from a Lotus Flower Blessed Land without any cultivators to this Haoran World full of ghosts, monsters, and immortals—especially in recent years—have you been keeping that saber close at hand? What's the matter? With a dharma saber in hand, do you feel you own the world? Why not just go ahead and learn from Sui Youbian and start cultivating immortals directly? Wouldn't that be better?"
Lu Baixiang frowned. "You hide on Fallen Mountain—do you need to be constantly alert for battle? How can you compare to me?"
Zhu Lian snorted. "Practicing fist arts is your own business. Don't ask me for answers—nice ones, harsh ones, whatever you want to hear, I can say anything. As for the truth, you have to ask yourself."
Lu Baixiang sighed. "It is somewhat troublesome."
Zhu Lian smiled. "In a small place, if your talent is good and fortune not bad, some impurities won't show. In a greater world, they become apparent. Among the four of us from the painting scroll, I find you slightly more agreeable. So I'll say fewer flattering things."
Lu Baixiang nodded, taking it in.
Although Liu Zhongrun didn't know what they were discussing, the moment Lu Baixiang's killing intent had flashed, it made her—a Golden Core earth immortal—feel a chill.
And who was Lu Baixiang? Just one name on the Fallen Mountain ancestral hall registry.
Liu Zhongrun's mood darkened. When would Pearl Hairpin Island become a truly stable immortal sect? One that didn't have to watch others' faces or lease mountain territories?
Leaving Shujian Lake with all core disciples, leaving only an empty ancestral hall, settling in Longquan County on Tortoise Shell Back—was it really a wise choice?
Liu Zhongrun still didn't know the answer.
For now, she only knew that Zhu Lian and Lu Baixiang nearby were both top-tier martial grandmasters. In any dynasty in Bottle Gown Continent's history, they would be honored guests of emperors and generals, not to be slighted. Their formidable fists were one reason, but more critical was that martial artists of the Refining Spirit Three Realms already involved a nation's martial fortune. They were no less important than mountain-water deities who consolidated regional fortunes—perhaps even more so.
But exactly what martial realm Zhu Lian and Lu Baixiang were, Liu Zhongrun couldn't be sure. As for who was stronger, she had no way of knowing, having never seen them truly fight.
Her impression of Zhu Lian was mainly as Fallen Mountain's chief steward, always smiling. After several dealings, aside from his flawless social skills and business acumen, Liu Zhongrun actually knew little about him. The more she met him, the more he seemed like a flower seen through fog.
Lu Baixiang, on the other hand, was clearly someone not to be trifled with. His imposing aura was obvious even to the blind.
Liu Zhongrun felt that Fallen Mountain seemed to hide many unknown secrets. Every time she came into contact with them, another secret would surface, overwhelming her.
Great Li's Northern Mountain Lord Wei Bo was a frequent visitor to Fallen Mountain. And that hunched man with the crooked gaze showed Wei Bo not a shred of respect.
At the Coin Press Shop on Riding Dragon Alley, the shopkeeper surnamed Shi had a strange appearance with a hint of yin aura, making Liu Zhongrun completely unable to gauge his depth.
Chen Ruchu, Chen Lingjun, Zhou Mili—three spirits. Especially the green-robed child, who seemed on the verge of a Dragon Gate realm breakthrough. If it reached Golden Core, a dragon-type Golden Core demon could rival half an Infant Soul. But apparently, Chen Lingjun was the least favored on Fallen Mountain, and it didn't seem to find anything wrong with being ignored. In Shujian Lake, wouldn't it have rebelled long ago?
Liu Zhongrun sometimes wondered: Was that young mountain lord trying to leap to heaven overnight, turning the obscure Fallen Mountain in Longquan County directly into a sect-level establishment, competing with Sage Ruan Qiong's Longquan Sword Sect?
Wasn't that a bit fanciful?
After all, Fallen Mountain had more martial artists than cultivators, and none seemed likely to reach Upper Fifth Realm as powerful earth immortals.
In contrast, the neighboring Longquan Sword Sect, though still having few cultivators, had Sage Ruan Qiong himself, Dong Gu who was already Golden Core, and Ruan Qiong's daughter Ruan Xiu. Because Liu Zhongrun came from Shujian Lake, one night she had witnessed from afar the anomaly on that island. With her Peace and No Trouble Token, she had heard some very mysterious rumors—that Ruan Xiu had once joined forces with a white-robed youth of unknown origin to pursue and kill an old Infant Soul sword cultivator of the Zhuying Dynasty. Simply astounding.
Furthermore, the unwritten rule among mountain cultivators was that one famous mountain could not accommodate two golden cores—distant allies, close enemies.
Longquan County's territory, though not small and rich in spiritual qi, could not support two thriving sect-level immortal establishments.
Zhu Lian, who had clearly never been to an immortal ferry before, was surprisingly familiar with the way. As he led Liu Zhongrun and Lu Baixiang away from Zhangyun Ferry, Liu Zhongrun saw a squad of elite cavalry—no more than twenty riders.
But it sent a chill through her instantly.
At the front were three riders. In the center was a young man, travel-worn but calm in expression, not wearing armor but with a Great Li standard-issue war saber at his waist.
Beside him was a handsome young man in black robes, wearing a long and short sword at his waist, crouching on his horse's back and yawning.
On the other side was a stocky, solid-built man.
Liu Zhongrun felt that except for the central commander, the other two were very dangerous.
As for those Great Li elite cavalry, Liu Zhongrun was a deposed princess who had ruled behind the curtain for many years, managing both household and state—so naturally, she was an expert. She could tell at a glance that these cavalry were fierce and battle-hardened.
The Great Li iron cavalry's prowess was not just in willingness to die on the battlefield; they also exuded an air of orderly discipline.
All were marks of National Master Cui Can's meticulous forging.
Zhu Lian looked up at the dark-skinned, stocky man, rubbing his hands together and laughing, "Isn't this our Martial Proclamation Gentleman, Lord Wei!"
The man addressed as Martial Proclamation Gentleman remained unmoved.
The young man in the center turned his head and asked with a smile, "Brother Wei, this elder is?"
The stocky man answered formally, "Named Zhu Lian, an old acquaintance from our hometown. A martial madman, currently at Far-Traveling realm, working as a steward in Longquan County."
The young man showed some surprise.
An Eighth Realm grandmaster?
He had never heard of one. He knew all the Far-Traveling realm martial artists from Great Li's territory, because they generally joined the military; almost none remained in the martial world.
As for Eighth Realm qi refiners, he didn't care to hear about them.
He came from a top-ranking military family in the capital, born on Breezy Child Street, where military officers were as numerous as clouds. He had never had much fondness for cultivators, but towards martial artists—whether on the battlefield or in the martial world—he felt a natural affinity.
His ancestors had carved out their fortunes and estates for the Great Li court and their family name with one fist and one sword.
He was the same. He, Liu Xunmei, and his good friend Guan Yiran despised nothing more than those parasites on Intent Delay Lane who rested on their ancestors' laurels. His name Liu Xunmei had been personally given by Old Master Guan himself.
