Chapter 619: It Won't Work Without Me, Liu Xianyang

Chapter 619: It Won't Work Without Me, Liu Xianyang

Qiu Long and Liu E were both shocked, because the second shopkeeper of the Sword Qi Great Wall had never been bullied like this before; it always seemed that only the second shopkeeper could cheat others.

Tao Ban, such a stubborn child, protected the tavern business so that Sister Diezhang and the second shopkeeper could earn money every day—that was Tao Ban's greatest wish at the moment. But even now, Tao Ban gave up the chance to speak up for justice. He silently picked up the bowls and chopsticks and left the table, but couldn't help looking back. The child always felt that the tall, young man in the green robe was truly impressive, and that he wanted to become someone like him in the future, never someone like the second shopkeeper. Even if the second shopkeeper often laughed and joked with people in the tavern, and clearly earned a lot of money every day and was famous along the Sword Qi Great Wall, when there were few people around, he looked exactly like this today—burdened with worries, not very happy.

Liu Xianyang let go of Chen Ping'an and sat down beside him, who had already made room on the bench. He waved at Tao Ban and said, "Hey, young waiter, bring another jug of good wine and a bowl. Put it on Chen Ping'an's tab."

Tao Ban looked at the second shopkeeper, who nodded slightly, so Tao Ban went to fetch the cheapest jug of Bamboo Sea Cave Heaven wine. Although he didn't really want to become like the second shopkeeper, the second shopkeeper's business acumen—whether selling wine, running the gambling house, or teaching boxing and swordplay—was still the best. Tao Ban felt he should learn these things; otherwise, how would he later steal Feng Kangle's wife?

Chen Ping'an still had wine in his own jug, so he poured a bowl for Liu Xianyang and asked, "Why are you here?"

Liu Xianyang didn't answer right away. He took a sip of the wine, shivered, and said mournfully, "As expected, I still can't get used to these so-called immortal brews. I'm just a lowly life; all I've ever enjoyed is glutinous rice wine."

Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "Dong Shuijing's glutinous rice wine actually had some left, but I finished it off."

Liu Xianyang jabbed his elbow into Chen Ping'an's shoulder. "Then why the hell are you talking about it?"

Chen Ping'an rubbed his shoulder and drank his wine in silence.

Liu Xianyang took a big gulp, wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the street behind him. "I came on a study tour with my classmates. On the way, I found out that the Sword Qi Great Wall was at war again. Scared me half to death. I was afraid that the teachers and scholars, all fired up, would pull out a few pounds of righteous qi from their bookish bellies to show the students, and then huff and puff lead us to kill demons on the city wall. I wanted to hide in the Chunfan Study, one of the four private residences on Daoxuan Mountain, focus on reading, and take a few distant glances at the other famous residences—Yuanrou Manor, Meihua Garden, and Shuijing Palace. But my teachers and classmates were all filled with righteous indignation. I care most about face; I can lose half my life, but I absolutely cannot have my face slapped. So I bit the bullet and followed. Of course, the most important reason was that I'd heard a lot about you in Chunfan Study. I had to come and advise you—can't let you keep going on like this."

Chen Ping'an said nothing, just drank.

The most long-winded person in the world was Liu Xianyang.

Chen Ping'an had endured it for many years.

Back then, the three of them lived together: Liu Xianyang and Gu Can would argue and curse at the drop of a hat, and Chen Ping'an was too lazy to mediate. He just listened. Anyway, no matter how much they argued, it never went too far. Liu Xianyang never seemed to lose an argument because he didn't care about winning or losing—he was always grinning and cheerful. Gu Can, on the other hand, even if he won the verbal fight and cursed eighteen generations of Liu Xianyang's ancestors, would end up more aggrieved himself, chasing after Liu Xianyang to hit him. When really angry, Gu Can would grab branches or throw stones, and Liu Xianyang, even if hit by a stone, wouldn't get mad. Gu Can once said that Liu Xianyang had no good qualities—poor, cheap, and destined to be a bachelor. The only decent thing about him was that he didn't hold grudges and never used his strength to bully others.

Back then, the three of them, clinging to life together, each had their own way of living. No one's reasoning was more valid, and there was no clear right or wrong. Liu Xianyang liked to spout crooked logic. Chen Ping'an felt he didn't understand logic at all. Gu Can believed that logic was about strength and power—if you had money and a bunch of lackeys, you were right. Liu Xianyang and Chen Ping'an were just older than him, two poor bastards who might not even marry in this life—what logic could they have?

