Chapter 585: Drink with Me, Chen Ping'an

Chapter 585: Drink with Me, Chen Ping'an

Ning Yao saw Chen Ping'an returning from the city wall. She didn't say much. The old woman's heart had been wounded again, and she grabbed Nalan Yexing, scolding him with a string of "old dog, old dog" curses.

Nalan Yexing didn't talk back. In life, you have to accept your fate.

A true sword immortal, humiliated to such an extent—it was a rare sight.

The old man went off to drink alone in his melancholy.

Chen Ping'an was familiar with applying medicine and tending to wounds. White Steward had long since given him the keys to the Ning Mansion's alchemy rooms and treasury vaults.

On the way there, Chen Ping'an told Ning Yao and White Steward about the assassination attempt on Guo Zhujiu, explaining the whole story from beginning to end.

The old woman muttered, "Those underhanded bastards, always picking on children. They'll die a terrible death."

Ning Yao wasn't too concerned. As long as the little girl was fine, she didn't want to dwell on it. After all, Chen Ping'an liked to think things through; the capable should do more.

With Ning Yao accompanying the future young master, Bai Lianshuang didn't intrude. She would find another chance to scold that old dog Nalan again. Earlier, when the young lady and the young master were present, she hadn't been able to let loose fully.

Chen Ping'an knew the way well. His arms were a bloody mess, with the white bones of his hands exposed in many places, yet he seemed completely unaware. He selected three porcelain bottles and began applying various ointments—three different colors, each applied in a specific order. While bandaging his wounds, he even had the energy to joke about himself, "According to the Dragon Kiln's method of firing porcelain, this is called 'three-color overglaze.' It's not a particularly precious glaze. The Great Li emperors rarely used it for themselves; they mostly bestowed it on meritorious officials. Before the previous Great Li emperor, the old emperor favored a kind of underglaze blue-and-white with small doucai, plus gold tracing. That was truly beautiful, with complicated procedures and extremely difficult to produce. It was a bit gaudy, though. We never got to see a complete piece. I only saw fragments of defective pieces at Old Porcelain Mountain. They were indeed very flashy, with such complex craftsmanship that only Old Yao in his youth could have made them, among the dozens of Dragon Kiln kilns."

At first, Chen Ping'an was worried Ning Yao might find these trivial details annoying, but to his surprise, she listened very attentively. So he told a few more interesting stories from his Dragon Kiln days.

"When I was an apprentice, Liu Xianyang often dragged me to Old Porcelain Mountain. Once there, he acted like he was at home, picking and choosing, reciting everything as if it were his own collection. The old and new porcelains of various dynasties, what kind of vessels they were originally, what markings they should have—he knew it all as if he had fired them himself. Before we all became Qi refiners, firing porcelain really did require talent. Once you become a cultivator, looking at the mundane arts like chess, music, calligraphy, and painting naturally loses its flavor. At a glance, you see too many flaws, countless errors that can't withstand careful scrutiny. Ah, 'Becoming a mountain guest, I wake first from the great dream, and call it ordinary.'"

"Song Jixin's father preferred things much lighter and more elegant. Our kiln was specially commissioned by the court to fire large vessels. Privately, we apprentices gave many characteristics of those imperial heavy vessels names like 'loach back,' 'lampgrass root,' and 'cat's whiskers.' At the time, we wondered if the richest old emperor in the world knew about these nicknames. I heard that the current young emperor's taste has shifted toward the gaudy again, but compared to his grandfather, he's still quite restrained."

Ning Yao smiled. "How can you remember so many things? I can't."

Chen Ping'an said, "Why are you insulting me in a roundabout way?"

Ning Yao was puzzled. "What did I insult you about?"

Chen Ping'an replied, "Aren't you complaining that I'm not focused enough on cultivation and that my realm advancement is too slow?"

Ning Yao curled her finger and flicked it gently toward one of Chen Ping'an's arms. "You're asking for a beating."

Chen Ping'an quickly turned to dodge, tucking his hands into his sleeves. "An ordinary woman, seeing such a miserable sight, would have long been crying like a pear blossom in the rain. But you? You want to add frost to the snow."

Ning Yao stopped walking. "Oh? Have I wronged you?"

Chen Ping'an remained composed, hopping forward on both feet with his hands in his sleeves, shaking his head and muttering to himself, "The Ning Yao I love, how could she be an ordinary woman?"

Ning Yao kicked him from behind.

The kick landed on his buttocks, sending him floating forward headfirst. He flipped gracefully, touched the ground with his head, and stood up easily, turning around with a smile. "This 'Heaven and Earth Stake'—do you want to learn it?"

Ning Yao walked forward slowly, ignoring him.

