She sighed softly, “Why must one always live for others?”

The impact of Cui Cheng on Chen Ping’an in the matter of martial arts and fist practice was unimaginable.

Just now, half of those words were clearly Chen Ping’an making a solemn promise to the deceased Cui Cheng, separated by life and death, yet still echoing from afar.

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “It’s not like that. I’ve always been living for myself, but along the way, there are attachments. I have to let some respected people live on in my heart for a long time. If the world can’t remember, I will. And if there’s a chance, I’ll make people remember again.”

She fell into contemplation, recalling some extremely distant events.

After walking a distance, Chen Ping’an turned around and walked the same path again.

She followed, walking the same path back.

This was the flawlessness Chen Ping’an pursued, to prevent the sword spirit from traveling too far in the river of time, and to avoid any accidents.

There were too many unforeseen events in the world, impossible to stop. What will be, will be.

But at least on my side, Chen Ping’an, there won’t be too many complications arising from my negligence.

My greatest confidant was Qi, and he died because of me.

They sat on the city wall, just like back then, when they sat on the golden arched bridge.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Are you leaving?”

She said, “I could stay, but the Old Master who’s been waiting bitterly in Upside-Down Mountain might have to go to the Confucian Temple to plead guilty.”

Chen Ping’an said, “A brief separation is nothing, but don’t leave and never return. I might still be able to bear it, but it will ultimately be very painful, and I won’t be able to say anything, so it will only be more painful.”

She smiled and said, “I and my master, we’ve shared life and death for countless millennia.”

Chen Ping’an turned around and extended his palm.

She raised her hand, not to gently tap palms, but to grasp Chen Ping’an’s hand, shaking it lightly. “This is the second promise.”

Chen Ping’an nodded with a smile. “What I say, I will do.”

She withdrew her hand, gently patting her knees, and gazed at the barren world of the Savage Lands, scoffing, “It seems there are still a few old, undying acquaintances.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Then I’ll be extra careful.”

She said, “If I appear, those skulking ancient beings won’t dare kill you. At most, they’ll break your Bridge of Longevity, forcing you to start over, forcing my master and me onto an old path.”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “No matter what I think in the future, whether I change my mind or not, as of now, I refuse to walk that path at all costs.”

She laughed. “Understood.”

Chen Ping’an suddenly asked with a smile, “Do you know what my greatest strength is?”

She thought for a moment. “The ability to make choices.”

Just like back then, in the Old Master’s landscape painting, when he offered a sword to Mount Sui, Chen Ping’an made a choice between her and Ning Yao.

If he had been wrong, there would have been no subsequent events.

A person who flattered so-called experts and power was not worthy of drawing his sword for her.

Ten thousand years later in the human realm, how many people have soft knees and bent spines? Countless. These people should really see how the human ancestors of ten thousand years ago, in their suffering, cut through thorns and climbed high with their swords, seeking only death to pave the way for future generations.

It’s just that after these people died heroically, that humanistic brilliance, so different from divinity, also began to change, or rather, was obscured. The reason why the puppets and ants created by the gods were ants was because they possessed inherent inferiority, not just because the lifespan of the human race was short. Precisely because of this, they were initially regarded by the gods high above as ants under their feet that would never change, only providing incense continuously for the many gods, taking and plundering at will. Besides this, their lives were no different from weeds. At that time, some of the golden-bodied gods overlooking the earth actually noticed the changes in the human world, but because the matter of condensing and tempering golden bodies by relying on human incense involved the very foundation of the gods’ longevity, and the benefits were so great, unimaginable, it was simply an inexhaustible source. Therefore, some gods turned a blind eye, and some were indifferent, not feeling that it took much effort to crush a group of ants.

But the final outcome evolved to this point, of course, there were also accidental inevitabilities. For example, the strife between water and fire.

The biggest exception, of course, was her previous master, and the other few gods, willing to regard a small group of people as true comrades.

That was the beginning of human swordsmanship and myriad arts.

Chen Ping’an shook his head and said softly, “My heart is free.”

Then Chen Ping’an laughed. “I’ve never said such words to anyone before, because I never even thought about it.”

She repeated those four words softly.

“My heart is free.”

