The gates to the celestial realms, where the enshrined Sages and Worthies of the Literary Temple held dominion, were separate and distinct. Thus, Chen Ping’an and his companions were forced to journey once more beyond the heavens, only to re-enter the Vast Azure World through the portal leading to Treasure Bottle Continent.

Now upon the skies of Treasure Bottle Continent, there was no need for haste. They descended towards the Great Li Prefecture of Chu, each step akin to a gentle fall down a flight of ethereal stairs.

They gazed upon the land below, where the clouds danced in azure skies and the water shimmered within unseen vessels.

The sprightly Xie Gou, with a bounce in her step, turned to look at Xiao Mo. “Xiao Mo, in truth, that attire should appear rustic, yet upon you, it is different. You are comely indeed, so much so that it calls to mind a verse, ‘Before me lies a sight beyond all words!’”

Xiao Mo remained silent.

Xie Gou strutted with a swagger, mimicking the shoulder-rolling gait of a mountain spirit. “With yellow cap, green shoes, and emerald staff, the Sword Immortal treads through the clouds of Longtou.”

Having spent so long at Fallen Peak, she had absorbed its customs and embraced its spirit.

Xiao Mo, though, merely endured.

Xie Gou, as if struck by sudden inspiration, continued, “Three thousand years I’ve sought a swordsman true, the withered tree blooms anew. Since first I saw the plum in flower, doubt has fled, and faith does tower!”

Chen Ping’an chuckled. “Why not ‘ten thousand years’ to start?”

Xie Gou scoffed. “Could ‘three thousand years’ be bettered?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “Perhaps not. It seems verse-making is a craft in which you have become quite adept, Xie Gou.”

Xie Gou placed her hands behind her back and spoke slowly. “Life is brief as a spring dream, cast down your hairpin at the mountain’s edge, retrieve a hairpin by the water’s brink. Mark well the difference, friends, observe with clarity, and know thyself.”

Chen Ping’an was silent for a moment, feeling somewhat overwhelmed. “Xiao Mo, just be yourself from now on.”

Xiao Mo hesitated. “Bai Jing’s sour lines are better than doggerel, at least.”

Walking between them, Chen Ping’an raised both hands, giving each a thumbs-up. “The two of you, a match made in heaven.”

Suddenly, Xie Gou said, “It seems that Li Xi-Sheng is on his way here.”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “You two can head back to Fallen Peak. I’ll speak with him and then go directly to the village school.”

Before being summoned by Chen Ping’an, Xie Gou had secretly left a “greeting gift” at the Lu Clan’s Observatory and the Angelica Sinensis Bureau.

No sooner had they departed, perhaps half an incense stick’s worth of time later, than the Lu Clan Estate was seized by such an immense, cataclysmic upheaval that they likely found themselves scrambling to contain the damage, the cost of which would be a sizable sum of Grain Rain coin.

Shortly after Xiao Mo and Xie Gou rode the winds towards Fallen Peak, Li Xi-Sheng appeared near Chen Ping’an, smiling. “Chen Ping’an,” he began directly, “the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis bid me give you word. Cease your speculations. He did indeed dwell in Mud Bottle Lane during his travels through Luminous Pearl Grotto-Heaven. It was not long, merely a few years. As for the events that followed, that, he says, was ‘of your own making’.”

Li Xi-Sheng smiled. “Fear not, the Sage used the term ‘of your own making’ in a laudatory sense.”

Chen Ping’an breathed a sigh of relief.

“From a geographical perspective,” Li Xi-Sheng continued, “you are indeed neighbors. However, with so many years between, there is little in the way of shared lineage. You may set your mind at ease.”

At last, Chen Ping’an had verified one of his suspicions.

Li Xi-Sheng spoke in a hushed tone, “I have but a single conjecture, Chen Ping’an, take it as you will. Did you know that the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis once attempted to establish a new set of Rites for the Vast Azure World, in concert with the Ritual Sage?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “The Master mentioned it. I am aware of some of the details.”

There was a time when mankind hoped to see the rise of a “Lord of Humanity.”

Li Xi-Sheng glanced at Chen Ping’an and nodded. Knowing he possessed the truth, he changed the subject. “You have heard of the hardships of the Leap Month Peak, no doubt?”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Master Lu spoke of him often, with envy in his voice.”

