Yu Shiwu was silent for a moment, then asked curiously, “Can you control the speed at which time flows in this world?”

Chen Ping’an remained silent. In an instant, Yu Shiwu’s eyes beheld a strange phenomenon. The heavy snow abruptly ceased, and in the blink of an eye, spring arrived, flowers bloomed, and swallows soared. Groups of children flew kites on the riverbank. Then came the continuous plum rains, followed by the summer floods, the river swelling greatly. On a clear moonlit night, the river surface was still as glass, its ripples like painted lines. A ferryman, seemingly a divine immortal or a spirit, thinner than a bamboo stalk, his Daoist robe as white as wild clouds, stood upon a single leaf of a boat. Without a boatman to pole, his robes fluttered as he flew across the river. The autumn wind rustled, and villagers noisily carried bamboo cages containing men and women to the riverbank. Finally, winter returned with heavy goose feather snow. To Yu Shiwu, the observer, the changing seasons and local customs were like pages of a book being flipped rapidly, his body fully perceiving the changes in temperature. Just as Yu Shiwu was convinced that Chen Ping’an could freely control the river of time, Chen Ping’an suddenly raised his hand, hovering it before Yu Shiwu’s eyes, and snapped his fingers. “Have you heard of ‘a leaf blocking the eye’?”

As he spoke, Yu Shiwu was shocked to find himself and Chen Ping’an in a pitch-black night where one could not see their own fingers. Chen Ping’an smiled. “A leaf blocking the eye. Since this leaf can make people blind, it can also make them see what I want them to see. It’s merely a matter of a craftsman carving a miniature world on the leaf. Compared to painstakingly creating a flawless small world, wouldn’t it be easier, faster, cheaper, and less troublesome to tamper with your vision?”

Just as Yu Shiwu was beginning to believe him, Chen Ping’an pulled him back to “the original spot,” catching a snowflake in his hand. He muttered to himself, “Earlier, while attending the Confucian Temple meeting, I had the good fortune to stroll with Mister Zheng for a while near a ferry crossing. During that time, Mister Zheng said something strange that I still can’t believe to this day. He said, ‘I once saw two identical snowflakes.'”

Yu Shiwu bent down and picked up some thin stones from the riverbank, skipping them across the water, creating a series of unconnected ripples, with droplets of water blooming in succession from large to small.

At that moment, a beautiful young woman wreathed in mist emerged gracefully from the water, dressed in green robes and a yellow coronet, standing tall and elegant. She announced that anyone who could guess her name could marry into her water mansion.

Yu Shiwu glanced at Chen Ping’an, wondering what this was all about. Guessing riddles? Chen Ping’an smiled and reminded him, “Gaining water, one can become an immortal. Green sleeves, yellow coronet. I cannot give you more clues than that, Fellow Daoist.”

The water fairy looked at Yu Shiwu with eager expectation, but he remained as dense as an uncarved block of wood. She waited for a moment, but no answer came. She sighed softly. “A water fairy comes from the depths, with green sleeves and a yellow coronet of Bai Yuying. I, Yuying, regret our missed fate. I shall take my leave first. Farewell for now.”

Yu Shiwu, wanting to regain some face, pointed to Chen Ping’an beside him and asked, “Why does the fairy favor me over my friend here? Why not ask him?”

She smiled. “I judge by appearances.”

Yu Shiwu laughed heartily.

Chen Ping’an remained composed.

After the water fairy returned to the water, Chen Ping’an teased, “Fellow Daoist Yu, you need to read more books. You just missed a good marriage!”

Yu Shiwu asked, “When are you going to restore my true form and cultivation?”

He was fairly certain that his current body was a rare form of “astral projection,” and his true body was being held captive or suppressed by Chen Ping’an somewhere.

Regaining his memories felt like… an empty shell, like an empty water jar, being filled with water scooped from a jar next door.

Chen Ping’an smiled. “What’s the rush? Haste makes waste. Just think of me as a pawnbroker.”

A pawnbroker?

Upon closer inspection, it was indeed a fitting analogy. A good metaphor.

Yu Shiwu said, “Then let’s switch identities. Let’s see how you like it.”

Chen Ping’an was silent, then turned to smile at Yu Shiwu.

Yu Shiwu’s heart trembled.

Could it be?

Was “Yu Shiwu” actually Chen Ping’an, and the “Chen Ping’an” before him the real himself?

Chen Ping’an patted Yu Shiwu on the shoulder, unable to suppress his amusement. “Don’t be nervous. I don’t have Mister Zheng’s abilities, not yet.”

