**The Departure of the Pure Yang**

Lü Yan, first among golden core immortals, bid farewell and departed. Chen Ping’an wished the Pure Yang Master, known as the finest alchemist of his age, a journey filled with insightful trials.

“May your Dao heart be as full and bright as the fifteenth moon,” the Lord of the Mountain added, a touch of auspiciousness in his voice.

Feng Xuetao frowned, puzzled. The moon’s waxing and waning were immutable laws of nature. Surely, fullness presaged decline. Was this truly a well-wishing phrase?

Cui Dongshan rolled his eyes, forced to explain in a silent whisper to his obtuse friend, “A common saying holds that the moon shines brightest on the sixteenth night.”

Feng Xuetao fell silent, conceding that the Lord of the Mountain possessed a unique mastery of words and their hidden depths.

Chen Ping’an sought out Xing Yun and Liu Shui, two native sword cultivators of the Great Wall of Sword Qi, engaging them in tales of the wild and untamed lands beyond.

Cui Dongshan, never one to remain still, promptly dragged Feng Xuetao off the Tongyin ferry, inquiring if the newly ascended immortal would be interested in a position within the Azure Lotus Sword Sect. “Consider it a favor to a brother,” he urged, “forged in shared camaraderie and flowing wine. We’ll speak not of coin, lest it tarnish our bond!” Feng Xuetao, still smarting from a prior brush with Jiang Shangzhen, demurred. He simply could not see eye-to-eye with the Master of this Sect. Upon reaching the shore, amidst the brilliantly lit streets, the white-robed youth dramatically flapped his sleeves.

Meanwhile, Pei Qian cleared the remnants of the feast, returning to her room to quietly practice the ancient art of stance walking.

The Fire Dragon Immortal, having located the lone maiden with the sable cap, approached with a disarming smile. “Tell me, White Jade Daoist,” he inquired, “what vistas do you behold when you gaze down from the heavens?”

Xie Gou merely curled her lip. “Nothin’ fancy,” she scoffed.

The Fire Dragon Immortal hesitated, recognizing the phrase as a colloquialism from Chen Ping’an’s town. “One must see to speak such words,” he replied with a gentle smile.

Xie Gou tugged at her cap. “Everyone thinks I’m some kind of prodigy, but I think I’m ordinary. I just got lucky. I was born early, witnessed the dawn of ages, met heroes from the first pages of the history scrolls. The Buddhists would call me ‘Sravaka,’ right? I’ve met almost a hundred figures in my lifetime, learned from them, dueled with them, been defeated by them. Any one of those ancient Daoists would be a titan in today’s world. I used to take it for granted, but now, wandering these lands, seeing the struggles of these cultivators, I just…”

The Fire Dragon Immortal waited patiently. Xie Gou rubbed her reddened cheeks, finally managing to articulate, “I feel like crying.”

The Fire Dragon Immortal burst into hearty laughter, his agreement ringing with genuine warmth. “Well said!”

Xie Gou’s countenance remained mournful. “Master Zhu has been a true friend. He criticized me, said I was born at the right time, experiencing tribulations and yet, always narrowly escaping harm. Seemingly accumulating Dao force, but failing to truly understand my heart. My cultivation might increase, yet my Dao heart regressed. I will only achieve a small fruition. So, I went wandering, visited the Hundred Thousand Mountains. Blind Old Man held the same opinion as Master Zhu.”

The Fire Dragon Immortal chuckled, “Master Zhu?”

Zhu Lian, the martial artist from Lotus Blossom Blessed Land? A rare and remarkable individual, yes, but hardly old enough to warrant the title “Master” in Xie Gou’s eyes.

Xie Gou glanced at the old Immortal. “In my eyes, you’re old too.”

The Fire Dragon Immortal stroked his beard, amused. “A sentiment worthy of Falling Hearth Mountain. It eases the heart to hear such words.”

Xie Gou regarded Feng Xuetao, Daoist Qing Mi, as the youngest of the young, and even Lü Yan, Daoist Pure Yang, as merely a peer on the path, deserving of only the title of “Daoist Friend.”