Chen Ping'an stood there, waiting for Ning Yao to catch up before continuing their stroll. He asked quietly, "That batch of geniuses before you—roughly between fifty and a hundred years old, that small group of innate sword embryos—were they strong? I've only met one of them at the Stacked Peaks tavern, Wang Zongping, an infant-breakthrough bottleneck sword cultivator. The rest I haven't seen yet."

Ning Yao didn't answer immediately. Instead, she asked, "Our generation of sword cultivators is a rare crop of geniuses, a great year not seen in a millennium. You've heard that before, right? Around thirty or so of us. After two great battles, do you know how many are left?"

Chen Ping'an said, "Including the six like Guo Zhujiu who went up to the city wall but didn't go down to the south, thirty-two in total. Now twenty-four survive, eight have fallen in battle. Half died in chaotic fighting. One of them, Zhang Rong, who had excellent aptitude, was assassinated by a Jade Purity realm great demon. The sword formation master guarding Zhang Rong couldn't save him and died alongside him."

Ning Yao looked at Chen Ping'an. She seemed unwilling to say more. Since you know everything, why ask? There were many things she couldn't remember as clearly as he did.

But seeing Chen Ping'an looking so pitiful, Ning Yao finally continued, "I need to cultivate. We'll talk later."

Chen Ping'an said, "Then I'll go drink with Grandpa Nalan."

Ning Yao quickened her pace. "Suit yourself."

Chen Ping'an, who hadn't really wanted to drink before, now genuinely felt like having some wine.

Without turning around, Ning Yao said, "Don't drink too much."

Chen Ping'an agreed verbally, but he hadn't wanted to drink that much a moment ago. Now he suddenly wanted to drink a lot more.

When he arrived at Nalan Yexing's courtyard, the old man was sighing deeply. It wasn't that drinking couldn't dispel his sorrow, but that old woman had just left, having scolded him mercilessly.

Nalan Yexing asked with a smile, "Care for a drink?"

Chen Ping'an nodded with a smile. The old man poured him a bowl of wine, careful not to fill it too full, since the future young master was still injured. He was afraid that old woman would find another excuse to scold him.

Chen Ping'an's arms were bandaged like rice dumplings, making it hard to move. But as a Lower Fifth Realm cultivator, he had at least learned some spell techniques. With a slight thought, he controlled the wine in the bowl, pulling the white bowl toward him. He imitated Chen Sanqiu, lowering his head to bite the edge of the bowl, then gently tilted it to drink a mouthful of wine.

Nalan Yexing smiled. This was adapting to local customs—very good.

Chen Ping'an complained, "Grandpa Nalan, why isn't this from our own tavern's Bamboo Sea Cave Heaven wine?"

Nalan Yexing chuckled. "These are all from this year's reserves in the Ning Mansion's cellars. Your White Steward gives me a fixed drinking quota at the beginning of every year. It's almost the end of the year, so there aren't many jars left at home. Next year, I'll patronize your business. I don't need to say it—our White Steward will go buy plenty to store up."

Chen Ping'an asked, "Grandpa Nalan, are you curious why my Eighteen Stops of Sword Qi are progressing so slowly?"

Nalan Yexing nodded. "Logically speaking, it shouldn't be this slow. But since Young Master Chen doesn't bring it up, I'm not at liberty to ask."

Chen Ping'an explained, "One of the key acupoints along the Sword Qi pathway—like the wine on this table—had something old stored there."

Nalan Yexing was curious. "Was it a relic of some sword immortal, or another person's destined flying sword that Young Master has put aside for now?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "It was a strand of sword qi."

Nalan Yexing was startled. "A strand of sword qi?"

Chen Ping'an grinned brightly. "An 'extremely, extremely small' strand of sword qi. I can't say more than that."

Zuo You had said that with Nalan Yexing around, he could speak freely.

Even if the sword immortals in the city used their mountain-river divine abilities to spy on the Ning Mansion, they would deliberately avoid Nalan Yexing, a former Immortal Realm cultivator.

Nalan Yexing was deeply shaken internally but didn't ask further. He raised his wine bowl. "Enough talk. Let's drink."

At Nalan Yexing's place, Chen Ping'an didn't worry much about formalities. Even if his drinking posture was inelegant, he felt no burden.

Nalan Yexing certainly didn't care. His future young master was pleasing to the eye no matter how he looked. Excellent fist techniques, learning swordsmanship not slowly, thoughtful and thorough, handsome, and most importantly, literate—a rare thing on the Sword Qi Great Wall. He and the young lady were truly a match made in heaven. No wonder that old woman Bai Lianshuang was so protective of him at every turn.

While the old and young drank together.

Ning Yao also sat with White Steward, talking in private.

