As the sun dipped low over Fallen Peak, Chen Ping’an stirred, awakening upon the white jade plaza of the Ancestral Hall. Ning Yao steadied him, and together they leaned against the balustrade.

The moonlight was a soft, calming hand upon the world. Verdant peaks rose into the still air, and swirling mists embraced the mountainsides like blankets of freshly carded wool. Perhaps it was the echo of his own heart, but the land seemed steeped in a peace the mortal realm had never known before.

Ning Yao, ever mindful, had not lingered at Gathering Spirit Peak. She spoke with the voice of her mind, “What happened back there?”

Chen Ping’an felt as though he had slept for an age. Still clouded, he rubbed his eyes. “In the waking dreams, I saw…figures of immense power, ancient and terrible.”

Ning Yao, believing he had glimpsed some profound truth during the convergence of fates, some echo of the Great Way or the Ancestral Lands, asked, her voice tinged with curiosity, “What do you mean?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head, clearing the lingering mist. “And you? How fare you?”

Ning Yao, sensing his unease, did not press. “What do you think?” she countered with a playful roll of her eyes.

Chen Ping’an’s voice dropped to a murmur. “I think… two weddings are in order.”

A faint blush bloomed on Ning Yao’s cheeks.

Chen Ping’an reached out, gently smoothing the furrow in her brow. “Are you well?” he asked with a tender concern.

Ning Yao shrugged. “Well enough. At worst, I must simply renew my cultivation, a matter of decades.”

Chen Ping’an’s voice turned serious. “Little Mo and Xie Gou? How did they fare?”

Ning Yao replied, “Well enough. Xie Gou fared worse on the surface of things. Three times ‘dissolved the Way,’ expending more than thirty ancient Dao veins. He has fallen to the Golden Core realm.”

“Yet Little Mo suffered a deeper wound. His natal flying sword, ‘Lotus Silk,’ shattered, and with it, the celestial star to which it was bound. To regain the Fourteenth Realm will be a trial indeed.”

“Xie Gou, however, may find the Great Way in loss and gain.”

“Cui Dongshan could not stay Jiang Shangzhen. He conjured that Willow Leaf of his, only for it to shatter as well.”

Hearing this, Chen Ping’an rubbed his face with rough hands. Perhaps this was the true meaning of a shared destiny, a fellowship in trial.

Ning Yao waited for him to speak. When no words came, she prompted, “Not a single ‘It’s all my fault’?”

Chen Ping’an’s face cleared, his eyes bright with mischief. He laughed. “It’s hardly my fault. Who asked them to choose me as their mountain lord?”

He chuckled, a touch of irony lacing his voice. “Our Palace Master Wu truly is a miser who hoards his wealth. Choosing the path of union with the Dao is certainly an art.”

The Night Wanderer sword, forged from a shard of the Sword of Great White and a Dragon Lord’s robe, was no more.

Vanished too was the Floating Duckweed sword, born of a fragment of the Sword Qi Great Wall, etched with the inscription of “Thunder Pool” and countless city ramparts.

Yet it seemed that this was the fate best suited for both.

As Chen Ping’an passed them into the fray, two strands of profound inspiration had guided his hand. Each sword carried within it a fragment of its own will, and went in search of the lost ones, First and Fifteenth.

His natal sword, “The Big Dipper,” had severed its tie to its celestial star. One day, it would need to take flight towards the outer reaches of the heavens. But how long it would take to reach the Ascension Realm once more, he could not say.

A murmur of voices drifted up from the cliff below. Chen Ping’an leaned over the railing, peering into the darkness. He made out four or five “woodsmen” gathered by a jade-green pool, sharing a late-night meal of rice from bamboo stalks and salted vegetables. They presented the image of humble folk, come to gather firewood and fallen branches, binding their bundles for the descent. In truth, they had come to the pool to harvest the Jade Bamboo, a rare treasure of Fallen Peak. They’d collect bags of stones from the stream. The bamboo, once woven into baskets or smoothed into fan ribs, and the colorful stones, though possessing no magical essence, would fetch a handsome price in the town, enough to sustain an ordinary family.

In recent years, the mountains to the west had changed. Townsfolk who had sold their ancestral homes now suffered from the prodigal ways of their young. The elderly, forced to return to old trades, or went to the dragon kilns as porcelain workers, or they harvested herbs, or worked the land. However, after the immortal presence had graced Fallen Peak, someone had discovered that the pool and stream below Jade Peak was like an inconspicuous treasure trove. Every so often, they donned their woodland guise and went into the mountains to “gather coins.”

