In Riding Dragon Lane, at the Year-Suppressing Shop, the white-haired boy sat in the doorway, listlessly basking in the sun. Seeing Chen Pingan, who had come to audit the accounts, he only mumbled a greeting, “Hidden Official Ancestor.”

Compared to before, there was a slight difference. Between the two adjacent shops, a long wooden bench, common in rural villages, had been added. Neighbors could sit together and chat when they had the time.

Chen Pingan sat down, smoothed his blue robe, crossed his legs, and asked with a leisurely smile, “Would you like to cultivate in the Tongye Continent? There’s a small blessed land there. Bai Xuan and Cheng Chaolu are practicing swordsmanship inside. I can have Cui Dongshan build you a Daoist temple. I’ll pay for it. The entire sect territory, hundreds of miles around, is our own. If you’re interested, you can guide Cheng Chaolu and the others in their cultivation. There’s a little girl named Chai Wu, with excellent cultivation aptitude, the first disciple of Wei Xian. Your knowledge is extensive, so you should be able to teach anyone. If you fancy any mountain peaks, just tell Cui Dongshan it’s my will, and he’ll allocate them to you directly. Consider it a mountain-opening ceremony without the celebration. As for your status on Qingping Peak’s Ancestral Hall’s genealogy, a guest elder, choose as you like. In the future, if you encounter any disciples with good aptitude, you can take them as you please.”

With Bai Jing’s presence, Riding Dragon Lane could easily attract the prying eyes of those with ulterior motives. In contrast, Qingping Sword Sect was a better place to conceal him.

A peak Ascension Realm sword cultivator, especially a wild demonic race who had lived for tens of thousands of years, would attract far more attention than a nascent sect, regardless of status or strength.

The white-haired boy was still listless, saying weakly, “It’s too far. I can’t go.”

“It’s good to be a handyman disciple here. You’re familiar with everyone. It’s better than starting from scratch over there, spending time and effort, and teaching others. I’m not good at that.”

“Hidden Official Ancestor, you can’t be fickle. Just because there are a few more like Cui Peanut and Xie Dog, you want to get rid of me? Not to mention anything else, my loyalty is unparalleled.”

Chen Pingan laughed, “If you don’t want to move, then forget it.”

The white-haired boy sniffed, looked left and right, and surreptitiously pulled out a booklet from his sleeve. “A fist manual, a living one. A total of thirty-six illustrations, thirty-six fist techniques, famous martial arts of a peak Martial Artist from the Qingming Continent, the best of the best. Ordinary fist techniques aren’t qualified to be recorded. You know better than me what someone’s standards are, how picky they are.”

Chen Pingan smiled, “It would have been useful a few years ago, but it’s not that important now.”

Even as he said that, he quickly reached out and put it in his sleeve without even looking.

Those weren’t just polite words. Just like the fist techniques from Mount Pu, derived from the Six Immortal Paintings, the benefit to Chen Pingan’s current fist technique was actually quite limited. If he didn’t need to teach others, Chen Pingan might not have spent so much effort to refine and improve the Pu Mountain fist techniques, trying to lower the threshold for ordinary martial artists, and then compile it into a book.

It seemed that the more one learned fist techniques, the higher one’s own realm, the more one could appreciate the rare quality of the Shaking Mountain Fist.

Chen Pingan certainly wanted to compile a fist manual that completely belonged to him, allowing the pure martial artists of the two sects to gradually cultivate, steadily climb, according to this manual, for the next ten, hundred, or thousand years, and then, like the Pu Mountain Cloud Grass Hall, future generations could continuously improve the manual, surpassing their predecessors.

Chen Pingan suddenly asked, “Have you heard any alternative views on the three layers of the Martial Artist’s Peak Realm?”

The white-haired boy shook his head. “I don’t practice martial arts. That doesn’t concern me. Even if you told me, I probably wouldn’t take it seriously.”

Chen Pingan apologized, “I shouldn’t have talked about that.”

The white-haired boy grinned. “You don’t sound like the Hidden Official Ancestor anymore.”

Before Returning to the Origin, from the nine realms of a martial artist to the first layer of the Peak Realm, Qi Ascendant, was still valued, especially Qi Ascendant.

Once a martial artist reached the first layer of Returning to the Origin, they needed to melt their martial arts experience, stances, techniques, and fist principles into one, seeking the word “condensation,” proving the saying “Returning to Simplicity.”

