The seasons turned, year after year, as spring departed and returned, blossoms bloomed and withered, all under the dominion of the Eastern Sovereign.

A young man in white robes strolled alone on the official road outside the capital. His hands were each clutching a large bunch of bamboo skewers laden with stinky tofu, and he was eating with chili oil smeared all over his mouth.

Chewing heartily on the stinky tofu, the youth suddenly looked up at the sky, his cheeks bulging. He marveled, “Having received the good tidings of a True Immortal, there is no longer any doubt between the mortal realm and the heavens.”

The night sky, which had been sparsely dotted with stars, was instantly transformed into a dazzling river of stars, as if a bright moon had temporarily yielded its place to a celestial river. However, this extraordinary sight was fleeting.

No doubt the imperial astronomical observatories of various nations had already captured this strange phenomenon. Inevitably, chaos would soon erupt, promising a sleepless night for many.

Cui Dongshan pursed his lips, “So the latest existence of the Fourteenth Realm has come to pass?”

Presumably, the Old Scholar had assisted Immortal Yu a great deal. Otherwise, according to Cui Dongshan’s deductions, Yu Xuan’s chance for Dao Integration would have come after the dispersal of the Three Sages.

He raised the stinky tofu in his hand and wrote the character “丂” in the air.

Cui Dongshan withdrew his hand, quickly devoured a few more skewers of stinky tofu, discarded the bamboo sticks, and freed one hand to flick his snow-white sleeve, which he called his “Fool-Beating Pouch.”

From within tumbled a Golden Core Earth Immortal, none other than Liu Mao, the Dragon Continent Daoist from Yellow Flower Temple in Mirage City.

Mountains and rivers stretched far, and the long night was filled with endless possibilities. The journey to their destination was still a considerable distance away, so he needed someone to chat with and dispel the boredom.

Liu Mao steadied himself after being ejected from the sleeve, uncertain of his location, and dared not ask a single question.

Cui Dongshan raised his hand, “Want some stinky tofu?”

Liu Mao shook his head, “I’m not used to it.”

Cui Dongshan complained, “Spoiled and pampered, delicate and tender, so pretentious.”

Liu Mao dared not retort.

If the young Hidden Official was considered to be deeply cunning, with some traceability to his train of thought, albeit requiring considerable brainpower to communicate with, then this Sect Master Cui, who claimed to be his student, was simply an incomprehensible madman. Even if Chen Pingan’s words were veiled and unpleasant, he would not, after all, launch a sudden attack on him, but Cui Dongshan would, and he would attack Liu Mao at the slightest disagreement, calling it “enlightenment through pushing and knocking.”

Cui Dongshan chewed on the stinky tofu, shaking his head and swaying his body, “Delicious, delicious, exquisite!”

Liu Mao followed him silently, forced to admit that he had been confident in forming his core during this closed-door cultivation. However, without the “intrusion” of this young man in white during his seclusion, Liu Mao did not believe he could have achieved a “Third Grade Core,” earning that unexpected and previously unimaginable celestial phenomenon in the alchemic chamber: a purple mist rising, the chamber transforming into a city of books with shelves holding fifty thousand scrolls.

It was said on the mountains that a First Grade Core was a shoo-in for ascension, such as Celestial Master Zhao Tianlai of Dragon Tiger Mountain, True Man Fire Dragon of Crawling Peak, and Wei She of皚皚洲, who called himself the Master of Seventy-Two Peaks. However, most of the Ascension Realm cultivators had formed their cores in their early years, and they were mostly Second Grade Cores, so a Third Grade Core was still the dream of many Earth Immortals.

In return, Liu Mao needed to assist this first Sect Master of Green Willow Sword Sect in quietly completing a task: devising a seismograph that could accurately measure the topographical changes of Tongye Continent.

Liu Mao had no choice but to agree. But wasn’t this grand undertaking exactly what Liu Mao had thought about, but could only ever be a pipe dream on his own?

Cui Dongshan casually asked, “Even I find your improved Chicken-Claw Pen pleasing to the eye. Has your Emperor found buyers for the second batch?”

Liu Mao answered truthfully, “The Emperor’s intentions are unknowable.”

The previously impoverished Great Spring Dynasty had established a new Stationery Bureau under the Ministry of Revenue. Yao Jinzhi intentionally or unintentionally had the factory built near Lotus Bridge, close to the Bureau of Treasury and the Granary Department, only a few steps away from Liu Mao’s Yellow Flower Temple. The Emperor had visited the temple and spoken with Liu Mao. Not long after the Emperor returned to the palace, Liu Mao gained a prestigious and influential official position, and also received a secret enshrinement status in the Ministry of Justice. With Liu Mao’s help, the Stationery Bureau quickly became a cash cow for the court.

The main product was the “Imperial-Made” Chicken-Claw Pen, which was now sold far and wide to mountain immortal residences and countries, turning a huge profit and solving Great Spring Yao’s urgent problems.

Cui Dongshan laughed, “Selling something worth ten taels of silver for the price of a Snowflake Coin, Master Fan of the Merchants’ Guild and Zhang Zhi of Packcloth Studio must be drooling.”

