(Took a leave yesterday, here’s a large 15,000-character chapter to make up for it.)

To merely witness a pure martial artist’s breakthrough from the third to the fourth realm, and yet find such a spectacle to behold! Song Yushao felt that even if the current martial world was no longer pleasing, being able to live a few more years would be a worthwhile endeavor.

Song Yushao gently patted the old sword at his waist. Drawn by the mighty aura emanating from the waterfall, the longsword within its scabbard, already spiritually connected to the old man, stirred with impatience. Standing within the waterside pavilion, Song Yushao lamented, “If Gao Feng were still alive, he would likely be standing here tonight.”

The second master of Swordwater Manor, Song Gaofeng, the father of the young manor lord Song Fengshan, was also a sword genius of unparalleled talent. Alas, fate is often cruel to the gifted. Beset by emotional turmoil, he strayed down a treacherous path. This was Song Yushao’s greatest unresolved grief. That tragedy was, to a large extent, orchestrated by Song Yushao himself. For Song Fengshan’s mother was also a spirit creature of the mountains and forests, a forbidden existence not tolerated by the world. But back then, Song Yushao was brimming with vigor, never caring for worldly views, relying solely on his sword to look down upon the imperial court and the martial world of Shuishui Kingdom. He considered himself invincible in the land and began to ascend mountains and seek immortals alone. In the end, he rescued a kind-hearted young girl, a spirit of grass and trees transformed into human form. Song Yushao not only did not despise her origin but instead brought her back to the manor. She and the young Song Gaofeng fell deeply in love. Song Yushao still did not object, and ultimately, he sat calmly in the honored seat, accepting the wine of respect from the loving couple.

If it had ended there, it would have been a beautiful tale of love and harmony. However, things are unpredictable. The spirit woman meticulously cultivated a flower garden, abundant in spiritual energy, where flowers bloomed in all seasons. Unbeknownst to them, rumors spread among martial artists, exaggerating the garden into a mythical elixir. They claimed that a single plant could increase one’s cultivation by decades. Afterward, when someone secretly plucked one or two plants, the kind-hearted woman would turn a blind eye, allowing the thieves to take them. The manor also explicitly stated that the plants in the garden did not have the miraculous effect of increasing one’s power, but merely prolonged life slightly. As time passed, the grandmasters and masters in the martial world who coveted the garden gradually extinguished their base desires. But one day, not only was most of the flower garden stolen, but the thief was still not satisfied, trampling the remaining flowers and plants, leaving a scene of utter devastation. The flower garden was not beneficial to the martial artists’ cultivation, but it was the great opportunity for Song Gaofeng’s wife. After this disaster, the woman was heartbroken and emaciated.

Following the clues, Song Gaofeng found the culprit, a woman of the martial world who had turned her love into hatred for him. Song Gaofeng delivered that sword strike without hesitation, but it was intercepted by the woman’s father. That man was the martial arts alliance leader of Shuishui Kingdom at the time, a renowned boxing grandmaster famous across several nations. He was also a military general from the border, with deep-rooted connections in the imperial court, deeply trusted and relied upon by His Majesty the Emperor. The so-called popular martial arts alliance leader was merely a means for the Emperor to control the martial world.

No matter how desperately Song Gaofeng attacked, he was no match for that man. After returning to Swordwater Manor, the woman and her father followed him to apologize. The old martial arts alliance leader, of the same generation as Song Yushao, was willing to cut off one of his arms on the spot, standing outside the manor gate with blood dripping, saying it was to atone for his daughter’s sins. Even if Song Yushao’s swordsmanship was a level above that man’s martial cultivation, what could he do? Cut off another arm of that man? Then slice off the head of the troublemaking woman with a single sword?

He could only let it go.

Song Gaofeng did not say a word, not even showing his face, only staying by his wife’s sickbed.

After the father and daughter left, Song Yushao turned away dejectedly, going to tell his son the outcome of the matter. Song Gaofeng refused to see him, only saying three words: “I understand.”

Finally, Song Yushao learned that his son Song Gaofeng had entered the demonic path, practicing a demonic secret manual. The last time he roamed the martial world, he disguised his face, changed his weapon, and left his sword at home. On the day when the boxing grandmaster washed his hands of the world and resigned from his position as alliance leader, Song Gaofeng sneaked into the residence, seriously injured, but successfully avenged his enemy. When Song Gaofeng returned to the manor, he was already at the end of his life, eventually passing away with his dying wife.

At that time, Song Yushao stood outside the door, his young grandson Song Fengshan silently guarding his parents’ bedside, without shedding tears, without saying a word.

In the martial world, one is not only at the mercy of one’s circumstances, but also at the mercy of one’s heart.

Song Yushao’s guilt towards Song Gaofeng was transferred to his grandson Song Fengshan. Especially after Song Fengshan insisted on marrying a spirit woman, after that incident, Song Yushao was completely disheartened, increasingly regretting himself. Therefore, even if Song Fengshan colluded with the other three fiends of Shuishui Kingdom, Song Yushao was unwilling to strike a killing blow, no longer willing to use his own martial world rules to control the willful Song Fengshan.

Song Yushao knew exactly what Song Fengshan was planning to do.

That night, Song Gaofeng killed the former martial arts alliance leader who had connections in the imperial court, but the real culprit escaped unscathed. Afterward, His Majesty the Emperor was unwilling to break ties with Swordwater Manor, probably feeling some guilt as well, so he personally acted as a matchmaker, allowing the poor woman who survived the ordeal to become the wife of a meritorious general of Shuishui Kingdom, becoming the highest-ranking noble lady of the kingdom.