Ning Yao watched them with a frown. “They’ve been doing this for years. Won’t you put a stop to it?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head, smiling. “Chen Lingjun tried to frighten them at first. But they’ve proven to be careful and discreet, never calling on others to join them, never becoming a swarm. It’s the same faces year after year, a few younger family members joining now and then. We’ve let them be.”

This was true, but there was more to the tale. The “Mountain Lord” had once noticed a thin, sun-darkened youth in the group. He had been engaged in his first act of theft, sweat slicking his palms despite the winter chill. With each strike of his hatchet against the bamboo, he glanced about nervously. It seemed that each sound of his labor declared to the “landlord” that his goods were stolen. The youth’s panic and distress amused the older members of the party.

That fabled water-pool, the site of legends whispered in the shadows, when bathed in the light of day was a scene of iridescent reflections. It resembled the dragon pools of monster stories.

The waters, overflowing, had carved out a channel over the years, creating a stream. In summer, when rain poured, the water surged forth like a yellow dragon breaking from its cage. It was named the Peace Stream in the Lotus County chronicles. Like a silken sash, it flowed around the foothills, skirting the fields beyond. Every winter morning, a white mist hung above the water, resembling a silver dragon. Eventually, it joined the Iron Amulet River.

Chen Ping’an pulled himself back from the railing, tucking his hands into his sleeves, inhaling deeply. A burst of uncontained joy escaped his lips. “I’m a grand cultivator of the One Realm now!”

Ning Yao scoffed. “Of the Lower Five Realms, still at the foot of the mountain? And you dare boast?”

Chen Ping’an said, “A boy who masters mountain-climbing fears nothing. And I still have my martial prowess.”

Ning Yao, never one for empty comfort, spoke softly. “Rest well. Only then can you cultivate well.”

Chen Ping’an reached for her hand. “Let’s walk the road we took when we first entered the mountain, from the beginning.”

Ning Yao smiled. “Of course. But there will be no money for you to earn this time.”

Chen Ping’an had come to these mountains far more often than a common laborer. Summer was preferable to the bitter bite of winter, for one could seek refuge from the heat. As sweat poured from his brow, he would wring out his clothes on the rocks, chewing on dry rations beneath the shade of a tree, his straw sandals dipped in the stream. A hardship, or a liberation?

Together, they walked along the mountain path between Jade Peak and Gathering Spirit Peak, until they reached the steps. Ning Yao spoke again, breaking the silence. “Will Daoist Xianwei still guard the gate?” Chen Ping’an replied that there was little need now. He could take his disciples and settle at a private hermitage near Fragrant Mountain. But what Xianwei himself desired, whether he would remain at the mountain gate, was yet to be seen.

Chen Ping’an looked up, his gaze piercing the night sky, giving way to a single moon. The Dragon Boat Festival would soon be upon them.

Few stood on the steps.

Cui Dongshan and Jiang Shangzhen, one in white, the other in green, with Wei Night Wanderer, stood nearby.

Guo Zhujiu stood with Pei Qian, the boy in green and the girl in pink flanking the girl in black.

Little Mo wore a gentle smile, while Xie Gou, his face contorted in a playful grimace, sought to embrace him. Little Mo brushed his hand away from Xie Gou’s sable hat.

The events that had transpired were unknown to many. Those upon Flowery Shadow Peak and Oriole Song Peak were largely unaware. Even the folk of Cloud-Cloaked Mountain were lost, and so Wei Bo had come to the Mountain Lord to discover the truth of the situation.

Yet the Old Master had already spoken to them all, forbidding further inquiry. For now, at least, they must be patient. Green mountains and blue waters endured, and there was no need to rush.

Zhu Lian, following the advice of the Old Master, had restored the two layers of skin he had worn previously.

The Earthly Branch bloodline of Great Li was passing through the mountain and were invited to the temple of Night Wanderer. Zhou Haijing didn’t want to visit Cloud Cloaked Mountain, so he asked the Night Wanderer to send a few words to Master Chen: she had met Wu Zhou and gotten along well. Now she was back in the Azure Billow World to recover. When Master Chen visited, he could ask for her by name. Her temple was on the smallest state.

Chen Ping’an made a bow to his master. The Old Master lightly held the arms of his most accomplished disciple, and patted the shoulder of his last one. “I am free once again,” he said.

The Old Master said softly, “Han Fuzi is furious. That Deputy Master has gone to Great Brocade Dynasty with a face as black as thunder.”

