From atop the Jade Citadel, highest of all towers, a young Daoist, lotus crown askew, leaned against the balustrade, his eyes crinkled in a smile. Time, after all, was an endless river, and what better way to while it than to gaze upon the world below? Perhaps, he mused, the sisters and maidens of the Five Cities and Twelve Towers would catch a glimpse of him and whisper of his celestial aura.

Lu Chen, for that was his name, turned his gaze towards a distant palace, its gilded roofs glinting in the ethereal light. He perceived a figure, newly dispatched with a decree from the Grand Master, hurrying towards the Upper Clarity Pavilion. Even from afar, Lu Chen could sense the burgeoning of the man’s “ascension,” a detail not lost on the envious eyes of lesser Celestials. To stand upon the Upper Clarity Pavilion, to look down upon the entirety of the Five Cities and Twelve Towers, was a privilege, a sign that one had caught the eye of the Grand Master, a promise of great things to come. Lu Chen waved a hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Little Heavenly Sovereign Yang! This way, this way!”

A moment later, the young Daoist landed lightly in the corridor, his posture one of respectful deference. He bowed deeply, performing the Daoist obeisance. “Yang Ningxing, of the City of Spiritual Treasures, greets Grand Master Lu.”

Lu Chen chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. “Enough with the formalities, Ningxing. How many times must I tell you? Call me Uncle-Master. You and Chen Ping’an are sworn brothers, so you are as a close friend to me. No need for such ceremony here, is there?”

Yang Ningxing, hailing from the Cloud Soaring Palace of the Northern Continent of Black Gloom, had traversed the Realm of Azure Shadows via the Five-Colored Sky. He ascended swiftly, becoming a disciple, albeit nominal, of Senior Brother Yu upon entering the Jade Citadel. The City of Spiritual Treasures was Yu’s place of attestation, thus Yang Ningxing cultivated within its walls. Though young, his rank within the Celestial Hierarchy was incredibly high.

Yet, Yang Ningxing remained steadfast. “I dare not.”

Lu Chen frowned, feigning annoyance. “Don’t be like that, my nephew. It’s so terribly dull. I much preferred you as that dark-robed scholar, scheming against Chen Ping’an!”

Yang Ningxing lifted his head, hesitating. “May I inquire why Grand Master Lu summoned me today?”

Lu Chen smiled. “Nothing of great import, as you might imagine. Just thought I’d show you the sights, fulfill my duty as your Uncle-Master.”

Yang Ningxing, though bewildered, dared not question further.

Lu Chen extended two fingers, flicking them against Yang Ningxing’s brow. Instantly, the younger man’s eyes turned to gold. He felt a wave of dizziness, and despite his best efforts to quell the disturbance in his Dao heart and the turbulent energies within his body, he staggered, reaching out to steady himself against the railing. Lu Chen laughed. “Don’t be alarmed. I’ve merely opened your Heavenly Eye, granting you a sliver of the Jade Citadel’s sight. What I see, you shall see as well.”

True to the Grand Master’s word, Yang Ningxing perceived that what he now saw was “Yang Ningxing.”

Lu Chen turned, his gaze directed towards a tall pavilion, famed within the Jade Citadel as the place “where verdant peach trees lean on the clouds.” A flock of cyan phoenixes soared amidst the mist, and within the grove, Daoist officials stood with faces as green as jade.

For Lu Chen, to behold the panorama of the world was a simple matter. By virtue of his own cultivation and his seat within the Jade Citadel, he could perceive all beings and landscapes, even the smallest detail appearing as if close at hand. However, to pinpoint a specific individual, especially one skilled in obscuring celestial secrets, was not unlike searching for a needle in a haystack. It was a laborious task, and Lu Chen, notorious for his indolence, was loath to undertake it. Besides, the Jade Citadel possessed an Observatory, dedicated to monitoring the movements of cultivators at the peaks of mountains, though even that was not infallible, such were the myriad illusions and arcane arts of the world.

Lu Chen had recently journeyed to the Blessed Grotto of Lízhu, spending over a decade as a stallkeeper in the small town. Afterwards, he paid a visit to the Great Wall of Swords and the Wild Lands. It seemed that he had only blinked, only dozed, yet the Realm of Azure Shadows had undergone a profound transformation.

