Chapter 950: Future Matters
A thin, frail Daoist priest, wearing a felt hat, a mended blue cotton Daoist robe, and thick cotton shoes, walked along the road like a swaying bamboo pole.
Beside him walked a burly middle-aged man with a saber at his waist, the handle polished to a gleaming patina. The man had started growing a beard a few months ago, and soon his face was full of bushy whiskers.
They were walking together on the road back to their hometowns, which were not far apart—only thirty or forty li—both within the boundaries of Wuling Commandery.
In truth, the Daoist priest was more than twenty years younger than the man, but his face aged prematurely, making him look at least ten years older.
The key point was that although this Daoist priest did not have an officially recognized ordination certificate—he followed the private ordination path—he was a genuine cultivator of the Dao. His close friend, on the other hand, was a pure martial artist.
The two had journeyed far and wide together, returning from their travels. This trip had taken several years, and they had visited many places, encountering many strange people and extraordinary events.
They were none other than Wang Yuanlu, a "Rice Bandit" sect Daoist, and Qi Gu, a martial artist of the Sword-Wielding lineage.
One was a consummate Jade Purity realm cultivator, the other a peak ninth-realm martial artist on the verge of a breakthrough to the next realm.
In the Azure Underworld, just by looking at the term "Rice Bandit," one could tell that the situation for Daoist priests of this lineage was not good. They were similar to the Corpse-Emancipating Porter and the One-Character Master—not exactly heretical practitioners who would be hunted down in the streets, but it was best not to approach the White Jade Capital territory. Once discovered, they would most likely be invited to be guests in the Five Cities and Twelve Towers.
Qi Gu asked, "Do you think I should accept Zhu Xuan's invitation?"
During their travels, they had passed through Yongzhou. Among the fourteen states of the Azure Underworld, Yongzhou was a Feng Shui treasure land with the most abundant water transportation.
The Qingshan Dynasty in Bingzhou and the Yufu Dynasty in Yongzhou were the most powerful dynasties in their respective states, unrivalled behemoths.
Somehow, the two had been discovered by the young female emperor of the Yufu Dynasty. Zhu Xuan personally appeared and invited Qi Gu to serve as a royal priest.
However, both sides knew clearly that the Yufu Dynasty's female emperor Zhu Xuan was essentially cutting in line. Because Qi Gu was a martial artist on the verge of breaking through to the Stopping Realm at any moment, in the capacity of "the strongest" — if he broke through in the Yufu Dynasty, it would bring a substantial amount of martial fortune as a gift. Therefore, Zhu Xuan not only offered the position of a royal priest but also made an extremely generous offer. Not to mention the salary, just the promise of a weapon from the royal secret treasury, which Qi Gu could use for three hundred years, was extremely tempting. This peerless famous spear, named "Breaking the Formation," had always been the Yufu Dynasty's national treasure. It could innately counteract the formations of cultivators. If Qi Gu became a Stopping Realm martial artist and wielded this spear, he would be invincible against any cultivator below the Immortal realm.
Not to mention determining victory or defeat—the opponent would probably find it hard even to escape.
Which of those who could be listed among the young and reserve top ten, whether cultivator or martial artist, didn't have a few trump cards?
On the other hand, the Qingshen Dynasty seemed completely indifferent to where Qi Gu broke through. So far, not even a Daoist official had appeared, let alone the Emperor or Prime Minister Yao Qing.
Qi Gu was quite angry.
I am at least a ninth-realm martial artist. Am I so unworthy of your notice?
Wang Yuanlu said, "Anyway, as soon as you see a pretty woman, you can't move your legs."
Qi Gu said irritably, "You only dare to act tough at home."
Wang Yuanlu was indeed only bold in front of him. When facing outsiders, he would stutter and couldn't speak clearly. For example, in front of the female emperor Zhu Xuan, Wang Yuanlu kept his head down, his ears red, and he answered only one out of three questions. Previously, at Lu Tai and Yuan Ying's place, the Daoist priest drank too much, and somehow, after a few words from that Young Master Lu, he drank to the point of sadness. With a poor tolerance for alcohol, he cried profusely. At least he didn't go into a drunken rage.
Perhaps the only exception was that old Daoist Sun of the Xuandu Temple, whom Wang Yuanlu had been calling a cheap "ancestor" for years.
In front of the old temple master, Wang Yuanlu indeed had quite a heroic spirit. He even dared to call him a "old melon rind" to his face.
The old temple master was the unwavering fifth-ranked person in the world. Especially his mantra, "I, this poor Daoist, delight in being kind to others and never hold grudges overnight," was famous throughout the Azure Underworld.
So Qi Gu had privately advised Wang Yuanlu to be more polite when speaking to that old immortal, but his advice was ineffective.
"If I go home this time and can't even see Liu Jing, I won't bother warming a cold ass with my hot face anymore."
The more Qi Gu spoke, the angrier he got. He cursed, "Damn it, really, the flower at home is not as fragrant as the wild flower. Then don't blame me for blooming inside the wall and being fragrant outside."
Wuling Commandery, located in the imperial domain of the Qingshen Dynasty, was a place teeming with wealthy and noble families and powerful clans. The abundance of ancestral virtue was unparalleled in the entire state.
Wuling Commandery governed five counties: Changmao, Junyang, and Ping. It was not only the site of the imperial tombs but also originally the place where the Qingshen Dynasty specifically gathered and settled its founding nobles.
The current commandery governor, Liu Jing, was a member of the imperial clan and also held the title of Supervisor of Daoist Temples, overseeing all Daoist temples in the capital and its vicinity.
Additionally, the various mountains and rivers in the Qingshan Dynasty had Directors of Daoist Temples appointed, often used by the court to place elderly, idle ministers, more of an honorary title.
Wang Yuanlu said, "Be careful, Yao Shoufu might be watching you."
Qi Gu asked, "No way?"
Wang Yuanlu frowned slightly. "Hard to say."
Qi Gu hesitated for a moment, then used a voice-concentrating technique to whisper to his close friend, "Thank goodness our Bingzhou is under the jurisdiction of Green Emerald City. Otherwise, we would have been brutally suppressed by the Second Old Master of the White Jade Capital long ago. Wuling Commandery would never have the vitality and atmosphere it has today."
Wang Yuanlu said, "Same source, different currents, so the nature of water differs. Commoners live near water and naturally prefer gentle currents. If there are floods every few days, no one can stand it; they would cry out in grievance."
Qi Gu laughed. "Occasionally you can come up with some sense."
Qi Gu remembered something and said, "I heard that the Yu Jiaozhu has taken on a new disciple."
The Daoist priest grinned. "Lucky fate, not something to envy."
Qi Gu teased, "Xu Jun's fate is the real good one."
