Chapter 773: Ning Yao Comes to See Chen Ping'an
So she was here to find that sharp-dealing young fellow, who’d wasted his talent by not becoming a merchant’s son. The Green Ox Daoist breathed a sigh of relief—stealing a watermelon wasn’t worth getting struck by lightning.
The old Daoist tossed aside the gnawed watermelon rind. From calm composure to sudden realization, then to full-blown delighted surprise, the transitions were fluid and natural, without a trace of pretense. “Young lady, you mean that fellow Daoist Chen? He is my bosom friend, a friend across generations, with a solid bond. Though we met by chance, we shared our hearts deeply. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have entrusted this sword to me for safekeeping, allowing me to travel together with him to this Useless City and clear his path.”
On that rustic path in Baiyan City, a woman—a Flyrise Realm sword cultivator who had cut through the Night Boat’s prohibitions with a single sword—carried a sword box on her back, with two swords inside. She held a long sword in hand, the Night Traveler.
This was Ning Yao, who had risen from the Fifth World to the Hao Ran World.
She had first broken through a realm, slain an ancient god with her sword, accumulating no small merit. Then she opened the sky with her sword, rose to ascend, and traveled afar to Hao Ran. Following the clue of the tip of Taibai—one of the four immortal swords—she had finally found this peculiar ferry boat.
But she hadn’t expected to not find that guy. Instead, she met an old Daoist riding an ox, with a sword hanging from its horn.
Instinctively, Ning Yao thought he might be trapped on this ferry. But then she reconsidered—if the Sword Qi Great Wall and the Barren Wilderness World couldn’t hold him, how could a ferry boat full of tricks detain him? That fellow could thrive anywhere. Still, not seeing him in person made her a bit worried.
Ning Yao frowned. “This is Useless City? Then where is he?”
If he was traveling and visiting immortals on this ferry, who had he encountered, what thorny situation had he faced, that he needed to entrust one of his swords to someone else? Or was he back to his old tricks, playing the porter while scheming against someone? Over at the Flyrise Palace, they were almost ready to hang his portrait as an ancestor.
The old Daoist’s expression shifted again, seamless, with righteous indignation. “You young girl, I don’t care who you are, what family you come from, or what backing you have. What, you’ve come to seek revenge on Fellow Daoist Chen, to challenge him to a sword duel? Then don’t blame me, relying on my age… for taking on this burden for Fellow Daoist Chen!”
He made no mention of sword immortals or Flyrise Realm. He pretended his eyesight was too poor to see anything.
Ning Yao asked with a smile, “Senior, can you truly take on this burden?”
That guy had already returned to the Hao Ran World. If he were home in Precious Vase Prefecture, that would be one thing. But now it seemed he was roaming the Northern Juzhou Prefecture. Was he that idle?
The old Daoist’s expression changed again. Without needing to assess the situation, he shifted the conversation once more, speaking with heartfelt emotion: “These romantic entanglements of you young people—I am after all a man of the wilds, not suited to meddle. Let me be presumptuous and advise you, young lady: if you truly have some misunderstanding with my young friend Chen, you should talk it out. A great marriage under heaven should not be ruined by ‘not talking it out.’”
Ning Yao smiled. Sure enough, he was indeed a kindred spirit of that guy.
The old Daoist’s eyes were sharp. He immediately relaxed—this was clearly the young couple’s mountain Dao companions. Young Fellow Daoist Chen was truly blessed!
On this ferry, those of us who had managed to open up hidden heavens—the so-called “ascension in form,” moving as one wills, part true and part false—ultimately boiled down to a principle of “borrowing.” And if you borrowed, you had to repay. Willingly, with strict rules, fair transactions. But the most feared were sword cultivators who could break ten thousand techniques with a single sword, especially those who could break through heaven and earth’s prohibitions. Earlier, the female immortal Congqian had nearly been tricked here. If not for the Immortal Realm sword cultivator guarding her, opening a path with his sword and forcing a departure, she might have capsized in a ditch.
Generally speaking, an Immortal Realm sword cultivator could come and go freely on the Night Boat. But making trouble on the ferry? Still impossible. Because the ferry currently held an Immortal Realm sword immortal captive, and he wasn’t faring well—these days, he worked as a waiter in the Benmo City. It was a good thing that sword immortal had an unusually broad heart; after more than a thousand years of being a guest beneath others, he hadn’t gone mad.
Moreover, this ferry truly least welcomed the most single-minded sword cultivators under heaven. Besides their overwhelming sword qi and sharp swordsmanship, which made people wary, their scholarship was often shallow, offering little benefit to the ferry. They might even be worse than a lower-five-realm scholar from the Hundred Schools.
“Young Fellow Daoist Chen is currently in Tiaomu City.”
The old Daoist stroked his beard and smiled. “But young lady, I’m not trying to scare you. With your swordsmanship, boarding or leaving the ferry is easy. However, moving between the various cities on this ferry is not easy at all—extremely difficult. It’s like facing a Flyrise Realm formation master; you’d lose the advantages of time and place. Rather than wielding your sword to open paths and rush around, it’s better to let Young Fellow Daoist Chen come find you.”
Once that kid came to Baiyan City, he would retrieve his long sword. One transaction settled.
Besides, this Flyrise Realm female cultivator had clearly traveled with some difficulty. Dusty and tired, with barely concealed exhaustion.
But those eyes of hers—they made people dare not meet them directly.
No wonder she was the most troublesome of mountain sword cultivators. Her entire aura was sharp-edged.
On the other hand, Young Fellow Daoist Chen spoke with a gentle expression, his gaze soft when meeting others. It seemed to be the complete opposite of this female sword immortal.
Perhaps with this Flyrise Realm sword cultivator’s contrast, the old Daoist found the memory of Young Fellow Daoist Chen even more pleasant. Having just parted, he already missed him.
Ning Yao looked around. “I’ll wait for him here.”
If he didn’t come within half an hour, she would go find him.
It wasn’t that she lacked confidence in finding him. Crossing countless mountains and rivers between two worlds hadn’t tired her. But now that she was so close to him, Ning Yao suddenly wanted to stop.
But what should she say when they met?
Without realizing it, Ning Yao frowned.
The old Daoist, who didn’t know whether to stay or leave, sat on the ox’s back, feigning calm but actually panicking inside—especially when this woman frowned. He glanced at the watermelon blooming on the ground, regretting throwing it away. He could have been nibbling on it to pass the time.
