Chapter 939: Peach Leaves Meet Peach Blossoms

Chapter 939: Peach Leaves Meet Peach Blossoms

Within the borders of this Dream Grain Kingdom, the Yellow Millet Sect, which neighbored Cloud Gorge Mountain, had its ancestral mountain named Lou Mountain, located in Bieyi County, Huai'an Prefecture, Dream Grain Kingdom.

Ever since the Yellow Millet Sect purchased a Yidai Peak in the western mountains near the former site of the Pearly Pearl Cavern Heaven, as an "exclave" for their "descending the mountain," it seemed as though their streak of bad luck had turned around and began to favor them.

First, in the early years, they used a pouch of "welcoming spring coins" as a toll, then used the remaining pouch of "suppressing victory coins" to buy Yidai Peak from the Great Li court—its price had multiplied several times over.

Then, Senior Uncle Liu Hongwen, who had essentially been escorted to Yidai Peak to retire in comfort, became acquainted with that Fallen Mountain. It was said that even the mountain lord Chen Ping'an respectfully addressed him as "Old Immortal Liu." Moreover, Senior Uncle and Fallen Mountain's guest elder, Chen Lingjun, were excellent drinking buddies. Senior Uncle had also participated in several Night Roaming Banquets at the Northern Peak Piyun Mountain, and had at least become a familiar face to Mountain Lord Wei.

In Senior Uncle's own words: "At Mountain Lord Wei's Night Roaming Banquet, my seat was always in the front row. Every time, among those below the Nascent Soul stage, my seat was closest to the front. Just look at the mountain and river gods sitting across from me—twice it was the River God of Embroidered River, once it was the City God of Dragon Province. In the Great Li court's officialdom of mountains and rivers, which of them was lacking? If you put them in Dream Grain Kingdom, even the highest-ranking Five Marchmount Lords, could they sit next to the Embroidered River Water God?"

After that, a core lineage disciple, upon whom great hopes were placed, indeed successfully broke through to the Golden Core stage.

Thus, the Yellow Millet Sect's peak-opening celebration, scheduled for the first month of next year, came about.

Within one sect, three Golden Cores.

Add to that the fact that the sect leader Gao Zhen's closed-door disciple—the one who had sought opportunities in the Pearly Pearl Cavern Heaven years ago without success—now showed signs of a loosening bottleneck at the Dragon Gate realm.

Earlier, Gao Zhen and Senior Uncle had made a gentleman's agreement: since Senior Uncle had indeed fulfilled his "wager" and successfully invited guests from Fallen Mountain to observe the ceremony, then naturally, Yidai Peak no longer needed to be sold.

The Yellow Millet Sect specially selected two adjacent residences with the finest scenery.

The young man in Confucian robes was named Li Huai, claiming to be from Cliff Academy. The yellow-robed old man beside him seemed to be a servant, named Ou Lu, without a surname, with the Daoist name Dragon Mountain Lord. His travel documents indicated he was a loose cultivator from Southern Bodhisattva Continent, with a hawk-eyed, eagle-eyed gaze, gaunt and bony, yet wearing a spacious dharma robe.

Since this master-servant pair were unexpected visitors, the Yellow Millet Sect speculated that this Cliff Academy disciple was likely from a powerful clan down the mountain, young as he was, to have a cultivator as his attendant.

At that moment, Li Huai was inside the room flipping through a book resembling a literati's notebook. He had casually pulled a yellowed volume from a corner of the bookshelf. It bore several seal imprints, apparently seals from local Dream Grain Kingdom literati who had once owned it—a fairly clear provenance. Tucked between the last two pages was a note, roughly explaining the book's origin: it came from a place called the Fen River Spirit Temple, a gift from the temple priest.

Because Li Huai was a Confucian academy student, the Yellow Millet Sect had given him this elegant courtyard. Plaques and couplets, the four treasures of the study, New Year's offerings—everything was provided. Several calligraphy and painting vases were stuffed with scrolls.

Li Huai actually felt quite undeserving, but it wasn't easy to just shout out, "Actually, I haven't read many books."

Nen Daoren sat on the threshold, half-asleep, deeply absorbed in studying that ancient manual. The old blind man had casually tossed him a copy of *Refining Mountains*, but unfortunately, it was only the upper half.

Yet even just the upper half had already benefited Nen Daoren immensely. He naturally had a major Dao dispute with Yuan Shou, one of the former throne-seat great demons of the Barbaric World. Yuan Shou's "moving mountains" and Nen Daoren's "chasing mountains" were comparable in terms of techniques and Daoist height. However, in the art of "eating mountains"—refining mountain dragon veins—Yuan Shou, whose true name was Zhu Yan, had apparently obtained an ancient divine ability from his paramour Yang Zhi. This meant that even though both were Ascension-stage great cultivators, Zhu Yan's Dao realm tended toward "perfection," while Nen Daoren's "Barbaric Peach Pavilion" was slightly inferior, merely "peak." Only with a perfected realm could one have the capital and confidence to pursue that elusive fourteenth realm.

Nen Daoren had previously entertained improper thoughts, wanting to ask Li Huai to plead with the old blind man.

But Li Huai's two sentences dispelled Nen Daoren's notions.

"If I were willing to help you, but do you really think that if I asked, my half-master would be willing to give you the lower half of the ancient manual?"

"Putting that aside, even if he, for my sake, felt obliged and gave you the lower half, would you truly dare to cultivate it?"

Nen Daoren sighed deeply. His young master really wasn't stupid.

Li Huai was being discreet for the sake of his elders, not wanting to say outright that his half-master, the old blind man, was easy-going with Li Huai himself, but when it came to Old Man Nen, it was hard to say.

In truth, this "Barbaric Peach Pavilion" had simply had all his limelight obscured by the old blind man. If we only talk about the Mandarin Duck Shoal, from Nan Guangzhao, to the immortal Yun Miao, and then to those distantly watching Qin Zao, Yan Ge, Tian Ni, and others—who would dare to treat this Nen Daoren as a simple-minded "old immortal"? As for Nen Daoren before he became a watchdog for the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains, in the Barbaric World, since he could have real battles with the former throne-seat Yuan Shou, was he someone to mess with? In Barbaric World history, there was once a "young" Ascension-stage cultivator who rose to fame, nicknamed "Little Yuan Shou," his "mountain-moving" art at its peak. Within a mere thousand years, he had devoured several hundred mountains and their founder halls. The outside world speculated on his odds against Peach Pavilion, with some guessing at least fifty percent.

