Lu Chen, ever the diviner, chuckled inwardly as he gazed upon Chen Ping’an. “Brother,” he mused, “I trust you spoke with our esteemed senior on the celestial plane regarding the transfer of the *True Script of the Elixir*? If matters are settled, I need not trouble myself with further correspondence.”

Chen Ping’an, occupied with a generous helping of cured pork and bamboo shoot stew, nodded. “Indeed. When next I journey to Tongye Continent, I shall deliver it to Mount Taiping.”

This *True Script of the Elixir* was no mere tome. Its many inscriptions were of unimpeachable provenance, and Cui Dongshan, in his eagerness to aid their master, had even disclosed that the very pages themselves were crafted from the finest talisman paper.

Moreover, the book held the annotations of Li Xisheng, some twelve hundred characters in all. These, if transmuted through the art of “alchemy of words,” could sustain a grand, heaven-reaching rite, honoring a pantheon of twelve hundred Daoist deities. Whether for the venerable Luo Po Mountain or the Green Coiffure Sword Sect, such a treasure would serve as an unparalleled warding array. To the discerning eye of a mountain-dwelling cultivator, it would be nothing short of breathtaking. Yet, Chen Ping’an had other designs. He intended to present the book and its potential as a warding array to Huang Ting as a congratulatory gift during Taiping Mountain’s next great festival, a gesture of doubled auspiciousness, and a repayment for the old Heavenly Grandfather’s gift of sword array schematics to Taiping Mountain in days past.

For the incense and lineage of Tongye Continent’s Taiping Mountain traced back to the lineage of Great Headmaster Kou Ming of the Jade Citadel.

Lu Chen turned to Pei Qian. “Fair maiden, might I trouble you with a query? Have the two children formally accepted my brother as their master?”

Previously, Pei Qian had only mentioned that Li Xisheng intended to keep them by his side to instruct. Whether they would maintain their old ways or adopt a new lineage remained uncertain, a matter of great significance.

In the southern reaches of Tongye Continent, upon Mount Sunei, dwelled the registered cultivators Miao Jia and He Zhou. One had just ascended to the Cave Realm, becoming a “Brow Painter,” while the other, a mere Fourth Realm swordsman, possessed a flying sword capable of momentarily ensnaring the likes of Zhong Kui and his entourage. Such a tale would scarcely be believed, for who was Zhong Kui but a Stop Realm martial artist? And there was Pei Qian herself, also of the Stop Realm! Not to mention the fallen ascendant ghost immortal, Yu Jin. Lu Chen knew beyond doubt, however, that while their entanglement was genuine, if those two cultivators harbored malice and acted upon it, the sheer divinity of Pei Qian’s Stop Realm fist intent would obliterate them. Their frail bodies, burdened with murderous intent, would meet instant death upon nearing her.

Regardless, this sibling pair from a humble sect had found themselves blessed with good fortune. They had survived a great ordeal and were sure to find favor in the future. As the old saying goes, *Destiny arrives for those with whom it is destined, and the unwell shall find their healer in their hour of need.*

Accompanying Li Xisheng was a “porcelain” pageboy named Cui Ci, a youth burdened with sorrows that paradoxically made him less sorrowful.

Pei Qian set down her chopsticks, shaking her head. “It seems they have not formally entered the Dao under Li-xiansheng’s tutelage, at least not yet. As for their long-term intentions, I am not privy.”

Lu Chen smiled and nodded. “I thank you, fair Pei.”

Pei Qian demurred. “Lu Headmaster is too kind. You are an old friend of my master, and I shall offer you all the knowledge I possess.”

Lu Chen chuckled nervously. The more Pei Qian adhered to propriety and etiquette, the more self-conscious and uneasy the Headmaster became.

“*Old friend*, is a rather flexible term. Liu Xianyang and Dong Shuiing are old friends of your master, and so is Ma Kuxuan of Apricot Blossom Alley? Is he not also an old friend of Chen Ping’an?”

Lu Chen currently held a list, a registry of souls destined to be guests of the Jade Citadel alongside Chen Ping’an.

