Here’s the rewritten passage with standardized English grammar and syntax, while preserving the original pronouns and the Xianxia novel style:

Under the eaves of the yamen’s ceremonial archway, Chen Dui had been chatting with the girl from Zhengyang Mountain about many extraordinary people, interesting anecdotes, and curious tales. The little girl listened with rapt attention, exclaiming, “Sister, you know so much!”

Chen Dui smiled faintly. “When you grow up, you too will come to know many things.”

Song Jixin said, half-jokingly and half-seriously, “When we’re just hanging out, you seem like a pretty normal person.”

The woman raised a long, slender eyebrow, and inquired, “Are you implying that I should be all obsequious and cowering before Song Changjing, the Great Li’s regional lord?”

Song Jixin burst into hearty laughter, pointing a finger at Chen Dui. “If Master Qi from our little town’s academy heard you talking like that, he’d surely frown! You know, that’s called a false dilemma, utterly unreasonable! It sounds plausible at first, but it can’t stand up to scrutiny. What I truly mean is, of course you shouldn’t have to flatter Song Changjing. You absolutely shouldn’t! But he’s the biggest snake in this Great Li, and a top-notch martial arts grandmaster, right? As an outsider, when in Rome, shouldn’t you be a little polite to the owner of the house? Why insist on wearing such a sour face, acting like you’re the boss? And even if you do put on an act, after Song Changjing nearly beats you to death, you dare to utter threats to his face! I truly don’t know what to say about you.”

Finally, Song Jixin gestured to himself, mocking his own nature. “Even someone like me, with a venomous tongue and a wicked heart, knows how to assess the situation and adjust my sails accordingly.”

Chen Dui hesitated for a moment before saying, “Perhaps it’s a case of like repelling like. As a martial artist myself, to be honest, I’ve never thought much of you martial practitioners from the Eastern Treasure Bottle Continent. Of course, I was ultimately proven wrong, terribly wrong.”

Song Jixin looked surprised. “You’re quite frank, aren’t you?”

Chen Dui said serenely, “A martial artist respects strength. What else is there to respect?”

Song Jixin suddenly posed a sharp question. “You outsiders who come to our town seeking treasures and opportunities…your principles seem different from ours. Is it because your fists are harder?”

Chen Dui shook her head and chuckled. “I don’t need to explain anything. Once you leave this town, you’ll quickly become like us. The day you embark on the path of cultivation yourself, you’ll naturally understand. Otherwise, I could talk until my mouth runs dry, and you still wouldn’t comprehend.”

Song Jixin sighed. “Becoming like you…how boring.”

The little girl interjected playfully, “Then come play on our Zhengyang Mountain! It’s so much fun!”

Song Jixin patted her little head absently. “Alright, maybe.”

Chen Dui turned her head, a sense of instinctive apprehension rising within her.

There, under the archway, stood the Great Li’s regional lord, dressed in white robes and a jade belt. He said to Song Jixin, “Go back to Mud Bottle Lane and pack your things. Prepare to leave this place.”

Song Jixin chuckled. “Alright, time to leave my hometown.”

The little girl looked reluctant, and asked “Leaving my hometown, does that mean carrying a water well on my back and leaving?”

Song Jixin laughed heartily, standing up. “Let’s go. First, I’ll take you back to the Li family’s residence. We must see things through.”

Song Jixin took the little girl’s hand and started towards the yamen gate, turning his head to ask, “There won’t be any assassins waiting for us on Fortune and Prosperity Street, will there?”

Song Changjing smiled. “That, you’ll have to ask your neighbors and friends.”

Song Jixin curled his lips and glanced at the sky. Dark clouds were gathering, threatening rain.

His mood immediately soured.

After escorting Tao Zi of Zhengyang Mountain back, Song Jixin was surprised to find Song Changjing standing under the scholar tree. He hurried over, curious. “So eager to leave?”

Song Changjing nodded. “I received some urgent news. There’s something outside that I need to resolve personally. That’s why the carriages are waiting in Mud Bottle Lane, and we’ll depart as soon as you finish packing.”

Song Jixin raised his eyes to look, and sure enough, three carriages were parked outside the yamen gate. This was probably the first time in the youth’s life that he was going to ride in a carriage.

Song Jixin bent down and climbed into the first carriage, with Song Changjing following closely behind, sitting cross-legged.

Song Jixin looked around. The interior was bare, save for the rush cushion beneath him. It lacked the luxurious grandeur he had imagined, and didn’t give one the feeling of stepping into another world. This made Song Jixin feel disappointed, for he had been looking forward to seeing Zhi Gui’s surprised expression when the youth boarded the carriage.

