Chapter 840: Hometown
Listening to Chen Ping'an's excuses, even to the point of not hesitating to slander his own teacher, Ning Yao remained silent. Chen Ping'an switched to a different bench and sat beside Ning Yao. She looked even angrier, unwilling to lean against him, so she shifted her position. Chen Ping'an didn't push his luck; he stayed where he was and silently drank his wine.
Romantic love between a man and a woman—what is frivolity? It's when someone clearly has only one jug of sincere wine, yet insists on drinking with everyone they meet. What is deep affection? It's burying that jug of wine deep in the heart, then one day drinking it all alone until it's finished. How could one not get drunk?
But Chen Ping'an, holding the wine jug in one hand, quietly placed his other hand on the bench between them, creeping sideways like a crab, secretly moving closer to Ning Yao.
Just as he was about to succeed, Ning Yao suddenly punched him, hitting the back of his hand. She was really strong; it hurt so much that Chen Ping'an took a deep breath, exhaling sharply. When Ning Yao withdrew her fist, Chen Ping'an quickly raised his hand and rubbed it against his chin.
After a moment of silence, Ning Yao asked, "It seems your impression of Song Jixin has changed?"
Earlier in the courtyard, Chen Ping'an had talked about this neighbor from his youth. Though his words were harsh, his overall evaluation was actually decent.
Chen Ping'an nodded. "Let's not talk about the big things; Song Jixin didn't do much of those. I'll just mention one small matter."
Song Jixin of Clay Bottle Alley, who had become the Prince Song Mu of Great Li, had successively taken charge of Old Dragon City, the Southern Sacred Mountain peak, and the Grand Canal Secondary Capital. In all three battles, Song Jixin remained on the front lines, responsible for coordination. Although specific troop deployments were handled by military generals like Great Li's Inspectors Su Gaoshan and Cao Ping, who were well-versed in warfare, in fact, many critical issues—or those that seemed equally viable but would actually influence the subsequent direction of the battle—required Song Mu himself to make the decision.
If he were merely a Great Li prince with an empty title, just a figurehead placed there to stabilize morale even at the cost of his life, he would never have earned the respect of the Great Li border army and the mountain cultivators of Bottle Gourd Continent.
"Within the territories under the Great Li Secondary Capital, including many vassal states, in all prefectures, counties, and districts, anyone who lent money at high interest to students of any academy or school—Song Jixin ordered that the governments of those countries and local authorities arrest those lenders and cut off one of their hands. If they dared to flee, crossing borders to hide elsewhere, the punishment was increased: both hands would be gone. Actually, it's not really a small matter, but compared to other major affairs of the princely mansion and the secondary capital, it seems less conspicuous."
Ning Yao said, "Indeed, it doesn't seem like something Song Jixin would do."
In her impression, Song Jixin was a carefree young master, accompanied by a maidservant whose name, appearance, and character were all not great. One was delicate, the other pretentious—together, they were a perfect match.
Chen Ping'an smiled and explained, "Maybe it's because Song Jixin believes that when scholars have no money, they should be without money. Before leaving the school, if they have no money, they should study even harder, diligently reading by the cold window every day, honestly striving for a place. But young scholars or youthful Confucians inevitably lack willpower, so Song Jixin went to settle accounts with those who dared to make money this way."
"When Song Jixin was a child, what he hated most was precisely his carefree life, having too much money in his pocket. This isn't actually him being pretentious—after all, having neighbors point fingers behind your back and call you an illegitimate child every day, no one would feel good hearing that."
"Song Jixin is such a delicate person, yet he stayed in Clay Bottle Alley, a place full of chicken manure and dog shit, and never moved away. Maybe it's because he felt we were similar: I had lost my parents, and he had parents who might as well not exist. So living in Clay Bottle Alley made Song Jixin not feel too aggrieved."
Chen Ping'an finished his wine, placed the empty jug on the bench, and poured some saltwater-soaked soybeans into one palm from his sleeve. He offered them to Ning Yao, who took half.
After learning boxing, especially after becoming a Pure Martial Artist in the Golden Body Realm, Chen Ping'an's calluses on his hands and feet had all disappeared.
Chen Ping'an picked up a soybean, tossed it into his mouth, and lightly tapped his shoes together.
The cloth shoes on his feet were hand-sewn by the old cook, whose craftsmanship was impeccable, even more exquisite than a woman's needlework. On Fallen Mountain, anyone willing to wear cloth shoes had a pair. As for how many pairs Jiang Shangzhen had, it was hard to say, and how much immortal money he had spent, that was even harder to say.
Actually, the little warm tree had also sewn two pairs of cloth shoes, but Chen Ping'an couldn't bear to wear them, so he kept them in his fold-space item.
Chen Ping'an was sure that now that he had brought Ning Yao back to Fallen Mountain, Ning Yao would have some too. Little Warm Tree, the busiest little steward, could think of everything.
Eating the saltwater soybeans, Chen Ping'an squinted with gentle eyes, as if seeing a little girl in a pink skirt, leaving her own residence early in the morning. When she walked alone in an empty place, she would lightly swing her sleeves with brisk steps. As she approached a house door, she would slow down, take out a bunch of keys, skillfully select one, unlock the door, and then pick up a broom, rag, water ladle, bucket... all in order. She would be busy: sweeping the courtyard, wiping tables and benches, airing bedding...
What? Your Great Li Iron Cavalry dares to surround my Fallen Mountain?
Chen Ping'an turned his head and glanced toward the palace.
Maybe those eleven Earth Branch cultivators still hadn't realized one thing: he was superior to that white-clothed Chen Ping'an. After all, the latter was only a part of him.
This meant that at certain moments, Chen Ping'an possessed all the methods of that pure divine nature. And in the battle within the Cage Sparrow, that other self hadn't even exerted his full strength.
Ning Yao sensed the change in Chen Ping'an's mood and turned to ask, "What's wrong?"
Chen Ping'an withdrew his gaze and smiled. "Nothing. Just getting angrier the more I think about it. Later, I'll find some wood and make a food box to hold midnight snacks."
Ning Yao didn't bother asking what the anger had to do with carpentry and midnight snacks. She just asked, "Within half a month, will Nan Zan really voluntarily hand over the porcelain shard?"
