Chapter 838: Mutual Nemeses
The eleven Earthly Branch members had returned to the inn. On two small hilltops, Yuan Huajing and Song Xu had each surprisingly not called their own people over for a debriefing.
The boy Gou Cun was happy to have the leisure. Whenever it came to deducing battle formations, scrutinizing details, and postmortem discussions, his brain was never enough to keep up, and he couldn't get a word in anyway—he just followed orders.
This nameless capital immortal inn was somewhat similar to the Snail Temple of the Jiang Clan's Cloud Lair Blessed Land. The landscape was veiled in layers of mist and mirage, overlapping upon each other. What seemed like the distance of one courtyard to the next might actually be a thousand feet apart. The eleven each occupied a secluded compound, each with its own extra marvels. The main buildings all had something like Old Scholar Liu Jia's White Jade Arena from the alley—small in appearance, but truly a realm within a realm. These were various fragmented cave heavens and secret realms selected from the Greater Li Treasury.
Gou Cun took the green bamboo walking stick and strolled around the courtyard, lightly poking the ground.
The female ghost Gai Yan, nominally the innkeeper, was currently visiting Han Zhoujin.
Suilin, a Five Elements qigong master who could reverse a portion of the flow of time, was in the process of refining that priceless ancient divine golden body fragment. Even in the secret treasury jointly built by the Ministry of Punishment and the Ministry of Rites, there was no golden body fragment of such high rank. Refining it was indeed difficult. Setting aside other cultivation to focus solely on this, it still required about a full month. But Suilin didn't find such "hard work" unwelcome.
The young novice Houjue from the capital's Sutra Translation Bureau had actually gone to a nearby temple, found a donation box, and secretly donated money.
The Nascent Soul realm sword cultivator known as "Yelang" was currently sitting cross-legged on a meditation mat in a room with no decorations—it seemed as empty as a poverty-stricken home.
Behind Yuan Huajing knelt a row of attendants, ten in all, male and female. But each was lifeless, lacking in human vitality and spiritual energy.
After returning to the inn, Yuan Huajing had called only Song Xu and his own Kushou, no other cultivators.
After coming over, Kushou felt a bit guilty.
To be honest, he deeply respected that green-robed sword immortal.
Song Xu arrived a little later than Kushou, took off his boots in the corridor, then chose a spot near the door and sat on the floor. He glanced at the ten puppets behind Yuan Huajing.
Even Song Xu, a pure sword cultivator of excellent talent, felt some envy for Yuan Huajing's utterly unreasonable Dao fortune.
Earlier on the Great River battlefield, Yuan Huajing's flying sword had killed two Jade Capital realm demon cultivators from the military camps. Those two were now sitting behind Yuan Huajing.
There was also a demon who had been a mountain peak realm martial artist in life. He had been killed on the battlefield of the Greater Li secondary capital back then. The other ten Earthly Branch members had cooperated fully with Yuan Huajing, and in the end, Yuan Huajing had claimed that head.
This was the innate divine ability of Yuan Huajing's natal flying sword, "Yelang." Anyone killed by this sword would become a puppet of Yuan Huajing, their soul imprisoned as well.
But cultivators or pure martial artists reduced to puppets suffered greatly in combat power, and their intelligence was far inferior to when they were alive. For example, those two Jade Capital realm demon cultivators had fallen to Nascent Soul, while several other Nascent Soul had dropped to Golden Core. There were also multiple puppets now at Dragon Gate or even Sea Observation realm. After weighing pros and cons, Yuan Huajing chose to keep them because each possessed some uncommon divine ability, rather than replacing them with higher-ranked immortal puppets. Otherwise, after the battle that sank half a continent, Yuan Huajing could have had two Far Wandering realm martial artists and eight immortal realm attendants.
In mountain-top duels, a Nascent Soul sword cultivator could face a Jade Capital realm cultivator without fear. But Yuan Huajing, this Nascent Soul, could now securely kill any Jade Capital realm cultivator who wasn't a sword cultivator.
