Chapter 817: Marking the Boat to Find the Sword
At the border between Shushui Kingdom and Guyu Kingdom, amid green mountains and clear waters, under a gentle breeze and bright sun, a man and a woman walked side by side, hiking up the mountain toward a mountain god shrine at the summit.
The man carried a sword on his back, wore a jade hairpin, and was dressed in a blue shirt, long gown, and cloth shoes. The woman carried a sword case on her back and wore a white robe.
Both people and scenery could have been captured in a painting.
The mountain was called Jingling. Roughly twenty-some years ago, a mountain god shrine had been built. The shrine's rank was not high, and the incense was offered to a mountain god lady that even the local people had never heard of. At the time, a Vice Minister of Rites from Shushui Kingdom had presided over the enshrinement ceremony. Scholars from the prefectures and counties initially scrambled to claim kinship or seek ancestral favor, but after combing through official histories and local county gazetteers, they could not find which historical titled lady “Liu Qian” was.
Nearby flowed the famous Huanghe River. Every rainy season, the spring flood of the Huanghe would appear. In the peaceful years after the chaos ended, people cherished this all the more and rejoiced. Just then, the Huanghe River Palace was holding a wedding banquet—the River God taking a wife—a grand event unseen in a hundred years. Thus, from local officials to common folk, everyone was overjoyed, as if celebrating the New Year. Consequently, the incense at the Jingling Mountain Shrine was slightly better than usual.
The man and woman visiting the Jingling Mountain God Shrine were none other than Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao, who had traveled south by wind.
On the way, Chen Ping'an had already told Ning Yao about the general situation of the former Sword Water Villa, why Senior Song was willing to give up his ancestral estate and relocate here to live in seclusion, the backroom dealings with the Shushui Kingdom court, Liu Qian's true identity, the former Four Killers of Shushui Kingdom, and incidentally mentioned Su Lang, the Green Bamboo Sword Immortal of Songxi Kingdom. Now he smiled and said, “This mountain peak is locally called Heart's Tip. Over by the Huanghe River, there are cliff inscriptions—eight large vermilion characters: ‘Autumn Dwelling on the Ba Shore, Dragon Sleep Revived.’ That River God Lord considered it a good omen, so he built the Huanghe Water Palace beneath the cliff in the water. Actually, by the usual rules of mountains and waters, a water palace should not be established so close to a mountain; it easily leads to conflict between mountain and water.”
Ning Yao asked, “The Huanghe Great King? What's his background?”
Chen Ping'an chuckled softly, “His true form is a giant catfish. The Huanghe's waters are muddy, and the Dao is close to him. But I heard this River God usually likes to call himself a Daoist, fond of refined conversation, quite elegant. So he doesn't much like the title ‘Huanghe Great King,’ but the common people from the two kingdoms along the Huanghe still like to call him that, and it's hard to change.”
Ning Yao said, “Taking a concubine is taking a concubine, why call it the River God taking a wife?”
Chen Ping'an immediately restrained his smile and said nothing more.
Arriving at the Jingling Mountain God Shrine, the scattered worshippers were mostly scholars and literati, because the Vice Minister of Rites who had enshrined this mountain was now in charge of this year's metropolitan examination for Shushui Kingdom.
Chen Ping'an took out three mountain incense sticks, lit them. Naturally, he was different from the ordinary folk who prayed for blessings and made wishes. He did not kowtow or bow in worship—that would be against propriety. Chen Ping'an merely paid respects to the four directions of heaven and earth, and did not even bow to the mountain god lady statue inside the hall. With a silent thought, he placed the incense into the burner. Ning Yao did not even light incense. It wasn't that Ning Yao looked down on Liu Qian's status as a mountain god spirit; rather, this mountain god shrine of Liu Qian's certainly could not bear Ning Yao's three bows with incense. So even if Ning Yao had been willing, Chen Ping'an would have stopped her.
The painted statue rippled with a shimmer of light. From within the mountain god's golden body, a woman in flowing robes quickly emerged. Liu Qian used an illusion technique, her supernatural powers ensuring that the mortal worshippers in the shrine would not recognize her.
Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao stood in a quiet spot. Liu Qian, looking radiant, performed a formal bow with hands clasped. Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao returned the greeting with cupped fists.
Liu Qian said softly, “Young Master Chen, could this be Sword Immortal Ning from the Sword Qi Great Wall?”
With an ordinary person, she would never dare ask such a thing. If she asked the wrong person and this woman was not named Ning, the consequences would be dire. But with Chen Ping'an, Liu Qian was quite certain.
Ning Yao smiled and nodded.
She had heard Chen Ping'an mention Liu Qian and Song Fengshan's past; coming together had not been easy.
Liu Qian beamed, as if suddenly understanding. “No wonder Young Master Chen was willing to travel across thousands of miles of mountains and rivers to find Miss Ning at the Sword Qi Great Wall.”
Chen Ping'an smiled and asked, “Is Senior Song at home now?”
Liu Qian nodded. “Last time, Grandpa went wandering the jianghu to clear his mind and returned home. After hearing that Young Master Chen had gone back to his hometown, whenever he goes out into the jianghu now, he only goes as far as the gate and then stops.”
