In the small house beside the mountain gate of Azure Gorge Isle, topographical maps of Quill Reed Lake isles and nearby cities and prefectures, household registration records from the Incense Offering Hall, ancestral hall genealogies of the major isles, along with nearly two hundred thousand words of transcribed manuscripts, were all neatly categorized and placed in the cabinets and drawers. They resembled the medicine drawers in the Yang family’s apothecary and the Dusty Herb Shop, though the desk was still piled high with documents.

Inside the house, there was a desk, a row of cabinets against the wall, a dining table, a chair, two long benches, and a small stool – these were all his worldly possessions.

Later, because Gu Can frequently visited the house, often sitting for long periods near the doorway from late autumn into winter, either basking in the sun and dozing off or chatting with Little Mud Carp, Chen Pingan, during a stroll on a Purple Bamboo Isle, asked the scholarly isle lord for three stalks of purple bamboo. Two were large and one small. He split and crafted the larger ones into two small bamboo chairs, while the smaller one was baked and polished into a fishing rod. However, despite making the fishing rod and being situated in Quill Reed Lake, he never had the chance to go fishing.

Tonight, Chen Pingan opened his food container and quietly ate his late-night supper at the dining table.

Chen Pingan was still waiting for a reply from Peaceful Mountain of Tongye Continent.

Even though Wei Bo had already provided all the answers, it wasn’t that Chen Pingan didn’t trust this elusive former deity of the Godly Waters Kingdom. Rather, the actions Chen Pingan needed to take next required him to be as thorough and meticulous as possible.

However, cross-continental flying sword transmissions were unreliable, often disappearing without a trace. Furthermore, Quill Reed Lake was already a contentious place, and the flying sword transmission originated from the notorious Azure Gorge Isle. Therefore, Chen Pingan had prepared for the worst. If all else failed, he would ask Wei Bo for a favor and have him write a letter from Cloud Drape Mountain to Zhong Kui of Peaceful Mountain.

If it were the Chen Pingan who was just beginning his journey through the pugilistic world, he might have simply wandered around on his own, unwilling to trouble others, despite having these connections. But things were different now.

Chen Pingan didn’t want to become the kind of solitary figure that the old Daoist priest of Eastern Sea View described. Owed favors were not frightening, as long as they were repaid. When friends encountered difficulties in the future, it would be easier for them to ask for help, as long as one didn’t make it difficult to repay those debts.

Chen Pingan finished his late-night meal, packed up the food container, unfolded a gazette at hand, and began to browse.

It contained current anecdotes and interesting stories from Quill Reed Lake, similar in nature to the official gazettes sent by mounted couriers from regional officials to government offices in secular dynasties. In fact, Chen Pingan had witnessed the wonders of such immortal gazettes during his travels at the Hundred Flowers Garden Inn in Qingluan Kingdom. Having stayed in Quill Reed Lake for a while, Chen Pingan followed local customs and asked Gu Can to obtain a copy of the immortal gazette for him. Whenever a fresh gazette was released, someone would deliver it to his house.

Almost every day, interesting events occurred on Palace Willow Isle, and news would spread throughout Quill Reed Lake by the next day.

This was thanks to a place called Willow Fluff Isle. The cultivators there, from the isle lord to the outer sect disciples and even the laborers, didn’t cultivate on the isle. They spent their days wandering around, earning a living by gathering information from various places and adding a bit of embellishment to sell as rumors. They also periodically sent immortal gazettes to half the isles in Quill Reed Lake, as well as to the wealthy and powerful clans in the four lakeside cities of Pool Water, Cloud Tower, and Green Paulownia Golden Goblet. If there were few events, the gazette might be the size of a bean curd, with a low price, a guaranteed Snow Coin. If there were many events, the gazette could be as large as a topographical map, costing tens of Snow Coins.

