Together, they retraced their steps towards the stone arch bridge. Chen Ping’an ascended the worn steps, halting at the bridge’s apex. There, he settled down, legs dangling over the edge, the abyss yawning below.

The white-haired boy, ever the echo, mirrored his actions, taking a seat beside him.

Chen Ping’an turned his gaze towards the sprawling silhouette of Luopo Mountain. He seemed to see Little Rice Grain, having finished her patrol of the Jise Peak ancestral hall, moving at a deliberate pace.

The right protector of Luopo Mountain was renowned for her unwavering diligence. Morning and evening, her rounds were as dependable as the sunrise, never marred by laziness or a lingering slumber.

Like the crimson-clad boy’s punctual monthly reports, she considered her own efforts a pale shadow compared to Deputy Zhou’s daily vigils. During her solitary patrols, Little Rice Grain would practice a martial art, a frenzied sword style taught by Pei Qian. But where Pei Qian wielded her blade in one hand, Little Rice Grain, ever unique, grasped her sturdy walking stick in one fist and her golden carrying pole in the other, doubling the power with her two-handed grip!

Envy not, for it cannot be replicated. This, dear friends, is the essence of self-taught brilliance.

Then, she would venture to the stream, upturning stones in search of crabs for a game of fists. The ‘one’ always prevailed, a win without fail, a predictable outcome. Such antics were, admittedly, a touch childish, bordering on unbecoming.

She vowed to cease bullying her vanquished foes. Next time, she would capture a fish. As the patrolling envoy, she would present ‘cloth’, then gently press upon the fish’s belly. The startled creature would gasp, mouth forming ‘fist’, and victory would once more be hers.

When the benevolent Mountain Lord was absent, Little Rice Grain’s patrols were swift, a flurry of movement across the slopes.

But when he graced Luopo Mountain with his presence, her pace slowed, a leisurely amble. She lingered on the mountain paths, extending her appointed task to twice its usual duration.

It was as if her haste could hasten his return, and her slowness would delay his departure.

Chen Ping’an smiled, drawing his gaze back. He removed his cloth shoes, settling into a cross-legged posture. He dusted the soles, patted the fabric, and then inquired, “That manual of fists?”

The white-haired boy, as if connected by an invisible thread to the Hidden Officer, nonchalantly replied, “As long as you don’t let greed cloud your judgment, it’s fine to entrust it to the merchants below the mountain for printing and sale, to earn coin.”

Chen Ping’an chuckled. “Speak seriously.”

The golden and jade registers of the mountain had long held a dual meaning. The first was ethereal, a reminder of the difficulty in obtaining the status bestowed by the register. The second was practical, for the materials used in their creation were of exceptional quality. The fist manual was much the same, imbued with such potent Daoist energy that ordinary paper would crumble under its weight. Facsimiles would be difficult to create, requiring, at best, a lesser true copy, perhaps even needing Chen Ping’an to erect layers of mountain and water seals to contain its power.

To put it another way, the fist manual was a mountain peak, permeated with Daoist Qi. It needed a protective array to stabilize the spiritual energy, preventing the fist’s intent from leaking and dissipating.

The white-haired boy elaborated, “Aside from the Hidden Officer’s own perusal and practice, future generations of Luopo Mountain and Xiandu Mountain, whether they be direct disciples like Pei Qian and Zhao Shuxia, or their descendants, down through the third, fourth, fifth, even seventh generations, all those with register status may read it. But it must never be divulged beyond the clan, never taught outside these walls.”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “Consider it a favor owed.”

This was not Wu Shuangjiang’s doing. The Palace Mistress possessed no such whimsy. This must be the work of the outer gate servant of Luopo Mountain himself.

Or perhaps, Wu Shuangjiang had deliberately orchestrated this, seeking Chen Ping’an’s obligation, rather than Luopo Mountain owing a debt to him and the Suichu Palace. The former was inconsequential, the latter, entirely unnecessary.

The white-haired boy’s eyes darted about. He probed, “Hidden Officer, I have a far-sighted suggestion, though I hesitate to voice it.”

In the past, the conversation might have ended there. But he held himself to a higher standard than most. Chen Ping’an smiled. “Speak freely.”

