Chapter 943: Pushing Out the Old and Bringing in the New
Lu Chen followed as he walked out of that pavilion with the plaque "Thousand Autumns" and the couplet that was merely the two characters "Dream" and "Awakening." After descending the steps, he turned his head to take a look.
He wondered when it would be that he next revisited this old haunt.
"That old master from our kiln back then, Old Yao's identity—when you were running that fortune-telling stall back in the day, did you already know?"
"At the time, this poor Daoist wasn't entirely certain of Old Yao's identity; I could only make a few guesses. Pushing the heavenly mechanisms in Shri Pear Cave Heaven was the most thankless and laborious task, and it was very easy for things backfire."
"Then what do you think, did Mr. Qi know?"
"Qi Jingchun spent a full sixty years in Shri Pear Cave Heaven, and with his status as a seated sage, he most likely knew long ago. That's why, when I later reviewed this matter in retrospect, especially after taking a trip down the River of Time, I was truly caught off guard."
The massive heavenly tribulation accumulated by the small town over three thousand years, along with the karmic ties of all the townsfolk, was destined to be unavoidable and would never fall into empty space. But those willing to clean up this mess were actually, apart from the Confucian Qi Jingchun, also Old Yao, who had great origins but remained deeply hidden, hailing from the Western Buddhist Kingdom.
So when Qi Jingchun initially prepared to leave Shri Pear Cave Heaven with Zhao Yao, either he knew about this matter and could thus leave with peace of mind, or he was certain of it but did not change his original intention, merely using a kind of deception. As for the reason, it was probably the four-character plaque of that Crab Workshop in the town: "Take Duty Without Yielding"?
In simple terms, from Chen Ping'an's perspective, it was like he himself, his senior brother Yu Dou, and the entire Jade Capital City had all been thoroughly tricked by Old Yao.
But Lu Chen accepted his loss with full conviction. Since his skill was inferior, he would obediently stand still, stand at attention, and take the beating.
Just as Lu Chen himself had said, he had been too arrogant. Before setting out, his Dream Interpretation and the gathered heart-images were far from sufficient. He merely thought he had already attached enough importance to it, but in truth, he had still underestimated the depth of Shri Pear Cave Heaven and the complexity of its many threads.
"Did the Confucian Temple regard Mr. Qi back then the way they later regarded Mr. Bai when he traveled far with his sword to Fuyao Continent?"
"Mm, somewhat similar. That's why there was that sigh from the little master of the Confucian Temple."
"The real killing intent seemed to arise when Mr. Qi brought out his second lifebound character? Is the Dao of the Jade Capital City really that narrow?"
"This is a murky account where each side has its own justification."
During his travels, the youth from Mud Vase Alley had never voluntarily set foot in any Confucian academy, any incense-flourishing Daoist temple, or Buddhist monastery.
The first exception seemed to be the Heart-Image Temple in Lotus Flower Blessed Land, where he often chatted idly with the old monk about ordinary things. And later, the Golden Cassia Temple in Green Luan Nation, where he attended the first mountain ceremony in his life. Apart from the Cliff Academy personally founded by Mr. Qi, there was only the later occasion when he, as the Hidden Officer, participated in the deliberations at the Central Confucian Temple.
Before that, the straw-sandal-wearing youth was like a frog at the bottom of a well, seeing only the moon in the water and not the sky, or rather, the sky he saw when he looked up was only as big as the mouth of the well.
"Then why are you still willing to entrust the bright moonlight of the Barren Heaven to Senior Brother Yu Dou, who guards the Azure Heaven for a hundred years?"
"Two different matters. Yu Dou was also willing to cross heavens and lend his sword to Mr. Bai."
"When someone was visiting the Jade Capital City, he said a strange, cryptic remark to this poor Daoist: 'When Senior Brother Yu Dou governs the Jade Capital City, on the roads of the Azure Heaven, the cart wheels crush countless roadside flowers and grasses, yet the driver sees it as ordinary.' I still haven't figured out to this day what he meant by that. Of course, it's not that I don't even understand the literal meaning. I'm just wondering who exactly he was referring to."
"It's a ghost that was very afraid of ghosts, then finally stopped being afraid of ghosts. In the end, whether it was afraid or not, it didn't seem to matter anymore."
Chen Ping'an and Lu Chen chatted idly like this as they walked back to the courtyard together. Even Qingtong and Nen Daoren couldn't see anything unusual.
Before going down the mountain, Chen Ping'an presented a congratulatory gift to the Lou Mountain Ancestral Hall of the Yellow Millet Sect, in celebration of the successful opening of a peak by that young golden core cultivator.
It was an arrow engraved with cloud-pattern talismans, inscribed with the two characters "Time and Tide," originating from the Jade Slab City of the Cloud Pattern Dynasty in the Barren Heaven. The karmic ties had already been erased by Chen Ping'an, who at the time possessed the Dao techniques of the Fourteen Realm.
At any rate, it was far more valuable than two Grain Rain coins.