The old woman asked with a smile, "Young master practicing swordplay with his senior brother, going through some hardship—that's a good thing. Don't worry too much. It's not everyone who can get Zuo You to teach swordsmanship wholeheartedly. Over the years, I've heard of many clever ones who tried every trick to get close to that great sword immortal, but Zuo You, proud as he is, never bothered. The way I see it, Zuo You didn't really acknowledge our young master's status as a disciple of the Sage of Wen. He genuinely recognized a junior apprentice brother, which is why he's willing to do this."

Ning Yao shook her head, resting it on the table. "It's not that."

The old woman smiled without speaking.

Ning Yao sat up. "He says a lot of nice things."

The old woman asked, "Doesn't the young lady like it?"

Ning Yao shook her head. "I do like it."

The old woman asked again, "Is the young lady worried he might like someone else?"

Ning Yao shook her head again. "I'm not worried."

The old woman finally couldn't help but laugh. "Is it that you feel he's changed too much, and at the same time, you feel like you're standing still, afraid that one day he'll walk ahead of you? Not that you're afraid of his realm rising or anything, but you're worried that the two of you will have less and less to talk about?"

Ning Yao, her heart laid bare, put her head back down and stared blankly. Then, in a low voice, she said, "I've never liked talking much since I was little. That guy, on the other hand, is a chatterbox. There's so much I don't know how to respond to. Could there come a day when he finds me too dull? He'll still like me, of course, but he might not want to talk as much anymore."

The old woman was thoroughly amused, though she didn't laugh out loud. "Why doesn't the young lady just say these things?"

Ning Yao said in frustration, "I don't want to. He's so smart, always stewing over things every day, thinking about everything. Can't he figure it out?"

The old woman teased, "Good thing you didn't say it, or our young master would really be wronged. A woman's heart is as deep as the sea. Young master isn't some omniscient, infallible immortal."

Ning Yao nodded slightly, her mood a bit better, but not much.

The old woman wasn't in a hurry.

These little worries.

Probably only come when you truly love someone.

That night in the darkness.

On the city wall, after midnight, Wei Jin stood beside Zuo You, drinking a pot of Qingshen Mountain wine he had finally managed to buy. The shop only sold one pot a day. If he got it, it meant no other sword cultivator would have it that day.

Wei Jin asked with a smile, "Before Chen Ping'an started practicing swordsmanship, did he say I set him up?"

Zuo You shook his head. "That would just be asking for a beating. My junior apprentice brother wouldn't do that."

Wei Jin said helplessly, "Is he that sharp?"

Zuo You smiled. "The Master once said that one of your swords, plus my sword at Jiao Long Gully, had a huge impact on Chen Ping'an."

Wei Jin was taken aback, then nodded. "Back in the day, with that Bride Ghost, I followed Senior Brother A Liang's agreement. The sword arrived before I did, and it saw Chen Ping'an when he was still young."

Zuo You was silent for a moment. "Do you think that being trapped by love, being entangled, makes it hard for sword intent to be pure, hard for a person to reach the summit?"

Wei Jin nodded. "I do have that worry. And in fact, that's how it is."

Zuo You laughed. "Then you're wrong. Completely wrong."

Wei Jin put away his wine and sat up straight. "I am ready to receive Senior Left's guidance."

Zuo You asked, "When a sword cultivator practices the sword, what matters most?"

Wei Jin shook his head. "I have many answers in my mind, but none are what Senior is thinking."

Zuo You raised one hand, making a gripping gesture like holding a sword. "It is the person who holds the sword. So no matter how high your sword technique, no matter how great your sword path, for us sword cultivators, those are minor matters. You could be holding one of the legendary five immortal swords; regardless of your current realm, whether you are a sword immortal or not, you are the one holding the sword."

Zuo You lowered his hand and turned his head. "If you cannot draw your sword just because you love a woman, what kind of sword immortal are you? You, Wei Jin, are merely talented at learning the sword, which is why you have reached Jade Purity. If this continues, relying solely on natural talent won't carry you to the heights. I dare say, if you do not break through this heart barrier soon, your ultimate achievements will be mediocre. Talk to me less from now on."

Wei Jin took a big gulp of wine and murmured, "But I still feel that in this world, nothing is longer than the bonds between lovers. I cannot bear to cut them off, nor do I even want to. Thinking of her, drinking wine, muddling through, wandering in circles in the mountains—isn't that better for me than loving one person less, drinking less, and ascending with a sword?"

Zuo You shook his head. "Then you're beyond saving."

Wei Jin asked tentatively, "Does that mean I won't be able to chat with Senior anymore?"

Zuo You laughed. "Sword Immortal Wei Jin, get the hell out of here. Drunkard Wei Jin, you're welcome to come by often."

Wei Jin laughed heartily and drank freely. He was about to ask a question: the four worlds were known to have four immortal swords in total, a fact known across the world, so why did Zuo You say five?