The result was that this great cultivator, whose fame was unrivaled at the time, was indeed blocked by Peach Pavilion during a travel excursion. The two fought and skirmished across millions of miles. After a thorough and exhilarating battle, only Peach Pavilion remained, hovering in the air. He patted his stomach, belched, and left behind only one sentence: "Fifty percent full."

Li Huai asked curiously, "Why is it that the Yellow Millet Sect has had so many Golden Core cultivators in its history, but not a single Nascent Soul? Is the feng shui too strange?"

Nen Daoren smiled. "Maybe it's a matter of give and take."

Earlier on the ferry, as the undeniable "founding patriarch" of the mountain-chasing lineage, Nen Daoren had already discerned the lay of Lou Mountain. It was an extraordinary feng shui treasure land, so much so that Nen Daoren needed to calculate on his fingers to discover an inconspicuous "outgoing vein" in the Lou Mountain territory. Between the cliffs lay a hidden cave grotto, a place illuminated by the Dipper Handle's Jade Balance. A great master had once "attained the Dao" here. The lingering Dao aura was not glaring, but extremely condensed and introverted, making it very difficult to find. If Lou Mountain's mountain momentum was like a person wearing crimson robes—a conspicuous "official appearance" that anyone with some hope-gazing art could discern the depth of—then this place was like a treasured gourd deliberately planted deep, nurturing a longevity treasure. And that earth vein was like a natural "official's golden fish pouch" serving as camouflage.

Seeing his young master looking confused, Nen Daoren patiently explained: "This Yellow Millet Sect, in its early days of strongest fortune, reportedly had twelve Golden Cores within its founder hall, including several guest elders and advisors. For that time on Vase Bottle Continent, that was undeniably a first-class immortal mansion. But there was a Dao attainment master who was deeply versed in the principles of rise and fall of all things. He helped Lou Mountain accumulate some savings year after year, which over time became a treasury. However, the cultivators of the Yellow Millet Sect had never produced a true cultivation seed, so they could not find the door. Because this treasury required a key—someone needed to open the door."

Li Huai exclaimed in wonder, "Twelve Golden Core earthly immortals sitting together in the founder hall for deliberation—now that's spectacular."

So in those days, the Yellow Millet Sect, even when looking at Cloud Gorge Mountain, which had a Nascent Soul sitting at its summit, did so from a position of superiority.

Moreover, the relationship between the Yellow Millet Sect and Dream Grain Kingdom was clear just from the sect's name and the kingdom's name.

Compared to Cloud Gorge Mountain, the hearts of successive monarchs would naturally lean closer to Lou Mountain, and they were certainly willing to support the Yellow Millet Sect without reserve.

Nen Daoren chuckled.

If it were the Barbaric World, where cultivation meant just filling one's own belly, twelve earthly immortals? Golden Core or Nascent Soul, they wouldn't be enough for a single meal.

Li Huai asked curiously, "Sect Leader Gao is already considered a sword immortal, isn't he? Can't he be the keyholder to open that door?"

Nen Daoren was momentarily at a loss for words.

He wanted to say that this Yellow Millet Sect leader was just a Golden Core swordsman with lousy talent—what was he? But knowing that Li Huai disliked such talk, Nen Daoren chose a different phrasing: "Gao Zhen is still quite far from what I previously meant by a 'true cultivation seed.'"

Sect Leader and Mountain Lord Gao Zhen was a "young" Golden Core in terms of age, only because he had diligently cultivated for three hundred years. He had once been a cultivation genius upon whom great hopes were placed. He broke through the five middle realms smoothly, then successively broke through the Cavern Mansion and Guanhai bottlenecks without taking too many years. However, he stagnated at the Dragon Gate realm for nearly two hundred years. According to the reckoning method of the mountains, his "Dao age" as a Golden Core was actually only a little over forty years.

In his early days, the only reason he could serve as the Yellow Millet Sect's mountain lord while at the Dragon Gate realm was because of his status as a sword cultivator. In the entire Yellow Millet Sect, over hundreds of years, there had only been two sword cultivators. The younger one was a child who had only come up the mountain a few years ago. Although he was found at the foot of the mountain by a cultivator from a different branch of the Yellow Millet Sect and personally brought up, the final result was unsurprising—he became Sect Leader Gao Zhen's direct disciple, personally taught swordsmanship.

This was a common practice on the mountains of Righteous Heaven. For instance, at Zhengyang Mountain's Zhuyu Peak, Tian Wan had successively found Su Jia and Wu Tijing, two sword immortal seeds, and they had also changed allegiances on the mountain, leaving Zhuyu Peak to transfer to other branches. So even the guide from the Yellow Millet Sect felt no grievance; in fact, when that sword cultivator bowed to Gao Zhen as his master, he even offered a treasured magic artifact as a congratulatory gift.

Before the previous mountain lord went into secluded meditation, he had already left a will: if his meditation failed and he could only die by dissolution, he wanted Gao Zhen to take over as sect leader.

Gao Zhen's poor relationship with Senior Uncle Liu Hongwen stemmed from this. Liu Hongwen was an old-school cultivator who cared most about face and rules, like the old-timers in the martial world below the mountain who clung to old customs. He felt it was utterly improper for a Dragon Gate realm cultivator to be the mountain lord of a sect. Their ancestors were so illustrious—in this Vase Bottle Continent, if placed in a dynasty down the mountain, they would be like those powerful clans with four generations of ministers. Spreading such news would be a huge joke, shaming the ancestors. How could he face burning incense in the founder hall?

Even after Sect Leader Gao Zhen successfully formed his golden core and became a somewhat famous "sword immortal" in the southern part of Vase Bottle Continent, his relationship with Senior Uncle Liu Hongwen did not ease.

Was he, Liu Hongwen, a senior uncle and elder of the sect, supposed to lower his head and admit fault to his junior nephew?

Nen Daoren said helplessly, "Young master, how come Golden Core cultivators seem like transcendent masters to you?"

Li Huai seemed even more helpless. "Don't they say on the mountains, 'Only those who form the golden core are considered one of us'? Once they become land immortals, how are they not masters? I've just seen some great cultivators; it's not like I am one myself, right?"

