Chapter 586: Drinking Down the World's Filth

Chapter 586: Drinking Down the World's Filth

Ten days had passed since the last incident when Chen Ping'an came to the tavern again to drink. Around the New Year, the Sword Qi Great Wall did not have the strong festive atmosphere of the Haoran World.

As the head shopkeeper, Diezhang's reputation had grown greatly, thanks to the second shopkeeper. She had also learned a fair bit of business wisdom from Chen Ping'an, and had become increasingly adept at welcoming guests and seeing them off. To put it simply, she had learned to cast aside her pride.

If someone asked, "Head shopkeeper, are you treating today? You've earned so many spirit coins from us, you ought to treat at least once, right?"

Diezhang would reply, "You sword immortals, spending money to drink, and drawing swords to kill demons—why need others to do it for you?"

All the tables would erupt in jeers, but Diezhang didn't care anymore.

After greeting Diezhang and a few familiar drinkers, Chen Ping'an picked up a small stool and went to sit at the corner of the street. But today no one had come to hear the storyteller spin his tales of mountains and rivers. Many boys and girls saw that figure in blue robes and, after hesitating, chose to take another route.

Except for that brat who always carried a clay pot—his parents had locked him at home. Zhang Jiazhen was off working as a hired hand elsewhere. The rest didn't dare come.

It wasn't necessarily that they thought Chen Ping'an was a bad person, but that man had, after all, killed someone in the tavern. Some children or their elders had witnessed it with their own eyes.

This was only human nature. Chen Ping'an wasn't surprised, let alone disappointed. He sat for a while, basking in the warm sun of late winter, cracking sunflower seeds. Then he picked up his stool and returned to the tavern. He didn't help out, just sat at the counter, fiddling with the abacus and checking the accounts. Diezhang, in the gaps between serving guests, came over to the counter, hesitated, and said, "Business hasn't suffered."

Chen Ping'an closed the account book, spread his palm, and lightly brushed it over the abacus. Looking up with a smile, he asked, "Have you been wanting to ask me all along whether that man really was a demon spy? Regardless of the truth, as a friend of Ning Yao and Chen Ping'an, do you want me to give you a clear answer?"

Diezhang didn't hesitate. She shook her head. "I don't want to ask that. I already have an answer in my heart."

Chen Ping'an deftly tapped the abacus, speaking slowly. "When the two sides are vastly mismatched, or when the opponent's schemes are deep, losing makes you submit—even if you don't say it aloud, you know it in your heart. I've lost like that before, more than once, and badly. But I've learned a lot from reviewing those losses afterward. What I fear most are those tactics you can see through at a glance, yet they can still disgust you thoroughly. The other side doesn't even care about gaining much; they're just playing with you."

Chen Ping'an still had one sentence unsaid. Because the Barbaric World would soon launch a full-scale attack on the city. If not in the next battle, then not too far off. So some insignificant minor chess pieces within this city could be squandered wantonly.

This was also a warning to certain key hidden pieces buried deeper.

Chen Ping'an glanced at the door of the tavern. "There's someone behind the scenes building momentum. If I let my guard down, thinking that the intrigues at the Sword Qi Great Wall are completely beneath those of the Haoran World, then I'm doomed to die or be wounded, and I'll drag the people around me down as well. The planner hidden behind the scenes is prescribing the right medicine. They saw that I prioritize avoiding mistakes, so they deliberately let me win small victories step by step."

Diezhang smiled. "Small victories? Pang Yuanji and Qi Shou would be cursing up a storm if they heard that. Leave Qi Shou aside—Pang Yuanji definitely won't come drink here again. He won't even buy the cheapest wine."

Chen Ping'an laughed. "That was a small victory. Pang Yuanji and Qi Shou know it. The observing sword immortals know it. All who should know, know it. Because I'm not a true sword cultivator, and I'm not a native of the Sword Qi Great Wall. The words that man said earlier, while deliberately disgusting, hit the mark on many points. It's just that without surprises, it's hard to beat me with mere words. I won my two fights against Qi Shou and Pang Yuanji precisely because I had more 'surprises'."

Diezhang sighed. "Chen Ping'an, do you know? You're terrifying."

