Chen Pingan deliberately chose the day of the Beginning of Winter to disembark at the lower sect. Cui Dongshan had hastily erected several thatched huts at the mountain gate and moved out a few tables. With the upper and lower sects combined, there were quite a few people, nearly thirty. Cui Dongshan acted like both a shopkeeper and a waiter, busying himself in the kitchen with Shi Qiu. On this Beginning of Winter, there was a bowl of dumplings and a bowl of nourishing winter soup, also known as Earth Root Soup, brewed from various roots and herbs. It was merely for good fortune, using locally sourced ingredients, not any immortal delicacies. Each table also had a plate of soy sauce and vinegar condiments and a large plate of pickled cabbage from the Frost’s Descent season.

As for wine, apologies, you’ll have to conjure it yourselves. Our lower sect is currently as poor as a church mouse.

At the head table, five people were seated.

Chen Pingan, the Mountain Lord of the dilapidated Falling Phoenix Mountain from the upper sect.

Chang Ming, the Law Enforcement Elder of Falling Phoenix Mountain, with the Daoist title Spirit Spring.

And the three temporarily highest-ranking officials of the lower sect: Cui Dongshan, the first sect master; Zhong Qiu, the treasurer; and Cui Wei, the Law Enforcement Elder of the lower sect.

Cui Wei originally didn’t want to sit at the head table, wanting to give his seat to Mi Yu, who was about to become the Chief Honored Guest of the lower sect, but the Mountain Lord held onto his arm and wouldn’t let go, so Cui Wei had no choice but to accept his fate.

Yu Xiehui, sitting at another table, glanced at Cui Wei, and the child curled his lip. “Oh, he can even drink with Lord Hidden Official at the same table.”

That wasn’t a rare sight back in the Sword Qi Great Wall, but in the vast world of Haoran, it wasn’t common at all.

However, Yu Xiehui seemed to be in a better mood, picking up a dumpling with his chopsticks and then drinking a large mouthful of nourishing winter soup.

Cui Wei keenly noticed this slight change in his direct disciple, looked at the young Hidden Official, and smiled slightly. Chen Pingan nodded in acknowledgment; it was a small matter.

Which child in the world wouldn’t want their father or teacher to be a towering figure, someone with prestige when out and about?

Chen Pingan’s group of direct disciples sat at one table, actually just Cao Qinglang’s addition to the previous ferry passengers.

Cui Dongshan was the last to take his seat, cupping his fist in a salute and saying, “Inheriting the rightful lineage, with all affairs just beginning, people are few, and resources are lacking, working day and night…”

Chen Lingjun quietly asked, “Second Seat Mi, what does that mean?”

Mi Yu retorted, “Ask me? What do *you* think it means?”

The two lively fellows stared at each other.

Old Immortal Jia stroked his beard and smiled. “Sect Master Cui’s general meaning is that this lower sect is the legitimate heir to the Falling Phoenix Mountain, inheriting its traditions. Now, during the initial construction phase, manpower is scarce, and materials are inadequate. Therefore, in serving guests, we are doing our best with limited means, and there may be some carelessness. We hope everyone will forgive us. Of course, that is just Sect Master Cui being overly modest. Just take the pickled winter cabbage on the table; the imperial cooks in the palace couldn’t do any better.”

Mi Yu asked curiously, “Brother Jia, have you been in the palace before?”

Chen Lingjun grinned; Great Immortal Mi asked a good question.

Jia Sheng laughed. “A hero doesn’t dwell on past glories. It’s better not to mention it. Besides, my past is something that would only be a laughing stock.”

Chen Lingjun chuckled. “Brother Jia, when he was young, was a cultured man with imperial examination success. He was a *Jinshi* scholar who attended the Qionglin Banquet and even published a collection of poems. Later, he abandoned the pen for the sword, joining the border army and spending many years on the battlefield, making significant contributions. According to Chief Zhou, he could even be given a flattering posthumous title. However, Brother Jia, when the world calmed down, met the emperor, and then wanted nothing, concealing his merits and fame, wandering the land. Later, he took Deng Gao and Jiu’er as his two talented disciples and became a trusted honored guest of Falling Phoenix Mountain after a meeting with our master.”

Jia Sheng chuckled. “Exposing my old secrets; I’ve made a fool of myself in front of Second Seat Mi.”

Chen Pingan turned his head and asked with a smile, “Honored Guest Jia, you have such unusual past deeds? Why haven’t I heard you mention them before?”

Old Immortal Jia quickly held his bowl in both hands, using soup instead of wine. “How could I have the face to brag about my accomplishments in front of the Mountain Lord? One shouldn’t wash their dirty linen in public.”

From this, one could see that his own Mountain Lord was a man who didn’t doubt those he trusted and didn’t use those he doubted.

What a “not ordinary”! The Mountain Lord’s comment was skillful and seasoned, the three words were better than countless flowery phrases.

Chen Pingan turned his head and looked at the mountain path, vaguely visible in the form of a sacred path for burning incense and paying respects. He asked, “Was the predecessor of this mountain under our feet the ruins of a Five Peaks of a certain kingdom?”