The Daoist priest thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Sect Leader Xu's fate isn't just good... no, Sect Leader Xu's fate isn't actually good. Having a tough fate is the real skill."
Qi Gu said, "One day, I will marry Bai Ou as my wife. That would truly bring glory to my ancestors!"
The Daoist priest habitually lowered his head, tucked his hands into his sleeves, and hunched his shoulders. "A fiery woman. If you really marry her, it'll be like chewing on facing-heaven peppers every day."
Qi Gu's eyes sparkled. He shook his wrist and grinned. "As long as I beat her once, I can marry her. Even if I lose to her a hundred or a thousand times after that, no problem!"
Fighting, after all, came in two types.
The Daoist priest muttered quietly, complaining, "Why do you have to talk so vulgarly?"
Qi Gu let out an "Eh?" "You understood that?"
Within the last hundred years, as if the harvest had been abundant, Wuling Commandery had produced a large number of heaven-blessed talents who attracted attention from all states. Among them were two candidates for the young top ten of several worlds.
Additionally, from the Difei Mountain Huayang Palace, one of the ancestral temples of the Talisman School, there was a young cultivator with the Dao name "Youran." And from the Caishou Mountain, there was a female Daoist official with the Dao name "Nanshan." Both were recognized as celestial immortal embryos, now young Nascent Soul cultivators.
The two people on the road were also younger generation from Wuling Commandery. Youran and Nanshan were also among the three thousand Daoist officials sent to the Five Colors World. Although they came from hostile sects, they were born on the same day, month, and year, even at the exact same hour. Such a perfect match had caused subtle changes in the hearts of the Daoist officials from Difei Mountain and Caishou Mountain.
In fact, Wang Yuanlu and Qi Gu had very much wanted to go to the Five Colors World together, but the rules set by the Confucian Temple of the Haoran World were in place, and both of their realms exceeded the threshold, so they couldn't go.
In the eyes of the mountain Daoist officials, this Wuling Commandery was a treasure trove, a nest of immortals.
In the eyes of several worlds, it was a golden jade cultivation ground comparable to the Lizhu Cave Heaven of the Haoran World.
There were both idle rich young masters who lived off their ancestors' merits and "Wuling youths" who "had heroic spirit in youth and would fight fiercely in due time," willing to die on the border. There were also young wandering swordsmen who would spend a thousand pieces of gold to help those in distress, chivalrous and bold.
In any case, they were all world-famous Wuling youths.
But in the eyes of Wang Yuanlu and Qi Gu, it was just their hometown.
The rich were very rich, and the poor could be so poor they couldn't open their pots. Everyone lived their own lives.
On the grassy plains, on the official road, brightly colored clothes and spirited horses raised dust. A group of wealthy travelers with gold saddles and jade bridles arrived.
These young men and women, riding fine horses, wore swords on their hips and carried bows on their backs. They rode out in search of flowers, romantic and heroic, full of spirit and sharpness.
The Daoist priest was the exact opposite: timid, furtive, with a shifty-eyed, cowering demeanor.
Wang Yuanlu quickly moved aside, not wanting to contest the road, actively avoiding those extremely robust and extraordinary tall horses. Qi Gu had no choice but to stand by the roadside. After that group of noble scions galloped away, Qi Gu raised his hand to wave away the dust, while with the other hand he habitually scratched his crotch. He laughed. "When it comes to appearance, it really depends on good breeding. Neither of us is much to look at; we got a bad deal. So when we marry, we have to find a good-looking one."
Wang Yuanlu didn't respond. He was silent for a moment, then said, "That habit of scratching your crotch—if you can change it, do. If a woman sees it, your appeal at least halves."
Qi Gu laughed. "My thing is too big to position properly."
Wang Yuanlu said, "How come every time we pee, you're the one to fasten your belt first?"
Qi Gu was speechless. Why do you have to compare with me on this?
The two passed a roadside pavilion where a group of gamblers were throwing dice. Qi Gu rubbed his hands together. Wang Yuanlu glanced sideways.
Qi Gu chuckled. "Don't worry. Same old rules. Since I promised you, I'll keep my word. Not today. I'll send you home first."
Qi Gu had had a problem since childhood: an addiction to gambling.
Later, he met Wang Yuanlu and they became friends. Qi Gu promised, patting his chest, that from now on, following him would guarantee everything they needed.
But Qi Gu had suffered two major losses due to gambling, once in the capital of the Qingshen Dynasty and once in Luzhou.
Both times, Wang Yuanlu had rushed to hear the news and helped him settle things. The so-called "settling" was simple: if I, Wang Yuanlu, can't settle things with money, I'll settle them with my life.
Twice, he rescued Qi Gu, cutting a bloody path out.
It could even be said that the reason Wang Yuanlu became a "Rice Bandit" Daoist priest was all because of Qi Gu.
But in those years, Wang Yuanlu would at most complain to Qi Gu, "Following the big brother, three days and nine meals of hunger."
Wang Yuanlu's thinking was simple and unadorned: Agreeing to be your friend was my choice. Since we're friends, we have to act like friends.
If a friend doesn't treat me as a friend, that's a problem with my judgment. Nothing to complain about. After suffering a few times, if I can't stand it, I'll just go my separate way.
Later, Wang Yuanlu set a rule for Qi Gu.
As long as you're at the gambling table and not thinking about making money, gamble as much as you like. Hundreds or thousands of taels of silver, even immortal money, it doesn't matter. If you have no money, borrow from me to gamble, no problem.
But if you're thinking about making money, even if it's just a few coins of small stakes, don't gamble. Otherwise, we won't be friends anymore.
Wang Yuanlu's only principle in making friends was not to be stingy. Having a few heart-to-heart friends—only such people were worth befriending.
Qi Gu asked, "Still not planning to break the window paper? Not going to reveal your identity to your brother?"
Wang Yuanlu said helplessly, "I'm scared."
Qi Gu said gloomily, "It's my fault."
If Wang Yuanlu were not a heterodox Daoist priest of the "Rice Bandit" sect but had received ordination from the Qingshen Dynasty court, his brother's family would have also benefited from a "Dao attainment ascension, immortals reaching even the dogs and chickens." Not to mention immense wealth, but setting up a household in Wuling Commandery, spreading branches and leaves, and continuing the incense for a few generations might have made them a local prestigious family. Now it was impossible. Because of him, Wang Yuanlu had too many enemies in the mountains.
Wang Yuanlu shook his head. "It's not like that. A small life has its own stability. My elder brother also has his own fate."
Qi Gu could only take it as his friend comforting him.
