Chapter 938: I Am the Host (8)
The old scholar at the gate made a bow and said, "Junior Lu Sheng pays respects to Sect Leader Lu."
They had reunited after a long separation—one calling him "Xi Zhou, my friend," the other calling himself "junior."
Because neither the scholar nor the Daoist had used heart-voice in their speech, the young woman heard everything clearly. Her brow instantly furrowed. "Sect Leader Lu?"
Sect Leader?
This young Daoist who boasted of having "immortal arts at his side"—was he actually a martial artist of the jianghu? Otherwise, which mountain sect dared to establish a "sect"?
If he were merely a pure martial artist, then the talisman on her shoulder weighed ten thousand jun, pinning her down. Could it be that his family background was deep and wealthy, and he had bought it with a heavy price from a mountain immortal?
Lu Chen's gaze shifted, landing on the young woman. He nodded and said, "Miss has good eyes—you guessed correctly. Aside from a few crude immortal arts that don't even merit mention, I am actually a martial artist who doesn't show his true colors. The term 'Great Grandmaster' was tailor-made for me."
The old scholar smiled knowingly upon hearing this. This Third Sect Leader of White Jade Capital had indeed once written an essay titled "Great Grandmaster," but as time passed, the term had evolved into an honorific for pure martial artists.
The old scholar stepped into the kitchen and sat opposite Lu Chen. An extra set of chopsticks and bowls had already been laid on the table, and even two wine flasks—clearly prepared to entertain this old friend met again in a foreign land.
Lu Chen asked with curiosity, "How could Old Sect Leader Jiang bear to let you leave Yunku Blessed Land?"
Lu Shi poured himself a bowl of wine and laughed. "I made an agreement with Jiang Shangzhen: I would come here to settle a karmic debt from a past life, then return to continue being the boatman."
In Yunku Blessed Land, he had gone by the alias Ni Yuanzan and made a living ferrying a boat.
In history, at Yellow Crane Cliff, one of the eighteen scenic spots of Yunku Blessed Land, a nameless ancient sword immortal had once drunk fine wine in a pavilion.
Finally, in a drunken stupor, he let out a burp and spat out a sword pellet. The sword light was like a rainbow, and on the river, he slashed a mosquito.
Back then, when Cui Dongshan and the old boatman were together on a small ferry boat, they had exchanged words and verbal sparring, each seeing through part of the other's "identity."
One was "the green ox alone pays respects to the Jasper Gate, yet leaves the yellow crane to guard the golden elixir," and his outer shell had been the relic of an ancient yellow crane once "famous high among the stars."
The other was the old dragon of the ancient Shu kingdom, "the star lord toasts fine wine, urging each dragon to drink a cup." The owner of that outer shell had once traveled far among the starry river and was toasted by the Big Dipper Immortal Lord.
The old boatman, who went by the alias Ni Yuanzan, had once, while drunk, slain a demon whose true form was a Jade Perfection Realm monster that even Jiang Shangzhen, when he was in that realm, could not handle. It fed on heaven and earth's spiritual qi, came and went without a trace, and was extremely hard to capture. Yet the old boatman, relying on his unique divine power and wondrous sword techniques, happened to have a path that suppressed that demon, and with one sword stroke he killed it, effectively erasing a major hidden threat for the Jiang clan of Yunku.
Lu Chen asked, "Master Xi Zhou, have you never seen that Miss Sui who stepped out of the painting? If I recall correctly, after Miss Sui became a direct disciple of True Realm Sect on Treasure Vase Continent, she cultivated for several years at the ancestral mountain of Jade Maiden Sect. She was only one step away from you, Master Xi Zhou. Why did you two, master and disciple, never meet? If you could renew the old karmic bond in the Haoran world and restore the master-disciple relationship, wouldn't that be a beautiful tale on the mountains?"
Lu Sheng shook his head. "That which belongs to a former life and the ties of a former body—let them stop in this life. Otherwise, the next life will be another messy account. When will it ever end?"
Lu Chen sighed and slapped the table in admiration. "Listening to your words is like being doused with enlightenment from the top of the head. How many dreamers on the mountains have been awakened!"
Lu Sheng smiled and shook his head. "Why must Sect Leader Lu speak flattery?"
Zouzi talked of heaven, Lu Chen spoke of dreams—both were unique in their own right.
