Lord Li the Second, his wife, and daughter accompanied his son-in-law, Han Chengjiang, on a journey to the Flower Plume Dynasty, nestled north of the frigid Beiju Luzhou. This marked their first formal visit to the groom’s family since the marriage.

The woman, the moment she descended from the carriage onto Qiaozi Lane—a place wider than many a town’s main street—grew increasingly uneasy. As she beheld the grand manor of her son-in-law, before even crossing its towering threshold, she wrung her hands, unsure of where to place them.

Han Chengjiang had previously explained the lane’s name, something about the lofty Qiao wood ascending skyward, and the gentle Zi wood bowing in reverence. The woman hadn’t fully grasped the meaning, dismissing it as scholarly nonsense. However, when she learned that the entire lane belonged to the Han family, passed down through generations with a strict no-division decree, she gasped inwardly. How wealthy her son-in-law’s family must be! The yearly cost of feeding so many Hans alone must be a king’s ransom.

The massive, gilded plaque above the gate, and the pair of white jade lions squatting taller than a man, were enough to unnerve her. But once inside, the labyrinthine paths of the estate, twisting and turning until she felt dizzy, truly intimidated her. Not a speck of dirt or fowl droppings marred the manicured grounds, and she dared not even spit. Nudging her husband in the ribs, the man merely grinned and reached for her hand, which she promptly slapped away. “Old fool, haven’t you any shame? If those scholars inside see us, they’ll look down on Huai,” she hissed.

Instead, she pinched her arm lightly. It stung. This was no dream.

Back home in their small town, she’d even dared to criticize the cooking of her relative’s kitchen staff. Here, she barely dared to breathe.

She had known Han Chengjiang came from a well-to-do, scholarly family. But never could she have imagined a doorstep so grand, or a home so vast.

Her daughter, Li Liu, remained quiet and reserved as always. That was her nature. Her spirit was like her father’s. Thankfully, she possessed her mother’s looks and figure, or she might never have found a husband.

Her husband, though a quiet simpleton, seemed surprisingly composed. He met everyone with a calm, even demeanor, nodding silently, unfazed by the grandeur. This calmed her somewhat, though she still whispered a warning, “Li Er, just like that. Say little, and for the love of the ancestors, don’t embarrass Huai! Or you’ll sleep on the floor tonight!”

Li Er merely grinned and nodded.

She rolled her eyes, “Bumpkin.”

Han Chengjiang, ever the courteous son-in-law, smiled reassuringly. “Mother-in-law, please don’t be so formal. Treat this as your own home.”

In truth, Han Chengjiang was just as nervous, if not more so. He feared the endless customs and traditions of his family would overwhelm his wife and her parents.

On their journey, he had sent two letters ahead, urging his family to be respectful but not ostentatious. Only a personal reply from his grandfather had quelled his anxieties.

The woman spoke softly, her voice barely audible, “Chengjiang, I hear you’re the eldest son and grandson, with a large and prosperous family. The rules must be endless. We come from humble beginnings, and Liu is quiet and unassuming. I fear we’ll shame you.”

Back in their small town, families squabbled over every little thing. What chaos must reign in a household like the Han family?

After a few days in the Han manor, the one thing the woman could boast about was her son, Li Huai, a scholar of some renown.

Yet here, even Vice Rectors and virtuous men of the academies were too numerous to count.

She longed to leave. She felt out of place, fearing she would commit some social blunder at the elaborate banquets, unsure even where to direct her chopsticks.

Fortunately, Han Chengjiang’s grandfather, the old master Han, was remarkably amiable. He had once held high office in the capital but had since retired. He displayed none of the airs of an official, making the woman wonder if the Han family of Qiaozi Lane owed them some debt.

She learned that Han Chengjiang’s parents were on their way from the capital. His father, too, held a high position in the Imperial court, and his return required imperial leave.

Han Chengjiang’s father was none other than the Grand Secretary of the Flower Plume Dynasty.

And old master Han himself was the previous Grand Secretary, serving for nearly forty years as the empire’s chief administrator, a true leader among the ministers.

The Ministry of Appointments and the Ministry of War were traditionally staffed by members of the Han family or disciples sworn to them.