Wang Yuanlu's elder brother was named Wang Yuanfu. His father-in-law was a local butcher. Today, the butcher, holding a pair of intestines and a catty of loose wine bought from a roadside tavern, wandered to the door of his son-in-law's mud-walled house. With a sour face, he looked at his daughter and son-in-law, who had come out to greet him, and complained, "I've really hit rock bottom, had bad luck. I married my daughter, who should have married into a wealthy family as a wife, to you, this worthless, penniless wretch. Over the years, I don't know how much trouble you've cost me. Now, I don't know what virtue my ancestors accumulated, but it's brought you the status of a Daoist acolyte. Now you have even more reason to avoid honest work. Your heart's grown fat. In the future, I don't know how much of my hard-earned silver you'll cost me. It's as if I owed you in a past life, and you've come to collect debts in this one. If there is a next life, be sure to remember to repay me."
Wang Yuanfu bent low, not daring to talk back. He glanced at the wine jug and swallowed his saliva—he was indeed craving a drink.
As expected, after the old man drank the wine, he would still take the jug home.
The status of a Daoist acolyte, which the father-in-law claimed was brought about by him, was actually a candidate for Daoist priesthood, similar to a tong sheng (child student) scholarly title in the Haoran World. With this status, every three years, one had the opportunity to take the county magistracy yuan shi (prefectural examination). If successful, one could participate in the ordination at the prefectural seat and obtain an officially recognized orthodox Daoist priest identity. But it was still one step away from being a true "Daoist official." One had to wait for a vacancy, whether working in the yamen or going to a temple, before one could be considered a proper Daoist official.
The stout, thick-set butcher said to his daughter, who seemed like water already spilled, "Go, boil the intestines, and heat a jug of wine for me to drink."
Wang Yuanfu led his father-in-law into the house, walking slightly behind. The father-in-law spoke loudly, spittle flying. Wang Yuanfu secretly raised his sleeve to wipe his face.
After his father-in-law sat down, Wang Yuanfu shook his robes and sat down gently. The butcher glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. So fussy. He really thought he was a Daoist official. But considering the acolyte status, he held back his words and asked, "What about your younger brother, the one who's never home?"
Wang Yuanfu smiled bitterly. "No news for a long time."
The father-in-law snorted. "Doesn't even know how to send a letter. He was raised for nothing. And he, Wang Yuanlu, is supposed to be literate. How miserable must he be outside to not even be willing to spend the money on a letter?"
According to the village's ancestral hall genealogy, this generation was the "Yuan" generation (原字辈), so names needed to include the character "Yuan." In fact, Wang Yuanlu's real name was Wang Yuanlu (originally 王原路, but the text says 王原箓). The brother is named Wang Yuanfu, so they are all of the Yuan generation. The younger brother's name is Wang Yuanlu, also known as Wang Yuanlu. Fortunately, he, Wang Yuanlu, is literate. The butcher calls him Wang Yuanlu. So we can keep it as Wang Yuanlu.
Wang Yuanfu still dared not talk back.
In the Azure Underworld, Daoist officials had a variety of titles and identities. Not only cultivators could become Daoist officials. Mortals without cultivation aptitude could also obtain ordination certificates by passing government examinations, though they would be granted different ranks of Dharma registers (法箓). Besides those issued by the court, there were also hereditary ones, and certain accomplished Daoists would select outstanding disciples and secretly transmit talismanic formulas to expand their sect.
For someone like Wang Yuanfu, whom his father-in-law looked down upon from all angles, even if he luckily became a Daoist official, he would most likely remain like a turbid-stream petty official, not entering the pure-stream ranks. His future promotion path would be relatively narrow. He would probably be assigned to a remote, small Daoist temple or a idle post in some pure-water yamen like the county Baogao Si Yunniang Ju (宝诰司酝酿局). But for Wang Yuanfu, who came from a poor background with no connections, if that day ever came, it would already be a great honor to his family, something worthy of burning incense and worshipping ancestors in the village ancestral hall.
Just like his younger brother Wang Yuanlu, who had studied Daoist scriptures and legal codes for nearly twenty years and taken the examinations multiple times, but still hadn't passed to become a full-fledged Daoist official. The main reason was that in Wuling Commandery, the quotas for ordination certificates were limited—a typical case of too many monks and too little porridge. Those rich young masters studied from childhood, had famous teachers to pass on knowledge, so they naturally had inherent advantages, and they were good at guessing the exam questions. After all, the chief examiner, a Daoist with the title of Vinaya master (律师), had his own art of setting questions. Also, it was because the younger brother Wang Yuanlu had too high aspirations, got stuck in a dead end, and was determined to pass the exam to become the Weiyi master (威仪师) of the largest Daoist temple in his hometown. If he succeeded, after a few years of "walking" experience, he would have a chance to be responsible for hosting the temple's liturgical rules and rituals, directing the Daoist officials' dignified movements.
But becoming the Weiyi master of the largest Daoist temple in Wuling Commandery—how could that be easy? Not to mention Wang Yuanlu, even those pampered sons of wealthy families whose ancestors had once been prosperous and whose families hadn't declined much—they were all fighting tooth and nail for it, weren't they?
The father-in-law said, "That younger brother of yours is a worthless thing. It's best if he never comes back. You say it's just another pair of chopsticks, but it's still a problem."
Back then, when his daughter asked him to help her brother-in-law, he found him an apprenticeship at a silver workshop in the county town. What a good livelihood that was! Otherwise, where would the saying "No thief better than a silversmith" come from? Unexpectedly, that kid didn't appreciate kindness and flatly refused, insisting on staying in the mountains.
As luck would have it, the father-in-law and son-in-law were just talking about Wang Yuanlu.
Then Wang Yuanlu came home, standing outside the threshold, calling out, "Brother."
Seeing his younger brother whom he hadn't seen for several years, Wang Yuanfu was inwardly pleased but still put on a stern face. He started to stand up, but after lifting his buttocks slightly, he quickly sat back down on the bench. He just nodded and said, "Go to the kitchen and say hello to your sister-in-law."
Wang Yuanlu said "Mm" and turned to leave.
The butcher slapped the table. "He sees me and doesn't even say hello. Doesn't know any manners, this thing."
Wang Yuanfu smiled. "Yuanlu has always been like this since he was a child. His nature is a bit withdrawn. He's not close to anyone."
The butcher sneered. "With that cowardly demeanor of his, even if he wanted to get close to someone, who would be willing? He's over thirty and can't even find an ugly woman to warm his bed. If it were me, I'd have no face to go to the graves and worship ancestors. I'd rather smash my head against a wall and die. Burn high incense, and in the next life, be reborn into a better fate—at least don't be so ugly. If he walks on the road late at night, never mind scaring people to death, even ghosts would be scared to death by him."