As for what “Divine Arrival” was? Chen Pingan was still exploring, and could only rely on himself to figure it out. When he practiced fist techniques on the second floor of the bamboo building, the old man never talked about these things. The occasional related words were mostly unpleasant, such as, “With your body like paper, and your mind like paste, how dare you dream of the tenth realm at the peak? If you can reach half that, becoming a fifth-realm martial artist, you should be grateful…”

In Chen Pingan’s view, Zhu Lian was someone who always stayed in the Distant Roaming Realm, yet constantly thought about the subtleties and key points of the first layer of Returning to the Origin.

Fists have weight, methods have no rank.

Ordinary people lacked confidence when speaking this truth.

But Zhu Lian didn’t need to speak, that was just how it was.

After all, he was the first martial arts madman in the history of Lotus Root Paradise to slaughter all nine others from the other continents.

Zhu Lian’s ambition and state of mind were so vast that even Chen Pingan couldn’t claim to see through them clearly.

The white-haired boy went from sitting to squatting, perhaps to appear taller. Afterwards, they were both silent, basking in the warm spring sunshine, lazy and languid.

Chen Pingan’s mind wandered far away, his thoughts like slipping on a watermelon rind, going wherever they went.

Chan Buddhism has always had two sayings: “Adding a head on a head” and “Original Face.”

Chen Pingan suddenly remembered the many broken statues in the Immortal Graveyard.

It seemed that there was a statue of a three-headed, six-armed demon-subduing form.

Shaking his sleeves, Chen Pingan closed his eyes, meditated for a moment, opened his eyes, hesitated, and without standing, he began to perform Dao incantations and form Dharma seals, extremely fast, more than twenty types in an instant.

However, Chen Pingan quickly stopped.

The white-haired boy also pretended not to notice. When Chen Pingan stopped that dazzling series of actions, the white-haired boy squatting on the long wood suddenly chuckled.

“One plus one equals two, even kids with split pants know that. Five plus five equals ten, the answer is obvious.”

“But if you say one plus one equals two, plus three equals five, plus two plus three finally equals ten.”

“There will be someone who insists it equals eight, or equals nine, never seeing a one or a two.”
Eleven is one plus ten, one is not eleven, and ten is not eleven. Losing ten is obvious to everyone, so this kind of blunder is uncommon. However, losing one is relatively subtle.

If ten is already like this, what about a hundred, ten thousand, or even a million? Someone once said that all learning in the world lies in resolutely subtracting, preferably subtracting until not even a single ‘one’ remains. Almost no one is willing to add.

Chen Pingan first smiled knowingly, then chuckled, then his entire face beamed with joy, and finally, he burst into hearty laughter.

This, in turn, made the white-haired child feel strange. “Is it that funny?”

This was just one of Wu Shuangjiang’s odd sayings back then. The palace maid of Sui Chu Palace, whose Daoist name was “Natural,” didn’t find anything amusing about it at the time.

She simply regarded it as Wu Shuangjiang’s idle thoughts, as he had always been like that.

Chen Pingan was certainly a restrained and reserved person, not the kind to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but he wasn’t the kind to be gloomy and silent all the time either. Even in the Sword Qi Great Wall’s prison of Old Deaf, Chen Pingan would find joy amidst suffering and often have some inexplicably comical actions. In Chen Pingan’s own words, one can endure hardship, but one shouldn’t wear a bitter face.

However, in the white-haired child’s memory, he had never seen Chen Pingan laugh so heartily as he was now.

Chen Pingan wasn’t faking it; he was genuinely happy. He finally managed to stop laughing, nodded, and said, “Very funny!”

The white-haired child pouted, “You’re all strange people.”

Chen Pingan crossed his legs, placed his hands on his knees, and smiled faintly, “When scholars argue, even in a gentlemanly debate, they often dislike following a set pattern or reasoning step by step. Well, they’re not very good at it either. It’s rare to find one that reasons well from beginning to end. There aren’t many examples. The Goose Lake Debate certainly counts as one. The next best is the poetic style dispute between Su Shi’s disciples. Then comes the invocation of benevolence and righteousness. The most despicable is probably only talking about private morality. The amusing thing about the world is that this last one is often the most lethal and lasts the longest, like a father-in-law having an affair with his daughter-in-law, or torturing a prostitute… Every time it’s brought up, a conclusion is drawn first, then it’s reasoned backward. As if since one’s morals are flawed, all their learning must be dross. Where can they clearly understand the specific development of the various Confucian branches? The Confucian scholars and sages of the past, and I mean those truly responsible scholars, how many attempts did they make, how many detours did they take, and how much effort and sacrifice did they make for it… I really don’t know what it’s like now, and what it will be like a thousand years or ten thousand years from now.”