Nen Daoren immediately flattered, "Young master, this ordinary heart of yours—compared to my Dao heart, it's higher by at least a hundred thousand miles. Hard to find, hard to find."

Li Huai continued reading the book for about half of it, but really couldn't go on. He could recognize all the characters, but when they formed sentences, he often couldn't understand them. They always seemed too arcane, with too much principle, like the metaphysical talk of pure conversationalists, ungrounded. There were no annotations in the margins. Li Huai sighed. He really wasn't cut out for studying. He closed the book and placed it on the table, carefully smoothing it out. Even if he wasn't a scholarly seed who could glorify the family, he should still treat the books he acquired well.

Nen Daoren was used to it. Whenever his young master read a book, he would frown. He was earnest, but how much he actually absorbed—hah.

Take the *Refining Mountains* manual in his hand: Nen Daoren had wanted Li Huai to take a look, but Li Huai quickly waved his hands and shook his head, saying, "What would I look at that for? Can I understand it? Even if I understand the literal content, with my aptitude, could I cultivate? Old Nen, what are you thinking? Trying to make a fool of me?"

But to be honest, Nen Daoren felt that even if he obtained the lower half of *Refining Mountains*, he had no confidence whatsoever in reaching the fourteenth realm.

That Yuan Shou, through that great battle, had devoured how many mountains from Fuyao and Tongye continents? And so what? He was still just an Ascension-stage cultivator.

And in this Righteous Heaven, Wei She of Snowy Islet Continent—Nen Daoren, under the Daoist name Dragon Mountain Lord and the name Ou Lu, had been traveling this world and had already guessed the truth. This man, once hailed as a first-rate genius cultivator whose talent overshadowed his peers, had suffered greatly on the character "mountain." It was highly possible that after one or even two failed attempts to enter the fourteenth realm, Wei She had become so disheartened.

"Old Nen."

Nen Daoren asked doubtfully, "Young master, what is it?"

Li Huai said, "I have an immature idea. Just listen and let it pass. If it's wrong or childish, just hold back your laughter."

Nen Daoren immediately started bracing his face to hold back a laugh. "Young master, please speak."

Li Huai said softly, "Old Nen, you're already at such a high realm. If you rely on moving mountain peaks, devouring mountain ranges, and then digesting them one by one through your innate divine ability, you can certainly increase your cultivation and slowly raise your realm. But I always feel... that compared to what you mountain immortals, especially those who have attained the Dao, consider... the 'Great Dao,' it's still somewhat distant. This ancient manual in your hand is called *Refining Mountains*. After refinement, can you see places that lack water, only mountains, and then occasionally spit out a few mountain peaks... It's like what I just read in this book: 'Cultivate three thousand merits to full, then you have the foundation and base of the Dao.' Foundation, base—they refer to the dwellings we mortals live in, not just the foot or root of a mountain. I think that makes sense. Wait, let me flip through the book. Look, here's another sentence: 'Forge in water and fire, refine in jade within the mountain—why tell me about cavern heavens?'... And this one: 'Borrow stones from other mountains to polish jade. Other mountains are mountains outside the body; this jade is the mountain within the heart.' Whether it's the Daoists' 'Heaven and earth are the parents of all things,' or the poets' 'Heaven and earth are a traveler's inn,' or the 'Unity of Heaven and Man' that Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism all mention—I think, in the final analysis, what it is—it's hard to say. But at least I'm sure of one thing: it's definitely not... like a game of chess, where there must be a winner and loser. It's not about you having more and me having less. Cultivation is not an oppositional relationship of 'if you have it, I don't; if I add, you subtract.' Applied to you, Old Nen, if you just keep demanding mountains, hills, and dragon veins from heaven and earth, eating all the way—when will it end? You can't just eat up all the Five Marchmounts, famous mountains, and Daoist sites, can you? If, and I'm just saying if, the entire heaven and earth could be seen as some kind of great cultivator with sublime divine virtue, then facing the endless taking without giving back from human cultivators, he would probably find it annoying too, right? Is that the reasoning? But I'm just a layman when it comes to cultivation, just babbling nonsense."

At first, Nen Daoren's expression was relaxed, but when he heard Li Huai say the word "Great Dao," his Dao heart suddenly shook. For no reason, he instantly became alert, instinctively straightened his back, and sat up solemnly. Then, when Li Huai mentioned "foundation and base of the Dao," Nen Daoren's expression became uncertain. By the time he uttered "refine in jade within the mountain," Nen Daoren was already beside himself with excitement... losing control...

When Li Huai got thirsty and stopped talking, regardless of whether he had sounded ridiculous to Old Nen, he himself felt awkward.

He had been rambling, jumping from one thing to another with no structure at all.

If only Chen Ping'an were here.

The yellow-robed old man suddenly came to his senses, gently patted the threshold he was sitting on, and murmured, "I have heard the Dao, I have seen the Dao."

Li Huai looked down at the book's cover. The author's name was Lu Yan.

Nen Daoren's eyes sparkled, as if divine light was surging within them. He looked up and asked, "Young master, who wrote this book?"

Li Huai smiled. "Lu Yan. Seems like a Daoist priest."

Nen Daoren asked doubtfully, "Which character 'yan'? The one for 'speech' or the one for 'rock'?"

Li Huai said, "The 'yan' from 'shang xia pin'—the character with 'mountain' on top and 'product' below."

Nen Daoren stood up, shook his sleeves, faced Li Huai and the table, and bowed three times—bowing to Li Huai, bowing to the book, bowing to Lu Yan.

In the adjacent residence, Chen Lingjun crouched on the steps, watching Guo Zhujiu practicing her stance and boxing with loud shouts and exhalations.

The Yellow Millet Sect had no custom of eating a New Year's Eve dinner on the mountain. Chen Lingjun and Nen Daoren discussed it and decided to follow the host's convenience. Otherwise, it would only cause trouble for the Yellow Millet Sect.

Chen Lingjun asked, "Guo Zhujiu, you're a sword cultivator, so why do you practice stance and boxing every day?"

Guo Zhujiu jumped high, spun, and swept her leg. After landing, she said, "Diligence compensates for clumsiness."

Chen Lingjun rolled his eyes. Was that what I was asking?

Suddenly, Guo Zhujiu said, "That Huang Cong—is he really an emperor?"

That Huang Cong was the first emperor Guo Zhujiu had seen since coming to Righteous Heaven.