Yuan Huajing was like a sword cultivator born for war. If he were a native sword cultivator of the Sword Qi Great Wall, with the innate ability of his flying sword "Yelang," he would surely shine brilliantly.
That sword's rank would definitely be rated at the top tier in the Summer Palace lineage's assessments.
On his cultivation path, amidst battles, his protectors might well be great sword immortals like Yue Qing and Mi Hu.
Song Xu, watching Yuan Huajing who seemed unfazed, was furious. His expression displeased, he couldn't help calling him by name, "Yuan Huajing, this breaks the rules. The National Teacher once set an iron law for us: only those mortal enemies of the Greater Li court who are irreconcilable to the death can have Kushou use this innate divine ability! Beyond that, even if it's the ruler of a nation, if it's for personal reasons, they have no right to order us Earthly Branch members to kill with this."
This was the true trump card of their Greater Li Earthly Branch cultivator lineage. The hypothetical enemies could be counted on one hand: Wei Jin, the great sword immortal of Wind Snow Temple; Qi Zhen, the celestial lord of Shengao Sect; Liu Laocheng, the immortal realm cultivator and current sect master of Zhenjing Sect; and Wei Bo of Piyun Mountain, the mountain lord of Zhongyue.
Song Xu actually had one more thing he didn't say out loud.
After Kushou used this divine ability, his lifespan would be greatly shortened. It had been assessed before: Kushou could only use it three times in his life, and only once below the Jade Capital realm. Otherwise, Kushou would never be able to break through to the upper five realms.
Yuan Huajing said calmly, "The National Teacher who made the rules for us is no longer here."
Song Xu clenched his fists, resting them on his knees, his gaze cold. He spoke heavily, "Yuan Huajing!"
Yuan Huajing said, "I believe this Chen Ping'an is a potential enemy of Greater Li. And his threat is definitely greater than free spirits like Wei Jin, or people like Qi Zhen and Liu Laocheng."
Song Xu was about to retort, but Yuan Huajing glanced at this Second Prince of the Greater Li Song clan, born of imperial blood, and continued, "Second Highness, I admit Chen Ping'an is a man who strictly follows rules, so much so that he doesn't seem like a mountain person. But Song Xu, don't forget—sometimes, good people doing good deeds can still violate the laws of Greater Li. If we don't have a decisive countermeasure against Chen Ping'an and the Fallen Mountain Sect, it will be a huge hidden danger. We cannot wait until that day comes and then try to fix the problem after the fact, letting him set the rules for the entire Greater Li court, killing whoever he wants. In the end, the problem is that you ten cultivate too slowly, while Chen Ping'an breaks through realms too quickly."
Gai Yan, the female ghost, was a makeup artist from the high mountains. She was only at the Golden Core realm, yet she could already distort the scenery in Chen Ping'an's field of vision. Once she entered the upper five realms, she could even make people "believe what they see."
Additionally, Gai Yan had an even more concealed identity: she was a voluptuous corpse proficient in the art of color refinement, capable of constructing a "Romance Tent."
Lu Hui, a Confucian qigong master by origin, actually had a deeper Dao root: he was a "One-Word Teacher" from the Green Firmament World, rejected by the Jade Capital.
Suilin, the Five Elements master, could reverse the flow of time within a small realm. Cooperating with the young novice Houjue's Buddhist "Zen Meditation" divine ability, plus the formations of Han Zhoujin and others, they could mesh seamlessly, giving the Earthly Branch lineage every advantage of time, place, and people. If it hadn't been for facing that young Hidden Officer who had long walked the river of time, whose mind and body stood firm like a pillar in the current, allowing the slender flow of time to pass by on both sides—and who had earlier directly cut through that stretch of time with his flying sword—any ordinary Jade Capital realm cultivator would have lost without understanding why.
Kushou, moreover, was a legendary "ten-thief candidate" mirror seller. Such gifted cultivators were extremely rare in the Haoran World.
Kushou's most fundamental natal object was a Still Water Mirror. His innate divine ability was profound and mysterious, summed up in one phrase: "Either this or that; the void form is the true state."
