Beneath a tree whose blossoms and fruit were beyond counting, a young man of noble bearing and a venerable Daoist of imposing stature sat in tranquil discourse, the shade falling like a gentle stream.

Where moments before the ground had been bare, the coroneted figure—an aspect of Chen Ping’an himself—stirred a thought, and a stone table and two benches materialized. Upon the table, a chessboard was etched, a faithful imitation of the pine-shaded game upon the ancestral peak of Little Dragon Pool.

This was dominion manifest, the power to create and command as one’s heart desired.

With a wave of his hand, the aged Daoist conjured two jars of chess pieces, but these were not black and white. Rather, they swirled with a riot of colors, intermingled without order.

Chen Ping’an glanced at them, unable to discern their true nature.

“Do you know where Liu Qi has sought unity with the Dao?” the old Master asked, his voice like the rustling of ancient leaves.

Chen Ping’an shook his head. Literary fortune, he knew, was a broad category encompassing the will of the people. After Bai Ye, whose poems were verses of the heart, cleared the way, the mantle of literary ascendancy might fall upon Su Shi or Liu Qi. Each had their ardent champions. Yet, the world still favored lyric verse as a mere shadow of true poetry. No matter Su Shi’s boldness or Liu Qi’s sentiment, they stood diminished beside Bai Ye.

Furthermore, Chen Ping’an knew a secret matter. Liu Qi, bearing half of the Ledger of Marriages, had journeyed to the Azure Vault, seeking to establish a blessed land of lyric verse. Though it seemed a path to unity with the Dao, Bai Ye’s shadow loomed above. Unwilling to dwell in another’s domain, Liu Qi sought the remaining half of the Ledger, hoping to forge a separate path and ascend to the Fourteen Realms. Yet this ambition brought him into conflict with Wu Shuangjiang of the Snowfall Palace.

As matters stood, Liu Qi’s eventual return to the Radiant World and his successful union with the Dao stemmed from a secret pact made long ago. Likely, Liu Qi had conceded a point, and Wu Shuangjiang had, in turn, helped him find a new path.

Chen Ping’an’s own Great Refining of All Things, filling a thousand and five hundred spiritual palaces, followed a similar principle to Liu Qi’s quest to refine both halves of the Marriage Ledger—a dominant and subordinate aspect, complementing each other.

The old Master commented, “They say Bai Ye’s poetry is unmatched, a treasure of humanity. But they know not that Bai Ye’s heart, be it through verse or blade, seeks to expand the boundaries of eternity.”

“Liu Qi, compared to him, seems small of spirit.”

“Bai Ye is close to the Dao, Su Shi to the Buddha. Thus, Su Shi still holds hope of union, though not within the Radiant World.”

“A thousand years hence, dragon or worm, will be decided. It all rests upon the accumulation of Dao power within the next century.”

“Fortunate are we to witness such a rare and bountiful era. If we fail to strive now, when lean years arrive, all our later efforts, though not entirely wasted, will yield but half the reward.”

As the old Master spoke, he placed a cluster of colored chess pieces upon the board. Like the game of Xiangqi, Go possessed a dividing line. Those facing each other, centrally positioned, were Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City, Ning Yao of the Five-Colored World, Fei Ran of the Savage Lands, Zhao Tianlai of the Celestial Master’s Manor, and Zhang Fenghai, a former Daoist official of the Old Jade Capital in the Azure Vault. Few enough to count on one’s fingers, they straddled three lines upon the board’s center: Zheng Juzhong alone on one, Ning Yao and Fei Ran on another, and Zhao Tianlai, Zhang Fenghai, and Yao Qing of the Azure God Dynasty on the third.

Other pieces represented the newly ascended Fourteenth Realm cultivators.

Further out on the board were the young Ascendant Realm cultivators. And finally, those who had achieved Dao through a single rain, their path limited, and the aged Ascendants, their forms decaying, destined for a hopeless, long life.

On the other side of the dividing line, the first pieces the old Master placed were naturally himself, the Old Blind Man, Chen Qingliu, and Wu Zhou—a handful of old Fourteenth Realm cultivators.

Upon closer inspection, the chessboard was tilted, the old Master and his peers positioned at the heights, and the newly ascended and decrepit Ascendants at the bottom.

The heroes and sages, immortals and spirits, from across realms, were all players in this game.

Chen Ping’an studied the layout, speaking softly, “To anticipate the Heavens and not defy them, to follow the times after their arrival.”

The old Master nodded. “Indeed.”

