Shao Baojuan chuckled, “Like the autumn wind over the Wei River, only those willing take the bait.”

Chen Ping’an inquired, “Then, is this the road to Liyang?”

Shao Baojuan nodded directly. “Impressive erudition, to remember even this.”

Even later generations who wholeheartedly pursue Buddhism often wouldn’t pay much attention to such an insignificant place name when meticulously studying Buddhist cases.

Chen Ping’an was enlightened. Lixian County also had a jurisdiction named Mengxi. No wonder the Shen Proofreader would be loitering around here, seemingly a regular customer of that specialized gazetteer bookstore. Shen Proofreader was likely similar to Shao Baojuan, not from the local Tiaomu City. However, he possessed the advantage of hindsight, seizing every opportunity. Thus, he enjoyed scavenging for treasures. Shao Baojuan seemed to acquire several treasures in the blink of an eye, undoubtedly having other opportunities in different cities, waiting for the City Lord Shao to leverage “borrowing a stone from another mountain to polish jade,” to obtain them one by one. The opportunities and treasures that Shao Baojuan and Shen Proofreader gained in Tiaomu City today, whether it was Shen Proofreader’s book, the treasured saber “Small Eyebrow,” the bag of Emerald Green pigment, or the strand of fiber rope, were all genuine.

As for the gaunt old Daoist’s covetous gaze, Chen Ping’an wasn’t too concerned. It wasn’t like back in the Skeleton Beach Ghost Valley where he was destined to only flee. Chen Ping’an’s only worry at the moment was triggering a chain reaction, such as the brawny man with the curly beard next to the fortune-telling stall, especially Shao Baojuan, who might have hidden countless tricks waiting for him.

It was like a swordsman from the Central Plains touring the Great Wall of Sword Qi, facing someone who had already become an Honorary Official – the outcome wasn’t about realm, but about timing and location.

The monk who had originally planned to buy pastries also noticed Chen Ping’an. He stopped talking to the old woman and hoisted his carrying pole again, which held handwritten copies of the “Azure Dragon Commentary.” He asked, “Seeing that you’re also a northerner, are you heading south to see those bottom-dwellers?”

Shao Baojuan remained inscrutable but was slightly surprised. The monk had given this person the label of “northerner” upon their first meeting. Shao Baojuan was a voracious reader, most familiar with various allusions. As a city lord, he could easily travel to different cities, seizing the opportunity to wait, follow, and seek Chan from the monk in Tiaomu City. Even after copying dozens of koans clearly recorded in later generations, he had gained nothing from the monk. Thus, Shao Baojuan’s mind raced, immediately developing some calculations.

Chen Ping’an pressed his palms together in respect, saluting the monk later known as “Zhou Vajra,” then shook his head. He hesitated, glanced at the walking sticks in Pei Qian and Xiao Mili’s hands, and smiled at the monk, “How about owing sixty strikes first?”

According to the history books of Vast Sky, the monk would stop at Dragon Pool, burn his hand-written scriptures, speak the words “not doubting the tongues of old monks,” build a thatched hut atop the mountain, scold Buddhas and ancestors, and utter the Zen koan “whether it can be spoken or not, it’s thirty strikes.”

Over at the bookstore, the old shopkeeper leaned against the door, watching the excitement from afar.

Not many outsiders who disembark first head to Tiaomu City; they mostly disembark and settle down in Tuichiao City or Benmo City. Moreover, year after year, locals have seen countless headless flies running amok. A blue-robed swordsman like today, so cautious and prudent, seemingly so confident and prepared, is truly rare. As for Shao Baojuan, with his deep karmic luck, he’s the biggest exception. The bookstore owner slightly withdrew his gaze, glancing at the weapon shop. The scholar Du was also standing at the door, holding a bowl of sour plum soup from Benmo City in one hand, gnawing on a piece of Tongling white ginger with a leisurely air. It seemed that this Five Pines Gentleman had completed the full content of the “Fragrant Breath of Flowers” calligraphy from the hands of the City Lord of Rongmao City, Shao Baojuan. Therefore, the scholar Du would soon be able to exchange this calligraphy for a cherished opportunity in Youyong City, also known as White-Eyed City. On the ferries between cities, a sentence, an event, an object – they have always circulated in this way, not easily obtained, and even harder to maintain.

The bookstore owner found it strange. Why did the scholar Du’s gaze seem to linger so many times on the long sword on the blue-robed guest’s back? Could it be an old acquaintance? Impossible; the young man’s age doesn’t match.