From Luo Po Mountain alone, there was Cui Dongshan, the Yao known as “Spider,” the Little Mo-xiansheng, Bai Jing, who possessed a strong chance to unite the Dao at the Fourteenth Realm, the otherworldly demon from the Year-End Palace, the sword cultivator Mi Yu who had ascended to the Immortal Realm… Among their friends were Liu Xianyang of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect, Qi Jinglong of the Grand Emblem Sword Sect, and others… If Pei Qian were added to this list, the nature of things, like a wedge, would have a point to build off of. With Pei Qian’s inclusion, the number of pure martial artists would also multiply. And for those martial artists worthy of accompanying Chen Ping’an to the Jade Citadel, the Ninth Realm would be insufficient. Only the Stop Realm would do.

In Lu Chen’s eyes, regardless of their martial potential, in terms of talent, the Crow Mountain’s Lin Jiangxian of the Azure Canopy, Xin Ku of Leap Month Peak, and Cao Ci and Pei Qian here, were first-rate talents, few enough to count on one hand.

Chen Ping’an, the female national preceptor Bai Ou of the Azure Billow Dynasty, and others of their ilk were a cut below.

Chen Ping’an, feigning ignorance of the subtle currents between Pei Qian and Lu Chen, inquired, “Are there many places like the Joyous Union Mountain in the Azure Canopy?”

Lu Chen nodded. “Countless. Far more than in the Vast Expanse. The path of the serpent and the dragon coiling about the mountain is a common one in the Azure Canopy, while the path of water is scarce.”

As for “Couple Mountains” like the Falling Kite and Wisteria Mountains, Chen Ping’an had first encountered them during his travels in the Northern Ju Continent. While aboard a ferry, he had passed the Golden Light Peak and the Moon Glow Mountain, the former home to a flock of elusive gold-backed geese, the latter home to giant toads. It was said that the “forebears” of the gold-backed geese and the croaking toads possessed great fortune, and had followed Li-xiansheng in their cultivation these past few years.

Chen Ping’an hesitated, then spoke. “Among the Twelve Earthly Branches of the Great Li, there is a female ghost named Gai Yan, the proprietor of the immortal inn in the capital. She is also a mountain painter known as a Brow Painter, and can be considered an elder to Miao Jia.”

Lu Chen understood. “I shall inform my brother. He shall provide an opportunity for Miao Jia, his unofficial disciple, to journey to the Great Li capital.”

The Confucian Li Xisheng was, after all, not yet the Great Headmaster of the Jade Citadel. While he could impart some refined Daoist arts to Miao Jia, when it came to the art of Brow Painting, Li Xisheng, despite all his wisdom, was utterly ignorant. The female ghost Gai Yan, however, despite her current low realm, had been nurtured by Xiu Hu with the strength of a nation. Her discernment would be remarkable, and she was sure to possess several profound Daoist texts.

Lu Chen was now curious and anticipated a matter. When Headmaster Brother returned to the Jade Citadel, how many unofficial disciples like Jin Fengyulu, Miao Jia, and He Zhou would he bring with him?

At Powder Pill Manor, only the wine was altered. The dishes were fine. In Pei Qian’s view, each of the banquet halls was filled with pink filaments. A swarm of tiny, midge-like birds, otherworldly creatures, flitted about, entering and exiting the guests’ faces. They were incredibly fast, tracing thin, intricate lines, like weaving cloth. Even Bai Mao’s head was enshrouded like a dumpling.

Pei Qian inquired of her master as to the nature of these creatures, which seemed to fool not only Bai Mao, but also Madame Pipa and even some lascivious deities. Chen Ping’an could not say, and only the learned Lu Headmaster could offer an explanation.

It was an old art, a dark magic. First, immortal vinegar was brewed with a “You” character plastered to the jar, not white letters on a red background like would be customary for auspicious occasions, but black letters on white paper. Then, following a series of secret procedures, one that could only be completed over time, an army of “vinegar bugs” could be created. Cooking with this vinegar could make those who consumed it regularly “spill the vinegar jar.” This was only the first step. The bugs would then be soaked in ink, after which a tael of “love silk” spun by spring dream spiders would be taken and refined into ink on the fifth day of the fifth month. The inkstone would be inscribed with the words “Spring Excursion”. A contract of “sea oaths and mountain alliances” between a pair of infatuated men and women and a lascivious deity would then have its writing erased. The “Spring Excursion” ink would be used to write pages of “oriole” characters. The pages would be burned and the ashes placed in water, which would then be consumed by a maiden consumed with love. In her spring dream, the maiden would unknowingly open her mouth and vomit out dream-devouring, illusionary orioles, also known as “Spinning Maids.”