The rhythmic clatter of hooves on the stone-paved streets filled the air as the three carriages pulled away from Fortune and Prosperity Street, one after another.

Song Changjing lifted the curtain, gazing out at the passing scenery of the town. From now on, the Great Li Dynasty would completely lose nominal control of this small paradise.

On the other hand, he reasoned, ever since the founding of the Great Li, it was precisely because of the substantial profits generated by this small paradise that it had gradually grown from a small separatist force in a remote corner to become the largest secular dynasty in the northern part of the Bottle Continent, bar none.

A thousand miles of rivers and mountains, a small paradise.

In the future, perhaps, the Great Li imperial family would have to look to their secret history to find its existence once again.

Song Changjing collected his thoughts, casually inquiring, “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to that Chen Ping’an?”

After they left Fortune and Prosperity Street, the road became bumpier, and Song Jixin’s body began to sway gently with the carriage. He shook his head. “Who knows if that guy will even survive? What if we only find a corpse? How disgusting. Chen Ping’an has no parents, and now even his good friend is dead. Wouldn’t that mean it’s up to me, his neighbor, to handle his affairs?”

Song Changjing grunted in agreement.

Song Jixin inquired, “The little girl from Zhengyang Mountain mentioned someone named Ma Kuxuan, from Apricot Blossom Lane. He’s about my age, and apparently, he sold out Chen Ping’an and that girl’s hiding place to Zhengyang Mountain for a bag of alms money. Do you know anything about this guy’s background? I always thought he was a fool, never realizing he was hiding so much.”

Song Changjing thought for a moment. “The assassin who was hiding within the Song family, the one who tried to assassinate the Great Sui prince in Riding Dragon Lane…we had found some clues, and this Ma Kuxuan was involved. Over the years, that assassin, who was once a convict, had secretly contacted Ma Kuxuan several times. It’s possible they were master and disciple. But now that True Martial Mountain has intervened, we can only put it aside for now. After all, there are many True Martial disciples in the Great Li military, and they hold high positions.”

Song Jixin chuckled. “Uncle, do you ever really *have* to say ‘can only’?”

Song Changjing shrugged it off. “Who asked me to have such an unwanted and powerful status, a damned Great Li regional lord?”

As the carriage approached Mud Bottle Lane, Song Jixin said in a seemingly casual tone, “Chen Ping’an…is he really just Chen Ping’an?”

Song Changjing laughed softly. “Before I had you move to Mud Bottle Lane, the yamen had thoroughly investigated Chen Ping’an. His family history, back eighteen generations, is clear. There’s nothing suspicious. He has no connection to wealth or power. What? Did that Chen Dui scare you? Rest assured, I have a general idea of who she is. Her branch of the Chen family has no connection to Chen Ping’an’s branch that stayed in town. So put your mind at ease. Chen Ping’an is just Chen Ping’an. The closest relatives he has are the Chen family of Longwei County, where Chen Songfeng resides. But think about it, are relatives you haven’t seen for centuries really relatives? Besides, the Chen family in town has fallen on such hard times that there’s only one of them left who isn’t a servant. ‘Poor in the bustling city, no one asks; rich in the deep mountains, distant relatives come calling.’ You’ve read some books, at least. Don’t you even understand this principle?”

Song Jixin still wasn’t convinced. “What about the eighteen generations before *that*? Were there no amazing figures among them? Not a single one?”

Song Changjing laughed. “So you *wish* Chen Ping’an had a special background?”

Song Jixin didn’t hide his thoughts, nodding. “If he was different from ordinary people, I’d feel a little better.”

Song Changjing grew even more curious, teasing him. “Just how did that guy bully you, that you’re so fixated on this? But from what I know of that boy, he doesn’t seem like the type to…”

Song Jixin cut the Great Li regional lord off with a cold laugh. “People from small places might not have high horizons, and their perceptions might be shallow, but you absolutely can’t think they’re stupid. If they’re good, they’re good with an innocent heart, pure and kind. If they’re bad, they’re rotten to the core. And then there are some who are truly beyond help, stupid and evil.”

Song Changjing looked even more puzzled. “Which category does Chen Ping’an fall into?”

Song Jixin sighed, frustrated. “He doesn’t fall into any of them! He’s just a fool, and that’s why I feel so damn stifled!”

—-

Ning Yao squatted in front of the long bench, carefully scrutinizing Chen Ping’an’s sleeping face, her heart filled with astonishment.

Such supernatural powers were truly marvelous and indescribable!

Chen Ping’an’s strange sleeping posture gave off an aura of returning to simplicity.

Although Ning Yao couldn’t quite explain it, she possessed an extremely keen intuition for the quality of supernatural techniques.