But back then, climbing trees for eggs, catching fish in the river, transplanting rice seedlings together, or stealing young bean sprouts from the cracks in the drying grounds—those times were always more filled with happiness.

During a pause in Liu Xianyang's drinking, Chen Ping'an finally asked, "How is it, studying at the Chunru Chen Clan?"

Liu Xianyang laughed. "What do you mean, 'how is it'? These past ten-plus years, I've gotten through them. Could it be worse than in the town?"

Liu Xianyang seemed unable to get used to this Bamboo Sea Cave Heaven wine, so he mostly took small sips. "So I don't regret leaving the town at all. The most I do is when I'm bored, I think about the scenery back home—the fields, the messy Dragon Kiln dwellings, the chicken shit and dog crap in the alleys. I think about it, but it's just idle thoughts. Nothing much to it. If it weren't for some old scores to settle and some people to see, I wouldn't feel the need to return to Bottle Gourd Continent. What for? No point."

Liu Xianyang shook his head and repeated, "Really no point."

Chen Ping'an suddenly just said a name and then fell silent: "Gu Can."

Liu Xianyang snorted contemptuously. "That little snot-nosed brat always wanted you to be his father. Do you really think you're his dad? You're out of your mind. If you didn't kill him, and your conscience bothers you, that's your own doing—bear it. If you did kill him and regret it, you have to endure that too. What's this all about now? You've been like this since you were a kid, haven't you? Now that you've gained some skill, read some books, and think you're a sage or a saint? Learned some boxing and cultivator arts, and now you think you're an immortal on the mountain?"

Liu Xianyang got angry and shoved Chen Ping'an's head. "Gu Can? Can't even call him 'little snot-nosed brat' anymore?"

The more Liu Xianyang spoke, the angrier he got. He poured wine but didn't drink, cursing, "It's just your fussy nature, always looking for trouble. If it were me, after Gu Can left the town and did whatever he wanted, what the hell do I care? I only know the little snot-nosed brat from Mud Vase Alley. If he became the little demon lord of Letter Sea Lake, killing innocent people and courting death, that's his own skill—his way of living a good life by doing evil. The miasma of Letter Sea Lake—who stopped that calamity? Did I, Liu Xianyang, kill anyone or harm anyone? You, Chen Ping'an, read a few books and now you have to measure yourself by the standards of sages and saints in everything? Back then, you weren't even a Confucian disciple! If you're so high and mighty, then shouldn't Confucian sages and gentlemen have ascended to heaven long ago? And me, a proper Confucian student, along with the Chen Clan ancestor who balanced the sun and moon—shouldn't we have come to the Sword Qi Great Wall to kill demons seven or eight hundred years ago? Otherwise, we'd be all twisted up and die from frustration? I just don't get it. How did you become this version of Chen Ping'an? I remember when you were a kid, you weren't like this—you didn't meddle in anything, didn't say an extra word. Who taught you? That Teacher Qi from the school? He's dead, so I can't scold him. Besides, the dead are big. The Old Scholar of the Literary Sage Sect? Fine, I'll go scold him later. The great sword immortal Zuo You? Forget it, he's too close; I'm afraid he'll beat me."

Chen Ping'an finally spoke: "I have always been the same person I was back then."

Liu Xianyang raised his hand, and Chen Ping'an instinctively dodged.

Liu Xianyang rolled his eyes, lifted his wine bowl, and took a sip. "Do you know the one thing I find most unimaginable? It's not that you've built up this fortune—you're obviously rich now, one of the most successful among our group. Because I always thought early on that Chen Ping'an would definitely become rich, very rich. It's not even that you've ended up in this miserable situation that looks glorious but is actually pitiful. Because I've always known you're a person who likes to dwell on things."

Liu Xianyang raised his bowl again and set it back on the table. He really didn't like drinking. He sighed. "The thing I find most unimaginable is that you learned to drink, and you actually like it."

Liu Xianyang put the bowl back on the table. He truly didn't enjoy drinking. He sighed, "The little snot-nosed brat turned out like this. What can Chen Ping'an and Liu Xianyang do about it? Everyone has their own life to live. There are so many things we can't do well no matter how hard we try. That's always been the case, and it will probably always be like that. Didn't we survive our worst years?"