Earlier, at the side of Emperor Huang Cong, Chen Ping'an had also given a gift to celebrate the restoration of the Mengliang Kingdom.
He gave the young emperor a piece of bright red ink stick from the mountains, with three golden characters: "Treasured Like Gold."
Additionally, Chen Ping'an gave the young emperor a bamboo tube brush inscribed with "Everlasting Green for Ten Thousand Years," a secret manufacture of the Northern Marchmount Lord's Mansion on Piyun Mountain.
It was rumored that the green bamboo used to make the tube came from the Green Spirit Mountain green bamboo in the Central Bamboo Sea Cave Heaven. Hence, the quantity was extremely small and exceedingly rare. In the Great Li Northern Marchmount territory, someone with an inquiring mind had once carefully tallied that, after so many night wandering banquets, the mountain lord Wei Po had never given away more than ten such bamboo brushes.
Ni Yuanzan planned to stay in the Mengliang Kingdom territory for a while longer than expected before returning to Jiang's Cloud Nest Blessed Land.
Naturally, this was to give away that golden core. But as for who to give it to, Ni Yuanzan had his own plans. The old temple head had left a clue back then.
However, that matter need not be discussed with outsiders.
As for Chen Ping'an and Lu Chen, if both sides could rely on their own abilities to accurately calculate the trend of this matter and were completely indifferent to the existence of an old temple head, then proceeding without any scruples—that had nothing to do with me, Lu Sheng.
When Chen Ping'an learned that Ni Fuzi intended to stay here, he went with the flow and suggested that Ni Fuzi serve as a nominal guest elder of the Yellow Millet Sect.
Ni Yuanzan didn't mind this. After a little thought, he agreed, smiling, "As for the Jiang family head and Cloud Nest Blessed Land, I'll have to trouble Mountain Lord Chen to put in a good word."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "It shouldn't be a big problem. I'll personally write a letter and send it to the Jiang family ancestral hall."
In addition, Chen Ping'an left for Lou Mountain a "Daoist scripture" written in his own hand, entrusting Ni Fuzi to pass it on to Gao Zhen.
He said it was left by a senior mountain figure who once cultivated here, waiting for the fated person.
As to whether it would naturally come to fruition, Chen Ping'an wasn't certain. Matters of fate were never easy to determine.
Chen Ping'an chatted with Guo Zhujiu for a while, then prepared to leave Lou Mountain and return to Tongye Sect.
Lu Chen squatted under the eaves, grinning at the green-clad little boy.
Chen Lingjun hid behind his master, silently telling himself not to think about anything.
The young emperor found Gao Zhen, sincerely thanked the head of the sect, and then apologized before leaving Lou Mountain.
The West Marchmount of Mengliang Kingdom, Lord of Song Mountain, and the goddess of Wangyue River, Nalan Yuzhi, were naturally responsible for escorting the emperor back to the capital.
This trip, where he hadn't even truly participated in the mountain-climbing ceremony, was an extremely unexpected joy for the young emperor, a full harvest in his return.
Because Chen Lingjun would become a royal tutor of the Mengliang Kingdom, after the ceremony ended, Chen Lingjun needed to make a trip to the capital. Becoming a royal tutor of a nation was no small matter.
Moreover, now there was an additional procedure: he needed to report and file a record at the Great Fu Academy.
Gao Zhen and the Lou Mountain Ancestral Hall were overjoyed to learn that a Jade Purity realm sword immortal was willing to serve as a nominal guest elder of the Yellow Millet Sect.
As for that "Daoist scripture," Gao Zhen understood its importance and the rules of the mountains well. He would not publicize it widely but would simply continue to place it in a corner of some bookshelf, truly waiting for the fated person.
Gao Zhen also spoke sincerely to the young Hidden Officer: "Mr. Chen, there was truly no need for this. This kind of opportunity was right under our noses all along, but how many years had our Yellow Millet Sect missed it? Whether it was you, Mr. Chen, or that Li Huai—whether you took the book secretly or brought it down the mountain openly—I wouldn't dare say that no one in the entire Yellow Millet Sect would have any complaints. But as for me, Gao Zhen, I would never have any improper thoughts."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "It's precisely because Sect Head Gao can say such words that I am willing to entrust this book to you, and I believe that one day, someone in the Yellow Millet Sect might obtain this fate."
Gao Zhen didn't bother with insincere words either. He just sighed, "If everyone could cultivate like this, the mountains would truly be mountains."
The young Daoist named Lu Fu nodded vigorously. "Who says it isn't so?"
At the same time, the young Daoist reached out and pressed his hand on the head of the green-clad little boy beside him, making him nod along like a chick pecking at rice.
The green-clad little boy grinned. He endured it, endured it.
He would settle scores when the Sect Leader Lu returned to the Azure Heaven.
New Year's Eve, Fallen Mountain.
