Chapter 785: Nothing to Say

Chapter 785: Nothing to Say

For ten thousand years, apart from the Sword Qi Great Wall’s peak sword immortals’ deliberations, there had never been anyone who could make four such sword immortals seem willing to serve as green leaf accompaniments.

Qi Tingji. The sect master of the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect in South Balsa Continent and the head of the Qi clan of the Sword Qi Great Wall, an old sword immortal who had once carved words atop the city wall. He was at the pinnacle of the Ascension stage. By unleashing his sword strikes consecutively across three foreign battlefields, he had won the respect of the entire Haoran world by his own effort.

Lu Zhi. The only female great sword immortal on the Sword Qi Great Wall. Rumored to actually be a native of Haoran World, Lu Zhi always considered herself a local sword cultivator of the Sword Qi Great Wall. Her killing power was immense. Though not at the Ascension stage, she could be regarded as equivalent to an Ascension stage sword cultivator; otherwise, her ranking would not be placed ahead of the old deaf Ascension stage cultivator. Nalan Shaowei, one of the top ten peak sword immortals on the city wall, once stated personally that as the bottom-ranked sword cultivator, the ones not far behind him among the peak candidates—Yue Qing, Mi Hu, and others—were actually separated from Lu Zhi by two Nalan Shaoweis.

A Liang. As a descendant of the Sage’s residence, he had spent a hundred years wandering the Sword Qi Great Wall and was once the most famous scholar there. Before A Liang appeared, the impression that Sword Qi Great Wall sword cultivators had of Haoran World was very simple: only cold disdain. After A Liang’s century of rambling, that impression greatly improved—his gambling, drinking, and personal character all made the local sword cultivators’ eyes light up. If he hadn’t been suppressed by Tuoyue Mountain for several years and had instead consumed his Great Dao to cut down countless vengeful ghosts and resentful spirits on a trip to the Western Buddhist Kingdom, he would now be at the fourteenth stage. As for the large characters A Liang had carved atop the city wall, they were the most heaven-shaking and earth-shattering. It was believed that once the Landscape Gazette was released and the two sections of the Sword Qi Great Wall city wall had a mirror-flower-water-moon projection, that character “Ferocious” would earn countless exclamations of “Liu Cha.”

Zuo You. At the pinnacle of the Ascension stage. He was regarded as the highest sword technique master in Haoran World, the most unsmiling and worst-tempered sword immortal on the Sword Qi Great Wall, and also the one who best displayed the “sword immortal style” in battle. According to legend, he once performed the feat of single-handedly challenging fourteen Thrones with his sword on the battlefield. Moreover, Zuo You, with a distant sword strike off the coast of South Balsa Continent, sent Xiao Xun directly into the depths of the sea—a magnificent scene witnessed by countless cultivators.

The Sword Qi Great Wall: five sword cultivators—three Ascension stage, one Transcendent Immortal stage, one Jade Capital stage.

Yet it was the lowest-ranked and youngest, the blue-robed swordsman Chen Ping’an, who stood in the center position, and in everyone’s view, it seemed not at all abrupt.

The key point was that the four sword cultivators clearly had no objection to this.

Although hearts are separated by walls, and mountaintop cultivators often excel at cultivating the mind and nature, when these five sword cultivators stood shoulder to shoulder, their Great Daos aligned and their sword intent fused—this could not be faked.

Even Zuo You, who had turned the “sword immortal embryo” of the Central Plain Divine Continent into a joke and was also a fellow disciple of the same literary lineage, was merely standing beside Chen Ping’an at this moment.

The arrogance of Sword Qi Great Wall sword cultivators was well known throughout Haoran World. Many travelers had suffered greatly there, only to return home and, at most, imitate a young lady’s coquettish complaints to their teachers and friends, lacking the courage and ability to seek revenge.

For ten thousand years on the Sword Qi Great Wall, identities and names were not recognized; teachers and backers were not acknowledged—only sword techniques and battle merits were recognized.

Add Chen Ping’an in the center.

These five sword cultivators.

They were like a brand-new Sword Qi Great Wall, like an invincible Sword Qi Heaven and Earth.

Even if you were a fourteenth-stage great cultivator, whether you merged with the celestial time, earthly terrain, or human harmony, if you became their enemy, without any suspense, you would still die.

At the beginning of the deliberation, those who received the most attention were either of high cultivation and good connections.

For example, Yu Xuan, who had begun to merge with the celestial river of the outer stars—a nailed-down fourteenth-stage great cultivator, making the title “Yu Xuan the Talismanic Immortal” even more well-deserved.

Of course, there was also the Fire Dragon True Person, who liked to travel the nine continents of Haoran and never used cross-continent ferries. His gaze quickly swept half a circle. Besides the Confucian sages, this poor Daoist would look at whoever didn’t dare look back at him; he would then visit them to add a bit of incense friendship, lest there be more awkward encounters of not recognizing each other in the future.

Others were young, unfamiliar faces in the cultivation world, standing out in this war—young but with great contributions, their future naturally limitless.

For example, Cao Ci. And from the Azure Mirror World, the Confucian scholar Yuan Pang, and Xu Bai.

For every young cultivator participating in the deliberation, “young” meant under five hundred years old. Being able to attend today was equivalent to obtaining the biggest protective charm in Haoran World.

Of course, Cao Ci was an exception—that pure martial artist didn’t need it.

Finally, at this moment, the gazes of the deliberation participants converged, but their thoughts were different, their impressions varied.

They were all looking at the fifth sword cultivator of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Chen Ping’an.

Born in poverty in a humble alley of the Grotto-Heaven of the Li Pearl in Vase Bottle Continent. His ancestral home was in Huaihuang County, belonging to the Great Li Dynasty. As a youth, he loved to travel far. He visited the Sword Qi Great Wall twice; the last time, he stayed for many years. As an outsider, he replaced the traitorous sword cultivator Xiao Xun and was exceptionally appointed as the last Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall, commanding the Hidden Officer lineage of the Summer Resort Palace, helping Chen Qingdu deploy troops and commanders, ordering sword immortals, and directing sword cultivators, with outstanding war merits.

One of the two great ancestors of the Military Strategist school, Ancestor Master Wei, had extremely high standards but gave very high praise to that young man he had never met and had no connection with, sparing no extravagant words. He spoke two weighty remarks: First, the Hidden Officer’s deployment of a hundred thousand sword cultivators to guard the city; second, the Embroidered Tiger’s control of the Great Li iron cavalry to defend half a continent’s territory, winning all the human harmony for Haoran. The young Hidden Officer could be described as a Confucian general.

The World-Mountain Juxu, which had the strongest martial destiny in the world, had its mountain lord Huai Lian say that the Sword Qi Great Wall had fought for a few more years, meaning Haoran World had fought for a few fewer years. It had saved countless lives for Haoran—a great merit indeed.

Huai Yin, nicknamed the Abacus, evaluated this person relatively maturely and prudently, saying that the Hidden Officer’s command of the Summer Resort Palace at the Sword Qi Great Wall was more about following the trend and pooling collective wisdom; the credit was not entirely due to Chen alone, but the greatest merit undoubtedly belonged to Chen.

Even Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City, who was known for having “looked over the world with no one left in his eyes,” once joked that this game of life and death, unprecedented in ten thousand years at the Sword Qi Great Wall, was won because the player on the defending side placed his stones coldly, strictly, and ruthlessly. He regarded the demons, the sword cultivators on both offense and defense, and even Chen himself as dead stones. Therefore, he was ultimately able to find life amidst death and extract much vitality from the Barren Wilderness.

The title of “closed-door disciple of the Literary Saint’s lineage” that Chen Ping’an wore was not particularly eye-catching in the eyes of the heroes and sages qualified to occupy a seat in today’s deliberation. In fact, it might even be less than the identity of “Ning Yao’s Dao companion.”

At just over forty years old, he was already a Jade Capital stage sword cultivator and also a martial artist at the final stage.

This young swordsman, who had burst into the mountaintop view of Haoran World for the first time, stood here under the watch of all eyes, composed and extremely calm.

The Great God of Sui Mountain, with a burly figure, clad in golden armor, hands resting on his sword, and golden eyes, studied Chen Ping’an.

In the early years, this youngster had inexplicably cleaved open the Sui Mountain’s restrictions with a single sword strike, drawing much amazement and criticism, and was subjected to various speculations by mountaintop busybodies.

Fire Dragon True Person stroked his beard and smiled. Good lad, in just a few years, his bearing, style, magnanimity, and elegance were almost catching up to mountain peaks.

