Before the humble gates of Fallen Peak, Little Millet sat with an unnatural composure, the Golden Shoulder-Pole and Emerald Staff resting neatly on the table before her.

Master Immortal Wei was engaged in fervent conversation with a young Daoist clad in a lotus-crowned headdress, the two seeming to strike a deep chord.

The stranger claimed to have crossed paths with the Mountain Lord in his nascent days and declared himself a close and cherished friend of the esteemed Daoist Jingqing.

The small maiden, garbed in black, kept her gaze fixed on the two Daoists’ teacups. No matter how much they drank, the cups seemed bottomless, never affording her the chance to offer a refill.

Bored and restless, she unconsciously reached out, her fingers twirling the Emerald Staff. It emitted a soft, grating sound. She immediately ceased her action. As expected, the visiting Daoist turned her way. Little Millet quickly offered an apology, straightened her spine, and gestured forward with a hand, encouraging them to resume their discourse.

The Daoist, amiable as could be, chuckled, “Fear not, little one. In the grand Daoist academies, it is common for learned scholars, as lean as herons, to engage in both light banter and heated debate. When someone speaks with particular brilliance, it is customary for a chime of pure jade to resonate, a sound of exquisite clarity.”

Above, upon the mountain’s slopes, a youth in cerulean robes swaggered along the flagstone path that snaked towards the ancient, hallowed steps leading to the summit shrine. Intending to catch a breath of fresh air and perhaps chide the gatekeeper, Immortal Wei, for any slacking, Chen Lingjun stood akimbo, peering towards the gate. His heart lurched. Shielding his eyes with a palm, he realized with mounting dread that it was indeed him, that thrice-accursed fiend, daring to encroach upon their very doorstep. Remembering that his Lord’s true form was still occupied as a humble schoolteacher, Chen Lingjun shrank back, retreating stealthily towards his dwelling. Reaching his chambers, he leapt onto his bed, burying himself under the covers, hoping that not even the loudest thunder could rouse him.

“Daoist Jingqing, cease feigning ignorance! Come down to the foot of the mountain and share a cup of tea.”

Chen Lingjun clamped his hands over his ears, feigning deafness to the resonating voice. He hastened his flight, muttering to himself, “Last night, a tempest raged, lightning tore the sky, the wind uprooted trees, buildings swayed precariously. Truly, such a din was terrifying! My bed, nay, my entire abode, was a leaf afloat in a tumultuous sea of pine, deafening beyond measure. No wonder I hear nothing today! I have truly been struck deaf! What shall become of me? What shall become of me…”

Suddenly, a hand descended upon his head, halting his escape. Looking up, Chen Lingjun saw his Lord, his smile warm and comforting. “Let us descend together and receive our guest.”

The youth cleared his throat, his courage abruptly renewed. “Aye, it is meet that we confront this uninvited guest. My dislike for him is not new. Enough is enough!”

What mattered it that the Mountain Lord before him was not his true form?

He still remembered the Grand Opening ceremony of the Yellow Millet Sect at Lofty Mountain. The Mountain Lord, absent in true form, and this man, a certain Lu, had not seen eye to eye. It was time to reclaim that lost honor.

Lu Chen turned, catching sight of the azure-robed Chen Ping’an descending the mountain, his hands still stained with traces of ink.

The True Lord dwelled near the source of the Azure Brow River in a humble schoolhouse, while this Chen Ping’an was but one of his manifestations, tasked with ‘transcribing’, recording and compiling the experiences of the other six.

Lu Chen regarded him with a mournful gaze. “Chen Ping’an, I simply come as a neighborly visitor, my hands empty of gifts. Why do you harbor such displeasure?”

Word had reached him that his own shard of spirit, residing near the Scattered Blossom Banks of Jade-Cutting Mountain, had severed its connection to the Grand Dao.

Had he simply been caught off guard, ensnared by a trap set by Gao Gu of the Hua Yang Palace in Earth’s Womb Mountain, he might have borne it with more grace. But that Chen Ping’an, in his current state, was merely in the nascent Soul stage of cultivation…

What would become of things when Chen Ping’an ascended to the Heavens?

Chen Lingjun glared. “Insolence! How dare you address my Mountain Lord by his given name?!”