Chen Lingjun stood up, hands on hips, looking arrogant. "Old Huang Cong? He's definitely an emperor. No airs at all, just a bit poor at holding his liquor. Other than that, I can't find a single fault."

Having said that, Chen Lingjun looked miserable. "I've already let the cat out of the bag. Guo Zhujiu, when you see the master, can you put in a good word for me?"

Guo Zhujiu said, "Mm, of course."

Chen Lingjun was stunned instead. "Huh? You're really willing to help?"

Guo Zhujiu said doubtfully, "When I see my master, I have a basketful of things to say. Putting in a good word for you is just like putting a small dustpan into a big basket—what's there to be unwilling about?"

Chen Lingjun nodded frantically, like a chick pecking at rice, his heart warm. He almost burst into tears on the spot.

Truly, ten Mountain Lords Wei who don't keep martial arts brotherhood are no match for one chivalrous Guo Zhujiu!

Suddenly, Guo Zhujiu stopped her stance practice. "I'm going to find Li Huai."

Chen Lingjun stood up and asked casually, "Why?"

Guo Zhujiu always acted on whim. She tapped her toes and leaped onto the wall. "Find Li Huai and let him use his innate divine ability. Senior Sister said it's very effective—never fails!"

Chen Lingjun's head began to ache. He knew what Guo Zhujiu was talking about—about Li Huai drawing strange symbols on the ground every time, writing Chen Ping'an's name, and then actually seeing their master. Chen Lingjun looked up at the figure already standing on the wall. "Li Huai talks nonsense, Pei Qian spreads rumors, and you actually believe that?"

Guo Zhujiu's figure flew away like a bird, leaving behind a sentence: "Believing it won't cost money."

Chen Lingjun pondered for a moment... Maybe that's right?

He immediately shouted, "Wait for me!"

But Guo Zhujiu's habit of climbing over walls instead of using the front gate was really... hard to describe.

Next time he saw her master, his own master, he would definitely quietly offer some advice.

At the mountain gate, a talisman paper crane was sent to the Lou Mountain founder hall, its wings fluttering, drawing a golden firefly trail through the air, heading straight for the ancestral mountain.

It was both a message and a joyful report.

The two young cultivators temporarily serving as gatekeepers, one male and one female, were both at the Cavern Mansion realm. They were the future hopes of the Yellow Millet Sect, gaining a bit of worldly experience at the foot of the mountain. As for the more experienced true gatekeeper, he had just led a group of ceremony guests up the mountain and had not yet come down.

The two were flushed, their eyes wide, as if they would lose money if they missed a single glance, straining to look at that figure in green robes.

If they had met this visitor in green robes by chance outside the mountain, they wouldn't have dared to recognize him.

Chen Ping'an could only nod and smile at them. The man grinned, the woman pursed her lips. Neither seemed to know what to say properly, so they remained silent.

Shen Gao Sect, as the former standard-bearer among the mountains of Vase Bottle Continent, was a thunderous name to the continent's cultivators.

But that "Autumn Hair Observatory"—they had truly never heard of it.

As for Tongye Continent's Cloud Cavern Blessed Land, that was also quite famous—it was a private territory of the esteemed Old Patriarch Jiang of the Jade Gui Sect.

This Immortal Ni, serving as a guest elder of Cloud Cavern Blessed Land and arriving together with Hidden Officer Chen, must surely be an extraordinary person with extremely high Daoist arts.

Only that female cultivator named Qing Tong, who claimed to be from Dragon Head Mountain in Tongye Continent, gave them no clues at all.

"Luck gone, gold is like iron; luck comes, iron is like gold. The Yellow Millet Sect has encountered good times, and they've also hardened themselves. At least for three to five hundred years, Gao Zhen can indeed rest easy without worry."

Lu Chen, hands tucked into his sleeves, looked up at the Lou Mountain founder hall and said cheerfully via mind voice, "I hear the current sect leader of the Yellow Millet Sect, Gao Zhen, is also a sword immortal? Sect Leader Gao's name is well chosen, truly well chosen. When this poor Daoist returns to the Azure Green World and one day takes a fancy to a cultivation seed, intending to take them as a direct disciple, I'll be sure to give them a Daoist name—'Without Worry.' And I'll tell him or her that if they achieve success in cultivation and can travel far to Righteous Heaven, they must visit the Yellow Millet Sect and thank that sword immortal named Gao Zhen."

Chen Ping'an glanced sideways at Lu Chen.

Lu Chen, imitating the gesture, looked askance at Qing Tong.

Qing Tong felt helpless. I can't compare to you two, but I'm not an idiot either.

She had naturally caught Lu Chen's implication.

The future direct disciple Lu Chen would accept upon returning to the Azure Green World, relying on luck and affinity, and who would have the Daoist name "Without Worry"—this qi refiner, even if their path to cultivation was extremely smooth and breaking through realms was like splitting bamboo, for them to cross worlds and travel far, they would at least need to be a great cultivator at the Ascension stage. Then, coming to this mountain and seeing Gao Zhen in person to thank him—this meant that Gao Zhen of the Yellow Millet Sect had to live long enough to see that day.

And for a cultivator to become a Ascension-stage great cultivator, at least a thousand years, or even two to three thousand years, was perfectly normal. Even if this person was the direct disciple of the Third Teaching Master of the Jade Capital, and the master, Lu Chen, was willing to personally teach Daoist arts and pile on opportunities and heavenly treasures—still, a thousand years would be the earliest.

Take that Pure Yang Daoist, didn't he also say, "In eight hundred autumns since attaining the Dao, I have never sent a flying sword to take a head"?

Lu Yan's "attaining the Dao" referred to his own golden core formation. The eight hundred years without unleashing his flying sword referred to the cultivation years before proving the Dao and ascending.

Moreover, figures like Ning Yao of the Sword Qi Great Wall and Fei Ran of the Barbaric World were ultimately unique exceptions in their respective worlds.

From this, it could be deduced that sword cultivator Gao Zhen's cultivation years would not be short.

This contemporary sect leader of the Yellow Millet Sect, who had such a rough time even forming his golden core, would likely have a different fortune in the future.

Lu Chen laughed. "What about Dong San'geng and the others? Have you forgotten them? And the Hidden Officer right in front of you—do you dare to ignore him?"

Qing Tong was uneasy. Was Teaching Master Lu hinting that besides the Hidden Officer Chen right in front of her, there was also a Mr. Zheng far away?

