The small town seemed to have encountered a celestial dog devouring the sun, a phenomenon unseen in centuries, and instantly fell into a pitch-black darkness where one couldn’t see their own hand in front of their face.

Adding to this, the stone statues outside the town exploded one after another like firecrackers, the sounds growing increasingly frequent. While the town fell silent due to the darkness, these noises became particularly jarring, undoubtedly deepening the ordinary townsfolk’s speculations. Recalling the ox carts and carriages carrying the wealthy families’ offspring that had departed earlier, the common people in the streets and alleys were filled with anxiety.

Within the towering walls of the Four Clans and Ten Families, without exception, whenever a servant girl or boy tried to take it upon themselves to hang up lanterns, they would quickly be met with loud scoldings. Some of the more short-tempered family managers would even smash the lanterns on the spot, crushing them underfoot, staring at the well-meaning servants with a grimace as if they were mortal enemies.

Over at the blacksmith shop, Chen Ping’an was sitting with Ning Yao by the well, eating lunch. Despite the strange darkness, Chen Ping’an didn’t hesitate to focus on his meal. The blacksmith shop provided excellent food, with each long and short-term worker receiving a thick, fatty piece of braised pork, about the size of a finger, along with a spoonful of gravy. Rice was plentiful, but each person only got one piece of meat. Chen Ping’an, with his appetite for two large bowls of rice, always received his meat from the cook and ate in a specific way. Because of the gravy, he would only eat rice from the first bowl, leaving the meat untouched. As he finished the rice, the braised pork would slowly slide to the bottom of the bowl. Then, he would get a second bowl of rice and finally devour the meat cleanly.

Ning Yao couldn’t help but smile whenever she saw Chen Ping’an eating his meal.

Ruan Xiu, on the other hand, wouldn’t react like Ning Yao. The green-clad girl’s gaze toward Chen Ping’an seemed to be conveying the message: “A kindred spirit.”

At this moment, Chen Ping’an held an empty white bowl in one hand and chopsticks in the other, straining his eyes to look around, barely able to make out anything beyond two or three zhang.

In the past few days, besides toiling away at Master Ruan’s blacksmith shop, Chen Ping’an had to dedicate three hours to practicing his stance work: one hour during the day, from the hour of Wu (11 AM-1 PM) to the hour of Wei (1-3 PM), and two hours at night, from the hour of Hai (9-11 PM) to the hour of Chou (1-3 AM). Later, Chen Ping’an tried to combine his stance work with the sword furnace technique, but found that it made his breathing labored and his steps even less steady. He promptly abandoned the attempt. Chen Ping’an only worked on the sword furnace technique in between his labor, when no one was watching, to nourish his body. In essence, he was just replacing his former pottery wheel work with the standing stance sword furnace from the撼山譜 (Hàn Shān Pǔ).

During the hour of Wu to Wei stance training, Ning Yao initially followed him a few times, offering a few half-hearted pointers before disappearing altogether. Chen Ping’an, not wanting to invite gossip, would walk along the stream downstream from the blacksmith shop for about a li before starting his daytime stance practice, returning afterward. This round trip was approximately ten li.

For Chen Ping’an, this had become a new, inviolable rule.

Now, sitting by the well, Ning Yao gazed at the dark cloth-like sky, her slender eyebrows, which detracted from her “pretty” image, furrowed slightly.

Chen Ping’an asked quietly, “Is it related to Master Qi?”

Ning Yao didn’t intend to tell him the truth, only giving a vague answer, “Since Master Qi is the master of this blessed land, it should be related to him.”

Chen Ping’an further inquired, “According to Song Jixin and Zhigui’s earlier statements, Master Qi originally planned to leave town with Zhao Yao, the scholar’s attendant, why didn’t he go in the end?”

Ning Yao shook her head, laughing, “The minds of sages are like dragon veins, capable of stretching for thousands of miles. I can’t guess, and I’m too lazy to even try.”

After saying that, she tossed her bowl and chopsticks into Chen Ping’an’s hands and got up to go to her own yellow mud-walled hut with a thatched roof. Ning Yao herself wondered why Master Ruan was so polite to her. Could Master Ruan have discerned her identity? It was highly unlikely, as Hanging Mountain wasn’t located in Dong Bao Ping Zhou, and Hanging Mountain had almost no connections with the outside world. Its reputation was great, but it had very few visitors. Furthermore, even those at Hanging Mountain weren’t sure of her identity. However, Ning Yao had a personality of “the boat will right itself when it reaches the bridge; if it doesn’t, I’ll just chop it straight with my sword.” She accepted the goodwill of Master Ruan, the number one swordsmith of Dong Bao Ping Zhou, with a smile.