The white-haired, purple-robed old immortal Yu Xuan scratched his ear. Earlier, the old scholar had tugged at his Dao robe sleeve and wouldn’t let him go, rambling until his ears nearly grew calluses—truly frightening. However, one of the old scholar’s spluttering arguments was quite fair: Just like in Yu Xuan’s lineage, if the upper beam is straight, the lower beam won’t be crooked. The same principle applied to Chen Ping’an and his disciple Pei Qian. Yu Xuan pondered carefully about that battlefield on Golden Armor Continent back then, where the little girl with a bun on her head had acted; he really couldn’t find any fault. Thus, Yu Xuan couldn’t help but regard the newly established Falling Mountain sect in Vase Bottle Continent with higher esteem. He planned, before returning to the outer star river, to issue a dharma decree allowing his disciples, grand-disciples, and his blessed land to engage in a bit of trade with that mountain sect.

After all, that “Zheng Qian” had said that her master deeply admired him, Yu Xuan the Talismanic Immortal. It seemed that this Chen Ping’an, though young, had keen judgment. No wonder he could be the Hidden Officer.

Madame Dan Dan of Lucer Pit recalled the white-clad youth who claimed to be this man’s proud student; he was truly an expert in business. Her own Dragon Pearl treasury had been completely looted. She could fully predict that henceforth, whether it came to crafting Dharma robes like the “Xiangjun Dragon Maiden Dress” or the dearly beloved “Pearl in the Palm” bracelets, Falling Mountain might not dominate alone, but at least it could monopolize the source of half of the Xiangnu dresses and Pearl bracelets?

The old master Fusheng had actually met that young man long ago, at the Liu Family Lion Garden in Qingluan Country, Vase Bottle Continent.

This literary lineage studied the “Three Tombs and Five Canons” extremely deeply. Within several Confucian literary lineages, it was considered an ancient-studies faction, but it didn’t have many branches. The key was that the Dao tradition was relatively loose. Among the three grand academies and seventy-two colleges, only three colleges revered Fusheng as their head. However, broadly speaking, later generations’ exegesis, phonology, and character interpretation all regarded Fusheng as a founding father. Yet this identity had never been formally recognized by the Confucian Temple orthodoxy. For instance, the “foremost master of explaining characters in the contemporary world,” Xu Jun of Zhaoling, was merely a good friend of Fusheng, with no teacher-disciple relationship between them. And this Xu Zhaoling was Xu Bai’s true teacher. However, it wasn’t until before this deliberation that Xu Bai, at the Go game on Aotou Mountain, learned that the village schoolteacher who had come to watch the game and stood beside the new head of the Chen family of Pure Confucianism in South Balsa Continent was none other than the renowned Xu Jun of Zhaoling.

Beside Fusheng stood the current Director of Studies of the Jixia Academy, a middle-aged Confucian sage who had previously been the head of the Hongdu Academy and had only transferred to this position a few years ago. Fusheng turned to him and smiled, “Didn’t expect this day to come, did you?”

That Director of Studies nodded, “Indeed, I didn’t.”

The Madam of the Green Divine Mountain looked at that young man with a warm gaze. Though her smile was faint, it was already quite rare. She had learned about him through several channels. Her disciple, Pure Azure, had mentioned Cui Dongshan upon returning from travels—he was that man’s student. There was also Ma Kuxuan from Vase Bottle Continent, especially the latter. As one of the ten candidates, Ma Kuxuan had an extremely arrogant disposition. He had successively defeated Sheyue, Pure Azure, and Xu Bai. For some reason, in front of Pure Azure, Ma Kuxuan had dropped an offhand remark related to Chen Ping’an: “Little girl, what are you learning fist techniques for? You’re not even fit to hold the shoes for that surname Chen. Just cultivate the Dao properly in the future.”

Furthermore, it was now widely known throughout the Bamboo Sea Grotto-Heaven that a young man nicknamed “Second Boss” had, on the Sword Qi Great Wall, sold Green Divine Mountain wine using a few bamboo leaves, feeling completely unashamed. The sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall happened to love that, squatting by the street and drinking from bowls. It was probably the only tavern in the world that served pickled vegetables with Green Divine Mountain wine. There was a world of difference between scholars who traveled to the Sword Qi Great Wall.

The current Chief of the Mohist school didn’t doubt what the old scholar had said—that his closed-door disciple paid attention to all three schools of Mohism and had studied the “Distinguishing” and “Ten Things on the Calendar” each. However, as for other matters, like what the old scholar had babbled while drunk—that his disciple, though young, greatly admired Mohist dialectics and had deep insights, such as “using names to refer to realities” and “taking from categories and giving to categories,” with unique views not inferior to any great scholar of the three Mohist lineages. Especially regarding the statement “the shadow of a flying bird never moves,” he was almost in deep resonance, showing signs of enlightenment like “viewing water to see reflection.” Therefore, one of his disciple’s flying swords had its innate divine ability partially thanks to this Mohist theory. So, in turn, the Mohist chief should go to his disciple, offer thanks and receive thanks—it could become a beautiful story, a friendship between generations, perhaps even addressing each other as brothers—no need to be too particular about seniority… The Mohist chief dismissed these ramblings of the drunken old scholar as just talk.

Pei Bei turned to Cao Ci and smiled, “How is it?”

Cao Ci replied, “We could settle victory or defeat with a fist exchange. Provided Chen Ping’an is willing.”

The fist technique levels of the two peers didn’t really need a fist exchange to determine—Cao Ci was already at the final stage of Return to the True Qi, while Chen Ping’an was only at the tenth stage’s Qi Prosperity Perfection. But Cao Ci said that to decide victory or defeat, a fist exchange would be necessary.

Between pure martial artists with comparable fist technique heights, there were almost never polite words. They didn’t care for gentlemanly courtesy or false affability. The greatest respect they could show each other was to have one give their all in a fist exchange and the other receive it fully. In everyday conversation, they would at most offer half-praise, half-criticism, just as Wang Fusu had spoken of Li Er—brazenly saying “not that impressive,” while also admitting his own inferiority. Earlier, Cui Cheng, in the second floor of the bamboo tower, had said that the fist intent of the “Shaking Mountain Manual” was extremely lofty, yet also considered its stance and moves too rustic.

Pei Bei said, “There’s not much suspense in deciding victory or defeat by fists.”

Cao Ci suddenly sighed, glanced at the bamboo scabbard of his master’s sword, and said, “Barring accidents, the senior martial brother is going to be challenged to a fist exchange.”

Pei Bei smiled, “Debts must be repaid, and fist debts must be repaid with fists.”

Song Changjing had an indifferent expression, but he recalled that year in the small town, when the straw-sandaled youth had come to him with three bags of gold essence coins, begging him, “Sir Song,” for justice. Back then, the straw-sandaled youth from Mud Vase Alley could only beg others for the justice in his heart and had to offer money.

But even then, that kiln apprentice, when bargaining, was already very steady, daring to risk life and death without being impulsive. Later, when the youth, together with Ning Yao, fought to the death against the “Mountain Moving Ancestor” of Zhengyang Mountain, Song Changjing had watched from beginning to end. Yet Chen Ping’an’s ability to reach today’s position still greatly surprised Song Changjing.

Huai Yin, one of the Ten from the Central Plains, had a strange expression. After seeing the young Hidden Officer, his mind stirred slightly. He quickly pinched his fingers for a calculation, taking care to “calculate around the corner” in a very particular manner. The more he calculated, the more he felt that this young Hidden Officer overlapped with a “Daoist Friend Chen” from North Ju Luzhou, whom Huai Qian had emphatically mentioned. Could he really be that “cunning villain” hiding beside Sun Huaizhong at Grand Profound Capital Temple? According to Huai Qian, this person had unclear origins, deep schemes, was adept at avoiding danger, and had unique skills in surviving and picking up bargains.

Chao Pu, the state preceptor of Shao Yuan Dynasty, finally met the Hidden Officer his student Lin Junbi had been thinking about day and night.

Back then, Chen Ping’an had used Lin Junbi to relay a message to the Shao Yuan state preceptor, who came from the lineage of the Second Sage. It was a principle of neither great nor small: Without first discussing good or evil in human nature, just talk about good people and good intentions. The lamp of human goodness in the heart could be found everywhere in the world; it only depended on whether others were willing to open their eyes and see.

The female Transcendent Immortal from Flowing Sunset Continent, Cong Qian, always felt that the Hidden Officer looked very familiar.

Not his face, but his eyes.

Thinking back and forth, she suddenly widened her eyes. It was that fellow near Luhua Island, a guy who had called himself Cao Mo, a guest elder of the Jade Gui Sect. But when Cong Qian met him, he had an extra ferry boat, and on that boat were nine children.

Ah, right. Only the Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall could bring nine young cultivation prodigies around the waters of Luhua Island of the Rain Dragon Sect, “parading around openly.”

At the time, Cong Qian had chatted with him briefly. He said he knew Jiang Shangzhen, but that womanizer didn’t know him. At that time, his expression was quite sincere.

Looking back, that Chen Ping’an must have recognized her identity as the master of Song Ai Blessed Land in Flowing Sunset Continent and the senior sister of Transcendent Immortal Qin Zao from her sachet.