Lu Chen rolled his eyes. "Fellow Daoist Qing Tong, are you being too clever?"

Chen Ping'an warned, "Once we get to the mountain later, don't cause any trouble."

Lu Chen said cheerfully, "This poor Daoist, whenever he goes out, always gets along with others."

Chen Ping'an let it go with a smile.

Lu Chen asked, "Do you think Gao Zhen will make a big fuss, call all the founder hall members, and have them swarm down to the foot of the mountain to welcome us?"

Ni Yuanzan smiled. "The Yellow Millet Sect is an immortal mansion that has seen the world, not some marketplace where, like a county magistrate entering a village, they have to beat gongs and drums to show proper etiquette."

Suddenly, Lu Chen let out an "Eh," rubbing his chin. "This works? Truly, 'the Dao has no high or low, the dharma has no near or far.'"

Except for Ni Yuanzan, who was at the Jade Pool stage and remained completely unaware, both Chen Ping'an and Qing Tong sensed a profound, subtle ripple of dharma within the mountain.

Chen Ping'an asked via mind voice, "Is Peach Pavilion finding a path?"

Lu Chen nodded. "But he's still a bit away from the state of 'sudden enlightenment under speech.' For now, this fellow Taoist Peach Pavilion has only found a possibility, so he no longer needs to feel despair and just muddle through waiting for death."

Qing Tong said softly, "Chen Ping'an, since Pure Yang Daoist himself said for you to go find that dharma and sword manual directly pointing to the golden core, and we passed by it earlier, why didn't you go take a look?"

Lu Chen couldn't help laughing. "Fellow Daoist Qing Tong, rest assured, this poor Daoist won't compete with Hidden Officer Chen for that opportunity."

Oh ho, "a daughter once grown cannot be kept"—already leaning toward the Hidden Officer? Well, she was already a guest elder of Dragon Head Mountain.

Chen Ping'an said, "I've already seen it."

----

On Lou Mountain, in an extremely elegant small courtyard pavilion, Sect Leader Gao Zhen was playing chess with a young man dressed like a scholar.

Opposite Gao Zhen was none other than the Dream Grain Kingdom emperor, Huang Cong. Behind him stood a palace-robed woman with abundant water transport and a burly old man with profound Daoist aura.

A sovereign, on New Year's Eve, not staying in the capital palace—this was a first in the history of the Dream Grain Kingdom. A monarch was always busiest at this time of year. In Huang Cong's own words, he had come to escape the bustle. However, this young emperor was indeed single-minded in his devotion to the Dao and close to the Daoist sect. In contrast, Cloud Gorge Mountain, which now served as the pillar of Dream Grain Kingdom, had cultivation methods closer to Buddhism. Thus, even for a major event like the change of mountain lord, the emperor had no intention of personally attending the ceremony, planning only to send the Minister of Rites up the mountain.

Huang Cong looked at the situation on the chessboard, picked up a chess piece, his gaze wandering as he spoke of old times, hesitating over his move. He laughed self-deprecatingly. "It seems those chess attendants in the palace, compared to you mountain immortals skilled in chess, are still far behind."

Gao Zhen smiled. "They might also be deliberately losing to Your Majesty."

Clearly, before the emperor, Gao Zhen had no taboo about sovereign-subject relations, nor did he speak any polite nonsense like "I am the first at chess on the mountain, Your Majesty is unbeatable in chess down the mountain."

Huang Cong smiled and nodded. "Possible."

It wasn't that Gao Zhen, as a Golden Core sword immortal earthly immortal, thought too highly of himself, feeling he could look down on kings and nobles.

Perhaps decades ago, aside from the Great Li Dynasty, most of Vase Bottle Continent acted this way. But after the Song clan of Great Li made the entire continent into one kingdom, especially after erecting the stele at the summit of the mountains, this situation had changed. After all, the current Yellow Millet Sect, on this ancestral mountain of Lou Mountain, not far outside the founder hall's gate, had such a stele. Even though the lands south of the great river of Vase Bottle Continent had been restored as kingdoms and were no longer vassals of Great Li, no immortal mansion or sect dared to remove this stele.

Once there was a rumor that a few mountain sects found this stele unsightly and discussed with their respective courts: since the kingdoms were restored and Great Li was no longer the suzerain, they might as well move it away.

But then, after an official mountain-and-water gazette from the Divine Continent reached Vase Bottle Continent, they completely stopped, each publishing their own gazettes to announce to the continent—different wording, same meaning.

Absolutely no such thing; whoever dared to slander, they would definitely be held accountable!

There was no choice. The Great Li Dynasty had lost one "Embroidered Tiger," and Vase Bottle Continent had gained a Hidden Officer.

And these two happened to be fellow disciples from the same lineage.

Huang Cong finally placed his chess piece. Gao Zhen glanced at it and laughed. "Your Majesty has lost."

Huang Cong nodded. He seemed to want to say something but swallowed it back, picking up another topic instead. He joked, "Sect Leader Gao, now your Yellow Millet Sect can finally be generous. Just the three gifts from me, Water God Nalan, and Mountain Lord Mei alone count as a considerable income, not to mention Cloud Gorge Mountain's gift. I'm quite envious, truly envious!"

The water god surnamed Nalan smiled charmingly. "Before ascending the mountain, I advised Your Majesty to combine the gifts I and Mountain Lord Mei had prepared into the royal treasury. It wouldn't matter anyway, since Sect Leader Gao wouldn't mind."

This water goddess wore a green silk robe, colored threads wrapped around her arms, and a small talisman hanging askew from her green cloud-like hair bun. Just by her attire, one could tell she was an admirer of Su Shi.

Gao Zhen laughed heartily. "This time, we've indeed earned quite a bit. Most importantly, we can finally have Cloud Gorge Mountain offer a return gift—that's no small feat!"

The wealthy get richer when they celebrate birthdays; the poor get poorer when they spend money on birthdays.

If you don't invite guests, your face doesn't look good. If you do invite, you have to puff yourself up like a fat man. The guests eat and drink their fill and leave, while you secretly go hungry afterward.

The same principle applies on the mountains.

In earlier years, being a close neighbor to Cloud Gorge Mountain meant bitter knowledge. Every gift of money flowed out like water, especially the kind of red envelopes that were destined never to be returned.

