Chen Ping’an prepared to visit the capital of the Yunyan Kingdom. He first sent a flying sword letter to Zhong Qiu, briefly describing the process and outcome of finding Jian Qingrang and the others. He asked Zhong Qiu to pass a message to the newly formed Ancestral Hall, saying that Grand Sword Immortal Mi had personally taken action but only managed to capture two accomplices. The mastermind, a talisman cultivator, had escaped. However, this desolate demonic tribe was certainly unable to cause further trouble, and the excavation of the Grand Canal along the dozens of countries bordering it could safely resume.

The fierce-looking man with a face as white as paper, and his paramour, after some unknown deliberations, hurriedly left the desolate temple and found Chen Ping’an at the foot of the mountain. They said that the two of them were willing to serve the Immortal Senior, toiling like slaves. Chen Ping’an smiled wryly, saying that he was accustomed to traveling alone and did not like being served. They had come to the wrong person and should seek another patron.

Perhaps seeing that this Immortal Master, who turned three demonic figures into ashes with a mere flick of the wrist, was quite amiable, they became even more determined. They prostrated themselves on the mountain path, one wailing and the other shedding tears, recounting their years of hardship. But when they looked up, the scholar had vanished. Still unwilling to give up, they finally spotted the Immortal Master cooking a meal in a deserted post station as dawn broke.

The man was called Fan Tong, and the female ghost was called Xie Sanniang. They asked the Immortal Master if he despised their humble origins and sordid past. Chen Ping’an said nothing, but invited them to a simple breakfast. Xie Sanniang was observant and quick-witted, helping to clear the table. Chen Ping’an did not stop her, joking, “Don’t you two have any self-awareness? Who would dare to take you with them? Anyone who sees our group would misunderstand that we are a gang of ruthless bandits!”

The woman was aware of her reputation and smiled coquettishly, while the man scratched his head in distress. Truth be told, that was indeed the case. His appearance was innate. Even when he was studying in the school, the teacher dared not strike his palm.

Chen Ping’an asked them a question: “If I had killed you the moment we met in that desolate temple, who would you blame?”

The woman spoke diplomatically, but the man was more honest, saying, “Blame my face?” It seemed there was no need for a definite answer. Then, the Immortal Master only asked them about the recent conditions of the mountains and villages in the surrounding countries, to which they naturally replied with everything they knew.

Before setting off, Chen Ping’an said that he was going to the capital of the Yunyan Kingdom, and they were welcome to follow if they wished. The two of them brightened up, as it was conveniently on the way. They vowed that they would only follow the Immortal Senior from a distance and would never allow anyone to mistake them as being in the same group. Xie Sanniang had already changed into a dress from her bundle that would cover her figure more tightly.

The man secretly reminded the woman, “Don’t think that because the Immortal Senior’s magic is divine and his cultivation is profound, you can put a hat on my head.” The female ghost, who practiced the art of extracting yang energy to replenish yin, laughed uncontrollably. She said that with her mediocre looks, she would never catch the eye of an immortal. At this, the man’s face darkened. The female ghost, who had once been a foot warmer and spittoon for a celestial scion, also felt a pang of sadness. The man sighed, feeling guilty, and patted the back of her hand. The female ghost smiled charmingly, grabbed his hand in return, and tickled his palm. The man’s heart immediately fluttered, and his gaze drifted towards the woman’s full chest.

Chen Ping’an, walking ahead, coughed lightly, and the two behind him restrained themselves.

Fan Tong was a fourth-realm martial artist, not yet considered a master in the martial world. After all, only those in the fifth or sixth realm could be called a small grandmaster. This was the only reason why Fan Tong was so destitute.

Xie Sanniang was a willow-tendon realm ghost. As long as the man beside her had enough yang energy, it would allow her to walk freely during the day, as long as she did not get too close to a City God Temple.

The man transmitted his voice in a secret line, “Sanniang, why do you think he changed his mind and allowed us to follow?”

The female ghost smiled in her mind, “There must be some benefit to be gained. Otherwise, why would he bring two burdens along? Just for fun?”

“If we get a chance to pass by a ferry, buy a few outdated Mountain and Water Gazettes to see if there’s any news about ‘Chen Ping’an’.”

“Don’t be so gullible. Do you think we could really run into a big shot whose name is written in the Mountain and Water Gazette? Besides, how do we know he’s really who he says he is?” “I think that one man and two women in the temple earlier were tough customers. Any one of them could have easily dealt with the two of us. Since this Immortal Chen was able to subdue them so easily, he might be a legendary Land Immortal.”

Chen Ping’an allowed them to “whisper” to each other.

If the Birdcage world wanted to become a fully realized small world with the right timing, location, and people, Yu Shiwu and his colleagues were currently focused on working on inanimate objects.

The “archetypes” of various characters were just beginning to take shape. As the saying goes, one grain of rice can nourish a hundred different people. To depict the myriad aspects of the world, one must have at least a hundred people with a hundred different lives.

Like a beautiful woman, with infinite faces, each with its own merits. Currently, there were only fifty or so characters like Xiahou Zan who could serve as typical paradigms. Just like what he told Yu Shiwu earlier, the people and events that Chen Ping’an imagined were often too reasonable, making them flawed. Therefore, as a reward during breaks, Chen Ping’an would let the couple choose some old stories they could tell, whether they were heroic feats or trivial matters, anything was fine. After all, searching and collecting the memories of others was something that Chen Ping’an could easily do to deal with Xiao Xing and Xian Zao without any psychological barriers. But to use this method on Fan Tong and the others, he couldn’t get past his conscience.