And in Buddhist history, not only is there the distinction between Mahayana and Hinayana, but later, the most magnificent Zen school had significant differences with the earlier Earth Theory masters, the scripture masters with profound Buddhist principles, and the discipline masters with strict precepts. Even within the Zen school, there were constant disputes and mutual challenges, which led to so many Koans, Lamp Records, Songgu Nian’gu, and Kanhuatou… Just like Chen Pingan at the Summer Palace, he often repeatedly read “The Blue Cliff Record,” “The Empty Valley Collection,” and “The Book of Equanimity”.

Those who dislike reading naturally agree with the saying that scholars are useless.

Those who like reading naturally rejoice in reading for the sake of the next life.

But whether one likes reading or not doesn’t seem to have much to do with what kind of person one becomes.

It’s probably like what the old abbot of Xinxiang Temple in Lotus Root Blessed Land said, the way we see the world is the way the world sees us.

The white-haired child said indifferently, “Is it necessary to read a lot?”

Chen Pingan smiled, “When I say reading, I don’t just mean books.”

Chen Pingan admitted that he couldn’t manage to live a life of misfortune with composure.

But Chen Pingan had seen such people.

During those years when he was trapped in the Book Brief Lake maze, he had once seen a poor old woman with clean clothes.

So much so that Chen Pingan felt that such people were Bodhisattvas in this suffering world.

As a child gradually grows up, especially after their parents pass away, it’s like a house loses a gate, and death stands outside, waiting for that person to confront it.

The white-haired child turned his head and said softly, “Hidden Official Ancestor, wipe away your tears.”

Chen Pingan was stunned for a moment, raised his hand, but before he could touch his face, he chuckled in amusement and slapped the white-haired child.

The white-haired child tilted his head to dodge, feeling overjoyed, and burst into laughter.

Xie Gou wasn’t at the shop. Perhaps he had gone to post those quack remedies again, trying to outwit the wealthy families of Fulu Street and Taoye Lane?

Chen Pingan stood up, walked into the shop. Substitute Shopkeeper Shi Rou immediately brought out the account books. Chen Pingan stood beside the counter, casually flipping through the books, glanced at the child who was reading a book of strange tales with his head down, and asked, “Junchen, I heard from Shopkeeper Li in Hongzhu Town that you like to run up debts when buying books there?”

It was very difficult for this, his personally chosen Grand Disciple’s Grand Disciple, to call him Ancestral Master willingly.

Zhou Junchen rarely felt a little guilty and became a little mute, wanting to feign ignorance and muddle through.

Chen Pingan had no fear of discussing seniority with him, but when it came to money, the child was a little timid. Three copper coins can stump even a hero.

Chen Pingan said, “I passed by the bookstore earlier and settled your debt of several dozen taels of silver and also made some advance payment for you, don’t owe money when buying books in the future.”

The little rascal was so extravagant and generous when buying books. He wondered who taught him that. Pei Qian, who was his master would never teach him that.

Upon hearing this, Zhou Junchen beamed with joy, a rare sincere smile for the Ancestral Master.

Unexpectedly, this Ancestral Master immediately added, “What I mean is, don’t run up debts with the bookstore. It doesn’t sound good if it gets out. It’s okay to owe me money. You can pay it back slowly later, deducted from your monthly salary.”

Shi Rou held back her laughter. Little Mute, who told her everything, was very confident about this matter. Originally, he wanted to borrow money from his master, Pei Qian, to pay off the debt. According to Zhou Junchen’s calculations, as a master, would you be embarrassed to ask for the debt back from your disciple?

As a result, this Ancestral Master suddenly intervened today, and this muddled debt suddenly became very clear. Zhou Junchen was already regretting it. If he had known, he wouldn’t have bought so much.