Everyone knew that the old Sword Saint Song Yushao adhered to the rules of the martial world. Therefore, the Sword Saint of Shuishui Kingdom, the number one person in the martial world, was not something the Emperor of Shuishui Kingdom had to worry about. As for Song Yushao’s grandson, he was very young at the time, and everyone felt that his memory was definitely vague, destined to not become a major threat.

And so, for the next twenty years or so, the martial world of Shuishui Kingdom was peaceful, and the seat of the martial arts alliance leader remained vacant for more than twenty years.

Until Song Fengshan opened the gates of Swordwater Manor wide, hosting a grand banquet for heroes from all directions, and was about to hold a formal alliance leader ceremony tomorrow.

Song Yushao had long lost interest in the martial world, but he was definitely not indifferent to everything. Why had he often traveled the martial world alone for so many years? Was it really just to relax? Did he not care about his grandson?

Absolutely not.

But Song Yushao knew that one day, dark clouds would loom over the city, directly attacking Swordwater Manor, the place where all his life’s efforts were concentrated. His grandson Song Fengshan would overstep boundaries, becoming a target of the court and the public under the seemingly beautiful situation. Beyond this unresolved grief, Song Yushao had another unresolved grief. The first was his guilt towards his son Song Gaofeng, and the second was that the martial world rules he adhered to were diametrically opposed to his grandson’s actions.
The Sword Saint of Shuishui Kingdom hesitated within. Should he draw his sword against the Imperial Court? Would doing so be an affront to the Emperor’s authority? Song Yushao didn’t truly care about that; his concern lay in the act going against his very nature.

Deep down, the old man had never truly accepted Song Fengshan’s Jianghu.

This was something he could not share with anyone.

His previous journey through the Jianghu had been an attempt to find a martial arts senior, both rival and friend, the Sword Saint of Caiyi Kingdom, whose virtue and skill soared to the clouds. Song Yushao had sought not only to spar and seek guidance but also to resolve this inner conflict. Alas, the elder, whose swordsmanship bordered on the divine, had passed away. This forced Song Yushao to turn back halfway, leading to his encounter at the ancient temple.

The black-clad old man was overcome with emotion at the waterside pavilion, his thoughts adrift. He failed to notice the young man who had broken through his cultivation barrier with a punch, lingering for an extended period behind the waterfall’s curtain.

By the time Song Yushao sensed something amiss and was about to investigate, Chen Ping’an emerged slowly from behind the waterfall. He leapt back, landing gracefully within the pavilion, his bloodied hands hastily wrapped in cotton cloth.

Song Yushao put aside his troubling thoughts and asked with a smile, “You’ve tasted the manor’s fine wine and now ascended to the Little Grandmaster realm. How does it feel? Even better, isn’t it?”

But Chen Ping’an’s next words caused the old man’s eyes to widen. “It feels like I’m still a little short of breaking through. Right now, it’s like I’ve shattered the waterfall with a single punch, but I’m still short one step.”

Song Yushao scrutinized the youth’s restrained aura, his fist intent flowing like a torrential waterfall, truly deserving the description of possessing myriad aspects. The old man exclaimed in astonishment, “You’re clearly a solid Fourth Realm cultivator! I dare say I’ve never seen a Third Realm as firm and steady as you were, nor a Fourth Realm as complete as you are now. Chen Ping’an, how can you still feel like you’re lacking that one step?!”

Chen Ping’an replied helplessly, “Senior Song, I truly am short of that final touch. I can’t explain the reason, but I know it to be true. However, I now have a general direction, a path to follow. I won’t be aimlessly wandering around like before. If I can slowly cultivate and refine it, I might break through near Old Dragon City. With a bit of luck, I might even inexplicably break through at your Shuishui Kingdom’s Immortal Ferry. But my luck has never been great, so it’s more likely I’ll break through at Old Dragon City.”

Song Yushao placed his hands behind his back, slowly circling the youth twice before stopping. He clicked his tongue in amazement, “There are people beyond people, heavens beyond heavens. Today, I’ve truly broadened my horizons.”

Song Yushao laughed heartily, “Come, let’s drink! Regardless, even if you haven’t fully broken through, it’s still a tremendously joyous occasion worth celebrating!”

Chen Ping’an shook his wine gourd, noting that he still had plenty. He nodded with a smile, “Alright.”

Song Yushao suddenly asked, “There’s a hot pot restaurant in the town outside the manor that’s exceptional. The ingredients are so good they’ll make you want to eat your tongue, and the wine is excellent too. Would you like to try it? It’s just about lunchtime now. I have a good relationship with the owner there; he can give us a 20% discount.”

Upon hearing about the discount, Chen Ping’an immediately exclaimed with heroic spirit, “Then I’ll pay!”

Song Yushao chuckled, “Oh? Just so you know, a hot pot meal with fine wine at that restaurant will cost at least five or six taels of silver.”

Chen Ping’an blinked, his face remaining calm and collected. “The town is a bit far from the manor, isn’t it? Perhaps we should just drink in the courtyard.”

Song Yushao gave him a thumbs up, “Such a heroic spirit of one who throws away a thousand gold coins at a whim!”

Chen Ping’an suddenly burst out laughing, “Let’s go, why not? Hot pot for lunch it is!”