One day, when there were a hundred or so key figures in the Heart-Landscape World, all the scenery, buildings, and objects in the Birdcage would be connected. For example, if we were to say “hanging willows tethering horses, high-burning candles, the moon rising above the willow branches, and the shadows of flowers swaying in the courtyard,” these were all still-frame paintings. But with a person, it would be like a fish in water, becoming lively. Moreover, collecting these draft figures would definitely become increasingly difficult. When his true body returned to the Fuyao Lufield Dojo, one of Chen Ping’an’s important tasks during his upcoming seclusion would be to statistically estimate how many different scenes a long-lived old man, presumed to be in his twilight years, would see in his lifetime, perhaps hundreds of thousands or millions, and how much he would remember.

Therefore, Chen Ping’an sent another secret letter to Qing Tong, agreeing on a meeting place in the letter.
A single parasol tree leaf could contain an entire illusory realm. Qing Tong possessed quite a few of these leaves, and if he was resolute about not selling them, could they be borrowed? It wasn’t as if one wouldn’t pay; the interest could even be negotiated.

There wasn’t a single Immortal ferry nearby; the populace of the various kingdoms all flocked to Fish Scale Ferry.

It was evident that after years of recuperation, Tongye Continent had undergone significant changes. The markets and trades had revived; to call it an age of peace might be premature, but the atmosphere of chaos had undoubtedly lessened.

Along the way, short pavilions and willow trees connected to long pavilions. Occasionally, gorgeously dressed women and vibrant young maidens were seen picnicking in the countryside, standing gracefully amongst the scenery. In the rural villages, the crowing of roosters and barking of dogs could be heard, and wisps of smoke curled from chimneys. During this time, Chen Ping’an received a reply from Master Zhong, stating that at least half the members of the Ancestral Hall held a skeptical attitude towards the matter. Therefore, many small kingdoms were steeling themselves and summoning their courage to re-dredge the canals. It wasn’t hard to understand; Mi Yu had been the most zealous in pursuing Qing Rang before. Now, with Zhong Qiu’s conclusion of “kill two, one escapes,” the Ancestral Hall members weren’t doubting Great Sword Immortal Mi’s killing prowess, but rather distrusting that Mi Yu possessed such good fortune.

Would it be more convincing if a lower-realm, yet profoundly blessed, Huang Ting cultivator were chosen?

However, Zhong Qiu also jested in his letter that as long as the Mountain Master showed his face once at Fish Scale Ferry, all doubts from the various factions would surely dissipate.

This was likely what they meant by “a person’s reputation casts a shadow like a tree.” The Hidden Official personally slaying demons in Tongye Continent was indeed more reassuring.

One day, they stopped at a mountain trail, and Fan Tong finally couldn’t contain his curiosity: “Immortal Master Chen, are the trivial matters we’re discussing actually interesting?”

The woman was also immensely curious about this and pricked up her ears, eager to hear the answer. Chen Ping’an casually replied, “Scholars are fond of writing literary notes, recording observations of landscapes, anecdotes from the court and countryside, as well as secrets of the palace and inner workings of officialdom. Furthermore, water spirits, mountain ghosts, fox demons, flower fairies, and plant spirits all need some documentation. It doesn’t necessarily have to record major events; trivial matters are also acceptable.” Chen Ping’an never expected that such a casual remark would energize the couple. They were as if they had been injected with chicken blood. They had initially felt that they had exhausted their stories, but suddenly, they seemed enlightened. After confirming that indeed any matter could be recounted, the woman even took out paper and pen, helping the man calculate by year. A poor memory is better than a sharp pencil; they first murmured and wrote it down on the paper, and after filling several sheets, they would go to Immortal Master Chen’s side and act as storytellers.

Chen Ping’an recorded while jokingly asking them how they had suddenly become so eloquent.

She smoothed the hair at her temples, saying that having her name and story in a book would be a wonderful thing.

He clenched his fists, his eyes gleaming, saying that he had never dreamed in his life that he could become a person with a name and surname in a book.

So that was it.

The man began to dislike his name, which, due to its similar pronunciation to “rice bucket,” had been a source of ridicule since childhood. The man then asked Immortal Master Chen if he should change it.

That Immortal Master Chen said no, this name might be unlikable outside the book, but it would be advantageous in the book because it would be easily remembered by the readers.

At a mountain villa that once belonged to a wealthy family, now reduced to ruins and overgrown with weeds, they suddenly encountered rain and sheltered there. When the rain stopped, the pond water reformed into a silvery mercury swirl.

The couple would discreetly walk away from time to time, each time spending a quarter of an hour or so, and when they returned, their faces would be flushed and radiant. Chen Ping’an moved a grand armchair and sat under the eaves. Behind him, the old house was a spacious five-bay study, containing ten thousand volumes of books. Inside, there were numerous bookshelves, collapsed and tilted, with books scattered on the ground, all worm-eaten and moldy. The paintings that had once hung on the walls had all fallen to the ground, blurred and fragmented. Perhaps many years ago, a scholar with a belly full of books lived here, arranging them vertically and horizontally like walls, and changing the paintings on the walls according to the seasons and flowering periods. Whenever a guest visited and entered the house, they wouldn’t know where the host was and would need to call out his name loudly before the host would emerge, hunched over…

Sitting in the grand armchair, Chen Ping’an began to examine the spoils of war seized during the荒廟 (Huang Miao – Desolate Temple) battle. The sword cultivator Dou Kou possessed a “咫尺物” (zhǐ chǐ wù – a small object close at hand), a hexagonal jade amulet. Fairy Algae only had a “方寸物” (fāng cùn wù – an inch-square object), an ancient mirror of a unique design that even Chen Ping’an had never seen before. However, in terms of inner wealth, the latter was more substantial, with over two hundred “谷雨錢” (gǔ yǔ qián – Grain Rain coins), as well as two magical treasures.

On the other hand, Dou Kou only had a few scattered old, discarded small refinement items of low quality. This was consistent with her background as a wild cultivator.

