**(May the Lantern Festival bring joy to all, and blessings upon this Year of the Dragon!)**

Upon the boundless realm of Hao Ran, where the heavens stretch wide, lies the humble Falling Mountain of Baoping Continent. Unbeknownst to many, it has become a strategic nexus, a prize sought by ambitious warlords and cunning strategists alike.

Like the fabled ‘Waist of the World,’ a fortified city of immense power, even the grandest armies and sweeping tides of destiny find themselves unable to circumvent this unassuming place.

To unravel the mystery of its significance, one must inquire of the mountain itself, and the person who dwells there.

The venerable Scholar Xun, his brow furrowed with concern, twitched his nose, as if perusing an ancient tome of war. The air, he seemed to perceive, was thick with the scent of gunpowder and impending conflict. What was to be done?

With grave urgency, Xiao Mo and Xie Gou hastened to the courtyard, only to be met by the Scholar’s hushed warning, “Xianyang, I implore you, restrain your impetuosity.”

Liu Xianyang, attempting a stern demeanor, retorted, “Fear not, for my axemen shall await the signal of a shattered goblet before drawing their steel.”

Xie Gou, inwardly admiring Liu Xianyang’s apparent composure, mused upon the man’s boundless heart.

Jiang She himself arrived unannounced, and his attack upon their own Mountain Lord was as sudden as it was discourteous. These were not people given to niceties.

To arrive empty-handed was already a mark of ill breeding. Yet, instead of seeking kinship, they behaved like creditors demanding repayment. How was this debacle to be resolved? Xie Gou, seething with suppressed frustration, glanced askance at the female cultivator Wu Yan, who offered a conciliatory smile of apology, acknowledging that her presence had implicated her friend.

The Scholar chuckled softly, patting Liu Xianyang’s arm. “Do not feel perpetually indebted to Chen Ping’an.”

Within the private garden of a temporary City Lord’s estate in Spirit Crest City, Wu Yan found herself in the most unenviable position. Once, she might have been considered a mere acquaintance, now she was viewed as a half-recognized foe. Several times, the woman cast longing glances toward Pei Qian, her entreaties met with stony silence. Yet, even these fleeting glimpses were enough to fill her with a measure of contentment. Pei Qian did not possess beauty that overwhelmed the senses, but her neatly tied hair, revealing a high forehead, slender eyebrows, and a perpetually cool demeanor, spoke of a spirit unbowed by circumstance. Even in the face of this unexpected turmoil, her eyes shone with unwavering resolve, devoid of any sign of despondency.

In Wu Yan’s estimation, this extraordinary woman was not merely a remarkable figure of the last century, nor even of Hao Ran, but the rarest of blossoms, a wood nymph among the forest of all humankind, throughout all of recorded history.

Pei Qian’s exceptional “progress” only deepened Wu Yan’s guilt, leaving her speechless and unable to meet her gaze.

Liu Xianyang, after a moment of quiet reflection, declared, “Master Xun may have misunderstood. If it were a matter of defending a friend, even at the cost of one’s life, Chen Ping’an would do it, and so would I. Therefore, I feel no particular debt to him. Indeed, he should consider himself unfortunate to have a ne’er-do-well like me as a friend. I have always known what to say, what to do, and how to be a proper friend to Chen Ping’an. That much remains unchanged. Yet, over the years, the memory of his desperate pleas for help, begging old Yang in the pharmacy for medicine, imploring neighbor Wang Zhu for elm leaves, demanding justice from Supervisor Song Changjing, fills my heart with sorrow.”

The Scholar murmured his agreement, raising a fist to lightly tap his heart. “I, too, understand that feeling. I only learned much later that my proud student bowed his head and toasted others at drinking parties, solely to sell a few more books for his master. Such things pain the soul.”

Through the threadbare clothes and worn-out straw sandals of those bleak years, Liu Xianyang’s presence in Chen Ping’an’s life in Mud Bottle Lane was as a beacon during the bitterest winters. Even when the sky was a dull gray, and the future obscured, there was still a spark of certainty in his heart: that above the clouds, the sun still shone.

And it was not Chen Ping’an alone. Many, whose origins and circumstances were similarly shrouded in gloom, walked a narrow, shadowed path. Yet, when they chanced to look up, a sliver of light, like a path out of darkness, beckoned.

