Chapter 659: Center Martial Man
Liu Xianyang was truly just going back to his hometown for a visit. After the visit, he boarded the Drunken Mountain dragon boat named "Overturning Ink." Unable to reach Old Dragon City directly, he needed to transfer at a wandering immortal ferry near a place called Comb Water Country in the central part of Treasure Vessel Continent, then travel south along the Dragon Path.
All the direct lineage cultivators of the Pearl Hairpin Island's Patriarch Hall had long since moved from Book-Splashing Lake to Ao Yu Bei, making it one of the earliest immortal mountain factions to form an alliance with Drunken Mountain. The former regent princess, now Island Master Liu Zhongrun, personally took on the role of temporary boat manager. A ferry without an earthly immortal cultivator stationed on board would ultimately be hard to trust.
Ruan Xiu saw Liu Xianyang off at Oxhorn Mountain Ferry.
The dragon boat was enormous, a mountain of gold and silver. Liu Xianyang sighed with emotion. Back in the early days, when there were three of them, the one who most wanted to earn money wasn't actually Gu Can, but Chen Ping'an. However, unlike Gu Can, who thought about how to spend money as soon as he thought about earning it, Chen Ping'an was simply scared from being poor. Only by earning money every day, no matter how much, and having a family fortune that was at least one copper coin more than yesterday's, could he make his unsettled days feel stable, and his stable days feel even more secure.
For this trip home, Liu Xianyang mostly went door-to-door, chatting with the elderly neighbors who had stayed in the small town. The old folks were fewer each year, while the children who used to run around in split-crotch pants grew up year by year, getting married. They might not even recognize Liu Xianyang anymore. His old peers were busy doing business in the prefectural city, so Liu Xianyang had fewer and fewer chances to really talk to people, and it was destined to become even rarer.
These days, when chatting with the elderly, the topics that came up most often were about the mountain immortal Ma Kuxuan from Apricot Blossom Alley, the big landlord Chen Ping'an who bought many hills in his hometown, the inexplicably dragon-born Song Jixin, and Dong Shuijing, who was doing big business with officials in the prefectural city. These were the most discussed figures among the townsfolk.
And these old folks, who had endured hardship and come out ahead, especially liked to praise the feng shui of Apricot Blossom Alley and Mud Vase Alley, saying it was no worse than Fortune Street and Peach Leaf Alley.
Liu Xianyang enjoyed listening to the old folks talk about these domestic affairs. Especially some old people who hadn't been familiar with Mud Vase Alley before, talking about that Chen Ping'an as if he were a younger relative they'd watched grow up. It made Liu Xianyang quite happy. Indeed, when it came to dealing with people, especially interacting with elders, Chen Ping'an had been quite skilled since childhood. He didn't talk much, but when he met someone on the road, he would always greet them properly, never getting the seniority wrong. Even if the other person ignored him, not even giving him a sidelong glance, the next time they met, the Mud Vase Alley youth would still address them respectfully.
Some people rose to prominence and sudden wealth through good fate, which couldn't be envied. But some successes came through accumulated daily efforts. It seemed like anyone could learn from them, yet also impossible to truly learn.
While waiting for the dragon boat to dock for loading and unloading, Liu Xianyang knew that the dragon boat's business now had connections with the Hemp Garment Sect and the Spring Dew Garden of North Ju Lu Continent. These were matters beyond the imagination of most small-town folk.
Liu Xianyang suddenly asked with a smile, "That child on the mountain named Xie Ling, his features are quite unusual."
Speaking with hidden meaning had always been a custom of the small town.
Ruan Xiu hummed in acknowledgment, "He's just a child."
Liu Xianyang looked somewhat gleeful.
Ruan Xiu said, "You can't control Gu Can."
Liu Xianyang nodded, "At best, I could beat him up. Gu Can wouldn't fight back, but it wouldn't change his fundamental nature as a little snot-nosed brat. I knew that long ago, so I never planned to truly manage him. That little bastard still has some conscience left, knowing who's really good to him."
Ruan Xiu and Liu Xianyang were old acquaintances. Liu Xianyang had actually entered that sword-forging workshop by Dragon Beard River earlier than Chen Ping'an, and as an apprentice, not the temporary helper Chen Ping'an later became. Whether it was firing porcelain or forging swords and working iron, Liu Xianyang always seemed to adapt to local customs faster than Chen Ping'an. Liu Xianyang was like paving a road; whenever he found a path to take, he liked to bring Chen Ping'an along behind him.
In life, many people are willing for their friends to do well, but not necessarily for their friends to do better than themselves—especially much better.
Liu Xianyang wasn't like that, and neither was Chen Ping'an. This was probably why these two people of vastly different temperaments could become true friends, and why they became even better friends after their lives underwent earth-shaking changes.
Ruan Xiu held an embroidered handkerchief in one hand and picked up a peach blossom cake. "Didn't you go to Mud Vase Alley to greet her and chat a bit?"
Liu Xianyang sighed emotionally, "The admiration of youth is joyful, but looking back now, it's just a beautiful memory."
After Liu Xianyang finished his sigh, Ruan Xiu had already finished a piece of cake and picked up another, an almond pastry. "What did you talk about with my father? He seemed quite happy."
Liu Xianyang chuckled, "Master Ruan drank wine, and I cursed Chen Ping'an."
Ruan Xiu just said, "Oh."
Liu Xianyang wasn't exactly lying, but there was some serious business he couldn't discuss with Ruan Xiu. When Chen Chun'an returned from his overseas journey, he had found Liu Xianyang and asked him to deliver a message to the Great Li Song family of Treasure Vessel Continent when he returned home. Liu Xianyang thought it would be more appropriate to have Master Ruan, the Great Li Chief Supplicant and his future master, argue the matter with the young emperor. That matter wasn't small—it was about how the Pure Confucian Chen Clan would support the Great Sui Mountain Cliff Academy's return to the ranks of the Seventy-Two Academies. But as for the Lin Deer Academy that Great Li had built on Cloak Cloud Mountain, the Pure Confucian Chen Clan knew nothing about it and would not say a single word about it at the Literary Temple.