Sword cultivators were indeed poor. After putting the two objects back into his sleeve, he had to wait for the couple to call it quits before resuming their journey. With nothing to do, Chen Ping’an returned to the house to help prop up the tilting bookshelves. It was evident that the former owner was a true scholar, with all the books being unique editions, containing numerous book collection seals and marginal notes, truly reading the books rather than just “seeing” “good books.”

The couple went to the secluded backyard again today, and when they returned, they saw an exquisitely beautiful woman in a green robe. Xie Sanniang couldn’t help but feel inferior.

The woman in the green robe sat side by side with Immortal Master Chen under the eaves. When the man saw such a celestial being, he didn’t dare to have the slightest inappropriate thought. He only felt that Immortal Master Chen walking with her in the marketplace would inevitably lead people to guess that the man must be very rich. The visitor was none other than Qing Tong, who had come from the capital of Yunyan Kingdom. In fact, he was still hundreds of miles away from the location agreed upon in the letter, but Qing Tong couldn’t stay idle. Although Chen Ping’an deliberately restrained his Daoist aura, he made no attempt to conceal his whereabouts. Qing Tong, being a Flying Ascention Realm cultivator, could naturally see him from afar by using the “掌觀山河” (zhǎng guān shān hé – palm-sized view of mountains and rivers) technique. However, he waited until Chen Ping’an was sheltering here from the rain before deciding to appear. As for why Chen Ping’an would be accompanied by a couple who could easily spark a fiery affair, Qing Tong wasn’t curious about that. He had to admit that those two, though of low realm and insignificant, were quite adept at bedroom skills, a true match made in heaven.

Earlier, upon seeing that Chen Ping’an wasn’t accompanied by the little Mo with the yellow hat and green shoes, Qing Tong couldn’t help but feel a bit more relaxed.

Young Daoist probably counted as half a family member and knew more of the inside story. Therefore, upon hearing of this matter, he was quite indignant. “If your Mountain Master Chen is noble and doesn’t care for empty fame, then give it to me!”

“If the outside world knew that I, Young Daoist, was personally handling the matter, who would doubt anything?”

Due to the absence of Old Blind Man and Li Huai, Young Daoist seemed to be getting quite inflated these days.
This small kingdom of Yunyan, a mere palm-sized land, surely its capital couldn’t be that large. Yet, within this limited space resided three Ascendants. Yang Zhi, using the alias Jing Xing, had become a retainer of the Yao clan of Daquan. The young Daoist who excelled in both Mountain-Moving and Mountain-Forging arts, this Ascendant seemed to have found prosperity and good fortune upon leaving the Ten Thousand Mountains. Then there was Feng Xuetao, whose Daoist name was Qingmi. He had been implicated by Jiang Shangzhen and his reputation in Tongye Continent was in tatters. Unwilling to go to Jade Decree Sect or Cloud Cave Blessed Land, he replaced Zhang Fenggu, whose Daoist name was Old Elephant, as a retainer in Yunyan Kingdom.

Zhang Fenggu was currently the most senior and oldest ancestor of Jade Decree Sect, Junior Brother to Xun Yuan. Both Jiang Shangzhen and Wei Ying, the two successive sect masters, could be said to have been raised under his watchful eye. Someone needed to keep an eye on things here for Jade Decree Sect and handle specific matters. Jade Decree Sect dared not order an Ascendant retainer in such a manner, so Jiang Heng, the young master of Cloud Cave Blessed Land, needed to reside in the capital. His father could speak freely with this Senior Qingmi, but Jiang Heng dared not be the slightest bit negligent, as he was, after all, a deeply accomplished Ascendant.

Decades earlier, when visiting Tongye Continent, even a proud figure like Du Mao, the leader of the continent’s Immortal Masters, probably wouldn’t dare to boss around a wild cultivator like Feng Xuetao.

However, here, only a few steps away from Fish Scale Ferry, Qing Tong deliberately avoided mentioning that Yang Zhi.

Chen Pingan simply pretended not to notice.

Qing Tong said, “Thank you.”

Chen Pingan smiled, “Facilitating others is facilitating yourself. There’s an old saying in my hometown, do good deeds that cost no effort, do them often, and you’ll have good fortune in your old age.”

It turned out that besides moving away from the central region of Tongye Continent, there was another good place for the local demon cultivators of the continent to go recently.

It was a newly emerged sect with the character “sect” in its name, called Wutong Mountain. The sect master’s Daoist name was Qingyu, an unheard-of Jade Purity Realm cultivator.

Wutong Mountain publicly declared that the sect only accepted “turbid currents from the mountains,” Qi refiners who originated from mountain and swamp spirits.

This share of the newly established sect in Tongye Continent was, of course, something Chen Pingan had helped negotiate.

In fact, according to Qing Tong’s qualifications and experience, if he really wanted to submit a letter to the Central Earth Confucian Temple, saying he wanted to create a sect and become the founding ancestor of a “sect” level sect, it was debatable whether it would be approved.

However, Qing Tong couldn’t bring himself to do it and couldn’t accept the result of being rejected by the Confucian Temple. Therefore, Chen Pingan, more precisely, Maosiye of the Rite Academy, played the role of a “matchmaker.”

The Central Earth Confucian Temple allowed Qing Tong’s newly established sect to open its doors widely and accept local妖族妖族 in Tongye Continent. Helping these mountain and swamp spirits, who were constantly worried and miserable, find a place to rely on. The search of the mountains by Qi refiners from various continents often involved some unsavory deeds. Clearly, they were all avoiding disaster, but the cultivators with records were able to see the light of day again and rebuild their dojos, while they had to hide everywhere, harboring a lot of resentment. Now, the Great Fushui Academy was dealing with various conflicts and was extremely busy. Therefore, to some extent, the opening of the Great Canal and large-scale construction in Tongye Continent, sorting out the mountain and water boundaries of various places, was invisibly helping Wutong Mountain drive fish into the depths and gather local妖族妖族 cultivators. Therefore, the only highlight of Qing Tong’s slightly shabby sect establishment ceremony was the personal attendance of Academy Head Cheng of the Great Fushui Academy to offer congratulations.

