The pavilion bore a name long as a winter night, “Eternal Life, Endless Joy, Eyes Fixed on Ageless Azure Peaks.” Not far distant stood another, simply dubbed “Ting Ting,” a playful echo.

Wei Bo laughed, “What manner of celestial squall was that sword-light? Such a tumult! Surely not the doing of Mister Xiao Mo?”

Indeed, beyond the bounds of Northern Peak’s Cloud-Veiled Mountain, the newly appointed deities of all four other Sacred Peaks had issued stark decrees. No office, no spirit within their domains, was to utter so much as three words concerning the event. No gatherings, no wild speculations. Should such transgressions be unearthed, their next celestial assessment would be lowered by a rank.

While mountain and river spirits might hold their tongues, they could not bind the minds of roaming cultivators. “Could it be that young Hermit Warden from Fallen Peak again?” Rumors raced across the lands, keeping scribes of every mountain gazette in a frenzy. One could only imagine the mood amongst the sword-sages of True Yang Mountain.

Chen Ping An did not rush to reply. He settled into the pavilion, crossed his legs, gave his long robe a playful shake, and exuded an air of leisurely ease.

Wei Bo sat opposite him. “Spare me the dithering. Give me a straight answer.”

Chen Ping An smiled. “Xiao Mo has ascended to the Fourteenth Realm.”

Though the conclusion lurked in Wei Bo’s heart, hearing it spoken still sent a tremor through him.

The gulf between the Soaring Ascension Realm and the Fourteenth Realm? A chasm beyond compare!

The difficulty of achieving perfect Harmony? Like filling an ocean with mountain stone!

Wei Bo leaned against a railing, silent for a long while. At last, he drawled, “Satisfying.”

Then, sharp and sudden, Chen Ping An called, “Wei Bo.”

Wei Bo halted, turning back in query. “Aye?”

Chen Ping An straightened, made a fist, and tapped his heart, then tapped his brow. “All these years… thank you.”

Wei Bo blinked, then scoffed. “Sentimental fool.”

He strode away, raising an arm in farewell to the former sandal-clad boy, the erstwhile Earth God with his golden ear-ring.

All was understood without words, a warm and pleasant scene.

But then Chen Ping An’s voice rang out, “That *Calligraphy of Immortals Ascending* you borrowed, Lord Wei?”

Wei Bo spun around. “Borrowed? Calligraphy? Speak louder, Chen Sword-Immortal, I can’t quite hear!”

Chen Ping An laughed, leaping from the pavilion to clap a hand on Wei Bo’s shoulder. “Why so vexed, my friend?”

Wei Bo shrugged off the gesture. “Don’t presume intimacy, we are hardly bosom companions. I’ll fetch the calligraphy myself and have it delivered to Master Chen.”

Chen Ping An roared with laughter.

Wei Bo felt a blush of self-consciousness, yet maintained his scowl. They walked shoulder to shoulder for a few paces, before he, too, succumbed to a smile.

As they strolled, Chen Ping An requested Wei Bo’s aid. He wished him to keep watch for Ma Ku Xuan’s last disciple. Should the boy return to Northern Peak’s territory, Wei Bo should direct him to Fallen Peak and the Hall of Soaring Fowl. The woodcutter lad had once asked before Ma Ku Xuan, upon the Sword Qi Great Wall, if Chen Ping An would take him as a student. Chen Ping An did not seek to steal Ma Ku Xuan’s heir, but merely to bestow upon the youth a scroll of thunder-magic.

He further asked Wei Bo to petition the Rite Office of Northern Peak to extend an invitation to Zhou Qiong Lin of the Azure Plum Nunnery, bidding her “seek inspiration” upon Cloud-Veiled Mountain. A passing mention of Fallen Peak would also be welcome, with the proviso that her “Mirror-Flower, Water-Moon” earnings be shared evenly.

