Chapter 808: The Youth Crosses the River
The shimmering Milky Way, jade-green peaks clustering like arrowheads, the immortal estates on several peaks of Zhengyang Mountain in the distance seemed to be hosting private elegant gatherings and wine feasts, with old Sword Immortals calling friends and companions. Candlelight shone everywhere, illuminating the scene like a city of fire.
Stars shifted in the sky, wine cups turned among mortals—a pleasing sight to the eye and heart.
The third watch oil lamp, the fifth watch rooster; this was the time for studying and practicing the sword.
This celestial inn, nearest to Qingwu Peak—Chen Ping'an and Liu Xianyang both lay in wicker chairs enjoying the cool night air. Liu Xianyang was already fast asleep, while Chen Ping'an, having nothing better to do, was flipping through a book on clepsydra and calendrical astronomy. He closed the book, tucked it into his sleeve, and said softly, "It's midnight."
According to Daoist teachings, there was a mystical saying about "midnight igniting the yang fire, two hundred and sixteen." Those who cultivated the Dao would choose this hour to train, tempering their physiques, steaming their golden elixirs, exhausting yin to reach pure yang, their features becoming like jade. According to the white-haired boy, one of the ten young reserve members, the 'rice thief' Wang Luyuan, had originally been an obscure clerk in a small Daoist temple. He had stumbled upon a discarded Daoist scripture and cultivated according to its methods, refining the mountain and river cauldron, nurturing ten thousand xuan pearls. At the moment of attaining the Dao, there was an opportunity like mist dispersing to reveal a bright sun, the clouds parting to show a bright moon.
This rhetoric was naturally a memory that Wu Shuangjiang had given his Dao companion Tian Ran aboard the Night Boat. For Wu Shuangjiang, who specialized in "dissolving all things and turning them to one's own use," to hold such a high opinion of him, Wang Luyuan would inevitably become a hero in the future Qingming World—provided he wasn't targeted by the Second Palm of the Jade Capital. In these hundred years, it happened to be this Old Daoist Number Two stationed at the Jade Capital, responsible for supervising the world. Chen Ping'an guessed that Wang Luyuan had likely already slipped away to the Colorful World. When the great gate reopened and Lu Chen took charge of affairs at the Jade Capital, it wouldn't be too late for him to return to the Qingming World.
Liu Xianyang opened his eyes, rubbed his face, yawned, and shifted to a more comfortable position, curling up with his hands tucked into his sleeves. He couldn't help complaining, "Only midnight? That means I still have to wait more than ten hours. I should have come later. With me not at home, Miss Yu has to stay alone in the riverside shop. She's timid. What if a water ghost comes knocking at her door in the middle of the night?"
Chen Ping'an folded his hands on his abdomen, gazing at the Milky Way draped across the sky, and smiled. "She Yue isn't timid at all."
Liu Xianyang chuckled. "Miss Yu and I are truly destined for each other."
Chen Ping'an nodded, stood up, walked to the railing, and looked out over the ferry. Even late at night, at Egret Crossing, immortal ferry boats kept taking off and landing. Among them were female cultivators from the Huamu Workshop of Full Moon Peak, carrying flower baskets to gather blooms. The flowers in their baskets didn't come from vassal peaks, but from famous Daoist temples and monasteries under various dynasties. There were also many immortal fruits purchased from other mountain sects, all of which had to travel by immortal ferry. In earlier times, Zhengyang Mountain had no Huamu Workshop. It was only in the last twenty years, with an endless stream of happy events and too many celebrations, that Tian Wan, the female patriarch of Zhuyu Peak, proposed its temporary establishment. They mostly selected female outer-disciples of ordinary talent but youthful beauty, giving them titles like "Gathering Official" or "Basket Maid."
Liu Xianyang still lay in his wicker chair, unwilling to move, and said lazily, "Now that it's come to this, I've thought of everything I should and shouldn't think. So don't think too much more. Asking with the sword is no big deal. If I can win, I fight; if I can't, I run."
Didn't the peaks of Zhengyang Mountain all like to activate the Mirror and Moon? Liu Xianyang had watched every single one, without missing a single show, but he had never thrown any money into them.
Chen Ping'an leaned on the railing and laughed. "Run nothing. There's no way I can lose."
Liu Xianyang let out an "ai yo." "That doesn't sound like Chen Ping'an at all."
The night was cool, without the heat of summer. Liu Xianyang was silent for a moment before asking, "Can't sleep?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "I'm used to it."
Liu Xianyang said, "First find sleep in the heart, then find sleep in the eyes. Only then can you truly nourish the spirit through sleep. Even qi refiners below the fifth realm know this principle. You've read so many Buddhist and Daoist texts—don't you understand even this little truth?"
Chen Ping'an said helplessly, "Knowing and doing are two different things."
Liu Xianyang rolled his eyes. "Then it's just like back in the day when you were making porcelain and pulling bodies on the wheel. Your eyes were always faster than your hands. You had no talent for it. No wonder Yao the old man refused to take you as his apprentice."
Chen Ping'an smiled without refuting him; what Liu Xianyang said was indeed the truth.
But if the sword cultivators of the Summer Retreat lineage, or those drunkards and gamblers who had personally experienced Second Shopkeeper's vast arsenal of flying swords, were here, they'd probably bulge their eyes out. Could there be anyone in the world who dared to speak to the Hidden Official like this?
Chen Ping'an suddenly said, "Wei Yueshan finally brought people up the mountain. He probably doesn't trust the inn's staff's judgment and wants to personally screen the guests' registry."
Liu Xianyang asked doubtfully, "Who?"
Chen Ping'an slowly explained, "Wei Yueshan, two hundred and eighty years old, from a scholarly family in Huaxiang Commandery of the old Baishuang Dynasty. He had an unsuccessful official career but decent talent for cultivation, and was selected by Qingwu Peak for his bone structure. Two hundred and thirty years cultivating on the mountain, now the manager of Egret Crossing. He's a Dragon Gate realm qi refiner, not a sword cultivator. If he had entered the mountain young, he might have had a chance to reach Golden Core. He is the highest 'Yue' generation disciple currently on Qingwu Peak, and the second disciple of Golden Core sword cultivator Ji Yan. Ji Yan was the founding patriarch of Qingwu Peak. After she died via military dissolution, the sect experienced a gap in talent. Ji Yan's eldest disciple, Wei Qi, was inept at practical affairs and couldn't break through the Dragon Gate bottleneck. He eventually lost his Dao heart and caused a disaster outside the mountain: he killed a sword cultivator from another sect, provoking the Zhu Ying dynasty, which was at its peak. The Law Enforcer Yan Chu personally intervened, claiming to have imprisoned him in the peak's prison, but in truth, he secretly cleaned house. At the time, that sword cultivator of imperial blood from Zhu Ying was likely present, watching Yan Chu kill the man. Only then did they let the matter rest, not pursuing vengeance against Zhengyang Mountain."
"Guoyun Tower's manager, Ni Yuerong, is a Viewing Ocean realm cultivator. Like Wei Yueshan, she's not a sword cultivator. Because of her decent looks, she secretly attached herself to the old master Tao Yanbo. However, this matter was kept quiet, so not all cultivators in Zhengyang Mountain's Patriarch Hall knew about her hidden concubine status. After Ji Yan died, every time the First Peak Patriarch Hall met to divide sword immortal seedlings, Qingwu Peak couldn't even grab the scraps. Naturally, none of those sword immortal seedlings wanted to sit on a cold bench at Qingwu Peak. But the mountain master, Zhu Huang, had a good relationship with Ji Yan in their youth; they almost became Dao partners. So, both publicly and privately, he was willing to extend a little favor. Every thirty to fifty years, Zhu Huang would invoke the mountain sect's rules and grudgingly give Qingwu Peak one or two sword immortal seedlings. Unfortunately, Qingwu Peak couldn't hold onto them. Within ten or twenty years at most, those sword cultivators would transfer to other peaks, exchanging flirtatious glances with old sword immortals elsewhere, then change their Patriarch Hall registries and leave Qingwu for another peak. You can't really blame the young sword cultivators for this choice; Qingwu Peak didn't even have a decent senior sword cultivator. Going there to train, aside from a few dead sword manuals, they'd get no living guidance on swordsmanship. So Qingwu Peak hasn't had a Golden Core sword cultivator for over two hundred years. According to Zhengyang Mountain's Patriarch Hall regulations, if an entire peak goes three hundred years without producing a single Golden Core, the entire old Qingwu sword cultivation lineage would have to vacate the mountain."
