The young Daoist sat on a small bamboo chair, with a dilapidated mountain behind him – truly, he had a backing! The Immortal Constable dipped his fingertip in his saliva and turned a page of his book. Unknowingly, the snow-white paper and jet-black characters were tinged with a faint blush. The Daoist looked up, realizing the sun had already set beyond the western mountains, and the fiery clouds still lingered reluctantly, unwilling to leave the mortal realm.

*With books in my sleeves, I am truly wealthy; Today, with nothing to do, I am a minor celestial.*

*I use the long river of time as my Daoist arena, I and the days are like fish, leisurely passing by.*

Having completed his patrol, he had practically escorted the busy sun home for the day. Little Rice Grain arrived at the foot of the mountain, tugged at the strap of his cross-body satchel, and tentatively asked, “Immortal Constable Daoist?”

The Daoist Immortal Constable understood instantly, nodding and smiling, “Almost done for the day. Since I have some leisure, let’s ‘crack’.”

This was a unique riddle between him and Little Rice Grain. Chatting was “cracking”, and cracking sunflower seeds was “cracking”.

Fallen Peak was no ordinary mountain, and welcoming and seeing off guests wasn’t particularly frequent. Even when guests did arrive, they were far from ordinary. When it was quiet, it was truly quiet; when it was busy… well, he wasn’t busy. The Mountain Lord, with a generous hand, directly allocated Fragrant Fire Mountain to the Immortal Constable and his newly accepted disciple, as a “founding mountain” Daoist temple. Recently, Daoist Immortal Constable and Lin Feijing had been shouldering hoes and carrying baskets, with machetes at their waists, busily working to build bridges and pave roads, gradually constructing pavilions and erecting thatched huts… Simple though it was, without the need for much extravagance, it was, after all, adding bricks and tiles to “their own home,” and seeing it come together filled them with joy. Immortal Constable hadn’t requested a single tael of silver from Wei Wenlong, the accountant of Azure Peak Spring Residence. His salary as a gatekeeper was more than sufficient, not to mention the Chief always showed his appreciation whenever he climbed the mountain. A man’s wealth gave him confidence, and this poor Daoist was no longer poor; he knew he was a wealthy man!

Warm Tree brought word, saying it was the Mountain Lord’s intention that Immortal Constable Daoist could spend more time at Fragrant Fire Mountain recently. The important matter was paramount. As for the mountain gate, it was fine even without supervision. Immortal Constable, who was most adept at being impolite with polite people, immediately and humbly accepted the Mountain Lord’s suggestion. On Fragrant Fire Mountain, during breaks from their labor with his unworthy disciple, they would rest, chewing on salted vegetables with dry rations, the sound of babbling streams in their ears. He and his disciple would share a pot of glutinous rice wine amongst the mountain flowers, and as they surveyed their surroundings, they felt every day was a good season filled with new promise. No one on Fallen Peak disliked Little Rice Grain, but if one were to seriously determine who chatted with Little Rice Grain the most, it would undoubtedly be the gatekeeping Immortal Constable Daoist, bar none. Even Warm Tree and Chen Lingjun couldn’t compare.

Immortal Constable genuinely enjoyed chatting with Little Rice Grain, always finding it interesting and never showing any sign of boredom.

Even Chen Lingjun and Bai Xuan admired him. It was a pity Immortal Constable didn’t open a school to teach children.

Little Rice Grain would also collect the sparks of inspiration he had during his patrols, saving them up, and then sharing them with Immortal Constable Daoist at the mountain gate.

Occasionally, a few would slip away, but he would usually pick them up on his next patrol.

The two, one big and one small, exchanged words like stepping on a watermelon rind, chatting idly. One had no worries, the other had no concerns, and chatting about anything made their brows relax, filled with leisure. Immortal Constable, with the posture of a farmer, tucked his hands into his sleeves, palms overlapping within, said, “Our worries often come from yesterday, and our concerns are often about how tomorrow will be. Even if there were a method for immortality, how would it solve the things that have already happened yesterday, or the things that have yet to happen tomorrow? The Buddhists say to remove the heart, not the matter, but we mortals always find it easier said than done. How can we truly make things follow our hearts?”