“The trials of the martial artists of Azure Darkness World are akin to the fleeting moments of the Wildlands.”

Li Xi-Sheng continued, “Every world has such a being. Our own in Vast Azure World, however, did not agree with the Ritual Sage’s approach. Thus, the new Rites could not be established.”

Chen Ping’an offered no opinion, hesitant to pass judgment.

After a moment’s hesitation, Chen Ping’an said cautiously, “Zhong Kui?”

If Chen Ping’an, the last Hidden Official of Sword Qi Great Wall, was a variable,

then Twofold Leaf Continent had two, one hidden and one overt: the menial disciple of the Fuzhi Sect and the gentleman of the Great Hidden Academy, Zhong Kui.

Chen Ping’an wondered if Zhong Kui was among the disciples of the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis.

Li Xi-Sheng smiled. “Since we are indulging in conjecture, why not be bolder?”

Chen Ping’an was shocked. “Zhong Kui is one of the Sage’s myriad incarnations?!”

He had, at most, suspected Zhong Kui to be the reincarnation of a direct disciple of the Sage.

As Lu Chen had said, were the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis to make more frequent appearances, every errant spirit-immortal that broke the “ancient heavenly laws” would be slain.

This unassuming Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis maintained great secrecy in matters of personal cultivation, discipleship, and inheritance of his legacy.

Feng Yi, the goddess dwelling in the Capital’s Fire God Temple, had previously revealed some heavenly secrets to Chen Ping’an, speaking of one direct disciple and two younger, unnamed disciples.

The “documented” direct disciple was Qing Jun, whose domain was located on Square Pillar Mountain. The ancient Three Mountains were even more revered than the Five Peaks of Vast Azure Central Continent, including Mount Suī.

One of the two unnamed disciples, the Taoist Wang Min, was an alchemist of the same era as Bai Ye who had been dispatched on a celestial mission to seek immortality.

The other, the swordsman Lu Yue, rose and fell quickly within the Vast Azure World.

The ancient heavenly driver, once of the Thunder Department, had mentioned the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis to Chen Ping’an in the Capital, saying that the Sage had once resided in Luminous Pearl Grotto-Heaven, though the duration was unknown. One thing was certain: Fortune and Prosperity Street and Peach Leaf Lane owed their existence to him.

Fortune and Prosperity Street was, naturally, the street of talismans. The peach blossoms of Peach Leaf Lane were planted by the Sage himself.

In fact, the three kinds of refined copper coins minted by the Great Li Dynasty were based on die patterns gifted by the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis.

Lu Yue, the swordsman, came from the Lu Clan of Fortune and Prosperity Street, a clan intertwined with the Lu Dynasty. They had escaped being implicated in the Lu Dynasty’s downfall, likely due to his connection to the Sage. Chen Ping’an suspected that Lu Yue, though seemingly a fleeting presence with little mountain lore, was likely still alive, though perhaps having undergone a disincarnation. He might have retained memories of his past life through some secret art, which was why the Great Li Court was wary of exterminating the Lu Clan of Fortune and Prosperity Street.

Li Xi-Sheng sighed. “To dare storm the Lu Clan’s grounds in Central Continent, and yet, Mountain Lord Chen has so little daring?”

Chen Ping’an paused, looking at Li Xi-Sheng, who nodded slightly. His guess was right.

But not entirely.

Li Xi-Sheng asked, “Do you recall how you met Liu Xianyang?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. Liu Xianyang had been chased to Mud Bottle Lane by a group of peers. These young nobles had been reckless and brutal, nearly beating Liu Xianyang to death.

The ringleader was a scion of the Lu Clan of Fortune and Prosperity Street, now seeking fortune and advancement in Clear Breeze City.

Li Xi-Sheng smiled. “If my deduction is correct, Lu Yue’s reincarnation is that person in white.”

Bai Shang, the foremost swordsman of Northern Ju-Lu Continent?!

In that case, Xu Xuan was a disciple of the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis’ legacy! No wonder Xu Xuan was so unbridled in his actions, daring to act with impunity in Northern Ju-Lu Continent.

Chen Ping’an took a piece of paper from his sleeve and handed it to Li Xi-Sheng.

