Chapter 784: Discussion
The Old Scholar turned his head and scolded the two fools, "What are you standing there for? Come over quickly and meet your little junior brother!"
The Old Scholar still held his closing disciple's arm with one hand, unwilling to let go.
Zuo You and Liu Shiliu quickly walked to their teacher's side.
Liu Shiliu smiled and nodded at the little junior brother. Finally meeting him in person.
Chen Ping'an immediately bowed and said, "Greetings, Senior Brother Junqian."
This senior brother, whom he was meeting for the first time, had helped earn a large sum of gold essence copper coins back at Fallen Mountain.
Zuo You said with a straight face, "Quite capable, aren't you?"
Chen Ping'an straightened up and glanced at his teacher.
The Old Scholar jumped up and smacked Zuo You on the head, "Is this how you, as a senior brother, talk to your little junior brother? You're already learning to be sarcastic. Who taught you that, huh?!"
Zuo You stood motionless, hesitated for a moment, then said, "Half of it was a sincere statement."
The Old Scholar noticed that his closing disciple still seemed a bit wronged, so he immediately shouted at Zuo You, "And the other half? Did you swallow it? If you have the guts, spit it out! Say it! Your teacher will certainly uphold justice and won't favor anyone..."
Zuo You reluctantly said, "Then it's all sincere words."
Liu Shiliu adhered to one principle: turn a blind eye, turn a deaf ear, this has nothing to do with me.
If Zuo You and Chen Ping'an, the fellow disciples, were to actually fight, he would mediate then, not a moment earlier.
No one could imagine that among the disciples of the Literary Sage lineage, Zuo You actually had the best temper.
That's why he was the one who got beaten and scolded the most.
Of course, except for when he was with his teacher, Zuo You was definitely not one to take a beating without fighting back or endure insults without a word.
Within the sect, it was a bit better, but as soon as he stepped out of the Literary Sage lineage, after he started practicing swordsmanship, Zuo You was a completely different person, never one to suffer losses.
Yu Xuan's direct disciples under the talisman arts, the yellow and purple nobles of the Celestial Master's Mansion on Dragon Tiger Mountain, and the direct disciples of Han Qiaose from White Emperor City all had sword immortal prodigies who had encountered bad luck.
Chen Ping'an bowed and said, "Greetings, Senior Brother Zuo."
Zuo You frowned slightly, but out of respect for his teacher, he didn't bother with Chen Ping'an.
The teacher and his four students took their seats.
Chen Ping'an glanced at the chess game on the table and said, "Teacher must have given guidance to both senior brothers."
The Old Scholar grinned from ear to ear. Look at that, what is perceiving the subtle and knowing the obvious? What is a proud disciple? This is it!
Zuo You was fuming.
Liu Shiliu suddenly seemed to understand the origin of Fallen Mountain's atmosphere.
Strange. Logically speaking, the teacher hadn't taught much personal knowledge to the little junior brother. Their time together was extremely short. How did the little junior brother surpass the teacher?
At this moment, the Old Scholar seemed to have eyes only for Chen Ping'an. He said, "Your teacher has been busy here, truly unable to extricate himself, so I couldn't come find you."
Chen Ping'an stood up and bowed again, not rising.
The Old Scholar sighed, stood up, gently patted Chen Ping'an's arm, and said softly, "Don't be like this, or else your teacher will feel even more guilty. Sit down and talk, quickly."
Liu Shiliu glanced at Zuo You, who indeed looked a bit better.
Liu Shiliu then shifted his gaze slightly to the young man in blue robes carrying a sword on his back, sitting upright with a straight back, fists clenched tightly on his knees.
He had a pair of memorable eyes, clear and bright, like the streams of Fallen Mountain, flowing wherever they pleased.
The Old Scholar said, "Zuo You, Junqian, tell him about your affairs. Don't wait for your little junior brother to ask you."
Liu Shiliu roughly recounted his experiences since returning to the Bright World: going to Fallen Mountain, challenging the heavens, then heading south to Old Dragon City, then to Parasol Leaf Continent, taking on a direct disciple in a blessed land, and finally going to the Barbaric World to the Sword Qi Great Wall, where he happened to reunite with Senior Brother Zuo You, and they came together to the Central Plains Confucian Temple.
It took about half a stick of incense. Chen Ping'an listened attentively, only asking for details on two matters: the Demon Suppression Tower on Parasol Leaf Continent and Senior Brother Junqian's first disciple.
When it was Zuo You's turn, he said very little, just one sentence: "After leaving the Bright World, I fought people beyond the heavens. None of them died."
Chen Ping'an asked quietly, "Where is Xiao Xun now?"
Zuo You said, "She was cut down to the Blue Lotus World."
Chen Ping'an was speechless.
That former Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall, Xiao Xun, was a Fourteenth Realm sword cultivator.
Even if Xiao Xun's Fourteenth Realm wasn't the Unity of Man that sword cultivators pursued, she was still a genuine Fourteenth Realm.
And the power of a Fourteenth Realm cultivator, Chen Ping'an had just experienced on the night ferry boat.
In Senior Brother Zuo You's words, a life-and-death duel with a Fourteenth Realm sword cultivator seemed like nothing more than trading sword strikes, each cutting at the other until one died...
