Chen Ping’an pushed open the door and entered.

The house was empty.

Without the old woman’s constant grumbling and complaining, there was naturally no scolding the heavens and the earth, a sharp tongue but a kind heart. Without the seemingly simple and honest woman who would steal books, her gaze towards her son was always filled with pride. Without the old man who was a terrible Go player, nor the man who carried a bundle to try his luck; he would always tiptoe before going out early in the morning, probably afraid of disturbing his son who was going to study at the school.

Chen Ping’an stood in the courtyard for a while, then returned to his room, placing the Longevity Sword back into its scabbard on the table. The books on the table were gone. Chen Ping’an squatted on the ground, placed his palm flat on the ground, closed his eyes, and tried to find some clues. The flying sword Fifteen swooshed out of the sword-nurturing gourd, flying close to the ground in rapid circles, finally pointing its tip downwards.

Chen Ping’an immediately began to dig into the ground with his bare hands. With his current martial arts realm, his five fingers could be described as cutting iron like mud.

The battle with Zhong Qiu on the street, elevating him to the Fifth Realm, followed by the battle with Ding Ying; these two whetstones, used to hone his martial arts, were far superior to sparring with the old Golden Core sword cultivator on Guihua Island, in terms of both physique and temperament. Especially the life-and-death battle with Ding Ying, from the city wall to Guniu Mountain, involving the very foundation of martial arts and the “world’s” martial fortune, even the Cui surname elder in the Bamboo Lodge of Luopo Mountain would praise it, saying that even a pure martial artist of the Eighth or Ninth Realm might not be able to display such imposing aura.

After a short while, he dug out a pit almost as tall as a man. Chen Ping’an held up the dying lotus infant with both hands, jumped out of the pit, and carefully placed it on the table. First, he took off the golden-thread jade gown he was wearing and wadded it up, making it look like a small grass nest, placing the little thing inside the gown.

Then, he quickly took out a Gu Yu coin from his pocket dimension. Compared to the Xiao Xue coins with their faint spiritual energy, and the Xiao Shu coins which, when touched, faintly felt spiritual energy flowing like water, the Gu Yu coin contained the most abundant spiritual energy, like frozen ice. Chen Ping’an held this mountain immortal coin in his palm and suddenly squeezed it. The Gu Yu coin shattered in his hand. Chen Ping’an slightly opened his hand and sprinkled the dust on the lotus infant.

As for what this Gu Yu coin could buy in immortal shops, how many strange and enchanting creatures, how many rare spirits unseen even in the homes of princes and wealthy families, Chen Ping’an was no longer a fledgling from the jianghu, not the mud-legged kiln apprentice from Nibottle Alley, so he knew everything clearly.

Chen Ping’an knew more and more about this world.

Luzhu Cave, Dali Dynasty, Baoping Continent, Sword Qi Great Wall, Tongye Continent, Lotus Root Blessed Land.

Chen Ping’an carefully observed the lotus infant. Spiritual energy flowed through its body like spring water, slowly seeping into a cracked, arid field.

Chen Ping’an felt slightly relieved. As long as it could still absorb spiritual energy, it meant it could be saved. He extended his thumb and gently stroked the little fellow’s pure white forehead.

After settling the lotus infant and refilling the pit, Chen Ping’an walked out of the room and sat on a small stool under the eaves, took down his wine gourd, and shook it, but didn’t drink.

After taking off the golden-thread jade gown, Chen Ping’an emanated a heavy bloody scent. The desperate battle with Ding Ying had left him seriously injured. Precisely because of this, so much spiritual energy had poured in like a tidal wave, creating an opportunity for it to flood into Chen Ping’an’s various qi reservoirs and acupoints. At this time, those spiritual energies were entrenched in the numerous cave-mansions, like a group of separatist forces. Because they didn’t involve the previous pure martial artist’s qi circulation path, these qi reservoir cities were like lands beyond the borders, forming a “separatist” pattern, numerous but scattered, not connected, so they were inconsequential.

Chen Ping’an didn’t know if this was good or bad, but for the time being, there was really no way to solve it.

