Chen Ping’an arrived at the gate and removed his bamboo hat.

Senior Song was still dressed in a black robe, but he no longer carried a sword and looked much older.

The Sword Saint of Shushui Kingdom had an incredulous expression, asking with a heavy accent, “Little rascal?”

Chen Ping’an didn’t know whether to nod or shake his head, finally opting for a nod.

Song Yushao laughed heartily, heavily patting Chen Ping’an on the shoulder, “Good lad, you’ve grown so tall, I almost didn’t recognize you. Why aren’t you wearing straw sandals and carrying a bamboo crate? I might have recognized you at a glance.”

Chen Ping’an smiled and asked, “Shall we go eat hot pot?”

Song Yushao didn’t answer the question, instead asking, “What happened in the town? Su Lang’s sword qi suddenly vanished. Was that you?”

Chen Ping’an nodded, “I stopped him, sent that Su Lang back to the town. He shouldn’t bother you again, Senior.”

He didn’t make up a random reason, as Senior Song was a seasoned veteran he deeply admired and wouldn’t be easily fooled.

However, the truth often sounds false, and falsehoods sound true.

The old gatekeeper didn’t believe it, and neither did Song Yushao’s grandson, Song Fengshan, nor his wife, Liu Qian.

Only Song Yushao believed it, grabbing Chen Ping’an’s arm, “Now that the matter is settled, let’s go inside. What’s the rush for hot pot? After you’ve had hot pot, settled your accounts, and dusted yourself off, you’ll be leaving. Would I have the heart to stop you? Besides, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

Song Fengshan and Liu Qian exchanged glances.

The old gatekeeper even secretly swallowed his saliva.

As Chen Ping’an was about to pass the old gatekeeper, he stopped, took a step back, and smiled, “See? I told you I was familiar with your manor. Don’t stop me next time, or I’ll just climb over the wall.”

The old gatekeeper didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, cupping his fist in apology, “Young Master Chen, I was blind earlier. I apologize for the offense.”

Chen Ping’an made a gesture of raising a cup to drink.

The old gatekeeper understood, giving Chen Ping’an a thumbs up.

Song Yushao pulled Chen Ping’an away.

Song Fengshan didn’t immediately follow, quietly asking, “Old Qi, what’s going on?”

The old gatekeeper then recounted the earlier joke, making his own embarrassment sound quite amusing.

Song Fengshan raised a finger, rubbing his brow.

Liu Qian laughed, “Isn’t it great? It’ll become a wonderful tale in the martial world.”

The old gatekeeper laughed unreservedly.

In the manor’s hall, they all took their seats, and Liu Qian personally poured tea.

Chen Ping’an took a sip of tea and curiously asked, “Chu Hao didn’t die back then?”

Song Fengshan shook his head, “He’s as dead as can be. Han Yuanshan simply assumed his identity. Han Yuanshan has always been skilled at disguise.”

Chen Ping’an understood.

Of the original Four Fiends of Shushui Kingdom, the ghostly woman of the ancient temple, Wei Wei, Han Yuanshan, the demonic figure killed at the Sword Water Manor by the Confucian scholar Zhou Ju, the last one was right before his eyes: Song Fengshan’s wife, Liu Qian.

Liu Qian did it for her husband, Song Fengshan, and to elevate the reputation of Sword Water Manor in the martial world.

As for the Han clan noble, Han Yuanshan, he was ambitious, cunning, and capable. He wanted to leverage the power of a kingdom’s martial world to climb to the central government. What Han Yuanshan wanted to do beyond that was unimaginable.

Han Yuanshan being able to accomplish such a feat, wielding power in the Shushui Kingdom’s court and martial world as Chu Hao, didn’t surprise Chen Ping’an. But since Song Fengshan and Liu Qian held such a significant secret, Han Yuanshan wasn’t the real Chu Hao, why was he so aggressively targeting Sword Water Manor? Wasn’t Han Yuanshan afraid that the manor would completely expose his identity?

Song Fengshan seemed to see through Chen Ping’an’s confusion, explaining with a smile, “It’s just a show for others to see, a business deal. ‘Chu Hao’ wants to use this to pave the way for the Hengdao Manor, uniting the martial world. Han Yuanshan knows that Sword Water Manor won’t become the court’s lapdog, so he’s vigorously supporting Wang Yiran of Hengdao Manor. We have no objections to this. Wang Yiran cares about the title of the number one sect in the martial world, but we don’t. We just want to take this opportunity to find a scenic place to escape the mundane world. In exchange, Han Yuanshan will use the Shushui Kingdom’s name to allocate a piece of land on the mountain for us to build a new manor. It’s a geomantically blessed place that Grandfather has long admired. Han Yuanshan will try to obtain an imperial decree for my wife to become a River God. I’ll decline all social engagements, refuse all favors in the martial world, and focus on practicing my sword.”

