Chapter 978: Nothing Happens Today
Chen Ping'an and Xiao Mo ascended gradually, step by step.
Homesickness was essentially about the people, things, and memories from one's hometown. So the old cook's table, always laden with home-style dishes that satisfied every appetite, could truly make a wandering traveler's heart ache with longing, grounding those feelings in reality.
On the stone steps of the mountain path sat Zhu Lian, while a pink-skirted young girl stood. The old cook waved his hand, and Chen Nuan Shu, along with the returning master and the homecoming Mr. Xiao Mo, performed a distant Wanfu salute.
Behind them, at the mountain gate, Xian Wei helped the Red-Robed Boy register his attendance. The Incense Fire Little Man stood with hands on his hips on the Taoist priest's shoulder, watching the mountain lord's receding figure, silently murmuring: The mountain lord's demeanor truly inspires reverence like looking up at a high peak; the mountain lord's way with people is like a spring breeze... The Red-Robed Boy was deeply moved, stomping his foot hard on Xian Wei's shoulder out of envy, chattering: "Xian Wei, Xian Wei, your luck has turned! I never thought there could be such a figure in this world, one who combines both heroic and saintly qualities. Chief Pei indeed treats people with sincerity. Xian Wei, you're about to get rich!"
Chen Ping'an asked via telepathy: "With cultivation like yours and Bai Jing's, can you see the true face beneath the mask Zhu Lian wears?"
Earlier, Chen Ping'an had mistakenly believed that the "masks" Zhu Lian made were merely a martial arts technique from the Lotus Flower Paradise. Later, after carefully studying several disguise masks gifted by Zhu Lian, he realized that Zhu Lian employed a method akin to talisman techniques from the mountains, combined with a constant flow of martial true qi that lingered like clouds around the face, refusing to disperse. This could, to some extent, "conceal heavenly secrets." It was a completely different path from the immortal mirage techniques on the Bright Continent—not necessarily more sophisticated, but far more subtle. For instance, even when Chen Ping'an was in the Jade Purity Realm before, he couldn't see through the "truth" beneath the two layers of masks Zhu Lian wore. So this time, he intended to learn more from Zhu Lian.
This meant that in the former Lotus Flower Paradise, Yu Zhenyi of the Pine Music Kingdom's Lake Mountain Sect might not have been the true pioneer in the matter of pure martial artists dabbling in immortal cultivation. The real first was Zhu Lian, who belonged to an older generation of martial arts than Ding Ying and Yu Zhenyi.
Xiao Mo replied: "If one observes carefully, it should be possible. But Mr. Zhu does not wish others to see his true face, likely for some unspeakable reason. Naturally, I wouldn't presume to pry. As for whether Bai Jing has already taken the liberty of scrutinizing his appearance and aura, thereby offending Mr. Zhu, I am not aware for now."
Chen Ping'an's expression turned odd. "I'd guess that for once, Bai Jing managed to suppress her curiosity and didn't investigate thoroughly."
Xiao Mo asked doubtfully, "Why would you say that, Young Master?"
Chen Ping'an replied with mixed feelings, "Let's not talk about this. It's not interesting."
To put it bluntly, across both heavens, the only person who could make Chen Ping'an involuntarily take a few steps back when facing them as an opponent seemed to be Zhu Lian, after had once removed his mask and revealed his true face.
Consider: on the Sword Qi Great Wall, not even the fourteen royal seats of the Barren Wastes, including the Tuo Yue Mountain Primogenitor and Wen Hai Zhou Mi, had made Chen Ping'an retreat half a step. Instead, he had advanced, raised his sword, and pointed it at those great demons.
By the time Chen Ping'an and Xiao Mo approached, Zhu Lian stood up, smiling. "I was busy preparing dinner, and the young master returned."
The pink-skirted young girl asked softly, "Master, didn't Mi Li come home with you?"
Chen Ping'an chuckled. "She's traveling back with the Law-Keeper Chang Ming and the others on the Wind Kite Ferry. I got off with Senior Song from the Comb Water Kingdom at Old Dragon City. We traveled some mountain and water routes together, then I parted with Senior Song and hurried on ahead, so I arrived first. Just a moment—Xiao Mo, would you mind going to pick up our Right Protector?"
That was the thing Chen Ping'an tirelessly devoted himself to mastering. Previously, it was the six-step stance practice for Mountain-Shaking Fist; now, it was this sword-light teleportation technique that Ning Yao could grasp and master at a glance.
The sword light was dazzling, like scattered evening clouds turning into brocade. In the night sky, the bright moon gathered snow, and the moonlight scattered like snowflakes. Whenever Chen Ping'an's form paused briefly in the sea of clouds, the dozen or so sword lights would coalesce again, sparking a very apt metaphor: the slow bird flies first.
Xiao Mo smiled and nodded. "Alright."
Whenever he talked about Little Mi Li, the already gentle Xiao Mo became even gentler.
Chen Ping'an joked, "Dinner, dinner—we'll eat a bit late. We can wait for Xiao Mo and the Right Protector to return together. Oh, and let's invite Xian Wei and that Qilong Lane Right Protector to join us for dinner."
Xiao Mo, eager to get going, first rushed to the mountain gate to invite Xian Wei and the Red-Robed Boy to Mr. Zhu's house for dinner in about half an hour. Then he transformed into a rainbow flash and disappeared in an instant, crossing thousands of miles in the blink of an eye. If there was a sea of clouds to serve as a ferry point, the sword light was even faster—such wind-riding speed probably far surpassed even the famed Flowing Sunset Boats. Thinking of this, Chen Ping'an couldn't help coveting that type of immortal ferry, said to be the fastest in the world. When would Luopo Mountain ever own one? But it seemed Flowing Sunset Boats weren't suited for long-distance trade; they consumed too many immortal coins and were mostly used by top sects as a status symbol—for instance, during celebrations to transport certain venerable, high-status mountain-top cultivators.
In Zhu Lian's house, with nothing to do, Chen Ping'an sat on a bamboo chair under the eaves, weaving an unfinished bamboo basket. Beside it was a rattan lounge chair, presumably where the old cook would lie when no guests were around—cooling off in summer and watching snow in winter.