The recent gazette primarily focused on the current situation on Palace Willow Isle, highlighting the outstanding features of newly rising isles, and fresh news from old, established isles. For example, the Old Ancestor of Jade Bridge Isle had returned from his travels with an exceptional young cultivation prodigy who possessed a natural Daoist resonance with talismans. Another example was a previously unknown maiden among the female cultivators of Plum Blossom Isle Waterfall Convent who had suddenly blossomed in the past two years. Plum Blossom Isle had specifically opened up the “Mirror Flower Water Moon” path to wealth for her. In the first month alone, the mountain’s wealthy patrons flocked to admire the maiden’s graceful charm, showering her with Immortal Coins, causing the spiritual energy of Plum Blossom Isle to increase by a full ten percent. There was also Cloud Sprout Isle, which had been dormant for a century and had seen its “family fortune decline.” A cultivator from a humble background who had always been underestimated had surprisingly become the new Golden Core Earth Immortal of Quill Reed Lake, following in the footsteps of Tian Hu of Azure Gorge Isle. As a result, Cloud Sprout Isle, which wasn’t even qualified to participate in the alliance meeting on Palace Willow Isle, was now clamoring to be given a seat, insisting that without their presence, the election of a new Lord of the Lake would be illegitimate and lack authority.

Chen Pingan found these fascinating stories about “other people’s affairs” quite amusing. After reading it once, he couldn’t resist reading it again.

In this gazette, the Willow Fluff Isle journalist had dedicated a palm-sized space to the maiden cultivator from Plum Blossom Isle. Using a rubbing technique similar to those used on ferryboats in Flogging Altar Mountain, combined with the landscape painting skills of the artist-cultivator Chen Pingan had seen on the Osmanthus Isle ferry, the maiden’s appearance in the gazette was lifelike. It depicted a side view of her standing beneath a plum blossom tree at Waterfall Convent. Chen Pingan glanced at it a few times and thought she was indeed a captivating young woman. He wondered if she had undergone the Immortal “Skin-Changing Bone-Scraping” secret technique to alter her appearance. If Zhu Lian and the old Senior Xun were here, they would probably be able to see through it at a glance.

Chen Pingan had started buying gazettes relatively late. As he was now reading about the extraordinary people, strange events, and local customs of the various isles, he didn’t know that before the massacre at Hibiscus Mountain, news about him, the accountant of Azure Gorge Isle, had been the largest source of income for Willow Fluff Isle for some time.

Of course, Willow Fluff Isle hadn’t dared to write too aggressively, sticking mostly to flattering words, or else they would have to worry about Gu Can bringing that large mud carp to flatten Willow Fluff Isle with a few slaps. Historically, Willow Fluff Isle cultivators had suffered great losses. Since the founding of their ancestral hall, five hundred years ago, they had relocated their base of operations three times. The worst incident was during their early years, when the cultivators wrote carelessly. One gazette angered the illegitimate son of the Lord of the Lake at the time. The second time was three hundred years ago, when they offended the Lord of Palace Willow Isle by adding fuel to the fire regarding the old immortal and his female disciple. Even though it was all praise, the writing was filled with envy of the master and disciple becoming a divine couple. Nevertheless…

…it attracted a visit from Liu Laocheng. He didn’t kill anyone, but he scared Willow Fluff Isle so much that they changed isles the next day as an apology.
The third instance involved Liu Z茂. A dispatch in the gazette inadvertently altered Liu Zhi茂’s Daoist title, “截江真君 (Intercepting River True Lord),” to “截江天君 (Intercepting River Heavenly Lord).” This made Liu Zhi茂 the laughingstock of the entire Book Brief Lake overnight.

Furious, Liu Zhi茂 stormed Willow Catkin Isle and directly demolished their ancestral hall. This event was the most crippling blow Willow Catkin Isle had ever suffered. When the stunned cultivators of Willow Catkin Isle sought retribution, they discovered that the writer responsible for the dispatch had fled. It turned out that this person was a junior among the many wronged spirits under a great cultivator of Willow Catkin Isle, who had lurked on the island for twenty years, using a single word to bring ruin upon the entire Willow Catkin Isle. As for the Sea Gazing realm cultivator responsible for reviewing the gazette’s text, although he was indeed negligent, he could not be considered the main culprit and was still dragged out as a scapegoat.

Chen Ping’an heard a rare knock on his door. Judging by the light, familiar footsteps, it was likely Hongsu, the doorkeeper of the Vermillion String Manor.

