Chapter 802: Meeting an Old Gentleman

Chapter 802: Meeting an Old Gentleman

The bamboo forest was as dense as a canopy, with a few thatched huts scattered about.

At the entrance of one such hut stood Ma Quxian, the senior disciple of the female martial god of the Great Duan Dynasty.

The visitor was a man with a slender build, dressed in a long blue gown and cloth shoes, standing within the bamboo grove.

From two other huts, two women emerged. They looked young but were in fact considerably older in actual years. They were Ma Quxian's junior sisters—one hailed from the Yun Chuang Dou Clan, a top-tier noble family of the Great Duan Dynasty, while the other was originally a wild cultivator from the mountains and marshes who had later converted to a pure martial artist, joined the military, and was eventually discovered for her martial talent by the national preceptor Pei Bei during a brutal battle. Pei Bei took her as a disciple, and her martial realm advanced at an astonishing pace, breaking through barriers like splitting bamboo.

Dou Fenxia, who wore her hair in a spiraling serpent bun, leaned against a green bamboo stalk, exuding a languid demeanor. Her figure was voluptuous, and she squinted with a smile, carefully sizing up the blue-robed man who had arrived with hostile intent.

Before stopping, she had bent down to pick up a few pebbles and several bamboo leaves from the ground. Now, leaning against the bamboo, she raised her toe and lightly tapped the earth, over and over.

Not far away, her junior sister Liao Qing'ai, having once dabbled in cultivation and entered the Cave Dwelling realm at an early age, still retained the appearance of a young girl despite being over fifty years old. Her waist was extremely slender, and a long knife hung at her side.

Among these three fellow disciples, Ma Quxian, the senior brother, had reached the pinnacle of the Mountain Summit realm.

Dou Fenxia and Liao Qing'ai were both pure martial artists stuck at the bottleneck of the Far Wandering realm.

All three had hopes of breaking into the Tenth Realm.

Thus, in the eyes of the outside world, if a single sect were to produce five Tenth Realm martial artists at once, the martial fortune of the Great Duan Dynasty would be unprecedented and unrivaled.

A clear wind passed through the bamboo grove. In the distance, the blue-robed figure's hair at his temples stirred slightly, his sleeves swayed gently, like ripples on clouds and water.

For a moment, it seemed as though he had entered a mysterious state of unity between heaven and man.

This ethereal scene was truly a feast for the eyes. Dou Fenxia's eyes sparkled. So this was the young Hidden Officer whose reputation she had long heard but whose face she had never seen. No wonder he had been able to fight her little junior brother three consecutive times on the city wall when they were both young.

Liao Qing'ai, however, wore a frosty expression and felt no goodwill toward this man. Couldn't he defeat the junior brother, so he came to pick a fight with the senior brother while Cao Ci was attending the Confucian Temple assembly? What kind of behavior was that?

Ma Quxian asked with a smile, "Chen Ping'an, are you sure you haven't mistaken me? When did my reputation become so great? If you're just looking for a sparring match to hone your martial arts, aren't there other senior experts elsewhere? It seems unnecessary to seek me out."

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "No mistake. I'm looking for you. Unless you're not Ma Quxian."

At present, around the Confucian Temple, the number of grandmasters who stood at the pinnacle of martial arts, whether openly or in secret, amounted to roughly a full hand's worth.

Zhang Tiaoxia of the Central Continent, Song Changjing of the Vase Bottle Continent, Wang Fusu of the Northern Jyoti Continent, Wu Shu of the Parasol Leaf Continent, Pei Axiang of the Snowy Continent... all were Tenth Realm martial artists who overshadowed their respective continents.

Although Ma Quxian was proud and aloof, he wasn't arrogant enough to believe he could yet rival these seniors.

In the earlier selection of the Ten Young Talents across the several worlds, the Hidden Officer before him, ranked eleventh, had secured a place by virtue of his dual identity as a Ninth Realm martial artist and a Nascent Soul sword cultivator.

However, Ma Quxian had learned from his master and little junior brother that Chen Ping'an had actually broken into the Tenth Realm on the Parasol Leaf Continent.