The white-haired boy’s face lit up. “As an outer gate servant, I am nonetheless a part of Luopo Mountain. I should contribute, however modestly. Thus, I wish to devote myself, day and night, to compiling a meticulously researched, beautifully worded, and vividly rendered chronicle of the Hidden Officer and the esteemed elders of the Jise Peak ancestral hall!”

Scholars and mountain sects alike were accustomed to compiling chronicles. The former focused on the deeds of their family’s forebears, organized by year. The latter was similar, but broader in scope. Top-tier sects, by custom, recorded the biographies of all cultivators above the fifth realm. Ordinary sects and larger immortal estates documented only those at the Golden Core level. Lesser sects chronicled even those in the Cave Dwelling realm. All required a certain threshold of power.

Luopo Mountain was certainly capable of this, yet it had remained untouched. Perhaps because the Mountain Lord never mentioned it, and everyone pretended it was an impossibility.

The compiler was akin to a historian in a dynasty. This task was usually entrusted to a cultivator from the disciplinary lineage of the sect.

Chen Ping’an remained silent, then began to reach into his sleeve.

First, the manual would be returned. Then, this debt would be settled.

Back at the wooden bench in Qilong Lane, they had an old score to settle.

The white-haired boy swiftly clutched the Hidden Officer’s arm. “Don’t, don’t! Compiling the chronicle is not urgent. There’s no need for the Hidden Officer to rush and give me blank volumes.”

As Chen Ping’an prepared to rise, the white-haired boy picked up one of the cloth shoes the Hidden Officer had neatly placed between them, examining it closely. “Fine craftsmanship. One can see the care put into it.”

Chen Ping’an took back his shoe and returned it to its place, as if changing his mind. “Compiling a sect chronicle is no small matter. Next time, I will raise this matter at the Jise Peak ancestral hall. If no one objects, you shall be responsible for its compilation.”

The white-haired boy began to push his luck. “In compiling the Luopo Mountain chronicle, may I sign my name?”

Chen Ping’an began to reach into his sleeve again.

The white-haired boy slapped the stone bridge. “Forget it, forget it. Doing good deeds should not be for personal recognition.”

Chen Ping’an brushed his sleeve. “It is not a problem that you shall compile this sect’s chronicle. I have but two requests. First, your writing should be simple, your wording concise, and your accounts truthful. Do not embellish or omit, nor should you hold back for fear of offending your betters. Second, begin the chronicle with my fourteenth year as a prologue. Anything before that, you need not write. There is little to tell.”

The white-haired boy nodded eagerly, rubbing his hands together, envisioning his grand undertaking. With this accomplishment, becoming a helmsman would be but a matter of time.

Chen Ping’an paused, then smiled. “If you had not raised this, I would have reminded you that you may sign the chronicle.”

The white-haired boy was crestfallen, scratching his head. “I overreached. I underestimated the Hidden Officer’s magnanimity. My fault, I cannot blame the Hidden Officer’s pettiness.”

Chen Ping’an warned, “Continue in this manner, and you will indeed forfeit your signature.”

The white-haired boy immediately composed himself, straightening his back. He glanced towards the western mountains, curious. “That True Pearl Mountain, was it truly bought with a single golden copper coin?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “Only those of high realm can discern the underlying magic. Back then, no one wanted to waste coin on that barren hill.”

The white-haired boy asked, “Did the Hidden Officer secretly receive guidance from a sage?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “I simply felt that Luopo Mountain and True Pearl Mountain sounded similar.

“Furthermore, True Pearl Mountain was closest to town, most easily seen. To enter the mountains, it was a necessary passage. I wished to use this opportunity to silently tell the town, without raising my voice, that Chen Ping’an of Mud Bottle Lane had wealth now. Whether they were happy or unhappy, whether they cared or not, they had to acknowledge this undeniable fact.

“This explanation is irrelevant. Do not write it in the chronicle.”

The white-haired boy, for once not joking, simply nodded.

Perhaps there was no true shared joy or sorrow in this world. Like two individuals, two separate realms.

Each lost in thought, each willing, giving and taking in turn, leaving no arrangement for humanity.

