(Ten Thousand Word Chapter)

A petite woman clad in the resplendent robes of an imperial decree materialized on the banks of the Buried River, her movements deliberate and unhurried.

With the rapid ascension of her cultivation realm, the Buried River Water Goddess’s dominion over the waterways on both banks became increasingly adept. This was akin to a general expanding his territory; wherever his horse’s hooves trod, that was his domain.

The Buried River was inherently a grand river that nearly traversed the entirety of the Great Spring Dynasty from east to west. Previously, she had barely managed to maintain the Buried River’s authority with a weapon she had refined. She had already found it quite taxing to face a river demon whose cultivation hadn’t even reached the Golden Core Realm. If she were to rashly elevate the Azure Ripple Residence to Azure Ripple Palace, yet the Great Spring Dynasty was unwilling to allocate a portion of its national fortune for the Astronomical Observatory’s cultivators to bring and place within the Water God Temple…

This was also one of the reasons the Water Goddess was unwilling to agree. Once the residence’s plaque was changed to Azure Ripple Palace, jealousy and covetous eyes would come from all directions. Who knew, one day, both the palace and residence plaques might be used as firewood by someone.

It was true that she was naturally forthright and quick-tempered, but she had been stationed in the Buried River for centuries, firmly grasping opportunity after opportunity. Naturally, she was no fool.

She crouched down, cupping a handful of water from the Buried River. Under the moonlight, the river water in her palm rippled slightly. Compared to the past, it was brimming with spiritual energy.

Before rushing to the post station, a great deal of incense essence that the Water God Temples couldn’t withstand flowed backward, pouring into the ancestral temples. The original silvery-white incense essence had actually turned a light golden color, wisp by wisp, drifting toward the clay statue within the main hall. This golden body was not some artisan’s gilding technique, but rather the foundation of a mountain and river deity’s divine path, a manifestation of the Great Dao. These dense, light golden wisps of incense slowly permeated the golden statue on the altar. In the divine path, this was known as “gilding.” Only two situations would cause such a phenomenon: one was when Astronomical Observatory cultivators, bearing the emperor’s decree, acted upon orders, using an imperial brush dipped in gold to paint a deity’s golden body, which was mostly a “point of guidance” several times over; the other was when a Confucian sage “pointed out the landscape” to the golden body, and these Confucian sages were definitely at least the mountain masters of the Seventy-Two Academies.

The Buried River Water God Temple had inexplicably gained such great fortune, and the Azure Ripple Residence was even experiencing a surge in water transport, with auspicious clouds gathering like a canopy.

It could almost be considered a blessed land for cultivation.

This was regarded as official recognition!

Truly recognized by the orthodox Hao Ran world!

No matter how carefree the River Goddess was, she knew that this unexpected great favor was no less significant than the first time Master Chen had imparted knowledge.

The reason she jokingly suggested offering herself in marriage at the post station was simply because she didn’t know how else to repay the debt.

The jade slip itself was actually the so-called treasure of the Azure Ripple Residence.

In ancient times, the Buried River had once been the main trunk of one of the three great rivers flowing into the sea in Willow Leaf Continent. Afterward, due to the shifting sands of time, changes in river courses, sedimentation, blockages, and various other events, the scale of that great river gradually diminished, ultimately leaving only a section, which was the Buried River. The predecessor of the Azure Ripple Residence was the ruins of a “River Dragon Palace,” and that jade slip was the treasure she had found in the dilapidated Dragon Palace. It had remained unchanged for ten thousand years, solidified from the essence of river water and a tangible representation of a region’s water transport, further refined into a jade slip by the Old Dragon King. Presumably, in the distant years when the Dragon Palace still stood, this jade slip was also a cherished possession that the Dragon King couldn’t bear to part with.

The fact that she wanted Chen Ping’an to destroy the jade slip immediately after memorizing the immortal’s secret art was actually due to a bit of playful teasing.

Unless Chen Ping’an was a celestial immortal of the Upper Five Realms, he wouldn’t have the ability to destroy the jade slip.

However, if he refined it into his natal object, and since he possessed that secret art of “instant ascension to immortality,” she believed that as long as Chen Ping’an put his heart into it, the prospects were promising.

She stepped into the Buried River, walking on the water’s surface like a goddess from strange tales.

The only flaw was that the river demon had definitely colluded with a nearby mountain god, landing ashore and hiding within a mountain’s fortune somewhere, leaving no trace.

The Water Goddess leaned back, falling straight down, lying on the surface of the Buried River, drifting downstream with the current.

Drowned water ghosts in the river followed this Water Goddess in a mighty procession along the riverbed, drifting toward the Water God Temple.