For a moment, Chen Ping'an felt a twinge of regret, remembering his sword training at the Sword Qi Great Wall back then.
Zuo You said, "Cao Qinglang is rigorous in his studies and clear-minded. Pei Qian is diligent in martial arts and hasn't wasted her talent. Both respect their teacher and value the Way. The two students you took on are both good."
The implication being that the student's teacher and the disciple's master might not necessarily be "good"?
Chen Ping'an took out several jugs of wine and handed them one by one to his teacher and senior brothers.
The Old Scholar removed the clay seal, held the jug in both hands, took a small sip, squinted with delight, and nodded lightly. Just that small sip made the old man feel pleasantly tipsy.
Learning in youth is like the rising sun. Learning in maturity is like the midday sun. A gentleman's learning is like a cicada shedding its shell, transforming completely.
Learning in old age is like the light of a candle. A gentleman does not worry about his age declining, but about his will growing weary.
The three disciples before him made the teacher feel that his own knowledge was shallow, that there was nothing left to teach them.
In fact, each one was so good that even the teacher's advice to take care of themselves seemed superfluous.
When a lineage of literary tradition declines, those shaped by that culture must feel pain.
Zuo You's swordsmanship was high, his talent was high, but he was limited by his own temperament.
Junqian's knowledge was not bad, his temper was good, suitable for transmitting the Way, imparting knowledge, and resolving doubts, but ultimately limited by his anomalous identity.
In the end, some burdens fell on the shoulders of the youngest, Chen Ping'an.
Chen Ping'an suddenly said, "After Teacher left last time, Senior Brother Zuo also didn't bring any friends to the tavern to patronize."
Since the jar was already broken, let it shatter. With Teacher present, who's afraid of whom?
Zuo You's face darkened.
Liu Shiliu gave the little junior brother a thumbs up.
The Old Scholar said, "Zuo You."
Zuo You immediately replied, "It was your student who forgot."
The Old Scholar asked again, "And did you also forget that you have a little junior brother?"
Zuo You remained silent.
The Old Scholar said, "If your teacher remembers correctly, your junior brother could only rely on you, his only senior brother, at the Sword Qi Great Wall. It's often said that a senior brother is like half an elder. It seems your teacher's words hold no weight."
Zuo You had no choice but to say, "I taught junior brother swordsmanship and also paid attention to his studies."
The Old Scholar said, "From the sound of it, you feel wronged."
Zuo You shook his head. "No. It's a senior brother's duty."
Zuo You, who had never liked drinking in his life, began to drink.
Chen Ping'an said, "Teacher, I heard there's a girl named Yu Xin on Parasol Leaf Continent who seems to have a good relationship with Senior Brother. This girl has a strong sense of responsibility. Back then, she took great risks just to send a flying sword message to the Jade Gui Sect's ancestral hall."
The Old Scholar beamed. "I know, I know. I've met her. She's a good girl, indeed a good one. She looks like a kind-hearted woman. Your wooden-headed Senior Brother Zuo might not even be worthy of her."
Zuo You said, "That's good, being unworthy."
Since he couldn't refute his teacher, he had to settle for the next best thing.
Chen Ping'an was about to speak when Zuo You shot him a sidelong glance.
Chen Ping'an had no choice but to shut his mouth and not add unnecessary praise.
The Old Scholar picked up his wine jug, slowly stood up, and said with a smile, "Your teacher has some matters to attend to. You three chat."
Before his students arrived, the old man would complain about why the Confucian Temple council was in such a hurry. What harm would a few days' delay do? Once his three students arrived at the Merit Forest, the old man started complaining about why the council was so urgent. Wouldn't more preparation time be better?
As for what the Old Scholar was busy with, of course, he was busy chatting with his old friends.
He would talk about how his student Zuo You's talent in swordsmanship was mediocre—hadn't he failed to kill that Fourteenth Realm sword cultivator beyond the heavens? The big fool Liu Shiliu's punches at the firmament of Bottle Gourd Continent were just a drizzle, nothing worth mentioning. And of course, he would ask those old buddies if they knew who had come to the Merit Forest earlier, breaking one more restriction than when Yu Xuan returned to the Confucian Temple? By the way, he would ask what year it was on Central Plains Divine Continent, then convert it to the Great Li calendar of Bottle Gourd Continent to figure out how old his closing disciple was today...
The three followed the old man as he stood up.
Zuo You said softly, "Teacher."
The Old Scholar asked in confusion, "What?"
Zuo You said nothing, but there was guilt and sadness in his eyes.
The Old Scholar laughed heartily. The short, small old man stood on tiptoe, straightened the collar of this disciple's robe, and comforted him, "Your teacher is just a scholar, not someone who shouts and kills. Realm, cultivation, fighting skills—are those even important? No difficulty, no gentleman. Not a day without righteousness."
Zuo You nodded.
The Old Scholar suddenly called out, "Junqian!"
Liu Shiliu immediately replied respectfully, "Your student is here."
The Old Scholar looked at this big oaf, shook his head, and sighed deeply.
Liu Shiliu asked, "Teacher?"
The Old Scholar pointed at Zuo You and Chen Ping'an and said with anguish, "Junqian, look at you. There's no need to mention your little junior brother. Even Zuo You has had girls who liked him. He just didn't like them back. But you—huh? What's going on? Shouldn't you feel guilty? Isn't it embarrassing?"
