Chapter 768: Calming the Nerves
A fine drizzle fell, and a celestial ferry sailing from south to north slowly docked at Egret Ferry within the Zhengyang Mountain domain. A handsome man disembarked, wearing a long blue gown and cloth shoes, holding an oil-paper umbrella with a cassia branch handle. Beside him followed a youth in a dark robe, also holding a small umbrella of ordinary green bamboo, but its canopy was crafted from immortal **emerald green** lotus leaves. This was Chief Zhou Cui Dongshan, disguised with a face covering and using concealment arts.
Each carried a sword on their back, both relics from hidden treasuries of the Central Earth Divine Continent and Northern Jambu Continent, never before seen in Bottle Gourd Continent. These two ancient sword immortal relics were named Jiawu Sheng and Heaven's Broom.
Behind them came a group of registered cultivators also traveling to Zhengyang Mountain, chatting cheerfully. One young man was speaking to a graceful woman beside him, saying that his master was a close friend of hundreds of years standing with the sword immortal ancestor of Zhengyang Mountain's Bo Yun Peak. That ancestor from Bo Yun Peak had fought alongside Sword Immortal Li of Northern Jambu Continent on the Old Dragon City battlefield, jointly slaying a great demon with their swords.
Cui Dongshan listened with amusement and said via heart-to-heart communication with a grin, "Chief Zhou, how about we swap umbrellas?"
Jiang Shangzhen glanced at the green shade under the green lotus umbrella canopy and shook his head. "Forget it. Doesn't suit me."
In the group behind, a child of about seven or eight with delicate features held a large umbrella. Using a water art, he gathered and accumulated a large pool of rainwater on the canopy, then suddenly twisted the handle. The raindrops shot outward like arrows, countless flying swords. He was just a cultivation seedling who had only recently begun the path, so the splashing rain had no real power, but the droplets struck the two umbrellas in front—the cassia and green lotus—with a thumping sound.
Several senior disciples just smiled.
These accomplished registered cultivators naturally had no need for umbrellas; their spiritual energy flowed outward, causing wind and rain to retreat.
Middle five realm mountain immortals, when traveling the world, were impervious to water and fire, and filth avoided them. The strange individuals recorded in the unofficial histories and supernatural notes of those frog-at-the-bottom-of-a-well vassal kingdoms mostly described cultivators of this level.
If the two travelers ahead could dissolve the raindrops into nothingness like them, someone would have stepped in to stop the child from playing with the umbrella, and might even have apologized proactively, saying polite words like "the child is naughty, please don't be offended."
But instead, Cui Dongshan casually waved his sleeve backward, sending the child tumbling into the water with a slap. He turned around with a grin and said, "Little brat likes playing with water, so go play in the water."
It happened so suddenly. Although the child had ascended the mountain at a young age, he had no power to resist. Before everyone's eyes, he traced an arc over a large clump of snow-white reeds and splashed into the water at the ferry.
Jiang Shangzhen turned and smiled. "You scared me half to death. No need to apologize, just compensate with money and be done."
Cui Dongshan chuckled.
Jiang Shangzhen immediately changed his tune. "Part with money to ward off disaster. Part with money to ward off disaster."
A burly man grabbed the hilt of his dharma saber and said in a deep voice, "The child was just playing. Was that necessary?"
If not for the umbrella-holder's accent, which carried a hint of Northern Jambu Continent, he would have drawn his saber and slashed.
Besides, they were in the right here.
Even if they made a fuss at Zhengyang Mountain, or even at the nearby Great Li vassal court, they wouldn't be afraid. The other party would be the one to suffer.
Although martial artists and immortals were no longer prohibited from fighting on Bottle Gourd Continent in the mortal world, after twenty years, habits had become second nature, and it was still hard to change quickly.
Cui Dongshan, one hand holding the umbrella and the other on his hip, said matter-of-factly, "I'm not old either, I'm still a child too."
Jiang Shangzhen gave a thumbs up, pointing to the sword at his back, and sneered, "Back in my hometown, if anyone dared to challenge me like that, that little brat would already be lying dead."
An old cultivator with a steady temperament immediately communicated to the group via heart-to-heart: "Judging by the accent, they are indeed cultivators from Northern Jambu Continent. Whether they are sword cultivators remains uncertain."
Nowadays, Northern Jambu Continent was a brother continent to Bottle Gourd Continent, while Parasol Leaf Continent could only be considered a grandson continent.
In the water at the ferry, strange phenomena appeared. Firelight shot out like lightning, emerging like a fiery dragon leaving the water.
It was a top-grade spiritual artifact flowing with treasure light—a small awl made of bronze, over a foot long, engraved with nine dragons.
It was the child's natal object. Before he even climbed ashore, he had already sent the awl flying straight at the youth in the ink-colored robe holding the green lotus umbrella.
Everyone saw the youth laugh loudly, "Well come!" He suddenly closed the green lotus umbrella, gripped the handle with both hands like holding a saber to strike, but used a saber technique to chop down. However, the small awl collided with him, and the youth's qi and blood surged, his soul unstable. He immediately flushed red and roared, sinking his qi into his dantian. His feet sank an inch into the rain-soaked soft mud, but the tip of the bronze awl still pressed against the umbrella body, sliding him backward more than a zhang before he stopped.
The child stood on the shore, forming hand seals and silently reciting the daoist mantra. He stomped his foot and shouted "Absorb water!" His fingers seemed connected to the small awl by a golden thread. The exquisitely carved nine dragons on the awl seemed to come to life, writhing and moving. But the child was too young, his refinement imprecise, his movements not fast enough. Just as he opened his mouth to absorb rainwater, the ink-robed youth bent sideways, and the blue-robed man grabbed his shoulder. With a few light touches like dragonflies skimming water, they fled far away. Neither dared take the main road at the ferry. They chose the reeds by the water, stepping on them, their figures rising and falling, a beautiful sight.
The child refused to let those two bastards go. He moved his finger, fixing his gaze on their backs, and silently recited, "Wind and lightning speed, black dragons winding, great waterfall ten thousand zhang!"
Nine small black dragons, each finger-length, coiled around the bronze awl, spitting out nine sharp arrows of condensed rainwater. The two men dodged and weaved among the reeds, looking very **disheveled**.
The old cultivator laughed and said, "Chuntang, that's enough. Put away the awl. Don't use high arts lightly. Where it's possible, let people off."
The child, named Chuntang, put away his hand seals and took a deep breath. His face was slightly pale. The faint thread also disappeared. The awl flickered and stopped beside him. He took an unremarkable cotton pouch from his sleeve and put the awl, inscribed with "Qililong," into it. Inside the pouch were a three-hundred-year white-flower snake and a two-hundred-year black-tip snake, each using its own essence blood to help the master warm the awl.