Liu Xianyang cut to the chase, “What is Jiang She truly after?”

He was not Xiao Mo or Bai Jing, those ancient Taoists who recorded the old calendars. To truly know a person’s nature, one must experience it firsthand.

For if Jiang She truly wished to acknowledge Pei Qian as kin, why cultivate animosity with Chen Ping’an?

The Scholar, his face etched with worry, explained, “To understand why one does good, at its root lies a singular motivation. But to explain the illogical, the convoluted, there are a thousand reasons.”

Even with Jiang She’s consort present, Xiao Mo did not mince words, “It is easily guessed. Jiang She holds the title of Forefather of the Military School in the highest regard, while Pei Qian he deems of little consequence.”

He tempered his words for Pei Qian’s sake, lest he wound her deeply. In ancient times, among cultivators, a steadfast devotion to the Tao and a pure heart were not mere platitudes. The taming of the mind-monkey and dragon-horse in Buddhism, the Taoist method of severing the Three Corpses, or the all-encompassing “heart-demon” of the Qi cultivators, were all great thieves upon the road to enlightenment, brigands who sought to plunder the path to immortality. Pei Qian, being the remnant of “evil intent” from Jiang She’s daughter’s previous life, was inevitably the key to his present-day ascension. One must sever the tie without hesitation, and allow no indecision to cloud the mind.

The great brigand is within the heart, the thief upon the path resides within oneself.

“Having waited until the Three Sages of the Teachings had dispersed their powers, Jiang She foolishly believed the time was ripe. He seeks to enact another creation myth, to write the prologue to a new age, believing that only he, Jiang She, is worthy. By slaying my young lord, he would announce it to the world, as a general captures the banner on the battlefield. Jiang She would gain renown, gather his forces, and overturn the old world in a single blow.”

Here, Xiao Mo scoffed. “Jiang She and his military strategy…ten thousand years, and he remains unchanged.”

Wu Yan, on the verge of speaking, held her tongue, fearing to add fuel to the fire.

Xiao Mo continued, “Yet, it must be admitted that those who achieve great deeds throughout history are often ruthless figures like Jiang She, those most adept at slaying heroes.”

The Scholar, deliberately changing the subject, chuckled. “Generally, when facing death and disaster, one might expect one or two to offer aid. I dare not hope for more. But my student has inspired you all to risk your lives for him, without reservation. This is a testament to his fairness and his worth. As his master, I have chosen well, and my heart is filled with pride.”

Muttering to himself, the Scholar began pacing the courtyard, stretching his arms and rotating his neck, like an old official retired to his homeland. He seemed inspired. “Since haste will avail us naught, perhaps a game of strategy is in order. Is there a master among us? One to bring good fortune, of course. Ha! ‘A visitor inquires of the dangers north of the Huai River,’ the answer comes, ‘The children have defeated the bandits!’ Would that not be a fine omen?”

But no one accepted the Scholar’s invitation. Xie Gou, unable to bear the awkward silence, volunteered, “I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

The Scholar eyed the eager girl in the sable hat. She was likely the sort who frequently exclaimed, “Allow me to take that move back!” Shaking his head, he said, “Never mind, chess is a drain upon one’s spirit. I shall not squander my energy.”

The Scholar stroked his beard and, after a long pause, said, “The Tao Te Ching of the Taoist Ancestor spoke of taking from the excess to replenish the deficient, which is the Tao of Heaven. The way of man is to take from the deficient to add to the excess. Only the Taoist can have excess to offer to the world.”

Liu Xianyang nodded. “That is the basis of the ‘offering’ concept among the immortals on the mountains.”

Heaven and Earth provide nourishment. To ascend the mountains and cultivate the Tao, one must offer something in return. This concept of repaying debts is as immutable as the heavens themselves.

The Scholar lamented, “In the mortal realm, there are too many with excess and too many with nothing to call their own. A select few possess the greatest share, creating an imbalance, akin to a body afflicted with illness, muddled and confused. The Tao, however, never ceases its cycle. Thus, the heavens must change, and portents arise. The lands of the noble clans, the ownership of the spiritual energy of mountains and rivers, the gold and silver treasures of the world, the immortal coins of the mountains – all will be scattered and rearranged. Hence, the Three Sages dispersed their teachings, seeking to pacify Heaven and Earth, to harmonize yin and yang. The beginning is always the most difficult. They sought to end a book written for ten thousand years, and to write a beautiful introduction to a new chapter for humankind.”

