Whether Chen Ping’an truly understood or merely feigned comprehension, Ma Kuxuan was indeed bluffed. Seizing upon Ma Kuxuan’s momentary mental lapse, Chen Ping’an, as if granted amnesty, like a caged bird freed, swiftly retreated a step. Ripples spread, and a portal materialized behind him, into which Chen Ping’an vanished. It was a mountain and river secret realm that Zhou Mi had likened to a silkworm’s cocoon, thus escaping the illusory realm of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

The striking crimson color instantly disappeared from sight. Ma Kuxuan couldn’t discern clearly, but he showed no anxiety. Zhou Mi, however, immediately grasped the situation, explaining, “He employed the ‘moving mountains’ technique, commanding the mountain to come to him. That step he took was merely a feint. In essence, he can instantly switch secret realms within his own territory, making it more direct and concealed than shrinking a thousand miles of earth veins into a mere inch. In ordinary battles between equals, he stands invincible.”

Ma Kuxuan said, “Time is limited, spare the idle chatter, lead me to him.”

Zhou Mi nodded with a smile, lightly tapping his head. Immediately, the three flowers gathered at the crown, transforming into a golden Taoist coronet that seemed to piece together the Jade Capital City, the Immortal Hairpin City, and Mount Tuoyue, presenting an array of wondrous sights. Ma Kuxuan shrunk his form to the size of a mustard seed, transforming into a streak of rainbow light, and shot into the coronet, like an ancient deity seated in the center of the Heavenly Court. Zhou Mi focused his gaze, following the faint trail of Chen Ping’an’s Taoist aura. With great strides, he forcefully tore open a doorway, stepping into a bustling marketplace with small bridges and flowing water. Nearby stood a soy sauce shop. Any mortal who approached Zhou Mi would vanish like melting snow, turning into nothingness.

With a wave of Zhou Mi’s sleeve, a surge of vast energy swept out, shearing off the “upper halves” of all pedestrians, buildings, and hills within this realm. Then, with a stomp of his foot, the “lower half” of this mortal world collapsed and caved in, as if a giant turtle had flipped over, turning the place into ruins in the blink of an eye. All things were reduced to dust and ashes, scattering between heaven and earth. In the far distance, a glimmer of light flashed for a moment. Zhou Mi smiled slightly, he had found him. Ma Kuxuan, seated within the golden coronet, formed a sword gesture with his fingers. Immediately, a streak of sword light traveled through the air like a dragon swimming through water, shooting out from the “mountain peak.” The trajectory of the sword light appeared winding, but in reality, it followed a river of time, making it the most direct path.

The streak of sword light struck the evasive figure of light millions of miles away. The latter countered the sword energy with fist force, resisting stubbornly. Attack and defense clashed, instantly splashing out a spray of water droplets.

Ma Kuxuan clearly heard the fellow curse under his breath, muttering like a homeless dog, scrambling to hide elsewhere, continuing to evade the brunt of the attack, first to delay, then to seek a way to defeat the enemy.

Zhou Mi said, “The opponent probably already realized that I am not the true Zhou Mi.”

If it were truly Zhou Mi using Ma Kuxuan as a conduit to connect the heavens and earth, coming here to scheme against Chen Ping’an, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths; he would have ended things back at the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Ma Kuxuan was annoyed, “I thought your final words were something only you could say, something that would make him believe even more that you were the real deal. I never expected it to make him suspicious instead?”

Zhou Mi smiled, “It was your embellishment that ruined it. I reminded you at the time to know when to stop. It should have been a complete fabrication, entirely true. It’s like a meticulously detailed landscape painting, yet you add a rough, freehand flower. Anyone who sees it will feel something is amiss.”

As he spoke, Zhou Mi had already taken a step, this time directly breaking through the barriers between two illusory realms, crossing boundaries and changing places. A brilliant scene like shattered glass appeared around him.

Rain poured down. A fleeing caravan traversed a muddy road. Scattered along the sides were boxes, some fallen on their own, others pushed off by the drivers and servants. Many of the opened boxes spilled out books. These well-preserved, heavily stamped books, having survived fires and insect infestations, couldn’t escape this war. In this chaotic world, perhaps more worthless than antiques were books; they were heavy and couldn’t be exchanged for money. What else would one discard but them?

Zhou Mi, wearing the golden coronet, crouched down, picking up a soft, rotten book covered in yellow mud. Ma Kuxuan urged him to hurry and find Chen Ping’an’s whereabouts. Zhou Mi told him not to rush, quickly flipping through the pages, holding his finger on the character “Chen” for a moment. Then, he found the remaining two characters, “Ping” and “An,” on other pages. With a flick of his wrist, a precious book, said to be worth an ounce of gold per page, was shaken clean, leaving only three golden characters suspended in the air.

Zhou Mi then lightly stomped his foot, employing a technique similar to summoning gods or commanding the earth spirits.

The three golden characters wavered, their radiance dimming, eventually turning into dull ashes, falling into the mud with the rain, yet Chen Ping’an’s figure was still nowhere to be seen.

Ma Kuxuan laughed heartily, “Is your skill lacking, or is this Chen Ping’an’s golden body too good at enduring?”

Zhou Mi smiled, and then picked up a few more books from the ground, reassembling the name “Chen Ping’an” from the black characters on the white pages.

He then quickly found “Luopo” (Fallen) and “Shan” (Mountain) from the book pages, and then respectively took the character “Yin” (Hidden) from “Shenyin” (Divine Concealment) and the character “Guan” (Official) from “Huanyou” (Official Travel).