Well, he really knew how to play dumb. No wonder he was the Hidden Officer. No wonder he sided with A Liang.

A Liang, “on the road here,” had uncharacteristically donned a Confucian robe with lightning speed, a neat and clean outfit, no longer slovenly. Now standing between Chen Ping’an and Zuo You, perhaps suppressed by the “Great Dao domination” of the Confucian robe, he finally showed some shame. He first turned his head, then spat, smoothed his hair, carefully rubbed both temples with his palms, and whispered to Zuo You, “So many people are staring at me intently, it’s making me quite embarrassed.”

Zuo You nodded, “Among them is the Madam of the Green Divine Mountain.”

A Liang, still wearing a bamboo sword of Green Divine Mountain material at his waist, kept his eyes straight ahead and fell silent.

Lu Zhi began to close her eyes and rest.

Before the deliberation, in the Merit Forest, Zuo You had asked Chen Ping’an how he planned to handle the upcoming deliberation. Chen Ping’an’s answer was simple: I know who I am, what I’ve done, what I’ve accomplished, and what I haven’t. During the deliberation, I’ll watch more and talk less; if I can’t say anything, I’ll shut up and be a mute.

Xu Bai, standing among the many ancestral masters of the various philosophical schools, was far from relaxed.

Among the deliberation participants, the youngest cultivator wasn’t Chen Ping’an, but Xu Bai, who had the reputation of “Juvenile Jiang Taigong.” He was only thirty years old.

This young candidate, one of the Ten, was younger than the young Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall, the martial artist Cao Ci of Great Duan Dynasty, and the Confucian scholar Yuan Pang of the Second Sage lineage.

But Xu Bai only felt extremely awkward at the moment.

If not for Ancestor Master Jiang forcing him, Xu Bai would never have come to show his face. Even though he, along with Yuan Pang and others, had been members of the secret Military Tent Strategists of the Confucian Temple—over thirty people from the Confucian Temple, Military Strategist school, Yin-Yang school, Vertical-Horizontal school, etc.—all outstanding young talents from the various philosophical schools and top aristocratic families, who had influenced the direction of certain battlefields across the five continents to varying degrees.

But the Confucian Temple had never publicized this, so the reputation of these young people couldn’t compare to that of the Summer Resort Palace on the Sword Qi Great Wall. Among them, one person had a very special identity: Lin Junbi of the Shao Yuan Dynasty. He was the only young man who was both a sword cultivator of the Hidden Officer lineage and a Strategist of the Confucian Temple. Yet Lin Junbi still hadn’t made it into this Confucian Temple deliberation.

And Xu Bai, who would surely go down in history as the youngest participant, had only been able to attend because Wei Jin of the Snow Wind Temple, a great sword immortal of the Vase Bottle Continent and also a member of the Military Strategist lineage, had yielded his place.

Facts proved that Xu Bai’s thoughts weren’t his own overthinking.

Because there were indeed many mountaintop predecessors whose gazes revealed undisguised coldness, sarcasm, and contempt. Though not obvious, they were hidden at various depths. But Xu Bai, with a certain innate talent, could vaguely sense them. The most frightening were a few mountaintop great cultivators who had good relations with the Military Strategist school. At one moment, they seemed to smile at him, but their minds were icy cold.

Xu Bai didn’t care much about these condescending looks, nor could he do anything about them. He simply followed the others in looking at that young Hidden Officer—calm and composed, yet not the arrogant, unrestrained madman style he had imagined, but rather a gentle, jade-like elegance.

In Xu Bai’s original imagination, someone who could stand firm at the Sword Qi Great Wall and serve as a Hidden Officer as an outsider had to be an extremely sharp-edged young pure martial artist walking the martial path with no shortcuts.

Of course, a man cannot be judged by his appearance. It was still too early to tell the Hidden Officer’s true disposition.

Beside the Ritual Sage stood the Second Sage and the old scholar.

But by now, the old scholar was still not yet the Literary Sage.

The old scholar looked at his closed-door disciple and spoke with heart-mind words: “Don’t be timid, don’t be stage-frightened. It’s only natural, perfectly justified!”

The old scholar then worried, “But if so, won’t it make many old immortals with narrow minds feel uncomfortable? Such an arrangement isn’t appropriate, is it?”

This time, the Second Sage didn’t think the old scholar was taking advantage and pretending to be humble.

The sea of learning has no bounds, but you must ask about cultivation, not about harvest. Some people in the cultivation world, despite their high realms, didn’t necessarily have profound heart cultivation. They still only liked to see harvests, not cultivation.

These people, looking at that unfamiliar young man who seemed to have sprung from nowhere—how and why he became the Hidden Officer on the Sword Qi Great Wall, that after merging with the Sword Qi Great Wall he nearly died once, that he had to face the schemes of Jiazi Tent and Wenhai Zhou Mi, that he confronted the Sword Dragon Lord every day—they would all pretend not to see. And every act of turning a blind eye and closing their ears was one of the ten thousand dangers of mountain cultivation; when encountered, it could become a perilous accident.

The Ritual Sage said indifferently, “If they like feeling uncomfortable, let them feel uncomfortable. If anyone thinks it’s inappropriate, tell them to come find me.”

The Second Sage smiled and nodded, “Chen Ping’an’s natural sense of entitlement is not youthful arrogance, but for the sake of all the fallen sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall, he, as the Hidden Officer, must stand upright in this place. If old immortals don’t understand this principle and find it objectionable, then they can just bear it. If anyone fails to hide their traces today, Literary Sage, you keep the accounts. Later, send someone to settle the scores. This time, I won’t stop you.”

After Chen Ping’an became the Hidden Officer, on Daoxuan Mountain, he once found a great demon at the Ascension stage that had been deeply hidden in Haoran World. In collaboration with Chen Chun’an, he killed it on a sea ferry, yet the young man didn’t claim the credit.

Later, on his way back home, passing through Tongye Continent, he discovered a “bookworm” book seal of Zhou Mi’s and immediately had it sent to the Confucian Temple.

He was mature and cautious in his dealings, and his actions were strictly within the rules.

Therefore, even though Chen Ping’an came from the Literary Saint lineage, the Second Sage still appreciated this young man.

He was not as deviant as the Embroidered Tiger Cui Chan, who walked alone; not like Zuo You, who “stood alone, only using his sword to reason”; not like Liu Shiliu, who was “a lone cloud and wild crane, letting heaven go where it will.”

In short, the Literary Saint’s closed-door disciple was very willing to patiently reason with people.

A tavern keeper willing to tell landscape stories to children in the streets and alleys of the Sword Qi Great Wall. A scholar willing to speak a few impartial, practical words for Haoran World, without worrying about being rejected by the sword cultivators—though it was a thankless task.

Actually, this was a very minor matter that Chen Ping’an himself hadn’t given much thought to, but on the side of the Confucian Temple’s three grand academies and seventy-two colleges, it earned Chen Ping’an a great deal of goodwill.

Almost all the college headmasters across the nine continents of Haoran had heard of this. Many sages had nodded and smiled knowingly.

He had never once visited the Confucian Sage who guarded the celestial curtain. Even while in a foreign land, he had never spoken a single word of resentment against the Second Sage lineage, not even on the Sword Qi Great Wall’s notoriously unfettered drinking tables.

On the journey of life, it seemed that every word and deed would sprout, bloom, and bear fruit—some short, some long, some withered in a year, some small, some large, some in clusters of flowers, some in forests of lush trees.

The old scholar nodded vigorously, “Good, very good.”

It seemed the Second Sage was quite angry.

The old scholar knew half the reason was due to the circumstances of Pure Confucian Chen Chun’an.

As for the Ritual Sage, this time, in the earlier internal Confucian Temple deliberations, he had shown an unusual “strictness.” For example, regarding the selection of successors for the seventy-two college headmasters, it was almost entirely decided by the Ritual Sage alone. From the Second Sage to the old scholar, and then to the three Confucian Temple leaders and old-timers like Fusheng, they all could only listen and follow procedure. Not only that, but several other matters that were to be brought to this Confucian Temple deliberation had also had their rules set by the Ritual Sage in advance. On the side of the Confucian Temple sages and college headmasters, there would be no objections today—not even a single question.

Unfortunately, the people currently in the deliberation could not hear the conversation among the three.

Otherwise, they could have chewed on a great deal of scholarly aftertaste.

The old scholar suddenly said, “Actually, that child Yuan Pang is also quite good.”

The Second Sage remained silent.

The Ritual Sage said softly, “We can begin.”

The Second Sage nodded lightly and spoke, “The first matter: I will introduce the college headmasters, the academy libationers, and the directors of studies.”

He mentioned that in Tongye Continent, South Balsa Continent, Fuyao Continent, and Golden Armor Continent, all the college headmasters had died in battle, without exception. Additionally, many gentlemen, worthies, and college Confucian scholars had perished—their numbers were even greater.

