In the realms of cultivation, where some sought solace in secluded contemplation, others found delight in the vibrant tapestry of worldly affairs.

Lord Liu Daochun of White Emperor City belonged firmly to the latter camp.

Indeed, Liu Daochun *was* the very embodiment of lively chaos.

For few practitioners in the vast and wondrous realm could claim to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Gu Qingsong.

Once subdued by the Dragon Tiger Mountain Celestial Master himself, a feat that required the deity to descend from the heavens, Liu Daochun had slumbered for a millennium. Upon his “awakening,” he adopted the name Liu Chicheng, seemingly having matured in his slumber… seemingly.

Liu Chicheng had first sailed on a transcontinental vessel to the northern reaches of Treasure Bottle洲, then transferred to a Longchun Palace vessel bound south. He intended to disembark at Ox Horn渡 and venture to the forlorn mountain.

That day, Liu Chicheng emerged from his cabin, strolled to the ship’s prow, and leaned against the railing, feigning deafness to the hushed whispers that followed him. The vessel boasted taverns and eateries, and Liu Chicheng was a frequent patron, accustomed to the attention.

As a master of the Glazed Pavilion and the junior brother of the White Emperor City Lord, Liu Chicheng had diligently obeyed his senior brother’s commands, aiding his nephew Fu Jin in establishing a branch sect. The senior brother had “divided” White Emperor City, allocating significantly fewer assets to his youngest disciple Gu Can than to his eldest, Fu Jin. Liu Chicheng, naturally, found this arrangement agreeable, as it bolstered the strength and resources of his own “parent sect.” Gu Can’s sect, by comparison, was merely a “sub-sect” of the ancestral “orthodox” White Emperor City. This allowed his own faction to bask in both prestige and substance.

Now, taking a break from his duties, he returned to Treasure Bottle洲, revisiting old haunts, his heart brimming with mingled emotions.

He had once tasted the sting of a sword in a dilapidated temple, wielded by a certain individual.

Later, within the fox-realm domain of the Xu Clan in Qingfeng City, he had engaged in a minor skirmish with a scholar surnamed Li from Pearly Cave Heaven.

Nothing serious, just a bit of good-natured jostling.

His senior brother, ever considerate, had assigned Lady Han Qiaose to assist Gu Can. Were Liu Chicheng to have been similarly positioned, he would have been feigning death.

“Senior brother, you may empty White Emperor City, expelling all registered cultivators and vagrants alike, but as long as the Glazed Pavilion remains within its walls, I, your humble junior brother, will remain, diligently cultivating alongside you.”

Now, clad in a rose-colored Daoist robe, Liu Chicheng was a flamboyant spectacle, indifferent to being recognized.

For Lady Han Qiaose had recently confided a momentous secret, delivering it in a single, heavily-laden missive:

“Brother, three.”

Upon receiving this message, Liu Chicheng trembled, tears welling in his eyes. This news brought more joy than his own consecutive breakthroughs into the Ascended realm.

Having felt his own cultivation lacking, Liu Chicheng now brimmed with confidence.

The heavens were vast, and no place was beyond his reach. Not only the Nine洲 of the realm, but even the Buddhist Kingdom of the West and the Fourteen洲 of Azure Firmament Heaven were open to him!

What harm could little Treasure Bottle洲 possibly inflict?

He had once casually taken two disciples in this land, disciples he had nearly forgotten.

This journey to Treasure Bottle洲, however, was primarily intended to allow Liu Chicheng to rekindle his bond with his sworn brother, Chen Ping’an.

During their previous encounter at Zhang Zhi’s Burden Hall in Parrot洲, the Mountain Master had lacked ready funds and had borrowed some Celestial Coins from both him and Madam Tuoyan. The sum was insignificant, but between brothers, accounts must be settled. Thus, if Chen Ping’an mistakenly believed him to be a debt collector, well, so be it.

On the transcontinental vessel, Liu Chicheng had befriended several individuals from the cultivation circles, and they had agreed to travel south together, to the former site of Pearly Cave Heaven.

Liu Chicheng had emerged from his cabin that day because the scroll described a cloud sea ahead, perpetually coalescing, and vessels passing through it were said to be blessed with good fortune, a practice known as “Striking the Motherlode.”

