The truth of Chen Ping’an’s understanding, whether feigned or genuine, mattered little; Ma Kuixuan had indeed been tricked. Seizing the moment of Ma Kuixuan’s brief mental stumble, as a caged bird finding freedom, Chen Ping’an swiftly retreated a step. Ripples shimmered, and a portal materialized behind him, into which he vanished, escaping this illusory realm of the Sword Qi Great Wall and entering a mountain-and-river sanctuary, akin to a silken cocoon, as Zhou Mi once described.

The striking crimson of Chen Ping’an’s robes vanished from sight. Ma Kuixuan, though unable to discern the details, showed no immediate concern. Zhou Mi, however, recognized the stratagem at once. “He employs a ‘Mountain Moves to Me’ technique,” he explained. “That single step was a mere feint. In essence, within his own domain, he can shift between secret realms at will, a more direct and concealed method than shrinking vast earth veins into a square inch. In a battle between equals, it renders him virtually invincible.”

Ma Kuixuan retorted, “Time is fleeting. Spare the chatter and lead the pursuit!”

Zhou Mi nodded, a smile playing on his lips. He tapped his forehead, causing three blossoms to bloom, transforming into a golden Daoist crown, an intricate assemblage of the Jade Capital, Immortal Hairpin City, and Moon-Bearing Mountain, a spectacle of awe-inspiring grandeur. Ma Kuixuan, shrinking himself to the size of a mustard seed, became a streak of rainbow light, soaring into the crown, like an ancient god enthroned in the heart of the Celestial Court. Zhou Mi, with narrowed eyes, followed the faintest trace of Chen Ping’an’s Daoist aura. He strode forward, tearing open a portal with his bare hands, stepping into a bustling marketplace, complete with quaint bridges and flowing streams. Nearby stood a soy sauce shop. Mortals who strayed too close to Zhou Mi dissolved like snow, vanishing into nothingness.

With a wave of Zhou Mi’s sleeve, a wave of formidable energy swept outwards, shearing away the “upper halves” of all people, buildings, and hills within the realm. A stomp of his foot caused the “lower halves” of the world to buckle and collapse, as if a mythical Ao turtle had overturned. In the blink of an eye, the vibrant scene was reduced to ruins, everything crushed to dust and scattered to the winds. Far off, a glimmer of light flickered momentarily. Zhou Mi smiled, knowing he had found his quarry. Seated within the golden crown, Ma Kuixuan formed a sword gesture with his fingers, and a streak of sword light danced through the air like a dragon, carving a path that, while seemingly meandering, followed the natural flow of time. This was the most direct route.

The blade of light, striking a form that had failed to evade, pierced the shimmering guise. The latter, meeting the sword with a surge of fist-formed罡气, unleashed a spray of ethereal water in the clash.

Ma Kuixuan heard a muttered curse, a string of frustrated words, as the target, like a hunted dog, scurried away to hide, seeking to buy time and discover a way to break the enemy’s advance.

Zhou Mi remarked, “He likely realizes I am not the true Zhou Mi.”

If the real Zhou Mi were using Ma Kuixuan as a bridge to this realm, seeking to ensnare Chen Ping’an, he would not require such elaborate maneuvers, and the matter would already be concluded back at the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Ma Kuixuan, frustrated, retorted, “I thought your final pronouncements, words only you could utter, would convince him of your authenticity. Instead, they only aroused his suspicion?”

Zhou Mi smiled subtly. “You gilded the lily. I warned you to quit while ahead. Had we remained consistently false, it would have encompassed a complete truth. It is like adding a brushstroke of freehand flower to a meticulously detailed landscape painting. It feels inappropriate.”

Even as they spoke, Zhou Mi stepped forth, shattering the barriers between illusory realms, traversing lands in a dazzling display of collapsing glass.

Rain poured. A wagon train of refugees trudged along a muddy road. Scattered alongside the route lay crates, some perhaps having fallen, others pushed by the servants in despair. Open chests revealed books scattered on the ground. These inherited volumes, marked with countless seals, had survived fires and insects, only to meet their end in this calamitous age. In this time of war and chaos, books were worth less than antiques; heavy, unable to fetch a price, what better to abandon?