The Second Dao Ancestor of the Azure Underworld had one. The Grand Celestial Master of Dragon Tiger Mountain in the Central Plains Divine Continent had one. And that scholar deemed the most proud man in the world also had one. Besides these, it was said that one of the nine grand towers of the Haoran World, the Sword Suppression Tower, held the last one. The four worlds were vast; immortal weapons were not numerous, but they were not few either. Yet, in the past ten thousand years, only these four swords had been worthy of the name "immortal sword," and there would never be more.

But before Wei Jin could finish his wine and ask, he left that spot on the city wall.

Because the Oldest Sword Immortal had arrived.

Wei Jin left the wall, bowing in farewell.

Chen Qingdu stood by the wall. "Surprised to find yourself with such a junior apprentice brother?"

Zuo You nodded but didn't speak.

The youth Zhao Gaoshu, learning the Eighteen Stops of Sword Qi.

Back then, when Zuo You had sealed off heaven and earth with his sword qi, Chen Ping'an had spoken those words.

In fact, at that time, Chen Ping'an had simultaneously spoken with his mind, but under a different name: Zhao Shuxia.

So young, yet cautious to such an extent—even Zuo You was somewhat surprised.

The old man didn't mind Zuo You's silent nod, which might have seemed disrespectful. If even Zuo You's pride couldn't be tolerated, how many people on this city wall, including the many sword immortals of the northern city, would be left alive under Chen Qingdu's sword?

And Zuo You wasn't surprised that Chen Qingdu knew about this.

On this city wall beneath their feet, Chen Qingdu was virtually invincible in the world, probably only slightly inferior to the Saint in the Confucian Temple, the Dao Ancestor in the White Jade Capital, and the Buddha on his lotus throne.

This was also what frustrated Zuo You the most.

But at the same time, it was what Zuo You admired most about this old man.

Why had the Sword Qi Great Wall stood firm for ten thousand years against the attacks of the Barren Wastelands?

All the great demons of the Barren Wastelands knew in their hearts: as long as Chen Qingdu lived for one more day, even if the entire Sword Qi Great Wall fell, they still couldn't reach the Hanging Mountain or the Haoran World.

Only Chen Qingdu could suppress the proud sword cultivators north of the Sword Qi Great Wall for ten thousand years.

Only this old man could say to the Hidden Official, "You are young, so I tolerate you."

Chen Qingdu said, "Once all the big and small troubles in the city are over, have Chen Ping'an come live in my thatched hut. He needs to focus on practicing the sword. When he becomes a true sword cultivator worthy of the name, I will leave the city wall and help him propose marriage. Otherwise, I wouldn't have the face to make such a request. One exception made by an Oldest Sword Immortal—a shop's worth of wine and a small school—can't buy that."

Zuo You said, "That's up to him. If you don't go to the Yao family then, I will."

Chen Qingdu laughed. "That's not very kind. Neither your Master nor your junior apprentice brother would say such things."

Zuo You frowned. "Are you also keeping an eye on that alley child by the tavern? Chen Qingdu doesn't care about so many things—would he actually care about this?"

Chen Qingdu retorted, "And why not?"

"My sword technique is higher than yours, my sword intent higher, my sword path higher, and even my learning is greater. If you pay attention to things, why shouldn't I take a few more looks?"

Zuo You said expressionlessly, "I've tolerated you twice."

Chen Qingdu smiled slightly. "Since your sword qi's furthest reach still falls short of mine, you'd better keep tolerating it."

Zuo You sneered. "Three times."

Chen Qingdu asked, "Do you know why I'm willing to take a look at the literacy teaching in the alley?"

Zuo You said calmly, "This touches on the biggest problem of the Sword Qi Great Wall. For ten thousand years, sword cultivators have drawn their swords and killed enemies. More and more people no longer know why. Why they live. Why they die."

Chen Qingdu nodded, looking toward the lights of the northern city. In the mansions of the great clans, lanterns blazed like daylight. In the cramped alleys of the common folk, it was dark. Where the two met, there were scattered points of light.

"The meaning of life and death—that's still manageable. After all, selfishness runs deep, and it's hard for people to truly feel anything."

Chen Qingdu's expression was lonely. "I have always hoped that someone over there would do it themselves, think it through themselves, come to understand it themselves. Knowing the cause and effect, all the historical origins, knowing the price they and their ancestors paid—even then, they can still let the surviving sword cultivators, despite bearing resentment, grievances, and anger, still draw their swords. Person and sword, both heading south. If death comes, so be it."

The old man extended a palm, slowly raising it. "The lanterns of the human world. First, one spark. One gives birth to two, two to three. Three rises into a vast galaxy of stars."

Zuo You shook his head. "Too late. Too lost."

Chen Qingdu smiled. "Zuo You, you are inferior to your junior apprentice brother. Knowing it's of little use, that it's hard to change the predetermined outcome, he still patiently does it."