Li Xi-Sheng received it and smiled. “Undoubtedly authentic. Treasure it well.”

The Lu Clan of Fortune and Prosperity Street had once given Empress Nan Zan, then of Great Li, several pages of ancient books that had been passed down through generations.

One page seemed to record a simple technique for passing through walls.

“Heaven and earth are connected, mountains and cliffs linked, as soft as apricot blossom, as thin as paper. I point with my sword, to swiftly open the door. By the command of the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis.”

Nan Zan, or rather, Lu Jiang of the Lu Clan’s genealogy of the Central Continent’s Yin-Yang school, had not grasped the value of this page at the time, as she had not yet used the String of Spiritual Rhinoceros Beads, and the Great Li Emperor had restrained her.

As they chatted while “descending the mountain,” the Great Li Prefecture of Chu spread before them. Only their hometown, however, remained shrouded in mist.

He had last met Zhi Gui at the site of an old Grand Canal Dragon Palace in Twofold Leaf Continent.

He had asked her if she knew the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis. Though Zhi Gui had given no direct answer, it was clear she both hated and feared him.

The iron-locked well was the “lingering breath” of the True Dragon King Zhu, the source of her connection to the outside world.

Pearl Mountain, where the small town bordered the Western Mountain, was where the Dragon held the “Luminous Pearl”. Dragon Whisker Stream and the town’s main street were the hidden and overt Dragon Whiskers. Fortune and Prosperity Street and Peach Leaf Lane were the Dragon’s Neck and the Dragon’s Spine, respectively. Every mansion on the street was a talisman, their sizes carefully calculated. The roots of every peach tree in Peach Leaf Lane were like nails imprisoning the dragon. Fortune and Prosperity Street suppressed the qi node at the Dragon’s Neck to prevent it from “raising its head,” while Peach Leaf Lane restrained the Dragon’s Spine, preventing its body from moving.

The dozens of Dragon Kilns for firing porcelain, said to burn for a thousand years without ceasing, were, for Wang Zhu, an ordeal, as if immersed in an oil cauldron. Thus, every time the town’s kiln workers opened a kiln to fire porcelain, it was like pouring boiling water into the cauldron, a “karmic fire” constantly scorching Wang Zhu’s soul.

This talismanic method was not merely suppressing a single True Dragon, but suppressing the entire Draconic fortune of the mortal world.

One misstep could cause a wild backlash against the instigator. The cultivator’s fear of entanglement with mundane karma was no empty phrase.

Li Xi-Sheng explained, “This long and cruel torture was also a forced tempering for Wang Zhu. Only by enduring it could she be reborn. Only then, could she regain her freedom.”

“The town was not always the four clans and ten lineages. The alchemists who first settled in this ancient battlefield, their lineages diverging. Over time, their influence waxed and waned. For example, a clan might fall into decline, forced to sell its ancestral property and move to places like Two Sons Lane or Apricot Blossom Lane. With each change of property lines, it was as if a talisman had loosened slightly. This was Wang Zhu’s hope. She endured the ages, through one trial after another.”

“Qi Jingchun took pity on her and offered her protection.”

“But Wang Zhu was yet to fully awaken and was unaware of his kindness.”

“Therefore, Master Qi, and you, her neighbor, are special in Wang Zhu’s eyes.”

Li Xi-Sheng paused and extended his hand. “Do you have wine?”

Chen Ping’an smiled and produced two gourds of wine. He sat cross-legged and clinked gourds with Li Xi-Sheng, each taking a drink.

Any grand cultivator passing through the old Dragon Prefecture could discern some of its mysteries, depending on their level and insight.

Xiao Mo, for example, could sense that the remnants of Luminous Pearl Grotto-Heaven, diminished to a blessed land, gave the illusion of facing a fourteenth realm sword cultivator.

Thus, when Chen Ping’an first mentioned his idea for two flying swords, Xiao Mo suggested studying the town’s landscape, which would be like seeking guidance from the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis. The town was full of hidden secrets, like a wordless Taoist tome. It was similar to the first patriarch of the Military School’s eleventh realm fist, the manual for which was embedded in the mountains and rivers within Chen Ping’an’s personal world.

Chen Ping’an had declined, saying, “I cannot yet make a flower bloom within my small world, let alone replicate this great formation. It is too ambitious.”

