Chapter 848: Fellow Daoist, Who Are You Looking For?

Chapter 848: Fellow Daoist, Who Are You Looking For?

Two old acquaintances whose ages were vastly different yet whose fates were deeply intertwined were now both squatting on the city wall, and in identical fashion—hunched shoulders, hands tucked into sleeves—they gazed together at the battlefield ruins to the south.

Lu Chen turned his head to look at the young man beside him and chuckled. "If the two of us were to imitate that old Senior Yang right now, each holding a tobacco pipe, puffing out clouds of smoke, that would make it even more delightful. Ascending the city wall, seeing off a myriad miles, facing the world in vain, freely dispersing our sorrows."

The old man in the backyard of the Yang Family Medicine Shop had once mocked the Three Teaching Patriarchs as the biggest *pi xiu* between heaven and earth, creatures that only ate and never excreted.

But what Chen Ping'an saw in his eyes was sparse vegetation, trembling with sword qi, as if he beheld white bones piled into hills, sword qi surging to the Ox-Dipper constellations—a sword cultivator on the battlefield, hair disheveled and body drenched in blood, who had once lain drunk in a corridor, leaning against a brazier, holding a goblet of wine, an immortal sword immortal and a renowned scholar both equally romantic. It was as if he saw the precursor of sorrow in the Summer Retreat Palace, taking the first step forward and never returning; as if he saw Gao Kui's first sword in this life learned from his patriarch, so his last sword should ask the patriarch, the Dragon Lord; there was the female sword immortal Zhou Cheng, the old sword cultivator Yin Chen, who had long harbored a death wish; there was Tao Wen on the battlefield who could only find release through death; and there were one young sword cultivator after another, in the prime of their youth, their backs to the city wall, facing south, sending forth their swords in life and stopping their swords in death…

Lu Chen looked at this young Hidden Official whose face bore no trace of distress and sighed in admiration. "Chen Ping'an, at such a young age you hold a high position and have rendered unparalleled merit for the Confucian Temple—who would believe it? To be honest, if back in the little town someone had told me early on that this day would come, I wouldn't have believed it even if you beat me to death."

In the Lizhu Cave Heaven, Lu Chen had once brought He Xiaoliang, his direct disciple from the Turned Head Sect, to meet many different "Chen Ping'ans." There was a Chen Ping'an who, through diligence and honesty, became the man of a well-to-do household, repairing the ancestral home and even purchasing properties in the prefectural city, only returning to the hometown during the Qingming Festival and the New Year to visit graves with his entire family. There was a Chen Ping'an who, thanks to a resourceful mind, became a small shopkeeper with modest property. There was a Chen Ping'an who went back to being an apprentice potter, his skills becoming increasingly proficient until he finally became a dragon kiln master. And there was a Chen Ping'an who turned into a good-for-nothing wastrel, idle all year round, with a kind heart but no ability to do good deeds, year after year becoming a joke among the townsfolk. There was also a Chen Ping'an who took the imperial examinations, only scraping by with a *juren* degree, becoming a teacher at a private school, never marrying in his life, the farthest places he ever went being the prefectural seat and the Red Candle Town, often standing alone at the mouth of an alley, staring blankly at the sky.

Lu Chen actually began to heat wine, busying himself, looking down and chuckling. "When snow is about to fall, it's best to have a cup. After all, every 'today' self is no longer the 'yesterday' self."

Chen Ping'an smiled. "I'm not the Lu Sect Leader. What's this about 'holding up the sky and setting up the sea'? It sounds terrifying, something I wouldn't dare even think about. It's just an old saying from home: diligence can overcome poverty, caution can overcome calamity. You have surplus year after year, so every New Year's you can get by without much hardship, without having to endure bitter suffering."

Lu Chen nodded. "The town's folk are simple and honest; the local customs and old sayings are many—I've experienced that and benefited a lot from it. If I hadn't spent only a short time setting up a stall in your hometown, learning just the surface of it, then back in the Qingming Heaven, every time I went to visit Senior Sun at the Great Profound Capital Observatory, who would be teaching whom a lesson in life would still be an open question."

