From the humble Mud Bottle Lane in the ancestral home and the town of Huaihuang, Chen Pingan, accompanied by Xiao Mo, journeyed westward on foot towards the highest peak of the great mountains, Mount Bei Yue Pi Yun.

As they reached the base of the mountain, pilgrims thronged, their carriages forming an endless stream. A market town bustling with the trade of mountain goods and herbs had sprung up. The wares were undoubtedly genuine, for what trickery could befall mountain-grown bounty? Yet, fair prices were not to be found. The pilgrims from the lands of Chu, well-versed in the ways of the mountain, passed by this place, seeking only to ascend and offer incense, praying for wealth, love, and peace. Each sought their own path within the mountain’s embrace. But foreign pilgrims, naive and eager, often spent their coins unwisely, for the mountain folk who hawked their wares were silver-tongued. “These lingzhi,” they’d boast, “come from Immortal Herb Mountain, the very one under the sway of the Fallen Mountain! You ask why others fear to tread there, yet I dare pluck its treasures? Ah, good sir, I am kin to Chen Pingan himself, the lord of that mountain! A distant relative, we are, aye, and on New Year’s Eve, that lad would toast me most respectfully. Doubt my words? Then produce the coin for travel, and I shall confront him at his Fallen Mountain, and you shall witness him greet me as ‘Great Uncle’! Deny our kinship? Never!”

Chen Pingan, hands tucked into his sleeves, squatted near one such stall, listening with rapt attention, nodding in amusement. The hawker, seeing such appreciation, turned to Chen Pingan with a toothy grin.

Xiao Mo, clad in a yellow hat and green shoes, expressed his discomfort in his peculiar, miniature way: “Head hurts from all the talk.”

Wei Bo, veiled by enchantments, appeared beside them, a smile playing on his lips. “Do you two find yourselves with naught else to occupy your time?”

Chen Pingan rose, replying in a hushed, mental tone: “Within the ancestral home of Song Jixin, nearby, I discovered a shard of my natal porcelain. Judging by its size, I estimate but one piece remains, though its whereabouts elude me entirely.”

Wei Bo bowed slightly, his smile deepening. “A most heartening discovery.”

Chen Pingan sighed, a hint of weariness in his voice. “Yet, the last remains elusive.”

Wei Bo inquired, “Surely, with but a single shard remaining, you must sense its presence, however faintly?”

Chen Pingan shook his head. “Alas, the curious part is this: once, a faint connection existed, but now, all is lost.”

When he had borrowed the Daoist powers of Lu Chen, that sense had been close. But when the realm of the Fourteenth returned, the subtle tether vanished.

Could the final shard reside within the Azure Heaven?

Yet, Lu Chen would never stoop to such a deceit, of that Chen Pingan was certain. Who, then, could have carried it to those distant lands?

Chen Pingan’s lips curved in a wry smile. “But enough of that. Have you settled upon a Divine Title, Mountain Lord Wei?”

“Such matters are best discussed over wine.”

Wei Bo did not lead them up the mountain, but rather to a tavern at the foot of the mountain, kept by a woman named Huang Erniang. She employed another to tend to the stall, a mere branch of her establishment. Her son, Bai Shang, was a prodigy of the highest caliber, a true scholar. He had studied for years at the Chen Clan’s school near Dragon Tail Creek. Now, possessing noble standing, he continued his studies afar. Surely he would achieve great things. Perhaps he would test at the capitol. The rich widow had lived quite a life, and had no interest in a husband, or as they called them in their homeland, “foot takers”. Some said Zheng Dafeng the gate keeper would be the lucky one, his eyes alight when he talked to her. Years had passed, however, and nothing had come of it.

Huang Erniang herself was tending to the tavern. Wei Bo selected a table, requesting three jugs of the finest brew from the aging woman, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Since she learned that Zheng Dafeng had returned, she had frequented this place, doing more than her part to help out with the matters of the mountain lord, so it is only just to support her business. Master Xiao Mo, I shall have to burden you with the bill, for I fear Mountain Lord Chen may seek refuge in the privy, vanishing in the blink of an eye.”