Zhu Lian went to the kitchen, tied on an apron, and started busying himself. It was rare for the young master to eat together, so the meal had to be sumptuous. Back when he left his hometown paradise with Little Black Charcoal, Pei Qian had wanted to "ask fists" from the four in the painting scroll. Zhu Lian once said that among cooks, he was the best fighter, and among martial artists, he was the best cook. That had amused Pei Qian so much that she let him off the hook, saying it wouldn't be satisfying to win against someone like that—victory in such circumstances was no victory at all. Later, when she heard that Zhu Lian had earned the reputation of "Zhu Lang, the Banished Immortal" in the martial world, plus the nickname "Noble Son," Pei Qian almost rolled on the floor laughing. How blind must those female martial artists and heroines in the martial world be? How little of the world had they seen? And how generous must their hearts be, that they could face the young, ugly, crooked old cook and shout "Zhu Lang"? Old Wei was more honest and sincere. Discussing this privately, he and Pei Qian had pondered together. Old Wei guessed that back then, Zhu Lian was quite wealthy—young and rich, the son of a minor official, well-read, and fond of flaunting both his literary talent and his money as he traveled the martial world. When a man had money and talent, women would naturally find him handsome. Pei Qian thought that made perfect sense. Old Wei wasn't well-read, but he had plenty of insight.
Chen Nuan Shu sat nearby, her voice soft and sweet, telling her master about recent happenings on and off the mountain.
In truth, the earwitness of Luopo Mountain—the famous Right Protector—could only rank second.
Leisurely time always passed quickly. Unbeknownst to them, about half an hour later, Xiao Mo returned from the Wind Kite Ferry with Zhou Mi Li. They landed at the mountain gate, called for Taoist Xian Wei and the Red-Robed Boy, and all climbed the mountain to eat. Zhou Mi Li hopped up the steps, beaming with joy. On her two faint, slightly yellowish eyebrows, it was as if two little benches sat side by side, filled with little people sunbathing outside—all relatives, neighbors, friends—happy, delighted, joyful, elated, leaping...
"I'm home!"
The Red-Robed Boy, climbing the mountain alongside, said cautiously, "Vice-Chief Zhou, this humble one has already met with the mountain lord and spoken with him. Seeing how diligent I am in registering attendance and how much hard work I've put in, he agreed to one thing: the matter of the newly established Qilong Lane General Protector now has progress. He is willing to recommend me for this position. Vice-Chief, what do you think? If you and Chief Pei believe I need to continue deepening my time in the current role of Qilong Lane Right Protector for a few more years, building up more connections and experience, then I'll take the opportunity at today's meal with the kind-hearted mountain lord to tactfully decline. Even if he misunderstands me as ungrateful, it's better than me taking up the post, failing to live up to it, and not handling matters with enough maturity—ultimately bringing suspicion that the mountain lord misjudged someone. Then my crime would be great indeed."
Officialdom was terribly complicated. Just because the higher-ups issued an order didn't mean the subordinate could sit securely in a position. Having a patron was one thing, but one also needed to be strong oneself!
Xian Wei rolled his eyes upon hearing this.
He felt like he'd been wandering the martial world for years and had somehow become the Qilong Lane Left Protector.
Zhou Mi Li slowed her pace, tugged at the strap of her cloth satchel, furrowed her brow, and thought seriously for a moment, then nodded. "Our good mountain lord very, very rarely recommends anyone for an important position personally. Do you have confidence in yourself?"
The Red-Robed Boy's face lit up. "I do! Of course I do! I'd go through fire and water without hesitation!"
Even if it were just overseeing one Left Protector as the Qilong Lane General Protector, he had confidence! Let alone becoming the chief of a new branch!
For instance, over in the prefectural city, there were several subordinates with solid character and outstanding abilities—old acquaintances from serving in the local mountain and water officialdom. He had known them for years and knew their backgrounds thoroughly. The Red-Robed Boy had long begun cultivating them carefully, waiting only for a new branch to be established. Then, like raising a general's standard on the battlefield with proper justification, he could immediately assemble a complete set of subordinate departments. He could pat his chest and swear by his conscience that the seven or eight underlings under his command were first-rate elite soldiers and capable officials—all well-informed and efficient in handling matters. Just regarding gathering intelligence for the general headquarters, there was nothing to say.
However, this action did have a hint of presumption. If Chief Pei and Vice-Chief Zhou found out prematurely, it could easily cause unnecessary trouble and lead to misunderstandings—like he was discontented with his official hat being too small. Master's suspicion was a great taboo in court. How would the Red-Robed Boy dare to put it on the table so soon? Those who accomplished great things did not plan with the multitude.
Just as the Red-Robed Boy had been secretly included in the mountain and water registers of the Bamboo Tower lineage, recorded in the books, but in fact, even the ancestral spirit Ling Jun, a subordinate of high status in Luopo Mountain, had yet to enter this lineage.
Could such a thing be spoken of? Wouldn't he get beaten half to death by that Ling Jun ancestor, who could walk rivers and transform into a flood dragon in North Julu Continent?
It was said that whether Ling Jun could be registered in the books was still under evaluation. The key was that Vice-Chief Zhou had once recommended him, but the recommendation was turned back with "to be discussed in the future."
At the dinner table, Chen Ping'an naturally sat in the seat of honor, with Zhu Lian and Xiao Mo sitting opposite each other.
Xian Wei took the initiative to invite Little Nuan Shu to sit on the same bench. Zhou Mi Li sat beside the old cook. The Red-Robed Boy was the most special; he couldn't sit on a bench, so he sat at the edge of the table. The little fellow carried a "wine jar" the size of a fingernail, from which he could drink a bit of glutinous rice wine.
On Luopo Mountain, Taoist Xian Wei had a good impression of almost everyone, but his favorite was still Little Nuan Shu—no contest.
The reason he had previously tattled to Chen Ping'an was also because that muddle-headed Miss Xie had provoked Little Nuan Shu.
Otherwise, why would a seasoned schemer like Xian Wei, someone who prided himself on having navigated the martial world for years, do something so likely to earn grudges?
After taking his seat, Chen Ping'an accepted a bowl of rice from Nuan Shu and saw that no one had started eating. He smiled. "Everyone, don't just sit there. Dig in. No need to be shy here."
First, Chen Ping'an picked up a bite of stir-fried bamboo shoots with meat for Nuan Shu, then a piece of steamed Apricot Flower Perch for Little Mi Li.
