**Spring Mountain Academy.**

The old scholar had already embarked on a long journey across the continent, returning to the Central Earth Temple of Culture.

If he didn’t return soon, the Temple might send someone to block his door and hurl insults.

Before leaving, the old scholar chatted with the young Daoist priest for a while.

Immortal Guard Cao was overcome with emotion. Was this really Celestial Master Cao’s mentor? The old gentleman had a kind face, but the problem was that he seemed just as destitute as he was.

Xiao Mo and Chen Ping’an walked side-by-side in front, saying, “That Emperor, he could still feign composure at the dinner table, but as soon as he got into the carriage to leave, his heartstrings began to flutter violently. It seems that Young Master has brought him a considerable amount of pressure.”

Chen Ping’an chuckled, “We just chatted casually about this and that. Clever people like to overthink things, which can be both good and bad.”

For example, he had asked the Emperor whether scholars should debate matters of state and whether cultivators should examine their hearts when acting.

Now that Grand Preceptor Cui Chan was gone, those Song family nobles from Hua County and Wei Township, led by the Imperial Clan Court, were the most active around the imperial court. Did His Majesty intend to manage them, and if so, how?

The Great Li Dynasty had once erected a stele on the mountain, inscribed with the national laws, for the half-continent south of the Capital and the Great Du. In the past, the Great Li’s vassals, according to agreement, had been able to restore their countries based on their respective war merits. As a result, some countries began to dismantle the stone steles within their borders. Would the Great Li Dynasty abide by the rules and not interfere in other people’s affairs, or would it have officials from the Court of Diplomatic Reception or the Ministry of Rites in the Capital to offer a reminder or suggestion?

For example, many officials in the Capital were currently suggesting that the Great Li move the capital. What were His Majesty’s thoughts on this matter?

In fact, many questions were not that complicated. For example, regarding other countries removing steles, the Great Li Dynasty was no longer the suzerain state, so why bother?

It was just that Chen Ping’an had deliberately started with a “small matter,” leading Emperor Song He to overthink everything.

Moreover, this Emperor was too eager to rely on Chen Ping’an becoming the Great Li’s Grand Preceptor as a panacea.

The Central Earth Temple of Culture, the mountains of one continent, the Capital of Great Li, the Prince Song Mu, the Northern Ju Lu Continent in the north, the Tong Ye Continent in the south…

He was thinking too simply.

They returned to the capital together.

Chen Ping’an sent out three letters. One was a flying sword message to his own Fallen Mountain, informing them that he was about to return home.

He also sent one to Liu Jinglong of the Taiwei Sword Sect, saying that he was about to establish a lower sect and that he must attend the celebration. The specific time was yet to be determined, but when crossing continents south, remember to stop by the Great Li Capital and guide Han Zhoujin’s formations.

This female formation master from Qingtan Blessed Land had an extraordinary background and origins in the mountains.

Among the Earthly Branches cultivators, Chen Ping’an actually favored two the most: her and Ge Ling, even more than Yuan Huajing and Song Xu, two sword cultivators with a high chance of reaching the Upper Five Realms.

It was based on intuition.

Also, last time when drinking at Changpu River, Guan Yiran brought up the topic through the Inkstone Affairs Office, so Chen Ping’an had to remind Dong Shuiing to be careful of certain jealous young masters in the capital.

Dong Shuiing’s business methods could be described as a “Five-Eight Flower Gate,” which included monopolizing mountain peaks, quietly monopolizing flowers, jade, wood, and even spring water, and then paying various mountain gazettes to help publicize them, before distributing them to a few or a dozen buyers. Dong Shuiing himself often did not participate directly in sales. Cao Gengxin, Yuan Zhengding, Fu Yu, Wu Yuan… as long as they were sons of wealthy families who had served as officials in Longzhou, they all had a share. Not to mention those mountain sects, just the Sun and Fan families of the Old Dragon City in the south—any friend introduced by Chen Ping’an seemed to become Dong Shuiing’s friend.

In Dong Shuiing’s words, “I’m just a legitimate businessman, only earning money from rich people.”

The private docks and immortal ferries that were nominally owned by others but actually belonged to Dong Shuiing were probably not just a few.

“Half-City Dong”?

He was almost “Half-Continent Dong”!

It was hard to imagine that this impoverished young man who had dropped out of Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven halfway through was starting his business selling wontons and sweet fermented rice wine.