Yu Shiwu felt inexplicably anxious. He wanted to accept things as they were, but the sights and sounds he had encountered along the way were bizarre and unbelievable, far beyond what could be described as “fresh perspectives.” Furthermore, dragging on like this, with neither hands on the sky nor feet on the ground, made Yu Shiwu feel unsettled. Chen Ping’an smiled and reassured him, “Don’t worry, I won’t stay here long. I’ll take you to see a few more places. Then you can decide whether you want to join me and do something different together. As soon as you nod, I’ll leave this place…” Hearing this, Yu Shiwu asked, “What if I never agree?” Chen Ping’an replied with a smile, “Didn’t I say, haste makes waste? That applies to you, and it certainly applies to me.” Yu Shiwu was filled with helplessness. This fellow was clearly planning to wear him down, to see who could outlast the other. Afterwards, Yu Shiwu saw a painting. In the painting was a young scholar, carrying his books and studying at the temple, staying up late into the night. Exhausted, he fell asleep at his desk. His thoughts rose above his head like wisps of incense smoke, forming a scroll of clouds. The contents of his dream appeared as a painting within the clouds: the man dreamt of a beautiful young maiden playing castanets and singing a clear song. Rare flowers and exotic plants grew beside the stones around the house, and a donkey drank water from a trough. Next to it stood a towering tree, with a crescent moon hanging in its branches. Within the moon was a tiny Guanghan Palace, as small as a mustard seed. Inside the spotless celestial palace, a lonely fairy was applying makeup before a mirror. Besides the fairy’s face, the mirror also reflected the image of a painting on the wall of the house, a picture of the scholar sleeping at his desk, resembling the cyclical San-Jie pattern of a Go game.

Chen Ping’an explained to Yu Shiwu, “The Go masters here only need to refer to those thousands of Go scores to make their moves. They can follow the rules, like copying words from a book. Different players are provided with different levels of Go scores. If you don’t personally play the game, it’s enough to let you watch for years without finding any flaws. As for the roadside chess games commonly seen in the city, they’re all based on incomplete chess puzzles, all seemingly tricky set positions, making them even easier to set up. Of course, these methods, in the end, are all following the paths of predecessors, taking shortcuts. They are clever tricks. Nothing truly original.”
Yu Shiwu furrowed his brow and asked, “Suppose I wasn’t initially aware of entering an illusion, but harbored doubts, and I happen to be a master of Go?”

Chen Pingan replied, “Then you wouldn’t enter this world. For instance, you might wander into a realm where Go hasn’t yet emerged. Once you find yourself there, if you’re in the mood, you could become the progenitor of the art. Wouldn’t that joy possibly dispel some of your doubts?”

Yu Shiwu shook his head, “A scribe’s error, a single misplaced word, and ambiguity abounds.”

Chen Pingan smiled, “When copying calligraphy, are you learning the brushstrokes or the knife strokes?”

Yu Shiwu changed the subject, “Limited by the foundation of your true form, are the ‘qualities’ of these illusory worlds… not very high? The deer-riding immortal and the water sprite maiden from earlier, are those already the pinnacle of your magic? Including me, and the former masters of those immortal abodes, does the ‘one’ obtained by adding all the truths together, inevitably remain below the total amount of spiritual energy stored within your current realm? Can I understand it this way, that the aggregate of us ‘people,’ along with the mountains and rivers, is approximately equal to you?”

Chen Pingan chuckled, “Right and wrong.”

Yu Shiwu seemed to grasp a spark of inspiration, and pursued the question, “These myriad arrangements, broadly speaking, are merely equivalent to a low-grade blessed land created by you?”

Chen Pingan said, “Wait and see.”

The marketplace, the martial world, the imperial court, and finally, the ethereal mountains. Like a craftsman honing his skills, progressing gradually from the easy to the difficult.

But if his skill stops there, then at most it’s just a top-tier imitation of a blank-slate blessed land. In the eyes of the mountain peak cultivators, it’s naturally hard to call it “creation.”

Therefore, Yu Shiwu soon saw a towering mountain peak, seemingly the origin of all the dragon veins in the world. There, an old man, bare-chested and large-bellied, his face obscured by swirling mists, snored thunderously. With each exhale, he spewed forth brilliantly colored natural treasures, drawing trails of shimmering light that scattered in all directions.

Yu Shiwu was stunned, and exclaimed, “If this isn’t an illusion, then it’s at least the standard of a mid-grade blessed land? Where did you get so much spiritual energy stored up?”

Chen Pingan said, “To be honest, my Falling Phoenix Mountain isn’t lacking in resources.”

After all, his journey to the outer heavens with the Sage of Rites was quite rewarding.

Yu Shiwu, as if possessed, blurted out, “If, and I mean if, you were to collect all the golden body fragments of humanity, wouldn’t you then…”

Saying this, Yu Shiwu shook his head. It was too far-fetched. If it were to succeed, wouldn’t Chen Pingan be able to rebuild the Heavenly Court of ten thousand years ago?

