The green mountains and the wise man, a meeting felt preordained. Beyond the tower, a thousand peaks rose, like a brush never lifted from its stroke. White clouds blossomed within the mirror, the bright moon descended before the steps. As the great sun ascended from the Eastern Sea, a new day dawned once more.

A little girl in black, a cotton bundle slung across her shoulder, a green bamboo staff in hand, and a golden carrying pole upon her shoulder, had finished her morning patrol duties. Now, she was ready to venture forth and test the waters of the Jianghu!

Days prior, she had arranged to meet the Left Guardian of Riding Dragon Lane at an agreed-upon time and place in Grayscale Mountain. Today, they would journey together towards Yellow Lake Mountain.

Sprinting along a narrow path behind Bright Vista Peak, her two short legs moved like whirling cartwheels.

The wind swept through the mountain forest, a great breath that stirred the landscape. Bamboo leaves rustled, pines roared, creating a symphony of nature’s music.

With the Lord of Good Men spending more time at home, the Right Guardian’s courage grew day by day.

Now, not only did she patrol between Bright Vista Peak and Gather Spirit Peak morning and evening, but occasionally, Little Rice Grain would even visit Grayscale Mountain, or even travel all the way to Yellow Lake Mountain.

This was mainly because Jing Qing had told her that a magistrate often went fishing at Yellow Lake Mountain. His name was Fu Hu, the governor of Pingnan County. He had somehow become acquainted with their Master.

Little Rice Grain wasn’t concerned about Fu Hu’s catch. She was more worried that the magistrate, a mere mortal with no cultivation, was fishing in a lake teeming with powerful aquatic creatures. There were several enormous Green Carp, some weighing over two hundred pounds. What if Fu Hu ended up being caught by the fish instead of the other way around?

Yellow Lake Mountain was once the domain of the Water Serpent Hong Xia. She had carved out a water mansion beneath the lake. Chen Nuan Shu and Chen Ling Jun’s Dragon King Baskets were refined here into a Mountain and Water Array.

There were several old tea trees on the mountain, and combined with the spring water from Distant Curtain Peak, the old chef would personally come up the mountain to harvest tea leaves every year before the Grain Rain season. He would then return to the mansion to fry and brew the tea. Little Rice Grain always praised the tea, saying it had a good flavor and a sweet aftertaste.

At a rest pavilion on the northern mountain path of Grayscale Mountain, Little Rice Grain met the Left Guardian and they began their leisurely journey towards Yellow Lake Mountain.

She took out some pastries she had prepared earlier and shared half with the Left Guardian. They were peach blossom cakes and almond crisps from Riding Dragon Lane’s own confectionery shop.

After eating the pastries, Little Rice Grain clapped her hands and said with a smile, “Left Guardian, did you know that not only Hong Xia’s Yellow Lake Mountain, but the guardian arrays of many of our tributary mountains were funded by Chief Zhou out of his own pocket? It cost a fortune!”

The Earth Dog nodded.

That Zhou Fatty was indeed rich, a true nouveau riche. He spent money without batting an eye. They could use a few more Chief Offerings like him.

Little Rice Grain said in a wise, old tone, “That Fu Hu who likes to fish by the lake is the magistrate of Pingnan County, a real government official. Jing Qing said that Magistrate Fu used to be the head of the Jingbao Office in Great Li’s capital. Coming to Pingnan County as a magistrate was a lateral move, not a promotion, but it was considered an important assignment. If we really meet this Magistrate Fu, remember to follow my lead. We need to be smart.”

The Earth Dog continued to nod. Chen Ling Jun was right, he was just a petty official. But being in charge of a county in Great Li’s Chuzhou was much more promising than being an idle person in the Jingbao Office. He must have had a powerful background. There was someone named Fu Yu who had once been the prefect of Baoxi County, a young master from a capital family. He had originally worked as a clerk for Wu Yuan, handling documents and accounts. Could he be related to Fu Hu?

Little Rice Grain looked down, puzzled. “Left Guardian, you know all this? Could it be that Sister Nuan Shu was right, and you can finally awaken and take on human form?”

The Earth Dog quickly shook its head.

If Little Rice Grain found out the truth, it wouldn’t just be Falling Petal Mountain. The Azure Myrtle Sword Sect in Tongye Continent would probably know too. It didn’t matter if anyone else knew, as long as Pei Qian didn’t.

This Left Guardian of Riding Dragon Lane had a name long ago: Han Lu.

If it wasn’t for Pei Qian, with its “true name” and having eaten pills like meals, it would have already succeeded in taking human form.

Thinking of that former Little Black Charcoal… the past was too painful to recall. Even after Pei Qian had transformed into a young woman, before she left for a trip to the Northern Emerald Continent, she seemed to have deliberately told Little Rice Grain: You are colleagues in the officialdom, don’t scheme against each other, you must love each other. When she was not at home, she asked the Left Guardian to check in with her from time to time, and don’t just wander around blindly. The Jianghu is dangerous, some experts at stealing dogs are good at catching dogs, they don’t even need meat buns, they just bend over and copy, they can take a dog wrapped in a cotton robe, and take it away without anyone knowing. When she returns, the Left Guardian will be in your stew pot, and we won’t be able to eat dog meat… When you eat with the old chef, don’t let the Left Guardian go hungry. Besides you, remember to remind the old chef to throw a few more bones on the ground.