With the beneficent Mountain Lord by his side, Chen Lingjun felt as though he had drunk himself into a reckless stupor. His courage swelled with the power of drink, and he feared no one.

“Daoist Jingqing, fear not. Our paths shall cross again.”

Lu Chen turned to the cerulean-robed youth and offered a thumbs-up. “When that day arrives, I shall gift you a bowl. When fellow villagers meet, their eyes fill with tears. You may weep as freely as you wish and offer me, in turn, a bowl of bitter brew.”

Chen Lingjun flushed, grasping Chen Ping’an’s sleeve.

He recalled Bai Xuan’s oft-repeated adage: “Beware the night road, beware solitude.”

Chen Ping’an shook off his sleeve and pressed down on the youth’s head. “We stand on our own ground. Let us not surrender our dignity.”

With such support, Chen Lingjun’s demeanor shifted. He stood with arms akimbo, his lips moving, as if preparing some devastating retort.

Lu Chen warned, “Dare to spit, and face the consequences…”

He paused, lifting his teacup, and drained it in one gulp. He shook his head, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Then let us settle this with skill and prowess!”

Chen Lingjun paused, considering.

Little Millet, in a flurry of motion, hastened to Chen Ping’an’s side, standing on tiptoe, her hand shielding her mouth, as she whispered secrets. “Kind Mountain Lord, this Daoist Lu mentioned that you once journeyed together, traversing countless mountains and streams, enduring trials and tribulations. Yet, with brotherhood as your strength, you prevailed, escaping harm time and again. Then, at a place called Jade-Cutting Mountain, he paid and you were his guest, forming a gathering of drinkers. You complimented a certain Fairy Liang Yubing, whose Daoist name is ‘Banana Mountain’, on her beauty.”

“I, of course, believe nothing of it. Not at all! Immortal Wei, however… seemed to harbor some doubts.”

“Immortal Wei even inquired as to the Fairy Liang’s proportions. Daoist Lu painted a vivid portrait of her loveliness, employing a multitude of flowery phrases. Immortal Wei listened intently, only to utter a single, dismissive ‘Hmph’. Daoist Lu immediately shifted to simpler terms, stating that the Fairy Liang was pleasing to behold from both front and back, yet somewhat lacking in profile. Immortal Wei then sighed deeply, lifted his cup, and drank, his spirits noticeably dampened. Thereafter, the two Daoists engaged in what sounded like a contest of verses, one declaring ‘Through snow-bound lands, to the corners of the earth,’ and the other responding with ‘At the heart of the fire, reside in the heavens.’ There were other obscure phrases, too, but those I cannot recall. As you approached the gates, Mountain Lord, Daoist Lu spoke of the decline of the Dao and its return to fate, but he left the question hanging: To what does fate, in its decline, return?”

Chen Lingjun pricked up his ears. He hadn’t realized there was so much going on. It seemed reasonable that the Mountain Lord might have offered a few polite platitudes at a feast.

Immortal Wei, on the other hand, was utterly bewildered.

Had Little Millet truly been listening so attentively?

Had her yawns, her glazed eyes, and her nodding head been but a clever deception?

Of all the earnest discussions of philosophy, why had she failed to retain a single point, while these trivial whispers remained so firmly etched in her memory?

Little Millet flashed a smile at Immortal Wei, offering a thumbs-up, both complimenting and seeking praise. “Kind Mountain Lord, our Immortal Wei is a most attentive host. I have seen it all, without a single lapse. He is a pillar of steadfastness!”

Chen Ping’an approached the lauded Immortal Wei, placing his hands upon his gatekeeper’s shoulders. “Outsiders may doubt my integrity. That is their prerogative. But Immortal Wei is one of us. How can you harbor even a sliver of doubt?”

Immortal Wei protested, “I was merely led astray!”

Lu Chen adjusted his lotus-crowned headdress and chuckled. “Little Millet, Immortal Wei, your presence is no longer required. Allow me to reminisce with Mountain Lord Chen and Daoist Jingqing.”

Chen Ping’an nodded, and Little Millet obediently arose and returned up the mountain, intending to tell Sister Warm-Tree that she had encountered a young Daoist, a certain Lu, at the foot of the mountain, a fellow of humor and affability.

