The Hound of Xie grew restless, his canine loyalty prickling with injustice. “Why has Wei Bo lost his spine today?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “He was iron-willed before our Mountain Lord, but now, faced with these highborn scholars, he bends like a reed in the wind. It’s as if his very arm favors the outsider!”

For Pi Yun Mountain and Fallen Peak were near neighbors, separated by a mere stone’s throw. No whisper escaped the Northern Mountain God’s Manor that did not reach the ears of Xie Gou, who was known for his wanderings. Thus, he knew of Wei Bo’s self-proclaimed title, ‘Spirit of the Lake’, and of Chen Ping An’s fruitless attempts to dissuade him.

Xiao Mo, ever serene, offered a gentle smile. “When one encounters a person they deeply admire, all things become agreeable. Even the most stubborn heart will cease to beat against its own cage.”

She recalled Zhu Lian’s words, “To make a man listen to reason, there are but three paths. First, he must hear the counsel of one he deems a superior, a nobleman of spirit. Second, he must stumble and fall, taste the bitter dust of his own folly. Only then will his habits and beliefs begin to shift. Last, he must read.”

The first relied on fortune’s fickle hand, the second on fate and wisdom, and the last? Rare indeed was the man who would take it upon himself.

Xie Gou chuckled. “Surely, the Mountain God Wei does not admire dozens of individuals?”

Xiao Mo replied in a whisper meant only for his ears. “Not so many. Perhaps the fingers of one hand would suffice.”

She remembered the tales Zhu Lian had shared of Wei Bo’s life. Born of noble lineage, the Wei clan possessed a history as long as the Yi River, six hundred years of illustrious scholars and unbroken ancestral rites. Wei Bo himself had ascended to high office, not through inherited privilege, but through the brutal arena of the commoner’s examination, taking the laurel wreath in every stage, rising step by step to the heart of the imperial court. His posthumous title was ‘Wen Zhen’, bestowed with the rank of Crown Prince Grand Protector. Even in death, he had been sanctified by the court, becoming a guardian spirit, holding his office even in the ancient lands of Shu, as the foremost Mountain God of Shenshui.

In matters of self-cultivation, Wei Bo revered the Grand Scholar of the Confucian Temple. For scholarship and prose, he held dear the Dragon of Verse, Xin. In matters of worldly conduct, he admired Ah Liang, the swordsman of the Saint’s estate. For martial strategy, he revered a god of war whose star had fallen due to some imperfection in his deeds. But for sheer versatility, for mastery of all arts, none surpassed the nobleman of Lotus Flower Blessed Land… Zhu Lian.

Xie Gou spoke again with only Xiao Mo being able to hear it. “Our Mountain Lord puts on such airs, not even deigning to greet his guests in true form. Surely, this is ill-mannered? Scholars harbor long grudges, and none so fiercely as against their peers who flaunt their status.”

Xiao Mo explained, “With the opening of the schoolhouse, the Grand Scholar instructed the noble son not to seek leave to welcome them. Lessons take precedence over all else. Ju Jing remarked that a teacher should never ask leave to teach.”

Xie Gou nodded, a hint of approval in his eyes. “If all scholars were such, the world would find it difficult to fall into chaos.”

He paused, a sudden thought striking him. “Xiao Mo! Why can you hear the thoughts of Dao Lin and Lord Li, while I hear not a single word?”

A towering man, his brow framed by a high crown, a steel blade at his side, glanced at the maidenly swordswoman, Bai Jing.

Understanding dawned on Xie Gou, and he gnashed his teeth in mock fury, adjusting his sable cap. He raised an arm, patting his bicep in a gesture of challenge.

“Was one spar, undecided, enough to breed such resentment?”

Xiao Mo chuckled. “You scarcely sparred! You rained sword energy upon the carriage of the Sage himself, only to sheathe your blade and flee! Is it any wonder Zhou was enraged?”

Xie Gou shrugged. “If they could catch me, then we could spar.”

Xiao Mo’s face darkened.

Realizing his mistake, Xie Gou hastened to placate her, “Such cowardly tactics are not honorable. I will mend my ways, truly.”

The group ascended the mountain path, Lord Li taking the lead. “Mountain Lord Chen, as the senior sect, has Fallen Peak managed to gather a hundred disciples, counting both scripted cultivators and unadorned warriors?”

