# Chapter 895: Joyful Tonight
(A large chapter of 27,000 words, the update is a bit late.)
The mountain light suddenly faded, and the moon gradually rose.
The human world together lit a single lantern in the sky.
The Pei River wound its way to the sea, dense with water vapor. Along its course were sixteen boatyards of various sizes, where mountain ferry boats could dock. Commerce flourished, and around each boatyard, small towns had been built along the water, comparable in size to Huaihuang County. After nightfall, the lights were bright as day. Martial arts academies lined both banks, and numerous Jianghu halls and lodges could be found. Even in the eyes of a newly initiated geomancer apprentice, one could see that the martial aura here was extremely grand, unmatched across the entire continent.
Wu Shu had already traveled to other continents for over twenty years, and had now gone to the Barbarian Wilderness. Coupled with this Martial Saint's utter lack of interest in taking disciples—having only accepted one founding disciple so far—the only Ultimate Realm martial artist left in Tongye Continent was Ye Yunyun. This had earned Pishan a highly acclaimed evaluation.
"The continent's fist techniques exist only at Pishan."
And Pishan's Yuncao Hall was indeed worthy of this praise. Every year, following ancestral tradition, they taught fist techniques on the days of Beginning of Summer and Beginning of Winter. Apart from not teaching the secret stances of Yuncao Hall, they held nothing back, willing to impart everything to the various martial artists who came to learn. At the same time, every Pishan martial artist who descended the mountain would hold three public martial demonstrations, exchanging martial knowledge or serving as practice partners for others' fists. If an outsider of the same realm won, they would receive a full house of cheers and be invited as honored guests to Yuncao Hall.
It seemed the bright moon favored this particular stretch of water. The river surface was covered in crystalline moonlight, like a Milky Way on earth. The night was quiet, the river breeze gentle, the scenery pleasant and heart-soothing.
A pleasure boat traveling downstream had only two decks above the main deck, making it one level lower than others. Whenever passing boats brushed past, it was often a situation where others looked down while they looked up.
At an open-air tea stall on the second floor, Chen Ping'an asked a tea lady for two pots of mountain tea—one pot of Cloud Mist tea and one pot of Old Cong Narcissus tea—and she threw in some free pastries and fruits.
The ferry boat's tea lady had previously vigorously pushed the Narcissus tea, saying it was a famous rock tea from an immortal mountain in Vase Bottle Continent, extremely difficult to obtain. A century-old tea tree was called "tall," and only a thousand-year-old one could be called "old," hence the high price had its reasons. If the guest found the flavor ordinary and said so, the boat would give a fifty percent discount.
Judging by her demeanor, if one didn't order a pot of Old Cong Narcissus, they probably wouldn't get the free fruits and pastries.
Chen Ping'an smiled faintly. It was that fellow townsman Dong Bancheng causing trouble again.
Spring water, tea leaves, immortal liquor, tea and wine vessels—anything that had gained fame in Vase Bottle Continent in recent years, especially things of good quality and not low price—at least half of it was probably connected to Dong Shuijing.
The tea was, of course, good tea. Xu Yuanxia's travel notes, which hadn't yet been block-printed for publication, had specially recorded this kind of Old Cong Narcissus. The problem was that Xu Yuanxia back then could already afford Old Cong Narcissus, so one could imagine the local price of the tea leaves.
Yet just by being moved along with the cross-continental ferry, a pot of this tea here sold for two Snowflake Coins. Even if someone had the thick skin to say the tea tasted ordinary and got the fifty percent discount, wouldn't they still need to pay one Snowflake Coin?
In business, Dong Shuijing, with his natural talent, must be at least Flying Ascension Realm starting point.
Chen Ping'an took out the last Meditation-Forgetting Pill from Qinghu Palace from his sleeve and swallowed it with tea.
There was no need to doubt about follow-up pills from Qinghu Palace. Very soon, another one or two furnaces of Feather-Robe Pills would definitely be sent to Xiandu Mountain.
With Old Immortal Lu's way of handling affairs, not to mention Chen Ping'an himself, even the branch sect wouldn't worry about running out of Meditation-Forgetting Pills for the next few centuries.
In Old Immortal Lu's words, good things of one's own should naturally be given to one's own people first.
It was fine; Fallen Mountain and Qingping Peak would reciprocate the kindness. In the future, the mountain and water spiritual energy of Qingjing Mountain would only be more abundant and lush than during Qinghu Palace's most prosperous period.
After passing three more boatyards, about two hundred miles of waterway, they would reach the mountain gate of Pishan Yuncao Hall.
Pei Qian asked, "Master, regarding the matter of Pishan martial artists descending the mountain to serve as practice partners for others' fists... can our Fallen Mountain learn from this?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "Of course we can learn."
Cao Qinglang added, "The prerequisite is that the sect's conduct is very good, that the mountain martial artists have sufficient breadth of mind, and that when interacting with people down the mountain, their speech cannot be too casual. How to put it... the fist is both in the arena and outside the arena. Otherwise, even if one teaches earnestly and serves as a practice partner carefully, just one or two misstatements that cause misunderstanding will breed conflict. Not only will it ruin the reputation, but there will be endless disputes and making enemies everywhere. Within a few decades, one will be isolated by the Jianghu. At that point, even if we act out of good intentions, we'll end up being slandered. No one can tolerate that. After a few rounds, one side will despise the other for being ungrateful, the other side will feel the first is arrogant, and they'll dislike each other."
Pei Qian said, "Isn't our family's conduct good enough?"
Cao Qinglang smiled. "Forewarned is forearmed, without preparation one will fail."
Chen Ping'an took a sip of tea and nodded with a smile. "Both of you spoke well."
What kind of fence-sitting was this? His disciple and his esteemed student had both spoken well, indeed.
The river breeze was fine, the waves glittering. Even in winter, the tourists on the boat didn't feel cold.
This was thanks to Pishan's thick mountain roots, which kept the surrounding mountains and rivers warm even during snowmelt, like a natural earthen warming stove.
The Ye clan of Yuncao Hall was also recognized in the mountains as a great landlord, possessing numerous land deeds. Even two small country mountains and two large lakes were actually Pishan's private property.
The four of them sat around a table drinking tea. Chen Ping'an crossed his legs and took out his tobacco pipe, made from ordinary mountain green bamboo. The mouthpiece came from Dragon Beard River, carved from a white jade pebble. He pinched a small lump from a pouch of golden tobacco shreds.
Learning to smoke a pipe from Old Man Yang happened in only two situations: either when he needed to think deeply, considering both distant worries and immediate concerns, or when, like now, there was nothing to do and nothing to think about.
Xiao Mo, by the bright moonlight, drank tea while flipping through a literati notebook specifically about strange and supernatural matters. One entry mentioned a tale about this very Pei River.
Because on the main course of the Pei River, at its source and mouth, were two Water God temples built respectively. They worshipped and offered sacrifices to the East Sea Woman and the Blue Flood Lord. The most peculiar thing was that although the temples were different, the local people jointly worshipped both water gods, somewhat similar to certain Earth God temples having both an Earth God and an Earth Goddess. According to the book, the Water Goddess at the temple at the Pei River's source was originally an East Sea dragon daughter. Since childhood, she had loved literature and ink, but because dragon and flood dragon aquatic beings were naturally "unable to bear written characters," she often led the dragon palace maids, transformed into mortal noble young ladies, to take boats traveling along the sea-reaching Pei River. She would have passing scholars copy book contents for her, which she would treasure in the dragon palace's boudoir library, to show off to her peers. Unexpectedly, this attracted the covetous gaze of a terrestrial mountain lord for her beauty. He ordered his forces to intercept her at the river mouth, with the Blue Flood Lord under his command leading the vanguard to overturn the dragon boat. After succeeding, the mountain lord kept her as a hidden beauty, confining the dragon daughter in the Pei River source region, building a separate palace for her. Because every time the dragon daughter wept bitterly in her sorrow, the Pei River would flood, the mountain lord had no choice but to allow her, every ten years, to gaze at the sea from afar at the temple at the Pei River's mouth, to relieve her homesickness...
Xiao Mo raised his cup and drank some Cloud Mist tea unique to Pishan and the Pei River, then sighed emotionally, "Hateful mountain lord, coveting beauty, abusing his power. Pitiable dragon daughter, bitterly homesick yet unable to return home."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Xiao Mo, you can take a solo trip to the Blue Flood Shrine at the river mouth. It's only seven or eight hundred miles of waterway, arriving in an instant. The truth of the matter—if you meet both parties involved and ask them face to face, you'll know."
