Chapter 748: Mountains and Waters Meet Again
While Chen Ping'an was crouching in a daze, Nalan Yudie, the only one who possessed a dimension storage item, took out an immortal book titled "Supplement to the Annals of Mountains and Seas." Early on, her family had commissioned someone to purchase it from Hanging Sword Mountain. The little girl moved quickly, flipping through the pages with a crackling sound until she reached the Tongye chapter. On an immortal book, a single page could record over a dozen landscape paintings and thousands of tiny characters. Ordinary mortals who had not cultivated wouldn't have keen enough eyesight to make out the text.
Back then, Chen Ping'an had been short on funds and had only bought a copy of "Annals of Mountains and Seas." He couldn't bring himself to buy this even more voluminous and detailed supplement that meticulously recorded the forms and features of mountains and rivers. The little girl began explaining the origins of this Yu Prefecture immortal ferry crossing for the others. She had just started speaking when she suddenly remembered the "reminder" she had copied out in her own handwriting. Hastily she tossed the book back into her dimension storage, clapped her hands, and crouched down beside Chen Ping'an, imitating Master Cao by pressing her hand against the soil, pretending nothing had happened.
Chen Ping'an came back to his senses and laughed. "It's fine this time. Just be more careful next time."
Make small mistakes early, get scolded early. The elder speaks early, and the child remembers early.
Chen Ping'an stood up and said, "Yudie, I'll help cover for you. Go ahead and take out the book again and explain things for us. Actually, I don't know the historical allusions of this ferry crossing either. If you can, use the Tongye dialect."
"Master Cao wouldn't know? He's testing how fluently I speak the Tongye dialect, right? It must be that."
Only then did Nalan Yudie take out the "Supplement" again and read the text in a proper Tongye dialect. Yu Prefecture was the southernmost territory of the Daying Dynasty. The old Daying Dynasty had over thirty prefectures governing more than two hundred commanderies, each with its own commandery records. Among them, the Yu Prefecture commandery records were the most unusual and strange. They recorded six sites of immortals, nine dragon lairs and water mansions below, and over sixty old temples and shrines. The ferry crossing beneath their feet was called Drive Mountain Ferry. According to legend, the dynasty's first national master, a fisherman by origin, possessed a supreme treasure: a golden bell. When shaken, it made no sound, but it would cause the earth to move and mountains to shake. Before the national master achieved his immortal dissolution, he specially sealed the golden bell and sank it into the water. The last emperor of the Daying Liu clan, having suffered successive defeats on the northern border battlefields, had a fanciful idea: "take a different path to expand the territory." He ordered hundreds of alchemists to search rivers and gorges, eventually breaking open a heavily restricted hidden water mansion, retrieving the golden bell, and successfully driving mountains into the sea, filling the sea to create land. He became the person in Daying history whose martial achievements in territorial expansion were second only to the founding emperor... The children didn't have much feeling for these old dynasty tales; they listened as if hearing a slightly interesting landscape story. But Chen Ping'an listened with great emotion.
Chen Ping'an actually wanted to know who was now in charge of rebuilding Drive Mountain Ferry—the immortal sect and dynasty forces—whether the main person was a descendant of the Daying Liu clan or some mountain sect that had survived the disaster, like the Jade Gui Sect?
The reason Chen Ping'an hadn't headed straight for his hometown of Vase Bottle Continent was, first, a coincidence: he had happened upon that multi-continent traveling Variegated Garment Ferry. Chen Ping'an had originally intended to buy landscape gazettes from the ship to gain an understanding of the current grand situation in Haoran. Second, if he made the children hide inside the little cave heaven of the White Jade Hairpin, although it wouldn't harm their souls, lifespans, or cultivation of swordsmanship, the flow of time in the great earth and heavens was uneven. Chen Ping'an felt somewhat reluctant in his heart, as if he would be causing the children to miss out on many sights. Even if this long journey mostly involved endless sea surfaces with monotonous scenery, Chen Ping'an still hoped these children could see more of the mountains and rivers of the Haoran World.
Finally, Chen Ping'an had a selfish motive. He had been so haunted by those three strange dreams that he was afraid of even a shadow. He wanted to set foot on solid ground on a continent's mountains and rivers as soon as possible, especially to use the Demon-Suppressing Tower in Tongye Continent to verify truth from falsehood and help "interpret his dreams."
In fact, reality proved Chen Ping'an hadn't wasted his efforts. The reason he had suddenly crouched down earlier was that he had nearly stumbled, which immediately set his mind at ease.
After standing up, Chen Ping'an deliberately straightened his back and no longer hunched. This subtle action made Chen Ping'an feel even more uncomfortable, but it brought greater benefits to his physical body.
Walking was the best form of stance training; it was like practicing fists without stopping. Even every slightly larger breath Chen Ping'an took felt as if the remaining damaged qi of Tongye Continent was gathering and manifesting as a grandmaster of martial arts, feeding Chen Ping'an punches.
He felt that if he could fight a fierce battle, the bottleneck of a ninth-level mountain-peak martial artist might loosen. Intuition told Chen Ping'an that breaking through to become a Peak martial artist would be extremely difficult. Not only was he not in a hurry to break through, but he also cherished more and more this invisible tempering provided by Tongye Continent, his natural "training ground."
The reasoning was simple. Someone had once said that the fight for the tenth level would determine the future difference in martial arts achievement between him and Cao Ci. Would he lose three consecutive matches and then lose all the way for the rest of his life? Or, after many years apart, in a fourth sparring session, could Chen Ping'an finally win a round? The first step depended on whether he could step into the realm of Peak martial arts as the strongest ninth-level.
A young female cultivator left the Variegated Garment Ferry and found Chen Ping'an and his group. She stood gracefully, halting in place.
Chen Ping'an pretended not to recognize her identity. "You are?"
The Wusun Lan female cultivator cradled a letter and painting box made of Hainan pear wood, elegantly crafted. The four corners of the small box were inlaid with white bronze ornaments featuring Ruyi patterns, and there were cloud-head toggles carved from sheep-fat jade. It was clearly an antique from the palace. She looked at this middle-aged man wearing a bamboo hat and laughed. "My master, the manager of the Variegated Garment Ferry, asked me to bring this to you, immortal master. I hope you won't refuse. Inside are one hundred and eight sheets of our Wusun Lan colored notepapers."
Chen Ping'an lightly tapped his bamboo hat, quickly took the wooden letter and painting box, thanked Manager Huang Lin, and then said with emotion, "If I had known this, I wouldn't have peeled off the colored note from the wine flask. I'll stick it back on later, so my friends won't fail to recognize its worth."