To avoid embarrassing himself again, Zhou Mi simply combined “Sword Qi Great Wall” with “Lizhu Grotto-Heaven” and “Niping Lane” to form phrases.

In this way, two talismans radiating divine light were suspended in front of Zhou Mi, clearly stating “Luopo Mountain Chen Ping’an” and “Sword Qi Great Wall Hidden Official”.

In addition, each talisman had a line of small characters as a footnote: Niping Lane, Lizhu Grotto-Heaven.

Zhou Mi said, “Success is assured.”

Ma Kuxuan understood. After Zhou Mi’s lips moved slightly, issuing another command, Ma Kuxuan, who was waiting for the rabbit, threw out a punch first, still with Cao Ci’s boxing style and power.

The fist intent was higher than that of Cao Ci in the Qingbai dispute in the Central Earth Confucian Temple. It was obvious that at that time, neither Cao Ci nor Chen Ping’an had exerted their full strength, by mutual agreement.
Forced into this battle, Chen Ping’an, unable to discern the true nature of Ma Kuxuan’s schemes, found himself unable to launch a targeted counterattack. He could only focus on defense. Besides the crimson magic robe he wore, tens of thousands of talismans of various colors floated around him, layer upon layer, resembling dozens of long rivers of talismans, intertwining into a sphere, protecting his true form at the center. Alas, despite the multitude of defenses, Ma Kuxuan’s single punch shattered the rivers of talismans, distorting the light and creating chaotic visions. Chen Ping’an merely glanced at Zhou Mi, raised both arms to defend himself, and was sent hurtling like a stone against a stretched canvas, pulling the fabric inward toward its center. Landscapes, figures, and buildings were compressed within the folds.

Ma Kuxuan raised his hand, and countless golden lightning bolts relentlessly struck the bottom of the crater.

Zhou Mi then issued another divine decree, forcibly recalling Chen Ping’an, the “earth spirit” of this realm.

A ray of purple sword light shot from between Zhou Mi’s brows, piercing directly at Chen Ping’an’s head, so close that it was impossible to dodge.

Chen Ping’an could only slightly turn his head, and the slender sword light cut a deep wound, exposing bone, on his face.

In this fight, Ma Kuxuan held a firm advantage, collaborating with Zhou Mi to overwhelm Chen Ping’an, the host of this realm, leaving him with no power to retaliate.

Once the divine talisman’s spiritual energy was exhausted, Chen Ping’an finally regained his freedom and fled into the boundless void. Zhou Mi, however, pursued him relentlessly, changing locations and manifesting a dharma body. His feet trampled the earth, crushing a mountain into dust. With his back arched, he used it to support the fabric of the sky. The dharma body, clad in golden armor, transformed into a ten-thousand-foot-tall deity wielding a lightning whip. Each strike of the whip upon the ground turned a bustling city of millions into desolate ruins, leaving behind a battlefield of immortals.

A thin ray of sword light crept up the lightning whip.

Ma Kuxuan casually flicked his finger, severing it. The sword light of a Sword Immortal was so easily defeated.

Circumstances dictated that Chen Ping’an had to once again use his sword to escape to a new battlefield, hoping to buy time by exploiting the changing geography.

Countless primitive beings on the earth stared blankly at the fiery light tearing through the sky, illuminating the night as if it were day, as if a cataclysm were upon them.

A vast swamp in a remote, uncivilized land was instantly filled by a falling celestial star.

The immense impact threatened to shatter the entire small world. The sounds of cracking echoed as the boundaries between heaven and earth fractured, turning the illusionary realm into a piece of porcelain teetering on the edge of breaking.

Chen Ping’an, however, had already left, fleeing to the previous mountain and water realm. It was as if someone had left a house through the side door, only to circle back and enter through the front, launching a surprise attack.

Unexpectedly, a bronze bell appeared in the sky, followed by a giant, jade-white hand, which lightly shook the bell, creating a deafening sound that shattered the entire realm.

The owner of the giant hand, Zhou Mi, reminded him mentally, “Half an incense stick has passed.”

Ma Kuxuan bared his teeth, “From what I know, this guy always fights head-on. He’s never been this good at running.”

Despite holding the upper hand, they were unable to seriously injure Chen Ping’an, unable to convert their advantage into a victory. It was like having a stack of silver notes that could not be cashed, ultimately unsatisfactory.

Zhou Mi chuckled, “Before, his sword refining was incomplete. Running was useless, so he might as well have fought with all his might. Now that he knows he can’t win, anyone would choose to retreat.”

Ma Kuxuan hugged the back of his head, sitting in the patchwork battlefield, “After all this frantic running, I wonder how far he’s gotten in solving the riddle.”

Zhou Mi said, “Don’t delay any longer, or things will change.”

Ma Kuxuan lazily smiled, “You are an outsider in this game.”

To Ma Kuxuan, his leisurely chase and Chen Ping’an’s frustrating escape were like a children’s game of hide-and-seek.

Ma Kuxuan sighed regretfully, “The nest has been disturbed, he hasn’t taken the bait.”

Zhou Mi said, “You intentionally made him choose the Great Wall of Swords, a good move. He will naturally think of ‘me’ and the Eldest Sword Immortal, needing no more of your calculations and preparations. However, while he was still in the dark, you failed to make him think of ‘Chen Qingdu’ three times, which was a bad move.”

Ma Kuxuan said, “It’s a shame, I overestimated myself. I couldn’t summon the complete Third God after all.”

Zhou Mi chuckled, “I told you long ago, this man is, after all, a scholar, emphasizing solitary reflection and a clear conscience. Therefore, even in his own mind, he couldn’t call Chen Qingdu by his name directly.”

