The night sea journeyed, a lonely raft upon the waves, a life adrift ‘twixt cloud and water.

Like turning the pages of an ancient tome in search of forgotten lore, Chen Ping’an glanced through fragmented memories of summer palaces, only to swiftly close the book and gaze down upon the spiritually vibrant city of Lingxi.

Though counted among the four middle cities, Lingxi was small, yet possessed a meticulous elegance in its palaces, pavilions, winding corridors over water, and flower-filled neighborhoods. The previous city lord had a light touch, demanding only adherence to the Night-Voyaging Ship’s few fundamental rules, freeing Lingxi’s folk from further constraint. Though sharing the surname Li with Tiaomu City, Lingxi stood in stark contrast in customs and atmosphere. The departing lady-lord disembarked accompanied only by a silver-eyed youth with antlers.

Previously, en route to Fuyu Continent, Chen Ping’an had briefly met the city’s nominal administrators. As temporary steward of Lingxi, it was a matter of protocol, an act he could not avoid.

Chen Ping’an found the well-read, eloquent scholars overly refined, while they deemed the disciple of the Literary Sage, bearing the title of Hidden Official, far too common.

There was no outright animosity, but neither was there camaraderie. Tales of instant obeisance or humble welcome remained firmly in the realm of fiction.

Chen Ping’an was reserved, but Little Mo, who had been poring over the writings of sages since their arrival at Fallen Phoenix Mountain, engaged the flowery scholars in discussions of the Dao and the vying of power, of earthly dynasties and heavenly lineages. He spoke of the Sage’s emphasis on mentors and friends, of how true Confucian scholars should treat enlightened rulers as friends, while rulers should regard them as teachers. Little Mo also inquired as to why Master Dong, the leader of the Confucian Temple, while exalting Confucianism and dismissing other schools of thought, invoked the Mandate of Heaven to curb emperors. He wondered why Vice-Leader Han spoke of the need for a ruler to govern by doing nothing. Finally, Little Mo asked them the meaning and implication of Headmaster Lu of the Jade Capital’s ominous pronouncement: “The arts of the Dao will sunder the world.”

Afterward, Little Mo worried he had spoken too freely, leaving a poor impression of Chen Ping’an. Chief Zhou, after all, had warned that when conversing with unaffiliated scholars, one must tread with utmost care, lest a careless word be held against you. But Chen Ping’an merely smiled, stating that their stay in Lingxi would be brief. They, steeped in worldly affairs, dared not engage in trade here. Like a flavorless morsel, they would show the refined scholars due courtesy, and then keep their distance.

Liu Xianyang and the others returned to the rainbow bridge suspended in the air, laughing, “What an education! Never before have I seen so many living immortals bound by reputation. Gouzi, with her vast knowledge, recognized them as self-imprisoned half-wits trapped within words, a spell devised by Master Sanshan Jiu Hou.”

“Gouzi also remarked that in ancient times, scholars, be they Daoist or Confucian, possessed a grand spirit. Every word, every line, rang like a bronze bell, unlike the shriveled, whinging demeanor of today, exuding a sour, petty air. Ten thousand years ago, the Ritual Sage, with his understanding of heaven and humanity, created writing, while Master Sanshan Jiu Hou clarified all images. There was even a savage demon who studied all the sounds in the world, perhaps the one who later went by the name of Lu Fayan in the Savage Lands, though sadly, it was consumed?”

“Gouzi praised the mastermind behind this ship, a scholar of no small talent, who had skillfully borrowed from here and pilfered from there, crafting the Night-Voyaging Ship in its current form, a veritable archive.”

Here, Liu Xianyang clasped his hands in salute, “Gouzi, well done!”

The girl in the sable hat smiled brilliantly, returning the gesture, “Brother Liu, it was nothing.”

Liu Xianyang shook his clasped hands, “Nay, it was everything.”

Truly, this was Lingxi City. The two exchanged a knowing glance. Thank you, Gouzi. Hahaha. Thank you, Liu Xianyang. Hahaha.

Chen Ping’an glanced at Little Mo, her face radiant with smiles. His Dao companion, like a simpleton away from home. Was he not to watch over her?