A group of cultivators, men and women alike, gradually gathered around Master Liu, fawning upon him, content to be mere foils. An Jade Prime境 practitioner and several Earth Immortals, all minor celebrities in their respective homelands in Middle Earth洲, exuded pride and exchanged witty banter.

In this assembly, Liu Chicheng, resplendent in pink, naturally attracted the most attention.

Invariably, conversations turned to the five mountain deities consecrated by the Wen廟, and, inevitably, to the Young Hidden One and the forlorn mountain.

Whenever Chen Ping’an was mentioned, Liu Chicheng adopted a casual, nonchalant tone, speaking of him as if he were an old friend, referring to him repeatedly as his cherished companion, Mountain Master Chen.

“When we first met, Mountain Master Chen had just left his hometown. Though he carried a sword, he was still a novice, his martial arts barely scratching the surface. I offered him some pointers on stances and footwork…”

“Chen Ping’an was a taciturn fellow in those days, rather withdrawn. But I, Liu, recognized his potential for greatness and often treated him to wine…”

“Back then, the barefoot lad Chen Ping’an would listen intently as I recounted tales of the mountain, all while sipping my mountain-brewed liquor…”

The cultivators from Middle Earth listened in disbelief.

Could this be the Sword Qi Great Wall’s last Hidden One, the closed-door disciple of the Wen聖 lineage? Had he truly endured such humble beginnings, acting as a lackey and mooching drinks?

Upon this very vessel, a middle-aged man wearing a padded coat and a worn-out sable hat stood tall and expressionless, blending into the common folk while standing out amidst the cultivators.

But unlike the motley rabble found at ordinary immortal docks, the mountain vessels acted as sieves, filtering out many who hoped to “strike it rich” among the immortals. After all, boarding required genuine Celestial Coins. Even the Mountain’s current gatekeeper, Immortal Attendant Xian Wei, had been filtered out, merely observing the vessel’s comings and goings from afar, broadening his horizons. So even in his threadbare attire, no one dared to provoke this man on the Longchun Palace vessel.

He was none other than Liu Xu, the current patriarch of Mule Horse River and a Nascent Soul境 swordsman.

Having shared drinks with Chen Ping’an in the capital, Yuan Xuan and the others had returned to Northern Lofty Continent, while Liu Xu continued south, bound for Old Dragon City’s Fu Clan.

He had not intended to visit the forlorn mountain, but Yuan Xuan had sent him a secret message en route, relaying news from the family: a momentous occasion!

Yuan Yizhi, without warning or effort, had been freed from her tormenting nightmare overnight!

The nightmare that had plagued her for a century had vanished in an instant.

Without the need for Yuan Clan experts to verify, Yuan Yizhi, after a night of blissful, dreamless sleep, felt the bottleneck in her Nascent Soul境 loosening, and had begun a formal seclusion.

In the message, Yuan Xuan requested that Liu Xu convey to Mountain Master Chen that the Three Lang廟 would soon offer their profound gratitude, regardless of Yuan Yizhi’s seclusion’s success.

Thus, Liu Xu planned to visit the forlorn mountain and deliver the message.

As for the flamboyant buffoon in the pink Daoist robe, Liu Xu had instantly recognized him. Coupled with the throng of sycophants surrounding him, spouting indiscreet nonsense, Liu Xu deemed him unworthy of his company. Moreover, Liu Xu was unsure of the veracity of Liu Chicheng’s claims, and intended to inquire of Chen Ping’an directly. Frankly, Liu Xu suspected that if Chen Ping’an truly knew such a character, and considered him a friend, it would be rather embarrassing.

The vessel sailed into the white clouds.

The so-called celestial scenery held little appeal for those steeped in wine.

Later, Liu Chicheng and his companions encountered the man in the padded coat once more in the vessel’s tavern, still drinking alone. He was unperturbed by others joining his table. A woman cultivator, with a discerning eye, sensed that this man might be a significant figure, and sat beside him, initiating a conversation. Liu Xu downed a bowl of wine, retrieved two snowflake coins from his sleeve, and stated the name of his cabin on the vessel, declaring it was all the spare money he had. The woman was taken aback, and, enraged, hurled her bowl of wine at him. Liu Xu merely ducked, and she stormed off.

