Previously, Cao Ci, along with his two newly accepted disciples, entered the Great End Dynasty territory through that Palm Vein Ferry. They entered Cloud Canopy Prefecture. Upon the ship’s arrival, Cao Ci disembarked ahead of time, leading them to wander the mountains and rivers on foot. The Dou Clan held sway over this ancient prefecture. Coincidentally, both of his senior female apprentices were currently here, and Cao Ci wished for his two disciples to meet their fellow sect elders. Because the Dou Clan’s Old Patriarch was about to celebrate his ninetieth birthday. Cao Ci calculated the time and found they had ample leisure, so he intended to let Ji Jie and Bai Yu temper their bodies along the way. Earlier, on the ferry, his identity had been recognized. Even though Cao Ci closed his doors to guests, not to mention those knocking for a visit, even those who walked along the outer corridors “to watch the spectacle” were endless. Cao Ci found it unbearable. He himself didn’t mind, but his two disciples had long become distracted. Within a few days, they had developed an unavoidable sense of estrangement from their master, no longer with the mindset they had when they first met.

At the beginning of the voyage, their minds were simple, lively, and unrestrained. They practiced whatever Cao Ci taught them, and their respective fist intents became purer and more agile, a good sign. But once they roughly understood the weight of the name “Cao Ci,” their fist intent began to stagnate. The same stance and fist technique, no matter how much they learned and practiced, became incomparably heavy, as if each punch was burdened with the weight of “Master Cao Ci.”

The two children became increasingly silent and restrained. Now, the way they looked at their master, Cao Ci, had changed in their expressions and eyes.

They feared him as if seeing a ghost, and revered him as if encountering a deity.

Since things had come to this, Cao Ci simply clarified what he should have said upon arriving at the Great End capital. Now that they had become disciples, they would have to know some things sooner or later. So, Cao Ci neither deliberately exaggerated nor tried to conceal anything. He told the two children roughly who their grandmaster was, as well as the identities of their three senior brothers and sisters.

Perhaps feeling it wasn’t good to leave their newly recognized “master” in such a state, Bai Yu tentatively asked, “Master, since our sect is so powerful, and you are so famous that even those immortals on the ship were vying to meet you, as if uttering a word with you was akin to striking it rich, does that mean you have never lost a fight?”

Cao Ci smiled and said, “I haven’t lost yet, perhaps because your master hasn’t exchanged blows with many people.”

Ji Jie curiously asked, “Then does Master have any opponents whom you consider formidable?”

Cao Ci nodded and said, “Of course, there are. Not to mention those older generation grandmasters, just those around my age, there is a pure martial artist named Chen Ping An, the same age as me, perhaps a few months younger. His fist techniques are very profound. Besides, there are seven or eight others whom I haven’t met, only heard of. They are about one or two realms behind me. I believe their future martial achievements will be very high.”

Cao Ci’s so-called one or two realms, of course, regarded the three layers of the Pinnacle Realm as a single realm.

Ordinary martial artists, when speaking of those who are lower in realm than themselves, yet claiming their future martial achievements will be significant, inevitably carry a hint of self-promotion or arrogance. Most people would find it awkward and uncomfortable to hear.

But when Cao Ci spoke, his words were calm, and the listeners were willing to accept them.

He remembered that Chen Ping An’s birthday was May 5th, while Cao Ci’s was February 2nd, making him three months older than Chen Ping An.

“If he could focus on martial arts, I believe his fist techniques would be even higher.”

“It’s just that he has many identities, and he can’t relax for a moment.”

“The rumors and stories about him in the martial world are actually far more numerous than mine. He is a great celebrity. When you arrive in the capital and settle down there, you will hear more and more about him. Usually, fame precedes reality, but Chen Ping An is different. He lives up to every identity.”

“People who are both talented and willing to work hard are often high-spirited. When such people lose a fight, they don’t lose heart, but become more courageous with each setback. It sounds simple, but it’s actually very difficult.”

“His fist techniques are complex, but he can integrate and fuse them into one. It’s just that his martial ethics… are so-so.”

Listening to Cao Ci’s娓娓道來 words, the two children exchanged glances, finding it somewhat strange.

