In Rouge County, inside the Prefect’s Residence, Liu Gaohua, feeling a pang of guilt after swiping a county survey map from his father, the Prefect, and pocketing fifty taels of silver, decided to do some damage control. He left the Great-Bearded Swordsman and his companions cooling their heels in the reception hall, rushing off to his father’s official chambers, where the Prefect handled his administrative duties. He claimed that during his travels, he’d encountered figures straight out of legend, practically deities. The Great-Bearded man, a master swordsman, was a renowned hero of the Jianghu, so skilled that even the county’s top martial artist wouldn’t stand a chance against him. Then there was the Dragon Tiger Mountain Zhang Heavenly Master, carrying a peachwood sword, a scion of a venerable lineage, capable of slaying demons and vanquishing evil with ease. And finally, there was the one surnamed Chen, seemingly a youth, but actually an octogenarian, possessing the countenance of a young man due to the fruits of his Daoist cultivation.

Liu Gaohua’s flamboyant praise left the Prefect both skeptical and somewhat apprehensive. With a flicker of unease, he summoned a well-traveled strategist from the residence to accompany him to the reception hall to greet these “esteemed guests”. However, Prefect Liu was soon disillusioned. Though lacking experience with supernatural entities, his judgment of character was sharp. After exchanging pleasantries and sharing a cup of tea, his enthusiasm waned. He instructed Liu Gaohua to treat the three guests well and, under some pretext, excused himself to return to his office.

On the way back, Prefect Liu shook his head, muttering, “Heroes? Heavenly Masters? It’s all smoke and mirrors. They’ve come to my residence under false pretenses. Their audacity is astounding! If they dare make unreasonable demands, I’ll make sure they rot in a cell, feasting on prison gruel.”

The old strategist chuckled softly, “They’re not merely here for a free meal. While the young Daoist and the sword-carrying boy are harder to read, the swordsman certainly possesses genuine skill. The guards of the residence wouldn’t stand a chance. Lord Liu, before joining your service, I wandered the Jianghu for over twenty years. I’ve encountered several famous Grandmasters, some of the top experts in the southern part of our Painted Garment Kingdom. Judging by his bearing, the Great-Bearded man is not inferior to them. His eyes gleam with sharpness, his presence imposing.”

The Prefect nodded, “So, there may be some truth to it.”

The old strategist whispered, “Lord Liu, consider this: the General stationed in our state is a universally acknowledged Grandmaster of the Four Realms. We observed him from afar at a banquet, and even while drinking and laughing, he exuded an aura of authority and intimidation. Think back – doesn’t this Jianghu character, who calls himself Xu, bear a resemblance?”

Prefect Liu frowned, “Are you suggesting we should cultivate his favor? But I’ve heard that dealing with Jianghu figures requires throwing money around to prove one’s generosity. Offering only a few taels for travel expenses would be seen as an insult, offending these boorish martial artists. I’ve always been an honest official and have no surplus funds. What can I possibly offer? Should I borrow silver from the wealthy merchants of the county?”

At this thought, the countenance of the county’s administrator darkened. “I want no part of such mercenary relationships.”

Scholars, especially those holding official positions in the court, often looked down upon martial artists of the Jianghu.

The old strategist sighed inwardly. Prefect Liu couldn’t even seize the Jianghu connection being handed to him. No wonder his talents were only enough to secure a fourth-rank position, especially since Liu’s former mentors still held prominent positions in the Painted Garment Kingdom’s court. If he were the Prefect, he’d break the bank if needed. Assuming the Great-Bearded swordsman was a small Grandmaster of the Three Realms, countless things could be accomplished behind the scenes once a connection was established. Furthermore, relationships required reciprocal gestures. How could one expect others to always seek him out without offering anything in return? It wasn’t the way of an official. Building connections with the influential families of the county, borrowing a few hundred taels of silver, wasn’t a loss of face for Liu. On the contrary, it would be an honor to them. However, Prefect Liu wouldn’t listen to such things, deeming them beneath his dignity. After a few attempts, the old strategist realized the futility of his efforts.

