## Night-Sailing Ship, Rhinoceros City: The Substitute City Lord’s Private Residence

Chen Ping’an, lost in a brief slumber, knew not how much time had slipped away. When his eyes fluttered open, he found himself within the dwelling, seated upon a chair.

Beside him, Pei Qian whispered, “Master may rest a while longer.”

Across from them, the venerable Scholar, stroking his beard, chuckled. “Take your ease. There is no harm. To steal a moment from the press of affairs will not cause the heavens to fall.”

Whispers of turmoil reached even these quiet corners, tales of chaos swirling within the Temple of Literature and the Ancestral Hall of the Strategists. Both cried for his return to command order, but the old Scholar turned a deaf ear, feigning ignorance.

Ning Yao spoke, her voice sharp and clear as mountain air. “Wu Shuangjiang has returned to the Azure Darkness, leaving behind two Objects of Proximity for Cui Dongshan. All the reward he could offer is within. As for what he could not carry, Xiao Mo may deliver a single stroke and then immediately journey to the Azure Darkness. First, she should seek the Temple of Observing the Way under the Bright Moon and Radiant Colors, and then the venerable Bi Xiao will guide Xiao Mo to the Palace of Year’s End. Thus, it becomes a simple matter of sightseeing, and the White Jade Capital shall find little to object to. Master Zheng remains in the outer courtyard, sharing words with Bai Jing.”

Chen Ping’an nodded, facing the imposing figure of Jiang She, seated with the swagger of a conquering general. He rested an arm upon the chair’s armrest, unsure of how to address Pei Qian beside him.

Outside, in the courtyard, Zheng Juzhong returned the “Upstream” and “Downstream” flying swords to Bai Jing, offering a word of thanks.

Xie Gou, unwary, reclaimed her natal blades without hesitation, showing no concern that Zheng Juzhong might have tampered with them. She grinned, revealing sharp teeth. “Oh ho! The quality has improved considerably. I should be thanking Master Zheng. Should there be similar opportunities to test blades in the future, simply call out. I shall gladly lend them again.”

“A fair exchange,” Zheng Juzhong replied with a subtle smile.

Xie Gou mused aloud, “In days past, sparring with fellow sword cultivators was the most unrewarding pursuit. Beyond a worthless title, there was nothing to gain. Once, I forcibly severed many natal swords, but I could never truly master them. They were all rendered useless, a waste of time and precious materials! It infuriates me. Those broken blades served only to frighten, and in time, my reputation soured. Many mistakenly believed I possessed seven or eight natal swords! All lies!”

Zheng Juzhong offered his insight. “Perhaps the attempts were not numerous enough.”

Xie Gou hummed in agreement, nodding vigorously. “There were so few fellow travelers with whom I could converse honestly. Sword arts, spells, the secrets of cultivation… all were learned through blind groping. If only I had met Master Zheng sooner!”

Zheng Juzhong merely smiled, offering no reply.

Xie Gou understood. An earlier meeting would have led to one of two outcomes: either kinship or the demise of one party. Her temper and patience, matched against Zheng Juzhong’s intellect, meant that once bloodlust arose, there would be no turning back.

“Such a clamor,” Xie Gou sighed. “Could you share the details of what transpired?”

Zheng Juzhong shook his head. “To speak more would be futile.”

As they parted, Zheng Juzhong uttered a cryptic phrase, “With proper method, writing regular script and cursive can nourish the spirit.”

“Yet the meticulous strokes of miniature calligraphy, no matter how skilled the hand, are most taxing.”

“Its virtue lies in its suitability for long works. When complete, whether laid upon a desk or hung upon a wall, the knowing observer, the closer they look and the longer they gaze, the more their heart will tremble.”

Xie Gou nodded. “At the Fallen Peak and the Great Mountains, I considered such a path, but I could not bring myself to commit.”

She understood Zheng Juzhong’s meaning. Upon witnessing Yu Xuan receive the ancestral Dao’s gift of purple auspiciousness at Fallen Peak, Xie Gou had been deeply troubled, not from envy, but from frustration at her own lack of achievement. ‘A short sword I bear, only to view the mountains!’