Before the New Year's Eve dinner, Nuanshu had been busy all day. Early that morning, before the sky had even begun to lighten, the pink-skirted little girl had already cleaned all the houses on Fallen Mountain. After finishing, she carried a bamboo basket and walked down the mountain with Old Mr. Zhu. At the mountain gate, she first greeted the Daoist Xianwei, then hung the sword talisman of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect at her waist before flying by wind toward the town. In addition to her master's ancestral home on Mud Vase Alley, Nuanshu also had to go to the easternmost house in town. Mr. Zheng was traveling and hadn't returned; the house had been empty for a long time. And this year, Liu Xianyang wasn't spending the New Year in his hometown; he had taken Sister Yu to the new site of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect. Liu Xianyang had long ago left the keys with Nuanshu, the little steward of Fallen Mountain. After finishing these tasks with Old Zhu, it was already afternoon, and she had to help her master visit the graves. In the bamboo basket, besides a bundle of incense sticks, there was also a white porcelain plate with a few slices of tofu, a piece of meat, and glutinous rice cakes—all prepared by Old Mr. Zhu on the mountain. Although there was a tradition in her master's hometown that women didn't visit graves, Old Mr. Zhu said it was fine. When Pei Qian and Xiaomili were on the mountain before, they were always inseparable and would work together. This year, they had both gone to Xian Du Mountain on Tongye Continent.
Then she returned to the town, to the ancestral home on Mud Vase Alley, where they started pasting Spring Festival couplets and the characters "Spring" and "Fortune." Earlier, with her master's permission, Nuanshu also helped the neighboring house put up new "Fortune" characters and couplets.
Then she flew back to the mountain with Old Mr. Zhu to continue working. Old Mr. Zhu tied on an apron and busied himself in the kitchen.
Tomorrow was the first day of the New Year. According to the customs of her master's hometown, every household would set aside their brooms, able to rest for a day, doing nothing. According to an old saying in the town, otherwise, the whole year would be very laborious.
From Lotus Flower Blessed Land, the fox kingdom ruler Pei Xiang and the water flood dragon Hong Xia were both summoned by Zhu Lian to Fallen Mountain before dinner. During the New Year, they couldn't let things be bleak and quiet.
And the new gatekeeper, Daoist Xianwei, who never slacked off regardless of wind, sun, or rain, had also come scampering up the mountain early to freeload food and drink.
In the future, no one should try to take this post from me. Sorry, even if the Heavenly King descended, I wouldn't budge.
You need to have some conscience. All of you—either sword immortals or martial arts grandmasters, or immortals with accomplished cultivation—you have the nerve to compete with me for such a minor job as gatekeeping?!
Who? If you have the guts, step forward. Come on, let's confront each other face to face. This Daoist won't say a word before going to find Mountain Lord Chen to help settle the matter.
Xianwei came up the mountain early. The old cook was preparing the New Year's Eve dinner, so Xianwei helped little Nuanshu set up the ladder to paste couplets.
He had hands and feet, so a small favor like this was no trouble at all.
Besides, this Daoist had sharp eyes. How could he not see Nuanshu's importance to Mountain Lord Chen?
And he had to add: little Nuanshu often came to the mountain gate, bringing some pastries and snacks. Two small food containers—the full one brought down the mountain, the empty one brought back up.
Hearts are all made of flesh. Daoist Xianwei's heart was warm.
After so many years of drifting and wandering, enduring countless disdainful looks, he had suffered no small amount of hardship. If his life experiences could be opened like an old ledger, page after page would write: no money, flat broke, price hike, not even able to afford staying in an immortal inn, let alone approaching their doors; in the shops at the immortal ferry, he dared only to look, not touch. He was often looked down upon. But it wasn't entirely their fault. In short, the entire book was filled with the three words "Nothing to be done."
Finally, he had a place to settle down. He thought he'd be living under someone else's roof, keeping a low profile—eating a meal, how could there be no humiliation? He never expected that here, there was truly no grievance at all. They say the world's flavor grows thin year by year, but he never expected that he, Xianwei, had actually turned his luck around. From now on, if anyone bullied little Nuanshu or gave her the slightest grievance, he wasn't good at fighting, but he'd be the first to start cursing.
Especially when the pink-skirted little girl said a phrase with a double meaning, the fake Daoist, whose Dao name was Xianwei and real name Nianjing, almost shed tears on the spot.
"Our family's year has been good this year. I hope next year's year will be even better. I believe it will definitely get better!"
Zhu Lian also called over the young man and woman from the Cao family, who were like a pair of jade beauties, living at the back mountain. Everyone had a lively New Year's Eve dinner. Having spent time together, the handsome pair from the Great Li prime minister clan were no longer as reserved as when they first arrived.
Cen Yuanji had gone to her home in the prefectural city. At Dragon Riding Alley, Zhu Lian didn't call anyone.
Shi Rou had already come to regard the shop there as her home. Pei Qian's eldest disciple, the mute little boy, wasn't keen on coming to the mountain either, so it suited him fine to have a New Year's Eve dinner with Cui Huasheng from the neighboring shop and the white-haired boy who called himself Konghou—that would make another full table.