Unexpectedly, Chen Pingan said, “I’ve thought about it, but only in thought. Not only is the difficulty of this matter too great, almost destined to be an empty dream, but I also worry that such an action would fall into a cycle similar to the Three Tribulations. So I extinguished that inappropriate thought early on.”

Yu Shiwu clutched his head with both hands.

Chen Pingan said, “Do people who never doubt the reality of the world necessarily live in a real world? Do people who insist on questioning the reality of the world necessarily live in a false world?”

“Regarding the truth or falsehood of ‘me’, among the people I know, there are only two who most want to know the answer.”

“Lu Chen, Zheng Juzhong.”

“And the two most qualified to give the answer are also two.”

“The Buddha and the Dao Ancestor.”

Hearing this, Yu Shiwu cautiously asked, “Then what about the Supreme Sage Teacher?”

Chen Pingan thought for a moment and replied, “The Supreme Sage Teacher doesn’t seem to care much about this.”

Yu Shiwu was silent for a long time, and finally opened his heart for the first time, “I’ve actually known my ultimate fate for a long time.”

Ten thousand years ago, a joint execution.

Yu Shiwu bore an unbearable burden of karma. This, even for a cultivation genius like Yu Shiwu, was a kind of unspeakable suffering. For example, an ordinary teacher’s foresight might be buying an umbrella in preparation for a rainy day. But Yu Shiwu had to have the means to prevent the heavens from raining that day. How could he do that? So, over the years, Yu Shiwu had taken external matters very lightly. Like a certain character in the series of illusions seen at the inn on the left of Handan Road, the widowed landlady of the tavern, she no longer cared whether her fate would be good or bad tomorrow. Whenever Yu Shiwu thought of her, he thought of himself, and then he thought of the cloth banner outside the tavern, blowing in the wind.

Could all of this be Chen Pingan’s suggestion to him? A kind of… fortune-telling?

Perhaps guessing what Yu Shiwu was thinking, Chen Pingan said, “You’re like giving yourself a fortune reading. What next? Are you just going to wait for it to happen? Do you know the significance of fortune-telling for the common people in the marketplace? The significance lies in the fact that if a good fate is foretold, they can just proceed with peace of mind. If a bad fate is foretold, they must change their path of cultivation. They must rethink and get rid of certain habits. Therefore, cultivation never stops in the mountains. Without fate, there is no union; without debt, there is no arrival. How to turn a karmic debt into a good connection, how a creditor burns the IOU, how a debtor settles the debt, is everyone’s cultivation.”

Hearing these words, the sorrow on Yu Shiwu’s face faded.

Chen Pingan said, “I still have to ask you a question: Should the present body pay the debts of the past body, and does the present life need to be responsible for the future life?”

Yu Shiwu was at a loss.

Chen Pingan smiled, “Originally, there was another question, but let’s put it aside for now. It’s not too late to ask after you’ve figured out the answer to the first question.”

Yu Shiwu’s head swelled, and he waved his hand, “Don’t ask, don’t ask. Let’s quickly change places.”

It is not easy to cultivate and become an immortal. A place of cultivation with beautiful mountains and clear waters, with ancient immortal residences, emphasizes the combination of auspicious timing, geographical advantages, and human harmony.

The mountains and rivers should be beautiful, the origins and courses clear, and the spiritual energy should be pure and abundant, without turbid air. They arrived at an immortal dwelling, a woman’s boudoir? Cultivators, sitting on futons in the dojo, meditating with closed doors, or burning incense, or lighting talismans, are common timekeeping objects on the mountain, used to help Qi practitioners determine the major and minor heavenly cycles. It’s just that the decoration of the room is a bit too feminine. Empty, with no one around, the female master of this Qi practitioner must be temporarily absent. From looking at the mountain gate and the cliff carvings in the mountains, Yu Shiwu judged that this place should be called the Flower Core Peak of Qinwang Mountain.

At this time, this place, this scene, was like “the state of cessation.”

Yu Shiwu asked, “Is this one of your created ‘templates’ or ‘paradigms’ for the mountain immortals?”
Chen Ping’an nodded, “Therefore, compared to ordinary female cultivators, there are more decorative items in the room, appearing slightly cluttered and complex. However, it still aligns with her current status, age, and state of mind.”

“Seventeen years old. Before ascending the mountain, she hailed from a top aristocratic family. After joining the sect, she was doted upon by her elders and often descended the mountain for trials, possessing ample funds and never lacking money. In short, she could spend money without batting an eye in bustling shops, simply buying and buying.”

“Over the years, she often lamented her slightly darker skin and thicker eyebrows. Furthermore, she felt her face wasn’t slender enough. However, the mountain had its own customs, more profound than the ‘disfigurement’ of the mortal world. A senior sister once warned her against altering her face. Mortals with weak bodies and martial artists easily disperse their spiritual energy with frequent speech. Immortal cultivators, already blessed with good fortune, should never tamper with their facial features. In the long run, such alterations would inevitably lead to a losing bargain.”