Take Cai Jinjian of Green Cypress Peak: forming a golden core, peak-opening ceremony, then becoming a Nascent Soul—how many gifts had the Yellow Millet Sect sent out for each? They couldn't be too stingy, could they?

Moreover, Cloud Gorge Mountain had one cultivation genius after another: Dao couple weddings, someone breaking through to the Cavern Mansion realm to become a mid-five-realm immortal, old immortals from Cloud Gorge Mountain's founder hall taking on new direct disciples... In contrast, the Yellow Millet Sect had only turned around in the last few decades. Before that, it was truly a miserable period of swallowing bitter gourd seeds in silence.

This time, holding the peak-opening ceremony, the Yellow Millet Sect's initial plan was, of course, to make a big event—so they only hoped to break even.

Because of that unexpected joy, they had far more than broken even—they had made a lot.

The Yellow Millet Sect had originally had no confidence in being able to invite cultivators from Fallen Mountain. They sent out a respectfully worded invitation letter on a trial basis.

Although the young Hidden Officer hadn't been able to come in person to congratulate them, Zhu Lian, as the representative of the Ji Se Peak founder hall, had written a personal letter explaining why their mountain lord couldn't attend the ceremony.

If Mountain Lord Chen hadn't wanted to come, there was absolutely no need to go through such trouble; they could have simply set aside the Yellow Millet Sect's invitation.

Moreover, according to Senior Uncle's account, the young Mountain Lord Chen was sincere, kind, and kept his word. He would never put on airs about such matters. No one from the Lou Mountain founder hall should overthink things—overthinking meant narrow-mindedness, judging the heart of a gentleman with the mind of a petty man.

In the end, Fallen Mountain sent two distinguished guests to offer congratulations: Chen Lingjun, an Nascent Soul cultivator, and Guo Zhujiu, a Golden Core earthly immortal.

It was said that the former was one of the earliest registered cultivators to enter Fallen Mountain, not needing to call him "mountain lord," simply "master."

The latter was the current youngest disciple of Mountain Lord Chen, which could be considered a half-closed-door disciple. If she was also a sword cultivator...

The Yellow Millet Sect didn't dare to publicize this, afraid that being indiscreet would make Fallen Mountain misunderstand their intentions, turning a good thing into a bad one.

But there are no airtight walls in the world. As soon as it was known that two high-status cultivators from Fallen Mountain had lodged at Lou Mountain, word spread, and soon everyone knew. As a result, guests who had requested to observe the ceremony—some whom they originally couldn't have invited even if they tried—came. The number of observers at least doubled.

Even Cloud Gorge Mountain sent a law-enforcing patriarch and two old peak masters.

The Dream Grain Kingdom's emperor himself came up the mountain. The Mountain Lord Mei, first among the kingdom's Five Marchmounts, and the Water Goddess, foremost among water deities, also came—to escort the emperor, of course.

The old cultivator in charge of welcoming and sending off guests at the Yellow Millet Sect complained incessantly while his eyes couldn't hide his smiles.

How many years had it been since the Yellow Millet Sect had enjoyed such glory!

Before Huang Cong rose to leave, he hesitated again, wanting to say something.

Gao Zhen still pretended not to see, keeping his eyes lowered, staring at the chessboard. In truth, Gao Zhen knew perfectly well why the emperor had come to the mountain. The so-called escaping the bustle or observing the ceremony were lame excuses. The real intention was to see if there was any chance to establish a bond of incense friendship with Fallen Mountain. He didn't hope that the young Hidden Officer would set foot in Dream Grain Kingdom. Huang Cong also didn't dare to hope that he could visit Fallen Mountain without being turned away at the door. He only hoped for someone like Chen Lingjun or Guo Zhujiu—any registered cultivator from Fallen Mountain—to serve as a court advisor or guest elder for Dream Grain Kingdom.

But such matters were beyond Gao Zhen's authority. Since the emperor didn't speak up, Gao Zhen pretended to be foolish and deaf, taking no initiative.

This young emperor, who had ascended the throne during a time of chaos, had great pride. Otherwise, if he only wanted to find an advisor or guest elder for Dream Grain Kingdom, he could have simply gone to Cloud Gorge Mountain himself and sought out an old Nascent Soul immortal to be the chief advisor—it wouldn't have been difficult.

The neighboring kingdoms all knew that this young emperor had dismounted from horseback and donned the dragon robe.

Because when Huang Cong was still a prince, he had personally led troops to the Great Li secondary capital battlefield. He had even lain in a pile of corpses before being found and pulled out.

And in that war, the Dream Grain Kingdom's Ministry of War, aside from the old-timers, had almost all its young officials replaced.

Thus, Dream Grain Kingdom was the first in Vase Bottle Continent to restore its kingdom and shed its vassal status after the war ended. There were still many people originally from Dream Grain Kingdom serving in the six ministries and minor nine-ministry offices of the Great Li secondary capital.

Seeing that Gao Zhen didn't take the bait, Huang Cong smiled self-deprecatingly, with no displeasure on his face or in his heart. Every family has its hard-to-read scriptures. He shouldn't trouble Gao Zhen and the Yellow Millet Sect.

The rules and intricacies of the mountains—were they any less than those of the official world below?

He would have to find that Immortal Chen, who called himself "The Little White Strip of the Yangtze's Waves, the Little Dragon King of Fallen Mountain," for a drink another time.

But he figured it would really just be a drink.

Last time, Huang Cong had shamelessly visited him. This old immortal—a water dragon as a young boy in green clothes—was easy to talk to, approachable, and especially fond of drinking. He quickly became sworn brothers with Huang Cong.

But regarding serving as a court advisor for Dream Grain Kingdom, the other party had been extremely firm, unequivocally saying no, absolutely not. His master wasn't on the mountain, and with such a major matter, he couldn't decide.

Huang Cong was naturally a bit disappointed, but it was similar to the situation in the pavilion now, playing chess with Gao Zhen. Forcing a melon doesn't make it sweet. He wouldn't make things difficult for others.

Moreover, that young boy in green, who shared the same surname as the young Hidden Officer, had seen him off after drinking, full of guilt, saying something that didn't sound like it came from a mountain cultivator: "Brother Huang, sorry. This really can't be done. If we had known each other earlier, I wouldn't have said a second word. Whatever you wanted me to be, I'd be—big official hat or small, it wouldn't matter. We're friends, so it's just a small matter for you to handle. But now, on our Fallen Mountain side, it's essentially closed. That's no joke. After all, it was my master himself who gave the order. You're not familiar with our mountain, so you might not know. Over there, I actually came up the mountain the earliest, and it's also me who has helped the master the least. If I cause him more trouble or create complications, I'll lose face and won't be able to hold my head up."

