Boarding that exquisite miniature building, transformed from a jade carving boat, it took barely an hour to cleave through a sea of clouds and descend amidst the mist-wreathed peaks.

They had arrived at Violet Sun Prefecture.

Looking down from a slightly higher vantage point, this immortal sect rivaled the scale of a worldly emperor’s palace. At its heart lay a vast expanse of magnificent structures, shimmering with a purplish-gold hue under the sunlight.

As Chen Ping An and his companions disembarked, the tall female cultivator who called herself True Lord Cave-Spirit Wu Yi, retracted the jade carving boat into her sleeve. As for those charming young women, they transformed into talisman papers, which True Lord Cave-Spirit did not retrieve. Instead, she casually flicked her sleeve, sending them into a nearby babbling brook, where they dissolved into wisps of spiritual energy, merging with the water.

An astute, gaunt old man immediately appeared on the opposite bank, kneeling and kowtowing to the female cultivator, loudly proclaiming, “Small Deity of Accumulated Fragrance Temple greets Ancestor Cave-Spirit! I thank Ancestor for your immense kindness!”

Zhu Lian slapped Pei Qian on the head and whispered, “Another one of your ilk has appeared. Aren’t you going to embrace them?”

Pei Qian rolled her eyes.

Wu Yi said indifferently, “If you have nothing to do, return to your Accumulated Fragrance Temple.”

The deity quickly rose and excused himself, transforming into a wisp of green smoke mixed with golden light, vanishing into the river in a flash.

Wu Yi explained with a smile, “This is the only downside to venturing out, it’s hard to find peace and quiet.”

Chen Ping An nodded, expressing his understanding.

Wu Yi casually inquired, “Young Master Chen, where are the others who accompanied you last time? Like that little girl in the red padded jacket, whom my father favored so much, why are none of them to be seen?”

Chen Ping An replied with a smile, “They are all studying in Great Sui.”

Wu Yi seemed somewhat regretful.

Her father had once revealed that the tall youth named Yu Lu was none other than the exiled crown prince of the Lu Dynasty, living incognito!

His rich draconic aura was like the most delectable delicacy in the world.

Back then, her father, for reasons unknown, had not devoured him. She dared not act rashly under her father’s watchful eye, and missed the opportunity. She wondered if she would have another chance to feast, perhaps breaking through that accursed Golden Core bottleneck.

To break through and ascend to the “end of the Great Dao,” the Nascent Soul realm, her younger brother had willingly become the deity of the Cold Food River, while she diligently practiced unorthodox Taoist arts. It wasn’t entirely useless, but progress was excruciatingly slow, enough to drive one mad.

Could it be that for the next hundred or thousand years, she would have to live in her father’s shadow? Constantly on edge, fearing that her father would get hungry one day, or suffer serious injuries in battle and need nourishment, and use them, his two children, to fill his belly?

Years ago, she and her pitiful brother accompanied their father to meet Great Li’s National Preceptor, Cui Chan. That experience was not pleasant. Her father was stripped of three hundred years of cultivation by Embroidered Tiger, using an ancient inkstone with an ancient divine power. Afterward, her father vented his anger on her and her brother, beating them mercilessly. However, the outcome was not bad. Her father finally left the Yellow Court Kingdom, and she and her brother no longer had a mountain weighing on their hearts. After all, over the long millennia, countless descendants had been devoured by this violent father. Moreover, Violet Sun Prefecture and Cold Food River had each become recognized as vassal lands by the Great Li Dynasty, independent from the Yellow Court Kingdom.

Wu Yi was, of course, just an alias. As the founding ancestor of Violet Sun Prefecture, her true form was a descendant of the ancient Shu Flood Dragon. If not for the family letter sent by her father, even with a Far-Travel Realm martial artist as an escort, she would have been too lazy to bother with Chen Ping An. It would have simply been a choice between the narrow log bridge and the broad sunny path, each going their own way. Why would she be so diligent as to personally welcome him, and even force a smile onto her face for a young man?

Wu Yi led Chen Ping An and his companions slowly along the main road by the river. It was exceptionally smooth, paved with large slabs of cyan flagstone, reflecting clear images.

Pei Qian, holding her walking stick, kept staring at the mirror-like cyan stone ground, looking at the charcoal-black girl within, grinning, and enjoying herself.