Yu Shiwu casually picked up a small powder box made of Hetian jade, carved with a deer holding a spiritual fungus in its mouth, from the dressing table. The tool marks were clear, indicating its handcrafted nature. He asked, “In this world, where was the first ancient jade grinding wheel tool located?”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “You’ve asked a crucial question. You always claim to be ignorant of worldly affairs, but that’s an understatement.”

Yu Shiwu said, “Thanks to you, I’ve been able to travel the world for a thousand years. If I still didn’t pay attention to my surroundings, there would still be a few things I wouldn’t forget.”

Near the painting table, there was a screen with a sandalwood frame, along with a pair of white porcelain incense burners shaped like grand lions and young lions. By the window sill, three porcelain pots of narcissus were placed side by side.

It was truly a dazzling and diverse display.

Yu Shiwu’s gaze swept across them, “Do they all have origins?”

Chen Ping’an nodded, “They all have their own lineages and stories. Valuable antiques and treasures place great emphasis on an orderly provenance. Without a background story, they’re not as valuable. For example, the ‘Only Beauty Hall’ marked bridge-eared incense burner on the table, also known as the ‘Phoenix Eye’ burner, is inscribed with three characters, ‘Jiang Niangzi.’ It was bestowed by the founding emperor to the first chancellor of the Imperial Academy and is a family heirloom. Then there’s the jade bamboo fan bestowed by her sect. One side of the fan ribs is carved with eighteen arhats, lifelike and vivid. The other side is inscribed with the words, ‘Peaches ripen every three thousand years, a brush can bloom flowers in an instant. I once ate them above, still drunk for a day.’ The fan ribs are signed ‘Shoumei’ and ‘Mengji’ on either side, both renowned bamboo carving masters of the court. Among them, the most valuable item, in her opinion, is the incense burner. In reality, the true treasure of immortal fortune is the ancient bronze vanity mirror with the inscription ‘Wushan,’ which she picked up at a roadside stall last year. However, this item is quite dangerous because it’s a type of heterodox magical artifact here. Someday, she will realize that the ancient mirror is a secret realm, both sensuous and profound, capable of both romance and mystical arts.”

Yu Shiwu was deeply impressed.

“Actually, the most effort was put into this.”

Chen Ping’an tossed Yu Shiwu an album of paintings of beautiful women. Yu Shiwu caught it and flipped it open, revealing that each page depicted the same beautiful woman, but with different styles of makeup, hairpins, and dresses.

Yu Shiwu was both amused and exasperated. Chen Ping’an said in a serious tone, “Clothing, food, shelter, and travel, clothing comes first, it can’t be taken lightly.”

Yu Shiwu, seemingly unable to bear the strong scent of cosmetics, put down the album and gazed out the window, murmuring, “Chen Ping’an, if I had known this, I would have rather died than have a conflict with you.”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “You flatter me.”

Chen Ping’an picked up the album that Yu Shiwu had returned to its original position and casually asked, “Yu Shiwu, do you have any particular sense of accomplishment?”

Yu Shiwu shook his head, “You know that I take cultivation lightly and can’t muster much enthusiasm for anything. Zhenwu Mountain has its own traditions. Although I’m of a high seniority, I’ve never been required to take responsibility or shoulder burdens. Without hope or ambition, where would satisfaction or accomplishment come from? Chen Ping’an, what about you?”

Chen Ping’an smiled, “When I was young, it was being able to buy books without looking at the price. Also, being able to meet experts on the road and remain calm.”

Yu Shiwu nodded, “Counting every penny, earning money frugally, spending generously, giving freely, choosing as you wish, feeling great pleasure.”

As if recalling something, Yu Shiwu smiled meaningfully, “There’s a rumor that the young Hidden Official disguised himself as a woman during the battle outside the city, deceiving everyone to kill enemies and earn merit?”

Chen Ping’an didn’t even bother denying it, and said shamelessly, “People of the Jianghu don’t stand on ceremony.”

He remembered that the earliest leak of this insider information from the Sword Qi Great Wall seemed to have been Lu Zhi? Good deeds don’t go out, but bad news travels a thousand miles?

In order to dispel the impact of this rumor, Chen Ping’an had even come up with a method similar to diluting wine with water, which was to have Lin Junbi and those other handsome youths who rolled their eyes at the sky follow suit, but they all refused.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Where did you hear this rumor? Whose news is so well-informed?”

Yu Shiwu would naturally not foolishly reveal his source, and joked, “Are you planning to block the door first and then shut my mouth? If we can’t reach an agreement, will you kill me to silence me?”

Chen Ping’an said helplessly, “It won’t come to that.”