Yet the old cook and this Immortal beside her seemed to possess a peculiar talent, inspiring within her a sense of true reverence, of mentorship.

“Their words are guidance,” she thought, “the wisdom of those who have walked the path. Even the Lord of the Mountain, who loves to lecture, lacks such profound guidance.”

The Fire Dragon Immortal smiled. “The fall of the Great Sun once within your domain, sending the Golden Crow to slumber for ten thousand years, occurred within the confines of Treasure Bottle Continent. Your leniency in the face of such a grievance is surprising.”

If the whispers upon the mountain held truth, White Jade had leased that sacred place to the Great Li Dynasty.

Xie Gou curled her lip. “A dragon, no matter how mighty, cannot prevail against a serpent in its own den. Besides, our Lord of the Mountain is about to become the Great Li’s Imperial Preceptor. We’re all one family, after all.”

She added quickly, “But were it to fall in the Wildlands, I wouldn’t be so amenable. No one could persuade me, not even Elder Bai!”

The Fire Dragon Immortal nodded. “I appreciate honesty.”

Jiang Shangzhen himself felt curious about the root of Xie Gou’s Dao, even questioning Chen Ping’an in private if the Maiden might have divine origins.

Such speculation was understandable, given White Jade’s domain was a sun of immeasurable power, within which she had constructed a Fire Spirit Palace.

Yet, according to Qing Tong, White Jade was indeed a demon of the earth, not a celestial being of the ancient Heavenly Court.

Due to Xiao Mo, Xie Gou had spoken with Chen Ping’an about her past with a measure of ease. She did not deny her initial desire to seize the “well-born” sun, and attempt to emulate the ancient hero, Lan Qi, one of the ten great women, by refining it into her essential object. However, she soon discovered the sun had birthed a spirit, manifesting into the Golden Crow. White Jade changed her mind and vowed to safeguard its journey.

That was the reason why Xie Gou wanted to venture to the Flourishing Land, and why Bai Ze, despite knowing that the Wildlands would lose one of its top warriors, did not stop her.

It was not simply Xie Gou seeking Xiao Mo. According to the rules of the Wildlands, all considerations of profit must yield to the opportunities for cultivating the Dao.

And White Jade was a Sword Cultivator, one of the most promising candidates for the Fourteenth Realm, and whom Bai Ze placed great hopes.

The Fire Dragon Immortal smiled. “In truth, I share a lineage with both the White Jade Daoist and the Pure Yang Master. It is indeed fitting that I call you friends!”

Xie Gou nodded vigorously. “We shall visit each other often! And if we encounter any thorny problems, we can call out to each other, and know that help is only an arrow away!”

The Fire Dragon Immortal clapped his hands. “Agreed!”

In the boundless void beyond the heavens floated countless suns, each a gateway to the Scarlet Palace of Dawn’s Light, revered as a divine domain by later Daoists. Lü Yan, the Pure Yang Master, had often lectured within that ancient ruin, his audience composed largely of ancient, noble dragons.

The Fire Dragon Immortal suddenly inquired, “It seems the White Jade Daoist takes a special interest in Pei Qian?”

Xie Gou smiled awkwardly. “They are just forming their own groups. Like children, but more like a game.”

At the urging of the white-haired child, they nominated Guo Zhujiu as their leader, who would rival Pei Qian’s gang.

The Fire Dragon Immortal smiled knowingly. “Oh?”

Xie Gou cleared her throat.

The Fire Dragon Immortal changed the topic. “I wonder, who first described sweet dreams as ‘fragrant’? What a perfect description.”

Xie Gou understood, recalling that she had slept for ten thousand years, and that the Fire Dragon Immortal was famed for his ability to sleep well.

In this world of complex hearts, to find those of simple spirit was like a connoisseur discovering a perfect vintage.

Xie Gou grinned. “Old Immortal, had we met ten thousand years ago, we would have been the best of friends.”

The Fire Dragon Immortal stroked his beard. “I feel the same.”

Xie Gou asked, “And what are your plans next, Old Immortal?”

