Upon the high platform in the heart of the lake, the old immortal unveiled another extraordinary scheme. With four yellow paper talismans, he conjured four beauties, each unique in form and grace, their allure and bearing no less captivating than the 彩衣 (Caiyi) woman from before.

Then, he directed the servants, who were already prepared, to bring forth an ancient zither, a zither table, a Go board and its pieces, and a large writing desk laden with exquisite writing tools.

For common folk, life revolved around firewood, rice, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar, and tea. But for the refined scholar, it was music, chess, calligraphy, and painting – hands never sullied by mundane chores, sleeves always carrying a breeze of elegance.

The old immortal gestured towards the woman serenely seated before the Go board, cupping his hands in a salute, and proclaimed loudly, “Are there any Go masters within 胭脂 (Yanzhi) County? Whoever can best her may take this priceless Go board and both sets of pieces as their prize.”

None of the objects within this residence were cheap trinkets.

To dare display such items before the wealthy of an entire county, they must be extraordinary treasures indeed.

The 彩衣 kingdom’s 胭脂 County was renowned for its literary culture, and masters of *shoutan* (Go) were not few. Soon, an elderly man in a green robe rose and walked towards the high platform. As he appeared, several self-proclaimed Go experts quietly sat back down, a testament to the old man’s undisputed position as the foremost Go player in 胭脂 County.

The old immortal and the green-robed elder exchanged nods of acknowledgment. The latter proceeded directly to the Go board and sat down. Before the game began, they had to determine who would move first. The elder, perhaps confident in his seventh-dan skill or deferring to his seniority, presumptuously grabbed a handful of white stones. The woman manifested from the yellow paper smiled faintly and picked up two black stones. As a result, the elder would make the first move.

Cheers immediately erupted along the lakeside.

As the 彩衣 kingdom’s foremost Go master, the green-robed elder was already a source of pride for 胭脂 County. The onlookers cheered for him, naturally supporting their own.

Then, the old immortal turned towards the two women seated before the writing desk, pointing to the one on the left. “I have heard that the esteemed County Governor has been troubled by a certain matter of late, the newly constructed temple still lacks a suitable couplet. After she completes it, whether it is used or not is up to the County Governor’s discretion. His Excellency is renowned throughout the kingdom for his brilliant writing and possesses discerning judgment, so he may review the content and decide.”

The County Governor stroked his beard and smiled, reserved yet pleased.

The old immortal then looked towards the military general seated beside the County Governor in the waterside pavilion and boomed with laughter, “General Ma is a meritorious warrior, a stalwart pillar of the 彩衣 kingdom’s borders, returning victorious from countless battles. Although I am a man of the cloth, I hold him in the highest regard. I have instructed her to embarrass herself and paint a ‘Great Snow, Full Draw’ painting for the General!”

The general drained his cup of wine in one gulp and roared with unrestrained laughter, “If the painting is truly well-done, and can capture the vastness of the battlefield, then on the day the old immortal departs the city, this Ma will personally escort you thirty *li*!”

The old immortal cupped his hands to thank the general and then walked to the zither stand. He slid an incense stick from his sleeve, placed it in the empty brass censer, and lit it himself. Wisps of fragrant smoke curled upwards, swirling with purple qi.

He nodded towards the zither-playing woman. She smiled charmingly, lowered her head, and began to gather her emotions.

As the melodious and ethereal music filled the air, the minds of the hundreds of listeners eased.

In the ancient and desolate past, sages created the zither to harmonize the sounds of the world. As the saying goes, the zither restrains licentiousness and rectifies the hearts of men.

Within the covered walkway, a burly man was cracking melon seeds and clicking his tongue, “Quite a few tricks, but it’s all so bland. It’s lacking something.”

He cared little for music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, his interest was minimal. He preferred watching women wield swords, the 彩衣 beauties and white-clad maidens twisting their lithe waists, the hint of their swaying hips, *that* was the scenery he loved to see.

The scholar Liu Gaohua was a Go fanatic, keenly curious about the game between the green-robed elder and the woman, regretting that he was merely an unworthy son of an eunuch, without the opportunity to personally observe the high platform in the heart of the lake.

The Daoist Zhang Shanfeng was truly anxious. He waited and watched, but Chen Ping’an still hadn’t appeared. Could he have truly fallen into the latrine? He couldn’t worry about giving people the cold shoulder and, after informing the two, rose to find Chen Ping’an.