The female cultivator transmitted directly to his mind: "My master told me to pass a message to you, immortal master. The Confucian Temple in the Central Earth once ordered a five-year ban on landscape gazettes on the mountains. It's still half a year before the ban is lifted. So our ferry doesn't want to sell them, but we really are powerless."
Chen Ping'an felt somewhat helpless. No wonder not long after boarding the ship, he had sensed a heavenly mirror light and an immortal's aura quietly roaming outside the ferry. It turned out that he, a Tongye Continent cultivator, had inadvertently revealed his identity. Later, when the ferry encountered a mirage, if he hadn't acted decisively, the drinking party owed at the Reed Flower Island ancestral hall might have been made up on the Variegated Garment Ferry. Besides the Da Rang River Nascent Soul sword cultivator and that Streamer Sunset Continent female immortal Cong Qian, there might have been other experts joining as guests.
On the Variegated Garment Ferry, the Wusun Lan's deputy offering elder, Huang Lin, was actually a proper Confucian academy scholar. Earlier, when he had used texts to suppress the water spirits, Huang Lin had relied on his pure Confucian qi, speaking with the force of law, clearing away many obstacles of the mirage. There was also that phrase from the sage's book: "Far away, holding the imperial decree." As for how Huang Lin had abandoned his status as a gentleman or worthy to become an offering elder of Wusun Lan, perhaps it was a case of mismatched marriages in chaotic times?
Chen Ping'an couldn't help thinking of that young cultivator on the ferry who had teased him. Good kid, quite the actor! Delicate regular script? The youth seemed to be clowning around, but his mind was actually stable, with no flaws in his words or expression. He had even fooled Chen Ping'an.
So Chen Ping'an said, "There's a young attendant on your ferry. Although his aptitude for cultivation isn't the best, his temperament is good. He's a promising seedling. He might achieve great success later in life."
The young female cultivator smiled gracefully and even performed a bow. "Taking advantage of the elder's auspicious words, I'll thank the elder on behalf of my brother."
A good parting with good will.
Chen Ping'an led the children to find the ferry's pavilion building at the entrance of the Drive Mountain Ferry market.
As the southernmost ferry crossing in Tongye Continent, Drive Mountain Ferry not only docked cross-continent ferries like the Variegated Garment Ferry but also had three mountain routes heading in three directions: to Yellow Flower Ferry, Immortal Boat Ferry, and Parrot Isle. None of these ferries reached the middle of Tongye Continent; they were all small ferry crossings. Neither the "Annals of Mountains and Seas" nor the "Supplement" had recorded them. Among them, Yellow Flower Ferry was the only way to reach the Jade Gui Sect.
Chen Ping'an found it strange. Why hadn't the Jade Gui Sect occupied Drive Mountain Ferry? According to the "Supplement," the immortal sect that dominated the Daying Dynasty was a vassal sect of the Jade Gui Sect. Both by reason and by interest, the Jade Gui Sect should rightfully help the mortal dynasty below clean up the vast old mountains and rivers in southern Tongye Continent. The Daying Dynasty was certainly of utmost importance, and calling Yu Prefecture a place contested by military strategists wouldn't be an exaggeration. Even stranger, the immortal master in charge of the large and small ferry matters at Drive Mountain Ferry spoke Tongye dialect but with a distinct accent of the Bai'ai Continent.
Chen Ping'an and his large group of children attracted particular attention.
Moreover, those nine children looked like they couldn't have poor aptitude as cultivation seedlings. This naturally aroused envy and also made people somewhat wary.
But certainly no one would believe that these nine children were not only sword cultivators who had already nurtured their life-bound flying swords but also sword immortal seeds among sword cultivators.
Moreover, they were sword immortal seeds from Sword Qi Wall.
Such a sight, no matter where it happened, even in some ancestral sword-themed immortal sect, with a sword immortal personally leading an outing, would be terrifying and inconceivable. So even if Chen Ping'an shouted at the top of his lungs, as long as the nine children didn't all unleash their flying swords, no one would believe it. In the entire vast Tongye Continent, not to mention appearing publicly, there were very few sects that could gather so many sword-cultivating children. Even if an upper-fifth-tier sword immortal personally protected them, they wouldn't dare act so recklessly.
Chen Ping'an deliberately took out a Grain Rain coin and got back a few Minor Heat coins. He bought ten jade tablets for boarding passes. Now, the cost of riding a ferry in immortal money had more than doubled. The reason was simple: immortal money was now much more valuable than before. Those immortal masters who could afford to travel far by ferry now were definitely truly wealthy.
However, as long as a qi cultivator's luck wasn't too bad, they might have a chance to recoup this travel expense. It was more a test of eyesight. The amount of money earned depended on the opportunity.
In prosperous times, antique treasures were collected. In chaotic times, gold was most valuable. In chaotic times, antiques once worth a thousand gold were often at cabbage prices, but the cheaper they were, the less people wanted them. But when an era began to transition from chaos to order, that was the best time for many mountain and marsh wild cultivators to pick up bargains everywhere. This was also one reason why cultivators valued dimension storage items so much. As for inch storage items, that was a delusion; one might as well dream.
Now, qi cultivators traveling down the mountains in foreign lands were basically of two types: those going down to relax and seek opportunities, and those looking to make money in the mortal world. Compared to ferry tourists from earlier years, they either had higher cultivation or stronger backing, and they were also more cautious in their actions.
Just like today, when Chen Ping'an led the children on a stroll through the market shops. There were quite a few people on the road, but almost everyone intentionally kept a certain distance. Even when entering crowded shops, they were very cautious.
As for someone like Chen Ping'an, leading a bunch of children on a down-mountain journey, no one dared to provoke them easily. They would avoid them if possible.
Chen Ping'an flipped those few Minor Heat coins. One of them had a seal script he had never seen before—an unexpected surprise. The seal scripts on the front and back were, respectively: "Water connects the five lakes" and "Sword suppresses the four seas."
Chen Ping'an had started collecting Minor Heat coins early on, because Minor Heat coins were the only immortal coins with different seal scripts.
According to legend, Minor Heat coins crafted by different famous minters in history had over three hundred types of seal scripts. Chen Ping'an had painstakingly collected for more than twenty years and still had fewer than eighty kinds. A long road ahead; he needed to earn more money.
He should quickly start a little stall.
There were still two hours before the Yellow Flower Ferry would dock and berth. Chen Ping'an took the children to browse the market. All kinds of shops: paintings and calligraphy, ceramics, miscellaneous items. Countless large and small objects. There were even imperial decrees and dragon robes. There were also bundles of books, like firewood just brought down from the mountains, casually piled on the ground, tied with straw ropes, many damaged. The shop had set up a wooden sign saying they were sold by weight, so the shop assistants didn't bother to hawk them. Customers had to check the sign themselves. The wind and snow had just stopped. Once, scholarly families would weigh their purses to buy a rare book or two. Now many were waterlogged, like useless weak scholars drowning.