Not eating was disrespectful, and Little Rice Grain would remember it, and Pei Qian would settle the accounts after returning home. Eating it lowered its status.

Little Rice Grain looked left and right. Seeing that no one was around, she pulled out a silk cloak from her cotton bag, tied it on, and practiced a bit of her Mad Demon Swordplay.

As a result, a figure in a green robe suddenly walked out from a pavilion with white walls and black tiles. His eyes were gentle, and he had a smile on his face, watching the Little Rice Grain who was “showing off.”

Little Rice Grain looked embarrassed and quickly ran towards the Lord of Good Men, who had come without warning, and said shyly, “It’s a bit childish, huh.”

This dark blue cloak, worn by Little Rice Grain, was the perfect size, and it was clear that it was the old chef’s workmanship.

“How is it childish? It’s because you don’t understand the essence that you feel awkward.”

As he spoke, Chen Ping An made a gesture of pinching something with two fingers and then flicking his wrist. “The female heroes in the Jianghu are like this.”

Little Rice Grain followed suit, reaching out to pull up a corner of her cloak and then shaking her wrist vigorously, making a rattling sound.

Oh ho, oh ho.

So that’s how it is!

Chen Ping An said seriously, “Do you still think it’s childish now?”

Little Rice Grain grinned and said, “It’s magnificent.”

Chen Ping An nodded to the Earth Dog, and it immediately understood and went off to play on its own.

He talked to Little Rice Grain about the recent situation of the subordinate sect, saying that the Azure Myrtle Sword Sect had newly established three prefectures, six departments, and eight bureaus, who was appointed to what position, and what each was in charge of.

Little Rice Grain listened in a daze, frowning her thin, yellow eyebrows, remembering carefully. How easy was it to be an eavesdropper?

Things were different after the Big White Goose became the Sect Leader, giving people official hats.

Chen Ping An smiled and said, “Sect Leader Cui is teaching me how to do things.”

Little Rice Grain blinked her eyes.
Chen Ping’an suppressed a smile, “You didn’t mention the ‘Heroes’ Register’ to Pei Qian, did you?”

Little Mi Li shook her head vigorously. “I promised Peak Lord White-Hair of the Grand Azure Sword Sect’s Graceful Peak. I can’t talk about that.”

However, the trivial matter of White-Hair becoming sworn brothers with the Good Man Mountain Master was recounted by Little Mi Li to Pei Qian in meticulous detail.

At the time, Pei Qian’s face darkened. She said, “Very good, I’ve noted it.”

Little Mi Li then voiced her honest opinion: White-Hair and the Good Man Mountain Master have a really good relationship. It’s obvious, even though the White Sword Immortal never says it, he inwardly admires the Good Man Mountain Master. Hmm, Old Chef gave an analogy, saying it’s like a young man meeting an adult he genuinely admires. Because he’s worried they won’t have anything to talk about, he likes to say, ‘I can drink alcohol now!'”

Pei Qian’s expression softened. She nodded, saying, “White-Hair was able to become the direct disciple of Sword Immortal Liu because Master paved the way for him. That guy has always been impudent. He didn’t even call Sword Immortal Liu ‘Master’ before. He’d just say ‘that Liu guy’, without any manners.”

Chen Ping’an rubbed his chin. If it wasn’t Little Mi Li who leaked the news, who could have revealed it to Pei Qian?

Little Mi Li scratched her face, still feeling she had to hint at it to the Good Man Mountain Master.

“Ha, it’s definitely not Jing Qing.”

Chen Ping’an patted the little girl’s head, feigning understanding. “So that’s it. It seems I wrongly accused Jing Qing.”

Chen Ping’an let Little Mi Li ride on his neck.

Just like a father doting on his own daughter.

The little girl rested her arms on the Good Man Mountain Master’s head, her round chin resting on her arms, squinting and smiling. She told the Good Man Mountain Master about all the interesting things she had seen during her mountain patrol yesterday, the day before, and the day before that. For example, there was a big toad on the road, ah! It walked so slowly. Near the Empty Heart Pavilion, some birds she couldn’t name had built a nest. Near the pavilion with the longest name, thirty-six steps away, the tea buds were almost ready to eat. Unfortunately, the kiwi fruits were still small. On one of the red lacquered pillars of the Rain-Watching Pavilion, someone had secretly carved words. Magpies chirped and chattered, often bringing good news from the treetops…

“Wow, so many new things, how interesting!”

“Of course, it’s extremely interesting.”

Grand Tutor Dao Lin would be presiding over the enfeoffment ceremony for Mount Beiheng’s Covering Cloud Peak. The Zhou Kingdom was responsible for going to Mount Zhongheng’s Purple Grasp Peak. Min Wen and Marquis Li were responsible for the enfeoffment ceremonies for Mount Dongheng’s Boulder Peak and Mount Xihang’s Ganzhou Peak, respectively.