Wang Yuanfu's face was awkward. After all, it was his father-in-law, so it was hard to get angry.
Later, during the meal, the butcher and Wang Yuanfu sat at the table. Wang Yuanlu absolutely refused to sit at the table to eat. He just picked a few bites of vegetables with his chopsticks and squatted at the door holding a bowl.
Wang Yuanfu urged him once, knowing his brother was very stubborn and didn't understand social niceties. Since he couldn't persuade him, he gave up.
Wang Yuanlu was outside the door, head down, eating his rice. Qi Gu didn't come to the door; each went to his own home.
The rice in the bowl was packed very solidly, pressed down hard with the rice spoon. When the rice was almost gone, Wang Yuanlu held the large white bowl and stared blankly ahead.
No resentment toward heaven or others for a hard life, silently smiling while eating bitter herbs.
Wang Yuanlu turned his head, then looked up, swallowing the mouthful of rice. He asked, "How come the Bixiao Cave Lord is here?"
Earlier, when the moon had migrated to the Azure Underworld, Wang Yuanlu had seen this old senior from afar in the sky. He had an impressive presence and profound Daoist magic, standing beside the Second Old Master of the White Jade Capital.
He had heard from Sun Guan Lord that this was the Bixiao Cave Lord of the Fallen Treasure Beach. He had lived for over ten thousand plus several thousand years of long time, and he liked to arm wrestle with the Dao Ancestor. If he ever met this senior, it would definitely be right to kowtow a few times without saying a word.
The old temple master said calmly, "Just taking a stroll."
Wang Yuanlu nodded. "Good, just a stroll is fine."
It seemed that the higher the other's Daoist magic, the less the young Daoist priest was intimidated.
The old temple master asked, "What did you see, to be so sad?"
Wang Yuanlu replied, "In the sky, something like a dragon, its massive body silently falling to the ground, covered in flies, maggots, and worms that can't be waved away."
"After some time, it might also be covered with flowers and grass."
"So I'm sad."
"How so?"
"Grass grows, flowers bloom, covering the mountains and fields. Later, they all disappear. Of course, we can wait for the next time. But what if we are those flowers and grass?"
Upon hearing this, the old temple master showed an expression of approval. He smiled. "If you don't cultivate the Dao, who will?"
Wang Yuanlu continued holding the bowl and asked, "Is the world going to fall into chaos?"
The old temple master countered, "What does this kind of future matter have to do with you?"
Wang Yuanlu nodded. "Not for now."
He lowered his head to eat the rice, finishing the last mouthful, chewing slowly and deliberately. The young Daoist priest also chewed on the words "future" and "matter."
The old temple master stroked his beard and smiled. "Fate is made by heaven; establishing one's destiny depends on oneself."
----
In the imperial domain of the Qingshen Dynasty, there was a royal garden called the Changzuo Palace. Within it stood a Three Wutong Temple with bright yellow cloud-pattern glazed tiles, the foremost Daoist temple of the entire state.
Today, Prime Minister Yao Qing and State Preceptor Bai Ou were hosting two distinguished guests here—a couple with a vast age gap: Xu Jun, the sect leader of the Great Tide Sect, and Zhaoge, the founding patriarch of the Two Capital Mountains.
Yao Qing led the couple on a tour of the Three Wutong Temple and then into an elegant room, where Bai Ou personally brewed tea to entertain the guests.
The temple was named so because in front of it stood three parasol trees planted by the founding emperor himself, named Yitong, Wutong, and Jingtong.
A day's plan: plant plantains. A year's plan: plant bamboo. Ten years: plant willows. A hundred years: plant pines. For a plan spanning thousands or tens of thousands of years, plant parasol trees.
The Liu clan of Qingshen, with its long imperial lineage, was unparalleled in Bingzhou.
Those three parasol trees had long since successfully refined themselves into human form and served as royal priests.
This place was also where the previous emperor of the Qingshen Dynasty had died and entrusted his successor.
And Yao Qing was, of course, still the undisputed chief regent minister.
In the Azure Underworld, there was no such rule as in the Haoran World that emperors and monarchs could not cultivate.
Therefore, across the fourteen states, emperors were often both the founders of dynasties and the rulers who lost their kingdoms.
In the Haoran World, an emperor reigning for a full sixty years was considered an extremely rare long-lived monarch. But here, anyone who sat on the dragon throne for less than sixty years was considered a short-lived emperor.
A small, unverifiable rumor circulated among the mountains of Bingzhou: it was said that before his death, the former emperor had a heart-to-heart conversation with Prime Minister Yao Qing.
The former emperor had said, "A young ruler and a suspicious state are not good for the altars of the land. You may take the throne yourself."
Yao Qing replied with a sentence: "If I have the strength to face south, it will be enough to assist the young ruler in becoming a wise monarch."
As for how this private conversation between ruler and minister had spread, Sun Guan Lord asserted with certainty that it must be because our Lu Laosan had played the eavesdropper on the roof and couldn't keep his mouth shut.
The female Daoist official with the Dao name "Fukan" took a tea cup from Bai Ou and laughed. "How did you come to think of challenging that monster to a fistfight?"
She didn't care whether it might offend or rub salt in Bai Ou's wounds.
Bai Ou's appearance was extremely striking, with a natural charm.
She wore at her waist a short halberd of great origin, named "Iron Chamber."
Together with Pei Bei of the Great Duan Dynasty in the Haoran World, they were both female martial grandmasters and both national preceptors of their countries.
About once every ten years, Bai Ou would challenge one of the ten martial artists on the Joint Ranking List to a fistfight.
In the four fistfights she had fought, Bai Ou had won all of them. Three of her opponents died, and the only survivor had dropped in realm.
Thus, the once-every-sixty-years selection of the world's ten grandmasters suddenly lost four, and the martial evaluation became a laughingstock and a decoration.
Although Bai Ou was a woman, she stood at the pinnacle of martial arts in the Azure Underworld, exhibiting an invincible heroic posture.
One short halberd, with unparalleled sharpness, swept the world.
But Bai Ou's choice to challenge Xin Ku of Leap Month Peak was seen by the outside world as anything but wise.
After all, he was a pure martial artist even the Dao Ancestor greatly admired.
Bai Ou's face showed bitterness. She shook her head, unwilling to discuss the matter.
She hadn't even reached the peak of Leap Month Peak; she had only made it to the halfway point before she was hit by a fist.
"It was my suggestion for Bai Ou to go to Leap Month Peak to test her true mettle."
Yao Qing said with a smile. "Lin Jiangxian's two previous interventions were too measured, which could easily make Bai Ou misunderstand and overestimate herself."
Bai Ou and Xin Ku of Leap Month Peak were both at the Spirit-Reaching level of the Stopping Realm in martial arts, ranked second and third in the world.
