Although the Ning estate wasn’t situated on Grand Prime Street or Black Scepter Lane, the residence was genuinely vast.

Chen Ping’an assisted the three in selecting three separate residences. As a Qi cultivator, Cao Qinglang’s location was of utmost importance. The spiritual aura couldn’t be too faint, yet the sword energy couldn’t be too intense. After all, Cao Qinglang was at the bottleneck of the Cave Mansion realm, about to ascend to the Sea Gazing realm, making him the least willing foreign cultivator to reside near the Sword Qi Great Wall. Fortunately, Chen Ping’an knew the Ning estate inside and out. He knew exactly where Cao Qinglang and the others should reside, along with all the subtle and significant considerations. Ning Yao entrusted these decisions entirely to Chen Ping’an, without needing to say anything herself as the owner of the Ning estate, nor did Chen Ping’an, still considered somewhat of an outsider, need to ask.

Pei Qian, like a little yellow sparrow, was determined to flutter around her Shiniang, unwilling to leave her side.

Initially, Chen Ping’an was concerned that Pei Qian might disrupt Ning Yao’s closed-door cultivation. However, Ning Yao simply stated, “On the path of cultivation, when is it not closed-door cultivation?” Chen Ping’an had no response. Ning Yao then took Pei Qian to the Ning estate’s secret vault, used to store immortal treasures and mountain artifacts, saying she wanted to give Pei Qian a welcome gift, allowing her to choose anything she liked. Ning Yao would then select an item as a return gift for the present she had received at the main gate earlier.

Zhong Qiu inquired with Chen Ping’an about the Ning estate’s rules and taboos, before heading to the Dragon Slaying Cliff’s pavilion alone.

Cao Qinglang, after placing his luggage in his own residence, followed Chen Ping’an to the small abode. Chen Ping’an walked along the road, with his hands tucked into his sleeves, and said with a smile, “I originally wanted both you and Pei Qian to stay with me. Do you remember when the three of us first met? But now you’re at a critical juncture in your cultivation, so focusing on the Dao is the priority.”

Cao Qinglang nodded with a smile. “Teacher, actually, from that time onward, I was always afraid of Pei Qian. I just feared Teacher would look down on me, so I tried my best to pretend I wasn’t afraid of Pei Qian. But deep down, I admired her. I always felt that if I were in her situation, I wouldn’t have been able to survive in the capital of South Garden Kingdom. However, there were many things about Pei Qian that I didn’t understand at the time, and I didn’t really like her back then. But how could I dare to gossip about Pei Qian? Teacher might not know, but when Teacher left the ancestral residence, Pei Qian told me many glorious stories of her travels in the world, the meaning of which I could certainly understand.”

Chen Ping’an asked with a smile, “When I wasn’t at your ancestral home, did Pei Qian ever secretly beat you up?”

Cao Qinglang nodded vigorously, but didn’t elaborate on the details.

Chen Ping’an didn’t ask for more details either.

Chen Ping’an could fully imagine the scene between him and Pei Qian when he wasn’t at Cao Qinglang’s humble ancestral residence.

Of course, when the three of them were together, Chen Ping’an would also do things that Cao Qinglang and Pei Qian wouldn’t have consciously thought about back then, perhaps through words or small actions.

But many things, truly, Cao Qinglang had to face on his own, from the life and death of elders to the trivial words that stabbed at his spine, hidden in the gaps between eating melon seeds, hidden in casual chats on small benches, hidden in the large pile of food on the tables of neighbors.

In fact, the child Cao Qinglang relied on the word “endure,” enduring until the clouds parted and the moon shone, until the night gave way to day.

Back then, Cao Qinglang really couldn’t beat Pei Qian; he didn’t even dare to fight back. The key was that at the time, Pei Qian not only had a defiant spirit but also possessed an aura like a brigand, crushing anthills with one foot and swatting mosquitoes and flies with one hand. Cao Qinglang couldn’t help but be afraid. Especially once, when Pei Qian held a small bench, staring straight at him but abnormally not uttering a single harsh word, Cao Qinglang, who was still a frail child at the time, was truly frightened. As a result, during many times when Chen Ping’an wasn’t at the residence, Cao Qinglang could only be driven to the door by Pei Qian to act as a doorman.

A solitary child sat listlessly on the steps, but dared not stay in his own home. The child could only look longingly towards the corner of the street, waiting for the return of the white-robed, sword-carrying Chen gongzi with a vermillion wine gourd tied around his waist. As long as he reached the alley and saw that figure, Cao Qinglang could finally go home, but he couldn’t say anything, let alone complain.