Liu Xianyang had some doubts at the time and frankly asked why the Pure Confucian Chen Clan, as a branch of the Secondary Sage lineage, would do such a thing. Weren't they worried about internal criticism?
Liu Xianyang's concern wasn't unfounded. A Deputy Cult Master at the Middle Earth Literary Temple, both in realm and seniority, was comparable to Chen Chun'an. In short, Chen Chun'an was a renowned Pure Confucian scholar, a pillar of the Secondary Sage lineage. But within the literary tradition of that lineage, Chen Chun'an's words and actions were still subject to many constraints.
Chen Chun'an seemed to be in a good mood then. He told Liu Xianyang that this was a scholarly transaction between himself and Chen Ping'an. If Chen Ping'an, relying only on his status as the closed-door disciple of the Literary Sage lineage, dared to speak such grandiose and empty words to him, Chen Chun'an, then it would be inappropriate. Finally, on that cliff face with the great river rushing below, Chen Chun'an patted Liu Xianyang's shoulder. The old gentleman said something fresh to the young man: "We scholars don't need to be ashamed of discussing interests. In our hearts, we must aim high and be visionary; in our hands, we must be substantial and heavy. Scholars must step out of their studies, walk among the common people, and speak truths that even those who haven't studied can understand."
Liu Xianyang blurted out, "Our comrades among scholars shouldn't just be scholars."
The old man was greatly gratified. He stroked his beard and smiled, saying, "Our Pure Confucian Chen Clan's family style and academic tradition are still quite good."
Ruan Xiu suddenly said, "You said you don't dwell on things much anymore, so why take that underground river route? It's not like there aren't direct ferries to Old Dragon City."
Liu Xianyang rubbed his cheeks with both hands. "Back then, the town was that small. I'd see the pretty girls from Fortune Street and Peach Leaf Alley, but I didn't dare think much about them. She was different. She was Chen Ping'an's neighbor, living right in Mud Vase Alley, in a house even worse than my ancestral home. She was still Song Bancai's maidservant, doing chores like carrying water and cooking every day. I felt I was good enough for her. If you ask if I really liked her much—well, yes, I did, quite a bit—but it wasn't to the point of losing sleep or being consumed by longing. Everything goes with fate. Whether we end up together or not, what does it matter?"
Ruan Xiu asked, "What kind of place is the Sword Qi Great Wall?"
Liu Xianyang thought for a moment. "It's a place where everything is scarce except for sword cultivators—there are lots of them. At the Sword Qi Great Wall, cultivation, life, and death don't seem like such big deals. So there are lots of drunkards there too. Sword cultivators and sword immortals all really like to drink. You could even say, in my impression, besides my hometown, the Sword Qi Great Wall is the place where experts are the least like experts."
Ruan Xiu nodded.
Liu Xianyang's expression turned awkward. After hesitating for a long time, he finally couldn't help saying, "Ruan Xiu, we've known each other for a long time, right? And our relationship is good, isn't it? But there are some things I really can't say much about. Chen Ping'an and you are both my friends. So on that certain matter, I try my best not to say the words you might want to hear."
Ruan Xiu looked up at Liu Xianyang and shook her head. "I don't want to hear those words you think I want to hear—like 'Ruan Xiu is better than Ning Yao,' or 'you and I are better friends than Ning Yao is.'"
Liu Xianyang looked relieved and laughed. "Miss Ruan is indeed Miss Ruan."
Ruan Xiu said, "Besides being curious about what the Sword Qi Great Wall is like now, the reason I asked was also to know how he's doing over there. If he's doing well because Ning Yao is there, then as his friend, I would naturally be very happy too."
Liu Xianyang was just about to follow Ruan Xiu's line and chat more, saying how Chen Ping'an was thriving at the Sword Qi Great Wall, when he suddenly stopped himself, silently warning himself not to say too much.
In a few years, when Liu Xianyang next returned home, he would legitimately become a direct lineage member of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect's Patriarch Hall. Master Ruan had explained this matter to his direct and nominal disciples after Liu Xianyang started his path of cultivation. But whether Liu Xianyang's ranking in the Patriarch Hall registry would be after the founding senior disciple Dong Gu or directly after Xie Ling—Master Ruan hadn't said, and Liu Xianyang hadn't asked. This had become a topic of lighthearted conversation among many nominal disciples of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect. The sect's general sentiment was well known: as long as one was sincere in practicing the sword, there weren't many taboos in speech. There were many guesses about Liu Xianyang's cultivation realm. After all, proper Confucian disciples who were also sword cultivators were rare.
Ruan Xiu asked curiously, "Why are you still willing to stay here and practice the sword and cultivate the Dao at the Dragon Spring Sword Sect? My father can't really teach you much."
Liu Xianyang said helplessly, "Chen Ping'an is too good at taking care of others but not very good at taking care of himself. If I'm too far away, I'd worry."
"'I can't stop worrying about Chen Ping'an.'"
Ruan Xiu softly repeated Liu Xianyang's heartfelt words. She smiled, put away her embroidered handkerchief, and tucked it into her sleeve. Fingers dusted with cake crumbs gently rubbed the hem of her sleeve. "Liu Xianyang, not everyone is qualified to say something like that. Maybe it used to be different, but from now on, it'll be very, very hard."
Liu Xianyang chuckled, "I can't stop worrying about Chen Ping'an."
Ruan Xiu squinted her eyes with a smile, pretending not to understand.
---
At the Prince's Mansion in Old Dragon City, the study.
On the desk were arranged some orthodox historical texts from different dynasties, poetry collections of literary masters, and painting and calligraphy albums. There were no immortal cultivation items placed as decorations.