It was like two people playing a game of Go, where one side correctly guesses every move the other places. How would the other feel?

Some things had already happened, but there were other things that even Chen Sanqiu, Fatty Yan, and the others didn't know. For instance, when Chen Ping'an wrote and asked Diezhang to help him get paper, he had joked that this time his strategy of waiting for his prey was aimed at someone young, not high in realm, but who had definitely been to the southern battlefield. Thus, more ordinary sword cultivators at the Sword Qi Great Wall could "empathize," feel compassion, and share a common hatred of the enemy. Perhaps this person, in his hometown market at the Great Wall, had a sterling reputation as an "ordinary person," regularly helping the elderly, children, and widows in the neighborhood. After his death, the manipulator behind the scenes wouldn't need to fan the flames; they could just watch from the sidelines. Otherwise, it would be too disrespectful to the patrol sword immortals of the Sword Qi Great Wall. Naturally, a wave of public opinion would rise from the grassroots—from alleyways, taverns of all sizes, various shops—gradually spreading to the mansions of the powerful and into the ears of many sword immortals. Some would ignore it; others would keep it in mind. But Chen Ping'an had also said then that this was just the worst-case scenario, and it might not actually happen that way. Besides, the situation couldn't get much worse. It was just a small game the manipulator was testing.

At this moment, Diezhang had been worried that Chen Ping'an would be angry. But to her surprise, his smile remained, and it wasn't forced—as if this line of thought was also within his expectations.

This was the second time Chen Ping'an had heard a similar remark.

"To say that to my face means you truly consider me a friend."

Chen Ping'an nodded. "My enemies should feel that way."

Diezhang said, "With you by Ning Yao's side, I feel a bit more at ease."

Chen Ping'an smiled. "After the next southern battle, if you're still willing to say that, I'll also be much more at ease."

Diezhang's expression suddenly grew solemn.

Chen Ping'an nodded, speaking softly. "Right, that's also what the manipulator intended. First, to determine whether Chen Ping'an, the newcomer, the disciple of the Literary Sage, the son-in-law of the Ning family, would actually set foot on the city wall and fight alongside the sword cultivators. Second, whether he would dare to leave the city for the southern battlefield to kill demons. Third, after leaving the city wall, between preserving his own life and fighting with all his might, what choice would he make? Would he prioritize survival first, then worry about other things, or would he seek honor, for himself and for the Ning family, even at the cost of death, to prove himself? Of course, the best outcome for them would be for Chen Ping'an to die heroically on the southern battlefield. If the manipulator was in a good mood, they might have someone say a few good words for me afterward."

Chen Ping'an teased, "You've kept that chair my master once sat on as a family heirloom, stored away in the side room of your little house. So did you think the stools on either side of the Literary Sage were for just anyone to sit on?"

Diezhang felt heavy-hearted. She picked up a jar of wine, broke the seal, and poured two bowls. She took a big gulp herself, morose and silent.

Chen Ping'an raised his wine bowl, took a sip, and said with a laugh, "Drink less. Even though we're the shopkeepers, we still have to pay for our drinks."

Diezhang held her wine bowl, wanting to speak but hesitating.

Chen Ping'an asked, "Another question? Just ask."

Diezhang asked softly, "That person who first raised his bowl and stood up back then—was he a plant?"

Chen Ping'an laughed heartily, waving his hand. "No."

Then Chen Ping'an pointed at Diezhang. "Head shopkeeper, just be a businesswoman, alright? You're really not suited for these schemes of reading people's hearts. If I had done that, wouldn't I be treating all the sword cultivators at the Sword Qi Great Wall, especially those sword immortals sitting on the sidelines, as fools who only know swordsmanship and nothing of human nature? Some things, while seemingly perfect and most profitable, absolutely cannot be done. Too deliberate, and it backfires. For example, from the start, I only aimed not to lose. Killing that man already meant I didn't lose. If I were insatiable and added something extraneous, I'd just earn everyone's contempt."

Diezhang let out a heavy sigh, her expression complex. Raising her wine bowl, she imitated Chen Ping'an's words, "Drinking down the filthy affairs of the world!"

