Chapter 806: The Azure White Debate

Chapter 806: The Azure White Debate

Upon seeing Cao Ci, Chen Ping'an clasped his fists and smiled, "In the Great Duan capital, you were willing to teach Pei Qian four rounds of boxing. I thank you for that."

Cao Ci smiled and nodded, accepting the thanks of this young Hidden Official openly. In the early days, when facing Pei Qian's four consecutive challenges, Cao Ci had delivered each punch with great knowledge. Such teaching could be considered meticulous. Since the facts were as they were, there was nothing wrong with admitting it.

Besides, in Pei Qian's third challenge, when her momentum was heaviest, her fist intent highest, and her fist techniques newest, Cao Ci had taken two of her punches, both on his face. For Chen Ping'an to thank him, no matter how one looked at it, Cao Ci was still the one who had lost out. As for the final challenge, where Pei Qian lost three in a row, that young female martial artist had been a bit stubborn, delivering many patchwork fist techniques that were more like street brawling.

The Cao Ci before him was clad in a white robe, spotless and flawless.

When Chen Ping'an was young and had encountered Cao Ci atop the city wall, he had only thought that this person of similar age, dressed in a snow-white long robe with handsome features, seemed like an immortal being, unattainably lofty and distant.

Now, looking again, Chen Ping'an could see through the craftsmanship at a glance. The robe Cao Ci wore was a celestial-grade immortal robe, ranked as an immortal soldier. According to obscure entries in the archives of the Summer Retreat, the founding emperor of the Great Duan dynasty, blessed with deep fortune, had once possessed a robe named "Great Snow," extremely profound. Worn by an earthly immortal cultivator, it was like a sage sitting in a small world, while also capable of imprisoning and tormenting eighth and ninth realm martial arts grandmasters who had fallen captive. No matter how unruly the martial artist, trapped within, their limbs stiffened, skin cracked, and soul suffered torment, like heavy snow pressing down on a parasol tree, bones breaking like branches, with the sound of snapping firewood.

If there was no accident, that was exactly what Cao Ci was wearing now.

Matters of wearing a dharma robe were something Chen Ping'an was all too familiar with. The higher the robe's rank and the higher the martial artist's realm, the more robbing wearing it became a chicken rib, even reversing to suppress the martial artist's physique.

Perhaps in the early years, Pei Bei had intentionally arranged this, allowing Cao Ci to practice boxing constantly, whether awake or asleep, without a moment's rest.

Cao Ci's martial arts aptitude and boxing talent were already as high as they could possibly be.

And in Cao Ci's eyes, the figure in azure robes before him was now both a Saint Realm martial artist and a Jade Pure Realm sword cultivator, yet still seemed like the same old Chen Ping'an.

But tonight, Cao Ci had come to the Grove of Merit, seemingly without any intention of throwing a punch immediately.

Or was he waiting for some opportunity where "one disagreement leads to action"? For example, after reminiscing, they might accidentally chat about Senior Brother Ma Quxian's realm decline, or the preciousness of the scabbard and the difficulty of defying the master's orders? By the same logic, Chen Ping'an could explain things at the bamboo grove; now that Cao Ci had come to the Grove of Merit, could he explain again?

Regardless, Chen Ping'an just smiled at the moment.

As if seeing a bruised and swollen Cao Ci.

On the city wall of the Great Duan capital, Pei Qian had lost all four rounds of boxing to Cao Ci. After seeing her master Chen Ping'an in the Cloud Cavern Blessed Land, she had told him directly. But for some reason, although Cao Ci had been hit twice by her, Pei Qian never mentioned it. Perhaps she felt that losing four rounds and throwing hundreds of punches, only landing two on Cao Ci, if she still had the face to brag, when she got to her master, she might get a belly full of chestnuts?

Cao Ci asked curiously, "What are you smiling about? Because you took a good disciple?"

Perhaps the opportunity had not yet come; Cao Ci himself still had no plans to take a disciple.

Chen Ping'an said seriously, "Nothing. When it comes to boxing, Cao Ci is invincible—I admit that. But when it comes to teaching others to box, you're lacking. If it were me, I wouldn't have taken two punches."

This kind of statement could only be said so calmly by Chen Ping'an.

Back when he returned from traveling in Northern Juzhou, on the second floor of the bamboo tower, a confident Chen Ping'an had for the first time in his life tried to feed Pei Qian some proper punches, only to be knocked down with a single punch. Indeed, not two punches.

Liu Shiliu appeared, arms crossed, leaning against a tree, grinning as he watched the two pure martial artists.

Quite interesting. The two young men who had already reached the pinnacle of martial arts in the world, neither showing any murderous intent, seemed like old friends reuniting after years.

But it was certain that if one side decided to throw a punch, neither would be vague, and the fight would definitely be spectacular. Even Jun Qian thought that if these two fought, they might be even more exciting than Zhang Tiaoxia boxing Pei Bei.

Liu Shiliu had never seen Cao Ci before; he was indeed impressive. Just in terms of appearance, the little junior brother couldn't compare.

Worried that Cao Ci might misunderstand, Liu Shiliu waved his hand, "I'm not here to favor Chen Ping'an. I just want to see you two fight."

When it came to fist techniques, Liu Shiliu was born knowing them, but he had never put much effort into practicing and performing boxing in his life.

Cao Ci clasped his fists, "Great Duan martial artist Cao Ci greets Mr. Liu."

Liu Shiliu nodded in greeting, then smiled, "Forget it, I'd better leave. But I've already talked to Mr. Xi Ping. If you want to box, don't worry about damage to the Grove of Merit. Mr. Xi Ping has his own methods to restore it."

Liu Shiliu left. No matter how one looked at it, it seemed Liu Shiliu was egging Cao Ci on to beat up Chen Ping'an. This senior brother certainly walked an unusual path.

Cao Ci said, "My master has already set out for the Tattoo Mark Guixu Ferry. She left only the scabbard with me."