Cui Dongshan nodded and smiled. “Sir, you have keen eyes. Indeed, it was this student who spent a great deal of effort to move this mountain all the way here. It was very heavy. The mountain peak is the old Southern Peak of the former Northern Jin Kingdom. The mountain god’s shrine and the golden statue of the deity are no longer there. They were destroyed by the demon race in that war, and the wastelands thoroughly plundered the land. Not a single valuable natural treasure was left in the mountain, so now there is only an empty shell. If I want to restore it to its former mountain glory, I have no choice but to throw money and more money at it.”

“This is also the reason why the new emperor of Northern Jin was so generous. At that time, I happened to pass by this mountain and found it pleasing to the eye. Later, I asked the Yao family of Daquan to help me connect. Minister Li Xiling of the Ministry of Rites, the uncle of the current emperor, personally accompanied me to the capital of Northern Jin, costing me fifty Grain Rain Coins. The new emperor was generous and hinted at whether I would be willing to take all five of the old peaks for two hundred Grain Rain Coins. I was almost tempted.”

Similar to the Dragon Boat Ink Spill that Falling Phoenix Mountain had back then, it was actually better to buy a new ferry than to spend a lot of effort and immortal money to repair it. For the newly established court of Northern Jin, which was in need of everything, restoring the old appearance of a mountain with broken roots and exhausted water veins was an endless pit that consumed countless money. Therefore, it was not an ordinary burden. Changing or not changing the mountain was ultimately a fixed rule, so it was better to consecrate a new mountain, which could be regarded as a new atmosphere for the new dynasty. The location of the new mountain of the Northern Jin Kingdom had not only been reported to the Dafu Academy, but also had obtained the permission of the Confucian Temple in the Central Earth.

This meant that the Confucian Temple had set a precedent for all countries in Tongye Continent, and since there was a precedent, other countries could follow suit.
“The territory of our lower sect is just this small; how could it possibly accommodate a nation’s Five Sacred Mountains? It would appear bloated and excessively crowded. As an additional condition to purchasing the old mountains, since the price was indeed low, I also had to agree to the new monarch’s request that our lower sect would prioritize accepting Daoist prodigies from the Northern Jin Kingdom within the next century. That emperor, despite his young age, possesses remarkable ambition and is quite astute in business matters. He’s either a natural-born merchant or has received invaluable advice from an expert. In any case, we haggled over prices, and I only agreed to an extra condition of ‘allocating at least three to five direct disciple slots in the Ancestral Hall to the Northern Jin Kingdom within five hundred years.’ In exchange, we would be responsible for the renovation of the old state capital and the construction of the new state capital within the Northern Jin territory. The price is fair, everyone gets what they need, and everyone’s happy. Furthermore, they granted us a century’s worth of mining rights for all silver mines within the Northern Jin territory. We provide the labor, and the Northern Jin court simply sits back and collects the money, splitting it nine to one…”

Hearing this, Chen Ping’an finally interjected, “Such a distribution seems excessive, doesn’t it?”

If the lower sect received ninety percent of the profits, then of course they were being excessive. If the lower sect only received ten percent, then Northern Jin was being excessive.

Cui Dongshan smiled, “Your student also wanted to negotiate an eighty-twenty split, but the new monarch is very shrewd and had already made preparations. The Ministry of Revenue of Northern Jin had carefully estimated the approximate reserves of those six silver mine veins, both overt and covert. Even if we only occupy ten percent of the revenue, it would still be an astronomical sum. Teacher, I can guarantee that our lower sect will become the leading silver bank in Tongye Continent within twenty years.”

Don’t underestimate the silver bank business on this mountain. Since ancient times, humans have lived by rivers and streams. What could be more attractive than a river of flowing gold and silver?

Of course, Cui Dongshan knew that his teacher understood his intentions and plans.

Nalan Yudie was most easily interested in words like “silver” and “money sharing”. She quickly swallowed a dumpling and cheered loudly, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Cui Dongshan turned around and bowed to the little money-grubber with a smile.

Now, the little girl’s master is the Law Enforcer of Luopo Mountain, the fellow Daoist Lingchun!

Chen Ping’an took a sip of the replenishing winter soup. After Cui Dongshan sat down, he continued, “I also have my eye on two mountains within the former Southern Qi territory, one being the old Central Sacred Mountain and the other being a reserve mountain for the old Western Sacred Mountain. They’re both quite decent, but the situation there is chaotic now, unlike the lingering connections in Northern Jin. The dynasty has been severed, and the new emperor is from an in-law clan, lacking legitimate authority and resented by a large group of former court officials. There are undercurrents in the court and the countryside, and it will take three to five years before things stabilize. Even if I wanted to take advantage of the situation, I would have to worry about getting covered in mud and ending up pleasing no one. So, after thinking it over, I feel it’s unnecessary. We’ll wait until the situation there stabilizes. Any alliance signed now could become a worthless piece of paper the next day.”

Of the two countries bordering the Daquan Dynasty, Northern Jin at least continued the lineage of the previous dynasty. The former capital of Southern Qi, however, had become a garrison for a barbarian army in a wilderness region in its early years. The mountain and river spirits, city gods, and land deities within the country had all been occupied by demons, and countless statues had been smashed. Therefore, when the new monarch ascended the throne and established the country’s name, he preferred to establish the capital and hold the ceremony in a prefecture city, rather than ascending the throne in the old capital, finding it inauspicious and abandoning it. In the past two years, he pieced together funds and borrowed a large sum from the Yao family of Daquan, secretly giving away many benefits. Only at the end of last year did he begin to rebuild a brand-new capital. If he’s not careful, he could become a vassal state of the Yao family of Daquan.

