Within the borders of Huang Ting Kingdom, nestled a small county town named Suian, “Suian” meaning “contentment and peace.” Though under the jurisdiction of Yanzhou Prefecture, a land renowned throughout Huang Ting Kingdom for producing the most scholars and successful imperial examination candidates, this particular county wasn’t situated along any major trade routes. Instead, it was a haven of scholarly families. Even before Chen Ping’an entered the town, one could spot the Wenchang Pagoda, a symbol of literary excellence, standing atop a small hill.

Ancient traditions held that places with thriving literary atmospheres often displayed such a pagoda before any actual town.

Qingtong spread his divine sense, carefully surveying the county. However, he couldn’t quite discern anything special.

It was said that “water need not be deep, if there is a dragon, it is spiritual.” Yet, with Qingtong’s cultivation and discerning eye, he should have detected some hint of the extraordinary. However, the rivers and streams surrounding the county seemed devoid of even a river spirit. The spiritual energy within the county was incredibly thin, almost nonexistent. Martial prowess was equally dismal, virtually negligible. Literary fortune, on the other hand, showed faint traces, primarily the lingering blessings of ancestors, inherited from imperial archways and ancestral halls adorned with plaques declaring “Successful Imperial Examination Candidate.” Even the humble homes in poor alleyways exhibited such traces. Qingtong grew increasingly perplexed. Could he be mistaken? Was a reclusive, transcendent cultivator or a virtuous sage concealing themselves here, deliberately obscuring the heavenly secrets?

Qingtong couldn’t resist asking, “Who are we looking for on this trip?”

Chen Ping’an smiled and replied, “We’re not looking for anyone in particular. Just taking a look around. Once the affairs of the lower sects in Tongye Continent are settled, I’ll return to the Fallen Mountain and eventually come to reside here for a while… well, not exactly reside. More like checking in at the office. I’ll be opening a school in a local private academy to teach elementary education.”

Previously, during his travels, Chen Ping’an had temporarily borrowed Lu Chen’s Daoist abilities, assuming the guise of a fourteenth realm cultivator. It was then that he had taken a liking to this place. Huang Ting Kingdom bordered the former territory of Great Li, not too far from Fallen Mountain. He intended to become a teacher here in the future.

Qingtong, thinking he had misheard, exclaimed, “Private academy elementary education?! Open a school and teach, becoming a village teacher?”

If Chen Ping’an, currently without any literary temple accolades, was about to preside over one of the seventy-two Confucian academies, even without the title of vice-principal, Qingtong wouldn’t be as shocked.

Chen Ping’an nodded. “With my limited knowledge, just half a bucket of ink sloshing around, of course, I can only teach young children elementary education.”

Qingtong didn’t believe Chen Ping’an’s words for a moment. He immediately perked up, realizing that his earlier divine sense scan must have been careless, missing some key clues. In an instant, the entire Suian County was enveloped within a tiny, microscopic part of Qingtong’s divine mind. Government offices, ancestral temples, residential mansions, streets, shops of all kinds, even the bottoms of ancient wells were thoroughly searched. Yet, he still found nothing. After a few blinks of an eye, Qingtong, still unwilling to give up, examined the mountains and rivers outside the county, carefully scrutinizing their origins and flows. Finally, he retracted his divine sense and tentatively asked, “Did you take a liking to some promising Daoist prodigy?”

Chen Ping’an joked, “If you followed my Senior Brother Cui, you’d definitely thrive.”

Qingtong understood the implication: he was being told that he was only interested in something if there was a benefit to be gained.

Chen Ping’an folded his hands in his sleeves and led Qingtong into the county, both of them appearing to be nonexistent to the common folk.

The streets were bustling. Since it was New Year’s Eve, even though the shops on both sides were closed, the atmosphere was still lively and festive.

Chen Ping’an said, “I passed by here earlier and browsed a few local county chronicles in the county office. They haven’t produced a successful imperial examination candidate in over a hundred years. It’s like a barren year with poor harvests.”

Qingtong then remembered that in the twelve landscape illusion paintings, this young hidden official from the lineage of the Literary Sage was clearly well-versed in the ways of the imperial examination system.

Could it be that he truly intended to become an anonymous village teacher here, spending his days mingling with children wearing open-crotch pants and runny noses?

The master of two sects, the close disciple of the Literary Sage, then spending years, even decades, just to cultivate a so-called successful imperial examination candidate?

Chen Ping’an said to himself, “I’ve already thought of a pseudonym, Dou Yi.”

Qingtong asked, “Is that the ‘Yi’ from the Yiji chapter, ‘assist the people to harvest, all nations will be at peace’?”

Chen Ping’an seemed slightly surprised and exclaimed, “I didn’t expect Daoist friend Qingtong to be so knowledgeable.”

Qingtong’s lips twitched. “Hidden Official, you flatter me.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Whether it’s flattery or not, I’m certainly praising you.”

Qingtong, recalling the young Hidden Official’s phrase “Both are important” by the Seven Li Creek, comforted himself: better than some, not as good as others.

Qingtong smiled and asked, “If Hidden Official were to devote himself to the imperial examination, could he achieve the ‘three firsts’?”

Chen Ping’an thought for a moment and said, “Achieve the ‘three firsts’? Don’t even think about it. If I were in Great Li Dynasty, let alone the top three, I might even struggle to pass the second-class imperial examination. But if it’s in this Huang Ting Kingdom, helping Suian County bring back a ‘Successful Imperial Examination Candidate’ plaque, there’s a good chance. Not because I’m particularly talented, but because in smaller countries, there are more tricks to the system. There are shortcuts to take. The calligraphy on the exam papers, the Court Style, has subtle nuances. It can be arranged according to the academic lineage of the examiner and the official in charge. In any case, you can cater to their preferences.”