The Fire Dragon Immortal smiled. “To return to the Wildlands and find worthy opponents to test my Dao.”

As Chen Ping’an and Xie Gou had not concealed their presence when boarding the ferry, the spies of Cloud Rock Kingdom were immediately alerted and notified the Court.

Though small, Cloud Rock Kingdom possessed a handful of native alchemists. Within a private manor overlooking the Fish Scale Ferry, a group of youths watched the Tongyin ferry.

With nothing else to do, they monitored the activities of the Fish Scale Ferry, ever watchful for conflicts between travelers and locals. The Minister of Rites, it was said, lived in constant anxiety, frequenting temples to pray for peace. Fortunately, the capital had not yet descended into chaos, though the Emperor and the royal family grew ever more eager to welcome a certain individual as a guest.

Ironically, the Emperor, who once would have personally hosted any Golden Core Immortal in his capital, then required a nascent soul, then a Jade Purity realm expert, now barely showed interest even to the arrival of a True Immortal, as he had already met a newly ascendant Immortal.

A young man with thick brows sat cross-legged, a sword across his lap. He furrowed his brow, asking, “Is that him?”

A slender young woman, with a serene gaze, peered intently at the ferry. “Hard to say.”

They had received a secret message from the Ministry of Justice: the Grandmaster of the Azure Lotus Sword Sect had arrived in Tongye Continent, and Grand Sword Immortal Mi had quickly apprehended the vile remnants of the Wildlands, who were wantonly slaughtering innocents. Thanks to this, the excavation of the Great Ditch could proceed smoothly. Without that crucial lead, they would never have connected the sable-capped maiden and the blue-robed man to the legendary Hidden Officer.

The young man was Cloud Rock Kingdom’s sole native Sword Cultivator, and naturally, had carried himself with a measure of pride. But now his eyes were open, and the pressure was now immense. He had become increasingly taciturn.

The capital teemed with extraordinary individuals, and the earthly immortal, once his lifelong pursuit, now seemed insignificant, causing the young Sword Cultivator to lapse into near-silent contemplation.

Had Tongye Continent remained as it was decades ago, his talent and identity would have surely secured him a position in one of the great Immortal Sects.

His spirits were low. “Do they, these cultivated figures passing through Cloud Rock Kingdom, see it as nothing more than an anthill?”

In the past, Tongye Continent was isolated, its alchemists arrogant and uninterested in the outside world. But now, times had changed, and they could no longer afford to remain closed off and complacent.

Hearing his words, the young woman looked away from the Fish Scale Ferry, saying softly, “Zhongcui, we can only show respect, yet keep our distance from the grand sects and the immortals who travel in disguise.”

Zhongcui muttered, “Inviting gods is easy, sending them away is difficult.”

He doubted the Azure Lotus Sword Sect was a charitable organization. Were there truly cultivators who cared so deeply for the fate of the common folk?

He feared that one day, the Azure Lotus Sword Sect would establish itself in Tongye Continent, turning the nations along the Great Ditch into puppets of that immortal domain.

A martial artist flew over the walls, landing on the rooftop, carrying a jug of aged rice wine from a reputable shop. He resembled the young man in the corridor.

The young woman giggled, “Uncle Zhong, you chased away another ship carrying contraband. I saw it, so heroic!”

The man laughed. “Cai’er, I even met two odd people on that ship. We agreed to drink together!”

A tall young man, napping against the wall, asked eagerly, “Was it the man in blue robes? Did he give his name? Was it Chen?”

The man embellished, “We just agreed to drink. There was no need to share names.”

On the roof, the white-robed youth lay sprawled out, swinging his legs, while Feng Xuetao could only shake his head. “What is the point of drinking in the wind and listening to children complain?”

The youth said regretfully, “If it was him, and you had befriended him, Uncle Zhong, you would have become rich!”

The man laughed. “Young men should not always dream of meeting benefactors who will make them rich.”

Slapping the youth’s forehead, the man teased, “Fool, in the eyes of those wealthy and powerful ‘benefactors,’ young men like you have price tags plastered to your foreheads!”

From the rooftop, Feng Xuetao said, “That has a nice flavor of truth to it.”