The sword cultivator Bai Jing possessed too much talent, too much good fortune. Her path of cultivation had been far too smooth. A millennium past, upon the mortal plane, whether duels or grudges, Bai Jing had never needed “lengthy” explanations; all were like short, piercing blades.

Xie Gou raised her chin slightly, speaking softly. “Will Master Zheng not enter and maintain order? I fear another quarrel, another battle.”

Zheng Juzhong shook his head. “My presence serves no purpose there. It is not a place where reason prevails.”

Xie Gou feigned shock. “Master Zheng should not belittle himself.”

Zheng Juzhong replied wryly, “I have never known the meaning of affection. Be it familial, romantic, or platonic.”

Xie Gou’s gaze softened with pity. “A pity, indeed.”

“It is well enough,” Zheng Juzhong said, smiling.

From afar, Xiao Mo chided, “Speak with Master Zheng with greater respect.”

Xie Gou placed her hands on her hips, laughing. “Master Zheng, did you hear? I am not yet wed, and already Xiao Mo seeks to command me.”

“Then I shall offer thanks on behalf of Palace Master Wu,” Zheng Juzhong replied. “He entreats that you both provide some care for Daoist Konghou.”

Xie Gou waved dismissively. “Wu Shuangjiang need not have spoken the words!”

She and Konghou, the Recorder of Harmonies, were kindred spirits, sisters of the same mountain peak.

Zheng Juzhong turned to Liu Xianyang, offering a respectful nod.

Liu Xianyang smiled brightly, returning the gesture to the master of Gu Can.

After Zheng Juzhong departed, he beckoned to the fur-hatted girl. “Gouzi, Gouzi! Over here! Our esteemed Chief Zhou seeks your counsel.”

Gathered at Rhinoceros City, they shared news. Liu Xianyang relayed the woman’s explanation, while Cui Dongshan spoke of his insights into the ancient battlefield.

The fur-hatted girl, brow furrowed, scurried to Xiao Mo’s side and stood at attention. “What is it?”

Jiang Shangzhen, looking uncharacteristically shy, wrung his hands. “Sect Master Cui intends to recommend me as Deputy Peak Lord. I wonder what Vice Seat Xie thinks?”

Xie Gou rubbed her fur hat, frowning. “Did Chief Zhou suffer a few blows from Jiang She to speak such words? Is the injury grievous? Forget about deputy peaks! Seek a physician immediately!”

Undaunted, Jiang Shangzhen lowered his voice, seeking allies. “Lady Xie, consider this: If I become Deputy Peak Lord, the position of Chief Offering shall become vacant! Who would fill that role? And the vacant Vice Seat… who might ascend there? Chief and Vice, united upon a single peak, a match made in the heavens!”

Xie Gou rested her chin upon her palm, considering the matter with a newfound seriousness.

Liu Xianyang urged, “Gouzi, what is there to ponder? Be bold!”

Xie Gou waved him away dismissively. “Friends are friends, but rules are rules. You have no say in the affairs of Fallen Peak.”

A shadow crossed Xiao Mo’s brow, and in a voice of the mind, he asked, “Sect Master Cui, the Young Master has lost so many natal treasures, even the imitation of the White Jade Capital is shattered! If that is not a wound to the very root of his Dao, what is? How can it be mended? The Daoist scripture granted by Palace Master Wu is valuable, but far-off waters quench not the present thirst.”

Cui Dongshan’s face darkened. “With Liu Xianyang and Pei Qian present, I could not speak freely. The truth is, the Master’s Five Elements natal treasures were also destroyed. Within his small world, he has lost all natal objects.”

Xiao Mo exploded with rage. “Then why does Jiang She yet live? Slay him!”

Cui Dongshan, filled with helpless indignation, said, “The Master, Zheng Juzhong, and Wu Shuangjiang have made their decision together. Even the Mistress has restrained herself from speaking. What can I say? Even if I risk death to offer remonstrance, it would be of no avail!”

Though unable to hear the silent conversation, Xie Gou sensed Xiao Mo’s distress and hastened to dissuade him. “Xiao Mo, hold back! Master Zheng has said that if we were to slay Jiang She on the spot, leaving only his bones, our Peak Lord would have truly lost all! A deal of no return!”