She suddenly covered her face, looking bashful as if she was too ashamed to face anyone. “How could a young maiden say such embarrassing things?”

Fortunately, she quickly regained her fighting spirit. She sat up, cheering, “Quickly get someone to go to Mirage City to hire artisans to remodel the divine statue! People rely on clothing, gods rely on golden adornment! The curves on the chest of the divine statue can be exaggerated, and the legs can be longer!”

Some water ghosts wandering at the bottom of the river who had gained sentience truly gained new insights. The world actually had such… an interesting Water Goddess.

The Yao family’s northward journey encountered many funny and exasperating events.

A somewhat famous martial arts hero, carrying a refined iron Eight Treasure Exquisite Spear, came seeking fame, saying he wanted to learn from the Yao family’s spear technique that had shook the borderlands.

This person called upon friends and companions, a dozen riders arriving with a whoosh, stopping together on the official road. He sat high on horseback, shaking a fancy spear flourish. It couldn’t be said that he had shoddy skills. As a second- or third-rate martial artist, he had a decade or so of honing, but this type of martial arts sparring was of course not on the same level as the Yao family’s iron spear, which could determine life and death in an instant.

Yao Zhen was sitting in the carriage at the time, reading military books, only finding it amusing. He didn’t want to bother with this group of martial arts heroes who were desperate to become famous. With a command from Yao Jinzhi, the Yao family’s cavalrymen silently drew their light crossbows, scaring the group so much that they immediately fled the official road. After the Yao family’s team had gone far away, they chattered endlessly, complaining that the Yao family’s iron cavalry was a showy pillow, with a mere reputation, not even having the confidence to come down and compare spear skills.

As a result, the group was arrested and brought to justice by the state city government that day. The unfortunate brothers ate a solid meal of prison food.

Later, there was also a rogue cultivator of the Lower Five Realms, not very old, in his early twenties, trying to become a military chaplain for the Yao family, but he didn’t dare to act rashly. He clearly stated his general background and appropriately flattered his immortal magic, squatting outside the inn, gnawing on dry biscuits and drinking inferior wine, waiting for instructions. Yao Zhen had someone send him a hundred taels of silver. The rogue cultivator flushed red, but still accepted the silver before leaving.

As they got closer and closer to Mirage City, the news that Yao Zhen was about to take office as the Minister of War spread throughout the court and the countryside.

Then, another down-on-his-luck military cultivator, in the prime of his life and burly, blocked the way, declaring that as long as someone from the Yao family could beat him, he would immediately scram. Then Shao Yuanran showed off a move, and he scrambled.
What truly piqued the Yao family’s curiosity were the two bizarre events: a mountain deity wading into water and a water deity ascending a mountain.

However, these two deities were far from the rank of the River God who presided over the Burial River, being mere local spirits of the lowest order. The mountain deity governed a hundred li radius, while the water deity oversaw a two-hundred-li stretch of river. Their domains bordered each other, and their relationship was less than harmonious, often marked by friction. In the past, this had only amounted to minor squabbles, with insults exchanged across the mountain and river boundaries. Recently, though, a generous benefactor had switched their patronage, moving from the mountain deity’s temple to the water deity’s shrine. This shift meant a loss of tens of thousands of taels of silver annually, a sum that would no longer line the mountain deity’s pockets. In response, the petty mountain deity had dispatched a local earth spirit under his command to secretly persuade the benefactor to return. Unexpectedly, the River Earl caught the earth spirit in the act and thoroughly humiliated him. Enraged, the mountain deity directly crossed the river, wielding two massive axes and stirring up towering waves for miles, terrifying the common folk. The River Earl, unwilling to lose face, marshaled the river waters, flowing against its current and surging up the mountain, directly assaulting the mountain deity’s temple.

The Yao family’s caravan happened to be passing near the riverbank at the time. Two enshrined cultivators and the Yao family’s accompanying cultivators protected Yao Zhen and the three Yaos as they went to witness the spectacle.

Chen Pingan followed among the group, with only Pei Qian and Zhu Lian by his side.

Thus, they witnessed the River Earl’s rampage at the mountain deity’s temple.

The two sides engaged in a fierce battle, the mountain deity benefiting from the terrain, driving the River Earl back into the water. The River Earl, in turn, rallied the turbid river waters, fighting with renewed vigor.

Back and forth they went, each displaying their supernatural abilities. A beautiful mountain peak was ravaged by the floodwaters, with countless towering trees snapped and toppled.