Xiao Mo nodded, quick to defend his master: “Wei, you wrong him! My master drinks generously and pays honorably.”

Wei Bo chuckled. “Ah, but have I not heard of the Second Master’s exploits at Sword Qi Great Wall, where he was known for his persuasive drinking and unwillingness to extend credit?”

Chen Pingan merely smiled, emptying half a bowl of wine in one swallow. Then, wiping his lips, he replied as if nothing was amiss: “I did make exceptions, though, twice.”

Only two exceptions, and those were the last, though many requested the same.

The tavern, table, bowls, and wine still remained.

Chen Pingan pressed on. “Not ‘Night Wanderer’ for your Divine Title, then?”

Wei Bo replied, “Nay, I shall name myself ‘Spiritual Dew’. As for that book, I have added over thirty thousand words. I must have your word, here and now, that you will not credit me as author. Or it will become impossible for us to be friends.”

Chen Pingan nodded, a glint in his eye. “Mountain Lord Wei is wise, and I dare not defy him.”

Wei Bo glared. “You mock me?”

Chen Pingan quickly raised his bowl. “Even before Wen Miao deems Pi Yun Mountain fit, Mountain Lord Wei’s temper flares! How will a poor relative such as I ever hope to call upon you?”

Xiao Mo nodded, raising his own bowl, uttering not a word as he emptied it. Only then did he say, “Do not forget your friends in fortune. It is not the Mountain Lord Wei way.”

Wei Bo raised his bowl, touching it to Chen Pingan’s before turning to Xiao Mo, a look of mock despair upon his face. “Xiao Mo, do not emulate this man! His capacity for wine is matched only by his terrible habits. He thinks if someone offers no drink, they are not a friend, and if he doesn’t offer, they are not brothers.”

Chen Pingan feigned deafness, murmuring “Spiritual Dew.”

According to *Shuowen Jiezi*, it was the dew of heaven, a proper term to describe virtue in governing a nation.

Before becoming a mountain lord for Qi Dun mountain, Wei Bo was a powerful mountain god for the Kingdom of Water in Gu Shu.

His new name was a remembrance of a home far away, not that there were regulations against that. But for Wei Bo, the benefits did not outweigh the risks, unlike Night Wanderer, which would have brought no drawbacks at all. As a mountain lord for Bei Yue, his godly name spoke of rain and water, and he was now tied forever to Da Li. Should Da Li prosper, so would he. But if it did not, his godly body would suffer as a result.

Chen Pingan asked again, “Are you sure?”

Wei Bo answered, “As a mountain god, the water is perfect.”

Chen Pingan smiled. “That is one way to view it.”

Wei Bo was made of his mind, Chen Pingan would not meddle.

“His Majesty will be happy. No, delighted, I mean, unexpected delight. He will believe that he has not wasted his trust on Pi Yun.”

Wei Bo laughed, “In other words, he’ll be grateful for the lack of a viper?”

Chen Pingan laughed, “That’s a bit harsh, even for you. Drink one down and refill it!”

Wei Bo stared at Xiao Mo. “Is he really like this? Do I misunderstand?”

Xiao Mo, without another word, took down a shot. “What he says might sound like a shot, but there’s sense to it.”

Wei Bo shook his head. “Could you find me an assistant like that?”

Chen Pingan downed his drink, a “sssuuuu” sound escaping his lips. “You won’t find another like him.”

Xiao Mo was elated, and wanted to make a toast like Zheng Dafeng would, but was quickly silenced by a stare from his young master, and turned toward Wei Bo. “Let’s see how deep this friendship goes.”

Wei Bo was angry. “You forgot whose land this is?”

Chen Pingan waved his hand as if to say, “You talk too much, just drink.”

Wei Bo yelled, “Xiao Mo, I am being sincere! You can try to get me to drink, but with each shot, our bond grows thinner.”