Xiao Mo’s face remained grim. “That non-sword cultivator Zheng Juzhong speaks nonsense! To fail to slay Jiang She and scatter his ashes is the greatest impediment to the heart of the Dao. It is a hidden danger that will haunt the Young Master’s future ascent! That is his greatest loss!”

Xie Gou’s fury ignited, and she began to rub the fur hat fiercely. Her eyes widened. “You wretched Xiao Mo! In this matter, my word prevails!”

The voice of Chen Ping’an echoed in their minds. “Enough! Cease your bickering. I shall decide this. We shall speak of it later. And Xiao Mo, speak to Gouzi with respect.”

In addition, each heard a separate thought, a private admonishment. “Great Sect Master Cui, achieved a new feat, have you? I will settle accounts later.”

“Why do you wear such a sour face? Apologize to Xie Gou at once.”

“Gouzi, have some understanding for Xiao Mo. No, forget it. Don’t show any understanding. He’s just seeking punishment. Scold him as you please.”

### Within the House

The atmosphere within was strange, thick with tension.

The seating arrangement had been personally dictated by the old Scholar.

On one side sat the old Scholar, Jiang She, and Wu Yan.

Across from them were Chen Ping’an, Pei Qian, and Ning Yao.

The old Scholar spoke first. “Ping’an, we have heard the general events and their origins from Daoist Wu Yan.”

Chen Ping’an, who had been keeping his hands clasped in his sleeves, withdrew them as his master spoke. He nodded and turned to Pei Qian. “Whatever the decision, your master understands and supports you. I will certainly respect your choice.”

Pei Qian, her expression blank, forced out a single sentence. “So, I am to accept these adopted parents?”

“Speak what is in your heart,” Chen Ping’an urged.

Pei Qian lowered her head.

Ning Yao reached out and ruffled Pei Qian’s hair, smiling. “Your master has already won. What is there to fear?”

Pei Qian was about to speak when Chen Ping’an interrupted. “I shall decide this, Pei Qian?”

Pei Qian nodded vigorously.

“Jiang She?” Chen Ping’an asked.

Jiang She exhaled in relief, laughing. “As you decree.”

Wu Yan’s eyes brightened, showing no pretense of gratitude.

The old Scholar nodded gently. Thus, Pei Qian would suffer the least distress.

The lineage of the Sage of Literature, after all, was known to fiercely protect its own. Good!

Silence settled upon the house once more.

There was nothing left to discuss.

The fur-hatted girl sauntered to the door and tapped upon it tentatively, asking, “Peak Lord, Peak Lordess, have you concluded your talk? May I, in my audacity, intrude?”

Ning Yao remained silent, but Chen Ping’an nodded, his face grave. “The business is concluded.”

Xie Gou adopted a formal tone. “Excellent! You see, our Chief Zhou has an immature idea, and before we bring it to the ancestral hall on Summit of Clear Skies, we wish to share it amongst ourselves. We wish to avoid, when it is brought to the formal agenda, you opposing, I supporting, and she suggesting more discussion. Noisy contention would only steal from the Peak Lord’s precious moments of cultivation.”

Jiang She groaned inwardly. From whom had Bai Jing learned such a manner of speech?

Chen Ping’an smiled faintly. “Then let us wait until his idea has matured.”

Jiang Shangzhen, alarmed, hastened up the steps. “Peak Lord, this idea is the product of deep contemplation, a decision made with great care!”

Xiao Mo, standing beside Xie Gou, gently stopped her from leaning closer. Liu Xianyang leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, smiling, saying that he must support Chief Zhou for once. He met Chen Ping’an’s gaze and gave him a thumbs up. Cui Dongshan sat upon the threshold, bobbing his head like a chicken pecking grain, raising two fingers together, saying that he could attest that Chief Zhou’s words were true. Jiang Shangzhen was confident, promotion assured. Wu Yan looked towards the much-relieved Pei Qian, and Jiang She dared not, or refused, to look towards them. The man merely squeezed his partner’s hand with tenderness. Ning Yao rested her chin upon her hand, eyes narrowed in a smile, as if sharing silent words with Pei Qian. The old Scholar breathed a long sigh, leaning lazily back against the chair, turning his head to smile towards the illuminated figures at the door.