Many of the idle rich from Intent Delay Lane and Breezy Child Street were beyond help. Under their fathers' arrangements, they skimmed oil in government offices, brokered connections for local powerful families, or recommended mountain immortals as offering masters for allied noble houses. They had endless banquets and drinking parties year-round. In the capital's official circles and banquets, they acted like lords, demanding female cultivators as maidservants and mountain immortals as attendants. But let them go to Breezy Child Street—each one would shrink his neck and speak softly.
Liu Xunmei dismounted, clasped his hands to Zhu Lian with a smile, "Liu Xunmei, greetings to Senior Zhu!"
Zhu Lian quickly returned the gesture, grinning, "General Liu is young and accomplished. When you light incense for your ancestors in the family shrine, you have full confidence."
Liu Xunmei was amused. He didn't find anything offensive about mentioning ancestral incense.
As the commander dismounted, Wei Xian also dismounted, and the rest of the cavalry followed suit.
Only the black-robed young sword cultivator with phoenix eyes remained crouched on his horse, nodding and clicking his tongue, "Impressive—Wind-Riding realm already. Wei Xian, your hometown really produces talent. It runs in our Mud Vase Alley family."
The sword cultivator was Cao Jun.
Cao Jun was a native of Southern Bodhisattva Continent, but his clan ancestor Cao Xi was originally from Mud Vase Alley in Lizhu Cave Heaven.
Lu Baixiang, who had been walking behind Zhu Lian and Liu Zhongrun, now stood shoulder to shoulder with Zhu Lian.
Wei Xian nodded to Lu Baixiang, who smiled and nodded back.
After leaving Cui Dongshan, Wei Xian had joined the Greatli military as a camp-following cultivator for the iron cavalry. Through real, bloody battles, he now served as a squad leader. Once the Ministry of War's paperwork came through—having already received the Martial Proclamation Gentleman title—Wei Xian would immediately be promoted to platoon leader. If he was willing to personally lead troops, he could be promoted on the spot to a sixth-rank military officer, commanding an old-character battalion of over a thousand soldiers.
Such squad leaders in Great Li were probably the most precious squad leaders in all of Haoran World. They could meet any military officer below the rank of substantive third-rank general without saluting. If they felt like it, a simple clasped fist would do; if not, they could pretend not to see.
Wei Xian had now obtained the sixth of the twelve military honorary ranks, the "Martial" prefix—Martial Proclamation Gentleman. The five ranks above that were generally only awarded to generals with outstanding battlefield merit. The Great Li court, founded on military power, had always had the first honorary rank as "Supreme Pillar of State," though that supremely honored title was not necessarily only given to warriors.
Cao Jun had always been Wei Xian's direct superior. Based on military merit, he managed all the camp-following cultivators for a Great Li ten-thousand-man iron cavalry division. Wei Xian was just a squad leader, but somewhat like Cao Jun's assistant. According to Cao Jun, that lazy fellow, thinking was best avoided, so he liked to dump troublesome matters like troop deployment on Wei Xian, whose background was unclear. Wei Xian was called a military strategist cultivator but seemed more like a pure martial artist. At first, there were some complaints—people thought he was some bigwig from the Ministry of War's hanger-on, shamelessly claiming military merit after major battles. But after a few fights, the gossip stopped. The logic was simple: the camp-following cultivators who fought alongside Wei Xian, who should have died, all survived.
The Great Li cavalry had prepared horses, and everyone rode toward the treasure's hiding place, not too far from Zhangyun Ferry—just over two hundred li. The Water Hall and Dragon Boat were buried at the bottom of a river, the passage extremely well hidden. Only Liu Zhongrun knew how to break the various mountain-water prohibitions. Otherwise, even if someone found the treasure vault, without breaking the water veins and mountain roots, they couldn't enter the secret realm. But doing so would trigger mechanisms and destroy both the Water Hall and Dragon Boat.
When Liu Zhongrun learned that this young cavalry commander, Liu Xunmei, was under thirty and already a substantive fourth-rank Great Li military officer, she was even more shocked.
On one hand, she was surprised by his meteoric rise in officialdom. Great Li military officers must have military merits to advance—this was iron law. For military families with ancestral connections, they might start higher, but there were limits. On the other hand, she was surprised by Fallen Mountain's connections in official circles. The one who appeared was General Liu Xunmei; the one who must have nodded approval was certainly a powerful, high-ranking general. Even if not already enfeoffed as Patrol Envoys Cao Ping or Su Gaoshan, it should be a prominent Great Li general second only to those two.
Actually, it wasn't just Liu Zhongrun who was puzzled. Even Liu Xunmei himself couldn't figure it out. His mission had been personally conveyed by a trusted confidant of Grand General Cao Ping. Hidden among the cavalry were two senior spies from Green Wave Pavilion serving as overseers. Judging by the signs, they weren't watching whether the three visitors adhered to rules, but whether he, Liu Xunmei, would create complications.
This was intriguing. Could the newly appointed Patrol Envoy Cao Ping have such far-reaching influence that he was conspiring with some big shot in Green Wave Pavilion to line their pockets? Then General Cao chose to stay behind the scenes, sending a trusted subordinate to handle it personally? If they were truly so brazen, shouldn't they have replaced him, Liu Xunmei, with some other loyal general under his command? If Liu Xunmei found this violated Greatli military law, he would have to report it to the court. Even if Cao Ping secretly killed him to silence him, how would they clean up the mess? The Liu family of Breezy Child Street was not something Cao Ping could easily handle. The key point was that this broke the rules. For a century, Great Li civil and military officials, regardless of their family traditions, methods, or temperaments, had been accustomed to following the rules in major matters.
If the court pursued the matter, would they execute that trusted subordinate to take the blame? That didn't seem like General Cao's style.
But if someone had such divine powers that even Cao Ping had to obey, making a Patrol Envoy—equivalent to a Supreme Pillar of State in the court—personally plan this, Liu Xunmei found it even harder to believe. Could it be the National Master's intention?
For a mountain-water treasure that someone was leading them to, why all this secrecy?
As the Great Li iron cavalry marched south, they had collected mountain treasures piled up like mountains. They had banned and destroyed thousands of mountain-water shrines and temples, all according to Great Li's established rules.
Did they really need this one?
Liu Xunmei was full of curiosity.
And he hoped to live long enough to know the answer.
Liu Xunmei rode side by side with Liu Zhongrun, discussing the route.
Wei Xian and Lu Baixiang followed closely behind, chatting about old times.
Lu Baixiang was probably the easiest to get along with among the four from the painting scroll. He could chat with anyone.
The other three barely spoke to each other.
Zhu Lian, somehow, had ended up at the tail end of the cavalry with Cao Jun, talking merrily, calling each other brothers, discussing everything. Of course, two grown men couldn't help but chat about women.
Whatever Cao Jun said, Zhu Lian's reply would hit the mark. If it didn't, then this old cook wasn't skilled at reading people.
He made Cao Jun's eyes light up, to the point where Cao Jun wanted to leave the military and become an offering master at Fallen Mountain.
---
Li Xisheng, with his bookboy Cui Ci, left Lion Peak and returned to a prefectural city in the Green Artemisia Kingdom. Green Artemisia was a remote small kingdom in Northern Julu Continent, not a vassal of any major power.