"Sixty years ago, Ni Yuerong was publicly slapped more than a dozen times by Tao Yanbo's legitimate grandson—Tao Zi's father—right here in Guoyun Tower. So when Qingwu Peak changes its peak master, Ni Yuerong can forget about transferring to Qiuling Peak to train. She'll have to find another escape route, like Zhuyu Peak, which all the old and young sword cultivators of Zhengyang Mountain mock as 'where even birds won't land.' For her, Dui Xue Peak, with its pair of master and servant, wouldn't be bad either. Wei Yueshan is relatively good at socializing—if you can make money, you can get along anywhere. All the peaks of Zhengyang Mountain are actually willing to accept this Egret Crossing manager who has a way with finances. In recent years, he's been frequently visiting Xia Yuancui, the old sword immortal who emerged from seclusion as an upper fifth realm cultivator. Wei Yueshan has already given away two spatial items from the mountain's minor armory, practically cleaning out his savings. This has made Zhu Huang quite displeased with him. Before Zhu Huang reached the upper fifth realm, he tolerated Wei Yueshan's snobbery. Now that he's done so, he's certainly determined to make Wei Yueshan hand over the fat job of Egret Crossing. Zhu Huang has several candidates in mind to take over, and one of the substitutes is an old friend of ours—Lu Zhengchun, who married into Qiongzhi Peak a few years ago. From Fulu Street to Qingfeng City to Zhengyang Mountain, going around in circles, the world is just this small; you always run into acquaintances. As for the rights and wrongs of Wei Yueshan and Ni Yuerong down the mountain, all those messy grudges and love affairs, I won't go into them. Anyway, neither of them is anyone important."
This barrage of inside information gave Liu Xianyang a headache.
Liu Xianyang really couldn't be bothered to remember all this trivial stuff. Chen Ping'an was enough as an accountant; Liu Xianyang was born to be a shopkeeper or a master craftsman. So he just teased, "Why don't you become a professional storyteller?"
Chen Ping'an turned around and laughed. "You think being a storyteller can earn you money easily? No such thing. I tried it on the Sword Qi Great Wall and couldn't even swindle a few copper coins out of the kids."
Liu Xianyang sat up and said, "You've memorized all this messy stuff. What, are you going to compile a genealogy for Zhengyang Mountain?"
Chen Ping'an rubbed his chin. "If First Peak is willing to pay a high price, I really wouldn't mind."
Liu Xianyang lay back in his wicker chair and said, "They're here."
Chen Ping'an smiled and walked into the room to open the door and welcome the guests.
Because Huang He's sword strike at Egret Crossing had divided into nineteen beams, landing simultaneously on the various peaks. Although it was a lot of thunder and little rain—the sword light was dispersed by the local sword immortals and congratulatory guests—it still made everyone on and off Zhengyang Mountain tense up, worried about any loophole in any link. Especially Egret Crossing manager Wei Yueshan. After finally checking the complicated records at the ferry and finding no fish that slipped through the net, he rushed to the mixed bag that was Guoyun Tower, demanding that the inn thoroughly re-examine and check all guests' travel permits and credentials. As Wei Yueshan ascended the mountain, he brought several of his direct disciples and insisted that his junior sister Ni Yuerong personally handle it. On the way, Wei Yueshan cursed Huang He's ancestors eighteen generations back. What the hell was this impatient reincarnation? If he wanted to cause trouble, why not go straight to the Patriarch Hall on First Peak? Making a distant sword strike at the ferry—what kind of sword immortal spirit was that?
Ni Yuerong didn't think her senior brother was making a mountain out of a molehill. In fact, before Wei Yueshan ascended the mountain, she had already led people to check the inn's records once and sent a few clever female disciples to verify identities door to door. But there were still more than a dozen guests—either from major peaks or distinguished patrons staying in first-class rooms—whom the inn didn't dare disturb. When Wei Yueshan heard this, he immediately scolded her for having long hair and short knowledge, showing her no face at all. He insisted on dragging her along to knock on doors and thoroughly check identities. Ni Yuerong was furious in her heart: it's not your territory, so of course you can make a mess without caring about the dignity of those registered wealthy guests. But what about me and Guoyun Tower? How are we supposed to do business afterward?
Ni Yuerong knocked on the door. Wei Yueshan saw a young Daoist, tall and slender, wearing a lotus crown and draped in a blue gauze Daoist robe covered with cloud-and-water patterns. He had both the rich Daoist aura of a high-ranking mountain sect and the graceful bearing of a wealthy heir.
Actually, the moment he saw this person, Wei Yueshan regretted his actions. Especially that lotus crown, symbolizing the orthodoxy of a Daoist lineage—it made Wei Yueshan, a Dragon Gate realm cultivator, tremble inside. He cleared his throat to remind his junior sister to speak.
Ni Yuerong put on a smiling face and said softly, "Immortal Master Cao, the inn just received a decree from the Patriarch Hall. As part of our duty, we need to re-verify every guest's identity. We truly apologize for disturbing your cultivation."
She saw the young Daoist frown slightly, then break into a casual smile, eventually saying amiably, "Isn't my mountain-and-water travel permit still held at your inn according to the mountain rules? Given Zhengyang Mountain's sect foundation, distinguishing true from false shouldn't be difficult, right? Or is that not enough? Do I need to report my sect's mountain-and-water registry? Although I don't often travel down the mountain, I do know that would be somewhat against the rules. Could it be that Zhengyang Mountain is acting like a big shop bullying its customers?"
Look, listen—Wei Yueshan, the ferry manager who was an expert at reading people and situations, felt that if this outsider surnamed Cao wasn't a genuine registered Daoist, he, Wei Yueshan, would eat that travel permit.
Wei Yueshan had seen many lofty figures wandering through clouds and waters, visiting immortals. This one, young as he looked, could definitely rank in the top ten in terms of that noble and celestial bearing—a veritable golden branch and jade leaf of an immortal presence.
Ni Yuerong's eyes carried a reproachful look. She bit her lip and said softly, "Immortal Master Cao, we at the inn truly dare not defy the Patriarch Hall. I earnestly beg for your understanding. I would be extremely grateful. After this matter is settled, I will personally come to your door again to offer wine and apologize."
But Cao Mo just smiled and said nothing.
Ni Yuerong wanted to back out.
This pair of senior and junior siblings, relying on Qingwu Peak's proximity and the incense-and-fire friendship accumulated by their master Ji Yan, had each obtained their positions. Neither was a sword cultivator. If they were precious sword cultivators, they could just lie on the various peaks and enjoy life. Why would they have to deal with trivial matters every day, delaying their cultivation and having to humble themselves and smile at people?
On Zhengyang Mountain, a Dragon Gate realm qi refiner might not be as assertive in speech and action as a Cave Abode realm sword cultivator. Especially after the great battle, young sword cultivators mostly followed their masters and patriarchs down the mountain. Although the vast majority had never been to fierce battlefields like Old Dragon City or the banks of the Great River, Zhengyang Mountain had carefully selected their training grounds down the mountain—just a formality. They did draw their swords, but without any life-or-death worries. After returning to the mountain, each became increasingly arrogant. The ones who truly put their lives on the line were old sword immortals like the peak master of Boyun Peak, who liked to abruptly rise and leave the First Peak meetings. They would each lead a group of direct disciples, willing to risk death on battlefields like Old Dragon City and the Great Li Dynasty's auxiliary capital.
Surname Cao? Wearing a lotus Daoist crown? Wei Yueshan suddenly remembered something, his heart filled with doubt and suspicion. He tentatively asked, "May I ask, Revered Cao, did you cultivate on the mountain in the old Baishuang Dynasty?"
In the old battlefield at Old Dragon City, there was a Daoist immortal named Cao Rong who had appeared out of nowhere, with extraordinary magical powers. Just a few random techniques had caused a sensation.
Chen Ping'an lightly flicked his Daoist robe sleeve and said with narrowed, smiling eyes, "What if I did? What if I didn't?"
Wei Yueshan laughed awkwardly and immediately sent a mental message to remind his junior sister not to provoke this person. They could stop now. This Cao Mo was very likely connected to the legendary Cao Rong, said to be a direct disciple of the Third Palm of the Jade Capital.
Ni Yuerong immediately replied via mental message, asking her senior brother whether they should notify the Shengao Sect to inquire. Right now, the Grand Heavenly Lord Qi Zhen and his direct disciple Gao Jianfu and others were staying at the ancestral mountain's First Peak. The mountain master Zhu Huang had personally gone down the mountain to receive them, greeting Qi Zhen and his group of Daoist high masters at the mountain gate. Naturally, the Shengao Sect ferry didn't need to dock at Egret Crossing; it could head straight for First Peak.
