Chapter 737: Three Life-Character Words, One Fourteen
Southern Sacred Peak's Storage Lord on Caizhi Mountain, Li Er took a deep breath and gazed into the distance to the south. He clasped his fists heavily and saluted from afar the imposing silhouette of the blue-robed scholar.
This battlefield was simply too far away. Even though Li Er was a Martial God of the Stop Realm, he ultimately lacked the divine power to survey mountains and rivers with a single palm. Moreover, the battlefield at the Old Dragon City ruins had become so chaotic and turbulent that it was no longer visible.
Back in his hometown of the Bead Pearl Grotto-Heaven, Li Er had drunk wine with Mr. Qi. At that time, Li Er hadn't expected Mr. Qi to come calling. There were only a few bowls of inferior wine in the house, but fortunately Mr. Qi didn't mind.
Even though the scholar before him could no longer be considered the true Mr. Qi, that didn't stop Li Er from saluting with clasped fists.
Suddenly, Li Er condensed his voice into sound and said to Pei Qian, "You need to trust your master. He and Mr. Qi are both true scholars. They aren't the type to only repay evil with good. Besides, in your master's lineage, the grievances of the previous generation have never been passed down to the next."
The Literary Sage's lineage valued reason above all.
The Literary Sage's lineage also protected its own fiercely.
The old Literary Sage was so protective of his disciples that even after his first disciple, Cui Chan, betrayed the lineage by committing the gravest offenses—killing his master and abandoning his teacher—the old scholar still shielded him, even imprisoning himself in the Merit Forest to do so.
Mr. Qi protected his own. Left Master protected his own. Mr. Qi's junior brother, taken as a disciple on behalf of the master, also protected his own. And in the future, the third-generation disciples of this lineage would protect the younger ones just the same.
If not for this, Li Er would have already thrown a punch at the Mountain Moving Ape of Zhengyang Mountain that he had spotted earlier. Years ago, that old beast had chased Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao with impunity, rampaging without restraint, even trampling Li Er's ancestral home. At the time, Li Er had crouched at the doorstep, sighing deeply, afraid that acting would break the rules and bring punishment from his master, as well as cause trouble for Mr. Qi and Master Ruan. So he endured. Then his wife cursed heaven and earth, cursed him the most, and in the end, they had to go stay with her family for a while, swallowing a lot of humiliation. At the dining table, the dishes near Li Er and his family were all vegetables. His son Li Huai wanted to stand on a stool to grab a chopstickful of meat that seemed "as far away as the horizon," but he would be scolded for being ill-mannered, and they'd hear things like, "No wonder I heard your Huai is always at the bottom of his class at school—why even bother studying? His brains are as bad as his dad's and his mom's. Clearly he's useless at studying, might as well go work the fields early and try to become a farmhand for some high and mighty family in Peach Leaf Alley…"
At that moment, watching his son silently withdraw his chopsticks and obediently sit back down on the long bench, the honest man's heart nearly broke. But they were relatives after all. Their family of four was living under someone else's roof. They couldn't fight back, and they couldn't win an argument. If they forced a big quarrel, in the end, it would only make things harder for his wife. So Li Er just had to endure. Fortunately, his daughter Li Liu didn't care at all. She simply took an empty bowl, walked over to her uncle's table, and piled it high with meat before setting it beside her brother. That made Li Er feel a little better.
Pei Qian nodded lightly, barely suppressing the killing intent surging within her.
If the master's wife was the moon in the sky in the master's heart, then Pei Qian understood very well what Mr. Qi meant to her master. He was the one her master always looked up to but never spoke of.
Pei Qian had witnessed her master's state of mind twice, but she had never mentioned it to anyone. Her master knew this perfectly well but never said anything to her about it, not even giving her a single chestnut.
After this long journey, Pei Qian's state of mind was somewhat similar to her master's when he returned home from the Book-Seeing Lake. Her master had needed to go to the fierce Northern Juzhou to suppress the Dragon's Head Rise in the heart-well. That was why Pei Qian, just back at Fallen Mountain, had to journey again to the Southern Sacred Peak battlefield. Anyway, on the battlefield, when you throw a punch, you don't have to worry about right or wrong, or about light or heavy strikes, or life or death. The heavier the better, kill or be killed—pure and simple.
On the Golden Armor Continent battlefield, Pei Qian had become increasingly clear about the phrase "no one in front of you." It actually meant two things. One was that if you learn fist techniques, you need to be bold. No matter how strong the enemy before you, you still dare to throw a punch, so there is no enemy before you. That is the spirit a martial artist should have. The other was that learning martial arts requires extreme pragmatism. You must endure hardship, and when you finally throw one punch, several punches, or a hundred punches, all the enemies before you will be dead, leaving truly no one in front of you.