Chen Ping'an raised his wine bowl with a smile, clinking it against hers. "Thank you, head shopkeeper, for treating me to a drink."

---

West of the city stood a winter retreat palace for the Hidden Official. To the east, there was also a summer retreat palace. Both were small but had cost a fortune.

Today, in the main hall of the winter retreat palace, the Hidden Official stood on a finely crafted rosewood armchair—a celestial artifact from the Liuxia Continent in the Haoran World. The red wood had water-like grain and flowing clouds.

In the hall were also two native sword immortals who assisted the Hidden Official lineage: a man named Zhu An and a woman named Luo Shan, both old Jade Purity realm cultivators.

Besides them, there was a Nascent Soul cultivator responsible for intelligence gathering, who was reporting in meticulous detail the entire tavern incident. He had traced the young Ocean Observing realm sword cultivator Huang Zhou's ancestry back eighteen generations—his teachers, friends and relatives, acquainted earthly immortal elders, and so on—reporting everything in detail to the sword immortal Zhu An. As for the Hidden Official, she had never been interested in such things.

Additionally, Pang Yuanji was present, along with a Confucian gentleman named Wang Zai, who had some connections with the previous Confucian sage stationed at the Sword Qi Great Wall.

The Hidden Official had her eyes closed, pacing back and forth on the chair, swaying her body, twisting her two horn-shaped braids with her hands, as if sleepwalking.

Sword immortal Zhu An listened to his subordinate's report while flipping through the intelligence document in his hand. Because it had to be precise, the text was long, so the Hidden Official never touched these things.

Female sword immortal Luo Shan wore a round-collared brocade robe with an extremely bright red flower in her hair, particularly eye-catching.

Regarding intelligence matters, the gentleman Wang Zai was similar to a censor in the court of the Haoran world—he had no authority to handle specific affairs but barely had the right to offer advice.

As the Hidden Official put it, they had to give these outsiders, who held an "imperial sword," a little chance to speak. As for whether they listened or not, that depended on her mood.

After hearing the intelligence report, Wang Zai asked, "Since there is no conclusive evidence that Huang Zhou was a demon spy, is Chen Ping'an guilty of wanton killing? Even if he were a demon spy, he should have been handed over to us for disposal. If he wasn't, and this was just a conflict between young hotheads, then isn't this a case of treating human life as grass?"

Pang Yuanji frowned but said nothing, just lowered his head and drank.

As the Hidden Official's only direct disciple, Pang Yuanji's words often carried more weight than even the senior sword immortals Zhu An and Luo Shan. But Pang Yuanji didn't like to meddle in these murky affairs and had always focused on cultivation.

Luo Shan said coolly, "Evil people need to be ground down by even eviler people until they regret being evil. At the Sword Qi Great Wall, there's no need to mince words. A lower-five-realm sword cultivator can curse Dong San'geng without issue, as long as Dong San'geng doesn't care. But if Dong San'geng does strike, then death is death. That Chen Ping'an was clearly waiting for someone to come looking for trouble. If Huang Zhou had been sensible, he should have quit while he was ahead after seeing the first piece of paper. Whether he was a demon spy or not, does it really matter? He was stupid enough to get himself killed, so don't blame the other party for being too heavy-handed. As for Chen Ping'an, does he really think he's a sword cultivator of the Sword Qi Great Wall? Arrogant talk! In the next southern battle, I'll have someone specifically record Chen Ping'an's demon-slaying record."

Zhu An said sternly, "On this matter, Luo Shan, say less."

The female sword immortal Luo Shan had some old grudges with Ning Yao's parents, which had turned unpleasant early on.

As for Luo Shan's words, they were hardly a defense of Chen Ping'an. At best, she was giving fifty lashes to each side, but half of those lashes landed on the corpse.

Wang Zai had been at the Sword Qi Great Wall for seven or eight years and had participated in one major battle, though he hadn't fought much. He had served more as a supervisor and battle scribe. The Hidden Official had said that since he was a gentleman, well-read and tender-skinned, he shouldn't go around fighting. Wang Zai had been furious at the time and had complained to the Confucian sage, but to no avail.