Zhou Mi, still adorned with the golden crown, knelt and picked up a soft, mud-splattered book. Ma Kuixuan urged him to hurry and pinpoint Chen Ping’an’s location, but Zhou Mi bade him patience. He quickly leafed through the pages, pausing to press his finger on the character “Chen” for a moment. Then, on separate pages, he located “Ping” and “An.” With a flick of his wrist, the precious book, once valued at an ounce of gold per page, disintegrated, leaving only three golden characters suspended in the air.

Zhou Mi then stamped his foot, employing a technique akin to summoning deities or commanding earth spirits.

The three golden characters trembled, their brilliance fading, until they turned to dull ash, falling into the mud with the rain. Still, there was no sign of Chen Ping’an.

Ma Kuixuan, clutching his belly with laughter, exclaimed, “Is your skill insufficient, or is Chen Ping’an’s golden body too deeply entrenched?”

Zhou Mi smiled. He gathered a few more books from the ground, reconstructing the name “Chen Ping’an” from the black-on-white pages.

Swiftly, he extracted “Lost Mountain” and “Hidden” from other texts, then “Official” from “Official Travel.”

To avoid further embarrassment, Zhou Mi composed “Sword Qi Great Wall,” “Carp Pearl Paradise,” and “Mud Bottle Lane” as well.

Two shining talismans, now filled with divine light, hung before Zhou Mi, clearly proclaiming “Chen Ping’an of Lost Mountain” and “Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall.”

Each talisman also had a line of smaller annotations: Mud Bottle Lane, Carp Pearl Paradise.

Zhou Mi announced, “Success is assured.”

Ma Kuixuan understood. As Zhou Mi’s lips moved, uttering an incantation, Ma Kuixuan struck first, delivering a punch with the same style and power as Cao Ci.

The intent was even greater than during the Qingbai dispute in the Central Earth Temple of Literature. It was now obvious neither Cao Ci nor Chen Ping’an had held back.

Forcibly summoned, unable to anticipate Ma Kuixuan’s tactics, Chen Ping’an could only defend himself as best he could. Beyond his crimson robe floated tens of thousands of talismans, layered upon each other like rivers, swirling around him to form a protective sphere. Unfortunately, Ma Kuixuan’s punch shattered the talisman rivers. Light twisted, and the view grew tumultuous. Chen Ping’an cast a glance at Zhou Mi, raised his arms to guard himself, and was then sent crashing against a stretched fabric barrier. The heavens, mountains, people, and buildings were pressed into the folds of the barrier.

Ma Kuixuan raised his hand, unleashing countless bolts of golden lightning, hammering the center of the crater.

Zhou Mi issued another divine command, forcibly summoning Chen Ping’an, the “landlord” of this realm.

A streak of purple sword light shot from Zhou Mi’s brow, piercing towards Chen Ping’an’s head, unavoidable at such close range.

Chen Ping’an managed only to turn his head slightly, the slender sword light slicing a deep wound, revealing bone, across his cheek.

In this battle, Ma Kuixuan held the upper hand. In league with Zhou Mi, they pressed the host Chen Ping’an into utter defensiveness.

As the divine talisman’s light faded and Chen Ping’an regained his freedom, fleeing into the boundless void, Zhou Mi pursued relentlessly. He changed terrain, manifesting a grand Dharma form. His feet trod upon the earth, pulverizing a mountain beneath them. Stooping low, his back supported the canopy of the sky. The Dharma form, clad in golden armor, transformed into a towering god wielding a lightning whip. With each lash, striking the ground and coiling the earth, he reduced a city of millions to ruins, a testament to celestial battle.

A thread of sword light crept along the lightning whip.

With a flick of his finger, Ma Kuixuan severed it. The sword light of a sword immortal was easily broken.

The situation was dire. Chen Ping’an was forced to flee, to change the battlefield, using different locations to gain more time.

On the earth below, countless unenlightened beings stared up at the fire that pierced the sky, turning night into day. It seemed that disaster was imminent.

A vast swamp in a barbarous land was filled by a falling star.

The impact threatened to shatter the realm itself. The cracks echoed through the heavens and earth. The illusion was like cracked porcelain.

Chen Ping’an had already left, fleeing to the previous mountain-and-river sanctuary. It was as if he had left the house through a side door, only to return through the front, launching a counter-attack.

Unexpectedly, a small bronze bell appeared in the sky, followed by a giant, jade-white hand. A gentle shake, and the entire realm shattered with a deafening roar.

Zhou Mi’s voice resounded in his mind. “Half an incense stick has passed.”

Ma Kuixuan bared his teeth. “From what I know, this fellow fights head-on. He is not one to flee.”

