Chapter 808: Heartfelt Words
The three departed, leaving only Chen Ping'an, now a man belonging to the outside world of the Mountain and Sea Sect, sitting alone at the edge of the cliff, gazing into the distance.
Where the mortal world met the sea cliffs, mountain light merged with water light. A traveler in green robes carrying a sword on his back, letting the clear wind and bright moon be his to command.
In history, the Mountain and Sea Sect had changed its sect name, but only by one character, altering "River" to "Sea". Yet old cultivators in the Middle Earth Divine Continent still habitually called it the Mountain and River Sect.
Unfortunately, he hadn't encountered that female patriarch today. She was said to be a disciple through several generations of the sect master, Nalan Xianxiu. Otherwise, he might have had the chance to find out which senior brother she favored.
Whether it was Cui Chan, Zuo You, or any other senior brother, it seemed like good taste regardless.
Chen Ping'an stood up, waiting for the arrival of the Night Traveler Ship. In at most the time it takes an incense stick to burn, he could board.
At the cliff's edge, a lone figure in green robes stood in solitary silence.
Remembering what the Ritual Sage had said earlier, Chen Ping'an let his thoughts drift, allowing chaotic notions to rise and fall like ripples stirred by wind across a lake of the heart.
Flipping through books, one doesn't know the hardships of scripture-seeking, and often takes the scriptures lightly.
He recalled the patch of balsam flowers in front of Liu Xianyang's house. Once, during a heavy rainstorm, all the ditches in the small town flooded, and the flowers were washed away. Chen Ping'an felt it was a great pity. But Liu Xianyang himself, the owner of those flowers, wasn't particularly grieved. He said what's gone is gone. Gu Can felt the most regret and heartache. On the way home, he kept complaining to Chen Ping'an, saying if they had known earlier, they should have moved the flowers to his place and left them there; maybe they'd still be blooming beautifully now.
Thinking of that padded-cotton-clothed, round-faced girl who used the alias Yu Qianyue, Chen Ping'an naturally thought of Liu Xianyang's ancestral home. Inside it, there was actually a heirloom large cabinet, exquisitely crafted, an old piece decorated with colored painting and gold-carved flowers. On the back panel of the cabinet was inlaid a pattern: a golden osmanthus tree in full bloom, with a full moon hanging from its branches. Chen Ping'an didn't know how to explain this kind of thing. A thousand li of marriage tied by a single thread? Was it fate, that Liu Xianyang and She Yue, even if separated by the entire world, would still end up together? He hoped they would have a good meeting without parting, and tie the knot of happy marriage.
Han Qiaose of White Emperor City had bought a heavy ghost cultivator artifact at the Parrot Islet Baggage Studio. When Chen Ping'an heard about this in the Merit Forest, he stopped asking Xi Ping about the Baggage Studio's business dealings every few days.
And Chen Ping'an's own life could no longer be blocked by a flooded creek.
Chen Ping'an suddenly turned his head, quite surprised. Had she never gone to that place beyond the heavens to practice swordsmanship, or had she just returned to Haoran?
The white-clad woman, leaning on her sword with one hand, gazed into the distance and laughed, "In the blink of an eye, ten thousand years pass, and another ten thousand."
Chen Ping'an nodded, "It seems like in the blink of an eye, I'm five, and then forty-one again."
She asked, "Does the master know that this place was once a relatively important spot where techniques fell?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head, "No, I didn't see it in the Summer Resort archives, and neither the teachers nor the senior brothers at the Wen Temple mentioned it."
She roughly explained the long-sealed truth to Chen Ping'an. This place of the Mountain and Sea Sect was once an ancient battlefield. It was the final battleground of that conflict between Water and Fire, hence the endless Dao intent, the scattered techniques, falling into the mortal world. The manifested Dao aura became the immortal opportunities for cultivators in later generations.
But matters like this were not much recorded at the Wen Temple; only the successive attendant saints could peruse them. Even the academy headmasters might not know.
She laughed, "In that Five Colors World, a natural born cultivation seedling capable of suppressing Ning Yao will definitely appear in the future. It certainly won't be a swordsman. They share a conflict of the Great Dao with Ning Yao, so tell Ning Yao not to be complacent, not to think that becoming a Flying Ascension Realm swordsman means she can rest easy from now on. She won't remain undefeated forever in the Five Colors World."
Chen Ping'an asked, "Is this person one of the greatest fortune-gatherers of the Five Colors World? Do the Daoist forces, including the White Jade Capital, have the best chance of obtaining this person?"
Even if such a person really existed, whether it was Ning Yao, himself Chen Ping'an, or an entire Flying Ascension City, even if they knew of this celestial secret in advance, they would not engage in the mountain planning of deducing the Great Dao through Yin-Yang evolution and then uprooting the weeds.
She nodded, "From the current perspective, the Daoist sect has a higher probability. But who ultimately obtains them is not a fixed number. Humans and gods coexist; anomalies dwell together. Heaven's fortune is still dim and unclear. As for the other pieces of Dao fortune, what exactly they are, it's hard to say for now. It could be the manifestation of Heavenly Timeliness as some object. Whoever obtains it receives the Dao protection of an entire world. It could also be some kind of Earthly Advantage, like a blessed cave or paradise that even Bai Ye and Old Scholar failed to discover, capable of supporting the cultivation growth of a 14th realm Grand Cultivator. Anyway, Ning Yao killing the upper-level god, the One-Eyed, can be considered as having obtained one of them. At the very least, she'll have a few hundred years of time to secure her position as the number one under heaven. She should be satisfied. If she can't break through to the next realm during this period and someone else takes the top spot, she can't blame anyone else."