It wasn’t that the Green Ox Daoist was a coward. In the old days, in the Hao Ran World, this marquis who loved to travel and play among mortals had performed many great feats and left many immortal traces. But being in the presence of a Flyrise Realm sword cultivator was genuinely terrifying. How many sword immortals under heaven had good tempers? Each of them, after learning a bit of swordsmanship, was either swinging their sword to cut someone down or on the way to do so.
Take Pei Min, for example. Wasn’t that how it was back then? Otherwise, why would he have fled to this Night Boat to avoid the edge of that sword?
These highly skilled swordsmen were never easy to deal with.
In Tiaomu City, inside an inn.
Chen Ping’an smiled at Pei Qian. “Lend your mountain-purchasing talisman to your master first.”
Pei Qian handed over the green-paper immortal talisman. “Master, just go retrieve Mistress. I’ll take care of Mili.”
Chen Ping’an nodded with a smile, tucked the talisman into his sleeve, then turned and vaulted over the windowsill, leaving the room. He shot upward, as if performing “ascension in form.” His blue robe soared straight toward the sky. Glancing down, Chen Ping’an took in the entire landscape of Tiaomu City. It was more than just a city; mountains and rivers stretched endlessly, magnificent scenery. As he rose, the land beneath him became like a chessboard, with crisscrossing lines—where intersections held cities gathered with human smoke and lamplight, or towering mountains piercing the clouds, like chess pieces placed on the board.
The moment Chen Ping’an began riding the wind, the patrol cavalry officer of Tiaomu City hurled his spear. It shot like thunder, like a sword immortal releasing a flying sword.
The spear transformed into a dazzling rainbow, cutting through the sky with a thunderous roar, heading straight for the outsider who dared break the prohibition.
Chen Ping’an slightly altered his flight path. With a tap of his toe, he landed precisely on the tip of the spear, then suddenly leaned back. Shrinking the earth, he appeared a dozen miles away. He pressed his two fingers together, silently chanting a “sever” command, and slashed downward.
It was as if a mountain-water secret barrier encountered the most effective barrier-breaking talisman in the world. The latter forcibly split open a gate within the small heaven and earth.
Sword cultivators of the world: one sword breaks ten thousand techniques.
Chen Ping’an stepped forward in one stride, simultaneously flicking his sleeve to knock the trailing spear back down to the mortal world. His figure vanished at the gate.
Following the “lamplight” of his long sword Night Traveler on the ferry, Chen Ping’an went straight in a single line, ignoring everything else.
After Chen Ping’an jumped out of the room, Mili quickly jumped off the stool and ran to the window. Realizing she was too short, she fetched another stool from the table, stood on it, craned her neck, and strained to see.
Pei Qian walked to the window. Mili whispered, “Is the Mountain Lord’s wife here?”
Pei Qian leaned on the windowsill, smiling. “It must be Mistress.”
Mili whispered in Pei Qian’s ear, “Then when I see the Mountain Lord’s wife, how many kowtows should I give? Is a hundred enough?”
Because when Pei Qian first traveled to the Sword Qi Great Wall and then returned home, she wasn’t very tall at that time—about the same height as Warm Tree. Whenever she talked to Zhou Mili about the Sword Qi Great Wall, Pei Qian was always ecstatic, recounting all sorts of strange sights and her heroic deeds. She mentioned a little girl named Guo Zhujiu, dark as charcoal, shorter than Mili, but a master of flattery who would kowtow to Mistress every time she saw her. Although that girl had the nickname “Green Duan,” she was a bit silly and talked more nonsensically than Chen Lingjun, but she was still decent and could barely be considered Master’s disciple… Over time, Mili remembered that short girl who was Pei Qian’s junior by seniority, and her habit of kowtowing.
When Pei Qian heard Mili’s question, she immediately knew it was trouble. If Master found out how she used to badmouth Guo Zhujiu behind her back when she came home as a child, she’d be in for it.
Master’s little ledgers were never written down, only kept in his heart. No one could find or see them.
So Pei Qian first told Mili she didn’t need to kowtow. When she saw Mistress, just shout “Mountain Lord’s wife” as loud as possible. She also reminded Mili that she didn’t know any Guo Zhujiu.
Mili scratched her cheek. “If I shout with all my might, my voice might be like thunder. What if I scare Mistress?”
Pei Qian laughed and patted Mili’s head. “Mistress is very strong. She won’t be scared by you.”
Mili thought for a moment. “How strong?”
Pei Qian was silent for a while, then looked at the dusk outside the window and gave an answer that seemed off-topic: “Without Mistress, I wouldn’t have met Master.”
Mili suddenly reached out and gently patted Pei Qian’s arm.
Because, for some reason, the black-clothed little girl felt that Pei Qian was a bit sad at that moment. Not much, just a tiny bit.
After growing up, Pei Qian often became like this. When she stayed with Mili and Warm Tree on Fallen Mountain, whether on the second floor of the bamboo building, at the cliffside stone table, or by the mountain peak railing, she would suddenly fall silent while sitting, lost in thought, pursing her lips, sitting up straight as if looking at a very distant place.
In those years on the mountain, occasionally Pei Qian would look up high, toward very high places, but her mood seemed to be in very low places. Even if Mili wanted to help, she couldn’t pick it up or move it.
Pei Qian no longer rolled up her sleeves, walked backward along the green bricks step by step, then leaped off the cliff. She no longer strutted around with Mili on patrol. She no longer jumped under a tree, grabbed a branch with both hands, and let Mili grab her ankles to swing together. Many branches that Pei Qian used to have to jump to reach, now she could just stand on tiptoes. The beehive on Chess Mound Mountain—they hadn’t fought it with wits and run all over the mountain for years.
Many funny things from when Pei Qian was short were like sunflower seeds in a pocket—once you cracked them, they were gone.
When Mili patted her arm, Pei Qian turned around, then lowered her head slightly, smiling. “What’s up?”
Mili seemed to pinch a seed off Pei Qian’s sleeve and toss it into her own mouth. “A little sadness, eat it and it’s gone.”
Pei Qian laughed, and Mili laughed too. At first a bit restrained, but when she saw Pei Qian happy, Mili grinned from ear to ear.
Pei Qian slapped her forehead, quickly walked back to the table, and put away the scroll with sticky notes. Mili jumped off the stool, leaned on the table, and laughed heartily. “I know! Didn’t see it, nothing to do with it!”
Pei Qian started eating sunflower seeds. Mili lay on the table, hesitated for a long time, then whispered, “Pei Qian, can you cultivate?”
Pei Qian asked suspiciously, “Why ask that? For what hammer?”
Mili grinned, her round chin resting on the back of her hand. “Just asking.”
