In a secluded village school, nestled among mountains and streams, the water babbled over the stones, and lush clusters of sweet flag grew by the water’s edge.

Chen Ping’an, in his true form, lay on a rattan chair, a palm-leaf fan in hand, his eyes closed in repose.

“The Dao emerges when the daytime clouds dissipate, spring flows long with the green night stream.”

Zhao Shuxia ceased his stance training and sat on a bamboo chair beneath the eaves.

He glanced at his master, reclining and fanning himself, and inexplicably recalled a phrase from Mister Zhu: “Lifespans vary, not solely dictated by Heaven; self-cultivation and nurturing nature can prolong one’s years.”

Chen Ping’an, still with closed eyes, spoke, “If you want to laugh, then laugh. No need to suppress it. But let’s get one thing straight: don’t spread today’s events to Fallen Peak, especially don’t let Little Rice hear about it.”

Zhao Shuxia nodded, his face full of smiles, but he ultimately refrained from laughter, saving his master some face.

He found it increasingly amusing, as this sort of thing happening to his master was too rich. Even with his honest and simple nature, Zhao Shuxia couldn’t help but want to chuckle.

Earlier in the day, the mother of a young pupil from the school, a woman of obviously shrewish temperament, had arrived, standing at the entrance and raising her voice, demanding that her child return home and cease studying there.

When his master inquired as to the reason, the woman simply ignored him, only calling out her child’s pet name, the young student standing up timidly, seemingly embarrassed and aggrieved.

The woman grabbed the child’s arm and even demanded that his master immediately refund the tuition fee – which, in truth, was less than the “market price” and significantly lower than that of the neighboring village.

His master hadn’t grown angry, nor had he argued with the woman; he merely wanted to say a few words to the child.

This had enraged the woman, who began to shove and push. His master simply raised a hand to block her, and the woman began to act out, directly striking at his master’s face.

Recalling the day’s events, Chen Ping’an couldn’t help but grin. “This is probably what the books mean by ‘scholarship swept into the dust’.”

Zhao Shuxia curiously inquired, “Master, is it truly the case that ten strips of cured meat as tuition is a custom personally decreed by the Sage Confucius?”

The implication, of course, was: Did even the Sage require payment for teaching?

Chen Ping’an smiled and nodded. “Absolutely true.”

Zhao Shuxia hesitated, but still couldn’t resist asking, “Master, why did you let that woman take the child away?”

Chen Ping’an opened his eyes, thought for a moment, and said helplessly, “Since I couldn’t stop her, what could I do? We couldn’t exactly start scratching each other, could we? This isn’t a martial arts contest where whoever wins the fight gets to make the rules.”

Zhao Shuxia laughed uncontrollably.

In the end, that child became the first pupil to withdraw from the village school.

Since the school had only opened a few days ago, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it an inauspicious start.

He’d heard that a gossipy busybody had recently been throwing mud at the school and his master, spreading rumors and saying all sorts of malicious things.

Although Chen Ping’an here had deliberately suppressed all his cultivation, divine abilities, and aura, becoming indistinguishable from ordinary mortals – so Zhao Shuxia’s earlier greetings had indeed gone unheard, and the female cultivator Yu Huiting from the Snowy Temple had mistakenly believed that Chen Ping’an was feigning sleep on the rattan chair, deliberately ignoring her; it was truly a misunderstanding of Chen the Hidden Official – even so, Chen Ping’an, with a mere glare at the time, could probably have intimidated that unreasonable village woman.

As amusing as it was, and as funny as it seemed, Zhao Shuxia still sighed, feeling indignant on his master’s behalf. What a blessing it was to follow his master in pursuit of knowledge! He’d heard that many Confucian academies and schools now hoped his master would come and lecture, but his master had politely declined.

Chen Ping’an gently swayed his palm-leaf fan and chuckled to himself. “I remember the first time I met Wei Xian was in a town called Fox Cub Town, near the border of Great Spring. In the inn, our founding emperor of the Southern Garden Kingdom, with his keen eye, upon meeting me, I recall Wei Hailiang’s second sentence being a straightforward, ‘Master, you possess an immense domineering aura.’ Heh, what do you think? Besides his good drinking capacity, Wei Xian’s ability to judge people is unmatched. Even Lu Baixiang and Sui Youbian are far inferior to Wei Xian.”

Zhao Shuxia, after all, was neither Senior Sister Pei Qian nor Junior Brother Cui Dongshan, and couldn’t follow that line of thought.

