Although the little girl in the red padded jacket showed a brief moment of dejection, she was, after all, Li Bao Ping! She quickly regained her fighting spirit, subtly shifting her feet, stealthily moving from the tall woman’s left side, around behind her, and then to her right side. She examined the woman’s clothes, and glanced at her large lotus leaf, thinking it was indeed beautiful. Truly lovely.

After hearing Cui Chan’s cursing and the old man’s scolding, Chen Ping An managed to glean some meaning, but he still couldn’t quite believe it. He swallowed his saliva and asked the tall woman in a low voice, “This old gentleman, is he Mr. Qi’s teacher? Is he that… Wen Sheng? The great sage of Confucianism?”

No wonder this journey had been so full of ups and downs. Meeting A Liang wearing a bamboo hat, the land immortal of the Wind and Snow Temple, and of course, this fellow surnamed Cui.

The tall woman nodded and smiled, “That is so.”

The woman’s true form was an old sword strip hanging beneath a stone arch bridge, a sword spirit born from it. During her nearly ten thousand years of waiting, she had personally witnessed the fall of the last true dragon. In that magnificent and tragic final battle, the three religions and the great Qi Refiners of the various schools of thought joined forces, yet still suffered countless casualties. The corpses of those who died in battle fell like rain upon the earth, their souls coalescing and refusing to disperse, mingled together with the fortune of the dragon after its death, ultimately creating the *Li Zhu* (骊珠) Cave Heaven. But she regarded it as children fighting, mere child’s play.

This sword spirit had watched everything with a cold eye from beginning to end, occasionally having her eyes lit up, secretly picking up a few pretty and good-looking objects, without anyone noticing.

She had thought that her remaining years would either be spent sleeping, or yawning, contemplating those magnificent ancient ruins, drifting within them, even less substantial than wandering ghosts, just drifting along in the long river of time, waiting for the day her spiritual energy dissipated completely.

But when the *Li Zhu* Cave Heaven shattered, she chose Chen Ping An as her second master, not Ning Yao, who was born with the potential to be a great sword immortal, not Ma Ku Xuan, whose origins were extraordinary, and certainly not Xie Shi, Cao Xi, or any of the other local geniuses of the small town.

For all of this, Qi Jing Chun deserves the greatest credit.

First, that night, Qi Jing Chun sat alone on the covered bridge until dawn, right under that auspicious plaque, just to persuade her to open her eyes and take a look at the Mud Bottle Lane boy, even if it was just for a glance.

In fact, the sword spirit’s first impression was… no impression.

She had truly seen far too many wonders.

So she was unmoved. As far as she was concerned, whether the *Li Zhu* Cave Heaven shattered and fell, or whether the Dao of Heaven retaliated and the common people suffered, it had no effect on her.

But she was indeed a little curious. Why would Qi Jing Chun, a scholar who was reputed to have the potential to establish a sect and become an ancestor, choose a child who had never even read a book?

So after that day, she took a few more glances at the boy, but still didn’t feel anything special.

Later, she was so bored that she finally remembered that when Qi Jing Chun left, by virtue of his identity as the sage of the small town, he had intercepted the most recent ten-odd years of the *Li Zhu* Cave Heaven’s river of time – a “handful of water.” It was fished up by Qi Jing Chun with great divine power and placed under the covered bridge.

So one day, having nothing better to do, she had to find something to do, right? So she began to manifest her true form, hovering over the water under the covered bridge. She combed her hair while observing the water.

It was all about the Mud Bottle Lane boy, bit by bit.

There were long-term plots with foreshadowing, there were trivial matters from the city streets, there were benevolent deeds that concealed evil intentions, there were unintentional misfortunes, there were family matters with joys and sorrows, there was sadness and sincerity, there was life and there was death.

She found it quite interesting, much more interesting than watching a group of children fighting and killing, ganging up on a small insect.

For example, a child, not even big, carrying a basket almost as big as he was, saying he was going to go up the mountain to gather herbs, and then before he even went up the mountain, he cried so loud that it shook the heavens and the earth.

Another example was the child standing on a small stool, holding a spatula and mumbling, determined to cook a delicious meal tonight, not too salty, not too bland, just right.

Still another example was the child running away from the candied hawthorn stall, drooling as he ran, able only to try to imagine the taste he had experienced as a child.

Finally, there was the child who, in order to survive, was fishing deep in the stream at midday, completely unaware of the principle that it’s difficult for even immortals to catch fish at midday, getting tanned darker than charcoal.

The sword spirit knew that these were all hardships, but she never felt that they were particularly difficult hardships.

Because the sword spirit had followed her master in conquering all directions, over mountains of corpses and seas of blood, the remains of gods piled up like mountains. The demon cores of those great demons could be strung together into candied hawthorns at once, crunchy to eat. The figures of those extraterrestrial demons covered the sky, but could be destroyed with a single sword.