Wu Yi hadn’t chatted much with Chen Ping An on the building ship earlier, so she took this opportunity to give Chen Ping An a rough introduction to the origins and history of Violet Sun Prefecture.

Chen Ping An’s responses were barely adequate, and on such matters, not to mention Wind & Thunder Garden’s Liu Baqiao, even Li Huai was better than him.

Perhaps because he had opened a water mansion and refined the Water Character Seal, Chen Ping An could sense faint strands of water essence contained within the cyan megaliths beneath his feet.

Chen Ping An looked around, understanding dawning in his heart.

Creatures of the flood dragon lineage must cultivate near water. Even those flood dragon descendants whose Great Dao roots seemed closer to mountains would still have to obediently leave the mountains after forming their Golden Core, becoming flood dragons in rivers and dragons in canals, ultimately inseparable from the element of water.

It must be that the cultivators of Violet Sun Prefecture throughout the ages could never have guessed why their founding patriarch had chosen this place to build the estate and propagate their lineage.

Violet Sun Prefecture was among the top immortal lineages in the Yellow Court Kingdom, yet unlike ordinary immortal abodes built on mountaintops, it was situated beside a beautiful river with a broad view. The river, formed by the confluence of mountain forests and streams, was called Iron Writ River, the upper reaches of the Yellow Court Kingdom’s third-largest river, White Egret River, and could be considered the source of the mighty White Egret River. Therefore, the orthodox river deity of the Yellow Court Kingdom had been conferred an official title, allowing the deity to have a golden statue and a temple built, helping the Hong family emperors of the Yellow Court Kingdom to oversee the eight hundred miles of water transport.

It should be known that the matter of enfeoffing mountain and river deities in the various nations of the Vast Sky was of paramount importance to the mountains and rivers of the nation, and could determine whether an emperor sat firmly on the dragon throne. Because the number of positions was limited, the Five Sacred Mountains deities were assigned first, often chosen by the founding emperor. Generally speaking, later emperors and monarchs would not easily replace them, as it involved too much and would be extremely damaging. All the river deities, river gods, and river grandmothers belonging to the orthodox river gods, as well as the large and small mountain gods and the lowly local earth grandfathers and grandmothers beneath the Five Sacred Mountains, were not to be squandered arbitrarily by the emperors on the dragon throne. Even the most foolish and incompetent monarchs would not treat this matter as a joke, and even the court officials who were full of petty people would not allow the emperor to mess around.

As long as the national treasury was full and could be exchanged for enough immortal money, and with the permission of one of the seventy-two Confucian academies, a gentleman would appear, embodying the Heavenly Constitution, and personally “point out the rivers and mountains” for the nation. Then, the court could rightfully create an orthodox deity for its own mountains and rivers, which in turn would nourish the national fortune and stabilize the nation’s aura.
This spectacle is what people call the prosperity of the empire, inevitably leading to congratulations from civil and military officials, nationwide celebrations, and the emperor’s delighted countenance, prompting him to grant amnesty to prisoners. Such an era would be hailed in history books as one ushered in by a sagacious ruler, a beacon of revival.

However, cultivators from the mountains have always scorned such worldly fanfare, deriding it as “another layer added to the common folk’s coffin, another piece of wood added to the emperor’s throne.”

As for why various nations are riddled with lewd shrines that persist despite repeated bans, is it truly due to the court’s feebleness and inability to eradicate them?

To a large extent, many of these shrines are tacitly approved by the court. Without the endorsement of a virtuous scholar from a Confucian academy, these shrines thrive. The court turns a blind eye to these popular shrines, and some even secretly fund them, subtly encouraging local literati to lead pilgrimages, inspiring the populace to follow suit.

The Tiequan River also has a legitimate river deity, the humble old man who came and went in haste earlier.

For centuries, this golden effigy enshrined in the Jixiang Temple has been a puppet of the Ziyang Prefecture. One of the trials for the prefecture’s cultivators below the fifth realm often involves this Tiequan River God, ridiculed by his peers as one who “sacrifices fellow daoists to save himself, picking up the scraps,” dispatching river spirits to their deaths. These pitiful minions are essentially offering their necks to be chopped by novice Qi cultivators. Only the lucky ones escape. Over time, the river’s naturally born spirits become depleted, forcing the river god to spend his own money to enhance the river’s essence. In lean years, he must even bring gifts and visit the immortal masters of Ziyang Prefecture, begging them to cast down immortal coins to replenish the river’s spiritual energy and accelerate the growth of water ghosts and spirits, lest he delay the trials of the prefecture’s inner disciples.