Chen Ping An shook his head. “We have not reached a hundred. Even including the guest officials registered with the Jise Peak ancestral hall, we are scarcely half that. With our mountain closed to the world, I expect little growth in the coming decades.”

Lord Li smiled. “To achieve such success with so few is truly remarkable.”

Chen Ping An replied, “A paper drum before a thunder gate; it is I who am made a fool of.”

Min Wen smiled. “Ju Jing keeps ten sets each of the Hundred Sword Immortal and Two-Hundred Sword Immortal seal collections, believing they are worthy of sale.”

Lord Li said, “I asked friends on the mountain to buy them, Chen Mountain Lord, do you have any copies available? Of course they must be from An’s shop in Sword Qi Great Wall.”

Chen Ping An sighed. “I only kept two for myself.”

Had he known how valuable they would become, he would have kept those artisans working day and night, and would have considered his shop derelict if he did not return with tens of thousands of copies.

Lord Li lamented. “Alas, they are seal collections, without printing plates.”

For if there were, nothing would stop the carving of millions of them.

Zhou spoke at last. “I have perused two of the collections. Those seals with inscriptions relating to the people and customs of Sword Qi Great Wall, those tailored to the local swordsmen, were truly excellent, both in script and marginal notes. But beyond those, the seals seemed cobbled together, lacking the coherence and insight that would earn the praise of scholars and epigraphers.”

In other words, the fame of the collection rested more on the name of Sword Qi Great Wall and the Hidden Official than on the quality of the work itself.

Zhou continued, “Xiang Ji should say this, but he holds you in high regard, and so I must play the villain.”

Min Wen nodded with a smile. “When private sentiment prevails, it is difficult to be critical.”

Chen Ping An smiled. “An ancient poet captured the essence: ‘The greatest fault in verse is a hundred patchwork robes. The world knows not the fire-dragon embroidery.”

After a pause, Chen Ping An continued. “I am no scholar. I lacked formal education, had no family instruction, and wandered the world. I cultivated my martial skills diligently, but I gave scant attention to moral philosophy, and dare not claim any expertise. Fortunately, the swordsmen of Sword Qi Great Wall care little for such things.”

As long as it sells well at Sword Qi Great Wall, and people pay money, then what is wrong or right here doesn’t matter.

Since the approaching scholars did not use any of the telepathic means of communication, their idle words were heard by those perched on the high steps, like sparrows on a branch.

Wei Wen Long, the newly-arrived Treasurer of Fallen Peak, was flushed with excitement, repeating to himself, “It is truly Ju Jing… it is truly Ju Jing.”

Zhang Jia Zhen, who was also an accountant, was more composed, perhaps because his homeland was not within this great world.

Of all on Fallen Peak, only Chen Ling Jun, who styled himself as a simple man, unaware of the identities of the scholars.

That said, the truth that Daoist Jing Qing had witnessed such turbulent times and that previously in Huai Huang County he had witnessed the founders of all three religions, could not be denied.

Chen Qing Liu smiled faintly. “Well spoken. Sharp words wrapped in silken thread. Your studies have not been in vain.”

Faced with these accompanying sages who walked straight from the portraits in the Confucian Temple, most scholars would be tongue-tied, or unable to even speak without breaking out into a cold sweat.

Nuan Shu, tense and nervous, clutched at her skirt. Unlike Chen Ling Jun, who might visit the Confucian Temple once or twice in a lifetime, she had recognized the scholars instantly.

“Do not fret,” Zhu Lian murmured, soothingly. “This is the way of sages, first discord, then harmony. Of all scholars in the world, upright in word and deed, aligned in heart and mind, our Mountain Lord is surely one. What is there to fear?”

Chen Qing Liu smiled. “It is said you are skilled in all eighteen martial arts. Is your staff higher than your sword or spear?”

“A staff sweeps a wide swath,” Zhu Lian spoke, both praising his Mountain Lord and flattering Dao Lin and Xiang Ji.

Zhu Lian bowed respectfully to the man who had slain a dragon, adopting a phrase he had heard Chen Ping An utter, “A paper drum before a thunder gate; it is I who am made a fool of.”

Chen Qing Liu asked, “There are only four accompanying sages here. The canonization of the Five Peaks requires five. Who is absent?”