Little Rice Grain shook his head, solemnly saying, “Immortal Constable Daoist, you are a transcendent being practicing profound Daoist arts in the mountains!”

The young Daoist comfortably leaned back against the small bamboo chair, smiling, “Perhaps Little Rice Grain has some brilliant advice to offer?”

Little Rice Grain chuckled, “Then you’ve come to the right person!”

If you were to ask me how to cultivate immortal magic, I’m sorry, the great water monster of Dumb Lake only knows how to wander the world. But if you want to know how to fight unhappiness, well, I do have some experience! The little black-clad girl cupped her cheeks with her hands, blinked her eyes, and painted a scene, tall mountains, winding waters, plump white clouds, a big-bellied blue sky… The truly heartfelt words didn’t need preparation, “Yesterday’s worries and unhappiness are as small as grains of rice, just a tiny bit big. Put them in today’s happy bowl, eat them up, fill the gaps in your teeth, and then put the bowl on tomorrow’s big table.”

The young Daoist clapped his hands gently, praising, “Indeed, indeed, we should not use our limited bodies to bear the world’s endless sorrows.”

Little Rice Grain then offered a handful of sunflower seeds. Immortal Constable accepted them, smiling, “I also have a bowl, but I didn’t bring it with me; it’s left at my ancestral home.”

*With wine in hand, great events are like mustard seeds; cracking sunflower seeds, small matters are like the vast heavens.*

Little Rice Grain rubbed his cheeks, hesitating to speak.

Immortal Constable laughed heartily, “This humble Daoist didn’t spring from a stone, of course I have a hometown, an ancestral home.” Little Rice Grain cracked sunflower seeds, and whispered, “Sister Pei said that before you made your name, when you were a dragon stranded in shallow waters, you were captured by bandits to be their accountant. Sister Pei also said that the burly female chieftain, so strong and powerful, coveted your… beauty, and wanted to take you as her bandit groom. Sister Pei also said that you stubbornly refused, using many schemes, pretending to be a scholar on his way to the capital to take the imperial examinations, promising to return with a grand sedan chair to marry her properly after achieving success. Only then did the female chieftain let you go. Upon parting, you splashed ink and left a calligraphy piece for the stronghold, the words ‘Heaven Rewards Diligence’. The bandits cheered loudly, shaking the heavens, and the chieftain saw you off the mountain, her face streaked with tears. Is that true? The story is full of twists and turns, so exciting!”

Immortal Constable blushed, feeling a headache coming on, “Embarrassing stories, embarrassing stories.”

Some of it was embellished by Little Black Coal back then, while some of it was true, such as the chieftain’s heroic spirit and beautiful appearance. As for oaths of eternal love, naturally, there were none.

A small town saying described something as meaningless by saying it “had no central hall.” The main hall of a wealthy family would always have a plaque hanging in it.
A bandit’s lair, clinging to a precarious existence, with a motto like “Heaven Rewards the Diligent” hanging above their heads… Doesn’t the Celestial Warden, Daoist Xianwei, spare a thought for the feelings of the nearby common folk, the merchants passing through?

Xianwei recalled some past events and softly said, “Calling it a bandit’s den… in truth, they were just people forced onto the mountain by the vagaries of fate, merely seeking a way to survive. They waylaid travelers for coin, aye, but they never took lives. And after taking the money, they even wrote out IOUs! In all my years wandering the lands, that’s one of a kind. The ones the stronghold robbed the most were those officials resigning their posts and returning home, their purses heavy with ill-gotten gains. Hmph, they’d hire a hundred or so men, a grand procession. Can you imagine? Those officials, upon leaving their office, they’d strip everything, not just the chairs and tables in the yamen, but even the windows, hauling them all back home! I remember the stronghold was always trying to save up money, so that once the debts were repaid, they could establish a proper martial arts sect, to make a living running a security escort service. Every time they drank, when they talked about this, men and women, young and old, their eyes would gleam with hope.”

Little Millet rested her chin in her hands, listening with rapt attention, eagerly absorbing Daoist Xianwei’s detailed recounting of the past.

He glanced at the light in the sky, and then, Xianwei lifted his sleeve, gave it a gentle flick, closed his eyes, and began to calculate with his fingers.