As soon as Cheng Longzhou arrived, those demon Qi refiners who had submitted to the Wutong Tree completely put their minds at ease. This kind of official formality was the same on and off the mountain.

Fan Tong and Xie Sanniang were somewhat at a loss, and simply stood under the eaves, holding their breaths. No matter how little experience they had, no matter how ignorant they were, Qing Tong’s demeanor alone was enough to intimidate them.

Having been with that Immortal Master Chen day and night along the way, they had become familiar with him and couldn’t help but ask a few questions about the realm.

Mr. Chen claimed to be a Land Immortal, using a sword. He had used flying sword techniques to slay the great demon in the abandoned temple earlier, but you were not skilled enough, had not opened your heavenly eyes, and could not see clearly…

Since this woman could sit on an equal footing with Immortal Master Chen and chat happily, she must also be an unattainable Land Immortal?

Qing Tong went straight to the point and said, “I know why you called me here. Speak, how many Wutong leaves do you want?”

Chen Pingan was rarely a little embarrassed and explained, “Don’t misunderstand, favors are favors, business is business, we’ll calculate them separately.”

Qing Tong asked, “Then we’ll calculate them separately?”

If he didn’t owe this favor, Mountain Master Chen, who had long coveted the Wutong leaves, wouldn’t even think about getting one from him.

Indeed, those Wutong leaves in his hands were probably not even chicken ribs, but they were Qing Tong’s favorite thing, something he would take out to admire from time to time.

Just like here, wealthy families tirelessly opened up mountain forests and built villas and urban gardens, and the immortals on the mountain were equally diligent in creating affiliated lands. Wouldn’t a Wutong leaf, a world in itself, be even more precious?

Chen Pingan rubbed his chin and didn’t speak.

Qing Tong had already planned to skip the business, as it was meaningless. He might as well make it a round number and give ten Wutong leaves to Chen Pingan.

At this moment, a dazzling rainbow light fell from the sky, crashing straight into the pond. It came menacingly, but when it was still more than ten feet away from the water surface, it turned like a feather and fluttered down. The sable-hatted girl said carelessly, “Daoist friend Bixiao is right, when Xiao Mo is away, I have to keep an eye on the Mountain Master. I can’t let him make the slightest mistake while my Xiao Mo is in seclusion, lest the cooked duck that’s about to reach our mouths fly away!”

Xie Gou didn’t come sooner or later, but happened to come at this time.

Chen Pingan himself was a little guilty, “Don’t misunderstand, I didn’t call her over.”

The more he said, the more it sounded like he was protesting too much. Not to mention Qing Tong, Chen Pingan almost didn’t believe himself.

Xie Gou asked doubtfully, “Mountain Master, misunderstand what? It’s only proper for the Second Seat to see the Mountain Master, why would I sneak around?”

That Wutong tree spirit, she recognized, but wasn’t familiar with.

Xiao Mo had said that he was now developed and because he had been a neighbor of Cave Master Bixiao for ten thousand years, he liked to show off. Xie Gou was immediately unhappy when she heard this. Fortunately, Xiao Mo also said that there was no knowing each other without a fight, and the other party had already become a registered retainer of the Azure Ripple Sword Sect and was regarded by the Mountain Master as the behind-the-scenes protector of the entire subordinate sect. Xie Gou then said, really not picky.

Qing Tong, however, failed to recognize the sable-hatted girl with bright rouge on her cheeks in front of him.

However, her saying “Daoist friend Bixiao” and “my Xiao Mo” made Qing Tong aware of the importance of the matter.
Those who have lived long enough in the Dao can boast without hesitation, claiming to be bosom buddies with so-and-so. But almost without exception, few dare to casually claim familiarity with the Cave Master of Bixiao, addressing him with the suffix “Daoist Friend.”

If the Cave Master of Bixiao were to find out, he would make such people truly “familiar” in a most unpleasant way.

Chen Pingan, seeing that the dog demon Xie Gou was not recognized, refrained from saying more, lest it be seen as leveraging kindness and resorting to coercion.

Qing Tong dared not linger. Without a word, he produced a wooden box he had prepared long ago from his sleeve and handed it to Chen Pingan.

Chen Pingan thanked him. Qing Tong said he would visit Wutong Mountain when he had time, to which Chen Pingan replied that he would be most welcome. However, Qing Tong reminded him that when the Mountain Lord ascended the mountain, he should not reveal his identity.

Chen Pingan was speechless.

Is this how you invite guests? Are you really not treating me like an outsider?

After the meticulous Qing Tong had walked far away, not using the shrinking of mountains and rivers technique, Xie Gou said with annoyance, “What’s wrong? Does this guy find me annoying?”

Chen Pingan chuckled, “I reckon Daoist Friend Qing Tong has already guessed your identity.”

The couple dared not even breathe loudly. Chen Pingan introduced them, “I have a small mountain peak, and she is the second-ranking enshrined guest.”

Before they could exchange a few polite words, Xie Gou waved her hand grandly, “No need for pleasantries.”

Xie Gou suddenly asked with a grin, “Are you two a couple?”

Fan Tong and Xie Sanniang were baffled but nodded.

Xie Gou clasped her hands in a fist salute and grinned, “Congratulations on your marriage, may you have many fine children.”