Xin Ji An shook his head. “I do not know.”

Logically, Dao Lin would be presiding over the canonization ceremony at Pi Yun Mountain, bestowing the divine title, as the Central Peak held precedence in Confucian rituals. Though perhaps the two would switch roles, depending on Wei Bo’s persistence, or Chen Ping An’s willingness to mediate.

Chen Qing Liu smiled. “I suspect Lord Li and Chen Ping An have much to discuss in private.”

For both were adept at matters of coin, and both defended their teacher with unwavering zeal, willing to expend effort in the world beyond the scriptures and the academy.

As expected, Zhou nodded. “If Sword Qi Great Wall resembled our world, it would have fallen long ago. Before coming, we heard our teacher say that the Grand Sword Immortal had offered a definitive assessment, that the strength of Sword Qi Great Wall rested on one principle: ‘It is not like Haoran.’ Thus, Sword Qi Great Wall should not emulate Haoran, nor could Haoran emulate Sword Qi Great Wall.”

Chen Ping An made a strange face.

It was nothing. The Grand Sword Immortal could steal his words one time.

Zhou laughed freely. “To see you kowtowing and heaping praise upon us would be a disappointment. The Sage’s disciples are carefully chosen, a matter of pride. That you were chosen for it, even if only to preserve the peace of mind of the elderly gentleman. I suspect the Grand Sword Immortal met with some resistance when he appointed you to be the master of summer resort, but he would not question, but they were certainly full of grumbles. But the written words in your two seal collections were justified, for there wasn’t a worthy successor.”

The towering man turned and asked, “Eldest Brother?”

The scholar in the cotton robe, whom Wei Bo called Grand Scholar, nodded, smiling. “Overall, he is a man of refinement, a gentleman. I shall recommend it to the Confucian Temple.”

Chen Ping An, a disciple of the Sage, was not even counted as a ‘gentleman’. This would make other sects laugh.

Seeing Chen Ping An’s hesitant expression, as if he would decline, Zhou spoke bluntly. “If you truly wish to avoid being a gentleman, you may discuss the matter with the Sage of Rites.”

Chen Ping An fell silent.

Was he to seek the Sage of Rites just to avoid a title?

Even his teacher would scold him for such a thing.

Chen Qing Liu chuckled gleefully. “Scholars are such fussy creatures. To be offered the title of gentleman, and to hesitate so. Were it me, I would accept even if it meant being the patriarch of the Confucian Temple.”

Hearing his friend speak ill of his patron, Chen Ling Jun elbowed Chen Qing Liu in the ribs. “You are a scholar too, muttering curses in your bedsheets!”

Chen Ping An hesitated, then spoke, “The clamor thunders, day and night unceasing. Thank you, Grand Scholar.”

Common wisdom spoke of justice residing in the hearts of the people, that the common folk possessed a scale of right and wrong. In the heart of the first man to be given his own name, who read more books than anyone else, all acts of kindness or evil done in the world could be seen. All the actions and events that followed were clear in his mind. The sound of the people was like a multitude of footsteps that never ceased, and it thundered.

The scholar with the gourd at his waist did not do it to boast his identity, but to express the way in which his thoughts had been made physical.

For in that gourd was the water of virtue, the deepness of love.

That, at least, was what Chen Ping An suspected.

The scholar smiled. “To neighbor with truth is sweet.”

“In my view, the gentleman undergoes three transformations. The first makes him a sage, the second a saint, and the third, the very embodiment of Dao.”

“Contentment in poverty, joy in Dao, that is what Teacher Qi would desire. Therefore, do what must be done, whether it be the righteousness of a sage, or the vengeance of a hero, without hesitation. For I believe Teacher Qi would not wish for your heart to be bound by such concerns, hindering your cultivation.”

Chen Ping An nodded.

The scholar asked, “Chen Ping An, what is your view of the Asiate’s teachings?”

Chen Ping An replied slowly. “To say, ‘In poverty, cherish your virtue. In wealth, share your blessings’, and ‘When frustrated, look to yourself for the reason’. These two sentences alone are worthy of being passed down for ten thousand generations.”

“And?”

It was clear that Chen Ping An could not simply “muddle through” with a few words.

It was not a test unless Chen Ping An stated his words clearly.