Chen Pingan then asked, “Who came up with the idea for the signboard at Oxhorn Ferry?”
Zhou Junchen, eager to take all the credit, declared, “I came up with the idea all by myself! It has nothing to do with anyone else!”

The child was still inexperienced in the ways of the world, clearly protesting too much.

Shi Rou immediately felt a little worried. It was true that the rules of Luopo Mountain were extremely lenient.

But once the Mountain Master, Chen Ping’an, set his mind on something, he would be very persistent.

The little mute was still fearless, incredibly annoyed. He and this Grandmaster were simply not compatible. How could his Shifu have chosen such a master?

Shi Rou reached out and gently tugged at the child’s sleeve beneath the counter, signaling him to soften his stance and not be so stubborn in front of the Mountain Master.

Unexpectedly, Chen Ping’an nodded, “Still too narrow-minded. Later, you can add Yuan Lingdian of Zhixuan Peak in Beiju Luzhou, and the sword immortal Wei Jin of the Wind and Snow Temple. They are all guest officials of our Luopo Mountain, formally registered ones at that. Even if they pass by Niujiao Ferry in the future and see the sign, they won’t come looking for trouble. Also, from the Jade Decree Sect in Tongye Continent, there are Sect Leader Wei’s two direct disciples, Wei Gusu and Wei Xianyou. I believe they will both become very famous Land Sword Immortals in the future. You can also add their names, remember to write down their cultivation realms. They are both Golden Core cultivators now. Then, after the name and realm, add parentheses,”

The child asked suspiciously, “Sword Immortals in the future? Then what’s the point of writing their names now? Just to take up space? Like squatting in the latrine without pooping, pointlessly lowering the status of the other shop’s customers.”

“What do you know? Adding them later is useless. When they reach the Nascent Soul realm, or even the Jade Purity realm, it will be a different story. Eating the New Year’s shop’s pastries will help them break through.”

Zhou Junchen’s eyes widened in astonishment. You could actually do that?

He originally thought that Xie Gou was shameless enough to make money, but he never expected the person in front of him to be even more outrageous.

Chen Ping’an reminded him, “It’s just a suggestion, it has nothing to do with me.”

The little mute grinned, showing a rare, bright smile to Chen Ping’an.

This Grandmaster, who was never home, definitely had some tricks up his sleeve.

No wonder he could buy so many mountain peaks.

Chen Ping’an smiled, “Putting aside cultivation achievements, when it comes to doing business, you, boy, are far behind me and your Shifu.”

The little mute automatically ignored that sentence. He thought for a moment, seriously considering, and asked, “Is it okay to spout such nonsense? Won’t it violate the mountain’s taboos?”

Chen Ping’an leaned against the counter, casually flipping through the thin ledger. “What taboos? This is called a beautiful tale. I’ll make a bet with you. In the future, those two sword immortals surnamed Wei will definitely come to the shop to buy pastries, and they won’t be angry at all.”

“I won’t bet. Not even a single penny.”

“A small bet is fun. Just a few coins, the winnings and losses are all known.”

“That white-haired dwarf outside the door said that you were very famous in the Sword Qi Great Wall, one of the new and old Four Absolutes. You could knock people down with one punch, and you were an unbeatable bookmaker. Anyone who got on the gambling table with you, you’d kill one, kill two, kill all three…”

Chen Ping’an dismissed it with a smile.

The white-haired child basking in the sun outside the door immediately became anxious. He jumped up, came to the door, and scolded, “Little mute, watch your mouth! When did I say that Hidden Official Ancestor’s gambling skills were terrible?”

The little mute oh-ed, “You mean Chen Ping’an’s gambling skills are excellent. I just heard it the other way around.”

The white-haired child couldn’t refute the little mute’s twisted logic. He looked at Chen Ping’an with resentful eyes, “Hidden Official Ancestor, I’m wronged, I’m aggrieved!”

Chen Ping’an ignored the lively character. He reached out and rubbed Zhou Junchen’s head, “You just be naughty, you can only be arrogant in front of me. Try saying these words in front of your Shifu.”

The little mute chuckled, “My brain isn’t missing a screw like some people.”

The white-haired child put his hands on his hips, “Little mute, if you say such nonsense in a sarcastic way again, be careful I scold you! To tell you the truth, when I argue with you, I always deliberately let you win, only using less than 10% of my power!”

