In the capital of the Yunyan Kingdom, a city that never sleeps, ablaze with lights, a white-clad youth strode down the street, sleeves billowing like two fallen white clouds, shaking them as if catching fireflies.

Passing by a lavish establishment reeking of powder and perfume, women leaned over balconies, beckoning customers with embroidered sleeves. When they caught sight of the handsome young man in white on the street, they either hid their faces behind silk fans or cast longing glances, lowering their voices.

Pei Qian inquired, “Empty boasts, nonsense?”

Cui Dongshan sighed. “When venturing out, one must treat others with sincerity, speaking only the truth from the bottom of one’s heart.”

Pei Qian didn’t believe a word of what this Great White Goose said.

Cui Dongshan changed his tune. “When discussing matters over wine, it’s all about ‘Can do!’, ‘A small matter, no problem!’, ‘Leave it to me!’, ‘Drink this cup, and we’re friends!’, and ‘Next time, it’s on me!'”

Pei Qian said, “Chen Lingjun loves wine so much, he wishes he could soak in a wine vat all day long, but he doesn’t act like that.”

Cui Dongshan chuckled. “It’s different. He’s never actually tasted wine.”

Pei Qian didn’t quite understand.

Cui Dongshan offered no further explanation.

If cultivators were to ride the wind, soaring above the earth, they would see that the myriad lights of a city in the dark night resembled a cage of captured fireflies. Unlike top-tier powers such as the Jade Decree Sect and the Clouded Mountain Verdant Grass Hall, the Azure Billow Sword Sect had never purchased a residence in the capital. The Emperor of Yunyan and the Ministry of Rites had long prepared for this, not daring to neglect the sole Sect-ranked sword cultivation sect in the Tongye Continent. However, Zhong Qiuwan had declined, choosing to settle at the Fish Scale Ferry, making do with lodging and cultivation aboard their own ferry.

Mount Fallen and the Azure Billow Sword Sect, the upper and lower branches, now possessed two enviable intercontinental ferries, the Wind Kite and the Thunder Chariot, “purchased” from the Xuanshi Dynasty of the Central Earth and the Yao Clan of the Great Spring, respectively. The former plied the north-south trade route between the Northern Culux Continent, the Treasure Bottle Continent, and the Tongye Continent, while the latter ran the east-west trade route between the Tongye Continent, the Southern Suo Po Continent, and the Soaring Flame Continent, each with its own specific task. As for the Dragon Boat “Spilled Ink” and the “Paulownia Shade,” a gift from the Wealth God Liu to the Azure Billow Sword Sect, they both remained within the Tongye Continent, both generating wealth and expanding the sect’s influence along the way.

As for the Great Li Sword Ship “Bing Ding,” it was currently docked at the Fish Scale Ferry.

Here in the Tongye Continent, people had only heard that such sword ships could cut down demons as easily as trimming flowers and weeds.

This sword ship had been “cried” for by Sect Master Cui, who was weak and alone in the ancestral hall of Gleaming Peak. It was considered a temporary loan to the lower branch.

Pitifully, Sect Master Cui felt increasingly unwelcome at Mount Fallen. His own teacher guarded against him as if he were a thief.

Cui Dongshan turned back to gaze at the city gate.

Blessings and misfortunes shared the same door, gains and losses coexisted in the same city. The joys and sorrows, like cicadas chirping in tall willows, the partings and reunions, like the flow of water beneath ice… How many flowers bloomed and fell in a single night in this mortal realm? The white-clad youth raised his eyes slightly, looking towards the city wall. He remembered that the old turtle, after finishing his official duties, would sometimes read miscellaneous books late into the night. Setting down his books, he would occasionally come to the outer city wall just before dawn, watching the various people waiting to enter and leave the city.

Arriving at the ferry, Cui Dongshan couldn’t help but feel a pang of sentimentality. Since becoming this hardworking and devoted transit Sect Master, he had become estranged from Mount Fallen.