Pei Qian condensed her voice into sound and asked curiously, "This Guardian Mountain Sacrifice of Zhengyang Mountain—is he really that high in realm and strong in fist techniques?"
Didn't seem like it. Before, at Fallen Mountain, Pei Qian had heard through various landscape gazettes and mountain rumors that this old ape was notoriously unruly and arrogant. On Zhengyang Mountain, which boasted ten sword immortals and ten sword paths, he was hard to control. It was said he had always wanted to become the first Upper Five Realm demon clan member in Bottle Gourd Continent's history? If so, he hadn't reached Upper Five Realm yet, so why was his arrogance as if he were already a throne-ranked great demon? Had he stolen Little Mi Li's cocky way of walking?
But thinking about how her master and master's wife, when they were still teenagers, had needed to join forces to deal with this old beast, Pei Qian couldn't help but feel a bit of fear. Although she wouldn't hold back when throwing punches, and her fist intent wouldn't suffer, she was still somewhat intimidated.
Li Er laughed and replied, "Passable. Back then, relying on his physique advantage, he could exchange a few punches with the prince Song Changjing. But don't underestimate him. Fist intent should be higher than the sky, fist technique should be greater than the earth, and fist skill should have an ordinary heart. Combining these three is the principle of the fist. But that's what Zheng Dafeng said; Uncle Li can't articulate such principles."
Pei Qian nodded. "Uncle Li's fist principles are all in his punches. Zheng Dafeng does have more theories, but his fists aren't as good as Uncle Li's. My master once told me privately that although Uncle Li hasn't studied books, he has great principles beyond books, and what's more, Uncle Li has good judgment. Because back then, Uncle Li was the first to recognize my master's talent for martial arts. He even wanted to give my master a Dragon King Basket and a golden carp. My master said it was a pity he wasn't lucky enough to accept that gift at the time, but he has always been grateful for it."
When Pei Qian spoke of her master, her expression naturally softened, and her state of mind became calm and peaceful.
Li Er grinned honestly, not thinking much of his own judgment. Back then, he just found the straw-sandaled boy most agreeable. After all, he had watched the boy grow up. When Chen Ping'an was still a child, he often dealt with the Yang Family Apothecary, and Li Er had seen it all. Sometimes Old Man Yang would ask Li Er to keep an eye on the boy while he gathered herbs on the mountain. As Pei Qian said, Li Er was the first person in the Bead Pearl Grotto-Heaven to value Chen Ping'an. In fact, Li Er also had a good impression of Pei Qian, Chen Ping'an's primary disciple. The girl respected her master and Dao, endured hardship in learning the fist, and despite her martial prowess, was less inclined to throw punches carelessly. Who did that resemble? It resembled him, Li Er.
Wang Fusu grumbled, "What are you two whispering about? Girl Zheng, treating me like an outsider?"
Pei Qian smiled.
Wang Fusu asked, "Girl Zheng, won't you reconsider changing your school and learning the fist from me? Become my last closed-door disciple, and you'll be the surefire Female Martial God of Northern Juzhou."
Pei Qian shook her head, once again declining the old martial artist's goodwill. "We martial artists, on the path of learning the fist, face the greatest enemy within ourselves. I seek no empty fame."
Wang Fusu was taken aback, then laughed angrily. "Are those the damn principles your master taught you?"
If this had been a younger Pei Qian, just for this insolent remark, she would have already mentally dug up Wang Fusu's ancestors for eighteen generations. But now, Pei Qian only said calmly, "Senior Wang, my master said that if today's self surpasses yesterday's self, and tomorrow's self surpasses today's self, that is true achievement in fist training. Only when you have this internal competition can you qualify to compete with outsiders, with heaven and earth."
Wang Fusu let out an "eh," nodded, and laughed heartily. "That actually sounds like it has some truth. Is your master a scholar by any chance? How else could he speak so elegantly?"
Pei Qian nodded. "My master is indeed a scholar."
Wang Fusu felt a bit regretful. Over these days, he had tried more than once to coax Zheng Qian into becoming his disciple, but the girl remained unmoved.