Whether it was because Lu Chen's words hit the mark, or because this Third Sect Leader of the White Jade Capital actually used his divine powers, it truly began to snow—and it was a genuine heavy snow, snowflakes as large as hands. Some of the wandering visitors from the Hao Ran World on the city wall with Wei Jin and Cao Jun naturally felt pleasantly surprised. During the heavy snow season, the scenery became even more uniquely magnificent—vast lands, sparse population, high winds and cold, with light snow sealing the mountains and heavy snow sealing the rivers.

Busy heating wine, Lu Chen sighed for no apparent reason. "When you're away from home, walk steadily, eat slowly, speak well. Be kind to others, be harmonious, and wealth will come naturally. Making noise, fighting, and killing—it's truly meaningless. Chen Ping'an, don't you think so?"

Chen Ping'an nodded with a smile. "At this time, in this place, with these words, it sounds especially reasonable."

By his side was Ning Yao. By Lu Chen's side stood the Executioner Hao Su.

Moreover, Qi Tingji and Lu Zhi hadn't left the city wall yet.

All four were people of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Only this fellow, whose hometown was the Hao Ran World but had gone to the Qingming Heaven to become the Third Sect Leader of the White Jade Capital, was an outsider not particularly welcome.

So before Lu Chen said these words to Chen Ping'an, he secretly sent a thought to Hao Su: "Executioner Hao, if the Hidden Official asks you to chop me down, would you do it?"

Hao Su answered without hesitation: "Elsewhere, what Chen Ping'an says doesn't carry much weight. But here, I would seriously consider it."

Actually, Lu Chen disliked matters of mountain-top duels the most, unless absolutely necessary. For instance, when he traveled through the Lizhu Cave Heaven, or when he went to the Outer Heavens to contend with those endless alien demons. If it hadn't been for the need to protect his senior brother's path, forcing him to return to his hometown in the Hao Ran World once more, he wouldn't have cared whether Qi Jingchun could establish a sect and become a patriarch. Having one more or one less in the human world didn't matter; heaven and earth were still that same heaven and earth, the world was still that same world—what did it have to do with him?

But lazy as Lu Chen was, he still had people he admired. For example, Wu Shuangjiang of the Suichu Palace, for his obsessive love and stubbornness. Senior Sun lent the Immortal Sword Taibai to Bai Ye—in truth, it was more like giving it away—a kind of chivalrous freedom. Sun Huaizhong, as the firmly established fifth-ranked figure of the Qingming Heaven and the leader of the Daoist Sword Immortal lineage—once the old Observatory Master held Taibai and stepped into the Fourteen Realm, Lu Chen's true invincible second senior brother would have to steel himself for a good fight.

As for the Grand Old Sword Immortal Chen Qingdu, exchanging his own lack of freedom here for the great freedom of the Sword Qi Great Wall in the Five Colors Heaven for the next thousand or ten thousand years—wasn't that also a kind of great freedom of the human heart?

And Chen Ping'an, as the Hidden Official, merging his Dao with half of the Sword Qi Great Wall—though his body was not his own, his heart did not retreat.

Lu Chen's only regret was that Chen Ping'an had not personally killed a Great Demon at the Ascension Realm and carved words on the city wall. Whatever words Chen Ping'an might carve, just considering the brushstrokes and divine intent, Lu Chen felt that merely to see those carvings would be worth sneaking away from the White Jade Capital from time to time.

Lu Chen handed a bowl of wine to Chen Ping'an. "Judging by the momentum you showed earlier in your seated discussion, reaching the Immortal Realm is within reach, very much within reach—congratulations and celebrations. Let me offer my congratulations here ahead of time. As for the congratulatory gift, I'll owe it to you for a few years. When you come to the Qingming Heaven later, feel free to come and demand it. I'll have to scrape together the resources from a few well-known city towers in the White Jade Capital."