Ning Yao turned her head curiously and asked, “Are you Chen Ping’an’s guide on his cultivation path?”

The old man smacked his lips, puffing on his pipe, crossing his legs, and gazed at the dim, rainy scene outside. He chuckled. “Cultivation? You call *this* cultivation? What, has another fellow who qualifies to establish a religion and found an order emerged? Is that why the world is going downhill, and the scenery on the path of cultivation gets worse year by year? It can’t be, those few aren’t vegetarians. Now that they have declared themselves gourmands, they can only continue on this road of no return, refusing to allow outsiders to share their food.”

Ning Yao was completely bewildered. “Senior Yang, what are you talking about?”

The old man stared, surprised. “Didn’t your elders tell you about the old grudges of those old antiques?”

Ning Yao shook her head. “My grandparents passed away early, and my parents don’t like talking about the stories of the other continents, fearing that I’ll run away from home.”

Old Yang turned and carefully sized up the girl, finally uttering a single sentence. “How many characters are carved on that wall now?”

Ning Yao honestly replied, “My grandparents’ generation produced many heroes, so two new characters were carved within a short century. Now there are a total of eighteen characters.”

The old man sighed. “So there are already eighteen characters. Dao, Law, the Western Heavens… After those six characters, what else was added?”

Ning Yao said in a low voice, “Thunder Pool Forbidden Ground, four characters. Sword Qi Everlasting, another four characters. Qi, Chen, Dong.”

Old Yang frowned. “Little girl, there’s one character missing. Did you eat it?”

Ning Yao said crossly, “I forgot!”

The old man didn’t press the issue, changing the subject. “Is it still the old rule? Only someone who slays an Ascendant Realm demon can have a character carved on the Great Wall?”

Ning Yao frowned. “Why do you know so much about the situation in my hometown?”

The old man laughed. “A long time ago, a foreign swordsman with the habit of writing travelogues wrote down all the local customs along the way. In the end, he died near our town, and I took back that thick travelogue and flipped through it when I had nothing to do.”

Ning Yao doubted the veracity of this explanation.

The old man seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. “Believe it or not, it’s up to you.”

Ning Yao observed Chen Ping’an’s state. It seemed somewhat like Daoist sitting meditation or Buddhist contemplation. She asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

Old Yang said slowly, “Minor death.”

Sleeping is like a minor death.

Ning Yao was somewhat helpless. This old man from the Yang family’s store either spoke in a way that was irritatingly harsh, or in ways that were rare and strange.

The old man muttered to himself, “Little girl, let me ask you. When a person thinks silently in their heart, whose voice is it?”

Ning Yao was stunned, falling into deep thought.

She naturally closed her eyes and focused her mind, soon feeling drowsy. Finally, she nodded abruptly and fell fast asleep.

Old Yang stood up, walked around the girl, and came before the boy, pointing his pipe at Ning Yao, and said to the boy, “Look at her. Just a few words of guidance, and she can break through her cultivation. Look at you. You don’t have any useful skills and you like to be stubborn. Who are you being stubborn with? Heaven and earth are taking a nap, how can you expect them to care for the likes of you?”

Old Yang went back to his seat, looking out at the increasingly heavy rain, with the heavy raindrops knocking on the courtyard ground, crackling and popping. The old man looked sad, “So many years have passed, and after all the effort of selecting people, I never thought it would be one of the least hopeful ones who would be the most tough.”

—-

A thin, gaunt child, carrying a large basket of wild vegetables on his back and stringing seven or eight small fish on a foxtail grass stem, walked through the alley. After the child opened his courtyard gate, the next door neighbor, a young master dressed in silken clothes, immediately stepped onto a stool and skillfully climbed the low courtyard wall, squatting there. Not caring that his expensive clothes were getting dirty, he laughed. “Hey, kid Chen, are you foraging again? You’re so skilled at living off the land, it’s amazing. Can I join you sometime? I’ll reward you with copper coins!”

The gaunt child smiled. “No need for money.”

The wealthy young master curled his lips. “Don’t want it? Fine with me! I don’t want to go anyway.”

The child took the small fish one by one from the foxtail grass, the larger ones as long as his palm, the smaller ones no bigger than a thumb. The child stood on tiptoe and put them on his window sill to dry. Once they were dried, they could be eaten without salt. And there was no need to gut them, it was not because the child was afraid of trouble, it was because if the child did do that, there would be no meat left. Anyway, they would taste very good dry, very crispy and very fragrant.

After saying these words, the young master on the wall actually felt some regret. In fact, he had always been envious of his neighbor, who was the same age, because he would always return home with things in hand, wild hares, loaches, stream fish, and wild fruits. They looked very tempting, not because he wanted to eat it, but he did want to have them, and that was all. But he, who was the most stubborn, did not want to change his mind, and he was upset when he saw that his neighbor’s actions were quick and carefree.

