Chapter 841: New Sword Cultivators
Chen Ping'an intended to ask the old cultivator Liu Jia for some mountain and water gazettes—those from this continent and other continents, the more the better.
Unexpectedly, on his way to the small alley, a young Court of State Ceremonies official came to him proactively. His official rank was low, barely a ninth-rank, having just entered the "pure stream" of officialdom, though he temporarily held posts in the Capital Temple Affairs Bureau and the Imperial Workshops. However, he was also a cultivator, at the Guanhai realm. He respectfully handed Chen Ping'an a wooden official token, speaking in fluent Great Li official dialect with a slight Xiangzhou accent, saying that the Court Chamberlain had personally ordered him to be responsible for liaising with Mr. Chen. If anything came up, he should be called upon, and he would come at any time. Besides the wooden token, there was also a small, exquisite sword box engraved with the character "Heaven," only the size of a palm. The young official himself kept a "Earth" character box, facilitating communication between them via flying swords.
The young man was named Xun Qu, elegant and handsome, a second-class *jinshi* from the new imperial examination.
The Nanxun Ward on the right side of the Thousand-Step Corridor was filled with government offices, one of which was the Court of State Ceremonies, adjacent to the Ministry of Works where Guan Yiran worked.
Chen Ping'an looked at the wooden token. On the front was inscribed "Court of State Ceremonies, Usher." On the back: "Officials attending court must wear this token; those without it will be punished according to law; lending it or borrowing it is equally punishable. Not required outside the capital."
As soon as he saw the handwriting, he recognized it as that of the head of the Tianshui Zhao clan. In fact, the "Admonition Stone" inscription that adorned all government offices in the country also came from that clan head's hand.
At first, Chen Ping'an found it strange that the Great Li court would send a minor official from the Court of State Ceremonies, temporarily managing temple repairs in the capital, to follow him. Regardless of the young man's ministry, rank, or cultivation level, it seemed inappropriate. But when he heard the young man's name, he understood the court's intention. Xun Qu came from a humble, cold clan in a vassal state of Great Li. Crucially, he was a good friend of Chen Ping'an's student, Cao Qinglang. When Cao Qinglang came to the capital for the metropolitan examination that year, he and Xun Qu had stayed together at a temple in the capital. The two poor fellows found joy in hardship; between studying, they often roamed the bookstores and antique markets, only looking, never buying.
Cao Qinglang, at Fallen Mountain, had only mentioned Xun Qu among his fellow examination graduates and colleagues in officialdom, so Chen Ping'an remembered the name of his student's acquaintance.
A smile appeared on Chen Ping'an's face. He returned the wooden token to Xun Qu and said jokingly, "In a few days, when I'm free, you and I will go together to the West Glass Factory. Buying books and seals will definitely be paid for by the Court of State Ceremonies. If you have your eye on any rare editions or famous seal carvings, just give me a wink—I'll buy them all and give them to you later. Naturally, that won't count as you embezzling public funds."
Xun Qu nodded gently. He understood. No wonder Cao Qinglang wasn't a bookworm, was flexible in everything, and always seemed confident. It turned out he learned all that from his teacher.
But this Mr. Chen was indeed much more approachable than he had imagined.
Chen Ping'an put the small sword box into his sleeve and said, "Usher Xun, there is indeed something I need your help with. Send some mountain and water gazettes to this residence, as many as possible."
Xun Qu immediately took his leave, saying he would get to it right away. Mr. Chen would need to wait about an hour.
Chen Ping'an nodded and went to the alley. First, he told Liu Jia not to stop the young man from the Court of State Ceremonies named Xun Qu. The old cultivator naturally had no objection; a mere Guanhai realm cultivator wasn't worth the effort to block anyway.
Chen Ping'an arrived at his senior brother's residence, leaving the door open. He picked a few books from the "Parrot Pavilion" to read, patiently waiting for the young man to bring the gazettes.
When there was still the time it takes to burn an incense stick left before the hour was up, a carriage stopped near the alley. Xun Qu got off, walked into the alley, and called out softly at the door, "Mr. Chen." The young man held a paper bag. Chen Ping'an came to the door but did not invite the young official inside. Xun Qu glanced at the courtyard gate, made a respectful bow, and left. Chen Ping'an returned to the book pavilion, sat on a round-backed chair made of Huanghuali wood from Danzhou, and opened the bag. Inside, besides over a dozen mountain and water gazettes from various clans and sects in the Haoran world, there were also court gazettes from the six ministries of the Great Li government.
Yi Chi Lane and Chi'er Street were not far from Nanxun Ward and Kejia Lane, where many government offices were located. It took Xun Qu about half an hour to go and come back, meaning these twenty-odd gazettes were collected in less than half an hour. Apart from the mountain and water gazettes under the Ministry of Rites, which were easy to gather, the Court of State Ceremonies had to visit seven or eight heavily guarded ministries. As for proactively sending the court gazettes, Chen Ping'an guessed it was more likely Xun Qu's own suggestion rather than the Court Chamberlain's order. After all, "not taking responsibility" was one of the primary arts of official cultivation.