Southern Creek Academy, Purple Sun Academy, Horizontal Canal Academy, Goose Lake Academy, Elephant Mountain Academy, Locust Hall Academy, Jiakang Academy, Luo Learning Academy, Mirror Lake Academy, Lianxi Academy, Viewlake Academy, Cliff Academy, Yufu Academy, Dafu Academy…

One by one, the college headmasters were named by the Second Sage and each saluted the assembly with a bow.

Among them was the new headmaster of Horizontal Canal Academy, Yuan Pang.

He was the youngest college headmaster in the history of the Confucian Temple.

The three grand academy libationers were still familiar faces, but among the directors of studies, there was Mao Xiaodong, formerly a vice-headmaster of Cliff Academy, who had transferred from the Literary Saint lineage to the Ritual Sage lineage.

When Mao Xiaodong bowed, he faced the old scholar directly.

The old scholar nodded and smiled.

A single seed of scholarship, blooming in Haoran—whether it was in one’s own garden didn’t matter. Looking back, it was still a beautiful scene.

Moreover, Mao Xiaodong’s innate temperament and scholarly approach were naturally more suited to the Ritual Sage lineage, so there was no need to cling to literary lineage boundaries.

Besides, if there was ever a quarrel in the Confucian Temple later, Mao Xiaodong was famously respectful to his teachers and never forgot his roots. He would be a strong ally and a fierce general.

No loss, a guaranteed profit.

This esoteric art, which could only be understood but not conveyed in words, was once again best mastered by the closed-door disciple.

That fool Zuo You, and that big oaf Jun Qian—in this regard, they were a hundred thousand miles behind their junior brother. The past couple of days, you two senior brothers wanted to teach our junior brother swordsmanship and fist techniques, right? Master I would sneak back to the Merit Forest every few days to take a peek. You guys are just using official revenge for personal grudges—how come you’re not teaching swordsmanship or fist techniques now? With your twisted little minds, you can’t even put together a plate of side dishes for drinks. Your junior brother is someone who has to attend the Confucian Temple deliberation! Such a handsome young man! Even if you took Cao Ci, Xu Bai, and Yuan Pang all together, they still couldn’t compare. And you leave him black and blue, limping around—is that proper?

After introducing the college headmasters, academy libationers, and directors of studies, the Second Sage said, “From today onward, scholars serving as Minister of Rites in the dynasties of the nine continents of Haoran must possess the status of college Confucian scholars.”

Among the ten great dynasties participating in the deliberation, such as the Lu clan emperor of Great Yuan in North Ju Luzhou, there were nine emperors and monarchs in total, plus Song Changjing.

The Lu clan emperor seemed to share the same feelings as the other eight monarchs: surprise, bewilderment, shock, and of course, an immediate subconscious weighing of pros and cons.

Song Changjing, however, remained oblivious, merely standing with arms crossed, eyes closed in concentration, breathing long and deep.

The Lu clan emperor’s gaze shifted slightly. The state preceptor, Yang Qingkong of the Chongxuan Office, immediately cautioned him with heart-mind words, “Your Majesty, just listen.”

In the Confucian Temple square.

There was complete silence, a solemn stillness.

Some were aloof and indifferent—such as the exalted mountain gods and lake lords whose domains were not limited to a single country’s territory, the Madam of Green Divine Mountain of the Bamboo Sea Grotto-Heaven, the Flower Lord of Hundred Flowers Blessed Land, and other grotto-heaven masters and blessed land owners. Together, their number reached twenty-six. These landscape deities, whether dominating one region or acting like semi-independent warlords, naturally had no objection.

Others were unwilling to speak first, as this was the first formal proposal of the Confucian Temple today. Whoever stepped forward to question it would likely attract trouble. For example, the sect masters closely connected to the mortal dynasties. Regardless of their usual mountaintop cultivation and their views of the mortal world, every sect master clearly understood one thing: In all cultivation under heaven, the foundation of any sect lies with the mortal dynasties and ordinary people—the source that flows upward to the cultivation world. To go up the mountain to cultivate the Dao and seek immortality, one needs future generations. The ancestral halls need direct disciples, and every family’s golden jade genealogy needs new names added on new pages. Within every sect and lineage, there are many peaks and factions; great cultivators also need disciples to pass down their respective Dharma lineages, ensuring the incense fire never dies out.

Especially those deeply rooted aristocratic families of a thousand years had the most thoughts and opinions on this matter. But none of them recklessly spoke up.

The Ritual Sage smiled slowly, “No need to be constrained. You may stand or sit as you wish. Ascension stage cultivators need not suppress their aura; martial artists need not restrain their momentum; sword cultivators and landscape deities are likewise.”

The deliberation site was the Confucian Temple square, but in reality, everyone was within the Ritual Sage’s Heaven and Earth domain.

Yu Xuan the Talismanic Immortal was the first to cast a spell and sit cross-legged, quietly removing his concealment technique. He wore a very loose purple Dao robe with a black-and-white yin-yang fish pattern on the back.

The gourd of wine hanging at his waist began to radiate brilliant starlight, as if it had refined an entire resplendent galaxy.

Fire Dragon True Person followed suit, sitting cross-legged in midair, hands folded on his abdomen, beginning to doze off, half asleep. The two fire dragons on his Dao robe’s sleeves began to slowly swim.

The current Great Heavenly Master of the Dragon Tiger Mountain Heavenly Master Mansion, carrying a peachwood sword rather than the immortal sword Ten Thousand Laws, also slowly sat down on a mat that appeared. Zhao Tianlai began to breathe rhythmically.

For some unknown reason, Guo Outing of Iron Tree Mountain, a great demon at the Ascension stage who appeared to have been seriously injured, also didn’t stand on ceremony. He directly summoned an ancient mirror to heal his wounds. Even though this mirror had been refined into a lifebound object by the great demon whose Dao name was Youming, it still appeared as large as a hill compared to its owner’s form.

Huai Yin of the Feixian Palace sat on a small couch.

Liu Tui, a great cultivator from Fuyao Continent with the face of a vulture-like youth, sat directly on the ground. Before him was a low table with an incense burner, emitting purple smoke.

Some who had initially planned to follow suit and be casual, upon seeing the scene with Guo Outing, mostly hesitated and chose to stand instead.

Because after Guo Outing summoned the famous “Demon-Reflecting Mirror” progenitor, the mirror was as large as a cushion, but Guo Outing had become as small as mustard seed.

It wasn’t that Guo Outing intentionally displayed any divine power to salute the Ritual Sage, nor did the Ritual Sage deliberately target this Ascension stage demon cultivator.

It was simply the Sage’s Heaven and Earth domain; the rules made it so.

Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City, hands behind his back, casually surveyed the figures on both sides. After looking over the various Daoist high masters with their unique Daoist phenomena, he turned to the Buddhist eminent monks.

Zheng Juzhong had the insight to see some unusual Daoist appearances and Buddhist treasures.

Apart from the monk Liaoran of Xuankong Temple, who held a leaf in one hand and stared at it, still pondering how to turn the leaf in his palm into a leaf on the tree.

There was also a monk beside whom a slender creek seemed to flow, like a river of time that had been cut off by Buddhist Dharma, winding around him. Three golden characters—Gu, Jian, and Yi—stood motionless. Behind the monk was a blurry manifestation of a Son of Heaven ruler of the mortal world.

Beside him, another monk had a manifestation behind him: a majestic general, holding a club in one hand and pressing a sword with the other. At his feet was a crouching lion.

Another monk, with head bowed and hands pressed together, had a manifestation behind him of an old farmer-like peasant, as if walking among field ridges, every step dense and intertwined.

There was also an aged, withered old monk. Because he had three questions of Buddhist Dharma in his heart, those words had manifested their Great Dao into three strings of prayer beads, like three textual passes. In the Buddhist forests under heaven, this was called the “Huanglong Three Passes.”

Dong Laofuzi, the Confucian Temple leader, slowly spoke up: “The second matter. The Literary Sage’s divine statue will be restored, and the Confucian Temple’s accompanying sacrificial positions remain unchanged.”

Zuo You, Liu Shiliu, and Chen Ping’an—the three direct disciples of this literary lineage—almost simultaneously saluted their master with bows.

The Ritual Sage, the Second Sage, the three Confucian Temple leaders, and all Confucian sages, along with all those participating in the deliberation, saluted the old scholar in various ways—some with clasped fists, some with pressed palms, some with heads bowed, some with bows.

The old scholar’s expression was solemn as he accepted this salute with composure.

