Chapter 591: What If Ning Yao Drew Her Sword?
The group of foreign sword cultivators who had arrived from the Central Continent numbered five in total.
Apart from the wine-carrying youth, who remained perfectly composed, the other three had all retreated slightly, ready to unleash their flying swords at a moment's notice. One of them, a young man just over twenty with a wooden expression, was half a beat slower than his companions in both retreating and channeling qi in preparation to strike. There was also a young girl, elegant and slender, wearing a cross-collared jacket with colorful trim, over which she wore a gauze skirt adorned with a hundred flowers—this was the Yu Xiaoyao style quite popular among female cultivators of the Central Continent. She was the first to reach out and press her hand against the longsword at her waist.
As for the last one, it was the sword-carrying youth whom Chen Ping'an had lifted into the air. He was now being suspended by Chen Ping'an, who had restrained him with fist intent and qi. Several of the youth's key acupoints were blocked, preventing his qi from flowing. He tried to break through the restrictions, to shatter the gate and escape, but each time he was repelled, unable to move at all. Over and over again, his face flushed red, then turned a purplish-blue, like a dead fish hanging on a wall to dry. It was likely that the shame he felt inside was no less than his murderous intent.
Chen Ping'an asked, "He's unwilling to speak. Will you speak for him?"
The wine-carrying youth grinned broadly. "Whatever he said just now, I didn't catch it clearly."
Chen Ping'an smiled and asked, "Are all the descendants of the Second Sage so hard of hearing?"
The young girl snapped angrily, "Chen Ping'an, release Jiang Guancheng right now! Don't think that just because you have a bit of a reputation here at the Sword Qi Great Wall, you can act with impunity! You want to kill someone just because of a disagreement? Disciples of the Literary Sage lineage truly do have worse and worse tempers one after another! First Cui Chan, betraying his master and destroying his own clan, then Zuo You, ruining so many innate sword embryos from the Central Continent! And my... my senior uncle... and you, Chen Ping'an! As a Confucian scholar and a distinguished disciple of the Literary Sage, you're here engaging in a lowly profession, personally selling wine! Such a disgrace to scholarship!"
When she mentioned her senior uncle, the girl clenched her teeth, and tears glistened in her eyes. But when she brought up Chen Ping'an again, she immediately returned to normal, though now filled with indignation and anger.
Chen Ping'an paid her no attention.
This kind of direct accusation, being shouted at to his face, he actually didn't care much about. Besides, it wasn't his teacher being insulted—just his teacher's junior brother and his own senior brothers. As the youngest junior brother of his teacher's lineage, did he need to speak out on behalf of his senior brothers? Should he say a few fair words for the state preceptor Cui Chan? Or stand up for his senior brother Zuo You? Did he need to? Chen Ping'an felt he didn't. One of them wanted to turn a single continent into a nation, to stall the northern advance of the demons and prevent them from swallowing up the three continents of Tongye, Treasure Vase, and Beiju in one fell swoop. The other wanted to become the greatest swordsman outside of the Haoran Heavens. They were both quite busy. And as for him, Chen Ping'an, he was busy too.
Training in martial arts, practicing the sword, refining qi, and studying—he was about to refine his fourth lifebound object. On top of that, he had to earn money, run the betting shop, and carve seals. Could he not be busy?
But the most important thing was that this young girl's words, whether reasonable or not, whether her logic was sound or not, ultimately lacked a truly malicious intent to harm.
That being the case, Chen Ping'an could understand and accept it.
"Zhu Mei, how dare you speak to Mr. Chen like that?"
The youth scolded the girl, then continued speaking to Chen Ping'an with a beaming smile. "Mr. Chen, your seniority is high. As a junior, I am eager to receive your teachings. Whatever Mr. Chen says, I will take it to heart—if I have faults, I will correct them; if I don't, I will strive to do better. Also, Mr. Chen, this Jiang Guancheng in your hand is a direct disciple of the Bitter Summer Sword Immortal. The Bitter Summer Sword Immortal, back in our homeland, is the nephew of one of the Ten... it's quite troublesome. Of course, Mr. Chen, your senior brother, the great sword immortal Zuo You, I have long admired him. Now that the great sword immortal Zuo You is practicing his swordsmanship here at the Sword Qi Great Wall, I imagine there's not much to worry about. Still, all sword immortals under heaven are one family. It wouldn't be good to damage our relations."
Chen Ping'an asked, "Are you a Guanhai realm sword cultivator? The first combatant choice?"
The youth didn't answer the question. Instead, he smiled and asked in return, "Mr. Chen is a native of Treasure Vase Continent. You wouldn't be helping to defend the passes here at the Sword Qi Great Wall, would you?"
The young sword cultivator and Chen Ping'an spoke—one using the refined common language of the Haoran Heavens, the other using the local dialect of the Sword Qi Great Wall.
The youth looked down.
Chen Ping'an gave a gentle shove, sending the tall youth tumbling backward over ten yards. He complained, "Growing so tall, you made me stand on tiptoes for ages."
Then Chen Ping'an looked at this interesting wine-carrying youth. "At such a young age, with such a high cultivation level, roaming around here and talking all sorts of nonsense, aren't you afraid of frightening us timid, low-realm folk to death?"
Chen Sanqiu used the local dialect to explain the conversation to the surrounding drinkers.
Whistles erupted from the tavern, especially from the drunkards and bachelors squatting there drinking. They were very cooperative with the second manager. Damn it, in the past, they'd only thought the second manager was stingy and sly, but compared to these little brats from the Central Continent, he was truly elegant and refined. They'd wronged the second manager in the past. From now on, when they came to drink, maybe they should take less sauce and pickles from the saucers? Besides, even when they managed to get a little advantage out of the second manager by eating his pickled vegetables, they always felt a bit guilty afterward. Eat too much, and you end up drinking more wine.