In truth, it was not Liu Xu’s lack of gallantry that was to blame, but the fact that his room was the cheapest on the vessel, shared by several others.

Liu Chicheng, amused, raised his bowl in a toast of goodwill.

Liu Xu glanced at him disdainfully and continued to drink.

Liu Chicheng was unperturbed. He had more than enough magnanimity.

At noon, the vessel finally approached Cloud-Shrouded Mountain.

Having found it too treacherous to explore during his visit with Gu Can to Locust Yellow County, Liu Chicheng hadn’t ventured far.

Now, beholding the mist-veiled outline of the small town once more, he judged it to be a manageable size.

The vessel docked slowly at Ox Horn渡, coming to a gentle stop.

Liu Chicheng walked to the deck, stretching languidly.

Amidst the throng of passengers, Liu Xu adjusted his worn sable hat, his hands tucked into his sleeves, walking close to the railing to give way to others.

At that moment, everyone on Ox Horn渡, both disembarking and boarding, turned to gaze at the same point.

A colossal transcontinental vessel arrived at breakneck speed, beginning as a speck, growing to the size of a bowl, and then rapidly approaching the boundary of Old Pearly Cave Heaven. In an instant, all present were forced to crane their necks to behold the “Wind Kite” vessel, as Ox Horn渡 was enveloped by churning clouds and howling winds.

Upon the “Wind Kite’s” prow stood a white-clad youth with a mole between his brows, his hands behind his head, his sleeves hanging loosely.

Liu Xu squinted, his gaze drawn to the higher reaches of the “Wind Kite.”

The white-clad youth shook his sleeves and snapped his fingers.

In the next instant, the sunlit渡 was plunged into darkness, as a vessel far larger than the “Wind Kite” shed its illusion, looming over Ox Horn渡 like a falling mountain.

This “vessel” bore a towering banner, inscribed with “Azure Reed Sword Sect” on the front, and “Bing Ding” on the back, fluttering in the wind.

A sword ark!

It was one of the legendary Great Li sword arks!

The Great Li Dynasty, in alliance with the Mo Clan, had forged two instruments of war, treasures of the realm. The first was the mountain vessel, capable of transporting tens of thousands of Great Li cavalry. The second was the Great Li sword ark, of which sixty were planned, but only forty-six had been completed by the war’s end. Each sword ark was named after one of the “Sixty Earthly Branches.”

Following the Battle of Old Dragon City, observers estimated that over thirty sword arks had been destroyed in the north, towards the Great Li’s secondary capital and the Great Ditch battlefield. Yet, the most fearsome aspect of the Great Li Dynasty was that, during the final battle around the secondary capital, over fifty sword arks had been deployed simultaneously!

The astronomical cost of each vessel defied calculation. To illustrate, each soldier’s armor was a priceless treasure, and a sword ark was as a cultivator draped in a robe woven from such armor.

As to where the funds had come from…

They had been extracted from Treasure Bottle洲.

From the Great Li Dynasty’s Imperial Study, from the state treasury to the coffers of every pillar surname, from court officials to mountain sects and noble families, from the mountains and rivers of the entire洲.

Outcries? Complaints? None were voiced. The Great Li Dynasty, where a nation was a洲, at least outwardly, knew none, for their Imperial Preceptor was Cui Chan.

The immortal abodes and wealthy clans who fled to other洲 were not intercepted by the Great Li Dynasty. The nation merely became a bit thinner, expelling some excess baggage.

Once the dust settled, some of these individuals quietly returned to Treasure Bottle洲, only to become thinner once more. The turmoil south of the Great Ditch was largely fueled by those unwilling to pay.

Liu Chicheng spotted a red-clad woman with a narrow saber and a silver flask beside the white-clad youth: Li Baoping. Her elder brother, Li Xisheng, was said to be playing chess with the senior brother…

He also recognized Jun Qian, a man of imposing stature, and a youthful boy in a tiger-head cap, Bai Ye. Liu Chicheng had heard a comical anecdote from Lady Han Qiaose, which now seemed less amusing.

Beside Jun Qian stood Chen Ping’an’s first disciple, the realm-reaching martial artist Pei Qian, accompanied by the diminutive old man, Fu Lu Xuan, in a purple Daoist robe.