Xiao Mo said, "Let's wait until the young master finishes handling business with Pishan. Then Xiao Mo will see if there's an opportunity to visit the Blue Flood Temple."
Pei Qian said, "Unlike Mr. Xiao Mo's mountain supernatural notebook, there's actually a different version of the legend circulating in the mountains. It says the dragon daughter originally fled from a marriage and didn't want to leave the Pei River at all. She had long been in love with the Blue Flood Lord, so she asked the mountain lord to cooperate in putting on a show. The mountain lord pitied this pair of bitter lovers, but as a Great Mountain Lord, he couldn't easily tear up relations with the dragon palace, and the Blue Flood Lord under his command had a golden statue of insufficient rank. He wasn't a good match for the noble dragon daughter, and the dragon palace was powerful and valued bloodlines, absolutely not allowing this marriage. Therefore, the mountain lord had to play the villain and bear the bad reputation."
Cao Qinglang nodded. "This version is more reliable."
Xiao Mo suddenly understood. "In that case, the mountain lord is admirable, and the dragon daughter and Blue Flood Lord are to be congratulated. Though they lack a proper marital status, which is indeed regrettable, it's still far better than being forever separated by the river and sea at a hair's breadth."
Chen Ping'an smiled without speaking, leisurely blowing smoke rings. If Little Rice Grain were here, she'd surely have more to say.
The Pishan Yuncao Hall they were about to visit—its martial arts lineage was similar to Thunderclap Temple in Kaiwei Continent. Though famous across a continent, it was inherently a small fist style that was extremely difficult to spread. The threshold was high, discipleship strict. For those learning the fist to gain entrance to the hall and attain profound fist techniques was exceptionally difficult.
The incense and fire of Pishan Yuncao Hall were somewhat similar to the half-ancestral-lineage temples of Buddhism and Daoism. Yuncao Hall had always been surnamed Ye, just as Cloud Cauldron Blessed Land had always been surnamed Jiang. Because the current head of Pishan's Ye clan, Ye Yunyun, liked to wear yellow clothes, she was nicknamed Yellow-Robed Yun.
Earlier, Tongye Continent's mountains had selected ten historical martial artists of the continent.
Among those still living were only two: besides the Martial Saint Wu Shu, who hung a bamboo sword on his back with a wooden spear, there was Ye Yunyun, who liked to wear yellow.
One man, one woman, two martial arts titans, with no record of fist challenges to date. It was like well water and river water, each suppressing half a continent with their fists.
However, the former preferred to travel the Jianghu alone, and with a mixed reputation, it was natural that he couldn't command the same widespread support and following as Yellow-Robed Yun and Pishan in Tongye Continent.
In private, mountain cultivators actually had considerable grievances against Wu Shu. The reason was that this foremost martial artist neither stayed home nor cared for his home. Throughout the great battle, from start to finish, he only sought fame in other continents' mountains and rivers, punching ferociously and killing demons endlessly, while watching helplessly as his homeland's mountains and rivers were reduced to ruins.
Pei Qian said softly, "Master, this Senior Ye whom we met at Yellow Crane Pier last time... she seemed to be only at the Qi-Sheng bottleneck, and her foundation was generally mediocre. Even if she barely made it into the top ten, she should be at the bottom, at most ranking eighth or ninth, not as high as sixth."
On the mountain gazette, there were even quite a few immortal masters defending Yellow-Robed Yun, feeling this ranking was too low. They thought she should at least be ranked after Wu Shu.
Pei Qian felt such matters shouldn't be treated so lightly.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "If you add Patriarch Ye's Jade Capital Realm cultivation, ranking sixth isn't a big problem."
But if you simply compared martial arts, it was indeed as Pei Qian said—Martial Artist Ye Yunyun's ranking at the bottom was still questionable.
To put it harshly, this was like the living bullying the dead who couldn't speak.
Conversely, Wu Shu ranking fourth wasn't a big problem.
And the founding ancestor of Pishan Yuncao Hall, that genius who created Pishan fist techniques from six immortal paintings, was actually ranked only fifth.
This Ultimate Realm martial artist, Ye Yugu, was ranked third in the Ye clan ancestral hall and was revered as an unremovable ancestor.
He had once established great fame in the Central Earth Divine Continent, and later earned a very impressive evaluation: "Alone, in a hundred and twenty years, his fist suppressed three continents."
The three continents referred to were his hometown Tongye Continent, plus the northern Vase Bottle Continent and North Juju Continent. As for Vase Bottle Continent at that time, it could only be considered as having been forcibly conscripted to make up the numbers.
In Chen Ping'an's view, barring accidents, when Ye Yugu was at his martial peak, he hadn't yet reached the final layer of Ultimate Realm, Spirit Arrival. It was estimated that precisely because he couldn't break through the Return to Truth bottleneck, Ye Yugu, who had once traveled the world to exchange for a grand Qi-Sheng Realm atmosphere, had achieved little effect. That was why he had been forced to switch to attaining the Jade Capital Realm, becoming an Upper Five Realm cultivator. Ye Yugu could naturally gain more lifespan, using meticulous effort to slowly temper his physical foundation, seeking opportunities to advance further on the martial path.
However, the matter of Ye Yunyun only ever wearing yellow clothes made Chen Ping'an think of Little Vase Bottle.
He wondered what great figure or prophecy was involved with this Yellow-Robed Yun.
Chen Ping'an's thoughts drifted far away. His own Xiandu Mountain Green Ping Sword Sect, unlike the superior sect Fallen Mountain, had the suffix "Sword Sect." But from current appearances, Cui Dongshan intended to build the branch sect into a behemoth. Sword cultivators were certainly necessary—this was the unchanging foundation of a sword dao sect for a thousand years—but there were even more types of Qi refiners. This was the flourishing diversity a peak-level major sect should have.
Larger sect peaks often had hundreds or even thousands of members, like Zhengyang Mountain. Vase Bottle Continent's Shen Gao Sect, with a medium-grade Clear Pool Blessed Land, even had as many as two thousand registered disciples. And some major sects in Central Earth Divine Continent, including branch sects and vassal peaks, could number tens of thousands. Of course, not all could be Qi refiners; they would include mountain immortal family members, as well as attendants, maids, cooks, and laborers of various peaks and immortal mansions.
Generally divided into Patriarch Hall direct disciples, inner sect, outer sect—like a capital's palace city, imperial city, outer city—plus surrounding vassal peaks, which formed the capital region. If there was also a branch sect, it would be like constructing an auxiliary capital.
A mountain without people was like water without a source.
But if a mountain gate didn't have several high-level dao methods for inheritance, it was like a tree without roots, equally unable to retain immortal cultivation talents, and would find it hard to have a flourishing atmosphere.
Just like the Rain Prayer Stele dao technique Chen Ping'an had buried near the River Water God temple. It was most suitable for Earth Immortals to cultivate. And many major peaks in the Haoran World had one or even several ancestral entry-level dao methods and immortal techniques that could help disciples quickly open their apertures. Once they became Qi refiners, they could quickly reach the Cave Abode Realm. The ascent was fast and the footing steady. Such immortal secret manuals and dao techniques were respectively called "Door Opening Methods" and "Path Leading Techniques," directly determining a sect's depth of foundation, capable of attracting many cultivation seeds and helping them break through realms together in the early stages of ascension.
Similar to the Rain Prayer Technique, this was a kind of mid-mountain dao method that could prevent a sect from appearing with a gap in succession.
In truth, if Chen Ping'an was willing to use every means, there was a method right before him that would yield immediate results. There was a shortcut.
The white-haired child in Qilong Alley, who was still merely an "unregistered miscellaneous labor disciple," had inherited most of Wu Shuangjiang's memories. Aside from some secret arts of the Year Expelling Palace that were not transmitted externally, which Wu Shuangjiang had sealed with his unique secret technique like sealing a mountain, in terms of "miscellaneous studies," it was still extremely considerable. Therefore, the white-haired child himself was like half a secret repository of Year Expelling Palace's dao methods. However, Chen Ping'an was neither willing nor suitable to bring this up.
"Konghou," the Extraterritorial Heavenly Demon whose previous form was Year Expelling Palace female cultivator Tianran, was only a guest at Fallen Mountain after all.
Whether Fallen Mountain or Green Ping Sword Sect, both had a long way to go and a bright future ahead.