Then, Yang Ningxing “followed” Lu Chen’s vision, swift as an arrow, piercing through layers of clouds, like a hunting bird soaring over the land. He saw the outline of a continent, then mountains and rivers winding like dragons and serpents, then a majestic city teeming with dragon’s luck, and finally, a sacred temple erected by imperial decree: the Green Phoenix Observatory…

“The world, the Province of Bīng, the Azure Divinity Dynasty, the Green Phoenix Observatory. The world shrinks, and men grow taller.”

Lu Chen shifted his gaze slightly, smiling. “Those Five Mausoleum youths are there, at the Golden Jade Dojo, the Caverns of the Seed of Dao. You’ll have to visit sometime. Mǐ the Bandit King and the martial artist Qī Gǔ both came from that place. But Yǎ Xiāng Yáo Qīng is not in the capital at the moment; she’s protecting the immortal couple Zhāo Gē and Xú Jùn during their seclusion. The Azure Divinity Dynasty is one of the few places that builds temples. Within one of them dwells a purple-robed monk with a powerful sword technique. It’s the rising star Jiāng Xiū. Jiāng Xiū’s swordsmanship rivals that of your master. His emergence is both ordained and timely. He is likely to seek a reckoning for the Buddhist Dharma with our Jade Citadel.”

“This is the Province of Rǔ, the Crimson Gold Dynasty, the Crow Mountain.”

“This Crimson Gold Dynasty flourishes due to its ‘Master Lin,’ and the Crow Mountain. Lín Jiāngxiān has come to the Realm of Azure Shadows as a guest. I wonder what he seeks.”

Yang Ningxing, curious, asked, “Grand Master Lu, is this Master Lin a Qi cultivator?”

Since his arrival in the Realm of Azure Shadows, even within the self-assured City of Spiritual Treasures, Lin Jiangxian was held in high esteem.

Lu Chen laughed. “In this life, Lin Jiangxian is no Qi cultivator, nor is he a swordsman. He is… a swordsmaster?”

“Head Daoist Sūn of the Xuan Capital Temple has declared that he ‘feels shame to stand before Master Lin.’ This is not mere flattery, but an acknowledgement that Lin Jiangxian can fight, and fight well! The ‘firsts’ of other realms, including the martial goddess Péi Bēi of the Glorious Land, are different from the ‘first’ of Lin Jiangxian. The ‘first’ of Master Lin of the Realm of Azure Shadows truly means the first. The gap between the second and Lin Jiangxian is as vast as that between an Ascended Realm and a Fifteenth Realm cultivator. The difference between Zhāng Tiáoxiá and Péi Bēi is nowhere near as pronounced.”

Yang Ningxing was puzzled. “A swordsmaster?”

Lu Chen nodded. “Having or not having a sword in hand makes two different Lin Jiangxians.”

“Sadly, among the countless martial artists in the Realm of Azure Shadows, none are worthy of drawing Lin Jiangxian’s sword.”

“Look at the Province of Yōu. The snow always falls particularly heavily there, this year is no exception. The snowflakes are as big as fists. See that ancient battlefield? Notice the oppressive evil spirit? It reaches to the sky! Were it not for the cooperation of the Hua Yang Palace of the Earth Lung Mountain and the venerable Yáng clan of Hongnong, each guarding a region, willing to sacrifice the cultivation of an Ascended Realm cultivator every millennium, there would have long been a revolt of a million Yin soldiers. It is said that a few years ago, the Yáng clan produced a peerless beauty of surpassing loveliness, in her prime. Look, there she is, arranging her hair behind the crystal curtain. That languid posture is beautiful, truly beautiful. And look at the fullness of the curve where she sits against the bench… And how white is that hand of hers! Hmm, why can’t I see her face clearly? The Yáng clan of Hongnong is truly cautious, as if guarding against thieves!”

Yang Ningxing, unable to participate in such voyeuristic activity, closed his eyes, but to no avail. What Lu Chen saw, he saw as well.

“Nephew Yang, heed my words, spoken from experience. Once your Dao gets higher, do not indulge in such practices too often. It is too draining, and a great taboo in cultivation.”

