The venerable Liu Xianyang commenced the instruction of Chen Ping’an in the ancient, ancestral art of “Dreamwalking” swordsmanship, heedless of Xie Gou’s presence.

Chen Ping’an, a font of questions, was met with Liu Xianyang’s exhaustive and patient answers. Xie Gou, for his part, did not disrupt their exchange of wisdom. He lolled about, yawning, cracking melon seeds with crossed legs, propping his chin in his hand, restless still. Eventually, he lay upon the floor, paddling his sleeves in a mimicry of swimming.

The Mountain Lord furrowed his brow, a fleeting relaxation here and there, or would pause in deep contemplation. As time wore on, the subtle apertures of his face began to glow with a rising violet aura, while about his ears swirled mists revealing miniature, ethereal palaces. Streams of vital energy poured from his nostrils like coiling serpents. Or he would flick a sleeve, performing swift calculations with his fingers, bathing the room in momentary radiance, ripples spreading across the floor around the cushion like patterns in water. Or, with two fingers joined, he would point, and a condensed, inch-long blade of light would flicker and dance. Xie Gou, several times on the verge of interrupting, held his tongue, overcome with a sudden realization of the arduous nature of cultivation.

Time slipped away unnoticed. The girl in the sable cap, mindful of the hour, indicated it was time for a late supper. But Liu Xianyang shook his head slightly, waving her off.

Xie Gou offered his thanks with cupped hands, acknowledging the benefit of overhearing the teachings. Liu Xianyang merely nodded, unconcerned.

Xie Gou tiptoed out of the dwelling, stretched languidly, and invoked the art of earth-shrinking, taking a single stride to reach the slopes of the Spirit Gathering Peak. There, he encountered a group of individuals sauntering along, toothpicks jutting from their mouths.

The sable-capped girl, hands on her hips, fumed. “Zhong Diyi, Wen Zongshi, how shameless are you?” Yet, upon entering the courtyard and reaching the table, they descended upon the food like ravenous wolves. Only Zhu Lian remained reclining in a rattan chair, fanning himself. After the feast, Xie Gou, still picking his teeth, ambled out of the courtyard with the others, belching and complaining that Zhong Diyi’s meal selection had been substandard. Zhong Qian, feigning humility, clasped his hands, bowed, and declared he would strive to improve.

Xie Gou pondered briefly, then led him to a secluded residence, the abode of Jiang She.

Zhong Qian initially demurred, declaring his need for sleep and an early breakfast.

Xie Gou merely bade him follow, chastising his effeminate complaints. “Such a physique of Golden Body Realm, yet so slovenly!”

As they traveled with the sable-capped girl, Zhong Qian felt adrift in fog. He wondered about Jiang’s realm, said to be a relative visiting Pei Qian’s family. He guessed it was a Traveler Realm expert. Surely not Peak Realm? Zhong Qian, after all, was renowned in the Lotus Pond Domain as a foremost martial artist. He knew the weight of a Peak Realm Master. It was merely that here in their desolate Falling Mountain such strength seemed unremarkable. Chen Mountain Lord, Pei Qian, the old cook, the Great Wind brother… and poor Wen, who had forsworn the chance to reach the Peak Realm before descending the mountain.

At last, Zhong Qian beheld Jiang She, cooling himself in the courtyard, a man of imposing stature and presence. In Zhong Qian’s homeland, one would give such a figure a wide berth.

Jiang She merely glanced askance at Zhong Qian, discerning Xie Gou’s intent. He bluntly declared, “I do not teach trash.”

Zhong Qian, unperturbed, grinned. “Did I need you to tell me I was trash? How courteous of you.”

Xie Gou had been prepared to relent, for forced fruits are seldom sweet. But just then, he burped. He turned to Wu Yan, saying, “Listen to this. Is that any way to speak?”

Wu Yan, with a gentle expression and a fan in her hand, offered, “Just think of it as practice.”

Jiang She frowned, still reluctant.