Actually, she was afraid that the next time Pei Qian went on a long journey and came back years later, Pei Qian might not have grown taller but would have white hair.
Pei Qian smiled. “I’ve been practicing swordsmanship. It’s… not particularly hard.”
She quickly added, “You absolutely must not tell Master that, understand?”
Mili was overjoyed. “Don’t know!”
Chen Ping’an left Tiaomu City, where Li Shilang held sway, and arrived in a strange city. Having traveled this far, Chen Ping’an landed headfirst, plunging into a great river. With a single punch, the river severed, water parting at his will.
Then he broke into a third city. A towering mountain blocked his path. Chen Ping’an altered his sword technique, imitating Ding Ying and Pei Min, using finger-sword art. Sword light burst forth, mountains splitting at his approach.
In the next city, Chen Ping’an rode the wind toward a cloud-hanging covered bridge. On the bridge stood a refined woman with a slightly austere expression. Seeing Chen Ping’an trespassing, her face grew even more displeased.
This woman radiated an extraordinary aura, with countless miniature scenes swirling around her like clinging birds. There was a bamboo mat by a lotus pool, a small boat tied at a ferry, a flock of geese heading south, a shrine with a plaque reading “Lotus God Shrine” in three characters. There was a lush lawn before a gate, a celestial river turning in the sky. There was aloeswood incense burning in a censer, smoke curling inside a room, a wind blowing the curtain, a maid standing on tiptoe looking out at the plantain and cherries in the courtyard, whispering with a haggard woman… Also, on a muddy road, a dozen carriages moved slowly. A woman with a bitter expression lifted the carriage curtain, looking worried…
Beside her stood a young man with drooping sleeves, handsome features, silver eyes, and deer antlers on his head.
The deer-antler youth raised a hand, extending it from his sleeve. In his palm, a thunder method condensed, as small as a mustard seed, but its power was as great as a heavenly tribulation.
Chen Ping’an continued riding the wind. He raised one hand, also condensing a palm thunder method. Finally, the woman gently shook her head. The deer-antler youth, with a deep gaze, withdrew his hand back into his sleeve.
Just after passing the cloud-hanging covered bridge, Chen Ping’an found himself in a grand hall. Before him stood a huge mirror as tall as a person, capable of reflecting a person’s internal organs. When Chen Ping’an appeared, his sharp sword qi and thick true qi stirred up ripples and splashes on the mirror’s surface, causing images of liver, gallbladder, and internal organs to flicker. In the hall, two boundary protectors—one wielding a blade, the other offering a flying sword—moved against him. Chen Ping’an walked straight ahead, grasped the blade with one hand and gently pushed it aside; with two fingers, he caught the flying sword and lightly tossed it back. His blue robe, wide sleeves fluttering, he stepped into the mirror, strolling as if in his own courtyard. He turned his head and smiled slightly. “My apologies for the intrusion. Just passing through, merely passing through.”
Having traveled to the Sword Qi Great Wall twice, how many thousands of miles had he crossed? A Night Boat with only twelve cities—this distance was nothing.
——
Above the sea, four people hovered against the wind. Beneath their feet, the ocean surged with waves dozens of feet high, a spectacular sight, all stirred by the sword qi of that female sword immortal. Further out, celestial phenomena unfolded: eight winds roaring, five-colored clouds gathering and dispersing.
They had just left the Night Boat not long ago. That woman, seemingly right beside them, had drawn her sword, cut through the prohibitions, opened the gate to the ferry’s small heaven, flashed once, and entered the ferry.
What heavenly laws and ferry regulations? All paper. What mountain dangers and secret realm mysteries? All illusions. With one sword, she leveled everything.
The young Daoist from Dragon Tiger Mountain’s Celestial Master Estate, a noble in purple and gold, was thoroughly startled. He patted his chest, not hiding his fear. “I’ve never seen such a domineering woman with such immortal swordsmanship in my life.”
A dozen miles away, the spot of that sword was just an inch away from them.
Yuan Pang said, “If I’m not mistaken, it’s Ning Yao from Feisheng City.”
The young Daoist’s eyes glinted with interest. Could it be you two already know each other?
Yuan Pang had to explain with a smile. “When she left Feisheng City, she brought a Confucian Temple passage jade token.”
The young Daoist asked tentatively, “Ning Yao accumulated merit, like Zhao Yao of the Literary Saint lineage, to return to Hao Ran by exception?”
The old sword immortal, usually taciturn, suddenly spoke. “She is already a Flyrise Realm sword cultivator.”
The old man had already drawn his sword, guarding the three young ones. He was mainly protecting the young Celestial Master and the young monk. As for Yuan Pang, the old sword immortal didn’t need to worry too much.
The young Daoist was shocked. “How old is Ning Yao? At most forty-something? How is she already at Flyrise Realm?!”
That Ning Yao—becoming the first Jade Realm cultivator in the history of the Fifth World wasn’t strange. Wei Jin from Snow Wind Temple in Precious Vase Prefecture had also reached Jade Realm around age forty.
That she then became the first Immortal Realm cultivator of that new world wasn’t too strange either. She had accumulated deeply, had exceptional luck, and deserved to be the sword path leader of that world.
But for her to reach Flyrise Realm like this? If that wasn’t strange, something was wrong! The young Daoist shook his head vigorously. He would never believe Ning Yao was already at Flyrise Realm.
The old sword immortal said, “Ning Yao’s talent for cultivation is too good. She possesses an immortal sword, and in the Fifth World, she also has luck on her side. Reaching Flyrise Realm isn’t too difficult. But breaking through so quickly is indeed unexpected.”
Regarding whether Ning Yao could reach Flyrise Realm, the mountain peaks of Hao Ran had often debated. Most thought it wouldn’t be difficult. The only debate was how long she would need to break the Immortal Realm bottleneck. For example, this old sword immortal from the Central Earth Divine Continent had guessed another eighty years, similar to the abacus reckoner’s estimate. Only the fat Yu, who set up gambling, was the most outrageous—he said at most thirty years. And now, Yu Panshui had indeed cleansed them all, reaping a huge profit.
The young ten of several worlds, plus the ten alternates, totaled twenty-two.
Ning Yao of Feisheng City, Yuan Pang of the Confucian Sage lineage, Chen Shiyi, the Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall.
And one alternate: the Dream Traveler from Liuxia Prefecture, Shao Baojuan, the city lord of Appearance City.
On one Night Boat, if Yuan Pang hadn’t just left, they would have nearly occupied four spots.
And this Yuan Pang was the Confucian scholar who had debated and beaten Li Baoping.