"If we set aside the life-soul lamp I found later, maybe not."
"Then in the residence, were you just randomly frightening her?"
"Not entirely just frightening. Mainly to make her restless, so suspicion breeds dark thoughts, and she sees ghosts everywhere."
Chen Ping'an sneered coldly and continued slowly, "This Empress Dowager is actually an extremely pragmatic person. The reason she would rather die than hand over that piece of broken porcelain isn't just that she initially harbored a fluke hope of maximizing benefits. Her original plan was for the best-case scenario: that I would agree to the deal on the spot in the residence. That way, first, she wouldn't have to return the porcelain piece, and she could also rope in an Upper Five Realm swordsman and an Ultimate Realm martial artist for the Great Li court, without the title of retainer but with the substance of one."
"Besides the imitation Jade Capital outside the Secondary Capital, there are Earth Branch cultivators in the shadows slowly accumulating cultivation. With me and Fallen Mountain in the open, it would naturally be very beneficial for the Great Li Song clan. Even though she was the one who made the mistake first with her sinister scheming, she wanted me to overlook past grievances and turn enemies into friends. Second, it would earn the Great Li Song clan a reputation for treating meritorious people well across the other eight continents of Haoran World."
"Third, as the sect master of Fallen Mountain, my accumulated merit with Northern Jambu Continent, and the establishment of a subordinate sect on Tongye Continent, would allow Great Li to share in the benefits. Of course, the Great Li court is pragmatic—mutual benefit. Fourth, I am still the last Hidden Officer of Sword Qi Great Wall. In the future, swordsmen from outside like Liu Jinglong, Xie Songhua, and Yu Yue will frequently come, creating connections with Bottle Gourd Continent and Great Li. This invisible sword energy fortune would be quite beneficial to the Great Li dynasty."
"Finally, as the closed-door disciple of my teacher, I can help the Great Li Song clan build a bridge with the Confucian Temple, allowing them to completely break away from the Yunlin Jiang clan."
"Heavenly treasures—who gets them? Take the eleven Earth Branch cultivators, for example. The two ministries of Great Li have spent no small amount of money. The cost of a single fight is calculated in Guyu coins."
Chen Ping'an tossed the last of the saltwater soybeans into his mouth and said indistinctly, "These are all the reasons why she was so easy to talk to at first. As a national empress dowager, being so considerate of the bigger picture—it's no exaggeration to say she was groveling. Don't look at how much external debt Great Li owes now; their family foundation is actually very wealthy. If my senior brother hadn't prepared for the second war and anticipated that the border troops would need to rush to the Barren Wasteland, he could have easily helped the Great Li court pay off the debt."
Ning Yao said, "She gets both reputation and benefits. Nan Zan has a good hand."
Chen Ping'an clapped his hands. "Calling her someone with long hair and short sight would be unfair to our Great Li empress dowager."
Ning Yao frowned. "There must be an even bigger reason supporting her stubborn resistance. Is it the Central Lands Lu clan?"
Chen Ping'an grunted in affirmation. "Everyone has things they care about. Nan Zan is no exception. For example, what surname will Great Li have in the future? Will it still be Song? Will it be her son as emperor? Can Great Li still retain half of Bottle Gourd Continent's territory? Can she maintain her status as the noble empress dowager? Can she re-enter politics, perhaps control the Earth Branch cultivators now that my senior brother is gone? And then there's her own Great Dao and life, or her role as a chess piece of the Central Lands Lu clan placed in Bottle Gourd Continent. Whether there are things more important than her life, and so on. Each has its own weight and depth. Anyway, the more a cultivator is not in control of their own fate, the more things can outweigh even life and death. After all, many mountain methods make even wishing for death difficult."
In contrast, the old vice minister of the Lion Garden in the Blue Luan Nation valued his reputation more than his life. Of course, not that hypocritical sort of empty reputation.
And Great Li's Inspector Su Gaoshan valued his ambition—his identity as a military general from a humble background—more than life.
Ning Yao asked, "The Earth Branch is only missing a pure martial artist. Has Great Li never thought of Pei Qian?"
Chen Ping'an said, "They must have considered it, but first, my senior brother seemed not to intend it, and second, Pei Qian wouldn't agree."
Ning Yao asked again, "And now? Have you thought of letting Pei Qian fill the Earth Branch? Since she's not going to the Barren Wasteland World, having an official identity, whether for wandering the jianghu or cultivating, would be very stable."
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "I won't agree."
Ning Yao shook her head. "Is it you who won't agree, or do you think Pei Qian won't agree? Don't forget, Pei Qian fought and killed enemies on both Golden Armor Continent and Bottle Gourd Continent without any hesitation. Why don't you even ask Pei Qian what she thinks?"
Chen Ping'an was stunned. He really hadn't considered that.
Ning Yao said, "If Pei Qian herself is willing, would you still stop her?"
Chen Ping'an hesitated, then said, "Maybe I wouldn't stop her."
He then added softly with a smile, "It can't be helped. Even now, if I don't see Pei Qian standing right in front of me, she's still that little black charcoal with two bun hairdos."
A dark little girl, thin and frail, with two skinny little arms that swayed like willow branches when she ran.
Noisy, timid, full of schemes, her little brain spinning faster than anyone else, and more of a bully at home than Li Huai. She could easily lead anyone unfamiliar with her background ten thousand miles astray.
Later, he heard from Yu Juanfu and Lin Junbi that after the war on Golden Armor Continent ended, the surviving native cultivators of that continent greatly admired the female martial artist "Zheng Qian." In short, if the master and disciple went to Golden Armor Continent, they would only recognize Zheng Qian, not the Hidden Officer.
Back on Bottle Gourd Continent, Pei Qian had also earned nicknames like "Zheng Qingming" and "Zheng Saqian."
They said that asking her for a boxing match was three faces and done.
There was even a saying that made Chen Ping'an laugh and cry: on the mountains and in the jianghu, they said this Zheng Qian was the most virtuous and most old-school grandmaster on our Bottle Gourd Continent.
They said she was the most morally upright grandmaster on our Bottle Gourd Continent. Ruthless against demons—Zheng Saqian's reputation was well-earned. There were never mistaken names, only mistaken nicknames. But when it came to boxing with her own people, she was always polite, full of etiquette, stopping at the point of contact. No matter who came to her door for a sparring match, she gave them face. What kind of master must such a female grandmaster have? Surely their virtue must be as high as the clouds...