At a nearby table, a woman frowned slightly and waved her hand to disperse the smoke.
She had endured the neighboring table's man for a long time. The smoke drifted with the wind, spoiling half the fragrance of her own tea.
But such a matter was always inappropriate for her to say much about. It was like drinking in a tavern—if someone was loud, it was still at their own table.
Chen Ping'an noticed the woman's movement, quickly put away his pipe, and cast an apologetic glance at her.
The woman smiled slightly and nodded in acknowledgment.
After a moment's consideration, she raised her hat-shaped teacup as a return salute.
After all, they were all mountain cultivators traveling abroad. For this blue-robed guest to show such willingness to yield was already quite rare.
According to some gazettes from other continents, if this were North Juju Continent, the other party wouldn't have just slammed the table and said, "What are you looking at?"—that would already count as polite.
Thus, even if Tongye Continent cultivators today traveled across continents, they would first choose South Bodhisattva Continent, and would never willingly go to the two northern continents.
Perhaps discovering that the blue-robed guest was timid and certainly not a registered immortal master from a great immortal family, another group of tea drinkers not far away included a burly, strong man who spoke up: "Young lady, quite the big mouthpiece. Who gave you the authority to casually criticize the rankings of these peak martial arts masters?"
If they really had money, who would choose this small broken boat to enjoy the Pei River scenery? Their group was different—they were accompanying the noble and accomplished-in-daoism Young Master Yuwen. He was experiencing the hardships of the common people out of compassion. Otherwise, he could have directly conjured up a mountain talisman boat to travel the Pei River if he wanted. And the burly man, as a retainer who was a Sixth Realm martial artist just half a step away from the title of master, was also an admirer of Yellow-Robed Yun. Of course, he couldn't tolerate a young woman spouting nonsense over there.
With such a big mouth, why not go challenge Yellow-Robed Yun to a fist fight? Not to mention meeting the Ye peak master—she couldn't even see her, let alone face her personally taught disciple, Scholar Xue's own disciple, in a fist match. Then don't cry when you're beaten.
Pei Qian said blandly, "My teacher."
At that table, a handsome young master who seemed to be the leader held a closed folding fan. A miniature peachwood sword fan pendant hung from a gold thread. He smiled and asked, "May I ask the young lady's name, and whose disciple she is?"
Pei Qian replied, "Encountered by chance on the Jianghu, meeting by fate. Why need to ask names?"
The man who first spoke, unable to tolerate a young girl speaking so pretentiously, clacked his teacup heavily on the table and laughed angrily, "Who gave you the guts to speak to Young Master Yuwen like that?"
Pei Qian glanced sideways at the man and chuckled, "My fists and feet."
The man laughed angrily, feigning rage. "Who taught such a fiery girl?!"
Chen Ping'an spoke up, smiling. "I did."
Earlier at their own Wild Cloud Ferry, which was merely nominally under Spirit Wall Mountain, Chen Ping'an had made a flimsy excuse—saying he'd taken a fancy to something and changed his mind about buying it. He'd made a detour alone, using Cloud Water Body, to visit the prison where Lingbi Mountain kept Qi refiners, to meet that man who had dared to grope Pei Qian in the shop. Without charging anything, he taught the man a simple lesson for being outside: "If you can't control your eyes, at least control your hands."
Along the way, he'd inquired about the origins of this group. They turned out to be affiliated with an old Great Xia Dynasty prince struggling to restore his kingdom. There were over twenty groups of imperial retainers like them, sent out by imperial decree to collect money. Each also bore a secret mission: to recruit scattered old registered immortal masters from collapsed mountain peaks, wild cultivators from forests and marshes, and outlaws who had become bandits. The imperial court didn't care about background at all—heroes didn't need prestigious origins. As long as one was willing to nod and make a trip to the "capital," get registered in the Ministry of Rites and listed in the Ministry of Revenue, one could immediately rise to become a Great Xia Dynasty's honored retainer, eating imperial grain, obtaining official status, and enjoying a life of ease.
Probably because these mountain immortal masters out on their travels had never encountered such a way of conversing, they found it interesting instead of infuriating.
People nearby couldn't help but laugh.
Two women at different tables cast seductive glances, both looking at the same person.
The object of their secret admiration was Cao Qinglang.
What a handsome young man, refined and gentle, with an air of scholarly erudition.
As for the other two men at his table, they weren't bad-looking either, especially the one with a jade hairpin and long blue gown... pity he was a bit older.
The young master surnamed Yuwen gripped his fan and cupped his hands in a salute. "Unintentional words, please don't mind."
Chen Ping'an raised his teacup toward that table, indicating it was fine.
The pleasure boat approached a boatyard.
Since fists were at Pishan, for an outsider martial artist to gain fame, they must also do so at Pishan.
Beside that boatyard, a water-adjacent arena had been built, paved with black and white mountain stones in a large yin-yang fish pattern, extremely sturdy.
Just now, two long-famous Jianghu experts, both Golden Body Realm martial artists worthy of the title Master, had agreed to meet here tonight to spar in fist techniques.
A middle-aged martial artist, outmatched, had his chest struck heavily by an old man's dual cannon hammers. Coincidentally, the man sent flying backward directly crashed into a passing decorated boat. The old man's fist force was extremely heavy and powerful; the man couldn't fully disperse the force, and the entire pleasure boat was knocked off the water, spinning several times in the air. The tourists on board fell into the water like dumplings being boiled.
Without waiting for her master's order, Pei Qian's figure had already vanished from the table. She caught the large boat about to tilt and fall into the river with one palm, gently pushed it, and set it steadily on the river surface.
Those who had fallen into the Pei River were pulled back by fist force, as if someone were dragging them by their collars, and brought back onto the boat.
Pei Qian then pressed down with one palm, dispersing the fierce waves stirred up by the fist intent, preventing them from affecting their own pleasure boat.
Returning to the boat, before sitting down, she saw the two martial artists—one standing on the river surface, the other on the shore arena—saluting her with cupped fists from afar. The middle-aged martial artist who stood still on the water had a sincere expression and invited Pei Qian ashore for a chat. Pei Qian merely cupped her fists in return as a polite refusal.
The group of registered immortal masters began to grow restless. Especially the man who had had a "casual chat" with Pei Qian—only now did he truly understand what "teacher," "fists and feet," and "meeting by fate without asking names" meant.
This young girl was actually a Far Travel Realm martial arts master?!
Chen Ping'an joked with that table of immortal masters. "A mere gesture, nothing to dwell on."
The young master surnamed Yuwen felt both awkward and relieved.
As for the two women who had initially been smitten with Cao Qinglang, they now looked at the blue-robed man with the jade hairpin again. His age didn't seem that old either.
Unfortunately, Pishan territory forbade any immortal master from activating mirror-flower-water-moon scenes.
And Pishan Yuncao Hall disciples, when cultivating on the mountain, had to focus without distraction, with all kinds of mountain gazettes sealed off.
Therefore, when the Confucian Temple had previously banned gazettes throughout all continents, it had almost no effect on Pishan disciples. Only those who had descended the mountain to train felt somewhat regretful.
Family rules were strict, sect conduct severe; neither inside nor outside Pishan dared to violate the prohibitions.
Chen Ping'an disembarked at a boatyard, with more than twenty miles of mountain path still to walk to reach Pishan Yuncao Hall's mountain gate.
As for Pishan Mountain itself, it wasn't really a big mountain. Its scale might not even match that of a small country's crown prince's mountain.
In fact, the group led by that Young Master Yuwen should also have disembarked here, carrying a secret letter from the emperor to discuss important matters with Xue Fuzi of Yuncao Hall.
But the young master hesitated, then decided to disembark at another boatyard dock, taking a detour to see more scenery.
Xiao Mo, carrying a bamboo box and holding a walking stick, lightly tapped the ground with his green bamboo staff and smiled. "Young master, such a sect that simultaneously practices immortal techniques and martial arts is rare, isn't it?"
Chen Ping'an smiled and pointed at Pei Qian. "You'll have to ask her. Pei Qian has traveled to more continents and has broader experience."
Pei Qian felt a bit embarrassed. She had indeed traveled to many continents, but she had done so absentmindedly, like a horse galloping past flowers—she'd have to halve the count. Her master, on the other hand, should double the count.
If she halved hers and he doubled his, the difference would be enormous.