Luo Shan sneered, "Then what does Sword Immortal Zhu An suggest? Should we summon Chen Ping'an for questioning? The Literary Sage's disciple, with a senior brother whose swordsmanship is like a god, watching from the city wall?"

Zhu An's face darkened.

According to the rules, of course they should question him.

But that young man was too savvy in dealing with people. His words and actions were flawless, and on top of that, his backing was too strong.

Wang Zai said, "The Literary Sage is no longer the Literary Sage. Besides, Chen Ping'an is a Confucian student. His actions should be even more in line with the rules. He can't just kill people on a whim. Even if that old gentleman, who no longer has a shrine in the Confucian Temple, were present, I would still say the same. If the two sword immortals find it inconvenient to act, let this junior go and question Chen Ping'an."

Zhu An asked, "Where would the questioning take place—here or at the Ning residence?"

Wang Zai caught the sword immortal's implication and compromised, "I can go to his door and visit him. That way, it won't make Chen Ping'an feel too humiliated."

Luo Shan curled her lip. "That's good. Otherwise, I was afraid that before Chen Ping'an could set foot in the palace, the great sword immortal Zuo You would be right on his heels."

Pang Yuanji sighed, put away his wine flask, and said with a smile, "Whether Huang Zhou was a demon spy, ordinary sword cultivators may have their doubts, but do we really not know?"

Wang Zai said, "I'm just speaking on the merits. Huang Zhou, from Dayu Ling Lane in the Sword Qi Great Wall, had an impeccable reputation. I've already carefully reviewed his battle records. He deserves the commendation of 'giving his all'. If I may be blunt, sword cultivators like Huang Zhou, though not high in realm and not having killed many enemies, are the very foundation of the Sword Qi Great Wall. If this matter is brushed aside without even a pretense of procedure, I dare say it will chill the hearts of many ordinary sword cultivators. Clear rewards and punishments are ironclad laws at the Sword Qi Great Wall. What, just because he's a disciple of a sage and the junior brother of a great sword immortal, he's beyond scrutiny?"

At this point, Wang Zai's expression was firm. As he looked at the two sword immortals Zhu An and Luo Shan, the Confucian gentleman exuded an aura of determination, as if he would go forward even against a million foes.

The Hidden Official opened her eyes. Standing on the edge of the chair, she swayed back and forth like a roly-poly toy. She didn't even look at the scholar. Lazily, she said, "If there were ten thousand scumbags like Huang Zhou in this city, and I only killed nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine, the great old sword immortal would scold me for dereliction of duty. He'd fine me how many more years of not drinking?"

As soon as she spoke, Zhu An and Luo Shan both immediately stood up.

That Nascent Soul sword cultivator looked solemn, listening as if receiving an imperial edict.

The Hidden Official stretched out her hand and yawned. "Have your brains been damaged by consecutive battles? If so, eat more, drink more water. Don't always be practicing swordsmanship, practicing swordsmanship, practicing swordsmanship. It's easy to ruin your brain. It's fine for you, but for certain people who've ruined their brains by reading books—I can't save them."

Gentleman Wang Zai's expression remained unchanged.

The Hidden Official nodded to herself. "I've never liked that Chen Ping'an, but right now, in comparison, he looks a lot more pleasing. Sigh, why is that? Why?"

She pointed at Luo Shan. "You, tell me."

Luo Shan smiled. "The moonlight is beautiful tonight."

The Hidden Official nodded. "Makes sense."

Wang Zai stood still.

The Hidden Official was somewhat impressed by these scholars' thick skin. She shot a look at Zhu An, who immediately found an excuse and led Wang Zai out of the meeting hall.

Luo Shan also left with the Nascent Soul cultivator.

Only the master and disciple remained.

Pang Yuanji smiled. "Master, does the Mencius lineage hold such a grudge against the Literary Sage lineage?"

The Hidden Official beckoned. Pang Yuanji walked over to the armchair, only to have the Hidden Official grab his ear and twist it hard. "Yuanji, you're the one whose brain is most damaged from practicing swordsmanship!"