Xie Gou, concealing his mouth, offered Zhong Qian assurance. “Fear him not. He is a defeated foe of our Mountain Lord, soundly thrashed, stripped of his finer arts, his martial prowess diminished.”

Zhong Qian nodded, understanding. “A Daoist and a Peak Realm martial artist, then.”

Wu Yan smiled slyly.

Jiang She scoffed, rising slowly.

By instinct alone, Zhong Qian retreated, not in flight, but in readiness. In an instant, he adopted a fighting stance, condensing fist-罡, fortifying fist-intent, embracing killing intent!

Fluid and seamless, from his days in the Jianghu, Zhong Qian never sought conflict. But if someone sought him out, he simply killed them.

Jiang She raised an eyebrow. “I underestimated you. But if your skill ends here, there is no need to think highly of you.”

A flicker of interest ignited in Jiang She’s eyes. “Name yourself, nameless nobody. And then I’ll teach you just how far you are from the true Golden Body Realm.”

Zhong Qian grinned, allowing no carelessness to creep in. “Martial artist of the Lotus Pond Domain, your Grandfather Zhong is here…”

Xie Gou, seated beside Wu Yan, clucked appreciatively. “Who knew our Zhong Diyi had such a sharp tongue? He who praises me insults me, he who insults me praises me. But once he starts to fight, his mouth turns foul.”

Suddenly, Zhong Qian’s vision blurred, and he found himself airborne. His body arched like a shrimp, his back slammed against an invisible barrier, and his bones cracked like firecrackers. His eyes filled with blood vessels. His head lolled, and blood dripped from his ears. Zhong Qian grunted, throat working, and swallowed the clot of blood, along with… tonight’s supper. “I can’t waste it,” he thought, “I paid for this with my face!”

Jiang She stood where Zhong Qian had stood, one hand behind his back, the other beckoning the kneeling Golden Body Realm martial artist forward. “Come.”

The ground trembled, kicking up dust. Zhong Qian darted like a wraith, his path twisting and turning, but Jiang She merely slapped him on the forehead, sending him to his knees as if struck by lightning. Dazed and bloodied, Zhong Qian struggled to raise his hands, waving them feebly. “Enough,” he croaked, “Enough!”

Jiang She roared with laughter. “Grandfather Zhong, you barely tasted the appetizers and you’re already stuffed?!”

Zhong Qian coughed up a great gout of blood, pitched forward, and propped himself on his hands, shaking his head as if drunk.

Jiang She sidestepped. “How did you become the foremost in Lotus Pond? Are you the illegitimate son of the Blue Azure Cave Lord?”

Wu Yan coughed sharply, a reminder of Blue Azure’s temper.

Xie Gou filed that away for future use, in case he ever offended the Blue Azure Daoist.

Zhong Qian rolled onto his back, wiping blood from his face, feeling broken. “Grandfather Zhong admits defeat…” He then performed a hasty donkey roll as a foot landed where his head had been. The ground was now a crater.

Zhong Qian appealed to the sable-capped girl. “Xie Assistant Manager! Is this because I picked a substandard meal tonight? Is this a matter of life and death?”

Xie Gou sighed, covering his face. “That’s that. I’ve done my best. It’s your own fault you couldn’t seize the chance. Don’t blame me for a lack of loyalty later.”

Zhong Qian sat on the ground, fists braced against his knees, attempting to gather his scattered vital energy. In vain.

Jiang She stamped his foot lightly. Zhong Qian levitated, and Jiang She, seizing a shoulder, shook him gently, triggering another rattling of bones. Like a snake-catcher seizing the snake’s vital spot and shaking it into submission, Jiang She left Zhong Qian limp on the ground. But Zhong Qian’s eyes widened. He felt his Qi circulate more smoothly than ever before.

Jiang She chuckled. “Enjoying your rest, Grandfather Zhong?”

Zhong Qian smiled broadly, clasping his hands in thanks. “Zhong Qian thanks you for the fist-feeding, Senior.”

Jiang She asked, “Your Mountain Lord is a famous martial artist. How does my fist method compare?”