Having spent much time in Qilong Lane, the white-haired boy was familiar with the history of Chen Ping’an and the rise of Luopo Mountain. Chen Lingjun often drank and gossiped with Jia Sheng. The young man often exclaimed how a hero does not dwell on past glories. And the old Daoist would grumble that this was only a small matter in the grand scheme of things.

So the white-haired boy would sit on the doorstep, munching melon seeds, listening to the two fools as they bragged and praised each other. Occasionally, drunk and emotional, they would weep in each other’s arms, truly weeping. The old and the young would sit beneath the table. They would weep, and then search for more wine.

Luopo Mountain and True Pearl Mountain, along with the Baolu Mountain first leased to the Dragon Spring Sword Sect for three hundred years, Rainbow Cloud Peak and Immortal Herb Mountain, were the first five peaks Chen Ping’an had purchased.

It seemed it was that year, when Chen Ping’an was fourteen years of age.

Later, he acquired Grey Mist Mountain north of Luopo Mountain, Cow Horn Mountain relinquished by the owner of the Bao Fu Trading Company, Vermillion Sand Mountain abandoned by the Xu Clan of Qingfeng City, along with Pincer Fish Ridge and Azure Haze Peak, and finally, the Sword Worship Terrace at the westernmost edge of the mountains. Chen Lingjun had assisted in acquiring Yellow Lake Mountain.

This marked the second “expansion” of Luopo Mountain. They now possessed eleven tributary peaks.

Later acquisitions, including Zhaodu Post, constituted the third recruitment.

The white-haired boy cautiously asked, “Hidden Officer, what is the current status of Baolu Mountain and those three peaks?”

Recently, the Dragon Spring Sword Sect had suddenly changed leaders, with Liu Xianyang replacing the original leader.

Chen Ping’an replied, “I spent twenty-seven Valley Rain Coins to lease the three peaks from the Dragon Spring Sword Sect for two hundred and seventy years.”

The white-haired boy rolled his eyes, finding this utterly pointless. Was that Ruan Qiong brain-addled?

No wonder Chen Lingjun always boasted of being kindred spirits with the Sage Ruan. They truly were cut from the same cloth.

Chen Ping’an rose. “Return to the shop in Qilong Lane. I will take a shortcut along the Dragon Beard River to Luopo Mountain.”

Chen Ping’an then walked upstream along the Dragon Beard River, passing the rocky cliff known locally as the Green Ox’s Back. He detoured, passing the untouched True Pearl Mountain, then hiked into the western mountains. He did not head directly back to Luopo Mountain, but instead made for Robe Sash Peak. A close neighbor was better than a distant relative. He would then descend the mountain to visit Pincer Fish Ridge and the Zhuchai Island. The Ink Dragon Boat and the store left behind by Bao Fu Trading Company at Cow Horn Ferry had been managed by Liu Chongrun and her disciples from Zhuchai Island.

Curiously, Chen Ping’an felt a greater connection to steady trickles of income, regardless of the sum.

However, Chen Ping’an had never mentioned this to anyone, because what would be the point? Everyone would just fawn over him.

But if Liu Xianyang heard this, he would surely laugh and tease, “You’re just scared by poverty! You have no sense of big money. You only think small money is real.”

In the early days in Treasure Bottle Continent, people often pointed to the history of Chen Ping’an. He went to the Northern Peak of Piyun Mountain and the Dragon Spring Sword Sect. In other words, he did not get around Wei Bo and Ruan Qiong.

The Northern Peak Piyun Mountain, to the west of the town, once had a total of sixty-two peaks.

The reason he stepped down from his position as the last sage of the dragon spring sword sect in Lizhu Cave Sky was so his disciple, Liu Xianyang, could take over.

Then, the Dragon Spring Sword Sect moved the Spirit Show Mountain. But the three peaks rented to Luopo Mountain remained. Outsiders speculated that it might be the Great Li Song Clan’s wish, not wanting the two sects to be too close, preventing a clash. Or, perhaps, there was some unknown rift between the two peaks. After all, if rumors were to be believed, Chen Ping’an, that rising star from Lizhu Cave Sky, had once worked as a laborer in the sword forging workshop by the Dragon Beard River. But he had neither attended the Dragon Spring Sword Sect’s celebration, nor Liu Xianyang’s inauguration. Likewise, Luopo Mountain did not invite the Dragon Spring Sword Sect.