At the time, Huang Cong was puzzled as to why a dignified Nascent Soul cultivator could be the one who "helped the least" on Fallen Mountain.

Even if it was the young Hidden Officer's mountain, it shouldn't be that way.

But seeing the dejected expression on the young boy's face, Huang Cong chose to believe him.

Finally, that young boy in green seemed to remember something. Suddenly, he smiled, patted his chest, and assured Huang Cong, "Next time I see the master, I can bring up this situation. As long as the master nods, and Brother Huang doesn't mind, I'll take the position! Brother Huang, rest assured. When it comes to the master, I'm always shameless. And if the master doesn't object, I can also help pull in a good friend of mine named Mi to be at least a nominal guest elder for your Dream Grain Kingdom—no problem!"

Huang Cong naturally wouldn't refuse such kindness.

Maybe the other party was just being polite after sobering up, or maybe not.

After walking a distance, Huang Cong looked back. The young boy in green was still standing there, grinning, waving goodbye, and finally swaying his sleeves as he walked back inside.

In his heart, the emperor's deepest desire was to meet certain people from Fallen Mountain. Topping the list, of course, was the young Hidden Officer. Closely following was a female grandmaster.

If he could just see them, Huang Cong wouldn't even need to talk about advisors or guest elders.

----

Chen Ping'an indeed hadn't deceived Qing Tong. In fact, Lu Chen's out-of-body yin spirit, along with a certain Chen Ping'an who had re-created a dream, were now together inside that stone cave.

Chen Ping'an, with a jade hairpin in his hair and dressed in green robes, and Teaching Master Lu Chen, wearing a lotus crown, stood together at the edge of the stone wall. Lu Chen raised his hand and could touch the cave's ceiling.

In this tiny space, Pure Yang Daoist, who had formed his golden core here, seemed to have left no Dao traces, only an old worn-out meditation cushion woven from the simplest sedge grass.

Lu Chen walked around the cushion once, keeping one hand on the wall. He stopped and said, "This cushion—I can't see anything special about it."

Chen Ping'an, hands still tucked into his sleeves, stood in place and asked, "Since Patriarch Lu didn't set any mountain or water restrictions, why do you think no woodcutter or herb gatherer has stumbled into this place in all these years?"

Lu Chen shook his head. "Most likely none."

Chen Ping'an turned around and leaned against the stone wall. "That child?"

Lu Chen sat down cross-legged on the cushion, palms up, fingers forming a hand seal, smiling. "It's just giving that child an extra path to walk. Won't be superfluous. Qi Zhen is very measured in his actions. He'll place the child at Autumn Hair Observatory—won't overreach or squander the child's potential. By the way, the child is now named Ye Lang—the 'ye' of 'leaf,' the 'lang' of 'parvenu.'"

Chen Ping'an asked doubtfully, "Does that child really have cultivation aptitude?"

Lu Chen shook his head. "Strictly speaking, he shouldn't cultivate. Even if he knocked his head bloody at the Yellow Millet Sect's mountain gate, he wouldn't be allowed up the mountain to become an immortal. But this child has spiritual insight. Cultivation aptitude is visible to the naked eye. Spiritual insight—it can be said to be greatly useful or completely useless. For example, whether in the Azure Green World or this Righteous Heaven, many nameless monks in temples, in terms of their deep understanding of Buddhist teachings, may not necessarily be inferior to those Buddhist leaders with upper-five-realm cultivation. But if they can't cultivate, they just can't. Fortunately, that doesn't hinder their cultivation of Buddhist dharma."

Chen Ping'an asked, "Can that child handle the opportunity you're giving him?"

Lu Chen smiled and nodded. "You should see the symbols he draws on the ground—quite extraordinary. Unfortunately, they have the spirit but lack the form—an air castle. If he hadn't met you and me, his situation in life would be similar to those monks I mentioned."

Chen Ping'an turned his head to look at Lu Chen, who was sitting cross-legged on the cushion, and said with a straight face, "In martial arts novels and tales of the strange, there are always scenes: one is chased by enemies, falls off a cliff—well, this place is a bit like that—and then accidentally discovers the bones of a great master or the relics of an immortal. Without saying a word, kowtows a few times, maybe triggers some mechanism or restriction, and obtains a martial arts manual that, once mastered, makes one invincible under heaven. Why don't you give it a try? There's no one but us here—nothing to be ashamed of."

Lu Chen nodded like a chicken pecking rice. "Right, right. That kid Jiang Yunsheng loves reading these miscellaneous books. When he was guarding Hanging Mountain, and after he became the city lord, he still did."

Chen Ping'an had a deep memory of that little Dao boy, always seen with a book. "Did he become the city lord of Shenxiao City or Qingcui City?"

Lu Chen laughed. "City lord of Qingcui City. A special promotion—it's rare in history for someone who isn't an Ascension-stage cultivator to become a city lord of the Jade Capital."

Of course, it was due to Lu Chen's slight help. But at the same time, Jiang Yunsheng had to face a life-and-death tribulation—that was a real test. Survive, and he would be a legitimate city lord of Qingcui City, not just seen as a gatekeeper with an empty title. If he failed, he'd have to wait for the next life.

Because when Lu Chen returned to the Jade Capital from the Heaven Beyond the Heavens, he had imprisoned a mustard-seed-sized external heavenly demon, and in front of his senior brother Yu Dou, he threw it into Jiang Yunsheng's Dao heart.

"If the Dao is one foot tall, the demon is ten feet tall."

Lu Chen laughed. "Can we dissolve the other dream now?"

Chen Ping'an pretended not to hear.

Lu Chen sighed. Because inside that "Former Patriarch Lu Shrine," a dream was still evolving along the Dao.

At that moment there, Lu Chen, Lu Sheng, the young peony spirit, that group of wild cultivators, the two spirit lords of illicit shrines... were still talking there.

Chen Ping'an seemed never to have appeared, and that Lu Chen hadn't seen through the young peony's identity. He continued drinking with Lu Sheng. The two parties who had stopped fighting in the courtyard were still awaiting judgment...