Zhong Qian responded, “My eyes are poor, my realm too low. I imagine they have their own strengths.”

Jiang She waved him off.

Zhong Qian limped away, grinning wryly.

Soon, an elderly man appeared at the gate, and Xie Gou immediately greeted him with a smile. “Hero Xu!”

Jiang She glanced at his Daoist partner, and Wu Yan went to fetch wine.

Xu Yuanxia chuckled. “Couldn’t sleep, so I went for a stroll under the moon. Somehow, I ended up here. What’s all the commotion?”

Ever since being “invited” to stay, Xu Yuanxia had been living on the mountain.

Green hills and waters, ink on white paper – always so adept at preserving youth.

How enviable for those heroes who could not bear the thought of decline, the beauties who dreaded a single silver strand.

Jiang She and Xu Yuanxia, men separated by more than ten thousand years, had inexplicably hit it off.

With Zhu Lian, Jiang She retained a certain reserve, mindful of the man’s origins. But with Xu Yuanxia, who claimed to be a former border soldier turned wandering swordsman turned village teacher turned travelogue writer, Jiang She felt completely at ease.

Jiang She truly let down his guard with this “old man,” a fact that did not surprise Wu Yan.

Xu Yuanxia’s character, his tales, even his idle chatter, all resonated deeply with Jiang She.

Jiang She jested, “Hero Xu, a legend in his own right, surviving the battlefield, sword and beard, a solitary figure, vanquishing demons. How did you end up as friends with such a youth as Chen Ping’an? You’ve lowered yourself.”

Xu Yuanxia roared with laughter. “You speak the truth.”

Having quietly arrived from the Soaring Hawk Dojo, Chen Ping’an paused at the gate, not entering.

Let the two old Jianghu veterans share their stories of the past.

At the Soaring Hawk Dojo, despite Liu Xianyang’s personal instruction, Chen Ping’an’s progress was slow. The swordsmanship had hidden and apparent thresholds. The obvious one being the need for high comprehension, with a pure heart. However the hidden threshold was very odd, a swordsman that either had no dreams at all, or was very full of them; and could remember them well when they woke.

That Chen Ping’an had managed to cross that threshold was already astonishing enough.

Secondly Chen’s chaotic and undefined personal nature was making the swordsmanship difficult to practice.

With Xie Gou in the background as a comparison, it was very easy to make Chen Ping’an look stupid and mediocre.

Arriving at the bamboo building, he looked out at the cliffside moonlight and the Red Candle Town lights around Chessboard Pier Mountain.

During the day in the magistrate, Chen had examined the mountain and river documents of the Ministry of Rites. Marquis Changchun Yang Hua was extremely pragmatic. Marquis Dudu’s court did not accept congratulations. In these years she inspected the counties under her rule alone, without any escorts or vehicles. She made no arrangements to have any mountain spirits of bureaucrats meet her; she covered thousands of counties.

Compared to her, Marquis Linli Cao Yong was more practical and followed official customs.

Chen Ping’an had also reviewed the documents of the newly appointed Count Qiantang Cen Wenqian and Bai Deng, the spirit of the Iron Talisman River by his home.

In addition he personally approved a suggestion from the Ministry of Rites to allow Li Qingzhu, spirit of the Jade Nectar River, to be transferred to the Mud Snake River in Wei Prefecture. At the same time he ordered that Su Rui, spirit of the Mud Snake River, should swap over to the Jade Nectar River.

Chen Ping’an summoned Xie Gou, declaring his intention to venture out, survey the sights along the Dudu River, and test the efficacy of his imitation Three Mountains Talisman.

Xie Gou was amenable. Such a trip would add richness to his travelogue!

Using the imitation Three Mountains Talisman, which suffered only from insufficient distance, they paused briefly on various peaks, heading toward the Central Mountain domain.

The eastern and western Dudu Rivers originated in the northern and southern mountain ranges.