Chen Ping'an seemed completely without caution, directly taking the wine bowl and drinking. Lu Chen raised his arm high and handed another bowl to Hao Su, who was standing beside him. Both the Hidden Official and the Executioner of the Sword Qi Great Wall accepted it. Lu Chen leaned forward and asked, "Miss Ning, would you like a bowl too? It's a rare immortal brew exclusive to the Green Emerald City of the White Jade Capital. I barely managed to beg it off Jiang Yunsheng, who just became the city lord. Jiang Yunsheng is that little Daoist apprentice who used to guard the gate with the Great Sword Immortal Zhang Lu. That little brat has made good now and dares to look down on me—always going on about business being business."

Ning Yao said, "No need."

Lu Chen didn't dare press the matter. Many old Daoists of the White Jade Capital were now worried that the Five Colors Heaven, along with the various Daoist forces of the Qingming Heaven, might one day be expelled by Ning Yao alone, sword in hand.

Chen Ping'an took a sip of the wine and asked, "The Prayer for Rain Stele by the side of the River Deity Temple of the Buried River—the Dao formula content—which of the Five Cities and Twelve Towers of the White Jade Capital does it come from?"

The predecessor of the Buried River's Bibo Palace was a dragon palace of a great river in the Tongye Continent, but due to its immense antiquity, even Jiang Shangzhen's Jade Gui Sect had no records to consult. Only in the local lore of the Great Spring Dynasty were some unreliable tales of monsters and legends left behind. Back then, Zhong Kui hadn't been able to explain it properly, and the Dafu Academy had no archives.

Lu Chen wiped the corner of his mouth, gently shook the wine bowl, and said offhandedly, "Oh, you mean that jade slip with the over five-thousand-character Dao formula? It transforms the four heavens' chill, sweeping away the world's heat—I know about it. To be honest, it does have a trivial connection with me, as small as a sesame seed or a mung bean. Rest assured, there's no long-term scheme behind it. It's not targeted at anyone. Whoever is fated to obtain it obtains it. That's all."

Chen Ping'an asked, "Do you want me to pass it on to Chen Lingjun?"

This was precisely the real reason Chen Ping'an had delayed teaching this Dao formula all along. He would rather teach it to the flood dragon Hong Xia in the future than dare to involve Chen Lingjun.

Lu Chen sighed and didn't give a direct answer. "I reckon that fellow doesn't want to go to the Qingming Heaven anymore. Oh well, when it rains, the sky does as it pleases; when a girl wants to marry, she does as she pleases. Let him be."

Chen Ping'an asked curiously, "What exactly is the relationship between Chen Lingjun and that Dragon Maiden that warrants your taking such an interest?"

Lu Chen rolled his eyes. "You have many connections. Find out for yourself. Isn't there that Aunt Feng in the Great Li Capital? Your true body is not far from the Fire Deity Temple anyway. On the way, you might even be able to trick away a few jars of Hundred Flowers Brew."

Aunt Feng, besides sweeping through the Hundred Flowers Blessed Land, was also associated with a story of wormwood burning a dragon maiden's forehead—a kind of Dao protection for that dragon maiden. The escape route of the last true dragon in the world, seemingly fleeing in panic, took the initiative to land on the shores of the Bottle Gourd Continent, not only to seek out Old Man Yang's Ascension Platform but also to hope that Aunt Feng, whose Dao was compatible with "wind rising and water surging," could help mediate and say a few good words. Otherwise, Old Man Yang, a Celestial Lord of the Green Youth whose divine office was that of earthly immortals of the male line, had no reason to care about the life or death of a true dragon. Moreover, in the eyes of the vast majority of ancient divine remnants, those dragon-kind who were in charge of the circulation of water fortunes were all rebels.

Chen Ping'an asked again, "Saying that he is inherently close to water—was it a natural endowment before his destiny porcelain was shattered, making him an earthly immortal by birth, or is there some other mystery, something acquired and shaped?"

Lu Chen laughed in exasperation. "Chen Ping'an, can you stop trying to fleece me dry? Can't we just drink and catch up on old times?"

Chen Ping'an twitched the corner of his mouth. "Then how about you stop using that trick of severed yet connected divine powers, spying on the little town and Fallen Mountain through Shi Rou."

Lu Chen said with a slightly embarrassed look, "Didn't Cui Dongshan cut off the trail already? Bringing up old scores is no fun. Besides, I was just bored—I wouldn't do anything."