Speaking of this, Liu Qian couldn't help but smile. That old man, who used to be so stern, was now like an old child. Fengshan controlled his drinking, so he drank in secret. Every time he pretended to go for a walk to the gate, he would deliberately avoid Fengshan. Later, Fengshan deliberately asked if he should send another letter to Fallen Mountain to urge Chen Ping'an. The old man would blow his beard and glare, saying, “Let him come if he wants. If he doesn't want to, I don't care.” But these days, the old man had stopped drinking altogether, as if saving it up.
Chen Ping'an asked, “Sister-in-law, did you just come from the Huanghe Water Palace? Won't this delay your business?”
Liu Qian shook her head with a smile. “No delay. Jingling and the Huanghe have a good relationship. For this River God's wedding, Fengshan and I went over to help receive guests. When I heard Young Master Chen's silent message, I came back first. I sent a message to Grandpa via a mountain sparrow. Fengshan is also on his way now; he's heading directly to the house to avoid a detour, so Grandpa doesn't have to wait long.”
One reason Liu Qian had chosen this place to build the shrine was that Song Yushao and the Huanghe River God were old friends who got along well. A close neighbor was better than a distant relative.
Chen Ping'an cupped his fists. “Then please lead the way, Sister-in-law.”
Liu Qian took the lead, traveling by wind. Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao followed behind. The house was still a hundred miles of mountain road from the shrine. After Song Yushao had washed his hands of the jianghu, he retired to the mountains and forests. So for many years, when he occasionally went wandering in the jianghu to clear his mind, he no longer carried a sword, nor would he flip through old almanacs before going out.
The three landed in front of the house. Compared to the former Sword Water Villa, that martial arts holy land in Green Pine Prefecture, the current house could be called shabby. At the door stood an old man with white hair and beard, hands behind his back, his figure slightly stooped, squinting with a smile.
Chen Ping'an twisted his wrist, and a bamboo-yellow sword sheath appeared in his hand. He raised it high and gently tossed it to the old man.
Song Yushao was startled. He reached out and caught the sheath, asking suspiciously, “Boy, how did you get it back? Bought, borrowed, or stolen?”
At the end, the old man laughed heartily to himself. Who cares? Didn't this little rascal get the sheath back?
Chen Ping'an strode forward quickly, smiling. “According to jianghu rules, I made them return it the same way they took it.”
Song Yushao looked a bit worried. “Twenty-some years ago, that fellow was already a Far Wandering realm grandmaster. Back then, with that arrogant aura, he didn't look like someone who would die young. His martial arts career was definitely going to climb higher. Are you alright, boy?”
He could see that Chen Ping'an was currently carrying some injuries. Could it be that he got hurt just for this sword sheath? That was too uneconomical.
That fierce dragon crossing the river, with just a casual turn of its head or flick of its tail, would stir up monstrous waves for the jianghu of a dozen countries including Shushui and Caiyi.
Chen Ping'an chuckled. “His name is Ma Quxian, a martial artist from the Central Plains Duan, and also a leading general. When I went to ask about fist techniques, he was at the ninth realm bottleneck.”
Liu Qian’s face turned pale.
Even though she already knew Chen Ping'an was the last Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall and one of the Young Ten across several worlds, when she heard that the man was a ninth realm bottleneck martial artist, Liu Qian was still terrified.
Song Yushao gripped the bamboo sword sheath tightly and asked, “Was the fist asking very dangerous?”
Chen Ping'an shook his head and said softly, “These injuries of mine came from sparring with someone else. They have nothing to do with the fist asking with Ma Quxian. Not dangerous at all.”
Song Yushao glared. “Talking so big, why didn't you just pick a fight with Cao Ci?”
Chen Ping'an nodded, blinking. “That's exactly who I fought.”
Anyway, today I came for the alcohol. Besides, who is better at persuading someone to drink is hard to say now.
Song Yushao was momentarily speechless. He decided to ignore the boy. After doing something incredibly impressive, he had to say it as if it were nothing, just like the old man himself when he was young. Song Yushao turned to look at the woman. “Ning Yao?”
Ning Yao cupped her fists. “This junior, Ning Yao, pays respects to Grandpa Song.”
Song Yushao returned the gesture with cupped fists, then stroked his beard and smiled, glancing sideways at someone. “You lucky bastard.”
Together, they entered the house. Liu Qian brought out wine and a few plates of appetizers. After Ning Yao and Liu Qian each toasted Song Yushao and Chen Ping'an, they left the table to let the two drink alone.
Song Fengshan was still on his way. As a mere seventh realm martial artist, he couldn't travel by wind, so naturally he was slower than his wife, the mountain god Liu Qian.
Song Yushao held a wine bowl in one hand, and with the other hand curled a finger and lightly tapped the bamboo-yellow sword sheath lying on the table. He sighed, “You say it so easily, but I know how hard this is.”
It wasn't just about winning a fist fight against the ninth realm perfected Ma Quxian. The old man was referring to how Chen Ping'an had managed to get to where he was today, to come here, and to sit down for a drink.
Chen Ping'an lifted his wine bowl and smiled, saying he was late, so he would first fine himself three bowls. After drinking three bowls in a row, he poured more wine, lightly clinked bowls with Senior Song, and they both drained them. Then they each filled their bowls again. Chen Ping'an took a big mouthful of the appetizers to slow down.
Song Yushao grinned. “Tell me how the fight with Ma Quxian went. That's the real appetizer.”
Chen Ping'an only gave a rough account—after all, it was just a few punches.