Immortal Wei bowed his farewell and retreated to the bamboo chair, withdrawing a well-worn book from his robe… Oh, a mistake! He quickly replaced it with a pristine, respectable tome.

Chen Lingjun joined the kind Mountain Lord on a bench, but realized that this arrangement placed him directly facing the Lu sect leader. Feeling uneasy, he inch by inch scooted his buttocks along the bench, until he sat at its far end. Still, he remained unsettled. Lifting his feet, he spun around, facing the mountains beyond. At once, he found the vista far more pleasing.

Lu Chen watched the retreating back of the cerulean-robed youth and, with a smile, grasped his white teacup. Turning it upside down, he let a single drop of tea fall upon the table. Instantly, mist billowed, forming a landscape painting.

It depicted a majestic mountain range, its peak marked by a saddle, within which flowed a stream spanned by a small bridge. An ancient shrine stood nearby.

Chen Ping’an glanced at it and inquired, “Does it not lack a tree?”

Lu Chen flicked his wrist, and more tea droplets landed upon the table. He exclaimed with feigned surprise, “Does Mountain Lord Chen possess such familiarity with the landscapes of our Azure Vast Heavens?”

Chen Ping’an chuckled, “The Azure Vast Heavens is said to be nine parts mountain, one part water. If Chen Lingjun had followed you there, would the Fish Amulet Dynasty have truly succeeded?”

Lu Chen grinned. “Success is the fruit of action, and with my encouragement and rallying, the success of that Daoist’s little… indiscretion, can hardly be guaranteed, one way or another!”

At this, Chen Lingjun whirled around, planting both hands on the table. “What are you two talking about?”

The painted landscape depicted the borderlands between Yong and Pei Provinces in the Azure Vast Heavens, the two divided by a great canal.

Within Yong Province, atop a mountain range submerged beneath the canal, a place recorded in local gazettes as the Dressing Table, or more commonly, the Washbasin, there existed a stone bridge spanning a ravine, named the Returning Dragon Bridge.

Beside the bridge stood a mountain spirit shrine, concealing one of the ancient ‘Joint Executions’. Outside the shrine grew an ancient camphor tree, said to govern the fortune of the Azure Vast Heavens’ four provinces.

Empress Zhu Xuan of the Fish Amulet Dynasty intended to hold a grand festival, and Lu Chen knew, without a shadow of doubt, that she would attempt to sever the tree’s four branches.

Before setting off on his journey to the Carp Pearl Grotto Heaven, Lu Chen had promised Zhu Xuan that he would bring her and the Fish Amulet Dynasty a chief devotee. Yet, Lu sect leader’s words had proved as hollow as wind, delayed time and again. Yet, Lu Chen dared to visit the mountain spirit shrine, and brazenly reneged on his promise.

As Chen Ping’an observed, the Azure Vast Heavens, unlike the water-rich Great Balance Heavens, was impoverished in its waterways. To nurture a true dragon there was a task akin to scaling the heavens.

Chen Ping’an realized, “Before the Old Abbot departed the Great Balance Heavens, he took with him a vast quantity of Eastern Sea water. By seniority, the Old Abbot could be considered Lu Sect Leader’s junior apprentice. By pouring this water into the source of the Great Canal, and allowing Chen Lingjun to walk the canal into the sea, the chances of him transforming into a dragon would be greatly enhanced. Such a passage had never occurred before and would likely never occur again. The Old Abbot’s offering of water was an act of great merit, strengthening the canal’s flow towards the sea. If Lu Sect Leader and the junior apprentice had reached an agreement beforehand, a portion of that merit could be transferred to Chen Lingjun, and the Fish Amulet Dynasty could provide cultivators along both banks to protect his journey, while Lu Sect Leader could secretly watch over him, eliminating all unforeseen events.”

Lu Chen glanced at the cerulean-robed youth and snorted. “Daoist Jingqing, did you hear?! You still glare and sneer at me?! Search your own conscience, with whom do you contend?”

The witless wretch was ungrateful beyond measure! If he had accompanied him to the Azure Vast Heavens back then, what unimaginable fortune awaited him? He could have lived a life of luxurious ease!