At the four Guixu connecting the two worlds, before the long-distance crossings jokingly called "Water Gods Escorting Goods" by A Liang, various sages, cultivators, and sword cultivators would set off first for the Barren Wilderness World. For example, the two vice presidents of the Confucian Temple and the three libationers of the great academies had already left for the Eye of Heaven Ferry. Yu Xuan, even though he needed to merge with the starry river, would still watch over the Divine Township Ferry at the canopy of heaven. And Fiery Dragon True Person, after leaving the Grove of Merit, had actually already headed for the Divine Township. As for Pei Bei, she went to the Tattoo Mark Ferry, while Su Zi and Liu Qi traveled together to the Sunset Ferry.

The top combat strength of the Hao Ran World, not a single one missing, would all appear sequentially on the front lines of the future battlefield in the Barren Wilderness.

Ma Quxian, who was severely injured, had already been escorted back to the Great Duan dynasty by his junior sister Dou Fenxia. Liao Qing'ai was waiting for her little junior brother Cao Ci, and then they would head to the Barren Wilderness together.

Chen Ping'an looked at the bamboo-yellow scabbard, hands tucked in sleeves, and said with a smile, "I've checked many archives regarding the landscape secrets of the Great Duan dynasty, and I've also asked Senior Song and the nearby Sword Water Mountain's mountain god. Now I'd like to hear your version. Maybe I'm wrong."

Senior Song's sword was named "Standing Firm." After searching through ancient books, he had found a record from a fragment: "Sharp light splits the five mountains, sword qi cuts the great rivers." But Senior Song had never been able to find the origin of the scabbard. In earlier years, by chance, he had opened the mechanism of the deep pool's pillar stone pier and obtained the ancient sword Standing Firm, and the bamboo-yellow scabbard was already that ancient sword's sheath. Chen Ping'an had asked the mountain god about the mystery of that deep pool, then researched Pei Bei's age, and finally concluded that this was his second reason for boxing Ma Quxian.

As long as he could determine that the scabbard's "age" hidden in the deep pool of Sword Water Mountain was older than the time Great Duan's national preceptor Pei Bei had possessed the ancient sword, that was enough.

Cao Ci shook his head, "The sword and the bamboo scabbard have been separated for many years. It's hard to say who is the real owner. When my master got the sword, it had no scabbard. A long sword without a sheath was always a bit regrettable. So back then, my master sent the senior brother to Bottle Gourd Prefecture. Based on the results of astrology, following clues step by step, the senior brother finally found this bamboo scabbard."

Pei Bei's sword was an ancient famous sword named "Green God."

This sword became famous too early and had been silent for too long, becoming obscure in later generations, until Pei Bei found it.

Cao Ci raised the scabbard in his hand and said, "My master told the senior brother: 'Buy it. If the holder of the bamboo scabbard is unwilling to sell, forget it. Do not force it.'"

His master, Pei Bei, the national preceptor of the Great Duan dynasty and the female martial god of the Hao Ran World, had been taciturn since childhood, called a "wooden person" by her peers. She had a rough experience. After starting martial arts as a young girl, she liked to secretly drink wine; she was quite fond of the cup.

That wooden girl, on the first day of practicing martial arts and boxing, wanted to say "no" to many things.

Chen Ping'an nodded, "I believe this is the truth."

Cao Ci continued, "But the senior brother took matters into his own hands, leading to that forced sale in Bottle Gourd Prefecture back then. The senior brother was a military general by origin. As a young man, he joined the army and led the Great Duan dynasty's most elite border troops, controlling ten thousand miles of land, guarding the frontier. In over thirty years of military career, Ma Quxian had long become indifferent to life and death—his own, others', comrades', and enemies'."

Saying this, Cao Ci paused for a moment, then smiled, "I'm not trying to defend anyone. I just need to make some things clear to you."

Chen Ping'an nodded, "That's how reasoning should be done."

Only when calm and collected could one truly reason.

Cao Ci said, "Senior brother lost the boxing match in the bamboo grove and suffered realm decline. On this matter, he understands. He only feels that his fist is inferior to others. He doesn't think he was wrong in the matter of the bamboo scabbard. I tried to persuade him a couple of times, but he didn't want to listen. The fist is one's own fist, the matter is one's own matter. Grievances and debts are settled by oneself; life and death are one's own responsibility. As his junior brother, I won't say more. So I guess in the future, he will still come to box with you."

Chen Ping'an laughed, "If he really likes boxing, let him challenge me as many times as he wants."

He couldn't very well stop Ma Quxian from challenging him and losing every time. Ma Quxian would only lose again and again in this life, until he finally settled down and became a proper military general leading troops.

But Chen Ping'an added, "As for Senior Liao's boxing, I'll handle that separately. It will just be a spar between pure martial artists."

Cao Ci smiled, "I trust you on that."

Otherwise, why would Cao Ci have gone to all this trouble tonight? He could have just shown up at the door, found Chen Ping'an, and thrown punches.

Cao Ci lightly tossed the scabbard in his hand to Chen Ping'an.

Chen Ping'an extended his hand out of his sleeve, caught the scabbard, and said with a smile, "Indeed, Cao Ci is still Cao Ci."

A pure martial artist, yet more ethereal than mountain-dwelling cultivators.

Cao Ci said, "I'm already at the Return to Truth realm. You're still at Vigorous Spirit for now. So let's not fight until you reach Return to Truth."

Chen Ping'an said, "By the time I reach Return to Truth, won't you already be at 'Spirit Arrival'?"

Cao Ci smiled, "I can't just wait for you, can I?"

Chen Ping'an thought for a moment, "When I travel through Central Earth Divine Continent, whether or not our realms differ, I will come to box you."

Having said that, Chen Ping'an immediately corrected himself, "Or maybe on the Sword Qi Great Wall?"

Given Cao Ci's temperament, he would definitely go to the Barren Wilderness World. He might not even stay at the Tattoo Mark Ferry but choose to travel the Barren Wilderness alone, deep into its heartland.

Cao Ci nodded, "Then let's make an appointment on the city wall. The same place?"

Chen Ping'an laughed, "No problem."

Although he wouldn't return to the Sword Qi Great Wall immediately, having stared at the Barren Wilderness World for nearly twenty years from the city wall until his eyes ached, he had to make a trip there at some point.