Little Mo was clearly unconcerned. Xie Gou and Sword Immortal Liu were kindred spirits, generous of heart, and took to each other instantly. On their journey, they had already agreed that, should the Mountain Lord’s wife not object, Xie Gou would be a bridesmaid for She Yue.

Xie Gou chuckled, “Mountain Lord, you’ve fallen into a beauty’s den!”

Liu Xianyang smacked his lips in agreement, “Worth the journey, worth the journey.”

The rainbow bridge wound through the palace, patrolled by graceful female officials, full-cheeked, with swaying garments and long sleeves, adorned in pink and green. They carried palace lanterns of white paper and bamboo, with famous verses written in vermilion ink and annotated with delicate calligraphy.

The city’s inhabitants, throughout history, were never high-ranking officials, but rather those whose talents and fates were at odds, now solitary figures secluded in the distant, ungoverned wilds.

Chen Ping’an intended to sequester himself with confidential records, accompanied by Little Mo. Liu Xianyang claimed he needed to speak with Gouzi, who tilted her sable hat and replied, “Ah?”

Chen Ping’an, of course, would not usurp the former city lord’s residence. Such things required propriety.

Though his title was temporary, he was granted access to a substantial number of documents, according to the Night-Voyaging Ship’s regulations.

He placed a bowl of glutinous rice wine on the table, as a companion to his study of the past.

He recalled his voyage across the sea from Upside-Down Mountain, aboard a treasure-swallowing whale containing ancient, fragmented realms.

Lu Tai, that scoundrel, seemed to have aligned himself with Zhang Fenghai, establishing a new sect. Chen Ping’an knew, without a doubt, that Lu Tai, ever fond of stirring trouble, would have incited discord and fanned the flames. As for why Lu Tai and his cohort of Qingming Dao officials chose to wander the Savage Lands, it was likely to prove their innocence, to observe from the sidelines before placing their bets.

Chen Ping’an unfurled a rudimentary map, studying it intently. The mountains and rivers bore familiar names from other continents. He made his decision, pointing to a spot, murmuring, “Shall we settle here for a few years, building a hermitage?”

It was a mountain range called Earth’s Lung, known in ancient times as Zhongnan.

Liu Xianyang and the girl in the sable hat left the rainbow bridge, climbing to the top of a high tower, where wind chimes rang out with celestial music.

Liu Xianyang leaned against the railing, smiling, “Bai Jing, now that we are friends, may I speak frankly?”

The girl in the sable hat grinned, “Bai Jing might mind, but Xie Gou certainly won’t. Speak your mind, whether it makes sense or not, I’ll lend an ear.”

Liu Xianyang nodded, cutting to the chase, “Since you are the owner of that celestial-woven armor, and temporary protector in Little Mo’s stead, why was it not lent to Chen Ping’an for protection when he faced several untraceable, perilous attacks during his retreat at the Fuyu Deer Altar? Is it because the armor is too high-grade, with strict requirements, impossible to remove once donned?”

Xie Gou blinked, responding indirectly, “How does Sword Immortal Liu know such secrets? I’ve never called upon it in the Savage Lands, in the mountains, or beyond the heavens. Nor have I boasted of possessing it. From whom did Sword Immortal Liu hear of this? Mountain Lord Chen? Nay, he would never force anyone’s hand. Little Rice Grain, even less likely. Could it be that blabbermouth from Tongye Continent, Qing Tong?”

Liu Xianyang smiled mysteriously, “A mountain man has his ways, knowing the affairs of ten thousand ages.”

Xie Gou adjusted her sable hat, saying, “I’ll be direct. Before coming to the Savage Lands, I made a pact with Old White. If he and the Little Master ever came to blows, I must return to aid the Savage Lands, even half-dead. Bai Jing is eccentric, unpredictable, but honors agreements above all else. To break a promise would cause lasting guilt, a feeling I wish not to repeat. This armor is a trump card, not to be revealed unless absolutely necessary, lest it be anticipated and countered. Battles, after all, are often decided by who holds more and better trump cards.”