In Dali’s Handan prefecture, in the capital of Qiu kingdom,

At a breakfast stall near the Imperial Way, a taciturn youth and a freckled girl stowed their valuables in a satchel. Awaiting the opening of the city gates, they sat down for a meal of inexpensive wontons – generous filling, delicate wrappers, seaweed, dried shrimp, and spiced bean curd threads. A bamboo tube filled with chopsticks and an assortment of flavored oils and sauces occupied the center of the table.

The youth plucked out a pair of chopsticks, tapping them lightly on the table, then began to eat.

The girl turned her back to the vendor, drawing a cloth from her sleeve to wipe the chopsticks before eating.

Taking a wonton, she closed her eyes, savoring the flavor.

The youth glanced at her. “You eat that three-copper street food like some noble lady.”

“Like drooping willows, the girl’s waist is fifteen inches around.” She had a good figure, but her complexion was poor.

The vendor served a bowl of wontons to a new customer at a nearby table, smiling and offering, in fluent Dali official speech, “Enjoy your meal,” before returning to his work.

The girl whispered, “Brother, why must we leave so suddenly? My flowers, newly planted in the courtyard, cost me so much silver. I cannot take them with me.”

They had adopted the guise of siblings for their travels. Some years ago, they settled down and opened a small rice shop.

The youth, a jade hairpin holding back his hair, merely chewed his wontons. Knowing his cautious nature, the girl voiced her thoughts with sound transmission. “Did an Immortal Master discern my true countenance? Brother, I am sorry for causing us to move again.”

The youth frowned, irritated. “How many times must I tell you? I do not care for your life or death. I only fear that abandoning you might anger the unpredictable Daoist. Then I will never achieve the Great Dao and be doomed to grub in the mud forever.”

His words were always blunt, but over the years, they had become accustomed to each other.

For example, he had said, “I admire beauty, but not in women. So rest assured, even if you strip naked, I will not become a flower thief.”

“When I find that person and become his disciple, we shall part ways, and I will no longer be burdened by you.” “You truly are a vixen, attracting trouble wherever you go.”

Seeing her mournful expression, the youth grew more annoyed, splitting a wonton with his chopstick. The girl fell silent. The youth’s hairpin bore engravings of flowery poetry in minute script, both a personal affectation and a signal to other cultivators.

The youth testily explained, “Qiu Kingdom is about to fall into chaos.”

The girl exclaimed, “Who would dare trouble Qiu Kingdom? It is a single-character vassal state. Do the storytellers not praise the General stationed at Wooden Fish Ditch for his stern discipline and valor in the Dali capital?”

The youth scoffed. “How long has it been since you visited a teahouse or theater? Go and listen for yourself.”

She only ever tended to her flowers and plants and read cheap romance novels. In the kitchen she would put on an apron and act like it was her own little world.

The girl felt aggrieved. “Was it not to avoid bringing you trouble?” Since learning of his plans to establish a sect, she had become afraid of going out to crowded places. She glanced around, seeing no signs of imminent unrest. Was it a palace plot, with officials scheming to usurp the throne from the Han orphans?

But the most influential people were the Empress Dowager’s relatives. If she remembered correctly, those in charge of official ranks, the treasury, and the military were all of the Empress Dowager’s clan. She had once seen their processions, which seemed unconcerned with encroaching over the proper rank.

Fortunately, their arrogance was only expressed on their faces, in their eyes, and in their lavish attire. She had never heard of them committing any acts of cruelty.

The girl looked toward the city gates. The road was lined with stalls and carts selling all manner of goods. Peddlers walked along the road, looking for empty space. They carried large poles on their shoulders, laden with various colourful goods. They sold multicoloured paper butterflies, bamboo dragonflies, and pellet drums. It was all so pretty. Yes, they were just after kids and swindling money from women and men.

Old men sat by the roadside, hands in their sleeves, chatting with nearby vendors. Buckets filled with fish were next to them, splashing and struggling.

How could there be chaos?

She asked, “Are we going to Rouge County in Coloured Robes Kingdom?”