The first request was simple. But upon hearing the second, Wei Bo chuckled, “If memory serves, the mountainside opinion of Lady Zhou’s ‘Mirror-Flower, Water-Moon’ is… middling, at best. The old fogeys and moral guardians will scarcely approve. Why court her favor so roundaboutly?”

Chen Ping An smiled. “By chance.”

Wei Bo did not press the matter. “Anything else your Excellency requires?”

Chen Ping An answered, “I struck a bargain with Cai Jin Jian of Green Cypress Peak, yet Fallen Peak has not received its due of fifty jins of Cloud-Root Stone and two hundred tubes of Cloud-Haze Incense. I hesitate to hound him with a flying-sword missive, lest I appear to be dunning a debt. Perhaps your good offices could hasten matters?”

Wei Bo countered, “You deem it improper to send a demanding letter, yet find it acceptable for me, who has no stake in the matter, to do so with a flying sword?”

Chen Ping An ignored him, musing aloud, “Perhaps Lord Wei could add a word of congratulations to Marquis Huang Zhong, that blessed pair of lovebirds? Indeed, I have played Cupid’s role this time. Frankly, Huang should offer me thanks.”

Huang Zhong, Marquis of Tilled Cloud Peak, had not only become Lord of Cloud-Haze Mountain, but, through Chen Ping An’s orchestration, had finally wedded Wu Yuan Yi.

Wei Bo’s interest piqued. “Cupid, you say? Elaborate.”

Chen Ping An recounted how he had wheedled wine from Huang, how Huang had threatened him, and how he had, in turn, “repaid kindness with vengeance,” weaving a thread of fate. Wei Bo found the tale amusing and laughed heartily.

Reaching the vicinity of “Ting Ting,” where the air hung thick with idle chatter, they once more took their seats.

Chen Ping An recalled a further matter. “South Peak is preparing for festivities, has it not? How many spirit officials versed in banquet protocols have they borrowed from your peak? Surely five or six dozen?”

Wei Bo rubbed his temples. “Open-mouthed lioness! She demanded two hundred, outright. I barely scraped together a hundred and fifty, and yet Fan Jun Mao deems it insufficient, suspecting me of wishing her ill fortune.”

Chen Ping An chuckled. “Why not simply hold the Night Roaming Banquet upon Cloud-Veiled Mountain?”

“Precisely!”

Wei Bo twirled the golden earring between his fingers, sighing. “She declares she will either do nothing or do it grandly. I hoped to fob her off with a few platitudes, but she proves remarkably shrewd. She knows our peak’s ritual lore better than I do! It cannot be her first banquet. I suspect Wang Juan, Mountain God of Gathered Herbs Mountain, is whispering treacherous advice.”

Chen Ping An stroked his chin. “I wager you are right. I have dealt with Wang Juan on several occasions. An organized mind, a deep impression. Dignified, regal even. That plum-sized gem of hers is truly inspired. At first glance, it steals the breath. But linger and speak, and one finds a merchant of great skill and business acumen. Lord Fan will never want for funds with a steward like that.”

Wei Bo had not considered it, but now, as Chen Ping An lavished praise upon Wang Juan, a seed of doubt took root. Before he could voice it, Chen Ping An inquired, “Did you negotiate a share in the proceeds, given the loan of so many staff?”

Wei Bo shook his head. “We are colleagues, after all. I could not bring myself to haggle.”

Chen Ping An nodded sagely. “Indeed, indeed.”

Wei Bo laughed suddenly. “Hypocrite! Play your games! Fan Jun Mao confided everything in her letters. I merely sought to gauge your honesty, Chen Sword-Immortal. You have not disappointed me.”

Chen Ping An scoffed, unfazed. “Cease your trickery.”

Wei Bo said, “South Peak, after all, lies beyond the writ of Great Li now. Fan Jun Mao’s stance towards our empire is delicate, and of consequence.”

