Chapter 673: Needlework
Chen Ping'an sat on the steps, rolled up his trouser legs, took off his boots, and placed them into his white jade Inch Realm storage treasure.
As for the other two Inch Realm treasures, the one that Yan Ming had lent him had already been sent to the Alchemy Workshop for a master to repair. The remaining one, a Daoist token Inch Realm treasure, had been obtained in exchange from Sun Qing, the master of the Caique Manor, along with an extra thirty Grain Rain coins as a bonus. If all merchants under heaven were as straightforward as Caique Manor, Chen Ping'an would have no complaints even if he had to carry a Manor on his back while fleeing. Of course, if manors could be refined into bonsai like the Spring Banners Studio or the Plum Garden, the more the better.
That Inch Realm treasure, which had some connection with the Daoist Sun from the Azure Underworld, had already been entrusted to A Liang for delivery to the Daoist sage.
The Inch Realm treasure Chen Ping'an currently carried had been taken to the Sword Worship Pavilion. After all the portraits of sword immortals had been gathered, the ancient Sword Immortal had taken the treasure away. When it was returned to Chen Ping'an, a secret restriction had already been set up, so that even Chen Ping'an, its owner, could not open it. He had no idea what the ancient Sword Immortal was really up to.
Following this path that was truly worthy of the name "Spirit Path," Chen Ping'an made his way alone towards the depths of the prison, gently rolling up his sleeves.
The human body is a microcosm of heaven and earth, and heaven and earth are a macrocosm of the human body.
This saying could not simply be dismissed as a general Daoist platitude.
This nameless prison held a total of seventy demon cultivators, including six Great Demons at the Upper Five Realms. Not counting the three cultivators below the Fifth Realm, including a youth in a water prison, the majority were Earth Immortal cultivators, all fierce and ferocious characters. Whether in the Barren Wastes or the Haoran World, they would be formidable figures who dominated their respective territories, formidable figures who had killed sword cultivators in battle without exception. There were even some who had destroyed more than one lifebound flying sword.
As Chen Ping'an walked along, the old deaf man was probably no longer standing guard, so several Upper Five Realm Great Demons that had previously been lying low and hiding emerged one after another from the foggy barriers of their cells. Approaching the sword-light grilles, sometimes in their true forms, sometimes in human shape, they sized up the young man in the green robe, barefoot with rolled-up sleeves, who could even speak the elegant language of the Barren Wastes.
One Great Demon, transformed into human form, stood near the grille of his cell. He appeared as a middle-aged man using an illusion technique, wearing a green robe and long gown, his features quite refined and elegant, resembling a scholar. A bamboo flute was tucked into his waistband. His demeanor was bright and pure, as if a thousand years of moonlight lingered around him, unwilling to depart. He tapped his fingers lightly against a beam of sword light. The moment his skin touched the sword light, his flesh and blood were instantly torn and burned, sizzling as they emitted a strange, refreshing fragrance that had nothing of meat or fish about it. He smiled and asked, "Youngster, is the Sword Qi Great Wall about to fall?"
Chen Ping'an stopped, looked directly at the Great Demon through the sword-light grille, and nodded. "That wouldn't be good news for any of us."
According to the records from the Summer Resort, this Great Demon, who went by the alias Yun Qing, had a true form of a colorful phoenix. Its feathers were excellent materials for refining Daoist feathered robes, so when the Great Demon had reached the Upper Five Realm, it had naturally possessed a dharma robe that was equivalent to a half-divine tool in rank. However, the feathers of the Great Demon Yun Qing grew extremely slowly. In the seven hundred years he had been imprisoned here, the Alchemy Workshop had only managed to gather seven, which had been sold piece by piece to three Daoist sects.
The Great Demon Yun Qing smiled and asked, "Has Yue Qing died? Has Shou Chen reached the Upper Five Realm?"
Chen Ping'an answered truthfully, "Yue Qing hasn't died. Shou Chen has become the youngest Sword Immortal in your Barren Wastes."
Yun Qing nodded, offered a word of thanks, and his figure slowly retreated into the thick fog, followed by what seemed to be a faint sigh.