Ma Kuxuan curled his lip, unconvinced.

Zhou Mi said, “Choosing Chen Qingdu is not as good as choosing Zuo You.”

Ma Kuxuan said indifferently, “The spectacle must be grand, so of course I’ll choose the one with the highest level of swordsmanship.”

Even half of Chen Qingdu’s cultivation, a discounted sword skill, couldn’t be too weak, right?

Zhou Mi smiled and shook his head, feeling helpless.

It turned out that within Ma Kuxuan’s inner world, there were three incense tables, but only one incense burner with incense sticks, smoke curling upwards, offering to three figures.

Besides Zhou Mi of the Literary Sea and Cao Ci in white, there was also an old man wielding a sword, none other than Chen Qingdu, the Eldest Sword Immortal of the Great Wall of Swords.

However, compared to the former two, Chen Qingdu’s face was relatively blurry, his figure ethereal and uncertain.

Ma Kuxuan’s visualization was akin to some mysterious “refining and casting,” able to erect a “faceless” clay sculpture on a divine altar.

Of course, the height of their golden bodies was limited, which was naturally related to Ma Kuxuan’s cultivation level. The Qi Refiner was limited to the Ascension Realm, and the Martial Artist to the Pinnacle Realm.

Otherwise, if Ma Kuxuan were bold enough to even visualize Zhou Mi of the Literary Sea, why wouldn’t he directly bring out the Three Patriarchs of Taoism and place them on the altar?

Similarly, in bestowing official titles upon mountain and water spirits, the official title bestowed by the Central Earth Literary Temple, the Dali Song Dynasty, and a vassal state of a certain Treasure Bottle Continent, while all legitimate and orthodox, were of vastly different qualities. And Chen Ping’an’s imagination, his thoughts related to a certain person, were equivalent to “opening the face” of the statue, as well as being responsible for applying gold and adding color, making the statue lifelike and more realistic.

Ma Kuxuan had carefully prepared three “statues” for Chen Ping’an to go to.

Zhou Mi for the Daoist arts, Cao Ci for martial arts, and Chen Qingdu for swordsmanship.

Coincidentally, all three had appeared at the Great Wall of Swords.
Within a secret realm, where a certain civil official was setting up a table by the riverbank to pray for rain, and commoners were parading through the streets, burning paper dragon kings, Chen Ping’an leaned on his sword with one hand, wiping away the blood that trickled from his temple.

He had been taking a beating, suffering considerable injuries, but fortunately, his true soul and the foundation of his Great Dao remained unscathed.

If Zhou Mi’s manifestation in this world was a riddle that Ma Kuxuan had already provided clues to, then the answer was indeed “contemplation.”

Assuming Ma Kuxuan was telling the truth and had not accepted Zhou Mi’s invitation to ascend to the heavens, then Chen Ping’an was undoubtedly closer to the truth than Ma Kuxuan, whether it was Zhou Mi’s cultivation realm or Cao Ci’s genuine fist techniques.

In other words, Ma Kuxuan’s seemingly… cheating divine ability had a natural limitation: he couldn’t conjure it out of thin air; it had to be Chen Ping’an who provided the imagination.

It was like a sure-win fishing expedition. The Wen Hai Zhou Mi, conjured by Ma Kuxuan, held a fishing rod, and the fish he was angling for was a certain “name” within Chen Ping’an’s thoughts.

As long as Chen Ping’an took the bait, thinking of someone, Ma Kuxuan would seize the opportunity to reel him in, placing him in his fish basket and turning him into “reality.” And this person would become Chen Ping’an’s current imaginary enemy.

For example, Cao Ci.

Because Chen Ping’an’s thoughts and mind were like a torrential river, and all the people he knew were fish, big and small, swimming in the water.

No, besides Cao Ci, there was also that Zhou Mi!

At this moment, Chen Ping’an suddenly realized, “That dog Ma Kuxuan, when did he become so clever?!” That Zhou Mi who appeared on the city wall was clearly hinting at Chen Ping’an.

Therefore, that Zhou Mi was initially just a showy facade, meant to scare people. His methods probably weren’t that sophisticated back then. But when Ma Kuxuan unleashed his contemplation ability, Chen Ping’an constantly guarded against the Zhou Mi facing him, which was actually Chen Ping’an imbuing him with real meaning. Thus, only then did Zhou Mi truly transform from a counterfeit into a second-rate genuine article. Like someone who existed in name only, he finally came to life.

In a sense, this was Chen Ping’an’s own doing. Because what he feared in his heart would actually come to pass.

Ma Kuxuan had subtly tricked Chen Ping’an, like a consecration ceremony for mountain and water deities. Ma Kuxuan was responsible for the “name,” and Chen Ping’an, having fallen into the trap, was responsible for the “reality,” ultimately resulting in a legitimate consecration.

Common folk entering a temple to worship gods need to burn incense, usually three sticks.

Presumably, Ma Kuxuan’s method of inviting deities and descending truth also followed a similar ritual.

Hopefully, that was the case.

What if Ma Kuxuan was burning nine sticks of incense or something…? Chen Ping’an would have to endure for that long.

He dared not linger here for long. That Zhou Mi had used some unknown means and was simply relentless. Without waiting for him to catch up, Chen Ping’an barely mustered a mouthful of pure true energy and immediately changed locations. Sure enough, as soon as Chen Ping’an left, a torrential rain poured down on the land, each raindrop the size of a soybean, condensed from sword qi, piercing the earth and mountains into sieves riddled with countless holes.

Ma Kuxuan clicked his tongue in wonder, “Chen Qingdu’s swordsmanship, with only half of his power, is this exaggerated?”