Xiao Mo, for the first time, was nervous.

Chen Pingan chuckled, “Come on, the depths of your friendship require an ocean of alcohol to traverse. Don’t fall for his tricks.”

Wei Bo gave up and sighed.

Chen Pingan asked using heart-speak, “Is Yang Hua of Qi Du somehow similar to you? Perhaps a reincarnated god?”

Wei Bo said nothing, but smiled.

Chen Pingan chose to ask no further.

Wei Bo scoffed. “That Uncle Chen of yours is something else. Drinking with his friends at the base of my mountain, practically screaming for me to entertain his guests for him.”

The boy flaunted a fourteenth-realm dragon slayer, an ascension-realm master, and a jade sword immortal.

Chen Pingan smiled. “It’s what happens when you give him the cold shoulder for so many years. But I must clarify: Jingqing has never once spoken ill of you, not even once, in my presence. In fact, he’d say good things. It was rather awkward, really. He seemed quite miserable while straining to be nice.”

Wei Bo was surprised, and thought that the little boy would only talk ill of him.

Xiao Mo nodded, “He never said anything bad when he was staying with us. Only talked about how great your friendship was.”

Wei Bo touched his chin. He felt a little bad.

Wei Bo spoke. “His Majesty departed the capitol early. He has changed his plans, and has gone south, entering Yun Zhou. I believe he is coming to find you.”

Chen Pingan hesitated. “It would be best if you forgot about that.”

From the boy who was drinking alone, to the second master’s tavern, to the streets, Chen Pingan had tasted a bit of everything, and had sworn never to trouble friends.

Wei Bo grinned, “The old driver is like a firefly in a garden. I’d have to be blind not to see him.”

Chen Pingan asked, “That’s the excuse you’re going with? You can’t think of anything better?”

Wei Bo answered, “What need do I have for an excuse to drink?”

Chen Pingan jumped to his feet, holding his bowl with both hands. “Hear, hear! On the topic of wine, let’s be done with it. Xiao Mo, drink up!”

***

Yun Zhou, Yan Zhou, Sui An County

Green hills stretched away in the distance, and rivers flowed. In the village, the sun was beating down. Outside the tofu shops, the sun beat down on the squares of bean curd, turning them white like silver. Donkeys pulled millstones as strong men watched the women, their chests and hips. The men coughed and called in stronger voices. Old men in the shade smoked their pipes, thinking about the rain from the past spring and the coming harvest. Doors were marked with “good fortune” marks written by grandchildren, full of youth. Chickens chirped in baskets.

Two carriages slowly crossed the border. High above, a Wen Chang pagoda could be seen.

Along a thin tributary of the River Mei, a pavilion with a black roof was seen.

By the pavilion grew a tall tree that shaded the ground.

Inside sat officials Pei Tong and Chu Liang, the leaders of the area.

The two soldiers stood by the door, young and fair, and ready for a fight.

The two men had secretly been told to await His Majesty.

Emperor Song He pushed back the blinds, signaling to Pei and Chu.

Since he was not in the Capitol, the Emperor was relaxed. “This road has been hell on my rear end!”

Pei Tong understood that the roads of his realm had to be repaired.

Song He entered, as the soldiers bowed.

The Emperor loosened his robes and sat down, signaling for everyone to do the same.

Song He said, “I was just reading the notes on this county, and it appears that there have been more than sixty academies built in the last century.”

Pei Tong said, “His Majesty, since ancient times, this has been a land of learning. Because of the lack of product, people focus on scholarly activity. Half the academies have been built in the last two decades, and the rest are just being built. And once built, the academies will be there for years to come.”

Chu Liang could tell that Pei Tong had a way with words.

Song He nodded, “I recall one record of a teacher writing, ‘Teach knowledge, then teach man. Teach man to be good.'”

Pei Tong said, “That was the first head of the Five Peaks Academy. A stone was placed there.”