Other than the methodical teaching of fist techniques and explanation of principles, their master usually wasn’t so talkative.

So Bai Yu and Ji Jie felt that this fellow named Chen Ping An, aside from having so-so martial ethics, was extraordinary in every other aspect.

Cao Ci was indeed a very dull and uninteresting person.

He usually didn’t speak much, had few friends, didn’t like drinking, didn’t like socializing. Besides learning fist techniques, Cao Ci’s only interest was reading.

Moreover, he generally only read one type of book: calculations.

It was the two children’s first time becoming disciples, and it was Cao Ci’s first time being a master. He wanted to use the opportunity of touring the great rivers and mountains together to relieve the complex mindsets of his two direct disciples.

Those who study fist techniques, if they take the sect’s reputation and ancestral fist techniques too lightly, are prone to superficiality and poor skills, relying too much on things external to themselves and their fist techniques.

But if they go to the extreme, and martial artists take both too seriously, it’s not a good thing either. They are prone to looking down on themselves, viewing the “I” too lowly, too lightly.

As they saw the various scenery along the way, Cao Ci spoke little, only telling the two children about the local customs and practices.

In his spare time, Cao Ci would take out three yellowed old drawings, which he had personally drawn when he was practicing fist techniques in a thatched hut at the Sword Qi Great Wall. They depicted the muscles, meridians, and bones and organs of the human body, as well as the routes of acupoints and qi and blood flow throughout the body. He let his two disciples observe the three drawings to give them a more intuitive understanding. In the blank spaces of the drawings, there were various annotations and small auxiliary diagrams written in tiny characters. In fact, Cao Ci had several other books, but he was worried that they would try to swallow more than they could chew, so he didn’t take them all out at once.

Perhaps few martial arts grandmasters could imagine that martial arts could be related to mathematics, calculations, mechanical structures, and so on. It even involved the Dao transformation and Dao traces of immortals.

This was Cao Ci’s unique understanding of martial arts. For example, the memory of the whole body’s muscles was like a dry riverbed waiting for a torrent of pure qi to flow through it like a flood.

To give an analogy, if saying that a fist is like an arrow is a description of ordinary martial arts grandmasters, then Cao Ci’s fist is like a ballista.
Back then, on the city wall, Cao Ci was neighbors with the Great Sword Immortal. The latter would occasionally share some insights with Cao Ci, such as the Peak Realm being a still, mountain-top temple, the flourishing of Qi determining the size of the foundation, the return to Origin determining the purity of the incense, and the arrival of the Divine being a complete “Divine Path” from the mountain gate to the hall to offer incense. By extension, to reach the Peak Realm, one must step-by-step ascend to the “mountain top,” naturally a “long journey,” and the “Golden Body” is the prototype of the idol to be enshrined in that temple… Therefore, a clay Bodhisattva must not only cross the river but also climb the mountain. A martial artist’s pure True Qi is like a stick of incense.

Unfortunately, whenever Cao Ci raised questions, the Great Sword Immortal always brushed them off, claiming he wasn’t a martial artist.

Today, the master and his two disciples arrived at a riverside ferry, planning to cross the river by boat. The riverbank was lined with stalls selling river delicacies, reeking of fish.

Now that she was truly learning the fist, her senses had become increasingly acute, and Bai Yu pinched her nose with all her might.

Previously, the little girl had an insight, saying that the scenery of the world was like a painting in front of her eyes. Before learning the fist, it was a fake; after learning the fist, the picture gradually changed from blurry to clear, with every detail visible, becoming a genuine work.

Their master had said that this analogy was very vivid, but perhaps not entirely accurate.

As for what was inaccurate, Cao Ci didn’t explain specifically.

Bai Yu asked a question she had been curious about for a long time: “Master, in learning the fist, which is more important, talent or hard work?”

Cao Ci replied: “Both are important. Your Martial Uncle Ma once used an analogy, saying that practicing martial arts is like a hungry man cooking rice. Without talent, relying solely on hard work, unable to find the right path, is like a skilled woman unable to cook without rice, achieving only limited success, like the ceiling of a house, very low. With talent, but unwilling to practice diligently, is like sitting on a granary and a big cooking stove, only using a small pot to cook rice and a small bowl to eat from every day, the martial arts achievement will not be too high either.”