“But it points to the way forward. At worst, I will spend time, dismantling it piece by piece.”

The formation expert Liu Jinglong had realized long ago that the town itself was a treasure trove, a book of the Tao.

The Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis was the founder of the talisman school, and at least half of the 72 talismanic methods originated with him.

Chen Ping’an thought and pulled out a scroll from his heart-lake, a painting combining color and monochrome, like a passing image of time.

The colored parts depicted scenes Chen Ping’an remembered vividly, while the monochrome and rough parts represented blurred memories.

Li Xi-Sheng took the scroll and scanned it. “Is this the Valley of Ghosts in Northern Ju-Lu Continent?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. During his first visit to the Valley of Ghosts in the Skeleton Coast, he had met Yang Ningzhen at Treasure Mirror Mountain. The latter, then a golden-bodied martial artist, had spent years seeking the Mirror of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis. After obtaining it, however, Yang Ningzhen had given it to his younger brother, Yang Ningxing, the “Little Heavenly Lord,” who was now cultivating at the Jade Capital.

On the Night Voyage Ship, Wu Shuangjiang had mentioned that Wei She, once the peerless cultivator of Snowy Continent, had attempted to attain the fourteenth realm after reaching the Ascension Realm. After the first attempt failed, the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis had personally made a trip to Snowy Continent. According to Wu Shuangjiang, it was a deliberate act to make room for Wei She, but Wei She failed to seize the opportunity. After two failed attempts, Wei She seemed to lose the will to try a third time.

Li Xi-Sheng returned the scroll to Chen Ping’an, unable to contain his amusement. “Now I understand why the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis said, ‘Do not be constrained, feel free.’ He was referring to your approach. All my deductions have been a mess.”

Chen Ping’an chuckled self-deprecatingly. “I have so few clues about him. If I use Tian Wan of Vermilion Peak as an anchor for the river of time and build upon that, it would be a mistake from the start. I thought it best to choose an alchemist with connections to the town who is also of sufficient stature as a reference, to avoid being swept away by the waves caused by his magic.”

Even with Li Xi-Sheng present, Chen Ping’an dared not speak the name “Zou Zi.”

In the heavens, Chen Ping’an had nearly mentioned it several times but dared not speak, fearing a negative answer from the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis.

It would mean he would have to start over, finding someone else. Lu Chen, of course, was out of the question.

Those who spoke of the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis had an innate respect for him.

Even Lu Chen, who had little respect for anything, held him in reverence when mentioning him, despite having boasted to Lü Yan that all Taoist arts originated with the Taoist Ancestor, were passed to his elder brother, and would flourish with Lu Chen, who would return them to the world.

There was one exception, though.

Zheng Dafeng, the first gatekeeper of Fallen Peak.

Zou Zi had sold candied haws in Apricot Blossom Lane during his travels in Luminous Pearl Grotto-Heaven. Tian Wan, the master of Vermilion Peak and his junior, had secretly entered the town and found the old man who ran the Happiness Shop, Cai Daohuang, the grandfather of Hu Feng. His true identity was the former owner of all match-making shops. He held only half of the Book of Fate, which had somehow fallen into Liu Qi’s hands and been taken to Azure Darkness World. Still, Tian Wan had obtained a batch of red threads used to control people’s hearts and guide the flow of Treasure Bottle Continent’s sword fortune, as a means of tempering her own Tao.

Bai Shang, Lu Yue’s past self, was from Luminous Pearl Grotto-Heaven of Treasure Bottle Continent.

The heads of the Sword Dao of the two Continents, one overt and one hidden?

The red thread could not be refined or replicated, which was why Zheng Dafeng had said, “Even the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis, with his heaven-piercing magic, cannot replicate it.”

Zheng Dafeng seemed to be recalling some old events when saying this.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Is Liu Qi hoping to gather the Book of Fate to attain the Tao?”

Li Xi-Sheng nodded. “The lower half is in the hands of Zhao Ge, the Primordial Goddess of Marriage, whose Taoist name is Fu Kan.”

Li Xi-Sheng then said, “Qi River crucian carp is delicious, no less than Apricot Blossom perch of Jumping Wave River. You must try it.”

Chen Ping’an nodded.