In the end, these orioles could be tamed and made to weave a web of love for their master. Combined with wine as a medium for romance, the effect would be remarkable. The orioles flew like bobbins on a loom, weaving incessantly, ultimately creating a pink canopy of hidden miasma and springtime beauty. This was why fox spirits liked to employ such tricks, either to enhance an amorous encounter or to harvest yang and harm their victims, depending on the fox’s intentions.

Cultivators, especially those who wandered the mountains and marketplaces, were constantly bustling about, collecting strange materials and studying various side magics.

To break this type of bewitching formation, ordinary mountain-water-breaking talismans would be of little use. The solution was simple: one only needed to burn mugwort and pine branches.

The problem was that no one carried mugwort and pine branches.

Chen Ping’an inquired, “Is Yu Chunzhi weaving a flowery veil? Is she a *corpse enchantress* who practices the art of chromatic refinement?”

The *corpse enchantress*, the *skinning tailor* who killed and skinned people to make talisman paper, the *ferryman*, the *plague god*, and the *poison immortal* were considered the ten most wicked paths of cultivation in the Vast Expanse. Should their tracks be discovered, their fates would be grim. Confucian academies across the continent would dispatch sages and worthies to aid in the search. Once, a Downstream Dynasty of Flowing Rosy Continent had a *poison immortal* serving as its national preceptor, secretly nurturing two *plague gods* who spread pestilence, turning six neighboring kingdoms into uninhabitable wastelands within a fortnight, with corpses strewn everywhere and ghosts running rampant. A scholar of the academy was secretly murdered by the *poison immortal*. Finally, the Literary Temple joined forces with Sky Cornered Grotto-Heaven and Old Sword Immortal Zhou Shenzhi to slay the *poison immortal*. Rumor had it that this immortal, who was close to ascension, had not completely perished. Instead, his soul had fled to the Yellow Springs, hoping to one day return to the mortal realm and reclaim his place.

Lu Chen waved his chopsticks. “Not quite. This earth immortal fox spirit has only learned a bit of the art of chromatic refinement. She probably stumbled upon a side magic manual and, lacking proper guidance, has twisted it into a heretical art. If Yu Chunzhi were a genuine *corpse enchantress*, that old toad who was a Golden Body martial artist wouldn’t dare wander about the town. He would have been abducted and forced to bask in the sun by the wall, becoming a dried corpse at the slightest sign of weakness, never to have even met us.”

Since there were few present with functioning posteriors and Madame Yu was out making rounds, the young Daoist struck up a conversation with two of the idle maidens.

Lu Chen, offering chairs to the two beauties at his side, analyzed their faces and spoke of the mountain secrets, such as why those with bamboo-like bridges of their noses should not practice thunder magic. The maidens were flustered and listened with rapt attention as he read their palms, telling the voluptuous maiden with a gold-embroidered phoenix thin silk robe about her fate with *Moon Magic* and what date and time was best to connect with it. He spoke with a shower of saliva, his hand never letting go of the woman’s slender fingers. She feigned engagement but was just listening to him tell her a story.

Pei Qian turned to look at her master.

Chen Ping’an, already full, picked a dried longan from the fruit plate and said telepathically, “It sounds unreliable, but every word is true.”

If Chen Ping’an hadn’t known talismans, Jiang Qu would have found himself in the same situation as Guo Chunxi of Gongliu Island.

There were far too many people in the world like Jiang Qu before he had come to Luo Po Mountain. Yu Yiyou was like that as well. She was fated to cultivate *Moon Magic*, but lacking that fate.

Bai Mao smiled and said, “These are dried longan from Rosy Dew Ridge. Little Zheng, try one. The medical books say they are a superior tonic, good for young and old, and can nourish the heart and clear the mind. A fruit named *Dragon Eye* must have some value, don’t you think?”

Pei Qian thanked Chief Bai and picked a dried longan.