Song Yushao drank some wine, wiped his mouth, and smacked his lips. “So you made him drop in realm?”
Chen Ping'an nodded, lifting one foot to rest on the bench. “If he ever dares to ask about fists again, I'll make him drop another realm, until he dares not ask.”
Song Yushao raised his chin. Chen Ping'an played dumb. Song Yushao had to remind him, “Asking such heavy fists, shouldn't you drink big bowls? The bowls at home are small. First, drink two bowls as a token. This homemade brew won't get you drunk, just fill you up. Don't be so reluctant. Forcing drinks on the table hurts character, but just eating without drinking and only drinking when urged—isn't that even worse for character?”
Chen Ping'an replied helplessly, “Wait until Brother Song joins the table; you can say that to him, Senior. Let Brother Song learn from me: drink three bowls first before sitting down.”
Song Yushao laughed. “Fengshan has been holding a grudge. For years, he kept saying that if he had a daughter, he might be your father-in-law. Now that's impossible. When he gets here, you handle it yourself. If I were him, I wouldn't let it slide.”
Chen Ping'an wiped his face. “I'll take the drink.”
Song Yushao kicked off his boots, crossed his legs, and his eyes sparkled. “Did you see many sword immortals at the Sword Qi Great Wall?”
Chen Ping'an nodded. “I've seen them all.”
After that, Song Yushao didn't ask a single question about Chen Ping'an's past at the Sword Qi Great Wall—how a young outsider became the Hidden Officer, how he became a true swordsman, who he fought with sword and fist in that great war, which sword immortals he fought alongside, how many toasts at the table, how many silent farewells on the battlefield—the old man asked none of it.
Chen Ping'an also didn't ask why he hadn't seen Old Butler Chu or the gatekeeper Old Qi. He just asked about the recent state of the jianghu in Shushui Kingdom. He learned that Wang Yiran, the martial arts alliance leader from the Horizontal Blade Mountain Villa, had improved his saber technique a bit. After Su Lang, the Green Bamboo Sword Immortal of Songxi Kingdom, he became the second seventh realm martial artist in the jianghu, breaking through a few years earlier than Song Fengshan. Su Lang was currently in seclusion, with hopes of breaking into the Far Wandering realm upon emerging. Before entering seclusion, Su Lang, carrying his green bamboo sword and hanging his cyan bamboo sword, had made a special trip to visit here, reminisce with Song Yushao, and bury the hatchet.
As for General “Chu Hao,” whose true identity was Han Yuanshan of Little Double Mountain, he already held the reins of power, completely sidelining the emperor. Due to the war that had reached the central part of Bottle Gourd Continent, Han Yuanshan had achieved remarkable military merit. In several bitter battles where he refused to retreat, he deployed troops with skill, satisfying the people. His reputation turned around. The former leader of the Chu faction, whom everyone wanted to kill, now had a fairly good name both in court, among scholars, and in the jianghu. Consequently, rumors in Shushui Kingdom's court and among the people suggested the emperor intended to abdicate. Because Liu Qian, his grandson's wife, was a spy for the Great Li Empire, Song Yushao knew more inside details. Shushui Kingdom, still a vassal of Great Li, had an emperor who wanted to shed this status, but he couldn't compete with the multi-role general “Chu Hao,” or rather Han Yuanshan, who was attached to the Great Li Song clan. So the emperor, Han Yuanshan, and the Great Li Dynasty had made a behind-the-scenes deal. The current emperor didn't need to abdicate, because the nominal ruler would be an obscure prince of Shushui Kingdom—naturally, Han Yuanshan would assume that identity. So only the reign name would change, not the kingdom's name. And the overbearing general “Chu Hao” would surprise everyone by retiring from office gracefully and returning to his hometown. Henceforth, Shushui Kingdom would not be a vassal of the Great Li Song clan, but would be even more like a vassal. The Great Li Empire likely had many similar secret schemes.
Song Fengshan arrived at the house. Chen Ping'an used various tricks to make him drink three bowls before he could sit down.
Chen Ping'an smiled. “Earlier, near the Confucian Temple, I saw two juniors from the Qiu clan of Yuzhou. Senior, would you like to go to Yuzhou for a hotpot?”
Song Yushao waved his hand. “Too far to go. As for hotpot, missing one meal is no big deal. The farthest I'll go is to Great Li territory. When I have time, I'll drop by your mountain. Don't wait for me. I'll go on my own, just to have a look. Whether you're on the mountain or not doesn't matter.”
As they drank, Song Fengshan, who had once claimed he could take on two Chen Ping'ans at the table, was already seeing double. Every time he raised his bowl, the guy across from him would tilt his head back, down it in one gulp, and then say, “As you please.” This kind of non-pressing persuasion was the worst. How could Song Fengshan just “as he pleased”? Chen Ping'an was a full ten years younger than him, and he was already outmatched in sword techniques. Could he also lose in drinking capacity? Absolutely not. After getting drunk, Song Fengshan insisted on playing finger-guessing drinking games with Chen Ping'an, claiming it was like asking fists. He lost badly, twice going outside the door to squat. Liu Qian gently patted his back. After wiping himself clean, he staggered back to the table and continued drinking. Ning Yao reminded Chen Ping'an once that he was a guest; he should let Song Fengshan drink less. Chen Ping'an was helpless, telling her silently that Brother Song couldn't hold his liquor but insisted on drinking; he really couldn't stop him. Ning Yao told Chen Ping'an to stop himself from drinking.