Previously, they had only stayed at Fallen Phoenix Mountain for a short while. Dao Lin quickly followed Wei Bo to the Mountain God’s manor to discuss the ceremony’s procedures. During this, Marquis Li took the opportunity to visit Fallen Phoenix Mountain’s accounting office, where Wei Wenlong was so excited he couldn’t speak properly.

Chen Qingliu and Xin Ji’an left Fallen Phoenix Mountain together, planning to travel to the Autumn Wind Shrine, which still had no owner.

New friends and old friends were all leaving, and Chen Lingjun was reluctant to see them go. Jing Hao, who had been having two meals a day with alcohol, pretended to be reluctant.

Jing Hao’s direct disciple, Gao Geng, and the sword cultivator Bai Deng, as well as the ghost with the Daoist name Silver Deer, had already left the mountain before them, making their escape from the drinking sessions in a completely aboveboard manner.

Two drinking sessions a day! Every time there was morning drinking, Chen Lingjun wouldn’t trouble the clumsy girl Nuan Shu.

Chen Lingjun saw them off all the way to the mountain gate, promising Immortal Master Jing that as long as he traveled to Flowing Glow Continent, he would definitely visit Green Palace Mountain first.

He gave Chen Zhuoliu a package, saying that it contained some pastries from the New Year’s Paving Shop, dried stream fish he had dried himself, as well as tea from Yellow Lake Mountain and honey from Immortal Herb Mountain, etc., to eat on the road, which could be used as snacks with alcohol. He then sent a sound transmission to Chen Zhuoliu, asking him to say fewer yin and yang sarcastic remarks to Immortal Jing. He only had a large tolerance and was too lazy to argue with you, so don’t push your luck.

Chen Qingliu simply slung the light but heartfelt package over his shoulder and left without saying half a word to Chen Lingjun.

This angered the blue-robed pageboy, who had prepared polite farewell phrases like “Parting is inevitable after a thousand miles of travel.” He restrained himself again and again, but ultimately couldn’t resist. He took three steps in two, leaped forward, and kicked Chen Qingliu in the butt, cursing, “Go to hell!”

Jing Hao pretended not to see anything, but his eyelids were twitching.

Several figures walked further and further away.

Chen Zhuoliu suddenly raised his arm and waved it gently a few times.

Only then did Chen Lingjun feel content, and he moved to sit next to the Daoist Immortal Guard.

The Immortal Guard, sitting in a bamboo chair basking in the sun, couldn’t help but ask, “Jing Qing, haven’t you ever been to a Confucian Temple?”

Chen Lingjun was stunned for a moment, and asked in confusion, “Only my master has been to the Central Earth Confucian Temple on Fallen Phoenix Mountain. Who am I? How could I go? Would they let me in if I went?”

The Immortal Guard was instead stumped by Chen Lingjun’s words, and said helplessly, “I’m not talking about the Central Earth Confucian Temple, I mean the kind of Confucian Temple that can be seen everywhere in counties and prefectures.”

According to the Vastness’s rites and customs, every county town in the nine continents had a Confucian Temple built.

Chen Lingjun looked at him with pity, and raised his hand to pat the Daoist Immortal Guard on the shoulder. “You’ve become stupid from reading too many books.”

“Aren’t you talking nonsense? There are so many Confucian Temples along the Imperial River within the Yellow Court Kingdom’s borders. How could I not have been to them?”

The Immortal Guard became even more puzzled. Since he had been there, why didn’t he recognize those scholars? Apart from the Confucian Temples in some poor and remote small county towns, the ordinary prefectural Confucian Temples, or the slightly wealthier county Confucian Temples, would all hang portraits of the Ten Sages of Confucianism together.

Chen Lingjun was somewhat guilty. It was shameful to say that he hadn’t been to many Confucian Temples, but of course he had been there. “When you enter a mountain, you have to pay respect to the mountain deity. When you go into the water, you have to pay respect to the water spirit, don’t you know? When you enter a temple to burn incense, the most important thing is sincerity. Every time I go to a Confucian Temple, I first offer incense, then go to the main hall to worship the portraits. I stare intently at the portrait of the Most Sage Teacher from outside the door, and I have to be single-minded and not look askance. After crossing the threshold and kneeling on the futon, I kowtow to him!”

In Chen Lingjun’s view, this was called worshipping the biggest boss. For example, when you arrive at the Northern Grand洲, if you have the blessing, you have to get along well with the Black and White Fire Dragon True Person. And when you arrive at the Flowing Glow Continent, you have to visit Green Palace Mountain first and get close to the highly respected and broad-minded Immortal Master Jing.

After Chen Lingjun said this, the Immortal Guard understood and deeply believed it. It was indeed something that Chen Lingjun could do.

The Immortal Guard looked at the blue-robed pageboy with a look of pity, and patted him on the shoulder, “Fellow Daoist Jing Qing, you really don’t walk the beaten path.”

Chen Lingjun laughed, “These are all precious Jianghu experiences that are hard to buy with a thousand taels of gold. You have something to learn.”
The homecoming date was continuously postponed, with Gao Jun, the perpetually delayed Sect Master of the Lakeside Mountain Sect, finally willing to leave Fallen Peak and Cloud-Draped Mountain, returning first to Lotus Root Blessed Land.