Chen Ping’an was then thrown back into the city by the Old Sword Immortal. Nalan Ye Xing had already appeared at the door. The two walked into the Ning residence together. Nalan Ye Xing asked softly, “Was it the Old Sword Immortal who dragged you over?”

Chen Ping’an nodded, not saying much.

Nalan Ye Xing hadn’t been too worried to begin with. Since he knew it was the Old Sword Immortal, he was even more relieved.

But Chen Ping’an said in a mental voice, “Grandpa Nalan, please tell Granny Bai that there’s something to discuss, over in the mustard seed world.”

Nalan Ye Xing’s expression became solemn. “Discussing matters with the young mistress?”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Together.”

The four gathered in the practice field.

Chen Ping’an then told them about the sword spirit, roughly outlining the current situation, without going into more details about its origins.

Nalan Ye Xing and Bai Lian Shuang, the two old people, looked at each other in dismay, as if hearing celestial scriptures.

A true spirit born from an immortal sword?

Was it one of the legendary four immortal swords, the one with the greatest killing power even ten thousand years ago? An old acquaintance of the Old Sword Immortal, Chen Qingdu?

Ning Yao was fine, her expression as usual.

Then ripples arose in the mustard seed world of the practice field, and a tall woman in pure white clothes walked out, standing beside Chen Ping’an, looking around, finally looking at Ning Yao.

Ning Yao raised an eyebrow.

The sword spirit smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll be leaving soon.”

Ning Yao said, “What if you don’t leave?”

The sword spirit gazed at the center of Ning Yao’s brow, smiling slightly. “Interesting. Worthy of my master.”

Chen Ping’an knew things were going to be bad. As expected, Ning Yao sneered, “If I didn’t have it, would I be unworthy? Does your word decide whether I’m worthy?”

Nalan Ye Xing’s forehead was covered in sweat.

Bai Lian Shuang’s body was even more tense, extremely nervous.

The sword spirit laughed. “It doesn’t, it doesn’t. Is that okay?”

Ning Yao chuckled.
Chen Ping’an, eyes lowered, mind focused, found his eighteen kinds of martial arts skills utterly useless. At this moment, a single extra word would be a mistake.

The Sword Spirit yawned. “Alright, let’s be off.”

Her already ethereal form began to dissipate, and finally, under the protection of Chen Qingdu, she broke through the barrier of the Sword Qi Great Wall and arrived in the vast world. The Old Scholar even helped to conceal their tracks, heading together towards the Treasure Bottle Continent.

On their journey, the Old Scholar asked with a beaming smile, “So, how was it?”

The Sword Spirit replied, “Not that beautiful a woman, really.”

The Old Scholar rubbed his hands, looking embarrassed. “That’s not what I meant.”

The Sword Spirit gave an “oh” and said, “You mean Chen Qingdu? After ten thousand years, they had a good chat, catching up.”

The Old Scholar frowned, feeling it wasn’t the right time to ask more.

The Sword Spirit glanced down at the inverted mountain and said casually, “Chen Qingdu agreed to let one more person pass through, making it three in total. You have an explanation for the Confucian Temple now.”

The Old Scholar exploded, “What? This venerable senior’s great favor is only worth one person?! Is Chen Qingdu trying to rebel?! Utterly improper, outrageously presumptuous!”

The Sword Spirit said, “I could have Chen Qingdu refuse to let anyone pass. Wouldn’t that make my favor worth four people?”

The Old Scholar declared righteously, “How could we ask this venerable senior to make another trip to the Sword Qi Great Wall! Three people it is. Chen Qingdu is being ungenerous. We scholars, filled with righteousness, must still uphold propriety, justice, integrity, and honor.”

The Sword Spirit glanced down again, this time at the Dragon Ditch. The Old Scholar followed her gaze, then said sheepishly, “Only small fry left. I think we should skip it.”

Between the Inverted Mountain, the Dragon Ditch, and the Treasure Bottle Continent, a white flash and a puff of green smoke vanished in an instant, traveling thousands of miles.

Not even a Sword Immortal riding their sword, or a cross-continental messenger sword, could match such astonishing speed.

The Sword Spirit raised a hand, fingers twitching slightly.