Song Yushao was taken aback. Not giving Chen Ping’an a chance to change his mind, he laughed and declared, “Follow me!” He then shot out of the pavilion, leaping from the high branches of the trees, making his way towards the manor’s exit.

Chen Ping’an had no choice but to abandon his intention to invite Xu Yuanxia and Zhang Shanfeng, and quickly followed after him.

Above the pavilion, the mother and son had now been taken to Qingxia Island in Book Mountain Lake by the True Lord of Interception. The little brat named Gu Can had obtained an incredible opportunity before leaving the town, able to control a water dragon comparable to a Tenth Realm Qi Refiner? And that water dragon’s cultivation level was rising rapidly, potentially breaking through the Tenth Realm bottleneck within a few decades?

The old man nodded. “The Great Li Dynasty, under the direct supervision of the National Preceptor, has established a special intelligence agency to record the growth of these children from the Luminous Pearl Grotto-Heaven. Besides Gu Can, there’s also Ma Kuxuan from Apricot Blossom Lane, Zhao Yao from Fortune Street, Xie Lingqi, the long-browed child of the Xie family. Most are from this town, but there are also foreign Qi Refiners who’ve obtained opportunities and blessings here, such as the Great Sui Dynasty’s Prince Gao Xuan. Sixteen in total.”

Cao Xi slowly walked forward, stopping again. “And what about these two households?”

The owners of the two adjacent residences: one had already been recorded in the Great Li Dynasty’s Song clan genealogy as Song Mu, recently returning to the capital with His Majesty the Emperor. The other was named Chen Ping’an, who had embarked on a southern journey but owned two shops in the town and five mountain peaks in the western mountains.

The old man said awkwardly, “Among the sixteen, neither His Highness the Prince nor Chen Ping’an is included.”

Cao Xi gave an “oh” sound. “What about Li Xisheng?”

The Green Mountain Elder, a Pillar of State in the Great Li Dynasty, shook his head. “Also no.”

Cao Xi turned to Cao Jun, who had a long and short sword hanging at his waist. “You fought Li Xisheng, and he, with a Sixth Realm cultivation, managed to prevent you, a Ninth Realm swordsman, from achieving anything. What do you think?”

Cao Jun said unhappily, “What can I think? He’s strong, and I’m useless.”

Cao Xi chuckled. “Next, you, this useless person, will soon be joining the army on the border. If you’re lucky, you might be able to stay by the side of Great Li’s Prince Song Changjing, following the Great Li iron cavalry all the way south, perhaps stopping only after reaching the central part of Treasure Bottle Continent. What do you think of that?”

Cao Jun replied directly, “Just wasting my time and waiting to die.”

Cao Mao, a member of the Great Li’s premier aristocratic family, somewhat admired Cao Jun. Although he and this swordsman appeared to be around the same age, there was actually a difference of sixty years between them. He had often drunk with Cao Jun recently, knowing that Cao Jun’s cynicism and lack of concern for anything were ingrained in his bones, not just some superficial performance.

Cao Xi said sternly, “If you can’t kill one or two Tenth Realm old bastards within ten years, I’ll personally kill you!”

Cao Jun hugged the back of his head and said to Cao Mao with a smile, “After I die, remember to collect my body and bury me near the Immortal Cemetery. I think the Feng Shui there is good. Being neighbors with clay Buddhist bodhisattvas and Taoist heavenly officials will be good for my mood because I won’t have to listen to anyone nagging. My ears will definitely be clear, and no one will disturb my sweet dreams.”
Pity for their misfortune may be absent, but anger at their lack of ambition is genuine. Cao Xi erupted in rage, “You little rascal! Do you even know what price I paid to repair that Innate Sword Qi Lotus Pond in your heart of the lake?!”

Cao Jun’s eyes narrowed into slits when he smiled, resembling a cunning fox. “How would I know? Why don’t you tell me?”

Cao Xi sneered, “Having a descendant like you is a family misfortune. No matter how much auspicious smoke rises from our ancestral graves, it’s all for naught! Get lost! Go to the capital to find Song Changjing, then head straight to the southern border. I don’t want to see you for the next ten years.”

Cao Jun left as soon as he was told, soaring into the air, laughing wildly as he rode the wind toward the north.

Cao Mao, the supervisor who knew the rules of this land, was about to speak up to remind him, but it was too late.

Near the Dragon Whisker River on the south side of the town, a military sage at the sword shop coldly chuckled, “Some things are never learned.”

In the azure sky above Longquan County, a spectacle resembling a spring gushing water appeared, and a long sword slowly ascended.

“Ruan Qiong, are you not even going to give me this face?”

Cao Xi’s face turned grim. With a flick of his wrist, his natal flying sword, a slender, emerald-green cord, appeared. This was Sword Immortal Cao Xi’s greatest reliance in traversing the Southern Saha Continent, a half-immortal weapon forged by an ancient deity from a ten-thousand-mile river. As Cao Xi’s mind stirred, the emerald-green cord on his wrist, though not fully materialized, trembled slightly, emanating wisps of green water vapor that swiftly shot toward the high sky where Cao Jun’s figure was disappearing.

The sword that Ruan Qiong launched from the spring-like aperture aimed for the head of the rule-breaking sword cultivator Cao Jun. Its speed far surpassed Cao Jun’s wind-riding journey north. If nothing unexpected happened, Cao Jun would have his head chopped off before leaving the border of the former Old Lizhu Grotto-Heaven.