The youth looked dazed, shaking his head. “Why would we go there? There is nothing to yearn for.”

For so many years, they had relied on each other. Almost like true siblings leaving their village.

While travelling south of the Dudu River there had been several disturbances due to her and her beauty. The local cultivators were not kind, and did unpleasant things. At the very least the wild cultivators would try to flirt, where the former would try to steal. If the cultivator lost the fight, they’d use the local government to get revenge.

They had no choice but to travel north.

But upon reaching Handan, close to the Dudu River, things became more peaceful. Which was why he had decided to find a Daoist site here. Their official documents were real, and their history could be easily checked; otherwise they would not have been able to come here.

Two relaxed customers, a middle-aged scholar and a sable-capped girl, came to the wonton stall.

Having finished an emergency meeting, the young Empress Dowager returned to her palace, preceded by a palace maid holding a lantern, and followed by a maid holding her long train.

Without her robes, no one would imagine that this beautiful young woman was the most powerful person in the Qiu Kingdom. On a whim, she decided to visit the hot springs. After bathing, her skin glowing like jade, she emerged from the steaming pool and donned a thin silk robe that revealed her curves. Though her expression appeared grim, she felt deeply satisfied. As she lay on her couch, a maid drew the curtain, creating an indistinct scene like a white snake writhing. The woman gently massaged herself, moaning softly. Standing by the bed, a slender maid blushed, well aware that she would soon be summoned to serve the Empress Dowager.

Her eyes, once sharp, were now misty. She whispered the name of her lover, while thinking of the horrors. “You are the reason I have to die, you will be with that old pervert! Your dry, wrinkled and foul breath were revolting; and you two cursed children, were all too like him.”

Liu had said that he would take her far away, to his home in the south, where they would be happy together forever. And even if they went to the Dali capital, he said that they’d still be safe.

The fourteen year old Emperor was sitting on the ground with a cruel expression. He was using a golden whip to beat a maid he had recently summoned to his presence to a bloody pulp. He dropped the whip, and washed his hands from a bowl brought by a eunich.

The Empress’s teacher came over and asked for a meeting. “Don’t act up like this.”

The boy nodded, as gentle as anything. “Thanks for the message, Grandma.”

The Dali empire didn’t require other empires to take the title of king over emperor.

In the deep courtyard of the Prime Minister’s mansion, the Guardian Adept, who had been sent for by imperial decree, stayed here.

On this trip, the Guardian Adept had brought a disciple. He was secretly meeting with high ranking officials.

One of the younger officials worriedly said: “Prime Minister, Guardian Adept, will Qiu Kingdom fall into chaos due to this Empress? We are now officially being called rebels by Dali. And there will apparently soon be a list of all the rebels to be posted around, with hundreds of names. It said that anyone on that list is to be a rebel, and must surrender at General Handan’s mansion within three days. If not…”

The Prime Minister stroked his beard. “She’s not crazy. Liu Wenjin must be planning something great.”

Over the years, any gatherings in Qiu Kingdom’s world of officials, or in book clubs or in the streets were spreading the word of the evils of Dali. There were also many stories of how Han of Qiu was able to cultivate such a skilled army to do great things.

The Guardian Adept laughed. “Or what? Will they kill everyone? If there’s hundreds of names, that means hundreds of families, who have made hundreds of marriages, and have had hundreds of apprentices. Who will Dali kill? Killing any is killing hundreds of thousands of people.”

“Will the Dali military kill all 60,000 soldiers and kill their way to the capital? Will they kill all the officials and the Emperor? How many people would be left alive along the Imperial Way?

“If so, then Song of Dali is amazing. All the states are watching. The southern continent is also.”

The Prime Minister was embarrassed. It was fine if there were casualties. But it was as Liu of Rights said. The people outside the capital must die so that Qiu’s officials could get promotions, and Dali would give them more money.

After the master and disciple went back to their residence, the disciple said: “Those Dali dogs set the tax too high, and the rules are too complicated. It leaves nothing for us!”