It didn’t matter how rich he was, Dong Shuiing was still a waste in Lin Shouyi’s eyes…

Similarly, no matter how high Lin Shouyi’s cultivation realm was now, in Dong Shuiing’s eyes, he was just a coward. What was the use of Lin Shouyi’s learning? Wasn’t he still the same kind of good-for-nothing as himself?

In the twilight, Zhou Haijing moved a bench and sat in the courtyard to cool off, holding a delicate silk fan embroidered with ladies playing with butterflies, gently waving it. The hair at her temples and the collar of her clothes fluttered gently.

“A light silk fan to chase fireflies”—how refined, just like the daughters of noble families.

Two street urchins at the door had decided to rely on her, this Aunt Zhou. A foreigner who was also a martial artist—wasn’t she the wandering heroine from the storyteller’s tales, possessing secret skills and playing in the mortal world?

A handsome young man named Wan Yan sat at the door with his back to the courtyard, resting his chin in his hand, lost in thought.

The tall young man slouched at the door, grinning, wishing he had learned an immortal art that could turn him into the fan in Aunt Zhou’s hand.

Zhou Haijing bent her fingers and pointed at Gao You.

Gao You smiled and said, “Sister Zhou, when are you going to find a husband? Wan Yan and I can help set up the banquet and collect the gift money.”

Zhou Haijing lazily said, “Easy to find priceless treasures, hard to find a loving man.”

Gao You laughed heartily and said, “Sister Zhou, what do you think of me? Why don’t you just marry me? I’ll definitely worship you in the future.”

Zhou Haijing glanced at the young man. “I think you should just get together with Wan Yan. You’re good brothers. Today you suffer a little loss, tomorrow he suffers a little loss, and no one loses out in the end.”

Gao You was discouraged. This Aunt Zhou was really sharp-tongued.

In fact, these two young men were pitiful wretches who had fathers but no mothers. It was impossible to say they were upright, but it was also true that they didn’t have much evil in their hearts.

At their age, their blood was not yet settled. When they saw a woman with a full chest and a slender waist, they couldn’t control their eyes and wanted to steal a few more glances. It was normal.

But young men were still young men. If they really met a woman they liked, they would probably just hold hands during the day and still be unable to sleep half the night.

But if it were a man, when he saw a woman with a good figure, he would think about where the bed was.

Just like Gao You, who had been rough and handsy the first time they met, secretly liked a childhood sweetheart. When they met on the road, he wouldn’t dare to be flirtatious, just one glance was enough.
However, Wan Yan appeared more composed, his mind heavy even at such a young age. Had he been born into a wealthy family, had he had the chance to study, he might have become a promising scholar. Alas, one’s birth is often beyond one’s control.

Zhou Haijing listened absentmindedly as the two youths by the doorway shifted their conversation to recent strange and interesting events in the capital. They spoke of two Jianghu sects engaging in a fierce battle on Hulu Street late one night, resulting in booming business for nearby clinics in recent days. Then there were the two immortal elders who emerged from the deep mountains and engaged in a genuine duel. One of them was even rumored to be a sword immortal of great renown. They said this sword immortal stood on the street that night, let out a roar that shattered roof tiles and scattered leaves, and then spat out a gleaming, ever-spinning sword pill that transformed into a golden rope several miles long, dragging the other immortal elder back to the ground. The storyteller by Jiaobei Bridge then claimed that this sword immortal, if one were to go by seniority, was actually his senior master from a different branch of the same lineage.

At that time, a troublemaker tried to debunk the story, asking the storyteller why he had been reduced to telling stories. The old man remained calm, sighed, and struck the table with his gavel, saying that he indeed had the makings of an immortal, but he had been too eager for quick success and had strayed from the path, ruining his cultivation.

Despite the jeers and catcalls from the audience, it was said that several ancestral secret manuals were sold that day.

Gao You had wanted to buy one, of course, but they couldn’t agree on the price. He thought it was too expensive. The storyteller asked for three taels of silver, saying that it was only because Gao You possessed a unique bone structure, otherwise, not even thirty taels would suffice. Gao You wasn’t foolish enough to let greed cloud his judgment. He thought three qian of silver was more like it. As for being an ancestral treasure, it should only be worth one liang at most.

Even now, there was a hint of regret in the tall youth’s words, feeling he might have missed a chance at an immortal destiny.