Behind the desk were four standing screens: one was a map of the former Great Li domain, one a map of Treasure Vessel Continent, and the other two depicted the distribution of immortal sects and factions on Tongye Continent and North Ju Lu Continent.
Song Jixin, who had just returned to his southern fief from his northern hometown, sat alone in the study. He moved his chair to face the four screens.
Holding a delicately crafted miniature "Nourish Heart" pot in both hands, Song Jixin gently rotated it. The pot's inscription read "Mountain Imp."
Song Jixin twisted the small pot in his hands lightly. This item had been lost and then regained, considered returned to its rightful owner, though the means hadn't been glorious. But Song Jixin couldn't care less about what Fu Nanhua might think.
Back then, Fu Nanhua had entered Li Zhu Cave Heaven and bought this pot from Song Jixin with a pouch of Gold Essence Coins and an Old Dragon Rain Bestowing Pendant. The deal was actually fair enough. Of course, Fu Nanhua had still managed to get quite a bargain. Unlike many mountain treasures that were high in rank but useless to earthly immortals, this Nourish Heart Pot was a rare treasure of extremely high grade, most suitable for earthly immortals to cultivate their Dao heart and nourish their qi residence. Not only that, but the pot contained a separate miniature world and was also a spatial item. When Fu Nanhua got it, he had an expert examine it and was overjoyed, cherishing it greatly.
Yesterday, Fu Nanhua "caught up on old times" with the young prince, and Song Jixin mentioned this little pot. Today, Fu Nanhua had someone deliver it.
Song Jixin didn't truly covet a single Nourish Heart Pot. Rather, this trip back home had caused the young prince, who had always seemed diligent in governance but was actually just muddling through, to unconsciously raise his spirits. Starting as the "don't seek merit, just avoid fault" Song Jixin of Mud Vase Alley, he began to truly regard himself as the Great Li Prince "Song Mu." As for this little pot that had returned to his hands, Song Jixin loosened his grip on one hand and gently weighed it. This was the weight of worldly power.
Since ancient times, immortal cultivators had looked down on princes and marquises.
But today's Great Li Dynasty was different. It had already suppressed, restrained, and intimidated all the mountain factions of the continent until they could barely breathe. Even behemoths like the Shen Gao Sect or the True Mirror Sect—both sect-level powers with backing from other continents—what could they do? When they came to the small court sessions in the Great Li Emperor "Song He's" imperial study, they still had to act like half-subjects, needing to read his expressions, obediently sitting down and obediently standing up.
Song Jixin casually tossed the priceless little pot, catching it alternately with each hand.
Behind him on the table lay two secret files, intelligence collected by Song Jixin's order from the Bronze Man Dew Terrace. Song Jixin completely distrusted the Green Wave Pavilion spies, because the original master of the Green Wave Pavilion had been the Great Li Empress, now the Empress Dowager, and Song Jixin's biological mother. Although the Green Wave Pavilion, along with the Ox and Horse Stable, now belonged to the Imperial Preceptor, Song Jixin knew clearly that many of the old hands not purged from the Green Wave Pavilion knew exactly how to choose between Emperor Song He and the Empress Dowager on one side, and the isolated Prince Song Mu on the other. Any fool could figure that out.
But the Dew Terrace was an intelligence agency unique to the Great Li military, only answering to Imperial Uncle Song Changjing alone. Even the Imperial Preceptor Cui Chan had never interfered.
Song Jixin turned his head and glanced at the two files. One was a very detailed list of cultivators above the Upper Five Realms in North Ju Lu Continent. The other was a very brief file on "the youth Cui Dongshan."
On it: Prostrate Peak's Fire Dragon Patriarch, Tai Xia lineage's Li Yu (already passed away via dissolution of form), Zhi Fu Peak's Yuan Lingdian, and also the White Cloud and Peach Mountain lines. Fortunately, one of them was only in the Nascent Soul realm. Otherwise, Fire Dragon Patriarch's lineage would be too terrifying.
Heavenly Lord Xie Shi.
Bone Beach's Hemp Garment Sect, Sect Master Zhu Quan, two old masters.
Ghost Valley's Jing Guan City, Gao Cheng.
Among the peach groves were a Daoist temple and a Buddhist monastery, their true depths unknown for now.
Drifting Sword Lake, female sword immortal Li Cai. Already traveled far to the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Tai Hui Sword Sect, Sect Master Han Huaizi, old master Huang Tong, new Jade Abyss Realm sword immortal Liu Jinglong. Han Huaizi had also been at the Sword Qi Great Wall for many years.
Northern lands' number one sword immortal Bai Shang, Xu Xuan's teacher.
Gibbon Cry Mountain's Ji Yue, already fallen in battle, exchanging lives with a Tenth-Realm martial artist, Gu You. This was a great loss for all of North Ju Lu.
Water Dragon Sect, Northern Branch Sun Jie, Southern Branch Shao Jingzhi.
Qiong Lin Sect's Sect Master.
Da Yuan Dynasty's Chong Xuan Department's Cloud Sky Palace, Yang Clan head.
Pure Coolness Sect's He Xiaoliang.
Wild cultivator at the Immortal Realm, life and death unknown for now, Huang Juran.
Additionally, there were many similar entities like that Peach Forest Daoist Temple and monastery, as well as reclusive experts seldom seen in the world who were quietly in seclusion. The Great Li Dynasty's intelligence struggled to truly penetrate into the heartland of North Ju Lu Continent to investigate those long-sealed truths. There were also some secret histories, records of all living and deceased sword immortals' journeys to the Sword Qi Great Wall.
As for that Cui Dongshan, the Dew Terrace had only given a blank page.