After the New Year's Eve dinner, Zhu Lian and Nuanshu cleaned up the utensils together. Pei Xiang wanted to help, but she received a glare from a certain heartless man, so she had to desist.
Then came the vigil.
In the town, the old folks had either passed away or moved away. Now, only a few households still practiced the custom of asking after the evening meal.
Little Nuanshu was going to keep vigil on the first floor of the bamboo building. She wasn't exactly alone. The pink-skirted little girl sat by the brazier, with the little lotus person lying on her head, reading a book together.
After Xianwei ate, he hurried down the mountain. He also kept vigil while reading.
The previous gatekeeper, Zheng Dafeng, had left behind a "mountain of books." Xianwei couldn't help but sigh: "The sea of learning is boundless; in the book..."
That Brother Dafeng, whom he hadn't yet met, was a paragon of romantic grace, truly a divine being!
Since he was here, Hong Xia went to Yellow Lake Mountain, to the water mansion there, to keep vigil with Yunzi.
In Zhu Lian's courtyard, there was an old blanket spread on the recliner.
But Zhu Lian sat on a bamboo chair nearby, holding a hand warmer, letting Pei Xiang lie on the rattan chair.
Pei Xiang lay comfortably, hands gently folded, squinting with autumn-water eyes, and asked casually: "Eating New Year's Eve dinner, then keeping vigil with people—unimaginable."
Zhu Lian smiled. "When the novel becomes not novel, yet things remain the same—that's when it's truly unimaginable."
Pei Xiang turned onto her side, folded her hands, and rested her cheek on her palms. "Since no one's around, let me take a look at you?"
Seeing that the fellow didn't respond, pretending to be deaf and dumb, she said to him: "I promise I won't get handsy. Just a feast for the eyes."
Zhu Lian didn't look at her, just smiled. "Soliciting me?"
Pei Xiang huffed, glared, and said: "What are you saying? Disgusting me is one thing, but how can you be so disgusting yourself!"
Zhu Lian chuckled.
Pei Xiang said softly: "Yan Fang, tell me a story, won't you?"
Zhu Lian laughed. "Here we go again?"
Pei Xiang complained: "Can't you talk about something serious?"
"Serious? Then we need to talk about the Patriarchs coming East. In the ten thousand years of the Haoran Heaven, among so many Buddhist hopefuls, only one scripture has been produced."
Zhu Lian thought for a moment, then began to narrate: "Pei Xiang, you should know that the first patriarch of the Zen sect in the Haoran Heaven actually came from the Western Buddhist Kingdom. According to the ranking that us ordinary folk like, he was actually the twenty-eighth patriarch? Mm, you look confused, so you must not know. Back in my blessed land hometown, I once saw a book of gods and demons, author unknown. At first glance, it seemed to venerate Buddhism, but in reality, it was disparaging it. Now, looking back, it's hard to say. It was probably about a monk from the Central Lands who made a grand vow to go to the Western Buddhist Kingdom to seek the true scriptures, experiencing countless tribulations along the way, and finally at the Buddha's place, he was harassed by the later first and second patriarchs of the Zen sect, given wordless scriptures, and the monk used his valuable possessions to exchange for the 'true scriptures' again. At that time, I was still a youth, naive and unread. When I got to that part, I wanted to pull that hateful 'anonymous author' out and give him a good beating, thinking: 'I've forced myself to read this book almost to the end, and this is what you, the story-weaver, show me?' When I reached middle age, I realized the meaning in this was truly profound. When the monk first obtained the wordless Buddhist scriptures, were they truly false? The later written scriptures, were they truly true? You need to know that the Zen tradition is 'not established by words, transmitted outside the teachings.' However, as I grew older, I had another question: perhaps the monk had already seen through this tribulation, but thought that one person becoming a Buddha was not as good as all sentient beings becoming a Buddha? For ordinary people, they might still need some steps and ladders, like the work of paving roads and building bridges. So you see, in later generations, the Zen sect had the orthodox dispute over the position of the Sixth Patriarch, splitting into the Southern School of Sudden Enlightenment and the Northern School of Gradual Enlightenment. Although it is said that there is a distinction between the Southern and Northern Schools in people, there is no distinction between them in the Dharma, yet in the end, a difference of sudden and gradual still emerged. I've heard that in a place called 'Martial Forest' in the Haoran Heaven, at the foot of South Screen Mountain, there is a thousand-year-old ancient temple with a plaque reading 'Possessing the Equality Phase.' Truly wonderful."
Pei Xiang listened, entranced.
Zhu Lian smiled slightly. "All conditioned dharmas are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, shadows, like dew, like lightning; they should be seen as such."
Pei Xiang laughed. "I still know that line."
Zhu Lian shook his head. "We have only heard of it, not truly known it."
Pei Xiang smiled. "You're the boss."
Zhu Lian held the hand warmer. "Let me test you with a riddle? What kind of flower grows underground?"
Pei Xiang thought it was some profound, Zen-like question, so she shook her head, not wanting to embarrass herself.