No sooner had Qing Tong left than a yellow-robed old man arrived, eager to join the fun. His cultivation was profound; with a single step, he crossed layers of mountains. The old man’s feet landed on the water, his wide sleeves billowing. With a natural water-repelling power, he drained the entire pond, creating a massive, emerald green water flower. However, in an instant, the water flower dissipated, returning to the pond. The yellow-robed old man walked on the water, stepping towards the house, shaking his sleeves and saying with a cheerful laugh that he never expected to meet Mountain Lord Chen in such a remote place.

The young Daoist had followed the radiant light here, hoping to find an opportunity to make a name for himself.

The feeling of fame after going against a soaring realm cultivator in Yuanyang Isle was quite nice.

Upon realizing it was Chen Pingan, the young Daoist was greatly disappointed.

Fan Tong couldn’t help but sigh inwardly, thinking that Immortal Master Chen knew so many extraordinary people.

The woman, however, felt strange. First, there was the demon subduing in the dilapidated temple, followed by the successive appearances of mountain friends displaying their supernatural powers. This seemingly refined scholar, Immortal Master Chen… one should not judge a book by its cover.

Xie Gou leaned against the wall, yawning.

The young Daoist asked with a smile, “Mountain Lord Chen, who is this Daoist friend?”

Xie Gou interjected, “You’re the one who Daoist Zhi Ci raises…”

Chen Pingan coughed, and the girl wearing a sable hat had to change her words, “…that Eunuch?”

The term “Eunuch” was learned from Zheng Juzhong back in the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Chen Pingan really didn’t dare let Xie Gou chat with the young Daoist for too long, explaining with a mental voice transmission, “Goes by the alias Xie Gou, Daoist name Bai Jing. She and Xiao Mo are Daoist partners.”

The young Daoist maintained a normal expression and clasped his hands, saying, “So it’s Senior Bai Jing.”

Xie Gou curled her lips, not responding.

She was lost in thought. When it came to looks, the old blind man from the Ten Thousand Mountains was truly handsome back then.

Strangely, although Xie Gou had seen Zhi Ci several times before he gouged out his eyes, she never had any feelings for Xiao Mo.

Chen Pingan chatted with the young Daoist for a few words about the affairs of the Great River. The young Daoist was very modest, only discussing the matter at hand, not mentioning his own hard work and merits, like a benevolent person who couldn’t stand others’ flattery.

Xie Gou didn’t like listening to these mundane matters. She went into the house to pick out books, throwing any book with an appealing title into her sleeve.

The young Daoist soon took his leave, returning directly to the capital of Yunyan Kingdom, feeling lingering fear and dread.

Chen Pingan sat back in his chair and opened the wooden box, inside which were ten extremely rare phoenix tree leaves. After this incident, the couple had the idea of parting ways. Fan Tong was tongue-tied, so Xie Sanniang spoke up, finding an excuse to resign. Chen Pingan didn’t try to dissuade them, only saying to wait a moment. He went into the house to get two books and gifted them to them separately, jokingly saying that the books contained golden mansions and abundant grain.

Was this considered being generous at someone else’s expense? Unexpectedly, this immortal lord who looked down on gold and silver was also a practical person.

However, this act was at least a polite gesture, truly making Fan Tong and Xie Sanniang feel flattered.

Although they had initially thought of joining this immortal master, hoping to seek a chance at immortality, it was also very good to accompany him on a journey through the mountains and rivers, parting amicably like this.

Far away from that mountain villa, Xie Sanniang, unlike the rough man, took out the books from her sleeve, her eyes widening in an instant. She then turned to look at Fan Tong, her face mirroring his shock.

The so-called treasures within the books were no exaggeration. Each book contained a divine coin. Xie Sanniang, as a ghost, had at least touched Snowflake Coins, seen Lesser Heat Coins, and heard of Grain Rain Coins.

Xie Sanniang’s fingers trembled as she pinched the divine coin, murmuring, “Grain Rain Coin, it must be the legendary Grain Rain Coin, worth a full thousand Snowflake Coins.”

No wonder the immortal master had seemed to casually ask them during a casual chat what kind of life they would live if they had some spare money.

She suddenly stared at the man. Fan Tong held the divine coin, enjoying the feel of it, before handing it to her. Fan Tong had a private chat with the immortal master, who said that Xie Sanniang could die for him in a moment of life or death. Fan Tong was naturally puzzled, asking how one could know this, how could one be certain, unless the immortal master could predict the future? At the time, the immortal master had said mysteriously that he used to run a fortune-telling stall and could indeed read faces a little.

Fan Tong didn’t think the immortal master needed to deceive him, so he believed it. Since the woman was willing to give her life for him, he had no reason to begrudge her a divine coin.

At this moment, the woman raised an eyebrow and smiled charmingly. The man with such good fortune knew that new tricks were waiting for him.

In fact, there was also a Lesser Heat Coin in the man’s book. The man understood it could be used as his own secret stash!

He must be an experienced person who knows the hardship of an empty pocket!

No wonder Immortal Master Chen’s travels were unhurried and calm.

Outside the mountains, towards the old house in the mountains, the woman, now accustomed to going without makeup, performed a Wanfu bow, and the man clasped his hands in a salute from afar.
The hurried yesterdays, the leisurely tomorrows, lost within it all, a head full of fog. With Xie Gou in tow, Chen Ping’an arrived at the border of the Yunyan Kingdom, walking along a mountain range where five steep peaks seemed to touch the heavens like fingers. This place of scenic beauty was once dotted with abodes of immortals, with many ruined palaces, temples, and traces of alchemic practices. Alas, the spiritual energy was now thin and mixed with turbid, baleful qi, making it unsuitable for re-establishing a Daoist center.

The reason for this visit was that Chen Ping’an had detected a flickering, glimmering divine light in the mountains, clearly indicating the presence of an improper shrine.