Song He laughed.

Cui Chan was a teacher of the Emperor. Back when Song He was just a prince, Cui Chan told him that the soldiers of Da Li had hearts of gold, but lacked knowledge. In the same vein, the scholars did not have money or power, and were not able to do good.

Now, the Emperor laughed, “Before I came, I told Grandfather Zhao to get some words from the old estate. I will give it to you both when I get back to the wagon.”

Pei Tong and Chu Liang bowed.

Song He said, “General Chu is a general first. But books are a good thing to look at in your spare time.”

Chu Liang had little to say as he gave his orders.

Song He continued, “Yun Zhou is as it should be. It has a good feeling. It has high morals and good people. I hope that we continue.”

Pei Tong was calm on the outside, but his mind was racing. The Emperor said “himself,” but what about his family? In his mind, he knew the words by heart. He knew that he would need to send a letter home and allow the family to investigate themselves, and punish anyone who was immoral.

Song He said, “I brought you here to meet someone.”

Chu Liang had no clue, but Pei Tong seemed to know.

Who could be so great as to cause this?

Would it be a dispute about the ownership of the River Mei Dragon Palace, to the point that His Majesty had to make an appearance?

The Emperor ordered everyone to wait a few miles away.

Leaving the pavilion, he took his minister Zhao Yao and the manufacturer Li Baozhen, Song He took out a small book, and wrote some notes.

General Cao Wu of Yu Zhou had gone to Bei Yue, then the mountain lord had gone to tell Chen Pingan, and then they all had tea together. That was just the main part. The rest was more in depth. Only the Hanzhou felling office had never written anything to him.

Before, in the felling office, the Emperor only said a few words.

Chen Pingan, going by Chen Ji, was teaching in a little village in the mountain. According to reports, the river god Gao Liang, and Yu Hui, both knew about this and hid it from him. This all came to light after the Daoist Jing Hao arrived in Yun Zhou and told the palace about it.

The Emperor had been too late.

The Empress was staying with her people for the time being.

Song He said, “It’s about kindness. Minister Yao, do not punish the spies. If I was in their position, I would not tell you either.”

Gao Lang was known for his great character.

Yu Hui had been a military god for close to two decades, and had done great deeds.

Song He said, “She has earned a rank of two.”

Zhao Yao said, “She refused a badge that was too low, saying that she had to earn it first.”

Song He asked, “I thought that she was the one who was handing them out!”

Zhao Yao answered, “It is difficult to get her to accept, but if you let her transfer the badge, she might be persuaded to take a lower rank.”

Song He asked, “That has been done before?”

Zhao Yao nodded. “If you let her transfer, we can give her a rank of three.”

Song He turned to Li Baozhen. “What do you think?”

Li Baozhen said, “Your Majesty knows best, and is testing us.”

Song He patted Li Baozhen. “You were born to say nice things and insult.”

Zhao Yao said, “When it comes to that, we are nothing compared to the ladies in the lanes! They are all invincible.”

Li Baozhen nodded.

Song He asked, “Who would win?”

Zhao Yao said, “Masters never fight.”

Li Baozhen said, “They have their own domains. It can’t be understood.”

The three men all said that Chen Pingan must be special to have grown up there.

The customs of that town were known all over the land.

In the wagon, with the Emperor gone, Yu Yu was drinking.

Empress Yu Mian did not stop her. Yu Yu wiped her mouth. “I’m about to meet Lord Yin, and I’m nervous.”

Yu Yu said, “I am the only one who fears him. We are all ashamed.”

Yu Mian fanned the air and shook her head. “I thought he was a scholar.”

Yu Yu said, “Not for me.”

Song He said, “Baozhen, when you go home, go talk to Jian Feng. He can’t just sit around like that. It’s been happening for too long. Talk to him.”

Jian Feng had high expectations, and could not stand Cao Gengxin, and those at court knew that. If Jian Feng did not pick up the ball, then Song He would find Li Baozhen.