When Chen Ping'an flipped through the *Shanhai Sect* gazette, he frowned deeply. He couldn't understand what he had done to offend this major sect in the Central Continent Divine Land. Could it be that last time, when Rites Sage threw him over there, he was mistaken for a lecher trespassing into the sect's forbidden area, and they held a grudge? That didn't seem likely. The founding matriarch who liked to smoke a dry pipe, Nalan Xianxiu, seemed easy to get along with. But ultimately, the first gazette to leak his name was from Shanhai Sect. Was he being implicated by A Liang? Or was it because his senior brother, Cui Chan, had broken the heart of a young lady from Shanhai Sect back in the day? Consequently, he, as the junior brother, was also looked down upon?
Suddenly, a gentle breeze swept through the book pavilion. Twelve jars of "Hundred Blossom Brew" instantly landed on the book table, and Aunt Feng's voice sounded in the breeze: "I made a bet with the Literary Sage and lost. I'm delivering these twelve jars of Hundred Blossom Brew to you as promised."
Chen Ping'an asked, "Has my teacher left the Fire God Temple?"
Aunt Feng replied, "Yes. I accompanied the Literary Sage for a stretch of the journey, all the way to the western coast of Bottle Gourd Continent."
Chen Ping'an thanked her and said with a smile, "If Aunt Feng feels heartache over the wine, feel free to take back the Hundred Blossom Brew. Consider it my thanks as a junior."
Aunt Feng said, "No need. I still have over a hundred jars left. I don't miss these twelve."
Chen Ping'an noted that: over a hundred jars.
He focused more on the official gazettes. He leaned on the table, took out the flask of Hundred Blossom Brew he had opened earlier at the Fire God Temple, and a plate of salted soybeans, reading with great interest.
A vice director of the Ministry of Works in the secondary capital, named Li Chui, was proficient in hydraulic engineering. He had drawn a map of river diversion and topography. However, the project was enormous, involving the rerouting of several tributary rivers of the major rivers, and required the court to send people for on-site verification. Some officials reported that the demand for large timber from Yuzhang Commandery, Hongzhou, was so great among the capital's nobles that theft of giant logs could never be stamped out, leading to frequent armed clashes between officials and thieves. In Yunzhou, within the vassal state of Huangting Kingdom, a stream over fifty miles long had been discovered, yet to be named. Its water quality was excellent, like sweet spring. According to examination by the Astronomy Bureau's geomancers, it was very likely the site of a dragon palace from the ancient Shu Kingdom. In Wuzhou, at the Jianbo Mountain, the number of looms had reached 1,200 by the end of last year, with an annual output of 30,000 bolts of silk. Could the court consider establishing a silk-weaving bureau there? An official from the Ministry of Rites named Wang Qinruo proposed compiling and summarizing the national genealogy books, branch genealogies, and all ancestral halls—main halls, branch halls, and sub-branches—of every prefecture, commandery, and county. Someone from the Ministry of War suggested abolishing some courier stations, reducing the number of petty officials, and avoiding redundant appointments, elaborating on the pros and cons of this move...
After finishing the gazettes, Chen Ping'an put them all into his sleeve, sat back in the round-backed chair, and closed his eyes to rest. He concentrated his spirit, and a grain of mustard-seed mind began to patrol the various vital mansions in his small world.
When he reached the Water Mansion, two "Rain Master" door gods with blurred faces—one male, one female—were posted at the entrance. Inside, the little people in green clothes saw Chen Ping'an and became extremely excited. Some were a bit tipsy, because Chen Ping'an had just drunk a flask of Hundred Blossom Brew, causing a timely, moisture-rich sweet rain to fall within the Water Mansion. Chen Ping'an greeted them with a smile. He looked at the large river map painted on the wall of the Water Mansion. The spirit beings that had been given "eyeballs" were becoming more numerous and lifelike. Each painted figure was like a true deity. Because of his affinity with the water Dao, back when he was refining the "Water" character seal above the sea of clouds in Old Dragon City, the female mountain lord of a continent's southern sacred mountain, Fan Junmao, had personally protected him. During the refinement, Chen Ping'an had inadvertently discovered an extremely rare water method "Dao lineage"—the text formed by these green-clad children. It was actually a highly profound Daoist formula, which could be directly passed on to direct disciples as a lineage transmission for a mountain's ancestral hall. At the time, Fan Junmao had even mistaken Chen Ping'an for a reincarnation of the Rain Master.
Chen Ping'an tucked his hands into his sleeves, squatted by the pond, and said with a smile to a few slightly larger green-clad children, "Back then, we agreed that I would send you back to the Biyou Palace of the River Goddess of Maihe. It's been delayed for so long—please don't blame me. Next time Fallen Mountain chooses a site for a lower sect in Tongye Continent, I'll send you home."
The green-clad children were both happy and sad.
After breaking through to the Dragon Gate realm in his early years, Chen Ping'an had refined the two ancient remnant swords he obtained from trading with Outer Devils into two flood dragons in this "Longqiu" pond. The water vein flood dragon that had first manifested from his Water Pill had been further refined into a Water Vein Dark Pearl, eventually forming, besides the Water Mansion's Water character seal and the great river map, a "Two Dragons Chasing a Pearl" dragon pool configuration.
Chen Ping'an took out two jars of Hundred Blossom Brew from his sleeve and placed them beside the pond, which was still at the "Longqiu" rank. He removed the red paper seals. A black and a white flood dragon emerged from the water, drinking the wine in the manner of dragons sucking water, but they seemed afraid to meet Chen Ping'an's eyes.