As Chen Ping'an passed the next cell, the Great Demon within, who was in his true form, violently crashed against the sword-light grille. The grille was solid and indestructible, causing the fog inside the cell to roil and churn. The Great Demon's effort was futile, only raising a bloody wind and rain of bloodshed as his skin burst open.
A giant loach in the mud, feeding on creatures like flood dragons in an attempt to transform into a dragon.
Chen Ping'an asked, "Is there any shortcut or secret technique on the path to dragon transformation for you aquatic creatures? Like how the celestial fox can attain the Dao—as long as the Heavenly Master's seal is stamped on a fox's skin, it can avoid the heavenly tribulation."
Many ghostly yin creatures crossing rivers or scaling mountains needed to walk with people blessed with yin virtue to have a chance of escaping the pursuit of the local deities. Countless ghosts and yin spirits were blocked from returning home, from their paths forward, by mountains and rivers. Not only that, there were even rumors that many flood-dragon creatures, failing at the last step of river-walking, would resort to various tricks, seeking out all kinds of shelter—seals and jade seals, even hiding themselves between two lines of text in some sage's book. But some things, Chen Ping'an had only seen with his own eyes or experienced personally; many of these tales seemed like strange hearsay and he had never had a chance to verify them.
The Great Demon suddenly fell silent. Slowly he transformed into human form, becoming a withered old man. "Little bastard, give me a jin of blood in exchange!"
Chen Ping'an said, "Half a jin."
The Great Demon thought the youth was only joking to relieve his boredom and had never expected this kid to have a head full of water and actually bargain with him!
The old man gripped the sword-light grille with both hands, his eyes shining brightly, and burst into loud laughter. "Looking at you, you're not that old, but you have a strong blood and qi. I'll take just a few cash of your heart's essence blood. Eight cash of the blood that clings to your internal organs and connects to your soul-path. As for ordinary blood, at least one jin! If you pay up without hesitation, your grandpa here will teach you a priceless transcendent technique. Not just flood-dragon descendants, but any water spirit can transform into a dragon without obstruction!"
Chen Ping'an remained silent the whole time, standing in place, waiting for a moment until some surprise appeared on the Great Demon's expression, then said, "Is the door-opening technique of the Yeluo River's secret transmission so insignificant? I have seen your master's methods, and his skills are far more than that."
The Great Demon, separated from him only by one grille, had actually already silently cast his divine ability. It was a rather exquisite method of pulling and dragging, like a water ghost. Spirits and ghosts use the line of sight to probe into the mind; if the mind stirs just a little, then the five viscera and six entrails all shake, the soul is captured, and one becomes a puppet. That Yeluo River was the undisputed great water domain of the Barren Wastes, where the water spirit faction was powerful.
Certain water ghosts, water immortals, and the like in large lakes and rivers liked to use a sinister "substitute life-exchange method," dragging people into the water, upending yin and yang. Mostly, they used this method to delude people's minds. So there were always people by the water who, once their yang qi was insufficient, their ancestral blessings thin, and their luck was bad, would, for no apparent reason, throw themselves into the water.
The old man withdrew his injured hands. The wounds healed at an extremely fast rate. The bloody mist burned away by the sword light did not leak outside the cell even a little. The old man sneered, "If not for the restriction, having smelled even a trace of your blood qi, you, kid, would already be lying on the ground, experiencing both pleasure and pain."
Chen Ping'an said, "If I weren't a Sword Immortal, I'd already be eating a pot of braised loach and tofu by now. Water ginseng is a great tonic and can also cure hangovers."
The old man's face darkened.
This Great Demon, with the alias Qing Qiu in the Barren Wastes, shared the same sound as "green loach," which was a real waste of such a good name like Qing Qiu.
Chen Ping'an asked, "Are we doing business or not?"
The old man's form suddenly changed. Inside the cell, the fishy smell churned. The Great Demon revealed his true body, his eyes as large as lanterns, his enormous head close to the sword-light grille. He looked down fiercely at the young man who spoke without restraint.
Chen Ping'an turned and left.
The Great Demon said, "Fine. Grandpa is thirsty. First, give me half a jin of blood to quench my thirst! If the taste is good, I'll take the remaining half jin from you and then tell you the shortcut to dragon transformation and disaster avoidance."