Cui Dongshan, with his head resting on his hands, swung his legs. “He’s insightful.”

Feng Xuetao asked, “Is there anyone you hope to recruit?”

The Azure Lotus Sword Sect differed from Falling Hearth Mountain, which claimed to be closed for twenty years, and evidently had no desire to expand. Cui Dongshan, by contrast, was actively recruiting for his lower sect.

Cui Dongshan smiled. “Don’t always think I’m so mercenary. I just enjoy admiring the moon with kindred spirits.”

Cui Dongshan explained, “I am merely a temporary Sect Master, tasked with laying the foundation and leaving a few imperfections. There’s no need to worry about incompetent people in authority. The Azure Lotus Sword Sect will certainly pass into the hands of Junior Brother Cao. Then Cao Qinglang will have something to do, and won’t be shackled and uninspired.”

Feng Xuetao nodded. “If the Azure Lotus Sword Sect bears too much of your influence, it will be difficult for Cao Qinglang.”

Cui Dongshan hummed in agreement. “That has a nice flavor of truth to it.”

Feng Xuetao gave a helpless look.

In the corridor, though they acknowledged the man’s wisdom, they remained unconvinced.

Yesterday, today, tomorrow, the moon waxes and wanes, and the youths remain as youths.

There was no curfew in the capital, and the wealthy and energetic young people, as well as cultivators with boundless energy, were often night owls.

Many shops hired temporary workers to watch over their businesses, earning them double the profits.

A couple who had met by chance and decided to travel together arrived in Cloud Rock Kingdom’s capital. The man’s face was pale and his features harsh, and he was accompanied by a petite woman with fair skin. They were merely sightseeing, expanding their horizons.

Whether virtue could take one across the world was debatable, but money certainly could. Having acquired a substantial sum of money, they abandoned their desire to find refuge in the mountain god’s manor. They were Fan Tong and Xie Sanniang, and they had heard tales of distant events, such as the intervention of Grand Sword Immortal Mi from the Great Wall of Sword Qi, who had apprehended the demonic beasts that wreaked havoc. And that the Jade Regulations Sect had acquired a grand master as a devotee, known as Qing Mi, a newly ascendant Old Immortal!

Fan Tong and Xie Sanniang did not know that the culprits who had nearly halted the Great Ditch excavation were the same young men and women they had encountered in the dilapidated temple.

As for who this Grand Sword Immortal Mi might be, Fan Tong had asked, but was likely turned away because he did not look like an honest man.

Fan Tong wanted to ask the Immortal cultivators at an inn or shop near Fish Scale Ferry if they knew of a person named “Chen Ping’an.”

But he stopped himself when the woman questioned him and said “Do you have that kind of money?” Fan Tong did have a stash, but did not want to reveal it.

They stayed in an ordinary inn in the capital.

Earlier, while strolling near the ferry, they saw a ship, the largest of them all, around which many beautiful female immortals were gathered.

The sight of these celestial beauties naturally drew Fan Tong’s gaze, much to his woman’s displeasure, and she pinched and twisted him until he cried out in pain. He would turn away, but only for a moment.

Fan Tong believed that Chen Immortal, should he have been traveling with them, would have been in the same predicament.

He wondered if that self-proclaimed Sword Immortal, Chen, would shrink in the presence of Grand Sword Immortal Mi, should they ever meet.

That night, the couple went out to eat at Fish Scale Ferry, an expense they could afford.

The woman usually enjoyed browsing through cosmetics shops, and here she was even more extravagant, which Fan Tong found strange, as she never bought anything.

Xie Sanniang had chosen a humble diner that served hot pot.

As Fan Tong sat down, the owner feared that the couple might skip out on the bill, but then reasoned that the authorities were now more secure, so that could not be possible.

The next table was occupied by a few cultivators and mortals, discussing immortal matters.

Fan Tong knew this was because they were accompanied by several heavily made-up, bejeweled mortal women.

The women glanced at Fan Tong with disdain, then exchanged knowing looks with Xie Sanniang.