Liu Xianyang reached out and pressed down on Chen Ping'an's head. "You helped the little snot-nosed brat make up for so many mistakes. That's good—better than good. I've read a few saintly books, and I know that the world lacks fools like you who take trouble upon themselves."

Liu Xianyang lightly lifted his hand, then slapped it back down. "But you still feeling this bad now—that's very bad. It can't get any worse. For me, Liu Xianyang is first Liu Xianyang, then a half-baked scholar. So I just don't want you to become that kind of fool. This selfishness, as long as it doesn't harm anyone, so don't be afraid of it."

Chen Ping'an said, "I know all the reasoning."

Liu Xianyang smiled bitterly. "But you can't do it, or you feel you haven't done enough, right? So it hurts even more?"

Chen Ping'an nodded. "Actually, I already passed the mental hurdle with Gu Can. But when I see so many lonely ghosts, I can't help thinking of the three of us back then. I can't help feeling their pain. I think of how Gu Can was kicked, such a small child, rolling in pain, almost dying. I think of how Liu Xianyang was almost beaten to death in Mud Vase Alley. I think of how I almost starved to death, surviving only because the neighbors shared their food. So in Letter Sea Lake, I wanted to do a little more. I didn't harm anyone. I protected myself as best I could. If I wanted to do something and could do even a little, why wouldn't I?"

Liu Xianyang felt uncomfortable too. He said slowly, "If I had known it would be like this, I wouldn't have left home. Truly, it won't work without me."

When a person has a dream, they often need to leave home.

But once they achieve that dream, they inevitably dream of home.

But for Liu Xianyang, as he said, he didn't have much nostalgia for home, nor anything he couldn't let go.

At most, he worried about Chen Ping'an and the little snot-nosed brat, but his attachment to the latter was far less than to Chen Ping'an.

For Liu Xianyang, living his life well was the best he could do for the Liu family. Performing ancestral rites, pasting door gods at New Year's, repairing the ancestral home—he had never cared much about any of that. He was always careless. Every year during the first month and at Qingming, when visiting graves, he liked to mooch off Chen Ping'an's paper money. Chen Ping'an would mutter a few words, but Liu Xianyang would always retort, "I'm the only descendant of the Liu family. In the future, I'll help the Liu family spread branches and leaves, keep the incense burning. The ancestors underground should be laughing with joy. How dare they expect a poor descendant struggling to survive like me to do more? If they really want to bless me, Liu Xianyang, and think well of their descendant, then they should send me a dream: tell me where a few big jars of silver are buried in the town. If I get rich, I'll burn not just a small basin of paper money, but several big basins of paper horses and paper people."

Liu Xianyang has always had a big heart—so big that he could laugh about nearly being beaten to death back then. Even when the little snot-nosed brat Gu Can brought it up, he was genuinely unconcerned. The little snot-nosed brat's heart, on the other hand, was smaller than a needle's eye. Many people's grudges eventually become indifferent matters, written off and turned over. But some people's grudges last a lifetime; they keep staring at the ledger with wide eyes, turning it over and over, and they feel genuine pleasure in it. It's not a burden—it's true fulfillment.

Liu Xianyang said, "As long as you demand of yourself, the world will demand more of you. The further you go, the more idle people there will be who are full from eating and pick on good people. The better the world, the more gossip there will be. Because when the world is good, people have the energy to talk behind others' backs. And the world is more tolerant of selfish people. If the world were bad, everyone would shut up. It's hard enough to get a full meal; in times of war and chaos, who has the leisure to judge others? They can't even care about their own survival. Do you understand this reasoning?"

Chen Ping'an nodded.

Liu Xianyang continued, "If you think self-discipline is the most important thing, and that Chen Ping'an should become a better person, I won't try to persuade you further. As long as you don't die, that's fine. So I only ask one thing of you: don't die."

Chen Ping'an said, "There are too many unexpected events. I'll try my best to survive."