Liu Shiliu scratched his head.
Zuo You chuckled and said, "When it comes to luck with women, compared to junior brother, I'm far behind. Back at the Sword Qi Great Wall, many women made special trips to that tavern. If this kind of thing can be divided into realms, then Junqian and I are lowly fifth-realm cultivators with poor aptitude, while junior brother has long been at the Ascension Stage, just short of unifying the Fourteenth Realm, right?"
Liu Shiliu suddenly realized, "So that's it, no wonder."
Chen Ping'an maintained a smile.
The Old Scholar said, "The two of you don't understand a thing."
He patted his closing disciple's sleeve and said admiringly, "To stand firm in a chaotic garden of flowers—that's the mark of a true hero."
Chen Ping'an said helplessly, "It's not as exaggerated as Teacher says."
The Old Scholar said, "It is! How could it not be!"
Chen Ping'an insisted, "Really, it's not."
The Old Scholar stroked his beard and smiled, "Alright, alright, it's not."
Liu Shiliu looked at the little junior brother.
He always had an illusion, as if two different people resided within one body.
Zuo You and Liu Shiliu, the two senior brothers, had a tacit understanding. They exchanged a glance and each nodded lightly.
This little junior brother, since he satisfied Teacher so much, must not slack off in his sword and fist training.
The Old Scholar swaggered off, his sleeves flapping.
He would go find that big oaf from Sui Mountain and have a good chat.
It seemed that the fourth-generation Ju Zi of the Mohist school had also arrived.
Dong the Master Without Official Title, and Fu the Old Man Without Official Title. What were the two of them busy with? They should have a good talk.
And Yu Xuan.
The Old Scholar felt he should visit each of them. It wouldn't do to neglect etiquette.
After all, he was the boss of this Merit Forest. He ought to fulfill his duties as a host.
As for how to chat, he had already rehearsed his lines. With that big oaf from Sui Mountain, he would talk about that youth who casually cleaved open the Sui Mountain restriction with a single sword strike back then. Didn't he want to see him?
The debate studies of the Mohist school were exquisite. It was a pity his closing disciple was already the closing disciple of the Literary Sage lineage. Otherwise, serving as the fifth-generation Ju Zi of the Mohist school—he wouldn't dare say he was more than capable, but barely competent, definitely not an exaggeration. Of course, if he could concurrently serve as Ju Zi, this Old Scholar, with his broad-mindedness, wouldn't mind a bit. The Confucian Temple could negotiate. Did that old man know what kind of friendship he had with the Old Master and the Ritual Sage?
With that old fellow Yu Xuan, he had even more to talk about.
That young girl from Golden Armor Continent, less than thirty years old, at the ninth-realm martial arts level—her name was Zheng Qian, right?
Coincidentally, she was his grand-disciple! Haha, even more coincidentally, that young man who made the Confucian Temple open several restrictions was Zheng Qian's master, his closing disciple.
The old man looked back.
Zuo You. Junqian. Chen Ping'an.
The old man was very proud, but he soon turned his head back, as if afraid to look any longer.
The old man was just a little heartbroken—how had they ended up as his students?
---
A three-story building ship sailed along the river. Compared to the immortal ferry ships at the Inquiry Ford, this ship was not conspicuous, and its speed was slow. The ship's master had clearly timed his arrival for the Confucian Temple council, unlike the likes of Qin Zao and Yan Ge, who had nothing important to do but rushed over early to freeload.
Three horsemen rode slowly along the bank. A Liang spotted the ship moving sedately along the waterway, and with that familiar aura, he understood immediately. He adjusted his bamboo hat, twisted his hips, and stood up on the horse's back. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted, "Brother Ding! Brother Ding! Over here!"
The building ship drew slightly closer to the shore, and soon more than a dozen immortals appeared at the bow. Some of them had actually been reluctant to show themselves, but the straw-hatted man's eyes swept over them, not missing a single old friend. They had no choice but to call out to each other, sharing the hardship, and step out from the ship's cabins.
At the center, like a moon surrounded by stars, was a short, stocky man of unremarkable appearance. Yet beside him stood two stunningly beautiful maidservants, their light makeup making them peerless beauties.
At the man's waist hung an unremarkable autumn-water goose-feather saber, exuding no aura. He looked like an insignificant servant, yet he stood boldly among a crowd of nobles.
Li Huai had little interest in these extraordinary adepts who sought immortality on the mountains. He felt he couldn't climb high enough to associate with them, and showing warmth only to receive coldness was pointless. So his attention was more on the ship. In the water, a white dragon and an ink-black flood dragon were towing the building ship. These two divine creatures slowly raised their heads, causing not a single splash. This startled Li Huai greatly, but he soon relaxed, guessing it was probably some talisman technique.
Li Huai looked down at the horse beneath him, transformed from a talisman of swift travel, then at the other's celestial mansion style.
Comparing people could drive one mad. Following A Liang meant living in shabbiness. If it weren't for their brotherhood, he wouldn't suffer this. According to Li Huai's usual style, rather than puffing himself up to seem rich, it was better to simply break the jar and give up, honestly traveling on foot. Back when he traveled with Chen Ping'an, didn't they wear straw sandals, with a few pairs in their book baskets, and no one looked down on them?