Because Pei Qian was very clever, a cleverness that Cao Qinglang, her peer at the time, couldn’t even imagine. From the beginning, she had reminded Cao Qinglang, “You, who lack a father and mother but are still considered to have some manhood, if you dare to complain, I’ll beat you every time you complain. Even if that dead, rich, but not generous bastard kicks me out, I’ll climb over the wall in the middle of the night and smash all your pots and pans. Can you stop me? That guy is pretending to be a good person, helping you. Can he stop me for a day or two, a year or two? What kind of person is he, and what kind of person are you? Will he really live here forever? Besides, I know his temper better than you, you fool. No matter what I do, he will absolutely not beat me to death, so you better be sensible. Otherwise, if you make an enemy of me, I can pester you for several years. From now on, every year during the New Year holidays, your family is going to be extinct anyway, and you won’t even be able to afford door gods or spring festival couplets. I’ll steal your water bucket and fill it with other people’s excrement and urine and smear it all over your front door. Every day when I pass by your house, I’ll carry a big bag of stones. I want to see if you spend money to patch the window paper faster or if I pick up stones faster.”

What Cao Qinglang found most difficult to endure about Pei Qian back then weren’t these direct threats, not the words that Pei Qian thought were the ugliest and scariest, but the other words that Pei Qian said with a smile and lightness.

“Your family is so poor that the rice jar is cleaner than the bed. Your only use as an ill-fated star is to roll outside to be a doorman. Do you know how much copper coins two door gods cost? You couldn’t even afford it if you sold yourself. Look at other people’s families; their lives are getting better and better, with more people and more money. Your family is good; people died, and not much money was left behind? From what I see, wasn’t your father a peddler who went from door to door selling things? Isn’t there a lot of houses of pleasure in Scholar Lane, not far from here? Your father’s money, wasn’t it all spent on touching those women’s little hands?”

“Melon seeds, gone?! Do you believe I’ll smash the jar you use to store melon seeds? Tear up all your ragged books? When that surnamed Chen returns to this broken place, you kneel on the ground and cry loudly. He has a lot of money, so what if he buys you some melon seeds? Staying at an inn costs money; you’re stupid, he’s bad, and neither of you are good things. No wonder you can get together. Consider me unlucky for eight lifetimes to have met the two of you.”
“Cao Qinglang, you can’t possibly think that fellow likes you, do you? He just pities you! He and I are the same kind of people. Do you know what kind of people we are? It’s like when I’m strolling down the street and see a fledgling that’s fallen from its nest. I genuinely feel sorry for it. Then I find a rock and smash it dead with one blow, saving it from further suffering. Does that make sense? So, am I a good person? You think I’m freeloading at your house? I’m protecting you! Maybe one day you’ll be beaten to death by him. With me here, he won’t dare. Shouldn’t you be thanking me?”

“Why are you always frowning? You only have one pair of parents! What, another pair died? Sigh, whatever. Anyway, you’ve already let down your deceased parents. You’ve tarnished the name they gave you. If I were your parents, during the seventh-day ceremony or the Qingming and Zhongyuan Festivals, whenever I saw you, I’d be so angry I’d die all over again! Cao Qinglang, I think you should just die! If you die sooner, you might catch up with your parents. But remember to die far away, so that fellow can’t find you. He’s rich, but stingy. He wouldn’t even buy you a cheap straw mat to be buried in. Anyway, this house will be mine eventually.”

Cao Qinglang had initiated two fights with Pei Qian, once for his parents and once for that Young Master Chen who hadn’t returned for a long time. Of course, Cao Qinglang was no match for Pei Qian. Pei Qian was used to seeing others fight and had been beaten herself. Dealing with a Cao Qinglang who didn’t even dare to strike hard was boring for her. But she was only bored on the inside; her strength was still considerable. So Cao Qinglang didn’t fare well in either fight.

Chen Ping’an led Cao Qinglang, no longer the scrawny child from the slum, into the left wing room with two tables. Chen Ping’an had Cao Qinglang sit at the table with the seals and fan ribs, while he began organizing the geomancy maps and ledgers. When it came to “bookkeeping,” the student Cao Qinglang naturally had less experience than the disciple Pei Qian.

Chen Ping’an had never told anyone, but in his heart, Cao Qinglang merely had a similar life experience to him. Their temperaments and personalities seemed somewhat alike, and there were indeed many similarities, but in truth, they were not the same.