Liu Mao hesitated to speak, but managed to hold back.

Wasn’t your teacher the biggest contributor?

Great Spring Yao did not need to find buyers for the first batch of Chicken-Claw Pens, because Jade Decree Sect had already ordered a full thirty thousand pens, to be sold in a bundle with the Plum Blossom Writing Paper secretly made by the Jiang Clan’s Cloud Grotto Blessed Land. A Chicken-Claw Pen under the guise of “Imperial-Made” was priced at one Snowflake Coin, which was a full one thousand taels of silver! But in fact, the cost of the materials was around seven or eight taels of silver, and at most a little more was added for cloud patterns and auspicious words, and even adding the labor costs of skilled craftsmen, it would not exceed ten taels of silver.

No wonder Liu Mao was stunned when he heard the price.

The court’s pricing was indeed too black-hearted. But since they were earning the money of mountain immortals and nobles of various countries, it did not harm the poor. Besides, Liu Mao, a temple master, had completely severed ties with his identity as a former prince. Especially since Liu Mao had just formed his Golden Core not long ago, becoming a legendary land immortal, he had no interest in these secular disputes, or rather, he was forced to protect himself and make trade-offs.

Cui Dongshan ate the remaining stinky tofu and threw the bamboo skewers out one by one as hidden weapons, shouting “Swish, swish, swish.”

Then, after belching, Cui Dongshan twisted his wrist and produced a bamboo object, smiling, “Dragon Continent Immortal, do you know how to tinker with this?”

Liu Mao nodded. With his wide knowledge, he naturally recognized this “bamboo tube,” which was commonly known as a fisherman’s drum in the countryside, and also had a name in Taoism, the Dao Drum, which was slightly different from the fisherman’s drum. In the past, some scholars and elegant gentlemen in the Great Spring Dynasty also liked to play with this object, beating the fisherman’s drum, singing Taoist songs, and reciting a chapter of morality and Huang Ting classics. When Liu Mao was still a prince of the Great Spring Dynasty, he was known for his elegance.

Cui Dongshan began to beat the Dao Drum by himself, but deliberately played out of tune, making it only sound noisy to Liu Mao, an expert.
Knowing that Liu Mao was a man with obsessive compulsions, he endured it rather laboriously. Back then, in the Taoist temple’s study, even if Chen Ping’an simply misplaced a book, Liu Mao would feel extremely uneasy.

On this desolate and lonely official road, Cui Dongshan, while skipping and wailing like a ghost, jested with Liu Mao, “The Gao clan of the Great Sui Dynasty in the Jade Bottle Continent, a reign of one thousand two hundred years, a full one thousand two hundred years! It’s just that the Jade Bottle Continent was small back then, and no one looked up to it. Otherwise, if it were spread abroad, it would scare people to death. In the history of the Central Earth Divine Continent, how many dynasties could be so long-lived? The Gao clan of the Great Sui Dynasty is a close neighbor of the Great Li Dynasty. Do you know where the Gao clan’s land of rising dragons is located?”

Liu Mao said, “Yiyang Prefecture. Historical records indicate that the locals have always favored the Yugu drum.”

Cui Dongshan gave Liu Mao a thumbs-up, praising, “Useless knowledge, yet you know so much.”

Liu Mao remained silent.

Cui Dongshan laughed, “If I have the chance, I must introduce you to the current Emperor of the Great Sui Dynasty, as well as Yu Lu, who hails from the Lu clan dynasty. The three of you have roughly similar origins and similar circumstances, like brothers in hardship. When you gather together, you’ll have things to talk about. If you drink too much, and each of you speaks of your sorrows, you’ll surely embrace each other and weep bitterly, causing anyone who sees you to feel disheartened.”

One is a crown prince of a fallen kingdom, burdened with half the martial fortune of his nation, reduced to a stray dog who doesn’t even dare retain his surname. Yu Lu, Yu Lu, the remnant of the Lu clan, the “Remaining Lu”.

The new Emperor Gao Xuan of the Great Sui Dynasty has good aptitude for cultivation and deep fortune. Otherwise, in the Rosy Pearl Grotto-Heaven, Gao Xuan would not have been able to “purchase” that golden carp and a dragon king’s basket from Li Er. Back then, because of the alliance with the Song clan of the Great Li Dynasty, Gao Xuan had to go to the Deerwood Academy in the Cloud-Veiled Mountain of Dragon Spring County as a hostage. Because he had long been cultivated as the crown prince and heir apparent, even though he could have ascended the mountain to cultivate as a long-lived immortal, he had to abide by the rules of the Confucian Temple and sit on the dragon throne as emperor, sacrificing his lifespan, which was tantamount to “seeking his own demise.”

As for the Liu Mao beside him, he was unlucky and had a tortuous fate, and he had no choice but to embark on the path of cultivation.

If he could, Liu Mao would surely be willing to exchange a future achievement on the mountain’s Great Dao for a dragon robe, just to be an emperor in the mortal world for sixty years.

Each had their desires, and each was denied.

Liu Mao said with a calm expression, “Then I will have to trouble Sect Master Cui to introduce me.”

Cui Dongshan put away the bamboo Taoist tube and placed it back in his sleeve, rubbing his chin.