Chen Ping’an said, “If you find it boring, you can wander around as you please.”

Xie Gou asked, “We took a detour here to see the conduct of the local mountain god, whether they are righteous or wicked? And then decide whether to lend a hand or seal off the mountains?”

If that was the case, she wouldn’t find it boring at all, rubbing her fists and eager to try.

Chen Ping’an gave a strange answer, “There’s more I want to see.”

Xie Gou glanced at the mountain master’s profile, thought for a moment, and decided not to ask further. Later, within the territory governed by the local mountain god, she spotted a group of young cultivators on an outing. Xie Gou perked up her ears, listening to their idle chatter. They were from several mountain sects with familial ties, and a dozen of them had agreed to go to the capital of the Yunyan Kingdom, where there was a newly established branch of their sects at the Fish Scale Ferry, providing a place to rest. Chen Ping’an had never heard of the names of those sects. It was clear that this group had no Dao protectors. The highest in realm was a ruddy-faced man in the cave realm, short and wiry, wearing simple clothes and straw sandals, with piercing eyes. His name was Zhao Tieyan, and he had an iron mace engraved with Thunder Department runes hanging from his waist. It wasn’t a magic treasure, but a relatively good spiritual artifact. For small sects, it was probably a family heirloom, a treasure passed down through generations. Sure enough, near the ruins of an ancient alchemic jade well, Chen Ping’an overheard a few more words. The man was a law enforcer of his sect, not long in the Dao, but he looked old. His sect was a branch of a side lineage, and now there were only two generations left. Because many grandmasters, direct disciples, and descendants of the main lineage had taken their ancestral tablets, portraits, and all their valuables to the Five Colors World to seek refuge, the man’s job as a law enforcer was easy. On the other hand, the sect leader and the one in charge of money had been begging everywhere, bringing back some gold and silver like swallows carrying mud. The senior sister in charge of money complained every time she returned to the mountain, saying that she couldn’t live like this. If the sect wanted to take in another three generations of disciples, she would have to resort to selling her body.

Every family has its own problems. The sect leader asked him to take this opportunity to go on a long journey to see if there was a way to make quick money and to make friends with some wealthy people from other sects. As for the disciples traveling together, they were also not well-off. If they were really rich, they would have taken a fairy boat. They called it training, but it was actually a matter of mutual support, striving to become court officials or honored guests in the homes of dignitaries in smaller kingdoms. On their journey, as soon as they heard of a haunted house, a fierce place, or a demon causing trouble, they hurried over, lest their peers snatch the business. Everyone wanted to establish their sect’s reputation, willing to act on behalf of heaven and good at subduing demons and monsters. In the long run, as long as they made a name for themselves, the sect would have a reputation. However, after so many years of continuous searching of the mountains in the Tongye Continent, it was not easy to find any remnants of the barbaric demon race. Especially when the excavation of the Grand Canal began, the local demon cultivators in the central mountains and rivers of the continent did not dare to court misfortune, and moved away one after another, naturally cursing the Azure Billow Sword Sect, the Jade Tablet Sect, and the Yao family of Daquan, because that outsider named Chen was the master of the Azure Billow Sword Sect, and he heard that this person was an old friend of the Yao female emperor, so they fabricated romantic stories about this pair of young people of the same age, and the content was naturally as lewd and enchanting as possible. The booksellers had it printed and published, and the sales were not bad, with small profits and quick turnover, it actually became a way to make money. Some small and wild ferry docks were selling this, or it was simply given away by some fairy inns that also did improper business.

Chen Ping’an seemed to be waiting for someone, or maybe waiting for something to happen, so he gave Xie Gou a suggestion, “I heard that a masterless secret realm has appeared in the southern Tongye Continent, you can go and take a look.”

It seems to be the site of a private dojo of an ancient golden immortal, with jade buildings and towers, like a royal palace. In ancient times, the place where immortals practiced alchemy, either left a jade well after ascension, or the wilderness has been submerged as continents.

According to the leaked rumors, the inscriptions on the steles and cliffs in that ruin are all very arrogant.

For example, the stone tablet erected at the mountain gate contains the words “Grant you the immortal formula, you can refine the essence. Yin and Yang cook five colors, water and fire refine three flowers.”

Taking pills and ascending to immortality, there are still a few verifiable examples in the ancient years. Since ancient times, for more than three thousand years, it seems that no one has completed this feat.

Therefore, regarding this ruin that is rumored to have a bottle of immortal pills, the Jade Tablet Sect has already taken action, and regards it as a sure thing.

Perhaps the only variable is that Huang Ting of Taiping Mountain is also said to have gone there… to try his luck.

As for Cui Dongshan and the Azure Billow Sword Sect, they haven’t given him any news for the time being.

Xie Gou asked directly, “Does the mountain master have any ideas about the ownership of that secret realm?”

Wandering around is okay, but if she, as the second-in-command, is to contribute to her own mountain, Xie Gou doesn’t mind taking a trip. Anyway, she’s acting on orders, without any taboos.

If the mountain master thinks it’s worth fighting for, then it’s definitely worth fighting for.

The mountain master acts in an experienced way. Chen Ping’an smiled and shook his head, “I’m just afraid you’ll be bored here, so I’m letting you go out for a walk. The mountain has long proven that these kinds of places depend on fate, otherwise it’s like marriage, a forced melon is not sweet, and in the end, it’s a mess.”

Xie Gou pretended to be shocked, “Is the mountain master pointing at me? Is there anything I’ve done wrong?”

Chen Ping’an was helpless, wondering who she learned this from. Xie Gou hugged the back of her head with both hands and asked suspiciously, “Always thinking of getting me away, is there something shady you want to do? To tell you the truth, I’m loyal to the mountain master, I definitely won’t see what I shouldn’t see, and I definitely won’t say what I shouldn’t say.”
Chen Ping’an explained, “I just thought that with your cultivation and age, you’ve seen everything. Following me around like this must be quite dull.”