The young Daoist turned to the old man, grinning. “Senior?”
The old sword immortal knew what the kid wanted to ask. He said calmly, “Can’t beat her. Barely able to escape.”
Among sword cultivators of the same realm, when dueling one-on-one, those of the Hao Ran World were far inferior to those of the Sword Qi Great Wall. This was common sense, whether one admitted it or not.
Qi Tingji, who had already established a sect in the Southern Bodhisattva Continent, had proven this truth. Cutting down a Jade Realm cultivator was truly like a game.
And now Ning Yao was Flyrise Realm.
The young Daoist sighed. “Terrible, truly terrible. I am extremely curious about what kind of Dao companion such a woman will have in the future.”
The old sword immortal, for once, showed a hint of a smile. “Since Ning Yao isn’t going to the Barren Wilderness to chop down great demons, but is rushing onto this ferry, and in such a hurry, why could that be?”
The young Daoist laughed loudly. “Old hand! Truly an old hand! Insightful and sharp-eyed!”
The old sword immortal let it go with a smile.
Mountain cultivation over long years—every bachelor old man had some romantic heroism, right?
It wasn’t like the brain-addled Zuo You.
If there really was a Yue Lao tying red threads of fate, he would surely be annoyed by A Liang and afraid of Zuo You.
One would cry and beg Yue Lao, wanting red threads all over his limbs; the other would say, “If you come near me, you’ll have to duel with me, Zuo You!”
Yuan Pang said, “Let’s continue our journey.”
The group rode the wind toward the Central Earth Divine Continent.
There were currently six such teams in the Hao Ran World.
As they rode the wind, the young Daoist suddenly remembered the blue-robed traveler in Tiaomu City, with his warm smile and excellent temper. Could it be that guy who had attracted Ning Yao? His bearing and tolerance were naturally excellent, but his appearance—no matter how you looked at it—was still inferior to his own.
Shao Baojuan had previously gone back to Tiaomu City, visited the famous name shop, bought all the books recording that anecdote, then immediately invoked his status as the City Lord of Appearance City, crushed another talisman akin to a travel permit, and set off for the absurd Benmo City.
In a palace corridor resembling a jade building in an immortal realm, Shao Baojuan saw two extremely beautiful women. One wore palace robes, with a dignified aura; the other had loose robes, very alluring.
The former was the Kongtong Lady, formerly a palace maid at the foot of a hall. She was now the leader of the female palace officials in the Western Garden of the Water Dragon Hall, in charge of eyebrow painting and lamp lighting. She also concurrently served as the Western Garden’s chief scribe, half-mistress of the sixteen courtyards of Dragon Scale Canal.
She was now kneeling on a green bamboo mat. She turned and smiled at Shao Baojuan, but did not rise to greet him.
The Kongtong Lady always wore only one embroidered shoe, year-round.
The other woman had taken off her boots, lying on the bamboo mat, leaning against a porcelain pillow, drinking wine. Naturally seductive, she drained a cup of immortal wine, and the Kongtong Lady refilled it for her.
This woman’s posture was heroic like a man, slightly drunk, cheeks flushed, like a peach blossom beauty.
But she was not from Benmo City. Her true name was Zhu Su. In Tiaomu City, Li Shilang’s domain, she used the alias Zhu Shu. In life, she had been a famous courtesan of the Northern Hao, with a peerless complexion, fond of wine. However, she once had a rule: without meeting a kindred spirit, she wouldn’t touch a drop. Zhu Su was the maid of Li Shilang of Tiaomu City. Why she often came here to drink with the Kongtong Lady was probably because she had found a kindred spirit suffering the same illness. As for the many scandalous rumors spreading between the two cities, Shao Baojuan had no intention of probing their truth.
Shao Baojuan bowed with hands clasped. “Greetings, Lady Wu. Greetings, Miss Zhu.”
Zhu Su’s robe was slightly open, revealing a hint of alluring white. She squinted her peach blossom eyes and asked with a smile, “City Lord Shao, have you already gathered the three items of coincidence?”
Shao Baojuan took out three items: a bag of dark green paint, a length of fine rope, and an embroidered shoe prepared in advance. He stepped forward a few paces and bent to place them at the edge of the green bamboo mat.
Zhu Su suddenly stretched out a foot and stepped on the embroidered shoe, smiling seductively. “Oh, City Lord Shao really gathered them. That’s no easy feat. How about we make a deal? The three items go to me, I go to Baojuan. As for whether it’s a moment of spring night or a few breezes of spring, we can negotiate.”
Shao Baojuan said helplessly, “Miss Zhu jokes.”
Wu Jiangxian sat up, her gaze deep. She put away the five pots of snail-ink and the length of fine rope, then picked up the embroidered shoe, changed her sitting position, turned sideways, bent down, and put it on her foot.
Shao Baojuan had already averted his gaze, looking straight ahead, not watching this charming scene.
Actually, among the eleven cities other than Appearance City, Shao Baojuan feared coming to this Absurd City the most. Here, cultivator realms were the most useful and the most useless. For outsiders like him, according to the laws of this world, they were ferry passengers. A Jade Realm cultivator might only have first-realm cultivation in this city. A beginner who just stepped onto the path of cultivation might have Earth Immortal cultivation here, or even Jade Realm divine abilities. Only cultivators around the Dragon Gate Realm would have cultivation roughly equivalent to their true realms.
The cave-abode little water monster in Chen Ping’an’s backpack would naturally rise several realms in the city. But Chen Ping’an’s instant realm decline was Shao Baojuan’s opportunity.
So Shao Baojuan had to make another trip to Benmo City to set an ambush for that Hidden Official. At Scholar Du’s place, he first gave away white ginger and such, exchanged for the narrow blade “Little Eyebrow” to gain a real opportunity. But more importantly, it was to approach Chen Ping’an without leaving a trace. Then he added content to the flower fumigation note, helping the descendant of the Fu family fulfill his wish. From the old man, he got a bag of dark green paint and a length of fine rope. The exchange with the Kongtong Lady for a solid opportunity was a pretense; the real request was something else.
The Kongtong Lady stood up. “City Lord Shao, state your request. As long as it’s within my power, I won’t refuse. Even if it’s to ask for the four hundred volumes of ‘Changzhou Jade Mirror’ from the Marquis of Yanmen County, or that set compiled by Cui Xielü and supplemented by Yu Nai’s ‘Quyu Map Record,’ that’s no problem. I believe Li Shilang of Tiaomu City has been waiting for years. However, I cannot transfer the abridged treasures of the Eastern Capital’s Viewing Hall of Literature. Please do not make things difficult for me.”