Chen Ping’an arrived at the foot of a mountain. There was no mountain gate to display identity. There were few cultivators on Robe Sash Peak. It was used to remind cultivators not to wander around here without a reason. Guests were not welcome.

However, local people such as woodcutters and herb collectors were fine. Robe Sash Peak had become one of the few peaks in the western mountains where people from the town could still be seen.

The mountain was full of ancient trees, towering to the heavens. It was a very quiet and beautiful place.

Chen Ping’an had once wanted this mountain. But in the end, Chen Ping’an chose the latter between buying Robe Sash Peak and buying the Immortal Herb Mountain.

The Mountain Lord, Liu Hongwen, was a Golden Core Old Cultivator from the Yellow Millet Sect. By seniority, the old man was the Senior Martial Uncle of the current sect leader, Gao Zhen.

Back then, it was Liu Hongwen who was determined to buy the remaining Robe Sash Peak with the remaining bag of Golden Essence Copper Coins. He said he wanted to practice in peace here.

The old man’s granddaughter, Liu Runyun, raised a young white fox.

Liu Hongwen once led a group of direct disciples, including Song Yuan, to visit that young Mountain Lord.

The young Mountain Lord was often not at home and traveled outside all year round.

However, during festivals, a pink-skirted girl named Chen Nuan Shu, the little housekeeper on Luopo Mountain, would come to Robe Sash Peak on time, bringing gifts. First, a black charcoal girl would follow Chen Nuan Shu, and later, a black-clothed girl carrying a mountain walking stick and a golden shoulder pole. Later, the child named Pei Qian no longer followed, and Millet Rice did not climb the mountain.

The Yellow Millet Sect, originally a second-rate Immortal Mansion at the bottom of Treasure Bottle Continent, now had three Golden Core Land Immortals at the same time, Ancestor Liu Hongwen, Sect Leader Gao Zhen, and the newly-crowned Ancestral Hall Disciple.

As a result, the Yellow Millet Sect had firmly established itself in the forefront of Treasure Bottle Continent’s second-rate Immortal Mansion, with only one Nascent Soul cultivator missing.

The old immortal master held a yellow Yang wood spiritual mushroom in his hands and smiled to welcome him. He bowed, “Yellow Millet Sect Liu Hongwen, greets Mountain Lord Chen.”

Chen Ping’an returned the greeting with a bow, “This junior greets Immortal Master Liu.”

Liu Hongwen smiled. “Dare not, the mountain’s seniority is not determined by age. Mountain Lord Chen can simply address me as fellow Daoist.”

Chen Ping’an took the initiative to apologize. “I have rarely come to Robe Sash Peak to visit Immortal Master Liu over the years, which is indeed not appropriate.”

Liu Hongwen laughed it off. “It doesn’t matter. Mountain Lord Chen need not dwell on such matters. Because they are too close, as if only a few steps away, I don’t feel the need to rush to meet. In the secular world, regrets often arise. In the mountains, it is fine. If we meet often, we might run out of things to talk about. Next time, we would only say things like ‘the weather is good today,’ which would be awkward and unbeautiful. Mountain Lord Chen need not be deliberate in the future. You can do as usual. When you are free and have the mood, come to Robe Sash Peak for a walk.”

The old man spoke sincerely and casually.

Obviously, the Golden Core old cultivator did not take Chen Ping’an’s new identity too seriously. The friendship between gentlemen is as light as water.

The old cultivator’s residence had an open space in front of it, separated by a small river, with clear and slightly sweet water that could be used to make tea.

A bamboo fence surrounded the house, and more than a hundred plants of various colors were planted. The flowers bloomed and withered at different times, and the density was all emotionally appealing.

Each time the trumpet vine on the stone bloomed, it was as big as a bucket.

The corner of the wall had a yellow peony, with three trunks, and the branches and leaves were scattered above the eaves, which could shade the sun. During the hot summer, the shadow of the flowers spread on the ground, providing a cool shelter from the summer heat.