Cui Dongshan was not a great mountain lord like Wei Bo, nor was he managing mountains within his own jurisdiction, nor did he possess the innate power of the Mountain-Moving Ancestor. Therefore, the relocation of this old sacred mountain consumed a great deal of Cui Dongshan’s energy and wealth. He had to first set up a large array to encompass the entire mountain range, then use the Buddhist art of Mustard Seed Sumeru, which would be equivalent to carrying a mountain north. Therefore, for at least half of the journey, Cui Dongshan could not fly and could only walk on foot.

Learning from the ancient earth immortals, moving rivers and lifting mountains.

After taking root, he would have the talisman puppets, the mountain movers and fish catchers, either repair the mountain roots or perform cloud seeding and water gathering within the lower sect’s territory.

In the future, when three mountains are relocated here, the lower sect will form a ground layout of one main peak and two auxiliary peaks.

After a hearty meal, Cui Dongshan led the way, and the group began to climb the mountain and tour the area. Cui Dongshan helped introduce the scenic spots along the way.

This mountain used to be one of the Five Sacred Mountains, so it couldn’t just be a single mountain peak, but rather an entire mountain range. Cui Dongshan renamed many of the mountains and peaks. In addition to renaming the old mountain as Xiantu Mountain, which would be the ancestral mountain of the lower sect in the future, he named the main peak Qingping Peak, and there was also a Soaring Platform at the peak.

As for the foot of the secondary peak, there was also a river nearby, which Cui Dongshan named the Treasure-Dropping Beach.

When Xiao Mo heard the name “Treasure-Dropping Beach,” he was stunned, as if he had noticed something unusual behind him. The big white goose walking in front, flicking its sleeves, laughed in his mind, “Mr. Xiao Mo, don’t overthink it. There’s no connection between this Treasure-Dropping Beach and the Bixiao Cave of the stinky Daoist. I’m just hoping for good luck.”

In that ancient era when humans and demons lived together, and there were gods in the sky, whoever came out of Bixiao Cave next to the Treasure-Dropping Beach was invincible. If one could spare others, they would not. If one could yield the way, they would not.

At that time, Daoists and Earth Immortals all over the world would be a little apprehensive when they met that person.

Xiao Mo was, of course, an exception. However, the two sides neither exchanged Daoist techniques nor had a sword duel. On the contrary, they got along well and hit it off. Xiao Mo even brewed wine with the green-clothed Daoist on the Treasure-Dropping Beach outside Bixiao Cave.

Chen Lingjun walked beside the big white goose, his sleeves fluttering with a crackling sound.

That nephew, Mr. Zheng, said that this is called a flying dragon in the sky, with dense clouds and rain, and a hidden roar after the storm.

Cui Dongshan turned his head and looked at Jia the Old Immortal, asking with a smile, “Second Steward, where is that robe that looks so valuable? Why didn’t you take it out to wear and bask in the sun and moonlight?”

Jia the Old Immortal replied sheepishly in his mind, “I always keep in mind the teachings of Immortal Master Cui and constantly remind myself that it is easy to go from frugality to luxury, but difficult to go from luxury to frugality.”

It turned out that before disembarking, the blind Daoist had already taken off his luxurious robe and put on the simple attire of the current manager of Riding Dragon Lane.
“At the foot of the mountain, there are ways of the foot of the mountain; at the mountainside, there are principles of the mountainside. Don’t be so rigid. Now that you’re the second-in-charge of the Wind Kite Ferry, people rely on their attire, and Buddhas rely on gold plating. You can’t be too shabby. In the future, Immortal Jia will need to interact with all sorts of people, and inevitably encounter some snobs. Don’t let your clothes ruin business.”

Cui Dongshan remained silent for a while, then said with a grin, “Shabby clothes can be replaced with Daoist robes, but if the aura of poverty is hard to shed, that’s not beautiful.”

As a result, Cui Dongshan received a slap on the back of his head from the Master.

Chen Pingan scolded, “You’re about to become a Sect Master, who taught you to be so sarcastic?”

Immortal Jia quickly swallowed his saliva and cleared his throat, then said in a serious and loud voice, “Mountain Master, Sect Master Cui is absolutely right. If he didn’t consider this poor Daoist as one of his own, why would he say such golden words that sound harsh at first?”

Chen Pingan remained silent.

Discipline Enforcer Changming smiled gently.

Nalan Yu Die took out a brush and a bamboo slip from his sleeve and began to record the words.

Earlier, when the young Mountain Master went to Qilong Lane to invite Immortal Jia out of seclusion, after promising to take on the role of the ferry’s second-in-charge, Jia Sheng personally cooked a table of dishes to go with wine. He also called his two disciples, Zhao Denggao and Tian Jiu’er. The old Immortal, unusually, didn’t say much, only offered a few toasts. Compared to his usual flowery language, his toasting words seemed very ordinary. He only thanked the Mountain Master for taking in the three of them back then, giving them a place to stay, so they wouldn’t have to continue wandering and thanked Falling Mountain for its generous treatment over the years, allowing them to live a stable life without feeling like outsiders. It wasn’t just like a home, it *was* a home.

Finally, the old Daoist stood up, holding his cup to salute the heavens and the four directions, saying that he had to thank the heavens for opening their eyes, allowing him to have the good fortune to come here, to meet Mountain Master Chen, and to meet everyone at Falling Mountain.