The old immortal stood with his hands in his sleeves, a serene smile on his face, appearing unfathomable. He took in the lakeside scene, knowing that the majority of his scheme was already accomplished.

On the small street, Ma Kuxuan took out a porcelain bottle, poured out two silver pills, swallowed them, and said helplessly, “Master, you’re such a persistent ghost.”

It seemed that his master was secretly watching over him on this journey through the *jianghu*, which made Ma Kuxuan feel quite helpless. He understood his master’s temperament somewhat. He was like a rock in a smelly latrine, smelly and hard, once he had decided on something, he would follow it to the end. Ma Kuxuan wasn’t feeling guilty about anything. A True Martial Mountain elder who had imparted military secrets and bestowed a powerful treasure had explained the sect’s rules to Ma Kuxuan. Aside from the Mountain Lord’s orders, the rest were not true rules, but the True Martial Mountain Sect Master had been in seclusion for a hundred years, so it was becoming even more loose and unrestrained.

The man remained silent.

His purpose in descending the mountain this time was to escort Ma Kuxuan to seek trouble with the commander of the Sea Tide Iron Cavalry, related to the death of Ma Kuxuan’s grandmother. The dynasty to which the Sea Tide Iron Cavalry belonged was currently engaged in a fierce battle with its archenemy. The two sides were fighting a war that would shatter the heavens and split the earth. One side even used a hundred-zhang golden-bodied deity, while the other side deployed a Country-Pacifying Earth Ox, originally an iron ox placed by immortals in ancient times to suppress the water transport of great rivers. The Sea Tide Iron Cavalry suffered heavy losses in this battle. Ma Kuxuan infiltrated their ranks and, in a single night, assassinated three mid-level military officers before leaving in a flourish.

Afterwards, Ma Kuxuan said he wanted to venture into the *jianghu*, to hone his physique with the *jianghu* as a whetstone. The man did not refuse, but continued to secretly follow him to guard against unforeseen circumstances.

Ma Kuxuan reached out to wipe away his tears, heavily exhaled a mouthful of stale air, and clasped his hands behind his head, asking, “If, and I mean if, Chen Ping’an had the opportunity to kill me, Master, would you intervene to kill him?”

The man finally spoke, “I dare not kill him, nor do I want to kill him.”

He dared not, because someone had once gone to the Dali imperial palace, causing heavy losses to the Flying Sword White Jade Tower, and that person was obviously closely related to Chen Ping’an. If it were only so, as time passed, there would still be people who would become restless, but he did not expect that the ascended Upper Five Realm sword cultivator would actually return to the mortal realm so quickly. Although he was punched back to the Radiant World by the Dao Ancestor’s second disciple, the “Truly Invincible,” to put it bluntly, how many people in the world were qualified to take a full-force punch from the Dao Ancestor’s Second Disciple?

He did not want to, because the man had a good impression of Chen Ping’an. If it were not for the sect’s rules, he felt that the Mud Bottle Alley youth, who had realized the true meaning of fist techniques so early, would have been better suited to be his disciple.
The decree to accept Ma Kuxuan as a direct disciple was a stern edict issued by the Sect Leader during a crucial period of secluded cultivation. It demanded that the entire True Martial Mountain treat the matter with utmost importance, allowing for no mistakes whatsoever, lest he hold them accountable upon his return. Therefore, True Martial Mountain dispatched him to the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven to contend for Ma Kuxuan against the Golden Boy and Jade Maiden of the Divine Decree Sect. During this process, the man never yielded an inch, even displaying an aggressive and unyielding demeanor.

However, while the man was regarded as Ma Kuxuan’s master in name, this was not entirely accurate. In Buddhism, there are Sutra Preachers, Ascetics, Dharma Instructors, and Dharma Protectors, among others. His true role was that of a Guardian, one who watched over Ma Kuxuan’s path to the Great Dao. Whether Ma Kuxuan’s path aligned with his own was of little consequence.

The man suddenly said, “However, you may kill Chen Pingan, provided you are capable of doing so.”

This was not an incitement but a simple statement of fact.

Ma Kuxuan scoffed, “Capable? How could I not be! Who doesn’t know how many treasures are packed into that minuscule artifact of his? Surely, Master, you are aware?”

