Chapter 775: Meeting a Fourteen-Altitude

Chapter 775: Meeting a Fourteen-Altitude

Watching Zhou Mili grinning goofily, Pei Qian felt a bit helpless. "Good thing you're the Right Protector of Fallen Mountain. If it were anyone else, not to mention Chen Lingjun, even a proud student like Cao Qinglang would be in trouble tomorrow."

Zhou Mili said her goodbyes and dashed off, going to her own room. When she came back, she carried a large bag of sunflower seeds and a small pouch of dried creek fish.

Chen Ping'an stood by the window, glanced at the sky, then pinched out a Lamp-Lighting Talisman. It burned slowly, showing no difference from the two previous talismans. Then, with two fingers forming a sword gesture, he silently intoned a "rise" command. A golden sword aura slithered like a flood dragon, eventually joining head to tail, forming a large golden circle within the room. This created a forbidden ground of magic—a Golden Thunder Pond—whose talisman aura was nearly that of a small separate world.

Compared to Pei Qian's earlier crude imitation on the street using her iron staff, Chen Ping'an's execution of the formation was clearly much more smooth and harmonious, aligned with the principles of the Dao.

A phrase immediately popped into Pei Qian's mind: the profound and mysterious heavens.

Back when she was learning boxing in the bamboo tower, the old man who taught her often said, "You, Pei Qian, have such poor talent, not even as good as your master—utterly uninteresting."

Even later, when Pei Qian had become the renowned Zheng Qian and returned to Fallen Mountain, she once sparred with the old chef. After Zhu Lian withdrew his fists, he happened to say something similar: "Compared to the Mountain Lord, you're still lacking a certain spark."

Ning Yao, munching on seeds, asked, "Is this a sword formation?"

Clearly, Ning Yao also felt this sword technique integrated with formations was far from simple.

Chen Ping'an nodded. "I learned it from someone, but I added some of my own sword techniques and fist intent."

This nameless formation originally came from his student Cui Dongshan, who liked to use a sword immortal relic, the flying sword "Gold Tassel," to draw a circle that isolated heaven and earth, quite profound. Later, at Fallen Mountain, Chen Ping'an also brought in Liu Jinglong. Together with Cui Dongshan, Chen Ping'an took out a secret record copied from the Summer Palace. It had some connection to the Thunder Pond of Hanging Peak, but the written records were more "original," concerning one of the Thunder Department's institutions—the Sword-Washing Pond of the Pivot Star Academy. He had the two of them peruse the archives, and ultimately Liu Jinglong and Cui Dongshan jointly perfected this formation. However, when Chen Ping'an used it now, he was accustomed to adding some of his own fist intent and A Liang's Eighteen Stops Sword Aura.

Being on a ferry and thus under someone else's roof, it wasn't appropriate to discuss matters of Ascension City and Fallen Mountain in detail.

Earlier, Li Shilang's technique of "Palms Controlling Mountains and Rivers" had been seen through by Chen Ping'an in a single remark, so both sides started speaking openly. This city lord of Tiaomu City spying on the inn was also, in a way, a form of warning.

It meant that within Tiaomu City, especially on this Night Ferry Boat, if the god of this world wished, nothing could be hidden.

Now that they were inside the formation, Chen Ping'an looked at Pei Qian, who immediately understood and reported a number.

Before Chen Ping'an had left Tiaomu City via "Ascending in Physical Form," he had communicated to Pei Qian mentally, speaking in riddles—just the word "page."

From the moment Chen Ping'an left the inn to find Ning Yao, Pei Qian had been keeping count, waiting for her master to ask before giving the number.

Ning Yao looked puzzled.

Chen Ping'an explained with a smile, "Afraid of being schemed against, completely in the dark without realizing, and ending up delaying our journey to Beiju Continent too much."

Chen Ping'an pressed two fingers together and flicked his wrist. From the flying sword "Caged Sparrow" within his personal microcosm, he took out another burning Lamp-Lighting Talisman, which was more than half consumed. Just like the Green Ox Daoist and the Bearded Swordsman, this was akin to creating a separate world within the ferry. Lighting a lamp, this small realm was quite different from the talisman hanging at the window. He finally uncovered a deeply hidden truth. "Hmph. On this ferry, someone is indeed secretly manipulating the flow of the River of Time, trying to make it so that without anyone noticing, 'one cycle in the mountain, a thousand years in the world.' It's definitely not Li Shilang of Tiaomu City. Most likely, it's the boat owner."