Liu, the financier of the White Bear Continent, had set up a "no-loss" gambling pool regarding Cao Ci, with a time limit of five hundred years.

Those in the know at the mountain peaks all understood that this strange bet set by Liu Jübao was actually designed for two young men of the same age. It had little to do with the rest of the Hao Ran World's martial artists.

What was even stranger was that the two who had bet the most money were both betting that Cao Ci could not avoid losing a bout.

One of them was Fiery Dragon True Person, famously known for never carrying money when he went out. The other was anonymous, with his identity hidden.

At the pavilion, the old scholar raised his sleeve, holding a chess piece in one hand and stroking his beard with the other, asking, "Is it not going to happen?"

Liu Shiliu laughed, "Not necessarily."

Zuo You said, "It will definitely happen."

The sutra reciter Xi Ping, who had been dragged to play chess by the old scholar, reminded, "I don't care if you fight or not, but put those two pieces back on the table."

You're taking advantage, and taking two key pieces from the chess game at that.

The old scholar said angrily, "In the past, before I regained my Confucian Temple status, I could take one. What's wrong with taking one more now? A scholar who can't take any loss—how can that be?"

Xi Ping pointed at the chessboard, "Take them. If you have the face, take a few more."

The old scholar was taken aback, then hurriedly picked up multiple pieces from the board, "Hey, under heaven, there's such a request? Strange indeed. I'll have to go against my conscience and satisfy you!"

Xi Ping stopped playing chess and set the piece he was holding back into the bowl.

The old scholar looked at the board and also restored the multiple pieces he had taken, then sighed with emotion, "Who would have believed that I could win against Xi Ping on the chessboard?"

Xi Ping chuckled, "Why not say that when your closed-door disciple wasn't around, you had been hiding seventy to eighty percent of your chess ability."

In the distance, both parties faced off.

Chen Ping'an held the scabbard, "Shall I see you out?"

Cao Ci shook his head, "No need."

The two turned around almost simultaneously—one heading back to the pavilion to meet his master and senior brother, the other preparing to leave the Grove of Merit to meet his senior sister.

Both had reached the Saint Realm of martial arts, and would go further still. They walked back to back, slowly and calmly, with great composure.

One thought, he had explained everything for his master and senior brother to Chen Ping'an. It seemed he had nothing left to do. Had he come to the Grove of Merit for a stroll? It felt a bit lacking.

The other thought, the martial world is a mix of fish and dragons. Some people venture into it, some run through it, some drift in it. Some people are in the martial world, but will never be of it.

The white-robed Cao Ci thought of the no-loss bet. That young Hidden Official in white was said to be the best at setting up a gambling pool. Had he placed a bet?

The azure-robed Chen Ping'an thought, he had lost three matches, and his disciple had later lost four. No matter how he looked at it, something didn't add up.

One thought, in this life, he had always been challenged to box. He rarely had any intention of challenging others. Tonight, with a bright moon and sparse stars, the world silent, it seemed like a good time for a spar.

The other thought, without reason, of the old man on the second floor teaching fist techniques before fist principles: after learning boxing, delivering punches, one should teach the world's martial artists that only the sky is above. The great meaning of striking out is that there is no one before you. As he walked now, of course there was no one before him. But if he turned around, wouldn't there be someone?

Cao Ci felt that leaving like this would be somehow lacking.

Chen Ping'an thought that after so many years, missing out on Cao Ci would be improper.

So the two stopped at the same time.

Cao Ci stood still, reached out with two fingers to pull at the cuff of his snow-white robe. Wearing this dharma robe while delivering punches would not be fast enough.

Chen Ping'an tossed the scabbard in his hand toward the pavilion, letting Senior Brother Jun Qian keep it for him. After stopping, he rolled up his sleeves.

Cao Ci turned his head and asked with a smile, "A spar, just to the point?"

Chen Ping'an also turned his head, "You're older, your fists higher. You call the shots?"

The next moment, both had disappeared from their original positions, each throwing their first punch with all their strength.

The entire Grove of Merit, whose formation restrictions were sufficient to suppress a fourteenth realm cultivator, seemed like a mountain being lifted from the earth, picked up by an immortal and thrown into a lake. The ripples of qi were so violent that within a hundred zhang radius, towering ancient trees were all snapped and shattered.

The River of Time in the Hao Ran World would automatically bypass the Grove of Merit. The First Sage had long ago cut a section of this flowing water, imprisoning it within the Grove of Merit, under the control of the sutra reciter Xi Ping.

Xi Ping stood on the steps outside the pavilion, flicked his sleeves, and used his divine power to reverse the River of Time. The fist energy like waterfalls from Cao Ci and Chen Ping'an, and the resulting damage, was instantly restored to its original state.

If he waited until they were done fighting to reverse the river, even Xi Ping wasn't sure if the Grove of Merit could be exactly the same as before.

Zuo You slightly loosened his own power restriction, letting a stream of sword qi flow out, just enough to protect the pavilion and block the overwhelming fist intent that covered the sky.

Cao Ci leaned against a towering ancient tree. The ancient cypress behind him swayed gently. He reached out and patted the mark on his chest. Cao Ci was still in white, but he had put away the immortal soldier dharma robe into his sleeve.

In the distance, Chen Ping'an stood on the railing of a white jade bridge, his forehead slightly red.

Between them, a trench several zhang deep had appeared, but Xi Ping had already smoothed it over with his techniques.

Chen Ping'an tapped his toes and vanished in an instant. Since someone was helping clean up the mess, he didn't need to worry about etiquette. He could apologize to Mr. Xi Ping later.

The white jade bridge beneath his feet turned to powder in an instant. With just a light stomp, heavy with fist intent, he sank deep, and muffled thunder came from underground.

Although Chen Ping'an's punches were at a disadvantage, the gap was far smaller than it had been back on the Sword Qi Great Wall.

So in the previous punch, he had taken more damage, but he would never again fail to even touch Cao Ci's clothes.

Originally, he had aimed a fist strike at Cao Ci's nape. But after taking a punch to the head from Cao Ci first, the distance was slightly increased. Chen Ping'an leaned his head back a bit, then turned the punch into a palm and slashed down, hitting the other's chest.