Xie Sanniang’s expression was smug. “I am a proper wife now, what about you? You are only sleeping to earn money, right?”

Fan Tong was oblivious to this undercurrent, and more interested in the conversations of the cultivator.

They were explaining the ranks of cultivation, which can be divided into three, six, or nine grades. The first grade, the most impressive, possessed a divine beast as a mount. This was only obtainable through one’s own fortune, or from one’s family. The second grade possessed an expensive rune-crafted boat, something hard to maintain. The third was extravagant, possessing one’s own boat.

Xie Sanniang nudged her husband and raised her eyebrows. Fan Tong grinned. “I can’t afford any of those. If I ever did, I’d need a good rest.”

The women all stared at a young man who was drinking slowly, and sitting at the table alone.

The cultivator then changed the topic, saying that Hong had a rune-crafted boat from his ancestral hall in recognition of his ascension to the Cave Realm.

The young man named Hong smiled and took a sip of his wine, saying that his skills were not enough, and not worth comparing to true geniuses.

The more humble he was, the more his female companions gazed at him.

A cultivator assisting the young man continued, “The most outrageous thing is of course, to own a private ferry.”

While eating the hot pot, Xie Sanniang was constantly rolling her eyes. Fan Tong just felt the rice wine was not strong enough.

At that moment, the woman noticed a familiar figure at the entrance, and stood up. Seeing that her man was still devouring his food, she kicked him.

Fan Tong looked up, and recognized the Immortal Chen, and his smile widened.

Chen Ping’an grinned and sat on the bench across from them. “I’m freeloading. You pay, I’ll settle the bill.”

Fan Tong wiped his mouth. “This is too embarrassing!”

Xie Sanniang smiled alluringly. “Why should we stand on ceremony?”

Fan Tong asked boldly, “Immortal Chen, may I ask what you do?”

Chen Ping’an grinned. “Excellence can be found in any job.”

Fan Tong was embarrassed. The woman smirked.

She wanted to serve him food, to put things into the hot pot, but she hesitated. She didn’t want to be disliked.

Extra chopsticks were placed on the table, and Chen Ping’an ate, saying nothing, just burying his face in the food. With the hot pot and wine, he had everything.

When they had heard the title “Chen Immortal”, the people at the next table had taken a glance at the blue-robed man, but that was all.

Fan Tong said in a low voice, “What are you doing here, Immortal Chen?”

Chen Ping’an raised his wine bowl, clinked it against the couple’s, and downed it. He scooped a few pieces of tripe from the hot pot with a spoon, and put them on the couple’s plates.

He grinned and explained, “There are some acquaintances here, I’m dealing with something small.”

Fan Tong nodded and lost interest.

The woman stared at the tripe, and then, snapping out of her daze, told the shopkeeper to bring another jug of rice wine.

In the alley, the Emperor of Cloud Rock Kingdom stood still, holding his breath in the corner.

On the Tongyin ferry, Xie Gou stood arms akimbo, triumphant, even more looking forward to Xiao Mo’s return.

When the Mountain Lord said he was going to visit his friends, Xie Gou had asked him to wait a moment, saying she had something to ask of him, relating to academic writing.

Chen Ping’an, since his youth, had believed that a short pencil is better than a long memory, and had been sketching the scenery, the city, and the architecture.

Inspired by the Mountain Lord, the sable-capped maiden would also take out a book and draw.

Chen Ping’an never interfered with it, but occasionally saw Xie Gou struggling and scratching her head, which he found interesting. If it was about cultivation, Xie Gou would never be so troubled.

Xie Gou tugged at her sable cap, and asked tentatively, “Mountain Lord, I heard you have the habit of writing travelogues?”

Chen Ping’an immediately became wary, knowing there were no secrets on the Mountain, and turned the question on her. “Speak plainly, stop beating around the bush, and don’t act like Cui Dongshan.”

Xie Gou said, “Heh, I am just imitating greatness. As I have seen the beauty of the world, I want to record it, so I can tell Xiao Mo.”

“There’s a saying, called being there and sketching the world and describing the situation. I want you to help me polish my writing.”