He closed his eyes in thought. After a time, Chen Ping An folded his sleeves and said slowly, “I hear tell of a tributary state near the Great Gully, acting with furtive boldness these many years, seeking to cast off its subservience. This year, with a new sovereign upon the throne, the desire has become overt. Almost a declaration to cross blades with Great Li. It is said that from emperor to peasant, from general to mountain immortal, their hearts are united, their fearlessness absolute. Rather than live a life of shame before their ancestors, they would face glorious death, securing their place in the annals. Thus, from distant provinces, they gather two elite armies to seek redress from the court of Great Li. Even the emperor’s own brother, a royal prince, and the venerable Minister of Rites dare to venture into the Li capital without escort, inviting the blade to fall upon their necks?”

Wei Bo said, “Song Mu, the Prince of Luo, and the Ministries of Rites and Heraldic Ceremonies are at a loss as to how to handle such brazenness. The Ministry of War, of course, desires a swift resolution. They would gather forces from two provinces and march upon that nation’s capital. Jin Qing is enraged by this, and sought audience with the new emperor and his mother, the Dowager Empress, who only last year relinquished her regency. But he was rebuffed. Their resolve is unwavering. The Empress Dowager even declared, ‘My nation’s mountains and rivers are supported by the people’s hearts. Let Great Li’s iron horse pillage as it will. Victory or defeat, life or death, we hold them as naught!’ But the court is divided. His Imperial Majesty has his own counsel, I suspect. Hence the delay.”

A new emperor, ambitious nobles, self-serving immortals… all had their private aims. Since becoming a tributary of Great Li, the mere notion of Li’s clearing of royal estates, the usurpation of lands by powerful families, and the imposition of farmland taxes had angered many of the local gentry. Moreover, there were over a dozen more Li policies that were akin to desecrating their ancestral tombs. Add to this, several nascent dynasties to the south whispering dissent in their ears. The common folk, however, knew little of such courtly machinations. The Empress Dowager, with her officials, had for six years crafted policies that appeared distinct from and more generous than those of Great Li. With the pens of countless scholars and the tongues of those who gathered to discuss politics, even the children branded Great Li as a foe.

Small wonder that the rumors spread that the Dowager Empress had rebuked the Central Peak’s Spirit Lord Jin Qing, saying, “Our lands are sustained by the hearts of our people. Let the iron horse of Great Li come and plunder as it will. Life, death, victory, or defeat, we shall not fear!”

Chen Ping An asked, “Is Jin Qing’s fury genuine, or merely feigned for the court’s benefit?”

Wei Bo replied, “Genuine.”

Chen Ping An smiled. “By ill fortune, the ruler of this land is also the emperor’s brother. A situation that must sicken His Majesty and Song Ji Xin.”

“Remember when the iron horse of Great Li swept southward? This nation quickly surrendered. In the battle for Central Treasure Bottle Continent, it was among the first to offer allegiance to a certain demon horde. Grand Strategist Cui then purged a great number of officials and cultivators. After the war, he culled another wave of rabble-rousing commoners. The old emperor’s head was personally struck by the former Patrol Envoy Su Gao Shan.”

Wei Bo sighed. “If war breaks out, it will be the people who suffer. They have only tasted a few years of peace. And those young border soldiers, most said to be barely twenty years…”

Wei Bo looked at Chen Ping An. “What is to be done?”

Chen Ping An said calmly, “I will see to it.”

Wei Bo said, “Then spare no time on your trip to the capital. Hurry it along. Chen Ping An, I do not ask this on behalf of His Majesty.”

Chen Ping An nodded. “Very well.”

Wei Bo scoffed. “Am I being impudent to address the Master Chen in such a way?”

Chen Ping An nodded. “Slightly.”

Wei Bo rose, laughing. “Show some decency!”

Chen Ping An rose with him, and together they left the pavilion.

Wei Bo could not resist asking, “Is this not too difficult? Can you truly resolve it?”

“I can resolve it.”

Chen Ping An nodded. “I recall a hero saying that to reason with those who will not reason is to abandon reason yourself.”

