Chapter 560: Morning Bells and Evening Drums, But No Cooking Smoke
On Luopo Mountain, the young mountain master had traveled far, and the old man on the second floor had also gone far, so the Bamboo Tower was now empty.
Chen Lingjun had stopped wandering around outside recently, and would occasionally come to sit at the stone table by the cliff.
He knew he was the least likable presence on Luopo Mountain—not as diligent and clever as that little fire python from the Cao family's Zhilan Tower, and not even as endearingly silly as the little fellow Zhou Mili. Cen Yuanji was brought up by Zhu Lian; she had good aptitude and could endure hardship in practicing boxing, living a busy and fulfilling life. Shi Rou managed a shop in the town, earning little money, but at least she was helping Luopo Mountain make money, and she had a good relationship with Pei Qian. Pei Qian would go see Shi Rou whenever she had free time, claiming to worry about Shi Rou embezzling, but actually just afraid that Shi Rou felt neglected by Luopo Mountain.
Only he, Chen Lingjun, cared too much about face and suffered for it. Nothing he did or said was likable.
That River God brother from the Yu River had become increasingly polite to him after the three Night Spirit Traveling Banquets, but this politeness made Chen Lingjun feel even more lost. Some flattering words and attentions were so ingratiating that Chen Lingjun felt uncomfortable.
He preferred the old days at the Water Mansion, drinking big bowls of wine and eating big pieces of meat, speaking vulgarly and cursing each other.
But Chen Lingjun wasn't stupid; he could see many things.
For example, with Old Cui leaving for that Lotus Root Blessed Land, he definitely wouldn't come back.
But Chen Lingjun couldn't even say goodbye. When the blue-robed old scholar left with Pei Qian, he could only sit here in a daze, pretending he knew nothing.
Early in the morning, it was supposed to be the time for Pei Qian to climb the tower and take punches.
But now the Bamboo Tower was silent.
Chen Lingjun lay on the table, with a pile of melon seeds he had snatched from Chen Ruchu. The warm sun today made him so lazy he couldn't even muster the energy to crack the seeds.
He thought about going to the mountain gate to chat with Brother Big Wind. Brother Big Wind had a strong martial world spirit, but some of his dirty jokes were too convoluted; you had to think for a while to get the meaning.
Chen Lingjun turned to look at the row of residences. The old cook wasn't on the mountain, Pei Qian wasn't there either. Cen Yuanji couldn't cook and found it troublesome, so she had Chen Ruchu prepare a big batch of pastries. Zhou Mili was a little water monster that didn't actually need to eat. So there was no cooking smoke on the mountain. "Layers of peach and plum flowers on the mountain, amidst the clouds and smoke are people's homes."
Chen Lingjun felt that with fewer people on Luopo Mountain, each busy with their own affairs, the human touch had faded a lot.
Chen Lingjun shifted his gaze to the second floor of the Bamboo Tower, feeling some sadness.
When the old man was here, he always felt uncomfortable, thinking he'd never be able to withstand two of the old man's punches. Now that he was gone, his heart felt empty.
Chen Lingjun sighed heavily, reached for a melon seed, intending to chew it without shelling just to pass the time.
Then Chen Lingjun froze. He gently put the seed back, moved his butt, and slowly turned his head, planning to naturally look away from the cliff.
Unexpectedly, the blue-robed old Confucian scholar who appeared out of nowhere smiled at him.
Chen Lingjun swallowed, stood up, bowed, and said, "Chen Lingjun pays respects to the Grand Master."
The Dali Embroidery Tiger, Cui Chan.
A formidable character who could crush him with a single finger.
Chen Ping'an wasn't on Luopo Mountain, the old man wasn't in the Bamboo Tower, Zhu Lian and Wei Bo had gone to the Central March domain. He, Chen Lingjun, had no backing for now!
Cui Chan smiled and said, "Go about your business."
Chen Lingjun glanced at the bluestone path from the Bamboo Tower to the residences, thought it was risky, took his leave, and climbed down the cliff. Taking that path kept him farther from the Grand Master, which was safer.
Cui Chan recalled the little green snake's expression towards the Bamboo Tower earlier, and smiled.
He had a small idea, casually executed, not making a big fuss.
In the western mountains of Longquan Prefecture, there was a temporarily occupied peak that seemed suitable for dragons and serpents to live in.
Cui Chan stood in the second-floor corridor, quietly waiting for someone to arrive.