She laughed, "Did that Little Master not tell the master about these things?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head, "The Ritual Sage didn't talk about these, and I didn't dare to ask too much."
She said, "Indeed, it's Little Master, not very generous."
The term "Little Master" was originally Bai Ze's nickname for the Ritual Sage.
Only cultivators who wrote the old almanac, rather than flipping through it, were qualified to address the Ritual Sage this way.
Like her beside Chen Ping'an, a former one of the Five Supremes of the Heavenly Court, the Sword Bearer.
Chen Ping'an tactfully changed the subject, "Part of the reason the Armor Bearer was utterly slain by you beyond the heavens is because there's a new Armor Bearer within the Heavenly Court ruins, isn't it?"
To put it simply, the higher the god's status, the more it's like one radish, one hole.
Tuoyue Mountain Grand Ancestor's closed-door disciple, Li Zhen, once a swordsman of the Sword Qi Great Wall, Guan Zhao.
His innate flying sword, the River of Time, was too profound, making Li Zhen naturally suitable to become the new Armor Bearer.
Chen Ping'an didn't use his Caged Sparrow sword to shield these words, nor did he even use telepathy. He just spoke whatever he wanted.
With her present.
Who would dare, or who could, spy on this place?
She hummed in agreement, gently tapping her sword hilt with her palm, and said, "That's right. Zhou Mi propped up that Guan Zhao, destabilizing my old friend's divine position. Coupled with the earlier attack on Haoran, where he had a fierce battle with the Ritual Sage, it all affected his combat power. But these aren't the real reasons he was slain by me. His killing power was inferior to mine, but in terms of defense, he was truly unbreakable. He could be injured; even if I struck with my sword, his golden body fragments would scatter and splatter, manifesting into heavenly rivers. But truly killing him was still very difficult, unless I pursued him for thousands of years. I don't have that kind of patience."
In fact, after the battle, far off in the heavens, a brand new golden river had indeed appeared, stretching for millions of li.
The implication of her words was that the Armor Bearer had sought death himself, ultimately voluntarily giving up that illustrious divine position to Li Zhen, or more accurately, to Zhou Mi.
If the Sword Bearer and the Ritual Sage had not succeeded in stopping the Armor Bearer from returning home, allowing him to re-enter the old Heavenly Court ruins, with Zhou Mi's disposition, Li Zhen's fate would probably not have been good.
Chen Ping'an asked softly, "Had to personally slay the Armor Bearer. Does it make you sad?"
The Sword Bearer and the Armor Bearer had fought side by side for ten thousand years. As she said, they were old friends.
She shook her head, explaining, "Not sad. The golden body itself is a cage. For low-level gods, the golden body dissolves into the River of Time. But the death and Dao-dissipation of a high-level god is a kind of distant journey that later cultivators cannot comprehend—both body and mind gain freedom. The pitiable aspect of the old gods was that their words, actions, and even all their thoughts strictly followed established patterns. Over time, this actually became not a very interesting thing. It was like the meaning of existence was merely to exist. And so the immortality that later generations of cultivators tirelessly pursued became a great cage in our eyes."
Chen Ping'an took out his Sword-Nurturing Gourd, took a sip of wine, and murmured, "Can it be understood this way: compared to you gods, humans can make mistakes and also correct them. So morality becomes a kind of freedom within our hearts?"
She laughed, "Being able to think that way is itself a form of freedom."
Just as Chen Ping'an was about to speak, she raised her long sword and said, "This time, I really am leaving."
The tall figure of the woman in white transformed into tens of millions of sword lights of pure white, scattering in all directions, ignoring the Mountain and Sea Sect's array restrictions. They eventually coalesced into a figure against the sky, overlooking the mortal world.
Chen Ping'an silently memorized the complex trajectories of those scattered sword lights, then tucked the Sword-Nurturing Gourd back at his waist, raised his head, and waved farewell to her.
The next moment, Chen Ping'an steered his sword heart, silently recited the Daoist formula, and his form instantly transformed into hundreds of sword lights, like a green lotus blooming at the cliff's edge. Then it spread out over the sea beyond the cliff.
Eventually, the sword light crashed into the mountain-water grand formation, like a person hitting a wall. It wobbled, the sword light condensed back into a human form, and fell straight into the sea.
In the distance, within a tall building of the Mountain and Sea Sect, Nalan Xianxiu, holding a tobacco pipe, blew out a puff of smoke and exclaimed in wonder, "What an excellent escape technique!"
She waved her sleeve, opening the formation's restrictions. A figure in green robes leaped up from the water's surface. Instead of riding the wind away, he ran across the water's surface.
In the distance, the Night Traveler Ship revealed its form. Chen Ping'an lightly skimmed the water like a dragonfly, leaping onto the ship's bow. As his feet touched down, he arrived at a strange city.