Liu Qian was no ordinary woman, with both status and intelligence.

Where there’s life, there’s hope.

Chen Ping’an hummed in agreement, “Taking a step back opens up a whole new world. Brother Song can focus on the sword path, and Sister-in-law can have a long and prosperous future. Moreover, the ancestral land being chosen as the site for a mountain god temple is also a considerable act of merit, bringing ancestral blessings to descendants. But the only thing to be careful about is that you, Senior, and Brother Song, will need to come here from time to time to check. If the new Mountain God’s incense is impure, you need to cut ties early. Of course, that’s the worst-case scenario.”

Song Yushao and Song Fengshan smiled at each other.

Chen Ping’an understood. He had probably been meddling, as Senior Song and Song Fengshan were both familiar with matters of cultivation. Especially Senior Song, who enjoyed traveling with his sword. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to purchase a sword for Song Fengshan from the immortal ferry at Earth Dragon Mountain.

Chen Ping’an silently told himself not to rush things and to stay at the manor for a few more days.

Ultimately, it was the Song family’s own affairs, and Chen Ping’an, being a newcomer, shouldn’t say too much or ask too many questions.

In Chen Ping’an’s mind, regardless of how others navigated the martial world, his would not be about punching back Su Lang today, eating hot pot with Song Yushao tomorrow, and flying north on his sword the day after. In the meantime, he wouldn’t think about anything, as if all that mattered was the fastest punch, the fastest sword flight, drinking happily, eating hot pot with pleasure, learning martial arts and swordsmanship, achieving some success, and living a simple, increasingly effortless life.

It shouldn’t be like that.

Perhaps things would be different in the unfamiliar Northern Continent, with fewer concerns.

So, after meeting, he could only ask more about other people’s affairs to indirectly deduce some things about the Song family.

But one thing Chen Ping’an was certain of: giving up the family’s ancestral land here was a bold decision, and a significant matter.
It was especially difficult to get Senior Song to agree to this.

For the older generation of martial artists, reputation is paramount. Senior Song is a seasoned veteran, and Wang Yiran could also be considered one, but not Su Lang, the Azure Bamboo Sword Immortal of Songxi.

For one thing, Su Lang’s appearance this time, drawing his sword in the small town, was highly irregular.

According to the old rules passed down through generations in the martial world, since Sword Saint Song of Shushui had publicly refused Su Lang’s challenge without any reason or excuse, and without suggesting a rematch in a few years, it was essentially Song Yushao voluntarily relinquishing the title of the foremost swordsman. It was like a chess player conceding defeat, just without uttering the words “I lose.” For old-timers like Song Yushao, what was being handed over wasn’t just a title, but a lifetime of accumulated reputation and honor, practically giving away half their life.

Song Yushao simply smiled at Chen Ping’an, thinking, “That little rascal back then has really come a long way.” He wondered if Chen Ping’an’s alcohol tolerance had improved, if he could handle spicy food now, and if he still believed that drinking could alleviate the heat. The old man was especially curious if Chen Ping’an had succeeded with that girl he was so hung up on back then, or if his own jinx had come true, resulting in a “you’re a good person” rejection.

After hearing Song Fengshan’s somewhat reasonable explanation, Chen Ping’an was still puzzled and couldn’t help but ask, “Then what’s the deal with Su Lang? I saw the aura he exuded in the small town, preparing to draw his sword. It was definitely with the intent to fight to the death with the senior, not just to determine the superiority of their swordsmanship.”

This time, Song Yushao personally enlightened Chen Ping’an: “Back then, the Sword God of Caiyi, whom I most respected, was probably at Su Lang’s current level. Su Lang is incredibly talented. After breaking through, he wants to find a whetstone to help him solidify his realm. After surveying a dozen or so countries, I, Song Yushao, just happen to wield a sword, have enough reputation, and am also a realm below Su Lang… or perhaps half a realm. Of course, I’m the perfect target for him to sharpen his sword.”

Song Yushao wasn’t actually that interested in drinking tea, but now he rarely drank alcohol, only making exceptions during festivals. His grandson and granddaughter-in-law were strict, like guarding against a thief. Helpless, he treated the tea as if it were the most insipid wine, better than nothing.