There was a moment of awkward silence. Then, Chen Ping’an paused slightly before uttering two seemingly unrelated sentences.

“To accept what cannot be helped and be content with fate.”

“Clear moon and gentle breeze, ultimately scattered.”

Zhao Shuxia didn’t understand, but he sensed that his master tonight seemed a bit… relieved, especially relaxed?

Chen Ping’an said softly with a smile, “You can deliver that letter to Fallen Peak. Remember to choose a secluded scenic route, practice your stance training along the way, and carefully experience the unique nature of a fifth-realm martial artist’s physique. Once you arrive at Fallen Peak, don’t rush back. Let Old Cook help you with fist training, and do it on the second floor of the bamboo building. Recover from your injuries first. If you find the fist training enjoyable, you can take a few more beatings. It would be best to secretly learn some stance techniques from Zhu Lian. That guy likes to keep things hidden; I suspect he has a lot of secret moves that he hasn’t had a chance to show. Since you’re also a swordsman, and Zhu Lian also knows swordsmanship, you can shamelessly ask him to display a few techniques on the second floor. If you can happen to reach the sixth realm while you’re there, that would be great too. Don’t worry about my food, clothing, shelter, and transportation here. Instead of worrying about that, you should worry about being so old and still being a bachelor.”

Zhao Shuxia had recently advanced from the fourth to the fifth realm of martial arts here at the school. Because both were within the scope of body refinement, the difficulty of breaking through was less than that of the third to fourth realm or the sixth to seventh realm.

Just now, the Daoist Wu Di had been in the Yongjia County alley courtyard, asking Lu Chen about verifying a matter: How did Zhu Lian’s swordsmanship compare to Sui Youbian’s?

Lu Chen, with a playful smile, had answered with just two words: “Not low.”

As for whether it was “not low” as in only not lower than Sui Youbian, or whether in the eyes of Headmaster Lu, Zhu Lian’s swordsmanship deserved the rating of “not low,” Lu Chen had been unwilling to elaborate at the time.

It should be known that Lu Chen had once written the Sword-Speaking Chapters. In addition, within White Jade Capital’s Jade Pivot City, he had borrowed a plot of land from the city lord Guo Xie and Shao Xiang, and built a private study, which he named “Thousand-Sword Gazing Abode.”

Those two city lords, both chief and deputy, were among the top Daoist sword immortals of White Jade Capital’s Daoist officials.

And Zhu Lian had once let slip that the first time he had traveled the world, it was with a sword in hand. If you were to say Zhu Lian didn’t know swordsmanship, Chen Ping’an would never believe it, even if you beat him to death.
Within the Lotus Bloom Blessed Land painting, only Zhu Lian seems to have refrained from accepting a direct disciple even now. Mind you, Zhu Lian is already a martial artist at the Pinnacle realm. Setting aside Sui Youbian, who switched to cultivating Taoism to become a female sword immortal early on, Wei Xian and Lu Baixiang, who contributed more to the martial arts body refinement path, are now only at the Far Roaming realm. The same goes for their fellow townsman, Zhong Qiu. Only Zhu Lian, after all these years on Mount Luopo, seems more interested in managing mundane affairs as a steward, handling countless matters for the young mountain master daily, while neglecting martial arts. Chen Ping’an doesn’t understand what he’s thinking, which led to their agreed-upon martial exchange in the capital of the Nanyuan Kingdom. They chose a snowy day, both sides holding nothing back, engaging in a hearty exchange to determine who was superior.

“In terms of ‘martial learning’ years, you are older than I, Chen Ping’an, by sixty years. I am a realm higher than you, Zhu Lian, in martial arts. This is a contest of skill. Whoever is defeated should not blame fate.”

Zhao Shuxia nodded in agreement.

Indeed, in the thirty years after his first departure from home, his master spent almost all his time traveling afar, leaving Zhao Shuxia unable to care for his master’s daily life.

Zhao Shuxia remembered Zhu Lian once saying, “When we cannot be responsible for ourselves, it is difficult to be qualified to be responsible for others.”

As for the impromptu errand of sending a letter, it turned out that Chen Ping’an had just written one during the day. He originally intended to have Chen Lingjun bring it back to Mount Luopo next time he came to visit, to be sent to the Azure Spire Sword Sect, addressed to Cao Qinglang.

In the letter, Chen Ping’an suggested that this pleasing and capable student take some time from his busy work of excavating the Great Canal to attend lectures at Tianmu Academy, given by Vice Headmaster Wen Yu.