Wei Yueshan was about to reply to his junior sister when the corner of his eye caught sight of Cao Mo smiling as if everything went without saying.
Wei Yueshan understood and immediately took his junior sister to leave. Sending a flying sword message to First Peak to disturb the Shengao Sect's Heavenly Lord Qi Zhen over such a trivial matter would be a huge joke. Qi Zhen was a leader among the immortal masters of the entire continent. And here at Zhengyang Mountain's tiny Egret Crossing and Guoyun Tower, a Dragon Gate realm and a Viewing Ocean realm—two petty cultivators reeking of money—were going to ask the honorable Heavenly Lord whether among Cao Rong's disciples in the three branches of the Jade Capital, there was a registered Daoist named Cao Mo?
Besides, on a continent like Bottle Gourd Continent, aside from the unreasonable Infant Soul sword immortal Huang He of Wind and Thunder Garden, who would have nothing better to do than come provoke Zhengyang Mountain? Even if someone had lost their mind and had the nerve, did they have the ability?
Chen Ping'an closed the door and turned back to the observation deck.
Liu Xianyang raised his head. "I thought I'd need to make a personal appearance."
"They're all hearts that have always been the same."
Chen Ping'an took the white jade lingzhi from his sleeve and gently tapped it against his palm, as if deliberating on human hearts. "Actually, if Guoyun Tower had sensed something was off, that would have been a good thing. In the future, when I do similar things, I'll be more cautious, striving to leave no cracks. Many regrets are actually within our ability to prevent; it's just that we didn't think of them, so afterward we especially regret them. This time, staying here, I didn't deliberately try to hide my identity. Before you came, I was the only one here, with nothing to do, so I treated it as passing the time."
Liu Xianyang asked, "Why come here a few days early?"
Chen Ping'an began to doze with his eyes closed on the wicker chair. After a silent moment, he answered softly, "First, I was worried that after the Confucian Temple deliberation ended, the landscape gazettes would be officially unsealed. Although I had entrusted my teacher to help conceal my identity, and a vice-president did give some hints during the deliberation—forbidding outsiders from casually discussing the inner secrets of the Sword Qi Great Wall after leaving the Confucian Temple—those peak cultivators who attended are all extremely intelligent, so they're unlikely to leak my Hidden Official identity, especially my name. However, one must prepare for the worst. If the person questioning Zhengyang Mountain was no longer just Chen Ping'an of Mud Vase Alley, a lot of the meaning would be lost. Moreover, by staying here early, sitting right here, looking at the peaks of Zhengyang Mountain from afar—sword qi soaring into the sky, like the sun at noon—with immortal masters flying like fireflies on a summer night, it helps me cultivate my heart and nature. In the future, on the path of cultivation, I can occasionally use this as a warning."
Liu Xianyang lay with his head on the back of his hands, crossed his legs, and gently swayed his foot. He laughed. "You were born to be a hard-laborer. You'll never be as free and easy as I am for the rest of your life."
Chen Ping'an said, "I've never feared busywork with hope. The busier I am, the more at peace I feel. What I fear is a bitter struggle for a mere one-in-ten-thousand chance. Ever since I left home for the first time, I've been this busy precisely so that I won't have to be this busy anymore."
Liu Xianyang hummed in acknowledgment and casually asked, "At this Confucian Temple deliberation, did you see the little snot-nosed girl?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "In Panxian County, I got all the way to the doorstep. I was originally going to see him, but I inadvertently heard a lecture from Master Zheng of White Emperor City. So I didn't see him; I just took a walk with Master Zheng."
Liu Xianyang clicked his tongue. "Taking a walk with Zheng Juzhong? What a grand sight. I'm jealous."
Chen Ping'an looked helpless and shook his head. "What's there to be jealous of? I was uneasy the whole walk. If I had a choice, I'd rather never have any interaction with Master Zheng in my life. You have no idea—during a deliberation where the two sides were facing off, Master Zheng, right in front of all the peak cultivators of both worlds, directly killed two upper fifth realm demon cultivators who were then at Tuoyue Mountain. Now I suspect whether Master Zheng might have also visited Lizhu Cave Heaven before—maybe a steward or guard on Fulu Street or Taoye Alley, a shopkeeper or clerk, a kiln master or worker, a man or a woman? Could he have appeared among us from the very beginning, exchanging greetings, having a chat? Who knows."
Liu Xianyang raised one palm and sighed, "How could our little hometown have so many gods and wonders?"
He clenched his hand into a fist and said self-deprecatingly, "When I was a child, I always felt that the world outside was vast and big, and I had to go out and see it. But after going far away and returning home, I found that my small hometown had become strange, as if I had never known it."
Chen Ping'an laughed. "As for hometowns—I forget who said it—they're like an old man who's all skin and bones. After you grow up, you don't remember him, and he doesn't remember you."
Liu Xianyang said, "Besides Cao Mo and Chen Haoren, do you have another alias called 'I Forget Who'?"
Chen Ping'an burst out laughing.
Liu Xianyang listened to Chen Ping'an's laughter and smiled himself. In their youth, this silent friend beside him hadn't liked to talk much, nor did he laugh much. But he never wore a long face either. It was as if all happiness and sorrow were carefully saved, so that when happy he could be less happy, and when sad he could be less sad—like a house with a main hall and two side rooms, housing three Chen Ping'ans. When happy, the Chen Ping'an in the main hall would go knock on the door of the unhappy Chen Ping'an; when unhappy, he'd go visit the happy one.
Such a youth was actually quite pitiable.
So in those years, Liu Xianyang liked to take Chen Ping'an everywhere. Later, when another snot-nosed kid joined them, the three of them traveled all over their hometown.
A tall youth, a skinny bamboo-pole youth as dark as coal, a girl who occasionally wiped her nose and followed them—each wore straw sandals, walking on wild country roads, dreaming of the future together.
A soft knock came at the door.
It was Ni Yuerong, carrying wine, come to apologize.
Chen Ping'an ignored her. Ni Yuerong knocked again, stood for a moment, and when no one answered, she silently left, saving a pot of immortal wine.
---
In the mansion halfway up First Peak, the Heavenly Lord Qi Zhen and his direct disciple Gao Jianfu sat facing each other, playing Go.
This residence, hung with a plaque reading "Long Sword," had always been prepared for the most distinguished guests during Zhengyang Mountain's celebrations.
Gao Jianfu smiled. "Neither Wind Snow Temple nor True Martial Mountain sent anyone to offer congratulations. Master, be careful they don't mock us later."
Wearing a fish-tail crown, Heavenly Lord Qi Zhen picked up a Go stone and shook his head. "Shengao Sect is, after all, not as free and easy as those carefree clouds and cranes."
The Shengao Sect of Bottle Gourd Continent, the Heavenly Lord Mansion of Xie Shi in Northern Julu Continent, and the former Tongye Sect (now Yugui Sect) in Tongye Continent—these were all the immortal leaders of their respective continents.
Gao Jianfu asked, "Did Zhu Huang also break through to the next realm?"
Qi Zhen nodded. "He broke through not long ago. Otherwise, an Infant Soul like you wouldn't have been able to detect it. Of course, Zhu Huang is meticulous; he might not have deliberately leaked this for those with discerning eyes to see, not wanting all the limelight to be stolen by Yuan Zhenye."
Gao Jianfu sent a mental message: "Song Changjing and Master both attended the deliberation. Given the relationship between the Great Li Song Clan and Zhengyang Mountain, logically they shouldn't have concealed Chen Ping'an's identities. It's just a matter of a sealed letter with a few words. Why does it seem like First Peak is still kept in the dark?"
Qi Zhen lightly placed a stone on the board and said, "Song Changjing's relationship with the Great Li Empress Dowager is very delicate. This is somewhat like the relationship between the Great Li capital and the auxiliary capital. Simply put, Song Changjing is helping the Great Li court and that woman opportunistically distance themselves, using this to tell Chen Ping'an, the young Hidden Official of Fallen Mountain, that grudges in the mountain world should be resolved in the mountain world, without dragging in the mortal world below."
Gao Jianfu, once praised alongside He Xiaoliang as the golden boy and jade girl of the Daoist sect's earthly immortals, had a complex expression.
Qi Zhen looked up. "What, are you looking forward to the Hidden Official's appearance?"
Gao Jianfu nodded. "If Chen Ping'an really manages to succeed in his sword challenge, I'll be convinced, admit that I'm inferior, and from then on have no more attachments. I'll just focus on cultivation."
Qi Zhen laughed. "Knowing how to give yourself a way out without fixating on a dead end—that's a secret mental technique of mountain cultivation."