Then Pei Qian had shown up to observe the ceremony at Zhengyang Mountain, and the green-robed swordsman of Fallen Mountain fought that fight with Yuan Zhenye of Zhengyang Mountain...
After that, there was a rumor spreading among the peaks of Bottle Gourd Continent, about that green-white dispute in the Grove of Merit.
Some people couldn't help but wonder: they had only heard of the principle that an unrighteous upper beam makes a crooked lower beam; how could an unrighteous upper beam produce a straight lower beam?
But truly, honestly, that little charcoal girl was indeed raised by Chen Ping'an.
It was as if with a single leap, she had grown up.
She had already walked such a long jianghu road on her own.
Actually, everyone on Fallen Mountain knew that although Chen Ping'an was fiercest with Pei Qian, the strictest in discipline, seemingly with the worst temper, the tenderness in the young mountain master's eyes when he looked at Pei Qian was no less than for Little Warm Tree and Little Mi Li.
Ning Yao teased, "When Pei Qian gets married someday, it'll worry you to death."
Chen Ping'an snorted coldly. "Among her peers, there are few worthy of Pei Qian."
He crossed his arms. "If anyone dares to have crooked thoughts, showing off those clever romantic tricks, I'll beat the shit out of them."
Ning Yao laughed. "Come on, it won't even come to that. It's hard enough for them to fool Pei Qian."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "That's true."
He quickly added, "But I'll still keep an eye on it."
Then he kept adding, "Not just me. I'll secretly also rope in Zhu Lian, Cui Dongshan, Jiang Shangzhen, Mi Yu, and a few others to help me keep an eye on it. The old cook is a man of experience, well-versed in these matters. Cui Dongshan is thorough in his thinking. As for Chief Zhou and Vice Chief Mi, lechers have the best eye for other lechers."
"No, I'll also bring in Scholar Zhong to test that person's learning, see if he has any real talent. Of course, if that guy's character is bad, forget everything else."
Chen Ping'an intertwined his fingers, raised his arms, and stretched them outward, saying softly, "When Pei Qian first went to Sword Qi Great Wall, Cui Dongshan told me in private that when Pei Qian was little, when she went to the temple to kowtow to the Bodhisattva, she would always sincerely add at the end, 'Bodhisattva, if you're very busy, you don't have to listen today. It's okay if it's not effective. We'll try next time, and the next time after that. I'll come often, so it doesn't matter.'"
Pei Qian made him swear not to tell anyone.
Actually, she just didn't want me, her master, to know, right?
Ning Yao turned her head and looked at his profile.
Chen Ping'an turned around, grinning. "Am I not exceptionally handsome?"
Ning Yao nodded.
Otherwise?
Otherwise, would I, Ning Yao, have married an ugly freak?
Otherwise, how could those twittering girls on the mountains have just seen a mirror flower, water moon and then fallen into a daze over you?
Chen Ping'an was caught off guard and, for once, his old face reddened.
Ning Yao remembered something. Back when she traveled to the Pear Blossom Cave Heaven, she had been to the back courtyard of the Yang Family Apothecary, and had gone with Chen Ping'an. At that time, Old Man Yang had asked Ning Yao two questions.
On the city wall of Sword Qi Great Wall, a few words were carved.
Who was truly speaking from the heart?
Ning Yao said, "Back then, Old Man Yang's question about the heart's voice—I didn't think much of it at first. But later, in the Five Colors World, when I broke through the Jade Capital bottleneck and entered the 'Truth-Seeking' Immortal realm, it was very helpful."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "No matter what, when I get home, I'll first go to the apothecary's backyard."
After saying that, Chen Ping'an looked down at the cloth shoes on his feet.
Ning Yao knew why. Chen Ping'an was reminding himself who he was.
Earlier, at that immortal inn, when Chen Ping'an was sitting on the steps, he had done the same thing.
Perhaps that Clay Bottle Alley youth apprentice had gradually changed his clothes, boots, identity, age...
But the one thing that had never faded was the straw sandals in his heart.
Chen Ping'an planned to later specially ask Zhao Duanming about which small, authentic eateries in the capital were particularly good, so he could take Ning Yao wandering through the streets and alleys.
He recalled some memories.
"If I shave this beard, even you two weirdos combined wouldn't be as handsome as me."
"You fool, is the hotpot too spicy? Isn't there wine beside you? It can neutralize the spice. What kind of look is that? Would I deceive you... Haha, truly a blockhead, you actually believed me."
"Drink slower. The wine won't run away from the bowl."
Chen Ping'an tucked his hands into his sleeves, leaned forward slightly, and gently shook his shoulders, looking at the street that was quiet but not desolate.
If he set aside home-cooked meals, Chen Ping'an suddenly realized that in his life, the sumptuous banquets with rich meats and fish could be counted on one hand. The first was when he traveled far with Little Baoping and the others to study. At the old vice minister's house in the Yellow Court Nation, he had a meal of wild mountain offerings that still gave him a small knot in his heart. Then there was the Southern Garden Nation's capital in Lotus Flower Blessed Land, where he had a banquet with the emperor's family. Finally, in the Pond Water City at Book-Bamboo Lake, Chen Ping'an had spent money to host a banquet, inviting Crown Prince Han Jingling of the Stone Pen Nation and Huang He, the son of the grand general.
Ning Yao asked, "When did you stop wearing straw sandals? When you arrived at Sword Qi Great Wall?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head with a smile. "To be honest, the first time was when I arrived at the Great Sui capital. I specially bought a new outfit and changed into boots. But when I put them on, they felt very awkward. I almost didn't know how to walk. In the end, I didn't go to the academy; I sneaked away and made a run for it. At that time, I was mainly worried that Little Baoping and Li Huai would be looked down upon for standing with me. Later I learned I was overthinking it. I shouldn't have run away."
Then Chen Ping'an laughed to himself. "Actually, before I was five, I didn't wear straw sandals either. Do you still remember the clay pot I hid in the corner of the Clay Bottle Alley house?"
Ning Yao nodded. "I remember. The one where you stored copper coins and the broken porcelain piece."