Seeing Chen Ping An hesitate, he smiled. “Let us shift to a more practical matter. Give me your opinion of the arguments of the willow and the rushing stream.”

Chen Ping An said. “Before I answer the Grand Scholar’s question, let me offer a few of my own observations.”

“Man differs little from beast. Without the Four Beginnings, man is no longer man. A cultivator must understand this truth even better than a mundane scholar.”

“Yet, ‘No child fails to love its parents; no youth fails to respect his elder brother.’ I cannot agree. The Asiate ignores the impact of family, clan, and local custom. He overlooks man’s innate desire to seek profit and avoid harm.”

“There is but one sentence in the Asiate’s teachings that I find profound, truly a ‘word from the mountain gods’, and that is ‘The mind that all share…’.”

Hearing this, the scholar smiled, cutting Chen Ping An short. “Enough.”

The Grand Scholar offered no judgement on whether this was right or wrong.

Chen Qing Liu rose, a sudden longing for the silly, hulking Xie Shijie washing over him.

Of all his disciples, Xie Shijie had favored the dim-witted Liu Dao Chun, while having little to say to Zheng Ju Zhong.

That garish pink Daoist robe was Xie Shijie’s gift to Liu Dao Chun, along with a glazed pavilion for his Daoist sanctum.

Perhaps due to this connection, Chen Qing Liu found himself favoring the youth now known as Liu Chi Cheng.

Liu Chi Cheng was but a minor disciple, and Chen Qing Liu had yet to take a final apprentice, but Liu Chi Cheng acted as if he was the apprentice, for he was the person standing at the door and who closed it.

Chen Qing Liu sighed softly. The mountain was abundant with trees, but lacked peach blossoms, unlike the riotous blossoms of Peach Leaf Alley in the town below.

“When I become the Green Emperor, I shall bring the peach blossoms into bloom everywhere.”

Earlier, Chen Qing Liu had asked for two calligraphic works, one of which, intended for Fallen Peak, contained lines from a poem by Xin Ji An, titled *Tune: Water Melody*.

“The traveler has been away too long; fair sights await him…Awakening a day’s worth of moonlight, illuminating my heart with frost and snow, flowing across the vast rivers.”

Unbeknownst to many, Fallen Peak held within it:

A Fourteenth Realm swordsman, Dragon slayer and the man in front of him, Chen Qing Liu.

Xin Ji An. Xiao Mo, Bai Jing.

The white-haired child who was also the registrar for Fallen Peak, now called Kong Hou, an ascending demon.

Dao Lin, Zhou, Min Wen, and Lord Li had all been ranked in the Confucian Temple.

With the addition of Jing Hao, the ascending old cultivator, and this would not even include everyone, there were more than ten people.

And as the host, the mountain lord was only in the nascent soul realm.

—–

In the Cloud Rock Capital, Qing Tong and Yang Zhi parted ways, continuing their aimless stroll.

Suddenly, at a quiet corner, he saw a white-robed youth leaning against a wall, holding a colorful paper windmill.

Honestly, Qing Tong would rather deal with Chen Ping An than face this man.

Cui Dong Shan hurried toward Qing Tong, the windmill spinning in his hand. “To meet the Subordinate Seat here is a pleasure beyond words!”

The foremost guest official of the Green Sprout Sword Sect was Ye Yun Yun, while Qing Tong was the second.

His teacher had spoken plainly, granting Qing Tong a high regard, calling him the Fourth Mountain Head of the Green Sprout Sect.

Therefore, he had been invited to serve as a secret protector for the lower sect.

Chen Ping An had also promised to speak on Qing Tong’s behalf at the Confucian Temple.

To see if he could find a place near the Demon Suppressing Pagoda to found a sect, and to seek to attract local demon cultivators with clean histories, to become scripted cultivators, so that Qing Tong could become the founder.

Back at Secret Snow Peak, Qing Tong had made no grand promises, only vowing to do his best.

Chen Ping An had seemed to expect this answer, and the deal had been struck.

Qing Tong forced a smile. “Greetings, Sect Lord Cui.”

Cui Dong Shan nodded eagerly. “Meeting an acquaintance in a foreign land is always a happy surprise.”

Qing Tong did not mention meeting Yang Zhi at the barbecue stand.

Cui Dong Shan feigned ignorance.

