Chapter 929: Borrowing a Thousand Mountains and Rivers from All of You (10)

Chapter 929: Borrowing a Thousand Mountains and Rivers from All of You (10)

In the central region of Bottle Gourd Continent, there stood a magnificent royal-style mansion, the Mansion of the Spring Marquis of the Great River, also known as the Azure Sky Palace.

Within the water administration, numerous plaques hung, including one bestowed by the Academy Chief of Lake-View Academy, inscribed with "Eternal Merit," a personal calligraphy from the head of the Cloud Forest Jiang Clan saying "Poetry and Etiquette Accompany the Family," and another from the Forest Deer Academy reading "Divine Capital's Shield."

Even Liu Qingfeng, the former Minister of Rites of the Great Li Secondary Capital, had made a rare exception during his lifetime, presenting a piece of calligraphy—four large characters reading "Plow in Sunshine, Read in Rain," written with immense vigor.

On the land of Bottle Gourd Continent, Yang Hua, who had been enfeoffed as a Marquis by the Confucian Temple, was now the undisputed foremost Water God.

Chen Ping'an did not go directly to find Yang Hua.

There was no helping it; this female marquis of the great river was extremely meticulous, and he still needed to have the gatekeeper announce him.

However, if anyone had followed this entire series of dreamlike wanderings from start to finish, they would have noticed that the dreams Chen Ping'an had constructed were getting closer and closer to the truth.

Chen Ping'an stepped up the stairs and walked toward the gatekeeper.

He had heard that Yang Hua's first order upon taking office was to decree that all landscape officials under her jurisdiction were forbidden to come and congratulate her. Therefore, not only had many low-ranking mountain-and-water spirits under the marquis's domain never seen her true face, but even the regular river gods of equal rank, along with the City Gods of the southern prefectures of Great Li, had yet to meet Yang Hua in person.

Compare that to our own Lord Wei, who was far more "approachable" in this regard. Even the county city gods, local land gods, and river goddesses had been fortunate enough to see their own mountain lord in person during the Night Travel Banquets.

Earlier, Chen Ping'an had sent a letter to Yang Hua through Dou Yan, the Mountain God of Dieyun Ridge. He believed that with Yang Hua's meticulous nature, unless something unexpected happened, she should have already visited the former sites of Dieyun Ridge and Tiaobo River, most likely in disguise. He trusted that Mountain God Dou Yan's meddlesome nature and River Lord Cen's water-management skills would not necessarily make Yang Hua ecstatic to discover that within her jurisdiction there were two such "hidden pearls," but at least she would not be disappointed.

The gatekeeper was an old cultivator at the Lake-Gazing Realm, neatly dressed, wearing a Dharma robe said to have been woven and refined by the Colored Bird Manor in Northern Julu Continent. Such robes had almost become the standard official attire in the Great Li landscape bureaucracy.

"At the prime minister's gate, the doorkeeper holds the rank of a third-grade official," yet the old gatekeeper still maintained a kind expression, taking the initiative to step out and receive the guest. When he heard the visitor claim to be Chen Ping'an of the Fallen Mountain, he couldn't help blurting out, "Who?!"

This was indeed a breach of etiquette, a rather undignified outburst. With the old gatekeeper's seasoned experience, he shouldn't have made such a mistake, but the news his ears had received was simply too shocking. The man before him was alone, visiting the marquis's mansion unaccompanied, and there had been no brilliant streak of sword light heralding his arrival from the sky. He didn't seem like a Sword Immortal at all.

Chen Ping'an could only smile and announce his identity again.

The old gatekeeper immediately broke out in a sweat on his forehead. Without daring to utter another word, he steeled himself and asked, "Lord Hidden Dragon, may I announce you?"

He did not address the visitor as "Mountain Master" or "Sword Immortal Chen." Instead, the old man directly used the title he considered weightiest in his heart.

He wanted to let him in right away, but the marquis's mansion had strict rules. In recent years, the old gatekeeper had turned away countless distinguished guests. Earlier, even the Grand City God of the Great Li Secondary Capital had come to discuss official business. After careful consideration, the gatekeeper had thought it appropriate to let him in without announcement. But later, Madam Liu of the Ritual Department had scolded him harshly, saying he had no sense of propriety.

Chen Ping'an nodded with a smile. "Just follow the procedure."

The old gatekeeper's heart was uneasy as he stood with the Lord Hidden Dragon outside the mansion's threshold.

He was somewhat curious, wondering whether today the mansion would open the Ceremonial Gate to welcome the guest.

That was an honor reserved for Great Li monarchs and princes, or for the Five Great Mountain Lords of a continent.

But this young Sword Immortal, a native of Bottle Gourd Continent who had served as the final Hidden Dragon of the Sword Qi Great Wall, was a rare visitor. Besides, his master had been promoted from the position of Water God of the Iron Talisman River, which was practically a neighbor of Fallen Mountain.

It seemed that both publicly and privately, the mansion should open the Ceremonial Gate.

However, the one who came to greet the young Hidden Dragon was the deputy head of the Ritual Department and a Seal-Keeping Goddess from the mansion's Seal Office. The Spring Marquis Yang Hua did not appear in person. This fact made the gatekeeper feel somewhat guilty, and he became even more cautious, afraid to say a word.

From this, it was clear that first the spectacle at Sun Viewing Mountain, then the shocking revelation of the Hidden Dragon identity, which had spread across the continent overnight through official gazettes like a clear stream emerging from muddy waters, meant that now, in the landscape bureaucracy of Bottle Gourd Continent, the name "Chen Ping'an" was itself the most effective travel pass.

The Seal-Keeping Goddess first saluted Chen Ping'an in her capacity as a female official, then performed a curtsey, saying apologetically, "Mountain Master Chen, our master is currently hosting guests and cannot leave them for the moment. We ask for your understanding."

Chen Ping'an smiled and replied, "That's only natural. I came unannounced, so not being turned away at the door is already more than I could ask for."

The two goddesses of the mansion, who had not come from the old Iron Talisman River bureaucracy, both breathed sighs of relief in unison.

The Lord Hidden Dragon was not what they had imagined—an aloof, exalted figure. To be precise, he was far from it.

The three of them walked through corridors and passages, and halfway along, they encountered two more female officials from other departments in official robes. Judging by the insignia on their robes, they were likely the first or second in command of various water-administration offices.

They seemed to have been lying in ambush on the path, happening to pass by and then conveniently joining the group to head to the Ritual Department's reception hall. It was quite meticulous, leaving no room for criticism.

The female official from the Ritual Department glared at them. When she had received the gatekeeper's report and left her office, she had specifically warned the officials of the various departments not to act rashly. How could they still treat it so lightly?!

The Seal-Keeping Goddess could only use her mind voice to sternly remind them, "Since you're here, don't say a word from now on!"

If Madam Liu of the Ritual Department had been here today, you two would have been in for a world of trouble!

Similar to the Mansion of the Spiritual Source Duke in Northern Julu Continent, perhaps because the master of the mansion was a woman, there were many female officials, giving it an aura of Yin prevailing over Yang.

As they passed by the offices of various departments, heads appeared at doors and windows, but it was still quiet, no one daring to make a commotion.

They were all obviously curious about what the youngest sword cultivator to be inscribed on the Sword Qi Great Wall actually looked like—whether he had three heads and six arms.