It sounds humiliating, almost like a desperate struggle for survival, but countless river deities in the Huangting Kingdom envy him greatly.

The reason is simple: the Tiequan River God is merely a river deity, yet the sturdiness of his golden effigy rivals that of the White Egret River God, the third largest river deity in the Huangting Kingdom.

How? By relying on the scraps he scrapes together each year from the Ziyang Prefecture’s fingernails, accumulating them year after year, and through the incense offerings at the Jixiang Temple where his golden effigy resides.

The Ziyang Prefecture’s cultivators have always disliked being disturbed in their cultivation. Many dignitaries who come seeking them can only stop at the Jixiang Temple, two hundred miles from the prefecture.

After stopping, they naturally burn incense and offer prayers. Some clandestine matters also require the Tiequan River God to help communicate with the Ziyang Prefecture. Because the prefecture is skilled at generating wealth, from third-realm cultivators to Dragon Gate realm cultivators, there is a general price for each invitation to “travel.” However, the prefecture’s cultivators are arrogant and aloof, and ordinary secular dignitaries may not be able to meet these immortals even if they have money. This requires the Jixiang Temple of the Tiequan River, which has a good relationship with the Ziyang Prefecture, to help connect them.

During this process, the Tiequan River God absolutely dares not profit from it, not even a copper coin. Only when the generals, ministers, and dignitaries offer money to worship the immortals of the Ziyang Prefecture, and the latter come out to settle matters, will a sum of incense money, unrelated to the Ziyang Prefecture, naturally be sent to the Jixiang Temple.

Nearing the Ziyang Prefecture’s residence.

Outside the gate of the prefecture is a white jade plaza.

It is already filled with the Ziyang Prefecture’s people, who are waiting for the return of their ancestor. The Ziyang Prefecture is divided into inner and outer disciples. The inner disciples are the direct descendants of the founder, Wu Yi, as well as the successive prefects of the Ziyang Prefecture and their disciples, plus the long-lived Dragon Gate realm elders and the Sea Gazing realm cultivators who are in charge of various affairs. The outer disciples are relatively mixed, including Qi cultivators with ordinary aptitudes, wild cultivators who have joined the Ziyang Prefecture, pure martial artists, and slaves and servants who have served the Ziyang Prefecture for generations. The outer disciples, who are a mixed bag, naturally far outnumber the Qi cultivators who are devoted to cultivation.

Nearly a thousand people.

In the plaza, everyone stands according to their status, and there must be no error in their positions.

Perhaps to prevent Chen Ping An from mistakenly thinking that he was giving them a show of strength, Wu Yi smiled and explained, “I haven’t appeared in the Ziyang Prefecture for more than a hundred years. In the early years, I declared to the outside world that I had chosen a blessed land and was cultivating in seclusion. I was really tired of those unavoidable social interactions, so I simply hid and didn’t see anyone.”

When Wu Yi stepped from the bluestone road onto the edge of the white jade plaza, everyone knelt down and kowtowed in unison, shouting, “Congratulations to the ancestor for leaving seclusion!”

In Pei Qian’s ears, it sounded like thunder.

Such a battle, such a grand scene, made Pei Qian’s eyes shine.

Wu Yi raised a hand.

Pei Qian was amazed. Although the thousand or so people were kneeling on the ground with their heads down, they stood up with a whoosh, as if they had eyes on the back of their heads.

Wu Yi walked straight ahead, and Chen Ping An was about to deliberately lag behind to avoid detracting from the glory of the Ziyang Prefecture’s ancestor. Unexpectedly, Wu Yi also stopped and told Chen Ping An with ripples in his mind, with a hint of sincerity in his words, “Young Master Chen, there is no need to be so polite. You are a rare guest to the Ziyang Prefecture in a hundred years. My small territory is located in the countryside, far from the sages, but we still have to have the etiquette of hospitality. So Young Master Chen, please walk with me side by side.”

Wu Yi was arrogant by nature and was a local immortal in the Huangting Kingdom known for her unruliness. Originally, going to see Chen Ping An was an act of forcing herself to do something she didn’t want to do. Since Chen Ping An’s words and deeds were appropriate everywhere, and he didn’t take advantage of his familiarity with his father, Embroidered Tiger, and Wei Bo to act presumptuously in front of her, it made Wu Yi feel much more comfortable, so she had these words in her mind.