So when Qi Jing Chun found her again, she was still unwilling to nod. But when even Qi Jing Chun, such a sage who knew how to reason, was at a loss, Qi Jing Chun took back that handful of water of time and gently poured it into the Dragon Beard Stream on the covered bridge. Those scenes flowed slowly, from the young Chen Ping An hurrying to deliver a letter, to the child Chen Ping An in the Immortal Graveyard praying for his mother’s health. Qi Jing Chun decided not to persist in persuading the sword spirit as soon as he poured the water.

He started walking towards one end of the covered bridge, and precisely at the last moment, when he was greatly disappointed, a casual remark finally slightly moved the sword spirit’s heart of stone: “We are all disappointed with this world.”

The sword spirit remained unmoved. That handful of water was about to be completely integrated into the stream. The last scene was the child in Mud Bottle Lane bidding farewell to his father, “Dad, I’m five *xu sui* (虚岁), I’m an adult now!”

The sword spirit looked at that back and said, “Let him take a walk across the covered bridge. If he can persevere, I can consider it.”

Qi Jing Chun turned his head in shock, then laughed heartily, nodding vigorously, “I believe in Chen Ping An, please believe in Qi Jing Chun!”

The man strode down the covered bridge steps, his large sleeves shaking violently, as if they were filled with Qi Jing Chun’s youth.

The sword spirit’s thoughts were interrupted by a question from the boy.

The boy asked cautiously, “Since he is Mr. Qi’s teacher, then can we not fight?”

The sword spirit released the snow-white lotus leaf in her hand. It first floated into the sky, and then instantly became huge, supporting a vast sky covering an area of ten *li* (里).

She shook her head and said, “For Mr. Qi, you must fight this battle.”

Chen Ping An scratched his head and said, “Although I don’t know why, but since it’s related to Mr. Qi, and you say so, I believe you…”

The boy paused for a moment, his eyes firm, staring at the tall woman, and grinned, “Then let’s fight!”
She smiled knowingly, shifting her gaze to the old man still dawdling, who had spent the better part of the day trying to untie the knot on the binding scroll, and was still muttering to himself.

“I used to only know how to bury myself in books and miss out on so much. After leaving the Temple of Merit, I wanted to try a life I never dared imagine, like drinking heartily, arguing boisterously with people, eating spicy food, and swimming naked. I’ve traveled through many places and seen many famous mountains and rivers along the way…”

She teased, “Venerable Sage of Letters, aren’t you done yet? Your neck will be sliced sooner or later, or rather, pierced by a sword. There’s no point in dragging it out like this.”

The old man said resentfully, “I’m just waiting for you two to change your minds.”

She narrowed her eyes and said coldly, “Old geezer, don’t act like you’re being wronged when you’re actually benefiting!”

The old scholar chuckled, “Old geezer?”

Her smile grew even gentler, “I’ve made a note of it.”

The old man adopted a reckless attitude, “Fight, then! Who’s afraid of who? Just because I’m not as good at fighting as I am at arguing doesn’t mean I can’t fight!”

The old scholar finally untied the knot. With a flick of his wrist, the painting unfurled with a “pop,” spreading horizontally towards the ground. The old man held one end of the painting. This Landscape Scroll of Rivers and Mountains was truly long, instantly covering the ground around the well. Chen Ping’an had wanted to move, but the tall woman held his shoulder, telling him not to move.

The audacious Li Bao Ping simply squatted on the ground, carefully examining it, reaching out to poke here and there.

Adding to the scene, behind the old man stood the young Cui Chan, now helping the old scholar hold his luggage.

The old man shouted softly, “收! (Shōu!)” (收 – “Collect!/Withdraw!”)

Still by the old well, Li Bao Ping, who was squatting on the ground studying the mountains and rivers, suddenly woke up. The painting that had been spread on the ground was gone.

Moreover, her little Martial Uncle, that female ghost *Jiejie* (姐姐 – Older Sister) with a bad temper, and the old man who was the *Xiansheng* (先生 – Teacher/Master) of her *Xiansheng* (先生 – Teacher/Master), whom she should call *Shizu* (師祖 – Grandmaster), had all disappeared.

She looked up and saw that it had returned to a scroll, hanging quietly in the air.

The young Cui Chan wasn’t surprised by this. He stood there obediently holding the luggage, with an expression of resentful frustration, as if his heart had died.

She suddenly stood up, raised the seal high, and shouted, “You, surnamed Cui, where’s my little Martial Uncle?! If you don’t tell me, I’ll smash you! When I hit people, I never hold back, and if I accidentally kill you, I won’t be responsible!”

Cui Chan glanced at the little girl, his face impassive, and nodded. “You might as well just smash me to death.”

Is that a provocation?

The white-clothed woman was one thing. But you, you scoundrel, too?