Chen Ping'an asked, "Have you seen Lu Tai?"

Lu Chen nodded. "The Lotus Flower Blessed Land was split into four parts. He occupies one of them. His Dao cultivation is smooth, he's carefree—more of a 'supreme emperor' than that Ding Ying back in the day. In a place called Hibiscus Mountain, a blessed spot of *feng shui*, he keeps a dog. But Lu Tai's *yin spirit* traveled far away and stayed in the Qingming Heaven, setting up a tavern near the fish market with a young girl—business is booming. Other taverns and inns mostly have charming middle-aged landlady who attract the bees and butterflies, but his tavern is different—every day it's a bevy of beauties, all women who come for him."

Chen Ping'an handed over an empty bowl and said, "That dog must have a good name."

Lu Chen took the bowl, refilled it, and handed it back to Chen Ping'an, laughing. "Isn't that true."

Chen Ping'an asked, "Before Master Qi and Master Ruan, who were the saints of Buddhism and Daoism stationed in the Lizhu Cave Heaven?"

Lu Chen said, "Are you going to keep this up?"

Chen Ping'an said, "If you don't want to answer this question, then answer the one before."

Lu Chen hesitated for a moment, probably as a Daoist unwilling to get too entangled with Buddhism. "Do you still remember that effeminate potter who liked to secretly buy cosmetics? He muddled through his whole life, never once living with his back straight, and in the end was hastily buried?"

Chen Ping'an nodded, frowning. "I remember. He was the uncle of Su Dian, the female martial artist from the Yang Family Medicine Shop. What does that have to do with me being inherently close to water?"

He had heard from Liu Xianyang that Su Dian of the medicine shop, whose childhood name was Rouge, seemed to have some inexplicable hostility toward him, Chen Ping'an. In her boxing practice, she always wanted to surpass him. Chen Ping'an was completely baffled but too lazy to dig deeper. After all, she was Old Man Yang's disciple, of the same generation as Li Er and Zheng Dafeng.

Lu Chen laughed. "As for the past life of that pitiful man, you can ask Li Liu yourself. As for other things, I'm not clear about them. Back when I set up a fortune-telling stall in the town, there were rules. Aside from you younger generation, I wasn't allowed to casually trace anyone's origins."

Chen Ping'an looked down at his wine, eyes lifting, still worried about that battlefield.

An extra Executioner Hao Su had appeared out of nowhere. In fact, with Qi Tingji and Lu Zhi, they could easily have gone on a long journey together. But who knew if this was one of Lu Chen's schemes? The fear was that a single move might affect the whole, completely disrupting the Confucian Temple's arrangements.

Lu Chen sighed with emotion. "There are always some things that leave you helpless, just staring blankly. Meddle, and unexpected trouble arises; don't help, and your conscience won't let you rest easy."

Chen Ping'an withdrew his gaze. "So we ordinary mortals are all inferior to the Sect Leader Lu's carefree wandering—an unmoored boat, without ties or worries."

Lu Chen grinned. "The Lu Chen of today and tomorrow naturally has some carefreeness. But the Lu Chen of yesterday, the petty official of the Qi Garden, once had to borrow money from river channel officials—just like you, poor and down-and-out. Long, long, often hard to fulfill one's wishes; each moment, each affair, not free. But luckily, I'm a person who takes things lightly, skilled at finding pleasure in hardship, and delighting in it. So every tomorrow of mine is worth looking forward to."

Chen Ping'an said, "I need to learn more about cultivating the heart from you, Daoist Lu."

"When it comes to cultivating the heart, don't learn from me." Lu Chen waved his hand. He recalled something and said, "Bai Ye has already become a sword cultivator. The aura is immense, spectacular enough to move heaven and earth. Even my master said, 'The arrival of a sword immortal adds a breath of Dao.'"

Chen Ping'an nodded. "I heard from my teacher."

Lu Chen had a look of sincere mutual admiration. "Actually, when it comes to naming things, the two of us are top-notch hands. Unfortunately, I brought dozens of flying sword names and hurried to the Great Profound Capital Observatory. Senior Sun was very hospitable—he came running from the latrine, holding up his belt."