That clay pot, aside from taking out the broken porcelain, had apparently been left in the ancestral home ever since. Even Ning Yao didn't know what other "family treasures" were inside.
And every time Chen Ping'an returned from a distant journey, he would invariably spend the night in Clay Bottle Alley, alone, waiting for dawn.
When young, Chen Ping'an didn't want anyone to pity him, and he sincerely felt that his life had been fine.
Chen Ping'an said with a beaming smile, "Actually, when I was little, I didn't sell off everything to pay off debts. I kept two things."
There was a custom in his hometown: regardless of wealth, every family did this, or else it wouldn't be considered a home.
Ning Yao turned around and asked curiously, "What?"
Chen Ping'an's smile was brilliant. He raised both hands in front of him, with a very short distance between his palms, and said softly, "A pair of shoes I wore when I was little. They were this small, haha, very small, right?"
Then Chen Ping'an gestured a few times. "And a little shirt. Spread out, it was about this big."
She abruptly turned her head away, not looking at the man with the radiant smile.
He reached out and took her hand, saying softly, "Ning Yao, I've thought of a name for our future child: Chen Ning. How about it? If you want the child to take your surname, that's fine too, but I always feel that 'Ning Chen' doesn't sound as good as 'Chen Ning.'"
Chen Ning.
Chen from Chen Ping'an, Ning from Ning Yao, and ning meaning peace. That child, whether boy or girl, would forever live in stability, with a tranquil heart.
Chen Ping'an actually wanted a daughter more. A girl would be better—a little padded jacket. And she would look more like her mother, but her temperament could be more like his.
---
Song Xu stayed behind alone.
Yuan Huajing sat inside the room on a meditation cushion. Song Xu didn't enter the room but just sat on the threshold. The leaders of the two small peaks rarely had time alone together.
Yuan Huajing exhaled a turbid breath and, for the first time, asked, "Song Xu, did you bring any wine?"
Song Xu laughed. "I don't have any fold-space items with me, and I'm not craving wine, so no. You could ask Gai Yan or Yu Yu; they'd be willing to earn some money."
Yuan Huajing was silent for a moment, then said softly, "Actually, the human heart has already been thoroughly dismantled."
Song Xu said, "I don't really care. Besides you, the other nine feel much the same way. So what Chen Ping'an really dismantled was just your private ambition and desire. If we're to review this, it's actually you who helped Chen Ping'an eliminate a potential threat that could have restrained Fallen Mountain. Even if we join forces again in the future, I think after this mess you've made, as Chen Ping'an said, it's just lining up to deliver our heads."
"Besides that, you have to admit one thing: for yourself, there's no longer any trace of that competitive spirit to ask Chen Ping'an for a sword duel. Self-deception is meaningless."
"For us swordsmen, that means a complete loss. What you need to do next is patch up your state of mind; otherwise, the most likely to develop inner demons isn't Sui Lin or Lu Hui, but you, Yuan Huajing."
"By the way, if in the next hundred years, the one with the best cultivation aptitude ends up with the lowest realm, what I can do is at least not laugh at Yuan Huajing."
Yuan Huajing turned to look at this golden core swordsman, the young prince. "You're much smarter than I imagined."
Song Xu shook his head. "Compared to Chen Ping'an and my imperial uncle, what kind of cleverness is mine?"
This Yuan Huajing was definitely no hero; he had the nature of a fierce chieftain, a local strongman.
Song Xu had always felt that producing a high minister or noble who drains vitality and depletes ancestral blessings was worse than producing an ordinary commoner who accumulates hidden virtues and gathers fortune.
That's why Song Xu and Yuan Huajing could never see eye to eye. And the two of them—one a Song prince, the other a descendant of the Supreme Pillar surname—ought to have been the most kindred spirits.
Song Xu sat with his arms crossed, leaning slightly, his back to Yuan Huajing. Facing the courtyard, the Great Li second prince said, "Have you noticed that Chen Ping'an and that other Chen Ping'an are like two extremes?"
"The National Teacher once said that any strong person in the world, if they only inspire fear, isn't enough; they need to inspire awe. If the Chen Ping'an who opened the door himself and walked out of the Stillwater realm made everyone despair, that was 'all things extinguished,' hence the 'Dog' of the twelve Earth Branches."
"Then the Chen Ping'an who later came to save us was selecting the human nature he recognized in us. At that time, was he 'Rabbit'? 'Dragon'? ‘Shake, Noon, Monkey’? Probably not. More like everything except 'Dog'?"
Yuan Huajing looked at that back, as if truly seeing this Great Li prince for the first time.
When Song Xu nurtured that flying sword "Nursery Rhyme," and especially when he became a cultivator of the Earth Branch lineage, it meant that Song Xu could never become emperor in this life.
Yuan Huajing asked, "Song Xu, have you ever thought about becoming emperor?"
Song Xu nodded. "Of course I have. I even hated this flying sword 'Nursery Rhyme.' Then one day, I suddenly stopped wanting to."
"That time was a sacrificial ceremony. We needed to protect it in secret. I stood far away, watching my father the emperor in his dragon robe, surrounded by stars and moons. Of course, my elder brother was also in the procession. I don't know why, but instead of feeling envious, I felt cramped, as if that dragon robe was a cage. I had a strange thought at that moment: where could our Great Li emperor go in his life? That night, I went to the city wall and stood at that high place. Suddenly I realized that I could go anywhere in this vast world, but my father and brother could not. At that moment, I was content to become a cultivator seeking the long life of the Dao."
Song Xu's elder brother, the Great Li crown prince, was indeed very strategic and not lacking in skill. But he was very different in public and private. When things went against his wishes, he would return to his residence and, knowing better than to smash porcelain or study furnishings (since they would be recorded), resort to tearing silk and satin to vent his frustration. As for the third brother, he had a gentle temperament. Although his talent was not as good as the elder brother's, in Song Xu's view, he might have more resilience. As for the other younger siblings, Song Xu knew them even less.
Jade trees in the courtyard, lush branches and vines—how could they know the hardships of war?
Song Xu suddenly asked, "During this reckless action of yours, did you receive instructions from someone in the palace?"
Yuan Huajing remained silent.
Song Xu didn't press further. He already had the answer.
"Don't let it happen again."
Song Xu stood up to leave, then turned his head and said, "That's from me."