A white rainbow shot from the distant sky, like spring thunder exploding, rushing over fiercely.
No regard for the rules Ruan Qiong had established.
Cui Chan shook his head, sighing inwardly, glad he had informed Ruan Qiong.
A white-clad youth with a mole between his eyebrows, holding a green bamboo staff of ordinary material, travel-worn and exhausted.
Cui Dongshan landed on the ground floor, eyes bloodshot, furious: "You old bastard, you just eat shit every day? Why didn't you stop Grandpa from going to that blessed land?!"
Cui Chan retorted, "And if I stopped him, then what?"
Cui Dongshan's face turned green with rage: "Stop him for one day, one day! Isn't it okay to wait for me to arrive?! Then you can go to hell!"
Cui Chan's expression was indifferent.
Cui Dongshan suddenly calmed down, took a deep breath: "Grandpa studied, practiced martial arts, and lived his life with no turning back. The only time he yielded was for us two worthless grandsons with broken minds! That retreat ruined everything. The eleventh martial realm, gone! Without the eleventh realm, he will die!"
Cui Chan said, "And also for your master and this Luopo Mountain."
Cui Dongshan stepped back, plopped down at the stone table, holding his bamboo staff, lowering his head, gritting his teeth.
Unable to sit still, he stood up, paced quickly in circles.
Cui Chan watched the frantic figure, said slowly: "You're even worse than me. You can't even figure out what Grandpa truly cared about, why he made such choices. Coming here, what's the point? Even if you went to the Lotus Root Blessed Land and found Grandpa, what use? Maybe some, to make Grandpa leave with unease."
Cui Dongshan stopped, eyes sharp: "Cui Chan! Watch your words!"
Cui Chan said, "Cui Dongshan, you need to grow up and be sensible. Just because you've re-entered the Upper Five Realms doesn't mean you can jump around in front of me."
Cui Dongshan sat down gently, hugging his green bamboo staff, no longer looking at the second floor, muttering to himself: "That debate between the Third and Fourth, why did Grandpa have to get involved? Why did Grandpa lose his mind? Wasn't it because of us? Grandpa was a scholar, always hoped we would be true scholars. His life's learning, the root of his knowledge, was from the Second Sage lineage. Why, in the Central Earth Divine Continent, did he have to angrily throw punches for our Wen Sheng lineage? And why did we commit the ultimate betrayal, making Grandpa even more disappointed?"
Cui Chan slammed his hand on the railing, finally furious: "Ask me?! Ask heaven and earth, ask your conscience!"
Cui Dongshan's eyes were dazed, hands gripping the staff: "I'm tired. Can't ask anymore."
Cui Dongshan remembered when he was very young, the strict and old-fashioned old man would take him on mountain visits and climbs. The road was long, making the child miserable. Once, the old man climbed the stairs, ignoring the child's sweat, walking ahead alone. The old man seemed deliberately to anger his grandson, not only going far away but also loudly reciting poetry by a Central Earth literary giant: "A man's strong integrity is rare like yours, alas I want to say, how can I get a giant pen like a long beam!" The child memorized that poem firmly. Later, the child grew up, left home in a fit of pique, became a student of the old scholar, who inexplicably became the Sage of Literature, and the youth became the Sage's first disciple. Finally, he had the chance to meet the renowned Confucian sage of the Central Earth. But at that time, more spirited than any peer, the youth only had one thought: when he got the chance to return home, he must tell his grandfather that the man he admired was inferior to his grandson in essays, and lost in chess to the point of pulling his beard. But over his life, he saved up many things to say. When he could speak, he didn't want to; when he wanted to speak, he couldn't.
From afar, in Longquan Prefecture city, morning bells sounded, coming from afar. With the bell, the city gates would open, people would work, until evening drums signaled family gatherings, joy and harmony.
---
Near the foot of the new Central March of Dali, Yuchun Prefecture was a medium-sized prefecture, not a wealthy place in the old Zhu Ying dynasty. Its literary and martial fortunes were average, its fengshui mediocre, not benefiting from the great March of Chezi Mountain. The new prefect, Wu Yuan, was an outsider. It was said he had been a prefect in Dali proper, a lateral transfer. But savvy officials knew it was undoubtedly a demotion; once out of the court's sight, one lost the chance for rapid promotion to Dali's central government. Sent to a vassal state without a promotion, he was clearly a frustrated man sitting on the bench, probably having offended someone. However, despite his dim official prospects, he was from Dali proper and young. The governor of Liangzhou had privately instructed Yuchun's officials to treat Wu Yuan with courtesy. If he had new brooms sweeping clean, even against local customs, they must tolerate it. Fortunately, Wu Yuan made almost no moves after taking office; he just showed up on time, left big and small matters to old yamen staff, and gave away chances to appear in public to senior assistants. So the atmosphere was harmonious. But such a soft temperament inevitably made subordinates think little of him.