He quickly got up to open the door. Hongsu, the “old woman” with a head of dark hair, politely declined Chen Ping’an’s invitation to enter the house. After hesitating for a moment, she softly asked, “Mr. Chen, can you truly not write about the story of my master and Island Lord Liu of Pearl Hairpin Isle?”

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “Alright, next time I visit your manor, I’ll listen to Ma Yuanzhi’s old stories.”

Although Hongsu’s face was old and lined with wrinkles, and for some reason, it had a thick aura of yin energy concentrated on her face, making her look so ugly, her natural beauty wouldn’t be bad if she absorbed the spiritual energy of immortal coins. Moreover, she had a pair of rather intelligent eyes. She blinked them and mustered her courage to softly ask, “Mr. Chen is deliberately refusing my master, isn’t he? Because you guessed that my master would have this servant come to you again, so as to give this servant such a great credit, right?”

Chen Ping’an put a finger to his lips, signaling that as long as heaven, earth, you, and I knew, that would suffice.

Under the moonlight, the woman smiled radiantly amidst the clear moonlight.

Hongsu looked at the somewhat thin young man before her, held up a pot of wine in her hand, sealed with yellow paper and tied with a red string. She softly smiled and said, “It’s nothing valuable. It’s called Yellow Vine Wine, brewed from glutinous rice and japonica rice. It’s the official wine of my hometown, most popular among women, and is also affectionately called ‘Snack Wine.’ I chatted with Mr. Chen a lot last time and forgot about this. I asked someone to buy some, and it was just delivered to the island. If Mr. Chen gets used to drinking it, I’ll move it over and give it all to you.”

She suddenly realized the impropriety of her words and quickly said, “Just now, this servant said that women like to drink it, but in fact, the men in my hometown also like to drink it.”

Chen Ping’an took the pot of wine, smiling and nodding, “Okay, if I get used to drinking it, I’ll go to the Vermillion String Manor to ask you for it.”

After Hongsu left.

Chen Ping’an not only didn’t drink the wine but also put the pot into his miniature world. He didn’t dare to drink it.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Hongsu, but that he didn’t trust Green Gorge Isle and Book Brief Lake. Even if this pot of wine was fine, once he asked for more, he had no idea which pot might have a problem. So in the end, Chen Ping’an would definitely have to tell the doorkeeper of the Vermillion String Manor that the wine was mild and not suitable for him. Chen Ping’an didn’t think he was similar to Gu Can in this regard.

For that one possibility, Gu Can could kill ten thousand people without hesitation.

Chen Ping’an was also afraid of that one possibility and could only temporarily shelve and seal away Hongsu’s kindness.

However, although the two seemed similar, it was just a similar “one,” and the great differences stemmed from it.

As long as Gu Can stubbornly clung to his “one,” the tug-of-war between Chen Ping’an and Gu Can’s minds was destined to fail in pulling Gu Can over to his side.

Chen Ping’an had also temporarily given up.

Even the most fundamental mindsets with which the two viewed the world were different. No matter how much you tried to explain, it would be useless.

So Gu Can had never seen the time Chen Ping’an spent with the four people in the Lotus Root Paradise painting, nor had he seen the undercurrents, the lurking murderous intent, and the eventual amicable separation, and that they would eventually meet again.

It might not be suitable for Book Brief Lake and Gu Can, but Gu Can had ultimately overlooked one possibility.

After gradually familiarizing himself with some of the high and low, complex and intertwined veins of Book Brief Lake, Chen Ping’an believed that if Gu Can put some of his mind outside of killing, even if it was just learning Liu Zhi茂’s methods of winning people’s hearts and cultivating power, Gu Can and his mother could live better and longer in Book Brief Lake.

It was just that Chen Ping’an now saw more, thought more, but no longer had the energy to speak these “nonsense” words.

Not saying it didn’t mean not doing it.

On the contrary, Chen Ping’an needed to do even more things.

If he had exhausted all the reasoning, and Gu Can still didn’t know he was wrong, Chen Ping’an could only take a step back and stop him from making mistakes.

As long as he was in Book Brief Lake, living in front of the Green Gorge Isle mountain gate as an accountant, he could at least try to prevent Gu Can from continuing to make major mistakes.