But seeing Xiao Mo waiting for her answer, Pei Qian had to say, "Yuncao Hall disciples' cultivation path isn't commonly seen even in the Haoran World. However, if a Pishan disciple successfully forms a golden core or becomes a Golden Body Realm martial artist, unless they're a first-rate genius and obtain permission from the Patriarch Hall, they can continue walking both paths. Otherwise, they must choose one of the two and focus solely on Qi Refinement or martial arts. In Central Earth Divine Continent, there's a sect with few members, and every sword cultivator in the Patriarch Hall is also a talisman cultivator without exception. In the history of Golden Armor Continent, there was a sect similar to Pishan, but with the added ability of alchemy. However, their mountain gate was destroyed by the Barbarian Wilderness demons. Now they have fewer than ten disciples, with only one Earth Immortal remaining. Their patriarchs and teachers all died in battle, and there's no guardian left. For them to restore their sect's former glory would be very difficult."
Pei Qian had fought alongside them on several battlefields from south to north in Golden Armor Continent.
She had also saved that young Earth Immortal who had been resolved to die.
Chen Ping'an explained, "This is because many of Pishan's fist technique stances are extremely profound, with a long history traced back to the six ancestral 'Immortal Paintings' of Pishan. They are named: Watching Waterfall Painting, Daoist Rite, Silk Pounding, Zither Carving, Scholar's Chanting While Walking, and Fishing for the Moon with a Bamboo Basket. Therefore, Yuncao Hall's martial arts, passed down through generations and continuously refined and supplemented by successive peak masters and patriarchs, eventually derived over sixty stances and fist techniques from the six immortal paintings. Hence the saying, 'Stances come from the paintings; fists go into the paintings.'"
Such a sect, as Pei Qian said, wasn't common throughout the entire Haoran World. Although cultivators walking both paths had tough physiques—the advantages far outweighing the disadvantages—the disadvantages weren't small either. For example, this nearby Pishan, shrouded in clouds and mist, had high techniques and even higher fists, yet had never been able to become a Zong-level immortal sect. In fact, Pishan had had two opportunities in its history. The first was when founding ancestor Ye Yugu, after attaining Jade Capital Realm, emerged from seclusion to visit friends down the mountain, wanting to reminisce with his close friend Xun Yuan of Jade Gui Sect.
Unfortunately, this trip down the mountain led to a great calamity. For reasons unknown, he was ambushed by a great figure. Ye Yugu returned heavily wounded, yet took the secret to his grave, never saying who it was, not even to the Patriarch Hall or his personal disciples. This became another thousand-year-unsolved cold case in the mountains.
Until now, Tongye Continent had only started reopening old accounts, with much heated discussion and vividly detailed accounts as if witnessed firsthand. It was said that the Zhongxing Ancestor of Tongye Sect, known for his narrow-mindedness, feared that if Ye Yugu successfully reached Immortal Realm, combined with his Ultimate Realm fist techniques, Pishan—founded less than a hundred years—might directly challenge Tongye Sect. So Du Mao had personally made a move, secretly intercepting and dealing a killing blow. This caused Ye Yugu's realm to plummet tragically. Within a few years of returning to Pishan, his injuries proved fatal, and he passed away in obscurity.
The second opportunity was Ye Yunyun. Besides being a martial Ultimate Realm, she was also a relatively little-known Jade Capital Realm cultivator. But this was delayed by the war, and after Ye Yunyun reached the Upper Five Realm, she only casually mentioned it in Pishan's Patriarch Hall and forbade members from leaking the information externally. She also hadn't reported it to Da Fu Academy. It was obvious that, at least in the near term, Pishan had no intention of taking the opportunity to become a formal sect.
It seemed Pishan always fell slightly short of becoming a proper sect—like the will of Heaven.
Heaven wasn't cooperating?
As if by way of compensation, the seventh immortal painting Ye Yunyun had recently obtained was exceptionally precious, worth a fortune.
Chen Ping'an had heard Jiang Shangzhen emphasize this point—it was a Wall-Facing Painting, of higher rank than the six ancestral paintings.
And this Chief Zhou, before leaving the Haoran World, had specially left a letter at Fallen Mountain mentioning this matter.
According to Jiang Shangzhen's description in the letter, this painting's origin was extremely unusual. It depicted a back-facing monk wearing a kasaya but a Daoist crown on his head, holding a jade tablet, facing a mural.
A painting within a painting—the mural depicted a rubbing of an ancient bronze cauldron, along with thousands of densely packed ancient seal script characters.
Pei Qian suddenly smiled. "Master, since Sister Huang Ting has returned to her hometown, when will we go find her?"
She still had a very good impression of that female Daoist sister. Cold on the outside, warm on the inside—very different from Sui Youbian.
Chen Ping'an said, "We'll return to Xiandu Mountain first, then go to Little Dragon Falls together."
Walking on a secluded path leading to Pishan's mountain gate, Chen Ping'an took out his tobacco pipe again, squinting as he thought.
Why had Pishan escaped disaster when the continent's mountains and rivers had sunk into ruin? This was actually quite thought-provoking.
On the mountains, from Fu Ji Sect to Tai Ping Mountain, even Jade Gui Sect, though they preserved their ancestral enterprises from having their incense cut off, their Patriarch Halls had few living people left. Now, at every meeting, half the seats remained empty.
Off the mountains, the only dynasty to preserve its uninterrupted rule was Da Quan Dynasty. Its border troops had died in countless numbers but could only retreat step by step, eventually barely holding on to Shenjing City without losing it.
Only Pishan seemed to have just fought a few trivial mountain battles—much thunder, little rain. A few tent great demons observed from afar. For unknown reasons, with remarkable tacit understanding, none had truly attacked Pishan.
Otherwise, Ye Yunyun wouldn't have wanted to go fight in Da Quan Dynasty territory back then.
According to Cui Dongshan, Wen Hai Zhoumi placed great hopes on this unremarkable Pishan.
Chen Ping'an understood immediately—it involved pure martial artists' dead-end path and the matter of reopening the divine path in the human world.
But Tongye Continent's cultivators today all deliberately or inadvertently overlooked this, simply believing it was the Ye clan's ancestral blessings and heavenly fortune protecting Pishan.
Approaching the mountain gate, Chen Ping'an put away his tobacco pipe.
This thing still wasn't to his liking. It was choking, choking himself—seemed harder than drinking.
---
Little Dragon Falls' ancestral mountain, Dragon Sleep Mountain, where the Patriarch Hall was located, was also named Heart's Intent Peak.
A female Daoist, an outsider here, had built a thatched hut here to cultivate. After the sword challenge, she still hadn't left.
She drove an ancient sword into the peak's earth, as if this peak had now become her territory.
But even Little Dragon Falls' cultivators had to admit that the woman's sword-challenging posture was elegant and dashing.
Fortunately, Little Dragon Falls had done its best to suppress the news, and Tongye Continent currently had few established immortal sects, with few mountain gazettes. Otherwise, if this got out, outsiders would laugh their teeth off.
Unlike other Haoran continents, Tongye Continent was notoriously isolated, like an old antique full of gloom yet arrogantly self-satisfied.
Hence, when Jiang Shangzhen appeared, things got so lively.
Fu Ji Sect and Tai Ping Mountain, two large sects, now each had only one survivor, like single seedlings.
The female Daoist Huang Ting stood at the cliff's edge, both hands on her sword, head raised to look at the moon.
She had attained Jade Capital Realm in the Five Colors World. Her luck there had been good, with continuous opportunities. But such heavenly-blessed fortune was something she'd been accustomed to since childhood.
Anyway, when she was little, a wandering master who passed by Tai Ping Mountain said she had a blessed fate.
Earlier, with one sword strike, she split open the mountain-protecting grand formation's water-and-mountain prohibition; with a second strike, she severely wounded Little Dragon Falls' peak master; with a third, she split the Patriarch Hall in two.
Sword in hand, hovering in the air, she left only two sentences for the stunned cultivators of the entire mountain.
"Whoever receives the next sword, beware of death."
"But if anyone can take three swords, I'll pay to repair your Patriarch Hall."
Of course, no one dared to receive the sword.
This female Daoist from Tai Ping Mountain, Huang Ting, was one of the most legendary female cultivators in Tongye Continent's past.
Jiang Shangzhen's incredible luck from Jade Gui Sect, and Huang Ting's blessings from Tai Ping Mountain—together they were called the Twin Jewels of the Continent.
Huang Ting's sudden return to her hometown had completely caught Little Dragon Falls off guard. When Tongye Continent's gate opened to that new continent for refuge, the Confucian Temple had set a hundred-year deadline before opening the gate on schedule.