Back then, when Martial Aunt Ning Yao entered the Rosy Pearl Grotto-Heaven, she had suffered a seemingly senseless and insidious sneak attack.

To this day, the source of this attack has not been traced, which is a vexing matter that troubles Cui Dongshan whenever he thinks of it.

The old bastard probably guessed it, but deliberately didn’t say it. Qi Jingchun probably calculated it, but also didn’t tell his own teacher.

The teacher must have cared the most, but so many years have passed, and he still hasn’t mentioned a word to anyone.

Yiyang Yugu Drum, the vassal Huangting Kingdom of the Great Sui Dynasty.

Cui Dongshan sighed and scratched his head vigorously.

In the corner of Liu Mao’s eye, the white-clad youth possessed a unique demeanor.

He seemed relaxed and indolent, as if his form were about to dissolve. Occasionally, he was erratic, as if lost or in deep thought.

Cui Dongshan stood on tiptoe, looking into the distance, and said, “Fellow Taoist from Dragon Continent, we must hurry.”

Liu Mao nodded. After becoming a Core Formation cultivator, cultivators could shrink the earth veins, traversing mountains and rivers as easily as crossing ridges and ditches.

Truthfully, if he hadn’t been captured by Cui Dongshan and trapped in his sleeve after becoming an Earth Immortal, only occasionally being tossed out to breathe like tonight, Liu Mao would have wanted to find a secluded place to study, practice, and display various Earth Immortal supernatural powers long ago.

Shrinking the earth to walk mountains and rivers, treading emptiness to chase the sun and moon, ascending to heaven in broad daylight.

However, Cui Dongshan neither shrunk the earth nor rode the wind, but instead used a clumsy method that made Liu Mao both amused and annoyed: the art of the straw sandals, the quick-march technique, a common mountain immortal art used by cultivators below the fifth realm.

Liu Mao saw Cui Dongshan writing the name of an ancient god on his forehead in a serious manner, then squatting down, tying red book talisman strips to his legs, standing up, shaking his wrists, and jumping a few times with effort.

Then, Cui Dongshan shook out a talisman horse from that snow-white sleeve that seemed like a “treasure chest.” When it landed, it was a snow-white divine steed. “Fellow Taoist from Dragon Continent, what are you waiting for? Mount the horse! This is the White Jade Lion Horse that is often seen in martial arts novels! From head to tail, it is over ten feet long, and from hoof to spine, it is eight feet tall, extraordinarily divine, capable of traveling a thousand miles a day and eight hundred miles at night. Your and my realms are humble, so we can only rely on external objects to hurry. If our Dao skills are not enough, we can make up for it with money!”

As he spoke, the white-clad youth rushed forward, laughing loudly and shouting, “Off we go, soaring through the clouds!”

Liu Mao mounted the talisman horse. The two of them, one person and one horse, sped along the post road like thunderbolts, both figures blurring as if stretched into a white silk ribbon.

Cui Dongshan ran wildly, waving his hands, rushing like lightning, “Cloud Cliff Kingdom, ha, Shao Yunyan, our Sword Immortal Shao should really come and take a look around here.”

Only then did Liu Mao realize that he had come to the Cloud Cliff Kingdom.

Afterward, Cui Dongshan entered a county town. In this Red County realm within the capital region of the Cloud Cliff Kingdom, where there were as many as six county lieutenants, Cui Dongshan put away his mysterious and Taoist airs, took back the talisman horse from Liu Mao’s hand, and, familiar with the area, threaded through the streets and alleys, eventually bringing Liu Mao to a closed bookstore, a store with a workshop in the back.

In fact, almost the entire street was filled with bookstores. Cui Dongshan stood at the entrance and asked, “Do you know why the entire capital region of the Cloud Cliff Kingdom has not suffered from the disasters of war?”

Liu Mao shook his head and said, “I don’t know.”

Some powerful dynasties in the mortal realm often liked to compile large-scale series of books, numbering in the tens of thousands of volumes, as a symbol of political clarity and peaceful prosperity.

For example, when the surname of the Great Spring Dynasty was still Liu, it had compiled a vast and voluminous work, and the prince Liu Mao was the real chief supervisor behind the scenes.

The capital of the Cloud Cliff Kingdom, on the other hand, had become a paradise that had luckily escaped that war from beginning to end. After the restoration, it required almost no construction or repairs.

Regarding why the Cloud Cliff Kingdom was able to escape this calamity, the immortal masters of the continent had various theories. For the Qin family of Cloud Cliff, it was naturally the ancestors who had manifested.

Cui Dongshan rubbed his hands and said with a smile, “The poor suspect that spring is scarce in humble alleys, while the rich think that the moon is brightest in grand mansions. The book city never sleeps. Let’s go in and take a look, and broaden your horizons.”

In this Cloud Cliff Kingdom, not only was the officialdom printing books on a large scale, but private engraving and publishing by booksellers were also flourishing.
In an unremarkable shop, a rough estimate revealed over ninety thousand printing blocks stored within its warehouse.