Upon arriving at the main hall of the Ritual Department, the Seal-Keeping Goddess said softly, "We'll trouble you to wait a moment, Mountain Master Chen. The Marquis said earlier that he would need about half a stick of incense's time. It won't be a long wait."

A maidservant on duty soon brought Chen Ping'an a cup of tea. However, the official robe she wore gave her away; it was unlikely for an official of the rank of a Deputy Director in the six ministries of the imperial court to personally serve tea to guests.

Chen Ping'an thanked her and took the teacup. It was a Longquan celadon from his hometown, with the finest plum-green glaze. From the craftsmanship, it was clearly from a kiln near Baoxi. Chen Ping'an even knew which master potter had made this particular cup, or at least that it was the work of a close disciple trained by that master. But as he discreetly weighed the cup in his hand, he sighed. The old kilns near Baoxi traditionally used clay from the area around Huangmao Peak, but now they had started using soil from the Baxian Xian Ancient Road. This was the result of official kilns being converted to civilian ones.

An outsider sees the spectacle, an insider sees the craft. Even for a type of clay collectively called Purple Gold Clay, different mountains yield subtle differences in soil—varying in weight and stickiness. This leads to countless variations in the patterns on the fired porcelain. An outsider wouldn't notice the difference, but an insider would see it at a glance. For instance, the clay from Huangmao Peak was far superior to that from the Baxian Xian Ancient Road, but the yield of finished pieces from the kilns would be much lower. In the past, when porcelain was exclusively for imperial use, the kilns could disregard costs. But now that some had turned civilian and sold for profit, every broken defective piece was like breaking silver.

The Seal-Keeping Goddess signaled to the maidservant several times before the latter reluctantly left the hall.

Yang Hua appeared at the entrance of the Ritual Department hall, looking at the green-robed Sword Immortal inside who was leisurely drinking tea, sitting cross-legged with one leg over the other. His demeanor was relaxed, showing no sign of displeasure.

When Yang Hua crossed the threshold, Chen Ping'an merely set down his teacup.

The two female officials inside quickly bowed to Yang Hua and took their leave, hurrying away softly.

Yang Hua sat down in the chair opposite Chen Ping'an and asked bluntly, "Mountain Master Chen visits today—what instructions do you have?"

Chen Ping'an deliberately glossed over the word "again" and explained his purpose.

Seeing Yang Hua's hesitation, Chen Ping'an picked up his teacup again and said with a smile, "No need to be troubled. I'll leave after I finish my tea."

The words carried double meaning.

Yang Hua would most likely want to consult with the Empress Dowager, afraid to act independently, worried that getting too close to Chen Ping'an and Fallen Mountain would invite suspicion.

But if Yang Hua felt troubled, then that half-stick of incense was meaningless.

In Chen Ping'an's view, although Yang Hua had already become a duke or marquis of a great river, she still couldn't emerge from the shadow of being the Empress Dowager Nan Zan's maidservant, which could have serious consequences.

However, Chen Ping'an was an outsider on this matter, and too much advice might be counterproductive.

Sure enough, after drinking his tea, Chen Ping'an stood up.

But Yang Hua suddenly said, "That half-stick of incense is no problem for me."

Chen Ping'an was somewhat surprised but still cupped his hands in thanks.

Yang Hua, rare to see, managed a smile and returned the courtesy. "It's a mutually beneficial matter. Why should the Mountain Master thank me?"

From the moment he arrived today, except for when he first saw her and then sat there holding a teacup with his legs crossed, he had been quite courteous.

Then Yang Hua took the initiative to mention something: it turned out that the group of guests she had been receiving earlier were from the Green Plum Temple at Nantang Lake. Besides two female cultivators from the temple, there was also the Lake Lord of Nantang Lake, who was now an official under the Spring Marquis's administration. They had just left not long ago, accompanied by the Sword Immortal Shao Yunyan of the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect and Drunken-face Madam, who went by the alias "Plum Qingke."

On the travel pass, Drunken-face Madam had used the name "Plum Qingke" and the Dao name "Quxian."

Thus Chen Ping'an had to ask with a smile, "I'm in a hurry. If I leave the hall now and fly away by wind, the Marquis won't mind, will you?"

Yang Hua, not understanding what he meant, simply said it was fine.

In the corridor of the hall, the green-robed figure cupped his hands to Yang Hua in farewell, then transformed into a streak of sword light and vanished over thousands of miles in an instant.

After Yang Hua left the Ritual Department office, several goddesses returned one after another to the hall. The female official from the Ritual Department, who had posed as a maidservant to serve tea once and refill it once, raised her arm and giggled, saying that when she first saw the young Hidden Dragon, she had gotten goosebumps. Her immediate superior, the deputy head of the Ritual Department, laughed and called her a lovesick fool.

Catching up with a private ferry of the Green Plum Temple amidst the sea of clouds, a green robe with wide sleeves fluttered and landed at the bow.

Shao Yunyan detected the unusual ripple of Dao energy and, with a step of instant teleportation, arrived at the foredeck. He was quite surprised and cupped his hands in greeting, "Lord Hidden Dragon, how did you come?"

Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "Just a coincidence. You had just left, and I entered the mansion right after."

The Temple Master of Green Plum Temple was a middle-aged female cultivator, her hair white as frost and snow. Clearly, the forced relocation of her ancestral hall had severely damaged the foundation of her Dao. Besides practicing water methods, she also had a deep connection with the fate of Nantang Lake. For the female cultivators of the temple, moving elsewhere was just a relocation, but for her, it was a grievous blow to her vitality. Even though she hadn't fought against the demons, she had nearly fallen in realm.

Beside the woman stood Zhou Qionglin, a junior member of the temple and an expert in the art of mirror flowers and water moon. There was also a woman with a pale golden gaze, exuding abundant water energy.

Now, Nantang Lake's waters were full again, the plum blossoms were reblooming, and the landscape's energy had taken on a new look.

Chen Ping'an cupped his hands and said, "Greetings, Temple Master Song, Lake Lord Qin, and Fairy Zhou."

After exchanging pleasantries, Chen Ping'an said he only wanted to catch up with Sword Immortal Shao and wouldn't intrude on the Green Plum Temple any further.

It was obvious that the three from Nantang Lake were extremely nervous.

A man's reputation is like a tree's shadow.

Originally, being one of the ten under forty across several worlds was enough to shake people's hearts.

So when they heard that Mountain Master Chen would leave the ferry soon, they felt both regret and relief.

At Shao Yunyan's quarters, Shao asked if he wanted a drink. Chen Ping'an declined, saying he would leave after a few words.

Drunken-face Madam, however, sat upright, very proper, with her hands lightly clenched and placed on her knees, not daring to look sideways. She was as tense as if she were in the ancestral hall of the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect, discussing matters with the Sect Master, the old Sword Immortal Qi.

Chen Ping'an asked Shao Yunyan some questions about the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect and the situation in Southern Bodhi Continent, then said to Drunken-face Madam, "If possible, it might be best for you to change your Dao name."

Drunken-face Madam asked with a bitter face, "May I ask the Lord Hidden Dragon why?"

What's the matter? I just picked a nice, elegant Dao name for myself. Does it offend you? Or do you want me to take a rustic one before it sounds right to you? Don't you have too wide a jurisdiction?

Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "I'm just saying. There's a pure martial artist named Ma Quxian who recently fell in realm. Do you think that's unlucky or inauspicious? Of course, if you don't mind, then I care even less."