Li Huai was also present. He was both the first and last disciple of the old blind man from the Ten Thousand Mountains, a man said to have begged him to become his student.

Furthermore, the fox spirit beside the Confucian scholar… Liu Chicheng remembered seeing her at the Resting Dragon Terrace in the sea, attending to a gentle woman who addressed his senior brother by name.

Liu Chicheng swallowed hard, tugged at the collar of his pink Daoist robe, and chuckled. “How fortunate that I am such a close and cherished friend of Hidden One Chen.”

As luck would have it, a ruddy-faced Earth Immortal cultivator inquired, “Master Liu, when shall we visit the forlorn mountain to drink with Mountain Master Chen? Is the Azure Essence Mountain wine truly as exceptional as they say?”

The white-clad youth grinned at Liu Chicheng. Jun Qian and Bai Ye were also staring in his direction, especially Pei Qian, who was giving the Glazed Pavilion master a sidelong glance.

—

Beside Autumn Breath Lake, Chen Ping’an had borrowed a fishing rod and some fermented corn from Yuan Huang.

Zhong Qian arrived belatedly, catching sight of the blue-robed figure by the lake. He quickened his pace, squatting beside him and asking in bewilderment, “Mountain Master Chen, why are you fishing here instead of attending the Grand Arbor Observance?”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “I’ll go later, lest I become an eyesore.”

Zhong Qian nodded. “That makes sense.”

Zhong Qian saw no need to use the martial artist’s technique of focused sound transmission.

This Golden Body境 martial artist was widely regarded as the foremost martial artist in the realm. Yet, his youth and lack of cultivation meant he lacked the fame of the Lake Mountain Sect’s Gao Jun.

Wu Que might have derisively called him effeminate during the Jade Hairpin Island gathering, but would that old man dare say such a thing in Zhong Qian’s presence?

Zhong Qian had a gentle temperament, but in this regard, restraint was paramount. Before reaching the Seventh Realm, nearly all of his altercations had stemmed from the other party’s foul mouth.

Zhong Qian inquired, “Did Senior Zhu not come along?”

Chen Ping’an chuckled. “So, Grandmaster Zhong intends to travel with a chef in tow?”

Zhong Qian grinned. “Having tasted Senior Zhu’s cooking, my palate has become spoiled. Nothing else measures up.”

Yuan Huang couldn’t help but turn to look at Zhong Qian.

The Begging Flower Field Mountain Goddess sensed something amiss. Were more talismans needed?

Zhong Qian glanced at the youth sitting nearby, his blade resting on the ground, and asked, “And you are?”

Wu Jiang replied succinctly, “Wu Jiang, a swordsman.”

Zhong Qian nodded. “Young and accomplished, I’ve heard much about you. Hone your blade well, and strive for the top.”

Wu Jiang stiffened. “I shall.”

Acting like a seasoned master, are we? I’ll let it slide, seeing as you’re a friend of Chen Sword Immortal.

It seemed that once martial artists reached the Golden Body First Layer, even simply focusing their minds allowed them to perceive the world anew, vaguely discerning the pathways of flowing energy.

Yuan Huang spoke. “You are Zhong Qian?”

Zhong Qian replied indirectly, giving a thumbs up. “I know you, Yuan Huang. A knight-errant, dispensing justice with gusto, just like the heroes of old.”

Yuan Huang chuckled. “You flatter me.”

Chen Ping’an assisted with the introductions. “This lady is the Mountain Goddess of Begging Flower Field, Folded Leaf Mountain.”

She smiled. “My formal name is Yuan Jiacao, my childhood name, Green Waist.”

Zhong Qian said earnestly, “I’ve never heard of you before, but whenever I pass by, I’ll be sure to offer incense at your Mountain Goddess temple.”

The Mountain Goddess smiled and nodded gently. “It’s settled.”

Zhong Qian was, after all, the object of general desire. The title of foremost martial artist in the realm was no mere jest.

“Tourists” of all sorts flocked to the lake shore, some to exchange a few words, others to offer greetings and introduce themselves from afar.

Before long, Zhong Qian was surrounded by a crowd, martial artists and cultivators alike, all figures of renown in the mountains and rivers.

Unwilling to lose face by turning them away, Zhong Qian cautiously glanced at Mountain Master Chen. Chen Ping’an smiled and nodded, indicating that he didn’t mind, and would enjoy listening to their mountain and water tales.