So now that Chen Ping'an had come to visit, looking to spar with him, it was essentially a Tenth Realm challenging a Ninth Realm. That was completely unreasonable. Even if he won, it wouldn't be honorable.

Still, if Chen Ping'an insisted on a spar, Ma Quxian wouldn't refuse.

Ma Quxian was a martial artist of the Great Duan Dynasty, but more importantly, he was a battlefield general who had risen through the ranks. He now commanded an elite border army of two hundred thousand men.

So Ma Quxian didn't bother overthinking. He asked with a smile, "So, how do you want to do this?"

"I'll give you two choices. If you lose the fight, first apologize and admit your mistake, then return an item."

Chen Ping'an said, "If you lose without losing your dignity, then your realm will drop, and you'll have no hope of the Tenth Realm. Later, I'll spar with Pei Bei and take back that thing."

Ma Quxian was utterly bewildered. What was all this? Apologize for what? Admit which mistake? Return what item? He had never had any dealings with Chen Ping'an.

Dou Fenxia smiled charmingly, gripped the pebbles in her hand, raised the back of her hand to her lips, and found the young Hidden Officer's aggressive attitude somewhat endearing.

Liao Qing'ai said coldly, "Chen Ping'an, this is not a place where you can act recklessly!"

Chen Ping'an ignored her, simply extending a palm toward Ma Quxian, signaling that he could strike first.

Gratitude and grudges were clear. Today's visit was only to spar with Ma Quxian alone. He would use the principles that Ma Quxian excelled in—martial arts—to repay him in kind.

It had nothing to do with the Great Duan Dynasty, with the master-disciple pair of Pei Bei and Cao Ci, or with the two female martial artists Dou and Liao. But if anyone insisted on meddling, Chen Ping'an would reason with them as well.

Liao Qing'ai suddenly turned her head to look in a certain direction, her face full of displeasure. How dare a mountain cultivator use the technique of 'Viewing the Mountains and Rivers from a Palm' from afar?

At the same time, Dou Fenxia cheerfully raised her hand. A bamboo leaf at her fingertip vanished in a flash, shooting off like a miniature flying sword, drawing a straight line. The emerald leaf finally halted at a certain point, as if a sword cultivator were making an inquiry.

Within the Ao Tou Mountain Immortal Mansion, a Celestial realm cultivator who had been using his divine ability had no choice but to withdraw his palm and retract his technique. In his mansion, the Celestial shook his head and smiled wryly. He was a royal retainer of the Great Duan Dynasty, and by both reason and sentiment, he had to protect Pei Bei's disciples to some extent. The three martial arts grandmasters at the bamboo hut might not yet fully understand the background of the challenger, but the Great Duan Celestial had witnessed the entire upheaval at the Yuanyang Islet and knew the power of the blue-robed sword immortal.

What made the Celestial smile bitterly was another reason: the manner of the blue-robed sword immortal standing in the bamboo grove felt strangely familiar. It bore a certain resemblance to the 'Cloud and Water Body' of the Celestial Yun Miao from the Nine True Immortal Lodge.

In truth, although this was Ma Quxian and the others' first meeting with Chen Ping'an, they were not entirely ignorant of the last Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

First, when Chen Ping'an was young, he had met Cao Ci, who was practicing martial arts in a thatched hut on the Sword Qi Great Wall, losing three times in three matches. Second, later, when Chen Ping'an accepted his first disciple—a young woman named Pei Qian—she had traveled alone to the Central Continent and visited the Great Duan Dynasty to seek out Cao Ci, announcing her name and challenging him to four sparring matches. The outcome was never in doubt, but Pei Bei had developed a considerable appreciation for this foreign female martial artist who shared her surname. During the time Pei Qian spent recovering at the National Preceptor's residence, the recipes for her daily medicinal meals were personally formulated by Pei Bei.

Dou Fenxia smiled seductively and asked, "Young Master Chen, could I make a proposal? Before you fight Ma Quxian to the death, would you allow me to exchange a move or two with you first? Not a formal spar."

Ma Quxian scolded, "Junior Sister Dou, don't be reckless!"

But Dou Fenxia had already moved sideways a few steps, swiftly throwing three pebbles, followed by several bamboo leaves flying like flying swords, all heading straight for the blue-robed figure.