The Old Scholar craned his neck, feeling uneasy, and tentatively asked, “What are you doing?”

The Sword Spirit said calmly, “Keeping score.”

The Old Scholar carefully inquired, “Keeping score? Whose score? Lu Chen? Or that smelly, ox-nosed old Daoist from the View of the Dao?”

The Sword Spirit smiled. “Counting how many times you called me ‘venerable senior’.”

The Old Scholar lamented, “How can you do this? Think about how young I am, yet so many old codgers call me ‘Old Scholar’ all the time. Do I ever care? ‘Venerable senior’ is a respectful term. ‘Old Scholar’ and ‘Sour Scholar’ are just nicknames. How many people respectfully call me ‘Lord Sage of Literature’? This anxiety, this sorrow, who can I tell…”

The Sword Spirit lowered her hand and glanced at the maritime sect beneath them, which housed both the first statue of the Rain Master, Righteous God, and a Heavenly General of the Southern Heavenly Gate, and asked, “What choice did Bai Ze make?”

The Old Scholar chuckled. “He made a good choice, wanting to wait and see.”

The Sword Spirit asked, “This merit?”

The Old Scholar shook his head. “Doesn’t count. How can it count, and who would it count towards? The person is gone.”

The Sword Spirit scoffed, “You scholars are really good at counting.”

The Old Scholar nodded. “Indeed, it’s truly exhausting.”

The Sword Spirit turned her head. “Not quite.”

The Old Scholar said awkwardly, “For you to go to the Sword Qi Great Wall, the risk was too great. I even said I could guarantee it with my life, but those sneaky old bastards at the Confucian Temple wouldn’t agree no matter what. So, some of the merit allocated to my closed-door disciple was used up. The line of Lesser Sages, there aren’t many with heroic spirit. Petty and stingy, all sage but no hero. What kind of true sage is that? If my statue was still at the Confucian Temple, staring at those old geezers, I’d give the line of Lesser Sages a good lecture. It’s my fault too. Back when I was famous, all three academies and every school were desperate to have me lecture. But I was too thin-skinned, putting on airs. I should have lectured more. Otherwise, if I had single-mindedly gone to those academies and schools with a hoe in hand, there would definitely be a whole bunch of scholars who treated Little Peace as a senior brother.”

The Sword Spirit showed no emotion at all about the Old Scholar’s unauthorized use of her master’s merit, as if such behavior was to her liking.

As for the Old Scholar talking about guaranteeing it with his life, she was embarrassed for this sour scholar. How could he have the nerve to say that? Didn’t he know what he was like, neither human nor ghost nor god? Who in this world could kill him now? The Most Sage Teacher would definitely not act, nor would the Sage of Rites. The Lesser Sages only had a conflict of Dao with his Sage of Literature, with no personal grudges involved.

The Old Scholar nodded to himself. “No use wasting it. Better to use it up early, so my disciple won’t worry about it. This connection was never a good thing to begin with. My line, and I’m not just flattering myself, is filled with individuals of high spirit, great learning, outstanding character, and true heroism. This child, Little Peace, has traveled through three continents, roaming in all directions, but he hasn’t gone to a single school. That shows his attitude towards our Confucian Temple, academies, and schools. He’s holding his anger in his heart. I think that’s good. That’s how it should be.”

The Sword Spirit chuckled. “Cui Chan?”

The Old Scholar looked blank. “Did I ever take in that disciple? I only remember having a grand-disciple, Cui Dongshan.”

The Sword Spirit said, “I think Cui Chan has the spirit of the ancients most.”

“Who says otherwise?”

The Old Scholar looked dazed and murmured, “I also made mistakes, but I don’t have the chance to correct them. That’s life. It’s great to be able to correct a mistake when you realize it, but it’s even more painful and regretful when you realize a mistake and can’t correct it.”

But the Old Scholar quickly swept away the gloom in his heart and tugged at his beard, laughing. The past cannot be chased, but the future can still be caught. Didn’t he take in a closed-door disciple?

What venerable senior?

I may be young, but we’re of the same generation.

In the dusk, at the liquor shop, Die Zhang was a little puzzled. Why did Chen Ping’an come back to drink so soon after leaving during the day?