Ji Jie became even more curious and asked: “Master, your current abilities, are they due to talent or hard work?”

Cao Ci honestly said: “I have been diligent in practicing the fist, but ultimately, it is still due to talent.”

The two children exchanged glances, one happy and one worried. Bai Yu felt that she was very similar to her master, while Ah Xian felt that his chances of becoming an unparalleled expert were slim.

Cao Ci added: “The Golden Body Realm of a martial artist is a clear watershed. Before that, talent and hard work are both important, but after that, talent is more important.”

The little girl grinned and said: “In the end, talent is the most important thing.”

Cao Ci smiled, “Another Martial Uncle Liao once said that learning to work hard correctly, first of all, prevents you from going down the wrong path, and secondly, allows you to walk faster on the right path. Isn’t that also a kind of invisible talent?”

Ji Jie asked in confusion: “Master, aren’t there one man and two women in your generation, where did another Martial Uncle come from?”

Cao Ci laughed: “I forgot to tell you that in the martial world and on the mountains, the terms Martial Uncle and Martial Aunt can be used for both men and women. Heaven, Earth, Ruler, Parents, and Teacher. Scholars are accustomed to calling their teachers and respected seniors ‘Sir’, and in fact, some women with great learning and high virtue are also respectfully called ‘Sir’, which carries even more weight.”

They suddenly understood. They remembered that in their hometown martial arts gym, the master also took in a female disciple, but that same day, his wife scratched his face full of wounds, and the master didn’t dare to fight back from beginning to end.

Bai Yu asked: “Why is it all their reasoning? Master, don’t you have your own sayings?”

Cao Ci said: “Practicing the fist is as commonplace to me as breathing, so naturally I can’t say any grand principles. Before accepting you as disciples, I never thought about any fist principles, and I am making up for it now.”

After a moment of pause, Cao Ci said: “If you want to learn the kind of fist principles that are qualified to be written down on paper, I can introduce you to someone in the future. He is better at that.”

He had sparred with his eldest disciple four times. Asking him to speak about fist principles to his two personal disciples wouldn’t be too much to ask, presumably.

Bai Yu asked: “This friend of Master’s, must understand a lot of fist principles, but his fighting skills are average?”

Cao Ci said helplessly: “You can’t say that.”

Ji Jie said: “It’s that Chen Ping’an with ordinary martial ethics, right?”

Cao Ci held back his laughter, “We can only say such things in private, don’t say them in front of him.”

Standing by the water, Cao Ci suddenly asked: “Actually, Master has also figured out a fist principle, do you want to hear it?”

The two children nodded in unison.

Cao Ci pointed to himself, “This human body, the sky and earth are clear, a harmonious Qi, I am the master.”

“This kind of inner-seeking martial realm, I describe as the world’s number one who does not need to seek externally.”

Saying this, Cao Ci smiled and added, “Just listen to this kind of grand principle.”

Bai Yu said: “I heard it in a daze, but it sounds very domineering.”

Ji Jie exclaimed: “No wonder Master is so powerful.”

The little girl nudged her peer with her elbow, “Dull Ah Xian, did you remember it?”

Ji Jie nodded, “I remembered it. I listened to it like the Emperor’s edict.”

Cao Ci smiled wryly.

On the boat, business was slow, and there were few passengers. By the window, there was a thin young girl warming up her voice to sing, with a man beside her playing the erhu, stopping from time to time to correct the girl’s singing flaws, presumably doing that kind of rural theater troupe business, earning money by traveling between shows.

Cao Ci ordered three bowls of pickled mustard tuber and shredded pork noodles. At the next table sat a kind-looking old man with an official air, accompanied by two shrewd attendants, sitting upright with straight backs, his eyes constantly scanning the cabin, guarding against assassins.

The old man probably regarded the gentle and refined Cao Ci as a scholar and took the initiative to invite him to share a table. Cao Ci wanted to decline, but seeing that the two children were really bored, he agreed. The old man was quite talkative, and Cao Ci, not good at socializing, was a good listener, so they got along well. The old man said that he had spent most of his life in officialdom, often being sent out as a local official. During his travels, he loved river journeys the most, finding it very pleasant, eating fish and shrimp every day, a great enjoyment. Now that he had retired and returned home, especially with a fairly ample official purse, he was even more leisurely.