Outside the battlefield, the mountain’s earth spirit and mountain goblins, and the riverbank’s shrimp soldiers, crab generals, and water ghost servants, waved banners and shouted themselves hoarse. They seemed even more exhausted than those on the front lines, and were fiercely competing with each other. A large red drum was set up on the riverbank, used to bolster the River Earl’s morale, its thunderous sound reverberating, while on the mountain, they hurriedly erected a banner several zhang tall, waving it vigorously, causing it to flutter loudly.

Shao Yuanran stood beside Yao Jinzhi, explaining the inner workings of the mountain and water deities to her with witty remarks. The younger Yao Lingzhi listened with rapt attention, but the thoughts of her veiled sister, Yao Jinzhi, remained unknown.

Pei Qian was busy picking up the leaping river fish on the shore, finding it far easier than fishing herself.

This farce was interrupted by a city god of the state city with a livid face, who arrived riding the wind, hovering in the air, and scolding the two deities mercilessly.

This city god wore official robes specially made by the Great Spring Ministry of Rites, with insignia identical to those of officials in the mortal realm, indicating their rank through specific patterns. However, the city god’s robes were invariably black, signifying their role as the human sovereign’s representative in the underworld, restraining the many ghosts and specters that emerged at night. Compared to the countless unlicensed shrines scattered throughout the world, city gods required imperial decree and rarely existed in “unjustified” positions. Any ruling family could easily control city gods, who had to be rooted in cities, and city gods were naturally loyal to the imperial court.

Chen Pingan watched the commotion of this mountain and river realm, his heart calm.

Compared to his experiences in Dragon Spring Town and his two journeys, the scenes before him were merely minor squabbles. He found them not so much laughable, but it was difficult to recapture the feeling of first climbing his hometown’s Piyun Mountain and first seeing the magnificent rivers.

Zhu Lian stood beside Chen Pingan. Among the four bodyguards, the Yao family had a deep impression of this man, because compared to the others, this stooped old man looked every bit the part of a servant. They had also heard about the performance of the four during the inn battle, vaguely knowing that the stunning sword-bearer was a swordmaster, the dignified Mr. Lu was a saber master, and the taciturn Wei Xian had single-handedly blocked the imperial family’s qi refiners’ group attack. However, this kindly old man was the most ruthless, and at the end of the battle, the ground around where the old man stood was littered with broken limbs and corpses.

Zhu Lian did not look at Chen Pingan.

Often, the heart did not need to be seen with the eyes.

Zhu Lian grew increasingly curious about that Dragon Spring County, and the Lvzhu Grotto-Heaven that predated it. How could such a place of hidden dragons and crouching tigers allow a young man like Chen Pingan to seem as if he had seen the great storms of the world early on, making it difficult for his heart to have emotional waves?

So young, yet so serene.

Inevitably, there was a hint of world-weariness and cunning.

But Zhu Lian did not think so. Chen Pingan, with his constant goodwill towards others, gave him a vague feeling, like a vicious dragon lurking deep within the depths of that serene well, its shadow faintly visible.

However, this unknown dragon was probably firmly bound at the bottom of the well by etiquette, rules, and the distinction between good and evil. Even wanting to emerge from the water and peek its head out was impossible.

Zhu Lian dared not speculate further, only certain of one thing: deep within Chen Pingan’s heart, there must be one or two extremely strong obsessions that he could not let go of.

This time, the city god had to travel hundreds of miles to mediate this quarrel, exhausting his mind and energy, leaving him in a foul mood. He wished he could stomp the River Earl’s temple and the mountain deity’s temple flat with a single kick each.

The matter of the mountain and water deities overstepping their boundaries was extremely sensitive. If someone were to report it to the Ministry of Rites in the capital, this city god, sitting at home and suffering misfortune from the sky, would fare no better than those two ignorant fools.

The city god dismissed the two trembling bastards and watched the Yao family’s group by the riverbank. Using the art of observing qi, he glanced at them and felt a piercing sensation, his heart shaken. He immediately wanted to descend and investigate, but those people were so arrogant and unruly that two cultivators directly drew their swords, declaring that no one could approach, or they would be considered assassins. The city god was so angry that he almost summoned his two subordinate gods back, but fortunately, he had cultivated his composure for hundreds of years by enjoying incense offerings. In the end, he only firmly remembered those unfamiliar faces, returning to the state city with a gloomy expression.

On the way back to the main group, Yao Zhen came to Yao Jinzhi and asked softly, “Why so unfriendly?”