In the prefectural city, Li Xisheng bought a small house on a street called Immortal Cave Street. Across the street lived a family surnamed Chen, well-off but not a high-ranking family in the capital. There was a boy of Li Xisheng's age whose name happened to contain the character "bao"—Chen Baozhou. He was an idle literatus without imperial examination merit, skilled in qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Li Xisheng often traveled with him, though they never went far.
Li Xisheng had come from Bottle Gown Continent to Northern Julu Continent, traveling north until he stopped here. Through some connections, he had obtained a humble position in the provincial education office. Before going to Cool Breeze Sect, Li Xisheng had to walk past the "Heavenly Literary Fortune" memorial archway at the office entrance every day. The office compound had twelve courtyards—not small.
The education commissioner greatly favored Li Xisheng, thinking this young outsider was quite learned. Of course, the commissioner was famously an incorruptible scholar-official. How he had suddenly risen from a minor post to become a Vice Minister of Rites in the central government naturally involved some "extra learning." Once, drinking with Li Xisheng to drown his sorrows, Li Xisheng provided those "lessons," secretly left behind, and the commissioner secretly accepted.
The next day, Li Xisheng became a clerk in the education office.
Cui Ci initially felt thunderstruck. How could his illustrious teacher do such a thing? How could a scholar be so mercenary?
Li Xisheng didn't explain.
This time returning to the prefectural city, Li Xisheng's position in the education office was gone. They had found some excuse and removed his clerk status.
Li Xisheng didn't mind.
On the way, Cui Ci asked his teacher how long they would stay in Green Artemisia this time. Li Xisheng replied, "A long time—at least thirty or forty years."
Cui Ci was initially panicked, thinking it might be centuries. When he heard it was only thirty or forty years, he was greatly relieved.
After all, he and his teacher were no longer ordinary mortals.
As for Cui Ci himself, whenever he thought of his own origins, he had lingering sadness. But whenever he worried about it, the boy would stop worrying, because he had that sadness.
Today, Li Xisheng unrolled a painting scroll to watch "Flowers in a Mirror, Moon on Water"—a projection transmission.
Cui Ci knew his teacher's habits. He lit incense early. Li Xisheng didn't actually care for such affectations, but Cui Ci liked doing it, and he didn't stop him.
On the painting scroll was an old scholar discoursing on the Way. He was a worthy of the Yufu Academy. The first few times, Cui Ci listened attentively, but later found it extremely tedious. The old man's lectures were like an old woman's foot-binding cloth—long and repetitive. Each lecture was about one principle, then he went around and around, talking about all its subsidiary principles. Cui Ci found it terribly boring. Who wouldn't understand such principles after a few days of reading? Why did the old man have to explain so minutely?
No wonder later when his teacher took him to visit Yufu Academy, they learned this old gentleman was ridiculed as a "bookworm who picks out phrases." He was considered the academy's most unlearned worthy. Eventually, the Confucian students at the academy couldn't stand his teaching, so the academy assigned him this task—handling the academy's mirror-water projections for mountain cultivators. Not only did the academy know it was just a formality, but even the old gentleman himself probably knew no one would listen to his nonsense. Yet he had been doing it for thirty years. The old gentleman was happy to be idle. Sometimes he would bring some books, notes, or calligraphy copies he liked, pick a sentence, and ramble on as he pleased.
Cui Ci had heard a whole basket of old stories about the old gentleman on the bookshop street near Yufu Academy. It was said he had obtained his "worthy" title purely by luck, not by learning. At first, various clever people befriended him, exchanging poems and songs as fellow travelers. Academies from various states enthusiastically invited him to lecture and teach. Eventually, even the official practice of "warming cold stoves" lost interest. His calligraphy, fan inscriptions, couplets—at first could sell for a thousand taels of silver easily. Later, a few hundred taels, then less than a hundred. Now, not even ten taels would buy them. People wouldn't accept them even as gifts.
But Cui Ci noticed that his teacher never missed the old gentleman's lectures. Even during his time at Cool Breeze Sect teaching the nine nominal disciples of Sect Leader He, he still watched Yufu Academy's mirror-water projections.
On the scroll, the old gentleman sat upright in his thirty-year fixed position, cleared his throat, picked up a newly acquired book—a travelogue—quickly announced its title, and began: Today he would discuss why the line "In the village, a small stove is first lit; in the temple, peach and plum blossoms are falling" was wondrous, and why the words "village" and "temple" were superfluous flaws. The old gentleman's face was slightly red, his expression unnatural. He held the travelogue high with both hands, as if to make the title more visible.
Cui Ci said helplessly, "Teacher, is this old gentleman starving to death? Why is he promoting business for the bookshop?"
Li Xisheng smiled. "It's the first time. Never before. Probably an old friend's request he couldn't refuse."
Cui Ci leaned on the table and sighed. "When a worthy comes to this, it really is embarrassing."
Cui Ci then laughed. "But at least today the old gentleman isn't talking empty principles. That's good. Otherwise, I'd be drowsy after one incense stick."
Listening to the old gentleman discourse on poetry and lyrics, Li Xisheng asked, "Who says that knowledge must be useful to be good knowledge?"
Cui Ci thought he had misheard. "Teacher?"
Li Xisheng kept looking at the scroll, listening to the old man, and said to Cui Ci with a smile, "Cui Ci, let me ask you a small question: One tael and one catty—two measures—how much do they actually weigh?"
Cui Ci was even more confused. Was this a question?
Li Xisheng continued, "Who set the rules for these two measures? In whose hands were the scale and weight originally? Ten thousand years ago, ten thousand years from now, would there be even a slight deviation? If there were an error, however small, how would it affect the operation of all things under heaven?"
Cui Ci thought for a moment, then felt his head about to split.
Li Xisheng said slowly, "There are some extremely pure fields of knowledge in the world that seem very far from human affairs, but that doesn't mean they are useless. There must always be people who pursue seemingly useless knowledge. Let me tell you this: Can it earn you a copper coin? Or improve your cultivation by a hair?"
Cui Ci shook his head. "Not really."
Li Xisheng looked at the scroll where the aging academy scholar was, feeling somewhat sad. He withdrew his gaze and turned to look at this "inhuman" boy, assembled from pieces of broken porcelain, and said, "Refining spiritual qi for one's own use, stepping higher and higher, achieving immortality—that is cultivation and seeking the Way. We Confucians use moral essays and paper learning to nourish the mortal world—that is Confucian enlightenment. 'Spring wind enters the night, moistening things silently'—that is the ultimate state of learning."
Li Xisheng was silent for a moment, looking at the curling smoke above the incense burner, and said, "To gather—that is the unity of heaven and man, the attainment of immortality. To release—'Sages and worthies have always been solitary, leaving only their writings for a thousand years.' True Confucian disciples never seek only immortality."
The old gentleman was indeed old. As he spoke, he tired himself out. In the past, an hour's academy lecture would see him ramble on for half an hour more.
Today, after just half an hour, he had lost the energy and spirit to continue. The old gentleman looked sad, staring into the distance, and muttered to himself, "I know, no one is listening. No one is listening to me say these things."
The old man said softly, "Twenty years ago, I heard from the mountain master that occasionally, there would be a little increase in snowflake coin spiritual energy. Ten years ago, it became very rare. Every time I heard someone was willing to spend money on my pitiful learning, I would find someone to drink with..."