The inability of the Ascendant Realm to stand against the Fourteenth was an immutable law.

Perhaps only two exceptions existed in ten thousand years—Ning Yao and Fei Ran, masters of their respective realms, even when they were in the Ascendant Realm. Their status blurred the lines.

Yet Wu Shuangjiang, when she appeared on the Night-Sailing Ship, showed no inclination to “test the law” and personally verify the truth of this.

But to claim that Fourteenth Realm cultivators could easily crush Ascendants, especially to the point of guaranteed death, was not entirely true.

Swordsmen were the wild cards.

Thus, powerful Ascendants, especially those at the peak of the Ascendant Realm who were also swordsmen, became the ultimate test of the killing prowess of both new and old Fourteenth Realm cultivators.

When faced with a Fourteenth Realm cultivator whose killing force was lacking, a swordsman like Xie Gou or Xiao Mo might forcefully cleave through the layers of restraint and escape unscathed.

The reason Wu Shuangjiang had replicated the Four Immortal Swords was precisely because she, the Mistress of the Snowfall Palace and the War God of the Martial Temple, felt her killing power was insufficient.

Wu Shuangjiang’s journey to the Radiant World was clearly well-prepared, especially since Grandson Daoist had “lent” Bai Ye his sword, placing three Immortal Swords within the Radiant World.

Although Bai Ye’s Immortal Sword, “Tai Bai,” had been split into four, Bai Ye had allowed each fragment to choose its own master: Chen Ping’an, Zhao Yao, Fei Ran, and Liu Cai, four swordsmen from different factions, all young.

The sharpest point, with the greatest killing intent, had found Chen Ping’an, guarding the city walls. Thus, Wu Shuangjiang’s encounter with Chen Ping’an on the Night-Sailing Ship could be seen as finding the Immortal Sword “Tai Bai” itself.

The hilt, imbued with the deepest sword intent, had chosen Fei Ran.

The portion of the blade with the most sword energy belonged to Liu Cai. The remaining fragment, containing Bai Ye’s sword techniques, had fallen into the hands of Zhao Yao.

This explained why Zhao Yao, who had “chanced” upon Bai Ye on a remote island, now held a grand ambition to reunite the four fragments into a single sword.

Zhao Yao regarded himself as half Bai Ye’s disciple, half his student.

The old Master picked up a chess piece, saying, “Qing Rang will grow suspicious. Fellow Daoist Yun Shen of Jade Talisman Palace has needlessly acquired an inextricable causal link. He will be furious.”

Qing Rang was not an aspect of Master Yan. In truth, Qing Rang’s origins were much like Chen Ping’an’s—unremarkable, without a notable past or special lineage.

As for how such a person had achieved his current mastery of talisman-making, it was likely a matter of the Heavens providing a path where none seemed to exist. When one travels and finds new scenery, the Heavens themselves wish to witness fresh faces.

Chen Ping’an, wearing a pained expression, asked, “Are you and Master Yan friends, senior?”

The old Master laughed. “Otherwise, what did you think? The old fellow’s Dao age is not short. He often came to bum wine back in the day, a sloppy fellow with a wine-soaked nose, a chatterbox, and a drunkard. However, he and Xiao Mo didn’t get along. They wouldn’t say a word to each other.”

Chen Ping’an said, “Xiao Mo once told me that when he and you brewed wine together, they often wouldn’t speak a single word for years.”

The old Master stroked his beard and smiled. “That is true friendship. No need for words. Prolonged silence, yet no awkwardness.”

“As for Xiao Mo and Yun Shen, though they may seem equally silent, it is because they have nothing to say to each other. Their respective realms, paths, and temperaments are as they are. Neither is willing to yield to the other and speak a few meaningless words. However, Master Yan’s fortune is middling. He has been unable to avoid calamity twice, reincarnating after dissolving his Dao form. I have long advised him that a Daoist’s path should be broad and that his Dao heart should not be so timid. But it is his nature. He understands the principle, yet when faced with a pivotal moment, he cannot act accordingly. Now, once again, his fortune has been seized by a fellow Daoist, Yu Xuan, through his own abilities.”

“As part of the bargain, when you journey through the Savage Lands, go to Jade Talisman Palace and slay Master Yan with your sword. Help him to shed his mortal coil.”

Chen Ping’an stared blankly.

Could deals be made like this? After agreeing on the price, an additional condition was added?

Besides, even if he were to travel to the Savage Lands, it would not be a leisurely journey of scenery and pleasure.