Chuntang hung the pouch on his waist, his face dark, and rubbed his cheek—it stung fiercely.
The old cultivator extended two fingers, twisted his wrist, and lightly wiped. He controlled the large umbrella that had fallen in the mud, making it float toward the child.
The child took it, and in a fit of anger, threw the umbrella far into the water. Out of sight, out of mind. It was just an ordinary thing, not worth a few coins.
The old cultivator pretended not to see Chuntang's childish behavior. This old Golden Core, honored as the Nation-Protecting True Person in his home vassal kingdom, looked into the distance where the two men had gone. He felt something was strange.
The man with the dharma saber sneered, "Two low-level pure martial artists daring to impersonate Northern Jambu Continent sword cultivators? What kind of brains do they have?"
The old cultivator explained, "They are most likely from Northern Jambu Continent; otherwise, they wouldn't be so overbearing. Better to avoid trouble. Remember to restrain Chuntang. Don't let him seek private revenge on Zhengyang Mountain turf. The upcoming peak inauguration celebration is a great joyous occasion; no one wants such unlucky matters. You are Chuntang's guardian. If you can't control him, I'll have to use the founder hall's rules to control you."
The burly man said helplessly, "Founder, I understand the stakes."
In the distant reed marsh, the two men crouched by the water like they were squatting in a latrine.
Jiang Shangzhen, umbrella on his shoulder, asked with a smile, "What's this about?"
Cui Dongshan held the green lotus umbrella horizontally, lowered his head, breathed on it, and wiped off some marks with his sleeve, looking pained. Then he picked up a wisp of spiritual light with two fingers, which he had peeled from the bronze awl. He stared at it and said casually, "Bored. Just messing around."
Jiang Shangzhen said, "Looking at that child's awl and pouch, is it from the Dragon Nurturing Art lineage? Is there a place called Qililong on Bottle Gourd Continent? Never heard of it before."
In ancient times, the path of dragon and flood dragon raising was highly revered. The leader was one of the six ritual officers of the Confucian school. Later, the branches became mixed. After there were no more true dragons in the world, so-called dragon raising was just about mountain swamps, turtles, fish, and snakes. Moreover, this lineage on the Haoran World had suffered calamity in the great dragon catastrophe three thousand years ago. As a result, there were no more sects. Raising dragon descendants or miscellaneous flood dragon types—even turning into a flood dragon was an extravagant hope, let alone a true dragon. The qi fortune of the entire Dragon Nurturing Art's qi practitioners became water without a source, an awkward situation, and the incense gradually withered, like mountain and river gods who lost their incense.
Cui Dongshan crushed the insignificant bit of spiritual light. He tucked the green lotus umbrella under his armpit, cupped his hands around the scattered spiritual light, and gently rubbed them. Then he watched the spread of the light along the veins in his palm, like winding mountain ranges—a sight that even Golden Core and Nascent Soul land immortals couldn't see clearly, but that fell into an immortal's eyes with every detail visible. Jiang Shangzhen glanced over, saw clearly, but didn't understand. Geomancy and divination were among Jiang Shangzhen's few "non-entry" arts, because he had never been willing to learn these methods of seeking good fortune and avoiding disaster.
Cui Donghan clapped his hands, shattering all traces of the veins in his palm, and smiled. "Near Qililong, there is an old flood dragon in a great river that opened a water mansion. It was once granted the title of White Dragon King by the court. After that remote small country was destroyed, the old flood dragon almost never showed its face. But its seniority is much lower than that of the one in Huangting Kingdom that lived ten thousand years. That old flood dragon used over a thousand literati from various dynasties, using their poetry and literary fortune to help bring it some incense. The Qililong immortal mansion has a karmic opportunity with it, considered a incense emissary secretly fostered by the old flood dragon. That 'Calming Wind and Waves' awl is one of the tokens. But actually, this river has excellent hydrology, governing over ten tributaries and more than thirty rivers and streams. In earlier years, when the great canal's estuary was being excavated, if it weren't for consideration of your old Jiang family, this river should have been chosen as the canal's entrance to the sea. Then this Dragon King would have smoothly obtained a great canal marquis title."
Jiang Shangzhen smiled. "I can't claim kinship with Cloud Forest Jiang."
Cui Dongshan stood up, shouldering the green lotus umbrella, his face solemn.
Jiang Shangzhen also stood. The rain had just cleared, the atmosphere fresh. He put away his cassia umbrella, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. For that true dragon's sake, he sensed a whiff of danger.
The two walked slowly. Jiang Shangzhen asked, "I'm curious. Why do you and Chen Ping'an seem to... tolerate Wang Zhu?"
Cui Dongshan nodded. "Because my master feels that someone has placed hope in Wang Zhu, so he is willing to follow that hope to some extent. So far, Wang Zhu has indeed not disappointed. So I learn from my master and give her a few more looks. In truth, after leaving Pear Blossom Cave Heaven, Wang Zhu has had things too smooth—truly smooth sailing. To be precise, after she left that iron lock well, she hasn't suffered much. Compared to my master's arduous travels, she practically lies back and enjoys blessings. Zhigui, Zhigui—the name wasn't given for nothing. 'Boring through the wall to steal light'—acting like a little thief, stealing my master's fortune and blessings, stealing Song Jixin's dragon qi, eventually seizing the general trend of the world, taking advantage to walk the canal and transform into a dragon. I'm afraid she might think everything is her due. For example, she might resent that the Literary Academy chose that fat woman from Lushui Pit to occupy the land water transport, considering it as taking half her fortune. If she bears a grudge, after reaching the Flying Ascension realm, she might mistakenly think that heaven and earth can't control her anymore, and start stirring up trouble."
Jiang Shangzhen asked a crucial question: "That Dragon-Slayer—after three thousand years, can he still slay a dragon?"
Before Cui Dongshan could answer, Jiang Shangzhen answered himself: "Compared to slaying all true dragons alone three thousand years ago, it seems more believable that he would slay one more true dragon three thousand years later."
Cui Dongshan said, "That day at the great canal temple, when Wang Zhu appeared voluntarily, she saved at least half her life."
Jiang Shangzhen hummed in agreement. "She is willing to remember the past. And the mountain master, who himself values old ties, is even more willing to remember the past."
Cui Dongshan lightly tapped his shoulder with the small umbrella and laughed. "Jia Sheng, Bai Mang, Chen Zhuoliu. Our Master Jingqing is really lucky. He's sworn so many brothers and still hasn't been killed. Who would believe such luck?"
Here at Egret Ferry, it was still a hundred miles of mountains and waters from the nearest Green Mist Peak of Zhengyang Mountain.
The two went to a celestial inn for lodgings, situated on a high mountain. They sat on a viewing platform with a wide view, each drinking wine, gazing at the distant peaks.