In Chen Ping’an’s eyes, Immortal Master Liu on Robe Sash Peak was a pure cultivator.

His cultivation level might not be too high, but he had always adhered to the principles of pure cultivation. In his eyes, there was no right or wrong.

Because of the opening ceremony, the old immortal master’s granddaughter, Liu Runyun, and her proud disciple, Song Yuan, had not returned to the mountain. They were probably traveling back to Cow Horn Ferry with Chen Lingjun and Guo Zhujiu on the ferry.

Liu Hongwen took out a pot of wine brewed in the mountain and two blue porcelain wine cups made in Longquan County.

The old immortal master first filled Chen Ping’an’s cup with wine and smiled. “We all drink on our own. If you think you have had enough, there is no need to force yourself.”

It seemed that the old man had learned many local customs and dialects from the town.

Chen Ping’an smiled and nodded, holding the cup with both hands. “For this first cup of wine, I have to make up for the courtesies I have neglected for many years. I offer a toast to the old immortal master.”

Liu Hongwen had to hold the cup with both hands. The two wine cups lightly touched, and the person offering the toast lowered his cup slightly. Each drank the wine in one gulp. Chen Ping’an helped fill it up. Liu Hongwen smiled. “I am grateful that Mountain Lord Chen was willing to take time out of his busy schedule to personally attend this opening ceremony of the Yellow Millet Sect, which gave me a great deal of face. This is what Sect Leader Gao replied in a letter not long ago. He said that he would bring a few ancestral hall offerings to visit me, his senior martial uncle, on Robe Sash Peak at the latest in late spring this year.”

Since they knew each other well, the old cultivator did not need to pretend to have a harmonious and harmonious relationship with Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Sect Leader Gao manages such a large sect. As the head of the ancestral hall, in addition to taking care of his own cultivation, he needs to weigh all aspects inside and out. It must not be easy. There are many things that he cannot do as he wants.”

Liu Hongwen said. “It seems that Mountain Lord Chen has a good impression of Gao Zhen.”

Chen Ping’an joked. “Those who need to ask for help often tend to sympathize with each other.”

Liu Hongwen seemed to have resolved his inner knot. Now, when he mentioned Gao Zhen, the senior martial nephew with whom he used to dislike, the old man no longer had any resentment in his heart. Therefore, he nodded and smiled when he heard this. “Gao Zhen is indeed the most suitable candidate for the position of sect leader. In this matter, I have never doubted my junior brother’s decision. If someone else were to become the sect leader, I don’t think I would come to Robe Sash Peak. I would only be worried, even if I knew I would be annoying, I would stay there and spout nonsense.”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “If you are too lazy to even scold, it would be truly disappointing.”

Liu Hongwen nodded. “That’s the way it is.”

After that, they drank on their own. After one pot of wine was finished, which was about half of the amount each, the old man went back to the house and brought another pot of wine, which was probably the real persuasion to drink.

The old immortal master took out a brocade box from his sleeve, placed it on the table, and opened it. It was a white jade poem tablet with a hole pierced by a vermillion silk thread, with a bead hanging on it. The old man gently pushed the brocade box to Chen Ping’an and smiled. “I can’t just drink wine and forget the main purpose. This is my gift to congratulate Luopo Mountain on becoming a sect. To be honest, I have always been reluctant to give it to Luopo Mountain. It is not that the gift itself is so precious, it is not worth a few immortal coins, but I really like it. The words on the poem jade tablet are well crafted, and the words are even better. Take it, hurry up, don’t say nonsense like ‘a gentleman does not take what others love’, and be polite to me…”

Before the old immortal master could continue, the young Mountain Lord thanked him and put it in his pocket.

Then, the young sword immortal began to ask about cultivation matters, and the old Golden Core answered with what was on his mind, taking advantage of the wine.

“May I ask, senior, what is cultivation?”

“Walk your own path, pass your own inner demons.”

“What is enlightenment?”

“Everyone is well. What does this sentence mean? It is not deliberately mystifying. It is just a common saying. It just means that there is a road to go out, a bridge to cross the water, you come and I go, and no one obstructs you.”

“Senior must have read many classics of the Three Religions, right?”