This girl named Zheng Qian was remarkable. Although she never revealed the origin of her fist techniques, she was like a female martial arts fanatic who had gone mad. She practiced the fist constantly. After meeting Li Er, she took the initiative to ask this Stop Realm martial artist of Lion Peak for four extremely strange immortal talismans. Each talisman looked light as a feather but was actually very heavy. Pei Qian pasted them on her wrists and ankles to suppress her own fist intent and temper her physique. So at first glance, Pei Qian looked like a Golden Body Realm martial artist who had never encountered a wise master and had gone astray in her walking stance. Wang Fusu was very interested in those talismans, but Li Er was not easy to deal with. He said you couldn't buy them with money, but he could give them away for free—provided you could win against his fist. If you won, not just four, but forty would be no problem.
Thinking about that unorthodox fist challenge in the Lion Peak territory, Wang Fusu's head ached. Forget it. "The fist fears the young and strong." What skill was it for a young man to beat an old master with random punches? He, this old man, was generous and tolerant of the younger generation's insolence. He wouldn't bother with Li Er, a young man whose physique and soul were at their peak. If he were a hundred or two hundred years younger, he could take a dozen more punches and still fall to the ground easily.
Wang Fusu asked, "Your master, how old is he?"
Pei Qian answered honestly, "Older than me, younger than Uncle Li and Senior Wang."
Wang Fusu was greatly surprised and couldn't help asking, "So he's good at suppressing his realm to feed you punches?"
Pei Qian nodded vigorously. "Of course!"
Wang Fusu asked Li Er, "Is there really such a young martial arts grandmaster in Bottle Gourd Continent? Why haven't I heard any news? Even on Ao'ao Continent, there's a girl named Axiang whose fame has reached my ears. Bottle Gourd Continent is so close to Northern Juzhou, he should have been famous across both continents' mountains long ago."
Li Er said bluntly, "I don't know you well. Ask someone else."
Wang Fusu, known as an old brute, immediately got hotheaded and rubbed his hands together. "Li Er, want to find a place to fight?"
Li Er said, "Then lie on the ground after three or five punches, groaning and pretending to be dead?"
Li Er really wasn't good at small talk. Tearing down ancestral halls was his specialty.
Wang Fusu didn't mind having a fist fight with Li Er, but with Zheng Qian around, he'd let Li Er off for now.
Pei Qian glanced at the white-robed old ape out of the corner of her eye. He seemed to be in a bad mood? Good. Then she was in a very good mood. Zhengyang Mountain with its clouds of sword immortals, huh? Just wait.
Wang Fusu said regretfully, "Pity our sword immortal drinking buddy isn't here. Otherwise, we could see the visions at Old Dragon City more clearly. That's the only bad thing about martial artists—we don't have all those messy magics to rely on."
On the Storage Lord's mountain, what martial artists could see clearly were the strange phenomena erupting from the southern battlefield ahead.
In the pavilion, Chunqing quickly took out a jug of Qingshen Mountain wine, took a sip to calm herself. The Great Li Dynasty, or rather the Embroidered Tiger Cui Chan, how could he so completely refine the literary and martial fortunes of an entire continent and turn them into his own use?
A mortal's body could never truly rival a god. After this battle, that might no longer be the accepted truth among Dao practitioners in the Haoran World.
Earlier, the golden-armored giant a thousand feet tall had appeared from the secondary capital, holding an iron mace. Another armored god, holding a standard Great Li war blade, had stood unexpectedly on the human world, one on the left and one on the right. These two armored generals, like door gods of a household, appeared successively in the center of the battlefield, blocking the ferocious charge of the demon army that swept through like locusts.
In fact, these two martial fortune gods, who enjoyed countless incense offerings across the human world, were precisely the ancestors of the Yuan and Cao clans, the Great Li's Pillars of State. Their faces were the most familiar in every corner of the continent.
The two martial fortune gods, equivalent to Ascension Realm, spoke almost simultaneously: "Those who invade our land shall be beheaded." "Those who trample our mountains and rivers shall be annihilated."
But even more unbelievable than this was the blue-robed scholar who had slapped the ancient god into the sea with a single palm.
Then he stamped down a foot, raising monstrous waves, and stepped on the ancient god, who had seemed invincible, deep into the seabed.
That high-ranking god, who had visited the Haoran World as a guest from beyond the heavens, tried to struggle up. Within a thousand miles, shattered, flowing fragments of stained glass scattered, revealing the god's astonishing combat power. But the blue-robed scholar stamped him even deeper into the seafloor.
The two armored martial fortune gods were battered by countless magical techniques and aggressive treasures from demon cultivators. Although they still stood firm, they suffered varying degrees of damage to their divine nature.