Wei Bo was curious. “Introduce me to this unreasonable hero one day.”

“Certainly.”

Chen Ping An said with a straight face, “Lord Wei encountered that handsome, dashing, young hero upon Checkerboard Mountain.”

Wei Bo slapped Chen Ping An hard on the shoulder. “Such an honest lad, you were! Now you boast without shame, drink like a fish, and puff on a pipe!”

Chen Ping An was silent for a long while, then said, “I shall not allow the Sword Qi Great Wall or the Great Li Dynasty to end in ignominy upon my watch.”

Wei Bo smiled knowingly, and spoke in his heart’s voice, “Mei Zheng, the Daoist has sought you out. I must withdraw. By the way, this new initiate, ‘Spirit Channel,’ using the guise of Zhou Ai, is in truth… Hai.”

Chen Ping An immediately reached out and grabbed Wei Bo’s arm. “Do not flee!”

But Wei Bo had already retreated to Cloud-Veiled Mountain, his laughter echoing near the pavilion.

How many obstacles in life are swept aside, leading to sudden understanding?

We meet in the nascent green, hearts bared, words unnecessary.

Zhou Hu, descending the path, clasped his hands in greeting. “Greetings, Lord Chen.”

The woman’s beauty was ethereal, her presence that of the forest.

Chen Ping An stood at the foot of the pavilion steps. “Welcome, Spirit Channel, to your hermitage upon Leaping Fish Mountain.”

Zhou Hu smiled. “I could not have imagined that one born of the demons would be able to cultivate anew upon the peaks of the Warden-Hermit.”

Chen Ping An replied, “We both owe a debt to Teacher Zheng.”

Zhou Hu had many questions, wishing to ask the young Warden-Hermit face to face. But now that they had met, he felt no need to speak of them. With shared understanding, they nodded in respect, then brushed past each other, one returning to the summit, the other continuing his descent.

Within his heartscape, Chen Ping An carefully attempted to wield a technique that was both Daoist art and swordsmanship.

Alas, his Daoist power was lacking. It was merely a castle in the air.

An empty shell, devoid of Daoist verve and intent.

On a whim, he summoned Xiao Mo and gave a few words of instruction. When Xiao Mo reached Daoist Temple, he was to treat it as home, but not too much like home. Xiao Mo nodded with a smile. Chen Ping An then inquired about Fu Xuan Jie of the Azure Divinity Dynasty, asking about his talent. Xiao Mo said Fu Xuan Jie’s talent was quite good, though less so than that of Chai Wu.

Chen Ping An could not help but think, this Fu Xuan Jie, how dare he! Seeking an official seal was minor. But that inscription…

The next time they met, it would be awkward.

He resolved to avoid him, if possible.

Chen Ping An said, “I will send you to the firmament, and offer a few words to that master.”

A figure in azure rose, riding the wind straight to the Treasure Bottle Continent’s firmament.

He flew through layers of clouds like steps on a celestial ladder.

Xiao Mo followed close behind on his sword.

Unexpectedly, the girl in the sable hat also tagged along. While the Mountain Lord conversed with the old master, Xie Gou, too, wished to imitate the Mountain Lord’s wife by straightening Xiao Mo’s collar.

But Xiao Mo moved first, pressing the sable hat down. “While I am away, take good care of the Mountain Lord.”

Xie Gou sniffled. “Xiao Mo, it is an unfamiliar land. Take care of yourself.”

Xiao Mo said helplessly, “I am on good terms with Daoist Bi Xiao. It will not be unfamiliar.”

Chen Ping An stood beside the old master who guarded the firmament, smiling. “Feel free to linger a while longer.”

Xie Gou waved a hand, declaring, “A heart of devotion for ten thousand years, needs not the setting sun!”

Xiao Mo stepped through the gate, his form disappearing into the river of time. He glanced back at the sable-hatted girl skipping in squares.