However, there were two sheets of paper that had been transferred from the Ministry of Justice to this study. One briefly described where this person had appeared, stayed, and his words and deeds. Most of his time was spent studying at academies. He first appeared in the unbroken, unshattered Li Zhu Cave Heaven. Later, he took the deposed crown prince of the Lu Kingdom, a youth named Yu Lu, and a girl renamed Xie Xie, to the Great Sui Academy. There, he clashed with Cai Jingshen, a Grand Supplicant of the Great Sui Gao Clan, causing a magnificent rain of treasures over the capital. He later chased down a Qi Condensation bottleneck sword cultivator of the Zhu Ying Dynasty with Ruan Xiu, successfully killing him on the border of Zhu Ying.
The concluding remarks on the first page of the Ministry of Justice file stated: this person breaks through realms extremely quickly, possesses an extraordinary number of treasures, and has an extremely strange temperament.
The second page was densely packed, entirely filled with descriptions of those treasures.
Song Jixin averted his gaze, turning back to stare at the four screens. The Dao-seeking cultivators who now came and went from the Prince's Mansion were a motley crew, many hiding their identities. If they didn't reveal themselves, Song Jixin couldn't guess who they were no matter how hard he racked his brain. There were secret Patriarch Hall offerings from the Tongye Sect who had been lurking in Treasure Vessel Continent for years, and business managers from the North Ju Lu Qiong Lin Sect operating in Treasure Vessel Continent.
At first, Song Jixin felt like a fool, trying his best to say appropriate things. But when he later reviewed his words, he was shocked to find that what he thought was appropriate was actually the most inappropriate. He guessed it made quite a few world-renouncing experts, who had taken the risk of revealing their identities, feel like they were talking to a brick wall when conversing with this young prince.
Because Song Jixin had never truly figured out what he wanted.
Return to the original name "Song He"? Fight his younger brother for the dragon throne? Song Jixin had no interest. Or rather, Song Jixin was very afraid of repeating past mistakes. Anyone who had read a few history books knew that brotherly strife in imperial families killed many people. The current Son of Heaven and the Empress Dowager were ultimately his close kin. Song Jixin realized his life had always been so messy. He couldn't love anyone purely, couldn't hate anyone completely, and in the end, he had to repay his debts one by one: to the supervising official Song Yuzhang, to neighbor Chen Ping'an, to maidservant Zhigui...
He couldn't go on like this.
Song Jixin tightened his grip on the Nourish Heart Pot and abruptly stood up.
Zhigui had been standing silently at the study door for a long time. Only now did she speak: "Master, someone seeks an audience. They've been waiting a while. It's the direct daughter of the Yun Lin Jiang Clan, Fu Nanhua's nominal wife. Mm, the woman looks a bit plump. But that's just a disguise technique from an expert. Her real appearance is... passable."
Song Jixin smiled and walked toward the door.
Walking shoulder to shoulder with her, he asked quietly, "Snake gallstones, Gold Essence Coins—how much do you need?"
Zhigui's eyes lit up. She laughed, "Master, the same as with silver taels in the old days: the more, the better. But these resources are strictly controlled by the court now. The imperial treasury won't just hand them over."
Song Jixin smiled, "Don't worry. I'll find some trivial pretext. I can make a deal with the South Mountain Lord, using Fan Junmao as a cover, and try to intercept half of it and give it to you."
Zhigui seemed surprised and secretly glanced at Song Jixin. The master seemed somewhat different these days.
Her gaze wandered, but she didn't reveal any hidden truths.
Nowadays, there were very few people in Treasure Vessel Continent who could make her feel wary, and there happened to be one nearby—the one she least wanted to provoke.
After Song Jixin left the study.
From behind the four screens stepped out a white-clad youth. Squatting by the wall corner was a wooden-faced child who hadn't breathed at all from start to finish.
Cui Dongshan held a folding fan, lightly tapping his back with it. With his other hand, he flipped his wrist and produced a writing brush, drawing circles and markings on one of the screens. For the list of North Ju Lu's foundations, he added a few more names of Upper Five Realm cultivators. Then he leaned over the desk, flipping through the three pages about himself. First, he supplemented the two pages from the Ministry of Justice file, filling in many unknown treasure names. Finally, on the blank page from the Ox and Horse Stable, he wrote a single line: "Cui Chan is an old bastard. Go ask him if you don't believe me."
After writing, he seemed quite satisfied.
He beckoned for the child he called "Old Gao" to come close. Cui Dongshan bent over and started painting on the child's face with his brush.
Without looking up, he smiled, "Ma Kuxuan, you've gotten too used to enjoying the benefits of disregarding rules. One day, you'll suffer for it."
Ma Kuxuan revealed his form, leaning against the study doorframe. "How much suffering? Death and destruction of my Dao body? Karmic entanglements? Imperial Preceptor, forget about others—those frogs at the bottom of a well, splashing in shallow water. But surely you understand: this is the thing I fear the least?"
Cui Dongshan continued painting a turtle on the child's face. "On the way here, I saw a righteous-looking scholar. He had some talent for reading people and the overall situation. Confronted by a squad of Great Li iron cavalry with drawn blades, he pretended to face death with dignity, willing to die for his country. He almost managed to swindle a reputation for noble integrity. So I had the swords sheathed and only had the hilt of a blade smash one of that scholar's fingers. I said only a few words to that official gentleman: 'In this life, there are not only life and death. Between them lie countless tribulations.' As long as he endured the pain of ten shattered fingers, I assured him, I would guarantee that for the rest of his life in that vassal state, he would be a literary leader in life and receive the posthumous title 'Wenzhen' in death. Want to know what happened?"
Ma Kuxuan frowned.