Since Gu Can didn’t know he was wrong and firmly believed that he was the most correct, he naturally wouldn’t change his mistakes. Chen Ping’an repaid both the great kindness of a meal and a martial arts manual, two great kindnesses.

Once, because of a past hurdle in his heart, he had to shatter his golden literary star to try to stay in Book Brief Lake with the least “peace of mind.” Everything he did next was to correct Gu Can’s mistakes.

This was a very simple sequence.

It was just not easy to do, especially difficult in the first step, how Chen Ping’an convinced himself that the night the golden literary star shattered, and he bid farewell to the golden Confucian robe little man with a bow, was the necessary price.

In this world, reasoning seems easy but is actually the most difficult. The difficulty lies in whether or not to reason with the need to pay the price, and after questioning and answering one’s own conscience, if one still decides to reason, then the price paid is often unknown, and one suffers the bitterness alone, unable to tell others.

In addition to these two things, Chen Ping’an needed to repair his own state of mind even more.

He couldn’t fix it halfway and collapse himself first.

Chen Ping’an walked out of the house, this time not forgetting to extinguish the two lamps on the desk and dining table.

Passing the Green Gorge Isle mountain gate, he came to the ferry, where Chen Ping’an’s ferryboat was moored. Standing by the lake, Chen Ping’an didn’t carry his immortal sword and only wore a blue robe.

Heaven and earth were lonely, there was no one around, and the lake seemed to be covered with碎银子 (crushed silver), the night wind was slightly cold after entering winter.

After Chen Ping’an had entered the fifth realm of martial arts and especially after wearing the golden jade liquid robe, he finally felt the long-lost human seasons and temperature tonight.
As he journeyed further into the pugilistic world, and especially after witnessing more of the officialdom’s ways and the scenery of the mountains, Chen Ping’an grew increasingly admiring of Master Ruan’s views on the relationship between master and disciple, and of Cui Dongshan’s lesson on the game outside the game.

Ruan Qiong did not accept disciples so that they would cheer him on during disputes, vehemently attacking his opponents, or blindly throwing themselves into battle regardless of right or wrong.

Ruan Qiong once said, “I only accept disciples who are kindred spirits, not those who merely know how to serve me and sacrifice their lives.”

The difficulty in life lies in the inability to reconcile oneself, and even more so when the most important people cause this irreconcilability.

However, this is merely the difficulty faced by good people.

The truth is that most people never consider these things.

“If the world strikes me, why can’t I strike back? If the world dares to bloody my face with a punch, making me unhappy, I will surely crush it to pieces, regardless of whether innocents are harmed or if they deserve it.”

This is wrong.

Cultivating strength is the foundation of existence, while cultivating the heart is the path to ascension.

On the Grand Dao, whether one travels with a sword or studies with books, one must occasionally yield to others.

Chen Ping’an’s face was filled with sorrow, feeling that these words could only be kept to himself, as no one would listen.

Chen Ping’an’s mind stirred.

He pondered for a moment.

He took out a piece of charcoal from his mustard seed pouch.

He drew a large circle on the ferry landing.

Then, he bent down and slowly drew a straight line through the middle of the circle, dividing it in half.

Chen Ping’an squatted beside the line, not moving for a long time, his brow furrowed.

The dispirited accountant had no choice but to take down his sword-nurturing gourd from his waist and take a sip of Black Crow wine to invigorate himself.

Only then did he write the words “Good” and “Evil” on either side of the straight line.

Chen Ping’an was about to take a step forward tonight on the word “One,” where he had once paused on his journey of self-discovery, unwilling to delve deeper or unable to investigate thoroughly.

Just like the straw sandal-wearing boy from Mud Bottle Lane, walking on the covered bridge in those years.

Chen Ping’an squatted on the ground, gently writing the words “People as the Foundation” between “Good” and “Evil” on the line, murmuring, “For now, I can only think this much.”

Chen Ping’an closed his eyes, took another sip of wine, and after opening his eyes, stood up, striding to the edge of the “Good” semicircle. In one breath, he went to the other end of the “Evil” semicircle, drawing a diagonal line, moving, and drawing another diagonal line from bottom to top.