Cui Dongshan's "Sleeve Universe" could make cultivators trapped in a cage feel a year like a day, and conversely, could also make those within experience the true meaning of "a fleeting moment."

Pei Qian felt a chill run down her spine.

Imagine leisurely wandering the twelve cities for ten days or half a month on the Night Ferry Boat, only to discover upon leaving that several months or even years had passed in the Haoran World!

Chen Ping'an walked to the window and said loudly, "I'd trouble Li Shilang to inform the boat owner: Whether the Night Ferry Boat is now berthed at the entrance of a Guixu, or planning to go directly to the Barren Waste World, it doesn't matter. But regarding the alteration of the River of Time—now that I've detected it, can we forgo that?"

Earlier, on the street and in the inn, the two Lamp-Lighting Talismans he lit were meant to make the ferry believe that Chen Ping'an was being presumptuous.

Presumptuous enough to think his magic and techniques were unmatched in the entire continent, like a clan's revival patriarch; presumptuous enough to think his schemes were deep and all opportunities within his grasp, relying on a Patriarch Hall's Everlasting Lamp to barely re-enter the path of cultivation after death.

After standing by the window for a moment, Chen Ping'an turned to look at Ning Yao.

Ning Yao shook her head. "Either the boat owner isn't paying attention here, or their magic is so high that I can't detect any trace."

Chen Ping'an nodded, sat back down, and quietly asked, "This trip—how long can you stay in the Haoran World?"

Ning Yao used her finger to pick out three seeds from the mountain of sunflower seeds.

Chen Ping'an slammed the table so hard it shook. "Only three months?! Have the people in charge at the Confucian Temple lost their minds? Are they brain-damaged? Don't you worry—whoever comes to urge you, I'll scold them back!"

Ning Yao shook her head gently.

Chen Ping'an was shocked. "Only three days?!"

Ning Yao remained silent.

Chen Ping'an frowned, rubbed his chin, and squinted, his mind racing as he thought it over.

Zhou Mili quickly pushed another pile of seeds toward the Mountain Lord's wife. "Have some more."

In an instant, Ning Yao's longsword left its sheath. Holding the sword, she made a sudden slash at an empty space in the room, and in the next moment, she was already gone, sword in hand, traveling far away.

Without needing any words from Ning Yao, without any silent communication of thoughts, Chen Ping'an followed her figure without even exchanging glances, vanishing in a flash.

The two arrived at a mountain peak—the very place where Shao Baojuan had earlier appeared before the boat owner.

But the middle-aged scholar and the sleepy monk were no longer there. The peak was empty, with only a meditation cushion left behind.

Chen Ping'an reached behind him and lightly pressed the sword hilt at his back. The "Night Traveler," which had already been drawn an inch or so, sheathed itself. He looked around and remarked admiringly, "A cave heaven within a gourd, magnificent scenery. Quite a big gesture. When a host treats guests like this, it makes it hard to return the favor."

Chen Ping'an crouched down to examine the cushion carefully. It seemed the boat owner had intentionally left it as a reward for solving the puzzle.

Ning Yao, holding the immortal sword "Natural Innocence" with both hands like a staff, gazed down at a golden palace amidst the sea of clouds. "By ourselves, it's still difficult to catch this boat owner."

"There's a proper way to be a guest, and a proper way to fight for one's life."

Chen Ping'an left the cushion where it was, stood up, and smiled at Ning Yao. "Let's head back."

Ning Yao delivered a single sword strike.

Back at the inn in Tiaomu City, Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao returned together.

Pei Qian had already sat down on the bench beside Zhou Mili. Little Mi remained frozen in the middle of cracking a seed, playing the wooden dummy. Only after the good Mountain Lord and his wife returned did she resume cracking seeds like a whirlwind. Chen Ping'an said, "It's fine. We just visited an interesting place and almost met a certain Master Zhang. From now on, we can talk freely."

Chen Ping'an took out four jugs of wine—two of osmanthus brew, one of his hometown's glutinous rice wine—and four bowls. He set them all on the table. These were all items from his own wine shop on the Sword Qi Great Wall. He handed the rice wine to Pei Qian, saying, "Today, you and little Mi can have some, but don't drink too much." He poured a bowl of osmanthus brew for himself and Ning Yao, then asked tentatively, "It really isn't just three days, is it?"