How to build that Longevity Bridge, and how to leave this world, were the immediate priorities.

This Guan Dao Temple was not a real Daoist temple, but rather, wherever the old Daoist walked in the human world, the temple was there. This left Chen Ping’an dumbfounded.

Why hadn’t the old sword immortal who lived in a thatched hut on the Sword Qi Great Wall mentioned this earlier?

But looking back, when he first entered the capital of Nanyuan, he was constantly bumping around like a headless fly. After feeling agitated and frustrated, he simply calmed down and strolled around, which was a very different feeling. He had seen the various aspects of the common people’s lives, seemingly idle, but it reminded Chen Ping’an of his early apprenticeship. The money he earned at the dragon kiln wasn’t enough to spend lavishly, but it was enough to support himself and avoid starvation. So, after having enough to eat, Chen Ping’an felt this way every time he followed Grandpa Yao into the mountains to collect soil. Even though he was exposed to the wind and rain, the mountain roads were difficult, and he was exhausted every day, his heart wasn’t tired, and he could fall asleep as soon as he lay down.

From the first time Chen Ping’an left Longquan, escorting Li Baoping and the others to study in Da Sui, to inexplicably entering this world.

How many peaceful sleeps had he had?

Chen Ping’an would get up every now and then to check on the lotus infant’s condition. Although progress was slow, it was healing little by little in a positive direction, which finally put him at ease.

Those life-and-death partings so close at hand, were not something that could be solved by drowning his sorrows in alcohol. A person would always sober up.

He could rest assured inside the house, but what about outside?

Chen Ping’an bent over and sat on the small stool, waiting for the child named Cao Qinglang to come home.

From now on, the house in this nameless alley was no different from the small house in Nibottle Alley.

Chen Ping’an stood up. In the twilight, a child walked into the alley. The courtyard door was not closed. After he saw Chen Ping’an, his expression was wooden. He lowered his head. Cao Qinglang was silent and indifferent, walking into his own room.

Chen Ping’an wanted to say something, but in the end, he didn’t say anything, and sat back on the stool, sitting there until late at night. During the Great Heat season, even at night, the gentle breeze on his face wasn’t that cool. When Chen Ping’an went to check on the little lotus infant, he inadvertently saw a roughly made cattail fan and took it out of the house.

In the second half of the night, the watchman’s clapper sounded in the distance.

Cao Qinglang walked out of the room, carrying a small stool and sat next to Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an handed him the cattail fan. Cao Qinglang hesitated for a moment, but still took it.

After a moment of silence, Chen Ping’an said softly, “I’m sorry.”

From beginning to end, the child didn’t say anything, didn’t blame Chen Ping’an, and didn’t say he didn’t blame him, just lowered his head and sobbed.
The next day, Cao Qinglang rose late. The sound of his morning recitations was absent. Chen Ping’an went to the schoolhouse, intending to explain Cao Qinglang’s absence. However, the road was deserted, and upon reaching the schoolhouse, he found it closed, unable to even see the teacher.

However, Chen Ping’an noticed the absence of any spies from the Southern Garden Kingdom in the vicinity.

He surmised that this was likely the intention of the National Preceptor, Zhong Qiu.

In the following two days, families furtively moved away from the neighborhood. The brothels and taverns of Scholar Lane became desolate overnight, with barely a customer in sight.

That evening, as dusk settled, Chen Ping’an carried a stool and sat at the corner of the street. Normally, a Go stall would be set up here, where two inept players would engage in a fierce battle of wits, with countless other mediocre players offering terrible advice.

The street remained scarred and ravaged, a disheartening sight.

Chen Ping’an stood up. Zhong Qiu had arrived.

Zhong Qiu and Chen Ping’an strolled along the street. Zhong Qiu looked weary, but smiled and said, “The capital’s markets have been secretly placed under martial law. All sorts of rumors have been suppressed. His Majesty the Emperor and His Highness the Crown Prince are both curious about you and wish to meet you, but I have dissuaded them. However, if you are willing, you can enter the palace or visit my residence at any time to relax.”

Chen Ping’an nodded in agreement.