Yao Jinzhi said helplessly, “The official receptions and social gatherings along the way are inevitable, but if it involves city gods and deities, things can become unclear. Grandpa wouldn’t want us to be impeached by the Six Offices before even entering Mirage City, would he? Even if His Majesty treats it as a joke, a storm of rumors and gossip is bound to arise in the capital, from the officialdom to the marketplace. Who doesn’t love a spectacle in this world? Aren’t we here to see a spectacle ourselves? Do we care about the rights and wrongs of those two mountain deities and river earls?”

Yao Zhen understood immediately, agreeing wholeheartedly.
The old general sighed in his heart. If Yao Jinzhi were a son, leaving her at the border would bring him peace of mind.

Pei Qian gathered a large pile of river fish, but Chen Ping’an refused to accept them. Helpless, she grabbed the fish by their tails and vigorously flung them back into the river, sweating profusely from the effort.

Arriving at Crane-Riding City, a city that was both a prefecture and a commandery, meant they were practically at the doorstep of the Great Spring Capital.

This commandery city had a long history, its name originating from the legend of a high-ranking Daoist who ascended to the heavens on a crane here, achieving great renown. Within the commandery was a small, unremarkable mountain, made famous solely by being the place of the immortal’s ascension. Countless literati and poets visited each year, and the surrounding area was filled with mansions purchased and built by influential figures from the capital, making the land incredibly valuable.

The former City God should be within this city, but Yao Zhen had no reason to fear a mere prefecture City God.

The Minister of Rites, who controlled the promotion and demotion of City Gods throughout the nation, held a similar rank and salary to him. Furthermore, the Great Spring valued martial prowess, and the Minister of War was not a mere ceremonial position, otherwise it wouldn’t be the top choice for retired generals.

They still lodged at the official post-house, as dictated by court regulations. The post-house within the city was expansive, rivaling even the residences of princes. To welcome Yao Zhen, trusted aides from both the Governor’s and Commandant’s offices had made numerous trips to the post-house, practically emptying it out.

Since things had come to this, Yao Zhen could only accept the gesture, pretending not to know anything. Clear water has no fish, and the same was especially true of officialdom.

Generally speaking, the imperial court could tolerate loyal officials, treacherous ministers, capable administrators, incompetent officials, and many fence-sitters, but it could not tolerate someone who resembled a moral paragon.

It would be like a demon-revealing mirror hung high above the court, exposing the flaws of the nation’s pillars in minute detail.

The old general sighed deeply. These principles of dealing with the world were words spoken by his granddaughter Yao Jinzhi when she was only fourteen or fifteen.

Sometimes, Yao Zhen would mock himself, wondering if all the life experience he had accumulated over the years had been fed to warhorses as fodder.

Fortunately, there was still Chen Ping’an in the team.

Yao Zhen enjoyed chatting with this young man during this journey north.

Chen Ping’an had previously sparred with Yao Xianzhi as agreed, offering some guidance. Yao Xianzhi regarded Chen Ping’an’s words as gospel. When he went back to confide in his grandfather, he was very upset, saying that his lifetime of martial arts training had been wasted. Yao Zhen asked him how many decades were in his so-called “lifetime,” leaving Yao Xianzhi speechless and amusing Yao Jinzhi, who was brewing tea nearby. Although Yao Jinzhi had never won against Lu Baixiang in chess, she was a master of tea tasting.

How could the Yao family, a lineage of brave men and women in the harsh, windswept borderlands, raise such a delicate and intelligent girl?

Yao Xianzhi blurted out, “Sister Jinzhi, I don’t like that Shao Yuanran. I like Chen Ping’an.”

Yao Jinzhi smiled and said, “What does your liking or disliking have to do with me?”

Yao Xianzhi was about to say something, but Yao Jinzhi glared at him, scaring him into swallowing the words at the tip of his tongue.

Yao Zhen laughed, showing a lack of family head dignity.

Yao Jinzhi casually said, “Grandpa, if nothing unexpected happens, an imperial envoy will arrive in Crane-Riding City soon. You can laugh then.”

Yao Zhen couldn’t laugh anymore.

Dealing with those old foxes who had been immersed in the dye vat of officialdom for decades and cultivated themselves in government service was truly a headache for the old man.

Chen Ping’an was practicing the Six Steps Walking Stance in his room, holding an imaginary sword and visualizing swordsmen with different styles executing their strikes.

On the table was a section of bamboo, ordinary green bamboo, casually cut from a bamboo forest on a nearby green mountain.

Chen Ping’an wanted to carve a pen holder as a farewell gift for Old General Yao.