Leaving the Water Mansion, Chen Ping'an went to the Mountain Shrine. He sprinkled some of the ten-thousand-year-old earth, which the Hundred Blossom Blessed Land used to seal wine, at the foot of the mountain, gently tamping it down with his hands.
Mountains and rivers depend on each other. Accumulated water becomes deep pools, and flood dragons are born; accumulated earth becomes mountains, and wind and rain arise. This was why the direct disciples of sects' ancestral halls and registered immortal masters would try their best to gather the five elemental fundamental objects. The twelve "Earthly Branch" Qi Refiners all did the same. These favored children of heaven never worried about immortal money or heavenly treasures on their path of cultivation. The most crucial fundamental object for each of them was a heavy treasure of half-immortal-soldier rank. Just think of the Fu family of Old Dragon City, once the wealthiest family on the continent, with a knack for making money. After thousands of years of hard accumulation, they only had three half-immortal-soldier treasures.
Chen Ping'an planned to inform Ning Yao at the inn that he would stay and cultivate at this residence today. He walked around the desk to the door and tentatively called out, "Ning Yao, can you hear me?"
There was no response from Ning Yao's mind-voice.
Chen Ping'an had to go to the inn in person. But just as he reached the courtyard gate, he heard Ning Yao ask, "Something up?"
Chen Ping'an said, "I'll stay here today. Tomorrow morning, we'll go watch the arena match between Yu Hong and Zhou Haijing?"
Ning Yao said that was fine. Chen Ping'an suddenly wondered: if he didn't stay here, could he stay at the inn? That was a bit of a worry. So he simply walked into the alley to the White Jade Dojo to chat with the master and disciple pair. The youth Zhao Duanming had just finished a major circulation cycle and was practicing those eye-piercing boxing forms. The old cultivator sat on a meditation cushion. Chen Ping'an squatted down and asked the youth for a handful of five-spice peanuts. Liu Jia asked, "How did you get involved with the Court of State Ceremonies?"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "I have a student named Cao Qinglang. Heard of him?"
Liu Jia thought for a moment. "The new second-place *jinshi*?"
Chen Ping'an hummed in agreement. "Cao Qinglang and this Usher Xun from the Court of State Ceremonies were fellow graduates. They got to know each other when they both came to the capital for the spring examination. They have a good relationship."
Liu Jia asked with a puzzled expression, "Why is your student only the second-place *jinshi* and not the top scholar?"
Chen Ping'an couldn't be bothered to answer; he just squinted at the old cultivator and threw peanut shells on the ground.
Zhao Duanming, alternating between shouts and punches, said, "Master, you don't know. According to my grandfather, that year's imperial examination was exceptionally talented. With so many brilliant minds, even if Cao Qinglang and Yang Shuang were only the second and third places, among the first few of the second-class *jinshi*, there were many who, in previous years, could have easily taken first place."
Liu Jia casually said, "The capital has a spring examination every three years. It still produces the top three every time—nothing special. In my opinion, since he didn't get first place, it would have been better to be third. Then he could ride through the capital on horseback with the youngest *jinshi*, stealing the spotlight. If I remember correctly, Yang Shuang was eighteen that year, and the other little guy was only fifteen? How old was your student Cao Qinglang then? Past his coming-of-age ceremony?"
Chen Ping'an said with a chuckle, "Old Immortal Master Liu, how old are you this year?"
Liu Jia stroked his beard and smiled. "If I had participated in the imperial examination in my youth, riding as the third-place scholar would have been a sure thing for me."
Chen Ping'an left the White Jade Dojo. The youth whispered, "Master, that Cao Qinglang is very impressive. My grandfather, when chatting privately with an old friend from the Ministry of Rites, specifically mentioned him. He said that in the two subjects of governance and military affairs, Cao Qinglang's exam papers were universally acknowledged as the best. The two chief examiners and over a dozen assistant examiners even gathered specially to review his papers together."
Liu Jia chuckled. "Nonsense, do you think I don't know that Cao Qinglang is extraordinary? I was just trying to get under Chen Ping'an's skin. He already has Pei Qian as his first disciple and isn't satisfied. Now he has a proud student who placed second in the exams. Why flaunt it at me?"
Zhao Duanming said cautiously, "Master, from now on, when you go out at night, be careful. I heard Brother Chen say that Vice Minister Zhao of the Ministry of Justice was hung in a tree."
The old cultivator's eyelids twitched at that. Hanging a capital vice minister from a tree? Liu Jia asked in confusion, "Zhao Yao of the Ministry of Justice? Isn't he Chen Ping'an's fellow townsman, and from the same scholarly lineage? Are their relations that strained? That can't be. Didn't you say earlier that Zhao Yao had come looking for Chen Ping'an? That's quite taboo in official circles."
Zhao Duanming nodded. "Yes, they seem to have a good relationship. There's also that master-nephew connection, just like how familiar you and I are with Brother Chen. So, Master, you still need to be careful."
Liu Jia said irritably, "Why didn't you say something earlier?"
The youth said aggrievedly, "Master, you were on a roll just now, speaking with double meanings and hidden barbs. I was enjoying it too much to interrupt."
The old cultivator glanced at the pile of peanut shells beside his cushion and said with a smile, "Duanming, tomorrow you're going with that drunkard Cao to watch the arena, right? Take Brother Chen along and help him find a good spot."
Zhao Duanming rolled his eyes. "Brother Chen doesn't need my help. He has his own 'no-trouble' token issued by the Ministry of Justice."
