(Wishing everyone a Happy New Year, and may you be safe and sound. Mwah!)

The shadows of trees danced, casting a verdant hue upon their faces.

Just moments ago, Yu Shiwu and Ma Yanshan each experienced a dream. Yu Shiwu dreamed he was a butterfly of Qiyuan, ensnared by a spiderweb, regretting his emergence from the cocoon.

Ma Yanshan dreamt of a night spent with a beauty, drunkenly sojourning on a small boat, when a lone crane crossed the river, its cry a startling awakening. He awoke to find two Daoists in feathered robes, gracefully descending together.

Ma Yanshan felt he had encountered a genuine immortal.

He had witnessed the secret arts displayed by the enshrined masters of his clan, yet in his eyes, they remained mere mortals with slightly greater strength and a few magical tricks. They were far from the true recluses he envisioned.

The Daoist raised his horsetail whisk and said, “Fellow Daoist Yu, I trust you do not resent my forceful invitation?”

Yu Shiwu laughed magnanimously, “It was I who broke our agreement first. Master Chen is well within his rights to chide me.”

Chen Ping’an remarked, “Had you been a wild cultivator from the mountains, I doubt you would possess such composure.”

Yu Shiwu smiled without a word, feigning ignorance of the barb hidden within the words.

Chen Ping’an turned to Ma Yanshan, “Ma Kuxuan’s decision to protect only you from this den of resentment was not without reason.”

Having reviewed the accounts, he saw that while Ma Yanshan was dissolute, he was not malicious. His actions were often absurd, but his hands were clean, and his heart was not black.

Such a pampered son of privilege would normally be considered of little value, at best refraining from heinous acts. However, in the Usha Lane Ma Clan, which held few worthy individuals, Ma Yanshan stood out as an anomaly. Truly, a man’s worth is like a feast – dependent on the praise of others.

Recalling Yu Shiwu’s earlier address, “Master Chen?”, Ma Yanshan finally realized the truth. “You are Chen Ping’an?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “Indeed.”

Hearing the answer he least wished to hear, Ma Yanshan paradoxically felt a sense of relief. “Destiny is destiny; it cannot be avoided.” He inquired, “Where is this place?”

Chen Ping’an smiled. “Beside Handan Road, where fame and fortune clash. A dream upon a porcelain pillow, a yellow millet dream. Truth and falsehood lie within you; falsehood and truth reside within me.”

Ma Yanshan was bewildered.

Yu Shiwu provided a clear answer. “We are within Master Chen’s inner world. It can be said to be false, yet it can also be said to be true. The line between truth and falsehood is determined by Master Chen’s will.”

Ma Yanshan asked, “Does Master Chen seek vengeance against our Ma Clan? Am I the first to be dealt with?”

Chen Ping’an chuckled. “You do not warrant such attention. I seek Yu Shiwu, who broke his word. Ma Yanshan is merely an addition.”

Yu Shiwu inquired, “Even after personally slaying the enemy and returning with his head, Master Chen still finds his vengeance incomplete?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Yu Shiwu, you are a decent man. You regard Ma Kuxuan as a close friend. You have offered your counsel, your aid, and even risked your life. Such friendship is rare. True Martial Mountain is a venerable sect. If you are willing to cease your involvement, I will overlook your past actions. I will even allow you to leave this place with Ma Yanshan. As for whether Ma Yanshan will enter True Martial Mountain and seek revenge, I can speak plainly. It is of no concern to me. It is up to you.”

Yu Shiwu smiled faintly. “In matters of friendship, I am far inferior to Master Chen’s trusted companions. Having witnessed those bound by the Hidden Rules, one can entrust them with both their family and their life.”

Chen Ping’an frowned. “You are still not willing to yield?”

Yu Shiwu clasped his hands together, resting them on his knees. “Things have come to this; how dare I continue to interfere? It would be both pointless and meaningless.”

Yu Shiwu exhaled a soft cloud of mist. “As an observer, allow me to offer Master Chen a reminder: your failure to slay Gu Can in the past will come at a great cost.”