Zhu Lian laughed. "Peanuts."
Pei Xiang was speechless for a moment.
Zhu Lian chuckled. "Our Little Mili is really something."
"Of all the pleasures in the human world, that one is the most unattractive. Guess what it is?"
Zhu Lian answered his own question: "Taking another nap after waking up."
After a ferry crossed the continent, it was as if a new little peak had emerged. Zhou Mili, Chai Wu, Bai Xuan, Sun Chunwang—they had all gotten quite familiar with each other.
In Bai Xuan's words, that little girl Sun Chunwang with dead fish eyes only had a smile that was uglier than crying when she was around the Right Protector.
On Fallen Mountain, the one who had secretly given herself the title of Mountain Patrol Officer, Xiaomili, made two patrols a day, morning and evening, unwavering.
When she arrived at Dense Snow Peak on Xian Du Mountain, Xiaomili went to the Kite Ferry Boat. She still went out twice a day, but it was slightly different from Fallen Mountain. On Fallen Mountain, after patrolling, she would go find Pei Qian, Nuanshu, and the others to play. On Xian Du Mountain, she would go to the ferry and circle around that Kite Ferry Boat.
A little girl in black, with a cloth bag slung diagonally across her shoulder, a golden shoulder pole on her shoulder, and a green bamboo staff in her hand. She didn't board the ferry; she just sought her own amusement near it—eating melon seeds, stacking stones, playing hopscotch. Every day, she would go down the mountain early in the morning, return at noon for a meal, and then go back down the mountain quickly.
Bai Xuan often accompanied Xiaomili down Dense Snow Peak to wander around the ferry, but he couldn't help muttering complaints: "Brother Mi the Sword Immortal is in closed-door cultivation on his own turf. What are you worried about? Not to mention that big white goose and Pei Qian, just the guests visiting us—Guo Ran from Central Iron Tree Mountain, Ye Yunyun from Pu Mountain Cloud Herb Hall, and Huang Ting from Taiping Mountain—every single one of them can fight. Who dares to come to our Xian Du Mountain and disturb Brother Mi's seclusion? On New Year's Eve, coming here to get beaten up—not worth it, right?"
Xiaomili just grinned and didn't explain.
Later, Bai Xuan nagged a lot, but Xiaomili never got annoyed. Once, a sudden inspiration struck, and she said to Bai Xuan: "It's easy to do a good deed and not get a single word of thanks."
Bai Xuan, walking with his hands behind his head, swaggering along the mountain path, was greatly surprised. "The Right Protector understands human affairs so well now?"
Xiaomili went "Ha!"
It was Sister Nuanshu who said it. Borrowed it for use.
Bai Xuan couldn't help asking again: "Since you're in a hurry to get to the ferry and loiter around, why don't you use wind control to go up and down the mountain?"
Xiaomili explained seriously: "Flying by wind is for looking at the mountain, not for patrolling the mountain."
Bai Xuan thought about it for a long time and couldn't find a rebuttal.
Today, after Bai Xuan finished his sword practice on the mountain, he flew by wind from Dense Snow Peak to the ferry. He accompanied Xiaomili, sitting on the ferry railing and eating melon seeds, staying for a full hour or so, from sunset to dusk. Bai Xuan looked up at the sky and said: "Right Protector, when are you going back up the mountain?"
According to the big white goose, if the Hidden Officer returned to Xian Du Mountain today, they would have the New Year's Eve dinner; otherwise, they would save it.
Xiaomili scratched her face. "I'm planning to go back a bit later today."
Bai Xuan said: "I have to go back up the mountain to practice my sword. Aren't you afraid to go back alone?"
Xiaomili laughed heartily. Bai Xuan, you know how to tell jokes now.
Bai Xuan left first, formed a sword incantation, and gracefully flew back by sword to Dense Snow Peak.
On Dense Snow Peak, the Iron Tree Mountain immortal Guo Ran (Dao name "Dragon Gate") and Huang Ting almost simultaneously sensed a sharp and unparalleled pure sword intent emanating from the ferry area, but it was fleeting.
One was a celestial immortal, and the other was a Jade Purity realm sword immortal. Both were extremely surprised. He had only been in closed-door cultivation for a few days? Not only had Mi Yu successfully broken through his realm, but he had done so quickly and had already stabilized his realm's aura?
One marveled that Sword Immortal Mi, as a native sword cultivator of the Sword Qi Great Wall, was worthy of the name.
The other praised Mi Yu for deserving his nickname "Mi the Waist-High" and that it was no wonder he could enter the Summer Retreat Palace.
Sword Immortal Mi, dressed entirely in a snow-white robe, walked out of the ferry cabin. He looked up at a certain house on Dense Snow Peak, paused for a moment, then immediately withdrew his gaze. Sure enough, he saw that little figure hopping around by the ferry.
Instantly, Mi Yu's gaze softened.
He lightly tapped his toe, his figure drifting toward the little girl in black. Fearing he might startle her, he landed not far in front of her and smiled: "Right Protector, what are you up to, still patrolling the mountain so late?"