If it had been someone like Ma Quxian, taking that hit would have them bedridden for months, unable to speak a word.

Cao Ci had long known that Chen Ping'an was extremely durable, with an exceptionally tough physique, unreasonable. On the Sword Qi Great Wall, he had trained boxing fiercely, with wild moves. But the fact that Chen Ping'an took a solid punch to the forehead without any issue still surprised Cao Ci a bit.

Both were like rainbows, each step covering as much ground as an immortal shrinking distances. Relying solely on pure true qi, they moved unpredictably within the Grove of Merit. Sometimes they dodged each other's punches, sometimes they exchanged blows. There was never a case where one's punch hit and the other's missed.

However, Chen Ping'an's "Divine Man Drumming Style" was indeed unable to connect its fist intent seamlessly. During the interval, Cao Ci pressed two fingers together, and before Chen Ping'an could deliver the "second punch" of the Drumming Style, Cao Ci had already erased the residual fist intent on his body.

Compared to Yu Juanfu back then, who had struggled to interrupt the connected fist intent of the Divine Man Drumming Style, Cao Ci truly made it seem light and effortless.

Cao Ci tilted his head, but still took a sweeping punch to the temple. His head shook a few times, but his stance held firm. He was just shifted sideways a few steps.

Chen Ping'an took two punches to the chest from Cao Ci. Although they seemed to be delivered simultaneously, they carried two completely different fist intents. This not only sent Chen Ping'an flying backward several dozen zhang, but also felt as if his personal small world had been cut in half by a sword cultivator. As a martial artist, his physique could handle it—he wasn't severely injured; Chen Ping'an had ways of deflecting most of the force of those two punches. However, as a cultivator, his qi in his energy palaces surged turbulently, which wasn't easy.

Cao Ci took advantage of the moment, rushing forward, one hand pressing down to try to hold Chen Ping'an's head.

In the space, several white-robed Cao Ci appeared in different places, anticipating, each throwing a punch.

It was as if Chen Ping'an had taken six consecutive punches from Cao Ci.

Not exactly—he dodged the first one, but it was only Cao Ci's final leg sweep aimed at his waist that he managed to avoid.

When Cao Ci withdrew his punches, he immediately exchanged for a fresh mouthful of pure true qi, slightly bent his knees, and vanished.

Chen Ping'an drifted toward the pavilion. With a palm slap on the ridge, he spun and landed further away, but not on the ground. During this, he also exchanged his qi and disappeared in midair.

They exchanged one punch.

For three li around, their fist intent scattered and dissipated. The fist energy was overwhelmingly majestic, like rivers surging, like millions of interwoven fine sword qi filling the air.

Even Xi Ping couldn't reverse time for a moment.

Chen Ping'an stood on a riverbank, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

Cao Ci stood on the river's surface. The river was full of whirlpools, all torn by the chaotic fist energy.

Chen Ping'an asked with a smile, "Does that fist technique have a name?"

Cao Ci nodded, "Ephemeral Flower."

Chen Ping'an lifted his chin, "Wipe your nosebleed. Between us, no need to be particular. Learn from me."

Damn it, "Ephemeral Flower"? A flash in the pan? Not a great name. When it comes to naming things, you should learn from me.

Cao Ci smiled, "And what about you swallowing a huge mouthful of stagnant blood?"

Chen Ping'an suddenly frowned.

Within his inner small world, without any warning, an ominous phenomenon of mountains and rivers trembling appeared. Was this the essence of the Ephemeral Flower punch? Like the lingering sword qi after a flying sword passes through?

On the river, the white robes had already disappeared, and Cao Ci's voice came with a laugh, "This punch, for now, is named 'Flowing Water.'"

The next moment, Chen Ping'an was punched out of the Grove of Merit and landed on the Confucian Temple square.

He didn't tumble all the way. With an elbow bracing the ground, he flipped his body and landed gracefully in his azure robes.

Cao Ci stepped out of the Grove of Merit's restrictions and came out of the Confucian Temple, "Chen Ping'an, you're still wearing a dharma robe? Not caring about such minute differences? Wanting to take punches deliberately to help temper your physique—that's fine. But to be so indifferent to victory or defeat?"

Cao Ci squinted, "I don't think you've reached that point yet."

Chen Ping'an smiled, "You're mistaken. I feel that since you came to return the scabbard tonight, I wouldn't feel right not taking a few of your punches."

That's what he said. He guessed Cao Ci wouldn't believe it. Actually, Chen Ping'an himself felt this excuse wasn't convincing even to him.

But in fact, Chen Ping'an did have a hidden difficulty.

Because of bearing the true names of the goblins, his physique was mysterious. It was easy for him to become mentally unstable. Additionally, he had been severely ambushed earlier by that ancient fourteenth realm fellow who had returned from beyond the heavens to Toppled Moon Mountain—an elder who didn't act his age. So if Chen Ping'an let himself go completely and fought Cao Ci to the death, his punches would provoke his Dao heart, naturally stirring up killing intent. If he were fighting to the death with an enemy, it would be fine. But sparring with Cao Ci wouldn't be appropriate.

Cao Ci seemed to understand and guessed something. He planned to stop.

The boxing match had become meaningless and uninteresting.

Chen Ping'an took a deep breath and asked, "How many fist techniques have you created yourself?"

Cao Ci said, "Less than thirty."

Chen Ping'an nodded, "A bit few."

Cao Ci asked, "Looks like you'll be more serious with your next punches?"

Chen Ping'an had temporarily found a way to suppress his cultivator's state of mind. His eyes lit up, and he nodded, "But let's agree beforehand: don't accidentally kill me. As for the rest, do as you please. No matter how many techniques or how heavy the punches, it's fine."

The first time Cao Ci delivered a punch, he formally opened a fist stance.

The white robe fluttered, the wide sleeves slightly swaying. His fist intent was restrained to the extreme.

But around the Confucian Temple, the spiritual qi of heaven and earth began to naturally recede.

Cao Ci smiled, "This punch is named 'Dragon Walks the River.' It's not light."

Chen Ping'an said, "I'll take the punch."