Fortunately, between Ruan Qiong’s flying sword and Cao Jun’s figure, a vast, surging river of water appeared out of thin air. The river severed the long sky, blocking the path of Ruan Qiong’s flying sword.

With a sword, the narrow river, no more than a few miles wide, was cleaved in twain, the two ends folding up and pressing down on the sharp flying sword that continued to advance. The great river lapped against the shore, constantly hindering the progress of the flying sword, which resembled a lone boat. Even with the river’s endless waters, the flying sword wielded by the military sage of the Wind and Snow Temple continued to cleave the river, advancing relentlessly.

Cao Jun didn’t stop, but turned around, his long sword unsheathed from his waist, precisely striking the tip of Ruan Qiong’s flying sword. Cao Jun’s long sword was sent flying, and he spat out a mouthful of blood, but his figure retreated and flew away at an even faster speed.

A hundred-mile-long river rolled into a ball, tightly wrapping Ruan Qiong’s flying sword. Within the emerald-green sphere of water, sword qi continuously shot out until the river finally shattered, transforming into a sky full of raindrops. However, before the water droplets could fall to the ground, they re-condensed into wisps of emerald-green sword qi, leisurely returning to the Mud Bottle Lane of the town.

Ruan Qiong’s natal flying sword, unharmed, hovered in the high sky for a moment. Below the long sword, a small pool of water reappeared. The flying sword slowly descended, sinking into the pool, and then disappeared into the air.

This Saha Continent sword cultivator, who had previously tasted Ruan Qiong’s fist, successfully left the battlefield. Cao Jun laughed heartily, “A good wind lends its strength, sending me to the blue sky! I thank Saint Ruan and the Old Ancestor for their joint send-off!”

Inside Mud Bottle Lane, the old man, Cao Xi, the Pillar of State of the Cao family, was filled with mixed emotions. Although he was not a Qi refiner, his family had no shortage of mountain experts as patrons. But to witness such earth-shattering clashes between immortals, was still rare. Cao Mao, the supervisor of kilns and direct grandson of the Cao family in the capital, asked, “Old Ancestor, what if we offend the Sage of this land because of this?”

Cao Xi sneered, “If I can’t beat the Twelfth Realm Daoist Heavenly Lord of the Northern Ju Lu Continent, can’t I beat a new Eleventh Realm of the Treasure Bottle Continent? Cao Jun may disgrace the Cao family, but I won’t disgrace the Qi refiners of the Saha Continent!”

At this moment, Cao Xi, the Pillar of State, and Cao Mao, the supervisor, truly realized why this Old Ancestor, who seemed amiable in the small town, was able to become the gatekeeper of that imposing seaside town.

A man stood at the other end of Mud Bottle Lane’s entrance, “Then let’s try it?”

Cao Xi grinned, “Sure, you pick the location, and I’ll pick the time!”

The man, who had come from the sword shop to question him, said without hesitation, “In the western mountains, there’s a hundred-mile-wide mountain hollow, sparsely populated, and with the Great Li’s array restrictions still in place. It’s enough for you and me to decide the victor.”

Cao Xi nodded vigorously, “Good, let’s fight in a hundred years!”

Ruan Qiong paused, spat on the ground, turned, and left.

Cao Mao covered his face.

The Cao family’s Pillar of State didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Cao Xi rolled his eyes, “What? This is called outsmarting, what do you know!”

Cao Xi was the first to walk into his old house. As the grandfather and grandson were about to follow, the door slammed shut.

Cao Mao and the grandfather of the Great Li’s Pillar of State smiled wryly at each other, and could only leave Mud Bottle Lane and head to the supervisor’s yamen to secretly discuss the family’s next plans.

The winds and rains have already risen in the northern part of the Treasure Bottle Continent, and the situation is very favorable to the Great Li Dynasty. Of course, the earlier one enters the game, the greater the profits.

What’s more, the Cao family now has another great advantage: Old Ancestor Cao Xi will stay in the Treasure Bottle Continent for a period of time, and the genius sword cultivator Cao Jun will also join the Great Li’s border army. Presumably, His Majesty the Emperor will more or less remember this favor, and the Cao family will be able to steadily suppress their political rivals, the Yuan family, for the next hundred years.

The old man surnamed Cui, who was accustomed to coarse linen clothes and walking barefoot in the bamboo building of Fallen Phoenix Mountain, changed his temperament after the Lotus Crown Daoist Lu Chen paid him a visit. He put on a scholar’s cyan robe and scarf, made a bamboo staff for walking in the mountains, and a pair of wooden climbing sandals. He often went down the mountain to buy ancient books and writing supplies, arranging the second floor of the bamboo building as if it were the study of a scholarly family, and painting whenever he had free time.

The blue-robed boy and the pink-skirted girl looked at each other in dismay, mistaking that the old man had suffered a Qi deviation. Later, the pink-skirted girl looked at the old man’s calligraphy and painting, and often chatted with the old man, and then realized that the old man was a true erudite scholar, proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. He also had a very deep knowledge of orthodox Confucian studies.

The blue-robed boy, being carefree and afraid of life and death, was focused on the old man practicing martial arts so that he could become a powerful figure who was unrivaled in this small world, so that he could feel at ease. He often indirectly mentioned the hidden dragons and crouching tigers in Longquan County to the old man, reminding him not to take it lightly, and earnestly telling him about the unpredictable nature of the Great Li’s Jianghu, and that he still had to rely on his outstanding peak cultivation to deter villains.
It was a pity that the old man simply refused to pay any attention to that fellow, at most only chatting with the powder-skirted girl who sought his wisdom. As for the so-called martial path, it seemed he had simply discarded it on the ground, never to pick it up again. The azure-clad boy could only lament his helplessness, sighing that it was better to rely on oneself than to beseech others. He had no choice but to continue his diligent cultivation, striving to digest the two high-grade serpent gallstones that had entered his belly.