With the ancestral mountain Line Peak as the center, an area of eight hundred li in radius was the sect territory of Zhengyang Mountain—its private mountains and rivers.
All the peaks surrounded the ancestral mountain. Due to the mountain-protecting grand formation, sword qi shot into the sky everywhere. Often one could see sword cultivators flying together between peaks on their swords, their momentum like a rainbow, sword light trailing, cutting through the sky.
Because they had Yuan Zhenye, a moving-mountain guardian elder, in the past twenty years, Zhengyang Mountain had successively relocated three broken old mountain ranges from Great Li's southern vassal states as peaks for future sword immortals to open as new peaks.
For the vassal small country courts, it was better to select a complete mountain and seal a mountain lord, getting a sum of immortal money from Zhengyang Mountain and forming a karmic bond with that sect of many sword cultivators, rather than spending great effort to repair mountain roots and water transport, rebuild mountain lord temples. And these mountains, which on the surface were "broken and worthless like chicken ribs," actually had profound foundations from accumulating wind and water for thousands of years.
As for Zhengyang Mountain repaying those karmic bonds—it simply meant that when its sword cultivators later descended the mountain to train, they would go to those three small countries to slay demons and deal with evil beings that the local governments couldn't handle—a trifle for Zhengyang Mountain sword cultivators. Actually, no one truly lost; each side gained greatly.
Cui Dongshan laughed. "Having seen the big world, Zhengyang Mountain's sword immortals act more seasoned and slick."
Jiang Shangzhen agreed. "The sect's atmosphere cannot be underestimated."
Before the war that swept the world, Zhengyang Mountain's cultivators—even if not direct sword cultivators—were notoriously arrogant when they went out to train, running rampant across the continent.
The continent's leading sect was Shengao Sect; Snow Wind Temple and True Martial Mountain were two military ancestral courts of the continent; Wind Thunder Garden with Li Tuanshen (before his dissolution); the Great Li Iron Cavalry rising in the north; Cloud Forest Jiang; Old Dragon City Fu family; Zhu Ying Dynasty sword cultivators. Beyond these, Zhengyang Mountain could look down on everyone else.
Otherwise, there wouldn't have been the nickname "Little Parasol Leaf of Bottle Gourd Continent."
That Clear Wind City with its fox kingdom? It was just an unregistered vassal force of Zhengyang Mountain.
Among the native sects of Bottle Gourd, Parasol Leaf, and Northern Jambu Continents, aside from the Jade Gui Sect, none had yet established a subordinate sect.
Although Ruan Qiong's Dragon Spring Sword Sect had always been regarded by mountain cultivators as a subordinate sect of Snow Wind Temple, in fact, it wasn't. Moreover, Ruan Qiong had the title of Great Li's chief elder, and among his direct disciples, there was the prodigy Xie Ling. So Zhengyang Mountain was willing to think highly of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect.
Jiang Shangzhen laughed. "This Yuan Bai—his life is rather pitiable. He went on a long journey, and his world fell apart. In recent years, he's not as carefree as our Shao Poxian from Grey Mountain! Quite good talent. Wei Ying had his eye on him. Before going to Divine Seal Peak, Wei Ying originally wanted to ask Zhengyang Mountain for this person, planning to nurture him well. But he's too much of a good person, and his natal flying sword was damaged. Even if he went to Letterbook Lake, he'd probably be exploited by Liu Laocheng and Liu Zhimao."
Cui Dongshan said, "Good thing that didn't happen, or else the Jade Gui Sect would be up to its crotch in yellow mud."
Yuan Bai was one of the "twin jades" of the old Zhu Ying Dynasty's sword path. He made a deal with Zhengyang Mountain, switching from guest elder to direct disciple. Later, he had a sword match with Wind Thunder Garden's master Huang He, and Yuan Bai was badly injured, but he successfully delayed Huang He's breakthrough to the upper five realms.
Yuan Bai was now recuperating on Dui Xue Peak (Snow-Facing Peak). His future achievements in the sword path wouldn't be high.
Additionally, on Zhengyang Mountain, there was a young sword cultivator who had almost become a direct disciple of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect's founder hall. After switching to Zhengyang Mountain, his cultivation progress was unstoppable.
This time, he was in closed-door meditation to form his golden core. Once he emerged, there would be an inauguration ceremony, and he would be promoted to peak master.
Cui Dongshan's eyes turned slightly cold. "Yuan Bai has a maid named Liucai, from Celestial Well Blessed Land on Aiai Continent."
Liucai, Liu Cai.
Jiang Shangzhen immediately showed interest. "That Miss Liucai?"
Cui Dongshan rolled his eyes. "For you, the kind you look at and can't remember."
Jiang Shangzhen crossed his legs and asked, "That Wu Tijing—is he really, as the mountain master said, Li Tuanshen's dissolution reincarnation? Did Tian Wan find him and bring him up the mountain to cultivate, just to spite Huang He and Liu Baqiao later?"
Cui Dongshan nodded. "Something like that."
A young sword cultivator had emerged out of nowhere: Wu Tijing. His natal flying sword was called Mandarin Ducks. It was rumored that besides that, he possessed another flying sword that he kept secret.
As for why it was kept secret but could still be rumored—this kind of mountain matter was understood without explanation. It was the same principle as certain secret records in mortal histories.
Jiang Shangzhen shifted his gaze. "Still, Dui Xue Peak looks more adorable."
Dui Xue Peak was so named because of twin peaks standing side by side. The opposite peak had year-round snow. But that peak was nameless. It was said that the founding founder of Dui Xue Peak, a later Nascent Soul sword cultivator, had once cultivated on the opposite peak with his Dao companion. The companion failed to reach Golden Core and died early. Then this eccentric sword immortal sealed off the peak. For the next several hundred years, she stayed on Dui Xue Peak, claiming to be in closed-door cultivation but actually tired of sect affairs. She effectively gave up the seat of Zhengyang Mountain's sect leader.
But the truth in Zhengyang Mountain's founder hall secret records was not so poignant.
Cui Dongshan told the mountain-water story that couldn't escape the word "love" no matter what.
The female founder of Dui Xue Peak's Dao companion, while she was in closed-door cultivation, had a change of heart. After she emerged, she found out, killed him, and lit a soul lamp, placing it on the peak opposite Dui Xue, frozen by heavy snow for decades. But from then on, she developed a heart demon. Eventually, during her final closed-door attempt to break through the Nascent Soul bottleneck, she went mad and was killed by the combined efforts of Zhengyang Mountain's founder hall sword cultivators. Her sword path fortune, naturally, didn't flow to others; it was confined within Zhengyang Mountain's territory.