Drunken-face Madam sighed and lightly stamped her foot. How could she happen upon this?

Shao Yunyan, who paid more attention to matters in the Haoran world, asked, "Is that Ma Quxian, the senior disciple of Cao Ci?"

Chen Ping'an nodded, then took out a white bowl from his sleeve. He seemed to pick something up with two fingers. It was crystal clear like a pearl, radiating treasure light and filled with abundant water energy.

Shao Yunyan, who knew its value, asked with a smile, "What's this?"

Chen Ping'an explained, "Earlier, in some place in the Middle Earth Divine Continent, I encountered the great demon Yang Zhi. Consider this an extra bonus from a transaction."

Shao Yunyan was curious in his heart but joked, "Lord Hidden Dragon, what are you doing? 'One does not accept rewards without merit.' This trip was just a simple errand, hardly different from sightseeing. I don't practice water methods. Giving this to me would be a waste."

Drunken-face Madam, however, felt a headache coming on. Something that a former king-tier great demon had swallowed... actually... obediently spat out?

Our Lord Hidden Dragon really wields impressive authority.

Chen Ping'an glanced at Drunken-face Madam and said irritably, "Go and invite that Lake Lord Qin over. Remember, you are to *invite*."

When the female Lake Lord Qin of Nantang Lake arrived, she saw that the Hidden Dragon Chen and Sword Immortal Shao were already standing together at the entrance of the corridor, waiting for her.

On the table was a white bowl. Inside was a water droplet that, when Lake Lord Qin sat down, seemed to meet an old friend or see its former master, shimmering with treasure light that illuminated the entire room.

Actually, Chen Ping'an had originally not planned to do business with Lake Lord Qin, but the coincidence was too great to pass up—a fate not to be missed.

After hearing the proposal, Lake Lord Qin absolutely refused to accept the merit rewards, saying that recovering 80% of Nantang Lake's water was already an immense stroke of luck. Lighting a stick of incense was a trivial effort, and she would even be willing to build a living shrine for the Lord Hidden Dragon and enshrine him as a deity.

Her sincere words left Drunken-face Madam feeling complex. She never expected this quiet, taciturn lake lord—who rarely spoke—to turn out to be so... "Fallen Mountain" the moment she opened her mouth.

After the young Hidden Dragon left the ferry, Shao Yunyan smiled and reminded her, "Lake Lord Qin, take my advice. Forget about building a living shrine. Don't secretly worship tablets or burn incense every day either. The Lord Hidden Dragon is still a Confucian disciple, after all. It's against propriety."

Lake Lord Qin held the white bowl in both hands, not putting it away, and thought for a moment. "According to the Confucian Temple rules, as a lake lord permitted to establish an office, I can request a Confucian ritual vessel from a nearby academy. So, if I ask Lake-View Academy for a copy of a sacred book by the Sage Wen Sheng, it wouldn't cause trouble for the Lord Hidden Dragon, would it?"

Shao Yunyan showed an appreciative expression and nodded. "That's feasible."

Drunken-face Madam sighed with emotion. Lake Lord Qin, you must have trained on Fallen Mountain, haven't you?

Tiaobo River had now been officially renamed Old Fish Lake.

The former River Lord Cen Wenqian had also been smoothly promoted two grades, becoming a local Lake Lord, equal in rank to a regular river god, and had just obtained a proper seventh-grade official position.

Earlier, Cen Wenqian had accompanied the female Marquis Yang Hua on a trip to the Ministry of Public Works in the secondary capital, offering many suggestions for dredging the great river and certain "closure" projects, receiving excellent evaluations from the Great Li court. Now, she even held a temporary post as a second-rank secretary in the Water Ministry of the secondary capital, requiring her to report for duty at regular intervals. Through Yang Hua's personal recommendation and verification by the Ministry of Rites, her promotion to Lake Lord had been approved smoothly. There were many matters and bureaucratic hurdles, but it all moved very quickly.

This left Cen Wenqian deeply moved. In her former country's bureaucracy, the same process would have taken at least a year or two.

When she saw the green-robed Sword Immortal, they bowed and smiled at each other. Some things were understood without words.

Regarding the matter of the incense stick, Cen Wenqian agreed without hesitation. "Then I won't detain you, Mr. Chen."

To her surprise, Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "I still have time for a few drinks."

Cen Wenqian asked, "Then shall we go to Dieyun Ridge to mooch a meal?"

The wine brewed at the Mountain God Temple of Dieyun Ridge was quite famous.

Years ago, a certain Mr. Cui, a scholar, had visited specifically for the fish of Tiaobo River and the wine of Dieyun Ridge. Drinking wine and eating fish together was considered an unparalleled delight.

Chen Ping'an nodded. "Let's exploit the rich to help the poor."

At the Mountain God Shrine of Dieyun Ridge, the temple keeper quickly prepared a quiet room. Dou Yan stood at the door, smiling warmly, and hastened forward. The old immortal's expression was almost fawning. "Isn't this Sword Immortal Chen? I said earlier when I checked the almanac, why was today good for both travel and receiving guests? It turns out the honor is ours. Come, come, sit inside. Lake Lord Cen, how can you show up empty-handed? That won't do! Quick, send word to the Lake Lord's mansion to bring two large fish. I'll personally cook a home-style meal for Sword Immortal Chen today."

Thanks to his help in connecting Dieyun Ridge to the Azure Sky Palace, Marquis Yang Hua herself had visited this mountain, and Dou Yan had at least become a familiar face to the Marquis. Not only had he helped his old friend Cen Wenqian through a crisis, but she had also turned misfortune into fortune—the rerouting of the river, originally a disaster, had instead led to her promotion. Now, Cen Wenqian was even "making eyes" at the Marquis's mansion. For this, Dou Yan would not hesitate to bow and scrape, learning from those sycophants in officialdom, even calling Chen "Master Chen" or "Lord Chen."

Ordinary young people would never understand the difficulty of asking for favors. The bitter cold of poverty in summer, asking for help is like swallowing a three-foot sword. Those who can go through life without understanding these old truths are probably truly fortunate.

Originally, Dou Yan had been prepared to personally catch fish from the river, but Cen Wenqian, perhaps after several visits to the Great River Marquis's mansion and the Great Li secondary capital, had suddenly wised up. She asked them to wait and went to catch the fish herself.

Soon, a table full of food and wine was set. Dou Yan took off his apron, casually draped it over the back of a chair, proving that he had indeed cooked it himself.

Chen Ping'an picked up a piece of steamed perch, the unique apricot-blossom perch from Tiaobo River, and took a sip of wine, smacking his lips. He gave a thumbs-up and praised, "Eating fish and drinking wine, the taste is excellent. Truly worthy of its reputation."

Qing Tong, hidden somewhere, quietly reminded him, "If you keep lingering, this business deal will incur a loss."

Chen Ping'an's tarrying in the dreamscape of the River of Time itself consumed some merit.

"Working hard to make a deal, what for?"

Chen Ping'an replied with his mind voice, laughing, "Isn't it just so that when I want to drink, I have friends to share with, for as long as I want?"

Qing Tong had no choice but to continue waiting patiently.

Earlier, when you were drinking tea at the female marquis's mansion, you weren't so heroic.

Back then, Chen Ping'an was grumbling internally, looking like he was about to keep a mental ledger for Yang Hua, who had kept him waiting so long.