The old Master, heedless, gazed upon the five “guests” trapped within the cage. He needed not even calculate to see Chen Ping’an’s intentions.

Heaven had five elements: metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. Obeying the Heavens, they moved through the earth, dividing time to nurture and create all things, revolving and reciprocating in an endless cycle.

Yu Shiwu, the military cultivator from True Martial Mountain, the vessel from the shared slaying of old, had been convinced by Cui Chan to acquire two portions of martial fortune from the Martial Temple Ancestral Court in the Central Plains. Thus, he possessed three portions of martial fortune. He was undeniably an exemplar of the metal element.

Xiao Xing was her true name, using the alias Xu Jiaoqie, with the Daoist title “Secluded One.” Her emerald robes were known as “Great Appearance.” Her true form was an ancient celestial bird that loved to snatch fire, thus she was bestowed with fire magic and advanced with great speed.

Yu Qing, the cook in the Ma household for many years, was originally Gongsun Lingling, a descendant of the Cherry-Clad Washer of Wrongs. Her element was water.

The swordsman Doukou was of the wood element.

Unfortunately, Immortal Zao of the Frost and Snow Department of Broadcold City, like Gongsun Lingling, was also of the water element, so the five elements were not complete.

The old Master laughed. “That Qing Rang, one need only know his name to discern his element as earth. You missed him.”

Chen Ping’an murmured, “If it were truly such a coincidence, shouldn’t we find it terrifying?”

The old Master smiled knowingly and nodded. “Perhaps you are right.”

Before Chen Ping’an could speak, the old Master changed the subject, offering an assessment. “If we were to grade them, Yu Shiwu and Xiao Xing would be of the highest caliber, Doukou of the next tier, Immortal Zao of a lower level still, and Gongsun Lingling not even worth mentioning. Thus, the latter two can be replaced. Holding Gongsun Lingling here is meaningless. In time, she will be the first to exhaust her talents. Doukou can barely keep pace with Yu and Xiao. Soon, Gongsun Lingling will not even see Doukou’s shadow.”

Chen Ping’an grew confused and asked a crucial question. “Can Xiao Xing truly stand on equal footing with Yu Shiwu?”

The old Master scoffed. “Mere Immortal trickery. You are of the same realm. Can you not see through such sleight of hand?”

Chen Ping’an was, of course, willing to learn. “I would be grateful to hear the details.”

He had only discerned that Xiao Xing’s true form was an owl, a bird long extinct in the human realm. Legend had it that ancient sages had seen such birds swimming in the Azure Vault, their beaks striking trees to unleash radiant fire.

The old Master pointed at Xiao Xing, chuckling. “She cultivates fire magic, therefore she is of the fire element? Who taught you this? Old Scholar, or Lu Xiaosan?”

Chen Ping’an was speechless. The old Master said no more, for there was no point in wasting words.

Defeated, Chen Ping’an dragged Lu the Sect Master into it as a scapegoat. “Lu Chen.”

After all, it was Lu Chen who had said it. Calling him Lu Sect Master would be too formal.

Speaking with the old Master was, in fact, not difficult.

The threads were clear.

Although the old Daoist’s thoughts were of an exceedingly high realm, he did not like to speak of “mysterious words” or “grand pronouncements.” His meaning was never obscure. He never intended to have people guess and speculate. It was like a vast, surging river. One could follow his thoughts downstream or upstream, both were acceptable. Just don’t try to stand on the bank, vague and self-important.

Sure enough, the old Master continued, though he digressed slightly. “How did you find Qing Rang? Tracing back to the source, did it originate from your successful reproduction of Doukou’s spiritual image of a hanging scroll in Xiao Xing’s memory?”

“Wood overcomes earth. It was the wood-element swordsman Doukou who implicated Qing Rang, who is of the earth element.”

“Earth overcomes water. Qing Rang suppresses and constrains Immortal Zao of Broadcold City.”

Hearing this, Chen Ping’an grew increasingly confused. “According to this, Xiao Xing is of the fire element, and fire overcomes wood. Wouldn’t that be exactly what restrains Doukou? Wouldn’t this five-elemental theory be correct?”

The old Master said, “Among the five elements, wood gives birth to fire. Yu Xisheng once said, ‘An owl becomes an old spirit, which is a wood-enchantment. Fire arises from its nest.’ Reader? Never heard of it?”

Chen Ping’an searched his memory for a moment, unable to resist asking, “Who said that, and when?”

The old Master stroked his beard and pondered, saying slowly, “About two thousand years ago, I saw it in a nondescript collection in a book building in Qing Tong.”