Cui Dongshan, hands behind his head, chuckled, “Not a family of scholars, but a lineage of nobility. A rich literary atmosphere, growing ever stronger. Whether they are laurel or orchid, outstanding or promising, heroes will emerge in succession, and the fragrance of books will never fade.”

“I must inform the owner of the bookstore that they have been robbed!”

“Such chivalrous spirit is truly laudable and moving.”

Liu Mao remained silent, already able to ignore Cui Dongshan’s absurd behavior and strange words.

Cui Dongshan collected all the printing blocks into his pouch, then asked Liu Mao to wait there for a moment, saying he was going to meet a future guest official of his own sect.

The white-clad youth walked alone on the street.

The jade rabbit flies, the crow hastens; the world of mortals knows only past and future.

May the Green Emperor always reign, and never let the flowers fall in this world.

Inside the ancestral hall of an old mansion, two portraits hung on the wall, without any names inscribed.

On the altar, besides the incense burner, were several exquisitely bound ancient books, wrapped in cyan and white silk.

A middle-aged man, unremarkable in appearance, wore an unusual garment of mixed greens, reds, moon-whites, and gray-blacks.

After offering incense, he placed the three sticks into the burner, not turning around, and said calmly, “Since you are a cultivator who has ascended the mountain, why come down to steal?”

A head popped out from the roof beam, “A gentleman on the beam is still a gentleman.”

It was a square-faced youth in white. Upon being discovered, he tumbled and fell to the ground.

As the youth landed, he seemed to sprain his ankle, first grimacing, then appearing unable to bear the pain, suddenly raising his leg and clutching his knee, standing on one foot, and howling.

The scholar frowned and reminded, “Silence.”

The square-faced youth patted his belly, “A little hungry. I wonder if there’s any food here, just plain white rice is fine, no need for wine or dishes. I’m very easy to please.”

The scholar remained silent, quietly observing this uninvited guest of unknown origin.

The youth smiled playfully, “But preferably the kind of rice cooked with firewood that has endured hardship, like from demolished cart axles. I wonder if you have any here?”

The scholar narrowed his eyes, his face darkened, and stared intently at the seemingly unrestrained youth.

The white-clad youth, hands behind his back, looked at a hanging portrait on the wall, “Oh, what a coincidence, you’re actually worshiping Sir Zeng Gong. Such a high official. As for the other’s identity, let me guess.”

“It is said that good paper can last for a thousand years, but what is the reality? If books are not properly preserved, insect damage, mold, etc., are minor calamities. Fires in libraries, being sold from hand to hand, or being used as burial objects by some pedantic scholars are medium calamities. However, war and imperial decrees to destroy banned books are the great calamities of books.”

At this point, the youth shifted his gaze to the ancient books on the table, “If each ancient book can be passed down for hundreds of years, is it not divine protection? Am I wrong?”

The youth then withdrew his gaze, turned to the scholar, and smiled, “You are also an undeniable meritorious official, at least preserving a portion of the literary fortune of Tongye Continent.”

The scholar mocked himself, “Just self-preservation, not worthy of merit.”

Cui Dongshan nodded, “Of course, I’m just being polite. My teacher taught me that sweet talk gets you far.”

Cui Dongshan nodded to himself, “When you’re out and about, helping someone is no big deal, a little effort is not worth much. Why not?”

The scholar twitched his lips and said, “It seems you have a good teacher.”

“Having immortals and Buddhas at home, using the true Dao daily. Like entering a chamber of fragrant orchids, a treasure trove of secrets, influenced by what you see and hear, even if you don’t become a sage, you can become a wise man.”

The white-clad youth put his hands on his hips and laughed, “My teacher also heard these free lessons from the old folks in his hometown.”

The scholar said, “If you’re finished, then I’m afraid I must ask you to leave.”

Cui Dongshan waved his hand, “Not yet, it’s still early. Speaking of merit, I only consider the deeds, not the intentions. If you consider the intentions, no one has been perfect throughout the ages.”

“Like buying meat from a butcher, on the scales, sufficient weight, honest dealing, one collects the money, one buys the meat.”

“Only when discussing scholars doing scholarship is it necessary to consider both actions and intentions.”

The scholar, listening to the strange words of the strange outsider, finally couldn’t help but ask, “Who are you, to have the right to discuss merit and reward here?”

Cui Dongshan blinked, “He has been here, and you have seen him, right?”

The scholar asked with a smile, “Nonsense, incoherent, what exactly are you talking about?”

Cui Dongshan waved his sleeves and complained, “We are all scholars, you can eat whatever you want, but you can’t say whatever you want. I warn you not to speak carelessly. I have a bad temper. Be careful that your words become a prophecy, truly making you nonsensical.”

The scholar smiled and said, “No matter what deity you are, why don’t you be frank? Tell me, what do you want from me?”

Because of his great Dao foundation, although his fighting skills are completely negligible, he is not afraid of being entangled by a Great cultivator. If he can’t beat them, he’ll run.

Especially in this era, Tongye Continent has returned to the hands of the Confucian Temple.

He doesn’t believe that a mountain peak Great cultivator would dare to act recklessly in the capital area of the current Yunyan Kingdom.