Gao Jianfu asked, "If he truly dares to pick this critical moment to challenge Zhengyang Mountain, could he really succeed? Or will he be like Huang He of Wind and Thunder Garden, stopping at a point, using Fallen Mountain to announce to the continent, clarifying the grudges first, then slowly plotting later?"
Qi Zhen said, "A sword challenge is difficult, but not completely impossible. However, once Chen Ping'an decides to challenge, it won't be casual. A young man who could become the last Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall won't act purely on impulse, nor will he do anything foolish without a plan."
Lord of the Central Peak Shan, Jin Qing, stood with sword cultivator Yuan Bai on a high-floor corridor of Dui Xue Peak.
Yuan Bai said bitterly, "Lord Shan Jin, you shouldn't have come to Zhengyang Mountain this time. It could easily incur a debt on the Great Li Song Clan's books."
Jin Qing said blandly, "Why I became this mountain lord—don't you know, Yuan Bai?"
Yuan Bai said, "Precisely because I know, I hope Lord Shan Jin can long remain stationed over our old land."
Jin Qing glanced at this talented sword cultivator whose path had been cut short, and said regretfully, "As a former subject of Zhu Ying, your actions are enough to clear your conscience. But in my view, as a sword cultivator, to have fallen to this state is truly a pity. Zhengyang Mountain does things too shabbily. If I hadn't come this time, you might not even have kept Dui Xue Peak. With the temperament of people like Zhu Huang and Xia Yuancui, once the subordinate sect's location is chosen, they'll likely go with the flow, saying they're sending you back to your hometown, but in reality, they'll use Sword Cultivator Yuan Bai to the fullest. They can ask a favor from me while leveraging your reputation to recruit sword immortal seedlings from the old Zhu Ying territory. As for whether Yuan Bai lives or dies, what reputation he has—in Zhengyang Mountain's eyes, it doesn't matter at all."
Yuan Bai said, "As long as the sword immortal seedlings of my old country can ascend the mountain to cultivate early enough, my personal gain or loss isn't worth mentioning. The more a sword immortal seedling is delayed, the more dire the consequences. The later you start climbing the mountain and practicing the sword, the slower you take every step."
Yuan Bai gazed at the opposite peak, perpetually covered in snow, and said softly, "I hope that one day, the children of old Zhu Ying can occupy several peaks in Zhengyang Mountain, support each other, and not be bullied by outsiders."
Jin Qing hesitated for a moment, then spoke via mental message: "Earlier, Liu Laocheng found me. He said that the upper sect of Zhenjing Sect, the sect master Wei Ying, intends to make a deal with Zhengyang Mountain. In exchange, Wei Ying wants to recruit you. As for what specific conditions the Yugui Sect will pay, Liu Laocheng didn't elaborate. So I want to hear your opinion: do you have any intention of leaving Zhengyang Mountain? If you nod your head, I'll take care of the negotiations with Liu Laocheng and Zhu Huang. You don't even need to show your face."
Jin Qing said this, feeling gratified in his heart. "Being so valued by a great sword immortal like Wei Ying—that's rare."
Wei Ying, Wei Jin, and Bai Shang were now the three leading sword cultivators of the continent, and all three had the potential to take another step forward, one day reaching the Flying Ascension realm.
As the Lord of the Continent's Great Peak, Jin Qing was proficient in aura-watching techniques—he had that degree of insight.
Yuan Bai was stunned, then a hint of laughter appeared in his eyes. He couldn't help but smile. "Lord Shan Jin has come to poach talents this time?"
Jin Qing crossed his arms and sneered. "Otherwise, what, come to congratulate Zhengyang Mountain? I didn't even bring a gift—I came empty-handed."
---
Zhengyang Mountain's money deity Tao Yanbo, Tao Zi, the white-clad old ape, the Xu couple from Qingfeng City, and their legitimate son Xu Binxian.
These six were gathered at Qiuling Mountain, the ancestral property of the Tao family. Among all of Zhengyang Mountain's peaks, Qiuling Mountain was second only to First Peak in terms of feng shui treasures; it was even more suitable for cultivation and sword practice than Xia Yuancui's Shuimo Peak.
Tao Zi had grown into a graceful young woman, and Xu Binxian had the appearance of a dashing young master of a noble family. In their early years, a female Daoist wandering the clouds had come to Qingfeng City and personally named the infant Xu Binxian, a name with excellent connotations—"civil and martial, a man of the mountains."
The two of the same generation stood together like a divine couple, a perfect match. They were indeed about to become Dao partners in the mountains. Both Tao Zi and Xu Binxian were now Dragon Gate realm. Even if they didn't form Golden Cores within a hundred years, they had hope within sixty years. And they were both only just over thirty years old, and both were sword cultivators.
The white-clad old ape said in a harsh tone, direct and blunt, "Are we just going to let the theft of the Fox Kingdom slide like this?"
It was a huge joke. The vast Fox Kingdom had vanished into thin air, and after all these years, Qingfeng City still hadn't even figured out who was behind it.
In the future, when the Xu family proposed marriage to Zhengyang Mountain, what substantial betrothal gifts could Qingfeng City produce?
Was the Xu family just going to stare at Zhengyang Mountain's dowry?
Old Master Tao Yanbo held the lid of his teacup, gently stirring the mist over the tea. This Imperial Tutor Yuan, who always spoke harshly, had today spoken rare pleasant words.
After hearing that the Fox Kingdom had vanished without a trace, Tao Yanbo had even regretted this marriage alliance. If not for Xu Hun having ascended to the upper fifth realm and Qingfeng City also becoming a sect of the first rank, Qiuling Mountain and Qingfeng City could have long gone their separate ways—one on the bright road, the other on the single-plank bridge. But without the Fox Kingdom, Qingfeng City had suffered a severe blow. Tao Zi marrying there would be too great a grievance.
And Qingfeng City really was too unseemly. If they had even the slightest clue, even just a few suspects, given Xu Hun's realm and Qingfeng City's own foundation, plus their marital alliance with the Great Li Pillar State's Yuan clan, and with Qiuling Mountain backing them up—who on the entire Bottle Gourd Continent would dare not return the Fox Kingdom peacefully?
Xu Hun frowned slightly.
The woman smiled stiffly. "Still investigating."
The white-clad old ape pressed his palm against the armrest of his chair. "What's there to investigate? If you suspect someone, go directly to their doorstep, dig three feet into the ground, and you'll find it. What, could it be that Qingfeng City doesn't even have a single suspect?"
Xu Binxian smiled. "Grandpa Yuan, I suspect it has something to do with Fallen Mountain. But over there they have the Longquan Sword Sect and Piyun Mountain, so it's not easy to cause trouble."
The old-established sects of Bottle Gourd Continent wouldn't do such a morally corrupt thing.
The white-clad old ape glanced at this brat who had loved wearing bright red dharma robes since childhood, and sneered, "Ruan Qiong and Wei Po are only Jade Pu realm. Besides, you're just looking for trouble at Fallen Mountain. Even if Ruan Qiong and Wei Po want to meddle, there are plenty of taboos. Fallen Mountain isn't their subordinate sect. What's so hard about causing trouble? Take it to the Great Li court—Qingfeng City isn't in the wrong."
Wei Jin of Wind Snow Temple, Liu Laocheng of Letterbox Lake, Wei Po of Piyun Mountain, Yuan Zhenye of Zhengyang Mountain.
Sword immortals, wild cultivators, mountain gods, spirits. Different paths, but they had all ascended to the upper fifth realm one after another. And crucially, all of them carried a continent's fortune.
Tao Zi smiled. "Grandpa Yuan, Qingfeng City has its difficulties. Since things have come to this, don't rub salt in the wound."
The white-clad old ape turned his head and laughed. "Silly girl, you haven't even married yet, and you're already water spilled out. That makes Grandpa Yuan sad."
Tao Zi said sweetly, "In the future, Grandpa Yuan can help move mountains to Qingfeng City and just cultivate there year-round. As for this side of Zhengyang Mountain, what need is there for a mountain-protecting sacrificial officer? With Grandpa Yuan's prestige, who would dare to provoke Zhengyang Mountain? That Huang He of Wind and Thunder Garden only dared to show off his meager swordsmanship as far away as Egret Crossing; he didn't even dare take a look at Grandpa Yuan."
The young woman smiled charmingly, and the white-clad old ape laughed heartily.
The Xu woman covered her mouth and laughed, while Xu Binxian shared a knowing smile.
Only Xu Hun remained expressionless, twitching the corner of his mouth before lowering his head to drink tea. He sighed inwardly. This young girl was no simple lamp to save oil. Whether her marriage into Qingfeng City would be a blessing or a curse remained to be seen.