One day, the young prefect sat in his office as usual, his desk piled with county gazetteers and topographic maps, reading slowly, occasionally writing something. Wu Yuan sensed something, looked up, and saw a familiar face leaning against the doorframe. Wu Yuan's mood lifted greatly, he smiled, stood up, and bowed: "The Mountain Lord arrives, I failed to welcome you from afar." It was Wei Bo, who had dropped his concealment technique.
Wei Bo stepped over the threshold, laughed: "Lord Wu is a bit disloyal. For that last Night Spirit Traveling Banquet, you only sent a congratulatory letter."
Wu Yuan smiled frankly: "My salary is meager. A tenth goes to living expenses, half to buying books. The rest I save, and I recently set my sights on an ancient inkstone from neighboring Yunxing Prefecture. I can't make a fat face even by slapping it. I thought the Mountain Lord wouldn't bother to travel so far to scold me. I never imagined Lord Wei was so persistent as to actually come."
Wei Bo twisted his wrist, producing a famous old-pit banana-leaf inkstone from the old Zhu Ying dynasty, placing it gently on the desk: "Lord Wu is disloyal, but I am very different. I traveled a long way to visit an old friend, and even took a detour to buy a gift."
Wu Yuan bent to gaze at the adorable ancient inkstone, stroking its texture, delighted: "Good heavens! A top-grade banana-leaf inkstone from the bottom of the Green Dragon Pit. The key is that our Dali stationed general has already sealed this old pit, sending martial artists to guard it, clearly intending it to become tribute for the Emperor soon. So the few such inkstones on the market are terrifyingly expensive. Even if I were prefect for a hundred years, I might not afford one." Wu Yuan reluctantly looked away to the white-clad divine man, smiled: "Mountain Lord, speak frankly. For this priceless inkstone, I promise to tell everything I know."
Wei Bo asked: "How is the Central Mountain Lord, Jin Qing?"
The new Dali Central March, Mountain Lord Jin Qing, had been the highest-ranked mountain god of the Zhu Ying dynasty. Halfway up the mountain was a natural sword-washing pool where many sword cultivators came to sharpen their blades. Jin Qing often secretly protected them, so he had good relations not only with Zhu Ying, which had the most sword cultivators on the continent, but also with many Golden Core sword cultivators. He was particularly close with Li Tuanjing of the Wind and Thunder Garden, known worldwide. Early in his travels, Li Tuanjing had many conflicts in Zhu Ying, once angering a Northern March god. In a dangerous moment, Jin Qing risked enmity with the two other March lords to escort Li, then only at the Dragon Gate realm, safely out of the dynasty.
Wu Yuan laughed heartily, turned, pulled out a stack of papers written in neat small regular script, and handed them to Wei Bo: "I've written everything here."
Wei Bo flipped through the pages, clicked his tongue: "Along the way, locals said Yuchun had a magistrate nobody ever saw. But it seems Lord Wu hasn't been idle." Hearing random gossip is meaningless and easily misleading. Wu Yuan's papers recorded the concrete actions of the Central March Chezi Mountain and Mountain Lord Jin Qing throughout history. Wei Bo read carefully: Jin Qing in which dynasty, which era, what he did, item by item. Additionally, there were red-ink annotations, Wu Yuan's detailed commentary as a bystander reviewing history. Some folk legends were also noted, but Wu Yuan circled them with "supernatural" and "mythological" at the end.
Wei Bo read quickly, finished, returned the papers, smiled: "The gift wasn't wasted." He stood on tiptoe, glanced at the desk: "Oh, what a coincidence. Lord Wu is studying the origins of various inkstone pits in Yunxing? Want to publish a book? A prefect of Yuchun secretly profiting from Yunxing's specialty isn't proper, is it?"
Wu Yuan said frankly: "I have nothing to do, so I use this trivial matter as a starting point to understand the official changes in the Zhu Ying dynasty. The national archives are sealed; I have no chance to read them, so I have to find another way."