The woman only desired to meet her in-laws and then retreat to the familiar comfort of her small town shop, where she could hear the sounds of chickens and dogs, and speak in a voice loud enough to be heard.

Here, the servants glided silently through the halls, and even the children bowed and greeted them like miniature scholars. This, she supposed, was what they called ‘cultivated manners’.

In a study warmed by a floor furnace, the near-centenarian Han master, still sharp and vibrant, regarded his grandson and granddaughter-in-law with a kind and contented smile.

Han Chengjiang, a lower-fifth realm cultivator, stumbled upon the path of cultivation by chance. His heart lay elsewhere, and he showed little interest in the pursuit of immortality.

Old Master Han turned his benevolent gaze to the woman who appeared so fragile and asked, “Are you finding your stay agreeable?”

Li Liu smiled, “I am, Grandfather, but my mother finds it hard to adjust.”

The old master nodded. “No matter. The Han family owns a mountain villa outside the city. Chengjiang can take you there. It’s as rustic as any village.”

Li Liu thanked him.

As the head of the Wu Ju Han family, Old Master Han possessed sharp information. He knew of the Li family from records of his own clan and from whispers in the Lion Peak mountains.

Li Er of Lion Peak was a martial artist in the ‘End’ Realm. He was originally from the Lulizhu Grotto-Heaven of Baoping Continent. Few mountain immortals in Beiju Luzhou knew this.

The barbarian king Wang Fu-Su had once visited Lion Peak and received a beating from Li Er. Later, at the Martial Temple discussion at Mandarin Duck Bay, Wang Fu-Su had told the martial artists there that Li Er’s fists were generally okay and not too heavy.

The Flower Plume Dynasty of Beiju Luzhou, like the Lu clan of the Middle-Earth, was a significant power. It was among the few dynasties that could exert control over the mountain immortal palaces. The Wu Ju Han clan, with its ancestral shrine in Quwo County’s Jiang village, enjoyed the unofficial title of “Tai Shang Huang” or “Supreme Emperor.” More than a hundred of its ancestors had been granted “civilian” or “martial” epithets and were enshrined in the Imperial Temple.

Yet Han Chengjiang, the eldest grandson of the Han clan, at the age of forty, had achieved little in the Imperial Court. He held a position as a secretary at the Ministry of Rites before retiring to study for six years.

The Flower Plume Dynasty began compiling a significant work, and the Hanlin Academy of Scholarly Academics recommended the Secretary Han Chengjiang as the editor.

Old Master Han asked, “What are you doing these days?”

Han Chengjiang had traveled extensively in recent years, and meetings with his grandfather had been rare.

Han Chengjiang, sitting properly, respectfully replied, “I am currently writing two books. They are temporarily titled *Collection of a Hundred Schools* and *A Gathering of Cautionary Tales*.”

Han Chengjiang read widely and categorized the prefaces, imperial edicts, biographies, and memorials that he encountered. When he encountered wise sayings, he extracted these and categorized them into the categories of governance, cultivation, conduct, and eloquence, and compiled them into a volume.

Old Master Han smiled and nodded, “They are like the *Ancient Prose Primer* compiled by the Two Wu and *Drunk Ancient Hall Scavenging* by Lu Xiangke.”

Han Chengjiang said, “I am merely picking up what others have left.”

Old Master Han waved his hand. “If the books turn out well, they could be treasures that shape oneself and others. Give me the drafts and I will advise you. Remember to use a pseudonym if you publish.”

Han Chengjiang agreed.

The old man suddenly laughed, “Li Liu, Chengjiang has fine calligraphy. Who wrote the spring festival couplets in the ancestral house in Huaihuang county?”

Han Chengjiang’s calligraphy was exceptional and deeply appreciated by the Emperor. The Emperor directed Han Chengjiang to write Imperial Stele editions. Even the emperor’s study hall was written in Han Chengjiang’s handwriting.

Han Chengjiang was a recognized prodigy. At the age of twenty, he passed the imperial examinations. Han Secretary requested that his son’s rank be reduced because officials should not be in line before the talented. Hence, when Han Secretary came to visit his relatives, the emperor gave him a jade Ruyi to ensure that his travels would be smooth. In addition, he presented him with over a hundred rare books, specifically for Han Chengjiang.