Despite their advantage, they were unable to inflict significant damage on Chen Ping’an, turning superiority into victory. It was like having a stack of bank notes that couldn’t be cashed.

Zhou Mi chuckled. “Before, his sword was not complete. Flight was of no use. Now that he cannot prevail by force, who wouldn’t retreat?”

Ma Kuixuan, arms clasped behind his head, leaned back in the chaotic dojo. “After all this scurrying, I wonder how far he has unraveled the riddle.”

Zhou Mi urged, “Delay no further, or circumstances will change.”

Ma Kuixuan chuckled lazily. “You are an outsider in this game.”

For Ma Kuixuan, this leisurely pursuit and Chen Ping’an’s desperate flight was like a game of hide-and-seek.

Ma Kuixuan regretted, “I scared them off.”

Zhou Mi responded, “Guiding him towards the Sword Qi Great Wall was a good move. He would naturally recall ‘me’ and the Great Sword Immortal. But, while he was still in the dark, you failed to make him ponder the name ‘Chen Qingdu’. That was a misstep.”

Ma Kuixuan conceded, “It is a shame. I overestimated myself. In the end, I couldn’t summon the complete third god.”

Zhou Mi smiled. “I said before, he is a scholar, one who seeks solitude and is conscientious, so it is impossible for him to call on the name of Chen Qingdu, even in his mind.”

Ma Kuixuan scoffed.

Zhou Mi suggested, “If Chen Qingdu isn’t viable, try Zou You.”

Ma Kuixuan replied, “If it is to have an impact, I must choose the best swordsman.”

Even half of Chen Qingdu’s power, a diminished sword technique, would have to be quite significant, wouldn’t it?

Zhou Mi smiled and shook his head, his expression one of helplessness.

Within Ma Kuixuan’s mind, there were three offering altars, but only one held incense, with wisps of smoke rising to honor the three spirits.

Besides Zhou Mi, there was Cao Ci, and an old man with a sword, the Great Sword Immortal of the Sword Qi Great Wall, Chen Qingdu.

Yet, compared to the former two, Chen Qingdu’s face was blurred and his form indistinct.

Ma Kuixuan’s visualization resembled a mysterious process of “forging and casting,” to create a faceless figure on the altar.

The size of those figures were limited, related to Ma Kuixuan’s realm; the cultivator’s limit was Ascension, the martial artist’s Limitless.

Otherwise, Ma Kuixuan, so audacious as to visualize Zhou Mi, would have simply summoned the Three Teachings Ancestors to grace his altars.

The appointment of a mountain god by the Central Earth Temple of Literature, the Great Li Song dynasty, and a small tributary kingdom of Treasure Bottle Continent were all legitimate, but the grades were vastly different. Chen Ping’an’s thoughts were like an artist putting the finishing touches on the statue, making it lifelike and realistic.

Ma Kuixuan had thoughtfully prepared the statues, waiting for him to arrive.

The Daoist skills of Zhou Mi, the martial arts of Cao Ci, the swordplay of Chen Qingdu.

All three had previously appeared at the Sword Qi Great Wall.

In a secret world where a petty official was setting up a table on the riverbank to pray for rain, and people burned paper dragon kings as they marched down the street, Chen Ping’an leaned on his sword, wiping blood from his temple.

He had been taking a beating, sustaining severe injuries. Fortunately, it was not so bad as to harm his soul or Dao root.

Zhou Mi’s appearance was a mystery; Ma Kuixuan had given the clues, and the answer was imagination.

If Ma Kuixuan was telling the truth and hadn’t accepted Zhou Mi’s invitation to Ascend, then Chen Ping’an would be closer to the truth, regarding Zhou Mi’s cultivation and Cao Ci’s techniques.

Ma Kuixuan’s powers had limitations; he had to take from Chen Ping’an’s thoughts, not conjure abilities.

The hunt was like fishing, with Ma Kuixuan as the angler, the hook being a name.

When Chen Ping’an thought of someone, he would be caught and made real as an enemy.

For example, Cao Ci.

Chen Ping’an’s mind was a river, all the people he knew being fish within the water.

No, not just Cao Ci, Zhou Mi, too!

Chen Ping’an understood. How had Ma Kuixuan become so smart? The Zhou Mi from the beginning was merely a facade. But by guarding against the real Zhou Mi, Chen Ping’an had made him real.