“Let’s look at the Province of Yōng. It is the smallest province in the Realm of Azure Shadows, much like the Treasure Bottle Continent of the Glorious Land. Isn’t that interesting? This was the site of My Continent’s early Daoist temples. Now, there is also the Jade Talisman Dynasty, where the young empress Zhū Xuán is preparing a grand universal ritual. At the summit of that water mountain range, there is an ancient Lotus Deity Temple. Within it, there is a national treasure. Outside it, there is an old camphor tree that can foretell the fortunes of the Four Provinces.”

“This Zhū Xuán is fickle, as women are wont to be. When she was young, she even made me pinky promises, swearing she would marry Brother Lu when she grew up. Now that she’s blossomed into a beauty, she has reneged on her promise. Alas, is it the nature of beautiful women to break their word so readily?”

“The Province of Yǒng, the Dismemberment Mountain, has a Grand Forefather Lóng Xīnpǔ, who delights in spreading songs and prophecies, yet dotes on a grandson of the Xuan Capital Temple. Such devotion is hardly befitting a Qi cultivator seeking eternal life. It is in this very Province of Yǒng that the Mǐ bandit sect originated. But back then, those invested Daoist officials were not disparaged as ‘bandits.’ At their peak, the number of Daoist officials and candidates destined to be invested numbered in the hundreds of thousands. Yang Ningxing, do you understand what that signifies?”

The Province of Zhù swarms with feathered guests.

The Province of Qí, the Xuan Capital Temple. It is where Lu Chen most often visits, a Daoist temple.

The Province of Yīn, the Two Capitals Mountain and the Great Tide Sect, have formed an alliance through marriage. That Lady Zhāo Gē, whose Daoist title is Restoration of the Survey, is a true match. She sacrifices everything for others, willing to let her own cultivation wane, just to give her ghost-cultivating partner Xú Jùn a chance to be the first among the Fourteenth Realm cultivators.”

Outside the heavily guarded cave entrance of the Great Tide Sect, Yáo Qīng suddenly looked up, smiling and shaking her head, as if warning Grand Master Lu to cease his spying.

Lu Chen was stunned, then flew into a rage, leaping and yelling, “Are there so few unusual people in the world that you think I’m the only one with nothing better to do!”

Within the Province of Yōu, a purple-robed monk who treads on snow without leaving a trace chanted loudly, “Within the grass hut, we discuss the profound. Upon the meditation cushion, we preach morality. Everything else is not to be mentioned.”

As if sensing a clue, the monk turned his head, smiling as he gazed towards the Jade Citadel. With a wave of his hand, a flash of sword light rent the heavens, severing that gaze on the spot.

Lu Chen marveled. “Nephew, did you see that? Jiāng Xiū’s swordsmanship is powerful, is it not? It lives up to its reputation! My judgment of people is always accurate! Would you believe that if Jiāng Xiū unleashed his full power, a single sword beam could reach the Jade Citadel?”

Yang Ningxing was speechless.

On a secluded hilltop, where white snow weighed down green bamboo, a handsome youth emerged from the Mist Cave of the Mountain-Subduing Palace, choosing that spot to savor a pot of bamboo shoot stewed with salted pork. At his table sat two women, one with dark skin, her hair adorned with a wooden hairpin, wearing hemp clothing and straw sandals. The other was more traditionally celestial, clad in a robe of verdant magic, exuding Daoist energy.

Lu Chen smiled, introducing the three to Yang Ningxing. “Little Grand Master Zhāng Fēnghǎi, Lǚ Bìxiá, who can also be called the Immortal Láng Niè Bìxiá, and Shī Xíngyuán.”

Zhāng Fēnghǎi suddenly put down his chopsticks, wiped his lips with his thumb, and smiled. “Grand Master Lu, it has been many years.”

A moment later, Zhang Fenghai picked up his chopsticks again, the intrusive gaze clearly gone.

The final scene within Yang Ningxing’s field of vision was the Year’s End Palace, the Stork Tower.

Lu Chen smiled. “The ‘literary’ Gāo Píng. The scholar speaks of military matters on paper; the defeated general dares not boast of bravery.”