The group continued to climb, but unfortunately, the large, high-quality timber in the mountain had long been cut down, and countless magnificent palaces and Daoist temples had been destroyed, leaving only some foundation traces. Even the cliff carvings hadn’t escaped, either being casually erased by demon clan spells. They reached a secluded path by a stream, only slightly higher than the halfway point, already towering over the bird path. The viewing pavilion on the cliff and the waterside pavilion had both disappeared, only the white clouds and birds outside the mountain slowly flew by.

The white-robed youth scooped up a handful of water and smiled, “Master, this water is good for brewing wine and tea. This stream never floods during heavy rains or dries up during droughts. It’s one of the few valuable things in the mountain. Moreover, the quality of the stream water will only improve over time.”

Chen Pingan smiled and nodded, “I can barely be considered proficient in both brewing wine and tea.”

Cui Dongshan tilted his palm and stood up, “In the future, I’ll erect a stone tablet nearby, with words jointly written by someone, to engrave a poem about wandering immortals. Let’s write… Master, why don’t you improvise one?”

The “someone” that Cui Dongshan was referring to was probably Cui Chan.

With so many people present, he couldn’t directly call him the old turtle.

As soon as they heard that the young Mountain Master was going to compose a poem.

Immortal Jia shouted his approval, and Chen Lingjun immediately followed suit.

Nalan Yu Die and the chubby Cheng Chaolu clapped enthusiastically.

Chen Pingan’s face darkened.

Fortunately, Xiao Mi Li wasn’t here.

Chen Pingan turned to look at Xiao Mo.

It was a hint to Xiao Mo that his mind was filled with books and that he could find things quickly, and could take over and help out, resolving the situation. He could cobble together a poem about wandering immortals and gloss over the matter.

Xiao Mo, whose smile was still a little restrained, mistakenly thought that his young master was displeased with his lack of enthusiasm, and immediately hugged his walking stick and raised his hands, clapping lightly to show his anticipation.

Chen Pingan took the lead to move, only leaving a sentence, “Let’s save it for later.”

Immortal Jia stroked his beard and smiled, whispering to Xiao Mo, “The Mountain Master must have a plan in mind.”

In fact, Chen Pingan already had something in mind. Who couldn’t rattle off a few limericks? But with Master and student Cao Qinglang present, Chen Pingan was ultimately embarrassed to show off his lack of talent.

Xiao Mo began to search through the books in his mind. Incantations and green poems about wandering immortals, so many. He nodded and said, “Ancient trees reach the sky, building cloud houses, the true spirit’s traces are called the Immortal Capital.”

Immortal Jia pondered for a moment, then nodded and said, “Brother Xiao Mo, using Ding Yanling’s poem as the opening is quite fitting.”

Cui Dongshan held the back of his head with both hands and smiled, “My mountain rises three thousand feet from the ground, its emerald green soaring into the sky for ten thousand years.”

Near the summit, Cui Dongshan said through a voice transmission, “Master, the seating arrangements at the mountain gate are different from those at Falling Mountain.”

Cui Dongshan’s arrangements were very much in line with the rules of Haoran, so they seemed less like Falling Mountain.

Chen Pingan smiled and said, “I already promised you, you can handle the affairs of the lower sect yourself. I won’t interfere too much.”

In Falling Mountain, there was harmony and a strong sense of human touch. The realm of the cultivators and martial artists didn’t matter much, so there was naturally less emphasis on the hierarchy, seniority, and closeness.

But Chen Pingan didn’t think that the lower sect had to copy the upper sect in every aspect.

Unless Chen Pingan felt that there were certain problems with the lower sect, he would make an exception and make a unilateral decision.

Arriving at the Floating Cloud Platform at the top of the mountain, Chen Pingan took out two items and handed them to Cui Dongshan, “Consider this a gift from me in advance. There will be another one for the celebration, separate from this.”

A pair of couplets given by Wu Shuangjiang.

The twelve flying swords from the Jade City of the Cloud Pattern Dynasty.

The white-robed youth put them into his sleeve, and bowed to the Master to thank him.

The cave heaven that he had obtained from Tian Wan had not yet “landed,” and Cui Dongshan still had interconnected landscape arrangements.

Chen Pingan remembered something and asked Cui Dongshan with a smile, “Is Zhu Lian’s swordsmanship actually very good?”

Because the old Daoist priest had visited Falling Mountain last time and stopped at the mountain gate, only drinking tea and chatting with Zhu Lian, this “native” from blessed lands. He had mentioned Zhu Lian’s swordsmanship and asked Zhu Lian if he would choose nine sword immortal embryos as disciples. A fourteenth-realm grand cultivator would never make casual remarks.

Back then, Chen Pingan had accidentally entered the depths of the lotus flowers and had only heard that Zhu Lian had the nicknames “Martial Madman” and “Noble Young Master.” At most, he knew that the old cook had traveled the world with his sword when he first ventured out, and had caused a lot of romantic debts.

Cui Dongshan said, “Zhu Lian’s swordsmanship deserves the word ‘outstanding’. He is the greatest master of swordsmanship in the world before Ding Ying of the blessed lands, like a peak rising abruptly above the mountains.”

Chen Pingan asked in confusion, “Then why have I never seen Zhu Lian practice swords?”
He often saw the little charcoal briquette practicing his mad demon swordplay, and the old cook was the most enthusiastic and supportive, to an almost excessive degree of flattery.