Li Xi-Sheng took a sip of wine. “What are your thoughts after journeying beyond the heavens?”

Chen Ping’an thought of the words etched on the Sword Qi Great Wall. The horizontal line was like a mountain path. After a moment, he said, “It is as if there are nets throughout the heavens, widely spaced. Mortals are like small fish, darting through the gaps, seeming to come and go freely, even using the lines as resting places. But cultivators are like large fish. The higher their level, the larger they become, unable to pass through the nets. They can only break free by force, becoming terrestrial immortals or attaining the fourteenth realm.”

“A kindred spirit.”

Li Xi-Sheng smiled knowingly, placed down his wine gourd, and took out a rope ring. He tied many knots in it. “Before disincarnating at Jade Capital’s Green Jade City, I thought this was the world we lived in.”

“But then I thought that the mortal world was a book, with a fundamental text that we do not possess.”

“Someone could pull out a single page and create a whole new story. Reading is like a tree, turning the pages is like taking shade.”

Chen Ping’an asked, “And now?”

Li Xi-Sheng shook his head smiling, “I have no clue.”

Chen Ping’an shook his gourd. He had finished one gourd of wine without realizing it. He took out another. Li Xi-Sheng waved his hand. “You drink. I cannot hold my liquor. I seldom drink.”

If human relationships are fickle and the world full of treacherous roads, then one could find refuge in wine, and in the intoxication of the drunken village.

Li Xi-Sheng watched Chen Ping’an drink. He could not imagine the boy from Mud Bottle Lane becoming such a heavy drinker. He asked smiling, “Have you decided how to temper the two flying swords?”

Chen Ping’an wiped his mouth. “Besides feeding them refined copper coins, I need to keep adding to them.”

“Buddhism speaks of a dust mote containing countless worlds. Taoism speaks of one and all. Different paths, same destination.”

Li Xi-Sheng nodded. “A caged sparrow encompasses the universe. The moon in a well holds a river of time. Gather a thousand small worlds.”

For example, Chen Ping’an planned to buy rare phoenix tree leaves from Qing Tong, a guest elder of Green Ripple Sword Sect.

He was not optimistic. Qing Tong would likely refuse to sell them, at most, gifting a few to be rid of him.

Chen Ping’an hoped for at least three leaves, more would be better.

As for how to repay Qing Tong, it was not difficult. As neighbors, they would have many chances to interact.

Chen Ping’an could tell that Qing Tong wanted to establish a sect but was hesitant to mention it to the Literary Temple.

Earlier, at Seven Mile Beach with Cao Yong, he had, with the Grand Canal’s agreement, extracted the poetic content recorded in the local gazetteer, totaling hundreds of thousands of words, and turned it into a golden river flowing into his sleeve.

Furthermore, Chen Ping’an had obtained a book at a Northern Ju-Lu Continent Immortal Abode that no one had cared about, containing stories of joys and sorrows, of different lives.

Reading at night is a joy.

As a teacher, Chen Ping’an wrote mountain and water stories of the young wanderer and the mute lake monster.

He believed it would surprise Little Rice Grain, like watching a living, breathing reflection in a mirror.

Only the small mountain of the Bamboo House lineage could watch with Little Rice Grain.

Unlike the unlearned Silver Deer, who found writing too difficult, Chen Ping’an found it more difficult to have the patience to read a book.

Li Xi-Sheng said, “Chen Ping’an, we share a surname.”

They both were named Chen, yet shared the surname but not the hometown.

Chen Ping’an was from Luminous Pearl Grotto-Heaven, but Li Xi-Sheng’s ancestors were from Northern Ju-Lu Continent.

Chen Ping’an nodded. He knew this already.

The three siblings: Li Bao-Ping, Li Bao-Zhen, and Li Xi-Sheng, the eldest.

Li Xi-Sheng stood up, the breeze blowing past him. “An ancient poem says, ‘Why hide your name when you’ve achieved success? I’m no thief, who walks by night.'”

Chen Ping’an said, “I should write that down.”

They strolled side by side, the celestial winds cool and refreshing, their hearts at peace.

Li Xi-Sheng, recalling his past life, missed his two junior brothers at the Jade Capital.

Chen Ping’an worried about A Liang and his elder brother, Zuo You.