To be honest, the old scholar had seen every kind of big occasion and weathered every kind of storm. He had won two of the Three Teachings debates, participated in countless Confucian Temple deliberations, lectured at countless academies and colleges. There was the “Third and Fourth Controversy,” when his divine statue was removed from the Confucian Temple, smashed completely, his disciples scattered to all sides. He had merged with the landscape of three continents, once tugged on the sleeve of the Ultimate Sage, argued heatedly with the Ritual Sage until both were red-faced, kicked down a mountain in the Central Plains, and stretched his neck toward the sky curtain, begging the Second Old Master to strike…

But perhaps because all three of his disciples were present today, the old man appeared especially solemn.

Finally, the old scholar returned the salute with a bow to the crowd.

Such an old scholar was not often seen.

Thinking back to those days when he was still the Literary Sage, his learning was profound, like the sun at high noon.

At that time, to sit down and debate with the old scholar practically meant thinking only about how to lose less.

A Liang chuckled, “Congratulations! The old scholar finally has an official leg to stand on again. From now on, when he quarrels with others at the Confucian Temple, I’ll have the confidence. With the old scholar and me working together, we’re invincible under heaven!”

As long as the old scholar was present, he was sure to take on a whole crowd single-handedly. When he, A Liang, caused trouble, he could just pull up a chair and watch the show.

However, on the Sword Qi Great Wall back then, a sword cultivator had also written a similar line on an amulet: “A Liang and I join forces; we can cut down an Ascension stage great demon.”

Another sword cultivator had left a heartfelt remark: “If A Liang ever reaches the fourteenth stage, he will definitely merge with his face.”

Then, another sword cultivator, who didn’t dare sign his name, emboldened by alcohol and taking advantage of the Second Boss not being at the tavern to scrounge a drink, stealthily added another amulet, writing: “Bullshit! This fight for the Great Dao—that bastard can’t compete with the Second Boss.”

Zuo You said coldly, “Be serious.”

A Liang complained, “Where else can you find a serious person like me? Oh, only when you think about me paying the bill when drinking, but when it comes to a verbal brawl, you don’t let me have any share. How did I get my reputation for being a slightly flawed jewel? Isn’t it just because of a little wine debt?”

Zuo You fell silent, too lazy to waste words with him.

A Liang leaned back, looking at Lu Zhi. Those old bachelors and little brats on the Sword Qi Great Wall were all blockheads—they didn’t realize that the true beauty of Sister Lu Zhi could only be appreciated from behind.

Lu Zhi, still with eyes closed, said, “Looking for a beheading?”

A Liang withdrew his gaze, shook the collar of his Confucian robe. Look, just by changing his clothes, Sister Lu Zhi dared not even glance at him anymore.

Qi Tingji smiled, “The Second Sage is about to speak on the third matter.”

A Liang immediately became serious and stopped joking.

Sure enough, the Second Sage began the third matter.

It concerned the reconstruction of South Balsa Continent, Fuyao Continent, Golden Armor Continent, and Tongye Continent.

Because it involved too many details, a fairly thick booklet appeared before each deliberation participant.

As for why Vase Bottle Continent was not mentioned, that was worth pondering.

Thus, for a time, many gazes turned to Song Changjing, Heavenly Lord Qi Zhen, and the head of the Jiang family of Yunlin–these three could be considered the Vase Bottle Continent representatives at this Confucian Temple deliberation.

As for that young Hidden Officer, he was obviously not included.

While everyone was flipping through the booklet, the Second Sage reminded them, “Feel free to speak your minds.”

Han Laofuzi, the Confucian Temple’s deputy leader, said, “If you have questions, I can explain them in detail.”

Liu Jubao, the God of Wealth of Aiai Continent, read with particular care.

On Tongye Continent alone, the Liu family had invested a considerable amount of immortal money. Besides, the Song family of Great Li in Vase Bottle Continent, North Ju Luzhou, and Yu Panshui of Xuanmi Dynasty—everyone had a share.

So even Song Changjing began flipping through the booklet page by page, missing no content.

The new emperors of the two great dynasties from Fuyao and Golden Armor Continents dared not skip a single word.

Because he was the final overseer of Fuyao Continent, Zheng Juzhong also patiently read through the booklet, then closed it and began calculating gains and losses.

If Zheng Juzhong was the fastest to finish reading the booklet, then Chen Ping’an was the slowest, without a doubt.

Actually, the most critical point of this booklet was the degree of constraint that certain specific continental powers—like White Emperor City, the Liu family of Aiai Continent—had over the immortal sect puppets they supported in these four continents, as well as the specific boundary lines of the rules set by the Confucian Temple. In fact, any ambiguous boundary area would trigger many mountain disputes. If the Confucian Temple didn’t address this today, then all rules would remain as before—simple enough. Mountain intrigues were a craft accumulated over thousands of years; any sect with a long heritage was familiar with it, each more adept than the last.

As for the booklet compiled by the Confucian Temple, it proposed a compensation plan for the reconstruction of the landscape. It seemed to have clear clauses, but it was not very meaningful because it only gave a general direction. When it came down to actual implementation, the parties directly interacting would be the mountain sects and the mortal dynasties.

Zheng Juzhong, Liu Jubao, and Yu Panshui all had questions.

Liu Tui of Fuyao Continent, once a great cultivator at the Ascension stage, had his own sect controlling three dynasties, with more than twenty vassal kingdoms.

The great sword immortal Bai Shang from North Ju Luzhou was trying to establish a branch sect in Tongye Continent. The Great Yuan Dynasty was secretly tilting its manpower and resources toward Tongye Continent. The Lu clan emperor was not suitable to speak, but State Preceptor Yang Qingkong had to voice their concerns.

Song Changjing, whose Great Li Dynasty still occupied half of Vase Bottle Continent, was no exception.

One by one, the questions were answered by Han Laofuzi. Some answers were clearly unsatisfactory. But apart from the White Emperor City lord and Song Changjing, no one else dared to “bargain” face-to-face with the Confucian Temple deputy leader.

As for Wei Ying, the sect master of the Jade Gui Sect, he remained silent throughout. Instead, the relatively unrelated Martial Saint Wu Shu actively stood on the opposite side of those large sects and major powers, hoping the Confucian Temple would set stricter rules.

Chen Ping’an had already finished reading the booklet once, but he started flipping through it again.

For this young man, if he only had a rough impression of the “Hidden Officer,” a mountaintop cultivator might think Chen Ping’an was just posturing, pretending to be serious. But every sword cultivator from the Summer Resort Palace lineage knew very well that one of the Hidden Officer’s favorite and most skilled tasks was to read a book from thick to thin. The Summer Resort Palace was piled high with secret records and archives; Chen Ping’an had read almost every single one, and he would even condense them into small booklets, then reduce a booklet into a few or dozens of sticky notes, so that the Hidden Officer lineage sword cultivators could search them fastest.

Besides flipping through the booklet, Chen Ping’an was also carefully observing those who spoke.

Perhaps among them, one or even several might be like Han Yushu of Wan Yao Sect—a fellow traveler.

And maybe even Tian Wan of Zhengyang Mountain was cut from the same cloth.

He just didn’t know whether Cui Dongshan and Chief Zhou had succeeded.

The third matter took a great deal of time.

Fortunately, apart from the nine emperors, everyone at today’s Confucian Temple deliberation was a mountaintop cultivator. And even those mortal monarchs, like the young emperor of Xuanmi Dynasty, had fairly tough physiques, much stronger than ordinary people.

More and more people began to speak. One great clan head known as “Zhuolu Songzi,” the hereditary Marquis Shen of Maoling from Fufeng, the Central Plains’ Xuanyu Fan clan, and many others joined the discussion.

Some items with significant disagreements were temporarily shelved.

Lu Zhi occasionally opened her eyes twice, finding it interesting that some old cultivators, who were skilled in cultivation but not in speech, had slightly trembling voices when they spoke.

As for a middle-aged emperor whose face turned red, whose voice trembled more noticeably, whose hands were clenched and palms sweaty, Lu Zhi found that less amusing.

Chen Ping’an, meanwhile, continued flipping through the booklet, ears pricked, occasionally looking up to observe the speaker. He covertly divided his attention, memorizing everyone’s words, clothing, accents, expressions, gazes, and any habitual micro-movements.

Suddenly, Qi Tingji spoke through heart-mind with a smile: “If you have time, come visit the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect.”

Chen Ping’an nodded in reply: “No problem. After the deliberation ends, I might need to go to North Ju Luzhou immediately. Next time I come to tour the Central Plains Divine Continent, I’ll go to South Balsa Continent first.”

Qi Tingji said, “It’s settled.”

In fact, in Chen Ping’an’s view, Falling Mountain and the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect could even form an alliance—it would benefit both sides.

As long as Qi Tingji gave up his coveting of the fifth world’s Ascension City and didn’t obstruct “Chen Xi” from becoming city lord, everything would be fine.