Zhou Haijing rolled her eyes.

Sword immortal?

The blue-robed man you saw earlier was the real mountain sword immortal.

She curled her lip. The Jade Purity Realm, how terrifying.

What if he was a lecherous rogue who preyed on women? What would she do?

She couldn’t defeat him, and he even claimed to be temporarily in charge of the Earthly Branch lineage. How would a young woman like her escape such a predicament?

Zhou Haijing was not stupid. During her casual conversation with Chen Ping An, both sides had concealed things, which was only natural.

Chen Ping An hoped she would take the initiative to seek him out so they could conduct a transaction openly and honestly.

He wasn’t domineering and even seemed sincere. In a business deal, the buyer, despite their desires, could resist the temptation to avoid being exploited by the seller. In the same way, would Chen Ping An, as the buyer, force the transaction, or would she, as the seller, be forced to sell? Zhou Haijing had been somewhat tempted because Yu Hong’s current status in the Jianghu wasn’t low, especially after the battle in the secondary capital. Yu Hong was adept at seeking fame and earning goodwill from both the mountain and the world. Especially after Yu Hong secured a first-class enshrined position in the Great Li Dynasty, she felt even more troubled. She had to avenge her great hatred, wipe out Fushutang and several other sects, and also survive.

However, Zhou Haijing was accustomed to traveling the Jianghu alone and didn’t want to complicate things or be dependent on others. It wasn’t her style to act according to someone else’s whims.

Two hundred and twenty-three lives, a life for a life. Zhou Haijing wouldn’t ask for more than one life from Yu Hong, but she wouldn’t settle for less either!

In the twilight, a dashing stranger emerged from the alleyway corner.

This was Su Lang’s second visit to Zhou Haijing. He had just received a secret order from the Great Li Ministry of Justice and would soon be leaving the capital to settle in the southern part of Baoping Continent. In the territory of the former White Frost Dynasty, he was responsible for secretly building a Jianghu sect. If, after ten years, the sect’s size and influence met the “grand plan” requirements of the Great Li Ministry of Justice and received a good evaluation, Su Lang could retire with success and be promoted to second-class enshrined status. For Su Lang, it wasn’t a particularly difficult task. The Jianghu was everywhere.

As a welcoming gift, Su Lang brought a pot of immortal wine from the mountains and a paper-wrapped package of crispy meat as a snack to go with the wine.

Gao You, with his sharp eyes, noticed the uninvited guest who seemed out of place here. He nudged his friend with his elbow. “Another expert?”

Compared to the blue-robed man in cloth shoes from a few days ago, this one, with his green bamboo flute hanging from his waist and a sword on his back, looked much more like an expert.

Wan Yan turned his head and said, “Seems like it.”

Gao You immediately got up, dusted off his backside, and trotted towards the expert, asking, “Who is this master looking for?”

In truth, the boy knew that he was there for Auntie Zhou, otherwise, why would he be here among the dirt and muck?

Although there were some clandestine prostitutes in the alley ahead, this man would definitely not be interested.

Su Lang ignored him.

The tall youth sidestepped, shamelessly saying, “I can help guide the way. It would be great if the master could reward me with a few coins.”

The two youths had once stolen a set of Cai Shen (God of Wealth) costumes from the opera house, and during the New Year, they would go to more distant places to visit shops and “pay respects,” dressed as the God of Wealth. Wan Yan was good with words and could use some literary language. The shops, fearing bad luck, wouldn’t dare to scold or beat the “God of Wealth” during the New Year and would give them some copper coins.

Su Lang still ignored the petty street urchin and walked straight to the door.

Zhou Haijing stood up, fanning herself with a silk fan, tapping her shoulder, and walked to the door. She glanced at the wine pot in Su Lang’s hand and smiled charmingly, “Next time, it would be best to bring a pot of Changchun Palace wine.”

Good wine makes people greedy.

Su Lang said helplessly, “Miss Zhou is making things difficult for me. The price is high, but I can manage. The problem is that Changchun wine has always been scarce in the capital. Every year, the new wine is divided among the mountain immortals and dignitaries. There’s none left for outsiders like me.”

These days in Baoping Continent, whether one can get their hands on Changchun Palace immortal wine is a symbol of status.