Lu Chen would have paved the way. As agreed, he would have first secured for him the position of chief devotee of the Fish Amulet Dynasty. Emperor Zhu Xuan, a woman of extraordinary ambition, would have undoubtedly emptied her treasury to ensure Chen Lingjun’s success in walking the canal, intent on assisting his transformation into a dragon. Beyond any doubt, he could have contended with Wang Zhu of Mud Alley for the title of the world’s first true dragon. As humanity witnessed the return of the true dragon, Chen Qingliu, the Dragon Slayer, would have been compelled to travel to the Azure Vast Heavens to investigate. Even if the sword cultivator did not involve himself in the conflicts of the Great Balance and Savage Heavens, he would still clash with Zhu Xuan and the mountain spirit shrine, or with the Taoist temple, within Yong Province, of the Taoist Wu Zhou. Undoubtedly, the ancient camphor tree would be felled in a trial by sword. Zhu Xuan’s auguries, then, would mean nothing, and the unsettled state of affairs in the kingdoms of the realm would be undone.

Though it would be merely a temporary measure, Lu Chen could, at the very least, delay things for the White Jade Capital and Senior Brother Yu by sixty years.

In all of this, the greatest beneficiary would be Chen Lingjun, the little Jiang Serpent. He would have to do nothing, and his safety would be guaranteed, with no lingering consequences. He would even gain an invisible protector. After all, as long as Chen Qingliu wished to remain at the fourteenth realm, the world must have a true dragon, and only one. Furthermore, judging from Chen Lingjun’s interactions with the Dragon Slayer over the years, he would likely get along well with Chen Qingliu in the Yong Province’s Fish Amulet Dynasty.

As for the journey along the canal, it would proceed as Chen Ping’an described. Aunt Bi Xiao’s waters from the Eastern Sea, contained within the gourd for nurturing swords, would be an indispensable component.

Otherwise, even if Lu Chen were in charge of White Jade Capital, he could not have raided Peter to pay Paul, risking the displeasure of the world by tilting the water fortune of the entire Azure Vast Heavens for Chen Lingjun’s sake.

Chen Lingjun furrowed his brow, holding up a finger. “Let me think. My mind is a swirl. I need to ponder this carefully before reaching a decision…”

Lu Chen rolled his eyes. “With a mind as muddled as yours, what conclusion could you possibly reach?”

Chen Ping’an chuckled, “What Sect Leader Lu is saying is that, had you followed him to Yong Province back then, you would have had a great chance of successfully traversing the canal and transforming into a dragon. You might well have become the world’s first true dragon, ahead of Wang Zhu of the Great Balance Heavens, a genuine creature with power over wind and rain. And you would not have had to fear being targeted by the Dragon Slayer. As a Heaven Ascended and true dragon, serving as chief devotee of the Fish Amulet Dynasty, you would have been akin to the sovereign of all the water fortunes of the Azure Vast Heavens’ fourteen provinces. And, most importantly, you would have possessed the greatest talisman. You would have been under the protection of the Great Dao of White Jade Capital. A world, a mountain immortal palace, a dynasty, wherever you went, you would be treated as an honored guest, and all would acclaim, ‘Venerable Ancestor Jingqing, a hero indeed!'”

The youth blinked. Now that the Mountain Lord put it that way, he understood. After a moment of silence, he posed a final question: “And then?”

What would happen to Fallen Peak? He lifted his gaze towards the mountain. There was the slow-witted girl, Little Millet, the old cook… And he saw the gatekeeper, Daoist Immortal Wei… Beyond, he saw the miserly Wei brother, who would often cause him to lose face, but in truth was always tied to Fallen Peak inseparably.

Chen Ping’an and Lu Chen exchanged glances.

What did he say?

Lu Chen smiled.

As he expected.

Most would regret their choice. Knowing that the opportunity was lost, they would try to sound nonchalant or put on a brave face, unwilling to admit that they had missed a golden opportunity.

But Chen Lingjun was truly different.

The youth was a great believer in loyalty.

Friends might wrong me, but I must not wrong my friends.

That, perhaps, was the sole tenet by which Chen Lingjun navigated the world.

It was a principle understood by ninety-eight out of a hundred people. The other two either remained firm skeptics or simply paid no attention.

Ultimately, Chen Lingjun could not bear to abandon all the people and all the things of Fallen Peak.

Lu Chen waved his sleeve, gathering the landscape painting from the table. Chen Ping’an asked Chen Lingjun to fetch a pot of water from the hearth.