Yu Shiwu put away his smile and said in a deep voice, “I’ve thought about it. I’m willing to treat this place as a place for cultivation. Whether it’s escaping or changing my fate, I’ll trust you this once. Should I make an oath?”

Chen Ping’an waved his hand, “Some people’s oaths to the heavens are useless, but some people’s words are more useful than oaths, and you belong to the latter.”

Yu Shiwu, as if he had untied a knot in his heart, had a change in temperament, making his eyes and eyebrows brighter. He smiled and said, “I trust myself, but I can’t completely trust Mountain Lord Chen. You have to make an oath.”
Chen Ping’an merely smiled, this time deigning to speak with his mind, “Let’s make it clear beforehand, hiding here isn’t a foolproof plan, at best it’s an extra layer of buffer. First, I can only try my best to ensure you don’t die and your Dao vanishes. I’ll prevent others from deliberately hindering the return of what belongs to that being, preventing your sudden demise, forced dispersal of your Dao, or the use of unimaginable means to prematurely deal with Yu Shiwu’s physical form, soul, and those three portions of martial fortune. All to prevent that being from returning to its peak and replenishing its body. That’s regarding the schemers. Second, if the principal himself comes knocking, demanding what’s owed, I can only mediate, negotiate, and try to persuade him to retain your sanity and memories.”

Ten thousand years ago, humanity’s first true “Disassembly by the Dao” (兵解), was performed on the ancestral founder of the military strategists (兵家), who possessed both world-creating merit and the transgression of fragmentation. Because his merits and transgressions were irreconcilable, his body was divided into five parts, and his soul was imprisoned for ten thousand years. Humanity’s martial Dao began with him.

According to the clues Chen Ping’an had obtained and his deductions, the lotus root deity shrine (藕神祠) at the bottom of a lake in the Azure Billow Heaven (青冥天下) contained one portion of martial fortune. Furthermore, Yu Shiwu inherited one portion of martial fortune passed down through his family. Adding to this, his senior brother Cui Chan secretly schemed, and the Confucian Temple (文廟) instructed Ancestor Jiang and Ancestor Wei, the two old patriarchs of the Central Earth military strategists’ ancestral grounds, to gift the remaining two portions of martial fortune to Yu Shiwu of True Martial Mountain (真武山). The location of the final portion of martial fortune was likely somewhere in the Western Buddhist Kingdom (西方佛國). Clearly, once Treasure Bottle Continent (寶瓶洲) was breached by the Savage Desolate Monster Race (蠻荒妖族), Cui Chan would throw caution to the wind… flipping the table entirely. Whether he acted himself, or persuaded the Confucian Temple, ultimately gaining the approval of the Three Teachings’ founders, Cui Chan definitely had means to acquire the remaining two portions of martial fortune, concentrating them all within Yu Shiwu. At that time, Yu Shiwu would serve as a kind of ferry, receiving the prematurely freed soul of the military strategists’ ancestral founder, whether through possession or cuckoo’s nest takeover. This would allow the latter to descend upon the human world, as compensation for ending his imprisonment early and replenishing his martial fortune. The military strategist founder would then serve as a guest of the Savage Desolate lands in Northern Ju Lu Continent (北俱蘆洲) or Southern Po Suo Continent (南婆娑洲).

Once the military strategists’ ancestral founder manifested and returned to the human world, and was willing to assist the Vast Expanse (浩然天下), its significance would be no less than Bai Ze’s return to the Savage Desolate lands.

Yu Shiwu was very magnanimous, saying with a carefree air, “I understand. Those portions of martial fortune are deeply rooted within my soul. No matter how heaven-defying someone’s fortune may be, it would be difficult to extract them thread by thread. Therefore, I don’t dare to expect the integrity of my physical body and soul. As long as I can retain most of my memories, that’s enough. For example, I’m used to this appearance now, it’s quite good.”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “If you can think that way, it makes things much easier for me.”

Yu Shiwu asked, “Since this is a fair trade, what do you want to obtain from me?”

Chen Ping’an said, “I need you to do two things. The first is simple: you and the other two Daoists must each exhaust your minds, cooperate sincerely, and gradually perfect this small chiliocosm (小千世界).”

Yu Shiwu nodded. “I’ll enjoy that. What’s the second thing?”

Chen Ping’an asked in return, “Have you ever studied boxing?”

Yu Shiwu was bewildered, feeling utterly inexplicable, and said with a wry smile, “Before I knew that truth, I had no interest in learning boxing. After knowing the truth, of course, I dared even less to learn boxing.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Daoist Yu, to speak frankly, you cultivators, without the intention to become the dominant party, isn’t that too much of a waste of natural talent and celestial material?”

Yu Shiwu laughed, “If it were you, you would contend for it?”