Zhong Qiu, clad in a green robe with slightly greying temples, appeared weathered after only a few days. Clearly, the National Preceptor was under considerable stress. He continued, “Yu Zhenyi is building a small hut at the ruins of Cow Mountain, intending to cultivate in seclusion. His Majesty has demanded that Yu Zhenyi either relocate the Lakeside Sect to the territory of the Southern Garden Kingdom or face military expulsion. Yu Zhenyi has refused. I urged His Majesty to wait, but he has declined. Troops have already been mobilized, and soon over ten thousand elite soldiers will surround the Cow Mountain area.”

Chen Ping’an considered this and asked, “What about that Fan Wan’er from Mirror Heart Hermitage?”

Zhong Qiu first explained Fan Wan’er’s background to Chen Ping’an, then said with a helpless tone, “I suspect His Majesty met her in private, which led to this determination. He believes that with her overseeing the situation, coupled with the Northern Jin General Tang Tieyi remaining in the capital, and of course, with my presence, Zhong Qiu, the situation couldn’t possibly deteriorate too much.”

Speaking of this, Zhong Qiu stood at the edge of a gully, the very spot where Chen Ping’an had once channeled the power of the Great Dragon with his peak boxing stance, controlling the wind and blasting him away with a single punch. He smiled, “His Majesty has repeatedly probed me, inquiring about your disposition and origins. I couldn’t deceive him, nor did I want to drag you into these worldly conflicts. I only said that you would neither support the Southern Garden Kingdom nor assist Yu Zhenyi. You are a wandering crane, only found in the deep clouds, unwilling to associate with common fowl, let alone compete with them for food.”

Chen Ping’an clasped his hands in gratitude.

Zhong Qiu waved his hand, “If it were me, I would be even more troubled.”

Chen Ping’an uncorked his wine gourd and took a sip.

Zhong Qiu recalled something, “The tragedy that befell the family at your residence was personally handled by me. The court has arrested many remnants of the demonic cult. It has been confirmed that Ding Ying ordered the attack, likely to force the Flowery Gentleman of Spring Tide Palace, Zhou Shi, to engage you early on, leaving him no choice but to involve Lu Fang and Zhou Fei. Moreover, according to Cao Qinglang’s testimony at the yamen, Ding Ying’s actions were not primarily related to you, but because Ding Ying mistakenly believed that Cao Qinglang was related to Tong Qingqing of Mirror Heart Hermitage.”

Chen Ping’an grunted in acknowledgment.

Chen Ping’an suddenly asked, “Where exactly is this place?”

Zhong Qiu was taken aback, his face filled with confusion.

Chen Ping’an pointed to the sword on his back, Changqi, and explained, “I stumbled in here while carrying this sword. I wandered around for a long time, not realizing that I was already inside.”

Zhong Qiu smiled and shared some historical records about the Lotus Root Paradise and the Fallen Immortals.

Chen Ping’an finally understood.

The old Daoist had only told him half the truth. Guandao Temple did not actually exist, but in fact, the entire Lotus Root Paradise could be said to be the old Daoist’s “Place for Observing the Dao.”

Initially, the anomaly Chen Ping’an noticed was the existence of two Northern Jin Kingdoms within a single continent. He knew that he found the lotus seed person in a Northern Jin temple. At first, Chen Ping’an thought it might be due to the differences in customs between Tongye Continent and Treasure Bottle Continent. He even went to the bookstore in Scholar Lane to read many unofficial histories and literary notes. The more he read, the stranger it seemed. Still unwilling to give up, he went to a private library that obviously belonged to a wealthy family, hoping to determine the specific location of the Southern Garden Kingdom in Tongye Continent through official histories. However, it remained shrouded in mystery, with the books consistently only mentioning the histories of the four kingdoms.

Later, the scandal at White River Temple was exposed, and the four Grandmasters of Cow Mountain gathered. Chen Ping’an found it even more unbelievable that they all liked to use the word “world,” Nation Preceptor Zhong Qiu was the “world’s” number one player, the Southern Garden was the “world’s” strongest kingdom, Dong Qingqing of Mirror Heart Pavilion was the “world’s” most beautiful woman, and so on. There were too many to list.