"It's three years. But I won't stay long."

Ning Yao said, "Before coming here, I first beheaded an ancient remnant—the 'One-Eyed.' It seems it was one of the twelve high-ranking gods. I earned some merit at the Confucian Temple. Being able to kill the One-Eyed is also related to breaking through my bottleneck and reaching the Ascension stage. It's not just a difference in one realm or sword technique levels—it's that the favorable conditions of time and place weren't all on its side anymore. So compared to the first time I challenged it, it was much easier."

Breaking through, Ascension. Two sword challenges, time and place, the One-Eyed, high-ranking gods.

Saying this, Ning Yao's tone was calm, her expression normal. It wasn't that she deliberately made shocking things sound trivial; rather, for Ning Yao, all troubles that were past weren't worth much discussion.

But today, Ning Yao added one more sentence, "If you had been there, it would have been easier."

However, Ning Yao didn't say whether it was because having the last Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall in Ascension City made Ascension City easier, or simply having Chen Ping'an by her side made her feel easier. Perhaps both, perhaps the same.

Ning Yao had no reason to be embarrassed, because it was the truth.

Even the entire Ascension City wouldn't deny this fact. Especially the sword cultivators of the Hidden Officer lineage, the martial artists of the Executioner lineage, and the young sword cultivators of the Spring Treasury lineage—they all especially missed that young Hidden Officer who had left behind so many interesting tales and countless stories. Even those sword cultivators who, for various reasons, had no goodwill toward the Second Shopkeeper or the half-outsider—when they drank together and talked about him, whether it was "From afar he looks like A Liang, up close he's the Hidden Officer," or "One punch and the Second Shopkeeper falls," or his flashy fights on the battlefield—these were all topics of conversation, excellent accompaniments to drink.

For example, even among the nine Sword Immortal Seeds Chen Ping'an had brought back to the Haoran World, there were children who didn't like the young Hidden Officer—more than one. But no one denied that when facing an enemy, within one's own camp, having a Hidden Officer who, when sheathing his sword, could help with strategies and fill in gaps, and when drawing his sword, could charge into danger without fearing death—the difference was indeed significant.

Hearing this, Chen Ping'an felt some guilt. He raised his wine bowl, took a sip, and picked up a dried creek fish from Fallen Mountain as a snack.

Ning Yao said, "In that new world full of opportunities, if someone can slay an ancient god, even if it's not one of the twelve high-ranking ones, as long as they're lucky, they can obtain a divine ability. According to intelligence from Ascension City, the Daoist Shan Qing, the female Daoist Huang Ting of Tongye Continent, and Shu Zhongshu of Liuxia Continent have all obtained their own opportunities."

Ning Yao's implication was, of course, that if Chen Ping'an were also in the Fifth World, even if he didn't care about Ascension City or the Hidden Officer lineage, he would certainly be very busy every day, a top-tier itinerant merchant.

Chen Ping'an then mentioned the matter of Taiping Mountain's ruin, saying that Huang Ting didn't need to worry too much; as soon as she returned to the Haoran World, she could immediately rebuild the sect.

Ning Yao nodded. "When I go back, I'll go tell that female Daoist."

Noticing Chen Ping'an staring blankly at her, Ning Yao asked, "Need me to pass along an extra message? Is it urgent?"

Chen Ping'an said decisively, "No!"

Ning Yao took a drink.

Little Mi felt she could finally contribute to the conversation. She turned and whispered to Pei Qian, "Pei Qian, Pei Qian, is that the older female Daoist you told me about, the one who taught you the back-sword and drag-sword techniques? You said she's really good-looking but has terrible taste in people, right?"

Both master and student at the table felt their heads ache.

Pei Qian said awkwardly, "Did I say that?"

Zhou Mili glanced at Pei Qian, then at the good Mountain Lord and his wife. After a moment of hesitation, she said, "Probably not?"

She figured she'd probably said something wrong, so she quickly took a big gulp of the rice wine, laughed, and said, "I don't have a high tolerance for drink. I'm talking drunk."

Ning Yao chuckled. It seemed she'd need to have a good chat with little Mi.