The corners of the little mute’s mouth turned up, his face full of disdain. “Then scold me, go ahead and scold me. You can scold my ancestors for eighteen generations. Anyway, my Shifu isn’t here, what are you afraid of?”

The white-haired child was really provoked. Oh, he even knew how to squint at people now. Who did he learn that from, who taught him…

But when the white-haired child noticed that another person was squinting at him, he immediately quieted down. He sniffled, wrinkled his face, and looked up at the sky, feeling bitter inside.

Shi Rou put her hands on the counter, watching the comedic antics of the two adults and the child, her face full of smiles.

Chen Ping’an planned to go to the shop next door to see Cui Huasheng, who would be going to Xiandu Mountain with Hongxia and Yunzi. However, the girl would become Cui Dongshan’s direct disciple.

Long-lost siblings, only Cui Dongshan could think of such a thing.

Shi Rou suddenly said in a mental voice, “Mountain Master, Pei Qian had someone send me a box of rouge earlier. Thank you.”

It was no longer her usual deliberately hoarse and low voice, but a soft and sweet female voice.

Chen Ping’an smiled and nodded, “No need to be polite with her.”

When Pei Qian was at the shop, she had a short period of studying at the school, and it was during that time that Pei Qian began to become close to Shi Rou.

After hesitating for a moment, Chen Ping’an asked in a mental voice, “Shi Rou, would you like to change your appearance and show yourself as a woman again? Besides Pei Xiang’s fox skin beauty talisman, there is also a kind of talisman made with the Yuzhigang secret method from Xiandu Mountain, which can all let you… change your residence.”

Shi Rou shook her head, “Mountain Master, no need. I’ve gotten used to it after so many years, and I really don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. Moreover, being in this celestial body every day is an excellent cultivation ground that many Qi refiners dream of.”

Zhou Junchen rarely seriously discussed matters with Chen Ping’an, even using an honorific, “Grandmaster, since you are so good at making money, why don’t you come up with some ideas for our New Year’s shop and the herb shop next door?”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “Divine immortal money should be earned, and small change and copper coins should also be earned. As long as the money comes in through the proper channels, it doesn’t matter the amount, it’s about a steady stream. Not seeking a flood of wealth, but seeking a long and continuous flow.”

After a moment of silence, Chen Ping’an reached out and pressed the child’s head, “When you grow up, you will understand this principle that is not a principle.”

The little mute nodded.
While principles may seem worthless, even a worthless principle is still a principle. Since it doesn’t cost me anything, might as well listen and see what comes of it.

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “Sometimes it’s better not to understand certain principles.”

One learns many principles from books, and one understands another through hardship.

To merely see without understanding is a form of fortune.

Chen Ping’an left Riding Dragon Lane, and the White-Haired Boy, with nothing better to do, followed behind the Hidden Official Ancestor like a little lackey.

First, they went to the Yang Family Pharmacy.

Currently, only a young shop assistant was minding the store. Due to the incident from years ago, business hadn’t been great. However, the Yang family had a solid foundation and didn’t care much.

Shi Lingshan, hailing from the Peach Leaf Lane lineage, though not among the four great surnames or ten clans, was considered to have a good background in the town.

Perhaps this young martial artist didn’t yet know that he was the last disciple of the old man in the backyard, nor did he know who his martial brothers were, or how renowned they had become throughout the world.

The White-Haired Boy sat by the doorway, not entering the shop. He wasn’t interested in the strong smell of medicine.

Chen Ping’an crossed the threshold, smiling and asking, “Is Miss Su not here?”

Shi Lingshan replied, “Senior Sister has gone on a journey.”

His Senior Sister didn’t say where she was going, but it seemed like a long trip, very far away.

Maybe she’d return next year, maybe the year after, maybe many years would pass before she returned. He would just wait here.

Shi Lingshan curiously asked, “Chen Ping’an, do you need something from Senior Sister?”

They were both locals from the town, and because of their shared lineage, Shi Lingshan didn’t have any particular feelings towards the Lord of Fallen Phoenix Mountain. No matter how many titles he had, it had nothing to do with him. If he became successful and looked down on others, then don’t bother visiting. No one was begging anyone. If he did visit, why show off? He wouldn’t put up with it. Who cared about his attitude?

Most importantly, according to some insider information from the pharmacy owner, which he wouldn’t dare publicly announce, Chen Ping’an had apparently received considerable kindness from the pharmacy when he was young.