Chen Ping’an laughed. “If you dare, speak those words to Gu Can himself. He currently resides in the imperial palace of Yu Xuan Kingdom. It is along your path.”

Yu Shiwu shook his head. “I dare not.”

He would rather provoke Chen Ping’an than incur the enmity of Gu Can.

Yu Shiwu inquired with a voice only Chen Ping’an could hear, “Could you spare Ma Kuxuan’s life?”

Chen Ping’an replied, “You and I both know that his fate rests on his own decision.”

Yu Shiwu watched the dissipating mist and asked, “May I witness the fates of the Ma Clan?”

Chen Ping’an refused. “No.”

My polite courtesy is not a reason for you to be impudent.

Yu Shiwu persisted. “I possess some Golden Essence Coins. Consider it payment to watch the play. Each viewing of a person’s fate will cost one coin.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Fellow Daoist Yu speaks with confidence. Do you know how many descendants the Ma Clan possesses? Is this your ‘several Golden Essence Coins’?”

Yu Shiwu smiled. “After all, I am a Jade Purity realm cultivator. Opportunities for spending are few, hence, I possess a small surplus.”

“What is the significance of observing these tales of others?”

“Master Chen and I are fundamentally different. You, at a young age, have traversed countless mountains and rivers, while I have spent my years in secluded cultivation, rarely venturing down the mountain. I wish to take this opportunity to observe the myriad aspects of life. Wealth is but a material possession, brought into this world and taken from it. Master Chen need not suspect any ulterior motive. If you doubt me, I can swear an oath.”

Ma Yanshan heard this and thought, according to the books, skipping the oath is a sign of mutual understanding. However, the Chen Master directly said, “Then swear an oath.”

Yu Shiwu truly vowed before the ancestral hall of True Martial Mountain.

Afterwards, Yu Shiwu took out a Golden Essence Coin from his sleeve and gently placed it on the floor between them.

Chen Ping’an gestured towards Ma Yanshan with his chin and chuckled. “Fellow Daoist Yu, since you are so wealthy, why not share the joy?”

Yu Shiwu chuckled, and then took another Golden Essence Coin, stacking it on top of the first.
The courtyard was thick with mist, the locust tree vanished, replaced by the scene of Black Gauze Lane. Hawkers passed by, carrying shoulder poles with small charcoal stoves, plying the trade of sugar figurine blowing, along with those crafting dough figurines, puppet shows, and shadow plays. There was even a mendicant monk, carrying a statue of Wei Tuo on his back, his face gaunt, eyes clear, passing through the lane. To Ma Yanshan, this was a normal scene of bustling city life, only the passage of time seemed accelerated, like a patchwork… a “dust heap painting.”

Then the scene shifted. Beside Black Gauze Lane, in the depths of winter, the wind whipped at the large cloth banner of a roadside wineshop. Inside, hung an antique cricket cage. The wineshop owner was a young widow of considerable charm. Ma Yanshan immediately recognized her: the mother of Ma Lu. Ma Lu was the most promising martial artist among the younger generation of the Ma family, having soaked in medicinal baths for over a decade, constantly honing his physique. He even became a disciple of a Jade Xuan Kingdom general, embarking on the path of the martial arts examination. However, the woman before him was younger, her identity altered. She was no longer the imperious, shrewd old woman who secretly lent money at exorbitant rates. This woman’s complexion was sallow, lacking luster. It was as if she had never been young, her skin never fair, her cheeks never flushed with embarrassment. Youthful charms had vanished without a trace. Who among the men still remembered her youthful beauty?

Despite the freezing weather, the wineshop was crowded. Ma Yanshan gradually recognized them: lowly servants of the Ma manor, perhaps sedan chair carriers or carriage drivers. But in the “present” of the wineshop, they were either groping the woman or spouting lewd remarks. Among them was a man who had come to collect debts, insisting that the woman sit with him and drink. He grinned frequently, perhaps thinking himself witty, or perhaps because he sported a gold tooth. When his suggestive glances failed, he spoke in a low voice, telling her that if she took him to the kitchen in the back, he would waive the interest for the month. The woman staunchly refused. The man, who hadn’t tasted a morsel of pleasure in a long time, slapped her hard across the face.