The old man laughed and said that there were only four seasons in a year, with bitter heat in the hot summer and severe cold in the winter. An old man like him, with little and weak Qi and blood, suffered day and night.

Cao Ci always nodded with a smile.
Having disembarked and walked some distance, Cao Ci finally told his two chattering disciples, who were busy guessing the old man’s identity, that the elder was actually a mountain deity on an inspection tour, with a high-ranking official position that allowed him to govern both mountains and waters.

Meanwhile, those back on the boat were also speculating about Cao Ci’s identity, mistakenly believing him to be an enlightened cultivator of immortal arts, possessing Daoist aura, traversing mountains and rivers, and accustomed to the strange and unusual.

The setting sun cast its final rays, like a mountain ghost hanging in the sky.

Having met a mountain deity, and even seen a whole host of immortals earlier on the immortal ferry, and even encountering a ghost in the dilapidated ancestral temple back home, the two children were starting to become accustomed to the extraordinary.

With the awakening of their fist intent, they had essentially entered the realm of martial arts. Even without the light of a fire, traveling at night was no longer a major issue. Cao Ci told them that when walking on ancient trails and wilderness paths on moonless nights, ghostly beings often carried lanterns, illuminating themselves but not others. Therefore, even ordinary townsfolk, unless physically weak, lacking vital energy, or deficient in Yang energy, would not be able to see them.

Despite his explanation, the mountain night was still eerie, with the harsh cries of hawks and the chirping of wood spirits, causing goosebumps to rise on the children’s skin.

Suddenly, in a gloomy mountain hollow, they encountered a colossal mansion, resembling the residence of a prince.

The master and disciples faced a choice: either return the way they came or approach the gate and ask for lodging.

Before Cao Ci knocked on the door, he instructed Pianpian and A’xian to suppress their fist intent as much as possible.

The door was opened by a kind-faced old servant. Upon seeing the two children beside Cao Ci, the aged man hesitated to refuse, saying that his mistress was a widow living here and it was not suitable to entertain guests.

Not far behind the old man, a pair of siblings, about four or five years apart in age with similar features, appeared. They were dressed in simple clothes, but the old man smiled and called out, “A’guan.”

In noble families, there were many rules and regulations. For example, children were generally not allowed to wear luxurious silk clothing, as it was believed to bring misfortune. Therefore, they wore plain cloth all year round, only wearing altered old clothes.

“A’guan” was a respectful title used by servants to address the children of their masters. However, these siblings, who should have been living in luxury, looked somewhat pale and thin, lacking vibrancy.

The young girl clutched her brother’s hand tightly, afraid to look at Cao Ci and his disciples.

According to the local custom, there was a ancestral sacrificial book with explicit instructions on the types and styles of dishes, incense, and candles. When a girl reached the age of fourteen, she would have her hair styled into a bun, wear a red dress, and pay respects to the ancestral portraits in the ancestral hall, signifying that she was eligible for marriage from that day onward. The old man claimed to be a “grave relative,” skilled in bricklaying and carpentry, who had come to help with repairs. “Grave relatives” were the servants and their families who were specially responsible for managing the ancestral tombs of large families, and the relationship between them was as close as relatives.

Cao Ci and his disciples stayed overnight. Nothing happened that night. Cao Ci read late into the night, and before dawn, he set off with the two sleepy children, leaving the mansion.

As dawn approached, the two children noticed a woman holding an umbrella on the road behind them, accompanied by the radiant siblings, bidding them farewell from afar before vanishing.

Bai Yu softly asked, “Master, the entire mansion was filled with ghosts, right?”

Cao Ci nodded. “That’s why I told you to suppress your fist intent earlier, to avoid offending them. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been a simple request for lodging but an act of seeking revenge.”

Ji Jie curiously asked, “What about the lady bidding us farewell?”