Heaving a sigh all the way, he paced onto the ferry with his hands clasped behind his back. Cultivator Zhong had taken that group of sword immortal seedlings out for training, leaving only a few elders on board. Feng Xuetao, with the Daoist name Qingmi, was a frequent visitor here. Not long ago, he had accompanied Jiang Shangzhen to Mount Fallen, and even earlier, he had been dragged to the Wilderness by some bastard, only to be deemed a hindrance when war was about to break out, nothing more than an obstacle to drawing a sword. Back in the Central Earth Confucian Temple, he had been challenged by Zuo You and A Liang in the same day. Feng Xuetao himself was naturally ashamed and reluctant to mention this, but it had now become a much-talked-about achievement. With the lifting of restrictions on the gazettes of the Nine Continents, the name of Daoist Qingmi was growing in fame, almost comparable to the “Tender Daoist,” who had become famous overnight at the Mandarin Duck Shoal.

“Single-handedly, he took on two sword challenges in a row, and that old immortal Qingmi wasn’t injured at all, not even a scratch! Can you do that?”

Feng Xuetao, no matter how wild a cultivator he was, or how thick-skinned, couldn’t bring himself to say such a thing, as the credit belonged to a close friend’s promotion.

In the past, aside from the Central Earth Continent, the emergence of a new Jade Pure Realm cultivator within a single continent was no small matter, and could be discussed extensively for several years.

Like that Liu Laocheng of Shujian Lake, who became the first Jade Pure Realm cultivator in the Treasure Bottle Continent as a rogue cultivator, every gazette had to write extensively about him, or it would be considered disrespectful.

But now, when another nascent soul realm cultivator successfully ascended to the Upper Five Realms, the gazettes were so stingy with their ink that they didn’t even bother to mention it.

Cui Dongshan curled his lip and muttered to himself, “I wonder how many new Fourteenth Realms and Ascension Realms need to appear to fill those three enormous holes.”

Two native sword cultivators from the Great Wall of Sword Qi, Xing Yun and Liu Shui, were currently on board, setting up a table to entertain Feng Xuetao.

The old woman’s cooking was mediocre, and after being nagged at a few times by Xing Yun, she threw in the towel. As a result, Feng Xuetao, the guest, had to go into the kitchen to whip up a few of his signature dishes to go with the wine.

Most rogue cultivators were talented at everything and knew how to make a living.

Feng Xuetao was happy that someone didn’t treat him as an Ascension Realm cultivator.

Sword cultivators had high standards, especially the native sword cultivators from the Great Wall of Sword Qi. Moreover, Feng Xuetao was an Ascension Realm cultivator, so when they got together to chat, they mostly talked about figures at the peak.

In the vast world, a number of new Ascension Realm cultivators had already appeared, such as Wang Jia, Daoist name Void Sovereign, of the Soaring Flame Continent, and the cave master of Tianyu Cave in the Flowing Glow Continent.

Even mid-level Qi Refinement cultivators could guess, through various gazettes and rumors, that one or two new Fourteenth Realms had likely appeared in the world.

But who they were remained to be seen.

Cui Dongshan took a seat next to Xing Yun, putting an arm around the old sword cultivator’s shoulders.

Pei Qian silently sat down beside Liu Shui. The old woman smiled kindly, helping the young woman smooth the hair at her temples. This Pei girl was clearly a beautiful woman, but she just didn’t like to dress herself up.

Liu Shui continued the previous topic, “Listening to you guys chat, I get the feeling that a celestial realm like Mi Xiu Hua’s suddenly doesn’t seem so valuable anymore?”

Feng Xuetao shook his head and said, “In a hundred or a thousand years, a celestial realm sword cultivator will still be valuable wherever they go.”

Liu Shui casually asked, “What about ten thousand years from now?”
Feng Xuetao chuckled, “How could I think that far ahead?” Cui Dongshan grinned, “Indeed, such distant matters, who can say? Perhaps a mere mountain sprite of the fourth or fifth realm will become a great demon wreaking havoc across vast distances. A Qi cultivator who luckily enters the Cave Realm might be hailed as a legendary Earth Immortal, one who has transcended the Celestial Barrier, able to reside in the mortal world and whose existence is a fleeting glimpse of a dragon.”

Liu Shui raised his chin towards Feng Xuetao, “Earlier, when we discussed martial arts, Fellow Daoist Qingmi said that Cao Ci’s eminence in the martial way is like the towering height of mountains. Comparing him to Chen Ping’an, it’s like the vast expanse and endless flow of rivers.”

Xing Yun nodded, “Brother Feng’s implied meaning is that truly reaching the pinnacle of martial arts will depend on Cao Ci. Our Hidden Official, at most, benefits from also being a cultivator, seeking immortality.”

Feng Xuetao felt somewhat vexed. It was just casual chat with a little wine, why were they being so serious? He glanced at Pei Qian.

