The air hung crisp and expectant as Xiao Mo led the venerable Immortal Wei toward a humble fortune-telling stall. Wei, an immortal of considerable (if somewhat tarnished) repute, surveyed the scene with a disdainful eye. A mere table, a worn bamboo cylinder for divining sticks, no grand banner proclaiming “Iron Tongue Divining the Heavens.” This Cao Mo, while bearing the title of Immortal Master, clearly lacked the savvy of a seasoned traveler. “Alas,” he muttered to himself, “I am now entangled with this Cao Mo. It falls upon me to impart some wisdom.”

Yet, a question gnawed at him. “Xiao Mo,” he inquired, unable to contain his curiosity, “why did Cao Mo refuse the celestial coin? If my eyes do not deceive me, it was a Snowflake Coin, currency favored by mountain immortals!”

Did these lofty beings truly hold coin in such low regard?

Xiao Mo offered, “It is difficult to relinquish wealth. He who can freely give up riches is truly a master.”

Wei dismissed this with a snort. “Such platitudes fill volumes. Yet, my own pockets remain emptier than my conscience.”

He spied Cao Mo preparing to pack away his fortune-telling paraphernalia. Wei’s eyes widened in alarm. “Is he ceasing his labors already? Can the pursuit of coin be so casually abandoned?”

With a theatrical flourish, Wei seated himself upon the long bench, snatched the bamboo cylinder from Cao Mo’s hands, and shook it with vigor. A single stick tumbled forth. Wei scrutinized it, muttering to himself as if in communion with some unseen celestial being. His face contorted in surprise, concern, and sudden understanding. He nodded, frowned, and then, his face flushed crimson, he roared with passionate conviction, “Immortal! This fortune is unerring! Divine! Truly, an agent of the heavens!” Wei rose, offered a somewhat clumsy Daoist salute, and drew forth from his sleeve a single, gleaming gold ingot. He slammed it upon the table. “I implore thee, esteemed immortal, reveal the method of overcoming this… adversity!”

Xiao Mo, standing to the side, watched this spectacle with a silent grimace, feigning complete ignorance of the buffoon’s existence.

Cao Mo, who had uttered not a single word, looked from Wei’s eager face to the gold ingot upon the table. He rubbed his temples, a headache brewing. This was no mere marketplace, but a ferry crossing frequented by the magically inclined. Such crude theatrics would fool no one.

Wei, a barely competent Qi cultivator, had traveled north, enduring hardship and meager fare. He hoarded a single gold ingot, a testament to his failures. Even Pei Qian, in her youth, possessed more finesse. And now, Wei threatened to brand Cao Mo a charlatan.

As predicted, passersby, be they officially registered immortals, wild mountain spirits, or canny travelers, cast pitying glances toward the fortune-telling stall. What desperation drove these charlatans to ply their trade at a place like Gaisu Ferry? Were they so destitute that they resorted to such reckless schemes? It was akin to setting up a fortune-telling stall at the gates of Dragon Tiger Mountain, or playing Go in the hallowed halls of White Emperor City. Surely, the returns would be scant.

Cao Mo inclined his head, and Wei, noticing the growing distance between the stall and the other travelers, reluctantly retrieved his gold ingot, too fearful of theft to entrust it to his pack within the guesthouse chamber. He would keep it close. Cao Mo gathered the makeshift divination tools, reminding Wei that it was time to depart. With a clap of his hands upon the tabletop and a flick of his sleeves, table and chairs vanished into nothingness.

Wei’s jaw dropped. “Transmutation! The ability to conjure something from nothing! Could I but learn alchemy from Cao Mo, to turn lead into gold!”

The trio left the ferry crossing and followed a wide Imperial road toward the capital. Wei sighed, lamenting their continued journey on foot.

Cao Mo glanced at Wei’s ornate hairpin, a relic of ancient origins, and spoke telepathically to Xiao Mo: “What do you make of this Immortal Wei?”

If this man, whose given name was “Nianjing” and bore the epithet “Immortal Wei,” truly was the first “Daoist” of the human realm, then, according to the records of the Summer Palace, this Daoist, blessed with great fortune, had perished in a battle to ascend to the heavens. Cao Mo had confirmed this with the Sage of Rites upon his return to the world, who attested to the Daoist’s demise. The Daoist’s hairpin had fallen to earth, recovered by the founder of Immortal Hairpin City, Gui Lingxiang, setting her upon her path of cultivation and inspiring her dream to build a city that reached the heavens.