The Western Garden’s Dragon Scale Canal and the Eastern Capital’s Viewing Hall of Literature in Benmo City housed extremely rich collections, totaling over four hundred thousand volumes. But the most precious part had never been exchanged with Tiaomu City. Li Shilang had no solution.
Shao Baojuan glanced at Zhu Su. The Kongtong Lady turned and smiled. “I won’t keep you.”
Zhu Su’s gaze was resentful. She put down her cup, held her collar with one hand, picked up her shoes with the other, stood up reluctantly, and with a lingering look, whispered, “Wouldn’t it be better to include me?”
The Kongtong Lady ignored her. After Zhu Su’s figure dissipated, Shao Baojuan spoke. “I am not asking Lady Wu for these precious books. I only request one thing: at a certain moment, I hope Lady Wu will open the city’s prohibitions so that a certain someone will not be bound by the great laws of Benmo City, allowing him to draw his sword once and deliver three full-force strikes against a ferry passenger.”
The Kongtong Lady frowned slightly. “The person City Lord Shao wants to kill is the blue-robed sword immortal beside that young woman?”
Shao Baojuan nodded. “Exactly that man.”
The Kongtong Lady walked beside the white jade railing, habitually extending a slender finger to gently press her brow. At that moment, she found it hard to decide.
Earlier, that young woman holding a mountain-walking staff had been able to look at her from across Tiaomu City and meet her eyes. That had already greatly surprised the Kongtong Lady.
As for the “someone” Shao Baojuan referred to, it was the Immortal Realm sword immortal imprisoned by the Night Boat for a thousand years. His surname was Wan, given name Qun, a jade artisan by origin. He was currently still running errands and delivering tea in a tavern.
The design of the “Minor Heat” money in the Hao Ran World had been revised several times, but they ultimately settled on this jade artisan’s casting standard. Moreover, among the three types of mountain immortal money—Snowflake, Minor Heat, and Grain Rain—only Minor Heat used seal-script engraving, which originated from Wan Qun, recognized as a sentimental fool. This famous jade artisan, who eventually became a sword immortal, had voluntarily boarded the Night Boat and become a servant in Benmo City. All of this was for the Kongtong Lady to change her mind and rekindle their old flame.
While the Kongtong Lady hesitated, she and Shao Baojuan simultaneously looked up at the sky.
Sword light like a rainbow, illuminating all directions, flashed and vanished. Finally, the female sword immortal landed in Baiyan City.
The Kongtong Lady stared blankly, murmuring, “Such an outstanding woman.”
Shao Baojuan felt a chill in his heart.
Because he had guessed the identity of that female sword immortal: the foremost of the Sword Qi Great Wall’s hundred sword immortals, Ning Yao, now the undisputed number one of the Fifth World.
The Night Boat itself was a wonderfully subtle immortal artifact. The person in charge of the ferry had a cultivation equivalent to a Flyrise Realm.
Earlier, the female immortal Congqian of Liuxia Prefecture and the sword immortal who accompanied her to find the ferry had not boarded by sword. They had, like Chen Ping’an, first taken the ferry and then “docked” at the Night Boat. But when Congqian sensed trouble, the sword immortal had to open a path with his sword, and the Night Boat hadn’t blocked them too deliberately. As for the true depth of this ferry, Shao Baojuan, even as one of the twelve city lords, dared not claim to have seen it clearly.
Suddenly, Shao Baojuan’s figure flickered. He was forced to leave Benmo City involuntarily.
The Kongtong Lady immediately made a respectful curtsy, paying respects to someone far away.
Heaven’s will was hard to predict.
In Jiquan City.
By the great river that Chen Ping’an had passed earlier, the tall-hatted man, accompanied by Long Bin, had shrunk the earth for hundreds of miles to reach the barrier “city gate.” This city lord of Jiquan City, one of the upper four cities, moved his mind slightly. The water surface turned into paper, spreading out a white scroll. Dozens of seal impressions, large and small, appeared one after another, both red and white seals.
The foremost seal was engraved with the phrase “Wine immortal, poetry buddha, sword same as ten thousand ages.”
This was the city lord’s way of teasing the city lord of Baiyan City, who had said “immortals and buddhas vast and empty, neither achieved.”
The man wore a jade pendant at his waist, engraved with the seal text “Marquis of Fuling.” That was self-mockery.
The youth beside him couldn’t help grinning. “This Mr. Chen is elegant when elegant, and truly vulgar when vulgar. He could even open a shop on the Sword Qi Great Wall, sell wine to make money, and still have the mind to carve so many seals. No other outsider sword cultivator would do such a thing.”
The tall-hatted man laughed. “I’ve heard that after the ‘Seal Collection of a Hundred Sword Immortals,’ there’s also the ‘Seal Collection of Two Hundred Sword Immortals.’ They haven’t even collected a hundred yet. A long road ahead.”
Long Bin said, “If we could just get the two seal collections directly, there would be no need for all this trouble.”
The man shook his head. “Look at these seal texts. Do you detect any knowledge in them?”
Long Bin glanced at the river’s seal impressions. “In the way of bronze and stone seal scripts, if you divide the fonts, there are dozens of types. But Chen Ping’an only uses a few seal scripts, always strictly adhering to rules and standards. No wonder Li Shilang considers him pedantic. Moreover, he rarely uses relatively obscure scripts like stacked seals or bird-worm script. Could he be afraid the sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall wouldn’t recognize them? That the seals wouldn’t sell? And even for the side inscriptions, not a single character is in cursive. It’s as if he never learned it at all.”
The man laughed. “He only has three stacked seals: ‘Beautiful Meaning Extends Life,’ ‘Hanging Heart and Guts,’ and ‘Half-Knowing Ghost Wall.’ They’re used to borrow the shape and meaning, intentionally using the complexity of the script to echo the seal text. All other seal texts are easy to recognize. Why? Naturally, it’s a manifestation of this young Hidden Official’s state of mind. He is pursuing a scholarly realm akin to the ‘natural and just.’ It stands firm everywhere, with no threshold. There’s no need to ‘follow local customs’ at every turn. Like saying something casually: mountain people understand, scholars understand, even peddlers and porters who haven’t studied can understand it without difficulty.”
Long Bin bowed in admiration. “City Lord’s insight is profound.”
The man said to himself, “But the reason I value the ‘Seal Collection of Two Hundred Sword Immortals’ so much is not just the content of the seal texts, but because there is a tug-of-war hidden here, extremely interesting.”
