Chen Ping’an suddenly rose to his feet, his vision expanding, and respectfully clasped his fist towards a distant guest.

With the Old Sword Immortal gone, he was now half-guest and half-host of the Sword Qi Great Wall, naturally obliged to help receive visitors.

Chen Ping’an looked into the distance, and within his field of vision across the vast southern lands, an unexpected senior figure appeared.

Chen Ping’an had no idea what mystical art the opponent had employed to render the meticulously crafted landscape restrictions of the Jiazi Account as nothing.

When realms differed too greatly, excessive contemplation was futile.

He truly envied that senior who had gouged out his own eyes and left them in the two worlds. The vastness of heaven and earth was his oyster, free to roam as he pleased. Returning home was his right, and none could stop him. Should he close his doors to guests, who would dare intrude upon his abode?

Indeed, such was the pursuit of cultivation and ascension.

The Dragon Sovereign, seeing this person’s sudden appearance, felt as if facing a great enemy, his mood turning heavy.

A grey-robed figure drifted onto the southern city wall, condensing a vague form with sword qi. The Dragon Sovereign remained silent, merely staring at that singular exception from the barbaric world.

This eccentric old blind man had, for ten thousand years, remained largely within the bounds, content to watch over his small patch of land. He favored employing tabooed great demons and golden-armored divine warriors to move the ten thousand mountains, claiming he wished to create a clean and unobtrusive landscape painting.

The Dragon Sovereign held reservations about this individual, but not the slightest reverence. In truth, the Dragon Sovereign and the old blind man had known each other for a long time, each aware of the other’s strengths and weaknesses. They had once even been friends of decent standing, but as time weathered them both, they failed to become true old friends.

Li Zhen was quite perceptive. Sensing something amiss and fearing being caught in the crossfire of immortals, he immediately fled on his sword, heading north, even hiding by the great gate, bantering with the sword-bearing man, finally asking Zhang Lu if he had any wine.

Zhang Lu, the Great Sword Immortal who sat cross-legged by the hitching post, tossed Li Zhen a pot of the Rain Dragon Sect’s immortal brew, saying it was a gift from Xiao Xun, and to drink it sparingly. He had only accumulated a little at a time, like a swallow building its nest, and had barely two hundred jars.

Li Zhen felt that the later customs of the Sword Qi Great Wall had been thoroughly corrupted by outlanders like Ah Liang and the Hidden Official. Now, their sword skills were not so high, but they were all eloquent speakers.

Li Zhen leisurely drank his wine, tapping the hitching post with a bent finger. “Before and behind the gate, a total of four posts, historically tethered to dragons, oxen, horses, and apes. It’s a pity they have to suppress this gate, otherwise that old ape Yuan Shou would have been drooling for ten thousand years. He would definitely have smashed one of them when passing by, and then pocketed the remaining three.”

Zhang Lu laughed, “In the final analysis, it’s still because that Yang Zhi’s concubine couldn’t beat your master.”

That Yuan Shou was one of the throne-level great demons, wielding a long staff on the battlefield. His arms were like those of an ape, and he carried a string of crude stones, each a once-majestic mountain peak that had vanished from the history of the barbaric world, first removed by the demon who went by the name of Yuan Shou using his innate abilities, then carefully refined into a stone bead for his bracelet.

Yuan Shou had already visited both the Tongye Continent in the southeast and the Fuyao Continent in the southwest of the Vast World. Wherever he went, any ancestral hall, regardless of size, was shattered with a single blow.

Li Zhen jumped onto another post at the gate, the one for tethering oxen, sitting cross-legged like the Great Sword Immortal Zhang, taking small sips of wine, contemplating how to trick Zhang Lu out of a second pot.

Zhang Lu asked, “One of the great moons in your home is missing again. When lending the moon back and forth, twice in a row, there was a difference in aura. Did she fight with Chen Ping’an? She seems to be injured.”

Li Zhen nodded, regretting, “Just suffered a small loss. How powerful is Sister Lending Moon? Beating a bottom-ranked eleventh opponent is like taking candy from a baby. If she gets really angry, she can make the Hidden Official kneel and kowtow, calling her ‘Grandma.’ His lifelong reputation is ruined! Fortunately, not many people saw it, just me and the Dragon Sovereign. And I’m the kind of person who keeps my mouth shut, I like to keep things to myself, unless… someone offers me wine, then I might chat a bit more.”

Zhang Lu laughed, “I shouldn’t have given you wine.”