Zhong Qian returned to his homeland, All Heavens, two days later than Gao Jun. This unambitious Golden Body Realm martial artist, were it not for his position as the number one martial artist in Blessed Land, would probably have stayed in his private residence on Jise Peak, continuing to dip scallions in sauce, drink a little wine, read some miscellaneous books borrowed from the Great Wind Brothers and Daoist Xianwei, and at meal times, run to Zhu Lian’s place to help serve the dishes, and after eating, help the pink-skirted girl clean up the dishes, finally ordering a few dishes with the old chef, looking forward to the next meal.

On this day, a visitor from Ox Horn Ferry came straight to Fallen Peak.

The White-Haired Child was unpredictable, and her role as a compiler was as dedicated as a minor spirit’s ear.

Among all the visitors, finally a Middle Fifth Realm Qi Refiner arrived!

It was Zeng Ye, the Sect Master of the Five Islands Sect of Book Brief Lake, who arrived from the Great Li capital by ferry. The White-Haired Child recorded the date, month, year, and genealogical identity.

Zeng Ye politely declined the compiler’s offer of guidance, and walked to the bamboo house on Jise Peak himself. Chen Ping’an put down his pen and led Zeng Ye to sit down at the stone table by the cliff.

Chen Ping’an asked with a smile, “Have you been to the Great Li capital?”

Zeng Ye nodded, hesitant to speak.

Chen Ping’an said, “Have you already seen her?”

For no reason, Zeng Ye burst into tears.

Chen Ping’an was silent for a moment, unsure how to comfort Zeng Ye properly, and simply said, “If you have time, go to Zhu Lian’s place and sit for a while, and chat with him about this matter.”

Zeng Ye composed himself and chatted with Mr. Chen about the situation of the Five Islands Sect. Chen Ping’an listened carefully and gave some advice, telling Zeng Ye which details to pay attention to.

Afterwards, Nuan Shu arrived and stood far away on the bluestone path, not disturbing the mountain master’s discussion of important matters with Sect Master Zeng. When the conversation ended, she walked to the stone table and took Sect Master Zeng to a residence in the mountain. At the entrance of the house, Zeng Ye took the key, thanked Nuan Shu, entered the house, put down his luggage, hesitated for a moment, and went directly to Zhu, the old gentleman who was the head housekeeper of Fallen Peak.

The door of the old chef’s house was always ajar, never bolted, and anyone could come and visit.

Zhu Lian was lying on a rattan chair, shaking a cattail fan, and sat up, smiling, “Sect Master Zeng, a pleasure to meet you.”

Zeng Ye bowed and said, “Zeng Ye of the Five Islands Sect, greets Mr. Zhu.”

Zhu Lian waved his cattail fan, “We’re all family, no need to be polite, sit down and chat.”

The young man had once been an accounting assistant for his young master in Azure Gorge Island.

Zeng Ye sat on a bamboo chair under the eaves and told an old story from many years ago. The story began with a young man being brought to Azure Gorge Island by a benefactor named Zhang Ye, where he saw Mr. Chen, who was haggard but with bright eyes, wearing a cotton robe and with a gentle demeanor. Zeng Ye also talked about how the young man feared Gu Can. At the beginning of this landscape story, there was nothing to do with wine. Then, Mr. Chen lived next door, and the timid and weak young man gradually relaxed. He encountered some people and things related to Book Brief Lake, but very un-Book Brief Lake-like, ghosts and debts. Just as Zeng Ye was about to talk about the girl from Yellow Fence Mountain, Zhu Lian stood up and said, “Wait a moment,” and went to the wine cellar to get a pot of wine. He opened the mud seal and handed it to Zeng Ye. Zeng Ye drank the wine, not knowing whether it was the person drinking the wine or the wine drinking the person, and continued to tell the story, all the way to his trip to the Great Li capital, to the reunion under the big sun. There was a girl squatting and reading a book, and the story in the book had a timid young man named Zeng Ye, and a Miss Su who might not like Zeng Ye until the end of the story, and who might not know that Zeng Ye liked her, or might know but pretended not to know.

By the end, the wine pot was empty, and Zeng Ye was still there, looking up and drinking.

Zhu Lian waved his cattail fan and said softly, “The young man originally thought that in order to reunite with his beloved girl in this life, he would need to find her and wait for her for a hundred years, several hundred years, a thousand years. If he didn’t find her, I believe the young man could continue to like her forever. But things are so strange, it’s like a dream come true, finally finding the girl he loves. Logically speaking, this is such a rare and lucky thing, he should be extremely grateful, but he began to be worried about gains and losses. But to say he’s sad, it doesn’t seem to be heart-wrenching. He feels that it definitely shouldn’t be like this, how can he be so insatiable? He shouldn’t be. It’s so subtle, scratching at his heart and lungs, causing him great mental anguish.”

“This kind of taste is not bitterness, but astringency.”

“To completely forget Miss Su and turn to like the current Miss Liu, he feels sorry for the former.”

“To long for Miss Su for a long time, and at the same time like Miss Liu, he feels sorry for the latter.”

“Only because deep down in your heart, you have to admit that they are not the same person after all.”

“To like someone, not like someone, like someone at the same time, like no one at all, it seems that no matter what you do, it’s wrong.”