Chen Ping An smiled and shook his head, “True Monarch Wu is returning to the

immortal mansion for the first time in a hundred years. If it were normal, I would boldly walk side by side with True Monarch Wu, but it is absolutely impossible today. I hope True Monarch Wu will take the first step, and we will follow closely.”

Wu Yi smiled and didn’t insist, and walked ahead alone.

He is a young man who knows the measure.

However, he is too rigid and pedantic, almost like a school teacher. She doesn’t dislike him, but she doesn’t like him either.

As Wu Yi moved forward, the sea of people in the plaza immediately divided into a road.
Only five or six individuals, successively, were deemed worthy to stand behind Wu Yi. Within the Purple Sun Mansion, the more revered one’s position, the closer they stood to the front. For instance, the middle-aged cultivator to Chen Ping’an’s right was the current Mansion Lord, a Golden Core Earth Immortal. However, the two cultivators positioned roughly alongside Pei Qian, Zhu Lian, and Shi Rou were Dragon Gate Realm old cultivators, even more senior than the Mansion Lord. One oversaw rewards and punishments, the other managed finances. Thus, the Purple Sun Mansion Lord was merely a figurehead, possessing no real power, simply a facade for dealing with the Yellow Court Kingdom’s court and other mountain strongholds.

Nevertheless, of all the Purple Sun Mansion Lords throughout history, totaling seven individuals, only one had relied on their own aptitude and talent to ascend to the realm of a Land Immortal. The remaining six, like the current one, had their realms artificially elevated using the Purple Sun Mansion’s Immortal Money. Their actual combat strength was far inferior to that of Golden Core Earth Immortals from major sects, especially the wild cultivators who had carved their own bloody path.

The Purple Sun Mansion’s foundation, of course, extended beyond this. There were also several former Mansion Lords, or disciples Wu Yi had taken in her early years, now regarded as ancestral figures of the Purple Sun Mansion, currently in secluded cultivation. Some were also twilight cultivators, their path to the Great Dao hopeless, their Golden Cores corroded by the passage of time, able only to rely on the Purple Sun Mansion’s spiritually rich residences, clinging to life like a mortal clinging to ginseng, remaining hidden from the world.

Everyone in the Purple Sun Mansion was speculating about the identity of the young man carrying the bamboo box.

Could he be a newly acquired disciple of Ancestral Spirit Cave? Could he be a candidate for the next Mansion Lord?

Wu Yi led Chen Ping’an into the Purple Sun Mansion, heading directly to the central Purple Qi Palace, instructing the Mansion Lord to prepare a grand banquet in the evening to welcome and cleanse the dust for their esteemed guest.

Upon entering the Purple Qi Palace, Wu Yi directed everyone to await in the Sword Reprimand Hall, stating that she would personally arrange accommodations for Young Master Chen.

Esteemed guest?

The group exchanged puzzled glances.

Could he be a direct disciple of some Nascent Soul Earth Immortal from the Great Li Dynasty, or a scion of an upper pillar state grandee, like the Yuan Cao family?

Wu Yi indeed personally settled Chen Ping’an and his companions into their lodgings before heading to the Sword Reprimand Hall, where the Purple Sun Mansion’s bigwigs were gathered. She sat on a dragon chair crafted from purple sandalwood, and commenced allowing those present to report on matters, such as the Purple Sun Mansion’s Immortal Money income and expenditures over the past century, the cultivation progress of the promising disciples, and the conditions of the elders. For the most part, she simply listened, offering no comments. If it were not so, she would not have been able to disappear for a century, acting as a hands-off manager, nor would she have continued to select puppet Mansion Lords despite being alive.

In truth, everyone knew that the Ancestral Founder disliked hearing about these trivial matters. Everyone’s solemn reports were merely for show.

Wu Yi made no effort to conceal her bored expression, her body slouched, resting her cheek in her hand, occasionally nodding.

Overall, the Purple Sun Mansion could be described as “thriving.”

That was sufficient.

Wu Yi was too lazy to concern herself with the petty squabbles outside of cultivation.

The construction of the Purple Sun Mansion, her establishment as the founding ancestor, had been a whim, born of sheer boredom.

Furthermore, the various descendants of the Flood Dragon lineage often enjoyed establishing mansions for show, and to house the treasures they plundered from all directions.