Wu Yan spoke, her words carrying considerable weight, “And thus, someone is needed to act on behalf of the heavens.”

Zhou Mi of the barbarian lands once held such thoughts, and Zhang Fenghai of the Azure Heavens likely does as well. Though their methods and paths may differ, their grand ambitions are one and the same.

Liu Xianyang found a spot against a pillar, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes, entering a meditative state.

Xie Gou hesitated, then uttered a somewhat self-deprecating truth, “In any case, Jiang She was the fourth after the battle to ascend the heavens, before the mutual dissolution.”

After all, Jiang She was recognized as the fourth most powerful figure by all Taoists of ancient times.

Her implication was clear: Jiang She, the Forefather of the Military School, was a formidable opponent. Mountain Lord, tread carefully.

Do not seek victory. To survive is to win.

If Jiang She’s abilities were lacking, would the Taoist Ancestor have intervened personally? He was forced to engage Jiang She in single combat.

Bai Jing, the sword cultivator, has high expectations, but does not feel qualified to be compared to the Taoist Ancestor, and has no intention of it.

Xie Gou frequently implied that the Scholar should seek help once again from Young Master Fu. Trouble once is trouble, owing two favors is owing two. As a Jianghu traveler, you should enjoy both gratitude and revenge, there’s no need to value face too much.

However, the Scholar seemed oblivious to Xie Gou’s reminders. He simply straightened his robes and said to himself, “What is most commendable and worthy of respect is that before ascending to the heavens, those martyrs, sages, and scholars never believed they would survive. They did not care whether their names or titles would be remembered by posterity. The most important thing is that they never thought they would win!”

After a pause, the Scholar turned to the girl in the sable hat and asked with a smile, “Miss Xie, as the first woman to ascend to the Heavenly Court, what were your thoughts upon sheathing your sword?”

Xie Gou grinned. “My thoughts were simple, four words: ‘Did we really win?'”

Bai Jing at that time was covered in blood. Her robes were stained with red and gold blood. The exhausted woman had heavy eyelids. Her second thought was: “I need to sleep, everything else will have to wait.”

The Scholar continued, “How many ancient heroes now exist as earth immortals? Their status and situation are akin to mountain and water deities now canonized by Heaven, the Imperial Court, and the Confucian Temple. They have gained freedom. And still they risk their lives and are generous.”

“Why?”

“To blaze a wide path for all sentient beings of later generations.”

“This path is called freedom.”

Hearing these words, Wu Yan’s eyes shone with exceptional brilliance. Even though she was on the opposite side, she genuinely admired the Scholar’s spirit.

Those who oppose me are not all villains. There may be imperfections, omissions, and mistakes, but they can still be people of generous character, insight, and action.

If this stooped old man had lived in that glorious era, he would have fought alongside them, and performed youthful and spirited feats.

Wu Yan pondered slightly, and opened her mouth to ask about something she had already contemplated. “May I ask the Literary Sage: did the Taoist Ancestor’s moral, the Most Sage Teacher’s benevolence, Young Master Fu’s propriety, the Confucian Saint’s righteousness, Yu Dou’s adherence to rules, and Mountain Lord Chen’s pursuit of being without fault, were the essence of their teachings not motivated by utilitarianism?”

The woman had no aggressive aura, but sincere inquiries and humble questions.

The Scholar said, “To truly explain this matter clearly, you must ask my first disciple.”

“To clearly explain a great truth, it is not enough to speak calmly in a few words or dozens of words; you must spend patience on thousands of things. If you are impatient, you cannot explain the truth well.”

The Scholar smiled. “Whether you call it utilitarian or pragmatic, it is nothing more than seeking the greatest public benefit for all beings without harming individual private interests. This is the heart of heaven, which is almost Tao. If one principle is not understood, all principles are obscured.”