When it came to being liked by the elders on Fallen Mountain, besides Warm Tree, Zhou Mili considered herself third—no one dared claim second.

Chen Ping'an's two senior brothers, Zuo You and Jun Qian, had stayed on Fallen Mountain for only short periods, but without exception, they talked the most with little Mi. They all enjoyed chatting with Zhou Mili because this little water sprite from Dumb Lake was the most childish and carefree of speech. The butler Zhu Lian was too watertight, the mountain god Wei Po was too restrained, Warm Tree was too busy every day, and Chen Lingjun would avoid them. Only little Mi, who liked patrolling the mountain, was both inquisitive and forthcoming.

Chen Ping'an quickly changed the subject. During the subsequent casual talk, Pei Qian learned something: her master had long admired Li Shilang of Tiaomu City.

Pei Qian found that a bit strange. It was hard to imagine her master admiring someone so much.

Zhou Mili scratched her face.

It was rather awkward.

Not quite as bad as the time they lost a poetry duel and got kicked out, but still.

Chen Ping'an, for his part, didn't find that meeting the "living immortal" beyond the books—Li Shilang—disappointing at all. He said to Pei Qian with a smile, "Remember when you were little, on the night journey through Tongye Continent, I taught you those rhymes to boost your courage?"

Chen Ping'an took a sip of wine, pressed two fingers together, and tapped lightly on the table. He smiled. "Door facing household, path facing street. Short day to long night, homeland to foreign land. Ground has Qingxia Hall, sky has Guanghan Palace. Grasping the five sacred mountain talismans in hand, hanging a sword with seven-star pattern at the waist."

Pei Qian grinned. "Fry early chives, cut spring celery. Locust tree to willow, juniper to lacquer. Yellow dog to green phoenix, lake to cliff. Below the mountain hang white jade chopsticks, an immortal's nine-cycle purple-gold elixir."

Chen Ping'an nodded. "Actually, these are all from Li Shilang's compilation of rhyming couplets. I selected and adapted them to teach you. When I first went on a long journey, I often recited them myself."

These beautiful lines had once accompanied the straw-sandaled youth across countless mountains and rivers. Whenever he felt homesick, they reminded him of the streets of his hometown, the locust trees in the village, the lacquer trees in the mountains. Whenever he was hungry, they brought to mind the scent of chive omelets and dried tofu with celery. They made a naive youth wonder what exactly were "cloud messengers," "snow gowns," and "white jade chopsticks" and "purple-gold elixirs."

"In his book, he said that the method for a poor man to find joy has no secret—only the 'take a step back' method. When I read that, I thought, this senior spoke truly, and that's exactly how it is. Many matters just can't be bypassed; you simply can't get around them. What else can you do? Truly, nothing."

Chen Ping'an smiled. "But I never expected Li Shilang to give an example later in the book. Roughly, it said that during the sweltering midsummer, with many mosquitoes inside the tent, a traveler staying at a postal station was greatly disturbed. Then the stationmaster said something. Li Shilang wanted to express a principle: 'There is no need to look elsewhere for a step back.' Because the reasoning is simple: 'Within this very body, who has never experienced adversity?' Therefore, by comparing the past to the present, you no longer feel the suffering, but only the joy. So whenever I practice boxing or go through difficulties and survive the ordeal, I find Li Shilang's words all the more apt—they seem to have exhausted a certain principle without any room left. But he himself says, 'The intention of encouragement and warning is never stated explicitly.' Isn't that strange?"

Pei Qian's eyes widened. "Master, your saying that one should fight oneself, not rush to compare with others, and that today's self should surpass yesterday's self, and tomorrow's self should surpass today's self—that reasoning comes from here?"

Chen Ping'an nodded with a smile. "Of course. You didn't think your master's principles just fell from the sky for me to catch, did you?"

Chen Ping'an raised his wine bowl, turned his head to look out the window, then suddenly drained it in one gulp, as if toasting Li Shilang from afar, expressing his heartfelt thanks.

In a layered garden in Tiaomu City, the white-haired old scholar stood shoulder to shoulder with Li Shilang, watching the ripples on the pond. He laughed. "This flattery, this heartfelt gesture—are you going to accept it or not?"

Li Shilang snorted coldly. "So what if the kid admires me? There are countless people in the world who admire my talent and learning. This kid is too slick. Maybe he takes me for a fool who can be bought with a carrot and a stick? I'm sure he knows very well that you and I are here listening, because he's already figured that by directly calling my name, I would sense it."