Xie Gou snapped her fingers, “Before giving the true reason, let me share some interesting history with Sword Immortal Liu.”

Without warning, a storm arose in Liu Xianyang’s mind, accompanied by a roar as images materialized, hanging like paintings on the lake’s surface.

Some images were blurred, but all possessed divine intent. Liu Xianyang steeled his mind, condensing a mustard seed of spirit to observe within, lest his Dao heart be disturbed.

Some were seen by Bai Jing, others were imagined. Different armors, different wearers.

The crafter, one of the twelve high-ranking of ancient times, fashioned three lesser replicas of the armor worn by one of the five supreme beings. One, the “Great Frost” armor, shattered and fell during the ascent to heaven. The Founding Ancestor of the military gathered the pieces, restoring it to some degree, and secretly joined forces with one of the ten heroes of the ancient world and her two disciples, expending countless resources to create three “ancestral” armors based on the Great Frost armor. These were the precursors to the three military armor pills of later generations. In a sense, they were all imitations.

Liu Xianyang laughed, “As a potter by trade, were the Great Frost and the other two armors official imitations, while the armors forged by the Military Founding Ancestor were folk kilns?”

Xie Gou materialized within Liu Xianyang’s mind, giving a thumbs up. “A fine analogy.”

As the conversation originated from the celestial-woven armor, Liu Xianyang paid closer attention, noticing that the earliest version of the armor had fallen into the Western Buddhist Lands. Liu Xianyang asked, “Was it worn by the venerable monk Shen Qing?”

Xie Gou shook her head. “I cannot say whether Monk Chicken Soup was the armor’s owner. I never met him. But I am certain that Monk Chicken Soup never wore it. He had no need. It would have been a burden. During the ascent to heaven, on a certain primary path of attack, the ancient heavenly court unleashed a sword formation, an endless rain of flying blades that pierced countless stars, grinding some to dust. Liu Xianyang, how do you think we cultivators responded to such a cataclysm?”

“There was the first Daoist of humanity, who saw this scene and, instead of retreating, advanced, rapidly ascending and distancing himself from the masses. His yang spirit, his yin spirit, his boundless Dao, his sleeve containing a universe, gathered countless flying swords, reversing yin and yang, and turning them to his own use, unleashing volleys of blades to create shining galaxies.”

“The Daoist chanted incantations like songs, never forgetting to preach.”

“There was also the monk who attained enlightenment under the Bodhi tree, following closely behind, casually casting aside a tattered robe, which instantly covered the sky, the sound of flying swords striking the cloth echoing like thunder.”

“Monk Shen Qing’s indestructible golden body traced back to its origins. This old monk, who claimed to understand the First Ancestor’s intentions, had no need for the armor.”

Xie Gou hopped onto the railing, sitting with her body leaning forward, her fists propped against her knees. “Heh, that sword-wielding champion among the Ten Heroes of the ancient world, his Dao profound in both offense and defense, more powerful than all of us sword cultivators, he almost never spoke. His Dao roots were mysterious, unknown to all. He ascended with his sword, shattering one hundred and twenty-seven formations. And on either side of him, his true forms cleared the path of all obstacles.”

Liu Xianyang’s expression turned strange.

Xie Gou’s face grew complex as she murmured, “Can you imagine it? The entire human world, all sentient beings, felt a resonance, as if incense was burning everywhere, except instead of praying to the gods, they held a common hope.”

The scholars, in a vast procession, quickly moved from the center to the front lines, dying a noble death.

After a long silence, Liu Xianyang couldn’t help but ask, “Where was the Dao Ancestor during this battle?”

Xie Gou laughed, “The same as always. Forever reclusive, more like a god than the gods themselves. During that time of selfless teaching, the ancient Daoist procession snaked across the land like a dragon, while he trailed far behind. When war broke out with the ancient gods, he remained at the rear. Not because he was afraid, nor because he lacked strength, but because we all knew that he alone could deliver the final verdict, deciding victory or defeat!”

Xie Gou’s eyes gleamed, “Every single one of the weakest, most selfish, and most mediocre of later generations possesses the blood of ancient heroes.”