Cui Dongshan finished his painting and nodded, pleased. Truly strokes of genius, a manifestation of lifelong skill. He finally turned around. "You say you're not afraid of death and destruction—I believe you. But you don't even understand the power of karmic entanglement. As a frog at the bottom of a well, what right do you have to speak to me of fear or fearlessness? Take the matter of Ma Lanhua, for instance. Whose arrangement was that? Don't think that just because you have high cultivation and great skill that you're formidable. How many can kill me? Even if you one day reach the highest realms, I could still make you fret for a thousand years with a mere casual gesture. So, be smart. Make things easier for me. Otherwise, when the day comes that you truly know fear, what benefit is that to me? One of the fundamental tenets of my Doctrine of Practical Affairs is to try to keep people from being stupid. Ensure that those who seek profit can obtain profit."
Ma Kuxuan nodded. "That makes sense."
Cui Dongshan sat in his chair, twirling his folding fan. He grinned, "A few days without a beating, and you start beating up a beggar. Isn't that interesting?"
Ma Kuxuan laughed. "Today I can beat a beggar. Tomorrow I might beat a rich man. A man needs something to look forward to, or he might as well be a beggar his whole life."
Cui Dongshan feigned enlightenment and nodded vigorously. "That makes sense."
Ma Kuxuan clasped his fists. "I hope I can receive the Imperial Preceptor's teachings again in the future."
After Ma Kuxuan left, Cui Dongshan shook his fan with leisurely ease. On the fan surface were written four large characters in running script: "Conquer with Virtue."
Cui Dongshan stretched out a finger and made random gestures in the air, as if writing. He said smugly, "A vertical stroke three inches long, like a mountain a thousand ren high. A dash of flying white, a rainbow piercing the void..."
He turned to look at the child standing silently by the desk. "Whose child is this, so handsome?"
The child, whose entire face was covered in scribbles, suddenly spoke: "Master, I want to learn to play Go."
Cui Dongshan rolled his eyes. "Teach fists and footwork, and the master starves. If I teach you Go, what benefit do I get?"
The child said, "I can play Go with Master."
Cui Dongshan shook his head without giving an answer, only muttering an incomprehensible strange remark: "A lost hairpin, a forgotten sword—they will eventually return."
Painting a mark on a boat to find a lost sword isn't childishness; worrying about the sky falling isn't laughable.
Cui Dongshan began to rest with his eyes closed.
The child started to stare blankly into space.
Half an hour later, Song Jixin returned alone to the study. Zhigui had said she wanted to go out of the city for a stroll.
Seeing the white-clad youth who had taken over his space, Song Jixin paused, then continued walking. He picked a chair and sat down, smiling. "Master Cui certainly doesn't stand on ceremony."
Old Dragon City wasn't a place where Dao-seekers could come and go as they pleased.
Cui Dongshan opened his eyes. "Do you know who I am?"
Song Jixin nodded. "Some guesses."
Cui Dongshan tapped his shoulder with his fan. "Old Gao, tell him who I am. I'm afraid he might guess wrong."
The child spoke in a wooden, deliberate tone: "My master is Dongshan."
Cui Dongshan folded his fan and suddenly burst into laughter, rocking his entire chair back and forth.
Abruptly, he composed his expression and stood up.
Compelled by the oppression and intangible pull, Song Jixin involuntarily stood up as well.
Cui Dongshan said in a deep voice, "At this point, I won't beat around the bush with you. My name is Cui Dongshan. That Cui Chan is my most unaccomplished nominal disciple's disciple."
Song Jixin bowed, whispering, "Imperial Preceptor, why must you be so harsh with yourself?"
Cui Dongshan fanned himself with his hand. "What dispels worry? Self-mockery alone."
The three pages on the desk turned to ash, scattering in the wind.
Cui Dongshan circled around the desk and walked to a window near Song Jixin. He said softly, "Qi Jingchun had high expectations for you. Why haven't you taken things to heart all these years?"
Song Jixin remained silent.
Cui Dongshan sighed. "Song Jixin, Song Jixin. Do you know that a fate like yours, if it were in any of those storybooks, you'd be the first character to appear in the first chapter, and also the last character in the final chapter. Why don't you just strive harder? Your little brain just doesn't catch on! Look at Ma Kuxuan from Apricot Blossom Alley—he has a cat by his side. You're even more impressive: even before leaving home, you had a Wang Zhu by your side. Add in Xie Ling from Peach Leaf Alley, and your own ancestors could step right out of the genealogy books. People like you are little heavens by divine mandate!"
Song Jixin's face turned sour. What on earth was this nonsense?
The white-clad youth looked up, striking a pose of silent tears. Feeling the mood wasn't quite right, he snapped his fingers.
Old Gao understood and began to hum a little tune—a cheerful story about how delicious stinky tofu was.
In Cui Dongshan's view, a person has two good ways to live: one is by relying on the favor of Heaven—small worries in the short term, no great long-term concerns; eyes open, eyes closed, comfortable every day. The other is by relying on the favor of one's ancestors—having a skill to rely on, not worrying about wind, sun, or rain; having money, so one can eat sugar-coated hawthorns and stinky tofu, even one in each hand, one bite of hawthorn, one bite of stinky tofu.
The poor young prince stood there, his thoughts unknown.
---
On the square outside the gate of the Clear Hue Peak Patriarch Hall, a grand martial arts gathering was convened. To show the importance, a table and four long benches were set up, laden with fruits and pastries.
Of course, the Patriarch Hall gate wasn't opened casually, nor could one just move things out the door. So the table and benches had been specially brought from the Ancestor Mountain of Drunken Mountain.
Those present were all the big shots of the East Flower Mountain Branch under the Dragon Spring Commandery General Headquarters.
Branch Master Pei Qian sat in the main seat, back to the Patriarch Hall gate, arms crossed. On the table before her lay a wooden token—the Alliance Master Command Token of the Dragon Spring Commander General Headquarters, entrusted to Pei Qian's keeping by Senior Sister Bao Ping for years.
The recently promoted Deputy Branch Master, Drunken Mountain Right Protector Zhou Mili, and Branch Supplicant Chen Nuanshu attended this assembly. Branch Supplicant Chen Lingjun was absent and had already been marked down by Branch Master Pei Qian in the ledger.