The old scholar clucked his tongue in admiration.

Li Shilang's expression then relaxed. He stroked his beard and smiled. "But this heartfelt talk—it's not something you can fake on the spot. Sincerity or not is clear at a glance."

The old scholar nodded in agreement. "He is, after all, the Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall, capable of scheming even against the boat owner, and even succeeding. For such a shrewd young man to admire you—you've certainly gained a lot of face, Shilang."

Li Shilang nodded. "That Green Ox Daoist only knows how to eat melons."

In one of the lower four cities of the Night Ferry Boat, called Appearance City, the middle-aged scholar concealed his form and arrived at a banquet. The room was full of red strings and green sleeves, candlelight flickering; onlookers might have thought them immortals. A woman was playing a zither. At the head seat was the handsome man who had voluntarily ceded the city lord position to Shao Baojuan, nicknamed the Beautiful Zhou.

The middle-aged scholar took another step, silently arriving elsewhere, and said with a smile to a man with a blurry figure, "You were once a colleague of Chen Ping'an on the Sword Qi Great Wall, right? Why did you let Shao Baojuan act against him? Did you have some agreement with the former Executioner, Wen Hai Zhou Mi, that made it necessary?"

The man, whose face even the boat owner couldn't see clearly, was exactly the Executioner from the prison of the Sword Qi Great Wall. There, he had taken a young sword cultivator as his personal disciple, named Du Shanyin.

This strange sword immortal, who was unknown even in the archives of the Summer Palace, was the only one in the prison microcosm who had acted—by beheading the Ascension-stage Outer Realm Demon Wu Shuangjiang.

After leaving the Sword Qi Great Wall, he had been a guest on the Night Ferry Boat. The man now said calmly to the boat owner, Master Zhang, "It's just a transaction. A certain woman wanted to get away from Bottle Gourd Continent."

The middle-aged scholar laughed. "How strange. Chen Ping'an is already on this ferry. Isn't that the perfect time for her to escape? And even if Chen Ping'an goes to Beiju Continent, could he directly decide the situation around Zhengyang Mountain?"

The man said, "Tian Wan cast a divination. It seems this is necessary for a 'one in ten chance of survival.'"

The middle-aged scholar was puzzled. "Is it that Outer Realm Demon hiding in the lamp wick?"

He shook his head to himself. "Even if that Outer Realm Demon is there, it's not enough. Here, even an Ascension-stage Outer Realm Demon is still relatively useless."

The man waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal.

The middle-aged scholar just stood there, lost in thought.

Back in Tiaomu City.

Ning Yao took out an oil lamp, gently twisted the wick, and opened a landscape prohibition.

Before the Sword Qi Great Wall ascended and left, Chen Ping'an had given this lamp to the Sewing Woman to tend the wick, and she had brought it to the Fifth World.

Now that Ning Yao was an Ascension-stage sword immortal, its existence was more or less optional.

A white-haired child popped out of the room, sitting cross-legged, hovering in the air. He had a large forehead, green snakes at his ears, two swords hanging at his side, and wore a ritual robe. His eyes shimmered. He had apparently been bored inside his small world. Forced to appear now, he was still gnawing on his fingers.

This was an Ascension-stage Outer Realm Demon, going by the name Wu Shuangjiang. In the prison of the Sword Qi Great Wall, every now and then, he would make Old Deafy call him "grandfather," and Old Deafy never hesitated—he'd just call.

However, his green snakes, twin swords, and ritual robe had all been traded away to Chen Ping'an long ago. Now they were nothing but pitiful illusions born of nostalgia. He was now a complete pauper.

When he saw the blue-robed Chen Ping'an, the white-haired child looked utterly incredulous, as if struck by lightning. His eyes were dazed, as if a lifetime had passed. Then tears welled up. His expression twisted with grievance, like a drop of thick ink falling into clear water, instantly spreading. He fell to the ground with a thud, flailing his limbs and wailing loudly. Finally, he pounded his chest as if he were so heartbroken he couldn't say a word—just sat there howling.

Chen Ping'an, cracking seeds, looked askance. "Cut it out."