Changchun Palace is a local force of the Great Li Song family. Although they don’t have cultivators above the fifth realm yet, the Song family values relationships and supports Changchun Palace. In the Song family’s place of origin, among the hermits guarding the imperial tombs, there is an ancestor of Changchun Palace.
Seeing those two young men still wanting to act as door gods, Zhou Haijing pressed down on Gao You’s head, twisted his wrist, turned the tall youth around, and kicked him in the backside, “Even the most beautiful woman won’t fart out anything fragrant. If you’re hungry, go lick chicken droppings like they’re candy, there’s plenty of it, definitely enough to fill you up.”

Dismissing the two youths, he returned to the courtyard, waved his hand, and a long bench flew out from inside the house, landing in front of Su Lang. With another wave, Su Lang tossed the oiled paper package to Zhou Haijing.

Zhou Haijing drank and ate the crispy meat alone, his eyes gleaming brightly as he said, “The first time I rode a ferry of the Immortals, I thought that someday I would open my own tavern and have all the Immortal ferries of the Treasure Bottle Continent sell my wine. Tsk tsk, when the year ends and I convert the Immortal money into silver and gold, those mountains of riches, ah, just thinking about it makes me happy.”

Su Lang just smiled and drank, not taking it seriously.

If Zhou Haijing really wanted to earn Immortal money, she had plenty of connections on the mountain. As long as she was willing to put aside her pride, just relying on her status as a enshrined one and guest elder would bring in a substantial income every year, enough to create a grand painting worthy of a Sword Immortal.

In the future, the ancestral hall of the Lower Sect would hang the couplet gifted by Wu Shuangjiang, which was of equally astonishing quality.

If one were to add the twelve flying swords that Chen Ping’an obtained from the Jade Tablet City of the Cloud Pattern Dynasty, and combine them with the formation diagram of Taiping Mountain, which had always suffered from “a skilled cook finding it hard to make a meal without rice,” the effect would be a seamless offensive power.

Then in the future, the mountain and water arrays of both Fallen Mountain and the Lower Sect, both offensive and defensive, could be said to be at their peak.

As for this trip to the capital, it was not in vain.

According to Chen Ping’an’s previous estimation, the fragments of his Natal Porcelain, scattered outside, numbered somewhere between six and four.

Now, he had retrieved one piece from the Grand Empress Dowager of Great Li, which, as expected, was hidden in the house next to Chen Ping’an’s ancestral residence in Mud Bottle Lane.

In addition, the Ma family couple in Apricot Blossom Lane, and the Jade Forest Sect of the Northern Entirety Continent, all had a certain possibility of holding fragments. Chen Ping’an would ask about all of them clearly, asking in person.

Walking towards the bamboo building, Chen Ping’an said to Little Rice Grain with a smile, “I have to go to Xianyou County in another place right away. After I get back, I’ll take you to Red Candle Town.”

Yang Hua, the Water God of the Iron Talisman River, had already gone to the Central Grand Canal to serve as a duke.

However, the position of the new Water God of the Iron Talisman River remained vacant.

According to the latest Golden Jade Register promulgated by Great Li, the Iron Talisman River was of the third rank, and the Embroidery River Water God was of the fourth rank. Ye Zhuqing of the Tranquil River and Li Jin, the Water God of the Jade Nectar River, were only of the fifth rank.

As for the Dragon Beard River, which had long since risen from a stream to a river, Ma Lan Hua had also been promoted from River Granny to River God. Although her rank was not high, she should have built a temple and sculpted a golden statue, but according to Cui Dongshan, Old Yang had made a promise to that old woman in Apricot Blossom Lane that she could enjoy incense offerings after thirty years had passed.

Red Candle Town was not only a confluence of three rivers, but also a gathering of five streams. Among them, Lanxi County, located upstream of the Jade Nectar River, was known as the “waist of the six waters,” a typical small prefecture with a large county. Its pastries, waxberries, and loquats were all famous. Near the Lanxi River, there was also a rain-sheltering Immortal Cliff, as well as an underground river secretly connected to the Tranquil River.

Chen Ping’an would definitely have to visit the Jade Nectar River Temple and Water God’s Mansion.

The Water Goddess Li Qingzhu was also someone he would definitely have to meet.

Little Rice Grain covered her mouth with her hand, laughing and saying, “It’s a small matter, no rush, no rush.”

Lowering her hand, Little Rice Grain tugged at the rope of her diagonally slung cotton bag. It was heavy, and her shoulder was sore.

There were actually quite a few matters, big and small.