Qingtong said, “I heard that among your direct disciples, there’s a bookworm named Cao Qinglang, who was the second-place winner in Great Li Dynasty?”

If you had been this talkative earlier, I would have invited Senior Qingtong for a drink long ago.

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “To add, Cao Qinglang, in addition to being the second-place winner in the palace examination, was also the first-place winner in the earlier capital spring examination. So, Emperor Song He’s vision is truly average.”

If Cao Qinglang had been chosen as the top scholar, when we met at the wedding in the capital last time, even if I didn’t agree to that matter, I would have stood up to greet him.

Isn’t the subsequent conversation between Chen Ping’an and the master at Chunshan Academy about this matter similar? One is on behalf of his student, the other on behalf of his student’s student, both feeling indignant.

Leading Qingtong through the streets with practiced ease, Chen Ping’an asked a seemingly unrelated question, “Earlier in the wine shop, you seemed to be chatting quite happily with Yang Zhi about Xiao Mo? Was there some… backstory?”

Qingtong shook his head and said, “No! Absolutely not!”

It was a blatant case of protesting too much.

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “Tell me about it, I promise not to inform Xiao Mo.”
Regarding the deeds of Xiaomo, not to mention the lack of records in the vast world, even in the wild lands, there weren’t any widespread rumors circulating on the mountains. Otherwise, the Summer Retreat Palace would surely have documented them. Moreover, Xiaomo rarely talks about his own affairs.

Qingtong continued to shake his head vigorously, but suddenly smiled, quickly raising his fist to cover his mouth and coughing.

This was a blatant and clumsy attempt to conceal something.

Chen Ping’an glanced sideways and said, “I’ll ask Xiaomo myself later.”

Fearing that Chen Ping’an would embellish the story with his own additions when talking to Xiaomo, Qingtong had no choice but to say, “Yang Zhi mentioned a minor incident, saying that Xiaomo was once entangled by a female cultivator in his early years.”

Chen Ping’an’s eyes immediately lit up, and he inquired, “How was she entangling him? What was her name?”

Qingtong forced a smile and said, “She used the alias Bai Jing, and as for her Daoist title, she had quite a few, like a woman changing clothes. Several of the more famous ones were ‘Morning Haze,’ ‘Outer Scenery,’ and ‘Radiant Spirit.'”

“Anyway, I’ve never met her, I’ve only heard some rumors. Her swordsmanship is extremely high, her killing power is immense, and her temper is terrible. Bai Jing, like Xiaomo, is a sword cultivator. She is also the owner of that ‘Latitude Armor’, and her age of cultivation is similar to Xiaomo’s, but she reached the Ascended Realm earlier. She once opened a dojo in that Great Sun of the Wild Lands, but she couldn’t stay there for long. Every few centuries, she needs to rebuild her residence, so half of the demon clans in the Wild Lands who worship the sun and moon can’t avoid her and need to pay tribute to this sword cultivator.”

Listening to the female sword cultivator’s alias and those Daoist titles, Chen Ping’an curiously asked, “Could Bai Jing be the incarnation of a Fire Spirit?”

Strange and wondrous, each with their own origins.

Just the Daoist title “Outer Scenery” alone was truly remarkable.

Qingtong shook his head and said, “There has always been such speculation from the outside world, but it shouldn’t be the case. Because earlier in the wine shop, Yang Zhi and I asked about it, and Yang Zhi said that Bai Jing’s great Dao foundation and true form were not of the ‘divine anomaly’ type, but rather she was a demon clan member who opened her intelligence, refined her form, and climbed to the top step by step. Yang Zhi also said that Consort Fei might be a disciple of Bai Jing.”

Chen Ping’an became even more puzzled, “Then why did she entangle Xiaomo? Was it a great Dao dispute? Or a feud between sword cultivators?”

Qingtong chuckled and said, “It seems that Bai Jing took a fancy to Xiaomo and wanted to become Daoist partners with him, but Xiaomo refused. During that time, they dueled three times. He couldn’t beat her, so he had to flee all the way, and that’s how he escaped to the Fallen Treasure Beach to hide and brew wine with that Lord of Azure Sky Cave.”

In fact, what Yang Zhi said was even more direct, a single sentence that made Qingtong feel as if all the pent-up frustration in his chest had vanished, which is why he had been in such a good mood ever since traveling with Chen Ping’an.

And the sentence Yang Zhi said at the time was, “Bai Jing almost slept with Xiaomo.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Yang Zhi is a blabbermouth, and you’re following suit?”

Qingtong was speechless. Would I have said all this if you hadn’t asked?

Chen Ping’an rubbed his chin and clicked his tongue. “I didn’t expect our Xiaomo to have so many stories too.”

Within the borders of the Huangting Kingdom, the Cold Food River, the Imperial River, the White Stork River, and the Iron Certificate River, which is the upper reaches of the White Stork River, are all among the top-ranked righteous River Gods.

As one of the vassal states of the Great Li Dynasty, being able to possess so much water transportation was indeed a blessing from their ancestors, after all, they inherited a portion of the former Divine Water Kingdom’s orthodox “ancestral legacy.”