Setting up a stall for fortune-telling, being able to divine and calculate, speaking with unerring accuracy, this was an essential skill for wandering Daoists traversing the world.

Little Millet asked with curiosity, “Celestial Warden, what are you doing?”

Xianwei slowly opened his eyes, and with a serious face, said, “Calculating, to see if there’s stir-fried green peppers with ham on the dinner table today.”

Little Millet rolled her eyes.

Xianwei patted his stomach and laughed heartily, “Food is the first necessity of the people, so we can’t mistreat ourselves.”

Little Millet suddenly said, “Calculate again, if there will be braised bamboo shoots.”

Xianwei asked, “If Right Protector dares to order dishes, wouldn’t the old chef be rushing about with his twelve-fold strength?”

Little Millet explained, “Zhong Yi has no sense of propriety. He orders dishes for every meal, three meals a day plus midnight snacks, he has already annoyed the old chef. I won’t add fuel to the fire.”

Besides, the old chef secretly sent her and Sister Nuan Shu various pastries every now and then, so many that she almost couldn’t remember their names.

Xianwei nodded vigorously, actually feeling incredibly grateful to that toothpick-chewing Great Master Zhong Qian, if not for his courageous actions, Xianwei and Zheng Dafeng wouldn’t be able to enjoy small banquets at every meal.

On the mountain path, a young man with a face like jade slowly approached. Xianwei was no longer surprised, but he couldn’t be impolite. He stood up together with Little Millet.

Reaching the mountain gate, the young man pointed to a mountain peak very close to Fallen Star Mountain, announced his name, and smiled, “A near neighbor is better than a distant relative. I come from Celestial Capital Peak. My surname is Lu, given name is Shen, Daoist name is ‘Sky’s Edge’.”

Xianwei gave a Daoist bow, “A pleasure to meet you, a pleasure to meet you. This poor Daoist is Xuanxu, and I am the gatekeeper of Fallen Star Mountain. Greetings, Daoist Lu.”

“Sky’s Edge,” eh? His Daoist name wasn’t bad either, Xuanxu… Let’s see whose Daoist name has more grandeur.

Little Millet was curious, why the ever-diligent record keeper hadn’t shown up.

Lu Shen subtly shifted his stance, his expression normal, “Celestial Warden Xuanxu and Fallen Star Mountain, a perfect match. A mountain is not high, but a spirit makes it divine. A mountain is not large, but Dao makes it manifest.”

Xianwei was momentarily speechless. Such excessive praise was a bit much. According to Zheng Dafeng, it was all about controlling the heat, paying attention to the heat.

Lu Shen got straight to the point, “Today’s visit to Fallen Star Mountain is to inform you of one matter. I hope the Daoist priest can convey it to Mountain Lord Chen as soon as possible. Ma Kuxuan of Apricot Blossom Lane has one direct disciple, being both his first and last. This person is one of the local townspeople. As for the other disciples taken from outside, they are all Ma Kuxuan’s smokescreen. As for this person’s name, it is truly impossible to say more.”

Xianwei listened in confusion, but still nodded in agreement.

Wei Bo followed closely behind Lu Shen and arrived at the mountain gate.

Lu Shen said, “Greetings, Divine Lord Wei.”

Wei Bo’s expression was displeased, “I dare not accept such a title.”

Lu Shen said in a voice transmission, “A few years ago, State Preceptor Cui came to Celestial Capital Peak and had a frank and open discussion with me.”

Wei Bo frowned slightly.

With Lu Shen’s cultivation and methods, if he wanted to hide something, the Great Li Dynasty wouldn’t be able to find any clues, even if they wanted to investigate.

Of course, the prerequisite was that Lu Shen’s intercontinental travels and settling in Great Li had the permission or tacit agreement of State Preceptor Cui.

Celestial Capital Peak was located between Fallen Star Mountain and the small town, making it closer to Fallen Star Mountain than Leaping Fish Mountain or Soaring Deer Ridge. Therefore, it wasn’t just any ordinary close neighbor, but more like next-door neighbors.