Disciples Zhao Shuxia, Zhao Luanluan, Zhang Jiazhen, talisman cultivator Jiang Qu…

He would also have to give Pei Qian a multi-treasure shelf he made himself.

In the backyard of the Yang family’s pharmacy, there was still a letter waiting for him to read.

When he returned from Qingyuan County, he would have to teach Pei Qian, his first personal disciple, boxing properly once on the second floor of the bamboo building.

He had found a place in a market town, in a county within the territory of the Yellow Court Kingdom, where he would become a teacher in a private school.

He arrived at the bamboo building.

Zhu Lian had brought Xiao Mo and Xian Wei to sit down at the stone table by the cliff.

Ning Yao followed Chen Ping’an into the house.

Just in Chen Ping’an’s residence on the first floor of the bamboo building, there was Wu Shuangjiang’s “The Moment We Met,” a calligraphy work. The two seals on the calligraphy had already lost their Daoist aura, but there was still a signature seal remaining, condensed with Daoist charm: “The heart is like a blue lotus in the world.”

There were also two calligraphy works that his teacher had personally obtained from Su Shi and Liu Yong, “Flower Blooming Note” and “Seeking Drunkenness Note,” both equally rich in Daoist charm and literary spirit.

Previously, when participating in the Confucian Temple discussions, he had happened to meet Lin Qing, a guest elder from the Qiu family of Yuzhou, Flowing Sunset Continent. They had become close, and the old man had given Chen Ping’an a thin relief seal, both the craftsmanship and materials were excellent.

The side inscription read: “West of the Golden Heaven, where the sun sets, Immortals drunk on wine, coming from the Moon Cave, flying swords like rainbows, feet kicking open the earth veins of the Southern Dipper, palms turning the Northern Dipper to illuminate the Heavenly Gate.”

The four words at the bottom of the seal read: “Once saw green robes.”

Placing the seal on the desk, Chen Ping’an then gently placed the white jade ganoderma, whose inscription had an extremely beautiful meaning, on the bookshelf.

Chen Ping’an stepped back with his hands clasped in his sleeves, then stretched out his sleeves again, slightly adjusting the position of the white jade ganoderma.

Like swallows carrying mud, like ants moving house, like abundance year after year.

After his parents left, before he turned fourteen, he barely managed to protect his family’s property. Fortunately, after that, each year was better than the last.

Afterwards, Chen Ping’an took Ning Yao, and then called Xiao Mo and Xian Wei to go down the mountain together. He was going to check the accounts of the thatched grass shop and New Year’s money shop in Riding Dragon Lane.

Little Rice Grain didn’t follow. She had to patrol the mountain.

The little girl ran off happily, singing “Stinky tofu is delicious, the golden melon seeds are so heavy.”

Xian Wei had just accumulated a little confidence on that mountain, but when he saw these two market shops, he felt helpless again.

This was the source of wealth for his own mountain? Wasn’t it the same as him, just earning some hard-earned money every day? Forget it, if it really didn’t work, he could only rely on himself to go back to his old ways. On the way here, he saw that there were a few streets in the town that looked quite luxurious. He’d take a look later to see if he could find some wealth there.

Pei Qian’s first personal disciple, originally named Zhou Junchen, nicknamed A-Man, nicknamed Little Mute.

Standing on a small stool behind the counter, today the child unexpectedly greeted Chen Ping’an as Grand Master for the first time.

Chen Ping’an couldn’t help but feel a little puzzled, and asked with a smile, “A-Man, are you planning to borrow money from me?”

A-Man shook his head, solemnly saying, “I just hope that Grand Master can be discerning and properly manage those who embezzle from within.”
A white-haired boy dashed over from the backyard, fuming, “A’Man, when have I ever skipped out on paying for pastries?! You need evidence to frame someone!”

A’Man chuckled, “You paid for the ones you ate in front of me, sure, but what about all the ones you swiped on the sly? I’ve been counting, you know.”

The white-haired boy’s eyes darted around, “Actually, it was Cui Huasheng from next door who devoured them. I tried to stop her, but she’s too strong!”

Chen Pingan rubbed his temples, a weary sigh escaping him.

The white-haired boy fixed his gaze on the yellow-hatted, green-shoed young man, hands on his hips, chin raised, “Hey you, what’s your cultivation realm? Spill it.”

He sensed a distinct air of danger radiating from this individual.