It was the tea roasted by the old cook using leaves harvested this year from the old tea trees of Yellow Lake Mountain. The pre-rain tea stood up to many infusions, and the spring water gave it a sweet taste.

Chen Lingjun filled the two teacups, seemingly forgetting his own. Chen Ping’an told him to leave the teapot on the table, as he was occupied.

His steps were a bit unsteady, as he went to Immortal Wei’s side, patted him on the shoulder, and shared a few weighty words before slowly going up the mountain.

“In the jianghu, loyalty comes first. One should not be swayed by poverty or subdued by force. If circumstances force one to bow, it is not shameful. A hero knows when to yield.”

“That fool Lu Chen, does he think I am a simpleton? If I became a true dragon, would the Dragon Slayer not come for me?”

“He has no brains. Anyone with a modicum of wit would see the foolishness of his empty boasts. A third master of White Jade Capital? I could do it, too, but they would have to beg!”

Spotting Little Millet with the golden pole and emerald staff, Chen Lingjun nodded, looking aged beyond his years. “Little Millet, out on patrol, are you?”

Little Millet did not stop, only glancing at him with a sigh. Jingqing was kind, but his mind… She worried.

Chen Lingjun, originally intending to boast to Little Millet, found his spirit dampened. Cutting off the idle chat, Chen Lingjun hastened to catch up with Little Millet, swinging his sleeves, as he asked, “Are there still any tea leaves? I saw quite a few the other day. It should be enough to fill a pouch, unless the old cook has stolen them.”

Little Millet pursed her lips, her eyes darting, as she gasped. “I knew it! I should have checked before sleeping! Gone, just like that!”

Chen Lingjun feigned anger. “That gluttonous thief of an old cook, defying all laws! Come, let us reason with him!”

Little Millet hastily seized Chen Lingjun’s sleeve, wrinkling her thin eyebrows. “Jingqing, Jingqing, I know another good place! Many tea leaves!”

Lu Chen spoke suddenly, “Assembling words and phrases, layers upon layers, only adding, never subtracting, too much is as bad as too little.”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “Those incarnations will not remain outside for long.”

Lu Chen said, “Roughly how many originals are needed? Thirty? Or should we round it to a hundred? Or be safe with three to five hundred?”

In truth, when one spoke, one only needed those few hundred common words.

For example, at the Bamboo Branch Sect of Jade-Cutting Mountain, besides the helpers from the Outer Gate Reception lineage, there were the stone workers, the mining official Bai Bo, Xiahou Zan of the Water Dragon Peak and Liang Yubing of the Chicken Foot Mountain. Yet, among those thirty-odd figures, Lu Chen’s ‘originals’ would not number more than one’s fingers, and had nothing to do with their status, cultivator or not, nor the heights of their cultivation.

However, Lu Chen felt that Chen Ping’an was searching for something at Jade-Cutting Mountain, his intentions hidden deeply.

It was not something as small as spying on the Right Yang Mountain. When Lu Chen decided to deduce things, Chen Ping’an used a magical charm, or perhaps some instinct, to capture Lu Chen’s stray spirit in a ‘prison’. Lu Chen could have forced his way out of the cage, but that would have made them full-blown enemies. Lu Chen feared neither man nor god, but the “not self”. Lu Chen’s Path was almost devoid of good or evil, in stark contrast to Chen Ping’an’s division between them, as pure as the primal Chaos.

Chen Ping’an said, “I will not force it. I will travel to the Central Earth Divine Continent later.”

Lu Chen chuckled, “Your sword path is mysterious, but it is far simpler than Yu’s search for the five hundred spirits.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Sect Leader Lu does not need to remind me of the distance between us. I know it better than anyone.”

Lu Chen questioned, “You have never personally experienced Senior Brother Yu’s arts and swordsmanship. How can you know the extent of the difference?”

Chen Ping’an replied, “Then consider it a boast.”

Lu Chen drank his tea, chewing on the leaves.

Chen Ping’an said, “Aside from cultivation, there is another reason to manifest in the world. After cultivating on the mountain for too long, one can easily forget the past.”

It was like looking at the mountain from its foot.

Lu Chen nodded. “Habit itself is a form of self-imposed forgetfulness.”