The young man simply nodded and continued forward.
The Great Demon slammed his head against the grille and roared angrily, "How dare you, you brat, toy with your grandfather!"
Chen Ping'an turned his head and said, "Later, I'll have the old deaf man come and take three cash of your heart's essence blood. You'd better think carefully about how you phrase things, and don't try to fool me. I said I'd give you half a jin of regular blood earlier, but you didn't agree. I just don't understand how you do business!"
After Chen Ping'an had walked off into the distance.
The old deaf man stood smiling outside the cell of the Great Demon Qing Qiu, with the confused youth by his side. The youth was named You Yu, a strange-sounding name, said to have been casually chosen by the youth's transmitter when they had seen some characters on a stele in a back alley. The other youth was named Du Shanyin. The two youths, who did not know each other, had completely different attitudes towards the young Hidden Official. The former kept his distance in reverence, while the latter was extremely eager to become a big shot like the Hidden Official—he dreamed of it.
The young man was walking barefoot. The Immortal realm Great Demon Qing Qiu behaved extremely "freely" in the presence of the old deaf man, immediately retreating into the thick fog.
The old deaf man glanced at the fog inside the cell, nodded and said, "So this loach is also known as water ginseng, can cure hangovers. Learned something new."
You Yu said quietly, "The Hidden Official is very learned."
The old deaf man smiled, "And holds grudges even more. You'd better not provoke scholars like him in the future."
The Great King Demon Yang Zhi, the former master of the Yeluo River, was exactly the master of the Great Demon Qing Qiu. That old woman had once tortured a southern-roving Sword Immortal named Yue to death on the battlefield, causing the Hidden Official to be in a position on the Sword Qi Great Wall where sword cultivators had turned their backs on him.
That was why the young Hidden Official had been very polite to the Great Demon Yun Qing, but when he met this loach, one of the four great evils of the Yeluo River, he started settling accounts, collecting a little interest, earning a little bit where he could.
You Yu said worriedly, "Grandpa Long'er, when I see the Hidden Official, I don't even dare to speak. How could I possibly provoke someone who seems like a figure in the heavens? I'd never dare. Besides, the Hidden Official has worked his heart out for the Sword Qi Great Wall, and I have great respect for him. Right now, I'm still regretting that I was too timid and didn't get to exchange a word with him."
On the Sword Qi Great Wall, if you only talk about the youngest generation, the young Hidden Official in each person's eyes was probably different.
For example, Jiang Yun, Yuan Zaohua—those martial artist embryos practicing punches. Or the poor children who listened to the Second Shopkeeper tell mountain and river stories at street corners. Or young sword cultivators like Sun Zao, who had never seen the young Hidden Official but had heard so much about him that their ears were calloused. And finally, You Yu, Du Shanyin—these boys and girls not very old, yet already able to take up swords and kill demons on the city walls.
The old deaf man said, "When disaster and fortune come furiously, there's no 'dare' or 'dare not.'"
You Yu nodded vigorously. "Got it."
The old deaf man smiled. "I don't know what the old Sword Immortal is thinking. He ought to swap you with that ambitious Du Shanyin. If you went to be with that drunkard, your temperaments might actually match, and maybe your future fortune would be greater."
The boy's expression darkened. His own talent and temperament were too poor; he must have disappointed Grandpa Long'er.
Chen Ping'an continued to walk with stops and starts, unhurried, as if taking a leisurely trip through the hills and waters.
The seven-tailed fox spirit used every trick in the book. While the young Hidden Official was passing by, she transformed into various forms in a short span of time. She used her original appearance combined with illusion techniques. She became a plump woman with a hint of exposed skin, or a young girl with light makeup, or a pretty little nun, or a cold-featured female Daoist. In the end, she even blurred gender and turned into a handsome young man. Seeing that the youth did not stop, she simply took off her clothes, exposing her body, as beautiful as a jade figure, kneeling and weeping by the sword-light grille, hoping to gain his favor.
Chen Ping'an paid no attention. His heart was as still as water, contemplating her as a rotting corpse.
The fox spirit did not give up. When the stone-hearted young man passed by her cell, she pounced forward with her hands on the ground, her voice soft and seductive, like a sob. The line of her spine rose and fell like mountain ridges.