The man lifted his sleeve, made a gesture as if holding a pen to write, and poked lightly. “A scholar’s affairs—reading and writing, establishing words—are two matters. Village school children can all write characters. What’s so special? But this Chen Ping’an’s characters resemble one person, quite closely. Yet he insists on laboriously, thanklessly, always pursuing the likeness of another person’s spirit. That makes it extremely interesting. I can even fully imagine a boy in a humble alley, when practicing calligraphy, the further into it, the more he grits his teeth, as if he wants to kill someone with his eyes.”
The youth looked at the seal-impression water scroll on the surface, surprised. “So there’s so much hidden meaning.”
The tall-hatted man clasped his hands behind his back, suddenly smiling to himself. “What an interesting fellow.”
The seal with the most single impressions: “Chamber of Most Longing.”
Heart set on a beloved, thinking of her, longing for her.
“Roaming mountains, regretting not far; sword out, hangs a long rainbow.”
“Clear and bright.”
“Youth’s old dream, gentle wind and sweet rain.”
“Lower head in worship of sword immortals.”
“Behind the north, beautiful eyes looking.”
“Deer bleating, orioles chirping, reluctant to part.”
“Under heaven, this place has the longest sword qi.”
“Viewing the Way, viewing the Way, viewing the Way.”
“Flower moon reunion, immortal couple.”
“In the world there is a woman of beautiful countenance, shames away the three lamps in the sky.”
“No famous mountains or scenic spots, yet it is the highest city in the world.”
“Where children play, where sword immortals drink heartily.”
“Three hundred persimmons at frost’s descent.”
“Wind cannot shake me, banner cannot move, heart cannot move.”
“Golden wind and jade dew, spring grass and green mountains, each fitting each.”
“White heron stands in snow by day, inkstone lamp goes out at night.”
“On the city wall, who is it, actually without worry.”
“Hair tied in the most clouds of the mortal world.”
“Wild goose hits wall. Fish transforms into dragon.”
“Seeking to be drunk? Don’t drink.”
“Flowers and grass lush.”
“Climb the city like climbing a grave, draw sword like pouring libation.”
“Rest at the Great Dragon Pool of Yandang Mountain, and at third watch in a dream, stars and fire fill the sky. Joyful, unable to sleep, barefoot, leap into the thickets.”
“Reincarnation of Dingguang Buddha, falls into the Saha world of ordinary men.”
“Hot pot with wine, I own the world.”
“Winter bamboo shoots fried with meat.”
“Far traveler, painted figure, person in the heart.”
“Fox talks nonsense.”
“Books aren’t expensive, just hard to buy.”
“Narrow path, everyone a wild cultivator.”
“Let you have one move.”
“Just a heavenly tribulation.”
“Freehand painting, divine power clear.”
“Only holding an umbrella while walking. Repentance is better than no fault.”
“Know insufficiency.”
“Dare not draw sword and ascend the city wall, fearing to drive away the three moons.”
“Why learn the sword?”
“Sword opens Support the Moon Mountain.”
“Which street or alley has no sword immortal?”
“Those without flying swords are also sword cultivators.”
“Only our Sword Qi Great Wall can be arrogant.”
…
And pairs of seal impressions.
“You.” “Me.”
“Shadow inseparable.” “Two hearts reflect each other.”
“Bow to the heaven beyond heaven.” “Dao law illuminates the great thousand.”
“Depart generously.” “Return nobly.”
“Pour a full cup of wine for you.” “Sun and moon swim in your cup.”
“Predecessors and successors.” “All are sword cultivators.”
“Sword immortals were once youths.” “Sword immortals were once maidens.”
“The wine sold by Second Shopkeeper is excellent—don’t believe it, take a drink. Indeed, it tastes fine.”
…
And seals with side inscriptions.
Side inscription: “Road muddy, people weary; heroes kill thieves, not recorded in books. True gentlemen are not romantic; great stones stand like rows at the horizon.” Seal text: “Originally a gentleman.”
“A thousand credits are not as good as eight hundred cash; sincerity and devotion can’t withstand the treacherous winds and waves.” Seal text: “Earning money is hard; cultivating the Dao is difficult.”
“Worldly affairs have no surprises; busy seeking fame and profit endlessly. Teach this old Jianghu to look with disdain.” Seal text: “Let’s drink.”
“Since ancient times, poets and ci-writers have wished they could kill the character ‘love.’ Only I hate that love-sorrow doesn’t come to my door. Drink his mother’s wine, anger grows from the gallbladder, smash with a staff, beat the gentle poetry.” Seal text: “Anxious bachelor.”
“A penniless sword immortal can’t get drunk; a graceful beauty suddenly gains autumn fat.” Seal text: “What to do?”
“Old friends are even more beauties, generous with many extraordinary feats. A youth’s heart has a peak, suddenly stolen by a cloud.” Seal text: “Carelessly.”
…
In Chuigong City.
Outside the great hall where the ancient mirror was placed, a lazy fellow sat on the steps, a sword lying across his knees. He leaned back, elbows on the ground, lazily gazing into the distance. Under his feet, he stepped on a white snake as thick as a bowl.
The white snake twisted its body and spoke human language, scolding: “Come cut me, you bastard! Shameless! With your swordsmanship, you have the guts to draw your sword and cut me? You could kill me? Why don’t you have them write in books that you exterminated all the dragons?”
The fellow raised a hand to pick his nose and nodded. “Right, right. Yes, yes.”
The white snake calmed down a bit, gently wagging its tail. “These old and young ones—annoying, aren’t they? How many years has it been, and they still don’t settle down? Take Old Street: they can’t afford white cranes, so they try to steal the neighbors’ white geese every day. No one manages that? And that bow-legged fellow, who squat at his door every day checking out passing girls—when his wife sees him, she rushes out with a kitchen knife to chop off the passing girls’ arms or legs. Is that proper? That fellow named Quan Zhong spends his days either gambling or buying people’s loyalty, forming cliques, fighting with the old enemies on nearby streets. They’re not just idly bored; they fight in gangs all day. If you’re going to fight, at least get weapons that can draw blood, right? Carrying poles and benches? And before fighting, they line up formations, and after, they reward meritorious deeds with chicken legs. Are you messing with me?! Huh?!”
The white snake grew angrier and angrier. It opened its mouth and bit the lazy fellow’s calf. The fellow gasped in pain, pulled for a long time, couldn’t get it off, and whined for a while.
“Haven’t you bathed in a few days? What’s that smell?”