Lu Chen lifted his wine bowl and swirled it, his face full of worry and his eyes sorrowful. "When it comes to taking disciples, I am deeply ashamed. None of those unworthy disciples have ever won the title 'Number One Under Heaven.' It's made me, their master, unpopular wherever I go. Look at Old Scholar Xiuzi—even when he goes to the Qingming world and stays at Xuan Du Temple, he still treats it like his own home."
Lu Sheng was at a loss between laughter and tears. The "Number One Under Heaven" of Lotus Blessed Land could hardly be compared to the Haoran world. That was a high hat that Lu Sheng dared not place on his own head.
As for Lu Chen's direct disciples, which of them had not achieved great mastery in their Dao? Let alone those left in the Haoran world—Cao Rong and He Xiaoliang were both at the Immortal Realm, with hopes of ascending.
In Lotus Blessed Land, within the Temple of Observing the Dao, aside from the host, Cave Lord Bixiao, there were occasional distinguished guests like Pure Yang True Man, as well as those "banished immortals" from Tongye Zhou who had come to the blessed land to temper their Dao hearts through worldly experience. Furthermore, the blessed land itself was not lacking in people of stunning talent. If it were not for the old temple master's deliberate intention to gather the heaven and earth's spiritual energy and forbid commoners from cultivating, the land might have already produced a large number of Earth Immortals, like Ling Shuang Blessed Land of Fuyao Continent or Jiang Shangzhen's Yunku Blessed Land. And in the history of Lotus Blessed Land, the pure martial artist most recognized as closest to "Heavenly Dao" was actually a woman.
Sui Youbian.
She was a jianghu "senior" greatly admired even by Yu Zhenyi of the Lake and Mountain Sect.
Roaming the mortal world, dominating the jianghu, winning the top title—in the eyes of Yu Zhenyi, who had lofty aspirations, it was all just "ghost walking"—ultimately inescapable from the mold of "mortal and vulgar."
But Sui Youbian was different. That woman had once wielded her sword to ascend and struck three sword blows against the heavenly dome.
Sui Youbian's origin in Lotus Blessed Land was actually quite good, somewhat similar to the later noble son Zhu Lian. And her family's elders were not illiterate—why would they have been so perfunctory in naming her?
Of course, it was because a certain lofty person had high hopes for "Sui Youbian," hoping she would blaze a new trail, different from the ordinary.
The "Youbian" in Sui Youbian was the opposite of "the man on the left side of Handan Road."
And the scholar before them, who called himself "Lu Sheng," was just such a hermit who had imparted knowledge of scholarship, martial arts, and swordsmanship to Sui Youbian in the blessed land.
As one of the protagonists of the "Yellow Millet Dream," Lu Sheng naturally hoped that his disciple Sui Youbian would, in the future, carve out a new path different from his own.
"Few people walk the great road of the Three Pure Ones; they vie to enter the left and side paths. Since ancient times, the human world has been full of forks; immortals are hard to meet, and the Dao hard to find."
Lu Chen took a sip of wine, then tore off a greasy chicken leg and mumbled, "I think that Miss Sui's future achievements won't be low. If I were in your shoes, Brother Xi Zhou, even if it went against the old temple master's arrangements, I would still give that golden elixir to Miss Sui. With such help, Miss Sui's status as a great sword immortal would be like something in a bag. If her luck were even better, the 'fall' of Lotus Blessed Land in earlier times would become the 'rise' of the Haoran world. What she couldn't accomplish in the past, she can make up for later."
Lu Sheng said helplessly, "If Sect Leader Lu interprets characters that way, it smacks of forcing an explanation."
Because the character "Sui," if one disregards its origin as a surname and follows the "Shou Tao" of Confucian Temple, originally meant the leftover offerings after a sacrifice. "After the sacrifice, one stores away the sui." Hence, sages added annotations: "the lungs, spine, millet, and the like offered to the corpse." In addition, according to the "Shuowen Jiezi" by the "Word Sage of Shaoling," Xu Shen, the character "sui" also has the meaning of "falling down."
Lu Chen chuckled. "Is that so? Sui Youbian failed to ascend with her sword, and her 'body withered, bones dissolved, turning to ash'—doesn't that look like the first 'corpse liberation' in Lotus Blessed Land? It was precisely because of Sui Youbian's action that Yu Zhenyi later became ambitious, turning from a martial artist's fistwork to mountain climbing and immortal cultivation, determined to accomplish what his predecessor had failed to do."