The liquor shop was doing good business. Not only were there no empty tables, but there wasn’t even a single empty seat, which made Chen Ping’an feel a little better as he bought his wine.

Die Zhang handed over a pot of the cheapest wine and asked, “This is?”

Chen Ping’an said helplessly, “Something happened. Ning Yao told me not to be angry, said it so confidently, but I still don’t think it’s true.”

Die Zhang didn’t gloat either, comforting him. “Ning Yao always speaks her mind. If she says she’s not angry, she’s definitely not angry. You’re thinking too much.”

Chen Ping’an replied, feeling glum, “Shopkeeper, tell me yourself, am I better at judging people, or are you?”
Right now, Diezhang could wholeheartedly indulge in a bit of schadenfreude. “Then our esteemed second-in-command, feel free to indulge in a few more jugs. We have plenty of spirits in the shop, on the house. Same old rules, familiar faces get preferential treatment, and no credit for those who just broke through.”

Chen Ping’an, clutching a wine pot, chopsticks, and a dish of side dishes, squatted by the roadside. Next to him was a habitual customer, a sword cultivator addicted to alcohol, a Dragon Gate realm cultivator named Han Rong. Like Chen Ping’an, he only ever drank a single Snowflake Coin’s worth of Bamboo Sea Grotto Heaven wine. Previously, Chen Ping’an had told Diezhang that these types of customers were the ones you needed to charm with a smile. Diezhang was somewhat taken aback, and Chen Ping’an patiently explained that drunkards attract other drunkards, and they liked to huddle together and drink themselves to death. Compared to those who occasionally drank a jug of good wine on their own, the former were the kind of guests who couldn’t wait to return to their seats as soon as they stepped away from the table. All one-off transactions in the world were bad business.

Diezhang had actually taken these words of wisdom to heart, diligently recording them in the ledger. Chen Ping’an was dismayed. How had this shop stayed open for over a decade with such a clueless manager? Had he only been running the Bundle Shop for a few years? Could it be that he actually possessed some talent for business?

Han Rong chuckled and asked, “Second-in-command, drowning your sorrows? What’s wrong? Too eager and got kicked out? Don’t worry, old Han is an expert in matters of the heart. I’ll impart a secret strategy, consider it payment for the wine. How about it, a worthwhile bargain!”

Chen Ping’an chewed on the pickles, sipped his wine, and leisurely said, “If I listened to you, I’d probably end up in a mess. Besides, I just came out for a drink. Furthermore, who’s teaching whom a secret strategy? Don’t you remember what you wrote on the ‘Nothing to Report’ plaque on the shop wall? Old Han, what did you put? You stuck the side with your name facing the wall. Are you treating our shop as your confession booth? Do you think that girl will still dare to come to my shop for a drink? Today, you’re paying double for your wine.”

“Don’t do that. Talking money hurts our relationship.”

Han Rong cradled his bowl, slowly sipping his wine, and then sighed. “There are so many bachelors around here, but a romantic fool like me is rare. If I ever succeed in winning her heart, I’ll consider it a miracle from your shop and will come back to make offerings. At that time, give me two jugs of five-Snowflake Coin wine.”

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “Easy to say. I’ll even give you an extra jug.”

Han Rong asked, “Really?”

Chen Ping’an nodded and said, “But it’ll only be worth one Snowflake Coin.”

Han Rong was disappointed. “Too stingy. A dignified second-in-command, young and promising, outstanding, a dragon among men…”

Chen Ping’an laughed and scolded, “Hold it, hold it, Old Han. I’ll spit out my wine, and you’ll have to pay for it, alright?”

From afar, Diezhang watched the two men chatting heartily, deeply impressed. This second-in-command was truly a smooth talker.

Chen Ping’an had once said that he genuinely enjoyed drinking on the Sword Qi Great Wall because, unlike the numerous tables in the Vast World, the size of one’s wine cup depended on their authority. The greater the power, the deeper the cup; the lesser the power, the shallower the cup.