The founding ancestor of the Ziyang Manor, the female cultivator Wu Yi, returned from a long journey, riding a private ferry in the shape of a colorful pavilion boat, and arrived at her own territory. Passing by the Iron Certificate River, Wu Yi gracefully disembarked and with a wave of her sleeve, first transformed the dozen or so maids and servants on the ferry into a stack of talisman paper figures, and then silently performed a hand seal, turning the three-story colorful boat with carved railings and painted beams into a small olive pit-carved boat, which she put into her sleeve along with the stack of talismans.

The Iron Certificate River God Shrine is called the Gathering Fragrance Temple. The colored clay statue enshrined in the temple is in the likeness of a refined old scholar. Sensing the dense Daoist aura of the founding ancestor of the Ziyang Manor, the statue suddenly flashed with golden light and was shrouded in mist. A tall, thin old man walked out, who was none other than the River God of this place. He instantly floated more than a hundred miles out of the shrine and saw the aloof woman with clear eyes and cold countenance on the opposite bank. The old man immediately bowed to the ground, performed a deep bow, and shouted at the top of his lungs, “The little god of the Iron Certificate River, Gao Niang, respectfully welcomes the arrival of the Empress of Cave Spirit!”

Whether the sincerity is enough depends on how loud the voice is.

Although he was a River God officially appointed by the Huangting Kingdom’s court, he was in fact a vassal of the Ziyang Manor. A River God Shrine was somewhat like a “family temple.”

Wu Yi, as the eldest daughter of the old dragon Cheng Longzhou, with the Daoist title of Cave Spirit, and also the founding ancestor of the Ziyang Manor, because she was a female cultivator and proficient in Daoist arts, she was also respectfully called the Empress of Cave Spirit.

Of course, it was a kind of presumption. The title of Empress was not something that just any female cultivator could wear on her head. However, in this vast world, as long as it wasn’t a Daoist nun or a mountain and water deity, the Confucian Temple didn’t care too much. This was similar to the illicit shrines that were forbidden but never eradicated in various countries. But in the meticulously regulated Azure Underworld, only female Daoist nuns above the fifth realm were allowed to be bestowed the title of Empress, a iron rule established by the Grand Master.

In the past, Wu Yi had always been quite proud of this respectful title of “Empress of Cave Spirit,” always feeling that there was nothing impolite about it. At most, outsiders were just calling her that a few hundred years early, and eventually, she would rightfully obtain the title of Empress.

However, today Wu Yi frowned repeatedly and scolded, “What Empress? Do you know the rules?”

The Iron Certificate River God immediately changed his words and said, “This little god greets the Old Ancestor of Cave Spirit!”

The reason why Wu Yi changed her attitude was of course because she had received a decree from her father. Cheng Longzhou wanted her to be more proper in her hometown and stop putting on useless airs. Otherwise, if he ever found out that she had received a bad evaluation from the North Mountain Mountain Lord Wei and the Great Li Ministry of Rites’ assessment of mountains and rivers, he would make her shut herself up in the Dafu Academy and study for a hundred years, so that outsiders wouldn’t say that Cheng Longzhou was failing to educate his children.

Not long ago, Wu Yi had just taken an old dragon city’s Fu family ferry, crossed the sea, and made a trip to the Tongye Continent to pay her respects to her father, which was also to congratulate her father on his promotion. Wu Yi certainly didn’t dare to go empty-handed, and she emptied half of the Ziyang Manor’s secret vault as a congratulatory gift. Her younger brother, because he was the Water God of the Cold Food River, couldn’t leave his jurisdiction without authorization, let alone travel across continents, so he had to ask his sister Wu Yi to help bring the gifts.

Her father, Cheng Longzhou, had been promoted from the Deputy Mountain Master of the Linlu Academy in Piyun Mountain to the Mountain Master of the Dafu Academy in Tongye Continent, one of the seventy-two Confucian Academies.
For the pair of siblings, the only real benefit was that they no longer had to worry about being consumed by their father for sustenance one day.

Then, as the year drew to a close, Wu Yi returned to Treasure Bottle Continent, paying a visit to the new site of Old Dragon City. He helped the Emperor of the Yellow Court Kingdom broker deals with several powerful local clans, negotiating a few lucrative trades. Afterward, he journeyed east to the Cloud Forest Jiang Clan near the Great Gully’s estuary, and finally, he paid his respects to the “longtime acquaintance,” the Marquis of Torrential Rains. This old Qiantang Flood Dragon, now promoted to Marquis of the Great Gully, still had his manor established in the Seven Li Shoal’s blessed cavern. By seniority, he could barely be considered Wu Yi’s elder, but in truth, they were equals. After all, Wu Yi’s cultivation age was actually greater than the latter’s, but the water dragon had good fortune, surpassing Wu Yi in cultivation. While Wu Yi was still struggling to attain the Nascent Soul stage, this Qiantang Flood Dragon was already a venerable Nascent Soul realm cultivator.

Wu Yi lazily asked, “Is Xiao Luan already waiting at the manor?”

The old River God replied in a deep voice, “Reporting to the Ancestral Cave Spirit, that shrew has been waiting at the manor for three days, awaiting your esteemed return. Our Lady White Stork River Water Goddess has a reputation for only visiting when there is something to gain. I wonder what she is plotting this time, blocking our gates like this.”

He and Xiao Luan were not on good terms, so he would seize every opportunity to undermine her to Wu Yi and the Violet Sun Manor.