The woman’s child, still in elementary school, tried to demand justice for his mother. The man returned the favor with a resounding blow. Cursing and threatening, the man vowed to sell her into a brothel as a clandestine prostitute if she didn’t repay the debt. The woman, her cheeks swollen and red, dared not say anything, nor did she dare report to the authorities. Her eyes were vacant as she sat on the ground, embracing her poor child whose lips were bleeding. This woman with a life of hardship had long ceased to ponder right and wrong, or the blessings and curses of tomorrow.

A middle-aged Taoist priest, carrying a copper coin sword on his back, smiled and asked, “Shall we continue watching, or would you like to see another painting?”

Yu Shiwu nodded. “Let’s switch to another painting.”

The Taoist said, “Then let’s settle the account first.”

Yu Shiwu turned to ask, “Yanshan, how many people in the painting are from your Ma family?”

Ma Yanshan gave a number: six.

Yu Shiwu was quick to pay, producing twelve gold-essence copper coins in one go.

“Actually, it’s eight.”

The Taoist corrected with a smile. “It’s not good for a family to be too large; you can’t even recognize your own kin. No matter, the four copper coins will be a complimentary bonus.”

A reed marsh grew wild by the water’s edge, lush and lovely. As people passed by, unknown birds would often take flight with a start, their emerald plumage swift as arrows. Officials, leading a group of exiled prisoners, trudged along the muddy road. The prisoners were all burdened with heavy shackles, strung together with a rope like grasshoppers, struggling to walk.

On the water was a decorated boat, three stories high, where a banquet was in full swing. Attentive sleeves offered wine, golden cups clinked in a shared toast, jade fingers plucked at the pipa, warbling melodies and fragrant perfumes mingling with the rich aroma of wine. Someone noticed the scene on the shore, and a noble young master immediately ordered servants to bring broken silver coins. He had the pleasure boat draw closer to the shore, and the women threw the coins at the prisoners. Hitting one would earn a tael of gold.

Yu Shiwu asked, “Ma Yanshan?”

Ma Yanshan was lost in thought. Hearing the question, he snapped back to reality, his expression complex. “Only two. One on the boat, one on the shore. In the Ma family, they are father and son.”

Yu Shiwu then took out four gold-essence copper coins and said to the “middle-aged Taoist priest with a sword and duster,” “You can change it.”

<换源app>

Later, a queen from a military family, but with a jealous nature, in the imperial harem where the concubines’ skin was like snow and their hair piled high in cloud-like styles, merely because the emperor had stealthily touched the hand of a palace maid, the next day the emperor received a box containing the palace maid’s pale white hands. She even had a favored concubine bound before her, flaying her eyes and cutting off her breasts… torturing her to death. Especially the final scene, the venomous queen had a group of robust women bring wooden mallets… Ma Yanshan’s face was paler than the palace maid’s hands, and he almost vomited on the spot.

Yu Shiwu couldn’t help but ask, “Is it always such a tragic state of affairs?”

The Taoist said, “There are also some bland scenes, but I was worried that Daoist Yu would feel he was wasting his money, so I deliberately selected these few paintings. Next will be that the queen will suffer divine retribution and be demoted into a giant serpent, occupying the mountains and causing mischief. A group of mixed-gender snake catchers will use smoke to force her out of the cave, then chop her to death with chaotic knives. Her gall will be dissected and soaked in medicinal wine. In her next life, she will still be reborn as a woman, die suddenly, and have her tomb robbed by a group of villains who separate her bones and sell them to fishermen by the sea. Some of her white bones will be used on ships, according to custom, to suppress the tides when sailing. An eye for an eye, karmic retribution is infallible. As for why the concubine suffered this calamity, there are her own causes and effects, but you missed them. If you want to see them, you can rewind the painting. As for the identities of the emperor, queen, and concubine, you can ask Ma Yanshan; he will definitely recognize them this time. Shall we continue watching, or change it?”