Chen Ping’an only had himself to blame. What he feared, he made real.

Ma Kuixuan had tricked Chen Ping’an. Like a divine appointment, Ma Kuixuan provided the title, and Chen Ping’an made him a real God.

Worshipers must light incense, usually three sticks.

Ma Kuixuan’s summoning ritual must be the same.

He hoped it was.

If Ma Kuixuan was lighting nine sticks… Chen Ping’an was in for a long fight.

He could not stay long. Zhou Mi was like a ghost. Chen Ping’an moved, gathering his qi. No sooner had he departed, than the sky poured down rain. Every drop was a concentrated beam of sword qi, turning the earth into a sieve.

Ma Kuixuan marveled, “Half of Chen Qingdu’s swordplay is so extreme?”

Zhou Mi asked, smiling, “Do you regret it now?”

Ma Kuixuan scoffed. “I never regret. With Chen Qingdu’s swordplay, you can get serious now.”

Zhou Mi smiled, wielding his sword. He was able to attack one or several realms at once.

A sword, of immortal quality, was snapped trying to block it.

A robe, also of immortal quality, was cut.

Standing in the void, Chen Ping’an placed the broken sword behind him. Though damaged, the robes were repairing themselves.

He had almost been bisected. An immortal cultivator could recover, but he would still have to pay for it.

Zhou Mi raised his sword, attacking.

A golden bridge was shattered.

Did Chen Ping’an steal his sword defenses from the rogue Xu Ruo?

The void rang with the sound of sword qi.

Chen Ping’an stood on a bridge pillar and asked, “What price must you pay?”

Incantations have rules. Cultivators take shortcuts, but a price must always be paid.

Zhou Mi replied, “Just kill him. Catch up later.”

Ma Kuixuan and Chen Ping’an were playing in the mud, one saying he had an army, the other divine weapons.

But one was only pretending, and the other could make it real.

Chen Ping’an had his problems. Ma Kuixuan did not answer him. “You figured out you were in my domain, but I read your thoughts, so you thought about it only three times. Now you don’t even think.”

Zhou Mi sighed. “Why give it away? You might fail. Why?”

Chen Ping’an was expressionless.

The altars crumbled, like those at his hometown.

Zhou Mi realized the truth. “Well done, Chen Ping’an. You didn’t deceive me.”

Chen Ping’an had used a skill to cut himself, also cutting away Zhou Mi, Cao Ci, and Chen Qingdu.

Ma Kuixuan, also on a pillar, asked, “You pay such a price, just to humor me?”

Chen Ping’an sat on the bridge pieces. “To show that I was only playing with you.”

Ma Kuixuan asked, “Really?”

Chen Ping’an said, coldly, “Why would I trick a fool?”

Ma Kuixuan looked at him.

Chen Ping’an had been wounded, severely, and his sword broken. It must have been real.

Ma Kuixuan asked, “You heard Zhou Mi, and then figured it out? You guessed who I would summon? You counted on Chen Qingdu?”

Chen Ping’an said, “You are still thinking of Chen Qingdu? Let’s see. Can you summon him faster than I can forget him?”

Ma Kuixuan asked, “Did you use the River of Time?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “I thought about it, but didn’t. It would cost more than this.”

Ma Kuixuan nodded. “That makes sense. Or it would be unfair. Even though you’re lower than me, I would be defeated.”

Ma Kuixuan said, rising, “If I win, that will be the end. If I lose, agree to something.”

Chen Ping’an said, “What is it? I might not accept.”

Ma Kuixuan said, “The Ma family. Those who should die, let them, and make it quick. Let those who should live, live. Don’t control them.”

Chen Ping’an was silent.

Ma Kuixuan smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Ma Kuixuan expanded. He grabbed a star and threw it at Chen Ping’an.

Chen Ping’an swiped his sleeve, smashing a galaxy at Ma Kuixuan.

The two used powers not seen before.

If they weren’t illusions, the cultivators from all schools would go insane.

The damage was only fake to the outside, not to the two fighting.

Time passed.

Ma Kuixuan summoned a statue of Chen Qingdu.

Chen Ping’an instinctively attacked.

Ma Kuixuan was turned to ash.

Ma Kuixuan sat in the void, turning into gold. A light appeared in the sky, for the soul to leave. However, it stopped, as if looking back at Chen Ping’an. Then, it vibrated, shattering itself, refusing any afterlife. Golden rain fell.