“Not much.”

“Then that means that senior has the demeanor of ancient sages, who understand what they read and never skim over it.”

“That is not an overstatement. Mountain Lord Chen is not bad either. If you don’t have some enlightenment when reading, how can you have today’s achievements? Others say that you are blessed, but I say that you cherish blessings.”

“Not as good as senior.”

“We are at most a hair’s breadth apart, so there is no need to be humble. I have a lot of books here, and you can borrow them at any time in the future.”

In the end, Immortal Master Liu brought another pot of wine.

In the end, Chen Ping’an was a little tipsy and walked down Robe Sash Peak with a flushed face.

Close the door to read books for many years, plant pine trees until they are old and their scales become like dragons, wave a brush to write like clouds and smoke, and do not argue over a few words. You must have thousands of years in your heart.

When Chen Ping’an arrived at Pincer Fish Ridge, he scooped up water from the stream at the foot of the mountain to wash his face.

That year, Liu Chongrun signed a mountain and water contract with Luopo Mountain, bringing twelve direct disciples from Shujian Lake and spending thirty Valley Rain Coins to lease Pincer Fish Ridge from Luopo Mountain for three hundred years.

This was naturally the result of Liu Chongrun’s crying poverty. Why would they be making a deal if they had the possibility of turning a profit from it?

Then, she spent her own money to hire Mo craftsmen and engineers to build a series of continuous residences, which were closely packed together like fish scales, so that whenever sunlight or moonlight shone, the ridges of the buildings on the mountain shone brightly. As a result, Pincer Fish Ridge had unintentionally become a scenic spot with a little fame.

In fact, there were only a few registered cultivators on Zhuchai Island at that time, and many houses were empty. Liu Chongrun did not care and was willing to spend a lot of money on this aspect, and was even more unwilling to rent out those buildings. In fact, many sects who owned mountain peaks here had earned a lot of immortal coins from this. Many Treasure Bottle Continent sects and registered cultivators were willing to pay a high rent to have a house in a mountain in the western mountains in name. Their children or mountain friends could have a place to stay when they came and went to travel, which was a matter of face.

At that time, Chen Ping’an was not in his hometown. Zheng Dafeng was still the gatekeeper. He complained to Liu Chongrun in person. Sister Chongrun, don’t do this next time, really, you will only bully kind and honest people like Dafeng brother. What is the matter? The buildings on the mountain are worth more than thirty Valley Rain Coins. You can cheat me of money, but you can’t hurt my heart.

What if I accidentally let a honest and responsible good man disappear from the world and create a wandering playboy? Who will be responsible? Sister Chongrun, if you are willing to be responsible, let’s get married today. I’ll pack my bags and go to Pincer Fish Ridge to live…

In fact, the handwriting of Luopo Mountain’s Chief Offering “Zhou Fatty” alone was far more than thirty Valley Rain Coins.

In the early years, Chief Zhou was rich and generous. He took out four mountain magic treasures of good quality as the treasures of Grey Mist Mountain, Vermillion Sand Mountain, Azure Haze Peak, and Pincer Fish Ridge. These treasures took root and were closely connected with the mountain roots and water transport. When Liu Chongrun salvaged the water palace of the old kingdom relics, they complemented each other, making the water transport of Pincer Fish Ridge even stronger.

Liu Chongrun planned to sign a new land deed with Luopo Mountain as soon as possible. Zhuchai Island wanted to renew the contract for… six hundred years on the basis of three hundred years!

Because according to the agreement in the first contract, after three hundred years, Zhuchai Island cultivators would move out of the mountain, but they could not take away those buildings. They could not dismantle the immortal wood used as beams, nor could they move the immortal flowers, plants and trees in the mountain. At that time, all of them would automatically be transferred to Luopo Mountain’s property.

There was no way, this contract was signed by Zhu Lian. The black and white characters were clearly written, one by one.

The Zhuchai Island female cultivator complained a lot about this that year. If the bookkeeper from Qingxia Island had come to discuss the deal with the island owner in person, how could he be so mean and calculating?