Chen Ping’an’s expression became slightly stiff, but he managed to maintain a smile.

“Xiao Xing is an almost unique case of a divinely bestowed wood-fire element, possessing two fates within one body. That you don’t know this is understandable, seeing as you focus on swordsmanship and fist techniques and read little.”

The old Master continued slowly, “But you, who often set up a stall and fortune tell like Lu Xiaosan, wouldn’t know that within the five-elemental fates, only fire and earth share the same palace?”

Thus, a caged bird held the universe within its spiritual image.

Yu Shiwu was metal. Doukou was wood. Immortal Zao was water. Xiao Xing was naturally mystical, possessing both wood and fire. Chen Ping’an, born on the fifth day of the fifth month, was a combination of fire and earth.

“This thread is without branches, clear and distinct.”

The old Master offered a moderate assessment. “You have finally done something useful. When you ascend to the Immortal Realm, you will be worth seeing compared to other cultivators of the same realm.”

When the five elements were complete, the movement of heaven had a path. It could fill a cultivator’s Primordial Spirit, nourish the soul, and strengthen the body.

Swordsmen could rely on their Natal Sword to feed their spirit and body. Pure martial artists could forge a path to godhood through their physical form.

Adding in an increasing number of Refined Objects of the Great Refining was like having over a thousand and five hundred spiritual palace “doorways,” each with its own guardian treasure.

The height of Chen Ping’an’s future Dao attainment and the strength of his Dao power were difficult to say, but his ability to endure punishment was something to look forward to.

“Don’t feel that Zouzi promotes the five elements, and therefore harbor some aversion to them in your heart.”

“Hanging a corpse with a sword in the mountains to scare whom? Zouzi’s heart is higher than the heavens. He never targets anyone. He seeks to balance this world.”

“By letting Gu Can of Mud Bottle Lane go, you are not letting yourself go.”

“By not letting Ma Kuxuan of Apricot Blossom Lane go, you are letting yourself go.”

“Physical form, magic treasures, immortal arts. Fate, destiny, merit. Family, teachers, Daoist temples. Fate is important, but it is not the most important.”

“In short, cultivators must work hard on these nine things, adding and subtracting, mending and patching. Diligent cultivators increase their Dao power, while hidden cultivators solidify their Dao attainment.”

The old Master randomly selected five chess pieces of different colors from the board, suspended them in the air, and connected each piece with a line according to the five elements, forming a complete, self-circulating circle of the Dao.

He glanced at Chen Ping’an.

Understanding, Chen Ping’an picked up four chess pieces from the board and used one of the old Master’s pieces as the starting point, forming another circle.

The old Master nodded. Then, he raised another four pieces, creating another five-elemental ring in the sky above the board. Three circles, interlocking.

Chen Ping’an was silent, looking back at the old Master.

The old Master smiled knowingly, withdrew the circle that used a certain element of the second circle as its starting point, and reconnected it to a node on the first circle.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Can Zouzi handle it?”

The old Master did not provide an answer, saying, “Today’s transmission of Dao ends here. It is nearly ready.”

Chen Ping’an did not dare to expect more and asked, “What about the Mountain Gate Road?”

The little boy in blue was still running into walls there.

The old Master smiled. “What, Fellow Daoist Chen wishes to advocate for that little Royal River serpent?”

A mere nascent soul was not worth the attention of the Daoist of the Blue Cloud Cave.

If it had ascended, it would probably be in the Dao field within that bright moon now.

Chen Ping’an tentatively said, “The little one unintentionally offended you, senior. A light punishment to serve as a warning?”

To be honest, even now, the Mountain Master did not know what his own guardian had said or done to offend the old Master so deeply.

The old Master retorted, “I transmit Daoist secrets to you, and now you wish to tell me how to act?”

Chen Ping’an felt helpless. Chen Lingjun had offended the Blue Cloud Cave Master, making the Mountain Master feel guilty.

The old Master stood up and said, “The Immortal Realm is manageable, but when one ascends to the Immortal Realm, one becomes a behemoth in the human realm. Each journey is bound to cause ripples. Wild cultivators like Feng Xuetao care nothing for earthly causality. Strong Ascendants like Fire Dragon True Man have secret methods to play in the human realm without entanglement. It is the neither-nor ones that are troublesome, half-full buckets sloshing and spilling water that can cause either a long-awaited rain or a devastating flood.”

A thousand-year turtle or a ten-thousand year tortoise. The former referred to the Land Immortals in general, the latter to the Ascendant and Fourteenth Realm cultivators.