Zuo You was silent.

Chen Qingdu asked with a smile, "Four times?"

Zuo You said, "No."

Chen Qingdu nodded. "Then I won't hit you. I'll save you some face, so you won't feel awkward when teaching your junior apprentice brother swordsmanship later."

Zuo You said, "Now it's four times."

Chen Qingdu clasped his hands behind his back and walked away, leaving only a parting remark. "Compared to chatting with you, I still prefer listening to Chen Ping'an talk."

----

In the night, Chen Ping'an strolled over to the Dragon-Slaying Platform. Ning Yao was still cultivating, so Chen Ping'an walked to the training ground. He simply walked in circles, and when he was about to complete a full circuit, he shifted his steps slightly, drawing a larger circle.

At some point, Ning Yao had come to his side. Chen Ping'an wasn't surprised.

Nalan Yexing's stealth and concealment techniques—Ning Yao had long since mastered them.

All these years, the thing Ning Yao had been refining was not that innate destined flying sword of high rank, but something else entirely.

Yet even if Ning Yao only used her destined flying sword, it was enough to kill Pang Yuanji, Qi Shou, and the others with certainty.

This was something Ning Yao had mentioned casually during a previous chat with Chen Ping'an. She had said it lightly and naturally, but she had been looking straight at him.

At that time, Chen Ping'an had been about to place his hand on hers, but he quietly withdrew it and instead raised his hand to fan himself in the breeze.

The two walked up to the pavilion.

Chen Ping'an sat cross-legged beside Ning Yao.

Ning Yao picked up the topic from earlier that day. "In Wang Zongping's generation, there were originally about ten people. Compared to us, they were far inferior, both in numbers and in innate talent for cultivation. Among them, Mi Quan would have had the highest Dao achievements, but he died in his first battle outside the city. Now only three are left. Besides Wang Zongping, who was severely wounded in the crossfire between an enemy and an allied Immortal Realm cultivator and has been stuck at the infant-breakthrough bottleneck for many years, there are Wang Wei and Su Yong. Su Yong's innate talent was actually better than Wang Zongping's, who was at the bottom back then. But his sword heart wasn't firm or clear enough. He participated in the great battles, but he deliberately avoided the true danger, never daring to forget himself and fight with abandon. He always thought that if he cultivated quietly and lived to a hundred, he could steadily and securely break into the Upper Five Realms, and then fight with full force. But in the most perilous bottleneck-breaking battle of the Sword Qi Great Wall, Su Yong not only failed to reach Jade Purity, but was actually rejected by the world's sword intent and dropped in realm, becoming a gold-core sword cultivator with a shattered dan room leaking Qi from all sides. He lay dormant for years, eventually wasting away in the city's alleys and streets. He became a gambling drunkard, defaulting on countless debts, living worse than a rat crossing the street. Bastards like Qi Shou, when they were young, loved to invite Su Yong for drinks. As long as Su Yong could get wine, he didn't mind being a laughingstock, living half-human, half-ghost. When Qi Shou and the others reached higher realms and stopped finding Su Yong amusing, Su Yong started running errands between the city and the mirage towers, earning small money to buy wine, and when he earned big money, he gambled."

These were things she had hastily asked White Steward about.

Chen Ping'an asked directly, "Does Su Yong bear a grudge against the entire Sword Qi Great Wall?"

Ning Yao thought for a moment and shook her head. "Probably not. In the years before A Liang left the Sword Qi Great Wall, whether drinking or running gambling tables, Su Yong often followed him."

Chen Ping'an nodded. "Only Wang Wei has become a sword immortal. Back when he was a gold-core sword cultivator, he became a low-ranking retainer of the Qi family. Twenty years ago, he successfully broke into the Upper Five Realms and established his own household, marrying a woman from a prominent clan as his Dao companion. That counts as a fulfilled life. I heard at the tavern that Wang Wei's late rise to becoming a sword immortal was somewhat unexpected."

Ning Yao said, "Wang Wei was indeed unremarkable. Breaking into the Upper Five Realms around the age of ninety is rare in the Haoran World, but here, as the surviving Jade Purity sword cultivator from the earlier group of ten or so, he naturally became the leader. It's easy to compare him with others. Compared with the earlier generation, Wang Wei was far too mediocre. Compared with our generation, people like Pang Yuanji, Qi Shou, and Gao Yebiao don't think much of him, even as a sword immortal who always bows and scrapes. Even Sanqiu and Fatty Yan look down on him."

Ning Yao said softly, "But on the Sword Qi Great Wall, no matter what realm a sword cultivator is, staying alive is the greatest ability. If you die, what do you even count for, even if you're a genius or a sword immortal? We young sword cultivators may laugh at Zhao Yong's plight and Wang Wei's lack of sword immortal quality while drinking today, but after the next great battle, when Wang Wei drinks with his friends and talks about certain young people, they might already be speaking of the departed."