Finally, the circle had been divided into six territories by Chen Ping’an, with only the center point intersecting.

After this, Chen Ping’an seemed to suddenly understand. He quickly walked to the central area of the “Good” semicircle, where the three territories were located. With charcoal in hand, he wrote swiftly, talking to himself, “If this is a sincere heart inclined towards goodness, and it is the most steadfast, with a mind not easily moved, then for the people in this area, the teachings of the Three Religions, the Hundred Schools of Thought, or even those who have never read or written, teaching them that ‘Books hold houses of gold, books hold stores of grain,’ ‘Cultivate oneself, regulate the family, govern the state, and pacify the world,’ that is the best knowledge, because they can hear it, and even without any sage painstakingly explaining the principles, because these people are willing to listen and willing to hear the Way and act on it, no matter how difficult the world may be, they will uphold their original intention!”

Chen Ping’an quickly got up and retreated to the central area of the “Evil” semicircle, which was “diametrically opposed” to the area of the “Good” semicircle filled with charcoal characters.

He squatted down, writing rapidly with the charcoal, murmuring, “Human nature is inherently evil, this evil is not entirely derogatory, but rather explains another innate nature in the human heart, which is to instinctively perceive the ‘One’ in the world, to fight and snatch, to maximize the preservation of one’s own interests. Unlike the former, which can entrust life and death to the Confucian Three Imperishables, in addition to incense and offspring, here, ‘I’ am the entire world, when I die, the world dies, when I live, the world lives. The individual ‘I,’ this small ‘One,’ is not lighter in weight than the entire world, this large ‘One.’ Zhu Lian’s explanation of why he was unwilling to kill one person to save the world is precisely this principle! It’s also not derogatory, it’s just pure human nature. Although I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I believe that it also once propelled the world forward.”

“People whose minds are entirely ‘blooming and bearing fruit’ in this area can, at certain critical moments, say things like ‘After I die, I don’t care if the flood drowns the world,’ ‘I would rather betray the world than let the world betray me,’ and ‘The sun sets, the road is long, and I act in reverse.’ But this nature, which is possessed by almost all living things in the world, may very well be the foundation of our ‘human’ existence, at least one of them. This is what explains why I couldn’t understand before, why so many ‘ungood’ people, cultivating the Dao to become immortals, are still unimpeded, and can even live better than so-called good people. Because Heaven and Earth nurture all things without partiality, and do not necessarily determine life and death based on the ‘good’ or ‘evil’ of ‘humans.'”

After taking a big gulp of wine.

Chen Ping’an got up and walked to the far right side of the upper semicircle. “The hearts of the people here are not as resilient as those of their neighbors to the right. They are more wavering, but still lean towards goodness, but will change according to the person, place, and time, with various changes. Therefore, they need the Three Religions and the Hundred Schools of Thought to teach them earnestly with ‘Jade must be carved to become a vessel, a person must learn to know,’ warn them with ‘People are doing, Heaven is watching,’ and encourage them with ‘Virtue in this life brings blessings in the next, suffering in this life brings blessings in the next.'”

As Chen Ping’an wrote this, he had another thought and came to the vicinity of the words “Good” and “Evil” near the center of the circle. He slowly added two sentences with charcoal, writing above, “Willing to believe that life is not all about ‘bartering.'” And below, he wrote, “If any giving does not have a substantial return, then it is a loss to the benefit of ‘I,’ this ‘One.'”
Chen Ping’an put away the charcoal pencil, murmuring, “Once this person perceives damage, deep within their heart, there will be immense doubt and anxiety. They will begin to look around, thinking they must reclaim what was lost from elsewhere, and extract even more. This explains why Shujian Lake is so chaotic, with everyone struggling so hard. And it explains what I was thinking earlier, why so many people, after taking a punch somewhere in the world, must then kick and punch in even more places, completely disregarding the lives of others. It’s not just about surviving. Like Gu Can, even though he has clearly survived well, he will still follow this line of thinking, becoming someone who can say ‘I enjoy killing.’ It’s not just the environment of Shujian Lake that creates this, but the furrows in Gu Can’s heart, which are divided in this way. When he has the opportunity to access a larger world, for example, when I gave him the Small Loach and he came to Shujian Lake, Gu Can will naturally seize more of what belongs to others – money, life – at any cost.”