Chen Ping'an turned his head toward the shop and laughed. "How about I defend the first pass as a fourth-realm cultivator? If you all bet on me losing, I'll be the banker."
The drinkers all raised their middle fingers at him, laughing and cursing without any politeness. Some even directly cheered for those out-of-town sword cultivators, shouting, "Our second manager here—aside from selling wine and writing couplets—is actually useless! If it really comes to a fight, he'll be knocked flat in three punches. What's there to be afraid of? As out-of-town sword cultivators from the Central Continent, you should show some true heroic spirit! That Chen Ping'an is just from a small place like Treasure Vase Continent. Ren Yi, Pu Yu, Qi Shou, and Pang Yuanji—those four bastards were in cahoots as the bankers, deliberately losing to Chen Ping'an! Don't be fools and believe that!"
The young girl named Zhu Mei sneered, "So not only is he a wine-sodden drunkard, but he's also a gambler. Old Master Literary Sage really was blind to take on a final disciple like you!"
Chen Ping'an smiled faintly. "Drinking, gambling, and killing demons—these are indeed trivial matters, all beneath the notice of the cultivators from your Central Continent."
As soon as he said this, Chen Sanqiu and the others on his side erupted in raucous cheers, slapping tables and clinking chopsticks.
Zhu Mei was left speechless.
And deep down, she even felt a flicker of fear, as if she had inexplicably found herself in a strange, small world.
Because although Chen Ping'an was some distance away from the various sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall, it seemed as if this underappreciated youngest disciple of the Literary Sage was resonating from afar with those sword cultivators behind him.
Chen Ping'an laughed. "Do you know where the flaw in my words lies? It's in this: Drinking and gambling are indeed not proper activities for a scholar in the Haoran Heavens. But because I deliberately brought up the matter of killing demons, you were left without a retort. And why? Because you still have a conscience as a sword cultivator from the Central Continent, and you honestly believe that killing demons is a glorious deed. That's why you felt guilty and weak. But you needn't. In the world of reasoning, things must be considered in order. Each matter must be addressed on its own terms, large and small, right and wrong—they cannot be canceled out against each other. For example, if you first admit that killing demons is absolutely right, and has been right for ten thousand years, and then you come to argue with me about how extremely wrong it is for me to be a drunkard and a gambler—do you think I'd accept that? How about this? Is my Literary Sage lineage really as bad-tempered as you think? We're still willing to reason with you!"
The girl stared wide-eyed, her mind a jumble. How could this green-robed drunkard's wild talk actually sound somewhat reasonable?
But she just couldn't help being furious.
Chen Ping'an finally spoke to the wine-carrying youth, who had lost his smile. "Don't worry, I won't be defending the first pass as a fourth-realm qi practitioner. Why? Not because I don't want to teach you a lesson, or teach you how to speak properly, but because I respect that as sword cultivators from the Central Continent, you have been willing to come to the Sword Qi Great Wall and at least personally glimpse the Barren Wasteland Heavens. Outsiders walking the three passes is a public matter. What lies between you and me is a private grievance. We'll settle that later."
Chen Ping'an walked back toward the tavern.
A man who was eating pickled vegetables with furious speed shouted, "Second manager, that was quite impressive! How about treating us to some wine to celebrate?"
Chen Ping'an chuckled. "I beg all you sword immortals to have a little shame! Retract your sword qi, especially you, Ye Chunzhen! Every time you finish a jug of wine, you eat three saucers of my pickled vegetables. You think I don't know? I've been putting up with you for a long time!"
The man picked up the half-saucer of pickles on the ground with two fingers. "Want them back?"
Chen Ping'an was struck speechless.
The man was immensely pleased with himself. Damn it, when he himself lost all shame, even he was afraid of himself. What did he care about the second manager? Besides, wasn't he just learning from the second manager anyway?
Chen Ping'an coughed. He didn't sit down but clapped his hands and announced loudly, "Our shop is a small business. We'd planned to offer, in the near future, besides pickled vegetables, a free bowl of plain noodles with every jug of wine. That was me stretching myself thin to play the generous host. But now, it seems I'll have to forget it. After all, plain noodles aren't exactly a delicacy. Just a bowl of clear soup with a few noodles—okay, the noodles are a bit chewy, and there are a few scallions thrown in. If you pour a saucer of pickled vegetables into it and stir it with your chopsticks, the taste is passable, I suppose."
Ye Chunzhen immediately felt the stares of the nearby drinkers like flying swords.
Because everyone knew that reasoning with the second manager was a lost cause.
Ye Chunzhen gritted his teeth. "Second manager, give me a jug of fine wine, worth five snowflake coins! Today I ate a little too much pickles, got a bit salty. Let's wash it down with some good wine."
"Coming right up, Brother Ye! Just you wait."
That fellow scurried off to the shop to fetch the good wine, then turned his head and grinned back. "There'll be plain noodles in a couple of days."
The sword-carrying youth, Jiang Guancheng, had already been helped to his feet. He shattered the fist intent and qi with his own sword qi, and his complexion improved considerably.
Zhu Mei asked softly, "Yan Lü, are you all right?"
The wine-carrying youth named Yan Lü shook his head lightly and smiled. "What could happen to me? If the other side had used this as an excuse to guard the pass, then I would have been in trouble. I'd have been scolded to death by Jun Bi."
Zhu Mei complained quietly, "And you let Jiang Guancheng come here to mess around like this. Jun Bi told us not to go out easily after we arrived at Sword Immortal Sun's residence."
The youth in the plain, elegant robe glanced back at the tavern but quickly looked away.