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “It’s nothing. I just wanted to ask about her well being. I originally wanted to talk to Miss Su about some past events.”

Shi Lingshan became wary, “What do you have to talk to my Senior Sister about?”

Chen Ping’an couldn’t help but chuckle, teasing him, “Shi Lingshan, you can’t suspect me of being a thief.”

Shi Lingshan scoffed, “You never know.”

Zheng Dafeng, that good-for-nothing, once said that honest people aren’t popular, but honest people with money are extremely popular.

The White-Haired Boy, who had been listening intently, was amused. He inexplicably remembered a “tale” from Fallen Phoenix Mountain. It was said that when Li Huai was young, he followed Chen Ping’an to the Great Sui Cliff Academy to study. After they became familiar, he followed Chen Ping’an as a burden, determined to have Chen Ping’an become his brother-in-law. In the end, this little fool came to the conclusion that his sister wasn’t worthy.

Damn it, the “gang” that Xiao Mili belonged to was full of talented individuals.

Why couldn’t he join? The White-Haired Boy crossed his arms and began to seriously consider it. Could it be that he could only inherit the position of Right Protector of Riding Dragon Lane from the Crimson-Robed Child?

Wouldn’t that be even worse than a dog’s life?!

Inside the pharmacy, Chen Ping’an asked, “May I open the drawers and look at some medicinal herbs?”

Shi Lingshan said unenthusiastically, “We’re open for business. Just follow the rules. I have no grudge against you. Look as you please.”

Chen Ping’an habitually raised his hand and brushed his ribs beneath his green robe, then walked towards the medicine cabinet, looking at the labels and gently opening a drawer.

When it came to gathering herbs, preparing medicine, and brewing decoctions, Chen Ping’an was probably no less skilled than an experienced pharmacist.

It was said that the land nurtures its people, and the same was true for medicinal herbs. They were deeply connected to the soil. The same herbs grown on different mountain peaks would have vastly different medicinal properties, and the dosage would have to be adjusted accordingly. In recent years, the western mountains had become private property, making it difficult to gather herbs. Therefore, many herbs in the pharmacy had to be sourced from other channels, such as purchasing them from merchants in Red Candle Town.

The more he thought about it, the angrier the White-Haired Boy became. He suddenly stood up and ran into the house, intending to take a shortcut, bypassing the Grand Chief Pei Qian, and have the Hidden Official Ancestor issue a decree directly appointing him as a Deputy Grand Chief. Contentment was happiness, and he didn’t mind a small official position!

The White-Haired Boy lowered his voice and told the Hidden Official Ancestor about his idea. As expected, the Hidden Official Ancestor simply told him to scram.

Chen Ping’an opened another drawer and sniffed it. The name of this herb was interesting: “Wang Bu Liu Xing” (Royal Not Allowed to Stop).

Chen Ping’an gently pushed the drawer back in and turned to smile, suggesting, “Shi Lingshan, in the future, when the pharmacy sends people to gather herbs in the mountains, you can go to Immortal Herb Mountain, Vermilion Sand Mountain, and Azure Cloud Peak. There are about fifty or sixty kinds of herbs there that are probably better than the ones purchased from elsewhere and can save you some money.”

Shi Lingshan was doing calculations on an abacus, absentmindedly saying, “You’re not talking to the right person. I’m just a shop assistant and not in charge of gathering herbs. But I can mention it to someone unreliable. Let me tell you in advance, that guy is useless. He talks more than he farts, works less than he farts, all thunder and no rain. It’s a miracle the shop hasn’t closed yet, thanks to ancestral blessings.”

Chen Ping’an smiled without responding.

The town’s folk customs have always been this simple and unadorned.

They always like to speak with hidden barbs, each of them a self-taught martial arts expert.

Shi Lingshan, with his background from Peach Leaf Lane, can at most be considered a peripheral disciple of this sect.

The White-Haired Boy respected this young man as a true hero, daring to speak to their Hidden Official Ancestor in such a manner.

Even though times had changed, the residents of Fortune Street and Peach Leaf Lane in the town, compared to those who remained in other streets and alleys, if one disregarded the hidden distinction between the immortal and mortal realms, had not changed much.

There were still those who wore clean robes, studied books, and spoke of Confucius.

And there were still those with dirt under their fingernails, calloused hands stained yellow from charcoal, and who liked to curse.