But as long as he could ascend to the Immortal realm, everything could be handled.
Tao Yanbo glanced at Xu Hun and said abruptly, "According to intelligence from the Yuye River Water Mansion, Liu Xianyang is already a Golden Core sword cultivator."
That mole-armor that Xu Hun had refined into his natal object was the heirloom of Liu Xianyang from Lizhu Cave Heaven.
Xu Hun said calmly, "It seems Liu Xianyang's talent for cultivation is indeed very good. It shows Sage Ruan's eye for choosing disciples is even better."
Tao Yanbo's expression changed slightly.
The young Golden Core sword cultivator who had already opened a peak on Zhengyang Mountain was named Yu Lin. As a youth, he had been an unquestionable sword immortal seedling, almost becoming a direct disciple of the Longquan Sword Sect. He had even trained for a time on that sect's ancestral mountain, Shenxiu Mountain. But for some reason, Ruan Qiong had ultimately sent this young genius, destined to form a Golden Core, down the mountain. So Yu Lin, along with two other former "fellow disciples" of the Longquan Sword Sect, had transferred to Zhengyang Mountain. When Yu Lin first ascended the mountain, during a Patriarch Hall meeting, old sword immortal Tao Yanbo selected him and brought him to Qiuling Mountain to train. Yu Lin received considerable guidance from Tao Yanbo. Even later, when he opened his own peak and established his mansion, he still belonged to the Qiuling Mountain lineage of sword cultivators.
If Xu Hun said Ruan Qiong's eye for choosing disciples was excellent, then what did Tao Yanbo's high hopes for Yu Lin mean?
The Xu woman quickly acted as peacemaker. "Missing out on Yu Lin is definitely a great loss for the Longquan Sword Sect. Yu Lin is now Golden Core; within a century, Infant Soul can be expected. He will surely be a great pillar for Qiuling Mountain. Just wait until Old Ancestor Tao ascends to the upper fifth realm. In future First Peak Patriarch Hall meetings, as long as Old Ancestor Tao doesn't nod, no proposal will pass."
Tao Yanbo stroked his beard and smiled. "I can't say that. What would that leave for Sect Leader and Senior Xia?"
Then he picked up his teacup, raising it high, and changed the subject: "This celebration has earthly immortals gathered like clouds—a grand event unprecedented in our Bottle Gourd Continent in a thousand years. Here, I use tea as wine to congratulate Old Ancestor Yuan."
The white-clad old ape nodded, picked up his teacup, and drank it in one gulp.
This mountain-protecting sacrificial officer of Zhengyang Mountain suddenly said, "Find an opportunity later, I'll casually kill Liu Xianyang. Consider it part of Tao Zi's dowry."
---
Within Zhengyang Mountain's eight-hundred-li private territory, there was a river called Nianbo River. The river god's temple was built beside Kaiyan Canal. Two cultivators went out for a walk and night-toured to this spot.
After Jiang Shangzhen and Wei Ying came Liu Laocheng, the third sect master of Zhenjing Sect, accompanied by the sect's second-ranked sacrificial officer, a female Infant Soul cultivator named Li Fuqu.
As for the chief sacrificial officer who had come with them to congratulate Zhengyang Mountain, Jiejiang Lord Liu Zhimao, he had gone drinking with mountain friends.
Li Fuqu saw that Liu Laocheng had remained silent the whole way, heading straight for Kaiyan Canal as if he had made an appointment with someone. But Li Fuqu was cautious by nature; since the sect master didn't mention it, she didn't ask.
Liu Laocheng spotted a figure from afar sitting alone on the canal embankment, drinking wine. It was an old mountain friend, the former chief of the Invincible Fist Gang, Gao Mian.
Liu Laocheng's mood improved slightly. Breaking his silence, he asked casually, "What's with that Guo Chunxi from Xianyou County? I don't see any cultivation talent in him. Why did you accept him as an unregistered disciple?"
Li Fuqu replied, "It was Old Sect Master Jiang's intention. He gave Guo a token and told him to go to Gongliu Island and specifically ask for me. I didn't dare take it lightly."
Liu Laocheng nodded. That made sense. Jiang Shangzhen did things based on whims, without any logic.
The current Zhenjing Sect had no obvious mountain factions. At most, there was a distant relationship between Liu Zhimao and him, the sect master.
It wasn't that Liu Laocheng and Liu Zhimao were both ascetic and indifferent to power. Quite the opposite—both these upper fifth realm cultivators who had risen from wild cultivators—one an Immortal, the other a Jade Pu—had once been overlords in places like Gongliu Island and Qingxia Island in Letterbox Lake, commanding many. How could they focus only on cultivation? It was just that the two previous sect masters from Tongye Continent, plus the old sect master Xun Yuan—every one of them had such deep schemes and methods that they inspired fear.
Liu Laocheng walked up to Gao Mian and greeted him with a smile. "Old Gao."
Gao Mian turned his head, glanced at Li Fuqu, and complained, "You don't know to bring a couple of younger girls to accompany the drinking? How do you manage being a sect master?"
Liu Laocheng sat down beside him, chuckling.
Li Fuqu couldn't help but feel annoyed, but she was helpless. Everyone on the continent knew what kind of person this old chief was. Moreover, Li Fuqu was also aware of a piece of inside information: in the old days, when Old Sect Master Xun Yuan had traveled alone to Bottle Gourd Continent, he had specifically come to visit Gao Mian to reminisce. It was said he was scolded every day and enjoyed it. So whether it was Jiang Shangzhen or Wei Ying, they both treated Gao Mian with great respect. Li Fuqu naturally didn't dare overstep. Besides, during the great battle, the Invincible Fist Gang had suffered heavy casualties among its disciples. Especially Gao Mian—it was said that on the battlefield by the Great River, he had nearly had his Longevity Bridge severed by a great demon, barely holding onto his Golden Core realm. So even though this old shameless Gao Mian was notorious for liking Mirror and Moon shows, as long as he didn't get handsy tonight and only talked dirty, Li Fuqu was willing to tolerate it.
Liu Laocheng took the wine jar that Gao Mian tossed over and took a big gulp.
Gao Mian said, "I'll definitely miss Immortal He, but I wonder if I'll get to see Immortal Su."
Liu Laocheng shook his head. "Su Jia isn't even a sword cultivator anymore, and Zhengyang Mountain isn't a place known for human warmth. It's unlikely she'll return."
Gao Mian said, "Not coming back is good too."
Liu Laocheng asked, "How about your sect?"
Gao Mian grinned. "Before coming to Zhengyang Mountain, I'd already stepped down. A lousy Golden Core doesn't have the face to issue orders. The only pity is that such a good name as Invincible Fist Gang will probably be changed by those howling brats."
Liu Laocheng said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but whether you're the chief or not, me and Zhenjing Sect will keep an eye on your legacy."
Gao Mian waved his hand. "I don't want to hear it. Old Liu, you owe yourself half a jar. Anyway, if you get drunk, Sister Fuqu can carry you back. Just remember to keep your hands honest."
Liu Laocheng said, "I plan to make Li Fuqu a sacrificial officer for your gang."
Gao Mian nodded. "Whatever. I'm not in charge anymore. As long as Sister Fuqu doesn't think it's beneath her."
Li Fuqu said, "I'd be delighted."
Gao Mian turned his head, leaned forward, reached out and pushed Liu Laocheng's head aside to look at Li Fuqu. "What, are you charmed by Old Gao's heroic spirit and secretly admired me for a long time?"
Li Fuqu smiled. "Not at all."
Gao Mian asked, "You like pretty boys like Jiang Shangzhen and Wei Ying?"
Li Fuqu's scalp tingled. She remained silent.
Gao Mian withdrew his hand, clinked his jar against Liu Laocheng's, and they each drank.
Gao Mian looked around at the plum blossoms planted along Kaiyan Canal. The old man sighed, "How much fortune do mountain folk have, to enjoy these plum blossoms?"
Liu Laocheng suddenly sent a mental message: "Old Gao, don't be so down. You didn't see any immortal beauties you fancy, but there's some excitement to watch."
Gao Mian snorted. "Excitement? Something like Huang He? Doesn't seem interesting. But next time Huang He challenges First Peak, I'll definitely come to see it with my own eyes."
Liu Laocheng smiled and said nothing more.
Gao Mian asked doubtfully, "How much excitement?"
Liu Laocheng pointed at First Peak.
Gao Mian asked in shock, "What divine being has such dog's guts?"
Liu Laocheng kept him in suspense. "Just wait."