He disliked that chaotic atmosphere. He even detested it.
Cultivators of the Dao, yet none of them maintained any self-discipline or had even a trace of immortal aura about them.
Yan Lü lifted the jug of Qingshen Mountain wine in his hand and laughed. "I just wanted to know if this celestial brew has any connection to Qingshen Mountain. My family's patriarch attends the Qingshen Banquet in the Bamboo Sea Grotto-Heaven every time."
Zhu Mei rolled her eyes. "You, Yan Lü, are always the one who likes to pull out your family tree and ancient almanacs, afraid that no one knows how illustrious your ancestors were. Jiang Guancheng's family and sect lineage are no worse than yours. Did you ever see him boasting about who his senior uncle is? But he's just not very bright—catches the wind and takes it for rain, does everything without thinking. A little prodding and he's all bristling. Does he really think this is our homeland, the Central Continent? When I was heading to the Sword Qi Great Wall this time, my family's patriarch gave me a lot of advice. He told me not to put on airs here, to be a good mute and deaf person. Oh, forget it, I'm in no position to say these things. I said quite a bit myself just now. You'd better not go to Jun Bi and tell him everything. Just say I didn't speak from start to finish. Jun Bi... sigh, he's only at the Guanhai realm, but when he gets angry, how terrifying he is! I'm fine, I'm only at a low realm anyway. Look at you all, still following my lead and keeping quiet as cicadas in winter."
Yan Lü's expression turned slightly unnatural.
If it weren't for the fact that she had a family grand-uncle who was now the academy mountain master of Liuxia Continent, and that Zhu Mei had apparently been blessed with profound fortune since childhood—having signed a strange mountain oath contract with a great female mountain lord of their dynasty—if not for those two connections, Yan Lü would really have liked to give her a big slap to teach her some sense, to make her speak like a human being, instead of every word hitting a sore spot.
---
At the wine table.
Diezhang had just heard about the shop giving away free bowls of plain noodles. When Chen Ping'an sat down, she said softly, "If we're going to make plain noodles and manage the business at the same time, I'm afraid I won't be able to handle it alone."
Chen Ping'an laughed. "The father of that little brat Lekang is said to be a pretty good cook and a decent man. He hasn't had a stable job these years. Later on, I'll teach him a secret recipe for the plain noodles and just treat him as long-term hired help for our shop. When Zhang Jiazhen has free time, she can also come to the tavern to do odd jobs, help out a bit. That way, the head manager can take it easier, too. Anyway, all these expenses combined over half a year or so won't even amount to the cost of a single bowl of wine."
Diezhang nodded with a smile, especially pleased—not much less than if she had earned money herself.
Chen Sanqiu, Fatty Yan, and the others were already used to this. These were the kinds of things Chen Ping'an would think of and do.
But Fan Dache was a bit puzzled. He joked, "Chen Ping'an, aren't you tired of all this trouble? How exactly did you get your current level of cultivation? Did it just fall from the sky?"
Chen Ping'an called out, "Da Che."
Fan Dache tensed up. "What?"
Chen Ping'an coaxed, "Look, you're drinking with so many golden core seniors. At this tiny table, we have Sanqiu, Fatty Yan, Heitan, Diezhang—such a big deal. But you're only drinking the cheapest wine? That's not proper."
Fan Dache was reluctant to be played for a sucker, especially since there was a fourth-realm qi practitioner at the table.
Chen Ping'an lowered his voice. "That wine-carrying youth—if I'm not mistaken—should be the one fighting the second match. He's at the Dragon Gate realm, just like you. And how old is he? If you lose, how much face will you lose?"
Fan Dache then ordered a jug of good wine from Head Manager Diezhang, but he couldn't help asking, "Are you so sure there will even be a second match?"
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment and then explained, "If Lü Duan hadn't been confined to her home by Sword Immortal Guo, it would be hard to say. But as things are now, there will definitely be a second match. The reason is simple: Central Continent sword cultivators care most about face. If nothing unexpected happens, our Guanhai realm defender will be Gao Ye's younger sister, Gao Youqing. Am I right? She's only been on the wall once and hasn't yet gone to the southern battlefield. Gao Youqing's talent is certainly good, but in terms of combat experience and the killing power of her flying sword, golden core sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall, compared to their peers in the Haoran Heavens, can leave them in the dust for several streets. But below golden core, the advantage is still considerable, though not as huge as you might imagine. Moreover, the Central Continent produces geniuses. Jiang Guancheng, for example, is a grand-disciple of one of the Ten of the Central Continent, and his master is the accompanying sword immortal Bitter Summer—and even he doesn't count as a major figure in this group. From that, we can infer that Gao Youqing will lose. And that wine-carrying youth is clearly not the leader of that group either. When I made my move earlier, I saw how nervous the others were, how they instinctively wanted to help, but they didn't all look toward him at the same time. That tells me he's far from commanding everyone's respect and isn't the backbone. If he's not the backbone, how would he dare drag all these young talents into betting the face of the Central Continent sword cultivators on three fights? At Sword Immortal Sun's residence, there must be another person—someone they recognize as their leader. I suspect it's a heavenly prodigy, young in age and low in cultivation realm, but extraordinarily outstanding in combat capability. How outstanding? To the point that even sword cultivators of one or two realms higher than him are willing to follow his orders. So the rules of these three passes are undoubtedly his handiwork. After all, Sword Immortal Bitter Summer has been to the Sword Qi Great Wall before. He wouldn't be so bored. And that nascent soul sword cultivator wouldn't dare act so recklessly. To put it bluntly, can a single nascent soul cultivator really keep these young masters and mistresses in check? That further supports my assessment of the young sword cultivator's formidable intellect—he can make a sword immortal and a nascent soul senior both go along with his arrangements."