Later, on the night of White River Temple, Ding Ying and Zhou Shi snuck into the main hall together, searching for that Arhat Golden Body.

Before this, Chen Ping’an had an old monk from Heart Image Temple by his side, and he also encountered the figure in the green dress who loved to dance in the moonlight shortly after entering this capital city. Therefore, Chen Ping’an did not think too deeply about it. He simply considered it a “forbidden land” obstructed by its environment, like the warrior-strong Shushui Kingdom on Treasure Bottle Continent, ruled by the old Sword Saint Song Yushao.

Now, upon careful consideration, Chen Ping’an felt a chill run down his spine.

It was like taking a single glance into that well.

Although he knew he was in Lotus Root Paradise, he was still baffled as to how he entered and when he entered.

As long as the old Daoist did not appear, Chen Ping’an would never know the answer.

Zhong Qiu, as the National Preceptor, had to make countless decisions after a great battle that had altered the world’s landscape. His visit to Chen Ping’an today was partly to prevent misunderstandings and partly driven by a personal desire to relax and vent. Therefore, after discussing what needed to be discussed, Zhong Qiu took his leave.

As they parted, Chen Ping’an said apologetically, “I cannot leave Lotus Root Paradise for the time being.”

Zhong Qiu smiled and said, “It doesn’t matter, because you, Chen Ping’an, don’t seem like a Fallen Immortal anyway.”

After Zhong Qiu left, he walked alone on the desolate street, his expression gloomy.

If he and Yu Zhenyi had encountered Chen Ping’an as the first Fallen Immortal, would the outcome be different today?
Chen Ping’an picked up the small stool and walked into the dim alley.

Suddenly, Chen Ping’an narrowed his eyes.

A scrawny little girl was standing outside the courtyard gate.

She subconsciously took a step back, raised her head, and carefully scrutinized the man’s face. All the excuses she had prepared vanished, and she couldn’t utter a single word.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Where are the books?”

The little girl blinked, shaking her head vigorously. “I don’t know.”

Seemingly afraid that Chen Ping’an wouldn’t believe her, she looked aggrieved. “You fought those bad guys so fiercely a few days ago, and that man and woman came out of the alley and went onto the street. How could I dare to come back to the alley? I just sat on the stool obediently. Later, when I couldn’t see you and couldn’t wait for you, I was afraid the bad guys would find me, so I ran away.”

Chen Ping’an waved his hand, signaling her to leave, not wanting to see this cunning little girl anymore.

The little girl pleaded pitifully, “Please, let me finish my meal before I go, okay?”

So she had smelled the aroma of food.

Chen Ping’an ignored her and bolted the courtyard gate after entering. It turned out that Cao Qinglang had prepared a dinner. The child was clever and filial. Although he had never cooked before, he had seen his mother cooking many times. Now that he was doing it himself, the food wouldn’t be delicious, but it was edible.

For the past two days, Cao Qinglang had been cooking for himself.

Chen Ping’an never intruded. Usually, when Cao Qinglang went to the kitchen, he would take the initiative to leave the courtyard. It was the same today.

In the past, when he returned, the child would have already eaten, cleaned the table, and returned to his room. Occasionally, Cao Qinglang would come out and sit for a while in the evening to cool off. But today was different. Cao Qinglang was sitting at the table, eating very slowly, and there was an extra set of bowls and chopsticks placed across from him.

Chen Ping’an quietly entered the house, sat down, and chewed slowly, without making any noise.

There was a plop in the courtyard.

The scrawny little girl stood up, brushed off the dust from her body, and tiptoed to the outside of the house. Not daring to enter, she squatted there, craning her neck to look at the food on the table.

Cao Qinglang thought for a moment, then went to the kitchen to get her a bowl of rice, walked over to her, and handed her the bowl and chopsticks together. “Eat with us.”

Chen Ping’an put down his chopsticks and looked at her.

She was on the verge of tears, putting down the bowl and chopsticks, and remained motionless.