Pei Qian ran over, saying she wanted to go out and explore. Chen Ping’an told her to ask Lu Baixiang if he was willing to take her out. If not, she should stay in the room and read. Chen Ping’an had previously given her a second Confucian classic, which Pei Qian had memorized thoroughly. Once, she came to Chen Ping’an’s room excitedly, saying that she could truly recite it backward. Chen Ping’an picked up the book and asked her to try it. She actually recited over a thousand words without missing a single one. Then Chen Ping’an grabbed her ear and made her go back to her room to reflect on her actions, saying only that reading required intention, and had she taken his words as mere whispers in the wind?

That time, Pei Qian returned to her room in a huff, stood on a chair, looked down at the tattered book on the table, pinched her chin, and frowned. Intention? What did that mean? Was she not being intentional enough? It had taken her a whole incense stick’s worth of time to be able to recite a book backward. She squatted down, looked at the name of the sage who wrote this damned book, and remembered it. When she mastered her swordsmanship and fist techniques, she would definitely beat that old turtle until he cried for his parents.

She stood up again and pondered for a long time but couldn’t figure out the answer. She jumped off the chair, grabbed her mountain-roaming staff, with which she depended on for survival, and practiced a set of Mad Demon Staff Techniques.

After finishing, she threw away the mountain-roaming staff and immediately felt that she was closer to becoming the number one expert in the world. Only then did her mood improve, and she collapsed onto the bed, snoring loudly.

Today, after receiving Chen Ping’an’s promise, she happily went to find Lu Baixiang, who she privately nicknamed “Little White.” But Lu Baixiang was playing chess with Sui Youbian, saying he would be done in half an hour. Pei Qian turned her head and looked at Wei Xian, who was sitting listlessly to the side, unable to understand chess but waiting for the outcome. She was about to say something, but Wei Xian, staring intently at the chessboard, suddenly said the word “move,” then stood up. Pei Qian suddenly understood. The two left the post-house together to go shopping.

Pei Qian asked with a smile, “Old Wei, did you bring any money?”

Of the four, Pei Qian was least afraid of Wei Xian, calling him Old Wei all the time. Wei Xian never frowned at her either, in fact he simply didn’t care.

Wei Xian was silent.

Pei Qian complained, “Then what’s the point of going to the street? If we see beautiful things and delicious food, we won’t be able to afford them.”

Wei Xian suddenly said, “I have some silver.”

Pei Qian frowned, “Where did it come from? Stolen? Robbed? If you give me half, I won’t tell Chen Ping’an.”

Wei Xian said, “I taught the little cripple at the inn a set of fist techniques and got a few coins. Recently, I taught Yao Xianzhi fist stances and got a dozen taels.”

Pei Qian said with envy, “Old Wei, you’re something else. You can make money wherever you go. I admire you for that.”
Pei Qian, hands clasped behind her back, puffed out her chest as she walked, soon tutting, “But Old Wei, you’re even cheating Little Cripple out of his money; that’s not right. Cheating him is worse than cheating that Nine-Lady; she’s the one with real money in her purse. What a pity! Old Wei, your looks just aren’t pleasing. You’re nowhere near as handsome as my dad was when he was young. Old Wei, born with such a homely face, don’t you resent your parents when you grow up?”

To be spoken to like this by a little girl to a founding emperor, one would think Wei Xian would be beside himself.

The short, sturdy man said in a measured tone, “Back then, the court painters who drew my portrait praised my imposing countenance. I believe they were being sincere.”

Pei Qian was astonished, “Old Wei, has your heart been deceived by pig’s fat, or do they have eyes growing out of their behinds?”

Wei Xian continued to cultivate his silent meditation.

Riding Crane City had no curfew, and the city’s wealthy were countless, willing to spend extravagantly.

Exiting the inn and turning onto a street, the large and small figures walked in the bustling crowd. Pei Qian didn’t have a single coin in her pocket, but her aura was that of someone rolling in riches.

This wasn’t strange, since she could swindle a large group of peers in the unfamiliar Fox Town, making them believe she was a princess fallen among the common folk. In the end, she even managed to deceive a group of shrewd and slippery constables, who respectfully escorted her back to the inn.

Pei Qian suddenly asked, “Old Wei, I always feel like that woman who’s afraid to show her face has a strange look in her eyes when she looks at my dad.”

Wei Xian said serenely, “The arts of an emperor.”

Pei Qian was bewildered, “What’d you say?”

Wei Xian didn’t elaborate.

Pei Qian didn’t press the matter, swallowed her saliva, and smiled greedily, “Old Wei, can you buy me a sugar figurine?”

Wei Xian shook his head.

Pei Qian was indignant, “Old Wei, how can you be so stingy?”

Wei Xian, for once, smiled, “I don’t have Chen Ping An’s skill and patience; I can’t raise you.”

Pei Qian was confused, looking pitiful, “Then, can I borrow money from you to buy a sugar figurine?”