The conversation grew lively, with the occasional insertion from the blue-robed angler, who was largely ignored. This made Zhong Qian uneasy, not for fear of Chen Ping’an’s anger, for the Mountain Master was known for his tolerance, but for fear that Mi Li would overhear and tease him for months at the dinner table. Could Chen Lingjun possibly spare him? And what of that white-haired child who acted as the Hidden One’s bootlicker, practically engraving the words “I am the Hidden One’s #1 lackey” on his forehead?

Chen Ping’an turned and smiled. “Why, if it isn’t Liu the Immortal Poet. What brings you here?”

A man in a padded coat approached, as silent as a ghost.

Liu Xu squatted beside them, a frown on his face, and said, “Yuan Yizhi has resolved her troubles. Yuan Xuan asked me to express her gratitude, and the Three Lang廟 promises a reward.”

Chen Ping’an asked in bewilderment, “What happened? I did nothing.”

Liu Xu said calmly, “I don’t know. But Yuan Yizhi has begun her seclusion, and seems confident.”

Chen Ping’an suspected Lu Chen’s involvement, knowing the sect master was scheming something. He just didn’t know when, where, and who would be involved.

Liu Xu asked, “Are you well-acquainted with Liu Chicheng?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “We’ve known each other for a long time. Very well.”

Liu Xu shook his head.

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Is he on the mountain now?”

Liu Xu nodded. “We were on the same vessel. On the way here, he was in high spirits, practically declaring himself to be your martial arts and swordsmanship mentor from your youth. He was scared witless when he reached Ox Horn渡.”

Chen Ping’an said, “That’s his style.”

Since their conversation was not conducted via focused sound transmission or mental communication, some eavesdroppers merely noted it in passing. The Three Lang廟, Yuan Yizhi, and Liu Chicheng were all unfamiliar names. As for the one whose name was either Liu or Liu, was he a “Poet Immortal”?

Liu Xu asked mentally, “I heard the highest realm in this Blessed Land is Golden Core?”

A realm-reaching martial artist could deal with a Golden Core realm cultivator as easily as playing a game, even with one hand, lest they accidentally exert too much force.

Chen Ping’an nodded. “Her realm is currently not high, but her future achievements should not be underestimated.”

Liu Xu hesitated, then said, “Don’t be too soft-hearted.”

Chen Ping’an stifled a laugh, nodding vigorously.

Liu Xu said testily, “Damn it, so what if I didn’t enter the Summer Palace? Take it or leave it, that’s my advice.”

Chen Ping’an clasped his fist in his palm and shook it. “I’m listening, of course I’m listening. I have to listen!”

Liu Xu said, “Once I’ve finished my business in Treasure Bottle洲, I might take a detour to Soaring Halberd洲. Is there anything you need me to relay?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “Tell Xuan Can and the others they can withdraw. And thank them for me, reminding them not to bring gifts next time they visit the forlorn mountain.”

Liu Xu was momentarily speechless. After a moment, he rose and said, “Your mountain is too lively for my taste. I’m not used to it, so I’ll be leaving.”

Chen Ping’an didn’t try to detain him. “When you reach Old Dragon City, you can drink with Fan Er.”

Liu Xu glanced at Chen Ping’an, his face incredulous.

Chen Ping’an said with a laugh, “The friend I personally introduce to Liu the Immortal Poet will be just like the flamboyant Liu?”

Liu Xu nodded. “That’s for the best. One Liu Jinglong is enough. Next time I’m at my place, remember to look for me for a drink.”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Of course, of course. Especially if it’s for a wedding!”

He had heard from Yuan Xuan that countless families and immortal abodes in Northern Lofty Continent were eager to marry their daughters or disciples to the Mule Horse River Sword Immortal Clan.

Liu Xu chuckled, kicked a large pebble into the lake, and departed.

Chen Ping’an cursed, “Liu the Immortal Poet, why are you such a jerk? If I speak lightly, it’s like you don’t know what’s good for you, but speaking frankly, you’re ungrateful. Without me, who would know of your eight bushels of talent…”

Liu Xu, his back to the sarcastic Second Shopkeeper, raised a finger.