The man chuckled, “You possess them, but does that mean others do not?”

Ma Kuxuan grinned, a look of disdain upon his face. “Even if he does, how can he compare to me? Setting aside the True Martial Mountain’s ancestral Golden Body Divine Transformation, the two heroic spirits residing within my soul alone possess the greatest killing power. Unless a sword cultivator ascends to the Middle Five Realms, even if his flying sword pierces me a thousand times, can it harm me in the slightest?”

The man asked, “Then why did you not use them and allow yourself to be beaten so miserably?”

“This fight is far more interesting than the petty squabbles on True Martial Mountain. I would never resort to some damned treasure and let that fellow lose without understanding why. That’s not my style, and I refuse to humiliate Chen Pingan in such a way. I want to utterly crush him in what he believes to be his greatest strength. Isn’t he a pure martial artist, blessed with a superior physique? I’ll use my body, forged in the art of war, to clash with him head-on. Master, do you truly believe I sealed myself off, unaware of the peculiarity of Chen Pingan’s fist?”

Ma Kuxuan smiled. “I knew it. That’s why I initially avoided Chen Pingan, evading his sharp edge. But then I thought, if I must avoid a Third Realm martial artist, should I also sidestep Sixth Realm, Ninth Realm, or even Peak Realm Grandmasters like Song Changjing? Even if I hold the advantage in cultivation, should I still avoid them?”

The man asked, “So, what is your answer?”

Ma Kuxuan turned back. The master and disciple had walked far, nearing the city gate. The back-carrying youth was no longer visible. Ma Kuxuan withdrew his gaze, his eyes filled with resolve. “When facing others in the future, I can decide whether to avoid their greatest strengths based on the situation, as long as I win in the end. But not that fellow! I want to use the physique of a Fifth Realm Qi Practitioner to fight a Third Realm martial artist’s physique in a fierce, head-on battle!”

The man remained noncommittal.

Ma Kuxuan frowned and asked, “Why is Chen Pingan’s Third Realm physique so resilient? Although I have not excelled in tempering my body, focusing more on summoning the ancestral heroic spirits of True Martial Mountain, my ‘not excelling’ is only relative to myself. How does Chen Pingan possess such an unreasonable physique?”

The man shook his head and said, “Everyone has their own opportunities. You cannot expect to monopolize all the good fortune in the world, Ma Kuxuan.”

Ma Kuxuan scoffed, “Anything good or worthwhile within my sight should belong solely to me, Ma Kuxuan!”

The man simply smiled.

Many truths were left unsaid, not because Ma Kuxuan was right. Many praises were withheld, not because Ma Kuxuan was lacking.

A Guardian only needed to ensure that the path beneath their protégé’s feet led higher and farther, never allowing them to perish prematurely.

And Ma Kuxuan was destined to walk high and far.

As for how far he could go, and with whom in history he would stand shoulder to shoulder, many influential figures in the shadows of Treasure Bottle Continent were watching with anticipation.

As they walked, the black-clad youth reached out, covering his abdomen with one hand and supporting his cheek with the other, cursing, “Damn, that really hurts!”

Chen Pingan forcefully gathered his spirit, preventing his energy from faltering. He then searched for the so-called assassin. There was no sign of the corpse on the street. He leapt onto the wall, hunched over as he ran, abruptly stopping and descending. Below the wall where he had confronted Ma Kuxuan was a pile of ashes, within which lay a small white bowl and a charred piece of ebony. Chen Pingan did not approach, standing his ground and staring intently. The small white bowl was painted with the Five Sacred Mountains. The ebony offered no clues.

The assassin must have been instantly killed by the soldier-cultivator and then incinerated by True Martial Mountain’s secret art. However, the man had deliberately left behind the assassin’s treasured possessions, not destroying them along with the body. Could this be his way of expressing apology? Chen Pingan hesitated for a moment, then squatted down, picking up the ebony piece, which, though only a foot long, weighed eight or nine pounds. He then picked up the small white bowl, turning it in his fingers and scrutinizing it closely. The five mountains depicted on the bowl, if Chen Pingan remembered correctly, were the Five Sacred Mountains of the ancient Yu Kingdom.