Cui Dongshan feigned astonishment, “So Senior Qingmi can actually use sophisticated language? Not just plain talk?”

Sensing Feng Xuetao’s gaze, Pei Qian cheerfully said, “Even Master isn’t confident he can defeat Cao Ci.” Cui Dongshan raised his bowl in a show of hearty drinking, but when he set it down, the level hadn’t decreased. He smacked his lips, “Lu Zhi might emerge from seclusion soon. A true seclusion without relying on external forces, allowing her to break through the bottleneck and ascend to the Ascension Realm in one fell swoop.”

Xing Yun asked, “Why did Lu Zhi go to the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect to follow Qi Tingji? Why didn’t she come to our side as a guest elder? I heard from Mi Yu that Lu Zhi and the Hidden Official had a good relationship back then.”

Cui Dongshan rubbed his chin, “Yes, yes, if Lu Zhi came to our Azure Lotus Sword Sect, Grand Sword Immortal Mi wouldn’t have to run around everywhere wearing that Chief Disciple title. How delightful!”

Cui Dongshan suddenly asked, “Brother Feng, do you have the confidence to take it one step further from where you stand? So that I can boast about my mountain-top connections when I’m out there, knowing a few Fourteenth Realm bigshots, fortunate enough to have shared a drink at the same table.”

Feng Xuetao felt helpless, “With my talent? I’m like useless timber, drawing a crowd of onlookers, only good for amusement.” Cui Dongshan sighed dramatically, “Senior Brother ascends to Earth Immortal, alas, both are inferior to others. Add Chief Zhou, and Grand Sword Immortal Mi who spends his days basking in the sun. If you brothers ever gather for a drink, you’ll probably end up hugging each other and weeping bitterly.” Jiang Shangzhen had indeed fallen from the Ascension Realm back to the Immortal Realm, and returning to the Ascension Realm would be incredibly difficult. Mi Yu, on the other hand, had begun to feel content after reaching the Immortal Realm. He had secretly compiled a cookbook in Fallen Star Mountain and spent his days with Grandmaster Zhong, busy ordering dishes. After a satisfying meal and belching, toothpick in mouth, they would leave the old chef’s residence and start planning what to eat for the next meal.

Feng Xuetao avoided responding to such words that seemed to dilute the wine with water.

Frankly, Feng Xuetao didn’t like chatting with Cui Dongshan. It was too mentally taxing, always feeling like his words had hidden meanings, and he was just an unperceptive blockhead.

Perhaps it was as Jiang Shangzhen had said, overly intelligent people, even if they remained silent, possessed an intrinsic sharpness without the need for ostentatious displays.

Chen Ping’an, appearing slightly travel-worn from his frequent walking due to lack of wind-riding, arrived at the ferry with Xie Gou.

Seeing the marten-hatted girl he had vaguely heard of, Liu Shui immediately stood up. Xing Yun hesitated for a moment, nodded to the young Hidden Official, and then left with the old woman.

Chen Ping’an said nothing about it. He didn’t need to force harmony in every person, place, and thing.

Xie Gou didn’t care at all. But if these two Jade Purities were still so distant when they met Xiao Mo in the future, he wouldn’t consider them as being on the same boat.

Pei Qian started to rise, but Chen Ping’an gestured with his hand, indicating she should sit and drink. She was a grown woman, familiar with the ways of the world, what was the harm in drinking a little wine?

After exchanging polite greetings with Feng Xuetao, Chen Ping’an curiously asked, “Did you say something to Mister Fan? Xie Gou said he was lingering at the corner of an alley for a long time, hesitant to leave.”

Cui Dongshan spoke vaguely, trying to avoid lying while not revealing the full truth, “I bet that Mister Fan could ascend to the Fourteenth Realm if he left the alley. It seems Mister Fan lacks confidence.”

Chen Ping’an smiled slightly, “Mister Fan lacks confidence, but Sect Master Cui has it?”

Cui Dongshan deliberately skipped the emotionally charged title and tentatively asked, “Why doesn’t Master ask the Sage of Rites for a definitive answer? Whether it succeeds or not, Mister Fan will definitely appreciate the sentiment.”