Normally, this Daoist would have undergone a spiritual dismemberment to be reborn. This Immortal Wei could only be the remnant of that Daoist’s soul.

Those ancient gods reborn could rely upon their divine essence; the “true self” would slumber within, unaffected by the mortal shell. But Wei was a cultivator, not a god. Each rebirth would scatter remnants of the old soul, replaced by new, until each new iteration was further removed from the original Daoist.

Unless…

Unless the Daoist had only undergone a limited number of spiritual dismemberments throughout millennia, perhaps only a single one?

Xiao Mo looked troubled. “I cannot speak with certainty on this matter. You ask the blind to guide you.” His knowledge of Daoist rebirth was negligible, given that, millennia past, cultivators, human and demon alike, were limited to a single life.

The efficacy of spells remained relatively static, but the vast diversity of modern Qi cultivation, while not inherently more potent, was certainly more varied.

Cao Mo nodded, stating that the matter could wait. He was reluctant to resort to dark methods of soul binding to ascertain Wei’s identity and origin, and wary of drawing the attention of the masterminds of Immortal Hairpin City or the machinations of Zouzi.

According to Wei, his supposed fortune stemmed from finding a damaged text in his youth, setting him on the path of cultivation. He knew little of the modern ranks of cultivation, guided only by fanciful tales of “land gods.”

Wei was stuck in the fifth rank, the “Willow Tendon” stage, without formal instruction, mentors, or a foundational item. He was woefully ignorant.

This fake Daoist was a seasoned scammer, having traded places on both sides of the con. He’d even been captured by bandits and forced to act as their literate scribe. He’d escaped with a parting gift, an inscription above the gang’s hall: “Heaven Rewards Diligence.”

The one with the answers was the master of White Emperor City who had once tried to prove he was not the Daoist Ancestor.

There was a saying that once spread through the peak of Hao Ran Mountain, about when Zheng Juzhong had yet to ascend to the fourteenth realm, and Cui Chan was still the leading disciple of the Sage of Letters, that they had once had ten matches on Colored Clouds.

“With shallow giftedness, do not attempt Immortality.”
“Without exceeding intelligence, do not attempt to weave a tiger.”

Cao Mo recalled a metaphor by Cui Dongshan, “Born as a man, like building a boat, and after that life reborn, the soul scatters, and you take from one side to fix the other, stitching and patching it up. How does one distinguish an old boat from a new one, and whether the two are one and the same?”

Xiao Mo responded, “Does this belong to the sophistry of the Logicians, regarding the ‘rectification of names’?”

Cao Mo responded, “My teacher thinks it’s not a good idea to use the Logicians’ observation, and that we will tend to slip towards sophistry, but he feels sad that we are not in the present situation. The Logicians must not be in excess, but it is absolutely impossible not to have them.”

Xiao Mo hesitated. “I advise against keeping Wei close. It would be better to turn him over to the halls of letters.” The risks were too great.

Cao Mo replied, “I am used to this sort of thing. The joy of cultivation lies in the unknown, in solving the riddle. And more importantly, I don’t believe that pushing Wei away would solve anything. What seems distant is often near, and what seems near may be distant.”

Xiao Mo bowed. “My heart is narrow compared to yours.”

Cao Mo responded. “Then drink more, the sky is not as wide as a wine bowl.”

Wei shielded his eyes. “I spy a tavern! My stomach rumbles for drink! Immortal Cao, are you peckish?” He had been calling Cao Mo by his first name, but here he used the title as an honorific.

Cao Mo considered the small tavern. The sign read, “Dismount, Return, One Taste Throughout the Ages.”

It was known as a place for counterfeit drinks, selling fake wine of famous makers. It was cheap enough that people bought it.

One dared sell it, and the other dared drink.

Wei urged Cao Mo to rest. “Who knows what odd characters might frequent such a den! A fortunate encounter might lead to celestial blessings!”

Cao Mo crushed the idea. “We can eat and drink if you foot the bill.”

Wei swiftly changed the subject. “Is it true what they say in the books? Ambrosia, celestial wines, spirit fruits? Have you tasted the Immortal Pears and Fire Dates, the thousand-year-old Ganoderma rice, the ten-thousand-year-old ginseng-stewed duck? What are they like?”