Zhou Mi asked with a smile, “Finally regretting it?”

Ma Kuxuan scoffed, “Regret what? I like swallowing bitter pills in silence the most. Don’t waste it. With half of Chen Qingdu’s swordsmanship, you can get serious now.”

Zhou Mi smiled slightly, holding a sword and unleashing a series of slashes across several of Chen Ping’an’s heart-mind realms.

To block this sword light, a Night Wanderer Sword of Immortal artifact grade was actually shattered on the spot.

A crimson robe, also an Immortal artifact, was torn apart by the unstoppable sword qi.

Standing in a vast and boundless void realm, Chen Ping’an gathered the two broken pieces of the sword behind his longsword. Although the robe was severely damaged, it could still mend itself for now.

He was almost cleaved in two by that sword. Even if an Immortal realm Qi Refiner’s body was severed, it could be restored with cultivation, but it would genuinely deplete their Dao foundation. The worst thing was if it affected their soul.

Zhou Mi raised his sword, casting down sword light into the azure sky once more.

He instantly shattered a golden arch bridge into dust.

Chen Ping’an’s defensive swordsmanship seemed to have been stolen from that wanderer, Xu Ruo?

The entire void realm echoed with the violent sounds of sword qi clashing.

Chen Ping’an stood on a broken pillar of a golden arch bridge and asked, “What price are you paying?”

Mountain altars and deity-inviting rituals all had to follow certain rules. Although Qi Refiners had various methods and shortcuts to minimize their own losses, the price that Qi Refiners had to pay never failed to be exacted.

Zhou Mi was too lazy to remind him with a mental message and directly said, “Why not kill him, and then you two can reminisce?”

Ma Kuxuan and Chen Ping’an were like two village children playing house, arranging troops and formations, clashing on muddy ground. One would say, “I have an army of ten thousand,” and the other would say, “I have divine generals.”

Back and forth, as long as they dared to imagine. Of course, it was just a war of words.

But it was like one of the children was cheating. He could make his dreams come true, while the other could only dream.

Chen Ping’an and Zhou Mi both had problems, but Ma Kuxuan answered irrelevantly, “You actually guessed that you were trapped in a certain situation, and I had turned the tables on you, but you only thought about it three times, and I foresaw them all, so each time it had no effect. You were suppressed by the thought that ‘things never go beyond three times,’ and after that, you simply didn’t dare to think anymore.”

Zhou Mi sighed and said with regret, “Why give away the answer proactively, creating unnecessary complications? Ma Kuxuan, oh Ma Kuxuan, what were you thinking?”

Chen Ping’an remained expressionless.

In an instant, the three divine platforms and statues in Ma Kuxuan’s heart-mind realm collapsed with a deafening roar, just like the final fate of those statues in the Immortal tombs of their hometown, dust to dust, earth to earth.

Zhou Mi was slightly stunned, and he instantly understood the reason. He laughed loudly, and before his figure dissipated, he sincerely praised, “Chen Ping’an, well done. Your earlier words were truly not deceiving.”

It turned out that Chen Ping’an had used another method of using the sword to cut himself, severing Zhou Mi, Cao Ci, and Chen Qingdu within his own heart-mind.

Ma Kuxuan tapped his toes and also stepped on a broken pillar of the golden arch bridge, squatting down and asking with a smile, “Paying such a high price, just to play with me until now, what are you hoping to gain?”
Chen Pingan, knees bent and legs crossed, sat on the fragmented arch bridge, saying, “Let the facts prove that the previous skirmishes were just me humoring you.”

Ma Kuxuan asked doubtfully, “Really?”

Chen Pingan sneered, “What would I gain from deceiving an idiot?”

Ma Kuxuan tilted his head, staring blankly at the person his age.

Chen Pingan’s injuries were so severe this time, the price he paid so high, even his longsword was broken – none of this was false.

Ma Kuxuan asked, “Was it really after hearing Zhou Mi’s words that you understood everything from beginning to end? Even who the three figures you summoned were, you could guess? You could truly foresee that the last one would be Chen Qingdu?”

Chen Pingan scoffed, “You’re still thinking about ‘Chen Qingdu’? Come, let’s try it out. Let’s see if the Grand Sword Immortal you summon can deliver a sword faster, or if I can sever your memories sooner.”

Ma Kuxuan asked curiously, “You wouldn’t have used time-reversal techniques of the River of Time, would you?”

Chen Pingan shook his head. “I thought about giving it a try, but I don’t have the ability yet, I can’t drag your bodies through it. Besides, the consumption of the River of Time with that kind of technique is irreversible. It’s not a smaller price to pay than what I’m doing now.”

Ma Kuxuan nodded. “That’s more reasonable. Otherwise, it would be too illogical, wouldn’t it? A Flying Ascendant realm cultivator, a whole realm above you, being played like a puppet.”

Ma Kuxuan stood up and said, “If I win, everything will be over for you. But if I happen to lose, you have to promise me one thing.”

Chen Pingan said, “Tell me what it is first. Whether I agree or not is another matter.”

Ma Kuxuan said, “Regarding the Ma Clan estate, kill those you think deserve to die, give them a swift end. Let those who should live, live. And don’t alter memories or manipulate hearts anymore.”

Chen Pingan remained silent.

Ma Kuxuan laughed. “Then I’ll take that as a tacit agreement.”

In the next instant, Ma Kuxuan’s figure suddenly expanded, becoming immeasurably vast. He grasped an ancient star in his hand and hurled it fiercely towards Chen Pingan.

Chen Pingan tested it out and found himself equally empowered. With a flick of his sleeve, he cast a resplendent river of stars towards Ma Kuxuan’s dharma form.