Li Zhen said, “I heard that you and Chen Ping’an are old acquaintances? You’ve met many times?”

Zhang Lu patted the dragon-tethering post under his butt. “A gatekeeper sees all kinds of outlanders coming and going, don’t they all have to meet me?”

Back then, in the Thirteen Swords competition, Zhang Lu lost and was demoted to guard the gate.

Li Zhen raised his head to look at the sky, gently placing the wine pot in his hand on top of the post at his feet, suddenly smiling in his heart, “Guarding the gate, Brother Zhang Lu is right, but not entirely right. The Zhan Kan sword, ultimately left behind in your hometown, there’s a reason for that. And that little Daoist boy seemingly randomly throwing down a cattail cushion, sitting near this ox post every day, passing the time, there’s a method to it all.”

Li Zhen turned his head, his face full of pity. “You always seem to be so restless, so you always end up with a bad ending.”

Zhang Lu actually tossed a pot of Lu Hua Island’s stored immortal brew to Li Zhen.

Li Zhen smiled in surprise, “I thought I wouldn’t be able to drink Great Sword Immortal Zhang’s immortal brew again.”

Zhang Lu said, “It’s rare for Li Zhen to tell some truth, he deserves a drink.”

Li Zhen placed the pot of wine and the empty pot on his left and right sides, a rare look of emotion on his face, murmuring, “Remembering is worse than not remembering, knowing is worse than not knowing.”

True insightful people, those who have attained the Way, are truly afraid of the impermanence of the Great Dao.

Zhang Lu laughed, “It seems Chen Ping’an winning against Lending Moon has made you feel bad.”

Li Zhen stretched out a hand, smiling at the Great Sword Immortal who was drinking. “In the old days, I roamed by the osmanthus tree, casting a fishing hook for poems down to the world. Now I raise my head to look at the bright moon, a land immortal drinking the heaven’s bounty. How fitting. I’ll trade you a pot of wine for a limerick, don’t let an old friend be without a broom to sweep away sorrow.”

Zhang Lu waved his hand, “Get lost.”

Li Zhen sighed, and could only open the pot of wine, tilting his head to converse silently with the Spirit of Wine.

He didn’t know what that old blind man was plotting by coming to the Sword Qi Great Wall.

If the old blind man and the Dragon Sovereign fought to the death, causing the riverbed to change course, things would become even more chaotic.

Li Zhen laughed again, what does it have to do with me?

Li Zhen cried again, why am I here?

Zhang Lu glanced at the young sword cultivator. It seemed he hadn’t gotten any advantage from Chen Ping’an.

The young Hidden Official, confined to one place for a long time, hadn’t lost his mind, but the unrestrained disciple of the Toppling Moon Mountain was about to go crazy.
Chen Ping’an didn’t remain on the high city wall. He took a step, his figure plummeting as he intended to fall straight down. Unexpectedly, before his feet touched the ground, he was struck by the Dragon Lord’s unannounced sword.

That old dog Dragon Lord held a grudge.

Chen Ping’an had no choice but to subtly shift his will, appearing within a stroke of a large character on the city wall, as close to the ground as possible.

He wanted to stay as close as possible to that senior.

Speaking with a senior at the highest point was too disrespectful.

Whether the senior cared or not was a matter of their magnanimity. Whether the junior cared or not was a matter of their upbringing and manners.

It wasn’t just towards the Old Sword Immortal and the Old Blind Man; Chen Ping’an acted this way throughout his travels, across countless mountains and rivers.

At the Old Blind Man’s feet lay a listless old dog, bored. It raised a paw and lightly pawed at the ground.

If Chen Ping’an could break through the Jiazi Account restriction, he would definitely use his inner voice to greet the Dragon Lord, urging him to come and see a relative, that one on the ground.

The Old Blind Man first said to the Dragon Lord, “If there’s no fighting, I’ll chat with Official Chen for a bit.”

The Dragon Lord nodded.

Although the Old Blind Man had a foul temper, he always meant what he said and could be trusted.

Then, the Old Blind Man turned his head. “The dialect of the Sword Qi Great Wall, or the elegant language of the Wild Desolate World, which are you more used to?”

Chen Ping’an replied, “Whatever Senior prefers.”

The Old Blind Man smiled. Chen Qingdu indeed favored juniors with this kind of outwardly flexible and inwardly firm nature, seemingly easy to talk to.

Chen Qingdu never liked sharing his innermost thoughts with others, and it had always been this way.