The old cultivator complained, "It's the thought that counts. Don't you understand that? And you call yourself a child of officialdom? Did you get struck stupid by lightning?"
Zhao Duanming said "oh" and continued practicing his self-taught martial arts forms. Could he even withstand one or half a punch from grandmasters like Yu Hong or Zhou Haijing?
The next day, near the Fire God Temple, a widely renowned peak-level martial contest was about to begin.
The old innkeeper had originally intended to ask Chen Ping'an if he could take his daughter along, to avoid any petty thieves or lechers eyeing her. But unexpectedly, his daughter had already run off early in the morning, probably having made plans with some friends to go to the market first and then secure a good spot early. The old man had to give up.
Word of this contest had been spreading through the capital's streets for over a month. So, when they neared the Fire God Temple, a journey that would normally take the time to burn an incense stick took Chen Ping'an and Ning Yao a full half-hour due to the crowds. The streets were packed, and street vendors had squeezed into every available space along the roads leading to the training ground behind the Fire God Temple, making them even more congested. From time to time, there were women's screams or panicked cries of lost belongings. Youths and strong men moved through the crowd like fish in water, targeting commoners' valuables or young women for gropes. Once they succeeded, they vanished in an instant.
Ning Yao began to regret joining Chen Ping'an in this commotion. It was too noisy and chaotic. In just this short distance, Chen Ping'an had dealt with five or six groups of would-be molesters. One of them, caught by Chen Ping'an by the wrist with a smile, was lifted onto his tiptoes and immediately turned pale with pain. Chen Ping'an released his grip, tapped the guy on the head, and the dizzy fellow promptly led his companions far away. After a few such incidents, no one dared try anything in their vicinity. Damn it, that young couple were clearly martial artists!
Along the way, a gang of thieves was ambushed by several undercover government agents. The agents struck their targets hard on the head with scabbards, sending them sprawling to the ground with blood streaming from their foreheads. The thieves crouched with their heads down and obediently handed over a large pile of money pouches and quite a few fragrant sachets taken from women. An elderly government runner seemed to recognize one of the youths. He pulled him aside, glared at him, and scolded him, ordering the boy to leave immediately. The rest were taken by a subordinate to the county office.
Yu Hong was white-haired and burly. This martial artist from the former Zhuying dynasty was said to be 150 years old but still strong and vigorous. In recent years, he had broken through to the Peak realm.
Following a designated route set by the Ministry of Justice, the old grandmaster soared from the south of the capital, landing steadily, and instantly appeared in the square behind the Fire God Temple, drawing thunderous applause.
As for Zhou Haijing, the female grandmaster from a small coastal vassal state in the southwest, she had yet to show herself.
Before reaching the Peak realm, Zhou Haijing was unknown. She came from a fishing family and was said to be the daughter of a fish market boss. Now fifty-seven, she had the youthful face of someone in her early twenties. Tall and slender, rumored to be remarkably beautiful, today's noble sons of the capital were mostly there for her. As for Yu Hong, what was there to see? Did they want to look at an old man's bulging muscles?
Not far from the training ground, at the mouth of an alley, a carriage was parked. Inside, a young woman sat cross-legged, breathing deeply, her demeanor steady.
She held a scented cake called "Buddha's Hand Incense," a highly sought-after item in the capital. Once she wiped it, her hands would remain fragrant all day.
A continent, a hundred nations—everything gathered in one city of Great Li.
Her coachman was an exceptionally handsome, scholarly-looking man, dressed in a snow-white long robe, with a segment of green bamboo at his waist, and a longsword named "Green Pearl" on his back.
The woman changed her grip on the scented cake and said softly through the curtain to the coachman outside, "I apologize for troubling Mr. Su to be my coachman."
The coachman, whom Zhou Haijing respectfully called Mr. Su, was none other than the Green Bamboo Sword Immortal of Songxi Kingdom, a vassal state in central Bottle Gourd Continent: Su Lang.
Not long ago, Su Lang had just emerged from seclusion, having successfully broken through to the Yuanyou realm. He was now secretly serving as a second-class retainer of the Great Li Ministry of Justice. He and Zhou Haijing had known each other in the martial world for years. Of course, Su Lang had designs on this young-looking female grandmaster, but unfortunately, one side was interested while the other was not. This time, Zhou Haijing was in the capital for a contest with Yu Hong. Su Lang, both publicly and privately, felt obliged to act as a partial host.
Zhou Haijing put down the scented cake and picked up a makeup mirror, examining herself from every angle. She was, in every sense, a lovable, beautiful woman, a true beauty.
Then she showed a trace of self-pity. She was really not young anymore, yet she still had no man in her heart. What a pity: her makeup was done, but there was no lord to ask if it suited him.
Su Lang asked, "I wonder if Pei Qian will come to watch?"
Of the four grandmasters on the continent's martial arts ranking, Pei Qian was second, the youngest, and had the best reputation.
Zhou Haijing, dressed in a goose-yellow gown, shook her head as she lightly applied a yellow flower pattern to her forehead. "She'll probably come, but she might conceal her presence. You can tell that Pei Qian is not one to seek fame."
Zhou Haijing glanced at the makeup box at her feet and frowned slightly. Earning a bit of dowry money was really not easy. She still had many hairpins and ornaments to put on her head. There was no other way; opportunities like this were rare. She had already made price agreements with over a dozen shops in the capital—silk and satin shops, cosmetics and powder shops, hairpin and jewelry shops, and so on. If she defaulted on any item, she would have to pay a substantial penalty afterward.