Gao Mian took a swig of wine. "No matter what, as long as someone dares to make trouble at First Peak, success or failure aside, I'll give them a thumbs-up. That's a real man."
---
A mountain drinking party, all arranged early, was a reunion of old friends.
Arriving at different peaks of Zhengyang Mountain, they each left their sect elders and came to meet for drinks. Among them, Han Jingling, as a reigning monarch, had a private residence on this peak.
Besides Han Jingling, who had long been the emperor of Shihao State, and Huang He, who had served as Minister of War for several years, there were also Tian Hujun—Liu Zhimao's senior disciple—and his two junior brothers, Qin Que and Chao Zhe. Also present were Lyu Caisang, junior brother of the island master of Huangli Island; Yuan Yuan, the chubby young master of Guiming Island; and Fan Yan, once considered a fool by everyone, now lord of Chishui City.
So except for Gu Can, everyone had arrived.
In the end, the main topic of conversation naturally revolved around Gu Can, who had originally brought them together—that direct disciple of Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City.
But everyone deliberately avoided mentioning another person: the foreigner in blue who had worked as an accountant on Qingxia Island.
The Immortal Han Qiaose, the junior of Liu Daochun of Liuli Pavilion, the junior brother of the White Emperor Fu Jin...
Gu Can, this demon king of Letterbox Lake, had leapt over the dragon gate as if transformed, ascending to heaven. It was said that Gu Can himself was already a Jade Pu realm peak cultivator, and in Middle Earth Divine Continent, he had earned the title of "Madman"...
One by one, tales of Gu Can's exploits were perfect dishes to accompany the night's drinking.
Perhaps except for Tian Hujun, who harbored her own thoughts, everyone else felt honored to have known Gu Can in Letterbox Lake.
At the banquet, over a dozen colorful female puppets danced gracefully, their joints creaking.
And Tian Hujun's master, Liu Zhimao, was visiting someone tonight: the vice-mountain chief of Linlu Academy at Piyun Mountain—the ten-thousand-year-old old flood dragon that had seemed to deliberately slow its realm advancement in the former Huangting State.
Because Liu Zhimao practiced water methods, he was an old acquaintance of the old flood dragon. In fact, Liu Zhimao's relationship with the flood dragon of Qiantang River's feng shui cave was also not bad.
Liu Zhimao sent a mental message inquiring about something he'd been curious about for a long time: "Why did you let Yuan Zhenye take the fortune that should have belonged to you?"
The old flood dragon, in the guise of an elderly Confucian scholar, smiled. "How would I, a humble water spirit from a remote corner, dare to compete with the Great Moving Mountain Saint in realm-breaking?"
Liu Zhimao raised his cup with a smile. "Makes sense."
---
At Boyun Peak, mountain gods from all over the continent had gathered, led by the Mountain God of Caizhi Mountain, the storage-peak of the Southern Marchmount.
Nearby, Shuilong Peak was the domain of Zhengyang Mountain's Law Ancestor Yan Chu. Water gods and water immortals had gathered there for an evening of wine, led by the highest-ranked god, the Yong River Water God.
These two groups of mountain and water spirits clinked cups through the night, because drinking at the actual celebration ceremony wouldn't be as unrestrained.
On Old Master Xia Yuancui's Full Moon Peak, the guests from the Yunlin Jiang Clan had settled there. In truth, they were all young members of the Jiang Clan, but each had a special status: the Confucian Academy gentleman Jiang Shan from Guanhu Academy; Jiang Yun, whose master was Liu Laocheng; Jiang Sheng, who had married far away to the Fu family of Old Dragon City; and two other guests not named Jiang, including Fu Nanhua, who had gone to another peak to meet friends. Husband and wife were estranged, treating each other with respect like visiting guests, not interfering with each other.
Wei Liang, who had gradually risen from the Great General of Qingluan State to the Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of Personnel in the Great Li auxiliary capital, had left Full Moon Peak along with Fu Nanhua, each going to find their own drink.
The Xu woman's earlier polite words weren't entirely flattery. With heavenly time, earthly advantages, and human harmony all aligned, Zhengyang Mountain seemed blessed. Within this eight-hundred-li radius, the gathering of earthly immortal cultivators was truly rare.
So at one drinking table, a registered cultivator, tipsy, asked his friend beside him, "How many Huang Hes would it take to successfully challenge the mountain?"
Someone said at least three; another said it would take five. After all, no matter how talented Huang He was and how high his swordsmanship, he was only in the Infant Soul realm now. As for Zhengyang Mountain, even without considering all the visiting guests, they had two upper fifth realm cultivators of their own. Add to that Sect Leader Zhu Huang, Tao Yanbo, and Yan Chu—three old Infant Soul sword immortals—saying five was already giving Huang He plenty of face. As they chatted excitedly, they finally concluded that not even a Flying Ascension realm great cultivator would dare cause trouble here.
---
On an official Great Li ferry heading toward Zhengyang Mountain, the master was Cao Ping, the second Patrol Envoy in Great Li history.
Guan Yiran had come along to freeload. Right now, he was in a cabin room, drinking a bowl of iced plum wine. The other two at the table were old friends of many years: Yu Shanfang and Qi Qi. Like Guan Yiran, they had both been army-attached cultivators in the Great Li border forces. Qi Qi, a female cultivator from Wind Snow Temple, was slender but carried a broad-sheathed greatsword. As for Yu Shanfang, who had left the battlefield years ago, he had grown quite plump.
As a member of the Guan clan of Yunzai Commandery in Yi Prefecture, Guan Yiran had first enlisted and served as a border army-attached cultivator. Through military merit, he climbed step by step in the Great Li border forces. When the Great Li iron cavalry marched south, Guan Yiran became a garrison general responsible for defending Yunlou City in Letterbox Lake. Later, together with civil official Liu Qingfeng and another general's son, Liu Xunmei, he served as a supervisor of the Great River's construction. After Guan Yiran left his post as supervisor of Qi Crossing, he filled a vacancy in the Ministry of Revenue in the capital. But unlike Liu Qingfeng, who rose to become a vice minister, Guan Yiran—the great-great-grandson of Old Minister Guan—ended up with a lower official rank than an outsider like Liu Qingfeng. In the Great Li capital, especially on Chi'er Street and Yizhi Lane, this caused quite a bit of speculation, mostly voices of grievance on his behalf.
Yu Shanfang, under Guan Yiran's instruction in the early years, had served as one of the newly established Supervisory Transport Officers, specifically managing the mountain ferry route along the Dragon Path.
The canal waterways of the mortal dynasties and the ferry routes of the mountain immortals—one flowed with endless silver, and the other with even more immortal coins.
The highest-ranking Supervisory Transport Officer initially held a senior third-rank position in Great Li. Later, it was raised by one grade to deputy second-rank. The Supervisory Transport General Office was built on the banks of the Great River, not within the Great Li auxiliary capital. It was responsible for over thirty mountain ferry routes across Bottle Gourd Continent. After the war ended and the Great Li territory was halved, only about twenty routes remained.
Yu Shanfang managed one of the most important north-south Dragon Path routes. So even though his official rank wasn't that high—only deputy fourth-rank—he was one of the earliest "veterans" of the Transport Office. With real power in hand and the Dragon Path route being extremely critical, it was a very lucrative position. So over the past two decades, Yu Shanfang had done quite well for himself in the Great Li local officialdom. Given his duties, he interacted frequently with immortal masters from all over the continent, accumulating quite a few personal friendships and connections.
On the table were dishes to accompany the wine: a large platter of drunken shrimp. Guan Yiran smacked his lips in surprise. "Yo, Old Yu, you've really learned how to be an official—you know how to invest in bribery now?"
This big platter wasn't full of ordinary river shrimp. These were "river dragons" from the Dragon Path, nicknamed "silver" in southern Bottle Gourd Continent—a delicacy much loved by both mountain and mortal gourmands.
Guan Yiran held his bowl in one hand and used his chopsticks to poke at the "drunken" "silvers," most of which were about half an inch long, with a few "river dragons" about a finger-length. He picked one out, put it in Qi Qi's bowl, and said, "We're both benefiting from Supervisor Yu's generosity today. What we're eating is essentially solid Snow Flower coins."
Yu Shanfang laughed and cursed, "Bribe your grandpa. I sold my iron pots and used my own salary to buy these. Don't eat if you don't want to."
Guan Yiran put one foot on the bench, hunched his shoulders, and waited until Qi Qi finished chewing slowly. Then he shot Yu Shanfang a surreptitious wink. Yu Shanfang grinned.
Qi Qi put down her chopsticks and left the room to chat with others.