Chen Ping'an stood under an eaves, focusing his gaze. He noticed that at a bustling thoroughfare not far away, there was a dense crowd. There seemed to be a fighting platform where two mortal martial artists had just signed a life-or-death pact with brushes. One of them, a burly man, exuded heroic spirit. He wrote his name, probably so illegibly he himself couldn't recognize it, and then angrily threw the brush. The scholar responsible for collecting the two life-or-death pacts hurriedly picked up the fallen brush from the ground, cursing under his breath. Brute! Barbarian!
Ning Yao and the other three were over there watching the excitement. They hadn't gone into the crowd but were at the second floor of a nearby wine house, watching the martial artists fight on the platform.
Ning Yao and Pei Qian were fine, standing by the window. Little Millet and the White-Haired Lad could only poke out their two little heads.
When Chen Ping'an appeared in this city, Ning Yao immediately turned her head, looking toward the green-robed, sword-carrying figure in the street.
Chen Ping'an waved his hand, signaling for them to stay where they were; he would come to them.
When he reached the second floor, Chen Ping'an noticed that the tables near Ning Yao's table were occupied by some self-styled romantic young talents and dandies. They had no interest in the platform fight but were chatting and laughing, telling tales of renowned martial artists' exploits in the martial world. The real interest was elsewhere; they chatted about famous and long-established grandmasters, the free-spirited wanderers of the martial world, always managing to subtly mention themselves or their own masters—how they had been lucky enough to drink together, or had been instructed by some Sword Immortal or Divine Fist master.
Ning Yao turned and sat back down in her original seat. Pei Qian smiled and nodded to her master. When Little Millet saw her good Mountain Lord, she pursed her lips and smiled. The White-Haired Lad saw the Hidden Master Ancestor and looked tragically on the verge of tears.
Chen Ping'an intended to sit beside Ning Yao, but Little Millet had already given up her stool. The White-Haired Lad, a step too slow, vigorously wiped the stool with his sleeve, gently blowing on it as if to remove dust.
Chen Ping'an took a bowl of wine handed to him by Pei Qian and asked with a smile, "Where is this?"
Pei Qian said in a low voice, "Peaceful City."
Also known as the Sixty-Year City, one of the four mid-cities.
It was the only place on the Night Traveler Ship without any cultivators. Mortals rarely lived past seventy. Probably any Middle Five Realm cultivator, not even necessarily an Earth Immortal, just someone with the Sea Observation Realm cultivation, would be the number one under heaven here.
Chen Ping'an laughed, "Why did you come to wander around here?"
Ning Yao said through telepathy, "We were in Numinous Rhinoceros City, where we met the Punishment Officer Hao Su, who had rushed over from Visage City."
Chen Ping'an nodded. Noticing that Ning Yao's wine bowl still had plenty, he didn't help her refill. Pei Qian drinking was fine—she was a martial artist after all. But he saw that even Little Millet was drinking. However, as soon as Chen Ping'an's gaze reached her, she guiltily covered her wine bowl. "It's water, not wine. I don't even know what wine tastes like. I can't drink it properly; it's not good to drink, so it's not good. It's very spicy. Only idiots spend money to buy wine to drink..."
The White-Haired Lad sitting next to Little Millet said gleefully, "Right, right, right. Only idiots spend money to drink wine."
Chen Ping'an smiled, "You're picking up the tab later."
The White-Haired Lad was deflated. Then he raised his wine bowl, his face full of flattery. "Hidden Master Ancestor, your knowledge is profound, your plans are deep. This trip to the Wen Temple must have been a complete show of brilliance, making your name known throughout the world! I toast to that!"
Chen Ping'an shook his head and took a sip of wine, frowning slightly.
Ning Yao asked, "What's wrong? Did you get into a fight with someone?"
Chen Ping'an laughed, "Fought a few fights, mainly that one with Cao Ci. I got a bit hurt."
Pei Qian pricked up her ears.
Chen Ping'an took out the porcelain bottle given to him by Senior Brother Jun Qian, poured out a pill, popped it into his mouth, and swallowed it with wine. "Cao Ci is still formidable. I lost."
Upon hearing that it was a fistfight with Cao Ci, Ning Yao wasn't too worried about Chen Ping'an. They would have fought with restraint. And looking at Chen Ping'an now, there was no sign of listlessness. Instead, his fist intent seemed even more refined. It was a good thing.
Chen Ping'an suppressed a grin and said to Pei Qian, "Although I lost the fistfight, I beat Cao Ci's face into a pig's head. Not a loss."
Pei Qian scratched her head. "Didn't Master say that cursing people by exposing their faults and hitting people in the face were both major taboos in the martial world?"
Chen Ping'an said, "Why be polite with Cao Ci? We're old friends."
Pei Qian grinned.
As they drank, Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao each spoke to each other using telepathy.
The White-Haired Lad, pulling the dwarf-like Little Millet, went to continue watching the platform fight. Little Millet accompanied the dwarf, tiptoeing, leaning on the window sill, looking at the platform where there were grunts and shouts, fists and kicks flying.
Chen Ping'an gave a general account of the Wen Temple council, and Ning Yao relayed the Punishment Officer Hao Su's warning.
Ning Yao finally remembered something. "Other than a few cultivators who chose to stay on the Night Traveler Ship, that Da Jiao Mountain ferry boat, along with everyone else on it, has been released by Master Zhang."