Zhu Lian laughed. "Bamboo shoots are easy—we have them ourselves. But this Apricot Flower Perch is rare—a top-tier river delicacy that even most immortals can't get. It's only because the young master caught a few fish himself on that Jumping Wave River and never had the heart to eat them, keeping them on the ice plate in his smallest objects specifically for storing ingredients, that we have this treat. These perch constantly eat fallen apricot blossoms as they leap through the waves, so their meat is exquisitely delicate. Steaming is best. Braising would be a waste. Everyone, give it a try. If it's delicious, that's not my cooking—it's the fish. If you think the taste is just so-so, then I'll have to do some serious self-reflection."
Chen Ping'an joked self-deprecatingly, "It's not entirely because I'm saving it all for you—it's not that I can't enjoy it myself. But us fishermen, when we catch something good, of course, we have to make a show of it, walking around the village twice."
When he was young, Liu Xianyang often did this kind of thing, and he'd drag Chen Ping'an along—parading through Apricot Flower Alley and Mud Vase Alley back and forth. Now that he thought about it, it was genuinely embarrassing.
Little Mi Li always ate very quickly, so she pretended to chew slowly, shaking her head and giving Zhu Lian a thumbs up. "Delicious, delicious! Truly exquisite! The old cook's skills are the icing on the cake."
Xian Wei had just picked up a chicken leg, but upon hearing this, he quickly grabbed a big piece of Apricot Flower Perch. He'd heard of this river delicacy before. Taste it fresh? Something he'd never even dared to imagine. What was the best way to show off status in the world? Money, of course.
The Red-Robed Boy, being an Incense Fire Little Man, had little interest in fine food—he couldn't taste it well anyway. But since he often came to mooch meals, Nuan Shu had prepared a special small dipping dish for him. Just a bite or two of food in that dish was equivalent to a full table of food for an ordinary person.
Zhu Lian mentioned a matter in casual conversation. "Young Master, over in the prefectural city now, several Chen family households that moved from Huaihuang County have suddenly started, as if by agreement after the New Year, busy revising their family genealogies. They're all trying, in roundabout ways, to claim some kinship with you. Mm, these tidings were gathered by our Qilong Lane Right Protector."
The Red-Robed Boy muttered grumpily, "Such trivial trifles—are they worth bringing up at the dinner table? It demeans Luopo Mountain and underrates me."
Around the old cook, the little fellow wasn't so formal and fussy. For one, Zhu Lian was easygoing and had few taboos. For another, although Zhu Lian was the major-domo of Luopo Mountain and wielded considerable authority, he had nothing to do with the Red-Robed Boy's official promotions within the Qilong Lane and Bamboo Tower lineages. The magistrate was not the immediate superior; there was no need to suck up to this leg. If one tried to please everyone, they pleased no one—wouldn't want to give Chief Pei the impression of a sycophant.
Xian Wei clicked his tongue. "What, are you perhaps a junior fellow apprentice of Elder Jia?"
Zhu Lian ignored the ungrateful Red-Robed Boy and continued, "So, what do we do about this? Should I inform both the prefectural and commandery offices to have them help intervene? Otherwise, those genealogy scribblers who take money and do business won't be shy with their pens."
In prosperous times, the trade of fabricating genealogies was done in the shadows—mostly by impoverished literati without official titles, who would engage in it only for survival, afraid to make it known. Now, things were different. All over the southern states of Bottle Continent, such practitioners were everywhere, many having switched to this craft.
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "No need to bother. Let them do as they will."
The Red-Robed Boy decided to play the loyal minister offering remonstrance and bravely spoke up. "Mountain Lord, you can't let this slide! If you aren't careful, next thing you know, all kinds of 'uncles' and 'grandfathers' from the prefectural city will pop up like bamboo shoots after rain, overnight. They wouldn't dare come to Luopo Mountain to pull rank as elders, but in the prefectural city, with so many gossips spreading rumors, it won't sound good. Mountain Lord, if you trust me, after this meal, I'll go down the mountain and get word to all the city god temples and land god temples under Gao Guanggun—I mean City God Gao. I have good friends everywhere. They don't interact much with Gao Ping, but I have some connections. After all, over the years, I've personally managed the social dealings with the prefectural city god, attending to everything personally and never slacking off. Besides, on this matter, Luopo Mountain has every right. It's not like we're abusing public office for private gain. If I speak up, I guarantee we can put a stop to this unreasonable trend!"
Chen Ping'an smiled and explained, "No worries, you don't need to make such a big fuss. Among those families, some are indeed distantly related to my ancestors. Even for relatives we've long stopped associating with, they still have a nominal kinship. If you intervene too harshly, you'll end up cutting off all options. Those families might not even dare to hire genealogists. We can't exactly ask them to deliberately omit the names of my ancestral line. As for specifically going to the prefectural city to greet both groups of Chen families individually, that's also unnecessary. Since our own family genealogy hasn't lost any names, whether other families add a branch of the Chen clan or not doesn't really matter."
The Red-Robed Boy was silent for a moment, then stared blankly. "The good mountain lord's breadth of mind is a hundred times that of Gao Ping."
Sitting cross-legged, the little fellow feared the mountain lord might misunderstand, so he hastily raised his arm, making a double-finger vow. "I swear to heaven, this is absolutely not flattery!"
Chief Pei had said—and the narration continued—that her master's moral character was unparalleled. He detested flattery and often taught her, his first disciple, that to get along in the martial world, feasting and having friends everywhere, one must put honesty first: a word is a nail!
Such priceless "martial world secrets" the Red-Robed Boy dared not take lightly; he kept them all in his heart.
Chen Ping'an glanced at Nuan Shu, his eyes asking: Did Pei Qian teach him that?
The pink-skirted young girl pursed her lips in a smile, unwilling to tattle on her master, but also reluctant to lie.
Chen Ping'an had a habit: whenever he was on Luopo Mountain, he never let drinking interfere with eating. At his tavern on the Sword Qi Great Wall, he often had a bowl of wine alongside a bowl of plain noodles.
Xiao Mo said, "Young Master, I heard that Bai Shang from North Julu Continent recently began secluding himself for cultivation."
Chen Ping'an asked with a smile, "Has the identity of his protector spread?"
Xiao Mo shook his head. "Unknown."
Bai Shang, the number one sword immortal of the north, had been stuck at the bottleneck of the Immortal Realm for many years.
Moreover, Bai Shang had ties to Tian Wan of Zhengyang Mountain's Zhuye Peak, who was a fellow disciple of Zou Zi.
If not for Chen Ping'an and Cui Dongshan's interference, Bai Shang's Ascension Realm—though achieved through underhanded means, effectively scheming for nearly a millennium of sword qi fortune across the entire Bottle Continent—would at least have made his sword path purer and his future sword art achievements even higher. In the end, good and evil lie in human hearts, not in the heart of heaven.