Zhong Qian asked via focused sound transmission, “Who is that, Mountain Master Chen?”

Chen Ping’an replied mentally, “An old patron of the Sword Qi Great Wall’s liquor store. His surname is Liu, and he’s a swordsman from Northern Lofty Continent. Actually, he’s quite wealthy, but very frugal.”

Zhong Qian glanced at Liu Xu and nodded. “I can tell.”

Chen Ping’an asked in surprise, “Can you tell he’s wealthy, or can you tell he’s stingy?”

Back at the liquor store, Chen Ping’an hadn’t been able to tell that Liu Xu was the young master of Mule Horse River. If not for a liquor store patron revealing his identity, he would have continued to think of Liu Xu as a penniless vagrant.

Zhong Qian said, “As the old saying goes, ‘Poverty is the scholar’s prosperity, frugality is the farmer’s harvest.’ This Sword Immortal Liu wears a worn-out sable hat that he refuses to throw away. That’s both impoverished and frugal. Isn’t that wealth?”

Chen Ping’an exclaimed, “Grandmaster Zhong, you’re quite something. I never realized you were so eloquent. Why don’t you talk more on the mountain?”

No wonder he was enjoying his time at the forlorn mountain so much.

Zhong Qian said, “I don’t leave our mountain often, and at the dinner table, I’m too busy eating, grabbing food, and drinking. What’s there to talk about?”

Chen Ping’an said with a laugh, “You’re shameless enough to call it ‘our’ mountain? You’re just a guest.”

Zhong Qian exclaimed, “Mountain Master, we might be close, and I might admire you, but I really don’t like hearing that. How am I an outsider? I’ve already made several vats of pickled winter vegetables, fermented tofu, and stinky mandarin fish in my residence that already belongs to me!”

Chen Ping’an cursed at him.

Zhong Qian chuckled. “I’m not angry.”

Chen Ping’an cursed again.

Zhong Qian remained unconcerned.

Chen Ping’an then smiled gently. “Don’t pay attention to such nonsense in the future. You can care about it when it comes to fists. Don’t hold back when you’re hitting someone, but don’t take it to heart.”

Zhong Qian nodded.

After a moment of silence, Zhong Qian said softly, “Mountain Master Chen, if I were a woman…”

“Stop!”

Chen Ping’an was instantly covered in goosebumps, almost dropping his fishing rod and running away.

Zhong Qian laughed. “Mountain Master Chen, your reasoning is so unreasonable.”

Chen Ping’an rubbed his chin, seemingly pondering something.

It was now Zhong Qian’s turn to panic, and he quickly clarified, “Mountain Master, I was just joking. Don’t take it seriously. I’ve frequented brothels and caroused with courtesans. I’ve had more than one or two confidantes in the world. If not for that incident that forced me to flee, I would have married long ago. If you don’t believe me, I can introduce you to them. They’re all top-notch beauties, fair-skinned, with big breasts and buttocks…”

Chen Ping’an snapped back to attention and said with a smile, “It’s nothing, I just spaced out for a moment. Such jokes were commonplace back at the liquor store.”

A man with a dignified air approached the shore, smiling and clasping his fist. “Greetings, Mr. Chen.”

It was Wei Liang, the Supreme Emperor of Southern Garden Country, a Dragon Gate境 cultivator.

He was accompanied by a young girl in a dragon robe who resided on Conch Island.

Chen Ping’an smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. “It’s been a while.”

Wei Liang said mentally, “The River God Child, now a ghost, has been seeking revenge on you for years.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Is that the scholar from Southern Garden Country who took the imperial examination in the capital?”

Wei Liang nodded. “It seems I’ve been overthinking things.”

The young girl in the dragon robe stared at Chen Ping’an with gleaming eyes and asked, “Are you the Chen Sword Immortal who wreaked havoc in the Southern Garden capital, beheading Ding Ying on the city walls?”

Everyone said that enlightened mountain practitioners could maintain their youth, and that Yu Zhenyi of Lake Mountain Sect could even revert to his youth. What about this former young Sword Immortal? His temples were already streaked with gray, though his face didn’t show his age.

Chen Ping’an ignored her.

She blinked her eyes. “Hey, I’m talking to you. Why are you pretending to be deaf?”

Wei Liang frowned and scolded, “Behave yourself!”