Reaching the brilliant moonlight, he descended before the Daoist Temple, where a door god wielding an iron mace growled, “Who comes here? Declare your Daoist name!”

Xiao Mo smiled. “I am from Fallen Peak of the Magnificent Land, my Daoist name is ‘Candle of Joy.’ I seek Daoist Bi Xiao for wine and a few words besides.”

Gu He frowned in displeasure. “Wine?!”

The temple guardian waved a dismissive hand. “Away with you! I shall not trouble the abbot. Do not mistake kindness for a donkey’s liver. I am protecting you from misfortune! No need to thank me. Just be sure to stay indoors for a while… and do not panic if lightning strikes the mountain…”

Xiao Mo recognized the door god’s true form, but feigned ignorance to spare the guardian’s Daoist heart.

A gaunt Daoist hurried from the temple, explaining, “Mister Xiao Mo, my master is personally refining a supreme elixir in seclusion. Before closing the door, he instructed that he would receive no visitors for the time being.”

“Greetings, Daoist Wang.”

Knowing that Daoist Bi Xiao was deigning to refine an elixir himself, Xiao Mo, though surprised, bowed to Wang Yuan Lu. “I am not in a rush. I will wait within.”

Wang Yuan Lu bowed deeply in return, not daring to look up. “I dare not accept such a courtesy. Mister Xiao Mo is an old friend of my master. We cannot upset the order of seniority.”

He could not help it. It was not merely ceremony. Mister Xiao Mo had given him a great deal the last time he had visited.

Gu He was flustered. What? Had he encountered a powerhouse again?

An earth-shattering blast emanated from the alchemy furnace, shaking the entire temple and dispersing several protective formations.

A sooty, dazed acolyte stood amidst the ruins.

Just a few hours away from completion! A few hours! Not days, not years!

Could not the master have waited?

Not only had he ruined a guaranteed elixir, but he had also destroyed a good-quality furnace! The old Daoist paid it no heed. He waved his horsetail whisk, scattering the dust, and strode towards the temple gate, fuming. “Why so late? Such disrespect!”

“I returned to Fallen Peak only recently. How much more respect do you want?”

Xiao Mo retorted. “If you truly wish to show respect, why not come to Fallen Peak for a drink?”

Gu He’s Daoist heart trembled.

Chen Qing Liu, that highly skilled swordsman, had been polite when he had met the abbot, addressing him as fellow Daoist without any arrogance. How could this man be so rude?

Perhaps the abbot wished to make him the temple doorman?

The old Daoist pointed his whisk at Xiao Mo. “Only you could speak such words!”

Xiao Mo said, “Before we drink, I must speak of two matters.”

The old Daoist frowned. “Drink first, speak later!”

Xiao Mo remained unmoved.

The old Daoist sighed. “Speak briefly, lest you delay our drinking. I have brewed a new wine, and you must compare it with that of the Myriad Years.”

Xiao Mo said, “The important matter is that, after we have drunk, you must accompany me to the Year-End Palace. I have need to retrieve a few items.”

“The trivial matter is that I wish to give the Azure Cloud Mountain of Soaring Fowl Continent to Sky-Song Village. That Liu fellow is not a bad sort. He almost died in that battle, and if not for Qi Ting Ji’s help, he would have lost more than just his realm. As such, he has not tarnished the name of Azure Cloud Mountain. To be clear, after we return from the Year-End Palace, I must trouble you again to arrange a room. I intend to stay for several days.”

The old Daoist smiled. “Was this giving the Azure Cloud Mountain, Chen Ping An’s idea?”

Xiao Mo strode across the threshold. “My idea. Where is your wine, Daoist?”

He did not even wait for the old Daoist to agree to his proposals.

The old Daoist laughed heartily, hurrying after him. “More than enough!”

Gu He asked quietly, “Who is that? His face is worth more than Heaven!”

The dejected acolyte ignored him, squatting on the steps, wishing he could die.