Su Lang reminded her, "Yu Hong has arrived."
Zhou Haijing hurriedly finished tidying up, stood up, lifted the curtain, and jumped out of the carriage, dripping with jewelry and finery. She looked less like a martial artist about to spar and more like a woman who had lived in poverty and suddenly become wealthy—so she wore every valuable thing she could on her body, head, and hands.
Su Lang suppressed a smile. It did look very comical, but if anyone thought Zhou Haijing's fists were soft because of it, they would be sorely mistaken.
Zhou Haijing didn't hurry to the training ground. She stopped beside the carriage, carefully adjusted a gold hairpin that seemed to "lean out like a cliff," and said, "Don't laugh, Mr. Su. You've never lived through hard times, so you don't know how hard it is to earn money."
On a tavern rooftop some distance from the training ground, the youth Zhao Duanming grabbed a man's neck and said angrily, "Drunkard Cao?! This is what you call 'near the water, get the moon first'? A prime spot?!"
Cao Gengxin, who had been promoted back to the capital after serving as the supervisor of the Longzhou Kiln, patted the boy's arm and coughed. "Duanming, you're a cultivator. At such a short distance, it's no different for you, right? You can still see everything clearly. Besides, you have to admit the view is open here? Let go, let go. If you accidentally choke a court official to death, that's a serious crime."
Zhao Duanming tightened his grip instead, fuming. "A proper vice minister of the capital, begging left and right, and this is the spot he gets? Who was it earlier thumping his chest and bragging? Are you kidding me?!"
Cao Gengxin let his head loll and rolled his eyes.
Zhao Duanming quickly let go. Cao Gengxin immediately straightened up, took off the polished gourd at his waist, took a swig of wine, and craned his neck to look at Zhou Haijing by the carriage at the alley entrance. What a lovely figure—supple, swaying, as if about to burst forth—hard for an ordinary man to grasp. Cao Gengxin's gaze shifted slightly downward, wiped his mouth, squinted, and extended two fingers to measure from afar, sighing admiringly, "Sister Haijing lives up to her reputation. Those legs are really long."
Zhao Duanming glanced at Cao Gengxin's crotch. Cao Gengxin happened to be looking the same way. Their eyes met—both of them seemed similarly composed—and they exchanged a knowing smile. It seemed the other had good self-control. Neither had lost their composure. Cao Gengxin coughed. "Duanming, you need to be more upright."
Zhao Duanming snorted. "I heard from my second aunt that when you were just over ten, you were already secretly selling erotic picture books on Yi Chi Lane and Chi'er Street. Tsk. If someone couldn't afford them, I heard they could even borrow them, with the price doubling every day."
Cao Gengxin laughed. "Did your second aunt also mention that she was one of the little tagalongs following me back then, helping me go door to door as cover? She got a share of the profits. When we finished our business and went home, we'd sit on the bluestone at the foot of the Guan Family wall and count our money separately. Your second sister's eyes shone the brightest. She was even more skilled than me at licking her finger to count banknotes and weighing silver ingots."
Zhao Duanming was dumbfounded. That couldn't be. In his impression, his second aunt was famously virtuous and refined, one of the few well-bred young ladies of Yi Chi Lane. In her younger days, suitors had worn down the doorstep.
But Zhao Duanming also knew that, like many women, his second aunt had secretly harbored love for a certain drunkard for many years, but kept it within the bounds of propriety—having it was like not having it.
Zhao Duanming couldn't understand. Why did his second aunt and the others not like that bookworm Yuan Zhengding, but instead like Cao Gengxin, who had been "reprehensible and notorious" since childhood? Could it be that old saying was true: "Men who are bad are what women love"? The boy had heard his grandfather say that many elders on Yi Chi Lane and Chi'er Street had guarded against the idle, good-for-nothing little thief of the Cao family like guarding against a real thief. The most famous incident was this: the eldest daughter of the Yuan family—Yuan Zhengding's older sister—who was a few years older than Cao Gengxin, somehow angered him when they were children. At only five or six, Cao Gengxin would go to block her door every day. Whenever she came out, he would drop his pants.
Even now, some people of the same generation still liked to call Cao Gengxin "Cao the Thief."
Zhao Duanming asked in his mind, "Aren't you going to ask me about Mr. Chen?"
Cao Gengxin shook his head with a smile. "Ask what? What's the point? Connecting from afar, even without a word, is far better than face-to-face polite small talk."
Zhao Duanming nodded and asked a question that everyone on Yi Chi Lane and Chi'er Street was curious about. "Drunkard Cao, you're not young anymore. Why are you still single? My second aunt and the others say it might be because you don't like women, you like men, so you never married."
Cao Gengxin was so angry he slapped his knee. "So that's it! No wonder my parents keep asking me odd questions every now and then. My father, with his gentlemanly demeanor, even started hinting that I should visit the pleasure quarters more often. So it was your second aunt and those other gossipy women! They couldn't have me, a desirable lover, body and soul, so they slander me behind my back! If I were younger, I'd strip off my pants and chase them through the streets, yelling at them."
Zhao Duanming snickered. "Drunkard Cao, even if you did drop your pants, there might not be much to see."
Cao Gengxin sighed. "Yi Chi Lane and Chi'er Street aren't as fun as they were when I was a kid."