Li Baozhen retreated.

When Li Baozhen was gone, Zhao Yao returned. “There’s something strange about the assistant of the manufacturers, Zhu Lu.”

Song He massaged his brow. “If the driver is hiding something, there’s nothing to do. Since it is a fourteenth level master, then there will be no trace left, and it must be him.”

Zhao Yao nodded. “That makes sense. It was Lu Chen.”

Song He smiled. “Peach and plum meet, petals fall in the wilderness.”

Zhao Yao said, “What do the mountain men have? Fresh wine.”

Song He suddenly asked, “Wei will tell Chen, right? Minister Yao?”

Zhao Yao said, “It’s hard to say.”

It was hard to say.

The emperor laughed.

An old farmer appeared, and as he saw Song He and Zhao Yao, the pigs began running wild. Song He rubbed his hands and rolled up his sleeves, trying to keep the pigs from escaping. The farmer lost his mind and started screaming. With the Emperor’s help, the pigs were herded back, and the old man began to complain.

Song He cupped his hand.

This place had many customs and languages, so communication was hard. After a while, the three men chatted.

***

In Mu Zhou, there was a Phoenix Temple, where three important guests had arrived.

An old Daoist priest looked at the temple and chuckled, “The Dao is large here, but our ideas are grander.”

A young Daoist teased, “Grandmaster Hong, you must avoid getting caught up in your own grandeur.”

The leader, a Daoist in his middle age, said, “The words are not as grand as the idea.”

Hong was the leader of the Taoist priests of the capital.

The young Daoist was Ge Ling, who had a hidden identity.

The three of them had come to meet Wu Lingjing, the most important Daoist priest in Da Li, and the one with the most authority.

Wu Lingjing, who had received the honor of Monk of the Order of the Three Baskets, was from Qing Luan, and was one of the ones that Liu Qingfeng had pulled up.

There were other Daoist priests there, and together they greeted Wu Lingjing.

Wu Lingjing also went by the title Grand Daoist Master.

All the Daoist priests were a bit nervous, because they were afraid that the calm and easy to talk to Wu Lingjing would be a viper.

Wu Lingjing himself didn’t care what they thought. He was fine with seeing the sights and drinking tea.

This middling aged man had started practicing late, and had gotten where he was by pure luck.

When he was a mere mortal, he had loved reading, and his eyes had been harmed by the late hours. That was why he was always squinting. After he got to the top, he never got rid of the squint, and ended up with the moniker “Smiling Tiger.” Wu Lingjing was at the whims of the people.

Wu Lingjing had been invited by Yuan to introduce him to a special person, and it was not appropriate for them to meet in the capital.

Liu Zijun?

Wu Lingjing’s mood was complex.

He hoped that it was not that historical figure.

The history of that man was extreme, and highly opinionated.

To make matters worse, that man was able to write and spread lies throughout the land, and make people believe them.

Wu Lingjing sighed. Why, Yuan, did you have to do this?

And why, then, had Wen Miao not stepped in?

Why, then, had Yuan suggested to change the name of the state to what it was?

Yuan was in Yan Zhou right now, building a building to collect Qi.

Standing by Yuan was a young scholar who thought that this was for the best.

In a village, a teacher was teaching about the way.

“Boasting of your work is shallow. You should not be afraid to bow your head, but seek to be kind and just, and not afraid of the door knocking at night.”

Out the window stood a crowd, not making a sound.

Near the River Wu, in the village, three carriages were seen.

They wondered who they were.

The old teacher said, “They are officials, right?”

Han Wo was a scholar. “They are high officials.”

The teacher continued, “Most likely they come from a great family and practice as officials, then go off to a nice job in the capitol.”

Feng Yuanting could only stare. Would they really become County Magistrate?

Da Li could be divided in two, with Chu as the border.

Chen Pingan came out and bowed.

Song He bowed. “Song He greets Master Chen.”

Song He?

The teachers stared. It was quite a name.