Chen Ping’an has always been candid with Zhao Shuxia about these matters, as well as certain private thoughts.

Zhao Shuxia curiously asked, “Master, do you seem to highly respect Headmaster Wen of Tianmu Academy?”

Chen Ping’an pondered for a moment, carefully choosing his words, and slowly said, “How should I put it? Wen Yu is very close to the ideal image of a scholar… in my mind. He is both dignified and possesses a natural scholarly spirit of ‘if not me, then who?’, with unmatched sharpness, while also being pragmatic, ambitious, meticulous, and consistently compassionate towards the weak. Therefore, in my view, Wen Yu deserves the praise of being a ‘pure and refined Confucian scholar’.”

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “Just as my teacher said, ‘Resolving to embody, one is a gentleman.’ Wen Yu is such an upright gentleman.”

Perhaps infected by the atmosphere brought about by his master’s change in mood, Zhao Shuxia playfully asked, “How does Headmaster Wen compare to Master Liu of the Taiwei Sword Sect?”

Chen Ping’an chuckled, gently fanning himself with a palm-leaf fan, relaxed and comfortable, squinting and smiling, “They are not quite the same. I am more at ease with Liu the Wine Immortal, but I am relatively more reserved with Headmaster Wen.”

Zhao Shuxia was somewhat shocked. His master had seen countless trials and tribulations, yet he would feel reserved when interacting with others?

Although Zhao Shuxia doesn’t belong to any particular peak on Mount Luopo, the atmosphere of Mount Luopo is such that everyone is relatively uninhibited in speech, and much information is shared, as if no one is an outsider. Therefore, he is well aware that whenever his master travels far and returns to Mount Luopo, he seems to bring back a large basket of stories. Upon returning home, regardless of the grand and magnificent events he has experienced, whether he was directly involved or merely an observer, he rarely mentions someone repeatedly like this. Since his master started teaching here, he has mentioned Wen Yu many times to him, Zhao Shuxia.

Chen Ping’an first met Wen Yu on their own Wind Kite ferry. Although it was their first meeting and they didn’t talk much, Chen Ping’an didn’t hide his admiration for this scholar-gentleman from Zhao Shuxia.

For example, Wen Yu has a concept, preparing to use a certain mountain sect as an example. The primary condition is that the number of ancestors in the Ancestral Hall must be an odd number. And before that, there will be an even smaller-scale internal discussion to determine whether certain important decisions need to be put on the agenda. The personnel are also an odd number, to ensure that there will not be a situation where the number of people holding positive and negative opinions is the same. In this way, any resolution placed on the table, whether yes or no, can be quickly passed. Regardless of whether there are two discussion halls vaguely divided into “larger and smaller” or inner and outer, if someone consistently holds dissenting opinions, they can explicitly request that their negative opinion be recorded and filed for future “accounting” and verification. At the same time, set up a role similar to a “historian”, whose duties are similar to daily life records.

Chen Ping’an extended his joined index and middle fingers, gently drawing a circle upwards, “Wen Yu said that the entire world presents a spiraling upward trend, with patterns like ram’s horns, all going upwards. It doesn’t just rely on certain strong individuals to lead the way, but also needs a stable and flexible system. He believes that the good or bad of the world should not always depend on the decisions of a small group of people. There needs to be a way for more people to be responsible for themselves. In the meantime, we can correct mistakes at any time, not afraid of making mistakes, but afraid of procrastination, using the superficial faultlessness of inaction to cover up negligence. We must make every mistake and correction a small step for the world to rise, and over time, it will become a road that everyone can walk.” In this way, it is as if the academy first provides a verifiable draft and model for the secular world, and then the more common resolutions are passed, the more cases that can be read from beginning to end, the more problems are discovered, and the more corrections are made, like proofreading. The bottom line becomes more and more refined, and ultimately the world becomes stable. But in this process, it will definitely…”

Chen Ping’an sighed softly, “It takes ten years to grow trees, but a hundred years to nurture people. The task is arduous and the road is long.”

Zhao Shuxia blushed and said, “Master, won’t telling me these things be like casting pearls before swine?”

Chen Ping’an asked with a smile, “Do you find it annoying?”

Zhao Shuxia shook his head and said, “Of course not.”

Chen Ping’an nodded and said, “When we know more and more ‘whys’, it will give us more patience and peace of mind. A person who can be calm is someone who has cultivated their heart well. In the future, when encountering things, it will be less likely to say angry words or harsh words to others.”