As Chen Ping'an walked along, he glanced at the goods in various shops. Most were antiques and treasures in the secular sense of dynasties and vassals. Since they had no spiritual qi, they couldn't be counted as spiritual tools. Whether something could be called a mountain spiritual tool depended on whether it contained nourishing spiritual qi that lasted over time. Spiritual tools could be divided into dead objects and living objects. For example, an old inkstone or a worn-out brush might have absorbed a bit of the literary fortune of former sages, and the spiritual qi would be abundant. If poorly preserved or consumed too much by alchemists, they would become ordinary items. A whisk or a prayer mat that had long accompanied a Daoist high priest might not necessarily absorb much spiritual qi. Similarly, a dragon robe or a python robe might not necessarily retain some dragon qi.
Living objects among spiritual tools had higher ranks. On the mountains, they were elegantly called "things of nature and spirit," generally able to absorb the spiritual qi of heaven and earth and nourish their own material.
As for dharma artifacts, not to mention ordinary mortals, even mountain-and-marsh wild cultivators who had already embarked on the path of cultivation might not see a few in their lifetime. In fact, wild cultivators below the Earth Immortal level weren't too keen on encountering dharma artifacts, because their appearance often meant they would be fighting for their lives against registered immortal masters. If they won by luck, hitting the junior would bring the elder. They rarely gained any advantage. If they lost, no one might even collect their corpse.
Chen Ping'an only bought an inconspicuous short stabbing sword and a black-sheathed waist knife with gilded kui dragon fittings. These could barely be considered spiritual tools, probably because they had once been enshrined in local martial temples or city god pavilions, absorbing some residual incense aura. In the secular martial world below the mountains, they could be considered two divine weapons, each selling for five or six thousand silver taels without difficulty. Chen Ping'an paid ten Snow Flower coins; the shop said it was a buy-one-get-one-free deal. Actually, if Chen Ping'an tried to resell them, there wouldn't be much profit. The only item he might have gotten a bargain on was a genuine spiritual tool. It was a stone sundial made of jade-like material, with the inscription "jade balustrade and red railings" from a book. The inscription on the back showed it was an old possession of some nation's imperial observatory. The shop's price was eight Snow Flower coins. In Chen Ping'an's eyes, its true price was at least quadruple that. It could be sold easily, but it was too large. If Chen Ping'an had been wandering the market alone, he would have carried it on his back anyway, since he had once carried an even larger caisson.
If Chen Ping'an were the shopkeeper, he wouldn't have priced it at eight Snow Flower coins. That was too awkward. A qi cultivator without a dimension storage item—would he pay eight Snow Flower coins and then be unable to sell it in the short term, forced to carry such a large item through the crowd while traveling south and north? He might as well price it at one Minor Heat coin, so that the buyer would feel more motivated carrying it. The feeling of having eight Snow Flower coins in one's pocket versus one Minor Heat coin—could it be the same? Certainly not.
So in the end, Chen Ping'an crouched down at the "Little Book Mountain" and started rummaging, picking carefully, mostly just lifting a corner of a page. Unexpectedly, a shop assistant at the door said, "If you're not buying, don't flip through." Chen Ping'an looked up and said with a smile, "I'm buying." Only then did the young assistant turn to attend to other valued guests.
Chen Ping'an selected several pounds of books secretly printed with official seals. They used government document paper, each page stamped with an official seal and marked with the reign name. There was a bundle of factory-printed series, with notes on who wrote, printed, carved, and printed them. The paper was extremely thick. There was also a bundle of blooming-paper books from a private library, with clear transmission lineage, yet they felt as fresh as new to the touch. Clearly, they had been hidden away for centuries, truly rare treasures of the book world.
But the truly valuable books—those so valuable that even the shop cultivators had heard of them, such as certain secret imperial palace editions—were treated differently.
Chen Ping'an bought a large sack of books, carrying them on his back—the bundle was solid, over a hundred catties.
All he paid was five Snow Flower coins. One Snow Flower coin could buy twenty catties of books. If Chen Ping'an had haggled, he probably could have paid the same amount but carried away twenty more catties.
But Chen Ping'an didn't haggle with the shop. He was afraid that if he started, he would end up buying everything, and then not even an inch storage item could hold it all.
Better to rely on visual affinity.
Among the children, only Nalan Yudie picked out books. The little girl took a fancy to a few, ignoring details like paper quality, palace editions, official or private carvings, or marginal owner seals. She only chose books with beautifully delicate fonts. She wanted to pay, but Chen Ping'an said it was complimentary. All the books together weighed less than a catty, so no need. The little girl seemed to have earned rather than saved money, and she was extremely happy.
Chen Ping'an couldn't help smiling a little.
A fellow traveler who had also been on the Variegated Garment Ferry stood on the road, as if waiting for Chen Ping'an.
Chen Ping'an had actually noticed this person long ago. Earlier, at the Drive Mountain Ferry pavilion building, Chen Ping'an's group had exited, and this man had entered right after. It seemed he would also go to Yellow Flower Ferry.
This sword cultivator from Golden Armor Continent, stuck at the golden core bottleneck, had once acted chivalrously on the ferry, helping Huang Lin. He had unleashed a flying sword inscribed with black talismanic script, its momentum astonishing, full of sword immortal bearing. But the outcome wasn't entirely satisfactory.
When he saw Chen Ping'an approaching, he immediately clasped his hands and spoke via mind transmission: "Junior Gao Yunshu, greetings, senior."
Chen Ping'an, carrying a large bundle on his back with both hands holding the straw rope, didn't return the clasped-hands salute. He nodded and asked in the refined Central Earth Pulu language with a smile, "Does Sword Immortal Gao have business with me?"
This was a case of returning favor for favor: you call me senior, I return with sword immortal.
Earlier, Gao Yunshu had played a little trick by speaking in the Golden Armor continent language.
Now, being addressed as "sword immortal" by the other party evidently made the not-so-thick-skinned Gao Yunshu feel somewhat embarrassed. He was certain that this seemingly unremarkable blade-wielder was the sword immortal who had split the mirage with a single sword strike and driven back the great mirage.
Although the other party hadn't brushed past him and had instead smiled at him with great patience, Gao Yunshu still felt tremendous pressure at this moment. He felt that just standing before this senior was like a duel of swords between them. If they disagreed, they would fight to the death. Gao Yunshu quickly took a deep breath, steeled himself, and said, "Could I have the honor of treating the senior to a drink?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head.