The old man continued, “But Su Lang’s antics put me in a dilemma. If I agreed to fight him, whether I lost or died wouldn’t matter much, but it would ruin our deal with Han Yuanshan.”

At this point, Song Yushao took a sip of tea, and Liu Qian quickly got up to refill his cup.

Song Yushao complained a little, “Even drinking several catties of tea, there’s still no taste of wine. Now that Chen Ping’an is here, is it right to entertain him with tea?”

Liu Qian was about to sit down, but since her grandfather had spoken, she remained standing and said with a smile, “Grandfather, Fengshan is in charge of this matter.”

Song Fengshan said with a straight face, “This year, Grandfather has already finished his alcohol allowance for the Mid-Autumn Festival, Winter Solstice, and Little New Year.”

Song Yushao sighed and didn’t insist.

Chen Ping’an was somewhat pleased, seeing that the relationship between the grandfather and grandson was now harmonious, no longer with the irresolvable knots they once had.

Song Yushao continued the previous topic, with a hint of self-deprecation, “If I lose, given the current character of the martial artists in Shushui, countless people will definitely kick us when we’re down. Even if we move, it won’t be peaceful. Everyone will want to step on us, at the very least, spit on us. If I die, perhaps Han Yuanshan will simply renege on the deal and let Wang Yiran annex Swordwater Manor. The Sword Saint of Shushui is now worthless. It’s just a pity that Su Lang is too eager to show off, gaining empty fame but still wanting to seize real benefits. It’s human nature, but it’s somewhat against the old rules of the martial world. However, talking about old rules now is a joke.”

Song Fengshan hesitated to speak.

Song Yushao waved his hand and said with a smile, “Don’t overthink it. I’m just grumbling in front of Chen Ping’an. What kind of temper do I have? Don’t you know? If I really couldn’t let go of these superficial things, I wouldn’t have agreed to do business with Han Yuanshan in the first place. In the end, it’s still because my skills are inferior. I’ve been unable to break through that bottleneck my entire life, which gave Su Lang the opportunity to surpass me. Anyone who practices swordsmanship wants to be the best, with no one to compare to.”

Song Yushao actively spoke well of Su Lang, and then lamented the state of the martial world, though there was no one left to listen. “In the past, the Sword God of Caiyi was the most respected in the martial world of a dozen or so countries. Even if Lin Gushan of Guyu wasn’t good at interpersonal relations, and even if I, Song Yushao, was incompetent and liked to travel around, and Su Lang was full of vigor and ambition, the martial world was still vibrant. No matter who one learned from, it was a path. Now that the old Sword God is dead, Lin Gushan is also dead, and I’m half-dead. Only Su Lang is left. If Su Lang wants to rise to the top, as long as his swordsmanship reaches that level, no one can stop him. I’m just afraid that Su Lang will set a bad precedent, that in the future, the young people practicing swordsmanship in the martial world will lack that drive, feeling that as long as their swordsmanship is high enough, the rules are just a fart, and they can kill whoever they want. It’s like… you, Chen Ping’an, or Song Fengshan, being incredibly wealthy. If you want, you can spend a fortune in a brothel, embracing the most beautiful and expensive courtesans. But that doesn’t mean that when you see a decent woman on the street, you can humiliate her with money and bully her with power…”

Chen Ping’an said helplessly, “I haven’t been to a brothel.”

Seeing Liu Qian lowered her head to drink tea, a faint smile on her lips, Song Fengshan quickly chimed in, “Neither have I, definitely not!”

The old ginger is still spicier, setting traps without consultation. Song Yushao turned his head and smilingly reminded Liu Qian, “If a man has truly never been to a brothel or doesn’t have that kind of inclination, he wouldn’t be so insistent. He would just smile and brush it off lightly.”

Liu Qian nodded gently and said softly, “It seems so.”

Chen Ping’an and Song Fengshan exchanged glances, but Song Fengshan’s eyes were filled with grievance, and blame. “It’s all because of you, Chen Ping’an!”

“How dare you blame me? You, Song Fengshan, have been in the martial world for so many years, how many have I? ” Chen Ping’an blinked and only said half a sentence, “Anyway, I really haven’t been there.”

Song Fengshan was stunned.

“This guy is devious!”

Liu Qian covered her mouth and laughed.

Song Yushao laughed heartily, “It seems you haven’t been wasting your time in the martial world these years, you little rascal.”
Song Fengshan shook his head, turning to his wife and saying, “Bring some wine, or I’ll feel terrible.”