On the surface, the Great Li Dynasty’s records for the immensely symbolic Celestial Capital Peak, the “landlord,” was a Immortal family sect with foundations similar to the Yellow Millet Sect. Over the years, the perpetually mist-shrouded Celestial Capital Peak had only a dozen or so mountain cultivators who lived in seclusion, rarely venturing out, even more like a secluded mountain than Fallen Star Mountain. When the cultivators did descend the mountain, it was a young cultivator who hadn’t even reached the Fifth Realm going to the prefecture city to regularly purchase firewood, rice, oil, and salt. Celestial Capital Peak and Fallen Star Mountain had never had any contact; they didn’t even recognize each other’s faces.

The main peak of Celestial Capital Peak was a bit shorter than the Spirit Gathering Peak of Fallen Star Mountain’s main peak, so it didn’t obstruct the view, and Chen Lingjun and the others could see the entire town from their own mountaintop. The identities of the three neighboring mountain lords were naturally recorded in the Great Li Dynasty’s secret files. Wei Bo, as the Five Sacred Mountains’ Rightful God, could of course freely access them. However, over the years, Chen Ping’an had no intention of investigating. If he didn’t ask, Wei Bo never proactively mentioned the matter. Later, Soaring Deer Ridge was secretly bought by Pei Qian with her own money, and Leaping Fish Mountain was the private property of Gan Yi of the Everlasting Spring Palace, which was also taken over by Cui Dongshan. Xie Gou had taken a fancy to Celestial Capital Peak and wanted to buy it as a dowry. Unfortunately, when she mentioned this to Wei Bo, Wei Bo only said that it couldn’t be bought with money, you’d have to wait until your Mountain Lord became the Great Li State Preceptor.

Xie Gou wasn’t a Mountain Lord. She had already confirmed that Celestial Capital Peak indeed didn’t have a Earthly Immortal, nor did it have a cultivator of the Upper Fifth Realm practicing there. Otherwise, she would have known from the slightest bit of breathing and qi refinement.

If there was an old-fashioned Ascended Realm cultivator hiding in the mountain who was extremely skilled at concealing the secrets of Heaven, so be it, just don’t touch him. When Lu Shen chose to actively appear, Wei Bo’s feelings of frustration and annoyance were rooted in this. According to Wei Bo’s exclusive information channels, Celestial Capital Peak indeed had a “real landlord” hiding behind the scenes, but Wei Bo never imagined that this person and family were still the chess pieces that Lu Shen had pushed to the front. Therefore, Wei Bo felt that his own silence had misled the ever-cautious Chen Ping’an.

Damn it, this Celestial Capital Peak was right under his nose. Wei Bo shuddered with fear at the thought of such a big mistake.
The patriarch of the Lu clan in the Central Plains, Lu Shen, possessed cultivation as high as the heavens. Others revered and feared him, but Wei Bo couldn’t give a fig!

Wei Bo was exceedingly displeased, and Lu Shen was equally vexed. The appearance of that sable-hatted girl was a monumental headache. Whether she was bored or possessed extraordinary divine abilities, she would occasionally send out a wisp of her divine consciousness, without rhyme or reason, to secretly inspect Celestial Capital Peak day and night. Her underhanded actions were truly inconsiderate, leaving Lu Shen with no choice but to remain vigilant at all times. He had to create three miniature worlds and add dozens of secret technique restrictions to conceal his own aura. The expenditure of spiritual energy and a bit of immortal money was not a big deal, but it was extremely disruptive, tying Lu Shen’s hands. Later, Chen Ping An and that sable-hatted girl, returning to the mortal realm from beyond the heavens and arriving at the Lu clan residence in the Central Plains as “uninvited guests,” Lu Shen, who appeared as a young man at the time, was exceedingly familiar with that Xie dog, or rather, Bai Jing from the savage wilderness. Not only was his swordsmanship astonishing, but he was also skilled in numerous Taoist arts. Even Lu Shen, who considered his own cultivation aptitude to be not bad, almost suspected that Bai Jing was an existence akin to Ruan Xiu or Li Liu.

Lu Shen raised his head, gazing at the mountain gate archway, and muttered to himself, “The enemy of my enemy may not be a friend, but at least there’s a chance of becoming allies.”

“Zou Zi is my mortal enemy on the Great Dao. He is forever unable to rise above, enduring extreme suffering.”