She was a military cultivator from the Danigou branch of Wind Snow Temple. This time, there was also a senior from her sect—a Wenqing Peak graduate who had also served many years as an army-attached cultivator for Great Li.
However, Wind Snow Temple had a very poor opinion of Zhengyang Mountain, especially Qi Qi's Danigou branch. So when she came down the mountain this time, both she and the Wenqing Peak senior were purely visiting friends. When the ferry neared Zhengyang Mountain, they would disembark.
On the ferry tonight, besides Guan Yiran, an official in the capital, there was also Liu Xunmei from the auxiliary capital.
Guan Yiran had once been a general under Su Gaoshan, while Liu Xunmei was a genuine trusted general of Cao Ping.
At the bow of the ship, Qi Qi saw the woman wearing a Great Li border army saber. She was unchanged in appearance year-round: when out of armor, she wore a narrow-sleeved brocade robe, ink-colored silk trousers, and embroidered slippers with two pearl-like beads hanging from each toe. Qi Qi called out, "Senior Yu." The woman turned her head and nodded without any change in expression. Qi Qi was long used to it. The only person who could make Senior Yu Huiring smile was probably that senior grandmaster at Wind Snow Temple's Immortal Terrace.
Cao Ping was a famous Confucian general in the Great Li court, graceful and refined. But right now, his expression was extremely awkward.
Cao Jun, whose ancestral home was in Mud Vase Alley, had once been Liu Xunmei's right-hand man. But in terms of seniority, he was Cao Ping's... ancestor.
So the three people present—the roguish Cao Jun, who had left the Great Li army many years ago, traveled to Tongye Continent, and now was busy flattering his former superior Liu Xunmei, very cynical; Liu Xunmei, who held the concurrent post of Right Vice Minister of Military in the Great Li auxiliary capital, could only sit on pins and needles, keeping his eyes on his nose and his nose on his heart; and Cao Ping himself, who said nothing. He truly didn't know how to address this "young" sword cultivator Cao Jun. According to the family genealogy, although Cao Jun's seniority wasn't as high as Sword Immortal Cao Xi's, the Cao lineage in Lizhu Cave Heaven had divided into different branches. Still, Cao Jun's seniority was clearly established.
---
At daybreak.
A young Daoist with a jade hairpin and a blue gauze Daoist robe descended from Guoyun Tower and strolled all the way to Egret Crossing.
Near the ferry, it was bustling. Registered immortal masters, having obtained their travel permits, were summoning immortal talisman boats or riding various immortal birds and mounts to head for the peaks of Zhengyang Mountain. The wild cultivators mostly turned to settle in nearby prefectures and cities.
After walking for half an hour, the young Daoist returned to the mountain. To his surprise, Ni Yuerong was waiting at the door, saying that the inn had prepared breakfast and earnestly invited Immortal Master Cao to enjoy it.
But the Daoist again politely declined. Ni Yuerong was secretly angry—what a huge airs he was putting on.
When Chen Ping'an returned to the observation deck, Liu Xianyang was still sleeping soundly in his wicker chair.
Chen Ping'an walked to the railing, hesitating whether to sneak away alone, concealing his form, to visit the Immortal's Back-Sword Peak. But after thinking it over, he decided to postpone it for now.
Nowadays, on the continent's five marchmounts, the Great Li Song clan and the mountain sects all avoided talking about them.
Once, the entire Bottle Gourd Continent was surnamed Song. The Great Li dynasty's five marchmounts were naturally the five marchmounts of Bottle Gourd Continent—no problem there.
But when the Great Li Song clan honored the covenant and voluntarily gave up nearly half the continent, allowing their various vassals to become independent, the new Great Li territory was halved. Then the four marchmounts besides the Northern Marchmount became somewhat delicate.
So only Piyun Mountain and Wei Po remained at ease.
No matter how things changed, the Northern Marchmount was fine. The most awkward situation was that of Jin Qing, the Lord of the Central Marchmount, which lay within the old Zhu Ying territory.
Because the Central Marchmount had become the southernmost great marchmount of the new Great Li territory. Changing the title of a marchmount wasn't just a matter of changing a name on the Great Li Song clan's landscape registry. It would not only injure the Central Marchmount itself but also affect its storage-peaks and all the mountains and rivers' fortune within its jurisdiction. It was said that Jin Qing always suffered setbacks at Wei Po's hands, never gaining any advantage. Yet among the marchmount lords, Jin Qing actually liked to compete with Wei Po. He would occasionally send a flying sword letter to Piyun Mountain, mentioning which great writer had made a cliff inscription or composed a famous poem. And of course, he would humbly ask Wei Po for advice on hosting night tours—in this regard, Lord Wei was a senior authority recognized across several continents.
In fact, the nickname "Wei Night Traveler" had first spread from Fallen Mountain.
It seemed that Chen Lingjun had first proposed it, and then the incense-fire little fellow, who came to Fallen Mountain to clock in on time, had popularized it, bringing it back to the prefecture's city god. Now this guy had gathered a bunch of little minions, saying he was going to help Alliance Leader Pei Qian establish a branch in the prefectural city. They drilled and practiced martial arts every day, using small tree branches as spears. Gradually, the entire Dragon Prefecture knew about Wei Night Traveler. Once Dragon Prefecture knew, the entire Northern Marchmount had heard of it.
Chen Lingjun had flatly denied it, saying that Lord Wei had wronged him. The young boy in blue stood at the cliffside stone table, crying and beating his chest, swearing he was not that kind of person. It must be that old cook talking nonsense while drunk, or maybe Pei Qian. Yes, definitely her—that girl's talent for giving nicknames was second to none on Fallen Mountain. Or it could have been a slip of the tongue from little Mi Li.
In the end, it became a messy account.
The truth was that Pei Qian had first come up with the nickname, but back then she had been joking privately with Nuanshu and Mi Li. When Zhou Mili heard it, she thought it sounded impressive and grand, and couldn't help mumbling it during her mountain patrol. Chen Lingjun overheard it. The speaker had no intention, but the listener had a purpose. Through some chain of events, it later became "Famous Throughout the Northern Marchmount."
As a result, the prefectural city god, who usually cared least about officialdom, nearly had to personally go to Piyun Mountain to apologize and beg forgiveness from Lord Wei Po.
Even if it was consistent with the facts, you couldn't openly mock someone like that.
The vast Northern Marchmount territory, overseeing the place where the Great Li Song clan had risen—was Wei Po really such an easygoing mountain lord who could be casually slighted?
What had happened to Song Yuzhang, the mountain god who moved from Fallen Mountain to Qidun Mountain? Was that just a routine transfer in the landscape officialdom?
When Wei Po had gone to the border between the Northern and Central Marchmounts back then, what was he doing? Visiting? It was obvious: unless Jin Qing, the Central Marchmount Lord, bowed his head, Wei Po would attack.
On the map of Bottle Gourd Continent, Wei Po was the first mountain god to ascend to the upper fifth realm, the first to become a mountain god of the Immortal realm. Would he also be the first to reach the Flying Ascension realm? Judging by the current situation, there wasn't much suspense. As long as the Great Li Song clan could hold onto half the continent...
That incense-fire little fellow was truly terrified. He had rarely seen the prefectural city god so serious—genuinely angry. At the time, he had stood timidly inside the incense burner, both hands tightly gripping the edge.
In the past, he had always liked to run away from home, but in truth, every time it was just a stroll outside before returning—like clocking in extra time at Fallen Mountain, or returning to his "hometown" of Mantou Mountain near Hongzhu Town, flaunting his success.
Fortunately, that guy had only scowled for half a day, sitting on the doorstep sulking. In the end, he just said to the little fellow, "Don't talk nonsense from now on."
Chen Lingjun was actually feeling guilty too, but he still insisted, comforting the incense-fire little fellow with a few words. "So what if you made a mistake? No one is a sage without faults. It's only human. Besides, we admit our mistakes. It's not like we don't. If Lord Wei wants to scold or hit, let him. Whoever flinches is a coward." As the boy in blue comforted the dejected little fellow, he reached this point and met eyes with the incense-fire little fellow standing on the stone table. They both burst out laughing—because neither of them were human anyway.
The incense-fire little fellow laughed harder and harder, clutching his stomach, rolling around on the table.
Today, Mi Yu happened to come here for a change of scenery. Watching the big one and the little one by the table, Mi Yu's eyes were gentle. He sat down and looked at the melon seeds on the table, asking with a smile, "That's all?"
Chen Lingjun rolled his eyes. "Little Mi Li isn't home. I don't know where she hid her stash. Savor them carefully. If you weren't a good buddy, would I share so many with you? Look at this guy—he only has one seed. That's the limit."