Just like the Old Blind Man, who was a scholar, but could not refine his core writing, which was why he favored the Mountain Lord.

Chen Ping’an asked, “Let me see the manuscript?”

Xie Gou pulled out a book from her sleeve and offered it over her head.

Chen Ping’an took the book and flipped it open. The writing was large, with few words on each page.

“On a certain day, I left a certain city, and went for a few miles. I saw a tall mountain. When I reached the peak, the city was tiny.

A sea of white clouds, like cotton… Next to a temple, there was a tree. It was old, it was turning into a spirit.

One day, I passed by a ruined post station, and found a few poems on the wall…”

Xie Gou asked, “What do you think?”

Chen Ping’an kept a straight face, and forced himself to say, “The words are simple.”

He wanted to add “innocent and cute,” but couldn’t bring himself to do it, lest he discourage her from writing.

Xie Gou nodded. “So it’s like the pen is heavy, the mind won’t stir the pen, so nothing fancy comes out.”

Chen Ping’an ignored her, and asked, “Why is it ‘a certain day’, ‘a certain place’ everywhere?”

Xie Gou said, “I don’t want to earn money, I just wanted to be concise, to write the highlights.”

Chen Ping’an forced a smile. “The highlights are definitely the highlights.”

Xie Gou asked tentatively, “There’s room to improve, right?”

Chen Ping’an sat down, and took out paper and pens from his chest, and began to edit the writing. “Is it alright if I edit it?”

Xie Gou grinned. “Do whatever, just make me and this adventure sound as good as possible.”

She crouched next to him, and saw the Mountain Lord thinking, then began to write quickly.

Xie Gou nodded, agreeing with “I love traveling.”

Mostly because the content was so simple, that was why she and the Mountain Lord had such comparable talents.

On the second day, I traveled down the mountain with my friend, carrying a bamboo staff. I traveled for twenty miles, past the borders of Qingping Prefecture. The rivers are flooding, and there is a drought, a plague of locusts, and much warfare. The people are worth less than weeds. I must cherish cultivation and accumulate Dao energy. I saw the city, and it was desolate. The people were gaunt. Thirty miles, along the lake, willow trees. I went to an abandoned shrine and lit a fire to cook. I ate and went to the peak, seeing a great lake. The weather turned, the clouds rolled in. I remembered my journey, where I didn’t see a soul. I would see wolves and strange beasts. I took that as normal. On the third day, I traveled for one hundred miles and bought food, and spent eight silver coins. I walked and crossed the Fairy Bridge. The weather turned, and the road turned muddy. Fifteen miles later, I reached Mute Beach. Then the weather cleared, and I went by boat. The people on the ship told ghost stories, unaware that the ship was helmed by a river god. Eighty miles away, there were osmanthus trees. On that nameless mountain, each peak was revered. I meditated on the peak, and saw the sun, as well as a great river. On the fifth, I reached Willow Town, where I was robbed of two silver coins by fake soldiers. I met a mountain, and went along it with my friend. The fish in the water can be counted. There were a few huts, for Daoist hermits who wanted to compile the history of the mountain. I meditated there and observed the stars.

Pei Qian finished her stance walking, and walked out of her room, and saw Xie Gou enjoying herself on the ship’s deck.

Xie Gou made a face at the young woman. Pei Qian did not care, as she was used to it.

Xie Gou came next to her, and lifted her hand as if she was holding a drink, grinning. “Pei Qian, let’s have a chat while drinking! It’s time I told you some things.”

Pei Qian feigned confusion. “Didn’t we drink already?”

Xie Gou sighed, in the style of the Mountain Lord, “I want a second round!”

Pei Qian shook her head. “No, thanks.”

Xie Gou was about to say something, but Pei Qian had already turned towards her room. Xie Gou hesitated, then didn’t stop her, and climbed onto the railing, swinging her legs and muttering to herself.

Xie Gou looked at the young woman’s back and asked, “I have a question, but you don’t have to answer. Are you doing well these past few years?”

Pei Qian turned around, her eyes shining. Before she met Master, her life was not worth mentioning. After she met Master, her life was the best.