“Since our goals align, he has his dragon-slaying techniques, and I have my own dragon-raising methods. Let each of us display our divine powers and compete against each other.”

The path of cultivation is like sailing against the current. A Taoist’s heart must never waver, and a Taoist’s spirit must never falter.

Little Rice Grain had already sensed that the atmosphere was off. She rarely saw Mountain Ruler Wei so angry, so she sat properly on her small bamboo chair, her eyes lowered, her mind wandering to the old cook’s kitchen.

Immortal Guard also sat up straight, but with the corner of his eye, he sized up the young man with the grand-sounding Taoist name. Judging by his attire, he didn’t seem wealthy, but since he could warrant Lord Wei’s personal welcome, his identity must be alarmingly impressive.

Wei Bo was too lazy to beat around the bush with Lu Shen, coldly saying, “May I ask Patriarch Lu, when did you arrive at Celestial Capital Peak and personally plot your grand scheme?”

A country has its laws, a family has its rules, and a village has its customs. It is the duty of high-ranking mountain and water deities within their jurisdiction to help the orthodox court monitor the movements of cultivators and immortal abodes. Lu Shen calmly said, “The customs below the mountain consider the Winter Solstice as important as the New Year. I arrived in Huaihuang County on that day. After some cursory geomancy, I chose Celestial Capital Peak as a temporary Taoist temple. On the second day of the first month of the new year, I saw Chen Mountain Master’s face for the first time in the mountains.” In those years, the mountains to the west were undergoing large-scale construction, opening up cave dwellings and building residences, adding immortal energy to the Taoist temples. Because Falling Phoenix Mountain had a mountain god temple officially recognized by the imperial court, the Dali Ministry of Works determined the specifications according to mountain and water etiquette. Not a single copper coin was spared. The young mountain master had it easy, not needing to spend his own money on things like road construction. As for putting on a brave face, it had to be shown to someone. At that time, Chen Ping An only had Chen Lingjun and Nuan Shu with him. A large mountain, just the three of them, at most plus a mountain god without assistants or maids.

On this day, according to local custom, people should have started visiting relatives and friends for New Year’s greetings. Chen Ping An naturally had no relatives to visit, so he simply took the green-clad boy and the pink-skirted girl into the mountains.

Lu Shen couldn’t help but look complicated, slowly saying, “The straw-sandaled youth who loved the Great Dao like water, gazing at the clouds and yearning for home, carrying water and fire, with a firewood knife at his waist, climbed the great mountain, reached its peak, and saw the light of day.”

At Earth Lung Mountain, Mao Zhui seemed to be imparting knowledge and teaching skills to the sword immortal, Nan Qiang. Old Celestial Master Yin Xian on the side was exceptionally gratified.

“Taoism emphasizes the natural unfolding of one’s nature, the naturalness of the Tao. That’s why you were able to steadily and easily ascend to become an immortal. That is your ability.”

Whether mortals can cultivate depends on whether they have a “source.” Entering the mountains and starting to refine qi and preserve the spirit, whether they can ultimately prove the Dao depends on whether they can find a “destination.”

“High mountains stand tall, rivers flow. Both are like a person expressing their feelings, but can even the highest mountain pierce the sky? No matter how vast a polluted river is, its destination is still the sea.” “You are studying swordsmanship, devoting your life to pursuing the origin of the Sword Dao. So in Earth Lung Mountain cultivation, it is difficult to find like-minded people, inevitably there will be a ‘my way is lonely’ feeling. Over time, the higher the realm, the easier it is to be proud. Of course, you also have your difficulties, serving as the abbot of Great Wood Temple, leading more than a hundred sword cultivators, requiring you to bear the honor and disgrace, the rise and fall of the Hua Yang Palace sword immortal lineage. With this expedient method, used to unite people’s hearts, there is no problem.”

Nan Qiang smiled and said, “More than a hundred?”

This was clearly her starting to nitpick. Palace Master Mao had just taken over Hua Yang Palace and was bound to be busy with official duties, not familiar with the specific situation of Great Wood Temple, a branch of the Taoist lineage. It was reasonable.

Even if Mao Zhui had recommended her to be the master of Earth Lung Mountain, logically speaking, Nan Qiang should be grateful, but when interacting with him, she always had an inexplicable awkward feeling.