Wang Yuan Lu smiled. “A close friend of the master. His closest, in fact.”

Gu He was puzzled. “A senior? I did not notice.”

Wang Yuan Lu said, “I am not certain of Mister Xiao Mo’s status myself.”

The acolyte rose and returned to his room, sulking.

Before long, a great cultivator unfurled an avatar, soaring through the sky to the moon.

Doing so was akin to bowing before the abbot under the gaze of all the world.

Gu He was surprised that the abbot had not swatted him back down to the mortal realm.

The refined Daoist closed his avatar. It was Yao Qing of the Azure Divinity Dynasty.

Yao Qing saw the gaunt Daoist before the temple. “Wang Yuan Lu, I do not seek Abbot Bi Xiao. I have come for you.”

Wang Yuan Lu cowered, not daring to stand. “What do you want from me?”

Rich and poor are divided even among the Five Mausoleums youths.

And who among them does not admire or fear Yao Qing?

Yao Qing did not rush to speak. He admired the beauty of the mortal realm.

The moon over the sea, solitary smoke beyond the frontier, orchid in a valley, a beauty before her mirror.

A crane in flight, fine clothing on a spirited horse, fierce passions, a youth braving the rain with wine.

Yao Qing said, “Wang Yuan Lu, is Daoist Sun dead?”

Wang Yuan Lu was stunned. Slowly he rose, and with a gaze that was no longer meek, he stared at the new Fourteenth Realm. “Yao Qing, what do you say?”

Yao Qing answered in a riddle, “Dare you, as a remnant of the Five Pecks of Rice Sect, accompany me to the Year-End Palace to meet Wu Shuang Jiang?”

Wang Yuan Lu narrowed his eyes. “When?”

Yao Qing said, “Now.”

Wang Yuan Lu said, “Very well.”

Yao Qing smiled. “You need not consider?”

Wang Yuan Lu did not reply. He descended the steps, turned to face the temple, and bowed low.

“Master, from today hence, I am no longer a registered Daoist of Daoist Temple.”

“Take care, Master. I hope all is well with you. Find another apprentice, one who is more talented and filial.”

“I am sorry, Master, I must bid you farewell.”

Without appearing, the old abbot exclaimed in surprise, “In all the world, there is only the master who casts out a disciple, and the disciple who expels his master from the sect?”

Wang Yuan Lu pressed his forehead to the ground, choking with emotion. “It is I who am disloyal! I shall never forget Master’s kindness!”

He struck his head several more times.

The old abbot said impatiently, “Enough! Stand up. From now on, do not tell others you are my disciple.”

Wang Yuan Lu wished only to kneel before his master, his face smeared with tears and mud.

The old abbot snorted. “If you do not rise, I shall undo your Daoist training and cast you into the Year-End Palace!”

Wang Yuan Lu scrambled to his feet, his face streaked with mud, and looked at Yao Qing, unsure what to do.

Yao Qing smiled. “Did your master not order you to conceal your heritage outside the temple? Do not flaunt the banner of Profound Capital Temple to bully others.”

Wang Yuan Lu pondered. “I am not certain.”

He thought for a moment, then said, “Master, if someone kills me one day, you must avenge me!”

The old abbot stroked his beard and smiled. Xiao Mo, you see, this is the troublemaker I took in.

Xiao Mo sighed. “Like calls to like. You have taken on a worthy disciple, Daoist. I must propose a toast.”

At the Earth’s Belly Mountain, the sword cultivator Gao Qiong and the descendant of the Hong Nong Yang clan journeyed to her hometown, Xu County of Ying Chuan Prefecture in Ru Zhou.

At the Crimson Gold Dynasty of Ru Zhou, at Crow Mountain, Lin Jiang Xian was introducing Su Village to Zhu. Zhu was curious about the Jeweled Grotto, and asked about its customs and history.

At Fallen Peak, in the Bamboo Building.