Yao Qing laughed. "The gap is not small, but it still hasn't revealed the depth of Xin Ku's martial arts."
Bai Ou was completely obedient to Yao Qing, who was both her teacher and father figure.
Zhaoge said, "This 'Rice Bandit' Wang Yuanlu's spiritual awareness is almost as sharp as a Flying Ascension realm cultivator. Hasn't the Qingshen Dynasty considered recruiting him?"
Yao Qing smiled. "That guy is a trouble magnet. The more he avoids trouble, the more trouble seeks him out. Our Qingshen Dynasty can't afford him."
But Bai Ou knew a secret: before Wang Yuanlu made his name, the prime minister had taken her to Wuling Commandery several times to meet this young man. But he never taught him any Daoist magic. It seemed they just chatted casually.
Zhaoge tentatively asked, "Then could Wang Yuanlu come to the Two Capital Mountains? I can guarantee he will become the mountain lord in the future. How about that?"
Yao Qing shook his head. "He and the Two Capital Mountains have no such fate."
Bai Ou had been observing Xu Jun all along. Strange. No matter how she looked at him, this young ghost cultivator didn't seem particularly remarkable.
How could he have so many opportunities?
In the past, the Great Tide Sect and the Two Capital Mountains were mortal enemies. Now, they were equal, with the two sects standing shoulder to shoulder.
Anyway, the sect leader of both was Xu Jun.
There had been objections at the Two Capital Mountains initially, but Zhaoge, as the founding patriarch, had no issues. What could the disciples and descendants do?
Then came the wedding banquet on the mountain, hailed as unprecedented and likely never to be repeated. Among the congratulatory guests, four of the top ten in the Azure Underworld were present:
Yu Dou, Lu Chen, Wu Zhou, and Sun Huaizhong.
If we also included a certain pure martial artist who hadn't revealed his identity at the time and insisted on sitting at a corner table—and who was also Xu Jun's old friend across age differences—that would make five.
That man was Lin Jiangxian, the number one martial artist in the world.
Moreover, Xu Jun's path of cultivation was extremely legendary. Rumors said that Lu Chen, the Third Jiaozhu of the White Jade Capital, had taught Xu Jun a few talismans. Sun Huaizhong of the Xuandu Temple had taught the young ghost cultivator a personal sword technique. Even the Confucian Temple's Second Sage in the Haoran World had guided Xu Jun in his studies. Additionally, the number one alchemist in the world and Lin Jiangxian's fist techniques had also contributed. Because of this, the outside world speculated: Is Xu Jun really the Dao Ancestor's true closed-door disciple?
It was like an exam paper where you already knew the answers. But you, Xu Jun, at least had to put pen to paper, right? From the time he became a ghostly creature, in just over twenty years, Xu Jun had to meet so many great figures. Did he have time for all of it?
Zhaoge said, "Zimei, on this visit, I need to trouble you with one matter."
Yao Qing smiled. "Please speak, Senior."
Yao Qing's courtesy name was Zimei. In terms of cultivation age, Zhaoge was an undisputed senior, being over a thousand years older than Yao Qing.
Zhaoge said solemnly, "I need you to come out of retirement to help protect the way."
Yao Qing asked directly, "Location?"
Zhaoge said, "At the Two Capital Mountains."
Yao Qing asked, "Specific time?"
Zhaoge breathed a sigh of relief. "Not yet determined. Wait for my secret letter."
Yao Qing smiled. "I wish you, the sect leader Xu and Daoist friend Fukan, success."
Xu Jun stood up, stepped back three paces, and respectfully performed a Daoist bow. He said in a deep voice, "Junior thanks Mr. Yao here."
Zhaoge, who had not intended to be so polite, had to follow her husband's lead. She stood up and also thanked Yao Qing.
The female cultivator of the Fourteenth Realm with the Dao name "Taiyin," Wu Zhou, was on very good terms with Zhaoge. When she attended that wedding banquet, before leaving, she had given Xu Jun a refining immortal technique and additionally taught him a long-lost ghost cultivation method.
Her husband Xu Jun was a ghost cultivator.
And in the future, among the several worlds, among the new Fourteenth Realm grand cultivators, it was almost certain that a ghost immortal would occupy a seat.
So Xu Jun not only had to strive, but he had to be quick. He had to hurry and break through to the Flying Ascension Realm to seize the advantage.
In fact, Xu Jun, whose catchphrase was "It's already good enough," had no such intention. But in this matter, his Dao companion Zhaoge was very insistent. So it had to be wife leading, husband following.
Everything was ready, only a period of seclusion was needed.
After Xu Jun and Zhaoge took their leave, Bai Ou and Yao Qing stood under the eaves. She asked softly, "Are you really not going to deal with that Wang Yuanlu?"
Yao Qing smiled. "Beautiful jade is not carved.
Bai Ou hesitated for a moment, but couldn't help asking the doubt in her heart. "It seems Qi Gu is about to break through soon. Are we going to turn away this gift of martial fortune? According to intelligence reports, over at the Yufu Dynasty, Zhu Xuan has come personally."
Qi Gu was not a pure martial artist with deep scheming. On the contrary, he was rather reckless, straightforward, and clear in his likes and dislikes. If his hometown showed a little goodwill, it wouldn't be hard to keep him in the Qingshen Dynasty.
In fact, back during the turmoil in the capital, Bai Ou had held a different opinion from the prime minister.
In her view, they could have taken the opportunity to recruit Wang Yuanlu and Qi Gu, and the two wouldn't have ended up in such a tense situation with the court.
It was during that perilous escape that Wang Yuanlu and Qi Gu each broke through—one to the Nascent Soul realm, the other to the Far Journey realm.
Yao Qing said, "Fallen leaves always return to their roots."
Bai Ou said helplessly, "But they are fallen leaves after all."
Yao Qing smiled. "Wait and see."
Not long after that famous couple left the Qingwu Temple, a man slowly walked over. He was a monk, extremely rare in the Azure Underworld.
Bald head, bare feet, wearing a purple kasaya.
This middle-aged monk had full cheeks, a high nose, and an ancient, wild appearance.
Bai Ou only knew that this wandering monk's secular name was Jiang Xiu, courtesy name Daoyin, and his Dharma name was "Danqing."
As for his face, he must have used an illusion technique. What Bai Ou saw was certainly not the truth.
This monk had been staying at the Waguan Temple in the imperial domain for almost ten years now.
Neither his secular name Jiang Xiu nor his Dharma name "Danqing" had any reputation in the Azure Underworld, but Prime Minister Yao Qing treated him with great respect.
Bai Ou was a pure martial artist; she couldn't see the depth of his cultivation. As for discussing Zen or Buddhist teachings, she was completely ignorant.