The white-haired child lept to his feet nimbly. Face flushed, he began to stomp around the table, pumping his arms and shouting, "Venerable Hidden Officer, graceful as a jade tree in the wind, returning home in silken robes, peerless merits, unmatched under heaven! Fist mastery reaching the eleventh altitude at the peak, sword technique even higher—fifteenth altitude..."

Pei Qian cracked seeds and watched this rather bizarre existence, whose speech was somewhat off-kilter. Even she found it hard to listen to. He was far inferior to Guo Zhujiu.

Zhou Mili, on the other hand, mistakenly thought this dwarf was channeling Jing Qing.

Chen Ping'an said, "That's enough."

The white-haired child first fawned over Ning Yao. "Sister Ning, you kept your promise! Truly the number one under heaven, unshakable for ten thousand years!"

Ning Yao ignored him.

Then he ran to Chen Ping'an's side and asked cautiously, "Venerable Hidden Officer? How about that deal?"

Chen Ping'an said, "You are already free."

After returning to the Haoran World, Chen Ping'an had inquired with Cui Dongshan about "Wu Shuangjiang" and learned that the real Wu Shuangjiang was capable of ranking among the top ten in the Azure Underworld. And the white-haired child, as Chen Ping'an had suspected, was Wu Shuangjiang's heart demon—and even his Dao partner on the mountain.

Her true name was "Natural." On the landscape registry of the Year-End Palace, that was her name, with no surname.

But Chen Ping'an felt it was fine to think of this Outer Realm Demon as Wu Shuangjiang.

Back then, regarding the ownership of this Outer Realm Demon, things had gotten a bit unpleasant with the young innkeeper of Stork Inn, with whom he'd had a good relationship.

The white-haired child sighed, staring blankly. After all the hardship and finally getting what he wanted, he was instead at a loss.

Suddenly, he put his hands on his hips. "Who are you two—the bun-head and the dwarf? How dare you sit at the same table as my Venerable Hidden Officer?! Who gave you the guts, huh? Can't understand human speech? Get down on the floor this instant!"

Pei Qian chuckled.

Zhou Mili scratched her head, completely unafraid.

The next moment, this Ascension-stage Outer Realm Demon suddenly manifested a ethereal dharma image, instantly filling the sky of Tiaomu City. It bent its knees slightly and lowered its head, taking in the entire landscape. Its sleeves twirled, scattering starlight across heaven and earth. Then, just as quickly, it withdrew the dharma image and starlight, shrinking back to its original size. Except for Chen Ping'an, Ning Yao, and Pei Qian—whose eyes sparkled—not even the mounted patrol detected this ripple of aura, nor did they see the colossal dharma image. Only Li Shilang and the old scholar looked up, sensing something unusual.

This showed how profound Wu Shuangjiang's magical powers were. No wonder Cui Dongshan said that this Palace Lord of Year-End Palace was about to become the latest fourteen-altitude grand cultivator in the Azure Underworld.

The white-haired child swaggered over and sat down on the empty bench opposite Chen Ping'an. He put his hands on the table, then was about to stand up, but he noticed the little girl in black couldn't touch the floor either. So he just settled back, pulled some seeds over in front of him, and started cracking them. He lowered his voice. "Venerable Hidden Officer, what kind of place is this? Pretty spooky. Looking outside, it's pitch-black. The host here is at least Ascension stage. Don't tell me this is our own mountain? Mother! That's quite an estate! We're rich!"

Chen Ping'an said, "We're on a ferry."

The white-haired child was stunned. He leaned forward, forgetting the seeds for a moment, and cupped a hand beside his mouth. "Venerable Hidden Officer, when do we make our move? If we don't take it down, we'd lose face! It's dark and windy—perfect for an operation. With you and Sister Ning, plus me cheering from the sidelines and managing the formation, what ferry? Tomorrow, it'll be ours!"

Chen Ping'an smiled. "Want to go scout the road first?"

The child sighed and went back to cracking seeds, pretending he'd said nothing.

He found the items on the table—a small bundle of withered plum branches, an elegant little porcelain basin for narcissus, an iron flower vase, a black wood paperweight inscribed "Shuye"—and started fiddling with them out of boredom.

Suddenly, he felt a wave of melancholy. He slowly lifted his head to look at the man across from him, who was drinking. He rubbed his eyes, a bitter look on his face. "How is it that after returning home, the Venerable Hidden Officer has become even more down-and-out and shabby?"