Liu Qian rose to fetch the wine.

Song Yushao, taking advantage of the situation, spoke even louder.

Song Fengshan didn’t drink much, and Liu Qian only took a symbolic sip.

The two jars of Zhuangzi’s homemade wine, aged for over five years, were all consumed by Song Yushao and Chen Ping’an.

Upon hearing that Chen Ping’an planned to leave the day after tomorrow, Song Yushao waved his hand, “Bring two more jars! As long as this greenhorn drinks until he’s passed out, not only the day after tomorrow, but he can scram immediately after finishing the wine!”

Liu Qian didn’t hesitate and went to get more wine.

Chen Ping’an said helplessly, “Then I’ll leave two days after that. Senior Song, I really have matters to attend to. I need to catch a transcontinental ferry to Northern俱蘆洲 (Bei Ju Lu Zhou). If I miss it, I’ll have to wait at least a month or two.”

Song Yushao glared, “Then why not leave now? Can’t even spare a day or two? Is my, Song Yushao’s, face too small, or is your, Chen Ping’an’s, face too big now?”

Chen Ping’an muttered, “It’s said that urging someone to drink at the table is the most telling of Jianghu righteousness.”

Song Yushao slammed the table, “Drink your wine! Stop yapping. I bet that girl won’t like you unless she has bad eyesight. You’re the kind of man who hesitates even when drinking! What’s wrong, no chance?”

Hearing this, Chen Ping’an’s mood brightened considerably. His eyes shone, and he was filled with vigor, though he slurred his words a bit. “Drink, drink! Are you afraid of you? Senior Song, you really screwed me over with those words back then, scared me half to death, but fortunately, it didn’t matter in the slightest… Come, come, let’s drink this bowl first. Honestly, your tolerance isn’t as good as it used to be, Senior. Just a few bowls and your face is already flushed, like you’ve applied rouge…”

Song Yushao blew his beard and glared. “If you’re so good, don’t shake your hand while drinking! Hold it steady! If you spill even a drop, you’ll have less Jianghu sentiment!”

Song Fengshan and Liu Qian secretly enjoyed the show. They were still young. The old Jianghu masters had endless tricks for urging people to drink at the table, impossible to guard against.

The old and the young drank until the heavens and earth spun.

In the end, in Song Fengshan and Liu Qian’s eyes, both of them had taken off their shoes and were sitting cross-legged on their chairs.

Fortunately, Song Fengshan was in control and refused to give them any more wine, otherwise, they probably would have drunk until they vomited, and then drunk again after vomiting.

Chen Ping’an still stayed in the old house, closer to the mountain pavilion and waterfall.

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Song Yushao wasn’t doing much better. He staggered back to his residence and was soon snoring loudly.

Chen Ping’an was truly drunk, lying in bed with his eyes closed, barely maintaining a trace of clarity.

Senior Song’s spirits were troubled.

Otherwise, the old Sword Saint of Shushui Country, whom he had met back then, even if he had to agree to Han Yuanshan out of consideration for his junior’s future, and then had to refuse Su Lang’s challenge due to the situation, would never have been in such a state of mind when meeting Chen Ping’an today.

He wouldn’t have so readily admitted his age and resigned himself to fate.

But Chen Ping’an didn’t directly ask. No matter how much wine he drank, he didn’t mention it.

Just because the relationship is good and you drink too much, doesn’t mean you can really say anything without restraint.

So many unintentional words from the closest people can become a lifelong grudge.

Towards the end of the drinking…

Song Yushao suddenly glanced at the bamboo hat placed on the small table, and then at the long sword Chen Ping’an carried on his back, asking, “The sword you’re carrying, is it good?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “It’s good.”

Song Yushao smiled. “Then that’s good.”

Chen Ping’an was confused and didn’t think much about it, too drunk to care.

Song Fengshan and Liu Qian looked a bit dejected, but they hid it well, only fleetingly.

Chen Ping’an had a terrible headache from drinking, and he mumbled as he fell asleep.

*Have wine today, let’s be merry today, being drunk I’ll be immortal. Tomorrow brings sorrows, tomorrow brings worries, with ten thousand sorrows still there’s wine.*

Early in the morning, Chen Ping’an opened his eyes, got up, and after washing up, he walked along the quiet path to the waterfall.

Not to practice boxing, but to see the words he had secretly carved on the stone wall back then.

But at the mountain pavilion, he saw Song Fengshan, not Song Yushao.