Outside under the eaves, Ning Yao had to apologize to Liu Qian.
Liu Qian smiled and said it was fine. Such occasions were rare. Today, Fengshan getting drunk would just make him uncomfortable for a while, but not getting drunk would make him regret it for a long time.
Song Yushao, being an old jianghu, actually drank more than Song Fengshan but wasn't very drunk—just red-faced, hiccupping, urging both Fengshan and Chen Ping'an to drink less.
Fengshan was easy—let him pass out and sleep it off. But Chen Ping'an now had a wife. If he got completely wasted today, Ning Yao would have to search for him under the table. Would he even be drinking at the next meal?
Nevertheless, Chen Ping'an really could hold his liquor. By the end, Song Yushao saw that the guy's eyes were bright, not at all like a drunken man. The old man had to admit defeat and took the initiative to cover his wine bowl, saying that's enough for today. If he drank any more, he really couldn't. His grandson and granddaughter-in-law were strict; today, he had drunk half a year's ration in one go. Besides, he had to go to the Huanghe River Palace tonight for the wedding feast. He couldn't just drink tea there—that wouldn't do. He always had to cure wine with wine.
Chen Ping'an said that after drinking, he had to go to Caiyi Kingdom and then immediately hurry off to handle some business. He couldn't stay here.
Song Yushao laughed and said to focus on important matters. Next time, they would drink to their heart's content. Whether at Fallen Mountain or here, they'd set up a hotpot table and settle the score once and for all.
When Chen Ping'an stood up, he swayed. Song Yushao slowly rose, pressing two fingers on the table, his stance much steadier.
As for Song Fengshan, he was already face-down on the table.
Song Yushao picked up the bamboo-yellow sword sheath, tossed it across the table to Chen Ping'an, and smiled. “It's yours.”
Catching the sheath, Chen Ping'an walked out of the house into the courtyard. He and Ning Yao bid farewell to the old man and Liu Qian, who was supporting Song Gaofeng, then departed by wind. But after only a few dozen li, Chen Ping'an suddenly covered his mouth, hurriedly landed, and reached for a tree to steady himself. His hand missed, and his head hit the tree. He simply pressed his forehead against the trunk, bent over, and vomited violently. Ning Yao stood beside him, gently patting his back, and said helplessly, “You and your pride.”
In her memory, Chen Ping'an had never been drunk from drinking, let alone thrown up.
Today, Chen Ping'an hadn't even dispersed the alcohol's effects or neutralized its strength. He let himself get drunk, asking Ning Yao to walk with him for a while. Once he recovered a bit, he would fly by wind to Caiyi Kingdom.
Ning Yao accompanied him on a small mountain path. They walked slowly. His blue shirt swayed unsteadily, so she had to take his arm.
The drunk man called her name softly: “Ning Yao, Ning Yao.”
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but answered each time.
Back at the house, the old man sat back at the table, smiling as he looked out the door.
In the younger generation of jianghu, people often pressured others to drink just to see them make fools of themselves when drunk.
Old-timers, on the other hand, urged drinking because they didn't have enough wine themselves and wanted their friends to have their fill. Or when they had plenty, they urged to hear more heartfelt words.
Perhaps every old jianghu is like a wine vat, filled with a single wine named “Once.”
When they reached the house in Caiyi Kingdom, they saw Yang Huang and his wife Yingying. This time, Chen Ping'an didn't drink. He just took Ning Yao to toast at the grave, then went back to the house and sat for a while.
Leaving the house, Chen Ping'an looked back once.
Forty years flashed by like lightning.
In the jianghu, many old friends were gone, only stories remained, like so many instances of marking the boat to find the sword.
Within Yan Suppress Prefecture of Caiyi Kingdom, a young female cultivator named Liu Gaoxin, a direct disciple of the Divine Proclamation Sect, had worked as a state offering master for several years after descending the mountain. Though she was not old and her face still young, her expression was haggard, and her hair was entirely white.
Tonight, she sat on the rooftop, having drunk a pot of wine. The pot lay beside her foot. She unclipped a homemade bamboo flute from her waist.
A bright moon hung high; the flute sounded mournful. Life was like a dream. The moon in the flute, the wine in the body—drunk or sober, she didn't know.
She leaned back, lying on the roof, raised her hand, and gently shook a string of silver bells on her wrist. In the sound of the bells, it seemed someone passed through her heart.
But with the crisp, pleasant jingle, they left without a trace.
She looked at the full moon. “The hardest to pity is the moon in the sky.”
Wei Wei, the mountain god lady of Shushui Kingdom, was feeling bored tonight. Since there were no worshippers late at night, she sat on the steps, took out from her sleeve that travelogue full of chance romantic encounters, and read it with delight—she never tired of it.
A pity that the mountain publishing house hadn't reprinted that travelogue, so Wei Wei no longer had the long-awaited pages of painted immortals and gods. Two goddesses accompanying the shrine sat beside the mountain god lady, reading together. One of them, her eyes brightening, blurted out, “Zhunzhun.” Wei Wei looked up, puzzled. “Hey, you can't even recognize a few big characters, and you're teaching me to read?”
——
A palace-dressed woman, short in stature but with a plump, rounded charm, today left the capital and revisited the Eternal Spring Palace.