The youth pulled out a jade bamboo folding fan from his sleeve, twirled it with two fingers, and with a snap, opened it, the fan surface written with four large characters: “Convince with Virtue.”

“Today, I am taking the liberty of visiting to make a small request, to discuss something with you.”

“Please speak, fellow Daoist.”

“Follow me in the future, and I guarantee that with your great Dao foundation, you will live a life of luxury.”

“What if I refuse?”

The youth turned the fan over, also with four large characters: “Beat to Death if You Disobey.”

The scholar was speechless for a moment, silent for a long time, then sneered, “Fellow Daoist is speaking rather boldly.”

Cui Dongshan gently waved the bamboo fan, “When he stood here, did he say anything?”

The scholar asked in return, “Are you a gentleman of morality and integrity from some academy?”

Cui Dongshan’s eyes were resentful, as if extremely wronged, “Why are you cursing me for no reason?”

The scholar narrowed his eyes, “Fellow Daoist is indeed humorous in his speech.”

“You really don’t recognize me?”

“I don’t recognize you, and I don’t want to recognize you.”

“I am Dongshan!”

The scholar was stunned. Dongshan? Cui Dongshan of the Greenplume Sword Sect?

After all, a cultivator who could find his way here must not be an ordinary Qi Refinement cultivator.
Within the capital city of Yunyan Kingdom, the Ancestral Hall, hastily erected on the auspicious day of the Dragon’s Head Raising this year, was specifically established for the purpose of excavating a grand canal. The number of seats within that Ancestral Hall was exceedingly limited, reserved only for the founding entities, such as the Jade Tablet Sect, the enshrined Wang Ji, and a reclusive, yet venerable ancestor whose name was unknown to the outside world.

Of course, there was also the sudden emergence of the Azure Reed Sword Sect, represented by Zhong Qiu, the helmsman of the Fountain Prefecture, and Cao Qinglang, the Peak Master of Jingxing Peak.

For reasons unknown, the chief devotee, the Great Sword Immortal Mi Yu, had surprisingly ceded his seat in the Ancestral Hall to the young Cao Qinglang. It remained a mystery what arrangements the Azure Reed Sword Sect had made.

Was a Great Sword Immortal, hailing from the Sword Qi Great Wall, held in such little regard?

Would Mi Yu, nicknamed “Mi the Waist Snapper,” truly harbor no resentment?

Cui Dongshan closed his folding fan and said with a smile, “If you agree to my invitation, I can in turn grant you a wish as a meeting gift. Trust me, it’s something you’ve yearned for for millennia, and I can guarantee its fulfillment.”

“Oh? Could it be that Sect Master Cui can read minds?”

“Read minds? Nothing of the sort. I simply excel at guessing what people are thinking.”

This scholar of Yunyan Kingdom, manifested from literary fortune, smiled and said, “Tell me more.”

Cui Dongshan said, “In the future, I’ll take you to the Central Earth Literary Shrine to spar on scholarly matters with the Classicist Xi Ping.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely! Without a doubt!”

Cui Dongshan thumped his chest, causing a resounding echo. “My teacher and that Classicist Xi Ping are kindred spirits who lament that they didn’t meet sooner! True friends!”

The scholar pondered for a moment before saying, “Allow me to consider it.”

Cui Dongshan nodded. “That’s only right.”

The scholar suddenly asked, “Are you not afraid that I might be colluding with him?”

Cui Dongshan sighed. “You overestimate your significance. I only asked because I was curious if he stood here back then, shedding silent tears, weeping copiously.”

Cui Dongshan quickly defended himself. “Don’t be angry. I’m just straightforward. A sharp tongue but a soft heart, you know? Don’t believe me?”

The white-clad youth exhaled, releasing a pungent aroma of stinky tofu.

The scholar was speechless.

Cui Dongshan lightly tapped his shoulder with the fan and smiled.

Zhou Mi, a sea of literature in the Barren Lands, lamented the lack of kindred spirits in the mortal realm.

It was said, only said, that many years ago, Jia Sheng, a scholar from the Boundless Land who had left his hometown, stood on Upside-Down Mountain, gazing north towards his homeland for a long, long time.

Cui Dongshan suddenly raised a hand to his mouth. “Since we’re all one family now, I must confide in you. Some miscreant has stolen your printing blocks! How hateful! Should we go give him a beating?!”

Yuxuan Kingdom, Capital City, Yongjia County.

In an alleyway, a Daoist priest suddenly stopped, looking towards a small courtyard, and softly exclaimed in surprise.

Within the courtyard, a gaunt young man, taking advantage of the moonlight, was weaving a winnowing basket. His ears twitched, initially startled, but when he turned his head towards the alleyway, looking over the low wall, he saw a familiar face. The dark-skinned young man’s face was filled with surprise and disbelief, as he muttered, “Daoist Wu?”

The Daoist priest stroked his beard and smiled. “We meet again. Purely coincidental.”

The young man hastily put down the half-woven winnowing basket and went to the low wall, eagerly asking, “Daoist Wu, what brings you here?”

In the middle of the night, at this late hour, Daoist Wu couldn’t possibly be here to admire the moon, right?