Just like Ah Liang, who crawled and sneaked up the mountain early on, showing off at their doorstep, saying that a man who only liked to drink alone must have many stories.

Of course, besides boasting and flattering, saying that both host and guest were men of stories, Ah Liang also wanted to trick some old gossip from him.

The Old Blind Man didn’t let him get his way. As for the wine Ah Liang brought as a gift, he wouldn’t refuse it.

Suddenly, the Old Blind Man kicked the old dog beside him, cursing, “A being at the Ascension Realm, if you have no money, haven’t you ever seen money?! Or is there shit on the ground for you to eat?”

The old dog had almost dug up a lost magical treasure of decent quality from deep beneath the battlefield ruins.

After tumbling a few times, it whimpered and simply lay on the ground, motionless.

Chen Ping’an’s smile remained unchanged. Indeed, a dignified Great Demon of the Ascension Realm, fighting over treasures with a mere Nascent Soul junior, needed to have some shame.

The sickly old dog pried open its eyelids, glancing at the young Hidden Official in the bright red robes. It had heard the sword immortals visiting the mountain say that this young man was the real money-making expert. Old Blind Man, you’re truly blind, scolding your own dog instead of outsiders.

The Old Blind Man used the elegant language of the Wild Desolate World to ask the young man, “How did you know of She Yue’s hiding place? She Yue has only appeared in the world for a few years, and Mount Tuoyue is secretive about her, so the Summer Palace shouldn’t have any records of her.”

“This junior was betting on the off chance!”

Chen Ping’an didn’t even bother using his inner voice, speaking directly, “I unleashed the three Great Worlds, large and small, almost simultaneously, yet She Yue remained calm and collected, even choosing not to rely on her natal moon soul to forcefully break the formation and exchange Dao losses with me. So she almost gave me the answer for free, she was also gambling, gambling that I couldn’t find her. Maintaining three great formations simultaneously consumes spiritual energy, while she could sit back and watch from the ‘heart-moon wall,’ so why not?”

Chen Ping’an lightly clenched his fist and tapped his heart, smiling, “Far away is near, but what’s closer than near is naturally the state of mind of us cultivators. We’ve all seen the bright moon, so there’s a bright moon in our hearts, whether it’s bright or dim. Even if it’s just a remnant shadow in the heart-lake, it can become She Yue’s best hiding place. Of course, the premise is that the difference in realm between She Yue and her opponent isn’t too great, otherwise she would be walking right into a trap. She Yue could be so arrogant when facing this junior, but if she were to encounter Senior, she would never dare to act so rashly.”

The Old Blind Man nodded.

Compared to when Chen Qingdu was young, he was much more meticulous.

Back then, among the many sword cultivators, Chen Qingdu was the most thoughtful, considering and acting after careful planning. The Dragon Lord only knew how to fight and kill, with an unrestrained edge. Chen Qingdu, in addition to wielding his sword, liked to open his eyes and look, looking at the world and the heavens, wanting to learn everything. As for his mind and shrewdness, it seemed that at the same age, he truly didn’t have as much as this Hidden Official in front of him.

So, no good comes from scholars.

The Old Blind Man asked again, “What if She Yue was willing to sacrifice a portion of her natal moon soul to shatter your strange flying sword?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head, finally speaking with his inner voice, “She can’t do it. I’ll let her go. I’ll withdraw the ‘Bird in a Cage’ sword, only maintaining the ‘Moon at the Bottom of the Well’ sword. At worst, I’ll use the shattering of a Five Thunder Talisman to exchange for that portion of her moon soul, to help me temper the ‘Moon at the Bottom of the Well’ flying sword. Even then, the deal is still not a loss, but a profit.”

Using the pure essence of the moon in the sky to temper the “Moon at the Bottom of the Well,” sharpening its edge, Chen Ping’an felt that even just thinking about it, if he had the chance to meet She Yue again in the future, the two sides could still give it a try.

In reality, Chen Ping’an didn’t have much attachment to whether or not he could keep She Yue at the time.

Especially after gleaning certain Dao manifestations when the flying sword shattered the moon, Chen Ping’an roughly learned that She Yue had hardly killed anyone in the Vast World, and Chen Ping’an had even less killing intent.

Earlier, when She Yue first ascended the city wall, he regarded her as a demon of the Wild Desolate World.

Chen Ping’an naturally aimed for a swift kill, because he was still on a major battlefield, and he seemed to be facing the entire demon army of the Wild Desolate World.

But when it became a veritable one-on-one fight, Chen Ping’an immediately changed his mindset.