When a cultivator with keen spiritual sense has this intuition, it must not be taken lightly. Sleeping places should be small, making it easy to nourish the spirit. Studies should be large, allowing one to gather qi. So the library was extremely tall and occupied a vast area, while Mao Zhui’s residence was extremely small, just a small courtyard near the gate. Inside the house was actually a white gauze mosquito net common in the homes of ordinary people down the mountain.

Not to mention the accomplished Taoists in the mountains, even those Jianghu martial artists who had mastered their skills could use an invisible true qi to drive away mosquitoes and flies, and deter wild beasts.

It was fortunate that no one visited the “humble abode,” otherwise Nan Qiang would have suspected that this White Bone Real Person, who was clearly already at the peak of the Ascension Realm, was living such a simple and mundane life, putting on a show for whom?

Mao Zhui calmly said, “Great Wood Temple teaching officer, the ancestral hall has a total of six generations of genealogy, a total of one hundred and five people. You have been in seclusion recently, I only know more about the current cultivation bottlenecks of all of them than you do.”

Nan Qiang asked, “It seems that Gao Qiong is also going into seclusion, has Taoist White Bone seen her?”
That little girl was brought back from the High Ancestor’s hometown some years ago. Her aptitude isn’t particularly outstanding, but since the Palace Master personally brought her up the mountain, both South Wall and Great Wood Temple naturally paid close attention. Mao Zhui said, “According to the secret manual that Azure Mist Palace additionally imparted to Gao Qiong, if she cultivates step by step, it will definitely lead to problems when she closes up to break through. She won’t be able to pass the Dragon Gate, and it’s very likely that she will even regress in her cultivation. I have secretly entrusted someone to teach her two sword techniques, one specializing in splitting water, and the other in refining mirage swords. When she cultivates to the point of perfect understanding, the Daoist incantation will be able to manifest the Dragon Gate of White Emperor City and a river. The Daoist’s mind will immerse itself in it, like a water dragon swimming in the river, ascending the Dragon Gate, which can add a few points to her chances of success.” South Wall was very surprised, never expecting that their Palace Master Mao actually knew the sword cultivators of Great Wood Temple so well. Was it the High Ancestor who secretly instructed him, or did Mao Zhui want to open up the situation through Great Wood Temple? A new official’s first three fires – the sword immortal lineage that hadn’t made much progress under the High Ancestor’s leadership might flourish under Mao Zhui, wouldn’t that be a common trick in the officialdom of mountains and rivers?

Mao Zhui said, “Lu Chen has a study, not in his own Daoist temple of South China City, but built in Jade Pivot City, named ‘Viewing a Thousand Swords Study’.”

South Wall didn’t understand what Mao Zhui was bringing this up for. Wasn’t this something everyone knew?

Mao Zhui slowly said, “It was prepared for me.”

South Wall was stunned.

She generously admitted her mistake and said with shame, “White Bone Daoist friend, I judged a gentleman’s heart with a petty person’s mind, underestimating you.” Mao Zhui said, “No matter who inherits the orthodoxy of Flowery Sun Palace, you will have some hostility towards him, feeling that no Daoist official’s achievements or morality are worthy of sitting on that chair in the Ancestral Hall. Moreover, you are a Daoist with a body as a miniature world, especially full of vitality, and a sword cultivator at that. So when you stand next to the White Bone True Person, who is also a sword cultivator, you naturally feel a potential danger, a premonition that comes from instinct. If I were to have murderous intentions in Flowery Sun Palace, you would be the second to notice.”

South Wall asked curiously, “Who would be the first, Heavenly Lord Yin?”

Mao Zhui glanced at South Wall, perhaps not understanding why she would ask such a question.

South Wall belatedly realized, and knew the truth: it was the true master of this mountain, that Mountain God of Grand Unity Mountain.

Mao Zhui walked to the water’s edge. Perhaps the fish in the pond mistakenly thought he was the old master, wagging their tails and gathering around. The old blind man who gouged out his own eyes, enclosed a territory in the wilderness, forcibly cutting off a piece of land, creating the Ten Thousand Mountains. The metal born from earth, according to the five elements’ generation and restraint, constantly migrated the mountains, supplemented by that group of golden-armored divine generals and warriors, suppressing the abundant Daoist energy that almost soared into the sky in all the major energy apertures throughout his body, preventing his form from ascending!