Xie Gou grimaced, “Yet now, they compare themselves by their fathers, their teachers, and their wealth. It’s infuriating.”

Liu Xianyang smiled without responding.

Xie Gou’s face turned cold. “It is because I have seen those magnificent, selfless sacrifices firsthand.”

“That I find the current world so utterly disappointing.”

“Daoist Lu Yan spoke of a certain wine, never touched in prosperous lands, only sold in poor, harsh places, its surface green and lovely, with dregs floating like ants. Ha, just hearing about it makes me yearn for a taste. I must try it someday.”

With that, Xie Gou withdrew the images, “Back to the matter at hand.”

To wear the celestial-woven armor is like occupying a boundless realm. Even when face to face, one is as far away as the heavens. To attack someone wearing it is like searching for a needle in the ocean. Thus, wearing the armor provides no offensive power, but it guarantees invincibility, ensuring survival.

It is said that a cultivator clad in this armor, as long as they do not provoke the Confucian Temple’s Merit Forest, the Jade Capital, the Western Sacred Mountain, or the Sword Qi Great Wall, could withstand even an attack from a pair of fourteenth-realm cultivators, who would struggle to pinpoint a single grain of sand in the Ganges River.

As for the armor’s greatest benefit, legend has it that it allows the wearer to absorb endless spiritual energy, without any limit.

Xie Gou explained, “Sword cultivator Bai Jing can wear it all year round, Little Mo can borrow it for a few days, you, Liu Xianyang, can wear it once in a life-or-death struggle, but Chen Ping’an cannot. An evenly matched tug-of-war would easily be lost. Even if I dared to lend it, would Chen Ping’an dare to wear it? Mountain Lord would not.”

Liu Xianyang nodded. “If that is the case, then I understand.”

Xie Gou’s eyes were filled with resentment. “Liu Big Brother, the fact that you asked this question shows that you truly see me as a friend. With a hundred hearts, I feel not the slightest grievance…”

Liu Xianyang laughed, “Though I come from poverty, I have always believed I was born for greatness, destined to achieve something remarkable. Thus, I can’t bear the slightest hardship. Even with empty pockets, I must uphold my face and reputation. Back in my hometown, working as a potter, I seemed to get along with everyone, but I had few true friends. But once I consider someone a friend, I become very agreeable. A few misunderstandings between friends are nothing. Misunderstandings are like fake wine, grievances are like spoiled food. We shouldn’t hold onto such things. I quarreled with Chen Ping’an several times when we were young. With his stubborn nature, would he ever offer an apology? Each time, I had to shamelessly patch things up. With you, first I invited you to be She Qian’s bridesmaid, then I asked this question, already prepared for a disagreement.”

Xie Gou exclaimed, “If that is the case, then I understand!”

Liu Xianyang smiled, “Gouzi, anyone who thinks we are fools is the real fool!”

Xie Gou nodded earnestly, “That’s for sure. The world is complex. One can’t succeed without cleverness, but too much cleverness is also a detriment. We are just right. Hahaha. Great wisdom.”

Liu Xianyang agreed, “The middle way, great wisdom appearing as foolishness.”

She then became worried, “Big Brother Liu, will Little Mo be jealous that we are having such a good time?”

Liu Xianyang said, “Perhaps we should pretend not to know each other when we return to Treasure Bottle Continent. Or we could pretend that we argued and ended our friendship.”

Xie Gou clapped her hands in laughter, “What a brilliant plan!”

Xie Gou then paused, puzzled, “Why did you quarrel with Mountain Lord so often back then? I thought Mountain Lord wasn’t like that when he was younger?”

Liu Xianyang smiled, “He was always the same. But I have a foul mouth, never considering the consequences of what I say, spending money like water, ending each month broke after paying my debts, always doing things without thinking them through. Chen Ping’an, with his careful nature, would advise me, but I never listened. After a while, who wouldn’t get annoyed?”

Xie Gou grew even more puzzled, “Big Brother Liu, are you proud?”

Liu Xianyang retorted, “Isn’t there a reason to be proud?”

Xie Gou was about to express her agreement when her expression changed, and she hastily exclaimed, “I have to use the washroom,” and fled.