### Separated

The old boatman finally deigned to row the lone boat away from the sect grounds, disappearing upon the vast, blue waves.

Qi Tingji carried with him the Blessed Land of Azure Rainbow, ready to depart for the Floating Clouds Continent to exchange it with Liu Tui in person.

First, he went to the tea arbor, where Shao Yunyan and the Crimson-Cheeked Lady, along with three disciples, were drinking.

The Sword Immortal Shao remained as unpleasant as ever, and Qi Tingji did not bother to offer an explanation. He merely said that he must make a journey to the Heavenly Song Village before going to seek out Lu Zhi.

Liu Tui had initially suggested that Qi Tingji simply bring the Bow-Hung Blessed Land, sparing them both a journey, but Qi Tingji insisted that he must first consult Lu Zhi and Shao Yunyan. As they parted, Qi Tingji suggested that the Heavenly Song Village should repair the Green Azure Mountain first. Liu Tui considered this for a moment before agreeing, but could not resist asking if Qi Tingji was certain that this would not be a case of overreach, angering the Watcher.

Qi Tingji offered no further response, and Liu Tui grit his teeth and issued a decree to all members of the Ancestral Hall, ordering the full-scale repair of the mountain!

Even if the Old Watcher saw through their intentions, even if, in the worst-case scenario, the Green Azure Mountain was reclaimed, they would at least return a complete mountain.

The problem lay in the half-filled trove of treasures within the ancestral “Multi-Treasure Pouch,” some of which had been forged into natal treasures by generations of Patriarchs, while others had been lost in battles. This caused Liu Tui great consternation. It was a tangled mess passed down through generations to the current Sect Master. How could he resolve it?

Lu Zhi led her newly accepted disciple up the mountain, a hint of curiosity in her voice. “Why did you choose such a name?”

The young woman smiled brightly. “It is a play on words! ‘Cheng’ for ‘Chen,’ and ‘three colors’ for ‘scattering wealth.'”

In those days of yore, before the Dragon-Slaying War, if one spoke of the abundance of treasures, especially the wealth of scrolls and tomes, the Dragon Palace claimed second to none.

Seeing Qi Tingji descending the mountain, Cheng Sancai tensed slightly and offered a respectful greeting. “Greetings, Old Sword Immortal Qi.”

There were countless Sect Masters in the world, but few who could carve upon a city wall.

So, she believed that such a title might show greater sincerity.

Qi Tingji nodded. “I shall speak a few words with your master. You may wander as you please. Do not feel constrained.”

Perhaps the title of “Old Sword Immortal” had been sufficient. Qi Tingji’s expression softened, and he added, “Welcome to the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect. I shall personally inscribe your name upon the genealogical charts at the next meeting of the Ancestral Hall. Your discipleship ceremony shall be held there as well.”

Cheng Sancai beamed with gratitude, thinking that the Old Sword Immortal was quite amiable, not at all as fearsome and bloodthirsty as rumors painted him.

As the young woman departed, Lu Zhi remained silent, and Qi Tingji gathered his thoughts. The words that Qi Tingji had uttered with such anguish – “Can one trifle with the heart of the Dao?” – had not been directed at Lu Zhi’s attempt to break through two stages during her closed-door cultivation, attempting direct union with the Dao.

They had been directed at Lu Zhi’s decision to give away a natal sword even more precious than “Embrace Simplicity”!

Who in all the world, save for the former Hidden Official Chen Ping’an, could inspire such an act in Lu Zhi?! I snatch a few Offerings and Guests, and you repay me with this?!

If Lu Zhi had not said that she, too, was in poor spirits at the time, Qi Tingji would have undoubtedly uttered another angry phrase: “Did you seek to form a Daoist partnership with Chen Ping’an, and offer a token of affection like some village simpleton?!”

Even if he would regret it later, he would deal with that later.

Even if Lu Zhi were to turn against him on the spot, even if she were to abandon the genealogical charts and seek refuge in another continent as a wandering Immortal, Qi Tingji had to speak his mind… Fortunately, those words had remained unspoken, and Qi Tingji now felt a touch of trepidation.