Song Xu stared at Yuan Huajing. "Do you truly have no selfish motives?!"
Yuan Huajing shook his head. "I dare not have any."
One misstep, crossing a certain line, and he would definitely be marked by that guy.
Zhengyang Mountain was the lesson from the past.
Regarding the Fallen Mountain Sect's observation of Zhengyang Mountain and the joint sword challenge by Chen Ping'an and Liu Xianyang, the eleven Earthly Branch members each had their own views. Their respect and admiration for that Hidden Officer's methods differed.
Yuan Huajing's view was unlike anyone else's. What he feared most was not Chen Ping'an's sword techniques or fist techniques, not his multiple identities, not even the string of details in Chen Ping'an's dismantling of Zhengyang Mountain—sword and fist techniques, piercing words, alliances and divisions, picking apart, defeating each in turn... What he feared was Chen Ping'an's extraordinary forbearance.
Like a grudge that had become a dead knot. Some resentful person might have a fifty percent chance of winning and would be unable to resist striking out, seeking relief.
Some people, with an eighty percent chance of winning, would definitely try. Most people, if they had a one hundred percent chance of winning and still didn't act, would be fools.
But Chen Ping'an was different. It seemed even if he had a one hundred twenty percent chance of winning, he still moved unhurriedly, laid his plans steadily, each step interlocking, with no mistakes anywhere.
So this time, Yuan Huajing had told no one beforehand except Song Xu and Kushou, keeping it secret. Yu Yu, Suilin, and the others were kept in the dark. Yuan Huajing was afraid that the deep-minded Hidden Officer would detect something and ruin everything.
Song Xu asked a key question, "This... how do we deal with Chen Ping'an?"
Yuan Huajing glanced at Kushou and smiled. "Of course, use him to the fullest. Let him help us repeatedly drill and hone our cultivation until we can confidently surpass Chen Ping'an."
Chen Ping'an's learning was eclectic—he was the perfect whetstone. Sword techniques, fist techniques, talismans, numerous natal objects, plus his scheming, calculations...
If the eleven could defeat Chen Ping'an, it meant they were fully qualified to kill an immortal.
Although all eleven were qigong masters, apart from Song Changjing occasionally teaching them a few boxing techniques, they also had a martial arts instructor specifically for martial arts. His realm wasn't high, just a Far Wandering realm, but he came from the Greater Li border army, so the fist and foot techniques he taught were simply straightforward, ruthless, and decisive.
Yuan Huajing seemed to think of something amusing and said half-jokingly, "A Stopping Realm martial artist who can trade blows with Cao Ci, a martial grandmaster who could withstand countless punches from Yuan Zhenye of Zhengyang Mountain—starting today, we can have him help us with fist practice anytime, tempering our physical bodies. Such an opportunity is indeed rare. Even if we aren't pure martial artists, the benefits are still considerable. If that female martial artist Zhou Haijing eventually becomes our ally, such an unexpected joy—she will surely accept it gladly."
Song Xu pressed on, "And then?!"
Yuan Huajing said, "And then? What other 'and then' is there? Isn't it simple? In the end, let me be the one to behead the Hidden Officer with my sword."
Song Xu shook his head. "We absolutely cannot do this! Kushou's realm is still low. In the path of mirror forging, there's no experience to draw from. This is Kushou's first time risking this. It's hard to guarantee that there won't be unforeseen accidents that not even Kushou himself can predict. Since the National Teacher specifically set a rule for us back then, forbidding us from using it casually, he must have known early on how dangerous this is."
Kushou said tentatively, "To maintain this mirror image 'true state,' it actually consumes a lot of immortal money every day. How about if we really can defeat that... Hidden Officer one day, we let him disintegrate within my mirror image small world?"
Song Xu nodded. "That's feasible. Let's not create any extra complications."
Yuan Huajing shook his head with a smile. "I'm not stupid. Of course, I will cut off all of Chen Ping'an's thoughts and memories, leaving not a trace. Then what remains by my side will only be an empty shell of a Nascent Soul sword cultivator and a mountain peak realm martial artist. And I can promise you, unless absolutely necessary, I will never let 'this person' appear. Only if we Earthly Branch members are in a desperate situation will I have him act, as a divine move to turn the tide."