Chen Ping'an asked, "Is there any chance Senior Sun can step into the Fourteen Realm?"

Lu Chen shook his head. "Every Ascension Realm cultivator has the potential to merge with the Dao. But the more perfect the realm and the higher the cultivation, the greater the bottleneck. It's a paradox."

Chen Ping'an said nothing, silent. When he spent time with certain people, he always had some illusions. The first time, meeting A Liang, he initially felt like he'd run into a con artist, talking recklessly every day, feeling that a single disagreeable word might cause Zhu He to knock him out with one punch.

On the night boat, after the great battle, Wu Shuangjiang sat at the same table, refined and elegant.

At the Panshui Ferry, Zheng Juzhong, this titan of demonic cultivation, was overflowing with scholarly spirit.

And then there was this Lu Chen, the earliest acquaintance of all.

Chen Ping'an never knew what Lu Chen was thinking or what he would do, because there was no thread to follow.

Lu Chen sighed. "The Grand Old Sword Immortal's vision was truly good."

Everyone thought the youth of yesteryear was too gloomy and overly cautious.

Only Chen Qingdu felt that the foreign youth he saw was spirited and full of vitality.

Lu Chen voluntarily brought up that group of sword cultivators who had traveled to the Qingming Heaven. "Those two friends of yours, Dong Heitan stayed in the Divine Thunder City, but he's stubborn and refuses to be registered in the White Jade Capital's Daoist official records. Yan the Fatty went to Senior Sun's Great Profound Capital Observatory. They're all doing well."

The old Nascent Soul Cheng Quan led the group, a total of sixteen sword cultivators, who ascended with the Inverted Mountain to the Qingming Heaven, eventually scattering in different directions. Nine of them chose to stay in the White Jade Capital to cultivate their swords. Unexpectedly, Cheng Quan took refuge in Wu Shuangjiang's Suichu Palace, even entering the sect's registry as a guest elder. Because the old sword cultivator was entrusted with a secret mission, he placed the sword case wrapped in cotton cloth on the Dragon Rest Stone outside the Crane Tower.

"Chen Ping'an, do you know what true mountain-moving arts and sea-moving divine powers are?"

"I await the Sect Leader Lu's generous instruction."

"In my view, you have long been proficient in this. Like a house with two rooms, someone is constantly moving things back and forth—practice makes perfect, and you're getting better and better at it."

"The Sect Leader Lu's words are profound. I don't quite understand."

"You'll understand soon enough. Any wonderful thing does not exist as a solitary flower."

After that, the two no longer spoke, each simply drinking his wine.

Chen Ping'an was thinking about how to conceal his identity if he really went to the Qingming Heaven in the future.

Lu Chen was looking forward to the excitement when Chen Ping'an finally arrived in the Qingming Heaven.

Several of the direct sword children of the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect had earlier followed Qi Tingji and Lu Zhi away from the two docks, but their sword-flying forms lagged far behind. Escorted by Shao Yunyan and the Tipsy-Faced Woman, they now flew over to the city wall and landed on another section. Chen Ping'an glanced at them from a distance and nodded to Shao Yunyan. He recognized most of the sword children, having seen a few at the Parrot Island dock. That girl with a ponytail was Wu Manyan, the one with the best talent for sword training among the eighteen sword children. Beside the girl was He Qiusheng, a peer who had once boasted he would challenge Chen Ping'an to a sword duel.

The Tipsy-Faced Woman stood next to Lu Zhi. She still felt uneasy, so she moved to hide behind Lu Zhi, as far away from that Daoist as possible. She spoke timidly through mental communication: "Is that person a Daoist?"

Lu Zhi nodded. "We might end up fighting. Just run as fast as you can when it happens."

Qi Tingji laughed. "It won't come to that."

Lu Zhi looked clearly disappointed.

Cao Jun, who had provisionally secured a guest elder position at Fallen Mountain's sub-sect, had been watching the young Daoist with the lotus crown earlier. To dodge a sword light, he scurried around wildly and couldn't help asking Wei Jin, "Now there's another Daoist? Where did he pop out from? He looks really high in realm. Could it be that he's also some convenience uncle of Chen Ping'an's?"