Yu Zhenyi indeed admired Sui Youbian immensely. He once joked about himself: "The heroes and great men of the world are all subjects beneath a woman's skirt."
If we talk about those in history with higher martial arts realms than Sui Youbian, there were some. But no one matched her resolve to contend against the heavens.
"If your Lotus Blessed Land must choose the Ten Great Grandmasters in history,"
Lu Chen could now make a definitive judgment on the once-unified Lotus Blessed Land. "Aside from Ding Ying, who synthesized all martial arts in the world, the four from the painting scroll brought out by Chen Ping'an, plus Yu Zhenyi, who disregarded jianghu martial virtue and went alone to cultivate immortality on the mountain—they can all be included in this list."
The four from the painting scroll beside Chen Ping'an, including Sui Youbian, had each lived in different dynastic eras and were all true "Number One Under Heaven" of Lotus Blessed Land.
Wei Xian had failed to seek immortality and finally died of old age, but he still lived to 120 years, a full sexagenary cycle. The demon sect leader Lu Baixiang died in a siege.
The martial madman Zhu Lian... had sought his own death. Within a single city, he had killed off almost all the other nine besides the top ten in the world.
In the end, Ding Ying had lucked into the "jackpot" and obtained the silver lotus crown upon Zhu Lian's head.
And Sui Youbian had accomplished a stunning feat unmatched by any predecessor: "Wielding a sword to ascend." She gathered half the world's martial fortunes into her body, like an immortal flying up on a sword. But unfortunately, success slipped from her grasp. She could not truly shatter the indestructible heavenly bottleneck. After delivering those three incomparably brilliant sword strokes, she ended up in the tragic state of flesh dissolving and body withering. Her bones fell to earth and turned to dust, then vanished into smoke and scattered.
After that, it seemed to become an iron law for martial artists of later ages: the heavenly way could not be defied.
That was until Ding Ying appeared, and the first true "immortal" of the blessed land to embark on mountain cultivation, Yu Zhenyi.
Lu Sheng smiled and nodded. "No controversy there."
Lu Chen said, "If we calculate by peak combat strength, Brother Xi Zhou, how would you rank the top three?"
Lu Sheng shook his head. "I have been away from the blessed land too long. I haven't witnessed those heroes in action with my own eyes, so I dare not make rash judgments."
In fact, the Mr. Lu before them could certainly occupy a spot among the ten, and his ranking would not be low—perhaps even in the top three.
He truly deserved the description "sword technique that reaches the divine"; otherwise, he could not have taught a direct disciple like Sui Youbian.
Actually, in the matter of "questioning the heavens with a sword," Mr. Lu had taken the first step before his disciple Sui Youbian. It was just that he had not been as much in the public eye as she was, because he had engaged in a sword duel with the old temple master.
As for the outcome, there was no suspense. Like Sui Youbian, he lost his physical body and was forced to "wear" a feathered robe and crane cloak—that is, the outer appearance of the old man before them now.
Afterward, as if to atone for his fault, he received a decree from the old temple master and left Lotus Blessed Land for Tongye Zhou. Mr. Lu's "ascension" had a flavor of "blooming inside the wall, fragrant outside." It was similar to how the criminal officer Hao Su had once ascended with his sword from his own blessed land, causing such a stir that in the capital region of the Great Spring Dynasty, a prefectural city was named "Riding the Crane City." The local people passed down a story that an immortal had ridden a crane there and ascended. That so-called immortal trace was just a small hill. To this day, there is a widely circulated nursery rhyme in the streets of Great Spring: "Who rode off on the green ox? The yellow crane has flown back again."
Later, Lu Sheng was ordered to go to Jade Maiden Sect and live in seclusion in the Jiang clan's Yunku Blessed Land. He became an old boatman, ferrying people for a few snowflake coins, guarding that "golden elixir" hidden in the cliff face of Yellow Crane Cliff.
And the former owner of this golden elixir had been an old companion of the temple master in ancient times. This Daoist friend often visited the Falling Treasure Shoal of Bixiao Cave to discuss the Dao with the temple master.
Lu Chen said, "Using pure true qi to 'fill the sea' was your invention. And 'gall bladder and liver mirror each other' was also a qi-cultivation method you were the first to explore. Unfortunately, Sui Youbian received your direct transmission but only got the form, not the spirit. Later, Yu Zhenyi got only the spirit, because fewer than half of the books you left behind—which Sui Youbian had deliberately preserved instead of destroying—eventually made it into Yu Zhenyi's hands."