Lu Chen sighed, waving his hand to dispel the temporarily imparted divine power.

“Breathing water light, drinking mountain dew, the energy of war dissipates into the light of the sun and moon.”

Cài Dàohuáng, known to posterity as “Matchmaker of the Moon,” once possessed the Book of Fate, “The Human Pairing Shop, the Heaven Under a Matchmaking Mountain.”

Lu Chen had confirmed one thing while at Lízhu Grotto: that “useless but extremely useful” Book of Fate was no longer in the hands of the old man who ran the shop. Unsurprisingly, this was the doing of the apothecary Yáng again.

Half of the Book of Fate had already fallen into Liǔ Qī’s hands. His journey with his friend Cáo Zǔ to the Realm of Azure Shadows was likely motivated by the desire to obtain the remaining half. Was it Zhāo Gē? After all, that Daoist woman’s household register belongs to the Woman Gazing at Heaven.

Liǔ Qī’s actions could not be simply dismissed as a desperate, rash move.

Liǔ Qī’s poems were characterized by their laments for those who had fallen in love, but were ultimately denied the union.

To attempt to use the “entire Book of Fate” to unite all lovers was indeed in accord with Liǔ Qī’s Dao.

In the Fallen Phoenix Mountain bamboo tower, the Treasure Bottle Continent martial artist Cuī Chéng, a lifelong self-professed scholar, had only taken two disciples, and both of them unacknowledged. Yet, he had inadvertently taught boxing to two who were nearly at the summit.

Lu Chen sighed deeply.

“Martial artists are not free, for Cuī Chéng stands above.”

Sunrise and sunset are all swordsmanship.

Lín Jiāngxiān, formerly known as Xiè Xīēn, but even that was a pseudonym, concealing his true identity.

His real name was likely recorded in the secret archives of the Summer Palace of the Great Wall of Swords.

The former Hidden Official was Xiāo Xùn, the new Hidden Official, Chén Píng’ān. The former Minister of Justice, Háo Sù, the new Minister of Justice, Qí Shǒu.

Of the three sword cultivators with official titles in the ten thousand year history of the Great Wall of Swords, only the Sacrificial Official, whose whereabouts were unknown, and whose fate was uncertain, remained old, never new.

Noticing that Grand Master Lu had fallen into thought, Yang Ningxing retreated three steps, bowed, and said softly, “Grand Master Lu, shall I take my leave?”

Lu Chen snapped out of his reverie and smiled. “Together, together.”

Leaning against the railing, he vaulted over it, heading towards the Divine Cloud City.

The current Lord of Divine Cloud City was Jiāng Yúnsheng, who had the form of a young Daoist boy.

The previous Lord, Yáo Kějiǔ, whose Daoist name was Imitation of the Ancients, had ultimately failed to return home.

“Good flowers resemble old friends; without a drink, the cup is empty of its own accord. Alas, old friends do not resemble flowers.”

In the city of his hometown, a young sword cultivator named Fāng Ài had found the wooden handle of Yáo Kějiǔ’s horsetail whisk.

Only he and Dǒng Huàfú had chosen to remain in the Divine Cloud City of the Five Cities and Twelve Towers. The other seven sword cultivators had dispersed into the other towers of the Jade Citadel, and quickly became official Daoists, each with a master.

That handle was Yáo Kějiǔ’s only memento.

Lu Chen saw the old object as if he were seeing an old friend. Thus, he often came to the Divine Cloud City to drink with the young man.

Tonight, Fāng Ài was pouring wine, insisting that the Grand Master, whose face was flushed, drink another bowl.

The Grand Master held the wine cup with both hands, turning his head, repeatedly protesting. He couldn’t drink anymore, he would get drunk. No, no, no, enough, enough…

But in the end, however slowly he poured, he still filled the cup.

Dǒng Huàfú had come to freeload wine. Lu Chen’s wine was worth some money.

As for Fāng Ài and Lu Chen’s dance of pouring and refusing wine, Dǒng Huàfú was used to it. They often put on this display.

It was probably as Chén Píng’ān had once said, “Drinking without pushing others to drink is so dull, so lifeless.”