In an instant.
Kushou, in the depths of his consciousness, actually heard a warm, mellow voice that he would never have imagined coming from his own heart lake, from within his natal object, the Still Water Mirror. This shocked Kushou so much that his face turned pale.
He heard someone speak with a smiling tone, "Turn the tide? I'll satisfy you."
Kushou immediately retracted his spiritual consciousness, stabilized his Dao heart, transformed into a speck of mind-stardust, and went to examine that ancient natal mirror.
But unexpectedly, Kushou's soul became unstable. He spat blood, raised his hand to cover his chest, trying desperately to block something. Yet the Still Water Mirror nonetheless "split open" Kushou's chest on its own and fell to the ground, its reverse side facing up. A ring of ancient seal-script inscriptions circled like a palindrome poem: "The human heart is a square inch; the Heavenly heart is a square zhang." "What I see: mountains turn, water stops." "By human viewing the mirror: emptiness and reality, existence and non-existence."
Kushou raised a hand to press down on the ancient mirror that seemed to have rebelled.
The mirror flipped over, its surface facing up, emitting a blinding light like the sun leaping out of the sea. Kushou was sent flying backward with a bang, collapsing against the wall in defeat.
In the mirror was a young man in a snow-white robe, a sword on his back. His face was indistinct, but he could be seen wearing a jet-black Daoist hairpin, holding a string of white Buddhist beads, barefoot without shoes. He smiled slightly, gently exhaled a breath, then raised his hand and lightly wiped the mirror surface.
In an instant, the room was filled with sword qi.
The white-robed, sword-bearing young man stepped out. His form in the mirror, originally the size of a mustard seed, suddenly became normal human size. His figure was slender, his eyes a pure gold. The hand holding the Buddhist beads hung behind his back, his left hand spread open, placed horizontally in front of him, with five thunders gathering in his palm. Standing inside the room, his expression calm, he smiled and said, "Fortune and misfortune have no door; they are summoned by man themselves. The retribution of good and evil follows like a shadow."
He lightly stamped his foot, and the entire inn was enclosed within the small world of his natal flying sword, Caged Sparrow.
"A superior man hears the Dao and diligently practices it. Knocking at the heart's gate is like entering the mountains to visit an immortal. Suddenly encountering a recluse is like meeting one's Dao heart."
This "Chen Ping'an" turned his head to look at Kushou, who was slumped against the wall. He smiled. The ancient mirror on the ground, drawn by a wisp of true qi, shot like a flying sword directly into the young cultivator's heart. "I'm giving it back to you. Remember to keep it safe in the future—if there is a future."
Kushou not only had his heart's aperture shattered by his own natal object, but his neck seemed to be grabbed and twisted into an exaggerated angle, his limbs contorted and snapped into fragments inch by inch. A Golden Core from a cultivator was forcibly extracted from the human body's small world and simply suspended in front of Kushou's eyes.
And in this Chen Ping'an's field of vision, the two flying swords of Yuan Huajing and Song Xu, after being released, seemed to fly slowly through the air—so slow that even he, a patient "person," felt it was too slow.
He "walked slowly," sidestepped, "passed by" Song Xu's golden-glowing natal flying sword, then came before Yuan Huajing's flying sword "Yelang," letting the sword inch by inch "crawl" toward him.
He squinted at the flying sword, snapped his fingers, and all the buildings disappeared. It was as if all things in heaven and earth, all colors, were swept away. The irrelevant, plain-drawn scrolls were removed, leaving only the eleven painted figures of the heart-image scroll.
The remaining eight Earthly Branch cultivators outside this room simultaneously arrived in this realm. Each maintained their previous posture: the boy Gou Cun, after finishing his stroll, had returned to his room and placed the green bamboo stick horizontally across his knees, gazing at the inscription "Reach Far." The female ghost Gai Yan was smiling and chatting with Han Zhoujin, who looked a bit distracted. The young novice Houjue had just returned to the inn, walking along the road, one foot raised. Yu Yu was bent over, as if checking something. Suilin was still sitting cross-legged, refining the divine golden body fragment. Daoist Ge Ling was holding a book, in the midst of turning a page...