Lu Sheng took a sip of wine, his expression desolate. "In those years, I scoured the official histories and wild chronicles of various dynasties. Eventually, I discovered that in every era, there seemed to be those banished immortals from foreign lands descending. Some people underwent drastic changes in personality, some appeared out of nowhere, and they ran rampant in the mortal world. From this, I concluded: since there are people beyond people, there must be heavens beyond heavens. The so-called attaining the Dao and ascending to the ranks of immortals mentioned in ancient books might be a joke. For example, the 'world' I occupied might be just a remote, desolate mountain region visited by no one."
"At that time, unaware that I was also one of them, I worried deeply about this matter. I wanted to go out and see, but I couldn't bear to abandon my martial arts halfway, so I had to silently explore the path myself while seeking a disciple who was the closest to what the books called a 'embryo of Dao cultivation.' But in the end, it was like drawing water with a bamboo basket. As a Confucian scholar, I tried to study Dao and attain immortality, then to meditate on Chan and learn Buddhism—but in the end, I succeeded in none of these three endeavors."
Otherwise, how could Sui Youbian have simply abandoned martial arts and turned to cultivation, and then become a sword immortal instantly?
Lu Chen nodded.
The matter of integrating the three teachings—the first to think of this path was the Great Sect Leader of White Jade Capital, Lu Chen's senior brother, Kou Ming.
This was also why a small group of peak cultivators in the Qingming world felt that the Great Sect Leader's Dao techniques seemed to coincide with Buddhist principles.
Zheng Juzhong, Wu Shuangjiang, the Lu Sheng before them, Lü Yan with the Dao name "Pure Yang," and now Chen Ping'an...
In fact, they had all made attempts along this path.
And of course, there was Qi Jingchun, who spent sixty years in Lizhu Cave Heaven. He walked the farthest, the highest.
Lu Chen set down his chopsticks, rubbed his chin, glanced at the young woman by the gate, then finally peeled a dried lychee and tossed it into his mouth.
Earlier, at the Logging Yard, he had had an open-hearted, frank conversation with Lin Zhengcheng, the "gatekeeper" of Lizhu Cave Heaven.
That year, Qi Jingchun chose to bear the heavenly tribulation alone to protect a single Lizhu Cave Heaven.
In the eyes of the Confucian Temple in the Central Plains, this act was somewhat similar to Bai Ye's later sword journey to Fuyao Continent. Roughly speaking, it was something one could advise against but could not prevent.
Even the Buddhist side, during that catastrophe, had not been nearly as aggressive toward Qi Jingchun as the immortals of the Purple Qi Tower of White Jade Capital.
Among the three teachings and one school that had tried to stop Qi Jingchun from shouldering all the karmic consequences, it was only at White Jade Capital in the Qingming world—specifically, with the two sect leaders, Yu Dou and Lu Chen, a pair of senior and junior brothers with vastly different temperaments, Dao hearts, and ways of doing things—that their attitudes and stances on this matter had, for once, reached an exceedingly rare consensus. They had been extremely clear and left no room for negotiation.
Because they feared that this would be Qi Jingchun's "break and then stand." If he succeeded, it would be an act of establishing a doctrine and becoming a patriarch, a path to proving the Dao.
It was not that Lu Chen feared Qi Jingchun's realm becoming higher. To Lu Chen, a fourteenth realm, or even a fifteenth realm—what did it matter to him?
But Lu Chen could not bear to see one thing happen: that his senior brother (Kou Ming), who had a great Dao contest with Qi Jingchun, would have his Dao cut off as a result.
This meant that the thing Lu Chen hoped his senior brother would help him verify would come to nothing.
And in the eyes of his other senior brother, Yu Dou, if Qi Jingchun got there first and accomplished this deed, it would mean that White Jade Capital would no longer have a Great Sect Leader, and the mortal world would no longer have that senior brother.
And to Yu Dou, senior brother Kou Ming had the kindness of acting as a teacher on the master's behalf in both taking disciples and imparting lessons.
Thus, before Lu Chen left White Jade Capital, Yu Dou had nearly warned his junior brother in a tone of warning.
"Lu Chen, if you dare hesitate at the final moment,"
"I will act."