Chen Ping’an glared at him, did he really think the Sage of Rites, observing the trajectories of two great worlds from beyond the heavens, was as idle as he was?! Just then, an urgent voice echoed in Chen Ping’an’s mind, “Quickly go to the alley and meet the wealthy Mister Fan. Don’t say anything. This free favor, first earn a few thousand… We scholars don’t talk about money, it’s demeaning. They are simply friends who share similar interests.”

After all, it was Master speaking. Chen Ping’an didn’t dare hesitate and directly used the Shrinking Earth and Moving Mountains divine ability to go to the alley, to meet Mister Fan who was hesitating about taking that step.

Cui Dongshan muttered, “Master still leads by example, learning one more trick.”

Xie Gou quickly turned to look at Pei Qian, “Write it down, quickly record it in the ledger.”

Pei Qian smiled, “You and Senior Sister Guo are from the same mountain, I and Junior Brother are from the same group.”

Xie Gou chuckled, “No, no, nothing like that.”

Over at the alley, Mister Fan saw Chen Ping’an, who cupped his fist and smiled, as if congratulating him.

Mister Fan initially thought Chen Ping’an was there to apologize on behalf of Sect Master Cui, or to discuss a business deal.

But when he saw Chen Ping’an had no intention of speaking, he instantly understood. Mister Fan still steadied his Dao heart.

He didn’t speak, and Chen Ping’an remained silent as well. Mister Fan became increasingly certain of his guess, his mind racing, thinking seriously.

Chen Ping’an admired the merchant ancestor’s resilience and Dao heart.

Mister Fan looked up at the sky and slowly said, “If the Sage of Rites truly nods, assuming I can definitely ascend to the Fourteenth Realm, then it might be better to delay it, reserve it until the Vast Sky has won this war before I merge with the Dao.”

Upon hearing this, Chen Ping’an bowed and saluted.
Venerable Fan, his expression solemn, returned the bow. Beyond the celestial river, two old men craned their necks, awaiting every move from the human alleyway. Yu Xuan, with a thought-voice, asked, “Old Scholar, is it only after passing this trial of the heart that Venerable Fan can be considered truly to have fulfilled his merits? Will the Sage of Rites then truly nod in agreement to his future union with the Dao?”

The position of merchants among the myriad schools of thought, no matter how highly the Confucian Temple elevates them, if the Ancestor Master Fan’s realm is limited, the situation would be worlds apart from Venerable Fan one day joining the Dao.

In fact, within the Confucian Temple, not only the Sub-Sages and Fu Sheng, along with the seventy-two disciples, but even the Old Scholar himself, had always been against elevating the merchants’ position too much.

The Old Scholar stroked his beard and smiled, “Good.”

Yu Xuan inquired, “You didn’t remind Chen Daoyou of anything beforehand, or give Venerable Fan any secret hints, did you?”

The Old Scholar glared, “Old Yu, what nonsense are you spouting! Who do you take the Sage of Rites for? If there were any such shady dealings, would he not see through them?!”

Yu Xuan felt wronged, “Why the anger? I’m just afraid you’d overdo it, only to implicate Chen Daoyou and create a bad impression with the Sage of Rites, being mistaken for a profit-seeking scoundrel.”

Saying this, the Old Real Man couldn’t help but glance at the Old Scholar, suspecting him of putting on a brave face, an unnecessary denial.

The Old Scholar smiled, patting Yu Xuan’s shoulder, his meaning beyond words.

Actually, the two had a common relationship before, one was afraid of being poor, and the other had never worried about money in his life, how to chat? Could it be discussed to even out the wealth?

Now it is different, the relationship between the two is very good.

The two quickly got up, realizing that the Sage of Rites himself had arrived. The Sage of Rites said, “Someone once gave me a rather utilitarian suggestion: either the Confucian Temple should generously elevate the merchants’ position, but suppress the realms of the merchants’ ancestor masters to the Immortal Realm, with even the Ascension Realm being a luxury; or the Confucian Temple should create a path of joining the Dao solely for Venerable Fan, but leave the merchants forever at the bottom among the myriad schools of thought.”

Yu Xuan said, “That’s ruthless.”

Although the Old Real Man guessed that the suggestion was to prevent the future Great Dao and the path to wealth in the mortal world from overlapping too closely.

But putting oneself in their shoes, if they were Venerable Fan or a merchant disciple, they would probably have their Dao hearts collapse one by one if they ever learned the truth.

The Old Scholar only listened, saying neither good nor bad, right nor wrong.

The Sage of Rites asked, “What do you think Chen Ping’an was thinking deep down when he stood at the alley entrance?”