When they reached the Dragon-Slaying Platform pavilion, Ning Yao suddenly said, "Give me a jug of wine."

Chen Ping'an withdrew his hand from his sleeve and handed her a jug of Bamboo Sea Cave Heaven wine from their own tavern. Ning Yao drank. "Little Grandpa Dong was a true genius. He went to the city wall at the Cavern Dwelling realm, came down at the Sea Observation realm, and at the Dragon Gate realm had already killed more than ten demon creatures of the same realm and three gold-core demon creatures, earning the nickname 'Sword Fanatic.' Later, he left the Sword Qi Great Wall alone to temper his sword intent in the Barren Wastelands. When he returned, he was already an Upper Five Realms sword cultivator. In subsequent battles, he killed countless demons. At that time, Little Grandpa Dong was hailed as the young man most likely to become a Flying Ascension sword immortal."

Dong Guanpu, who had colluded with a great demon. When the matter came to light, the public was furious. Before the Hidden Official could act, the Oldest Sword Immortal Chen Qingdu struck him down with a single sword.

At that time, Chen Ping'an had been on the city wall and witnessed the scene.

Ning Yao drank more wine. "Not long after Little Grandpa Dong died, a rumor started that the assassination attempt on me at the Mirage Tower back then was orchestrated by Little Grandpa Dong himself."

Ning Yao smiled. "I don't believe it. But if people want to gossip, I can't stop them."

Chen Ping'an asked, "Without considering the truth, does hearing these things hurt?"

Ning Yao shook her head. "Nothing to be sad about."

Chen Ping'an nodded. "Good. Otherwise, aside from going to the city wall to practice swords, I'd stop going out."

Ning Yao asked in confusion, "Besides the assassination attempt on that girl Lü Duan, is something else going to happen?"

Chen Ping'an smiled. "Definitely. Someone wants to test my quality while isolating the Ning Mansion as much as possible. In the end, they want to distract you and delay your realm advancement. They didn't have a chance before. After the Mirage Tower incident and the Dong Guanpu affair, which provoked the Oldest Sword Immortal to personally draw his sword, no one dared to openly provoke the Ning Mansion. Now that I'm here, they have an entry point."

Ning Yao asked, "Why don't you seem annoyed by any of this? I do get annoyed, but I know getting annoyed is useless, so I don't bother, I don't even think about it."

Chen Ping'an reached for the wine jug. Ning Yao instinctively started to hand it over, but then quickly glared at him.

Chen Ping'an, unable to get the wine, tucked his hands back into his sleeves. "An outsider's quality, Chen Ping'an, is measured by two things: cultivation and human relations. The strength of a pure martial artist's fists has already been proven by Ren Yi, Pu Yu, Qi Shou, and Pang Yuanji. As for human relations, one part lies in the high places, one in the low places. If the other side is good at scheming, they'll probe both. For example, if Guo Zhujiu had been assassinated, the Ning Mansion and the Guo family, ruled by Sword Immortal Guo Jia, would have become completely estranged. It wouldn't matter how righteous Sword Immortal Guo Jia is—the entire Guo family would have a thorn in their hearts. Of course, since the girl is fine, things are different now. As for the low places, how do you test them? Simple. If a child from the alleys dies, the tavern business at Stacked Peaks will quickly go under. I won't go there to be a storyteller either, and even if I did, no one would listen to my tales of mountains and rivers. Killing Guo Zhujiu requires paying a considerable price, but killing a street child—who cares? But if I don't care, how will the many sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall see me, Chen Ping'an? If I do care, how should I show it?"

Ning Yao listened with a furrowed brow.

Listen—White Steward was wrong. This guy clearly had thought of everything.

Chen Ping'an laughed. "Why worry? I've already thought of everything, so their chances are smaller. But there are some things you can only wait for them to make a move, even if you see them coming."

Ning Yao asked, "Like what?"

"Like loudly proclaiming that I am a disciple of the Sage of Wen and Zuo You's junior apprentice brother. That's just scratching the surface. The sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall still value genuine cultivation more."

Chen Ping'an continued, "Or like a certain young sword cultivator with no background, getting drunk in front of me and rambling about old Ning Mansion affairs. The rhetoric probably won't be too extreme, or it would lack justification and only provoke public outrage. Even the other drinking guests might help me throw him out. So the other side will have to carefully craft their words, controlling the heat just right. Enough to anger me into striking, without it looking like they're stirring trouble—just a heartfelt, righteous outburst. In the end, whether I punch him to death or not, it's a losing deal. Youthful impatience doesn't last, and too much scheming isn't the way of a sword cultivator."