Chen Ping'an laughed, "Survived a disaster, just a false alarm—that's the best kind of cultivation. So it seems your reputation is greater. If it had been me, that boat master might not have shown up at all, and even if he did, he'd definitely have tried to haggle sky-high with me."
Not every swordsman could casually cut open a ferry boat's restrictions with their sword.
This was the Night Traveler Ship's master, Master Zhang's, respect for the number one person of a brand new world.
Ning Yao said irritably, "Obviously it was because of the Ritual Sage's face. It has nothing to do with me."
Chen Ping'an smiled brilliantly. "That's true. In this council, I might have been the only one whom the Ritual Sage personally saw off and welcomed."
Ning Yao smiled faintly. "Such great ambition."
An old scholar suddenly appeared out of thin air beside their table, smiling as he asked, "Could I possibly trouble Mr. Chen and Miss Ning for a bowl of wine?"
His sudden appearance seemed to go completely unnoticed by the other patrons near the table, even those who had been eyeing Chen Ping'an, the obvious outsider drinker, as if it were only natural and proper all along.
Chen Ping'an cupped his fists and smiled, "Greetings, Ship Master Zhang. Please, sit anywhere."
After Master Zhang sat down, he took a cup from his sleeve. The wine filled itself. Was it a Wine Spring Cup?
Chen Ping'an asked, "Could I trouble the Ship Master to pass a message to the two city lords of Rooster Dog City and White Eye City? I might not be going there for the time being. When I board the ship next time, I will definitely pay a visit."
Master Zhang nodded. "No problem."
Chen Ping'an asked again, "Could I open a shop in Item City?"
Master Zhang was still very accommodating. "Welcome."
On Osmanthus Island, Chen Ping'an owned a gui vein courtyard under his name. Spring Dew Garden also had a Jade Ying Cliff, where he had opened an Ant Shop.
On this journey through North Juzhou, he might also negotiate with the Dragon Palace Cave Heaven about "leasing" a certain island.
It was that Duckweed Island, which had been without an owner for many years.
Chen Ping'an placed great importance on that landscape. He planned to occasionally go there for secluded cultivation in the future years of his cultivation career.
Regardless, he hoped to be able to take it into his fold, whether by purchasing it with Immortal Coins or by relying on connections and goodwill. He would try everything.
The Dragon Palace Cave Heaven was divided among three powers: the near-water-first Water Dragon Sect, Li Cai's Duckweed Sword Lake, the Great Origin Dynasty's Chongxuan Office, and then Shen Lin of the Southern Xun Water Palace, who had been promoted to Grand River Lingyuan Lord, and Li Yuan, the old Grand River Water Director who had been appointed Dragon Pavilion Marquis. At the earlier Wen Temple council, the Great Origin State Preceptor Yang Qingkong had taken the initiative to visit the Merit Forest. So, aside from the North and South sects of the Water Dragon Sect, Chen Ping'an had already established connections with the rest. Leasing, or even directly buying, Duckweed Island was a possibility.
As long as the Water Dragon Sect was willing to nod in agreement, Chen Ping'an now had the means to make money with the Water Dragon Sect elsewhere.
If he also had a foothold similar to a ferry port on this Night Traveler Ship, that would be even better.
In the future, when he had leisure time from mountain cultivation, besides working as a schoolteacher and fishing, there was one more thing: to travel the Night Traveler Ship as many times as possible. Because there were many books here, and even more ancient stories. If he was fortunate enough to go a step further and open a shop here directly, he could board the ship with even more legitimacy. Why should Shao Baojuan be allowed to be a city lord, and he not be allowed to open a shop and do business?
Master Zhang said, "I have an idea. Would Mr. Chen like to hear it?"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Ship Master, please, go ahead."
Master Zhang said, "Mr. Lin'an of Numinous Rhinoceros City wishes to abdicate the city lord position to Mr. Chen. What do you think?"
Chen Ping'an turned his head to look at Ning Yao.
Ning Yao said, "It has nothing to do with me. I did talk quite well with Lady Li when I visited Numinous Rhinoceros City, but it's unlikely she would just give away a city like that."
Master Zhang revealed the truth. "It was Fairy Immortal Raft who first boarded and proposed it. Mr. Lin'an thought it was feasible, and I respect Mr. Lin'an's decision."
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "I don't have the talent for divine dream-traveling like Shao Baojuan. If I became the city lord of Numinous Rhinoceros City, I'd only be a useless absentee manager, and I would betray Mr. Lin'an's heavy trust. I don't think it's a good idea. Having a bookshop in Item City is satisfying enough."
Master Zhang laughed. "The city lord position can be left vacant for now. There are two deputy city lords to handle the specific affairs. Even when Mr. Lin'an was city lord all those years, he never dealt with mundane business, and Numinous Rhinoceros City operated without a hitch."
Chen Ping'an was stunned for a moment. "Master Zhang, why didn't you say so earlier?!"
Master Zhang just smiled, raised his cup, and drank contentedly.
Oh, now he calls him "Master," instead of the distant "Ship Master Zhang"?
Master Zhang asked, "Opening a shop, becoming the shopkeeper. What kind of business do you plan to do?"