Chen Ping’an, holding the bowls and chopsticks, was about to head to the kitchen when he noticed someone walking by, a young man with wide sleeves, even more scholarly looking than Chen Songfeng. He gave off an indescribable feeling, somewhat like Master Qi, and somewhat like Supervisor Song, whom he had met in Mud Bottle Alley.

The man saw the barefooted boy sitting alone by the well, and after meeting his gaze, he looked surprised. He approached the boy, smiling gently, “I have some business with Master Ruan. Do you know where he is?”

This time, Chen Ping’an didn’t deliberately hide the information like he did with Cai Jinjian and Fu Nanhua in Mud Bottle Alley. Instead, he directly pointed the way.

Firstly, Ning Yao had told him about Master Ruan’s prowess, and secondly, this man didn’t give Chen Ping’an the feeling of being a scheming, sinister person.

Chen Ping’an politely asked, “Do you need me to show you the way?”

The young man didn’t rush off, looking at Chen Ping’an with a smile, “No, it’s just a few steps, not a bother. Thank you.”

Chen Ping’an nodded with a smile and headed towards the kitchen, while the man walked towards a distant smithy.

After returning the bowls and chopsticks, Chen Ping’an found the apprentices and workers gathered in several huts, lighting oil lamps and discussing the cause of the sudden darkness. Some were adamant that a mountain god from a large mountain had crossed the border, causing the stream and well water to drop, angering the river god in charge of the streams and rivers, resulting in a battle between gods that darkened the sky and earth. Others refuted this with the words of the older generation, saying that the mountains here were all sealed off by the imperial court, so there were no mountain gods. Furthermore, such a small stream couldn’t possibly have a river god.

Chen Ping’an didn’t join in. Since he was idle anyway, he used his extraordinary eyesight to haul soil out of the last remaining well, one basket at a time.

Once, after climbing out of the well on the wooden ladder, he happened to see the man returning from the smithy. The man also noticed the boy, but didn’t approach or stop, simply waving goodbye to Chen Ping’an from afar.

Chen Ping’an felt somewhat moved. Regardless of whether this person was good or bad, at least he was different from the outsiders from the Positive Sun Mountain, Cloud Glow Mountain, Clear Breeze City, and Old Dragon City.

Chen Ping’an carried basket after basket of soil out of the well. After the last trip, he found Ruan Xiu standing near the well’s winch, a handkerchief filled with small pastries in her palm. When Chen Ping’an appeared, Ruan Xiu extended her hand, but Chen Ping’an, covered in mud and with dirty hands, shook his head with a smile. Then, Ruan Xiu sat on the edge of the well, eating the delicate pastries from the New Year’s lucky shop in Riding Dragon Lane. The green-clad girl was quickly immersed in the experience, radiating happiness and joy.

Chen Ping’an continued to haul soil back and forth. After a dozen or so trips, the girl with the ponytail was gone, but a handkerchief and a pastry were left on the well’s edge. It was the most famous peach wine-soaked cake from the lucky shop. Chen Ping’an was stunned for a moment, then took off the basket, placed it by his feet, sat on the edge of the well near the handkerchief, wiped his hands on his clothes, picked up the pastry with two fingers, and put it in his mouth.

Chen Ping’an nodded vigorously. It was indeed delicious.

After all, he was eating a whole ten coppers worth! Thinking of this, Chen Ping’an immediately felt it tasted even better.

Over the next few hours, the sky remained dim, and muffled drumming sounds occasionally echoed from the sky. Other than that, the town was normal. Master Ruan made an exception and let the blacksmith shop’s workers rest for two days, allowing them to return to their homes instead of staying here and waiting for “daylight” to continue working.

Chen Ping’an was included in this. He simply returned to town, went to Liu Xianyang’s house, and after finding that nothing was missing, he quickly extinguished the lamp, locked the door, and ran towards his own house in Mud Bottle Alley.

For some reason, Chen Ping’an felt that the town was now lifeless and lacking vitality.

Chen Ping’an didn’t know that as he ran across the covered bridge.

Floating on the surface of the water beneath the bridge was a tall woman in fluttering white robes. Her hair was snow-white, and her exposed hands and feet were as flawless as mutton-fat jade.

She was tilting her head, using the stream as a mirror, using one hand to arrange her hair, and the other to comb it. No one could see her face clearly.