This outer demon, currently going by the name Konghou, was originally called “Natural” in the Sui-Chu Palace.

For reasons known only to himself, or perhaps due to a sudden bout of whimsy, he had developed a desire to take on disciples, clamoring to become a master. After all, becoming a master meant he could aspire to become a grandmaster, just like the Hidden Official Ancestor.

He often spent his time in the backyard, leaping about and gazing towards Fallen Peak, arms outstretched, shouting about joining the mountain, seizing disciples – one wouldn’t be too few, two wouldn’t be too many. One to pour tea, one to fetch water…

Apart from that, he was either trying to swindle money from Cui Huasheng or loitering near the shop entrance, toothpick in mouth, baring his teeth to the world.

So young, yet already burdened with a full head of white hair.

Some of the older residents of the neighborhood had kindly advised Shopkeeper Shi in private to take the poor child to see a doctor, as some expenses were simply unavoidable.

Xiao Mo was equally surprised. Who would have imagined that a demon from beyond, likely at the Ascension Realm, would be residing in the shop?

As for the female ghost wearing the discarded remains of a male Immortal, she was hardly a noteworthy oddity.

Xiao Mo replied with a smile, “Realms are but illusions, after all.”

A girl rushed over from the thatch shop. She respectfully bowed to Chen Pingan, her voice timid, “This servant, Cui Huasheng, greets Mountain Lord.”

Chen Pingan nodded with a smile, though inwardly he felt quite awkward.

This was Tian Wan from the Zheng Yang Mountain, Zou Zi’s junior sister. Intercepted by Cui Dongshan and Jiang Shangzhen, Cui Dongshan extracted a soul and a wisp of spirit, using them as a wick for a lamp, then placed it within a “flower vase,” transforming her into the girl working odd jobs in Riding Dragon Lane, Cui Huasheng. She was now nominally Cui Dongshan’s younger sister.

From Tian Wan, Cui Dongshan had also obtained a nameless grotto-heaven of extremely high quality. While not one of the seventy-two minor grotto-heavens, according to Tian Wan, the natural treasures and great fortune within could sustain an Ascension Realm cultivator’s cultivation.

In other words, a Earth Immortal, as long as their breakthrough went smoothly, could remain within this secluded grotto-heaven indefinitely, requiring no external resources to reach the Ascension Realm.

Within it lay a Crimson Pavilion Immortal Palace, profound and mysterious, a world apart. There was also a stream called the Dan Creek, its waters cold and jade-like, ideal for refining elixirs. Furthermore, Mount Chichi contained an abundance of spiritual herbs, such as Tuckahoe, Ganoderma, and ginseng, as well as numerous spiritual trees and immortal flowers.

It was like a readily accessible natural treasury.

Since this grotto-heaven was brought back by Cui Dongshan, the Lower Sect Master, it was only logical that it should be placed in the Lower Sect of Tongye Continent.

After all, the Upper Sect, Fallen Peak, already possessed Lotus Flower Blessed Land, a top-tier blessed land, already at its limits. Plus, there was the Dragon Locking Well, a connection between grotto-heaven and blessed land, and the Fox Kingdom that Zhu Lian had lured over.

However, the true prize that Cui Dongshan coveted was the renowned Cicada Sloughing Grotto-Heaven.

Unfortunately, Tian Wan was not lying – it wasn’t on her person.

Of course, just because it wasn’t on her didn’t mean she didn’t know its whereabouts.

Judging by Cui Dongshan’s temperament, he certainly wouldn’t give up so easily.

This ancient grotto-heaven was considered one of the most important relics in the ancient Shu region. Legend had it that numerous ancient sword immortals had sloughed off their mortal coils and ascended to immortality there, their immortal hearts transforming, leaving behind their physical shells like cicada sloughs, treasures beyond compare.

Chen Pingan instructed Xiao Mo and Xian Wei to remain at the shop, and they would return to the mountain together later.

He then led Ning Yao up the steps of Riding Dragon Lane, and at the top, Chen Pingan turned back to look.

Afterward, they walked towards Mud Bottle Lane, passing Apricot Blossom Lane along the way.

That was where Zou Zi had set up his stall back then.

A drunken, blind old Daoist priest had returned to Riding Dragon Lane, much to the joy of the neighbors. He drank his fill of wine and refused any red envelopes. What use were distant relatives when you had close neighbors? He didn’t care about being refined; he wasn’t going to take their money.