Wei Xian nodded, “At a three-percent interest rate.”

Pei Qian frowned, “Although I know what a three-percent interest rate is, I think I’ll pass. If I don’t eat, I don’t eat; no one ever starved to death.”

Saying that, her feet carried her to a stall where a sugar figurine was being blown. Her feet rooted to the ground, refusing to budge.

Wei Xian couldn’t leave Pei Qian alone there.

If he lost Pei Qian, a man like Chen Ping An would definitely lash out at him.

At the stall, the old man blowing sugar was skilled, and the children were gathered, their eyes wide with anticipation, drooling. Those with elders by their side happily received sugar figurines of various shapes.

The long rectangular cabinet had a wooden round cage underneath, containing a small charcoal stove. The old man poured a ladle of viscous, golden sugar syrup, swirling it around, instantly creating various sugar figurines.

Wei Xian took out money and bought two strings, her eyes fixed on the two strings in Wei Xian’s hands.

Wei Xian handed them to Pei Qian, “A reward for you.”

His tone was as if an emperor was bestowing a vast territory.

Pei Qian beamed, “When I get back, I’ll say good things about you to Dad every day. I’m half a scholar now; I stick to my word!”

The large and small figures, gnawing on their sugar figurines, were inconspicuous in the crowd.

Inside the inn, the game of chess had concluded, still Sui You Bian losing.

Sui You Bian had no desire to win or lose in the matter of chess.

Lu Bai Xiang was alone in the room, replaying the game, gazing at the chessboard, his fingers twisting a vacant chess piece, pressing it on the table, gently sliding it.

In the room not far away, Chen Ping An was carving the bamboo tube, attempting to engrave an entire essay of a Sage on the outside of the brush holder.

Fortunately, he had been carving words on bamboo slips all these years. Through familiarity, and with the foundation of porcelain shaping in his youth, the carved words couldn’t be said to be spirited, but between the lines, they contained a sense of righteousness. Without an aggressive, penetrating momentum, they were like a long stream, still having some semblance of artistry.

Some say that cultivators in the Lower Five Realms seek longevity, cultivators in the Middle Five Realms seek immortality, and cultivators in the Upper Five Realms walk the Great Path alone at a higher and farther place, almost without stopping for a moment.

Chen Ping An didn’t think there was anything wrong with that, being busy and fulfilled, not wasting time, but sometimes he needed to stop, or slow down, and calm down to appreciate the scenery on the path of cultivation.

Carving beautiful words on bamboo slips was like that, and so was making a not-so-valuable brush holder by hand, with only heartfelt intentions.

Nothing happened overnight.

Chen Ping An stayed up late carving most of the brush holder.

He slept for two hours and got up to continue practicing his fist stances and practicing sword forms with an empty hand.

Winter was approaching.

He wondered if he would have the luck to encounter the first heavy snow of the year when he reached the ferry outside Mirage City.

Mirage City in heavy snow was said to resemble a fairyland.

While eating breakfast, Chen Ping An learned that the Yao family’s team would be resting in Riding Crane City for two days, but he didn’t pay much attention.

Yao Xian Zhi came to find Chen Ping An, saying that everyone had agreed to visit the small mountain where the immortal had ridden a crane to ascend, and that the governor’s mansion had notified the inn that, regardless of whether General Yao went there, the area near the mountain would be closed off today, prohibiting anyone from climbing.

After meeting up, Chen Ping An discovered that there were quite a few people, including the three Yaos of the same generation, the Daoist Shao Yuan Ran in a green robe, and even Sui You Bian, who rarely showed her face.

Wei Xian and Lu Bai Xiang chose to stay at the inn, but the old general, who had been traveling and enjoying the scenery all the way, was absent this time, which was somewhat unusual.

Today, Chen Ping An had changed into the robe *Jin Li* whose grade had been raised, so he appeared in white clothes. If someone was observant, they would notice a white jade hairpin tucked in his hair.

In the Great Li Dynasty, the northernmost part of Treasure Bottle Continent, young men were naturally tall, at least half a head taller than those in Old Dragon City in the south. Moreover, it was common for fifteen- or sixteen-year-old men to marry and start families in the towns and villages of Treasure Bottle Continent. Only wealthy and scholarly families would pay attention to reaching adulthood at twenty.

After practicing his fist techniques, Chen Ping An’s height had been increasing, and unknowingly, he had the appearance of a proper young man.

Trailing behind him was the dark and lean Pei Qian.

As long as she was by Chen Ping An’s side, she wasn’t so afraid of Zhu Lian.