Gao Yunshu seemed to want to say more but held back.
Chen Ping'an asked with a smile, "Brother Gao, are you thanking a sword immortal, or are you thanking a stranger for a life-saving act?"
The same gratitude, but two different intentions.
That Sword Immortal Gao was actually an honest man. Far from feeling insulted by the question, he felt relieved. He replied, "Naturally both. The sword immortal senior acted without leaving a name and even helped retrieve my flying sword, which saved half my life. I'm extremely grateful. If I could get to know such a generous and spirited sword immortal senior, that would be best. To be honest, I'm a wild cultivator by origin. Sword cultivators in Golden Armor Continent are few and far between. Getting to know one is harder than climbing to heaven. But I'm also unwilling to become a restrained offering elder. So if I could make the acquaintance of a sword immortal without any profit motive, even if I turned back home right now, this journey would be well worth it."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "Sword Immortal Gao, your sincerity in dealing with others earns my admiration."
Gao Yunshu asked, "Senior, are you really not that Sword Immortal Xu from my homeland?"
Chen Ping'an looked puzzled. "Sword Immortal Xu? Forgive my ignorance. Could Sword Immortal Gao tell me about him? We can talk as we walk."
Gao Yunshu followed Chen Ping'an on a stroll, speaking with great candor. He not only talked about that sword immortal but also shared his own intentions.
The "Sword Immortal Xu" Gao Yunshu mentioned was a great sword immortal who had burst onto the scene in Golden Armor Continent. The world didn't yet know his real name, only that his surname was Xu, that he was a native Golden Armor sword cultivator, and that he had reached the upper fifth tier. Yet before the great war, he had been completely unknown. It was said that this Sword Immortal Xu and the "inscribing" old sword immortal from Sword Qi Wall, Qi Tingji, had gotten along well. Gao Yunshu wanted to come here to try his luck. If Senior Xu intended to establish a sect in Golden Armor Continent, Gao Yunshu wanted to follow him, at least claiming the nominal title of one of the founding patriarchs.
Chen Ping'an casually asked about the situation on the Golden Armor battlefield. Gao Yunshu spilled it all like bamboo beans, not minding telling this senior more.
Among the things mentioned were Cao Ci of the Central Earth and two female martial arts masters from his homeland. But since Gao Yunshu was a mountain-and-marsh wild cultivator and the landscape gazettes had been banned by the Confucian Temple, he had only heard rumors: one woman surnamed Shi, another surnamed Pei. Gao Yunshu guessed that since the latter was surnamed Pei, such a coincidence probably meant she was from the Great Duan Dynasty. He sincerely marveled that the Great Duan Dynasty's martial arts fortune was so overwhelmingly prosperous—not only did they produce the pair of Pei Bei and Cao Ci, but now another genius seemed to have emerged, even younger than Cao Ci. Whether it was Distant Travel or Mountain Peak realm, it was hard to say. But even Distant Travel was already astonishing. Could it be that half of the world's martial arts fortune truly came from Great Duan?
Chen Ping'an roughly calculated in his mind. Back when the inscription "Wanyan Old View" was carved on the sixty-year rampart, Shi Zaixi was Yu Juanfu. As for that female martial artist younger than Cao Ci, could she be another direct disciple of Martial God Pei Bei?
After listening, Chen Ping'an laughed. "I'm really not that 'Sword Immortal Xu.'"
He reached out and patted the handle of his narrow saber, Zan Kan, indicating that he was a pure martial artist.
Gao Yunshu mustered his courage and probed, "Then why did Manager Huang Lin single out the senior, specially sending someone to deliver a wooden box?"
Gao Yunshu quickly swore, "Senior, please don't misunderstand. I just happened to see it accidentally. The fact is, from the moment the senior boarded the ship, he was quite distinctive, leaving a deep impression on me."
Good heavens, what sharp eyes. So he had found clues and came to bump into Chen Ping'an deliberately?
Chen Ping'an didn't bother to explain further. He stopped using mind transmission, clasped his hands, and said, "Since we're just passing acquaintances, let's leave it at that."
Gao Yunshu nodded. He didn't dare press further. What if this really was a sword immortal with divine sword skills? Whether or not he was the fellow countryman Xu, since the other party had made his stance clear, Gao Yunshu shouldn't overstep. He decisively returned the clasped-hands salute. "Then I wish the senior a smooth journey!"
He was stubbornly convinced the other was a sword immortal.
Even though the other called him "Sword Immortal Gao" the whole time.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Then I also wish Brother Gao that your dreams come true on this trip."
Gao Yunshu laughed heartily. "We'll part here."
Chen Ping'an squinted and nodded.
Gao Yunshu turned and strode away, heading back to the Drive Mountain Ferry pavilion building. He needed to change ferry crossings and find a landing spot for his northward journey.
Yu Xieqing said quietly, "See that? Jianghu—this is jianghu."
Cheng Chaolu whispered to Nalan Yudie, "Yudie, why didn't you copy down that sentence Master Cao just said?"
The little girl raised her sleeve and glared. "Do I have room in my brush, ink, paper, and inkstone?"
Cheng Chaolu was about to argue that Nalan Yudie only needed paper and brush to write things down. But before he could speak, Chen Ping'an reached out and pressed his head, teasing, "If you don't want to be a bachelor for life, don't say anything."
In fact, all the children, even the slowest to catch on, had noticed one thing: Lord Hidden Officer cared most about Yao Xiaoyan and Nalan Yudie. Although he treated everyone equally with a calm demeanor, not esteeming or belittling anyone based on their realm or flying sword rank, his gaze toward those two little girls was especially gentle, like looking at his own juniors.
When it was time to eat, Chen Ping'an looked around and finally chose a tavern. He asked the attendant for a private room. He didn't order any alcohol. When the food was served, Chen Ping'an ate sparingly, chewing slowly.
Bai Xuan and Nalan Yudie sat on either side of Chen Ping'an. It wasn't because they were at the Cave Dwelling realm, higher than the others, but because they were bold and not shy with strangers.
These children had never left their cabins once on the Variegated Garment Ferry.
Even after getting off at Drive Mountain Ferry, they were well-behaved in a way that didn't match their age and temperament.
But children from Sword Qi Wall, especially when they were innate sword immortal seeds, were originally the most "unaware of the vastness of heaven and earth." Because there were too many sword immortals, everywhere. And those sword immortals who descended from the city walls might very well be the children's family elders, teachers, or neighbors.
Nalan Yudie said, "Master Cao, how about I pay the bill today?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head with a smile. "I appreciate the thought, but you don't need to pay."