He bent his index finger, lightly flicked his thumb, and a Go piece materialized, tossed high into the air. It fell slowly, and upon the sound of it hitting water, a Go board appeared in the world.
Then, as Yuan Huajing's flying sword "Yelang" slowly approached him, he pinched it with two fingers, turned the sword tip around, walked over to Yuan Huajing, and with a gentle tug, drove the sword into the latter's brow. The flying sword's tip passed straight through Yuan Huajing's head. He slanted his eyes at Yuan Huajing, smiled, shook his head, and commented, "After all, not a pure martial artist. Your body is like paper."
The eight "guests" who had snapped back to reality had already seen Kushou's dying state. Yu Yu immediately summoned her young sword immortal attendant, bent her knees slightly, and charged forward. On the board beneath her feet, sword light shot up into the sky like cages blocking her path. Fortunately, her sword immortal attendant kept swinging his sword, hacking through those sword-light lines. Yu Yu's mind was single-focused. She was a military strategist cultivator—she had to delay this Chen Ping'an, who had inexplicably come to bother them again, for at least a moment, to give them a chance to counterattack.
He smiled at the little military strategist girl. Not afraid of death—but could that keep you from dying? Come find me—but can you find me?
His peripheral vision caught the young sword immortal who had preserved a "spark of true spirit" and a sword immortal's shell. He looked at him, and with his will...
He split him in two from the middle, cutting him in half.
She seemed to be walking in circles, trapped by a ghost wall.
Yu Yu, who had originally been less than ten zhang away from that person, suddenly found herself thousands of zhang away. No matter how she charged forward, or even reversed direction, or arched in flight... she simply could not close the distance to within ten zhang.
Heaven and earth were turned upside down. On Yu Yu's path, everywhere was twisted into impossible situations by that person.
Daoist Ge Ling cast a Mountain-Moving Technique, hurling great peaks from all directions at that snow-white figure. But every mountain and giant ridge, midway through the air, was sliced by slender sword lights, crashing to the ground and scattering on the Go board into nothingness.
He suddenly appeared beside Yu Yu, pressing a hand over her face.
Yu Yu's body crashed to the ground with a boom, but her soul was yanked out by this person.
He shook his head. "Long trapped in a cage, now returning to nature. That's about me, not you lot."
Looking at Yu Yu's soul held in his hand, his pure golden eyes flickered slightly. "Heaven and earth, an empty room. You are just the insignificant dust on the doorstep."
As he spoke, with a thought, he silently uttered two words: "Flowers bloom."
The Confucian qigong master Lu Hui was pierced by dozens of long swords, his entire body immobilized, as if a clump of blood flowers had suddenly bloomed where he stood.
The ghost Gai Yan's entire ethereal form was sliced into countless pieces by crisscrossing sword lights—her dress, her Dharma robe, her Golden Crow Armor, all cut apart on the spot.
That person smiled. "This self-created sword technique, I've just named 'Sliver of Moon.'"
The boy Gou Cun had his hands and feet severed.
Daoist Ge Ling was wrapped within a single grid of the board by hundreds of talismans.
That person appeared and disappeared like a ghost, coming behind Suilin. "Sword-Locking Talismans? Not very meaningful. Don't forget, I'm also a pure martial artist."
After a punch, he pierced through the back and heart of this Five Elements qigong master.
Song Xu's natal flying sword, with that person's two fingers pressing against its tip and hilt, was compressed and snapped in two.
He lightly shook his wrist, condensed a long spear from sword qi, pierced the "One-Word Teacher" Lu Hui through the neck, then released a burst of martial artist's true qi and lifted the latter high on the spear tip.
He seemed to mutter to himself, "How about that?"
The next moment, a green-robed figure appeared beside this snow-white-robed "Chen Ping'an," standing back to back, as if the two would pass each other by in the next second.