Only the dharma image of the blue-robed scholar at Old Dragon City completely ignored those attacks. Since he was in the heart of the demon army's formation, thousands of brilliant magical techniques and aggressive mountain heavy treasures all missed. In simple terms, the blue-robed scholar could suppress the remnant of that ancient god and even turn the glass fragments of the River of Time into offensive weapons, like sword boats shattering continuously, countless flying swords splaying out to kill demon troops within a thousand miles. But the demons of the Barren Wilderness seemed to be confronting an opponent that didn't even exist.
This scene made Chunqing, far from the battlefield, feel her heart race. Higher than Ascension Realm? Could it be Fourteen Realm? According to reason, even Cui Chan in Ascension Realm couldn't bear it. Martial fortune was one thing—the Great Li Song clan's martial fortune was flourishing, and the two door gods Yuan and Cao were everywhere across the continent. But literary fortune was not something you could casually fill a basket with. It demanded too high a level from the deceased spirits, far too high. Even the accompanying sacrificial sages apart from the Four Sages of the Central Confucian Temple couldn't do it. As for the Literary Sage and the other three—leaving aside the Supreme Sage, Ritual Sage, Second Sage, and the old scholar—all three naturally had this "capacity." But each had chosen a different path to far travel, effectively cutting off this path. Otherwise, Confucianism would have used such methods against the Barren Wilderness long ago. The three leaders of the temple—one chief and two deputies—would have been willing to do so. Then there would have been a Fourteen Realm in Tongye Continent, another in Fuyao Continent, and yet another in Southern Potala Continent.
Chunqing took out another jug of wine and asked Cui Dongshan, "Want some wine?"
Cui Dongshan stood on the railing, laughing loudly. "What wine? I'm already drinking now! I've drunk myself dead drunk!"
Cui Dongshan raised his arm high, jumping and pumping his fist again and again, shouting, "Senior uncle is awesome! Senior uncle is strong! Senior uncle is fierce! Senior uncle is truly invincible…"
Chunqing understood in her heart. It was indeed that Mr. Qi. Among the Literary Sage lineage, aside from the most unassuming Liu Shiliu, Qi Jingchun's two senior brothers were even more famous. Cui Chan of the Three Achievements of Splendor of the Haoran World, and Zuo You, who started practicing swordplay very late but whose swordsmanship was unparalleled under heaven. In contrast, Qi Jingchun, whom the old scholar loved most, was more associated with mountain rumors that had little to do with depth of learning or level of cultivation—such as how the White Emperor City's master, Zheng Juzhong, had broken precedent to leave the city and invite an outsider to a game of Go in Colorful Cloud Pavilion.
Suddenly, Cui Dongshan fell silent. He turned to Chunqing and said, "Give me a jug of wine."
Chunqing tossed him a jug. Cui Dongshan removed the mud seal, tilted his head back, and gulped down the wine until his face was soaked.
That blue robe, one foot on the ground of the Old Dragon City ruins in Bottle Gourd Continent, the other restraining the ancient high-ranking god deep in the seabed. Whenever the latter struggled to rise, he'd receive a stomp, sinking only deeper into the depression. At the southernmost sea of Bottle Gourd Continent, wind and clouds surged, waves towered to the sky, and the originally orderly battlefield formation of the Barren Wilderness was cut in two by him alone.
This scene made the white-robed old ape atop Caizhi Mountain's peak shudder. His fists clenched tightly, and he nearly revealed his true form, as if that might give him some peace of mind.
The blue-robed scholar's form grew more ethereal, like a mountain-top cultivator's yin spirit traveling far and farther. One dharma image first formed the Bottle Gourd Seal, then successively formed the Preaching Seal, the Fearlessness Seal, the Wish-Granting Seal, the Demon-Subduing Seal, and the Meditation Seal. In an instant, he formed 386 seals.
The blue-robed scholar, like a Confucian sage uttering heavenly decrees, spoke Buddhist words: "Roar like a lion."
Precious light flowed between heaven and earth, shining brightly, illuminating the ten directions.
Another blue-robed scholar formed Daoist hand seals, totaling 356 seals, each seal a talisman, finally coalescing into a Thunder Bureau.
The scholar raised one hand, speaking the words "Thunder Pool." The sage's words followed the dharma, but using Daoist command methods, he moved the celestial mechanism. A huge golden Thunder Pool manifested on the sky's curtain.
This person seemed both like a Buddhist saint manifested in the human world and like a talisman master and the great heavenly master of Xuanhe and Dragon Tiger Mountain, both present here, displaying divine powers.