Cao Qinglang said helplessly, “It’s okay, eat.”

She still stared unblinkingly at Chen Ping’an. Chen Ping’an picked up his chopsticks, not wanting to look at her.

Only then did she start to bow her head and shovel rice into her mouth, occasionally picking up a chopstick of vegetables from the dish, like a thief.

The three of them finished eating around the same time. Cao Qinglang got up to clear the table. The little girl glanced at Chen Ping’an, pretending to help Cao Qinglang clean up.

The two peers, carrying bowls and plates together, returned to the kitchen. She glanced at the courtyard, and the guy wasn’t there, so she lowered her voice and complained, “No oil, and so salty, can you even cook?! You’re so old, can’t you be a little more capable?”

Cao Qinglang was speechless. Seeing her unrelenting appearance, he had no choice but to say, “I’ll pay attention next time.”

As a result, Chen Ping’an suddenly appeared at the kitchen door. The scrawny little girl immediately shut up, about to turn her head and deny it, pretending she hadn’t seen Chen Ping’an, but she had already seen him beckoning, and his eyes were sharp.

She had no choice but to hang her head and walk out, being lifted by Chen Ping’an by the collar, like a chick. He opened the door with one hand and placed her outside, before dropping a sentence before closing the door, “If you dare to climb the wall again, I’ll throw you outside the capital.”

That night, Chen Ping’an kept his eyes closed to rest his mind. Cao Qinglang came out to cool off not long after, and heard a cough outside the courtyard gate.

He went over to open the door and saw her squatting on the ground, looking up, arms crossed, smiling. “Don’t worry about me, it’s cooler in the alley outside.”

Cao Qinglang scratched his head with both hands. He was really afraid of this guy.

Chen Ping’an raised his head, frowning. On a distant rooftop, the moonlight was bright. There was a man with a saber hanging from his waist, wearing a black robe, with a scholarly air. He held a pot of wine in one hand and smiled at Chen Ping’an. Seeing that Chen Ping’an didn’t speak, he tapped his toes and floated towards Chen Ping’an’s residence.

Taking advantage of the fact that Cao Qinglang was still outside the door, Chen Ping’an delivered a punch, perfectly natural.

That dignified Great General of the Northern Jin Dynasty, Tang Tieyi, was silently struck in the chest by a fist aura and flew backward, landing back on the original rooftop.

The force of the fist aura was exquisite to the pinnacle. Tang Tieyi himself was one of the few grandmasters in the world, not injured, but in an extremely embarrassing state.

But Tang Tieyi not only did not become angry and ashamed, but smiled apologetically at Chen Ping’an, as if to say sorry for the disturbance, feeling guilty for his uninvited arrival. Tang Tieyi, who wore a Refiner’s waist pendant, turned and left in a flash.

Chen Ping’an didn’t have a deep impression of this person and didn’t want to have too much contact.

Chen Ping’an thought for a while and told Cao Qinglang not to wait for him to come back. He walked out of the alley and headed towards Zhuangyuan Alley.

It just so happened that there was no wine left in the Sword Nurturing Gourd, so going out would be good.

Late at night, inside a deserted restaurant in Zhuangyuan Alley, colorful lanterns were still hanging high, and there was only one table of guests.

It could be considered a family banquet, because the cooks were all brought from home by the guests themselves.

Three men and three women.

Not only this restaurant, but the entire Zhuangyuan Alley was heavily guarded. In addition to the soldiers in armor standing guard every three steps, there were many hidden experts stationed there. Unless it was a grandmaster from the Top Ten Rankings, probably no one could even get close to these people to carry out an assassination.

These six people were Emperor Wei Liang of the Southern Yuan Kingdom, Empress Zhou Shuzhen, Crown Prince Wei Yan, as well as the Second Prince and the youngest Princess.

Then there was the Taiping Mountain Daoist nun, Huang Ting, who had changed into a simple Daoist robe, as well as Fan Wan’er and Tong Qingqing from the former Mirror Heart Monastery.