As she hid, she cursed the old blind man’s disciple, the one who both opened and closed the door. Why, during his travels, did he keep asking about whether Pei Qian was a lost princess?

Liu Xianyang laughed and shook his head. He had intended to ask Xie Gou if she thought that fourteenth-realm cultivators and Immortals of ancient times were too powerful.

But in an instant, Liu Xianyang sensed something was amiss, narrowed his eyes, and prepared to draw his sword.

Someone on the sea was gaining on the Night-Voyaging Ship. A burly man tore open the formation, stepping inside. The ship shook, and nearby waves rose hundreds of feet.

The man looked around, laughing, “The host need not bother to greet me. I only wish to chat. You need not be so alarmed.”

Chen Ping’an did not rise, looking towards the doorway.

The burly man strode in, his presence so overwhelming that the room felt as if a mountain had been shifted inside.

His first two sentences caused Chen Ping’an’s eyelids to twitch.

“Zhou Mi was too hasty.”

“He should have waited for me to emerge.”

The ancient demons who had slumbered for millennia, Bai Jing, No Name, Li Gou, had once followed this military ancestor, beginning another earth-shattering war.

The first battle, called the Ascent to Heaven, was a united effort. The second was an internal conflict, with almost the entire demon race betting on a single person.

In the words of Old Yang, it was an internal strife over unfair distribution of spoils.

Having seized “Heaven”, they divided the spoils, but few were satisfied.

Little Mo, though always eager to exchange swordplay, never involved himself in such pointless squabbles over profit.

Chen Ping’an changed the subject, “At Quanqiao Mountain, Little Mo said you had visited Qingming recently.”

The man casually selected a chair and sat down, saying, “I retrieved something that was rightfully mine, and visited an old friend. I had planned to drink with him and then visit ‘Lin the Teacher’, the so-called greatest martial artist. But my old friend’s home remained, though the people were different. My old friend had always been meticulous, planning for the afterlife. After millennia of preparation, he finally produced a fourteenth-realm cultivator who gained much benefit. I had intended to offer a few pointers, considering my friendship with his ancestor, but the sect’s atmosphere was terrible, with few good people from top to bottom. If my old friend knew, he would be unable to rest in peace. I tried to offer him a few words, but he was ungrateful, full of sarcasm. With my temper, could I tolerate that? We made a verbal life-or-death agreement and fought. Though a newly minted fourteenth-realm cultivator, he was so weak and pathetic.”

Chen Ping’an said nothing.

The man laughed, “His sect seemed to despise martial artists, saying that they relied on bluffing. As a result, all the martial arts masters of the continent fled to other continents upon hearing that he had become a fourteenth-realm cultivator. It showed how pathetic those martial artists were. No wonder the Dao officials and immortals looked down on them. But he shouldn’t have made a life-or-death agreement and asked me with a sneer, ‘What does it matter to you, Daoist, if I comment on martial artists?'”

The man narrowed his eyes, smiling. “Chen Ping’an, do you think it matters to me?”

Chen Ping’an said, “If I were you, I might say, ‘You’re right, Daoist. You are completely correct.'”

The man burst into laughter, rubbing the armrest of the chair. “Daoist Bi Xiao was right, you are cunning and astute, a good material for learning martial arts.”

Chen Ping’an said, “If you have time, you can visit Cao Ci. I believe you will not be disappointed.”

The man nodded. “I have already seen him. I like him better than you.”

Chen Ping’an was speechless.

The man said, “The price was agreed upon beforehand. I have come to inspect the goods and take them.”

Chen Ping’an sighed in relief. “That is only right.”

***

The Savage Lands.

A tree casts its leaves in a foreign land.

The four portals connecting the two continents were the Tattooed Sea in the east, the Divine Country in the south, Sunken Sun in the west, and Heavenly Eye in the north.

These four portals in the Savage Lands were far apart. Thus, the Central Earth Confucian Temple had stationed many top fighters in these “deadlands.”

At the same time, the Great Brightness had established three massive crossings in the northern Savage Lands, called Torchlight, Galloping Horse, and Earth Vein.