Chen Ping’an walked over quickly, and Song Fengshan stood up to greet him.

Song Fengshan smiled, “Grandfather rarely drinks so unrestrainedly, he hasn’t woken up yet.”

Chen Ping’an felt a little guilty. He was silent for a moment and looked around, “Are you really not regretful about moving away from here?”

Song Fengshan grunted. “Of course, we’ll be a little reluctant, but this was Grandfather’s own idea. He actively had someone find Han Yuanshan. Actually, Liu Qian and I didn’t want to agree at first. Our initial idea was to take a step back, at most let that Wang Yiran, whom Grandfather also approves of, win a match in the sword and blade dispute, so that Wang Yiran could become the martial arts leader of Shushui Country. The Swordwater Manor definitely wouldn’t move. After all, the manor is Grandfather’s life’s work. But Grandfather didn’t agree, saying the manor is dead, people are alive, what’s there to let go of? You know Grandfather’s temper, we couldn’t change his mind.”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “Senior is like that, otherwise he wouldn’t have single-handedly stopped the thousands of troops of Shushui Country back then.”

Song Yushao was…

Very important to Chen Ping’an.

Some people, as long as they are still in Jianghu, then every thing they do is like holding up the wine pot of Jianghu, pouring a cup of wine for others. The cup is full of chivalry, allowing people to take the cup and drink freely.

Song Fengshan laughed, “Grandfather also has no attachment to the current Jianghu anymore, always saying it’s hard to find a friend to drink with these days, that’s why he’s like this.”

Seeming to realize that he had said something a bit heavy, Song Fengshan quickly joked, “Chen Ping’an, don’t be afraid to come to our new manor for a drink in the future just because Grandfather forced you to drink so much. Seriously, it’s also your fault, saying you’re leaving right away. Our Grandfather naturally wouldn’t really delay your matters, but at the table, old people are like that, especially in front of the younger generation, they don’t want to say anything soft, so they can only pull you to drink one more cup.”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “I understand that.”

Song Fengshan said, “To be honest, Wei Wei suddenly sent a flying sword to Liu Qian at the manor last night, but she only asked if you were at the manor now. It seems that if we answered truthfully, she would come here. I had Liu Qian pretend not to have received the flying sword, and after you left, reply saying you did come, but only came to drink with my grandfather.”
Chen Ping’an cupped his fist in thanks.

After drinking too much last night, Chen Ping’an roughly recounted his reunion with Wei Wei, one of the Four Fiends of Shushui Kingdom, but omitted the matter of the mountain deity.

That was a mess Chen Ping’an needed to clean up himself.

For example, after arriving at the immortal ferry of Dilong Mountain, he could find an opportunity to send a flying sword message to Wei Bo of Piyun Mountain, inquiring about the magnitude of the matter and, under normal circumstances, the standard reactions of Dali garrison officials and the local court.

Wei Bo was the true deity of the Northern Peak of Dali, and Shushui Kingdom in the central part of Bao Ping Continent was naturally not within the Northern Peak’s territory. It was precisely because of this that Chen Ping’an had drawn his sword so directly, otherwise, he would have shown mercy and used a more subtle approach.

Song Fengshan pointed toward the town, “Su Lang has already left with that sword-bearing maid. I believe a sensational tale will soon spread throughout the Jianghu of several nations: Su Lang fought a true mountain sword immortal to the death, and although defeated, he was still glorious.”

Chen Ping’an didn’t dwell on the exaggerated rumors, smiling, “I’ve never really understood why sword maids exist.”

The former palace consort was like that, and so was the Azure Bamboo Sword Immortal, Su Lang.

Song Fengshan looked somewhat embarrassed.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Song-dage also has such thoughts?”

Song Fengshan whispered, “I only dare to think about it in my heart.”

Chen Ping’an rubbed his chin. He had initially been puzzled, but when he put himself in Song Fengshan’s shoes, he immediately understood.

In any case, Chen Ping’an would never even consider it.

Chen Ping’an suddenly frowned. This Su Lang was being quite persistent.

Just then, the old steward, surnamed Chu, hurried over and stood outside the small pavilion, forcing a smile, “Azure Bamboo Sword Immortal, Su Lang, has arrived in secret and is outside the gate, requesting an audience with Chen-gongzi, saying he dares to trouble Chen-gongzi with something and will certainly repay him handsomely in the future.”

Song Fengshan pondered for a moment and understood the situation, sneering, “He’s pushing his luck twice now.”