He didn't turn his head, only smiled. "Having an extra Night Wanderer sword is an advantage. Luckily, I have an extra Caged Sparrow. That makes it even."
Two Caged Sparrows—he had released his first, gaining the initiative. The other self's Caged Sparrow could only be outside. In effect, it was as good as gone.
Chen Ping'an said, "You can stop now."
He lifted his head slightly, looking at the pitiful cultivator suspended in the air on his spear. "We haven't seen each other in a long time."
Chen Ping'an said, "I don't think so."
This "Chen Ping'an" beside him, in a sense, was like a heart demon that should have appeared at the Nascent Soul bottleneck. He came belatedly, but was more like an outer-sky demon that had abandoned all humanity.
He had to admit, this one was more like a true, unconstrained sword cultivator of heaven and earth than Chen Ping'an.
Within the small world of the Caged Sparrow, sword qi was densely packed. Mountains and rivers spanned ten thousand li, with no painted scenes. Heaven and earth were like snow accumulated for ten thousand years.
He looked at Yuan Huajing, smiling. "Isn't it amusing? Like a person who thinks he's done nothing wrong and isn't afraid of ghosts knocking at his door—but then a knock comes immediately. Then he swears, 'If I've wronged my conscience, may heaven strike me down with lightning.' And coincidentally, thunder roars. Isn't this another kind of sincerity that reaches the spirits? Three feet above the head, there are gods?"
Above Yuan Huajing's head, a majestic thunderbolt of heavenly might fell, only to be met by another thunderbolt rising from below, colliding and scattering in an explosion.
He sighed. "That's really annoying."
For example, he had some hidden schemes—usurping Yuan Huajing's soul, temporarily taking over, gaining control of those ten puppets. Such hidden methods could be many.
But Chen Ping'an could guess and know them all.
"Me and me, each other's nemesis."
Still, this version of himself had come too fast. Otherwise, he could have slowly refined these eleven Greater Li cultivators, in effect completing the twelve Earthly Branches by himself!
During that time, he could have dissected, learned, and mastered the various divine abilities and techniques of the eleven Earthly Branch members, eventually turning them all to his own use.
But it didn't matter. In this world, there was no such thing as having all the advantages. Too much is as bad as too little.
He laughed and asked, "Our Master likes to put his palms together when meeting monks, and in Daoist temples, he performs Daoist greetings. Do you think this behavior of the Master influenced Young Master Qi's state of mind back when he was young?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "It did."
He asked again, "Then why didn't you tell Pei Qian clearly? She received that gift from the woman sword immortal Zhou Cheng's lineage back then. And later, when Zhou Cheng died on the battlefield, she had no regrets. That's a good thing, isn't it? Why can't you say it? Perhaps Pei Qian would have broken through to Nascent Soul sword cultivator much faster, and more steadily."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "I just realized that when I chat with people, I really can be annoying."
He put away the long spear in his hand. Lu Hui, suspended in the air, fell to the ground, barely alive, lying in a pool of blood.
Song Xu looked at Houjue, the only one who seemed relatively unharmed, and felt despair.
If the other Chen Ping'an had chosen to kill this young novice of the Translation Bureau first, it would have meant there was still room for maneuver.
Because afterward, if Suilin reversed a short stretch of time, without Houjue's Buddhist divine ability to protect them, everyone would lose their memory.
But the current situation meant either all eleven would die, or at the very least, this young novice would die.
Yu Yu looked at her miserably wounded friends and colleagues, her face full of tears. She shouted angrily, "Yuan Huajing, Song Xu! What the hell is going on?!"
The snow-white Chen Ping'an clicked his tongue. "Heart-wrenching suffering in the human world—the more empathetic bystanders are, the harder their lives become."
Chen Ping'an said, "Since I've already come, where can you run to?"
He took a few steps back, put his hands in his sleeves, turned to face Chen Ping'an, and was silent for a moment. Then he sneered, "Pitiful."
Chen Ping'an said nothing.
For the first time, he spoke with his heart voice: "Chen Ping'an, have you ever thought that the one she has been waiting for all along is me, not you?"