Han Rong chuckled, suddenly remembering something. “Second-in-command, you’re well-read. Can you help me come up with a few lines of sappy poetry that will melt her heart? Doesn’t need to be too profound, just something like ‘Once dreamed the Azure God came to drink’ kind of thing. I like that girl, but she has a taste for that kind of thing. If you help this old brother out, whether it works or not, I’ll bring a whole table of drunkards over here, and if we don’t drink ten jars of wine, I’ll change my name to yours.”

“Do you think spouting literary phrases is like drinking wine, where you just put money on the table and get bowl after bowl? There’s no such easy thing.”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “Besides, I’m not even married yet. I’m not taking in any sons.”

Han Rong raised his wine bowl. “Our brotherhood runs deep. Let’s drain one first, at least give this old brother a single verse, even just a line or two will do. If not a son, can I be a grandson?”

Chen Ping’an raised his wine bowl. “I’ll think about it later? But to be honest, inspiration only strikes when the drinking is just right.”

Han Rong immediately turned his head and shouted at Diezhang, “Manager, I’m paying for the second-in-command’s jar of wine!”

Diezhang nodded, feeling that if Chen Ping’an was willing to focus on selling wine, he could probably open a shop on the city walls in a few years.

A slender young woman walked gracefully over, stopping in front of the second-in-command, who was explaining the meaning of “fleeting light” to Old Han. She smiled and said, “Could I trouble Young Master Chen for a moment?”

Chen Ping’an smiled and nodded, turning to Han Rong and saying, “It doesn’t matter if you don’t understand. As long as she does.”

Chen Ping’an walked down the street with the woman, smiling and saying, “Miss Yu, you’re too kind.”

The visitor was Yu Qia, the woman who haunted Fan Dache’s dreams and broke his heart.

Yu Qia’s expression was slightly unnatural, but she quickly regained her composure and said softly, “I heard about what happened that night. Although Fan Dache and I didn’t end up together, I still wanted to apologize to Young Master Chen in person, as the matter originated with me, causing Young Master Chen some unwarranted trouble. Perhaps it’s inappropriate to say this, and Young Master Chen might even think I’m just saying empty pleasantries, but regardless, I hope Young Master Chen can understand Fan Dache. He is a really good person. I am the one who wronged him.”

“If Fan Dache wasn’t a good person, I wouldn’t have taken that scolding from him.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Who hasn’t had their moments of drunkenness? When a man is drunk and mutters a woman’s name, he definitely likes her. As for drunken insults, you don’t need to take them seriously at all.”

“Thank you, Young Master Chen.”

Yu Qia performed a curtsy. “Then I won’t disturb Young Master Chen’s drinking with his friends.”

After Yu Qia left, Chen Ping’an returned to the shop and continued squatting down to drink. Han Rong had already left, but he hadn’t forgotten to pay the bill.

Diezhang leaned closer and asked, “What was that about?”

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “It was about Fan Dache’s incident. Yu Qia came to apologize on his behalf.”

Diezhang twitched the corners of his mouth. “She’s just afraid of angering Chen Sanqiu. Chen Sanqiu is the head of all those young masters from Fan Dache’s circle. If Chen Sanqiu were to say something harsh, Yu Qia wouldn’t be able to hang around there anymore.”

Chen Ping’an smiled but didn’t say much.

It wasn’t that simple.

Chen Ping’an suddenly said, “Let’s make a bet. Will Fan Dache show up?”

Diezhang nodded and said, “I bet he will.”

Chen Ping’an smiled, about to nod in agreement.

Diezhang then changed his mind and said, “I’m not betting.”
Chen Ping’an wore a look of regret, which made Diezhang feel vindicated in his decision not to gamble. Sure enough, before even half an incense stick’s time had passed, Fan Dache arrived.

Diezhang rolled his eyes.

Fan Dache reached the wine shop, hesitating, but finally ordered a pot of wine and squatted down beside Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an smiled, “Girl Yu said she was the one who let you down.”

Fan Dache lowered his head, his face instantly stained with tears. He didn’t even drink the wine, just held the bowl.

Chen Ping’an raised his wine bowl and gently clinked it against Fan Dache’s white bowl, then said, “Don’t do anything rash. Don’t wish for war to break out tomorrow, thinking it’s enough to die south of the Great Wall of Sword Qi.”

Fan Dache finished the wine in one gulp. “How did you know?”