Ning Yao thought for a moment. "Then should we go to the Stacked Peaks tavern less often? If you only go between the city wall and the Ning Mansion, no one will deliberately obstruct you. That would be too obvious. There are many sword cultivators on the Great Wall, not many fools."

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "We have to go."

Ning Yao was a bit puzzled.

"A bookkeeper likes to work the abacus, but he also has his own life to live. He doesn't sit behind the counter all day calculating gains and losses. Who am I? I've been used to having nothing for so many years—how many years has it been? Why would I be afraid of this?"

Chen Ping'an stood up, gazing at the training ground, and said slowly, "You've listened to all those vile words for so many years. I want to hear them for myself. You never bothered to respond before, and that's fine. But now that I'm by your side, if anyone dares to come with ill intentions, and I don't just throw a punch, what, should I invite them for a drink?"

At this, Chen Ping'an laughed. "It'll definitely just be a casual punch. Because the opponent can't be of high realm—lower than Ren Yi for sure. If they were higher, no one would sympathize."

Ning Yao asked, "When are we going to the shop?"

This was Ning Yao's temperament.

Chen Ping'an wasn't surprised at all.

Back in the small town, even leaving aside feelings, Ning Yao's way of doing things had greatly influenced Chen Ping'an.

One of those things was the phrase "The Great Dao should not be so narrow." After that, when Chen Ping'an left Lizhu Cave Heaven and looked upon mountain cultivation, he never truly looked up to the mountain immortals.

And Ning Yao's decisive and straightforward manner, especially her attitude of "Since it's come to this, what needs to be done?"—Chen Ping'an remembered that deeply.

With that clear and lucid mindset, he could truly face countless unexpected troubles without fear. When everything comes at you, you just solve it.

Chen Ping'an turned his head and smiled. "Let me heal my wounds first. In the meantime, I'll let them scheme to their heart's content. Honestly, a lot of the time, I worry for my enemies. I almost want to personally teach them how to make the best move, to maximize their gains and be as disgusting as possible."

Ning Yao said nothing.

Chen Ping'an sat beside her and said softly, "Don't think I've become a stranger. I've always been like this. But as I told you before, there's only one thing I never overthink. That's not a sweet-sounding thing to say, just the truth."

Ning Yao whispered, "If you didn't like me, if you hadn't come here, there would be none of this. You could have lived better. You could have waited until you became a sword immortal, then come find me. I would have waited for you."

White Steward was right. She had to be Ning Yao and trust Chen Ping'an. If she had anything on her mind, she should tell him, one thing at a time. It didn't matter if it made sense or not—he was the most reasonable person in the world. So there was no need to worry about them having nothing to talk about.

But Chen Ping'an didn't say anything to Ning Yao. Instead, he took out the small Dragon-Slaying Platform she had given him when they parted at the Hanging Mountain. On the front and back were engraved "Ning Yao" and "Tian Zhen." Chen Ping'an lowered his head to look at the name "Ning Yao," curved his two fingers together, and tapped lightly on the name while widening his eyes and scolding, "Who do you think you are? So bold, and so capable? You're breaking my heart! If you keep being so unreasonable, I'll pretend to ignore you from now on..."

Ning Yao turned sideways, leaning on the railing, her eyes narrowed in a smile, her lashes trembling.

The bright moonlight painted her eyebrows.

----

That day, the tavern's second manager, who hadn't shown his face in a long time, finally appeared for a drink. He didn't compete with the guests for seats but crouched to the side drinking with some familiar sword cultivators, a wine bowl in one hand and chopsticks in the other, a small dish of pickled vegetables from the Yan family shop placed on the ground in front of him. Everyone did the same—nothing shameful about it. According to the second manager, a true man, a sword immortal, stands tall and unbowed. What's wrong with putting a dish on the ground? This is what they called a sword cultivator's approachability, a sword immortal's disregard for petty formalities. Try going to some expensive restaurant where the wine costs a fortune. Would you have such an opportunity? Try putting your bowl and dish on the ground! Even if the waiter didn't stop you, even if the other patrons said nothing, you'd definitely get some dirty looks, wouldn't you? But here, such unpleasantness? Absolutely not.

The sword cultivators who came to buy and drink—especially those cash-strapped drunkards—found this extremely reasonable.

No sword immortals had come to drink yet today. Chen Ping'an took small sips of wine, chatting and laughing with familiar sword cultivators on either side.

Suddenly, a young man with an unfamiliar face, drunk, stood up, holding his wine bowl as he staggered over to Chen Ping'an. He hiccupped and said with bleary eyes, "So you're the Ning Mansion's son-in-law, Chen Ping'an?"

Chen Ping'an nodded with a smile.

The man was about to speak, but Chen Ping'an raised his hand and lightly clicked his chopsticks together. Diezhang, with a stern face, ran into the shop and came out with a piece of paper.