Then Cao Gengxin ruffled the boy's hair. "I haven't forgotten my old karmic bond from the Lingjiu Temple; may I win a perfect, round fulfillment in this life. You're still young. You wouldn't understand."
Suddenly, Cao Gengxin turned to face the distance and raised his wine gourd. On a distant rooftop ridge, a man in blue robes smiled and raised his own vermilion wine gourd.
It was Chen Ping'an. He had found that on the ground, it was truly impossible to see the martial contest. Many people had brought stools and chairs from home. So, unconcerned about revealing his "immortal" identity, he and Ning Yao had flashed over to this open rooftop.
That Zhou Haijing, graceful and alluring, walked unhurriedly toward the training ground. In her hand, she held a flask of celestial wine from the mountains, drinking as she walked.
Ning Yao found it strange. Wasn't this female grandmaster, about to spar, a bit too gaudy?
Chen Ping'an felt his eyes had been opened. She could earn money like this? He himself couldn't learn it even if he tried.
Zhou Haijing's clothes, hairpins, cosmetics, bracelets, wine... She was like a moving golden signboard, attracting business.
Sure enough, in the crowd, shops continuously loudly proclaimed that some item on Grandmaster Zhou's person came from a certain store.
At the Fire God Temple training ground, a snail-shell dojo from the immortals had been set up. To the eyes of ordinary mortals, the two figures inside seemed as small as mustard seeds. Fortunately, several mirror-flower-water-moon projections had been erected, including one from the Changchun Palace. Water curtains stood all around, showing every detail. One of the mountain's mirror-flower-water-moon projections intentionally lingered long on Zhou Haijing's hair bun and dress, while others subtly focused on the grandmaster's makeup and earrings.
Some storytellers who made a living in the capital's taverns were especially serious, constantly writing down notes about the female grandmaster. Every move of the two martial grandmasters would be turned into real gold in the future.
Zhou Haijing threw the wine flask to the ground. Damn, the taste was really mediocre, yet she had to pretend she was drinking top-quality nectar. It was more exhausting than the fight. Then she lightly touched the ground with her toe, swaying gracefully as she landed in the middle of the training ground. She smiled, clasped her fists, and said loudly, "Zhou Haijing greets Senior Yu."
Yu Hong returned the salute with folded fists.
Ning Yao asked, "What will be the outcome of this contest?"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "As of now, Zhou Haijing has a better chance. Their ninth-level martial arts foundations are about the same, but Zhou Haijing has the spirit of a life-or-death struggle. Setting aside their respective trump cards, the odds are roughly sixty-forty. Yu Hong is here to win; Zhou Haijing is here to kill. At their level of martial arts, it all comes down to mindset. Whoever has the stronger will and sees no one before them wins the day."
Ning Yao asked, "If they fought you, how many punches could they take?"
Chen Ping'an smiled and said nothing, just drinking.
Ning Yao pressed, "I'm asking you."
Chen Ping'an had to answer honestly, "If I really wanted to settle it quickly, one punch would be enough."
He took a sip of wine and looked at the standoff in the training ground. "But if they were really up against me, even if they knew my identity, they'd still want to try. So, I'm still not as good as Cao Ci. If their opponent were Cao Ci, no matter how high their spirits were, no matter how confident they were in their martial arts attainments and foundation, they wouldn't see no one before them. It would be like standing in front of a mountain or a city wall. They would only seek to spar, not hope to win."
Ning Yao asked again, "What about Pei Qian at the ninth stage?"
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment. "Setting aside the master-disciple relationship, three to five punches to decide, ten punches to determine life or death."
"What if Song Changjing wanted to spar with you?"
"Right now, I'd definitely lose. As for how I'd lose, I can't say without fighting."
Chen Ping'an suddenly said, "Two out-of-towners from North Juque Continent have arrived."
Both were people Chen Ping'an knew of, but they didn't know him. They were powerful figures.
From North Juque Continent: a female martial artist, Embroiderer. And that male cultivator who had once fought her on Thousandstone Mountain.
Ning Yao looked at the man and said, "This person, at his previous two immortal stages, tried to grasp too much and ended up with a mess. He's broad but shallow. His limits are set. Even if he breaks through to the Jade Pu realm, he'll face significant bottlenecks afterward."
Chen Ping'an tucked his hands into his sleeves, holding the wine gourd to his chest, and said softly, "He's a rogue cultivator. There's no helping it. He has to take whatever Heaven gives him, afraid to miss even a bit."
People like Song Xu and Han Zhoujin were extraordinarily lucky in their cultivation. They were even more extreme than the direct disciples of sect ancestral halls. Their talent, aptitude, and comprehension were already top-notch. Every Qi refiner's refinement of the five-element fundamental objects and the opening of their subsidiary "Crown Prince's Mountain" vital mansions were extremely meticulous, tailored to each individual's life pattern. Each had unique talents. They all possessed supernatural abilities that defied common sense, and each carried immortal treasures. Moreover, the Dao teachers imparting knowledge were all peak-realm experts. Guiding them from a high vantage point, naturally, their cultivation was twice as effective with half the effort. Ordinary registered immortal masters would only dare to say they took fewer detours. But this group of cultivation geniuses carefully nurtured by Great Li had taken no detours at all. Tempered by dangerous battles, their Dao hearts were polished to near perfection. Whether in one-on-one fights or joint assassination missions, they were experienced, acting maturely with steadfast Dao hearts.