The pink-skirted little girl who managed all the door keys of Drunken Mountain, and the little girl in black holding a small golden flat-cane and a green bamboo walking staff, sat side by side on a long bench.
The Sub-Branch's dormitory-owner at the Academy, Li Huai, with members Liu Guan and Ma Lian from the Mountain Cliff Academy, squeezed together on another bench. Liu Guan and Ma Lian were not only Li Huai's schoolmates at the Great Sui Mountain Cliff Academy but also friends from the same dormitory. Liu Guan was from a commoner family; Ma Lian came from a powerful Great Sui clan, the Ma family being related by marriage to the Great Sui Ge Yang Gao family. Both Liu Guan and Ma Lian were highly regarded by the Academy masters as seeded scholars of Great Sui.
Then there was the one who had been elevated to the position of Riding Dragon Lane Right Protector, originally the Incense Fire Little Person from Mantou Mountain, later the Dragon Province City God Tower. Because of his small stature, the Branch Master had specially allowed him to sit on the table, face to face with her.
The Riding Dragon Lane Left Protector lay under the long bench.
The General Headquarters' Alliance Master, Li Baoping, and the Branch Honorary Master, the white goose Cui Dongshan, were both absent from this assembly.
Pei Qian coughed, sweeping her gaze across everyone. "I've called you together today to discuss three matters. This isn't a joke... Zhou Mili, put the melon seeds back first. Liu Guan, sit up straight."
The little girl reluctantly put down the handful of melon seeds she was clutching. Liu Guan resentfully straightened up.
The Branch Master was truly impartial and devoid of emotion!
Pei Qian outlined three matters. The first was announcing several rules for the branch, all fundamental principles for navigating the martial world, which she had copied from martial arts novels. They mainly revolved around her master's teachings: possessing a skill was the foundation of a martial artist; protecting the innocent and upholding justice was the martial virtue. Beyond fists and blades, how to distinguish right from wrong, accurately break situations, and perfectly conclude affairs—these were things a true hero needed to ponder deeply. "When you see an injustice, you must roar," that was necessary, but not enough.
Then came the changes and promotions within the branch, giving reasons for each. She particularly praised Zhou Mili and the Incense Fire Little Person for their punctuality in reporting for duty, and severely criticized the Riding Dragon Lane Left Protector for his lazy negligence.
The last matter: she and Li Huai would soon travel to North Ju Lu Continent. This was the branch's first proper journey down the mountain, so they needed to pool their wisdom and share their own experiences of navigating the martial world. Chen Nuanshu was tasked with taking notes. After compiling them into a booklet, several copies would be transcribed, so everyone would have one.
After finishing the serious matters, Pei Qian waved her hand grandly: "Eat melon seeds!"
At Clear Hue Peak, all was harmonious and joyful.
---
Accompanied by high winds and birds of the sky, the Hemp Garment Sect's cross-continent ferry, which had been towed through the sea of clouds by guardian spirits, docked smoothly at Bone Beach Ferry. The Hemp Garment Sect had two registered Drunken Mountain Supplicants: Du Wensi, a Nascent Soul cultivator stationed with the Sect Master Zhu Quan at Ghost Valley's Green Hut Town, and Pang Lanxi, a direct-line sword cultivator from the Wood Garment Sect Patriarch Hall. Chen Lingjun, carrying a walking staff and backpacking a bamboo basket, stepped off the ferry. Many cultivators who had journeyed south to Treasure Vessel Continent and were finally returning home flew off the ferry with a great clamor, like dumplings being thrown into a pot, arguing with some cultivators at the dock. Chen Lingjun was enlightened by the sight. The Dao-seekers of North Ju Lu indeed lived up to their reputation—they were all brave heroes, very forthright. If this were his own Oxhorn Mountain Ferry, how many would have been beaten down by Dragon Spring Sword Sect and Great Li cultivators?
Chen Lingjun first went to the increasingly desolate Mural City and bought a set of "Outlining Version of Goddess Paintings" as a visiting gift for the Hemp Garment Sect. The Drunken Mountain Patriarch Hall had advanced a sum of immortal money to Chen Lingjun for these expenses, but he hadn't used a single snowflake coin from that little treasury. Joking—would Master Chen be short of that money? In the old days back in the Yu Jiang region, when he traveled, his immortal coins clinked and clanked in his pouch like thunder. But after arriving in Dragon Spring Commandery, Master Chen mellowed his violent temper a bit; otherwise, with his explosive rage... he would have already gotten himself killed by some lucky punch.
Sometimes, Chen Lingjun, who loved to indulge in wild thoughts, felt that all Qi cultivators under heaven should spend some time in the small town and humbly learn from him the lessons of navigating the martial world.
At the imposing Hemp Garment Sect, Sect Master Zhu Quan didn't show her face. Neither of the two old masters were on the mountain—one had been traveling abroad for years. As for the other, the Law-Keeper Ancestor Yan Su, he had been busy for years reinforcing the mountain-protecting formation alongside visiting elders from the Middle Earth parent sect. Pang Lanxi was in seclusion. Du Wensi was still at Green Hut Town struggling with those skeleton creatures. Chen Lingjun hadn't met any acquaintances. He grumbled inwardly that his master's face didn't carry enough weight—the Sect Master hadn't even personally received him and held a welcoming banquet. Meanwhile, he labored to maintain the appearance of someone who had seen great things, all while carefully looking around, remembering how he had nearly been tricked back in the small-town forge when sparring with Master Ruan, who had been disguised as a saint of the Wind and Snow Temple but dressed like a common farmer. Wasn't that obviously setting a trap? So for this trip, Chen Lingjun felt it was safer to take things easy.