The young Daoist heard this and immediately put two longans in his mouth, speaking indistinctly, “Yiyou-jie and Rongyu-meimei, this poor Daoist believes that after tonight, your stars will align, and you shall have good fortune.”

Their surname was Yu, and they were beautiful, making them like Yu Meiren, or Beauty Yu, the name of a popular song.

Yu Yiyou, with a trace of sorrow, bit her lip and murmured, “Immortal Lu, the mountains say that immortality is fated, and cannot be forced.”

The maiden in green scoffed, “Daoist, you read hands, but now you’re talking about dates of birth? Did we tell you our dates of birth? You’re just spouting nonsense.”

The voluptuous maiden interjected, “Better than those charlatans who scare you with tales of doom and suggest you pay to ward off disaster.”

“Paying to avoid disaster is something you should neither fully believe nor fully disbelieve.”

The young Daoist coughed. “There’s an art to it. You must use money that comes from good sources to ward off disaster. Money can move the gods. It’s about yin virtue and blessings. Copper coins and silver are just a bridge between the mortal and the netherworld. Like incense smoke on the altar, it’s the smallest path to ascension, reaching the heavens. Sincerity brings efficacy, and sins can be forgiven. But if you use money from ill-gotten gains to ward off disaster, it’s like adding fuel to the fire. If you do evil, the time will come. Evil people, especially those in high positions, build up their ill-gotten gains and then burn some incense in temples, and think they are in the clear? There’s no such easy shortcut. It’s like black letters on white paper, clearly distinguishing good from evil, unless… it’s pasted with yellow.”

Yu Rongyu, more short-tempered than Yu Yiyou, gave the fortune-teller no face. “You’re getting more mystical. Who decides what’s good money and what’s bad? The cultivators? Isn’t that the job of the city gods and the Mountain Lords of the Five Peaks?”

The atmosphere cooled.

The young Daoist, who had been focused on the voluptuous beauty, began to make amends. “Rongyu-meimei, what a fine name. Auspicious shoes, free conduct. This poor Daoist sees that you will have good fortune in your old age. If you were in the world, marrying a scholar, raising children, and becoming a Lady of Decree, would not be difficult at all.”

Yu Rongyu spat. The voluptuous beauty pinched her arm, reminding her to behave herself.

Even if they were the lowest of the low, Chief Bai of Wedge Ridge was a distinguished guest there. Even if they were the last to take their seats, those three– the Daoist, the boy with the sword, and the freckled woman — were all guests of Powder Pill Manor. Yu Rongyu had no right to be so insolent, but the Daoist was just begging for it.

The Daoist, who was rough around the edges, was no gentleman. He was just asking for it.

Bai Mao was surprised. “I didn’t think that Daoist Lu knew about the yellow stickers and decrees of the government.”

Bai Mao was just a small official, a magistrate.

“I just heard about it.”

The young Daoist began to cozy up to the generous Chief Bai. “Brother Bai, why did you build your estate in Scorpion Ridge? Are there many scorpions? Do you have any dried scorpions? I could buy them and sell them on Mountain Market for a good price.”

Bai Mao said, “Wedge is about exchanging items. It’s not the scorpion of snake and scorpion.”

The Daoist said, “Is it not pronounced ‘Contract Ridge’? Wedge and Contract are homonyms, no?”

Bai Mao took a sip of wine and said, “Daoist Lu, practitioners should not focus solely on immortality. They should also read more books.”

The Daoist said, “I see.”

Pei Qian looked towards the other banquet halls. The two mountain gods of the Joyous Union Mountain and their maids were urging people to drink, and many of the rogue cultivators were getting drunk.

She frowned and asked, “Master, the banquet has been delayed. It’s almost half an hour now. When is Zhao Fuyang going to make his move?”

Chen Ping’an glanced at the mountain god now known as Palace Flower. “He’s in seclusion. Just wait until these lascivious deities are bewitched, and Yu Chunzhi will open the pink veil, deciding life and death in an instant, to avoid any stragglers, especially any lascivious deities who, knowing they can’t escape, choose to destroy themselves. The more Bai Mao drinks, the slower their perception of time will become. It’s like how a mortal scholar can barely perceive the passage of time in their sleep.”