Nalan Yudie said, "I have many Grain Rain coins. When Grandmaster Grandma gave me that dimension storage item, it was full of immortal money. Grandmaster Grandma always said if money doesn't move, you can't earn money."
Chen Ping'an said helplessly, "Don't just listen to half of what she says. Otherwise, no amount of money will last. Money only needs to move if it's in a businessman's hands, moving from door to door."
Nalan Yudie blinked. "Then I'll go into business with Master Cao. I'll give all my money to Master Cao to manage, and later when we earn a profit, you give me a cut."
Chen Ping'an couldn't help but laugh. He put down his chopsticks and waved his hand. "No, no."
Grandmaster Grandma—Nalan Caihuan?
He wondered if she had established a sect in the Haoran World now.
The little girl seemed a bit crestfallen. Chen Ping'an comforted her, "No rush. If there's ever a real money-making opportunity, I'll ask you."
While eating, Chen Ping'an kept his ears open to the conversations at the tables outside. But there was little grand talk of ruling the world; mostly people were discussing money-making strategies in low voices.
The group boarded the immortal ferry to Yellow Flower Ferry on time. After arranging the children into two groups, Chen Ping'an sat quietly in his room for a moment, then "took off" his bamboo hat and walked alone to the bow.
Bai Xuan soon appeared beside Chen Ping'an and transmitted to his mind: "Why don't you let us hide in the little cave heaven? That way, Master Cao could return to your hometown sooner, right?"
Chen Ping'an patiently explained, "If I traveled alone, flying by wind toward Vase Bottle Continent, encountering any accident would be a big deal. Rushing through the mountains by wind isn't necessarily the fastest way. By following the ferry, many accidents will avoid us. Going by sea, there are more great demons hiding, like that great mirage. Going by land, though it means crossing an entire continent's mountains and rivers, is much calmer. Besides, I have many friends on Tongye Continent I need to meet."
Bai Xuan nodded, stood on tiptoe, gripped the railing with both hands, and looked somewhat worried. After a moment of silence, he spoke up, "Master Cao, my life-bound flying sword is very ordinary, not high in rank. So my elders said I won't achieve much—at most a local immortal, even becoming a Nascent Soul sword cultivator would require great luck. That's still at home. Here, I might stop at Golden Core sword cultivator for life."
Chen Ping'an hadn't deliberately asked all the children about their life-bound flying swords, and they hadn't brought it up either.
However, when Chen Ping'an took over the Summer Retreat Palace as Lord Hidden Officer, he had initiated a measure to rank sword cultivators' flying swords at Sword Qi Wall. But the screening method was extremely utilitarian: life-bound objects with great killing power and suited for one-on-one combat were ranked lower than flying swords suitable for battlefield deployment.
Bored, the child lightly bumped his forehead against the railing.
Chen Ping'an folded his hands on the railing and said casually, "Cultivation is about what you do under your feet every day. Where you stand after many years is a future matter. Since it's a matter that doesn't benefit from much deliberation now, you might as well worry about it when the worry comes. You can always drink then anyway. I can't say much else, but I certainly have plenty of good wine here."
Bai Xuan was surprised. "I thought Master Cao would comfort me with pretty words."
Chen Ping'an joked, "I do have pretty words, enough to fill several large baskets."
Bai Xuan hesitated, then sighed. "After talking privately with Master Cao like this, I guess I won't be able to stay friends with Yu Qingzhang and the others when I go back."
Chen Ping'an smiled but didn't say anything.
Bai Xuan asked curiously, "Master Cao isn't curious?"
Chen Ping'an looked into the distance. "I can roughly guess. Back then, that group of sword cultivators risked their lives to rescue sword immortals captured by great demons. I stopped them, which hurt a lot of hearts. I suspect some of those sword cultivators were the elders or masters of Yu Qingzhang and the others."
Bai Xuan was even more puzzled. "Don't you dislike Yu Qingzhang and the others for being ungrateful? Even an idiot knows you did it for the good of Sword Qi Wall."
Chen Ping'an said softly, "Who says doing a good deed doesn't hurt people's hearts? It often hurts them even more."
Bai Xuan shook his head. "I still think Yu Qingzhang and the others are wrong."
Chen Ping'an didn't want to discuss it further.
Bai Xuan continued on his own, "The master of my master was one of those sword cultivators. After my grandmaster died, my master never said a bad word about the Lord Hidden Officer. He didn't stop me from becoming the Little Hidden Officer either. He even praised me for having ambition."
Chen Ping'an patted the child's head. "Your master is very remarkable."
Bai Xuan looked up and grinned. "Then when Master Cao meets that Chen Li someday, could you discuss letting me take over the title of Little Hidden Officer?"
Chen Ping'an said, "We'll talk about it when we meet."
Bai Xuan complained, "Scholars are indecisive, always talking in circles, saying vague things that only benefit themselves without losing anything."
Chen Ping'an turned around and nodded. "That's not good. I should change. So I'll give you an answer now: no."
Bai Xuan opened his eyes wide, sighed, put his hands behind his back, and walked back to his cabin alone, leaving the stingy Master Cao to drink the wind by himself.
It was early spring, still chilly but warming. The earth was covered with spring mountains, yellow flowers competing to bloom. The mortal world thanked the East Lord together.
A man in a blue shirt, with a saber at his waist and a wine flask tied on, looked down at the earth, not withdrawing his gaze for a long time.
Chen Ping'an suddenly remembered something. His first disciple—was she already at the Golden Body realm now? And her height... was she as tall as He Gu?
He leaned on the railing, squinting with a smile, the corners of his mouth tilting up.
Earlier on the Variegated Garment Ferry, there had been a young man from Golden Armor Continent on his first journey far from home. He had stared wide-eyed, his mind shaken, dazedly watching the brilliant sword light of that Rainbow-Cutting Talisman. It slashed down in a line, a sword immortal's strike, as if splitting heaven and earth. He saw no figure of the sword immortal, only the dazzling sword light, like the most beautiful painting between heaven and earth. So at that moment, the young man made up his mind: he would learn talismans and also practice the sword. What if, just what if, because of him, Golden Armor Continent could have one more sword immortal?
Chen Ping'an naturally knew nothing about that.
Just like many years ago, amid the drifting landscape mirage of a bright red wedding dress, Wei Jin of Wind Snow Temple also never knew that there was a straw-sandal boy, wide-eyed, staring in a daze at the magnificent sword light that split the sky.
Chen Ping'an returned to his room and wrote a secret letter, entrusting it to the ferry's sword guard room to be sent by flying sword to the Divine Talisman Peak of the Jade Gui Sect.