Fan Dache was startled. "Chen Ping'an, did you already know the origins of this group? Or did news from Inverted Mountain reach the Ning residence?"
Chen Ping'an grinned. "Guess."
Diezhang rolled her eyes and very much wanted to advise Fan Dache not to guess—it would be mentally exhausting.
Yan Zhuo asked, "A lot of people are placing bets on this now. What about us?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "Betting on our own people losing—even if I won immortal money that way, it would be grating to keep."
Fan Dache handed over a bowl of wine. "For that statement alone, this jug of wine was worth buying."
Chen Sanqiu added, "And he borrowed the money from me."
Yan Zhuo exclaimed in admiration, "Fan Dache, you're something else. You've got the same knack as Dong Heitan."
Dong Huafu shook his head. "Still a bit less than me."
Fan Dache raised his wine bowl, his face full of smiles. "How about we all take a drink together?"
Everyone at the table raised their bowls and drank.
---
On his way back to the Ning residence alone, Chen Ping'an encountered a man in Confucian robes, the gentleman Wang Zai.
Wang Zai spoke concisely, asking about some matters concerning the sword cultivator Huang Zhou and also telling Chen Ping'an about the investigation process here at the Sword Qi Great Wall.
In short, regarding Huang Zhou's death, the Hidden Official lineage that handles such affairs—two sword immortals—were not inclined to pursue the matter too vigorously. But whether Huang Zhou was truly a demon spy was not conclusively proven; at least there was no solid evidence. Therefore, while Chen Ping'an would not be punished for killing Huang Zhou, the Hidden Official lineage, as well as Wang Zai himself, would not help clear his name. From now on, any rumors or gossip, Chen Ping'an would have to bear on his own. At the end of his words, Wang Zai also said that he would take care of the aftermath regarding Huang Zhou's affairs in the streets and alleys, look after the elderly and children, a little effort and attention.
Chen Ping'an asked curiously, "Impartial and fair—why is that?"
Wang Zai replied with his mind, "My teacher and Mr. Mao were old friends. They once traveled and studied together far away. My teacher has always considered it a lifetime regret that Mr. Mao didn't go to the Rites Academy to hone his scholarship."
Chen Ping'an understood inwardly and clasped his hands in a bow.
Wang Zai had no choice but to return the bow with a salute. In fact, this gesture was somewhat inappropriate, but the thoughts he had before probably hadn't escaped the Hidden Official and the two sword immortals, Zhu An and Luo Shan. So it didn't matter.
Wang Zai suddenly smiled. "I heard that Mr. Chen has personally compiled and bound a book of Hundred Sword Immortal Seal Script, in which one seal bears the inscription, 'The sun illuminates the day, the moon illuminates the night.' I have an old classmate whose name contains the character 'yu,' and this would be just right for me to give to him."
Calling a young man "Mr. Chen" did not feel awkward to the gentleman Wang Zai.
Chen Ping'an laughed. "I'll have a word with Yan Zhuo. If you don't mind the feminine airs of the silk shop, sir, feel free to go and take it. If that's troublesome, I'll have someone deliver it to your study. A little effort, not even any mental burden."
Wang Zai nodded with a smile. "Then I'll trouble you. If there's an inscription on the side and a signature, even better."
Chen Ping'an said, "A small matter."
Wang Zai asked, "Do you know why I am willing to do this? I could simply have remained silent, and still have no guilt toward the friendship between my teacher and Mr. Mao."
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "I don't know."
Wang Zai sighed. "Not knowing is best. Excellent."
Wang Zai took his leave and departed, his Confucian robe flowing with elegance.
Chen Ping'an returned to the Ning residence. He first stood for a while at the training ground, watching Ning Yao cultivate in the pavilion. Even from afar, it was a beautiful picture, enough to delight the heart and refresh the spirit. Then he went back to his own small courtyard and side room, where he continued carving seals. That very rough book of Hundred Sword Immortal Seal Script would definitely need to be rebound in the future. And the Hundred Sword Immortal Seal Script wasn't really just a hundred seals.
The previous hundred seals on the table had all been taken by Yan Zhuo in one go to the shop as treasures to anchor the store.
Now on the table were mostly plain seals, with very few inscribed ones.
For Chen Ping'an, carving seals was not only a way to calm his mind but also a kind of review of his own learning.
Moreover, how to "send out" his bit of knowledge in a few characters or a dozen, together with the common material of the seal, and make people willing to take it away, or even specially buy it—wasn't that a small art? Actually, it was quite significant.
In the history of the Sword Qi Great Wall, so many sages, gentlemen, and virtuous men from both the Ritual Sage and Second Sage lineages had come and gone, and some had even died on the southern battlefield. Didn't those righteous Confucian scholars hope that the sounds of reading would ring out here? But each had their own difficulties, their own troubles, their own constraints, which ultimately prevented them from truly promoting Confucian doctrines. Of course, Chen Ping'an didn't think he had that ability either. He could only do what was in front of him, at hand.
Chen Ping'an held his carving knife and slowly carved the inscription on a seal: Guandao, Guandao, Guandao.
Earlier, Dong Bude and a few of her friends had asked for private book collection seals. Chen Ping'an had actually been reluctant to take the job at first, but only nodded after Ning Yao gave her approval.
Some things, no matter how clear and bright one's own character, can't be completely ignored.
Of course, Dong Bude deliberately brought up the matter in front of Ning Yao, which was also a smart move on her part.