The Yellow Court Kingdom was part of the old territories following the division of the ancient Shu Kingdom. The Godly Water Kingdom, which mysteriously collapsed overnight, was also a Feng Shui treasure land coveted by the Flood Dragon lineage, due to its abundance of water energy. Moreover, ancient Sword Immortals favored coming here to slay Flood Dragons, and many fell in battle, leaving behind numerous magical treasures. Although the vast majority had been collected by powerful dynasties like the Godly Water Kingdom, housed in the national treasury as national treasures passed down through generations, eventually transferring from an aging dynasty to the hands of a newly risen emperor, many treasures still remained, quietly gathered by her father.

She knew better than anyone how vast her father’s wealth was.

The magical treasure of the walnut-sized boat she carried was merely a casual gift from her father, a small present for her advancement to the Cave Realm.

However, the extent of her father’s collection could be said to be the most extravagant among all Earth Immortals in the northern Treasure Bottle Continent.

The Fu family of Old Dragon City in the south might be slightly superior, but that was the accumulated wealth of the entire Fu clan over two thousand years, while her father had achieved it solely through his own efforts.

Therefore, Wu Yi harbored a complex mix of hatred, fear, and respect for her father, whom she had never truly understood. The hatred was on the surface, the fear was in her bones, and the respect was in the depths of her heart. Presumably, her younger brother felt similarly.

Wu Yi looked up, realizing someone had asked how the Purple Sun Mansion should entertain Young Master Chen.

Wu Yi thought for a moment, “You don’t need to interfere in this matter. I will issue instructions as necessary.”

Wu Yi’s arrangement was quite amusing, placing Chen Ping’an and his companions in a six-story tower that was essentially a treasure trove.

Each floor was filled with the treasures collected by this True Lord of Spirit Cave and the Purple Sun Mansion’s past cultivators.

Before leaving, Wu Yi only said that she hoped they would not ascend to the top two floors without permission. They were free to explore the remaining four floors.

Since the building covered a wide area, in addition to the first floor, each floor above had rooms and beds, studies. The third floor even had a martial arts hall, housing three mechanical puppets that stood ten feet tall, so Chen Ping’an and his companions did not need to worry about having a plethora of treasures without a place to rest.

The first floor alone was enough to make Pei Qian wish she had another pair of eyes.

This trip to the Purple Sun Mansion had been a grand opening for Pei Qian, filling her with excitement.

Before, she had always thought that in the future, besides the treasure box given by Yao Jinzhi, acquiring one or two more treasure shelves would be the limit of her little head’s imagination. Now, entering this building in the Purple Qi Palace, she realized how incredibly wealthy truly wealthy people could be!

Now, without needing Chen Ping’an to remind her, Pei Qian would not rashly touch those strange antiques and treasures.

She planned to stay up all night to see all the hundreds of treasures on the four floors, otherwise she would certainly regret it for the rest of her life.

Letting Pei Qian and the equally excited Shi Rou “admire the scenery” on the first floor, Chen Ping’an and Zhu Lian stood on the fourth floor, overlooking half of the Purple Sun Mansion.

Chen Ping’an smiled, “I once talked to someone about what I envisioned my own mountain stronghold would be like in the future. Looking at this now, it seems that back then, I was just a poor man daydreaming. The Purple Sun Mansion is a vivid example.”

Chen Ping’an quickly added, “Actually, I wasn’t poor at the time either.”

Zhu Lian asked, “Young Master, this True Lord of Spirit Cave seems to be no ordinary Golden Core Earth Immortal?”
Chen Pingan nodded, “Roughly equivalent to more than half a nascent soul cultivator.”

After all, he was freeloading on their mountain, so Chen Pingan didn’t elaborate on the profound mysteries to Zhu Lian.

Zhu Lian understood in his heart.

Wu Yi, residing in the Ziyang Prefecture, undoubtedly possessed immortal formations, akin to a miniature world, almost on par with the combat strength of a nascent soul cultivator.

Zhu Lian joked, “If some untamed cultivator could sweep this building clean, wouldn’t they strike it rich? I heard the Treasure Bottle Continent has a Jade Pure Realm rogue cultivator.”

Chen Pingan retrieved a flask of wine from his miniature world and handed it to Zhu Lian, shaking his head. “The existence of the Confucian Academy is a tremendous deterrent to all earth immortals, especially cultivators above the fifth realm. They might not be able to oversee everything, but once the Confucian Academy makes a move and targets someone, it means there’s nowhere to hide under the vast heavens. So, it invisibly suppresses many conflicts between great cultivators.”