At the pavilion, Xi Ping's expression was helpless. He said to Liu Shiliu, "Jun Qian, you didn't say they would leave the Grove of Merit and fight all the way to the Confucian Temple."

Zuo You, who had been watching his little junior brother's boxing process, laughed, "Mr. Xi Ping is capable of much. It's not a big problem."

Earlier, Liu Shiliu had said something: if they didn't talk about the depth of fist techniques or the height of fist intent, but only about physiques, the little junior brother was still superior.

Then the old scholar slapped each of them, "Little junior brother is being beaten, and you're laughing?!"

Liu Shiliu laughed, "It's not everyone who can make Cao Ci throw punches without restraint."

Cao Ci had removed his dharma robe earlier, which was proof.

This meant Cao Ci had developed a bit of a desire to win.

The old scholar said, "To be honest, having Cao Ci in the Hao Ran World is a blessing."

Fortunately, with Cao Ci ahead, Chen Ping'an, his closed-door disciple, would walk the path of martial arts with extraordinary determination.

And with a child like Cao Ci, no matter how high he climbed, these old men would see it as a good thing.

The old scholar naturally had high hopes for his closed-door disciple Chen Ping'an—no hope was too high—but when Chen Ping'an contended with others, whether in reasoning or martial arts, he shouldn't assume the opponent was wrong or inferior. Instead, the opponent should be right, should be higher. Then student Chen Ping'an would follow, step by step, becoming more right and higher in turn. That was the old scholar's true expectation for Chen Ping'an.

The great Dao under heaven was not like street quarrels that must settle who wins.

On every Dao, those who walk and reason are truly the ones cultivating the Dao.

The more reasoning is debated and contested, the clearer it becomes. Fists, the more polished and tempered, become steadier. The Dao heart, the more honed and refined, grows brighter.

Xi Ping nodded, "As long as Chen Ping'an can keep up with Cao Ci, even if he falls half a step behind, it's not a problem. There's still a chance."

Right now, they were only half a step apart.

Don't look at tonight's spar—Chen Ping'an took quite a few hits. Actually, the victory and defeat weren't too far apart. First, Chen Ping'an's martial arts foundation was built by being beaten. Second, since both were only aiming for victory, not life and death, this spar wasn't truly exhilarating or heartless for either of them.

Liu Shiliu said, "When they both reach Spirit Arrival someday, the gap might open up a bit again. So the little junior brother needs to polish himself well at the Return to Truth level."

Before reaching Saint Realm's Mountain Summit level, Cao Ci might have been a bit hasty to deal with the great battle in Support Continent. But Chen Ping'an, on the Sword Qi Great Wall, could be more focused.

Now, it's different.

Cao Ci is too pure. Especially when his spirit rises, his subsequent boxing aura will be terrifying.

Liu Shiliu wouldn't have any prejudice against a young man like Cao Ci just because he was Chen Ping'an's senior brother. On the contrary, Liu Shiliu appreciated the momentum in Cao Ci, as if he was telling the entire world a truth: I will inevitably be invincible in boxing. Neither will I belittle myself, nor will I be carried away. This is a matter of course. Whether others acknowledge it or not, it's a fact.

As for the little junior brother, after returning home, he has too many distractions. Just the identity of a Qi refiner, especially the multiple life-bound flying swords as a sword cultivator, would be a considerable burden.

The old scholar glared.

Liu Shiliu immediately apologized to his master, "I'm a jinx."

Reciter Xi Ping flashed and appeared at the top of the Confucian Temple steps. These two were fighting. He couldn't let them just ignore the mess, assuming he would clean up. They wouldn't stop until they tore down the Confucian Temple.

Most of the great cultivators who had come for the conference and to watch the excitement had left the Confucian Temple area, returning to their own affairs.

So later, many mountain-peak cultivators regretted missing tonight's excitement.

Who would have thought that after the conference ended, besides those murky mountain conspiracies that were unsettling and made people hurry away, some cultivators who considered themselves not high enough in realm would urge their boats to leave this place of trouble quickly. Who knew there would be such a big spectacle to watch? And that this spar, later praised as the "Azure White Debate," would happen?

White-robed Cao, azure-robed Chen.

These two young grandmasters actually used the Grove of Merit and the Confucian Temple as their boxing ground, throwing punches like dragons, their momentum like a rainbow.

Although Reciter Xi Ping was a bit annoyed, it didn't stop this realm-less man from enjoying the spar from the steps, pulling out a jug of wine.

After all, being able to watch boxing from such a close distance was a rare opportunity.

Once the Confucian Temple conference ended, the gates were closed. Inside the Grove of Merit, besides Old Scholar and his group, a few Confucian sages who needed to stay a few days were still somewhat distant. As for the four ferries, the mountain and river gods and Qi refiners of Pan Shui County, Mandarin Duck Island, etc.—even an immortal or mountain lord or lake lord sensed the commotion and observed from afar—without Xi Ping deliberately hiding it, they couldn't see clearly, due to the scattered fist intent of Cao Ci and Chen Ping'an.

On the Confucian Temple square.

A white rainbow, a streak of azure light. Because their punches and movements were too fast, they wove together into a large web of azure and white light.

This white jade square, which even a Jade Pure sword cultivator could only cut with difficulty, was now full of cracks from the two martial artists' punches. Not to mention the deliberate slamming of fists into the ground. Xi Ping watched with great interest, using it as an accompaniment to his wine, drinking contentedly. Were all tenth realm martial artists in the world this strong, with the strength of dragons and elephants?

If so, then Lin Junbi of Shao Yuan Dynasty, who had been lying drunk on the steps earlier, wasn't such a rude thing compared to these two.

Cao Ci's punches were ethereal and transcendent. He didn't take many hits. Even when his white robes were struck by the azure robes, he quickly diverted the fist intent. But occasionally, he stumbled a few steps—that was normal.

Chen Ping'an's boxing wasn't bad either. He had great momentum. And as for taking punches, he was steady.

He never once fell to the ground and couldn't get up. He would always prop himself up with a finger, palm, or elbow.