Chen Ping'an walked straight off.
He arrived at the prison cell, the fourth from the bottom. The cultivator inside was at the Dragon Gate Realm. He was skilled in concealing his aura. His killer move was two lifebound objects that could both bind flying swords. He was a ruthless character who enjoyed torturing sword cultivators on the battlefield.
About this kind of behavior, Chen Ping'an did not feel much like or dislike. On the Sword Qi Great Wall side, several Sword Immortals, as well as Nalan Caihuan and Qi Shou, were known for their vicious methods. But according to the archives of the Hidden Official lineage, this Dragon Gate Realm cultivator from a major sect in the Barren Wastes was famous even among the demons in his own homeland for his cruelty. He especially enjoyed purchasing "bamboo boxes," which were considered "half-breeds" in the Barren Wastes, and had even bought several female sword cultivator prisoners from the mountain occupied by the Great Demon Chong Guang. One could imagine what happened to them.
Chen Ping'an said lightly, "Senior Nian Xin, please open the door."
Chen Ping'an knew the secret techniques for the prison's restrictions, but he could not open them.
The seamstress woman, Nian Xin, materialized. The sword-light grille instantly vanished.
Chen Ping'an stepped forward. He noticed she did not intend to leave. He stood at the doorway, his back to the miserable-looking woman, about to speak.
Nian Xin said, "Is the Hidden Official overestimating himself? Or is it that, hindered by face, he does not want an outsider to see the cruel methods of a Confucian scholar? There's no need for that."
Chen Ping'an nodded and rolled up another layer of his sleeve.
About ten minutes later.
Nian Xin looked at the figure crouching on the ground.
That Dragon Gate Realm demon had only its head left intact. Everything below the neck was a messy pulp, but it was not yet dead. Layer upon layer of flesh, skin, bones, sinews, and soul—the method was applied leisurely.
It seemed the young Hidden Official had suffered a great deal in the path of martial arts. He had the air of "long illness makes the patient a doctor, a connoisseur of the trade."
Even this Dragon Gate Realm demon, with enough resilience of body and mind, was now begging, "Kill me, kill me."
Chen Ping'an simply gouged out one of the demon's eyes, crushed it slightly, wiped his fingers on the demon's forehead, and asked, "When demons transform into human form, are there subtle differences from one to another?"
Nian Xin nodded. "It's not just demons transforming into humans that have differences. Even among us, those who study the world's techniques, we share a common origin but diverge into different streams. There are thousands of branches. The methods considered 'orthodox and communicating with heaven' are those that can, as far as possible, eliminate the influence of branching paths and divergences. Side-door and left-hand paths come second, while demonic and evil paths come next. All can ascend the mountain, but the difficulty differs, and the heights reached differ. The more orthodox, the more precisely one can grasp the meridians of the human body, this cave heaven of fortune. The fewer detours one takes—the reason is simple: the path is broad, spiritual qi flows abundantly, with heavy traffic, like marching armies, so the momentum is great. If it's a goat trail, rugged and dangerous, the spiritual qi flow is ultimately limited. But nothing is absolute. Those of stunning talent are not bound by this principle; they can still reach the peak even via a small path."
Chen Ping'an extended a finger, pressing it against the demon's glabella at the center of its forehead. Gently, he traced it downward, like a knife cutting, and then lightly peeled the skin aside.
Nian Xin saw that his movements were gentle, stable, and, most importantly, there was not the slightest ripple in his state of mind. There was no resentment, no joy or sorrow. He was simply a born seamstress and executioner.
Among the ten types of cultivators listed in the Haoran World, the executioner and the seamstress shared many similarities in a different way.
Nian Xin reminded him, "Killing a Dragon Gate Realm demon with such a weak body wouldn't be worthy of my skills at stitching clothes."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "I know. I'm just warming up, because I was planning to learn the seamstress art from Senior Nian Xin."
Nian Xin shook her head. "I would advise the Hidden Official not to dabble lightly in this path. It will only be hated by heaven and earth and hinder the Great Way. A martial artist becoming a god, a sword cultivator ascending to the heavens—those are the true bright roads for a Hidden Official."