Cui Dongshan knew too many old stories of Bottle Gourd Continent. In the days when he and the old bastard were still Cui Chan, occasionally in the dead of night, he would take out a jug of wine and a plate of peanuts, habitually read by lamplight, pull out a random mountain secret archive, immortal traces and origins, court secrets, martial world grudges—he would flip through them.
"I knew I shouldn't have listened to these mood-spoiling inside stories."
Jiang Shangzhen sighed deeply, cupping the back of his head with both hands, shaking his head. "Going up the mountain to cultivate is just like diluting wine with water, turning a jug of wine into a big vat of watery wine. The longer you live, the more water you add, the longer you drink, the more insipid the taste. You, him, her, you all, them—only 'I' is different. Without a person radical, leaning beside."
Cui Dongshan suddenly laughed. "We came just in time. Line Peak's founder hall is in session."
Jiang Shangzhen glanced at the streaks of sword light rising among the many peaks. "Well-deserved reputation. Many sword immortals."
Cui Dongshan, hands in sleeves, said, "I once saw an empty time shop in a cave heaven ruin. The shopkeeper and clerks were gone, but it was still doing the strongest 'forced sale' business in the world."
Jiang Shangzhen praised, "I truly envy Brother Cui's broad knowledge."
Jiang Shangzhen suddenly turned his head. "Brother Cui, in this life, have you never met a woman who made your heart move even a little?"
Cui Dongshan shook his head. "Truly not."
Jiang Shangzhen rubbed his chin. "The lineage of Literary Sage—just talking about marriage destiny and feng shui—it's a bit odd, isn't it?"
Cui Dongshan smiled. "That's why the old scholar burned high incense to be able to accept my master as his final disciple."
Jiang Shangzhen remembered something and couldn't help chuckling. "That Zhengyang Mountain fellow in charge of mountain-water intelligence—truly a genius."
Cui Dongshan nodded. "A prodigy."
---
Zhengyang Mountain's founder hall was in session. The sect leader was Zhu Huang.
The Jade Realm old ancestor was Xia Yuancui. The Tao family ancestor was Tao Yanbo. The sect's disciplinary law ancestor was Yan Chu. The guardian elder was Yuan Zhenye.
Plus several other peak master sword immortals, their seats were quite forward.
Further back were people like Tian Wan, in charge of mountain-water gazettes and mirror flowers, water moon. She had made a few not-insignificant contributions, and her fixed seat in the founder hall had finally moved forward a bit.
As for Yuan Bai, his seat was at the very bottom now. He enjoyed the leisure, closing his eyes and resting during every session, saying not a word.
Zhu Huang smiled and said, "Regarding the upcoming peak inauguration ceremony, we'll follow the usual procedures."
This was probably the sect's demeanor—a Golden Core opening a peak had become a routine matter that the founder hall didn't need to discuss much.
Zhu Huang's expression turned solemn. "However, the matter of establishing a subordinate sect is already urgent. What exactly is the plan? We can't just keep delaying, can we?"
The matter of Zhengyang Mountain's subordinate sect was that everything was ready except the east wind. The site had already been selected. The required military merits, after communicating with various mountain peaks, piecing together bits and pieces, they had finally filled that big hole. But they ran into a snag with the Great Li court—the court suddenly reneged and was unwilling to recommend them to the Central Earth Literary Academy. According to information from the Xu family of Clear Wind City's in-laws, the Pillar State Yuan family, the emperor was willing, but outside the capital, someone refused to nod.
Obviously, the only one who dared to differ with the emperor, and even not sell face to Zhengyang Mountain, was that vassal residence in the Great Li secondary capital.
But the problem was that the vassal king Song Mu had always had a good relationship with Zhengyang Mountain.
So Old Ancestor Tao's face wasn't too good today.
On Bottle Gourd Continent, there was no shortage of gossip about Zhengyang Mountain becoming a sect.
Because Zhengyang Mountain's actual cultivator casualties were really too few. The accumulation of military merits, besides fighting, relied more on immortal money and supplies. Moreover, the choice of every battlefield was meticulously calculated by the founder hall. It didn't show at first, but when the war ended and people reviewed things, no one was a fool. Registered cultivators from Shengao Sect, Snow Wind Temple, True Martial Mountain, and other old sects often gave Zhengyang Mountain cultivators dirty looks in public places. Especially that old founder surnamed Qin of Snow Wind Temple's Big Salamander Ditch. He had no enmity with Zhengyang Mountain, but he seemed to have lost his mind, saying that with the magnificent military merits of Zhengyang Mountain's sword immortals, forget a subordinate sect, they should have subordinate subordinate subordinate sects. They might as well do it all at once and open subordinate sects across all nine continents of Haoran—who wouldn't give a thumbs up? Who wouldn't be utterly convinced?
It was fortunate that the Literary Academy had banned mountain-water gazettes now; otherwise, who knew how many such strange words would spread.
The reason Zhengyang Mountain was so anxious to establish a subordinate sect was indeed worry about continental opinion.
But once the subordinate sect was established and the rice was cooked, many mountain cultivators would reassess the situation. At worst, they would close their doors and say a few sarcastic words in private. They would never dare to say half a word against Zhengyang Mountain in mountain-water gazettes or in public. They might even add embroidery, argue on its behalf, and say a few good words.
The oldest and highest-realm old sword immortal, Xia Yuancui, looked leisurely and smiled. "How about we bypass the Great Li Song family and discuss with Cloud Forest Jiang?"
Having entered the upper five realms, and with Zhengyang Mountain already having a Haoran sect title, whether they had a subordinate sect or not wasn't that urgent for Xia Yuancui. His cultivation years were long, and in his spare time, he could think about the carefree life of the immortal realm—that was a beautiful thing.
Sect leader Zhu Huang nodded. "That's possible. But who is suitable to go to the Jiang family?"
The Great Li Song family, having lost half its territory, would see its dynasty borders continue to shrink. Many central and southern vassals were already restless. If not for the secondary capital and the great canal temple, many central and northern vassal kingdoms would also be stirring. But every registered cultivator on Bottle Gourd Continent knew that among the Haoran Ten Great Dynasties, Great Li's ranking would only get lower, eventually settling at seventh or eighth.
Xia Yuancui smiled without speaking. The old sword immortal had a sword lying across his lap. He lightly stroked the scabbard, looking like he didn't care.
Cloud Forest Jiang was impressive, but not enough to make him lower his head and beg for favors.
Now, the only one on Bottle Gourd Continent who could speak effectively at the Literary Academy was not the Great Li Song family, which had overstepped many bounds, but Cloud Forest Jiang.
Because Cloud Forest Jiang was one of the most orthodox "houses of bells and cauldrons, families of poetry and etiquette" of the sage families in all of Haoran.