If Qi Tingji had violated his oath to the old great sword immortal and gone to the fifth world, he would have been indisputably the number one man under heaven. Absorbing that destiny would have triggered a series of unforeseen events. This ambitious old sword immortal would have turned Ascension City into a stepping stone, a path to the fourteenth stage, and given his domineering nature and sword Dao foundations, he would surely have ascended smoothly. Fortunately, regardless of his reasons, Qi Tingji had ultimately not done so.

As for the young Hidden Officer’s private motives, both local and foreign sword immortals were well aware of them.

After all, Chen Ping’an had paid for the result with his own life. Ning Yao had not let him or Ascension City down. In the fifth world, she had broken through one stage after another—Jade Capital, Transcendent Immortal, Ascension—like splitting bamboo.

A sword immortal who was already at the Ascension stage would naturally attract hostility from all other forces if she violated Confucian Temple rules and trespassed into a new world, relying on her superior cultivation.

Moreover, the Azure Mirror World and the Western Buddhist Kingdom would surely have objections. Then the entire world would be thrown into chaos. The struggle for control over Ascension City would no longer be legitimate.

Even within Ascension City, Chen Xi and Qi Tingji, and Ning Yao with the entire Hidden Officer lineage against Qi Tingji, would be deeply divided.

Nevertheless, the fact that Qi Tingji was willing to go against his nature and choose to establish a sect in Haoran World showed tremendous fortitude.

Chen Ping’an suddenly said, “Regarding the wandering sword immortals currently in the Barren Wilderness World, Falling Mountain won’t compete with the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect for them. This is the respect you deserve, Senior. I, as a junior, cannot compete for it either.”

Those wandering sword immortals who had voluntarily given up their concealment identities, having been secretly instructed by the old great sword immortal not to join the battlefield, might not all be willing to come to this despised Haoran World. After the great war, many sword immortals might have already returned to the Barren Wilderness World. But there would certainly be a small number who wouldn’t mind being nominal guest elders at the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect or Falling Mountain. Chen Ping’an guessed that Qi Tingji had already contacted them secretly and was just waiting for the right opportunity to reveal it all.

Thus, Chen Ping’an’s words were both a pleasantry and a heartfelt statement.

Because the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect in South Balsa Continent was like the first branch sect established in Haoran, just as the Sword Qi Great Wall had been back then.

Qi Tingji smiled knowingly, “If anyone is willing to go to Falling Mountain to settle down, whether as an honored guest elder or a nominal elder, I’d be happy to see it. After all, fatty water doesn’t flow into outsiders’ fields—we’re half a family anyway.”

This was called reciprocity.

As Chen Ping’an had expected, Qi Tingji had indeed contacted that group of sword immortals earlier. Three of them were willing to serve as nominal elders of the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect. Two others, however, were more interested in Falling Mountain, but since they hadn’t heard definite news of the young Hidden Officer’s return, they hadn’t set out yet.

After today’s heart-to-heart with the young Hidden Officer, Qi Tingji would return to South Balsa Continent and secretly send a flying sword message to those two sword immortals.

As for why he didn’t tell Chen Ping’an immediately—that would have been too obvious.

Grudges are grudges, schemes are schemes.

But Qi Tingji and Chen Ping’an were both sword cultivators, sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Just as Qi Tingji had personally told Lu Zhi, his magnanimity was not so small as to make things difficult for Mr. Lu.

In fact, Chen Ping’an had already shown a very positive trend toward alliance by persuading Shao Yunyan of Spring Pennant Studio to become a nominal elder of the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect.

Having Shao Yunyan as a nominal elder was far-reaching, not because the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect urgently needed a Jade Capital stage sword immortal as a nominal elder, but because Shao Yunyan had operated the Spring Pennant Studio at Daoxuan Mountain for many years, interacting with many visitors. Plus, the trade of multiple sword-nurturing gourds from that string of gourd vines had given him considerable goodwill with the mountaintop sects of Haoran. Originally, when Shao Yunyan went to Falling Mountain, Qi Tingji had mentally prepared himself for the possibility that this sword immortal would never return, with only Mrs. Tuoyan coming back to the sect. Unexpectedly, Chen Ping’an gave him a pleasant surprise: Shao Yunyan privately agreed to serve as the sect’s treasurer for a hundred years, until Qi Tingji found a suitable replacement.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Falling Mountain’s branch sect is to be located in Tongye Continent. Are you, Senior, planning to locate yours in the Central Plains Divine Continent or Aiai Continent?”

Qi Tingji replied, “It’s a dilemma. First, the sect’s personnel are too few. Second, if the main sect and branch sect follow too quickly, it’s easy to invite jealousy. These two continents are quite different from the situation in your Tongye Continent when you chose it.”

Their current casual chat and planning already involved foundations for the next hundred or thousand years.

Chen Ping’an hesitated.

Qi Tingji smiled, “Hidden Officer, speak your mind directly.”

Chen Ping’an frankly said, “If you choose Aiai Continent for the branch sect, things will go smoothly. But then the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect will find it very difficult to become the number one sword sect in Haoran World.”

Lu Zhi, who had been silent, suddenly opened her eyes and said, “Actually, the branch sect should be in Fuyao Continent.”

Qi Tingji was a bit helpless.

Mr. Lu, you, as the chief honored guest, seem to be leaning outward a bit.

Lu Zhi asked, puzzled, “Can’t I say that?”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “If you ask like that, even if I couldn’t say it, I have to now.”

Qi Tingji nodded and smiled, “Indeed.”

Lu Zhi said, “Then you two keep chatting. I’ll definitely stay quiet.”

The next matter to be discussed could be either big or small.

How to treat the native demons of Haoran World, and how to hunt down those demons that hadn’t managed to retreat to the Barren Wilderness World and were hiding in the vast seas and several continents.

In an instant.

The five sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall once again became the focus of attention. Guo Outing of Iron Tree Mountain also attracted many meaningful glances.

In the end, from the Sword Qi Great Wall side, only Qi Tingji spoke. He didn’t say anything grand or heroic, only that the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect’s geographical location was near the sea, so he—along with Chief Honored Guest Mr. Lu, Guest Elder Sword Immortal Shao Yunyan, and the eighteen direct sword cultivators newly accepted by the sect in the past few years—were all willing to go out to sea to hunt down hidden demons.

As he spoke, Qi Tingji’s tone was calm, but it still gave off a sense of sharp sword intent and murderous aura.

Qi Tingji’s swordsmanship was superb; he might not be able to kill a Jade Capital stage cultivator from the Central Plains, but when it came to killing demons, this old sword immortal with a young and handsome face showed no mercy.

The young Hidden Officer remained silent.

Chen Chunhua, the new head of the Chen family of Pure Confucianism, seconded Qi Tingji’s proposal.

Among the martial arts grandmasters, Zhang Tiaoxia, Wang Fusu, and Wu Shu all expressed willingness to obey the Confucian Temple’s orders and go out to sea to kill demons.

Liu Tui promised the Confucian Temple that within ten years, he would put his cultivation on hold and ensure that not a single demon of the Earth Immortal stage from outside remained in Fuyao Continent.

Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City remained silent after hearing this, his smile warm and mild.

Because there was a hidden edge in Liu Tui’s words, full of murderous intent. The reason was simple: almost all the remaining demon cultivators of the upper five ranks in Fuyao Continent were now “beloved generals” under the White Emperor City lord’s command—demons killing demons.

Wei Ying, the sect master of the Jade Gui Sect and a Transcendent Immortal stage sword immortal, also promised that the southern half of Tongye Continent, from the Great Spring Dynasty onward, would be his sect’s training ground, where disciples would descend one after another for ten to thirty years, striving to sweep away the remaining demon cultivators in one go.

Huai Yin said that the cultivators of Feixian Palace were willing to cross continents to go to South Balsa Continent.

Great Heavenly Master Zhao Tianlai of Dragon Tiger Mountain only said one sentence: he would personally descend the mountain and travel the nine continents of Haoran for sixty years.

The head of the Yin-Yang school’s Lu family suddenly proposed that, aside from these, more opportunities for training should be given to young people, without confining them to one continent or place. For example, let a Confucian gentleman from a college lead a team, plus a sword cultivator with outstanding killing power, a pure martial artist at the seventh or eighth stage, and two or three Qi refiners from various philosophical schools. The Confucian Temple would be responsible for dividing the nine continents of Haoran into detailed sections as patrol territories. In urgent situations, the Confucian gentleman would have the authority to mobilize local landscape deities and dynasty armies.

As soon as this was said, the atmosphere in the Confucian Temple square immediately froze.

The old scholar chuckled.

This wasn’t the Confucian Temple’s intention.

Yu Xuan narrowed his eyes and stroked his beard.

Fire Dragon True Person whispered to Yu Xuan via heart-mind, “Is he trying to get his Lu family members a chance to be deputy team leaders?”

Yu Xuan shook his head slightly, “He shouldn’t have that nerve.”