Yu Shiwu remained silent, simply continuing to take out money. Ma Yanshan’s mind was shaken, sweat already soaking his clothes, and he said in a trembling voice, “Change the painting, change it quickly.”

He wanted the Ma family, from top to bottom, to hate each other.

But that was not all; he also wanted certain people to hate themselves.

In a rural area, children often flew kites in the graveyard, beside a grove of low trees where quail or turtledoves called and pecked at the tender branches.

Thousands of mountains were covered in snow, the tree blossoms a pure white. A young nobleman in his prime sat in a small cart, dragging ice from the mountains back to the city.
Beneath the bean arbors and melon trellises, two women, generations apart, whispered secrets. “Auntie, you are beautiful.” “I was even more so in the past.”

The young girl’s clear voice resembled the oriole perched on a branch. The woman’s voice was soft and alluring, like a fallen petal.

There stood a majestic, towering verdant mountain, seemingly sprung from the earth itself, remaining steadfast for millennia. Within its embrace resided an ancient mountain sect. The immortal ladies of the abode, during the scorching summer months, favored jade hibiscus coronets, earning them the moniker “Cooling Crowns.” A celestial-faced, jade-like, genius cultivator, upon returning from worldly trials, harbored a deep, unrequited love for the daughter of his sworn enemy. As the peach blossoms faded and plum blossoms emerged, her whereabouts remained unknown. Suddenly, like a dream, clarity dawned by the traveler’s window, and he glimpsed a familiar figure, her silhouette like a homeward-bound crow in the twilight.

It seemed that knowledge could be slowly accumulated, but talent was innate. A prodigiously gifted but impoverished youth, relying solely on his “intelligence,” remained oblivious to the ways of the world. While lamenting that history painted every treacherous minister as a genius, he unwittingly offended countless individuals, never realizing what he had said wrong. He merely bemoaned heaven’s jealousy of his talent, resigning himself to a life of mediocrity. The restaurant where he often ran up debts would raise prices whenever he wrote the menu. He loved wine, practically addicted to it, but his desires for women were ordinary. Like wandering through a temple fair, he didn’t look at women, nor did they look at him.

Yu Shiwu continued to count out coins, several stacks of golden-tinged copper coins “towering” between them.

“So? After seeing these scenes, do you find them all uninteresting? Of course, if you patiently watch all the way through, there’s still something to chew on.”

The Daoist smiled faintly. “Ma Yanshan, would you like to see the paintings that originally belonged to you? Relax, they’re free, no charge.”

Ma Yanshan felt a chill run down his spine, frantically shaking his head.

But his wishes were not to be granted. With a flick of his horsetail whisk, the Daoist unfurled a painting.

Traditionally, old women or middle-aged women would walk the streets and alleys, buying up discarded clothes from various households. But in the painting, there was a young man in ill-fitting clothes, ankles exposed, carrying a basket, hawking his wares in an alleyway. Seeing this would inevitably make one feel pity.

“The remaining two lives are comparatively more dramatic. In a blessed land, you were an invincible martial arts grandmaster, having accumulated two cycles of sixty years of inner force. With a slight surge of that power, a sword-like aura would extend a few inches, causing emperors, generals, and martial arts heroes to regard you as a terrestrial sword immortal from the annals. Then, upon leaving the blessed land, you encountered a Qi cultivator from the lower five realms, and a small conflict arose, resulting in your death. It seems that a sword aura doesn’t belong in this book of gods and demons.”

“As for the second life, I cut corners. It overlaps with the fate of the talent who disliked women, except I changed your destiny in middle age, allowing you to become acquainted with and befriend a prince in hiding. Within three years, you rose to prominence. In that chaotic world, heroes killed overlords, overlords killed heroes, or heroes killed heroes, overlords killed heroes. Would you like to see the final years of this kind of life? There will be a nice turnaround, something your mind would never expect.”

Hearing this, Ma Yanshan asked, “Chen Ping’an, can you erase these memories of mine?”

What if everyone “awoke” and retained all the related memories? Wouldn’t the Ma family members then become something far more than just “mutually resentful, a chaotic mess?”

Ma Yanshan even began to worry that once they all awakened, they would start killing each other without Chen Ping’an needing to lift a finger—literally.