Recently, the newly appointed Northern Mountain Deity, Wei Bo, was extremely busy receiving guests and sending them off, but he would still occasionally come to the bamboo building to check on the small pond where a seed of the violet-gold lotus flower had been planted.

Besides the violet-gold lotus flower seed left at Fallen Mountain, Chen Ping An had, on Wei Bo’s advice, left a leisurely seal on the first floor of the bamboo building as a talisman to ward off evil. The seal was engraved with “Chen Shiyi” by Qi Jingchun, and it held no mystical secrets. It was simply a beautiful vision that Qi Jingchun had given to Chen Ping An at the time.

Beyond the tenth realm of martial arts was the realm of Human Martial Divinity, capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with the peak Qi cultivators of the world.

The powder-skirted girl valued this seal beyond measure, almost more than the book box entrusted to her by the young Cui Chan. Three times a day, morning, noon, and evening, she would secretly take out the small seal her master had taught her to use, carefully wiping it with a silk scarf. No matter how the azure-clad boy cajoled or tricked her, she would not allow him to touch it in the slightest.

Now, the powder-skirted girl, who hailed from the Zhilan Tower of the Yellow Court Kingdom, had, with the help of the serpent gallstones gifted by Chen Ping An, broken through the last threshold of the lower five realms, entering the first realm of the middle five realms, the Grotto Heaven realm. After that came the seventh Observation Sea realm, the eighth Dragon Gate realm, the ninth Golden Core realm, and the tenth Nascent Soul realm, still a long and distant road on the grand path.

However, compared to the Observation Sea realm azure-clad boy who suddenly wanted to strive for improvement, the powder-skirted girl was more inclined to let things take their natural course. Besides keeping the bamboo building spotless, she would read books and look at the scenery, her mind serene. She was more calm and at ease than the fierce Yu River water serpent or the book tower fire python that had transformed into a spirit.

And so, now it was the azure-clad boy who would disdain her for being foolish and lazy, lacking ambition.

One evening, the azure-clad boy was meditating on the cliff edge, while the powder-skirted girl sat on a small bamboo chair, cracking melon seeds. The old man surnamed Cui came downstairs, carried a bamboo chair, and sat beside the girl, softly saying, “The millennia-old Cui clan, the foremost scholarly family of Jewel Bottle Continent, has not been able to produce a spirit as clever as you, a fire python. From this, it can be seen that opportunities cannot be obtained through bitter seeking.”

The powder-skirted girl gave a well-behaved smile and asked, “Grandpa Cui, do you think my master has broken through his realm now?”

The old man gloated, “The strongest three realms of martial arts that I personally honed, where would they be so easy to break through? I estimate it will still be a while. Perhaps even when he arrives at Old Dragon City in the far south, Chen Ping An’s realm will still be unmoving, obediently staying at the bottleneck of the third realm, worrying himself every day and drinking in silence, then turning into a despondent little drunkard.”

The powder-skirted girl complained in a low voice, “Half of my master’s fist comes from your teaching, Grandpa Cui. How can you secretly be happy when my master doesn’t break through his realm?”

The old man laughed, “You, ah, are not one of us in the martial path, so you don’t know the weight of the saying ‘the strongest three realms in the world.’ I killed a Cui clan retainer at the peak of the sixth realm, Sun Shujian, with only the power of the fifth realm. Why? Because martial artists have different foundations, some thick and some thin. A poorly built foundation is like a tall building that sways in the wind, while a well-built foundation is like a famous mountain range, standing tall on the earth, not bothered by a little wind and rain, only feeling a tickle.”

The powder-skirted girl worried, “There’s no one to take care of my master. When he goes out, he has to do everything himself. Will that delay his fist practice?”

The old man glanced at the azure-clad boy’s back, then withdrew his gaze and looked at the worried little girl, sighing, “That the two of you can be together without fighting is thanks to Chen Ping An’s good guidance. I wonder if Chen Ping An can still be like this when his family grows larger, treating people and handling affairs impartially. Whether the rules of a small household are good or not is different from whether the family traditions of a powerful clan are righteous.”

The powder-skirted girl looked up, innocently asking, “If there really is such a day, Grandpa Cui, will you help my master a little?”

The old man touched the little fire python’s head, “Some family matters cannot be helped by outsiders.”

The old man slowly stood up, reaching out and pointing into the distance, “Imagine if there really is such a day, Chen Ping An establishes a sect, with you and the little water serpent, with the Chessboard Mountain black serpent that grows golden threads on its belly and four dragon claws, with so many mountain peaks. Once there are experts sitting on each mountain peak, such as that one who recognizes Chen Ping An as his teacher… and those children who call Chen Ping An Little Martial Uncle. Then you all become immortal residences in the eyes of the world, with sect elders, wanting to take in disciples. Chen Ping An gathers ten, a hundred, even a thousand or ten thousand people under his command. Once there are disputes and conflicts among his own people, Chen Ping An will feel that the back of his hand and the palm of his hand are both flesh, and it won’t be something that can be solved with a punch or a sword. How will he deal with it?”