Yu Xuan’s expression changed slightly, “I dare not imagine.”

Would the junior apprentice brother follow Cui’s footsteps closely, or would he go against the grain?

The Old Scholar said indifferently, “No need to imagine.”

Central Earth Continent, a grotto-heaven secret realm not recorded in historical texts.

A massive bronze ancient mirror, covering an area of a hundred zhang in radius.

On the mirror surface rested twenty chairs, like an ancestral hall that didn’t need golden jade registers.

Cultivators quietly entered the secret realm, lighting nine incense sticks.

Those attending the meeting didn’t need to be physically present, nor even send a mote of their mind.

Throughout history, the meetings were never fully attended. Sometimes fourteen or fifteen people, sometimes only five or six.

According to the earliest established rules, one incense stick meant attend if available, ignore if busy.

Three incense sticks meant try to attend, but if you miss three such meetings in a row, you would be automatically stripped of your status and lose the right to attend. Nine incense sticks meant mandatory attendance, unless you were in a life-or-death closed-door cultivation, or facing some urgent situation involving the very foundation of the Great Dao, or if there was an Ascension Realm cultivator standing beside you who could easily detect any clues. But if anyone missed two such meetings in a row, they would bear the consequences. Because they would be regarded as a common enemy of the Great Dao by the remaining nineteen people.

In the last three hundred years, there had been very few opportunities to light nine incense sticks.

From recent to distant events, the Sword Qi Great Wall was breached by the Savage Desolate demon race, Qi Jingchun protected the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven, and the thirteen-way battle between the Sword Qi Great Wall and the Savage Desolate World, and so on.

And the two chairs in the most forward positions were almost always empty, never seen.

Even when they rarely appeared, they rarely spoke, and as for whether they had ever spoken to anyone through thought-voice, who knew.

The members who came to the meeting were either shrouded in a cloud of mist, concealing their entire forms, or using illusions and disguises, after all, no one wanted to reveal their true selves openly.

The most unusual thing today was the appearance of two central main seats, opposite each other.

Those who came to the meeting had no distinction of status or rank, only cooperation, mutual benefit, and no forced transactions.

Of course, if someone’s identity and realm were guessed, the specific details of how to haggle in private were another matter.

In less than the time it took to burn one incense stick, most of the cultivators had arrived at this “ancestral hall,” each taking a seat on the chairs.

In total, twenty-two chairs, including the four newest and oldest chairs with the most special positions, were still vacant. Before the meeting had officially begun, a female cultivator laughingly inquired, “Si Tu Mengjing initially refused to become the Sect Master even when it was offered to him, so why would he be willing to go down the mountain to become a Mountain Master? When he hangs up portraits and offers incense to the juniors in the Little Dragon Pool Ancestral Hall, wouldn’t the scene be very interesting?”

Si Tu Mengjing, whose Daoist name was Dragon Beard, was the current Mountain Master of Little Dragon Pool.

This was like a Minister of the Ministry of Rites running to a local area to be a regional inspector, a typical overqualified appointment.

Several cultivators exchanged playful glances, looking at the Immortal who was presiding over the ceremony, the surface host of this strange ancestral hall. The Immortal ignored them, sitting upright in his chair, closing his eyes to rest for a moment, before changing the subject, “It has been roughly confirmed that Han Yushu did not encounter an accident. Not long ago, he was summoned to the Heavenly Eye Academy by Wen Yu. The Myriad Jade Sect received a ‘invitation’ from the academy with stern wording.” Soon, someone gloated, “Wen Yu is no simple character. He and a few other young gentlemen, including Gao Xuandu of the Laiyuan Academy, are all key cultivation targets of the Confucian Temple. In the future, they will all start as headmasters, and become masters and libationers of the academy. Han Yushu won’t confess everything there, will he? Maybe in a few days, the Heavenly Eye Academy will spread the news that Han Yushu has been taken to the Central Earth Merit Forest for tea.”

Someone also spoke fairly for Sect Master Han, “Wen Yu also seems to be a sword cultivator, and his flying sword divine ability is extraordinary. Han Yushu may not be able to escape.”
“Excusable perhaps, but established rules cannot be altered. Another transgression, and he will be barred from these councils. Confinement within the Gongde Forest might be preferable, at least it spares him death.”