Then she pressed her hand against the green bamboo beside her. The leaves rustled and fell, gathering in the air into a large mass of emerald green, as if she had summoned hundreds of flying swords.

Chen Ping'an flicked his left sleeve, casually scattering the pebbles and leaves that flew toward him. Then he raised his right hand, fingers together, and pointed gently. At Dou Fenxia's brow, a sword aura materialized, condensing into a mustard seed that pressed lightly against her forehead, like a visitor standing at the door without knocking. Dou Fenxia's fair face rippled slightly, and her coiled serpent hair bun loosened quietly.

She dared not make another move. The bamboo leaves, no longer supported by her martial intent and pure energy, scattered with a bang. Some fell onto her hair bun and shoulders. She stomped her foot, feigning a maiden's shyness, and lamented, "As expected, with a difference of two realms, there's no point in fighting."

Dou Fenxia clapped her hands. Where the pebbles and leaves had been shattered by Chen Ping'an's sleeve, flecks of golden light appeared. She clapped again, dispersing them.

Chen Ping'an understood in his heart. This Dou Fenxia was a 'sword substitute practitioner' who had deliberately revealed her identity. This martial lineage was itself pure martial arts, yet its members could naturally suppress other martial artists through secret techniques. When a martial artist of the same realm encountered her, it was like a qi refiner facing a sword cultivator—extremely troublesome, with very little chance of winning. However, practitioners of the sword substitute path were said to be mostly found in the Azure World, with very few traces in the Haoran World.

Unfortunately, even his student Cui Dongshan had little knowledge of this sword substitute technique, so Chen Ping'an had only learned a thin veneer of it—enough to scare people but utterly useless in a life-or-death struggle.

Dou Fenxia smiled brightly, still sizing up the calm blue-robed man. Meanwhile, she sent a sound transmission to Ma Quxian, warning him, "Senior Brother, I guessed right. Besides being a sword cultivator, Chen Ping'an is also a hidden sword substitute practitioner, a colleague of mine. In the upcoming spar, you must be careful. No amount of caution is too much."

Ma Quxian, however, was not particularly grateful. A spar was a matter of life and death, to be borne by oneself. If Dou Fenxia calculated against him like this, losing would be even more humiliating, for it wouldn't just be a matter of inferior skill. He replied to his junior sister, "Junior Sister, you needn't go to such trouble."

Dou Fenxia maintained her composure, seeming to exchange flirtatious glances with the young Hidden Officer, but her words to her senior brother were full of anger. "Anyone can see he's not a good person. A Tenth Realm martial artist is challenging you, and you're worried about face? You're the most delicate one among us men! If I were you, the three of us would gang up on him!"

Chen Ping'an smiled slightly.

He could roughly guess Dou Fenxia's thoughts, but he didn't call her out on it.

Ma Quxian began to walk forward slowly. Since the other party had come looking for him, as a Ninth Realm peak martial artist who was half a step from the summit, and the nominal senior disciple of his master, he had no reason to refuse the fight.

Pei Bei had originally intended to accept only one disciple in her life—Cao Ci.

But in recent years, after the great war ended, the emperor of the Great Duan Dynasty had made a request to Pei Bei. He said that as an old man who most enjoyed reading tales of the martial world, he was asking on behalf of his own 'martial world'—asking Pei Bei, who still looked very young, to grant a favor.

Let the martial world of the Great Duan Dynasty become more lively, with more experts. They needed the Four Grandmasters, the Ten Great Experts—everything.

Pei Bei had agreed.

Thus, Pei Bei now nominally had four direct disciples: the senior disciple Ma Quxian, Dou Fenxia, Liao Qing'ai, and the closed-door disciple Cao Ci.

Internally, except for Cao Ci, the other three were merely unregistered disciples of Pei Bei. Cao Ci remained the senior disciple and also the closed-door disciple.

Externally, because Cao Ci was the youngest, he became the junior brother to Ma Quxian and the other two.

Cao Ci didn't care about this, but Ma Quxian and the others were well aware that only by breaking into the Tenth Realm would they have a chance to be truly regarded as Pei Bei's direct disciples.