Zhu Lian took a sip of wine and laughed, “Why is it that the constraints on us pure martial artists are less in this world? Is it simply because there are so few eighth and ninth realm martial artists? I heard that even if a martial artist kills an emperor or monarch, the Confucian Academy might not necessarily send people to hunt them down.”

Chen Pingan softly said, “This involves many sealed ancient secrets. Cui Dongshan is unwilling to talk about them, and I’m not too interested myself. Back in my hometown of Longquan County, when I first ventured out on a long journey, the kiln supervisor and the newly appointed county magistrate were already the highest officials I knew. I always felt that emperors and such were too distant. Later, a concubine from the Great Li Imperial Palace, Song Jixin’s birth mother, sent people to kill me. I’ve always remembered that debt. Last time I met Song Jixin, my neighbor from Mud Bottle Lane, at the Cliff Academy, I spoke openly with him about it. But I’m not afraid of you laughing at me; even now, when I look at Song Jixin, I still can’t imagine that he’s a Great Li prince. Gao Xuan is a bit easier to accept, after all, the first time we met, he was dressed splendidly and had attendants by his side. But Song Jixin… he looks just like that carefree fellow from back then.”

Zhu Lian raised his wine pot and gently touched Chen Pingan’s sword-nurturing gourd. Chen Pingan had taken the gourd off but hadn’t touched it until now, taking his first sip.

Zhu Lian sighed, “What if Song Jixin becomes the Great Li Emperor one day? Wouldn’t young master be even more unable to imagine it?”

Chen Pingan nodded, “Definitely.”

The two were silent for a moment.

Chen Pingan suddenly said, “Cui Dongshan once had a very interesting saying. He said that the three sage schools are all trying to find a way to slow down the inevitable flow of the river of time.”

Zhu Lian became interested, curiously asking, “How would they slow it down?”

Chen Pingan leaned on the railing, patting it, “Immortal mountain peaks are one thing.”

Zhu Lian was confused.

Chen Pingan continued, “Human cities are one thing.”

Chen Pingan slowly said, “War, too, is one thing.”

Chen Pingan finally said, “And the myriad schools of thought that allow people to immerse themselves in, seem to be as well.”

Zhu Lian’s head spun, “Cui Dongshan speaks in mysterious riddles. I’m even more confused now.”

Chen Pingan drank his wine and laughed, “I don’t understand either.”

Zhu Lian softly asked, “Then does young master want to understand these profound and mysterious grand daos?”

Chen Pingan thought for a moment and shook his head, “If I can not understand them, then it’s better not to.”

Zhu Lian hummed, “Young master already understands enough. It’s truly not necessary to delve into everything and try to trace everything back to its origins.”

Chen Pingan turned his head, “Zhu Lian, can you change this habit of yours, of seizing every opportunity to flatter me?”

Zhu Lian raised his arm, shaking the wine pot in his hand, and laughed, “Why change it? If I change it, will there be wine to drink?”

Chen Pingan smiled, “That’s true.”

Zhu Lian tentatively asked, “Young master said before that you want to go to Northern Reed Continent to train alone. Can you really not bring old servant along? Without a cook to stoke the fire and prepare the meals, and without a follower to brown-nose you when you have nothing to do, how boring would that be?”

Chen Pingan nodded, “Just stay obediently on Fallen Mountain. I still hope you can… reach a higher level in martial arts. That old man Cui’s method of feeding punches suits me, and of course, it suits you even more. In the future, if you can reach the mountain peak realm, then even if Pei Qian travels the world for the first time, even if she goes to another continent to play with Li Huai, as long as you’re secretly protecting her, I can rest assured.”

Zhu Lian had no choice but to give up on persuading Chen Pingan to change his mind.

Chen Pingan asked, “Zhu Lian, can you talk about your younger days?”

Zhu Lian was unusually shy, “Countless muddled accounts, countless romantic debts. Talking about these, I’m afraid young master will lose his interest in drinking.”

Chen Pingan hopped onto the railing and sat there, “Tell me about them. Actually, I’ve secretly read those few Jianghu novels that you gave to Pei Qian several times. I think they’re all written very well. But after all, they’re Jianghu as imagined by scholars, not realistic enough. I believe your own personal experiences are more interesting.”