Cui Dongshan chuckled, “Perhaps the old cook feels that practicing swordsmanship has become rather meaningless.”

Chen Pingan sighed, “It’s truly infuriating to compare people.”

Far away there was Zhu Lian, closer by his disciple Pei Qian, and now there was even Chai Wu by his side.

Cui Dongshan didn’t linger long on Fuying Terrace. He soon took his leave, leading the Lower Sect down the mountain to continue their busy work. Everyone had clearly defined roles now, and the tasks were numerous.

Cui Dongshan even pulled in Lu Baixiang and his two disciples.

Cui Dongshan personally handled all the affairs of the Lower Sect, attending to every detail himself. The Upper Sect, the dilapidated Falling Mountain, seemed to have only provided the sect’s name.

Chen Pingan glanced at the retreating figures of Lu Baixiang and his disciples. It seemed that from the moment they met at the ferry crossing until now, as they followed Lu Baixiang away from the mountaintop, Yuanbao hadn’t looked at Cao Qinglang much at all.

No need to guess then, it must be as Little Rice Grain, the little tattletale, had said – there really was something going on.

But what else could outsiders do in such a situation, other than to know but pretend not to know?

Chen Pingan gazed at a mountaintop near Azure Lotus Peak, which seemed to have been acquired by Sui Youbian. Similar to Fuying Terrace, she had named it Sweeping Flower Platform.

Mountain wind blows through the empty forest, rustling as if people were there.

A Wind Kite ferry, making a round trip across continents, would take just over a month if one didn’t account for docking time. But with seventeen mountain ferry crossings along the way to load and unload cargo, there would inevitably be delays, so it took about two months for each trip. Three trips a year meant spending half a year on the journey. Back in the days of trading with the Great Wall of Sword Qi, the intercontinental ferries mostly made two round trips to Upside-Down Mountain each year.

Before leaving Falling Mountain, the old Daoist priest made only one final request, asking Cui Dongshan and Zhu Lian to relay it to Chen Pingan: the survival of Golden Summit Temple in Tongye Continent was irrelevant, but Shao Yuanran had to be preserved.

The implication was that no matter how Falling Mountain and Golden Summit Temple fought, no matter how many people died or if the ancestral hall was torn down, Shao Yuanran could not be touched. The true Daoist lineage of Golden Summit Temple could not be extinguished. And the Daoist lineage of Golden Summit Temple was extremely subtle, tracing back to the Louguan School, which “built towers of grass and observed the stars and qi.”

Chen Pingan’s pre-arranged plan with Cui Dongshan was for the Lower Sect to choose a site that occupied the “Tianquan” position, the point where the Dipper’s body connected to the handle. This would not only protect Peace Mountain but also completely disrupt Golden Summit Temple’s seven-appearing, two-hidden formation.

When Cui Dongshan chose this place to establish the sect, Du Hanling of Golden Summit Temple would likely breathe a sigh of relief, more or less.

But even if they became half-neighbors, Chen Pingan wondered if Du Hanling would personally come to offer congratulations or send the Daoist temple’s chief retainer, Lu Ying, to test the waters.

Mi Yu found Chen Pingan and said softly, “Hidden Officer, I have an immature suggestion.”

Chen Pingan retorted, “Immature? Then wait until it’s ripe before you tell me.”

Mi Yu was speechless.

First there was Colorful Sparrow Manor, then Jade Hairpin Island. Chen Pingan hadn’t settled these scores with the Great Sword Immortal Mi.

Ruining the atmosphere of my Falling Mountain.

Mi Yu gritted his teeth and said, “I want to let Xiao Mo serve as the chief retainer of the Lower Sect. I will continue to retain my second seat in Falling Mountain and stay here to cultivate. As long as there is a place to contribute, I will never slack off.”

Chen Pingan shook his head. “This matter is not possible for the time being. I have an agreement with Xiao Mo. He is serving as a death warrior by my side for a limited time. His current retainer status is just a smokescreen. When the agreed term is up, then Xiao Mo’s decision to leave or stay will be a true determination.”

Mi Yu said, “Given Xiao Mo’s temperament, plus how well he gets along with Falling Mountain…”

Chen Pingan still shook his head. “That’s the situation, but the principle is not like that.”

Mi Yu was sincerely convinced. “No wonder when I went to Spring Pennant House, I could only be a door god in the accounting room.”

“Mi Yu has always been Mi Lanyao of the Great Wall of Sword Qi.”

Chen Pingan added, “He’s also the head of our Summer Palace.”

If Pei Qian felt a headache when she met Guo Zhujiu, then the Great Sword Immortal Mi felt an even greater headache when he thought of the group of supremely intelligent young sword cultivators in the Summer Palace. Their words were truly cutting. What sword skills and talent were both top-notch, and the meritorious deeds of Sword Immortal Mi, and the jadeite and floral crowns, etc.

Chen Pingan suddenly asked, “Has Chief Zhou invited you to Flower God Mountain in Cloud Grotto Paradise? Have you heard of Rouge Map?”

Mi Yu replied decisively, “I have not been invited, and I have never heard of it!”

Chen Pingan chuckled. “Little Rice Grain doesn’t say that. She not only said that you are good at poetry contests and have literary talent as big as a bowl, but she also confidently and assuredly declared that she would do her best to contribute to Chief Zhou’s Flower God Mountain Rouge Ranking.”