Chen Ping'an remained still, simply rolling up his sleeves.

Ma Quxian took a heavy step forward, the ground beneath his foot sinking slightly. His figure vanished in an instant. A torrent of his powerful martial energy surged out. The entire stretch of bamboo grove around the blue-robed figure bent backward, thousands of bamboo poles curving in a massive arc.

Chen Ping'an stood motionless. With one palm, he blocked Ma Quxian's elbow strike aimed at his chest, sliding backward a few steps. With his other hand, he reached out, tilting upward, and caught Ma Quxian's chin, suddenly exerting force.

Ma Quxian twisted his head sharply, dodging Chen Ping'an's seemingly casual but actually vicious grab. He bent his knees, twisted his waist, and dropped his shoulder, sinking his body. Spinning, he lashed out with a leg sweep. Then, the blue-robed figure vanished. Only the sound of green bamboo being snapped in half filled the air. Ma Quxian stood in the clearing. In the distance, the blue-robed man alighted gracefully on the tip of a broken bamboo stalk, one hand clenched in a fist, the other behind his back. He smiled and said, "You're giving me the first move? You're older, but not higher in realm. There's no need for such politeness."

Dou Fenxia narrowed her eyes. If it had been her, she wouldn't have been able to dodge that earlier grab from the young Hidden Officer. A solid hit, and the spar would have ended, leaving her to nurse her wounds for a month or two.

Ma Quxian remained silent, taking a deep breath. He assumed a fighting stance, full of the spirit of a drawn bow. With this Ninth Realm martial artist as the center, the surrounding bamboo grove bowed down, its stalks bending instantly. The sound of shattering echoed incessantly.

It was a fist technique that absorbed the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and refined it into pure true qi? What was the difference between such a martial artist and a alchemist? Facing a qi refiner, wouldn't he be like sitting naturally in a place where spiritual energy was forbidden?

Ma Quxian flickered and disappeared. Dou Fenxia and Liao Qing'ai couldn't even track their senior brother's movements.

They only heard a sound like fists colliding, like a string of spring thunder exploding in the bamboo grove. The next moment, Ma Quxian stood where the blue-robed figure had been. The arm he had used to punch was trembling slightly, and blood seeped through his sleeve.

From the perspective of the two female martial artists, the man now stood on the tip of a bamboo stalk that was bent like a head bowing. His hands were clasped behind his back, looking down from above. His eyes were still fixed on Ma Quxian. He smiled and asked, "Still giving me the first move? Do you really think I'm just a wandering friend from afar?"

Liao Qing'ai said sternly, "If you're going to spar, then spar. Insulting others with words—are you fit to be called a grandmaster?"

Chen Ping'an nodded. "Makes sense. That does sound like a reasonable point."

In the Vase Bottle Continent, there was an old man who always carried a sword with a bamboo-yellow sheath. Every time he traveled the martial world, he would first consult an old almanac before leaving home.

But one day, at home, a martial artist from another continent came to his door, demanding to buy the sword scabbard. If he didn't sell, he would die, and he would also take the lives of his grandson and granddaughter-in-law.

From that day on, the old man no longer had a martial world in his heart. He began to admit his age and could no longer flip through that old almanac.

So, Chen Ping'an had only exchanged a few words with them today, and they thought he was unworthy of being a martial artist?

Ma Quxian, recalling that this young Hidden Officer was from the Vase Bottle Continent, suddenly remembered something. He asked tentatively, "What's your relationship with an old man named Song from the Comb Water Kingdom?"

Finally remembered.

Chen Ping'an narrowed his eyes and said slowly, "What relationship? The relationship between a senior and a junior. Senior Song taught me a sword technique."

A single sword strike could scatter a thousand troops.

It was connected to the Sword Qi Great Wall by the same principle.

Chen Ping'an took a step sideways, stepping down from the bamboo stalk. His feet touched the ground. Beside him, a green bamboo instantly snapped straight, its leaves shaking violently.

Chen Ping'an asked, "Have you already forgotten that old man's name?"

Ma Quxian sneered. "So that's it. Not bad. What was the old man's name? I really can't remember."