Pang Yuanji wasn't overly formal with his master. He freed himself from her little hand, rubbed his cheek, and said helplessly, "Master, please enlighten me."

The Hidden Official rolled her eyes. "How did I end up with such a foolish disciple? Do you really think that Wang Zai was targeting Chen Ping'an? He was trying to rope us in to clear Chen Ping'an's name. Such a simple thing, and you can't see it? I just won't let him have his way. That Chen Ping'an is a shrewd man anyway; he doesn't care about any of this."

Pang Yuanji thought it over, then nodded, but also felt a flash of anger. That Wang Zai actually dared to scheme against his master?

The Hidden Official waved her hand. "That's nothing. It's obvious that Wang Zai suspects the Dong family, and he also suspects us. In fact, besides Chen Qingdu and the three seated sages, Wang Zai suspects all the major clans of being potentially compromised—including this Secluded Official. You think the Confucian sage I beat was some pushover? Would he have stuffed a fool into the Sword Qi Great Wall after slinking away in disgrace, just to lose face again?"

Pang Yuanji smiled bitterly. "These matters are not my strong suit."

The Hidden Official waved her hands around randomly, as if forming sword gestures. "What do you need to be good at that for? You're the heir apparent to the Secluded Official position. You just need to swing your sword—whoosh whoosh, slash slash—and be able to cut people down. That's good enough."

Pang Yuanji said, "But master, you're very good at it."

She said, "I'm your master."

Pang Yuanji nodded. "Makes sense."

The Hidden Official stomped her foot. "Shameless! Copying my lines? Pay up! Or trade it for wine!"

Pang Yuanji tossed over a flask of Bamboo Sea Cave Heaven wine. The Hidden Official stored it away in her sleeve universe. Moving like an ant, she secretly saved up her stash. She wasn't allowed to drink right now, but at least she could hoard wine.

---

Around the New Year, Ning Yao asked Chen Ping'an why he didn't prepare couplets or door gods. Back when they were in the small town of Lizhu Cave Heaven, Ning Yao had gone door to door, and she found it quite festive, feeling a bit nostalgic.

Chen Ping'an asked with a smile, "Does the Sword Qi Great Wall even sell those things?" Ning Yao said he could write and draw them himself.

Chen Ping'an said that when in Rome, do as the Romans do—there was no need to be so particular.

Ning Yao was a bit annoyed. Why care what they thought?

Chen Ping'an said they had to care.

Ning Yao got genuinely angry. So Chen Ping'an explained the reasons in detail, finally saying there was no hurry. He would be staying at the Sword Qi Great Wall for a long time. Maybe he'd even have a chance to go into the couplet and door god business in the future, just as the taverns in the city had gotten used to hanging couplets.

Only then did Ning Yao let it go.

After his injuries healed, Chen Ping'an went to the city wall again to train swordsmanship with his senior brother Zuo You.

This time, he was smarter. He brought a porcelain bottle of ointment, planning to treat his wounds right there on the wall, so it wouldn't be too shocking—after all, it was the New Year. But man proposes, god disposes. Late that night, Ning Yao finished her cultivation at the Dragon-Slaying Platform pavilion and waited in vain for him to return. So she went to the city wall and found Chen Ping'an lying ten paces away from Zuo You, propped up and bandaging himself. Judging by the look of it, he had been seriously injured before that. Otherwise, with Chen Ping'an's habit of pushing his body to near-death, he would have long since been fine and piloted his talisman boat back to the Ning residence.

Ning Yao sat down beside Chen Ping'an, turned her head, and glared at Zuo You. "It's New Year's!"

Zuo You held his tongue for a long time, then nodded. "I'll be more careful in the future."

Chen Ping'an secretly chuckled.

Finally, Zuo You said, "There was once a wise man by the river who posed one hundred and seventy-three questions for posterity. Later, a scholar in his study answered those one hundred and seventy-three questions. You might want to look into that."

Chen Ping'an agreed. He could ask Chen Sanqiu to help buy the books—that guy loved collecting them himself.

Chen Ping'an took out his talisman boat, and Ning Yao piloted them back to the Ning residence.