Moreover, Chen Ping’an was also worried that She Yue would become enraged and return to the Sword Qi Great Wall in her complete form, fighting him to the death.

Therefore, he stopped at the end, only intercepting half a portion of her moon soul.

Thinking of this, Chen Ping’an looked up at the sky, where the sun, moon, and stars moved in their regular orbits. That void originally belonged to She Yue’s cultivation place. She took the moon to the human world, one round moon, divided into twenty parts, and he obtained one of them. He was very content.

If it were placed in his hometown’s Lotus Root Blessed Land of medium quality, it would be an extremely bright suspended moon, a round moon for the Mid-Autumn Festival, with beautiful flowers, a perfect moon, and family gathered together.

Every year on the fifteenth of August, the round moon is like a large mirror, and everyone in the blessed land admires the moon as if facing a mirror, seeing everyone they want to see besides themselves.

Of course, since it was promised to the first disciple as a gift for breaking through in martial arts, Chen Ping’an didn’t feel the slightest reluctance.
Outside the city, the old blind man nodded gently.

Although this Hidden Official’s identity as a scholar was somewhat off-putting, a young man with such intelligence could not be wrong. If he also hoped for a better world, all the better.

In the past, there was a scholar from a prominent family in the vast world of Haoran. He first traveled to the Great Wall of Swords and Qi, and then to the Hundred Thousand Mountains. Of considerable seniority and with passable cultivation, he sought out the old blind man and declared with certainty that they, as men of letters, only wrote about the reality of the world. They only needed to write about the tragedies and pitiful people of the world, and they were not responsible for how the reader felt upon reading their works. Whether the reader became more hopeless or even numb was of no concern. They simply wanted everyone to know the wretchedness and unbearable nature of this world…

As a result, the old blind man, tired of hearing such words, slapped him half to death without a second thought.

It wasn’t that the old blind man was angered by those words; the Great Dao was vast and allowed for all paths. As he was neither his son nor his disciple, the old blind man didn’t bother to interfere.

It was simply that he had broken the rules by coming to the entrance of his mountain home and dared to arrive empty-handed. He had to leave something behind.

The reason he was only left half-dead was not because the old blind man showed mercy, but because the family’s ancestor rushed over and rescued the remnant of his soul, taking him back to Haoran.

Nearby, Ah Liang was gloating, his face saying, “I didn’t do anything.”

Later, Ah Liang returned, unusually sober, and spoke a few words of wisdom. He said that such famous works, no matter how well-written, were still not good enough. It was still the act of a coward, trying to share his unbearable suffering with the reader.

The old blind man asked him why he didn’t write himself.

That scoundrel simply leaned against the wooden gate, running his hands through his hair, and said, “I have seen too many families who write books with their lives instead of pens, shining brightly in the mortal world, writing epics that last for millennia and short stories that span decades.”

Chen Pingan, seeing the old senior silent for so long, couldn’t help but ask, “Senior, is there something you need me to do?”

The old blind man collected his thoughts and shook his head. “I just came to take a look.”

The old dog dared only mutter in its heart, “The old blind man’s eyes are gone; what is he looking at?”

It missed that scoundrel Ah Liang; the old blind man was always more helpless when dealing with him.

Chen Pingan suddenly bowed respectfully.

The old blind man smiled. “What, are you trying to persuade me to put in more effort?”

Chen Pingan straightened up and said, “Junior is grateful for senior’s great disappointment, yet you can be disappointed alone for ten thousand years.”

As the ancient saying goes, mountains stand tall because of the unevenness of nature.

This old senior, who was essentially imprisoned for ten thousand years, held even greater injustice in his heart.

The old blind man nodded, raised a withered hand, and scratched his cheek, a rare smile appearing. “Very good, I almost couldn’t help but beat you half to death. You’re indeed clever enough, knowing how to cherish your blessings. Otherwise, I estimate that you wouldn’t need the Dragon Lord and Liu Cha to come looking for trouble.”

Chen Pingan smiled wryly.

This old senior, whom the eldest sword immortal had visited twice, didn’t seem like the joking type.

The old blind man turned and left.

He truly just came to take a look and chat for a few words.

As for the Dragon Lord, the old blind man had nothing to say, and he assumed the other party felt the same. Old friends from the past, now like strangers.

The old dog in the Ascension Realm happily followed behind the old blind man.

The Dragon Lord also dissipated his form, returning to an empty grey robe.

Chen Pingan suddenly shouted, “Old senior, how is Ah Liang?”