The fourteen states of the Azure Underworld imposed extremely strict controls on Buddhist temples and Confucian academies.
Especially for monks, if they wanted to travel and obtain a travel permit, they had to report to the court layer by layer, and nine out of ten applications would be rejected. Even if approved, the specific itinerary had to be reported and filed with the White Jade Capital.
Many dynasties simply banned any monks from entering their territory. Two states even completely forbade temples and prohibited monks from spreading the Dharma.
Bingzhou was relatively lenient, but even in a large dynasty like Qingshen, there were only sixteen temples.
However, the prime minister had overruled all objections, and the court had recently begun planning to build two new temples.
In the Azure Underworld, for a monk to establish a temple might be even harder than establishing a sect in the Haoran World.
This matter required permission from the White Jade Capital. The Qingshen Dynasty had spent considerable merit for it. It was even said that the emperor, mocked by other states as the "Nodding Emperor," had rarely asked the prime minister about the reason.
The purple-robed monk pressed his palms together and said softly, "I, this humble monk, have come to take my leave of Mr. Yao."
Yao Qing smiled and nodded. "Before you leave, Great Monk, remember to leave behind that set of Arhat murals for the Waguan Temple as agreed."
Not every monk in a temple could be called a "Great Monk." Only the abbot, the head monk, and other accomplished high monks deserved this respectful title, and they were few and far between.
Bai Ou's heart stirred. She guessed the identity of the other party.
She remembered that in the Azure Underworld, there was a very mysterious high monk, exceptionally skilled in painting, with a constantly changing appearance and identity. He was self-assured, claiming "My mind is Buddha," and also declaring, "The Patriarch came from the West with no intention."
This monk was especially skilled in painting Arhat images. Whenever an authentic work appeared, it would cause a frenzy. Not only temples, but even the Daoist palaces built by emperors of various states were willing to enshrine the originals. There were even rumors that whenever droughts, floods, or evil demons struck, the local Daoist officials didn't need to set up altars and perform rituals. They only needed to take out an Arhat painting, and whether praying for rain or cleansing impurities, it would always be effective.
The monk smiled. "Sixteen pieces? Eighteen pieces?"
Yao Qing smiled. "Of course, the more the merrier."
The monk said, "I've already finished painting."
Yao Qing didn't find it strange. He asked, "Where are you going next?"
The monk said, "First to Youzhou to enjoy the snow."
Yao Qing performed a Daoist bow in farewell.
The monk smiled and nodded, then loudly chanted a poem, "On the Frontier," which was very popular in the Azure Underworld. He strode away with unparalleled elegance. His figure dissipated, and the heaven and earth spiritual energy showed no ripple. In an instant, he was gone without a trace.
Bai Ou was silent for a moment, then asked, "This person's cultivation level?"
"Aside from Buddhist teachings, his swordsmanship is superb. A single straight qi, unmatched within the seas."
Yao Qing said, "'One sword's cold frost covers fourteen states'—it was said by him and said of him."
----
The New Year's Eve shop on Qilong Lane. Shopkeeper Shi Rou and the Little Mute were staying up late, seeing the old year out.
The neighboring straw hat shop was livelier.
A pair of siblings: Zhao Shuxia and Zhao Luan. A pair of fellow disciples: Zhao Denggao and Tian Jiuer. A pair of teacher and student: the white-haired child and Yao Xiaoyan.
Plus one extra, Cui Huasheng, who had been tricked there by the white goose.
The white-haired child was currently standing on a bench, pulling the two Zhaos to play a finger-guessing drinking game, shouting loudly things like "two good brothers," "five champions," "ten halls filled" and so on.
On New Year's Eve in the small town, there was a custom of "asking for the night meal." People would light lamps, set out a table of wine and food. The elderly and women would guard a fire brazier and not visit each other's homes. They would wait for the young and middle-aged neighbors to come as guests. Neighbors with good relationships would sit down and drink, eat, and play the finger game. Those with casual relationships would mostly drink a cup of wine and leave. Bands of children would enter the house, not sit down, greet the elderly and women who stayed at home—calling out "grandpa," "grandma," "auntie," "aunt" according to seniority—and then fill their bags with fruits, sugarcane, and the like. Only late into the night would each household close its doors. Then early the next morning, the men, as heads of the family, would get up on time because there was a different appointed hour each year for the custom of opening the door and setting off firecrackers to bid farewell to the old and welcome the new. The specific time for opening the door was often deduced by some elderly people in the town. It was said that in the early years, several shopkeepers of the red and white affairs shops in the town were very knowledgeable about these things.
Nowadays, those young people who had moved to the state capital didn't have such refinements. It was said that some even had their household stewards do the door-opening on their behalf, while they themselves slept in.
Although the festive atmosphere in Huaihuang County town was getting thinner year by year—almost no one went door-to-door to ask for the night meal anymore—the two shops on Qilong Lane still followed the old tradition, keeping their doors open and wine set out.
Shi Rou, sitting by the fire brazier, looked up towards the door. A distinguished guest had arrived.
Dressed in a pure white robe.
It was the maidservant beside Song Jixin from the old Mud Bottle Alley, Zhigui. Now the True Dragon King Zhu, elevated to one of the four Water Lords of the Haoran World.
For some reason, the Eastern Sea Water Lord seemed to be in a good mood at the moment.
The New Year's Eve shop was as bright as day. Shi Rou mustered her courage, carefully chose her words, addressed her as "Miss Zhigui," and then smiled. "Would you like to sit down and have some wine?"
Wang Zhu nodded, stepped over the threshold, and sat down at the table. Shi Rou helped pour the wine. Wang Zhu picked up chopsticks. On the table, there was even a plate of stinky mandarin fish. She took a bite, chewed, and nodded. "Good cooking skills."
The old Mud Bottle Alley was a miserable place full of down-and-out families. If someone made any money, they would move early to a wider street elsewhere. According to the town's old saying, this place was a running water ground that couldn't keep people. So every New Year's Eve, only the mouth of the alley, because of a pretty widow, had some passersby. The two adjacent houses roughly in the middle of the alley had no one come to ask for the night meal. At most, people taking a shortcut or going to the widow's house would pass through Mud Bottle Alley, but they wouldn't even glance at them.
One was a jinx full of bad luck, one was a fatherless, illegitimate child who couldn't see the light, and one was a maidservant of unknown origin. They were all without relatives. Who would want to visit them? And the two of similar age didn't visit each other either.
Song Jixin, back then, every New Year's Eve would often sulk and tell Zhigui to simply close the courtyard gate. "Come or don't, I don't care about serving you all."