The White Stork River Shrine and Water Palace were only three hundred miles of waterways away from the Violet Sun Manor. However, before Wu Yi’s “seclusion,” for hundreds of years, there was no connection or friendly relations between the White Stork River Water Palace and the Violet Sun Manor.

Earlier, Wu Yi had sent a flying sword letter to the Violet Sun Manor, requesting a grand feast be prepared at her estate.

Manor Lord Huang Chu naturally dared not neglect this, and had long ordered the manor’s cultivators to procure various delicacies from land and sea. The Jade Delicacy Pavilion, now seen at Immortal Ferry Crossings everywhere, had sent five or six food boxes to the Violet Sun Manor just yesterday and today. It was said that one dish contained golden-shelled crabs, a specialty of Book Scroll Lake, and the rarest “Bamboo Branch” variety. It was rumored that even local rogue cultivators of Book Scroll Lake could only eat “Bamboo Branch” golden-shelled crab twice in their lifetime, as it was considered extremely fortunate to even taste it once. They said someone was specially dispatched from the Jade Delicacy Pavilion of Poolside City to deliver it to the Violet Sun Manor.

Wu Yi glanced at the habitually clever old River God. “Gao Niang, you are included in today’s feast at the manor. Don’t be late.”

Without giving him a chance to flatter her, Wu Yi formed a Daoist hand seal and performed a water technique. Her figure transformed into a streak of emerald flowing silk, as if lightning was coiling around her. In an instant, clouds and mist surged in the air, as if a dragon was rending the sky and flying away, causing the entire Violet Sun Manor in the distance to sway slightly. Then, in a grand hall, Wu Yi reformed into her tall, elegant human form and yawned.

Wu Yi stood within the Sword Reprimand Hall.

Typically, a registered cultivator returning to their sect would first visit the Ancestral Hall to offer incense and pay respects to their ancestors.

However, Wu Yi was the very founder of the Violet Sun Manor, so she couldn’t exactly worship herself, could she? As for the previous Manor Lords, who were merely puppets, many had become her food, swallowed into her belly. The human heart is never satisfied, like a snake trying to swallow an elephant; they truly did not cherish their lives. Some, having learned a bit of bedroom arts, wanted to cultivate with her; others, taking advantage of her seclusion, tried to seize power; and still others colluded with outsiders, attempting to betray their master and destroy their sect.

The Ancestral Cave Spirit’s return home caused quite a commotion. Even in areas quite far from the main hall, the registered cultivators, maids, and servants of the manor stopped what they were doing and knelt on the ground, calling out to the Ancestral Spirit.

Regardless of whether the founding ancestor could see or hear them, it was all a matter of sincerity.

Wu Yi turned her head to look at the entrance of the hall, waiting for Huang Chu and the others to come and welcome her arrival.

They say a golden kennel is not as good as one’s own straw hut, and there is some truth to that.

In the past, on Treasure Bottle Continent, even a Land Immortal, let alone a Dragon Gate Realm cultivator, could roam freely and swagger around. But now, it’s no longer possible. Even a Nascent Soul Realm cultivator must act with caution and keep their tail between their legs.

Beside the Iron Edict River, Gao Niang did not withdraw his gaze for a long time. The river at his feet was agitated by the energy of Wu Yi’s escape technique, the water surface rising and falling, stirring up waves. The old River God did not dare to calm the water, but stood in place, sighing with emotion. The Ancestral Cave Spirit’s water technique was truly profound and divine, even more skillfully displayed than his own, a proper River God. Gao Niang couldn’t help but sigh, gently shake his head, and murmur, “Everyone has their fate. There’s no use in envy.”

However, Gao Niang also felt a bit of pain. The Violet Sun Manor’s feast was not eaten for free. It would be impolite to arrive empty-handed.

It was not any easier than attending the Mountain Lord Wei’s nightly banquet.

Suddenly, a slightly smiling voice rang in his ear. “Indeed, it is enviable.”

Gao Niang turned his head abruptly and saw a stranger in a blue robe. He looked somewhat familiar, but upon closer inspection, he immediately recognized the other’s identity.

The other’s identities were so numerous that just mentioning one would be enough to give him endless trouble. The old River God felt that he could not muster even one-tenth of his strength.

Chen Pingan smiled and said, “River God Gao, there’s no need to be so nervous.”

Gao Niang carefully asked, “Mountain Master Chen, is your visit to catch up with the Ancestral Cave Spirit?”

Chen Pingan nodded. “I want to discuss something with Wu Yi.”

Gao Niang immediately said, “This humble deity is willing to lead the way for Mountain Master Chen!”

This Iron Edict River God, known throughout the land for his motto of “better a dead friend than a poor Daoist, and I’ll help you pick up the loot,” had a lesser rank on the golden jade register than a proper river god like the White Stork River Goddess, and the height of his shrine’s statue was three-tenths shorter. However, when it came to the toughness of his golden body, he was in no way inferior to Xiao Luan. This was the benefit of having backing. Cultivating in the service of a secular dynasty was all about having someone influential at court. If a mountain and water spirit had someone at the mountain, they would achieve twice the result with half the effort. This Iron Edict River, because of its relationship with the Violet Sun Manor, had divine money in its river temple treasury. With money, one could win over mountain immortals and dignitaries to help spread fame. With a good reputation, there would be pilgrims and incense. As long as the incense was flourishing, there would be more sincere men and women coming to burn incense, making their wishes come true more often.

Chen Pingan smiled and said, “There’s no rush to go to the Violet Sun Manor. I trouble River God Gao to show me around the Iron Edict River.”