At this point, he forced a smile and grabbed the travelogue book, "That old fellow who printed this book to sell—in the blink of an eye, we've had few drinks together, and both grown old."
"These last few years, I haven't even been able to earn a single snowflake coin for the academy with this learning. My conscience can't bear it."
The old man looked desolate, put down the book, and suddenly laughed angrily, "Old bastard surnamed Qian, I know you're watching this, afraid I won't sell your book, right?! Put your damn crossed leg down! If you don't, at least leave some leftovers after eating and drinking. When I leave the academy, let me have a few sips!"
The old man stood up and made a deep bow. "This lecture is my last humiliation at the academy. It's better if no one listens, so you don't waste your money. Cultivation on the mountains is not easy. These thirty years of my learning are truly useless. Look at me—do I look like a scholar? A learned man? I don't think so myself."
The old gentleman was about to turn off the mirror-water projection. He held only an empty title of academy worthy; he was not a cultivator, unable to summon wind and rain with a wave of his hand.
Just then, in Green Artemisia Kingdom, Li Xisheng lightly tossed down a Grain Rain coin, stood up, bowed, and said, "Scholar Li Xisheng has benefited greatly. Hereby pays respects to the master."
The old gentleman froze on the spot, stunned for a long time. Tears welled in his eyes. He waved his hand. "Undeserved, undeserved."
Then the old man felt embarrassed, mistakenly thinking someone had thrown a Lesser Heat coin, and whispered, "Don't buy that travelogue. It's not worth it—the price is outrageous, not worth it at all! Even if you have spirit coins, you shouldn't waste them like this. The two matters of cultivating oneself and governing the family, while grand in theory, should start from small things..."
Habitually about to ramble on about his grand principles, the old gentleman suddenly shut his mouth, looked desolate, and laughed at himself, "Enough, enough."
Suddenly, another person tossed down a Grain Rain coin and declared loudly, "Liu Jinglong, having listened to the master's instruction for thirty years, here pays respects. Emerging from seclusion this time, I'm glad I didn't miss the master's final lecture!"
Not only was the old gentleman thunderstruck, even Cui Ci couldn't help asking, "Teacher, is that the young sword immortal Liu Jinglong of Taiwei Sword Sect?"
Li Xisheng smiled and nodded.
The old gentleman wept with joy. Finally, he straightened his robes, straightened his back, and laughed, "If you ever have the chance, come drink with me! I won't be at the academy anymore, but not far—easy to find. Just ask for the 'Foot-Binding Master,' and you'll find me. Then I'll scold you for not revealing your identity sooner, so I could have basked in your glory at the academy."
Suddenly, a third person—without tossing any money—had his voice echo, "This lecture was the worst. But you're quite skilled at selling books. Why not open a bookshop yourself? I, Zhou Mi, would be willing to buy a few."
The old gentleman lowered his voice and asked tentatively, "Mountain Lord Zhou?"
The man laughed, "Or who else? In Northern Julu Continent, who can say the three words 'I, Zhou Mi,' with such confidence?"
The old gentleman quickly scurried away to close an open book of the sages, so the three wouldn't see his embarrassment.
An old scholar of advanced age still needed to save face.
---
Just as Mountain Lord Wei Bo was leaving Piyun Mountain.
A large caravan was moving in a grand procession, the entire family relocating from Locust Yellow Town in Longquan County.
It wasn't that they couldn't afford to take the immortal ferry at Oxhorn Mountain—someone hadn't given permission. This greatly disappointed the woman in charge of finances, who had never ridden an immortal ferry in her life.
There was nothing she could do. Her son didn't agree, and she as mother had no choice but to go along.
After the old woman died, the Ma family of Apricot Flower Lane—the old woman's grandson soon left town, leaving the ancestral house empty. The old woman's son and daughter-in-law had long since moved out of the Apricot Flower Lane ancestral home. The Ma family had money, but didn't show it, just like Lin Shouyi's father, who served in the Kiln Supervision Office—he had power but didn't flaunt it, giving the impression of just a lowly clerk. Both families were in similar circumstances.
The Ma couple had moved out of Apricot Flower Lane back then but hadn't bought property on Fortune Street or Peach Leaf Lane. Now they had quietly sold their ancestral dragon kiln to the Qingfeng City Xu clan at an exorbitant price.
Then, at their son's arrangement, the whole family was relocating to the territory of True Martial Mountain, one of the martial ancestor temples. Henceforth, generations would take root there. The woman was reluctant, and her husband wasn't enthusiastic either. They would have preferred to settle in the Great Li capital. But since their son had spoken, they as parents could only obey. After all, their son was no longer the silly boy of Apricot Flower Lane. He was Ma Kuxuan, the most outstanding cultivation genius in Bottle Gown Continent today. He had even killed two Golden Core sword cultivators from the Zhuying Dynasty, famous for their combat prowess.
The woman lifted the carriage curtain and saw a rider outside—a young woman so beautiful she seemed unreal, now her son's maidservant. Her son had given her the name "Shudian" (Counting the Classics).
The woman found it amusing. Only this matter made her feel her son was still that silly boy.
Years ago, there was the rumor about Song Jixin from Mud Vase Alley—that he was the illegitimate son of the supervisor official—who had a maidservant called Zhigui.
According to what the mother-in-law had said while alive, her son had always liked that Zhigui.
The woman riding beside the carriage sensed the woman's gaze. At first, she planned to ignore it.
But the young man at the head of the procession turned and looked back, his gaze cold.
She was terrified. She immediately turned to the carriage curtain and asked softly, "Madam, do you need to stop and rest?"
The woman smiled and shook her head, slowly lowering the curtain.
The young woman named Shudian glanced at the young man's back at the front of the procession. Her heart was bitter, but she dared not show it.
Back then, she had entered Lizhu Cave Heaven with the Qingfeng City Xu mother and son, and the Mountain-Moving Ape of Zhengyang Mountain. All had come for opportunities. In the end, she had suffered the worst fate—not a single blessing obtained, but a disaster of epic proportions, a true family-destroying calamity. Her grandfather, the master of the Sea Tide Iron Cavalry, after his country was destroyed by the unstoppable Great Li army, had gone with the flow, relinquished military power, but managed to keep an official post, then retired to his hometown. But this young man appeared.
Returning home in glory, the government-assigned escort, along with her grandfather's personal guards—over a hundred people—all died, bodies everywhere.
She and the old man knelt together on the ground.
Ma Kuxuan stood between the two kneeling figures, pressing a hand on each head, saying that two heads couldn't repay the debt. Even if the entire Sea Tide Iron Cavalry died, it wouldn't be enough.
Ma Kuxuan asked the old man what should be done.
The old man began kowtowing, begging Ma Kuxuan to spare his granddaughter and take only his life.
A lifetime of military career, countless battle merits—who would have thought it would end like this? The woman knelt there woodenly.
Ma Kuxuan pressed down with his palm, leaving a hideously flattened corpse on the ground.
In the end, Ma Kuxuan didn't kill her. He kept her by his side, bestowed the name "Shudian" without a surname.
Dazed and lost, Shudian eventually followed Ma Kuxuan to Longquan County.