The Literary Academy also had several ancient genealogies. Cloud Forest Jiang, which had migrated to Bottle Gourd Continent, was an undisputed descendant of sages.
Ten thousand years ago, the Ritual Sage personally established etiquette. The Jiang family's ancestors had produced several Grand Recorders. In the "Great Rite Spring Official," they were listed alongside Grand Historian and Grand Steward as one of the six officers, in charge of the most ancient prayers and invocations. Moreover, the surname Jiang itself was one of the oldest surnames in Haoran.
An old sword immortal from Bo Yun Peak said in a deep voice, "Since the secondary capital vassal residence wants us to accumulate military merits in the Barren Wilderness World, then let's go. I'll lead!"
Disciplinary Law Ancestor Yan Chu sneered. "You, with your Golden Core bottleneck, do you really think that by catching some of Sword Immortal Li's immortal aura on the Old Dragon City battlefield, you're also in the upper five realms?"
The old sword cultivator had long been accustomed to the atmosphere of the founder hall sessions. He continued as if he hadn't heard, "If you don't want to take risks, I'll lead my Bo Yun Peak lineage over the Sword Qi Great Wall, to those ferries and kill demons."
Yan Chu slapped the armrest and shouted angrily, "Do you think Bo Yun Peak is yours alone? If you're so capable, why not take the whole peak with you and smash it into the Barren Wilderness World? If you could smash it onto Tuoyue Mountain, I'd personally see you off. How about that?"
The old Golden Core from Bo Yun Peak got so angry he stood up, ready to leave the founder hall again.
At the same time, several old sword cultivators who had been on the Old Dragon City battlefield had a similar attitude: if Bo Yun Peak left the founder hall, they would leave too.
Line Peak's founder hall sessions were often like this—nothing unusual.
Zhu Huang frowned slightly. This time, he didn't let that Golden Core sword immortal leave. He said softly, "Founder hall sessions cannot be left arbitrarily."
The old Golden Core sat down again, took a deep breath, and resolved to play deaf and dumb.
Guardian Elder Yuan Zhenye crossed his arms and couldn't help yawning. Still so boring.
Zhu Huang shifted his gaze, leaned forward slightly, and smiled at Yuan Zhenye. "Elder Yuan, do you have any good strategy?"
Even though he was a Nascent Soul bottleneck sword cultivator and a sect leader, Zhu Huang was still quite respectful to this guardian elder.
The white-clothed old ape twitched the corner of his mouth, lazily leaning back in his chair. "Self-strengthening is the key. Once the sect leader enters the upper five realms, all troubles will be solved. Then I'll congratulate the sect leader and make a trip to the great canal's estuary."
Zhu Huang laughed heartily and clasped his hands. "Then I'll trouble Elder Yuan."
In the founder hall, even Xia Yuancui perked up. All eyes turned to the sect leader, who had been struggling with his bottleneck and often lamented he had no hope for the upper five realms.
Especially Tao, the financial officer, and Yan Chu, the disciplinary law officer—they exchanged an imperceptible glance.
Only Yuan Bai, who served as the door god, turned to look outside the door.
Zhu Huang didn't want to talk more about his own seclusion and breakthrough. He changed the subject, nodded to his trusted Tian Wan. The woman immediately took out a booklet and stood up. "The sect is thriving. On this list, there are a total of sixteen sword immortal seedlings. Nine of them are young and haven't taken masters yet. All peak masters and founders, you may choose today."
These so-called sword immortal seedlings were, of course, young sword cultivators with the potential to become Golden Core guests.
They mainly came from the old Zhu Ying Dynasty—once discovered, immediately sent to Zhengyang Mountain. In addition, from the shattered southern regions of Bottle Gourd Continent, Zhengyang Mountain had specially sent almost every sword immortal down the mountain in recent years to find sword cultivator seedlings for the sect. If not that, then at least fine jade suitable for mountain cultivation couldn't be missed. As for Parasol Leaf Continent, there were also unexpected finds: two young sword cultivator seedlings.
As long as one could become a sword cultivator, it was a great fortune. Because as long as they were sword cultivators, staying in the sect to cultivate could add a share of sword path fortune to Zhengyang Mountain.
So now, Sect Leader Zhu Huang surely no longer had sentiments like "If only Wei Jin would come to Zhengyang Mountain, I'd willingly yield my seat."
First, his own bottleneck had loosened; he had grasped a sliver of Great Dao opportunity and had hope of breaking through. Second, now Zhengyang Mountain, as a newly promoted sect on Bottle Gourd Continent, had the right time, place, and people. Perhaps within a hundred years, it could contend with Shengao Sect for the position of continental overlord.
How could one not be elated? In recent years, Zhu Huang seemed to have become more than a hundred years younger.
Zhu Huang suddenly asked, "In Great Li's Dragon Prefecture, especially at that Ox Horn Mountain Ferry, there seem to be some unusual movements?"
The Xu family of Clear Wind City had bought a dragon kiln from the Ma family of Apricot Flower Lane. Also, in Locust Yellow County, Fortune Street and Peach Leaf Lane—Zhengyang Mountain had some secret karmic connections.
But for so many years, they hadn't obtained any useful mountain-water intelligence. The Northern Mountain Lord Wei Po's Piyun Mountain, plus the Supervisorate that could submit memorials directly, and Ruan Qiong's Dragon Spring Sword Sect—these were taboos in the mountain-water officialdom. Zhengyang Mountain dared not stretch its hands too far. However, there had been an unexpected gain: the Rushdan River Water God, Lady Ye Qingzhu, over more than a decade, had sent Zhengyang Mountain a few secret reports. These had let Zhengyang Mountain know about the Fallen Mountain, that there were several pure martial artists of not-low realms. It also helped clarify the karmic relationship between Fallen Mountain and Piyun Mountain, such as how the Ox Horn Mountain Ferry's accounts were divided, and the iron forge by Dragon Beard River, where Liu Xianyang's deeply hidden identity as a Golden Core sword cultivator was revealed.
Today's session took a full two hours. Just the struggle among the peaks over those sword immortal seedlings almost led to sword challenges.
Having finally smoothed over the various peaks, even Sect Leader Zhu Huang felt somewhat tired. When the session ended and the sword lights returned to the peaks, Zhu Huang kept the white-clothed old ape behind. They walked out of the founder hall together, overlooking the sect's mountains and rivers.
Zhu Huang smiled. "Elder Yuan, congratulations to both of us."
Because the guardian elder beside him, like himself, would soon break into the upper five realms.
Yuan Zhenye's expression remained unchanged. He nodded, hands behind his back, squinting into the distance. The stalwart white-clothed old ape had an air of looking down through the ages.
Zhu Huang teased, "A direct disciple of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect, still a Golden Core sword cultivator—Elder Yuan should still be careful."