Back then, she had been driven out of the capital, forced to build a thatched hut here and cultivate in obscurity. So all she saw and heard was a bleak scene of sorrow, with autumn cicadas keening, and even the most beautiful flowers withered quickly. Now, however, every scene was like a painting, pleasing to the eye.
This Grand Dowager of the Great Li Empire, who gained status through her son, was now unquestionably the most powerful woman in all of Bottle Gourd Continent.
Her two sons: one, the Great Li Emperor, destined to be remembered through the ages; the other, a Great Li Prince with brilliant military achievements. The brothers got along, having weathered that war together.
As for who was the real Song Mu and who was Song He, did it matter? It had mattered once, and she had been heartbroken over it. But now it didn't matter at all.
Prince Song Mu, in the secondary capital by the great river, lacked only the title of emperor—otherwise, how was he different? He even had the six ministries. He should be content and not ask for more.
This time, she had come to Eternal Spring Palace, accompanied by a few Great Li imperial family offerings who were army-attached cultivators, and an old astronomer from the Imperial Observatory.
The Eternal Spring Palace's current supreme elder sat beside her. Behind the Grand Dowager stood only a sword-bearing maidservant-like woman, her figure graceful, but her face veiled by a natal water technique.
Great Li had failed to retain Cao Rong as a Song clan offering, which was a pity. This Daoist true man, who had lived in seclusion for many years in the old Great Frost Kingdom, was said to be one of the direct disciples of the Third Pavilion Master of the Jade Capital, and a senior brother to He Xiaoliang of the Cool Breeze Sect in Northern Reed Continent. Cao Rong had acted many times on the battlefields of Old Dragon City and the secondary capital, drawing much attention.
Also, the white-bone swordsman Pu Rang, a female Daoist from the Master Sword Hall of Inverted-Hanging Mountain, could not be recruited by Great Li either. She quietly left after the war ended.
On Bottle Gourd Continent, during that war, strange and talented people emerged in endless streams, a grand phenomenon of carp leaping over the dragon gate.
The only problem was that these mountain immortals had a mediocre relationship with the emperor but were quite close to that secondary capital.
As for those southern former vassals who forgot their wounds once healed, she didn't pay them any mind. But she had a near-term worry.
At a pavilion on the cliff, the old astronomer in charge of the Imperial Observatory was now informing the Grand Dowager about the flow of martial destiny within the kingdom.
She listened with a frown.
The main issue was that south of the great river, several ninth realm martial artists had appeared in succession, including both long-famous Far Wandering realm grandmasters and some new faces who had burst onto the scene. Additionally, a few young martial artists of the Divine Refining three realms had been secretly recorded by the Great Li Ministry of Justice, with details on names, hometowns, lineages, and mountain-and-water resumes.
In contrast, north of the great river, especially among the native martial artists of Great Li, looking only at superficial matters, there had been little of note in the last twenty years.
The Great Li Imperial Observatory was bitterly amused by this.
It wasn't just because Song Changjing had once gathered the martial destiny of an entire continent onto himself. A bigger problem lay near the old Li Pearl Cave Heaven: a place called Fallen Mountain.
Even leaving aside the incomprehensible mountain lord Chen Ping'an, his disciple Pei Qian, who had traveled to various continents under the alias “Zheng Qian,” was already at the ninth realm. Moreover, the steward Zhu Lian, Zhong Qiu, Lu Baixiang, Wei Xian—which of them wasn't a master with martial destiny?
Also, in the small town, at the Yang family shop, there was a formidable pair of senior and junior: the woman Su Dian, nicknamed “Rouge,” was at the Golden Body realm bottleneck, and her junior, Shi Lingshan from Peach Leaf Lane, was already a Far Wandering realm martial artist. But according to secret records from the Great Li Ministries of Rites and Justice, Su Dian had better aptitude, roots, and nature.
The Eternal Spring Palace's supreme elder was learning these mountain-top secrets for the first time and almost lost her Dao heart.
Fallen Mountain, near Cloaked Cloud Mountain, had already become a sect? Such a big thing, and not a single piece of news had leaked? And that young mountain lord, barely forty, was already a tenth realm martial artist? Wei Pi had held so many night roaming banquets and still managed to keep this concealed?
The astronomer saw that the Grand Dowager was clearly displeased and carefully chose his words. “Regarding martial destiny, there has always been the saying: ‘A martial artist of the Divine Refining three realms dies in his own country; a realm-stopping martial artist dies in his own continent.’ For Fallen Mountain to have such accumulated depth—such thick martial destiny concentrated in one place—is indeed strange, but it's not entirely a bad thing. After all, it's still within the walled garden, since the Dragon Province region is within the territory of our Great Li.”
The Grand Dowager nodded. The old astronomer tactfully took his leave.
She stood up, and the Eternal Spring Palace supreme elder began to rise as well. Without turning her head, she made a pressing-down gesture with her hand, and the elder immediately sat back down.
She looked out at the mountains, frowning.
The old grudge between Bright Sun Mountain and Fallen Mountain—two newly promoted sects—seemed destined to end badly.
Otherwise, Cloaked Cloud Mountain wouldn't be helping Fallen Mountain hide so much. For an ordinary mountain stronghold, they would have been eager to show off their sect's foundations.
In her view, what was the big deal about that old incident in Li Pearl Cave Heaven?