When Dou Yan learned that Fallen Mountain planned to establish a sub-sect on Tung Leaf Continent, he started probing, asking with a smile, "Are they really going to follow Bottle Gourd Continent's example and open a new great river? Can it actually be done?"

In the nine continents of the Haoran world, the Confucian Temple had three chief and deputy leaders, along with three Academy chancellors and vice-chancellors, who had each traveled to various continents, officially recognizing a total of sixteen great rivers.

Northern Julu Continent and Bottle Gourd Continent each had one, while Tung Leaf Continent had none. That was why, in the Peach Leaf Alliance, one agenda was to discuss jointly opening a great river, dredging the old waterways, and using the buried river as the main channel, connecting it to the sea. The female emperor Yao of the Great Spring Dynasty had likely considered this as well, which was why she was willing to meddle in these mountain affairs.

Of course, not all rivers flowing into the sea could be called "great rivers."

For example, the Phosphorus River on Tung Leaf Continent, including its tributaries, stretched for ten thousand miles, yet the River God's rank was only seventh-grade. Meanwhile, some water veins less than three or four thousand miles long could become great rivers.

The Confucian Temple had never publicly disclosed the specific criteria for renaming rivers, promoting them, or adding the suffix "great river."

Chen Ping'an nodded and smiled. "There is such a plan, but implementation is difficult. First, balancing the interests of all parties is extremely challenging. Lake Lord Cen is an expert in water management and knows the pitfalls best. Moreover, on Tung Leaf Continent, the academy chiefs of Great Fu, Heavenly Eye, and Five Streams—none of them dare to nod in approval. Even if they gave some hint as to whether this could be done, the academies would not provide it. Once the great river has a main channel, closures, diversions, rerouting—if all that effort fails to gain the Confucian Temple's recognition and the river never receives the 'great river' title, then for all involved—the Great Spring's Yao clan, the Golden Summit Temple in the north, the Pushan Cloud-Grass Hall, and all the other kingdoms, small states, and mountain immortal estates—it wouldn't be a loss of a few dozen or a few hundred Grain Rain Coins. It could easily amount to a total loss of over ten thousand Grain Rain Coins—a murky, irrecoverable debt. They'd all stagger back home, and trying to fill the holes in their respective treasuries would likely drive the various state finance ministers and mountain treasurers to resign en masse. Why bother when there's no hope?"

Dou Yan sighed.

Chen Ping'an raised his wine bowl and gently clinked it against the Mountain God's. "Why did you ask about this?"

Cen Wenqian was also curious. What did a great river on Tung Leaf Continent have to do with Dou Yan, a mere mountain god? So she teased him, "Worrying about the prime minister's affairs while holding a sesame-sized official post."

Friends often enjoyed debunking each other.

Dou Yan downed his wine in one gulp and told the truth. "Well, there's a medium-sized mountain sect on Tung Leaf Continent, one of the mountain forces in the Peach Leaf Alliance. It pulled strings all the way to our Bottle Gourd Continent, and somehow a mountain god friend of mine got involved. This fellow thinks it's a profitable opportunity, a way to make money. He asked me if I wanted to join in. We could pool some funds, and within two to three hundred years at most, we'd recoup our investment. Then we could just sit back and collect dividends every day, counting money. This good life could last seven or eight hundred years. According to that friend's rough calculation, we'd at least double our investment."

Cen Wenqian laughed angrily. "Are you two crazy for money?"

The recent reopening of great-river recognition by the Confucian Temple owed thanks to three people.

Wei She of Ice-Clad Continent; the Great Li National Teacher, Embroidery Tiger Cui Chan; and Yuan Pang of the Yasheng lineage, the youngest academy chief in Haoran history.

One had tirelessly campaigned for years on this matter. Although Wei She had not participated in the Confucian Temple deliberations, word had it that he had revived the old proposal and sent letters to the three temple leaders.

As for Cui Chan, he had said nothing, never even dealing with the Confucian Temple, just "acting on his own," "going his own way," and had gotten things done.

The emergence of Qi River became the best positive example, proving that a continent having a great river to gather water energy brought more benefits than drawbacks.

It was only after that that Yuan Pang officially raised the matter during the Confucian Temple deliberations.

In fact, Chen Ping'an also knew a secret. On that night boat, Chen Ping'an had met Yuan Pang, the young Heavenly Master of Dragon Tiger Mountain, the young monk, and their group. Besides verifying the latest subtle shifts in several weights and measures across the Haoran world, they had indeed made a special tour of the entire Qi River, which was one of the key inspection subjects.

Dou Yan poured himself another full bowl of wine, raised it toward someone, and smiled as he looked at the green-robed Sword Immortal, who was not to be judged by appearances. Lake Lord Cen, take a step back and cool off for a bit.

Lord Hidden Dragon, how about you give me a definitive answer?

If not, I'll advise my friend not to throw his immortal coins away. If yes, then my Dieyun Ridge will sell everything we have to raise funds.

Chen Ping'an poured some wine, swirled the bowl, and said with a smack, "This Dieyun Ridge wine isn't cheap, you know."

Cen Wenqian tapped the table with her wine bowl, reminding Dou Yan not to go too far. She glared. "Lord Dou, Mr. Chen has already said so much. Didn't you understand? Are you so used to being a mountain god that you can't understand plain human speech?"

Because Cen Wenqian could be certain that unless something unexpected happened, Tung Leaf Continent would not get a new great river. Mr. Chen's remarks just now had revealed the heavenly secrets, sealing the matter with a single blow.

The Peach Leaf Alliance involved just a few mountain and secular forces. How could they accomplish such a grand feat? That so-called agenda item was just a show, used to rally people.

The only possibility for Tung Leaf Continent to forge a great river would be if the Jade Pendant Sect led the way, and specifically, if Wei Ying showed up in person, willing to expend the sect's merit, and then pulled in wealthy powers like the Liu clan of Ice-Clad Continent, and possibly also the Great Li court to the north as an ally to divide the spoils.

Chen Ping'an thought for a moment and said, "Not just Brother Dou. If Mr. Cen has some spare cash on hand, you can also consider putting in a share."

Cen Wenqian was taken aback. The newly appointed Lake Lord was baffled.

Chen Ping'an continued, "Mountain God Dou, you must give me a guarantee. It's fine to borrow money from people, but don't say a single extra word, even to your colleague friend. If he presses you, just brush it off as a rumor you heard on the street. It's not reliable; it's up to him whether to believe it or not. Absolutely don't get drunk one day and spill everything about our conversation today to anyone."

Dou Yan nodded vigorously and laughed, "If I don't understand such official rules, I'd have wasted my time as the Mountain God of Dieyun Ridge."

Cen Wenqian asked curiously, "What do you mean?"

The other person gave her an answer with a smile. "I will make it happen."

Cen Wenqian was stunned into silence. It seemed unbelievable, yet she had to believe it.

The implication of this young Sword Immortal was crystal clear.

What the three academy chiefs dared not nod to, I can.

Cen Wenqian was silent for a long time. Then, when this Lake Lord spoke, she nearly made Dou Yan spray his wine.

"Mr. Chen, I've been short of money for a long time. You'll have to lend me some. Grain Rain Coins, of course."

Chen Ping'an had just picked up a piece of steamed perch with his chopsticks, hovering in mid-air. He said helplessly, "This plate of fish is really not cheap."

Finally, after Chen Ping'an left Dieyun Ridge.

Dou Yan wondered, "Strange. I keep having this weird feeling. It doesn't make sense."