The learning of the Three Religions and Hundred Schools seems to be focused on the word “heart”, putting in effort, even risking death.

Zhao Shuxia deeply understood this.
In the Bamboo Lodge of Fallen Peak, the first floor served as both residence and study. Chen Ping’an, in his azure robe, a shard of his soul manifested, burned the midnight oil, repeatedly poring over a booklet. Its contents were a compilation of his recent leisurely conversation with Wen Yu. On the desk lay eight other booklets, varying in thickness, filled with diverse content—geographical chronicles resembling landscape travelogues, excerpts and reflections on Buddhist precepts and Daoist scriptures, chronicles of personnel and events in Jade Mountain. Each was meticulously compiled.

If the nine wisps of spirit, manifesting as talisman-imbued doppelgangers, were seen as collaboratively writing a grand tome, then Chen Ping’an, rooted at Fallen Peak, was akin to the chief editor or compiler.

This Chen Ping’an stepped out of the lodge, hung a sword talisman, and rode the wind towards Locust Yellow County.

As per the Confucian Temple’s resolution from the last meeting, future Ministers of Rites in each nation would be graduates of the Seventy-Two Academies. In Wen Yu’s view, scholars entering officialdom should possess not only solid personal cultivation and learning but also mastery of law and arithmetic, along with practical skills for governing and aiding the people. They needed to be sincere and upright, constantly enriching their knowledge, and also be adept at resolving or, at least, understanding the operational principles of concrete matters like finances and litigation. Wen Yu and Chen Ping’an cited an example: if officials from the Ministry of Rites and the Ministry of Revenue quarreled in court, one couldn’t simply speak of etiquette and morality while the other only spoke of their coffers. That would be utter nonsense.

Since the academy’s students were the undisputed cream of the crop in each nation, the academy had to shoulder the responsibility of nurturing these seedlings. The academy needed to focus on researching over a dozen topics, broadly soliciting opinions, and encouraging Confucian scholars to widely participate in policy discussions. For instance, what truly constituted a king governing without personally managing everything? The academy would strive to make these unresolved or vaguely answered issues fully understood by academy scholars from the moment they entered, instead of having them simply burying themselves in their own books and studies. A nation’s ancestral laws, even the Confucian Temple’s rites, whether they were immutable or could be revised, whether they had the potential for improvement, and how to improve them, would all be thoroughly dissected during their studies, ensuring everyone had a clear understanding. Even if they still held differing opinions, they would temporarily seek common ground while reserving differences, leaving it to the scholars to later use the specific people and events they encountered in their families and courts after leaving the academy to substantiate or overturn their earliest viewpoints… Any argument had to have a series of rigorous and meticulous reasoning processes; any viewpoint had to have sufficient rationale as support. Wen Yu said that scholars of the world should present arguments like writing a book: the thesis was merely the title and preface, the evidence was the table of contents, the main chapters, progressing step by step, with each link able to withstand scrutiny.

To establish the aspiration in one’s heart was sentimental, romantic, and could be lofty and boundless. To do the work at hand was rational, needing order and clear coherence.

Furthermore, Wen Yu said he planned to have the academy lead and cooperate with the courts of various nations to compile a common pharmacopeia in an official capacity, and also to elevate the status of medical scholars among the Hundred Schools of Thought.

He also wanted to compile the famous reforms in Vastness’s history, regardless of success or failure, along with contemporary and later evaluations and differing opinions, into a compendium for later scholars to reference.

This coincided with many of Chen Ping’an’s views.

Moreover, Wen Yu clearly thought more deeply and planned more thoroughly than Chen Ping’an.

This was likely the so-called instant rapport and becoming kindred spirits in a moment.

Wen Yu, besides being a righteous Confucian gentleman serving as a deputy headmaster, was actually a genuine swordsman.

Just like the registered cultivators of Azure Vault, at their core, they were all Daoists.

But that didn’t prevent them from having their own cultivation paths and possessing other additional identities. For example, the Xuan Du Temple was a lineage of Daoist Sword Immortals, and the Huayang Palace of Earth Lung Mountain also had a branch of swordsmen.

Wen Yu had previously joked with his friend Wang Zai, who had visited his study, that if he went to the Great Wall of Sword Qi, he could definitely enter the Summer Palace.

This was not Wen Yu deliberately belittling his friend to elevate himself.

This Chen Ping’an quietly arrived at the main street of the small town, at the brightly lit and bustling tavern run by Aunt Feng, even at this late hour.