For those few fine jade private seals, Chen Ping'an carved them strictly according to convention, putting extra effort into elegance and literariness. Since it was a straightforward business transaction, he had to be honest with both young and old. Earlier, when drinking with Dong Huafu at the shop, the latter said his sister thought the seals were very good and would help drum up more business in the future. But Dong Bude wanted a cut. Chen Ping'an declined. Dong Huafu didn't care either; he actually didn't want his sister coming to the Ning residence every other day. If she came too often, who knows what kind of nonsense would spread again. In the end, Chen Ping'an would suffer first, but Dong Huafu himself would suffer the most. If Chen Ping'an got upset with sister Ning, who else would he take it out on but Dong Huafu?
It wasn't like he didn't know how Chen Ping'an had dealt with Fan Dache—got beaten up, and Fan Dache was still quite happy about it. Fan Dache was an idiot, but Dong Huafu was not.
The leftover scraps of fine jade from before—Dong Bude was really worthy of being the legitimate daughter of the Dong family, and her friends weren't petty either. They had said they would give them to Chen Ping'an as payment for his carving skill. And indeed, they let him carve them into extremely tiny little seals, about a dozen or so. But the seal script was surprisingly dense, and on one seal, there were even over a hundred characters. The material of these seals wasn't common white jade but Frostfall Jade, a famous celestial treasure. Chen Ping'an had to use his flying sword Fifteen as a carving knife to inscribe them. Of course, he wouldn't give these away as prizes in the silk shop. Customers would have to pay real gold and silver for them—one private seal cost one Small Heat coin, no bargaining, take it or leave it.
Perhaps thinking that the wealthy women who frequented the silk shop here at the Sword Qi Great Wall might not appreciate the subtlety of such a seal, or that this seal, which initially seemed to repeat "Guandao" three times, would gather dust for a long time, Chen Ping'an switched to a plain seal to carve. He engraved eight characters: Flowers and moon reunited, loving couple.
Chen Ping'an shook the seal, blew on it, weighed it in his palm, and was very satisfied. With carving skill like this and such an auspicious meaning, if no one fought over this seal, he'd change his last name.
The shop's business couldn't rely solely on women spending money—men had to buy too. Only then would it be considered his true skill as the second manager of the silk shop. So, after some thought, Chen Ping'an whistled softly and leisurely carved another seal: A woman of such beauty in the world shames the three lanterns in the sky.
---
At the residence of Sword Immortal Sun Juyuan.
Zhu Mei and Jiang Guancheng stood with their heads bowed at the foot of a pavilion's steps. The others, Yan Lü included, didn't dare to show any smiles.
Inside the pavilion, a youth named Lin Junbi was playing through a game record alone.
The chessboard and go bowls were all beloved items the youth carried with him—first-class mountain treasures. It was said they were originally treasured possessions of White Emperor City, later passed into Lin Junbi's hands. On the two go bowls were inscribed, respectively, "In every place, gods and spirits protect," and "In every person and every matter, the heavenly heart shelters." The numerous black and white stones on the board shone like two kinds of sword light, each radiating sword qi of different colors. Within the board, the game was locked in opposition; above the board, sword qi crisscrossed.
Every time Lin Junbi picked up a stone and set it down on the board, just bypassing the tangled sword qi along the way was enough to dazzle the eyes and seem to connect with divine will.
Lin Junbi hadn't actually scolded the two; he had just listened to the account of events and asked for some details. But Zhu Mei and Jiang Guancheng were quite frightened on their own.
It was hard to imagine that Lin Junbi was actually a mountain-and-marsh wild cultivator by origin, but his later life experiences over just a few years had been so brilliant and extraordinary that people easily overlooked the youth's humble background.
Lin Junbi looked at the chess game, then at the game record spread out by his hand. He turned to the others and smiled. "No need to be nervous. The game is still on. Go and cultivate, everyone."
Three days later, the three would go through the three passes.
Then Lin Junbi called out to one person, "Senior Brother Bianjing, shall we play a game of chess?"
The young man who had gone to the tavern with Yan Lü and the others nodded and walked alone into the pavilion to sit down.
Earlier on the street, when Chen Ping'an made his move, he had seemed the most sluggish.
Now, greatly changed, the young sword cultivator named Bianjing moved one of the go bowls to his side. His demeanor was lazy, propping his cheek with one hand as he helped Lin Junbi gather the stones into the bowl. When it came to the sword qi on the stones, unlike Lin Junbi who deliberately avoided it, Bianjing chose to forcefully break through and pick up the stones directly.
Lin Junbi was about to speak.
Bianjing complained, "You've already said it twice. Do I have that bad a memory? Just pretend to lose to that Situ Weiran, right? Otherwise, the Sword Qi Great Wall side won't have any face left. If we make trouble for ourselves later, it will inevitably delay Yan Lü and Zhu Mei's peaceful cultivation."
Lin Junbi smiled. "That works."
Bianjing said, "You winning the first match is beyond doubt. But Yan Lü's second match—are you confident?"
Lin Junbi replied, "I have some confidence, but not much. If you, Senior Brother Bianjing, were still at the Dragon Gate realm, then everything would be worry-free. After you and I finish our matches, I expect the other side will no longer have the spirit to cause us trouble."
Bianjing teased, "Is it a crime that I was lucky and broke through quickly?"
This golden core cultivator, Bianjing, was the only sword cultivator in their group who didn't belong to their Shaoyuan Dynasty. He looked just over twenty but was actually approaching thirty. Still, even at thirty, to be at the golden core bottleneck was an astonishing feat.
Lin Junbi's master was the state preceptor of the sixth largest dynasty in the Haoran Heavens, and Bianjing was an unregistered disciple of that same master.