Chen Ping'an said, "Writing character biographies. And following the existing rules of Item City on the Night Traveler Ship, buying and selling books."
Master Zhang nodded. "Feasible. When will you disembark?"
Chen Ping'an said, "It depends on when the Night Traveler Ship docks at Skeleton Beach."
Master Zhang put away his cup and laughed. "We need to make a slight detour. It'll take about an hour."
Chen Ping'an calculated mentally, correlating the location where Ning Yao's sword light had appeared earlier, the Guixu Ferry mentioned by the Ritual Sage, the distance between the Middle Earth Mountain and Sea Sect and North Juzhou's Skeleton Beach, and roughly deduced the Night Traveler Ship's navigation speed.
Master Zhang stood up to take his leave, but left Chen Ping'an a stack of golden talismans. However, the topmost one was a talisman paper of green material, painted with a map of Haoran's Nine Provinces and Rivers. One tiny speck of golden light was "slowly" moving across the talisman paper. Was this the Night Traveler Ship's whereabouts on the Haoran world sea? The remaining golden talismans were probably future boarding passes for Chen Ping'an?
Chen Ping'an stood up, thanked him, and cupped his fists in farewell.
Master Zhang smiled and reminded him, "Mr. Chen is a scholar of the Wen Temple, but the relationship between the Night Traveler Ship and the Wen Temple has always been average. So, it's best not to bring this green talisman near the Wen Temple. If possible, don't even take it out to show people. As for the method of boarding the ship, it's very simple. Mr. Chen only needs to crush a 'Ferry Talisman' at sea, then gather spiritual energy and infuse that speck of golden light on the green talisman. The Night Traveler Ship will naturally approach and find Mr. Chen. The Ferry Talisman is easy to learn and easy to draw. After using up the twelve, Mr. Chen will need to draw his own."
After Master Zhang left, Ning Yao cast a questioning glance at Chen Ping'an.
Chen Ping'an put all the talismans into his sleeve and said, "First, strive for a relationship that's neither friend nor foe. Then have a bit of business dealings, adding flowers to each other's brocade."
Ning Yao nodded.
Then she didn't need to overthink the matters of the Night Traveler Ship. He was good at these things.
By the window, the White-Haired Lad was declaring that she was also a master and was going to fly over and challenge the platform defenders. She wanted to win a title of "unbeatable under heaven" for their Hidden Master Ancestor, so their trip wouldn't be in vain. She could humbly claim to be just one of Hidden Master Ancestor's disciples, and the most useless one at that.
Little Millet was strenuously holding onto the White-Haired Lad, preventing her from causing trouble, wobbling and leaning back towards their table.
The White-Haired Lad's legs kicked wildly as she clamored. The little girl in black said no, no, this isn't how you build a martial world reputation.
Chen Ping'an didn't stop their ruckus. He was thinking about the Punishment Officer's so-called twenty people.
Hao Su himself, Zheng Yang Mountain's Tian Wan, the Three Mountains Blessed Land's Immortal Han Yushu. Very possibly, plus someone from Qiong Lin Sect.
Since Punishment Officer Hao Su had come to the Night Traveler Ship and stayed in Visage City for quite a while, then the Visage City Lord, using the alias Shao Baojuan. This person might be an alternate member, ready to fill any vacancies at any time.
Of course, it was also possible he was a formal member, one of the twenty, but very well hidden. If so, Shao Baojuan's step-by-step schemes against him in Item City would have a sufficient reason.
And the Qiong Lin Sect had a deep connection with the great Northern North Juzhou Sword Immortal Bai Shang and his direct disciple Xu Xuan. Because Xu Xuan was the Qiong Lin Sect's behind-the-scenes controller. This was something Liu Jinglong had warned him about. Otherwise, with the Qiong Lin Sect Master's Jade Pure Realm cultivation, he would have long been beaten to a pulp by the local Sword Immortals and martial Grandmasters who didn't like him. How many cultivators and pure martial artists in North Juzhou were easy to talk to? They often hit people with sacks and clubs, or bombarded other sects' Ancestor Halls with techniques and flying swords like rain, without needing a reason.
The Qiong Lin Sect's business empire was vast, spanning mountains and the mortal world, covering the entire continent of North Juzhou, and even having considerable holdings in Bai'ai Continent and Bottle Gourd Continent. Just the immortal mansions on the mountains neighboring Sharpening Stone Mountain were a veritable mountain of gold and silver.
When the Qiong Lin Sect initially approached the Multicolored Bird Manor regarding the Dharma robes, they repeatedly offered excellent terms and always seemed very easy to deal with. Even after being rejected multiple times by the Multicolored Bird Manor, they didn't seem to cause any trouble behind the scenes afterwards. It seemed their real intention wasn't just the wine, but the Fallen Mountain. Was it that the Qiong Lin Sect was afraid of startling the snake? Hence they were so restrained and subtle?
Chen Ping'an didn't even rule out the possibility that, assuming the Qiong Lin Sect Master was truly one of the twenty, there might be a second person hiding deeper within the sect.
While thinking through these matters, Chen Ping'an said to Pei Qian, "When we get back, I'll teach you a fist technique. You must study it well. Later, when you go to Pu Mountain Thatched Cottage to consult Senior Huang Yiyun on fist techniques, you can use this fist."