He walked towards Mud Bottle Lane, paused at the entrance for a moment, and then slowly walked into the lane, reaching the door next to the ancestral home. Facing the seemingly abandoned house since he could remember, he glanced towards a certain spot in the lane on his left. Chen Ping’an squatted down, his hands in his sleeves, as if a young child was rolling on the ground. Then he glanced to his right, at the muddy ground outside his ancestral home, where a rouge box was buried beneath.

Like the question that “Daoist Wu Di” and Lu Chen had asked, were the affairs of the world, in all their complexity, caused by human actions or predetermined by fate?

If everything was predetermined by fate, then it was an immutable destiny. But if not, then life’s journey was inevitably full of coincidences, and gain or loss was up to oneself.

Judging from Lu Chen’s tone, he seemed to believe the latter more often.

Chen Ping’an hesitated, emulating Lu Chen’s previous feat by climbing over the wall. Behind him was the courtyard door. After taking a few steps, he wanted to push open the door of the house in front of him to enter and investigate, hoping to find some clues. But as he reached out, he stopped, thinking about it and decided against it. He supported himself against the wall with one hand and climbed back into his own house. He took out a key, opened the door, sat at the table, and took out a tinderbox from his sleeve to light an oil lamp.

This “Chen Ping’an” was actually the scholar he had once envisioned himself to be. As a youth, he studied and read, and after striving to make a living after leaving the village school, he eventually had his own study as he grew older.

It was probably the kind of life his parents had hoped for him—safe and sound, with no worries about food and clothing, starting a family and establishing a career.

Some simple truths didn’t need to be repeatedly nagged about to a child by his parents. Be kind to others, be polite, and greet elders on the road instead of being a silent mute. Be honest and upright, and do things conscientiously… Because children always clearly saw how their parents and elders behaved. This was probably true upbringing.

At the village school, Zhao Shuxia asked, “Master, why deliberately be… an ordinary person?”

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “Opening a school to teach is to educate people. What need is there for the supernatural arts of the mountain?”

Zhao Shuxia was speechless.

Chen Ping’an sat up and murmured, “Teaching and nurturing people cannot be separated.”

If the day came when the school was just teaching, and the parents and elders sending their children to school, as well as the teachers, all thought the same way, there would be problems.
Chen Ping’an pondered for a moment, then smiled gently, “There’s also a selfish motive. I want to learn a thing or two from Mister Qi.”

Hearing his master’s words, these heartfelt feelings, Zhao Shuxia immediately understood.

It seemed his master had always addressed that junior brother of the Literary Sage lineage as “Mister Qi,” and not “Senior Brother Qi.” It was like this before, it was like this now, and perhaps it would always be this way.

Chen Ping’an suddenly chuckled, “Shuxia, you might soon have a junior brother. Fourteen years old, surname Ning, given name Ji. It’s only a possibility for now, can’t say for sure. Before that happens, Ning Ji still has a process of choosing his master. It’s either Lu Chen or me. He needs to calm down, think it over for a few days, and then decide.”

Zhao Shuxia mistakenly thought he misheard, “Who?”

Chen Ping’an said, “You heard right, it’s Lu Chen.”

Earlier, in Yongjia County, Chen Ping’an had thoroughly explained to the boy the weight behind names like Lu Chen and the White Jade Capital Sect Leader, using many analogies that the boy could understand.

Ning Ji was certainly surprised, but both Lu Chen and Chen Ping’an noticed something: the boy showed no joy whatsoever. Instead, his face turned pale, and he was gripped by a profound, instinctive fear.

When a person harbors deep-seated distrust for the world, it invariably stems from the heart-wrenching hardships experienced throughout their life.

Despite his young age, the boy had already endured much of the world’s coldness and the pain of separation and death. Therefore, the landscape of his heart was a bleak and hazy expanse, almost devoid of color.

Lu Chen had intended to mimic Chen Ping’an and explain things in detail to Ning Ji, such as Chen Ping’an’s identity as the Hidden Official, the Master of the Fallen Mountain, the future National Preceptor of the Great Li Dynasty, the closed-door disciple of the Literary Sage lineage, and his future mistress, Ning Yao…

However, Chen Ping’an stopped Lu Chen, signaling with his eyes not to… cheat.

Originally, Lu Chen had the boy bring a bowl of plain water, using it as a substitute for tea. According to Lu Chen’s plan, as long as Ning Ji nodded in agreement then and there, he would then drink the water.

That would count as Lu Chen drinking the apprenticeship tea, establishing the master-disciple relationship with Ning Ji.