The neighbor next door wasn't like that. He always kept his gate open. If there was snow in the alley, he would even help gather the snow in the alley to the base of the wall to make it easier for passersby to walk.
Song Jixin, when bored, would often stand at his door and start speaking sarcastically. "In the middle of the night, you open the door waiting for ghosts to come?"
The person of similar age in the neighboring house never talked back.
Later, Chen Ping'an got to know Liu Xianyang, and they would sit around the stove to keep the vigil. Liu Xianyang often deliberately spoke in a loud voice.
Wang Zhu turned her head to look at the child standing on a small stool behind the counter. "Hey, what's your name?"
The Little Mute, who was flipping through a book, looked up expressionlessly. "Don't you know already? My name is 'Hey'."
Wang Zhu didn't bother to argue with this spirited child. Good, a little thorn. She smiled, picked up a piece of the drinking snack with her chopsticks—it tasted good. She hadn't wasted her trip to Baopingzhou. At the gate of her old ancestral home, new blessing characters and spring couplets had been pasted.
Shi Rou quickly smoothed things over. "His real name is Zhou Junchen, nickname Aman. He usually doesn't like to talk, so he earned the nickname Little Mute. He is Pei Qian's disciple."
Wang Zhu raised her white porcelain cup, took a sip of wine, and laughed. "Pei Qian's disciple? Then don't you have to call Chen Ping'an 'Grandmaster'?"
The Little Mute originally wanted to say "None of your business," but seeing Shopkeeper Shi Rou give him a look, the child had to swallow his words and play deaf and dumb.
At the door, a white-haired child stood with arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe, going "tsk tsk tsk."
Wang Zhu turned and asked with a smile, "And you are?"
She couldn't see through his true realm.
The white-haired child smirked coldly. "I'm afraid I'll scare you to death if I say it."
"Try me."
"I'm a miscellaneous disciple of the Luopo Mountain. The only one!"
Wang Zhu smiled as she raised her wine cup. "Let me calm my shock with a drink."
In mountain immortal mansions, disciples were generally divided into inner hall direct disciples, outer gate disciples, and miscellaneous disciples. So-called direct disciples had masters and lineage, and they had seats in the ancestral hall. Outer gate disciples had masters and lineages, but their masters didn't have seats in the ancestral hall to participate in discussions. For example, on Luopo Mountain, the current gatekeeper Xianwei or Cen Yingji, although they were on the golden jade register of the Jise Peak ancestral hall, because they had no seats there, if they took on disciples now, even if it was direct transmission, those disciples would still be outer gate disciples.
As for miscellaneous disciples, they didn't even have a master yet. They usually entered the mountain and barely began the path of cultivation, but their aptitude was poor and they couldn't take a master.
The white-haired child swaggered into the room, stood on tiptoe, and plopped himself down on the bench beside the table. He crossed his arms and stared straight at the young woman of special identity. Phoenix eyes, oval face—beautiful, yes, but a bit cold.
Wang Zhu was unperturbed, drinking and eating a few bites of the drinking snacks.
The white-haired child asked, "I heard that you were neighbors with our Hidden Official Ancestor for many years?"
Wang Zhu said "Mm."
The white-haired child smiled heart-to-heart. "Ever considered that the Barbarian World is not an option, but what about the Azure Underworld? A tree dies if moved, a person lives if moved, right?"
Wang Zhu frowned slightly. "Is it his idea?"
Back then, she had resisted the urge to go to the Barbarian World through the Guixu. Indeed, she had gone through a period of mental anguish.
Facts proved that not giving in to hope was the right choice. Otherwise, she would probably be keeping company with that great demon Yangzhi now, running a wine shop by the Old Lord's alchemy furnace.
Or she might have been caught by a group of sneaky Dragon Raisers who set up a "fishing net" somewhere in the Guixu.
The white-haired child rolled his eyes. "The Hidden Official Ancestor is busy with heavy affairs, constantly busy with things that can easily affect the trends of the world. He wouldn't care about such trivialities."
"I'm just mentioning it casually. The Dragon Slayer Chen Qingliu, although not a Fourteenth Realm pure swordsman, is at least a genuine Fourteenth Realm. After a war is over and the world's affairs are settled, given his way of harmonizing the Dao, he won't be too happy to see you. Chen Qingliu once made a great vow to 'make the world without true dragons.' There's a loophole there: our Haoran 'world' doesn't have them, but the Azure Underworld can have them. That barely avoids conflicting with Chen Qingliu's great path. If you go there, Miss Zhigui, you can casually find a few backers—or more precisely, mutual backers, allies. You all plan well, use a great river as a refuge, and if one day you break into the Fourteenth Realm, why fear a dragon slayer crossing worlds? They say a strong dragon cannot suppress a local snake. And he's just a river-crossing snake; why fear a local dragon?"
The grand cultivators of the Haoran World and the Azure Underworld had to suppress their realms when traveling between the two worlds, according to the rules set by the Confucian Temple's Li Sheng and the White Jade Capital's Great Jiaozhu.
Wang Zhu smiled and shook her head. "Even if it's the same Fourteenth Realm cultivator, as long as the opponent is a dragon slayer, I have no chance of winning. If I don't run, I will surely die."
Even in the Eastern Sea territory, which was like her own Daoist field, and even if she entered the Fourteenth Realm, Wang Zhu believed she still couldn't fight that dragon slayer.
The only benefit was that, as one of the four Water Lords appointed by the Confucian Temple, Chen Qingliu dared not casually challenge the water mansion with his sword.
In some inscrutable way, Wang Zhu was certain of one thing.
Not only true dragons, but also all the hybrid dragon species in the world, plus all water creatures, water spirits, water immortals, and even cultivators who primarily practiced water techniques—when facing Chen Qingliu, who had succeeded in slaying a dragon and carried some great fortune, they would all be naturally suppressed by his great path. If they fought, it would be like ramming their heads into the tip of his sword.
Simply put, when facing these three types, Chen Qingliu could be regarded as a Fourteenth Realm pure swordsman. When he drew his sword, it would be like chopping vegetables.
The white-haired child frowned and remained silent, his expression turning serious.
He seemed to be considering some great problem, but in fact, he was just complaining inwardly: Why is the intelligence so different? Could it be that Xiaomili had misinformed me?
Doesn't everyone say that the Hidden Official Ancestor's neighbor from Mud Bottle Alley has her eyes on top of her head? Why is she so self-aware?
Forget it, forget it. Being a persuader is really not my strong suit.
Xiaobai from the Suichu Palace is the real expert in diplomacy and maneuvering.
On the Night Ferry, someone had instructed her: It would be best to persuade Wang Zhu to go to the Azure Underworld to cultivate at the Stork Tower. If she couldn't be persuaded, then just let it be.