Chen Ping'an remarked casually, "Either Bai Shang found an immortal he trusts and who can fight well to protect him, or this is false news—Bai Shang is already in the Ascension Realm, lying in wait, deliberately waiting for someone to spoil his plans."
Because of his sole legitimate disciple, Xu Xuan, Bai Shang had a very strained relationship with He Xiaoliang, the sect leader of the Clear Cool Sect. He had even publicly made a very weighty vow: that He Xiaoliang would never reach the Ascension Realm in her lifetime.
Given He Xiaoliang's temperament and methods, if Bai Shang were indeed in seclusion, she would not stand idly by. And this Sect Leader He was no slouch—she was best at assessing situations. When Chen Ping'an first set foot on the Bone Heap Beach in North Julu Continent, the disturbance at Ghost King Valley, especially the intervention of the ghost creature Gao Cheng at Jingguan City, was a result of He Xiaoliang appearing to do nothing while actually doing everything. Such was her hospitality. Of course, Chen Ping'an didn't show her any courtesy either; soon after, at Suijia City, he reciprocated in kind, tit for tat.
If one wishes for quiet cultivation in the mountains, it's best not to become too entangled in the mortal world.
"Misdirection and illusion are more likely," Zhu Lian said with a smile. "If I were someone else, I'd be afraid that Bai Shang's seclusion is genuine—not false at all. But if Bai Shang is confident in breaking through and emerging quickly, then that's the most troublesome. If one tries to interfere and fails, instead falling into the trap—ruining another's Dao path during seclusion is the gravest taboo in the mountains. Even if that someone has Heavenly Lord Xie Shi as an ally, once Bai Shang draws his sword this time, Xie Shi would be ill-advised to stop him. If things go wrong, even if that someone escapes the sword chase, their sect foundation—which cannot be moved—might be in danger."
Chen Ping'an nodded.
But intuition told Chen Ping'an that He Xiaoliang would definitely take the risk to interfere—this rare opportunity to delay Bai Shang from breaking into the Ascension Realm was a once-in-a-millennium chance. Now it was all about whose chess was better.
Xian Wei asked in confusion, "Who is 'that someone'? Sounds very powerful—to meddle with a great sword immortal's seclusion? Or to be the enemy of someone half a step into Ascension Realm? What kind of deep hatred would drive such relentless mutual scheming?"
Zhu Lian chuckled but said nothing. Sitting cross-legged on the bench as usual, he raised his wine bowl and took a sip.
Chen Ping'an didn't wish to dwell on this. He changed the subject. "How are things over in the Lotus Flower Paradise?"
Zhu Lian set down the white bowl. "Quite miraculous. Not long ago, within the borders of Pine Music Kingdom, there was a local shrine not established by imperial decree—what you might call a popular unofficial temple built by the locals themselves. The statue there, after long exposure to incense offerings, finally achieved a golden body and manifested itself. Though this water god's golden body wasn't of high rank—according to the Gold and Jade Register recently promulgated by Great Li's court, it had only just entered the 'pure stream' ranks, transitioning from a minor functionary to an official—and can't compare to the ranks of mountain lords or water gods, it was the first time in the paradise that an unofficial shrine's deity, receiving incense from the people, manifested a golden body."
Xiao Mo nodded. "Once there is a first, there will be a second and a third. It's indeed a great good thing."
Xian Wei was stunned. "What?! Luopo Mountain has its own private paradise?!"
What a Chen Ping'an, such a mountain lord! If you wanted to pretend to be poor and dress finely but travel at night like a high official riding a skinny horse, at least set some limits!
And on top of all that, you keep it from me? Treating me like an outsider because I'm a fake Taoist without ordination and certificates?
Chen Nuan Shu smiled softly and corrected him. "Taoist Xian Wei, 'our' paradise."
Xian Wei chuckled awkwardly. "Right, right, right—our paradise. Our Luopo Mountain."
The Red-Robed Boy, without needing a reminder, raised his double fingers again. "I swear that everything I heard at this table today I will keep in my belly. Once I leave the mountain gate, my lips are sealed!"
Xian Wei thought it over. With his own identity as Luopo Mountain's gatekeeper and his shallow level of cultivation—just enough to play tricks on Bottle Continent—if he went to that paradise, he wouldn't have to pretend to be a Taoist or an immortal anymore. After all, that's what he originally was.
Chen Ping'an asked, "How are things at the back mountain? Cao Yin's cultivation and Cao Yang's fist practice—are they going smoothly?"
Zhu Lian nodded. "Cao Yin has good aptitude. Though he hasn't broken through, he's already touched the bottleneck of the Sea-Viewing Realm. Cao Yang has a heavy bone structure and is willing to endure hardship. She's learning the fist quickly. She's about to reach the fifth realm of martial arts. Both are promising. If possible, I think Cao Yin could also formally learn martial arts."
"When Cao Yin reaches the Core Formation or Golden Body stage in the future and needs to make a choice, it will still be worth it. If he goes even further, like the young master, and can make the spiritual qi in the body and the true qi of a pure martial artist seem to go separate ways while actually harmonizing, forming a pattern where lake water doesn't interfere with river water, that would be a great fortune for Cao Yin."
For Qi refiners to also practice martial arts and succeed without going astray, there are two very difficult thresholds to cross. Apart from outstanding natural talent, they need either a unique family tradition or a master who provides clear guidance, along with a complete set of mental techniques and Daoist secrets from the sect. Both are indispensable. In that case, not to mention Bottle Continent, even across the entire Bright Continent, such sects are few—rare enough to count on one's fingers.
Even Luopo Mountain couldn't claim to have already found a stable path.
How could anyone else follow the young master's lofty path?
Take Zhong Qiu, for instance. He is now a pure martial artist at the bottleneck of the Far Journey Realm, simultaneously a Core Formation Earth Immortal in hiding, and, strictly speaking, a Confucian Qi refiner. This Teacher Zhong is clearly pursuing the way of the sages.
But Zhong Qiu's path of cultivation is still difficult for others to imitate because it requires a very particular state of mind. In the former Lotus Flower Paradise, National Teacher Zhong Qiu was already hailed as the "Martial Ancestor, Literary Sage." Chen Ping'an intentionally placed Cao Qinglang by Zhong Qiu's side, which itself was a teacher's expectation for a favored student—hoping that Cao Qinglang would surpass him and, on a path where his teacher could no longer take a step forward, the student could go further.