Chen Ping’an raised his cup, clinking it with Lu Chen’s, using tea as if it was wine.

Only those who had achieved something great could speak the words of a sect leader.

Chen Ping’an smiled. “From a young age, whenever I went on travels, I had the habit of counting those that were mentioned in books. Among the top ten, Sect Leader Lu is in the lead. The numbers of the fourth through tenth combined still cannot beat the name ‘Lu Chen’.”

Lu Chen asked, “What if we add the third?”

“Still not as many as Lu Chen alone.”

Lu Chen asked, “And if we add the second?”

“Still not as many.”

Lu Chen praised, “So I am that amazing.”

The young Daoist with the lotus crown looked up at Fallen Peak.

Where clouds are born, there are people’s houses.

A petal of the Daoist crown shone with holy light, and a stray spirit returned.

Lu Chen, holding his cup in one hand, tapped the table with two fingers. “Don’t you see that the world is like a mural, water as paint, mountains as paper, spirits and demons roaming the walls, a spring breeze bringing sword light, I heard an immortal speak of old, Heavenly Kings divide the four domains, palace of water spirits, green glazed tiles, colorful banners held high with peacock fans, heavenly maidens dressed in hemp, golden whips driving kylin steeds. Sun against moon, yin against yang, heavenly god against earthly spirit, god against immortal, thunder against wind, a Confucian temple on the left, a military temple on the right, and in the middle, a city god temple, mountain hibiscus in brocade skirts, pure offerings sitting coolly in a vase, who worships the heavens? Golden bells and jade chimes ring, the sound echoing off the mountain. A man returns halfway, a pillow of bones under a plum tree, worried that fog will rise from the bottom of the mural, the mountain gate is lifted to the sky…”

Just then, a man ran down from the mountain, laughing loudly, “Daoist Lu, here to set up a stall and freeload?! The pretty girl that we flirted with in town has long since married. Come, I’ll lead the way. The state city has no shortage of good-looking girls. One generation dies and another is born, more than there were back then!”

Lu Chen grimaced at the sound of that voice, and was about to slip away, but the man grabbed his shoulder, increasing the pressure, “Where are you running? We’re old friends! Let’s work together, the same as the old days! You made a lot of money off me back then…”

Lu Chen had no choice but to settle back on the bench. “Brother Great Wind, there’s no need to be so polite. Back then, whenever you were next to my stall, there was no business at all, you blocked the way to riches! The young ladies all came for me, and turned around when they saw you. Did I say anything? Isn’t that brotherly enough?!”

Zheng Dafeng said with a smile, “Why mention the past?”

Lu Chen nodded, and said, “It hurts, it hurts.”

Chen Ping’an rose. “You can talk about whatever. I wouldn’t understand it anyway.”

Lu Chen hurriedly called out, “Don’t go! We’re all acquaintances. Let’s all talk!”

Chen Ping’an sat back down, and asked, “What is Sect Leader Lu doing in the Great Balance Heavens this time?”

Lu Chen said, “If Mountain Lord Chen has something to do, feel free to leave. Brother Dafeng will take good care of me.”

Chen Ping’an thought. “Looking for a cultivator?”

In fact, the Floating Jade Continent, the Parasol Leaf Continent, and the Treasure Bottle Continent were all looking for such a potential ‘cultivator’.

According to Cui Dongshan’s deductions, it was a child of a Great Balance human woman and a Savage Heavens demon cultivator.

Cui Dongshan wanted to be the first to find this person, but it was in vain, like how he wanted to find ‘Lantern’ in the Five Colors Heavens.