Chen Ping’an moved to the leftmost side of the upper semicircle. “The hearts of people here are the most disordered. They want to do good but don’t know how, they have the will to do evil but may not dare. So, they are most likely to feel that ‘studying is useless’ and ‘reasoning misleads me.’ Although they are in this upper semicircle, they can still easily collapse into evil. Therefore, the world has so many ‘hypocritical moralists.’ Even the Buddha in the Buddhist scriptures worries about the arrival of the end of Dharma. People here drift with the current, living very hard, perhaps the hardest. What I said to Gu Can earlier, the goodness of the world’s principles, the true freedom of the strong, lies in being able to protect this group of people, so that they don’t have to worry about the middle group in the lower semicircle, because of the latter’s recklessness, suffering many undeserved disasters, and don’t have to fear that all the wealth accumulated through hard work will be destroyed overnight, so that these people, even if they don’t use reason, even if they don’t know too many principles, even if they are occasionally unreasonable, slightly shaking the orderly, originally stable wooden chair that the Confucians have built, can still live well.”

Chen Ping’an got up and moved to the rightmost side of the lower semicircle, corresponding to the previous position. He slowly wrote: “The hearts of people here, telling them to lay down the butcher knife and become a Buddha, or that it’s never too late to mend one’s ways, is destined to be just empty talk with those near the center.”

Although there was still a large blank space on the leftmost side of the lower semicircle, Chen Ping’an’s face was already pale, showing signs of exhaustion. After taking a big gulp of wine, he stood up unsteadily. The charcoal in his hand had been worn down to the size of a fingernail. Chen Ping’an steadied his mind, his fingers trembling. He couldn’t write anymore. Chen Ping’an braced himself, raised his arm, wiped the sweat from his forehead, wanting to squat down and continue writing, even if it was just one more word, but just as he bent down, he plopped onto the ground.

Chen Ping’an casually placed the Sword Nurturing Gourd on the ground. He let go of the remaining bit of charcoal, and it rolled onto the ground. He then lay on his back on the ferry landing.

“Confucianism proposes a sense of compassion, Buddhism promotes compassion, but we are in this world, and it is still difficult to do, let alone do these two things all the time. On the contrary, the ‘child’s heart’ that the Sub-Sage first spoke of, and the Taoist ancestor’s so-called ‘returning to simplicity and returning to infancy,’ seem to be more…”

Chen Ping’an struggled to stand up, exiting the incomplete circle of charcoal words, staring intently at the big circle. Finally, his gaze focused on the center of the circle, on the words ‘Good and Evil’ that he had written earlier.

Chen Ping’an staggered, reaching out a hand, as if to grasp the entire circle.

He almost didn’t know what he was saying anymore.

At this moment, he had forgotten his form and body.

“Isn’t it possible to not even talk about good and evil? Just talk about the division between gods and humans? Original nature? Otherwise, this circle is still difficult to truly stand firm.”

“Does this require… lifting it upwards? Instead of being bound by bookish principles, or even confined to Confucian learning, simply expanding this circle? But raising it upwards a little?”

“If so, then I understand. It’s not at all what I had figured out before. It’s not that the principles of the world have thresholds, dividing high and low. But that walking around this circle, constantly looking, it is that the heart has left and right differences. Similarly, it is not that someone’s heart being in a different place means that there is a difference in height, a difference between clouds and mud. Therefore, the three sages, each did, the so-called power of persuasion, is to ‘move mountains and overturn seas’, pulling people’s hearts from different territories into the areas they want.”

“If, instead of looking upwards first, not walking on the flat ground around the circle, just using the sequence, taking a step back to look, and not mentioning various original intentions, only talking about the true essence of the world, Confucian learning is expanding and solidifying the territory of ‘real objects’, while Taoism is raising the world upwards, allowing us humans to be higher than all other sentient beings.”