At the Sword Qi Great Wall, not every household had a New Year's Eve dinner. At the Ning residence, Chen Ping'an cooked that day himself, letting Old Madam Bai take a rest, and made a lavish meal.

Friends have their own friends.

Except for Dong Huafu, who was rather aloof and had no peers he could talk to, Yan Zhuo had his own circle, and Chen Sanqiu, with his wide network of friends, had even more.

During the first month of the new year, one day Chen Sanqiu brought three good friends to drink at Diezhang's tavern.

The four of them shared a table. One of them, a young man from a prominent family named Fan Dache, was dead drunk, feeling like he was dying. He had even cried out tears and snot. Chen Sanqiu was helpless. The other two, a young man and a woman from similar backgrounds, were also at a loss. Moreover, the pair were Dao partners, so on that day at the table, it was even harder for them to say much. Because the woman Fan Dache had his heart set on was from a lower social standing. Fan Dache came from a well-off family, yet she had dumped him and chosen another young man from a prominent family. They were even talking about marriage. This matter had caught Chen Sanqiu and his other good friends off guard. None of them could figure out why this Ocean Observing realm woman named Yu Qia would abandon Fan Dache and throw herself into someone else's arms.

Fan Dache himself understood even less, so he drank himself into a stupor, muttering drunken nonsense.

When he saw Chen Ping'an, Fan Dache shouted loudly, "Oh, isn't this our second shopkeeper? Rare to see you! Come over for a drink, drink!"

Chen Ping'an had come alone to check accounts with Diezhang. He gave Chen Sanqiu a look, signaling him to save him from the situation. Chen Ping'an was a bit resigned. He had only met Fan Dache and Yu Qia twice, and didn't really know them. What was there to talk about? So he sat down on the bench beside Chen Sanqiu. He had just brought two jars of wine. He opened one and drank silently. Fan Dache was drunk, wallowing in his own grief. His eyes were blurry from drink and tears. It seemed his heart was truly broken.

The most pitiful part was that he had drunk so much but hadn't managed to get drunk enough to forget his sorrow.

Sometimes, drowning your sorrows in drink only pours salt on the wound. The more your heart aches, the more you drink, hoping to kill your heart entirely—who cares if it hurts to death.

Chen Sanqiu didn't really expect Chen Ping'an to say anything; he just wanted to have another person drinking with them.

As Chen Ping'an listened, he roughly gathered the story. But since their relationship was shallow, Chen Ping'an didn't want to offer much comment.

He had taken some notice of that woman Yu Qia, who made Fan Dache so heartbroken that even after all this drink, he couldn't bring himself to say a single harsh word about her. Yu Qia was a woman who never got drunk when she drank. She had a good temperament. Though her background wasn't great, she possessed a bookish air rare among women at the Sword Qi Great Wall, along with a touch of boldness. The reason Chen Ping'an had noticed her was because of a gesture she made that left an impression on him. At the time, Chen Sanqiu, Fan Dache, and the others were seated around a table when they happened to run into a sword immortal whom Yu Qia knew. She got up to toast him, and naturally extended her hand to touch his arm. The movement was very restrained. Even Chen Ping'an didn't think it was rude. The male sword immortal naturally had no improper thoughts either. But Chen Ping'an remembered it clearly because in the various taverns and banquets of the Haoran World, he had seen similar women. They were elegant in manner, composed in speech, and quite appealing to men. This wasn't to say Yu Qia was flirtatious. On the contrary, it was just a kind of social interaction that observed strict propriety.

Whether Chen Ping'an accepted it or not, he understood it. Life was a path of cultivation, and everyone had their own way of getting by.

Many words and actions, many unnoticed daily efforts, were like talismans of protection that people quietly swapped for themselves.

But Fan Dache clearly didn't understand. He had probably never even paid attention. In his mind, the woman he admired had always been so sensible.

In the end, Fan Dache liked her—he was devoted to her, no doubt about that—but he might not have truly understood her preferences or the difficulties she faced in life.

Furthermore, from Fan Dache's words, when he heard that Yu Qia wanted to break up, he was completely stunned. He asked her if he had done something wrong; he could change.