It was not difficult for Chen Pingan to guess the assassin’s identity. He was likely a subordinate of the scholar from the old mansion, Master Chu. That man had spoken of being on equal footing with the emperor of the ancient Yu Kingdom. Before dying, his body transformed into rotten wood, clearly using a death-replacement technique, and he had vowed to seek trouble for Chen Pingan. Later, Yang Huang, the ghost spirit, mentioned his wife’s female elm heartwood. It was all quite clear. Master Chu’s foundation lay in a body transformed from an ancient elm and the female elm heartwood of the female ghost from the old mansion. Hence, the tree demon had used the word “connecting.”

Since they were the relics of a mortal enemy, Chen Pingan took them without hesitation. Not only that, but he also felt some resentment towards the assassin’s meager possessions. Why didn’t he even carry a few dozen snowflakes of money?

Chen Pingan stored the light white bowl and the heavy ebony in his miniature storage artifact. Unable to walk any further, he staggered a dozen steps to a thick apricot tree beside the wall. Leaning against the wall, he slowly sat down, taking a clean garment from his flying sword, Fifteen, to carefully wipe away the bloodstains.
He couldn’t very well tell people he’d gone to the privy and then returned covered in blood. Not only would the burly man with the beard and the young Daoist become suspicious, but the entire corridor would probably erupt in uproar. On such a lively day, Chen Ping’an didn’t want to become the center of attention, nor did he want to cause trouble for Liu Gaohua.

Chen Ping’an could endure hardship and pain, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. His desperate fight with Ma Kuxuan in the circle had left Chen Ping’an with serious internal injuries. Now, he just wanted to sit here, without thinking about anything. Over at the lakeside platform, the spectacle hadn’t yet ended, cheers constantly erupting. His view was blocked by a corridor and a throng of onlookers, so Chen Ping’an couldn’t see anything over there. He could only look up at the sky.

Beside him, an old apricot tree stood, its crown large and its branches lush, the apricot blossoms in full bloom, taking full advantage of the spring breeze.

People are just so different.

Both from the same small town, Ma Kuxuan didn’t care about things that others cared about, like being called an idiot or having his shoes dirtied. But when it came to things he *did* care about, Ma Kuxuan couldn’t stand anyone being even half a step ahead of him.

Liu Xianyang, on the other hand, would simply give up when Chen Ping’an did something better than him, like making bamboo bows or setting snares.

As for Gutong, the snot-nosed kid from Mud Bottle Lane, he wished Chen Ping’an would do even better, so Gutong could just follow behind and reap the benefits.

Of course, these differences, besides being due to innate temperament, were also related to how close they were to him.

Chen Ping’an uncorked his gourd for nourishing the sword and took a swig of strong liquor. This only made the burning sensation in his Qi Repository feel even worse, like adding frost to snow. But that was how strange things were. Even though it hurt terribly, Chen Ping’an, grimacing, actually wanted to drink even more. He didn’t gulp it down, but took small sips. A penniless drunkard considered even dregs of wine to be a delicacy, let alone the spirits in Chen Ping’an’s gourd, which tasted quite good.

Today’s battle on Small Street had been stifling in some ways, but more liberating.

Although Ma Kuxuan had been arrogant again, and they had only barely fought to a draw, Chen Ping’an never placed too much importance on victory or defeat. Like A-Liang said, “Don’t die, you have to stay alive, only then can you live well.” Chen Ping’an felt that A-Liang’s words, though crude, made perfect sense.

So Chen Ping’an raised his gourd high, above his head, shook it, and then froze, his face falling as he dejectedly lowered the gourd. Any grand pronouncements that were about to burst forth were swallowed back down.

It turned out the liquor was gone.

Chen Ping’an lowered his head and secured the gourd to his waist. Suddenly, he remembered something. With the sword intent connected to Flying Sword Fifteen, a silk embroidered pouch appeared in his hand. He opened it, and inside were three pieces of peach blossom cake. Chen Ping’an lowered his head and sniffed them. They hadn’t spoiled at all. The spatial item was truly miraculous. After so long, the cakes were still as fresh as when he received them from Fallen Phoenix Mountain.

Chen Ping’an held the pouch in one hand and picked up a piece of cake with the other, putting it in his mouth and chewing it slowly. He leaned his head against the wall and looked up at the apricot blossoms.