On the way, the young man killed at will many times. After returning to his hometown, his first destination was not Apricot Flower Lane, nor even his parents' home. He walked along the bank of the Dragon Beard River, to the waterfall mouth where the Dragon Beard River met the Iron Talisman River. There, Shudian saw a sword-bearing deity appear—a first-rank water god of Great Li, named Yang Hua.
Ma Kuxuan squatted at the river's boundary, lightly tossing pebbles into the water, and said to the high-ranking Great Li deity, "I know you're the Empress Dowager's maidservant. I'm just the grandson of your subordinate river god. By rights, I should show you some respect. But I heard you weren't very polite to my grandmother. So you'd better be careful. In this world, whether cultivators, deities, or ghosts, debts must be repaid. When I next return here to visit my grandmother, if you still haven't cleared the debt and dare to lord it over this Dragon Beard River, I'll have your golden body imprisoned on True Martial Mountain, hammered day after day. As much incense essence is shattered, so much will I feed you. I'll make you repay for a thousand years. Even if I, Ma Kuxuan, die, as long as True Martial Mountain stands, you'll suffer a thousand years of torment. Not a single day less, or I'll consider myself the loser."
Water God Yang Hua scoffed.
Ma Kuxuan added, "Since you've become a great river's rightful god, you're probably not afraid of suffering. But you were born a woman; even if humanity is gone, some nature is hard to erase. Every few years, I'll catch some illicit shrine deities or mountain-lake spirits and send them to True Martial Mountain, teaching them a lost divine technique so they can turn misfortune into blessing. Then you'll know what it means to pay with your body."
Ma Kuxuan concluded, "I'm telling you this because I hope you won't be like some people, stupid enough to think small matters are just small matters. Otherwise, I, Ma Kuxuan, break through realms too quickly, and you'll also repay debts very quickly."
The Iron Talisman River Water God said nothing, just smiled mockingly.
Ma Kuxuan cocked his head. "Don't believe me, right?"
Ma Kuxuan smiled. "Then wait. I've changed my mind now. Soon, one day, I'll have the Empress Dowager personally issue an imperial decree, delivered to your hands, ordering you to go to True Martial Mountain's jurisdiction to serve as a great river water god. Then I'll visit as a guest. I hope the Water God Goddess will receive me warmly, and I'll return the courtesy by inviting you to the mountain as my guest."
Yang Hua's expression turned grave.
Ma Kuxuan shook his head. "Sorry, too late."
Yang Hua narrowed her eyes.
A True Martial Mountain protector appeared behind Ma Kuxuan, smiling slightly. "Water God Goddess, killing people without authorization is against the rules."
Yang Hua sneered. "Has Ma Kuxuan become the mountain lord of True Martial Mountain already?"
The military strategist cultivator shook his head and smiled. "Of course not. It's just that Ma Kuxuan's words seem to carry more weight than our mountain lord. I've been dissatisfied with that for a long time, but there's nothing I can do."
Yang Hua noticed the cultivator secretly winking at her.
She sighed and said to Ma Kuxuan, "Ma Lanhua will soon have her own river god temple."
Dragon Beard River goddess Ma Lanhua, after being promoted from river mother to river god, had never been able to build a temple.
If the Iron Talisman River Water God gave her word, building an incense temple would be perfectly reasonable. Neither the local Longzhou government nor the Great Li Ministry of Rites would obstruct.
Ma Kuxuan stood up, dusted off his hands, and said, "Good. Then I, Ma Kuxuan, will also go back on my word once. From now on, Water God Goddess, you are my honored guest."
After that, the tall Ma Kuxuan, in black robes with a white jade belt, looked like a dandy from a powerful family out sightseeing. He walked along the Dragon Beard River. When he no longer concealed his aura but deliberately released it, after going a short distance, water plants emerged in the river, swaying in the water as if spying on the shore.
As if afraid to acknowledge Ma Kuxuan, the woman whose appearance had lost its age poked her head out of the river, looking at the young man on the bank. River deities couldn't cry, but the woman subconsciously wiped her face.
That was the first time the maidservant "Shudian" saw the young demon Ma Kuxuan smile brilliantly. She also discovered that this iron-hearted wretch could shed tears.
That day, Ma Kuxuan sat by the riverside, shoulder to shoulder with her. The woman gently grasped Ma Kuxuan's hand, murmuring continuously.
Ma Kuxuan just sat there, not speaking for a long time. His face was somewhat unfamiliar, but these were the most familiar nagging words of his life.
Grandma had talked about many household matters again, cursed many people, but in the end told him not to worry about anything.
She finally told her grandson to wait a moment. She went to her humble underwater residence and brought back all her accumulated possessions, neatly arranged beside them. She explained each item's origin, then told Ma Kuxuan to take them all, saying they were the bride-price she had saved for her grandson. She just didn't know if he had found a girl he liked over the years. As for that Zhigui, she was a born seductress, definitely not a woman worth marrying into the family. Anyone except her could be her grandson's wife—she would accept.
Ma Kuxuan said it would be Zhigui.
The woman habitually reached out with her finger, gently tapped her grandson's forehead, and scolded that he was bewitched, didn't know what was good for him, a fool with no father to teach him or mother to discipline him, destined to suffer.
Finally, as she spoke, she began to cry, saying that becoming this river mother had caused her so much pain. If not for having this grandson, with no one to look after her, she really wouldn't have made it.
Ma Kuxuan took a deep breath and wiped his face.
The woman made Ma Kuxuan promise her one thing. Ma Kuxuan said there was no need to worry—if anyone traced the clues to the Ma family of Apricot Flower Lane, if that Chen Ping'an dared to kill one person, he would kill two of Chen Ping'an's most cherished people, never fewer. The woman just shook her head, insisting Ma Kuxuan promise her, tearfully saying, "They are your parents. How can you calculate like that?"
Ma Kuxuan remained silent.
Finally, the woman used her trump card: if he didn't agree, she would consider herself without a grandson.
Ma Kuxuan had to agree for now. Deep down, he had his own plans. So after parting, Ma Kuxuan still didn't go to his parents, but went to the Yang Family Shop first. Learning that his grandmother had to stay on the Dragon Beard River, with no room for negotiation, Ma Kuxuan had to change his mind, letting his parents sell the ancestral dragon kiln at a high price and move the whole family away from Longquan County. Thus came this slow journey of leaving home.
All along the way, Shudian noticed a strange thing.
For some reason, Ma Kuxuan's relationship with his parents seemed very ordinary. It wasn't the estrangement of immortals and mortals, but as if there had never been much affection since childhood. After he went to the mountains to cultivate, the distance grew even greater. As for the couple, they seemed immersed in enormous joy. Their son, glorifying the ancestors, barely gave them a smile, mostly remaining silent. The couple didn't find anything wrong—as if their son being so exalted was only natural.
The man dressed like an ordinary wealthy gentleman, exuding the shrewdness of a rich merchant. The woman had a pair of peach-blossom eyes, not particularly striking, but with a chilling hint in her gaze, even when smiling.
Along the way, some unlucky people and spirits who didn't know better died.
Ma Kuxuan seemed deliberately to choose difficult mountain and river routes with trails, killing bandits and monsters to vent his frustration.
During this time, her sect's cultivators came to rescue her a second time.
The first time, her patriarch had come in person to call Ma Kuxuan to account. Ma Kuxuan had killed over a dozen of them with his own hands, right before her eyes, like crushing ants.