In this dual realm, existing both within Chen Pingan’s birdcage of flying swords and in Ma Kuxuan’s visualization, the two sides unleashed their divine powers, each technique possessing inconceivable might.

Countless battlefields, once teeming with stars, were reduced to vast, empty ruins.

It was fortunate that these were merely illusory forms; otherwise, the Yin-Yang and Five Elements cultivators, along with the Celestial Observatory’s Qi refiners, would have gone mad.

However, what was false to the outside world was utterly real to the combatants within the battlefield, demanding absolute focus. A moment of carelessness could damage one’s physical body and Dao heart.

Time flowed on, the eons passed by unknown.

Suddenly, Ma Kuxuan summoned an image of the Sword Immortal Chen Qingdu.

Almost instinctively, Chen Pingan delivered a strike with all his might.

He reduced Ma Kuxuan and the illusion to nothingness.

Ma Kuxuan sat upright in the void, his body transforming into countless golden lights. A glimmer of light appeared in the heavens, carrying the golden essence that housed his soul, which could have followed that light and escaped from this cage. Unexpectedly, the golden light paused, as if glancing back at Chen Pingan, his longtime adversary. Then, that ball of golden light shuddered, shattering his soul, unwilling to accept Chen Pingan’s “liberation” by force. Within the birdcage, a torrential rain of golden light began to fall.

He even seemed to deliberately ignore the Ma Clan ancestral hall’s return to the light of day, where everyone was awakening from their dreams. It seemed he only trusted Chen Pingan’s verbal promise.

The Ma Clan couple had only experienced half of their “beautiful dream”. First, their son, Ma Kuxuan, had intervened and stopped Chen Pingan, allowing them to become mountain and river deities protected by Fengdu, and their family would thrive… But the latter half was a true nightmare. At the height of their contentment, they were suddenly detained and interrogated in the City God Temple, judged with harsh words: they would be denied human form for over twenty reincarnations. Finally, they would regain human form, reunite as husband and wife, but in that life, they would suffer greatly and die a tragic death.

The rest of the Ma Clan had also awakened, and after glancing at each other, they regarded each other as enemies.

A deeply rooted, monolithic family in the Jade Propaganda Kingdom was now torn apart by internal strife, with subordinates defying superiors and everyone vying for a share of the family fortune.

Chen Pingan stood outside the Ma Clan’s gates. It was still the Qingming Festival, but the rain had stopped.

Dressed in a long green gown, with an umbrella tucked under his arm, he walked slowly away, heading elsewhere.

In Changning County of the capital city, the divining fortune teller, Daoist Wu Di, had left his livelihood behind in the rented residence.

Chen Pingan had just passed by the Shrine of the Earth God when he heard a familiar inner voice. In a daze, he found himself on the wall of the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Standing atop the wall was the Sage of Rites.

The scene before him was both real and unreal.

Chen Pingan put away the umbrella under his arm and bowed respectfully.

The Sage of Rites nodded in acknowledgement and said, “The Zhou Mi that Ma Kuxuan visualized was fake. You don’t need to worry about it. But whether Zhou Mi will see your current situation, realm, and state of mind through this matter, I cannot guarantee.”

Chen Pingan breathed a sigh of relief.

Seeing is believing, hearing is truth.

The Sage of Rites said, “You are injured severely.”

Chen Pingan said, “Compared to my earliest expectations, it’s still several points better.”

He would have to reforge the Night Wanderer sword and mend the Immortal Molting Robe. Headache or not, it was better than losing his cultivation realm.

Earlier, when he saw the “Zhou Mi” behind Ma Kuxuan, he knew that this matter had to be handled with caution. If it were truly a hidden thread left behind by Zhou Mi in the human world, the consequences would be unimaginable. He had to inform the Confucian Temple about this matter immediately, while also trying his best to prevent the Confucian Sages from interfering with his revenge. Simple as that was to say, it was not so simple in execution. When in doubt, find the Sage of Rites!

But Chen Pingan only knew the Shrinking Earth technique, and didn’t know how to cross continents in a single step like the Fire Dragon True Man. He was destined not to be able to split his body and rush to the Central Earth Confucian Temple to report this matter. Flying sword transmissions were too slow, so he had no choice but to use the most direct method: repeatedly calling out the Sage of Rites’ true name in his heart…

The Sage of Rites had only replied with, “I know,” and said nothing more.

Even so, Chen Pingan was relieved. He walked out of the Ma Clan ancestral hall, letting go of all reservations, and engaged in a one-on-one battle to the death with Ma Kuxuan.

The Sage of Rites asked, “After years of patience, your great revenge is finally avenged. How do you feel?”
Chen Ping’an, looking slightly weary, casually squatted on the city wall, gazing into the distance. Within this world, only the Sword Qi Great Wall strictly adhered to reality. In contrast, the landscape of the Wild Desolate World deviated greatly from the actual situation. The Ten Thousand Mountains, the Crescent Moon Mountain, the Trailing Sunset River, and other places Chen Ping’an had visited and seen with his own eyes were all moved and clustered together, like a warehouse storing items. After a moment of silence, Chen Ping’an said calmly, “I did something that had to be done, but I don’t feel much joy.”

It just felt like it was the natural thing to do.

The Sage of Rites smiled and said, “If you want to drink, feel free.”

Chen Ping’an then took out his Sword Nurturing Gourd and started drinking.

The Sage of Rites suddenly asked, “If you were in my position, what would you do? You don’t need to say much, just summarize it in one sentence.”

Chen Ping’an was speechless for a moment. He had never thought about such a monumental question, how could he answer it?