Princess Wei Zhen inherited the appearance of her parents and was a rare beauty, but she still felt inferior when she was next to that Daoist nun. Originally quite lively, she didn’t dare to speak much tonight, and kept close to her mother Zhou Shuzhen. She especially admired this Daoist nun, who was as beautiful as an immortal, and could act even more… Jianghu-like in front of her father than the National Preceptor Zhong!

Over the years, she had treasured many forbidden books, all kinds of strange tales and romances that her two brothers had collected from the market bookstores after she begged them.
What is Jianghu? The Jianghu she yearned for was a pair of celestial-like chivalrous lovers infiltrating the lair of a villain feared throughout the martial world on a dark and windy night. By the time the sky paled with dawn, the bandit chieftains and demonic heads would be vanquished, and the couple would exchange a smile before riding off into the sunset, continuing their adventures.

Emperor Wei Liang smiled and asked, “With Yu Zhenyi on the outside and Chen Pingan on the inside, is everything truly alright?”

Huang Ting’s reply was less than courteous: “In truth, both of them are within the capital and pose no threat. One is exceptionally steadfast in his pursuit of Dao, and the other simply doesn’t deign to pay you any heed. It’s just that you emperors are fond of the saying ‘I will not allow others to snore beside my bed.’ Your unease is understandable, and since I also dislike Yu Zhenyi, I might as well have a straightforward fight with him.”

Huang Ting’s words grew even more unrestrained: “I promise to exert my full strength in battling Yu Zhenyi. After that, if I lose and the so-called elite army of the Nanyuan Kingdom fails to restrain Yu Zhenyi, and he ends up storming the palace and slaying your entire family, I can only strive to avenge you before my ascension.”

Wei Liang shook his head with a wry smile, seeking solace in wine.

The most awkward of all was perhaps Empress Zhou Shuzhen, whose junior sister had become her master, and then transformed into Huang Ting of Mount Taiping.

The most crestfallen was likely Crown Prince Wei Yan.

The Fan Wan’er he had admired was lost forever. Even though the Daoist nun before him possessed even more captivating beauty than Fan Wan’er, Wei Yan found himself unable to feel affection for her.

The most uneasy was the Second Prince, who bore a striking resemblance to Wei Yan. From the Supreme Master of the Demonic Cult, Ding Ying, to Ya’er, and a host of experts lurking within the capital, they had been rounded up in one fell swoop by State Preceptor Zhong Guo in conjunction with the Mirror Heart Hermitage fairy and the court retainers, and imprisoned. The three factions of the Demonic Cult were all inextricably linked to him, this scion of the Wei imperial line.

The Second Prince found the meal bland and tasteless.

He envied his younger sister’s carefree nature and was jealous of Crown Prince Wei Yan’s abundant blessings.

Who could have imagined that the invincible old demon, Ding Ying, would be slaughtered?

That little vixen Ya’er had once confidently told him, “Even if you die of old age, my grand-master might not.”

A strange commotion arose outside the restaurant.

Huang Ting smiled: “A distinguished guest has arrived.”

Emperor Wei Liang immediately looked out the window, his expression tense. He regretted not summoning State Preceptor Zhong Qiu, considering the state preceptor enjoyed a good relationship with that man.

However, after waiting for some time, he realized that the man had appeared at the staircase, having respectfully entered through the restaurant’s front door and walked up the stairs.

The young immortal, Chen Pingan, was not wearing his conspicuous white robe, but rather the ordinary garb of a prosperous family from the Nanyuan Kingdom.

Wei Liang steadied his nerves and stood up.

With the emperor rising to greet the guest, Zhou Shuzhen and the three members of the imperial family hastily followed suit.

Huang Ting did not put on airs, but neither was she overly solicitous. She stood up but walked over to the window, as if distancing herself from the situation, leaving the local overlord and the outsider to sort things out themselves, without taking sides.

Wei Liang laughed heartily: “Our Wei family has been remiss in its hospitality, causing such a commotion. May Immortal Chen forgive us.”

Chen Pingan shook his head: “Your Majesty need not be concerned with these matters. This incident has little to do with the Nanyuan Kingdom.”

Emperor Wei Liang was uncertain, worried that the words held a deeper meaning that he had failed to grasp.