The Daoist priest looked around and said in a low voice, “Recently, there has been a demon causing trouble in the capital. Its cultivation is not shallow, it acts with impunity, and it excels at hiding and escaping. Tonight, I was tracking its footprints to this place, but I didn’t expect it to escape again. It dares to be so ostentatious and defy the law in the heart of the country, under the very nose of the Son of Heaven. I naturally cannot tolerate it. Ordinary cultivators with a little knowledge of magic are powerless to deal with it. Heh, but since it encountered me, it can blame its ill luck for this trip down the mountain.”

The young man was bewildered.

Seeing this, the Daoist priest switched to a more common and understandable vernacular. “There’s a demon that has become a spirit and is harming people. I’m going to catch it and uphold justice on behalf of Heaven.”

The young man’s eyes instantly lit up. Indeed, indeed! He had guessed correctly. This Daoist Wu, who looked so otherworldly, was not just capable of fortune-telling and earning money. He was truly the kind of immortal who could subdue demons and exorcise evil!

The mud wall wasn’t high, and they were talking to each other across the wall.

The young man in the courtyard was short and thin, while the Daoist priest in the alley was tall and slender, a head taller.

The young man was worried and lowered his voice to ask, “Daoist Wu, now that the demon has fled far away, will it harm people?”

“Now that I have revealed myself and exchanged blows with it, it knows how formidable I am. It certainly wouldn’t dare to show its face in the capital tonight. It will only find a place to hide obediently.”

The Daoist priest said with a carefree smile, “Moreover, it has only temporarily escaped my sight. I have a few unique immortal techniques to ensure that I capture it before dawn. It’s a sure thing. This is what they call escaping the first day, but not escaping the fifteenth.”

The young man secretly rubbed his hemp clothing behind his back, mustered his courage, and shyly asked, “Daoist Wu, would you like to come inside and sit down?”

The Daoist priest hummed in agreement. “Very well, I’ll mooch some water from you. No need to boil it. If you have a water vat, just scoop a ladle of well water from it.”

The young man opened the courtyard gate and led the Daoist priest into the courtyard, first letting Daoist Wu sit on the wooden stool. He then went to the kitchen to scoop water from the water vat. The Daoist priest was indeed unceremonious and did not sit on the stool, but instead sat directly on the steps, softly reminding the young man to just grab the gourd ladle, no need to take a bowl. When the young man came running over, the Daoist priest took the old gourd ladle, tilted his head back, and drank. After wiping his mouth and returning the gourd ladle, the Daoist priest exhaled deeply and smiled. “Thank you. A ladle of water is all I needed.”

After the young man put the gourd ladle back in the kitchen and returned, the Daoist priest smiled and said, “By the way, I haven’t asked your name yet.”

The young man didn’t sit on the stool either, but instead sat on the steps like Daoist Wu, turning sideways and respectfully answering, “Daoist Wu, my name is Bai Yun.”

The Daoist priest nodded. “Bai Yun? A very memorable name indeed.”

In the chapter on Heaven and Earth in Lu Chen’s writings, there was a saying, “A thousand-year-old, weary of the world, ascends as an immortal, riding upon white clouds to the imperial homeland.” Could this be a case of life imitating art?

The young man hesitated for a moment, then said in a low voice, “I wouldn’t dare to deceive you, Daoist. Bai Yun is just my current name. My original surname was Ning, and my name was Ning Ji.”

The Daoist priest was visibly surprised and said with a smile, “Surname Ning? A good surname.”
After a moment of silence, the Daoist priest exclaimed, “If the heavens are in disarray, and the wind and fog are inconsistent, only through cultivating virtue and examining oneself can one attain tranquility and auspiciousness. Ningji, a fine name. Besides the beautiful meaning of the words themselves, whoever gave you this name must have held great expectations for you.”

The young man was stunned for a moment, then straightened his face and lowered his head. But soon, he looked up and smiled at the learned Daoist Wu.

In the depths of this young man named Ningji’s eyes, there was both a sense of self-pitying sadness and a hidden gratitude.

Chen Pingan patted the young man’s shoulder and laughed, “But I think, the name might not have come with such high-flown expectations. It might just be the literal meaning, nothing more. Just hoping you would be free from illness and disaster, safe and sound.”

Having been young once himself, seeing certain youths reminded him of himself.

Ningji, who had been barely managing to maintain a composed expression, instantly teared up upon hearing these words. He lowered his head and nodded vigorously.

The young man’s sorrow and affection mingled with the moonlight, flowing like water across the ground.

Night mist veiled the scene, and in the hazy distance, the silhouette of a Mountain Lord emerged. Its eyes, the size of fists, glowed with an eerie light, captivating and intimidating.

This Mountain Lord walked silently, its frame immense, its teeth taller than a man, as large as an ox.

Generally, mountains are filled with snakes, but the patrolmen of this temple had never seen tigers or large serpents.

Fortunately, the temple’s patrolmen did not witness this scene. The mountain monks were all ordinary mortals without any cultivation in immortal arts; otherwise, they would have been scared out of their wits.

Yuan Huajing, carrying a cotton bag, said to the Mountain Lord, “You may return for now. I will speak with Mountain Lord Chen about the matter, but whether it succeeds or not ultimately depends on your own fate.”