Wei Bo nodded appreciatively: "It's a pity you weren't appointed the new governor of our Longzhou."
Wu Yuan smiled: "Merit rewarded, faults punished, that's proper. I'm satisfied to keep my prefect's hat. It also avoids offending certain big figures in the court, not blocking anyone's path. It's a blessing in disguise. Hiding here, I enjoy the peace."
Wei Bo didn't stay long. Wu Yuan said: "Mountain Lord, leaving your territory, you'll surely visit Xu Ruo, right? Better to go to the Central March temple first before visiting old friends."
Wei Bo nodded: "That's the plan. When I was in seclusion at Piyun Mountain, Mr. Xu helped guard my retreat. When I was about to succeed, he quietly left and returned to your Chezi Mountain. Such a great favor demands a personal thanks."
Wu Yuan smiled: "Then I ask the Mountain Lord to hurry off. Don't delay my enjoyment of the ancient inkstone."
Wei Bo laughed and departed, his form dissipating.
After Wei Bo left the ferry boat and appeared in Yunxing Prefecture, the majestic statue in the Central March temple on Chezi Mountain's main peak had opened its golden eyes. But Mountain Lord Jin Qing chose to ignore the white-clad god's visit. When Wei Bo appeared at the foot of the mountain in Yuchun, Jin Qing strode out of his golden body manifestation. He was a tall, burly man in purple robes with a jade belt. The temple was crowded with worshippers, but none could see this scene.
Jin Qing walked through the crowd of devotees, stepped over the threshold, and with one step arrived at the relatively quiet summit of Chezi Mountain's secondary peak. The five sacred peaks in various countries are almost never solitary; they usually govern vast territories with mountain ranges. Chezi Mountain consisted of eight peaks. The main peak was revered as the "ancestor of all mountains" in central Zhu Ying, with a Central March temple at its summit for emperors and subjects to offer sacrifices.
The secondary peak was called Stacked Barriers Peak, with no temples or monasteries on top. It was where Jin Qing first built a mountain god's palace. Now only a few female attendants cared for the buildings; no god resided there. When the buildings first appeared, Jin Qing wasn't yet the Central Mountain Lord. Chezi Mountain was already the ancient central peak of Zhu Ying. After the old mountain lord's golden body collapsed, the authority over the peak passed to Jin Qing. At that time, a famous prime minister of Zhu Ying, who held national power, had built a thatched hut on the north slope of Stacked Barriers Peak, where he studied and practiced martial arts for many years.
Jin Qing looked down at the land with an indifferent expression. All human affairs, like passing clouds.
Jin Qing shifted his gaze to the Old Lord's Cave on Sealed Dragon Peak, where the Mohist hero Xu Ruo stayed alone, ostensibly cultivating. In truth, every water and mountain god in Chezi Mountain's domain knew Xu Ruo was monitoring the central peak. Compared to the Eastern March of Qishan, where fighting was fierce and casualties heavy among cultivators, Chezi Mountain had seen little blood. Jin Qing only knew Xu Ruo had left the central peak domain twice. The last time was to Piyun Mountain to guard Wei Bo's retreat. The first time, his tracks were unknown. After that, Jin Qing expected a certain old sword immortal, a pillar of Zhu Ying, to appear, but he never did. Jin Qing wasn't sure if Xu Ruo had dealt with him. If Xu Ruo indeed stopped that old sword immortal, Jin Qing would feel somewhat relieved as a March lord of Bottle Gourd Continent.
As for Xu Ruo's cultivation level, no one could tell, and there was no definite account. If Longquan Sword Sect's Ruan Qiong was now Bottle Gourd Continent's most famous Upper Five Realm cultivator, then Xu Ruo was the most hidden. The only clue was after Snow Wind Temple's Wei Jin challenged Heavenly Lord Xie Shi, some words spread that if someone had held a sword behind him, Wei Jin might not have won. Even though Xu Ruo was cultivating right under Jin Qing's nose, the mountain lord still felt like looking into an abyss—unfathomable.
Jin Qing glanced at the Yuchun prefectural office, sneered. As expected, this Northern March lord had seen Wu Yuan and would first go to Sealed Dragon Peak to thank Xu Ruo before coming to him, to have more leverage.
Jin Qing frowned.
The next moment, a white-robed figure landed on Stacked Barriers Peak, walking slowly toward Jin Qing, smiling: "Greetings, Lord Jin. Sorry for the disturbance."