Chen Ping’an smiled without speaking, only taking a step out, taking Yu Shiwu away from the immortal mansion, directly to the cyan riverbank of that ruin, calling the two women to him, “Let me introduce you to each other. This is Yu Shiwu, Daoist Yu. They are Savage Desolate female cultivators, their true name is Xiao Xing, Ma Mansion’s cook, alias Yu Qing. Next, I will release most of the restrictions, allowing you to freely travel among most of the illusionary worlds.”

In this way, three of the five elements were present.

Yu Qing’s expression was wooden, muddleheaded, like a walking corpse, truly living a miserable life of marking time. In contrast, Xiao Xing’s eyes were fiery, finally gaining another person to chat with and relieve boredom.

Chen Ping’an quietly removed the river of time flowing over Yu Qing, instantly clarifying Yu Qing’s mind upon escaping that invisible cage. Because she couldn’t adapt for a time, she collapsed to the ground, panting heavily, drenched in sweat. Xiao Xing wanted to help her up, immediately being rebuked by Yu Qing with a stern expression. Xiao Xing laughed with a radiant smile, pointing at the plump woman, as if seeking credit, telling Chen Ping’an and Yu Shiwu that she had been single-mindedly thinking of becoming a sword cultivator, so she had kindly created a high-grade natal flying sword for her, and even thought of a name for it, called *Poisoned Wine* (鴆酒)… Yu Shiwu felt a headache at this sight. Would he be spending day and night with them in the future?

Chen Ping’an gave them each some golden leaves, “These are both where the illusionary worlds are located, and the keys to open the doors.”

Chen Ping’an smiled slightly. “Repair leaks while the weather is fine, read books while you’re young. Pretending to understand when you don’t makes you a complete failure, only by learning and asking can you gain knowledge. Let’s all encourage each other.”

If a person’s memory is where all emotions are entrusted.

Then every vein on these leaves carries the joys and sorrows of thousands of stories. Perhaps a lame donkey accidentally fell into a well, maybe it’s a beautiful scene shared with someone.

Above the Sword Qi Great Wall (劍氣長城).

Ma Kuxuan walked slowly in the accumulated snow, laughing, “Opportunities are rare, while I’m in the mood to talk, don’t you have anything you want to ask? To be honest, I know the truth about some old history. No matter how much Chen Ping’an has experienced or how broad his knowledge is, he may not be as clear as I am.”

Chen Ping’an did indeed open his mouth and ask, “Why don’t you primarily cultivate the Dao of Thunder (雷法)? Wouldn’t it be twice the result with half the effort?”

Because Chen Ping’an was almost certain that the old coachman hiding in the capital of Great Li (大驪) was the chief official deity of the Ancient Thunder Department’s Punishment Division (雷部斬勘司), and he was clearly placing the greatest bet and had the highest expectations for Ma Kuxuan of Apricot Blossom Lane (杏花巷). Clearly, Ma Kuxuan was undoubtedly a reincarnation of a high-ranking deity of the Thunder Department. And among all the types of sounds in the human world, the most turbulent and reverberating is thunder.

He remembered that there was once a high-ranking deity who descended from beyond the heavens onto the continent of Tong Ye (桐葉洲), and then crossed the sea to land on Treasure Bottle Continent (寶瓶洲), but was ultimately defeated by Cui Chan and Qi Jingchun working together. That deity was none other than the “Echoer,” one of the twelve high-ranking deities of the Ancient Heavenly Court (遠古天庭).
Ma Kuxuan made no attempt to conceal anything, saying, “Based on my past life and origins, coupled with this current form’s aptitude for cultivation, why would Ma Kuxuan ever need to cultivate any thunder arts? It’s just that the Celestial Master’s Mansion of Dragon Tiger Mountain lacks the discerning eye, or perhaps that Zhao Tianlai divined the truth. Alas, he was too proud to lower himself and seek my counsel. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have minded helping them elevate the Five Thunder Righteous Method to a higher realm.”

Chen Ping’an was momentarily speechless.

Ma Kuxuan chuckled, relishing the rare opportunity to put this fellow in his place.

Raising his hand and flicking his sleeve, Ma Kuxuan revealed a network of golden and silver threads. The golden strands were solid and firm, barely moving, with varying shades of color seemingly representing the causal relationships between people. Each fluttering silver thread represented a whisper of the heart, whether from face-to-face interactions or entirely independent of physical proximity, capable of traversing the river of time at will. Every moment of mutual understanding and distant resonance would draw upon a thread. Hence, the later cultivators’ methods of transmitting thoughts and martial artists’ techniques of focusing sound were rooted in the ancient gods’ means of communication, which could span countless stars. Now, there are taboos on the mountain, forbidding direct mention of the names of Sages and Fourteenth Realm cultivators, as the latter could easily sense it. This is also an extension of that network.