“A happy event has graced my humble dwelling, an honor beyond words.”

Gao Niang didn’t dare to speak in a loud voice, trembling, and said, “This humble deity only fears that the scenery of the Iron Edict River is ordinary and will not catch Mountain Master Chen’s eye.”
Chen Ping’an shook his head and smiled, “Last time I was traveling in a hurry, I only took a cursory glance at the scenery of the Tiequan River. This time, I have to make up for it no matter what.”

Afterward, they casually chatted about the exceptionally sumptuous meal at Ziyang Prefecture, and Chen Ping’an’s expression became a bit peculiar.

Nowadays, many landscape gazettes contain the phrase “It’s rare to see Zhuzhi Crabs twice in a lifetime.”

He estimated that just this sentence alone would cause the sales of Golden-robed Crabs from Shujian Lake to skyrocket. Not to mention ministers and dukes, even mountain cultivators, as long as they had money and connections, who wouldn’t believe in this nonsense?

After eating it once, they’d want to eat it a second time. Once they’d eaten it a third or fourth time, they might find the taste wasn’t so great after all, but those who could eat Zhuzhi Crabs multiple times, when their associates encountered problems and didn’t know what gifts to give, or during the golden autumn season, when they were trying to curry favor with each other, gifting this item, which wasn’t vulgar money or material, would always be correct.

It looked like their Mr. Dong Shui Jing’s business acumen.

What was called innate talent? This was probably it.

Chen Ping’an said with his heart, “Do you think there have been a few too many coincidences on this trip?”

At the Qidu Bixiao Palace, Shao Yunyan and Madame Tuoyan, and the Water Lord of Nantang Lake, just happened to be guests. Otherwise, Chen Ping’an would never have actively gone to Nantang Lake.

Afterward, at the Qililong Fengshui Cave, besides Cao Yong’s connection with the Pure Yang Daoist, they also encountered Chen Zhenrong and Qin Buyi’s group.

And in this Ziyang Prefecture, the White Egret River Goddess Xiao Luan just happened to be at the mansion.

In fact, Qing Tong had been walking nearby, wearing a veiled hat and a turquoise robe, strolling along the water’s edge.

Qing Tong said in a bitter tone, “The painting incident was indeed Zou Zi’s arrangement, but outside of that, I really don’t know anything. Could a series of coincidences also be Zou Zi’s doing?”

Chen Ping’an remained noncommittal.

Qing Tong, traveling with this person all the way, seeing and hearing firsthand Chen Ping’an interacting with different Water Gods and cultivators, had a growing feeling in his heart. They said that the same rice feeds a hundred different people, but how come with this guy, a hundred families’ meals seemed to have produced just one person? Qing Tong felt uneasy for a time, but for some reason, he found that Chen Ping’an seemed a bit distracted.

The reason why he was certain he wouldn’t go to Nantang Lake was because Chen Ping’an remembered a very… annoying principle.

It was a dog-shit principle that “wasn’t in books and wasn’t in old sayings.”

For some good deeds that one willingly did, the person doing the deed should better not consider the good deed as a good deed, so as to save themselves a lot of trouble.

This was in accordance with the principle in the books that a gentleman bestowed favor without expecting repayment. The key was that it could ensure that no matter what happened in the future, there would be no disappointment. Any repayment from others would be a pleasant surprise.

Chen Ping’an had this thought because his student Cui Dongshan had once said something extremely “heart-wrenching” and very harsh, saying that many good people in the world did good deeds. The good people were real, and the good deeds were real. The only problem was that they might not seek any return on profit, but they inevitably demanded some kind of echo in others’ hearts. Once that happened, in the eyes of some beneficiaries, it might even be less refreshing and relaxing than the former.

Chen Ping’an continued to chat with Gao Niang, asking the River God for several local chronicles of the prefectures and counties around the Tiequan River. Gao Niang naturally agreed readily. Such a small matter was as light as a feather.

Yan Prefecture, where Suian County was located, was actually only separated from the Tiequan River and Ziyang Prefecture by Yun Prefecture.

In that Yun Prefecture, the Dali Dynasty had found an ancient Shu Kingdom Dragon Palace ruins. That stream seemed to have just been named Wu Stream, and the water quality was excellent, like sweet spring.

Like his hometown’s Dragon Beard River, it also had a similarly built stone arch bridge, except that there were no ancient swords hanging under the bridge.

Qing Tong asked, “Now that we’ve arrived at Red Candle Town, aren’t you going back to Fallen Mountain to take a look?”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “This is called feeling timid near one’s hometown.”

In the Jianchitang of Ziyang Prefecture, Wu Yi sat high on the dragon throne. Huang Chu led a large group of ancestral hall members, hurrying in. According to seniority, they were orderly, entering the hall, and standing in their respective positions. They bowed to the old ancestor Dong Ling along with the Prefect Lord Huang Chu.

Wu Yi smiled playfully.

Because she thought of a scene that would happen in the short term of ten years or the long term of twenty years, which she believed would be more magnificent than the current three or two kittens and puppies.

At that time, she would be standing above a brand new national temple, with the only change being that she would change her identity to become the national master, and Wu Yi might wear purple robes and hold green jade, second only to one person but above tens of thousands.

Her father, who had served as a Yellow Court Secretary for many years, had once revealed a secret to Wu Yi: The tall young man Yu Lu, who was a guest at the forest villa, was actually the crown prince of the defunct Lu clan.

Yu Lu’s dragon aura was indeed the most delicious tonic in the world for Wu Yi.