Lu Chen smiled and asked, “Chief Bai, Yiyou-jie and Rongyu-meimei, do you know the name of the big tree at the foot of the mountain?”

Yu Yiyou said she didn’t know. Powder Pill Manor had strict rules.

Bai Mao shook his head and said, “Please enlighten us, Daoist Lu.”

Lu Chen smiled and said, “The ancient saying goes, ‘Daylily forgets sorrow, silk tree forgets anger.’ It is said that whoever sees the silk tree bloom, whether raging or grieving, will turn anger to joy and tears to laughter.”

“Every year around the Dragon Boat Festival on the fifth day of the fifth month, the silk tree blooms, and the mountain is covered in red umbrellas.”

“The one at the foot of the mountain is a silk tree. It’s similar to the Chinese parasol tree, tall with dense leaves. It’s a good shade tree for the yard and the road. It can grow in dry and barren land, but it can’t withstand the summer heat.”

Yu Rongyu sneered. “Daoist, don’t show off your knowledge. Everyone knows that tree never blooms at the Dragon Boat Festival.”

The voluptuous beauty looked at Yu Rongyu, thinking the young woman was like a firecracker today. Yu Yiyou couldn’t help but laugh. When they were joking, Rongyu would always say that if a man was handsome, he was witty, and if he was ugly, he was a pervert.

Yu Yiyou looked at the outlander with the fish-tail Daoist hat. He wasn’t ugly.

The young Daoist sighed. “Who knows that every grain on the plate is the result of toil.”

If Chen Ping’an had not appeared that night, then whether the young Hidden Official of Luo Po Mountain agreed to the viewing ceremony of Green Apricot Country, every guest that night would be meat on a chopping block.

All were reduced to fodder for Zhao Fuyang’s plate.

There would certainly be the unjustly killed, like Bai Mao of Wedge Ridge and the two Powder Pill maids at Lu Chen’s side.

Chen Ping’an telepathically asked Lu Chen, “Is this silk tree a manifestation between reality and illusion?”

He had thought the tree was just a blindfold to hide the mountain and water restrictions with horns on its forehead.

But according to Lu Chen’s words, the characteristics of the silk tree and the path of Zhao Fuyang, who was a mountain python, were signs of concordance with the Great Dao. It was a sign of good fortune.

Such a “miracle” was rare for a Golden Core cultivator.

Lu Chen smiled telepathically, “I didn’t make up the claim about Zhao Fuyang having five paths to choose.府主 Zhao has the bloodline of a dragon descendant. He has talent.”

Bai Mao asked, “Daoist Lu, what did you say about anger?”

“Brother Bai, you must keep your good habit of asking questions!”

The young Daoist poured some wine into his palm, dipped his finger, and wrote the character “蠲” on the table. “蠲: To enlarge great affairs, and disregard the trivial.”

At that moment, in the cracks of the ruined walls and roads of Bountiful Joy Town, and in the two mountains of Falling Kite and Wisteria, there appeared creatures, thin and segmented like millipedes. They swarmed towards the silk tree. The red paper strips hanging on the tree melted and stretched into red lines.

The accountant at the foot of the mountain, seeing this, was terrified and climbed onto the table. The raggedy scholar forced himself to remain calm, reciting sage words.

The mountain of wine tables. Lu Chen smiled, “蠲 is also a type of worm,马陆, called a millipede by the common folk. They are gregarious, eat decay, and coil up like a knife ring. In summer, they like to climb trees and hiss. They are common in Wedge Ridge.”

Bai Mao nodded and said, “Very common. The books say that “a centipede dies but does not fall down,” referring to this millipede.”

The young Daoist said, “That’s why I thought that Brother Bai’s dojo was called Scorpion Ridge. It’s full of snakes and insects.”

Bai Mao lamented, “If I remember correctly, Headmaster Lu of the Jade Citadel wrote about this worm, called a ‘蚿’ in his Autumn Waters Chapter. One wonderful phrase said, ‘The Kui pities the 蚿, the 蚿 pities the snake, the snake pities the wind, the wind pities the eye, the eye pities the heart.’ Headmaster Lu is a pure and complete person. One sentence can explain many principles.”