Qi Tingji had intended to let the matter pass, but upon seeing Lu Zhi, he could not help but offer a few words of complaint.

“For example, when taking someone under one’s wing, one must see if they can bear the weight of the gift. Who can refine the Flying Sword of the Big Dipper? Either a Daoist True Man whose Dao aligns with it, or a great strategist who frequents the realm of the dead…”

Qi Tingji, feeling that he was becoming too verbose, halted his words in surprise, discovering that Lu Zhi had not grown impatient, and merely listened.

A touch of doubt crept into Qi Tingji’s heart, and he jokingly asked, “Has accepting a disciple improved your spirits?”

Lu Zhi smiled. “You are the Sect Master. What is a few words of chastisement? I am merely not as intelligent as you all, not without a heart.”

Qi Tingji was speechless.

Lu Zhi explained with all due seriousness. “You were wroth at the time, and heard my words, ‘You are the Sect Master’ as if they were a barbed remark. Yet, in truth, when I first chose the Dragon Elephant Sword Sect as my refuge, I had the simple desire for a place to rest, free from endless, empty conversations that would have plagued me in another continent. But now, having stayed here for several years, I truly believe that you are fit to be the Sect Master.”

Qi Tingji sighed. “Is that so? I had assumed that it would take centuries for Lu Zhi to feel a sense of belonging. It seems that I am doing a decent job as Sect Master.”

Lu Zhi spoke in a mental voice. “I have just recalled something. Lu Chen advises that you do not rush to join the fourteenth realm. Of course, if the time is truly ripe, you should go with the flow. Those are Lu Chen’s exact words, unchanged, not a word altered.”

Qi Tingji remained composed. “Let that serve as a suggestion to consider. Heed it, but do not take it too seriously.”

As for the matter of swordplay, and how to practice it, Qi Tingji had his own plans.

It had not been Qi Tingji who had begged for a flying Demon of the Ascension realm to lend its head for the carving upon the city wall.

Unusual signs appeared in the sky one after another.

Qi Tingji suddenly raised his head, gazing into the distance, trying to see beyond the heavens.

Lu Zhi also wished to discern some clues, and lifted the blindfold, shaking her wrist. In her hand, she held “South Deep,” while “Free Edge” hung from her waist, and a “Green Fish” born of the manifestation of the Dao of the Sword, circled her.

The sword light was too bright. Qi Tingji narrowed his eyes and turned his head, no longer attempting to glean meaning from the celestial signs.

Lu Zhi struggled to restrain her laughter.

Qi Tingji’s face remained impassive. After a long silence, he forced out the words, “Truly befitting the youngest Hidden Official in the history of the Great Wall of Sword Qi.”

Lu Zhi burst out laughing.

The Old Sword Immortal with the youthful face smiled too, his brows relaxing.

### Midnight Meal

Beneath the bright moon, a cool breeze rustled through the leaves. A Mountain of myriad echoes slumbered in silence. Zheng Dafeng, resembling a petty official with small hat and great arrogance, strolled towards the old cook’s residence, hands clasped behind his back. Entering the courtyard, he saw that Zhu Lian remained reclined in his rattan chair, using a palm fan to shield his face, hands folded across his belly. Zheng Dafeng dragged over a small stool and sat beside the chair, wondering why Zhong Qian and Wen Zixi had not yet arrived.

A green-clad page burst into the courtyard, sleeves flapping, his loud voice carrying even before he had crossed the wall. “Old Cook! I have achieved another meritorious deed! I just lured a divine maiden from Wei Yeyou’s place! Her Daoist name is Meizheng, and her given name is Zhou Hu. After much persuasion, she has decided to sever ties with Wei Yeyou and Cape of Clouds Mountain, and intends to build a thatched hut and cultivate on Shadow of Flowers Peak at Jumping Fish Mountain! Ha ha! I deserve a proper midnight supper! Once I am full, I will have the strength to go to Cape of Clouds Mountain and undermine them further!”

Strolling into the yard, the green-clad page was surprised to see that Brother Dafeng had arrived before him, so diligent in his attendance.