Before acting, Ma Kuxuan made her choose a second time: her own life, or the death of her rescuers.
If she answered wrong, she would die.
Shudian answered correctly. So those people died.
This time, a fellow disciple who had hoped to become her dao partner, along with his mountain friends, came to rescue her from her living hell.
Ma Kuxuan made her choose again: die together as star-crossed lovers, or live on alone.
Shudian chose to live.
So that fellow disciple she had thought she deeply loved, along with his friends, all died, without suspense.
In the pouring rain, Shudian collapsed on the muddy ground, loudly demanding why Ma Kuxuan hadn't let her die the first time she begged, but had granted her wish the second and third times.
Ma Kuxuan, his long robe untouched by any raindrop, smiled at her. "I wanted you to live a fate worse than death. What's so hard to understand? Your incomprehension is why a fairy now sits in the mud, wailing pitifully. When you understand, you'll live relaxed and at ease. Everything from the past won't be worth mentioning."
Ma Kuxuan grabbed her by the head and threw her onto the horse's back. "When you're a maidservant, if you show disrespect again, I'll cut out your tongue. This is your only warning."
The caravan continued through the rain.
Late spring, warm sunlight.
Ma Kuxuan sat at the head of the procession on horseback, swaying gently, mentally calculating which Upper Fifth Realm cultivators in Bottle Gourd Continent were sitting on the toilet without shitting—those who held positions but did nothing.
The Great Li National Master, Embroidery Tiger Cui Can? Not counted. This old gentleman was indeed someone who accomplished great things.
Hiding in the Great Li capital for years, that Mohist branch leader had outlasted the Yin-Yang School Lu clan cultivator. That was skill.
The twelve mountain-sized ferries—Ma Kuxuan had seen them himself. Looking up, they blotted out the sun. For a hundred miles around, the human world beneath the ferry was plunged into deep night. This was the fundamental reason the Great Li iron cavalry could march south so quickly. Building each enormous ferry was like cutting a huge chunk of flesh from the Great Li court and the Song imperial clan. Not only that, but the Song clan of Great Li still owed a huge debt to the Mohist central lineage in the Central Plains, the Merchant clan, and other major powers. The Great Li iron cavalry's ruthless confiscation of property during their southward march was secret debt repayment. When the debt would be cleared was unclear.
That Mohist wandering knight named Xu Ruo should not be underestimated.
The Heavenly Lord Xie Shi of Northern Julu Continent had already set off to return. Staying in Bottle Gourd Continent was pointless. Besides, it was rumored this Heavenly Lord had trouble in his own backyard. If he didn't return to Northern Julu Continent soon, it would be embarrassing.
The rest seemed like dispensable existences. If they died, spiritual qi returned to heaven and earth. If they lived, they were just mountain thieves who knew some immortal arts, misers who took in but never gave out.
Heavenly Lord Qi Zhen of Divine Mandate Sect—even he couldn't keep He Xiaoliang, a disciple with such deep fortune. Breaking her limbs and keeping her in the sect as a treasure bowl would have been better, wouldn't it?
True Mirror Sect, moved from Jade Token Sect, had swallowed Shujian Lake in one fell swoop and was at its peak. However, Jiang Shangzhen knew how to behave. As a sect leader, he was willing to keep his tail between his legs. Whenever sect disciples had conflicts with outsiders, regardless of cause, it was always their own fault, punished by ancestral hall discipline. Several times, they had even proactively sent heads to offending sects to avoid trouble and hidden dangers.
Palace Willow Island wild cultivator Liu Laocheng was Jade Purity Realm. River-Cutting True Lord Liu Zhimao had also broken through, becoming the second Upper Fifth Realm wild cultivator. Of course, now they were all registered immortals of True Mirror Sect.
That old patriarch of Snow Wind Temple, who looked like a child, hadn't descended the mountain in centuries. He had appeared once during the battle between Zhengyang Mountain and Wind Thunder Garden.
That female cultivator of True Martial Mountain was even more reclusive than the old ancestor of Snow Wind Temple, another martial ancestor temple of Bottle Gourd Continent. But her many disciples had been very active in the Great Li border troops.
The clan head of Cloud Forest Jiang, always hidden behind multiple layers of curtains.
The first Upper Fifth Realm deity in Bottle Gourd Continent's history, Wei Bo of Piyun Mountain.
That Upper Fifth Realm sword cultivator of the Zhuying Dynasty who had yet to appear—either dead in seclusion or still enduring.
As for that old storyteller of the Great Sui Dynasty, now a prisoner on Piyun Mountain, protecting a Gao clan prince—Ma Kuxuan really didn't look down on this old fellow. Aside from his Jade Purity Realm, what else did he have?
Finally, Ma Kuxuan thought of that mud-foot from Mud Vase Alley.
Ma Kuxuan opened his eyes on horseback, interlaced his fingers, and pressed down lightly. He found it amusing. After leaving town, all his peers he met were trash. Only this fellow from his hometown counted as a real opponent worth his interest.
He wondered if he would need to go all out in their next fight.
Probably not.
That would be boring.
Ma Kuxuan closed his eyes again and began to think of the favored sons of heaven from the Central Plains Divine Continent.
As for the maidservant behind him, one day she would sadly discover that, without realizing it, all thoughts of revenge had vanished. Instead, one day she would sincerely feel that being by Ma Kuxuan's side was the only safe place in the world.
At that moment, it would be her time to die.
Ma Kuxuan would also keep part of her soul and memories, using certain lost secret arts that even True Martial Mountain's patriarch couldn't master, tracing clues to find her reincarnation. When the time came, he would return her memories, trapping her in endless reincarnation, life after life, each time a fate worse than death.
That Chen Ping'an—if he dared to seek revenge, he would only end up worse than her.
But before Chen Ping'an came for revenge, he, Ma Kuxuan, wouldn't do much. After all, back then, the Ma family was in the wrong first.
No matter how ruthless he was, he wouldn't kill innocent people indiscriminately. But there were many in the world who courted death. If they unluckily crossed him, he would just send them on their way.
---
On Fallen Mountain, early in the morning, Pei Qian had prepared all her belongings, large and small. She was about to go on a long journey!
Because yesterday, that old man had told her, "Pack your little bamboo basket and bring your walking staff. We're going to your hometown for a study tour together. Don't worry—just treat it as accompanying this old man on a leisure trip. Fist practice can wait."
At that time, Pei Qian had just shouted, "Old Cui, did you not eat enough today?" and was about to push open the bamboo door to the second floor, determined to get beaten again.
After all, whether she said a few heroic words or not, she would get beaten anyway. Might as well get some small advantage, as if she had earned a few copper coins.
But the old man in blue robes, barefoot, just said that.
Pei Qian felt a bit uncomfortable, then replied, "The old cook is gone, but Nuan Shu is still on the mountain to cook for us. Besides, I didn't snatch your bowl at the table, did I?"
Cui Cheng barely resisted the urge to give this girl another solid round of "fist feeding."
Recently, Cui Cheng had been appearing frequently and eating at the table.
Cui Cheng only said one word: "Go downstairs and cool off."
But Pei Qian's eyes darted around. She dawdled for a long time, then swaggered out of the bamboo building, stood in the corridor, hands on hips, and shouted, "Zhou Mili!"