The Daoist flicked his sleeves, extended his hand, cupped like a bowl, and a white porcelain bowl appeared out of thin air in his hand, filled with something that rippled slightly, whether water or wine. “Barely clever.”

“Daoist Yu, your copper coin formation isn’t set up yet. Can you give us a straight answer? How much longer do we have to wait?”

“You may all know that when I was young, I was chased by a mountain-moving ape from Zheng Yang Mountain in my hometown. But my killing of Cai Jinjian is something you probably don’t know.”

“If you want to enter the hall of array mastery, the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven, before it falls to earth, is the best ‘manuscript.’ So, apart from Liu Zhimao and the others who were in the midst of it all, we must make up a few sessions of humbly seeking advice from them on how they were suppressed to the point of not daring to use any spiritual energy back in the town. Originally, I chose Zhong Chang, but now I’ll have to trouble Daoist Yu to take a ‘detour’ to Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven to verify the effect, gradually filling in the gaps.”

“Yu Shiwu, who gave you the guts, as a Jade Purity Realm Qi cultivator, to dare tamper with a peak martial artist sitting right next to you?”

“This is the third time. Third time’s the limit. Small punishment and big warning, that’s enough. Yu Shiwu, go to sleep.”

Ma Yanshan turned to look at the only lifeline. For some reason, without the “Daoist” making any movement at all, Yu Shiwu had already drooped his head, fast asleep.

Chen Ping’an reached out and grabbed a kettle full of boiling water, handing it to Ma Yanshan. “Go, pour it on that ant nest.”

Ma Yanshan retreated in shock.

Chen Ping’an sneered, “Just because those ants have names and are related to you, you feel unable to bear it, and dare not do it?”

Ma Yanshan was ashen-faced.

Chen Ping’an said calmly, “It’s strange. I don’t see these ants having any compassion when they do such things.”

“It seems that in your eyes, in this world, there is everything but people.”

The Nascent Soul Realm old woman, Pu Liu, could no longer tell if she was an accomplice or a helper of the young Hidden Official.

Shen Ke was still stuck in a ghost wall in the capital of Yu Xuan Kingdom. The old Grandmaster Shen was amenable to advice, and quickly found some handy weapons, slashing until the blades were all rolled up, but no matter how he slashed, he was always slashing Shen Ke killing Shen Ke. That Sword Immortal Chen had used some insidious… divine art, the pain of the killed could be clearly felt by Shen Ke. This forced Shen Ke to kill not only to protect himself, but also to kill as quickly as possible.

The Knife-Owing Man Zhong Chang had already left this den of strife. What the Ma family of Xinghua Lane owed him would eventually be repaid, just like the town’s saying, “Put it aside for now.”

Yu Qing remained in the immortal abode ruins, continuing to accompany the “Patchwork Artisan” Xiao Xing. Somehow, this former injustice rectifier, whose real name was Gongsun, felt that it would be difficult for him to leave. Because whether it was the barbarian female cultivator or the eccentric Daoist with the crown “Ren Gongzi”, they were all too sincere when speaking to her, so sincere that they treated her like family.
The Ma family members, Ma Chuan and Ma Bi, each had their own destinies, and the malice they inflicted upon the world was repaid several times over within the illusory realm.

However, the sins they committed in the real world could not be erased with a simple change of heart. Such fortunate events simply do not exist.

The “female scholar” encountered Jiang Gui, the private tutor of her family, in the imperial garden. The latter’s words left Ma Che dumbfounded.

Jiang Gui was naturally acting under orders, coming here to “enlighten” Ma Che. But before this, he could never have imagined that worldly experience could be like this.

Observers are clear-headed, hence they are even more fearful of the Sword Immortal Chen’s methods.