In the ancient years, the Sage of Rites, along with the Three Mountains Nine Marquis, once carried out a far-reaching transformation.

Later generations who were familiar with this ancient history often believed that it was too lenient and failed due to excessive leniency.

The opposite was actually true; it was because the legal codes and hidden laws re-edited by the Sage of Rites were too complex and meticulous.

Chen Ping’an pondered seriously for a moment and tentatively said, “To seek a greatest common divisor for all living beings in the Great Balance World?”

The Sage of Rites nodded and smiled, “This answer is not bad, worthy of being someone who has become a National Preceptor.”

Chen Ping’an didn’t say anything. “Not bad” meant it wasn’t good. He was no stranger to this kind of official jargon.

Chen Ping’an hesitated, fiddled with the accumulated snow at his feet, made a snowball, and mustered his courage to say, “Sage of Rites, please don’t make me work in the Confucian Temple, alright?”

If the Sage of Rites were to ascend to the fifteenth realm, it would create a very important vacancy in the Confucian Temple, which would have to be filled by someone to handle the complex affairs of both the highest and lowest echelons of humanity. Of course, Chen Ping’an wasn’t saying he wanted to fill the Sage of Rites’ position. He wouldn’t dare to think so boldly. Rather, it was a relationship similar to that of a minister and a lower ranking official in the six ministries of a secular dynasty. There was a large difference in rank, but the latter had just as many official duties.

The Sage of Rites glanced at Chen Ping’an, a smile that wasn’t quite a smile on his face.

Chen Ping’an immediately knew he had overthought things.

The Sage of Rites teased him in a rare moment, “You really dare to think and dare to do. Why not just say you want to fill my position in the Confucian Temple?”

Chatting like this was much easier, without any burden. Chen Ping’an wasn’t embarrassed at all. Who started the free-spirited atmosphere of the Summer Palace?

Because the Sage of Rites needed to be stationed outside the heavens, constantly monitoring the azure trajectory, Yu Xuan had briefly mentioned Chen Ping’an’s path to breaking through to the Sage after returning to the Star River Dojo. He greatly admired Chen Ping’an, even referring to him as Fellow Daoist Chen.

Chen Ping’an asked, “In all these years, has there ever been a time when the Sage of Rites couldn’t resist taking action?”

The Sage of Rites smiled and said, “I’m not young anymore. Fighting and killing, how unseemly.”

For a moment, Chen Ping’an couldn’t tell if the Sage of Rites’ words were a genuine sentiment or a double entendre. In any case, if Xiao Mo and Xie Gou were present, they wouldn’t like hearing this.

He once heard Xie Gou talk about an embarrassing incident involving her Xiao Mo. That brawny scholar had a very skilled martial artist by his side, who had never lost a fight. Xiao Mo was unconvinced, saying that even if he was fierce, he was still just one person, and he wasn’t afraid of him at all.

But after that sword questioning ended, Xiao Mo told the Cave Master of Bixiao Cave in Luobao Beach that the young husband was quite capable.

Chen Ping’an didn’t trust Xie Gou, as she liked to exaggerate. So he went to the person involved to verify. At the time, Xiao Mo was sullen and didn’t deny it, so it must have been true.

The Sage of Rites asked, “The Confucian Temple has arranged things fairly well in the Wild Desolate battlefield, except for the lack of someone similar to your Sword Qi Great Wall’s Censor Official. Do you have any ideas? Don’t worry, there will be rewards.”

Chen Ping’an didn’t hesitate, saying decisively, “No!”

The Sage of Rites nodded, not trying to make things difficult for Chen Ping’an. “Then I’ll look for someone else.”

Chen Ping’an knew that this was the Sage of Rites’ style: decisive and unwavering.

There was no need to beat around the bush with a junior like him.

To be honest, whoever sat in this “Censor Official” position would be sitting on pins and needles.

Those with lower realms wouldn’t be able to command respect.

Those with high enough realms, such as Heavenly Master Zhang Tianlai of Dragon Tiger Mountain and True Man Fire Dragon, weren’t a matter of commanding respect, but rather making things difficult for them.

As a Censor Official, one would inevitably offend people. Interrogating the demon race wasn’t too difficult, but if it came to rewarding merits and assigning blame within the Great Balance World, it would be a thankless task.

The Sage of Rites smiled, “Don’t feel burdened for refusing this.”

Chen Ping’an nodded and continued drinking.

The Sword Qi Great Wall was most familiar with the Wild Desolate World, without exception.

Chen Ping’an was the most well-known in the Wild Desolate World, still without exception.

Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City was actually the best candidate, and indeed the Confucian Temple’s first choice.

Zheng Juzhong was proficient in everything, and now possessed three fourteenth-realm bodies.

But Zheng Juzhong declined.

Not only that, Zheng Juzhong even requested to withdraw from the Wild Desolate World, on the grounds that he wanted to enter secluded cultivation in White Emperor City.

The Sage of Rites actually knew that Zheng Juzhong wanted to go even further and was preparing to formally establish a religion and become a patriarch.

The Sage of Rites suddenly asked, “Have you been to Fellow Daoist Zhi Ci’s Ten Thousand Mountains?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “I’ve only seen it from afar, I’ve never had the chance to go.”

The Sage of Rites said, “You can go to the southern Ten Thousand Mountains and the northern Mirage Ruins today. Return to this city wall in half an hour sharp, remember not to delay, otherwise you’ll have to run back to Treasure Bottle Continent yourself.”

Chen Ping’an stood up, but before he could speak, the Sage of Rites had already disappeared.