Chen Ping'an thrust a finger into the demon cultivator's glabella, stood up slowly, and said, "The art does not matter; if one's mind is settled, it is fine. Evil men are ground down by evil men; evil men can only be ground down by evil men. The difference is one word. The first way of putting it is too helpless, the second too absolute. I feel neither is quite right."
Nian Xin remained silent.
Chen Ping'an walked out of the cell and went on to the next.
According to the records of the Summer Resort, he simply punched as he pleased.
The different methods had only one thing in common: he would first announce his origin.
"Haoran World. Chen Ping'an."
Nian Xin followed the young man the whole time, observing the entire process from beginning to end.
When Earth Immortal demons died, Nian Xin would open the embroidered pouch at her waist, take out different fine needles and short knives, and process the corpse, while the young Hidden Official stood by and watched.
Nian Xin's yin spirit exited her body in a very peculiar way. The yin spirit was as small as a particle, barely visible. The yin spirit also held an even smaller lifebound object, an "embroidery needle."
When facing a Miluo realm military demon, Chen Ping'an let the opponent strike with full force and did not retaliate at all.
When facing a Miluo sword cultivator, Nian Xin was surprised to find that the young Hidden Official had vanished into thin air, as if he had isolated himself into a small heaven and earth.
After deactivating the flying sword's innate divine ability, Chen Ping'an, while watching Nian Xin processing the corpse, asked, "Senior Nian Xin, of the ten types of Qi Refiners, including you seamstresses, how many have you seen with your own eyes?"
Nian Xin's hands did not stop. Skillfully, she selected and extracted sinews and marrow, extracting bones and knocking on them. It was fluid and smooth, though not exactly pleasing to the eye.
Nian Xin told the young Hidden Official some secrets that not even the Summer Resort had recorded in writing. Those Southern Sea Lone Riders, who carried Dragon King baskets to catch weary flood dragons and pilfer water fortune, served a monarch. That monarch was a Great Demon that had traded blows with the Outer-Surname Great Heavenly Master, Fire Dragon Master. Even Fire Dragon Master, who was slightly stronger, had spent ten years attacking the ancient landscape grand formation at the bottom of the sea called "Lu Shui Pit" without being able to break it. The ruins were rumored to have been one of the main palaces of the ancient Water God.
Upon hearing this, Chen Ping'an said, "Fire Dragon Master is indeed a true hermit worthy of the name."
Nian Xin did not look up and asked casually, "Has the Hidden Official met Fire Dragon Master?"
She was currently "carving" the heart that the young Hidden Official had split open, along with a demon core nearby, suspended beside it.
Her tiny yin spirit was threading needles.
Chen Ping'an hummed an affirmative.
Nian Xin looked up and stopped her movements. "Fire Dragon Master is the one who killed my master."
Chen Ping'an did not respond, saying, "Please continue, Senior. I have no interest in the past grudges of the Haoran World."
Nian Xin's gaze still lingered on Chen Ping'an. Her eyes became even more intense.
Chen Ping'an accepted his fate. He could not be the only one allowed to collect debts from the Great Demon Qing Qiu; he must also allow Nian Xin to collect debts from him.
Nian Xin continued speaking about those strange matters.
Perhaps having been confined in the prison for several hundred years, she rarely met a living person, and this seamstress was not stingy with her words.
Those who refined tombs and ancient graves, causing yin soldiers to pass like "travelers"—the highest realm among them, once they unfurled their lifebound banners, would put everything on the line, capable of transforming heaven and earth, turning a thousand li of land directly into a yin underworld realm.
Then there were the Corpse Beauties. Their seduction arts were superior even to fox spirits. Half-human, half-ghost, even immortals would find it hard to detect them. They most enjoyed spreading debauchery in the inner chambers of palaces. Corpse Beauties rarely appeared, but before their traces were exposed, they were sure to leave many deeds in the annals of history.
There were also the Flower Thieves of the mountains. They specialized in capturing and killing flower, grass, and tree spirits, refining them into pills. Twelve kinds of flowers made a small pill; if one caught a hundred and eight wood essence spirits, they would refine a great pill. The methods were extremely vicious, but the effects were astonishing. They were sworn enemies of the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land. It was said that the founding patriarch of the Flower Thieves lineage had a hidden love-hate relationship with the Flower Lord of the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land. Many seemingly righteous registered Daoist masters nominally eliminated them, but in reality kept them as honored retainers, opening up a broad source of wealth, raking in money like a river.