Jin Qing said: "Though we are both mountain lords, the five marches are different. No need for such courtesy. If you have business, speak; if not, I won't see you off."
Wei Bo nodded: "Best. I came to Chezi Mountain to remind you, Jin Qing, that the way you act as Central March lord displeases me, the Northern March lord."
Jin Qing didn't look at the elegant white-clad god, only gazing into the distance: "Displeased, so what?"
Wei Bo tapped the gold ring on his ear, smiled: "Then the Central March will have to be sealed."
Jin Qing turned his head: "With a secret decree from the Dali Emperor? Or a letter from the Ministry of Rites?"
Wei Bo nodded: "Of course..." Then shook his head: "Neither."
Jin Qing extended a hand, sneered: "Then Lord Wei, feel free?"
Wei Bo truly felt free. The Northern March's qi fortune surged like a mountain and sea, rushing towards the central region of the continent, momentum like Dali's iron cavalry riding clouds. Not just for show.
Jin Qing knew once the two marches' water and mountain qi collided, it would be a huge trouble. He couldn't help but shout angrily: "Wei Bo! Consider the consequences!"
Wei Bo clasped his hands behind his back, chuckled: "You should address me as Lord Wei."
Jin Qing wasted no more words. On Chezi Mountain's main peak, the Central March temple saw a huge divine golden body manifestation raise its arm, churning the sea of clouds, about to slap Stacked Barriers Peak. Behind Wei Bo, on the peak, another towering golden body manifestation stood, fifty zhang taller than the Central March god's, even though not on his own territory.
Wei Bo's Northern March divine manifestation, using his innate divine ability, grabbed one arm of the Central March god, pressed the other hand on its head, and stomped heavily, forcing Jin Qing's golden body to stagger backward, about to fall onto Chezi Mountain's Sealed Dragon Peak. Not stopping, Wei Bo's huge manifestation had a golden halo behind it; he reached back, grabbed the halo, and was about to smash it on the Central March manifestation's head. Both sides were somewhat restrained, the golden bodies turned intangible, otherwise Chezi Mountain's three peaks would have many buildings destroyed.
At that moment, from the Old Lord's Cave on Sealed Dragon Peak, an unremarkable man walked out of his hut, with a sword behind him in a strange posture. He seemed helpless, shook his head, reached for the sword hilt, and drew it a few inches. Instantly, between the two mountain god manifestations, a mountain range appeared horizontally.
He persuaded: "If two mountain lords really can't stand each other, better choose a civil literary contest. Rolling up sleeves for a fight damages dignity, and makes the Qishan and Ganzhou lords laugh. I, Xu Ruo, would also be suspected of failing in protecting the mountain."
Jin Qing, with a dark face, withdrew his golden body. Wei Bo also put away his majestic manifestation. But the Northern March qi's "mountain collision" southward didn't abate.
Jin Qing said: "Wei Bo, I advise you to stop!"
Wei Bo retorted: "Jin Qing, if you still act with your old mindset, you cannot guard the peace of this old land. The Dali court isn't stupid; they know you've never truly submitted. If you don't understand this, I might as well help Dali replace the mountain lord. I really dislike you. Xu Ruo stopping me once was already the limit of his goodwill to you."
Jin Qing turned to look north. At the border of the two marches, there were already signs of wind and rain anomalies.
Jin Qing said dejectedly: "Tell me, what should the Central March do for you to withdraw the Northern March fengshui?"
Wei Bo laughed: "You don't even show respect to the Northern March, and you think you have any loyalty to the Dali court? Do you think the Dali court is full of three-year-olds? You want me to teach you? Bring heavy gifts, go to Piyun Mountain, bow your head and apologize, and pay a visit to make amends!"
Xu Ruo touched his forehead, returned to his hut. Having such a friend was really unlucky.
Jin Qing asked doubtfully: "Just that?"
Wei Bo retorted: "Otherwise? Besides, once you reach the Northern March domain, the Dali capital is just a few steps away. Just lift your foot and you're there. As long as the Central March domain itself isn't in chaos, the Dali court isn't crazy to start a massacre here. Do you even understand that your ambiguous posture of seeming both loyal and righteous makes many surviving subjects of the fallen kingdom hopeful? They hope you'll awaken and rebel with them? If you truly think so, you're a real man. If you don't want that, willing to bear infamy to protect the people, then why are you playing hypocrite?"
Jin Qing was silent and gloomy.