Chen Ping’an left the pharmacy, standing in place for a moment after crossing the threshold.

Then, he passed by the Crab Archway.

Chen Ping’an slowly walked around the archway tower, hands clasped in his sleeves, always looking up.

“Responsibility without avoidance, words of nature, seek not outwards, Qi surges to the heavens.”

The White-Haired Boy stayed in place, there wasn’t much to see. All four plaques had lost all traces of their Daoist meaning.
Chen Ping’an continued his stroll. The tavern beside the street, the tallest building in the town, was actually owned by Aunt Feng. Business was still booming. Whenever the county held celebrations like weddings or victory banquets, locals still preferred to show off their wealth here. Some Qi refiners who had bought residences here as dojos also enjoyed a few drinks, but their liquor was naturally different from that of the common people.

The Iron Chain Well had long been cordoned off by the county government, enclosed with stone railings, preventing ordinary folk from drawing water.

And the old locust tree was gone.

Walking along the town’s main street, he reached the easternmost mud-brick house, belonging to Zheng Dafeng, the first gatekeeper of his own Fallen Phoenix Mountain.

Further out lay the once weed-choked Immortal Graveyard, from which one could detour to the old Porcelain Mountain to the north, now transformed into Civil and Military Temples by the Great Li Dynasty.

Chen Ping’an sat down on a roadside wooden post and said to the white-haired child, “Don’t follow me, it’s easy to cause misunderstandings.”

The white-haired child feigned ignorance, raising a hand high to compare their heights. “With just us two, what misunderstandings could there be?”

But to be honest, wouldn’t it be quite lucky to become the Hidden Official’s daughter?

Just look at Pei Qian, Chen Nuan Shu, and Xiao Mi Li. You can tell that if this guy ever had a daughter, he would spoil her rotten.

Then why don’t you get together with Ning Yao and have a tiger pounce, cooking the rice already? You’re a coward, deserving of your bachelorhood.

Chen Ping’an didn’t bother arguing. He sat on the wooden post, turning to look at the road stretching into the distance.

Sword Qi Great Wall, a city of countless sword cultivators. It’s not surprising that Qi refiners other than sword cultivators shouldn’t cultivate there. The sword qi is too heavy, abundant and vast, filling the heavens and earth, a torment for Qi refiners.

But there was one thing that Chen Ping’an couldn’t comprehend, the more he thought about it, the more mysterious it seemed.

That was, the number of Boundary Martial Artists in the history of the Sword Qi Great Wall was simply too few! So few that it was outrageous.

Grandma Bai, she used to be a Boundary Grandmaster, only falling from grace to the Mountain Peak Realm after being injured on the battlefield.

According to the records of the Summer Retreat Palace, going further back, the Sword Qi Great Wall had only one Boundary Martial Artist for a very long period, and she was also a female grandmaster.

It was as if the martial luck of the Sword Qi Great Wall only favored female martial artists?

Chen Ping’an tapped his knee lightly, frowning.

At the Golden Long Bridge, she once uttered a heavenly secret: the ancient star Qiming, also known as Chang Geng, was actually the location of that strange mountain peak.

Pure martial artist, flesh becoming god.

Unfortunately, that old ancestor of the Military Strategists failed to truly walk this path.

The three official positions of the Sword Qi Great Wall: Execution Official, Hidden Official, and Sacrificial Official.

According to the original intention of setting up the three officials, the Execution Official was in charge of killing, the Hidden Official was in charge of strategy, and the Sacrificial Official was in charge of sacrifices.

And the previous Sacrificial Official, according to the top-secret records of the Summer Retreat Palace, the records of successive Sacrificial Officials were extremely detailed, with only fragmentary records: a sword cultivator, Jade Pure Realm, with little meritorious service, unremarkable in every way.

He remembered Ning Yao saying that the first time she came to the town, she had heard the old man Yang mention something in Yang’s shop, that a passing Sword Immortal had left behind a travelogue of mountains and rivers.

According to the old man, he often read this travelogue, so he knew some things about the outside world.

When mentioning a sword cultivator to Ning Yao, who came from the Sword Qi Great Wall, the old man used the title “Sword Immortal.”

Chen Ping’an hadn’t paid much attention to this detail before, but now he couldn’t help but ponder it deeply.