Cen Wenqian smiled. "You feel like even though we were drinking at the same table, it seems like a different world?"

Dou Yan slapped the table. "Hit the nail on the head! That's exactly it! Wenqian, are we dreaming?"

Cen Wenqian asked with a smile, "Want to verify whether it's real or not? Simple. Stick your face out and I'll slap you."

Dou Yan laughed and cursed a few times. Then, sobering up, he asked softly, "All these good things happening to us—they stem from that scholar surnamed Cui back then, don't they?"

Cen Wenqian nodded.

Dou Yan was silent for a long time, finally managing a good word: "This fellow surnamed Chen is very sentimental indeed."

---

Book Brief Lake had recently seen its first Lake Lord.

For the True Realm Sect, whose jurisdiction encompassed the entire lake, this was not a good thing.

It wasn't just about having a piece of the pie taken away; it was like having an extra bed right next to yours.

The new Lake Lord, according to the Confucian Temple's latest jade-and-gold hierarchy division, held a high rank of third grade, equivalent to the Water God of the Great Li Iron Talisman River and the former Lord of Qiantang.

In this matter, even the local registered cultivators of Bottle Gourd Continent, who were usually just spectators, felt some sympathy for the True Realm Sect. The Great Li court seemed to have a clear tendency to burn bridges after crossing the river.

It was said that the one who had single-handedly promoted this matter was the old Minister Liu Qingfeng, who had since died of illness in office.

One could only wonder how the current, third Sect Master of the True Realm Sect, Liu Laocheng of Willow Island, felt about it.

Would the Jade Pendant Sect harbor resentment over this, creating rifts with the Great Li Song clan?

Anyway, in recent months, on the True Realm Sect's territory and in the cities around Book Brief Lake, the atmosphere had been somewhat eerie, as if even the shouting over drinking games had become much quieter.

In the territory of Falconfall Mountain, there was a small sect established only a few years ago. Its sect master was an old cultivator from a casual cultivation background named Zhang Ye.

The changes at Book Brief Lake were like a brewing rainstorm. The larger your door, the more courtyards you have, the more raindrops you get. For those with smaller doors, it didn't matter much.

Almost every year, an old friend would come to visit Zhang Ye.

The female island master of Plain Scale Island, Tian Hujun, the senior disciple of Liu Zhimao, was a native Golden Core Earth Immortal of Book Brief Lake.

She had come here today as well, but like her master, she had used a concealment spell, because the person they were meeting was Zhang Yan.

Among the cultivators of Green Gorge Island, Zhang Yan, who served as the head of the Fishing Hall, was the earliest follower of Liu Zhimao—a "meritorious minister in the founding," without equal.

Without Zhang Yan, who had no background as a registered cultivator, there might not have been the River-Cutting True Lord, let alone the current Chief Supplicant of the True Realm Sect.

Zhang Yan was in a small room with his old master Liu Zhimao and Tian Hujun, the three sitting around a brazier. Zhang Yan was drinking a bowl of Crow Cry Wine from Pond Water City. This immortal brew was terribly expensive. He wouldn't take it out for ordinary guests. A small household had to be careful with money everywhere; the sect could not afford to be wasteful. The disciples' cultivation, their life-bound spiritual tools, daily medicinal meals, and occasional social obligations with neighboring immortal estates on Falconfall Mountain—none of these came without immortal coin expenses.

Although it was a bit shabby, life was fulfilling. Zhang Yan didn't even consider it bitter joy.

The last time he had felt this way was many years ago, when he first met Liu Zhimao.

One was ambitious, the other had lofty aspirations. Two paupers starting from scratch, they used to dream about the future together.

Zhang Yan held his wine bowl, picked up a peanut, and tossed it into his mouth. "What's the background of this new Lake Lord? How come there's no official news at all?"

Liu Zhimao sneered. "The Sect Master of the Langhuan Sect, Zhang Ye—formerly the second-in-command of Green Gorge Island, the wild cultivator of Book Brief Lake who was second only to the top, Zhang Yan—ends up on Falconfall Mountain, renting and buying a tiny plot of land from some Dragon Gate Realm cultivator. Tell me, Sect Master Zhang, what official connections do you have? Those landscape gazettes you have—you borrow them from the Falconfall Mountain cultivators, don't you?"

Zhang Yan took a few rice cakes from a plate, dipped them in fermented bean curd, and placed them on the iron grille above the fire to roast. "I prefer being the head of a chicken rather than the tail of a phoenix. Besides, my sect may be small, but I gave it a grand name. As for the expense of landscape gazettes, I'll save where I can. If I borrow them to read, the gazette won't lose any words. It's not like I'm losing anything."

The Langhuan Blessed Land on Flowing Sunset Continent and the Mandarin Duck Blessed Land on Golden Armor Continent were both famous excellent destinations across all nine continents of the Haoran world.

Having gotten such a steal to name his sect the Langhuan Sect, however, meant that Zhang Yan's sect would never be able to become a formal Zongmen unless it changed its name.

In recent years, whenever Zhang Yan went to Book Brief Lake, he would visit two places: the ghost cultivator Zeng Ye, whom he had personally "brought up the mountain and into cultivation"—that once-innocent, timid boy whom Zhang Yan had taken from Maoyue Island to Green Gorge Island, where he met an account-keeper, leading to all subsequent opportunities and encounters. The other was the former site of Hengbo Island, now just a stretch of water.

Zhang Yan always deliberately bypassed Green Gorge Island, clearly determined to draw a line with the past.

Liu Zhimao said, "The new Lake Lord, Xia Fan, is a ghost creature. I've heard he was originally a scout in the Great Li border army, having made significant battle merits before his death, leading a team to kill a Nascent Soul demon. Since taking office, he hasn't appeared much in public. We don't know his true character yet, but he's no pushover—a smiling tiger. Especially since he brought along a mysterious advisor named Wu Guanqi, who has no Dao name. Word is he's a casual cultivator. In my opinion, he's more likely a ruthless spy from the Great Li intelligence network. I heard from Liu Laocheng that Xia Fan managed to stand out among a host of heroic spirits to fill this huge vacancy, and the Great Li Empress Dowager had a hand in it behind the scenes."

Zhang Yan chuckled. "This kind of celestial combat, with all the fog and mystery—we little fishes feeding in the shallows can just watch the show."

Liu Zhimao laughed. "You are indeed much freer than I am."

Over the years, Liu Zhimao had repeatedly urged Zhang Yan to return to Book Brief Lake. Even if he didn't want to be a registered immortal master at the True Realm Sect, he could pick any of the vassal islands under Green Gorge Island's Hengbo Mansion, like Tian Hujun, and become an island master. He could still establish a sect there. Wouldn't that be better than hiding his name here, leading a bunch of barely qualified young cultivators and brats, dealing with chicken droppings and dog feces day in and day out?

If it were anyone else so ungrateful, not knowing what was good for them, Liu Zhimao would have slapped them to death long ago.

However, he had heard that this godforsaken piece of land had originally been recommended by that person.

And because Zhang Yan had named his sect this way, Liu Zhimao had privately invited a geomancer to survey the area, but the geomancer couldn't find any special quality.

Given Liu Zhimao's usual style, Falconfall Mountain could have changed owners long ago.

When he was a wild cultivator, it was one thing. Now that his status had changed, he had to be more magnanimous, just pay some money. But did the other party dare to ask for a high price?