The white snake finally released its mouth and even spat on the ground. “I don’t even bother talking about those Wuyi Lane guys. And that Li fellow, with your several descendants—no grudges, no grievances, separated by years, completely unrelated. They could have taken courier jobs to earn money, but they refuse to take the straight path. Instead, they find ways to challenge each other. Two broke groups together have only thirty-some horses. Iron cavalry charge formation? Who are they trying to overwhelm? They’re crazy! And those old bachelors and perverts—how broke are they? One bowl of wine a day, they can drink half a day, sitting on the roadside spitting and bragging endlessly about how many women they’ve slept with… And that fellow named Ordinary—do you think he’s brain-damaged? He eats only one meal a day, then every day runs several streets away to block someone’s door, demanding that the guy he once forced to swallow gold and kill himself pay him back the gold!”
The fellow endured the white snake’s noise for a full quarter of an hour. Finally, he couldn’t help it. He yawned, sat up, and said helplessly, “If they don’t make a ruckus, what else can they do? They have to find something to do.”
Every single one—wise rulers or tyrants, founding emperors or fallen monarchs—were all figures etched in history.
Actually, in Chuigong City, what happened more was arguments between lords and ministers. As long as the Night Boat existed, they would probably keep arguing. And behind closed doors, fathers scolding sons, ancestors cursing unworthy descendants—that went without saying. Every family had its own hard-to-read scripture.
The white snake raised its head, furious. “You have no judgment! Give me a jug of wine! If you don’t have good wine, cut a piece off your own thigh and let me have a taste.”
The fellow smiled. “When that immortal couple comes to visit us, I’ll ask him for a few jugs of real immortal wine for you.”
The white snake fell silent, then muttered, “A last drink before beheading? Don’t drink it. When the time comes, don’t just call him brother and then serve him snake soup.”
“Water is the waves of the eye; the mountain is the gathering of the brow. If you ask where the traveler is going, it’s where the brows and eyes are brimming.”
The fellow took a deep breath, pressed his hand on the sword sheath, and smiled. “To be young and alive—how enviable.”
The white snake coiled up. “When did you, a man without learning, start quoting poems?”
The fellow stretched. “Shall we go see if there are any new nursery rhymes, or visit Changping Pavilion?”
The white snake sneered. “If you’ve got the guts, go to Wujiang Pavilion!”
The fellow picked up his sword and stood. “I’ve got the guts, but no skill.”
He did a fancy spin with the sword, then accidentally dropped it. The white snake whipped its tail, sending the sword flying dozens of feet. Remembering something, it reminded him, “That debt collector Jisi Jun is asking you again for the payment on the ‘Laws and Side Statutes.’ He’s complaining to your wife that he really can’t make ends meet. It’s not his fault—every few days, he has to treat a Sima to good wine. When they’re drunk, they get brave enough to beat up another Sima. Wine money, medicine money—those are real expenses. You can’t blame the old man for coming to cry poverty. But today, he deliberately wore those worn-out boots with the soles almost worn through. That was a bit over the top.”
The white snake suddenly snapped, “Why are you staring at me with those big eyes? Think selling me would get you some money? Crazy!”
The fellow looked away and walked down the steps. “That woman, is she really Flyrise Realm?”
The white snake slithered down the steps. “Must be. And for some reason, seeing that woman, and then seeing that young sword immortal, I suddenly feel my eyelids twitching, my legs unsteady, my heart trembling.”
The fellow bent down to pick up the sword, slung it over his shoulder, and looked down. “I didn’t hear that. Say it again?”
The white snake turned from embarrassment to rage. It shot forward to bite the fellow’s calf, as if taking a small sip of wine. But the fellow flicked it up with his foot, then smacked it far away with the sword sheath.
He hugged the sword, standing with a satisfied expression. “Now that’s imperial bearing.”
But soon, the fellow was deeply worried. Thinking about his own wife and then that young sword immortal’s immortal couple—it truly was comparing people to death.
But no matter what, he still loved her.
The lazy fellow, walking slowly, sword tapping his shoulder, felt that when he was thirty-five, she was twenty. In that year, she was beautiful.
Shao Baojuan arrived at a mountaintop that didn’t belong to any of the ferry’s twelve cities. Surrounded by a sea of clouds, the peak had only a thin, refined middle-aged scholar and a monk sleeping on a cushion.
Around this solitary mountain, the sea of clouds stretched endlessly. City after city could be faintly seen, like duckweed drifting on the water. In an instant, the scene changed, as if they were outside the heavens. Stars as small as mustard seeds filled the view, brilliant as the Milky Way. In the blink of an eye, the scene changed again. It seemed as if pedestrians were lifting their feet, like tall gods walking along ancient roads, and the solitary mountain was just a speck of dust on the road.
Shao Baojuan first bowed to the scholar, then smiled bitterly. “Ferry master, why must you have me target Chen Ping’an like this?”
If he didn’t agree to this, he would not only lose his position as City Lord of Appearance City, but also be unable to escape the dream. Although it was just a wisp of his consciousness, sinking into the ferry’s heaven and earth was still fatal.
For Shao Baojuan, a Dream Traveler and one of the alternate ten of several worlds, with ambitions to reach the peak of the Dao, this involved his entire Dao path, equivalent to his life.
If this wisp of his mind couldn’t break free, then when he broke through the Infant Bottleneck without any demonic interference, the next barrier on his Dao path would be, in Buddhist terms, as great as Mount Sumeru, lying across his road. Among the teachings of the Three Teachings and Hundred Schools, Shao Baojuan had studied the least precisely that of Buddhism. No wonder he had repeatedly missed Buddhist opportunities, always seeking in vain.
The middle-aged scholar asked in return, “Guess, since he entered the city, how many words has he spoken to the locals, including you?”
Shao Baojuan shook his head helplessly. How could he guess?
The middle-aged scholar walked slowly to the cliff’s edge. “He is an outsider. You are half an outsider. So you are the right choice. No one else is suitable for this.”
Shao Baojuan’s three schemes and subsequent arrangements—whether they succeeded or not—were not important at all.
The ferry didn’t expect an Alternate Ten City Lord like Shao Baojuan to be able to keep Chen Shiyi, one of the Young Ten. Not just because of the gap in realms, but more so in temperament.
What the middle-aged scholar needed was, through Shao Baojuan’s appearance in Tiaomu City and some fussing, to make the young Hidden Official talk more with people on the Night Boat, visit immortals, and seize more opportunities. The more, the better.
The more Chen Ping’an spoke on the Night Boat, the more words he involved, the heavier his weight on the ferry. Every word was a nail. Every sentence was a chain. Every opportunity was a bramble cage. In the end, when that young man thought a little, it would cut his heart like a knife.