Recipient: Jiang Shangzhen. Sender's signature: Cao Mo of Suijia City.
When sending letters by flying sword on the mountains, the sender could hide their name, deliberately omit it, but the recipient's name or Daoist alias could not be missing.
Of course, there were exceptions. For some mountain-peak cultivators, they only needed to write their own name, casually scribble "To the Ancestral Hall of So-and-So," and it would work even better.
Chen Ping'an didn't care about the strange looks from the sword guard room cultivators.
After all, he was no longer the Chen Ping'an who had first traveled Tongye Continent, cautious with every step.
After Chen Ping'an left, a young sword guard cultivator asked cautiously, "A big shot?"
An old man in charge of the ferry's sword room sneered, "Obviously a con man. Couldn't he come up with a fresh trick? I've seen this several times. Don't bother with such characters. I guarantee this letter will gather dust in the archives of Divine Talisman Peak for centuries. Once, there was a guy on the Tianque Peak ferry who deliberately spent a few immortal coins to send a letter to Old Sect Master Xun. He managed to trick two proper registered female cultivators—one was the deputy manager of the ferry's sword room, the other a woman he had just met. They only found out later that the guy was nothing but a failed mountain-and-marsh wild cultivator. When they finally caught him, all they could do was beat him up. They couldn't really do anything to him. No matter how you argued, it was still a matter of mutual consent between man and woman, wasn't it? All they could do was swallow a bitter pill and take it as a lesson."
A young girl in the sword room listened and blushed. No wonder she felt that blue-shirted man had been staring at her. So he was a lecher with ill intentions.
The old man laughed. "That's still a shallow one. There are even more skilled methods. Some pretend to be deposed crown princes, carrying fake imperial jade seals and dragon robes in their luggage, and then 'accidentally' let a woman see them. Others hang a wine flask at their waist. Even if a sword immortal travels down the mountain with a gourd for nurturing swords, they would use an illusion technique, right? So some people take a small broken gourd, perform a little water magic, and drink constantly in crowded places like the ship's bow."
The young man suddenly realized, "That guy seemed to have a small vermilion wine flask hanging. He wasn't drinking, probably because he spotted an old expert like you here and didn't dare to show off his clumsy tricks."
The old man stroked his beard and smiled. "That guy is green. He only humiliated himself by coming to me."
The young girl felt a lingering fear. The more she thought about it, the more that man indeed seemed furtive, with a shifty look. Too bad about those eyes.
After the girl busied herself, still flushed and annoyed, the sword room manager old man quickly gave the young man a wink. The latter grinned and clasped his hands in thanks. The old man held up two fingers. The young man waved one finger—just one jug of wine, no more.
As for whether that man really knew the Jade Gui Sect's Sect Leader Jiang, it wasn't that important. After all, someone like Jiang Shangzhen would only have friends who were far above them, unapproachable.
The young man suddenly asked, "Where is Suijia City?"
The old man shook his head. "Never heard of it. Probably just making things up."
The young man joked, "He could have signed it from Peace Mountain or the Fu Ji Sect."
The old man snorted coldly. "If anyone dared to insult Peace Mountain and Fu Ji Sect like that, I would immediately fall out with them and throw them off the ferry."
The young girl suddenly looked up and whispered, "The old site of Peace Mountain is now masterless. Aren't there a lot of people fighting over the territory?"
The old man seemed about to say something but stopped, finally sighing deeply.
Chen Ping'an hadn't actually gone far.
He stopped upon hearing the last sentence, his face expressionless, his eyes unfathomable.
The immortal sect that once owned Yellow Flower Ferry had been destroyed in the war, reduced to ruins. The entire ancestral mountain had been leveled by immortal techniques.
But that middle-aged blue-shirted blade-wielder with a large group of dependents—he and the children had strangely not appeared at Yellow Flower Ferry. They seemed to have vanished midway. The ferry only knew that before docking, that middle-aged man had returned to the ferry's sword room one more time and sent another letter to Divine Talisman Peak.
On a stormy night, Chen Ping'an, wearing a jade hairpin, silently broke through the ferry's restrictions. He flew north alone by wind. After putting more than ten miles between himself and the ferry, he switched from wind-riding to sword-flight. Thunder roared in the sky, shaking people's hearts. Great omens appeared between heaven and earth, so terrifying that everyone on the ferry behind was horrified, and the entire ferry had to hurriedly detour.
———
Within a hundred miles of Drive Mountain Ferry, the terrain was flat, except for a single mountain peak that stood out prominently. Atop that peak was a mountain ridge platform carved into a chessboard for elephant chess. Thirty-two chess pieces, each as large as a stone pier and weighing a thousand catties. Two cultivators stood at opposite ends of the board, playing a game. Each time they lost a piece to the opponent, they had to give up one Grain Rain coin—light gambling between upper-fifth-tier cultivators.
One of them was young and handsome, only two hundred years old, a renowned great sword immortal from Golden Armor Continent, nicknamed "Sword Immortal Xu," whose true name was Xu Xie. Somehow, he had become a guest retainer of the Liu family of Bai'ai Continent. This time, he had come by flying sword to the southernmost part of Tongye Continent to protect a new money bowl for Liu the Great Financier from Bai'ai Continent. For example, the Variegated Garment Ferry had been bought on credit from the Liu family by Wusun Lan for a huge amount of Grain Rain coins. Not only did the Liu family provide a ready-made cross-continent ferry at a fair price, but the agreed share of the ferry's profits for the next five hundred years also surprised the Wusun Lan cultivators.
For Tongye Continent, a great sword immortal who had delivered thousands of sword strikes on the Golden Armor battlefield was a true crossing dragon.
What really made mountain-peak cultivators feel complicated was that this Xu Xie seemed to be one of those who had answered the call of destiny.
As a local snake, Wang Ji was a native Tongye qi cultivator, Jade Abyss realm. He called himself a disciple of Guai Cliff and also had the alias "Forester Old Man." Though not a sword cultivator, he had loved wandering with a sword since youth and was fond of martial arts. He had a refined appearance but was nicknamed "Executioner" among the mountains. He started cultivating very late, having been a government official for thirty years, starting as a pure-stream civil official. He had personally killed with his sword: evil servants, corrupt clerks, and forest bandits, dozens in total. Later, he resigned and retired, becoming a mountain-and-marsh wild cultivator upon leaving the mountain, eventually becoming an offering elder of the Jade Gui Sect, with a seat in its ancestral hall. But before that, Wang Ji had been the upper-fifth-tier cultivator on the entire Tongye Continent who had cursed Jiang Shangzhen the most—no exception.