If each star in the heavens was a divine corpse floating in the river of time, scattered and then reassembled, then the ancient gods’ “heart-speak” could disregard the vast distances that even Fourteenth Realm cultivators might never traverse in their lifetimes.

Ma Kuxuan continued, “As for that Echoer traveling from Tongye Continent to Treasure Bottle Continent, consider it Zhou Mi extending an invitation to me. But I declined. We both understood each other without saying it. Zhou Mi, seeing that I didn’t take the bait, didn’t press the issue, to avoid unnecessary complications that might hinder his ascension. That wouldn’t be worth it.”

Chen Ping’an might have had humble beginnings, but he first received guidance from Qi Jingchun, who accepted him as a disciple on behalf of his master. Then there was Cui Chan protecting his path, followed by Liu Shiliu’s fist at Fallen Mountain, and later Zuo You teaching him swordsmanship at the Great Wall of Swords. Now, he even had the protection of the Literary Sage, who wished to restore his position in the Confucian Temple. That old scholar guarded him like a mother hen protecting her chicks. Who else in the world received such treatment?

It was like those belated bystanders who would always say with envy, “If I were that young Hidden Official Chen, with such blessings, I would have ascended to the Upper Five Realms, no, the Ascension Realm long ago.”

Ma Kuxuan’s eyes gleamed, “Didn’t Qi Jingchun also point you towards a path that suited you? If you hadn’t said ‘I follow the multitude’ earlier, I would have cursed you for not appreciating your blessings.”

Ma Kuxuan asked, “Is that the path you’re taking to return to the Upper Five Realms?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “No.”

It was a bit more difficult, a self-inflicted suffering.

Ma Kuxuan glanced at Chen Ping’an, making sure he wasn’t being deceived.

Qi Jingchun integrated the literary and martial fortune and incense of the Li Zhu Grotto Heaven, entering the state of harmony between man and nature. Holding onto a breath of righteous Qi, he envisioned and copied the complete appearance of a severely damaged Taoist deity statue from the Divine Graveyard. The final form was a divine being clad in a worn, multicolored armor, with a soul created by secret methods and stabilized by Buddhist magic, symbolizing residing in the Fourth Flame Wisdom Land. Hence, though the light was extinguished, the lamp remained.

A culmination of the three teachings.

It was like Qi Jingchun writing a letter to the future, or a silent last will and testament. But as Zhou Mi said, Qi Jingchun’s choice was not optimal.

If so, Qi Jingchun must have had far-reaching intentions.

However, Chen Ping’an still chose his own path to breakthrough, forging a new path… a road.

Seeing that Ma Kuxuan was no longer speaking, seemingly losing the desire to talk, Chen Ping’an revealed the truth, “Seemingly old friends catching up, but in reality, you’re trying to get me to chat more. I know very well that you want me to say a few more words.”

Ma Kuxuan frankly admitted it, laughing, “I know that you know. You’re clever, and I’m not stupid. But I’m curious, when did you realize it?”

The Sages of the Three Teachings had the power of “Mouth Containing Heavenly Law,” their words becoming law. On the mountain, there was an even more profound saying, “Inspiration Connecting to the Divine.”

Since this illusionary world was destined to be false, Chen Ping’an, like a Sage seated in the world, had the advantage of timing and location. Therefore, Ma Kuxuan needed to add more true elements to avoid being “swept along.”

Such as words.

The back-and-forth questions and answers were like words twisted into a knot.

In their hometown, old people liked to say they were getting old and nearing death, “Old like a Bodhisattva.”

And to describe a child who didn’t understand human relationships and acted confused, people would say, “Like someone from the heavens.”

Outsiders regarded Ma Kuxuan as a genius among geniuses, so he never put much effort into anything, yet he was already outstanding. This was due to his natural talent.

Moreover, Ma Kuxuan hadn’t wasted any of his talent. On the contrary, he hadn’t slacked off at all these years, waiting for Chen Ping’an, waiting for a long time.

Earlier, inviting Mountain Lord Tong Wenchang to the small courtyard in the capital was not just to help introduce the female ghost Xue Ruyi, but also a test and measure of the authenticity of the illusion by Chen Ping’an.

The two same-aged hometown friends were not to be underestimated.

Chen Ping’an asked with a smile, “Want to chat a little more?”

Ma Kuxuan said, “No need, it’s enough.”

Apart from natal flying swords, the other martial arts involving boxing manuals and secret magic techniques from Taoist books, Chen Ping’an might not be able to use them at this moment.

Didn’t they say that the last Hidden Official of the Great Wall of Swords had a low cultivation level but possessed many tricks? Didn’t you, Chen Ping’an, want to fight me, Ma Kuxuan, as a Grandmaster of martial arts today?

Then let’s try it out.

Ma Kuxuan raised his hand and gently patted his neck, squinting his eyes and smiling, “Each word has filled me up, but you will go hungry.”