What followed left Jiang Gui feeling even more awkward. The Emperor had actually rushed over, deliberately dismissing his eunuchs and attendants, and first telling National Preceptor Jiang to mind his own business, then chasing after the female scholar with a beaming smile. Ma Che, now able to speak, began to explain this absurd situation to the infatuated Emperor, or rather, to himself. Unexpectedly, the “him” laughed heartily, praising “her” for her whimsical ideas. Ma Che finally lost all hope and crashed headfirst into the artificial hill… In the next moment, she collided with the Emperor, merging into one. Ma Che collapsed to the ground, utterly miserable. Was this the end of her predicament, or just the prelude to something even more terrible?

At that moment, Ma Che saw the green-robed swordsman standing beside Jiang Gui.

Ma Che felt as if she had seen something even more terrifying than “herself,” and the smell of urine filled the air again.

Chen Ping An asked, “In Master Jiang’s opinion, could Ma Che have a prosperous career? If he were to become a high-ranking official or a regional governor, what would the outcome be?”

Jiang Gui cautiously replied, “Ma Che would definitely become a high official, and his reputation would likely be quite good.”

Chen Ping An suddenly asked, “Jiang Gui isn’t your real name, is it?”

The ghostly scholar honestly answered, “My real name is Guan Kui. My ancestral home is in a small prefecture of the old Zhu Ying Dynasty. In my youth, I aspired to the Dao. Because my family was fairly wealthy, I enjoyed traveling to famous mountains and rivers. I was fortunate enough to meet my master, who took me as his direct disciple. Then I severed ties with the world and became the patriarch of that small sect. Later, my sect’s disciples offended a great figure, and both sides acted without restraint. In the end, we angered someone we couldn’t afford to offend. As for my fate, I was killed by a sword cultivator of the Dugu clan, venting his anger. My soul barely escaped, and I dared not stay in the Zhu Ying Dynasty. Ghosts have an even harder time than rogue cultivators. I thought about going to Shujian Lake to establish a sect and claim a territory, or to join Gongliu Island, but Liu Laocheng wasn’t on the island at the time. It was during the peak of True Lord of Interception Liu Z茂茂’s power. But after thinking it over, I still felt that joining Liu Laocheng would be more beneficial, so I traveled north. If only I had stayed in Shujian Lake for a few more years. It seems that no matter who I joined, the outcome would have been good. Anyway, now it’s all part of the True Realm Sect.”

He spoke too much, fearing that Sword Immortal Chen would lose patience; he spoke too little, fearing that he would be seen as lacking sincerity.

Chen Ping An said, “Every family has its own troubles.”

Guan Kui said, “I am not making this up. There is no falsehood in my words. In the twenty years I’ve been in this Ma household, I have only taught and done no evil.”

Chen Ping An smiled, “Actually, we are in the same line of work.”

Guan Kui was confused.

“But you can’t be considered a good teacher. After all your teaching, you only produced the Ma Chuan and Ma Bi brothers. As for Ma Che, who is recognized by the court as a child prodigy in the imperial examination, he doesn’t need your teaching.”

“Mountain Lord Chen is absolutely right.”

“By the way, is it because your master’s surname is Jiang, and your sect has the character ‘Gui’ in its name, that you used the alias Jiang Gui? I didn’t expect you to be such a nostalgic person.”

Guan Kui sighed, sincerely convinced, and clasped his hands, “Mountain Lord Chen is truly knowledgeable, knowing so much about even my small Jade Gui Palace.”

Inside the palace, National Preceptor Huang Lie stood with his hands behind his back, unhurriedly walking towards the gate of the Yangcui Hall, with its golden glazed tiles. Along the way, the vermilion pillars and doors, the exquisite eaves painted in blue, green, and jade, along with the jade-white stone steps, never failed to please him. He occasionally regretted being a Qi Refiner with only minor achievements in cultivation. If he were the Emperor, wearing the dragon robe and sitting on the dragon throne, what a different experience it would be. Huang Lie put aside these thoughts and peered inside at the Confucian scholar youth who had “taken over the nest.”

Based on appearance alone, the old man couldn’t recognize who the other party was. He didn’t seem to match any of the figures he had guessed. Of course, he couldn’t rule out the possibility that the other party was using illusion techniques.

The seemingly gentle and refined Confucian scholar was sitting near the Emperor’s throne, adorned with gilded lacquer and dragon patterns.