It was just that her father didn’t take action at the time, so Wu Yi naturally didn’t dare to act rashly and snatch food from her father. Was she courting death?

A few years ago, Wu Yi finally broke through the Golden Core bottleneck with a minor side-door technique and entered the Nascent Soul Realm. And her chance to enter the Jade Pu Realm in the future lay in the appearance of that Qidu River. As long as she could successfully walk the water along that great river in the future, she believed that she could become one of the few Upper Five Realm water dragons on the continent.

As for her younger brother, who had been transferred to serve as the Cold Food River God, this path was not for him, and it was too late to regret it.

In any case, compared to before, they, the remnants of the dragon palaces of the Four Seas and many lands, and the descendants of the flood dragons, were much better off. It should be known that in the long years without a true dragon in the world, the existence of the Dragon Slayer was like a heavenly law, hanging over the heads of all the descendants of flood dragons. Therefore, the Nascent Soul Realm was the end of the road. Her father was like this, and so was Qian Tang, the Fengshui Cave Lord. They could only stagnate in this realm and never dare to walk the water.

Moreover, this trip across the continent to congratulate her father also brought a great unexpected surprise. Her father had given her face-to-face instructions, pointing out a path that held promise of entering the Upper Five Realms.
Thus, Wu Yi’s return to the Ziyang Estate was to discuss relocation with Huang Chu. Besides emptying the treasury, Wu Yi would also take half of the estate’s registered cultivators with her to the Tongye Continent, awaiting a certain event. The “discussion” was merely a formality; Wu Yi’s decree was Ziyang Estate’s command. As for the remaining hollow shell of Ziyang Estate, Wu Yi would promise Huang Chu, the founder, that she would no longer concern herself with any affairs, big or small, and would absolutely not interfere. This was akin to completely relinquishing authority to Huang Chu, allowing the titular estate lord to truly grasp power and reign supreme within the Yellow Court Kingdom.

Upon hearing the Ancestor’s decision, Huang Chu and the others exchanged glances, bewildered.

What was the Ancestor up to? They hadn’t even finished the main course, yet she was already dividing the family fortune?

Wu Yi lightly tapped the armrest of her chair, her heel rhythmically striking the floor.

Huang Chu’s heart tightened, and she immediately said, “I shall retrieve the Ancestral Hall Registry at once, allowing the Ancestor to select disciples.”

Soon, Huang Chu returned with a册子 (ce zi), respectfully presenting it to the founding ancestor with both hands.

Wu Yi opened the Ziyang Estate Registry, and upon seeing names she favored, she circled them with a finger.

The hall was so silent you could hear a pin drop, save for the rustling of the Ancestor’s hands turning pages. Huang Chu dared not breathe loudly, feeling slightly relieved. The Ancestor had marked only a few names at the beginning, but the middle pages were filled with choices. This meant that the backbone of Ziyang Estate, the Dragon Gate and Sea-Gazing realm cultivators and retainers, would mostly remain. If the Ancestor truly honored her promise to no longer interfere in estate affairs and depart for Tongye Continent, it would indeed be a monumental boon for Huang Chu, the puppet estate lord.

Wu Yi maintained her indolent posture, head lowered as she perused the book. But with a sudden upward glance, Huang Chu immediately lowered her gaze.

Wu Yi casually tossed the registry back to Huang Chu and flicked her sleeves. “Everyone except Huang Chu, dismiss yourselves. Attend to your duties.”

Huang Chu accepted the registry, tucking it into her sleeve. She held her breath, awaiting the Ancestor’s command.

Wu Yi stood and descended the steps. Huang Chu retreated a few paces, then stepped aside. As the Ancestor brushed past her, she turned and followed.

Wu Yi’s expression was displeased. “Xiao Luan’s uninvited visit, what does she seek?”

Huang Chu replied, forcing a smile, “She is tight-lipped. Despite our two meetings, I could not discern her purpose. She insisted on a private audience with you, Ancestor.”

Wu Yi’s face darkened further. She held the White Egret River Goddess in utter contempt. During Xiao Luan’s initial visit to Ziyang Estate, Wu Yi had already humiliated her. Had Chen Pingan not smoothed things over, Wu Yi would have insisted on forcing the “Canna Lily,” famed for her beauty, to drink until she vomited in the main hall. So what if she was known for her noble elegance and grace? Wu Yi wanted to reveal Xiao Luan’s unsightly side, to make those who regarded her as a divine beauty in a painting question their adoration.

Once, a foreign Nascent Soul elder immortal, passing through the Yellow Court Kingdom, sailed the river, drinking with a friend under the moon. Inspired, he tossed his wine cup into the water, transforming it into a white egret.

Later, the egret had a brief affair with the founding emperor of the Yellow Court Kingdom.

That Nascent Soul cultivator’s “friend” was none other than Wu Yi’s father, the ancient flood dragon Cheng Longzhou, who humbly sought guidance in the Dao from the wandering Daoist.

Thus, in Wu Yi’s eyes, how could this White Egret River Goddess, of dubious origin and lacking lineage, dare to stand on equal footing with her?

Even now, Wu Yi did not know the Daoist’s true identity, not even his name.

She only remembered that the middle-aged foreign Daoist, wearing a yellow robe and straw sandals, carried a sword and a horsetail whisk, exuding the air of an immortal.

Wu Yi had asked her father about him once, but dared not inquire again.

Cheng Longzhou had spoken cryptically, as if speaking without saying anything.

“With limited form, refine boundless fire garden.”