Li Bao Ping was stunned for a moment, then became furious. Without another word, she took off running, bypassing the scroll. Being shorter than the white-clothed youth, she jumped nimbly and slammed the seal heavily on Cui Chan’s forehead.

The young Cui Chan’s face was filled with disbelief, his eyes dazed. He reached out and touched his even more swollen forehead. He suddenly dropped the luggage, squatted on the ground, and cried, “I can’t live like this anymore! Everyone can bully me!”

The little girl felt a little guilty for no reason. She hid the seal behind her back, secretly concealing the weapon, and then began to study the scroll, hoping to find her little Martial Uncle.

Chen Ping’an looked around. It was somewhat similar to when he was first pulled into the “water bottom” by the Sword Spirit. All around was a vast emptiness, which made certain “real” things seem especially “real.” For example, in the distance before him, there was a high wall, so high that no matter how much Chen Ping’an stretched his neck, he couldn’t see its end.

The white-clothed woman, standing beside him, reached out and held the strands of green silk that were tied together with a golden knot, and smiled. “This is both within the Landscape Scroll of Rivers and Mountains and within the Sage of Letters’ consciousness. It’s complicated and troublesome to explain, but all you need to know is that you and I can fight here without any worries. That’s one of the reasons I agreed to the old man’s request. Otherwise, we would have fought on the cliffs by the river.”

She suddenly placed her other hand on Chen Ping’an’s shoulder, “Right now, we’re too close, so you can’t see the true appearance. I’ll take you back a bit, let’s retreat eight hundred *li* (里 – Chinese mile, approx. 0.5 km).”

Chen Ping’an felt like he was traveling at lightning speed, retreating an unknown distance. After finally stopping, the youth disregarded his physical discomfort and the churning in his Qi sea, opened his mouth wide, and looked at “that mountain.” A mountain eight hundred *li* (里 – Chinese mile, approx. 0.5 km) away, and it could still be so huge?

Compared to it, his hometown, Mount Pi Yun, must be like a small mound of earth?

The tall woman’s face was solemn. “There’s another more important reason, which is that the Sage of Letters promised to give you some extra benefits if we fight here.”

Chen Ping’an was already beyond shocked, and his mouth was somewhat dry. “What?”

She gazed into the youth’s eyes. “Here, when you draw your sword, you will possess cultivation similar to that of a tenth-realm Qi Refiner. Of course, this is an illusion, but it is an extremely real illusion. I hope that after you are immersed in it, you can carefully experience it. This will not be helpful to your future cultivation.”

She amused herself and couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, I just want you to know one thing. Don’t just focus on practicing your fists, especially if you always think that practicing your fists is just to survive. That’s too unaspiring. How could your ambitions be so small? Think about it, who are you?”

Chen Ping’an replied blankly, “Chen Ping’an?”

It was bad enough that he didn’t answer the question. But the point is, if you’re not Chen Ping’an, who else could you be?

She bent down and ruffled the youth’s head. “Besides being Chen Ping’an, you’re also my master.”

The youth felt a little embarrassed.

At the peak of the mountain, the old man said indignantly, “Well, you were in such a hurry before, and now you’re not in a hurry anymore?”

The Sword Spirit took a deep breath and pointed to the mountain. “That is the largest of the Five Sacred Mountains in the Central Continent of Divine Earth.”

Chen Ping’an nodded.

She looked at the distant mountain, her eyes blazing. “Then, if the mountain blocks your *Da Dao* (大道 – Great Path), what should you do?”

Chen Ping’an said softly, “Climb over it.”

She curled the corners of her mouth, not annoyed, and asked again, “But what if you have a sword in your hand?”

Chen Ping’an thought of the scene of clearing the way with his firewood knife and asked, “Cleave through the mountain and walk on?”

She laughed loudly, “That’s right!”

The tall woman strode forward and stood in front of Chen Ping’an. She extended her closed fingers and slowly swept them from left to right.

A tiny, tiny light suddenly exploded at the leftmost position.

Like the sun in the sky.

Then it spread continuously to the right.
With every inch that blinding light expanded, the tall woman’s form faded a corresponding degree.

Finally, Chen Ping’an saw a sheatheless longsword hovering before him, as if it had been waiting millennia for someone to grasp its hilt.

The light dissipated.

The youth slowly stepped forward and grasped the sword’s hilt.

In that instant, the sandal-wearing youth felt the world turn upside down, every *qifu* (氣府) and acupuncture point vibrated, the surrounding Qi currents raged, buffeting the youth until he could barely keep his eyes open.

Chen Ping’an closed his eyes, and with a tacit understanding, said, “Let us travel together!”

The longsword trembled wildly.

Like an autumn cicada at the highest branch, crying out to the heavens and earth!

(End of Chapter) 8), welcome to visit Everyone’s Academy of Reading