From today on, Yuan Huajing had effectively lost his leadership status among the Earth Branch cultivators.
---
At the flower shed, the Old Scholar wasn't drinking either. He was sitting cross-legged, with his hands interlocked and resting on his knees, looking somewhat... He glanced at the colorful knot tied in Aunt Feng's hair. It was extremely valuable.
Aunt Feng laughed. "What, has the Literary Sage come to act as a mediator for the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land, asking me to return this item? Or did the Flower Mistress of that blessed land, during this deliberation, half-sell and half-gift some fine wine and flower-god cups, softening the heart of some master in the Central Lands Confucian Temple? So today, the Literary Sage is carrying a sage's decree of mouth containing heaven's mandate?"
The Old Scholar said with great righteousness, "This is a matter between women. What business does a big man like me have meddling?"
Not good at it.
Aside from his closed-door disciple, the entire Literary Sage lineage was inept with such matters, all a bunch of bachelors.
The Old Scholar said indignantly, "Besides, considering Aunt Feng's many years of friendship with our Literary Sage lineage, who would dare to be so overbearing with me, a penniless man, and give orders to Aunt Feng? Wouldn't I curse them into a daze?!"
Aunt Feng nodded. "Good. Otherwise, I would have to show you the door."
This colorful knot concealed mysteries. It was the fundamental reason why, throughout the history of the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land, none of the successive generations of flower gods—the destined central flower gods—had ever been able to reach the Flying Ascension realm. Their innate Great Dao lifelines were incomplete. Reaching the Immortal realm was like reaching the end of a dead-end road. And lacking a Flying Ascension cultivator to hold steady, the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land would always be flawed, a beautiful face with a blemish.
The hundred flowers of Haoran World had indeed been badly bullied by Aunt Feng.
The Old Scholar said casually, "All things in the world are mutually causal: this cause bears this fruit, this fruit becomes that cause, that cause bears another fruit. So it goes, cause and effect cycling endlessly, permeating the ordinary and the sage. The logic is just that simple. And because of that, everything in the world always comes full circle, helping us meet again—mountains and waters reuniting—for good or ill. If I just talk logic without giving examples, that's just hooliganism. So let me give an example that's a bit connected to Aunt Feng. You know Haosu, the Executioner of Sword Qi Great Wall? He was originally from a blessed land on Fuyao Continent. Not long ago, he cut off the head of Nan Guangzhao and took on a disciple, making that child swear to eliminate all flower thieves on the mountains. After Haosu committed this act, he knew he couldn't stay long and tried to leave Haoran for the Azure Firmament World. He was stopped by Rites Sage. Dao Lao'er tried to receive him but failed, and was so furious he roared in anger."
Aunt Feng certainly didn't think that the True Invincible of the Jade Capital would lose his composure like that. But the principle that the Old Scholar seemed to casually illustrate was indeed very sound.
After a moment's thought, Aunt Feng extended two fingers, pinched that colorful knot, and took it from her hair. The Old Scholar, though seemingly unperturbed, had his eyes darting around.
In truth, the Old Scholar hadn't come to resolve any grudges. He just had a born tendency to be a workhorse, couldn't help talking off the cuff. If it worked, Aunt Feng and the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land would settle an old grievance—best. If not, no matter.
Aunt Feng held the copper-coin-sized colorful knot. Her hair cascaded like a waterfall from one shoulder, as if a flood had suddenly burst its banks, surging through deep valleys and gorges.
The Old Scholar suddenly raised a hand, not looking directly. "Stop right there, senior!"
Aunt Feng was puzzled but teased, "What, do you take me for a brothel woman about to undress? Facing the moment, the big man chickens out?"
The Old Scholar was so startled he could barely speak. He waved his hands frantically and quickly took a sip of wine to calm his nerves. "No, no! Senior, please don't joke."
Aunt Feng caught on. She retied the colorful knot in her hair and said, "I see. The Literary Sage intends to pass this benefit to Chen Ping'an, to help him when he travels to the Central Lands next year, forming a good connection with the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land?"
The Old Scholar smiled. "The senior is astute."
Aunt Feng laughed. "Being a teacher, paving the way for a student like this—is it hard work and not even felt?"
The Old Scholar shook his head. "Wrong. Many of those accompanying sages in the Central Lands Confucian Temple who previously didn't much approve of the Literary Sage lineage's learning now have a greatly changed impression—that's the merit of my closed-door disciple. Before, when they met me on the road, they'd at most bow to me as the Literary Sage. Now it's different; they're willing to sincerely consult this old scholar on a few matters."
And what changed the attitude of these old fogeys wasn't Chen Ping'an's swordplay, not even his command and strategy as the Hidden Officer in the Summer Palace, but rather that this scholar, more "notorious" than A Liang on Sword Qi Great Wall, had brought clear recitations of books to that great wall, which once hated Haoran World deeply, and later Ascension City. He gradually gave the native swordsmen there a relatively peaceful attitude toward Haoran World, at least acknowledging that Haoran had both good and bad.
Maybe Chen Ping'an himself still wasn't aware of one thing: although he hadn't personally changed Book-Bamboo Lake much, he had indeed transformed the customs of Sword Qi Great Wall.
Perhaps that was the spring wind entering the night, moistening things silently.
Aunt Feng raised her delicate hand—the one anciently called the "thorny palm"—and gently rubbed her red nails with her thumb as she asked casually, "Earlier at the inn, there was quite a commotion. The Literary Sage doesn't seem particularly worried about Chen Ping'an?"
The Old Scholar shook his head. "Passing the heart barrier, cutting off inner demons—my closed-door disciple can handle that with ease."
In fact, the Old Scholar had almost directly summoned Rites Sage. But bragging wasn't against the law.
Then the Old Scholar smiled, turned around, and picked up a wine jar. "A stable life too long is inevitably boring—that's human nature. The joys of the world are like drinking fine wine; they vanish upon waking, hard to keep. Only disappointment remains. Misery, on the other hand, is like tea; often there's a chance for sweetness after bitterness, making people cherish it all the more. Mundane affairs are like drinking water—tasteless, but you need it every day, and you can't go without."
Aunt Feng remained looking down, one hand raised, the other gently stroking her red nails, as if she hadn't caught the Literary Sage's insinuation.