And Xi Ping gradually concluded that Chen Ping'an was a bit of a rogue. Light punches didn't matter—he would hit Cao Ci wherever. But whenever he had a chance, if he could land a heavy blow, he always aimed at Cao Ci's face.

So when they finally pulled apart, almost simultaneously exhaling stale and stagnant blood, they quickly exchanged for fresh pure true qi.

Chen Ping'an, his clothes ragged, covered in blood, stood still after landing, unmoving, breathing steadily.

Cao Ci, on the other hand, had a swollen nose and a bruised face, covered in blood.

Cao Ci wiped his face and said angrily, "Are you sick?!"

Putting all your effort into hitting someone in the face—is it fun?"

Chen Ping'an gave his shirt a slight shake with his fist energy, causing the blood on it to scatter like blossoms. He retorted angrily, "Mind your own business!"

Hadn't he to avenge his first disciple?

Inside the pavilion, the old scholar was worried and distressed. He asked, "Jun Qian, isn't that enough?"

Liu Shiliu shook his head, "For both of them, they've just... warmed up. Cao Ci has many self-created fist techniques with flaws that need polishing on the little junior brother's grindstone."

Zuo You nodded, "Chen Ping'an fights by avoiding the heavy and taking the light. That's how he trades wounds for kills on the battlefield. If he wants to win against Cao Ci someday, he must first familiarize himself with Cao Ci's fist path. Cao Ci seems to be pursuing a technique where no matter how many punches, he can stack several or over a dozen into one perfect fist intent, ultimately achieving a mysterious state where one punch won't miss and determines victory or defeat, life or death. So it's perfect—each gets what they need."

Because the boxing was so intense, Li Baoping, Li Huai, and Zheng Youqian all arrived at the pavilion.

Li Huai was sweating profusely. Indeed, martial arts and boxing were not for him. It was better to study.

Zheng Youqian had heard of Cao Ci, someone who killed goblins like flies on the two continent battlefields.

Zheng Youqian couldn't bear to look at his little master uncle anymore. Trembling, he asked Liu Shiliu, "Master, doesn't little master uncle hurt?"

Liu Shiliu laughed, "If those injuries were on someone else, they'd be rolling on the ground. Your little master uncle, he's fine."

As soon as he said that, Liu Shiliu immediately raised his hands to catch his master's slaps, as expected.

Zuo You said calmly, "Simply put, Cao Ci is pursuing a martial realm where boxing is just one punch. Your little master uncle needs to find a way to familiarize, adapt, and then break through this embryonic form of Cao Ci's invincible realm. If we put it more mysteriously..."

Li Baoping seemed to continue from Left Senior Uncle, muttering to herself, "Little master uncle and Cao Ci... they still see no one before them."

Zuo You's eyes showed relief, with a hint of a smile, "Baoping hit the nail on the head."

So the ones truly standing before these two boxers were a future Cao Ci and a future Chen Ping'an.

For Little Baoping's sake, the old scholar raised his hand again but then placed it down, gently patting Zuo You's shoulder.

On the Confucian Temple square.

A group of Confucian masters, including Mr. Li, appeared one by one. They had heard the news and came to drink and watch, using it as an opportunity to relax from their heavy workload.

But those two young fellows, though young, had quite the airs. As if they didn't want too many spectators, they simultaneously shot up to the canopy of heaven to continue boxing.

One streak of azure, one streak of white, journeying together to the canopy, exchanging punches continuously, retreating, then crashing together instantly. Over the Confucian Temple area, thunder rumbled. Many commoners were startled awake, one by one putting on clothes and opening windows to look. The bright moon hung high, with no sign of rain. Could it be another immortal battle? But the sound seemed to come from above the Confucian Temple, not even from the ferry where the immortals gathered. What was going on? Wasn't the Confucian Temple going to intervene?

Reciter Xi Ping did not immediately reverse the River of Time to repair the Confucian Temple square. He put away his wine jug and looked up at the canopy.

An old Confucian scholar squatted on the white jade ground, running his finger along a crack, then looked around at the traces everywhere. He couldn't help exclaiming, "Martial artists fight so fiercely? Did that young Hidden Officer use his sword or not?"

Xi Ping shook his head with a smile, "He didn't use his sword. It's just boxing."

Mr. Li asked via mental message, "Mr. Xi Ping, if that kid used his sword, not restricting himself to a martial artist's identity, how would the fight have turned out?"

Xi Ping said, "Cao Ci would still win, but at a great cost."

It was very possible that there would be no sword immortal Hidden Officer in the world, and at the same time, the future would lose a martial god like Cao Ci.

Mr. Li took a sip of wine and laughed, "I ran into this kid earlier. Had a few words. A very polite and courteous child. You really can't judge by appearances. Acting as Hidden Officer at such a young age, yet he endured cold looks and closed doors without getting angry."

When the young man spoke with the old man, he sat on the steps, hands loosely clasped on his knees, slightly sideways, always looking directly at the other person.

Old men judging young men—they've seen and heard enough of spirited words and bold talk. Everyone was young once; it's nothing special. But it's the small details that old men remember.

So outside the Confucian Temple, many thought of that azure-robed sword immortal as extremely arrogant.

Inside the Confucian Temple, many companion sages and Confucian masters might have seen more.

The young man in a somewhat intact azure robe took a heavy punch, falling straight from the canopy headfirst to the ground. Close to the Confucian Temple roof height, he flipped and landed softly.

The white-robed man then appeared, standing to the side.

Cao Ci clasped his fists in apology to Mr. Xi Ping on the steps, then left.

Chen Ping'an also clasped his fists, then returned to the Grove of Merit.

When Liao Qing'ai saw Cao Ci, she didn't worry at all that her junior brother would lose. Her first words were, "I said I'd box with him within thirty years. Was I overestimating myself?"

But as soon as she said this, Liao Qing'ai, as the senior sister, felt a bit uneasy in front of her junior brother Cao Ci. Like a student facing a teacher.

And in recent years, because their master Pei Bei was often away, busy with military and state affairs, or stationed at ferries in the Barren Wilderness, Liao Qing'ai had actually sparred and consulted with Cao Ci many times. Naturally, Cao Ci taught her and fed her punches. Although they were senior and junior sister-brother, sometimes Liao Qing'ai subconsciously regarded Cao Ci as half a master.