Pei Qian looked a bit nervous. After nodding, she secretly took a sip of wine to calm her nerves.
Chen Ping'an stood up. "Let's leave the city and find a quiet place. I'll teach the fist technique."
The White-Haired Lad's eyes darted, and she swaggered forward to lead the way.
But was caught by Little Millet, who held her back. "Pay the bill, don't forget to pay the bill."
The White-Haired Lad sighed mournfully, whispered with Little Millet for a bit, and borrowed some loose silver.
Little Millet handed over the money. Then she immediately took from her book box some fine charcoal pencils, crafted by Old Chef. She spread open a blank thin booklet on the table, turned to the first page, and stood there keeping accounts, her expression serious and meticulous.
The little girl even shielded the book with one hand while writing.
Chen Ping'an glanced at the account book, which looked like a newly opened shop, and asked with a smile, "When you lent me money earlier, why didn't you record it?"
Little Millet didn't look up, just reached out and scratched her face. "That Dwarf and I are martial world friends. Business dealings need to be clearly accounted. For example, if I owed money, I would also record it. But you, Good Mountain Lord, Sister Ning, Pei Qian, we are all family. No need to keep accounts."
Pei Qian laughed and reached out to shake Little Millet's head.
Shaken like that, the characters in the account book went crooked. Little Millet stomped her foot in annoyance, reached out to swat Pei Qian's hand away. "Don't rush, don't rush. I'm keeping accounts!"
The group walked out of this city full of martial world and marketplace atmosphere. They branched off from the busy official road, choosing a random spot—a large persimmon forest, the flowers as red as fire.
Earlier, they had passed a lake, the watery countryside filled with mist, the fishing boats themselves like swimming fish.
The White-Haired Lad was now taking Little Millet to pick up the small, red lantern-like fruits from the ground. What land wouldn't nurture its people.
Ning Yao leaned against a tree, arms crossed over her chest. This was her first time watching this pair of master and disciple, each teaching and learning the fist technique.
Pei Qian took off her bamboo box and placed it in the distance. She seemed a little uneasy, as if she didn't know where to put her hands and feet.
Chen Ping'an found it a bit strange and asked with a smile, "What's the matter? Why so nervous?"
Really, he, the master, should be the one nervous—he had to be careful not to be knocked down by his senior disciple again.
Pei Qian took a deep breath and stood solemnly. "Please teach the fist, Master."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "The lesson today is very simple. I'll only use one fist technique to spar with you. As for you, you can use any technique you like."
But as soon as Chen Ping'an extended a single palm, just setting up the basic stance, Pei Qian took a step back.
Ning Yao felt that the fist technique lesson wouldn't be taught today.
Chen Ping'an was increasingly puzzled. "Pei Qian?"
Pei Qian, head lowered, voice as faint as a mosquito's hum, said, "I don't dare to throw a punch."
Chen Ping'an laughed in exasperation. "What, are you worried that you're too high in realm, that your fist intent is too heavy, afraid you might accidentally injure your master with one punch, or give him a near-death beating with two?"
Pei Qian just looked at the ground, shook her head, and remained silent.
Chen Ping'an looked at Ning Yao. She shook her head, indicating he should try a different approach, not force it.
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment, then turned and shouted at the White-Haired Lad, "You there, come over here. Help me out."
The White-Haired Lad stomped her feet. "It's me paying the bill, it's me getting beaten. Hidden Master Ancestor, do you or do you not respect the code of the martial world?!"
Pei Qian looked up, full of guilt. Chen Ping'an smiled and waved his hand dismissively. "It's fine. From now on, just watch Master's punches carefully."
Ning Yao waved Pei Qian over.
Pei Qian walked over. Ning Yao said softly, "It's okay."
Pei Qian nodded.
Ning Yao saw that Pei Qian's forehead had even broken out in sweat, so she gently helped wipe it away.
Pei Qian looked a little embarrassed.
The White-Haired Lad assumed a stance of sinking qi into the dantian. Then she shook her shoulder, her hands swaying like water. She let out a yell and began to pace, circling around Chen Ping'an. "Hidden Master Ancestor, fists and feet have no eyes. I apologize in advance!"
Chen Ping'an stood there, nearly losing the will to strike.
Little Millet crouched in the distance, having gathered a large heap of persimmons that had fallen to the ground. She popped one into her mouth after another, not really tasting any particular flavor.
The White-Haired Lad circled once, then hopped into a golden rooster standing on one leg stance, her hands poking and prodding. She said seriously, "Hidden Master Ancestor, this Mantis Fist technique of mine—you must be extremely careful!"
Chen Ping'an just swung a leg. The White-Haired Lad was caught on the side of the neck, her head lolling, bouncing a few times on the ground, rolling over in the process.
She ended up lying on the ground, waving her hand weakly. "No more, no more. Little Millet, remember to put the medicine fee on the account. Three taels of silver should do. When we get back to Fallen Mountain, I'll ask Money God Wei for it."
Chen Ping'an glared. "Be serious!"
The White-Haired Lad sighed mournfully, jumped up, and dusted off her clothes. "Alright, alright."