Cao Mo was displeased. His expeditions, whether as a commoner or an immortal, had never been characterized by lavish spending on food and lodging.

Seeing Cao Mo’s displeasure, Wei ceased his prattle. “Such fine words on the sign! It should draw celestial drinkers! Such a pity we will miss it!”

Cao Mo ignored him.

He had received a message from Ning Yao who was at Renyunyiyun Tower. She would soon be out of seclusion in two days. Cao Mo told her to take her time. He would soon need to attend a wedding in the city.

Xiao Mo patted Wei’s shoulder.

“What for?” Wei asked.

Xiao Mo grinned. “Save your breath and walk.”

Wei sighed. A man with no coin has no will. He was being lectured by an assistant.

Cao Mo stopped at the tavern and went inside. A white-robed man sat at a table and drank. It was as Wei had said.

Zheng Juzhong lifted his bowl and said, “How very opportune.”

Cao Mo performed a bow and said, “Master Zheng.” He took a seat. There were three bowls at the table. Zheng Juzhong had been waiting for them. Cao Mo was certain that Zheng Juzhong, as he saw him, was a different person than how the tavern patrons saw the man.

Zheng Juzhong said nothing, but the riddle had already been solved by half. He did not believe he warranted Zheng Juzhong’s attention. It had to be Wei.

Wei sat with ease. Xiao Mo poured the wine and stood behind Cao Mo. He knew who the man was before them, and he knew he had to do everything to make sure Cao Mo’s safe arrival at Hao Ran. He had also made an effort to remember all those who had already ascended to the pinnacle of the heavens.

Zheng Juzhong turned to Wei and said, “Stirring wine with a hairpin, it will soon be spent, like a man grinding ink. A name will be destroyed, but will flow for eternity.”

Wei was joyful. If they were talking nonsense, he would have no fear of Cao Mo. Twirling the bowl, the young Daoist began speaking with a straight face and smiled. “If the Dao is one foot, the demon is ten. Fate is difficult, there’s only one cry.”

Cao Mo winced.

Zheng Juzhong smiled and said, “Commendable words, congratulations.”

Wei then said, “Born under a bad sign, what can I do, force myself to defy the heavens?”

Wei would use any words that he could use to keep people in check.

Zheng Juzhong stood up, smiled, and left a small coin on the table, which would pay for the drinks.

Zheng Juzhong said three words. “Do not be serious.”

This was probably Zheng Juzhong’s way of teaching Cao Mo how to get along with Wei.

Cao Mo telepathically thanked, “Thank you for your teachings, Master Zheng.”

After Zheng Juzhong left the tavern, Cao Mo took the coin and said to the tavern owner, “We will be paying now.”

Wei was confused. “Who was that? His words don’t seem very reliable, but he’s doing well, and he knows to pay for the drinks.”

Cao Mo ignored him and paid with a Snowflake Coin, then drank some of the supposedly Immortal wine.

He told Xiao Mo to sit and asked, “What about your four flying swords?”

Xiao Mo produced them. “Three of them are offensive, and the other is auxiliary for training, but now it is useless. All four of them have no name, and I might need your assistance. I like one of the four swords most, which can connect a celestial object with the lands below. Should a sword match require me to gamble, it must be this. The other two are useless, because they only imitate other sword’s divine connections, though they are not able to last for more than a couple seconds. The other can set up a prison and bind people’s soul, which can be good for cheating. So for that, it isn’t useful and flashy.

“And the final sword, for training, is quite fast. But with your momentum it isn’t worth mentioning. This sword allows me to absorb the Qi throughout the entire lands, within a 1000 miles or so. When I reached the Earthly Immortal, what is now the Immortal realm, this is useless.

“If there is a suitable swordsman, I will give them sword techniques and, if they are determined, give my sword to them.”

Cao Mo smiled. “Then drink more.”

Xiao Mo smiled. “Do you have any candidates at Falling Mountain? If there is, then it will save a lot of problems.”

It was no joke.

Cao Mo shook his head. “No need to play with your children. Let it take its time.”

Seeing Wei’s confused expression, Cao Mo asked, “What’s wrong?”