The Cave Master of Emerald Cloud Beach, the later Daoist temple of East Sea View, was so unforgiving since ancient times – if anyone dared to damage my Daoist cultivation, I would cut off your heavenly fortune and earthly advantage!

Pure freedom, being able to do everything you want to do, being able to say no to everything you don’t want to do, and being fully able to bear the consequences.

How many ordinary scholars abandoned worldly riches and honors to enter the mountains seeking immortality, hoping to attain longevity and coexist with heaven and earth.

Only what Lu Chen sought was never the so-called fifteenth realm, or even the Great Dao’s perfection, but only to “see my true self.”

Whether it was a sentimental response to the scene, or simply being melancholic by nature, Mao Zhui lowered his head and gazed at the fish in the water. In an instant, the fish mistakenly thought there was bait in the water, scrambling to snatch it for a moment, but ultimately it was all in vain, and they all dispersed.

Apart from the swordsmanship that sees through the illusion of life and death, it seemed that Lu Chen had entrusted all his lingering attachment to the world to a skeleton.

Fallen Phoenix Mountain. Chen Lingjun staggered back from the Iron Talisman River Water God’s Mansion, hiccuping all the way. The green-robed page boy was sharp-eyed, noticing a visitor near the mountain gate, and immediately withdrew his spell, lowered his cloud head, and floated down to the road. He focused his eyes to take a look.

After another look, thankfully, it didn’t seem like any of the heroes from the “Register of Wayfarers”. Then he would go and meet them, full of energy after eating and drinking his fill. He, the new Water God Bai Deng, and Zeng Cuo, who had been promoted to strategist, were all his brothers. They hadn’t seen each other for several days, and he missed them very much. So they agreed to have a good meal together today. Before raising their cups, he didn’t forget to remind Bai Deng to drink only a little, so as not to delay official business. Zeng Cuo had essentially packed up his bags and gone to the Water Mansion to help his brother, serving as the chief advisor, handling criminal justice, finances, and acting as a secretary, knowing how to make money and manage subordinates. He reminded Bai Deng of the tricks of dealing with people, how to deal with superiors, manage subordinates, and befriend colleagues, explaining everything clearly. Bai Deng’s personality and temperament were indeed a bit rough due to his Daoist foundation, but thanks to Zeng Cuo’s planning and Chen Lingjun’s patching up from the side, a lot of effort was saved. This Water God position was now secure!

Chen Lingjun swayed his sleeves, walking towards the mountain gate, and noticed that Wei Bo and the unfamiliar young man were looking at him with… respect?!

How strange! Something was wrong with Wei Bo. Ever since he became the Night Wandering Spirit, he had been acting like he was too good for everyone. Was the sun rising in the west today?

He finally noticed that Little Millet and the Celestial Officer were winking at him, signaling behind him. Chen Lingjun turned around, startled. It turned out there were two scholars from the Daoist world.

Chen Lingjun’s face lit up, and he turned around directly, put his hands on his hips, stood in the middle of the road, and laughed loudly, “Nephew Zheng! It’s been a long time since we last met!”

Zheng Juzhong nodded with a smile.

Liu Xiang on the side was expressionless, tsk.

He had seen fierce people, reckless people, but he had never seen anyone who dared to treat Zheng Juzhong so casually.

Zheng Juzhong was practically wearing his name on his forehead, and this green-robed page boy didn’t even recognize him?

Chen Lingjun, on the other hand, wondered why the scholar whose identity was temporarily unknown looked a bit hunchbacked.

Lu Shen near the mountain gate remained expressionless, only his eyelids twitched slightly. Chen Lingjun strode closer to his brother Chen Zhuoliu’s disciple, put his hand to his mouth, and said in a low voice, “Nephew, if you haven’t had time to find an inn in the county, why not stay at my house in the mountains? You can choose any room in the east or west wing. If you think the rooms on both sides are too small, I can clear out the main room for you to live in. We’re family, no need to stand on ceremony!”