You, Chen Ping’an, are poor and can’t open the pot every day, sleeping in a leaky house, and unable to eat a candied hawthorn skewer all year round, what are you happy about?

The young master named Song Jixin, on the wall, could not understand this at all.

—-

One day, a child who was well-fed and clothed but could only live in Mud Bottle Lane returned home with a bruised face and covered in mud.

The girl who had just become his personal maidservant asked him what was wrong, but Song Jixin wouldn’t say anything, returning to his room, closing the door, and lying on the bed.

He had had an argument and even a fight with someone that day. Some vicious words still echoed in his ears, making the extremely proud child feel like his heart was being cut, his face sometimes sad and sometimes ferocious.

“Don’t you just have some smelly money? What are you so proud of? You’re even worse than Chen Ping’an. Although his parents died, at least he knows who his parents are. Do you even know who your parents are?”

The child surnamed Song tossed and turned on the bed, unable to sleep.

The next day, this child didn’t squat on the wall and chat with his neighbor as usual, but for the first time ever, he went to Chen Ping’an’s house.

After he said a sentence to Chen Ping’an, Chen Ping’an left the town not long after, breaking the oath he had made to his mother when she died, and became an apprentice at the Dragon Kiln at a young age.

—-

There was a figure, lurking stealthily near the back door of the shop’s main hall. After Old Yang caught a glimpse, he didn’t say anything, but simply turned his back, finding the sight offensive.

That figure felt particularly hurt by the old man’s actions.

What hurt him even more was the sight of a woman he should call sister-in-law, holding an umbrella in one hand and pushing his head away roughly with the other, striding towards the main house in the back. Seeing the old man, she immediately prepared to shout at the top of her lungs.

Old Yang sighed, hurrying to get up, walking out of the house, closing the door, and standing on the steps, looking at the woman who was putting on a posture of interrogation. The old man didn’t even feel like smoking his pipe.

The woman stopped, placing a hand on her hip and scolding, “What are you doing, are you guarding against thieves?! Old Man Yang, you’re at least my husband’s master, how can you always do such immoral things? Li Er was doing so well as a shop assistant, why did you kick him out? Is Yang’s Shop your own shop?! Huh? Did Li Er sleep with his master’s wife, or sleep with his master’s daughter?!”

The man who had been blocked from entering the street, shrunk his neck, hiding near the back door, wishing he could dig a hole and bury himself.

What kind of character the master was, and what kind of virtue Li Er’s wife had, how could he not be clear? So he felt that this time, he would lose a layer of skin even if he didn’t die.

Old Yang said expressionlessly, “Are you done talking? If you are, go home and call for spring, the sound of cats calling on the west side of town hasn’t stopped all year round, calling during the day and calling at night, causing many people to move away….”

The woman seemed to be struck where it hurt, her voice rising even higher, “You old, useless thing, and you dare to say ‘go home’! Your disciple has lost his livelihood, and all he knows is how to wander around aimlessly. The other day, our house’s roof collapsed, and we couldn’t even get the money to fix it, forcing me to take gold and silver back to my mother’s house, suffering humiliation! If Li Er hadn’t been kicked out of the shop by you, would my family of four be so miserable? Old Man Yang, quickly take out your coffin money to repair our house, or I won’t be done with you today!”

The old man looked coldly at the hiding man, Zheng Dafeng.

Zheng Dafeng said with a crying face, “Master, Li Er went to handle that matter according to your instructions, he definitely won’t be back for a while.”

The old man’s face turned gloomy.

Zheng Dafeng had the heart to kneel down and kowtow.

The woman dropped her oiled paper umbrella, sitting on the ground in the rain, wailing, “You old, useless thing, you like to sleep with your student’s wife!”

The old man moved a small stool to the eaves, sat down slowly, took out tobacco from the bag at his waist, ground it into a ball and put it in his pipe, puffing away, looking up at the sky, completely ignoring the woman.

Zheng Dafeng watched the woman roll around in the courtyard, making a scene. It was raining so heavily, and the woman had a very fertile and shapely figure, and her clothes were so thin, so many servants from Yang’s Shop rushed over to join in the fun, secretly gloating, feasting their eyes.

The woman’s crying was heart-wrenching, but it suddenly stopped, as if someone had grabbed her by the neck. She rubbed her eyes and quickly got up, picked up her oiled paper umbrella and ran away.

The woman ran while shouting, “There’s a ghost!”

The old man twitched his lips and said, “Rat droppings on the incense altar, hated by both gods and ghosts.”