Therefore, Huang Ting's abrupt appearance had caught Little Dragon Falls unprepared. Actually, earlier, when an outsider had visited the Tai Ping Mountain ruins, Little Dragon Falls had sensed something was wrong. When Huang Ting appeared to challenge with her sword, they were utterly resigned.
Now in Patriarch Hall meetings, they weren't thinking about expelling her, but rather discussing how to apologize to this female Daoist sword cultivator—an entire sect of one—so she would move out of the Patriarch Hall. Even if she wouldn't leave Heart's Intent Peak, moving to a different spot would do.
The actual manager of Little Dragon Falls now, a Nascent Soul cultivator, had originally planned to establish his authority with three major initiatives. He wanted his sect to occupy the Tai Ping Mountain ruins, gather the remaining dao aura, and, combined with his own lifebound treasure, try to refine a new Moon Bright Mirror. Both for public and private benefit, this would be a great dao advantage—much more practical than building a "wild garden" for tourists.
Huang Ting looked around. Little Dragon Falls was surrounded by watery marshlands. The mountain-protecting offerings on left and right were a rare Moon-Grasping Ape (not of the mountain-moving type) and a large Softshell Turtle.
Additionally, within the mountain's water territory, there was a giant Green Carp that had become a spirit and a large Catfish. They hadn't received imperial recognition but had self-proclaimed themselves Grand Saint of the Liu River and King of the Huang River. However, it was said that during the great battle, they both ran away. After the battle ended, they both returned.
Little Dragon Falls hadn't bothered with these two water lords. Probably they felt having two Golden Cores—like not letting fertile water flow into others' fields—was fine even as decorations.
Little Dragon Falls' town-mountain treasure was a Guyu Gourd.
The female peak master who had received one of her sword strikes had the dao title Sovereign of Pure Frost.
But the actual manager now was her junior disciple—ambitious but lacking ability, with an improper heart.
The reasoning was simple: after the sword strike split the mountain-water prohibition, Sovereign of Pure Frost, who was in seclusion, had to break out to receive Huang Ting's second sword. Meanwhile, that man seemed to prefer watching the drama, secretly pleased now. After all, with her senior sister needing longer seclusion to recover—at least forty or fifty years, maybe sixty—she wouldn't be restoring her original realm anytime soon. This man's lifebound treasure was a fishing rod that could use the moon reflected in water as bait, similar in effect to a Dragon King Basket.
Now the only Little Dragon Falls cultivator who dared approach Huang Ting's thatched hut was a young female cultivator named Linghu Jiaoyu, dao title Dispelling Summer Heat.
The dao titles of mountain cultivators, like a young man's courtesy name after coming of age, weren't casually given to Qi refiners—they had to reach the Middle Five Realm's Cave Abode Realm.
Her parents were both Little Dragon Falls cultivators, a mountain dao couple. As their only daughter, she was naturally doted on. But they had both died fighting outside the mountain. They needn't have died—it was said they had to save old friends outside. In many people's eyes, even among Little Dragon Falls' own cultivators, this was seeking death, utterly ridiculous. But Huang Ting didn't find it ridiculous at all.
That was why she let this girl called Linghu Jiaoyu come here to "visit."
The girl wore a green conch shell hanging at her waist—a mountain-calling type of dharma treasure, somewhat like a Mountain-Chasing Bell. However, it could only handle "mountain-training" matters with mountain gods and earth gods. It wasn't as miraculous as the latter, which could expel mountains and drive mountains into the sea.
This Little Dragon Falls seemed to have issues with mountains. For example, there was a Stone-Boiling Platform on the mountain, and outside the mountain, there was a Rolling Mountain River.
The only somewhat interesting thing was that in ancient times, two immortals had played chess here. Beneath a pine tree, only a half-finished game remained, unaware of spring passing and autumn coming.
Huang Ting had visited that spot. There was indeed something to it.
She turned her head and saw the girl approaching. When the girl drew near, Huang Ting walked toward the thatched hut. The girl followed, with remarkable understanding.
Inside the thatched hut was only a bed and a stool. After winter, a brazier had been added. In the corner was a bag of charcoal. Huang Ting sat on the edge of the bed, feet on the brazier's rim, leaning forward, using fire tongs to stir the coals.
Linghu Jiaoyu crouched nearby, warming her hands.
Huang Ting said, "There's a stool—why not sit?"
Only then did Linghu Jiaoyu get up, move to sit on the long stool, facing Huang Ting across the brazier.
Huang Ting said casually, "Linghu Jiaoyu—scorched and paste fish? Who named you that? What were your parents thinking?"
Linghu Jiaoyu smiled. "Sister Huang Ting, there's a story behind it. When my mother was pregnant with me, she dreamed one night of a deep pool under green banana shade. A fish floated up to the shore, raised its head, looked at my mother, and even spoke. My parents both thought it was an auspicious omen, so they gave me this name."
Now on the mountain, elders and fellow disciples would deliberately avoid mentioning her parents—out of kindness, afraid she'd be sad.
But actually, she didn't overthink it. She even felt that since her parents were such good people, why not talk about them? It was certainly more joy than sorrow.
Like now.
Huang Ting asked, "Up north in Vase Bottle Continent, there's a Big and Little Dragon Falls. Any connection to yours?"
Linghu Jiaoyu looked blank. "Ah?"
It was her first time hearing there was also a Little Dragon Falls in Vase Bottle Continent.
Huang Ting asked, "Do you want to come with me to Tai Ping Mountain to cultivate?"
Linghu Jiaoyu thought for a moment, then shook her head timidly. "Probably not."
Huang Ting had only asked on a whim, so she didn't press. If the girl didn't want to, fine. She teased, "Anyway, you won't have trouble marrying."
On the latest Flower God Mountain Rouge List from Cloud Cauldron Blessed Land, this little girl was listed.
Linghu Jiaoyu felt a bit shy. She looked up at the female Daoist sister's face reflected by the charcoal firelight—she was far more beautiful than her.
Huang Ting pointed to a sword hanging on the wall and smiled. "Unlike you, I'm a sword cultivator. A pretty face can't fill your stomach."
As for the sword she'd brought back from the Five Colors World, she'd picked it up from some secret realm ruins.
It was probably an immortal weapon with its own spirit. It acknowledged her as master on its own, glowing with sword light as it flew straight toward her. At the time, she had just been following a crowd of immortal masters watching the excitement, seeing those Middle Five Realm gods busily setting up formations and such, very hardworking. She was just passing the time out of boredom. In the Five Colors World back then, a Golden Core Earth Immortal dared to establish a sect.
Additionally, Huang Ting had taken on a young girl as a disciple there—a "local" child born in the Five Colors World.
But she hadn't brought her back this time, leaving the child in Flying Ascension City's care. After all, in that Five Colors World, there was also a mountain peak with a stele inscribed with the words Tai Ping Mountain.
Within a thousand-mile radius, cultivators were forbidden to enter, or they would have to challenge her to a sword duel.
The reason she could exceptionally leave the Five Colors World was that Ning Yao, the number one person of that world, had inexplicably found her.
Ning Yao had been accompanied by a spirited young girl carrying a green bamboo staff, with a Chaoshou Inkstone hanging at her waist. She seemed to be called Guo Zhujiu.
The young girl was very interesting to talk to. She claimed to be the personal disciple of the Hidden Officer. Her sword technique was so-so, but her fist techniques were solid.
Ning Yao told Huang Ting about the recent situation of Tai Ping Mountain in Tongye Continent. She said Chen Ping'an had disrupted Little Dragon Falls' attempt to occupy the old site. She also said that if Huang Ting was willing to return to her hometown and help Guo Zhujiu guard the dao along the river of time, as thanks, the Confucian Temple wouldn't hinder her, and Flying Ascension City could take care of the Tai Ping Mountain "branch sect" here for a hundred years...
Huang Ting looked at that woman carrying a sword case who seemed to be negotiating with her.
What a difficult position for this number one of the Five Colors World.
Back then, Guo Zhujiu had loudly said, "Take care, Master's Wife!"
Then the girl lowered her voice. "Master's Wife, rest assured. When I get to Fallen Mountain in Vase Bottle Continent, if I find any fox spirits shamelessly pestering Master again and again... heh, don't blame me for being merciless."
The girl made a throat-slitting gesture.
Ning Yao patted the girl's head, her expression gentle. "That master of yours fears nothing in heaven or earth, but there's one thing he fears most. And I happen to know it best."