The ensuing spar saw this Flying Ascension Realm outer-realm demon use some martial arts techniques from the Azure World's martial artists. Meanwhile, Chen Ping'an's fist path was "delicate," like a woman's fist technique. But although it seemed "subtle," it was extremely fast and fierce.
Pei Qian watched carefully. Not only did she memorize the fist paths and techniques with a photographic memory, she could also clearly see the traces of her master's fist intent.
Not just Chen Ping'an's strikes, but even the White-Haired Lad's various seamlessly linked techniques and stances from different schools were all captured in Pei Qian's eyes.
In fact, after Wu Shuangjiang boarded the Night Traveler Ship and was reunited with his Dao partner Heart Demon, because he had secretly opened many restrictions for her, the White-Haired Lad now was essentially a walking martial arsenal, an immortal cave. Most of the divine powers, sword techniques, and fist techniques that Wu Shuangjiang knew, she knew at least seven or eight tenths. Although within that seven or eight tenths, the spirit and Dao aura might be somewhat lacking, it seemed sufficient for the master and disciple traveling with her, Chen Ping'an and Pei Qian.
Perhaps this was the greatest gift Wu Shuangjiang had given the Fallen Mountain within that deal.
Wu Shuangjiang deliberately didn't mention this, naturally confident that Chen Ping'an, "that nephew who eats and runs," would figure it out for himself.
So Chen Ping'an, who initially only intended for Pei Qian to watch the fist techniques, began throwing his punches with increasing seriousness, taking on a sparring quality.
The White-Haired Lad, while yowling, casually threw out a punch that was the ultimate killer move of some Peak Realm martial artist from the Azure World's history.
Pei Qian memorized them all.
Little Millet was busy eating persimmons, one after another. Suddenly, she shrugged her shoulders and shivered. At first, it was just a little astringent, but now her mouth felt numb.
Ning Yao watched that figure in green robes, his punches flowing like clouds and water. She felt a twinge of regret that she hadn't been able to witness that Wen Temple fistfight.
She remembered that time on the city wall—he hadn't even managed to land a single punch on Cao Ci, had he?
Now, Chen Ping'an's punches indeed had the style of a grandmaster.
The reason was simple. It just looked good.
No wonder those martial artist seeds hiding in the Cold Travel Palace back then had all looked down on A Liang's fist techniques. Later, when Zheng Dafeng taught fist techniques, they still didn't think much of them. They all said that the Hidden Master's fist techniques were both visually appealing and practical. The pure martial artists of the Punishment Officer lineage, having started as a group of children, naturally felt close to this lineage and that of the Hidden Master of the Summer Resort. The most talented young martial artists, both male and female, held the "former Hidden Master, Shopkeeper Chen" in the highest esteem.
Ning Yao pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing into a smile.
She wondered what kind of lively scene it would be when he went to Flying Ascension City in the future.
During Chen Ping'an's absence from the ferry boat, besides often chatting with Little Millet, Ning Yao had also had a heart-to-heart talk with Pei Qian in private.
Perhaps it was because she was drinking with her master's wife—drinking loosens the tongue. As Pei Qian drank, she spoke some words that had been buried in her heart for many years. On Fallen Mountain, not even to Nuan Shu, her gentle sister, or to Little Millet, had Pei Qian ever said these things.
For example, she would often miss the days when she was little, helping to attract customers in Qilong Lane. Every day, she would go to the schoolhouse for lessons. Although she hadn't actually learned much, she spent every day thinking about skipping class or just daydreaming. But later, when she grew up, she was very grateful for the good intentions of her master and Old Chef. At least she had attended a schoolhouse properly, surrounded by the sound of reading.
Once, a schoolteacher from a small town, probably thinking that little charcoal-black girl was too inattentive, became angry at her lack of striving. He asked Pei Qian to call her father over.
The slouching little charcoal-black girl said, "My dad is very busy. He's away on a long trip." But in her heart, she thought, "A load of crap. He's not as good as Old Chef. Teach me? He even mispronounces words when he recites from memory. I don't."
"When is he returning to town?"
"I don't know." In her heart, the little girl thought, "How the heck should I know? Do you know who my dad's teacher is? I bet it would scare you to death just to hear it."
"Pei Qian! Stand up straight! Sloppy sitting, sloppy standing! Behaving like this! Do you know what respecting the teacher and revering their teachings means?"
"Oh." The Pei Qian of that time, perfunctorily, just thought, "I only have one master, and it's none of your business. Look at you, all that authority. If you think you're so tough, let's step outside and have a go. I'll use my Crazy Devil Sword Technique and beat you so badly that when you go home and look in the mirror, you won't even recognize yourself."
In the end, that old stickler said a few words that made Pei Qian, feeling quite awkward, mutter an apology.
The schoolteacher said, "I can tell just by looking at you that your family isn't well-off. Your father has worked so hard to let you come to school. He didn't send you here to help with farm work. Even though coming to class here doesn't cost any money, you shouldn't waste your parents' hopes. They want you to study and learn to read and write properly here. Setting aside everything else, just being able to write the Spring Festival couplets for your family would save your father some money."
After that, Pei Qian behaved more properly in class. At least she stopped drawing little figures in her books.
During that moonlit night spent with her master's wife on the rooftop, Pei Qian also spoke of Grandpa Cui.
Ning Yao asked her why she missed Senior Cui so much.