A Liang said to Li Huai, "What are you standing there for? Shout 'Brother Ding'! He's my good brother, which makes him your good buddy too, right?"
Li Huai wasn't stupid. He turned sideways, cupped his hands in salute toward the ship, and said, "Senior Ding."
This time, Li Huai didn't bother to introduce himself. He didn't want his reputation ruined before he even set foot in the martial world.
The expressions of the two maidservants beside the man were peculiar.
The saber-wielding man didn't mind.
This supreme cultivator of the Central Plains Divine Continent, using the alias Guo Outing, with the Dao name Youming, was a sect master.
His true name was known only to the Confucian Temple.
He only gave the yellow-robed old man a few extra glances.
Was there such a supreme cultivator in the Bright World?
Guo Outing didn't overthink it. He just assumed it was the current times, like the season of Awakening of Insects, where extremely old hermits from the mountains and forests were emerging in droves, with various identities and hard-to-find origins.
A Liang waved vigorously and called out, "Sister Yunfei! Sister Meilu! It's been a few years, and you've grown even more slender. It makes Brother A Liang's heart ache!"
The three horsemen stopped, and the building ship also halted.
A Liang crouched on the horse's back, extended his thumb, and pointed at Li Huai beside him. "Brother Ding, this young man behind me is named Li Huai, a youthful talent. He's young, but his knowledge rivals Yuan Pang, his fist techniques rival Chun Qing, his Go rivals Fu Jin, his chess rivals Xu Bai..."
A Liang quickly added, "Actually, I know him, but he doesn't know me. We haven't yet sworn brotherhood by cutting off a chicken head and burning yellow paper, nor written our names in the Golden Orchid Book."
Li Huai's face stiffened. Once there were no outsiders, there would be heavy thanks.
The tender Taoist on horseback by the shore sighed softly. His young master truly had deep fortune. Others had to fight tooth and nail to earn a little fame, but Master Li Huai gained it effortlessly.
Guo Outing smiled slightly, as if remembering that "young and talented" scholar Li Huai.
This Ascension Stage great cultivator knew A Liang inside out and was about to take his leave. He must not give A Liang any chance to climb up. If A Liang boarded the ship, the consequences would be unimaginable. Among the small handful of great cultivators in the Bright World that Guo Outing remembered, no matter how eccentric or bizarre their temperaments or actions, there was always a pattern to be discerned, to some extent. But this straw-hatted man in front of him—one could never know what his next sentence would be or what his next action would be.
For example, when meeting that demonic tyrant from White Emperor City, as long as one didn't mention his master, everything was fine.
Guo Outing had never thought that Liu Qi was the most underestimated cultivator. He always firmly believed that Zheng Juzhong was.
Or take Zuo You—extremely proud and hard to get close to. As long as one didn't actively provoke him, there would be no trouble.
But that scholar, a descendant of the sages, who had abandoned his surname while traveling the martial world as a swordsman—he was capable of any dirty deed.
A Liang laughed and waved dismissively. "Forget it, no need for such a warm invitation to board and travel together. I want to ride horseback and enjoy the scenery with my good brother."
Guo Outing was a little surprised. When had A Liang changed his nature? When cultivators sensed trouble, they all knew how to find a way out. But this bastard had always only found ways to climb up.
The ferry continued slowly through the water, its speed still far surpassing the three swift-talisman horses. Soon, A Liang and his companions were left far behind.
The tender Taoist saw Li Huai's confusion and helped clarify, "It's Guo Outing of Iron Tree Mountain."
Li Huai clicked his tongue in amazement. Good heavens, it was the Youming Patriarch, said to be able to cut off the Yellow Spring Road with a single saber slash!
One of the ten on Central Plains Divine Continent, also an Ascension Stage great demon. Iron Tree Mountain was a great sect of the Bright World. If White Emperor City was the sacred place in the hearts of wild cultivators, then this Youming Dao Lord's Iron Tree Mountain made all mountain and marsh spirits yearn for it.
The tender Taoist let out a long sigh. They were of the same anomalous origin, but one thrived in the Bright World, establishing a sect and receiving ten thousand people's reverence, while the other lay crouching at the gate in the hundred-thousand great mountains, in a place where even birds didn't shit, enduring humiliation.
Li Huai came to his senses and realized he had been set up by A Liang again. He poked A Liang with his walking staff, enraged. "Ting! It's not pronounced Ding! It's 'Ting,' your damn 'Ding'!"
A Liang dodged the walking staff while picking his nose. "I call him whatever I want. Didn't you see Brother Ouding actually responded? If it were an ordinary person, even shouting their throat hoarse wouldn't stop that 'Limpid' ferry."
Li Huai put away the walking staff, hesitated, then whispered, "I always felt that ship had a bit too much murderous aura. A Liang, is it just my imagination?"
The tender Taoist exclaimed, "Young master, it's as if you've opened a celestial eye! Truly divinely aided!"
A Liang took out a jug of Bright Moon Wine, took a big gulp, and laughed. "You're young. The grudges between many supreme figures—not to mention seeing them with your own eyes, you can't even hear about them. Let alone the past ten thousand years, just the old almanac of three to five thousand years has seen over a dozen supreme duels. But they were all forbidden by the Confucian Temple from being recorded in landscape gazettes. Word of mouth is fine, but no written records are allowed outside the Confucian Temple. One of those fights involved Guo Outing. It caused mountains to crack and earth to split. Later, the flowerless Iron Tree Mountain and that White Emperor City amidst colorful clouds were born."