He vaguely recalled that the old martial artist from some manor or other was a Sixth Realm or Seventh Realm martial artist? For a small country in the Vase Bottle Continent, he might have been considered a grandmaster and the head of the martial world? Ma Quxian only dimly remembered that at first, the old man didn't know his place. With a low realm but considerable courage, he had stubbornly refused to sell the sword scabbard. The young man and woman in the manor, who seemed to be the old man's younger relatives, were even willing to risk their lives. In the end, the old man, probably feeling that wrecking his family for a scabbard wasn't worth it, had reluctantly handed it over.

Chen Ping'an was slightly distracted, frowning.

Because that incredibly strange riverside assembly seemed to have ended. All the Fourteen Realm great cultivators had already returned to the banks of the River of Time.

Ma Quxian seized this fleeting opportunity. In an instant, he appeared before Chen Ping'an and silently threw the most perfect punch of his life—filled with his complete martial intent.

Chen Ping'an reached out, caught Ma Quxian's fist, gently deflected it, and then, for the first time, took the initiative to strike. It was the Divine Man Drumming Style.

One punch landed. Ma Quxian's sturdy figure was sent flying backward in a straight line for over a hundred feet. Along that line, he smashed countless green bamboo stalks. Punch after punch, Ma Quxian was driven back again and again, utterly unable to defend himself.

Dou Fenxia's face turned pale. Was her senior brother really going to have his realm shattered by this man?

A martial artist's realm dropping was an extremely rare occurrence, and its aftereffects were far more terrifying than the realm dropping of a mountain cultivator.

Liao Qing'ai instinctively wanted to take a step forward to interrupt the unbroken chain of punches, but she suppressed the urge, watching helplessly as her senior brother was battered by the blue-robed man's relentless fists.

In a spar between martial artists, there were rules, and they were even more important than victory or defeat, or even life and death.

Only at this moment did Dou Fenxia truly believe one thing.

Chen Ping'an might now really be qualified to spar with Cao Ci for victory or defeat.

Her senior brother Ma Quxian had once said that among all the martial artists in the world, only his junior brother Cao Ci, before breaking into the Tenth Realm, could completely overwhelm any opponent at the same realm. He could decide in how many punches he would win—just that many punches.

And once that little junior brother Cao Ci reached the Tenth Realm, dealing with any Ninth Realm martial artist in the world, regardless of their talent, would be a matter of one punch. He absolutely wouldn't need a second.

Back then, when the young woman had come to the Great Duan Dynasty to spar, Cao Ci's attitude toward her had been more like how he had treated Yu Juanfu in the early years at the Golden Armor Continent battlefield ruins.

But Pei Qian had indeed performed surprisingly well. In those few sparring matches, although Cao Ci had somewhat held back, deliberately suppressing his realm, he had been extremely serious with every punch. In particular, during the third match, Cao Ci had accidentally taken two hits from her.

So much so that after the match ended, although Pei Qian had already fainted from the pain, she still stubbornly leaned against the wall, refusing to let herself fall.

It was as if she were saying, "I haven't lost the fight."

And after the match, Cao Ci had to sit on the city wall of the Great Duan capital, one hand supporting his chin, the other rubbing his forehead to first dissipate the bruising.

The bamboo grove was now torn open by Ma Quxian's retreat, forming a trail three li long, lined on both sides with shattered bamboo stalks. In the end, this martial artist, whose internal world had collapsed, fell from being a Ninth Realm martial artist just moments ago to the Eighth Realm this moment. He leaned against a green bamboo, his face covered in blood. He could only stare wide-eyed, his arms hanging limply at his sides. His feet struggled to support him, trying to keep his body against the bamboo, but he still couldn't stop himself from slowly sliding down.

The blue-robed man bent down, reached out a hand, and pressed it against Ma Quxian's forehead, helping him to stand barely. He lowered his head and said, "Remember, that senior's name is Song Yushao. He was the Sword Saint of the Comb Water Kingdom."

Chen Ping'an let go. Ma Quxian's pure true qi completely dissipated. He slid to the ground, leaning against the green bamboo, seriously injured, his head drooping as if in a deep sleep.