Thinking again, the green-robed page boy quickly added, “If you prefer a quieter, more comfortable place, there are a few nice houses in the mountains. I’ll take you for a walk and show you around, just say the word if you like one.”

Poor scholars are all proud. He understood! Then the friends of poor scholars must not be too wealthy either, that was just common sense!
Wei Bo had nothing to say, merely raising a hand to his forehead in resignation.

He couldn’t be bothered to explain anything to Chen Lingjun.

It had been like this for years.

Zheng Juzhong said, “I appreciate the thought, but no need.”

Chen Lingjun was visibly disappointed, clapping a fist into his palm, his smile returning brightly, “We must at least share a meal before you leave. I have a fantastic cook at home, his skills are truly exceptional…”

Liu Xiang chuckled, helping to smooth things over, “Unfortunately, Fellow Daoist Jingqing, we just ate, a simple home-cooked meal with Zhao Shu and Ning Ji.”

Chen Lingjun remained undeterred, “Then we’ll save it for next time. Consider it pending.” His good brother, Chen Zhuoliu, was a penniless, thin-skinned scholar, the lot of them were like that. So Chen Lingjun borrowed some legitimate books from the old cook, meticulously categorized, and placed them on the table, so they could peruse at their leisure whenever they decided to stay.

He placed a table in the courtyard, furnished only with empty wine cups. Empty wine jugs were unheard of, wine was to be plentiful.

He would summon Bai Mang, and his kindred spirit, old Brother Jia, invite them up the mountain. The four of them would share a table, play drinking games, and revel in camaraderie.

Every morning, at the crack of dawn, whoever woke first would simply shout from the doorway, “An arrow piercing the clouds summons a thousand horses and soldiers! Brothers, where’s the morning brew?!” Chen Lingjun thought of something, speaking telepathically, “Nephew, I won’t lie to you, my mind is always sharp, I’m known for not being confused about important matters. When I was chatting with your master on the steps earlier, and remembered how you could converse with the Sage of Culture and the great white goose, I found it rather peculiar. It struck me, in a moment of bewilderment, that you might be the great fiend Zheng from White Emperor City. Bah, bah, bah! Childish words, childish words! I meant the righteous, chivalrous, and courageous Lord Zheng, of course. Heavens, I almost scared myself to death!”

Liu Xiang and Lu Shen exchanged a glance, then both looked at the Divine Lord Wei. Chivalrous Zheng Juzhong? Who taught him that in Fallen Mountain? Wei Bo was helpless; it was all based on his own comprehension, self-taught.

Zheng Juzhong smiled, “If I were Zheng Juzhong, wouldn’t my master be Chen Qingliu? And if he were Chen Qingliu, you would be able to fraternize with the one who slew the dragon, and fear nothing from then on?”

Wei Bo couldn’t help but feel a bit worried. However scatterbrained Chen Lingjun was, he still had a conscience.

Liu Xiang was curious how the boy in green would respond.

Lu Shen felt that Zheng Juzhong’s words were fraught with danger.

Unexpectedly, the boy in green simply tilted his head, remaining motionless, his eyes unclear whether they were innocent or dazed, just blankly staring. “Huh?”

After a long moment of blankness, he shook his head vigorously. Chen Lingjun held up a finger, waving it, “No, no, that’s not how it works. I can’t explain the specifics, I haven’t read enough books.”

Zheng Juzhong asked, “Then shall we keep it pending?”

Chen Lingjun laughed heartily, he was definitely someone who had studied, but hadn’t studied *too* much, for him to be able to converse so.

Lu Shen was on high alert, his nerves taut.

Why had Zheng Juzhong come here?!

Even so, Lu Shen still behaved properly towards the people accompanying Zheng Juzhong, holding his breath, and giving a bow, a traditional courtesy.

Liu Xiang simply ignored it.

As they walked towards the mountain gate, the boy in green first returned a cupped fist salute to the polite, unfamiliar youth, and then, as if remembering something, scratched his head and said a sincere thing to that Nephew Zheng.

“I just want to make some true friends, whether they’re of high or low status, rich or poor, with bulging or empty moneybags, it doesn’t matter. At the table, with a jug of wine and bowls, we’re all equal.” Zheng Juzhong paused, smiled knowingly, and nodded, “Uncle is a drinker.”