Of course, that was because the wine shop was jointly run by Chén Píng’ān and Dié Zhàng. If the guests were not pushed to drink, how could the wine sell well?

Lu Chen looked down at the brimming bowl, sighed, and looked up to complain, “See, you’ve filled it again! Don’t do it next time, or I won’t come next time!”

Fāng Ài nodded and smiled. “It won’t happen again.”

When he first arrived at the Divine Cloud City, Fāng Ài was a genuine young man.

Lu Chen took a sip of the wine, shuddered, and smiled. “Good wine, good wine.”

Lu Chen crossed his legs, leaning against the stone table, his shoes tapping lightly against each other, looking bored to death.

“Fāng Ài,” he asked, “do you want to sit in the top chair of the Divine Cloud City in the future?”

Fāng Ài said, “Let me be the Deputy Lord first.”

His unspoken meaning was that he of course wanted to be the Lord.

If he were the Lord, he would probably not lack Immortal money. It was a consensus that sword cultivation was a bottomless pit, consuming enough heavenly materials and earthly treasures to pile into a mountain.

But Jiāng Yúnsheng had only been the Lord of Divine Cloud City for a few years. Under normal circumstances, according to the old rules of the Jade Citadel, that meant that there would be no change of Lord for several centuries, or even several millennia. On the other hand, there was still some hope of becoming the Deputy Lord. For one thing, there was not just one radish in that hole, like there was with the Lord. Besides, as long as there were sufficient reasons to get both Grand Masters to nod their heads, it was not impossible to temporarily add one.

Lu Chen liked this about Fāng Ài, saying what he thought, without pretense. He smiled and asked, “I have a secret plan, do you want to hear it?”

Fāng Ài hurriedly offered him a cup of wine, taking one himself first.

Lu Chen looked mysterious, clenching his teeth, and uttered a single word: “Endure!”

Fāng Ài twitched his mouth. Grand Master Lu, you’re just spouting nonsense.

If I could endure for three or five thousand years, I could be the Lord or Master of any of the Five Cities and Twelve Towers of the Jade Citadel.

If you were really sincere, let me go to Nanhua City, where you are, and be the Deputy Lord. Just try it and see if I would dare to be it.

Lu Chen asked, “Do you miss your hometown?”

Fāng Ài said honestly, “Occasionally.”

Lu Chen seemed a little surprised and smiled. “Just occasionally?”

The young sword cultivator nodded. “Just occasionally.”

He did not often miss it, but whenever he did, he missed it very much.

Lu Chen tapped lightly on the table with his hand. “Yes, that kind of missing is called homesickness.”

Senior Brother Yú was like a Chén Píng’ān who had been to the Book-Brief Lake, but had not stayed.

No human mire could hold Yú Dòu. It had been that way, and it would likely continue to be so.

Lu Chen had once followed the example of the Junior Brother with the Daoist name Mountain Green and set up a similar test of heart, like that in the Book-Brief Lake.

Unfortunately, the answer that Mountain Green gave seemed incongruous to Lu Chen, not like Senior Brother Yú, nor like Chén Píng’ān.

This greatly disappointed Lu Chen, but after all, he was the one who had personally led him through the gates of the Jade Citadel. It would not be good to just abandon him, so Lu Chen sent this Junior Brother Mountain Green to the Five-Colored World.

Lu Chen put down his wine bowl, stretched out his legs, his shoes lightly tapping against each other, looking extremely bored.

Dǒng Huàfú asked, “Grand Master Lu, people in the city say that the White Bone True Man, who entered the waiting list, is one of your incarnations?”

Lu Chen immediately sat up straight, dusting off his robes, his expression solemn, and said in a deep voice, “Of course he is.”

Dǒng Huàfú said, “Can you beat Yú Dòu?”

Lu Chen hurriedly picked up the bowl and took a sip of wine, waving his hand. “I can’t beat him, I can’t beat him. Senior Brother Yú is truly invincible, it’s not just a nickname. We’re all in the arena, and in the arena, there are only badly chosen names, never wrongly given nicknames.”

Dǒng Huàfú asked, “Is Grand Master Lu a sword cultivator?”