Chen Ping'an said slowly, "At Xian Du Mountain's Exiled Immortal Peak, I had a fist challenge with Ye Yunyun. She didn't deliberately hold back. So I understand a little of the profound fist techniques of Pu Mountain's Cloud Herb Hall, derived from those Immortal Paintings. Moreover, Ye Yunyun's Cloud Herb Hall has always been open-minded. Apart from the unteachable secret fist techniques of the ancestral hall, she is willing to generously teach fists to martial artists across the continent. As for some insights I've gained, I plan to compile them into a book soon. I might send a copy to Ye Yunyun later. Besides, our Green Duckweed Sword Sect is now allied with Pu Mountain. I trust that when Pu Mountain's registered disciples travel on Bottle Continent, they will surely visit Luopo Mountain. With this bridge, the fist principles are naturally close, and we can further sharpen each other's martial arts. My only worry now is that Cao Yin started martial arts relatively late. The true meaning of the fist techniques I've worked out is still not perfect. If Cao Yin doesn't grasp the proper method—like entering the ancestral hall through the side door—he might end up drawing a dog but calling it a tiger, or painting a tiger but making it a cat. If I'm not careful, I'll ruin a good seedling."
Zhu Lian smiled. "Young master, just focus on teaching the fists. I'll take care of the rest."
Chen Ping'an raised his wine bowl. "Bottoms up."
In fact, Cen Yuanji had long been walking this path, but Zhu Lian's method of teaching fists and transmitting the Dao was so subtle that she had remained unaware.
That was the root cause of why Cen Yuanji, despite her remarkable talent and diligent fist practice, was slow to break through.
In the Lotus Flower Paradise, Zhu Lian's own fist techniques were famous across the heavens for rapid breakthroughs.
Chen Ping'an saw through this but didn't point it out. After all, it was a good thing for Cen Yuanji: the stronger a pure martial artist's foundation, the higher their achievements.
First Cen Yuanji, then Cao Yin—Zhu Lian intended to use more successful cases to help Luopo Mountain pave a brand-new climbing path. Fewer barriers, lower thresholds, wider roads.
No one should really think he was just an old cook in an apron. Cooking three meals a day didn't take that much time—he had to find something to do.
Xian Wei asked curiously, "Mountain Lord Chen, the Ye Yunyun you mentioned—is she the 'Yellow Dress Yun' from Tongye Continent?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "That's her. Have you heard of her too, Taoist Xian Wei?"
Xian Wei grinned. "I once drifted around an immortal ferry and caught wind of her. They say this female martial arts grandmaster likes to wear yellow clothes when traveling the mortal world. Her fist techniques are superb, and she's even better looking. Mountain Lord Chen, did you win or lose that spar?"
In the years when he was wandering uncertainly, he found that among Bottle Continent's cultivators, only a very few from the ill-reputed Tongye Continent had any praise: the old sect leader of the Jade Flute Sect, Jiang Shangzhen; the new sect leader and great sword immortal, Wei Ying; the old immortal Lu Yong of the Clear Scene Mountain; the ambitious and capable Great Spring Empress Yao Jinzhi; and then that legendary beauty, Yellow Dress Yun.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "It was a draw."
The Red-Robed Boy suddenly understood. "So he won."
Xian Wei was puzzled. "How do you figure that?"
The Red-Robed Boy looked at him as if he were an idiot. "The mountain lord always belittles himself and elevates others. Do you even need to ask? What's wrong with you, Taoist Xian Wei? Otherwise, how could he have taught a disciple like Chief Pei, who is so well-regarded in the martial world?"
Chen Ping'an decided he should find an opportunity to remind his first disciple a few things. This kind of flattery of your own master—don't you blush? I'm embarrassed for you.
Little Mi Li hadn't done much chatting, but she was definitely the happiest.
When the good mountain lord wasn't at home, they would gather at the old cook's place to eat together—lively enough, not lonely—but with the good mountain lord absent, something seemed to be missing. Indescribable, but it was best when the good mountain lord was home.
Xiao Mo suddenly spoke. "As for Xie Gou, I'll handle her."
Zhu Lian's smile turned strange.
Xian Wei, who was used to eating with his bowl in his hand, looked up. Handle? Sounded odd. If it weren't Mr. Xiao Mo speaking, if someone else said that, Xian Wei would have thought it was a piece of murderous underworld slang.
Chen Ping'an teased, "Forget about it. You can't beat her, and you certainly can't drive her away. If you really anger her, Miss Xie will disown you and Luopo Mountain. She'll buy a house and settle down in the town out of her own pocket. Or she might get even more ruthless and buy one of the three nearby peaks—Jump Fish Mountain, Fuyao Hill, or Tiantai Peak—to become your neighbor. Then she can sit on her rooftop every day and stare wide-eyed at the scenery on Luopo Mountain. Would you think that's proper?"
Xiao Mo was momentarily speechless. With Bai Jing's style, it wasn't a possibility—it was a certainty.
Little Mi Li immediately caught the key point. "So this newly arrived Miss Xie—she's that rich?"
Nowadays, buying a mountain peak in the western mountains wasn't cheap!
Back when Pei Qian was still Little Black Charcoal, she was always thinking about saving money. One day, she would buy that Tiantai Peak without blinking, no matter what price they asked.
She would save up enough immortal coins, secretly buy Tiantai Peak, and then one day tell her master, giving him an even bigger surprise.
As for which day, and why "even bigger," Pei Qian never told Zhou Mi Li.
Now Zhou Mi Li thought she was naive back then. Every few days, she would ask Pei Qian how many coins were still missing. Pei Qian got annoyed and for a long time didn't want to play with her. Zhou Mi Li was deeply aggrieved. Those piggy banks entrusted to Sister Nuan Shu's care—if Pei Qian ignored her one day, she wouldn't add a single soldier to her treasure mountain that day. Later, somehow, Pei Qian took the initiative to patrol the mountain with her once, and Zhou Mi Li immediately led a whole "small money mountain" camp and garrison charging into the capital, successfully joining forces!
Chen Ping'an laughed. "She's indeed a very big landed rich man."
Xiao Mo was full of helplessness. Bai Jing was indeed wealthy. Among their generation of Ascension Realm cultivators with similar Dao ages, when it came to family background and money-making skills, Bai Jing might be second only to a certain someone who had once used an abacus with the "scholar" accountant to earn money together.