The Thunder Bureau crashed down into the sea, using the landscape interdependence pattern to trap the remnant ancient god trapped in the sea. Then he refined it with a tribulation Thunder Pool.
Moreover, nearly four hundred Buddhist seals, half of them, landed one by one on the ground, causing dense demon armies on the earth to vanish into thin air, falling into small heavens.
The remaining nearly two hundred seals all landed on the vast sea between the two continents, creating whirlpools that revealed the seabed, forcing the great demons of the Barren Wilderness to frantically either seek refuge or try to fill the whirlpools that shattered the paths across the sea.
On the Southern Sacred Peak's mountaintop, the Chicken Soup Old Monk flicked his sleeve. Then, suddenly, the old monk's shoulder tilted, his figure staggered, as if his sleeve had become heavy.
At the southern end of Tongye Continent, the ancestral mountain of the Jade Gui Sect, a young Daoist smiled knowingly and sighed with emotion. "So Mr. Qi's mastery of our Dragon Tiger Mountain's Five Thunder True Method is profound. Based solely on a sealing array from the Colored Glass Pavilion Master, he could deduce and evolve it into this Thunder Bureau. Mr. Qi can be said to have studied to the point of surpassing the heavens."
Chunqing started drinking again. The mountain master was right: there is always a mountain beyond the mountain, a sky beyond the sky.
Chunqing was young, but thanks to the high incense connections of Qingshen Mountain and her own extraordinary talent, she had learned a wide range of things and was praised for the purity of her techniques. But now, having witnessed the methods of the blue-robed scholar firsthand, Chunqing felt embarrassed. No matter how modest this girl, who had only recently left the Bamboo Sea Grotto-Heaven, might be, or how early she had learned the height of heaven and the depth of earth, the magnificent picture before her eyes still made her heart tremble and feel ashamed. She felt as if she could never walk to that Old Dragon City in her lifetime.
Cui Dongshan laughed loudly. "Don't lose heart, Miss Chunqing! After all, he's my master's senior brother. It's normal for him to have high magical skills!"
Chunqing murmured, "But that's too high. I could never learn that."
Cui Dongshan, carrying the wine jug that had only a few mouthfuls left, sidestepped along the path until his shoulder leaned against the pillar of the pavilion. Then he fell silent.
Qi Jingchun had long since been Fourteen Realm.
What did he merge his Dao with? The advantage of time, place, and people? Qi Jingchun directly merged his Dao with the roots of all three teachings!
In that battle back then, he didn't fight back. He only used his life-character words to withstand the heavenly tribulation and cancel out karma.
Why did that old bastard have him go to the Bead Pearl Grotto-Heaven? It was to guard against the worst, to truly anger Qi Jingchun and provoke some long-lost juvenile recklessness, so he'd flip the board and fight outside. No one would die, but suffering was inevitable. As it turned out, countless hardships, big and small, did fall on him, Cui Dongshan, alone, and... on his head. First, in the Yuan Clan's old residence in the Bead Pearl Grotto-Heaven, his realm dropped. No sooner had he left the Bead Pearl Grotto-Heaven than he had to take the old scholar's beatings. Then he stood at the bottom of a well to cool off. He barely climbed out of the well, only to have Little Baoping stamp a seal on his head. At the Great Sui Academy, besides being scolded and beaten by Mao Xiaodong, he had to endure bullying from a bastard named Cai Shenjing. One incident after another, tears of bitterness that could fill ink enough to write several long mournful odes.
But at that time, that old bastard hadn't been certain of Qi Jingchun's true realm either. Immortal Realm? Ascension Realm?
It wasn't until Cui Dongshan and Cui Chan together re-examined the scroll of the River of Time and accidentally discovered a scene: Qi Jingchun and the straw-sandaled boy standing together under an old locust tree.
Then, linking that to everything Qi Jingchun arranged as his "posthumous affairs"—like traveling to the Lotus Small Grotto-Heaven, debating the Dao with the Dao Ancestor, and finally fetching a lotus flower to conceal the old sword's heavenly secrets—
If an Ascension Realm practitioner had died, body and Dao extinguished, leaving only lingering souls, how could he still ascend to the Azure Underworld?
How could Qi Jingchun, with just a single finger as a sword, split the Dragon-Slaying Platform?
Qi Jingchun wasn't a sword cultivator, and he had no suitable weapon. With just one finger, he broke the Dragon-Slaying Platform. Let Ruan Qiong, another soldier sage guarding heaven and earth, try that!