The group went to the small mountain in the center of the city, passing by the martial temple outside the state city, and saw a strange person, and something strange happened.

It was a tall, sturdy teenager with bloodstains on his body who broke into the martial temple, but was soon dragged out the door by the temple attendant and his men.
The Confucian and Martial Temples in the city were not places where just anyone could cause trouble.

The young man, after being thrown out, kowtowed fervently towards the Martial Temple, the sounds echoing loudly as he pleaded with the sacred place.

The temple custodian, a tall, thin old man, stood atop the steps, sternly addressing the youth, “The blade held by the Martial Saint is not to be defiled by ordinary mortals! I will overlook your transgression this time, considering your youth and ignorance. Depart at once and abandon these foolish notions!”

It turned out that this was a young man who had barged into the Martial Temple, seeking to borrow the Saint’s blade.

The youth’s forehead was red and swollen from the incessant kowtowing, blood beginning to seep through. He raised his head, his face streaked with desperate tears, and croaked, “My master, for the sake of the people of this prefecture, wholeheartedly sought to slay demons and eliminate harm. Now, he is trapped within the mountain mists, his life hanging by a thread! After sending me out of the miasma, he told me that only by borrowing the long blade from the Martial Temple’s venerable deity would there be a chance to slay that ferocious great demon that plagues the land! Elder Custodian, I beg you, this is an act of accumulating merit and doing good. The Martial Saint will not be angered…”

The imposing old man sneered, “Whether the Martial Saint is angered is not for you to decide! To privately use the weapon of a Martial Temple Saint, do you know what the punishment is according to the Great Quan laws?! The local official, the county magistrate, will be immediately dismissed! The prefect demoted by one rank, the governor’s salary docked for three years!”

The young man was heartbroken, muttering, “When harmful demons appear in the land, the officials simply ignore them. Now, even the Martial Saint is unwilling to intervene?”

The old man appeared harsh and cold, but in his heart, he sighed.

*You foolish youth, the world is not so simple.*

Zhu Lian raised his eyelids slightly, glancing at Chen Ping’an, who was standing before him.

Just as Chen Ping’an was about to step forward, Shao Yuanran strode out, causing Chen Ping’an to quietly retract his action.

Shao Yuanran came to the young man’s side, squatting down and asking, “Where is your master trapped, and do you know the approximate strength of the demon?”

The young man explained everything in detail.

Shao Yuanran reached out and helped the young man up, grasping his shoulder and smiling, “I will go save your master and help him eliminate the demon.”

Shao Yuanran turned his head, looking at Yao Jinzhi, who wore a veiled hat, and said apologetically, “Miss Yao, I’m afraid I cannot go to Little Mountain.”

Yao Jinzhi nodded lightly, her face obscured.

Shao Yuanran grabbed the young man, and with a swift movement, he leaped away, landing on the distant rooftops. After a few light steps, he vanished without a trace.

The sword-carrying maiden, Yao Xianzhi, was filled with admiration, her impression of Shao Yuanran, the Great Quan’s young court enchanter, further enhanced.

Pei Qian had been squinting at the fellow surnamed Shao the entire time. She tilted her head, speechless and dazed.

With this incident, the subsequent mountain trek lost much of its appeal, and Little Mountain was indeed too small, lacking anything particularly remarkable.

Only Sui Youbian, who carried a sword, stood atop the mountain, looking up at the heavens with fervent eyes.

Chen Ping’an, besides a slight regret that the scenery was unremarkable, did not reveal too much emotion.

Whether it was the Great Quan Mountain God wading through water, the Water God climbing mountains, or the young man in Riding Crane City seeking to borrow a blade from the Martial Temple, these were merely insignificant ripples.

The Great Fu Academy going to join forces with the Mountain Lord of Taiping Mountain to intercept the twelfth-realm great demon’s escape to the sea was the major event.

And the gentleman Zhong Kui going to the Taiping Mountain’s gate was also no small matter.

Besides the other two gentlemen, three sages, and twenty-odd students from the Great Fu Academy, the Literary Garden Academy, located further south, sent an even larger number of scholars to Taiping Mountain, totaling more than fifty people. Unfortunately, they were led by only one aging gentleman, and the cultivation of the remaining academy students was far inferior to those of the Great Fu Academy.

This was the awkward situation of the Literary Garden Academy. The academy’s reputation was not prominent, being the least talented of the four academies of Tongye Continent. There were often rumors on the mountain that the Literary Garden Academy might be stripped of its title as one of the seventy-two academies. This was because the academy had not produced a new gentleman in nearly a century, and the academy’s three headmasters, both senior and junior, did not have many impressive works of sagehood to their name. People who visited the Literary Garden Academy did not come for the sages, but rather for the Literary Garden Pavilion, which housed countless books.