Little money-knot Pei Qian, the girl in the pink skirt, the girl in black, and the incense spirit from the City God Temple all hid on the second floor, sat in the corridor, and leaned against the wall, munching on melon seeds.

Warm Tree helped the incense spirit peel a seed. The little fellow sat in one half of the seed shell, clutching the kernel.

Their lineage in the Bamboo Building had high standards, did it not?

Warm Tree wore a thimble, biting off a thread, a fragrant camphor wood basket filled with sewing at her feet.

Warm Tree said, “Has that fellow gone drinking and feasting again?”

Small Rice Grain scratched his cheek. “Jing Qing said to keep it secret.”

The incense spirit sighed. “Jing Qing is good, except he likes his morning drink too much.”

Warm Tree said gently, “All good? Not quite.”

The incense spirit said, “Sister Warm Tree, it’s not that I’m making excuses for Jing Qing. He’s loyal. He’s generous with his friends. If he has something good, he’s sure to think of the Lord first, then his friends.”

Small Rice Grain nodded. “That’s right. Jing Qing doesn’t look down on anyone.”

Warm Tree nodded, then tapped her forehead. “I’ll believe half of what you say, considering how well you two get along.”

Small Rice Grain puffed out her cheeks, hands on her hips.

Pei Qian, who had been meditating, opened her eyes and waved an almond cake before Small Rice Grain.

Small Rice Grain did not move, her eyes tracking the treat. Ha! You want it? The girl in black opened her mouth and snatched it!

Warm Tree asked quietly, “Pei Qian, is it true?”

Pei Qian replied, “Yes.”

Small Rice Grain said, “Happiness should be shared, and so should anger! It’s not money. You don’t have to save it.”

Pei Qian pinched her cheek. “The smallest, yet knows the most.”

The incense spirit said, “Smallest here! Smallest here!”

Small Rice Grain gave a thumbs up. It would be recorded in its book of merit.

Warm Tree asked, “Small Rice Grain, have you really decided to travel to Central Continent? It’s far away.”

Small Rice Grain scratched his head. “Staying put in my Grotto Realm isn’t right, either. I want to grow too. I won’t cause trouble. I won’t hold them back.”

Warm Tree said, “It’s not you I’m worried about. It’s Jing Qing. He’s reckless and rash. It’s far from Fallen Peak, not even in the Treasure Bottle Continent. I’m afraid he’ll panic and not take care of you.”

Small Rice Grain shook her head. “Jing Qing is careful. Yun Zi of Grey Haze Mountain admires him.”

Pei Qian laughed. “It’ll be fine. The Master has agreed. We’re not worried.”

Warm Tree sighed. She had sewn several new pairs of cloth shoes, big ones and small ones.

Even the incense spirit had two tiny pairs. But it was loath to wear them, saving them for temple festivals.

Beyond Small Rice Grain’s Grotto Realm and Warm Tree’s bottleneck in the Dragon Gate Realm, she was a destiny flame snake born from Cao’s Zilan Building of the Yellow Court Kingdom, and had a long-standing Daoist connection with Lu Yan, the Pure Yang Master.

Warm Tree whispered, “Small Rice Grain, you have to watch him.”

Small Rice Grain stood straight. “Understood!”

At the back of Fallen Peak, Cao Yin, son of Cao of the Upright Pillar Kingdom, and his bodyguard Cao Yang, saw a woman strolling to the gate. She claimed to be a new registered cultivator from Leaping Fish Mountain, Zhou Ai, the Daoist Spirit Channel.

At Flower Shadow Peak and Oriole Song Peak, martial arts prodigies and cultivators had, under the sway of Master Zheng Da Feng and the prompting of apprentice master Wen Zai Xi, truly become “enemies turned friends.”

Since his first “defeat,” Old Deaf, the Daoist Dragon Voice, also known as Gan Tang, had sworn revenge. He had moved to the mountain and became engrossed in teaching. He gave personalized lessons to each alchemist and supervised their progress.