Ascendant Realm cultivators seeking longevity needed a tortoise shell, preferably a unique Daoist field.

The old Master suddenly said, “Do you know why that effeminate kiln worker chose to take his own life? Was he truly killed by a few words?”

The female Rain Master of the ancient Heavenly Court was reborn as a man. The kiln worker, Su Han, suffered calamities and escaped the hook.

Chen Ping’an was silent for a moment and then nodded. “I only truly understood it much later. Su Han made that choice because of my existence.”

The old Master nodded. “Recognizing and admitting this shows that you still have some responsibility. It was not in vain that he gifted you the fate of being close to the Great Dao of Water.”

“Wishing to be a good person means doing good deeds. But do the good deeds of a good person always have good outcomes? Don’t become complacent. This matter still requires much contemplation through the ages.”

Su Han was bedridden and needed the kiln apprentice, Chen Ping’an, to care for him and make medicine every day. Their time spent together created a small world of their own. In Su Han’s world, there were only good people. When Su Han could walk and leave that small world, he returned to the complex world of human affairs, a chaotic world where good and bad were intertwined. The things Su Han had previously endured became unbearable, and hardships that had been commonplace became genuine suffering.

In a sense, Chen Ping’an’s existence had contributed to Su Han’s death.

At least, in Chen Ping’an’s own heart and in the old Master’s eyes, there was a clear causal link.

The old Master smiled. “Do you think I am demanding too much of you?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “I do not. Giving others hope is itself a demand. Living in this world with hope, with something to look forward to, is not true poverty.”

The old Master hummed, showing his appreciation for the first time.

Poverty and wealth were not antonyms, but rather destitution and wealth were. The opposite of poverty was prosperity.

The ancient Chinese character for poverty depicted a person curled up beneath the earth. How could they prosper or find a way out?

The old Master asked, “Do you know why I gave you a quarter of Lotus Flower Blessed Land and also gave Fallen Mountain a Five Peaks True Form Guardian Array?”

Chen Ping’an said, “Some things are better said by seniors. If I were to say them myself, I would be boastful and arrogant.”

The old Master smiled. “You are mistaken. Your attitude towards the world and your willingness to act on it are indeed compatible with my path, but that is not the real reason.”

“My views are the opposite of Zouzi’s. He is pessimistic and believes that if someone like you were to become a swordsman in the Fifteenth Realm, it might lead to the worst outcome, an outcome this world could not bear, even if it were only a possibility. I dare to gamble.”

“You built this gambling table yourself, which is something you can be proud of.”

“How do you separate Cui Chan and Cui Dongshan, yet see Xie Gou and Bai Jing as the same person?”

“Don’t rush to answer. Think carefully about why.”

On the Divine Road near the Mountain Gate, Little Millet asked curiously, “Jingqing, what are you doing?”

She had patrolled the mountain once and he was still loitering here.

What was so interesting about this Divine Road?

Chen Lingjun could no longer pretend to be brave. He sat on the steps and asked tentatively, “Right Guardian, are you familiar with that tall, skinny old Daoist?”

To be a good scout for Fallen Mountain, one had to be cautious, meticulous, watertight in speech, and observant in all directions. “The Old Immortal is amiable and kind to everyone. It’s hard to say whether we are familiar or not.”

But as for her relationship with Jingqing, Little Millet was straightforward. She asked in confusion, “Do you have something to discuss with the Old Immortal? Do you want me to pass on a message?”

Chen Lingjun nodded pitifully. “Please tell him that I know I was wrong and that he should be magnanimous.”

Little Millet wrinkled her face and shook her head. “The problem is, I can’t find the Old Immortal.”

Chen Lingjun whispered, “Call out the Daoist title of the Blue Cloud Cave Master and say a few things from the heart. The old Daoist will probably hear you, no need to look.”

Little Millet put down her walking stick and golden pole, her expression serious. She frowned, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands together.

Chen Lingjun asked curiously, “What are you doing, performing a ritual?”

Just talking to that Daoist should not require such an exaggeration.

Little Millet, her hands clasped, opened her eyes and complained. “Jingqing, be sincere. We must be sincere. Mountain Master once said that sincerity allows communication with the gods, that one thought can resonate through the mountains.”

Chen Lingjun vaguely remembered “half” of it and asked in confusion, “Isn’t that what Immortal Wei said when he was chatting with us last time?”

Little Millet, who had just closed her eyes, had to open them and glare. “Can’t it be Mountain Master who said it to Immortal Wei?”