After taking nearly twenty punches of the Divine Man Drumming Style, it would be strange if he didn't drop a realm; it would be strange if he didn't.

As for exactly how many punches Ma Quxian had taken, Chen Ping'an hadn't kept count. Why bother?

Chen Ping'an turned his head to look at the two female martial artists by the thatched huts.

Dou Fenxia felt heavy-hearted, her expression solemn, all traces of seduction gone.

She met the eyes of the blue-robed figure, who nodded slightly. Then he tapped his toe and flew to the top of the bamboo sea, landing on a bamboo branch. He gazed into the distance, as if the spar were over and he was about to fly away.

Dou Fenxia dashed over, crouched down, and reached out to support Ma Quxian's shoulder. Her face was full of sorrow. Her senior brother had indeed dropped in realm.

Liao Qing'ai remained in place at the entrance of the thatched hut. She took a step forward and suddenly cupped her fists, saying fiercely, "Chen Ping'an, within thirty years, I will challenge you!"

Chen Ping'an turned his head and glanced at her. "As you wish."

The next moment, the blue-robed figure vanished from the top of the bamboo sea.

At the same time, the Chen Ping'an in the house on the Parrot Island also disappeared.

The two Chen Ping'ans who had been wandering around outside the Confucian Temple, causing trouble everywhere, were able to return to the riverside, merging into one.

This riverside assembly was the strangest thing of all.

Earlier, following those Fourteen Realm cultivators, including Wu Shuangjiang, up the Tuo Yue Mountain, which was almost indistinguishable from the real one, as soon as Chen Ping'an reached the summit, with his next step, he found himself back at the riverside.

Chen Ping'an only vaguely sensed that the River of Time had undergone some subtle changes, but he couldn't remember or guess what he had done or said between that one step and the next.

He felt that things weren't that simple.

When he returned to the riverside, he only saw Ritual Sage and Bai Ze.

His master, Second Sage, and all the other Fourteen Realm cultivators had vanished.

She was also gone.

So Chen Ping'an could only crouch by the water, continue staring at the River of Time, and emulate Li Huai—if he couldn't figure something out, he wouldn't think too much about it.

But on the Parrot Island, he learned that this landed gentry Liu Chicheng had spent a full fifteen hundred Grain Rain coins to buy a hundred pieces of green glazed tiles from Fiery Dragon True Man.

Such a 'master of business'—he wasn't even qualified to be an accountant at his own Fallen Mountain, let alone learn from that Great Sword Immortal Mi and guard the gate for his god of wealth Wei Wenlong.

On the Parrot Island, he had borrowed money from others, only to end up owing more when he met Yu Panshui and Yuan Zhou.

So, as Chen Ping'an looked at the mysterious River of Time, he couldn't help but think he was staring at a river of immortal money.

He couldn't help but turn his head to look at Ritual Sage.

Ritual Sage smiled and said, "Managing the purse strings—maybe I should let you do it instead."

Chen Ping'an knew that his plan to meddle with the River of Time was out of the question.

So he turned to asking about the knowledge of the 'broken character talisman.' Ritual Sage only replied that once they left this place, Xi Ping would allow him to peruse the Confucian Temple's confidential archives.

Chen Ping'an stood up and bowed in thanks.

Ritual Sage smiled and said, "Over at the Night Boat, there are often flashes of sword light. I hope you won't keep people waiting too long, because later you may need to meet someone before you can return to the Night Boat."

Chen Ping'an nodded, utterly puzzled.

Meet whom?

It wouldn't be the Most Sacred Master, would it?

Chen Ping'an didn't dare to ask further.

Bai Ze left Ritual Sage's side and walked alone to Chen Ping'an. The two, vastly different in age, sat by the water—one sitting, one crouching—and chatted idly about the customs and landscapes of the Vase Bottle Continent. When Bai Ze had traveled out that year, he had brought along a fox spirit in palace attire, roaming the Haoran World together. Their encounter on the snowy night at the mountain path on the border of Great Li had, of course, been deliberate on Bai Ze's part.

Regarding Chen Ping'an's predicament of bearing the true names of great demons, Mr. Bai Ze said with a smile that once the Hidden Officer reached the Immortal realm, the situation would improve significantly.