Cui Dongshan sat down, his head leaning against the pavilion pillar, hugging a wine jug. His snowy-white figure was motionless, like a snowman piled on the mountain.
Perhaps the sages of the Second Sage lineage at the Central Confucian Temple were worried, needing to consider the ultimate direction of the Confucian lineage over millennia—whether it would become muddled and undermine the original clarity—so they chose to stand by. That wasn't surprising.
What about the Supreme Sage? And Ritual Sage, who had admired Qi Jingchun early on? Why didn't they intervene?
Why did some people back then want Qi Jingchun to go to the Western Buddhist Kingdom?
The reasoning was simple: if Qi Jingchun wanted to live, he didn't need the Confucian Temple to save him.
It wasn't "escaping Zen" that could save him, nor was it taking refuge in the old scholar's hairpin. It was that if Qi Jingchun was willing to truly fight, he could live and win.
But if he did that, besides inevitably damaging the fortune of an entire continent's landscape, the accumulated three-thousand-year heavenly backlash and karmic tribulations of the Bead Pearl Grotto-Heaven would also fall.
This was the fundamental divergence in the Dao paths of the Embroidered Tiger and Qi Jingchun. According to Cui Chan's doctrine of practical achievements, refined over a full century, for the self, for others, for the world and the way, Qi Jingchun absolutely should not have chosen that path.
But Qi Jingchun was unwilling to calculate that way. What could outsiders do?
At the time, Cui Dongshan didn't believe it. He ended up offending everyone. In the Yuan Clan ancestral house, he insisted on competing with Qi Jingchun in schemes, only to see his realm drop continuously, ending in a miserable, chaotic failure.
All the young people and children in the Bead Pearl Grotto-Heaven—after Qi Jingchun's death, how did Bottle Gourd Continent's martial fortune fare? How did its literary fortune fare?
No need to even mention literary fortune. Just talk about martial fortune. Prince Song Changjing advanced to the Tenth Realm. Li Er advanced to the Tenth Realm. The Bamboo Tower elder almost advanced to the Eleventh Realm. The Old Dragon City's Zheng Dafeng. Then Chen Ping'an, Pei Qian, Zhu Lian…
This was Qi Jingchun's calculation.
With me alone, rivaling the gods—better that countless lamps in the hearts of mortals be lit one by one.
When the world is good, cultivate yourself alone, study in the study. When the world is not so good, aid the world, sacrifice life and forget death, do not shirk from duty.
Cui Dongshan suddenly plopped down on the railing, overcome with sorrow, muttering in his heart, "In the end, Qi Jingchun still left Fourteen Realm cultivation to that old bastard, still treating Cui Chan as his senior brother. Cui Chan, that man who should be struck by lightning, even after all that, he still set up that Book-Seeing Lake Heart-Questioning Bureau and wrote that landscape travelogue. That old bastard never told me any of this, deliberately keeping me in the dark, knowing nothing."
Cui Chan had indeed concealed many things.
For example, the excavation of Qi Ferry and those several calligraphy sheets—Cui Dongshan only thought they were Qi Jingchun's backup plan. For instance, letting Wang Zhu succeed in walking the great river's path, allowing the first true dragon to reappear in the world, coupled with the Great River, caused Bottle Gourd Continent's water fortune to surge. Add to that a continent's Five Sacred Peaks, which actually formed a hidden landscape formation. Cui Chan had secretly refined a Water Character Seal and a Mountain Character Seal. The entire Great River was the Water Character Seal, and the gradually accumulated soil forming the Great Li Southern Sacred Peak was a Mountain Character Seal—or strictly speaking, a Heaven-Overturning Seal. Where would this seal be stamped? At the Old Dragon City ruins! It would smash that entire vast area, including Old Dragon City, the southernmost landscape of Bottle Gourd Continent, not allowing the Barren Wilderness to land even an inch and taint it with fortune!
Such mad behavior—who would dare? Who could do it? In the Haoran World, only the Embroidered Tiger dared. And if he succeeded, even the mountains and rivers would find it gratifying. Scary, wasn't it? Even Cui Dongshan was scared.
Cui Dongshan knew all this, because these far-reaching schemes were the predetermined strategies that Cui Chan, after splitting his soul, had calculated with Cui Dongshan—two halves playing chess against each other.
That was why he had run around busily all these years, willingly working hard.
But in the Qi Ferry temple shrine, there was a "Qi Jingchun" who was both a No-Realm person and Fourteen Realm, and Cui Chan hadn't mentioned a single word to Cui Dongshan.