Lu Chen thought for a moment, since they were practically family, he would tell the truth. He raised a hand to his mouth. “My swordsmanship is not pure enough. I can’t be considered a true sword cultivator.”

Dǒng Huàfú asked again, “Besides the White Bone True Man, are there any other incarnations of Grand Master Lu among the twenty or so candidates on the waiting list?”

Lu Chen grinned. “Guess.”

Damn it, I can’t keep answering every question.

If I keep answering Dǒng Black Charcoal’s questions, I will have revealed all my secrets.

At that moment, a woman in palace robes came gracefully, smiling sweetly, but with tears in her eyes, murmuring, “Ruthless man, heartless man, are you well?”

Lu Chen glanced at the woman, jumped up, put his hands on his hips, and began to curse her, splattering saliva, his earlier wine being wasted.

However, Lu Chen’s curses were in some ancient language that Dǒng Huàfú and Fāng Ài could not understand.

The woman stopped, reaching out to Lu Chen, her face full of sorrow. “Lu, I ask for nothing else, just return my heart to me.”

Lu Chen waved his sleeve. “Stop making a scene.”

The woman then transformed into an old Daoist.

Fāng Ài was shocked. It seemed to be… the Dao Ancestor?!

He had seen his portrait on the wall in the ancestral hall of the Divine Cloud City.

Lu Chen rolled his eyes. “You don’t know what’s good for you.”

So the old Daoist transformed into a middle-aged Daoist.

Lu Chen sighed. “Fight if you want.”

But Lu Chen quickly added, “I’ll get Senior Brother Yú to join me.”

Finally, “He” transformed into a dull-looking youth, wanting to take a drink, but when he walked beyond the table’s boundary, he seemed to encounter an invisible wall. He bent his finger, tapping on the barrier, and nodded. “Lu Chen is indeed proficient in Buddhist Dharma.”

Lu Chen warned, “Don’t overstep.”

He nodded. “Agreed.”

For a cultivator to maintain his true nature was like a ghost maintaining a sliver of its spirit.

Whether human, ghost, or immortal, all are like a small boat drifting on the sea, needing ballast, a sea-calming needle for the Dao heart. In layman’s terms, it was an obsession, an act of “carving a boat to seek one’s sword.” Moreover, according to the method passed down by the first “Daoist,” maintaining one’s “true nature” also gave rise to several paths of similar origin but different streams.

And this extraterrestrial demon’s Daoist foundation, in a sense, was that Daoist, or rather, some kind of “shadow” summed up from all cultivators!

“Ten thousand years of darkness, a single oil-saving lamp.”

He smiled. “You continue your chat.”

Lu Chen nodded. “We will continue.”

Fāng Ài was already tense, but Dǒng Huàfú was still carefree and continued to ask, “There’s a Catch-Release Pavilion on the Upside-Down Mountain, and the Upside-Down Mountain is Yú Dòu’s Mountain Seal. It’s just a few steps away. Why doesn’t he go to the Great Wall of Swords?”

Hearing this question, Fāng Ài also pricked up his ears, waiting for Lu Chen’s answer.

Dǒng Huàfú’s unspoken meaning was simple: If he was truly invincible, why not go to the Great Wall of Swords and fight the Grand Sword Immortal? If he won, who would dare to deny that title?

Lu Chen hurriedly poured himself a bowl of wine, needing to calm his nerves. It was a difficult question.

This Dǒng Black Charcoal always asked such tricky questions.

Lu Chen sipped his wine slowly, feeling as if he could drink it for a day.

Dǒng Huàfú said, “If you don’t want to answer, just drink.”

Lu Chen sighed. “It’s just that it would be awkward if the Grand Sword Immortal merged with the Great Wall of Swords.”

Fāng Ài interjected, “Does Grand Master Yú feel that he would be at a disadvantage in the arena, if he challenged him there?”

Lu Chen shook his head. “It’s not a matter of disadvantage. Senior Brother Yú can’t beat him, he will definitely lose.”

“But Senior Brother Yú is not afraid of losing. It would be a misunderstanding if you thought that. You would be underestimating him too much.”

“What Senior Brother Yú seeks in this life is defeat. A hearty fight, and a defeat willingly accepted.”