Zhong Kui arrived at the Taiping Mountain gate and, indeed, followed the teacher’s instructions, telling all the Great Fu Academy students to obey the arrangements of the Taiping Mountain Taoists and not to act rashly.

Although troubles were erupting everywhere, the Taiping Mountain Taoists, regardless of their seniority, were not flustered. Each decision was made in an orderly manner, and batches of Qi refiners descended the mountain to encircle and suppress demons in various places. There were losses and injuries, and many of those who died in battle were Taiping Mountain Taoists. This earned the respect of the two great academies and the Qi refiners from many immortal caves, and they cooperated even more sincerely. During the lulls in the battles, the person most talked about by the crowds from all over, united against a common enemy, was definitely the outer sect handyman of the Divining Sect who had become famous overnight. It was said that he had been accepted as a closed-door disciple by the Divining Sect Master and given a semi-immortal weapon that had been refined by the Sect Master’s Dao companion for a hundred years.

If this young man had not uncovered the twelfth-realm great demon’s conspiracy and had to take action prematurely, the consequences would have been unimaginable. The Taiping Mountain’s well prison, used to suppress demons, would probably not have escaped by a majority, but all of them would have been seen again, especially the few demons at the bottom, whose Daoism was profound, with the lowest being in the Nascent Soul realm.

In the past ten days, demons lurking in various places had been constantly surfacing, wreaking havoc in the area, and these demons were mostly in the Dragon Gate realm and the Golden Core realm, making them extremely difficult to encircle and suppress.

Taiping Mountain did not dare to take it lightly. Whether it was the sect’s own Taoists or the fellow Daoists who came to support Taiping Mountain, they almost all went out.

Only the gentleman Zhong Kui chose to stay in Taiping Mountain.

No one objected. This time, in his journey to slay demons, Zhong Kui had killed the most enemies, and he did not blindly protect his own academy disciples. Several times when he went down the mountain to fight fiercely, he took the initiative to enter the Qi-refining teams of other sects. Therefore, the Nascent Soul Earth Immortal who was originally in charge of overseeing the overall situation in Taiping Mountain smiled at Zhong Kui before personally descending the mountain and said that the mountain gate would be temporarily entrusted to Mr. Zhong.

The Nascent Soul Earth Immortal privately revealed to Zhong Kui that their Taiping Mountain’s ancestral master would be able to return soon, and may even bring back the female Taoist Huang Ting from the Lotus Root Blessed Land.

Zhong Kui laughed and said that it would be good to come back quickly, so he wouldn’t have to stare at the well prison every day.

After that, Zhong Kui would patrol the bottom of the well prison alone every day.

Late one night, just as he was walking out of the well prison, he saw a… great demon he had heard of but never met.

In fact, not to mention Zhong Kui, an outsider, even many Taoists of high seniority in Taiping Mountain had never seen this great demon who practiced on Taiping Mountain.
It was a white ape carrying a sword on its back, clad in black robes.

Its stature was comparable to that of a grown man, yet this white ape of exceedingly high cultivation realm had not taken on human form, maintaining its original simian appearance.

This old ape, though a renowned demon of Tongye Continent, was also a guardian spirit of Taiping Mountain. Setting aside the old ape’s past years of cultivation, it had been guarding the mountain gates of Taiping Mountain for three thousand years.

The old ape’s age even surpassed that of the last surviving ancestral master of Taiping Mountain, who had ventured down the mountain. The creation of the Well Prison was a monumental feat by the founder of Taiping Mountain, but in the long years that followed, the duty of guarding the Well Prison was entrusted to this white ape, who favored carrying a sword and rarely appeared in the world. In the few instances in history when great demon overlords escaped, without exception, it was the white ape who personally resolved the matter, dealing with it cleanly and thoroughly, so much so that even many Earth Immortals of Taiping Mountain had never heard of it.

This time, during the great chaos, the old ape, a Jade Purity Realm sword cultivator, was in closed-door cultivation, attempting to break through the bottleneck of the Immortal Realm.

Unexpectedly, after only three to five years of seclusion, the old ape emerged. Could it be that it had sensed the turmoil outside and had no choice but to appear ahead of schedule?

The autumn wind was sharp, and the mountains and forests were silent.

Even just standing there, the old ape was like a towering mountain.

Zhong Kui, still in the azure robes he wore at the inn on the border of Great Spring, asked, “It was you, wasn’t it?”

The sword-bearing white ape did not speak.

It answered only with the soaring sword qi from its back, like a rainbow.