The military estimated that the Nine Continents of Great Brightness used thirty percent of their strength to defend against the Savage Lands. Now, they would use seventy percent to attack the Savage Lands.

Many Confucian scholars with the title of “Righteous Man” had taken positions at the front lines.

Some scholars and many sages were gaining experience by “walking” between the crossings.

At the Sunken Sun portal, the top fighters were Su Zi, the newly promoted fourteenth-realm cultivator Liu Qi, the Great Brightness Iron Cavalry commander Song Changjing, Zhang Tiaoxia, who had long been a Stilled Mind God, but possessed the title of Longbo, the Jade Gui Sect master of Tongye Continent, Sword Immortal Wei Ying, and the Stilled Mind martial artist Wu Shu.

Though Su Zi was still a Soaring Ascension realm cultivator, while Liu Qi was already a fourteenth-realm cultivator, Su Zi was still in charge.

Today, two Daoists visited. The middle-aged Daoist wore yellow robes and had a long beard. The old Daoist wore green robes and a crane cloak. They seemed to be far apart in age.

After they told the guards their reason, Su Zi laughed heartily, leaving his temporary office and quickly going to embrace the Daoist with the immortal air. “Brother Zijing! We meet again after many years!”

The middle-aged Daoist smiled. “Fortunate.”

This long-bearded Daoist was Yang Shichang, Zijing, whose home was at Mount Kongtong. He had a jade-like face, and a bamboo flute at his waist.

One autumn day, while Su Zi was traveling, he and his friends had taken a night voyage, writing a popular prose about it.

Su Zi tapped the hull, singing loudly, and a guest played the flute, harmonizing. Close friends talked about profound mysteries, washing their cups and pouring wine, their dishes and cups scattered everywhere. They leaned on each other, not knowing that the east was already bright…

Su Zi smiled, “Brother Zijing, you are at the bottleneck of the Immortal realm. Why wade into this troubled water?”

Yang Shichang smiled. “Why must Brother Su pretend not to know? Besides, to speak vulgarly, is the bottleneck of the Immortal realm more difficult than that of the Soaring Ascension realm?”

Su Zi said, “I may admire Buddhism and Daoism, but I am ultimately a Confucian disciple. Some things must be done.”

Yang Shichang said, “Is it only scholars who read?”

Su Zi laughed. “I can make an exception for you, Brother Zijing. Let’s drink!”

During the last great war, many Daoists like Cao Rong of the Spirit Flying Temple of Treasure Bottle Continent went down the mountain when the war started, and retreated upon its conclusion.

During the last war, when the front lines were pushed all the way north to Golden Armor Continent, there had been seven or eight Daoists with amazing power who had roamed the south, killing demons and putting much pressure on the Savage Lands rear. Especially during the last battle, five Daoists raided a military camp, shattering an entire mountain range, forcing the military camp to move.

But of those Daoists, only two remained.

During the last meeting of the Central Earth Confucian Temple, they had sent an invitation, but the Daoists had declined.

The silent, green-robed Daoist said, “Su Zi, are the formations here so dense?”

Su Zi lost his smile, nodding. “The Confucian Temple ordered that the formations at the crossings must be able to withstand the full attack of a Savage Lands fourteenth-realm demon.”

The logic was simple. As long as they could block that, the Great Brightness fourteenth-realm cultivators could take over.

The green-robed Daoist nodded. “Though I am not skilled in one-on-one fights, I can contribute to this formation.”

Su Zi bowed. “I thank you in advance. But this must be approved by three or four people at the Confucian Temple.”

The formations were linked, and a change in one affected everything. Thus, Su Zi and the other in charge needed to report every addition or subtraction to the Confucian Temple in detail. Liu Qi had said that the so-called three or four people were only two or three people expressing their opinions, and the final decision was up to one person in the back.

The green-robed Daoist didn’t mind, returning a bow. “That is only right.”

“I once roamed to the Colorful Clouds of White Emperor City, where I had the fortune to discuss the basis of formations with Mr. Zheng.”

A group of students had come to this place to gain experience, and they had helped with military affairs at the Galloping Horse crossing.