How strange. Before boarding, the scholar Du was once a first-rate mountain alchemist in Vast Sky, wielding scarlet lightning and purple smoke with great power. It was said that most of the Tongling Mountains near his hometown had been refined away by him. Even long swords of demi-immortal grade rarely caught the scholar Du’s eye. Furthermore, this caused a huge joke due to the scholar Du’s mountain opening and refining, which was recorded in Tiaomu City’s archives under the article “Ridiculous Chapters.” According to it, there used to be a Xuyi Water God’s mansion next to the scholar Du’s hometown, where the shrimp soldiers and crab generals in the great river were known as “the most robust in Vast Sky.” As a result, the Five Pines Gentleman refined and cooked away a small half of them, causing the water mansion great suffering, forcing them to appeal for justice at the Confucian Temple. Could that long sword carried by the outsider be the immortal relic of someone the scholar Du knew in his early years?

The monk on the street was somewhat puzzled. He returned a salute, pressing his palms together. Before he moved to continue carrying his load, he suddenly asked Chen Ping’an, “Having emerged from the righteous academy’s principles, does the monk now carry a scholar’s air?”

Chen Ping’an was speechless. The monk shook his head and headed out of the city with his load. Just as he was about to pass Chen Ping’an, he suddenly stopped, turned to look at Chen Ping’an, and asked again, “Why can your myriad eyes discern the finest details, but not directly perceive your own face?”

Chen Ping’an replied, “Only waiting for a Chan lamp to shine, to illuminate the past and future, to open the true eye, to shatter the dim path.”

The monk frowned slightly.

Chen Ping’an countered, “Who will light the lamp? How will the lamp be lit?”

The monk laughed loudly, “Well answered! My kind, my kind! Truly not those southern bottom-dwellers.”

Chen Ping’an hesitated, wanting to say something but stopping. Zen Buddhism in Vast Sky has a north-south divide, but in Chen Ping’an’s view, there is no superiority between the two, always believing that gradual and sudden enlightenment are the same path.

The monk had already gone far with his load, his figure seeming to vanish at the city gate in the blink of an eye.

Shao Baojuan spoke with mental voice transmission, kindly reminding, “Opportunities are hard to come by and easily lost; you should strike while the iron is hot.”

Chen Ping’an remained silent.

Shao Baojuan smiled, “I have no intention of plotting against you; it’s Honorary Official who is overthinking.”
Chen Ping’an narrowed his eyes and asked, “What? Does City Lord Shao possess such grand ambition, that he seeks to collect Deshan’s staff, Linji’s shout, Yunmen’s cake, and Zhaozhou’s tea?”

Shao Baojuan replied with a helpless smile, “I was indeed somewhat greedy before, but Hidden Official has waylaid me, seizing sixty strikes of the staff, and not even the original thirty at that. Naturally, it is utterly impossible now.”

Shao Baojuan suddenly smiled, then questioned, “Shall we consider it even then? From now on, you and I will keep to our own paths, each seeking our own fortunes, never the twain shall meet?”

Chen Ping’an remained noncommittal, and merely laughed, “What kind of City Lord are you, Shao? If we are to keep to our own paths, then I must know where the well and the river each lie.”

Shao Baojuan smiled faintly, “In this time, in this place, knowledge is not freely given. Hidden Official need not feign ignorance.”

Chen Ping’an had already discerned the general outlines of the matter. Aboard this ferry, at least within the Cities of Lists and Roots, one’s knowledge and insights – for example, the truth of how the peaks were formed, known to Shen the Corrector, or Shao Baojuan’s act of completing the blank scroll with text – once verified as accurate by the ferry’s “certain entity,” could earn one a fortune, great or small. But what was the price? Most likely, it was leaving a wisp of one’s soul on this ferry, to become one of those “living immortals” that Pei Qian had read about in ancient texts, trapped within some kind of textual prison. If Chen Ping’an’s assumptions were correct, then as long as one was careful enough, like this City Lord Shao Baojuan, going from door to door, only doing what was certain and only saying what was certain, then in theory, the later one boarded this ferry, the easier it would be to profit. But the problem was that this ferry was obscure and hidden from the world, easily leading one astray. One misstep could mean utter ruin.