Ignoring this, the man continued, "Are you worthy of Ning Yao? I don't think so. You may have beaten Pang Yuanji and the other three, but you're still not worthy of Ning Yao. But you're lucky—you're worthy of the Ning Mansion. Know why?"

Chen Ping'an picked up a piece of pickled vegetable with his chopsticks, then raised his wine jug and pointed behind himself.

Diezhang unfurled the paper, on which was written a single sentence: "Anyone who speaks to me today about Ning Mansion affairs shall drink a penalty wine, no charge."

At this, the dozens of drinkers in the tavern all held their breath. Some stopped drinking and eating; others were a bit slower but still continued to pick at their dishes.

The man ignored it all, took a big gulp of wine, spilling a good amount from his white bowl, his eyes bloodshot. He said angrily, "The Sword Qi Great Wall almost fell. The Hidden Official himself led the vanguard, and the enemy great demons avoided battle. After that, life and death, we won everything. A string of victories, just one battle away—just one! Those most capable demonic beasts of the Barren Wastelands would have been left helpless. But your Ning Mansion's two immortal couples, those great sword immortals—oh, they were just too generous! Whenever those bastards lacked something, the two Ning Mansion great sword immortals would team up to give it to them... The demon tribes of the Barren Wastelands have no shame; even after losing, they still attack the city. But we, the Sword Qi Great Wall, have dignity! If we hadn't won that last battle, you, Chen Ping'an, wouldn't be here, showing off your damn prestige! Hah! Disciple of the Sage of Wen, Zuo You's junior apprentice brother, right? Do you know why, in recent years, the Sword Venerating Pavilion at the Hanging Mountain refused to hang portraits of those two sword immortals? You're the Ning Mansion's son-in-law, one of the proud sons of heaven. So you tell me!"

Chen Ping'an took a sip of wine and gently placed his chopsticks on the dish.

Diezhang threw away the first paper, took out another from her sleeve, and snapped it open. "Anyone who speaks of Ning Yao's parents shall take a punch from me. Begging for mercy is useless."

The man glanced sideways and laughed loudly. "As expected of a scholar from the Sage of Wen's lineage! So learned, you even guessed this! What, are you going to punch me to death?"

The man raised his arm and smashed his wine bowl to pieces. "Drinking your Ning Mansion's wine—it makes me sick!"

Chen Ping'an slowly stood up, still holding his white bowl, which was mostly full of wine.

The young man stuck out his neck and pointed at his own head. "Come on, hit me right here. Show me what you've got."

He sneered, "You don't know when you came to the Sword Qi Great Wall twice, both times between great battles, do you? Was that also conveniently foreseen by the Sage of Wen's disciple? It's all skill, right? You won four fights, and now you're going to beat me, a Sea Observation realm sword cultivator, to death. That's still skill, isn't it? You go to the city wall to make a show, practicing your fists. It's not that Chen Ping'an doesn't want to kill demons—it's that the demons are afraid of Chen Ping'an and don't dare attack, right? I think your skill is about to surpass all the sword immortals combined. What do you say, Chen Ping'an?!"

Chen Ping'an glanced at the broken pieces of the white bowl on the ground.

The young sword cultivator widened his eyes. "I'll pay for the wine! I've been to the city wall once, to the south once! I didn't earn much, but I've got enough to buy a few bowls of your lousy wine!"

He was about to reach into his sleeve to pull out Spirit Coins when he heard the man in the blue shirt say, "You don't need to pay for this bowl of wine."

The Sea Observation realm sword cultivator laughed heartily, certain that the man wouldn't dare throw a punch, and prepared to say a few more words.

But in an instant.

The young sword cultivator's head was struck by a single punch.

It sent him spinning head over heels, head to the ground, feet in the air. He died on the spot, limp and lifeless. Not only that, his soul was shattered, utterly and completely dead.

Chen Ping'an held the bowl in his left hand and pointed at the corpse with his right, smiling. "On behalf of the demon race, you owe me the price of a bowl of wine. In the next southern battle, the Barren Wastelands will repay Chen Ping'an!"

He raised the wine bowl high, looking around, and laughed loudly. "A small cup, a large bowl, a few ounces of wine—drink up all the filth of this world! All you future sword immortals, before you head south to the city wall, who is willing to drink with me, Chen Ping'an?!"

Among the seated drinkers and the crouching sword cultivators, one stood up first, and then everyone stood.

All rose with cups and bowls full of wine.

Chen Ping'an looked far into the distance and declared, "On this Sword Qi Great Wall of ours! Let even sword immortals who only regret not killing enough enemies drink!"

On this day, up and down the Sword Qi Great Wall, sword cultivators and sword immortals who drank wine were especially numerous.