Famous mountains with great temples often have tales of fish and dragons listening to the chanting of sutras.

The Mountain Lord lowered its head to the ground in acknowledgment and turned to leave.

Yuan Huajing used the small temple on the mountain as a place for leisure and avoiding the summer heat. He had known this Mountain Lord, who had been unable to attain human form, for many years.

For hundreds of years, the monks in the mountain had never seen it, leaving behind only an ancient mountain chronicle—a tale of a mountain spirit protecting virtuous monks, roaring as a warning when the monks’ minds were unsettled.

Yuan Huajing looked towards the entrance of the mountain gate. With a single step, his figure vanished like dispersing clouds and reappeared inside the temple, in a quiet guest room, where a lamp was still lit.

The young Hidden Official, appearing as an elderly scholar with white hair at his temples, held a Daoist scroll. He opened the door and smiled, “How did Sword Immortal Yuan come down the mountain?”

In truth, the two had chatted quite a bit during the day in the pavilion near the Gathering Immortals Cliff.

Yuan Huajing extended his hand, handing the bag to Chen Pingan. “This is a local product, three jin of Huangjing (Polygonatum sibiricum), a small token of my appreciation.”

“A good thing. I’ve always wanted to go up the mountain to dig some, but kept delaying it until now.”

Chen Pingan accepted the bag from Yuan Huajing without hesitation, lifted it, and weighed it. “Including the bag, it’s two jin and nine liang.”

Huangjing can replenish qi, calm the five viscera, and, with long-term consumption, lighten the body and prolong life. Therefore, in medical books, it is also known as “Wuji Zhi,” named for obtaining the essence of the Kun earth. Among the cultivators on the mountain, it is also called “Immortal’s Surplus Grain” and has always been a common medicinal diet for registered immortal masters. However, the medicinal properties of Huangjing vary greatly from place to place. Chen Pingan was actually no stranger to it. It grew on the mountains in his hometown and was not considered a rare item, so he was more accustomed to calling it “Rice Paste” and viewed it as a poor man’s sustenance.

Yuan Huajing went straight to the point: “I wouldn’t visit the Three Treasures Hall without a reason. I’ve come down the mountain late at night to ask for a favor.”

Chen Pingan raised the bag of Huangjing in his hand and laughed, “He who takes from others is short-handed. Speak freely, I will help if I can.”

Yuan Huajing said, “There is a tiger in the mountain, who has been enlightened for hundreds of years, but has been unable to successfully transform into a human. These few jin of Huangjing were dug up by it, and I am just helping to deliver them.”

Chen Pingan pondered for a moment and smiled, “This kind of mountain spirit, a creature of divine origins, is trapped in a physical form, becoming a strange anomaly. No wonder it is anxious, resorting to desperate measures.”

Yuan Huajing patiently awaited the answer.

Chen Pingan raised the Daoist book in his hand, which could also be said to be an abridged compendium of herbal medicine. Since ancient times, Daoism and medicine have been inseparable.

“Since fate has brought us together.”

“I will help with this matter.”

Yuan Huajing nodded and was about to turn and leave.

Chen Pingan smiled and said, “Since you’re already here, there’s no need to rush. We have nothing to do anyway, so let’s chat a little longer.”

Without further ado, he led Yuan Huajing across the threshold. Chen Pingan placed the book on the table and brought a chair for Yuan Huajing. Yuan Huajing looked at the extremely simple room, which was similar to his own dwelling.

Chen Pingan laughed, “That Zhou Haijing, who is filling in the Earthly Branches, must have caused you quite a headache, right?”

Yuan Huajing did indeed have a headache when he thought of this female grandmaster. However, strangely, with Zhou Haijing joining the Earthly Branches, the two mountains, which were originally distant, now seemed to have a sense of shared hatred for a common enemy.

Chen Pingan casually asked, “If I remember correctly, you seem to have served as a Proofreader in the Great Li Secretariat?”

Yuan Huajing said indifferently, “It was just a family arrangement. Poetry is a minor path, and writing on paper is a frivolous matter, unable to help people’s hearts or customs. A man of strength would not do it.”

Chen Pingan clicked his tongue. “Listen to that, that’s a bit of an offensive statement. You’re talking without knowing the troubles. You have the nerve to shout that out loud.”

Yuan Huajing smiled and dismissed it.

He suddenly remembered that the young Hidden Official before him, as the closed-door disciple of the Literary Saint, didn’t seem to even be a Gongshi (tribute student) or Xiucai (cultivated talent)?

Chen Pingan asked, “How did you first think of coming here to seek peace and quiet?”

Yuan Huajing gave a vague answer with a hint of self-deprecation, “By some stroke of fate.”

Then Yuan Huajing asked in return, “Are you seeking something here?”

Chen Pingan asked in confusion, “Why do you ask that?”

Yuan Huajing glanced at this seemingly sincere fellow, muttering inwardly, “Why ask the obvious? You, the young Mountain Lord of the Declining Mountain, are a man who won’t let go until you see the hare. You won’t get up early unless there’s a profit to be made.”