The Zhuchai Island female cultivators said privately, if it was not for Old Master’s words that Chen Ping’an and Luopo Mountain were a family, they would have taken Zhu Lian with them. The Zhuchai Island female cultivators said, but Zhu Lian has a backer, even the island lord and everyone in the sect were afraid of him.

If you add Zhuchai Island on Shujian Lake to Pincer Fish Ridge in Chuzhou, it is similar to the Yellow Millet Sect, with both uphill and downhill.

As a reward for helping to salvage the relics under the nose of the Great Li Dynasty, Liu Chongrun gave a dragon boat to Luopo Mountain, as well as a verbal promise of a 50-50 split.

As a treasure trove of the old kingdom, in addition to the water palace and dragon boat, there were actually many treasures hidden there. According to Zhu Lian’s estimation at the time, Liu Chongrun’s income should have been five or six hundred Valley Rain Coins. However, Zhu Lian deliberately turned a blind eye to this at the time, and Liu Chongrun was happy to go along with it and pretended that it didn’t happen. Later, Liu Chongrun was willing to take the initiative to serve as the manager of the Fanyi Dragon Boat, largely because of this matter, which was considered a reward and helped Zhuchai Island make up for the debt of gratitude.

The treasure water palace that was refined by the immortals was now placed by Liu Chongrun near the Treasure Pavilion of the ancestral hall.

Today, the young Mountain Lord of Luopo Mountain took the initiative to visit Pincer Fish Ridge, which seemed to be a rare event, mainly because Chen Ping’an was often away.

The happiest person was definitely not Liu Chongrun, who had been struggling with how to bring up the renewal of the contract, but the young female cultivators who were already familiar with the bookkeeper of Qingxia Island.

In recent years, Luopo Mountain had taken the initiative to show goodwill, allowing Liu Chongrun of Pincer Fish Ridge to select a few of her most trustworthy direct disciples with outstanding aptitude to go to the Lotus Root Blessed Land to practice quietly.

For a period of ten years, the water transport in the two blessed lands was so abundant that it was almost exaggerated. It was extremely suitable for cultivators who practiced water methods. It was simply the best training ground tailored for the Zhuchai Island cultivators. They naturally had great origins. One was part of the South Xun Water Palace given by Lord Ji Du Ling Yuan, Shen Lin, and the other was a stream given by Marquis Longting, Li Yuan.

Over the years, Liu Chongrun had become a Golden Core. It was difficult to go further.

The small sect did not have high requirements for the aptitude of the Daoist seedlings. As long as they had the hope of entering the Middle Fifth Realm, they would have found a treasure.

In addition, among Liu Chongrun’s direct disciples, there were many orphaned girls from the mountains who were taken up the mountain as maids. In name, they were maids, but in fact, they came to Pincer Fish Ridge to practice if they could. If they had the opportunity to join the lineage, girls who could not practice would receive a salary every month. If they had families and relatives outside the mountain, each person could get about dozens of taels of silver per month, which was an unimaginable good thing.

With nearly a hundred female cultivators and maids in various residences, Pincer Fish Ridge became even more lively.

Those who came from poverty might not necessarily treat others well after they made a fortune, and might even become worse.

However, Liu Chongrun was well-disciplined. She did not have high requirements for the Daoist aptitude of her disciples, but she cared extremely about their character. Therefore, there was no deception or concealment on Pincer Fish Ridge, and the sect style was very good.

Chen Ping’an walked on the mountain road. The gatekeeper female cultivator had already reported to the ancestral hall.

Seeing the figure in blue shirt, one after another, three female cultivators came, and said in unison: “Mr. Chen!”

They were still used to calling the other party Mr. Chen.

Chen Ping’an smiled and nodded. He remembered their names clearly, “Liu Xia, Guan Qing, Bai Que, hello.”

Of course, it was just because Chen Ping’an had a good memory.

The bookkeeper from Qingxia Island was famous for being insensitive. His words and actions were rigid and only spoiled the scenery.

In addition, in Shujian Lake, because of the ghost cultivator who carried meals, Chen Ping’an, who was acting as a lobbyist, was turned away from Zhuchai Island many times. He could not even see Island Lord Liu, let alone climb the mountain.