The old blind man didn’t turn around and said, “He’s a mountain-supporting tortoise, enjoying himself immensely, that scoundrel.”

Chen Pingan felt both worried and relieved. It seemed that hoping Ah Liang would come often was out of the question for now.

Chen Pingan took one last look. The mountain and water restrictions had been reopened, but what he saw in his heart was Mount Tuoyue, facing the Great Wall of Swords and Qi from afar. The landscape was different, but old friends were safe.

He wanted to drink again.

Chen Pingan first secretly took out a pot of wine from the flying sword Fifteen, then stealthily teleported it into the small world within his sleeve. Just as he took out the wine pot and was about to take a sip, the Dragon Lord shattered the wine pot and the wine with a single sword strike.

Chen Pingan was used to it. His figure flashed and disappeared, returning to the city wall. Imitating the students and disciples walking, he swayed his shoulders and sleeves, loudly proclaiming that the stinky tofu was delicious, and it would surely be even better with stewed old dog meat.

Chen Pingan didn’t know that he couldn’t see the world outside the Great Wall of Swords and Qi.

But the old blind man could clearly “see” the scenery on the city wall.

The old dog, taking advantage of the old blind man’s relatively good mood, muttered, “I didn’t provoke him. We only met once, and he’s already eyeing my flesh. How hateful, how hateful.”

The old blind man mocked, “You deserve to provoke the Hidden Official of the Great Wall of Swords and Qi? Who lent you the dog胆?”

The old dog dared not retort, only wagging its tail obediently.

Hundreds of miles away from Mount Tuoyue, at the place where the old blind man had stopped, a temporary restricted area had been marked off.

A pot of fine wine was placed there. The old blind man had deliberately left it there.

The great demons guarding Mount Tuoyue didn’t move the wine pot, turning a blind eye, and letting it sit alone on the ground.

Even after confirming that the pot of wine was ordinary and without any anomalies, no great demon touched it.

For tens of thousands of years, the savage lands had been ruled by the strong.

The old blind man, who controlled a territory, was one of the few Fourteenth Realm cultivators in the various worlds.

Now, in the savage lands, after Xiao Xun traveled through the ancient well abyss, another Fourteenth Realm cultivator had emerged, but she had merged with the fate of the savage lands, not purely merging with the world through her natal flying sword.

The Fourteenth Realm was too mysterious and unfathomable. No one could ask about the differences between the two.

In fact, they could ask Ah Liang under Mount Tuoyue, but who would dare to provoke him, adding fuel to the fire and making things worse? Did they really think he couldn’t leave Mount Tuoyue?

Mount Tuoyue and Ah Liang were both a form of suppression and a delicate balance, like well water not interfering with river water.

After all, it was Ah Liang himself who didn’t want to yield that path and ask for a duel with Mount Tuoyue.

A great demoness who, according to seniority, was Senior Sister Li Zhen’s junior, with the beauty and figure of Haoran, came to the chaotic void under Mount Tuoyue.

She looked from afar at the seated Confucian dharma image, using a cushion of numerous golden words, resembling a hermit who had come to borrow the mountain for cultivation.

She couldn’t understand why this man had made such a choice. Zhou, the master of the Literary Sea, had once explained the true meaning of “man is for himself, heaven and earth will destroy him.”
Therefore, she couldn’t comprehend A-Liang’s self-destructive cultivation even more.

The slovenly man straightened up when he saw the female cultivator from Mount Tuoyue, “Sister Xinzhuang, why is your makeup still the same as when we first met?”

The great demon, going by the pseudonym Xinzhuang, recalled their past encounter with some effort, then frowned and said, “What nonsense are you spouting!”

Did his fabrication just hit a wall?

A-Liang was least afraid of such situations, wearing a deeply affectionate expression, “It seems Sister Xinzhuang remembers our first meeting vividly, greatly comforting my heart. How many worthy men are there, that Sister Xinzhuang would remember for a century?”

Xinzhuang scoffed, “If you had another choice, how many sword strikes would you use to kill me?”

A-Liang felt a little shy. This old woman really knows how to tease, almost making him unable to withstand it.

Xinzhuang didn’t understand the deeper meaning, only thinking that this man was once again lost in reverie, dividing his attention between controlling his sword intent and suppressing the spatial anomaly beneath their feet.

A-Liang felt that this was a rare opportunity, he had to use his trump card.