A Liang patted the bamboo sword at his waist. "Don't let Guo Outing's harmless appearance fool you. His temper is really not good. This 'Limpid' ferry and the saber at his waist, named 'Beheader,' are truly bloodstained. To refine a precious blade with fresh blood and gore, that one is lucky—he also possesses a demon-revealing mirror of ancestral rank, once a heavy treasure held by an ancient high-ranking deity. After Guo Outing got it, he refined it into his natal object. The refining alone took a thousand years. But if it comes to a pure saber duel, I'm not the least bit afraid."
In the ancient execution grounds, the Armor Sword, the Mountain-Crushing Halberd, the Beheader and the Chopper—these were all divine smithing heavy treasures from the old almanac. Before the deity even performed the execution, just the sight of those weapons would scare a flood dragon out of half its wits.
Li Huai sighed emotionally, "Not to mention anything else, just being able to exchange a word with the Youming Patriarch—this swift talisman ride was worth it."
The tender Taoist found it hard to understand. Li Huai's awe for Guo Outing was palpable, and earlier he had been similarly restrained around the lake lord Li Yep. What was going on? Didn't you know what kind of swordsmanship A Liang had? Didn't you know what realm the old blind man was in? But you showed no timidity around them, acting recklessly without any fear.
A Liang continued to show off his knowledge. "That white dragon towing the ship and parting the water came from a painting of sea water on a temple wall at Anle Temple. That black flood dragon came from a painting titled 'Divine Dragon Bestowing Rain.' I've seen both the temple's sea-water wall painting and the rain-bestowing scroll. Indeed, each was missing a white dragon and a black flood dragon."
"As for those eminent figures standing beside Guo Outing earlier, they were first-class masters of painting. Three of them were especially skilled at painting dragons. You should have seen their names in books: Chen Suoweng, whose brush strokes are like iron hooks locking dragons into scrolls. Fang Huqing, hailed as the cursive saint of painting. Besides painting dragons, the imperial water-land paintings of various dynasties all took pride in inviting him to paint fish, dragons, and sea waters. Dong Piling, before he embarked on cultivation, was a court painter. He was once ordered to paint a dragon on the north wall of the Jade Hall Courtyard, using extremely refined brushwork. But because it was too lifelike, when the emperor personally added the finishing touch to the eyes, heaven and earth resonated, clouds and mist formed, and the water patterns on the wall surged like raging waves, scaring a whole group of dragon sons and grandsons who had come to admire the painting."
Li Huai rarely said something nice to A Liang. "You do know quite a bit."
A Liang tilted his head back and drank a gulp of wine, wiped his mouth, and said with a profound gaze, "Knowing many things is most frightening when you can't forget them. That's why one must drink."
Life in this world is fleeting, like a startled dust in the wind. The passing of years is like a flowing river. Before you know it, earth becomes companion. Flying swiftly toward death, never resting for a moment. Shedding tears for it, one cannot bear to look back.
Always cast one's life into drunken dreams. Drunk, one rides a horse returning under the moon.
Li Huai asked suspiciously, "Where did you get the Bright Moon Wine?"
Earlier at Li Ye's mansion, they had each finished a jug.
A Liang immediately grinned cheekily. "It was from a visit many years ago. Brother Ye insisted I take away over a hundred jars, else he wouldn't let me go. I couldn't refuse his kindness. What could I do? I had to accept. Drinking sparingly, I've made it last all these years."
As a swordsman, he had traveled far and wide many times, with friends all over the world. Just to store wine, he had filled two objects of miniature space.
Rather than struggling with the affairs of the human world on the mountains, it was better to struggle with wine.
As for the objects of miniature space, of course, he had borrowed them. He was a pauper, only rich in romantic debts.
A Liang let out a long sigh. "Too many friends, can't finish the wine. It's also a worry. The Central Plains Divine Continent once had a landscape gazette known for its fairness, which selected the top ten most reputable cultivators on the mountains. I was number one."
He lightly patted his horse's back.
Silver saddle, white horse, galloping like a shooting star.
A Liang bounced on the horse's back, swaying as he drank and loudly proclaimed, "Temper as cold as ice, character as hard as iron. Here is the swordsman A Liang, the romantic leader of four worlds!"
Li Huai endured for a long time before finally saying seriously, "A Liang, as your sworn good brother, can I speak a heartfelt word?"
A Liang glanced at Li Huai. This little brat was rarely so serious. Most likely, he was about to say some flattering words from the bottom of his heart.
A Liang drank his wine and waved his hand grandly. Come on, bring it on.
Li Huai whispered, "If your parents are still around, you might as well have them have another child. You're a lost cause."
A Liang spat out a mouthful of wine.
The tender Taoist struggled to suppress his laughter.
A Liang raised his fist and punched backward, sending the yellow-robed old man flying again.
A Liang's expression sobered. He glanced at the building ship and frowned slightly.
Iron Tree Mountain was formed by Guo Outing smashing together mountain ranges. It was a form of punishment.
According to his vow, as long as the iron tree on the sect's ancestral mountain never bloomed, Guo Outing would never...