It was a strange feeling.

But this didn’t stop Chen Ping’an from wanting to take Cao Qinglang with him when he left Lotus Flower Paradise. Even if it was impossible, he still yearned for that child from the slum, sincerely hoping that Cao Qinglang would become a seed of learning, a true scholar wearing Confucian robes, like Mr. Qi. He even regretted leaving too hastily and worried about teaching him wrongly. Cao Qinglang was too young, and many things that were right for Chen Ping’an would be wrong for him. So, before Lotus Flower Paradise was divided into four, with Chen Ping’an occupying one, he constantly worried about Cao Qinglang. This was why, at an inn on the border of the Daquan Dynasty in Tongye Continent, when Pei Qian asked him that question, Chen Ping’an didn’t hesitate to say it was true, admitting that he didn’t want to keep Pei Qian by his side at all. If he could, he would only take Cao Qinglang away from his hometown and bring him to Chen Ping’an’s hometown.

As the saying goes, even a clay Buddha has a temper.

But on Chen Ping’an, it was rarely seen, especially truly getting angry with a child as big as Pei Qian was at the time. In Chen Ping’an’s life, it only happened once.

Zhao Shuxia’s boxing style was most like his, but in Zhao Shuxia, Chen Ping’an saw more of his best friend, Liu Xianyang. Just as Zhao Shuxia had protected Luan’er when they first met, Liu Xianyang had protected Chen Ping’an throughout the many years they were acquaintances, friends, and then the best of friends in town.

The one who was truly more like Chen Ping’an was the timid gaze with which Pei Qian secretly observed the world, and Sui Jingcheng’s guessing of people’s hearts and gambling on them. Now, there was a youth from Sword Qi Great Wall who was also similar, not Zhang Jiazhen, who was already helping at the wine shop, but a poor youth from Rain Cape Alley named Jiang Qu. In those streets, every time Chen Ping’an acted as a storyteller, the youth spoke the least, always squatting furthest away, yet he was the most thoughtful and studied boxing the most diligently. Hence, he learned the most boxing. During several well-timed encounters and conversations, the youth seemed slightly uneasy, but his eyes were firm. Chen Ping’an taught the youth Jiang Qu alone the Sword Furnace Stance of the Mountain Shaking Fist.

Each time Jiang Qu squatted there, seemingly attentively listening to the storyteller’s tales of mountains and rivers, his eyes, complexion, and slight conversations with acquaintances were filled with a vague ambition.

Chen Ping’an didn’t feel any aversion, only some sadness.

No one knows why Wei Bo spoke of Ah Liang’s stories in front of the bamboo building on Fallen Mountain back then.

Why the young Chen Ping’an teared up, and why, besides admiration, he hid a deep sense of shame, regret, and helplessness in his heart, an emotion that Wei Bo hadn’t detected at the time.

Almost everyone thought that it was Chen Ping’an’s first journey far from home, when he escorted Li Baoping and the others to the Great Sui Academy to study, and that Chen Ping’an did his best to protect them. Looking at the result, Chen Ping’an seemed to have done the best he could, and no one could criticize him.

But when the straw sandal boy first met Ah Liang, it was actually another major test in Chen Ping’an’s life, silent and unseen, a tug-of-war in his heart.

Chen Ping’an hoped that in the eyes of that sword-carrying man who claimed to be a swordsman, he was the one Mr. Qi had entrusted with hope. Chen Ping’an hoped for an unexpected opportunity to ensure he made no mistakes. Therefore, during that journey that began on the riverbank and ended at the Red Candle Town post station, Chen Ping’an was constantly trying to guess Ah Liang’s thoughts, to imagine himself in the place of a transcendent expert, to consider what he liked and disliked, and to guess what kind of junior, what kind of youth, the friend of Mr. Qi, who wore a knife but called himself a swordsman, would like. Even if he didn’t like or look down upon him, he absolutely couldn’t let the other party feel disgusted. So, at that time, Chen Ping’an’s every word and action was deliberate and extremely thoughtful. A young boy walking among green mountains and rivers, did he really have the mood to appreciate the scenery?
Even though Chen Ping’an’s initial intention was to successfully escort Bao Ping and the others safely to the academy, ensuring that the strange man with the donkey and bamboo knife wouldn’t cause them any harm, every time he reflects on that part of his life, Chen Ping’an feels a pang of sadness and an urge to drink.

The path of life, once traversed, is truly gone, unlike one’s hometown, where one can return.

