On Mangzhong day of the Jia Chen year, during the morning assembly today, the extraordinarily intricate coiled-dragon caisson ceiling hung overhead. On the dragon throne sat the Dali emperor, Song He, in the prime of his life. In the grand hall stood a throng of officials, their ranks denoted by their different official patches. The position of the newly appointed Imperial Preceptor was almost identical to that of Cui Chan back then, facing the most powerful figures in Dali alongside the emperor.

Chen Ping’an held a seal in his cupped hands, its sides carved with the true forms of the Five Sacred Mountains, as well as the rivers Qi Du and Jiang He. Lakes like Shu Jian Lake were naturally also included, effectively encompassing the nation’s landscape “on the wall”.

The base bore the inscription “Seal of Chen Ping’an, Imperial Preceptor of Dali”.

The emperor personally bestowing this newly crafted imperial preceptor’s seal from the court signified the completion of the ceremony.

This meant that the lifeblood of the Dali Dynasty was now in his hands.

The old seal had not yet been retired from the records, and the new one had already been given.

Chen Ping’an remained silent, not participating in the discussion of any agenda item.

However, Song He clearly noticed that the civil and military officials, who could truly be called the pillars of the nation today, were very nervous. Those who spoke often needed to deliberately raise their voices. Those who remained silent in the ranks were holding their breath and concentrating. Many officials who pretended not to be nervous cast quick glances at the new Imperial Preceptor in his court attire from the corners of their eyes, hoping to glean more secrets from the subtle expressions on his face.

Chen Ping’an silently felt that mysterious sensation of divine inspiration. As he himself described it, the Dali Dynasty was a painting of ascension and integration with the Dao, the nation being the human body. The moment he acquired this seal in the most legitimate way, it was as if, in an instant, from the Imperial Ancestral Temple, the Directorate of Astronomy, the City God Temple, the Grand Profound Hall for praying for rain, the Fire God Temple within the capital… extending to the capital region, the birthplace of the Song clan of Dali, the flowing waters of the Grand Canal, the standing of the Five Sacred Mountains, the Song Yunqian of different cities, bearing the Daoist name of Ying Ning, the manifestation of dragon luck hovering above the Dali capital, a replica of White Jade City built upon a sea of clouds, all the heaven and earth Qi circulating within the Dali territory – Chen Ping’an could even clearly feel bursts of pulse beats.

It was as if they were all congratulating, all rejoicing, all bowing their heads.

Taking the imperial court as a Dao field, it was like a mysterious and profound integration with the Dao.

A single thought-seed of Chen Ping’an suddenly leaped out like a small fish from duckweed, or like a great sun suddenly rising from the sea. In that instant, above Bottle Prefecture, it was as if the second most majestic divine form in history appeared, like the azure sky opening an eye, looking down upon the human territory of the Dali Dynasty.

In a moment, within the inner world of Chen Ping’an’s heart-mind, which had just transformed from chaos into the scene of the primordial beginning, heaven and earth, clarity and turbidity were instantly separated. The world was created. The tornado then scattered with a roar, countless golden lights splashing out, like a sword-smith in his shop, raising a hammer high and smashing it down hard, vigorously pounding a glowing red sword embryo, sparks flying everywhere. There were tens of millions of golden characters, hundreds of spiritual Qi refined and re-melted from magical treasures and spiritual artifacts, and even rich and long-lasting martial arts luck, scattered like seeds in the heaven and earth of the human body, manifesting countless buildings, figures, mountains, rivers, grass, and trees within the inner world of the heart-mind.

Both eyes opened wide. The heart-mind saw itself at a glance. The cloud sea of Bottle Prefecture saw heaven and earth at a glance. The inner small world of the Daoist’s body and the outer great world of heaven and earth thus erected a golden bridge of immortality for the sensing of heaven and man.

Emperor Song He occasionally turned his head slightly, softly asking if the Imperial Preceptor had any opinions, or seeking Chen Ping’an’s view with his gaze. The latter always shook his head.

The court was about to establish a Dao region in Bingzhou. The investigation results of the Minister of Personnel, Changsun Mao, and the re-determination of the official ranks of the Six Ministries in the secondary capital, the reallocation of over 200,000 troops from various prefectures to reinforce the barbarian battlefield, and so on, were all significant matters.

The overly quiet and silent new Imperial Preceptor, to someone completely unaware, would mistake him for a puppet controlled by the Song clan of Dali, like a deaf and mute wooden figure standing in the court.

Most officials felt that since Chen Ping’an was a new official lighting three fires, his first public appearance at the morning assembly today would definitely involve some thunderous measures and drastic actions.

The remaining small fraction, who were relatively familiar with Chen Ping’an’s way of doing things, such as Cao Gengxin from the Ministry of Personnel, Zhao Yao from the Ministry of Punishment, Dong Hu from the Ministry of Rites, or the Dali grand officials who had already seen the chair in the small morning assembly welcoming its new occupant, while not thinking that Chen Ping’an needed to assert his authority by taking advantage of the opportunity, felt that as the new Imperial Preceptor, he would very likely say one or two words at the end of today’s morning assembly that would be deeply memorable, or even enough to awe the hundred officials?