The white-clothed old ape snorted. "Liu Xianyang, plus Chen Ping'an—those two little weaklings. Careful? Careful about what? Careful not to kill them with one punch each?"
Zhu Huang nodded. "After all, the identities of these two young men are rather troublesome. One is Ruan Qiong's direct disciple, the other is half of Wei Po's money bag. Fortunately, Zhengyang Mountain is ultimately not in the Northern Mountain region, and Ruan Qiong is only a Jade Realm military cultivator."
The white-clothed old ape sneered. "Just my luck—they're waiting until I break into the upper five realms to come? Do they really think that after enduring for over twenty years in humiliation, they can take revenge? If those two wastes dare to come seeking death, I'll send them on their way."
At the celestial inn at Egret Ferry, Cui Dongshan and Jiang Shangzhen listened intently. After all, a sect's mountain-protecting formation was no decoration; the two could only use minor tricks.
Hearing the moving-mountain old ancestor's grand words, they looked at each other. Jiang Shangzhen was silent for a long time, his face full of lingering fear. He said softly, "My liver and gallbladder are splitting from fear."
Cui Dongshan quickly handed him a jug of wine. "Calm your nerves."
---
Mao Xiaodong, with Li Baoping and Li Huai, plus a large group of Confucian scholars from the Rites Record Academy, had traveled south and finally arrived at this Sword Qi Great Wall.
The Sword Qi Great Wall no longer had sword cultivators.
Not only the Sword Qi Great Wall, but also the Inverted Mountain, Dragon Abyss, and Rain Dragon Sect had become things of the past.
On the two sections of the wall, split in two, facing the vast territory of the Barren Wilderness World, many large characters were carved.
Pity that Dong San'geng's sword strike that killed the Lotus Nunnery Master, and A Liang and Yao Chongdao's joint sword strike...
Neither had managed to carve on the wall. The battle was too fierce; there was no time.
But on the other section of wall, the half of the Sword Qi Great Wall, many large characters were also carved—these were the handiwork of the Jiazi Account to show off. But for some reason, the Central Earth Literary Academy had not yet erased those carvings.
Now, a steady stream of Haoran World cultivators visited the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Moreover, Haoran World had set up three large-scale celestial ferries between the Barren Wilderness World and the Sword Qi Great Wall. Though called ferries, their scale was no less than the capitals of great dynasties. Grand construction had taken place, led by the Literary Academy, with the Central Earth Divine Continent, Liuxia Continent, and Aiai Continent each contributing money, effort, and people.
They were like three nails driven into the map of the Barren Wilderness World.
Above one of the ferries, nearly two hundred sword boats, each as large as a mountain, hovered permanently, blotting out the sun. These were Mohist heavy weapons that hadn't seen action in the war. After the war ended, they were slowly relocated to the Barren Wilderness World.
Another ferry had only one city-builder, who also served as the city-guardian.
The Mohist Grand Master.
These three ferry-cities were somewhat like the Linen Sect's Green Reed Town set up in the Ghost Valley.
In addition, one of the abysses on the sea between Golden Armor Continent and Blessed Parasol Continent had also fallen under the control of the Literary Academy.
At the gate to the Barren Wilderness World, the Dragon Tiger Mountain Grand Heavenly Master, Qi Tingji, Pei Bei, Fiery Dragon True Person, Huai Yin, and other Haoran powerhouses took turns on duty for two or three years.
A figure in red clothes and a young man in a Confucian robe flew away from the city wall, standing on the southern battlefield ruins, gazing northward at the large characters on the city wall.
"Daoist Law," "Haoran," "Western Heaven."
"Thunder Pond Severely Guarded, Sword Qi Endures."
"Chen," "Dong," "Qi," "Meng" (Ferocious).
Li Huai looked up at one of those large characters and sighed, "That damned A Liang, all he does is talk nonsense all day. Back then, he swore brotherhood with me and boasted a basketful of tales. He made me think none of his words were true. Turns out he's actually a bit fierce."
Li Huai smacked his lips. "And this handwriting—like earthworms crawling. There's nothing like it in the world. Even if A Liang stood in front of me and swore it wasn't his writing, I wouldn't believe it."
Li Baoping was a bit sad. "The two sections of the Sword Qi Great Wall no longer have formation support. If there's another great war, they can never be restored."
Li Huai comforted her, "There won't be another war."
Even without war's ravages, year after year of wind and rain, sun exposure, the wall would slowly erode. One day, all the carvings on the city wall would blur beyond recognition.
A travel-worn old man in yellow robes, with a falcon's eyes and an eagle's gaze, gaunt and bony, flew south from the city wall in a rainbow. Suddenly, he made a turn and landed softly, stopping about ten zhang away from the two. He also seemed to have come to admire the carvings on the city wall.
Now, the city wall and the sky dome were guarded by Literary Academy sages and two peak cultivators, and the inspection of passes was extremely strict. Moreover, all the demons of the Barren Wilderness World were blocked south of the Ten Thousand Mountains and the three ferries. So it was even safer and more carefree for Haoran World cultivators to tour the Sword Qi Great Wall than when the sword cultivators were still in residence.
Li Baoping and Li Huai were about to leave.
The old man looked calm, but was inwardly anxious. He no longer cared about any lofty bearing, and took the initiative to ask, "Young miss, is your surname Li? Did you debate with Yuan Pang of the Yasheng lineage at the Rites Record Academy about the substance, learning, and lineage of the Dao?"
Li Baoping turned sideways and nodded to the old man. "It was me."
According to rumors, Li Baoping lost that debate to Yuan Pang.
Li Huai was present at the time. He hadn't understood anything. But he noticed that Yuan Pang, who had compiled three "Commentaries" at a young age, spoke elegantly and calmly, looking quite punchable. In contrast, Li Baoping often frowned, thought deeply, and seemed to contradict herself several times, wanting to speak but stopping.
And Yuan Pang was one of the ten young talents across several worlds.
Rumor had it that his hometown was the Green Underworld, but he became a direct disciple of Yasheng.
The old man said regretfully, "This Yuan Pang comes from an orthodox Confucian lineage. Moreover, as a direct disciple of Yasheng, he dares to say that the Dao Ancestor and the Ultimate Sage 'are mutually beginning and end'—wild nonsense, utterly improper."
Li Baoping smiled. "Senior, if you have something to say, say it directly. If you have business, state it. There's no need to be overly polite with me."
Her implication was that someone who said such things about the "three paths" debate clearly didn't understand it at all.
Since he didn't understand, he wasn't here to debate knowledge. So his attempt to get close must have another purpose.