This realization disheartened the old strategist. The official world was rife with complexities, and so was the Jianghu. Before going into hiding, he had served as a trusted advisor to a Jianghu leader in the southern part of the Painted Garment Kingdom. Though moments of heroic vengeance existed, they were overshadowed by the mundane trivialities of life. No matter how valiant one was, how full of righteous indignation, it would all be worn away in a few years. He remembered the old leader, once so magnanimous, ultimately ruined by family strife and loss.

After Prefect Liu’s lukewarm departure, Liu Gaohua felt awkward. Compounded by the fact that the Prefect’s Residence was so meager that it couldn’t even spare a few guest rooms, the Great-Bearded Swordsman requested Liu Gaohua to take them to the nearest inn. They would wait for news of the Old Daoist of the Divine Edict Sect entering the county, and Liu should inform them immediately. Liu Gaohua agreed readily.

Due to its prime location and long-standing reputation, the inn was thriving. Fortunately, the Prefect’s son’s name still carried some weight, and the innkeeper reluctantly produced three rooms, refraining from hiking up the prices. Liu Gaohua completely took this for granted, oblivious to the innkeeper’s pain. This amused the Great-Bearded Swordsman, and even the Daoist Zhang Shanfeng shook his head.

Human relations were a form of knowledge. The Confucian classics didn’t teach much of it, but the Jianghu was full of it. Chen Ping’an observed it all, storing it in his memory.

He had seen it before, in the marketplaces and alleys of Mud Bottle Lane and Apricot Blossom Lane.

The three of them chatted in the Great-Bearded man’s room, naturally discussing their trip to the old mansion. They talked about Zhang Shanfeng’s Divine Speed Talisman. After hearing the price, Xu Yuanxia felt a bit guilty towards the Daoist, jokingly saying that their next demon-slaying venture had better yield some results. Although Zhang Shanfeng feared poverty, he didn’t complain about his fate. This impressed Xu Yuanxia. He knew how important it was for cultivators to accumulate wealth. Xu Yuanxia, having traveled extensively, understood the rules and regulations of the immortal sects. Cultivators cultivated their minds, their strength, and most importantly, their wealth. If the young Daoist kept running at a loss, it would be difficult for him to ascend to greater heights. Even the best temperament couldn’t withstand such slow, grinding attrition.

Through their conversation, Chen Ping’an gained a specific understanding of the Lower Five Realms of cultivation.

During his journey back from Great Sui with his “disciple”, Cui Chan, Chen Ping’an had grown curious about these matters because Lin Shuyi was already half an immortal. In a rare moment of casual conversation, Chen Ping’an took the initiative to ask about cultivation.

The young Cui Chan rolled his eyes, exclaiming, “The Lower Five Realms? They’re all trash! Why bother with them? It would only tarnish your refined taste, Teacher. Let’s talk about the Upper Five Realms! Back in the day, I was at least a Twelfth Realm…”

Chen Ping’an, still prejudiced against him, didn’t want to listen to the white-robed boy’s boastful talk and went off to practice his sword stances.

Now, Chen Ping’an wondered if he had hurt Cui Chan’s pride. He was “at least” a former Twelfth Realm immortal who had even played chess with the Lord of White Emperor City among the colored clouds…

Chen Ping’an scratched his head, taking a sip of tea, but he was regretting sending that two thousand tael bank draft along with the letter to “Cui Dongshan”. Being so polite to a former immortal student was unnecessary and almost insulting.

The Lower Five Realms of cultivation, known as the Five Realms of Mountain Climbing, consisted of the Copper Skin Realm, the Grass Root Realm, the Willow Sinew Realm, the Bone Qi Realm, and the Dwelling Foundation Realm. The first four realms focused on cultivating the skin, flesh, tendons, and bones. Though called cultivators, they also valued developing a resilient physique. The principle was simple: if the human body was a water bowl, and one cultivated a catty of Qi, if the bowl could only hold eight ounces, the remaining two ounces would be wasted. The final realm involved integration and fusion, the culmination of the human body as a cultivating vessel, essentially signifying that one was ready to ascend the mountain.