Perhaps it was his first time wearing official attire, making him slightly uncomfortable. Chen Ping’an gently tugged at his collar, his shoulders moving slightly.

Due to his position, he had a clear view of the appearance and expressions of the officials in the hall.

No matter how bold Minister Cao was, he would not dare to bring that purple-skinned wine gourd during the morning assembly.

Zhao Yao, this junior in the literary lineage who had been exceptionally promoted to Assistant Minister despite having no degree beyond that of a mere candidate, still appeared somewhat seasoned and steady.

If not for the upheaval back then, according to Cui Chan’s predetermined arrangements, the Minister of Personnel of Dali should have been Ma Zhan, who also served as the head of Pine Cloud Mountain Academy.

Also present in the grand hall today were a group of elderly members of the Dali Song clan’s imperial family. Among them, several had been making small moves in recent years, attempting to gain real power in the court. It was likely that they had completely given up now. Under Cui Chan, the Song clan members were severely suppressed. Some who were talented and capable occasionally appeared but were always relegated to minor government offices, wasting their years, or spent their time raising flowers and birds in their manors, and thus became the elderly figures they were now. The result was that the new Imperial Preceptor was actually Cui Chan’s junior martial brother. How could anyone make sense of this?

Those who could still hold their own were likely Song Changjing of the previous generation and Prince Luo Song Mu of this generation. As for the imperial relatives, on the side of the Empress Dowager Nan Zan, her family didn’t even have a sixth-rank official. Empress Yu Mian was slightly better off, but only because the Yu clan was originally a surname of a Pillar of the Nation. Even so, just a few days ago within the Yu clan, what was ostensibly a visit by the Empress, full of grandeur, was actually a secret ancestral hall meeting, where a eunuch holding the seal of the Directorate of Rituals quietly appeared, carrying an imperial decree. A large crowd knelt down to receive the decree. During this time, an uncle and a cousin of Yu Mian, both holding official positions, were taken away on the spot. As for where they were taken, it could have been the imperial prison, or perhaps they were first processed at the Ministry of Punishment’s prison. Heaven knows.

Yu Mian remained expressionless from beginning to end. She only recalled that conversation which had left her with lingering fear. The Emperor himself had told her that if it were only the two cases investigated by Zhao Yao of the Ministry of Punishment, he could still help a little, but someone with the surname Yu within the Imperial Preceptor’s mansion dared to collude with outsiders and try to muddle through. The Empress Dowager had just inquired about this matter. Finally, the Emperor, with a gentle expression, asked her, “What do you think we should do?”

So that ancestral hall meeting lasted all night, filled with gloom and despair. When she got up and walked out of the ancestral hall, it was already dawn. Empress Yu Mian knew that from this day on, the Yu clan, a Pillar of the Nation with deep ties to the Dali border army, would begin its “orderly” withdrawal from the court within two to three years, forced to leave the border army and the officialdom. Twenty years. They would have to wait another twenty years. One of the bright or dark paths to promotion in the Dali officialdom, this “official path,” was thus cut off. But at least the Emperor, or to be precise, the Imperial Preceptor’s mansion, had given the Yu clan a measure of dignity.

The elder who was the head of the Yu clan stood beside Yu Mian at that time. The elder sighed with emotion, marveling at the ever-changing nature of officialdom. He spoke hoarsely, “I remember an old friend who always liked to go against Imperial Preceptor Cui. Later, he managed to retire relatively unscathed and told me that walking on certain paths that involved the overall direction of the nation’s destiny was like drinking wine. He drank half a cup, knew it was poisoned wine, and ended up half-dead, so he stopped drinking. But there are also some people who, having tasted that it’s poisoned wine, simply finish the rest.”

Afterwards, the elder used a metaphor that made Yu Mian both laugh and cry.

“The latter is unwilling to turn back, harder to pull than a fatted pig.”

Finally, the elder looked at her and smiled, “Changing tables and changing wine to drink, I won’t live to see that day, but you can, there’s still a chance.”

Zhao Yao was aware of these inside stories. He looked at Chen Ping’an. He had indeed kept his word, investigating to the end, with no upper limit.

Moreover, Zhao Yao now had a major case to handle. It turned out that Liu Suo, the former bookboy of the Secondary Capital Minister Liu Qingfeng, who was now a cultivator from Falling Lotus Mountain, had privately given Chen Ping’an a booklet. It concerned the excavation of the Grand Canal in the central part of Bottle Prefecture back then. It contained the secret records of Liu Qingfeng, who had served as the supervisor of the Grand Canal… This formidable figure. It implicated over two hundred royal nobles and official descendants from dozens of large and small families. There were over twenty third-rank officials alone in the capital, secondary capital, and local border regions who were connected to this matter. Eight of them were standing in the grand hall at this moment. They might have been aware, or they might have been completely ignorant. But Zhao Yao was absolutely certain that Imperial Preceptor Cui Chan was fully aware and had a tacit understanding with Liu Qingfeng, who for some reason had chosen to intentionally conceal the information for a long time.

Dong Hu, who had been stuck in the position of Assistant Minister of Rites for many years, listened to the proceedings while expertly zoning out. There were many tricks to participating in the morning assembly.