This was the ferry’s hospitality. Ordinary people didn’t get this treatment. Even the immortal Congqian didn’t deserve it.
So letting Chen Ping’an directly enter Tiaomu City was deliberate.
The middle-aged scholar looked into the distance, toward the village path of Baiyan City. “‘Human plans do not match heaven’s calculations’? That’s a bit troublesome.”
He smiled at Shao Baojuan. “You’ve already found your own way out. Why worry about future troubles? That Long Bin of Jiquan City called Chen Ping’an ‘Mr. Chen’ and asked for seal impressions on behalf of the Marquis of Fuling. So you deliberately risked exposing Chen Ping’an’s identity as Hidden Official. That was actually wise, dispelling the ‘just in case’ in his mind. And in the end, when you are forced to confront him, you can just heap all the dirty water on me. Consider yourself promised here. No need to bear any burden.”
Shao Baojuan remained silent.
This ferry master, Zhang Fuzi, had a Flyrise Realm cultivation.
This ferry boat was an immortal treasure that had risen in rank through continuous patching. Now it was an immortal artifact.
And on the Night Boat, four new cities would soon be opened.
That was one of the reasons Shao Baojuan had been so diligently running around lately.
Moreover, Shao Baojuan’s greatest reliance was not his identity as City Lord of Appearance City. It was that between waking and sleeping, he could leave his true body in his cultivation ground in Liuxia Prefecture, dreamwalk on the Night Boat, repeatedly convert a wisp of his mind, and through repeated dreams, repeatedly add knowledge to each city. Through this shortcut, he accumulated merit at great speed, enough to win the position of City Lord of Appearance City, one of the lower four cities.
But Shao Baojuan still could not determine Zhang Fuzi’s life or death, his true realm, his Daoist roots, or his hidden abilities. Everything was too illusory, too unknown.
On this Night Boat, an old saying held true: “In books, there are houses of gold, bushels of millet, and beauties like jade.” Everyone’s knowledge could be exchanged for money. Living immortals could extend their lives here, piece together souls, solidify the void, and keep a single light of spirit from dispersing.
The middle-aged scholar gazed at the distant sea of clouds. Shao Baojuan followed his gaze and saw the heaviest of the twelve cities on the Night Boat: Hongmao City, also called Question-and-Answer City. This heaviness was literal weight. The twelve cities of the ferry all had different sizes and weights.
Even as a city lord, Shao Baojuan could not enter Hongmao City. He only had fragmented hearsay.
Completely different from Tiaomu City, which strictly adhered to principles like “must seek truth” and “rather omit than write,” Hongmao City lived up to its name. It recorded countless trivial matters, both large and small. But because they were all old records impossible for immortals to verify, they were as light as a goose feather, weightless. The archives inside the city piled up like mountains, documenting everything from mountains and temples to court and officialdom, to rivers and lakes, to marketplaces. They recorded countless events—some with both cause and effect, but Hongmao City never bothered with the truth of that result, never deliberately explored the truth. For example, an official government document, the posthumous verdict of a local sage, a “fair word” from a Jianghu veteran to settle a dispute—all were recorded. Some events, large or small, because they had no conclusion in the Hao Ran World, simply ended with the two words “no result.”
The middle-aged scholar said, “Go on about your business.”
Shao Baojuan respectfully bowed and took his leave.
The monk sitting on the cushion finally opened his eyes.
The middle-aged scholar smiled. “Do you think Chen Ping’an has noticed anything?”
The monk began to doze off again.
The middle-aged scholar interlaced his fingers, gently knocking his thumbs together, and said slowly, “Northern Juzhou Prefecture, the assassin from Geyue Mountain—he escaped with his left hand, and that’s stuck in his memory. The reminder from his senior disciple, the mountain-water prison, the reflection of words, and he even figured out the name ‘Night Boat.’ The chain of cause and effect, the vein of the Observing Dao Temple in the Eastern Sea. On his growth path, he increasingly believes that every piece of knowledge and every principle has power, but at the same time, it is a burden. It seems there really is a bit of trouble. Is a young man this hard to deal with?”
Every dynasty had its own laws and regulations. Every place had its own customs and habits. Every person had their own way of living.
He recalled some old stories.
Among the ferry’s distinguished guests in history were Lu Chen, who hadn’ yet ascended to the Cyan Bright World, and the boatman Immortal Cha, who went by the alias Gu Qingsong.
There was also Jia Sheng of the Hao Ran, later Zhou Mi of Wenhai, who boarded the Night Boat on his way to the Hanging Wall.
And Cui Zhan, the Embroidered Tiger of the Central Earth Divine Continent, who returned to Precious Vase Prefecture, later the Grand Preceptor of the Great Li Empire.
The middle-aged scholar couldn’t help but laugh. “A senior disciple of a literary lineage and a closed-door disciple—the Embroidered Tiger opens the door, and you close it? Are you really that formidable?”
——
In the night.
The Green Ox Daoist sensed something unusual and immediately dismounted from the ox. The old Daoist had somehow picked up another watermelon. He crouched by the roadside, back to the Flyrise Realm woman who seemed somewhat unsettled. The old Daoist took a deep breath, let out a light shout, and mustered his qi into his dantian. With a palm strike, he split the watermelon, set half on the ground, and began munching on the other half.
Soon, a flash of blue robe staggered into view beside Ning Yao.
On a rustic path, moonlight covered the ground.
Chen Ping’an appeared on the road. Ning Yao had been waiting all along. Finally, she saw him.
Once before, at a gate of the Sword Qi Great Wall, after a long separation, he had said, “Chen Ping’an of the Hao Ran World comes to see Ning Yao.”
Another reunion.
This time, they were both in a foreign land.
And their earliest hometown—the town still existed, but the Li Zhu Cave Heaven was already gone. The two sections of the city wall still stood, but the Sword Qi Great Wall was also gone.
But she was still that Ning Yao. Ning Yao would always be Ning Yao.
Chen Ping’an smiled brilliantly. But his face began to scrunch up. He pressed his lips tightly together. Then his eyes suddenly brightened. He curled the corners of his mouth, holding back a smile, his gaze tender.
Nothing was said, yet everything was said.
Ning Yao, all these years, I’ve missed you so much. Some of it was hard, but it doesn’t matter. Meeting you today—that’s the best.
She was radiant. She lifted her head slightly, her brows and eyes flying. She said to that guy, “Ning Yao of Feisheng City comes to see Chen Ping’an!”