How can one not drink when occasionally looking back?

Jiang Qu, so cautious now on the Sword Qi Great Wall, is remarkably similar to Chen Ping’an, who was once so pensive amidst the landscapes.

Cao Qinglang gently examined several engraved seals and fan inscriptions when he suddenly noticed that his teacher was merely sitting at the next table, silently lost in thought.

Daring not to disturb his teacher’s contemplation, Cao Qinglang took out the small, antique-looking engraving knife, its blade still sharp, and gently placed it on the table.

He didn’t know why his teacher had gifted him this item. Cao Qinglang certainly wouldn’t underestimate the engraving knife simply because it seemed ordinary. On the contrary, the more “worthless” this impromptu gift from his teacher was, the more he would cherish it.

Chen Ping’an stood up and smiled, “Just thinking about some old times.”

Cao Qinglang also rose.

Chen Ping’an gestured for him to sit, “No need for such formalities in the future, be more at ease.”

Cao Qinglang smiled and nodded, yet still waited for his teacher to sit down before taking his own seat.

Chen Ping’an crossed his arms, leaned forward, glanced at the small engraving knife on the table, and smiled, “This engraving knife was a complimentary gift from the shopkeeper when I bought that jade seal in a shop in the capital of the Great Sui, during my first long journey away from home. Remember those bamboo slips I gave you earlier? They were all painstakingly carved with this little knife, word by word. The item itself isn’t valuable, but it holds a significant place in my life.”

Cao Qinglang stood up, took a few steps back, and bowed in respect.

Chen Ping’an said helplessly, “Some significance is just that, some significance. You don’t need to be so formal about it. I have many objects that are meaningful to me, most of them worthless. If you care so much, then I have a pile of straw sandals, would you like them? I’ll give you a pair, and you bow to me once for each pair. Who loses, who gains? It seems both parties would only lose. Things that neither the student nor the teacher profits from, let’s not do them.”

Cao Qinglang shook his head and smiled, “Teacher, never mind the straw sandals, I can weave them myself, maybe even better than your craftsmanship.”

Chen Ping’an shook his head, “When it comes to scholarship and cultivation, this mediocre teacher of yours may not be as good as you, but when it comes to weaving straw sandals, your teacher has travelled the world and rarely met his match.”

Cao Qinglang smiled faintly.

Chen Ping’an joked, “According to the former master of Wind and Thunder Garden, Li Tuanjing, if weaving straw sandals were also a path to the Great Dao, then you’re just a novice in the lower five realms. I wonder what the upper five realms of weaving straw sandals would look like.”

Cao Qinglang nodded, “Whatever teacher says.”

Chen Ping’an was speechless. He then thought about what his Fallen Mountain lacked. It wasn’t fence-sitters or flattery from Ascension Realm cultivators. His first disciple and Zhu Lian had steered them all to who-knows-where, so that even his half-disciple Guo Zhujiu was a self-taught kindred spirit like Pei Qian. What they lacked was Cao Qinglang’s integrity.

So, Chen Ping’an smiled with satisfaction. He had finally accepted a somewhat normal good student.

Cao Qinglang, on the other hand, felt a little uneasy. He reached for a bamboo fan with inscriptions on the fan surface and engravings on the ribs. Folding fans have elegant nicknames and aliases, one of which is “breeze.”

The inscriptions on the fan surface were naturally prominent and easily seen, but what Cao Qinglang truly liked was a line of minute characters on one of the larger ribs, like a shy child hiding, afraid to be seen. The writing was extremely small, so that a slightly careless fan buyer might mistake it for a bamboo fan with only fan surface inscriptions but no engravings, and never know it for months or years.

Cao Qinglang closed the folding fan, held it in his hand, gazed at the line of characters, and raised his head, smiling, “No wonder teacher likes to drink.”

Chen Ping’an smiled knowingly.

Engraved on the bamboo:

“The affairs of the world are but a grand dream. Drinking, fear not intoxication, for not being drunk means being the dreamer.”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “If you like it, then I’ll give it to you.”

Cao Qinglang shook his head and smiled, “I wouldn’t want to hinder teacher from earning money.”

Chen Ping’an casually picked up another fan, fanned himself, and smiled, “Your teacher is not that kind of person.”

Cao Qinglang asked, “Teacher, shall we carve some characters for Su Zhang together?”

Chen Ping’an immediately put down the folding fan and smiled, “Alright.”