For this grand ceremony, the court did not invite anyone to observe, which also showed the self-confidence of the Dali Dynasty.

The Ministry of Rites was responsible for determining the font of the Imperial Preceptor’s seal beforehand. The standard font used throughout the continent was definitely not acceptable. Imitating the font of the former Imperial Preceptor Cui Chan, even though Chen Ping’an was Cui Chan’s junior martial brother, the Ministry of Rites still had reservations. After much thought, they finally came up with a relatively safe method: to find these characters from the Hundred Swords Immortal Seal Spectrum and the Two Hundred Swords Immortal Seal Spectrum!

Even after determining the font, the Ministry of Rites still faced a difficult problem. For example, the previous seal, “Seal of Cui Chan, Imperial Preceptor of Dali,” had exactly eight characters at the bottom, which allowed for neat arrangement.

The “arrangement” of the characters at the bottom of the new seal gave Dong Hu and the others headaches. After repeated consideration, they finally had to make an issue of the character “之” (zhi).

The hardships involved, only they themselves knew. In any case, the celebration finally concluded successfully. The officials of the Ministry of Rites, exhausted, felt a deep sense of honor.

Chen Ping’an raised his head again to look at the caisson ceiling.

For some reason, he always felt there was a layer of separation, as if there was an invisible great door between heaven and earth, and he was still missing a key.

After a moment of thought, Chen Ping’an conjured something out of thin air. He held the old Imperial Preceptor’s seal in his hand and directly ground it into powder.

Thinking back to that year, on a mountaintop, Cui Chan had once destroyed a seal on the spot – the “Chun” character seal given by his junior martial brother Qi Jingchun to his student Zhao Yao.

Outside the hall, on the side of the imperial steps, the female sword immortal Zhu Su suddenly withdrew from her “closed-door cultivation.”

Qi Tingji and Lu Zhi were both a little surprised. Xie Gou also felt puzzled. She was absolutely unwilling to hide her doubts and inquired with her heart-voice, “Sister Zhu Su, what’s going on? It’s just one step away, why withdraw your mind-spirit? This sword refinement is lacking a little in temperature. A difference of an inch is a difference of heaven and earth. Although it won’t be a complete failure, refining it again in the next closed-door cultivation will require twice the effort for half the result, wasting a lot of rare materials.”

Zhu Su smiled bitterly and said, “I don’t know why, but my intuition tells me I must leave my mind-calming state and temporarily stop refining the sword.”

Only Ning Yao and Xiao Mo, both at the Fourteenth Realm, were the first to notice the anomaly that had nothing to do with heaven and earth spiritual energy but was closely connected to Dali’s national luck and the Qi of the entire continent.

Zhu Su’s intuition was correct. She did it out of necessity, because she had to make way for the greater “Dao.”

Insisting on not making way was… far from contending for the Dao. It was like a螳臂当车 (mantis trying to stop a chariot) kind of obstruction. Zhu Su had to avoid its sharp edge and comply with the general trend.

At Mao Zheng San Ke (7:45 AM), the Dali morning assembly ended. Officials returned to their respective government offices to work. Those qualified to participate in the small morning assembly walked in twos and threes, heading together to the Emperor’s imperial study.

Those sword immortals had already left the capital in advance, heading to Falling Lotus Mountain on their swords. Above the Dali capital, sword Qi streaked like a rainbow, and a thunderous sound echoed in the clear blue sky.

Almost all the officials outside the hall looked up at the celestial scroll of sword immortals riding the wind in the azure sky, reluctant to look away for a long time. It was believed that when they returned home tonight, they would undoubtedly be subjected to questioning by the younger generation of their families.

Including the time spent on the road and a short rest, at Chen Shi Chu Ke (7:00 AM), the small morning assembly in the imperial study, where all the dukes and officials of the nation gathered, began.

For some reason, the new Imperial Preceptor Chen Ping’an did not accompany the Emperor out of the grand hall first, nor did he say a few words of farewell to his own group of sword immortals. Instead, he remained alone in the grand hall.

Within this unusually empty grand hall, Chen Ping’an paced back and forth by himself, as if strolling leisurely within his own home. During his walk, he occasionally shook his head, wagged his tail, and even hopped a few times.

At the Flower God Temple, Nian Xin went straight to the point and said, “The matter of the Hundred Flower Blessed Land apologizing to Feng Yi doesn’t need to be discussed. If this is what needs to be contested, then there’s no need to talk.”

Luo Fumen nodded, “One must admit one’s mistakes after making them. Both Flower Master Qi and we are willing to leave the Blessed Land. The specific time and place are all up to Feng Yi.”

Feng Yi smiled, “Everything is difficult at the beginning. Isn’t it suddenly clear now?”

Nian Xin turned her head to look at Feng Yi, who was in charge of the human world’s wind, and said, “However, after much thought, the Hidden Official still intends to politely decline the position of Supreme Guest Elder of the Blessed Land. Since Flower Goddess Luo is here, may I ask Feng Yi to change to another condition? The three of us can speak frankly and discuss?”

Feng Yi frowned, resting a finger as white as jade on her chin, lost in thought.