As for why Chen Ping’an had immediately reminded Pei Qian and Rice Kernel not to answer when he first saw the “City of Lists,” it stemmed from when he had traveled with Lu Tai in Tongye Continent. Lu Tai had inadvertently mentioned a ferry, and jokingly asked Chen Ping’an what the most difficult thing in the world was to deal with. Later, when Chen Ping’an returned to the Sword Qi Great Wall, during his leisure time, he searched through the secret archives of the Bixue Palace, and found a record of the ferry under his feet. It came from his own door-to-door readings as a student, where, on the final page of a book titled “True Pearl Ship,” he saw a note about the Night Ferry. Because his hometown had a mountain called True Pearl Mountain, and because Chen Ping’an was extremely interested in the diverse content of the “True Pearl Ship,” he did not merely skim it like many books, but carefully read it from beginning to end, until he reached the final page. That was when he saw the line, “Before, there was the True Pearl Ship; after, there is the Night Ferry. The sea of knowledge is boundless, a single skiff, patched and mended, carries people on a night journey through the myriad worlds and ages.”

Next to the words, there was a crooked line of writing, which Chen Ping’an immediately recognized, “Screw you! I’ll smash it to pieces with two fists!”

Therefore, later, on the ramparts of the city, Chen Ping’an had uttered the unintentional words, “Of all the knowledge in the world, the Night Ferry is the most difficult to deal with.”

When Chen Ping’an returned to the Vast World, in Mirage City, he stumbled upon the book stamp that Fei Ran had deliberately left by Liu Mao’s side. Seeing those seals, he realized that the two sentences in the book were probably a casual annotation from Xiao Xun, the previous Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall, to Zhou Mi, the previous Judge.

As for why this City Lord Shao targeted him so madly, as long as Chen Ping’an found the fundamental threads of this Night Ferry, he could naturally do as the locals did, and then follow the vines, and have a good battle of wits with Shao Baojuan.

Pei Qian was not worried about the City Lord Shao Baojuan. In any case, her master was watching. Pei Qian’s attention was more focused on the emaciated old Daoist priest. She glanced at the crooked banner with the words “To Obtain the Secret of Immortality, First Pass This Immortal Altar,” and then at the array on the ground in front of the stall. Pei Qian took down the bamboo basket from her back, placed it on the ground, and had Rice Kernel stand in it again. Pei Qian then used her Mountain-Walking Staff to point at the ground, drawing a circle around the basket. With a gentle thrust, the Mountain-Walking Staff entered the ground with ease, as if cutting tofu, sinking an inch or so. With the Mountain-Walking Staff planted in the ground, Pei Qian released her grip, and several strands of silk entwined, as if sword qi lingered, along with the golden thunder pool, forming a miniature sword array to protect the basket.

Pei Qian lightly shook her sleeve, her right hand quietly clutching a yellow bamboo paper cutter, a one-foot object given by Yu Pan Shui. Pei Qian reached in again, and the paper cutter returned to her sleeve, but her left hand now held an extremely heavy iron rod. Her body slightly bent, she assumed the White Ape Backing Sword stance. With a light twist of her wrist, the long rod drew a circle, and finally one end gently tapped the ground, ripples spreading out, as if countless water patterns rippled across the street.

In the Thunder God Temple of Mahu Prefecture, in Snowy Continent, Pei Qian had divided a half-immortal weapon, a silver spear given by Yu Xuan, into three, breaking off the sharp spear tips that resembled knife edges, ultimately turning it into a pair of knives and a rod.

The brawny man with the curly beard glanced at Pei Qian, who was drawing a talisman with her staff as a sword, and nodded slightly, not concealing his admiration.

What the old Daoist priest saw was different from his neighbor, the brawny man. He marveled, “Little girl, you don’t look very old, and I won’t mention your little tricks, but you’ve got some strength in your limbs. Who did you learn your martial arts from? Could it be that young Wang Fu Su from Ju Lu Continent, or Wu Shu from Tongye Continent? I heard that things are looking good down the mountain these days. Many martial artists, each one better than the last, but it’s a pity that a woman got there first. Do you have any martial arts connection with that woman?”

Pei Qian said, “If Immortal wants to spar with my master in Daoist arts, you might as well ask me for a few punches first.”

The man squatting on the ground smiled a little, “Lord Feng is indeed an old immortal, but unfortunately his martial arts are not very good. If it’s a question of fists, even if you go to Lord Feng’s territory, Bird-Raising Mountain, the old immortal will still lose for sure. Little girl, you’re very smart.”

The old Daoist priest turned around and began to shout, “In the capital city of Kongtong Mistress, there’s a guy who looks at himself in the mirror every day, shouting ‘What a fine head, who will chop it off?’, who is he saying that to? How dare you say I’m not good? What are your ten thousand armored soldiers for? Don’t forget, I scattered beans to make soldiers and cut paper to make generals to help you gather more than ten thousand soldiers to make up the full number of ten thousand. You ungrateful thing…”

The brawny man with the crimson beard sat down on the ground and laughed, “Didn’t I return a Sea Gate to you too?”