Chen Ping’an smiled and waved his hand, “It’s alright, he drank so much fine wine from the manor as soon as he arrived.”

Song Fengshan shook his head, “Those are two separate matters!”

Chen Ping’an joked, “Song-dage, you can’t stop me.”

Song Fengshan smiled slightly, “Ten Song Fengshans couldn’t stop you, but you’ve already called me Song-dage…”

Before Song Fengshan could finish,

“Let’s go!”

Chen Ping’an had already brought his fingers together, lightly stroking the sword sheath. “Remember not to hurt anyone, but the commotion can be a bit bigger.”

The sword immortal was unsheathed.

It circled out of the mountain and water pavilion, soaring into the sky, a golden thread hanging in the air.

The sword energy caused thunder to rumble, and the sea of clouds above the Sword Qi Manor scattered.

Occasionally, the golden thread would quickly approach the manor lord, but would soon continue its ascent.

After a moment, Chen Ping’an looked up and smiled, “It’s returned.”

The long sword, like a dragon stirring up clouds and rain, fell swiftly to the ground as if commanded by an immortal and returned to its sheath.

Song Fengshan was speechless.

He knew that Chen Ping’an’s martial arts cultivation must be terrifying now, or he wouldn’t have been able to repel Su Lang, but Song Fengshan truly hadn’t expected it to be so frightening.

Chen Ping’an flipped his wrist and handed over a pot of Wuti wine, suppressing a smile, “You’ve already drunk the manor’s fine wine, so have some of mine. I’m not some old predecessor who deceives people by saying alcohol can relieve spiciness; this wine truly can alleviate the effects of alcohol.”

Song Fengshan opened the clay seal and sniffed, “Genuine immortal brew, this is truly fine wine.”

Chen Ping’an shook his head, “This kind of wine is only delicious, I don’t particularly crave it. If I can drink it, I will; if I can’t, I won’t think about it. But Song-dage, I’ve been thinking about your Jianshui Manor’s wine for many years.”

Song Fengshan picked up the wine pot, and Chen Ping’an picked up the sword-nurturing gourd. In unison, they said, “Let’s have one!”

Song Fengshan drank half a pot of wine and stopped, while Chen Ping’an stood up and said he was going to take a look at the waterfall.

Song Fengshan didn’t go with him.

After leaving the mountain and water pavilion together, Song Fengshan turned back, carrying another pot of Wuti wine, said to be from Shujian Lake, which he handed to the old steward, Grandpa Chu, who had come and gone. He said it was a gift from Chen Ping’an, and they would chat again later, and he would send more when they had finished it, but definitely not to save any. The old steward, who had a good relationship with Chen Ping’an back then, smiled broadly and accepted the wine pot, saying that as long as it was a gift from that young man, he would take it regardless of whether it was good or bad, and there was no need to be polite. The old steward said that the Azure Bamboo Sword Immortal had already left, and Su Lang had bowed deeply with his sword in hand before the manor gate before departing.

Liu Qian and Song Fengshan met the old steward halfway, calling out “Grandpa Chu,” and the old man left with a smile.

The couple hadn’t been walking long before Song Yushao approached.

Seeing his grandson, Song Fengshan smiled, “Grandfather, don’t worry, I won’t blab.”

Only then did Song Yushao pat his grandson’s shoulder and continue forward, heading toward the mountain and water pavilion that was some distance from the waterfall. After sitting down, he began to reminisce about the past. Elderly people easily fell into this pattern, sleeping late and waking up early. Young people often didn’t understand that all an old person thinks about are those old friends and stories. Young people often didn’t like to listen, so the old person could only think and remember on their own.

Chen Ping’an, in that waterside pavilion, broke the waterfall with a single punch and saw those words, a knowing smile on his face.

Turning around to look, he quickly left the waterfall and came to the outside of the small pavilion.

Song Yushao had already left the pavilion. “Let’s go eat hot pot.”

Chen Ping’an was somewhat shocked. “So early in the morning, the restaurants aren’t open yet, right?”

Song Yushao smiled, “Even if the name of the Sword Saint of Shushui Kingdom is worthless, eating a hot pot at my doorstep is still possible, right? Besides, it’s you, this lad, treating, and you’re not skimping on money. If the shopkeeper curses under his breath afterward, he’ll be cursing you.”

The two didn’t soar away like birds as they had before, but rather strolled along, an idea from Song Yushao.

Halfway there, the old steward, Chu, caught up with them, bringing the bamboo hat that Chen Ping’an had left in the house.

Chen Ping’an asked,