Chen Ping’an closed his eyes, took out a bamboo slip, on which was engraved a great scholar’s desolate yet beautiful text. At the time, it just seemed like a strange but transparent idea, but now, delving deeper, it actually contained some Taoist truths, “A basin of water covers the ground, mustard floats on the water, ants cling to the mustard seed, thinking it is the end of the world. In a moment, the water dries up, and they realize that the roads are open, and there is nowhere they cannot go.”

“What Taoism seeks is not for us people to be those existences whose hearts are as low as ants. We must look at the world from a higher place. We must be different from the world’s birds and beasts, and flowers and trees.”

“Then what about Buddhism…”

Chen Ping’an stretched out his hands and drew a circle, “Coordinating with the breadth of Confucianism and the height of Taoism, uniting the ten directions of the world into one, without omissions.”

Chen Ping’an finally murmured, “That one, do I know a little bit now?”

With a crash, the exhausted accountant, who had spent all his energy and spirit, fell backwards, closed his eyes, his face full of tears, wiped his face, reached out a palm, raised it slightly, his tearful vision blurred, through the gaps between his fingers, dazed, half-asleep, already extremely mentally exhausted, but deep in his heart, full of joy, he muttered, “Clouds disperse, the sky clears, who decorates it? The sky and sea are inherently clear.”

Chen Ping’an closed his eyes, slowly fell asleep, a smile on his lips, whispering, “So, not distinguishing between good and evil in people’s hearts, thinking this can also bring a smile.”
It was when Chen Ping’an first arrived at Jianjian Lake, boldly lying down at this ferry, on the large drawn circle with a charcoal stroke that hadn’t been erased yet. He was fast asleep, snoring sweetly on Qingxia Island.

At some unknown time,

A green-robed man, still unconstrained, and a green-clothed maiden with a ponytail, increasingly alluring, arrived at the ferry almost simultaneously.

They exchanged no words, not even a glance.

The scholar who hadn’t penned a reply at the Ancestral Hall of Mount Taiping, but had come to a foreign land in person, picked up Chen Ping’an’s charcoal. He squatted down at the leftmost side beneath the circle, wanting to write, but hesitated. However, he showed no frustration, his eyes filled with mirth. “With a mountain before me, does it mean I, a gentleman of the academy from yesteryear, must detour?”

The green-clothed maiden stood outside the circle at the end of the straight line, nibbling on a new pastry from the Green Paulownia City beside Jianjian Lake, mumbling indistinctly, “The division between mortal and god is still a little lacking, not fully explained.”

The scholar, charcoal in hand, raised his head, looked around, and tsked. “What a ‘dare to be bold in the face of ten thousand difficulties,’ what a ‘courage unburdened by sobriety.'”

The green-clothed maiden also spoke a line, “A clear conscience, illuminates all dharmas.”

Only then did he turn to look at the ponytail-wearing maiden, nibbling daintily on the pastry. “Don’t you dare take advantage of Chen Ping’an while he’s asleep. But if the maiden insists, I, Zhong Kui, can turn my back. That’s what they call a gentleman aiding in another’s success!”

She finally looked at him, puzzled. “You’re called Zhong Kui? You, this… ghost, are rather strange. I can’t understand you.”

Zhong Kui reached around his shoulder, pointing at the snoring accountant. “That fellow understands me, so I came.”

Zhong Kui gazed at Jianjian Lake, which appeared vastly different in his eyes compared to others, and muttered, “Can I, Zhong Kui, be the only gentleman in the world? What a cesspool this world would be if that were the case?”

Ruan Xiu’s expression was serene. “I know you want to help him, but I advise you, don’t stay to help him. It will be counterproductive.”

Zhong Kui asked, “Really?”

Ruan Xiu retorted, “Do you believe me?”

Zhong Kui nodded.

Ruan Xiu finished the pastry, dusted her hands, and left.

Zhong Kui pondered for a moment, gently placed the charcoal back where it was, stood up, and wrote in the air, only eight words over Jianjian Lake. Then he followed and left, returning to Tongye Continent.

Zhong Kui, no longer a gentleman of the academy, came happily and left happily.

The eight words he left behind were: “All things are suitable, nothing is forbidden.”