You, Chen Ping'an, are a Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall, an upper five realm sword immortal, and a sect master. Why be so petty about it?
And your friend Liu Xianyang didn't die after all. Instead, he turned misfortune into fortune, studying abroad at the Chen clan of Pure Confucianism in Southern Continent, and became a direct disciple of Saint Ruan and the Dragon Spring Sword Sect.
Why must you insist on seeking satisfaction from Yuan Zhenye, that protector enshrined of Bright Sun Mountain?
She turned and asked, “Could the imperial court mediate here, to smooth things over on behalf of Bright Sun Mountain? For instance, could we persuade Yuan Zhenye to voluntarily descend the mountain, visit Fallen Mountain, apologize, and offer reparations?”
Yang Hua, a water god who had quietly left her jurisdiction, stood beside this Grand Dowager. She shook her head. A golden-tasseled long sword hung at her waist. She said softly, “To answer Your Highness, as things stand now, Bright Sun Mountain would never agree to such a thing. Moreover, Chen Ping'an and Liu Xianyang would not consider the matter settled with just that.”
The Grand Dowager slapped the pavilion pillar in irritation. “Cooperation benefits both; division harms both. It could even result in both suffering losses. Both these families are sect-level sects now, and they don't even understand such a simple truth?”
Yang Hua remained silent. Some questions already had answers in the questioner's mind.
The woman sneered. “Fine, so these two sects are busy with their sub-sect site selections now. Or do Chen Ping'an and Zhu Huang think that now that they're sect masters, they can cross the bridge after crossing the river and disregard Great Li?”
Yang Hua said, “Your Highness, if they cause a big scene, it's not entirely bad for Great Li. If they set aside past grudges and expand too quickly, it could easily create problems.”
The Grand Dowager changed her palm to a fist and gently tapped the pillar.
Yang Hua continued, “Especially Chen Ping'an's Fallen Mountain, shrouded in clouds and mist, deeply hidden, rising too fast. Add to that his status as one of the Young Ten across several worlds, especially his role as the last Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall, and his alliances all over Northern Reed Continent—if we're not careful, he could become too powerful to control. Perhaps in another hundred years, no one will be able to check Fallen Mountain.”
The Grand Dowager rubbed the bridge of her nose with her finger. “Oh, that Mountain Lord Wei Pi of ours has really caused me a big problem.”
She still regarded Wei Pi with a certain respect and gave him additional courtesy.
After all, Cloaked Cloud Mountain's fate was bound up with the Great Li Empire's destiny. Over the years, as the Northern Mountain Lord, Wei Pi had given the court no reason to fault him. Officials from the Ministries of Rites and Justice who had frequent dealings with Cloaked Cloud Mountain all spoke highly of him, bluntly stating that among the Five Mountains, Wei Pi was the most proper in conduct—experienced, refined, elegant, and the most knowledgeable of official etiquette.
Moreover, there was a handle on Wei Pi that Great Li held, right here in Eternal Spring Palace.
Song Yuzhang, serving as a mountain god, was the late emperor's decision.
The maid Yang Hua had been made a river god at her own risk—that was her arrangement.
She suddenly turned and smiled. “Yang Hua, now I'm the Grand Dowager, and you're a water god lady—both are ‘lady,’ aren't we?”
Yang Hua immediately knelt and didn't rise, placing her long sword aside.
The Grand Dowager smiled, walked around behind Yang Hua, gently lifted her foot, and kicked Yang Hua's round curve. She teased, “Such a beautiful woman, yet you refuse to show your face. Such a waste.”
She sighed self-pityingly, touching her own cheek. “Not like me. I failed in cultivation and can only stubbornly face the mirror to put flowers in my hair. Youthful charm is hard to keep in old age.”
Suddenly, her eyes turned sharp. “If this Chen Ping'an dares to go too far, giving no face to Great Li, and rashly dredging up old scores, then don't blame Great Li for being unkind to Fallen Mountain.”
The Eternal Spring Palace supreme elder was shaken to the core.
The woman suddenly laughed. She turned around, bent over, covered her heavy chest with one hand, and patted Yang Hua's head with the other. “Get up. Don't act like a little dog.”
Yang Hua picked up the long sword from the ground, rose respectfully, and stood to the side again, holding the sword.
The Grand Dowager sat back down on the bright yellow cushion embroidered with coiled dragons. She suddenly asked, “Yang Hua, do you have a landscape scroll of that young mountain lord? I don't remember his face very clearly. I only remember him as a skinny, dark, mud-footed poor boy from the alley.”
Yang Hua nodded, took a scroll from her sleeve, and gently spread it on the stone table. The Grand Dowager was quite surprised. She tapped the painting with one finger, looking at the swordsman in blue with a sword on his back. She clicked her tongue in wonder. “I've only ever heard that women change eighteen times before adulthood. How can a man change so much? Is it because of cultivating the Dao?”
The woman leaned on the table, thought for a moment, took a piece of porcelain shard from her sleeve, then called over the old astronomer. She told him to locate the young mountain lord of Fallen Mountain and see what he was doing right now.
The old astronomer was very troubled, as this matter was too taboo.
The woman said with a smile, “He's not at the immortal realm, so he won't notice a thing. We'll just take one look and then immediately withdraw the array.”