He had only been doing his duty before. But now that he had boarded this pirate ship, he would help Fallen Peak to the best of his ability.

What? Now you brats think you can slack off? I can’t afford to lose face.

Besides, Bai Jing and Xiao Mo had reached the Fourteenth Realm. Old Deaf wanted to ask them for advice.

Zheng Da Feng and Wen Zong Shi came by to listen to Old Deaf’s teaching.

The few Peach Amulet Mountain Daoists were also teachers, and half students of Old Deaf, so they sat at the back.

Wen Zai Xi had become shameless. Eavesdropping? Was that against the rules? They were all part of Fallen Peak now.

Zheng Da Feng looked at a certain maiden. She was not disgusted by the Zheng, just annoyed.

Old Deaf led the pair out of the “schoolroom.” He told Wen Zai Xi not to stand there, but to come in and sit. Wen Zai Xi did so without hesitation.

Old Deaf put his hands behind his back. “Da Feng, I’m not selfish. I let you come here. Say a few good words for me to Bai Jing and Xiao Mo.”

Zheng Da Feng laughed. “Easy.”

They walked along a path filled with wild flowers and weeds.

Old Deaf sighed and said, “I’ve always wanted to be a real sword cultivator.”

He had always claimed to be one. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have fought Chen Qing Du upon the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Zheng Da Feng made a drinking gesture. “Want some? I’m free anyway. I’ll drink the wine, and you can spill your troubles.”

Old Deaf nodded and led Zheng Da Feng to find some wine. He didn’t have any celestial liquor, only the stuff in those Daoists’ huts.

It wasn’t that Old Deaf didn’t have a natal sword, but he had his reasons. His sword Dao was unique. He had two natal swords, but their powers clashed! If he cultivated one, the other would suffer. And to cultivate them together? It was like a pure martial artist who had no one to spar with, so he beat himself to train his body.

The difficulty was known only to him.

Cultivation was not difficult!

Sword cultivation was苦!

Old Deaf never spoke of these matters, especially since he was a demon sword cultivator in the Sword Qi Great Wall. Who could he talk to?

In his early years, the Old Sword Immortal had said, “Your situation was common ten thousand years ago. Of course, there were ways to resolve it.”

Old Deaf knelt and begged Chen Qing Du for advice.

Chen Qing Du said, “I don’t know how to resolve it. You’re praying at the wrong temple.”

Old Deaf cried bitterly.

Chen Qing Du took pity and said, “Be patient. Maybe you’ll find a way. If it’s your fate, you can’t avoid it. If it’s your opportunity, you’ll take it.”

Old Deaf stood up, wiping his face.

Chen Qing Du added, “I doubt it.”

Old Deaf knelt again.

Chen Qing Du helped him up and smiled. “With your devotion, what opportunity can’t you have?”

They had only wanted to drink a little, but Old Deaf was drunk and weeping.

Chen Ping An left the firmament with Xie Gou, returning to the mortal realm. But not to Fallen Peak. Instead, to the outer city wall of Great Li’s capital.

It was noon. The sun shone, as if a giant was sprinkling gold upon the earth.

Chen Ping An stood here for the second time. The first time had been at night.

A man in a long azure robe and cloth shoes, and a girl in a sable hat, Mountain Lord and servant, one silent, the other sat on the wall, idly raising the rank-three offering plate issued by the Great Li Ministry of Justice.

The outer city soldiers recognized the Sword Immortal and did not bother the young Warden-Hermit.

From noon to dusk to late at night, the patrol rotated.

The man in azure watched the road outside the city.

After the morning court, the Imperial Study held a small council as usual. Today, there were more people than usual. His Imperial Majesty and the Great Li officials discussed matters, but were distracted.

They kept looking at the empty seat.

As the meeting was about to end, a figure in azure entered the room, one hand behind his back, the other raised.

Chen Ping An sat in the empty seat. “How many idle sword barges does Great Li possess?”