“It’s just that once Senior Brother Yú lets go and truly fights the Grand Sword Immortal, the consequences would be too great, the repercussions too wide.”

Dǒng Huàfú asked, “Could Yú Dòu sever the city walls with a single sword?”

Lu Chen shook his head. “He can’t do it.”

The Grand Ancestor of Holding the Moon Mountain had been able to do it because Chén Qīngdū wanted to deliver that sword, helping the Ascension City to go to the Five-Colored World.

Just look at how difficult it was for the sword immortals to move a bright moon later, and you would know how difficult such inter-realm actions were.

Chén Qīngdū had managed to do this under the eyes of the Wild Lands demon race. The Armor Account had not been without consideration and deduction, and the result was always the same: they could not stop it.

Anyone who tried to stop it would die. Perhaps only the Grand Ancestor of Holding the Moon Mountain and Wén Hǎi Zhōumì were exceptions.

But both of them had more long-term plans. They could not take action and directly confront Chén Qīngdū.

It was like all the sword cultivators in the world, the highest in swordsmanship and sword Dao, could only reach Chén Qīngdū’s shoulders by standing on tiptoe. How could they fight, how could they challenge him with the sword?

Dǒng Huàfú hesitated, as if guessing what Dǒng Huàfú was thinking, Lu Chen smiled. “That person, ah, that’s a good question.”

Among the Ten Heroes of the world ten thousand years ago, there was a sword cultivator.

Back then, this person’s sword Dao, swordsmanship, killing power, defensive strength, and the quality and quantity of his natal flying swords were all “the best”!

Lu Chen pouted at the extraterrestrial demon standing outside the barrier, indicating that this guy had witnessed the splendor of that person’s sword.

In the battle to ascend to the heavens, there were three main routes, and this sword cultivator was in charge of leading one of them.

He smiled. “Still died.”

Lu Chen rolled his eyes. “Hey, hey, pay attention, be polite.”

He smiled and asked, “Do you want to see that scroll?”

Lu Chen stood up. “Let’s take a walk together.”

He shook his head, his figure gradually dissipating, mocking, “Lu Chen, a clay Bodhisattva crossing the river, go busy yourself with your own affairs.”

In a remote area of the Province of Yōu, in a county town, was a small Daoist temple called the Pouring Emptiness Pavilion.

With a gust of wind, a young Daoist with a lotus crown suddenly appeared on the street. The nameless temple before him was naturally deserted, leaving only an empty shell as a decoration. Lu Chen looked up at the plaque of the small Daoist temple, “Pouring full to fill emptiness,” taking from the surplus to make up for the deficiency. Hmm, not bad, not bad, a little learned. It looked like “my” handiwork. The way to maintain abundance was to diminish it, in order to avoid the regret of the soaring dragon. A good omen…

Lu Chen laughed at himself. “Just one step too late.”

With a stomp of his foot, Lu Chen shook his sleeves, raised his hand, and began to mutter and curse, “Old Gāo, old Gāo, so old, why bother to wade into this muddy water? Aren’t you afraid of ruining your reputation? You wait, you better hide in the Hua Yang Palace and be a turtle, don’t let me find you outside the mountain, or I’ll spit in your face… Huh, you’re really outside! Old Gāo, you’re high, you really look down on me. Good heavens, everyone is bullying me for having a good temper. If you have the ability, go fight Senior Brother Yú, and only pick on the weak, what kind of hero are you!”

The Daoist official Máo Zhuī of the Pouring Emptiness Pavilion, who had no Daoist name, was once a steward in charge of the kitchen. He was just a cook. Hmm, he was still the head chef.

In fact, the twenty or so people in the Daoist temple, and even the temple itself, were all transformed from this White Bone True Man.

Only in this way could he deceive the heavens and cross the sea, and muddle through.

Therefore, the county government was now in an uproar, and the prefectural city did not dare to hide anything, and had reported it to the imperial court. It was believed that it would not be long before the Jade Citadel received a secret letter sealed with purple mud. Such a major event had occurred within their jurisdiction. If it was not handled properly, it would cause a mess. A Daoist official with an official Daoist certificate had disappeared. What kind of strange thing was this?