Only then did Huang Ting, through Guo Zhujiu's three different addresses, realize with surprise that Guo Zhujiu's master was indeed the Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall, which meant Chen Ping'an of Fallen Mountain.
Huang Ting knew in her heart that if it weren't for Chen Ping'an, with Ning Yao having no connection to her whatsoever, there was no reason for her to waste merit at the Confucian Temple.
Looking at Ning Yao's expression and eyes, Huang Ting found it very interesting. You're Ning Yao, and you too would become like this? But maybe this was what it meant to be a woman—to be in love. Willing to become less like oneself for someone else.
Linghu Jiaoyu lowered her head, timidly. "Sister Huang Ting, the patriarch had me ask you something. I don't dare refuse, but I also don't dare tell you."
Huang Ting couldn't help but laugh. After thinking for a moment, she said, "It's fine. Just tell him that when I tire of staying here, I'll leave on my own."
Linghu Jiaoyu nodded vigorously.
Now that she had an answer, she felt light as air.
Glancing at the innocent girl, Huang Ting sighed and exceptionally repeated her question, "Really not coming to cultivate with me?"
Linghu Jiaoyu gently shook her head, bent over, stared intently at the coals in the brazier, and whispered, "I have to visit my parents' graves every year. If I go cultivate at Tai Ping Mountain, I can't do that."
Huang Ting nodded and hummed in acknowledgment.
Tai Ping Mountain now only had her left.
Wherever her body was, Tai Ping Mountain was there.
In a foreign land, she felt lonely.
Returning to her homeland, she felt isolated instead.
---
A small kingdom in central Tongye Continent had just restored its rule. In a county seat under Liuzhou's administration, years after the great battle, there was finally some vitality returning.
At a night market stall, a scholar and a fat man sat at a table, each eating a steaming bowl of snail noodles.
Along their journey from autumn into winter, the two—or more precisely, two ghosts—had also seen, down the mountain, grain carts crossing rivers beside streamside mills. Wheels rumbled as an old man carried a long pole with a wild pheasant hanging from it.
Food was the people's heaven. An old ox was by their side. Farming families gauged the climate, all said it would be a bountiful year.
At this night market stall, the bowls weren't small, but compared to the bowls of Green Tour Palace, they seemed particularly tiny.
The fat man ate while shaking his head. "This cinnamon, a bit lacking. The pickled bamboo shoots didn't use the yellow-mud tips from spring shoots. As for the pickled mountain peppers, don't even mention them. Not as good as that River Water Mansion we visited earlier."
Zhong Kui lightly tapped the tabletop with his chopsticks. "That's enough. Five coins for a big bowl of snail noodles—that's good value. What more do you want?"
The key was that this fat man chattered like an old woman. He'd already had almost two big bowls, and from the looks of it, he could still go for another.
The fat man, who had given himself the pseudonym "Gusu," suddenly stopped his chopsticks, raised his head, wiped his mouth with his hand, then wiped it on the table's underside. "I've been holding back without saying, so I've been holding back without asking. It's killing me. That time when we crossed the water, what was up with you? Did you spot someone? Or did you catch a big fish that slipped through the net? Obviously it's good news, not some pretty woman. What's there not to share? 'Shared joy is double joy.'"
Zhong Kui raised his hand to pay the bill.
The fat man got anxious. "Hey, I haven't even filled the gaps between my teeth! I need another bowl!"
Zhong Kui ignored him, but when he paid, he gave enough copper coins for four bowls of snail noodles.
The fat man burped. He had some awareness, at least. In the past, he could have been promoted for that.
Zhong Kui sat with his hands in his sleeves, letting the fat man eat his second bowl of snail noodles.
This fellow was truly rare. Rumor had it that in his youth, he was addicted to gambling, neglecting sleep and food, loafing around, without propriety. Before he usurped the throne and established his kingdom, he had personally killed someone with a chessboard. He had also, on the street, been slapped in the face by a woman who didn't know his identity, and he didn't fight back.
He could recite refined verses: "A beautiful youth with golden whip, urging his black-maned steed forward; back then, spring clothes were thin, apricot blossoms covered his head."
And like now, he could also say: "When a man is starving and then works, food tastes good. Full and satisfied, he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. Sound sleep means he won't dwell on the young women he saw during the day, and he's not even afraid of the emperor. What spare time does he have for thinking about nonsense?"
Zhong Kui said softly, "'Poverty cures all ills'—that's a very bitter saying."
The fat man rolled a huge bunch of snail noodles onto his chopsticks. It smelled rank but tasted delicious. He curled his lip. "No matter how bitter, what can you do? You still have to obediently accept your fate. Water has its source, trees have roots, mountains have their veins, and humans have birth, aging, sickness, and death. Since these are rules set by the Old Man Heaven, we bow our heads whether we like it or not. Besides, I'm not one of you scholars. I don't go in for lamenting 'Alas, between heaven and earth, the common people are ever bitter and toiling.' To take it a step further, no matter how bad my reputation in later ages, back then, when I sat on the dragon throne as emperor, if my own people stretched out their necks for foreign cultivators to cut, would they dare? So I say, that Da Li Song clan up north nowadays is at best at the level I reached long ago."
Zhong Kui smiled. "You might want to save such bold talk for later."
Gusu grinned. "What of it if I say it to his face? I'll say it regardless."
In fact, the two should have gone to Da Fu Academy long ago. The reason they changed course, detouring around water and mountains to drift here—what else could it be? Zhong Kui had plenty of ideas.
Gusu didn't have the ability to divine. He didn't know what Zhong Kui was thinking. Back when he was an official, before he wore the dragon robe, that former emperor, even more moody than himself, would occasionally summon fortune-tellers to predict when he would die. The fortune-tellers' fates were predictable.
Da Fu Academy was rebuilt on its old site. The new academy head, from Da Li Dynasty's Linlu Academy, was Cheng Longzhou, and this was also the true name of the ten-thousand-year water dragon demon from the Huangting Kingdom.
After the fat man finished eating, Zhong Kui took him to a county town god temple. The yamen was brand new, and the incumbent was a new county god.
Gusu asked, "Brother Zhong, why not go straight to the prefectural city god? If that's no good, can't we brothers throw our weight around at the commandery city god?"
Because it was simultaneously the seat of both prefectural and county governments, the governor's yamen, the prefectural yamen, and the county yamen were all in the same city. Moreover, it had two attached counties within one city. This was good in a way—it could be considered a pair of miserable brothers. According to officialdom's inside knowledge, "Three lifetimes of misfortune make a magistrate attached to a prefectural seat; three lifetimes of evil deeds make one attached to a provincial seat." Similar to attached county magistrates, the local city gods were in a roughly similar position, perhaps even more difficult to officiate.
Earlier, strolling around the city during the day, they'd picked up some gossip. It was said that the two attached counties, in the last two years, had been competing for the "First County" title.
The ranking of attached counties generally followed historical precedence. But counties with auspicious names like "Shangyuan" or "Renhe" seemed to have priority.
Zhong Kui's status was now transcendent, like those imperial censors in unofficial histories who "toured the realm, pacified the military, and investigated the people" on behalf of His Majesty.
Even though Zhong Kui didn't yet have a formal official position in Fengdu, he was like the stories where one held an imperial sword and could execute first and report later. Thus, he had more power than regional feudal lords, because Zhong Kui could act as circumstances dictated.
Standing at the temple gate, Zhong Kui didn't hurry to enter. He suddenly said, "Earlier, I received a secret letter."
Gusu rubbed his face vigorously with both hands. "What now? Besides smashing the Immortal Hairpin City, what other outrageous things has that friend of yours done? Come on, tell me. See if it can scare me to death."
Zhong Kui spoke through his mind with a smile. "Nothing much. He just snatched half of the Yeluo River, then completely emptied Tuoyue Mountain, killed a Flying Ascension Realm great demon, and together moved the Bright Moon and Bright Light to the Green Darkness World."
Gusu chuckled. "And here I thought it was something major. That's nothing much."
The fat man wiped his forehead. Good thing there was no sweat.
"Brother Zhong's friend is my friend. Since we're all friends, what's there to talk about in terms of realm? I say, that friend of yours, the more I look at him, the more handsome he becomes. A man should be like that—unremarkable at first glance, but the more others look, the more brilliant he becomes."
Gusu raised his thumb high. "Zhong Kui, you're really something when it comes to making friends. In this matter, I admit I'm inferior. I must give you a sincere thumbs up."