Afterward, Lu Chen had said, "I clearly didn't do anything, ah." He could fool others with that excuse, but how could he deceive the gatekeeper Lin Zhengcheng? And even less so Chen Ping'an.
Lu Chen just felt distressed. He picked up his chopsticks again and muttered to himself, "When it comes to cultivation, talk as much as you like, it's all just 'turning from guest to host.'"
He cast a sidelong glance at the young woman by the gate and said with a slight smile, "What do you think?"
The young woman sneered. "There aren't a few people in the whole world qualified to talk such big talk."
"Then let's say I'm speaking for my senior brother, Temple Master Sun, Heavenly Master Zhao, and the others."
Lu Chen chuckled. "Right, Hidden Hand Officer?"
Upon hearing this, Lu Sheng was shocked. A Jade Perfection Realm sword immortal, his Dao heart shaken—how many days had passed? Chen Ping'an already had such Dao skills?
He could hide somewhere, overseeing mountains and rivers from afar without Lu Sheng noticing at all? Then had the Third Sect Leader of White Jade Capital known all along? Had he deliberately concealed it from him?
Lu Chen exchanged a glance with him, looking embarrassed. He swore solemnly, "As the sun and moon as witnesses, by heaven and earth as my conscience, I have absolutely nothing to do with this!"
Borrowing or lending fourteenth realm Dao arts to the young Hidden Hand Officer—wasn't that digging a pit to bury oneself? If Temple Master Sun of Xuan Du Temple found out about today's business, it would be terrible—wouldn't he mock me for hundreds or thousands of years?
Lu Chen composed himself, becoming rarely serious. He picked up a pair of chopsticks and lightly tapped the table.
The table struck by the chopsticks began to ripple like flowing water, dreamlike and illusory, uncertain between truth and falsehood.
Lu Chen took a deep breath. "Even a cat that walks by the river every day will eventually wet its paws. Horrible, truly horrible."
The young woman by the gate gave a faint, knowing smile. She raised her hand and gently flicked the talisman on her shoulder, which fluttered to the ground. She took a step back, and her form gradually dissipated.
At the same time, the entire "Old Site of Patriarch Lü's Shrine" outside the kitchen began to show countless subtle cracks, likewise starting to "fade in color."
Bit by bit, drop by drop, it restored the true original appearance of the residence.
What three-headed female ghosts? What mountain and marsh wild cultivators? What dharma combat? What summoning gods and descending true spirits of licentious shrines? It had all been illusions that never existed.
It was as if someone had elaborately written a story for Lu Chen.
Lu Chen grimaced. "Did I just take a flying dart for nothing?"
By the pond outside the Fen River God Shrine, Qing Tong suddenly stood up from his bamboo chair and asked tremblingly, "What did you do before I went out?!"
Chen Ping'an was still sitting on the bamboo chair, maintaining that leisurely posture of holding a fishing rod. He slowly spoke. "I told you earlier: let you make a water contemplation for a while."
Qing Tong shook his head. "Impossible. Even if you fooled me, how could you fool Lu Chen?!"
In his shock, Qing Tong had begun addressing the Third Sect Leader of White Jade Capital by his full name.
Even on the Haoran world, where Lu Chen could only travel and act with the strength of a Flying Ascension Realm,
Lu Chen was still Lu Chen.
Moreover, not long ago, mountain lords like Zhou You of Sui Mountain and the water lord Li Yehou could almost instantly detect the existence of a dream. Li Yehou had even stood on the boundary line between true and false dreams, while Zhou You had casually torn the entire dream apart.
Had Chen Ping'an, during his previous visits to Water Lord Li Yehou and the Five Sacred Mountains in the Central Plains, already offered some kind of hidden gesture of respect?
But the more Qing Tong thought about it, the more impossible it seemed.
Not to mention Sect Leader Lu, but even Lu Sheng alone was still a Jade Perfection Realm sword immortal. And Lu Sheng, in Lotus Blessed Land, had been a scholar who had thoroughly exhausted the principles of heaven and man. After Lu Sheng "stumbled into the residence," even a casual glance—a careless sweep of his gaze—would have captured every detail, leaving a deep impression. If anything were off, he would have noticed the signs.
Previously, when Qing Tong and Chen Ping'an had traveled together in various dreams to visit water palaces and mountain peaks, those dreams had merely forcibly dragged various mountain and water gods into them; they did not create anything extra.