Wei Bo said: "Don't forget the gifts when you go to Piyun Mountain. Heavy gifts show heavy sentiment."
After saying that, Wei Bo left Stacked Barriers Peak for the hut outside the Old Lord's Cave on Sealed Dragon Peak.
Xu Ruo stood at the door, arms crossed, leaning against the frame, said sourly: "Lord Wei, is this how you repay me? Empty-handed and causing such a scene?"
Wei Bo stamped his feet and sighed: "Great kindness is not rewarded!"
Xu Ruo rubbed his face with both hands: "To be a mountain lord to this extent, you're unique among all water and mountain gods in the Haoran World."
Wei Bo looked at him with grievance: "It's like a lean horse has long hair, a poor man has short ambition."
Xu Ruo smiled, pointed randomly: "Disappear, quick."
Wei Bo smiled: "As you command!" And he left.
Xu Ruo thought for a moment, flew to Stacked Barriers Peak. Mountain Lord Jin Qing stood there, expression grave. Xu Ruo said nothing.
Jin Qing suddenly said: "Under the scorching sun, thousands of people trek mountains, hundreds haul ropes, dozens wield axes, lowering by torchlight, to bring out this treasure."
Xu Ruo knew the mountain lord was referring to the historical excavation of mountains and pits for famous inkstones in the Zhu Ying dynasty. And Jin Qing, in his mortal life, had been a stone miner. Some said he drowned by accident, others that he was whipped to death by an overseer. After death, his resentment didn't turn him into a vengeful spirit; instead, he became a local spirit protecting the land. Eventually, the old mountain lord of Chezi Mountain valued his character and promoted him step by step to be the god of Stacked Barriers Peak.
Xu Ruo said slowly: "There is no monarch in the world with clean hands. If you weigh a monarch's gains and losses solely by pure benevolence and morality, it's unfair. Regarding the country and the people's welfare, we various schools each have our own yardstick, with considerable discrepancies. You, Jin Qing, as a god, have never extinguished your human conscience. I see that and greatly respect you." Xu Ruo smiled gently: "But worldly affairs are complex, and you inevitably have to go against your heart. I won't force you to do anything. Whether you agree with Wei Bo or refuse his goodwill, you are already worthy of your identity as Chezi Mountain's lord. If you are willing, I can leave this place. If you don't want to compromise, I am willing to deliver a full sword strike, completely shatter your golden body, and never let anyone insult you and Chezi Mountain."
Jin Qing turned and smiled: "A full sword strike from you, Xu Ruo, is it very lethal?"
Xu Ruo nodded: "Nurtured the sword for years, extremely lethal."
Jin Qing laughed: "Then let someone else experience that sword. My Chezi Mountain can't afford it."
Xu Ruo hesitated, then reminded: "When visiting Piyun Mountain, the gifts don't need to be too heavy."
Jin Qing laughed and cursed: "Turns out you're the same kind!"
Xu Ruo clasped his fists and smiled: "I've troubled you here for a long time. When you go to the capital, remember to send word. I'll treat you to a drink."
Jin Qing nodded, then asked: "Mr. Xu, did you come to my Chezi Mountain purposely from the start?"
Xu Ruo stopped, said calmly: "We are both here to reduce deaths. But if you ask why our Mohist school chose Dali, causing so many deaths in Bottle Gourd Continent, I cannot give you an answer now. Please wait and see."
Jin Qing said nothing.
Xu Ruo didn't return to Sealed Dragon Peak. He left Chezi Mountain, flying north toward the Dali capital. He didn't like flying on his sword. Because Xu Ruo always felt that sword and sword cultivator should be on equal footing.
That Jade Pure Realm sword immortal of Zhu Ying, who had been in seclusion for years, planned to assassinate Dali's new Patrol Envoy Cao Ping, but died before even moving. Actually, he didn't have to die; Xu Ruo only intended to severely wound him. The old man, who had been in seclusion for a century without breaking through, would rather die than become a prisoner or surrender to the enemy Song clan. After his sword broke and there was no chance, he waited to be killed, laughing that from the start he knew he would die, and dying at the hands of Xu Ruo, the foremost Mohist swordsman, was not a bad deal.
Xu Ruo made an exception and told him one thing: For an entire continent, from emperors and generals to commoners, all must die. The evening of the mortal world, no more cooking smoke.
After hearing that, the old man was only melancholy before death.