Luo Fumen was also caught a little off guard. Chen Ping’an serving as the Supreme Guest Elder of the entire Blessed Land was a matter that could be discussed. Why politely decline? It should be a win-win situation.

However, after thinking about it again, Luo Fumen was suddenly startled. She had just learned from Water Lord Wang Zhu that Chen Ping’an had just been appointed as the Imperial Preceptor of Dali? This was a bit troublesome.

Similar to Wang Zhu, Madam Tuoyan was also an outsider, but her mood was not relaxed either.

Madam Tuoyan had previously traveled with Shao Yunyan, who had friends everywhere, through the Middle Earth Divine Continent. During this time, they visited the Hundred Flower Blessed Land. She had already relayed the good news: Chen Ping’an had personally promised that the next time he visited the Hundred Flower Blessed Land, he would bring the “knot” that Feng Yi had temporarily entrusted him to look after. However, Chen Ping’an also clearly stated that the “return of the matter needed to be discussed face-to-face.”

But even so, the Flower Gods of the Blessed Land still looked at each other with disbelief, and some even leaped for joy, weeping with happiness. In short, it was all genuine emotion.

After all, it had been several thousand years. This “knot,” or rather, this “handle,” had been controlled by others. They didn’t even dare to go find that “Feng Yi.” Even if they went and pleaded bitterly, as long as the other party refused to meet, what could they do?

The colorful knot contained in the embroidered pouch that Feng Yi had asked the old scholar to bring to Chen Ping’an was refined from the life veins of the Flower Gods of the Hundred Flower Blessed Land, each with a wisp of their essence.

At that time, Feng Yi had proposed two conditions: that the Flower Gods of the Blessed Land come here and apologize to her, this “maid of the Feng family,” and that Chen Ping’an take the opportunity to become the Supreme Guest Elder of the Blessed Land.

Feng Yi also made one thing clear: if they refused to bow their heads and admit their mistakes, then it would be Chen Ping’an’s turn to be the protector, needing to protect the flower thieves on the mountain from being completely wiped out.

Feng Yi said with a smile, “Flower Goddess Luo, I am the most thin-skinned person. I’m really not good at actively making offers and setting conditions with people. How about you make a price for Qi Fang? If I think the price is right, we’ll turn the page and settle it today. We won’t be friends from now on. We’ll keep to ourselves and just give each other some face. If the price isn’t right, there are also two situations. One is that the price is a bit low, but we can continue to negotiate. The other is that the price is too low, which is equivalent to humiliating me again, and it’s face-to-face. In that case, I’ll have to settle both the new and old grudges together.”

Madam Tuoyan was apprehensive inside. Including herself, which of the human flowers did not depend on this Feng Yi’s favor?

Nian Xin said, “Flower Goddess Luo, can we discuss?”

Luo Fumen was extremely conflicted. The Flower Master’s original intention for this “descent” to the Flower God Temple in the Dali capital was to go with the flow and invite the young Hidden Official to be the Blessed Land’s guest elder. However, the fact that Chen Ping’an had officially become the Imperial Preceptor of Dali today was a huge unexpected twist. With such an official status, no matter how influential, for the Hundred Flower Blessed Land, it was an awkward and useless addition.

Luo Fumen was one of the Destiny Flower Gods and knew her own hardships. For so many years, the Blessed Land had not been unwilling to bypass Feng Yi and avoid a head-on confrontation to find a way to resolve the deadlock. For example, could they accumulate merit and seek help from the Temple of Literature to retrieve the knot? Or perhaps invite a great cultivator to serve as the Supreme Guest Elder of the entire Hundred Flower Blessed Land, and then travel to the Dali Dynasty together, thus giving Feng Yi enough face while not escalating the feud.

Therefore, at the previous Temple of Literature discussion, the Flower Master of the Hundred Flower Blessed Land had held a separate banquet to entertain Liu Qilang.

Her intention was simple: she wanted to invite Mr. Liu Qi, who had returned to Haoran from Qingming Heaven, to serve as the Supreme Guest Elder of the entire Blessed Land.

Unfortunately, Liu Qi politely declined.

Cultivation realm, talent in writing, appearance and demeanor, reputation and purity, and flawless merit – none could be missing!

Bai Ye naturally met all these requirements, but it was simply impossible to invite this most proud person in the human world.

In fact, Bai Ye serving as the Supreme Guest Elder of the peony was something they had “self-proclaimed.” Mr. Bai Ye simply didn’t bother to quibble back then.

Liu Qi didn’t drink for free. Before leaving the banquet slightly tipsy, he still said with a smile, “The one who tied the bell must untie it.”

Therefore, the news that Madam Tuoyan brought back made them so excited. At the very least, on this matter, it was Feng Yi who had taken the initiative to speak.

Luo Fumen cautiously said, “Can I discuss it with the Flower Master?”

Feng Yi nodded and said, “Of course. I’m staying at the Fire God Temple now. After you have discussed and have a definite answer, go there to talk to me? Miss Nian Xin, then I’ll trouble you to make another trip?”

Nian Xin smiled and said, “No problem.”