Chen Lingjun understood and mentally scoffed. “This friend of Xiao Mo is a bit capable. This time, even relying on my own master is a bit unreliable.”

Before Little Millet could sincerely “wish,” the old Daoist and Mountain Master appeared on the Divine Road, walking side by side. Although it was not his true form, the coroneted Chen Ping’an had changed his clothes.

The old Master patted the head of the little girl in black with a kind expression, while Mountain Master happily slapped the head of the little boy in blue.

Chen Lingjun cautiously sized up the situation. Seeing this, he was relieved and quickly left with Little Millet.

Looking at the wooden hairpin Daoist reading a book at the foot of the mountain, the old Master asked, “Why didn’t you bring him up the mountain?”

Chen Ping’an said, “I am not worthy.”

The old Master said, “If he were on the mountain instead of guarding the gate, Fallen Mountain would receive a series of inexplicable and huge blessings within a century, and everyone would share in them. There would be no sneak attacks from Fourteenth Realm cultivators or candidates. Qing Rang would have been found by Yellow Court long ago. Xiao Xing would probably have been ground down by the flow of fortune from Lotus Root Blessed Land. You wouldn’t have to protect Ding Daoist. You could freely cultivate that Ascendant technique you understood. Perhaps, thanks to this, Xiao Mo or Xie Gou would have a better chance of finding their path to harmony. In short, the benefits would be so many that you wouldn’t be able to imagine them.”

Chen Ping’an asked curiously, “If we take such credit for ourselves, what will happen after a century?”

He had roughly confirmed Daoist Wei’s identity, but he hadn’t thought much about it. He would simply provide offerings and respect. Taking him as a disciple was out of the question.

Taking a step back and including Immortal Wei in the records of the Jade Color Peak Ancestral Hall was still taking advantage.

Building a career, setting a goal, and working hard was like planting a tree. A hundred-year tree starts with roots and buds, then a trunk, and finally branches and leaves, and then flowers and fruit. Everything follows a clear and orderly progression.

In that world of Lotus Flower Blessed Land, which was also Dao View on the Eastern Sea, Chen Ping’an, as a young swordsman, was deeply influenced and benefited greatly, and would likely continue to do so.

The old Master said, “If you truly take a shortcut like that, you will have to pay back the debt. If you do it unknowingly and muddle through, putting Immortal Wei in a seat in the Jade Color Peak Ancestral Hall is still manageable. But if you do it deliberately, being clever and harboring luck, it is difficult to say.”

The old Master was silent for a moment and smiled. “Perhaps this mountain will explode.”

One divided into two, each taking half. The one in heaven was complete, surrounded by the three founders of Daoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism in the ruins of the Heavenly Court.

The one on earth was Chen Ping’an, who would inevitably be tested.

Since every event was an encounter with oneself, how to deal with it was simple.

Take the bright path, and the gentleman will be diligent all day.

Chen Ping’an said, “Senior is returning to the Azure Vault?”

The old Master nodded.

Chen Ping’an then took his leave.

The old Master was about to return to his Daoist temple when he saw the wooden hairpin Daoist at the foot of the mountain standing up and giving a proper Daoist salute.

He had to take a few more steps down the mountain. The old Master walked past the Mountain Gate and returned a salute to the Daoist.

The old Master at the gate pondered for a moment, did not seek to make trouble for that Fellow Daoist Chen, but laughed loudly. For the first time, he took the initiative to report his Daoist title and Daoist temple, referring to himself as the Blue Cloud Cave Master of Fallen Treasure Beach. He took the initiative to salute Daoist Wei, who was bewildered and could only return the salute. By the time that strange old Daoist, who seemed to be hunched over due to his hulking stature, disappeared into thin air, Immortal Wei rubbed his aching neck, shook his Daoist robe sleeves, and thought that he had been reading too many serious books.

Xie Gou sat on the steps watching the show, while the girl with the sable hat chanted. “Ashamed to carry a short sword, only to look at the mountains.”

That was all the learning they had, so they had to use it repeatedly.

Xie Gou marveled at the fact that he had never seen the Cai Prefecture Daoist being so respectful in front of the Dao Ancestor. It was just that they could not defeat them.

As for why the Blue Cloud Cave Master was so respectful in front of the wooden hairpin Daoist, there was a secret. Xiao Mo had said it himself.

On the ancient road, a winding line.

Whether it was wind, sun, rain, or snow, the Daoist was like a dragon in the wild, transmitting, hearing, and cultivating the Dao.