The powder-skirted girl had read through the histories of various countries in the Zhilan Tower and knew the difficulty of this problem, so even her mood for cracking melon seeds was gone.

The old man surnamed Cui laughed, “Actually, there’s no need to worry too much. Chen Ping An has one good point that few people may have noticed…”

The powder-skirted girl waited for a long time but didn’t hear the old man continue, so she couldn’t help but ask, “Grandpa Cui, my master already has so many good points, are there still good things about him that I don’t know?”

The old man laughed heartily, “You little girl has one thing that’s really good, flattering people, especially your master, able to subtly influence like a gentle spring rain!”

The powder-skirted girl was a little embarrassed, thinking that she wasn’t being obsequious, her master was just that good.

The old man sat back in his bamboo chair, no longer keeping her in suspense, and said with a smile, “Chen Ping An is very easy to talk to. Everyone close to him will take this for granted, but one day, Chen Ping An will become very difficult to talk to on a certain matter, even the most difficult to talk to. At that time, strange things will happen, everyone will feel… guilty and afraid, and won’t immediately refute anything.”

The powder-skirted girl quickly put her hands together and murmured, “I don’t want my master to be angry.”

The old man sighed.

He had once killed someone outside the bamboo building and then aggressively asked Chen Ping An, “Are you going to practice fist with me, or learn how to be a person with me?”
These were the heartfelt words of an old man, but also the musings of a man with discerning eyes. This novel originated from the Novelist School, once one of the Nine Streams and Ten Schools of the vast world, but as time flowed, like the Mohist School, one of the Four Prominent Schools, it was no longer prominent. The Novelist School had also been reduced to one of the most common of the Hundred Schools of Thought, mostly writing some vulgar unofficial histories and sensational romance novels favored by the common people to attract attention. Of course, there were also criticisms of current affairs. In history, the reputations of many emperors, generals, and ministers were largely tarnished by the words of the Novelists. For example, some capable ministers who dedicated their lives to reforming the government, in the end, the thing they were most known for by later generations was not their wise policies, but something like “one night with ten women, enjoying every single one.” Or, for example, some Confucian gentlemen and sages who almost achieved the Three Imperishables (establishing merit, establishing virtue, and establishing words), would unexpectedly spend the night in a nunnery, eventually becoming just a shameless old lecher. And the great principles of morality and literature contained in this person’s teachings all became empty talk and jokes.

Therefore, a Confucian sage had to angrily exclaim: “The Novelists of the lowest class are the foremost in misleading the country and the people!”

However, the Sage of Rites, who formulated and managed the rules of the world, still treated them with the greatest tolerance, just like his attitude toward the demon race.

So at this moment, the old man Yang, flipping through that novel, disapproved of both sides in the Central Earth Divine Continent’s dispute between the “Three” and the “Four.” At most, he was willing to give a thumbs up and say “good” to the academic principles of the “Four,” to that single character. As for the “Three,” the Confucian sage who was nominally titled “Sub-Sage” but actually ranked only third in the Confucian Temple, Old Man Yang disliked him very much, believing that the term “sanctimonious,” which had degenerated from a positive to a derogatory meaning, was most appropriate to describe him.

The novel in Old Man Yang’s hands, faintly fragrant with ink, was purchased by the shop assistant from the book market in Dragon Spring County. It contained many accounts of the famous experiences of Jianghu heroes. When they were in adversity and desperation, there were always a few impassioned words, mostly complaining that the heavens were blind. Old Man Yang seemed to be quite happy every time he saw these, but in the end, he would close the book and say with a smile, “You young people, just let the heavens off the hook.”

After laughing, the old man put away the book, took a big puff of smoke, and then shook a small object resembling a small temple from his sleeve and dropped it on the ground. After thinking for a while, he tapped the ground beside his feet with his bamboo pipe and said softly, “Song Qing, come out.”

Green smoke billowed from the entrance of the small temple on the ground, quickly condensing into the appearance of an old man with a weathered face. Seeing Old Man Yang, he bowed to the ground and said in a deep voice, “Greetings, Divine Lord.”

Old Man Yang ignored him, but simply instructed: “You are permitted to leave this jurisdiction. Within the continent of Treasure Bottle, your cultivation will remain as it was in your lifetime. Your task is to serve as a guardian for Cao Jun, the son of the Cao family in Mud Bottle Alley. As long as Cao Jun repairs and completes that Sword Pond of the Heart, the descendants of your Song family will surely rise in this great trend and enjoy worldly glory for at least a hundred years. After that, the fate of your descendants, whether fortune or misfortune, will depend on their own actions.”

The old man was only a ghostly figure, but still had green smoke condensing into a long sword hanging at his waist. The sword aura was gone, but the sword intent was exuberant, making it clear that the old man must have been a swordsman in his lifetime. Hearing Old Man Yang’s promise, the old man’s face showed joy, and he bowed again, “Thank you for your grace, Divine Lord!”

Old Man Yang then waved his sleeve, and immediately golden talismans covered the old man’s entire body, serving as protective charms to ensure that the ghostly object could travel through the world. The latter’s spirit was greatly stabilized, and his aura soared. The intensity of his sword intent, if not for the large puff of smoke that Old Man Yang exhaled to conceal it, would have pierced the heavens and alarmed all the Qi Refiners in Dragon Spring County.