Chen Ping'an turned his head. "Xiao Mo, why didn't she come up the mountain with you today?"
Xiao Mo grimaced. "She's busy posting notices all over the town. She used to frequent Fortune Street and Peach Leaf Lane, thinking those areas had more rich people. The notices kept getting torn down, so she would paste them up again overnight. A couple of days ago, she was caught red-handed in Peach Leaf Lane and almost got beaten up."
The other party only let her off when they heard she was a clerk at the New Year's Brocade Shop on Qilong Lane.
Zhu Lian chuckled. "If they had actually started a fight, at most it would have been some shoving. Miss Xie certainly wouldn't have fought back. She might even have accidentally sprained her ankle or walked into a wall, then returned to Qilong Lane with a black eye and swollen face, just so Xiao Mo can see how much grievance she suffered outside."
Xiao Mo smiled helplessly. This sort of thing, the current Xie Gou, was indeed capable of.
It wasn't entirely that she was just playing around. When all was said and done, Bai Jing, like him, had used some ancient secret technique to separate out a "smaller Bai Jing," with a relatively simpler personality.
After hearing this, Xian Wei's impression of that marten-capped girl improved a lot. For someone as willing to earn money as Miss Xie, you had to give a thumbs up and call her a fellow Daoist.
In the eyes of Taoist Xian Wei, who had suffered poverty for many years, the most helpless thing in the world was just two words: no money!
Chen Ping'an glanced at his gatekeeper, his emotions mixed.
You have no money now, but the very first coin in the world—if the records of the Literary Academy are correct—you cast with your own hands.
That coin, originally used as a toll to enter Lizhu Cave Heaven, was exchanged with Great Li's court for three types of gold essence copper coins: Welcome Spring, Support, and Subdue. They were originally cast by a Moist master for the Great Li Song clan as the master pattern coins. Even setting aside the material, the excellent craftsmanship of the coins themselves had long been praised by the numismatic experts of Bottle Continent. But above these mother pattern coins, there was an even more "unique" ancestor coin. The ancestor coin of the Snow Flower Coin must be in the Liu family of the Bai'ai Continent. As for this "Qi refiner," what appearance they chose to show the world had always been a mystery.
In the days at the prison of Sword Qi Great Wall, the executioner Hao Su had two maids with him. They had a master-servant status, but they were more like fellow practitioners in their own cultivation.
Chen Ping'an first met them by the creek: a woman beating clothes and a girl washing silk. The former was now Luopo Mountain's Law-Keeper Chang Ming, the incarnation of the gold essence copper coin's ancestor coin; the latter was now a maid beside Hao Su's senior disciple, Du Shanyin, going by the name Ji Qing, the incarnation of the Grain Rain Coin's ancestor coin.
But Chang Ming and Ji Qing, in terms of Dao age, were still far from the world's first coin, the "Ancestor Spring."
Earlier, when they raised the rank of the Lotus Flower Paradise and showered immortal coins like rain, Law-Keeper Chang Ming, with her sharp eyes and close affinity with the Dao, was the first to spot a rare existence not revealed in the mountain-and-river painting scrolls. It was a woman with a misty form, sneaking through books in a scholarly family within the northern kingdom of the paradise. This woman, later temporarily named "Shu Xiang" by Ji Se Peak, had coalesced from the literary aura of the entire world. She was a manifestation of the Dao in a certain sense. Across the number of heavens and all seventy-two paradises, according to records, only seventeen similar beings had ever appeared.
Zhu Lian said, "Recently, the mountain has received many invitations, all eagerly inviting you, young master, to be a guest elsewhere. The reasons and excuses are diverse enough to be compiled into a book. There's every kind of strange excuse, many from immortal sects with whom we have no connection at all, and some from mortal kings in the south. I ignored those. As for those with whom Luopo Mountain has some familiarity, as long as the matter wasn't urgent or major, I took the liberty of declining on your behalf. For the ones I left aside, I replied that you were traveling and needed to decide yourself. Those invitations have all been collected together. Later, I'll have Nuan Shu move them to the Bamboo Tower—there's a small basket full. I've put the important ones at the top. When you have time, feel free to browse."
If a cultivator spent too much energy on such matters, they would waste time and wear out their spirit, easily draining their ambition.
Chen Ping'an nodded, took his wine bowl, and took a sip. His expression was gentle as he said softly, "Maybe to Luopo Mountain and to me personally, these are just a pile of headache-inducing secret letters and invitations. But to most of the senders, regardless of their various reasons, it's probably a major event they rarely encounter. Otherwise, they wouldn't lightly send letters to the sword room on Ji Se Peak. So we can politely decline, but never think that the wording on the invitations is laughable."
Zhu Lian immediately straightened his expression and said solemnly, "Such heartfelt words can only come from you, young master!"
Chen Ping'an had intended to reward him with a word like "scram," but then he saw Nuan Shu nodding vigorously and Little Mi Li starting her trademark silent applause.
Xian Wei had a face full of sincere agreement, and the Red-Robed Boy felt he had just heard a sage's teaching. He only regretted not having paper and pen at hand.
There were only a few people at the table.
So Chen Ping'an had to swallow that word.
Xian Wei asked curiously, "Why didn't Bai Xuan return to Luopo Mountain with you? What's he doing staying at the subordinate sect at Xian Du Mountain?"
Chen Lingjun and Bai Xuan were both old acquaintances of Xian Wei, but they were a bit different. Chen Lingjun liked to ask about one's health and chat over melon seeds; Bai Xuan was more taciturn. It was said that every morning he went down the mountain and returned to the Sword Worship Platform in the evening, carrying a purple clay pot filled with wolfberry tea. Every time he reached the mountain gate, he would ask Taoist Xian Wei about the ways of the martial world. Clearly, he was laying the groundwork for future travels. "This young master practices sword so hard for what? Don't I want to ask people for sword challenges and leave them no counter, so the bystanders cheer for me?"
Chen Ping'an chuckled. "That gentleman is staying there to refine his sword. Now there's someone urging him to break through realms. He won't return to the Sword Worship Platform for a while. My guess is he won't be willing to move until he's at least at the Dragon Gate Realm. Otherwise, he'd have no face to come back."
After dinner, Nuan Shu and Little Mi Li helped clear the dishes.
Chen Ping'an left Zhu Lian's house and came to the outside of the Bamboo Tower, sitting alone at the stone table on the cliff's edge.