Lin Junbi didn't know much about the true origins of this obscure "Guanhai realm" sword cultivator, and his master was unwilling to elaborate. On their journey to Inverted Mountain, only Sword Immortal Bitter Summer had sensed something, while even the old nascent soul cultivator was unaware of Bianjing's real cultivation level. As for Yan Lü and the others, they didn't realize a dragon was swimming beside them and were content to enjoy the spectacle.
If Lin Junbi's greatest personal interest in this training trip was finding someone to play chess with and also witnessing the swordsmanship of the great sword immortal Zuo You, then this half-senior brother Bianjing was after the sword immortal Wei Jin, the number one sword talent from Treasure Vase Continent.
At the Plum Garden at Inverted Mountain, Senior Brother Bianjing seemed to have considerable luck. He had gotten along quite well with a lady who was in charge of that garden.
Back in the Shaoyuan Dynasty, even if Bianjing only presented himself as a Guanhai realm sword cultivator, at most bearing the title of an unregistered disciple of the state preceptor, he still thrived like a fish in water, constantly encountering good fortunes. Sometimes Lin Junbi even suspected that Bianjing was one of those legendary immortals banished from heaven, born with their talents fully awakened.
Lin Junbi asked, "I heard that Chen Ping'an has a divine weapon. He fought Pang Yuanji to a standstill and never even used it. If you were to fight him, what would be the outcome?"
Bianjing picked up a stone with his fingers and placed it on the stone table outside the chessboard. He pressed his two fingers together and casually rubbed the precious white stone back and forth, as if sulking at it. "Cultivating the Dao, only to end up competing with others over who wins or loses—what's the point?"
Lin Junbi smiled slightly and grabbed a handful of stones. "Guess the first move?"
Bianjing wasn't in a hurry to play. He looked up and asked, "You already know?"
Lin Junbi nodded. "When you came back, you were clearly injured, but you were smiling more than usual and your voice was louder. I figured it out."
Bianjing sighed mournfully. "But the opponent was Cao Ci. Losing to him isn't shameful, right?"
Lin Junbi nodded. "Losing to Cao Ci isn't shameful, but seeking him out to get beaten—I think that's not very wise."
Bianjing remained silent.
Lin Junbi asked curiously, "How many punches?"
Bianjing flicked his chin toward the stone he was pressing with his two fingers.
Lin Junbi was puzzled. "One punch?"
Bianjing laughed angrily. "Do you look down on your senior brother that much? Two punches! The first broke my flying sword, the second knocked me senseless. But to be honest, if I'd been a bit more shameless, I could have taken a few more hits."
Lin Junbi smiled and said no more.
Bianjing asked, "Since Yan Lü's victory is not certain, don't you have any other plans?"
Lin Junbi said, "I originally had a plan: if the Sword Qi Great Wall sent Guo Zhujiu for the second match, I would break through on the spot. If the third match was Gao Ye or Sima Weiran, then I would break through again. But after I settled in here, I changed my mind. It's unnecessary. Doing so would only make a wedding dress for someone else. If Chen Ping'an were present, there would be a fourth match. I'm not your senior brother after all; I would definitely lose to Chen Ping'an, who would also have fought four matches. It would only make that Chen Ping'an more popular."
Bianjing teased, "You're that concerned about Chen Ping'an? Was sending Zhu Mei and the others to hit their heads against the wall at the tavern intentional on your part?"
Lin Junbi smiled faintly. "To be remembered by me, Lin Junbi, Chen Ping'an should be happy."
---
And that Chen Ping'an, who was being thought of but didn't know it, was in a secret chamber at the Ning residence, beginning the process of refining his fourth lifebound object.
After the Water Mansion Water Character Seal, the Mountain Shrine Five-Color Earth, and the Wooden Mansion Divine Statue came the Metal of the Five Elements, followed by the Fire of the Five Elements, for which he had yet to find a suitable lifebound object.
The Water Character Seal had been refined at the southernmost tip of Treasure Vase Continent, atop the Sea of Clouds at Old Dragon City.
The Five-Color Earth had been refined near the mouth of the Ji River as it flowed into the sea on Beiju Continent.
The wooden divine statue, obtained from the mountain peak Daoist temple at the Immortal Mansion site, had been refined on an island in the Dragon Palace Grotto-Heaven.
Now, the Metal of the Five Elements he was about to refine was a sheet of golden material—a golden scripture page. To be precise, it was a Buddhist sutra.
Regarding this matter, Chen Ping'an had asked his senior brother Zuo You whether it was appropriate. Zuo You only said, "A gentleman is not a vessel. What's inappropriate?"
The cauldron was still the Five-Colored Gold-Embellished Stove he had obtained from the old nascent soul cultivator Lu Yong of Tongye Continent. Its grade was extremely high, but because of Jiang Shangzhen's connections, it had been sold at half price, costing Chen Ping'an only fifty Guyu coins.
Lu Yong had once said, "The nature of metal does not decay or rot, therefore it is the treasure of ten thousand things." So this cauldron was most suitable for refining Metal Element items.
Inside the secret chamber, various celestial materials and earthly treasures had all been prepared.
Outside the secret chamber, Nalan Yexing sat cross-legged, responsible for guarding and stabilizing the process.
At the Dragon-Slaying Cliff pavilion, Old Mammy Bai accompanied Ning Yao in idle chat.
The old woman smiled. "Don't worry, the heavens always aid the virtuous. Our young master is a man of the Dao; heaven will surely help him. Besides, the young master has profound learning. Although he is a Confucian disciple, he travels far and wide, walking among the people, truly acting like a bodhisattva. Miss, there's no need to worry about this refining."
Despite this, Ning Yao was still somewhat anxious, but she smiled anyway. "Mammy Bai, don't say these things in front of him. He'll feel uncomfortable."