Unlike the four chairs that remained perpetually vacant, the assembled individuals, already present, regarded the empty seats of those “familiar faces” with varied emotions.

These positions, even if occupied in the future, would be filled by different individuals.

For instance, the Minister of Punishments, Hao Su, had already journeyed to the Azure Vault, now residing within the Divine Firmament City of the White Jade Capital.

Moreover, Hao Su had voluntarily relinquished his seat, with his personal disciple, Du Shanyin, stepping in to fill the void. A previous council session had deliberated on this matter and ultimately approved it.

Thus, Hao Su’s former seat was now occupied by Du Shanyin.

He was a young sword cultivator hailing from the Great Wall of Swords, named Du Shanyin.

Attending a council for the first time, Du Shanyin displayed no timidity, lazily reclining against the back of his chair.

He both desired and dreaded the appearance of that young Hidden Officer.

A cultivator, aware of the newcomer’s true identity but refraining from uttering his name, inquired, “I desire that handmaiden, Ji Qing, who attends you. Name your price, no matter how exorbitant, do not fear startling me.”

Du Shanyin replied, “Guarantee my ascension within a century, and I shall gift Ji Qing to you today.”

The man scoffed, “I am but a Celestial Immortal at present; your demand is somewhat unreasonable. A compromise, ensuring your attainment of Sword Immortalhood, is far more plausible.”

A Celestial Immortal imparting the art of ascension?

A youthful pipe dream, indeed.

This Du Shanyin, truly worthy of being Hao Su’s sole heir, possesses the backing of a powerful master, allowing him to speak with such fortitude.

Within the Great Wall of Swords prison, the maiden Ji Qing was inseparable from Changming. The former was the manifestation of the Golden Essence Copper Coin, while Ji Qing was the embodied ancestor coin of the Valley Rain coinage.

Du Shanyin proactively inquired, “The incarnation of that ‘Ancestral Spring,’ where is it currently concealed? Does anyone possess concrete information?”

The first coin of humankind, revered as the “Ancestral Spring.”

Over millennia, it had surfaced sparingly, with fleeting glimpses in the Azure Vault and the Western Buddhist Kingdom. Its last exposure occurred before the Dragon-Slaying Campaign, when a grand cultivator discovered its hiding place within the Dragon Palace’s Sutra Repository.

Du Shanyin had pledged to his master that the day his swordsmanship reached its apex and he achieved ascension would be the day the Flower Thieves of the Mountain met their end.

Apparently, his master had received assistance from the Hundred Flower Paradise during a past ordeal, incurring a debt of immense magnitude.

With Hao Su’s departure to the Azure Vault, this debt naturally fell upon Du Shanyin’s shoulders.

Due to his limited seniority, no one was inclined to engage with the young sword cultivator.

Du Shanyin, unperturbed by the snub, maintained his composure, patiently listening to news rarely found in the gazettes.

“The one from the Five-Colored Realm, shortly after arriving in the Great Balance, made a journey to the Netherworld of Fengdu. Her swordsmanship is exceedingly fierce.”

Naturally, they dared not address Ning Yao by her name directly.

“It can be definitively confirmed that the Wealth God Liu of the Snowy Continent has ascended to the Fourteenth Realm.”

“That Old Perfected Person of the Northern Entirety Continent has successfully merged with the Dao.”

“Regarding the Snowy Continent, besides Wealth God Liu’s successful Dao merging within his ancestral shrine, was there not another new Fourteenth Realm at roughly the same time? Was it someone named Wei?”

“The activity around Quanjiao Mountain in the Floating Ripple Continent is significant, I hear numerous extraordinary individuals have emerged.”

“The foundations of that mountain peak on the Treasure Bottle Continent grow increasingly unfathomable. Haha, I wonder how that old crone, residing next door, feels about it.”

“Heh, she has a capable senior brother, so I doubt she cares about such trivial matters.”

“Such fortunate circumstances, relying on a senior brother for success, are unparalleled across several realms. Perhaps that flamboyant Liu fellow can compare? He might be able to contend with her.”

Generally, discourse within this place, besides refraining from directly addressing Fourteenth Realm grand cultivators by name, was unrestricted. However, upon hearing someone disparage Liu Chicheng, others hastily cleared their throats.

There was no way around it. They dared not mention Zheng Juzhong’s name, let alone bring up White Emperor City, they had to carefully consider even alluding to it, and this was before Zheng Juzhong reached the Fourteenth Realm.