Pei Qian immediately said in her mind, “Master, it seems that these people have the means of ‘Another World’, this Bird-Raising Mountain of the what-is-it Feng Lord, and the ten thousand armored soldiers of this kindhearted bearded man, are probably all capable of forming their own small worlds in this List City.”
Chen Ping’an responded inwardly, “This titled lord, if he truly is a high-ranking Taoist of the ‘Azure Ox Daoist’ lineage, and his Daoist temple is indeed on Bird-Raising Mountain, then the old immortal is quite aged. Let’s observe quietly.”

The old Daoist grew angrier with each word, kicking the cotton cloth stall, sending the bottles and jars tumbling in disarray. “I’ll teach you to side with outsiders and help them bully locals! After I close up shop, I’ll definitely report you to the city lord!”

The burly man grabbed a corner of the cotton cloth, moved it a bit, trying to distance himself from the fortune-telling stall, his face full of helplessness. “Why are you arguing with me? You’ve got the wrong person, haven’t you?”

The titled lord then remembered to look again at the blue-robed, sword-carrying traveler and asked, “The one carrying a leaking wine vessel on the street, is he not a bald donkey but a Taoist, yes or no?! Tell me the truth! Just a sincere word from you, boy!”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “If the Daoist arts are supposedly without flaw, then if there’s a Taoist carrying a leaking vessel on the street, why blame me?”

The old Daoist stamped his foot, annoyed and yet amused. “Good heavens, scholars these days are even more adept at twisting logic.”

Shao Baojuan suddenly interjected, “The Great Dao is fifty, the Heavenly Evolution forty-nine, so whether it is perfection or imperfection is just a matter of saying. What one speaks with the mouth may not be what one believes in the heart.”

Chen Ping’an asked, “City Lord Shao, are you still not done with this?”

In an instant.

Chen Ping’an found himself in a scenic and strategically important place.

The streets of Itemized City were gone, replaced by a mountain path where an old Daoist riding an azure ox was coming towards him, a travel bag slung across his shoulder, adorned with a row of bamboo tubes that clinked melodically against each other.

Chen Ping’an looked at the azure ox, his expression momentarily dazed. He was stunned for a while because, if he remembered correctly, when Zhao Yao left the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven, he was riding in a wooden ox-cart, a young man in blue robes, pulled by an azure ox. It was said that there was also a dull-looking cart driver at the time. Chen Ping’an also remembered something else, that the city patrol rider with the long halberd in Itemized City had said something nonsensical, “No soaring ascensions allowed.” Could it be that this azure ox Daoist was able to attain a false, ethereal state of being, like a living immortal, within this separate world?

In the street, Shao Baojuan smiled knowingly. How many strange things were on the ferry! No matter how cautious Chen Ping’an was, and how carefully he sailed for ten thousand years, he would still capsize in this ditch.

If Shao Baojuan didn’t have exceptional aptitude for cultivation, he would have long become a living immortal here, let alone become a city lord. There are probably three people in the world who are most favored here. One is the Fire Dragon True Man of Northern Ju-lu Continent, and the other is likely to have a mysterious Great Dao rivalry with Shao Baojuan, the “Dream Traveler” of Flowing Glow Continent.

In Itemized City, only a moment passed.

Chen Ping’an seemed to step out of a doorway, his figure reappearing in the original spot in Itemized City, but the long sword “Night Wanderer” on his back was gone.

At the same time, the fortune-telling stall and the azure ox Daoist had also disappeared into thin air.

Pei Qian was calm and composed, not even asking a question.

Chen Ping’an still reassured her softly, “It’s alright.”

Shao Baojuan clasped his fists with a smile and took his leave.

Chen Ping’an nodded, “Until we meet again.”

A beautiful young woman came gracefully, first smiling sweetly at Shao Baojuan. “City Lord Shao, are you leaving already?”

Shao Baojuan smiled, “Next time I enter the city, I will visit your master again.”

With just one step, the scholar disregarded the city’s restrictions, shrinking the mountains and rivers, and left Itemized City in the blink of an eye, seemingly returning with a full load.

Chen Ping’an asked with a smile, “May I ask who your master is?”

The girl replied with a smile, “My master, the current city lord of Itemized City, was once known as Li Shilang in the sword immortals’ hometown.”

At the same time, just after Shao Baojuan left, someone else came, a youth, who bowed to Chen Ping’an. “My city lord is currently creating a seal matrix. The primary seal text is ‘Wine Immortal Poet Buddha, Sword Coeval with Eternity’. Dozens of other seal texts also need your help to complete, sir.”