One of them was a young Confucian student named Li Huai from the Cliff Mountain Academy of Treasure Bottle Continent, holding the title of Sage.

Surrounded by men of virtue and sages, he was not out of place. The academy students often discussed and debated philosophy and morality, but Li Huai never spoke up, only listened. If they asked for his opinion, he only said that he didn’t understand.

At first, people thought he was simple and introverted, but after a while, they realized that Li Huai truly didn’t understand.

But Li Huai was humble and eager to learn, so the others did not look down on him.

When they became closer, they asked about his teacher, and Li Huai only said that the head of the academy had been Minister Mao of the Rites Academy.

Minister Mao Xiaodong of the Rites Academy was a big figure in the Confucian Temple, known for his rigor and fairness…

Minister Mao, who had been taught by the Ritual Sage, remained at the Central Earth Confucian Temple, assisting the Literary Sage with affairs. Was that not a coincidence?

People had talked about it in the Confucian Temple.

Was it the idea of that disciple who opened and closed the door?

Impossible.

Impossible? You have not been to the Sword Qi Great Wall.

What was the secret?

There were many!

***

A hunchbacked old man came without warning, accompanied by someone who should not be here.

They appeared in the city together, entering the heavily guarded city in full view of everyone.

Su Zi and several other great cultivators said to ignore them.

Walking through the city, the man saw formations everywhere, and was amazed. “The defenses here are a bit exaggerated. Are the other places the same?”

The formations were layered, perfectly fitting together, without clashing. One of them was five Five Elements formations stacked together, refined and brilliant.

The old man nodded. “The other places are similar, and are being strengthened every day. Those cultivators care about face, and don’t want to lose face. The Great Brightness has never lacked talent, and there is no lack of spiritual coins.”

The man was worried. “Daoist Zhici, give me a straight answer. If I am surrounded, will you be responsible?”

The old man asked, “My words never count. Do you still want a straight answer?”

The man sighed. “Being friends with you is proof of my blindness.”

The old man said, “Why is your mouth so foul? Did you crawl under Yang Zhi’s or Guan Yi’s skirt before coming here?”

The man surrendered, shutting up.

Coming close to a place, the old man adjusted his collar.

The man felt enlightened, realizing that the journey had been worth it.

A Great Brightness Ministry of War official was teaching hundreds of people, explaining the strengths and weaknesses of the two sides in a recent battle.

The students included Confucian students, Daoists, and military generals.

The “school” was packed.

Li Huai sat in the corner by the window, taking notes.

Li Huai did not know much about battle formations, but enjoyed them, so he listened carefully.

The skinny old man stood outside the window, tiptoeing to look at the writing Li Huai.

Beside the old man, a muscular man leaned against the wall, picking up a handful of dirt and rubbing it.

The old man was proud. “No Name, what do you think of my student?”

The man, confused, said, “What ‘how’?”

Was it about his cultivation talent? His natural qualities? His spirit and Dao? The young man was not good in any of those areas.

The old man didn’t want to say more.

Li Huai noticed the shadow on his desk. Looking up, he was startled by the heads at the window. Recognizing the old blind man, he put down his pen and rubbed his wrist.

Soon, he realized that the teacher and several students were looking at him, and he felt embarrassed, trying to signal for the old blind man to leave.

The old blind man said, “It’s fine, we will wait until you finish class. We’re not interfering.”

Li Huai became anxious, using Sound Transmission, “Old blind man, don’t talk nonsense.”

The old blind man laughed. “Fine, fine. You keep studying. I’ll listen.”

Then, a handsome man with a willow branch came.

The old blind man didn’t speak, but raised his hand, shooing him away.

Unsurprisingly, he was rejected, and Liu Qi had to leave.

The man laughed. “Li Gou is still waiting for you at your home.”

The old blind man asked, “Did I tell him to wait?”

The man was helpless.

In the past, Zhici had not been like this in appearance or speech. How elegant, how extraordinary!

The Thousand Mountains.

Empty, desolate.

With the master not home, a demon in the form of a youth sat alone on the cliff.