But inside the "Old Site of Patriarch Lü's Shrine," Chen Ping'an had not only set up those female ghosts, cultivators, and two licentious shrine great immortals, along with the two rows of armored shrine guards with spears and halberds in the corridors... The most crucial part was that they had to talk to themselves, mutter to themselves... And every time they spoke, every gesture, even every heart-voice, had to match their identities, realms, and even temperaments... Moreover, all those constructions that appeared out of thin air, every landscape, needed meticulous carving in the details and alignment with geography in the grand scale...
This meant that Chen Ping'an, in addition to being a storyteller skilled at crafting tales, also needed to be a master of construction and carpentry, a painter, a calligrapher, and even an expert on women's clothing and accessories...
Chen Ping'an said with a smile, "Do you think what you saw in the pond was happening right now? 'Even if' it fooled you? Moreover, do you think it was only the water painting that fooled you? Why don't you turn around and take a few more looks inside the Fen River God Shrine?"
Qing Tong turned his head to look at the shrine. His face instantly filled with terror. When he looked back, the fisherman was gone from his side.
Qing Tong slumped to the ground in defeat.
Because the bamboo chair Chen Ping'an had handed him earlier... had also been fake.
The real Chen Ping'an was standing with his hands in his sleeves in the shrine's corridor, beside those young Daoist boys playing with copper coins. But the boys and the coins were all frozen in place, as if in a still image.
What terrified Qing Tong most was not this. It was that, as if a painting scroll slowly unrolled, the river of time seemed to begin flowing again. From the moon-gate inside the shrine came a "renewed" crisp jingling of girdle pendants. Two women emerged: the matron still with her cloud-like hairdo, the young girl still in lotus-white shirt and onion-green skirt, stepping on slightly worn embroidered shoes. The old temple priestess, wearing a Daoist robe with bamboo leaf pattern, also walked out through the moon-gate. The young girl still cast a sidelong glance at someone out of the corner of her eye... The only difference was that Lu Chen now stood beside "the former Qing Tong," having replaced Chen Ping'an. That young Daoist with the lotus crown had both legs pinned as if nailed down, his gaze wavering unsteadily. After a difficult effort to calm his mind, he sidestepped to let the three women pass. His eyes still followed the matron and the young girl of different charms. He murmured to himself: "It's not a pear blossom, not an apricot blossom—white and red, all the flavors of the east wind..."
Then Chen Ping'an spoke via heart-voice: "Lu Chen."
These two characters, Qing Tong, standing in the willow shade outside the shrine, heard clearly—like a bolt of lightning, his expression drastically changed.
Because earlier, Qing Tong had asked whom he was waiting for, and Chen Ping'an had said it was "Lu Chen."
Lu Chen turned his head and gave a loud "Ahhh," then scampered toward the corridor of the main hall. He quickly ascended the steps, his face beaming. "A dream that costs a great deal of merit, a natal flying sword, a piece of golden body, and all that mental effort on the details—the Hidden Hand Officer must feel very sorry for the cost. Fortunately, inside that 'Old Site of Patriarch Lü's Shrine,' there were fewer than ten 'fake people.' Once you go beyond the number nine, the expense of building a dream for the Hidden Hand Officer would not just double, you know... Hard work, very hard work! Impressive, truly impressive!"
Lu Chen spun around and crouched on the steps, wiping his face with his sleeve. "What a fine 'inviting the gentleman into the urn, catching the turtle in the urn'—a millennium-old tortoise, ten thousand years of turtle—pfft pfft pfft..."
Lu Chen grimaced. "If this gets out, I won't have the face to wander the jianghu anymore."
Chen Ping'an smiled and comforted him. "Even if you always walk by the river, you'll eventually wet your shoes. It happened once, twice, thrice... You'll get used to it."
Lu Chen raised a hand. "Stop! I don't want a second time."
You are in the urn as if in a dream; you are in the dream as if in the urn.
Chen Ping'an had simply borrowed a place, turned it into a big urn, and let Lu Chen walk into it voluntarily.
Inside that dilapidated mansion in the city, not many things were genuine.
But in a certain sense, every word and deed of those female ghosts, wild cultivators, and licentious shrine gods was a thousand times true.
Especially that young girl, who had taken form from a thousand-year peony. At that moment, she had voluntarily walked to the kitchen door, mere inches from Lu Chen. All her words, expressions, voice, shifts in mood, every sound of her heart—especially the stories she had composed... for "herself," every word, every sentence, were they not true?