Since the Wraith Yang Huang had mentioned the Willow Sinew Realm, calling it the “Realm of Retention,” the Great-Bearded swordsman explained it in detail to the uninitiated Chen Ping’an, relishing in the martial artist’s pure mockery of immortals. This left the young Daoist, stuck at the Third Realm, feeling helpless.

“Once, a brilliant cultivator surnamed Liu directly entered the Upper Five Realms, achieving immortalhood solely through the cultivation of sinews, an unprecedented feat. Hence, the realm was named after him. The term ‘Realm of Retention’ comes from the many cultivators hoping for shortcuts who went astray, obsessing over incomplete manuals left by the Liu cultivator, wasting time and ruining their lives.”

The Great-Bearded swordsman drank his tea with the same boldness as drinking wine, his words filled with sarcasm. “We martial artists are often looked down upon by mountain cultivators, but we’re superior in one way: we take solid steps, without those messy shortcuts. We’re grounded and practical. The Willow Sinew Realm retains countless young cultivators seeking fortune. Furthermore, cultivators of the Lower Five Realms, unless they’re strategists or swordsmen, can’t gain any advantage against us pure martial artists of the Third Realm!”

The young Daoist, the only cultivator present, muttered, “After you martial artists reach the Third Realm, and we cultivators reach the Middle Five Realms, let’s see who wins. We cultivators will definitely have a better chance.”

The Great-Bearded swordsman chuckled, “We only compare within the same realm. A cultivator of the Ninth Realm, the Golden Core Realm, is practically a deity, right? Let them try facing a peak pure martial artist. Does the Great Li Prince Song Changjing scare you tenth-realm cultivators? This Song Changjing is *this* to us pure martial artists of Treasure Bottle Continent!”

The Great-Bearded swordsman raised his thumb.

He refused to put his thumb down, praising, “Such a martial artist is a true hero of the world, standing below the mountain but looking down upon it. I regret that I, Xu Yuanxia, can’t meet him. Otherwise, I’d shamelessly offer him a bowl of wine!”

Chen Ping’an’s expression was odd.

The Prince Song Changjing was Song Jixin’s uncle, who had passed through Mud Bottle Lane. Chen Ping’an had even met him once.

Furthermore, there were pure martial artists of comparable skill to Song Changjing in his hometown, like Li Huai’s father, not to mention Cui Chan’s grandfather…

Chen Ping’an could only silently drink his tea.

Later, the three went to the inn’s dining hall. The tables were buzzing with gossip: a venerable old immortal was about to grace Rouge County with his presence. His supernatural powers were said to be unfathomable. While legends spoke of immortals creating soldiers from beans, he could conjure beauties from paper. These elegant, graceful women, appearing after a sheet of yellow paper touched the ground, were indistinguishable from living beings, capable of singing, dancing, and conversing fluently.

This old immortal’s southward journey had already left the officials and nobles of the Painted Garment Kingdom in awe. Even before his arrival in Rouge County, a city renowned for its beauties, anticipation was high. Men eagerly awaited the paper-transformed beauties, wondering if they possessed a unique charm. The women, especially those with some beauty, were determined to outshine them. How could a piece of thin paper surpass their real selves?

Chen Ping’an wasn’t interested.

The Great-Bearded swordsman and the Daoist Zhang Shanfeng, however, were eager to see for themselves. One vowed that the old immortal was probably a demon in disguise, while the other nodded vigorously, saying they couldn’t allow demons to deceive the people.

Chen Ping’an looked at the two righteous individuals, thinking, *Could you wipe your drool before you speak? You just want to see pretty women, right? Just say it. I won’t laugh at you.*

Alas, they simply hadn’t seen truly beautiful girls. Chen Ping’an was confident in this regard.

Because he believed he had already seen the most beautiful girl in the world.

Her eyebrows were like distant mountains.