The maiden in green eyed the Daoist with the lotus hat and chuckled. “The Daoists will never stop. They’ll always tell you how great they are.”

The young Daoist. “容与-meimei, how can you compare me to Lu Chen?”

That’s because Pei Qian turned a corner of her mouth.

Chen Ping’an poured a bowl of wine and handed it to Headmaster Lu. If he could chat so well, he should drink more.

Lu Chen blocked the wine and said, “Chen-xiongdi, have you forgotten that I don’t drink?”

Chen Ping’an said, “You’re drinking it.”

“I just decided to give it up for a few days.”

“You need to drink to have the motivation to give it up.”

When the boy with the sword and the young Daoist were urging and blocking the wine, probably because Bai Mao mentioned the Jade Citadel and the Daoist said the name Lu Chen.

The two Powder Pill maids also perked their ears, and their hearts yearned.

They just had a moment of emotion. After all, it was unattainable.

Daoist Headmasters were all so virtuous and skilled.

But they were on another continent.

It was better to think about the Hidden Official in Treasure Bottle Continent.

There were many in Powder Pill and Aura, all dreaming of Luo Po Mountain opening the mirror of flowers and moon. Some said that the white-robed boy with a red mole on his brow was matchlessly handsome, and others said that Great Sword Immortal Mi from Sword Qi Great Wall was beautiful. But what they most wanted to see was the young Hidden Official in green robes.

Even the Venerable Yu Youyi and Madam Zhao Yan were wondering why a great sect like Luo Po Mountain didn’t hold a mirror.

Lu Chen couldn’t resist Chen Ping’an and took the bowl of wine, drinking it all.

The young Daoist, with a unique toast, raised his bowl and said, “Even if our homes are different and our paths diverge, we all live under the same sky. Let us all form good karma.”

Lu Chen, with a twist of his wrist, gently swirled the wine bowl, staring down at the ripples.

What will come of the fist? Zhang? Chen?

***

The mountain stands tall, the stream noisy.

Zhang Qiong, the wealthy patriarch of the Celestial Tribunal Zhang Clan, with white hair and a burly figure, sat cross-legged on a boulder, clad in common clothes, the water and his leisurely posture.

The old man rested his fists on his knees, gazing into the distance, the flowing water, lonely villages, new ghosts, old graves, withered trees, and crows, like a widow crying at night, the phosphorescent fire.

Zhang Qiong looked at the silk tree. He had always hated it. For an old man so quick to dislike, the silk tree was always a thorn in his eye, but if he didn’t look, he could at least find a little peace. Truth be told, when the Zhang Clan besieged the Silk Tree Mountain, not everyone in the family agreed with him. Most members felt that the benefits were too small and the risks too great. Because the Celestial Tribunal Zhang Clan had no vendetta with the Joyous Union Mountain, there was no need to go head to head, especially with such haste. But Zhang Qiong couldn’t convince them, so he played the clan leader card and plowed ahead.

The Zhang Patriarch had been “blinded by age.” His cultivators couldn’t even make it to Eternal Abundance Town. They had lost a lot of what the clan had accumulated, and gotten nothing in return. If he didn’t have any Golden Immortals on the younger generations, he would have to step down.

Fortunately, his great-granddaughter Zhang Caiqin agreed with him, and Qi Song was also a close friend, so Zhang Qiong’s position was still safe.

But to the Green Apricot Liu Dynasty, it was a thorn in their side. The other two countries didn’t want such an outlaw area.

Zhao Fuyang was confident that the Liu Emperor would not be able to convince the other two monarchs to work together to attack Joyous Union Mountain.

Zhang Caiqin and Hong Yangbo’s trip to Great Li and their success to that person to attend the coming-of-age ceremony of the Liu heir was a deathblow.

Zhang Qiong asked, “According to the schedule, is the recruitment in Powder Pill Manor underway?”

Zhang Caiqin said, “If they’re on time, the recruitment started two quarters ago.”

Zhang Qiong took out a packet of sesame cookies from his sleeve and gestured to her. Zhang Caiqin shook her head. Old Immortal Cheng was out of the question.

Zhang Qiong smiled, “Would we be forcing his hand? Will Zhao Fuyang go off the rails? Will we go down with him?”