“It’s not the kind of person who likes to pretend to be confused, since you know it’s wrong, how can we truly settle our hearts?”

Zhu Lian asked with a smile, “Zeng Ye, knowing that this would be so heart-wrenching, would you regret meeting Miss Su back then? Would you regret going to the Great Li capital this time?”

The former young man Zeng Ye, the current Sect Master of the Five Islands Sect, shook his head vigorously and without hesitation, “Absolutely not!”

Zhu Lian nodded, nodded, “Seeing her, at least you can rest assured. As for some new regrets, just keep them hidden in your heart for a long, long time. Zeng Ye, if you ask me at this point, ‘Are you not going to do anything?’ Then I will ask you, ‘Have you really done nothing?’ Listen to me, go back to the capital again. Put aside the affairs of the Five Islands Sect for a year or two, two or three years. When you get to the capital, the only thing you need to do is force yourself to do nothing, lest you make mistakes on top of mistakes, otherwise it will be even harder to clean up your heart. Find an ordinary job for ordinary people there, and maybe one day the answer will run into your heart by itself.”

Zeng Ye nodded, his voice hoarse, “I’ll listen to Mr. Zhu, I’ll do it that way.”

After listening to Mr. Zhu say so much, Zeng Ye felt much better.

Zhu Lian smiled slightly, “Finally, I’ll give you a word of advice: Don’t place too high expectations on matters of love between men and women, but don’t have no hope at all in your heart.”

Zeng Ye grinned, “I’ll remember that.”
Chen Ping’an had been secretly standing outside the door, straining his ears to listen. Only after hearing this did he quietly leave.

Further away, there was a pink-skirted girl. Chen Ping’an raised a finger to his lips, then smiled and nodded to her. Nuan Shu gave a curtsy and went to busy herself elsewhere with nimble steps.

A Wind Kite ferry, having traveled the southeastern trade route of the Northern Entire Reed Continent, slowly docked at Ox Horn Ferry at dusk this day.

Chen Ping’an, with Xiao Mi Li and Chen Lingjun, had been waiting here for a long time.

While waiting, the little girl in black borrowed the Golden Carrying Pole from the boy in green and sparred with him, vying in swordsmanship. Xiao Mi Li stood still, waving her Green Bamboo Staff, while Chen Lingjun dodged and weaved, jumping and hopping, happily shouting.

Jia Sheng, respectfully called “Old Immortal Jia” or “Half-Immortal Jia” by the local townsfolk, walked behind Chang Ming, the Chief of Laws who was temporarily serving as the ferry’s chief steward. Earlier, on the ferry deck, the blind old Daoist had taken a deep sniff, exclaiming that the mountain breeze smelled of wine, just like home.

It had been too long since he’d shared a drink, played finger-guessing games, and had heart-to-heart talks with his old buddy Jing Qing, and the old Daoist felt restless.

Chen Ping’an, with his hands tucked into his sleeves, smiled and said, “Everyone has worked hard.”

The Chief of Laws Ancestor of Fallen Phoenix Mountain, dressed in a snow-white robe, gave a curtsy and softly called out, “Master.”

Actually, according to Chen Ping’an’s initial idea, this Daoist friend Chang Ming, whom he had met in Old Deaf’s prison, could serve as the accountant of Fallen Phoenix Mountain, being one of the two pillars together with Wei Wenlong.

However, Cui Dongshan later became the Chief of Laws Ancestor.

After returning to his hometown, Chen Ping’an privately asked Pei Qian what her impression of Chang Ming was.

Pei Qian told the truth. First, she said some nice words as a preface, and finally added, “Looking at her for too long is unsettling.”

Chen Ping’an was relieved.

It seemed that Chang Ming serving as the Chief of Laws was the best choice, without a doubt.

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “The new steward of this Wind Kite ferry will be an old sword cultivator named Xing Yun, a new offering from the Green Plume Sword Sect. Old Immortal Jia’s identity remains unchanged; he is still the second steward. As for the ferry, it still belongs to our Upper Sect, of course. Chang Ming, as a Chief of Laws Ancestor of a sect, spending the whole year running a ferry business, is, as Sect Master Cui said, a bit inappropriate.”

Generally speaking, a cross-continent ferry is more than adequately guarded by a Jade Purity Realm cultivator. Moreover, Xing Yun is also a sword cultivator from the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Chen Ping’an then spoke to Jia Sheng about another matter. The Green Plume Sword Sect had built a new Jade Sea Academy, and the Headmaster, Seed Master, was planning to invite Jia Sheng to serve as a lecturer at the academy.

Xiao Mi Li, holding her Green Bamboo Staff, stopped and silently applauded. Chen Lingjun, who was helping to carry the Golden Carrying Pole, was a bit confused. Had both the Great White Goose and Seed Master taken Old Jia’s money? Otherwise, if this wasn’t a drinking bout, what could Old Jia possibly lecture about at the academy?

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “To understand the ways of the world is to learn, to be versed in human affairs is to create literature. Sect Master Cui and Seed Master both acknowledge Old Immortal Jia’s knowledge beyond books, so I have agreed to this matter on your behalf.”

“Ah?”

Old Immortal Jia was momentarily flustered. “But this humble Daoist has always been straightforward and never known how to be tactful. I am hardly worthy of this praise.”