Cao Ci explained, “Ghosts without incense offerings are like people starving. They easily lose their true essence, either transforming into vengeful spirits or dissipating completely. There are three solutions: the best, of course, is to cultivate Daoist arts, but that requires celestial fate. The second is to consume incense and offerings, which is why both large families and small households need to perform ancestral sacrifices. And the last is to absorb the Yang energy of the living.”

Ji Jie was horrified and widened his eyes, asking, “Master, are you alright?”

Cao Ci smiled and said, “We stayed in their home overnight, naturally gathering Yang energy. We are martial artists, so this little loss is nothing. But it is enough to help the owners of that mansion avoid years of starvation.”

The so-called “years” were actually centuries.

Bai Yu said, “I understand. The old man refused us lodging because he was afraid of harming us children. The elder sister, along with Little A’guan, appeared because they were truly starving but too embarrassed to say so, right? Master pretended not to know anything and deliberately didn’t reveal it, lending them our presence for a night, allowing humans and ghosts to coexist peacefully. Their hospitality lies in that, and we left behind some Yang energy as a gesture of goodwill.”

Cao Ci rubbed the little girl’s head, “Clever.”

A’xian exclaimed, “Master, you are too kind!”

Pianpian protested, “It’s not right that you don’t have a mistress yet.”

A’xian said, “With a master like you, will a mistress be far behind?”

Cao Ci smiled, pressing down on the heads of the two children.

It seemed that being a master was quite interesting.

After this incident, the two children became even closer to Cao Ci.

As they approached their destination, a young woman appeared. The two children exchanged glances, wondering if their future mistress had arrived.

Of course not. The woman was Liao Qing’ai, one of their three senior martial aunts.

Liao Qing’ai explained with a smile, “Senior Sister Dou is overwhelmed with family affairs and couldn’t get away, so she asked me to pick you up.”

Cao Ci nodded and introduced the two children beside him with a smile, “Senior Sister Liao, these are my newly accepted disciples, Ji Jie, nicknamed A’xian, and Bai Yu, nicknamed Pianpian. When I first met them, they already possessed fist intent, which is rare. They learned it simply by secretly watching the stance practice of the martial arts gym next door, applying what they saw and even making it their own. I saw them fight in a rural ancestral temple; they were quite skilled.”

Liao Qing’ai was greatly surprised because, apart from their eldest martial brother Ma Quxian, none of them had taken disciples yet.

Senior Sister Dou Fenxia was just lazy, her catchphrase being to find a good family and marry herself off as soon as possible.

Liao Qing’ai felt that her own mastery of martial arts was lacking and that she was not qualified to teach others, fearing that she would mislead them.

Liao Qing’ai didn’t think the children possessed any special “realm” that warranted surprise.

Shouldn’t the disciples Cao Ci takes be monsters among geniuses to be considered reasonable?

Liao Qing’ai looked at the two slightly reserved children and said with a cheerful smile, “This was sudden, so I didn’t prepare any gifts. I owe you one.”

The two children shyly greeted her, calling her Senior Martial Aunt Liao, one with a low but steady voice, the other with a loud but trembling voice.
Liao Qing’ai found it amusing and asked, “Do they know who Cao Ci is now?”

Cao Ci nodded, “On the ferry here, there was quite a stir. Many visitors knocked on the door. Pianpian asked, so I roughly described our sect’s situation, who our Grandmaster is, and what the three senior martial uncles each do. I also explained the ten realms of a martial artist.”

To the two children from the countryside, they now had a vague idea that their master, Cao Ci, was likely an incredibly powerful figure, and that they had hit the jackpot by becoming his disciples.

For example, earlier in that dilapidated ancestral hall, the mention of “Cao Ci” immediately extinguished the fierce arrogance of the thugs. And on the Palm-Pattern Ferry, everyone was constantly surprised, especially on that immortal ferry crowded with celestial beings. The gazes they received from others ranged from envy to flattery. Bai Yu and Ji Jie were young and not well-read, but their intuition was sharp. They had a rudimentary understanding of human relationships, having seen similar things in their hometown.

If Cao Ci was just a moderately powerful master, traveling together would be a novelty, like sightseeing.

But as Cao Ci’s image grew increasingly grand, encompassing everything, the children felt further and further from home, and their homesickness deepened.