But Yu Qia was very adamant. She just said they weren't suitable. So among Fan Dache's many drunken ramblings today was the line: "How are we not suitable? How did you only just now realize we're not suitable?"

Fan Dache suddenly shouted, "Chen Ping'an, you are not allowed to think Yu Qia is a bad woman! Absolutely not!"

Chen Ping'an nodded. "Alright."

Fan Dache raised his white bowl and drank half a bowl. Because he had spilled half, he looked at Chen Ping'an sitting next to Chen Sanqiu, but his eyes were unfocused. His voice trembling, he asked, "Tell me, where did I go wrong? Why did Yu Qia just marry someone else? Is it that in love, the good men always lose? Just because that bastard is better with sweet talk? Better at pleasing women? I bared my heart to her, so how was that inferior? Sure, my family is strict and doesn't give me much spirit money, but whenever there was something she liked, even if I didn't have enough money, I borrowed from Sanqiu to buy it for her!"

Fan Dache paused. "Chen Ping'an, you're an outsider. A bystander sees clearly. Tell me, what the hell did I do wrong?"

Chen Ping'an asked, "Did she know you were borrowing money from Chen Sanqiu?"

Fan Dache was stunned, then said angrily, "How the hell would I know whether she knew! If I knew, Yu Qia would be sitting here next to me right now. What does it matter whether she knew or not? She should be sitting here, drinking with me, drinking together..."

As he spoke, his voice grew weaker, and the young man was left only with sorrow.

Chen Ping'an took a sip of wine, set down his bowl, and asked softly, "Did she know? Does it really not matter?"

Fan Dache's voice suddenly rose. "Chen Ping'an, spare me your sanctimonious crap! You're talking without feeling the pain. You like Ning Yao, and Ning Yao likes you. You two are celestial beings. You don't know what it's like to worry about daily necessities!"

Chen Sanqiu was about to remind Fan Dache to stop talking nonsense, but Chen Ping'an gently pressed his hand on his arm and shook his head, indicating it was fine.

Chen Ping'an didn't say any more. He just drank in silence.

But Fan Dache seemed to have found a way to relieve his sorrow. He started targeting Chen Ping'an, saying a lot of nonsense, though fortunately it was all about love and romance.

Chen Sanqiu's face turned pale. Even Diezhang frowned, thinking about just knocking him unconscious.

Chen Ping'an remained calm throughout. When Fan Dache finally finished his rant—which even he knew was unreasonable—he burst into loud sobs.

Only then did Chen Ping'an speak. "If you didn't do well enough yourself and couldn't keep her, don't make excuses. Don't blame yourself for being a good man. Don't think that being infatuated with a woman is a mistake, or that being gentle is inferior to others' honeyed words and flashy acts. If you have poor judgment, admit it. A lot of people, when they like someone, it's not just about liking the other person. They also like themselves, wallowing in it, loving to the point of death, tears and snot—they're putting on a show for themselves. They don't even know what the person they like—whom they've chosen with blind eyes or just luck—is really thinking. They don't know if that person is even worth such devotion. They just need to move themselves first."

Fan Dache slammed the table. "Shut your mouth!"

Chen Ping'an said calmly, "And when you get hurt afterward, you drink, and you give yourself a few excuses: 'A good man's true heart isn't worth a penny.' You, Fan Dache, were just unlucky. You still have family wealth. Otherwise, you'd have even more excuses, even more heart-wrenching ones. It would seem that if you can't keep a woman, it's because you're poor. And whether or not you need to be responsible for yourself first before you can truly be responsible for a woman—does that need thinking about? I don't think so. 'I'm heartbroken to death—why would I think about whether I'm at fault?' That's how you go on moving yourself."

Fan Dache staggered to his feet, his face twisted, eyes bloodshot. "Surnamed Chen! Want to fight?"

Chen Ping'an waved his hand. "No fighting. I only said these unpleasant words because you're Chen Sanqiu's friend."

Chen Ping'an finished his bowl of wine in one gulp, then poured another and finished that too. "I've said too much. Just take it as drunken rambling. My apologies."

Fan Dache let out a loud laugh. "I can't possibly accept your apology, Chen Ping'an!"