On Iron Tree Mountain, by tradition, no flowers were planted. So how could it bloom?
And the one who almost chopped Guo Outing to death was the later Dragon-Slayer, the Dao-transmitter of Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City, also the nominal master of Han Qiaose and Liu Chicheng.
Legend has it that the first time the "iron tree blossomed" was when Zheng Juzhong ascended the mountain. After that, the iron tree never blossomed again.
A Liang knew many such old stories.
Nowadays, the land waterways of the Bright World had a mistress, Madam Dan whose Dao name was Qingzhong. But beyond the land, there was still no legitimate master of waterways.
The key point was that little Zhi Gui, originally from the Li Zhu Cave Heaven, couldn't even become a count of Qi Ferry. Even the great river of North Juzhou had its Spirit Source Duke and Dragon Pavilion Marquis.
Guo Outing of Iron Tree Mountain, with a group of dragon-painting masters by his side. Since they were gathering so openly, it wasn't a secret conspiracy, but rather a kind of warning?
Reasonable.
All dragon painters have one greatest wish: that true dragons still exist in this world, allowing them to see the real thing.
Back when A Liang traveled to Bottle Gourd Continent, before he met Wei Jin of Wind and Snow Temple, he had passed by a great river near the Yunlin Jiang clan, which had abundant literary fortune and dragon aura.
The upcoming trends in the world would become even more complex and turbulent.
The nine continents of the Bright World, which had seemed to be separate territories, were forcibly connected by a brutal war, binding people and events into an increasingly tight web.
A Liang sat on his horse and suddenly felt schadenfreude.
The tender Taoist shrank his neck. Li Huai asked, "What's wrong?"
A Liang laughed. "Nothing, nothing. I'm done feeling sorry for the two sisters, now I'm starting to feel sorry for Brother Ding. That's my only flaw—I'm soft-hearted."
On the building ship.
An elderly master alchemist asked curiously, "Mountain Lord Guo, did that A Liang truly ascend to the Fourteenth Realm? And was it forcefully worn away by Tuo Yue Mountain?"
Guo Outing said, "I don't know the reason for his decline, but A Liang definitely reached the Fourteenth Realm."
The entire building ship trembled slightly.
Guo Outing placed one hand on his saber and raised the other, signaling everyone not to act rashly.
A hunched old man, blind, with one hand behind his back and one palm supporting his chin, stood alone not far away, grinning. "You see my disciple and still put on such airs? Can't even be bothered to dock? Are you in such a hurry to walk the Yellow Spring Road?"
Li Huai was both the blind old man's first and closing disciple.
But now, the old blind man was only "half" of Li Huai's master. And the old blind man just happened to like this kind of irrationality.
A Liang no longer cared about the fate of those on the building ship.
He just looked up at the sky.
Heroes of the world can hold up the tilting heavens.
They must also be able to mend the heavens' gaps.
---
The three previous elegant gatherings were actually just for show.
The subsequent private meetings, visits, and secret discussions were the real highlights.
For example, at Parrot Isle, which had previously been unattended, a celestial tavern had appeared out of nowhere.
It was the earliest tavern from the Inverted Suspended Mountain, the Millet Dream Tavern. The old shopkeeper was leaning on the counter, playing with a martial sparrow in a cage. The young shop assistant was worried, having heard that A Liang was about to arrive.
And the old shopkeeper's daughter had the exact opposite feelings. She sat at a corner table, busy dressing up. The bottles and jars on the table formed a mountain. The woman was hesitating between drawing drooping-bead eyebrows or the new crescent eyebrows of a flying crow. Staring at her dressing mirror, left and right, she suddenly changed her mind. She felt that with her phoenix eyes, if she drew the upper eyelid line deeper and the lower line lighter, she might better fit the "charming and delightful" described in those romance novels. But one change affected the whole—if she changed her eyebrow-eye makeup, she would have to change her dimple patches, lip balm, hairpins, and dress. How troubling!
Currently in the tavern, the guests included the ancestral master of the Military Strategist School, Master Fan of the Merchant School, a young clan head of the Yin-Yang School's Lu clan, two ancestral masters of the Agricultural School, and a swordsman who habitually carried his sword horizontally behind him, Xu Ruo of the Mohist School of Wandering Knights.
One of Master Fan's attendants, drunk, was egging on Xu Ruo, who was drinking at the same table, to find an opportunity to chop that bastard to death.
But the tavern keeper's daughter slammed the table and cursed him out.
At a mansion on Aotou Mountain, the five great mountain lords of Central Plains Divine Continent gathered together for the first time. Then two groups of guests arrived simultaneously. One side wanted to beg the Jiuyi Mountain deity for a few pots of calamus imbued with literary fortune. The other side was a group of young swordsmen from the Shaoyuan Dynasty, with Zhu Mei wanting to see the female mountain lord of Yanzhi Mountain who had formed an alliance with her. So the five mountain lords dispersed, and other guests arrived one after another. In the end, not a single mountain lord had any free time.
At a water mansion secret realm on Yuanyang Islet, Bright Moon Lake Lord Li Ye and the other four lake lords were also chatting idly, but none of them had invited Madam Dan of the Green Water Pit.
Liu Tui, who had fallen from the Ascension Stage to the Immortal Stage, along with two immortals, Cong Qian and Qin Zao, found Qi Tingji, and Liu Tui was furiously swearing at the old bastard Wanyan Laojing.