The Old Scholar gently set down that jar of Hundred Flowers Brew. Seeing Aunt Feng's deliberate feigned ignorance, he made it plain. "Now don't think about placing heavy bets anymore. The Confucian Temple has done enough—if not fully, then fairly—for Old Man Yang and for you all. Besides, these days our Rites Sage has a bad temper. I'll advise the senior a word: don't provoke any of them, especially not him. In the past ten thousand years, Rites Sage has said few words in the temple, but he's been patient with you all and hasn't held back. Don't take certain scholars' adherence to rules as a matter of course."
Aunt Feng looked up and smiled sweetly. "Alright, got it. Rest assured. Among those in the Pear Blossom Cave Heaven, I'm the one who listens to advice the most."
The Old Scholar nodded. "That's why I made this trip."
Placing bets—Aunt Feng had done plenty. But compared to other old immortals, her methods were more gentle. More recently, there was Sun Jiashu of Old Dragon City and Zhou Ju of Guanhu Academy; Aunt Feng had used different means to teach and protect the Dao. For example, the Sun family's ancestral abacus and those several golden incense figures who liked to roll on the abacus, symbolizing rolling wealth. When Sun Jiashu silently recited numbers in his mind, the golden figures would push the abacus beads. This wasn't any cultivation technique; it was a genuine innate divine ability. Also, on the Sun family ancestral study table, there was an unremarkable oil lamp that required successive generations of Sun family heads to keep adding oil—that too was Aunt Feng's handiwork.
Aunt Feng began to change the subject. "The betrothal letter the Literary Sage helped Chen Ping'an write—is it without precedent and unlikely to have a successor?"
For this, some wine was needed to enliven the mood. The Old Scholar took a small sip of the Hundred Flowers Brew. "Not bad, not bad. The old man at Sui Mountain was too busy to bother me. Rites Sage was very busy, so I didn't want to disturb him. I only sought out the two deputy masters and the master of our Confucian Temple, Old Man Fu, and the classicist Xiping... altogether, there were about twenty or so scholars qualified to eat cold pork head meat. All kindly helped me polish the wording."
Aunt Feng sighed emotionally. "To be honest, I still can't believe that Chen Ping'an has truly reached this point."
The Old Scholar sat cross-legged, his hands on his knees, looking at the sky and smiling. "As a child, I didn’t know the moon, called it a white jade plate. Listen, my brother Bai Ye—clearly as a child he was from a wealthy family. Otherwise, how could he have written such lines? People like me, and Ping'an, born poor, would at most think it looked like a white bowl or a cake. How could we say such outrageously luxurious words? And 'white jade plate' at that."
Aunt Feng asked curiously, "In this life, will Bai Ye become a swordsman?"
The Old Scholar didn't answer that question. He just smiled to himself. Whether or not he was a swordsman, Bai Ye would have to wear a tiger-head cap before his coming-of-age ceremony. When very young, it looked cute. But still the same as a youth—wasn't that just a bit silly? But the Old Scholar felt that this version of Bai Ye was a different kind of unprecedented delight.
I, the Old Scholar, have added another great beautiful sight to the human world.
Aunt Feng laughed. "The Earth Branch cultivators, though not bad in temperament, are inevitably proud and arrogant at heart, looking down on everyone. Well, now they've met your closed-door disciple. They've had a hard time of it. In one fight, nearly half of them nearly gave birth to inner demons. Truly worthy of being the Hidden Officer of Sword Qi Great Wall."
She couldn't help taking a sip of wine to celebrate. Those little brats—hadn't they once not even put her in their eyes? Granted, it was partly because they didn't know her identity, but even if they did, they might not have respected her much. Especially that swordsman Yuan Huajing, whose heart was higher than the sky. For so many years, he had been wanting to use his flying sword "Night Brag," renamed from "Stop Spirit," to slay a god.
The Old Scholar stroked his beard. "If there's Earth Branch, there'll be Heavenly Stem, and plans like the Twenty-Eight Constellations. For example, on the side of Jade Capital, Dao Lao'er has long been planning the Five Hundred Spirit Officials."
The key to such matters is to be first. Seizing the "one" forms an unbreakable first move in the cycle of the Great Dao. For instance, the earliest of the Earth Branch cultivators was like Cui Chan's first move on the chessboard. Whoever made that move created an unassailable fixed pattern. Anyone else trying to imitate would be too late, rejected by the Great Dao. And this first-move figure had to be a reincarnated deity with a matching fate—the threshold was extremely high.
Aunt Feng hesitated, then waved her sleeve, sending gusts of wind sweeping through the Fire God Temple, before saying, "When Lu Chen set up his fortune-telling stall in Pear Blossom Cave Heaven, I personally participated in completing the Earth Branch line. I went to see Lu Chen at the time. From his tone, he had clearly foreseen Cui Chan's scheme. But when he mentioned it then, he was rather absent-minded, only saying, 'My magic is shallow; I dare not lead the world. I can only follow behind others, copying the gourd, at most making up in quantity.'"
"Lu Chen also said a strange thing before leaving: that the 'accident' Cui Chan had produced was the real accident for the Barren Wasteland World. Later I learned that he was referring to the matter of Bottle Gourd Continent obstructing the Barren Wasteland World."
The Old Scholar looked at her with strange eyes and a complicated expression.
Aunt Feng noticed the Old Scholar's oddity. "Is there another mystery?"
The Old Scholar drank his wine and said nothing.
Zhou Mi of the Barren Wasteland World, before ascending to heaven, had chosen the first hand of the Ten Heavenly Stems. After his ascension, the Barren Wasteland World immediately filled ten people. The key first move was his closed-door disciple, Zhou Qinggao, the wooden clogs of the Jia-Shen account, who then leaped into the Jade Capital realm in one step.
In Bottle Gourd Continent, Great Li's National Teacher Cui Chan began forging the Twelve Earth Branches.
Later came the Twenty-Eight Constellations of the three masters of Jade Capital. The first move was the little junior brother taken on in the master's stead, his Dao name "Shanqing."
The former Haoran Jia Sheng, later Zhou Mi of the Barren Wasteland World, had the longest cultivation years and began arranging his plans earliest.
Lu Chen might not have thought of it much later than Zhou Mi and Cui Chan, but even if he thought of it early, he would definitely have been too lazy to exert himself due to his inherent laziness and carelessness.