The incense-fire little fellow was busy "chiseling a mountain" on a single melon seed. He nodded vigorously, then suddenly exchanged glances with Chen Lingjun, and they both burst out laughing again.
All these years, rain or shine, he had come to Fallen Mountain to check in. Pei Qian, Jing Qing, Nuanshu, Little Mi Li—they were all reasons.
The three of them each cracked their seeds. Chen Lingjun asked casually, "Yu Mi, is your sword practice talent not so good? I hear you haven't broken through in many years."
Chen Lingjun added, "No offense meant. Don't overthink it."
Mi Yu smiled. "To be honest, my talent is passable. Not too bad."
Chen Lingjun exclaimed angrily, "What's this? Among brothers, no empty talk. You're a good-looking guy—why puff yourself up? I won't allow you to degrade yourself."
Mi Yu laughed. "What kind of custom is this?"
Chen Lingjun snickered. "If your talent isn't good, just say so. Let brothers have a laugh. That's a good thing too."
The master, Pei Qian, Little Mi Li were all away from home. Nuan Shu, that silly girl, was busy here and there. So it was a bit dull.
The incense-fire little fellow coughed to remind Brother Jing Qing not to get too cocky. Yu Mi was still a sword cultivator, after all—don't insult him too much.
Mi Yu laughed. "I'm not lying to you. Bragging can't fill the stomach. My talent is indeed just so-so."
Mi Yu had entered the middle fifth realm at age seven, Golden Core at nineteen, Infant Soul at forty-two. After that came a long period of stagnation. When he finally broke through to Jade Pu, he got stuck again.
Luo Shan of the old Summer Retreat Hidden Official lineage, Yin Chen who liked to face the wall, the money-grubber Nalan Caihuan—these were all Mi Yu's peers among the sword cultivators. In the old days, they had all looked up to him.
Qi Shou was a very young junior; his combat path followed Mi Yu's old route.
Of course, Mi Yu wasn't the first to walk that path. Nalan Yexing and Yan Ming had both walked it earlier. Even earlier, there were older sword cultivators. The earliest was probably the Dragon Lord.
Perhaps it was because Mi Yu had been too brilliant in his youth—especially his record of killing demons in the Golden Core and Infant Soul realms, so glorious that even Xiao Xun, the previous Hidden Official of the Summer Retreat, had regarded him with special respect. Among the sword immortals, Wu Chengpei and Tao Wen had both been very impressed with Mi Yu, though they never publicly spoke in his favor.
So later, the mockery Mi Yu received on the Sword Qi Great Wall was, to a large extent, a kind of disappointment—lamenting his misfortune and angering at his lack of struggle. Here was a genius sword cultivator, hailed from a young age as a top candidate for the peak, who had turned into an embroidered pillow, a soft and useless waste. How could breaking through the Infant Soul bottleneck be so hard? Even after ascending to the upper fifth realm, his sword strikes showed less than half the brilliance of his Infant Soul days.
His sword heart was shattered.
Otherwise, the old men, young men, and even children on the Sword Qi Great Wall wouldn't have been so critical of a Jade Pu realm sword cultivator. Wasn't Sun Juyuan also Jade Pu? How come he didn't have so much infamy?
Chen Lingjun said, "Yu Mi, if you feel bored on the mountain, I can take you out for some fun. Have you heard of the Yu River in Huangting State? Eating and drinking well is nothing. Every banquet, the female officials of the water god mansions, tsk-tsk, with their graceful figures and flamboyant appearances, those narrow waists and big hips... Of course, I don't see anything good about it. They all wear so little, it's like the cloth shops in the world are going to close. But every time we drink, a bunch of drunken old men stare at them, their eyes like flying swords, whoosh-whoosh, all sticking to them. Ha, Yu Mi, since you're a sword cultivator..."
The incense-fire little fellow started laughing again until his stomach hurt.
Chen Lingjun glared at him. What are you laughing at, you idiot? Uncle Chen is discussing serious business with his brother.
The incense-fire little fellow stopped laughing with lightning speed. Damn it, all that cheerleading for nothing.
It was hard being in officialdom.
Mi Yu laughed. "I appreciate the kindness. But I don't need to go out. I'm a nostalgic person. I don't like to move; staying on the mountain is good enough for me."
The places he wanted to go were only two: Caique Manor in the north, where he had spent a few years, and Old Dragon City in the south. He'd heard that immortal masters were now moving mountains into the sea, and several clans, including the Fu family, were working to rebuild Old Dragon City. What Mi Yu couldn't forget was the Lotus Pool at the southernmost tip of Old Dragon City—that was Mi Yu's greatest regret.
It was gone, just like that.
That was the first sight he had seen when he first set foot on the land of Haoran World.
Chen Lingjun asked, "Why did the master go south?"
Mi Yu smiled. "He has a sword to deliver."
Chen Lingjun didn't ask further.
---
The Great Li dynasty's emperor, Song He, left the capital for the first time to travel south, stationed at the auxiliary capital. Soon he would tour the Central Marchmount, then go to the ruins of Old Dragon City to pay tribute to the martyrs.
The vassal king Song Mu accompanied the emperor out of the city today. The two brothers—the emperor and the vassal king, who had changed their names in the Imperial Clan Office's registry—walked together by the Qi River.
The Great Li sacrificial officers and attendants followed far behind.
Song Jixin teased, "Your Majesty, didn't you attend the Confucian Temple deliberation? A chance to see all the peak old immortals of Haoran—such an opportunity, once missed, is gone forever. What a pity."
Song He smiled. "I definitely wanted to go. But the Imperial Uncle was more suited to speak for Great Li there. If I had just become emperor, I might have complained. Now, I'll let it go."
In the capital, old Minister Guan of the Ministry of Personnel, that scholar named Guan Yingche, a mortal who lived to be a hundred years old, had been gone for many years.
Also, several elders from the Pillar State clans—the pillars of Yizhi Lane and Chi'er Street, the bulwark ministers of the Great Li dynasty who had helped the Great Li Song clan defeat the Lu dynasty and conquer an entire continent—they, too, had succumbed to relentless time.
In the auxiliary capital, the old Minister of Rites, Liu Qingfeng, had also fallen ill and could no longer rise.
Many old men in the Great Li court, even civil officials who hadn't needed to go to the battlefield, were aging one by one. Some grew too old to walk, couldn't attend the morning court, and had to leave officialdom one after another. It seemed the only things in the capital that remained ancient were the trees—the green parasol tree outside Minister Guan's study, the wisteria blossoms of the Han family that hung like purple clouds and filled the streets with fragrance, and the single peony in Baoguo Temple—still blessed to meet the spring breeze every year.
The mansion of National Master Cui Chan in the capital was large—once an old Marquis residence—but sparsely furnished inside. There was a two-story small book pavilion that the National Master had named "Echoing Others Pavilion."
Now it, too, was without an owner.
The emperor laughed. "Times change, things shift—dizzying to behold."
Many scholars of the Great Li Song dynasty, back when it was still a vassal of the Lu dynasty, had written too many landscape poems and travelogues praising this suzerain state, acting more like Lu subjects than the people of Lu itself. When writing about their own Great Li homeland, they were uninspired. But when writing about the Lu dynasty, their thoughts flowed like a spring, even if they had to rack their brains to do so.
They said that even the porters and peddlers of the Lu dynasty could compose poetry, that every household was a scholarly family. The immortals on the mountains were transcendent, the heroes in the rivers and lakes were righteous, and no one picked up lost items on the road.
In those days, Great Li's poems were written in the desert frontier winds, composed by the rhythmic hooves of iron cavalry. The accompanying rhyme was the biting wind and snow.
Song He smiled and asked, "Is it only in our Bottle Gourd Continent that mountains are not high, waters not deep, and cultivators not so immortal?"
Down in the mortal world, the Great Li dynasty had once erected a stele on a mountain peak: "Mountain cultivators who violate the law shall be killed without mercy."
Song Jixin replied, "Half of it is because the hooves of the Great Li iron cavalry were loud enough; half is the National Master's merit."
Song He asked again, "Was the order wrong?"
Song Jixin smiled. "Your Majesty speaks truly."
Song He was Cui Chan's disciple; Song Jixin was considered Qi Jingchun's student.
Song He stopped, turned to face this meritorious Great Li vassal king—his nominal younger brother, but in fact his elder brother—and said, "I owe you a great deal. But on this matter, I will not make any compensation."
Song Jixin smiled. "Your Majesty, please don't say such things anymore. I'll pretend I didn't hear them today."
Song He sighed. "Great Li having the Imperial Uncle is a great fortune for the nation."
Song Jixin nodded. "Without