Huai Yin found the God of Wealth Liu Jubao. Liu Youzhou and Huai Qian were old friends. Liu Youzhou seemed to have something to say but held back, because Yu Juanfu was also here, but her marriage to Huai Qian seemed to have fallen through.
Lady Huan Sha, who had come with the Celestial Master's Mansion of Dragon Tiger Mountain, took the initiative to find Jade Gui Sect Master Wei Ying, asking about the recent situation in the Great Spring Dynasty.
Cao Ci and Yuan Pang walked together on the tree-lined path of Aotou Mountain. They encountered two people descending the mountain: Xu Xuan and Lin Su from North Juzhou.
On Aotou Mountain, there were two Go boards. Today, at one, it was no longer Lin Junbi defending, but Yu Qingqing, playing against Fu Jin of White Emperor City. At the other, Xu Bai was playing against a young celestial master from Dragon Tiger Mountain.
The clan head of the Yunlin Jiang clan set aside his other descendants and only brought Jiang Yun to tour Yuanyang Islet by boat. The two outsiders on the boat were the current clan heads of the four great descendants of the sages.
In Pan Shui County, Fire Dragon Patriarch took the initiative to visit Madam Qingzhong. Upon meeting, he immediately congratulated, "Ooh, promoted to a big official! What a big official!"
Fire Dragon Patriarch was very familiar with the mountain gods and lake lords of Central Plains, and that fat woman from Green Water Pit was no exception. And Madam Dan, styled Qingzhong, most dreaded this old fellow.
A thin, bamboo pole-like old man, short in stature, in purple robes with white hair, a wine gourd hanging at his waist. Earlier in the marketplace, he had encountered a small setback in taking on a disciple. Taking a disciple was just that hard.
A man of few words, wearing straw sandals, walked the world. He was the fourth-generation Ju Zi of the Mohist school.
At Yuanyang Islet, led by Zhang Tiaoxia, nicknamed the Dragon Earl, a group of fishermen appeared.
This long-browed old man, who seemed amiable to everyone, was the recognized martial arts champion of the Bright World before Pei Bei rose to prominence.
Not far to Zhang Tiaoxia's left was a middle-aged man sitting on a small bamboo stool, with a small fish basket tied to his waist. He liked to roam ancient battlefield ruins, capturing spirits and malevolent ghosts.
To the right were three more people: a master and disciple from the Thunder God Temple of the Aiai Continent, Pei Axiang and Liu Suiyu.
And a just-arrived old brute from North Juzhou, Wang Fusu, who sat down between Zhang Tiaoxia and Pei Axiang, laughing, "Isn't this Sister Axiang?"
Wang Fusu was now a retainer of the Lu clan of the Grand Source Dynasty. He had come along purely out of boredom, just to get some fresh air.
Pei Axiang ignored him.
Zhang Tiaoxia asked with a smile, "How are Li Er's fists and feet?"
Wang Fusu sneered, "Mediocre. His punches aren't heavy, and his feet aren't fast. If you hadn't asked, I wouldn't have bothered to mention it."
Zhang Tiaoxia nodded slightly, dubious.
Wang Fusu, in his early attempt to reach "Divine Arrival," had suffered Qi deviation. In his personal microcosm's ten thousand miles of mountains and rivers, lakes and seas had evaporated, mountains and lands had sunk. The celestial phenomena were in chaos, and the pure true Qi of a martial artist was forcibly imprisoned by several sword immortals.
Liu Suiyu asked with a smile, "How 'mediocre' exactly?"
Wang Fusu answered without hesitation, "Li Er tried his best, but three punches couldn't kill me. How formidable could he be?"
Further away, the martial saint of Parasol Leaf Continent, Wu Shu, gave a silent laugh.
Nowadays in the Bright World, sectarian prejudices still existed, but they had undergone earth-shaking changes.
Central Plains Divine Continent was, of course, in a league of its own.
Next came North Juzhou and East Bottle Gourd Continent.
Then the southwest Fuyao Continent, south Bodhisattva Continent, west Golden Armor, northwest Liuxia, and Aiai were all about the same.
Southeast Parasol Leaf Continent was in its own league—dead last.
So Wu Shu and Jade Gui Sect Master Wei Ying had both been relatively quiet during the earlier elegant gathering feast.
Between martial artist Wu Shu and sword immortal Wei Ying, even though they were fellow townsmen from Parasol Leaf Continent, there was really nothing much to talk about. They were acquaintances, nodding acquaintances.
By the shore, martial artists gathered fishing.
None were below the Tenth Realm or the Ninth Realm.
Literature has no first, martial arts has no second.
Wang Fusu said with a smile, "Pei Bei didn't come, Song Changjing didn't come either. What, are they looking down on you, Senior Dragon Earl, as the leader of the martial world?"
Zhang Tiaoxia laughed, "Don't go making up nicknames. What 'martial world,' what 'leader'—if word gets out, it'll cause trouble."
Pei Bei's realm had always been a great mystery.
Did she have the Eleventh Realm or not?
As for Song Changjing, on Bottle Gourd Continent, relying on formations, he had gathered the martial fortune of the entire continent onto himself, with one punch repelling a throne-rank great demon, Elder Yuan, and killing two immortals with his fists.