Xiaomili's expression was radiant. She quickly ran up to Mi Yu: "Brother Mi the Sword Immortal, what a coincidence! I was just about to head back to Dense Snow Peak. If you had come a little later—just a little while—you wouldn't have seen me here; we'd have to meet on the mountain."
Mi Yu realized: "Ah, I see. What a coincidence, what a coincidence."
Seeing the little girl's expression of wanting to ask but not daring to, Mi Yu squinted and smiled: "Finally broke through."
Xiaomili immediately hugged her golden shoulder pole and green bamboo staff, giving a double thumbs-up. "Wow! Amazing!"
The big one and the little one slowly walked together toward Xian Du Mountain.
Mi Yu asked: "Xiaomili, do you know that everyone in Fallen Mountain—including me, of course—all really like you?"
Xiaomili stepped lightly, her shoulders swaying. "Of course, I know."
This little head of mine is very bright indeed.
Mi Yu nodded. "I see."
Xiaomili hesitated for a moment, then said softly: "But being liked is something that is hard to come by and needs to be cherished. It's even harder than not being disliked, so it's not something to show off. It should just be a happy thing to hide in your heart. Then, when you're in a bad mood, you open the door, and you'll be happy. Open the door and feel good—that's why it's called 'happy heart.'"
Mi Yu, with his hands behind his back, squinted happily. "I think even the Hidden Officer couldn't have put that better."
Xiaomili giggled. "Pei Qian always says I'm a little flatterer. Brother Mi the Sword Immortal, why are you copying me?"
Of course, Mi Yu knew that Xiaomili had been waiting outside all these days.
She hoped that when Mi Yu opened the door, he would see someone waiting for him.
On the mountains of the Haoran Heaven, this was rare.
In their homeland, where dead sword cultivators had no graves, it was even rarer.
And Xiaomili was an exception. She wasn't waiting for a Sword Immortal Mi who had broken through his realm.
She was just waiting for Yu Mi. Simple as that.
Mi Yu's gaze was tender. He crouched down and said softly: "Xiaomili, thank you."
Xiaomili grinned. "Thank me for what? Brother Mi the Sword Immortal is so polite that it almost makes me angry."
The little girl in black put on a stern face and shook her head. "When I get angry, I can be really fierce. Even the good Mountain Lord is scared!"
Xiaomili lowered her voice and said: "Yu Mi, I should thank you too."
"Why?"
"If I tell you, keep it a secret."
"Mm. I promise I won't even tell the Hidden Officer."
"Back at home, I often acted as a door god for Pei Qian. Sigh. Every time Pei Qian saw me, she wouldn't be as happy as you are."
At this point, Xiaomili quickly looked up. "Don't misunderstand. I'm not saying anything bad about Pei Qian. Pei Qian is very good. A thousand good things, ten thousand good things. If I listed all of Pei Qian's virtues, ha, I'm not bragging—I could go all the way to the house on Dense Snow Peak and still not be finished. It's just that on this one tiny, fingernail-sized matter, you're not as good as Yu Mi. Ha! From now on, everyone will have to follow me and call you Brother Mi the Sword Immortal."
Mi Yu stood speechless, stunned.
Damn it. Even Mi Yu, a philanderer who had wallowed in a hundred flowers, at that moment wanted to settle down, quickly find a good girl, marry her and make her his wife, and have a precious daughter like Xiaomili.
Dense Snow Peak, a residence.
A young man in white sat on a railing, like a white cloud that had paused.
Under the eaves of the tall building hung a large string of wooden tablets, like wind chimes, inscribed with names of song lyrics. When the wind blew, the tablets gently clinked together.
There were: Autumn Clear, Brow Charm, Profit Kill, Mountain Gradually Green, Water Dragon Chant, Eyes Alluring, Nightwatch Leak, Water Tune Prelude, Fortune Teller Slow, Thousand Autumns Ten Thousand Years, Flowers and Snow Pile on Mountains, Lotus Leaves Spread on Water, Spring Comes from Heaven, Enter My Dream, Wind and Waves Settle, Good Things Close...
A celestial ferry belonging to the Mengliang Kingdom royal family slowly rose into the sky. In its history, the Yellow Millet Sect had a private celestial ferry port, which was the predecessor of the current Cloud Rosy Peak's "Immortal Qiong Ferry." Before Cloud Rosy Peak renamed the ferry, it was actually called "Touzhu Ferry." As the Yellow Millet Sect's incense waned, first Touzhu Ferry fell into disuse due to insufficient income, then it was leased to Cloud Rosy Peak, and later it was simply bought out by Cloud Rosy Peak. Now, trying to repurchase Touzhu Ferry from Cloud Rosy Peak was a fool's dream. So the Yellow Millet Sect had been thinking of building a new ferry port, but the difficulty was too great. Within a single kingdom, especially a place like Mengliang Kingdom, it was unlikely to have two large-scale celestial ferry ports at the same time, which could easily lead to a series of mountain disputes between Cloud Rosy Peak and the Yellow Millet Sect.