Chen Ping'an turned his head and looked at this version of himself. It couldn't be entirely regarded as a heart demon or such. It wasn't like a heart demon—it was himself, just incomplete.
He put his hands in his sleeves, looked up at the sky, squinted, and murmured, "I am more suitable than you. The more time passes, the more suitable."
He slowly extended a hand. Beside the two of them, a speck of lantern light appeared, like a star suspended outside the heavens. Then in an instant, a brilliant sword light flashed by. The lantern light was drawn by the sword qi, following the sword light away.
He smiled at Chen Ping'an and said with his heart voice, "You know very well. This is why Master Qi told her not to act lightly. He didn't teach you any advanced sword techniques, nor could he protect you too much. He only gave you three strands of sword qi. Have they really been that useful on our cultivation path? A little, but in hindsight, they didn't affect the overall trend of any major development. At Chess Dungeon Mountain, whether you killed that monster or not, A Liang was still watching by your side. At the well mouth, whether you killed Cui Dongshan at the bottom of the well, in the long run, it didn't matter."
He shook his head, muttering to himself, "She actually kept her promise. Surprising."
Chen Ping'an said, "Don't forget, you're not human."
He put on a smiling face and complained, "How can you curse your own self like that?"
Actually, he could have thrown out harsh words. For example: I know all of you, but you, Chen Ping'an, cannot understand the current me. Be careful—if you push me too far, neither of us will be sword cultivators anymore. The Stopping Realm martial artist might drop one or two realms. The Five Elements natal objects—I'll shatter at least half of them first.
But it was meaningless.
Wouldn't he still be hacked to death by this guy, regardless of cost, regardless of consequences? The most hateful thing was that this guy's greatest reliance wasn't that Old Scholar and Ning Yao were nearby. It was that "his own self" would sincerely believe that even if the Great Dao were broken off temporarily, even if he had his Longevity Bridge shattered as a youth, he could still start all over again.
Chen Ping'an sneered. "That is my greatest reliance. Do you think so little of yourself?"
He let out a mournful sigh, laughed brilliantly, raised one hand, and said, "Then say goodbye? See you later?"
A pity that all this idle chat, plus the earlier deliberate arrangement of this scene, had failed to make his own hastily arrived self incorporate a single shred of divinity. So there was no opening to exploit.
Otherwise, which Chen Ping'an would truly walk out of here would be up for debate. At that time, it would just be a matter of finding the right moment, opening the heavens with a sword, quietly traveling beyond the sky, and reuniting with her at the ancient sword-forging site.
Chen Ping'an just squinted and nodded.
He looked around, pouted, and said, "Lost because I came too early. Had my hands tied. Otherwise, dealing with you would be more than enough."
He looked at the female ghost, smiling. "Still dare to get handsy with me after this?"
Gai Yan only glanced at those golden eyes and nearly had her Dao heart collapse on the spot. She dared not speak a single word.
The presence beside Chen Ping'an seemed to have no emotion, no matter what he said or did, whether or not there was a smile. All his expressions, moods, and actions were things that had been extracted, dead things, like corpses casually pulled from an ancient tomb.
He withdrew his gaze. His whole body began to shatter and dissipate like flawless glass, yet in this small world, it neither increased nor decreased by a hair. His eyes were deep, his golden light swirling like rotating stars. He looked at Chen Ping'an and spoke his final words: "Great freedom is to make oneself unfree. I wonder how I came up with that."
With that, the small world formed by one Caged Sparrow dissipated along with the white-robed Chen Ping'an.
Chen Ping'an's expression was blank. He didn't bother to put away his own Caged Sparrow or Moon in the Well immediately. Instead, he used Caged Sparrow to shrink the realm's range until it just encompassed the spot where the white robe had dissipated. Then he reminded Suilin, "You can reverse this short stretch of time now. My flying sword will protect you, clear the way all the way, and send everyone back to the alley earlier."