So this trip south to Yu Prefecture's Drive Mountain Ferry was Wang Ji's way of handling the scolding for the Jade Gui Sect.
The mediator on both sides was a female cultivator who had come here to relax temporarily. She was the junior sister of Streamer Sunset Continent's immortal Cong Qian and also the wife of the cave heaven master of Tianyu Cave Heaven. She was exquisitely beautiful, with a malachite flower crown, a brocade robe, and a graceful figure. Her son was one of the ten young candidates, but he was currently on the fifth world, so mother and son wouldn't see each other for about eighty years. Every time she thought of this, she complained that her husband had been too heartless to let their son travel to another world.
Wang Ji casually tossed out a Grain Rain coin and asked, "When will the cross-continent ferries from Old Dragon City arrive at Drive Mountain Ferry?"
Xu Xie didn't take the Grain Rain coin. Instead, he crushed it on the spot, turning it into a dense cloud of spiritual qi. This mountain beneath their feet was itself a formation carefully crafted by Liu family cultivators, capable of gathering spiritual qi and landscape luck from all around. Xu Xie's expression was indifferent. "They'll be visible when they arrive at the ferry."
Wang Ji sneered, "Careful—strong winds and rough waves, seasickness. Capsizing on both land and water."
Xu Xie remained expressionless. "Capsize? Your Sect Leader Jiang will be the one to overturn them, I suppose. As long as one capsizes, I'll go to Divine Talisman Peak to seek a duel."
Wang Ji clicked his tongue. "From your tone, you're sure you won't lose?"
Xu Xie said, "Eighty percent chance of losing. But that won't stop me from seeking the duel."
Wang Ji stomped his foot, kicking up a chess piece, and let it land somewhere on the board. He gave Xu Xie a thumbs-up. "No wonder you know Qi Tingji."
Xu Xie said, "You also know Xu Xie. Not bad."
Wang Ji laughed exasperatedly. "If you ever meet Jiang Shangzhen, either you fight to the death or you become boon companions. No other possibility."
The Streamer Sunset female cultivator shook her head. She really didn't know why these two hadn't fought yet. Every day they competed on the chessboard and bickered like this. Wasn't it actually a sign that they got along quite well?
Xu Xie suddenly asked, "Is Jiang Shangzhen really in seclusion, or is it fake seclusion?"
Wang Ji sighed, for the first time somewhat sentimentally, "Who knows? The last time we had an ancestral hall meeting, he looked sickly, half-dead. It was heartbreaking to see."
Xu Xie glanced northward.
This smoky, human-hearted, ghost-infested Tongye Continent—he really couldn't like it.
Knowing wrong but not admitting it—trouble-free. Admitting wrong but unwilling to change—effortless.
Good, trouble-free and effortless. As a result, many people had actually survived. This messy mess of returning to the Haoran World wasn't much better than when it had fallen into the Wild World's hands.
Just one thing: the ruins of Peace Mountain Sect. Since there was no longer a single Peace Mountain cultivator left in Tongye Continent, how many mountain forces were coveting that territory? Both in the open and in the shadows, they were restless.
Fu Ji Sect was slightly better—they had left some incense fire. Even if the situation was precarious, under the protection of the academy, that small group of low-realm Fu Ji cultivators could still legitimately guard their ancestral mountain. For now, no one dared to touch it. But what about ten years later, a hundred years later? Mountain cultivators had many means that stretched thousands of miles; it was far more than just forceful seizure. The academy could protect them for a while, but not forever. By the time Fu Ji Sect's young sect leader returned from the brand-new world, the Fu Ji ancestral hall might only have a nominal sect leader's seat left. Even if he took his seat, it might be surrounded by soft knives coming from all directions.
Xu Xie had a Confucian background, though he had never studied at the academy in Golden Armor Continent. So did Wang Ji, who was playing chess with Xu Xie.
Wang Ji plopped down on a chess piece and said helplessly, "'Nothing is more visible than the hidden, nothing is more manifest than the subtle. Therefore the gentleman is cautious in his solitude.' We scholars of principle and moralists—the deepest effort lies in those two words: cautious solitude. Always be able to bow down with no shame before the quilt and shadow, lift the head with no shame before the leaking roof and heaven."
Xu Xie rarely seconded Wang Ji. He nodded. "When others look at you, it's as if they see your lungs and liver."
Wang Ji sighed. "Once the academy is fully rebuilt, the situation will definitely improve."
Wang Ji shook his sleeves and self-mocked, "I was originally a guest in the mountains, my life full of emotions."
The woman asked, "What's the current fate of that guy who wrote articles attacking the pure Confucian Chen Chun'an?"
The Confucian Temple had banned landscape gazettes for five years, but among mountain-peak cultivators, there were always secret ways to pass various messages.
Wang Ji sneered, "Nothing much. He's living a great life. He has a vast crowd of followers, each sincerely regarding him as a continental literary conscience and Confucian conscience. They've been shouting for years, wanting to make this government academy head into one of the seventy-two academies. Otherwise, it would mean the several major Confucian lineages of the Central Earth Confucian Temple had secretly colluded to push him out. So he's sitting pretty, stable as a rock."
The young man looked at the poems and essays of some old men, the words filled with a rotten aura. And some old men looked at young people—their vitality, their radicalism—and would smile on their faces but with dark eyes, treating them like rebellious outlaws.
When an old man was narrow-minded, petty, and blocked in his heart without knowing it, then the vitality he saw in young people, the allowance for mistakes that time gave youth, was itself a great harm. Even if the young people said nothing, they were wrong.
The young couldn't understand why those old men were so easily disappointed.
The old men coldly watched those young people go from hope to disappointment.
After a great war ended, too many young people on the mountains had died.
Many old men still sneered. They saw but pretended not to.
Xu Xie curled his lips in a sneer. "I heard from Ju Bao that Old Ancestor Yu originally wanted to remove this man as the mountain head of the dynasty's academy, but this uproar made it hard to move him, worried that it would embarrass several major lineages including the Second Sage's line. Besides, even if they removed him as head, what then? This man would only be more smug, his conscience at ease. He's probably staring eagerly at Old Ancestor Yu to make a move, so he can earn another load of sky-high reputation."
Wang Ji glanced at Xu Xie. This guy was talking more today—rare.
The Streamer Continent woman sighed deeply. "This world... something doesn't feel right, but I can't put my finger on it."
Xu Xie said gravely, "In this world, scholars like Embroidered Tiger are too few!"
Wang Ji said in a low voice, "Not just few—they're gone."
———
At the ruins of Peace Mountain.
The gate was dilapidated, the memorial archway long collapsed. A blue-shirted figure drifted down to the ground, tore off his disguise, and revealed his true face.