In fact, this matter was highly talked about among the women inside Zhuchai Island. Ha, our Zhuchai Island is a small sect, but our mountain gate has a big air! May I ask, which mountain in the world can stop Mr. Chen from climbing the mountain again and again? Is it Zhengyang Mountain? Or the Shentao Sect? It must not be possible or dare to do so.

However, Liu Chongrun was strict, and no one dared to spread it out, because once discovered, the island owner would directly remove them from the lineage and drive them down the mountain without any room for negotiation.

Chen Ping’an chatted with the three female cultivators for a few words and then said goodbye.

Every time he was turned away from Zhuchai Island, Chen Ping’an might still be ridiculed by Ma Yuanzhi in Zhu Xuan Mansion, Qingxia Island. They were both suffering and had suffered a loss in terms of looks. You have to swear to me, a friend’s wife cannot be bullied. Don’t be ugly and do strange things. Don’t have any bad intentions. I can’t use any unreasonable arguments with you. Even if Her Royal Highness the Princess has not been married into my house, she is also your future sister-in-law. When you see her, remember to keep your eyes in order and don’t look around.

When Mr. Chen walked away, Bai Que laughed loudly and stretched out her hand, “Loser, pay up!”

Liu Xia was Liu Chongrun’s second disciple, and Bai Que was the youngest disciple. That year, they had used Chen Ping’an as a bet, and as a result, Liu Xia lost ten snowflake coins. Bai Que was still as beautiful as a young girl. She was the only one who made money that year, because she was the only one who bet that Chen Ping’an could climb the mountain. The victory took all!

Chen Ping’an stopped and turned around.

The laughter stopped immediately.

After all, today was different from the past. Mr. Chen had more identities, and each one was more frightening than the last. The Mountain Lord of Luopo Mountain, the closed-door disciple of the Literary Saint, Cui Qian of Xiu Hu’s youngest junior brother, Ning Yao, the number one swordsman of the Colorful World’s Daoist partner, the peak martial artist who had asked for boxing with Cao Ci, the Jade Pure Realm sword immortal in his forties… The things they could do in the past could no longer be done today, especially in person, which was a bit inappropriate. As a result, they were caught in the act.

Chen Ping’an stood there and joked with a smile. “Guan Qing, listen to my advice. First, don’t bet money with Junior Sister Bai Que. She has good gambling luck. Second, even if you really want to bet money, don’t bet with Senior Sister Liu Xia. Whatever Senior Sister bets on, you should bet against her.”

They were speechless for a moment.

When the green shirt walked away, the three close-knit sisters laughed suddenly.

Mr. Chen, who was rigid in character, was very funny when he became humorous.

Bai Que raised her hand and waved, and said to herself: “Handsome!”

That year, there was a girl who made so much money that she could barely hold it in her hands. She thanked the young bookkeeper’s back with a smile. The man in the blue cotton coat did not turn his head, but just raised his hand and waved, probably to indicate that she did not need to be polite.

Bai Que clenched her hands into fists and shook them, full of snowflake coins. She said happily: “Ha, we can’t let Master know about this.”

Making money was happy, but being reunited with Mr. Chen, who was still “the same”, seemed to be even happier.

“Why are we afraid of Master, but not Mr. Chen?”

“I think that even if Mr. Chen’s realm is higher in the future, we will still not be afraid of him when we meet again.”

“Is it because Mr. Chen and us are from poor backgrounds, so he doesn’t have any airs with us, and he is not the kind of person who pretends to be approachable?”

“But not everyone who becomes rich will be like this. Speaking of Shujian Lake, how many people have turned their backs on others after their realm has increased? Aren’t they more fierce and ruthless when they insult others? We can’t even think of the means. We can’t even think of what they can’t think of. Now that we are so far away from Shujian Lake, we still feel scared when we think about it.”

“Why is that?”

“Because Mr. Chen is a good person by nature.”

“I can’t believe you can think of such a reason… but when I think about it carefully, it seems to be true.”

The ancestral hall of Zhuchai Island is called Treasure Pavilion.

Liu Chongrun stood alone at the door, waiting for Chen Ping’an to appear.

She had high hair, a full body, a square forehead and a broad face.

Liu Chongrun habitually narrowed her long and narrow phoenix eyes, watching the