With this trip to the Vast Expanse complete, Lu Chen could naturally return to the Azure Billow Heaven and the White Jade Capital.

The reason Lu Chen had this sudden inspiration, employing an old trick to have Ning Ji switch to Chen Ping’an’s tutelage, was naturally for his own considerations.

Firstly, taking Ning Ji as a direct disciple would involve too much karma. It wasn’t that Lu Chen couldn’t bear it, but he was consistently lazy. With disciples like Cao Rong and He Xiaoliang, Lu Chen was very casual about personally imparting the Dao. He would almost always accept them as disciples, toss them a few spiritual books and secret manuals, teach them a few Daoist techniques, and then wash his hands of it. Furthermore, Ning Ji’s background dictated that the boy was different from all of Lu Chen’s previous direct disciples. Lu Chen would have to keep him by his side until the boy reached the Upper Five Realms, which would be the end of it. For at least several decades, if not a hundred years, he would be completely unable to relax.

Secondly, accepting the boy as a disciple wouldn’t actually bring as much benefit as one might imagine. Lu Chen had already done some rough calculations outside the alley. If the wild, untamed youth, Ning Ji, with no teacher, no guidance, and no fellow travelers on the path, was highly likely to become an extremely young Great Cultivator of the Fourteenth Realm, then having a master, even with Lu Chen personally imparting the Dao, would instead cause Ning Ji’s achievements in the Grand Dao to decline. Whether he would reach the Fourteenth Realm in the future would be questionable.

Therefore, Lu Chen was unwilling to both harm himself by taking on a troublesome burden that required his personal involvement and also mislead the youth, delaying Ning Ji’s cultivation.

In truth, Lu Chen had three candidates in mind who were fully capable of being Ning Ji’s Dao-imparting teacher: his senior brother Kou Ming, the Sage of Rites, and Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City.

However, his senior brother had yet to harmonize with the Dao, the Sage of Rites was incredibly busy with affairs of state, and Zheng Juzhong was, after all, a demonic cultivator of immense power who acted as he pleased. Even if Lu Chen dared to send him over, the Confucian Temple probably wouldn’t agree.

Chen Ping’an was ranked fourth on the list.

In the end, the boy remained silent for a long time before asking Lu Chen a question.

He asked why Sect Leader Lu, with such a noble status, would specifically choose to accept him as a disciple.

Lu Chen was momentarily speechless, feeling aggrieved beyond words.

Was he supposed to tell the truth, be frank with the boy, and say that this child had an improper origin, a fraught destiny, and was born to cause trouble, destined to give the Confucian Temple a headache for many, many years? That someone had to keep an eye on him? And that person had to be of high enough cultivation, patient enough, and possess a pure and proper way of imparting the Dao, conforming to etiquette, in order to slowly guide this “crooked tree” onto the right path and into the righteous cultivation? Otherwise, the boy would, without a doubt, become an extremely young Great Cultivator of the Fourteenth Realm, bringing immense unknown to the Vast Expanse and the Savage Desolate lands?

Lu Chen’s eyes filled with resentment. He raised his chin, pointing towards Chen Ping’an, “Ning Ji, don’t you have anything you want to ask Daoist Wu?”

The boy then asked Chen Ping’an, “Daoist Wu, are you willing to accept me as a disciple?”

Lu Chen almost spat out a mouthful of blood on the spot.

It was like someone asking another person what the weather will be like next year on this day, and then asking someone else if today is sunny with clear skies.

Were the two questions equally difficult? Could this be considered fairness?

Lu Chen was so angry that he almost accepted this disciple on the spot.

In the darkness of the night, a young Daoist priest led a gaunt boy along a country road, heading towards Chen Ping’an’s village school.

He had previously agreed with Chen Ping’an to give Ning Ji a few days to consider. Lu Chen felt it was better to bring the boy to see the real “Daoist Wu Di,” so he brought Ning Ji, using the technique of Earth Shrinking.

In the blink of an eye, Ning Ji had just stepped from the courtyard into the alley when he realized he was walking on a completely unfamiliar mud road. He asked, “Sect Leader Lu, isn’t Daoist Wu a Daoist priest? How did he become a teacher?”

Lu Chen smiled, “Having a desire to teach others is a bad habit that can’t be changed. He always thinks about being a good person while also wanting to make the world a better place, even if it’s just a little bit.”

Ning Ji asked, “Does Sect Leader Lu want to make the world a better place?”