Don't underestimate the Chief Supplicant of a Zongmen.

Liu Zhimao glanced sideways at his senior disciple. "Look at yourself, then look at others. They say comparing people drives you mad. Why aren't you dead yet?"

Tian Hujun, in this room, didn't even dare to drink heavily.

She was afraid of provoking her master's displeasure, which would make him settle old and new scores with her.

Hearing Liu Zhimao's murderous implication, Tian Hujun's face instantly turned pale.

The "others" the master referred to were, of course, the current Hidden Dragon.

Zhang Yan shook his head and smiled. "Tian Hujun isn't that bad. Is a Golden Core Earth Immortal worthless now?"

Liu Zhimao snorted. "Over on Tung Leaf Continent, it's very valuable. If our Earth Immortal went there, it wouldn't be hard to establish a sect."

Zhang Yan actually didn't have a bad impression of Tian Hujun, who had grown step by step. It was just that her Dao heart wasn't tough enough. As for malicious intent, she didn't have much. In the old days of Book Brief Lake, a cultivator who was empty in realm but not ruthless enough would find it hard to survive long. But times had changed. Now she was a registered cultivator of the True Realm Sect, only needing to cultivate well without too much scheming or dangerous battles. Her achievements could be promising.

This was probably like the account-keeper's joke back then: "Today's people can hardly explain tomorrow's affairs."

Followed by a heartfelt remark: "If you wake up one day and nothing has happened, that's a good time in the human world."

Zhang Yan gathered his thoughts and joked, "Your True Realm Sect has no real skills except for the world's highest frequency of changing sect masters. If you change again, shouldn't the next sect master be your turn?"

Jiang Shangzhen, Wei Ying, Liu Laocheng—the head seat of the ancestral hall hasn't even warmed up before it's time to switch.

Liu Zhimao, not hiding anything from his old friend, said, "Liu Laocheng did privately mention it to me, asking if I was interested. If I were, he would start planning now. When the time comes, he would recommend it to the upper sect, so we wouldn't have to scramble. It might be hard to get approval from the Jade Pendant Sect, since Wei Ying is no pushover. Just look at his Nine Chess Peak, which now has a new master. But I didn't agree."

To be honest, the three successive sect masters of the Jade Pendant Sect—from Xun Yuan to Jiang Shangzhen to the current Wei Ying—were all extremely formidable figures.

Zhang Yan was a bit surprised. He handed Liu Zhimao a golden-brown rice cake and gave one to Tian Hujun. "Why didn't you agree? The difference between being the top leader and the second-in-command is like heaven and earth."

Liu Zhimao took the rice cake and bit into it. "I've come to see it clearly. This registered cultivator status is like a piece of clothing you can't take off once you put it on. Others see it as warm, but you find it hot. If you try to force it off, you'll take the skin with it. As long as I'm just the Chief Supplicant, there might still be a way out later. But if I succeed as sect master, I'll have to walk that dark path to the end."

It was far different from being a carefree wilderness cultivator who could act without restraint, holding great power and the authority of life and death.

In the old Book Brief Lake, if anyone wanted to climb up, they had to wade through a river of blood. Back then, any island master, big or small, had bones under their feet as stepping stones.

Now?

Now it's all about the cultivator's own realm.

Or connections and teacher lineage.

In short, don't take the realms in a Zongmen too seriously.

Take that little girl Zhou Caizhen on Willow Island. What cultivation aptitude did she have? Yet Li Fuqu treated her like her own child, even more than a direct disciple. Even Sect Master Liu Laocheng had to be kind and gentle when he saw her.

And Li Fuqu's new disciple, Guo Chunxi, from a small place called Immortal Roaming County. He had been a half-baked pure martial artist, a Qi Refining Realm cultivator at the third level only because of immortal coins. Could he even reach the Cavern Dwelling Realm? Did Li Fuqu really want to take him as a direct disciple? It was just a hot potato Jiang Shangzhen had thrown at her. Li Fuqu didn't dare to slack off, had to put in effort.

By the same token, Li Fuqu, as the second-ranking Supplicant, wouldn't dare to fart in front of Jiang Shangzhen. But if she casually hinted at something to other members of the True Realm Sect's ancestral hall, who would dare to disregard it?

And that lucky fool Zeng Ye—where did he get that secret manual? How did others praise him: "Can open a new gate for the ghost path"?

Did it fall from the sky? More or less, since Jiang Shangzhen had casually tossed it to Zeng Ye, who had picked it up while taking a walk.

Zhang Yan glanced at his old friend and nodded. "I understand."

Liu Zhimao's peripheral vision caught his senior disciple happily munching on her rice cake.

Damn it. A completely useless waste.

It nearly angered the River-Cutting True Lord to death. He almost couldn't help slapping her across the face.

Actually, Liu Zhimao's words carried two meanings.

One, Liu Laocheng had reached the Immortal Realm only a few years ago but was confident he could go further and seek that legendary Flying Ascension Realm!

Otherwise, why would Liu Laocheng flatter Liu Zhimao so much? Wasn't it just because he wanted to become a comfortable retired emperor of the True Realm Sect in the future?

Two, the "way out" Liu Zhimao mentioned—Tian Hujun couldn't understand it, but Zhang Yan got it at once. It referred to the next time the Colorful Heaven would reopen its gates.

Liu Zhimao was highly likely to go there and establish his own sect! To be the founding patriarch of a sect, not some fourth-rate sect master of a subsidiary sect.

This was truly possible, and he wouldn't even have to fall out with the Jade Pendant Sect. Losing a Chief Supplicant of a subsidiary sect but gaining an ally on the mountain who had established a sect in the Colorful Heaven. Although reopening and reclosing the gates would require at least a Flying Ascension cultivator to cross between worlds, things in the world are unpredictable. What if Liu Zhimao managed to break through to the Flying Ascension Realm? What if the Confucian Temple suddenly changed its mind and wanted to maintain long-term trade with the Colorful Heaven, like the tea-and-horse trade on the borders of secular dynasties?

Tian Hujun clearly sensed her master's displeasure but had no idea where she had gone wrong. She felt deeply aggrieved but dared not show it, only lowering her head to nibble on the rice cake, which tasted like wax.

Zhang Yan recalled an interesting tale and said with a smile, "I heard that eccentric figure who's been wandering around Pond Water City for years has now become a hanger-on in the Lake Lord's mansion. What's his background? Is it true, as the old saying goes: 'Eccentrics often hide among butchers and wine sellers'?"

Some years ago, a strange outlander with an unstable level of cultivation came to Pond Water City. He could play an iron flute, had a peculiar temperament—sometimes wearing bright red wide-sleeved robes like a noble son, wearing a flower in his hair, walking alone with an arrogant air; other times dressed in rags like a beggar, accosting people on the street to beg. If someone gave him money, he would tell their fortune. Whether they agreed or not, he would chase after them and spout a few lines that sounded like prophecies.

Liu Zhimao snorted. "Just an old Golden Core cultivator with some crude physiognomy. Likes to play tricks, can fool common folk. On the surface, he's informal, but deep down, he's exactly the kind of sour scholar you despise most—obsessed with establishing a proper manner for everything. If someone with him bows to a field laborer or a night-soil collector, he'll say, 'Even my face loses its luster.'"

At that point, Liu Zhimao took a gulp of wine. "You people who've read a few books—whether cursing yourself or others—always manage to say things that disgust people."