Qi Jingchun, who was a junior brother and a senior uncle, had deceived even his senior brother and his senior uncle's nephew. That was bad enough. But the bastard Cui Chan had deceived even himself.
Cui Dongshan had originally thought that Emperor Song He's nationwide edict to build temples and Daoist abbeys on a grand scale was just Cui Chan working on people's hearts. He never imagined that everything, in the final analysis, was for today, to make today's "Qi Jingchun's" Fourteen Realm more stable.
That golden lotus, using the entire Bottle Gourd Continent as a pot, plus him, Cui Dongshan, shamelessly inviting the Chicken Soup Old Monk. Earlier, as a key piece in the Great Li cavalry's southern march, why was Northern Juzhou's Heavenly Lord Xie Shi chosen to go south to Zhuying Dynasty? Why was there that Book-Seeing Lake Heart-Questioning Bureau? That shameless Cui Chan had even calculated that old gentleman outside the Confucian lineage, plus the Three Teachings, the Divine Commands Sect, He Xiaoliang, the Fan Clan old boatman, and Cao Rong, who cultivated Dao in the mountains of White Frost Dynasty. They had all been calculated by Cui Chan long ago.
But Cui Dongshan could be sure of one thing: Qi Jingchun would never speak a single extra word to Cui Chan.
Back then in the Literary Sage lineage, the senior and junior brothers had always had the same bad temper. Not to mention Zuo You, who was stubborn and hard to talk to. In fact, among the direct disciples of the Literary Sage lineage, Zuo You was actually the easiest to talk to, much better than his junior brother Qi Jingchun—far better.
Qi Jingchun had simply placed a single stone on the board. After Cui Chan took over the board, the game against the entire Barren Wilderness—how he placed more stones on the continent's landscape—was entirely up to the Embroidered Tiger's skill. Even Qi Jingchun's death, the fact that Mao Xiaodong was only the vice-mountain master of the Great Sui Cliff Academy, and that Cui Chan only later succeeded as mountain master and brought the academy back among the seventy-two—all of this was calculated by Qi Jingchun early on.
Cui Dongshan sat blankly on the railing, having long dropped the empty wine jug. Yet his face was still wet.
He understood. It was that Spring Character Seal.
Back then, Qi Jingchun had given it to his disciple Zhao Yao. Cui Dongshan intercepted it and "smashed" it easily, allowing the spring wind meaning of the Spring Character Seal to scatter across heaven and earth.
And that year across the entire Haoran World—
He must have been schemed against by both Qi Jingchun and that old bastard Cui Chan.
Cui Chan and Qi Jingchun, senior and junior brothers who had long since fallen out and never exchanged a word, years later, it was as if each was placing stones, but both were on the same side, playing a single game of chess together. This naturally demanded the skill of both chess players. In the end, the two of them faced the great tide of the two worlds as enemies.
Cui Dongshan muttered to himself, "Once there was a year when spring departed very late and summer arrived very late."
He suddenly turned his head and asked, "Chunqing, do you know how many brush strokes the character 'spring' has?"
Chunqing was baffled. "Isn't it nine strokes?"
Cui Dongshan asked again, "How many continents are there in the Haoran World?"
Chunqing sighed helplessly. "You know the answer. Nine continents."
Cui Dongshan nodded and murmured, "Who says it isn't so."
At the summit of the Southern Sacred Peak, the two soldier lineage ancestors whom Cui Chan respectfully called Old Ancestor Jiang and Sir Wei looked at each other after witnessing the visions at the Old Dragon City ruins.
Earlier, Cui Chan had demanded a thick stack of papers and was now flipping through them one by one. They were examination answer sheets from the previous year's major exam at the Central Soldier Lineage Ancestral Court. The exam question set by Old Ancestor Jiang was simple: if you were the Great Li National Teacher Cui Chan, how would Bottle Gourd Continent respond to the demon clan offensive from Tongye Continent? Cui Chan, acting like the chief examiner of a imperial examination, whenever he saw a well-phrased sentence, would make a slight movement of his heart and write one or two lines of annotation beside it. He flipped and annotated very quickly. Soon, he pulled out three papers and returned the rest of the stack to Old Ancestor Jiang. Cui Chan smiled and said, "These three. As long as they are willing to come to Great Li and serve, I will have someone protect their path somewhat. But I hope that when they come, they don't break the rules—adapt to local customs, step by step. Where they end up depends on their own ability. If any young and arrogant one tries to talk about backing with my Great Li, it's meaningless; it will only collapse the backing. I'm laying out the unpleasant truths first to Old Ancestor Jiang and Sir Wei. Sweet at the end, as they say."