Chen Ping'an said, "Anyway, it won't last much longer and will dissipate on its own."

Like a brush dipped in thick ink, writing cursive script in one breath—no matter how many words, the ink on the paper always fades and dries.

Lu Chen stopped dwelling on such trivial matters and said out of nowhere, "Is there really a recluse in this world?"

Chen Ping'an had no intention of responding. Seeing that Lu Chen showed no sign of getting up, he simply sat down at the edge of the cave, dangling his feet over the cliff, quietly looking into the distance.

"Chen Ping'an, do you think if the Age of Dharma's End truly comes, the people of that time will argue and debate whether there were any cultivators in the world?"

Lu Chen answered his own question: "The biggest problems seem to become trivial if there is at least a 'one.'"

"We've all gotten used to thunder and rain, sweating under the sun, mortals suffering birth, aging, sickness, and death, the withering and flourishing of grass and trees in heaven and earth... Chen Ping'an, do you think the things we take for granted as 'natural law,' this thread of cause and effect—if we trace it back to its source, who can be responsible for this thread? If life is a matter of debt and repayment, who is the guarantor in the middle? What kind of existence is that? I once asked my senior brother about this question. He gave me an evasive answer, saying it was just a small question. So I asked, in his view, what was the real big question?"

"My senior brother smiled and replied, 'If the entire heaven and earth is considered a single 'one,' then can we cultivators, with our methods and divine abilities, add a hair's breadth to this seemingly eternal 'one,' or subtract a hair's breadth?'"

"Written words? They still don't count. The river of time? Even less so. Chen Ping'an, what do you think?"

Chen Ping'an finally spoke. "I don't have much to think. I only think that you think dreams can barely count as one, because among the twelve high-level deities, that Imagined One, in your opinion, may not truly stand at the end of the Dao. Otherwise, there would be six supremely high ones, not five."

Lu Chen sighed mournfully. "Worrying me to death."

Chen Ping'an asked, "You seem very afraid of the Buddha?"

"Back then, I thought I had completely broken through the barrier of words, so I traveled to the Western Buddhist Kingdom."

Lu Chen didn't hide anything. "The Buddha once interpreted a dream for me. In that realm of explaining dreams with dreams, the Buddha used his inconceivable great divine power to completely blur the boundaries between Mount Sumeru and a mustard seed, and between eternity and an instant. I couldn't even calculate how long the time was in that dream—tens of millions of years? Hundreds of millions? All kinds of births, all kinds of deaths; I changed into countless identities, presented in countless forms, ever-changing, ever-uncertain."

Chen Ping'an smiled. "With divine arts at your side, that's called 'the boldness of the skilled.' Learn the immortal methods, and you can walk the world without fear."

That sounded familiar. The first part was phrasing from the earlier dream; the latter part seemed to be Fellow Daoist Sun's catchphrase.

Lu Chen stood up, then bent down, intending to take that cushion he "couldn't see anything special about" with him.

Chen Ping'an said, "Let no one take it. Leave it where it is."

Lu Chen looked disgruntled, had to gently place the cushion back, and pretended to dust it off. Suddenly curious, he asked, "In that dream of yours, the part about me—how far has it progressed?"

Chen Ping'an said, "He inexplicably lost his realm, was called a lecher by the girl and slapped in the face. His face was swollen, and he was still shouting, 'I am really Teaching Master Lu of the Jade Capital!' yelling, 'The sun and moon can attest! By heaven and earth!'"

Lu Chen said with anguish, "That harsh?!"

Chen Ping'an smiled. "What did you think?"

Lu Chen rubbed his hands together. "Since I was called a lecher, were there any hugs? If not hugs, at least I touched the girl's face or hands?"

Chen Ping'an said, "Slaps landed on your face—does that count as your face touching the girl's hand?"

Lu Chen let out a "Heh." "I like this crooked reasoning."

Chen Ping'an took out a long-stemmed tobacco pipe and began to smoke, clearly familiar with the motion.

After a great war, for the Nine Continents of Righteous Heaven, it was like a major test of people's hearts.

Just this Vase Bottle Continent's mountains and rivers had changed customs, as if people had been reborn.

Lu Chen came over and sat next to Chen Ping'an. He asked casually, "Before you go to the Azure Green World, besides that journey with Liu Jinglong, what else? Just cultivate, cultivate, cultivate?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head. "Of course not. After the journey, I'll be a village school teacher in Huangting Kingdom. And I'll write a travelogue of mountains and rivers for Xiao Mili."

He was currently compiling a travelogue about a young wanderer who, at Mute Lake, met a deep-hidden water monster. He invited it to travel with him, and they soon fought side by side against the Yellow Sand Patriarch who was plaguing the region. After a battle of wits and courage, full of danger, they won. Later, the Mute Lake water monster learned that the wanderer was the young mountain lord who had once visited Fallen Mountain in a dream. They called it fate, so he served as the wanderer's strategist and advisor, crossing mountains and rivers, invincible, making demons and monsters tremble. They often engaged in poetry duels, never losing...

Chen Ping'an said out of nowhere, "It's rare that you get along with Xiao Mo."

"'Donkey is an appendage to horse, just one character 'door' added.'"

Lu Chen shook his sleeves and said frivolously. "A broad heart means a narrow Dao is not narrow. Xiao Mo and I are truly fated."

Because after "donkey is an appendage to horse," there is another sentence that no one might take seriously, but Lu Chen must not overlook.

"Spider is the enemy of butterfly."

And Lu Chen's seven heart-phases were: wooden chicken, toon tree, mole, roc, oriole, young phoenix, butterfly.

Lu Chen turned his head to look at Chen Ping'an.

Inside a certain wooden gate of Chen Ping'an's heart-dwelling, there was a peach tree.

But he didn't know if, after today, a new spring would come, and the peach leaves could meet the peach blossoms.

Chen Ping'an then casually talked about some of his future cultivation life.

When his interest arose, in the heavy snow of deep winter, he would take a small boat, warm wine over a stove, and go admire the snow on the lake.

During the heavy rain, he would wear a straw raincoat and a bamboo hat, stand by the river, and watch the great waters transform like dragons and snakes.

When he broke through in martial arts, he would arrange a fight at sea with Cao Ci.

He had heard that the plum blossoms at Mount Jiuyi were especially beautiful this year, so he would go see them.

Lu Chen smiled. "Just listening makes my heart long for it."