Xie Gou said, “Not at all. Just wandering around aimlessly like this is quite interesting.”

Whether my marriage with Xiao Mo will succeed and whether we’ll have a wedding night ultimately depends on your decision as the Mountain Lord. This land has been seized by an immoral shrine’s mountain deity. It’s not a monster occupying the mountain and enjoying human offerings, nor is it a former dynasty’s hero like Bai Mao of Wedge Ridge. Instead, it’s a rogue cultivator who has become a ghost. Since last year, he’s been sending out invitations to heroes from all walks of life to settle here and strengthen his influence. The Mountain Deity’s mansion, of course, won’t admit to being an immoral shrine that hasn’t been officially recognized by the Yunyan Kingdom. As a result, the female ghost and fair-skinned man in the dilapidated temple originally intended to join this place, hoping to get a position as a female official or a military general, earning a guaranteed salary and a share of the imperial food supply. In such a small territory, they like to put on a show of an emperor’s inspection tour at night, with long-handled fans, gongs, and drums, mixed with banners and flags of all kinds, all of which are nonsensical and lack any proper etiquette. They’re just trying to create a lively atmosphere, probably having read a few official history books and vaguely remembered the imperial procession, creating a bizarre imitation. The Mountain Deity’s mansion, filled with a mixed bag of characters, has nightly banquets for guests, creating an atmosphere of prosperity. This group of Qi refiners was just passing by, at least they didn’t seem to be here to cause trouble or freeload. The Mountain Deity’s mansion’s officers and soldiers, responsible for patrolling the territory, saw that the other party had a large number of people and didn’t dare to act rashly, adopting a live-and-let-live approach. The Mountain Deity, upon hearing the report, pondered for a moment and decided to avoid conflict, with the high-sounding reason that his mansion was at a crucial juncture in “requesting recognition” from the Yunyan Kingdom and shouldn’t create unnecessary problems. In reality, he wouldn’t dare to ask such a large group of mountain immortals for passage permits. It would be polite enough if they didn’t come up the mountain to the temple to question him.

The night was fair, the moon bright and jade-like. The bright moon and the beautiful woman were both enchanting, both in heaven and on earth. A young female cultivator with the most graceful bearing took out a jade-colored mat woven from ivory and spread it on the ground, sitting down. Several male and female cultivators from other sects, of similar ages, were chatting with her. The women whispered to each other, while the men tried to find topics to talk about, discussing recent events. They wouldn’t always travel together, often separating and agreeing to meet again at a certain time and place. Cultivators who descend the mountain into the mortal world, even if they appear to be beautiful young women of sixteen or eighteen, might be hundreds of years old. In the mortal world, whether they are tempering their Dao hearts or currying favor with important officials, it’s a common occurrence. Having seen so much of the world, it’s as if everything is fleeting except for longevity, and their hearts easily become hardened, which seems unavoidable.

Like the man who was the enforcer of his sect, he was leading two junior disciples in breathing exercises, but their minds were not on their cultivation. The man was helpless. Cultivators don’t really care for the beauties in the eyes of ordinary people. The reason is actually very simple: their eyesight is too good. Any flaws, in the eyes of a Qi refiner, will be impossible to hide. The saying “fair skin covers a hundred flaws” doesn’t work for Qi refiners. With a focused gaze, beauty and ugliness are immediately apparent. Furthermore, if a mortal woman has a slight odor, it would be like a stench to a Qi refiner with sharp senses. Therefore, a mountain marriage, forming a Daoist couple, places even more emphasis on “matching families” than in the mortal world, in terms of both appearance, status, and aptitude.

Chen Ping’an stood silently on the mountain peak, looking at the group of Qi refiners on the neighboring mountain.

Xie Gou squatted beside him, playing with his sable hat.

Chen Ping’an suddenly asked, “Xie Gou, can you tell fortunes?”

Xie Gou grinned and said, “Mountain Lord, just call me Gouzi.”

Chen Ping’an was stunned. Who taught you that? Doesn’t that person feel guilty? Old Chef wouldn’t do such a thing. Who is this bold and audacious person who dares to deceive Xie Gou like this?

Was it Chen Lingjun again?

Xie Gou was quite loyal and didn’t reveal the person’s name. Instead, he helped by saying, “Aren’t people like Master Zou named by adding ‘Zi’ to their surname?”

Chen Ping’an asked suspiciously, “Then why not call you Xie Zi?”

Xie Gou exclaimed, “That’s right! Oh well, I think it sounds good, it feels intimate.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Let’s get to the point.”

Xie Gou said, “I can’t tell fortunes. I’ve always had good luck, so I don’t need to study that.”

Chen Ping’an nodded.

There are many branches of fortune-telling, and different methods have their own strengths.

On the mountain peak, one of the most accurate but also the most difficult methods of deduction and prediction by great cultivators is known as the “pushing” method.

Chen Ping’an had always heard about it and seen it in books, but had never witnessed it firsthand. That’s why he asked the old Daoist priest about it at the Fuyalou Daoist temple. The old Daoist priest scoffed at this, telling Chen Daoyou not to try to bite off more than he could chew, as this brilliant skill was destined to be unlearnable. Those with deep involvement in the world, even if they were lucky enough to master the basics of this magical power, would find their vision becoming increasingly chaotic and obscured.

Those who deduce and predict destiny. The lower the realm and the shallower the Dao, the more threads one sees, with countless forks in the road. Moreover, the further along a line of sight one looks, the more blurred the image becomes, and at certain points, the image simply vanishes.

At that time, the old Daoist priest slapped Chen Ping’an on the shoulder and gave him a gentle push.