That person looked up, his gaze fixed on the dragon carved at the center of the caisson ceiling, its head lowered, holding a precious pearl in its mouth.

Huang Lie tentatively asked, “Is Immortal Master an unlisted offering, a guest elder of Fallen Mountain?”

Gu Can retracted his gaze, shook his head, and smiled, “I couldn’t possibly be a Fallen Mountain offering or guest elder.”

Huang Lie then asked, “May I ask Immortal Master, is this trip just passing through to admire the scenery, or…?”

Gu Can smiled, “Old Mister, are you here to advise me to leave quickly, or else what will happen?”

Huang Lie laughed and said, “No need to rush. Immortal Master can freely enjoy the palace’s pastries and fruits before leaving. I believe His Majesty has already instructed the imperial kitchen to prepare them. They will arrive immediately with Immortal Master’s nod.”

Gu Can walked to a golden pillar entwined with dragons in the main hall and tapped it a few times with his finger, clicking his tongue and saying, “Not to mention a Golden Core Earth Immortal, I’ve never even seen gold before.”

Huang Lie simply squatted outside the hall door, allowing the unidentified interloper to wander around. It didn’t matter if he tapped the pillars a few times; he could even move them away if he wanted to. It was all negotiable.

Gu Can turned to look at the door and smiled, “Speaking of the imperial kitchen, I’m reminded of something. I’ve read some of the palace documents that have been scattered outside, and I learned that the Emperors often ate tripe and offal. Don’t the literati of your Yu Xuan kingdom say that if they are invited to a restaurant and see offal in a mutton hotpot, it’s like being slapped in the face? And some with bad tempers will even storm off in anger?”

The old man chuckled, “This is the first time I’ve heard of such a thing. I’ve learned something new.”

If it were any other place, Huang Lie would gladly invite this person to a restaurant to chat over those words.

“Why is Senior willing to work here? Isn’t the South better?”
“Indeed, several small nations to the south made offers, but the Xue Clan of Jade Promulgation Kingdom offered the most coin.”

Outside the ancestral hall of the Ma Clan.

Ma Ku-xuan inquired, “Chen Ping’an, shall we settle this with a fight to the death, or should we warm up first with a best two out of three? A Jade Purity Realm swordsman facing an Immortal Realm cultivator outside of swordsmanship isn’t entirely hopeless. A Peak Martial Artist facing an immortal has even better odds. Then, in the final match, we can both unleash our full power?”

Seeing that the fellow remained silent as ever, looking at him as if he were an idiot, Ma Ku-xuan chuckled, “Don’t trust me? Afraid I’ll pull out my trump card in the first or second round?”

“You underestimate Apricot Blossom Lane’s Ma Ku-xuan too much. Anything I say is more binding than a cultivator’s oath.”

“Chen Ping’an, you like to learn by imitation, don’t you? Such a golden opportunity is right before your eyes. Aren’t you going to take it while you can?”

Chen Ping’an now wore a scarlet robe that resembled an immortal’s shed skin, smiling slightly, “What Ma Ku-xuan? You should be called Ma Xuan.”

Ma Ku-xuan’s expression darkened.

Chen Ping’an stated, “Just because she once advised your parents, this matter has nothing to do with her.”

Ma Ku-xuan grinned, “I trust you. We’re kindred spirits.”

Chen Ping’an smiled amiably, “Ma Ku-xuan, your mouth is still as foul as ever. Something I can’t seem to learn.”

Ma Ku-xuan, whose “good intentions were wasted,” instead beamed, “Chen Ping’an, let me tell you something from the heart: Pearl Diver Grotto Heaven only needed the two of us. If it weren’t for you and I needing to repay our debts, wouldn’t two Fourteenth Realm experts be enough for such a small patch of land someday?”

Chen Ping’an, clad in his scarlet robe, stood leisurely and slowly adopted a boxing stance, “A fist technique learned from Cao Ci, called ‘Dragon Clears the Ditch’. It’s not light.”

Ma Ku-xuan frowned slightly.

Chen Ping’an said, “Winning three matches is the same as winning five, so there’s no need for so much trouble.”