Zheng Dafeng, looking conflicted, asked, “Old Cook, do you not grow angry when they jest about your past as a ‘Young Master’ or ‘Young Lian’ from Lotus Root Blessed Land?”

Zhu Lian smiled. “Why should I be angry about that?”

Zheng Dafeng rubbed his stubble. “That’s strange. It infuriates me. Could it be that I have not cultivated my heart sufficiently?”

“Brother Dafeng, it has naught to do with the cultivation of one’s heart. The reason is quite simple: you are truly ugly.”

Chen Lingjun placed a hand before his mouth. “Think about it. If you were to say to Bai Xuan that his realm was low, as he is only at the Dragon Gate stage, he would be furious! But you do not grow angry when I say that to you. Is that not the reason?”

Zheng Dafeng pushed the small, dog-like head aside. “I am merely not handsome, not ugly.”

Before going to Snow White Continent, Liu Xiang had left a question, directed at Zheng Dafeng, Chen Ping’an, and Zhu Lian:

“Are you not curious as to why the martial artist ‘caretaker’ Zhu Lian resides upon the mountain, while the Daoist Immortal Lieutenant ‘guards the gate’ at the foot of the mountain?”

Zheng Dafeng glanced at the old cook, his face covered by the palm fan. ‘No need to spoil the mood with such questions’, he thought.

Zhong Qian and Wen Zixi appeared at the gate, and Chen Lingjun, beaming, rushed to greet them warmly.

Zhu Lian remained in his chair, grumbling, “There are steamed cakes and crab meat buns in the steamer in the kitchen. Make your own dipping sauce. Eat it or leave it; your choice. Scram if you do not wish to eat it.”

Zhong Qian frowned. “That is not right.”

Had the Millet Grain intelligence been faulty?

According to a certain menu, tonight’s supper was supposed to be a large bowl of oil-splashed noodles with side dishes such as crisp pickled cucumbers and wild garlic with chili sauce… He had even brought two bottles of Shao wine. Had the Millet Grain lied, or had the Old Cook been shirking his duties?

Zheng Dafeng rarely admired anyone, but this Zhong the First, toothpick clenched in his teeth, was someone deserving of admiration.

This martial artist from Lotus Root Blessed Land had become the leader of Fallen Peak’s “Midnight Meal Faction,” and wielded great influence. All followed him wholeheartedly, feasting to their hearts’ content.

Zheng Dafeng and the others had no choice but to seek out the food in the kitchen themselves.

A small black-clad girl wandered alone, humming a song of her own creation as she headed towards the old cook’s.

“The battle for tonight’s supper must end in glorious victory!” she thought.

“A long sleep until I’m rested, the rooster crows once, I open my groggy eyes, but give in to the warm covers, I have another round of dozing, the sun is high in the sky, I jump out of bed and grab the golden carrying pole. Hand in hand with my walking stick and my diagonally held bag, I’m off to eat breakfast, slowly walking, carefree as I’m off again to patrol the mountain. The sun sets, the moon flies in, a merry little deity. Who am I you ask? The Dumb Lake’s Great Water Monster, Fallen Peak’s Guardian…”

She reached the door and peeked inside, surveying the situation. After hiding for a moment, she leaped into the courtyard. “Old Cook, are the forces of the opposing faction strong and well-equipped tonight?”

Zhu Lian, who had been about to cover the dough, stood up and placed the fan upon the chair, smiling. “The enemy’s forces are formidable. Wait a moment. I shall lure them to the table from the kitchen.”

Millet Grain then saw Jing Qing and the others gnawing on steamed cakes in the kitchen. They brightened upon seeing her.

Scratching her head, Millet Grain added, “Sister Nuan Shu will arrive later.”

Zhu Lian, already tying on his apron, glanced at the kitchen, indicating for the imps to stop crowding. He smiled and said to Millet Grain, “Very well. Then I must prepare some of my best dishes.”

A Daoist at the foot of the mountain, suppressing the world?

Just then, a young Daoist with a wooden hairpin in his hair ran into the courtyard, panting. He raised an arm and laughed. “Those who come late are blessed! May I join the supper tonight?”