Hearing Mr. Bai Ze address him as 'Hidden Officer,' Chen Ping'an couldn't help but feel awkward.

If he ever returned to the Sword Qi Great Wall in the future and then traveled south to the Barren Wild World, Chen Ping'an wouldn't mind meeting anyone else, but he hoped he wouldn't encounter the person beside him.

But as long as he went to that Barren Wild World, which now only had two bright moons, it seemed hard to avoid meeting Mr. Bai Ze.

"Chen Ping'an, don't overthink it. Just focus on your own responsibilities."

Bai Ze said with a smile, "No matter what others do, as a scholar, if you hold firmly to a principle in your heart, and act in accordance with virtuous deeds, with humanity as your guide, you may not necessarily profit from it on the path of cultivation, but at least it will allow you to take each step with peace of mind."

A tall woman dressed in white appeared first at Chen Ping'an's side, sitting cross-legged with a sword lying across her knees.

Then came the old scholar, Second Sage, followed by Yu Dou, Lu Chen, the monk Shen Qing, the female Daoist, the Dragon Slayer, the old temple master, Wu Shuangjiang, and several others whose identities Chen Ping'an didn't know. They all reappeared one by one by the river.

It was as if everyone had taken a distant journey, coming back unscathed. It seemed as though all the Fourteen Realm great cultivators had experienced a great dream, and upon waking, as they pondered the dream, it became hazy.

Everyone was like someone on the shore gazing at the moon reflected in the water. Any thought was a pebble, and the moment they had a thought, they cast a stone into the water, causing ripples that only made the moon in the water more indistinct.

So, all these great cultivators who truly stood at the summit fell into deep thought, none speaking.

Perhaps the exception was the slovenly second headmaster of the Jade Capital. Lu Chen seemed hesitant about whether to catch up with Chen Ping'an and ask how his calligraphy was coming along.

The woman in white, sitting beside Chen Ping'an, was the first to speak. She smiled and said, "In recent years, out in the heavens, with nothing else to do, I opened up an ancient battlefield site as a place to practice swords. Master can ascend to it in the future to cultivate. Go when you want, return when you want. The Confucian Temple won't stop you, right, Ritual Sage?"

Ritual Sage smiled and nodded. "The senior has the final say."

Chen Ping'an felt a chill in his heart.

Then Ritual Sage shifted his gaze slightly to the young swordsman with a sword on his back and added, "Right, Chen Ping'an?"

Chen Ping'an had no choice but to steel himself and say, "Ritual Sage's word also carries weight."

Lu Chen raised a hand, adjusted his slightly crooked lotus crown, and clapped his hands with a laugh, exclaiming, "Ah, my homeland, a land of rites."

The old temple master of the East Sea smiled and said, "Haven't seen you in a few years. Your skills have grown."

The old monk pressed his palms together, intoned 'Amitabha,' and nodded. "Roots of wisdom. It is the work of wisdom."

Chen Ping'an felt quite helpless. You are all Fourteen Realm. You all have the final say.

The atmosphere by the river relaxed a bit.

Suddenly, Ritual Sage made a deep bow to everyone. When he straightened up, he smiled and said, "The assembly is over. Everyone, go home."

No one asked a single question, but somehow, they all seemed to guess something—that this assembly, although the three founders of the religions had not shown themselves, had definitely been watched from behind the scenes.

"Go home," and then there would probably be a clear result waiting for everyone.

Ritual Sage dissolved the restrictions. Bai Ze stood up and vanished from the riverside first.

The old scholar trotted over, replacing Bai Ze, and sat down beside Chen Ping'an. He reached out a hand, touched the ground, and said with disappointment, "This Mr. Bai Ze, how can he be a senior? He didn't even leave a gold nugget on the ground."

Lu Chen stood on tiptoe, waving from a distance. "Chen Ping'an, see you later. I'm waiting for you."

Chen Ping'an ignored him.

The old monk Shen Qing seemed to speak in a cryptic riddle to Chen Ping'an, smiling as he said, "The spirit of the eastern mountain, the elegance of the northern sea. Cultivate stillness, wisdom, and precepts. Attain the Buddha of Medicine."