---
Pei Qian sat on a stool, looking around. The small house and yard were the same as before, almost giving Pei Qian the illusion that she and Cao Qinglang were still the same as before. She had just been asked by her master to fetch a bucket of water from the well, then she went out and returned, saw Cao Qinglang—just like that. The Spring Festival couplets pasted on the yard gate—she had stared at them a hundred times while waiting for Cao Qinglang outside. The calligraphy was good, but not so good that she felt inferior.
Cao Qinglang looked at this dark-skinned girl. He had many questions: why after so many years outside, she hadn't grown much taller? Now their height difference was a head. Why had she suddenly started carrying a bamboo box, wearing a bamboo knife and sword? How was Mr. Chen doing during his travels?
Pei Qian took off her bamboo box and placed it behind her, rested her walking staff horizontally on her knees, sat upright, looked straight ahead, not at Cao Qinglang, and said directly: "Do you know? Back then, my master actually wanted to take you away from the Lotus Root Blessed Land, and didn't want to take me at all."
Cao Qinglang hesitated, didn't answer quickly, smiled and asked back: "Mr. Chen accepted you as his disciple?"
Pei Qian's eyes sparkled like sun and moon, she nodded solemnly: "Yes! Master and I have traveled thousands of miles, and he never abandoned me!"
Cao Qinglang gently clenched his fists on his knees, smiled gently: "Although I'm sorry Mr. Chen didn't take me away, I think it's wonderful that you traveled far with him. I envy you."
Pei Qian was silent.
Cao Qinglang turned and asked: "When Mr. Chen asks you to fetch water now, do you still spill water to clean the streets while carrying the bucket?"
Pei Qian turned sharply, about to be angry, but saw the smile in Cao Qinglang's eyes. She felt like she had all martial arts skills, fists weighing a hundred catties, but facing a ball of cotton, she couldn't exert force. She snorted, crossed her arms: "You blockhead, what do you know? I've learned countless skills from Master. Never slack off. I copy books and learn characters, and practice martial arts. Whether Master is here or not, I'm the same."
Cao Qinglang pretended to realize: "Oh, really."
Pei Qian felt frustrated. This Cao Qinglang, after all these years, still didn't seem likable, and compared to the old shrinking violet, he seemed even bolder.
Pei Qian's eyes lit up: "Have you heard this poem: 'Iron flowers embroider rock walls, killing intent silences frogs and toads'?"
Cao Qinglang shook his head. He was now half a cultivator, could read ten lines at a glance with perfect memory, and had loved reading since childhood. Over time, Master Chongqiu was willing to lend him books. Before this world was split, Mr. Lu often sent him books from elsewhere. Not to brag, but Cao Qinglang had read quite a lot.
Pei Qian asked again: "Do you know how to write the character 'meng' (toad)?"
Cao Qinglang smiled, extended a finger, wrote the character in the air, and explained: "Confucian classics record: In the month of mid-autumn, cold air invades deeply, yang energy declines daily, hence the name 'killing intent'. Frogs and toads mean their croaking. Ancient sages had the phrase 'drive away frogs and toads'. I also heard a gentleman laugh and say: 'Ci poetry likes to trace its origin to the bold Su Shi and the soft Liu Yong. That gentleman laughed loudly and said, "I laugh loudly, like frogs croaking, slightly better than parrots talking."'"
Pei Qian kept a straight face: "So you know that too." The essence was in the word "too."
Cao Qinglang wasn't trying to show off his broad knowledge; he just wanted to know what kind of person Pei Qian was now. It was strange—Pei Qian seemed to have changed a lot, but also not.
Pei Qian suddenly said: "Last time we met, I actually wanted to kill you, because I was afraid you would take my master away. Master always thinks of you, not in words. Except when drinking, he speaks a little more about his feelings. More often, he just looks into the distance, in a daze. At those times, his eyes speak silently, so I know Master misses you very much. He always wanted to keep you by his side, so you wouldn't be left alone in the Lotus Root Blessed Land, afraid you would suffer." Pei Qian hesitated, grabbed her walking staff, knuckles white, tendons bulging on her hands, said slowly: "I'm sorry!"
Cao Qinglang nodded gently: "I accept your apology. Thinking that way was indeed wrong. But having that thought, you held back, controlled your heart, and ultimately didn't act. I think that's good. So you don't need to worry about me taking your master. Since Mr. Chen accepted you as his disciple, if one day you don't even have such thoughts, then not only me, but no one in the world can take him away."