After Bai Ze had awakened him, he had always kept the Qiankun sack and demon-catching gourd at his waist, but during the last meeting, Xiao Xuan had used a poor excuse to give them to Fei Ran as a gift.

A trivial matter.

Ten thousand years of waiting had not been in vain. He had finally reached a new realm.

Unlike Yang Zhi and Zhu Yan, the Great Brightness knew little about him.

It was hard to imagine that he and Zhici had once been comrades of those ancient scholars, and had even been close at first.

For example, Zhici had wanted to become the second human to refine a life character.

And he had always wanted to build a literal city of books, with its back to the king.

He had succeeded, thanks to Zhou Mi, who had paved the way for him. Now, he replaced the Old Fox and was the master of writing in the Savage Lands.

The youth reached into his sleeve, pulling out a book and reading it, his voice rhythmic, as if the act of reading itself was a Dao.

Books were like rice, like delicacies, like nectar, like strong wine. The books of the various schools were like vinegar.

Ten thousand years ago, he and Zhici had walked the same path, wanting to see the world inside and outside of books.

As for the demon skilled in talismans who had recently “accidentally” entered that Hao Ran studio, he had remained indifferent, only observing the movement of literature from afar.

When class ended, a virtuous scholar from Flowing Clouds Continent asked, “Li Huai, who is that?”

Li Huai was embarrassed. “That is my master, the kind from the mountains, not the academy.”

The scholar didn’t ask more, but nodded to the old man. The old man hesitated, then nodded back.

After all the students had left, the old blind man brought No Name inside, sitting across from Li Huai.

No Name leaned against the wall.

Li Huai asked, “Master, who is this?”

The old blind man said, “Ignore him. He has no name.”

The man cupped his fist in greeting. “Li Huai, I have heard much of you. Nice to meet you. I am just a martial artist.”

Li Huai was about to say something, but the old blind man said, “No need to be polite. He is not worth it.”

The man laughed, clearing the air. “A hero doesn’t care about such things. Just do as you please.”

Li Huai said, “Old blind man, you will have no friends if you are like this.”

The old blind man laughed. “I never had many friends. The ones who are my friends will be used to this.”

Li Huai clicked his tongue, giving a thumbs up. “Impressive, logical.”

The old blind man asked, “Do you drink?”

Li Huai laughed. “What do you think?”

The old blind man said, “Don’t be so reserved. No one will care.”

Li Huai raised his chin. “Then you be a teacher.”

The old blind man laughed. “I can teach, but they can’t handle it.”

Li Huai asked, “How many side dishes did you have? How many bottles of wine did you drink?”

The old blind man laughed.

No Name closed his eyes, tired.

Li Huai was more difficult than Bai Jing and Xiao Xuan combined.

The old blind man was silent for a moment, then asked, “Li Huai, recognizing a master is not the same as finding someone to rely on, right?”

Li Huai opened his eyes, asking, “If I’m not looking for someone to rely on, why would I look for a master?”

The old blind man scratched his cheek, unable to answer. The disciple had a point.

No Name wanted to close off his awareness. This disciple had more guts than talent.

Li Huai explained, “When I was young, my mother was my support. Later, I studied and had Chen Ping’an. At the Academy, Li Baoping and Lin Shouyi were my support. If you aren’t my support, then am I supposed to be yours? Old blind man, have you not been taking care of yourself?”

The old blind man laughed, changing the subject. “You and that Chen kid are friends. He is loyal. I trust him.”

Li Huai added, “Tender Daoist is good too.”

The old blind man didn’t respond, as if he would drag the Soaring Ascension realm cultivator here to trample if he mentioned his name.

He continued, “Ning Yao is like my own granddaughter. And Chen Xi once visited the Thousand Mountains. I pointed out a few things. So when you visit, you can ask him to be your support.”

Li Huai showed his cowardly side. “That’s an old sword immortal. I can’t do that.”

The old blind man nodded, having expected this. “I have already told Chen Xi, now Chen Ji, and he agreed to protect you if you visit the Colorful World.”

Li Huai lowered his voice. “Don’t make us sound like gangsters.”

The old blind man laughed. “The human world is all the same. I