Lu Chen was slightly embarrassed, “I’m a lazy person and don’t particularly care about the ups and downs of the road I walk. A long time ago, I wrote a book. Everything I wanted to say to the world is in that book.”
Ning Ji said, “I once heard an old saying on the road: ‘He who is fated to die in water will not die on land.’ Does it mean that old immortals like Headmaster Lu have seen too much, so they no longer bother to save people? Do you just watch the lives and deaths of ordinary people like us, thinking it’s all self-inflicted, or simply too lazy to care?”

Lu Chen smiled, saying nothing.

As expected of Ning Ji, seemingly a taciturn fellow, but whenever he opens his mouth to ask a question, it’s always so sharp and profound.

Lu Chen noticed the youth’s heavy mood and asked, “What about you? Before meeting Daoist Wu and me, did you have any plans for how to live your life?”

Ning Ji whispered, “To survive, to live well. To repay debts of gratitude and avenge grudges.”

Lu Chen asked, “You’ve only met Daoist Wu twice. Why do you feel such closeness to him? Aren’t you afraid of encountering a villain with ulterior motives?”

The youth was also pondering this question for the first time. He thought carefully for a moment and honestly replied…

The youth hesitated for a moment, then asked softly, “Did Daoist Wu, like Headmaster Lu, come seeking me from the start?”

Ning Ji wasn’t a fool. Since he could attract a White Jade Capital Headmaster to a small alley, there must be an unknown reason.

Lu Chen shook his head, “Unlike me, he didn’t. Meeting you was just a chance encounter, a fleeting connection. Daoist Wu has a similar temperament to you. His appearance in the Jade Xuan Kingdom’s capital, as you said, is about repaying debts of gratitude and avenging grudges.”

The youth’s mood brightened instantly.

Haha, he had guessed correctly again. That Daoist Wu was different from Headmaster Lu.

Lu Chen was exasperated.

Daoist Wu Di, who was just a mere incarnation of Chen Ping’an, was practically flawless in the youth’s eyes. It seemed like everything he did was admirable. It was truly infuriating. He, Lu Chen, had revealed his identity from the moment they met. Where had he been insincere? What happened to genuine human connection?

So Lu Chen asked with a smile, “What if Daoist Wu had the same initial intentions as me? Would you be disappointed after learning the truth?”

Ning Ji thought for a moment and shook his head, “I wouldn’t be disappointed.”

Perhaps, he would even feel it was a stroke of luck to be cherished. Like a pitiful wretch, impoverished for too long, starving until his eyes blurred, suddenly finding a silver ingot on the ground?

Lu Chen rolled his eyes, fetching a pot of wine from the Green Plum Temple of South Pond Lake. Lu Chen took a sip of the green plum wine and his teeth immediately felt sour.

The youth found it curious.

Lu Chen asked, “Would you like to learn this immortal art? It’s easy to master. You can drink for free from now on.”

The youth shook his head, swallowing the words that were about to come out.

Even if you are Lu Chen, the White Jade Capital Headmaster, the one Daoist Wu described as “a person no scholar in the world can ignore,” casually climbing walls is not right, and stealing without paying is even worse.

Lu Chen asked with a smile, “Ning Ji, during your escape, have you never stolen anything?”

Ning Ji honestly replied, “I have stolen, more than once or twice, but only when I was truly unable to survive.”

Lu Chen sighed, “No wonder you and Daoist Wu are so compatible.”

Ning Ji was puzzled, “Daoist Wu also had a difficult background… He stole things?”

Lu Chen answered indirectly, “Often, those who commit mistakes but recognize them have two possibilities. One is to become accustomed to it, too lazy to deceive themselves, simply learning to pave their path with excuses. The other is to build a dam in their heart, preventing floods and extremes. That’s why the Sage Confucius said, ‘If you have faults, do not fear to abandon them.'”

Ning Ji said, “So he also stole?”

Then the youth added, “Daoist Wu must have suffered a lot as a child.”

Lu Chen could only raise his head again and take a huge gulp of green plum wine.

Glancing at the youth beside him, Lu Chen occasionally felt a little regret in recent years. He regretted not knocking Chen Ping’an unconscious and throwing him into White Jade Capital, whether in Nanhua City, or learning from his senior brother to take him as a disciple. Perhaps he wouldn’t have so many worries now.

Sensing the odd look in Headmaster Lu’s eyes, Ning Ji intentionally slowed down his pace, but quickly returned to normal. It was a mysterious and profound intuition.

It’s important to have a wary mind.

Moreover, the youth was indeed carefully observing a “White Jade Capital Headmaster” in his own way.