Afterwards, Feng Yi took Wang Zhu and walked out of the Flower God Temple first. Wang Zhu said that she would just wander around the capital some more. At the entrance of the temple, Feng Yi stopped. The woman no longer had the aloof air she had in the hall. Her eyes were doting, and she reached out to cover the young woman’s face, softly saying, “Don’t live this journey too bitterly. If you encounter troublesome things in the future, come find me for a drink and a chat. I may not be of much help to you, but Feng Yi can accompany you in cursing others.”

Wang Zhu grinned and said, “If I come too often, don’t get annoyed.”

The woman gently pinched Wang Zhu’s cheek with her fingers, “I’m afraid you won’t bother Feng Yi.”

Wang Zhu curtsied gracefully and left. After walking a distance, at the corner of the street, she turned back and saw Feng Yi still standing there with a smile on her face.

Wang Zhu waved her hand, made a face, and the woman nodded, returning a smile.

Feng Yi walked a path similar to that of the old carriage driver Su Kan, and she would also pass by the Grand Profound Hall where previous Dali emperors and rulers prayed for rain. It seemed that the Ministry of War now had its most important government office set up there, outside the Thousand-Pace Corridor. Feng Yi had personally witnessed the rise and fall of the Dali Song clan’s national power. Before Xiu Hu served as the Imperial Preceptor, as one of the vassal states of the Lu Dynasty, there were internal and external troubles. Feng Yi had personally seen an old woman who had been listening to government affairs behind a screen for many years, leading a young emperor who was not yet six years old, kneeling together on the prayer mats in the gloomy grand hall. The child was likely hungry, cold, and tired, crying uncontrollably… The early days of the Iris River were nowhere near as lively and prosperous as they are now. Feng Yi had also personally heard a Lu Dynasty official, who was the suzerain state, being entertained here by two officials from the Dali Ministry of Rites and the Court of State Ceremonial. Instead of being appreciative, the other party pointed at their noses and cursed, “This is how you treat guests? You really don’t know how to behave. This ghost place, if I come again, there will truly be ghosts…” This Lu Dynasty official, who was only a fifth-rank official, simply because a few fairies from Changchun Palace were not invited to accompany him for drinks, cursed two third-rank officials from a vassal state and swaggered away.

One of the officials stood by the river, his face flushed, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his shoulders slightly trembling.

A young and strong official who had just penalized himself by drinking three bowls as an apology at the banquet squatted by the river, vomiting uncontrollably, his eyes red, and cursing, “Damn it.”

Not only was Feng Yi clear about this, but all the mountain figures in Bottle Prefecture and all the Dali grand officials attending the small morning assembly knew perfectly well that the great dynasties south of the entire Grand Canal, all the nations, were waiting and hoping for the disintegration of the Dali Dynasty, so that they could feast. As long as there was an opportunity, they would swallow up the northern barbarians who had seized power illegitimately, the Dali Song clan who still occupied half the continent, piece by piece, like dismembering a corpse.

Earlier at Mao Shi Chu Ke (5:00 AM), on the north bank of the Grand Canal at the southern border of Dali, the sword boats began to head south.

Huge fleets, centered around one to two Dali sword boats and supported by dozens of Dali border army ferry boats, split into three routes and slowly swept across the Grand Canal.

The sword boat with a large banner flying high led a group of military ferry boats, mighty and vast, cutting through layers of cloud sea, traversing the Dao fields of various immortal mansions in a straight line.

During the day, when the great sun was in the center of the sky, they would cast huge shadows over the land, rivers, cities, and even the capitals of other nations.

When night fell and the world became dark, further south in Bottle Prefecture, they were still brilliant and radiant, like stars within reach.

Yang Hua, one of the Dukes of the Grand Canal, secretly went to the imperial palace to meet the Empress Dowager.

Nan Zan seemed to have become a different person. She pulled Yang Hua to drink some glutinous rice wine. For the first time, the two of them did not discuss any official matters but only talked about some old interesting stories with Yang Hua. Before parting, the Empress Dowager did not beat around the bush with Yang Hua but simply told her clearly that since the Grand Canal Marquis’s mansion was busy, she would not need to come to her side anymore.

Yang Hua walked out of the imperial palace, feeling as if a lifetime had passed in an instant.

Had she simply cut ties with her just like that?

After the morning assembly, Yan Yongfeng, who was the Grand Master of Ceremonies and also the current head of the Zi Zhao Yan clan, intentionally or unintentionally walked up to Bian Wenmao, the Assistant Grand Master of Ceremonies, and chatted with him for a few minutes. Yan Yongfeng had to rush to participate in the discussion in the imperial study, so this seemingly insignificant action was very telling in the eyes of those who were paying attention. The Court of Grand Ceremonies was one of the minor Nine Ministers’ yamen. It had six sub-departments. It was not a position on the cold bench, and certainly not a hot one. However, being the Grand Master of Ceremonies was the peak position in this line. The Vice Grand Master was the deputy, and the Assistant Grand Master was the aide. The Court of State Ceremonial had some overlap in authority with the Ministry of Rites. The transfer of the Grand Master of Ceremonies to the Grand Master of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices was the norm, almost a fixed rule. Transferring to the position of Assistant Minister of a ministry was very rare. In this morning assembly, the boundaries of authority for the major and minor Nine Ministers’ yamen were redefined. Those with discerning eyes guessed that Yan Yongfeng would be promoted soon, and the key was that it was very likely to be an exceptional promotion.