The old astronomer had no choice but to comply. He set up the array, using the porcelain shard as the array's core. He activated the divine ability to observe mountains and rivers from afar. Mist rose, and finally, within the pavilion, an image appeared of a young man dressed like a Daoist.
He seemed to be on a mountain peak, gazing into the distance.
He wore a lotus crown, held a white jade lingzhi mushroom, lightly tapping it against his palm, dressed in a plain, elegant blue-gauze Daoist robe, with cloud-treading shoes on his feet, and a bamboo-yellow sword sheath on his back.
The woman tilted her head, as if unable to imagine the alley boy of yesteryear becoming someone like this.
The next moment, her heartstrings tightened. The “young Daoist” looked up as if meeting her gaze. He squinted and smiled, raised the white jade lingzhi in his hand, and slowly drew it across his neck.
——
Bright Sun Mountain, Egret Crossing.
A registered immortal master named Cao Mo rented a room at an immortal guest house called Cloud-Gazing Tower. It was a first-class room. He simply used Zhou Shou's name—no money needed, because the man had bought this room outright for a year. Otherwise, with Bright Sun Mountain currently holding a grand celebration, there were no empty rooms for guests. Forget first-class rooms in this immortal guest house: ordinary mountain cultivators who couldn't stay in the various immortal mansions on Bright Sun Mountain had even filled all the inns in the two nearby prefectural cities, crowded with immortal masters from all directions.
In the moonlight, Chen Ping'an moved a bamboo reclining chair to the broad viewing terrace, sat down, and gently shook the Sword-Nurturing Gourd at his waist, gazing into the distance at Green Mist Peak.
Three days from now was an auspicious day—the celebration of that Moving Mountain Great Sage, Enshrined Protector Yuan, ascending to the upper five realms. A sect-level immortal establishment, with sword cultivators like clouds, the largest number in the continent. Moreover, there was a recent rumor that the site for Bright Sun Mountain's sub-sect in the old Vermilion Flame Dynasty had been confirmed. Bright Sun Mountain would soon become the first sect on Bottle Gourd Continent to establish a sub-sect, leaping ahead of older sects like Divine Proclamation Sect, Snowstorm Temple, and True Martial Mountain.
Ning Yao hadn't come here. She had gone straight back to Fallen Mountain.
Chen Ping'an had used a bunch of reasons—like if he was to challenge Bright Sun Mountain, didn't he need someone to back him up? Besides, he had just received a flying sword message from Cui Dongshan saying that Tian Wan, that woman, had gotten involved with Bai Chang, a sword cultivator who could break into the Flying Ascension realm at any moment. If he and Liu Xianyang ran into the elusive Bai Chang, what then? But Ning Yao didn't agree. She only said that if Bai Chang was really hiding at Bright Sun Mountain and dared to draw his sword, she would come in time.
Actually, it was all Chen Ping'an's fault for being too impatient. Earlier on that small path on Jingling Mountain, with no one around, alcohol giving him courage, he had tried something. After Ning Yao broke free, on the way to Caiyi Kingdom, she hadn't spoken to him since.
Chen Ping'an withdrew his gaze, no longer looking at Green Mist Peak. He pursed his lips and squinted with a smile.
He had never seen Ning Yao so shy, so timid. Even if only for a moment, her face had been as red as peach blossoms.
He tucked the Sword-Nurturing Gourd back at his waist. What need was there to drink anymore?
This immortal master “Cao Mo,” appearing at Egret Crossing, carried a sword on his back while traveling, wore a lotus crown and blue-gauze Daoist robe.
Truly a celestial being full of Dao aura and immortal elegance.
The female cultivator at the immortal guest house responsible for registering guests even wondered if this Daoist true man might be some extraordinary recluse deliberately avoiding the immortal mansions on the peaks of Bright Sun Mountain.
Chen Ping'an lay back in the chair, half-asleep, until dawn.
The next day, Chen Ping'an still hadn't seen Liu Xianyang. But the entire Egret Crossing was stirred by one person. All guests of Cloud-Gazing Tower leaned on railings or windows, gazing from afar at that famous sword cultivator.
Finally, he had come.
In fact, nearly half of the registered immortal masters and wild cultivators who had come to join the excitement were drawn by this very person, hoping to be lucky enough to witness his likely sword challenge.
The master of Wind Thunder Garden, sword cultivator Huang He.
The guest house buzzed with whispers.
The centuries-old grudge between Bright Sun Mountain and Wind Thunder Garden had been a hot topic among mountain cultivators on Bottle Gourd Continent for far more than a hundred years.
Everyone knew why Yuan Bai had challenged Wind Thunder Garden. But Yuan Bai was severely wounded, destined never to break through again, yet he had only delayed Huang He's breakthrough.
Li Tuanjing, Wei Jin, Huang He.
These three were recognized as the most talented in sword practice in Bottle Gourd Continent in the past millennium.
Chen Ping'an sat up, looking from afar at the sword cultivator who had appeared at Egret Crossing. He was Li Tuanjing's senior disciple and Liu Baqiao's senior brother.
The first time Chen Ping'an had seen this man was on an intercontinental ferry at Daoist Altar Mountain. Through a water mirror, he had watched the sword challenge at Snowstorm Temple's Immortal Platform. Chen Ping'an had been deeply impressed by Huang He, whose sword strikes were extremely fierce, directly shattering Sword Immortal Su Jia's sword heart. At that time, Chen Ping'an had been low in realm, just an outsider watching the excitement. But after truly becoming a sword cultivator himself, looking back, he understood that if Huang He had been on the Sword Qi Great Wall, he might already have been at the Jade Purity realm and qualified to be a candidate for a peak sword immortal like Mi Hu or Yue Qing.