Chen Lingjun delivered the gift. The person who received him and the gift was a man named Wei Yusong, genial and amiable, who claimed to be an accountant who suffered daily grievances and had the least authority to speak. Chen Lingjun felt he had met a fellow sufferer, but he kept reminding himself not to casually call anyone "brother" on this trip. Along the way, Chen Lingjun had studied some books, mostly about precautions in dangerous mountainous and watery regions. He hadn't looked closely at the entries for places like the Hemp Garment Sect and Spring Dew Garden, which his master had personally visited and established ties with. He found Wei Yusong compatible and a good candidate for a sworn brotherhood rite. Seizing the opportunity, Chen Lingjun hurriedly fished out one of his master's booklets, flipped to the section on the Hemp Garment Sect, and indeed found Wei Yusong. His master had made several notes about him, describing him as a senior with exceptional skill in business, the Hemp Garment Sect's god of wealth. The master warned that Chen Lingjun should treat him with respect and talk less nonsense.
Learning that this person was a high-ranking manager of the sect's finances, Chen Lingjun knew what to do. On any immortal mountain, three types of people were not to be trifled with: the ones in charge of sect rules (certainly with iron fists), the ones managing money (definitely no pushover, heart black and ruthless), and the very young direct-line disciples of the Patriarch Hall.
Chen Lingjun said goodbye to Wei Yusong, declining his invitation to stay, and not daring to trouble him to see him off to the mountain gate. As he descended the mountain alone, he encountered a plain-featured woman on the path who seemed to be staring at him oddly. Chen Lingjun felt uncomfortable: "I'm not Wei Xin—what are you staring at?" The woman had no sense of propriety and furtively followed Chen Lingjun all the way. When they reached the mountain gate, Chen Lingjun got spooked and almost changed his mind about going back up the mountain to stay a few days at the Hemp Garment Sect.
At the mountain gate, when the woman, who wore a saber at her waist, identified herself as Zhu Quan, Chen Lingjun's knees buckled. His body swayed, and he barely managed to steady himself.
Zhu Quan laughed. "Wei Xin has already sent a flying sword message to Wood Garment Mountain. If you encounter any trouble on the river journey in the future, you can report the name 'Zhu Quan of the Hemp Garment Sect.' It might not necessarily save your life, but it can definitely help avenge you. Of course, it's best if there's no trouble at all. But that will be hard. To travel the martial world in our North Ju Lu without getting tangled up in a bunch of troubles—what kind of experience would that be?"
Chen Lingjun stammered thanks. Zhu Quan waved her hand. Chen Lingjun took his leave. Zhu Quan suddenly asked, "When will Chen Ping'an return from the Sword Qi Great Wall?"
Chen Lingjun shook his head. "Not sure. My master never gives a definite date for returning home whenever he travels."
Zhu Quan glanced at Chen Lingjun's bamboo basket and walking staff and laughed heartily. "All of you from Drunken Mountain travel the world dressed like this?"
Chen Lingjun nodded vigorously.
Zhu Quan suddenly sighed. "I envy... his freedom."
Chen Lingjun couldn't understand these cryptic words spoken by those at the mountain's peak, hidden in the clouds. But he could at least tell that this female sect master, famous across the continent, had a good impression of his master. Otherwise, she wouldn't have made a special trip from Ghost Valley back to Wood Garment Mountain. For ordinary mountain immortal sects, the greatest emphasis was on equality based on status. Hosting and receiving guests was governed by complex rituals. Having Wei Yusong receive him, Chen Lingjun, was already more than enough to satisfy him.
A sect master in the Upper Five Realms who dared to confront Ghost Valley's Gao Cheng for so many years—such a female hero showing up in person! So after leaving Wood Garment Mountain, Chen Lingjun walked a bit on air.
According to the planned route, Chen Lingjun took a Spring Dew Garden ferry to the eastern mouth of the Ji Du River. The ferry manager was Gold Core Cultivator Song Lanqiao, who now held a seat in the Spring Dew Garden Patriarch Hall. After Chen Lingjun paid his respects, Song Lanqiao was excessively polite, not only arranging for him to stay in the celestial-grade guest room but also personally accompanying him for a long chat. In his words, aside from a genuine warmth toward Chen Ping'an and Drunken Mountain, there was a deference and humility that made Chen Lingjun even more uncomfortable.
These days, the alliance consisted of Drunken Mountain, Cloak Cloud Mountain, the Hemp Garment Sect, and the Spring Dew Garden. Wei Yusong of the Hemp Garment Sect and Tang Xi of the Spring Dew Garden were managers in charge of specific matters. Song Lanqiao was an ally of Tang Xi. That Song Lanqiao had become a member of the Spring Dew Garden Patriarch Hall was entirely due to the young Sword Immortal Chen. Moreover, Chen Ping'an had gotten along well with Song Lanqiao's own Dao master. Song Lanqiao had rarely seen his master hold another outsider in such long-lasting regard—it was beyond just a sword immortal relationship.
The farther Chen Lingjun traveled from home, the more he missed it.
He missed everyone, even the old blind Daoist priest who cultivated in a straw hut on Yellow Lake Mountain.
As the ferry departed, Wei Xin had spoken some words: "For a Dao-seeker traveling abroad, it's not too hard to kill with technique or to suppress with power. The real difficulty lies in winning people's hearts."
For the first time, Chen Lingjun carefully read the contents of the booklets he had previously overlooked. Then he went to the observation deck, leaned against the railing, and stared into space. A half moon hung high in the sky, half-hidden in the sea of clouds—far yet near, as if the ferry only needed to change course slightly to crash into it, as simply as walking through an archway.
Whether the master was on Drunken Mountain or not made a difference. Chen Lingjun had already felt this.
But unless he left Drunken Mountain, unless he took this journey, it was hard to understand why it was different or what the difference was.
When he had lived with his master day and night, Chen Ping'an's realm and status were somehow easy to overlook. It was only now, walking the same paths and rivers his master had traveled, that Chen Lingjun realized that the Mud Vase Alley youth he had once unwillingly followed had become truly formidable.