At the peak of the highest mountain in the center of the Ten Thousand Mountains, Chen Ping’an had just landed when he saw a hunched old man with his hands behind his back, as thin as a stick, with sunken cheeks, and so skinny that he was all skin and bones. But this seemingly decrepit figure had been rooted here for ten thousand years, unable to be touched by the Great Ancestor of Crescent Moon Mountain, who had always been unable to take that half step to ascend to the fifteenth realm. Bai Jing had once commented that if she were the Wild Desolate World’s Overlord, she would have smashed the entire Crescent Moon Mountain into these Ten Thousand Mountains long ago.

Chen Ping’an clasped his fist and said, “Junior Chen Ping’an greets Senior Zhi Ci.”
The old blind man said, “Miss Ning just left not long ago. It’s a pity your realm is too low, just a mere Immortal. Even if you set off now, you won’t be able to catch up to her. Miss Ning is almost at the Auspicious Continent.”

Chen Ping’an cut to the chase, “I have something I wish to inquire about with you, Senior.”

The old blind man said, “You want to question me about why I stood by and watched Miss Ning get hurt in the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven back then?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Not a question, just seeking an answer.”

The old blind man rubbed his chin. “According to my temperament, I would definitely have intervened. In the Sword Qi Great Wall, over ten thousand years, the sword cultivators I liked were few and far between. From the earliest Dragon Sovereign, to that Zong Yuan who was good at everything but had bad luck, to Dong Sangeng, who was bitten by a dog while passing through here, and then to Ning Yao, just those few. Counting them all, it doesn’t even exceed the fingers on one hand. But Chen Qingdu seemed to have taken the wrong medicine. He actually stopped me at the time and said there was no need to intervene. Isn’t that strange?”

Chen Ping’an asked, “Was it that the last sacrificial official revealed some heavenly secrets to the Eldest Sword Immortal before he departed?”

The old blind man said evasively, “Chen Qingdu is dead and gone, but that Yan Country hasn’t died. When your realm is higher, and your courage is greater, and you finally don’t have to be that shrinking turtle enduring humiliation, and you dare to wander in the Azure Vault Heaven, the Hidden Official can go ask Yan Country himself.”

Knowing he wouldn’t get any more secrets, Chen Ping’an cupped his fist in farewell and planned to go see the old site of the mirage.

But he ran into a wall and had to turn back.

The old blind man smiled and said, “Coming and going as you please, does the Hidden Official think this is a privy?”

Chen Ping’an’s face showed no expression, and there wasn’t a single word in his inner voice. His Dao Heart was as calm as an ancient well.

The old blind man, with empty sockets where his eyes should be, looked up and scrutinized the sword cultivator before him. A Sword Immortal not yet fifty years old, exceptionally outstanding even in the history of the Sword Qi Great Wall. He clicked his tongue and said, “How many Chen Ping’ans need to be killed to become this Chen Ping’an? Have you roughly calculated, kept a tally?”

Chen Ping’an said, “The number is too great, I can’t calculate it.”

The old blind man laughed. “I’ve always had a foul mouth. When I talk to people, I like to spout filth, as if I just ate a fresh turd. Don’t mind it.”

Chen Ping’an was caught a little off guard.

He definitely couldn’t win a fight, and the worst thing when arguing with people was running into someone like this.

The old blind man pinched a bit of flesh with his fingernails and sighed. “If I really met someone I disliked, even if Little Master Confucius let you in, I would slap you back out. If I meet someone who’s only slightly disagreeable, I wouldn’t bother with so much talk. So don’t think that just because you killed Ma Kuxuan of Apricot Blossom Lane, my one eyeball’s half-owner, I would be disgusted with you. It’s far from that. Back then, I chose him because Ma Kuxuan had the least human scent.”

Chen Ping’an didn’t comment on this, but asked, “Xie Gou has also left?”

The old blind man raised his chin and said, “Bai Jing has found a mountaintop to open a cave abode. He says he’s going into seclusion for a few days, but he’s just hiding over there to play around. Here, I have to urge her to break through.”

Chen Ping’an asked, “Does she show signs of breaking through?”

The old blind man said, “Not yet. If she really finds a path, has a chance to break through, why would I urge her every now and then? That wouldn’t be fun.”

Chen Ping’an was speechless.

Playing around with a Peak Ascension Realm Sword Cultivator for fun?

As expected, the Fourteenth Realm was truly extraordinary.

The old blind man chuckled and said, “No matter how poor your cultivation aptitude, if you can live for ten thousand years, that’s still a skill?”

Chen Ping’an said, “A long-sought-after, heaven-defying skill.”

The old blind man asked, “Do you know that Ruan the Blacksmith of the Snowstorm Temple, before he went to the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven, had a prized disciple back then, but they didn’t part on good terms, severing their master-disciple relationship?”

Chen Ping’an nodded and said, “I checked the Ministry of Justice archives in the Great Li capital before. His name was Liu Jingzhuang, he liked divination, and admired Liu Qi. It’s said that because his cultivation aptitude was ordinary, he developed a heart-devil and actively left the Snowstorm Temple. Furthermore, according to the Snowstorm Temple’s genealogy recorded in the secret records, Liu Jingzhuang was actually from the former God Water Kingdom’s Liu imperial family, similar to the current Water God Yang Hua, who holds the title of Great Dú Eternal Spring Marquis.”

The old blind man sneered and said, “Then do you know, in your Treasure Bottle Continent, that branch of the Chen family from Dragon Tail Creek that branched out from the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven, the eldest grandson of the current family head, Chen Songfeng, what was the name of one of his family tutors?”