So the emperor had also been in a difficult position. Both sides were his flesh and blood; he couldn't favor the Yellow Millet Sect too much, especially since Cloud Rosy Peak was a candidate for becoming a sect mountain. Just like Sect Head Gao Zhen's previous dilemma, he could only be clear in his heart but play dumb.
But before descending the mountain today, the young emperor was no longer troubled. He made a promise to Gao Zhen: he would allocate a portion of the lands outside the capital, under the name of "lease," to the Yellow Millet Sect to build a celestial ferry port. According to the Confucian Temple's ritual system, the lands had specific directions and regulations; they had to be located in the "zhen" (east) direction of the capital. As for the size of the lands, as long as a thousand mu was guaranteed, there was some flexibility. However, Gao Zhen did not agree to this, saying such an act would invite too much envy. He joked that if the old disciplinary officer from Cloud Rosy Peak, who had come to observe the ceremony, learned of this, he would probably just storm off. So Gao Zhen only requested a piece of land with manageable spiritual energy in the territory of the West Marchmount Lord of Song Mountain for the new ferry port.
Inside a room on the ferry, the decoration was simple. The young emperor began to review memorials, occasionally laughing and cursing.
Nalan Yuzhi teased: "If Sect Head Gao were to mingle in officialdom, he could easily become a minister of one of the six boards."
Lord of Song Mountain glared at her. His Majesty was handling official business; what was she interrupting for?
Huang Cong put down his brush, rubbed his wrist, glanced at the small mountain of completed memorials, then looked at the pile still to be done. He shook his head helplessly. It was both intellectual and physical labor.
Nalan Yuzhi smiled and asked: "Your Majesty, now that you've seen the Hidden Officer, what are your thoughts?"
Huang Cong smiled slightly. "I feel a bit conflicted. When Mr. Chen sits upright and discusses matters seriously, it's like the summer heat—inescapable. But when he chats idly, it's like a spring breeze—relaxing and pleasant."
Nalan Yuzhi said: "I only have one observation."
Huang Cong was curious. "Let's hear it."
Nalan Yuzhi said: "That young Hidden Officer seemed a little afraid of me?"
Lord of Song Mountain said crossly: "You really have the nerve to say that."
Huang Cong laughed heartily. "On this matter, I stand with Lord Song Mountain. Mr. Chen simply exudes righteous energy that drives away rouge and powder."
Lord of Song Mountain said gravely: "Your Majesty, do we need the Ministry of Justice's Inspectorate to investigate that Lu Fu from Qiuhao Temple? If the ministry's immortal tutors shouldn't show themselves, I can send my spies from the Lord's Mansion. I always felt that fellow acted too absurdly, not like..."
Seeing Lord of Song Mountain searching for the right words, Nalan Yuzhi interjected: "Not like a proper person."
Lord of Song Mountain nodded. "But not like a villain either. After all, he was climbing the mountain to observe the ceremony with the Hidden Officer of Chen."
Huang Cong shook his head, leaned back in his chair, and stretched his arms. If only Lord Song Mountain were here, and the goddess of Wangyue River were not present, the young emperor would have lifted his feet and propped them on the table. He waved his hand: "No need to create trouble. Mountain passersby. We pass by, brush past, and it's hard to meet again."
Nalan Yuzhi couldn't help laughing: "How does Sword Immortal Chen have such an out-of-sorts friend?"
Interesting, truly interesting. He dared to say anything. Boasting costs nothing.
Huang Cong thought for a moment. "I always feel they aren't really friends. It's just a feeling."
The young emperor suddenly became annoyed. "I should have asked Mr. Chen back at Lou Mountain to write down the 'calligraphy sample' for the auspicious New Year greetings of Mengliang Kingdom."
All rulers of Haoran Heaven had the custom of writing the first brush for the New Year. The emperor needed to stay up late to welcome the new year on behalf of the country.
When midnight passed and the new year arrived, the chief eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial would hold a white jade candle to light the way for the emperor. The brush eunuch would hand over an imperial brush, spread out gold-flecked paper, and grind cinnabar ink. The emperor would then write auspicious phrases like "May the new year be all peace," "Rivers clear, seas calm, seasons harmonious, harvests abundant, welcome spring and receive blessings." These auspicious banners would be posted in the important halls of the inner court, known as "opening the brush."
The emperor would then symbolically peruse the new year's almanac compiled by the Imperial Observatory, signifying that the ruler had designated the seasons and reviewed the year for the nation's people.
Afterwards, he would also write characters like "Fortune," "Longevity," and "Spring" to bestow upon his ministers.
This was also an important reason why Huang Cong hurriedly left Lou Mountain.
Nalan Yuzhi smiled: "We haven't been gone from Lou Mountain long. We can turn the boat around."
Huang Cong was clearly tempted. "That wouldn't be quite appropriate, would it?"
Lord of Song Mountain noticed the emperor's gaze and said helplessly: "Your Majesty, why are you looking at me?"