The old man's expression turned awkward. He indeed had no interest in these bookish quarrels that scholars engaged in out of boredom, nor did he understand them. This trip to the Haoran World had been filled with caution and fear, nearly breaking his legs with the running. He glanced south toward the Ten Thousand Mountains—not too far from his own nest. If he returned empty-handed, he'd probably have two of his four legs broken by that old blind man.
But though he was burning with anxiety, he still maintained a calm demeanor and announced his name. "My Daoist name is Dragon Mountain Lord. I'm a wild cultivator from Southern Brahmaloka Continent. I've read some sage books and sincerely admire the learning of the Literary Sage lineage..."
Li Baoping immediately asked, "May I ask, sir, what is 'transforming nature and arousing artifice'? What is 'clarifying divisions and forming groups'?"
The yellow-robed old man, self-styled Dragon Mountain Lord, was again at a loss. He found this girl troublesome. So he had to "be open and honest": "To tell you the truth, I only have a smattering of knowledge about the sage theories of the various literary lineages. But as for the Literary Sage lineage—from the Literary Sage himself who combined with three continents, to the various direct disciples who turned the tide when all seemed lost—I truly admire them from the bottom of my heart, without a shred of falsehood."
The Literary Sage lineage: Zuo You, Chen Ping'an, Cui Chan.
Zuo You had drawn his sword here. Chen Ping'an had served as the Hidden Official.
Mountains and rivers had turned upside down. Cui Chan had traveled here from across continents, dispersed his cultivation of the fourteenth realm, merged with two worlds, and became a second "Sword Qi Great Wall," completely cutting off the Barren Wilderness World's retreat. This forced the Tuoyue Mountain Great Ancestor to divert his attention and power to open three abysses in the sea. Otherwise, for a hundred years, the time scales and measurements of the two worlds could not be repaired. This invisible collapse of rites and music had little effect on ordinary mortals, but would harm all cultivators of both worlds. Heart demons would take advantage of the cracks, sprouting like weeds. A cultivator's heart may be without leaks, but if heaven and earth cracked, how could a small no-leak withstand the huge leaks? And the later the repair, the greater the impact on celestial timing.
Li Huai felt listless.
Annoying—more mountain cultivators opportunistically trying to curry favor with the Literary Sage lineage. At the very least, this Dragon Mountain Lord should have memorized our founder's thirty-two chapters thoroughly before coming to be polite and make small talk. Not a seasoned traveler at all. Not even comparable to Pei Qian, let alone himself.
If not for his fear of the Confucian sage guarding the sky dome, the old man would have slapped the girl in red away and grabbed Lord Li to flee.
The corner of the old man's eye caught a glimpse of the Ten Thousand Mountains to the south. Fortunately, the old blind man hadn't appeared yet. There was still a chance to remedy things. He had to make it work!
The old blind man had a bad temper. When he acted, he never held back. And the key was that old undying blind man—for ten thousand years, he only bullied his own loyal followers.
One of the few fourteenth realm experts across several worlds, and he was just a coward picking on the weak. Why not go ask Chen Qingdu for a few sword strikes? Why not arm-wrestle with the Tuoyue Mountain Great Ancestor? This old thing with no backbone only showed off his realm to his own people, like an old bird waiting for a dead dog to see who outlives who.
Li Baoping moved to stand in front of Li Huai and asked, "Sir, why not get straight to the point and say something frank?"
The old man stroked his beard, pretending to be calm, and braced himself. "Fine, fine, fine. Young lady has good eyesight. I do have some selfish motives. Seeing you two young juniors with extraordinary bone structures—truly rare cultivation geniuses—I plan to accept you as unregistered disciples. Don't worry, Miss Li, you don't need to change your sect. In my life of cultivation, I've suffered greatly from having my eyes too high. I've never taken any direct disciples. I truly cannot bear to let my entire path of dharma come to nothing. So I want to give you a karmic blessing."
Li Baoping shook her head. "I appreciate your kind intentions, but as for taking you as a master and learning arts, I must decline. Even if it's an unregistered disciple, it's still against propriety."
The old man grumbled inwardly: Who cares about you? A young girl with the bearing of a gentleman, and a woman at that.
Back in my glorious days of dominating the Barren Wilderness World, a girl as annoying and oblivious as you—I'd grab a handful and crunch them all.
Li Huai found this old man interesting. Sneaky, big talk, worried about his dharma coming to nothing, so he'd give away a blessing?
Li Huai communicated via heart-to-heart: "Li Baoping, is this guy here to rob us?"
Li Baoping replied, "No. He doesn't have the guts."
So Li Huai grinned and asked, "Old senior, may I ask, what realm are you?"
The old man almost wept tears of joy. Finally, he was talking to Lord Li.
That tiny Bottle Gourd Continent—he didn't dare go there. He had waited overseas for years. Finally, Li Huai went to the Central Earth Divine Continent.
A full ten years. Ten years of time! He had run around the Haoran World, hiding and dodging. A mere Flying Ascension realm, of the same generation as Crimson Concubine and Old Deaf One—he had been a homeless dog for ten years!
The old man calmed his emotions, coughed, and said, "My realm is passable. I have some minor dharma."
Li Huai smiled. "Then it's not very high?"
The old man quickly said, "High! How could it not be high? I was just being modest."
Li Huai pointed a thumb at the big character on the wall. "I'm a sworn brother of A Liang—we cut chicken heads and burned yellow paper. He was the one who cried and begged me to agree."
The old man felt like dying. Was this the disciple the old blind man had accepted to torment him?
His heartstrings tensed. He sensed that suffocating, majestic aura beginning to approach the Sword Qi Great Wall.
He couldn't let ten years of bitter hardship end in a half-beaten conclusion.
The old man fell to his knees with a thud, prostrating himself on the ground. "Li Huai, I beg you. Please agree to cultivate with me. As for taking me as a master—whatever makes you happy."
Even Li Baoping was stunned. What was this Dragon Mountain Lord, appearing out of nowhere, trying to do?
Li Huai was even more startled.
Indeed, all blessings that come for free should be avoided. This old man's mind was unclear. Cultivate with him—cultivate what?
A short, hunched old blind man appeared out of nowhere beside the Dragon Mountain Lord. He lifted his foot and stepped down. With a crunch and a yelp, the yellow-robed old man's entire spine broke, and he collapsed limply on the ground.
The old blind man sneered. "Worthless thing. Can't even handle such a small matter. Have you been eating shit for ten years, wandering around the Haoran World?"
The old blind man turned his head to "look" at Li Huai, his face stern. "Are you Li Huai?"
Li Huai asked back, "Can I not be?"
The old blind man smiled. "What do you think?"
Li Huai looked sincere and nodded. "I think that's possible."
Li Baoping frowned slightly.
On the city wall, a Literary Academy sage, a Flying Ascension realm cultivator, and an immortal realm sword cultivator—none of them moved.