Chen Ping’an fell far away, feeling dizzy. Returning to his original position, he curiously asked the old Daoist priest what he had seen.

The old Daoist priest smiled without saying a word.

Chen Ping’an immediately understood that it was pure itchiness, a legitimate slap.

The old Daoist priest composed himself and said, “For example, Xiao Mo and Bai Jing, it’s not just that their realms are higher than yours, but they also have particularly strong fates. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to live for ten thousand years. So, no matter how you try to deduce, you can’t move them.”

Xie Gou asked, “Did Daoist Bi Xiao pass on the incantation to you?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “She did, but transcribing the incantation would consume a lot of spiritual energy, and the movement within the human body’s small world would be considerable. I carved it on the remaining scraps of a pair of seals.”

Xie Gou reached out and said, “Let me take a look.”

Chen Ping’an took out the oddly-shaped seal with the incantation carved on it from his sleeve. Xie Gou took it, glanced at it a few times, and tossed it back to the Mountain Lord.
Chen Ping’an returned it to his sleeve, asking, “Is the threshold quite high, making it difficult to learn?”

Even with a dao crown imbued with divinity as a foundation for studying this art, Chen Ping’an only dared to say he had grasped a mere smattering of its principles, far from reaching the realm of mastery. He had previously used Qing Rang and Xian Zao as test subjects a few times. As the Old Guan Master said, relying on the vast difference in their respective realms, he could only influence Xian Zao slightly, glimpsing her reunion with Xiao Xing within her inner world. Only that one thread…

Hundreds of “Xian Zao” stood on this golden thread, their connections clear. In contrast, Qing Rang and Dou Kou showed no such distant prospects.

As for Fan Tong and Xie Sanniang, a dozen or so strands stretched out from each of them, their relationship to the main thread akin to that of a primary mountain and its branching dragon veins.

Among them, two relatively solid golden strands likely represented their two different destinies. One went directly to the local mountain deity temple.

The other extended towards Zhao Tieyan and Jian Xiu’s location, intertwined as if tied in a knot, ultimately leading to the death of Fan and Xie!

Therefore, Chen Ping’an chose to enter the fray himself, bringing them along, and then gifting them three Immortal Coins, slowing down to observe the moment when their paths seemed to “connect like dragons meeting.”

Chen Ping’an was waiting for both people and events. Waiting for immortals, deities, ghosts, demons, and humans to gather here. Earlier, when deducing the fate of martial artist Fan Tong and the female ghost Xie, Chen Ping’an saw some blurry scenes. For example, a Qi Refiner named Chu Xi later recognized the small woman as a wandering, rootless ghost with no background. He guessed that she could maintain a flicker of consciousness by relying on a lecherous brute who was constantly replenishing her Yang Qi. There was also a cultivator named Kuang Kui, who, thanks to his family’s learning, was slightly adept at Qi observation…

He had actually discerned that the female ghost showed signs of transforming from turbidity to clarity…

After that, Chen Ping’an did not further deduce the fate of Fan and Xie, as fortune-telling should not be done too frequently, lest it thin one’s life.

Xie Gou glanced at the Mountain Lord.

Normally so clever, always thinking this and that, full of schemes, why did his mind become so dull when it came to cultivation?

Chen Ping’an silently chewed on a blade of licorice grass, having brushed off the dirt.

He was always like this, meddling in other people’s affairs.

Perhaps because he lacked youthful vigor himself, he was particularly fond of those brimming with it.

He remembered the first time he met Bai Mao of Wedge Ridge on the summit of Ink Splash Peak in the Hehuan Mountain region, there were malicious spirits lurking on the mountain at the time.

Then, the swordsman Zhang Yujiao from Heavenly Prison County, and Jin Lou from Golden Summit Sect’s Verdant Peak, a pair of talented youths, arrived together, shocking the Bai Prefecture Lord with their appearance.

The young sword immortal, whom the mountain hermit regarded as unreachable, cooperated with the girl’s divine ability, slashing again and again, decisively and flawlessly.

A cultivator, righteously vanquishing demons, was nothing less than this.

Their youthful spirit was self-evident.

Despite their seemingly indifferent reunion in the Qingxing Kingdom capital, Chen Ping’an probably left Zhang Yujiao with an impression of arrogance.

However, back on his own mountain, when discussing the world with Yu Xuanxian, Chen Ping’an specifically mentioned this matter, lavishing praise on the young swordsman. Chen Ping’an said with a sly grin that the boy had almost said to his face that he wasn’t fit to even carry Chen Jianxian’s shoes, but then added that he wouldn’t. The implication was that, while he admired him, he would never stoop to pretense, deliberately humbling himself to curry favor.

Hearing this amusing anecdote, the Old Perfected One Yu couldn’t help but laugh heartily, stroking his beard and nodding, commenting that this was how a young man should be.

Chen Ping’an squatted down, subconsciously biting his finger when deep in thought.

Xie Gou vaguely guessed what his Mountain Lord was up to, hesitated, but couldn’t help asking, “What are you thinking about?”

Chen Ping’an softly said, “Thinking about things I’ve been trying to understand for many years.”

Xie Gou curiously asked, “Give me an example.”

Chen Ping’an slowly said, “Like the wedding gown ghost, Shujian Lake, a martial artist named Huang Shi, and a certain city god’s lesson.”

Xie Gou said, “If you can’t figure it out no matter what, then just don’t think about it.”

Chen Ping’an calmly said, “Walking a dark path in a narrow alley, there’s only one way to go, no detour. Blinded by the darkness, you can only kill thieves when you encounter them, otherwise there’s no way through.”

Xie Gou sighed, “You scholars just love to get stuck in a rut.”

Chen Ping’an murmured, “A swordsman with a blade once told a young man in straw sandals a little story.”