Of course, for Lu Chen, everything had been completely irrelevant—which was also true. That was why he had let his guard down. Otherwise, across the several worlds, unless the three founding patriarchs personally set a trap, Lu Chen would have been perfectly happy to have more dreams even if he mistakenly walked into one.
But Qing Tong, as an onlooker, felt his scalp grow colder and tighter, a chill creeping up his spine.
Because it was like a major examination: the test paper was given, the answers were given, even the commentary was given, yet Qing Tong still could not figure out all the connections.
Just on this dream journey he had regarded as a pleasure tour—how many new tricks had this Chen Ping'an, or Mr. Zheng, devised?!
Lu Chen raised his head, looking up at the blue-robed man standing there, and asked with a smile, "I beg the Hidden Hand Officer to enlighten me: who shielded some of my 'celestial heart'?"
If not for that loss of initiative, Lu Chen admitted that even if he had stupidly blundered into that dream world, he would not have noticed the anomaly so late.
Chen Ping'an laughed and said, "The Supreme Sage asked me to see you out and escort Sect Leader Lu respectfully to the border."
Lu Chen suddenly realized. He quickly stood up, made a Daoist bow of deference, and murmured with utmost sincerity, "This is too heavy a courtesy. The Supreme Sage is far too polite."
Young Master Xiao (the younger Confucian saint) would never do such a thing, but the Supreme Sage might.
Lu Chen sighed in admiration. "Chen Ping'an, such a hidden trump card shouldn't be revealed so early. Aren't you afraid I'll spread this all over White Jade Capital?"
Chen Ping'an said, "Opportunities to practice are rare. If I missed Sect Leader Lu today, where would I find a fourteenth-realm cultivator?"
Lu Chen tiptoed and waved energetically. "Daoist friend Qing Tong! Over here, over here!"
Qing Tong had no choice but to steel himself and walk into the Fen River God Shrine, not even using the divine ability of "shrinking the earth."
This kind of immortals' war, as if high above, easily caused collateral damage to the innocent.
Lu Chen explained to Qing Tong with a smile, "If not for Confucian Temple's strict rules allowing me only to travel through two continents' mountains and rivers, I would have definitely visited the Demon-Suppressing Tower earlier. Don't mind it, Daoist friend Qing Tong."
Qing Tong said with a stiff expression, "Of course I don't."
The young Daoist boys in the corridor resumed tossing copper coins, completely absorbed in play, innocent and carefree.
The two women who had come to offer incense also boarded the carriage, and the old driver gave a soft shout. The sound of carriage wheels sounded outside the shrine.
The old temple priestess, holding a jade ruyi, also returned to the shrine with a full smile. She had added a considerable amount of oil money; they could have a good New Year, and the various ceremonies in early spring at the shrine could be held more lavishly.
When the priestess saw the three incense-burners by the steps, she nodded to them in greeting. The three in the corridor nodded back in return. In particular, the young Daoist with the Daoist crown smiled and said, "At the end of the year, there are still visitors coming to offer incense—that's a good omen. Next year, the incense for our Fen River God Shrine will surely be plentiful."
Hearing this, the priestess was in high spirits. Her expression became even more kindly, and she nodded with a smile. "I wish the Daoist friend a smooth journey in his wanderings."
After the priestess stepped into the moon-gate, Chen Ping'an said, "The situation at Yunxia Mountain turned out even better than I expected. Sure enough, Sect Leader Lu does things with a seasoned hand."
Lu Chen said, "Huang Zhonghou is a good drinking friend. Next time I return here, I'll definitely look him up for a drink."
Chen Ping'an nodded.
Lu Chen asked, "What's the plan now? Go back to see the Supreme Sage?"
Chen Ping'an said, "I may not necessarily get to see him. And I plan to first visit the Yellow Millet Sect—there is a ceremonial viewing over there, and some people from Falling Mountain have already headed over. I won't stay until the day of the ceremony itself, but since I'm already in Dream Millet Nation (Mengliang Guo), I have no reason not to drop by and say hello."
Lu Chen rubbed his hands and grinned. "Mind if I tag along and join the fun?"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "As you wish."
Chen Ping'an said, "Can Sect Leader Lu now dissolve the dream?"
Lu Chen blinked.
Qing Tong stood dumbfounded.
Lu Chen stomped one foot lightly.
The entire Fen River God Shrine vanished into nothing.
Qing Tong was already numb.