Chen Pingan continued, “I came here because I thought that since Your Majesty is here in person, I might as well speak frankly. The Nanyuan Kingdom can pretend that I don’t exist. Rest assured, if Ding Ying and Yu Zhenyi hadn’t taken the initiative to seek me out, this conflict might have never involved me, Chen Pingan, in the first place.”

Wei Liang smiled and nodded in agreement, “Immortal Chen is a celestial being from the mountains and naturally disinclined to meddle in earthly affairs.”

Chen Pingan suddenly smiled as well: “Your Nanyuan Kingdom’s capital has a fine landscape, especially one particular dish, which is very good. Before I leave the capital, I will certainly go and eat it one more time.”

The emperor asked curiously: “Might I ask, Immortal Master, what dish and where? I can…”

But halfway through his sentence, Wei Liang stopped himself, raised his wine cup, and drained it in one gulp: “Immortal Chen has just set down rules, and I have already broken them. I must punish myself with a cup.”

Chen Pingan removed his wine gourd: “I might also have to trouble Your Majesty to send me two jars of wine.”

Wei Liang laughed heartily, “Immortal Chen, you are too easily satisfied for such a distinguished guest!”

The emperor told a joke, and Empress Zhou Shuzhen, the two princes, and the young princess all immediately laughed along.

Chen Pingan, slightly late to the uptake, smiled as well, lest he appear too aloof.

The Daoist Huang Ting, though facing the window, had the corners of her mouth turned upwards.

Chen Pingan filled his gourd and left the restaurant, not returning to his lodgings in the alley, but following his memory to the night market near White River Temple, where he ate a large bowl of that numbing, spicy, and scalding stuff.

Without eating spicy food, without drinking wine, without eating the spiciest hotpot with strong liquor, what joy is there in life?

These were the words of the old Sword Saint of Shuishui Kingdom.

He hadn’t thought much of it before, but now, amidst the bustling crowds of the night market, Chen Pingan felt that the old senior’s words truly rang true.

Chen Pingan paid the bill and left the lively night market, walking slowly. In a quiet, deserted spot, he leaped onto a rooftop and went to the deep courtyard of a certain official’s residence, to his private library. This time, he wasn’t searching for information on the history and geography of “this world,” but rather for books on bridge construction. Unfortunately, his search proved fruitless, so he set his sights on the books and archives of the Ministry of Works. After some deliberation, he thought that he could perhaps mention it to Zhong Qiu and ask the state preceptor to help him with this favor, which shouldn’t be too difficult.

He also needed to ask Zhong Qiu for news of a certain scholar.

After leaving the library,

Chen Pingan finally stopped on the roof of a tall building, sat down, and drank wine. In the end, he raised his middle finger to the sky.

There was no thunder.

Chen Pingan put away his wine gourd and gazed blankly into the distance, lost in thought.

Between leaving the Sun Terrace of Eagle Fort and entering the Nanyuan Kingdom, he had encountered a paper-figure town.

The abbot of Heart Appearance Temple had repeatedly said one sentence: “You look at it, and it also looks at you.”
That woman, still bearing the name Fan Wan’er back then, had stared intently at him twice, once at White River Temple and again at the night market. Her gaze held a hint of familiarity, yet she never spoke. It wasn’t unwillingness, but rather, inability.

A chilling realization crept into his mind as he pondered it.

Chen Ping’an sighed.

The lamps of the mortal realm, the stars in the heavens.

Someone had once said that the latter might be the corpses of countless deities.

Who was it that said that? Chen Ping’an patted his head, unable to recall. He hadn’t actually drunk much tonight, yet he felt unusually intoxicated.

Chen Ping’an leaned back and fell into a deep slumber, snoring softly.

An old Taoist stood atop a upturned eave, glancing down at the sleeping young banished immortal.

Recalling a scene he had witnessed earlier, the old Taoist twitched his lips.

In the courtyard, the young man had been whispering “I’m sorry” to a child, his face streaked with tears.

The old Taoist murmured to himself, “In your eyes, are there no small matters in the mortal world?”