Seeing Zhong Kui's ambiguous smile, the fat man rubbed his face with his thumb. "His looks? In my younger days, I'd have had to yield to him."
This fat man was clearly trying to salvage things now.
Earlier, he'd thought that the young Hidden Officer, managing to trick Ning Yao into being his dao partner, must be a silver-tongued player, someone with a weak stomach who couldn't eat roughage.
But hearing about these huge disturbances in the inner Barbarian Wilderness, Gusu connected them with that conversation between Zhong Kui and the great demon Wu Ti. The fat man knew with his ass who had done this string of deeds.
Even if Chen Ping'an hadn't personally wielded the sword, he had at least been the leader. The credit was enormous. So Gusu immediately changed tack. "Such a hero, unseen in a thousand years! You must introduce us when we meet. Never mind calling each other brothers—even if I have to call him 'Big Brother,' I won't feel cheated."
Zhong Kui smiled. "You'll meet him soon."
Looking back at the street, Zhong Kui suddenly changed his mind. "Let's find a place to drink."
The fat man puffed out his chest. "Same rules—I pay!"
Zhong Kui looked at the fat man.
The fat man said reluctantly, "New rules: from now on, I always pay. But let's agree in advance—exclude visits to flower houses."
Otherwise, following Gusu's consistent principle, as a living man, don't be greedy for generosity; as a ghost, don't be greedy for magnanimity.
Zhong Kui smiled and asked, "I heard you've always treasured the 'Jade Slab Thirteen Lines'?"
The fat man turned his head and spat fiercely. "Which historian's heart has been blinded by lard? Spreading filth to ruin my reputation!"
Zhong Kui patted the fat man's shoulder. "If you don't have it, I suggest you avoid meeting my friend. Take care—he holds grudges."
Beside him, the fat man's eyeballs darted rapidly as he weighed pros and cons.
Zhong Kui walked toward a roadside tavern. After sitting down, he began drinking in silence.
Smart people are willing to do foolish things. Good people can accomplish great deeds.
What is a chivalrous swordsman? Someone with a Jianghu flowing in their blood.
Joyful tonight—we have guests, we have wine. Take advantage of this day of clear wind and bright moonlight.
---
The night was deep. At the mountain gate of Pishan Yuncao Hall, Chen Ping'an identified himself to the two gatekeeping cultivators.
But unlike last time, he now had an additional identity: Xiandu Mountain.
The gatekeepers had apparently been informed in advance. They only knew of "Cao Mo," so they asked Immortal Master Cao to wait while they immediately sent word via a folded-paper green bird talisman.
Xiao Mo glanced at it. It looked familiar. This Pishan secret transmission talisman depicted a woman riding a green bird.
Soon, two people hurried to the mountain gate to welcome Chen Ping'an and his party of honored guests.
Xue Huai, a Far Travel Realm martial artist. This old man had a gaunt, refined appearance, with a scholarly demeanor. He wore a silk headband, ethereal and ancient in spirit.
Thus, though a martial arts master, he was respectfully called Scholar Xue beyond the mountain.
Xue Huai was accompanied by an old Nascent Soul cultivator with an immortal air, holding a whisk.
Last time, when guarding the dao for others during their travels, Xue Huai had already met Cao Mo and Zheng Qian at Yellow Crane Pier in Cloud Cauldron Blessed Land.
As one of Ye Yunyun's personal disciples, Xue Huai, along with the chief retainer Lu Ying of Golden Summit Temple, had served as guardians for a group of young people.
Back then, Master Ye Yunyun had wanted to challenge Cao Mo to a fist match, but Cao Mo had claimed to be a junior and declined.
According to what his master said afterward, Jiang Shangzhen said that his friend Cao Mo had refused three times in succession.
But since the other party was Zheng Qian's master, Xue Huai wouldn't think Cao Mo was being pretentious.
Let alone the fact that the other party had personally trained an outstanding disciple capable of killing countless demons and saving many on the battlefields of both Golden Armor Continent and Vase Bottle Continent, and who had also challenged Cao Ci to four fist matches. Even Xue Huai himself, though a Far Travel Realm martial artist, didn't think he could accomplish what another person's disciple had. Just the matter of challenging Cao Ci to a fist match—he suspected Cao Ci probably wouldn't even bother to make a move.
On his way down the mountain, covering ground with Far Travel, Xue Huai had actually spotted Cao Qinglang at first glance, as well as Xiao Mo carrying his walking stick.
Xue Huai cupped his hands apologetically. "Immortal Master Cao, my master has gone traveling with a friend and is not on the mountain. But she's not too far away. The Patriarch Hall has already sent a flying sword message; she can return to Pishan within an hour at most."
The old Nascent Soul immortal master brushed his whisk, made a formal salute, and said respectfully, "Tan Rong. 'Tan' as in ancient wood, 'Rong' as in abundant water. I now serve as Pishan's Law Keeper. Greetings, Immortal Master Cao."
It wasn't that the old immortal master was easygoing and gave grand salutes to everyone. In fact, within Pishan's Patriarch Hall, Tan Rong was notoriously difficult—the one who wasn't easy to deal with. Since the family head and peak master Yellow-Robed Yun didn't handle affairs, Tan Rong had to set the rules and play the villain.
Moreover, law-keeping patriarchs of immortal mountains and sects across the world were rarely good-tempered.
It was just that their Pishan genuinely owed this age-defying Immortal Master Cao a huge favor. Earlier, a direct disciple of Lu Yong from Qinghu Palace had personally visited Pishan, delivering two whole furnaces of Feather-Robe Pills without charging a single immortal coin.
According to the peak master, it was this Immortal Master Cao who had helped connect Pishan with Qinghu Palace.
Chen Ping'an cupped his hands with a smile. "I've long heard that Law Keeper Tan is a great master of epigraphy in the mountains, with a collection of a thousand seal rubbing editions and ten thousand seal stamps. As a junior, I naturally must take this opportunity to visit Law Keeper's Thousand Gold Ten Thousand Stone Studio."
"Immortal Master Cao shares this interest as well?"
Tan Rong's smile deepened. This old Nascent Soul's greatest itch had two points. First, at the age of fifty, he had already become a "dual gold" direct disciple of Pishan's Patriarch Hall—both a Golden Core realm cultivator and a Golden Body realm martial artist. Hence, he had personally carved a pair of private book-collection seals. Second, his collection of seal impressions and seal stamps was extremely abundant.
Tan Rong led the guests from Xiandu Mountain, all riding the wind together to Pishan's guest-receiving area, located on the sea of clouds beyond the cliff near the peak's Patriarch Hall.
Only when entertaining honored guests would Yuncao Hall select this place. Amidst the white clouds stood a lush ancient tree that covered several acres in shade, surrounded by a circle of white jade railings.
Yuncao Hall disciples, regardless of gender, were remarkably talented. Almost all were proficient in zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Much credit went to this place.
Along the way, as they talked with Immortal Master Cao, Tan Rong had a delightful conversation. Initially, he thought the discussion of epigraphy was just polite talk to build rapport without cost. But as they spoke, they grew more compatible. When it came to certain little-known seal rubbings, the other's critiques were often spot-on and insightful—clearly the words of an expert who hadn't just crammed a few seal books before coming up the mountain.
Xiao Mo understood another principle: having eighteen martial arts skills at one's disposal meant nothing would be wasted; there would always be a time of use.
Pei Qian shot a sidelong glance at someone, as if saying, "My master knows that. Do you? How can you be the esteemed disciple?"
Cao Qinglang was helpless. For no reason, he felt nostalgic for their Junior Sister Guo.
If Guo Zhujiu were here, the one with the biggest headache would be Pei Qian.
Whenever flowers bloomed on that ancient tree, with each blossom, a delicate and lovely maiden appeared among them. They were flower, grass, and wood spirits that had successfully refined their forms.
This unique immortal spectacle, unparalleled in the mountains, not only consumed considerable heaven-and-earth spiritual energy but could not be seen by just anyone, not even Tan Rong or Xue Huai. The successive heads of Pishan had always treated those little ones with respect, not disturbing their pure cultivation. So the little ones had considerable tempers, often slacking off. If flowers bloomed and they just lay there motionless, there would be embarrassment. Such awkward situations had occurred before. One couldn't scold them, and beating was out of the question. What could be done? Last time when two honored guests had visited—Old Sect Leader Xun Yuan of Jade Gui Sect, leading the new sect leader Jiang Shangzhen—they had jointly visited Pishan.