Qing Tong asked, “Sect Lord Cui, is your appearance in the capital to oversee the excavation of the Great Ditch?”

Cui Dong Shan shook his head vigorously. “No, no, with Zhong, Cao, and Sword Immortal Mi, I can rest easy as a hands-off master.”

Qing Tong did not bother with pleasantries, and a heavy silence settled between them.

Cui Dong Shan said, “Now that I have met you, I may say a word about an important matter for our sect. Let us speak at the Tung Tree Ferry.”

As a valued guest, Qing Tong could not refuse, and followed Cui Dong Shan toward the Fish Scale Ferry outside the capital.

He would rather have stayed with Yang Zhi and the River Goddess.

Cui Dong Shan said casually, “Has Subordinate Seat Qing chosen a location for your sect?”

Qing Tong replied, “Not yet. There is no rush.”

He had several promising sites, but did not wish to share them with this Sect Lord.

He found it easier to make deals with Chen Ping An. He saw the “White-Robed Youth” as unconstrained by any taboo. Perhaps only with Chen Ping An did he restrain himself, acting like a normal person.

Cui Dong Shan raised an arm, waving the paper windmill. “Ah, if you had a site in mind, I have also found a site for a subordinate sect of the Green Sprout Sword Sect. It would be great to have more people in the sect!”

Did he hear correctly? Had the Green Sprout Sword Sect been a subordinate sect of Fallen Peak for only a few days, and yet Cui Dong Shan was already planning his own subordinate sect?

Cui Dong Shan was not lying. He was planning the construction of a subordinate sect.

For the Confucian Temple had issued a decree, and now any work done in the 5-colored world had nothing to do with the world they were in.

Cui wanted to question the validity of that decree and send a letter, so asked the Temple officials what was going on.

But the Confucian Temple official simply said, “It was me.”

Cui Dong Shan had no choice but to settle on the center of Tung Leaf Continent, at the mouth of the Lin River.

It would not interfere with Jade Crucible Sect, which he had only recently formed an alliance with.

At the Lin River, the Green Sprout Sword Sect would soon begin construction of a ferry called Crimson Clouds Ferry.

On both sides of the river, two small nations would appear: The Divine Maiden Empire of Dugu Meng Long, with foremost official Shao Po Xian and Protector Wu Yi. The other was the land of Yu Lu.

Cui Dong Shan did not hesitate to spend vast sums, buying three peaks for the sect as well as the Wild Clouds Ferry of White Dragon Cave.

He also intended to migrate more ancient mountains and dojos to expand the sect’s territory, and to purchase many “enclaves”, scattering subsidiary mountains across Tung Leaf Continent, slowly connecting them to vie for territory with Jade Crucible Sect.

The problem was that the Temple had already given Jade Crucible Sect an extra blessed land. Therefore, Cui Dong Shan had the idea to take the three mountain lands owned by Jade Crucible Sect. It may be difficult, but time was on their side.

Reaching the bustling Fish Scale Ferry, Cui Dong Shan led Qing Tong onto the Tung Tree Ferry.

Qing Tong saw that the room was filled with people including Mi Yu and Zhong Qiu. The assembly must mean this was a serious issue.

Cui Dong Shan smacked his head. “I forgot to invite a senior to attend. Wait a moment.”

Cui Dong Shan departed, returning to the Cloud Rock Capital.

Tender Daoist and Long Beard Mountain Lord Situ Meng Jing were enjoying a drink and the night scenery.

This small country capital had survived the war that had swept through the continent. Was it truly due to divine protection?

On the street, a white-robed youth waved a windmill. “Tender Daoist, this way!”

Tender Daoist wondered, “May I ask who you are?”

It was rare to meet a cultivator whose power he could not see through.

“It is Dong Shan.”

The youth smiled. “We are family! Li Huai and I are peers!”

Tender Daoist had guessed the youth’s identity. Li Huai had mentioned him, a fellow who had eagerly sought to become Chen Ping An’s student and went on journeys.

Cui Dong Shan said apologetically, “I come seeking a favor, but it may be difficult to ask.”

Tender Daoist said, “If it is difficult to ask, then do not.”

“I must ask,” Cui Dong Shan said, “I may be difficult to ask.”