As long as they steadily climbed, step by step, to the upper fifth realm, on Bottle Gourd Continent's mountain realm, they would each shine brilliantly.
Once the last member was filled to make twelve, within a hundred years, they would be like a walking replica of the White Jade Capital of Great Li. They might even have a chance to wear down a flying ascension realm great cultivator to death—of course, a flying ascension cultivator like Nan Guangzhao. As for a flying ascension cultivator with the Dao name "Qingmi," even if the Earthly Branch lineage could win, killing him would be hard.
In some ways, Chen Ping'an's appearance and his three consecutive battles were more like "filling a vacancy," helping the Earthly Branch cultivators repair the last flaws in their Dao hearts.
Chen Ping'an pointed to the sachet hanging at Zhou Haijing's waist and explained, "This sachet is probably her own item, unrelated to business. According to the customs of the fishing people in her vassal state, when a woman wears a silk sachet embroidered with a swallow pattern—a 'Flower Season' sachet—it means she has married and carries it to show that her heart and body belong to someone."
Ning Yao nodded. "That's an interesting custom."
Chen Ping'an said quietly, "I was actually thinking that someday, after I've traveled through the Central Continent Divine Land and the Dark Green Heaven, I would write a book similar to *Supplementary Records of Mountains and Seas*, introducing the customs and traditions of various places in detail, writing it in several million words. A great work, not for the mountain realm but specifically for the common people's market. I could mix in some hearsay mountain and water stories. It might sell better than any monster story. Small profits, quick turnover, steady income."
Ning Yao pointed her chin at the heavily made-up female martial artist. "You two could go into business together."
Chen Ping'an laughed. "I'll pass. I don't even care much for watching this contest."
He shifted his position, adjusted the Sword-Nurturing Gourd at his waist, leaned back, and rested his head on Ning Yao's lap. "Tell me when it's over. I'll take you to eat out."
He closed his eyes and actually began to doze off, falling asleep.
Song Jixin, having left the secondary capital's princely mansion, first made a trip to the imitation White Jade Capital.
Afterward, the secondary capital sent flying-sword messages to the Great Li palace and the Ministry of Rites, respectively. Then Song Jixin boarded a border army ferry and headed for the capital.
According to Great Li law, a vassal king entering the capital was no trivial matter. And since Song Mu held the most power among the vassal kings, there were even more restrictions. Moreover, nowadays, the secondary capital and the main capital had an implicit north-south standoff.
During the ferry's northward journey, he received a letter from the Great Li Emperor, ordering Song Mu to lead several mountain-carrying ferries to the Barren Wasteland Heaven and reunite with the Imperial Uncle.
In essence, this secret decree meant only one thing: Song Mu was not to enter the capital without authorization.
After receiving this secret letter, Song Jixin acted as if he hadn't seen it, continuing north to the capital. While Vassal King Song Mu was not to enter the capital, as a son, he had to make this trip, even if it meant completely breaking with Chen Ping'an, to prevent the worst outcome.
Standing beside him was his maidservant Zhigui. She asked, "Is it really necessary? Before you even fall out with Chen Ping'an, you might become enemies with the Emperor."
Song Jixin nodded, his eyes resolute. "Some things leave one no choice."
In the Dark Green Heaven, the Great Profound Capital Observatory.
A young Daoist wearing a lotus crown was clinging to the outside wall, his head poking over, feet dangling, craning his neck to look inside.
An old Daoist appeared on the wall, chuckling. "Stop looking. There's no shit to eat. If you really want some, I can take you to get some fresh? There are still little acolytes just beginning their cultivation, so the observatory does have latrines. I wonder if they'll be enough for you, our guest."
The old Daoist was the observatory's chief, Sun Huaizhong. The young Daoist was the Third Teachings Master of the White Jade Capital, Lu Chen.
The old observatory master and the Third Teachings Master—their meetings were always this transcendent and ethereal.
Sun asked, "Since you're not busy with important matters, what are you here for?"
Lu Chen grinned cheekily. "Guess?"
Sun said seriously, "I won't guess."
Lu Chen said, "I noticed quite a commotion over here, so I hurried over to congratulate Bai Ye and the old observatory master."
Sun frowned. "Haven't you been to the Heaven Beyond the Heavens? Yu Dou is dead! Don't you care?"
Lu Chen just grinned and said nothing.
Sun stroked his beard and smiled. "Since that's the case, we're even. The Profound Capital Observatory and the White Jade Capital don't need to congratulate each other."
The female Daoist Chunhui, the gatekeeper of the observatory, only now detected the presence of the Third Teaching Master. She walked out of the observatory into the street and said sternly, "Get down!"
Lu Chen turned his head. "I don't want to."
Sun indicated telepathically that she should ignore this sticky candy that had been dipped in dog shit.
Lu Chen sighed with emotion. "Just nurturing the first flying sword, and already with such presence—unprecedented in ten thousand years. Truly Bai Ye."
Sun said with a big grin, "You could do it too. With the brotherly bond we share, if you're willing to scatter your Dao, I'll make an exception and shamelessly go to the White Jade Capital to protect your Dao. With your talent, brother Lu, reincarnating as a sword cultivator would be a snap. Then heaven's thunder would roar, audible across several heavens, maybe even scare Zhou Mi to death."
"No, no. Not necessary."