Fortunately, Cao Ci was thoughtful and patient. He deliberately avoided taking the immortal ferry and instead led them on a long journey on foot, visiting famous historical sites.

Liao Qing’ai jokingly said, “Should I get senior sister to orchestrate a grand spectacle, having the Dou family open their ceremonial gate to welcome a distinguished guest, and set up an impressive display? I believe old Master Dou would be very willing.”

Cao Ci shook his head.

Liao Qing’ai asked, “Worried about stealing the show?”

Cao Ci smiled, but remained silent.

He held no official position in the Great End Dynasty.

Just as Cao Ci had no nickname.

The Dou clan in Auspicious Lane was bustling with activity, with a constant stream of guests offering congratulations. Many carriages were lined up on the nearby Vinegar Workshop Street and Children’s Alley.

Knowing that his junior brother Cao Ci disliked such noisy socializing, Liao Qing’ai led them through a relatively quiet side door instead of the crowded main entrance.

A beautiful woman with her hair in a coiled snake bun hurried over, gently rubbing her cheeks with her palm, and apologized with a smile, “I’m so sorry, I’ve been swamped these past few days, my face is almost stiff from smiling. Knowing your personality, I didn’t make a big fuss. Right now, besides the old master, only a few managing uncles are at home. They know you’re visiting today. If you don’t want to socialize, I’ll make up an excuse to decline on your behalf. If you don’t mind, we can just sit in the old master’s study for a while, and that will be enough.”

Born into the Dou clan, a family of officials and nobles, Dou Fenxia had been exposed to the ways of the world from a young age. She knew what it meant to be well-connected: no one dared to pressure you to drink at banquets, and anyone who wanted to toast you had to carefully prepare their words beforehand.

She didn’t think Cao Ci needed to cater to anyone. Not just the Dou clan of Cloud Canopy Prefecture, but the Great End Dynasty as well, and indeed the entire Vast World.

Cao Ci said, “When old Master Dou is free, please let me know, and I will pay him a visit. As for public socializing, banquets, and drinking, I’ll pass on all of that. I’m not good at it.”

Liao Qing’ai’s expression suddenly darkened, and she sneered, “You’re better than that Chen fellow in every way, except when it comes to socializing, attending banquets, making small talk, and drinking obligatory toasts. You definitely can’t compare to him. Heh, Grandmaster Chen, Sword Immortal Chen, Mountain Lord Chen, Hidden Official Chen, so many titles and identities. He must be incredibly skilled at dealing with people to have built such a career.”

Cao Ci smiled, “My martial arts realm is only slightly higher than Chen Ping’an’s. It doesn’t mean I can surpass him in other areas.”

If he hadn’t left the Sword Qi Great Wall so early, and had been able to wait for Chen Ping’an to open a wine shop there, Cao Ci, although he didn’t enjoy drinking, would definitely have visited occasionally to show his support.

Cao Ci remembered the first time he went to the Sword Qi Great Wall, his master didn’t arrange any guardians for him. Pei Bei just smiled at Cao Ci before his departure and said, “Now that you’re going out into the world, people will say you’re Pei Bei’s disciple. I hope that one day, master hopes to hear people talking about Pei Bei, saying that she is Cao Ci’s master.”

Earlier at the Confucian Temple, Chen Ping’an and Ma Qu Xian had a martial contest. Both sides, or rather, their respective schools, had a tacit understanding and didn’t disclose the matter afterward.

Pei Bei’s nominal senior disciple, Ma Qu Xian, had once reached the peak of the Mountain Top realm, just one step away from achieving the Cease realm. However, because of that contest, he had fallen from grace.

Dou Fenxia, with her coiled snake bun, came from the wealthiest clan in the Great End Dynasty, the Dou clan of Cloud Canopy.

Liao Qing’ai, a wild cultivator from the mountains, had taken up martial arts halfway through life and joined the army, risking her life on the battlefield, only to be rescued by Pei Bei.

Because Liao Qing’ai had once dabbled in cultivation, her aptitude for Taoism was quite remarkable. She had reached the Middle Five Realms in her youth, so even though she was now almost fifty years old, she still retained a youthful appearance, with a slender waist and a white-sheathed long saber hanging from it. Dou Fenxia and Liao Qing’ai were now both pure martial artists at the bottleneck of the Far Wander realm.