Aunt Feng said helplessly, "Literary Sage, don't be silent."
The Old Scholar sighed and raised a hand to point at his own head. "Many years ago, Cui Chan deliberately suppressed his own intellect—that is, he intentionally reduced his own chess strength. When did he start? Roughly when A Liang returned to Haoran World. Maybe even earlier. What's called 'unknown to gods and ghosts' means even he himself didn't know. So when Cui Chan split off Cui Dongshan back then, although it was indeed part of a scheme and a component of the continent-wide plan, its greatest purpose was just a smoke screen. First deceive himself, then he could deceive the Great Dao deductions of all mountain-peak cultivators under heaven. So for Zhou Mi and the entire Barren Wasteland World, this was the greatest accident. First this accident, then later accidents occurred."
"Do you really think Zhou Mi wasn't on guard against Bottle Gourd Continent? Impossible. You must know that the entire Barren Wasteland World's inferior strategy was Zhou Mi alone's superior strategy. Since Zhou Mi was already wary of Bottle Gourd Continent and the Great Li court, especially coveting the Ascension Platform in Pear Blossom Cave Heaven, how could he not have made a very thorough deduction and plan?"
The Old Scholar murmured, "Now as Haoran launches a full-scale attack on the Barren Wasteland, what are we lacking? Immortal money? Manpower and material? The combat power of mountain-peak cultivators? None. We have the advantage in all these. The only thing we lack, the most missing, is such an accident that even Zhou Mi couldn't calculate."
Aunt Feng was stunned. Cui Chan had a problem with his brain, didn't he?!
No wonder back in Pear Blossom Cave Heaven, when Cui Dongshan, who could play a beautiful-cloud game with Zheng Juzhong, had a "falling out" with fellow disciple Qi Jingchun, using the future little junior brother as a chessboard, Cui Chan was everywhere at a disadvantage. She had found it very interesting then, seeing that young man with the mole on his brow constantly suffering setbacks, losing realm after realm. She watched from the sidelines with her sleeves tucked, quite enjoying the misfortune. She hadn't stinted on wine then. And now today the Old Scholar tells her that this was all deliberate by that Embroidered Tiger? And Qi Jingchun had already understood tacitly and cooperated with him? Fine, you two fellow disciples—you treated us all like fools, right?
Aunt Feng slapped her forehead and shook her head vigorously. "No, no! The Old Scholar himself said that Zhou Mi's ascension was his superior strategy. Why didn't Cui Chan and Qi Jingchun stop him?! Wouldn't all their scheming have been for nothing?!"
The Old Scholar squinted. "Preserving Flowing Haze Continent, Northern Jambu Continent, and Daiai Continent, ensuring they lost not an inch of territory, not letting the Barren Wasteland World occupy eight continents and surround the Central Lands—how many fewer people died in our Haoran human world? In Aunt Feng's mouth, that's all for nothing?!"
Aunt Feng was inwardly alarmed and immediately stood to apologize. "Literary Sage, I misspoke."
It was really this visiting Old Scholar, always smiling and unpretentious, so gentle and approachable, that made Aunt Feng almost forget one thing: of the direct disciples of the Literary Sage lineage, which one had a good temper? Cui Chan, the National Teacher who once said, "The Emperor need only listen"? Zuo You, who beat the "swordsman embryo" of the Central Lands into a derogatory phrase? Liu Shiliu, who once drove the world's water creatures fleeing in panic just to beg for their lives? Qi Jingchun, who forced the Yin-Yang family ancestor Lu to almost self-destruct but couldn't? Or the closed-door disciple who recently hacked off the Great Li Empress Dowager's head with one sword?
And the source of this style was the Old Scholar standing before her.
The Old Scholar nodded, then blinked. "I really don't know why. I'm famously only good at taking disciples and teaching. Not good at these roundabout things. It's enough to have pupils surpassing the master."
Mm. I, the Old Scholar, am not good at it, but my several students are. The eldest disciple, Little Qi, the closed-door disciple.
As for Zuo You and Jun Qian, forget it—they're both blockheads missing a strand. They just put on senior brother airs in front of the little junior brother, looking to be scolded, no? They wouldn't dare complain about the teacher being partial.
Aunt Feng was truly curious. She said, "Literary Sage, just a little hint. There will be a reward! For instance... I'm willing to help the Confucian Temple by taking the initiative to do something in the Barren Wasteland World. All the merit will be credited to the Literary Sage lineage."
The Old Scholar shook his head. "No need. The senior doesn't have to go that far. Untoiled salary, received with shame. Our lineage isn't fond of this."
Aunt Feng sat back down on the step, raised her head, and took a strong gulp of wine. Wiping her mouth, she smiled bitterly. "After hearing what the Literary Sage said, I'm afraid to go back to the small town."
Before, she didn't think it was so dangerous; it was more interesting. Now it starts to feel creepy.
Thinking back to those days.
A single Pear Blossom Cave Heaven, just that small piece of territory, just that many people.
The teacher in the small town school, the sage once stationed in Pear Blossom Cave Heaven, Qi Jingchun.
Later, the junior nephew Cui Dongshan, or perhaps the former senior brother Cui Chan.
The old sword beneath the bridge. One of the Five Supremes, the Sword Bearer. Back then, Aunt Feng and her group had mistakenly thought she was just that sword spirit.
Ruan Xiu. Li Liu. Fire God, Water God. Two of the Five Supremes.
Old Man Yang of the apothecary, Qingtong Heavenly Lord, Dongwanggong, holding one of the two Ascension Platforms of the former Heavenly Court, once the male Earth Immortal Ancestor.
Master Yao of the Dragon Kiln.
Mr. Sanshan Jiuhou, a master of all arts and spells, the ancestor of talismans and alchemy under heaven.
Li Xisheng of Fortune and Emolument Street, the first disciple of the Dao Ancestor, one of the "Great Masters" of Jade Capital.
Lu Chen, who set up a stall, the third master of Jade Capital in the Azure Firmament World.
Zhigui of Clay Bottle Alley, the embryo of the last true dragon in the world.
Zou Zi of the Yin-Yang school, who walked the streets pushing a cart of sugar-coated hawthorns, "calculating all heavenly matters."