Cao Ci smiled, "Senior sister, having that thought is only human. Nothing to be embarrassed about. If you can completely dismiss the idea, I think that would be the first punch of boxing with Chen Ping'an—not a bad thing, but a good thing."

Hearing this, Liao Qing'ai felt no burden at all.

She looked at this "unfamiliar" junior brother. In her memory, Cao Ci had never been so disheveled.

Cao Ci said with a straight face, "Chen Ping'an is much worse off than me."

After saying this, Cao Ci seemed to think it was a bit funny, so he smiled.

Liao Qing'ai looked at this junior brother. She wondered what woman in the world could match the man in white beside him.

Back at the pavilion, Liu Shiliu placed a hand on Chen Ping'an's shoulder, examining the subtle signs in his little junior brother's personal small world of mountains and rivers. He nodded and said, "It's fine. Rest a few days, no big problem. But don't fight anyone for a while, or there will be aftereffects. Be serious."

Chen Ping'an nodded to Senior Brother Jun Qian, then turned to Li Baoping and the others, smiling, "It's fine. Don't worry."

His teeth seemed to be chattering a little; his speech was somewhat slurred.

Zuo You told Li Baoping, Li Huai, and Zheng Youqian to leave the pavilion first.

After the spar, Chen Ping'an's blood qi, sword qi, and killing intent were too heavy, aside from his injuries.

Especially Zheng Youqian, who immediately turned pale when the little master uncle appeared at the pavilion.

Only then did Jun Qian take out a porcelain bottle and hand it to Chen Ping'an, "Three pills a day, roughly with meals. After a month, reduce by one or two pills. Judge based on your body's recovery."

Chen Ping'an's right hand hung limp. He sat dejectedly on the bench, using his left hand to open the bottle, shake out a pill, and toss it into his mouth.

The old scholar sat beside him, beaming, giving his closed-door disciple a thumbs-up.

Learning boxing, practicing swords, studying, composing poetry and carving seals, doing business, finding a wife, expanding the literary lineage—he was strong in everything.

Chen Ping'an grinned at his master.

In fact, when it came to treating and nursing injuries, Chen Ping'an was even more of an expert.

So that night, he returned to his lodgings, familiar with the routine, step by step.

In the wee hours, Chen Ping'an opened his eyes. He hesitated but didn't speak.

His master seemed to have come for a walk alone in the middle of the night, just stopping for a moment, not lingering.

Chen Ping'an continued to concentrate, forming a sword mudra, sitting on a cushion.

That morning, Chen Ping'an walked out of the room and found only Senior Brother Zuo You sitting in the courtyard, reading a book.

Zuo You glanced at Chen Ping'an and said, "I told Baoping and the others not to rush over. They can come this afternoon."

Zuo You continued reading.

Chen Ping'an sat down beside him, hesitating to speak.

Zuo You didn't look up, "If you have something to say, say it."

Chen Ping'an plucked up his courage, "Senior Brother knows roughly what kind of person Jiang Longxiang is. But it's hard for Senior Brother to truly make an enemy of Jiang Longxiang."

Zuo You put down his book, turned around, and asked, "What do you mean?"

Chen Ping'an gave his answer from the heart, "Because Senior Brother is a scholar. No matter how high his swordsmanship, he still follows rules and observes propriety when striking. And Senior Brother doesn't know exactly what Jiang Longxiang has done—bad things, good things—not clearly. As for whether Jiang Longxiang's good deeds are intentional charity or fame-seeking in the court and countryside, Senior Brother knows even less. Not knowing, Senior Brother feels constrained when facing these people and matters."

Zuo You's expression was blank, but he didn't stop his little junior brother from lecturing him.

"I know."

Chen Ping'an continued, "I'm like Jiang Longxiang's accountant. I keep his accounts for free—the kind where even if Jiang Longxiang pays me not to, I won't stop. So dealing with someone like Jiang Longxiang, I'm much better at it than you. I know how to make them truly feel pain. If they suffer once at my hands, they'll have a lifelong fear.

"Think of evil being punished by evil—no, that's not right either. Use evil deeds to grind evil people. Requite injury with justice, require kindness with kindness."

Saying this, Chen Ping'an was mentally prepared for his senior brother's anger.

After all, it was somewhat disrespectful.

But he had to say it. He had wanted to for a long time.

Zuo You said, "Continue."

In the distance, the old scholar and Jun Qian were hiding, watching the scene through a handheld painting. The master and his student held their breath, staring intently... watching the drama.

Here, Chen Ping'an said tremblingly, "Senior Brother, I've said my piece. Whether it counts as reasoning is up to you."

Zuo You looked at Chen Ping'an and suddenly laughed.

Chen Ping'an had never seen that expression in his senior brother's eyes before.

In his memory, Left Senior Brother only made such expressions for a few of the younger generation.

Zuo You smiled and nodded, "Your reading hasn't been in vain. You can even reason with your senior brother."

Chen Ping'an was still a bit habitually uneasy, "Is Senior Brother speaking sincerely, or is he secretly keeping accounts in his heart?"

After all, the accountant of their literary lineage had always been this senior brother.

Zuo You shook his head, "As a junior brother, you can't always feel inferior to your senior brother. If you only cower in front of me, what's the point of Master accepting you as his closed-door disciple?"

In the distance, the old scholar looked at the painting in Jun Qian's hand and couldn't help scolding, "You talk too much and put on airs."

Liu Shiliu nodded in agreement, "Left Senior Brother should change. Always bullying the little junior brother—I can't stand it anymore."

The old scholar said, "Hey, how come you didn't say that in front of Zuo You?"

Liu Shiliu replied, "Since Master is present, it's not the student's place to speak up."

The old scholar nodded, very satisfied.

This big, simple guy was actually the one who suffered the least. He always watched the excitement without getting scolded or beaten.

The old scholar stood up and waved his hand, "Come on. Let's go back up your little junior brother."

Liu Shiliu followed behind.