Huang He's arrival at Egret Crossing, although surprising, was also expected. It suddenly froze the festive atmosphere of Bright Sun Mountain. Flying swords and magical messages flew ceaselessly, rapidly spreading the news.
But outside the ancestral hall of First Peak, Sect Master Zhu Huang only stood side by side with the white-clothed old ape.
Two Jade Purity realm cultivators—one with a faint, confident smile; the other with a cold sneer of disdain.
At present, Bright Sun Mountain could be said to have assembled a gathering of worthies. The peaks were filled with immortal masters, heroes, emperors, ministers, and mountain and water gods from across the continent.
Some people had already exclaimed in admiration that, outside the battlefields of that year, Bright Sun Mountain was now the place gathering the most earthly immortals.
For example, Heavenly Lord Qi Zhen of Divine Proclamation Sect, along with his direct disciples, had personally arrived at Bright Sun Mountain and were staying at the ancestral First Peak.
A young academy gentleman from the Jiang clan of Cloud Forest, said to be the next head of the Jiang clan, along with his peer Jiang Yun, and a Jiang woman who had married into the Fu family of Old Dragon City, had all arrived at Bright Sun Mountain. They were staying at the peak of Old Master Xia Yuanchui.
Additionally, the new sect master of True Realm Sect at Book-Scuttle Lake, Immortal Liu Laocheng, along with the newly promoted Jade Purity realm chief enshrined Liu Zhimao and secondary enshrined Li Fuju, had all appeared together to offer congratulations, lodging at Cloud-Dispelling Peak.
Even the Central Mountain Lord Jin Qing had obtained a permit from the Great Li court and ended up staying at Snow-Facing Peak.
The Clear Wind City, which had also advanced to sect status, saw the Xu clan head bring his wife and children, along with a son-in-law from the Yuan clan who was a Pillar of State, all staying at Tao Yanbo's peak.
It was said that the Great Li court would send a Patrol Guardian Cao Ping, along with the Minister of Rites from the capital, to visit Bright Sun Mountain.
The old mountain lord of Cloud Rainbow Mountain, along with a very young Nascent Soul cultivator—now Cloud Rainbow Mountain's female founder Cai Jinjian—had also arrived at Bright Sun Mountain.
Not to mention the various emperors and lords around Bright Sun Mountain, who had left their capitals one after another, encountering an extraordinary number of mountain and water spirits along the way.
Perhaps the only blemish was that Snowstorm Temple, True Martial Mountain, and Dragon Spring Sword Sect had not sent anyone to congratulate.
Chen Ping'an suddenly stood up from the reclining chair and instantly reached the railing.
When he had made that gesture with the white jade lingzhi, the other side had apparently quickly and tactfully withdrawn their mountain-watching divine ability.
Xu Hun stood at the railing of his mansion. This Clear Wind City lord didn't think Huang He would succeed in his sword challenge today.
Big and Little Lone Mountains, collectively known as Lovers' Peaks. A woman who had been secretly brought back to her sect stood on the cliff of Little Lone Mountain, alone, her face pale and colorless, which only added to her charm, making her even more captivating.
Outside the ancestral hall, Zhu Huang said with a smile, “Given Huang He's temper, he'll have to deliver at least one sword strike at our ancestral hall before he leaves.”
The white-clothed old ape crossed his arms and snorted. “It would be best if those two wastes, Chen Ping'an and Liu Xianyang, came to challenge us together.”
Sure enough, just as Zhu Huang had predicted, Huang He drew his sword. But it was one sword strike after another, challenging each peak of Bright Sun Mountain in turn.
At First Peak, Sect Master Zhu Huang personally caught the sword, dispelling that sword light. On the other peaks, the protective mountain arrays activated instantly, and the old sword immortals caught the strikes through them. Additionally, some experts visiting Bright Sun Mountain helped catch a sword strike each.
The white-clothed old ape asked, “Should I go meet him?”
Zhu Huang smiled. “On this joyous day for the sect, let's not fight and kill. Let him be. It wouldn't sound good if word got out that Bright Sun Mountain, with its numbers, bullied a junior who was only at the Nascent Soul realm.”
Huang He stood still for a moment. Seeing that no sword cultivator from Bright Sun Mountain showed themselves, he drifted away, leaving behind a word: he would come again next time, only to challenge the ancestral hall of First Peak.
Chen Ping'an lay back in the reclining chair and breathed a sigh of relief. It was a good thing Huang He hadn't started a full-scale fight; otherwise, what would he and Liu Xianyang have done?
That night, Liu Xianyang leisurely arrived at Egret Crossing by ferry and found the first-class room at Cloud-Gazing Tower. He cursed and complained, saying that this Huang He was really going too far.
He also moved a reclining chair and lay down beside Chen Ping'an, hands behind his head, looking up at the starry sky. He chuckled and asked, “How are we challenging them with our swords?”
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment and said, “You just need to climb the mountain from the foot and swing your sword as you like. I'll be at the ancestral hall on First Peak, sitting in a chair with some tea, waiting for you slowly.”