Lu Chen glanced askance at the book stall on the street outside the Daoist temple, which had not had time to be taken away. As for the books, they had been moved away, probably by the children,

It was like deliberately leaving a letter, or rather, sending a letter to himself?

In any case, it was full of some unkind sarcasm.

Grand Master Lu was so angry that he was angry with himself, and there was no way to complain to outsiders.

In the season of heavy snow, a small boat stopped in the middle of the river, where the water was slow. At the bow of the boat, someone wore a bamboo hat and a straw raincoat, enjoying the leisurely pleasure of fishing alone.

The fisherman was a handsome Daoist of youthful appearance, wearing a Daoist cap with a stiff brim, and a sandalwood hairpin across his hair.

Someone descended from the sky, but the speed of descent was very slow, like snowflakes swaying gently, just falling beside the bow of the boat, opening his palm, holding an oiled paper package of braised meat, with a few garlic cloves.

This uninvited guest threw a garlic clove into his mouth, moved a little, came behind the fisherman, raised his foot, aimed at the back of the latter’s head, looking as if he was about to kick.

But the leg swayed for a long time, and he did not dare to kick it. He took another piece of braised meat and threw it into his mouth, his leg landing softly, and said vaguely, “Old Gāo, isn’t this a little inappropriate?”

The Daoist with the sandalwood hairpin, who had been staring unblinkingly at the fishing line, said calmly, “What does Grand Master Lu mean by that?”

Lu Chen said angrily, “You know what I mean, you like to pretend to be stupid, you’re playing rogue with me, right? You want me to worship you first!”

The young Daoist twitched his mouth.

Lu Chen hated this expression of his the most. He wanted to be both virtuous and approachable, which was rare in the world.

Elder Sūn of the Xuan Capital Temple was like that, but after all, that was rare. This old Gāo was not good at it. He always wore a stinky face, and everyone was afraid of him.

Lu Chen squatted down, moving his palm.

The man said, “No need, I’m afraid you’ll poison me.”

Lu Chen said angrily, “Why don’t you say I put aphrodisiacs in it?!”

The guy simply pretended to be deaf and dumb.

Lu Chen asked, “Did that guy hide in the old ancestor’s cave in your Hua Yang Palace?”

“I don’t understand what Grand Master Lu is saying.”

“It’s too immoral to do this kind of thing behind my back.”

“Why does Grand Master Lu curse the Dao Ancestor for no reason?”

“What do you mean?”

“This Penniless Mountain’s merits on the merit book of the Jade Citadel are not thin. There should be several pages of them. If this Penniless Mountain is immoral, how many people in this Realm of Azure Shadows dare to call themselves moral? From this, it can be seen that the Jade Citadel’s work of edification is worrying. So, what did Grand Master Lu’s teacher, who has been in charge of this world for over ten thousand years, manage?”

“Can you reason like that? Old Gāo, you’re high.”

“Grand Master Lu’s words are strange and incomprehensible.”

It was too difficult to chat like this. Lu Chen stuck out his buttocks, stretched his neck, and glanced at the fish basket. The fish basket fell into the water. Lu Chen wanted to reach out and pull the rope, but the young Daoist reminded him that it was hot, so he had to give up.

“Old Gāo, are you catching fish?”

“I’m catching fish.”

“Besides this little fish, as thin as chopsticks, is there any big fish?”

“Then there are no big fish.”

“It’s a waste of bait, and maybe even the fishing rod will be broken, and the fisherman’s tendons and bones will be injured. If the whole boat is overturned by the big fish, what’s the point? What’s the point?”

“This Penniless Mountain is willing to try, to see if the big fish has invincible strength, or if the fishing line is strong enough. I also want to try the hook, to see if it can hook a star and a half off the big fish’s mouth.”

Lu Chen looked sad and said softly, “Old Gāo, take my advice, really don’t do this, really, trust me once.”

The young Daoist also showed a rare look of strangeness, and after a moment of silence, he said, “Lu Chen, I treat you as a friend, that’s why I’m deliberately waiting for you here, just to chat, not to listen to your advice. Can you say something that doesn’t spoil the mood?”

Lu Chen dangled his legs outside the boat. Besides the braised meat and garlic cloves, there was no movement