"Try it, try it."
"Let it be, let it be."
"Where's the heroic spirit? Where has my bold, unparalleled brother Lu gone?"
"Ptooey, ptooey. Not dead, not dead. It's all fine, all fine."
"Chunhui, come quick! Some bastard is spitting into the observatory! Kill him!"
"Elder Sister Chunhui, don't come, don't come! I'll take that spit back!"
A sword light flashed, but Lu Chen casually swept it into his sleeve, shook his sleeve, and laughed. "It's almost like a token of love... Here it comes again! And again..."
The old Daoist told the female Daoist to go back. Lu Chen continued to hang on the wall, laughing. "Have you thought of a name for Bai Ye's flying sword? Do you want me to help?"
Sun shook his head. "Don't make small talk when there's nothing to say."
Today, if he weren't idle anyway—since scolding Lu Chen cost nothing—he wouldn't have come to see this fellow.
Lu Chen asked with a smile, "Elder Brother Sun, there's one thing I've never understood. What were you thinking back then, giving away the Supreme Luminosity Sword just like that? Do you really not care about the fourteenth realm?"
Actually, in the early years, Second Brother Yu Dou had already prepared to leave the White Jade Capital for a battle. It was very likely that he would have had to go to the heavens beyond with this old observatory master to fight to the death.
Sun let out a scornful laugh.
Lu Chen clasped his fists and took his leave.
Old Observatory Master Sun Huaizhong was the leader of the Daoist sword immortal lineage. He was both a Daoist and a flying-ascension-realm peak sword cultivator.
Bai Ye was the proudest man in the human world of the Haoran Heaven. He once held the Supreme Luminosity Sword and opened the Yellow River Cave Heaven, but in fact, he was not a sword cultivator.
Now, Bai Ye had finally become a sword cultivator in the true sense.
The ruins of the Sword Qi Great Wall.
A sword cultivator's lifelong obsession: without dreams, he ascends the wall top here.
Always solitary, Zuo You now seemed to have two followers: Wei Jin, an immortal-realm sword cultivator, and Cao Jun, a Nascent Soul bottleneck sword cultivator.
The three of them were on the wall, separated by a distance, each cultivating on their own.
The large and small thatched huts on the wall had long since disappeared, but no one seemed to want to restore them.
More and more Haoran cultivators came here to journey.
Everyone had been warned by their sect elders—repeatedly—so no one dared approach those three sword cultivators. In truth, they just didn't dare approach Zuo You.
The senior sword immortal had given Wei Jin a sword manual earlier, as if waiting for him to return to the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Inside Cao Jun's heart lake, formerly withered lotuses filled the lake; now there were myriad green lotuses.
During his sword training breaks, Cao Jun would often borrow mountain and water gazettes from the Central Continent Divine Land from the Confucian sages stationed here to pass the time.
Today, Cao Jun chatted with the great sword immortal of the Snow Wind Temple: "If I had come here earlier to practice swordsmanship, with my talent, how many opportunities could I have obtained?"
Wei Jin drank his wine. "Talent is secondary; what matters more is alignment of the heart."
In Cao Jun's view, getting a sword manual here and then, after returning home, practicing with it—the great sword immortal, the number one swordsman of Bottle Gourd Continent—had almost trained himself into cultivation regression. Wei Jin was quite a character.
According to Mr. Zuo, Wei Jin's study of the sword manual was essentially a sword contest. If it were Cao Jun flipping through that sword manual, it would be harmless, because he wouldn't understand it or learn it. He wasn't even qualified for the contest.
Cao Jun had been puzzled at the time: Didn't Mr. Zuo want to learn an extra sword technique?
Zuo You's answer was simple: the sword manual's rank was very high, but he didn't need it.
Today, Zuo You suddenly stood up, squinting into the distance.
Far to the south.
A Liang, dragging the rogue cultivator Qingmi, had already gone deep into the heartland of the Barren Wasteland Heaven, yet not a single fight had occurred from start to finish.
Suddenly, one day, A Liang said, "Feng Xuetao, you can go back."
Feng Xuetao said nothing. Before, he had been unwillingly dragged here. Not only did he not want to go, but if he could run away, he would have long since run back to hide in the Haoran Heaven. Now, he didn't really want to follow A Liang to do anything like carving through the Barren Wasteland. He just wasn't as eager to leave anymore. As long as his life was safe, he would go a few more steps south.
Even if he lost one realm, as long as he could return to the Haoran Heaven alive, it seemed fine.
A Liang let out a "pfft," not wasting it—he spat into his own palm and smoothed his hair back over his forehead and temples. "Not leaving? Damn, you've gotten addicted to freeloading? Get lost! Stop dragging me down here."
Feng Xuetao said, "At least I'm a flying ascension realm cultivator. Self-preservation shouldn't be too hard, right?"
A Liang's expression turned serious. He shook his head. "You're wrong. Your enemy isn't the great demons of the Barren Wasteland Heaven. It's me. So it will be very difficult."
Feng Xuetao was dumbfounded.
A Liang looked around. "In a bit, when I go all out with my sword, I won't be able to control myself. I'm worried I might accidentally hit you. That's not just slowing me down—it's worse. Get the hell out of here."
One south, one north—two sword cultivators of the Haoran Heaven.
The highest sword Dao in the world: A Liang.
The highest sword technique in the world: Zuo You.
They were about to swing their swords together.