Chen Ping'an...

Then he asked cautiously, "Has anyone from Hanging Peak ever approached you?"

Chen Ping'an didn't hide it. "They did. I refused."

The child stood on the bench and smiled. "That was then. What about now?"

Back then, Chen Ping'an was struggling to survive on the Sword Qi Great Wall, with no guarantee of returning home, so refusal was understandable. Now he was back in the Haoran World. How would he feel?

Chen Ping'an smiled. "I made a promise to you. So, for the next eighty years, even if Wu Shuangjiang comes, as long as I'm here, you are free."

A young clerk who had been dozing at the counter suddenly lifted his head, yawned, propped his chin on his hand, and smiled. "Young man, aren't you afraid of choking on such big talk?"

The white-haired child's face instantly turned deathly pale.

Chen Ping'an said, "I've kept Palace Lord Wu waiting."

The young clerk laughed. "What now? Are you going to take back that arrogant talk, earn yourself some goodwill here? Or will you try to stop me?"

Chen Ping'an pulled out a talisman and smiled. "Since Palace Lord Wu is skilled in divination and calculated accurately that I would come to this Night Ferry Boat, lying in wait early—just to be safe, why not make an exception? Temporarily restore your peak cultivation, use your fourteen-altitude grand cultivator power to cast another fortune. Otherwise, you might capsize in a ditch. Coming to Haoran might be easy, but returning to the Azure Underworld will be hard. As for your breaking of the rule—the agreement with the Confucian Temple that you must drop in realm to travel—I can smooth it over with merit points at the Temple."

At the other location, the middle-aged scholar looked somewhat resigned. Wu Shuangjiang had visited the Night Ferry Boat without his knowledge at all.

The Executioner said, "It's a good thing. Besides Ning Yao, who is an exception for everyone, if Chen Ping'an truly has a trump card prepared, then the moment he clashes with Wu Shuangjiang, everything will come to light."

The middle-aged scholar clicked his tongue in wonder. "Whether or not he has a backup plan, daring to challenge a fourteen-altitude grand cultivator like this—he truly lives up to the title of Hidden Officer."

Then he sighed. "I both want to see the methods of a fourteen-altitude cultivator after so long and don't want to attract the attention of the Confucian Temple. Quite the dilemma."

He turned to the man and joked, "With Shao Baojuan's luck, he deserves to occupy a place alongside you and Tian Wan."

Regarding the matter of the "Jing Bow" gain and loss on the part of the Bearded Swordsman, Chen Ping'an had lost a portion of Daoist destiny.

The man nodded. "Worth considering."

At the inn, the "young clerk" stood up. Clearly, this Year-End Palace Lord, who had already reached fourteen-altitude, was not going to cast that divination.

Chen Ping'an moved his sleeve slightly and took out a talisman. There was nothing profound about it—it was just a means of "moving mountains" onto paper, drawing an ordinary mountain.

Chen Ping'an smiled. "Palace Lord Wu, really want to try?"

Wu Shuangjiang, who had secretly traveled to the Haoran World and quietly boarded the ferry, just let out a sneer.

Chen Ping'an immediately activated a lifebound flying sword and told Pei Qian and the white-haired child to protect little Mi.

Caged Sparrow.

Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao stood side by side. The small world, aside from lacking Pei Qian and the other two, seemed unchanged.

The next moment, the entire Tiaomu City had no living immortals—only Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao, both with swords on their backs.

In the Caged Sparrow's small world, all streets and buildings turned into flying swords.

Wu Shuangjiang, hands behind his back, was the first to step out of the street. He still had the leisure to examine the lifebound flying sword's innate ability, walking into the silent, empty street.

The talisman in Chen Ping'an's sleeve shimmered with spiritual light and then instantly dissipated.

Wu Shuangjiang frowned slightly.

Chen Ping'an extended his hand. Night Traveler left its sheath and was grasped in his hand. He squinted. "Then let's meet a fourteen-altitude?"

Ning Yao smiled.

A white-robed youth suddenly appeared, clapping his fist into his palm. "Sounds good, Master!"

A tall man in a blue long-gown and cloth shoes raised his hand, twirling a willow leaf between his fingers, and grinned at Wu Shuangjiang: "Fourteen-altitude? Scared my dad to death."