Fire Dragon True Person laughed, “Old Yu, you’re older and have higher seniority. Don’t you have a stance on this demon-killing matter? If I were the Ultimate Sage, I’d take back that galaxy tomorrow and let you merge with a damn hammer.”

Yu Xuan rolled his eyes, “You’ve been holed up in North Ju Luzhou—what would you know? Before the Confucian Temple deliberation, I had already issued several dharma decrees, sending several hundred of my disciples and grand-disciples to swarm into Golden Armor Continent.”

Fire Dragon True Person felt a bit stung, sighing, “An old hen that can lay eggs—that’s really something. A whole nest of them, noisy and impressive. They’ve already won in momentum.”

In fact, the Prostrate Peak lineage was in an awkward position. What hidden demons were there in North Ju Luzhou? As for Vase Bottle Continent, it simply wasn’t Prostrate Peak’s turn. And Tongye Continent—forget it. How many forces from other continents had already infiltrated it? Thirty? Fifty? Add all the wandering wild cultivators seeking opportunities, and they had swarmed into the broken sieve that was Tongye Continent even more densely than Yu Xuan’s lineage of talisman Daoists—killing demons, looting treasures, earning merits and money. Everyone felt that place, which had been thoroughly beaten by the Barren Wilderness World, was littered with immortal coins everywhere. In fact, this view wasn’t completely misguided. With everything in ruins and every place desperate for talent, even if you just grabbed the position of an honored guest elder for a “restoration” dynasty or one of its vassals, it wouldn’t hinder your treasure-hunting and wealth-gathering.

The Jade Gui Sect was severely damaged, and the Tongye Sect was half-dead, leaving countless vacancies across the continent, both in the mountains and below.

Chen Ping’an merely glanced from afar at the speaker.

That Lu family head had a taiji diagram floating beneath his feet, along with layers upon layers of dense seal script.

In fact, after the Lu family head of the Yin-Yang school made this proposal, because one of the key points was “young cultivators,” the Hidden Officer Chen Ping’an, Cao Ci, Yuan Pang, and Xu Bai once again became the focus of attention.

Someone suddenly realized that these youngest prodigies hadn’t said a single word.

What’s this—had they all become mute?

Huai Yin broke the silence and mentioned a key point that all previous speakers had deliberately avoided.

How should Haoran World treat its native demons? Just follow the established rules. Whatever the Confucian Temple had done before, it would continue to do so.

Dong Laofuzi suddenly said, “I think that’s not enough.”

Huai Yin smiled and said no more.

Was it that the old Confucian Temple rules were insufficient, or that they were not strict enough, or had they been too lenient in the past?

It was indeed hard to pin down.

Moreover, that so-called Confucian Temple rule had actually been established by the Ritual Sage himself.

So no one dared to add superfluous comments.

Guo Outing of Iron Tree Mountain, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke words that commanded respect, very boldly: “May I ask, Mr. Dong, what does ‘not enough’ mean?”

Dong Laofuzi countered heavily, “May I ask, Mountain Lord Guo, what do you think ‘not enough’ means?”

Everyone sensed the anomaly.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong!

According to the Confucian Temple’s usual style, for the Ascension stage demon Guo Outing to say such words, whether reasonable or not, was understandable. Moreover, Iron Tree Mountain had merits and no faults in the war. Although its contributions didn’t quite match its sect’s power, the Confucian Temple sages, who strictly followed the rules set by the Ritual Sage, would not normally be so aggressive.

Even Lu Zhi had to use heart-mind to ask the two beside her, “What’s going on?”

Chen Ping’an said nothing.

Qi Tingji explained, “The deliberation atmosphere is too lukewarm; there aren’t many sincere words. The Confucian Temple side is not satisfied.”

Yuan Pang turned sideways, bowed to the Ritual Sage, and then spoke, “It’s not that the Confucian Temple’s restrictions on native demons are too loose, but that various sects’ restrictions on demon cultivators are too harsh.”

Uproar.

Chen Ping’an had already put away the booklet, slipping it into his sleeve. He looked up at that young Confucian scholar, the future headmaster of Horizontal Canal Academy—truly courageous.

They had actually met before, in the entry city of the night ferry, but neither had recognized the other at the time.

Yuan Pang’s second sentence was even more shocking: “I suggest that, apart from the Central Plains Divine Continent, the other eight continents of Haoran each establish a sect similar to Iron Tree Mountain, so that native demon cultivators of each continent can have a place to stand.”

Guo Outing was greatly surprised.

The Flower Lord of Hundred Flowers Blessed Land looked with shining eyes at that young headmaster.

The Madam of Green Divine Mountain also nodded imperceptibly in approval.

The Second Sage smiled slightly.

What Yuan Pang said hadn’t been cleared with the Confucian Temple side.

The old scholar turned to the Second Sage and smiled, “See? I was right—he’s a good child.”

The Second Sage didn’t respond.

Qi Tingji narrowed his eyes.

One of the honored guests of the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect, Mrs. Tuoyan from the old Plum Garden at Daoxuan Mountain, was a cultivator of the upper five ranks, originally a spirit being.

Wei Ying of the Jade Gui Sect was also stirred. That Madam Huansha could actually return to Tongye Continent from the Dragon Tiger Mountain Heavenly Master Mansion.

Madame Dan Dan of Lucer Pit also had gleaming eyes. She suddenly found Yuan Pang extremely agreeable. Because under her command, besides the “Fish-catching Immortal,” a former official of Lucer Pit, and those several Lone Riders of the South Sea, there was also a demon cultivator of the upper five ranks who now had to keep his head down. Since she now held a high position, she didn’t really need such a lackey anymore; keeping him around was meaningless. Even if she had to sever the contract and let him establish his own sect, as a sect master, it would bring her face when people talked about it.

Then she could have that guy give her an honorary title of Supreme Grandmaster…

She suddenly caught a gaze—it was Fire Dragon True Person! She immediately restrained her expression, but inwardly cursed: If you have the ability, go find one yourself. Your Prostrate Peak Daoists like to slay demons—now you’re dumbfounded, aren’t you?

Fire Dragon True Person laughed via heart-mind, “Dumbfounded about what?”

Madame Dan Dan’s face stiffened. She tentatively thought in her heart, “Elder Fire Dragon True Person, have you learned mind-reading now?”

Fire Dragon True Person smiled, “My Dao arts are shallow; how could I know mind-reading?”

Madame Dan Dan’s face fell. Oh no. It seemed that as soon as the Confucian Temple deliberation ended, she would have to run away.

Fire Dragon True Person chuckled again, “With such a high official hat and such a spacious office, where can you run?”

Madame Dan Dan wanted to die.

Between two cultivators of the same stage, what nonsense mind-reading was there? What was going on?!

The Great Heavenly Master of Dragon Tiger Mountain helped rescue her, speaking softly, “Stop scaring Madame Dan Dan.”

Madame Dan Dan breathed a sigh of relief, then suddenly noticed the mockery in Fire Dragon True Person’s eyes. She realized belatedly—mind-reading, and now another Great Heavenly Master?

Yu Xuan said seriously to comfort her, “Great Heavenly Master Zhao has high virtue and heavy prestige. Even if he knew mind-reading, he wouldn’t use it on you.”

Madame Dan Dan stood dumbfounded.

If possible, she wanted to beg the Ritual Sage to let her leave and not participate in the deliberation anymore.

The Painting Sage, seated on the ground, had already prepared his brush, ink, paper, and inkstone on a low table. He had painted two scrolls: one of the Ritual Sage, one of the old scholar restored to the Literary Sage status, and one long scroll of the seventy-two college sages. But after Yuan Pang’s words, the old man smiled again and painted another scroll.

Chen Ping’an knew the power of Yuan Pang’s words.

This was the skillful use of the power of rules, applied so subtly that it was like leveraging celestial time, earthly terrain, and human harmony to create a small world of its own.

It was a pity that Gu Can wasn’t here; he would surely benefit greatly.

If it succeeded, the Confucian Temple would handle the specific layout, and Yuan Pang would have the merit of making the proposal.

Even if it failed—for someone like Qi Tingji, Madame Dan Dan of Lucer Pit, the Flower Lord of Hundred Flowers Blessed Land—these mountaintop cultivators would at least owe Yuan Pang a favor.

As for other sect masters, would they really feel malice toward Yuan Pang? There might be a few, but most great cultivators would, from this moment on, regard Yuan Pang as a college headmaster, not just a direct disciple of the Second Sage lineage.

If Yuan Pang could truly create eight additional sects for demon cultivators out of thin air across the eight continents of Haoran…

Almost all the native demons of Haoran World would have to thank Yuan Pang sincerely.

Today, Yuan Pang might decide the fate of an entire world’s demons with just his words. Then, at the next Confucian Temple deliberation, college headmaster Yuan Pang, or future Director of Studies Yuan, or Grand Libationer Yuan, could similarly decide the fate of Iron Tree Mountain and an Ascension stage great demon with just a few words. And as for Guo Outing, when it came to combat skills, not just one Yuan Pang, but a pile of Yuan Pangs would not be enough for this Youming Daoist to kill.