The other two friends of Fan Dache were also resentful toward Chen Ping'an.

Was this any way to console someone? He was just adding fuel to the fire.

Fan Dache stared hard at Chen Ping'an. "How much have you been through? What right do you have to spout such grand principles?"

Chen Sanqiu said to Fan Dache, "Enough! Stop your drunken ranting!"

Fan Dache looked desolate. He staggered, finally managing to grab the table, and choked out, "Sanqiu..."

Chen Sanqiu sighed, stood up, and said, "Alright, let's settle the bill."

Chen Ping'an gave Chen Sanqiu an apologetic look. Chen Sanqiu smiled and nodded.

Chen Ping'an left the table and walked toward Diezhang.

Fan Dache suddenly picked up his wine bowl and hurled it at Chen Ping'an.

Chen Ping'an slowed his steps but didn't turn around. Chen Sanqiu had already circled the table and grabbed Fan Dache. "Fan Dache! Did you drink away your damn brain?"

Diezhang was about to act, but Chen Ping'an, his back to the table, shook his head.

No matter how unreasonable the grief, the grief of a man at his lowest is still real grief.

Fan Dache struggled violently, shouting at the blue-robed back, "Chen Ping'an! Who the hell do you think you are? You don't know Yu Qia at all! If you dare badmouth her, I'll never let it go!"

Chen Ping'an turned his head. "Talk to me after you're sober."

Fan Dache accidentally elbowed Chen Sanqiu in the chest, breaking free. Clenching his fists, eyes red, panting heavily, he said, "You can say what you want about me, but you can't say half a bad word about Yu Qia!"

Chen Ping'an turned around fully. "I'm speaking to you calmly and politely, but it's not because you're in the right. It's because I have been taught manners."

Diezhang looked at Chen Ping'an's back.

At that moment, she felt a bit of fear, like when she saw those lofty sword immortals.

A Liang had once said that the sword cultivator seniors who put their authority on display weren't the ones to be afraid of. The ones you truly had to revere were those who were usually easygoing.

Because so-called personality edges weren't like pebbles that slip into your shoes, rubbing you raw with every step. They were like the smooth river stones that seemed easy to handle, but if you bit down on one, you'd really break your teeth.

Chen Sanqiu was furious too. He shoved Fan Dache's shoulder, pushing him a few steps forward. "Go on, fight! Fight all you want! Beat yourself to death or cripple yourself! I'll consider it bad luck for having such a good friend, and I'll still carry you home!"

Fan Dache stopped abruptly, as if a gust of wind had cleared his head. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Unexpectedly, Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "Don't take it to heart. Everyone has their moments when they drink too much. Remember to pay the bill."

Chen Sanqiu felt he might as well have bitten off his tongue. He should never have let Fan Dache call Chen Ping'an over to drink. Now he had to drag Fan Dache home.

If Ning Yao ever found out, he was done for. He might not even be allowed to visit the Ning residence anymore.

Diezhang came up to Chen Ping'an and asked, "Aren't you angry?"

Chen Ping'an crouched down, picking up the shattered pieces of the white bowl. He smiled. "What would I get from being angry? If I got angry about every little thing..."

Diezhang crouched down too, helping clean up the mess, but found the sentence trailing off. She looked at him with curiosity.

Chen Ping'an smiled. "As long as the person's original intention wasn't bad, there's no ugly words in the world. If there are, it means my own cultivation of the heart isn't enough."

Diezhang suppressed a laugh. "And that one you punched to death earlier?"

Chen Ping'an said matter-of-factly, "Not only was that person ill-intentioned, but I also never said my heart cultivation was sufficient."

After cleaning up the shards, Chen Ping'an also cleared the table. Besides the half-jar of wine they hadn't finished, the other jar he had brought was still unopened. But Chen Sanqiu and the others had already paid for everything—very decent of them.

In a good mood, Chen Ping'an poured himself a bowl of wine. He planned to take the remaining jar back to the Ning residence and give it to Senior Nalan.

Head shopkeeper Diezhang pretended not to notice.

Chen Ping'an sat alone at the table, drinking. Another year had passed. Another year had come.

Year after year, cycle after cycle. Peace and safety.