Although Chen Ping’an’s words were confusing, Lu Chen nodded, worried. “It’s very troublesome! In a sense, we’ve already found them twice, but we couldn’t catch them. Look at the hour scale of that Savage Heavens, and you’ll know why. The Confucian Temple has a headache. This time, I offered to help, and the Confucian Temple didn’t stop me. Leaving them in the Great Balance is like holding a hot potato. We can’t cut the grass and eliminate the roots, as that would go against propriety. We can’t imprison them either, since they haven’t committed any crimes. We can’t just ignore them, as they would continue to grow. They are a natural for cultivation, able to find money on the road, and pick up Daoist books and secrets in the mountains. It’s not good to have a powerful cultivator watching, waiting for them to make a mistake so that they can kill them. Isn’t that punishing without teaching? Who would be willing to take on such karma? Even if there was someone willing, could they change the result by changing the trajectory? If I am not mistaken, that child already has a great hostility towards the entire Great Balance Heavens, such as… watching a peaceful, kind father be killed by a Great Balance cultivator, just to get credit for battle, without asking about the facts. Even the child did not know that their father was a Savage Heavens demon, and their mother was also affected. What if the woman was even prettier? That possibility is just one of many. There could be countless worse situations and results. Their hatred for the Great Balance Heavens would deepen with time, and with their rise in cultivation, they would gain even more malice. The Savage Heavens demons and demon cultivators who died here, their pure malice, would be constantly transmitted and stacked onto this cultivator in a way that is difficult to observe and track, until one day, when they reach the Heaven Ascended realm, they will reveal themselves, and be in the Savage Heavens, with Fei Ran and Shou Chen. It is very likely that the near collision between the two worlds was intentional, just to allow this child to grow faster in a more hidden way. With each ten-year journey to the heavens, Li Sheng finds that this person has grown stronger, but is still a mortal. It’s a good thing you didn’t act rashly. If the Central Earth Lu Clan’s Tower of Heaven and Orchid Bureau were destroyed… that’s okay. Money could fix it, but if the Lu Clan’s yin-yang viewers of the sky and land died, with few remaining, and the Lu family head was severely injured, the consequences would be unthinkable. The Lu Clan currently has a man and a woman that are pure, heaven-sent, the Great Balance Heavens cannot be said to be without others that could find that cultivator, but with them it would be a great deal different. If they, you, Young Master Mo, and Xie, had met that night, what would have become of it? What a muddle!”

Having spoken so much, Lu Chen quickly finished his tea. “I haven’t spoken so much in a long time. I almost choked.”

Zheng Dafeng laughed. “Then I’ll be your son. Write a will, and give me your inheritance.”

Lu Chen said, “Brother Dafeng, would your parents be happy to hear you say that?”

Chen Ping’an asked, “Assuming the Confucian Temple cannot find this person, starting today, how many years will it take them to reach the fourteenth realm?”

Lu Chen said, “I’ll make a guess, and don’t expect it to be accurate. Say that they reach the Cave Heaven stage after sixty years, and ascend to the heavens within a hundred. But it is hard to say how long it would take after that to reach the fourteenth realm. A hundred years? A thousand? Brother Dafeng, I might as well have said nothing.”

Chen Ping’an continued, “What are your chances of finding this person?”

“The hexagram is strange.”

Lu Chen raised his hand, pretending to stroke his beard. “To be honest, I was almost there. But when I stepped onto the Treasure Bottle Continent, I immediately lost the clue.”

Lu Chen waved his hand. “It only sounds scary. If we take a step back and look at it on paper, what is one Heaven Ascended worth? As for a hundred years from then, or a thousand years, at most, there will be another fourteenth realm. Whether I find them or not doesn’t really matter.”

Zheng Dafeng said, “In the future, when this person slaughters the Great Balance Heavens, and does it for malice, who will remember their childhood? Perhaps, even they will forget.”

The young Daoist was silent.

Chen Ping’an looked gloomy.

Lu Chen hugged the back of his head, and muttered, “What should I do?”

The best he could do was to do what he could.

Lu Chen swayed and asked suddenly, “Chen Ping’an, what would you do if you saw this person?”

Chen Ping’an rose. “An ordinary heart.”

Lu Chen looked at the receding back on the steps.

Zheng Dafeng slammed the table. “Daoist Lu, when will we go to the state city to set up a stall?”

Lu Chen was startled, and stammered, “Brother Dafeng, I don’t think there is any need for that.”

After drinking with the master and Aunt Bi Xiao, Lu Chen had gone to the Smoke Cloud Cave of the White Jade Capital’s Town Mountain Palace.

As expected, there was a harvest. Zhang Fenghai was talented, and calculated most of a prophecy.

The Dao will be lost for three hundred years, and then we will have this lord. After Lu Chen’s deductions, he found that it was Dao will be lost for five hundred years, then we will have the Chen lord.

But the problem was that Chen Ping’an’s surname was Chen, and so was Senior Brother!”