He was not overly worried, knowing that the outcome would not be the best, but certainly not the worst.

Fei Ran and Chu Sheng had appeared in the Wildlands, yet there was no news of them.

Zheng Jizhong had given a strange explanation, “One long ago, and one far in the future.”

Chen Ping’an had only been brothers with Zuo You during their time at Sword Qi Great Wall.

Though Zuo You had taught him swordsmanship, Chen Ping’an could sense that his elder brother did not consider him a swordsman.

Zuo You was like a scholar dedicated to the three imperishable acts of a scholar: establish virtue, perform good works, and produce lasting writings.

Chen Ping’an had always been curious but dared not ask due to his elder brother’s temperament.

Later, Chen Ping’an could not resist asking what his elder brother’s natal sword was called.

Zuo You had frowned and silenced Chen Ping’an with one sentence.

“Why did you not ask when the Master was here?”

Chen Ping’an dared not ask further.

Chen Ping’an shuddered, then relaxed as Li Xi-Sheng bid farewell and left for Twofold Leaf Continent.

Xiao Mo landed in the small town, followed by the puzzled Xie Gou. “Are we not returning to Fallen Peak?”

Xiao Mo said, “Let’s get some midnight snacks at a roadside stall before we return.”

Xie Gou frowned.

Xiao Mo chose a night market stall on the town’s main street, sat down, and ordered two bowls of pork and shepherd’s purse wontons. She took out a pair of chopsticks from the bamboo holder and handed them to Xie Gou before asking softly, “When will you return to the Wildlands?”

Xie Gou was silent, wiping the chopsticks with her sleeve.

The stall owner brought two bowls of steaming wontons. Xiao Mo picked up a pair of chopsticks and said, “Eat it while it’s hot.”

Xie Gou impaled a wonton with each chopstick, shoving them into her mouth, cheeks puffed out. So terrible, I shouldn’t have to pay.

Xiao Mo chewed slowly. “I know that you have not separated your soul. You have always been you, always been Bai Jing.”

The so-called Xie Gou was a clumsy disguise.

Xie Gou expressionlessly acknowledged what Xiao Mo said.

Xiao Mo continued, “If it is an accommodation, I do not think it necessary. If it is a playful pose, you can keep it up.”

Xie Gou asked, “Which do you find more pleasing?”

“In truth, neither.”

Xiao Mo, as always, was honest. After a pause, she said smiling, “But I admire Bai Jing, who always seemed to be running forward, a million years ago and still is.”

She remembered her first time seeing Bai Jing: a swordsman surrounded, her sword sharp, standing over the body of a god she had slain. The tall woman with her hair in a ponytail around her neck, looking up and muttering. Then, she flashed away, her sword leaving an arc of light across the sky, and the ground shook with thunder.

Xie Gou looked complicated. Xiao Mo’s second half of the sentence made her uneasy. She picked up the bowl and drank some of the broth.

The wontons were bad, but the soup was good.

She would pay a few extra coins when she settled the bill.

Xie Gou said sullenly, “I don’t know how to love someone.”

This terrible business was harder than swordsmanship.

It was not easy for Xie Gou to admit she was bad at something.

Xiao Mo said, “Do not be vexed. Think about my feelings.”

Xie Gou smiled, and Xiao Mo settled the bill. She did not try to pay it herself.

Walking down the street, Xie Gou began swaggering again. “Xiao Mo, it would be good if we had a daughter, like Little Rice Grain. We would protect her and watch her grow.”

Xiao Mo was speechless and managed to say, “Whatever makes you happy.”

The girl in the mink hat jumped ahead in an imaginary hopscotch. “Happy, happy!”

Xiao Mo remembered her first time seeing Bai Jing.

But she did not know when Bai Jing had first seen her.

Their first formal meeting was when Bai Jing had straightforwardly challenged her to a sword match, followed by becoming partners. Looking at the clueless Xiao Mo, Bai Jing had added that whoever won the sword match could take advantage of the other!

Outside of the heavens, Master Lu watched the spectacle from afar and lazed about, floating and swimming on his back.

Then, the heel of a Taoist priest was about to land on his face.

Lu Chen ducked his head and avoided the foot, righting himself with a smile. “Greetings, Uncle Bi Xiao.”