Similarly, had Song Changjing actually reached the Eleventh Realm at that time? Or had he already crossed that threshold, only to retreat back to the Tenth Realm when the formation shattered?
What, then, was the view of mountains and rivers when one reached the Eleventh Realm, the pinnacle of martial arts?
During the war, Pei Bei had acted more as the Grand Tutor of the Great Duan Dynasty, responsible for troop deployment, with far fewer opportunities to take personal action than her disciple Cao Ci.
Cao Ci had made many punches and great achievements on the battlefields of Fuyao and Golden Armor.
The more promising a young man was, the less people mentioned his teacher. The greater his promise.
For example, Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City—what was his master lineage? Why, when he was clearly the city lord, did he have several junior sisters and brothers like Han Qiaose, the Pavilion Master of the Colored Glass Pavilion, and the Waterfall Guardian? Who was their teaching master? No one had investigated for long.
The Flower Master of the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land was feasting Liu Qilang.
The twelve months of the year had four life-ordaining flower spirits, the twelve flower spirits. Each of the twelve flower spirits would invite one man as their sole guest elder, hence they were also known as male flower spirits. They were often those literati and mountain immortals whose flower poems were considered "divine strokes." Appearance, demeanor, cultivator realm, literary talent—none could be lacking. However, above them was the nominal title of Supreme Guest Elder, such as Bai Ye's relation to the peony.
This time traveling far, besides the Blessed Land Flower Master and the four life-ordaining flower spirits, there was also a balsam flower spirit with a maiden's face, of shallow seniority and low divine rank in the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land, nicknamed Rui Feng'er. She had only just struggled up to the Seventh Rank, Three Fates, earning the title of "Feathered Guest." But the saying "Chrysanthemum servant, gaudily vulgar" always made the girl sad. And this hurtful saying was first proposed by a proud disciple of Su Zi.
Additionally, in the past hundred years, not a single popular poem had been passed down. At the next Blessed Land selection hosted by Bai Shanxian, Zhang Yi, and Zhou Fuqing, she would very likely plummet to the Ninth Rank, One Fate.
At the Inquiry Ford, wherever there were celestial maidens performing mirror-flower-water-moon illusions, that straw-hatted man squeezed in, peeking and jumping around, waving, or standing still, holding up two fingers with a bright smile.
The more reserved maidens would cast resentful looks and remind the annoying man, "Move aside!"
The less patient women would directly tell him, "Die, get lost!"
The young girls of today didn't understand charm. The man stood dumbfounded. Hadn't he only left the Bright World a little over a hundred years? He felt a bit wounded. What had happened to the world?
Li Huai, having learned from his mistake, took the tender Taoist and stayed far away.
A Liang scampered over to Li Huai and asked, "So what's the plan? Do we find a place to stay first, or go straight to the Merit Forest to find Chen Ping'an? Better hurry, because the council is about to start."
Li Huai asked, "Who are you?"
A Liang sighed helplessly. "Master Li, be kind."
Li Huai grumbled, "It would be more appropriate for Chen Ping'an to come see me."
A Liang sighed. He wasn't surprised. Back on their travels, Li Huai had been closest to Chen Ping'an and was also the least formal with him.
A Liang suddenly slapped his forehead.
Unbelievable.
Not far from the Inquiry Ford, a man in a blue long gown with a sword on his back, full of smiles, walked slowly over.
He had chosen his route carefully, just avoiding all the mirror-flower-water-moon illusions.
The tender Taoist saw the man and immediately tensed up.
Li Huai beamed, sprinted over, came to an abrupt stop, and smacked palms heavily with Chen Ping'an.
A Liang and the tender Taoist stood to the side.
A Liang laughed, "You've reached half my handsomeness."
Chen Ping'an smiled, "I wouldn't dare."
In an instant.
In the hearts of everyone qualified to participate in the council, a warm voice resounded, "Begin the council."
Chen Ping'an said to Li Huai, "I'll find you later."
The blue-robed swordsman and the straw-hatted man vanished from the Inquiry Ford.
Only then did the onlookers at the ferry, having received flying sword messages, come to the belated realization that those two were participants in the Confucian Temple council.
In the Confucian Temple square, heaven and earth were clear and bright. The seats had no distinction of primary and secondary, forming a large circle.
Confucian sages, the deputy and assistant leaders of the Confucian Temple, the libationers and deans of three great academies, the headmasters of seventy-two colleges, the ancestral masters of the hundred schools, various sect masters, Ascension Stage and Immortal Stage cultivators, Pinnacle martial artists, dynasty emperors, great mountain lords and five lake lords, cave heaven and blessed land masters...
The heroes and sages of the Bright World gathered here, their gazes sweeping, each sizing up the others.
The Ultimate Sage did not appear.
The Ritual Sage, presiding over the first session, was in no hurry to speak.
Five of them stood together, their positions most interesting.
Qi Tingji, Lu Zhi. A Liang, Zuo You.
A Liang did not stand beside the Second Sage, nor did Zuo You stand beside the Literary Sage.
And in between Qi Tingji, Lu Zhi, A Liang, and Zuo You.
Exactly in the middle stood a tall young man, the Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall, Chen Ping'an.
For a moment.
It was as if an entire world, as if by unspoken agreement, gazed upon one person alone.