Chen Ping’an, with his hands tucked into his sleeves, smiled without a word.

Chen Lingjun rolled his eyes. Xiao Mi Li scratched her cheek.

Old Immortal Jia stomped his foot in annoyance. Look, he had said the wrong thing again! To look down on one’s own cultivation was one thing, but how could he look down on the discernment and kindness of Sect Master Cui and Seed Master?

Chen Ping’an explained, “While Cui Dongshan might joke with you, you know very well what kind of person Seed Master is. Without Seed Qiu’s approval, Cui Dongshan cannot simply force people into the academy as lecturers. As for the specific content of the lectures, when the Wind Kite ferry travels south to the Tong Ye Continent and arrives at Fish Scale Ferry, Old Immortal Jia can discuss it with Seed Master himself.”

Jia Sheng rubbed his hands together and said, “I’ll try my best. If I am unworthy and unable to fulfill the role of lecturer, I won’t need Seed Master to chase me away. This humble Daoist will pack his bags and scram.”

Chang Ming asked, “Master, I heard that the Five Sacred Mountains are about to be officially recognized. Do we need to prepare congratulatory gifts?”

For major events like the official recognition of the Five Sacred Mountains, sects and great immortal residences within the continent need to offer congratulations as a matter of courtesy. Usually, the sect leader or headmaster would write a letter in their own hand and prepare a gift that matches the mountain’s status.

Chen Ping’an said, “Apart from Jin Qing and Fan Junmao, we, Fallen Phoenix Mountain, will not offer a warm face to a cold backside to the rest of the mountain deities.”

Old Immortal Jia immediately understood the implication. This was something worth pondering.

Chief of Laws Chang Ming smiled and said, “Previously, in the Northern Entire Reed Continent, we met several important figures. Steward Jia had a conversation with them, and his responses were fluent and extremely appropriate.”

Old Immortal Jia blushed and said, “Drinking causes trouble. I can’t control my mouth. Drinking causes trouble, ah.”

Chen Lingjun slapped Jia Sheng’s arm and said, “Old Jia, you’re amazing! You’ve achieved another great feat!”

Everyone knew that Chief of Laws Chang Ming did not praise people lightly.

Jia Sheng said helplessly, “It’s nothing, it’s nothing. Don’t mention a great feat. Thinking about it now, I’m still filled with lingering fear. I’m afraid that I said something wrong at the drinking bout, which would negatively impact those scholars’ perception of Fallen Phoenix Mountain.”

Officialdom, whether in the mountains or below, was the same. People feared not speaking or acting, but they feared even more speaking or acting incorrectly.

Chen Lingjun laughed heartily and said, “What are you afraid of? As long as you’re at the drinking bout, Old Jia, you and that Wine Immortal Liu are both invincible!”

Jia Sheng had a headache. He dared not compare himself to Sword Immortal Liu.

Chen Ping’an asked curiously, “Oh? What happened? Who did you meet? What did you talk about? Tell me in detail.”

Chang Ming then narrated the detailed process of the drinking bout. Chen Ping’an listened attentively.

It turned out that at an immortal ferry in the Northern Entire Reed Continent, Old Immortal Jia accompanied Chief of Laws Chang Ming to finalize a deal with a local immortal residence. There was a tavern nearby that happened to sell a type of immortal wine called “Twin Spring Wine.” Knowing that Jia Sheng loved wine and having finalized the deal, Chief of Laws Chang Ming naturally had no objection. As a result, they happened to encounter a group of people who had already settled in the tavern to drink. Compared to the last time in Riding Dragon Lane, there was one less elderly scholar from the Chen Clan of Pure Scholars in the Continent of the Umbrellas and more two slender old men in Confucian robes, and an old, simple-looking servant. Among them, the two familiar faces were Pang Chao, the Wood Guest of Luoyang, and the female cultivator Qin Buyi, who had visited Riding Dragon Lane in the past.

Qin Buyi was generous and took the initiative to invite Chief of Laws Chang Ming and Jia Sheng to drink together.

The three old gentlemen looked like they were rich, noble, and poor.

Among them, Huang Zhenshu, claimed to be a lecturer at the Scholar’s Platform Academy of Cultivation.
There was also an old scholar named Zeng Xinxu, who claimed to have been a compiler in a small kingdom. Now free from official duties, he was traveling the vast land with two old friends, enjoying a rare moment of leisure.

The last one was named Fan Cheng, who didn’t talk much.

At first, Jia Sheng was a bit reserved, but after a few cups of fragrant immortal wine from the mountains, his courage immediately grew. Although the old Daoist was very measured and never dared to get drunk, that slightly tipsy state was truly wonderful. Coupled with the fact that Huang Zhenshu was quite talkative and skilled at toasting and encouraging drinks, Jia the Old Immortal soon opened the floodgates of conversation.

And so, the conversation led to the Fallen Mountain, Mountain Master Chen, morality and learning… Jia the Old Immortal’s words seemed unconstrained, but in fact, everything was perfectly measured.

When he talked about that Master Nanfeng with Huang Zhenshu, with whom he found the most affinity because they both drank like water, Jia Sheng drained his cup and declared, “Nanfeng’s writings are unique in the world, like the Jianghan among rivers and the Big Dipper among stars.”