Mi Yu looked helpless and began to play dumb.

The Great Sword Immortal Mi had just left when Chen Lingjun followed closely behind.

Chen Lingjun tentatively said, “Master, let’s discuss something.”

Chen Pingan asked with a smile, “Because of your amazing talent and diligent cultivation, you are about to break through again? Are you planning to go down the river again?”

Chen Lingjun was speechless for a moment.

This time, Chen Lingjun was brazenly following the Wind Kite ferry south to Tongye Continent, of course, with some private intentions, but this matter was rather difficult to talk about.

Chen Pingan said bluntly, “Don’t even think about the Lower Sect’s mountain protection retainer. I have already discussed it with Dongshan, and I plan to let Hongxia serve as the right guardian of the Lower Sect’s ancestral mountain.”

Chen Lingjun scratched his head and said he knew.

A little disappointed, but it was nothing, a little sadness, a matter of a drink.

The candidates for the Lower Sect’s mountain protection retainer, in addition to Hongxia, who successfully transformed into a dragon after traveling down the river, also included Pei Xiang, the ruler of the Fox Kingdom, but the latter was yet to be determined.

Chen Pingan reached out and pressed the head of the blue-clothed boy, gently shaking it. He smiled and said, “When you reach the Jade Purity Realm one day, I will let you be the left guardian of Falling Mountain. Isn’t that also a mountain protection retainer? The rank is even higher.”

Chen Lingjun shook his head, a little dizzy.

Chen Pingan said frankly, “This matter was strongly recommended by Little Rice Grain, seconded by Pei Qian, and Nuanshu did not object. Since you are so popular, I will agree.”

Who didn’t know that among Falling Mountain, the bamboo building lineage was the most favored by the mountain owner and had the most say?

Chen Lingjun suddenly realized, no wonder Nuanshu, that stupid girl, had taken the initiative to find him not long ago, saying a few silly words, telling him to cultivate well and not let down his master’s high expectations, etc.
Chen Lingjun nodded vigorously, “Master, rest assured a thousand times, I will definitely break through as soon as possible.”

Chen Pingan reminded him, “Hasty actions on slow matters means you shouldn’t delay. Slow actions on urgent matters means you must be steady and without mistakes.”

Chen Lingjun grinned, “I’ll have the jade tablet record it on bamboo slips and place it on the desk at Luopo Mountain as my motto.”

A figure in a green robe, hands clasped in his sleeves, with a gentle expression, and a young boy in blue with arms crossed, his eyebrows lively.

This was their own affiliated sect.

Cui Dongshan, at the Immortal Realm.

Zhong Qiu, a martial artist at the peak of the Distant Wanderer Realm.

Cui Wei, a sword cultivator at the Nascent Soul Realm. His direct disciple, Yu Xiehui, was also a sword cultivator.

Cao Qinglang, a Qi refiner at the Dragon Gate Realm, soon to become a Golden Core cultivator.

Chief Offering Mi Yu, a Jade Purity Realm sword cultivator stuck in a bottleneck. This bottleneck seemed bottomless, and breaking through remained a distant prospect. Reaching the Jade Purity Realm was difficult. That was why Mi Yu had made a fool of himself at the Sword Qi Great Wall. Now, breaking through the Jade Purity bottleneck was even harder.

Sui Youbian, a registered cultivator in the Ancestral Hall of the Lower Sect, a sword cultivator at the Nascent Soul Realm. She would join hands with her eldest disciple, Cheng Chaolu, to occupy a mountain peak for cultivation, which she personally named Sweeping Flower Terrace.

Yu Xiehui and Cheng Chaolu, two sword immortal embryos from the Sword Qi Great Wall, were both the first disciples of their respective masters.

Shao Poxian, a remnant of the old Zhuying Dynasty, from the Zhuying Dugus, was the Crown Prince in disguise, a sword cultivator at the Nascent Soul Realm. The Mountain Lord of Central Peak, Jin Qing, showed such extraordinary respect to Luopo Mountain, making concessions to Cui Dongshan and Chen Pingan in land and resource deals within his jurisdiction, practically giving money to Luopo Mountain, for this very reason.

The maid Meng Long, at the Sea Gazing Realm, was a scion of the old Zhuying Dynasty’s prominent Meng clan.

Shi Qiu, at the Cave Mansion Realm.

The two earth immortal ghosts residing in “talisman skins” were a pair of Daoist partners, together through life and death. They had been dutiful and taciturn on the ferry.

And the three disgraced cultivators from Yuzhigang’s Shuyilou were temporarily guests of the Lower Sect. Restoring Yuzhigang’s incense and Daoist lineage was as difficult as ascending to heaven. Now, the immortal families of Tongye Continent held the same view of the catastrophe that destroyed Yuzhigang’s sect: opening the door to welcome thieves, a self-inflicted disaster.

Therefore, the three former Shuyilou disciples did not appear at today’s gathering.

Chen Pingan did not ask the reason. Anyway, all affairs of the Lower Sect, large and small, were entrusted to Cui Dongshan.

In addition, there was a Wind Kite Ferry connecting the upper and lower sects.

There was the Head Steward, Zhang Lv Changming, the Second Steward, Jia Sheng, the accountant, Zhang Jiading, and the abacus master, Nalan Yudie.