The reason was very simple, even somewhat absurd. It was because the new Imperial Preceptor seemed absent-minded, as if he was wandering thousands of miles away. Only when the Court of Grand Ceremonies was mentioned, whether by chance or intentionally, he did indeed cast his gaze towards the crowd of officials and dignitaries.

Yan Yongfeng casually asked, “Wenmao, you’ve worked in several government offices?”

The Assistant Grand Master of Ceremonies respectfully replied, “First as an editor in the Hanlin Academy, then I went to the Imperial Academy as an assistant instructor, registrar, and lecturer in legal studies. After that, I transferred to the Court of Imperial Sacrifices as a master of ceremonies, and then I came to our Court of Grand Ceremonies.”

Bian Wenmao’s attendance at this morning assembly was an exception due to his noble status as the Prefectural Education Commissioner of Chuzhou. His original official position was still Assistant Grand Master of Ceremonies.

Yan Yongfeng said, “Hmm, plus the Prefectural Education Commissioner of Chuzhou, you have already gained experience in multiple government offices. Your character is still steady.”

Bian Wenmao suppressed his excitement and said with a slight tremor, “I have learned a lot at the Court of Grand Ceremonies, but I still need more training.”

Yan Yongfeng said indifferently, “The prefectural education commissioners serve a four-year term. Remember to use this opportunity to do more practical things locally. Being able to do the most practical things in a theoretical position is a capability.”

Bian Wenmao nodded vigorously.

Yan Yongfeng said softly, “I remember Imperial Preceptor Cui once joked privately with me that border officials can disregard reputation for benefit, while pure officials and censors must absolutely not seek profit but can gain fame.”

Fine sweat seeped from Bian Wenmao’s forehead. He quickly reviewed his thoughts and confirmed that he had not made any gestures inconsistent with his status. He had truly served as a very “lean” Prefectural Education Commissioner of Chuzhou.

Yan Yongfeng smiled and said, “Capital officials have their own ways, and local officials also have their local habits, Wenmao. Don’t ruin your future. Remember to look at things with a long-term perspective. An official without self-control will always be led astray by wealth and women. I’m not trying to scare you, but I have stayed in local areas. The methods of dragging people down are diverse and numerous. You are about to leave the capital. These few words of encouragement are a reminder for you.”

Bian Wenmao said, “This subordinate will remember it!”

Previously, when the Emperor and Empress personally attended the wedding banquet, Bian Wenmao and his wife Shi Jiachun, and their two families, were already filled with surprise, everyone feeling like they were dreaming.

But who would have dared to imagine that the green-shirted man sitting on the chair with his legs crossed was now the Imperial Preceptor of Dali?

Near the Fire God Temple, Feng Yi heard Wang Zhu’s voice in her ear, “Qi Fang has also arrived. She’s accompanied by a ghost immortal. They met with Cui Minghuang from Guanhu Academy.”

Feng Yi smiled upon hearing this. “That ghost is the founding emperor of the Dayong Dynasty. It was he who set up a banner back then, almost ending up skeletal. He fought to protect the Hundred Flower Blessed Land, which is why it wasn’t completely destroyed by my anger. He’s not a bad person, just naturally romantic and passionate.”

There was only one Flower Master in the Hundred Flower Blessed Land, named Qi Fang, but only a handful of cultivators knew her given name “Xiang Xiu.”

A displaced person who had once hidden in the Hundred Flower Blessed Land, and later the刑官 (Punishment Official) Hao Su of Sword Qi City, had a shallow romantic relationship with her.

External discussions about Bamboo Sea Cave Heaven often focused on the Madam of Qing Shen Mountain and the Mountain God Banquet.

However, there were many more tales about the Hundred Flower Blessed Land that were alluring without being vulgar.

For example, Fu Jin, the top disciple of Zheng Juzhong from Baidi City, had a Destiny Flower God who admired this “Little Baidi,” whose appearance, demeanor, swordsmanship, and chess skills were all top-notch. Unfortunately, they were fated but lacked the connection, unable to become Dao companions. And in Middle Earth’s Great Dragon Fall, the司徒 (Situ, Minister) Meng Jing, who was revered as the Dragon Beard Immortal Lord, had another Destiny Flower God as his confidante. They had once traveled together through the mountains and rivers of the Northwest Three Continents.

In the twelve months of the year, there were four Destiny Flower Gods and twelve Monthly Flower Gods. The Dharma robes of the Destiny Flower Gods could be embroidered with the flowers of a season. Only the Flower Master could embroider all hundred flowers.

Each Monthly Flower God could invite a male guest elder. They were known as Male Flower Gods and could even establish a Supreme Guest Elder above themselves. However, for this person to hold this title, it was not something that a certain Monthly Flower God could decide alone. They had to be recognized by the entire Hundred Flower Blessed Land. For example, the Supreme Guest Elder of the peony was Mr. Bai Ye.