Liu Xianyang frowned. "Teacher Qi chose you to escort those children to study. The Old Scholar of the Literary Sage Sect chose you as his final disciple. So many people on Fallen Mountain chose you as their mountain lord. Ning Yao chose you as her immortal partner. These reasons, no matter how great, are not reasons for you to die here, in this war. To put it bluntly, none of those who chose you want you to die on the Sword Qi Great Wall. Who do you think you are? Will the Sword Qi Great Wall definitely fall without one Chen Ping'an? Will it definitely hold with one Chen Ping'an? That's bullshit. And don't give me that 'even a little help is worth doing' nonsense. Don't I know you? If you want to do something, can you ever lack reasons? Before, you hadn't studied, but you still had a set of arguments. Now that you've read some books, you're even better at deceiving yourself. I'll ask you one thing: Do you actually intend to leave here alive? Is everything you do aimed at leaving the Sword Qi Great Wall alive?"

Chen Ping'an remained silent.

Liu Xianyang asked, "So that's a no. You're relying on luck? Gambling that the Sword Qi Great Wall will hold, that Ning Yao won't die, that Zuo You won't die, that all the new friends you made here won't die? You, Chen Ping'an, think that after leaving home, things have gone too smoothly? That your luck finally turned—from the unluckiest person back then to the luckiest now? Have you ever considered that the more you have in your hands now, if you die, it all ends? You're still the same pitiful wretch with the worst luck?"

Chen Ping'an, for once, burst out angrily, "Then what should I do?! If you were in my shoes, what would you do?!"

Liu Xianyang's expression was calm. He said, "Simple. First, talk to Ning Yao. Even if the Sword Qi Great Wall can't be held, you both have to survive. In the meantime, you can do your best, strike with your sword and fist without holding back. So you must ask Ning Yao what she thinks: Does she want to drag Chen Ping'an down to die with her here, as a pair of tragic lovers? Or does she hope that one dies and one leaves—one less death is a gain? Or do you both work together, determined to leave with a clear conscience, willing to make up for today's debts in the future? Once you're clear on Ning Yao's thoughts, regardless of the temporary answer, you must also ask your senior brother Zuo You what he thinks. Does he want his junior brother to carry on the Literary Sage lineage's incense, or to die a glorious death on the battlefield as a disciple of the Literary Sage Sect? Senior brother and junior brother, just a matter of who dies first. Finally, ask the great sword immortal Chen Qingdu: if I, Chen Ping'an, want to live, will he stop me? If not, can he help? Matters of life and death—what is face compared to that?"

Liu Xianyang pushed his own wine bowl toward Chen Ping'an and said, "Have you forgotten? Back in our hometown, who among us three had the right to care about face? If you begged someone, would they give it to you? If begging worked, would any of us think it was a big deal? The little snot-nosed brat begged people not to insult his mother. If begging worked, how many kowtows would he have done back then? If kowtowing on the ground could let you learn the ceramic-firing craft, would you have kowtowed? If I kowtowed until my head was twice as big and I could get money and act like a big shot, do you think I wouldn't have dug a big hole in the ground? Now that you've made something of yourself, the pitiful wretch from Mud Vase Alley has become the young mountain lord of Fallen Mountain and the second shopkeeper of the Sword Qi Great Wall, and instead you're willing to die for face? I can't afford this kind of wine. I, Liu Xianyang, have read many books, and I still don't care much about face. I feel ashamed—I'm not worthy of Chen Ping'an anymore."

Chen Ping'an's expression was dazed. He reached out and pushed the wine bowl back to its original spot.

It seemed that was all he could do.

Liu Xianyang grabbed the white bowl and threw it aside on the ground, shattering it. He sneered, "Bullshit 'broken pieces for peace.' I'm not going to die here. When I get back to my hometown, don't worry—I'll visit Uncle and Aunt's graves and tell them, 'Your son was a good man. Your daughter-in-law was also good. But they're dead too.' Chen Ping'an, do you think they'll be happy to hear that?"

Chen Ping'an completely collapsed. His heart, his fighting spirit, his very essence—all collapsed. He just murmured, "I don't know. In all these years, I've never dreamed of my parents once. Not once."

Liu Xianyang suddenly laughed. He turned his head and asked, "Sister-in-law, what do you say?"

Behind Chen Ping'an, there was a woman who had traveled here in haste. She had been standing silently within a small pocket realm for a long time. Finally, she spoke: "Anyone who wants Chen Ping'an dead—I'll make them die first. If Chen Ping'an wants to die himself—well, I like him, so I'll only beat him half to death."