Zhang Yan finished his bowl of wine, shook the jug—there wasn't much left—and poured the last bowl. He sighed for no particular reason. "Life is not about reading books and admiring paintings. In paintings, you see towering mountains, but you don't know the real hardship of travelers climbing them. It's like the bitter poverty and melancholy in poetry; while it makes good verses, the one experiencing it suffers greatly."

"That's the reasoning, but it sounds awkward."

Liu Zhimao nodded. "Zhang Yan, to be honest, you've been a registered cultivator your whole life. Even when you followed me to create Green Gorge Island and build a large estate, you never had a single day as a wilderness cultivator."

Zhang Yan smiled and countered, "What about you? Now that you're a Chief Supplicant of a sect, have you ever had a single day as a registered immortal master?"

Liu Zhimao was speechless.

Zhang Yan raised his wine bowl. "Outside the house, infinite worldly affairs; let us first finish the limited wine before us."

Liu Zhimao lightly clinked his bowl against it. "You old rascal, you're getting addicted to showing off your literary flair."

Zhang Yan downed the wine and asked, "Aren't you going back to Green Gorge Island's Hengbo Mansion for the New Year's Eve dinner? Or do you plan to keep vigil with me here?"

Liu Zhimao smiled. "Why not?"

Zhang Yan waved his hand. "Forget it. I have a proper New Year's Eve dinner here. If you two freeloaders show up, it'll probably lose all its flavor."

Liu Zhimao smiled and was about to get up and leave.

Indeed, he had long forgotten when was the last time he had a New Year's Eve dinner.

But just then, at the doorway, someone appeared without a trace, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his sleeves, grinning. "Chief Supplicant Liu has lofty aspirations! Already thinking about going to the Colorful Heaven. Truly far-sighted, a grand plan, a grand ambition."

Zhang Yan merely looked up and gave a sincere smile.

But Liu Zhimao broke out in a cold sweat in an instant. It was not so much fear of the person behind him as it was fear of that person being able to stand outside the house silently for so long.

If that person had delivered a sword strike, wouldn't everything have been over?

Tian Hujun could not hide her pale face, her Dao heart trembling uncontrollably.

However, Liu Zhimao quickly regained his composure and turned to look at the old acquaintance outside the door.

The first time they met, the other party was like a little ant toiling at his feet—whether to step on it or not depended entirely on his mood.

The second time they met, the other party had schemed and calculated, living under someone else's roof on Green Gorge Island, just barely able to drink with him as an equal.

The third time was at the Sun Viewing Mountain, where both were guests. The young mountain master of Fallen Mountain had already been able to lead him by the nose.

As for today.

Perhaps now, in the other's eyes, he, a Chief Supplicant of a sect and an Aperture Realm cultivator, was just an ant?

The mud-legged man from the alley. The account-keeper from Green Gorge Island. Mountain Master Chen of Fallen Mountain. The last Hidden Dragon of the Sword Qi Great Wall, the latest to be inscribed on the city wall.

Tian Hujun's state of mind differed from others.

The thing that filled her with the deepest dread wasn't those terrifying deeds and identities, but a "minor incident" that probably few knew.

The green-robed man before her, even if you set aside all his identities and achievements, was still someone who could slap Gu Can in front of everyone, and Gu Can would still sincerely smile at him.

Liu Zhimao stood up, turned around, and cupped his hands heavily with a hearty laugh. "Greetings to the Hidden Dragon!"

Zhang Yan stood up and smiled. "What a rare guest! Last time I sent a letter to Fallen Mountain about founding my sect, I still couldn't invite Account-keeper Chen. For this, I'll have to punish myself with a bowl."

Tian Hujun rose and steadied her Dao heart, saying softly, "Greetings, Mr. Chen."

Chen Ping'an pressed his hand down several times in the air, grinning. "All old friends in this room. No need for such formalities."

Even Zhang Yan waited until Chen Ping'an sat down first before taking his seat, let alone Chief Supplicant Liu and Earth Immortal Tian.

"Back then, I wasn't even on Fallen Mountain. How could you have invited me? It's not that I was putting on airs—I wouldn't put on airs with you, Brother Zhang."

Chen Ping'an actually downed a bowl of wine, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and said, "This Crow Cry Wine from Pond Water City is expensive, but there's nothing to complain about except the price."

Then he asked Zhang Yan about the Langhuan Sect. As a mountain master, he promised on behalf of Fallen Mountain that any Langhuan Sect disciple traveling abroad could visit Fallen Mountain. If there were promising pure martial artists, as long as Zhang Yan was willing, they could stay at Fallen Mountain for two or three years without issue, and someone would teach them boxing.

Liu Zhimao said helplessly, "I was hoping the Hidden Dragon would persuade him, but it seems that's not happening."

Chen Ping'an smiled. "There's a kind of strong person who lives a hard life earnestly, without complaining to heaven or blaming others."

Zhang Yan waved his hand. "It's just a frugal life, but I have food and clothing. It's not really a hard life."

Chen Ping'an smiled and said nothing.

Liu Zhimao laughed heartily.

Zhang Yan also laughed at himself, raised his wine bowl, and said, "Can't outtalk you. Drink, drink."

A certain truth is like a river. Another seemingly contradictory truth is just a tributary of that river.

Tian Hujun, after a moment of realization, carefully pondered and finally savored the aftertaste.

For a moment, she felt even more inferior. Everyone in the room seemed smarter than her. It was a terrible feeling.

Being out of place in a group only happens in two cases: either you're a crane among chickens, or a chicken among cranes.

Liu Zhimao asked tentatively, "Are you planning to meet the new Lake Lord?"

Chen Ping'an nodded. "Don't worry, I won't need the Chief Supplicant's introduction."

After another bowl of wine, Chen Ping'an took his leave, letting Zhang Yan see him to the door.

Zhang Yan said via mind voice, "If Liu Zhimao later asks you for help, considering my little bit of face, I hope you can help if you can. If you can't, then forget it."

The old cultivator added at the end, "At the very least, at least I beg you not to settle old scores with this fellow."

Chen Ping'an smiled and replied with a mind voice, "In the past, it was hard to explain a certain truth, not because that truth was small. Now it's easy to explain the same truth, not because that truth has become big."

Zhang Yan understood the subtlety and nodded. "Next time, I'll visit Fallen Mountain to drink with you."

Chen Ping'an reminded him, "Remember to notify Fallen Mountain in advance. It's not that I'm putting on airs; it's just that I often go out and may not be on the mountain."

Zhang Yan agreed with a smile.

Chen Ping'an finally teased, "Being a sect master, you sure have it easy."

Zhang Yan laughed. Now that he had a so-called mountain sect, every detail had to be carefully budgeted. To be honest, how many acres of good land the sect had leased and how many houses it had bought—he had to personally review them. Every autumn harvest, he even happily went to the fields to work. That scene was exactly like an old white-haired farmer standing tall among the fields like a crane.

As Zhang Yan expected, not long after they left the house, Liu Zhimao asked via mind voice, "I wonder about the current situation in the Colorful Heaven?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head and smiled. "The River-Cutting True Lord will know when he goes there."

Seeing that the other party was unwilling to say more, Liu Zhimao could only sigh. He had really just wanted to ask how many Upper Five Realm cultivators were there now. And of course, if he could build a connection with the Flying Ascension City, or more precisely, with the Summer Palace within the city, that would be even better. Now it seemed that if he actually went to the Colorful Heaven, as long as this young Hidden Dragon didn't trip him up or make things difficult behind his back, he should be burning incense in gratitude.