Cao Qinglang suppressed a smile, picked up the snow-white stone seal he had taken a fancy to, held the engraving knife, and then hesitated, only able to softly ask, “Teacher, carving characters is very different from writing. I’ve never done this before. If I mess it up the first time, wouldn’t it be a waste of the seal?”

Chen Ping’an’s heart stirred. Flying Sword Fifteen shot out from its aperture, was held in his hand. He seemed to not mind and said, “The seal material is just a common item from the Sword Qi Great Wall, a kind of stone that can be picked up anywhere on the mountains and plains. It’s not about the money. But if you really mind, then carve slowly. Move your hands slowly but keep your mind quick and mistakes will be less. Besides, the sword cultivators here on the Sword Qi Great Wall are easy to talk to and don’t pay much attention to the subtle flaws in the font itself. As long as the meaning of the seal text is conveyed, it will definitely sell.”

Chen Ping’an held “engraving knife” Fifteen in one hand and the seal in the other, planning to give Cao Qinglang and Pei Qian each one. He pondered the content of the inscription, having not carved characters for a long time.

Therefore, Cao Qinglang, who was carving a seal for the first time but already had a draft in mind, was the first to “write.” After writing the first character, Cao Qinglang took a deep breath, rested briefly, looked up, and saw that his teacher was still thinking.

Cao Qinglang lowered his head and continued to carve.

There was a sentence that had been stuck in Cao Qinglang’s heart for a long time after reuniting with Pei Qian, but the young man did not intend to tell his teacher, otherwise it would seem like tattling, like gossiping behind someone’s back.

“If you don’t know how bad Pei Qian was before, you won’t know how good Pei Qian is now.”

Regarding Pei Qian after the long-awaited reunion, even if only talking about her height, why was it so different from what he imagined? In fact, at the corner of the street in their blessed land hometown, the already elegant young man holding an umbrella was very surprised.

Later, when they met again, Cao Qinglang was even more puzzled.
Only after accompanying Pei Qian on that trip to the Heart Image Temple did Cao Qinglang gain some understanding. Later, when they arrived at Luopo Mountain, his doubts lessened, and he began to gradually adapt to Pei Qian’s constancy and changes. As for now, although he still hasn’t completely figured out the reason, at least Cao Qinglang no longer mistakenly believes, as he once did, that Pei Qian’s body was possessed by a cultivator or that part of her soul had been replaced. Otherwise, why would Pei Qian’s temperament have changed so drastically?

It was as if she had gone from one extreme to the other.

The boy was meticulous and thoughtful, and even after leaving Luopo Mountain on their long journey, he still harbored some minor worries.

Then came the lecture between master and disciple above the city walls.

This put the boy’s mind completely at ease.

Cao Qinglang refocused his concentration and continued to carve the seal.

Unknowingly, the orphaned boy from the humble alley had become a refined young scholar in a Confucian robe.

Cao Qinglang intended to give this seal as a gift to his teacher.

Chen Ping’an still couldn’t decide what to carve, so he had to put down the plain seal, retrieve the flying sword Fifteen and return it to his Qi palace, and instead take up a brush to write on a fan.

Cao Qinglang raised his head, gazing at Chen Ping’an for a long time without looking away.

Chen Ping’an didn’t raise his head, but he sensed the boy’s strangeness and said with a smile, “What’s wrong? Did you carve it wrong? Then change to another seal and start over. But if you want to, keep the wrongly carved seal, don’t throw it away.”

“I didn’t carve it wrong.”

Cao Qinglang shook his head, remained silent for a long time, and murmured, “I’m very fortunate to have met Teacher.”

Chen Ping’an chuckled, still not raising his head. He thought for a moment and nodded to himself, “The teacher is also very happy to have met this student.”

Cao Qinglang continued to bury himself in carving.

Chen Ping’an finished writing on the fan, turned his head, and asked, “What characters did you carve?”

Cao Qinglang quickly raised a hand to cover the seal, “It’s not finished yet, Teacher will know in the future.”

Chen Ping’an smiled. This student was quite different from his eldest disciple, who was certainly busy trying to curry favor.

Cao Qinglang sat upright, his expression focused, carving with meticulous care, his mind at peace, his hand extremely steady.

He used the carving knife given by his teacher to inscribe seal script, and when they parted next time, he would present this seal in his hand to his teacher.

Cao Qinglang hadn’t finished carving yet. He closed his eyes midway, and a beautiful picture that he had long imagined appeared in his mind. What he thought in his heart was what he wrote with his hand.

“Teacher sits alone, spring breeze turning the pages.”