Wei Jin said, "That's the Third Sect Leader of the White Jade Capital. I heard that in the Lizhu Cave Heaven, he used to set up a fortune-telling stall for a few years. He's an old acquaintance of Chen Ping'an and many other young people. Back then, you returned to town late, so you missed out."

Cao Jun immediately withdrew his gaze, not daring to look again. He was silent for a moment, then said, "If I had grown up in that town, with my talent for cultivation, I would have gone far."

Wei Jin shook his head. "Talent? Don't even talk about that in the Lizhu Cave Heaven. With your temper, if you had run into these hidden masters early on, you'd be lucky to even become a sword cultivator. Best case? You'd be a potter in the cave heaven, a farmer, or a woodcutter burning charcoal—obscure your whole life. Worse luck, even if you did become a sword cultivator, you'd fall into a trap without realizing it."

Cao Jun said, "That's not right. I remember a few brats and hotheads in the town who were even more reckless than me, acting without thinking. Now they're all doing fine, aren't they?"

Wei Jin said, "Those people's words and actions came from their true hearts. The masters naturally didn't mind; they might even have given them a push. With you, it's different—you like to show off cleverness. If you had fallen into the Sect Leader Lu's hands, he might have been happy to teach you a lesson."

Cao Jun was about to retort when Lu Chen's voice suddenly echoed in his heart like a thought: "Sword Immortal Cao, daring and bold, challenging someone to a duel in Mud Vase Alley. Hearing about it afterward was enough to make my heart pound. A bold young talent like you would be more than qualified to be a city lord or tower lord of the Five Cities and Twelve Towers of the White Jade Capital—a waste of talent! How about it? Let me give you a ride on my path, and we'll travel together to the Qingming Heaven?"

Cao Jun was so startled that his Dao heart wavered. His voice trembled as he answered, "I wouldn't dare trouble the Sect Leader Lu."

On Lu Zhi's side, Lu Chen's thoughts came with a laugh: "Lu Zhi, there's a reason A Liang can't stop thinking about you. No wonder the name is true to the reputation."

Lu Zhi replied, "Don't think that because we share the surname Lu, we're in any way related. We have nothing to do with each other. If you want a beating, just say so—no need to beat around the bush."

Lu Chen stood up, looked up at the sky, and murmured, "The Great Way is like the blue sky—I alone cannot emerge. Bai Ye's poem perfectly captures the difficulty of our path."

Chen Ping'an looked up and said calmly, "Heaven has no four walls; men walk on bird paths. The blue sky is a great road, but straw sandals wear out the feet."

At the Rain Dragon Sect dock, Chen Sanqiu and Diezhang had already left the ferry and were on their way to the Sword Qi Great Wall. Previously, they had left their hometown together, traveling successively through the Central Plains Divine Continent, Southern Bodhisattva Continent, and Flowing Cloud Continent.

The guest elder of the Roaming Immortal Pavilion, Jia Xuan, on the Tai Geng ferry, had privately warned that young man who still bore resentment—both a lesson from an elder and a warning—not to take a Golden Core Earth Immortal too seriously, nor to take one too lightly.

Yun Qian, the acting sect leader of the Rain Dragon Sect, was still waiting for Nalan Caihuan to show up and settle accounts. At the same time, she hoped that one day she would find that young Hidden Official and thank him in person.

Over the little town, Chen Lingjun saw three strangers. Weighing things up, Old Brother Jia from Riding Dragon Lane was also in the Daoist sect, so he went first to find that little Daoist boy riding an ox—he looked young.

Chen Lingjun was afraid his cloud-riding might frighten the little Daoist boy, so he pinched a hand seal to suppress the water vapor and clouds, landing outside the town. He swaggered up to catch up with the man and ox, laughing. "Fellow Daoist, go slowly."

The boy-like youth turned his head and asked with a smile, "Something on your mind?"

After a brief thought, he had already learned the Bottle Gourd Continent's elegant speech, which was the official language of the Great Li Dynasty.

Chen Lingjun craned his neck and asked, "Fellow Daoist, you look unfamiliar. Are you here in Huaihuang County to enter the mountains and seek immortals, or to visit?"