The master and disciples totaled only five people.

In the eyes of outsiders, were they about to produce five Cease realm cultivators?

Liao Qing’ai angrily said, “How did the news of senior brother’s fall from grace spread?”

It hadn’t caused a great uproar, but the news had leaked out and been learned by those on the mountains.

The implication of her words was that Chen Ping’an was likely the one who had secretly sabotaged it.

Cao Ci shook his head with a smile.

Chen Ping’an wouldn’t stoop to such tactics.

Dou Fenxia said, “There’s no wall that doesn’t leak, especially since there were many people around the Confucian Temple at the time. It’s inevitable that someone saw or heard something and used it as gossip.”

Junior sister Liao didn’t really believe that either, she was just feeling frustrated and had no outlet for her anger. Before Cao Ci came here, the two senior sisters had said a lot of bad things about that person.

Before senior brother Ma Qu Xian sparred with Chen Ping’an, Dou Fenxia used a somewhat rogue-like method, saying she wanted to learn a move or two from Chen Ping’an, which wouldn’t count as a martial contest.

After all, there was a difference of one martial arts realm between the two sides. Whether it was a friendly exchange or an attempt to settle scores, it wasn’t fair in the strictest sense. As a result of that exchange, Dou Fenxia not only didn’t gain any advantage from Chen Ping’an, but she also suffered a significant loss.

Besides Cao Ci, Ma Qu Xian and the others weren’t truly formal disciples of Pei Bei. Pei Bei hadn’t drunk their apprenticeship tea, and they hadn’t kowtowed in homage.

Back then, the old emperor of the Great End Dynasty had made a request, using a flimsy reason to persuade Pei Bei to accept three additional “registered disciples.”
Recalling something, Liao Qing’ai suddenly chuckled. Only now did she realize that there was a custom in her martial sister’s hometown: if a man could undo a woman’s hair before marriage, it was tantamount to a private betrothal, no different from painting eyebrows in the boudoir, or the groom unveiling the bride’s red veil on their wedding night.

Earlier, her martial sister had taken the initiative to provoke that Chen fellow, and he had returned the favor in kind, though only to a point. Chen Ping’an had merely stopped his finger outside Dou Fenxia’s brow, condensing it into a mustard seed of sword qi, which dispersed upon touching her forehead, without harming her in the slightest. It only loosened her Spirit Serpent hairstyle slightly. Wasn’t that just it?

No wonder Liao Qing’ai had noticed her martial sister gnashing her teeth, her pretty face as cold as frost, whenever she came to visit her family. She was clearly thinking of a heartless man.

Dou Fenxia lamented, repeating, “As expected, with a two-realm difference, there’s no way to win.”

She came from the lineage of the Blade-Wielding Warriors.

Sword cultivators among Qi Refiners, Blade-Wielding Warriors among pure martial artists. Both were outliers within their respective groups, most resented by their peers.

It was like someone in the officialdom being both a Censor and in charge of reviewing criminal cases. Their position and duties meant they were constantly finding fault with their colleagues, and those targeted would certainly suffer, even if they didn’t die.

Liao Qing’ai vowed to visit Mount Fallen within thirty years and exchange blows with Chen Ping’an.

Cao Ci hesitated for a moment before choosing to speak frankly, “Senior Sister Liao, some things, even if Master doesn’t say them, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know. You must be mindful of your actions.”

Dou Fenxia frowned deeply. For Cao Ci to speak so earnestly, it certainly wasn’t some trivial matter.

Liao Qing’ai felt both a guilty conscience and a sense of relief, as if she had expected this all along. In short, her emotions were complex.

Cao Ci smiled, “Senior Sister, just be mindful of your actions. If you truly have a clear conscience…”

Dou Fenxia quickly glanced at her junior sister’s stomach, tentatively asking, “Qing’ai, have you been privately betrothed to someone? Is Master planning to expel you from the sect in a fit of anger?”

Liao Qing’ai’s face flushed red, glaring angrily at her outspoken senior sister.

Cao Ci said, “I plan to visit Treasure Bottle Continent soon to pay a visit to Mount Fallen.”

(End of Chapter)