Huang Cong laughed: "I have another feeling. Among the three of us, you get along best with Mr. Chen."
Lord of Song Mountain rarely showed a broad smile.
Huang Cong turned to the water goddess: "Well? Is my flattery skill now at its peak?"
Nalan Yuzhi covered her mouth and laughed: "Your Majesty is the supreme ruler. Why flatter a mountain lord?"
Huang Cong nodded. "The only ones I truly need to 'flatter' are the people of the country."
Outside the window of the room, a familiar face peered in, hands resting on the windowsill. The young Daoist wore a lotus crown instead of a fish-tail crown on his head.
He raised a rolled-up piece of paper in one hand and smiled: "Don't give me the boot. This poor Daoist has traveled a long distance to grant His Majesty's wish. As for the auspicious opening brush greeting, it's written right here. Although it's not personally penned by Mountain Lord Chen, you don't know—Mountain Lord Chen's calligraphy was all learned from this poor Daoist. Tell me, could it not look alike? Your Majesty can treat it as Chen's genuine work."
Lord of Song Mountain was about to shout, rebuking this utterly rule-breaking Daoist from the Divine Proclamation Sect.
Nalan Yuzhi found it even more interesting.
But the young emperor had already stood up, bowed with clasped hands toward the window, and said: "Huang Cong of Mengliang Kingdom pays respects to Sect Leader Lu!"
Lu Chen leaned on the windowsill, tilting his head. "Eh? So smart? This poor Daoist always says: sharp ears and bright eyes, can hear everything, see everything. A well-chosen name, it is."
Lord of Song Mountain managed to keep his composure, but Nalan Yuzhi's face had lost all color.
Then, the "Sect Leader Lu" performed a somersault, landed lightly, and spread the rolled paper on the table.
The paper bore sixteen characters, indeed an auspicious phrase:
"Winds and rains in season, five grains abundant, all under heaven in peace, nation prosperous and people safe."
Lu Chen led the young emperor out of the room to the bow of the ship.
Huang Cong asked: "Sect Leader Lu, do you have any instructions?"
Lu Chen smiled and asked: "What if this poor Daoist asked you to deal with Chen Ping'an? Regardless of success or failure, I'll give you a heaven-splitting fortune. How about it?"
Huang Cong just shook his head.
Lu Chen asked again: "What if this poor Daoist changed it to: the people in this Mengliang Kingdom's mountains and rivers will live and work in peace for several hundred years?"
Huang Cong still shook his head.
Lu Chen smiled. "No need to be so nervous. This poor Daoist was just speaking casually."
Huang Cong remained tense, and unbeknownst to him, sweat was pouring down his back.
Lu Chen said: "Later, go find that Cao Rong. Tell him that his master Lu Chen orders him to look after the Mengliang Kingdom somewhat. Let the term be three hundred years."
Huang Cong hesitated, wanting to speak.
Lu Chen, hands in sleeves, said calmly: "Just do as I say."
Huang Cong nodded, cupped his hands, and said: "Thank you, Sect Leader Lu, for bestowing your dharma edict."
Lu Chen pulled his hands out of his sleeves and leaned on the railing. "A youth smiles as he walks out the door, a thousand miles of falling flower wind. Now, in a green robe, he returns with a sword, the mountain river full of spring breeze. I wonder what the prime of life and old age will look like."
With the world as a cage, no bird can escape.
The mountains-and-waters wanderer of the human world; youth is most pure of thought.
The beautiful woman gave me a gold-inlaid knife.
The Sword Qi Great Wall, Sword Qi draws near.
Straying into the depths of lotus roots, observe the way, observe the way, observe the way.
Drawing a prison on the ground for oneself, "I have been wrestling with myself for a long time."
The distant traveler raises his head like a dragon, seeing the moon in the sky above his heart.
The hardest knowledge is the night boat trip; life is an inn, a night journey by candlelight.
Sword repairers mend the earth's deficiencies; heaven-selected immortals play the game.
Watching others' lives is like flipping through a book. What about the next volume?
Lu Chen pulled out a flask of wine, removed the clay seal, took a sip of the immortal brew, and looked south toward Tongye Continent, then glanced at a certain place in Vase Continent, muttering to himself: "Life is a dream, you and I together. When you are drunk and leave, I also leave. Gone, gone."
Lu Chen finally looked south again at the central part of Tongye Continent, then his body transformed into a rainbow and shot toward the sky. This Third Sect Leader of the Jade Capital City did not go through the gate guarded by the Confucian accompanying saint, but directly broke through the Haoran Heaven's sky, heading straight for the Jade Capital City in the Azure Heaven. There, at the highest point, he looked around, his gaze roaming, surveying the various fourteen-realm cultivators' daoist sites or current figures—whether hidden or out in the open, Lu Chen took them all in. He stretched lazily and murmured: "Prepay five hundred years of new ideas, but after a thousand years, they feel stale again. Ha! Well said: Pushing out the old and bringing in the new."