The old man surnamed Wei laughed. "That's it?"
Cui Chan smiled back and asked, "Has Sir Wei compiled another military treatise?"
The implication was that if it was just the previous one, he, Cui Chan, had already read it thoroughly and wouldn't need to flip through it again on the Bottle Gourd Continent battlefield.
Old Ancestor Jiang sighed. "Just from the written foundation, Tongye Continent isn't actually bad."
The old man surnamed Wei laughed. "It's just missing Embroidered Tiger."
Unexpectedly, Cui Chan shook his head. "Human strength has its limits. Even two Cui Chans in Tongye Continent wouldn't solve anything."
For Dao cultivators, realm is interesting in times of peace, but not necessarily meaningful. In times of chaos, it becomes meaningful, but not necessarily interesting.
Old Ancestor Jiang asked, "I know well that the literary fortune on this 'Qi Jingchun' is just your Embroidered Tiger's smokescreen. How did he manage it back then?"
Cui Chan was silent for a long time, standing with hands behind his back, leaning on the railing, gazing south. Finally, he laughed and replied, "I also wanted to ask the spring wind, but the spring wind was silent."
The old man surnamed Wei said gravely, "If this continues, that Jia Sheng, who has always hidden his head and tail, will finally make his first open move."
Cui Chan's form dissipated as his yin spirit traveled far, about to return to the sky above the secondary capital. He left behind only a laughing remark for the two soldier lineage ancestors: "That banner at White Emperor City, 'Offer the World the First,' should have been taken down long ago."
Cui Chan's yin spirit returned to the sky above the secondary capital and merged with his true body.
Today, he wouldn't transmit the Dao or give lectures. No one was in the cloud sea. Cui Chan raised one hand, suspending a seal that had once been shattered and then reconstituted by Cui Chan. The original seal inscription read, "The World Welcomes Spring."
But after Cui Dongshan smashed it, only a solitary "Spring" character remained on the seal.
Lin Shouyi rode the wind from the Great River temple shrine outside the secondary capital. He might have been the only exception in the Great Li Dynasty at this moment; outsiders wouldn't dare approach the cloud sea at such a time. The fact that Lin Shouyi could temporarily serve as the Qi Ferry temple priest said it all.
Lin Shouyi made a bow and then sat upright in the cross-legged position on the cloud sea not far from National Teacher Cui Chan, Senior Uncle Embroidered Tiger. He asked softly, "Senior Uncle? Master?"
Cui Chan spoke a Buddhist phrase: "Though the flame is extinguished, the lamp and censer remain."
Qi Jingchun's body had died—no doubt about that. But his great Dao had not vanished. By revolving the life-character word "Stillness" of a Confucian sage, and using the Buddhist Chan meditation method, he existed as a No-Realm person, preserving only a single spark of spirit within the Spring Character Seal, surviving until now, finally placed in the Qi Ferry temple shrine.
Lin Shouyi's eyes filled with hot tears. "Master had three life-character words?"
Cui Chan nodded. "No one before, no one after."
Cui Chan gently pushed the seal forward, breaking precedent by showing some sadness. He said softly, "Go."
The nine continents of Haoran—in mountains, in waters, in books, in people's hearts—spring wind was everywhere in the human world.
Nine gentle spring winds first appeared from a single school in Bottle Gourd Continent, then swept across the other eight Haoran continents silently, gathering in nine places. Finally, the eight winds from the eight continents converged on Bottle Gourd Continent, swirling around the sleeves of the blue-robed scholar.
They coalesced into a single life-character word: Spring.
Two glories of Haoran: Bai Ye's poetry unmatched; spring wind—Qi Jingchun.
The ten-thousand-foot dharma image vanished, replaced by a middle-aged Confucian scholar with graying temples, looking toward a certain place in Tongye Continent.
The dharma image coalesced into the character "Stillness."
The Crimson Concubine, using a water-moving divine power no weaker than the one that had previously flooded Old Dragon City, smashed it toward the tiny figure of the scholar.
The scholar pressed two fingers together and slashed down with the character "Qi," shattering a great demon throne's innate divine power. Then, with a casual flick of his sleeve, he scattered the already split sea water even farther.
Three life-character words. One Fourteen Realm.
This direct disciple of the Literary Sage lineage, who had never been famous for magical powers, cultivation realms, or fighting, completely ignored the Crimson Concubine. With spring winds in both sleeves, the scholar laughed aloud and asked, "Where is Jia Sheng?!"