He didn’t want to be reborn, or he was simply trusting Chen Ping’an.

The Ma family awoke. They had dreamt.

The parents had dreamt of stopping Chen Ping’an, becoming gods, and their family growing. But then it had become a nightmare, being interrogated at the city god’s. They would have to be reborn many times before being human again. The couple would be reunited, but then die.

The Ma family awoke, seeing each other as enemies.

The once rooted family began to fall apart.

Chen Ping’an stood outside the gates. It was still the Qingming holiday, but the rain had stopped.

He wore blue, carrying an umbrella. He walked.

————

In Changning County, the Daoist Wu Di, who was a fortune-teller, had left his belongings at his home.

Chen Ping’an passed by a shrine and went back in time to the Sword Qi Great Wall.

Li Sheng was there.

It was fake.

Chen Ping’an bowed.

Li Sheng nodded. “The Zhou Mi that Ma Kuixuan created was fake. But Zhou Mi might have seen your state.”

Chen Ping’an sighed in relief.

“You are hurt badly.”

“It is better than I had thought.”

He had to reforge the sword, and repair the robes.

It was a headache, but better than losing a realm.

He had seen Zhou Mi and knew he had to be careful. If he was real, the consequences would be dire. He had to warn the Temple of Literature without them helping him with his revenge. Ask Li Sheng!

Chen Ping’an only knew how to shrink space. He had to warn the Temple of Literature. He had to call out Li Sheng’s name.

Li Sheng had merely replied that he knew, but nothing else.

Still, Chen Ping’an felt relieved and fought Ma Kuixuan.

Li Sheng asked, “You have waited so long. How do you feel?”

Chen Ping’an was tired. He sat on the wall, looking into the distance. The Great Wall was real, but the rest of the land was wrong. The mountains were all there. It was like a warehouse. Chen Ping’an was silent. “I did what I had to do. There isn’t any joy.”

It felt as it should.

Li Sheng smiled. “Drink if you wish.”

Chen Ping’an drank from the gourd.

Li Sheng asked, suddenly, “If you were me, what would you do? Answer in one sentence.”

Chen Ping’an was speechless. He had never thought of that.

Li Sheng and the Mountain Lord had reformed much in the past.

Historians said it was too loose.

In fact, Li Sheng’s reforms were too complex.

Chen Ping’an hesitated and said, “Find the highest common denominator for all things under heaven?”

Li Sheng nodded. “Not bad. A national teacher.”

Chen Ping’an knew it was not good enough. He was familiar with such terms.

Chen Ping’an played with some snow. “Don’t let me work at the Temple of Literature?”

If Li Sheng became 15th realm, there would be a vacancy. Chen Ping’an didn’t want to fill Li Sheng’s seat.

Li Sheng looked at Chen Ping’an, smiling.

Chen Ping’an knew he had thought too much.

“You are bold. Why don’t you say you want to replace me?”

Chen Ping’an was not embarrassed. Who had brought on such a frivolous atmosphere?

Li Sheng needed to watch the path of the Azure Dao. He had heard about Chen Ping’an from Yu Xuan and called him Daoist friend.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Have you ever wanted to intervene?”

Li Sheng smiled. “I am old. Fighting is not right.”

Chen Ping’an didn’t know if it was a joke. He suspected it was.

Xie Gou had told him that Xiao Mo had said the scholar was strong, so he was not afraid.

At the end of their fight, Xiao Mo told Bi Xiaodong that the scholar was strong.

Chen Ping’an asked Xiao Mo, who did not refute it.

Li Sheng asked, “The battlefield is well arranged. But it needs someone like your executioner. Any thoughts? There is pay.”

Chen Ping’an said, “No!”

Li Sheng nodded. “I’ll ask someone else.”

Chen Ping’an knew that was how Li Sheng worked.

No need to beat around the bush.

To be the Executioner was difficult.

Those with a low realm would not be respected.

Those who had a high realm, like Zhang Tianlai, would be put in a bad position.

The Executioner was supposed to offend others, and so would not be liked.

Li Sheng said, “You don’t need to feel bad for turning it down.”

Chen Ping’an nodded and drank.

The Sword Qi Great Wall was most familiar with the Wild.

Chen Ping’an was the most well-known person from the Wild.

Zheng Juzhong would be best, and he was the first choice of the Temple.

Zheng Juzhong rejected it. He also wanted to withdraw from the Wild because he needed to train.