The black-clad little girl sitting at the bottom of the stairs immediately ran to the open space and asked, "How come I didn't hear any screaming today?"
Pei Qian raised an eyebrow, crossed her arms, and sneered, "What do you think? Once I entered the second floor, if I didn't win, do you think I could come out?"
Zhou Mili wrinkled her face, thinking hard, and finally asked, "Did we put laxative in that bowl of rice? How come I didn't know beforehand? This kind of thing shouldn't be given to Nuan Shu—I'm the Right Protector of Fallen Mountain, I should do it..."
Pei Qian jumped down from the second floor, landed beside Zhou Mili, moved like lightning, pressed down on this foolish little idiot's head, twisted her wrist, and Zhou Mili began to spin in place.
Eventually, Zhou Mili found it fun and started running in circles.
Pei Qian extended two fingers together and lightly shouted, "Freeze!"
Zhou Mili immediately stopped, still wide-eyed, not moving a muscle.
Pei Qian held her two fingers upright in front of her chest, made a gesture of sinking energy to the dantian with her other hand, and nodded. "This immobilization spell of mine is truly impressive. Even the great water monster of Yahu Lake can't escape."
Zhou Mili still dared not move, her eyes shining.
Pei Qian was quite satisfied. She flicked her fingers toward Zhou Mili. "Move!"
Zhou Mili quickly clapped, overjoyed. "Impressive, impressive! I really couldn't move just now."
That day, Pei Qian took Zhou Mili to play with Chen Ruchu again. The three girls huddled together, chattering away like countless peach blossoms blooming on the mountain, with orioles on the flowers.
A whole day slipped by like that.
This morning, not only Chen Ruchu and Zhou Mili had arrived, but also Zheng Dafeng and Chen Lingjun.
Zheng Dafeng was expressionless.
He couldn't help it—he really couldn't stop this.
Chen Lingjun glanced at the old man Cui Cheng, then looked away and went to the cliff edge to stare blankly.
Cui Cheng said to Zheng Dafeng, "Tell Zhu Lian that giving up that half of martial fortune was a good move."
Zheng Dafeng, holding a parasol of parasol tree leaves, grinned mischievously. "If the old cook doesn't want it, he could give it to me."
Cui Cheng kicked at him—not fast—and Zheng Dafeng stumbled but easily dodged.
Pei Qian was showing off her long-unused paired sword and knife at her waist, both made of bamboo.
She also carried her walking staff and wore her little bamboo basket.
Today, the old man was also dressed in Confucian robes.
Pei Qian had seen the old man in this attire before, but today it felt particularly unfamiliar.
Cui Cheng smiled. "You don't know this, but I was also a scholar in my youth. I had quite a bit of learning—one of the notable erudite scholars and literary masters of Bottle Gourd Continent."
Pei Qian said, "Did you count that yourself?"
Cui Cheng smiled. "Oh?"
Pei Qian immediately said loudly, "It's definitely not! It must be universally acknowledged both on and off the mountains of Bottle Gourd Continent."
Zheng Dafeng sighed inwardly. "The location is set. According to your wishes, Senior, starting from the most desolate deep mountain on the western border of Nanyuan Kingdom."
Cui Cheng nodded, turned to Pei Qian. "Ready?"
Pei Qian nodded vigorously, clutching her walking staff tightly. "Somewhat ready!"
In the end, one old and one young, as if riding clouds and mist, landed on a remote mountain peak.
Pei Qian's face was slightly pale.
Cui Cheng said softly with a smile, "After this journey, you won't be so afraid. Trust this old man."
Pei Qian stabbed her walking staff heavily into the ground and snorted, "Afraid my ass!"
Cui Cheng gazed into the distance. "Then please put away the talismans in your sleeve."
Pei Qian's sleeve flickered slightly as if nothing had happened.
The two walked down the mountain together.
At first, Pei Qian was somewhat uneasy. But having walked mountain paths all her life, as she walked, she felt there really was nothing to fear—at least for now.
They were still far from the capital of Nanyuan Kingdom. The place underfoot was just the barbarian lands of the old Lotus Flower Blessed Land, not even part of the real Nanyuan Kingdom.
That evening, Pei Qian skillfully cooked a small pot of fish soup and rice.
At the foot of the mountain was a river. Pei Qian had cut a bamboo pole herself, tied on fishing line and hook, cast it into the water, and squatted quietly by the river. When a fish bit firmly, she jerked it up and landed it on the bank.
Looking at that thick fishing rod, Cui Cheng's head ached. Could this be called fishing? It was more like yanking fish out of the water!
But when he held a big bowl of fish soup, sitting cross-legged, the old man didn't complain. It was a bit salty. The charcoal-black girl asked him how it tasted. The old man swallowed his conscience and said it was okay.
Pei Qian ladled fish soup over rice and ate with relish. With fish soup, rice went down fast!
Pei Qian squatted on the ground, her shoulders swaying, the little girl overjoyed.
The old man couldn't be bothered to lecture about proper sitting and eating postures.
He wasn't Chen Ping'an.
If Chen Ping'an ever dared to nag about such trivial matters in the future, the old man felt he might just scold him a few times. What was so great about being a master, bossing people around? Pei Qian's nature was actually still very young...
But thinking of these things, the old man smiled bitterly and said softly to Pei Qian, "Eat slowly. No one's fighting you for it."
Pei Qian said "Oh" and began to chew carefully.
After cleaning up the bowls, chopsticks, and the soup pot, Pei Qian took out her water bottle, washed her hands, then took out her books, writing brush, ink, and paper from the little bamboo basket, where all items were neatly categorized and arranged. She used the basket as a desk and began diligently copying texts.
Cui Cheng sat nearby, smiling. "Here, you don't have to copy. If your master blames you later, say I allowed it."
Pei Qian finished copying one complete sentence meticulously, then turned and glared. "Nonsense!"
Cui Cheng waved his hand.
After finishing copying, it was getting dark. Pei Qian carefully put away all her things.
Seeing in the dark was as easy as drinking water for her now.
Seeing old Cui Cheng dozing, Pei Qian took her walking staff and tiptoed to a distant spot on the mountaintop to practice the Mad Demon Sword Technique.
Cui Cheng smiled and asked, "Since it's sword technique, why don't you use the bamboo sword at your waist?"
Pei Qian stopped the practice and answered loudly, "I'm imitating Master, of course. Master doesn't draw his sword easily. You wouldn't understand. Of course, I don't really understand either. Just copy him and that's fine."
Cui Cheng asked, "What if your master is wrong?"
Pei Qian resumed the Mad Demon Sword Technique, the wind howling. Her words came intermittently to an ordinary martial artist's ears, but Cui Cheng heard clearly: "Master—how could he teach his disciple wrong? He's never wrong. Never in this life. Even if he's wrong, I think he's right. None of you have any say."
Cui Cheng smiled and said no more, closing his eyes to rest.
Around midnight, Cui Cheng woke Pei Qian. She rubbed her eyes and didn't complain.
Traveling day and night, crossing mountains and rivers—what was so special about that?
Going down the mountain, Pei Qian had that absurd fishing rod strapped to her back.
Cui Cheng asked, "Tired?"
As if waiting for this question, Pei Qian said pitifully, "Tired."