“Cultivate peerless Golden Core guest, a Earth Immortal not disgraced by a Celestial Immortal.”

Clearly, her father held this wandering Daoist in high regard.

If not for this connection, Xiao Luan would never have secured her position as the White Egret River Goddess.

Wu Yi’s voice intensified. “Does the mountain still maintain its closed-door policy?”

Huang Chu nodded. “Visitors remain forbidden, no one allowed to ascend.”

Wu Yi curled her lip, her expression complicated. “Can you believe it?”

Huang Chu wisely remained silent.

In less than thirty years, the desolate mountain had transformed from an unknown hill into a sect of the “Zong” rank.

Some immortal residences, painstakingly establishing themselves, might only have accepted a few disciples in thirty years. Constructing their estate, forming protective arrays, barely establishing a foothold and familiarizing themselves with neighboring immortal residences and local kingdoms, would be cause for celebration.

Thus, Huang Chu dared not believe it.

However, he dared not casually comment on the rise of the desolate mountain.

In truth, Wu Yi and Ziyang Estate had not paid much attention to the desolate mountain in the past, nor had they attempted to cultivate any relationship.

Now, even if Ziyang Estate wished to climb the social ladder, it was far beyond their reach.

Near Piyun Mountain, the once-obscure desolate mountain had become a sensation, leaving the newly-promoted Zheng Yang Mountain as a pathetic foil, a stepping stone.

As the folks at Wind and Snow Temple fairly put it, the Bamboo Emperor Sect Lord’s celebration was actually for the desolate mountain.

Wu Yi had immediately dispatched the current estate lord, Huang Chu, to make a trip to the old Dragon Province, delivering a belated congratulatory gift. Even knowing it would be unwelcome, one does not strike a smiling face.

The young mountain master was away on a journey. The person receiving guests at the desolate mountain was Steward Zhu Lian, a familiar face. He had accompanied Chen Pingan as a guest to Ziyang Estate years ago, and seemed to have had a pleasant conversation with Huang Chu, reminiscing about old times.

The reason Wu Yi had not personally gone to the desolate mountain was laughable. It was both because she could not bring herself to do it, and because… she dared not.

The dark-skinned little girl who had once followed Chen Pingan was actually the later female Grandmaster Zheng Qian! The desolate mountain’s first disciple, Pei Qian.

Wu Yi had contributed to the Battle of the Central Treasure Bottle Continent and had seen Zheng Qian’s punches on the battlefield from afar.
That young woman with the twin buns was often found slaying demons and saving lives, all in a day’s work.

Privately, during lulls in the fighting, many pedigree immortal masters of Treasure Bottle洲 would gather, and after much discussion, they would invariably reach the same conclusion: thank heavens Zheng Qian is one of us.

The auxiliary capital of Great Li even made an exception and passed a resolution allowing Zheng Qian to open her own front line on the battlefield, fighting alone.

Wu Yi simply couldn’t reconcile the image of that valiant and spirited young woman, a grandmaster who wielded the power of thunder with every strike, with the little dark-skinned urchin he remembered from years ago.

Wu Yi recalled that at the banquet that evening, Chen Ping An was indeed accompanied by a small burden, a strange and clever little girl who, with a clumsy excuse, tried to coax a cup of the mansion’s immortal brew from her master, Chen Ping An, but ultimately had to settle for a cup of fruit nectar to quench her thirst.

Years ago, while riding in a carriage to visit a friend in the auxiliary capital, Wu Yi had accidentally encountered the young grandmaster walking on foot. At the time, Wu Yi was utterly bewildered, wondering why the famously stern Zheng Qian would willingly nod and smile at him, her face displaying a genuine sincerity. However, to onlookers, it was actually quite unnerving.

Because after Zheng Qian contributed money more frequently, a humorous saying began to circulate in the Great Li auxiliary capital: “When Zheng Qian smiles, the battlefield suffers.”

Each time she threw herself into battle, it resulted in a cataclysmic event. Everywhere she went, a scene of utter devastation remained.

Zheng Qian only showed a hint of a smile when faced with powerful demon adversaries, or when she was seriously injured, as if she finally found something that piqued her interest.

Huang Chu asked, “When will the Ancestor meet with that Xiao Luan?”

Wu Yi sneered, “Let her cool her heels for a few more hours. I’ll see her before the grand dinner begins, and then dismiss her. Wants to discuss serious matters with me? I’ll give her three sentences.”

This time, Xiao Luan’s visit to the Purple Sun Manor was only accompanied by one follower, Sun Deng, a purely martial man and the chief protector of the White Egret River Water Manor.

The manor staff arranged accommodations, the same secluded courtyard as before. The name of the White Egret River Water Goddess was highly regarded anywhere in the Yellow Court Country. Even within the imperial palace of the Yellow Court Country, Xiao Luan would be a guest of honor for the monarch, but it held no sway within the Purple Sun Manor.

The world offers a thousand ways to bestow grace, but when seeking help, there is only one thing to do: bow one’s head.

Xiao Luan burned incense and brewed tea within the room. The tea set, tea leaves, and the water used for brewing were all brought by Xiao Luan herself. At this moment, she drank tea with Sun Deng, and after putting down her cup, she smiled wryly: “I’ve made the Protector Sun look foolish.”

Just now, the manor was in such a commotion, with shouts of “Old Ancestor Cave Spirit” echoing through the heavens, coupled with the ripples of water spells as Wu Yi’s carriage arrived. Xiao Luan could be sure that she wouldn’t be seeing Wu Yi any time soon.