Generally speaking, that "self" could take advantage of the opportunity to split off a strand or even a speck of consciousness and hide somewhere in the river of time—for example, in some corner of Kushou's ancient mirror small world, in the mind or soul of some cultivator, or even on some Dharma robe or precious armor, or somewhere in the inn. In short, there were endless possibilities. But that "self" dared not, because Chen Ping'an would ask his Master, after returning to the Confucian Temple, to have the Ritual Sage personally inspect this matter. The consequences if he were found out were unimaginable.
He could think of it, and that guy would certainly think of it too. It might seem superfluous, but in truth it wasn't. Regardless of whether that guy had left any backup, Chen Ping'an would still do this, and would trouble the Ritual Sage to personally examine the river of time. After all, deceiving oneself is actually very difficult, but self-deception is easy.
Suilin asked in a trembling voice, "Mr. Chen, what do we do with this memory?"
Chen Ping'an sneered. "You've all eaten too much and have nothing better to do, right? Keep it as a meal to remember. Next time, be smarter!"
Suilin, working with the young novice Houjue, reversed the river of time. In an instant, everyone returned to their respective places.
Only Chen Ping'an remained standing in Yuan Huajing's room.
The young novice immediately put his palms together and silently recited three times, "Buddha protect me. I'll donate some more merit money later—said and done. If I have no money, I'll borrow."
In the alley, Han Zhoujin, Ge Ling, and Suilin suddenly appeared. After completing this act, Suilin collapsed to the ground and was helped up by Ge Ling.
They all immediately returned to the inn.
A green-robed figure stood with his hands in his sleeves in the corridor outside that room.
Everyone stood in the courtyard below the steps, except for Suilin, who was still unconscious, supported by others.
Yuan Huajing had the demeanor of a dead pig not afraid of scalding water, but the sweat on his forehead betrayed the extremely unstable Dao heart of this Nascent Soul sword cultivator.
Song Xu had had his flying sword crushed by that Chen Ping'an earlier. Although time had reversed and the flying sword was unharmed, his sword cultivator's heart had been heavily wounded. He was now listless.
Kushou, now whenever he saw Chen Ping'an—no matter which one—couldn't help but have his heart and liver tremble.
The boy Gou Cun's gaze toward Chen Ping'an had changed from awe to fear.
The female ghost Gai Yan directly averted her eyes, refusing to look at that Hidden Officer.
Yu Yu crossed her arms, not an ordinary girl's daring Dao heart. She seemed a little smug—see? We got wiped out in one go, like cutting vegetables.
Chen Ping'an barely resisted the urge to reward each of them with a punch right there. He took a deep breath and said, "Wake up Suilin."
Ge Ling and Lu Hui, on either side of Suilin, immediately did so.
Suilin woke up groggily and was about to clasp his hands in thanks to the Hidden Officer, but Chen Ping'an had already extended his hand. Suilin, his face pale and colorless, was completely confused. He asked cautiously, "Mr. Chen?"
Chen Ping'an said, "Since you fine gentlemen don't need to go to the Wasteland World, what use do you have for those Sword-Locking Talismans? Hand them all over."
Suilin quickly pulled a stack of golden talisman papers from his sleeve and gently pushed them, floating toward the young Hidden Officer.
Chen Ping'an took the talismans and looked at the group.
Everyone was dead silent.
It was Lu Hui, the scholar, who best understood scholars. He smiled and said, "Borrow. They are borrowed by Mr. Chen."
Chen Ping'an put them into his sleeve and vanished in a flash.
Everyone sighed in relief. Several of them directly sat down on the ground.
Song Xu was about to speak, but Yuan Huajing showed a weary expression and spoke first, "This matter should be recorded in the Ministry of Rites archives. Count it all as my fault. It has nothing to do with Kushou."
Chen Ping'an appeared at the entrance of the alley, glanced at the book collection building, and sighed. "Brother, if you keep this up, you're really starting to get annoying."
He walked all the way to the inn's entrance, but the more he thought about it, the more annoyed he became. He immediately turned around, went back to the alley, shrank the earth and mountains, and returned directly to the immortal inn. Except for Gou Cun and the young novice, the remaining nine were all knocked flat on the ground by Chen Ping'an.