Wei patted his stomach and complained, “The wine is delicious, but it doesn’t satisfy my hunger.”

The tavern only sold drink, not food.

Cao Mo smiled and said, “When we reach the city, Xiao Mo will buy some food.”

Wei frowned. “It’s still miles away. Immortal Cao, I won’t slow you down by walking back?”

Cao Mo smiled and turned to the tavern. There were so many travellers. There was so much to see.

Drinking was like the moonlight, a beautiful sight, and the foulest word.
It was also hometowns, thoughts, and dreams.

Cao Mo waited for Wei to finish his drink. He had Xiao Mo carry Wei and then he used Cloud Body to return to the capital.

They went to a smaller Daoist monastery.

Wei ate the scones Xiao Mo bought. It was delicious, and it satisfied the hunger.

Cao Mo wrapped his hands and stood outside a street of the capital’s Tao Zheng yamen. He was in no rush to visit.

Xiao Mo saw that his lord hadn’t walked so he took a few steps and bowed. On the steps was a monument where the writing was from Da Li’s Chong Xu’s Bureau’s Daoist leader. Based on the monument’s record, the person was a cave of disciples, leading the capital’s Daoist leader Chong Xu’s Guan Master Xi Jun Wu Lingjing.

Cao Mo had passed by it and wondered how the person became a Daoli lead. He also knew it was a relation of Li’s book of rites.

Not just the Chongxu Bureau, but even the translators’ book, with the Buddhist elephant holding the title of the Trizitaka were all from Qingluan, and from the White Water Temples.

Wei then spoke, “Immortal Cao, what are we doing here?”

Cao Mo said, “Wandering.”

Wei asked, “Then why don’t we go in?”

Cao Mo said, “Why don’t you finish eating first?”

Wei oh’d and didn’t realize that the plaque reading “Capital’s Dao Zheng Yamen” and thought that he was nothing big.

Wei finished and clapped his hands. “Let’s go see.”

The monastery’s doorkeeper was a small Daoist. Cao Mo claimed that he was a friend of Daoist Ge Ling and had come to drink a cup of tea.

Hearing that he was a friend of Daoist Ge, the Daoist let them pass, otherwise they would not take visitors.

The leader of the Daoist Yamen greeted him and, with a brush in his hand, saluted him and said, “Greetings, Mountain Master Chen.”

Cao Mo returned the courtesy and said, “I disturb you.”

The old Daoist said, “Not at all. Mountain Master Chen’s visit is an honor.”

He led them into a building, where three seats had been prepared. The old Daoist had the Daoists bring tea.

He then asked, “I’ve heard you’ve trained at Sword Qi Great Wall. Have you discussed the Dao with the Jade White City Sage?”

They were talking about the Sky City Master of the Jade White City.

Cao Mo shook his head. “I’ve only seen them. I haven’t had contact with the old immortal.”

It was regrettable.

When he travelled to the world of Qingming, he was certain to visit the Sky City.

The old Daoist nodded. When Cao Swordsman finished his tea, he asked to walk around the monastery. The old man said he could and that he was free to look around.

Cao Mo took Xiao Mo and Wei out of the room. The old Daoist stood at the door, and left to complete his business.

Cao Mo arrived under the ancient cypress.

Wei asked, “Xiao Mo, what position does the Capital Daoist Yamen hold?”

Xiao Mo said, “They control the Daoist in Da Li’s capital.”

“A big office!”

Wei was shocked and then asked, “Xiao Mo, will Cao Mo assist me in getting a Daoist pass?”

Xiao Mo shook his head. “Ask the lord yourself.”

The sounds of the wind blew.

Cao Mo looked back and said, “Let’s go.”

Before leaving the monastery, Cao Mo met the Yamen’s Daoist, and discovered that all the people in the city who wrote words and looked at the stars were there, waiting to look at Chen Swordsman. Cao Mo did not reveal what he knew and simply left.

He then took Xiao Mo and Wei to the Chongxu Bureau. It was a translation place and newly constructed, so it was more dignified than the old monastery, so Wei was shaking in his shoes. Xiao Mo joked that he could go ask the lord for them. Wei smiled, unsure how to respond.

Cao Mo took off his cloth shoes and sat in a monastery on the long wooden floor. Xiao Mo dragged Wei to the steps.