Aunt Feng, the old coachman, the ancestor of the Dragon-Raising lineage, the Lu clan ancestor of the Central Lands Yin-Yang school who governed the Five Elements lineage.
Li Er. Zheng Dafeng, the gatekeeper.
The Ultimate Realm martial artist Cui Cheng, who had been expected to break the great heavenly threshold and become a god as a pure martial artist.
The Prince Song Changjing, who had served as a kiln supervisor for a time.
The blind Daoist "Jia Sheng," the dragon slayer from three thousand years ago.
Ruan Qiong, the number one sword forger of Bottle Gourd Continent.
Heavenly Lord Xie Shi, whose ancestral home was in Peach Leaf Alley, and the swordsman Cao Xi, whose ancestral home was in Clay Bottle Alley.
Ning Yao, now the number one of the Five Colors World.
Later, Zheng Juzhong of Baidi City also appeared in the small town.
Just think: any outsider traveling there, who would dare to act recklessly, claiming invincibility? Comparing sword techniques? Dao arts? Martial skills? Divine powers? Schemes?
Even if you were a Flying Ascension great cultivator, whether one like Nan Guangzhao, whose head was cut off by Executioner Haosu, or the powerful Flying Ascension like the wild cultivator with the Dao name "Qingmi," if they had known in advance the full truth and inside story of that tiny Pear Blossom Cave Heaven, they'd probably have weak legs. Their courage might not be as great as Chen Lingjun's.
In the small town, the old ones wouldn't dare provoke anyone at all. The young ones—would outsiders dare? Still not.
Among the youngest generation back then were Chen Ping'an, Liu Xianyang, Song Jixin, Ma Kuxuan, Li Baoping, Li Huai, Gu Can, Zhao Yao, Lin Shouyi, Xie Ling, Su Dian, Shi Lingshan...
Looking back, even for the locals of the small town or beings like Aunt Feng, being in the middle of it was still like seeing flowers through mist.
"What's there to be afraid of in returning? If the body is straight, the shadow won't be crooked. With no ghost in the heart, you fear not the night road."
The Old Scholar smiled. "But that said, it's not like it is for Aunt Feng and you all. The world's affairs are infinite; our lifetimes are limited. Perhaps that's why we cherish this human journey and this distant travel all the more."
Those who cultivate the Dao are no longer human.
In some people's eyes, the human world is an empty city.
That's wrong.
The Old Scholar stood up, planning to return to the Confucian Temple. Naturally, he didn't forget to tuck the two jars of Hundred Flowers Brew into his sleeve. He thanked Aunt Feng. "If the host can make the guest drunk, the guest will mistake a foreign land for home. If there were more seniors like Aunt Feng, it would truly be humanity's fortune."
Aunt Feng stood up as well and asked tentatively, "Literary Sage, won't you tell me the reason after all?"
The Old Scholar smiled. "Having heard so much, if it were my closed-door disciple, the answer would already be in his heart."
Aunt Feng reached out and pinched the colorful knot, annoyed. "Literary Sage, if you don't tell me, I'll pretend this never happened!"
The Old Scholar shook his head with a smile. That wouldn't be fun. Besides, I didn't really take it seriously. As for my closed-door disciple, even less so. You're not the only one capable of ruining flowers to make a point, Aunt Feng.
Aunt Feng sighed and resigned herself. "One thing at a time. I'll deliver the item as promised. Don't worry, Literary Sage. I guarantee that when Chen Ping'an travels to the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land later, he'll be treated as an honored guest. Maybe it won't be difficult for him to become the long-vacant Supreme Guest Elder of that blessed land."
In a year of twelve months, the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land has twelve high-ranking flower goddesses. Among these twelve flower goddesses are the Flower Mistress of the blessed land and four goddesses of destiny who respectively govern the blooming of the four seasons. Each of the twelve flower goddesses has her own guest elder. There is also a Supreme Guest Elder similar to Bai Ye's relationship with the peonies—though Bai Ye never accepted the appointment and never visited the blessed land.
So the empty title of Supreme Guest Elder couldn't be taken seriously. It was mostly the flower goddesses' wishful thinking. Moreover, the position of Supreme Guest Elder for the entire blessed land's hundred flowers had been vacant for several millennia. The blessed land was actually waiting for someone who could retrieve from Aunt Feng that colorful knot, refined from the lifelines of all the flower goddesses.
The Old Scholar's eyes lit up. For the senior to be so considerate was very kind indeed.
But the answer—he still wouldn't give it. Let her stew.
Aunt Feng suddenly said, "How about I make a bet with the Literary Sage? The wager is ten jars of tribute-grade Hundred Flowers Brew. After so many years of drinking, not much remains. I'll bet that Chen Ping'an can't give the answer. What do you say?"
The Old Scholar became interested and stroked his beard. "And if the senior wins? After all, the senior's chances seem too great. In my view, it's practically a sure thing. So ten jars seems a bit small, doesn't it?"
Aunt Feng twitched the corner of her mouth. "Then eighteen jars. I'll keep only two for myself. If I win, the knot still goes to Chen Ping'an, but after he becomes the Supreme Guest Elder, I need the twelve flower goddesses to come to me and apologize together. If Chen Ping'an gets the knot but travels to the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land without making the flower goddesses apologize—whether he becomes the Supreme Guest Elder or not—then he must do one thing for me: protect the flower thieves on the mountains from being completely wiped out."
The Old Scholar looked shocked. "Such a big bet? That's not appropriate, is it?"
Aunt Feng smiled. "Then forget it?"
The Old Scholar rubbed his hands. "Alright, alright. A small bet for fun."
Aunt Feng used her innate divine ability, seemingly scooping up a small stream from the river of time, then condensed it into a gust of wind, sending it toward Chen Ping'an at the inn door.
Aunt Feng was about to speak when the Old Scholar pulled out a jar of wine from his sleeve, shook it, and said confidently, "I won't lose, so I'll tell you the answer now and it won't matter."
Aunt Feng still didn't understand. Shortly after, that wisp of breeze returned to the flower shed at the Fire God Temple. Chen Ping'an, having almost instantly heard his teacher's words, gave the answer on the spot. He said just four words, which were actually what Cui Chan had said long ago in Book-Bamboo Lake.
"Set a trap and let them walk into it."