Cui Dong Shan stepped onto the wall, leaping onto the roof to sit next to Tender Daoist. “Tender Daoist, I once had a well-known nickname: Defiled Daoist!”

*Dog Daoist?*

Tender Daoist’s expression darkened. At such a young age? Was he insulting him?

Cui Dong Shan had a little bit saved up.

He had some things from the person who told him to start a new Sect.

Everything was scarce, and hard to manage.

Cui Dong Shan said, “Senior, you may not know, but we have just established our Sect.”

Tender Daoist interrupted, “I have no money!”

Li Huai was right.

It was not like Tender Daoist was deliberately feigning poverty. It was just that over the years his savings had been eaten by the Barbarian Pavilion.

The demon wanted to be taken care of, but did Tender Daoist have the money to do so?

In the end, the Barbarian Pavilion was only left with one coin.

But Tender Daoist had magical tools and treasures. He had to have something in him, as he had flown, so had earned quite a reputation.

The youth said, “A senior who is so impoverished? Then would you be willing to contribute something?”

Tender Daoist frowned. “Contribute? How so? Speak plainly.”

“Getting the court to buy mountains, I can rely on myself to do, or through loans.”

“Those mountains that were not so prized, and not so special, it takes so much power. It is too much for just me. I have no way to carry all the weight.

“Senior has no money, I have no power.”

Tender Daoist laughed. “I have been invited here to help with the excavation of the Ditch. You are asking for me to do this in my free time?”

After some thought, Tender Daoist said, “If you are going to ask for assistance, then you can go and have that put on file, with your Sect, and go ask Chen Ping An. That is what you can do.”

Li Huai was very helpful, and was good. Cui Dong Shan did too. He made sure he wasn’t doing bad things.

With a letter, Tender Daoist could help out. Not only would he assist, but Chen Ping An and Cui would be in his debt.

“There is a document. If there was not a document, would I be here?” Cui said with a smile as he pulled the letter from his robes.

Tender Daoist took the letter and put it in his robes, not even opening it, “I’ll go with Sect Leader. I can help.”

With Chen’s letter, if there was a problem, then Chen would have to take it, and that was that.

The youth went, and headed to Tung, and would have no problems taking it, all he would need was friends.

Chen made his way, raised a cup to him, and said, “Senior, let’s get a drink?”

Tender Daoist thought for a moment, as it was getting quite late.

He didn’t know how to swim though. He didn’t know how. He would need to ask others to do it for him.

Tung Boat. Cui left, and had a chat with Zhong, the teacher, about it. It was unlike what they did up on the mountain.

Very different from the Sect on top, which was peaceful, Cui gave a lot of work to the people, and they had offices, were always getting new people, and expanding.

In the wall, there were charts.

Previously, he said in the ancestral cave that everyone would participate.

Chen said so.

The other people too.

The order had been given.

Chen didn’t think it was unusual, but the way Cui set it up was as it should have been, unlike where they were going to be going, which was far more free.

Qing looked at the maps. There were many places that weren’t familiar to others. They were officers of the cave.

The maps and more.

Quan Cave was not in that good a location.

Shan Cave.

Controls mountain stuff, and mountain restrictions too, there were some problems. Cui, Yu, and more.

Shui Cave.

Gathers secrets, and fosters assassins. Prevent infiltration from the outside. Cultivate allies, those who are not known. Cui was in charge, with the General.

Li Cave.

Records people’s information, birth, records, how they are, how they are born, where they come from. Everyone would do well.

All caves would be there.

Gong Cave.

The one with the word to stop, for everyone. How people are going to act, and what they must do.

Transport Cave.

There are ships, and caves too, plus the boats that come over.

Two monks, gold too, both skilled.

They all had it too.

Zhi Cave.

Collect the gold, the treasures, and more. Cui was in charge.

Yun Cave.

For teachers, and older teachers too.

Dian Cave.

Check everything, for all places. Also, names too.

Jing Hall.

Responsible for a cave’s name. Make recommendations for the names of the places and people.

Xiang Hall.

Records the names of people and the past. As well as where they have been.

There were others.

Those people, though, it was said, couldn’t have a place in the hall, though they must get to a good place.

It had just been established.

Mi was there, and then others too, which made the group very jealous.

Secret Hall.

Keep books and records.

The Cave, the gold, the tools and more.