The old woman deliberately said, "Is it because of the way I address him as 'young master'? At most, the young master might feel a bit awkward verbally, but in his heart, he's surely very pleased."
Ning Yao, distracted by this, felt a little relieved. "If the refining succeeds, then in a couple of days, I'll go with him to watch the battle of the three passes."
The old woman said, "Miss, you've never been interested in such things before."
Ning Yao replied, "I'm still not interested now. I'm just going to keep him company and help him relax."
After a moment of silence, Ning Yao said, "Mammy Bai might not be able to tell, but refining the Metal of the Five Elements will be the hardest for Chen Ping'an to get through."
The old woman asked, "Is it hard emotionally, or hard in terms of the bottleneck?"
Ning Yao said, "Both."
The old woman immediately became anxious, even more nervous than her own young miss.
Ning Yao laughed. "Mammy Bai, it's fine. Chen Ping'an can always solve his own problems. That's how he's always been. If he knows we're worried, then he'll start to worry. Otherwise..."
Ning Yao looked toward the training ground outside the pavilion. "No bitterness is so hard that he can't chew it and swallow it down."
The old woman nodded. "That's good."
Ning Yao took a seal from her sleeve and handed it to the old woman, saying softly, "I stole it."
The old woman was caught between laughter and tears. She took it, looked at the inscription, and was momentarily stunned. Carefully, she tucked it into her sleeve, unable to hide her smile. "The young master's calligraphy is truly wonderful."
Especially those seal script characters—they were deeply comforting.
Black hair tinged with frost and snow, yet still a beauty.
Ning Yao shook her head. "He himself said that his calligraphy is very stiff. Besides regular script, which is passable, the rest—cursive, running script, seal script—are just superficial imitations. In the eyes of experts, they would only be laughable. But for dealing with these common materials, it's more than enough."
Outside the secret chamber, Nalan Yexing was puzzled. An hour had passed, and Chen Ping'an still hadn't lit the cauldron.
Inside the chamber, Chen Ping'an sat with his eyes closed, deep in thought, lost in contemplation.
---
At the Yan residence, a magnificent mansion that seemed to have the four characters "My Family Is Rich" plastered all over its walls, the fat young man Yan Zhuo was feeling uneasy. He had obtained the seal early on and hurried home excitedly, but now he was at a loss and didn't dare to bring it out. So he kept delaying.
Today, he was pacing back and forth in the corridor outside his father's study, hesitating.
His father's study had no door, just to make it easier for the Yan family head to come and go.
Originally, it hadn't been necessary, but Yan Zhuo's father had made the decision himself. He had torn down the door, saying, "I've lost both arms, so they're gone. Opening and closing the door with sword qi—is that something amusing?"
Yan Ming had long since detected the commotion of his son pacing in the corridor. Such a fat man, walking with a thunderous tread—even if Yan Ming's cultivation was now mediocre, he was still at the nascent soul level. How could he not know?
Yan Ming frowned and said, "If you're not coming in, then get the hell out."
Yan Zhuo was still terrified of his father. There was no help for it—he had been beaten into fear as a child. Later on, his father had apparently given up all hope on him, the sole heir of the Yan family, and had stopped even scolding or beating him. It was only on that last occasion, when he carried Yan Zhuo back home on his back, that the man had begun to show a little more kindness to his son, occasionally asking about Yan Zhuo's cultivation progress. After that, the woman who had spent her whole life doting on her son seemed to have received instructions and, for the first time, became strict with Yan Zhuo—strictly controlling his cultivation, his business dealings, and even his choice of friends.
Yan Zhuo instinctively wanted to obey and leave, but after taking a few steps, he gritted his teeth and walked toward the study, stepping over the threshold.
Yan Ming was a middle-aged man with a stern expression. His two sleeves were empty. He sat on a chair, with a desk full of books in front of him, and a small spirit creature was responsible for turning the pages.
Yan Ming frowned and asked, "Something on your mind?"
Yan Zhuo nervously produced the seal and placed it gently on the table. "Dad, this is for you. I'm leaving now."
Yan Ming was taken aback. A seal made of ordinary material. "Short of money? So you're giving me this?"
Yan Zhuo's face flushed red. He didn't even dare to explain. He lowered his head, quickened his pace, and left the study.
Once out of the corridor, Fatty Yan breathed a sigh of relief.
Back in the study, the obedient and gentle little spirit creature hopped over to the seal, squatted down, and lifted the seal's bottom inscription like carrying a log so its master could see.
Yan Ming looked at it for a long time, then suddenly asked, "Do you think I've been too strict with Zhuo'er?"
The little spirit creature nodded vigorously.
Yan Ming laughed and turned to look out the window. In the distance, there was a towering city wall.
Don't dare to take up a sword and ascend the city wall, fearing to drive back the three moons.
How could your father have such ability?
The little spirit creature blinked. It had served the master dutifully for so many years and had never seen such a smile on his face.
---
On the city wall.
The gentleman Wang Zai had just delivered a newly printed copy of the Hundred Sword Immortal Seal Script to the Confucian sage currently stationed at the Sword Qi Great Wall, Ye Laolian.
It was very crude, far inferior to the ordinary seal collections of the Haoran Heavens, let alone those meticulously collected by scholarly families.
The sage leafed through it page by page. When he came to a place that resonated with him, he would smile knowingly.
No mountains and rivers, no scenic landmarks, yet it was the highest city in the world.
Where children frolic, where sword immortals drink heartily.
When the Confucian sage turned to a page, he paused in his movements and nodded gently.
Wang Zai looked over and saw the inscription: "Three hundred frost-ripened oranges and persimmons." He also smiled. "Here at the Sword Qi Great Wall, perhaps no one understands the allusion for now."