Chen Ping’an said, “What doesn’t belong to you, you can’t keep. You have to spit it out, return it obediently.”

Ma Kuxuan stood in place, beckoning to Chen Ping’an with his finger, “The Immortal Yun Miao of the Nine Truth Immortal Hall, his trump cards, the Cloud Water Body and Water Essence Realm, must call me ancestor when they see me. I’ll stand here and not move…”
By some mystical art unknown, Ma Kuxuan instantaneously ascended into a realm of nothingness, his body becoming like a phantom skiff.

In the next moment, Ma Kuxuan was struck as if by a colossal hammer, his frame contorting as he dry-retched.

It was both sword technique and fist strike in one.

Named “Torrent.”

The “blood” Ma Kuxuan spewed forth was, in truth, nothing but fragmented golden characters, shattered beyond recognition.

Subsequently, Ma Kuxuan was seized, one hand clamping down on his face, the other gripping his shoulder, and with a sickening *crack*, his neck was twisted.

A “corpse” fell lifelessly to the ground.

Chen Pingan stood his ground, turning his gaze elsewhere, and with a flick of his sleeve, dispersed the golden light characters, laden with the essence of the Dao.

If Ma Kuxuan could be so easily dispatched, he wouldn’t be Ma Kuxuan.

Squatting afar on the city wall, Ma Kuxuan regarded the fallen figure with a pitying gaze.

“Chen Pingan, I have, in truth, accepted a disciple who holds a grudge against you, a grudge that, while shallow in origin, burns with an intense hatred. You are, perhaps, entirely ignorant of where his animosity stems from.

“As long as you haven’t achieved the fifteenth realm, you will forever remain ignorant of his identity, unable to anticipate the methods he will employ to seek vengeance against you, and how many times he will do so.”

Ma Kuxuan leaped down from the city wall, bouncing a few times to stretch his limbs, and languidly proclaimed, “Now that the warm-up is complete, it’s time to attend to matters of import.”

The scene that unfolded next would have even Chen Pingan, with his composed nature, cursing the day.

For Ma Kuxuan, ever the harbinger of chaos, had actually employed some unorthodox art of visualization to conjure into existence… a Zhou Mi.

Within the ruins of that immortal abode, Chen Pingan led Yu Shiwu up the mountain path steps.

Yu Shiwu noticed his companion’s brows furrowing then relaxing, and inquired, “What is it?”

Chen Pingan halted, turned, and sat upon the steps, smiling gently, “Nothing much, it’s just that for every foot of Dao, there is ten feet of Devilry.”

Yu Shiwu sat beside him, stating, “Within True Martial Mountain, a senior once imparted a principle to me, advising me to establish one or two imaginary enemies on my path of cultivation.”

Chen Pingan nodded, “Sound advice.”

He had, in fact, already guessed who that senior was.

It was Ma Kuxuan’s Dao protector, who had visited the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven and shared a few encounters with him.

Yu Shiwu asked, “Do you have them too?”

Chen Pingan smiled, “Of course. For instance, I intend to engage in a reciprocal exchange with a certain senior.”

Swordsman, Pei Min.

Courtesy demands reciprocity.

Natal flying sword, Caged Bird.

Here, as long as Chen Pingan’s realm is high enough, his spiritual energy abundant enough, and his longsword sharp enough, then time and space can be infinitely cleaved.

In short, even now, if Chen Pingan so desired, he could ensure that the Qi cultivator Yu Shiwu could never catch up to an ant crawling on the ground.

Yu Shiwu said, “You still haven’t mentioned what the second matter is.”

Chen Pingan smiled faintly, “I’ll borrow you, to catch up with Cao Ci.”

Yu Shiwu inquired, puzzled, “What do you mean?”

Chen Pingan replied, “Practice your fist.”

Yu Shiwu instantly understood, speechless in astonishment.

Indeed, “Chen Pingan” dispelled the illusion, and Yu Shiwu’s true form was both far away and yet right before their eyes.

Turns out, countless well-intentioned words from others were simply taken as unintentional remarks by us.

Yu Shiwu’s expression was complex, “Is this to contend with Ma Kuxuan?”

Bearing three portions of the Martial Fortune of the Military Ancestor, it was naturally a useless appendage to the Qi cultivator Yu Shiwu, of no benefit whatsoever, but what if it was wielded by the martial arts grandmaster Chen Pingan?

Would it be equivalent to directly skipping one or two martial stages, helping him ascend to the Realm of the Ultimate God?

The so-called “joint titles” aren’t used recklessly under heaven, and Chen Pingan had two such examples at his side, such as Nan Shouchen and Bei Yínguan on the battlefield, and the White-Clad Cao and Azure-Clad Chen on the martial path.

Chen Pingan looked far into the distance, shaking his head with a smile, “There’s absolutely no need.”