The Scholar slowly said, “For a country, the most important things are worship and war. The Three Teachings are one family. It is not that the Three Teachings look down on the military school, but that the Three Teachings respect and fear your Legalists. Of course, the military is indispensable for winning the country. In troubled times, all schools can be missed, except the military. Although I am a scholar who likes to write sour articles, I dare to agree with this principle. In troubled times, we open the sky with our fists and cut through thorns to create a path, we must create a path for the dark world so that the world of troubled times where life is as cheap as grass can become a peaceful world where everyone talks about farming. If the military is not great, who can say they are great? But, it has never been easy to establish an order. No matter how many laws you create or how many people you punish, it is always not enough. Fellow Daoist Wu Yan, do you know why it is difficult for the Military School to establish a religion? In contrast, the Confucian, Buddhist, and Taoist schools are much smoother? It is not that Jiang She’s attempted rebellion caused the Military School to lose the title. You can say that many of the Three Teachings have bad intentions, recite crooked scriptures, and practice biased Taoism, but you should be clear about one fact: the Supreme Sage, the Taoist Ancestor, and Buddha all had the spirit, mind, vision, Tao, and skills. They were not so petty that they deliberately targeted your military. You can also say that if Daoist Jiang She became the most respected one day, and he can also make the Three Teachings and the various schools of thought complementary. It’s just a matter of distinguishing the primary and secondary schools, so why not? Still because the old scholar is sitting in the Confucian Temple, he is already biased. No, in my opinion, tracing the root cause lies in the teachings of the Three Teachings. Their fundamental principles lie in how to suppress desires.

“Military strategy, Military and Legalist. The Military School is too submissive to people’s desires. It instigates people’s hearts and uses the trend to guide people. With the will of people, they can use the steel-clad army, and be invincible. Winning battles and destroying countries, everyone wants to establish unparalleled achievements. It is even more difficult to suppress the desire for wealth and glory. ”

Wu Yan was surprised, it was the first time someone said this principle to her.

Pei Qian wanted to say something, but Liu Xianyang shook his head, telling her not to say anything.

The Scholar smiled and said, “So it is not that I can’t trust your Military School. In the end, I can’t trust people’s hearts and desires.”

“The flood is vast, and the sea of desire is surging. The invisible water level of the world is here…”

Speaking of this, the Scholar extended a hand, palm down, placed it on the chest, and slightly lifted it, “If you can’t hold it down, the water level will get higher and higher.”

Liu Xianyang opened his eyes and said, “There is no way to avoid it, and the weak will drown first.”

Liu Xianyang had mocked and even scolded Chen Ping’an for being a good person.

But there was one thing that Liu Xianyang would not even ridicule, probably because they were both born in poverty, so in their respective future paths, they firmly believed in doing their best to give all people like Liu Xianyang and Chen Pingan a glimmer of hope. Books say that is hope.

Because treating them well is treating ourselves well, treating our childhood and youth well.

What is youth? Still believes that some principles make sense. What is duskiness? No longer believes that any reason works.

The old saying goes that people are no longer young, but the world does not seem to be good enough, so that many young people have never been young.

The Scholar said, “I came here in a hurry this time, wanting to support my students, you are parents, and I am also a teacher, so I think there is such a relationship, there is no reason why we can’t open the skylight and say a few bright words, so I also want to listen to your thoughts, and see if you can convince me. I look forward to it very much. After ten thousand years of long thinking, Jiang She has a better idea for the road. If it is really feasible, then we can try it. If there are still doubts, let’s talk a few more words. Reasoning is not a quarrel, but we can always get clearer as we talk.”

It seemed that the old man’s face became tired from talking too much.

The old man looked at the woman and asked softly, “How can you bear to part with such a good daughter?”

Without waiting for an answer, the thin old man looked at Pei Qian and Liu Xianyang, and at Xiao Mo and Miss Xie. He stretched out his hand from his sleeve, rubbed his palms, muttered to himself, his eyebrows and eyes softened, and his head gradually lifted to look into the distance. It was as if the spring breeze and warm light that he had been saving for years were all used at this moment.

The great path is the high blue sky, the thick yellow soil, and it is to help people cross the sea of suffering.

I am not very capable, I only know how to teach and educate people.

The Scholar is not poor, he has a good life. Nor is he a bookworm, he is patient with everyone he speaks to.

Thank you all for loving me because you love my students. The Scholar is very grateful.

Whether it is the elders and juniors of a family, or the teachers and students in a cultural and Taoist tradition.

If the moon can be round, the cups can be full, and the lights can be close, then every day is the Lantern Festival.