It’s a rare reunion, his handsome appearance remains unchanged, his swordsmanship is even higher, surely that elder sister is already used to it, so let’s add some romance between a talented scholar and a beautiful lady.

A-Liang coughed, clearing his throat.

Unexpectedly, Xinzhuang coldly said, “Shut up.”

This man, once traveled the desolate lands alone on his sword, because he constantly courted trouble, many great demons had personally witnessed his sword-riding figure.

He would loudly recite poetry while placing his hands on his waist, glorifying it as a fusion of sword immortal and poetry immortal. You must know that behind him, there were great demons constantly bombarding him with spells, chasing after him.

A-Liang sighed, a beauty who doesn’t appreciate romance is most disappointing, betraying the good intentions of a worthy man.

Xinzhuang asked, “Now that you have such a realm, why don’t you cherish it?”

A-Liang said, “I can sincerely answer, but Sister Xinzhuang must first listen to my words.”

Xinzhuang nodded.

As expected, there were no surprises.

The man clapped his knee with his hand and recited poetry with a smile.

The smile was not much, but the voice was loud, “This is my, A-Liang’s, original ‘Three Farewells Song’.”

“The Road to Shu is Hard, Bring in the Wine, Dream Visit to Mount Tianmu Leave Behind.”

“The Song of the Pipa Player, The Song of Everlasting Regret, An Ode on the Ancient Grassland at Farewell.”

“Lament for the Royal Grandson, No Home to Leave, The Painting Summons General Cao.”

“If not for predicting the exam questions, otherwise, replacing it with that Mud Skill Mountain, Carrying Firewood, One Hundred and Fifty Nights Gazing at the Moon. That would also be very good.”

“Wash the Troops and Horses, Give Flowers to Qing, Strolling Alone by the River Seeking a Perfect Line. Hmm, replacing it with Ten Rhymes on Rising Water at Three Rivers Temple, that seems even better.”

“Good heavens, such a fountain of literary thoughts, like a runaway cart, unable to stop! Truly amazing.”

Xinzhuang said, “Have you finished talking nonsense?”

Finally, A-Liang nodded, his expression a smile yet not a smile, placing his hands in fists on his knees, muttering to himself, “What a lament of Jia Yi’s cry, lonely and without his kind. What a drunkard falling from his horse that people shouldn’t laugh at, inviting all gentlemen to watch with wine.”

Xinzhuang quietly waited for the answer.

Why, A-Liang, do you not cherish the fourteenth realm of a sword cultivator?

“Because I cherish this hard-won fourteenth realm very much.”

A-Liang didn’t act shamelessly, laughing, “Unfortunately, Sister Xinzhuang, you’re not young and haven’t traveled enough, so you don’t understand. After all, it’s hard to connect with the heart of a swordsman.”

Xinzhuang remained silent.

Be it a swordsman or a sword cultivator, the entire world acknowledges them.

Only this man’s overly forceful “pretending” to be a refined person is truly nauseating, making one feel, why bother so much, just be your sword immortal.

Xinzhuang once asked Mister Zhou, if the vast world was full of people like A-Liang, what would Mister Zhou choose?

Mister Zhou smiled and said, then I wouldn’t come to your hometown. And the reason why A-Liang is A-Liang is because there is only one A-Liang.

Legend has it that A-Liang recklessly roamed the desolate lands alone with his sword several times, precisely to find Zhou Mi, the “Jia Yi” who, in his early years, was frustrated and could only cry with ghosts and gods.

It’s just that Zhou Mi always refused to see him.

A-Liang suddenly stood up, his expression solemn, and loudly recited the words from the book he read in his youth, words that gave him great inspiration early on.

“Eyes reach ten thousand miles, mind wanders the great wilderness, boldness shatters the earth, the heavens look up to it.”

“Clouds steam and dragons transform, spring intertwines with tree flowers. Creation is within me, is it my mind or my hand?”

All of A-Liang’s words transformed into golden characters as large as mountains, smashing into the abyss beneath the golden prayer mat.

The characters even manifested a golden dragon, spring winds and tree flowers, emerging in the white clouds, suppressing the soaring baleful aura.

Confucian saints, vast and righteous energy. Mouth contains the decree of heaven, words become law.

Deep, deep beneath the ground, there was earth-shattering movement, as if a road was blocked, forcing it to temporarily retreat, but the remaining momentum still slowly transmitted to the golden prayer mat.

Making Xinzhuang feel only shock and awe.

The man smoothed back his hair, smiling and asking the great demoness of Mount Tuoyue, “Is a scholar, fierce or not?!”