To the north was the Gray Mount Mountain. Chen Ping'an turned his head and looked: the Tiantai Peak to his left was a nearby neighbor, closer to Luopo Mountain than Jump Fish Mountain and Fuyao Hill. But the vast Gray Mount Mountain had already been incorporated into Luopo Mountain's territory as a vassal peak, while this Tiantai Peak, whose name meant so much, had always been owned by a middle-tier immortal sect whose foundation was similar to that of the Yellow Millet Sect. And unlike Yi Dai Peak, they never interacted with Luopo Mountain. There weren't many cultivators on that peak—just over a dozen—and they liked to live in seclusion, rarely emerging. They had only dwelled quietly in the mountain for many years, cultivating the Dao. It was said that the cultivator in charge of the peak wasn't even a Core Formation Earth Immortal.
If cultivators from both peaks stood on their crests and looked at each other, it was still Luopo Mountain that was higher.
So Tiantai Peak didn't obstruct the wide view from Luopo Mountain's summit. Chen Ping'an transformed into over a dozen sword lights and landed on the peak, standing on the railing with his hands in his sleeves, looking east toward the town. In the twilight, lights flickered faintly; Chen Ping'an took in all the streets and alleys.
Back in the old days in the town, the young able-bodied men and some old bachelors were very willing to walk through Mud Vase Alley, even if it meant taking a detour. As for those about the same age as Chen Ping'an and Song Jixin, they generally didn't want to walk Mud Vase Alley. Occasionally, when they passed through, whether taught by their elders or on their own initiative, they would deliberately yell things like "family reunion." Their curses targeted two: an orphan who had lost his parents and a rumored illegitimate son of the overseer Song. No wonder they had ended up in the same neighborhood.
Every New Year's Eve, the first day of the new year, and the Qingming Festival, each family with the same surname would go to their ancestors' graves—both their direct ancestors and distant common ancestors—to offer incense and paper money. The Chen clan of the town wasn't a major one; it wasn't among the four surnames and ten clans of Fortune Street and Peach Leaf Lane. But it still had several branches. When Chen Ping'an was young, he followed his father to the graves to pay respects, following a set route. After his parents died, he also went alone, carrying a plate with red paper and incense, following that route from memory. But one time, he was seen by some Chen men who, according to village customs, he would have addressed as "granny," "great-uncle," or "big uncle." Their expressions were rather unpleasant. But bound by the ancestral rule that forbade preventing descendants from honoring their ancestors, they didn't say anything harsh. However, on the first day of a certain year, Chen Ping'an found that the red paper he had placed on the grave the previous New Year's Eve had disappeared. After searching, he found it had been carelessly tossed into the field below the grave.
The child couldn't even afford to be sad. He jumped off the ridge, carefully picked up the discarded red paper, and stood there, at a loss. He didn't know if it was taboo to put the paper back under the stone on the grave, and he feared that taking it home would break the rules.
The helpless child stood alone in the field for a long time, not angry, just feeling empty inside.
After that year, Chen Ping'an only went to his parents' graves.
Between the field and the world at large.
Chen Ping'an sat on the railing, took out the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp of wine.
At Zhu Lian's house, Xiao Mo, Xian Wei, and the Red-Robed Boy had stayed behind.
With nothing else to do, Zhu Lian brought out the go board and started playing with Xiao Mo. Xiao Mo learned the game very quickly, making breakthroughs like splitting bamboo, improving by leaps and bounds each day.
The Red-Robed Boy was about to sit on a captured stone from the board.
Xian Wei smiled, picked up a stone from the go bowl, and placed it on the table beside them. The Red-Robed Boy asked, "What's that for?" Xian Wei replied, "Too many of your damn mouths." The Red-Robed Boy—"What do you think you are, daring to be so insolent with the newly appointed Qilong Lane General Protector? Mutiny?"—started bickering with Taoist Xian Wei, full of noise.
Xian Wei thought again of that Yellow Dress Yun. Lowering his voice, he asked, "Old cook, what do you think of that Mountain Lord Ye... how beautiful is she? If you and I saw her, would we be smitten?"
Zhu Lian smiled. "Probably not."
Xian Wei sighed. "Everything's fine here, except there are too few strange women."
Zhu Lian laughed. "Oh my, that's quite a rhyme."
Xian Wei tugged at his collar. "If I, your humble Daoist, weren't so picky, why would I still be single to this day?"
The Red-Robed Boy laughed so hard his stomach hurt. "You? Xian Wei, Xian Wei, when you get old, you won't even have the old cook's kind face."
Zhu Lian smiled. "Don't drag me into this."
The Red-Robed Boy pretended to burp. "Moving on, moving on."
Spring night moonlight, light clouds and thin mist—they were always the haunts of youthful pleasure. Unfortunately, they were no longer young, with no prospects in sight. Taoist Xian Wei was troubled: he couldn't stay single forever. Looking at this old cook was not a good example.
"A talent in the poetry field, truly a white-robed minister. A wanderer in the flower thicket, always a dashing lad."
Zhu Lian, with one hand picking up a go stone and the other scratching his head, said with a smile, "Time passes most roguishly, turning youth white, and the rosy face leaves the mirror without notice, secretly exchanging cherries red for plantain green."
Xian Wei chewed on that meaning, then asked tentatively, "Old cook, back when you were young, did you have any... romantic stories?"
Zhu Lian replied matter-of-factly, "A righteous gentleman who has read the books of sages doesn't go around fighting with women."
Xian Wei cackled. "Like me, like me."
The Red-Robed Boy laughed until his stomach ached. "Like Gao Ping, both of you."
In unison, all three turned to look at Xiao Mo. Xiao Mo felt rather helpless. "Like him too, like him too."
When Chen Ping'an returned to the Bamboo Tower, he found Nuan Shu waiting at the door. He smiled. "I have a key."
Chen Nuan Shu pretended to have just realized. Chen Ping'an laughed. "It's fine, it's fine—come in and sit for a bit."
The first floor of the Bamboo Tower was spotless.
On the desk lay a pot of lush, verdant calamus. It wasn't an immortal item—Nuan Shu had transplanted it from a mountain stream years ago and took good care of it.