Last time, when flowers bloomed, there was endless cursing. Many spirits, some hands on hips, some stomping their feet, spat at Jiang Shangzhen.
That irreverent new sect leader had run around, cupping his hands to catch that "rain," shamelessly thanking them repeatedly.
He even left with a line: "Good rain knows its season; encountering me, it occurs."
Such honored guests—better they come rarely.
So before descending the mountain, Tan Rong had specially come here to inform them in advance. He even had to lie against his conscience, saying that among this batch of honored guests, that Cao Mo, though bearing the title of Jade Gui Sect's lowest-level guest elder, had not even half a copper coin's relationship with Jiang Shangzhen. The old law keeper, afraid of making things worse, had then solemnly mentioned the matter of the two furnaces of Qinghu Palace Meditation-Forgetting Pills and the deeds of that "Zheng Qian." The little spirits' expressions then became attentive, and they were filled with anticipation early on.
White clouds lay spread like a carpet on the ground, bright as day.
By the dozen-plus white jade stools arranged like a constellation, after Tan Rong and the guests had taken their seats, the old immortal master took out a bronze chime, colored like green jade, from his sleeve. He tapped it three times with his finger—clear, melodious, and far-reaching.
On the tree, flowers bloomed in succession from high to low. The women within the blossoms—some graceful with sinuous dancing, some playing zithers or blowing flutes—sang ancient ballads in old tongues. Their forms were about a finger tall, all with immortal eyebrows, ancient coiled hair buns, cloud-and-rainbow clothing, long wide sleeves and skirts. Fragrance circulated around, the scene enchanting and ethereal.
When the spectacle ended, Chen Ping'an stood and cupped his fists in thanks to the immortals residing in the ancient tree. Xiao Mo and the other two naturally followed suit.
Among them was a miniature woman, wearing a suspended white jade spirit seal and an ancient Supreme Perfection Crown on her head. Her eyes wandered with a captivating glance, her divine bearing clear and spirited. She took a few steps, stood beside a petal, and asked, "Immortal Master Cao, I hear from Law Keeper Tan that you come from Jade Gui Sect? Do you recognize that battle-glorious Old Sect Leader Jiang?"
Tan Rong immediately grew worried, but this sort of thing was not something he could caution Cao Mo about with a mental message.
Chen Ping'an, however, understood immediately. When traveling away from home, especially in front of women, who would say they were friends with Jiang Shangzhen? Only a fool would. So he unhesitatingly shook his head and smiled. "Cao Mo is merely a worthless guest elder of Jade Gui Sect. How could I have the fortune to know Old Sect Leader Jiang? I couldn't possibly aspire to such heights."
In my Fallen Mountain, there is only Chief Zhou Fei, never any Jiang Shangzhen.
The woman seemed skeptical but ultimately just clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Men, oh."
She didn't press further.
Pishan's wine was even more famous than its Cloud Mist tea, known in the mountains as Little Hundred-Flower Brew.
It was only given as gifts, never sold, and Pishan wasn't short of money.
With over seventy mountain and water rent incomes beyond Pishan itself, the patriarch in charge of Pishan's finances had always had the easiest job. In a previous Patriarch Hall meeting after the great battle, when discussing the collection of rents from various places, Ye Yunyun's words on the matter were succinct: just two words—"Forget it."
Ye Yunyun generally didn't involve herself in specific mundane affairs. She was a hands-off boss when it came to earning and spending money. But whenever she appeared, she had always had the final say.
When the peak master spoke, there was no need for further discussion. Pishan quickly sent word: whether famous mountains, great rivers, lakes, or temples—as long as they were legitimate successors—all rents were waived for a hundred years.
While waiting for Ye Yunyun to return to the mountain, Tan Rong again thanked Immortal Master Cao for the two furnaces of Feather-Robe Pills.
If not for that old miser in charge of money who was now traveling around busily purchasing several new mountain peaks, he would have had to bow in thanks to this visiting Immortal Master Cao. Because several of that old man's personal disciples had each received a Feather-Robe Pill, either increasing their chances of breaking through or giving them a direction.
Chen Ping'an smiled, saying he had merely mentioned in passing that Pishan intended to purchase a furnace of Meditation-Forgetting Pills. He hadn't expected Qinghu Palace to send them—probably because Old Immortal Lu genuinely approved of Pishan's conduct. At most, they might have gotten a discount on price.
Tan Rong and Xue Huai knew the truth in their hearts, but since the other party chose to speak this way, it helped elevate Pishan's standing—ultimately, a face-saving matter.
The conversation drifted to Wu Shu's first disciple, Golden Body Realm martial artist Guo Bailu.
Xue Huai was unstinting in his praise of this junior, asserting that Guo Bailu's future martial arts achievements would be very high. A twenty-year-old Golden Body Realm, and crucially, having received the title of "Strongest" twice at such a young age—he had martial fortune on his side.
Chen Ping'an nodded and said that Guo Bailu's future was certainly limitless.
Pei Qian sat upright, expressionless.
Whether pure martial artists or mountain cultivators, all now agreed on one thing.
That was, led by Cao Ci of the Great Duan Dynasty, walking at the very front, he was far ahead on the martial path.
Behind Cao Ci, there were those like the Vase Bottle Continent's Zheng Qian before them, the Central Earth Divine Continent's Yu Juanfu, and similarly, the Tongye Continent's Guo Bailu—those who had received the title of "Strongest" in the last twenty years. They were considered the most valuable younger generation, having been the strongest in a particular realm across both the Haoran and Barbarian Wilderness Worlds.
Xue Huai hesitated for a moment but ultimately abandoned the idea of sparring fists with Zheng Qian. After all, they were honored guests, and it wouldn't be proper to fight before his master had met them.
Moreover, it would have been a fist match with no suspense regarding the outcome.
Xue Huai genuinely didn't think he could last twenty moves against Zheng Qian.
Whether he could survive ten moves—that would require trying to know.
After the pleasantries were exhausted and several rounds of wine had passed, the peak master still hadn't returned to Pishan, later than expected. Tan Rong had no choice but to lead Immortal Master Cao and his party to his own Thousand Gold Ten Thousand Stone Studio.
Ordinary guests would never set foot here. His treasured seals were like heroes looking at the sky with contempt. Books were like beauties—why throw seductive glances at the blind?
When the Pishan Law Keeper mentioned the Hundred Sword Immortal Seal Collection and the Two Hundred Sword Immortal Seal Collection, which he had yet to collect, he expressed deep regret.
He said he had already informed the managers of two foreign cross-continent ferries. They must help him purchase them at great expense from that mountain peak in Kaiwei Continent, including the shipping costs. Whatever the price, it was fine.
One of the old ferry managers who had been to Hanging Peak would always say "new Hidden Officer" when mentioning the young Hidden Officer of the Sword Qi Great Wall, never "last Hidden Officer." That old manager's eyebrows would dance as he spoke, saying that although he hadn't been able to discuss face to face with the new Hidden Officer, when he later sat in Spring Banners Studio at Hanging Peak, his chair was only two chairs away from the Hidden Officer's throne! After the meeting with Shao Yunyan, Sword Immortal Yan, and Nalan Huan Cai, he had touched the back of that chair, soaking up some immortal aura. "Don't laugh, Law Keeper Tan. I was just a bit slow getting up—couldn't outpace that shameless group of peers—and I ended up having to queue!"
This spray of spittle left Pishan's Law Keeper unsure whether to laugh or cry. Of course, he knew of the Sword Qi Great Wall, but there wasn't much more information beyond that.
Tongye Continent had never been one to concern itself with affairs of the world or other continents.
But since he needed something from the other party, Tan Rong could only put on a show, nodding with a smile. When the other said "don't laugh," the old law keeper had to put on a straight face and stop smiling.
Finally, the old manager started bragging without restraint. "If you'd asked for those two seal collections earlier, I could have negotiated with the new Hidden Officer. Might even have gotten them for free."
What else could Tan Rong do at that point but continue nodding in agreement?
At that moment, the old immortal master did not notice that besides the composed Immortal Master Cao beside him, the other three guests had all developed peculiar expressions.
---
At the edge of Pishan territory, within a Water God Temple at the source of the Pei River, in a quiet room, a woman in yellow was drinking tea with two friends. It was that Old Cong Narcissus tea imported to their continent from Vase Bottle Continent. She drank it with a furrowed brow. Even using first-grade Pei River spring water to brew it, the flavor was like this. Who set the price? They must be blind with love for money