After eating a whole piece of cake, he couldn’t bear to eat any more, carefully wrapping up the pouch.

Chen Ping’an smiled brightly, thinking that the peach blossom cakes from his own shop were truly delicious!

His first thought was that he wanted Miss Ning to try them. Imagining their next meeting, Chen Ping’an chuckled to himself for a while, then suddenly slapped himself, “You idiot.”

Without Wei Bo’s meticulously prepared medicinal bath, the speed of Chen Ping’an’s recovery was the difference between flying on a sword and walking. But after resting for a while, he could walk normally without any problems. Just as Chen Ping’an was about to get up and return to his seat in the corridor, he heard a faint rustling of footsteps in the distance, one heavy and one light, most likely a man and a woman.

Chen Ping’an thought for a moment and decided to continue sitting at the base of the wall. With the apricot tree providing cover, he could just wait for them to leave before moving.

But what happened next left Chen Ping’an dumbfounded. The two people, seemingly because the man was not from Caiyi Kingdom, spoke in the Elegant Tongue of Treasure Bottle Continent. When they reached the dimly lit area near the apricot tree, they began to embrace. The man and woman breathed heavily, the woman gently refusing, but welcoming nonetheless. The man, a shameless fellow, began to kiss the woman’s face passionately, and his hands were probably not behaving themselves either.

Chen Ping’an felt restless. What should he do? Should he warn the amorous couple? Or should he hope they would know when to stop and leave?

He shouldn’t join in on this kind of spectacle. If he were discovered, he would be in a real mess, guilty or not.

After hesitating for a moment, Chen Ping’an decided to stand up and coughed.

The young woman by the apricot tree screamed and hid behind the man.

The man strode around the apricot tree, his eyes wide, staring at Chen Ping’an’s blurry figure. Seeing that it was a skinny young man of short stature, he immediately became emboldened. “Don’t be afraid! Even if this flower-picking rogue kills me, I won’t abandon you! If he wants to take advantage of you, he’ll have to step over my dead body!”

The woman was on the verge of tears, not knowing if it was from fear or from being moved. She leaned her shoulder against the man’s broad, warm back, murmuring with affection, “Liu-lang, you’re so good.”

Chen Ping’an stood there, stunned, not exactly angry, but feeling like laughing and crying. He thought, “Were you two also hit in the head by an ox’s tail when you were little?”

As they stood in deadlock, Chen Ping’an had to find a pretext, and said with feigned embarrassment, “Young master, miss, you may have misunderstood. I was here before you. Because it’s my first time in this residence, I don’t know where the privy is, so I had to…”

Unexpectedly, the man roared, “Shameless one! Flower-picking rogue! Why aren’t you fastening your belt? What are you trying to do? How disgusting! The world actually has someone as lustful as you!”

At the same time, he didn’t forget to comfort the woman behind him, who was pale with fright. “Miss Liu, just hide behind me. Don’t let this kind of guy taint your eyes.”

Finally, the man winked at Chen Ping’an in secret, full of triumphant smugness, his face seeming to say, “I’m going to play the hero and save the damsel today! Just the right moment to strike while the iron is hot and win this little beauty over! What are you going to do about it, come and hit me!”

Chen Ping’an looked at him.

A handsome young man, tall and slender, with a face like jade, a typical frail scholar. No wonder the burly man with the beard often lamented that there weren’t many good people among the scholars. Nor were there few blind maidens among the daughters of noble and common families, who actually looked down on him, Xu, and instead liked those sickly scholars.
Then, Chen Ping’an took a single stride, instantly appearing before the scholar. He unleashed a palm strike, sending the man sprawling horizontally onto the ground, immediately rendered unconscious.

The young woman stood frozen, her mouth agape, her eyes vacant. She desperately wanted to scream, yet dared not, stifling the urge with great effort, terrified that this ruthless assailant might slay her as well. If that were to happen, wouldn’t she and her beloved Liu Lang, whom she had only recently met, truly become a pair of doomed lovers? But in the tales of talented scholars and beautiful maidens, shouldn’t there be parental disapproval, various hardships, and a series of ups and downs, ultimately leading to a happy ending, with the virtuous man and lovely woman finally united? No book ever depicted a scholar and his lady being beaten to death by a brigand!

Chen Ping’an strode away with purpose, adjusting the sword box on his back, without even a backward glance.