Pei Qian shouted: "I'm his first disciple, not just an ordinary disciple!"
Cao Qinglang said helplessly: "Fine, fine, amazing, amazing."
Pei Qian squinted at him, slowly said: "Blockhead, aren't you angry?"
Cao Qinglang slightly propped his elbows, looked at Pei Qian, made a fierce face like the door gods on the yard gate, said: "I'm very angry!"
Pei Qian twitched her mouth: "How childish."
Cao Qinglang asked: "Did you come to Nanyuan Kingdom alone this time? Mr. Chen didn't come?"
Pei Qian shook her head, dejectedly: "I came with an old man who taught me boxing. We walked a long way to get here."
Cao Qinglang was curious: "Where is the old gentleman?"
Pei Qian turned, stared blankly toward the Heart-Phase Temple, saying nothing.
A moment later. Cao Qinglang was startled. The slightly taller, slightly less dark Pei Qian opened her mouth, didn't cry aloud, but tears and snot flowed. Instantly, Pei Qian stood up, too hastily, sending her walking staff flying. She ignored it. Then the ground shook, and Pei Qian vanished. Cao Qinglang worried, leaped like a bird, blue robe fluttering, following the thin figure over rooftops.
Pei Qian landed outside the Heart-Phase Temple corridor, facing the old man with closed eyes, shouted: "Old man, don't sleep!" She stomped one foot, pulled back the other, opened a simple and profound boxing stance, cried: "Grandpa Cui, get up and feed me punches!"
Cao Qinglang stood behind Pei Qian. A middle-aged monk came. Cao Qinglang clasped his hands, apologized. The abbot monk bowed slightly, chanted a Buddhist phrase, and left slowly.
Pei Qian held that boxing stance for a long time.
Cao Qinglang walked to her side, gently pressed on her fist: "The old gentleman is gone." He found he couldn't press down her fist at all. Pei Qian said to herself: "Grandpa Cui, don't sleep. Let's go home! This isn't home. Our home is on Luopo Mountain!"
Cao Qinglang sensed Pei Qian's abnormality, pressed heavily on her fist, whispered: "Pei Qian!" Pei Qian's fists were imbued with natural martial intent, burning Cao Qinglang's palm like hot coals. He showed no change, stepped like an immortal treading the Big Dipper, sleeves filled with breeze, one hand behind him forming a sword seal, forcefully pressing Pei Qian's fist down more than an inch. He said sternly: "Pei Qian, do you want the old gentleman to leave in unrest, worried?"
Interrupted from her surging martial intent, Pei Qian seemed to sober slightly, crouched down, held her head and wept, eyes fixed on the blue-robed old man sitting in the corridor.
The next moment, the dead old man's body, as if triggered by Pei Qian's earlier "divine drumbeat" boxing intent, his dormant martial intent revived. From Cui Cheng's hands folded before him, two clusters of radiant light appeared like sun and moon hanging in the void. All the martial intent of a peak tenth-realm martial artist surged from the withered body, from all apertures, into the two lights. Cao Qinglang was forced to close his eyes by the brilliance. He was pushed back against the wall by the overwhelming intent, couldn't move, his spiritual energy couldn't coalesce. But that heavy intent, as if even heaven and earth couldn't restrain, had no effect on Pei Qian.
Pei Qian clenched her fists, stood up. A pearl hovered before her, eventually circled Pei Qian, slowly rotating. Another pearl shot into the sky, collided with the firmament, and shattered, raining down like a drizzle of martial fortune. That half of martial fortune was supposed to go to Zhu Lian, who accompanied the old man and the girl into the new Lotus Root Blessed Land. After the old man died, Zhu Lian was a Far Traveling realm martial artist, the foremost in this world, so he could have taken a lot. But Zhu Lian refused.
Pei Qian dared not take the martial fortune pearl the old man left for her. What if Grandpa Cui wasn't dead? What if accepting this gift would make him truly die? Why must there be separation in life and death when young? And after growing up, still the same?
Cao Qinglang looked at her back, said softly: "Even when it hurts most, don't lie to yourself. Gone is gone. All we can do is make ourselves live better."
Pei Qian, back to him, nodded slightly, tremblingly reached out, and grasped the martial fortune pearl. She turned to Cao Qinglang: "Grandpa Cui actually had so many things to say to Master, but didn't have time."
In the small temple, the evening drums sounded melodiously.