The Confucian sage laughed. "Perhaps there will be someone, with both leisure and money, who will go and look up books to find the origin of the inscription."
---
The Shaoyuan Dynasty of the Central Continent was like the Zhu Ying Dynasty of Treasure Vase Continent—teeming with sword cultivators.
So today's battle of the three passes drew a crowd of onlookers like clouds.
The venue was Xuanhu Street, where the major surnames of the Sword Qi Great Wall stood side by side and wealthy families clustered.
The reason it wasn't at Taixiang Street, where Chen Sanqiu and Dong Huafu's families were located, was naturally that they didn't dare to choose it. And even if they had dared and chosen it, no one would have come to watch.
Fatty Yan stood on tiptoe, looking around, and asked in confusion, "Why hasn't my brother Chen come yet?"
Dong Huafu was gnawing on a big flatbread. Whenever the Dong family's young master bought anything, he always put it on Chen Sanqiu or Yan Zhuo's tab.
Fan Dache glanced at the entrance of a distant house. Chen Sanqiu patted his shoulder, and Fan Dache smiled. "It's nothing."
At both ends of the street stood the native sword cultivators, led by Qi Shou and Gao Ye, and the foreign sword cultivators, led by Yan Lü and Jiang Guancheng, with the youth Lin Junbi surrounded like the moon surrounded by stars. And Bianjing, in that crowd, was still the most inconspicuous presence.
Gao Ye's younger sister, Gao Youqing, would defend the first pass. Gao Ye, who hadn't even come to watch the previous matches, was naturally present today. Pang Yuanji stood next to Gao Ye, talking with the petite Gao Youqing about some precautions. Not that Gao Ye didn't want to say them himself, but it was really because his sister never liked listening to his nagging.
Lin Junbi walked forward slowly, and Gao Youqing strode forward to meet him.
Neither side showed any intention of unleashing their flying swords as they gradually closed the distance.
A group of earthly immortal sword cultivators squatted on the steps of a mansion's entrance and laughed, "Miss Gao, that opponent's quite handsome. He's good enough for you! Beat him, hoist him over your shoulder, run to some quiet place, and do whatever you want!"
Gao Youqing paid no attention, her mind focused entirely on the youth drawing nearer and nearer.
Lin Junbi, however, had the leisure to look around, sizing up the grand mansions on either side of Xuanhu Street.
Two Guanhai realm sword cultivators.
A single sword strike decided the outcome.
Gao Youqing made the first move, sending her lifebound flying sword through the air—a fleeting flash that sought no fanfare.
Lin Junbi's flying sword was slower to act but easily knocked away Gao Youqing's lifebound flying sword, and in an instant, it hovered right at the center of Gao Youqing's brow.
Gao Youqing's face turned pale.
The flying sword at her brow vanished in a flash, and Lin Junbi had already turned and walked away.
Yan Lü took a deep breath, stepped out from the crowd, and brushed past Lin Junbi.
Lin Junbi smiled at him. "You can take your time settling the score."
Yan Lü nodded emphatically.
On both sides of the street, the vast crowd of watching sword cultivators didn't boo or curse. A contest between equals decided in an instant—that was a matter of skill.
But that youth was just too infuriating.
He was almost catching up to the second manager of that tavern.
Speak of the devil.
The second manager appeared with Ning Yao, walking side by side into view from the end of the street where Lin Junbi stood.
Lin Junbi looked at the green-robed man, whose complexion was slightly pale, as if unwell. He smiled, glanced at him, and didn't bother looking again. But the woman beside him—rumor had it she was even more remarkable, praised beyond measure. At the Plum Garden on Inverted Mountain, Lin Junbi had heard quite a bit. Still, a Guanhai realm cultivator less than ten years old? What was so remarkable about that? And a golden core bottleneck sword cultivator in her twenties, not yet a nascent soul—hardly could be called earth-shattering or invincible under heaven, could she?
Lin Junbi shook his head. He took a few extra looks at her, not even finding her particularly attractive. Compared to the imagined Ning Yao of the Sword Qi Great Wall, much was lacking.
Chen Ping'an walked slowly with his hands in his sleeves. He glanced at the youth and said coolly, "Watch your eyes."
The whole street immediately erupted in whistles. The Sword Qi Great Wall never held back when it came to teasing their own.
Especially that second manager—he wasn't a little girl like Gao Youqing. The man had thick skin—he was more shameless about making money than about fighting.
Lin Junbi smiled. "Are you talking about yourself?"
After saying that, Chen Ping'an didn't look at the youth again. Instead, his gaze fell on Bianjing, who was hiding in the crowd.
Bianjing's expression remained normal, but inwardly he was uneasy. Back at the tavern, had he revealed something? Surely not.
Ning Yao tugged at Chen Ping'an's sleeve. Chen Ping'an stopped and asked softly, "What is it?"
Ning Yao looked at him.
Chen Ping'an smiled and nodded.
So Ning Yao turned to Lin Junbi and said, "When you're told to watch your eyes, you watch your eyes."
Lin Junbi twitched the corner of his mouth.
Then Ning Yao spoke a few words.
The entire street went deathly silent.
Chen Sanqiu and Yan Zhuo exchanged a glance, both seeing pity for the youth in each other's eyes. They struggled to hold back their laughter.
Not only that, but sword immortals stationed on the city wall one after another came flying over on their swords, not even bothering with the technique of "viewing mountains and rivers."
Because Ning Yao had just said, "If you dare to temporarily break through to the Dragon Gate realm and draw your sword, I'll stay at the Guanhai realm and fight you. If you break through again to the golden core realm and draw your sword, I'll suppress myself to the Dragon Gate realm. So now do you want to admit defeat?"