Zhang Lu Changming keenly noticed that the old scholar named Zeng Xinxu shook his head with a smile upon hearing this.

Huang Zhenshu asked with a smile, “Does that young mountain master admire popular articles like ‘Record of the Ink Pond at Daoshan Pavilion’?”

This old scholar seemed to have been waiting at the table for the blind Daoist to utter those commonplace, already-established praises.

Jia Sheng laughed heartily and shook his head repeatedly. “The reason my mountain master admires Master Nanfeng so much is not just because of the rigor and correctness of his writing, but because of the arrangement of his essays. Our mountain master frankly said that if it were only for that, there would be thousands upon thousands of outstanding articles in the world, shining brightly like a constellation of stars, and Master Nanfeng would be just one of them. Articles like ‘Record of the Ink Pond at Daoshan Pavilion’ are excellent, of course, but they are only ‘excellent’. What our mountain master admires most wholeheartedly is not how beautifully Master Nanfeng’s certain famous works are written, but rather those controversial articles of the old master, such as ‘Record of Zhao Gong’s Disaster Relief in Yuezhou’ and ‘Record of the Yihuang County School’! Even more so, he admires Master Nanfeng’s consistency in words and deeds, his ability to apply what he has learned, his attention to economic affairs, his genuine concern for the people’s suffering, and his refusal to engage in empty talk! To be honest, our mountain master likes to copy books, taking notes and excerpts as he reads, but the articles he copies in their entirety…”

Jia the Old Immortal put down his wine cup, stretched out both hands, and then turned them over. “At most twenty articles. In terms of sheer quantity, Master Nanfeng is the undisputed champion, with four articles alone!”

“Tell me, how many beautiful articles are there in the world? The sea of books is boundless. Is it easy to pick out twenty pearls like these?!”

The old Daoist’s words were true. Mountain Master Chen Ping’an did indeed admire Master Nanfeng extremely.

But to say that he had said these “excessive praises” to Jia Sheng was really not the case, not nearly as exaggerated as the old Daoist had described.

It was only during a casual chat with Jia Sheng, while sitting on the edge of the old cook’s courtyard, munching on melon seeds, that Chen Ping’an’s words were still very simple.

Zhu Lian did echo a few sentences, which were all transported by Jia the Old Immortal to that wine table.

“Of course, our mountain master also said that this is just his own opinion and personal preference. The quality of learning in those pearl-like articles and those not selected has some connection, but no absolute connection. After all, everyone has their own aesthetic and purpose.”

“Is there any point in scholars simply cursing heaven, earth, and people? It is amusing. But is it meaningful? This humble Daoist thinks not necessarily.”

“Good scholarship, for the world, cannot only be destructive. It also needs the ability to repair and build. When you tear it down, you have to rebuild it. You can’t just dust off your pants and leave, and stop writing there.”

“Scholars say that writing conveys the Way, passing on the torch. Then can the true gains and losses of an article only lie in the brilliance of its writing, the splendor of its embellishments? Can it not be tied to governance and chaos?”

“It is good to be able to raise questions. It is even better to be able to solve problems.”

The two old gentlemen, Huang Zhenshu and Zeng Xinxu, exchanged glances and smiled knowingly. They then turned their gaze in unison to the silent old man with the expressionless face.

Wasn’t it a bit like that of the Literary Saint expounding reason and Shao Gong explaining the scriptures to you?

He liked and was good at advocating a gradual progression, with each link interlocking, not easily denying, but also not easily affirming. The truly good is often found at a higher level.

“This humble Daoist is shallow in talent and limited in learning. Originally, I was no different from ordinary people, only admiring Zeng Wending Gong’s brilliant writing. It was only after chatting with the mountain master that I felt that what made this Master different from those great literary figures who were renowned in history was the most powerful aspect. The mountain master said that in dealing with people, one must both emulate the virtuous and create something new. One must not only avoid being vulgar, but also possess unique elegance. However, in writing and in being a person, to be different without saying strange things or acting absurdly, and without deliberately attracting attention with a strange writing style or obscure content, is as difficult as ascending to heaven.”

Pang Chao had long been completely bewildered by the series of sincere words that this blind old Daoist had prepared.

Before drinking, he was still a bit reserved, showing kindness and politeness. He never thought that after drinking, the old Daoist was simply… divinely assisted.

Pang Chao didn’t read much, but he knew the weight of these praises for Qin Buyi, who was from the same hometown as Bai Ye and lived in the same era.

In short, if this old Daoist was not talking nonsense, it meant that in Chen Ping’an’s mind, this Master Nanfeng, whom he had never met, was completely comparable to the most successful Bai Ye and Hao Ran Su Zi in the world. Even surpassing them?

If he was trying to cram at the last minute, there was no way the old Daoist could have come up with this kind of “crash course.”

Huang Zhenshu asked with a mental voice, “Has this Daoist already recognized our identities?”

Qin Buyi was not sure.

There were many wonders on the Fallen Mountain.

The most taciturn old scholar shook his head slightly, which was considered an answer.