He crouched down and gently pressed a broken stone, barely able to make out some traces of writing.
He took off his sword-nurturing gourd and poured out an entire flask of wine.
After standing up, the young man's body hunched slightly again. He deliberately stopped straightening his back, so that his sword strikes and punches would be quicker.
A young Confucian scholar flew over from afar, his expression wary. "What are you doing? Wasn't it agreed that no one would enter the confines of Peace Mountain's ancestral mountain for the time being?!"
The man in the blue shirt with a saber at his waist smiled slightly. "Agreed? It doesn't seem to work very well, does it? So I'll just stay and guard here."
Guarding a gate? He had done that for years. He was very good at it.
The academy disciple saw that the uninvited guest was smiling with squinting eyes. The smile seemed brilliant, but for some reason, it made him feel the hairs on his back stand up, a chill running down his spine. He couldn't even utter a single word.
The man didn't say much. He simply walked forward and then turned to sit on the steps. With his back to Peace Mountain and facing the distance, he began to rest with his eyes closed.
The man suddenly asked, "What's the radius of the ancestral mountain?"
The academy disciple said gloomily, "Ten miles."
A moment later, the academy disciple, who had been formulating his words, saw a blur before his eyes. The seated figure was gone. But a small mountain more than ten miles away had been split in two, its peak divided into twin cliffs.
A Nascent Soul cultivator had just moved one step, so now he stood on what had become a "cliff edge" instead of a mountaintop. He stood still, motionless, as solid as a mountain.
Because a palm was pressing on his head. The man asked, "How do you want to die? If there are too many choices and you don't know how to choose, I can pick one for you."
His five fingers hooked like talons, imprisoning the Nascent Soul cultivator's head and soul together. "Don't waste my time looking for the next one. I don't have much patience."
Just as he was about to send his yin spirit out of his body for a distant escape, the Nascent Soul cultivator let out a wail, as if suffering the heart-piercing pain of a thousand swords. His soul and body trembled together. Before he could lower his stance to beg for mercy, his soul was stripped from his body, drawn into the man's sleeve, and his body collapsed to the ground.
At another spot, a Golden Core Earth Immortal who sensed something wrong didn't hesitate. He turned and fled by wind in an instant, covering thirty miles in a flash.
Yet somehow, he was yanked back and fell to the ground in his original spot.
A young man with an unfamiliar face put his hands in his sleeves, bent over, and asked with a smile, "Hello. I'm Chen Ping'an. I came to Peace Mountain to visit old friends and seniors. Are you a registered cultivator of Peace Mountain? If not, the outcome might not be good."
More than a hundred miles away, a deeply hidden cultivator sneered, "Friend Daoist, isn't this cruel behavior a bit too much?"
Chen Ping'an turned his head, not toward the source of the voice, but shifting his gaze about thirty miles away. "Leave the person, and I'll give you a chance to send a flying sword to call for backup. Remember, don't be a paper-thin Jade Abyss realm like yourself."
That person stopped hiding their tracks and burst into loud laughter. It turned out to be a woman.
Chen Ping'an took one step, shrinking the earth and mountains, and appeared directly beside the Jade Abyss female cultivator. "Having such a good time?"
In an instant, the face of that dignified Jade Abyss female cultivator lost its color. Her mind raced—sword immortal? Small world?
In less than the time it takes to burn one or even half an incense stick—the Confucian disciple, who was furious and helpless every day, saw the man grabbing a woman by the hair and throwing her down heavily in front of the mountain gate. She crashed to the ground. The man returned to the mountain gate, sat back down in the same spot, and gently pushed his saber out of its sheath. A bright, narrow saber embedded itself in the ground near the woman's face.
Chen Ping'an asked with a smile, "Care for some wine?"
That Confucian disciple raised his arm, wiped his forehead, shook his head, and said quietly, "Behind the scenes, there's an immortal. Making such a ruckus will definitely bring him here soon."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "I'll wait for him."
The Confucian disciple suddenly changed his mind. "Senior, give me a flask of wine to calm my nerves."
Chen Ping'an tossed over a flask of wine.
The young academy scholar caught it, took a big gulp, turned his head, and asked doubtfully, "Senior, aren't you drinking?"
The scholar saw the man shake his head. Then he bent over, put his hands in his sleeves, and looked calmly into the distance with a composed expression. The scholar wondered if he was mistaken: this blue-shirted man, seemingly dropped from the sky, didn't seem happy at all. In fact, he looked rather sad. What was he sad about? Was it because of Peace Mountain behind him? But Peace Mountain had been empty for years—how many years? Was it because he had come too late? But that didn't make sense either. Even if he wasn't a native of Tongye Continent, even if his hometown was the farthest Streamer Continent, he should have heard the news and arrived long ago.
Chen Ping'an asked, "What does the academy say?"
The young scholar said, "Our new mountain head forbids anyone from occupying Peace Mountain. But it seems very difficult."
Chen Ping'an nodded. After a moment of silence, he seemed to be making a promise to Peace Mountain, which had been uninhabited for years behind him: "With me here, it won't be difficult. Jiang Shangzhen is... a waste."
The young scholar's scalp tingled. He hurriedly took another drink.
Chen Ping'an looked up and asked with a smile, "Right, Brother Zhou Fei?"
A hearty laugh rang out, and a handsome man revealed himself. There was a touch of frost at his temples, as if the smile on his face had defeated his fatigue, making his good looks and composure even more striking. He let out a cry of "Aiyo wei," repeatedly saying, "Sorry, sorry." It turned out that his foot was stepping on the face of that Jade Abyss female cultivator. The stunned young scholar saw that this renowned former sect leader of the Jade Gui Sect, while saying "sorry," didn't show any intention of lifting his foot. Finally, he made a deep bow to the man beside the scholar. "Offering Elder Zhou Fei pays respects to the Mountain Lord."
Chen Ping'an didn't stand up. He took out two flasks of wine, tossed one to Jiang Shangzhen, and looked up at this man who was somewhat unfamiliar yet very familiar. He said softly, "Thank you for your efforts. It hasn't been easy to meet again."
"Ah, Mountain Lord, the second letter you sent only said not to come to Divine Talisman Peak. Fortunately, I'm clever enough to know you'd come straight here."
Jiang Shangzhen finally deigned to lift his foot, but he used his toes to roll the female cultivator a few zhang away. He caught the wine flask, sat down beside Chen Ping'an, and raised his flask high, his face full of elation, though his voice was not loud. He said with a smile, "Good brother, cheers?"
The two flasks gently clinked. Then they fell silent, each drinking their own wine.
The jianghu wasn't much good. Only the wine was passable.