Cui Cheng said, "Don't expect me to carry that rod for you. I can't afford to lose face."
Pei Qian sighed, asked him to wait a moment, removed the fishing line and hook, put them away in a small bundle in the bamboo basket, re-shouldered the basket, grabbed the rod, and lightly shouted, "Go you!"
The rod embedded itself straight into a distant tree.
For the next few days, morning and evening meals, since they were traveling along the big river, it was still fish soup with rice.
Cui Cheng sipped the fish soup and asked, "If we keep following this river, are we eating this every day?"
Pei Qian rolled her eyes. "Be grateful you have anything to eat. What more do you want?"
Pei Qian snorted. "You don't know—back when I traveled the martial world with Master, it was just me and him, two people, no old cook or anyone. That was real hardship. Master was testing me then, hadn't formally accepted me as his first disciple yet. Master was amazing at fishing, but I wasn't. Once I was so hungry, and Master hadn't called me over to eat. Guess what I did?"
Cui Cheng smiled. "Begged Chen Ping'an for a mouthful of rice?"
Pei Qian snorted. "Bullshit! I went into a murky river current, not too deep—up to my waist. Splash! I dove straight in, then reached out into the crevices between rocks, stirred around, and caught a big fish! A catfish as long as my arm, really fierce—once it bit, it wouldn't let go. I quickly surfaced, ran ashore, swung my arm, and slammed it hard on the ground a few times before it let go!"
Pei Qian looked smug. "Master was dumbfounded. He gave me a thumbs up and praised me endlessly!"
Cui Cheng smiled. "Lies."
Pei Qian immediately slumped. "Fine, Master didn't give me a thumbs up or say anything nice. He just glanced at me."
In truth, that time, the charcoal-black girl had very stubbornly hidden her injured arm behind her back, glaring fiercely at Chen Ping'an.
Now, Pei Qian quickly declared to the old man, "That big catfish—I really did catch it..."
Worried Cui Cheng wouldn't believe her, she rolled up her sleeve, then sighed in frustration. "Forgot, the scar's long gone."
Pei Qian quickly grinned. "Good thing Master grabbed a handful of medicinal herbs, threw them in front of me, mashed them up, and applied them to my arm. It didn't hurt at all. Strange, isn't it? Magical, right? You wouldn't understand!"
Cui Cheng smiled and nodded.
After that.
Pei Qian still copied texts every day and practiced the Mad Demon Sword Technique regularly.
Cui Cheng just led Pei Qian on a slow journey.
One day, watching Pei Qian skip stones on the water, the old man casually asked, "Pei girl, what's the saddest thing you've ever heard in your life?"
Pei Qian pretended not to hear.
The old man asked again.
Pei Qian crouched by the water, speaking slowly. "Twice. Once was at that border inn in Daquan Kingdom, Parasol Leaf Continent. Master didn't say anything, but just looking at me made me sad."
"Later, there was a sentence from that big white goose. He asked me, 'Do you only practice fists when your master dies?' That was sad too. Kept me awake."
Cui Cheng said nothing more.
Soon, Pei Qian seemed carefree again, having picked two nameless grass stems by the riverbank, playing the "grass fight" game that country children loved.
Mountains and rivers stretched far. Gradually they reached a place with human habitation.
Cui Cheng still led Pei Qian through scenic landscapes. At a cliff, the old man clasped his hands behind his back and smiled. "What a sight: 'Iron flowers embroider the rock face, killing intent hushes the frogs and toads.'"
Pei Qian said "Mhm" and nodded slightly, as if she understood perfectly.
Cui Cheng turned and smiled. "Used to walking with both feet on the ground, crossing mountains and rivers? Next, how about we do a real mountain-climbing, ridge-crossing? Dare you?"
Pei Qian slapped a talisman on her forehead and said boldly, "For a martial arts person, there's only 'can't,' not 'dare not'!"
Cui Cheng didn't fly through the air. Instead, he climbed the cliff wall, with Pei Qian following suit.
At the mountain summit, the nearest green mountain was at least ten miles away.
Cui Cheng smiled. "Hold tight to your walking staff and bamboo basket."
Before Pei Qian could ask, the old man grabbed her shoulder and, laughing, shouted "Go you!"
Flying through the clouds like a mountain immortal, Pei Qian's hands and feet were ice-cold at first. But she soon adapted. "Wow!" She did a dog-paddle, looking down at rivers and mountains winding beneath her.
Nothing to be afraid of.
Just before crashing into the green mountain ahead, Pei Qian adjusted her breathing lightly, stretched her body in the air, changed posture, slightly altered her trajectory, and landed with both feet on a towering tree. Her knees bent instantly, her whole body curled up. The tree snapped under her weight. When the broken tree hit the ground, Pei Qian lightly tapped her toes and landed gracefully. Cui Cheng was already beside her. "Race to the summit."
Pei Qian sprinted, like a wisp of green smoke. Cui Cheng kept exactly five to six zhang ahead of her, visible but uncatchable.
On the mountain paths afterward, the old and young went in a straight line. When there was no path ahead, Cui Cheng would throw Pei Qian.
Eventually, Pei Qian could even perform the Mad Demon Sword Technique in the clouds.
One night when the moon was bright and stars sparse, they landed at the foot of a famous western mountain of Nanyuan Kingdom.
Pei Qian blinked, eager. "Throw me up there?"
Cui Cheng smiled. "Time to walk. Scholars should revere mountains."
Pei Qian nodded. "Makes sense."
In Nanyuan Kingdom's history, such mountains naturally had no true divine phenomena. Unofficial histories and folklore might have many legends.
But now, it was hard to say.
Cui Cheng led Pei Qian up the mountain along the stone steps. Pei Qian bounced her little bamboo basket, tapping the steps with her walking staff. "Looks like our Fallen Mountain steps."
Cui Cheng said, "Scenery everywhere, if you don't look closely, all seems similar."
Pei Qian nodded, silently memorizing this line to show off later and fool little Zhou Mili.
Cui Cheng climbed slowly, looking around, reciting a poem: "A thousand mountains rise like scales, ten thousand ravines full of pine waves—strange sights startle a hundred-year-old man."
Pei Qian nodded. "Good line!"
Cui Cheng smiled. "You understand?"
Pei Qian grinned. "I'm speaking for Master."
Cui Cheng laughed heartily.
At the summit, there was a Taoist temple with its gate tightly shut. Cui Cheng didn't knock. He just led Pei Qian around, looking at some inscriptions and cliff carvings. Gazing into the distance, he sighed, "An ancient worthy said, 'Man's life lies in primordial qi; a nation's life lies in the people's hearts.' Truly said, truly said..."
Pei Qian turned to look at the old man, remembering he had said he was a scholar.
They rarely walked down the mountain. As they descended, they encountered village smoke, market towns, post roads, and official highways.
Along the way, they saw many people—all walks of life, mostly passing by without incident.
At a roadside tea stall, Pei Qian paid for two large bowls of herbal tea.
Pei Qian had woven herself a bamboo hat.
With a sword and knife at her waist, a little bamboo basket on her back, a bamboo hat on her head, and a walking staff leaning against the table, she looked quite comical.
At the next table, a group of martial heroes dismounted and sat down. Pei Qian grew nervous.