The masters and their students moved away, Chen Ping’an bent low to whisper with his master. The Old Master nodded and shook his head, and then they both laughed.

At Sky Crossing Peak, Lu Shen, once again at the dojo from Middle Earth Continent, stood with Liu Xiang instead of Zou Zi.

Lu Shen and the scripture expert Xi Ping had hoped to assist Chen Ping’an with acting out the Dao, but with little effect. Lu Shen had even lost a realm. Were it not for Xi Ping, Lu Shen may not have even been able to return to the mortal realm. It seems the leader of the Lu family will remain at the dojo at Sky Crossing Peak for the time being.

Chen Ping’an stopped and looked to them, his smile radiant. “Save some midnight snacks for me. I need to go to the Capital to settle things. Don’t be hasty with your chopsticks. I’ll be back. Allow me to speak my mind this once. What do you say?”

Elder Zhangming smiled. “It is not one person’s decision, is it?”

Zhu Lian, bent with age, his hands behind his back, smiled and hummed in agreement.

Xiao Mili was giddy and happy. She lightly held the sleeves of the good mountain master.

The white-haired youth was excited. He said, “No one will disobey the Ancestral Master Chen! They will only do so over my dead body!”

Xie Gou slapped him on the head. “Hall Master Guo, is Konghou unpleasant? How about we remove him from the roster?”

Guo Zhujiu nodded. “Expelled! Effective immediately!”

The white-haired youth was stupefied. He looked at Guo Zhujiu and Xie Gou. “I am loyal! I built the roads and planted the field!”

Chen Ping’an laughed, “Hold him for observation.”

Guo Zhujiu squinted his eyes and smiled, and Xie Gou muttered “What luck.” The white-haired youth was ready to pour his heart out to the Ancestral Master Chen. But Cui Dongshan raised his hand, as if he was ready to perform an act. The youth stopped and spun his eyes, wondering how to get back at them.

Chen Ping’an suggested, “There are many people tonight. We should eat a feast and hold a meeting at the ancestral hall. Xiaomili, Chen Lingjun, and Zhong Qian are all leaving soon.”

No one disagreed.

At Sword-Bathing Platform, only Qi Tingji, Mi Yu, and Zhu Su arrived at Gathering Spirit Peak.

Chen Ping’an apologized to Zhu Su, whose retreats he had interrupted.

Zhu Su said carefully, “Sect Master? Recently?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Carry on with your retreat.”

Zhu Su replied bluntly, “If it happens again, I won’t have the confidence to continue my retreat. Or to reach a new realm.”

Ning Yao said, “Then stay by the lake. I will protect you.”

Zhu Su laughed. “I was waiting for you to say that, Ning Yao.”

With the Ancestral Master Chen, even Qi Tingji wouldn’t be reliable. Only with Ning Yao could Zhu Su rest assured.

Chen Ping’an joked, “Old sword immortal, you’re not leaving, are you? How about you act as an honorary elder? Our top fighters aren’t enough!”

Qi Tingji said, “I will join if I can reach the fourteenth realm.”

Cui Dongshan said, “Master, Our Leader Zhou wants to be the deputy mountain master. He wants to be the leader of the lower sect at Scripture Lake, too.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Very well. We’ll leave the spot open for Qi Tingji to be the honorary leader.

Elder Zhangming said, “We’ll decide this at the meeting at Jade Peak tonight. We’ll list Qi Tingji’s name as our guest, as we wish him well on reaching the fourteenth realm.”

Qi Tingji waved his hand. “Don’t force me.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Or maybe it should go to Xie.”

Xie Gou touched his hat and coughed. “Then that would be the rightful outcome.”

Then, with Wei Bo’s help, Chen Ping’an begged for his master to stay and waited until the Old Master agreed. Then, he went to the capital.

But he didn’t go to Old Oriole Lake, but to Azure Dark Cave.

The landscape was a suitable distance from the city, not too far or too close. As such, the families of nobles came to visit, in carriages carried by many. Officials’ wives relaxed among the trees. If they could find a vista, they could set up shade to view the city while the breeze wafted through the trees.

However, it was desolate by Ape Tread.

Yellow Flower God poked his head out of the bronze cauldron. The moon was bright and the night was still, a good time for escape.

But he felt a chill and turned to see a man in green robes standing with his hands in his sleeves.

“The night is late,” he said. “And you, sir, are bathing.”