Although Chen Ping'an understood nothing, he still stood up, pressed his palms together, and respectfully returned the salutation to the old monk.

Lu Chen looked on with a gratified smile, nodding to himself. "Indeed, he's still closer to my Way. No need for such formalities."

At the bank of the River of Time, one by one, the Fourteen Realm great cultivators rose like comets from the earth, heading for the sky and disappearing in an instant.

Wu Shuangjiang would continue to travel the Barren Wild World, looking for trouble with that old deaf man of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Yu Dou had cast a glance at the blue-robed youth with a sword on his back before returning to the Azure World to continue guarding the Jade Capital.

The Dragon Slayer, now going by the alias Chen Zhuoliu, planned to find that Jing Hao, who had occupied his nest for three thousand years, and make him move out for the original owner.

The Grand Guardian of the Green Palace? What Green Palace?

Naturally, it was his cultivation site.

If it hadn't been for his decision back then to slay the dragon, the Haoran World wouldn't have only a White Emperor City; there would have been a Green Emperor City first.

Chen Ping'an sat back down in his original spot.

She turned around, reached out a hand, and made a fist as if holding something, offering it to Chen Ping'an.

Chen Ping'an, not understanding, extended his palm. But she suddenly grabbed his hand and said with a smile, "Since it seems like just a blink of an eye, and twenty years have passed, when I think of it that way, the sixty-year agreement doesn't seem like much. I'll just take a little nap in the sword practice ground. When the time comes, don't bring other women to the heavens. And if you haven't reached the Ascension realm by then, just say a word to Ritual Sage."

Chen Ping'an sighed and nodded gently, promising her.

The old scholar sucked in a cold breath, looked straight ahead, sat up straight as a bell, and said with great righteousness, "The scenery on the other side is beautiful."

She let go of his hand and stood up.

Chen Ping'an followed suit and said, "Why must you go to the heavens? You can wander around the Haoran World. In the past ten thousand years, you've always been in your homeland, rarely moving around much."

She blinked. "Stay in the Haoran World? I'm afraid the vinegar smell would be too strong."

Chen Ping'an's expression became awkward, and he immediately shut up.

She looked at Chen Ping'an, seeing herself in his eyes. In her eyes, she could only see him.

She smiled radiantly, took a step back, and said softly, "I'm off."

Chen Ping'an nodded.

She turned into a rainbow and shot away, breaking through the sky and heading straight into the heavens.

The next moment, Chen Ping'an found himself on a mountaintop.

The peak of Sui Mountain.

An old gentleman stood not far away, looking at him with a kind smile.

Chen Ping'an bowed deeply, for the first time in his life at a loss for words.

The old scholar stamped his foot. "How can this be! How can this be! The etiquette is too great! My closed-door disciple, no matter how young, no matter how diligent in his studies, no matter how excellent in cultivating his mind and strength, no matter how outstanding in handling worldly affairs, is still unworthy of such a supreme honor!"

Ritual Sage stood to one side, most intolerant of the old scholar's affected modesty. He smiled and said, "The etiquette is too great? Who was it that pestered me shamelessly to ask for this?"

The old scholar rubbed his hands together. "Hitting people doesn't mean hitting the face. Scolding people doesn't mean exposing their weaknesses. Ritual Sage, don't you know such a rule? That's not kind of you."

As a teacher, if you can ask for something, why not ask?

The old gentleman chuckled. "Scholar, this disciple of yours isn't as handsome as you said."

Chen Ping'an straightened up, somewhat embarrassed.

Then a flash of insight struck him, and his heart trembled.

So that explained why the Fourteen Realm great cultivators had gathered by the riverside, only to find that even the assembly ended without knowing what had been discussed.

The old gentleman 'hmm'ed, nodded, and said with a smile, "Clever. Cleverer than I imagined. That's right. What's the point of studying if you can't grasp the essence?"

The old man chuckled. "One person acts in kindness."

Chen Ping'an hesitated for a moment, then waited, and had to respond, "Ten thousand people can be inspired."

The old man continued, "A greater knowledge?"

Chen Ping'an answered, "In action."

The Most Sacred Master smiled and nodded. "Very good."