Zhao Fuyang had promised to return the three seals to the Green Apricot Liu Dynasty, including the celestial heir seal.

In exchange, Liu would return three seals of similar quality from other countries within half a year. It was a way to buy time.

Zhang Qiong wiped his mouth. “Zhao Fuyang is like those people who would kill the emperor if he didn’t get what he wanted.”

Cheng Qian smiled, “The Joyous Union Mountain won’t make any waves.”

According to the agreement, he would deal with Zhao Fuyang, and the Celestial Tribunal Zhang Clan would deal with Yu Chunzhi.

Zhang Qiong asked, “Why did Zhao Fuyang change his mind?”

Cheng Qian said, “The reason doesn’t matter.”

Zhang Caiqin sighed. If Zhao Fuyang and Yu Chunzhi didn’t couple and merge with Falling Kite and Wisteria, everyone would be afraid that these two licentious would run.

The Jade Gate did have the ability to shoulder mountains.

They would capture the bandits in the mountains.

The whole Joyous Union Mountain was in a jar.

Zhao Fuyang was doomed.

Zhang Caiqin asked, “Is there a chance that Zhao Fuyang will break through and become a Nascent Soul?”

Zhang Qiong put the last sesame cake in his mouth.

The Green Apricot Dynasty’s Protector would inspect the tree and tell them if Zhao Fuyang would break through.

Cheng Qian nodded and said, “I saw nothing. Zhao Fuyang will need years to form his Nascent Soul.”

Zhang Qiong praised, “A high-ranking official such as yourself, and as young as you are, is rarely seen.”

Cheng Qian said, “妖韶女，老自有餘態.”

Zhang Caiqin was a little helpless.

The two old kids were arguing.

In reality, Zhang Qiong and the Green Apricot Dynasty Protector don’t see eye to eye.

Zhang Qiong thought Cheng Qian was a stiff.

They were so aloof.

Zhang Caiqin believed it.

When the Celestial Tribunal Zhang Clan attacked Joyous Union Mountain, the Green Apricot Liu Dynasty and the Jade Gate stood by.

The Green Apricot Dynasty and Cheng Qian were both worried.

What’s more, the Liu Dynasty had three seals in Zhao Fuyang’s hands. Zhao Fuyang could destroy them, Zhao Fuyang wouldn’t. He was just to make them unusable.

Zhang Caiqin’s great-grandfather would always repeat one sentence.

“Something feels wrong, but I don’t know what.”

The young cultivators Zhang Caiqin and Zhang Yuqiao almost all supported her great-grandfather’s mistakes.

People envied that her the land of the gods was growing old.

Now, Zhang Qiong was getting ready to get a coffin.

The Jade Man was a young god, and he was close to the Nascent Soul. He was ready to seclude himself.

There were old, young, and middle-aged gods. Zhang Qiong was an old Golden Immortal. His Nascent Soul was approaching decay.

But Zhang Qiong was open-minded. Not only has he not tried to prolong his life, he has gotten a coffin ready.

The Immortal Cheng-zhenren was a young earth Immortal, and Zhang Qiong was just old.

Zhang Qiong suddenly laughed, “I’ll just make a quick calculation.”

He took a few tortoise shells out of his sleeve.

At this time, Cheng Qian said, “Qi Song is coming.”

Zhang Qiong had to put away the tortoise shells.

Soon, five people climbed to the summit. There was only one face, a dark girl.

Cheng Qian and Zhang Qiong looked at each other. The two had realized the changes in Lu Mo.

Qi Song, being a martial artist, hadn’t realized the changes in his disciple.

Qi Song introduced them. Golden Gate Cheng Headmaster, Celestial Tribunal Zhang Clan Patriarch, Sword Immortal Zhang Caiqin. Bountiful Joy Town, Qi Practitioner Ni Qing.

Ni Qing, in the presence of the Green Apricot Country Protector, was nervous and clutched the rope of her bag.

The girl said, “I’m Ni Qing.”

They were all scared of The Green Apricot Country Protecter.

The sword disciple, Zhang Yuqiao, had no expression.

The silk garment was a sign of the mountain practitioner. You’re just admitting to be some uncouth hermit.

Cheng Qian was silent, but he looked at her. She was a little old.