From now on, do whatever you two want.
Chen Ping'an said, "That's enough. One dream repays another—clean and clear."
Lu Chen grinned cheekily and waved his sleeve again. The three in the corridor were once again in the corridor outside the main hall of the Fen River God Shrine.
Chen Ping'an turned sideways and lifted a foot to kick him.
Lu Chen hopped aside, laughing heartily.
When Lu Chen's feet landed, the three had already arrived inside that dilapidated mansion, right outside the small building. Inside the building were three coffins, but no bones—empty.
Lu Chen stood outside the threshold, pressed his palms together, and murmured, "Coffins, coffins—rise in rank, get rich."
In fact, in the mortal marketplace, people had absolutely no taboo about coffins; they never thought them unlucky. Otherwise, many elderly from wealthy families would not have prepared a coffin for themselves early on. As for imperial families, almost all emperors and monarchs selected a tomb site while still alive and began construction for their afterlife.
Chen Ping'an said expressionlessly, "As long as Sect Leader Lu doesn't lie down in one himself, it has nothing to do with him."
Lu Chen pretended not to hear.
But Qing Tong was terrified.
The old scholar came over, shook his head with a smile, and looked quite helpless.
Chen Ping'an clasped his hands in apology. "Master Ni, many apologies."
Ni Yuanzan—or rather Lu Sheng—laughed heartily and said, "It was simply that Mr. Chen was one step ahead. Besides, there was no real danger or trouble; it can be entirely regarded as an unusual mountain journey. I got to see a lantern show for free without spending any money."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Then Master Ni should consider that this junior trusts that 'one cannot fault good manners toward too many.'"
Ni Yuanzan teased, "Then I'll say the one with the higher Dao rules."
Lu Chen's face was full of aggrieved resentment. For me, the one who was invited into the urn, the Hidden Hand Officer hasn't shown such meticulous courtesy.
Lu Chen looked around at the overgrown weeds, devoid of life. It seemed even less appealing than the dream earlier. He couldn't help but flip his wrist and sigh, "Good times fly like birds; turn the palm and it becomes a story."
Here, now, seeing this scene—the mind cannot grasp it.
One blue robe.
Returned from the Five Sacred Mountains, not a speck of dust; sitting with a hundred cities, all dharmas empty.
Lu Chen suddenly said, "Chen Ping'an, when we first met that year, would you call it... Ouch, I'm at a loss for words. What now!"
Chen Ping'an smiled and finished the thought, "Sect Leader Lu wants to say 'First meeting, two youths'?"
Lu Chen clapped and laughed. "A lifetime of infatuation, no dream to Longzhou. Green mountains stand before the eyes; first meeting, two youths."
Chen Ping'an said, "It turns out good poems don't rhyme."
Qing Tong and Lu Sheng exchanged a glance, almost sharing a sense of fellowship. How did you end up drinking at the same table with Lu Chen? How did you become Chen Ping'an's follower?
In the dusk, at the mountain gate of Yellow Millet Sect.
A long table was set up, with brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. It was for recording the names and sects of the viewing guests, as well as checking invitations and licenses. Of course, it was just a formality.
A few unfamiliar visitors arrived.
The cultivators of Yellow Millet Sect were not the shallow-eyed type of small sects. Generally, they could recognize distinguished mountain guests from nearby sects and neighboring countries.
The leader was a young man in a blue shirt and long gown, with a gentle expression.
He seemed somewhat familiar—the more one looked, the more familiar he became.
Beside him followed a woman wearing a hood cloak (mili) and a dark green robe.
An old man in Confucian robes, and a young Daoist with a fish-shaped crown on his head. He seemed a bit sloppy, liking to swing his sleeves when he walked.
But it was this young Daoist who quickly stepped forward and presented a congratulatory gift: two Grain Rain coins. Then he was the first to pick up the brush and write down his name.
Autumn Whisper Temple of the Divine Complaint Sect, Daoist Lu Fu.
The young Daoist did not forget to add four characters in fine regular script: "Has a Daoist certificate."
Then the other three visitors who came to offer congratulations followed suit, each taking out two Grain Rain coins and writing down their names and sects.
Tongye Zhou, Guest Elder of Xiandu Mountain, Qing Tong. Tongye Zhou, Guest Elder of Yunku Blessed Land, Ni Yuanzan.
Falling Mountain, Mountain Lord Chen Ping'an.