Chen Pingan laughed, “Could it be that Sword Immortal Yuan feels that what I am seeking clashes with your purpose here? You can’t beat me in a fight, so you had to come down the mountain late at night, both to help that fellow Daoist in the mountain seek a way to attain human form, and also to come here and find out the truth. If the answer is affirmative, then you’ll have to give up this idea. If not, then Sword Immortal Yuan still has a chance.”
Yuan Huajing nodded, generously admitting, “Indeed, I harbor such intentions.”

Chen Ping’an said, “If I were to say I came here seeking nothing, you surely wouldn’t believe it. However, regardless of your thoughts, I’ll treat you with sincerity, my heart empty of ulterior motives. What I seek is truly not external to myself.”

For a moment, both fell silent.

Chen Ping’an was the first to speak, curiously asking, “What kind of treasure is it that warrants such attention from Sword Immortal Yuan?”

Noticing the peculiar expression on Chen Ping’an’s face, Yuan Huajing said in annoyance, “Neither as a member of the Yuan clan nor as a sword cultivator, do I have reason to take something unannounced or seize it by force.”

Chen Ping’an nodded, Yuan Huajing possessed this much self-respect and arrogance.

Yuan Huajing suddenly asked, “Have you met that chicken-soup monk, the venerable Shenqing?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “I saw this Dragon Elephant of Buddhism from afar when I attended the Literary Temple meeting, but we didn’t speak.”

“Then have you heard of the three Dharma protections of this Dragon Elephant of Buddhism?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. This was truly the first time he had heard of such secrets. Seeing Yuan Huajing’s suspicious expression, he could only smile and explain, “Believe it or not, I do know quite a bit about Buddhist stories, but I truly don’t delve too much into these mountain secrets.”

Yuan Huajing was dubious but related the three Dharma protections in general. The monk Shenqing’s first Dharma protection was the White Horse carrying the Sutras, the eastward transmission of the Buddha’s teachings.

The second time was in the Azure Billow World, during a far-reaching debate between Buddhism and Daoism. Many Daoist disciples failed in their arguments, and as agreed, they shaved their heads on the spot, changed their allegiance, and entered Buddhism.

The third Dharma protection was at the Broken Head Mountain’s Eastern Mountain Temple, which “did not discriminate on background and opened the Dharma gate wide,” secretly escorting a young monk down the mountain to a ferry crossing.

Chen Ping’an nodded slightly upon hearing this.

Yuan Huajing asked, “Since you are proficient in metal and stone seal carving, you must know that there is a vermillion-colored seal impression in the world, but without any text.”

Chen Ping’an said solemnly, “Of course, it’s a stone used for pounding rice that once weighed down the waist of that Chan Buddhist patriarch. Back then, when he went up the mountain to seek the Dharma from the Fifth Patriarch, he first entered the monastery to work as a rice-pounding laborer. Because he was weak, the Sixth Patriarch used the stone to assist him.”

Yuan Huajing didn’t hide anything and directly revealed the truth. “This seal impression is within this temple.”

This matter was extremely secret. The Dali officialdom had no records of it, but the State Preceptor Cui mentioned it casually. The speaker was unintentional, but the listener was mindful. Yuan Huajing wanted to come here and try his luck.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Does it have something to do with that concealed natal flying sword of yours?”

Yuan Huajing appeared extremely frank. “It’s not ‘something to do with,’ but rather the very crux of the matter.”

Chen Ping’an was slightly surprised, but since it concerned Yuan Huajing’s fundamental path of cultivation, he didn’t pursue the matter.

He was neither friend nor foe with this direct descendant of the Yuan clan, a Pillar of the State. Although they had chatted a bit more today and their relationship had eased somewhat, their friendship had not reached that level after all.

Yuan Huajing was silent for a long time, then suddenly said, “I seem to possess two natal flying swords, but one of them is actually an imitation sword, and it was made by the State Preceptor Cui.”

Chen Ping’an fell into thought.

Yuan Huajing asked, “I have a question for you. You can answer or not as you please. Do you know the path to the fourteenth realm that the Dragon-Slaying One walked? Can you tell me?”

Just because of the existence of that sword cultivator, for three thousand years, all the descendants of dragons, water spirits, and fairies, all those who had hoped to achieve the Great Dao of the True Dragon, actually dared not “cross the thunder pool by half a step.” Like that ten-thousand-year-old old dragon in the Huangting Kingdom, how long had its Dao age been? Yet it had always dared not walk through water?

Wasn’t it afraid of that one sword slashing across the sky, passing through Dongting Lake again?

Chen Ping’an came back to his senses and shook his head. “It’s too taboo. It’s not appropriate for me to reveal such heavenly secrets to you.”

Yuan Huajing nodded.

Chen Ping’an said, “That imitation sword, it imitates the natal flying sword of my senior brother Zuo You, correct?”

Yuan Huajing smiled. “Guess.”

Damn it, it’s really comfortable to learn how to speak cryptically like this young Hidden Official.

Chen Ping’an didn’t take it to heart and smiled. “Sword Immortal Yuan has only learned a little bit of the surface. What’s there to be happy about? The task is heavy and the road is long. Continue your efforts.”

Outside the house was quiet, cypress trees in front of the courtyard.