She pouted.

So what if Wei Liang was the Supreme Emperor of Southern Garden Country? This blue-robed man was nothing less than the Supreme Emperor of this world.

Zhong Qian glanced at Wei Liang, who seemed to have a dragon-like presence coiled around his shoulders, and at the young girl in the dragon robe, who was rumored to be a lizard, field eel, or lake snake. Zhong Qian was now certain that her true form was a transformed green snake. In fact, Zhong Qian’s insight had less to do with his realm as a Golden Body境 martial artist, and more to do with his natural talent for “aura reading.”

The young girl in the dragon robe feigned surprise. “Zhong Qian, Grandmaster Zhong, the foremost in the realm! I’ve long admired you!”

Zhong Qian chuckled. “No need to be polite. You can just call me effeminate.”

The young girl in the dragon robe clutched her chest and said with a smile, “Such a heavy aura of killing intent.”

Wu Jiang maintained his composure, for if not for the fact that this young woman was said to be a water spirit who was proficient in water techniques, and whose realm was not far from that of Gao Jun of Lake Mountain Sect, Wu Jiang would have already spoken out.

Chen Ping’an continued to hold his rod, facing the lake, and said with a smile, “Wei Liang, you brought her here. Aren’t you going to manage her?”

Wei Liang clasped his fist in his palm, offering an apology. “She’s naturally unruly, and I’ve been negligent in my discipline.”

Chen Ping’an grunted.

Wei Liang explained, “She’s accustomed to speaking her mind. I’ll be sure to restrain her when we return.”

In other words, he was asking Mr. Chen to give him some face in front of everyone.

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Knowing my identity and still acting so arrogant, one can only imagine how unruly she is in private. After so many years of management, she’s still like this. Wei Liang, it’s hard to believe your words.”

Wei Liang’s expression immediately darkened.

The young girl in the dragon robe narrowed her eyes. She had only said a few words. Was this Chen Sword Immortal, this so-called “Heaven,” going to start a fight?

Chen Ping’an suddenly raised his rod, the fishing line whistling through the air, instantly ensnaring the young girl’s neck. With another cast, he “baited” her.

The young girl in the dragon robe crashed heavily onto the “frozen” lake surface, instantly losing consciousness.

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “You failed to surpass Gao Jun, the first to form a Golden Core, and resented the heavens in private. Now you dare to resent me? Wei Liang, has the forlorn mountain been too lenient with you?”

Wei Liang was drenched in sweat, and immediately bowed and lowered his head. “I dare not! Please, Mountain Master, quell your anger…”

“You, Wei Liang, will not be attending this Grand Arbor Observance. Return immediately to your royal mausoleum in Southern Garden Country.”

Chen Ping’an placed his fishing rod on the ground and stood up, his illusion vanishing.

He wore a long robe, a blue gauze Daoist robe over it, and carried the Night Traveler Sword.

Wei Liang dared not raise his head, and said in a trembling voice, “I shall obey your command, Mountain Master.”

Zhong Qian, on the other hand, remained unfazed. Here, in the forlorn mountain, he had seen the world.

Wu Jiang nodded inwardly. It was indeed Chen Sword Immortal, without a doubt!

Yuan Huang felt a headache coming on. He thought the talisman in his painting box felt a little hot.

The Mountain Goddess of Begging Flower Field widened her eyes. The real deal was nothing like the rumors!

As for those who had been chatting animatedly with Zhong Qian earlier, they were now looking at each other in confusion, at a loss. Was it too late to mend the fence?

The earth trembled as if thunder had struck, and a violent gale forced everyone back.

A streak of sword light, like a hanging green rainbow, stretched from the shore of Autumn Breath Lake to the Grand Arbor Observance in its center.

—

Inside the fox realm, in a secret chamber, candles thick as arms burned like falling tears.

Heart-rending wails, sobs, and curses rose and fell, eventually fading away.

The enforcers of the fox realm’s Law Lineage, its main members, were gathered there. Since early morning, they had begun interrogating a traitor who had colluded with outsiders. It was a matter of great importance, and they could not afford to be careless.

A pitiable woman, covered in wounds and barely breathing, was nailed to the wall by her hands and feet.

Her pair of moon-white embroidered shoes were soaked in blood.