Upon hearing this, Chen Ping'an asked curiously, "Do the goddesses of the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land genuinely have the true spirits of ancient flowers mixed in among them?"
He had thought of the Heavenly Official Goddess from the Bone Beach Mural City.
Nian Xin nodded. "I once caught a Nascent Soul Flower Thief and traded him to the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land for a key dharma artifact. I can confirm that those four Life-official Flower Spirits are indeed of great antiquity. It is the Flower Lord of the Blessed Land who came later and surpasses them."
Saying this, Nian Xin glanced at the young man. "This is all thanks to the immortal poems written by you scholars."
Chen Ping'an smiled slightly. "Composing poetry and writing essays have never been my strong suits. It seems I am destined to have no connection with the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land."
Nian Xin said something out of place: "Are you certain you can return alive to the Haoran World?"
Chen Ping'an said, "I'll try my best."
Nian Xin went on to talk about the Plague Gods. They were not simply good or evil. They were creatures to be pitied by nature, things hated by spirits and detested by gods, suppressed by the Great Way. Almost no one had control over their own fate. They were either locked up by righteous Qi refiners, isolated from the world for life, or raised from childhood by demonic cultivators, used as puppet henchmen. On a small scale, they threatened imperial courts and served as money trees. Once sent to a battlefield, their killing power was immense, and the consequences were endless. Plagues would spread, causing untold suffering, and the land would be barren for a hundred years, with miasma running rampant.
Then there were the Cuckoo Immortals. As the name suggests, they were adept at seizing another's nest. Any Qi refiner in the world could be treated as a magpie's nest by them. They would implant their mustard-seed thoughts, their root-seeds, into the heart aperture of others, undetected by ghosts or gods. There were also the Crossing Masters, who arbitrarily traveled between the world of the living and the underworld. They were the most secretive. And the Debt Collectors, who targeted simpletons in the villages and alleys, capable of transferring karma to their enemies and secretly gathering the incense offerings of families and temples. Finally, there were the Mirror Sellers, who roamed the land, specializing in capturing and refining the shadows of ordinary men, wantonly restraining people's souls, dictating their destinies, cutting away their fortune, and using it for themselves.
On Mirror Sellers, Nian Xin also mentioned a rumor of unknown veracity: a gifted Mirror Seller in the history of the Haoran World had once tried to refine the bright, bright moon into a dressing mirror.
If he had succeeded, everyone under Heaven, whether commoner or cultivator, would have had to look up at the "mirror's surface." The consequences could be imagined.
After listening to these strange and bizarre insider stories from the mountains, Chen Ping'an said softly, "Those who have attained the Dao have long lifespans. As long as they are willing to travel everywhere, crossing mountains and rivers with earth-shrinking magic, there will always be endless wonders and strange people to see."
During their talking, Chen Ping'an also witnessed Nian Xin's lifebound objects. They were the ten embroidery needles held by her yin spirit, with extremely fine, colorful, iridescent trails trailing from the needle tails. They were exactly enough to target the three hun and seven po souls.
Nian Xin finished her work. Her out-of-body yin spirit returned. She stood up and said, "I've done a rough count. If you can kill more than sixty demons, I can mend and patch thirty-two places for you. Since you are a pure martial artist, the lines on your palms, the backs of your hands, and your fingers will all need significant work. For the apertures of your face, the main focus will be the eyes. The heart area will naturally be the main event. I'll pierce it with needle and thread, stir it up nicely. It might take some time. For the back, I'll focus mainly on the spine. After flaying the skin, I'll need to pull the entire spine up to a certain height. These are the easy parts. The real hardship, the true beginning of suffering, will be in dealing with the three hun and seven po souls. After mending and re-clothing, the true torment will start."
Chen Ping'an was expressionless.
Nian Xin nodded. He was not old, but he had considerable courage.
Then the young Hidden Official was seen picking up the Sword-Nurturing Gourd and taking a big swig of wine.