The Guardian Adept said: “That Song of Dali is just a barbarian who likes swords and killing.”

After shutting the door, the disciple sound transmitted: “Master, what if Dali is fine with killing ordinary people, but wants to kill cultivators instead?”

The Guardian Adept laughed. “I have already talked to an important general about what will happen. General Handan can be called the de facto Emperor of Qiu. If he is the Emperor, who cares about the Prime Minister or Liu Wenjin?”

The disciple praised him. “Master has thought this through.”

The Guardian Adept stroke his beard. “Don’t flatter me. Still, with that safe pass, things will be a lot easier.”

“Still, it is a shame that Dali officials have too many rules.” He thought of taking the young Empress into his bed chambers and the great experience of the night.

The disciple hesitated. “Master…”

The Guardian Adept smiled. “What is it?”

The disciple smiled. “Nothing, it would just be some words of flattery.”

After going out, the disciple closed the door and glared.

Before daybreak, Wei Bo wanted to take Chen to the Dali office, but found that he wasn’t there.

Wei Bo reluctantly sent a letter to tell Green Cedar Peak to send the stones and incense.

He could only tell the Dali office and Jin Qing that he would have to travel through and go to Green Cedar to talk about some things.

Jin Qing wasn’t happy recently, and so he travelled with Wei Bo.

Because there wasn’t a big reason for Wei Bo to travel there, it scared Green Cedar Peak.

At daybreak, the new Mountain Lord Huang Zhonghou and Daoist partner Wu Yuanyi greeted them at the gate. With them were also Cai Jinjian, who headed Green Cedar Peak.

In the National Teacher mansion, all the rooms were lit up. With the officials not needing to attend the small court meetings, they all started work.

In a single room, Rong Yu was still wearing the same clothes, but Fu Qing had changed to indigo robes.

From ancient times, beauties were a cup of strong wine that caused one to be greedy.

Rong Yu mocked: “Changing clothes today, tomorrow you can put some light powder on, and the day after that you can do your nails. Too many intentions. I’m telling you, you could easily seduce any vassal lord.”

Fu Qing ignored that.

Rong Yu raised her hand. “Our hands are all rough from doing chores, and our butts aren’t white. What will our husbands think later?”

Fu Qing scolded: “You are more slimy than any man!”

After a bit of silence, Fu Qing said: “What is Yu thinking? Why is he taking the risk?”

Yesterday she had personally interrogated the man. He confessed after very little torture, and had no backbone.

Rong Yu remembered that Master Cui had highlighted something on a document with red ink.

“You don’t know that you are wrong, you know that you are going to die.”

Fu Qing hadn’t been there and didn’t see the words.

Rong Yu said: “He had great ambitions but not enough talent or patience. All these years he has just wanted to be in a Department of Rites. Now that Cui isn’t there, he is acting up. He knows that wealth is in danger, and that if he’s successful, it will lead to more wealth. All those people in the history books took a chance and made it, so why can’t he?”

Fu Qing didn’t like that.

Rong Yu laughed: “It is also because I’m so pretty. You are better at the base, but you are so cold that no one dares to look at you. I’m the opposite, soft and weak. I’m also a child of someone who had the most credit for military success and a servant of Cui. Doesn’t he desire me? He must fantasize, is that normal?”

Fu Qing coldly said: “Reading too many books. There are two things that kill without a sword: slander and desire.”

Rong Yu smiled. Reading the documents too much made them realize that the events in court were more exciting than any story.

Fu Qing asked: “Cui did many things, but left behind many problems. Did he do it on purpose?”

Rong Yu reminded Fu Qing: “Don’t think about what you aren’t supposed to.”

Fu Qing nodded.

Rong Yu laughed: “There are two meanings to that.”

Fu Qing slapped her, and Rong Yu laughed: “Why go far, why go big for small?”

After their quarrel, Rong Yu looked outside and wondered why the National Teacher hadn’t come. He must have been discussing who to promote with the Emperor.

Daylight broke.