When Old Immortal Jia heard that Mountain Lord Chen and his lady had just left Riding Dragon Lane, the old Daoist stomped his foot and beat his chest, filled with regret.

After all, he was an old Dragon Gate Realm immortal. Although Jia Sheng was blind, he could circulate his qi and see as clearly as anyone else. Hearing that Xiao Mo was a newly recruited consecrator on the mountain and that Xian Wei, who he saw through instantly as a fake Daoist, would be a guest elder, he immediately dragged them both to his shop for a drink. The white-haired boy followed along to sponge a meal. They drank and ate, course after course, until Xian Wei was a mess of tears and snot, his face flushed, one hand holding a bowl, the other clasped in Old Daoist’s hand, shaking vigorously. Everything was unspoken, conveyed through the wine.

Old Immortal Jia, who had also been through the hardships of the world, truly understood him.

Even if someone tried to drive him away, he would never leave.

As for Chen Lingjun, he was currently teaching the Xiao Mo brothers how to finger-guess, and they were making a racket.

Chen Pingan led Ning Yao toward Mud Bottle Lane.

Once a second Lower Sect was established, Fallen Peak would be elevated to a “Orthodox Sect” of the Vast Expanse, and the Lower Sect would then ascend to the status of Upper Sect.

There were only a handful of “Orthodox Sect” families in the numerous realms.

In the Vast Expanse, there were only two.

Arriving at the familiar alley, Chen Pingan stopped at the entrance to his ancestral home, glancing at the yard next door, belonging to Song Jixin. He wasn’t in a hurry to retrieve the shards of his Natal Porcelain.

Shifting his gaze, Chen Pingan looked at the house next door, which seemed to have been unoccupied as long as he could remember.

Ning Yao also glanced at the residence of the master and servant next door, recalling a pompous, squat woman she had seen back then. If she didn’t stand on tiptoe, only half of her head would be visible above the wall.

Chen Pingan opened the gate and the door to the house. The courtyard and the house were spotless, adorned with spring couplets and Fu characters.

Chen Pingan entered the house, slumped on the table, chin resting on his arm.

Ning Yao asked, “What’s wrong?”
Chen Ping’an smiled gently, “To have such a wife, what more could a husband ask for?”

Ning Yao rested her cheek in her hand.

It had been a long time since she’d been here.

After sitting for a moment, Chen Ping’an stood up.

Ning Yao knew where he was going.

Together, they walked out of the narrow lane and crossed the stone arch bridge over the Dragon Beard River. Chen Ping’an and Ning Yao walked side-by-side along the country road.

They arrived at the gravesite.

Chen Ping’an handed Ning Yao three incense sticks, and he held three himself. Together, they offered incense.

Then, Chen Ping’an knelt down and began to add soil to the grave mound.

Ning Yao crouched beside him, took out a small pouch, and asked softly, “I brought this from the Five Colors Heaven. Is it suitable?”

Chen Ping’an turned and smiled, “Suitable, how could it not be suitable?”

Ning Yao breathed a sigh of relief.

She took the pouch, emptied the soil inside, gently patted it down, and slightly compacted the grave mound.

Chen Ping’an’s eyes reddened, and his voice was hoarse. He could only call out “Father, Mother” a couple of times. The words seemed to catch in his throat, and he could only move his lips slightly, murmuring softly.

It seemed that only at the age of fourteen did the straw sandal boy formally embark on his first long journey.

He began his travels far from home.

But Chen Ping’an had never spoken of this to anyone, not even Ning Yao, nor Liu Xianyang.

In truth, it was this very road beneath his feet, where with the help of the neighbors in the alley, a sallow and thin straw sandal child walked at the very front of the funeral procession.

That road, from Mud Bottle Lane all the way to here, was the longest journey of Chen Ping’an’s life.

Perhaps it was because of this gravesite visit today, with her by his side, the beloved woman he was certain to marry, Ning Yao.

Chen Ping’an took out a pot of wine again, sprinkled it on the grave mound, and gently placed the wine pot on the mud ground beside his feet.

The man crouched on the ground, covered his face with one hand, his shoulders trembled, and soft sobs seeped through his fingers.

It seemed that only at this very moment, the little Ping’an of the past, the Chen Ping’an of today, had truly established a home and career.

Only now did he truly dare to tell his parents at their gravesite that he was doing well.