Li Sheng knew Zheng Juzhong wanted to advance further, and create his own religion.

Li Sheng asked, suddenly, “Have you been to Zhi Ci’s Ten Mountains?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “I have seen them, but not been there.”

Li Sheng said, “Go to those, and the ruins. Come back here in half an hour. Don’t be late, or you will have to run back to Treasure Bottle Continent.”

Chen Ping’an stood, about to speak, but Li Sheng disappeared.

At the highest mountain, Chen Ping’an landed and saw an old, hunched figure with sunken cheeks. Yet, he was said to have been here for ten thousand years.

Chen Ping’an bowed. “Junior Chen Ping’an greets Senior Zhi Ci.”

The blind man said, “Ning girl just left. She is heading to Fufeng Continent. You cannot catch her.”

Chen Ping’an said, “I have a question.”

The blind man asked, “You want to know why I didn’t help Ning girl in the Paradise?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Not a question, a solution.”

The blind man stroked his chin. “I would have. Over the Great Wall’s ten thousand years, I have few favorite swordsmen. From Long Jun to the unlucky Zong Yuan, to Dong Sangeng, to Ning Yao, I have only seen a handful. But Chen Qingdu stopped me. Strange, don’t you think?”

Chen Ping’an asked, “Did the last priest say something?”

The blind man said, “Chen Qingdu is dead. Ask Yan.”

Chen Ping’an knew he would learn nothing. He said goodbye and prepared to visit the ruins.

The blind man laughed. “I do what I want. Do you think you’re at a toilet?”

Chen Ping’an was calm.

The blind man looked at him. He was under fifty, and outstanding. “How many Chen Ping’an have died so that one could be born? Have you counted?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Too many. I cannot.”

The blind man laughed. “I am foul-mouthed. If I hated you, even if Little Gentleman said to let you in, I would throw you back. So don’t think that just because you killed Ma Kuixuan, I hate you. I chose him because he was the least human.”

Chen Ping’an did not comment. “Did Xie Gou leave too?”

The blind man nodded. “Bai Jing is hiding.”

Chen Ping’an asked, “Can she break through?”

The blind man said, “No. I provoke her.”

Chen Ping’an was speechless.

A 14th realm was playing with a martial artist?

The blind man said, “Is it skill to live ten thousand years?”

Chen Ping’an said, “That is a dream.”

The blind man asked, “Did you know the blacksmith Ruan of Wind and Snow Temple had a student that he had a falling out with, and he was called Liu Jingzhuang?”

Chen Ping’an nodded. “He was interested in divination, and was said to have had a demon and left the Temple. He was also part of the Liu royal family, like Yang Hua.”

The blind man scoffed. “Then did you know that Chen Songfeng had a teacher called Liu Cun?”

Chen Ping’an said, “The records say he had a good background.”

Chen Ping’an was impressed by Chen Songfeng, whom he thought was well-read. They had travelled to find the tree with the scholar and Liu Baqiao. Because Chen Songfeng was weak, he had been a burden, but he didn’t complain.

The blind man said, “A teacher of a young boy said that Daoist ancestors do not mean anything?”

Chen Ping’an looked at the sky.

The blind man said, “I wonder what the world will be like in a thousand years?”

Chen Ping’an said, “People will probably be the same.”

The blind man asked, “Have you considered other possibilities, of a second coming of something that would overturn the realm, like before?”

Chen Ping’an hesitated. “I hope that day won’t come. But if it does, I hope to have an escape.”

The blind man patted the young swordsman. “Chen Qingdu was not good looking, but his vision was fine.”

Chen Ping’an smiled.

The blind man said, “Gan Tang is passing by with his student.”

Chen Ping’an felt uneasy.

The blind man said, “Joy is the beginning of sorrow.”

Chen Ping’an said, slowly, “And vice versa.”

The blind man laughed. “They say that the last Hidden Official is talented, responsible, and has great potential.”

Chen Ping’an shut up.

The blind man continued, “He is a man who can be enshrined in the Martial Temple while alive.”

Chen Ping’an’s head grew.

The blind man said, “What if he is enshrined at both temples?”

Chen Ping’an was near breaking.

The blind man was not sincere.

“There were two children.

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

One had the hardest fate, but he didn’t know so.

They lived lonely lives.

They didn’t play as children.

Under the stars, one leaned on his arm. One lay in a field.

They looked at the same sky.”