The old Daoist priest scoffed, “What is there to see in a spectacle with a foregone conclusion?”

The Wildlands had no intention of fighting a mutual destruction war with Vast Azure World.

Otherwise, Bai Ze would not have watched the two “ferries” merge.

Zhou Mi was deliberately making things difficult for the Literary Temple, preventing the Ritual Sage from filling the vacancy left by the scattering of the Ultimate Sage.

Lu Chen looked dazed, speechless.

Uncle Bi Xiao was strict with others and lenient with yourself.

The old Daoist priest said, “I am here to see an old friend. It is not the same as you.”

Lu Chen grumbled, “Little Xiao Mo should have come to see his Uncle-Master. Friendship across worlds means nothing? If I greeted him at the gate, who could stop me?”

The old Daoist priest said, “Remember your words, Lu Chancellor.”

Lu Chen said, “Xiao Mo can come visit. Just meet Uncle-Master then leave quietly. That’s best.”

The old Daoist priest said, “Lü Yan’s achievement will be great.”

Lu Chen nodded vigorously. “It was an honor to travel with Pure Yang friend in Azure Darkness World.”

The old Daoist priest smiled. “Once Bai Jing reaches the fourteenth realm, she will be a force to be reckoned with.”

Lu Chen continued to nod.

Good, good, the more powerful, the better. I am happy.

The old Daoist priest said coldly, “Having seen Chen Ping’an’s two flying swords, and that final sword attack, you must feel cold shivers down your spine?”

Lu Chen stroked his chin and began to speak nonsense. “Fortunately, Chen Ping’an and I are close friends. We only drink when we meet. We will not fight.”

Lu Chen had rushed back to Azure Darkness World because Chen Ping’an had not contacted Zheng Jizhong and Wu Shuangjiang, narrowly escaping an ambush.

He still felt lingering fear. If they had surrounded him, it would have been no joke.

The Third Chancellor of the Jade Capital had gone over the events with the old Daoist priest, who had said that the key was to restrain Lu Chen’s dreams and mind-images.

There was no shortcut to dealing with a fourteenth realm cultivator. Like Zhou Mi’s siege against Bai Ye in Soaring Continent, they had to exhaust his poems. Until then, Bai Ye would be unbeatable.

Lu Chen knew that Chen Ping’an led the attack, but the real mastermind was Embroidered Tiger.

It was no surprise that Cui Chan had learned ancient “mountain sealing” techniques from the Sage of Three Mountains and Nine Marquis. With Cui Chan’s mind, it was only natural that he would come up with new ways to apply it. Once Cui Chan and Zheng Jizhong had exchanged Taoist arts, and the latter had mastered them, with Chen Ping’an initiating, the sword cultivators following up, and Zheng Jizhong and Wu Shuangjiang finishing, they could trap all of Lu Chen’s mind-images.

The old Daoist priest had said sarcastically, “Two White Emperor City Zheng Jizhong, and one Year-End Palace Wu Shuangjiang are three fourteenth realm cultivators. Plus Qi Tingji, Ning Yao, Hao Su, Lu Zhi, and Chen Ping’an. Such a large group, just to deal with one fourteenth realm. Lu Chen, you should be proud.”

Lu Chen had turned away, squeezed out a smile, and said, “Ha, ha, ha,” three times.

The old Daoist priest glanced at Lu Chen. No matter how disdainful he was of the Third Chancellor of the Jade Capital, he had to admit that Lu Chen’s talent for cultivation was unmatched.

Lu Chen was one of the few who could say their heart-tao was the heart of heaven.

For thousands of years, aside from sneaky fourteenth realm cultivators like Lu Fayan and the demon Chu Sheng, the female Daoist Wu Zhou who concealed her whereabouts, and Bai Ze “imprisoned” in the Majestic Town Tower, the four most renowned “fighters” were Bai Ye, the strongest killer even though he was not purely a sword cultivator,

the master of Azure Cloud Cave in Fallen Treasure Beach, and later of the Eastern Sea Observation Temple, who had the highest Tao,

the old blind man of Ten Thousand Mountains who commanded golden-armored giants, whose identity was a mystery and whose cultivation was unfathomable,

and the monk Shen Qing, also called Chicken Soup Monk, with the strongest defense, known as the first “unbreakable body.”