Of course, the most famous treasures of the Blessed Land were the complete sets of Twelve Flower God Cups. These were simply the top favorite of all good wine drinkers in the human world.

Each set was fired by different offices, so each wine cup would have different poems and inscriptions, like official kilns. If there were personal seals of the Flower Master and Destiny Flower Gods, they were imperial creations.

According to the private words of the white-haired boy, when the Hidden Official ancestor was under the grape arbor in Punishment Official Hao Su’s Dao field, he saw those Flower God Cups and his eyes lit up. Fortunately, he had read the books of the sages and knew the old principle that a gentleman does not seize what others love, so he didn’t forcibly take them.

At the previous Temple of Literature discussion, a certain person who was there to make up the numbers shamelessly begged everywhere and collected several sets of Flower God Cups. After leaving the Temple of Literature, he sold them off and immediately paid off several wine debts.

There was also a very famous Hundred Flower Garden within the Heavenly Master Mansion on Dragon Tiger Mountain.

Seeing that Feng Yi didn’t take it to heart, Wang Zhu stopped talking. The streets were no longer so congested, but the entire capital was still immersed in an indescribable feeling of warmth.

Once upon a time, in the freezing cold season, at dusk, in a dilapidated alley covered with thick snow, someone was curled up outside the door, while someone lit an oil lamp inside the house.

The latter was a light sleeper. Hearing the movement outside the door, the poor and frail orphan was worried whether it was the neighbor next door being robbed by someone who had climbed over the wall, or whether it was a drunkard who had fallen in the alley.

Wang Zhu still refused to admit that the music of heaven was nothing more than the word “who.”

In a small and exquisite official’s residence garden in the outer city, Qi Fang had arrived in the Dali capital. When she learned that Chen Ping’an was already the Imperial Preceptor of Dali, she hesitated instead.

If Chen Ping’an didn’t have this secular identity, but was at the Temple of Literature, pursuing the Three Immortalities. For example, one day, if he became the Chancellor of the Academy? How wonderful would that be.

There were rumors that the Temple of Literature was about to add a Jixia Academy in a place called Yingqiu. Whose learning would be emphasized was obvious.

So, who would become the Chancellor and Dean of the Jixia Academy in the future? The protective nature of the Wen Sheng lineage was acknowledged by several heavens. And Chen Ping’an was Wen Sheng’s last disciple.

Commanding troops from the summer resort palace, he bought three more years for Haoran. Then, as the last Hidden Official, he single-handedly guarded half of Sword Qi City. If this wasn’t considered meritorious service, what was?

A green-shirted figure beat a drum on the mountaintop, ushering in spring for the world.

Thereafter, he single-handedly compensated for the geographical deficiencies of Tong Yezhou.

He had records of his merits at the Middle Earth Temple of Literature.

So, did this mean that this inheritor of the Wen Sheng lineage, the last disciple of the old scholar, was only missing the matter of “establishing words”?

Would becoming the Chancellor of the Jixia Academy allow him to establish words?

For example, Cui Jian, the protector of the Hundred Flower Blessed Land, once made a joke, “If I were the true manager of the Temple of Literature, I would insist that Hidden Official Chen enter both the Temple of Literature and the Temple of Military.”

The middle-aged man sitting and drinking beside Qi Fang, although dressed simply, could not conceal his natural air of elegance and nobility. The man was from the Dayong Dynasty in the Middle Earth Divine Continent. The custom of the entire nation wearing flowers originated from him, the founding emperor, whose surname was Cui and given name Jian.

Both he and Cui Minghuang across the table shared the surname Cui, but the Cui clan of Dayong had no connection to the Cui clan of Bottle Prefecture. Although every nation’s imperial examinations had a Tan Hua (third place), no dynasty paid as much attention to the new Tan Hua as the Dayong Dynasty, to the point that it became a family tradition of the Cui clan. There were strict requirements for the age, appearance, talent, and ability to write poetry of every Tan Hua.

Cui Minghuang was the pillar of the current Cui clan and the undisputed future head of the family. He already held the title of gentleman and had just been promoted to Vice Head of Guanhu Academy.

The Cui clan of Bottle Prefecture was a prominent aristocratic family that had held official positions for generations. However, for some reason, only a few peak figures in Bottle Prefecture knew the relationship between Xiu Hu Cui Chan and the Cui clan. As for Cui Cheng, even the younger generation within the current Cui clan were no longer quite sure who this old man was. It seemed that this head of the family from a hundred years ago only had a solitary name on the family tree.

During the previous large-scale Temple of Literature discussion in Middle Earth, three elegant gatherings were held. The initiators were the Liu clan of Aiai Prefecture, Yu Pan Shui of the Xuan Mi Dynasty, and Qi Fang, the Flower Master of the Hundred Flower Blessed Land.

Among them, Flower Master Qi Fang invited distinguished guests such as Zheng Juzhong, Su Zi, Madam Qing Zhong of Lu Shui Pit, Huai Yin, Wei Ying, and Wu Shu.

There is no need to mention Zheng Juzhong of Baidi City.

Just speaking of Su Zi, he has now entered the Fourteenth Realm. Madam Qing Zhong quickly rose to become the Lord of Land and Water Transport, and not long ago, news spread that Wu Shu had already entered the first level of Divinity on the barbarian battlefield.