Chen Ping’an said, “According to the archive records, the tutor was named Liu Cun, with a clean background, verifiable ancestral history, place of origin, and official career. The Chen family of Dragon Tail Creek screened him once, and the Great Li Ministry of Justice checked him again. I didn’t think much of it.”

Chen Ping’an had been deeply impressed by Chen Songfeng, this frail scholar, gentle and refined, and polite. Among the out-of-towners, Chen Songfeng, as the son of a powerful family, was inwardly praised by Chen Ping’an as… definitely a good person who had read many books. Back then, Chen Songfeng followed him and Ning Yao, along with Liu Baqiao, to enter the mountain in search of that Chinese Pistache tree. Because Chen Songfeng had never practiced martial arts or cultivation, his footwork was too weak, becoming a burden. He suffered no small amount of frustration from Chen Dui, a disciple of the pure Confucian Chen family. However, Chen Songfeng didn’t have any complaints. What was rare was that he didn’t even have resentment in his heart. Although Chen Ping’an was still a frog in a well, having not seen much of the world, he still had a bit of insight into judging people based on intuition and observing the details of their words and actions.

The old blind man said indifferently, “Just a tutor hired by a wealthy family dared to say to a young man who clearly didn’t have the aptitude for cultivation that sitting in meditation on the Lotus Platform of the Dao Ancestor was nothing, and that he could go to a Blessed Land and become a banished immortal who discarded his past life?”

Chen Ping’an looked up at the sky.

Seeing that Chen Ping’an already understood in his heart, the old blind man then said to himself, “I wonder what the world will be like in a thousand or several thousand years.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Probably human hearts will still be human hearts.”

The old blind man unexpectedly asked a question, “Have you ever thought that, besides the extra-terrestrial demon that was forcibly suppressed by the Dao Ancestor, and the porcelain doll that your senior brother Cui Chan actively abandoned, are there any other possibilities, like ten thousand years ago, to turn this world upside down again, and replace its master?”

Chen Ping’an hesitated for a moment and said in his heart, “I can’t think of any, but I hope that day doesn’t come. If that day really comes, I hope, just hope, to try to leave a way out.”
The old blind man patted the young Sword Immortal on the shoulder, “Chen Qingdu’s looks aren’t much, but his taste is impeccable.”

Chen Ping’an could only offer a wry smile, finding himself speechless.

The old blind man, recalling something, pointed north, “Gan Tang is passing by this area with his disciple. They’re currently near the mirage. Not long ago, that girl Ning convinced the old deaf man to become an offering at your Fallen Mountain. Gan Tang’s eyes lit up at the suggestion and happily agreed, determined to freeload off you in the future.”

Chen Ping’an felt that something was amiss. Given the old deaf man’s habit of avoiding trouble whenever possible, it was unlikely that he would want to go to Treasure Bottle洲. If he happened to encounter Ning Yao, it would be more logical for him to follow her to the Colorful World. At the very least, if the old deaf man really wanted to rely on him, going to Greenweed Sword Sect of Cottonleaf洲 would be the more probable choice.

The old blind man sighed sentimentally, “Joy is but the prelude to sorrow.”

Chen Ping’an pondered seriously, then slowly replied, “The reverse is also true.”

The old blind man chuckled, “Some say that the final Hidden Official of the Great Wall of Sword Qi, young and promising, is both responsible and strategic, excelling in both literary and martial arts, with limitless potential.”

Chen Ping’an sensed danger and firmly refused to respond.

The old blind man continued, “A man who can be enshrined in the Martial Temple while still alive.”

Upon hearing this, Chen Ping’an’s head swelled to the size of a winnowing basket.

The old blind man said, “What if he also enters the Confucian Temple of the Central Earth to partake of the pig’s head offering? Wouldn’t that mean one person enshrined in both the literary and martial temples simultaneously?”

Chen Ping’an, already weary in spirit and form, nearly lost his Dao heart. He had to take a deep breath to steady himself.

A Mountain Master Chen, accustomed to a certain atmosphere at Fallen Mountain, couldn’t withstand such sycophancy, especially when it was a thinly veiled attempt to praise him to death.

In the history of the various dynasties of Vast Sky World, there had never been such a person. Only in some minor countries throughout history had anyone managed to enter both the literary and martial temples, but even then, they were few and far between.

To simultaneously enter the Confucian Temple of Central Divine Continent and the Martial Temple, the ancestral home of military strategists? Whoever thought of that was out of their mind!

Chen Ping’an asked in a deep voice, “May I ask, senior, which damned bastard uttered such absurd words?”

*I’m going to wring his head off.*

The old blind man chuckled, “Just some pleasantries, hear them and forget them. Why inquire so deeply?”

Chen Ping’an replied with a gentle smile, “I must meet him and express my gratitude in person.”

The old blind man was silent for a moment before providing the answer, “Me.”

Chen Ping’an was silent for a long while, “I am grateful for your high regard, senior.”

The old blind man, whose Daoist title or name was Zhi Ci, said, “What a pity.”

Chen Ping’an knew what the senior was referring to, but he couldn’t say anything himself.

Years ago, there were two children of the same age.

One had the best fate, but he didn’t think so.

One had the toughest fate, but he didn’t know it.

Different family backgrounds, similar mindsets, so they both lived in solitude.

Their childhoods were never spent playing and frolicking with their peers.

Under the same brilliant starlight, one rested his cheek on his hand, gazing at the sky, sitting on a small mound of earth at the Immortal’s Graveyard. The other lay on the ridge of a field, a blade of grass in his mouth, legs crossed, the flowing water gurgling in the ditch.

They watched the same starry sky together.

(End of Chapter)