Cao Mo wrapped his hands in his stomach and closed his eyes to rest.

He was resting his heart, like a monk, carrying the burdens of the law.

There was an idiom that said, “Farming on a stone cliff.”

It was used to describe a poor person’s hardship.

For some reason, when Cao Mo saw the words “Grinding a Brick to Form a Mirror”, he thought of the idiom from his hometown.

A person has a peace of mind, but a place where his heart is bound, and where he cannot linger.

Master Cui Chan probably wanted to find his home’s attic, where he could look through the small windows at the stars, the winds, the rain, the galaxies, and the snow.
It was possibly a tutoring place in a distant land where he saw a poor teacher trying to teach the children.

Ah Liang wanted to go back to the mass grave.
Wei Bo wanted to go back to the woman who fished out the golden statue shards from the water.

Even the ghost wanted to go back to the scholar who read books on the road at night.

It was impossible to linger.
It was more difficult to decide between black and white.

Cao Mo said, “Xiao Mo, you and Wei can go back to the house first.”

Xiao Mo said, “It is okay. We will wait for you.”

As for Wei, who had eaten a vegetarian meal at the translators’ bureau, felt like face was more important. Sitting there made him feel bored, but it reminded him of his hardships when he journeyed north.

Cao Mo opened his eyes to the moon at its zenith.

He then looked at the stairs where Xiao Mo and Wei had been sitting. He saw Xiao Mo sitting there with perfect posture, and Wei snoring.

Cao Mo went to the stairs and put on his shoes.

Xiao Mo was about to slap Wei, but Cao Mo said, “Hit them early.”

Wei rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”

He then asked if he could eat a late-night snack.

Cao Mo led them out of the translators’ bureau and went to a late-night snack stand.

The old master Yu Hong and his group took the Changchun Palace ferry and went ashore, arriving at Hong Zhu town and then travelling towards the Water God temple at Yuye.

At night, Yu Hong visited the Water God temple. The temple’s status was quite high for the region.

It had changed masters a couple of years ago, but the one who had come wasn’t very intelligent. The woman was tactful, but could not deal with other issues, causing some of the patrons to move away. Water God Li Qingzhu did not seem concerned and seemed set on her being the best candidate.

Yu Hong announced his name and said that they were able to take the boats themselves, but the master gave them magic talismans that opened a path and made a car for them to ride in the water. Yu Hong smiled and ignored it. His assistant Huang Mei did not look pleased.

As they passed by the Water Mansion gate, the woman reported their presence.

Li Qingzhu soon came to greet Yu Hong, as a top Da Li patron and a martial artist of the ninth tier.

She had had a brief relationship with one of Yu Hong’s disciples.

Yu Hong discovered that the Water God always seemed worried.

What she wanted most was stability.

It was unimaginable that a water god would go to Piyun Mountain and Tie Fu River to pay respects.

In Da Li’s capital, the Bian Family held a wedding feast.

Lin Shouyi had come to the capital specifically for Shi Jiachun’s eldest son.

He had last met his classmate Shi Jiachun many years ago, at the hometown of Huaihuang.

It was hard to imagine that Shi Jiachun’s son, who had been a boy then, was marrying.

At that time, Shi Jiachun had only missed her best friend Li Baoping.

This time, only Lin Shouyi came. Li Baoping and Li Huai were absent and Dong Shuijing couldn’t leave his matters and asked another to deliver his gift.

The messenger was carrying a gourd of wine and was inebriated. He didn’t give his name, but instead said he was giving the gifts for his friend.

The Bian Family realized that he was a drunken lunatic, who was the only one able to bring the wine gourd to work.

The person was transferred from Long County, who was the construction supervisor to Vice-Minister of Works Cao Gengxin, Cao Family’s eldest grandson. He was an upright official of the third tier.

Moreover, his uncle was Imperial Inspector Cao Ping.

The Cao Wines immortal stumbled and was slow, but was hard to stop. In one corner, he had brushed against a woman’s shoulder, retreated, and apologized. The woman thought he looked good so she did not mind.

Also, Criminal Ministry Officer Zhao Yao sent a gift. This gave the Bian Family and their families a lot of face.

Shi Jiachun’s husband, Bian Wenmao, was from Da Li’s Qinggui. Although he was not that illustrious, he served in the scholarly Hanlin Institute, so he was a top talent. For that reason, his patron was the Changchun Palace Elder.