Zeng Xinxu asked with a smile, “May I ask Daoist Jia, what does your mountain master think of the writings of Su Zi’s favorite students? For example, the Huang of Su Huang?”

Jia Sheng hesitated, then drained the wine in his cup to bolster his courage. “Our Fallen Mountain has always treated others with sincerity, putting ourselves in their shoes. The mountain master did mention this Master Chonghe, and said that if he was fortunate enough to meet that talented old Master Huang, he could drink and talk about life with him to his heart’s content. However, he should never discuss trivial matters of the world with him, such as how many meat buns a bolt of silk can be exchanged for, or how many pounds of charcoal can be exchanged for a bolt of silk. This is called… a wealthy man spending the night in the mountains, mistaking the sound of the stream for the sound of rain.”
“My Mountain Lord at home is exceedingly fond of the phrase ‘Ten years’ lamp under the river lake rain,’ and ‘A cup of wine amidst peach blossoms and spring breeze.’ He loves it so much that he can drink a whole pot of wine alone whenever he thinks of it. But he utterly dislikes the line ‘Watching people harvest rice in the cool afternoon breeze.’ He dislikes it to the point where the always-reticent Chen Mountain Lord would drink in consternation, repeatedly questioning himself how that old scholar could write such heartless verses.”

The old Daoist sighed softly as he said this, pouring himself a cup of wine, then raising it high, as if offering a respectful apology to the sages, “Much offense, may the sages not take it to heart.”

Zeng Xinyu burst out laughing, while Huang Zhenshu smiled and nodded, “Aptly criticized, one must grit their teeth and accept it.”

Qin Buyi and Pang Chao found it even more amusing.

A young man, suddenly famous, not revealing emotions, achieving fame and great merit, with such profoundness and skill, is usually a hero or sage, but can also be a great villain.

If this wine party today only consisted of listening to the blind Daoist’s eloquent flattery, even if it was sincere, it would still be of little significance.

Hearing this, Chen Ping’an had already guessed the identities of the two old scholars: Zeng Wending Gong, and the Master of Nanfeng. The Master Chonghe from under Su Shi.

Chen Ping’an then asked, “What did others call the last old gentleman?”

Changming smiled, “They all called him Old Man Shao. From beginning to end, he didn’t chat with Jia Sheng at all.”

Chen Ping’an was momentarily speechless, as the old scholar’s true name was much more than that.

His learning was profound, his skill immense, especially proficient in the Three Tombs, Five Canons, astronomy, calendrical calculations, and the River Chart and Luo Writings, a grandmaster who continued the incense of Old Text Classics and opened the way for New Text Classics.

It was both the official learning promoted by various countries and a prominent discipline within the Confucian orthodoxy, a grandmaster among grandmasters, a teacher of teachers.

Although known throughout the world for his rigorous scholarship, a truly learned Confucian scholar, he was simple and inarticulate, extremely unskillful in speech. If students had doubts, they would mostly write letters to ask the teacher, and the old scholar would also answer in writing. This was also a piece of amusing trivia within Confucianism.

However, for some reason, he was not honored with a place in the Confucian Temple.

There were even rumors that he once closed the door and sat facing an old scholar who came to visit, each holding a pen, “arguing” on paper, back and forth, writing ten thousand words.

The result was that the old scholar finally gave a thumbs-up, praising the other’s writing.

Logically speaking, such a secret matter that only “Heaven knows, Earth knows, you know, and I know” would never be spread, at least He Zhi would absolutely not spread this matter to his disciples.

But the entire Confucian community somehow spread it with every detail, how Old Man Shao was flushed red, and how the old scholar was calm and composed, winning this hard-fought battle in laughter and jest.

Chen Ping’an also knew that Wen Yu, the Deputy Mountain Lord of the Tianmu Academy in Tongye Continent, was his unacknowledged disciple, more of a friend than a student.

At the end of the wine party, Old Immortal Jia also gave some of his own insights, such as “The scholars of an era have their own scholarship, like entering a fence, full of limitations. If anyone can foresee the trends and flow of the literary tradition in the next millennium, they are the top scholars in the world, and can join the pre-stream of the source.” The “pre-stream” saying was originally a Buddhist term, and the two old scholars smiled at each other, hearing this explanation for the first time.

As for that stern little old man, although he looked poor and humble, Jia Sheng intentionally and unintentionally offered him a few more toasts at the table.

After the Law Enforcer of Fallen Cloud Mountain and Old Immortal Jia bid farewell and left.

The Master of Nanfeng stroked his beard and smiled, “Unexpectedly, to be so praised by Mountain Lord Chen is a fortunate thing in life, nothing surpasses meeting one or two like-minded friends in a foreign land.”

Not in hearing a few nice words, but in having a lifetime of hard work, consistently misunderstood, truly recognized and cherished by someone.

It struck a chord in his heart, like drinking mellow wine.

That wooden old man, who had been drinking without expression from beginning to end, stood up and came to the window, where the view was wide open, as if opening the window to let in the great river.

On the Niujiao Ferry side, Old Immortal Jia cautiously asked, “Mountain Lord, did this poor Daoist say anything inappropriate or unsuitable?”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “Chen Lingjun didn’t say wrong, Old Immortal Jia is invincible at the wine table.”