Yellow Flower God knew this man was not strong, but he had suffered enough under Gu Can, so he remained civil. “What is your name?”

Chen Ping’an said, “My name is Chinese Tallow. Tell me, from the moment you met Gu Can. I am not interested in the earlier parts.”

Yellow Flower God understood that this was the man.

He dared not hide anything, and told what he knew. Gu Can’s talk with Zheng Juzhong was not hidden from Yellow Flower God. He was afraid Gu Can would silence him. Then, Gu Can was forced to kill himself, and Yellow Flower God wanted to leave. As for the cauldron, he wanted to take that too… But a man with an ordinary face arrived with sword in hand, and asked a few questions. Yellow Flower God said that the master and student hated each other, because of someone named Chen.

Then the swordsman fell asleep and woke up with a nosebleed. And then it happened again, this time with blood coming from all of his orifices.

The swordsman was terrible.

Yellow Flower God guessed that he was Liu Chen Gu.

But as he was told, the young national instructor did not change his expression. Yellow Flower God could not tell what was going on in his mind.

Yellow Flower God had gotten through the fire, and had moved the cauldron cover.

But the man kicked the cauldron cover high and caught it. He was going to put it on Yellow Flower God.

Yellow Flower God pretended to be ignorant and said, “What are you doing?!”

Chen Ping’an put the cover down, saying, “You never came out, so I thought you were training with strange methods…”

Yellow Flower God immediately held the cover and tried to explain. “I wanted to come out but this method is…”

Thankfully, the man continued, “It depends on the hour?”

Yellow Flower God realized, “That’s right! After the hour, it’s twice the work for half the result.”

Chen Ping’an let go. “You are Yellow Flower God, right? Are you working with Tian Hujun at Sculpture Lake?”

Yellow Flower God was embarrassed. He nodded. “I was mistaken.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Wait here. If your teacher Gu Can returns, then good. If not, don’t come out. If you don’t believe me, try.”

Yellow Flower God said bitterly, “Chen National Instructor, why bother with a rogue cultivator like myself?”

Chen Ping’an said, “I don’t bother with you? Who should I bother with? Tian Hujun?”

Yellow Flower God wished he hadn’t come. He wouldn’t concede to Gu Can, but against this man, he dared not compete. There was no hope in beating him in cunning, skill, or means.

Chen Ping’an went to the cliff to gaze at Great Li. In this most important place, it was brightly lit.

Peace had not arrived. The mountains of the Five Worlds may become more chaotic, but right and wrong were the domain of the human world.

He wanted to take out the gourd for wine, but it had broken in the convergence of fates. He was saddened, but not regretful.

Thirty years had passed.

Someone could buy sweet osmanthus to drink, but it would not be like his youth.

But for the people who cultivate, be it thirty years, three hundred, or three thousand, the past was like their youth.

He looked up and saw a sword light pause and then head to Azure Billow World.

Yellow Flower God was praying that Gu Can could return alive.

Liu Xianyang appeared. He sat on the ground and shook out the fog. He stood and put Chen Ping’an in a headlock. “You like to be the hero!”

The fog that was Gu Can said, “If there’s no hero, then there’s me! If that doesn’t work, then Liu Xianyang can put his memorial tablet at the wedding!”

Liu Xianyang laughed. It was the first time Gu Can stood by him against Chen Ping’an. He was angry.

Chen Ping’an rubbed his chin.

Gu Can stopped talking.

Yellow Flower God was still in the cauldron. He hoped they would forget about him. And hopefully Gu Can would forget the cauldron, too.

Liu Xianyang laughed.

Chen Ping’an smiled, “We must all attend in two days.”

“You can also fight the barbarians. That’s the plan.”

“As for White Jade City, that depends on your level.”

Now that Zhou Mi was gone, the plans were not needed.

He will explore the world, raising his realm.

Liu Xianyang said, “There is no problem for me. But Gu has terrible talent, so he can stand to the side and cheer.”

Yellow Flower God smiled, as if to say, “You are great men. Why include me?”

Liu Xianyang said, “Do you want me to boil you again?”

Yellow Flower God shook his head.

Chen Ping’an looked at Yellow Flower God, and Gu Can also glanced at him.

Liu Xianyang said, “Hard to be a man, easy to be a ghost.”

Yellow Flower God said, “I will go back to Sculpture Lake and do good.”

Liu Xianyang sighed and patted Chen Ping’an on the shoulder. “Slowly,” he said.

Gu Can said, “What about you and Ning Yao?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Shut up.”