Pei Qian said, "What if, just what if, one day Master didn't want me anymore and kicked me out. If Grandpa Cui were there, he would persuade Master, he would stop him. And even if it wasn't like that, I still considered Grandpa Cui my elder. When I was learning fist techniques with him in the bamboo building on the second floor, I was so frustrated I was grinding my teeth. I wanted to beat that old man to death with one punch. But when Grandpa Cui really stopped teaching me fist techniques, I wished Grandpa Cui could keep teaching and feeding me punches for a thousand years, ten thousand years. I wouldn't be afraid of suffering more. I just wished Grandpa Cui could always stay in that bamboo building and never leave."
Finally, Pei Qian mentioned her master.
She said that although her master hadn't taught her much fist and foot techniques, she felt that he had already taught her the best fist technique long ago.
During the years they traveled the martial world together, her master was actually teaching her every day—not to be afraid of this world, and how to get along with it.
On that moonlit rooftop, Ning Yao just listened. Beside her was Pei Qian, tipsy from the wine, speaking her heart out quietly.
Wine went down the throat, words came out. It was as if the words in her stomach and the wine in the pot had swapped places.
In truth, upon closer inspection, Pei Qian was now a young woman of no ordinary appearance. She was the kind of person who, the longer you looked, the more beautiful she seemed.
After saying these heartfelt words, the slender, dark-skinned young female martial artist sat up straight, her hands clenched into fists resting lightly on her knees, her gaze resolute.
The sparring in the persimmon forest ended after the White-Haired Lad had shown off over a hundred moves of exquisite fist and foot techniques.
However, both sides deliberately suppressed their realms, only operating within a radius of three zhang. The contest was more about technique; otherwise, the entire persimmon forest would have disappeared.
Chen Ping'an withdrew his fists and looked at Pei Qian.
Pei Qian nodded vigorously. "Master, I've memorized them all."
The White-Haired Lad held her head with one hand and her chest with the other, staggering like a drunkard, cautiously glancing at Chen Ping'an from the corner of her eye. She said with a trembling voice, "Not good. The Hidden Master's fist intent is too domineering. I think I'm seriously injured. Little Millet, quick, help me!"
Little Millet dashed over and carefully supported the White-Haired Lad.
Chen Ping'an shook his green robe, sending the dust and footprints scattering. He flexed his arms, especially his hands, which were a bit numb from the impact. Good heavens, this little demon had been storing up a bellyful of resentment and was using the opportunity while he suppressed his realm to teach Pei Qian, getting revenge by aiming every trick straight at his face.
Trying to close the stable door after the horse has bolted now? Isn't it a bit late?
The group continued their walk. Little Millet and the White-Haired Lad played and scuffled. They snatched a moment to ask each other about their fist technique, agreeing to stand still and not move. Little Millet closed her eyes, turned sideways, and threw punches non-stop. The White-Haired Lad quickly exchanged blows, a mutual scratching? After the fist talk, they looked at each other, the two short ones both thinking the other was a master.
The group eventually arrived at the bow of the Night Traveler Ship.
They could now faintly see the faint outline of land at the southernmost tip of North Juzhou.
Willows were green, peach blossoms red. Lotus flowers withered, osmanthus flowers bloomed. The mortal world was peaceful and without incident.
Chen Ping'an closed his eyes, his mind and spirit sinking in. He unrolled the last scroll of the river of time, the one he had always been afraid to look at until the end.
In a nameless, cramped alley somewhere in Tongye Continent, a little girl holding an umbrella was returning home, skipping and hopping. She knocked on the door and went in to see her parents. They sat down to eat together. The man put food on his daughter's plate, the woman smiled gently. The family was reunited, the lamp light warm and homely.
Chen Ping'an seemed to be standing in the alley outside the door, watching the scene. He was dazed, his vision blurring. He stood for a long time before turning and walking away. Slowly turning back, it seemed a child was following him. When Chen Ping'an turned his head, a child with a pure, clean face stopped, staring wide-eyed at Chen Ping'an. Meanwhile, from the other end of the alley, another child, slightly older, came running. He was thin, his skin dark, carrying a large basket on his back, along with a patched and re-patched sewing kit. As he brushed past Chen Ping'an, he also suddenly stopped. Chen Ping'an crouched down, touched the youngest child's head, murmured a few words, then stood up and bent down to gently tug at the basket straps on the slightly older child's shoulder.
Practicing fist techniques in the future would be very hard.
But in his youth, carrying that basket up the mountain, walking alone under the blazing sun, sweating every time, his shoulders truly hurt.
Chen Ping'an's mind and spirit scattered. His vision blurred, and he was forced to depart from this strange, bizarre scroll of the river of time.
In that instant, he saw that child with the basket turn and walk back into the alley. Then he crouched down, face pale, hands clutching his stomach. Finally, he took off the basket, placed it beside the wall, and began to roll on the ground in agony.
The next moment, beside Chen Ping'an's ear and that child's ear, there was a sound like a drum beating, as if someone was speaking, repeating one word over and over: Don't die.
In a flash, Chen Ping'an opened his eyes on the Night Traveler Ship, his face filled with bewilderment.
In that fleeting instant, who was that person? He couldn't see clearly. That voice—he had heard it clearly, yet he couldn't remember it at all.