Therefore, Chen Ping’an suspected that the records of the Summer Retreat Palace regarding the previous Sacrificial Official were deliberately falsified.

Chen Ping’an naturally thought of Yu Lu.

Standing up, Chen Ping’an didn’t go to the Immortal Graveyard, but returned the way he came, going through the streets and alleys, and then leaving the town, heading towards the stone arch bridge.

The white-haired child still followed behind, swaggering. After reaching the stone bridge, she pointed to a patch of green by the riverbank, the water plants like writing brushes, segment by segment. She curiously asked what it was.

Chen Ping’an glanced at it, saying it was Artemisia selengensis, fragrant when stir-fried with meat, delicious, but a seasonal wild vegetable, not always available.

In the spring breeze, all things grew luxuriantly, as if everything was there. But by winter, it would be as if nothing was left. Digging winter bamboo shoots was not easy, especially when the mountains were covered in snow.

Chen Ping’an smiled and said that the earliest poetry about Artemisia selengensis might have been by Su Shi. With just a few words, Su Shi could write about the beauty of the seasons in a touching way.

The white-haired child then asked if the old chef could cook this dish. Chen Ping’an said that he could. The white-haired child just said “Oh,” but didn’t have any intention of picking wild vegetables.

Chen Ping’an stood on the bridge, looking into the distance. He suddenly realized that there seemed to be more ducks in the river. That’s right, Liu Xianyang and the round-faced girl were not at the blacksmith shop.

No wonder.

The white-haired child crossed the bridge and sat down on the steps, saying, “Hidden Official Ancestor, I’ll wait here.”

Because she knew what Chen Ping’an was going to do. Many things could be done without restraint, but there were some things that shouldn’t be joked about.

Chen Ping’an turned around and smiled, “Just follow me, there’s nothing to be particular or taboo about.”

To offer incense and add soil to the grave.

On this trip to Tongye Continent, he had visited many mountains. On the way back to Fallen Phoenix Mountain, he disembarked at Old Dragon City, walked a stretch of landscape with Senior Song, and after saying goodbye, Chen Ping’an actually secretly followed the old man until he walked towards a city gate. Suddenly, the old man raised his arm and waved, and Chen Ping’an, who was silently following, smiled and left. Afterwards, he passed by and stopped at many green mountains, some still with snow.

Chen Ping’an offered incense and added soil, then took out a pot of wine and poured it on the grave.

The white-haired child squatted far away, watching from a distance.

Chen Ping’an turned to look, the grave behind him facing a distant mountain, with twin peaks resembling brush holders.

Startled, Chen Ping’an realized this for the first time. He had been ignorant in his youth, unaware of such things.

Later, he left his hometown many times, learning some superficial knowledge of aura observation and geomancy. But every time he visited the grave, Chen Ping’an had never glanced at the distant green mountain.

Chen Ping’an simply sat down next to the grave, silently looking at the mountain.

This showed that when his parents passed away, there was a reason for choosing this spot for their grave.

It was probably chosen with the help of the knowledgeable old men in the town back then.
In my hometown, year after year, the elders dwindle, and the spirit of the New Year fades.

Both Pei Qian and Xiao Mili have mentioned that even the New Year’s Eve dinners aren’t as lively as they used to be.

One year, when Chen Ping’an was away, Pei Qian, still a little soot sprite, along with a few others, kept vigil at the ancestral home in Mud Bottle Lane, setting off firecrackers bright and early the next morning.

If Chen Ping’an hadn’t given prior instructions, it’s likely that Pei Qian, already with a few coins in her pocket, would have bought out an entire shop’s worth of firecrackers.

Xiao Mili once posed a riddle, genuinely concocted by the little girl herself, not taught by Chen Ping’an.

She asked, what runs the fastest, and what runs the slowest, yet both are impossible to catch? Chen Ping’an offered numerous answers, but Xiao Mili kept saying “wrong, wrong!” She truly stumped Chen Ping’an, who was considered quite clever, delighting her to no end. Gleefully, she revealed the answer to the kind-hearted Mountain Master: yesterday and tomorrow!

It seems that is the truth of it; all yesterdays are irretrievable, and all tomorrows lie only in the morrow.

The White-Haired Child hadn’t disturbed him all this time.

The mountains are gentle, the waters are soft, willows sway, grasses grow, orioles soar, and spring is in full bloom.