The Wind Kite Ferry would continue south, passing Taoye Ford in the Daquan Dynasty, Yu Guizong, until it reached Qushan Ford, located at the southernmost tip of Tongye Continent.

Chen Pingan did not take the ferry for a long journey, but instead traveled south with Xiao Mo, Pei Qian, and Cao Qinglang. Of course, it was not just sightseeing. Otherwise, Chen Pingan would not have left Guo Zhujiu, Zhao Shuxia, and Zhao Luan behind.

Chen Pingan had his own reasons and care for each of these direct disciples, but he could not be partial in his actions.

Simply because Cao Qinglang was the designated successor of the sect master, his Lower Sect was a “river dragon” crossing the continent from Zhongtu to Tongye, he needed to become familiar with some of the local powers in Tongye Continent early on. Moreover, he had promised Huangyi Yun of Pushan Yuncaotang in Chief Zhou’s Cloud Grotto Blessed Land that he would bring his disciple Pei Qian to visit.

Besides the Rain Prayer Immortal Spell and the Cloud Water Body learned from the Jiuzhen Immortal Pavilion, Chen Pingan had taught them to Cao Qinglang and Zhao Luan before leaving the Lower Sect. Of course, there was also Chai Wu, the little girl who liked to drink at least half a pound of liquor every day. Xiao Mo was asked to teach her, as Chen Pingan really couldn’t.

Before setting off, Guo Zhujiu asked her Eldest Sister with a smile if she wanted her to travel with them.

Pei Qian said of course she would.

Guo Zhujiu waved her hand, and then that Eldest Sister would take it that she traveled with them. Staying at home, she could travel the world without leaving her doorstep, making a fortune.

Pei Qian could only be speechless.

Regarding the hanging of portraits in the Ancestral Hall of the Lower Sect, Cui Dongshan had mentioned his idea on the way up the mountain, intending to ask a mountain friend from Middle Earth Continent to help paint a portrait for their Master.

It was a master painter as famous as Wu Daozi, nicknamed Gu Xiaqiu. Both were revered as Painting Sages in the Vast World, each with their own strengths. One was meticulous and realistic, unmatched in the Vast World, the other was imaginative and vivid, capturing the spirit. The former and Bai Ye came from the same dynasty and were close in age. Old Master Wu was renowned before he even began cultivating, praised for “exhausting the mysteries of painting before reaching the age of twenty.” The emperor even ordered that he was not allowed to paint without an imperial decree, fearing that “dispersing his spirit would disturb the spirits of the nation.” The latter’s painting skills, especially in adding the finishing touches, were described by Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City as “unprecedented since the beginning of sentient beings.”

Both were skilled in painting immortals, Buddhas, gods, and ghosts. Therefore, it was a great honor for temples and Taoist temples in Middle Earth Continent to invite one of the Painting Sages to paint murals.

The portrait of the Literary Sage that hung in literary temples throughout the world was painted by Old Master Wu.

The Old Scholar had been very satisfied with it back then, but now he was less satisfied. During his travels to Bihai Palace in Tongye Continent and Chunshan Academy in Treasure Bottle Continent, he was not immediately recognized, which showed that the portrait, while resembling the real person, lacked a certain indescribable spiritual essence.

So the Old Scholar returned to Middle Earth Continent this time and went to the Painting Sage, patted the old man on the shoulder, and sighed with resentment, “Since we’re friends, I won’t say much. After all, I came to you for the portrait, so I can’t blame anyone. Hurry up, get a pot of wine, and we’ll drink away our grudges, treating it as a joke.”

The old man immediately tilted his head and patted his cheeks, “Where’s that thing? Where did it go? Did someone steal it?”

In fact, Cui Dongshan had already sent two portraits of his Master to that Old Gu.

One was of Master as a boy on Osmanthus Island, and the other was of the young Hidden Official attending the Literary Temple Assembly.

If Old Gu dared to be perfunctory, dare to paint badly, not resemble, or lack the spirit, then Cui Dongshan would not care about sentiment or old friendship.

Cui Dongshan also had a requirement: his Master had to be in the posture of a green-robed swordsman.
The sky was clear and the earth bright. Among the towering peaks and plunging ravines, mountain winds howled, and white water surged. Above the boundless sea of clouds and the mighty rivers, a figure in azure robes led the way, riding the wind on a distant journey, their wide sleeves flapping in the air.

They looked down upon the mortal realm, its lands and rivers.

The group would occasionally pause, stopping to wander and stroll.

A young official from the River Conservancy, his robes worn and his hands chapped with frostbite, was being berated by an old laborer who looked like a river worker, accusing him of spouting nonsense.

At a feast with wine, poetry flowed, and the cultured gentlemen composed verses. As soon as a poem was finished, a woman would set it to music and sing it without end, her slender hands tapping sandalwood, with singing and dancing adding to the scene of prosperous peace.

A minor official from the Ministry of Works’ Estimating Office, carrying an official document detailing materials, arrived at full gallop. After dismounting, he rushed to seek an audience with his superior. The gatekeeper refused to let him pass, and the official’s pleas were in vain, earning him a “Get lost!” Weary from his journey, he could only squat by the roadside, gazing longingly towards the gate, waiting for his superior, a man of noble lineage, to return from his drinking, hoping he wouldn’t be too drunk to remember anything.

In a place of exquisite beauty, the water was a jade ribbon, the mountains like emerald hairpins. Evening mists swirled around the deep woods, and the setting sun cast its gentle rays upon the tall buildings.