Fists are reason.

But reason is also fists.

One is visible and may be more satisfying; the other saves and kills people invisibly.

So both are indispensable.

A Liang said via heart-mind, smiling, “Chen Ping’an, don’t forget that Mr. Bai.”

Chen Ping’an nodded.

In the end, on the matter of establishing sects across the eight continents, the Confucian Temple’s Dong Laofuzi concluded with the words “to be discussed later.”

The fifth matter was to discuss the name of the fifth world and the corresponding strategy of Haoran World after the next grand gate opening.

Chen Ping’an tucked his hands into his sleeves and took a deep breath.

Qi Tingji suddenly asked the three sword cultivators beside him, “That brand-new world was opened at great cost by the Confucian school. Why is the Confucian Temple willing to accept cultivators from the other two worlds?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. This was indeed a great mystery.

Senior Brother Zuo You was even more silent than Chen Ping’an.

A Liang shrugged, “Probably only the three teaching founders know.”

A Liang thought for a moment and added, “Maybe the Ritual Sage and that grinning Old Third Lu also guessed it.”

The final name given by the Confucian Temple to the fifth world was one that could not be called good or bad.

Five-Colored World.

Belated, delayed for many years, but at last, it was settled.

Chen Ping’an narrowed his eyes and began to quickly sift through his memory.

The heavens descending five colors, the human world obtaining peace. “Articles like five-colored coral hooks, lungs and bowels and liver and gall all classics and histories.” Both were poetic sayings.

“Five colors transform into a golden world.” That was a Buddhist saying.

“Spiritual essence, nine glories, five colors spread; mixed into an immortal altar, one solidified pearl.” That was a Daoist saying.

There was also a line: “Five-colored light permeates the world; mountains and rivers for ten thousand miles, vast and unobstructed.”

Those mountaintop cultivators skilled in deduction and evolution techniques all, without exception, began to perform mental calculations.

A Liang, somewhat bored, said, “Zuo You, how about we have a little drink? You go first—otherwise, I’m too scared.”

Zuo You said, “If you dare to take out two jugs of wine, I’ll drink.”

A Liang chuckled. Just as he was about to move, the motion of taking out the wine turned into a pat on his sleeve.

Because a voice rang in his heart-mind lake: “How about inviting the Ritual Sage, me, and the Literary Sage for a drink?”

A Liang gave a dry laugh and said nothing.

Regarding the next reopening of the grand gate to the Five-Colored World, the ancestral masters of the various philosophical schools had different suggestions.

Since this matter concerned the fortune of the entire Haoran World, it had the most participants in the deliberation.

A Liang sighed, knowing why those ancestral masters were so eager to offer suggestions. Because soon there would be a topic—or rather, not even a topic, but a decision already made by the Confucian Temple. These old fellows were doing their best and leaving the rest to fate. For instance, the Merchant school, Mr. Fan, was so confident because the Merchant school’s status would be elevated today. Similarly, the Medicine school, the Agriculture school, etc., had either contributed the most or suffered the greatest losses in the war. For example, Chen Ping’an’s home continent, Vase Bottle, had previously ignored the Medicine school Qi refiners, but now they were almost universally respected. Even a low-ranking Medicine school Qi refiner traveling on official roads would be greeted with a fist salute by the Great Li iron cavalry.

As for the Military Strategist school, its contributions were certainly great, but how much higher could it rise? The three teachings and one school had been the unchanging pattern for ten thousand years. Could the Military Strategist school establish a teaching of its own? Absolutely impossible.

Thus, it was Old Man Jiang and Old Man Wei—both accompanying sacrifices in the Martial Temple’s Ten Philosophers—who actually carried the most weight in this Confucian Temple deliberation.

However, the Military Strategist school’s status would remain unchanged, but tangible benefits would certainly not be lacking.

After all, the Military Strategist cultivators led by Old Man Jiang had tempers not much better than sword cultivators, and they were more numerous and louder by nature. And their contributions were indeed great.

Because the discussion of the Five-Colored World inevitably involved Ascension City and its first—and currently only—Ascension stage cultivator, Ning Yao.

Yet that young Hidden Officer still hadn’t spoken.

The old scholar felt both pain and comfort.

Ascension City didn’t need anyone to add superfluous glory. Maintaining the status quo was the best situation. As long as it followed the established strategy steadily, Ascension City would be the unshakable top dog in the Five-Colored World—far more impressive than the old scholar’s self-proclaimed top dog status in the Merit Forest. Therefore, Ascension City must not be impatient. As long as the three lineages of Hidden Officer, Punishment Officer, and Spring Treasury didn’t have internal strife, when the next gate opened, even if a fixed quota of upper-five-rank cultivators were allowed in, what of it? Could they shake Ascension City’s position? Did they think they were the heavenly tribulation of the Ascension stage, to be so arrogant?

Yu Xuan asked via heart-mind, “Brother Fire Dragon, is Chen Ping’an really that good-tempered? He’s been silent the whole time, not very heroic. I’ve been keeping an eye on the kid, and I’m starting to get drowsy.”

Fire Dragon True Person laughed, “Good-tempered? That’s called not throwing the hawk until you see the rabbit. Not heroic? If you have the guts, let that kid take a stroll through your blessed lands—if the heavens don’t drop three feet and the earth doesn’t sink one, I, this poor Daoist, will stop calling you Old Yu from now on and will respectfully address you as Ancestor Yu every time. How about that?”

Anyway, calling him Ancestor Yu a few times didn’t cost anything. Afterwards, he had already earned a potful of profits from Chen Ping’an, who had split the loot—solid immortal coins.

Yu Xuan reached out two fingers to twist his beard, as if considering whether to give it a try.

Money or no money—damn it, he had never been poor in his life. How annoying.

The sixth matter was to clearly demarcate the maritime territories of the four seas.

Another Confucian Temple conclusion, requiring no external discussion.

However, the Confucian Temple did not give a specific candidate for the Sea Lords of the four seas.

But it was believed that the Five Lakes Lords present would all fight for this. The five lakes were large, but ultimately not as vast and boundless as the four seas. Especially the four Guixu (Return to Void) were the best cultivation grounds for water gods and water immortals under heaven. Apart from the Five Lakes Lords, all great lake and river gods, as well as the lords and marquises of the great waterways, would likely be restless—whether to ascend to become lords of the four seas or to move up as lords of the great lakes, it was worth maneuvering for.

Next, the Confucian Temple offered four grotto-heavens and blessed lands, respectively to the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect of South Balsa Continent, Liu Tui’s Nine True Immortal Museum in Fuyao Continent, the Jade Gui Sect in Tongye Continent, and Old Dragon City in Vase Bottle Continent.

Wei Ying felt relieved.

In his heart-mind lake, congratulations poured in.

Wei Ying replied to them one by one, then silently stepped back, turned southeast, and bowed three times in the distance.

One bow to Xun Yuan, a second to Jiang Shangzhen, and a third to all the fallen cultivators of the Jade Gui Sect.

Then came the promotions and demotions of the various philosophical schools by the Confucian Temple.

The Ritual Sage stepped forward.

He would personally handle this matter.

This made many old ancestral masters who had been wanting to air their grievances immediately shut up.

One of them, Mr. Fan of the Merchant school, upon hearing the expected answer, still bowed respectfully to the Ritual Sage.

Though the Ritual Sage’s words were only accompanied by at most the “I accept the command” from each ancestral master, seemingly calm and unremarkable, in fact, there was an enormously stirring undercurrent.

The Ritual Sage stood in place. For some reason, he did not retract that step.

The Second Sage then said, “Effective immediately, the Landscape Gazette will be lifted from its ban. The official languages of each country in the nine continents of Haoran will remain as before, but the use of Great Elegant Language shall be mandatory. This will be included as part of the assessment of court officials and minor functionaries.”

These two matters were of no consequence—truly trivial.

But after the Second Sage finished speaking, everyone, without exception, held their breath and solemnly looked at the Ritual Sage, who had taken that single step forward.

Even all those seated rose to their feet.

Because the true grand finale of this Confucian Temple deliberation was yet to come.

How to deal with the Barren Wilderness World!

Compared to this colossal matter, something like how to treat native demons was utterly insignificant.

The Ritual Sage smiled, looking directly at the young Hidden Officer, who happened to be opposite him.

Nothing to say?

Not necessarily.

For many years, in that foreign land, the young man had sat at tables with others, drinking and laughing without restraint. But upon returning home, to have nothing to say—that was not reasonable.

In an instant, heaven and earth were transformed.

Originally standing in a great circle, all the sages and heroes of Haoran World were now arranged in a single line.

And in the distance, the misty mountains and waters slowly parted to