Old Man Yang said, “Go, Cao Jun has already gone to the capital of Great Li, you can directly tell him about this. Song Qing, if you dare to break the rules, not only will you, Song Qing, be destroyed on the spot, but I guarantee that I will exterminate your entire Song family, cutting off your incense offerings, and ensuring that there will be no trace of your Song family for thousands of years to come.”

The old man cupped his fist solemnly and said, “I would never dare to offend the Divine Lord!”

Old Man Yang sneered, “More words are useless, I will be watching your actions.”

The old man acknowledged the order and disappeared in a flash.

After the ghostly object from the small temple disappeared, Old Man Yang raised his head and looked at the heavy sky of the vast world, silent for a long time, and finally helplessly said: “That father and daughter from the Hengdao Mountain Manor, seem not to have come looking for trouble with me.”

Song Yushao said softly with a smile, “Green mountains and clear waters, there’s always a next time. It is the same with the Jianghu feuds. Fortunately, you are not a citizen of the Combing Water Kingdom and will soon be leaving, and may not come back in the future, otherwise you will have a lot of trouble.”

Song Yushao remembered one thing, “That time at the Water Pavilion, you seemed to have accumulated a bellyful of anger. I am a bit strange. If I, Song Yushao, were just an ordinary Jianghu person, from an observer’s point of view, logically speaking, without knowing your background, the Lord of Hengdao Mountain Manor, Wang Yiran, a long-renowned Jianghu master, was able to treat you, a young man, with courtesy, not only did he not rely on his power to bully you, but he was willing to apologize for his daughter, why do you still seem to be a little… unconvinced?”

Chen Pingan burped, took down the Sword-Nurturing Gourd from his waist, but did not drink, pondered for a moment, and said sternly, “I don’t have any opinions about Wang Yiran, but I think there is something wrong here.”

Song Yushao asked curiously, “What do you mean by this?”

Chen Pingan subconsciously took another sip of wine, and borrowing the dizzy feeling of the alcohol, slowly said, “I once heard an old gentleman talk about the concept of sequence. I haven’t read much and don’t know many characters, so my understanding is very shallow, but when I have nothing to do, I like to take out these learnings and think about them more. I think that right and wrong have a sequence, of course, they are also divided into large and small. You can’t use a later right to cover up an earlier wrong, even if the later right is very big and the earlier wrong is very small, you still have to first break down the earlier small wrong and say it clearly. The truth is completely explained, and then the later right can truly stand firm. This is like… a person can’t walk by skipping steps.”
“But these ideas I’ve cobbled together might not make sense, because during my travels south, I’ve read many books, and none of them talk about this sort of thing. So I’ve always been unsure if I’m right or wrong. But if we apply my logic to the events at Water Pavilion, you, Wang Yiran, don’t actually need to apologize to me. You only need to have your daughter step forward and say ‘I’m sorry,’ just those three words. Otherwise, in the end, Wang Yiran, a grandmaster of the martial world, apologizing for someone else – am I obligated to accept that? Even if I were to concede and accept it, would that mean your daughter was without fault? I don’t think so. No matter how right you, Wang Yiran, are, your daughter’s words and actions were wrong, plain and simple. That’s true today, it’ll be true tomorrow, and even ten years from now, if it were someone else, that sword-wielding woman called Wang Shanhu, she would still be in the wrong.”

Chen Pingan scratched his head, a hand still holding his gourd of wine. “Senior Song, these are just ramblings, nonsensical thoughts. I’m just making a fool of myself.”

Song Yushao was first stunned, then bewildered, and finally looked lost. He felt as if the martial world he knew had been turned upside down.

He reminisced about his life, especially the unbearable memories of his son Song Gaofeng. He had tried to avoid thinking about it, to not delve into the grudges and affections. But today, at this moment, the old man realized where his emotional knot truly lay, and why he felt such guilt and remorse, yet was unable to untie it.

His eyes reddening, the old man trembled as he picked up his chopsticks, took a morsel from the hotpot, and slowly chewed it, a smile gradually appearing on his face.

The old rules revered by seasoned veterans, the principles considered sacrosanct by the previous generation – it turned out, they were flawed!

What fault did my son, Song Gaofeng, truly have back then? Even if he had flaws, it was this damned martial world that was at fault first!

It was the former martial arts alliance leader, the general from the battlefield, who was wrong! That feud was not simply about a severed arm!

It was your daughter herself who owed my Song Yushao’s son, owed my daughter-in-law, an apology!

Unashamed of shedding tears in front of a young man, Song Yushao slowly put down his chopsticks, stood up, and heartily laughed to Chen Pingan, “This meal, I, Song Yushao, will treat you on behalf of my son, my daughter-in-law, and my Sword Water Manor!”

The second floor of the restaurant erupted in an uproar.

Because of the name Song Yushao and Sword Water Manor!

Because that name represented a century of elegance from half of the Shuishui Kingdom’s martial world!

The old man then cupped his fist towards Chen Pingan and said, “I have matters to discuss with my grandson, so I’ll be heading back to the manor. I might not have the chance to bid you farewell later, so I’ll just say the old martial world saying: ‘The green hills remain, the green waters flow. May we meet again someday!'”

Chen Pingan, completely bewildered, stood up. He watched as the old man leaped out the window and flew across the rooftops.

Song Yushao had worn that rusty iron sword for many years. Today, under the watchful eyes of everyone, he flew all the way to the manor’s front gate. Then, he strode across the threshold, ignoring any greetings or flattery. He went directly to a small courtyard that had been uninhabited for many years and found the young man, his grandson Song Fengshan, standing there with his eyes closed, lost in thought.