Avoiding discussing individuals or matters connected to White Emperor City seemed to be a tacit rule here.

While they engaged in casual conversation, more cultivators gradually arrived and took their seats.

Tian Wan, typically eager to attend these councils, always arriving early, was unusually late today. She seemed to have employed some secret art. This proud and haughty woman displayed a rare hint of apology, explaining her tardiness to the others, “I was previously ensnared by the schemes of Cui Dongshan and Jiang Shangzhen, especially the former, with his meticulous mind and malicious heart, periodically scrutinizing my divine soul and memories. I had to exercise caution.”

The woman, adorned with red thread on her wrist, gazed towards a vacant position opposite her, sighing, “Old Xun, what a pity.”

“Speaking of senior brothers, is someone not even more extravagant?”

“Not only senior brother, but also master, Dao companion, and personal fortune, what does this person lack?”

“Blessed with all fortunes and abundant romance, we cannot envy him.”

A woman who had been listening to their idle chatter with her cheek resting on her hand smiled, “A reminder, when discussing the new Hidden Officer, be courteous.”

Someone scoffed, “How strange, are you not of the opposing faction?”

Indeed, the Hidden Officer lineage of sword cultivators was divided into predecessors and successors. The two masters of the Summer Palace, first Xiao, a native sword cultivator who chose to betray the Great Wall of Swords, followed by Chen Ping’an, an outsider to the Great Wall of Swords.

She smiled, “I am merely issuing a reminder. Whether you heed it is your own affair.”

A Celestial Immortal of the Central Earth, of moderate rank, was experiencing an internal struggle, contemplating whether to inform that Mister Zheng… no, that Mountain Lord Chen.

After much deliberation, he questioned the necessity of such an action. Considering “their” intellect, they could likely come and go as they pleased. Just then, the host of the council, a Celestial Immortal, stood up and declared in a grave tone, “Today’s council differs from the past. Firstly, the masters of the four chairs facing each other will appear. Secondly, we will all reveal our true appearances today. Those unwilling to face others in this manner may leave now.”

Despite their individual thoughts and considerations, not a single person chose to rise and depart from the gathering.
Someone hesitated, posing a critical question that seemed to have eluded deep inquiry: “What was the original purpose in creating this place?”

Across from the four vacant chairs, two figures had materialized, one a diminutive Daoist whose body radiated boundless Daoist energy. He clutched a miniature banner, having traversed the world to arrive.

The Daoist spoke in a raspy voice, “I never imagined old friends would have dwindled to such an extent. Even a few words of reminiscing have become a luxury.” The other figure was a shock to everyone, none other than Wei She, the master of the seventy-two peaks of the Snowy Continent. He, who had rarely ventured out in three thousand years, now stood beside a chair, not rushing to sit. Instead, he gently rested a hand on the chair’s back, smiling faintly.

“I asked this question in my younger days as well. It seems to stem from that work by Headmaster Lu, comprising two parts, ‘The Equality of Things’ and ‘The Box’. So, the answer is: inner equality, outer box.”

The crowd began to carefully ponder the profound meaning within these words. Meanwhile, a certain Daoist, who had been jovially engaging in small talk with the gatekeeper, was suddenly struck dumb. Finally regaining his senses, the young Daoist with the lotus crown began to beat his chest and stamp his feet, lamenting with profound grief, “Fellow Daoists, you must not frame me! Whether you believe me or not, I have never written any ‘Equality of Things’ or ‘The Box’! This is a frame-up, a slander against an innocent, a plot to harm the virtuous! I have masters and elder brothers to rely on!

“Taking a step back, we are even fellow countrymen! We should meet on the road with tears in our eyes! How can you treat me like this…?”

Lu Chen abruptly stopped speaking, noticing that the gatekeeper had, for the first time, revealed a pensive expression, gazing distantly toward a hidden vortex in the river of time.

Over there, Zheng Juzhong had found a Fourteenth Realm cultivator whose existence was difficult to place in the present or the future, and smiled, “Your patience is truly admirable. Unless face-to-face, there is no way Chen Pingan could have guessed it was you.”

“Ma Kuxuan indeed presented Chen Pingan with a good riddle in this matter.” “After all, it’s because of those few dozen taels of silver that he never received back then, that this matter, strictly speaking, has no direct connection to Chen Pingan, nor does it have a direct connection to you. You two antagonists never actually said a word to each other.”