What he really wanted to ask was whether the fellow looked tender, how old he might be. But that wasn't proper in the martial world.

The young Daoist boy said, "A passerby."

Chen Lingjun cut straight to the point, speaking through mental communication: "Fellow Daoist, could it be that you're a legendary Ascension Realm grandmaster?"

He might as well go all out with the exaggeration. If it really was a hidden powerhouse, his question would be like a child's nonsense—surely they wouldn't bother to haggle over it.

The young man turned sideways, sitting on the ox's back, facing Chen Lingjun, and shook his head. "Naturally not."

Chen Lingjun cautiously asked, "Then are you like that Sect Leader Lu of the White Jade Capital?"

Once bitten, twice shy. How else did Grandpa Chen enjoy his good life in the Northern March territory? By remembering lessons—using his brain.

The young man shook his head again.

Chen Lingjun breathed a sigh of relief. Alright—if this guy wasn't riding an ox, they could be arm-in-arm.

Chen Lingjun chuckled to himself. "Zhuangzi dreaming of a butterfly is but ordinary talent, haha—that appraisal is good."

The young Daoist boy smiled dismissively and asked, "Now who is the saint in charge of the Lizhu Cave Heaven?"

Whoa, big talk. Had he been drinking before entering town? Then he's a kindred spirit—half a fellow traveler. I like that.

Chen Lingjun waved his sleeves and laughed heartily. "The military saint Ruan Qiong, the first sword forger of our Bottle Gourd Continent, and now the founding patriarch of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect. I'm very familiar with him—just need to call him Master Ruan. We're practically sworn brothers."

The young man asked, "A military saint? From the Snowstorm Temple or the True Martial Mountain?"

No need to deduce and derive the Dao for such a small matter.

Chen Lingjun couldn't help glancing at the green ox—poor thing. It'd been ridden a long way by its unreliable master, who was a foreigner from another continent. Chen Lingjun wanted to pat its horn.

The young Daoist boy waved his hand and chuckled. "Don't touch, don't touch. My good friend here has a temper. Not too good."

Chen Lingjun withdrew his hand and couldn't help but remind him, "Fellow Daoist, I'm not trying to scare you. Our little town is filled with hidden dragons and crouching tigers, unknown masters and reclusive experts everywhere. Hanging around here, putting on immortal airs and masterful postures—best not. It's no good."

Chen Lingjun then puffed out his chest. "No worries. I'll show you around, so everyone will give you some face. As long as you don't go too far in what you say or do, it'll be fine. If you do get into a conflict, just mention my name—the Little Dragon King of Fallen Mountain. I'm Chen Lingjun, my Dao name is Jingqing. Oh, and I have a friend who's in the small business of drawing Daoist scriptures, the family heirloom Five Peaks True Form Diagram—it's got some real skill. If you're short on those, I can take you to my shop and sell you a copy at cost price. If my friend makes a half a Snowflake Coin profit from you, I'll smash my own reputation."

The boy smiled and asked, "Jingqing, you like to take on so many tasks?"

Chen Lingjun sighed. "No choice about it. I was born with a warm heart and a hot temper. That's precisely why my master took me up the mountain for cultivation back then."

The Daoist boy asked, "Who is your master?"

Chen Lingjun chuckled. "Better not to say. We've met by chance—let's keep our wits about us. No need to pour out our hearts to each other. That would be too naive."

Afterwards, Chen Lingjun led the ox-riding young Daoist boy to see the Dragon Lock Well. At one point, the young man lightly patted the ox's back and stopped.

In those days, his disciple Lu Chen's fortune-telling stall was not far from the old locust tree, visible when looking up—its branches and leaves were sparse, green shade dense.

The young man looked up, and the old locust tree instantly reappeared in his eyes. But in his view, although the ancient tree was graceful, it would soon retain its form but lose its spirit, with no life remaining. However, worldly affairs were mostly like this—sun and moon race by, years like a shuttle, dust rising again in the midst of the sea.

Chen Lingjun casually asked, "Daoist boy, traveling so far—who are you looking for?"

The Dao Ancestor smiled. "The One."