Lin Shouyi declined the Bian Family’s invitation and sat at the table with other immortals.

The minister of works was the top ranking one, invited by the Bian Family’s family.

In addition, there was the new Tang flower Yang Shuang and another member of the group Wang Qinruo.

The two had recently entered the Hanlin Academy, but Bian Wenmao did not dare show off.

Another person transferred back to the capital, Fu Yu, spoke with Lin Shouyi.

Lin Shouyi was born in Da Li, a scholarly talent, and had a nascent core!

The elderly patron of the Bian Family was a Dragon Gate tier. Though her realm was not high, she had taken disciples and never made any errors. She had four Changchun Palace disciples, Zhong Nan, Chu Mengjiao, Lin Caifu, and Han Biya.

The highest level among them was Zhong Nan. Chu Mengjiao and Han Biya came from Da Li’s capital officials, but their relationship with the Bian Family wasn’t good.

Zhong Nan would look at Lin Shouyi from time to time.

Chu Mengjiao would look at Yang Tang from time to time.

Lin Caifu would look at Wang Qinruo, because he was destined.

Yang the Tang was handsome and Wang the Tang was overflowing with talent.

The Changchun Palace disciples would choose a Dao companion and remain with them for life. There was no discussion of whether the partner had to come from the mountain.

Only Han Biya cared to eat. She had to eat her money back!

Lin Shouyi wondered why the Changchun Palace disciple was looking at him from time to time. How could she know him?

He did not remember that, when they had first met, Lin Shouyi had been traveling and they had seen each other in Hong Zhu town, when one was on the shore, and the other was on the ship. They had both been young.

Lin Shouyi remained until the end. Shi Jiachun was childish and came to sit with Lin Shouyi and joked that she could have her son and daughter-in-law. You should prepare because I am sending you the next invite. What about your sons? Why do you continue to come here without them?

Lin Shouyi smiled and said nothing.

He was patted on the shoulder. Lin Shouyi turned and saw that the man couldn’t hide, and said, “It’s not good to hide from a wedding feast.”

The woman looked at the man in the blue gown. She said, “Chen Pingan?!”

Shi Jiachun had not seen Chen Pingan for more than 20 years. But for some reason, she was able to recognize him.

Chen Pingan smiled and nodded and gave a red envelope.

Shi Jiachun opened it and saw it was a… small money!

Shi Jiachun had learned that Chen Pingan had acquired some mountains and became a tycoon. He had also gotten close to Great Mountain Sovereign Wei Bo.

It was a good thing.
The good should be rewarded.

Shi Jiachun’s memory of Chen Pingan was hazy, but there was something that made it feel safe. However, he did not tell her husband about it.

Chen Pingan sat on the chair next to Lin Shouyi. Shi Jiachun laughed and said, “I have a daughter waiting to marry. I will send an invitation to the next wedding, just follow what happened today! Don’t forget that you can’t hide from a wedding feast.”

Chen Pingan said, “No problem, as long as I don’t have to go far, I will come.”

Shi Jiachun asked, “Have you married?”

There was a difference between what happened on the mountain and what happened at the wedding.

Chen Pingan smiled and nodded. “The engagement has been made. It will be soon.”

Shi Jiachun looked at Lin Shouyi, clicking her tongue.

Lin Shouyi had some wine.

He then looked to the entrance. There were some visitors he did not expect. It was Da Li Emperor Song He and Empress Yu Mian.

Shi Jiachun was puzzled. Who was it? Why were they sweating?

Was it that good to have Chen Pingan here?

Lin Shouyi stood up and coughed and whispered, “It is Emperor and Empress.”

Shi Jiachun scoffed. He was joking now?

However, she still had to stand up. Even if the Bian Family was a pillar of the government, the Bian Family’s children would not have the Emperor come to the wedding feast.

She then saw Chen Pingan and he was still sitting, drinking.

Chen Pingan put down his cup.

Lin Shouyi led Shi Jiachun to the other table. Bian Wenmao came over and clenched her hand.

Everyone was speechless.

Emperor Song He walked over and saluted and said, “Song He greets Master Chen.”

Chen Pingan said, “Is there something you want?”

The Emperor said, “I hope Master Chen can be the Da Li National Tutor.”