According to that person, even if Wang Zhu went to the Azure Underworld, to the Suichu Palace, her existence would be like a chicken rib—useless except for helping to gather water fortune. She would definitely not be able to help much.
The thought of Wu Shuangjiang made the white-haired child quickly raise his wine cup and down it in one gulp to calm his shock.
A cultivator not fearing his own inner demons, but the heavenly demons outside fearing this cultivator instead—if such an embarrassing story got out, wouldn't people laugh their teeth out?
Wang Zhu suddenly asked, "I heard that in the Azure Underworld, there's a large sect called the Suichu Palace, and by the water, there's a Stork Tower?"
The white-haired child was startled and said guiltily, "I am a native-born cultivator from the Haoran World. I'm not familiar with that Azure Underworld or any Suichu Palace."
Wang Zhu dismissed it with a smile.
The white-haired child was preoccupied. He tentatively asked, "That came out of nowhere. Why are you asking?"
Wang Zhu raised her cup and laughed. "Let's not talk about these troublesome matters. Since we hit it off, let's just drink."
The white-haired child raised his cup and gently clinked it. "Bottoms up."
In the white-haired child's eyes as he looked at Wang Zhu, there was a sense of "we're both miserable" empathy.
Wang Zhu sensed this emotion but, unusually, didn't get angry. Being pitied by someone who claimed to be a miscellaneous disciple of Luopo Mountain—why bother getting angry over that?
After drinking, Wang Zhu left the New Year's Eve shop and climbed the steps of Qilong Lane.
She ascended slowly, a bit nostalgic for the cold season before she left the town. Back then, her hands were full of chilblains. So every time she went out to fetch water from the Iron Lock Well, she only carried half a bucket, wobbling all the way to Mud Bottle Alley. She would pour it into the water vat, and by then, there was only about half a bucket left.
Later, the last time they met, someone had left a cryptic prophecy-like remark.
"Going up the Stork Tower: the sky is high and the earth vast. Going down the Stork Tower: the source is long and the flow distant."
This person had also leaked heavenly secrets for her, teaching her how to deal with that dragon slayer who would rise again in the great path debate.
It seemed that whether she stayed or left, she had a choice.
And finally, that person smiled and said, if she ever encountered a hurdle she truly couldn't get over, she should go find his junior apprentice brother, and tell him it was a request from Senior Brother Qi.
Wang Zhu felt a bit irritable. She took a deep breath, turned her head, and looked down at the two adjacent shops at the bottom of Qilong Lane.
Light poured out from inside the shops. Even though there were no passersby, it still silently illuminated the night path in the alley.
She didn't like the sound of reading from that schoolhouse or someone's reasoning. She didn't like the kindness and goodwill of the person next door in Mud Bottle Alley.
She didn't like that pair, the big and small, with their identical "It's okay," "It's actually fine," "Yesterday of every today was never wasted, and every tomorrow is today's hope" ...
Maybe it was because she didn't know how to like, so she pretended to hate.
Maybe she understood some truths but couldn't follow them. Afraid to hate her own weakness, she chose to hate those who could follow them.
Like a charcoal basket from someone else's house on a winter day—it could only warm her hands for a moment before she had to return it.
Luopo Mountain, mountain gate.
Today, the little incense fire figure had come to clock in. He had a light buzz on with Daoist Xianwei. Stumbling and crawling over the threshold, he reached the gate of the house. The little guy couldn't help but curse. He had no choice but to crawl on the ground again, like squeezing through a dog hole, through the gap in the gate. He patted off the dust. The White-Flowered Snake, a minion of the Chess Piece Mountain Earth God, was still waiting in the distance.
Then he saw a scholar with a gentle appearance, not very old, looking to be just over thirty. He was standing at the foot of the mountain, staring blankly.
The red-robed child sprinted all the way over, stood in the middle of the archway at the mountain gate, and shouted, "Who are you?"
Before the other party could answer, feeling that tilting his head back to talk to someone was too tiring on his neck, the red-robed child hurriedly turned and ran up a few steps. He put his hands on his hips and reminded him seriously, "You can't just break into the mountain gate! Our Luopo Mountain isn't receiving guests at the moment. If you want to visit someone on the mountain, you need to report to Daoist Xianwei first."
The scholar smiled and introduced himself. "My name is Li Xisheng, from Fulu Street in the town. I am Li Baoping's elder brother."
The little incense fire figure was dumbfounded. His heart trembled. What?! This is our Boss Li's elder brother?!
Although this person didn't mix in officialdom, he couldn't resist the fact that he had connections in the court.
Since his background was so formidable, why didn't he come with gongs and drums and firecrackers?
The red-robed child had just run up the steps when he immediately scurried back down, returning to the mountain gate. He made a deep bow, respectfully saying, "This little one is originally from the Mantou Mountain Earth God Temple. Now I work at the state city god temple, earning a living. I am honored to be appreciated by our Luopo Mountain's Dharma Protector Zhou, and I humbly serve as the Right Dharma Protector of Qilong Lane. I hereby pay respects to Lord Li. It is my utmost honor! I failed to welcome you from afar! Failed to welcome you..."
Li Xisheng smiled. "I am an old acquaintance of Mountain Lord Chen. There's no need to disturb Daoist Xianwei from his reading. I am quite familiar with Luopo Mountain. I can go up the mountain on my own."
The red-robed child immediately calculated in his mind. Since he was Boss Li's elder brother and an old friend of Mountain Lord Chen, it probably wouldn't break the rules to let him ascend without registering with Xianwei.
The red-robed child tentatively asked, "Lord Li, would you permit this little one to lead the way?"
Later, on the way up, he would subtly hint to Lord Li to put in a good word for him with Boss Li. Haha, then not to mention the position of Chief Dharma Protector of Qilong Lane, even becoming a small boat helmsman on par with Li Huai wouldn't be just a pipe dream.
Xianwei opened the gate, threw on a robe, and came out. After all, he was a cultivator; he had noticed the commotion at the mountain gate.
The red-robed child quickly introduced Lord Li's identity, lest the gatekeeper Xianwei fail to recognize him and cause a conflict between the Dragon King and the temple.
Li Xisheng smiled and invited, "Daoist friend Xianwei, would you like to accompany me up the mountain?"
Xianwei quickly declined. "I'm on duty reading tonight; I need to go back to my book."
He just thought this unfamiliar scholar had quite the airs. Coming to visit in the middle of the night was one thing, but he actually wanted to drag him along for a climb? What was he thinking? Did he have no understanding of social etiquette?
The Confucian scholar Li Xisheng, with a smile on his face, bowed in greeting to the young Daoist.
The Daoist Xianwei accepted it calmly but, as a matter of politeness, returned a Daoist bow.