Zhang Qiong nodded and smiled. “Ni Qing Xiaodaoyou, do you have any relatives or friends in the small town?”

If they had, Zhang Caiqin and Zhang Yuqiao would return to Bountiful Joy Town and protect their relatives.

Ni Qing said, “Yes, but they can all take care of themselves. They all have their own plans.”

Zhang Qiong smiled, “We will fight them. But we might not be able to protect everyone.”

Ni Qing said, “They all have their own things to do.”

The old man nodded. “Everything.”

Cheng Qian looked at the girl and shook his head.

He inhaled deeply.

The cultivators used energy.

The girl thought, “What great practitioners. So great.”

Zhang Qiong asked, “Cheng Qian, you’re not a narrow-minded person. Why do you dislike Zhao Fuyang so much?”

Cheng Qian silenced for a moment and said, “Zhao Fuyang is bad for our ancestors.”

Zhao Fuyang had hoped to hang Lu Zhangjiao’s picture.

The Green Apricot Mountain traced back to the Jade Gate’s southern Hua lineage.

Zhang Qiong said, “Just that.”

Cheng Qian said, “‘Just?'”

Zhang Qiong nodded. “I see. Your Daoist tradition is different from our family tradition.”

Some said that Cheng Qian wanted to meet Lu Zhangjiao.

“Teacher Sun once passed a shirt to Zhao Fuyang.”

Cheng Qian said, “Death.”

***

Powder Pill Manor

Yu Chunzhi and her daughters, to comfort the owners of Hundred Flower Lake.

Yu Chunzhi was happy.

She was smiling and said, “Zhang, We’re already family, and your lake is gone. For us the see this, as we have you as family, just say the word and i’ll help take it back, okay.”

Zhang Xiangdao just twirled his beard, in much anxiety.

Wei Chan nodded, advising her husband not to lose his composure.

The son looked at Yu’s daughters.

Yu didn’t seem to see Zhang Hanquan’s gaze, and said, “When i speak of your son, what a groom he would be, and not like Zhang Youqiao, or any from the Green Gates.”

Zhang Xiangdao squeezed a smile and said, “Then thank you.”

The son said, “Son in law thanks the mother!”

Beside them was Shrine, sitting there unable to move because of what she did.

Blue Apricot was going to take Joy Mountain.

With the Emperor’s personal trip, all was heavily guarded. The five and the river gods protected all of them.

The country was in such disarray, it would take time to fix.

In one of the carriages, the carriage was huge, the Blue Apricot Emperor was reading reports, all while a small ceramic dragon incense burner helped with sleep.

Since he sat down, the Emperor was known to work.

A young man, the prince, sat down, because he was not in good terms, since late last year and spring, he was criticised. If he didn’t see that he was the choice for the spot.

He asked why they hid this from him.

The Emperor gave him a strange answer, they afraid of him remembering and punishing them.

The Emperor tossed over a thing, saying, “take a look.”

The prince looked over, he wrinkled his brows, wanting to prevent those of low status for being officials, it should be more those from the family and educated.. it was against what the prince thought.

The Emperor said, “Write, I’ll say and you’ll write.”

The prince took up the pen.

The emperor slowly said, “Yes, listen to the report, from now on it will be on the list and what is suitable is for those in position.”

The Emperor said, “If you’re not that tired, take a look at these reports.”

The prince was handed a report.

Those from the top of Treasure Bottle, reports from the Emperor should all be with white papers. Some of the reports were hard, so those in power added their own reports, limited to 30 so it would be quicker for the Emperor.

It had to do with the hard work and the hard place of the industry, putting it after the industry and the others.

The industry was greatly against the invasion of the region.

The Servant said, “Gain an inch and you are the ruler of that inch, gain a ruler and be the ruler of that rule”

“There are thousands, only one does the task. You have to understand why.”

The Emperor coughed, and placed his hand to his mouth, silent for a time, and picked up a thing saying, “Hope that one day you have the talent to become the Emperor.”

Ink Peak

Liu and the others, secretly left and waited for the news.

Looking at the stones, it was getting more strange, the power, there was magic on the surface.

Someone with space power appeared.

The others were relived, it was Chen who dispelled the illusion.

Chen