Chen Ping'an smiled and cupped his hands, then vanished in a flash.

Liu Zhimao concealed his form and took Tian Hujun with him as they flew back to Green Gorge Island.

Looking down at Book Brief Lake, one of the islands had willows by the water, soft and slender like a neighboring girl's waist.

The Lake Lord's water mansion was deep under the lake, at a place with excellent mountain roots and water veins. It was a series of buildings "built against the mountain," not extravagant but not shabby either.

The True Realm Sect had withdrawn from several nearby islands above the water. On one large island, a new Lake Lord shrine had been built, showing the sect's sincerity.

The new Lake Lord, Xia Fan, and his advisor, Wu Guanqi, were currently playing chess in a pavilion.

Xia Fan, appearing young, wore a blue-green dragon robe, which was not considered overstepping.

His opponent was a white-robed scholar of middle age, holding a folding fan in one hand and a chess piece in the other.

Xia Fan gently placed a stone on the board. "Should we test Liu Laocheng again?"

Wu Guanqi nodded. "Certainly, but we don't need to rush. First, regardless of the monk, there's the Buddha. The upper sect's Wei Ying has considerable ambition. Second, Liu Laocheng is an Immortal after all, and a former wild cultivator with qi fortune on his side, not to be underestimated. To crack a big situation, you don't need to use brute force. Just pick a small entry point and act delicately."

Xia Fan smiled. "Liu Laocheng is so cooperative that we can't seem to find an opportunity for a new broom to sweep clean."

As soon as he took office, Liu Laocheng had voluntarily visited and handed over the land deeds and islands without a word.

Xia Fan then asked, "Does Mr. Wu have a chance to contact Liu Zhimao and try to win him over?"

Wu Guanqi shook his head. "The Lake Lord's mansion simply can't offer Liu Zhimao what he wants. There's no need to humiliate ourselves and give the River-Cutting True Lord a good laugh."

After that, during the game, Xia Fan fell into long contemplation several times, while Wu Guanqi played each move swiftly.

However, neither of the players knew that standing next to the chessboard was a "true gentleman" who watched without speaking.

Qing Tong couldn't help but remind him again, "Why are you wasting time like this?"

Chen Ping'an, with his hands behind his back, watched the chess game on the table with a calm expression. "Not in a hurry. Let's wait until they finish."

After another dozen or so moves,

Chen Ping'an could see the outcome was set. He glanced at the folding fan in Wu Guanqi's hand. Earlier, this man had said Wei Ying was ambitious, but he himself wasn't bad. One side of the fan bore eight characters:

"In the midst of a hundred flowers, I am the Lord of Spring."

Suddenly, ripples spread. Wu Guanqi spoke before Lake Lord Xia Fan.

"Who?!"

"Me."

Wu Guanqi's expression changed slightly, clearly annoyed.

As for Lake Lord Xia Fan, he remained calm and even looked with interest at the green-robed man gradually revealing his form and features.

Once he saw the man's face clearly, Xia Fan immediately stood up and bowed. "Minor deity pays respects to the Hidden Dragon."

Wu Guanqi smiled slightly, closed his fan, and bowed with clasped hands. "Greetings, Sword Immortal Chen."

Chen Ping'an cupped his hands in return. "The current situation was hard-won. I earnestly request that Lake Lord Xia treasure it."

Xia Fan smiled and nodded. "To each his own duties—that is only natural."

Before revealing himself, Chen Ping'an had been almost certain that this visit would be in vain.

The new Lake Lord Xia Fan and his strategist Wu Guanqi were both clever people, especially the latter, who was meticulous.

Before coming here, Chen Ping'an had actually visited the Lake Lord's mansion offices, especially the archives. There were many secret records, such as those about Zeng Ye and Ma Duyi from Maoyue Island, both of whom were on the list. He had also flipped through many familiar names. The intelligence collection was exhaustive and fruitful.

It was the polar opposite of that "genius" from Water Dragon Peak of Sun Viewing Mountain.

Moreover, judging by the handwriting in those files, they all seemed to be from the same person.

Even Zhou Caizhen of Willow Island had quite a few records. There were also some speculations by the author, added later in different ink. For example, based on Jiang Shangzhen (alias Zhou Fei), the female Sword Immortal Li Cai of the Floating Brocade Sword Lake, and various bits of gossip, this person had inferred that the little girl Jiang Shangzhen doted on—raised almost as his own daughter—likely came from Northern Julu Continent.

Chen Ping'an didn't have much of an issue with this. As a water mansion advisor, Wu Guanqi was doing his duty, and no amount of caution was excessive.

How could Chen Ping'an not know the roots of Book Brief Lake's water mansion? He knew even more truths than Liu Zhimao. For instance, Xia Fan was personally selected by the Empress Dowager, his hometown and battlefield track record all clear. As for Wu Guanqi, Fallen Mountain knew relatively less about his background. He seemed to have once overseen the Great Li court's intelligence in the central part of the continent, a colleague of Li Baozhen.

Chen Ping'an turned to look at Wu Guanqi. "You don't agree with me in your heart?"

Wu Guanqi gave a rather interesting response. "I wouldn't dare."

The Sword Immortal of Fallen Mountain then gave an even more interesting response.

"I think you dare."

Wu Guanqi sneered. "Great Li has never had a precedent of convicting someone for their thoughts."

Chen Ping'an smiled. "That's because the position you've stood at hasn't been high enough. You don't know the true rules of my senior brother. The most profound part of practical learning was originally aimed at 'intention.' If you don't understand even that, you can't be a good account-keeper for the Lake Lord's water mansion."

Wu Guanqi fell silent.

Chen Ping'an chuckled. "Besides, what if one day I accidentally become the new National Teacher of Great Li and create a precedent just for you? How would you handle that? Wouldn't it be awkward? You can pick up face that's been thrown on the ground, but some words you spit out—how do you swallow them back, right?"

Wu Guanqi seemed about to speak, but his momentum had clearly weakened.

Chen Ping'an smiled and reached out to pat his shoulder. "So, young man, don't be too sharp. It's like carrying a lantern in broad daylight—you look like you're showing off. Learn to wander by candlelight at night."

Wu Guanqi, being called "young man" by a younger person, had a stiff expression. If this continued, his face would probably turn green.

Fortunately, the uninvited guest said his farewell and vanished.

The multiple layers of restrictions in the lake-bottom water mansion were completely useless.

In Pond Water City, there was a street called Ape Cry Street, several miles long, lined with shops.

Since it was New Year's Eve, almost all were closed. Chen Ping'an stopped in front of one shop, where he had once bought a bronze ancient sword named "Great Imitation Quhuang."

He walked another fifty or sixty steps and slowly sat down on the steps between two shops.

Once, a foreign wanderer disguised as a middle-aged man had also sat here for a while before going to look for trouble.

Qing Tong appeared beside him, still wearing a hood, her face unseen.

For some reason, Qing Tong felt that this sword cultivator seemed a little melancholy, but not that much—hardly heartbroken.

Like a drunkard craving wine but having no money, having to close the door and suffer in secret?

A few hot-headed, impulsive deeds in youth—a great drink to celebrate. The magnificent, immortal mountains and rivers for eternity—where is the romance?

Are all sword cultivators swordsmen?