Li Liu laughed. “My brother wrote the Spring Festival Couplets and the ‘Fu’ characters.”

She spoke directly and without restraint.

Old Master Han was speechless.

Han Chengjiang repressed his laughter at seeing his grandfather’s unusual expression.

Li Liu glanced at the plaque in the study, which read *Shame Quelling*.

The name was taken from the saying, “Look up and not be ashamed of the heavens, look down and not be ashamed of man” and was echoed by Qiao Zi Lane.

On the wall was a banner bearing iron and silver hooks.

“When the wind comes, the sea rises, a dragon aura within the scabbard.”

“Clouds embrace the mountain’s journey; beyond the wine cup, all is mere fluff.”

Han Chengjiang softly laughed, “Grandfather doesn’t like to drink. He just likes the poem.”

When his grandfather was young, he had joined the army for ten years and been a famous scholar-general.

Later, in the Imperial Court, Han Secretary said something strange.

“My friends are mostly young people you don’t know.”

The old man sighed. “Lion Peak is a good place for cultivation. I went there only once in my youth. Such famous mountains and Daoist temples are not only feng shui treasures for Daoists. They can broaden the minds of scholars and inspire them to become sages.”

The Lion Peak Mountain Lord, a renowned Yuan Ying cultivator, was good friends with Zhou Mi, the former mountain head of Yufu Academy.

The old man suddenly asked a question that others would find peculiar. “Can I ask you something? Why did you choose Chengjiang?”

Li Liu answered. “It has to do with mountain affairs. There is both hatred and fate, which must be resolved in this life.”

When she and Han Chengjiang married, they only had a wedding banquet in the small town at the foot of Lion Peak. No one from the Han clan showed up.

Han Chengjiang and the Wu Ju Han clan are well-spoken.

In his two previous lives, Han Chengjiang had come into contact with the soldiered-through many lives that Li Liu reincarnated through.

Yang Senior directed Li Er and his family to move to Beiju Luzhou, and Han Chengjiang ran into Li Liu during his travels. They went together to Lion Peak.

It was as if the fate had been decided.

Li Liu was well aware that it was Yang Senior’s work that had changed Cai Daohuang’s red strings on the books.

In exchange, Yang Senior gave Hu Feng a stroke of fortune so that he could cultivate.

But the golden cicada slough hiding a grotto heaven was something that the younger brother, Li Huai, did with a wave of his hand.

Old Master Han was rendered speechless and asked, “Li Liu, what is your current level of cultivation?”

Li Liu said, “Immortal Realm.”

Old Master Han looked at Han Chengjiang, who seemed to be hearing this for the first time but showed an indifferent expression.

Previously, Han Chengjiang had accompanied Li Liu back to her hometown and worked on the tasks of picking water and chopping wood, eating simple meals.

He had attended the dedication ceremony of Fallen Mountain and had drunk with Chen Senior who had paid a visit in person.

Old Master Han was silent and asked, “Do you have any hope of rising to the next level?”

Li Liu nodded. “Within a hundred years, definitely.”

Old Master Han was silent again.

Currently, there seemed to be only one soaring realm cultivator in Beiju Luzhou.

The Fire Dragon cultivator on Padi Peak.

The old man laughed. “Few people achieve lasting success and preserve their virtue. Li Liu, I entrust Chengjiang to you.”

People had historically failed because of jealous leaders.

Li Liu nodded. “No problem.”

The old man asked, “I heard that Chen Qing Ping is from Lulizhu Grotto Heaven. How old is he?”

Li Liu said, “A little over forty.”

The old man hesitated and asked, “Can I ask Chen Senior’s cultivation realm?”

Previously, Chen Shi Yi was a Jade Purity Realm sword cultivator and a peak martial artist.

Li Liu thought about it and shook her head. “It is difficult to say.”

***

Red Candle Town. Bookshop in the alley.

A squat, wooden man came and looked at the black youth lying on the rattan chair, and said, “I’ve come to buy a book.”

Li Jin, god of the Chongdan River, immediately sat up and laughed. “A rare guest.”