She was a grotto heaven境 fox spirit who, in accordance with regulations, had been allowed to leave the fox realm to train her Daoist heart in the mortal world. But during this time, she had dared to secretly conspire with a Lake Mountain Sect cultivator behind the backs of her guardian senior elders, repeatedly relaying intelligence about the fox realm to the outside.

Besides the prisoner being tortured, and a young man holding a branding iron in the brazier, there were two tables in the spacious secret chamber, at which the other cultivators from the Law Lineage sat.

The fox realm’s enforcer, an old woman with a ramrod straight back, held an iron-handled whisk, habitually grasping its tassel, producing a faint rustling sound.

The old woman had to personally oversee the interrogation. Her face was ashen, her expression terrible. The ruler had only just left, and such an ugly incident had already occurred. It was truly humiliating!

The old woman stared intently at the woman who deserved a thousand cuts. She had been audacious enough to relay even the secret that “a blue-robed guest visited the ruler’s manor last night.” Did she not know the meaning of death?

If the forlorn mountain found out about this, not only would she, the Golden Core境 enforcer, be unable to clear her name, but ruler Pei Xiang would also be implicated, endangering the entire fox realm!

On the old woman’s table, a fox realm woman cultivator was responsible for recording the proceedings. In fact, she had written only a few words. Next to her sat an old man specializing in punishment, an aging male fox who wasn’t even in the Middle Five境. However, he possessed a multitude of methods, and was valued by the old woman, for he never left the fox realm. There were simply too many enemies eager for revenge.

Of course, he always acted impartially, but those who had suffered at his hands, whether they died or were merely maimed, would never see it that way.

In his life, he had never pursued cultivation breakthroughs, for he simply lacked the talent. Instead, he devoted himself to this, meticulously recording his insights.

The old man was in his element here. What was there to do outside? All sorts of faces, figures, and styles… he had seen them all here.

The founder of the Law Lineage had promised that after his life was over, as a ghost, she would help him gather his soul, and with a new fox pelt, he could continue to stay here.

On another table sat two beautiful women who were out of place in this secret chamber.

Even in the fox realm, where beauties were plentiful, they stood out.

They were ruler Pei Xiang’s two favorite disciples, Luo Fumei and her junior sister Qiu Qing.

Qiu Qing, a grotto heaven境 cultivator, had yet to receive a Daoist name, and was nicknamed Little Armpit by her master.

Her senior sister Luo Fumei, whose Daoist name was Feather Melody, and whose nickname was Ugly Slave, had reached the Dragon Gate境 before the age of thirty, and had a position in the fox realm’s ancestral hall.

Not only were Earth Immortals few and far between, but Luo Fumei also had a hidden identity: she was the deputy of the fox realm’s Law Lineage founder, in charge of intelligence. Occasionally, she would lend a hand, personally interrogating law-breaking cultivators.

The fox spirit talisman beauties that the Xu clan of Qingfeng City sold far and wide were not just the result of fox spirit “shedding their skins”. Many of them were freshly flayed fox pelts, dripping with blood.

In the past, the fox realm had been divided into numerous factions and Daoist lineages, which were constantly fighting. The death of a few cultivators in internal conflicts was nothing. There were even wars involving hundreds of fox realm cultivators. At that time, the ruler Pei Xiang could not control all the factions. She only needed to protect her own territory. The real masterminds behind some of the factions were either an old scoundrel from the Xu clan of Qingfeng City, or the malicious Qingfeng City ruler’s wife.

Thus, the Xu clan of Qingfeng City never bothered with the fox realm’s internal squabbles. The infighting only resulted in more fox pelts and Celestial Coins.

As long as the doors to this hero’s cemetery and gentle haven remained open, the members of the fox clan would continue to multiply. Traveling scholars and mountain cultivators flocked here, indulging in carnal pleasures. Young fox spirits appeared year after year, and the lives of adult male foxes were especially worthless, for they were the first to die in any conflict. There had even been two instances in history when the fox realm had become “overpopulated.” Qingfeng City had simply instigated two internal wars, resulting in a bloodbath.

Qiu Qing, also a cultivator of the Law Lineage, sat upright, staring intently at the tortured woman. She recognized her, and would greet her as Sister Song in passing.

In Qiu Qing’s eyes