Lu Chen nodded inwardly. So this is what they called a natural born talent for cultivation.

Lu Chen asked, “Did you ever attend a village school when you were young?”

Ning Ji’s expression darkened, “I only attended a family school for a few days and only learned a few dozen characters.”

Lu Chen asked again, “Since you had a family school, your family must have been well-off. On your first day of school, did you bow to the portrait of the Sage Confucius and kowtow to the schoolteacher?”

Ning Ji shook his head, “I was very young at the time. My uncle temporarily served as the teacher. It wasn’t a formal enrollment, so there were no such customs.”

Village schools in the secular world were generally set up in ancestral halls and did not accept children with different surnames. Private schools and village academies like Chen Ping’an’s, however, did not discriminate based on surnames. They mainly taught children to read and write. Their sessions were longer, starting after the Lantern Festival in the first month and ending in winter. The academic requirements for the teachers were not high, just a basic understanding of literacy. Of course, there were also those teachers who aspired to become officials, who possessed greater knowledge and were more learned. They would study while teaching to obtain official ranks. Many taught in the family schools or academies of wealthy households, and were often famous scholars in the area. There were both long and short term sessions.

Generally, on the first day of enrollment, children from wealthy scholarly families or places with a strong emphasis on education would “invite” the tablet or portrait of the Sage Confucius from the county government’s rites department and the county education commissioner, so that the children would kowtow and bow to the Sage Confucius and the teacher in charge of teaching, thus marking their enrollment.

Lu Chen stretched out his finger and quickly wrote two characters in the air, “Do you recognize them?”

Ning Ji nodded, “Mundane, Immortal.”

Lu Chen smiled, “Person plus grain is the character for mundane. Person in the mountain is immortal. Isn’t it easy to understand? Humans eat grains, while immortals refine Qi in the mountains. That’s the difference, the separation between the mortal and immortal realms.”

Ning Ji silently memorized these words, these explanations.
Lu Chen said, “Let’s make one thing clear beforehand. This isn’t poaching, nor is it bragging. If you acknowledge me as your master, you’ll have more freedom. If you recognize that Daoist Wu as your master, you’ll eventually find that you, or at least a part of you, will need to hide from someone for a very long time.”

Ning Ji asked curiously, “Who?”

Lu Chen smiled, “You’ll have to find the answer for yourself in the future.”

Ning Ji kept it in mind, raised his head and asked, “Are we almost at the academy where Daoist Wu teaches?”

Lu Chen said, “We’re already here.”

The youth stepped forward. In a daze, night transformed into daylight, and the sound of students reading filled the air.

Ning Ji looked around, surprised to find himself outside an academy?

The tutor inside, a scholar in a cyan robe, was a stranger.

However, the youth instantly recognized that this person was Daoist Wu, albeit without his Daoist robes.

Lu Chen smiled, “South and north of the house, all is spring water; willows turn green, most gentle. A good place, scenic and serene, truly a place to cultivate oneself, nourish the spirit, and teach.”

Beside the academy, a stream gurgled. Lu Chen listened intently, nodding, “A famous painting should be read with poetic verses, the sound of reading combined with the sound of water.”

Lu Chen led the bewildered youth into the building, heading straight to the back, explaining with a smile, “Rest assured, Daoist Wu can’t see us. We won’t disturb his lecture either. According to the folks on the summit, this is called entering a place as if there were no one there.”

Ning Ji stood almost glued to the wall, still extremely restrained.

Lu Chen, on the other hand, leaned against the window, looking lazy and relaxed, and chuckled, “Oh right, Daoist Wu’s real name is Chen Ping’an, Chen from ‘ear’ and ‘east’, Ping’an meaning ‘peace and safety’.”

Ning Ji nodded.

This common boy from the marketplace hadn’t yet had the chance to know the uncommonness of this very common name.

Inside the academy, the man in the cyan robe said, “My name is Chen Ji, Chen from ‘ear’ and ‘east’, Ji meaning ‘footprints’. From today onwards, I am your teacher.”

“The first sentence I will teach you has five words, ‘Xue Er Shi Xi Zhi’.”

The teacher paused for a long time on the word “Xue,” before slowly saying, “Let’s temporarily interpret ‘Xue’ as reading.”

Lu Chen leaned on the windowsill, drinking wine. He didn’t know when a celadon wine cup had appeared in his hand. He placed the wine pot aside, held the cup, drank alone, a cup of wine amidst the peach blossoms and spring breeze.