The visitor had demanded a city god position. Otherwise, he would remain in the Mantou Mountain Earth Temple.

Elevation in the mountain government was harder than ascension in the Imperial court. However, the Great Li government had agreed.

The twenty-year-old youth had helped the emperor of the Divine Water Country conquer half the country in ten years.

The country had taken up historical Shu territories. The Divine Water Country had included the Great Sui Dynasty, the Yellow Court Country, and a bit of the Lu Clan Dynasty.

He was a famed general and a founding member of the nation.

When he retired, he had not reached forty.

His name was Zhang Ping.

Many in the Red Candle Town were named Zhang Ping.

Wei Bo’s invite to the North Pinnacle Night Tour Party had been given to Zhang Ping, who was the only invitee who did not attend.

Wei Bo was the Great Yue Mountain God of the Divine Water Country before he lost his territory.

He had been demoted to a low position. His situation was unlike the old Zuiyin Dynasty Mountain God Jin Qing.

The city god said, “Are there books on war?”

Li Jin pointed to a bookshelf. “They are all there.”

Zhang Ping walked over and glanced over a few, picking out *The Hundred Generals of the Twenty Seven Dynasty*. He picked out a volume on someone. “How much?”

Li Jin laughed. “I will give it to you for free.”

Zhang Ping did not argue and left.

Li Jin called out, “Let’s talk. You’ve never visited this place before.”

Zhang Ping stopped. “What is it?”

The town had been displaying strange phenomena.

Li Jin laughed. “The Steward of the Fallen Mountain gave me two paintings. Chen Senior helped embellish and stamp them.”

Zhang Ping nodded. “Congrats.”

“Success is followed by retirement.”

Li Jin shook his head. “You act like a Daoist.”

Zhang Ping admired a certain murderous general.

The Hao Ran martial temples were constructed in the style of Confucian temples.

The county and municipal temples would only hang images of the ten heroes of the martial temples. State-level martial temples would have sculptures of the ten martial heroes if they had sufficient money.

Capital temples had both the ten martial heroes and sixty-two martial members.

The Holy Confucian Temple also had four martial heros.

Li Jin laughed. “He was too murderous.”

Zhang Ping spoke quietly. “I’m not even worthy to lead his horse. Don’t comment.”

The temple had seventy-two generals, ten in the main hall and sixty-two on the wings. Unlike Confucian temples, martial temples changed members frequently.

In the small place of Baoping, only one martial artist had been selected for the martial temple, but his membership had been fleeting.

Consequently, nobody knew about it.

The name was Zhang Ping of the Divine Water Country.

Li Jin laughed and asked, “What about the child you took care of?”

Zhang Ping glanced at the Mantou Mountain Earth Temple and said, “He’s marking his roster again.”

Li Jin laughed.

Two hundred li west of Red Candle Town was Mantou Mountain, home to a modest Earth Temple.

Zhang Ping had risen in fame. The temple had been restored and given a temple assistant.

The vermillion child stamped its foot. Zhang Ping was a bastard and had left him alone.

The Zhu Yi child started flying.

***

Jin Qing paid a visit to Yuan Bai of the Huangshan Sword Sect.

Yuan Bai joked, “Do you want me to be a three-surname slave?”

Jin Qing spoke, “You should carefully consider this.”

Yuan Bai declined to leave the sect.

“The Fallen Mountain’s lower sect, the Green Floating Sword sect, will be the first sword sect.”

Jin Qing said, “Chen Peace values you, because of your swordplay. You’ll be better off here than in Huangshan.”

Jin Qing should have confirmed the founding of the Dulgu clan before trying to dig up Yangshan.

Yuan Bai said, “I will not go.”

Jin Qing nodded and sent a flying message to Fallen Mountain.

South Pond Lake in Baoping.

Qin Lake Monarch held a white bowl with a drop of water.

The small drop held eighty percent of the lake water.

The Immortal Shao Yuyan had to remind her that it was impolite to build a temple to herself.

The Lake Monarch was authorized to start a residence, just like golden core cultivators. She would ask Guan Lake Academy and Mountain Cliff Academy for ritual offerings.

She had rejected the benefits from Chen Qing Ping.

In Beiju Luzhou, Shen Lin of the Grand Stream Gong Residence put up a plaque that towered over the residence.