Liu Xianyang laughed. “It’s the tradition to marry the eldest first. Gu Can is eager.”

Gu Can said, “Get lost.”

Chen Ping’an remembered. “My master said that there will be a three-way debate with the topic of ‘Decline’. I’m not attending, but I can get you a spot.”

Liu Xianyang said, “What topic?”

Gu Can said, “‘Decline’.”

Liu Xianyang nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

Gu Can spat.

Liu Xianyang asked, “Chen Ping’an, Fox Country is yours. Do you have any spare fox talismans? Gu Can can be a servant… or a bridesmaid!”

Gu Can cursed Liu Xianyang. Liu Xianyang smiled, saying that his insults were lacking.

Chen Ping’an said, “Go to the Dragon Spring. I’ll ask Old Immortal Jia to assist.”

Liu Xianyang said, “That is worth something. They’re top talents!”

Zhu Lian was a great cook. Old Immortal Jia was familiar with customs.

Chen Ping’an left, drawing closer to the human world.

Since the worlds were joined, the weather was closer.

Above, there was Chen Qingliu, Bai Ze, and the yin god of Zheng Juzhong.

Xie Shiji stared at Fei Ran and Gui Ke.

The Sage had been told to return to Middle Earth Continent, but he did not. He looked at Bai Ze, who was imprisoned in the river of time.

The human world was without Zhou Mi or the three founders. Then, the return of the first Taoist had given everyone a glimpse. Like Lu Shen, Yu Dou, and Yao Qing, those who were Pseudo-Fifteenth could never reach Fifteenth. Fei Ran had abandoned the path of the swordsman. Ning Yao would be stable after delivering that strike that controlled the world. Wu Zhou had harmed their own path. The old master had not attacked.

Next, the human world would see a new crop of fourteenth realm people.

Bai Ze could reach the fifteenth realm.

The Sage had decided to sink the lands of the barbarians.

The barbarians needed to learn a lesson.

There was a strange situation. The elders were more extreme, while the youth were more conservative. The Sage and Old Master would not easily speak, but things were different now.

If he could trade, then today he would trade Bai Ze.

Bai Ze realized the Sage’s intent and looked sad. Like Zheng Juzhong had said, he was weak.

He had power but was unassertive.

Yang god Zheng Juzhong told Gui Ke that she was the greatest plan of Zhou Mi.

Zhou Mi wanted to take the three corpses and steal her body to merge with the barbarians.

If this was done, the lands of the barbarians could never be erased. Even if the barbarians’ Taoism was in name only, Zhou Mi would persuade Bai Ze. He would give it all to Zhou Mi.

Bai Ze looked to Fei Ran.

Fei Ran shook his head. “I will not eat you.”

He didn’t want to be killed. He had just married Gui Ke.

Look, there was the former officer Xiao Xuan.

The girl with the pigtail had come with Zheng Juzhong. It was clear that they were allies.

Gui Ke was afraid. Fei Ran said, “If not, we can surrender.”

Gui Ke laughed.

Fei Ran said, “We must fight. Maybe the human world is no good.”

For example, Zheng Juzhong could stand with the barbarians.

Bai Ze was lost. Where could he go?

At White Jade City, Pang Ding opened his eyes and said, “He’s not dead?!”

This was troubling.

After all, all of Pang Ding’s plans were based on Pang Ding’s demise.

The barbarians had a paradise with water under cliffside roads.

Zheng Juzhong led the way. Swordswoman Liu Bai asked, “Sir, is our master dead?”

Zheng Juzhong nodded. “Zhou Mi cannot escape.”

She murmured, “Is this good or bad for us?”

Zheng Juzhong said, “It is bad if you care for the barbarians. But if you are selfish, then it is good.”

Zhou Qinggao asked, “Sir, will I be able to meet Chen Ping’an again?”

Zheng Juzhong said, “Maybe.”

Zhou Mi had planned for the collapse, which was why he put them at the southeast corner.

But Zheng Juzhong knew.

Three Zheng Juzhongs. The temple was aware.

Zhou Mi wasn’t willing to lose.

As the sword immortal, Shouchen was the most conflicted.

“South Shouchen, North Hidden Officer.”

Shouchen no longer had any ambition. His heart was empty.

Zheng Juzhong had bags filled with soil and minerals.

The barbarians lacked spiritual energy, but were rich with resources.

The natives had built a wooden bridge, under which the raging waters surged. There would have been three moons here in the past.

Zheng Juzhong stepped on the bridge.

All were on a journey in this world.