The two senior and junior brothers. Chen Ping'an hesitated, "The reason I'm saying this is that I hope Senior Brother won't get angry if he hears certain things on the Sword Qi Great Wall in the future."

Zuo You said, "Like Bottle Gourd Prefecture, Parasol Leaf Prefecture?"

Chen Ping'an nodded, "There might be many things that aren't done so much in keeping with a scholar's identity."

Zuo You said, "Have you beaten Song Changjing of Great Li, or Wei Ying of Jade Gui Sect?"

Chen Ping'an was confused. He shook his head, "Not yet."

Zuo You didn't bother to say more and continued reading.

Chen Ping'an thought for a long time before understanding his senior brother's implication.

On the Sword Qi Great Wall or in the Barren Wilderness, if his senior brother heard certain things, generally he wouldn't pay attention, just ignore them.

So what Zuo You cared about wasn't the rumors Chen Ping'an imagined, but whether his little junior brother had gotten into disputes in the Hao Ran World, and whether he could win. If he couldn't, then he, as senior brother, would go ask with his sword.

On the old scholar's way over, he happened to miss these last few lines, so he launched into a lecture as soon as he arrived: "Bullying your junior brother—what kind of skill is that? When the master hasn't spoken, who are you to?"

Zuo You didn't dare talk back to his master at all. Instead, he smiled at Chen Ping'an.

This debt will go on your account.

Chen Ping'an immediately understood. The master had added unnecessary details.

That day, at noon, thanks to the great face of Li Huai, Tender Daoist never dared to dream that one day he could swagger into the Grove of Merit of the Central Earth Confucian Temple.

The first thing Tender Daoist did upon entering the Grove of Merit wasn't to look for Li Huai, but to go directly to the one with the highest seniority in the Wen Sheng lineage—the old scholar.

Otherwise, he could look for the oldest and toughest, Liu Shiliu?

Or Zuo You, who had chased Xiao Xun all the way beyond the heavens?

As for Chen Ping'an, their relationship was average—not close.

After a pleasant conversation with the old scholar, Tender Daoist left satisfied. Privately, he sighed to Li Huai, "Old Master Wen Sheng's learning is still very high."

Li Huai found it strange, "Old Tender, you only had a few words with him. How can you tell?"

Tender Daoist said, "I could understand all those truths the Wen Sheng spoke."

Finally, the old master asked Tender Daoist from the Barren Wilderness a question: "Same truth. When Sage Li stands before you, you find it reasonable. When a mundane scholar tells you, you don't think it reasonable. Is that right?"

Tender Daoist gave his honest answer at the time: "Of course, it's not right. But for myself, to be honest, I would still only listen to Sage Li's reasoning."

Tender Daoist felt that by saying this, he had screwed up with the Wen Sheng. But he didn't regret it. Rather than lie to the old scholar, it was better to speak directly.

Besides, were scholars easy to deceive? Of course not. Since he couldn't deceive the other, he shouldn't deceive himself.

But the old scholar didn't get angry at all. Instead, he said, "Not fully good, but still a little good. Then there will be time later for the gentleman to be good to the good and evil to the evil."

Tender Daoist didn't dare stay long in the Grove of Merit. He quickly found an excuse to leave.

Having had such a pleasant talk with the old scholar, it was comparable to discussing learning with the Wen Sheng. He was very satisfied.

Gu QingSong and Liu DaoChun, those two fellow Daoists, clearly lacked this ability.

In the afternoon, when Li Baoping and the others came to see him, Chen Ping'an said, "How about we go to the highest place in the Grove of Merit and chat?"

Li Baoping's eyes lit up.

The highest point in the Grove of Merit was not the chess pavilion, nor the library building, but an ancient cypress.

Li Baoping led the way.

Zheng Youqian thought this senior sister's knowledge was very broad; she even knew that.

So Chen Ping'an, Li Baoping, Li Huai, and Zheng Youqian all sat on the branches of that ancient cypress, just chatting idly.

As their little master uncle, Chen Ping'an said whatever came to mind.

He said, "I never imagined I would become the person I am now."

There was no way to have thought it out beforehand. It wasn't that I particularly wanted to be this way. If I could, I would be willing to trade many precious things for one or two of the most precious. But when I see you all, I feel it's been worth it. I have no complaints. It's already very good.

Spreading his palm, Chen Ping'an joked, "In this hand, there is sunlight, moonlight, autumn wind, spring wind."

He also said, "Practice refining the matters of the world, break the thief of hesitation in my heart."

...

That evening, aside from the old scholar, all the students and disciples had packed their bags, ready to leave the Confucian Temple for their own travels.

Zuo You asked, "Master, what can the student do?"

"Why ask that? Not needed."

The old scholar laughed, "But you can ask yourself: as the senior brother, what can you do?"

Zuo You was silent for a moment. "The little junior brother can always take care of himself. I'm very at ease."

Chen Ping'an felt flattered. After hesitating for a long time, he could only say, "Senior Brother overpraises me."

Zuo You said, "Accept it."

Chen Ping'an said, "Alright."

Where there is gathering, there is parting.

Life seems to be full of ferries where willows are broken in farewell.

Zuo You would return to the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Liu Shiliu said he would take Zheng Youqian first to the Western Buddha Kingdom. He had already found a cultivation ground for his first disciple. Then he would go alone to the Azure Underworld to find his friend Bai Ye.

Mao Xiaodong would stay at the Rites Academy, teaching Confucian students.

Chen Ping'an needed to return to the Night Boat immediately.

Li Baoping and Li Huai would return together to the Cliff Academy in Great Sui's capital.

Every direct disciple and grand-disciple had their own best qualities. In the old man's eyes, they were all the best.

So the old scholar's final parting words were just a smile: "Take care of yourselves. Be safe."

When everyone had left.

The old scholar sat alone in the pavilion. But this time, the old man didn't feel too much parting sadness. Instead, he looked forward to the next reunion.

He just remembered that his closed-door disciple had been sitting on a high branch earlier, drinking wine, casually improvising a small poem to Little Baoping and the others.

It was extremely beautiful.

"An orchid in the mountain deep.

It never saw the worldly folk, nor they it.

Should it then not bloom?"