It read, “Heaven’s Wandering Merit.”

Shen Lin smiled to himself and murmured, “Heaven’s wandering merit, cold moon in the river, Sun asks, moon learns, traveler thinks of home.”

In Middle Earth, there was a wine shop owned by Yang Zhi. “Do you want to be my student and learn immortality?”

The girl asked, “What’s the benefit?”

Yang Zhi said, “I can teach you water cultivation.”

The girl frowned. “I won’t need a Daoist cultivation. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to cultivate.”

Yang Zhi laughed. “You will, and you’ll become a water god.”

Gong Xin Zhou was a low rank mountain official.

But it was still a good place to start.

Chen Senior had reminded her and the old scholar had hinted.

Yang Zhi was worried about wearing a small shoe.

Chen Qing Ping was often accompanied by Qing Tong.

The old show was with Li Senior and was hard to talk to.

The small river woman asked, “Does the master-student ceremony require bowing and tea?”

Yang Zhi waved his fan and shook his head. “No need.”

The small river woman cheerfully said, “Why can’t we?”

Yang Zhi laughed. After a few more sips, they were student and master.

Yang Zhi had asked Chen Qing Ping whether she could move freely in the same way as Tao Ting.

At the moment, she could not ask.

When the small river woman left, a book academy official with jade came and landed at the wine shop.

Gong Xin Zhou sensed him and realized that he was good-looking.

The official spoke. “Without permission from the Confucian Temple, you cannot visit the South Posa and Fuyou Continents and cannot visit the Three Ruins. Otherwise, you will be executed.”

“However, there is a condition. You must travel to Tongye Continent.”

“Chen of the Fallen Mountain will help you reserve a portion of the water transport, but you must use it to open the Great Streams of Tongye Continent in exchange for a thousand years of freedom.”

Yang Zhi asked, “That’s it?”

The official nodded. “If you agree, I can immediately message the Confucian Temple to report this.”

Yang Zhi asked, “For sure?”

The official laughed. “The decision of the Confucian Temple is not a joke.”

On Great Yue Mountain, an old Daoist left the Yellow Dreams Wine shop and rode a blue ox to his temple.

The green ox Daoist Feng Jun had decided that he should be polite since Huai Lian did not know the situation.

He also greeted Chen friend and reminded him that he was cultivating on Juxu Mountain and was welcome to visit.

The old Daoist reopened a temple on Bird Raise Mountain.

The mountains and rivers were now reversed.

In the Tongye Continent, in the Devil Suppressing Tower.

The Holy Teacher looked out and said, “To open the Great Stream in the Tongye Continent, we need great cultivators to move mountains and seas. Now that we have Yang Zhi and Little Daoist, we can get the job done.”

Chen Peace had been gathering literature.

Jin Qing had given him a monument of stone carvings from the mountains of the old Zuiyin Dynasty.

Wu Yi gave him a sword hilt with a sword pill.

Chen Peace had borrowed thirty thousand words of literature from the Qiantang River.

The Holy Teacher looked into the distance. “A river of time is like two characters.”

Chen Peace said, “Now.”

The Holy Teacher said, “There is always a reason. It is inevitable.”

Chen Peace slowly said, “People learn once, I learn a hundred times. People learn ten, I learn a thousand times. It is just that.”

“The strong can think more, and the weak can think less.”

The Holy Teacher nodded. “Do you have an impression of the phrases you like and hate?”

“Yes.”

Chen Peace said, “My family was poor and had no way to see the books.”

The Holy Teacher smiled, “It is a good idea. We felt the same way.”

There were fewer than ten people who knew about Chen Peace’s unity.

If Chen Peace was the new unity, he was still just one.

Even if Chen Peace was just half of an existence, it was still a lot.

The Holy Teacher said, “Chen Peace, you must guard your heart. Don’t let him out until you are a fourteenth-realm sword cultivator. Don’t let him take over.”

Chen Peace said, “I will try!”

One half of a fifteenth realm was not bad.

What about the half of a sixteenth realm?

The Holy Teacher laughed, “Not even I can stand him.”

In the Mud Jar Lane, there was someone who made the Dao God turn.