Sun Deng said calmly, “I laugh at others, others laugh at me. Take it easy.”

Xiao Luan’s beautiful eyes sparkled, and she smiled, “If Protector Sun were a cultivator, the White Egret River Water Manor would be too small.”

Sun Deng shook his head and said, “I have no great prospects even in martial arts, let alone cultivation.”

Ascending the mountain to cultivate the Dao required talent, aptitude, and immortal opportunities, things that Sun Deng believed he simply did not possess.

Xiao Luan added tea for Sun Deng. After a few words of idle chat, the White Egret River Water Goddess could not hide her worried expression.

She got lucky last time, slipping through. What about this time?

Her visit this time was to discuss a matter of great importance with Wu Yi, one that was closely related to her own Great Dao. Because Xiao Luan had just received a secret letter from the Ministry of Rites in the Yellow Court Country, the key water god positions that had been vacant in Great Li for a long time, such as the Iron Talisman River Water Manor, which was currently without a master, and the Qiantang Chief position vacated by Lin Li Bo Cao Yong, would soon be filled according to the rules. The Great Li court had been planning this for a long time. As a water god of a vassal state of Great Li, and with her mountain and river pedigree only at the sixth rank, Xiao Luan dared not expect too much. The most important thing was a widespread rumor that the Jade Nectar River Water Goddess, Ye Qingzhu, seemed to be interested in changing her river territory. She was even willing to be transferred to another place at the same level, even lowering her rank by half, just to leave the Jade Nectar River.

And the Cold Food River, the premier water god in the Yellow Court Country, wanted to fill the vacant Iron Talisman River. Xiao Luan’s White Egret River had a similar water nature to the Cold Food River. Once the Cold Food River water god could be promoted, Xiao Luan hoped to advance along with it, changing her water god golden body and the location of her ancestral temple and water manor, thereby raising the height of her statue by one foot according to the rules.

Of course not.

Xiao Luan would promise Purple Sun Manor that she was willing to go to the capital of the Yellow Court Country and meet with His Majesty the Emperor, strongly recommending the Iron Certificate River water god to also be promoted by one rank, serving as the White Egret River Chief Water God. After all, this move was not forbidden.

The officialdom was like that: one official’s change in position, whether promotion or demotion, often “benefited” a group of officials below.

And the mountain and river officialdom was especially obvious. Miss this village and you miss the inn. Often, one missed opportunity would lead to hundreds of years of staring blankly, or even hundreds of years of fruitless anxiety.

Xiao Luan wanted to come here to sound things out and try her luck, because she suffered a silent loss last time. If it hadn’t been for someone’s righteous words, it was questionable whether she would have been able to leave Purple Sun Manor. In fact, Xiao Luan had been trying to mend fences with Purple Sun Manor in recent years, but had never been able to see Wu Yi again.

But to ask Xiao Luan to learn from the Imperial River Water God, spending incense offerings to seek a mountain pass warrant from the court, running off to ingratiate herself with some power somewhere, Xiao Luan really couldn’t bring herself to do such a shameless thing. Moreover, she was even more afraid of backfiring. Even if she were to get a cold reception at that Fallen Phoenix Mountain, that would be nothing, she was just afraid of angering that young mountain lord who seemed… full of righteousness.

In recent years, Madam Xiao Luan had treated the chief retainer of her water manor, Sun Deng, with great respect, because this purely martial man who had joined the White Egret River halfway was the number one benefactor of her river god temple.

Moreover, Sun Deng had previously served in the military of the Yellow Court Country, personally leading troops into battle. In recent years, he had indeed managed to govern a previously lax water manor in an orderly and efficient manner.

Since ancient times, how many talented scholars, beautiful women, heroes, and heroines have been scattered like clouds, melted like snow, flowers withered, moons waned, and people dispersed, leaving only empty wine cups?

Xiao Luan didn’t want to appear too disheartened in front of Sun Deng, so she cheered herself up and chatted with Sun Deng about the recent strange people and interesting events that had occurred in the Sui Dynasty.
After a brief stroll with Gao Niang by the Iron Decree River, Chen Ping’an took his leave. Together with Qing Tong, they silently and imperceptibly entered the Violet Sun Manor, arriving directly outside the Sword Rebuke Hall, where they stood for a moment.

Soon after, Wu Yi and the Manor Lord Huang Chu stepped out from the hall’s threshold. Unbeknownst to them, two outsiders were standing just a stone’s throw away.

Chen Ping’an stood outside the gate with his hands tucked into his sleeves, gazing at the Ancestral Hall plaque hanging high above. It was clearly the work of Cheng Longzhou, the Headmaster of the Great Hidden Academy.

Earlier, in that city of Sui’an County, Chen Ping’an had brought Qing Tong to a simple, closed schoolhouse.

At that time, Chen Ping’an stood outside a row of low wooden fences, lost in thought.

*His life’s work resides in his heart, his mind the whetstone of his sword.*

Tonight is the eve of the Lunar New Year, a night for family reunions. Tomorrow marks the Beginning of Spring, a farewell to the old and a welcome to the new.

Each year, after the second day of the second lunar month, when the dragon raises its head, comes the Shangsi Festival on the third day of the third month, followed by the Qingming Festival, usually falling between mid-spring and late spring. During this time, venturing out is known as spring outing.

And then, there is the fifth day of the fifth month.

Unknowingly, he approaches forty, having spent half his life on spring excursions.

Please: m.shuquge