Song Fengshan opened his eyes, silent, just like when he was a child, standing guard by his parents’ sickbeds.

Song Yushao took off the iron sword from his waist, held it in one hand, and offered it to Song Fengshan, whose expression was cold. The latter asked, “Why?”

Song Yushao said in a deep voice, “This is your father Song Gaofeng’s sword. The son should inherit his father’s legacy, so it should be in your hands, Song Fengshan.”

Song Fengshan didn’t reach for the sword, and sneered, “Oh, another strange event. First, Grandfather, you rushed here early to celebrate your grandson’s alliance leader ceremony. Now, you’re giving me a broken iron sword. What, Grandfather finally wants to lay down the burden of the Sword Saint of Shuishui Kingdom and the old manor lord of Sword Water Manor? You want to enjoy a life of leisure with your grandchildren?”

This young man stood with his hands behind his back, his eyes sharp, but his face was all smiles, “It’s just that, I’m sorry, this unfilial grandson has some bad news to tell Grandfather. His Majesty the Emperor has personally issued several secret decrees. The Imperial Army, nearly ten thousand elite troops, has already gathered outside the state capital. Presumably, tomorrow they will bring the full force of their army and exterminate me, the rebellious new leader of the martial arts alliance. Grandfather, I don’t expect you to help me, really, that’s my honest wish. I only ask that you remain a bystander from beginning to end, only that you don’t bestow another sword upon me.”

Song Yushao stared at his grandson’s face and laughed heartily. He stepped forward and heavily patted him on the shoulder, making no attempt to conceal his joy and relief. The old man’s voice was low, “Worthy of being Song Gaofeng and Liu Qian’s son! Grandfather knows that the commander of this army is none other than that woman’s husband, Great General Chu Hao.”

Song Fengshan was filled with confusion, and his brows furrowed.

Song Yushao laughed, “Since that venomous woman is pushing her luck, I, Song Yushao, will use this opportunity to explain a principle to the martial world and the imperial court!”

The old man’s eyes welled up with tears. Still holding the iron sword tightly in one hand, he raised his other hand and gently smoothed out the frown on his grandson’s face. He murmured, “After all these years, it’s time for Grandfather to do something for you.”

The young man stepped back and lowered his head, raising an arm to shield his face.

The old man softly said, “Fengshan, from now on, Grandfather won’t nag you about those old rules. But I still hope you’ll listen this one last time. The old martial world has its wrongs, but those things that are right, the good things, I hope that in the future, when you’re in the martial world, you won’t completely deny them.”

The old man placed the old iron sword, which his grandson stubbornly refused to take, on the stone table in the courtyard. Then, he walked alone towards the courtyard gate. Along the way, he glanced towards the main house of the small courtyard, but even with the words at the tip of his tongue, he didn’t say them.

Song Fengshan asked in a hoarse voice, “Grandfather, where are you going?”

The old man strode forward and laughed, “Grandfather’s sword has been left in the pool under the waterfall all these years. I’m going to retrieve it!”

Even after the old man’s figure had disappeared into the distance, Song Fengshan remained standing there, unmoving.

The door of the courtyard house slowly opened, and a young woman walked out and asked, “Aren’t you going to stop Grandfather?”

Song Fengshan wiped away his tears, reached out and gently pressed on the sword on the table. With a confident smile, he said, “Since we’ve had this plan for a long time, and everything is under our control, don’t you want to see one man and one sword standing in front of the battle lines, stopping ten thousand soldiers? Anyway, this grandson of yours has been thinking about it, secretly thinking about it for so many years.”
The young woman asked curiously, “How did the Ancestor manage to see reason?”

Immediately after, the woman voiced her concerns, “From now on, the things our manor does, the Ancestor might not approve of.”

Song Fengshan scoffed, “At worst, I’ll let Grandpa stab me a few more times. If it really comes down to it, I’ll pull out Father’s sword and see if the old man will still have the heart to go all out!”

The woman teased, “Oh, you haven’t called him Grandpa in over twenty years, and today the sun rises in the west, you’re calling him that so smoothly.”

Song Fengshan glared back at her.

The young woman smiled radiantly.

She was, in truth, a loyal assassin for the Great Li Dynasty. One day, when the Great Li’s cavalry trampled upon the central territories of Precious Bottle Continent, she would be able to openly display the “Peace and Prosperity” plaque that the Great Li court bestowed upon cultivators.

Song Fengshan was well aware of this fact.

The next day, the assembly to elect a new Martial Alliance Leader for the Combing Water Kingdom was held at Sword Water Manor as scheduled.

Along the road from a Combing Water Kingdom provincial capital to Sword Water Manor, mounted troops galloped, dust swirling, blotting out the sky.

Within the massive army, a great general clad in bright, heavy armor, rode a tall, spirited horse. A smile played on the man’s lips as he gazed into the distance, his heart brimming with ambition. After crushing that worthless Sword Water Manor, he would undoubtedly be the Combing Water Kingdom’s foremost war hero.

Suddenly, the great general narrowed his eyes.

Before the army.

An elderly man in black robes, renowned as the Sword Saint of the Combing Water Kingdom, drew his sword from the waterfall and stood before the army.

Only behind the old man, at a distance, followed a sword-bearing youth with a gourd of wine hanging at his waist.

Before unleashing a fist upon the thousands of soldiers, the youth removed his gourd, tilting his head back and taking a hearty swig of wine, savoring the moment.