Someone had claimed that any other Ascension realm sword cultivator could hack at him for three days and nights, and it would only tickle him.

However, no one knew how the old Daoist priest and the old blind man had attained the Tao.

Because someone had called him “half a fourteenth realm cultivator’s killing power and one-and-a-half a fourteenth realm cultivator’s defense,”

It equaled two fourteenth realm cultivators.

The Chicken Soup Monk was the most amazing of the fourteenth realm cultivators.

This had caused an uproar, and people had been constantly challenging the monk. Even a monk with a good temper could not endure such harassment. The monk had finally found an opportunity to catch the one who had spoken of the matter, demanding that he clear things up through various gazettes and tell the world.

Unsurprisingly, they had not reached an agreement.

The monk had “praised” the person instead.

“A Liang, is your arithmetic so strong? Did you eat books at the Asura’s Palace?”

The shameless one was delighted, crossing his arms.

The old Daoist priest asked, “Have you thought about the world a million years from now?”

Lu Chen retorted, “Is that something that is worth thinking about?”

The old Daoist priest said, “Then open your eyes and look at what is in front of you?”

Lu Chen said smiling, “It seems even less interesting.”

When the three Taoist Founders scattered their cultivation, they would have to select the world’s ten heroes. The results would be clear, with little dissent.

They would just have to select the best from the fourteenth realm.

The Ritual Sage, Yu Dou the Taoist Second, Lu Chen, Bai Ze returning to the Wildlands, the Patriarch of Military School who had ended his long imprisonment.

The Azure Cloud Cave Master, the monk Shen Qing, the old blind man of Ten Thousand Mountains, Zheng Jizhong of White Emperor City, and the female Daoist Wu Zhou, named “Tai Yin.”

For replacements, it would get tricky with just four or five more, especially with a longer timeline. The variables would be significant.

Sun Huaizhong of the Azure Capital, Wu Shuangjiang of the Year-End Palace, who were at odds with Jade Capital.

The Taoist immortal, Lü Yan.

Bai Ye of the Azure Capital, who could also earn a seat even though he was in the Jade Purity Realm.

Furthermore, the Three Pure Martial Artists, Lin Jiangxian, Cao Ci, Xin Ku.

Ning Yao of Five Colored World and Fei Ran of the Wildlands, the legitimate rulers of their respective worlds.

Wildland’s Nameless, Bai Jing, Hao Su, Lu Zhi, Zhang Fenghai, Xu Juan, and others.

An unprecedented struggle.

The younger generation had an opportunity to gain an advantage.

Lu Chen wore a lotus crown with his hands in his sleeves. He asked, “What if I reached the fifteenth pseudo-realm?”

The old Daoist priest laughed. “Easy to say.”

Lu Chen smiled. “Uncle-Master, no need to say it. I have no friends otherwise.”

The old Daoist priest said, “I am unworthy of a word, since I have spent years unable to get to the fifteenth realm.”

Lu Chen immediately corrected, “Pseudo-realm!”

The old Daoist priest said, “So many omissions.”

Lu Chen was confused. “Can the idiom be used this way?”

The old Daoist priest was indifferent.

Lu Chen stretched. There were things to do at the Jade Capital.

The old Daoist priest asked, “When the Buddha pulled you into that indescribable world, what did you see? How long, did you feel, did you spend there?”

Lu Chen regained his composure. “I did see many worlds. One barrier after another, one field after another. But there’s no way to cross the gap between the crops of rice or weeds… If it’s accepted that the inductive method of the rooftop pavilion is a minor art, then the seemingly step-by-step deductive method is nothing more than a minor trick… In short, when I look back, these so-called houses and ladders — what we think of as the Tao and the Path — don’t matter at all. The only important thing is that they make me understand one thing: We all think we are small and that there is something beyond the heavens, but perhaps… perhaps the opposite is true.”

The old Daoist priest said, “But you still need a coordinate to confirm the possibility, or it will be like trying to find a sword by carving a mark on the boat.”

Lu Chen acknowledged. “Or else it would be a dream within a dream.”

“I often ask myself why think so much?”

Lu Chen responded, “But what else can I do but think so much?”

The old Daoist priest said smiling, “An old friend once had an idea