She then relaxed. At least these two old men weren't villains who would suddenly attack.
The old blind man sneered. "You're sworn brothers with that damned A Liang? Then that's excellent."
This way, his seniority would be high.
The old blind man casually pointed south. "Boy, if you become my direct disciple, the Ten Thousand Mountains to the south, the ten-thousand-mile painting, will all be your domain. Golden-armored warriors, imprisoned demon tribes—all at your command."
Li Huai grimaced and lowered his voice. "I was just talking nonsense. Senior, how did you overhear that? And why did you take it seriously? That kind of talk can't be spread. If that fourteenth realm old immortal with heavenly eyes hears it, we'll both be screwed. Why bother?"
Li Baoping pinched the bridge of her nose.
On the way here, Li Huai had indeed boasted like that without batting an eye. The old man's current description of Li Huai's words was roughly accurate.
As for this old man who struck ruthlessly and broke another's spine with a single step, Li Baoping had already guessed his identity: the "old blind man" of the Barren Wilderness World.
Because that Dragon Mountain Lord, who had reached the "taking disciples to the point of kowtowing and begging" realm, had his spine completely shattered, yet he was still lying on the ground "comfortably," with a somewhat playful look in his eyes. He kept secretly eyeing Li Huai. The yellow-robed old man's expression showed a certain "what's done is done" attitude, but there was absolutely no sign of being injured. If it were any other cultivator, no matter how strong their physical body or vast their supernatural powers, they would have appeared listless after such a blow.
The old blind man pointed to his own eyes. His eye sockets were sunken, with no eyeballs.
If any cultivator below Flying Ascension in the upper five realms dared to use divine abilities to look straight at this spot, their soul would likely fall into an endless abyss, stripped of consciousness, leaving them mindless with only a hollow puppet of a body.
Li Huai blinked and asked tentatively, "Could you be that old senior whom A Liang admires most in his life? Every time he talks about you, he first bathes and changes clothes. When he talks about your heroic spirit and deeds, he always sobs uncontrollably."
Li Huai's meaning was: I'm even more of a bullshitter than A Liang. I'm not worthy to be your high disciple.
The old blind man rubbed his chin. A good disciple. He knows how to talk. It won't be boring from now on. His eye for taking disciples was indeed not bad.
In truth, for the ten thousand years of feudal division in the Barren Wilderness World, there were no lack of demon cultivators who hoped to gain the old blind man's "favor" and become the direct disciple of a fourteenth realm grand cultivator, thus rising to heaven in one step.
But those poor fools who tried to curry favor, each with more tricks than the last, had all become the "yellow-robed old man's" meals.
The old blind man's thinking couldn't be simpler.
Disciple, I can accept—as my final disciple. Master, don't seek me out—seek and die.
The old blind man reached out, grabbed Li Huai's shoulder, and lifted him lightly. Heavy bone structure. Interesting.
Li Huai's face turned pale. He stood on tiptoe, clutching the old blind man's withered arm with both hands, and pleaded to Li Baoping, "Li Baoping, help me plead for mercy! Chen Ping'an finally came home, and now I'm being caught to be some kind of disciple? What kind of logic is that?"
Cultivation on the mountain could take years or decades. Li Huai genuinely didn't want that. If anyone wanted realm, they could take it.
Li Baoping said seriously, "Old senior, there's no such principle. Taking disciples and becoming a master on the mountain must be mutually willing, arising from fate and formed by circumstance."
The old blind man laughed. "Little girl, don't think that just because you have an un-brother who isn't a real brother, you can argue with me about this and that. Li Xisheng is still too young, and his realm is far from sufficient. Whether he can fulfill his wishes in the Haoran World is another matter."
Li Baoping smiled. "What you say doesn't count."
Li Huai, however, felt a surge of nameless anger. This old blind man had gone too far.
He grabbed the arm with both hands, leaped up, and kicked the old bastard in the chest.
The yellow-robed old man lying on the ground enjoying himself almost popped his eyes out.
The old blind man didn't move, just reached out and brushed the dust from his chest. Instead of being angry, he laughed. "Good. You have the makings of my final disciple."
Li Huai felt a bit guilty. He used a martial technique he had inexplicably learned—condensing sound into a thread—and said to Li Baoping with a trembling voice, "Baoping, Baoping, I'm a little weak in the knees right now. All my courage is gone. I can't even stand steady. I don't dare kick again. Sorry."
The old blind man chuckled. "You've done your utmost. That's already very considerate. Even Chen Ping'an wouldn't dare do that."
Then Li Huai suddenly regained boldness and kicked again.
The old blind man hummed. "Potential. Very good."
The yellow-robed old man felt like he had been hit by two heavenly tribulations. He started to worry: if Lord Li really became the old blind man's direct disciple, his own life would probably be quite miserable.
On the city wall, a Literary Academy sage asked, "Are you sure it's fine?"
Mao Xiaodong smiled. "A Ten Thousand Mountains that can house several northern-ward sword immortals is by no means a place of foul miasma and chaos. A person who can be friends with A Liang, a person my master respectfully calls 'senior'—do I need to worry?"
The old blind man "glanced" at the city wall. Confucian scholars from the Literary Sage lineage—they sure knew how to talk.
He withdrew his gaze and faced the very pleasing Li Huai. Breaking precedent, he showed a kind expression. "If you become my founding and final disciple, you won't need to stay in the mountain to cultivate. Just wander around the two worlds. See that one on the ground? From now on, he'll be your attendant."
Li Huai said with a mournful face, "What virtue and ability do I have to let Senior Dragon Mountain Lord be my guardian?"
He thought: This guy who kowtows to me—how high can his realm be? One person guarding the other—hard to say. And this old senior on the ground has no backbone at all. He's completely different from my own resolute character. Even if we get together, we definitely wouldn't have anything to talk about.
The old blind man was in a great mood and laughed. "Not bad. Worthy of being my disciple—you dare to look down on a Flying Ascension realm. Very good. Then there's no need for it to live."
The Flying Ascension realm on the ground, seeing the situation, stood up with lightning speed and begged, "Li Huai, the grace of sparing my life today—I will definitely repay it with my death in the future."
The old blind man was someone it knew best—definitely not one for jokes.
Li Huai asked, "Can I be an unregistered disciple first, not a direct one?"
The old blind man nodded. "Of course."
Li Huai sighed, looking at the old blind man with hands behind his back, then at the fawning old senior Dragon Mountain Lord. What was all this?
Li Huai secretly said to Li Baoping, "Once I learn some skills, I'll help you beat up this unregistered master. It's unregistered, so it doesn't count as betraying the master."
Li Baoping laughed. "The old senior can hear you."
Li Huai laughed too, quickly walked to the old blind man's side, and skillfully massaged his shoulders.