The immortal masters in the mountains were unusually busy, rebuilding the ancestral hall. They had even hired a Daoist immortal skilled in painting at great expense to paint five colorful dragons on the beams and pillars of the new hall. Although their eyes had not yet been dotted, they already possessed a majestic aura, with “scales stirring, as if rain and mist were about to form.”

Within hundreds of miles, people were quarrying stone from the mountains, spending money in the surrounding counties and towns to buy items from common folk. They were dismantling old official buildings and abandoned courtyards, taking down old wooden beams. Carriages laden with exotic flowers, rare herbs, antiques, and treasures converged on this mountain from all directions.

Under cover of darkness, taking advantage of the crowd dispersing from the ancestral hall, the azure-robed figure took the lead, sneaking in stealthily.

Pei Qian had once passed by this place, chatting with an old immortal who was buying wine in the market outside the mountain.

The immortals on this mountain had never left their homeland to visit the vibrant world beyond, resulting in the deaths of many cultivators with established lineages.

Chen Ping’an used water-based spells and talismans to dot the eyes of a black dragon on a beam, causing it almost to transform and ascend to immortality.

Then, he joined his fingers and pressed them against the dragon’s forehead, gently touching it, bestowing upon it a portion of his pure water essence before allowing it to return to the beam.

In the darkness of night,

Atop the mountain ranges, a canopied bed floated in mid-air, large as a pavilion, intricately crafted, and extraordinarily beautiful.

Like the grand procession of a high-ranking official in the mortal world, two groups of monstrous and ghostly attendants, like assistant officials and clerks, led the way, clearing the path with gongs and warning onlookers to make way and remain silent. Behind them, two rows of peacock feather fans and large umbrellas and banners were held high for the “carriage.”

Ahead on the “road,” several figures suddenly stopped, arcing slightly to land on a peak off the path.

A woman rolled up a book and used it to lift the curtain, her brow furrowed slightly as she looked down at the mountain not far away.

The group of foreign cultivators looked unfamiliar and didn’t seem like ordinary Daoists.

After hesitating for a moment, she decided not to cause unnecessary trouble, lowered the curtain, and told her attendants to continue on their way.

Xiao Mo caught sight of the book in the mountain goddess’s hand and smiled, “It’s the ‘Twenty-Four Flower Season Wind Seal Album,’ from a Supreme Guest of a Hundred Flowers Paradise. According to a mountain and water gazette from Changchun Palace, it’s on the list with the Young Master’s ‘Myriad Sword Immortal Seal Album,’ though its ranking is far below the Young Master’s.”

Chen Ping’an was bewildered. “What list?”

Xiao Mo explained, “It’s a newly released ranking from a Immortal Mansion in Aiaizhou, selecting the best seal albums of the last thousand years. The Young Master’s ‘Myriad Sword Immortal Seal Album’ is ranked third. It seems they’ve also printed all ten albums, which are selling very well both on and off the mountains.”

Pei Qian whispered, “They’re really not being fair. When Master travels to Aiaizhou in the future, we’ll have to demand payment.”

Chen Ping’an smiled and dismissed it.

Since they had stopped here, Chen Ping’an simply built a fire with Xiao Mo and the others to cook a meal.

Cao Qinglang asked, “Has Master decided on the name for the lower branch?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “I have. Dongshan came up with it. It’s excellent.”

Of all the group, only Cao Qinglang didn’t drink.

Even Chen Ping’an’s stern lectures as a teacher were no use.

Very good, worthy of being his favorite student, having his own opinions.

He looked at Pei Qian again. Her drinking capacity was not bad, also very good, showing her wandering the Jianghu has not been in vain.

Because Cao Qinglang didn’t drink, Chen Ping’an naturally thought of Liu Wudi, the drinking champion of Taihui Sword Sect. He had to immediately send a flying sword message to remind Liu Jinglong that on his way to attend the lower branch’s celebration, he should stop at the Great Li capital to help Han Zhoujin, a formation master of the Earth Branch lineage, to give some pointers on formations. Fortunately, he had already contacted Han Zhoujin beforehand. He believed that Liu Jinglong would be able to go there with pleasure and not return until he was completely drunk after arriving at that immortal inn.

Liu Jinglong, it seems that my friends are not as important as your friends.

The moon hung in the sky, and the mountain winds blew in gusts. Chen Ping’an held a bowl of wine, looked up at the bright moon, then looked down before looking up again, finishing a bowl of wine in one go. He had already decided how to make the stream in his Immortal Capital Mountain famous, “The round moon in the sky, the second spring on earth.” As for the first and third springs, he didn’t know, and he didn’t care who wanted to argue about it.

Pei Qian asked, “Master, what’s the name of the lower branch?”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Let me keep you in suspense. I’ll tell you later.”

Before Cui Dongshan left Fuping, he had suggested in his heart that the lower branch be named Qingping Sword Sect.

However, Cui Dongshan did not forget to add that Master’s name would definitely be better, just treat this as a student throwing out a brick to attract jade.

Chen Ping’an thought it was excellent and the best it could be, so he unhesitatingly abandoned his own spare names.

The drunken swordsman gazes down upon his tipsy realm. A Dao heart sees the universe as small, but a wine cup as wide, ancient and modern are short, but aspiration is long. Only I smile and caress Qingping, the three-foot sword in my hand, never betraying my life.