Cultivators, gods, and martial artists each had great opportunities.

As expected of an elegant gathering hosted by the Flower Master of the Hundred Flower Blessed Land. It was truly a blessed land!

If Feng Yi hadn’t suddenly changed her mind and taken the initiative to “bring up old scores,” calling Luo Fumen and the others to the Flower God Temple, Chen Ping’an had indeed planned to visit the Hundred Flower Blessed Land. Zhu Lian, upon learning that his Mountain Lord would definitely visit the Hundred Flower Blessed Land in the future and might give away the colorful knot shaped like a flower coin, asked the Mountain Lord to help him verify something: the truthfulness of certain statements in strange tales books, such as whether the officials in charge of seasonal reports at the Flower God Temple could truly control flower omens and whether there were any male immortal officials in the Blessed Land.

Affecting elegance? Between Zhu Lian and elegance, it was hard to say who was affecting whom.

Within the empty grand hall, Chen Ping’an finally stood still.

The official roads and postal routes and the Grand Canal and rivers were like the meridians of the human body. The cities and lakes were the convergence points of the various dragon veins within Dali’s territory.

With vigorous Qi and blood, and high spirits, the body is healthy when the spirit is strong. The hearts of the people of a nation are as one. Those who observe the Dao use this to prove their Dao, which is exactly like the Dao following the dragon, ascending into the sky.

Having experienced the impermanence of life at a young age, he rarely had moments of high spirits. What he had gained, he was always afraid of losing. What he had not yet obtained, he dared not look forward to.

It was as if every tomorrow of his life was always gray, making it difficult to experience the feeling of bright dawn mentioned in books.

But Chen Ping’an did indeed have a few instances where his eyes were bright and he spoke his mind freely, such as when he fought alongside Song Yushao as a young chivalrous man. On the battlefield of Sword Qi City, he replaced Ning Yao and fought against Li Zhen. In prison, he spoke arrogantly and questioned and sparred with the visualized White Jade City. Upon returning to Haoran, in the night ferry, he slew Jiang She, the ancestor of the military strategists.

In an instant, the entire capital trembled slightly, but after a moment, it returned to calm.

A huge ripple of Qi and fate flashed by, “submerging” the entire territory of Dali, and even having some energy left, surging towards the south of Bottle Prefecture, only to clearly pause at the Grand Canal.

In the private residence not far from the Flower God Temple, Liu Laocheng sensed something was wrong. Gao Mian was only in the Golden Core realm now, and was slow to perceive celestial phenomena, thus having no sensation.

Old Zhenren Liang Shuang let out a surprised “Yi,” and forced himself to calculate with his fingers. His fingertips quickly sizzled and smoked. He shook his hand vigorously and exclaimed, “What grand spirit!”

A mere lightness of being and raising of form was imminent, yet without truly proving the Dao, he could already move the Qi of a nation and half a continent?

If anyone who becomes Imperial Preceptor gets such a huge benefit, shouldn’t I hurry and become the Imperial Preceptor of more dynasties?

At the Imperial Preceptor’s mansion, under the peach tree, Song Yunqian looked up at the sky, clapped his hands and laughed, “On a good day, a beautiful day, ascension to the land, proving the Dao and seeing the blue sky.”

Having already refined both the new and old seals, Chen Ping’an gathered his mind-spirit and called out Liu Xiang’s name directly.

As an existence that was a manifestation of the Great Dao in Haoran, Liu Xiang, who lived in seclusion in the countryside, immediately gave the greatest response.

But it was still not enough.

The old blind man who had already ascended to heaven, restoring his true appearance Dao body, Zhi Ci, reached out and grasped into the distant human world, then pulled upwards forcefully.

It was as if he was forcibly dragging someone.

At the same time, half of Sword Qi City began to shake and rumble incessantly, like a sudden thunderclap on flat ground. In an instant, half of the city wall actually rose from the ground, and in a flash, it collided with the River of Time, stirring up waves of unparalleled brilliant light. The half of the long city was like the most massive flying sword in the world, undergoing a visible sword washing and tempering, a complete transformation. This long sword continuously shattered, turning into dust, scattering over the vast sea, and finally condensing into a true long sword.

The sword arrived at Bottle Prefecture, at the Dali capital, at the imperial palace hall. Chen Ping’an reached out and received the sword.

Holding the sword in hand.

The spirit of a sword cultivator, three feet in might, flowing for eternity, his heroic spirit resolute for ten thousand years.

A true body remained in place, a ethereal Dharma body, rising up in a single rush, ascending to the blue sky in the Ascended Realm.

He actually directly crossed two heavens and traveled in Qingming Heaven.

No matter how high White Jade City was, there was still the blue sky above.

The Great Dao of the entire world trembled along with it. At the highest point, a piercing sound like tearing silk echoed in the sky. Only a pair of giant hands seemed to forcefully tear open the blue sky.

That person leaned his head out, a pair of pure golden eyes, looking down at the entire White Jade City. Countless Dao officials looked up at the sky. This swordsman traveling afar, looked down and met the gaze of Yu Dou who was looking up.