Earlier, the Spirit Lord of Mount Jiuyi, to congratulate his teacher on restoring his position in the Literary Academy, had also given him a pot of calamus—one of literary fortune. That one was no ordinary thing, over a thousand years old, capable of absorbing the essence of heaven and earth. Every so often, it would condense a water droplet the size of a fingernail. Chen Ping'an had given that pot of literary fortune calamus to the pink-skirted young girl. She was now responsible for carefully tending it. Half of the pure literary fortune water droplets stayed in the Lotus Flower Paradise, while the other half Chen Ping'an let Nuan Shu release into the mountain streams of Luopo Mountain, flowing with the water down the Dragon Beard River, the Iron Talisman River... Because it was a steady trickle of literary fortune, with no immediate effect, the price of calamus from Mount Jiuyi hadn't become astronomical among the mountains. Of course, those pots with three thousand years of "Dao age" were a different matter.
Chen Ping'an took out stacks of books from his smallest objects, already categorized. Together with Nuan Shu, he placed them in different positions on the bookshelves. In fact, in this regard, Chen Ping'an was exactly like that former imperial prince of the Great Spring capital's Yellow Flower Temple—both had obsessive-compulsive tendencies, though Chen Ping'an's wasn't as severe.
Finally, Chen Ping'an gave Nuan Shu a stack of books. The pink-skirted young girl took them with both hands and bowed in thanks.
Then she prepared to take her leave, not wanting to disturb her master's rest.
Chen Ping'an pulled over a chair and smiled. "Keep me company while I read for a while."
So she set the books down on the table for now, picked up one, and the two of them—one big, one small—read together.
Chen Ping'an suddenly laughed. "It's also good to have not too many people on the mountain. Nuan Shu, you don't have to work too hard."
Thinking this way, the mountain lord's mood smoothed over regarding his own student poaching people.
Otherwise, Sect Leader Cui might think some things could be settled like that—ha, too naive.
Chen Nuan Shu hesitated for a moment, then said softly, "Master, Sect Leader Cui sent me a letter. In it, he said you were about to arrive home and told me to inform Master Zhu to be careful with the stir-fry. He even listed a menu of your favorite dishes. At the end of the letter, he told me not to tell you about it."
Chen Ping'an smiled slightly. "I'll settle accounts with him later."
Nuan Shu seemed to want to say more but held back. Chen Ping'an said, "So what if he guessed it? If he dares to say anything or think anything, I'll settle extra accounts with him. Forget it, I won't make things difficult for you. I'll just pretend I know nothing."
Nuan Shu gave a shy smile.
Chen Ping'an, for no apparent reason, joked self-deprecatingly, "Actually, I don't know how to be a good teacher. It's worrying, very worrying."
Nuan Shu looked up, thought for a moment, and then smiled brilliantly. "Master, since Sect Leader Cui knows how to be a good student, can you still worry, but not worry so much?"
Chen Ping'an was stunned. "You're right!"
The only sound in the room was the rustle of pages turning. Chen Ping'an said casually, "Nuan Shu, do you ever feel anxious about your realm?"
Nuan Shu looked up, blinking.
Chen Ping'an chuckled. "I must state clearly that I'm not urging you to cultivate. I'm just worried that if you have thoughts, you might not feel comfortable speaking up. As your mountain lord, I'm often away from home—practically never here. That's really not proper. So I just wanted to ask your thoughts. If you don't have such thoughts, then set it aside. If you do, don't be shy. I'll come up with a strategy today and start preparing tomorrow. Guaranteed to be steady."
Nuan Shu immediately shook her head and waved her hands. "Master, no need, no need."
Chen Ping'an laughed and rubbed her head. "Then no rush."
Nuan Shu beamed and continued reading.
Pei Qian, Cao Qinglang, Teacher Zhang, Cen Yuanji... everyone on Luopo Mountain.
Her master saw it all, kept it in his heart.
And of course, there was that lazy good-for-nothing who loved to put on airs.
The small room on the ground floor of Bamboo Tower was small, but it contained many treasures.
Besides the "Current Postscript" calligraphy on the wall, a gift from Wu Shuangjiang, there was an inkstone inscribed with "Ming Li Du Xing" (Understand Reason and Practice Sincerity) given by a little goblin at Naihe Pass Market, and a Tianhuang stone seal with landscape cameo carving, a gift from Lin Qingqing, a guest elder of the Yu Province Qiu clan. These were now placed on Chen Ping'an's desk.
During the Literary Academy meetings, at the luggage shop owned by Zhang Zhi on the Parrot Island, Chen Ping'an didn't have cash on him, so he ran up some debts with Liu Chicheng and Tuoyan Furen, buying some items he fancied. As for various mountain treasures not suitable for the study, there were also plenty. For example, in North Julu Continent, at the Nourish Cloud Peak of the Lock Cloud Sect, he had "not been able to refuse" a piece of Sanlang Temple's spiritual armor and a soldier's Sun Crow armor.
Then there was the white jade lingzhi presented by Yun Miao, an immortal of the Nine True Immortal Hall. The two had fought and then become friends, meeting and immediately exchanging gifts—a semi-immortal soldier grade, no less.
Additionally, at the Water Dragon Sect, the northern branch's sect leader Sun Jie gave him a pair of Ox-Roar Fish; from the southern branch, Shao Jingzhi gave him a "little ink dragon" midge, a mountain nickname. Chen Ping'an planned to give them to Hong Xia and Yun Zi before they traveled to Tongye Continent. And there was the jade tablet "Jun Qing Yu Xiang" from Li Yuan—alas, he had already given it to Fan Junmao. Otherwise, it would have made a fine congratulatory gift for Chen Lingjun's appointment as Luopo Mountain's guardian and Left Protector, or as a return gift for the old matron Qiu Du, who served as the Green Duckweed Sword Sect's guest elder.
Not knowing how much time had passed, Chen Nuan Shu, who had read about half a book, hurriedly stood up, holding the book, and took her leave. Chen Ping'an said he was going for a walk and escorted her back to her house. There, they found Little Mi Li standing straight as a door god. Chen Nuan Shu quickly apologized to her. Little Mi Li grinned, and the two little girls waved goodbye to Chen Ping'an together, off to chat.
Chen Ping'an returned to the Bamboo Tower, sat back down at the cliffside stone table, pretended not to notice, then after a moment turned his head with a look of surprise.
On the table sat a little lotus figure that had just jumped out of the soil, leaped onto the stone table, and sat at the edge, one hand on the ground, lightly swinging its legs.
Chen Ping'an smiled, lifted the little creature onto his shoulder, and together they gazed into the distance. As per the old routine, he told the little one about the odd people and interesting events from his travels.
He spoke carefully, and the other listened patiently. Finally, Chen Ping'an murmured, "Home again. Nothing happens today."