Chen Lingjun collected his thoughts, packed his belongings, said goodbye to Song Lanqiao, and left the ferry midway. He went to Sui Jia City, heading straight for the Fire God Temple.
Through the secret machinations of the Dragon Lord of the Cang Yun Lake Dragon Palace, the Fire God Temple, once reduced to ruins, had been rebuilt. The local government had spent heavily to recast a painted statue, and incense offerings flourished. Chen Lingjun chose a late night hour to respectfully knock and visit. He saw a man who seemed not very high in realm. Chen Lingjun produced many immortal wines. The man, revealing his true form, was overjoyed. But he didn't ask a single question about Chen Ping'an's current affairs.
Chen Lingjun felt this elder brother was to his liking—the same as himself, full of the spirit of the martial world!
And so, no persuasion was needed for them to drink.
His master had not only written in his books and booklets but had also specifically instructed Chen Lingjun orally that this local deity was his friend, Chen Ping'an's, and that a debt of drink was owed.
At the Cang Yun Lake Dragon Palace, upon receiving the report from the Fire God Temple's temple keeper, the Dragon Lord Yin Hou rushed over late that night. He brought no trusted followers. A distance of eight hundred li was, for a Dragon Lord whose entire domain included Sui Jia City, like strolling through his own backyard.
Seeing the green-clad little boy, face flushed with wine and gesticulating wildly as he rambled, Dragon Lord Yin Hou was taken aback. That Sword Immortal Chen, how did he have such a friend?
Still, the drinking was quite enjoyable.
However, after Yin Hou arrived, the man from the Fire God Temple treated him with courtesy but no particular warmth. It was with Chen Lingjun that he drank freely.
At dawn, Chen Lingjun left the Fire God Temple and went to the Golden Crow Palace to visit Liu Zhiqing, a Golden Core bottleneck sword cultivator.
Again, he was received with great ceremony and respectfully escorted to the peak where Liu Zhiqing was in seclusion.
Chen Lingjun met Liu Zhiqing.
A beautiful youth with a celestial countenance, a gold hairpin in his hair, dressed in a snow-white robe—one would feel that all the famous mountains and great rivers under heaven awaited the visitation of such a Dao-seeking person.
Liu Zhiqing smiled and asked if he wanted tea. Chen Lingjun said no, it was fine. Liu Zhiqing didn't press. Neither of them had much to say. Liu Zhiqing wasn't one for socializing among mountain cultivators. After some polite formalities, Chen Lingjun ran out of things to say. Liu Zhiqing didn't detain him. Chen Lingjun stood up to leave. Liu Zhiqing offered to escort him to the mountain base; Chen Lingjun, knowing the man was in seclusion, quickly declined and dashed down the mountain, leaving the Golden Crow Palace. As for the Golden Crow Palace Master waiting at the mountain base, Chen Lingjun also declined any banquet, swiftly going through the rituals: apologizing, thanking, and promising a visit next time. Chen Lingjun was getting quite skilled at this.
From there, he headed to the Spring Dew Garden, but he didn't take any immortal ferry.
Naturally drawn to water, Chen Lingjun chose an ordinary boat. The boat traveled through a landscape painting. Amid the cries of apes on both banks, a light boat passed through myriad mountains.
Upon reaching the Spring Dew Garden region, Chen Lingjun didn't rush to find his old acquaintance Song Lanqiao for a chat. Instead, following his illustrated guide, he first toured the landscape of the great river's mouth on both banks. Then he visited the Spring Dew Garden proper, toured the Jade Ying Cliff, and finally went to the Ant Shop, founded by his master. The acting manager was running things well; business was thriving. Chen Lingjun worked there as a shop assistant for two days.
On that night, the entire continent suddenly offered a sword sacrifice.
The whole Spring Dew Garden instantly burst into brilliant light. Chen Lingjun quickly opened the shop and looked up. The streets were bustling, everyone saying that a sword immortal had fallen at the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Far away from home by ten thousand miles, Chen Lingjun thought of his master, who was even farther from home. He sat on the doorstep, his cheeks resting on his hands, his expression gloomy.
---
On the southern battlefield of the Sword Qi Great Wall, a golden river appeared for the third time.
A young man carried a sword case on his back, filled with borrowed swords from the forges.
Chen Ping'an stood atop the city wall, surveyed the battlefield for a moment, then took a single step forward. His body plummeted toward the earth. During the descent, he rolled up his sleeves. Just before landing, he bent his knees slightly, stepping into the void. But his entire body suddenly surged forward. Behind him, a huge crater collapsed into the ground. Deep underground, muffled thunder rumbled.
No sword to ride, but he rode the wind.
Like an arrow, he shot hundreds of paces away from the city wall in an instant. His hands pressed against the heads of two fiendish Qi cultivators. A gentle shove sent their two skull-shattered corpses flying.
When Chen Ping'an landed gracefully, all the sword cultivators on the surrounding battlefield instinctively backed away, clearing a path for the young Hidden Official who was charging into battle for the third time.
Now, on the Sword Qi Great Wall, there was no more resentment, because the young Hidden Official was indeed a sword cultivator, and moreover, one who could kill.
A fiendish martial cultivator, clad in heavy armor and wielding a great halberd, thrust straight at him. The young Hidden Official charged forward in a straight line, casually smashing the halberd with his head, then shattering the opponent's body with a single punch. As his foot struck the ground with a slight heaviness, before his fist form was even fully raised, his fist intent had already been unleashed.
Within a radius of over ten paces around Chen Ping'an, fist intent flowed like a flood. But not only that—a second, larger circle of fist energy rose further away, surging and crashing. Layer upon layer of fist forms, layer upon layer of divine intent. Circle begetting circle, like layers of moon halo.
Center Martial Man, like the sun at high noon.