Chen Ping’an said, “I guessed.”

Fan Dache said, “Don’t ruin your friendship with Sanqiu because of me, or even if you’re still friends, don’t let there be any grudges.”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “You’re overthinking it.”

Fan Dache nodded. “That’s good.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Even if you didn’t come to me today, I would have gone to you.”

Fan Dache smiled bitterly, “I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s no use.”

Chen Ping’an said, “You must be feeling terrible right now. Mosquitoes buzzing like thunder, ants crossing the road like mountains. I have a way, do you want to try it?”

Fan Dache was puzzled. “What way?”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “Have a fight. If the pain is as bad as the heartache, you’ll feel better.”

Fan Dache was skeptical. “Are you just looking for an excuse to beat me up? You’re still holding a grudge about me breaking your wine bowl?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Believe it or not.”

But in the end, Fan Dache followed Chen Ping’an to the corner of the street. Before Fan Dache could even get into a fighting stance, he was knocked down with a punch. After falling several times, Fan Dache finally stood up, his face covered in blood, staggering down the road. Chen Ping’an, having finished the job, was still calm and composed, walking beside him, turning his head and asking with a smile, “How is it?”

Fan Dache wiped his face, spread his hands, and cursed, “Better my ass! If I go back like this, Sanqiu and the others will definitely think I’m really going to do something stupid.”

Chen Ping’an laughed, “What’s a little blood for a tough guy? Otherwise, you’ll have drunk my Bamboo Sea Grotto Heaven wine for nothing. Remember to pay for the wine before you leave. As for that white bowl, forget about it. I’m not the kind of person who is petty and remembers such small things.”

Chen Ping’an stopped. “I have something to do.”

Fan Dache walked alone towards the shop.

Chen Ping’an turned around and smiled, “Didn’t scare you, did I?”

It was the young man Zhang Jiazhen.

Zhang Jiazhen shook his head and said, “I wanted to ask about the meaning of the word ‘steady.’ What is the true meaning in Mr. Chen’s view?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Steady, there is another interpretation, which is ‘a person not hurried.’ Its meaning is similar to slow. But being slow is not wrong, ultimately seeking speed, hence the hurry.”

Zhang Jiazhen pondered for a moment, smiled knowingly, looked up at Chen Ping’an with his hands in his sleeves, and asked, “Mr. Chen, I am not good at martial arts or swordsmanship, so if I have free time in the future, and Mr. Chen happens to be near the shop, can I ask Mr. Chen to teach me the meaning of words?”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “Of course. I’ll be around here often.”

Zhang Jiazhen blinked.

Chen Ping’an turned his head and saw it was Ning Yao.

Zhang Jiazhen bid farewell and ran away.

Chen Ping’an walked over quickly and asked softly, “Why did you come?”

Ning Yao asked, “You’ve been drinking again?”

Chen Ping’an was speechless, reeking of alcohol. If he dared to deny it, wouldn’t he be beaten half to death?

Ning Yao suddenly took his hand.

Neither of them spoke, just walked past the shop and onto the street.

Ning Yao asked, “Why aren’t you talking?”

Chen Ping’an thought for a moment and imitated someone, “Chen Ping’an, even if you’re lucky enough to marry a wife in the future, she’ll probably be a fool.”

Ning Yao, for once, didn’t say anything, remaining silent for a moment, then smiled to herself, squinted, and raised a hand, leaving an inch or so between her thumb and forefinger, as if talking to herself, “Not even this much fondness?”

Ning Yao was puzzled to see Chen Ping’an stop, but they were still holding hands, so Ning Yao turned to look at him. For some reason, Chen Ping’an’s lips trembled as he said in a hoarse voice, “If I leave first one day, what will you do? If we have children, what will you do?”

He was no longer the straw sandal boy from Mud Bottle Lane, nor the child carrying a medicinal herb basket. For some inexplicable reason, just thinking about this made him feel sad, and then very sad.

All suffering that can be spoken of can ultimately be slowly endured. Only the sadness that is secretly hidden will accumulate little by little, year after year, like a lonely little mute, hiding in the corner of the heart, curled up. That child, with just a glance, silently meets the eyes of every grown-up version of himself, wordlessly.